#and so i’m fond of those years lol
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i love present day natsume tumblr but i miss the mutuals lost from 2019 natsume tumblr it was fun 🫡 just thinking abt it. many of you guys are still here though which is awesome ^_^
#many are still around on tumblr with new interests and we’re no longer mutuals#but alas i miss it… still think abt them#but yeah it took over a year for me to really get involved in natsume circles but it finally happened in late 2018-9#and so i’m fond of those years lol#and the people i talked to back then
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Hmmm I think my confusion about whether or not somebody thinks of me as a friend will end the moment it’s my birthday and I see who wishes me a happy birthday
#dora daily#I have a feeling this years birthday would end with a gun in my mouth#jokes ! I don’t own one but metaphorically speaking#I think I’m going to be really disappointed because they won’t remember or say anything#ik I’m not the most fond of my birthday but all I want to see is those two words#I don’t care about the words I just want to be remembered for my own day you know#it’s the symbolic meaning that’s important to me#that perhaps I’m important enough to cross your mind even once#I wish for that a lot but it doesn’t feel like it’s something I could have#I’m so very confused#heck I don’t even like having a fuss made over me#all I want is to say happy birthday so ik you remembered and we move on#I’ll probably just sleep the whole day away then and wake up later open Genshin for the special cake thing and the hb messages from the#characters LOL I still didn’t read kavehs one I’m saving it
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snoop the fondness, cs55 x reader
part 2 part 3 part 4
masterlist
pairing: carlos sainz x driver!reader
summary: sometimes family is a boy, a girl and her snoopy plushie. sometimes appendixes and lost cars try to get between that.
format: social meadia au
a/n: the reader’s f1 team is never specified in this! so it is completely open to interpretation.

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ynraces 18h

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carlossainz55 18h

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ynraces
thats my literal baby if u even care
my babyyy my babyyy hes my babyyy say itt to himmm babyyy
carlossainz55
our baby
im his papa
ynraces
papi😈😈
liked 16h ago
ynraces

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ynraces P5 in Saudi! some great points were gained, super proud of the team this weekend, now onto Australia🇦🇺 😎.
I wish my lover boy raced 🫶💞 but as you can see he had a fight with some appendix guy(? At least he won that one
tagged carlossainz55;
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user1 omg not the drugged up pics and snoopy😭 shes not serious
user2 haha snoopy was also in carlos post with his dad so no surprised
carlossainz55 Wow I look handsome in that one
ynraces never looked better😘
landonorris Oooooh you had to take the plushie
ynraces yes but i regret it cuz he kept telling the nurses that they NEEDED to meet our baby and then I had to explain that it was actually just snoopy
landonorris I NEED THAT VIDEO HAHAHA
carlossainz55 No no those are lies
charles_leclerc No way I need the video too yn🙏 I bet he was gonna embarrass himself
ynraces check the gc
carlossainz55 You guys are the worst
user3 carlos getting appendicitis wasnt on my bingo card
user4 them having a bet going on wasnt on mine either lol they must be having a field day in that groupchat
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ynraces

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ynraces in order:
1. Snoopy triying to find my car (is in the sea somewhere idk)
2. Some guy I picked up otw (he only spoke about some surgery he had(? weird)
3. That guy winning his 3rd GP!!! (apparently hes like a driver or something, super cool!! love him and his big brown bambi eyes!!!)
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carlossainz55 Love you too❤️❤️
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user1 Did Snoopy find it?
ynraces yes and he sent it to Japan already, baby is efficient
user2 I just let out a scream of relief
user3 omg so glad youre gonna race
landonorris Don’t pick weirdos off the street🤮
ynraces ur just jealous it wasn’t you picking him up u ugly
landonorris 💔💔 Carlos say something
carlossainz55 Ay don’t be too mean to Landito
ynraces whatever you say beautiful🫡
user4 I cant wait for Japan and pray for a podium with Carlos and Yn😞 They deserve it
carlossainz55

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carlossainz55 P1 and a special thanks to the beautiful Yn, can’t imagine what recovery would have looked like without her inconditional support. I’m gutted she couldn’t race this time, but we’re coming stronger next time. Te amo, mi reina❤️
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ynraces Te amo mucho🥹❤️
carlossainz55 yo más guapísima
user1 a single post for yn, this is so cuteee
user2 this man doesnt have a contract for next year so he WILL be simping for his rival on main, ferrari be damned
scuderiaferrari 🫶🏽❤️!
user2 oh hi
charles_leclerc Wow not a single comment about Snoopy, so sad, what would Yn think
ynraces didn’t even notice😞 I let the compliments fool me
charles_leclerc You are the worst parents
carlossainz55 Snoppy got his thanks in the hospital, stop inventing!!!!
ynraces HAHAHAHAH
——
a/n: hope you liked this!! I wish I had an explanation for this plot but there is nothing, just vibes and snoopy
#f1#carlos sainz#cs55#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz x female reader#f1 smau#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#cs55 x reader#cs55 imagine#snoopycarlos
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Can you write something like reader working on a song off of hit me hard and soft with billie ? First time requesting anything so sorry if its not specific enough or something
chihiro
warnings: none, vocal anatomy talk in the context of singing (i’ve been taking vocal lessons for years hehe apologies for my slight nerding out)
pairing: singer!reader x billie
an: they’re working on that one section towards the end of the chorus, where billie specifically is in her head voice (“away from meeeeeeee” .. y’all know what i’m talking about lol)
The late afternoon sun poured into Billie’s home studio, bathing everything in a golden haze. It made the dust motes dance lazily in the air, catching on the edge of her monitor, her notepad, the well-worn wire looped around the mic stand. You sat cross-legged on the little couch pushed against the wall, half-watching Billie as she fiddled with her soundboard, half-savoring the simple beauty of being here with her.
“Okay, okay,” Billie muttered, pulling the sleeves of her hoodie over her hands as she bounced a little on her toes. Her hair was a little messy from running her fingers through it, her glasses sliding down her nose. “This line is gonna be the death of me.”
You smiled softly, watching her with fondness. She was in the thick of it—frustrated but determined—and you knew better than to jump in too soon. Instead, you waited, head tilted slightly, until she finally let out a groan and threw herself dramatically onto the rug in front of you.
“Help me,” she whined up at you.
You giggled and leaned over, offering your hand. “What exactly are you stuck on, superstar?”
Billie let you pull her upright, then pushed her glasses up and dragged you over to her desk. She pressed play, and the new track—Chihiro—floated into the room. It was dreamy and haunting, and you could hear where she wanted to take it: the verses brushed like silk, intimate and breathy, while the post chorus needed to lift—higher, lighter, almost otherworldly.
When it came to the section she was struggling with, you could hear it: her voice hesitated, dropped out, like she couldn’t quite catch the breeze she was chasing.
“I need it to feel…” Billie waved her hands in the air, searching for the right words. “Like…airy? But controlled? Like it’s barely there, but still, like, warm? I dunno. I just can’t get it to sit right.”
You listened carefully, already feeling a familiar itch in your muscles. A memory stirred—standing in your college vocal lessons, shoulders back, diaphragm lifted, reaching for those impossibly high, delicate notes. Singing like you were exhaling a secret.
You smiled, a little mischievously. “You know,” you said casually, “when I was in college, I was like strictly a soprano.”
Billie blinked at you. “Wait, seriously?”
You shrugged, pretending not to notice how her face lit up with excitement. “Strictly. Floating up into the rafters was basically my job.”
Billie looked at you like you’d just pulled a rabbit out of a hat. “Dude! Why didn’t you ever tell me that?!”
You laughed and squeezed her hand. “Guess it never came up. But…if you want, I could help you?”
Billie grabbed both your hands, her smile wide and grateful. “Are you kidding? Yes. Save me, please.”
You pulled up a second mic and moved to sit beside her at the desk, close enough that your knees touched. You asked her to sing the tricky part again, and she did, biting her lip afterward like she was bracing for criticism.
Instead, you said gently, “You’re almost there. You just need to think lighter, like…instead of pushing the note out, let it float up. Like it’s not your voice at all—it’s just your breath, carrying it. Really get that soft palette lifted so you have more room for air back there.
You demonstrated, singing the line back to her, your voice lifting so effortlessly it sounded like it was made of smoke. Billie’s mouth dropped open a little.
“Okay, wow,” she whispered.
You giggled, feeling a warm rush at the way she was looking at you, like you’d just handed her a key she didn’t know she needed.
“Now you,” you said encouragingly.
She tried again, her eyes fluttering shut, her shoulders relaxing under your hands as you placed a hand on her back keeping her sitting up, and another on the top of her neck, keeping her throat upright just like your old voice teacher would do. You watched the tension melt from her posture, saw the way the sound smoothed out into something soft and glowing. She nailed it.
When she finished, she opened her eyes and looked at you, stunned.
“Baby,” she breathed, laughing a little in disbelief. “That sounded…good, right?! That was good!”
You grinned. “It was amazing. You just needed a little soprano magic.”
Billie tackled you into a hug, burying her face into your neck. “I swear to God, you’re my lucky charm. My secret weapon.”
You wrapped your arms around her, squeezing tight. It felt so good to be able to give her this, to make her feel as incredible as she made you feel every day.
A little later, after you’d finessed the section a few more times and Billie had gotten more comfortable floating up into that high, whispery register, she spun around in her chair, grinning mischievously.
“You know…” she said slowly, “you sound really good. Like, really good.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Miss Eilish.”
She laughed, throwing her head back. “No, I’m serious. Would you—would you want to record some background harmonies? Like, super subtle? Just to layer behind me? Hidden in plain sight?”
Your heart flipped. “Me? On your album?”
Billie shrugged like it was obvious. “Duh. No one’s gonna know it’s you except me. It’ll be like our little secret.”
You beamed at her, warmth blooming in your chest so big you thought it might spill out of you. “I’d love to.”
She grinned and set up a second track, her hand brushing yours in silent thanks as she slid you the microphone.
Recording with Billie felt like magic. You matched your voice to hers, tracing the edges of her melody like you were painting in watercolor. She sat on the other side of the table, watching you with wide, shining eyes as you sang higher and softer, exactly what the song needed.
When you finished, she rushed to wrap you up in another hug, whispering into your hair, “You just made this song, like, a thousand times better.”
You tilted your head back to see her, brushing your nose against hers. “We made it better.”
She smiled at you like you hung the stars, her fingers brushing your cheek. “Thank you. For helping me. For helping me find that part of my voice.”
You cupped her jaw, feeling a giddy, dizzy happiness settle into your bones. “Always.”
Later that night, when you were curled up together on the couch, Chihiro playing softly through the speakers, Billie nudged you with her nose.
“You’re my favorite sound in the whole world,” she murmured, half-asleep, her fingers tracing lazy circles against your back.
And with your voice hidden inside her song, tucked away like a secret between the two of you, you knew you would always, always be a part of her music—and of her heart.
#gracie eilish#billie eilish#wlw#fanfiction#billie eilish x reader#billie eilish fluff#billie eilish fic#billie eilish x fem!reader#billie x you#billie eilish x female reader#billie eilish x you#billie eilish fanfiction#billie x reader#billie eilish x y/n#billie x y/n#billie x fem reader
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Strange Love | Azriel
Azriel x Green Witch | Summary: In which your daughter, Alora, nearly sends Azriel into a mini crisis when she tells you she has a boyfriend.
warnings: fluff, Az stressing out over his baby girl
word count: 2,700
a/n: This can be read as a stand alone Dad Az fic! Here we have another fic inspired by a Bob's Burgers episode lol. I also wanted to show more of older Mel since we only got a glimpse of her so far.

The house is peaceful and quiet, save for the comforting rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock. A glance at it and Azriel knows the quiet won’t last much longer. Or the peace.
He leans back into the armchair, savoring the warmth of the steaming cup of tea in his hands—a special brew you created just for him many years ago. "A one-of-a-kind brew for a one-of-a-kind male," you had said. You sit beside him on the love seat, legs criss-crossed, with a spell book hovering in front of you, green magic surrounding you. Though it doesn’t look like it, the spells in your ancient book are endless, and judging by the darkened look in your eyes, he senses you must be reading about a new one.
His attention is once more drawn away from the book in his hands as his eyes land on the portrait that hangs over the grand fireplace. It is a family portrait you had commissioned from Feyre years ago. His lips tug up into a fond smile as he remembers the day you all gathered to pose for Feyre. It was hectic and chaotic and full of promises to your daughters to get them to stay still long enough for Feyre to complete her sketch.
It was all worth it, even if it resulted in you giving in to Mel's request and brewing a laughing potion. That she then slipped into Cassian's twins's drinks during your weekly dinners, driving everyone insane...
You sat on a shorter stool than Azriel, perfectly situated between his legs. His gaze lingers on you, admiring the way Feyre captured your beauty. Your familiar, Binx, was on your lap while your pet spider, Pearl, rested on one of your shoulders.
Unfortunately, Pearl passed shortly after the portrait was completed. You preserved her web with your own magic, allowing it to stand magnificently in the corner of your living room. Melaina, your firstborn, crocheted a replica of Pearl that now rests in that web, a touching tribute to the beloved spider that had spent so many years with you. Pearl herself was laid to rest in the forest, a serene place you visit often.
A young Melaina stood on his right, holding her pet scorpion as if it were a mere pup—the only reason she smiled for the portrait. Now a teenager, it’s a miracle if she smiles that brightly, preferring to don a cool mask instead. She’s just like her father in many ways.
Alora, your second born, had just turned three at the time. She was happy to clutch onto her father’s left arm, leaning into him, with the widest of toothy grins. Both of his wings were curled protectively around his favorite girls, a genuine smile of his own gracing his face.
It is a beautiful portrait, one that captures the magic and love in his little family well.
Azriel’s shadows begin to sing excitedly, the black cat curled up by his feet, lifting its head toward the door.
The door slams open, like it does every weekday at this hour. Mel walks in first, giving both him and you a nod in greeting. There’s a spark of mischief in those hazel eyes of hers but before either of you could question it, her shadows are wrapping around her and hiding her away from view as she runs to her room, still not having mastered winnowing.
Teenagers.
Lor walks in next, hazel eyes bright and full of dreams. She’s mumbling and giggling to herself, making Azriel’s ears and shadows perk, straining to discern her words. She looks at Azriel first, then at you. “Mommy, Daddy,” she says in greeting, closing the door softly behind her and resting against it. She lets out a deep sigh.
“I’m in love.”
And there it was. That destruction of peace and quiet.
Azriel spits out his tea, choking on the curse he wanted to say but thought better against. His shadows are quick to run down his back in a soothing manner and you shoot him a look. The spellbook lands gently onto your coffee table, your full attention now on your daughter.
“That’s lovely, my pretty.” You tell her. “Who’s the lucky soul?”
“Lovely?” Azriel sputters, a small glare settling onto his features. He reluctantly accepted losing Mel to teenagehood, but Lor? Lor was eleven. She still had a year or two left. The mere thought of losing her too made his wings shudder.
“She’s just a girl!”
“She’s just a girl,” you repeat, tilting your head at him in further warning, that if Azriel wasn’t so worked up, he’d laugh at.
“I think he’s my boyfriend now. I invited him over for dinner!”
“Splendid!”
“No,” Azriel shakes his head. “Uninvite him.”
“Az, my love—“
The look he sends you has your words cutting off. You bring your hand to your mouth, covering up your grin, no doubt. There’s pure amusement dancing in your eyes. This moment was no different than the time Mel had her first crush.
Lor, oblivious or choosing to be oblivious to her father’s burning stare, runs to you with a squeal. She curls into your side and you smile fondly at her. “I’ll make your favorite tonight, my pretty,” you say, running a hand through her long hair. “Tell me all about him.”
And though Lor’s favorite was his favorite, Azriel was suddenly dreading dinner.
He lets out a huff, standing from his seat. His shadows swarmed around him, mirroring his inner turmoil. He shoots you one last look– a look of utter betrayal–before leaving the room, unable to sit there and listen to his daughter talk about how someone else was vying for his little girl’s attention.
Yet, a single shadow lingered in the living room...
**
Azriel knew this day would come, but that day was not going to be today.
It was similar to the way he felt when Mel first brought a boy home for dinner. But also different. Mel was strong-minded and had a well guarded heart. She had also been a couple of years older. Lor was naive and wore her heart on her sleeve. It was merely a week ago that she had come home crying from school because her classmate looked at her a certain way.
Love, crushes, heartbreak—they were all parts of growing up. Something you reminded Azriel as he helped you with dinner. He knew he had to let her experience them but boyfriends? Not now.
Lor was still too young. If it were up to him, there’d be a strict no boyfriend policy until both his daughters were in their second century.
Tonight, he would meet this boy, this intruder into his daughter's heart. He would be civil, for Lor's sake. Or at least try. He’d be watching the boy's every move, ready to step in at the slightest sign of trouble.
Azriel’s thoughts swirled as he chopped vegetables, his hands moving automatically while his mind wrestled with the reality of the situation. The protective father in him balked at the idea of her being hurt, her innocent heart broken by some boy who couldn’t possibly appreciate her.
A kiss on his cheek pulled him out of his thoughts, the knife in his hand coming to a stop. “You’re sulking, my love,” you said with slight humor in your tone, setting the knife down for him. You cupped his face in your hands, thumbs smoothing out the furrows of his brows. “Don’t worry, Az. She’s only eleven. I doubt this crush is anything serious.”
“But–”
“And if it is, we’ll simply have a talk with her.” You add as an afterthought, reassuring him that you were on his side.
“I love you, you know.”
You grin at him. “Well, that’s a relief. We have been mates for many years.”
**
Azriel watches with a slight frown as Lor literally buzzes with excitement, peeking through the windows of the dining room that face the street. Binx is seated on the window sill, his tail moving and reflecting his curiosity. You take the seat beside Azriel, saving the one beside Lor for your much-anticipated guest.
Mel is crouched on the floor, sprinkling a couple of crickets to feed her pet scorpion, Sprinkles. Her shadows still, wings tensing for a brief moment. She lifts her head, turning toward Lor. “He’s here,” she announces before excusing herself to wash her hands in the kitchen.
Azriel’s own shadows slither toward the door, following after Lor. He hadn’t heard the knock Mel did but he’s shifting in his seat nonetheless. Despite today being his day off, he chose to wear his fighting leathers for dinner, wanting to look every bit the menacing Spymaster he could be.
All seven of his cobalt siphons gleam proudly.
But then Lor walks into the dining room. Alone.
“Dad, Mom,” Azriel’s lips purse at the change of title, not liking the two letter drop from either of yours. She points to her side. “This is Jace.”
Azriel blinks. Once. Twice. His shadows flutter toward the spot Lor is gesturing at only to return to him with nothing. He looks at you. But you’re just as dumbfounded.
“Oh!” Lor giggles, eyes widening in realization. “I forgot to mention he’s a ghost.”
Even more confusion clouds Azriel’s features but that confusion slowly morphs into relief. He lets out a long breath—a chuckle almost. You place your hand onto his thigh, squeezing it in warning. “Just roll with it,” you murmur quietly to him, not wanting to upset Lor. The smile that forms on your face next is strained.
“Hi Jace. Have a seat please.”
Azriel says nothing, gaze narrowing at Lor. 'Jace' might be imaginary but it did little to ease his protective instincts. It was now the idea of his youngest daughter having a boyfriend that didn’t sit well with him. He has no intentions on being friendly to Jace, especially when Lor pulls back his seat for Jace to sit at.
The tension at the dining table was palpable. You were grateful when Mel returned, her presence breaking the uncomfortable silence.
But not in the way you hoped it would.
“Oh hey, Jace.” She greets casually, turning her toward his direction. There’s a gleam in her eye, as if she’s taking in the presence beside her younger sister. “Nice shirt.”
Azriel feels another squeeze on his thigh but it’s different this time and followed by an awkward clearing throat sound from you. It had him tensing underneath your touch.
Azriel’s shadows could pick up on things others couldn’t but Mel? Mel could not only do the same with her shadows but she could also see things others couldn’t. Her first friend had been a ghost–the ghost of Rhysand’s little sister.
And now, it seemed that Lor’s first boyfriend was a ghost.
**
"That's it. She's breaking up with him now," Azriel murmured, shaking his head with a resolute finality.
The two of you had excused yourselves to the kitchen shortly after finishing dinner. A dinner that barely lasted half an hour, yet felt like an eternity with Azriel burning a hole into the chair beside Lor’s with his piercing gaze. She giggled at whatever Jace supposedly said and did most of the talking for him, with Mel chiming in occasionally.
Azriel’s only comfort at the moment was that Mel remained in the dining room with Lor and Jace, knowing that if the ghost tried anything, Mel would happily take care of it. He looks at you, ready for you to disagree or offer a different solution. But you merely shake your head in agreement.
“Okay,” you breathe. “I’ll have Mel help me with a séance.”
“And I’ll talk to Lor.”
The plan was set then, the two of you walking back into the dining room. A stoic expression on Azriel’s face but a coy one on yours.
Azriel clears his throat and you give his hand a squeeze in encouragement. “Lor, can we talk?”
“But–”
“Don’t worry, sweets. Mel and I will keep Jace company.”
Lor’s hazel eyes flickered between you and Azriel. She gave a soft sigh of defeat, mumbling something to Jace as she reluctantly followed Azriel into his study a couple of doors away. You waited until they were both out of view before turning your attention to Jace.
The chair he sat in slid backwards under your scrutiny.
Something hadn’t felt right about this entire situation. You didn’t have the same gift as Mel, but years of experience had left you with keen intuition and the ability to pick up on energies. When Mel started seeing Rhysand’s little sister, you had sensed that child-like energy.
But tonight, you felt nothing of the sort.
Your eyes landed on Mel, who remained seated at the dining table. Sprinkles was on her lap, and she ran a finger down the scorpion’s spine as she looked back at you. You raised an eyebrow at her and she did the same.
When you gave her that same scrutinizing gaze you had given the so called ghost, Mel caved in.
It was then that you saw it–a single shadow revealing itself as it crept up the arm of the chair Jace was ‘sitting’ in. It tugged the chair backwards again. The corner of Mel’s lips lifted into the faintest of smirks, a small chuckle slipping from her throat.
“You made up Jace, didn’t you?”
“Maybe.” Mel replies with a shrug of her shoulders. “Maybe, I like messing with dad. Maybe, I like messing with Lor…though, Jace did make Lor the coolest girl in school today…”
**
Meanwhile, Azriel led Lor into his study, his demeanor more composed than he felt. As his shadows closed the behind them, he took a moment to gather his thoughts, trying to find the right words...
“Daddy,” Lor began hesitantly, her voice soft but curious, “how did you know you were in love with Mommy?”
Azriel was taken aback by the question, his chest tightening at the return of his usual title. He hadn’t expected such a direct inquiry, but he welcomed it. He took a deep breath, his mind drifting back to the early days with you.
By the Mother, he had been such a fool in the beginning and he probably wasn’t the best at this. Something he would tell Lor once she was older–the same way he had told Mel when she had come to him for advice on similar matters.
“Well, it wasn’t something that happened overnight. I knew your mother was someone special to me the moment I met her. But it wasn’t until I got to know her better that I fell in love. It grew from the little moments we shared and the way she understood me.”
Lor tilted her head, absorbing his words. “She told me once that you were so brave you took an arrow for her.”
Azriel chuckled, surprised that you had shared that story. He wondered how much of your story you had told her already. “I did. I’d take many more for her.”
“Wow,” Lor whispered, her hazel eyes widening with the kind of wonder and admiration he adored seeing on her.
“I’d do the same for you too.” Azriel continued, shadows sweeping over her fondly. She giggled, squirming in her seat. “I’d do anything for my girls because I love you all."
"You see, love is a deep emotion. It’s difficult to explain as everyone can experience it differently. Sometimes, it can be overwhelming and complicated. But what I can tell you is that love is not just about excitement or attraction. It’s about truly caring for someone.”
Lor listened intently and Azriel could see her processing his words, the wheels turning as she considered her own feelings. After a moment of silence, she let out a sigh. “I don’t think I’m in love then. I mean, I like Jace, but I think I like him as a friend more.”
A wave of relief washed over Azriel and he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. “You’re still growing and learning about yourself. Love will come in time, but for now, you’re too young to have a boyfriend.”
Lor nods in understanding, surprising Azriel with just how easy this conversation had been. She sunk back into the velvet armchair, a hint of concern still etched onto her face. “But I’ll find love someday, right? Like you did with mommy?”
“Someday,” Azriel smiled at Lor, reaching out to ruffle the top of her hair. “Maybe when you’re two-hundred and fifty.”
Lor gasped incredulously. “Two hundred and fifty??”
“Hey, consider yourself lucky. I was five-hundred and thirty nine when I started dating your mother.”
Lor’s jaw dropped in astonishment. A shadow gently nudged it closed. She blinked up at him, her eyes still wide.
“Jiminy crickets, you’re old!”
Azriel’s smile dropped quicker than a potion bubbling over.

a/n: I could not for the live of me come up with a better simile for that ending lol so sorry it's kind of lame. I hope I was able to convey Azriel's inner turmoil well and that you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed the idea of it.
Mel is 6 years older than Lor. I honestly don't know how aging works for fae, like what's considered age appropriate but considering Az was messing around and underwent the bloodrite in his 20s, 17 is an okay age for Mel to have, had a boyfriend? Even if Az hated that too.
series tag list:@fxckmiup, @aria-chikage
General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho
@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe
@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human, @mrsjna
#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel x y/n#azriel fanfiction#azriel fanfic#acotar imagine#acotar x reader#acotar fanfiction#azriel x witch reader#az!dandelions
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Watcher of Wanderers [Legolas/F!Reader]
A.N: this was intended just to be a mini one-shot to get back into writing. although, I will admit I got carried away. oops. heh.
Pairing: Legolas X F!Reader
Song Inspo: Mountain Meditation by Chantress Seba
🌬️ I highly recommend listening while reading
Summary: Legolas senses a presence following the fellowship on their journey and it seems to be particularly fond of him.
Disclaimer: all mythology related to the reader was made up for plot purposes lol. not canon.
Word count: 5.6k (once again, idk why I’m like this)
Warnings: comfort, fluff, loneliness, flirting, suggested sexual innuendos, stalking sort of (yes, again, I know. you’re just gonna have to read it I can’t explain it)
Additional Content: moodboard linked here
MASTERLIST | AO3 | WATTPAD
When you are nothing but a breeze that passes through the travelers’ bending hair. When you are nothing but a tickle that brushes upon the vagabonds’ breaking skin. When you are nothing but a whisper that hisses upon the wanders’ deaf ear. When you are nothing but alone, you too are a voyager.
That’s what (Y/N) was, wasn’t she?
She sailed through the years, watching every war and every battle. She observed every lover as she observed every enemy. She attended to them all, from their start and to their end. She perceived them hunt—first for food and drink, the simplest things, then for more. She witnessed them build—smaller creations in the beginning, then large structures that reached deep into her sky. She gazed at them as they grew, in mind and body. They began as little screaming balls of flesh, then sprouted into large beings that walked and talked. They produced more of themselves. They multiplied. Families, they had called it. She saw each one of them go by, twisting with desire as they did with age. Each was sneaking to find something—riches, power, hope, love, safety—but it didn’t really matter. She just bore witness. She bore witness to the happiness and to the dread. Yet, even when it was dark and desperate, she did nothing. She was silent—as she was meant to be.
Cursed to ride the winds for all of her immortal years.
Cursed to guide them and bend them.
Cursed to behold them.
Cursed to be them.
Alone.
A Watcher of Wanderers.
She was unescorted, unattended, and unchaperoned. She was unaccompanied as she wove through the desolate lands of Arda. Through the oceans, through the deserts, through the mountains, she bent and bellowed. But (Y/N) didn’t need anyone to accompany her, for she simply didn’t exist—at least not in the way one would think.
But after so long in solidarity, watching and observing, (Y/N) wondered what it would feel like to be more than what she was. She wondered what it was to taste and touch, to smell and see, to live and breath.
She thought how pain must feel. How did it bring red to the surface of their skin? How did it bring tears to their eyes? How did it bring screams to their throats?
Still, she wandered more.
She thought how laughter must feel. How did it bubble in their chests? How did it bring water to their faces? How did it bring glee from their mouths?
Still, she wandered more.
She thought about how love must feel. How did it soften their gazes? How did it bring drops upon their cheeks? How did it bring proclamations to their lips? How did it feel to welcome in another soul? Was it safe—not that she would know what safety felt like.
Still, she wandered more.
As each day passed and each traveler followed, she continued to question, guess, inquire.
Some of these creatures were more in tune with the natural currents of the word. It was the immortal beings, distinguished by the pointy ears that lent them an air of otherworldly grace and their lightning-quick reflexes. They were not just any immortals, but those whose lineages stretched back to ancestors who had walked among the Valar themselves. At times, (Y/N) entertained the fantasizing notion that they possessed the rare ability to hear her, though she recognized that this belief was nothing more than wishful thinking. As a watcher of wanderers, she liked these ones best.
Yet that did not mean that others did not catch her eye, for she was curious of anything unusual from the regular patterns of life. And when nine—born of various blood—walked together, her curiosity peaked.
So, she followed them.
One was a Maiar, but not like her. He shared the same celestial origin, shaped as one of the spirits meant to aid the Valar in their worldbuilding endeavors. However, his form differed greatly from hers—a form (Y/N) yearned for. She had seen him many times before, puffing his pipe. He had many names, but most knew him as Gandalf.
Two more figures accompanied him, mortal beings aging like the rolling seasons. Burling and tumbling they went, with their countless heavy weapons. One emanated kindness, his heart a wellspring of warmth. She had seen him before too. But the other, he was….troubled.
Another was one of the immortal, graceful, pointy-eared race—elves, she recalled. He was fluid and elegantant. He was observant and evaluating. He was tranquil yet vigorous. (Y/N) liked this one. She always had liked the elves.
From the mountainous regions of unyielding stone came another companion—a burly and gruff figure. His anger resonated in the sharpness of his words and the boastry of his laughter. (Y/N) could feel his temperament through the earth's vibrations. It wasn't always pleasant
Next, matched four more. They were stompers and stumblers, in a clumsy sort of way; yet, it was evident that they held no desire to ravage the earth. If anything, they seemed to harbor deep affection for it. The sad one broke her heart, the kind one warmed her soul, and the last two made her giggle….and sometimes she thought the elf could hear it.
See that was the thing.
Initially, her fascination led her to accompany them, drawn by their sheer otherness—such a strange assembly of beings walking in unison. But as she ventured alongside them, she felt connected to them. She got to know them, and one seemed to know her….sorta.
The first time she noticed such a thing was when a sound of joy escaped her being.
The two silly ones, which she found out to be named Merry and Pippin, were cracking jokes at one another and performing a game of riddles. As they did so, they ended up breaking into an argument. The most ridiculous words they called each other: mushroom murderer, squash squisher, beet beater…..
She couldn’t help but release a whisper of amusement, and when she did, the elf—Legolas—abruptly halted. His eyes brimmed with uncertainty, and he swiveled his head, as though searching for someone.
But he couldn’t….
No…
He couldn’t have heard her….could he?
Of course, occasionally, all could hear her. In moments of anger, she would unleash her fury with deafening howls and piercing screams, causing gusts to bellow and trees to tremble. Her yell created a hollow sound as it funneled through the rest of the world—echoing upon mountains, bouncing off houses, riding along hills, drifting through the farmer’s mills. It took much frustration to create such a ruckus of vibrations. However, just a faint breath of joy? There was no way the elf could hear that….right?
…..
The second time that a strange encounter occurred was when the group stopped by a deep river. Legolas had wandered a little way away from the group where the trees were denser and the light was less, and oh of course (Y/N) followed.
There, the elf stripped off his clothing, letting the moonlight bend and dip upon his muscled form. The cool night air played gently against his bare skin as he ventured into the water, welcoming the invigorating sensation. With his hands, he meticulously scrubbed away any lingering grime, running his palms across his arms and fingers through his damp hair until no trace of dirt remained.
Gently, he laid upon his back, floating at the surface of the smooth river.
(Y/N) watched as he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply and repeatedly. Meditation, she recalled the elvish creatures of the world calling it.
Eager to draw nearer, (Y/N) gracefully glided closer, brushing ever so lightly upon the surface of the ripples. She circled him, her gaze drinking in every detail of his form slightly obstructed by the water—his elegant facial features, his sleek hair, his sculpted biceps, his toned abs, the sharp v-line of his lower abdomen, and, she couldn't help but notice his rather large…
A soft giggle escaped her lips, her warm breath brushing against his cheek.
Instantly, Legolas sprang upright, his feet finding a place upon the rocks beneath the now turbulent ripples. He swiftly pivoted, calling out, “Who’s there?!”
(Y/N) was still, shock and uncertainty shrouding her.
Legolas' cerulean eyes darted anxiously from side to side, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He moved with haste, continually spinning around in search of…..something.
“You…you can hear me?” (Y/N) whispered.
He did not respond and his state did not change. There was not an ounce of any recognition across his features.
…..
The third time that Legolas was startled by the curious enigma that appeared to be haunting him was when the fellowship had set up camp for the night.
Gandalf and Legolas were on watch, their attentive gazes shifting from the crackling fire to the perimeters of their camp. Mithanduil contentedly puffed on his pipe, releasing wisps of smoke that ascended into the night sky. Legolas was methodically sharpening the tips of his arrows, preparing for the inevitable fight. The ambiance was strangely peaceful, with the imminent dangers appearing to be held at bay, at least for the moment, even in the face of the dread.
However, this serene atmosphere suffered a sudden intrusion, initiated by (Y/N)'s ever-present curiosity.
She loved watching the creatures of Arda. It was her favorite pastime over the eons. Well, her only pastime. After all, she was a watcher of wanderers. For, as her shapeless form, there was nothing more she could do with her existence.
Therefore, when the elf began to draw whetstone upon the tops of his arrows, (Y/N) wanted to observe. She crept closer to him, becoming entranced by the rhythmic and tranquil nature of his movements. Drawn into the spectacle, she leaned in further and further until, unintentionally, she brushed lightly against his form.
His hand instinctively reached for his shoulder as his wide cerulean blues initiated their frequent and fervent scanning of the dim surroundings—a routine that seemed to be occurring with increasing regularity nowadays.
Gandalf’s gray eyes drifted upon the elf curiously, his bushy brows lifting in questions.
“I swore…” Legolas began, still peering about the campsite. “I swore I felt…something.”
The wizard’s inquiring gaze only deepened, imploring the elf to add more to his rather empty statement.
Noticing Gandalf's unspoken request for more information, Legolas continued, "My apologies, Mithranduil. Lately, I've been sensing a presence. Yet, when I search for it, I'm met with nothing but emptiness and confusion."
Gandalf huffed before pressing his lips to his pipe again, his gaze drifting away in a dismissal of danger. “It is probably just (Y/N).”
“(Y/N)?” He questioned, still puzzled.
Gandalf glanced at Legolas, and with a nonchalant hum, he spoke again. “The spirit of the wind. A Maiar with a form that knows no shape.” He rolled his eyes as he gruffed out an additional mumbling sentence. “She has a particular fondness for elves.”
Legolas, still flushed with adrenaline, only stared at him. “I—I do not understand.”
The wizard’s gray gaze drifted back to the elf, who was clearly seeking answers. “(Y/N) is one of the Maiar, tasked many ages ago by Manwë to help shape Arda. She still lingers in this realm, often stirring up her usual mischief as she follows wanderers on their adventures."
Legolas frowned. “If she wanders this earth, why can I see her not?”
Gandalf drew another puff from his pipe before responding, "She was cursed to be without form, unlike myself."
“Cursed? But why?”
The wizard raised his bushy brows once more. “Her mischief irked many—especially Manwë.”
“What sorts of mischief do you speak of?”
Gandalf shrugged. “Inconsequential pranks and harmless tricks. Quite frankly, an annoyance to us all, but not dangerous.”
At that very moment, a gust of wind swept in rather forcefully, causing the wizard's beard to billow and lifting his hat into the air, sending it spiraling down to land by his feet.
Legolas's lips parted in surprise as the wind subsided, and Gandalf let out a string of curses and grumbles.
"I believe you might have offended her," Legolas remarked, amusement dancing in his eyes.
The wizard snorted, his irritation obvious, as he picked his hat up and placed it atop his head once more.
….
As the weeks continued on, Legolas took notice of (Y/N)’s subtle presence.
It seemed she was indeed traveling with them. On scorching hot days, a refreshing breeze would rise and caress them gently, offering some much-needed relief. As the autumn months settled in, that coolness transformed into a warm breath flowing through the air, comforting them. When they kindled fires, little gusts rushed forward, providing oxygen and nurturing the flames. If an item of clothing or a parcel were dropped, it would be delicately carried toward a hand ready to collect. It was as if the wind—(Y/N)—was assisting them along their quest.
It was particularly noticeable to Legolas that she often lingered in close proximity to him. Her presence seemed to envelop him frequently, becoming unmistakable and distinct.
When Legolas would be tasked to collect firewood, a gentle breeze would follow him. It would brush leaves out of the way to reveal dry wood and small sticks, perfect for kindling. The wind murmured songs among the soil, almost as if it were beckoning him to dance.
When Legolas would be hunting for food, a calm drift would search alongside him. It would twist through the brush, startling small prey to reveal them to him. The wind breathed wordless encouragement to him, as if challenging him to impress her.
When Legolas would be walking upon hard terrain, a playful gust would walk with him. It would blow his hair away from his face to reveal his features. The wind sent flirtatious laughter upon his elvish ear, chasing shivers along his nerves.
When Legolas would be changing out of mud or blood covered clothes, a devious wisk would linger behind him. It would push his tunic and undershirt upwards to reveal his muscled form then make his extra clothing scatter. The wind whispered sultry glee to him, teasing him in efforts to show more.
This mischievous presence that shrouded him seemed to flirt with him—challenge, play, and engage. Of course, Legolas recalled Gandalf's earlier assertion that the wind spirit held a particular fondness for elves, but the true depth of this fondness had only become apparent as her companionship persisted. He couldn't deny that their ongoing interaction held a certain allure, for he would be lying if he said their little game did not entertain him.
When the fellowship was in Moria, however, silence reigned. The usual gusts and breezes that had accompanied them were absent. It was as if the very air mourned with them. Yet, as soon as they exited, with grief heavy upon their soul, a quick adrenalized wind came to find them. It seemed to brush around the rocks, taking in the pain of the travelers and trying to process what it meant. Though, as the wind noticed one was no longer there, she took to sending warmth their way in hopes to soften the sorrow—shrouding Legolas for just a moment longer than the others.
When the fellowship was in Lothlorien, (Y/N) came too. Rustling up trouble among the elves with flirtatious gusts, lifting skirts and sweeping away cloaks, fostering much annoyance and embarrassment among the immortal elven folk. However, those brushes of wind often struck Legolas more than any other.
When the fellowship—or rather the three that remained—took to sprinting across Arda, the wind ran alongside them. It pushed them forward with encouragement, almost too eagerly and too persistent. It was as if she was whispering ‘hurry hurry’ in their ears—as if she possessed knowledge they did not. Though Legolas suspected neither Gimli nor Aragorn noticed the subtle guidance of the wind.
A watcher of wanderers indeed.
As the group arrived in Rohan, their hearts brimmed with renewed hope, for they had gained the knowledge of Merry and Pippin’s life and the presence of Gandalf.
Following Mithranduil's expulsion of the sorcery that had ensnared King Théoden, the weary travelers were ushered to various chambers where they could refresh themselves and find much-needed rest.
Legolas opted to bathe immediately, determined to liberate himself from the accumulated dirt and grime that had clung to his body through the arduous months of travel. He eased into the in-ground basin, the soothing warmth and enveloping steam creating a cocoon of comfort. He tended to his skin and hair with meticulous care until he finally felt rejuvenated. Elves did not like to linger in grime.
Emerging from the bath, he stepped into the adjacent bedroom, where his gaze was drawn to the open windows, allowing the cool breeze to waft in. The wind seemed to recognize him instantly, rushing forth with an almost mischievous enthusiasm. It nearly yanked his towel from his waist! It was only through his quick reflexes that he narrowly avoided a less than modest reveal.
Legolas ground his teeth. “(Y/N),” he mumbled in a chastising tone.
In response, the wind seemed to giggle, as if playfully toying with him.
He rewrapped the towel and hastened to close the windows, yearning for a night of undisturbed peace. Normally, he would tolerate (Y/N)'s whimsical outbursts, but on this night, his weary body and mind craved respite and tranquility.
Legolas changed into more comfortable attire and settled into his bed. He allowed his heavy eyelids to drift shut, for he craved sleep. But after a brief moment, they snapped open.
He watched as the curtains shifted ever so slightly, followed by the tapestry on the wall and the drapes above his bed. The blanket beside him rustled gently, and then, there was no movement in the room.
She hadn't left when he closed the windows.
She was still here.
Though he couldn't see her, he was acutely aware of her presence…right beside him.
The elf couldn't help but blush, a warm crimson hue creeping up upon his ears and cheeks. Oh, if his Ada knew he was flirting with the wind….
In an effort to divert his thoughts from such matters and avoid giving (Y/N) any indication that he was dwelling on them, the elf shifted onto his side, turning away from the playful Spirit whose home was the sky.
…..
Legolas took notice of (Y/N)’s presence among the battles at Helms Deep and the Fields of Pelennor; although it wasn't until the latter that he knew for sure she was actively fighting alongside him.
Amidst the relentless chaos, the elf wielded his two silver blades, using them with deadly precision to cut the throat of one orc and immediately behead another. He swiftly pressed on, eliminating as many of the enemy forces as he could.
The men around him were growing weary, their energy dwindling, but Legolas continued to stand firm, even though he too felt the drain on his strength.It seemed the dark forces had taken notice of the relentless devastation he was causing among their ranks, as they began to single him out. Hordes of orcs began converging on him, and Sauron's archers took aim. However, the arrows meant for him didn't find their mark. They veered off course, curving with an unexpected gust of wind, plunging directly into three orcs nearby.
Legolas whipped his head around in astonishment, but it took only a moment for him to grasp the source of this unexpected intervention: (Y/N).
As he continued to take down orc after orc, she remained by his side, using her ethereal presence to force the creatures back into one another, granting Legolas a distinct advantage and a brief moment to catch his breath. She deflected arrows aimed at him and extended her helping hand when he faced the Oliphaunt. She even lifted him up with a gentle drift when his footing faltered. (Y/N) followed Legolas throughout the battlefield, her commitment unwavering, even after the war had drawn to a close.
Exhausted and burdened by grief and relief, the mortal, battle-weary soldiers sought solace and took to rest, heal, and eat.
Legolas volunteered to wander the battlefield in search of any survivors.
He tread carefully, his feet moving softly over the blood-soaked and red-stained earth. The ground seemed to bear witness to the agony, uncertainty, and hope that had marked their strenuous journey. Legolas had never anticipated surviving the trials that had befallen him, yet here he stood, alive and persevering against all odds.
With a heavy heart and the absence of survivors to be found, Legolas, fatigued and drained, decided to make his way back to his comrades who were attending to the wounded and offering peace to those in need.
In a sudden fierce gust of wind, Legolas found himself surrounded by an unexpected swirl. Swiftly, he whirled around, his keen elven senses alert, just in time to witness an orc raising an axe menacingly above his head, poised to strike.
However, Legolas was not met with such a gruesome fate. The wind seemed to rise against the approaching beast, as though an invisible force hindered its advance. However, that force began to no longer be invisible. A strange, translucent figure began to materialize into the opaque form of a woman. She stood, her back pressed against his chest and her front pushing firmly against the would-be assailant. With her arms raised high, she held the axe at bay, preventing the deadly blow from falling upon the elf.
Legolas' lips parted in astonishment, his eyes widening as he struggled to comprehend the event unfolding before him. But everything transpired too swiftly for him to intervene. The figure solidified, to the point that he could feel her against him, and the axe came down at an unusual angle, slicing into the woman's side.
A cry escaped her throat, and she collapsed to the ground, her pain echoing through the air.
Suddenly thrust back into the harsh reality of battle, Legolas swiftly grasped the knife strapped to his belt. In one fluid motion, he drove the blade into the orc's heart. The creature gurgled for a moment, blood pooling from its mouth, before finally collapsing lifeless.
Without hesitation, Legolas fell to the unconscious woman crumpled at his feet. His heart clenched with dread as he noticed the crimson stains spreading across the delicate, iridescent fabric that cloaked his form.
"No, no, no," he murmured, his hands pressing against the wound in a frantic attempt to stop the bleeding. Panic tinged his voice as he glanced at her face, his voice rising in desperation, " (Y/N), you foolish Maiar. Why did you intervene? Why did you put yourself in harm's way?" His bloodied hand gently cupped her cheek. "Wake up. Come on, wake up!"
She remained unresponsive.
Swiftly, Legolas gathered her into his arms, keeping one hand pressed against the bleeding wound, and hurried towards the makeshift infirmary.
Pushing the doors open, he called out in a voice laced with fear, "Aragorn!"
Immediately, the urgent tone drew the attention of those nearby, even in the midst of the ongoing chaos of the healing ward. The Ranger, alerted by the distress in his friend's voice, swiftly moved past the curious onlookers, with Gimli at his side and Gandalf following not too far behind.
“A-an ax to the side. She’s bleeding heavily,” he sputtered out. “Please.”
Pointing to a makeshift bed, Aragorn commanded. ‘Get her on that cot! Quickly now.”
Gimili, entirely bewildered by the unfolding events and his friend’s frantic behavior, called out, “Laddie, who is that?!”
Legolas, gently placing her form on the cot, didn't even bother to look at his dwarf companion as he replied. “(Y/N).”
The dwarf shook his head and raised his hands in confusion. “Who the fuck is (Y/N)?!”
The elf sent Gimli a quick, almost exasperated glance. "The wind!" he snapped back, a bit too sharply.
Gimli’s eyes drifted around the room, his confusion turning into concern for his friend’s well being. “The wind?” he questioned. “Did ya happen to get knocked in the head, tree boy?”
It was Gandalf that chimed in. “(Y/N), a Maiar, the spirit of the wind. She has been with us throughout our journey.”
Aragorn shot the wizard a brief look as he swiftly cut away the mysterious, translucent fabric cloaking the woman and began tending to the deep, bleeding wound.
“With us the entire time?!” Gimli bellowed. “Then why haven't I seen her once?"
Gandalf peered over Aragorn’s shoulder. “She doesn't have a corporal form. At least, she didn’t. I’m afraid this is the first time any of us are seeing her.”
Legolas ran his bloodied hands through his hair, his fingers trembling with anxiety as he stepped back. His chest felt constricted with worry while his eyes remained fixated on the woman as Aragorn worked. “Can you do it, Aragorn? Can you save her?” he implored, his voice quivering with a mixture of desperation and hope.
The man met Legolas' gaze. His determination to save her was unwavering, even in the face of this strange reveal of a profound connection between a force he didn't know existed and his dear friend. Seeing Legolas’ pain, he responded firmly, "I will try."
Gimli, moving to stand beside the wizard, watched the scene with a mixture of concern and curiosity. He couldn't help but murmur, "I've never seen him so frazzled before." His words were filled with a deep sense of empathy for his elven friend, for this had clearly shaken Legolas to his core.
Gandalf let his gaze shift from the elf to Gimli, offering the dwarf a knowing look in response.
The watcher of wanderers had now become a wonder to the wanderers themselves.
……
Legolas sat in a chair beside (Y/N). He was quiet and still as he watched her chest rise and fall steadily. Aragorn had successfully treated her wound, preventing infection, though she remained unconscious. She rested soundlessly, her expression peaceful—despite Legolas’ bloody handprint, now brown, dried, and cracking, that lingered upon her cheek. Her features were graceful and elegant. Each curve and bend of her face accentuated her beauty. He wasn't sure what he had expected her to look like, though how she appeared made sense with her temperament. He could see her flirtatious streak, her mischievous tone, and her protective aurora. She was exactly what wind would be: strong yet gentle, fierce yet calm, emotional yet stern.
He watched over her, just as she had watched over him. So intently, that he didn't notice one behind him until a hand pressed firmly upon his shoulder.
"Legolas," Aragorn began, his expression filled with gentle concern as he inquired, "How do you know this woman?"
Legolas sighed, keeping his gaze on her. "She has been traveling with us," he explained.
The sound of wood scraping against stone told the elf that the Ranger pulled a nearby chair over to sit next to him.
“So Gandalf said. Though I do not understand,” Aragorn admitted.
Legolas shifted. “I started to notice strange occurrences—unexplained events.”
Aragorn raised a brow, “Strange occurrences?”
Legolas felt his cheeks heat as he cleared his throat. “Yes, yes, but more importantly, I noticed something helping us. Consistently.” He paused, “I asked Mithranduil about it and he told me of her.” He shook his head. “He said she was cursed to watch us—us inhabitants of Arda—and not be able to walk among us.”
“Then how is she here now before us, like this.”
Legolas glanced at his hands, a hint of nervousness in his expression. “I asked Mithranduil that too,” he admitted. “He said her sacrifice must have ended her limbo.” He then let his eyes land on his friend and he spoke once more, his tone almost fearful and definitely shy—something Aragorn had never seen from the elf. “If she doesn't survive, because of me, will Arda have wind no longer? I haven't felt a single breeze since she fell.”
Aragorn sighed. “I do not know, my friend. I do not know.” He reached forward and placed his hand upon his shoulder. “Please go clean up and rest. You are no good to her like this. I will take care of her, I promise.”
Legolas hesitated, “But what if she wakes?”
The Ranger sighed again, “If she wakes, I will send someone to—”
He was interrupted by a soft groan escaping from the lips of the Wind Spirit.
Instantly, both Legolas and Aragorn turned to look at the woman.
Her eyelids lazily blinked open, and she gradually became aware of her surroundings. A frown creased her face as she emitted another groan. Her hand moved slowly, making its way down to her bandaged side.
"What... what is this feeling?" she murmured to herself, puzzled by the sensations.
To her astonishment, Legolas responded, “Pain.”
She scrambled to sit upright in bed, the pain surging through her body but the sheer force of adrenaline propelled her actions. “You–you can hear me?” she whispered, eyes wide.
Legolas moved closer, taking a seat on the edge of the cot. In a gentle tone, he answered, "I can hear you. I can see you." He tenderly raised his hand to her cheek, resting it on the dried bloody mark already there. "And I can feel you."
A hushed gasp escaped her lips as she reached up to touch his hand. "It's... it's warm," she remarked, her voice filled with surprise. "I didn't expect it to be warm."
The elf smiled gently in response.
A mischievous smirk then graced her lips, and her gaze, rather unmistakably, wandered down his figure and briefly settled upon his pants. “Is everything this warm?” she inquired with a teasing tone.
Taken aback by her words and her brazen gaze, he cleared his throat. A noticeable flush crept across his cheeks and ears as he broke eye contact. With that, Legolas turned to face Aragorn, who stood behind him with raised eyebrows and a playful grin forming at the corner of his mouth. “My apologies, Aragorn.” He glanced back at the Wind Spirit. “(Y/N), this is—”
She interrupted him, her eyes on the other man. “I know who he is,” she said with confidence. “Aragorn, son of Arathorn the second, also called Strider or Wingfoot, Chieftain of the Dúnedain, and the Uncrowned King of Gondor.”
The expressions on both men's faces contorted, morphing to sheer astonishment—how did she know all that?
(Y/N) grinned sheepishly. "I am the wind," she confessed. "I see and hear a great deal."
…..
The Minas Tirith Castle was cloaked in the deep shroud of a late moonlit night as Legolas walked through its ancient halls. The soft flickering of torchlight painted wavering shadows on the weathered stone walls, lending an atmosphere that resonated with the weight of its history. His footsteps were silent as he moved, and his thoughts followed suit, meandering through the corridors of his mind.
However, up ahead, a figure bathed in a gentle glow caused Legolas to abruptly halt in his tracks, his thoughts instantly converging on the woman.
“(Y/N),” he called out, approaching her. “What are you doing away from the House of Healing? You shouldn't be out of bed. You should be resting!”
She let out an exasperated sigh, not appreciating his chastising tone. "I am a watcher of wanderers, Legolas. Therefore, I too am a voyager. It is not in my nature to stay still."
Legolas released a heated breath through his nose. “That may be true, but you now have a corporal form. No longer are you just a breeze.”
She rolled her eyes, shifting her feet to hide the persistent pain emanating from her side. “I may not be a breeze any longer, but I still control all the winds of Arda. I could knock you on your ass in seconds, injured or not.”
Legolas chuckled lightly. “I never would have gotten involved with the wind if I knew she was so temperamental,” he teased.
(Y/N), suppressing a grin, responded with a snarky retort. “Oh, so we are involved, are we?”
The elf sent her a look, trying to hide his expression of amusement. “I would be naive to think that all the times the wind flirted with me, it was just a ploy.”
“Maybe I enjoy a ploy from century to century, Legolas,” she replied.
He laughed lightly at her jest, then took a step closer, his demeanor shifting to one of seriousness. Gently, he pressed his hand to her bandaged side. “(Y/N),” he began softly. “Why did you do it? Why did you get in between that orc and I?”
She looked up at him, her eyes gleaming with sincerity. “You know why.”
“Say it,” he commanded.
“Because,” she began, her tone becoming shy and soft. “Because, I—I love you.”
Instantly, Legolas wrapped his arm around her back, pulling her close to him. He pressed his lips fervently against hers. As their mouths met with equal intensity, he tasted the essence of the wind. And oh, it tasted of adventure, suffering, and joy. It tasted of warm bread from the north, bitter nuts from the east, clear water from the south, and fresh fruit from the west. It tasted of eons and eons of wandering, yet still, she tasted of home. Her hands found their way into his golden locks of hair, twisting and tugging it lightly. He allowed her to siphon off his heat, for the wind was often cold and bellowing. Though, he could tell she was taking more than just his warmth—she was taking his love; and oh, he gladly gave it to her.
…..

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The Right Decision || ART DONALDSON



﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
pairing: art donaldson x fem!reader
summary: you’ve come to a big scary decision but it’s okay because Art supports you. no matter what.
tags: married art, working mom female reader, they have kids, basically the conversation that tashi should’ve had with art when he wanted to retire lol
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“I have to tell you something but I don’t want you to get upset. Just listen.”
Art looks away from the tv, his mouth falling automatically into a frown. You stand next to the couch, your fingers fidgeting with your wedding ring. A habit you picked up on when you first got engaged.
“I might cry,” you warn, already feeling the tears sting the edge of your eyes. “But it’s not because I am sad or anything. I just have anxiety.”
His frown deepens and he instantly turns off the television, giving you his full attention. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
With a heavy sigh, you drop down onto the couch next to him. “I’m struggling at work,” you admit, the embarrassment creeping behind your neck like a tick. “I can’t do it anymore. The demand, the constant traveling. It’s keeping me away from you and the boys. I hate it.”
Art scoots closer to you, his strong arm wrapping around your shoulders. “Yeah,” he says softly. “We hate being away from you too.”
“I want to be home,” you say, turning your head to look at him. “I want to be here for them. I feel like I’m missing out in everything. I want to be a good wife and a good mom. I want to cook dinner and help with homework. I want to clean—god I miss cleaning.”
Art chuckles quietly, pushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Baby, I-“
You cut him off because you already know what he was going to say. That you should’ve quit that job the moment you found out you were pregnant. But you weren’t a quitter, you saw things through to the end but this… this was just too much.
“Yes, I know,” you say quickly. “I should’ve quit years ago but I just didn’t want to take advantage of you. You trained so hard to be where you are. I’m not entitled to it just because I’m your wife.”
You could feel Art tense beside you, he couldn’t understand how you could think that. With a gentle touch, his fingers grab your chin, forcing you to stare into those ocean eye that made you weak.
“You are the mother of my children and the love of my life,” he firmly states. “You are entitled to every part of me. You took care of me, held it down for us when I first turned pro. Let me take care of you.”
Cue the waterworks. You always told him that if the tennis thing didn’t work out, he could look into being a writer. The sincerity in his voice, the love in his eyes, the kindness of his touch really made you fall in love all over again.
“We have more money than we know what to do with. If it quitting your job brings you peace, then do it. Be a stay-at-home mom or get another job if it’s what you really want. And please, cook for us again, I don’t think I can keep eating dino nuggets.”
A watery laugh escapes your lips as you grab the bag of his neck, pulling him closer. “Thank you,” you whisper before pressing your lips to his. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
The sounds of tiny footsteps, thundering down the hallway capture both of your attentions. Your twin boys, Jackson and Eli, burst into the living room.
They are the perfect mixture of you and Art. Their blonde curly locks, your skin tone, his stunning blue eyes and your nose. You couldn’t help but to stare of them in slight awe, eternally grateful to be able to be their mom.
“Mama, look!” Eli exclaimed, climbing up onto your lap. “I drew a dino.”
You took the paper in your hand, gasping dramatically. “Wow, this looks so good bear.”
Jackson, the more reserved of the too, quietly climbed onto Art’s lap. He snuggled into his chest. “I drew something too,” he says, handing a paper to Art.
Art shows you the paper with a fond smile. “Wow, buddy. Is that our family?”
He nods, a small smile on his face. “Yeah, you, me, mama and Eli.”
Your heart swelled at the picture perfect moment. Sitting there basking in the love of your family you realized the decision you had to make. It wasn’t a hard one at all.
“I have some great news,” you say as the four of you cuddle closer. “Mama is going to be home all the time now.”
Eli jumps excited on your lap, his eyes wide and curious. “No more trips?”
“No more trips,” you confirm, ruffling his hair.
Jackson lifts his head from Art’s chest. “Really?”
Art smiles, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Really,” he confirms. “Mommy is ours now!”
The boys cheer, jumping from the couch and pulling your hand. Both of them babbling excitedly about playing and painting and snacks. You turned to look at Art, smiling widely.
“Thank you,” you say, tears threatening to fall again.
He smiles, tilting his head. “No, thank you.”
#married art donaldson#art donaldson drabble#art donaldson oneshot#art donaldson x female reader#art donaldson fanfiction#art donaldson fluff#art donaldson x reader#mikefaist x reader#mike faist fanfic
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Hiii, can i request a scenario on how naoya (when he has reached a point where he loves wife!reader from an arranged marriage) would react to one day not being greeted at all when he comes home? It is completely silent, no response as he calls for her and is getting a bit worried as he starts searching the rooms. But then he sees her laying on the couch, shivering and sweating from a cold that’s so intense she’s barely lucid and can’t even tell he’s there and talking to her
Heya!!
So... I took some liberties when writing this, kind of went a completely different route (the sick part, alongside worried Naoya still remains though), it just occurred to me when reading your ask, but I hope it's still of your liking 🥺!!!
anyways, here are the warnings: mentions of death, miscarriage, a very concerned and overprotective Naoya, a bit of fluff, and everyone wants to spoil you rotten lol.
And without further ado, happy reading!
“Y/N, I’m home!”
Home.
A word he never really cared for, always considering it sappy, alongside the fondness that was usually assigned to it, which Naoya couldn’t think of as nothing but ridiculous, if not hilariously overrated.
For many years, Naoya thought that a home was simply the place that one was raised in and that’s about it. Nothing of the sentimentality others liked to apply to it, brag about it…
Until, of course, he finally came to understand what the word meant; why it was so special, and why it was important to have one.
A home wasn’t made by the people he knew as family, blood related, found in the place he was forced to be in since he was born, and probably die in—no; it’s the one that was made by the people of his choice, people he met through his course of life, connected with, and now, cherished.
Amongst them, you.
He considered himself lucky to have found the love of his life, a concept he considered so… foreign, impossible for someone like him, if not a stupidity of delusional people desiring more from life.
So was Naoya destined to think for the rest of his existence, condemned by his same family to live a life of loneliness, hatred, and die the same way.
But you’d come to show him otherwise, shockingly, and unexpectedly, and in such a way he couldn’t even put up a fight, completely surrendering to you and the wonderful feelings that being in love with you provided.
Now that he’s experienced them, he couldn’t find the reason as to why his family would ever reproach such beautiful thing as harshly as they did—or that he believed them in the first place…
Well, that’s not something that bothers him anymore; the Zen’in clan could continue on in their hard stuck ways for all he cared; he, on the other hand, plans to spend the rest of his days alongside the woman of his dreams, starting by today, finally back in your arms after days of being pulled into pointless missions after pointless missions, which he would not hear of for a few weeks—having earned a well-deserved break for his consistently good performance.
Naoya even prepared accordingly for the occasion, having bought gifts from all the places he’d been to, as well as ideated ways to distract you from the boring estate and his nagging relatives he knows you don’t enjoy being around with, only tolerating them because they were, well, your in-laws, his family—with exceptions of those you do get along, and for them, he’s grateful that they do.
Ah, he couldn’t wait to see you, your face, and the adorable way it brightens up whenever receiving him.
To tell you of his day while resting his head on your lap, with you passing your fingers through his hair, gently soothing his stresses away as you reassure him that he’s the best sorcerer out there, he’s just… unlucky to bump into lesser talented ones.
Get something to eat too, he’d like his favorite for a start, miso soup—and perhaps have you feed it to him? God, it’s been a while since both have done that, and it’s not because he doesn’t like doing it, or you for that matter, but rather, he doesn’t want to risk being seen by others, it has to be in the utmost privacy, after all! He isn’t to be vulnerable in front of his family!!
Oh, he needs wishes to see you—right now. And he’s absolutely sure you’re feeling the same way…
If so… why hadn’t you responded? Why hadn’t you come to receive him in the same manner you’ve always done?
Naoya knows that his schedule can be a bit… unpredictable, making it difficult for you to know exactly when he’ll come back home—but even then, it didn’t take you that long to meet him after announcing his return.
You’d always come to the entrance, no matter if it happened right that moment, or a bit later; you just… did.
But today… it seems that you opted to break the routine by taking far longer than you usually do.
He’d remain attentive to his surroundings, hoping to either hear your approaching footsteps or voice softly calling for him at a distance, yet as time went on, he was received with neither…. And Naoya only begins to grow more worried.
Your husband tries to not jump to the worst conclusion just yet, opting to think that you were perhaps simply caught up tending to the house, maybe even partaking in an unwanted conversation with one of his relatives and having trouble brushing them off—for no matter the times you’d reminded them that your husband was back, and you needed to be there to receive him, still acted as if it wasn’t that important.
Things that implied that even when running late, you were still ok.
Yet…
“Y/N!” Naoya calls once again, hoping for a change…
…
…
…
Silence.
It’s by this time that he decides it’s better to search for you than to stand around and wait for you to magically appear.
Naoya begins by going into the main wing, eyes scanning through the gardens, your usual place of leisure when not busy, where you’d calmly enjoy the diligently tended for flowers (the ones he had changed to your favorite as soon as he found out which ones they were) while snacking on something, or in the company of your loyal staff—if that were the case of your absence, he understood why you didn’t answer.
But he wouldn’t find you near any of the gardens, or anywhere in fact! A statement that weighed even heavier upon finding out that the staff was in the same predicament as him, for when he asked a nearby servant of your whereabouts, he was received with the following answer:
“We haven’t seen her” Naoya’s heart sinks.
“What do you mean you haven’t seen her?” he breathes. “Where could my wife—did she—did she leave the estate?”
No. You… didn’t. Because that’s not what you told him you’d be doing a few hours ago, after letting you know he was on his way back home; if anything, you replied with how excited you were to see him again and that you’d be eagerly waiting for him!
So obviously, their words didn’t make sense. But if so… where were you?
Naoya now frantically searched for you through every wing, room, space, chamber, closet, just— anywhere, literally anywhere you could be while repeatedly calling out your name in hopes of getting a response, or even a glimpse of you; he doesn’t care what at that point, he’s happy with either!
Yet, the longer he went on without an answer, the bigger his sorrow became, to the point where his mind was machinating nothing but the worst-case scenarios, slowly losing his inhibitions as he repeatedly wondered Where were you? How come no one has seen you? Did he have to escalate this situation?
Just—Where are you, Y/N?!
Thankfully, there would be no need to pursue bigger solutions for he’d get his answer soon enough after entering the east wing, passing through the living quarters, and arriving to the laundry room, one of the last places he’d thought you’d be—rightfully guessing so, for you were there, apparently washing whatever garments you had pending, which you hadn’t been able to wash due to a variety of unknown reasons…
But far from feeling elated to have found you, Naoya felt as if whatever he had left of his heart was effectively broken, which felt short compared to the way he found you.
“Y/N!”
The sight that received him is one that will remain imprinted in the back of mind: you were laying on the floor, on your side, tightly clutching to your stomach as you breathed heavily, eyes tightly shut while groaning in what Naoya could only interpret as pain.
As if his worries weren’t through the roof at that point, this last conclusion is what urged Naoya to hastily make way to your side, swiftly kneeling to your level as he calls out for you once more.
“Y/N—Y/N” He’d breathe, firmly yet carefully placing his hands over you with intentions of picking you up, but his hold falters when his fingers briefly graze your skin, making him gasp in return. “Y/N you’re—you’re burning!”
This would be the only time you’d respond to him, barely able to move your head onto his direction, slightly opening your eyes to see him, a gaze that shows how much pain you were going through, barely able to understand what was going on, except for gently breathing the word that makes his heart squeeze out in pain.
“Na—Naoya…”
Any hesitation is effectively thrown out the window by that point, picking you up and rushing you towards their shared bedroom, all while barking orders to the nearby staff, demanding them to call for a doctor, as quickly as possible, unless they wanted to be jobless by the end of the day!
The staff reacts accordingly, and a few minutes later, the family doctor arrives to the estate, guided to your room and seeing that you were already being tended to, or at least that’s the idea he gets from the dampened towel on your forehead, undoubtedly in efforts of lowering your fever—which unfortunately, had been for nothing.
Well, he was there now, and he didn’t waste time either to get to work, quickly assessing your condition by the apparent symptoms, starting by your temperature, the color of your skin, and even the way you reacted to him while doing so, completely uncooperative—apparently, whatever put you in this state had evoked great instability from you, thus the doctor found it necessary to put you under sedatives.
But even when he was able to quickly gain control of the situation, the doctor still couldn’t arrive at a proper conclusion, less when the people around you had an even smaller idea of what struck you.
“I—I don’t know.” Naoya would respond, angrily, frustrated—and rightfully so. How come none of the servants had noticed your absence? Or worse, hadn’t seen anything that could hint as to what your sickness was about?! “Can’t you just—help her?!”
“That’s what I’m trying—I can’t help her if I don’t know what I’m dealing with.” The doctor responded as calmly as he could, but even he had to admit that everyone’s seeming ignorance annoyed him as well. “But I can still say that this seems much more than just a simple… sickness.”
“What do you mean?” Naoya frowns, the doctor looks at the nearby servants, tasked to be on stand-by if needed.
“I’d like to discuss this in private.” He tells them.
The servants don’t wait for Naoya to repeat the order before they’re already out the room and away from their earshot; a request that while didn’t raise any concerns from Naoya —if anything, he was glad their pesky, useless presence, was finally away from you— the doctor’s face was quick to convince your husband that something far worse than what met the eye.
And this made Naoya’s nerves reach a new limit.
“I told you; I don’t know what happened—” Your husband is quick to defend, believing the doctor was to interrogate him once more, only to be interrupted.
“You don’t need to tell me for me to know what happened.” He interjects, Naoya’s eyes widen.
“I’m lost.” Naoya scowls. “Stop talking cryptically and get on with it!”
“I’ve seen these symptoms before, Naoya. And as I said, these are not from a simple sickness, an allergy or any of the matter” He takes a deep breath. “I heavily suspect she was intoxicated—and not accidentally, but rather, intentionally.”
“Excuse me?” Naoya frowns. “I told you to stop talking in riddles, say what you—”
“Poisoned, Naoya. I believe your wife was poisoned.”
Naoya’s world comes to a screeching halt.
You…
You were poisoned.
According to the doctor, you—You were attacked, besieged, with malicious intents.
Taken advantage of in the one place you’d never be on edge, your home, the same one he had repeatedly reassured your father that you’d be safe in—the Zen’in estate, home to the prestigious Zen’in clan! There was no safer place in the whole world! There couldn’t!
No one— no one wouldn’t dare do such a thing here—they knew better! Naoya would force them to now better…
Yet, someone dared to commit this transgression against you.
And to make it all worse….
Almost got away with it.
Who would even think of doing such transgression against you?! You?!
You had no quarrels with anyone, and even when you did, you handled things in such an amicable way just so you’d live peacefully, free of nonsensical arguments—you had no space for them in your life!
And yet, this still happened, and right underneath his nose….
There’s no doubt that he’ll put an investigation into order to find the bastard responsible for your suffering, and once he does, he’ll make him regret his existence, to the point he’ll have him begging for mercy—and even then, it wouldn’t be enough for Naoya.
However, that is something that will have to wait until he knows you’re safe, healthier, which the doctor had slowly began to help you with by giving you something that will immediately trap the poison from being further absorbed by your blood—activated charcoal, so he remembers— as well as some other prescriptions for side effects he wishes to prevent.
“Your wife was very lucky to survive, have you waited a second more—”
“I wasn’t waiting.” Your husband immediately responds, offended by his wording. “I wasn’t aware of this until I returned.”
The doctor presses his lips together, taking notice that throughout his whole visit, Naoya has never left your side, nor freed your hands from his.
“And I’m not surprised.” He silently admits.
Naoya hates the notion the doctor was implying, that this was an inside job. But considering the odd behavior of the staff, their seeming ignorance of your location and your status… it all pointed to that same conclusion.
The boiling fury inside him grows bigger.
“How could this be?” Naoya seethes.
How could someone get this far, this close to you, and no one suspecting a thing?
Your husband might’ve reproached the way the doctor expressed himself, but there was an undeniable truth behind them; he truly was lucky to have gotten back home just when he did, for had he taken a second longer, just one, you could’ve die—
Outside of that, the second most important question regarding this whole situation was…where was your staff? Why, of all days, were they absent?
Naoya is confident that if Mariya, your closest confidant, had been around, this would’ve never happened in the first place; the moment she saw anything out of the ordinary, she would’ve pulled all the stops and acted accordingly.
Yet, she was nowhere to be seen, and this makes Naoya both highly suspicious, and furious.
Where was she? Where are the rest? Why would they leave you in your most needed time? Did they plan this? Plot against you?! Where the hell could they possibly—
“They’re going to be away for the weekend to visit their families.”
He suddenly remembers; you told him so earlier that week through a text.
“Will you be ok?” Naoya also remembers asking; he didn’t feel happy knowing you’d be alone without your most trusted staff.
“It’s just a few days, Naoya. Besides, they deserve a break! I don’t want them to get tired of me, you know?” you laugh. “But you better come back quickly, ok? Just because they’re not around doesn’t mean I like being alone…”
“I won’t take long. I promise.”
If only he’d kept his word…
Well, if that was to be the answer to their absence, then it wasn’t fair to hold any level of animosity towards them, a weight being lifted from his burdened shoulders upon realizing your staff could strill be trusted in.
Now all that was left to worry about is finding the culprit… and the status of that too.
“Is she ok?” Naoya would ask.
“She is, I managed to—”
“No, I mean… that.” Naoya’s voice hints to a silent agreement between the two. “Is… that ok?”
The doctor quickly catches what he means, affirming so by a nod. His reassurance lifts an immeasurable weight from his heart, even greater than the alleged betrayal of Mariya and the rest. One less thing to worry about.
“What now, then?”
“Since the damage was limited, to say the least, it won’t be necessary to move her to a hospital, however—”
She’s still in danger. Naoya concludes. More so if the attack came from someone inside… And what makes him think that just because he’s back they’ll stop trying?
If anything, seeing how close they got, they could try once again!
The mere thought is enough to push him into taking what is perhaps the most radical decision he could’ve taken in this situation, something that might come to torment him in the future, but until then, he won’t care, not even a bit; not when he had your safety to worry about:
That is… Naoya fired everyone, effective immediately.
He took no heed if any of them had been serving the family for years, if they were close friends of his father, or if their livelihood would be affected— Naoya just wanted them out of his sight, the estate, and as soon as possible, less they wanted to receive more of his anger, before continuing with the rest of his plan.
Due to the gravity of said situation, Naoya knew he had to contact your family; he also knew that you would’ve refuted the idea as soon as he mentioned it to you, not wanting to worry them if you’ve truly been attacked, but he couldn’t do this to your father; not when he was amongst the few people in the world he knew had your wellbeing as utmost priority— as well as holding a great amount of respect and appreciation for him, specifically for the way he welcomed him into your family.
Eiichi, your father, had to admit that getting a call from the Zen’in estate that didn’t come from you surely surprised him beyond any comprehension, and yet, that would be nothing compared to the shock he’d get upon knowing the motive behind said call; Naoya swore he almost heard your father passing out, or at least, in the process of.
“Poisoned?!” Eiichi gasped, tightly clutching onto the phone—he might’ve as well passed out and dived into a nightmare! “Is she ok?! Where is she right now?”
“At the estate, with me—the doctor didn’t think it necessary for her to be hospitalized since he was able to stop the poison from spreading any further, but she still needs rest.”
“And the baby?” the referenced secret between Naoya and the doctor; your pregnancy.
“Fine.” He breathes, swallowing. “The doctor didn’t tell me of any damage done to the baby… but I’m—I’m still taking her to the doctor, just—just to be sure.”
“How could this happen?” Eiichi laments, heart breaking not only for you, but for Naoya as well. Your father knew all too well what it was to lose the love of his life, a pain that he would never desire on anyone, not even his own enemies…
One that he could slowly begin to hear in Naoya’s voice; oh, he could only imagine the pain he was going through, or what waited for him if he had lost not only you, but his child too.
But, well, the worst is over… at least for now.
“Someone from the staff did it.” Naoya declares, Eiichi’s heart sinks even further. “But I’ve taken care of it, I’ve fired everyone.”
And your father, contrary to Naoya’s relatives, did not question him. If anything, he seconded his decision, because had he been in your husband’s shoes, he would’ve done the same thing.
“Was her staff involved?” Your father asks, feeling a slight… anger with the idea that the ones you greatly cherished could’ve plotted against you.
“No, they were not; in fact, they were out of the estate when all this went down.” Naoya responds. “But I know that if they had been here, this would’ve never happened in the first place.”
“Bring her here, with me.” Eiichi immediately suggested, Naoya blinks, startled by the idea, if not against it.
“Father—"
“We can take care of her while she’s recuperating, take her to the doctor too. I’ll make sure that she has everything she needs. And not to misjudge your staff, or lack of, but the people here would never hurt her—they’ve known her since she was a child! There won’t be another safer place for her to be than here, Naoya. At least… until she’s better.”
Previously, Naoya would’ve questioned the veracity of his words, done all he could to prove you were much better with him, but after this occurrence… he had to agree.
As much as it hurt him to know you’d be away from him, especially when you were pregnant… he knew this was the right decision to make. He couldn’t expose you to another similar situation—not even if he got a completely new staff… or if you didn’t want to leave.
So, Naoya accepts Eiichi’s suggestion, alongside buying him a ticket for the earliest available flight to Kyoto; a few hours later, your father would arrive to the estate, rushing to your side, keeping you company while tending to your every need as Naoya prepared everything for your departure.
When you eventually regained consciousness, you were (although a bit surprised) overwhelmingly elated to see your father visiting you, for it had been so long since you’d seen him, probably around the time you announced your pregnancy!
However, that excitement would soon diminish when Naoya told you why he was there… alongside the cryptic explanation of your “sickness.”
“It was an allergy.” Naoya would say, not wanting to stress you by the fact that you were intentionally poisoned, although that excuse did little to stop you from doing so. “Rare, but it can happen, especially with pregnant women.”
“An allergy…? But I didn’t…” you frown.
“It happened to your mother, once.” Eiichi followed Naoya’s lead. He hated lying to you, but… he concurred that keeping you safe, both mentally and physically, was worth doing so. “It’s nothing but hormonal changes, so don’t worry much about it.”
“I guess…” you frown, pressing your lips. “But that still doesn’t explain why I have to leave.”
“We need to check what caused your allergy” Naoya responds. “It might be something about the food, the flowers, or even the wood; I rather you be safe than to go through that scare again.”
“But is… all this really necessary?” Naoya gives you a tight smile and a nod. “Naoya, I—"
“It’s not all bad, Y/N.” Naoya says.
“Besides, don’t you want to spend time with your papa? It’s been so long since I’ve spent time with my adorable pumpkin!” Eiichi laments.
“Dad!” you gasp, flustered by his words. “Don’t—don’t say that in front of Naoya…”
“What? It’s true! And that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do since I learned I’m going to be a grandfather!”
“Stop it!” your face becomes redder. “You’re embarrassing me!”
Naoya chuckles; it’s not like he’s seen you in… worse situations. Or better?
“But… I guess a visit is overdue.” You eventually concede, Naoya and your father sigh out of relief. “Though what about Mariya, Haruko, and Hitomi?”
“They’ll go with you, if you want.” Naoya says; he doubts they’ll say no, especially after knowing of the whole fiasco that occurred when away, might even offer themselves before he suggests the idea.
“If I didn’t know any better, sounds like you want me gone.” You jest, Naoya frowns. “It’s a joke, of course…”
“There’s nothing more I would like than you staying here, but until we figure out what caused that reaction from you, I’d rather not risk it.”
“It’s only temporary, Y/N. Besides, look—I brought you gifts!” Eiichi says, taking out the bag he brought from home seemingly out of nowhere, filled with things he knew you’d love, such as sweets, your favorite mochi’s of course, alongside some plushies that would always brighten your day when you were a child. “And there’s much more back home…”
Naoya can’t help but feel relieved you had your father for support, but at the same time, a bit jealous and, well, threatened. Not for bad reasons, of course, it was simply because how the hell did he not think of bringing you gifts first?!
“Dad… you’re embarrassing me in front of Naoya.”
“Ah, that’s a parent’s bane, isn’t it? To always embarrass their children—you’ll see what I mean when you both have your baby.”
Perhaps the main reason why you ended up agreeing to leave was because your pregnancy did not seem affected by your supposed allergy; had it been you would’ve refused to leave your husband’s side!
… Well, you still would’ve refused either way, but perhaps a bit more. You hate the idea of being away from the father of your child for too long, after all.
“I don’t think so—Naoya and I are going to be the cool parents, you’ll see.”
“That’s what your mom and I thought, and look at me now, can’t even say anything without you telling me I’m embarrassing you!” Eiichi says, you chuckle.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, mom was cool! You were always the funny one!”
Naoya smiles.
Now he knows for sure that there’s no safer place for you to be in than with your family, even if that were to be on the other side of the country…
After Naoya prepared everything for your departure, the three eventually made way to the exit, where you and your father would bid their last goodbyes.
“Won’t you accompany me?” you ask, a slight pout on your face, he smiles in hopes to cheer you up, but really, he felt miserable.
“I want to, but I can’t.” He explains. “I have to deal with this as fast as possible if you’re to come back quickly.”
“… Will you visit me over there, at least?” you frown.
“Yes. As soon as I have a chance, I’ll go see you.” Naoya promises.
It had all been too soon, just a few hours ago he arrived at the estate, and now, you’re leaving. Naoya laments that he couldn’t spend a day with you before your departure… but he guesses this to be a rightful sacrifice for your well-being.
“I wouldn’t dream of keeping away from my wife and baby for too long.”
At those words, Eiichi couldn’t help but frown out of sorrow.
It wasn’t fair that neither of you had been able to enjoy this wonderful occasion as you should.
He still remembers the excitement in your voice, the glint in your eye, and the beaming smile on your lips when announcing your pregnancy—alongside the nerves that came with it, of course, which Eiichi eased by reminding you and Naoya that their enthusiasm was nothing but indicative they were already on their way of becoming the loving and supportive parents their baby needed.
But as excited as both were, Eiichi had to cruelly put a stop to their celebrations, especially after Naobito was made aware of this, who wished to proceed by announcing the news to the whole community.
“I have to disagree, Naobito.” Eiichi would be the first to reject the idea, much to everyone’s surprise—yours, specifically.
“And why is that?” He’d ask back, not understanding why the father of the expecting mother, of all people, would be the one to reject so.
“It’s best if Y/N keeps her pregnancy a secret, at least… until it’s undeniably noticeable.”
“But… why, dad?” you asked. This was a moment of absolute joy, to be treated as such! So why did he intend to keep it a secret? Was he… disappointed?
No. Never. He was nothing but happy to see you happy and become a grandfather himself for the first time in his life!
But as a man of his years, he’s learned to be cautious of how said blessings are to be celebrated, as well as seen his fair share of happiness turn sour… things that Eiichi would rather take upon him than allow them to ever befall you.
“Because there’s people out there that might try to hurt you—or the baby.” He’d explain. “Naobito cannot not deny this, but if anyone hears that you’re pregnant with the Zen’in heir’s baby, those that want to hurt the Zen’in clan, or our family, will see this as the perfect opportunity to do so.”
“I’d never allow such thing, rest assured, there’s no safer place than—” Naoya quickly interjects, wanting to reassure your father, but Eiichi was set on his warnings.
“I wouldn’t have said this if I didn’t see it myself.” Eiichi reminds him, Naoya swallows. “We live in a highly competitive world due to the nature of our families; I’ve lost my wife because of this! And I’d be damned to allow it to happen again to my daughter.”
He hated to remind you of the harsh truth; hated to see how your face would sadden, the excitement for your first child, his first grandchild, quickly disappearing…
“Why would someone do that?” you murmur, frowning.
“They wouldn’t dare—I’ll make sure of it.” Naoya hisses.
Eiichi remained silent, sad for you and your husband. Because even if you’ve experienced first-hand what it is to lose someone through these matters, both have yet to fully understand the extremes those supposedly loyal to them can go to if properly incited. Especially for someone who had so much to lose, just as the elite members of prestigious Zen’in clan.
Even then, your father would not allow such pain to reach you, not the same way it almost did to him and your mother, so, he insisted you keep these news secret from the world—and if you must, only if you must, reveal it to your most faithful ones; the rest could learn when your stomach was too big to deny.
If you do so, keep your baby hidden from the world, safe from those that harbor nothing but pain and sorrow… all will be fine. Eiichi promises so.
…
Or so, that’s what everyone hoped would’ve happened, because if there’s one thing to be learned from this incident, is that no matter how cautious you were, word of your pregnancy still managed to land in the wrong ears, and now, were actively against it.
The question no longer pertained as to how, but rather, who; who was the author of this terrible act?
The notion that someone of Naoya’s relatives, indirectly informed through Naobito’s… drunken rambles, soon crosses the minds of your father and husband. If so, it would make sense as to why they’d use an innocent staff member to do the deed, keep their hands clean of the whole situation, instead of going to bigger extremes.
It’s the most probable of the theories, but they could not annul the following: jealousy from the servants.
Naoya considered that statement to be the most delusional one your father could’ve gathered, but he’d be wise to remember how others perceive him—or more like what he represented. It wouldn’t be too far-fetched that others would desire what he had, or him, in some cases. And naturally, you’re an obstacle to that goal, your baby even more so…
It wasn’t fair, but it was your reality.
Nonetheless, Eiichi and Naoya will still do whatever it takes to keep you safe.
“It’s just for a few days, pumpkin.” Your father would say upon seeing the sadness in your face, which remained even when reassured that Naoya would be with you as soon as possible. “Besides, you’re going to see your brother and sister too—they’ve missed you very much, you know? They’ve been wanting to spoil you and their future niece, or nephew!”
You smile, it’s good that even when in the storm, your family is still able to exude happiness. You could only imagine how enthusiastic they’d be when the baby was finally here.
“I know… I missed them too.” You admit, before looking over to Naoya one last time. “Well… I hope that whatever is keeping you here is quickly dealt with.”
“You won’t even notice I’m gone.” Naoya promises, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about anything—before you know it, you’ll be back at the estate, with me.”
That’s a promise he unfortunately, doesn’t know if will become true inside the promised timeline, but will do anything in his power so it does.
Either way, it’s safe to say that Naoya did manage to keep one part of his promise—and that would be the one where he reassured you wouldn’t even notice his absence, done through sending you endless amounts of gifts, every day, effectively filling your room to the brim with all things he’d knew you’d like, and some for baby too: from clothes for you, to cute onesies he’d like his baby to wear when she was finally here.
“You still think the baby is going to be a girl?” you’d ask through one of the many videocalls he’d make—one daily, at the very least. “Wait a minute… you better not have spoiled me!”
“I just know” He reiterates with shrug; you roll your eyes. “If not, then I’ll have lots of things to return.”
“Well, if it’s worth anything, I also feel like our baby is going to be a girl.” You smile, warming up Naoya’s heart. “I can’t wait to meet her—I just know she’s going to have your eyes!”
“Or yours, I hope.” He longs, you blush. “Have you been eating well, my love?”
“Yes; and no allergies yet.” You explain, Naoya feels relieved—at least the problem didn’t follow you there. “Maybe I was just unlucky that day, Naoya… Are you sure I can’t return to the estate yet?”
“Not until I’m sure you’re going to be safe here.” Naoya responds, and while his words are meant to be comforting, you can’t shake off the sense that something worse happened; that something far bigger than a simple allergy had struck you, specially with the way your staff and family would act around you, going as far as denying you of any information pertaining to the Zen’in.
But… if your husband had a reason to not say anything now, then the best you could do is trust him. The truth will come out eventually, you suppose. So instead you could focus on other pressing matters.
“Well, at least don’t send me too many gifts.” You continued. “While I appreciate them, between you and my father, I don’t think my house has enough room to store all the things you’ve both given me.”
“Who’s given you more things? Me or your dad?” Naoya nonchalantly asks, you gasp.
“Naoya! That’s not the—take it seriously! Control yourself with the gifts, ok?” you say, he chuckles, but ends up agreeing; at least until the topic has quieted down, because there’s no way in hell he’s going to let your father win the upper hand like that one day ever again. “Or at least save them to when I’m back at the estate… which I hope is soon.”
“Almost there.” Naoya says. “Just a few more things, and we’ll be together once again.”
… even if the answer was to be the same, you still needed to ask.
“Is… everything ok?”
Not precisely, not when he has yet to find out the one responsible for all this…
But he’s gotten a lead, an idea of where to start, of who to hunt—which he knows he’ll find in record time thanks to the fury he harbors, further motivating him to do this as quickly and precisely as possible just so he’d have you back home, with him.
“Nothing you should worry about.” He reiterates. “Just keep focusing on your health, the baby, and not doing anything strenuous.”
“I’m just pregnant, Naoya… nothing extraordinary. I still want to help around., you know?”
“I know, and you’ll be able to do that and more in due time, but for now, keep safe, for me, ok? And our little mochi.”
“When will I see you again?” you ask again, hoping that perhaps this time around, the answer will be different.
“Soon.” He promises. “Soon, my love.”
Once he deals with the bastard that hurt you.
Naoya will give them nothing but a glimpse of the sorrow and pain they’d put you through, his fury—make their life a living hell, make them regret the foolish idea that they could ever get away from it; and still, he doesn’t think he’ll be satisfied with his revenge.
He’d want more, he’d want everyone to know that his family are not ones to mess around with.
He’d burn the whole world to set the message across if necessary—and that would only be the bare minimum for you, the love of his life, and now, his baby…
His home.
#ask#naoya zenin#naoya zen'in#naoya x reader#naoya zenin x reader#naoya zenin x you#jjk naoya#naoya zen'in x reader#jjk x reader#jjk fluff#jjk x you#prompt series: jujutsu kaisen
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Cloud Nine (p.sh)
parings: brother’s bff!sunghoon x afab!reader
warning: 18+ MDNI !! not proofread (sorry for mistakes)
genre/cw: smut, e2l, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, sunghoon is a creep kinda, brother’s best friend trope, spit play, oral (male receiving), pillow riding, degradation, size kink, strength play, choking, breeding, spanking, sunghoon is pretty mean to reader, one year age gap, jay is your brother (lmk if anything was missed!)
synopsis: You and Sunghoon have never gotten along. Ever. Constant bickering and fights to the point your brother is fed up as well. What no one knew was how badly you wanted Sunghoon spewing those same words to your face in your bed. What happens when he sees something he shouldn’t have seen?
wc: 3.6k words
a/n: hi hi !! this is my first ever fic on here !! pls let me know how this was and im happy to receive any feedback <3 a hee fic is currently in the works, i just had sunghoon brain rot so i needed to let this one out LOL (update: part two coming soon ;))
[ masterlist ] [ part 2 ]
From as long as you remember, you have always hated your brother’s best friend— Park Sunghoon. Nothing about him amused you and you especially hated the way he always seems to be at your house every weekend. You couldn’t escape him. From his annoying laugh to his stupid ego, you hated everything.
But you couldn’t help but be so attracted to him. Yes, he was annoying but man was he just everything in a package. Tall and gorgeous… not to mention his insanely fit body. You couldn’t help but wonder how big he’d be, hovering over your small frame. But everything disappears in an instant the moment you hear loud knocks on your door.
“Y/n can you get that! It’s Sunghoon!” your brother Jay yells at you from the kitchen. The knocks persist as you stay put, pretending to ignore your older brother as it was his friend anyways. Why should you open the door for a monster? “Y/n please, I’ll make you something to eat too,” your brother begs you. With a loud groan you mutter a “fine” and drag yourself off the couch, heading to the door to open it. Before he could loudly bang on the door once more, you pull the door open. He looks at you with a disgusted face.
“Ugh, did not wanna see your face at the door,” he spits, walking past you making sure to bump your shoulder with his. You slam the door shut giving an annoyed smile back at him.
“If you had forgotten, this has been my house forever, you’re lucky I even open the door for heathens like you,” you spit back, your voice laced with venom. He squints his eyes at you, sticking his tongue out as he makes his way towards the kitchen. “Jay, can you tell your annoying little sister to shut the hell up for once oh my god,” Sunghoon complained to Jay as he walked into the Kitchen.
“How about you both shut the hell up,” Jay annoyedly said rolling his eyes as he put the pizza he’s been working on in the oven. He was never fond of the both of you constantly barking at one another. He thought maybe he was insane for thinking he felt some sort of tension between the two of you. He loved you both but seriously wished he could sew both of your mouths together whenever he felt like it.
“HE STARTED IT!” You yelled in protest. You crossed your arms as you stood at the kitchen doorway, Sunghoon sticking his tongue out at you once again before turning to Jay.
“I don’t care who started it, can you both just give me a single day of peace!” Jay exclaims letting out a sigh. A migraine was surely going to form sooner or later for him. Before you both can protest, he ushers the both of you out so that he can finish making the pizzas with some sanity left. You both grumpily make your way to the couch and sit on opposite ends. To your surprise, at least your favorite show was playing when you got back to your seat on the couch.
“This show is so stupid, I’m changing it,” Sunghoon says as he reaches for the remote on the coffee table. Before he could get it, you immediately jumped up and grabbed the remote first.
“NO. This is my favorite show and my house, I’m not letting you change anything,” you loudly said to him. But he wasn’t going to let you go easily.
“I don’t give a flying fuck if this is your favorite show or not, I wanna watch something else,” He spits back. With that, he lunges at you towards the remote. You hurriedly crawl back to where you were, making sure he couldn’t take the remote away from you.
“Sunghoon stop it,” You struggled to let out as he was enclosing you on the couch. Your breath starts to hitch the closer he gets to you. You could feel him breathing on you. He pins you beneath him, his arms longer than yours as he reaches for the remote you try to hold behind your head. Sunghoon didn’t realize how compromising of a position you both were in until he finally reached for the remote in your hands and looked down at you.
There you were, under him, staring back at him with your doe eyes, crop top hiked up just a bit to where your bra was showing. He didn’t realize how short your shorts really were until now. Eying you up and down, he licks his lips. His thoughts were interrupted with you trying to get him off of you. You have come to your senses and realized how turned on he had just made you, immediately trying to push him off. He just pins your arms down more, inching closer to your ear.
“Stupid girls like you don’t deserve to do things they wanna do,” he whispers. His hot breath sends tingles down your body and you swear you get a little wetter. You try to push him off once more but he doesn’t budge. “Are you going to apologize to me for being so annoying now?” he asks. He looks at you, finding it amusing the way you’re struggling under him right now. He can’t help but think how you’d look naked under him. Sunghoon has always had a thing for you.
“Apologize for what? For your mother raising a dickface, that's you?” you bite back, rolling your eyes at him. Before he could say anything, Jay yells from
in the kitchen the pizzas are done. Sunghoon loosens his grip which gives you the perfect opportunity to push him down and onto the floor, scurrying your way towards your brother. Sunghoon gets up shaking his head… this wasn’t over for him.
Hours passed since your little altercation with Sunghoon earlier in the living room. You couldn’t get him out of your head. Your mind was racing and it didn’t help that he wore his stupid gray sweatpants once again. Thinking about the way he pinned you down and whispered in your ear was enough to get you excited again. With that, you take your shorts and crop top off, leaving you in just your lace undergarments underneath. You just so happened to put on a white matching set— Sunghoon’s favorite color.
To the thought of Sunghoon, you lean back down onto your bed and start to rub small circles on your panty covered clit. It’s embarrassing how wet you already were just thinking about him. You rub just a bit more, sliding your fingers up and down your pussy, feeling the wetness that pooled down there. But this wasn’t enough. You were so desperate and in need of something to satisfy you. You sit up, grabbing the second pillow beside you, putting it beneath you.
Folding it just a bit, you straddle it. Slowly grinding down onto the pillow under you, imagining yourself riding Sunghoon. You hump the pillow in desperation, trying to get off. You grind and grind, wishing Sunghoon’s cock filled you up instead.
Unbeknownst to you, Jay had fallen asleep to the movie he and Sunghoon were watching. Realizing that his friend was asleep, he decided to make his way to find you, just to mess with you again. He always found it so cute how annoyed you’d get to his teasing. But today was different, he wanted more. If it weren’t for Jay, he swears he would’ve taken you on the couch right there and then. Making his way down the long hall towards your room, he notices a faint light coming from the small crack of your door. He carefully steps closer and to his surprise, the sight before him was nothing he ever expected to see in a million years.
There you were, on your bed, wearing nothing but a skimpy lace lingerie set, grinding down on a pillow so desperately. He watches you, making sure he stays as quiet as possible to not get caught. There you were, humping a pillow, your hips grinding over and over, letting out the cutest sounds he has ever heard. Did you know your door was a bit cracked? Who cares, he was enjoying the view.
Sunghoon palms himself as he watches you, not wanting to even blink in fear of missing the show. He just couldn’t believe this was happening. Before the realization of him being a creep watching you pleasure yourself through the crack of your door, that’s when he hears it. You had moaned his name. His dick twitched in his pants, painfully hard and needing to be released.
“S-Sunghoon, you feel so good,” you moaned, increasing your speed on the pillow. He swore he was gonna explode right then and there. He had to have you. But he knew he had to punish you as well. He pushes the door open even more and to his surprise you hadn’t noticed yet. Hell, you haven’t even noticed the fact that he closed the door before him as well.
Loss in your trance, Sunghoon watched you just for a bit before making his move. He clears his throat to get your attention. Startled, you urgently grabbed your blanket to cover yourself, shocked to see Sunghoon in your room. There he looked at you with a smug smile painted on his face.
You swore you saw evil behind those eyes.
“Oh don’t stop now, I was enjoying my show,” he pouts, walking closer to you, standing in front of your bed. “Go on, I’m here now, isn’t that what you wanted?” he asked in a cheeky tone. Your face was red and embarrassment washed over you. You wanted to run away. You felt like a deer caught in the headlights.
“I’m not gonna tell you again, go on, continue what you were doing,” he demanded, pulling your blanket off of you. You were at a loss for words. But something in you gave into him. You start to straddle the pillow again, grinding your pussy against it. Embarrassed, you tilt your head down, trying to avoid any eye contact. You can’t help but get so turned on as he watches you. You hump your pillow desperately letting out whines and moans, trying your best to not be too loud.
“Hoonie~,” You moaned loudly, humping your pillow as you grew wetter. You felt so dirty. You couldn’t believe this was happening right now. You felt like you were on cloud nine and he hasn’t even touched you yet.
Sunghoon smirks, he takes in the scene in front of him, he couldn’t take it anymore and slips his pants down, freeing his hard on. He starts to slowly stroke, watching you as you pleasure yourself. His tip was red and angry, leaking a bit of precum already. He wanted to see more of you.
“Take your bra off,” he demands. You look up at him, shocked to see him pleasuring himself. The sight of his cock making your mouth water. He was huge. No way you can fit that in you, you don’t even think it’ll fit in your mouth. Nevertheless, you obliged and took your bra off, your boobs slowly falling out of the cups. Embarrassed, you try to cover yourself again. He takes his pants and boxers off right away, signaling for you to get closer to him. He needed to feel your mouth on him.
“As much as I love to see you getting yourself off, I need your pretty little mouth on my cock right now,” he said, sitting down on the bed beside you. He pushes you off the bed and onto your knees right in front of him. Watching you carefully, he grabs a fistful of your hair and pushes your face against his cock.
“Open wide,” he instructs, hand still in your hair. You reach your hand up to his shaft, opening your mouth to finally get a taste of him. His tip was already leaking. You put his tip in your mouth. He lets out low groans, guiding you as he grips onto your hair even more. As you expected, he definitely could not fit into your mouth. So using your hand that was on his shaft, you start to stroke him as you suck him off. Getting lost in the pleaser, he needed to be down your throat and that he was gonna do.
“Hands behind your back now,” he firmly said, the tone of his voice catching you off guard but you obliged, your panties getting stickier as the seconds passed. You put your hands behind your back and he starts to buck his hips, his tip reaching further and further down your throat. The sound of him groaning fills the room immediately. You just prayed to the lord your brother was sound asleep.
With his dick down your throat, you can’t help but feel so turned on. This was dirty, you’ve never deepthroat a dick in your life. Well dicks as big as Sunghoon’s. He watches you, making sure to keep eye contact.
“I’ve always known you were a little whore, but letting me fuck your little mouth while your brother’s asleep down the hall?” he grunts out, slamming his cock in and out of your mouth. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, taking in the pleasure. He felt as if he was in a dream. Your eyes teary as all you can let out are moans against his dick. Being too turned on, you snaked your hand from behind your back and into your panties. You attempt to rub your clit as he fucks into your mouth. Now it was your turn to close your eyes from the intense pleasure. Your moans intensify, catching Sunghoon’s attention.
There he saw you, touching yourself. As much as he enjoyed watching you get off, never did he allow you to pleasure yourself as you were pleasuring him. He forcefully tugs you by your hair and off his cock, shaking his head at you as if he was disappointed. You take this time to catch your breath, puzzled at why he suddenly stopped. He then pulls you up by your hair, making sure you were eye level with him. He takes his other hand and grabs your face, squishing your cheeks to make sure you were looking right into his eyes. Chills ran through your body.
“Did I say you can touch yourself?” he quietly asks, you can feel his breath on your face. You shake your head, looking pitiful in his eyes. “Did I say you can touch yourself?” he repeats, that venomous tone coming back to his voice. You were nervous.
“N-No…,” you shakily said. Your breathing intensifies. Sunghoon lets out an almost evil laugh. “I guess this little slut needs a punishment.”
With that, he tosses you onto the bed. With your backside up, he drags your body to the edge. Standing right behind you, your legs hanging off, he starts to caress your cheeks. Taking in the beauty of your backside, it took everything in him to not take you right there and then.
“Take your panties off,” he demands. You angle your butt up just a bit and reach behind you, slowly pulling them down, making sure he sees everything. He was watching you as if you were his prey and he was about to get ready to feast on a meal. The glistening sheen of your arousal stares back at him as you fully remove your panties. He couldn’t wait to have you. He makes his way closer to you, one hand on your ass and the other sliding up and down your folds. You were soaking, practically dripping down your legs.
“Please… touch me Hoonie…,” you softly spoke, the lack of physical action killing you on the inside. Still painfully hard and turned on, he swore he was going to explode right there, hearing your soft voice begging for him to touch you. Before you could speak up again, he spanks you. Caught off guard, you let out a yelp, the action turning you on even more. And then again, a spank lands onto your cheeks. His other hand’s still feeling your wetness, teasing you in an agonizing way. “I wanna hear you beg.”
You shiver a bit as his voice drops even lower than before. You couldn’t believe you were letting him do this to you in the first place. Feeling a sense of pride wash over, you were getting a bit fed up and were about to protest until yet another slap landed onto your cheek. This time harder than the previous two.
“I said– beg,” he leaned down and whispered in your ear. You gulp, feeling trapped beneath him.
“Hoonie please… need you so bad,” every sense of pride and dignity was thrown out the window as you let those words out of your mouth. “Sorry I can’t hear you. What did you say?” he snickers back, egging you on. With one hand now on your waist and the other rubbing his tip up and down your slick folds, he needed to hear you say it one more time. Too horny to even fight back, you crumbled beneath him, just wanting his cock in you as soon as possible.
“Sunghoon please fuck me already, I need your cock in me right now!” you loudly said, he leans back down and into your ear he whispers a “good girl.” He pushes his tip into you, already feeling like your pussy was sucking him in. You both let out a moan. He felt so big in you and it was just the tip.
“S-So… big …,” you muttered. He chuckles. “It’s just the tip baby, can’t handle my cock already?” he presses. You shake your head letting out a tiny squeal and he enters you even more. Fully into you, you felt as if you were being stretched out to the max, no way could you handle this. Yet your pussy was craving more.
Sunghoon couldn't handle it, without giving you any proper time to adjust, he starts stroking into you. Grabbing onto your waist with both of his hands, he fucks you hard on the edge of the bed. Seeing your small frame beneath him and the way your body was just engulfed by his hands, he gets even more turned on.
“So fucking tight Y/n, so fucking wet and all for me– is that right doll?” he grunts out as he slams his cock into you, trying his hardest not to cum. But your cute little moans were making it so hard for him, he felt so lost in the pleasure.
“Y-Yes all y-yours Hoonie~,” you moan loudly, not a single worry in your body. Just you and Sunghoon. He couldn’t take it anymore, he had to see your face. In a swift second, Sunghoon flips you over, still standing at the edge of the bed, he puts your legs over his shoulders as he pumps deeper into you. Fucking you into your bed, he leans down, grabbing your face he pulls you into a heated kiss. Your lips mesh together like they’ve been dying for this moment all their lives. He reaches down to your neck, giving it a small squeeze, startled, you open your mouth which gives him access to stick his tongue. Your tongues dance with one other, Sunghoon starting to feel drunk off of you. After what felt like forever, he pulls back, hand on your jaw, holding your mouth open. He spits in it. You let out a loud whiny moan, feeling more aroused than ever before in your life. You instantly swallow, making him lose his mind.
“You’re such a filthy little slut, swallowing my spit, letting me fuck you like this, is this what you wanted– huh?” He speaks to you, all you could get out were little yelps of “yes.” With your arms snaked around his neck, he pushes your legs off from his shoulders, shocking you he lifts you up off the bed and starts to pound into you harder and harder. You knew Sunghoon was fit but you didn’t know he was that fit. Taking you by surprise with this new angle, he holds you up as he fucks you hard, his pace increasing. You start to feel a knot in your stomach form, getting so close to your climax. Your pussy clenching around him, so tight and pulsating, he knew he was getting close as well. Room filled entirely of moans, skin slapping, and the smell of sex, you needed him to fill you up.
Before you knew it, with one hard pump, you screamed, cumming all over his cock. Overstimulated, he sets you back down onto the bed, helping you ride out your orgasm as he was soon to reach his. The feeling of your wetness and your cum all mixed into one was enough for him to unload right into you. With a few more strokes, he releases, holding onto your body as he rides out his own climax, pumping his seed into you. You felt so full and exhausted. He carefully pulls out, watching as his cum spills out from your pussy. It was a sight he never wanted to forget. He quickly grabs his phone to capture the moment, fingering his load that was spilling out of you back into your hole. You couldn’t help but blush, feeling a bit embarrassed. Sunghoon lays beside you, as he trails kisses along your neck.
“Fuck– you’re all mine,” he said against your neck. Before any realization could hit the both of you as to what you guys just did with one another, the distinct sound of buzzing came from both of your phones. Your faces went pale.
*Jay added Y/n and Sunghoon to a group.*
Jay: You guys are fucking disgusting.
© enwrites // tumblr
#♡; enwrites fics#sunghoon smut#enhypen hard hours#heeseung smut#enhypen smut#jay smut#enha smut#jake smut#fanfiction#smut#enhypen scenarios#sunghoon scenarios#sunghoon reactions#sunghoon hard thoughts#sunghoon hard hours#enhypen imagines#enha imagines#sunghoon x you#sunghoon imagines#enhypen x y/n
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What are your top 3 moments of Max and Lando from 2024? A little late, but I’m quite curious lol
Or in general, what are your favorite moments of them of all time?
my chronological study is not yet caught up, so i can't really do 2024 justice, but i've covered a lot of ground from 2013 to early 2023, and there's just so many things that stand out!!! not just moments but like.. idk. whole parts of their lives. i'll check some dates {edit: and add 20 gifs and a video}, but otherwise, off the dome, my favorite moments lmao let's do this:
max's story about seeing lando driving his kart at 9yrs old, the small details about the location and lando's helmet that he remembered, the fondness in his tone of voice as he talked about it, and calling himself a day one fanboy of lando

there's this old old post on max's insta where he's just starting out, with lando commenting on it in a supportive or teasing way... just seeing how long they've been friends, all the footage of them karting, sharing podiums, and goofing off in tiny race suits together, it's not one moment that i love but the pool of shared experiences and competition
jumping forward in time a bit, that time max said that lando had taken care of him after he stopped racing and wasn't sure what to do, it's just important to me that max showed up just playing on lando's twitch first. lando opened up this whole path for him, ultimately hiring him, shaping the trajectory of the rest of his life
there's some deeply notable streaming early on in lando's house, a favorite being the absurd bathrobe tech support, with lando fresh out of the shower and all up in max's personal space. and then idk it's a small detail but there's times where max and lando are wearing the same glasses and i love that
i can't pick a favorite of the quadrant videos filmed in summer and fall 2021, there's so many deeply endearing and iconic moments, like the hot sauce video, the lie detector (big reaction), the pink 'how well do you know' video (max's absurdly fond tone of voice saying "useless" is my first memory of him, from years ago), the outtakes of the part of the elgato video where they kick niran out of their house
there's connor's august twitch stream from holiday with them all tipsy and topless and deeply tanned on a boat. lando hovering around max's back, making max smell his underarm when he complained. it reminds me of pics i saw of lando shirtless in a paddling pool which i assume were taken by max.
the way they were wearing each other's golf shirts on the course in that one fall golf stream, i think it was shortly after sochi. the whole recurring bit with them sharing a wardrobe, the "whose shoes are those?" "whose joggers are those? "whose hoodie is that?" bit, the fact that it kept going even after they moved apart
those key december 2021 streams, the loooong halo stream where chat called max both lando's dog and his wag. just the wild argument they had about max moving to monaco, with max saying lando'd get lonely, offering to be a house husband almost, and 'joking around' like 'he doesn't want me, we're done, etc..
then the sweet sad energy of the last stream in the house, where lando picks a fight about who's better at golf and uses his keyboard clicking to annoy max. for some reason i love this fight the most out of everything, i've listened to it dozens of times probably, i even transcribed it to see what the sentence length looked like before i started writing rpf. it's just like the perfect quintessence of their dynamic.
max showing up on the mclaren tiktok account in lando's hotel room in dubai the next month jan 2022, having gone on the trip with lando and his gf
quadrant leaving a small cardboard cutout of max in lando's office, after lando was a pest while max tried to plan the office remodel surprise for him. then lando using it to tease max, and lying about throwing it out, keeping it around, and still having it in 2025
the infamous and perfect moment in july where max covered up lando's head after the rally car passed by because lando fully didn't do it himself and max either saw that or knew that he wouldn't do it and that he needed to do it for him
lando being a dj on max's twitch, the sleepover vibes, the way they support him in his new hobby and validate him
max's 2022 singapore trip and the incredible tikok where lando answers the hotel door wearing the exact same clothes as max but in inverted colors, where he slaps max very hard on what looked like the inner thigh, where max bites his knuckle with nerves and is proud of lando's p4
[i've got the winter and spring content to go through in detail, i don't really know what happened here]
the march 2023 max twitch stream with lando in the blue hoodie (kitten, max smelling his underarm, lando losing his mind about a memory of max when he was drunk). i'm pretty sure in that stream, max's dad comes in and asks if lando is staying the night, in a way that communicates he's done it a hundred times before and is welcome to do it a hundred more
the april 2023 twitch streams where lando wanders around, laying with bare feet kicked up on the bed, massaging his back (each others' backs, max returns the favor), lint rolling himself. around this time P says on stream that max is lando's boyfriend, she also calls him his slave and labels what they share as an addiction(!!!)
i know they go to motogp together in the summer of this year, i remember the adorable almost kinda matching outfits. there's also that footage of max looking at lando asleep in that egg pod thing from around then too
[i don't really know yet if/what nortrell happened in late 2023]
then like, 2024, i have so much to catch up on, but i was aware of him by the end of the season. obviously the infamous post disaster races had that gentle parenting from max about eating and sleep while playing tarkov, which was lovely, and then the way max defended him at crucial parts of the season and like asked 'where's the backing' and got angry on his behalf was good too.
2025...... so much so far. the "you said my name so I know you're lying." the "stop fucking kissing her max and hurry the fuck up." connor's "his brother and his boyfriend" comment. the fact that i got jumpscared by max streaming from lando's office again. the pushups. watching the super bowl. just so much.
that was more than i expected to remember lmao anyway, nortrell rights
#i love themmm#sources for these are prob all in my nortrell tag#if not please ask and ill try to find it#nortrell#lando norris#max fewtrell
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MONOPOLY — Armando Aretas [September Prompts] 🩶
A/N: I guess I’m remaining in my Armando writing bag but this was a request from: @dasaniswrlddd & this is mostly a Drabble small work that was also inspired by my boys who’s EP you should check the rest out after reading. It’s only fitting 😉 & you’re welcome!
S/N: the request included Armando dating an older woman, he’s twenty-eight so maybe the reader is thirty-eight? Forty’s? or as old as you are if you’re a older reader lol + mentions of a certain character from the film, “Rebel Ridge,” IYKYK 😉 + a little 🌶️ in there somewhere!
PROMPT IS FROM HERE & I’m using: ¹³⁾ frozen peas pressed against a fresh bruise + ²⁰⁾ rich vanilla perfume.
SYNOPSIS: Armando’s not as good at hiding his feelings for you.
<- read my previous September anthology prompt here.
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻
when Armando was informed that you got hurt out in Italy, he made it his mission to get on the next flight. AMMO was working on a case that would require them to fly out there by the end of the week so he just went earlier, despite the knowing look detective Mike sent his way.
He knows his son became fond of you quickly once they worked with your team, although Armando tried to hide it, it became obvious to Mike. Watching Armando analyze every move you made with admiration and how you commanded orders within your own team. When your team got involved that meant it was more than serious and Secada always made your team the last option if AMMO needed back up. Things tended to get reckless in the moment but you always made sure to clean up well.
Over the last few years you haven’t been getting your hands as dirty, something Armando overheard you sharing with Secada and Detective Lowrey, having your team do most of the work while you supervised but that didn’t mean you forgot everything that you’ve learned. Which is why you have a dagger jammed up right against Armando’s throat, bag of frozen peas dropped to both of your feet as you had Armando pressed up against the wall of the villa out in Collesano.
“Armando,” you stated, “did you really think it was the best idea to sneak up on me?”
He lowers his raised hands, “that wasn’t really my intent.”
“Find that hard to believe.”
“…so you don’t trust me now?” He questioned while peering at you underneath his eyelashes and brimmed hat.
“I don’t trust anyone.”
Armando exhales at this. He doesn’t take it personal since it was someone on your team that ended up being a rat in the first place. Setting you up to be killed while also murdering one of your members you were closest to in cold blood and the way the rest of your team was ambushed, was the ultimate betrayal so he understood where this was coming from.
“Then why am I not dead yet?” His low voice inquires.
You smirked as you lowered the dagger, “the night is still young.”
Armando can’t help but to roll his eyes as you step back from him but he can’t help but to reach forward and pinch your chin, turning your face to the side as he viewed the damage done to your face first. He feels his jaw tighten at the long scar that traveled from the bottom of your ear to the curve of your jaw. It was the beginning of the symbol of an Italian gang here, blade pulled just right to begin the markings of an, “X,” in cursive but they didn’t get to finish the job.
Yet this would scar in more ways than one.
“Be a doll and grab those peas for me?” Your attempt to bring Armando’s attention elsewhere was noted as his eyes flicked back to yours for a moment, silently telling you that he wanted details and he was going to get them from your mouth instead of Secada’s and Mike’s.
He lowers himself, eyes locked on yours still as he reaches for the frozen bag, “where?”
You take the peas and place them underneath your shirt, where Armando gets a peek of your ribcage wrapped in a white bandage. He exhaled at that, relieved that you actually went to the hospital to get checked out. He knew how much you dreaded those visits.
You’re leaning against the island for support, as you take most of the pressure from standing upright and shift to your right—where there’s no bruising on that side of your ribs. “So…what brings you to Collesano? Did you finally decide that you needed a change of scenery from Miami and Mexico City?”
Armando gives you a deadpan glance as he fires back, “I never would have pictured Italy as a place to live low for you. Tell me, when did you buy this property?”
You scoff, stiffly shifting to grab that hard liquor that’s waiting in the square glass for you. Throwing it back with clenched eyes you respond, “Maybe I’m borrowing it.”
“From who?” Armando crossed his arms, “Terry?” He almost spits out the man’s name, which makes you quirk up a brow.
You start, “I’m not…doing this with you tonight so if you came here to brood or whatever—I’m not here for it.”
Armando stepped to you then, “I came here to be with you, no bullshit. Got here as fast as I could. Something the other guy isn’t even here doing.”
Sighing you dip your head as Armando has his heated stare locked only on you, “…while I appreciate that…I can take care of myself, thank you. I’m grown.”
“That you are,” Armando unapologetically scans his eyes over your frame before settling comfortably back on your face, “but there’s nothing wrong with letting someone in from time to time.”
“You should take your own advice, Aretas.” You huffed, as you searched his eyes, making him blink his own stare away as he rubbed at his beard in annoyance.
He was aware of what you were getting at. You’ve been around to see his interactions with Detective Mike Lowrey, even worked with him and Marcus previously when you first got your team together. Mike was certainly a ladies man and was damn good at his job…a little sloppy at times but as well as you knew Mike, you genuinely believed if he knew about Armando, he would have made an effort to be there even if it was painfully awkward. That was a conversation that was just as old as Armando’s opinion on “the other guy,” you were legally married to.
That’s right, you were technically spoken for.
To keep it simple it was a MACP thing really and a story for a different time!
“Yeah well clearly the both of us have the patience.” He states, his gaze going back to the scar on your face, “I’ll be back.”
Sarcastically you say, “aw but you just got here!”
Armando snorts as he starts backing away, “don’t worry mami, I’m not goin’ too far but try not to miss me too much.”
He winks.
“Oh, Please.” You scoff, turning to pour yourself another shot.
When Armando returns, it really wasn’t that long as you just managed to sit yourself up at the high chair by the island counter. That was a a job within itself thanks to your bruised ribs and you knew you could have easily picked one of the many couches in this villa, preferably the two seat sofa that’s right by the open window next to the kitchen but of course you liked to be difficult.
The hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you feel Armando’s hands dig into your tense shoulders from behind. He gets a light whiff of your vanilla perfume, it’s usually potent—rich—enough that it lingers in the air whenever you’re near. Right now it’s faint but it still makes him want to trail his nose up the slope of your neck.
“Hey,” he begins, “let’s get you cleaned up.”
Looking over your shoulder, the exhaustion has settled on your face and in that moment it almost shocks Armando that you don’t put up a fight. He holds onto your hand as you take your time getting down from the chair, a firm but gentle hold goes around your waist as he leads the way to the full bath he managed to find on the first level of the home.
The water is steaming and just what you needed. Armando was always onto you and knew the moment he caught sight of you tonight, he no problem providing. You manage to peel your clothes off and Armando’s concern is all over his face once he gets to see the black, blue, and purple bruises with your back turned to him. Those weren’t the only ones on your beautiful body but the ones on your ribs were the most upsetting.
He regains his composure, springing forward to help lower you into the water, head going right back against the pillow along the tub. Your eyes are closed and he almost coached you to sleep, running the pad of his thumb against the apple of your cheek. He was falling deep and he only had himself to blame if you ever broke his heart.
Part of him believes you won’t.
This has been going on long enough for Armando to have faith in whatever this was. Even when he was locked up, your connection never seemed to falter. Call him a fool but Armando was certain he’s never felt this kind of a way about anybody before you.
He’ll cater to you and sure you’ll give him a hard time, initially finding it all fun and dangerous games at first but that all shifted pretty quickly although in Armando’s mind, it felt like forever for you to admit your truth.
That you were feeling him more than you wanted to too. Which is why you allowed him to stay with you, help you bathe and briefly come to terms with what all transpired, even if you tried to block it out.
Even when you laid on top of him afterwards in one of the foreign bedrooms, he didn’t let go of you as you listened to the thud of his heartbeat and he took on the weight of you, all of it because he loved you—even if you didn’t want to hear him say it.
You felt it then and even more now that he came all this way for you.
The both of you wouldn’t be getting any sleep due to past traumas but that was left in the dark of the room. There’s buzzing that fills the heavy silence, you reach out clicking on the phone to silence it before flipping it back over.
“That could be important.” Armando mumbled.
‘Could be your husband,’ He thinks to himself.
You sniff, shifting to rest your chin onto the back of your hand, “Nothing else is important right now.”
“Yeah?” Armando quizzes, tucking his own chin to look at you, heart beating even harder now underneath your hands.
Wincing you lean forward, lips hovering over his, “Yeah.”
That was all the confirmation Armando needed as he moves to cradle your head and quickly places his lips right on yours. There’s a sigh of relief that escaped your lips as you both go into a battle trying to take the lead, which makes you laugh and a usual faint dimple appear on one side of Armando’s cheek. It’s when his tongue touches yours and he gets a nice grip on your ass with both hands that the humor fizzles away.
Armando’s attentive as you slowly take your place on top, hands gripping your hips against the silk night slip that you’re in now. “You sure you should be—
He starts but one move, has his hold digging into your hips, his head thrown back while biting down on his bottom lip. A laugh escapes your lips and Armando has to peek at you while he soaks in the real feel of you, your hair is a curtain around your face shape and the smirk on your face picks at his ego but he can’t complain and say he isn’t fond of this position.
“What was that?” You tease, “Don’t worry about me baby, I got you.”
Armando has to remind himself to breathe and you haven’t moved yet. His suddenly damp hands slip against the material of your nightwear, but he had to watch as he slides it back. That image alone makes a grunt spill from his lips and that’s enough to let you continue but Armando is always ready for your games.
When you separate just enough, he gains leverage himself, angling his own hips upwards while choosing to guide your hips downwards this time, erupting a pretty noise from your mouth. It’s his turn to smirk up at you, when you snap your attention back to his eyes while you fall over. Your elbows are beside his head now since sitting upright wouldn’t work at this time and especially with Armando’s own move he just pulled.
“Hi.” He smiles at you.
You scowl, “pendejo.”
That scowl releases when he places a lingering kiss right above where your new scar is. Gently he flips you both over and gazed at you so lovingly that some might say it was too much to bear.
It’s a pecking fight between your lips while Armando is on his knees but you can fight dirty when you want to and that gets him to move against you. Rocking you into the bed and loving you properly just like you knew he could.
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆ ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻
Continue with my September anthology prompts here.
#Spotify#Armando Aretas#armando aretas lowrey#armando aretas x reader#jacob scipio#bad boys for life#bad boys ride or die#September prompts#requests#queued
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take my soul, need control
pairing : benjamin poindexter x matthew murdock
warnings : SMUT❗❗condescending use of “daddy” from matt to dex, finger sucking, choking, hair pulling, blowjob, rough facefucking, breathplay, shoe humping, shared cum eating, degradation. pet names used: sweetheart, good boy, good puppy, baby, daddy. aftercare and softness at the end. DON'T READ IF UNDER 18 ❗❗
summary : there’s a lot of tension between dex and matt in the interrogation room. dex just wants to see how far he can push his handsome counselor. maybe even let him have the illusion of control for a bit. (spoilers, it's not an illusion)
w/c : 2.2k
a/n : first time writing smut !! based off this @nyikura. not as crazy as my og thoughts, but i'm still taking it as my practice for the pt 2 of my pope cody fic, so feedback with comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated !! please bear with me if it's unrealistic bcs honestly i’ve never even had my first kiss LOL so i had to rely on tips online for the smut. also, i tried my best to include non-visual descriptions when it came to Matt, but there's still visual descriptions for the sake of the reader. divider credits: @uzmacchiato. gif credits: @from-jjlee. writing prompt credits: @urfriendlywriter. i pushed back my report writing for this fic so i hope yall enjoy hehe !!
Matt believes he has excellent self-control and discipline.
Years of being the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen has refined his need for bloodlust. Kept his anger at bay even for the worst kinds of criminals, held back his dark urges when the night called to him.
So why, is it, that hearing Dex's heartbeat race when he yanked the dirty blonde hair, made him so fucking hard?
Matt had noticed Dex’s heartbeat picking up from when the pet name “sweetheart” dripped oh so condescendingly from his lips earlier, and damn if that knowledge didn't stir something in his chest. The same place he locks up those wrong wants, where guilt manifests for certain fantasies.
Dex steals a glance down at Matt’s lap, a cocky smirk pulling at his (pretty) lips,
“Need help with that, counselor?”
Matt lets go of the (soft) hair and holds his jaw with a bruising grip instead, keeping Dex’s eyes on him as he bends down closer to his face,
“Shut your fucking mouth. I could make you rot in here for the rest of your life and no one would care.” Matt grits out, (yet he hears his own heartbeat quickening).
Dex just grins, like this is all a big game to him.
“Why don’t you make me? C’mon counselor, I’m pretty good with my mouth.” Dex pouts, fucking pouts against Matt's grip when he drawls out the last word.
Matt thinks that's his last straw, thinking about those pretty lips, thinking about them wrapping around something else. With the same hand, his fingers tip Dex’s jaw up, gently caressing the skin there, an action that could almost be mistaken for fondness. Then, his thumb slowly parts Dex’s lips.
Fuck.
Just the slick sounds of an eager tongue and the feeling of Dex wrapped around his finger (quite literally), has Matt needing to let the devil out.
“That pretty little mouth of yours, sweetheart …” Matt whispers, letting out a dark chuckle that goes straight to Dex’s cock.
So Matt does just that. He lets the devil out.
Matt yanks Dex forward by the collar easily and kicks the chair back, giving them more room while Dex is still chained to the table.
“Get on your fucking knees.”
Dex lets out a cocky laugh, oh the things Matt's gonna do to shut him up.
“Your wish is my command, counselor.”
The metallic clink of the chains rattles throughout the room as Dex makes his descent. Keeping his eyes locked on Matt's bulge the whole time. His tongue darting out quickly as he comes face to face with it as his knees hit the floor.
“Unzip me.”
An unsure pause lingers in the air, as if to say “How can I?”.
“Not with your hands, sweetheart. Your teeth.”
Matt hears a sharp inhale, but Dex obliges nonetheless. Gets real close, tongue peeking out to catch the zipper. His teeth makes contact with the zipper, and he tugs it down, down, down, before sitting back on his heels.
“Good boy.”
Matt lets his suit pants drop down, pulling out his aching cock. But something’s at the back of his mind. Dex had a different reaction to that piece of praise, he noted. Heartbeat speeding up, but not as fast as when he would use “sweetheart”. Hm. A different title, perhaps?
He lets a hand brush through Dex’s soft curls, the kneeling man’s eyes going hazy at the contact.
“M’ gonna fuck that attitude out of you now, baby”.
That’s the only warning Dex receives, before Matt plunges his big, aching cock past his lips.
Almost choking, as Matt drags his cock out until just the head is left, before driving it back in with full force. Ever the great multitasker, Matt still focuses on Dex’s heartbeat not quickening up enough to his liking.
Matt keeps up the unrelenting pace, beaming with an evil smile when he hears Dex struggling from the sheer size of him.
“What’s wrong, huh? Can’t handle it? Am I just too big for you? S’ that it? Too big for Daddy, yeah?”
The mocking words drip from his mouth with ease, but Matt tilts his head when he catches something.
Dex’s heart going absolutely haywire.
Hot.
Fucking.
Damn.
Matt sheathes himself completely inside the warmth of Dex’s mouth in one smooth motion, the tip of his cock buried in Dex’s throat.
“Yeah? ‘Course you’d like that, being called Daddy while on your knees like a fucking whore. My cockhungry whore huh? Daddy’s being a good whore jus’ for me?”
Tears escape and fall down Dex’s face, his eyes totally glossed over now.
Matt keeps Dex in place, gripping the hairs at the back of his head, muttering sinful words. Only when Matt hears his heartbeat pacing too fast, does he yank Dex off of his cock.
Oh how Matt wishes he could see the image laid out in front of him.
A string of saliva connects glossy lips to the tip of his cock, Matt feels the spit dribble land on his thigh. He smells the arousal emitting from Dex, the desire making his head spin. Chest heaving, the sound of heavy breathing filling up the room.
But something’s not right. That’s not the only sound in the room. There’s still a faint rustle of fabric.
Matt tilts his head down at dex.
Places his fancy business shoe on top of Dex’s covered cock that's been rutting against it, stopping the movement.
“Did I give Daddy permission to pleasure himself?” Matt snarls.
He feels Dex shake his head, hand still at the back of it.
“N-no. M’sorry, couldn't help it. I’m sorry, I just need- needed more please.”
“Just couldn't resist being more of a whore, huh? If you want to act like a bitch in heat so much, then I should treat Daddy like one right?”
Matt could practically feel Dex’s puppy dog eyes looking up at him in confusion. If Dex hadn't been running his mouth earlier, maybe he would’ve considered going a little softer on him. Maybe even plant a kiss on his hair.
But that's not what Dex wants, Matt knows. He knows Dex craves being controlled, being told what to do. He knows Dex is bigger now, could easily fight back against him even while chained up. But Dex doesn’t, he doesn't want the soft, gentle lawyer Matt Murdock. He needs the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, and Matt is more than willing to give that to him.
“Gonna take your cock out, and you're gonna make yourself come by humping it against my shoe. Think Daddy can manage that? That's all I’m giving you, since you wanted to misbehave.”
Matt can hear the pitiful gulp, feels the nod in his hand.
Lowering himself, he pulls down Dex’s prison pants just enough to expose his underwear. He snaps the waistband, smirking when Dex moans from the slight pain. Then, he takes out Dex’s drenched cock.
“Fuck, sweetheart. Can feel how much you’re fucking dripping for me.” Matt can’t help the pet name from slipping, not when his hand gets drenched from how much precum is leaking from Dex’s cock.
Dex’s hips stutter when Matt gives his cock a few strokes, hand getting messy from all precum.
Matt pulls away and Dex whines deep in his chest, chasing after the friction.
“Hey. You misbehave, you get punished. ‘M gonna facefuck that pretty mouth of yours now Daddy, you’re gonna take what I give and fuck yourself on my shoe.”
Grips the back of his head again, with both hands this time.
“If you stop, I stop. And I know Daddy wants me to fill his throat with my cum, so make sure you keep humping like a bitch in heat, yeah?”
Dex barely finishes his nod before Matt starts thrusting in his mouth again.
Garbled moans and slick sounds fill the room. Matt pistons his hips so fast, so hard that Dex chokes on his cock everytime it hits the back of his own throat.
Dex can barely see straight with the amount of tears in his eyes, they trickle down his face, mixing with the saliva dripping down his chin. He keeps grinding down on Matt’s shoe, chasing after heat and friction that's never enough. But it's still Matt, and so it is enough.
“Fuckkk, you take my cock so good. Daddy makes such a good cocksleeve, fuck. Can feel me hitting the back of your throat, so fucking tight and warm. C’mon, keep rubbing, yeah keep humping like a good puppy.”
Swirling his tongue around, tracing the vein under Matt’s cock, swallowing around it.
“Fuck me sweetheart, do that shit again, oh please Daddy.”
What kind of Daddy would Dex be if he didn't listen to his good boy?
Flattening his tongue, Dex licks a long stripe against the vein before swallowing again.
Matt feels his body lurching forward from the force of his orgasm. The shocks of it travelling from his head all the way down to his feet making him dizzy. He cums deep into Dex’s mouth, keeping his cock in Dex’s throat so it collects every last drop.
The feeling of Matt’s cum hitting the back of Dex’s throat, the pure angelic image of Matt as he hits the peak of pleasure and the friction from the humping, it’s enough to make Dex’s eyes roll to the back of his skull. His moans and whimpers are muffled by Matt’s cock, and his cum shoots out all over Matt’s shoe.
After what feels like forever, Matt gently pulls himself out of Dex’s mouth. Caresses Dex’s jaw, placing a thumb over his lips.
“Don’t swallow.”
Even in his hazy, fucked-out state, Dex manages to listen. Nodding dumbly.
Matt bends down, gets on his knees to match Dex. Reaches his free hand to Dex’s cock. Hears him whimper, as Matt covers his hand around it. Pulls his hand back, collecting Dex’s cum messily around his fingers.
Tilting his head, Matt brings his middle and index finger to Dex’s mouth. Grazing his fingertips on Dex’s lips.
“Open.”
Dex’s pretty glossy lips part, taking in Matt’s fingers. He’s careful to not let Matt’s cum drip out as the taste of his own cum mixes around in his mouth.
Matt reels back his fingers, leaving Dex’s mouth with a soft “pop!”.
Then, Matt surges forward, his lips clashing with Dex. A shocked gasp is let out, and Matt uses that to shove his tongue past Dex’s lips. The taste of his own cum mixed with Dex’s is almost enough to make him cum again.
Their tongues swirl together. Licking, sucking and conquering. Matt runs his tongue over Dex’s, scooping up some of their mixed up cum, swallowing it down and has to physically restrain himself from chasing after more. Not when Dex hasn't had a taste yet.
Matt parts from Dex, smiling to himself when he feels Dex chasing after him, peppering kisses on his lips. Matt softly holds Dex’s face in between his hands, stopping the movement.
“Swallow.”
Dex follows the command, the gulp very audible to Matt’s ears.
“There’s my pretty, obedient sweetheart.”
Matt is gentler now. Doesn't want to take back his touch when Dex is leaning into his hands, but he knows he has to. They're running out of time.
“Shhh, shh. It’s okay. Not gonna leave yet. Just gotta clean you up abit, okay? Can you let me take care of you sweetheart?” Matt reassures Dex, he knows how he can get.
Dex calms down a little, his heartbeat slowing down. Matt takes that as a sign to wipe the cum off Dex and himself. Gentle touches. He pulls the underwear and pants back onto Dex, righting himself next as well and drags the chair back in place. Guides Dex up to it, settling him down slowly. He resumes the position he took when this whole thing started, sitting on the edge of the table close to Dex, who’s leaning back and still coming down from the high. Guard down. Peaceful.
Matt runs a clean hand through his soft hair a couple of times. Plants a soft kiss on top of his head, Dex’s eyes fluttering shut at the contact. Continues treating him with soft reverence. Matt’s voice is kinder this time, like he’s afraid of scaring Dex off.
“I’m gonna get you out. Soon, I promise. If I can’t do it as a lawyer, then I’ll do it as Daredevil.”
Dex’s eyes slowly open back up.
“Why?”
His voice cracks. Like a small child, wondering why he’s been abandoned time, and time again.
Matt breathes deep. Lets the air settle in his lungs. Lets the sound of the inmates outside travel to his ears. Lets the memories of Special Agent Benjamin Poindexter fill his mind. Not Bullseye, not the deranged criminal who killed his best friend. Just Dex.
“Because that's what good men do. They defend their worst enemies.”
no pressure tags for beloved mooties : @callsign-fangirl @thevillainswhore @kyamiia @htchnr @monicfever @millennialtrashjigglypuff @simshay
#dexmatt#benjamin poindexter x matt murdock#benjamin poindexter x matthew murdock#bullseye x daredevil#benjamin poindexter#bullseye#matt murdock#daredevil#daredevil born again
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Hello! Welcome!
Let's try this, can I request Lucifer om with uhhh let's say reader that acts the way he acts with Diavolo? Like the lapdog of the lapdog, you catch my drift? 😭
Wasn't sure if you write for both hc and oneshot but whichever is fine by me as long as you're comfortable.
Ty! Take your time, drink water <3
A lapdogs lapdog; Lucifer x gn!reader
A/N: Thank you so much for the request, I havent been playing Obey Me for a good year now and the only content I consume of it are from fanfics, so my bad because everyones likely OOC.. This is also my first shot at writing headcannons, so hopefully they arent too bad. Enjoy!! (Also, the Samuel pfp? LMAO)
I’m so sorry that this is incredibly late, I’m not sure when I’ll be posting the others because I’ve had a butt to of schoolwork recently.. sorry guys.. requests r still open but I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get to them!
CW: extreme ooc lowk, thats it, if you spot any lmk <3
The person who finds it the funniest has to be Diavolo himself, seeing his closest confidant having someone who is as naggy as themselves cracks him up everytime. He probably starts using you as a way to slip out of unwanted conversations with Lucifer.
Oh, he wants to talk about numbers and strategies or whatever? Is that [name] I see in the distance??
The man himself, Lucifer, may find it endearing on a good day. But more often than not, he is NOT having a good day. For the longest time since you got there, he found it annoying how your DDDs wallpaper was set to a blurry picture of him. What are you, one of Asmodeus’ fan girls?
Once Belphegor was freed, he started plotting with Satan. Initially, you were apart of this hate group because well, you’re Lucifers #1 fan. You should be into everything associated with him.
You were soon kicked out after their plans were interfered with, wow a door that teleports you into some void for a whole day? Haha, I wonder how you got in there first. Lucifers never fell for one of their tricks, but he wonders when you’ll figure that out.
Anyways, imagine Mammon punching the wall because he’s upset you don’t dote on him the same way, lol
When he was choosing an exchange student, he didnt except for them to start developing a budding relationship. Sure, maybe he found you especially annoying at times, the cream puff explosion to the countless other incidents, he doesnt doubt that if he were anyone else you probably wouldve been long gone. But it would be after all those incidents, he would scribble away in his office- the picture of your lingering smile plays over and over again in his mind like a broken record player.
He pictured you tripping down the stairs with files in hand, and he smiled. Whether it was out of adoration or just cruel amusement was unknown but he's never been the best at discerning his own emotions. Yet he doesnt let anyone but you linger in his office, sure sometimes one of his brothers comes in there to ask for something, but they rarely go out of their way to spend their time with it, and that's usually just how he likes it. The first few times you sat in the armchair pushed into the corner of the room, he’d sneak dubious glances at you every now and then, keeping his silence. Today, he just accepts your presence, your sleeping body sprawled out on the armchair as if you dont have a care in the world, feels natural to him- in fact, when you arent there, Lucifer finds it hard to keep focus.
As much as he may try to deny it, he’ll always have a certain fondness for you that no one else can claim nor replace.
© miowyaa | please do not steal, repost, or translate any of my work.
#obmswd#obeymeswd#obey me x reader#obey me x y/n#obey me x gender neutral reader#obey me lucifer#obey me lucifer x reader#lucifer obey me#x reader
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WOAH the first introduction of my actual MC whattttt :000
that won’t be happening often
pardon the background i hate doing them lol This is Ev! My Golden Trio Bro (Jayden should kinda be there too but he isn’t part of the actual Golden trio so he is absent)
Full name is Evarin Aldrich Whitewood, he comes from a Pureblood Family, where his Parents are fond of older and more Fancyish names(though he doesn’t have the fanciest name out of the three Whitewood Kids :).
Relationship Chart:
Not everyone is there, as i did cut out antagonists and characters he has no relationship with/doesn’t even know who they are.
If you can’t tell, Ev doesn’t like people all that much, he’s rather solitary and studious, only having a few close friends.
My whole 'au' kinda story thing is split up all between like seven of these characters, all being the main characters of different seasons and having their different friend groups. For instance, Ev is not all that great of friends with Kevin, Robyn, Lottie, and so on.
-His seasons are:
-The Mysterious Malady
-Intercontinental Wizard’s Cup
-A Light in the Dark
Along with those, he has the main storyline, and the majority of the Quests, but not all.
-Fun lil details:
House: Slytherin
Patronus: Komodo Dragon
Wand: English Oak, 11.8 inches, Phoenix Feather Core
Born: Nov. 28th 1996(Part of the Cutoff Crew, with Daniel, Robyn, and Kevin)
-His favorite Classes are Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration, and although they aren’t classes, he enjoys Dueling and plays Quidditch as a Chaser.
He might not strike you as the biggest Quidditch fan, especially seeing as he prefers to spend most of his time studying and such, but he uses the games and practices as time to get his mind off of certain things.
(Which was partly short lived, as the Freys became the Team Beaters a year or so after he made the team himself. Though he has to admit…they aren’t exactly a hindrance to the team, as he feared they would be)
-Being a Slytherin, Ev shares a Dorm with both Daniel and the Frey Brothers, so you can imagine how divided that room is..and not just in friend groups and opinions of each other.
Evarin is a bit of a Neat-Freak, though not to an extreme degree. He can’t focus in a messy space, and very much prides himself in his attentiveness.
The Frey Twins are the complete opposite and prefer to use the floor as their storage space rather than their trunks or drawers. Ev can excuse a lot of things, but actively leaving your room looking like an Erumpent rampaged through it is not one of them. Daniel is better, but does often have organized messes.
yes i felt like drawing a room layout with a mess i don’t know why, help
*Also for context in my story Daniel is a Slytherin and Ivy is a Ravenclaw, yes i split up the Golden trio i’m sorry Ivy just doesn’t fit Slytherin imo…so i went with what the official art put her as :>*
Anyhow that’s all i feel like writing on this one cuz it’ll get too long, so yurrr
Feel free to ask questions about Ev, the relationships with canon or other of my oc’s, or really just anything relating to him.
You can ask on this post or use my ask box, and if you’re awkward about asking just as i am, go ahead and do an Anonymous Ask :DD
~Thank you for reading this whole thing~
p.s. Who should i introduce next :000
-Jayden
-Adelyn
-Alicia
-Iven
-Merri
-Tamara
#Despite being my main mc#Ev is not in fact my favorite hpma oc#hpma#hp magic awakened#harry potter magic awakened#hpma mc#hpma oc
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gravity
pairing: lucien x reader
summary: falling in love with lucien felt like trying to resist gravity and realizing it’s a futile pursuit. slowly, and then all at once.
word count: 1.7k
warnings: none/mostly fluff!
a/n: i played around a little bit with my writing style and i really enjoyed it :’) also i’m only capable of writing fluff for lucien i think lol
masterlist
banners by @/cafekitsune !
lucien: derived from the Latin root word lux, meaning light.
When you had first felt yourself falling for Lucien Vanserra some odd years ago, you had been keeping a watchful eye on him — per Rhys’s request — upon his initial arrival to the Night Court under the guise that you would help him research ways to persuade the human queens to your cause against Hybern.
Initially, it had been just that. A favor for your High Lord, your friend.
But what had once felt like a vague indifference for the youngest Vanserra brother quickly devolved into a genuine appreciation for him. The more time you spent with Lucien, the more you glimpsed the light peeking out from beneath his guarded exterior.
(You nearly laughed at how aptly Lucien lived up to the brightness belying the meaning of his name.)
It had started with friendly teasing, then secret smiles over piles of textbooks, then not so accidental touches in the quiet of the townhouse. With each evolution of your relationship with Lucien, the more and more you found yourself wanting to be around him, seeking each other out with flimsy excuses that would guarantee a day’s worth of cherished company.
The inextricable desire you had to be near him that was growing exponentially with every subtle glance he stole had made you nervous. Wary, even.
You were an academic – the coveted researcher for the Night Court – relying heavily on concepts you could study, could quantify. Well-evidenced theory informed much of your advice to Rhys and his court, and you were often the first point of contact when anyone had any questions about…anything; your wealth of knowledge was endless.
But Lucien — his undeniable magnetism — was an enigma; you could never quite understand why you’d felt so drawn to him, could never formulate an accurate hypothesis for how easily he could coax a smile to your lips and make butterfly wings tickle your stomach.
But it was becoming increasingly evident that he felt the same indisputable pull that you did. He had spent much of his time in your presence, bringing you tea in the late hours of the nights you spent in the townhouse’s reading room, poring over tomes and texts that you and Amren had thought might be useful. Lucien always made the excuse that he made too much tea and didn’t want it to go to waste.
(Later, you’d find out that he didn’t even really like the tea he brought you every night, only brewing an excessive amount of it because Feyre had offhandedly mentioned it was your favorite.)
He was rarely there to give his opinions, merely lingering to offer his quiet companionship, situating himself in a comfortable lounge chair in your periphery as he perused the pages of his book of choice. More often than not, he’d fall asleep in what had to be a supremely uncomfortable position, untouched tea cooling on the table.
It was in those sweet and fragile beginnings of your relationship with Lucien that you had begun to contemplate the potential cosmic underpinnings of your mutual fondness for each other, and what that could mean for you and your future.
Orbiting each other like stars caught in the same gravitational field, you and Lucien were on a steady course of stellar collision, sure to erupt in some unexplainable astral phenomenon that would certainly result in your doom. Or your salvation.
(It was the latter.)
The same way you could track the trajectory of an apple falling from a tree and calculate the force with which it would hit the ground, you could guess — with near one hundred percent accuracy — how hard you would fall for Lucien. It was a dangerous descent, you knew, but one that you could hardly fight against.
Despite being quite the closet romantic — how could you not be, with the knowledge of endless possibilities at your fingertips? — you had been hesitant to pursue anything more with Lucien, wanting to preserve the innocent, lighthearted flirtations that had come so easily between you. You’d been hurt before, been wickedly tricked into the dangerous downward spiral of broken promises and fleeting loyalty of lovers past. And you’d be damned if you’d let yourself make that mistake again.
But Lucien…
Lucien was all of things your previous paramours had not been. He was kind and gentle and genuine. Funny and insufferably sweet. He was a wonderfully fresh breath of air in an otherwise stagnant atmosphere.
He had his darkness — he’d admitted as much to you himself. But he had never hidden it from you, had even allowed you the privilege of holding the most tender parts of his past in your hands to examine, always providing ample opportunities for you to deny him, decide that you didn’t want all the pieces of his whole after all.
You had never been afraid of the dark, though, not in the literal or metaphorical sense. It was comforting, quiet, familiar. Besides, before Lucien, you had never found a light bright enough to fear the return of the dark.
But when faced with the sheer enormity of the warmth his light provided, suddenly you were afraid of its absence. You wanted only to spend your time basking beneath the sun you had discovered beneath Lucien Vanserra’s ribs.
It was torturously paradoxical, how the more you chased Lucien’s light the more you were plunged into the dark unknown of what loving him would mean, and how afraid you had become. But resisting Lucien’s solar gravity was like trying to defy the very laws that governed the universe you were lucky enough to live in with him: near impossible.
The way he so effortlessly drew you to him, enticed you to trust him, open yourself to him was something that the greatest physicists of your time could never explain. It was a mystery you weren’t sure you wanted solved for fear that once discovered, he’d be taken from you; you selfishly wanted to keep Lucien’s impossibly beautiful energy to yourself.
He was undefinable in his unwavering loyalty and limitless consideration. Lucien’s love for you seemed to be as intrinsically written into his existence with the same certainty that you knew the sun would rise over the horizon every morning. It was with that same certainty that you knew falling in love with him was inevitable, and fighting it was a futile resistance of gravity.
So you had let yourself fall, let yourself dive deep into the unknown, praying – begging, really – to whatever gods that were listening that this wasn’t another funnel towards heartbreak.
You fell with maddening speed and Lucien caught you – having already fallen long ago – with all of the warmth of the sun that his name promised.
If your past self had ever doubted the stability of loving Lucien Vanserra (read: you did), none of that doubt existed in you now. Especially in moments like this: skin to skin in the morning light of the first spring day in the Night Court. Three years since you and Lucien (separate) became you and Lucien (duo), you could hardly believe that you ever considered any other choice but him.
The sun was warm on your back as you lay on your side, arm tucked comfortably beneath your head as you listened to Lucien give you his annual spiel about how the springs in the Spring Court were unbeatable, though the Night Court did have some acceptable weather sometimes. You giggled at his remarkable consistency, love and fondness filling the space between your ribs, momentarily seizing your heart to flutter giddily.
“Okay, Lu,” you responded in mock exasperation. “And then in the fall –”
“Autumn,” he corrected, just to jest further.
“ – you’re going to tell me that the Autumn Court has the best autumns.”
“Naturally.” His grin was blinding as he teased you, pressing a firm kiss between your brows.
You rolled your eyes but gave in, leaning in towards him – always leaning in towards him (that pesky gravity again).
“But I guess your court,” he continued, “has us beat as far as stargazing goes.”
“Naturally,” you mimicked, winking.
His laugh was a resounding bell of warmth and you took the opportunity to drink him in, warm skin tinted pink with joy and the heat of the morning sun. His hair was disheveled with sleep, but he was impossibly effortless in his beauty.
The freckles on his cheeks reminded you a lot of the stars that illuminated the streets of Velaris, and you spent the next few hours of the early morning drawing constellations on his skin and fabricating stories of their origin while Lucien’s own fingers drew matching patterns onto your back.
He whispered cheesy lines about how you outshone all of the stars in your beloved Night Court, and then his cheeks dimpled — beautiful craters of mirth — as he smiled at your feigned incredulity. He kissed you then, and you once again found yourself at the mercy of his gravitational pull, your body arching almost instinctively against his in an effort to satisfy your craving for the feel of his skin against yours.
Lucien – as always – indulged you, snaking a muscled arm around your waist to pull your body flush against his as he whispered in your ear about how he had heard once that freckles were the spots that past life lovers had kissed the most. In an act of petulant pseudo jealousy at the idea that someone had the privilege of loving Lucien before you, you spent the rest of the morning peppering his skin in a thousand kisses.
“No need to be jealous, my love,” he said as you anchored your lips to the apple of his cheek. “I’m certain that in every life before this one, I enjoyed the pleasure of your affections. And I will continue to find you in every one after.”
Maybe that was it. Maybe the undeniable, visceral need to have him, be with him, love him was written into your bones by the infinite previous lives you spent within each others’ orbit. Your devotion to Lucien seemed as intrinsic as the laws of the universe; there was no life in which you did not feel the warmth of his yearning.
You hummed in contented agreement, feeling as though you’ve just discovered the unthinkable as you continued your quest, reveling in the gentle shiver you earned with a well placed kiss to the junction of his jaw and neck. For a brief moment, you made a mental note to thank whatever force – physical, cosmic, celestial – that had bound you and Lucien together.
#lucien x you#lucien x reader#lucien x y/n#lucien#lucien vanserra#lucien acotar#lucien fanfic#lucien fanfiction#acotar fanfic#acotar fanfiction#acotar x you#acotar fic#acotar x reader#acotar x y/n#a court of thorns and roses#acowar#acomaf#acosf#acotar#lucien fluff#lucien x female!reader#lucien x f!reader#acotar imagine#lucien imagine#lucien fic
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got lovestruck, went straight to my head (got lovesick all over my bed) - nico hischier
universe: nico hischier x clementine sandoval (the blue au)
warnings: swearing, mentions of stuff you'd typically see in the hospital (death, etc), author has never been to switzerland (but wants to!!), fluff! angst if you squint
title: "slut!" by taylor swift
word count: 23k (originally 27k but had to be cut down bc tumblr apparently has a limit of blocks per post??? lol)
author's note: long anticipated (official) part two to this little ditty. takes place pretty much right where the first part left off and goes until january 2025. i love clem. i love clem and nico. i love this whole world, and it loves all of you right back. thanks for all the love, truly. it means so much. here are some more slice of life moments that will probably rot your teeth because they're so sweet! enjoy and please let me know your thoughts!!
~*~*~
Devils fans love Nico Hischier, Clementine realizes, as she waits in a cafe across the back entrance of The Rock, looking outside as Nico takes the time to sign things and take pictures with the fans.
To some extent, after being in Jersey for a full season now, she knows how adored he is — the multitude of 13 jerseys during every game and how she has never heard a single bad thing said about him, whether that be as a person, captain or player. But right now, she’s smiling as he thanks the fans for their support when she knows he was devastated less than 48 hours prior.
This team, their fans and this community love their captain. They’d go to the ends of the world for him, she’s convinced.
She feels her phone buzz in her pocket. She pulls it out with a smile.
Nico Hischier
Meet me at my car in 5 mins? ❤️
She smiles, just liking the text before slinging her bag over her shoulders, grabbing her half finished coffee and going back to the counter to order a cappuccino for Nico. She thanks the barista when he’s done, grabs the cappuccino and goes back down to the parking garage.
Nico’s leaning against his car on his phone, but puts it away when he sees her walking to him. She shuffles over quickly and gives him a quick kiss. She doesn’t think she’ll get used to that.
“Hi.”
“Hey.” The fondness tinged at the short greeting isn’t new, Clementine knows now, but it makes her smile all the same. “Thanks for the coffee. Sorry I took so long,” he says, taking his coffee and opening the passenger door.
“You’re good,” she slides in and waits for him to get to the driver’s seat. “You doing alright?”
He starts the engine and looks over at her with a soft smile. “Yeah.”
“You sure?”
He reaches over to give her thigh a comforting squeeze after backing out. ‘I’m sure. I promise. Play some music.”
“Do you even like my music?”
“I listen to anything. You know that.”
She chuckles, plugging in her phone. “They love you.”
“Hm?”
“The fans. I was watching outside the windows of the cafe.”
He shrugs. “They’re always great. Have been good to me since I came into the league and have stuck by us.”
She looks at him thoughtfully. “They also have nothing but respect for their captain, who led them through the season extraordinarily well despite all the downs.” She leans her head on his arm for a few seconds. “I know it’s hard, but try not to blame yourself too much. You can’t and shouldn’t carry all that weight. The boys know that. The fans know that.”
He nods and looks over at her with a smile. “Gotten good at that throughout the years, hey? Comforting people after big losses.”
“Tell me about it.” She thinks back to when Quinn and Jack lost the gold medal match in 2019 at World Juniors and both times Luke’s dream of winning a national championship with Michigan fell short. And those are just the ones she can think of off the top of her head. “I’m serious though. It’ll come for you guys. I know it will.”
“Thanks, Schätzli.” Oh. That’s also a new development. The first time it slipped out, Nico had almost taken it back with wide, panicked eyes. But Clementine had promptly pulled him down to kiss her.
The team all chipped in to rent out a rooftop bar in Tribeca tonight to celebrate their season, the multitude of birthdays that occurred during the last part of the season that they couldn’t really celebrate at the time, and to just hang out before people start dispersing for the off-season. Therefore, Clementine purposefully volunteered for the overnight shift the day before and took a four hour nap before she tagged along to locker cleanout. She hid out in the cafe while they all had to do their end-of-season duties.
But they have a few hours to kill before heading into Manhattan, so the new couple spend the afternoon at Liberty State Park, enjoying the rare instance since the night of their first kiss where they’ve both been free. Clementine’s packed a small cooler with some tiny sandwiches, fruit and small bottles of wine. Nico lays out a blanket and Clementine toes off her sandals. It’s beautiful outside, and after she’s done munching on the food, she finds herself laying her head in Nico’s lap as he plays with her hair, talking about everything and nothing. Occasionally he just leans down to place a kiss on her forehead or cheek and she feels her throat closing up everytime at the sweetness of the gesture.
They have limited time before Nico heads back home to Switzerland. She’ll take all the moments she can get.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Uh oh,” she jokes. “Should I be nervous?”
“No, no, no. It’s just..maybe a bit of a weird question.”
“Nico. I deal with kids on a daily basis. And other residents who have no sense of boundaries. And Jack and Luke where all social cues are nonexistent. Almost nothing fazes me at this point.”
“Well, of course I’ve seen you around Jack and Luke so I know what your relationship is like with them. But how are you with Quinn?”
“Huh. Why do you ask?”
Nico twirls a piece of her hair around his finger. “They’ve mentioned a couple of times how I remind them of Quinn sometimes, which you know, I think is a compliment. I respect Quinn a lot as a player and he did a great job captaining that team this year. But, I don’t know. I’m just curious.”
Clementine smiles easily. “Luke’s my baby and Jack’s like the most annoying little brother you could ask for, but yeah. Quinn is..he’s also like a little brother, but he’s also my best friend. I think Quinn and I are the most similar in terms of how we think. So I guess that leads to a sense of…understanding? Like, on a different level than with Luke and Jack. And if you think I’m protective of Jack and Luke, I’m probably even worse with Quinn. He’s just always so busy looking after the other two that he sometimes forgets he needs to look out for himself too.”
“Then who looks after you?”
“Hm?”
“If you’re busy looking after those three, who looks after you?”
She sits up as he lets her hair fall from his fingers. She plops a strawberry in his mouth. “I don’t need anyone to look after me.”
“Those three don’t need anyone to look after them.” He points out.
“Lies. You think Luke and Jack are annoying now? They were ten times worse before. And you think Luca and Nina don’t still feel a responsibility to look after their little brother? I haven’t even met them and I think I know the answer.” She shrugs, hooking her chin on his shoulder. “I don’t mind, really. They also, in a way, look after me as well, especially as we’ve gotten older. But I don’t think I answered your question. I guess you’ll have to see Quinny and I together and see for yourself.”
He hums, kissing her forehead twice. “You gotta take some time to look after yourself too. You’re no use to them if you don’t.”
“I know. I think I’ve managed the balance well. And you’re partially right. I don’t need to look after them as much anymore, especially since now Quinny has a girlfriend who I still haven’t met and you look after Jack and Luke plenty.”
Nico snorts. “I’m sure you’ll get to meet Quinn’s girlfriend this summer.”
“If the fucker answered my calls, that would be a start,” she says. “Are you all packed to go yet?”
“Not at all.”
He literally leaves in two days. “God, you all really are the same breed. I bet I could pack all your shit in an hour. Maybe even less.”
He smirks. “Is that a challenge?”
“No. Pack your own stuff. You’re a grown man.”
He laughs, and they switch positions. Now his head is in her lap and she’s running her hand through his hair. She’s still learning things about Nico, but she’s pretty sure that he likes her playing with his hair more than she likes him playing with hers. He clears his throat. “And, um, I don’t need to pack yet. I’m staying in Jersey a bit longer.”
“Yeah? How much longer?”
“Like, June 7? So what is that..three weeks?”
She blinks. “Nico, I don’t-”
“This has nothing to do with you,” he says, before grimacing. “That’s not what I mean. It actually has a lot to do with you. But it was my choice. I’m in no rush to get back, in terms of training and all that. Plus, a bunch of the guys are staying for a bit too. And I want to spend time with you, because I do have…what did you say? ‘Impeccably shit timing.’”
“I just want to make it clear that you don’t have to stay just for me,” she assures softly. “I know you miss home and I understand the importance of an off season.”
He looks up at her earnestly, “Spending time with you is also important to me.”
Her heart soars as she traces his lips with her thumb. He catches her hand and kisses her knuckles. “Well, I’m not gonna complain about that.”
The rooftop bar that night is a fun time, even if she feels very much out of her tax bracket. She chats with pretty much everyone, much more comfortable than she was at the start of the season. People egg her on to share childhood stories of Jack and Luke, which she has plenty of. And even if they both groan and act embarrassed, she knows they love it. The drinks are plentiful and she likes seeing everyone let loose the way they can’t during the season. She’s sure the team is still disappointed from their season to some extent, so it’s nice to see them all smile and laugh and generally have a good time.
At some point in the night, she’s sitting by herself for some space, admiring the skyline with a ginger ale in her hands, taking a break from the alcohol she’s consumed tonight.
“Social butterfly finally tired out?”
She looks up to see Jack, cheeks flushed and hair adorably tousled, staring down at her. She scooches over to offer him a seat. “A bit. It just hit me that I’m running on four hours of sleep.”
He snorts, sitting down. ��Yeah, that’ll do it.” He tucks himself into her side like he used to do as a kid, taking her arm and using it as a pillow. “We still on for dinner tomorrow? Just me, you and Lukey?”
“Of course. I gotta get my fix in before you all leave me to hang with all your friends.”
Jack shoves her lightly. “We’re literally staying in Jersey until the end of the month. Or the Northeast, at least.”
“Okay, and Trevor literally flies in in two days. And then you and Luke’s friends are gonna rotate in and out. I’ll be lucky if I get a second of quiet at the apartment.”
Jack laughs, but then a worried look crosses his face. “I told them that under no circumstance can they enter your room without your permission. I don’t want them being here to fuck up your schedule.”
She waves him off. “It’s fine, Jack. I promise. Besides, I’ll just hide out at Nico’s if I need. Did he tell you that he’s staying a bit longer?”
His smirks. “He did. Mom invited him to spend the long weekend with us up in New Hampshire.”
“He didn’t mention that.”
“Probably because I literally just told him an hour ago when Mom texted me. You know this means he’s gonna be meeting Maeve, right?”
She blinks. “Shit, yeah. A bit soon, no?”
To her surprise, instead of agreeing or making fun of her, Jack just shrugs. “I don’t think so. You and Nico are the real deal.”
Her mouth drops open a bit in shock. “Oh.”
Jack just shoots her an award-winning grin. “And Maeve is gonna love him.”
That, Clementine thinks, is most definitely true,
As they drive home, she’s in the passenger seat with Luke and Jack in the back, quietly dozing off. Nico’s hand is on her thigh as she’s queuing songs up on her phone. Even after living in the city for almost a year now, she still finds herself in awe at the NYC skyline, especially on the rare chance she gets to see it from the angle of leaving the city in a car this late. Her attention is brought elsewhere when she feels a squeeze on her thigh. She looks at Nico and smiles.
(It’s hard to not smile when she looks at Nico)
“You have fun?” He asks softly, careful not to disturb the brothers in the back.
“Lots,” she responds. “Thanks for having me.”
“Of course,” he says. “I think there would have been an uproar if you hadn’t come. Everyone loves having you around.”
“Jack told me you’re invited to Memorial Day weekend celebrations in New Hampshire.”
“Yeah. It was sweet of Ellen to invite me. It’ll be fun to experience a classic summer weekend out here.” He suddenly looks at her, worried. “That’s okay, right? I don’t wanna intrude.”
“What? Of course it’s fine. It’s gonna be a chill weekend with good food and a lot of sun. You know you’re gonna be meeting my mom, right?”
“Is that a problem? Moms usually like me. Ellen likes me, I think.”
Clementine rolls her eyes. “No, I just, as long as you know.”
Nico looks over at her. “Your mom’s clearly important to you and raised a beautiful woman. I’m excited to meet her.” She swallows roughly. Nico changes topics easily. “Have you figured out your plans for the summer? How much vacation time do you have?”
“Not much. Maybe, like, two weeks at most. I’m still trying to figure it out. The boys invited me to Michigan, which would be fun. I haven’t been back there for a bit. Some of my friends from med school are going to meet back up in California at some point.”
“Two very different options.”
“Yeah. I probably need to figure it out soon though so I can request the leave.”
“Have you thought about Switzerland?”
She’s looking out her window, so she doesn’t see the hesitant but honest look on his face. “Showing me your hometown already, Cap?” She jokes
“If you want.” She whips her head to look at him. Oh. He’s serious. He backtracks. “I-I get if you think it’s too soon, but you’ve mentioned that you wanna go back. And I could show you around. Or we could go to other places in Europe too. I-I feel bad that I’m about to leave when we haven’t gotten quality time together which I know is partially my fault-”
She pushes her chin into his arm, looking up at him as he briefly looks down at her before focusing back on the road. “You’d be okay with that? Me coming to your hometown?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“We just started dating officially..what, like a month ago? Not even?” She looks to the backseat to ensure that Jack and Luke are still asleep, or are at least faking it to give them some sort of privacy. They are. She turns back around. “I don’t…I just don’t want you to feel like you- I-you’re really important to me,” she admits with a swallow. “I don’t wanna mess it up by moving too fast.”
“You’re not messing anything up,” Nico takes her hand and kisses the back of it. “I’m not gonna push you. It’s ultimately your decision. But I would absolutely love to show you around where I grew up and spend more time together.”
“Can I think about it?”
“Of course,” he assures. “Take all the time you need.”
She leans to kiss his cheek.
…..
“Switzerland?” Luke practically screeches. “To introduce you to his family?”
Clementine rolls her eyes, sliding him a glass of orange juice across the counter. Trevor giggles into his coffee and without looking, she smacks the back of his head.
“Switzerland because it’s beautiful and to spend time with my boyfriend,” Clementine says pointedly.
“Go frolic in Europe with your new boyfriend,” Trevor grins. “You deserve it. Jacky tells me you’re barely home.”
“I’m trying to become a doctor, Trev. I signed up for not having a life.”
“Exactly, which is an even better reason to go visit your hot boyfriend in Europe.” Jack and Luke give their old friend a weird look. Trevor just shrugs. “What? Your captain’s a good looking guy, and you’re delusional if you think differently.”
“I don’t care if Nico is the hottest person in the world. He’s kissing my sister. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that.” Luke says with a wrinkled nose.
Jack chuckles, ruffling his little brother’s hair. “Well, get used to it, Moose. And it’s kinda our fault. I mean, we’re the ones who wanted this all season. It’s fucking hilarious that they decided to start a relationship when they did though.” He comes up behind Clementine and pokes her side, rinsing his plate before putting it in the dishwasher. “Z’s right. You should go. Even if that means you wouldn’t be able to come to Michigan.”
“Aw, Clemmy’s missing the Michigan trip again?” Trevor whines. “Nevermind. Fuck your boyfriend.”
“I haven’t been to Michigan in three years so I don’t know what you’re whining about,” Clementine snorts. “And you can’t get rid of me that quickly. Especially because I, you know, live here and y’all are going to be around for who knows how long.” She taps Trevor’s phone on the counter to check the time. “Alright, I gotta head to the hospital. See you guys later.”
“Bye!”
“Love you.”
“See you tonight? What time will you be back?”
“11? Midnight the latest,” she grabs her pasta salad lunch from the fridge into her tote bag. “Have fun. Call if you need me. The usual.”
“Be safe,” Jack calls out. She clicks the door shut.
Her phone buzzes in her hand. She laughs out loud.
Quinny Hughes
Heard you’re going to Switzerland?
She rolls her eyes. It’s nice to know the brothers’ group chat is still as active and rapid as ever.
Clementine Sandoval
all three of you are actually the worst
and i’m older than all of you don’t be trying to parent me
Quinny Hughes
So you are going.
At least get us some good chocolate then.
Clementine Sandoval
lol i miss you
did you ever figure out if you’re coming to nh for memorial day?
it’s literally in two days i hope you have an answer
Quinny Hughes
Yeah I am. Especially now that you aren’t coming to Michigan this summer. Jack and Luke get to see you all the time it’s my turn.
And I’ll get to interrogate your new boyfriend.
Clementine Sandoval
sigh
are you at least bringing lauren
Quinny Hughes
Yup.
Clementine Sandoval
fantastic
finally another fucking girl
Quinny Hughes
Lol. See you soon❤️
Clementine smiles before starting her car.
…..
Two days later, Jack, Luke, Trevor, Nico and Clementine pile into Jack’s car to head up to the Hughes family’s lakehouse to spend the long weekend. She lets Luke have the passenger seat because it’s a five hour drive and he has the longest legs. Additionally, she finds great amusement in seeing Nico and Trevor interact and getting to sit in the middle of them and put her head on Nico’s shoulder and her legs over Trevor’s lap. Though, with Trevor’s constant yapping, Nico’s surprisingly unhinged stories, Jack’s loud laughter and Luke’s tendency to make a comment on everything, the drive goes by so damn slow that by the time they roll into the driveway, Clementine is practically shoving Trevor to get out of the car.
At the front door, Ellen’s laughing and Clementine rushes over to her second mother to give her a big hug.
Ellen rocks her back and forth. “It’s so good to see you, my girl.”
“You literally saw her three weeks ago?” Jack says, coming up behind them.
“Hide your jealousy better, Jacky,” Clementine teases. “It’s always good to see you, Ellen.” Jim comes up behind his wife and she beams. “Hi Jimmy!”
He laughs, wrapping her in a fatherly hug. “Hi Sunshine. El made sangria for everyone, and it’s still cold.”
Clementine lights up. “Oh amazing. I’ll grab a glass after I get my stuff.” She turns around to see Nico coming up the stairs with both his and her bags in his hands.
A knowing smile appears on Jim’s face. “Think that’s already covered.” She rushes to help him out but Nico just swats her away. Jim nods at Nico. “Good to see you again, Nico.”
“Good to see you too, Mr. Hughes,” he puts his bags down to shake Jim’s hand and hug Ellen, as Jack, Luke and Trevor clamber into the house. “Thank you both so much for having me.”
“Anytime, Nico!” Ellen beams. “And please, call us by our first names. You’re family, especially after recent developments.”
Clementine rolls her eyes as Nico immediately becomes flustered. “Really? Mom’s not even here yet.”
“Oh can you blame me, Clementine? Now I don’t have to hear Jack and Luke whine about when their sister and captain are going to get together.” Ellen says. “But I’ll be cool for now. Why don’t you show Nico up to your room and drop all your stuff off? Your mom picked up Quinn and Lauren from Logan and should be here any minute. Boys!” She calls out and Jack, Luke and Trevor magically appear and Clementine rolls her eyes. “Take your stuff up to your rooms so no one trips over your things. Trevor and Jack, you’re sharing.”
Trevor turns to Jack with a kissy face and Jack grimaces. “You and me, Jacky boy! Just like old times.”
“Get the fuck away from me,” Jack says dryly as Luke chuckles. Jack glares at his younger brother. “How come you get a solo room?”
“Because Quinn and Lauren are getting the other room.”
“And where is Maeve staying?”
“Probably in the basement so she doesn’t have to deal with all you guys.” Clementine retorts.
Jack turns to his parents. “You’re letting Clee and Nico share a room? And Quinn and Lauren?”
“We’re adults, you know?” Clementine sighs, pinching her nose. “You guys are exhausting. Move out of my way so we can get through.” She hears Nico stifle a laugh as they reluctantly clear a pathway. “Somehow they’re even more annoying during off-season than during the season,” she says as they climb up the stairs.
“It’s fine,” Nico chuckles. “It’s nice. The chaos, I mean. Tells a lot about who you are.”
“Don’t associate me with those fools,” Clementine says with no heat as she pushes open the door to the room in this house that’s always been designated as hers. “Here we are.”
Nico puts the bags down and immediately scans some of the photos framed on the wall. He ‘aww’s and she turns around to find him staring at the one of her and the boys during her UCLA graduation. “You guys are such babies here.”
“A week before Jack got drafted,” Clementine recalls fondly. “The boys surprised me. I didn’t think they were gonna come because they had so much hockey stuff going on.”
“You went to all their drafts, right?” Nico says. Clementine nods. “So of course they were there during one of your biggest moments.” Nico points to another photo of both families when they were all at this exact lake house. Her dad’s in this one. “When was this taken?”
“2013.” Clementine smiles sadly. “It was the last summer my dad came here. I know it’s one of Ellen’s favorites. Mine too.”
Nico hums, kissing her temple gently before scanning the rest of the room. It’s mostly white with some rustic elements, splashes of tan and ocean blue in the comforter and the sparse decorations. “Would I be right in assuming that this room hasn’t changed much since you were young?”
“It’s definitely cleaner,” Clementine laughs. “I know Jim and El use it as a guest room, but whenever I get the chance to come back, they say it’s mine.” There’s the sound of the front door opening and a cacophony of greetings floating through the room. She turns her body towards him and looks up at him. “Are you sure about this?”
“Well, even if I wasn’t, it’s a bit too late now, isn’t it?” He says. She pokes him in the side. He leans down to gently peck her lips twice. “Why are you so nervous? Shouldn’t I be the one who’s nervous?”
She chuckles. “Yeah, yeah. You’re right. Let’s go down.”
They walk down the stairs, Nico close behind her but not quite touching her. Clementine beams as she watches her mom hug Luke and put her hands on his cheeks before greeting Jack in the same way. She knows her mom doesn’t ever miss seeing the Devils or the Canucks when they’re playing the Bruins in Boston, but that only totals to usually only three games a season.
Clementine thinks a lot about how she sees Jim and Ellen as her parents. It’s during these moments does she remember that the boys see her mom the exact same way.
Maeve’s eyes flit up to the stairs and she raises an eyebrow. “My beautiful daughter. You look exhausted.”
Clementine snorts. “Thanks, Mom.” She descends down the last step and hugs her mother tightly, breathing in the scent that has comforted her on the best and worst days. She catches Quinn’s eye over Maeve’s shoulder as Trevor is chatting in his ear and she can’t help but grin.
Maeve pulls away and eyes Nico, a half smile on her face. “And you must be the infamous Nico.”
Nico chuckles, eyes widening momentarily as Maeve pulls him into a hearty hug. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Sandoval.”
Maeve lets out an affronted noise. “None of that. Call me Maeve. You European boys and your politeness.” Clementine laughs under her breath. “It’s so nice to meet you! My daughter hasn’t mentioned how handsome you are.”
“Probably because she’s the one carrying in the looks department of the relationship.” Nico grins charmingly and Clementine feels so fucking fond.
She then begins to leave her boyfriend and her mom to converse and turns to Quinn. Time with Quinn is always scarce. She leans up to wrap her arms around his neck. “Hey Q.”
“Hey Clem.”
Clementine turns to the beautiful girl next to him. “And you must be Lauren. It’s nice to finally meet you.” She also pulls the girl into a hug. “Quinn’s been keeping you away from me.”
Quinn shoots his older sister a dirty look. “That’s not true. It’s not my fault you don’t live in California any more.”
“It’s nice to meet you too,” Lauren says softly. “Quinn’s told me so much about you. I love your pants.”
Clementine looks down at her cream flowy pants with a wide smile. “Oh thank you! You’re gorgeous. How in the world did Quinn land you?”
Lauren laughs as Quinn groans. “Clem.”
“I’m kidding!” She ruffles his hair. “Damn, let me have my fun. I don’t get to do this often. And don’t pretend that you’re not about to grill Nico this entire weekend.”
“She’s got you there,” Lauren says with a laugh.
Trevor comes up inbetween the girls. “Have you met this one yet?” Clementine asks.
Lauren nods. “I have. Kinda. Hi Trevor. Quinn’s also told me a lot about you.”
Trevor’s eyes widen as he pulls Lauren into a side hug. “Never listen to anything Quinn says about me. He’s mean to me.”
“You guys are all mean to each other,” Clementine rolls her eyes. “I don’t know what point you’re trying to make.”
Maeve claps her hands. “Out of the doorway and into the backyard, everyone! El made sangria and it’s too nice to be inside.” She picks up her bags but is swatted away by Luke, who takes the bags from her hands. Maeve kisses him on the cheek. “Thanks, honey.”
Jack rolls his eyes as they all start walking towards the kitchen. “We get it, Maeve. Luke is your favorite.” Ellen gives him a warning look as Quinn snorts.
“You know,” Maeve starts. “I was about to tell you how glad I am to see you. But with that comment, I’ll abstain.” Jack pouts and Maeve rolls her eyes but messes up his hair fondly.
Nico places his hand on Clementine’s back and leans down to mutter in her ear. “I see where you get your sass from.”
Clementine chuckles under her breath. “You gotta have some sass to deal with them. My mom’s the blueprint.”
Everyone grabs a glass of sangria before they migrate outside. Clementine finds herself sitting in between Lauren and Luke, Nico sitting by her legs with everyone else in various chairs or on the grass in some sort of circle. Clementine automatically carding her fingers though Nico’s hair as she speaks to Lauren and Quinn. She still can’t believe they’ve been dating for over a year and she’s only met Lauren now.
If she was still in California, she would’ve flown her ass to Vancouver and parked herself at Quinn’s apartment at the first chance she had.
While she’s listening in on a conversation between Nico, Quinn and Trevor, she catches both her mom and Ellen’s eyes on her. She narrows her eyes. She sees her mom not-so-subtly eyeing her hand in Nico’s hair and him leaning back against her legs.
Jack notices, looking between the two of them with a smirk. “Thoughts, Maeve?”
“Jack,” Clementine says in a warning tone. Nico squeezes her ankle in reassurance.
“I didn’t even say anything!”
Maeve chuckles, and Clementine sees her smile, the same smile that everyone says she also has. “Nothing in particular. Just thinking about how fun your time in Jersey has probably been so far.”
Clementine bites her lip, closed lipped-smile threatening to burst through the seams. “It could be worse.”
As expected, Jack rolls his eyes and Luke gives her a dirty look. “Well, what could make it better?” Luke asks.
“If you guys cooked more for me.”
Quinn looks at his brothers with a disapproving look. “You’re making Clem cook for all of you? Guys, come on. She’s busier than all of us combined.”
Jack’s jaw drops wide open as Trevor cackles. “That’s not even true! We cook for you. Just not as much because you’re just a better cook. And you always have leftovers.” Jack reaches over to whack Clementine’s shoulder. “Stop making us look like bad roommates.”
Clementine chuckles to herself. She has a lot of favorite things in life, but making fun of her brothers and throwing them under the bus has to be at the top.
Nico looks up at her and she has to stop herself from leaning down and kissing him silly. “That cake you baked me for my birthday is still the best dessert I’ve had in awhile.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re just being nice. And, I baked another one for Jack and Luke, which circles back to my point.”
Ellen starts lightly scolding her two youngest for not cooking more and Clementine snickers as she feels Nico’s shoulders shake as he’s trying to hold back his laugh. She drops his hands from his hair and instead leans forward, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck. He automatically grabs her wrists and keeps his hands there. She places a quick kiss to the side of his head.
(Without their knowledge, Maeve catches the romantic motion. She doesn’t even bother to hide her smile.)
It’s not the first time she’s seen Nico around the people she loves, but that whole weekend, she watches him and her mom get along so well, him offer to help out Ellen and Jim for meals, him shove Trevor into the lake when he’s being an absolute pest, him sitting down with Quinn by the fire one night a bit away from everyone to talk about something that neither Quinn or Nico will tell her about so she knows it’s about her.
He slips so easily into the most important part of her life. Clementine doesn’t quite love him yet, but she’s real close.
Their last night, as they’re getting ready to sleep, Clementine's just staring at Nico from her bed as he’s in the bathroom brushing his teeth. He catches her eye in the mirror and smiles, but toothpaste dribbles down his chins causing him to curse and her to laugh.
When he climbs under the covers, she places her head on his chest. “Thanks.”
“For?”
“Coming here. I’m sure it’s a lot.”
“It’s not,” he assures gently. “Why would it be?”
She shrugs, because he’s right, in a sense. “Families are always a lot, no matter how good they are. And I know Quinn and Jimmy grilled you way more than necessary.”
“Baby,” he rubs up and down her arm. “I knew that was gonna happen as soon as I was invited here. They were more than fine. Jack and Luke’s threats were way worse.”
“They’re annoying.”
“They love you,” he says. “And they’re protective of you. I get it. I’m the same way with Nina.”
She shifts so she’s eye level with him. “About that…”
“Hm?”
“I got the okay from my supervisors to take two weeks off.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Can I still come to see you in Switzerland?” She asks, biting her lip, nervous all of a sudden.
Nico kisses her soundly. “Of course,” he mutters against her lips. “Yes. When?”
“I was thinking early July?”
“To spend your birthday?”
“If you’ll have me.”
He squeezes her exaggeratingly, making her giggle. “You’re silly. Of course. Is there anywhere you really wanna go?”
“I mean, I’ll go anywhere.”
“I can take you all around Switzerland. Give you the grand tour.”
“That sounds perfect,” she swallows before bringing up something that’s very important to her. “I’m paying half.”
Nico counters back immediately. “One third.”
She scoffs. She was prepared for this disagreement. “Half.”
“Hey,” he kisses the top of her head. “You’re coming to see me. The least I can do is handle all of that.”
“You’re housing me and taking me around. I’m paying for half.”
“Nope.”
“Nico. I am perfectly capable of paying for myself.”
“You pay for your own plane tickets and I got the rest.”
“I pay for my own plane tickets and meals and then you got the rest.”
“Schätzli. Let me take care of it, yeah? I want to. And I’m perfectly capable of doing so.”
“I don’t want you to think I’m a gold digger,” Clementine says with a bit of a whine, making Nico snort.
“I know you’re not a gold digger. If you were, you’d actually let Jack pay for you more. You know he makes more than I do, right?”
“Weird flex.”
“You pay for your plane tickets and some meals,” he compromises. “Save the rest up for something else. Buy Luke a new suit for his birthday or something.”
She chuckles. “He does need one.”
“Exactly.”
Clementine lets out relenting a sigh. She’ll just have to sneak her card in here or there. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yeah. I just really don’t want you to think I’m mooching off you or anything.”
“I’ve never thought of it like that at all, I promise,” he assures. She settles back against his chest again. “I’m so excited for you to come.”
“I hope your family doesn’t hate me.”
“They won’t.” And he says it so confidently that she has to believe him. “No one could hate you. Besides, Nina’s been dying to meet you and Luca wants to know the ‘girl who’s voluntarily dealing with my shit.’”
She laughs, turning to shut off the lamp. “Still. You’re their baby brother.”
He pouts. “I’m not a baby.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m convinced.” She yawns, tossing a blanket over them both. “We should sleep. Gotta have energy to deal with the hooligans in the car tomorrow.”
He laughs, kissing her forehead. “Goodnight.”
*****
Clementine offers to drive Nico to the airport before she goes to the hospital, even though he tries to vehemently fight her on it. Clementine ultimately wins the argument, wanting to spend as much time as possible before he leaves.
“It’s only a month,” she reminds him as she kills the engine at the curbside of the departure terminal at Newark Liberty International Airport, biting her lip to also assure herself.
He leans over the console to kiss her sweetly. “I know,” he murmurs against her lips. “That’s a long time though.”
She runs a hand through his hair. He leans into it instinctively. “I’ll be there with you before you know it. You’ll be having too much fun catching up with family and friends to even think about me.”
“Not true.” She rolls her eyes with a smile as they both climb out of the car. Nico finishes unloading his luggage from the trunk as he carries it to the curb. Clementine’s amazed that no one has yelled at them for parking by the curbside too long yet.
She wraps her arms around his neck and hugs him tightly, leaning her head on his chest and breathing in deeply, trying to memorize his scent. “I’ll miss you.”
“I miss you already,” he mutters into her hair. “I’ll call.”
“You fucking better,” she shoots back with no bite. “Have fun, okay? Enjoy your time off.”
He kisses her one more time, which turns into three more times. Clementine bites her lower lip as he backs away to try not to cry. He brushes his thumb against her cheek. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”
She nods with a shaky smile. “Yeah. Text me before you take off.”
“Of course.” He clasps his hand on his suitcase handles and backs away with a sweet smile. “Bye, baby.”
After he walks through the doors, she promptly drives herself to the train station, music playing louder than normal to hopefully drown out her own loud thoughts. She parks to see a text from Nico saying that he’s at the gate, a horribly-angled selfie of him and a coffee he must’ve bought.
Clementine saves it.
…..
It’s only been eleven days since Nico flew back to Switzerland. They text everyday and FaceTime when the time differences allow. She always wakes up to a good morning text and a mini photo dump of pictures he’s taken that day. Sometimes they’re of the beautiful sights of Bern or Naters or wherever he is. Sometimes they’re literally just a picture of his toast for breakfast. But they’re nice to receive. And at his urging, she sends similar photo dumps back. His favorites are the selfies she takes at work. Bonus points if she’s wearing the scrubs he got her for Christmas.
She goes to the hospital. She spends sporadic time with Quinn, Jack, Luke and other stragglers who show up at the apartment before they all head back to Michigan or wherever else. Nico relaxes with his friends and family.
She misses him like a limb.
…..
Clementine’s phone rings as she’s sipping on her coffee while sitting at a cafe by the hospital. She raises an eyebrow when she sees who’s calling.
“Quinn. Hey.”
“Hi Clem. Are you busy?”
“You have me for about 15 minutes. What’s up?” She hears a sniffle and immediately she sits up straighter. “Quinny? Is everything okay?”
“Lauren and I broke up.”
She squeezes her eyes shut. “Fuck. Oh Quinn, I’m so sorry. When did this happen?”
“Earlier this morning. She-she called it off. Over the phone.”
“Over the phone?” Clementine tries to level her voice and judgment. “Wasn’t she just in Michigan?”
“She left last week.”
“Fuck, Quinn. How are you feeling?”
“I just, I’m just really sad, I guess. And a bit confused.” She gives him a moment to think. “I know she was voicing concerns about the distance and stuff, but we had talked about it and I thought we had come to a conclusion. I guess we left that conversation feeling very differently.”
Clementine picks at her nails, “What was her reasoning? Did she have any?”
“She said the distance wasn’t worth it anymore.” Quinn trails off and Clementine puts it together, her heart breaking for him as she finishes the thought for him.
That Quinn wasn’t worth it anymore.
Clementine grinds her teeth together. “Fuck her,” she says. “I know that’s not what you want to hear right now, but I’m serious. What the fuck? She just suddenly decided that after dating for over a year that she couldn’t do it anymore?”
“Yeah. I’m confused about that too. When she was talking and explaining her reasoning over the phone I was just, like, shell-shocked. I think I froze. She was bringing up things that she hadn’t ever brought up before and I don’t know, it just felt like she had made the decision to break up with me before I even picked up the phone. It wouldn’t have mattered what I said.”
“That’s shitty, Quinny. How unfair.”
“I mean,” she knows he’s shrugging on the other side of the phone. She wishes she could hug him. “I know I wasn’t the perfect boyfriend and there were underlying issues, but I-I tried my best.”
“I know, Quinn. I know,” Clementine sighs. How do you comfort one of your best friends through heartbreak when you can’t actually be there? “Q, I’m so sorry. I have to head back to work, but I’ll call you tonight, okay?”
“Oh. That’s okay. You don’t have to. Thanks for listening anyways.”
“I’ll call you back tonight. I promise. I love you. Hang in there.”
“Thanks, Clem. Love you too.”
Clementine manages to do one thing she does very well, which is push something out of her mind and focus on the task at hand. The second she clocks out of the hospital, on her commute back to Hoboken, she thinks through how she wants to talk this through with Quinn. It’s not her first time talking someone through a break-up, so she’s learned a few tricks and phrases here and there. Like most things, it just comes with repetition.
But this is also Quinn. Her best friend. All her previous experience might not work and might not even matter.
She calls him as soon as she finishes her shower. She lets him talk for over two hours to the point where she has to adjust her position on the couch to be near an outlet so her phone can charge.
There’s nothing really to say in a situation like this, as Quinn details what sounds a lot like heartbreak. She wishes she was in Michigan and could give him the tightest hug. Watching and hearing his sniffles through the phone has her throat closing up and all she can do is listen.
But as she climbs into her bed that night, she lets out a breath. She’s sure it hurts so much now, but Quinn will find a way.
He always does.
…..
Clementine’s phone reads 6:28 a.m. local time when she lands in Zurich. She yawns as she watches the plane taxi to their gate, Taylor Swift’s “august” playing softly in her ears. Somehow, the two seats next to her were empty so she had her own row the whole flight, meaning she got to go up and pee without bothering a single person.
She turns on her phone, and texts the chat with the Hughes / Sandoval families that she’s landed, before thumbing over to her thread with Nico. He sent a text eight minutes ago.
Nico Hischier
At the arrivals area. Can’t wait to see you ❤️
Clementine Sandoval
just landed!!! can’t wait to squeeze you
Immigration and customs goes quickly, even if Clementine finds herself tapping her foot in line. She can already feel the heat of the Switzerland summer air seeping into her skin and she tugs off her sweatshirt, happy that she has a t-shirt underneath. Once she grabs her luggage from the carousel, she takes a deep breath, wheeling her suitcase through to the arrivals hall. Her eyes dart around to try and spot her boyfriend. It doesn’t take long.
The grin spreads on her face when she sees Nico. He’s wearing an olive green t-shirt that’s seen better days and dark jeans topped off with those scuffed up Nikes that he always seems to wear.
He’s holding a bouquet of wildflowers wrapped in newspaper, the sweetest smile peeking over. Clementine feels her heart threatening to burst out of her chest.
She almost knocks her suitcase over as she throws her arms around him. She feels him chuckle and place a kiss on the side of her head. “Hi Schätzli,” he says softly.
“Hi,” she pulls back and kisses him. But they’re both grinning too much to kiss properly. She holds his cheeks in her hand, happy to just be around him after a month. “I’ve missed you.”
“Missed you more,” he grins. “You look so beautiful.”
Clementine snorts because her Stanford t-shirt tied with her hair tie in the front and the black leggings with her Adidas definitely scream ‘I’ve been on a transatlantic flight and I need to shower.’
“I look like I just was on a plane for 8 hours,” she says dryly.
“Beautiful,” Nico says firmly as he takes the backpack off her shoulders and grabs her suitcase, giving her the flowers to hold. “For you”
She sniffs the flowers and smiles. “Thank you. You didn’t have to get me these. They’re so pretty.”
“You’re so pretty,” he replies simply. That’s twice in 30 seconds. He turns to look at her again as they walk out to the parking lot. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
“Thank you for driving all this way. I know it’s early and far.”
“Of course. I just want to see you.”
It doesn’t feel like it’s been a month as Nico starts the drive to Bern to his sister’s place where they’re staying for a few days. The sun’s high in the sky despite the early hour, and Clementine happily sips on the coffee and munches on the croissant Nico had graciously gotten her. They catch up on each other’s weeks like they have been over the phone when they’ve been almost 4,000 miles apart. They talk about the teenager who recognized Nico the other day when Nico and his friends were playing a game of pick-up soccer and how they all played until sundown and Clementine having to step in to assist in a higher than average number of surgeries the last month, as well as having to work the Fourth of July. She holds his hand the entire time and both of them can’t seem to stop the smile from spreading across their lips.
She’s here. In the most beautiful country. With the most wonderful person.
“How are you feeling?” Nico asks. “Are you really tired?”
“I’m okay.” She yawns. “Even if I am, I’m not sleeping until at least 9 tonight. I’m not wasting time here by being jetlagged and sleeping at weird times.”
Nico laughs. “Fair. But it’s okay if you’re tired for a few days. I always am.”
“No wasted time,” she says, poking his shoulder on every word.
“If you say so,” he grins. “My mom’s making a huge breakfast for us when we get back and everyone’s excited to meet you.”
Suddenly, Clementine is nervous again. “She didn’t have to do that.”
“She wanted to,” he assures. “I haven’t brought a girl back home in…ever, really. They’re probably more excited to meet you than you are to meet them.”
“No pressure at all,” she says dryly.
He looks over at her and squeezes her hand. “You’ll win them over in minutes.” Clementine hums before Nico continues. “If Jack could somehow have them all liking him in a day, you’re gonna be perfectly fine. You’re all the best parts of him and more anyways.” She reaches over to fix a strand of his hair and she wants to smirk at the light blush that paints his cheeks. He clears his throat, “I was thinking of taking it easy today, just walking around the town and exploring the area a bit. And then dinner at my favorite place in town?”
“Sounds perfect to me.”
“I can’t believe you’re here,” he says breathily. “I, just…I can’t believe it.”
She grins, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “Well believe it, pretty boy.”
(His stomach flips at being called ‘pretty boy.’ She hasn’t said that one yet. Two months after they’ve officially started dating and he still feels like a teenage boy with the biggest crush on the prettiest girl in school)
They pull up to Nina’s place and Clementine feels like she’s in a dream. Bern is beautiful everywhere you look. It’s almost like she’s in a picture book of a fairytale. She stretches and rises on her tiptoes to kiss Nico on the cheek to thank him for grabbing her luggage. She tugs at his t-shirt and he stops to turn to her, momentarily confused. She just wrap her arms around his waist again, wanting to feel him before they’re surrounded by his family. He chuckles, rubbing her back and kissing the top of her head three times.
As they’re walking up the steps to the front door, it swings open as Katja, Nico’s mother, beams. “You guys made it! Hello!”
Clementine can’t help but smile back. “Hi,” she shifts the flowers so that she can shake Katja’s hand, but Katja doesn’t bother and just wraps her into a hug. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs. Hischier. Thank you so much for having me.”
“Thank you for coming all this way,” Katja’s eyes shift to Nico, who’s a few steps behind with Clementine’s luggage. “Nico tells us good things.”
She chuckles and ducks her head. “I think your son is a bit too nice to me.”
“Ignore her, Mama,” Nico says as they all walk into the house. “The only person who doesn’t know she’s the best is herself.”
There’s footsteps coming down the stairs. Clementine’s met immediately with Nina’s smile. It’s the exact same as her mother and her brother’s and she is absolutely stunning. Luca is behind his sister as well with a matching grin. And Rino, who Clementine suddenly realizes is where Nico gets so many of his facial features from, just stands to the side with a small smile.
“You’re here!” Nina exclaims. Nico says something quick in Swiss German which Nina rolls her eyes at before she pulls Clementine into a tight hug. “It’s so nice to meet you, Clementine. We’ve heard so much.”
“Yeah,” Luca echoes. “I’ve never seen Nico so excited about someone.”
Nico groans and Clementine hugs Luca with a giggle before nudging her boyfriend. “He’s not so bad either.” She turns to shake Rino’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Hischier. Thank you for having me.” Rino shakes her hand with a warm smile before Nico pinches her side and pulls her closer.
“Okay, breakfast is almost ready!” Katja claps her hands. “Nico, why don’t you show Clementine to your room? Luca and Nina, come help me finish up. Oh! I can take those flowers from you. Did Nico get you those?”
Clementine giggles as she hands them over. “He did.”
Katja pats Nico’s cheek in such a motherly way that it makes Clementine’s heart ache in the best way. “I did raise a sweet one.”
Nico groans. “Mama.” Clementine makes eye contact with Nina and they both burst out laughing. “Come on. You can take a quick shower and then we’ll come back down.”
Clementine shoots a quick grin at Katja, Rino, Nina and Luca before following Nico upstairs. She decides to jump into the shower quickly and rinse off, partially to wake her up, mostly to wash the grime of the plane off of her. Nico’s sitting on the bed scrolling through her phone when she comes back out, hair wet and dressed in a light sweater and linen shorts.
“The fact that there’s a window in the shower looking over the mountains is so unfair,” she says, combing her fingers through her wet hair.
Nico chuckles. “Pretty, hey?”
“Very,” she yawns. “Come on. Don’t wanna leave your family waiting.”
Breakfast is absolutely delicious and filled with warm conversation, mainly filled with the Hischier family asking Clementine questions about herself, which she happily answers inbetween way too much bread, butter and coffee. Nico tries to intercept a few times (“This isn’t an interrogation, Luca”) but she just waves him off. It’s not like she likes talking about herself, but when being surrounded by people everyday who know the ins and outs of her career, it’s refreshing to have people take interest in what she does who don’t work in the medical field at all.
After breakfast, Clementine and Nico venture into the town and Clementine is all smiles. The sun is out but it’s not too hot where she aches for shade like she does back in the US. She had changed into a dress after breakfast and doesn’t regret it, resisting the urge to twirl around the streets. It doesn’t hurt that Nico looks at her in a way that makes her giddy.
As they’re walking through the scenic old town, it’s obvious how relaxed Nico is. Away from New Jersey and the expectations that come with being the captain of the sole professional sports team from Garden State, Nico looks like every other guy in his mid twenties. It’s not like he isn’t happy in New Jersey, but there’s something freeing in the way he walks, his shoulders free from the weight he carries during the season.
They walk in the sun leisurely, stop by a few shops that look interesting to Clementine and grab coffee and pastries from a cafe that Nico apparently frequents often, judging by how friendly he is with the staff. She hasn’t really gotten to hear Nico speak his native language that often so she enjoys hearing him switch so effortlessly.
“You look happy,” Nico comments as they’re taking a break and sitting on a bench to people watch.
She tears her eyes away from an adorable family to meet Nico’s warm, brown eyes. “Do I?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I am. Are you?”
He presses a kiss to her temple and she leans her cheek against his shoulder. “Very much so.”
“Did I pass the test?” She teases. “Your family doesn't hate me?”
“Stop,” he says with a smile. “They love you. I can tell. I think my mom fell in love with you the second you talked about growing up with the boys.”
“Really?”
“She has a soft spot for sibling relationships. She always tells us how she’s glad me, Luca and Nina get along so well.”
“They’re great, by the way, your family,” she says. “Much less chaotic than mine, which is definitely a good thing. But really, really cool. I…” She trails off at the sight of a stray soccer ball.
Nico’s eyebrows furrow before he follows her eyeline. He chuckles and gets up, holding out a hand for her. “Come on. Let’s do some passing.”
She lights up at the idea of passing around a ball with the mountains in the background on a fairly large, grassy area. The most picturesque image you could find, she thinks. She takes his hand and scurries over, getting her feet familiar with the ball as he backs away a few feet.
They start some basic passing as they’re mindful of the fact that she’s wearing a dress. Clementine never saw soccer as more than a form of exercise in her youth, but she sometimes wishes she had time to join a rec league or something of that level in college and afterwards. The few people she keeps in touch with still in Toronto are mostly thanks to her club soccer days.
She’s definitely rusty, but it’s good to go through the familiar motions again. She wrinkles her nose when Nico pulls off an impressive move. “This is unfair. Are you good at every sport?”
He just shrugs modestly, before passing the ball back to her. “I definitely don’t look at ease with this ball on my feet like you do. How long did you play for?”
“Like, over 10 years?” She executes some footwork and smiles in satisfaction. “Played pretty intensely all the way up until I was 18.”
“I can tell,” he smiles. “My dad would be impressed.”
She snorts. “Don’t be ridiculous. I was never good enough to play at the collegiate level, much less professional.”
“It’s interesting that you do that.”
She stops the ball with her foot. “Do what?”
“Downplay your achievements.”
Clementine blinks a few times. “What do you mean?” But she knows exactly what he means.
Nico lets out a light snort, “You know what I mean. You’re probably the smartest and most interesting and talented person I’ve ever met. Even when you were talking to my family about your residency, you were talking about it like it isn’t a big deal. But it is a big deal. And it’s really fucking cool. And you’re so smart and quick and…I don’t know. I wish you would show off more, even though I know that’s not your style.”
She smirks. “You want me to show off?” Without waiting for an answer, she concentrates on the ball at her feet and looks up at the goal. She dribbles the ball a few seconds before striking it in the top right corner. She huffs, satisfied that she didn’t whiff it, laughing as Nico tackles her and lifts her up in a hug.
The next two days are spent in Bern, as Clementine fights the jetlag while her camera roll fills up. The Hischier siblings bring her around and she just soaks up the sunshine, views, and attractions. She especially loves flowing down the river on boats like the most seamless lazy river that just runs through the city, because you can’t really get that in the US. Nico continues bringing her around to his favorite hidden spots and to his favorite shops and restaurants, all with his hand in hers and the most beautiful smile on his face.
After Clementine says goodbye to Katja and Rino, the four of them take two cars to Zurich, Luca and Nina staying with friends while her and Nico rent out their own place. They arrive at a beautiful, spacious apartment that overlooks the center of Zurich. Clementine’s birthday is tomorrow and she has no idea what the plan is because she trusted Nico when he said he would handle it, but she’s a planner, so she can’t help but bring it up as they’re relaxing before heading out for dinner.
“Nico?”
“Yeah?” He calls out from the bathroom.
“Can you give me a hint on what we’re doing tomorrow?”
He peeks his head out of the bathroom with a smile. “I was wondering when you were gonna ask.”
She shrugs. “I trust you. But you know I’m nosy.”
Nico chuckles. “Yeah,” he comes out of the bathroom and takes his phone out of his pocket. Once unlocked, he tosses it at her. He’s lucky she has okay reflexes.
She raises an eyebrow at him before looking at his phone. Immediately, she gasps and drops the phone as it lands on the carpet on the floor. “Nico.”
“Yeah?”
“Nico,” she repeats, breathless. “You’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
“Taylor Swift? How long have you had these? How did you even get them?”
He comes over to sit on the arm of the sofa. “Nina’s a big fan. When you said you were gonna coming here for your birthday, she mentioned that Taylor Swift was gonna be in town at the same time. I pulled a few strings.”
She picks up the phone and swipes through the tickets, shellshocked. “Seven tickets?”
“Me, you, Nina, one of her friends, Luca and two of his friends. I guess they’re all kind of my friends too. I hope that’s okay?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed worriedly.
“Nico, shut up. I’m gonna see my favorite artist live and I wanna meet your friends. Of course it’s okay,” she tackles him onto the couch as he laughs. “I-I can’t believe…thank you. Oh my god.”
“Good birthday present?” He jokes.
She kisses him fondly. “I don’t know how I’m gonna beat this for yours.”
“Stop,” he murmurs, deepening the kiss. “I’m supposed to ask you if you have something to wear and if not, that you and Nina can find something tonight or tomorrow morning.”
She thinks of the light pink sequin dress she had thrown into her suitcase last minute, grateful for her past self’s decision. “I think I have something, but if I see something when we’re walking around later, I’ll let you know.” She holds his face in her hands. “Thank you. Seriously. First the whole trip and then this. I’ll pay you back for the tickets as-”
“No you won’t,” he says against her lips. She pulls back and gives him an unimpressed look. “I barely paid for them. It would be unfair to ask you to. It’s your birthday. It’s my present to you.”
Let other people do things for you for once, Clem, Quinn’s voice echoes through her head. He’s said multiple iterations of it throughout the years, but this one in particular she can envision, at dinner right after the Canucks played San Jose back in her Stanford days. That was about something simpler — arguing over who was paying for dinner — but the sentiment remains the same.
“Fine. But I’m paying for everyone’s dinner tonight.”
“Of course,” he beams.
“I mean it,” she warns.
“I know.”
She slaps his shoulder with a smile. “You fucker. I can’t believe you got those tickets.”
“27 is gonna be a good year, hey?”
She launches herself into his arms.
Yeah, it is.
…..
Clementine wakes up on her birthday to Nico pressing kisses all over her face as she squeals and wiggles around. She stretches and her arm whacks him in the face, causing him to groan. She kisses him as an apology.
“Happy birthday, honey,” he says, hovering over her with a light smile. “I can hear your bones cracking already.”
“I will push you off the bed.”
“Empty threats.”
She yawns. “How much time before everyone gets here?”
“Like, two hours? Why?”
“Perfect,” she says, pulling him closer to kiss him feverishly. He lets out a soft moan and she melts into a puddle
An hour and a half later, Clementine fiddles with the coffee maker in the kitchen as everyone starts filing in. Nina is first to bounce over and gives Clementine a big hug, wishing her a happy birthday. She meets their friends and glares at Luca as he places a large bag on the table with tissue paper peeking out of it. She doesn’t need birthday presents. But it’s sweet they thought of her anyways.
After lunch at a nearby outdoor cafe that Clementine falls in love with, everyone heads back. The guys venture out to the balcony while she, Nina and Anika, Nina’s friend, quickly make some friendship bracelets and start getting ready. Clementine’s almost done curling Nina’s hair when Nico peeks his head in, lighting up at the open box of beads on the table. He scurries in to grab the supplies and takes them outside without a word.
Anika, who’s been doing Nina’s makeup while Clementine’s been doing her hair, grins. “You two are cute together.”
“Oh, thank you.” Clementine looks up to flash a quick smile before focusing on not burning Nina or herself.
“I’ve known Nico since he was a baby,” Anika says. “Always the younger one, he was chasing us all the time. Wanted to do everything we were doing. But it was Nico and he was so sweet, so we never said no.”
Clementine chuckles. “Yeah, I get that feeling. Not that my brothers necessarily wanted to do everything I did, but they were never far behind me when we were young.”
“Right,” Anika dabs the liquid blush on Nina’s cheeks. “That’s how you and Nico met, right? Your brothers play with him in New Jersey?”
“Yeah.”
Clementine’s taken aback tone must show because Nina smiles at her through the mirror. “My brother has talked about you quite a bit since he’s come back.”
That makes Clementine look down a bit abashed. “I guess they aren’t technically my brothers,” she clarifies. “I just grew up with them.”
“So like me and Nina here.”
“Yeah. Exactly like that.”
“Do you play hockey?” Anika asks, stepping back as she finishes Nina’s makeup.
Clementine snorts, spraying hairspray into Nina’s hair. “No. You do not want to see me on skates. I played soccer. Or football, I guess.”
“But you enjoy watching it?”
The conversation momentarily pauses as Clementine is ushered into the hot seat. Nina unplugs the curler and plugs in the straightener (“I want to try something”) as Anika takes a look at Clementine’s makeup products.
“I do,” Clementine says. “Enjoy watching hockey, I mean. I don’t know if that would be the same if I wasn’t so closely connected with the sport personally, but I do enjoy it. It’s more comforting now than anything.”
“I still remember the day Nico got drafted,” Nina says wistfully. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.”
“And I remember everyone here staying up to watch it,” Anika adds. “There were people piling into the streets after in celebration.”
Clementine grins. “Yeah, I get that. I still remember Quinn, Jack and Luke’s draft days. It’s an extremely weird moment. Like, it’s wonderful of course, but also strange?”
“That makes sense,” Nina says. “It’s really cool to see how things have turned out since then, but it’s an interesting moment for sure. Especially when you remember Nico, or in your case, Quinn, Jack and Luke, as little boys just being little boys.”
“Nico’s really happy with you, I can tell,” Anika says. “And I don’t just say that to say that. His smile looks lighter. Freer.”
“I think that just might be because he’s home.”
“It’s because of you,” Nina says in a tone that leaves room for no argument.
When she slips into her pink dress and puts the bracelets on her wrist as they’re about to head out, it hits her what’s really about to happen. She’s about to see her favorite artist. She still remembers being gifted a CD of Taylor’s debut album from her father, Teardrops On My Guitar on repeat. After the Eras Tour sold out in seconds and the resale tickets were way too high, she lost hope on ever seeing Taylor on tour, at least this go-around.
She walks down the stairs and the first thing she sees is Nico. Dressed up in a light pink button up with khaki shorts, a backwards hat placed on his head, laughter etched in the lines on his face as he converses with his friends and siblings in his native language, she swallows. He looks up as she reaches the last step and his smile turns softer. Nina’s previous words echo her mind as she easily presses against his side.
Clementine wrinkles her nose as she looks up at him. “You really do love your hats.”
“You don’t?”
“They’re fine. I just like your hair more.” Without argument, he takes his hat off and tosses it on a nearby couch. She gives him a look but he just kisses the top of her head.
The closer they reach Letzigrund, a football stadium, Luca had said, she marvels at how large it is. She’s been to large concerts before, but as they park and make their way through the gates, she’s taken aback. Nico gently tugs their hands so she doesn’t get lost in the ground as they go find their seats. Turns out Nico pulling a few strings means tickets on the floor, not too close to the action where they would get pushed but at a vantage point where they’re in the center and can see everything. She turns to look at him bewildered and he just shrugs, a wry smile playing at his lips.
She pokes him. “Best birthday present ever.”
He takes a sip of his beer casually. “I’m glad. You know I prepared for this.”
“How?”
“I’ve been listening to Taylor Swift non-stop the last month.”
“I know we haven’t been dating for a long time, but all I do is play Taylor Swift.”
“True. But I didn’t realize how many songs she actually has. And you’re probably gonna know all of them.”
“Probably,” she admits. She’s definitely the biggest fan among the group right along with Anika. “But you don’t have to know all of them to have a good time.”
“I know. I heard she puts on a good show.” They watch Yannis, one of their friends, exchange bracelets with a stranger before Nico nudges her lightly. “I’m also just, I don’t know, excited because you’re excited.”
She snorts. “You’re a sap.”
What she wants to say, really, is “I love you.” But she refrains.
Throughout the whole concert — which in itself is a highlight of her life and something she won’t ever forget — Clementine wants to tell him she loves him. When Taylor appears in her colorful, sparkly bodysuit and sings ‘Lover’ while Nico’s arms find their way around her waist as he’s standing behind her swaying them lightly, she wants to tell him. When she, Nina and Anika loop their arms around each other screaming ‘You Belong With Me’ and he simply points his phone at them with a laugh, she wants to tell him. Right before the bridge of ‘Champagne Problems,’ when he whispers a soft “wow,” eyes glued on Taylor on stage as she sings one of Clementine’s favorite songs of hers, she wants to tell him. When he quickly leaves and comes back in the middle of ‘Delicate’ with a beer for her and a water for them to share, she wants to tell him.
When ‘Long Live’ comes on and she sees his eyes light up in recognition, before he pulls his phone out to record the end — her favorite part and the fact that he knows that is something in itself — she wants to tell him. When he and the boys scream ‘22’ so incredibly out of tune and she can’t stop laughing, she wants to tell him. When she fully loses her voice screaming out ‘Illicit Affairs’ and he can’t hide his grimace at his eardrums bursting, she wants to tell him. As they both watch Anika practically collapse when the opening notes of ‘Style’ ring out — she had come into the concert blind to the setlist somehow — and Clementine can’t help but shake her hips while singing along, she wants to tell him.
When he presses a kiss on her temple multiple times during the surprise songs as she is tearing up, she wants to tell him. When Taylor closes out the show with ‘Karma’ and Nico is visibly in awe of all the colors, fireworks, confetti and overall grand finale, she wants to tell him.
She leans into his side as they walk to their cars. She loves him. They bid farewell to everyone. She loves him. When they get back to their place, they decide to rinse off the sweat and grime together and he gently rubs massages shampoo into her hair. She loves him.
As Nico falls fast asleep next to her, arm wrapped securely around her waist, she’s about to lock her phone when she sees that she has a few text messages. They’re from Nina, who has already speedily downloaded the pictures she took on her digital camera from tonight. She thumbs through them quickly, smiling at all of them.
She stops at one of her and Nico taken before the show in front of the stage. They’re both not looking at the camera but at each other. She’s in the middle of talking — about what, she can’t remember — as Nico is just smiling at her.
She looks down at the sleeping man next to her. She loves him so fucking much.
…..
(She does end up telling Nico that she loves him a few days later, as they’re weaving through a farmer’s market in Lucerne, him carrying the bags filled with fresh vegetables and other groceries that they’re using to make dinner tonight. She thinks he doesn't hear her at first, but he tugs them towards the side and drops the bags so he can cup her face in his hands and kiss her.
“You love me?” He murmurs.
“Yeah,” she whispers. “I-I know it’s soon and you don’t have to say it back-”
He shakes his head with a grin, “Shut up.” He kisses her again. “I love you, Schatz.”
“Really?” She swallows. “You’re not just saying that?”
“I love you,” he repeats firmly. “I adore you, if we’re gonna be honest. You’re getting really close to be one of the best things that Jersey has brought me.”
“Well, now you’re just being stupid. How about, oh I don’t know, your entire career?”
He picks up their bags again, tossing an arm over her shoulder. “One of the best. Love you.”
She lets out a happy sigh, momentarily leaning her head on his shoulder as the sun hits their skin)
…..
The Switzerland tour is wrapped up in the best way, in Nico’s hometown of Naters, right by the mountains. Seriously, how is one country allowed to be this beautiful? She gets to hear the stories that litter these streets, the memories associated with the air interlacing with the wind, from a man who she loves and loves her. She tries not to think about how this is the last moments they’ll have until he comes back to New Jersey in September.
The night before she takes off, they go out to dinner at a fancy enough place that Clementine’s pulling out one of her more formal dresses. The candlelight illuminates Nico reverently, his brown eyes not tearing away from her for more than 15 seconds the whole night. The attention would be overwhelming, but Clementine just lets herself sink into it.
This feeling of being loved like this? It’s new. And she’s fully aware that it’s fragile and it could crumble any minute. But not right now. Not with Nico looking at her like she’s the only person in the room.
When he drops her off at Zurich airport the next day, she hugs him for a full minute. She doesn’t cry, but there’s a pull at her heart that plants the silly idea of staying here forever just so that she doesn’t have to leave him. But she pulls away, kisses him one more time, runs a hand through his hair, before grabbing her things and walking through the automatic doors.
…..
Clementine’s about to take a shower when she hears a key click into place. Seconds later, she’s sandwiched between Jack and Luke, uncontrollably laughing. She’s missed them dearly.
Luke smacks a kiss on her cheek. Jack ruffles her hair. She scolds them about leaving their bags in the front door where anyone could trip on them.
They’re back for another season, albeit a bit early to spend their last few summer days in the city. Nico lands tomorrow. Her Google Calendar has been synched with the Devils and Canucks game schedules.
Suddenly, the heat wave that’s hit New York / New Jersey doesn’t feel so constricting anymore.
…..
She might’ve had to bribe Ben to switch shifts with her, but there was no way she was gonna miss the home opener. Even if she’s extremely tired.
Clementine somehow makes it home before Jack and Luke are due to be at the rink earlier than normal for the carpet and other things. They’re both dressed and ready to head out. It’s a reminder that if Clementine sits on her couch for even 5 minutes, she will fall asleep. So she shouldn’t do that.
Not even a minute after she shut the front door, there’s a knock. Jack calls out that it’s open and Nico walks in.
If this were a few months ago, Clementine would blame just getting back from a long day of work for her eyes literally popping open. But it’s not, and she calls the man who walked through the door her boyfriend. Yet here she is, in her scrubs with her messy ponytail and smelling of hospital, just staring.
Holy. Shit. Nico looks hot. Which, like, yeah, he always does. Clementine is well aware that her boyfriend is a very attractive man. But something about the new green three piece suit that she had helped him pick out over FaceTime when he was still in Switzerland and his hair and the overall look has her literally speechless.
Luke, like the bitch he is, takes note and just laughs. “Cat got your tongue, Clemmy?”
She finds her voice. “Fuck off.”
Nico just smirks as he hugs Jack and Luke before walking over to give her a peck, “Hi.”
“Absolutely not,” she backs away when Nico reaches for a hug. He pouts but she shakes her head. “I just worked for 12 hours in a hospital. You do not want to hug me.”
“Of course I want to hug you. I love you.”
Somewhere behind them, she hears a gag. Gags, actually. She sticks out her middle finger behind her back before leaning in to give him another kiss. “I’ll hug you after the game when I’m clean.” He ignores her and just smothers her in a hug as she squeals. He presses exaggerated kisses all over her face as she tries to slither out of his hold. “Stop!” She breathes out in between laughs. “I’m literally so gross.”
“You’re beautiful.”
“Can you two not?” Luke deadpans.
The couple both roll their eyes. “This is nothing,” Clementine retorts.
“I know, which makes it worse.”
Jack snorts as he grabs his water bottle and keys. “You two ready to go? We’re cutting it close.”
“Yeah,” Nico tosses Jack his eyes. “You guys go down first. I’ll be a second.”
Jack looks between his captain and sister with a subtle glare. “Five minutes.”
“We are older than you,” Clementine retorts. Jack rolls his eyes before exaggeratedly blowing a kiss to Clementine. She scoffs but blows him and Luke a kiss as they walk out the front door. “They’re annoying.”
Nico chuckles, before brushing a stray piece of her hair behind her ear. “How was your day?”
“Fucking brilliant,” she deadpans. “You can’t tell by my messy hair and eye bags?”
His eyebrows furrow. “If you’re too tired to come to the game, you don’t-”
“Don’t even finish that sentence. I’m not missing the home opener. Are you insane? I’ll be good after a shower and a beer or two.” She places her hands and gently straightens his jacket into place. “You look incredibly hot.”
“Yeah?”
She kisses the smirk off his face. “Oh please. Like you don’t know.”
“It’s a good ego boost hearing that from the person’s opinion I care about the most.”
She gently brushes her hand through his hair. “I’m a very lucky woman.”
“I’m the lucky one,” he presses one last kiss on her lips. “I’ll see you after?”
She tilts her head to the side and pouts a bit. “Thought I was going home with you after no matter what, Captain.”
Nico’s eyes darken the slightest bit. Bingo. “Careful, baby.”
Clementine shrugs nonchalantly. “Have fun. Maybe score a goal or two for me?”
“What do I get if I do?”
“Careful, baby,” she echoes with a smirk. “You should head out before Jack and Luke storm back in here. And you know they will.”
He groans. “You ruined the moment.”
She chuckles, gently shoving him back. “Good luck. I’ll see you soon. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
…..
It’s not like anything is wrong, perse.
Clementine doesn’t often get into her overthinking moods. Frankly, she doesn’t have time for it. Since she was 18, it was study hard, let herself be dragged out once in awhile by her friends away from the books, listen to her own gut when it told her she actually needed a break, feel herself falling more in love with medicine and patients and caring for them, rinse and repeat. She’s 27 now, and the contours of that thinking have adjusted to whatever moment she’s in, but her core is still the same.
But when she finds herself in these overthinking moods, it consumes her. Her mom once told her it causes her to think irrationally, and Clementine had snapped back, even though deep down, she knew it was true.
These overthinking moods could be about anything, and have been about anything. From grades, to the overwhelming ache of missing her father, to questioning if the path she’s worked so hard for is worth it, to questioning if going to California for eight years and away from everyone was the best choice or just the convenient excuse she could use when in reality, she was running from her problems. From watching Quinn, Jack and Luke from right next to them but also from so, so far away, to making sure her mother still enjoys and loves life even though it’s been almost ten years since she lost her partner, to her own self worth and if she’s as good of a person that everyone always tells her she is and how that can be true if sometimes she feels like she’s grasping at straws.
The point is, Clementine knows herself well enough to know when one of these moods is coming.
It hits her full force on her commute the way to the hospital, because of course it does. Last night had been really fun with the season home opener. She sat with all the significant others for the first time and the vibe was high. When Nico had scored, the girls had all cheered and pointed to her as she finished off a beer. Some of the fans had given her high fives and maybe had caught on, she thinks, especially because she was wearing a 13 jersey and Nico had pointed in her direction after he scored. But Devils fans are also just really nice, so it also could’ve been nothing.
She already had a lot of the other women’s phone numbers from last year’s Friendsgiving, but she was officially added into the group chat because she’s not just Jack and Luke’s pseudo-sister who lives with them anymore. She’s also the captain’s girlfriend.
Something about that has her mind racing this morning as she watches the streets of New York City at 7:29 a.m. outside the bus window. Now she’s thinking about whether she should be doing more because of that title. In the grand scheme of things, her and Nico haven’t been dating for that long. Realistically, she knows no one is expecting her to do anything more. She venmoed Nicole immediately yesterday when she had casually mentioned the money pool all the significant others have for various things like events, gifts and other things. But should Clementine be the one spearheading that because her boyfriend’s the captain? She just got here. She has no fucking idea.
She always thought being surrounded by hockey her whole life would help her in most of these situations. Not this one.
When the time comes — if the time comes and her and Nico even last as long as she wants to — and off-season comes back around, is he gonna expect her to spend it in Switzerland with him? Obviously, that didn’t happen this summer because they had literally just started dating, but what about the future? She wouldn’t ever ask him to move his training closer to her, but how would off-seasons work in different countries when the regular season is already crazy enough? She knows All-Star breaks and off-season vacations are a thing, but with her inflexible work schedule, how is all that going to work? Will he be upset that she probably won’t be able to join him? What if, somehow, Nico is traded to another team? Clementine’s home for the next four years is going to be New Jersey / New York. And then, vice versa, what happens if her future leads her to yet another part of the country?
Yeah, she’s majorly overthinking now.
Usually, she would talk to someone about it, but in a rare instance, her mind comes up blank. Her mom and Ellen would just tell her to slow down and that she’s being silly. Emilia and her other friends at the hospital would listen, but wouldn't really get it. The other significant others are nice, but she doesn’t feel particularly close enough with any of them yet to voice her intrusive thoughts. No way is she talking to Quinn, Jack or Luke about this.
That would leave Nico. But there’s something about that that feels off too.
She’s also been told multiple times that she can’t keep things to herself. And she really does think she’s gotten better at it throughout the years. But old habits die hard. So she also does something she’s really good at. Putting it all away the second she walks into the hospital
The next time she thinks about it is during a quick break she has inbetween patients, when she checks her phone and sees the notifications from the significant other group chat. Nothing important as she thumbs through quickly, but it still leaves her with a weird feeling in her stomach.
And again, she wills those thoughts to go away as she steps back out into the hallway.
The next few days, Clementine doesn’t see Nico much. She’s at the hospital and he’s busy with the new season starting and getting back into the swing of things, making sure his team is doing well on and off the ice and making sure new guys are acclimating. It’s nothing out of the ordinary — it’s not like she’s seeing Jack and Luke that much either while living with them. But she also knows deep down that it’s more than that.
A week and a half after the season opener, Nico texts her to see if she wants to come over to his after her shift and they can make dinner together. Despite whatever weird things she’s thinking, she says yes. It hits her like a brick that they haven’t seen each other since Nico kissed her goodnight after the season opener.
She can tell something is on his mind immediately, or maybe that he knows something is on her mind, but they both don’t mention it the whole night. Instead, they loosely follow a steak dinner recipe Nico found online and keep the topics light.
But she can’t help but feel like something is off the whole night. Clementine knows she should ask him. Talk to him about it.
She doesn’t.
Her stomach remains in weird knots for the next few days when she lets herself think even for a second about her boyfriend, who’s supposed to be the person she can talk to these things about, right? Clementine’s a bit out of practice — it’s been over three years since she’s had anything sembling a relationship — but goddamn, she doesn’t think this is normal.
But she doesn’t want to burden Nico. He’s already overwhelmed enough with everything on his plate. She can see the wheels constantly turning in his mind. She doesn’t want to add onto that.
So, Clementine avoids.
…..
More patients. More long hours. The Devils first road trip. She should’ve known the people she lives with would pick up on something sooner than later.
“Are you and Schao fighting?”
Clementine has no idea where that nickname came from and has never asked. Hockey players are weird creatures, the nicknames they give their teammates included.
She keeps her head down, putting the chicken pot pies in the oven. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I asked if he wanted to come by for dinner and he made some shitty excuse about calling his family or something.”
“Calling family is not a shitty excuse,” Clementine says automatically. Her back is towards them, but she knows Luke always beelines directly towards the bathroom to rinse off right after practice. So Jack’s the one who’s dropping their bags loudly on the floor. “Bags against the wall, Jacky.”
He grumbles and Clementine smirks to herself in satisfaction as she hears Jack move the bags. “So? Trouble in paradise?”
“None of your business.”
“Dude.”
“I mean it. None of your business.”
She doesn’t exactly snap — somehow, Quinn, Jack and Luke have never annoyed her enough to make her want to — but it’s something close to it. Silence, and then she hears Jack rounding the kitchen island. He tugs at her arm. “Do I need to beat him up? I know he’s my captain or whatever, but I will.”
“Absolutely not.” She finally makes eye contact with him and is taken aback at how serious Jack looks. “I’m not fucking with your team chemistry.”
“Who cares about team chemistry?” Jack asks, watching as she stirs the glazed carrots. “You’re my sister. So I’ll ask again. Do I need to whoop his ass?”
She sighs, leaning her hip against the counter. “No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She shrugs. “There’s nothing much to it. Just a bump in the road, I guess.”
“About?” Jack presses lightly.
Clementine bites her lip. One part of her is telling her that she shouldn’t talk to Jack — or Luke — about her relationship troubles simply due to the fact that Nico’s their captain and friend and teammate and rock and all of that. But the other part of her does want to finally talk to someone. “I think we’re trying to figure out how to be together with both our busy schedules and it’s…tougher than we anticipated.”
Jack hums, “I see.”
Despite herself, Clementine snorts. “I’m not getting relationship advice from my younger brother. I’m not stooping that low.”
“Lame,” Jack shoots back. “Your loss. I think I could give you some decent Nico advice. I’ve known him much longer than you have, you know.”
He does have a point. She watches him blow a piece of hair out of his face in thought. Then, Luke walks in with his damp hair.
“What are you guys talking about?” Luke asks.
“Nothing.”
“Nico.” She glares at Jack, who just shrugs with a smirk.
Luke sits down across from her. “Oh wonderful. We’re talking about how miserable he’s been lately?”
Clementine busies herself by pouring him out a glass of water. “Nico’s been miserable?”
“Uh, yeah.” Luke says in a know-it-all voice that has her wanting to smack him on the head. “Besides, like, maybe a few smiles on the ice after a good play or game or whatever, he’s just had those sad eyes.”
Ah, yes. Those sad eyes. Clementine’s acquainted herself with those, even last season when they weren’t together. They come out after every loss. They’ve never come because of her.
She shrugs, trying to be casual about it. She can feel Jack’s eyes narrowing and knows that his brain is moving. People don’t give Jack enough credit for how perceptive he can be. He tugs at her sleeve again, and Clementine sighs, lowering the flame so she can give him his full attention.
“Do I need to talk to him?” Jack asks softly. “I don’t like seeing either of you sad.”
“Wait, hold on,” Luke interrupts. “You can’t talk to him if you don’t know what’s going on, Jacky.”
“No one is talking to anyone,” she says. “We just haven’t been able to see each other much lately. Or don’t want to. I don’t know.”
“Clee.” Jack says flatly.
She finally cracks, swallowing. “Obviously, I know what a season looks like. I mean, fuck, I lived with you two last year and I literally grew up with hockey all around me. I know it’s busy and I know he’s even busier because he’s captain or whatever. But shit, sometimes it feels like…I don’t know.”
“It feels like what?” Jack presses.
She puts her head in her hands for a few moments before looking back up, squeezing her eyes together to keep the frustrated tears at bay. “Sometimes it feels like he doesn’t even want to be around me. Like we’re strangers or just friends or whatever”
“What?” Luke deadpans. “Clemmy, that’s…what?”
Jack throws his brother a dirty look. “Let her finish.”
“And it’s on me too,” she continues as if they hadn’t interrupted. “Like, yeah, he’s busy, but so am I. And I’ve been taking extra shifts and staying at the hospital to study longer because things are getting harder but, I don’t know. I guess now that we’re actually in the season it’s a whole other thing. I know I’m being unreasonable. Maybe I’m just not cut out for a relationship or whatever.”
She knows the last sentence is an intrusive thought. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t have some semblance of meaning.
“That’s stupid,” Jack says. Clementine looks up from the table to look at him sadly. He has a look of fire in his eyes. “The last part, I mean. Not cut out for a relationship? What does that even mean?”
“If that’s not it, what is?” She huffs out. “I just feel like, I’m losing him? Assuming that I had him in the first place, I guess.”
“Clementine,” Luke starts. He never calls her by her government name. “What are you talking about? That boy is head over heels for you. You’ve had him since the moment you two met, I’m pretty sure.”
“Have you guys talked about this?” Jack asks. “Like, actually sat down and talked about how you’re feeling and why you’re upset.”
“How can we talk when I don’t even know why I’m upset?”
“It doesn't need to be, like, extremely coherent. Even if it doesn’t come out pretty or whatever, at least he’d know and stop making assumptions. And as someone who knows Nico, he’s definitely doing that, but probably not talking to you about it because he thinks he’ll just burden you with it.”
Clementine groans. “That’s the crux of it, I think. We’re not talking about the things that matter. We should be able to do that. Because I also think I’m burdening him with my unnecessary problems.”
“So, let me get this straight,” Luke starts. “Cap’s miserable and you’re miserable because you’re not…talking to each other?”
“Well, when you put it like that, I sound like a dumbass.” She picks at her nails. “It’s also more than that. A lot of factors involved.”
“I’ll talk to him,” Jack promises.
Clementine glares at him. “No. Stay out of it, Jacky. You too, Luke. I’m not putting you guys in the middle of our shit when you have to play with him.”
“I’m not gonna say anything bad,” Jack says. “You said that you feel like he doesn’t wanna talk to you, right? Which I know is a load of bullshit. He, again, probably just thinks he’s bothering you with his shit because that’s how Nico operates. He’s a great captain and will listen to anyone else’s problems, but thinks that no one wants to hear his, which, like you said, is stupid, especially when it comes down to you two. I’ll talk to him, Clee. Give him a little push. And then you two need to talk.”
She turns towards Luke — since when does she trust Luke enough to determine a good idea from a bad one? — who shrugs. “It wouldn’t hurt,” Luke says. “Jack has a way of getting through to Nico like no one else can.”
“Yeah, but that’s on ice stuff. This is off-ice stuff. And something that doesn't involve you guys.”
Jack lets out a little noise at that. “Hate to say it, but the second you guys started dating, we were already involved.”
She sighs. Because he’s right. Again. “I love him,” she says.
“I know. And he loves you too. No one’s doubting that,” Jack says. The oven beeps and before she can move, Luke rushes to gather the pies. “I won’t overstep, I promise.”
They let the topic go for the rest of dinner.
…..
Clementine doesn’t even get the chance to fully swing open the door the next afternoon before Nico’s pulling her into a tight hug. She freezes for a few seconds before melting into his embrace, rubbing her thumbs against the back of his neck as he rests his head on her shoulder. He mumbles something and she asks him to repeat it.
He straightens up, hands still wrapped around her and clears his throat. “I always want to be around you.”
She blinks, before sighing in realization. “Whatever Jack said, it’s-”
“It’s not about what he said,” Nico says, closing the door behind him. “Not entirely. He just…lit a fire up my ass a bit.”
“A bit too bluntly and with so little tact that would seem rude if it wasn’t coming from Jack?”
Nico snickers. “Yeah.” He calms down and looks at her seriously. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she responds automatically.
“No, I mean,” he pauses and swallows. Clementine knows his wheels are turning. Even after being in North America for almost a decade, sometimes his English fails him and it takes a few moments for him to formulate what he wants to say. “I love you. I always want to be around you. I want to hear about your days at the hospital and I want to kiss you after every win and to hug you after every loss. But most importantly, I want to hear about your thoughts and feelings about everything, and that includes us. I’m sorry that you haven’t felt comfortable to do that lately.”
Her heart lurches and she places her hands on his cheeks. She can’t take the sad, watery eyes. “Hey. Hey. It’s okay. It’s alright. It’s on me too.”
He vehemently shakes his head, his hands reaching to wrap around her wrists. “No, it’s not. I-I’m the one with- you’ve given me so much control, with the season and everything, when you’re just as busy. Probably even busier than me. Shit, you’re literally a doctor. That’s nothing compared to what I do.”
“Nico-“
“I know I need to work on communicating and letting people in. It’s been an issue my whole life. Just ask Nina. I, you know, the team is wonderful and supportive, but I still feel the need to not let them know too much about my struggles, you know? Because I’m supposed to be the leader. But you’re not part of the team. Not in that way. You’re my girlfriend. My best friend. And I need to work on talking things through with you instead of my instinct of shutting down or dealing with it myself.”
Clementine blinks, taking it in. She’s always known Nico to be self aware, but this is a whole new level.
He kisses her gently, before pressing his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry. I’ll be better. That’s a promise. You can come to me with anything, even if you don’t think it’ll be something I want to hear. You can trust me. Rely on me. I’ll prove it to you everyday.”
“You don’t need to prove anything to me,” she says, rubbing his cheekbones with her thumbs. “Just…please talk to me? And I also need to work on doing that with you. I know we’re both busy and have our own separate lives-”
“You are a part of my life,” Nico assures. “A huge part. Like yeah, it’s separate with the fact that you have the hospital and your people there and I have hockey and the people there, but not really. We’re a team, right?”
She smiles at him repeating her words back to her face. She had said that once in their phone calls over the summer where she started rambling about how she’s always seen romantic relationships as more than just sweeping each other off their feet. ‘If the two people aren’t on the same team, then what’s the point? Then it’s just two people with a whole lot of feelings who never truly see each other eye to eye’ she had said.
“Yeah. We’re a team. Since we’re a team, can I propose something?”
“Anything,” Nico rushes out. And it’s so nice to know for sure that he means it.
“Can we try to do one night a week? Just for us? Unless you’re on a road trip or I have a weird shift schedule for some reason. Obviously, more would be great, but one at the bare minimum?”
Nico hums. “One guaranteed date night with you every week? I think I can manage.”
“You think?” she pokes his side.
“It’s perfect,” he says with pure sincerity. “You’re perfect.”
She rolls her eyes. “Far from it.”
“False,” he beams, sneaking another kiss. Clementine’s heart feels the lightest it’s felt in weeks. “I can’t believe Jack was right.”
She snorts. “About? Jack’s never right.”
“I know,” he rolls his eyes, before looking at her in a way that makes butterflies flutter in her stomach. “But he was right this time.”
Oh. They’re not talking about the fight anymore.
…..
(Clementine finally tells Nico everything that day about the overthinking — the tendencies and the topics she was overthinking about this time. He’s rubbing her knee as she talks about how she feels like she has to be setting an example or something because she’s dating him. She knows he wants to interrupt and assure her. She appreciates that he waits until she finishes.
He reassures her, which is nice, but he realizes that that’s not necessarily what she needs. Clementine just needs someone to listen. And Nico thinks everything she says is always worth listening to.
But Clementine also likes to be proactive and have tangible next steps, something she and him have in common. So they both come up with the first step: Clementine sends a text to Kristen Haula, who has a lot of experience of just … being the significant other to a professional athlete. Kristen responds quickly and kindly, asking when Clementine has a day off from work where she can come over and they can chat.
It’s always a breath of relief knowing people want to help with problems that she thinks are stupid. Because they’re usually not stupid. Nico’s there to assure her of that.
She goes to sleep that night with a smile.)
…..
That conversation is just the start. Because you can say all you want in a relationship, say you need to improve things, but until things are actually done, it doesn’t mean squat.
She can tell there’s something on Nico’s mind, even in the short phone call as he’s heading to the rink before a game and she’s heading home from the hospital. Clementine asks multiple times if he’s sure he’s okay and he tells her he’s fine, so she lets it go, wishing him good luck and assuring him she’ll be watching.
The Devils lose 5-1 to Vegas, and it’s so tough to watch that she almost wants to turn it off before it ends, especially after the camera pans to Nico’s face and Jack breaking his stick on the boards in frustration after the final buzzer sounds. A four game losing streak.
After giving Jack and Luke extra long hugs, Luke burying his face into her shoulder and Jack clutching her t-shirt, she calls Nico as she’s climbing into bed.
“Hey baby.”
“Hi.”
“Don’t beat yourself up too much, okay? Are you back at your place?”
“Yeah. What are you doing awake?”
She swallows at his blunt tone. “I wanted to catch you afterwards.”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Get some sleep.”
“Oh. Okay. Are you sure you don’t wanna talk about it?”
A rustle on his end. “I’m sure.”
“Want me to come by tomorrow morning? I don’t have to head in until the afternoon.”
Silence. “Yeah?” The raspy voice he’s gotten from yelling during the game momentarily makes her smile because she’s always found it so attractive. “Are you sure?”
“Of course.”
“Okay,” she thinks his voice softens. “Yeah. I’d love that.”
“Great. Goodnight, then. I’ll see you in the morning. Sweet dreams. I love you.”
“Goodnight, Schätzli. I love you.”
The next morning, she punches in Nico’s code and walks in to him pouring out a cup of coffee for her. He’s dressed in his typical day off attire: a random t-shirt that she thinks looks unfairly good on him, gray sweatpants and his hair is all messed up. She paddles over to the kitchen.
From behind, she wraps her arms around his waist. “Hi baby.”
“Hey,” he turns in her arms to peck her lips. “You eat yet?” He asks.
“Mmhmm.”
He hums, following her to the couch and sinking down right next to her. He tucks himself into the blanket with an involuntary hum, burying himself into the pillow, dragging her down so that she’s laying on his chest. She breathes in his scent and automatically smiles. She feels him physically relax.
“How’s the hospital been?”
Clementine shrugs. “The usual.”
“Tell me more.”
She blinks. Oh, she realizes. And she then talks about random details of her week that don’t actually matter but she’s figured out that sometimes he just likes to listen to her voice. Whether to ground himself, get himself out of his own head or both. He hums in all the right places to show he’s listening, but she also doesn’t really need him to listen about the workplace drama of people having a theory that two of her coworkers are hooking up.
There’s a lull in the conversation as she listens to his heartbeat. She thinks he might have fallen asleep. She doesn’t dare move to check.
“Eight.”
So he’s not asleep. She taps her fingers on his chest. “Hm?”r
“This is my eighth season in the league. Eighth in Jersey. And I have nothing to show for it.” She swallows. She debates sitting up so she can see him, but she stays still. He sighs. “I feel like we’re just never going to have a good start to the season, and it’s just like this every year and I’m not doing anything right. I can’t shoot. I can’t score. I can’t lead this team.”
“Nico-“
“At this point, if we’re not the team that’s gonna get Jersey to the cup, then who is? It’s always been about potential and things falling into place and sometimes I feel like all of it has and then we end up falling short anyways.” He starts breathing faster and Clementine sits up, holding his hands. She can see the storm in his eyes. “Fuck, I’m the captain. Part of my job is to make sure this doesn’t happen and that when we gain momentum, that we don’t lose it. But it feels like we can’t even gain that momentum so we’re stuck in whatever the hell we’re stuck in. It’s starting to remind me of my first few seasons here, which really fucking sucks and just shouldn’t be where we’re at. Are the pieces ever going to come together like everyone has been saying it will?”
(In the back of her mind, Clementine’s stomach drops because Nico rarely swears, and he just dropped two f bombs in the last 15 seconds)
She squeezes his hands. “Nico. Please listen to me when I say this. It is not all on you. Captain or not, no one is expecting you to carry all of that on your shoulders.” He opens his mouth to counter but she’s quicker. “Nope. I don’t want to hear it. If I’ve learned anything from growing up with three hockey-playing brothers, is that hockey is a team sport. You win together. You lose together. Everything you go through? You go through together.”
“But I feel like I’m not doing anything right.”
“If any single one of your teammates heard you right now, I know they’d smack you in the face.” Clementine says bluntly. “Even before we were dating, from day one of training camp in Jack’s rookie year, when you didn’t even have the C yet, he was already raving to me about how good of a role model you were. You didn’t just get that C just because, Nico. You were and are the best option. I fully believe it. Your teammates respect you so much, baby. I see it with my own eyes every game. And they love and respect you enough to know that this is not all on you. You lead your team so beautifully. It is your team. And fuck the media and what they’re saying. Half of them can’t even hold a stick in their hand or skate. Literally who cares what they think? The outside noise is all bullshit anyways.” She rubs his cheekbones with her thumbs. “I know my words can’t fix the slump you guys are in. But I refuse to let you believe that any of this is entirely your fault. It is anything but. I refuse you to let you believe you’re anything but a good leader. You are the best leader. But you need to put less pressure on yourself over things that are out of your control.”
She lets her words wash over him, as he nods. One of her favorite things about him is that he’s always so expressive, especially in the domestic environment of his apartment under the maroon blanket she knitted him for Christmas. Here he is, not under any arena lights, just in his home away from home, trying to find some grounding. She places a kiss on his forehead and he practically falls into her touch.
“Everything about you always helps,” Nico whispers. “Thank you.”
“No need,” she smiles as his cheek rests on her stomach, arms wrapped around her waist in a tight embrace. “It’s okay to be frustrated and upset, honey. I get it. But you’re gonna drive yourself insane if you keep holding all this weight on your shoulders. Share it with others. Share it with your teammates. Share it with me. It’s what we’re here for.” Nico mutters something in German and she snorts. “English, please.”
“I don’t want to share it with you if it means I’m gonna explode and scare you. That’s the last thing I want to do.”
Clementine blinks, digesting that statement. She picks her words carefully. “It’s more than okay to show emotions. Any psychologist would tell you it’s healthy to do so. The fact that you’re afraid at the idea of scaring me is probably a good indicator that you won’t. And please. Give me some credit. I don’t get scared easily.” She leans down to press a kiss in his hair. “I mean it. Share the burdens, baby. We all want to help.”
He hums and she lets him play with her fingers before she has to go to work.
…..
There were cons to not living near the boys for eight years — missing big moments and not having their presence around all the time being the two biggest ones.
But there were pros too. Such as, not being a part of moments that she would rather be anywhere else for. She doesn’t know who gave the three boys the sex talk (it probably was Quinn, but who gave it to him?) and she knows that if she had been in Toronto or Michigan during that time, she would’ve begrudgingly done it and hated every second.
If she thinks about it too much, it’s kinda incredible how she hasn’t encountered this particular situation yet.
This particular situation being this: Clementine’s just come back from an overnight shift she got let off early from, exhausted to her bones but not exhausted enough to be immobile. On the drive back from the station, she was debating whether to stop by her favorite deli or make her own brunch. She ultimately decided that there are too many things in the fridge to justify her going to the deli. Maybe next week.
So now here she is, preparing her feta egg bake thing that she saw on TikTok, a mix of vegetables drizzled in olive oil and various herbs sitting on the counter on another tray, ready to go into the oven. She hears the front door open and glaces at the clock on the microwave. Morning skate must’ve been earlier than normal today.
“Hello?” Luke’s voice calls out.
“In the kitchen!”
She hears two pairs of footsteps come closer, assuming that Jack is with him. Though if she had stopped to think about it, she would’ve automatically thought it was weird that he didn’t call out a greeting either. She turns around, half smile planted on her face. The half smile doesn’t exactly drop at the sight of the unknown blonde girl next to him. Just turns more confused. Before Clementine can say anything, Luke speaks up.
“Hey. I didn’t think you’d be home until later.”
“They let me out early,” she searches her mind quickly, trying to see how to ask who the fuck is in their kitchen without sounding like a bitch.
Luckily, Luke does it for her. He clears his throat. “Uh, Clemmy, this is Ava. Ava, Clemmy. Or, Clementine, I guess.”
Clementine decides to put him out of his misery a bit. She hopes her smile is friendly enough. “Nice to meet you, Ava.”
“Same here. Are you Jack’s girlfriend?”
Before she can stop herself, she snickers. “He fucking wishes.”
“That’s Amelie,” Luke corrects. “Clemmy’s dating Nico, my captain.”
Ava’s eyes widen. “Oh. I’m so sorry!”
“It’s okay,” Clementine waves away her apology easily. “A lot of names. A lot of characters. Speaking of, where is Jack?”
“Dropped him off at Amelie’s after practice, actually. She’s totally gonna kill me though. I think she has to head to Philly later.”
“She’s definitely gonna kill you. Have you two eaten yet?” She asks politely.
Ava nods. “We did. Thank you so much though.”
“Anytime.” Luke makes a move to lead Ava to his room and Clementine immediately gets the hint. “If you change your mind, our fridge is open to all. I live here, which means there should be something edible.”
“Hey!” Luke protests. The two girls laugh. “Thanks though. Are you heading to Cap’s?”
Clementine shrugs. “I was going to eat, nap and maybe head over later, but I also didn’t know your morning skate was earlier than normal. Maybe I’ll go over to his and use him as my pillow.”
“Don’t drive if you’re too tired,” Luke warns, sounding entirely too much like Jack. “Hisch can wait if needed.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She waves her spatula at them. “Alright. I’m off an overnight shift, so you know what that means.”
Luke rolls his eyes as Ava looks between them curiously. “Your social battery is at its lowest and you’ll start snapping soon.” Ava looks amused and Clementine grins. “C’mon, Ava. Let’s go to my room.”
“It was nice to meet you,” Ava says.
“Likewise,” Clementine responds. The second Luke’s door shuts, she puts the feta egg bake and the vegetables in the oven and immediately grabs her phone, thumbing over to her text chain with Nico.
Clementine Sandoval
lol just had a major big sister moment
She gets a reply in seconds.
Nico Hischier
???
A moment you haven’t already experienced?
Clementine Sandoval
luke just came home with a girl I’ve never met before
Nico Hischier
In the day time? Lol
Does Jack know about this?
Clementine Sandoval
lol i’m assuming not
i def would’ve heard about it by now
luke’s not that stupid if he wanted to keep it quiet (which it seems like he does) jack would be the last person he’d tell
Nico Hischier
You do realize I’m their captain, right?
I could very well be with Jack right now. He could be looking over my shoulder
Clementine Sandoval
please i’m not an amateur
luke already told me he dumped jack at amelie’s
what are you doing the rest of the day?
Nico Hischier
Sitting on my coach and staring at the wall waiting for my beautiful girlfriend to come by after she takes her nap
Clementine Sandoval
whipped
any chance i can come by earlier and nap at yours? didn’t know you guys had an earlier skate
Nico Hischier
Door will be unlocked ❤️
Clementine Sandoval
???? your door has a code
but thanks 🩵🩵 i’ll come by after i eat
After her food is cooked thoroughly, she eats quickly, flicking through emails on her laptop. She can hear a movie playing through Luke’s laptop in his room and murmured voices through the door. As she’s cleaning up and getting ready to head out, she debates on whether she should tell Luke or not. She probably should, because then he’ll start worrying, which is something that she’s noticed all the brothers have done more as they’ve gotten older.
“Luke!” She calls, “I’m heading out.”
“Okay,” she hears his voice through his door. “Are you coming back for dinner?”
“Not sure yet. I’ll text you.”
“Okay!”
Clementine chuckles before grabbing her stuff and closing the front door behind herself.
Nico snorts as she’s retelling what happened, sipping on a cup of coffee. Clementine’s rambling to the max, sitting up on his kitchen counter and swinging her legs, not stopping even as Nico slips himself inbetween them and plants his hands on her thighs.
Suddenly, she trails off with a yawn. He chuckles softly before engulfing her in a hug, kissing her neck softly. “Couch or bed?”
“You don’t like just lounging on your bed.”
“But it’s your nap time and you like my bed.”
She plays with his hair, placing her cup of coffee down carefully. “Couch.”
“Okay,” he hums, helping her off the counter. “Is there anything I need to wake you up for later?”
“I made some sort of promise a few days ago that I’d cook Jack and Luke dinner, and I feel bad that I haven’t done it yet.”
“They can come over here and we can both cook them something.”
“You have groceries in your fridge?”
He gives her a look as she giggles. He tosses a blanket over her. “Sleep before you start getting sassier on me.”
Clementine hums, eyes already drooping. She tugs at his shirt as he’s about to leave. “Stay.”
“Baby-”
“Just until I fall asleep,” she grins as he climbs in, immediately burying her head into his chest as his arm wraps around her. She hums, eyes already shut. “I love you,” she murmurs against the cotton of his shirt.
She feels the gentlest kiss on her forehead before drifting off to sleep.
…..
Clementine loves being able to switch her brain during a live hockey game. Unless she gets a call from anyone at the hospital — which hasn’t happened yet — any good hockey game can turn her often overtired and overstimulated brain off.
So when Sarah, one of the staffers she frequently runs into at Devils games, comes up to her row, Clementine’s immediately standing up. “Sarah? What are you doing up here?”
“Can you come with me for a second?” At Clementine’s concerned stare, Sarah continues quickly. “Nothing bad! Just want your help on something medical related.”
“Medical related?” Clementine stands up and starts following Sarah.
“One of the kids in the Islanders box hurt herself and I’m pretty sure it’s just a sprained ankle, but you work with kids so I figured you could give another opinion and calm her down, maybe? If you don’t mind, of course.”
Clementine breathes out a sigh of relief. This she can handle. “I don’t mind at all. Jesus, Sarah. I thought it was something more serious.”
Sarah grimaces. “Sorry. Again, I just want a second opinion. I’m sorry to interrupt you watching the-”
“I get it. And hey, I’ve watched dozens of games by now.” They arrive at the visitor’s suite and somehow, Clementine feels immediately at home even though there’s an adorable blonde girl crying on the floor with her mother kneeling down next to her.
Clementine bends down and sits on the back of her heels. “Hi cutie. My name is Clementine. I’m here to help you, okay?” The mom, who is drop dead gorgeous, mutters some encouraging words to her daughter. “Can you tell me what happened, sweetie?”
Inbetween hiccups, the young girl explains that she was running around because her dad had just scored a goal but had run into a chair and had fallen backwards and now her ankle really hurts and if it’s broken she won’t get to play with her friends at recess. Clementine softly shushes her and calms her down before asking if she can take a look. The young girl nods and Clementine gingerly takes her ankle, rolling up her jeans. She speaks to the girl softly (who Clementine learns is named Winnie), asking about who she’s here to see and the game and anything else to keep her distracted while she does her routine checks.
Clementine taps her ankle. “Well, good news, Winnie. It’s only swollen, which won’t require going to the hospital. I’m just gonna wrap it up for you and get you some ice to keep on it, okay? And lots of rest, which means no running around for a bit.” She nods thankfully at Sarah, who runs to grab some bandages and an ice pack.
“Does that mean I get to watch Disney all day tomorrow?” Winnie asks.
Clementine laughs. “That’s gonna be a decision your mama has to make.” She turns to the gorgeous blonde again with a smile. “Everything’s all fine. Just lots of rest and ice and she’ll be good in no time. You can give her children’s motrin if she complains that it hurts too much, but it shouldn’t if she isn’t moving it around.”
“Thank you so much,” she says gratefully, putting her hand out. “I’m Sydney. It’s nice to meet you. I’m really sorry for interrupting your game.”
Clementine waves her away. “It’s no problem at all. I’ve seen a bunch of these, so I’m not too pressed.”
“Are you a doctor?”
“Not yet technically. I’m in my second year of residency with pediatrics and ER. But I promise I know what I’m doing.”
“Oh, no! I trust you, don’t worry. You have a very calming presence.”
“Well, your daughter is super sweet. So I’m sure you have a lot to do with that.”
Sydney beams. “You’re so sweet! Thank you.”
“Who are you here for?”
“Number 17. Matt Martin. He’s my husband. How about you?”
Clementine chuckles, as Sarah comes back with the supplies and Clementine wraps the bandage around Winnie’s ankle. “Depends who you ask.”
“Oh?”
“Well, I grew up with Luke and Jack. 43 and 86. But I’m dating Nico. Number 13.”
“That’s the captain, right?”
“It is.”
Clementine’s surprise must show through her voice because Sydney laughs. “Honestly, I don’t know why I know that. I blame my past journalist self who picks up on details quickly. Or the Devils and Islanders being in the same division.”
“That’s completely fair. I feel like I know too much about hockey for someone who never played.”
“It’s an added layer when we choose who we surround ourselves with, right?” Sydney says and Clementine nods with a smile. “Where are you doing your residency?”
“I’m mainly at NYC Health and Hospitals / Bellevue. First and 28th.”
“Do you live in the city?”
“Oh, no. Though that’s probably smarter, right?” They both laugh. “No, I live with Jack and Luke in Hoboken. They kinda begged, and it saves me money, and I don’t mind the commute.”
Sydney looks around for Winnie, who’s hanging out with one of the other Isles wives and is occupied. “Am I keeping you from someone? Thank you again for all your help.”
“No, not at all! Decided to come out solo tonight.”
Sydney then nods to two empty seats against the glass. “Come sit with me?”
Clementine just smiles and follows her to the seat as Winnie runs at her legs. The two women laugh as Clementine picks her up and sits her on her hip.
She leaves that night with a new number in her phone. Jack whines about her “befriending the enemy” as Luke cackles. Nico just grins, because he knows what it’s like to be captivated by her energy instantly.
*****
Clementine’s reading on Nico’s couch when she hears him groan loudly from the kitchen. When she doesn’t hear an explanation, she finishes the sentence and looks up.
“Everything okay?”
“No,” he grumbles, walking back in and typing something rapidly on his phone. “The rookies and the young guys went out and got way too drunk and called me by accident. I literally couldn’t understand more than two words of what Shea was saying.”
“How are they getting home?”
Nico sighs and picks up his keys. “I’m getting them. I don’t trust them to not puke all over an Uber right now.”
“But you trust them to not puke in your car?”
“I’ll tell them to aim out the window.”
Clementine snorts, standing up. “You drank earlier. I’ll drive.”
Nico blinks. “I didn’t drink that much.”
“Don’t care. I’m driving. How many of them are there?”
Nico looks at his phone, presumably his texts, to confirm. “Five. But apparently Luke called Jack so he’s coming too.” Nico laughs, reading another text. “And Amelie. Must be a similar vibe at the Hughes apartment tonight.”
“It was. Amelie told me they were having a chill date night too.” She quickly goes to Nico’s room to toss on one of his Devils sweatshirts. She comes back out and sticks her hand out as Nico slips on his shoes. “Keys. And grab a few trash bags, please.”
Nico obeys before they’re both out the door, his hand naturally brushing against her back as they wait for the elevator. “I’m sorry.”
“For?”
“All of this.”
She snorts as the elevators doors shut. “Don’t need to apologize for your teammates acting their age.”
“Yeah, but it’s not your responsibility to deal with that.”
“It’s yours though.”
He furrows his eyebrows. “I’m not following.”
She rises on her tiptoes to kiss him, to which he responds with enthusiasm despite his confusion. “Your boys, my boys, no?” She murmurs against his lips, letting him steal two more kisses. “I’m dating you. You’re the captain of an NHL team. You look out for the guys. Therefore, so do I.”
Nico shakes his head with a fond smile as the elevator doors open and he shuffles them both to the garage, his hands steadily on her hips. “You’re the best, you know that?”
“Been told that once or twice in my life,” she dodges his pokes as they walk to the car.
It only takes them 15 minutes before they’re in front of a bar. Nico pulls in right next to Jack’s car and Clementine laughs as all four of them get out of their cars at the same time. One look at Amelie tells her that she probably was dragged out of bed to come here.
She nods at the younger girl as they trail behind their boyfriends walking into the bar. “Chauffeur?”
Amelie smiles wryly, handing her a few bottles of water for whoever is coming in Nico’s car. “No. I’m the one who actually opened the wine tonight. But I don’t trust Jack to wrangle these guys by himself. Also, he promised he’d get me lunch from my favorite place tomorrow before I have to drive to Long Island.”
Clementine whistles. “Good girlfriend you are.”
Amelie tosses an arm around Clementine’s shoulders, which makes the latter grin. Amelie had been a bit shyer when they met at the start of the season, but she likes to think she’s cracked the photographer’s exterior a bit. They walk into the bar and just follow the guys, who quickly find their teammates. Clementine only raises an eyebrow as Seamus stumbles to give Nico a hug, almost taking out Simon in the process, who looks like he’s about to either fall asleep or throw up any minute. Jack is subtly steering glasses of alcohol away from Alex as he’s chatting away to Luke. Clementine’s half convinced he’s speaking Swedish and Luke’s too drunk to realize. She scans the bar to find the last straggler and chuckles when she sees Nico (little Nico, she affectionately calls him) come out of the bathroom. He brightens up when he sees the older girl and Clementine laughs loudly as he almost falls into her arms.
She, Nico, Jack and Amelie corral everyone into the two cars — Luke, Alex and Nico riding with Jack and Amelie and Seamus and Simon with Clementine and Nico, all purely based on proximity. Clementine gives both Amelie and Jack hugs before climbing into the drivers seat. She gives Seamus and Simon each bottles of water as she starts the engine.
“Drink. The whole thing. Both of you.” She commands. She peeks through the rearview mirror to make sure they do.
“I’m waiting for the lecture, Mrs. Cap.” Seamus groans out.
Clementine snorts. “No lecture from me. But you guys do remember that you have a team meeting tomorrow, do you?”
“How do you know that?”
Nico snorts as an answer as Clementine rolls her eyes. “How much did you guys have?”
“I stopped counting after the third round of shots,” Seamus says. Simon might have fallen asleep for all she knows.
“And who bought that round?” Nico asks.
“Luke,” Seamus and Clementine say simultaneously. She hears Simon groan, so he’s not asleep. Nico just chuckles.
It only takes 30 minutes to get them both safely home and to get back to Nico’s apartment. It’s almost 2 a.m. by the time they get back. Clementine gets comfortable fast, with Nico’s body pressed up against hers. The last conscious thought she has before drifting off to sleep is that she wants to do this with him for the rest of her life.
The first thing she hears when she wakes up is a bunch of male voices. She squints at her phone. 10:27 a.m. Team meeting started at 10. She yawns and rolls out of bed, washing her face and brushing her teeth before deciding to go fix up a quick breakfast for herself before locking herself in Nico’s room so the team can do whatever they do during team meetings.
The voices all halt as she nears the living room. Any other situation she would be a bit embarrassed perhaps, but frankly, they all know and should’ve expected this. And they’re in her apartment. Or Nico’s. But it also might as well be ours.
She offers a lazy salute. “Morning boys.” A chorus of greetings echoes and Clementine chuckles. “Don’t mind me. I’ll be out of your hair in a second.”
“You can stay,” Nico says softly with a smile from where he’s standing behind the couch. She just waves him off, pours out a cup of coffee, quickly fixes herself some hummus toast with feta on top and slips back into his room.
She sets her food down carefully on the bedside table and eats while scrolling through her email and social media. She even puts her headphones in so she’s not tempted to listen to the guys through the wall.
It’s about a half an hour later when she hears a faint knock on the door. She calls out a “come in” and takes out her Airpods with a smile when Nico peeks his head in.
“Hi Schatz.”
“Hey. What’s up?”
“The boys wanna say hi,” she opens her mouth to protest but he beats to her to it. “We’re pretty much done. Pizza’s coming any minute so we’re just chilling out now.”
Clementine grabs her empty plate and mug, rising up to her toes to press a kiss on his cheek. “Breaking the diet?”
“We just won a tough back to back. We deserve it.”
“Sure you do,” she chuckles as he playfully swats her butt. They walk back out into the living room together and she rolls her eyes as everyone cheers. Nico heads back to the living room as she heads into the kitchen to start another pot of coffee, politely nudging Dawson and Dougie out of her way.
Nico’s apartment is spacious, but twenty plus hockey players all crowding around make it feel much smaller than normal. Clementine decides to swing herself on top of the counter to chat with Luke and John, mostly content with listening to them talk.
When she hears a chorus of laughter, she turns to the living room to see what’s going on to already see quite a few of the guys looking at her. She raises an eyebrow at Nico, who she swears has a slight blush painting his cheeks. But he doesn’t shy away and beams at her instead. With some boldness, she bounces over to him, squeezing in beside him on the couch. He leans into her touch automatically. She wonders if this is a side of their captain his team hasn’t seen much before.
That last thought has her hesitant for a second, but as if Nico can sense it, he takes her hand off his shoulder and kisses the back of it before going back to a previous conversation with Jesper. Her hand remains in his. She catches Timo’s close-lipped smile and Nate’s visible delight. Clementine just sends them a wink before leaning into Nico’s side.
Without missing a beat in laughing at something Jesper says, Nico places a kiss in her hair.
(Later, as the team is starting to filter out of Nico’s apartment, Jonas pulls him aside. Nico is immediately on high alert when Jonas decidedly switches to their native language. They don’t do that often during the season.
“She’s great. Clementine,” Jonas starts.
Nico’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Yeah? You think so?”
“Yeah,” they both look over to the other side of the living room, where she’s in the midst of a playful debate about something with Jack and Jesper. Though from the way she punches Jack in the arm, maybe it’s not so playful. “I know we met at the end of last season, but I wanted to give it some time. She’s weirdly perfect for you.”
“Spit it out, Jonas,” Nico stares at him.
Jonas just stares back for a bit before letting out a small chuckle. “I’m really happy for you, truly. You deserve someone like her.”
“Like her?”
“Yeah. Someone smart, beautiful and who will be just as all in as you are.”
Nico looks down at his feet, heat rising up his neck all of a sudden. “She’s the best, really. Kinda keeps me sane without even trying.”
“That’s all you can ask for from a partner,” Jonas pats his shoulder once before calling out a goodbye to everyone.
Clementine rushes over to give Jonas a quick goodbye hug. Nico feels himself falling and not wanting anyone to catch him.)
…..
The universe is on their side for the 10 year anniversary of Miguel’s death, with the Canucks scheduled to play in town the day after. Ellen, Jim, Quinn, Jack, Amelie, Luke, Maeve, Clementine and Nico all go out to brunch on New Year’s Day, before heading to the cemetery.
They’re all bundled up as they lay out a few blankets, lay down their flowers and some of Miguel’s favorite food and snacks. The cemetery is quiet, but it’s quickly filled with everyone’s laughter as they share their favorite memories and reminisce. Quite a few tears are shed and the tissue box is passed around often.
When they’re about to leave, everyone gets their individual moments by his tombstone to pay their last respects. Clementine and Maeve let the Hughes’s go first, hands intertwined with each other. Then, Clementine and Maeve step up and the young woman swallows, her mom’s head falling on her shoulder. With one last squeeze, Maeve steps back and gently ushers Nico to stand next to his girlfriend despite his gentle protests.
The second she feels Nico’s arm draping across her back, Clementine lets out a sob as she buries part of her face into his jacket. It’s not a sad sob, but it’s not a happy one. She’s happy he’s here with her. She wishes her dad could meet him and love him as much as she knows he would.
Once they reach the bottom of the hill, Quinn reaches out to squeeze her hand. She keeps her right hand in his as Nico’s pressed against her left side. She stares ahead at her mother pressed between Ellen and Jim with Jack, Amelie and Luke right behind them in a similar embrace.
The birds are chirping. The sound of the wind is made even more noticeable as it whistles through the leaves. The sun is shining, not a single cloud in the sky.
Clementine feels peace settle into her heart.
#fucking finally lol everyone cheered#k writes#hockey fanfiction#nhl#nhl fic#hockey fic#new jersey devils#devils#nico hischier#nico hischier fic#nico hischier x oc#quinn hughes#jack hughes#luke hughes#nico hischier blurb#nico hischier writing#hockey writing#nhl writing#nhl blurb#hockey blurb#the blue au
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