#....I started writing this out three hours ago whoops

[lalacliffthorne]

🪽 if you go down 🪽

Azriel x Reader

part I part II

summary: when a mission goes awry in the cold mountains, things take a turn, and suddenly, there's a lot more at stake than planned.

notes: look who's back!! yours truly got knocked out by a flu sent straight from hell, which meant being buried in bed and no writing for what felt likes ages. and of course when I did write again, I did not focus on other WIPs - noooo, I started this! whoops *winces*. to be fair tho, parts of this had been sitting in my ideas-folder for quite some time and when I had a sudden epiphany on how to use them, I couldn't just ignore that. especially since that epiphany was so... steamy. *grins* I'm back on my bullshit, and it's a spicy one! strap yourselves in, babes. we've got incoming drama and smut. also, even after splitting the whole thing, this is still long.

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The whole thing had been a shit show even before Azriel was shot out of the sky.

Rhys had sent the Spymaster and me into the mountains, to track down a group of soldiers gone rogue that had somehow swerved into the icy wilderness of the Night Court, raiding the small villages and leaving a trail of chaos and bodies.

It was a simple track and eliminate situation; find the group, assess the situation, move in if possible and track and wait if not.

Of course that meant nothing about it was simple.

“Damn it,”, I hissed, feeling my body tremble as a gush of ice cold wind grasped me.

I squinted, trying to make out anything in the chaos of swirling thick snowflakes that stuck to my lashes and hair. My cheeks were stinging under my heavy hood, my fingers freezing even in my thickly lined gloves, my skin icy under my winter leathers that weren't enough even with a second layer beneath.

The snowed-in wilderness of the Night Court was an icy climate to begin with, hard to navigate even in good weather.

Nearly impossible in a snowstorm.

We'd lost track of the soldiers about two or three hours ago, the quick falling fresh snow covering every track within minutes, the wind destroying every trace of footsteps and scent. Even Azriel's shadows seemed to be confused, coming up empty in the snowed-in woods, like the soldiers had buried themselves to avoid detection.

I huffed, my breath a white cloud.

Wouldn't have surprised me. They were trained to stay undetected.

This was bullshit.

Raising my head, my squinted eyes darted over the grey sky, clouds of thick whirling snow over the dark pines almost conceiling the dark figure high in the sky.

Even though it was risky, Azriel had decided that trudging through the forest without quite knowing which way to go wouldn't do. He had also ignored my protest that he'd be visible like a fucking beacon up there, no cover anywhere.

I had seen the hard glare he'd sent me before launching into the air - he knew perfectly well that it was a dangerous move. But just like me, he was irritated.

Pairing us together probably hadn't been the best idea.

The shadowsinger and I always clashed. Where Azriel was cool and quiet, I was fiery and quick to charge. Where he scowled, I grinned in challenge, where his eyes pierced, mine twinkled. He was rational and controlled to no avail, and I was empathetic and following my heart. His quiet watchfulness annoyed the crap out of me, and my smirks and cheeky taunts made his eyes flare.

I egged him on, challenged him where I could, and he usually rose to the occasion, shooting right back with sharp, well placed jabs.

It didn't help that he was breathtakingly beautiful. That his low, deep voice sent tingling shivers down my spine. It was infuriating, really; how it could make the hairs at the back of my neck rise, how him towering over me made something dip over in my chest.

It was a constant back and forth between us, which had made pairing us together for a mission a risky move even before the storm had hit. Now, we'd lost the soliders, I was freezing, Azriel's shadows were frenzied and uncoordinated, like they were responding to their master's agitation –

All in all, it was a mess.

Shivering, I slowly started to trudge through the snow again. I needed to move, or I would turn into a fucking icycle.

Screw Azriel and his stern “Stay here.”; if I did, he could take me home as an ice statue.

The snow swallowed every noise, the howling wind making listening for treacherous footsteps even harder. I moved slowly and carefully, my brown leathers blending in with the tree trunks, but still far too visible in the white forest as I squinted against the onslaught of falling snow that covered my tracks within minutes.

Gods, in this weather, those bastards could be miles away by now and we wouldn't kno-

Something shivered down my spine.

My eyes darted up, and I felt something dip over in my stomach when a wave of dread washed over me - premonition, instinct; precise and never amiss.

The strange tingle of sudden knowledge that something was about to go terribly, awfully wrong.

My instincts were something that even Azriel couldn´t scoff away.

In over 300 years, they had never once been wrong.

I swung around, drawing my swords as my gaze darted over the snowed in forest in search for anything; a trembling branch, a moving figure –

My gaze rose, and my eyes found the dark silhouette high in the sky.

Everything seemed to slow, my breath coming out in heaving clouds as something swelled under my ribs.

Then an arrow whizzed through the sky and hit the dark shape square in the chest.

My heart stopped. Simply ceased beating as I felt my eyes widen and my lips part.

In complete silence, the winged figure wavered. Then more black shapes whizzed through the air like lightning, catching and ripping through his wings, and like slow motion, Azriel tipped to the side and began to drop through the sky, freefalling towards the earth.

My limbs unfroze. A jolt went through my body as a wave of all-consuming dread crashed over me, and breathing a panicked “No.”, I rushed forward. Plunging my swords back into their sheets, I dodged a low hanging branch, then I started running.

My feet flew over the snow-covered ground, clouds of white whirling up behind me as I dashed through the trees. My heart was pounding against my ribs as something seized my chest, something like a clawed fist, squeezing tighter and tighter as I ran. Stumbling over roots and slipping on the icy ground, I dodged branches, freezing deadly cold washing through my veines as I stormed through the woods.

No.

I stumbled out from between the trees onto a stony beach, almost tripping as I skidded to a halt.

In front of me, a huge lake stretched, dark and deep and silent.

Right in it's middle, the water was sloshing, silently throwing small waves, like something big had crashed into it.

For a moment, I felt frozen, a name filling my throat, threatening to spill out, but I couldn't, couldn't scream without drawing attention, couldn't yell out the panicked cry building in my chest –

Azriel.

Panic crushed my ribs, and without a thought, without a second of consideration or planning, I darted towards the shore.

The water soaked my boots within seconds as I splashed into the lake. Icy cold water hit my feet, spattering up my legs and almost causing my muscles to lock in place. But I fought forward, holding onto the pulsing fear in my chest as I pushed my legs to move. Then I dove into the waves.

For a moment, the water seemed to freeze the blood in my veines. My lungs closed up, cold gripping my body. Then my head broke through the surface, the air hot in comparison to the icy water as I started to swim.

Something gripped my chest like an iron fist as I fought my way through the cold water. It was so deep, so dark, I couldn't see the ground, could only focus on that spot in the middle of the lake where the water was slowly beginning to calm.

Azriel had still not come up for air.

Something rose in my chest, gripped my throat, and I pushed, my skin burning with cold as I tried to swim faster, my arms and legs cleaving through the icy waves in powerful strokes. Then I sucked in a deep breath and dove under.

The water was so dark, I could barely see a few feet. Pushing myself deeper, feeling my wet clothes pull at me, my eyes darted through the depths until I spotted a huge shape floating below me. Shadows were slowly swirling around it, almost serenly, reaching out towards me like soft, gentle hands.

Something tightened violently in my chest, and I pushed myself up.

My head broke through the surface, and I gasped for air as the ice cold wind stung my wet cheeks. Breathing in deeply, I filled my lungs. Then I dove again.

The icy water enveloped me like hands pulling at me, like ghostly fingers numbing my skin as I started to swim into the deep. My body was burning as I fought my way through the stinging cold towards the far away bottom of the lake where Azriel was being gently swayed by the water, his wings stretched out and body limp, eyes closed.

My heart pulsed painfully.

Shit.

My lungs were beginning to protest as I reached out, feeling the pressure on my body pushing me as I grasped at nothingness. Then my fingers closed around Azriel's shoulders, and something dipped in my chest. I slipped an arm around his collarbones, feeling coolness sweep around me as his shadows pushed me upwards towards the light.

My chest was constricting as I fought myself upwards, black spots beginning to dance at the edge of my vision, and I tried to fight the panic, push forward -

My face broke through the surface, and I gasped for air, my fingers digging deeper into Azriel's shoulders as I hauled him up and into my chest, his face coming out of the water. The ice cold air stung my lungs and skin, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of Azriel's tall, solid body completely motionless.

“Shit.” Gripping him tighter, I turned, frantically trying to catch sight of the beach. For a second, I couldn't find it, feeling panic slosh through me. Then I caught a glimpse of black stone strip in the distance.

“No, no, come on.” Shaking, I began to fight my way through the sloshing waves. Azriel's wings dragged through the water, making him even heavier and pulling him down. Water sloshed over his face, and I tried to tug him up, my eyes beginning to burn and a desperate sound breaking from my throat as my muscles protested.

Come on.

It felt like hours until I reached the shore. I was shivering uncontrollably as I pushed myself to my feet, my knees shaking as I dragged Azriel out of the water, his wings scraping over the stony ground. His shadows whispered as I dropped him, falling to my knees next to him.

“Az?!” My voice was hoarse and panicked as I pressed my fingers against his neck and felt my heart skip once before stilling.

He wasn't breathing.

“No, no, no, come on!” An ache spread through my chest, and with widening eyes, I slid forward, beginning to press my hands down on his chest in a quick, steady rhythm, my whole body shaking as my heart pounded in my throat.

“Come on,”, I whispered frantically, “come on –“

Water sloshed out of Azriel's mouth, his body rearing up as he coughed out lake water.

Sucking in a sharp breath, I hastily pushed against his body, turning him onto his side and patting firmly onto his back.

Azriel inhaled harshly, his breath rattling. His body was shaking under my fingers, and something tightened violently in my chest when I felt him slump against me.

With shaking hands, I turned him onto his back again, leaning forward to slap his cheek. “Azriel. Azriel, fucking look at me!”

Whispering curses under my breath, I stared at the ash arrow in his chest, feeling my heart pound.

I couldn't take it out, not here, not without anything to stop the bloodflow, not without risking him loosing too much blood. His wings needed healing as well, the rips in the thin membrane too big, too broad.

“Shit, shit, shit,”, I whispered hoarsely, throwing my head up to look around wildly. I couldn't stay here, or we'd freeze, and with our luck, the soldiers were heading this way, just to check on whether they had actually hit their target.

We needed shelter.

“Alright, come on.” Scrambling to get to my feet, I grabbed Azriel's wrist, his body dead weight as I slid his arm over my shoulder and dragged him to his feet. His wings slumped towards the ground, and I clenched my teeth, wrapping my arm tightly around his waist and firmly nudging my shoulder into his side.

“You're not giving up, you hear me?” My body was trembling from cold and adrenaline as I started to stumble towards the treeline, half carrying, half dragging Azriel with me. “You're going to hold on until I find a safe place; you're not going to leave me!” My voice quivered.

“I need you to glare at me and call me stupid for putting myself in danger, and I need you to be a stuck up idiot so I can kick your stupid beautiful ass for it!” My voice broke, and I cursed myself, raising my head and blinking against the stubborn burning sensation in my eyes as I breathed shakily. “You're not going to die on me; you're not going to die!”

The snow made getting forward difficult. Soon, my knees were shaking under Azriel's weight, and I could feel his rattling breath against my soaking wet hair, becoming flatter. His body shivered like mine, like it was fighting against the icy winds ripping at us, howling as the snowfall became heavier. At least it would cover our tracks and mask our scents.

I nearly stumbled over a root hidden in the snow, and something in my chest clenched.

If we didn't find shelter soon, Azriel would be dead by morning.

Something hot and flaming rose in my chest, and I clenched my teeth, adrenaline surging through my body.

No fucking way.

“Come – on,”, I pressed, gripping him tighter and fighting against the cold stinging my whole body, numbing my skin as I dragged the shadowsinger with me. “You're not getting away that easily, you hear me?”

For once, I wish I would get back a cutting, precise remark. But Azriel just rasped a flat breath, his body sinking heavier on mine. Panic washed over me, tightening its grip around my chest.

Shit.

The wind howled around us. Every crack of a branch when the weight of the snow got too heavy made my head whip around, my eyes darting frantically through the trees. But I couldn't see a soul, could only hear the sound of crunching snow under our feet, our heavy breathing and my heart pounding in my ears. My mind was racing while I dragged Azriel through the snow.

The arrows had come from the opposite side of the lake, probably from quite a bit inside the forest. If they wanted to check if they had hit their target, they would have reached the lake by now, but the quick falling snow had masked all our tracks.

Hopefully.

They would hardly check the lake for a body, so if they didn't find one washed onto the shore, maybe we had a chance. Maybe if we found a spot to hide, wait out the storm and I got Azriel at least half back on his feet, he'd be able to transport us back to Velaris, and we could send reinforcements to find the soldiers.

For some reason, the thought wasn't nearly as satisfying as the heat twisting and raging in my chest, urging me to hunt them down myself. And sink my knives into the bastard who had dared firing those arrows.

The image kept me going, fed my numbing, chattering body with a grim, burning fire that wasn't warming but gave me something to cling to, hold onto as I staggered through the snow.

That and the male I half carries, half dragged with me, his body becoming heavier with the second. It caused a desperate tremble in my limbs.

There was no way I was going to lose him, no way I wasn't going to push until my legs gave out, and even then, I would curl over him if I had to, protect his far too tall body with mine, give him the last bit of warmth that was burning in my chest.

It was either the both of us leaving this stupid forest, or neither of us, because there was no way I was going to leave him. Even if his beautiful, dumb, rational ass would tell me to –

My eyes got caught on a dark structure ahead, flashing between the dark trees, almost obscured by clouds of whirling snow.

My heart tumbled, and I exhaled shakily, feeling my eyes widen as I tightened my grip around Azriel's waist and started lugging him forward.

The thrum in my chest began to quicken when I caught a glimpse at what looked like a simple wooden cabin. It was probably nothing more than one big room inside, with small windows and closed shutters, the porch covered in a thick layer of snow that the wind had blown past the protruding roof – but it made my heart rise in a wild flutter and my limbs melt from their frozen state.

The cabin looked empty, no light peaking out from the shutters, the snow high and unmarked around it. I dragged Azriel around to the front and felt my heart dip.

The door had been opened by force. It looked like someone had kicked it in, and when I leaned forward, breathing heavily, I caught a glimpse at an empty, slightly trashed inside. Judging by the thick layer of snow that had covered the entrance, the raid had happened more than a few hours ago, maybe even already last night.

My heart fluttered and jumped into my throat.

That meant the soldiers had already been this way, had probably reached the lake from this side before moving to the other to disappear deeper into the mountains.

If we were lucky, that meant they wouldn't come past here again, clearly already done searching for valuables in this place.

Unless they had a reason to, they wouldn't just backtrack and risk running into the people hunting them.

I nearly stumbled, lugging Azriel up the steps to the porch. We almost got stuck in the door, and I had to slide my arms around him to pull him through sideways to not hurt his wings. Then I looked over my shoulder, breathing heavily as I quickly scanned over the inside of the cabin.

It was one big room, with a fireplace and a bed covered in furs on the left, a big table and shelves on the right. The air smelled ice cold but stale, like no one had been here for quite some time. The cabinets had been thrown open, but nothing but cups and bowls were scattered over the floors, the bottles and jars in the shelves untouched. The sight made my heart skip high.

Maybe I had a chance of mixing something for Azriel's wounds together from that.

“Alright, come on.” Dragging Azriel towards the table, I heaved him onto the top, my limbs shaking from his weight. Minding his wings, I turned him onto his back, hastily checking his pulse before turning around and darting towards the door. Kicking most of the snow out onto the porch, I threw it shut, bolting it and using one of the chairs to block the handle just to be sure.

Now, the cabin lay in almost complete darkness. Outside, it seemed to already get darker, the thick clouds and the snow storm that only seemed to get heavier darkening the woods even quicker.

My teeth were chattering as I darted towards the shelves, my trembling fingers skimming over the bottles and tinctures, dried herbs and berries in jars. I found some candles in a drawer and matches in another, and setting them up in holders around the cabin, I lit them, my breath shaking as warm, golden light filled the room. Now that I wasn't moving, I felt the cold clinging to me even more, numbing my limbs.

We needed to warm up, quick.

But first, I had to take care of that arrow.

I had never been more thankful for Madja.

My fingers flew over the pestle and mortar I had found in the shelves, grinding up berries, mixing them with herbs, honey and fresh snow. I heard the old healer's voice in my head as I worked, explaining how to best treat wounds caused by ash arrows, how to make the paste that would help the naturally quicker healing of an Illyrian.

Provided the arrow had not injured any vital organs.

The thought made something dip over in my chest, and I threw a quick look over my shoulder to where Azriel was laying still on the big wooden table, his breathing far to flat, the white of his eyes visible under his fluttering eyes. His tanned skin was pale.

Snatching some bandages I had found in the back of a cabinet, I turned around, dropping the mortar on an empty chair next to the bandages and some clean fabrics I had found in the chest next to the bed. My fingers were trembling as I undid the buckles of Azriel'ss chest armor, the heavy leathers pierced by the arrow. His clothes were soaked and clammy like mine, and his skin was icy to the touch, so much so that I flinched.

Shit.

Breathing out, I closed my hand around the arrow, my breath shaking as I pressed my free arm down onto Azriel's chest.

“I'm so sorry,”, I whispered.

Azriel gave a gargled sound when I pulled the arrow from his chest, twisting in the spot. I tried to hold him down, squeezing my eyes shut as the arrow clattered to the floor and I hastily pressed some of the cloth onto the wound that gushed blood, though it looked a lot less than it maybe should be.

Godsdamned cold.

Hastily, I dragged Azriel's leathers off his torso, dropping the soaking material to the ground as I caught the blood with the cloth, pressing it down. My body was trembling as I waited, then I peaked at the wound - the bleeding was already slowing down.

I prayed it was Azriel's healing that caused it, not the cold shutting down his bloodflow.

Spreading the thick paste over the wound, I picked up the needle and thread I had found in a drawer and held the sharp tip into the flame of a candle before pulling the thread through it. My fingers trembled, and I needed three tries until it was looped through the needle.

Azriel twitched when I started stitching the wound together, my needlework a lot less clean than Madja's, but I was shaking too hard. My eyes darted towards Azriel's face constantly, my heart dropping deeper every time I caught a glimpse at the white of his eyes peaking out from under his lids. It felt like he was wandering somewhere between concious and unconcious, twitching and groaning softly at the pain, but too far away to open his eyes or gather anything about his surroundings.

Tying off the string, I grabbed the bandages. It took all my strength to pull Azriel up, his wings dragging him down as I wrapped the white gauze around his ribs tightly, my arms shaking.

I was sweating when I finally carefully put him down again, my cold, wet clothes sticking to my skin and making my teeth chatter.

I needed to get out of these leathers or I would catch something worse than death.

But Azriel's wings were first.

The thin membranes had been shredded by the sharp tips of the arrows, blood crusting the gaping cuts. I cleaned them, whispering trembling apologies whenever Azriel shifted and gave slurred, pained sounds that sunk their own sharp claws into my chest. Carefully stitching them together in the way Madja had showed me once, I spread more paste on the wounds, thick enough to cover them from both sides.

Hopefully, it would speed up the healing process.

Pressing my hand onto Azriel's cheek, I cursed under my breath. He was icy cold, his skin clammy.

I had to get him warmed up. Now.

My eyes darted over to the fireplace, then to the windows, and a knot formed in my throat.

Even though it was getting darker by the minute, the smoke of a fire could still give away our location, even with the storm.

I turned back towards the shadowsinger, who's hair was curling with dampness and melted snow, his torso bare, his wet pants clinging to his legs.

I needed to get him out of those; he didn't have a chance of warming up when he was still wearing the damp, clammy clothes.

Which meant stripping him.

Even though I was chattering with cold, I felt heat bleed into my cheeks.

“Gods, get yourself together,”, I mumbled to myself, moving forward and beginning to unbuckle the sheaths wrapped around Azriel's thighs. I tried to avoid looking at him; his chiselled torso, the smooth curve and width of his shoulders, the ink swirling over the planes of his chest, tried to not think about the rising feeling in my chest that came to life whenever his amber eyes settled on me for too long.

Letting the daggers slip to the floor, I unlaced Azriel's boots, cursing softly at how stiff my fingers were. I could barely feel them as I tugged the black leather off before turning around, blaming the cold for my trembling limbs and for my inability to unbuckle his belt on the first try. Then, stubbornly not staring at his bare skin, I tugged his pants down his legs. They were soaked like the rest of his clothes, making it difficult to tug the thick winter leathers off his skin.

Dropping the pants, I felt the heat in my cheeks deepen and quickly averted my eyes, sliding my arm around Azriel's waist and grunting softly when I maneuvered him off the table.

“Alright, come on.” Staggering slightly, I tried to ignore the weight of his muscled body as it leaned heavily onto mine, the feeling of his harsh breath, his lips brushing over my temple and his skin smooth and cool against my fingers.

It proved impossible.

Somehow, I managed to get Azriel under the covers. Turning him onto his side so his wings weren't in the way, I tucked him under the blanket and threw the furs over him, shivering as I turned around and spread out his dripping wet, icy cold clothes over the chairs. My own were beginning to feel like they'd been frozen by the snow and wind, and when I caught a look at myself in one of the windows, I felt my heart drop at the sight of my slightly blue lips.

Crap.

Quickly throwing a quick look over to where Azriel was laying on the bed, buried under the furs, still breathing too harsh, too uneven, I turned around again, feeling something thump harshly against my ribs. Then I swallowed and quickly started peeling off my own clothes.

My leathers stuck to my skin, wet and clammy, and I hissed in frustration as I kicked off my thick pants. Suddenly, I realised how cold the air in the cabin really was, making my limbs shake even more as I rubbed my stiff fingers over my thighs before quickly spreading my clothes over the rest of the furniture. Then I hesitated, looking down at the bra and top I was wearing over my underwear, both sticking to my skin, making goosebumps rise on my body.

I needed to get them off, but if I did – I was practically completely bare.

For a second, I was still, just breathing quickly and feeling myself shiver. Then I cursed softly and quickly shed both the undershirt and the bra, throwing them over the backrest of a chair. Crossing my arms quickly over my chest to cover myself, I turned around, my eyes getting caught on Azriel's frame. He had started to shiver violently.

I felt the overwhelming urge to grab one or two of the furs and curl up on the armchair by the unlit fireplace. But I could feel the icy cold seep through me, now settled in my bones, could feel myself grow number.

Staring at Azriel's trembling form for another second, I whispered a curse under my breath, then I darted towards the bed and slid under the blankets.

Immediately, my body started shivering more. It felt like now that I wasn't moving anymore, the cold invaded every inch of me, causing my teeth to chatter loudly as I curled up on my side under the heavy furs, my damp hair sticking to my bare skin as I stared at Azriel's face in the warm flicker of the candles. He looked too pale, his breath too labored.

Swallowing, I scooted closer under the blankets until I could feel his body, just shy of touching my curled up form. Then I forced myself to relax, to stop the shivering, focusing on Azriel´s face, the crunch of his brows, like even unconcious, he was fighting, angry.

The thought made my lips twitch softly.

Curling up tighter, I buried myself in the sheets and breathed out. Suddenly, the exhaustion crashed over my like a wave, my limbs burning not only from the cold but from dragging Azriel through the water and the snow. My eyes drooped, and I had to fight to keep them open, clenching my jaw.

I couldn't fall asleep, I had to stay awake enough to listen for anything. To, for once, keep watch over Azriel, in case anything, anyone found us after all.

But the woods outside were quiet except for the howling wind.

I dozed off a few times. I didn't fall into a deep sleep, my body too cold, my heart beating too quickly, my ears too sensitive to any sound coming from beyond the windows, where the world became darker and darker. But the exhaustion soon overwhelmed me, and my body took what minutes of shut-eye it could pry from the grip of my will. The rest of the time, I stared at Azriel's face in the light of the candles, something thrumming heavily against my ribs.

Please be okay.

I was slowly slipping away into a deeper sleep when the mattress jerked. My eyes flew open, and my heart skipped into my throat when I found another pair staring right at me.

Azriel's eyes were blown as his gaze slowly tracked over the sliver of my bare shoulders and collarbones visible from where the furs had slipped from his abrupt waking. Then his throat worked, and I could see the moment he seemed to tear himself out of it, could see the confused but soft, slightly feverish expression bleed from his eyes as his iris narrowed in and darkness settled over his face.

A muscle in his jaw shifted, and Azriel tore his gaze up, eyes flaring as they pierced into mine.

He didn't need to open his mouth for me to know exactly what was going on in his head.

Explain. Now.

I breathed out and dropped my head onto the pillow, mumbling: “Calm down.” Curling tighter into the furs wrapped around me and trying to keep my teeth from chattering, I grumbled: “This was not how I imagined this going either.” Trying to ignore the heat bleeding into my cheeks, I watched him, my voice becoming softer when I mumbled: “You fell into a lake when they shot you down.”

Azriel blinked, and his eyes found my hair that was still damp and cold, sticking to my neck. His pupils constricted, and something flared in his eyes.

“You pulled me out.”

His voice sent a tingle down my spine, low and deep, so deep, hoarse with exhaustion but cutting, his eyes blazing with something I didn't recognize.

I shrugged softly, pulling the blankets tighter around me as I sent him a smile that wasn't half as mischievous as usual.

“Yes, well, I thought about how much you would hate me doing that and just couldn't resist. You know how I like to push your buttons.”

Azriel's jaw twitched, and something burning grew in his eyes as they pierced mine.

I felt my lips twitch in a weak attempt at a cheeky smirk. “That would be the moment to thank me for saving your life.”

Azriel's eyes narrowed, and I could see the muscles in his cheeks shift. “You exposed yourself, left yourself defenseless. That was reckless and stupid.”

His voice was cutting, icy, but I just stared at him, feeling something hot bloom in my chest as my heart skipped high against my ribs.

I blinked and felt my lips curve softly.

“You're welcome.” I turned to slide of the mattress, shivering as my bare feet hit the cold floors. Wrapping the furs around me, I dropped onto my knees next to the fireplace, reaching out to close my fingers around my pants. The leather was icy cold and wet.

“Damn it,”, I whispered under my breath.

I looked over my shoulder and found Azriel's eyes on my face, something raging in his iris, something I didn't recognize.

“What?” My gaze flickered over his face, something skipping softly against my ribs. Then I blinked and looked him over, feeling my lips curve into a cheeky smirk. “Don't worry. I didn't look anywhere important.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Azriel's eyes dip towards his bare chest, and if I hadn't known any better, I thought I saw a faint blush spread over his cheekbones. Then he tore his eyes away and clenched his jaw.

“You left yourself completely defenseless.”

I turned back around, staring at the fireplace as I felt the smile bleed off my face.

“Yes, well, I wasn't exactly thinking,”, I mumbled, something tightening harshly in my chest.

Even from the corner of my eye, I saw Azriel's gaze flare incredulously, his deep voice slicing through me.

“Not thinking gets you killed.”

I swallowed. My heart thrummed against my ribs as the moment I had watched Azriel fall flashed before my eyes.

“What if the soldiers had been at the lake, what if they'd gotten there by the time you came out of the water?” Azriel's jaw clenched, his voice tight, unrelenting. “You didn't think, and it could have cost you your life –“

“Why do you care; if I hadn't made it, you wouldn't have either, but we did; so what is your problem?!” I turned to stare at him, my breath hitching as an ache spread through my chest, and shadows whipped up the walls as Azriel growled.

“How can you be so reckless when it comes to your own fucking life –“

Something under my ribs shattered.

“I thought I'd lost you!!”

My desperate scream caused Azriel to fall silent like I had slapped him across the face.

I stared at him, breathing heavily, my body trembling as I barely fought the burning feeling of tears behind my eyes.

“You asshole!” My voice was shaking even though I was willing it not to, a bright aching feeling burning in my chest, flaring like that flicker in Azriel's eyes.

“I saw you fall, and then the lake and I thought –“ My voice broke as I stared at him, an all-consuming pain growing under my ribs.

“You were drowning.” My hands trembled, my throat closing up tight as I blinked against the tears threatening to spill over my cheeks. “I wasn't thinking about anything but that, and that there was no fucking way I was going to let it happen! And you are a fucking bastard for berating me for it, just because what I did doesn't fit with your strategic expectations, or because you think it was reckless, when I thought I had lost you!” My next breath shuddered as I stared at him, my limbs trembling.

Azriel's throat worked as his eyes pierced mine, but for once, he was completely silent.

“You think that it was stupid? That it was reckless and emotional?” I felt heat grow in my chest; familiar, angry heat, and I scrambled to push myself to my feet, glaring at him as I trembled.

“Well, I don't give a shit about what you think! I would have dragged you through that gods damned snowstorm until my legs gave out, even if it meant freezing in the end!” I balled my hands into fists. “There's no fucking way I would have ever left you!” Blinking against the tears gathering in my eyes, I swallowed, staring at him.

“Because that's the next thing you would have said, right?” I breathed a bitter smile, something tightening harshly in my chest. “That the rational thing would have been for me to leave you behind? That there was no way I could have carried you until I found a village, let alone all the way back to Velaris? That pulling you out of that lake and taking you with me meant leaving myself defenseless, to those bastards and that fucking cold out there, and that I should have never done that?” I fought the way my breath hitched and tears pricked my eyes as I glared at him. “I don't give a shit about all of that. Because I don't give up. I don't give people up, and I sure as hell never leave anyone behind, especially –“ I cut myself off, biting the inside of my cheek.

Especially not you.

I swallowed and curled my fingers into the fur wrapped around me as I returned Azriel's blazing stare, even as something closed around my throat, causing my voice to sound hoarse as I mumbled: “I would have rather frozen to death with you than leave you behind.”

Azriel blinked again. His jaw worked as his eyes flickered over my face, and something flashed through them. But I turned away before I could find out what it was, my chest tightening as I angrily wiped away the tear that rolled over my cheek, treacherous and letting on that maybe, I gave quite a shit after all.

“Our clothes are still too wet.” My voice was thick and a little shaky, but I refused to look at Azriel as I stared at my pants before turning my eyes towards the windows, behind which, the woods were completely dark.

“Without warmth, it's going to take too long for them to dry. And your body's too focused on keeping you from freezing to properly heal you, so you need to warm up.” I started pulling logs from the stack of firewood next to the fireplace, mumbling hoarsely: “Let's hope it's dark and windy enough that no one can trace the smoke.”

I could feel Azriel's eyes on me as I built and stoked the fire, my fingers trembling not from the cold. Something was constricting in my chest, rage towards this stubborn male swirling under my ribs, mixed with something aching and fluttering that made my heart quiver.

I stoked the fire until I could feel the warmth of the flames on my face. Shivering, I wrapped the furs tighter around me.

Just the thought of being close to Azriel caused something to tighten harshly in my chest. But I could feel cold crawl up from the floorboards, and the desire not to freeze was stronger than the one that told me stay away from the male on the bed.

Pushing myself back onto my feet, I turned around and, without looking at Azriel, slid back under the covers. Turning my back towards the shadowsinger, I curled up, my limbs trembling with cold and something else that had closed tightly around my chest.

I could feel Azriel shift behind me, slowly moving back under the blankets. I tucked myself in tighter, my teeth chattering softly.

The flames in the fireplace started to crackle slowly. I stared at their light dancing over the floorboards, tried to ignore the presence right behind me. But I couldn't ignore his scent, night chilled cedar mixed with the metallic scent of blood, and how it made something twinge in my chest. My mind kept looping back towards the fact that if I shifted back just a few inches, my body would press into hi-

“You're shaking.”

The low vibration of Azriel's voice trickled over my spine. It was deep and clipped, and I pressed my lips together.

“Yes, well, I'm cold.” I tried to scowl, but my voice sounded weak, not at all angry or sharp like I had hoped it would be.

Swallowing, I stared at the light of the fire dancing over the walls. I could feel Azriel's stare piercing the back of my head, could sense the tension in his jaw and body –

The mattress shifted, then I felt something brush against my back.

I froze.

Scarred, calloused skin gently grazed over my side, and my breath hitched, getting caught in my throat.

Azriel's fingers curled against my skin, like he was hesitating, thinking about pulling back, or not quite in control of his own body – then his hand splayed over my skin, slowly sliding down onto my stomach, and carefully, Azriel pulled me backwards into his chest.

My heart dipped. Then it stilled.

I could feel Azriel shift behind me, could feel the tension rippling through every part of his muscles. His hand slid over my stomach, skin cold against mine as he slowly wrapped his arm around my waist and pressed me into his chest.

Suddenly, something twinged between my legs and in my heart.

I could feel every ridge of his torso in my back. Every curve of muscle, every inch of smooth, icy cold skin pressing against mine. His legs came up to thread through mine, and his tall, solid body slowly curled around me until there was no place we weren't touching.

Swallowing harshly, I stared at the light of the fire dancing over the walls, my breath fluttering in my throat and my heart pounding against my ribs. I could feel every shift of muscle in Azriel's body, could feel the tension in his chest as he tightened his grip around me. Then he carefully dropped his forehead against the back of my head and gently tapped his fingers against my ribs six times.

My breath hitched, and my heart stilled.

The tapping was something between Mor and I, to communicate when were in the same room but not able to talk to each other. I hadn´t even realised Azriel knew about it, but - of course he did.

He always knew.

One tap meant I'm here, two taps danger, three taps you okay?, four taps need a distraction, five taps for they're lying, and six taps -

Something rose in my chest in a wild flutter.

I´m sorry.

I swallowed and stared at the wall.

Azriel's hand was still for a second, and I could feel the tension ripple through him. Then his fingers gently tapped against my skin again.

One, two, three. Four, five, six, seven.

Behind you.

My heart swelled in a weak, trapped giggle.

For a moment, I hesitated. Then I slowly twisted around under the blankets, and my breath hitched in my throat when my eyes found Azriel's only a few inches away.

My head settled on the pillow. The fire crackled as I swallowed softly and stared, and Azriel's iris shifted as he stared back. His eyes looked less stormy, glinting like molten caramel in the warm flickering lights as they pierced mine.

Slowly, his fingers brushed over my bare spine.

I barely suppressed a shudder, my lips parting, and Azriel's eyes dropped. His pupils expanded, and something flared in his eyes.

A muscle in his jaw shifted, then he mumbled, his voice quiet and rough: “After pulling me out of the lake, did you call me a stuck up idiot?”

My breath hitched in my throat, and my eyes darted up to meet his as they widened a little. But Azriel just stared at me, and behind that strange blazing fire in his eyes, it almost looked like they were twinkling a little.

“No,”, I whispered and blinked, and just for a second, the corner of Azriel's lips twitched. His gaze pierced mine.

“You also called me beautiful.”

I stared at him, something fluttering wildly against my ribs when I mumbled back hoarsely: “No, I called you stupid.”

Azriel's eyes flared, the gold in his iris melting together as his gaze dragged over my face.

Swallowing, I tore my eyes away before the fluttering thing in my chest could break free. Dropping my head a little, I reached out before I could stop myself and carefully brushed my fingers over the bandage wrapped around Azriel's ribs.

A deep sound broke from his throat, and my breath got caught in my throat as my eyes darted up again, just in time to see a muscle in Azriel's jaw twitch, his pupils blown as he stared at me.

“You're freezing.” Something dipped over in my chest at the rasp in his tight voice, and I swallowed and stared up at him.

“I could think of some ways to warm up.”

It was supposed to be a cheeky taunt. But it came out breathless when I felt Azriel's scarred hand brush slowly over my bare skin.

Azriel's fingers stilled. There was something in his eyes as he stared at me, that strange blazing flicker I had seen before, something raging and all-consuming that seeped through his carefully crafted walls.

A muscle in Azriel's jaw shifted as his gaze dragged over my face. Then his hand brushed up over my ribs, rising from under the blanket.

His rough skin against my neck made me shiver, a tremble running down my spine that suddenly had nothing to do with being cold when his fingers slipped into my hair. They threaded through the strands, and I felt my next breath shudder when his thumb slowly traced over the side of my throat.

Azriel's eyes moved slowly over mine, and that look in his eyes flashed, grew stronger. Then he lightly tugged me forward, and when I followed, my breathing growing shorter, he dipped his head.

His nose brushed against mine, and I reached up like reflex, my fingers trembling a little when I wrapped them around Azriel's wrist as his hot breath hit my lips.

Azriel stilled, fingers still threaded through my hair, lips nothing but a breath away from mine. I thought I could feel his lashes on my cheeks, the heat of his pulse under my fingers. Something was thrumming under my ribs, growing stronger with every second.

I sucked in a soft, trembling breath when I realised he was waiting.

The thrum in my chest grew unbearable, and I moved, dipping my head and pressing my lips slowly against Azriel's jaw.

His fingers curled into my hair, muscles shifting under my hand wrapped around his wrist, and I thought I felt something rumble in his chest.

I slid lower. My lips traced over the shape of his throat, feeling it work under the featherlight press of a kiss against the side of it. My teeth grazed over his skin, and Azriel's fingers scraped lightly over my scalp when a grunt escaped his chest that sounded a little strangled.

Dipping my head, I carefully pressed my lips onto the curve where his neck met his shoulder, and my heart rose, flaring.

I hadn't known the taste of someone's skin could do this – make you feel drunk off of it, cause a rush to fill your body, make your skin tingle and heart race.

Tracing the shape of Azriel's collarbone with my lips, I left a slow, careful kiss on his cool, inked skin before following the shape of his chest. My hand slid lower, and I felt the thrum of his heart under my palm, quick and erratic. It made my own swerve sharply, and Azriel's breath shuddered when I dragged my lips over his smooth skin.

Looking up at him through my lashes, I felt something jolt right down into my lower stomach, my own breath hitching and something hot rushing through my chest when my eyes met Azriel's, fixed onto my face, the amber flickering in the light of the fire, pupils blown. His jaw worked, and my spine tingled.

Slowly sliding down his body, I traced my lips over his chest. Leaving slow, careful kisses on the swirls of his tattoo, the silver lines of faded scars, I felt his muscles shift and flex under my featherlight touches. My fingers brushed over the bandage wrapped around his ribs, and a sound left Azriel that caused my heart to tilt over when I carefully pressed a kiss onto the spot where the arrow had pierced him.

Somewhere buried deep in my head, the thought stirred that this didn't feel like it was just about warming each other up.

Not with the way Azriel was staring down at me, something flaring in his darkened eyes, his breath out of rhythm, his body reacting to the smallest brush of my fingers with a shudder like it was the answer to a long lost prayer.

My lips traced over the hard ridges of Azriel's stomach. Following the lines, I felt his muscles shift and clench beneath his smooth skin when I pressed my lips slowly against his side, my tongue tracing lightly over his skin, and Azriel's hand fell out of my hair to grab onto the sheets. His knuckles turned white as I slid down, and something curled and tightened in my lower stomach when I traced my lips over the sharp line disappearing into his underwear.

Azriel's hips bucked upward, and a low, pressed grunt left him that caused tingling warmth to wash over me, my stomach twisting.

I gently nudged my nose against his skin, then I raised my head, and something rose in my chest in a wild flutter when my eyes met Azriel's, his jaw locked as his gaze burned into mine until something closed around my throat and I barely kept myself from swallowing.

Slowly, I shifted. Then I slung my leg over his waist.

Azriel's pupils seemed to grow darker, and without looking away, feeling that steady thrum in my throat, I slid down his body.

The sheets and furs went with me, but Azriel didn't seem to notice. His eyes were transfixed on my face. Then my hand slid under his waistband, and his expression slipped, jaw going lax and eyes fluttering when I wrapped my fingers around his cock.

Slowly pulling him out of his pants, I felt something dip and plunge in my lower stomach at how hard he already was. Swallowing, I carefully ran my thumb over his tip, coaxing a low curse from him. Then I looked up through my lashes and sent Azriel a small, cheeky smile.

“Tell me if I'm doing something you don't like.”

The shadowsinger's eyes flashed as a choked sound left him, and I dipped my head and wrapped my lips around him.

“Fuck.”

A breathy grunt broke from Azriel's chest, his head fell back as his hands fisted the sheets, and I gently ran my tongue over the underside of his cock before sucking him into my mouth.

Incoherent sounds spilled from Azriel's lips, deep grunts and rough muttered curses that made my stomach twinge as I started to stroke him slowly. His blazing eyes were dragging over my face, the muscles in his stomach twitching as my hand worked what my lips couldn't reach, my tongue running over the underside of his cock as I took him deep, beginning to suck.

“That's it.” Azriel's hands fisting the sheets trembled as he grunted breathlessly, his throat working and eyes squeezing shut for a second like he was trying to reign himself in, but the words stumbled past his lips, deep and gravelly.

“Fuck, just like that.”

My heart swerved sharply as I drank him in, his cheeks flushed, hair dishevelled and body heaving the longer I worked him. I twisted my hand a little, and he grunted, head falling back and hips bucking. I could feel him pulse, could tell he was getting closer, closer to that edge, his breath shuddering.

Azriel groaned. His fingers slid into my hair, threading through the strands and beginning to guide me, like he just couldn't help himself anymore, had to touch me, his grip tight as his flashing eyes followed my movements. My teeth grazed the underside of his head, and Azriel grunted, his voice strangled.

“If you don't stop I'll -“

I looked up at him through my lashes and sent him a crooked, cheeky smile that made him break off with a grunt. Then I swirled my tongue around his tip and sucked him into my mouth, and Azriel unravelled with a sound so deep, it vibrated through my very bones.

His head fell back, his back arched and his hips bucked, and Azriel came with a shudder. His load hit the back of my throat, and I swallowed it all, the salty taste causing my eyes to flutter.

Sucking gently for a few more seconds, I slowly let him go, gently brushing my thumb over his base, and my eyes met Azriel's, flickering amber in the firelight, his skin glowing with a thin layer of sweat as his burning eyes dragged over my face. His grip tightened in my hair, and he tugged, pulling me up his body.

My breath hitched when our noses brushed. Azriel's eyes looked like molten gold in the light, the flecks all swimming together in his hazel iris as it flickered over my face, and I felt my heart rise, trembling –

“Get on your back.”

I needed a second to realize the meaning behind the words mumbled against my skin, so deep and low and like a tremble running down my spine.

A wave of heat washed through me, my stomach twisted tight, and I blinked and pulled back my head, feeling my brows crunch incredulously.

“You're still hurt. No way; you're staying like this.”

Azriel's eyes darkened.

“Now.”

“No.” I glared back, which really, was ridiculous, because just the thought of him between my legs caused the pulsing feeling in my stomach to intensify tenfold, and I knew he could sense it, saw it in the way his nostrils flared and eyes flashed, but –

Azriel's hands closed around my sides, sliding my underwear down my legs; he groaned deep in his chest, then rough scarred fingers dug into my skin, right where my thighs and hips met, and my heart dipped and fell when Azriel dragged me up, up his torso, up over his shoulders.

“Wha-“ My breath got caught in my throat, and I hastily grabbed onto the headboard to not loose my balance, my eyes widening when I realised what he was doing.

My gaze whipped down; I tried to lift my hips, and Azriel wrapped his arms over my thighs and dragged me down, his piercing eyes meeting mine.

“No; I'm too –“

Azriel's tongue sliced through my folds, and I jolted and whimpered a string of trembling curses, my hips bucking down onto his face as my stomach twisted and my spine melted into burning, glowing matter.

Azriel groaned, the vibration travelling through me, and I dug my fingers into the headboard, feeling my heart tip over and insides clench.

“Shit – I –“ I tried to twist away in a weak attempt of trying to keep my weight off of him, but Azriel dragged me down further, not seeming to give a fuck about suffocating as he licked a broad stripe through my folds. His eyes flutterered, and he gave another grunt.

“Perfect.”

The low mumble rose up my spine, so deep and gravelly, my insides tightened around nothing. My breath shuddered, my brows crunched as my lips parted, and Azriel buried his face between my legs.

Whimpered curses spilled from my throat, senseless, blending into each other as my limbs trembled and Azriel's tongue traced the shape of me, mapping it like he was trying to commit to memory. Then he lazily circled my clit, and my lips parted, brows crunching as my hips bucked down in reflex and a whimper built in my throat.

My eyes flew down, and I could feel myself clench when my eyes met Azriel's, burning and flaring as he dipped his chin.

My breath hitched in a whine, and my hips spasmed when Azriel licked over my clit and sucked. His grip tightened, and the shadowsinger hummed, his nose nudging against my skin as his hazy, hooded eyes tracked over my face, molten like gold. My left hand flew down to bury in his dark hair as he ground my hips down onto his face, and I whimpered.

My body shook, the reason now far from freezing as my spine shuddered and hips bucked and waves of heat washed over me as I felt the world tip. Then Azriel's tongue slid into me, and my insides shuddered.

A breathless sound left me, I clenched, and Azriel groaned, tugging me down, and my head fell back as his tongue started to lazily dip in and out of me, circling, lapping until my body melted into a puddle. My fingers dug into his hair, nails scraping over his scalp as my hips rolled down without me being able to control it, but Azriel just gave a deep sound that travelled through me, his heavily hooded eyes fixed hungrily onto my face.

A knot formed in my lower stomach. Slowly, it build, twisting and churning as Azriel carried me towards something that would probably make me lose every last bit of control over my body, sucking on my clit, his eyes trained onto my face, coaxing every little reaction out of me, from my trembling fingers to my eyes rolling and head falling back, my thighs shaking next to his head –

Azriel's hand shifted, sliding down over my stomach. His tongue slid into me, and his thumb found my clit, circling tightly.

The world exploded, shattering as heat washed over me and the knot inside me bursted into a thousand stars. My hips spasmed, my back arching as my body tightened and loud, trembling noises left me that caused my fingers to curl and chest to tighten, my spine bleeding into nothingness, waves of blinding pleasure racking through me and causing my body to shudder and tremble. My hips jerked, and something bloomed in my stomach when Azriel groaned against me.

It took what felt like a lifetime until the sensations slowly dispersed and my spine stopped shuddering, and yet, Azriel was still lapping lazily at me, causing my hips twitch and a soft sound to break from my throat.

Slowly sliding my fingers out of his hair, my joints weak from clutching onto the silky strands, I weakly held onto the headboard and lifted my hips. My thighs trembled lightly, and Azriel's hands slid up to close around my hips, steading me, his head tipping back to stare up at me as I slowly started crawling down his body.

When I was hovering above his chest, I dropped my gaze. My heart rose into my throat, something dipped under my ribs, and I stilled.

Azriel's face was only an inch away. His iris was nothing but a ring of golden flecks around his blown pupils, his skin no longer pale but slightly flushed, the crease between his brows almost gone even as his jaw flexed, his gaze dragging over my face, and his lips -

My chest tightened as my breath hitched and I stared at his swollen, glistening lips. My hips bucked back as my spine shuddered, and Azriel's lids fluttered heavily, eyes blazing as his hand slipped onto my back, pushing me down, down until –

My nose grazed his, and something turned over in my chest when my own scent hit my lungs.

A deep sound rumbled through the shadowsinger's chest, his hand slid up to cup the side of my neck, and he dragged me down.

His breath ghosted over my lips, and my own hitched.

Azriel's nose softly nudged against mine, his thumb slowly tracing the curve of my throat. I could feel him, the warmth radiating from his skin, could feel his scent invading my senses and causing my heart to shudder, could feel something building in my chest as my fingers trembled.

Azriel's lips brushed over mine. His grip tightened, a strangled sound built in his chest, and he tugged me forward and crashed his lips onto mine.

My heart faltered. Then the whole world stilled.

Azriel kissed me like he'd been starving.

A breathless whimper tore from my throat, my fingers dug into the pillows, and Azriel groaned softly. His fingers slid further into my hair, then his lips parted mine and his tongue slid into my mouth.

My breath faltered as the ground seemed to sway. I clutched onto the sheets, a desperate sound building in my chest, and Azriel's hand curled into my hair as he kissed me harder, more feverish. He was kissing me like he'd been wondering what it would be like for centuries and now that he'd had a taste - nothing else would ever be enough.

The thought made something pang painfully in my chest, and I whimpered, my body curving into his as I settled on his hips, my hands sliding to the sides of his neck, tipping his head, and Azriel's breath shuddered in a deep moan as his thumb brushed over the side of my throat. His tongue swirled lazily around mine, then his teeth caught my bottom lip, and a soft whimper broke from my throat as something clenched in my stomach.

Azriel's grip tightened, dragging me down towards him, his nose brushing past mine. I could feel something travel through his hands that felt like a tremble. Then he pulled me in with a hoarse noise and kissed me again, deep and hard and feverish as his fingers curled into my hair, and something in my chest rose in a wild flutter.

part II

@azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels @secret-ly-here @icey--stars @azriels-mate2 @ailyr92

[aliorsboxostuff]

I went insane on this self indulgent run in trying to get back into writing so here, a House x Wilson and Male!Reader son fic cuz i see House as a.... complicated figure in my life 💀

Menace

Tags: Greg House/James Wilson, Son!Reader, A/B/O Dynamic, Alpha!House, Alpha!Wilson, Alpha!Reader, Younger Reader, Allison Cameron, Robert Chase, Eric Foreman, Lisa Cuddy, Fluff, Crack, No Smut, for shits and giggles, idk abt hospital rules whoops, inaccurate medical terms, medical malpractice, malpractice MD, Established Relationship, Between S1-S3

All those 'Wilson has a Wife at home!' thing was all an innuendo. They're married. and they have.... a son? Come read as the ducklings find out how much of their boss's life they missed!

It was early in the morning. 

Foreman had just entered the office while Chase was eating a bagel. Cameron was making her morning tea and the three were catching up over the weekend. They saw Dr. Wilson passing by and they waved at him, the man nodded and smiled shortly before he continued to his office. Chase says something about last week's case which Foreman laughs at, Cameron rolls her eyes before she takes a seat at the filing desk. 

“We’re only starting the day and you're already filing down House’s stuff?” Chase tilts his head with a smirk, the brunette sighs while her hands are busy with a group of blue files. 

“It’s not like he ever does it himself,” She answers as she sits. “Might as well chip around it,”

The computer boots up slowly when Foreman approaches the mountain of files. He picks one up and flips it open, his face scrunches in confusion. “This was… 2 months ago?”

Foreman levels his colleague with a stare at which Cameron only sighs. He deems it a suitable answer so he drops the file, busying himself with Chase instead. 

Half an hour into meddling about, waiting for their boss to arrive, a sharp knock breaks the team's attention from each other's conversation. 

Standing outside their meeting room is someone they're unfamiliar with. Not someone new to their department judging by their leisurely clothes, it went straight to someone fresh out of high school. However, what caught them off-guard was the jacket the man was wearing. It was House’s jacket.

They have a tall stature, though with how they’re slightly bowing his head, he levels just at Foreman's height. Something about his eyes resembles too much of a doctor they know, sending a shiver down Chase’s spine.

“Excuse me, sorry to interrupt, is this Dr. House’s office?” He asks, a small unsure smile on his lips. Foreman cocks a brow while Cameron and Chase shared a look. 

The boy blinks, holding a file folder in his hand. “I was just told to bring this to his office,”

He shakes the file slightly, his friendly smile unwavering. Cameron was the first to blink and immediately shuffled to handle the folder. When she approaches the boy, he stands straight once his anxiety ebbs out, and something oddly familiar suddenly flashes through her. The boy's scent has the burnt woody undertone House has. Her brain quickly connected it with House’s jacket he was currently supporting yet it was too strong and just different enough to not be another Alpha’s scent that stuck to the boy. Cameron subtly breathes to confirm it's the boy's scent. She stutters through her words, “I-i’ll get this through to him, he uh- he hasn't arrived yet,”

“Oh I know,“ He waves a hand. “I'm only here for a visit but I ran into Dr. Cuddy and she handed me this, she said she’s too busy to bother him herself,” 

The boy laughs, a slight crinkle on the bridge of his nose. Cameron had to choke back a gasp, suddenly digging blunt nails into the case folder. The whole room was silent aside from the melodic laugh. The laughter dies down eventually as the boy gathers himself. 

“Well that's my only reason to be here, I should get going,” he nods politely and bids them a short goodbye before leaving the room. 

Another beat of silence. 

Chase perks up. “I wasn't the only one that thought that was odd… right?”

“Why was he so…” 

“Tall? Yeah, I got that too,” Foreman continued Cameron's question. 

“Yes that but, who- did you guys hear what he said? When I said House wasn't here yet he said ‘Oh I know’,” Cameron drops the file on their meeting table. “How does he know?”

“Better question; was that House’s jacket?” Chase points an accusatory finger in the direction the boy went. 

“Hooker?” Foreman tries, immediately shut down by Cameron.

“House hasn't gone into rut yet,” She reasons, standing her ground. 

“Hey Alphas don't need a nice dicking down when they’re just on ruts y’know,” Chase crosses his arms. “Foreman's right, he could've been someone he slept with,”

“But that kid is way too young!” 

“We can't assume our boss’ type, Cameron,” Foreman smirks. “He might like someone years younger than him!”

“Seriously? Chase’s the one that kissed a child,” Chase immediately gasps, hands flying up at what his colleague said.

“It was one time! And she was dying for god’s sake!”

The two laughs, while Chase rolls his eyes before huffing. “None of this still doesn't explain who that guy was,”

“And he smells… almost like House too,” Foreman blinks at his confusion. The three doctors continuously stared at each other, sharing glances as if it would yield an answer to their questions. Cameron looks back to the door, then to the case file, before deciding to open it. She reads the case and Cuddy was right, it’s interesting enough that House would find interest in it but…

“He mentioned Cuddy, didn't he?” Cameron immediately announces. The two men pauses, before the realization hits them. They were about to exit the office when suddenly House stood between them and the door, motorcycle helmet in hand, donned in his usual leather jacket.

He stares at his team, all supporting various degrees of surprise and confusion before he rolls his eyes. “I’ve only arrived and you’re already going out to run tests?”

His team is still dead silent. House huffs before barging past them and dropping his bag atop the piles of folders. 

“Gimme here,” House reaches out for the file Cameron is still clutching. “Cuddy says this one will blow my cane off,” His voice heightens in pitch, mimicking Cuddy herself. 

Cameron reluctantly gives the file to her boss, the Beta watching for signs of anything from House. As the Alpha starts reading the file, his team slowly files into their normal seating. The room’s tension was apparent, especially annoying to House as he practically felt it with his sense of smell. He looks up from the file, fixing the group with a glowering stare. “Did you all see a ghost or did I miss the memo of being mute for the day?”

“We uh-” Cameron starts “It's just… Someone came by, he was the one that gave us the file…” 

“Huh,” He pauses before raising a brow. “I must be losing my annoying Cuddy streak, she didn't even come by to give it herself,” 

House shrugs and drops the file onto the table with a slap! “But she was right, this is an interesting case…” He turns to his board, his cane thuds dully. “Differential diagnosis, go.”

—

The next time the group spotted the mysterious boy, he was leaving Dr. Wilson's office in the middle of the day.

They had just finished going out for lunch, walking together when they saw the door to the Oncologist's office open to reveal the boy they had seen earlier. A wide smile on his face and an equally glowing smile from Wilson was what shocked the group. They know Wilson as a very patient and empathetic man, but to see him smile so carefree it almost scared the three.

Foreman was reluctant but Chase pulled at his coat first which led them into hiding behind a corner, ears pressed to hear what Dr. Wilson and the boy were conversing about.

“You should’ve seen their faces,” The boy laughs, House’s jacket draped over his arm. 

“They’ve never seen you come by before, I'm sure they were pleasantly confused,” Wilson replies, a coy smile on his lips as he pats the boy’s shoulder. 

“Maybe I should visit you two more often,” His tone was light, his head tilting at the request. They hear Wilson repress a laughter before it chokes out as a short chuckle. 

“If you’re not too busy, we won't mind seeing you here,” Wilson nods. “Just anywhere but the ER, got it?” 

At that, the boy sighs though it seems to be out of fondness if the softness of the man's next word could be an indication for the three; “I won't, I promise,” 

“Then we’ll see you at home,” 

“Awh but I'm bored! I don't wanna go home yet!” The two laugh.

They immediately plaster themselves to the wall, Chase’s eyes wide while Cameron’s eyes shoot in different directions as if connecting invisible strings. Foreman sighs, wiping a hand across his face, before concluding. “A polycule?”

“A- What?”  Chase balks. “You think Wilson and House and that guy…?”

“It makes sense, right? They share living spaces,”

“Wilson keeps saying ‘we’ I think he does mean it’s him and House.” 

Chase and Cameron cross arms simultaneously. “I can see House and Wilson being together.” the brunette concludes.

Chase blinks before he turns to the girl. “Sure but House only has eyes, and love for Wilson, what makes you think that–” 

Suddenly, all three of their pagers beep and god for once they wished their patient stayed stable. They quickly made their way to the room, passing by Wilson and the boy, the two sparing a glance at the hurried steps of the three before they turned back towards each other. 

—

“Is House and Wilson in a polyamorous relationship?” 

Cuddy blinks, closing the patient file slowly and placing it atop her desk. Her eyes glance up to meet Camerons. She manages a tired glare that only works on anyone but House, though it seems he’s been teaching his ducklings bad habits because Cameron only stood and crossed her arms, which makes the dean of medicine raise a brow. 

“What makes you think I’d know that information, Dr. Cameron?”

She shrugs. “You’re closest to them. They tell you first before us, and aren't you always on top of coworkers dating each other and all-”

“Yes, but that's in case it’ll affect the efficiency of our work. House and Wilson-”

“Are an exception?” Cameron’s eyes widen inquisitively. Cuddy promptly rolls her eyes. 

“No. House and Wilson would be the last person to inform me of their relationship,”

“And why aren't you asking them anyway? I wouldn't want to butt into whatever those two alphas are doing,” Cuddy shakes her head, placing her attention back into her files before Cameron sighs.

“Because we saw a kid earlier this morning. Not a staff, not a student. We don't even know who he is but he was wearing House’s jacket and talking with Wilson.” 

“So? Someone could be House’s hooker and Wilson’s patient-” 

“He said he knew you. You gave him a patient file for House because you were too preoccupied to give him yourself!” 

Cameron shot her arms up, exasperated, while the woman sitting in front of her deadpans. Suddenly, Cuddy’s brows furrow, before she belts out a laugh, tapping the hilt of her pen to her desk. The ímmunologist blinks, her arms hovering lamely, confused and slightly scared by what Cuddy is about to say.

Cuddy steadies herself, before easily replying. “Oh him. Yeah that's House and Wilsons’s son.”

“... What?” Cuddy will have to check the cameras later because the shocked face Cameron supported before running out of her office was priceless.

—

House and Wilson were in the diagnostician's office. The boy was leaning on the wall between them, the two doctors sat face to face, divided by House’s desk. They were enjoying a cup of coffee, House had his patient's MRI results in his hands and went over it with Wilson, seeing as his ducklings were off doing tests. 

House figured it would be another hour before they bothered him again when his expectations plummeted by the three bursting into his office. 

“You have a son?!” Chase shouts.

“He’s your son?!” Cameron pointed at the surprised boy. 

“You two are together?!” Foreman motions between House and Wilson.

House groans loudly. Wilson looks to the side. The boy takes a slow sip from his cup. 

The diagnostician drops the MRI scans, promptly putting his legs down from the desk, annoyance evident in his frown. “Yes, yes and yes– I thought I sent you three to do blood tests,” He extends a hand. “I’m assuming it’s done so now give it,” 

“The results will be done in another hour. You never bothered to tell us?” 

“You all never bothered to ask,” House replies easily. He grabs his cane and stands, making his way to stand between Wilson and the lanky boy. House’s son.

“For a group of diagnosticians you three are really bad at picking up very obvious hints,” He sighs. “Especially you, Chase. You’ve worked with me for years now! I'm very disappointed in you young man.” 

“Wha- How should I know? You and Wilson were always this weird… Thing,” His hand flairs to gesture to the two doctors. “And you never brought the kid around!” 

“That's because he was in high school,” Wilson shrugs. “A lot of after-school programs,”

He replies as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. The three doctors are still standing dumbfounded. House supports a smirk before he brings the boy to stand beside him, an arm around his shoulders. 

“Everyone, meet me and Wilson's adopted son.” The kid laughs slightly, waving at the group. “Oh and yes, me and Wilson are together, in case you all didn't get that,” 

“You two are married?!” “Oh yes, til death do us part and all, the whole gimmick,” 

Wilson sighs. “Gimmick it may be, you still cried that day,” 

“And you’re going to blackmail me, Wilson? Oh you wound me, pookie,” House pouts at the Oncologist at which he raises a brow. 

“Wait wait-” Foreman shakes his head. “You never wore a ring and- Only Wilson does!”

“Im allergic to gold,” House sneezes when the said ring Wilson’s supporting glints. “It also doesn't match my edgy, cool doctor outfit,” 

The boy beside him laughs, shaking his head. “You’re lame, Dad. Lame, not cool,” 

“My own family is against me!” Wilson chuckles at House’s reply, which also makes his son laugh louder. A beat of warm laughter before Cameron pushes another question.

“Is- is this true?” He gestures towards the boy. He smiles, patting House’s hand that's still resting comfortably on his shoulder.

“Yes. I am Dr. House’s and Dr. Wilson’s son. A couple of months after they got married, they adopted me. I’m pretty sure I was in middle school when they took me in,” He smiles, glancing between his parents. “I’ve been with them ever since.”

“It’s semester break right now, so rather than spending my time at home, i’d rather bother my dad’s here at work. I won't bother you all!” 

The boy flashes a false smile suddenly. “No promises though.”

Cameron sighs. “Oh god there's two of you…”

House met his son's eyes. Something glints between them, before the two Alphas turn to the group sharply. House levels them with a smug stare while his son grins, all sharp teeth and menace, the two oozing dangerous dominant pheromones. Cameron and Chase locks up, Foreman only sighs at the two’s display. Wilson, still sat with his warm mug in hand, only sighs and rolls his eyes. If his husband and son is going to scare the shit out of the diagnostic department, he might as well enjoy the spectacle. It’s not like his son would stay here for long, he’ll get bored eventually and spend his break elsewhere, right? 

What happens in the next couple of weeks into his son's break would prove him wrong.

reblogs save lives. Requests opened!

[covenha]

Synopsis: Sunoo realizes that his love language is acts of service. Pairings: sunoo x fem!reader Genre: fluff! so much fluff I got cavities from writing this WC: 1356 Warnings: mentions of academic stress and insomnia a/n: I had fun writing this one, really had to destress from all the studying I've been doing these past few days so this fic is a lil self-indulgent whoops. anyway, this is also a work of fiction so don't forget to touch some grass after reading! lmao jk but as always feedback and reblogs are always deeply appreciated! and requests are open so if you guys want me to write something lmk :))

Sunoo can admit, he always felt like he was pampered.

It’s not like he didn’t like it. Heck, he enjoyed the feeling of his members being attentive to him. The way that Jay cooks meat just the way he likes it. The way that Jake lets him get away with mistakes in his grammar because it’s just “part of his charm.” Or, the way that Jungwon always let him have a few bites of his sweets even though Sunoo definitely said he didn’t want to order one of his own. 

Which is why it was such a refreshing feeling to be with you. He never really knew what his love language was until he met you. So here are the three times that made him realize his love language was acts of service.

It was late at night, midterms were coming up and things were not looking up for you. With so many enzymes to memorize and so many cascades to internalize, if you had to look at one more diagram with arrows one more time, you were simply going to go clinically insane. 

“Why won’t this get in my head?! Who even named these stupid enzymes? Argininosuccinate synthetase? Sounds like something Elon Musk would name his child.” You bonk your head with your notebook, clearly on the brink of insanity. 

“Hey,” Sunoo’s soft voice cuts through your inner monologue. “You doing okay? Is it the krebs cycle again?” You sigh.

“There’s just so much to study for, I don’t think I can cram it all inside my goldfish brain.” You pout at the notes scattered across the desk in the room. 

“Hey, babe, you don’t have a goldfish brain. C’mon, you’re one of the smartest people I know.” Sunoo starts to get up from his lying position on the bed. 

“You don’t have to get up, Sun. I can manage this on my own, just need to whine about it first.” You give him a little smile while shrugging your shoulders. 

Sunoo drags the bean bag chair at the corner of the room and sets it right beside you. 

“Okay, we have a few hours before your exam. We can work with this. We just need to mix some active recall into the review!” Sunoo beams up at you as he lay in the bean bag, notebook in hand. 

And for the rest of the night, and well into the morning, Sunoo helps you study for your godawful Chemistry midterm. The look you had when you got back your results, passing your midterms exams with the brightest smile on your face, he just knew that he had to protect that smile.

One thing that Sunoo learned about you quickly was that you loved to drink matcha. Sure, to him it tastes like grass, but he liked mint chocolate things so who was he to judge? You loved going to this cafe two blocks from your apartment, it was owned by an old Taiwanese couple who immigrated a couple years ago. You were one of their longest regulars. So it was quite upsetting to find out that they were closing up shop for good.

Ever since that cafe closed, you have tried looking around for the next best matcha but, sadly, none have come close to beating their matcha latte. One month into the search and you had all but given up on your matcha latte dreams. That was until one day you woke up to the smell of green tea in your kitchen. 

“Sunoo? What’s that smell?” You nose around the hallway leading to the kitchen. 

And much to your surprise, a glass of green goodness is being served up on the kitchen island. 

“Sunoo? Is this what I think it is?” You ask in surprise at what you see. You go up to him and hug his side. He throws his arms around your waist, hugging your form. 

“Well, I know you’ve been looking for a matcha latte replacement and haven’t found one yet, so I decided to do a little digging. Asked for their recipe and tried to make it myself. I hope it tastes okay.” He mushes his cheek against your head then smiles down at you. 

“Sunoo, you really didn’t have to do this….” You look up at him. You felt all warm and fuzzy. 

“Well, I can’t have my little girlfriend go for too long without her matcha latte. She’s gonna start tweaking.” He teases. You just poke his cheek and decide to taste his drink. 

You knew that whatever it tasted like, you were going to love it anyway. But one sip of the green drink and you felt your heart soar at the familiar taste. 

“Sunoo, this tastes amazing!” You look back at him with a surprised look in your eyes. 

“Really?”

“No, really! Like it tastes just like how they make it. How did you pull this off? I’m actually so impressed right now you don’t even understand.” You keep taking sips of the drink, savoring the green tea goodness. It feels like an old friend has come back from the dead.

“Well, I actually found the son of the owners and emailed him asking for the recipe. I really didn’t expect to hear anything back from him but he surprisingly gave in.” He smiled. His heart felt like it could burst from the compliments you gave him. 

“This is too much. You didn’t really have to do all this for some silly drink that I like, noo.” You put down the drink and hug him. 

“But I wanted to. Really, if it means seeing you happy I’d go to Taiwan myself and ask for their recipe.” He kisses your cheek. You sigh at this. 

“You’re just the best.” You hug him tighter. He beams at this and you guys revel in each other’s warmth. 

It was going to be “one of those nights” you feared. Sleep had yet to take over your body despite the many hours of tossing and turning in your shared bed. Sunoo lay beside you, soft snores and even breaths coming from his side of the bed. Deciding that you were not going to be sleeping anytime soon, you get up from the bed and head to the kitchen. 

You trudge towards the kitchen and grab a glass of water. You look up at a clock to check the time, 2:37 AM. You decide to do some cleaning up in the kitchen to pass the time. As you are wiping down a surface in the fridge, Sunoo’s voice startles you.

“y/n? What are you doing up?” You jump a little as Sunoo makes his presence known. He notices this and softly apologizes. 

“Couldn’t really sleep. So I decided on kitchen duty.” You motion to your gloved hand wiping down the fridge shelves. “Sorry if I woke you up. You can go back to bed. I’ll finish up in a bit and try to fall asleep again.” 

He silently walks up to you hugging you from behind. Then he mumbles something into your hair that you don’t quite catch. 

“Noo?” You ask him to repeat himself.

“Wanna go get some ice cream?” 

So that’s how you end up buying ice cream at a convenience store at 3 AM. As you guys walk back to your apartment, Sunoo looks down at you happily snacking on your ice cold treat. Your ruddy cheeks from the cold autumn breeze nipping at them, your tired eyes from the lack of sleep, and your hair haphazardly thrown into a bun. 

“What is it?” You ask him, noticing how silent he is.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. 

“Is there something on my face?” You motion towards your face. 

Sunoo just smiled at himself, telling you that there was nothing on your face. And as the two of you neared the entrance to your apartment he mulled over some thoughts. Even though he was munching on some mint chocolate ice cream, which he could argue was one of life’s best delicacies. He thought that maybe, no surely, he liked being the reason you smile a whole lot more. 

[writingonleaves]

i never could've seen you coming (i think you're everything i've wanted) - nico hischier

pairing: nico hischier x original female character

warnings: swearing, mentions of death and cancer, a substantial amount of grief, so much fluff, medical school inaccuracies probably, angst if you squint, way too many mentions of all three hughes brothers..like an absurd amount (but it's part of the plot, i promise)

title: "the blue" by gracie abrams

word count: 19.7k (whoops!)

author's note: got WAY too carried away with this one lol so you may see more of this little au bc i really fell in love with it. this turned almost into a study on found family / siblinghood?? i hope you all enjoy it just as much as i enjoyed writing it and creating this little world. takes place in the 2023-2024 season.

*****

In hindsight, it probably would’ve been smarter to live closer to work and actually be in the city.  But when word got around — well, her mother telling her best friend — that Clementine was going to be even close to New Jersey, she had, in order, Luke, Quinn and Jack texting her within an hour of each other.

Lukey Hughes

Clemmy!! Congrats on the residency. Heard you’re gonna be across the river from jersey?? 👀

Quinny Hughes

Congrats on NYU! I’m happy you get to go back east even though I won’t get to see you as often. Don’t let Luke or Jack annoy you too much. Love and miss you! ❤️

Jacky Hughes

CLEMENTINE

you’re coming to new york????

you have to live with me please please please it’s not that far

and luke will probably be here next season and ik he’s your favorite 

When Clementine Sandoval found out she was placed at NYU Langone for her combined emergency room and pediatrics residency, she thought two things. Holy shit, she actually has made it this far. And holy shit, she’s excited to go back closer to home, after spending undergrad and med school in the west coast. She’s found a love for California, but nothing beats the east.

She called Jack for his birthday days after the Devils got knocked out of playoffs. She doesn’t get to talk to Jack and Luke — any of the Hughes brothers, really — as often as she’d like. She sees them even less, ever since she left for California and they moved away to Michigan from Toronto. She always tries to see Quinn and Jack whenever they come out to play at San Jose, but otherwise, that’s it. She hasn’t seen Luke since the Hughes family graciously invited her and her mom to Luke’s draft almost two years ago. So whenever she does get a chance to catch up with her childhood friends, it’s always a treat.

It took Jack — and Luke — exactly 34 minutes over the phone to convince her to move in with them. The largest part of the discussion was how much money she’d contribute for rent. She was adamant to split it three ways evenly. Jack shot that down immediately, and that resulted in a slight — read: intense — disagreement (“I don’t give a fuck that you’re making $8 million a year, Jack Rowden. I’m paying my part of the rent.”). He refused to back down, and they came to an amount that she was semi-happy with, though she insisted that she’d be in charge of buying groceries. Deep down, she knows he and Luke will fight her on that too. 

She finished out med school, went on a 10-day vacation to Europe with her friends and went back to her mom’s place in Massachusetts for a weekend, where she grabbed the key that Jack had shipped to her. Her mom helped her pack the car, and off she went to Hoboken, where she’d be living by herself in the extremely spacious apartment until Jack (and Luke) came back for pre-season in September. 

Residency started off without a hitch, Clementine loving the fact that she got to actually work with patients more. The commute to the hospital isn’t ideal — a 10 minute drive to the station before hopping on the train for almost 45 minutes — but after years of having to drive around everywhere for years, it doesn’t faze her much. It’s a time to decompress after a long shift and reflect or wake herself up for the long day ahead, and it gives her time to read or listen to music or podcasts on the train. Some of her fellow residents live nearby and are always gracious enough to let her crash on their couch after particularly grueling shifts. The first two months are peaceful if tiring, the apartment always being a welcomed silence when she walks in. 

Early September arrives, and she’s coming home after an overnight shift when she walks out of the elevator to the apartment. She thinks she might hear voices coming from inside her apartment, but they’re more likely in her exhausted brain, so she turns her key and pushes open the door. 

It takes her a moment while taking off her shoes to freeze. There are voices in the apartment. She carefully walks towards the voices, heart starting to race, before it immediately calms down and relief washes over her. 

“Jesus Christ! A warning would’ve been nice. I thought someone broke in.”

All three Hughes brothers turn their heads towards her, all looking a bit worse for wear probably due to the fact that it’s just past 7 am. Though it’s nothing Clementine hasn’t seen before. When your mothers are still really close after playing soccer together at UNH and both families happen to settle down in nearby towns in the suburbs of Toronto, you’ve all seen each other the morning after sleepovers. When you’re an only child and call these three your brothers, you’ve practically seen everything. They all blink at each other before someone — Jack — comes to their senses. 

“Clee!” Jack exclaims, sliding in his socks across the floor to pull her into a very tight hug. She feels gross and probably doesn’t smell much better, but she can’t bring herself to care as she hugs Jack, smile widening when she feels both Quinn and Luke putting their arms around her as she’s put in the middle of a group hug. They eventually let go, and then she hugs them all individually. 

She pouts, looking up at Luke. “This is so unfair. You’re so much taller than me now.”

Luke smirks, ruffling her hair. “Good to see you too, Clemmy.”

She beams up at him. “Happy birthday, by the way. Big 20!”

“Thank you.”

She yawns. “So what’s going on? I thought you two weren’t supposed to be back until next week.” She points at Quinn. “And what are you doing here?”

“Not happy to see us?” Quinn teases. 

“Always happy to see you guys. But I did just have an overnight shift and I need to be in bed within the next 20 minutes.”

“We know.” Jack says excitedly. “Did you not suspect anything when I was asking specific questions about your schedule for this week?”

She thinks back to the last time she FaceTimed Jack. He did seem awfully inquisitive. She shrugs. “I’m too old and tired to question your antics anymore, Jacky.”

“You’re only 26?”

“And you just turned 20. I’m old.” she says to Luke as he passes her a glass of water. “Quinny, aren’t you supposed to be in Vancouver soon?”

“Yeah, actually. I’m only here for the day to go to the US Open and celebrate Moose’s birthday. I’m on a flight out tomorrow at noon.”

She pouts, but her heart warms at the reminder that these three are still so close. “So soon.”

“Captain duties, am I right?” Jack says. 

It takes her a moment to realize what he just said before her jaw drops and she whips her head towards the eldest Hughes. “Are you serious?” Quinn just nods sheepishly. “Quinn!” She wraps him in another hug again. “That’s incredible. Oh my goodness. Congratulations!”

“Thanks, Clem.”

She places her hands on his cheeks. “I’m so proud of you. Not surprising at all though. Do Ellen and Jim know? I bet they’re pumped.”

“Yeah, they do. It won’t get announced until Monday though.”

“That’s awesome. Holy shit, Quinn.” She looks at the younger two. “So are you guys back for good?”

“I am. Jack isn’t. He has to go to Vegas for media day the day after tomorrow.”

She blinks. “I’m confused. Then why the fuck are you all here? You could’ve just gone to Vegas early or something. Or not make the trip here and come back when you have to be back.”

“To see you, duh. I wanted to see you on my birthday, and it’ll be awhile until we’re all in the same place again.” Luke shrugs. Like it’s not a big deal. Like they didn’t just fly from wherever the fuck to Jersey for barely a day before two of them have to fly back across the country because they wanted to see her and be together. 

“God, I-just,” she yawns. “That’s so disgustingly sweet. And I love you three. I really do. But-”

“You need sleep, yeah. We figured. Well, good news for you, you’re not needed until later anyways!” Jack beams.

She blinks. “What’s later?”

“We’re heading to Aunt Lara’s to celebrate Luke’s birthday. Mostly an excuse for some of the family to gather one last time for the summer.” Jack says.

“Also to celebrate Quinn getting captain,” Luke adds with a small eye roll. 

“And I’m assuming I’m coming to that?”

Jack blinks like she’s being ridiculous. “Uh, duh. And I know you have a day off tomorrow, so you can’t use that as an excuse. Geegs wants to see you. Everyone wants to see you, to be honest. Mom’s making your favorite just for you.”

She lights up. “Her pumpkin pie?”

“Yup.”

“I’ll be there,” she salutes to them as she stops at her bedroom archway. “Have fun watching tennis. I’ll see you when you get back?”

“Mmhmm. We’ll drive there together.”

“Brilliant,” she blows them all a kiss. “Goodnight. Or good morning. Whatever.” They all snicker as she goes into her bedroom, beelining for the shower. 

She emerges from her bedroom again at around 1:30 p.m., her stomach begging for food. She wipes the sleep away from her eyes as she heads towards the kitchen. She reaches for the coffee machine and pauses when she sees a sticky note on the handle of the pot. 

Left some pasta for you in the fridge. xoxo Quinn

She smiles, making herself a cup of coffee before opening the fridge and reheating the chicken alfredo pasta. She waits for the microwave to beep by checking her phone for the news and any unread messages (the only one being from Ellen, who’s thrilled that she’s coming by tonight.)

After eating, she realizes she should probably get something to bring tonight, and ventures a few blocks to a nearby florist. Fresh flowers can’t hurt, right? After she pays for the bouquet, she has a double take walking by the bakery she only treats herself to after an especially exhausting day. Luke has always been weak for chocolate chip cookies, and this bakery does them like no other. She grabs a box of a dozen.

Around an hour later, the front door opens again and Luke practically vibrates at the smell of the still-fresh cookies on the counter. All three of them dig in as she quickly changes, putting on a basic blue sundress and pulling out a sweater in case she gets cold. It feels like it’s been forever since she’s worn anything that isn’t scrubs. She spritzes some perfume on and ties on three very important friendship bracelets that have somehow not fallen apart even after almost a decade. 

As expected, when she walks out, Quinn’s the one who notices what’s on her wrist first. He grins, surprised. “I didn’t know you still had those.”

She shrugs, fiddling with the loose threads. “They were very important to me. They still are.”

Jack stops chewing and his eyes widen, finally realizing. “Holy shit, Clee. We made those for you, like..”

“Right before I left for college? Yeah.” She takes the last bit of a cookie out of Luke’s hand. He doesn’t even bat an eye. “I don’t wear them as often anymore because I don’t want the possibility of them getting ruined or losing them at the hospital or anything. You know I wore them when I opened my acceptance letter into Stanford, right? And I wore them under my shirt when I had my interview with NYU.” She thinks she sees Quinn’s eyes water. She definitely knows she sees Luke swallowing roughly as Jack stares at her with some sort of reverence in his eyes. But she also knows her boys and just shrugs, changing the subject to make them more comfortable again. “We leaving soon?”

“Yeah. Let me just take a piss,” Luke says as he walks towards the bathroom. 

“I call dibs after!” Quinn calls out. 

“What the fuck?” Jack exclaims. “I need to go really bad too.”

“Just go to the one in my room, Jack.” She says, rolling her eyes. He huffs, giving Quinn a glare before disappearing into her bedroom. She sits down in the chair that Jack had just been occupying. “God, I can’t believe I’m gonna be living with those two. Am I regressing?”

Quinn snorts, “Probably. How is residency, by the way?”

She sighs. “Good. Busy and tiring and really fucking hard, but that’s to be expected. I’m currently in the NICU, so it’s been interesting seeing all the babies and the reasons they’re in there for. They’re also just so fragile, which, obviously, but it’s been good. I really love it.”

Quinn hums thoughtfully. “That’s badass, honestly. But everything you do is badass in my eyes.”

“Well, it’s quite badass in my eyes that one of my dearest friends is the captain of the Vancouver Canucks at 23.”

She feels a bit of a thrill at the blush that so easily paints his cheeks. “Nothing compared to you saving lives.”

“Hey,” she warns. “None of that here. We don’t do that.”

He just nods, leaning in to kiss her temple gently. “I’m sad that I’m gonna be seeing you less now, but I’m so happy for you. Least I’ll worry less about Jack and Luke now that you’re here.”

“Oh please. You’ll always worry about them.”

He hums, not even giving an answer because they both know the truth. She wraps an arm around his waist, tucking herself into his side and even though he’s standing and she’s sitting, she feels the most comfort she’s felt in awhile. 

Nothing brings her peace like these three boys, who have always believed in her and loved her before she was anything. They could be shouting at each other and never let her get a word in and she would still feel right at home

Later that night, as she’s catching up with everyone and eating Ellen’s pumpkin pie, she’s reminded that this whole family has always brought her peace. Ellen has always said she’s like the daughter she always wanted and Jim has always been like a father to her, especially the last decade. Geegs treats her just like she treats all her grandchildren, fussing over her and insisting that she needs to eat more because “you must be so stressed all the time at the hospital, running around and saving lives.” Everyone important and close to them have always known that the Hughes brothers and Clementine are the kind of package deal that will always be strong, even if it spans countries. It’s the three boys and Clementine always.

As she watches everyone sing happy birthday to Luke, watching him tower over everybody, his face poorly lit with the candles, she places both her hands over her heart while he blows the candles and everyone cheers. 

This chapter of her life is already shaping up to be pretty damn good.

…..

She’s had October 12 circled in her calendar ever since Jack convinced her to move in. The day of the regular season home opener of the Devils. 

After her shift, she ducks into the staff bathroom and changes into leggings and a Devils jersey, Hughes and 86 on the back. Jack and Luke lost some sort of bet that had the latter pouting and the former in absolute glee. She had just rolled her eyes. She’d just wear her 43 jersey to the next game. 

As she’s clocking out, one of her fellow residents and probably the one she’s closest to, Emilia, just raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t know you were a hockey fan.”

Clementine shrugs, swiping her ID card through the reader. She never distinctly mentions her relations to America’s Hockey Family or whatever the hell the media calls them unless directly asked, but she’s sure she’s dropped some hints at happy hour, especially when asked why she’s living in Jersey. “Practically grew up with three of them. Osmosis, perhaps.”

Emilia must connect the dots because she offers a small smile. “My husband’s a big Rangers fan, so don’t tell him I said this, but Jack’s fun to watch. He’s shifty.” She laughs and bids her friend farewell, walking towards the elevator. 

Jack and Luke got her a seat in one of the boxes that’s reserved for family and significant others, the home opener bringing in a larger crowd than usual. She doesn’t know anyone, but that’s okay, because right when she walks into the box, a beautiful blonde strolls over and introduces herself with a big smile. You must be Clementine. I’m Ryleigh, she says, Dawson’s girlfriend. Jack told her to be on the lookout for her. 

She makes quick friends with Ryleigh as they grab a drink and situate themselves. The younger girl introduces Clementine to Kristen, her adorable boy Henrik and Barbora and her sweet girl Adelka. She kneels down to play with both kids, mindlessly answering questions about her life from the women. It’s refreshing getting to speak to people about things that aren’t solely residency or medical school related. 

God, she needs to get out more. 

The opening night celebrations are fun, and she cheers extra loudly when Jack and Luke’s names get called. Everyone’s on a high after a 4-3 win, and Clementine dutifully follows Ryleigh and everyone else out of the box and some tunnels that somehow lead towards the locker room. Her stomach is filled, thanks to the food and the drinks, and she’s happily buzzing. She’s excited to be able to hopefully watch more games now that she’s living here. 

Around 30 minutes later, both Jack and Dawson come out at the same time. She briefly watches as the couple embraces before Ryleigh turns to introduce Clementine, who smiles as Dawson wraps her in a friendly hug. She bids them both goodbye as they walk out.

“Clee! Did you see my goals?” Jack says after she hugs him, ruffling her hair. 

She rolls her eyes with a smile, adjusting his collar. “Of course I did. Saw the two penalties too. Good game, Jackson.” 

He beams like a child who just got a gold sticker. “Thank you.”

“Where’s Luke?”

“Taking his sweet ass time.”

She instinctively shoves him. “Be nice.”

Jack opens his mouth, no doubt about to say something snarky, before something beyond her shoulder catches his attention. “Neeks! Come here for a second.” She turns around to see maybe one of the prettiest guys she’s ever seen in her life. Obviously, she knows who Nico Hischier is, but goddamn, is he beautiful up close. 

She sticks out her hand with a small smile. “Captain. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Just Nico’s fine,” he smiles, shaking her hand before running his hand through his hair. Gosh, he’s cute. “You must be Clementine. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

She automatically grimaces. “Oh no.” She turns to Jack. “Are you just as mean to me behind my back as you are to my face?”

Jack’s jaw drops. “Absolutely not! I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m so nice to you.”

Nico laughs. “It’s all good things, I promise. And anyone who has dealt with Jack since he was a kid is a good person in my book.”

“Hey!” Jack says indignantly. “Clee loves me.”

Both Clementine and Nico decide promptly to ignore him. “You’re living with Jack and Luke now, right?” Nico asks.

“Yeah. It’s cheaper than living in the city, and it’s nice to have them around again.” She says. Jack beams. 

“You were out west before?”

Shit. Does Jack talk about her that much? “I was. I did my undergrad at UCLA, and then went to Stanford for med school. So the last eight years, I’ve been a west coaster.”

“But back east now?”

“Back east now.”

“For..residency? Right? Is that the next step?”

“Yup. I just started my residency at NYU in July,” she grins cheekily at Jack. “And now I get to bother this one all the time.”

Luke comes out and brightens up, adjusting his beanie. “Hi Clemmy!”

“Hey Lukey,” she goes on her tiptoes to give him a hug. “Good game.”

“Thanks,” he mutters into her shoulder before pulling away. “I’m hungry. Do we still have the chicken you made yesterday?”

She snorts. “Yeah. Unless someone ate it during the day.”

“Yay,” Luke says sleepily. “How was work?”

“Not as tiring as playing a game, I’m sure.”

Luke pulls a face. “Liar. You’re a doctor. And you deal with kids all day.”

“I’m barely a doctor. And I love kids.”

“Still.”

Jack snorts. “I think we should get the big baby to bed.” He expertly avoids Luke’s slap. “See you tomorrow, Hisch?”

Nico nods. “Get some rest, you two. Good game. And it was nice to meet you, Clementine. I hope I see you around more often.”

Clementine grins. “You too, Nico. See you around.” She puts her arms around both Jack and Luke’s shoulder. Or tries to. “Drive me home, friends.”

In the car, as she’s in the backseat and looking outside the window, after Jack discreetly nudges him, Luke turns around to look at her. “So, Cap, huh? He’s a pretty good looking guy.”

She immediately knows what they’re trying to do. “Absolutely not, Luke. You are way too young to be trying to set me up.”

“What?” Luke whines. “I’m just saying. I saw you two eyeing each other up.”

“You’re seeing things.”

“Wait,” Jack says, making a left turn. “Moose, you might be onto something here.”

“I know I am.” Luke says, in a matter-of-fact voice that it seems like only youngest children can get away with. “Clemmy, you have to admit that Nico’s cute.”

‘Okay, sure. He’s objectively attractive. I could say the same thing about you. Or Jack. Or Quinn.”

“Ew,” Jack says, like the middle child he is. “Also, you’re totally his type. Pretty. Smart as hell. Lowkey. Doesn’t care that he plays hockey.”

“I’m also a resident right now, so I got no time to date, Jacky.”

“You’ve never had time to date,” Jack points out. “When was the last time you went on a date anyway?”

“A few months ago!” She says hotly. She will not let them know that her romantic life has been dry for years. 

“With who?” Luke shoots back.

“Another resident, actually. Thank you very much.”

Jack snorts. “And how did that go?” She pouts. “Exactly,” Jack says. “Maybe the key is to expand your horizons. Get away from the snobby doctors you always complain about.”

“Let it go, Jackson.” She warns. “Before I start harping on you two about your love lives. If you bring girls home, keep it confined to your rooms. And don’t even think about giving them my shit.”

They both cackle as the light turns green, exchanging knowing looks that Clementine misses. 

…..

She’s coming back from a brutal overnight shift when a familiar voice asks her to hold the elevator door open. She blinks as Nico blinks back, dressed in a sweatshirt and sweatpants. He looks awfully cozy. She can imagine that she looks like she got chewed and spit back out. 

She musters a smile. “Hey there.”

“Good morning,” he smiles back. “You coming back from work?”

“Yup.” She presses the button for 17 as the doors shut. “What are you and Jack and Luke up to today?”

“Not sure. I think some of us are going out to breakfast. Would you like to come?”

She chuckles, leaning her back against the wall. “I appreciate the invite, truly. I just feel like if I have to be awake for 10 more minutes, I might collapse.”

He bites his lip and stares down at his feet. She thinks it’s endearing. “Right. Sorry. Of course you’re tired.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she says. “Residency life is weird. Almost as weird as a hockey player’s.”

The doors open and Nico nods for her to go through first. “I don’t know about that. I live a pretty simple life.”

“Interesting way to define simple, Captain.” She teases. And he shrugs modestly. Clementine starts to wonder if there’s any arrogant bone in his body. He waits as she unlocks the door, closing it behind her. She walks in to see Jack pouring out a glass of juice and Luke sitting on the couch. “Found someone who may be of interest on my way up.”

She listens to Nico greet the two as she puts her bag down and lets her hair out of her ratty ponytail. “Wanna come to breakfast with us?” Luke asks with a hopeful smile. 

“Sorry, Lukey,” she says apologetically. “I’m literally a walking zombie right now. Another time?”

He pouts. “Fine. I miss you though. I feel like you’ve been MIA.”

“I wasn’t the one who was just on a long ass roadie,” she points out, giving Jack a side hug.

Nico looks around. “You guys do something different with the place? It looks different from what I remember.”

“We gave Clee free reign to spice it up a bit when she came here in the summer.”

Nico hums. “It looks nice. More…”

“Lived in? Homey? Clean?” She jokes, downing a glass of water.

The captain laughs. She watches his dimples deepen and blinks to herself several times. “All of the above,” he says. “I especially like the pillows.”

She beams. “Thank you. My mom embroidered the pillowcases.”

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come with us, Clee?” Jack begs. “We promise it’ll be quick.”

“Next time,” she promises. “I’m so, so tired.”

Nico clears his throat. “The team’s having a Friendsgiving thing in a couple of weeks since we’ll be on the road during actual Thanksgiving. I don’t know if these two have mentioned it yet, but you’re totally invited. It’s just gonna be the team and their families or whoever else they want to bring.”

“Is it at your place?” Clementine asks. 

“No.”

“So is it really your invite to extend? I don’t want to intrude.”

Jack rolls his eyes. “I was gonna ask you tonight. Hisch just beat me to it. It’s at Toff’s place. Of course you’re invited, so please come.”

She yawns. “Unless I have an overnight again, I’ll be sure to come. And even if I do, I’ll try to reschedule.”

“Atta girl,” Jack says. “You really need to get out more.” Clementine just flips him off, making Luke and Nico laugh.

“Enjoy your day, boys.” She calls out as she walks to her room. She hears them all yell out some sort of response before closing her door.

(As soon as she closes the door, Jack nudges Nico’s shoulder with his. “Make it less obvious, dude.”

Nico’s eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. “Make what less obvious?”

“That you’re interested in Clemmy.” Luke says dryly from the couch. “That’s basically our sister.”

“What?” Nico hisses, aware that she’s right down the hall. “I don’t-I mean, yeah she’s pretty. But I barely know her.”

“But you want to. You’ve wanted to ever since we showed you pictures of her,” Nico doesn’t even have the chance to defend himself as Jack smirks like the menace he is. “Don’t worry, Cap. One day you’ll catch her when she’s not sleep deprived and acting as an actual human being and you’ll be able to sweep her off her feet.”

Nico swallows. “She doesn’t seem like the kind of person who’d fall for that.”

“She wouldn’t. Which is why you’re perfect. So many of my friends throughout the years have tried to hit on her. Hasn’t worked once.”

“Aren’t you, like, four years younger than her?” Nico says. “That’s probably why.”

Luke scoffs. “Good point.” He’s been less pushy about it compared to Jack, partially because he’s not as comfortable with Nico yet and partially because he’s not Jack. “She’s a good one though, Cap. You’d be lucky.” He says. 

Nico just nods.)

Early the next week when Clementine goes in, she finds out that one of her babies in the NICU she had been taking care of had died. It’s not necessarily the first time she’s dealt with death in her young career, but it’s still not easy. She goes through the rest of the day robotically, simultaneously trying to pick apart what she could’ve done differently while trying to forget about it completely. 

The only upside — if there is one — was that she wasn’t there when the baby’s parents were told. Fuck, she’s not looking forward to when she has to do that one day. 

During her lunch break, she calls Jack.

“Hello?”

“Jacky?”

“Clee? Is everything okay?”

She swallows. “I’m sorry. I can’t keep track. Do you have a game tonight?”

“No. Day off today. Game tomorrow. What’s wrong? Aren’t you at work?”

“Yeah. I am. Uh, what were you planning on doing tonight?”

“Nico’s coming over and we were just gonna chill. Luke’s going on a date, I think. Or doing something. Shit, I swear I told you.”

She blinks. “You probably did. I just, sorry. I haven’t been-”

“Stop apologizing,” Jack chastises. “How about we get take out from your favorite Greek place and have a movie night? I can tell Nico to come by another time.”

“No, no! Of course Nico can come. It’s your place.”

“It’s yours now too.”

She swallows. “He can come by. Greek food sounds really good though.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I’ll order some. Do you want me to go into the city to get you after work?”

“Fuck no. Are you crazy? That would be the worst drive.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind. Clee, I don’t wanna-you don’t sound like you’re okay.”

She tries to steady her voice. Worrying Jack is the last thing she wants to do. “I’m okay, Jacky. I promise. As long as you have the Greek food ready when I’m home.”

“You got it,” Jack softens. “I love you, Clementine.”

“Love you too. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye.”

When she finally makes her way back to Hoboken, she feels a bit better. She hears murmured voices right before she unlocks the front door. 

“Hey,” she greets Jack and Nico. 

Jack barrels over, hugging her tightly with a smile. She involuntarily lets out a relieved sigh. “Lucky timing. I just got the food.”

“Lovely. Let me just take a quick shower and change and I’ll be right out.” She gives Nico a quick but friendly smile. “Hi Nico.”

“Hey Clementine.”

“Be right back.” She takes a quick shower and throws on leggings and a UCLA sweatshirt, choosing to let her hair air dry. When she comes back out, food from her favorite Greek place in Jersey that she discovered over the summer is laid out, along with a glass of iced tea. She could cry. 

“Long day?” Jack asks. 

She snorts, digging into her grape leaves. “You could say that. What’s been going on with you two?”

Jack knows her well enough by now that this is permission for him to ramble about anything and everything, from the more-than-usual brutal game last night against the Stars to how shitty his fantasy team is doing this week. Clementine just munches on her food while the two hockey players talk amongst themselves, her chiming in every once in awhile. She learns more about the girl Luke is currently on a date with (which isn’t saying much, because Jack barely knows anything and Nico knows even less) and complains that none of the brothers tell her these things. She only just found out that Quinn’s in a serious relationship. When Jack tries to protest with that fact she’s literally been on the other side of the country for the last eight years, she doesn’t wanna hear it. 

She finishes her iced tea. “How about you, Nico? You got any siblings?”

“Uh, yeah. An older brother and an older sister.”

“You close with them?

“Extremely.”

“Do they tell you who they’re dating and do you tell them who you’re dating?”

He hesitates. “Usually, yes.”

She gives Jack a pointed look. “See? Be like Nico.”

Jack snorts. “Please. If I were more like Neeks, you would have no one to pick on. Nico’s too perfect.”

She raises an eyebrow, shifting her gaze to Nico and she thinks she sees him blush. Nico clears his throat. “I don’t know about that.”

“Also, never listen to Clee. I’m her least favorite. She always makes fun of me.”

“Not true,” she shoots back. “You’re all my favorites.”

“What are siblings for if not for humbling you?” Nico asks. “I’m sure if you didn’t have Clementine here around growing up, your head would be way bigger than it already is.” 

“Captain’s got a point,” she sings, gathering their trash. She waves both guys away when they reach out to help. “Season’s been pretty good so far, right?”

“Thought you would be too scatterbrained to be keeping track.” Jack retorts.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t check the scores when I can.” She says, poking his side. Jack yelps. 

“You know what? Maybe you deserve to be her least favorite,” Nico jokes. “You’re so mean to her.”

“Hey!” Jack protests. 

“Thank you, Nico.” Clementine beams. “Finally, someone with sense around here. You gotta come around more.”

“Season’s going well, thank you for asking.” Jack sasses. “Oh, that reminds me. Trevor asked me if you were gonna come to the game when the Ducks are in town. Demanded, actually. Said that it’s been too long since he’s seen you and that he misses you. Not like you used to get to see him when you were in California or anything.”

She rolls her eyes. “When is he in town?”

“Sometime in December, I think.”

“Then yeah. I’ll be there. Not like I have a life outside of work anyways, as you always remind me.”

“You know Zegras?” Nico asks, before shaking his head. “Actually, yeah. Of course you do, if you grew up with Jack.”

“Not as well as you might think, though, to be fair.” She says, wanting to assure Nico that he isn’t completely wrong. “By the time Jack got into the development program, I was already out at UCLA. I was out there even before Quinn got into the program. Right at the same time, I guess. But you know, during the summers, wherever Jack is, Trevor usually isn’t far behind. He’s a good kid.”

“Clee kinda really is everyone’s older sister,” Jack says, passing a beer to Nico and a glass of wine to Clementine. “You should see how much Luke’s Michigan boys love her. And they’ve literally only met her once. Or never.”

Clementine waves Jack’s comment away. “It’s only because Luke calls me the most out of you three. And he’s my baby! I literally remember holding him when he was born.”

And the rest of the night is like this, as they exchange stories and memories, some she’s a part of, some she’s not and just likes listening to. Little mention of her work, which she’s so thankful for and knows in the back of her head is a purposeful play on Jack’s part. 

Even though she already wasn’t around when Jack left for New Jersey, she worried about him, especially after his tough rookie year. She still remembers the occasional calls she’d get of him breathing heavily and stumbling over his words and how she could do nothing about it across the country except offer a listening ear and some big sister comfort verbally. 

But now, watching Nico’s addicting smile and listening to his soft, comforting voice, she’s starting to see that Nico stepped up in that role so seamlessly and so well. It’s no wonder Jack always speaks so highly of his captain. Nico was there, and still is there, when she can’t be, whether it’s because she’s physically so far or just doesn’t understand because she isn’t a first overall draft pick. Sure, one could argue that it’s the duty of a captain. But she can tell it’s mostly because Nico is a caring guy.

That puts Nico pretty fucking high up in her good graces already. 

(Clementine retires to bed soon after, not before making sure by text from Luke that he’s safe and good. Once her bedroom door clicks, Jack attacks. 

“So…thoughts?”

“On Clementine?” Jack nods and Nico shrugs casually. “She’s great.”

“Come on, Hisch. You gotta give me more than that.”

“What do you want me to say?” Jack makes some sort of vague gesture and Nico sighs. “She’s quick, smart, funny. Deals with all your shit and you can tell she still loves you a lot. I didn’t-I mean, I knew you guys were close. I didn’t know you were that close though.”

Jack shrugs. “Yeah. Honestly I consider myself as close to her as I am to Luke or Quinn. She’s just, you know, been around for so long. It was really hard when she left for college, but she’s good at keeping in touch, which you know, thank god. Because I’m not. She came to all our drafts and she always makes the time to call or text, even though I know she’s busier than all of us combined with school and residency and all that.” Jack leans back into the couch. “It’s interesting to think about. With Clee, no one else except people who are actually close to me know about her, but she’s just as big a part of my life as my actual brothers. I mean, her mom’s the one who bought me the suit for my draft and Clee saved up to gift me the watch I wore with it. I don’t know. It’s interesting that you can think you know so much about someone but you’ll probably never get the full picture unless you’re there.” 

Nico hums, taking in Jack’s impromptu but astute ramble. “She ever play?”

“Hockey?” Nico nods. Jack snorts. “Nah. Soccer was her thing. Was pretty damn good too, if I remember correctly.” The younger boy shifts suddenly to a standing position. “If you want to know more, ask her yourself, Hischier. I’m tired. Get out of my apartment.”

Nico rolls his eyes, but stands up anyways. “See you in the morning.”)

The Devils Friendsgiving rolls around, and with a large bowl of homemade Spinach Artichoke Dip and a couple bags of pita chips, she climbs into the backseat as Jack starts the engine and Luke fiddles with his phone to pull up the directions. She doesn’t have to go into the hospital until the afternoon tomorrow, so she’s looking forward to treating herself to a couple glasses of wine and getting to meet more people. Luke puts some country song on that Jack starts humming as he starts driving. Clementine folds her legs on the seat as her chin rests on her knees, looking out at the window as the trees blur. She kicks the back of Luke’s seat when one too many country songs play in a row, knowing that they know that she prefers other genres of music. Luke just grunts, before putting on some Noah Kahan and she hums in satisfaction. 

The Toffoli’s house is spacious, and she shuffles carefully up the steps to the house behind Jack and Luke, careful not to slip on black ice. She slips off her jacket, passing the food off to Luke, before taking it back and walking into the warm home behind the boys. She just smiles and stands to the side as everyone exclaims at their arrival. She grins as Cat embraces her, thanking her for the invite. Cat waves her off and looks absolutely delighted when Clementine sets down the dip. Tyler pours her out a glass of wine and hugs her in greeting. 

The journey to being a doctor has shaped Clementine to be good at remembering names quickly, which helps her tremendously as Jack bounces around to introduce her to everyone. Everyone is so welcoming and the sprinkle of kids around makes her smile as well. It’s lovely to see that this team loves hanging out with each other off the ice when they’re not obligated to. She finds herself chatting with…everyone and is almost surprised but absolutely delighted at how kind everyone is. Some of the wives and significant others don’t hesitate to rope her into future plans and their group as a whole and she feels touched. She’s not sure how much time and energy she’ll have to go to some of their gatherings, but it’ll be nice to have some more familiar faces in the city. 

It’s when everyone’s starting to grab food does she find herself standing next to Nico, who had waved and nodded at her earlier when she walked in. “Hey Captain.”

Nico’s smile is blinding. “Like I’ve said, Nico works just fine.”

She shrugs with a chuckle. “How have you been?”

He sees her eyeing the potatoes and scoops some on her plate before he grabs some for himself. and she smiles at him in thanks. “Nothing new,” he says. “Just you know, playing hockey.”

She snorts. “Yeah, I bet. You had a sick goal the other night against the…Caps, was it?”

“Thank you,” he says as they both head towards two empty seats next to each other at the kitchen island. “You watch the games?”

“When I can. Not as much this season as I used to. It honestly used to be really effective background noise when I studied at school.”

His eyes track to her bracelets. “I’ve been wanting to ask you about those.”

“My bracelets?”

“Yeah. You wear them all the time. Is there any significance to them? If you’re comfortable telling me, of course.” He rushes the last sentence, eyes wide. 

She waves him off with an easy smile, pointing at each one of them as she goes through. “Quinn, Jack and Luke each made me one before I left for college. Gave them to me right at the airport before I went through security. Had me sobbing on practically the whole damn plane ride. I don’t wear them to the hospital, really, but otherwise, it’s kinda just habit to put them on at this point.”

“You love them a lot,” Nico observes.

Clementine just smiles, watching Luke play with one of the kids. “I do. They’re good guys to grow up with. But enough of that. Don’t think I don’t remember the explanation you promised me last time, Nico.”

A playful smile on his lips, Nico finishes chewing his food. “Explanation of what?”

“How the hell you chose soccer over hockey, when soccer is the best sport, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Nico echoes, and her smile widens. “I mean, yeah. There’s not much to it. I kinda was good at most sports. I still love watching football, or soccer. My dad used to play professionally, so I still enjoy playing pick up in the summer once in awhile. My brother played hockey, and I wanted to do everything he did. And then…”

“You were really fucking good.” She finishes for him. 

“I guess, yeah. You work with kids, right? Being their doctor?” She nods and he smirks slightly. “Even I know you have to be super smart for that. The journey to being a doctor can’t be easy.”

She chuckles a bit, feeling a bit flattered. “It has its moments. Definitely not the most simple career, by any means.”

“Anything specific with…what is it called? Pediatrics? I don’t really know how specializations work.”

“I’m actually doing an EM/Peds residency right now, which combines training in both the emergency room and pediatric medicine. There’s something about kids and the environment of an ER that I really enjoy, so putting those two together is..kinda the dream.”

“You’re incredible,” Nico says softly. And if she wasn’t blushing before, she definitely is now. Or is it the wine? “Seriously. That’s some amazing stuff. Is that common?”

“Combining residencies?” He nods. “No. Actually, NYU is one of the only teaching hospitals in the country that’s approved for this specific program.”

“So not only are you smart. You’re just the best of the best.”

She chuckles a bit and puts food in her mouth so she doesn't have to respond, because what the fuck? She’s thankful that Jonas and Nate join and divert their conversation so she can gather herself. She’s heard those words from people many times. Nico saying them shouldn’t have her stomach fluttering. 

(Later that evening, Clementine, predictably, finds herself among the moms with young kids, sitting on the floor with her back against the couch, giving them attention and watching them so that their parents can relax a bit more. 

She’s mindlessly talking and playing with Owen, Curtis and Reanne’s 3-year-old son, who’s at the age where he just loves to babble. 

Reanne bounces her son on her knee. “This is Clementine. Can you say Clementine?”

Owen claps his hands. “C-cuh-”

Clementine can tell Owen is getting a little frustrated that he can’t pronounce her name. “Owen, you know him?” She points towards Jack, who’s sitting on the couch a few feet away talking to Nico, Curtis and Jesper. Jack catches them and waves with a big smile as their conversation trickles off. 

“Unca Jack!”

“That’s right,” Clementine coos. “When Uncle Jack was as small as you, he couldn’t say my full name either. So he just called me Clee. Can you say Clee?”

“Clee!” Clementine nods excitedly and laughs with Owen as he says it again. “Unca Jack call you Clee?”

“He sure does. He still calls me Clee. And he’s a big boy now.”

Reanne grins, “Is that true?”

Clementine chuckles. “Yeah. Him, Luke and Quinn all called me Clee at one point. The other two don’t anymore, but I guess it stuck for Jack.”

Owen grabs one of his stuffed dinosaurs. “I like Unca Jack. He always buys me chocolate.”

All of them laugh as Reanne and Curtis shoot Jack a dirty look. Clementine snorts. “Busted.” Jack at least has the audacity to look a little sheepish as Owen doesn’t mind any of them, his attention back to making his dinosaurs fight each other. Owen hops off his mother’s knee and toddles over to sit in between Clementine’s legs, wordlessly passing her a dinosaur. 

Nico’s fond smile stays glued to his face as his eyes track Clementine and Owen. Jack takes note.)

…..

It’s a brisk Tuesday morning in early December, and Clementine is still trying to find her way where she needs to go. She volunteered to spend a few weeks at Newark Beth Israel Medical Center from recommendation by her mentor, since Newark is short a few hands. She’ll probably get used to the hallways and which floors are what the day before she leaves, but she’s not complaining. She’s still in an ER. She’s still working with kids. And she won’t complain about the shorter commute, even if it’s only for a short while. 

There’s a bit of a commotion outside as she’s making her rounds. Her curiosity causes her to scribble some last quick notes before stepping out of her patient’s room and clicking the door shut quietly so the 7-year-old girl doesn’t wake up. 

“Hey Caro,” she stops another resident who’s walking by. “What’s all the commotion?”

Caroline grins. “You didn’t hear? Some of the guys from the New Jersey Devils are stopping by to see the kids. It’s always a whole day thing that’s a fun day. That’s why Doc told us all to clear our schedules as much as we could today.”

Clementine snorts to herself. No, she didn’t hear. “Ah. I must’ve not been listening or something.”

Caroline offers her arm. “You coming?”

“Yeah,” she latches on to the shorter girl’s arm. “You a Devils fan?”

“I grew up in Texas, so to be honest, no.” They both chuckle. “But the guys are great. And it’s always fun when they come around. The kids have a good time too.”

“I bet,” she says softly. 

“Are you a Devils fan?”

She’s about to open her mouth to try and stumble through an answer, but they’re suddenly in a conference room and Luke is bounding over to attack her in a hug. “Clemmy!”

“Hey Lukey.” She pulls away and ignores Caroline’s confused but amused stare. “You and Jack didn’t tell me you were gonna be here.”

“We didn’t?” Jack grins, pulling her into a tight hug. “Well, surprise!”

Clementine just rolls her eyes as she waves at Jesper, Tyler, Dougie and Nico. Nico shoots her a quick wink and she gives him a shy smile before looking away. 

“Sorry,” Jack addresses some of the staff who have been openly eyeing them. “Clementine is, uh, basically family. We actually live together, which she loves.” The whole room exclaims softly in understanding. Caroline gives Clementine a look that has her holding back a laugh.

Clementine just puts her head down with a smile and waits for everyone to come into the room for the official welcome. Her pager goes off in the middle so she has to sneak out of the room quietly. She catches Nico’s eye before leaving and he gives her an imperceptible nod. 

She tries to keep out of everyone’s way as the players pop into various rooms to say hi to the kids and their parents. She poses for a few pictures at request from both PR departments, smiling the biggest when the social team asks for a picture of her, Luke and Jack together. It’s nice to see the kids really happy, and she does stick around in a patient’s room when Luke is reading a story to one of them.

“The kids like him,” she jumps slightly at Nico’s voice. He grimaces. “Sorry.”

She waves off his apology, staring at the scene. “Probably because he’s practically still one himself. I remember doing this for him when he was that age.”

“You’re a bit far away from Manhattan.”

“Yeah. I volunteered to come out here for a few weeks since they needed extra hands. I should be back at NYU after the new year. Had no idea you guys were gonna be here today. Would’ve warned everyone how annoying you all were.”

“You think I’m annoying?” Nico jokes. 

“All hockey players are annoying.” She turns to Nico and flashes a smile. “I’m kidding. Thanks for coming. The kids always love it anytime professional athletes come in to say hey.”

“The least we can do,” Nico says with a shrug. “It’s probably my favorite event of the year.”

She nudges his shoulder, “I saw you earlier, with little Artie. You’re not bad with the kiddos either.”

“Oh, thanks. They’re sweet. That’s a big compliment coming from you.”

“Well, it’s a bit different for me when interacting with kids is part of my job,” her smile widens watching as Jude, the patient, is laughing at Luke’s exaggerated voices. “Let’s leave these two be. Come with me?”

Nico falls into step with her. “Where we going?”

“I gotta check in on one of our patients, who, if I know her, is probably painting some watercolor landscape while bickering with her sister. I’m sure your big brown eyes and smile can keep her entertained while I take some of her vitals.”

Clementine stops at a room, knocks twice on a door with a purple and pink sticker-covered name card taped on the front, Lacy spelled out in big block letters. She peeks her head in. “Hey. Mind if I come in?”

“Do I have a choice?” The 11-year-old girl sasses. Clementine rolls her eyes, shooting her 17-year-old sister Maisie a quick smile. Maisie just nods in greeting before turning back to her laptop.

“I’m bringing a visitor in here too. Be nice,” Clementine warns. Lacy just keeps painting. She opens the door wider and Nico follows her in. “You recognize this guy?”

Lacy looks up and snorts, though a small genuine smile appears on her face. “Any hockey fan living in the state of New Jersey would recognize him. Hi Nico.”

“Hi Lacy. It’s nice to meet you. Can I pull up a chair for a second?”

Lacy shrugs. “Sure.” Nico shakes Maisie’s hand quickly first before grabbing a chair and sitting by her bedside. Clementine gets started on her notes. “I saw your game the other night. Against the Wild,” Lacy says.

“Oh yeah? What did you think?”

“I mean, at least you guys won in overtime. It probably shouldn’t have even gone to that point.”

Clementine coughs to hide her laugh, Maisie admonishes Lacy, but Nico just chuckles. “That’s a fair assessment. You like hockey?”

“Yeah. I used to play. Before all this.”

“Oh yeah? What position?”

“Center.” 

“That makes sense. You seem like you like to score goals.” She hums. Out of the corner of Clementine’s eye, she sees the girl offer a brush and a blank piece of paper to Nico. Clementine smiles to herself. Nico takes the brush. “You got a favorite player on the Devils?”

“Do you just want me to say you?”

“Not if it’s not true.”

Clementine chuckles, “Don’t hurt his ego too much, Lace. He might not be able to handle it. One to ten?”

“Three,” Lacy answers in reference to the frequency of pain scale she and Clementine have come up with. “My favorite is Dawson, by the way. You’re third on my list.”

“I’ll take that,” Nico says with a satisfied smile. “Who’s second?”

“Probably Jack. Or Haula. It depends on the day.”

Nico’s eyes light up as Clementine rolls her eyes to herself. “Jack, huh? Has Clementine told you that she knows him?”

Lacy stops painting for a second. “What do you mean ‘knows him?’”

Clementine gives Lacy a cup of water and waits for her to take her pill. “I’ve known Jack since he was born. Luke too.”

Lacy’s eyes pop open, and Clementine thinks that she would’ve mentioned this earlier if she knew that this was the reaction she’d get. Lacy’s been a hard nut to crack in terms of opening up to her. “Really? Quinn’s one of the best defensemen in the league, in my opinion.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him. He’ll appreciate that.”

“Pretty cool, right?” Nico remarks, carefully dipping his brush in water.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” Clementine says. “I knew you were a hockey fan. I didn’t know you were a Devils fan. Isn’t your dad a Rangers fan?”

Nico grimaces automatically as Lacy nods. “Yeah, but red’s prettier. And the Devils are better.”

“That’s right. And don’t forget it,” Nico says. 

“Hey, Lace. Dawson isn’t here, but do you want me to go find Jack and see if he’s around?”

“Sure. I don’t have my jersey though and I wanted him to sign it.”

“We’ll send you another one and he can sign that one,” Nico says. Maisie tries to protest but Nico just shakes his head. “It’s no problem at all. I’ll send you mine though. To convince you to move me higher on your list.”

“I mean, I won’t say no to that.” Clementine and Nico just chuckle. 

“Be right back,” Clementine promises. 

She closes the door and takes a moment to watch the two. Nico’s trying to paint some sort of sunset and lets Lacy guide his hand, listening intently as Lacy gives him some artistic advice. She’s never seen such softness in someone’s eyes before as Nico is looking at the young girl. And later, when Nico hands her two tickets for a game in January, it’s the most excited she’s seen Lacy.

…..

Clementine finds that she has Christmas Eve and Christmas Day off, so the three of them decide to do their own little Christmas Eve celebration — Ellen and Jim are heading to Vancouver to spend the holiday with Quinn and the various family they have out there — before going to Jack and Luke’s family again on Christmas Day. They ask her if Nico can join them Christmas Eve, before going with them to their family’s on Christmas Day, since his family can’t fly out this time around for the holidays. She immediately agrees, and digs her knitting supplies out from the few unpacked boxes in her closet and stops by the fabric store right by the hospital after work. 

Later that night, after a game, Luke waves his greeting before stumbling into his room while Jack beelines to the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water. He casts his eyes on Clementine on the couch, Canucks game on quietly in the background and a whole bunch of yarn on her lap, her fingers twiddling around knitting needles. 

Jack raises his eyebrows. “Who’s that for?”

“Nico.” The lack of response has her raising her eyes away from her needles. “What?”

“You like him, don’t you?”

“As a person, absolutely. He’s very-”

“Fuck off. You know that’s not what I’m talking about. You like him. Like, stomach has butterflies and all that shit.”

She puts down her needles with a sigh, “Jack-”

“Listen, I know you’re just gonna deny it or whatever. Because that’s what you do. So, I’m not even gonna bother, but Clee. You could do a whole lot worse than Hisch. And he likes you too, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Jack. I’m not gonna date your captain.”

“Why not?”

“Because…I don’t wanna put you or Luke in a weird position.”

“That’s a dumb excuse. Who cares about that? Certainly not Luke and I.” He comes to sit next to her like an eager puppy. “I swear I’m not trying to set you up or whatever. Not intentionally at least. And I really won’t push and let it go if you want me to. But Clee, you seem so at ease around him. And it’s obvious that he just likes everything about you. It doesn’t have to be serious. But maybe just give it a chance before you just shut it down, okay?”

She nods, taking in his words. “Okay, okay. I will.”

“Promise?”

She rolls her eyes, but clasps her pinky with his. They’ve always taken their pinky promises very seriously. “I promise.”

Jack grins, his typical easygoing manner right back. “Good.” 

After a lazy Christmas Eve morning and afternoon watching holiday movies, drinking hot cocoa and feeling at peace, she, Jack, Luke and Nico put on some Christmas music and make gingerbread cookies to bring the next day. She scolds the brothers as they start flinging flour at each other but she does it with a smile that hurts her cheeks and a heart that feels overwhelmingly full. “Silent Night” comes on and to prevent herself from fully bursting into tears, she leaves Luke and Nico to shape the cookies and drags Jack to dance around the kitchen with her. She thinks he understands, as he places a comforting kiss on her forehead, Luke looking on in solemn happiness.

(Nico notices all of their demeanors slightly shift, but he doesn’t press.)

At midnight, they all exchange presents under the twinkling lights of their tree. Nico looks surprised when they tell him they all have presents for him, which is funny considering he has presents for all of them. As the youngest, Luke goes first, and his smile is pure ecstasy, as he receives a really nice watch from Nico, new shoes from Jack and a bottle of cologne that she knows he’s been eyeing from Clementine. Jack’s next, as he gleefully reaches for his presents. Nico gifts him a customized Snapback that has Jack tackling his captain in a hug and almost tipping the tree over, and Luke gets him the newest AirPods to hopefully discourage him from “accidentally” putting his through the wash. Clementine gets Jack a nice leather wallet she saw at a vintage shop a few weeks back and he acts surprised that she knows what he likes style wise, as if she didn’t practically grow up with him and watch his heinous style turn into something passable. 

Clementine insists Nico goes next. Jack and Luke get him a joint present of a massive box of assorted Swiss chocolates and Clementine thinks his eyes literally light up, excitedly talking about how you can’t get most of them outside of Switzerland. As Clementine hands him her present, Nico only raises his eyebrows at the large bag. 

“Should I be scared?”

She scoffs, “Just open the bag, Captain.”

They all laugh, Jack and Luke eagerly watching as Nico carefully takes out the tissue paper. Jack laughs in recognition as Luke just shakes his head fondly when Nico pulls out a giant knitted maroon blanket. 

“I know it seems a bit weird,” Clementine rushes to explain as he unfolds the blanket carefully. “But basically, when I started going to the boys’ games, I would get really cold sitting in the bleachers. So my mom taught me how to knit and I knitted myself a huge blanket, kinda like this one. The parents all saw me with it and eventually started asking if I would knit some for them. And I did, so it’s kinda a thing I like to do when I have time now. Makes for good presents too.”

Nico looks behind him to a similar looking white blanket draped across the couch. “Did you make that?”

She grins. “Yeah. I think that one was the one I gave to Jack right before he left for New Jersey. I know Luke has the one I gave him before he left for Michigan in his room.” 

“It’s super warm,” Luke says.

“Clee doesn’t make these blankets for just anyone,” Jack adds. “She only just made one for Turcs last year after he had been practically begging her for years.” 

Nico folds the blanket back up and reaches over to envelop her in a tight hug. She lets herself rest her head on his shoulder. “Thank you,” he says sincerely. “I love it.”

She just smiles, trying to tell her brain to calm the fuck down before she reaches out to grab Jack and Luke’s (and Quinn, he said to her over the phone this morning) gift for her. She pulls out a photo album and immediately starts sniffling. The first photo on the first page is of her holding Quinn at the hospital right when he was born. Written below, in what she recognizes as Quinn’s handwriting: 

Clem holding Quinn for the first time. October 15, 1999. Orlando, Florida. 

She flips through quickly, finding that it’s photos of her and all of the brothers throughout the years, before closing it and taking a deep breath. “I’ll have to look at this more carefully later when I can cry by myself in my room. Fuck. How long did this take you guys?”

“We got the idea when you told us you were moving in, but we really got to put it together over the summer,” Luke says. “It was also fun getting Mom and Maeve to dig up some of the pictures.” 

She wipes her eyes before giving them both individual, loving hugs and sweet kisses on their cheeks. “Thank you.” It’s not enough. Nothing will ever be enough. But she hopes they understand. 

“Well, I don’t know how I can follow that up,” Nico jokes softly. 

“Stop,” she scolds him lightly, taking the wrapped box from his hands. She rips the paper ungracefully and opens the box. In the box are light pink scrubs. When she unfolds the shirt, she sees tiny bluebells adorning the right side, with her initials in delicate white cursive on the right. 

Nico scratches the back of neck. “Jacky mentioned that pink’s your favorite color and I had Luke sneak into your closet one time when you were at work to grab me your measurements. My sister does embroidery for fun so, uh, yeah.”

She has to bite the inside of her bottom lip from smiling too widely. She already knows it’s going to be her favorite set. Before she can think too hard about it, she practically launches herself into his arms, half in his lap as Nico lets out a surprised grunt but easily catches her. She holds on a bit longer, even placing a quick kiss on his cheek before pulling away. 

“Thank you. I love them.”

(Jack and Luke exchange the most obvious look, yet somehow both Clementine and Nico miss it) 

The next day, they make the hour-long drive. Clementine calls shotgun, and has her feet curled up under her, white sweater stretched over her hands as Jack hums along to the Christmas music playing softly in the background. Nico insisted on getting flowers, which is all too much, but she, Jack and Luke are also bringing two bottles of some really fucking good wine so maybe they’re all on the same page. They’re the last ones to arrive, the house already filled with familial chatter, football on the TV, snacks on the kitchen island and alcohol free flowing. She watches as Nico is embraced like he’s been around for his whole life, even though realistically, he’s maybe only met a few of them in passing when they’ve come to a game. Geegs calls him handsome after .4 seconds of seeing him and she, Jack and Luke all snicker watching his cheeks turn red. It seems like it takes not even three minutes for him to charm every single damn person, especially when he gives Lara the flowers. 

Clementine immerses herself in the cheer of holiday and family, happily answering anyone when she’s asked about her residency. She answers questions about it’s like living with the “terrible two” with ease and laughter, because as much as she likes to give them shit, it’s honestly been one of the best times of her life.

Inevitably, because she might not have their last name but has been part of the family for years, she gets a few questions about her love life, or lack thereof. Lara always jokes that if the stars were slightly different, her and Quinn — or maybe even Jack — could’ve ended up together. And Clementine agrees, because those two boys are so lovely and she knows them so well and loves them so much, but the stars are the way they are, and nothing will ever happen romantically between her and any Hughes brother. 

Romance hasn’t really ever been seriously in the cards for Clementine, which is partially self inflicted. She had something in college that lasted for over two years, but since then, nothing has stuck. She’s always used the excuse of school and now residency, and it’s somewhat true. But even she knows she’s running out of excuses for herself. 

As her eyes flit over to Nico, who’s across the room talking to Luke and Ben, one of their cousins, looking so fucking soft in his gray crewneck and dark washed blue jeans, hair too fluffy and the most heartwarming smile on his face, she tells herself to get it together. 

After over two decades of being around hockey boys, she can’t be developing a crush on the captain of the New Jersey Devils. 

��..

On the morning of New Year’s Day, Clementine tries her best to go about the kitchen quietly to make her breakfast, only to find Jack and Luke already there, sipping on their coffees. 

“Morning boys.”

“Morning Clemmy.”

“Happy new year!”

“Happy new year,” she yawns. “Morning skate?”

“We’re skipping.” Her eyebrows shoot up and Luke just gives her a look. “C’mon, Clemmy. We’re not letting you do this alone.”

She swallows and her voice cracks. “You guys remembered?”

“Clee,” Jack says with a sympathetic smile. “Of course we did.” 

Before she can control it, her eyes water and she sniffles. Luke comes up and pulls her to his side, allowing her to momentarily bury herself into his sweatshirt as she tries to gather herself. Above her head, Luke and Jack share a look as Jack wordlessly grabs a thermos from the cabinet and fills 3/4 of it with coffee, topping it off with oat milk. Clementine pulls away and rubs at her eyes. 

Jack smiles at her. “Picked up some croissants from downstairs we can eat on the way. The florist should be open by now.”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay,” she turns to Luke again and pulls him into a real hug. She only forces herself to pull away so she can give Jack one too, before going to her room to change. 

They stop by the florist downstairs and she picks out a bouquet of fresh daisies. She watches Luke mull over his options before choosing the white lilies as Jack automatically reaches for the pink peonies. He also cradles a bouquet of sunflowers, and when she gives him a confused look, he just smiles.

(“From Quinn. He specifically requested sunflowers.”

Clementine bites her lip, nodding, the image of toddler Quinn almost yanking the sunflowers in the yard in front of her childhood home before her dad stopped him and explained how flowers grow passing through her mind.)

The drive to the cemetery doesn’t take too long. They may be driving in from a different direction than she’s used to, but somehow, it’s like her body knows exactly where she’s going. Once they arrive, she quietly directs them to the right hill and she takes a sip of her coffee before opening the car door. She tries to take the flowers from Luke’s hands but he just softly tells her he’s got it. She’s a step ahead of the two as she leads them to the correct place. 

She smiles as she comes close, seeing the semi-fresh bouquet of roses she knows her mother must’ve placed there three days prior, 28 years to the day they got married. She watches as Luke carefully sets down all their flowers, and she bends down to help him arrange them in a pretty way as Jack unfolds the large blanket. They all sit down and stare at the stone. 

in loving memory of

Miguel Alejandro Sandoval

April 3, 1968 - January 1, 2015

beloved son, uncle, friend, husband and father

As she starts talking softly, some of her words floating away with the slight breeze, Jack hastily grabs her hand with his and intertwines their fingers tightly as Luke adjusts his long limbs so that his head is in her lap. She uses her other hand to play with his curls and takes a shaky breath as Jack places his head on her shoulder. She talks about how she’s back east now and how much she loves residency and how fun it’s been to live with Jack and Luke and how Quinn is captain of the Canucks now and how her mom, Ellen and Jim are doing well. She talks like she’s chatting with her dad over homemade paella on a Sunday morning, rather than in the eerie peacefulness of Flower Hill Cemetery, which is five miles away from the house he grew up in. Jack and Luke don’t say anything, but she doesn’t expect them to. She’s just grateful they’re here with her. 

When they’re about to leave, the two boys request a few minutes without her and she just smiles, kissing her hand and touching the stone before walking away. She sits in the car and waits, watching as Luke leans his head on Jack’s shoulder. After six minutes, they’re all on their way back to Hoboken. 

After lunch, Jack and Luke head over to…one of their teammate’s places to watch whatever football game is on. They ask, more than once, if Clementine wants to join, but she denies. They both then insist on staying, but she overrules them and practically shoves them out the door, promising that she’ll be okay and that she’ll see them later. 

Around an hour later, she’s finishing up prepping some pasta salad for the week ahead when there’s a knock at the door. She hums to herself, confused. She’s not expecting anyone who doesn’t have a key to the place. She swings open the door. 

“Nico?” She smiles, albeit confused. “Uh, Hi. Jack and Luke aren’t here.”

“I know. I just saw them.” She’s still confused, but she goes to the side to allow him to come in, closing the door behind him. He slips off his shoes and clears his throat. “Happy new year.”

“Happy new year. Not that I’m not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?”

“I just..I was at Nate’s,” Ah, so that’s where they went. “And Jack and Luke came in and we were all bummed you weren’t coming and asked why. They didn’t say much, if that’s what you’re worried about. But I, you know, as captain or whatever, asked them if everything was okay and they said it was and I asked if you not being there had anything to do with why they skipped practice this morning and you know them, especially Jack. He’s such a shitty liar. He just said that it may be a hard day for you today, and I wanted to see if you were okay.”

Clementine isn’t offended, by any means. Too much time — nine years worth of it — has passed for her to feel any animosity of any sort about a touchy thing like this, especially when it’s just Jack and Luke looking out for her. She just smiles, reaching out a hand to take Nico’s coat. “I’m okay. But if you really want to know, it’ll take a bit of time. I’m giving you an out, Cap. It is New Year’s Day.”

“I want to know everything about you,” he says, walking further into her place. She’ll have to unpack that one later. 

“Tea or coffee? Or whatever disgusting protein shake Lukey has in the fridge?”

Nico snorts, settling himself down on the coach with the comfortability of someone who lives here. Then again, Clementine is reminded, as he unfolds the white knitted blanket, that Nico’s known the layout of this apartment longer than she has. “Coffee, please. Black is fine.”

“Abysmal,” she remarks, pouring out a cup for him and herself. She sets them down on the coffee table before smiling at him. “Be right back.” She goes into her room to dig through her bookshelf for a specific photo album that she only cracks open during January 1 of every year. It doesn’t take long before she paddles back to the living room, placing the album next to her coffee. She sits a respectable distance from Nico, but tucks herself under the blanket anyway. She watches him sip his coffee for a few moments.

“We were at the cemetery this morning. That’s why Jack and Luke asked to skip morning skate. We were visiting my dad. He died nine years ago today. Cancer,” she says, like she’s recalling a medical fact she read in her textbook. “He was, god, my best friend, really. And the best person, in my completely biased opinion. But maybe not. Miguel Sandoval, everyone used to say — still says — had a heart of gold and a smile as bright as the sun. He loved being outside. Worked as an environmental engineer. He loved chocolate ice cream. He hated mosquitos, always cursed them out in Spanish during the summer just to make me and my mom laugh. He always kicked the ball around in the backyard with me, even after an exhausting day at work. He made the best paella, made it pretty much every Sunday. God, he really did light up every room he walked into. He loved my mom. Loved me. And we loved him. Love him.” She reaches for the album and offers it to Nico, who slowly starts flicking through the pages. She looks on with him at the photos. “My mom, Maeve, and Ellen, Luke and Jack’s mom, played soccer at UNH together and just kept in touch throughout the years. My mom and dad met at UNH too. And then Ellen met Jim, and the four of them were so, so tight, I’ve been told. Double dates, all of that.” She smiles, looking at her mom and dad’s wedding photos. “Ellen was my mom’s maid of honor, and my mom was hers. They always like to remind me that I was in my mom’s stomach when Ellen and Jim got married. Anyways, I was 18 when he died, so looking back, I’m grateful that I even had that many years with him, but at the same time, it felt so short. 100 years wouldn’t have been enough time with him.”

“He sounds like an amazing man,” Nico says softly. 

Clementine smiles with him. “He was. It’s easier now. Nine years is a long time. But during the few years after, it was really hard. I felt really guilty going to UCLA just months after he died.  Was about to throw it away and go somewhere close to home instead, but my mom insisted, knowing it was my dream school. I felt guilty leaving her across the country, in a fucking different country, but it did help that she had people around to support her. It’s still not easy. This time of the year is always pretty hard on me. And it’ll never really go away. But time does heal.”

She takes a sip of coffee to gather her thoughts, as Nico continues perusing the album, laughing at some and cooing at others when the Hughes brothers start making an appearance. They stop at a picture of her father holding Luke right when he was born in the hospital, Jim proudly smiling in the background and young Jack and Quinn looking on. “My dad loved the boys and I don’t even think saying he loved them captures 1% of it. Those boys were his boys. If I didn’t have soccer games or practices, he was tagging along to all their hockey stuff after work and on the weekends. He didn’t know jackshit about the sport at first, but he eventually learned the ins and outs of the game because he wanted to support them. Did Jack ever tell you why he chose 86? Or why Luke chose 43?”

“I think Jack just said it was a family number or something,” Nico says. “Didn’t go much into it.”

“My dad’s birthday is April 3. 43. I think all of them wore it during their first year at the program. And then Quinn and Luke decided to go back to it in college and beyond, obviously. 43 doubled is 86, of course, but my dad, who was also a middle child, used to say Jack’s personality was so big and bold that it doubled his siblings’. The boys loved him just as much as he loved them.” By now, the tears are gushing down her cheeks. “Sometimes, I think that the three of them took the loss harder than I did. He never got to see them play for their country. He never got to see them get drafted. He never got to witness their first points in the show. And fuck, my dad would’ve cheered so loud. Would’ve been so proud. Probably is so proud, wherever he is. But, you know, during the big moments, and the little ones, we all know he’s there. I just know he is.”

“He is.”

She calms herself down a bit and chuckles. “Sorry, I know it’s a lot.”

“No, no.” They shift closer to each other and she leans into him as he puts an arm around her shoulder. “It’s not a lot. I-thank you. For telling me all of this. Thank you for trusting me.”

Clementine just shrugs, but the weight of her shoulders feels heavy. “I’ve never felt the need to justify to others what the Hughes family means to me, but telling people about…this usually gives them some context. I frankly don’t know if I would’ve survived and gotten through it without them. It’s more than just family friends at this point. It’s family, but it’s also something so much more. I get reminded everyday how lucky I am to have them.” 

(She swallows, thinking back to her ex-somethings that could’ve been something more had they not let their insecurities show after finding out how three of her closest friends are not just guys, but nationally scouted hockey players, thinking back to a splattering of girls who she thought were her friends but subtly changed their attitudes when they tried to get Clementine to put a good word in, thinking back to some who brushed aside her own accomplishments to fixate on her pseudo-brothers’ careers. She’s never directly mentioned it to any of the boys. It’s not their burden to worry about. But even if they aren’t as smart as her, she thinks they have an idea)

Nico nods. She thinks he may understand, weirdly enough, despite the different circumstances. It seems like Nico just understands a lot. Nico smiles, setting the album back down gently on the table in front of them. “Your ability to love greatly. Your natural protectiveness. Did that come from your dad?”

“Yeah, actually. I love my mom, of course. But she’s always been more of the tough love parent. I think the protectiveness was more of just the situation I was put in, being the oldest out of all of us and also an only child. But the love…a lot of people who knew my dad say we’re very similar in that aspect. So thank you. I’ll take it as a compliment. That means a lot to me.”

She busies herself and sips on her coffee. Nico clears his throat. "You can feel free to tell me to fuck off, but I just…did your dad’s situation influence you to want to become a doctor?”

“Sorta. I kinda always knew that I wanted to do something in science, but it definitely solidified when he died. I did think about going the oncologist route, a doctor that deals with cancer, but I ultimately decided that it hit too close to home. I-I’d like to think that in a profession that’s dedicated to trying our best to save lives, that I have a perspective on death that helps me more than harms me. Helps the patient and their family more too, hopefully.”

“That’s an extremely mature way to look at it.”

“Jesus, Cap. Way to make me feel old. I’m only 26, you know.”

“With all the stuff you’ve gone through, you’re probably more emotionally, like, 37.” Well, he kinda has a point. “But seriously though. What a beautiful perspective.”

“I appreciate that a lot, thank you.” She snuggles more into the blanket, and therefore, closer to Nico. “Bet you didn’t think you’d get this to start off your year.”

She feels the ghost of his lips press to her hair and hopes he doesn’t feel her racing heart. “Perhaps not. But I’m pretty content with how it’s going so far.”

…..

For Nico’s birthday, Clementine asks Emilia, who’s Swiss, what some traditional Swiss desserts are. After getting a recipe for a semi-complicated cake from Emilia from her mother, she gets to work.

She makes two cakes, or Zuger Kirschtorte, the larger one for Nico and the smaller one for her, Luke and Jack. It takes a good chunk of her evening, but she makes it a whole thing, putting on the Devils vs Caps game, measuring ingredients and going back towards her laptop to make sure she’s following the recipe correctly. She’s momentarily grateful that both boys aren’t here, partially so they don’t distract her in case she fucks up but mostly so they don’t start teasing her. She knows they will eventually, but she would rather hold it off as long as possible. 

The cake turns out really good, which is a bit surprising. Clementine’s always liked baking, but she’s not amazing at it. She carefully puts the larger cake in a disposable container, setting it on the counter to give it to Jack and Luke to give to Nico tomorrow morning, putting the smaller one in the fridge. Before she sleeps, she places a sticky note on the lid, “do not touch or i’ll kill you” written out in all capital letters.

(The next morning, Nico smiles when he sees that Clementine had sent him a short text reading “Happy Birthday Cap!! Enjoy your day :)” When Jack walks into the locker room, cake in his hand and beelining towards him, he’s confused. 

“Special delivery for the birthday boy,” Jack says with a knowing smile. 

Nico furrows his eyebrows. “From who?”

Jack nods to the card taped to the top of the lid. “Read the card and find out.”

Nico sets the cake beside him carefully as Jack practically skips to his stall. He ignores what he feels like are multiple eyes on him as he opens the card. He feels his throat dry up. 

Captain, 

Happy birthday!! It’s always a joy seeing and talking to you, so thank you for bringing that into my time in Jersey so far. I tried my best with the cake, so forgive me if it isn’t perfect, but I hope it brings you a sense of home. 

With love, 

Clementine

Nico takes a closer look at the cake and does a double take, before shooting her a quick text of gratitude and carefully putting it into his locker. Hours later, when he finally gets to try it, he closes his eyes in happiness, savoring the taste of a dessert his grandma used to make all the time when he was younger and thinks about the girl who made it. 

Two days later, when Clementine’s at The Rock to see all Hughes brothers together on the ice as the Devils take on the Canucks, he’s hoping to catch a glimpse of her afterwards. After getting a hattrick, he’s on a high and he’s hoping even more to get a chance to see her afterwards.

He comes out of the locker room, tired but happy, and first sees Ellen Hughes’s unmistakably bright smile. He greets her politely, grin widening as she pulls him into a motherly hug. He shakes Jim’s hand before Clementine practically jumps onto him, congratulating him on his hat trick with a happy squeal. He can’t help but laugh and squeeze her just a bit tighter before letting go and ruffling Luke’s hair. 

“Hey,” he lowers his voice so only Clementine can hear. “Thank you. For the cake. You really didn’t have to. It was delicious.”

“Really?” She says, tucking her hair behind her ears and bouncing on her toes. “Oh, I’m so glad you liked it!”

“How did you-where did you get the recipe?”

“One of my friends from the hospital is Swiss. I asked her, and she got it from her mom.”

All Nico can do is blink, because he’s so fucking touched that someone would go out of the way like that. He takes a second to look at Clementine’s beautiful smile and takes a deep breath. “I really appreciate it. Thank you.”

She just beams. Nico wants to bottle it up. 

Right as he’s slipping into bed that night, he checks his texts one last time, furrowing his eyebrows when he sees a text from Luke from four minutes ago. It’s a Twitter link. Confused, Nico clicks on it. It’s a short clip of the broadcast from the game earlier, after he had scored his hattrick. It shows him celebrating on the ice, then pans the bench, fans, before panning to the Hughes family box. He smiles, watching as everyone cheers, but he immediately notices Clementine, in Quinn’s Canucks jersey nonetheless, jumping out of her seat first and raising her arms in excitement, clapping and shouting and smiling.

As he’s watching the video again, Luke sends another text. 

Luke Hughes

Ask her out already 

I’m getting impatient

Nico just dislikes the second text. He watches the video one more time before shutting off his phone.)

…..

Residency keeps Clementine crazy busy the next few weeks, that even though she wants to go to more games, she’s either working or too tired to drag herself to The Rock. She barely can keep her eyes open even when she puts a game on the TV, and is always fully asleep before Quinn and the Canucks on the west coast even take the ice. 

But finally, on a cold Saturday, on their day off, she drags Emilia along to see the Devils face the Canadiens. It’s a plus that she gets to see Cole again, because Cole has the ability to always put a smile on her face. 

Additionally, it’s a noon game, which is super rare. And Clementine takes that as a chance to host a small little thing at their place afterwards with an open invite to any of the players — on both teams — and their families. She can’t keep track of who knows who in the small world of professional hockey. She’s getting some of her residency friends to come too. 

If she has the energy and time to host something, she’ll do it. She used to love hosting in college and med school, even if it was just something as simple as a potluck. She’s aware it’s the middle of the season and they can’t go crazy, but she loves filling her home with love and conversation. 

Right after the game, she and Emilia both bolt out of there, Clementine momentarily thankful that they coincidentally parked close to the entrance so she could fight her way out of the lot within a decent time. Luckily, a lot of significant others offered to bring something or pick something up, so she and Emilia don’t have to prepare that much. Once they reach the apartment, Emilia helps Clementine out with her giant charcuterie board before taking out the tray of lemon squares she had made the night before and starting to cut them. 

Soon enough, everyone trickles in seemingly one after the other and Clementine is bustling around, making her rounds. She practically pounces on Cole, smiling at the sight of his smile and demanding him to catch her up on everything. 

She’s so busy mingling that she forgets to pour herself a glass of wine even though the bottles have already been opened. She doesn’t really realize it until she feels a tap on her shoulder and turns around to see Nico with a smile paired with a glass of wine in his hand. 

“For you,” Nico says softly. Somehow, it stands out above the loudish volume chatter in the apartment. “Got the last of it in that glass. Figured you might want some.”

She accepts the glass with a grateful smile. “Thanks, Cap. This one is one of my favorites.”

“I figured,” he says. She raises an eyebrow. He smiles a bit shyly. “On Christmas, you brought two bottles of that when we went to see Jack and Luke, and well, your, family. And I’ve seen at least one bottle of it at the apartment every time I’ve gone in recently and I know for a fact that Luke doesn’t like wine and Jack doesn’t know a shitty one from a good one.”

She snorts. “You’d think that allowing them to sneak some from my glass at family dinners for so long would’ve given them some taste. Instead, Luke has decided that a shitty beer is always his go-to and Jack’s go-to drink is a margarita like a psychopath.”

Nico chuckles, amused. “Bashing on Luke’s drink of choice is fair, even if I don’t agree, but what do you have against margaritas?”

“Many of my not-so-great moments in college have started with tequila,” she says with a shudder. “Even the smell of it makes me want to throw up these days.”

He laughs as she sips on her lovely wine. “Party animal back at college?”

“I wouldn’t say so. But work hard, play hard was the motto for a lot of my friends, and I wasn’t always strong enough to ward away their pleas.” She nods at him. “How about you? Is your drink of choice actually beer or are you normal?”

“I’m not picky. Beer’s pretty huge back home, though. So it’s what will usually be shoved in your hand whether you like it or not.”

“I went to Zurich two years ago for a friend’s wedding. It might be the most beautiful place I’ve ever been to.”

“Zurich’s great,” Nico smiles, his eyes flashing in a way she hasn’t seen before. “The whole country. It’s beautiful. It’s home. There’s nothing like home.”

“You miss it during the season? Or are you used to it by now?”

“Mostly used to it. It makes it all the more special when I do go back in the summer, you know? Also, it’s nice to have Siegs, Schmido and Timo here. A little taste of home even though we’re so far from it. Remind me again where home is for you? Toronto, right? Or Michigan?”

She chuckles. “It’s tricky. I grew up in Toronto, but my mom lives in Boston now. And you know, I was out in California for so long. So Toronto, but also Massachusetts, but also California? I don’t really know. But I’m also going to be in Jersey for the next four-ish years at least, so right now, it’s New Jersey.”

“And you’re happy with that?”

Clementine looks around the apartment with a giddy smile. “If it’s gonna look something like this, I think so.” 

“Clem!” She turns her head to see Cole bouncing towards her. He halts quickly though. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You’re good, man.” Nico says, shooting one last smile at Clementine. “Enjoy the wine.”

“Thanks for getting it for me.” He nods once and gives a friendly pat to Cole’s shoulder before walking towards the living room. 

Cole looks between Nico’s retreating back and Clementine, a mischievous smile growing on his lips. She narrows her eyes. “I don’t like that smile, Coley. What do you want?”

“Nothing! It’s a lovely little thing you have here. Thanks for inviting me.”

“Anytime. You looked great out there earlier.”

Cole puffs out his chest a bit and she refrains from rolling her eyes. “You think?”

“Well, I’m not an analyst. Or a coach. Or an expert of the game of hockey in any way. So take all my opinions with a grain of salt.”

“Sure,” he says, leaning his hip on the counter behind him. “But with the amount of hockey games you’ve watched in your lifetime combined with how much you’ve been surrounded by it all your life, I’d say you could give even the best analysts at The Athletic a run for their money.”

“Not by choice,” she grunts. 

Cole just smiles. His default expression, which Clementine can’t help but just adore. “Sure, Clem. Sure.”

“You’re being weird. What do you want?”

“For years you’ve been around hockey players. For years you’ve been around them flirting with you. And you finally crack because of the Swiss captain?”

She plops a few nuts in her mouth. “Whatever Jack and Luke have been feeding you, ignore it. You should know better.”

“They’re not feeding me anything, thank you very much!” She gives him a skeptical look. Cole, like the weakling he is, cracks. “Okay, maybe they have. But I’m also not blind, Clem. Hischier’s well-liked in the league. I think you two would be good together.”

She points at him playfully. “It is not your job to be thinking about these things.”

“Then whose is it?” He shoots back, playful smile still on his face but with a more serious tinge on the edges. “Clem, we’re not 16 anymore. Give us some credit. Let us matchmake a little.”

She snorts. “With love, absolutely fucking not. I know Jack has this fantasy in his head that I’ll date his captain and it’ll be all great, but he needs to chill.”

“He told you that?”

“More or less. He’s not subtle.”

Cole shrugs. “I’m not pushing, Clem. I’m not Jack or, even worse, Trevor. But just, I don’t know. Maybe it’s not just a fantasy in Jack’s mind. He adores Nico. And you know he thinks the world of you. Maybe he actually sees something there. I don’t think he’d encourage it so much or fuck around with that just to fuck around. You’re some of the most important people in his life.” 

Clementine sneaks a look at Nico, who’s literally just existing, and she can’t help but smile. At the sight of his smile. At the sight of him talking to Emilia. At the possibilities. But she turns back to Cole with a dimmer smile. “I don’t know, Coley. It’s not that-Nico’s amazing. He’s honestly just so…good. I don’t think he has a manipulative bone in his body. I just feel like I come with so much baggage, you know? No one’s gonna want that.” 

Cole makes a noise in his throat. “Okay, first of all. It’s not baggage. It’s life. Everyone comes with some sort of baggage, so that’s stupid. Second of all, you have so many people who already love you despite the ‘baggage.’ What’s adding one more person to that list?” 

She just hums. Cole offers her a smile, before switching topics to the Taylor Swift concert he went to last summer, which she knows he’s bringing up just to rile her up.

…..

On April 3, Clementine wakes up for work, to see that Jack and Luke are already awake, much to her surprise. She looks to the kitchen island and sees a plate of blueberry pancakes. She smiles sadly — her dad used to always make blueberry pancakes for breakfast if the boys were over. She doesn’t say anything and just hugs them both tightly as they all dig in. She has to run to work, and kisses them both on the cheek before heading out, promising to see them tonight.

After her shift ends, Clementine ducks into the staff bathroom to change. No jersey this time, but a cropped black Devils crewneck she cut herself with skinny jeans. She bids farewell to her coworkers before swiping her keycard and hopping on the train to Madison Square Garden. She’s meeting up with Emilia, who had the day off, and her husband Tony to watch the Devils take on the Rangers.

She’s grown to love The Rock, but going to a game at Madison Square Garden is pretty cool, even if she gets playfully chirped by Rangers fans multiple times as she walks in. She happily sips on her rum and coke, chatting with Emilia and Tony as she sees the seats slowly fill with blue. Hockey is always fun to watch, but she hasn't been to a game yet that has a rivalry quite like this one. 

As the game starts and she naturally gets into it, she finds herself having a moment where she wishes her father was in the empty seat next to hers. Luke scores a goal, and for a split second, her fingers itch to reach out to hug him as if he was there. She shakes it off and just keeps cheering and playfully getting up in Emilia and Tony’s faces while trying not to spill her second rum and coke for the night. Seeing the 43 on Luke’s jersey makes her emotional and she bites her lip to keep herself together.

Afterwards, after a tough 2-1 loss, she bids Emilia and Tony goodnight as she tries to find the path to the locker rooms, even though she always insists that she doesn’t need an all-access pass or whatever, especially at an away game. But Jack and Luke always insist (“We’re literally all going to the same place after anyways. And this one is at MSG. We gotta make sure you haven’t been injured by their fans.”) and she’s learned to pick her battles with them. 

It’s a nice enough night out, so she decides to wait outside instead of inside the hallway, texting Jack and Luke that she’s outside the exit. She ends up chatting with Jared, one of the guys on their equipment team, about how his daughter is just about to finish her first year of med school at UMass before the doors swing open. As usual, she gives Luke and then Jack comforting hugs, kissing their cheeks and ruffling their hair. Various members of the team start trickling out and she greets them all with smiles, chuckling softly as Dawson wraps her in a tight hug. 

Since MSG is decently close to Newark (without traffic, that is, which is practically impossible for New York City), a lot of the guys drove together to come to the arena this morning. So she watches as they debate who’s getting in whose car, since apparently it has to be different from this morning because of who lives where and a bunch of factors Clementine doesn’t understand. As long as she’s getting home somehow, she doesn’t care. 

She’s tuned them out so it takes Jack calling her name twice for her to pay attention. “Sorry. What’s up?”

“Do you mind riding with Neeks?” Jack says, waving his hand around. “We have a bigger car and it’s easier if we drop off Nate, Holtzy and-”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s fine,” she turns to Nico. “You sure you have room? I can always just take the train back.”

Nico snorts, “Jack and Luke would kill me if I had you going back on the train this late. I have plenty of room in my car. I’m just taking Bratter back.” 

“Only if you’re sure,” she says, before nodding at Jack and Luke. “See you both at home.”

(She misses the look that the boys all give Nico)

She insists that Jesper take the front seat, practically shoving him and quickly climbing into the back, making Nico laugh. Somehow, the traffic in Lincoln Tunnel is bearable and they’re in Jersey City in just over half an hour. Clementine hops out to give Jesper a hug once they reach his place before sliding into the passenger seat. 

Nico hands her the aux cord, as Jesper had been auxing earlier. She gives him a look. “Are you sure?”

He looks behind him before pulling back on the road. “Why wouldn’t I be?” She hums in response, satisfied, before shuffling one of her playlists. “When do you have to go into work tomorrow?”

“Uh, not until after lunch.”

“Perfect. Are you hungry?” 

“A bit actually, yeah.”

“Wanna grab a quick bite to eat and maybe a drink? I know a place that’s pretty close to here.”

She looks at the side of his face with a smile. “Yeah,” she says softly. “That sounds great.”

Nico catches her eye quickly, and smiles back. “Okay, great. Yeah.”

Within 10 minutes, Nico parks his car in the parking lot of a beer garden. It’s lively, but not crowded enough to overwhelm her. The outside patio is beautiful, and Nico just looks behind her with an encouraging smile. Without thinking, she grabs his hand and they walk in. 

He confidently strolls up to the bar, greeting the bartender, who seems to recognize him and greets him with a friendly handshake, causing her to let go of his hand. The bartender, Adam, he introduces himself as, is already filling up a pint of beer for Nico as he asks her what she wants to drink. She orders herself a rum and coke. He asks if Nico wants “his usual” for the food order and Nico nods, also adding something else that he says too fast for Clementine to decipher. But Adam just nods, before saying he’ll put the order in and goes to prepare their drinks. 

“You come around here often?”

Nico shrugs. “I guess. A bunch of the boys do. It’s a good place to hang out and grab some food.” They both grab their drinks and Nico leads her to the outdoor patio with his hand hovering over her back.

She slides into her seat, putting her hair up and taking a sip of her drink. “I’m sorry about the loss.”

“It’s not the end of the world, since we’ve already clinched playoffs…”

“But it still sucks?” She finishes for him. He nods, and she offers a sympathetic smile. “I get it, especially against the Rangers, I’m sure. But you guys still skated really well.”

“Thanks.” He smiles over his glass. “How was your day?”

Clementine blinks repeatedly, her throat suddenly feeling rough. It’s more likely that he’s just asking to be polite, but the fact that after a tough loss, he’s interested and cares enough to even ask. He must notice something shift in her eyes because he softens, hands itching to grab hers. She does the job for him, grabbing his hand probably too quickly. But before she can think too much on it, he loosely intertwines their fingers on the table. 

She clears her throat. “Honestly, not the best. Ending on a good note though.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

She chuckles weakly. “Would you even wanna hear it?”

“Of course I would.”

She finds nothing but sincerity in his eyes. She takes another sip of her drink. “One of the our cancer patient’s chemo results came back ineffective, which is just…so fucking shitty. Docs aren't deterred though and they talked with the kid’s parents today about targeted therapies which is good…” she trails off with a shrug. “Just being in the room as they broke the news, it…I don’t know. It’s always tough. Had me thinking.”

“Back to your own dad?” Nico asks carefully. 

Clementine nods, surprised that he remembered. Before she can respond, their food comes and her stomach is happy seeing the large tray of loaded fries in front of them. They dig in for a moment and she nods. “Yeah.”

“Do you do anything special to celebrate? For his birthday?” He asks. 

“Nothing really set in stone. I always try to do something, whether it’s watch his favorite movie or listen to his favorite songs. Something small and personal. I’m usually not in town to visit his grave, but my mom tries to go. He used to always make blueberry pancakes, so Jack and Luke made some this morning, which was sweet.”

“Jack and Luke know how to make pancakes?”

She snorts. “I’m just as surprised as you are. Yeah, so nothing crazy. Called my mom during my lunch break just to make sure she was all good.”

“What does she do?”

“She’s a teacher. 5th grade. So 10 and 11 year olds. She loves it. All the teachers have their own little group. She has her summers off to travel and spend time with family and friends.” Clementine pulls out her phone, quickly finding a picture in her camera roll of her and mom earlier this year at her graduation. “Good old Maeve. Irish to the core and proud of it, yet still can curse you out in Spanish pretty well. Says that that was one of the first things my dad taught her when they were in college.”

Nico laughs. “I still automatically switch to Swiss-German when I wanna curse and chirp. It takes a couple of seconds to translate to English in my head. But sometimes it just sounds so much better in Swiss-German that I wish people could understand.”

“Do you think in Swiss-German still, or do you think more in English?”

“It depends. I would say day to day, definitely Swiss-German. But if I’m at the rink and I’m, you know, talking to the team and stuff, usually English. I’ve trained myself in games to think pretty much in English now, since it’s so fast. But if I’m tired, my brain just switches back to Swiss-German.”

“That makes sense.”

“Do you speak any other languages?” 

She wipes her fingers on her napkin. “I speak enough Spanish to be able to get by, though it’s not as great as it used to be. Apparently I was fluent as a child.”

“Is all your family in the states?”

“Nah. Every year during the summer when I was a kid, we used to go to Spain and Ireland to see family over there. I haven’t gotten to go back there in a few years, but I’d like to at some point.”

Nico hums, just as a waiter comes with a plate of two large chocolate chip cookies. Clementine grins at Nico, who just nods at her to dig in. “Where in Spain is your family from?”

“Seville area, so more south.” She smiles, picturing Seville in her head, some of the rum and coke finally hitting her. “I loved getting to see where my dad grew up. Playing soccer in the fields where he played. Eating at the small restaurants he used to eat at. Remember when you asked me where home was?” Nico blinks for a moment before nodding. “I think I lied. It’s physical places sure, but it’s always been more of the people for me. And their joy and where they feel the most joy. So if we’re basing it off that, home could be Seville. Home could be Cork in Ireland. Home could be Toronto. Home could be Boston. Hell, home could be fucking Michigan with Q, Jack and Lukey even if I’ve only been there, like, three times.” 

“Well, where’s home for you at this second? Right here. Right now.”

“I don’t know. Everywhere? Nowhere?” She looks down at the table, eyebrows furrowing at herself at how emotional she’s getting. She blames the rum, from just now and earlier at the game. “That’s a depressing answer. I’m sorry. I guess, I just, when Luke scored tonight, the 43 on the back of his jersey, for a split second, I thought my dad was sitting next to me. I reached out to the empty seat next to me like he was. But he wasn’t. And I’m so, so sad he wasn’t.” She sniffles, “I’m sorry. Fuck. This isn’t-”

“Hey, hey.” Nico assures, holding her hand across the table again. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, okay? Nothing. I promise.”

She doesn’t let any tears fall and just stares into Nico’s comforting eyes with a small laugh. “I feel like you’ve seen me emotional a decent amount considering how short of a time we’ve known each other.”

“That’s okay. Emotions are good.” She chuckles again and his dimples grow deeper. “I-I figured today might be hard. I wanted- I wanted to check in and make sure you were okay.”

“So you only asked me to grab food for ulterior motives? Not just cause you wanted to hang out?”

His eyes widen almost comically. “No! No. I-I love spending time with you. I just-”

“Relax, Nico. I’m just messing with you,” she giggles as he rolls his eyes. “I appreciate it, though. Really. I think you’re too kind to me.”

“I’m just the right amount of kind to you.” 

She watches as he finishes off his beer and has a sudden urge to lean across the table and kiss him. 

…..

(That night, when she comes home, she expects Jack and Luke to be asleep. They aren’t. Instead, they’re both sitting on the couch, some random hockey game on quietly in the background. Their heads snap in her direction as the door clicks shut. 

She immediately holds up her hand. “Don’t even. I don’t wanna hear it.”

“Hear what?” Luke says. “That you’re fucking our captain?”

“Crude, first of all. Untrue, second of all. And third of all, and most importantly, you guys are annoying.”

“You’re deflecting,” Jack sings. 

“You haven’t asked me a question,” she shoots back. “Goodnight, you two.”

They both groan. “Can you both just get over whatever the fuck you two have going on and make it official?” Jack whines. 

“Goodnight,” she repeats, walking to her room. “Don’t forget breakfast tomorrow!”

She collapses on her bed and screams into her pillow)

…..

If Clementine’s completely honest to herself, making it to the home games for the playoffs is a priority because she just wants to be there just as much, if not more, than she wants to be there to support. Hockey with stakes is nerve wracking, but it’s also a completely different game than the regular season. Even after what could be the most bone-tiring day of work, she’s excited to have the next month or so be filled with as much hockey as possible. She doesn’t even try to fight when Jack and Luke automatically put her name down for a ticket for every home game. Even if she won’t be able to make it come the day, she’ll just leave it for one of their friends. She heard that some of Luke’s Michigan friends are trying to make it out, to which she’s simultaneously elated by but also dreading. Their apartment will not be quiet for the foreseeable future.

The day of their first game against the Penguins, she doesn’t have to go into the hospital, since she had just done two overnights in three days. She sleeps soundly until 2 p.m., and crawls out quietly, knowing both Jack and Luke’s door are shut as they’re taking their pregame naps. She pours out a cup of coffee, makes herself a sandwich, before settling on the couch with a textbook beside her and her notebook on her lap. 

She hears Jack and Luke start getting ready, shower heads running and closet doors opening and shutting. When they both come out in their game day suits, she insists on taking a picture of the both of them, to which they both groan at. They relent, and she sends the picture to Ellen, Jim and Quinn, before squeezing them and telling them good luck, promising them that she’ll see them afterwards. 

After they leave, she starts getting ready, humming to herself as she heats up the flat iron to put some waves and volume into her hair. She figures she has the time, and she hasn’t done anything to her hair in awhile. 

As she’s about to put the flat iron to her hair, someone knocks on the door. She rolls her eyes and yells out, “You two have keys, you know? Use them for once.” No response, just three more knocks. She huffs in annoyance, sets her flat iron down and walks to the door. 

“I’m going to fucking kill-oh.” It’s Nico, in his perfect game day suit with his hair styled perfectly. “Nico. Hey. Aren’t you supposed to be-”

He kisses her. 

Oh. 

He’s still kissing her, both his hands on her cheeks and she finds herself fisting his shirt. He’s still kissing her, and she doesn’t want him to stop. He tries to pull away, but she pulls him back in, and she smiles against his lips at the little noise that comes out of his mouth. He tastes like mint and home.

He does eventually pull away, flushed and delighted and flustered. “I have to go.”

“You have impeccably shit timing, Cap.”

They both chuckle. He takes a hold of her hands. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. I just had to.”

“Why?” She’s not letting him go that easy.

He squeezes her hands. His stare is making her feel the most seen she’s felt in awhile. “Well, I-I have a long answer that I don’t think I can think of right now. But the short answer is that I like you. A lot. And I’ve wanted to kiss you since the day at the hospital and every day since.”

She swallows, straightening his shirt that she messed up. “Go. I’ll see you after the game, yeah?” She kisses him on the cheek before forcing herself to back away. With one last grin, he shoves his hands in his pockets and turns around. She leans her hip against the door frame, “Nico?”

He turns back around in the middle of the hallway, “Yeah?”

She grins, fondness in her skin and bones. “Good luck. You’ll be great.” With one last salute from him, she closes the door. She leans her back against her door and lets out a little squeal. 

…..

(The second Nico walks out of the locker room, all she can see is him. His hair is messy as all hell and he looks exhausted, but his face lights up, and for the first time, she knows it’s because of her.

Without another word, she walks over to him and kisses him. It’s hard to ignore the cheers and whistles from the other people around them, but she ignores them, catching her breath with a giggle. She finally hones in on the other people in the room. Dawson’s grinning, Ryleigh shoots her a thumbs up, Curtis is audibly ‘aww’ing, Jonas is yelling something that she can’t understand but Nico can, judging from his blush. 

“Ew,” Nico and Clementine whip around to see Luke with his nose scrunched up. “Like, I’m happy that you two finally, you know, got your heads out of your asses, but ew. I don’t wanna see it.”

Jack, who’s right next to him, is just grinning. For once, he’s saying nothing. Clementine’s suspicious. She narrows her eyes at him. “Nothing to say, Jacky?”

“Nothing Hisch doesn’t already know,” the two centers exchange a look that has her whipping her head between the both of them. “He’s just lucky we already played Vancouver so he doesn’t have to encounter Quinn.”

“You guys are ridiculous,” Clementine scolds. “Leave him alone.”

“Never, especially not now. Now he’s really stuck with us.” Jack beams. “You gonna ride with Cap or are we taking you home?”

She pokes Nico in the side. He looks down at her with a sweet smile. “Drive me home?” She asks.

“Always.”

For herself, but more to annoy Jack and Luke, she kisses him one more time. They both groan as Clementine feels Nico’s smile against her lips.)

part two here!

[repulsiveliquidation]

Angel in the House

Ona Batlle x Reader, Part 2.5 of [She's going to be okay.] [La Princesa] [Royalty]

Fluff, just fluff. Okay as I was writing the angsty writer in me came out and there is a little. Whoops.

Word count : 4.2k

“I’ll get her darling, you go back to bed.”

You climb out of bed and walk over to the cot that has a crying La Princesa. It’s two thirty in the morning, Eliana having woken the both of you up three time prior. Being a six-month-old wasn’t easy, she gave both her parents a run for their money.

“What’s wrong my girl?” you ask her quietly, picking her up gently. She’s fussing, you check her diaper but it’s clean. You quickly realize that she’s probably hungry, having been fed a few hours ago. You sigh, kissing Eliana on the forehead softly. You’re going to need to wake Ona, you had hoped you didn’t need to and she could sleep. She had bags under her eyes like you did but you had promised to take the night shifts since she was still on break from football and was home with Eliana the whole day. You slowly walk back over to the bed, rocking the still fussing Eliana.

“Ona?”

“Hm?”

“She’s hungry, hermosa. Can you feed her?”

Ona sits up and rubs her eyes. She looks extremely tired, you feel bad for having to wake her. She nods and silently pulls her (your) hoodie off and slips her bra off her shoulder. You hand her Eliana and she begins to feed her. You walk back around the bed and climb back in, gently sitting behind Ona and maneuvering her between your legs. You look down over her shoulder and admire Eliana, her soft nursing sounds bringing joy to both of your hearts. You kiss Ona’s ear as she leans back into your chest, your arms wrapping around her and holding Eliana too.

“Thank you, darling.” You whisper into her ear; she looks back and smiles, leaning in to kiss your lips softly. “She is perfect, ¿Sí?” Ona asks, hand coming up to stroke Eliana’s cheek softly.

“She is so, so perfect. Just like her Mama.”

Eliana unlatches with a soft pop; you move out from behind them to take her. She burps but spits up all over you, earning a soft scold and a kiss to her tiny nose. You bounce her in your arms for what seems like hours until eventually she does fall asleep. You lay her back in the crib and pull your shirt off, climbing back into bed where Ona seems to have abandoned her shirt too. She wakes up with a start when she feels your side of the bed dip, turning around and facing you. You smile and pull her into your arms, she smiles softly and kisses your chin.

“I’ve got the day off tomorrow.” You tell her softly, she looks up with a surprised look.

“Since when?”

“Since I asked Jonatan at training yesterday.”

“And just when were you going to tell me?”

“In the morning when you yelled at me for being late.”

She chuckles and playfully punches your chest, giggling into it when you lean in kiss her forehead.

“If you’re up to it, I thought maybe we could have a family day out. Maybe drive up to Vilassar de Mar to see Mum and Dad?”

“I’d love that.”

“Good because I called and told them we were coming. Mum’s cooking your favorite.”

//

“Y/N, we’re going to be late!”

“Babe, it’s a half hour drive. We’re not going to be late!”

“You will be when I leave without you!”

You walk out of the bedroom with Eliana’s diaper bag that you’ve triple checked. She’s fast asleep in her mother’s arms, gripping her shirt oh so cutely. You walk over to Ona and kiss her lips softly, before kissing Eliana too so she didn’t feel left out.

All buckled up in the car, you began the drive to Ona’s hometown. She sat in the back with Eliana, softly singing along to the radio. It was a beautiful sunny day in Barcelona, you wondered if everyone would be inclined to go down to the beach for a bit.

//

"¡Hija, te he extrañado!"

"¡Hola mamá, yo también te he extrañado!"

“Y/N! My darlings, come in, come in!”

Ona’s mother was quick to take Eliana out of your hands as she cooed softly at her. You walked in with Ona, hand on the small of her back. She sat in the living room with a loud sigh, leaning her head back. You stood in front of her, eyes full of concern.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes, it’s just, we can finally rest if mamá watches Eli for the day.”

“I think she would love nothing more, darling.”

You both look over at her mother, smiling when she tries to get Eli to smile. It’s heartwarming, a memory that both of you will treasure. Just as her mother pulls another funny face, Ona’s father and brother walk in, loudly greeting you both. Joan pulls you in for a tight hug, scolding you for not bringing his niece over more. Her father joins his wife, efforts doubling to try and make Eli smile. She’s an easy-going baby, she loves the attention she gets from all the people who love her dearly.

Eli is left with her abuelo as you and Ona go into the kitchen to help bring the food out. The patio had a long table set up, the warm Barcelona sun beating down on your necks. Food in Spain was a love language, you all ate and ate until you couldn’t anymore. Ona dipped inside to feed Eli, coming back twenty minutes later with a happy baby swaddled comfortably against her mothers’ chest.

//

“Can you take her bebé, she’s fussing again.” Ona asks as everyone sits inside to enjoy the A/C. A habit that clearly developed when Eli was in the womb was the fact that she calmed almost immediately when she heard your voice. No one else could calm the fussy baby better than sweet words from you. Her eyes were wide and attentive when she heard you talking, a little inkling of a smile etched on her face.

“Hola, guapa, you’re giving Mama a hard time huh? Mummy’s got you, you’re such a fussy girl today. You’re just feeling gassy aren’t you, you cheeky monkey? Aren’t you?”

Eli giggled and cooed softly, eyes wide like she always had. You lean back into the couch holding her, softly whispering sweet nothings to your daughter. Her eyes start to feel heavy as she falls asleep on your chest. Ona records the whole interaction, excited to send it to the girls immediately after.

Ona moves and sits beside you, smiling down at the two of you. Her heart fills with love, proud of how far the journey of starting a family had taken both of you. There were many failed attempts at getting pregnant at the start; her body not accepting the first few implants. When she got the call in the changing room that day, she was more scared than anything. You both hadn’t gotten this far before and it terrified her. Every day she hoped and prayed that it would work and there would be no complications till that night in the emergency room where she feared the worst. Now, as she sat her in her parents’ house with her child in your arms and you beaming down at her fondly; she knew that it was all worth it.

“I can hear you thinking.”

Your voice pulls her out of her thoughts as she simply leans in and kisses you. Its chaste, the kind of kiss that has relief laced into it.

“Sorry, just thinking about how far we’ve come. As a couple and as parents.”

“I would do it all over again baby, as long as it’s with you.”

“You’re getting soft.”

“For the two of you? I don’t mind it one bit.”

//

The both of you were cuddling on the couch, Eliana on your chest as she took her afternoon nap. Everyone had decided to do the same, everyone in a little corner to themselves to indulge in a food-induced coma. Ona was patting Eliana’s back softly, head tucked into your neck. This was your favorite part of your day, when you came home from training to join your girls on the couch as they were usually napping when you got home. You kissed Ona’s forehead softly, leaving a lingering kiss there before pulling back.

“Mamá has agreed to watch Eli for a few hours.”

“What for?”

“I’m taking you out on a date.”

“I don’t have anything to wear; bebita, I’m in sweatpants!”

“You’ve never looked more beautiful, mi amor. We leave at 5, hm? Let’s take a family nap now.”

//

She did in fact change; she wouldn’t be caught dead on a date in sweats. You tried to convince her that she looks gorgeous even in sweatpants but she just gave you an annoyed look and whisked herself upstairs to rummage in her childhood bedroom for something to change into.

Her parents were more than happy to watch Eli; beaming proudly at her as we left for our date. Ona was being the worried one, telling her parents to call even if she sneezed.

“Babe, she’s in good hands.”

“Yes, but they aren’t my hands and it’s making me nervous.”

“Your parents are wonderful with babies; they raised you and Joan, no?”

“I suppose, we just haven’t left her without us before.”

“We won’t be out too long then, we can get home early and cuddle after, how’s that sound?”

“Okay, I love you.”

“I love you too. C’mon, I wanna spoil my girl.”

You parked the car right up front of the very first restaurant you and Ona went to on a date. It was a little family-owned Spanish place, she had insisted you try it and she took you. Midway through dinner, you asked if this was her way of taking you out on a date. She almost spat out her wine, coughing loudly as she tried to recover from your question. Red as a beet she answered, “Only if you wanted it to be,” to which you replied “I was hoping so.” You had insisted on dessert later on, after sharing a flan you both went back home with smitten smiles on your faces and sweet texts that never stopped. You made it official at training two weeks later, having gone on about 6 dates, by grabbing her face and kissing her in front of everyone when they were teasing.

“There, she’s my girlfriend alright! Happy now?”

“She sure as hell is.”

“Reservation for L/N?”

“Ah, yes! Buenas noches! Right this way.”

“Allow me, my darling.” You say, pulling her chair out as she walks in behind you.

"Gracias, bebé.”

Looking over the menu, the restaurant was still packed for a Wednesday. You were sat in a quiet corner, away from the hustle and the bustle. You start with a house wine, smiling softly when Ona grins widely, excited for your date.

“You remembered.”

“Of course, how could I forget? You took me out on our first date here. Although I didn’t know that I was on a date at the time. Until I asked.”

“I was nervous you would say no so I was okay with us just going to dinner as friends.”

“I’m glad you didn’t ask, darling.”

You order your food and the night goes smoothly. The food was as good as you remember, Ona laughing when you reminisce about her little wine accident the first time you were here. You both felt refreshed by dessert, needing some time to yourselves to recuperate and be the best for Eliana.

In the car, Ona has her hand laced in yours in her lap. Her thumb brushes across your knuckles softly, the lights of Vilassar de Mar beaming across your faces as you drove back to her parents’ house.

“Hola, guapas. Feeling refreshed?” her mother greeted as walked in the front door. Eliana was sleeping in her grandfather’s arms, as his eyes too were feeling heavy.

“Yes, mamá. It was perfect. Was Eli good?”

“She was an angel. Come on, I’ll pack you some leftovers to take home.”

//

Ona and Eli were both fast asleep in the backseat on the drive home. The streets were quiet; not a soul in sight this late. You got home and quietly brought all the gifts Eli got into the house before waking Ona. Her face was squished into the side of Eli’s carrier, finger resting on her small cheek.

“Darling, we’re home.”

“Already? Hm, I really fell asleep.”

“Yes come on, wanna get my girls into bed. We’ve had a long day.”

“I’ll get her, c’mere.”

You pull Eli’s carrier out of the car and help Ona, holding her hand and walking into the house softly. Eli sleeps like the dead, not even making a sound when the door slams a little.

“Sorry, Pequeño. I’ll get her to bed, darling. You go wash up.”

“Are you sure? I can take her.”

“Go, mi vida. I got her.”

When you use Spanish despite being English, Ona’s stomach does backflips. Just hearing you willing to use her native tongue makes her heart swoon. She melts when you use affectionate terms you made the girls teach you, your pronunciation improving over the years of being together. She listens to you, heading towards the bathroom to wash up. She decides on a little bath, hoping that you’ll catch her in here and join her. You do, smiling at the sight of her with her hair up in a messy bun, goddess-like body hidden by lavender-scented bubbles. Your clothes join hers on the floor, turning the lights down and lighting a candle before climbing into the perfectly hot water behind her. She melts into your arms, sighing softly as your hands caress her legs and torso. She’s had a rough couple months since having Eliana. Her once athletic body slowly going back to normal. She knew she’d probably never go back to her previous look but she was relieved that she had someone like you in her corner to remind her of how beautiful she looked despite the stretch marks and other imperfections. You had stood in front of a mirror with her and kissed it all, leaving her blushing and more confident than before. You loved her then and now, every mark a lasting impression and constant reminder of the bundle of joy sleeping in the other room.

“You’re the best.” She says quietly, reaching for your hands to hold around her. She sighs loudly, leaning into your arms again.

“You deserve the best, querida.”

You both sit in the warm water till it goes cold; Ona and you just made out in the bath, the calming scent of lavender from the water and eucalyptus from the candle made it the perfect wind down. Eliana didn’t wake up at all, clearly the day out with her grandparents made her tired. Drying off, you stand there and watch her; eyes filled with fondness for her. She gets self-conscious, shyly wrapping the towel around herself and walking out into the room before you could say anything.

“Hey, don’t run from me!”

By the time you get into the room, she’s got on the biggest hoodie she’s got and is pulling on sweatpants.

“Doll, it’s 30 degrees in here. You’re trying to cook yourself.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not, don’t lie to me. Talk to me, beautiful.”

“I’m not.”

“Huh?”

You step closer to her, having pulled on a pair of shorts and a sports bra yourself. 

“I’m not beautiful. Not right now.”

“What do you mean, cariño? Of course, you’re beautiful.”

“NO! I’M DISGUSTING! YOU’RE JUST SAYING THAT BECAUSE YOU PITY ME!”

She runs back into the bathroom and locks herself in. You stand there shocked, not knowing what you did or said to set her off. You knew she was struggling mentally too and you had tried your best to be there for her and make sure she knew she was loved, clearly you hadn’t been doing enough. Eliana had woken up to the yelling, you walked over and picked her up, cradling her gently.

“Shh, little girl. Mama’s just a little upset, hm? She’ll be okay, she’s just a little overwhelmed. I need you to go back to sleep so I can check on her, deal?” Eliana settles almost immediately, going back to sleep just as you lower her back into the crib. You walk over to the bathroom and knock on the door softly. You can hear Ona crying, it breaks your heart.

“Baby.”

“Please go away.”

“Don’t shut me out, my love.”

“I can’t do this.”

“There’s more to it than you’re telling me, angel. Let me in and let me help you, gorgeous.”

“Why do you love me?”

Her question takes you aback; you just had a wonderful day with family and a perfect date with the most perfect woman (in your humble opinion) and now that same woman is asking you why you love her.

“There are many reasons why I love you, darling. We’d be here for years if you wanted to hear all of them.”

“I’m not who I used to be.”

“I think you mean your body isn’t, my darling. You’re still the same beautiful, funny, gorgeous, smart, masterful fullback that I fell in love with. You’re still the girl who took me on a date that I wasn’t aware of, the girl who beamed for days when I asked you on a date two days later, the girl who gave me the most beautiful daughter in the world. But I also love the broken girl behind this door and I want to be the one to glue you back together darling. I want to find every crack and fix it.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“I don’t deserve you, my sweet. You’re the best, I can only try to be the same for you.”

“It’s open.”

She almost whispers it and you rush in seeing her sitting in the middle. She begins to cry again when you stand there and look her. The tear stains and the wet t-shirt tell you she was really crying hard. You sigh softly and pick her up, carrying her back to bed. You undress her and put her into more appropriate clothes. She stands there and lets you, tears still running down her cheeks. You cup her face and wipe them away, kissing her nose softly.

“I love you. I’m sorry I don’t remind you enough every day. You are so beautiful, so kind, so loving. You’re such a wonderful mother to Eliana, she loves you very much babe.”

“I love you too. Thank you, it means a lot coming from you. I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

You climb into bed with her, holding her close as the only sounds in the room lull you both to sleep; the fan runs softly as the A/C kicks on and off. She pulls herself onto you, face tucked into your neck.

Just as your eyes begin to close she says, “I’ve been having these annoying thoughts for a while. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to worry you. I was wrong, I should have told you. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.”

“I’ll be all ears, cariño.”

//

The sun poured into the room like a flood. There was just a sliver in the curtains but it lit up the room. Ona was draped over you, your arm around her shoulder as she slept the whole night. Eliana woke up several times but Ona slept through the night. You didn’t mind, she deserved it after the weight on her shoulders was lifted.

“Hola, little one. How about we make Mama some breakfast in bed? She deserves a little more pampering before Mummy has to go to training today, what say you?”

Eliana just smiled, as you pulled her into a swaddle. She bounced happily as you cooked, making tortilla de patatas the best you could. You could cook very well but Ona was better at Spanish food than you were. Ona was already awake when you walked into the room with her plate and a cup of coffee, smiling softly when she saw you both.

“Good morning, my love.”

“Good morning, mis chicas.”

“Here’s breakfast, I’ll bring my plate, give me two seconds.”

You walk back to the kitchen and bring your own plate back to bed. Ona sips on her coffee, sighing when it’s exactly how she liked it. You smile and sit back into bed, leaning against the headboard with Eliana still against your chest. She’s fallen back asleep, drooling all over your chest. You both eat in comfortable silence, sunny Barcelona shining throughout the room.

“This is good, you’ve become better at Spanish food.”

“High praise from the Queen! Means a lot babe, it just never comes out the way it does when you do it.”

“It’s delicious, I love it. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

She takes Eli off you, you bring the dishes to the kitchen and clean up quickly. When you walk back into the room, Ona’s feeding Eli and you snap a quick picture. It melts your heart, seeing both your girls having a good start to their day.

“Do you wanna talk about last night?” you ask her as you walk back towards them. She smiles sadly when you sit back in bed with her. She nods softly, eyes looking up at you with pain she knows only you can tell is there.

“I don’t know what happened. When we had Eli, I was so excited. We had been trying for so long, then we finally got pregnant, and then we had the complication and it’s just been so much. I thought it was just a phase, the doctors did talk about PPD but I didn’t think it would be this way.”

“Well, we know now. We can talk to the Barça doctors, they’ll know what we can do to help you. Help us.”

She simply nods, leaning in for a kiss. You oblige her, cupping her cheek softly and kissing her softly. She physically melts into your touch, smiling wide against your lips.

“How about we all go hang out at the pitch for the day? We don’t have a game till Sunday, I’m sure Jonatan won’t mind. The girls certainly won’t. We can talk to the team psychologists when I’m done.”

She nods, her signature wide smile plastered on her face.

“Now, how about we put the little one down for a nap and we take a nice hot shower together?”

//

“You’re going to get soap in my eyes, Y/N!”

“I won’t if you stood still, Pequeño.”

“Just because I’m 3 inches shorter does not give you license to make fun of me.”

You just kiss the side of her head and smile, going back to scrubbing her scalp. You step out of the shower 20 minutes later, both hair washed and bodies scrubbed clean. Once you’ve dressed and not forgotten your kit bag, the whole family drives over to the training center. You walk in with Eliana in your arms, Ona walking behind you with her carrier and diaper bag. You purposely didn’t tell the girls that the both of them were coming, wanting to surprise them with the special guest for the day.

“Nena!” Alexia exclaims when you both walk in, rushing over and taking her from your arms.

“Hello to you too, Ale. I’m doing well, thanks so much for asking.”

“Sí, whatever. How are you, mi vida? Tia Alexia has missed you so much, yes she has!” Alexia coos as the girls surround her. You and Ona can only smile and shake your heads, snapping a few photos to post later on.

“Alexia has become soft since we had Princesa.”

“Don’t make me force you to run laps, Y/N/N.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Watch me. Your mummy thinks she’s funny doesn’t she, cariño?”

“Turning my own child against me Ale, that’s low, even for you.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, I know I’m her favorite.”

//

Ingrid and Mapi walked in later on and had Eliana in their arms in an instant much to Alexia’s displeasure. Mapi was making silly faces with Ona and got Eliana giggling when Ingrid suddenly pulled herself away and walked over to where you were sitting and getting your boots on.

“How is she, elskling?”

“What?” you say, in the back of your head knowing that she isn’t talking about Eliana.

“How is Ona? Is she okay?”

You look at her like she���s got three heads. Ingrid is known to be the more observant one but you didn’t think she would be able to tell that Ona had a rough day. You certainly missed it.

“How did you know?”

“I had a feeling.”

“And yet I missed it.”

“Hey, it’s all part of life. You can’t get everything right.”

“She’s okay but we’re going to see the psych later.”

“That’s good. How about we have a little dinner tonight? I know Mapi would love to have kjære over.”

“I think that’s what she needs, Ingrid. She needs her family.”

[novantinuum]

Fandom: The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom Rating: G Words: 472 Summary: Link and Zelda spend an evening on the shores of Lurelin, enjoying the fruits of the village's first pineapple harvest.

Thank you to @aquaticpal for providing me with this prompt when I needed a little writing inspiration! Shortly after receiving it I realized that there's actually no pineapple in the game itself, so took it upon myself to do a bit of worldbuilding to explain that.

NOTE: This fic contains TotK main quest spoilers.

Enjoy <3

___

“So, when did Lurelin start growing pineapple trees?” Zelda asks, a stream of warm, tart juice from the fruit in question dripping down her chin. “I read about this fruit in the castle’s old recipe books when I was a kid, but I’ve never tasted it before. It was always… an incredibly rare import. And one that wouldn’t last the journey inland to the castle.”

“They were a gift. From the Zora of the Brightcove Domain,” Link murmurs, giving his own wedge of skewered pineapple one last turn over the coals for that perfect golden singe. “Yona’s people. The villagers planted them about three years ago, back when you—“

His voice cuts out.

Back when you—

It’s a phrase he can’t ever bear to finish, not when she still meets his eyes with such adoration and trust reflected in her own, not when this once pleasant, now overpoweringly acidic scent (so, so similar to gloom’s metallic bite, to that awful, awful taste that would linger on his palate for hours on end every time he accidentally swallowed a mouthful of the stuff) smothers his senses.

Back when she was lost to all of them. Back when she was lost to even herself.

“They, uh… they’ve been growing here for a while,” he finishes, working to keep his expression neutral for her sake. “This is only the first harvest.”

Her tone is laced with mild concern as she nods her head towards their campfire. “Link, dear…”

Focus darting back to his cooking, his eyes spring wide. Oh—! He yanks his skewer away from the heat source, giving a harsh blow to extinguish a small burst of flame at its edge. Whoops. Too close. At least all the caramelized sugar should balance out the acidity a little.

Zelda hums, watching his body language closely for a few moments as he takes a hesitant bite into his roasted treat. “So… what do you think?”

“Not bad,” he signs with one hand, the other sticky and occupied by the skewer.

It’s not as sour as he feared it’d be, cooked like this. Of course, nothing can beat his favored choice of roasted apples with honey, but it’s always nice to try something different.

“Well, I like it a lot,” she says, flashing a soft grin.

Moving gently so as to not spook him, she shifts a hand (thankfully not her sticky one) to rest atop his thigh.

“Now that we’re not as busy with reconstruction,” she continues, glancing out at the darkening horizon over the vast blue sea, “we should visit this spot more often.”

He inhales deeply at her touch, reveling in the tangible, unquestionable comfort of her presence. She’s here. He’s here. And so long as they’re together, no demons of the past can lay a finger on them anymore.

“That sounds really nice…”

[dgaftilwedie]

procrastinating on my la squadra afterlife fic to answers these (it should be up later tonight or tmrw depending on if my brain stops having writer's block)

"It was a tight, almost suffocating hug, and it showed every piece of despair and grief that Risotto had to swallow down in the past week."

risotto's.................. i like diving deep into his fucked up little brain and trying to figure out what he WOULD be feeling if he showed it

guhhhh i mean . it's gettting doen....... im feeling very not good about it and i think that's because i have like an audience of people who really want this specific fic and i dont wanna disappoint them LMFAO

i have a creepypasta oc but i haven;t actually written them. a creepypasta. whoops

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” He whispers into your ear. (this is ghiaccio smut) (teehee) (it'll be up on my ao3 soon)

it's literally just risotto's name LMFAOAOAO

when im drafting, i usually just leave it in arial but sometimes i'll spice things up with the loml comic sans

most of my fics are oneshots so i feel like they don't really need a second part

uhmmmmm i think it took me like half an hour?? isn't wasn't really a fic, it was headcanons, but i wrote a lot

THERE IS A FIC IN MY DRAFTS THAT I STOPPED WRITING IN DECEMBER OF LAST YEAR AND I DON;T THINK IM EVER GOING TO FINISH IT EVER

i wanna finish my actual novel LMFAO she's not doing to hot rn

rivals to disgustingly sloppy hate sex to friends with benefits that are secretly in love but bully each other in front of everyone who knows them

i wanna get back into writing for danganronpa :(

99% of the time it just pops into my head when im doing something unrelated and i start tweakin mcgeekin over it

i really like writing when it's like. sorta cloudy but cloudy enough with the sun and it's nice and cool like. typical autumn whether, fall really gets me in the mood to write

my chair in the corner of my bedroom :3

i write a whole bunch of bullshit and when it starts to sound funky, i read it out loud to myself from start to finish and i correct any grammar/spelling issues or anything that sounds funky. i do that a whole bunch until im done and then i give it a quick once over with the google docs spelling/grammar corrector thing (which is actual ass btw but it catches most of the shit that i miss)

i don't keep them LMFAO

i did like three hours of research on lsd once for a crackfic

i've been publishing fanfiction since like 2017 i think

uhmmmm august 8 so like 5 days ago??

sometimes. that's kinda what im going thru rn LMFAO i just keep telling myself that nothing anyone posts online is ever going to be perfect. i just cross my fingers and hope that my writing sounds better than what i think it does.

too detail oriented

i just. kinda. give up for a little bit. let my brain stew. i'll read other people's fanfictions and usually that gives me the motivation i need to finish mine

i make music n blog but i don't really do much :P trying to get more into drawing

sometimes but i usually have to have my earbuds i if there are people around me. and i can't write if they're watching me

either descriptions or dialogue. i LOVE descriptions

the inability to write. the brain farting. the writer's block. god kill me

it's like a 50/50 shot, most of the time it's just a song lyric that i think fits whatever im writing but most of my fics don't even have titles

most of the fics i'm super proud of are one's that i've written for myself LMFAO i should post some of them but they're so embarrassingly self-indulgent

✍️ more fic writer asks!

reblog & your followers can send asks with the questions they’d like you to answer!

the last sentence you wrote

a character whose POV you’re currently exploring

how you feel about your current WIP

a story idea you haven’t written yet

first sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP

the word that appears the most in your current draft (wordcounter.net can tell you)

your preferred writing fonts

if you had to write a sequel to a fic, you’d write one for…

start to finish, how long did it take you to write the last fic you posted?

what is the longest amount of time you’ve let a draft rest before you finished it?

a WIP you’d like to finish someday

a trope you’re really into right now

a fandom you’re thinking about writing for

where do you get your inspiration?

favorite weather for writing

favorite place to write

talk about your writing and editing process

if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic

the most interesting topic you’ve researched for a fic

in what year did you publish your first fic?

when did you publish your most recent fic?

do you ever worry about public reaction to what you’re writing? how do you get past that?

pick three keywords that describe your writing

how do you recharge when you’re not feeling creative?

besides writing, what are your other hobbies?

are you able to write with other people around?

your favorite part of the writing process

your least favorite part of the writing process

how easy is it for you to come up with titles?

share a fic you’re especially proud of

[thedaveandkimmershow]

April 7 We came home "yesterday"

Yesterday was Going Home Day. 

Flight out of LAX at 520pm, our day's back-timed to my alarm going off at quarter to seven.

A.M.

Which makes the day the most like being at home.

We're on a schedule now. ☹️

Coffee for Kimmer, of course, is first on the To-Do list. As is breakfast for Cookie, Kimmer's cousin's Chihuahua.

As the morning unfolds, coffee is had, fancy tea is had, Father Mike's podcast (from Ascension press) is listened to, reading writing researching studying and writing is indulged and/or engaged, and laundry is finished.

We're keeping an eye on the day's travel schedule. The plan is to drive to LAX first to drop off our gear and luggage that, combined, accounts for the most awkward weight we're pushing and carrying. After checking those bags and scoring boarding passes, we'll jump back in the van and drive to the gas station nearest the Escape Campervan location in Inglewood, about a couple miles in a straight line from the airport. Once the van's checked back in, we'll Lyft it or Uber it back to the airport, heading right for a TSA checkpoint.

Given that the estimated time to get from Irvine to LAX is an hour to an hour-twenty, we shoot for 1pm as our departure time from our temporary SoCal home.

So that's our plan.

Around 11:30 we switch into lunch, shower, and packing mode. We've actually been munching all morning in order to make food and drink disappear that we'd otherwise have to pack.

Our official lunch is the french onion soup 'n salad kit we scored at Trader Joe's the other night on our way out of Crystal Cove.

After that, I'm thinking about packing while Kimmer's thinking about not making her cousin regret that he ever let us into his home.

So.

We unload then reload then run the dishwasher. We take out all the trash. We picked up a replacement package of tp the day before. Kimmer ran her cousin's camp laundry through the washer/dryer then I folded the towels, we folded the fitted bed sheet, and she folded the rest. Finally, she returned her nephew's room (the one we commandeer each time we visit) to better than we found it condition.

And... we left some food and drink in the fridge.

While Kimmer's working her magic upstairs, I pull the van in front of the garage and pull everything in it... out of it, placing it all on the floor at the front of the open garage.

Whoops.

BIG mistake.

You see, having packed our gear bags and setting the contents of those bags in specific storage spaces inside the van from front to back, Kimmer's process (which I swear I did not know) is simply to reverse her process when we first arrived. Even when the unloading of gear happened six days ago, she knows where each item goes back into which gear bags based on where each one is in the van. 

Like I said...

Whoops.

So.

Since I placed everything on the garage floor in a very, very loose collection, she couldn't reverse what she'd done. She had to basically start from scratch.

Which she did like a BOSS.

Took her a half hour, the weight of our two gear bags coming in at 38 and 44 pounds.

By the time we pull out of the driveway, it's 130. A half-hour passed what we planned, our schedule is now out of our hands. We will do each thing we already laid out step by step...

And see what happens.

Now, we had figured between an hour to an hour-twenty of travel time between Irvine and LAX. We wound up taking an hour-ten, listening to the Joely Fisher audiobook the whole way.

So. We beat the longest travel estimate for getting from Irvine to LAX by ten minutes.

Sweet. 😊

Here's where we lose the ten minutes we just picked up:

We're within a mile of the airport when I kill Google Maps, opting instead to follow the signage as we approached the airport.

So far so good.

I actually see the sign three times declaring the way to the Southwest terminal parking garage. So I pull into the garage, P1, and find a spot almost immediately. I actually pull up next to/behind the spot, blocking it with my flashers on so we can pull the big bags out the side of the van with plenty of elbow room then I settle the van into its new found parking spot.

Like that we're wheeling our gear bags and clothes bags to the elevator. Only, it seems like ticketing's straight across from us. So we try the next elevator over thinking it might actually be a crosswalk taking us across.

No luck.

I do see an enclosed sky bridge one floor up so we take the elevator only to discover the sky bridge is for employees only. It's at this point we realize that we've seen no mention of "Departures" on any sign on any wall anywhere. "Arrivals" yes. "Departures" no. Which is when we start entertaining the idea that there may be no way to get from here to there and really start thinking we need to move to another parking garage.

Walking back to the elevator we first encountered one floor down, we realize we can take the elevator to street level, "Arrivals" street level, "Baggage Claim" street level where we can walk the cross-walk to the terminal entrance and, once inside, we can catch an escalator, stairs, or an elevator to ticketing. Which is what we do.

The elevator, by the way, is how we rolled. And three o'clock is when we reached check-in.

Three-fifteen we're in the van again on our way out the garage to our next stop: the gas station nearest the Escape Campervan location in Inglewood. We fill up the tank with a little over a hundred bucks of regular gasoline for just under three hundred miles of travel that used up a half tank of gas across a week of use.

By the way, gas prices down here are a buck more per gallon than they are at home.

Just sayin'. 🤨

Three-thirty's when we're pulling into the Escape Campervan lot that closes at four. Minutes later I'm unloading our carry-ons from the van when the attendant asks me

Is this yours?

It's a parking pass. The one Kimmer's cousin loaned us for on-property parking while he was away and we were basically living in his home.

It also happens to be the parking pass we were supposed to leave on the kitchen counter before we left for the airport.

🤬🤬🤬

Yeah.

That was not good.

We'll have to next-day it as soon as we're home.

Hopefully the fact that we left his place in good shape will cause him to curse our names just a leetle bit less than he would otherwise indulge.

Hopefully.

Fingers crossed the pass makes it back to his home before he does. 

Quarter to four is when our Uber driver picks us up. Wonderful human being, by the way. A native of Costa Rica, his mother moved the family to L.A. where she studied when she was younger. We thought it was cool, the part about Costa Rica. 

It is, he says, as long as you like rain and humidity.

Oh.

Still sounds cool, though. 

He has a couple kids, a boy and a girl, twelve and fifteen, so we talk kids the rest of the way. Four on the nose is when he drops us at the Southwest terminal. 

Not bad but still a little behind our plan, the idea being to hit the front door an hour before boarding.

That would be 450, fifty minutes from now. Like I said, not bad... but also not great.

What is great, though, is that since our bags are already checked we're heading straight for the TSA checkpoint that, as it turns out, has no line.

Okay there's one person in front of us. My point is... we sail straight through except for they need to run my rucksack twice because, basically, it's pretty cluttered in there. 🤔🤨

We reach our gate twenty minutes after we hit the front door, twenty minutes prior to boarding.

We actually have time to sit. ☺️

Our plane lifts off at quarter past five, landing in San Jose forty-five minutes later.

Checking our flight information, I see our connection's two gates down and doesn't board until 755.

Once inside the terminal, we discover our flight's delayed a half hour so we figure that's a sign we should sit down for dinner at a place we just passed by.

At the entrance is a sign that reads Please wait to be seated so we wait right next to that sign where we can see the place is getting slammed and there are only two people waiting on everyone whether they're at the bar or at a table.

Finally, we catch a table, figure out what we want to eat (glazed brussel sprouts) then turn our attention to what we want to drink.

Only.

There are no drinks listed on the menu so we ask for a drink menu only there isn't one. We ask if there's a drink menu online.

Nope.

The waiter says Just tell me what you want. I'll tell you how much it is.

Ooooo.

That doesn't sound right.

So Kimmer goes back to the entrance where a menu's posted and takes a photo of the drink section. When she gets back to the table, we decide on a pair of Angry Orchards and let the waiter know.

That's nine dollars each.

Whoops.

The sign outside says $8.49. Not a big deal but it does contribute to a vibe like maybe we wanna go someplace else. Especially when we point out the discrepancy and then we're asked if we'd like to speak to the manager.

Oh for God's sake.

So we just deal with it having ordered the two ciders and the glazed brussel sprouts.

Sitting at the table, it's obvious the two wait staff personnel are absolutely maxed out by the number of people who've converged for dinner. Later it's obvious: two people are quite sufficient most of the time. But sometimes they just.

Get.

Slammed.

And I'm sure the price discrepancy between what's posted outside and what's stored in the register is well above the pay grade of wait staff to remedy.

Later, our waiter stops by and asks if we'd like some fries. 

I tell him no.

Then he tells me they're on the house.

So I tell him yes. We'd looooove some. 😁

Kimmer makes it a point to acknowledge how wait staff was being slammed, moving fast as possible in order to serve everyone. Doing a great job given the circumstances.

Thank you. Thank you.

Eventually it's time to go so it's time to pay. With that in mind, we leave a 33% cash tip for our waiter before wishing each other heartfelt fare-thee-wells.

In retrospect, it striking how much of a bad mood we were indulging from the jump. I'm just glad we were all able to recover and pivot.

We all ended well with each other. ☺️

In other news, by the time we got up from our dinner, our flight delay was extended to 45 minutes. So we made a beeline for the open room where they have all the comfy chairs and couches and desk space and electrical outlets. Just what the doctor ordered for a pair of readers and writers, one of whom immediately pulls out a Trader Joe's bar of dark chocolate that she actually shares with the class. 😁

By the time our plane leaves the ground, it's somewhere between quarter of and ten.

One thing I wanna mention about the flight is that we'd claimed the two-seat emergency row and, when it came time for the stewardess to explain our responsibilities, she did so standing in the aisle next to the seat in front of me, her right hand resting on the headrest of that seat.

Kimmer notices how the stewardess is wearing a beautiful silver ring. It's wide with fine engravings. Kimmer mentions to the stewardess how beautiful she finds the ring.

Later, the stewardess returns to tell Kimmer she bought the ring during a trip she took with her mom to Dublin, Ireland.

Every shopkeeper there was trying to sell her the ubiquitous Claddah ring...

...but she held firm to wanting something different. After a week of searching, she finally struck gold or, in this case, silver.

It's called a Warrior Ring and it.

Is.

Beautiful.

Definitely not one of those souvenirs positively everyone returns home with. 

Which definitely has a certain appeal. I won't lie.

😊

By the time we pulled into gate at SeaTac, there's about fifteen minutes left in the day. We're running an hour-fifteen late at this point but hey.

We're back in our hometown.

Unfortunately, we'regonna be stuck at the airport another half hour or so because four planes landed around the same time and the bags from each is being fed into the baggage conveyor system one flight at a time. So that's us basically waiting for each flight's luggage to move through the system. 🤨🤔🤬

Soon as we've got our bags, though, we are outta there, up an escalator (no easy feat with all our gear in tow), across a sky bridge, down another escalator (a variation on no easy feat), across the street to Island 1 where I call for a Doug Fox pickup.

Five minutes later, ten minutes later, one shows up down the way and, as we get closer, it fills up. Completely full. Behind it, though, is a second shuttle. A family that was turned away from the first shuttle gets there first. I see the writing on the wall so I ask the driver to hail us a third shuttle.

"How many of you are there?" the driver asks.

"Just two. But we've got a lot of gear" I say, pointing behind me.

"Are you okay with standing for a couple minutes?"

I turn back to Kimmer, repeating the question.

She nods. Grudgingly.

"Yes" I tell the driver.

Kimmer grabs her bags and heads for the shuttle door. Behind me I hear some talking and then I hear Kimmer thank someone profusely.

When eventually I return with gear bags in tow, I discover a dad and son have given up their seats for us.

Holy smokes.

That was super sweet and definitely took the grudge out of her. 😊

Between that and the genuine friendliness of the shuttle driver, we recovered well from any sourness we felt over the delays and inconveniences. It was the second time this night we recovered from a negative spin.

Thankfully.

As the driver said, it was a quick trip to the lot. A couple carloads of travelers, anxious to get home, were off the shuttle with their belongings lightning fast so we were back at our van that fast as well.

By the time we rolled out of the lot, it's quarter to one.

Fifteen minutes until 1AM.

The ride home goes smoothly. No trouble staying awake, that is, and by 'n by (ten minutes until 2AM) we roll into our driveway.

Home.

At last.

Yet still a small surprise awaits.

Okay so when we lived on Capitol Hill, we had a young gentleman take care of our apartment and our cats. During one of his cat-sitting turns for us, he discovered we owned a Light Bright set. So he placed the light pegs to spell out

WELCOME HOME.

It was really very sweet when we walked through the door. More sweet than I would've guessed.

So now we're walking up the drive to see he's found the Christmas lights we strung around our living room's picture window. The Christmas lights I've basically yet to take down. He's found them and turned them on, a lovely, cheerful Welcome Home, frankly, in the middle of the night.

Again. The experience was more sweet than I would've guessed.

It really is lovely to have the tiniest bit of fanfare when we come home from our travels.

And we really really appreciate this one.

☺️

It may have been last year or the year before at the end of one of our travels that I first broached the idea that the end of a vacation, any vacation, can happen before you get home. I think at the time I wrote that we were at a restaurant at John Wayne Airport. A wine bar. Sipping samples as the sun set beyond the far edge of the airfield.

That was the universe stamping The End on that particular trip.

And this one?

When did this one end?

I've gotta say that leaving Kimmer's cousin's place in the campervan merely signaled a continuation of our adventure as we crossed paths this evening and night with the people at Escape Campervan in Inglewood, with the woman who helped us with our bags at Southwest ticketing desk at LAX (not that easy, my friends), with the waiter at that restaurant in San Jose Airport, with that stewardess on our last leg home who told a story about a warrior ring, with the people at baggage claim with whom we valiantly waited in the wee-est hour of the morning, with fellow travelers and a kind driver on a fully packed shuttle bus, with a young man whose job was done at our home who lit up a string of lights at the front of our house to finally welcome us home.

Yeah.

That's where our travels ended this time.

Right there when we got home.

🤔🤨🙂

PS - Interestingly, we got to bed around 3AM, an oddball coincidence with the early morning hour we'd woken up seven mornings before as we prepared to leave for the airport from our overnight hotel near the airport.

3AM.

I hope it's a while before we see that hour again.

🤨

[maxlarens]

street racing au: drabble

pairing(s): oscar piastri x reader; landoscar x reader if you squint

an: was struggling with the larger one shot i set out to do, so i decided to just write a lil drabble in the universe! im addicted to em dashes in this, just a warning. also i do not claim to know anything about cars or how they work or how engines work soooo just suspend your disbelief pls.

You’re not looking for him— that’s the first thing.

You’re never looking for him, but you find each other anyway. Over and over. It’s almost as if he’s the car next to yours at every streetlight you pull up to past midnight. White gloss rear and that Japanese style ‘OSCO’ numberplate that you roll your eyes at every time.

It doesn’t help that he lives in the apartment block across from yours. You frequent the same neighbourhood, the same few stretches of road. And you hear his car peel down the street every morning, the growl of it as he heads to work. Like an alarm clock,

like a siren song.

Here’s the second thing: you hate Oscar as much as you enjoy him, which is, apparently, a lot.

You recognise the sound of the engine in his ‘99 GT-R R34 as he rolls into the spot next to you. Of course you do. You recognised it ten minutes ago when you pulled out of the gas station and onto the street—

You roll your eyes to yourself, reach forward to turn the dial up on your music so the bass is thudding in your ears. Then you peer through the window to look at Oscar.

Lando’s in the passenger seat, flashing that charming fucking grin at you. The one that splits across his face, showing pearly whites. You ignore him, you instead eye Oscar behind him who leans forward to make eye contact with you. His face void of anything that god forbid could be considered too strong of an emotion. It screams total calm, but you know what squirms beneath the surface—

foot heavy on the pedal, the voice in his head that pleads to floor it floor it floor it, the feeling of adrenaline on its slow heady trickle down his neck—

sometimes, you think the noise of his engine is the only way he can really feel.

You can’t even see Lando right now, you’ve got tunnel vision on the curl of Oscar’s hair that brushes over his eye. He ticks an eyebrow up at you, asking the question that neither of you need to name. You answer with a slow blink, a resigned sigh that he doesn’t need to hear to understand.

Absently, you can hear Lando shouting out the open window over the thrum of the Fatboy Slim track you’ve got on. So eager, Lando. Like always. Your races with him always start with him honking and revving like a madman, never the calm suggestion of Oscar—

You roll your shoulders, face forward, rev the engine of your Honda to show you’re ready.

Lando whoops loud enough for you to hear it.

You suck in a steady breath, eyes on the traffic light.

One… two… three—

Green.

Shit. Fuck— you floor it.

You only hear the ringing in your ears, the jumpy drumbeat of Praise You, and the thundering of the engine as you push push push.

You’re faster, you know you are. Oscar knows you are too. He can’t abide by it, spends hours upon hours in the backstreet mechanic he works in, tinkering with the car. Testing its limits so it’s louder, faster, better than any car on the streets of Los Angeles right now.

It kills him that your Honda S2000, the thing you touch the inside of maybe once every few months, beats him every time. Secretly, you’re not even sure it’s the car. You think it’s Oscar— you’ve got in his head, in his psyche—

You’ve made him your bitch, whether he likes it or not.

So it doesn’t surprise you when you hit the next set of lights before him, breaks screeching to a halt. Making you cringe— Oscar will have something to say about that later, something rather about wearing down your break pads. Whatever. If you take it into the shop he’ll fix it; he respects your car too much to sabotage it.

Anyway—

It’s silent somehow, even as music thrums in your ears. Or you’re just still, adrenaline pumping in your chest. Breathing hard as the engine idles.

“Fucken— Oi!”, you blink barely registering the noise for a second, “Roll down your window!”

Lando. You snap back into motion, roll down the window and turn the speakers down to a more reasonable volume even though you’ve just woken the whole neighbourhood up with the sound of your cars.

“What?”, you snap.

Lando makes a face, starts saying something unnecessarily elaborative that you’re not sure has any point right now. Something about false starts, or you didn’t give Osco the right warning. Whatever.

You’re looking past him, at Oscar. Who’s peering at you from the driver’s seat again. You watch his tongue dart out to lick his lips with an intensity you hadn’t quite expected from yourself, then he smiles tight-lipped and shoots you a brief thumbs up that’s gone as soon as you see it.

You know you’re eating him alive a little here, can tell from the way Lando’s yapping, like Oscar’s mouthpiece when he doesn’t have the words himself. Can tell from the way his engine purrs and the car rolls back and forth, like an animal waiting on it’s haunches.

Lando’s still going.

You lean halfway out your window, look Oscar right in the eye, “You wanna get something to eat?”

Oscar’s eyebrow twitches up again, he points at Lando who seems shell shocked at being ignored so thoroughly, “Can he come? We’re kind of a package deal, y’know.”

You look at Lando this time, properly. See the mischievous way he grins, tongue running along the length of his teeth.

You shrug, “Yeah, I s’pose.”

“Alright,” Oscar says, then, “Race ‘ya there?”

Adrenaline ignites anew in your chest. You tear your eyes from Oscar’s, crank the music, and set your eyes on the traffic light—

here’s a link to the playlist🙂‍↕️

[icebluecyanide]

Another one from me: 3, 11, 12 and 29 please

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

I think I'll go for Forged in Fire, which didn't have too much going on plotwise, but I loved putting in all the parallels to Eagle Strike and backstory details. And Alex getting a chance to save Yassen's life, of course.

11. What work took you the longest to write?

Definitely A Well-Earned Respite, since it was actually the first ever Alex Rider fic I started writing, a good 8 months before finally finishing it in time for FebuWhump.

In terms of actual hours spent on a fic, perhaps A Binding Promise, since it certainly feels like that one took forever haha.

12. How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year?

Oh gosh, so many. Without giving any details, I've got about twenty ideas that I started writing. I need to create a new list so I even remember half of them, whoops.

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

From A Well-Earned Respite, I really liked these opening lines, which I think establish the scene really well:

The boy on the floor of the cell had turned fifteen two hours ago, but this meant little to any of the people in the room. The hour of midnight had come and gone, with only a new entry in Dr Three’s meticulous notes to reflect it.

Alex, newly fifteen and half out of his mind from pain and fear and sleep deprivation, was likely not even aware of what day it was. The conditions in the cells had been deliberately designed to cause subjects to lose all sense of time. And even if he had been aware, it would have made little difference to him at that moment. The fact that it was his birthday would earn him no reprieve.

But my favourite part is probably the final scene from even if it hurts, especially these lines:

Yassen closes his eyes and suppresses a shiver at the cool skin pressed against him. It feels wrong on a deep, instinctual level, for Alex to be this cold. It reminds Yassen too much of death. It’s only the feeling of Alex’s heart beating in his chest where it’s pressed against Yassen’s that reassures him. The heartbeat is slow and a little irregular, but undeniably there. 

At his neck, Alex breathes a quiet sigh of relief at the warmth, and it tickles his skin. This is a uniquely intimate position for them to be in, likely for Alex as well. Yassen has never been this close to a person before, not even with Hunter. 

He’s vividly aware of Alex pressed against him, the way he squirms sometimes like he’s trying to get even closer. Like he wants to burrow under Yassen’s skin and find his way to his heart. 

[pheedraws]

character study

tagged by the lovely @chuckhansen and @scarlettkat86! thank you both  ❤

tagging @spicevalleys​ @tomexraider @amistrio @starsandskies @tommymillers and anyone else who would like to do it! 

(since I haven’t spoken about the Fallout Duo yet I figured I’d do them...) 

Layer 01: The Outside

Name: Nathaniel Wells (goes by ‘Nate’).

Eye Color: dark brown.

Hair Style/Color: warm black, kept short pre-war due to profession and personal preference; lets it grow longer after leaving the vault. same applies to facial hair. 

Height: 6′1″

Clothing Style: dressed relatively smartly pre-war, wears whatever he can get his hands on nowadays (mainly scavenged armor or leathers suitable for mercenary work).

Best Physical Feature: his smile. 

Layer 02: The Inside

Fears: losing Nora (after they’ve reunited), mirelurks, the glowing sea.

Guilty Pleasures: fancy lad snack cakes, getting on Mag’s nerves, watching the sun rise.

Biggest Pet-peeves: getting stuck training new Operators recruits (thanks, William), dealing with raiders all damn day.

Ambitions For The Future: survive, try to rebuild what they’ve lost, putting an end to the Institute’s bullshit.

Layer 03: Thoughts

First Thought Waking Up: *sigh* another day...

What They Think About Most: how things were before the war, what he’s lost... mostly he stews over what happened to Nora and Shaun; getting knocked out by Kellogg's bullet and frozen for another sixty years left him with a lot of gaps in that particular memory..

What They Think About Right Before Bed: what bullshit am I going to have to deal with tomorrow?

What They Think Their Good Quality Is: his loyalty.

Layer 04: Either Or

Single or Group Dates: while group dates were fun before the war, as he and Nora got more serious they both preferred just simply being with each other. 

To Be Loved or Respected: respected.

Beauty or Brains: brains; kind of the difference between life or death now...

Dogs or Cats: dogs. 

Layer 05: Do They...

Lie: he tries not to; he’s never been a convincing liar.

Believe In Themselves: he has moments of doubt and insecurities, but mercifully most got left behind when the bombs fell. combat is what he’s good at, what he’s used to, so those intrusive thoughts are easier to ignore these days. 

Believe In Love: 100%, he tried to play it cool at first, but the moment he met Nora? he knew.

Want Someone: no one could replace Nora in his eyes. 

Layer 06: Have They...

Been On Stage: yes; he reluctantly got roped into giving a lot of recruitment speeches when in the military.

Done Drugs: recreationally? never. he’ll even avoid using Med-X wherever possible. 

Changed Who They Were To Fit In: before the bombs fell he’d always been quietly confident in himself and who he was, never really feeling the need to put up a facade or fake a personality to get by. post-war? he definitely ups the bravado to fit in with the others at Nuka World. 

Layer 07: What’s Their...

Favorite Color: green (totally not because Nora first hit on him saying his uniform brought out his eyes).

Favorite Animal: dogs.

Favorite Book: Moby Dick. 

Favorite Game: baseball (you would not believe how happy it made him that Fenway survived all-out nuclear war).

Layer 08: Age

Day Their Next Birthday Will Be: march 30.

How Old Will They Be: 239... 

Layer 09: I...

I Love: my wife, my son, my family. 

I Feel: apprehensive about the future; things can’t really get any worse, but will they ever get better? 

I Hide: how lost I feel in this new world sometimes. 

I Miss: my wife, my family, how easy things were before the war... and baseball. 

I Wish: something good comes of all this. 

Layer 01: The Outside

Name: Nora Wells.

Eye Color: dark brown.

Hair Style/Color: dark brown, usually meticulously styled. she still attempts to style it post-war, shortage of hairspray be damned.  

Height: 5′4″

Clothing Style: like Nate, dressed smartly pre-war, favoring trouser suits to skirts. wears whatever she can get her hands on after leaving the vault, though she is still drawn to pre-war aesthetics. 

Best Physical Feature: her eyes. 

Layer 02: The Inside

Fears: not being able to find Shaun, losing Nate again (post-reunion), letting Preston and the Minutemen down.

Guilty Pleasures: hoarding any and all red lipstick she comes across, nuka cola, talking about the good ol’ days with Nick

Biggest Pet-peeves: Travis talking over songs on the radio, no bubble baths, getting stuck in rad storms. 

Ambitions For The Future: find Shaun, stop the Institute, make the commonwealth a better place for settlers.

Layer 03: Thoughts

First Thought Waking Up: sanctuary really needs better mattresses...

What They Think About Most: how she’s going to find Shaun, how much she misses Nate and... before.

What They Think About Right Before Bed: wonder what’s gonna break tomorrow... please don’t let it be the water pump again.

What They Think Their Good Quality Is: her wit.

Layer 04: Either Or

Single or Group Dates: her and Nate had plenty of mutual friends who they loved going out with, but those times where it was just the two of them? those were her favourites.

To Be Loved or Respected: respected.

Beauty or Brains: she’s always believed in a healthy mix of the two.

Dogs or Cats: dogs [Dogmeat loved that] 

Layer 05: Do They...

Lie: she has a way with words, so if a little white lie is going to help their cause or keep someone safe? she has no objection to it. 

Believe In Themselves: Nora seems like a confident person, always has, but inside? she has a lot of doubts, doubly so after the war. she has more people relying on her now than ever before, so she often agonizes over whether she’s doing enough. 

Believe In Love: of course. her and Nate were insufferable saps before the war and nothing could ever weaken that bond, not even death. 

Want Someone: romantically? no. she wants her family back. 

Layer 06: Have They...

Been On Stage: while she hasn’t been on stage outside of presentations and graduations, Nora treated the courtroom like a stage and boy, could she perform...

Done Drugs: she once tried Mentats while studying for high school exams with a friend. they really weren’t worth the yelling she received from her mother afterwards. 

Changed Who They Were To Fit In: she did feel pressures to fit in throughout her youth, whether with friends or at school, and while she never intentionally set out to do so, she did change aspects of her personality depending on who she was with. thankfully no one really cares about appearances these days.

Layer 07: What’s Their

Favorite Color: red (and yes, she does need a lipstick in every shade).

Favorite Animal: foxes.

Favorite Book: The Maltese Falcon.

Favorite Game: blackjack (baseball is a close second).

Layer 08: Age

Day Their Next Birthday Will Be: june 3.

How Old Will They Be: 237. cryogenic stasis does wonders for anti-aging.

Layer 09: I...

I Love: my husband, my son, my family, Dogmeat.

I Feel: out of my depth, worried I’ll never get Shaun back. 

I Hide: how lonely I feel.

I Miss: Nate, my family, hot running water.

I Wish: we can change the commonwealth for the better, and put an end to the institutes reign of terror.

[munsonssub]

Well shit- Joseph Quinn x fem!reader

Prompt: you mistake joe for friend of a friend on a night out. Luckily it leads to a meet-cute

A/n: okay this is the first fic I have written in 7 years! Plus it’s my first ever reader insert so I apologize if it sucks but THERES LIKE NO JOE FICS SO I HAD TO WRITE MY OWN. Also I wrote this on my phone so idk how to edit italics to post if someone could help me. I also don’t know how to add a read more on mobile either so that’s fun. Help me pls

My husband proof read it so if there’s mistakes blame him.

Warnings: smoking, drinking, idk if there’s anything else.

Word count: 1,975. (Whoops)

A normal Saturday night. That’s what your friends promised you when they showed up at your flat three hours ago with two bottles of wine and a glint in their eyes. You should’ve known, should’ve picked up on the fact they showed up ready to go out. Maybe it was blind optimism, thinking they wouldn’t force you out of your cocoon of misery.

Listen, you know they want what’s best for you, with things at work piling up and your stupid now ex boyfriend always texting you, you know you need this. One night off, one night of freedom, one night to say fuck you and just party. But fuck man you just wanted to be back on your couch, watching shitty reality tv, probably snacking on too many sweets to be healthy. Instead you are sitting at a new bar that your friend swore up and down would be chill vibes.

Liar.

People were everywhere. You had lost half of the group when you got here, Already a bottle and a half of wine in.

So here you are, waiting to grab a couple shots while your friend Chloe stands beside you flirting with anyone who will give her a moment because the best drinks are free drinks. Which she isn’t wrong, but you’d just gotten out of a four year relationship, flirting is a foreign language now and you weren’t about to embarrass yourself like that.

When the bartender finally came over to you, you quickly ordered four shots, if you were here to have fun you were having fun, quickly sliding your cash to the bartender you nudged Chloe so she’d take her two shots while you took yours. Honestly you wouldn’t hate this so much if it was just you and her and the friends she showed up at your house with, but as you were getting in your cab to come to the bar she informed you that they were meeting up with other people there. It was quick when you met up barely getting glances of some of the people, as you struggled to light a cigarette. It was fine though as long as Chloe was with you, you knew you could make it through the night.

Finally letting the burning of the alcohol subside you grab Chloe’s hand to go to the dance floor, the next hour passes in a flash of bodies and drinks. Stumbling, very gracefully, you yelled to your other friend, Shelly, that you were going outside, needing a smoke and a break from the music. Pushing through the bodies you made your way to the door, mumbling apologies as you went.

Finally you could breathe once you were outside, mind numb and limps tired you started searching for your smoke pack, you know you put it in your pocket after the one you had when you arrived. Quietly mumbling to yourself you finally gripped it your back pocket. Pulling it out you let out a breath of relaxation only to groan when you flipped the top and realized it was empty.

“Mother fucker, I knew I was forgetting something. Stupid wine.” You sighed leaning against the wall.

Then you saw him. Standing a couple metres away, smoking a cigarette, you recognized the outfit, white button up with loose light wash jeans. You swear he was with your group, or at least a part of the half you met up with. So with the energy you could muster you pushed yourself off the wall, wrapping your arms around yourself and silently hyping yourself up.

Not fully paying attention to what he was taking about you wandered over. you patted his shoulder like a friend who hasn’t seen him in a while would. Smiling as he cut his sentence short, turning to look at you, smoke half way up to his mouth, big brown eyes staring at you as you smiled back.

“Hello good sir,” You mock bow, slightly stumbling towards the wall.

Fuck I swear I’m smoother than this. You thought to yourself.

You look back up at him and smile again as he subtly checks you out, probably wondering why a random drunk girl had wandered up to him.

“So funny thing. Chloe and Shelly made me come out tonight because work is fucked and max non stop texting me is fucked so they decided that I needed to come out and have a good time but my smart self forgot to get smokes before,” you flash him the empty pack with a pout. “And I was wondering because you know them apparently if I could steal a smoke off you.” You ramble, barely noticing his empty hand coming to steady you at your waist as you looked back up at him.

He had a smirk and for a second you wondered if he was apart of the group because you swear you would’ve remembered him, with his beautiful eyes, curly hair, and slight facial hair. Must’ve been one of the guys at the back.

“Uh yeah yeah, sure love, here yah go.” He handed you the lit half smoked cigarette for you to take a drag off of.

Jumping with excitement to finally have a sweet hit of nicotine you grabbed it from his fingers, your warm skin slightly rubbing against his cold fingers. You mock bowed again then took a long drag before blowing it up between the three of you.

“Fuck I’m so rude, I’m Y/N, Chloe didn’t introduce us. Not surprised that girl knows everyone.” You slurred, sticking your hand out for him and his friend to shake.

A moment of realization hit him and his friend, looking at each other as you took another drag before offering it back to him.

You thought they were someone else.

“Nice to meet you love, I’m Jamie and this is Joseph,” his friend gestured to himself then to the man at your side.

Joseph.

You quickly looked over his friend as Joseph grabbed the smoke from your hands. Longish blonde hair, sharp features, beautiful blue eyes. Damn you gotta give Chloe more credit, she sure knows how to get pretty people to be her friends.

“How’s your night been going?” Joseph asks you, turning more towards you as you lean on the wall, his hand slowly leaving your waist. Quickly grabbing his cigarette pack and offering you a full one as you fish for your lighter in your other pocket. Thanking him you took it and quickly lit it up, taking a full pull before exhaling.

“You’re a fucking lifesaver,” you flick the smoke. “It’s going, my feet hurt, and I have done enough shots to probably kill a small horse, but hey, at least I still remember my name. But you Joseph I’m curious about, how’s your night?”

“Could say the same, though I’m nowhere near as drunk as I want to be, this sap here,” he pointed to Jamie, you followed his hand looking at the sole ring on his finger before looking at Jamie. “Wanted to call his girlfriend to check in on her.”

“Oh that’s so cute, fuck I wish my boyfriend did that. All he did was cheat on me during night outs,” You rambled, not noticing how the two men slightly winced at the harshness of your voice, taking a puff and continuing. “Anyways, that’s why I’m out tonight because fuck that guy, you guys wanna do a shot with me?” You spoke quickly before losing your confidence.

“I would, but speaking of my girlfriend she’s almost here to get me but you can steal this man for the night I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.” Jamie winks at you. You giggle slightly, turning more towards Joseph and putting your hand on his chest.

“What do ya say josi? Wanna do a shot? Join me on my level?” You flirt, well you hope you’re flirting, if Chloe knows these guys you know they are used to good flirting.

Joseph laughs to himself, rubbing his thumb on his lip before dropping his cigarette and squishing it out.

“Finish that up and I’m all yours.” He winked at you while pointing at your now half a cigarette.

“Hell yeah, hope you are ready to party.” You drunkenly finish the smoke as Joseph says goodbye to Jamie.

Waving at Jamie as he walks down the street to meet his girlfriend, Joseph pushes himself off the wall to stand in front of you. You giggle slightly before dropping your cigarette and stamping out as he did before. Wiggling your eyebrows you stand to your full height, still a few inches shorter than him.

“You ready for the night of your life?”

“Do you worst darling.” He sticks his hand out for you to start leading him inside.

Another hour passes, filled with Joseph catching up with shots as you tried to keep your buzz at the same level. You had filled the time with talking and getting to know him, he told you about his week that was full of work, never really telling you what he did for work though. You told him about you too, about your job that honestly at this you point you just wanted to quit just so you didn’t have to see your bosses face anymore. Giggling and smiling at each other as you slowly inched closer around the table you were sitting at as you talked. Honestly you were a little peeved Chloe kept this man hidden for so long with how well you were getting along.

Suddenly you felt a weight on your back and the smell of Chloe’s sweet perfume.

“Y/N! There you are. Shelly said you went for a smoke and then you never came back! I thought you died!” She slurred into your ear, hanging off you.

“I’m good clo, met one of your friends outside.” You gestured to Joseph, who looked a little panicked as he sipped on the water bottle he grabbed for the both of you.

Chloe looked over at him, sizing him up for second before turning to you.

“Y/N babe, I don’t know who this is,” Chloe giggled. “though you do have the same style as our friend Scott.” She directed at him.

Joseph paled as you shook your head stopping for a second.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck OH FUCK

That’s why he looked familiar, Chloe’s friend Scott, Scott who wore almost the exact same outfit. Scott who you had only met once. Your eyes widened before you full on started laughing.

“Oh my god. I am so stupid,” you got up and leaned over Joseph, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as his hand came to sit at where they crossed. Leaning down you kissed the side of his head. “You are such a sweetheart, letting me have a cigarette when you don’t even know me.”

“Oh thank god I thought you were going to be mad, I’m sorry love. Didn’t know how to tell you I didn’t know your friend here when you told me about her dragging you out.” He breathlessly said into your ear and you leaned on him. You looked a Chloe and gave her a quick look of ‘get out of here ma’am’ before leaning back up and patting Joseph’s shoulder.

“Well charmer, we can either pretend this didn’t happen, or we can go back out for a smoke and see where the night takes us.” You say to him as he turns in his chair.

“How about this. We go for a smoke,” he hands you his pack as he stands. “And, I take you out on a date next week to apologize for not telling you I don’t know you.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal josi.”

[strwbrrykss]

𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖇𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 | 𝖏. 𝖒𝖆𝖞𝖇𝖆𝖓𝖐

{𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕} 𝑫𝒂𝒚 𝑭𝒐𝒖𝒓: Masturbation 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓: JJ Maybank 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: THIS IS AN 18+/MDNI EVENT, language, caught masturbating, JJ is a horndog, brief/vague mentions of smoking weed throughout, if I missed anything lmk!

[A/N: Day four!! I can’t believe I’m keeping up so far and actually having a good time! This one is on the shorter side but I still had fun writing it nonetheless! As always, let me know what you think by dropping a comment, message or ask! :) - L]

                                                       -/-/-

Now that Summer was in full effect, there was no better way to spend your days off from school, than one of three ways; smoking, surfing and partying. Today was no different as you took another wave, the sun beating down on your back as you steadied your board against the swell.

“Go Y/N!” Kie cheered as she watched from a little further away. John B whooped and cheered along too as you kept your balance all the way along.

“That’s the surf princess right there!” JJ exclaimed and whistled as you finally reached the end of the curl and jumped off your board to celebrate.

Three days ago you’d treated yourself to a new two-piece, since your old one was looking a little past its best. In those three days since, JJ had not left you alone. Not that you were complaining, because who in their right mind would? But all the sudden attention from your new swimwear had definitely boosted your confidence and every interaction with JJ as a result, left you with butterflies.

Hours melted away on the water and as the sun got lower, the good waves became far and few between, with more wipeouts happening as it got darker.

“I’m beat - let’s call it a night,” you suggested as the day caught up with you and hunger started to make itself known instead.

When all of you had swam ashore and towel-dried off, everyone else was in agreement that pizza and weed back at the Chateau sounded like the perfect way to end the day.

The whole way back to the Chateau, JJ seemed glued to your hip. Sat in the back of the Twinkie, he had an arm around you the whole time. He squeezed you that little bit tighter every time you hit a pothole or speedbump. You liked it though. The hot skin-on-skin contact with the playful air between the two of you made it a pleasant drive back through the Cut.

Those ringed fingers you always loved to watch and observe, plucked at your bikini straps teasingly and you shot him a warning look.

“Behave yourself, Maybank.”

“Or what, hm? You’ll punish me?” he remarked in a low whisper against the shell of your ear to avoid being heard by the others. Although the volume of the radio and general chatter offered a bit of a buffer.

“If that’s what you want.” At your reply, he backed up slightly, a rosy tint to his cheeks and his eyes averted from your face. JJ remained quiet for the rest of the ride back to the Chateau.

Clean and comfy once you’d showered and changed, you went in search of JJ, wanting another joint to share with him. Hoodie pulled around you close as you padded through the Chateau, you stopped at the door to his room. Kie, John B and Pope were out on the porch already, making up songs with Kiara’s ukulele.

Behind the door to JJ’s room, muffled noises drew you in. As carefully as possible, you pressed your ear against the faded paintwork to listen in. Heavy breathing and strained moans made your stomach flip and heat crawled over your skin from top to bottom.

“- Fuck...” Your name followed the string of curses and your eyes widened in shock. Your hand reached out for the door handle, just hovering over it. You closed your eyes for a moment and indulged. It was wrong. It could ruin the friendship the two of you had built. But Goddamn if it wasn’t the hottest thing in the world to hear your best friend moan your name.

You hadn’t even realised that you’d opened the door and taken half a step inside until your eyes settled on the sight before you. JJ, half-propped up against the headboard with his legs stretched out, dick in his hand, the hem of his t-shirt between his teeth.

“Holy shit!” You froze and JJ stopped, an equally surprised look on his flushed face.

“JJ -”

“Oh, my God -”

“I’m sorry!”

“Shut the fucking door!” he pleaded through a mouthful of t-shirt and you were quick to oblige. And the silence that followed was deafening.

“So...”

“I was kinda - well, I was in the middle of something, Y/N,” JJ stated, though he made no attempt to cover his modesty, which only made it more difficult for you to listen to what he was saying.

“Yeah, I know... But - But I heard my name and thought -”

“Oh, right. And what? You wanted to see what all the fuss was about?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I heard you moan my name, Maybank. I’m not letting you forgot that,” you remarked back and that’s when he beckoned you over. You made sure to stop just shy of the bed, to keep some kind of distance between you. JJ caught you by the wrist and pulled you onto the bed, clearly thinking differently.

“I, uh... I want you to - watch me.”

[insidetheravensmind]

“𝐈’𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰.”

Pairing ~ CG Changbin x AFAB Reader x CG Bangchan Genre ~ fluff !!warnings!! little space/age regression Word Count ~ 1,706 Author’s Note ~ I love writing cute stuff like this. Also, I meant to post this on the last day of 2022, but instead, I'm posting it on the first day of January. That means this is my first post of the year! Whoop! I apologize for how late this, I had finals and exams and family events to attend. I hope this is good for you. Requested ~ Yes! Check out my Stray Kids Masterlist Support me by buying me a coffee ☕️

link for picture

You’re living life for sure. Changbin and Chan never stop comforting you, their sweet, little angel. 

You were lucky to have the most caring boyfriends in the world, but you were even luckier that they took care of you so sweetly. They were the best you ever had because all the rest were shit.

You always struggled with caregivers, or finding the right ones at least. They always treated you not so well, some of them way worse than the others, but Changbin and Chan treated you gently, like thin glass. 

Now sometimes you were not so small. There were times when you weren’t little, and they still treated you as such making you feel bombarded and upset. Little space was a coping mechanism, and it can’t be one if you’re always small. You do feel grown up sometimes.

Now Chan and Changbin never meant harm, they just wanted to take care of you properly because they love you. They would be understanding, you knew that, but you weren’t sure how to confront them.

Many options went through your head, but you landed on the simplest idea: talking with them during dinner. It’s easy. The three of you sitting in the same place, over food so no one is grumpy, and peacefully at home. There was no losing in this situation, besides Changbin and Chan getting mad at you. Which they wouldn’t.

Right?

You didn’t expect work to be shit that day. You really didn’t. You thought it would be an ordinary day, but of course on the way you needed to have a serious conversation with your boyfriends WORK HAD TO RUIN IT. 

Goddamn retail.

But life must go on, and you’d normally fall into little space after a long crap day of socializing more than you could handle, but you knew you had to talk to them. You knew you couldn’t have a serious talk like that if you were small. So you tried to struggle through it. 

Hours passed after you clocked out and headed home. You were lying in your bed in your room trying to think about how to start the conversation. Dinner was almost done, and you were getting more nervous as the time passed. Chan was making spaghetti aglio e oil because Changbin had been craving it since a few nights ago. 

After you pondered a few more thoughts, Chan called to tell you that dinner was finished. You slowly got out of bed, hands starting to tremble as confrontation arose. But you went. You went to the kitchen where Changbin happily made your plate and set it on the dining room table as you entered. You took your seat, on the end as always and the two men faced each other. Before either of them could strike up the conversation you went for it, knowing it had to be done or else it wouldn’t be done at all.

“We gotta talk.” They stopped and looked at you with confusion and concern. You were never serious. What’s going on? They thought. They looked at each other, trying to decipher what this could be about, having no clue at all. 

Changbin broke the ice first.

“What about, baby?” 

You took a deep breath in and out. They continued to stare at you. 

“I am not always in little space, but the both of you continue to treat me like I am twenty four seven. I need the both of you to understand that it is a coping mechanism for me, and it cannot be one if I’m always in it. Then it just becomes who I am. There are times when I feel big, like an adult, but those feelings are ignored whenever the two of you are with me. I really wish you guys wouldn’t treat me so small all the time because I can’t grow if neither of you help me.”

Then it was quiet. Normally you’d feel awful at a confrontation like that, apologizing immediately after the fact and disregarding your feelings. But you stood your ground. You felt safe enough to. 

Changbin and Chan looked at each other. 

Chan then spoke, “Okay, we get that. We will do better about how we treat you.”

“Yeah, we never want you to feel uncomfortable or unhappy with us around. We don’t try to make you feel that way.” Changbin said. 

“I know! I just… maybe we could come up with a way to say or signal that I feel small?” You give an idea to help move the situation along. 

“That could totally work!” Chan exclaimed, and Changbin nodded in agreement. 

“What kind of signal would you do?” Changbin asked. 

You thought for a moment, not thinking this far into the plan. The boys began to eat as you still pondered about a possible signal. You ate, and all of you were silent while you still thought. 

“Maybe I could do the spy signal thing? When they put their finger on the side of their nose and swipe it?” You asked. Chan smiled at you. “Sounds good to me.” The two men smiled and you finished eating at the table. 

However, your bad day never left your head. As much as you wanted to be small from the long and tiring shift you worked, you felt bad because you just had an entire discussion about how you didn’t always feel small. You didn’t want them to be mad at you for completely shifting perspectives from five minutes ago, but you were also too exhausted to even try and be an adult. You just wanted to be taken care of, and now you feel like you can’t. 

Luckily, Chan and Changbin knew better. They would always take care of you, no matter what. They’d never get mad at you for something as small as that. 

Later that night, when the sky darkened, you were on the couch watching random YouTube videos while Changbin and Chan were in the other room discussing. 

“I know we discussed the whole signal thing, but I think the both of us can tell when Y/N is little.” Changbin whispered to Chan.

“Yeah, we can. I think they’re little right now. I noticed they were upset after coming home from work. Should we wait for the signal? Or should we just take care of her?” Chan asked, nervous he’d cross the boundaries you just set. 

“Let’s wait for the signal. Until then, let’s just cuddle with her and see what happens, yeah?” Changbin said. “Sounds good.” They shared a small kiss before returning to the living room to find you there, snuggled in a fuzzy blanket on the brink of falling asleep. 

The men nodded at each other before walking closer. 

“Hey, baby.” Chan cooed. You stirred. “Can we sit with ya?” He asked. You turned, mumbling a soft “mhm” before sitting up for a brief moment. Chan and Changbin sat next to each other, and you moved so that you were lying on both of their laps. Chan put his fingers through your hair while Changbin caressed you softly. Chan put his other arm around Changbin, and he snuggled closer into his touch while your eyes softly closed. 

While you were dozed off, Chan looked over and smiled and turned his head towards Changbin. “She’s out.” He said. Changbin showed a soft smile. 

An hour had passed, and you woke up groggily. Your hair was messy, and your head felt dazed from lying on Chan’s hard thighs. As you moved to lie on your back, Chan and Changbin looked at you. Changbin spoke, “Hey, Y/N.” Your name. The only time they called you that was when you weren’t little. Which was very, very rare. It felt weird hearing it. But in your lost and exhausted state you vaguely remembered the discussion you had hours ago. 

Very gently, you laid back down, brought a finger to your nose, and softly swiped it across. 

That caused Changbin and Chan’s faces to light up. They immediately moved, so that Changbin could sweep you into his arms and carry you to the one shared room you all have. You snuggled closer into his chest and quietly let his name fall out of your mouth. 

“Binnie…” 

“Yes, little one?”

“I’m sleepy.”

“I know, baby.”

“Binnie and Channie take me to sleep?”

“Yes, babygirl.” Chan said. 

“Otay, Channie.”

“We can’t let you go to sleep without taking care of you first.” Changbin said. 

“But sleepy!” You whined. 

“No buts, baby. You know better.” Chan scolded. 

“I know…” You frowned. 

Changbin placed you in the middle of the king sized bed in the middle of your shared room. He moved to grab your fluffy pajama pants and a small tank top to match. They helped you change into the clothes. Then they moved you to the bathroom, where you all brushed your teeth and hair. They helped you rinse off, but by the time you completed them, you weren’t tired anymore. 

As you all walked back into the bedroom, you jumped around. Chan looked at Changbin. “She’s not tired anymore.” He muttered. Changbin just chuckled. “She’ll be tired in a bit. Just give her a sec.” 

You ran into your room and jumped onto the bed, latching onto your stuffed bunny. “I’m not sleepy anymore!” You said loudly. “Okay, baby.” Changbin stated.

Chan grabbed the covers and pulled them back. “Hey, hun, can you move against the headboard?” Chan asked. You listened and moved. Then he brought the covers over your legs. “But Channie, I’m not tired.” You stated. “I know, but we’re gonna relax for a bit.” 

“Otay, Channie.”

It was a trick. They were good at tricking you into bed. Before you could stop them they had you wrapped in their arms tucked into bed comfortably. You were stuck between the two, while you felt your eyes getting heavy again while they told you a story from the top of their heads. Eventually you laid back, unable to keep your eyes open any longer. 

The two men smiled at each other, both of them giving you a kiss on the head goodnight, and a kiss to each other before turning off the lights and heading to bed.

[searidings]

this is what happens when @ekingston and i get our hands on the prompt “that's my wife!” and agree that she'll draw my idea for it and i'll write hers (aka hearing kara call it out as she watches lena being wheeled down a hospital corridor)

“Excuse me, you can't go through there!”

Kara growls. The woman blocking her path is short and gently rounded, the kind lines of her face drooping in disapproval above her nurse's scrubs. “No visitor access beyond this point, dear. Immediate family only.”

“Immediate— you're joking, right?” Kara cranes her head, peering through the closing doors to catch a last glimpse of Lena's gurney as it rounds the corner at the end of the hall. “That's my wife!”

The nurse gapes at her. “Your—?”

Kara growls again, louder. It's a good thing she'd blown out her powers twenty minutes ago, or she would not be held responsible for the Kryptonian-shaped hole in NC Memorial Hospital's expensive surgery doors. “Yes, my wi—”

Her snarl is cut off by a hand clamping down firmly over her mouth from behind. Kara's first instinct is to bite it. She resists, narrowly, as the familiar scent of shea butter moisturiser registers in her adrenaline-fogged brain.

“You sure about that?” Alex squeaks around a nervous laugh, voice pitched a half-octave too high. She removes her hand from Kara's mouth, wiping her damp palm on her pants with a wrinkled nose. “Get hit on the head during that fight, did you?”

Kara whirls on her sister, eyes blazing. “Am I sure?” she parrots incredulously. Alex cowers a little beneath the force of her stare. “Unless you're trying to tell me I hallucinated my entire wedding—”

“Supergirl isn't married,” Alex stage-whispers loud enough to be heard in Florida, glancing pointedly down at Kara's ash-caked body and oh yeah, she's still wearing her supersuit.

Right, right.

The nurse – Rosemary, her badge reads – finally picks her jaw up off the floor long enough to speak. Her eyes are wide, sparkling with sudden glee. “So Lena Luthor and Su—”

Kara's hackles rise at the suggestion in her tone. “Lena Luthor and Kara Danvers are happily married,” she interrupts sternly. “You might have seen the wedding photos in last month's Vogue.”

The nurse smirks. At her elbow, Alex drops her head into her hands.

“Kara Danvers, hm? Amazing what a pair of glasses do for you, dear.” Rosemary's brow quirks with impish satisfaction and, oh. Whoops. It would appear that in her haste to quash any potential rumours of Lena's infidelity behind the back of her very recent, very publicly human wife, she'd forgotten about the other delicate matter at hand.

Alex sighs so long and so heavy Kara legitimately marvels that she doesn't pass out from the strain. “I knew keeping a spare NDA in my back pocket would pay off,” her sister groans, thrusting an official-looking, if crumpled, contract beneath the nurse's nose.

“Sorry,” Kara murmurs sheepishly as Rosemary signs away page after page of her right to ever disclose Supergirl's identity in any capacity. “I wasn't thinking, I can't— Alex, it's Lena.”  

“I know, I know,” her sister soothes, frustration dissipating as she reaches out to pull Kara into her side, ignoring the soot and grit that smear across her jacket at the contact. “She's gonna be okay.”

“But what if she's not?” Kara asks and the sobs arrive then, the last remnants of the fight or flight response that had propelled her this far dissipating beneath the weight of her terror. “She stepped right in front of that bullet, Alex! Of all the stupid, reckless—”

“If I recall, she was pushing you back after you shoved her out of the way in the first place,” Alex hums thoughtfully. Kara's tear-filled eyes snap to her face, incredulous, and her sister grimaces. “Right, right. Not the time.”

“She has to be okay,” she gasps, clutching hard at her sister's jacket as her knees threaten to give out beneath her. “She has to, I can't— I feel like I can't breathe. Like my heart's been ripped out.”

Alex clicks her tongue in sympathy, wrapping a firm arm round Kara's waist and guiding her to a nearby row of chairs. Rosemary deposits the signed NDA wordlessly on the hard plastic beside them, reaching into her scrubs to produce a pack of tissues.

Alex accepts, extracting one to dab at Kara's snotty, tear-stained face with her free hand. “Welcome to married life, kid,” she chuckles, pressing a kiss to Kara's matted hair. “It can be a real bitch.”

-

It's a long night.  

It's a long night, a night of anxious waiting and barely-restrained nausea and vending machine coffee so bad even Nia won't drink it. Her family, their family, crowd the waiting room, dozing across the rows of seats as the hours drag on and on.

Alex tries her best, at varying intervals, to force her back to the Tower for a stint under the sun lamps. Every time without fail, Kara sets her jaw, then sets her feet in the middle of the surgical wing waiting room and refuses to budge.

This leads to several arguments, and a lot of impassioned shoving.  

“What if she needs me?” Kara laments tearily, pout activated and puppy dog eyes firmly in place. Alex, mid-football tackle with her arms and right shoulder braced against Kara's torso as she attempts to use her entire bodyweight to force her sister toward the exit, only grunts with exertion. Behind them, J’onn dozes in the corner. Brainy and Kelly and Nia continue their conversation without batting an eyelid.

“No, scratch that, she does need me,” Kara corrects, unaffected by her sister's NFL-worthy body slam. “She's been shot. I'm not going anywhere.”

Alex, perhaps finally sensing defeat after her fourth unsuccessful attempt, gives one final shove with all her strength. Kara doesn't so much as wobble, and her sister releases her with a huff. “Fine. But for the love of God, change your clothes before you start shouting about your wife again,” she pants, red-faced and sweating as she collapses into a nearby chair. “That was my last NDA.”

That's a compromise she can make. Kara accepts the bundle of clothes Nia presents her with, stripping out of her dirt-caked suit and re-donning her glasses. Thankfully, the only person around to witness Kara entering the bathroom as a superhero and re-emerging as a Catco reporter is Rosemary.  

The updates on Lena's condition are sporadic at best. By the time the first surgeon emerges to say the bullet has been removed from Lena's chest cavity Kara's accidentally cracked three plastic chairs, advanced all the way to Lollipop Land on Alex's Candy Crush, and worn a groove into the waiting room linoleum with her nervous pacing.

When another doctor emerges three hours later to tell them Lena had developed a tension pneumothorax and needs additional treatment, Kara's made it to Rainbow Reef and chewed her bottom lip bloody.

When, at five in the morning, yet another doctor appears to inform them that Lena is being placed on anti-radiation medication to counter the Kryptonite that had coated the bullet, Kara's finished all nine thousand nine hundred and thirty-five levels of the damn game. The doctor leaves, promising to be back with more news soon, and Kara squeezes her sister's hand so hard poor Nurse Rosemary has to be called to administer an ice pack for the bruising, solar flare be damned.

Dawn breaks to find Kara scratchy-eyed and grumpy, worn ragged with worry. The waiting room begins to fill up around them, new patients and their relatives coming and going, and still there's nothing new on Lena. Every time another scrub-clad surgeon pushes through the doors Kara's heart skips a beat, all of them sitting up straighter in their seats, but every time the doctor passes them by.

Kara's just wolfed down six cold breakfast sandwiches procured by Brainy on his sojourn to the hospital cafeteria and is debating the relative merits of starting Candy Crush over from scratch when another young doctor appears. Her scrub cap has avocados on it. Kara likes her already.

“Family of Ms Luthor?” she calls, looking around, and Kara pushes up hard from her chair to the resounding snap of cracking plastic. Whoops.

“It's Luthor-Danvers,” she gabbles as she bounds over to the surgeon, palms sweating. No matter how many times she hears it, it never loses its thrill. “I'm, I'm her wife.”

The young doctor's features soften. “Of course. I've come to let you know that it looks like Ms Luthor-Danvers is out of the woods. She's sedated and still on an anti-radiation drip, but she's through the worst of it.” She appraises Kara, gaze lingering on her chewed-raw lips and clenching fingers, then leans closer conspiratorially. “It's not general visiting hours yet, but you can see her, if you'd like.”

“Yes!” Kara's shouting almost before the surgeon has finished speaking. “Yes, please, yes.”

She hugs them all, Alex and Brainy and Nia and Kelly and J’onn, and leaves them in the waiting room as she follows the doctor's sunshine-yellow crocs down the hall.

They round corner after corner, an interminable maze. Powerless as she is, she can't hear Lena’s heartbeat, and the absence of the steady beat that has become the soundtrack to her existence sets her even more on edge.  

But at last they turn a corner, and there she is. She's pale and bandaged and her eyes are closed, creamy skin streaked with dirt and bruises, but she's there, she's alive, she's Lena.  

The surgeon holds the door open for her with a smile and Kara's across the room in a heartbeat, smoothing a hand over Lena's warm cheek and pressing kiss after kiss to her forehead and hair.  

“I love you, I love you,” she whisper-cries against Lena's temple, tucking her matted curls behind her ears. The smell of blood and dirt and antiseptic is almost overwhelming, but beneath the dust and debris caught up in her hair Lena's scalp smells the same as always. Kara presses her face to the crown of her head and inhales deeply, soaking it in.  

“Why'd you have to be so damn brave?” she whispers, nuzzling her cheek against silky softness. “I love you so much. Please don't step in front of any more bullets. Please learn to be a coward, occasionally.”

The singular relief of having Lena living and breathing and in her arms again is so complete, so compounded by the fear and the adrenaline and the sleepless night and the solar flare, that she feels suddenly that she may crumple to the ground from the force of it all.

Unwilling to relinquish her hold for even a second she appraises the bandages covering Lena's right side, then crawls onto the hospital bed on her left, careful to avoid her many wires and monitors. She tucks herself in beside her on the wide mattress, chin hooked over Lena's shoulder and face pressed to the side of her neck, and lets the tears that haven't really stopped falling since that bullet had left its chamber fall for just a little longer.

Nothing matters outside of the two of them, outside of the warmth of Lena's body and the softness of her skin beneath Kara's lips and the steady thud of her heart beneath Kara's palm. Nothing else in the world exists, so when an unfamiliar male voice sounds from the doorway it takes her a moment to register the intrusion.

“Excuse me, ma’am, you really can't be on the bed with her,” the strange, disembodied voice calls from behind her and Kara frowns tiredly, unable and unwilling to acknowledge anything outside of the woman in her arms.

But before she's even managed to raise her head another voice sounds, the soft tones of a young surgeon in an avocado scrub cap.  

“Oh, honestly, Peter,” the kindly doctor says with gentle reproach, a quiet calm washing over the room as the door is pulled closed and she and Lena are left alone. “Leave them be. That's her wife.”

[inktae]

it's been so long, but i used to talk to you as an anon called "titania". anyway, something randomly made me think of you and how much i used to enjoy your stories (i'm probably rereading some of them soon) and i just wanna say that i hope you're happy. :)

Hello there!!! 

Soooo, yeah…. probably very surprising I’m showing up around here what, 3-4 years later!? Whoops 😅 really sorry about that guys.

But I don’t know… recently I’ve been thinking a lot of tumblr, and all the good memories I have from this place. Something just compelled me to come here today, and seeing all of the recent messages (yours included, Titania ❤️) of people that still remember me, after all this time, warms my heart and makes me tear up. It’s honestly amazing that the impact my stories had all those years ago is still present and fresh to some people. It makes me feel genuinely happy!! 

I thought I owed you guys a quick update on my life and how I’ve been doing, and hey, if you also want to chat and/or just send me a message, it’s absolutely welcome :) 

So… where to start!? A lot has changed since I was active in here, it’s been so long (can’t believe I’m almost 30 years old :D). I remember the years I was a BTS fanfic writer as a turbulent time in my past, which I don’t think I ever truly showed on here. Writing was an escape, and writing angst was my way of dealing with emotions I didn’t know how to manage (now I do, yay therapy). It’s probably the reason why I was so good at it — all of that sadness was inside myself and it was the only way I could let it out.

I don’t write anymore, haven’t had for a while (probably a couple years), but it’s something I want to go back to eventually. I suppose it’s hard to find motivation when it’s not an escape anymore, and it was more of a tool I needed to survive back then. Now that life is much better, it’s hard to find a reason to sit down and write for hours, getting lost in fantasy worlds. But hopefully I’ll find it sooner or later — it’s definitely a skill I don’t want to abandon. Just need to get into a new kind of mindset, I guess :)

So, as for life updates… like I said, a lot has changed! I believe I was still living with my parents when I was last active here (2018). A few months after that I moved out, became independent, and quickly realized how toxic my family life was. I obtained a new kind of freedom and learnt more about myself than I ever had in the past. Leaving my parents and lowering contact with them definitely changed me for the better, which I believe is why I stopped needing to write so much. 

I lived with three roommates for a while, which wasn’t smooth sailing... I didn’t connect with them in any way, and I was still learning how to live on my own, which came with its own problems and unfortunately provoked lots of fights amongst us ^^’ so that was definitely a learning period heh. I left after a year to live with another friend, which went WAY better, and then, as life would have it, I met a very cute, incredible boy who is still my partner to this day and the most important person in my life. 

We have been living together for a year and even have a dog together! a very stubborn, very rebellious but absolutely gorgeous 1 year old pup :)) honestly it’s an amazing relationship, it’s not perfect and we’ve obviously had some rocky moments, but we have healthy communication and we understand each other like no one else does. Sometimes I still have to pinch myself, because I never thought I would ever meet someone like him, someone I could connect with so deeply. We have been together for almost 2 years, and still going very strong. It's a very stable and solid relationship, we're both into therapy and communicating every issue (though I have to say he's way more emotionally mature than I am haha) which is amazing.

I’m also into spiritualism these days and spend quite a lot of time getting to know myself, learning about breaking down social constructs and inner beliefs, meditation and practicing mindfulness. It’s something I’m excited to continue exploring and it has led me to want a quieter life for myself in the future. Bf and I are actually making plans for the longterm to move far away from the city center, so we can live closer to nature and feel more connected to the earth (sounds like hippie stuff but I promise it's not lol).

To give you one last anecdote (a not so happy one) I did get covid twice and it was absolute HELL for me, even developed pneumonia which was no fun and quite scary. I hope none of you guys had to go through this and if you got covid (statistically speaking, chances are most of you did) I hope it wasn't as destructive as it was for me.

I think that's it! the important stuff, at least. Honestly, if you told me 4 years ago this was going to be my life I would have laughed in your face. I’ve come a long way (mostly thanks to therapy!!) and I have so many exciting plans for the future that I can’t wait for. :’)

So.. even though coming back here and being active as a tumblr writing is not in my plans anymore, I do remember this blog with so much fondness. It definitely saved me and protected me back then, it helped me feel less alone and played an important part in growing my confidence, mostly thanks to readers and followers like you, who cheered me on and believed in me even if you didn’t know me personally. You guys really have no idea how much you helped me.

I will read over the messages you guys have been leaving me these last few years, and like I said, if you want to chat and leave me a message you’re welcome to do so. I’m not writing fanfics anymore but I’d still be very happy to hear from you all.

If you read all of this, thank you ❤️ I wish you all well and I hope you’re all doing amazing!!

Mari