#thankfully ive just had my room inspection a few days ago

[fruitsilly]

Whoopsie 😬

[toplinetommy]

Kill My Lonely Nights - Tyson Jost

a/n: after plotting and replotting this fic for over a month its finally here. my baby and definitely my most favorite thing ive ever written. hope everyone enjoys it as much as i do.

tagging @bqstqnbruin​ thanks for being my beta and for bouncing ideas around with me and also my fav josty whores 😇 @justjosty​ @hookingminor​ @farbutnevergone

Synopsis: tyson finally meets jt’s neighbor — and he’ll stick by her side through her ‘i’m a single and independent woman’ phase as long as jt doesn’t find out

songs: im so tired - lauv, troye sivan; better than heaven - slander; cherry on top - olmos, kyle reynolds

words: 20k+

warnings: alcohol, smut, unprotected sex​

“Tyson, you know my neighbor right?”

You roll your eyes at JT’s way of introducing the two of you, because, no, you did not know the curly-headed brunette in front of you. You had seen him in passing a few times when he was over at JT’s but you never learned his name. In fact, the only thing you knew about him was that they were teammates and you got that from deductive reasoning since he was always dressed in some sort of Avalanche merch. 

“I’m y/n,” you smile, sticking out your hand for the stranger to shake. 

“Tyson,” the no longer nameless stranger responds, a quirky smile on his lips.

“It’s nice to finally put a name to the face,” you respond, your cheeks heating up as you look over him. He’s cute in that quirky way where his head’s a mess of curls, his eyes full of joy, and his shoulders filling out the grey Avs hoodie quite nicely. 

“Same here,” Tyson agrees, shoving his hands into his sweatpants pockets. You continued to gather the few things in the living room that were yours before finding your phone charger and giving JT a hug. 

“I’ll see you when you get back from Chicago yeah?”

“Yep, have a good birthday!” JT cheers, from his spot on the couch.

With that you bid Tyson and JT a goodbye, choosing to wave at Tyson instead of showing an outright affection towards the stranger. The door shuts behind you as you walk a few feet down the carpeted hallway to your own door. 

“Dude,” Tyson starts, turning his attention back on his buddy from where it was lingering on the now-closed door. 

“No-”

“You don’t even know what I’m gonna say!” Tyson incredulously interrupts.

“You’re gonna tell me she’s hot because, yeah, anyone can see that. She’s going through this thing she’s been calling a ‘guy cleanse’,” JT explains, putting finger quotes around guy cleanse. Tyson brushes the comment aside, not bothering to ask any more questions. If he’d want to get to know you, he knows he’d have to do it without JT’s help. JT always had this thing of being overprotective over the women in his life, especially being a guy that grew up in hockey with three little sisters.

Another week or so passes before Tyson sees you again. It’s when he’s getting into the elevator after getting dinner with his JT, and you’re just getting home from what Tyson presumes is work and maybe even the liquor store with the purse and lunch box hanging in the crease of your elbow as well as the case of Truly’s in your other hand.

“Hey, it’s y/n, right?” Tyson says in lieu of a greeting. He holds the elevator open for you as you step out, thinking of ways to keep the conversation longer than a simple greeting. 

“Yeah,” you smile, warmly at him. He can see that your hands are full as you try to shovel through your bag in search of your keys as you take another step towards your door towards the end of the hallway. “Well, uh, have a good night Tyson.”

Tyson watches as you turn away with a small smile, and suddenly he’s stumbling over his words, trying to make the moment last longer. He’s rarely ever seen you around, most times in passing in this very hallway and the occasional time JT talked to you on the phone when they were on the road. You didn’t go to games, you didn’t hang out with the team, and you were never over at JT’s when Tyson would show up.

But when he had officially met you the other week when you were leaving JT’s apartment, he was transfixed and curious about the girl JT always talked about but never brought around.

“Do you wanna come in for a drink?” You ask, nodding to the case in your hand. You’re asking as more of a common courtesy than anything else, but you can tell that he’s waiting for you to make the next move regarding this run-in with him. The peachiness of his cheeks and his hands shoved into his jacket pockets are proof of that.

“You sure?”

“Any friend of JT is a friend of mine,” you smile, opening your front door and gesturing for Tyson to go in before you.

“Yeah, okay,” Tyson smiles, taking another step towards you and reaching out for the box of Truly’s. “Let me take that for you.”

Tyson graciously takes the case from you and steps through the doorway of your apartment, suddenly losing any train of thought he once had now that he’s in an apartment he’s never been in. He sees the fridge across the way and decides he’ll just stick the drinks in there. There’s thankfully space in the fridge for them and he watches you shred your raincoat and heels by the door. “So, uh, how do you know JT? Like, I know you guys are neighbors but he’s always referring to you as his best friend. I honestly didn’t even know that you lived next to him until the other week.”

You laugh, thinking back to how you even met JT. It was nowhere near being a typical introduction between neighbors, it was honestly pretty far from that. “So, whenever he first moved here like two years ago, I was sitting in my car in the parking garage on the phone with my dad, and this car parks next to me and the driver gets out and completely dings my car. I’m talking a paint scratch that’s starting to rust now.”

“He’s pretty unaware of his space,” Tyson laughs, knowing all too well that his friend did something like that.

“And so, I get out of my car, and I confront him about it, and he apologizes and whatever, not a big deal. But then he gets off the elevator with me and I’m thinking this guy’s gotta be a creep since he’s barely talking to me but then he pulls out his keys and is unlocking the door next to mine, and now he bugs me all the time,” you smile, Tyson making space for you to go into the fridge he’s currently standing in front of. 

“You see that picture frame over there?” you nod your head to the wall your TV is mounted on. Tyson walks over to it, inspecting it and noting that neither of the people in it are you or JT. “There’s paint missing behind it because when he was helping me mount my TV he hit the wall with the drill. He got me the frame to cover it but I still haven’t gotten around to putting a picture there.”

Tyson’s eyebrows quirk up, “and how long has it been there?”

“Uh, maybe a year?” you answer, your tone making it sound more like a question as you blush. Tyson only laughs at you, fully understanding how something like that can slip from your mind. You offer him a Truly at that, him not missing an opportunity to chirp you since your flavor of choice was lime, even though his was black cherry, which in your mind was the most basic flavor there was.

He sits across from you at the island while you stand opposite of him, leaning on the granite in front of you. He can’t get enough of your laughter, finding it’s something you do quite often as the two of you share stories. You, on the other hand, have to stop yourself from blushing since he doesn’t break eye contact with you once. It’s starting to get late and you still haven’t eaten dinner, so with an empty Truly in hand, Tyson is reluctantly getting up to head home to prepare for his early practice and flight tomorrow. He doesn’t want to impose on you any further, considering you were essentially strangers an hour ago.

You wave goodbye at him as he walks down the hallway to the elevator, a smile on your face as he nearly runs into Mr. Harter, the man that lives at the end of the hallway. You laugh as he apologizes profusely, something you amount to his Canadian upbringing.

Tyson curses himself over the next few days for not getting your number, and there’s no way in hell he’s asking JT for it. He doesn’t know how he’ll go about getting it, and the possibility of him running into you to get it is slim, with the fact that the Avs have a nine-day roadie on the upper East Coast. He figures he’ll try to ask JT more about you over the course of the trip, and then hopefully weasel his way into getting it.

It’s three days into the roadie and they’re sitting next to each other on the flight from Ottawa to Toronto. JT is busy on his iPad, and Tyson looks around him, seeing Cale and Gravy reading books, and G is passed out behind him. Tyson nudges JT’s shoulder with his, JT pulls out his AirPod and looks towards his buddy.

“So, y/n, eh?” He jumps right in, watching as JT rolls his eyes and moves to put his AirPod back in. “You said she doesn’t date?”

“Correct.”

“Why’s that? She seems like she wouldn’t have any issue in that department.”

“First off, that’s gross. Secondly, even if she was dating, you aren’t allowed to try anything,” Tyson chooses to ignore that part but continues to listen anyway. “She’s just like focused on herself, I don’t know. She knows her worth and knows what she deserves. She’s been single for as long as I’ve known her. It’s no bullshit with her, in every aspect of her life.” JT shrugs his shoulders as he talks. He’s not an expert on the topic because it’s not one you really talk about with him considering it’s just not really a huge part of your life.

Tyson hums along as he listens to JT talk, trying his best not to show why he’s even asking these questions in the first place. He takes what his friend says in stride, not being one to have gone through a phase like the one you’re going through. In fact, Tyson’s never been someone to say no to a date, fully taking advantage of the pro-athlete lifestyle he’s been living for years now. JT knows this, knows what it’s like to be 22, and all eyes on you. 

He was there once, but he’s been with Sydney for over two years now. JT knows the locker room talk that goes on within hockey teams, he’s been living it his whole life. Yeah, the Denver room has been the best and the calmest when it comes to comments about guys’ dating lives, but the occasional whistle and chirp is made when one of the single guys has a story to share. The last thing he wants is to hear your name in one of those scenarios.

He doesn’t get your number during that road trip, can’t even find you on social media so he puts his efforts on pause. He even went through the list of people JT followed, your name not coming up once. Come to think of it, he doesn’t even know your last name.

Soon January is ending and February is starting, the season kicking into high gear as the all-star breaks ends and the playoff push truly begins. Tyson still hasn’t seen you around other than the occasional run-in, and you honestly haven’t given him much thought since that night in late January. Your life has always been chaotic, but still in the most organized way, and you’ve barely seen JT with the way his game schedule is laid out. But the middle of February brings Sydney to town and brings too many parties while she’s around.

It’s at Andre’s place where you see Tyson again, warm pleasantries shared between the two of you. He’s a little confused as he watches you chat with almost everyone there, the weird feeling coming from the fact that most people filling the apartment are on the Avalanche roster. He wonders if you’ve already met most of them or if you’re just that outgoing.

Tyson finally makes his way over to you, two cans in hand as he offers you the one with green lettering with a smile.

“A lime White Claw? That’s the way to my heart,” you joke, placing your hand over your heart before taking his offering.

“I was asking around to see if there were any Truly’s,” Tyson laughs, waving his hand around. “But I hope the White Claw is okay.”

“A White Claw definitely isn’t as good as a Truly but it’s a close second, thank you.”

“Right!” Tyson agrees, “People think they all taste the same but there’s a clear hierarchy of which seltzers are better than others.” You laugh along with Tyson at his comment in complete agreement. You tell him your own tier list of seltzers, starting with Truly’s and ranking the Bud Light ones as the worst.

“I’ve only had a few of them, but I’ll take your word for it,” The laughter between the two of you dies down before JT finds you, saying he’s been looking for you for a little bit.

“It’s not my fault I’m hidden by all these huge men,” you roll your eyes, pointing around the room that’s filled with men all over six feet tall.

“Did you know your neighbor was a hard seltzer connoisseur?” Tyson asks with a quirk of his eyebrow, causing you to scoff. You were nowhere being a ‘connoisseur’ of sorts.

JT takes a sip of his drink, “She’s an alcohol connoisseur period, bud.” WIth that JT disappears to go find his girlfriend, leaving the two of you alone. Tyson’s face is filled with confusion at JT’s comment, not entirely sure what his comment even meant.

“I used to bartend in college,” you answer his silent question. “Which makes me JT’s personal bartender most nights.”

“Maybe I’ll have to get you to make me a drink sometime then,” Tyson suggests. It’s a little too forward for his liking but it just slips out, and you giggle at his attempt at flirting. His tan cheeks have a pink flush to them, and you’re sure it’s not from the alcohol since most people have only been here for an hour or so.

“C’mon,” you nod your head in the direction of the kitchen. Tyson silently follows you, weaving between the people and the furniture. “I can get you that drink right now.”

Once you make it to the kitchen you look around the counters, taking note of the different types of liquors laid out. Tyson watches you as your hands move around, picking up and setting down various bottles. When you’re satisfied with your concoction, you hand him a shot glass, one in your own hand to match his.

“It’s a shooter,” you inform him. He puts trust in you, clinging your glass with his own and bringing the glass to his lips as he tips his head back. Your eyes stay on him as his tongue pokes out to swipe the extra liquid off his lips before you realize you haven’t even taken yours yet. His eyes stay locked on you as you throw your own shot back, your eyes reconnecting when you set the glass on the counter next to you.

A shiver runs through you as his eyes watch your every move. You hadn’t noticed it with any of your other previous run-ins with him but he’s intimidating in that way where his presence is radiating that good kind of confidence. You watched him, unbeknownst to him, as he made his way around the room before ever making it to you.

“So what was that you just gave me?” He asks, crossing his ankles and leaning further on the counter behind him. You move to stand next to him, your shoulder brushing his cotton-covered bicep.

“It’s called a lemon drop shot, it’s just vodka and lemon juice so nothing too special,” you shrug, turning to look up at him. “Maybe I’ll get around to making you more drinks.”

Tyson smirks lightly at your comment, his hands gripping the counter behind him. He remembers what JT told him not too long ago about you, and how you’re someone that doesn’t put up with bullshit when it comes to relationships and his heart deflates a bit. He’d much rather keep talking to you and eventually kiss you, but he knows deep down that’s not what he wants with you either. He can tell from your brief encounters that this could be way more than just a few dates, so he holds back and instead bites his lip before pulling his phone out of his pocket.

He passes it over to you, and you hesitate taking it as you look between the black phone and his brown eyes, “so we can plan a time for you to make me drinks.”

“Ah, I see, I see,” you quip back, taking the phone from his hands and opening a new message and typing in your phone number. You respond back to him on your phone, showing that you got the text and opening up the contact to save his information. “Should I put in some funny name for your contact or is Tyson good enough?”

Tyson laughs fully at that, his chest rumbling for a moment before he calms down and tells you his name is just fine for now, “but I won’t complain if you find a better name for me.” Tyson scratches the back of his head for a moment as he places his phone onto the counter next to him, trying to find the words to keep the conversation going.

You leave not too long after that, catching an Uber with JT and Sydney back to your place. Tyson stays near your side most of the night, giving you a full hug as you leave and a promise of texting you soon.

You see Tyson the next morning at brunch with JT and Sydney, his strong, muscular thighs touching yours in the small booth. You get some fancy french toast, Sydney eyeing you from where she sits across from you. She’s been a close friend of yours ever since JT introduced the two of you whenever she first visited. Her eyes keep flicking between you and Tyson and you give her a stern look, silently telling her to knock it off.

“So, y/n,” she starts, a smirk forming on her lips. “How’s the dating life?”

You scoff with a laugh at her question. She knows well enough how that aspect of your life is doing considering you text her on a pretty regular basis. You choose not to answer, the scoff you let out being enough. 

“Besides, no guy is good enough for her, right?” JT asks, looking over at you continuing his girlfriend’s train of thought. His eyes glance over at Tyson sitting next to you and Tyson ignores the look his teammate gives him. 

“You mean the idiots you always try to set me up with? The ones that don’t live in Denver?” You quip back with a raise of your eyebrows. It’s more of a joke than anything else, but Tyson doesn’t quite understand your tone and mannerisms yet.

His heartbeat speeds up momentarily, thinking that if you hadn’t had any interest in any of JT’s other friends, you definitely wouldn’t have an interest in him. Besides, he may live in Denver now, but that’s not even the whole year when you account for traveling and the offseason.

You miss it, but Tyson changes the subject anyways, which is something you’re grateful for. Brunch passes by and when the waitress comes back with two checks, you knit your eyebrows.

“Actually, could I have my own check? We aren’t together,” you stumble, cheeks heating up at the misinterpretation of yours and Tyson’s relationship.

Tyson takes the check from your outstretched hand, “it’s fine, I got it.”

He’s talking more to you than to the waitress as he smiles warmly at you. You thank him quickly, but not before saying you have enough cash to take care of the tip. He doesn’t argue, following the three of you out of the restaurant and to your car. The two of you linger a little further back than JT and Sydney, both of you reveling in the comfortable silence. 

“Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?” You ask.

“Not really, I was probably gonna call my mom and maybe do my laundry,” Tyson answers.

“Do you want to come over and hang out instead? I’m just gonna third wheel the two of them but maybe we can find something to do that’s more interesting than laundry.”

Tyson laughs at the third wheeling comment you make, being all too familiar with being the third wheel around most of his friends. “Sure, yeah, I’ll just follow you all then?”

“That sounds good. I’ll see you in a few,” you say goodbye with a smile and a shy wave, hopping into the backseat of JT’s SUV.

Once you get home, Tyson’s knocking on your door a few minutes later with the same warm smile he seems to always have. He sheds his winter coat as he enters your apartment, throwing it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. He notes the change in clothes, as you’re now wearing an olive green crewneck instead of the wrap top with flowy sleeves you were wearing at the restaurant a few moments prior.

“You a big reader?” He asks, picking up and inspecting the book that’s laid out on the kitchen island. The Power of Now, it reads on the cover. He flips through the first few pages and goes to the back cover to read the reviews.

“Sometimes, it depends on what it is, but I usually just go through phases where I read in all of my free time and then I won’t touch a book again for the next few months,” you admit with a small laugh. “That one’s really good so far though. It’s just about how to live more presently and in the moment.”

Tyson nods his head as he listens, his eyes on you as you speak, “Cale really likes reading this kind of stuff, I should tell him about it.”

“Which one is Cale, again?” You ask, mentally going through the Colorado roster. 

This causes Tyson to laugh, “JT really doesn’t bring you around much, eh.”

You laugh along with him, “not really, but that’s on me sometimes. I go to bed too early for my own liking.”

Tyson’s confused as to why he’s never really seen you before at anything. Guys on the team are always bringing their friends around if they can. At first he thought he just always missed you, but he knows he wouldn’t miss someone as carefree and beautiful as you. Nevertheless, he’s glad he’s sitting in your kitchen right now, and to top it all off, he didn't even have to ask you to hang out first.

“Do you read at all?” You ask curiously. You really knew next to nothing about the man in front of you other than that he was Canadian, played hockey, and preferred Truly’s over White Claws (his favorite flavor was still to be unknown to you).

Tyson chokes out a laugh at your question, “No. When we travel I usually play random games with Sammy and he’s been teaching me French. I still don’t know much so don’t go asking me to say anything.”

“Duly noted,” you nod. You move to the pantry, looking for a few things as you continue to respond. “Like I said, my interest in reading comes in waves and you barely speaking French is better than me only knowing English.”

You continue rifling through your pantry, pulling out everything you know you need. You’ve just finished setting all of the dry ingredients you’d need to make brownies when Tyson asks you what the hell you’re doing.

“I was thinking we could make brownies,” you respond, opening your fridge and pulling out the milk, butter, and eggs. You hear the island chair scratch against the hardwood, indicating Tyson getting up.

“Wait a second,” Tyson says causing you to turn around with a confused look on your face. “Are these the brownies Comph always bringing around that his friend makes?”

“They very much are,” you chuckle. He compliments the baked good one more time before you’re putting him to work. The two of you move seamlessly through your small kitchen, both of you sharing smiles and stories to fill the time. There’s a moment where you see a certain glimmer in his eyes paired with a small smirk and you think he’s about to pull one of his infamous Jost pranks that JT was always telling you about. He doesn’t though, and instead just nudges your hip with his. It seems like you’re looking more at him more than focusing on the flexing of his forearms as he mixes the dry ingredients.

Once it’s time to mix the dry and wet ingredients, Tyson all but misses half the bowl, causing a good chunk of it to land on your crewneck and jeans. The brown powder covered the ‘Disney World’ logo across your chest.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” Tyson rushes out, holding back a laugh, because of course he would embarrass himself in front of you and mess up something as simple as that. You move to the sink, shaking off the loose contents into it to help alleviate any sort of mess.

“You’re fine, I promise,” you reassure, turning around to give him a smile. He smiles nervously back at you, not fully knowing your statement was genuine or if you were trying to spare his feelings. He glanced at your chest, trying to see the damage he had done before realizing he was staring directly at your chest and his cheeks flushed. You walked back over to where he was standing, giving him another smile as you began mixing everything together. 

“Would you, uh, ever wanna grab dinner with me some time?” He asks, voice higher than normal as he speaks, his heart beating nervously for your answer. Your face falls as you hear the question and you slowly turn around to face the curly headed brunette. Tyson is a great guy, it’s obvious to everyone, and you’re not oblivious to the fact that there’s physical attraction between the two of you. It’s that Tyson is best friends with your best friend who also happens to be your neighbor.

You laugh nervously at the question, the question seemingly coming out of nowhere, before you respond, “Sure, it’s not like it’s a date or anything.” 

You brush it off, even though you’re pretty sure he was explicitly asking you out on a date. You turn your focus back to the brownies, popping them in the oven before wandering down your hallway to change into something clean. As Tyson walks over to take a seat on the couch, he sees your retreating figure as you pull your sweatshirt over your head. He stops in his tracks momentarily, seeing your bare back, the skin between your shoulder blades covered by your lacy bralette. He blinks a few too many times as he shakes any thoughts from his head and continues his path to the couch.

Your guys’ friendship quickly develops after that. The two of you starting a snapchat streak and having a long string of text messages involving various TikTok’s and memes alongside the more serious stuff. You seem to be spending more time at JT’s place when Tyson is also there and soon enough Tyson’s leaving JT’s and going the few extra feet to your place instead of home like he says he’s doing.

It’s one of those rare nights where it’s the three of you at JT’s place and you’re all catching up on the latest episode of Hell’s Kitchen. You’re pretty sure JT cheated and watched the new episode already with how quiet he’s being and how absorbed he is in his phone.

“JT, did you already fucking watch this?” You ask, whipping your head to look at the ginger in question. He’s sitting across the room from you in what he claims as ‘his chair’ while you’re sharing the sectional with Tyson, your feet in his lap. “And you wonder why I never watch shows with you. Tyson and I are going to start watching it without you.”

Tyson chuckles at that, his thighs rumbling under your ankles, his hands coming to rest atop of your shins. JT scoffs at you, unaware of your two’s newfound friendship. To him, the only time you ever saw or even talked to Tyson was when he was also around. Besides, he didn’t need to know the ins and outs of every single thing you did in a day, even if Tyson was involved in a good portion of those things.

You let JT’s previous actions of watching your show ahead slide since the episode was finally wrapping up. JT goes back to the Hulu home screen with an exaggerated yawn followed by stretching his arms above his head. It’s then he turns to his two best friends, letting them know he’s going to start heading to bed and that the two of you are more than welcome to hang out for a little while longer. He doesn’t think much of his offering, but it’s one Tyson’s thankful for if it means he gets uninterrupted time with you that isn’t revolving around the team or drinking.

It’s then he remembers how he never found you on social media, something that had bewildered him in the moment but one he forgot about once he got your phone number and snapchat. 

“So, this is gonna sound totally weird but do you have an Instagram?” He asks, infliction in his voice and ears turning pink at the question. He remembers how not too long ago he did some heavy duty deep dives into JT’s social media to see if he could find your name only to come up empty handed. Your stomach tightens and the thought of him looking for you, and you definitely don’t take it the weird way he’s insinuating.

“No, I don’t,” you respond, sitting up further in the corner of the couch, Tyson bravely holding onto your ankles. “Which definitely makes me the outlier of our generation. I had it for a while but then I kinda just got sick of it and how fake it was starting to get, so I deleted my account. I have not missed even once, too.”

He nods his head in understanding, he’s been there, especially with being a professional athlete. “I’ve been there. I deleted my twitter a while ago because every time I got on there some nobody would be in my notifications about how I was playing. I really didn’t need that, ya know? Like, I play hockey for a living and I’m very aware of when I’m underperforming. So, it was hard when I would get on my phone and see other people telling me the same things.”

Tyson’s fingers began to brush comfortably over your shins and ankles as he spoke, causing you to start slouching back into the couch. 

“I’ve gone back and forth with deleting Instagram but I just can’t seem to make a decision. Besides, I only follow my friends and musicians I like.”

“It’s definitely not for everyone,” you agree with a hum. “The biggest plus is that it gets me off my phone and I’m more absorbed with the real world. It’s all in that book I was reading a while ago that you asked about.”

Tyson remembers that conversation, a smile falling on his lips as he hands rub higher and higher on your calf. The movements are causing you to yawn not a minute later, but you try hard to keep your eyes open to continue to hang out with Tyson. “You a big music guy then?”

Tyson scoffs with a small, playful grip on your leg, “I get the aux in the locker room, so I’d say so. Not a big deal.”

You laugh at his joking manner, snuggling deeper into JT’s couch. Tyson notices how sleepy you’re becoming and he gives your leg another squeeze.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you home,” Tyson suggests as he slips from underneath you to his feet.

You chuckle at that, considering you're more than capable to walk the few feet from JT’s door to your own. Before you can respond saying just that, Tyson’s reaching his hand for yours to help you off the couch.

“My mom raised me to be a gentleman, so I’m walking you home even if it is down the hall.”

You accept his offer, the two of you walking in silence until you’re pushing your key into the lock. You turn back to Tyson once you’ve cracked your door open, wanting to take in the silent, all-too-relationship-like feeling this scenario is. Tyson’s eyes drift from where they’re focused on your eyes to your lips, before he’s scratching the back of his head, a sign of nervousness you’ve quickly caught on to.

“Goodnight, Tyson,” you smile softly, leaning up on your sock clad toes to wrap your arms around his neck and give him a hug. His arms wrap around your middle; his back bending over at an awkward angle to properly reach you. You breathe in his musky scent as his hands spread out over the small of your back. The scruffiness of his beard against the side of your face has you giggling as you pull away. 

“Goodnight, y/n,” Tyson reciprocates your smile, walking a few steps backwards before finally turning around and heading to the elevator. Your eyes linger on his toned thighs and maybe even his butt under the cotton of his joggers as he walks the all too familiar way hockey players walk, before finally entering your apartment.

JT’s sitting on your couch this time around, rather than you sitting on his, a too large glass of wine perched in his hand as the two of you catch up. He’s been busy with morning skates and a string of back-to-backs with a road game sprinkled in the middle. It’s getting to be that part of the season where it’s ‘all gas, no breaks’ as he likes to say. They had an earlier than normal game today due to it being a national broadcast on a Sunday, so the two of you ordered take out from one of your usual spots and parked your asses on your couch for the night.

“I feel like we haven’t had best friend time in so long,” JT groans, sipping down the remnants of his wine before standing up for a refill.

“Not all of us can travel the continent on a regular basis,” you chirp with a laugh, one JT matches. The tv show murmurs in the background, it’s one you completely forgot about as JT relates stories and updates on his sisters to you.

“I still can’t believe Jesse graduates soon,” JT starts. “Like, soon when we go to Boston it won’t be the annual family trip since two of the kids are actually in the same city for a change.”

“But that’s so awesome for her, you have to remember that. How’s her season going?”

“They’re doing good, winning games and taking names, she’s really stepped into her captaincy role.” The smile on JT’s face is contagious, causing you to mirror it. You had only met his family a handful of times, only whenever they made the trip out to Denver every now and then. His sister’s, even if you didn’t talk to them regularly, were like your own at this point. JT loved to joke that you were the third sister he never wanted but still somehow ended up with. It was part of the reason he was always trying to set you up with his friends, because to him, if he already knew them, then he knew he trusted them with you. It was more of a joke when it first started over a year ago, but the guy’s he mentioned started to become more serious considerations on your end before you ended up always telling him no.

You were more than okay with being single, being independent, being a woman that never looked for male validation and instead lived life purely for yourself and the people you choose to include with you in that life. JT understood that more than anyone else, that’s why the thoughts you consistently had about Tyson were being shoved deep down inside of you in fear that JT would laugh at the idea and tell you not a chance in hell. It’s why those times you caught each other staring you never did anything about it, or how JT was still unbeknownst to the close friendship you started with him.

It’s why now there’s a silence between the two of you as you take a too-long sip of your wine, a way to stall before opening your mouth and getting JT’s opinion on all of this. You set your glass down on your thigh, your spare hand running along the stem of the glass as you start to speak, avoiding looking over at JT as you do so,

“You know how I don’t date or whatever,” you start, your lip caught between your teeth. You glance over at the redhead on the other couch, seeing him knit his eyebrows as he sets his phone down next to him.

“Yeah,” he draws out, confusion laced in his tone

“Well, I was thinking of maybe getting back out there or something,” you shrug your shoulders, unsure of how to really continue this conversation so you end up on the topic of Tyson being that someone you get back out there with.

“Did someone ask you out?” JT immediately asks with a shake of his head, wondering where all of this is coming from. His full attention is on you now and there’s no way to avoid his eyes as you respond.

“No, I was just thinking about it, I don’t know.”

“Did you, like, have someone in mind?” JT asks, the definitive knit in his forehead still there.

You purse your lips in thought. This would be the time to drop his teammate’s name you think to yourself. His name is heavy on your tongue as you take one more sip of your drink, “Tyson’s kinda cute.”

You say it simply, with a shrug in your shoulders, hoping the ease of your posture radiates towards JT. It doesn’t, just as you expect, a choked out cackle leaving his lips, before he says a harsh ‘no’. The comment deflates you, the knot in your stomach only tightening, mainly because you weren’t really asking him a question and just trying to get that thought out into the open for the first time. JT doesn’t read that as you respond back, telling him was just a thought anyways.

You drop it at that, thoughts running through your head of your close friendship with his teammate, one that’s very close to blurring that line between just friends and something more. It's a problem for another day you think, shoving the thought to the back of your mind as Tyson’s name flashes across your phone screen.

A few more weeks pass of Tyson and you hanging out at JT’s apartment, only for Tyson to follow you to your own apartment before he’d leave for the rink for his game. He slowly began going through his pre-game routine at your place, only to leave with JT under the guise that they would carpool together since his apartment building was on his way to Ball Arena.

Tyson’s cooking his pregame meal in your kitchen, something he had yet to do but when you had told him you had never eaten squash the other day, he made a point to make it his favorite way, even if it meant eating dinner at 4:30. His game day suit was hanging by his coat in your coat closet, you wouldn’t tell him but it was your favorite suit of his. The navy cashmere made the highlights in his dark brown hair pop out and was a nice contrast to his tan skin. He was taking the squash out of the oven, laughing as you made yet another comment on not knowing that was how a squash was cooked.

“What does a squash even taste like?” You ask, peering over the kitchen table to watch him as he places the pan onto the oven to cool down. The bright yellow and oranges of the fruit freak you out a bit, but the smell of garlic and parmesan cheese brings a smile to your face.

“It’s like earthy and nutty, I don’t know. I’m not a Food Network chef.”

The comment has you rolling your eyes with a laugh as you stand up from your chair to retrieve plates and silverware. 

“What are you doing?” Tyson asks with a whip of his head as his eyes follow your movements.

You look at him quizzically, pausing your movements on your tippy toes as you reach for the dinner plates, “setting the table?”

“I can do that,” Tyson starts, reaching out for the plates in your hand and setting them on the counter in front of you. “I’m the one cooking.”

“Exactly,” you reason, “And this is my apartment so I know where everything is.”

“I’m wining and dining you, well minus the wine since I have a game.” Tyson shrugs, tending to the squash on the pan and the veggies surrounding it. “That reminds me, the guys are going out after the game, you should come.”

You move around the kitchen as he speaks, filling up two glasses of water to set on the table. He plates the food as he finishes speaking and sets them on the table. It looks colorful and delicious and you’re shocked he can cook something that seems so complicated, especially since you know JT can only cook a burger and some random pasta dish.

“Well, I am going to the game so I don’t see why not,” you finally answer. You hadn’t gone out in weeks it seemed like, mainly due to your earlier than normal mornings and that you were the only single one out of most of your friends. All of your coworkers lived with their partners and were usually the type to bail on a night out so they could stay home. The few single friends you did have lived on completely different schedules than you, so they were either getting home late from work which was around the same time you’d need to call it a night, or were like you and too worried about early mornings to do anything.

But it was a Thursday, and you had taken the weekend off so it was a perfect time to catch your first Avs game of the season, even if it was already a few days into March and the season was halfway over. The both of you eat your dinner with a few laughs, Tyson telling you about how he forced himself to learn to cook over the past two years of living by himself. He even shared a few horror stories of when he lived with JT and Kerf, giving you plenty of dirt to use as blackmail if necessary. 

“Dinner was really good, thank you,” you acknowledge standing up and grabbing his plate from him.

“You liked the squash, eh?”

“It wasn’t too bad,” you reply playfully. He knew you liked it with how quickly you scarfed it down and the profuse compliments you offered him. As you clear off the dishes and load the dishwasher, Tyson disappears down the hall only to reappear dressed in his suit, save for the jacket and tie. 

“Who are you sitting with tonight? I never asked.” Tyson speaks, making the job of tying his tie look easy as he’s not even looking in the mirror to do so.

“Oh, my coworker, Amelia, and her girlfriend, Gabby,” you respond, leaning back against the counter as you watch Tyson finish up with the details of his suit like putting his cufflinks on and checking his hair in the mirror by your front door.

For a reason Tyson knows too well but ignores, a weight falling off his shoulders as he hears you saying you’re not going with a potential date. But then again, he knows you’re not dating and you more than likely would’ve declined his offer to go out afterward if that were the case. Tyson checks his watch for the time, seeing it’s about time to knock on JT’s door to grab him.

“So, I’ll see you after the game, yeah?”

“Yep, I’ll meet you and JT down by the locker rooms so we can all head out together. Maybe I’ll finally get to meet the infamous Cale.”

The Avs scoot by with a tough division win, one that’s needed to put them in first place in the Central by two points. You’re standing in the hallway of the locker rooms among the other WAG’s that you don’t really recognize due to your lack of knowledge on who’s who. Your nose is buried deep in your phone as you shoot off a text to Amelia telling her to let you know when she gets home safely when you recognize Tyson’s familiar Canadian accent followed by JT’s booming laughter. The two of them reach you, both of them giving you quick hugs before walking to the parking garage.

“Who’s jersey you got on there?” Tyson asks with a nudge of his shoulder into yours. You look down at the 19 stitched into your shoulder with a smirk.

“Only the best Av to ever play the game,” you respond, to which JT rolls his eyes. Tyson’s look of confusion doesn’t change as you answer, still pretty keen to the fact that you’ve never really talked hockey with him besides the stories about practices he’d share with you. “Never told you I didn’t like hockey, just said I never went to games.”

“I’ve tried to get her one of my jerseys and she literally told me she’d return it,” JT interrupts before Tyson can respond. You open your mouth to chirp him back but before you can, JT is calling shotgun once Tyson’s car is in view.

The bar isn’t as packed as you thought it would be, given half of the Avalanche roster was occupying more than a few booths. Andre takes a seat across from where you’re sandwiched between JT and Tyson - a seating arrangement you’re not sure how you got in.

The first round of drinks slowly turns into the third, and you’re no longer squished between two bruly hockey players since JT has found a home at the pool table with Nate and Naz. You had finally met Cale, the blush on cheeks matching Tyson’s description of them. You shared book recommendations with one another while Tyson had wandered off to the bar. It’s then you learn that Tyson’s kind of taken him under his wing, despite the very small age gap and that they live in the same building. Your eyes catch him as he chats with the bartender and a dirty blonde that’s close to his height that you very much did not recognize.

She’s all legs and has an award winning smile from what you see from fifteen away. Tyson’s turned away from you, his back facing you, and if you could see his face filled with that smile that’s showing he’s just trying to be polite to the stranger.

It’s then that you start to fully allow yourself to notice not only the physical attraction you feel towards your new friend, but the emotional one as well. It’s not overwhelming by any means, but the pit in your stomach can only be described as jealousy — a feeling you don’t have much experience with. 

You see two new glasses being set in front of them at the same time, assuming that Tyson had bought the stranger a drink. That pit in your stomach only tightens, the smile on your face from Cale’s story falling as you continue to watch them interact. 

The pair only talk for a few minutes before the girl walks away, a defeated look on her face. With he departure, you make your way across the hardwood floor to meet him at the bar, nudging his side lightly as you mirrored his stance. He smiled as you greeted him, noting that this was the first time in hours he got you all to himself. You were just as outgoing as he and JT were, always butting into conversations when you had something to say. 

“I never asked if you had fun at the game,” he asks, voice somehow still soft even in the loudness of the bar. His voice raises goosebumps on your arms, as you hum before responding.

“It was fun, definitely a good game, just a little too much third wheeling for my liking but I’ll take what I can get.”

The comment is a nod to the feeling Tyson knows all too well, one the two of you seem to always share funny stories about with a dramatic use of eye rolls. You ignore the fact that not even a few minutes prior you were plotting that girl’s death, too busy and entranced with Tyson’s presence.

The night continues to pass with just the two of you in your own little world. You find yourself up on your tiptoes, an arm resting on his muscular bicep as you lean up to speak into his ear. His lips move alongside your temple as he speaks, the scruff of his beard against your forehead causing you to giggle. You’re not even sure if JT or any of the other guys are even still around, but your bubble pops as JT calls your name. You turn your body towards the ginger, your hand on Tyson’s bicep not moving as he says that you two should find an Uber soon.

“Okay, yeah, sure. I’ll be out in a sec, Tyson was just telling me a story,” you let him know. JT knits his eyebrows at the comment but walks outside with a few of the other guys all heading home.

“How are you getting home?” You ask Tyson once you’re face to face with him again.

“Cale and I are gonna Uber back, too,” Tyson answers, his tongue swiping over his lips slowly. Your eyes watch his movement as time seems to slow down as the two of you keep your eyes focused on the others. His eyes are squintier than normal from the alcohol and you’re yours match his in that regard. You’re pretty sure he’s about to kiss you and for once, you’re actually going to let that person kiss you.

Tyson’s eyes flick behind you momentarily before you see his body semi-deflate. He steps away, your hand falling off his bicep for the first time in at least an hour as he picks up his blazer that’s draped over the stool next to him and nods towards the door.

“I think JT’s looking for you.”

Sure enough when you turn around, JT is in the doorway waving his phone in the air and pointing at it, silently telling you that the Uber is almost here. Your shoulders fall as the moment you were sure was about to happen is ruined. Tyson walks you out of the bar, into the brisk start of Spring air. You’re too busy thinking about how you most definitely would’ve let Tyson kiss you and next thing you know, your foot is slipping on the ice and you’re yelping in surprise.

Tyson catches your waist before you can even hit the cold pavement, and again, you’ve found yourself in a compromising position as Tyson’s face is mere inches from yours. You blink away the embarrassment as JT’s comment about your almost accident goes unnoticed by the both of you. You regather your stance, muttering a quiet thank you to the brunette before hugging him and waving goodbye with a soft smile.

“Dude,” Cale chastises, “You like her don’t you?”

The comment made by his building-mate has him stuttering over his words, trying to figure out an answer that’s not a straight up lie. Cale takes that as his answer, though, rolling his eyes with a heavy sigh as the two find their Uber.

“Does JT know?”

“No, because nothing’s going to happen,” Tyson answers curtly as he slumps his shoulders in his seat. “JT told me I couldn't try anything and I’m going to try and respect that. Besides, she doesn’t date so it’s not like I have a real shot or anything.”

“I don’t know, man. She seemed to jump out of her seat and end our conversation when she saw you talking to that girl.”

Cale’s comment silences the two of them for the remainder of the ride back to their building. Tyson hadn’t really paid mind to the fact that the second that girl left, you had appeared and stayed by his side for the remainder of the night. He brushes it off, blaming his inebriated mind for the overthinking before asking Cale how they’ll get his car in the morning.

Tyson wakes up to his phone dinging with a string of texts from you, a smile on his face when sees your name across his screen.

y/n: not sure what you did to me last night but this is the most hungover ive been in forever y/n: thank god i dont have work y/n: jt is still sleeping so im thinking of ditching him to go get breakfast y/n: you in? Tyson: im down Tyson: do you think we could swing by to get my car from the bar too? was gonna have cale drive me but if you can that’d be great

Getting ready for breakfast feels all too real as you do your hair and pick out an outfit before finally brushing your teeth. You tap your fingers an obnoxious amount of times against your steering wheel as you drive to Tyson’s apartment, your lip stuck between your teeth as you softly sing along to the songs flowing through your speakers.

Sitting across from him in the diner feels a little bit suffocating, the events of last night replaying in your mind. The path your eyes follow tends to keep going to his lips before you realize what you’re doing and snapping them right back up to his eyes or to the coffee in your hand. Those lips you sure you were close to kissing last night. He orders some obnoxiously healthy omelette bowl with enough eggs and potatoes on it to feed a house of four, while you get classic french toast.

You don’t miss that opportunity to chirp him, the weight finally off your shoulders as you lighten the mood. Tyson never really caught onto your weirdness, thinking it was some side effect of your hangover. 

“Is french toast your favorite food or something?” Tyson asks, mouth a little full as he finishes chewing. You knit your eyebrows in confusion, partly because yes, it is your favorite breakfast food, but why would he think that if he’s only ever seen you eat it right now in this very moment? He sees your confusion, answering your question before you can even ask it.

“You got french toast that one time we went out with JT and Sydney.”

“Oh, it is, actually,” it dawns on you then, even though that morning was over a month ago at this point. It’s sweet that he remembers that, your neck warming at his comment.

“It’s not a big deal,” Tyson shrugs, shoving another forkful of egg into his mouth. And shit, did you actually say that out loud to him? That misstep has your neck heating up even further as you take a large swig of your coffee, mainly so the large mug blocks your face from him.

“Besides,” Tyson starts with a heavy laugh. “You just about inhaled that from what I remember, so it has to be your favorite.”

You drop your jaw in shock from his very true accusation, a slight laugh coming out, “You’re a dick.”

“Hey, at least I’m a dick that paid for your meal,” Tyson acknowledges in a lighthearted tone. You smile at him at that, him sending you one right back. “And before you say you can pay for this one, this is that meal I promised you a while back when we made brownies.”

It dawns on you then, was this a date? Did you accidentally on purpose ask Tyson out on a date? Tyson can sense the wheels turning in your head and drops that topic, instead telling you all about this new artist he’s found on Spotify.

That day’s a turning point for your relationship with Tyson. You end up following him back to his place then, a strange sense of deja vu coming through. The rest of the day is spent shaking your respected hangovers on his couch, your feet perched on his lap, his body naturally leaning towards yours.

Your head’s full of what ifs as you drive the short way back to your apartment, thoughts surrounding the feelings you’ve been ignoring when it comes to why Tyson looks at you the way he does or why he’s always sending you Tik Tok’s about your newfound inside jokes. Your friendship with him is easy, he’s an easy guy to catch feelings for and an even easier guy to fully allow yourself to do that with.

The thought of your friendship with JT clouds your thoughts, though. Unsure of what you should even do considering how quickly he shot you down when all you said was that his friend was cute. You don’t think much of it, knowing that the feelings that are starting to show need to be reciprocated for you to even face that next set of problems.

Soon you’re catching yourself focusing on the number 17 jersey skating around the ice instead of 37 when you have the time to watch their games. Tyson’s eyes are the ones you’re always finding in a room and he’s the one always refilling your drink without a thought. He’s the one you text after a particularly rough day, and he does the same when the Avs snap their eight game winning record. He’s slowly taking that spot as your best friend over from his teammate, a spot you’re sure is slowly turning into more.

It’s another one of those nights where he’s the one you're constantly looking for. This time back at Andre’s apartment with the guys and few significant others as you celebrate yet another Avalanche playoff berth.

You’re drinking far less than the crowd surrounding you, fully buzzed on the atmosphere that is clinching the number one seed in the division with still so much time left in the season. Unlike the group of people that have the day off the next day, you have work, but the thought of missing this night for your two best friend’s wasn’t an option when Tyson texted you as soon as he made it to the locker room after the game was won. Tyson’s hand seems to never be empty, but you soon learn he’s been nursing the same beer since he got to Andre’s. There’s a heavy feeling of contentment washing over him as he celebrates his fourth straight playoff appearance, alongside setting a Central Division record for the fastest team to clinch.

The air between you two has that same fuzzy feeling it’s had for a few weeks now, ever since you had gone out to breakfast with him hungover. The high from the win still filling his veins, that same high radiating towards you as you continually find your way back to his side throughout the night.

Tyson catches you slipping out the door as the sun is just about finished setting and follows you a moment later. You’re leaning against the railing with your arms folded atop of it. It’s the easiest thing in the world for Tyson to step in behind you and place his hands on either side of yours, bracketing you against the cool metal. 

The wind blows through your hair, causing you to push some strands back behind your ears as you breathe heavily with Tyson’s new presence.

“You doing alright out here?”’ Tyson asks, one of his laying to rest on top of yours, you fingers interlocking with his.

“Yeah, just wanted to take advantage of Andre’s view,” you respond. Andre’s place had everything, the view of downtown Denver, the suburbs stretching outside of the skyscrapers, but he also had the best view of the mountains you had seen from a complex downtown.

The silence continues between the two of you, the sound of the Denver traffic beneath you filling it out. Tyson’s chest moves behind you with a heavy breath before breaking that silence,

“I talked to my mom this morning.”

“Yeah? How is she?”

“She’s good, but, uh, I called her to tell her about this girl,” he trails off, his chest inflating behind you again as the nerves start to tighten in his stomach. You remain silent, there’s an unspoken understanding that this is something he’s been wanting to get off his chest, something that you too feel the weight of.

“I wanted to tell her about this girl and ask her for advice because it’s complicated since she’s best friends with my best friend who’s also my teammate and I didn’t know if I should put my feelings aside for the sake of my friendship or if I shouldn’t let my friend telling me I couldn’t ask her out stand in the way of my feelings for her.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, the sudden knowledge of the weight his words have. His grip around you had tightened as he spoke, causing you to turn around in his arms slower than you would’ve liked to as your eyes find his. His hands move from the railing to rest on your hips, his grip a little tight yet still soft. Your fingers toy with the hem of his cotton t-shirt, one that accentuates his arms more than you’d like to admit.

You’re not naive, you know that this is that tipping point in your friendship that you’ve been avoiding, yet at the same time anxiously waiting for. He’s right there in front of you, all wide eyed with that playful little glimmer in his eyes and that smile that’s always plastered on his face when he’s with you. It’s the confidence in his smile as he speaks that contradicts the doubt in his eyes and the understanding he has where he knows he needs to take this all slow. He’s not just trying to win you over or get you to bed, he’s trying to show you that he’s what you deserve, that the feelings brewing inside your stomach are two sided.

All of those things are conveyed in the little things and how he hasn’t made any unwarranted moves on you and how he’s always reading the situation before trying anything.

It makes you truly let the feelings you have bubble to the surface as you open your mouth to finally respond, “I don’t think you should ignore your feelings.”

It comes out as a whisper, one where the breaths of air hit Tyson in the chin from how close you two are standing. Nothing else needs to be said, your heart racing in your chest at that first admittance of feelings. Tyson searches your eyes for any sense of doubt, making sure he’s interpreting your words correctly. His hand moves to the junction of your neck, his thumb brushing against the hollow of your cheek. Your hands trail up his sides, brushing the stray curl that’s fallen onto his forehead back in place. He leans into your touch, his nose softly brushing against yours as you close your eyes. His breath fans over your mouth and the hair on his upper lip tickles you before his lips are landing on yours. It’s slow and soft and full of fire as you kiss him back.

You pull apart breathless a few moments later, a smile on your face as you bite your lip. His smile is wider than yours, a sense of smugness behind it. His lips find their way to your forehead, placing a soft, lingering kiss there as he wraps his arms around your body and pulls you tightly to him. A few more heavy breaths are shared before his fingers trail back to your jaw, his thumb running over your bottom lip before pulling you in for another kiss.

His touches are welcome and the chill you felt earlier is gone with his presence, your stomach tightening in a million knots at the man standing before you. Everything he feels is portrayed in his soft eyes and those several moments over the past couple of months where it was just the two of you, getting to know one another much more than you thought you ever would with one of JT’s teammates. The space he gave you as he let you explain your fascination with living the life you did, one with no obsession with social media or what other people thought and one where you carefully curated the people you choose to surround yourself with.

Tyson had slowly worked his way into your heart, one that now had his name written all over it. You smile at the thought, still lost in chocolatey, brown eyes and the way he’s looking at you like the gorgeous view of the Smoky Mountains isn’t right behind you.

“We should go back inside,” you say, breaking the little bubble the two of you had just created. Tyson understands, knowing where the two of you were, knowing who’s just on the other side of the door. Neither of you make any moves to go back inside, and you bask in the cool weather, enjoying the other’s warmth before finally opening the door to the rowdiness that is a bunch of professional hockey players.

JT beckons for you when he sees you come back inside, too drunk to ask where you’ve been for the past fifteen minutes. He’s dragging you to the kitchen, begging you with his eyes to make the room a round of drinks. Tyson smiles at you from a few feet away, silently telling you he’ll find you eventually. He does, making his way to you when everyone’s drink needs are met, his presence causing your stomach to tighten even if he is standing a few feet away from you. 

Both of you lay off the drinks for the rest of the night, already tipsy enough from your drinks earlier and in a silent agreement that there’s more to talk about between the two of you once the crowd thins and everyone's on their way home. JT disappears into thin air it seems like until he’s practically yelling that he’s called an Uber for you two.

“I think I’m actually gonna stay for a little longer,” you answer, eyes drifting over to where Tyson is talking with Cale and Andre. He sees you glance over at him, sending a smile right back your way causing you to blush before telling JT he’s fine to head home and that you’ll text him when you get home.

The room starts to clear out after that, Andre’s front door opening and closing every few minutes as Uber’s are called and before you know it you’re in the back of a Kia Sorento, laughing at the lie Tyson told Cale that led to him getting an Uber by himself and your hands tightly intertwined on your lap.

You find out a few months later that he didn’t lie, he just told him that he had finally gotten the nerve to kiss you.

The elevator ride up to his apartment is full of giggles, those giggles only continuing as he fumbles through unlocking his front door. He tells you to stop making fun of him under his breath, a blush spreading from the tips of his ears to his nose.

He’s pulling you inside once the door is unlocked, causing you to lose your balance from the pull. Your laughs quiet down as he stares down at you, that smile you're familiar with nowhere to be found as he licks his lips. He’s pulling you in with those big, brown eyes of his and then you’re kissing him wildly, barely a few feet into his home.

“We should talk about this,” you mutter against his lips, not fully wanting to break away from him. He’s connecting your lips before you can continue, too addicted to the feeling of finally having his lips on yours.

“What is there to talk about?”

“Us, what this is,” you respond between kisses.

Tyson pulls away this time, resting his forehead against yours. He knows the logistics of all of this needs to be worked out, but right now he doesn’t want to think about how he’s making out with JT’s neighbor or his inevitable murder if JT finds out before one of you can tell him.

“Let’s worry about the consequences tomorrow, because right now I can’t keep my hands off of you,” he reasons, dipping his head down to place his lips right below your jaw. “And if the way you’re kissing me is any sign, then I’d say we’re on the same page about how we feel.”

You moan as Tyson’s teeth nip at the skin, his tongue poking past his lips out onto your neck and goosebumps are popping up all along your skin.

You give into him then, too intoxicated in his warmth and the taste of Bud Light on his mouth. It’s a conversation for you in the morning when you’re both nursing your hangovers over a cup of coffee. Your lips move along his hungrily, his hands gripping your face before sliding down your sides and squeezing your ass through your jeans. You tug your fingers through the long curls behind his ears, him pushing you against the nearest wall with a thud and a rattle of a picture frame.

Your lips move along his softly, the passion and fire laced in it enough to cause a wave of electricity through your veins and down to in between your thighs. He’s towering over you with his big personality and his wide shoulders and you feel like you need to get impossibly closer to him as you pull him in by the fabric of his t-shirt. His hands fall to the wall on either side of your head.

“God, I’m never gonna stop kissing you,” Tyson huffs out, causing a quick chuckle to run through your body. It’s quick because as soon as the words are out of Tyson’s mouth, his lips are already back on yours.

“You’re gonna have to stop kissing me if you want to fuck me,” you mutter out, a sly smirk on your lips as you watch Tyson’s eyes grow darker at the insuination. The hands that were bracketing you against the wall slide down to your jaw, his thumb running over your bottom lip again before pushing past your lips. You keep your eyes on his as you suck on the digit, your tongue swirling around it. His resolve slips away from you for a moment, before his other hand drags down your side until his fingers push under your top, the warm fingers ghosting over the skin of your ribs.

His breath is heavy against you, the growing bulge causing his jeans to tighten around him. You’re feeling bold then, as you feel him against your stomach with his thumb still in your mouth and his hand tight around your jaw. He’s frozen in front of you as he watches your eyes, that stupid smirk finally wiped off his face as your hands move under his shirt, your nails scraping against the tight muscles. You hold back both a comment about his abs and a moan at the feeling, all the hard work he’s put into his body clearly paying off as you push his shirt up his chest and over his head.

Your nails drag back down his chest and torso before looping in the waistband of the boxers peeking out from his jeans. His thumb falls from your mouth, the wet digit leaving a trail of your saliva on your chin as you work on pulling his jeans down. His head tips back with a low groan as his member springs free and you sink down to your knees, his hand finding purchase on the back of your head while the other is used to brace himself against the wall.

Tyson sucks in a breath as your hand reaches out to grip the base of his cock, tugging softly a few times as you lick the tip. His mouth waters at the sight of your lips wrapping around the head, your eyes looking right back up at him. You hum around him as you swallow him down, the vibrations causing a groan to escape from Tyson’s mouth. He feels euphoric, even if you haven’t had your mouth on him for more than 60 seconds. His hips involuntarily thrust forward at the wet feeling your mouth gives as you hollow your cheeks around him. 

Tyson continued to moan above you as you moved your mouth along him, both of your hands digging into the flesh of his thighs. Tyson’s hand is heavy on the back of your head, not using it to push you deeper onto him, but to ground him as he starts to see stars embarrassingly fast in his eyes.

He pulls you off him then, pulling you up to your feet to stand in front of him once again. There’s a dribble of saliva mixed with his pre-cum on your chin and he wipes it away with his thumb before pulling you in for another harsh kiss. He pushes the two of them to his bedroom, never breaking the kiss as he sheds your shirt and pushes you down onto his bed. You giggle again, the hunger in his eyes all too real as he crawls over your body until he’s hovering over you.

“You’re so fucking beautfiul,” he whispers into your ear, causing shivers to shoot down your body. He runs his hands along your bare sides up to your breasts as he kisses down your neck. His hands brush along your lace covered nipples, making you sharply inhale a breath and arch your back against him. He pulls the fabric down to expose your breasts, his lips still nipping at the skin on your collarbone. He looks down at you again, a sensual look in his eyes that you mirror. His lips attach to one of your nipples, the other being tended to by his fingers as twists and pulls the bud between his thumb and forefinger.

Your hands find purchase in the curls atop his head, pulling at the strands as he breathes a huff of cool air onto your npple before switching to the other one. He makes his way down your body painfully slow, a trail of kisses being left down your stomach until he reaches the waistband of your jeans. He tugs them off just as quickly as he stripped you from your shirt, his eyes locking on the sage green thong you’re wearing and the very obvious wet patch between your legs. He’s impatient from the brief blowjob you gave him and the fact that he’s been imaging this exact moment for far too long now. His fingers dip into the strap of your underwear, his eyes finding yours and asking if this is okay. You respond with a resounding yes as he pulls the underwear off of you.

His lips leave kisses along your thighs, throwing them over his shoulders as his mouth finally makes his way to your center. His beard is rough against the skin of your thighs, a sensation only causing you to whine as he breathes over your clit.

“Tyson,” you whine, causing him to smirk before pressing his tongue to your entrance. The cool, wetness of his tongue has you catching your breath and fisting the sheets underneath you. Tyson moaned against you at the taste as he licked over you a few more times. His lips wrap around your clit, this time causing a full, throaty moan to release from your mouth. One of your hands found its way to his head, holding him impossibly closer to you, the other finding his hand as he interlocks your fingers together.

His tongue dives into your opening, fucking into you as his other arm wraps around your thigh so he can rub his thumb at your clit. His tongue licked around you entrance, alternating between that and fucking into you. His thumb stayed on your clit, rubbing circles hoping to get you to that tipping point, the one you felt nearing with every pass of his tongue over you. Your back arched off the bed, your hips pushing further into Tyson’s face as you felt your high near. Tyson continued at the same pace, pushing you over the edge as you moaned out his name.

He continued to lick softly at you, his thumb slowing down on your clit as he lifted his head up to kiss at your collarbone. The kisses he leaves along your inner thighs gives you time to catch your breathing, your chest still heaving from your orgasm. It’s short lived as his thumb on your clit slides down to your entrance, spreading your wetness around before pushing a finger into you. 

His lips make their way back to your clit with the same smirk he had on his face a few minutes ago, wrapping his lips around the bud as he moves he added another finger. You clench down him at the feeling, moans and heavy breaths of air escaping your mouth as Tyson worked his fingers against your g-spot and his mouth worked over your clit. Your hand squeezes his, the pressure becoming too much so soon after your first orgasm. It doesn’t take long for you to groan out his name again as you clench down on his fingers, your second orgasm rushing through you.

He stays down there a moment longer, but you pull him up by his hair, just wanting his lips on yours and his body hovering over you. His beard is wet from both his spit and your juices, and it has you licking your lips and craning your neck upwards. You pull him in with both of your hands, licking into his mouth and tasting yourself on him.

The kiss is heavy, his hands running along your body trying to memorize every dip and curve, the heavy weight of his member on your hip. His curls tickled your forehead, the kiss turning soft as he splayed a hand on your cheek to pull you in tighter. The head of his dick brushed over your mound, a shiver running through you at the feelings, your hips bucking up towards his with a small whine.

You reach your hand down between your bodies to tug on him softly, a whine leaving Tyson’s lips, one that’s swallowed by your kisses. It’s unspoken between the two of you as pulls away from you, only to push your hand away from him and give himself a few tugs as he settles heavily between your thighs.

You share a look, one that’s gleeful and full of smiles as he licks his lips and slowly pushes into you. You moan and whimper at the feeling of him inside of you, your hands clawing at his shoulder blades to pull his body flush against your own.

“You good?” He asks, referring to if you’re ready for him to start moving.

“Yeah,” you whine, looking into his eyes smiling, “I’m good.”

There’s a pause as you answer, both of you understanding the double-meaning behind your answer. It’s more than just telling him you feel good physically, but that you feel more than that when he’s with you.

He leans in to kiss you again, starting a slow pace as he thrusts into you. He moaned out at how tight you were, how well you were taking him as he kissed you. He picked up his pace, thrusting into you harder and faster, with more purpose as he rested on his elbows above you, looking into your eyes. You always got lost in those eyes of his, as he hit your g-spot you tilted your head back, your eyes fluttering closed. They weren’t closed for long as Tyson grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him once again.

“I wanna look at you,” he muttered as he leaned back down to kiss you. Your moans filled the room as the layer of sweat started to thicken on your bodies, his chest rubbing against yours. He lifted your thigh and pushed it against your chest, the new angle causing the knots to tighten in your stomach as you felt you high nearing. Your lips found their way to his neck and down to the dips of his collarbone. Biting down into the flesh as you moan out again, Tyson’s pace quickening as he feels you clenching around him.

“I’m so close,” you moan out, Tyson hitting you deeply. He could feel himself getting close too, his hips starting to stutter as he moved inside of you. Your breasts bouncing as he pounds into you, your eyes screwing shut as your orgasm starts to wash over you. Tyson swallows your moans as he kisses you through your third orgasm.

His breaths are heavy as his orgasm comes soon after yours, spilling into you as he slows his pace down and gently lowers his body weight onto yours. You two stay like that for a few moments, catching your breaths and basking in that post-sex afterglow. He removes himself once you’ve both settled, a whimper leaving your mouth at the newfound emptiness. He disappears to his bathroom, coming right back with a washcloth as he cleans you up. You thank him as he runs the cool, wet cloth over the insides of your thighs, pulling him back for another quick kiss before he disappears into the bathroom once more.

When he gets back, he lays down next to you, pulling your body snug against his. His chest is warm and still a little sticky from the sweat. Your fingers draw aimless patterns along his bare chest, his lips leaving a soft kiss on your forehead and you feel the upturn of his lips when he pulls away. You smile up at him then, leaning up and puckering your lips, asking for a kiss. He obliges with a soft hum and rubs your arm gently before you’re falling asleep against him, a few drops of drool falling onto his chest.

The morning rolls around too quickly for your liking, the curls on Tyson’s head ticking the back of your neck. Neither of you are in a rush to move as he smiles against the bare skin of your back, a few kisses being placed there as you hum and hold his arms tighter to your torso. He’s up from bed moments later, a sweet kiss lingering on your lips as you watch his naked form emerge from bed and pull on a pair of sweats. Your eyes watch over the ripples of muscles between his shoulder blades, down his back and over his ass before he’s running around his apartment in search of your thong.

He remerges with it draped over his finger, a smirk on his lips before he flings it at you, causing a giggle to erupt from your stomach. You pull them on, a large t-shirt being tossed your way to drape over your shoulders. You follow him out to his kitchen then, a small pit in your stomach at the realization of the conversation that needs to be had, the small bubble you’re in at its popping point.

You jump onto his island counter, the coolness of the granite sending shivers down your bare legs, his back to you as he starts the coffee pot. He’s just in a pair of sweats, bright red lines on display on his back. You squeeze your legs together as you cross them, the actions of your late night antics running vividly through your mind.

He presses the warm mug into your hands, his now free hand pushing open your legs to step between them. He’s so close then, probably the closest you’ve really been to him with a sober brain. The heat from his torso radiates towards you, warming not only your skin but your insides as well as you smile at him. He’s still got that wide, goofy smile plastered on his face, the one you’ve grown to love and to look forward to seeing.

Tyson’s hands move to rest on the counter on either side of you, the close proximity between your faces causes you to set your mug down and move your hands to his shoulders.

“What’s going through your mind, pretty girl?” The new pet name has you mentally squealing, your chest tightening as your cheeks heat up.

“Just how last night I was so adamant to talk about everything, but now I’m not so sure I want to break our little bubble,” you start, the huff of breath air coming out softly as you avoid his eye contact, even if he is a few inches away from your face.

It’s hard to concentrate on relaying your feelings to him and fully opening up to a man for the first time in a long time with him standing right there in front of you, in all his shirtless glory — the defined lines of his pecs and abs, the veins protruding from his arms, and the few purple bruises you’d left on the dips of his collarbones. It’s always been hard to think straight around him, you realize, with the way his presence gives you a comforting buzz and that warm, fuzzy feeling in your stomach.

Tyson’s quiet as he watches over you, he licks his lips in thought, a silent hum of agreement coming out. He’s in the exact same boat, the outcome of this conversation not one he’s too scared of, knowing that the way he feels is reciprocated, but rather what the next step is with the best friend you two share. He’s leaning closer into you, a small smile as he places another soft kiss on your lips. It’s one you get lost in, gentle and blissful as your lips move slowly against his. He pulls away first, something he wasn’t able to do last night, before finally being able to put his thoughts into words.

“I just want to make sure we’re on the same page with this. We’re taking a big risk doing this behind JT’s back and I want you to know, no matter what, the risk is worth it with you,” he starts, voice soft and still scratchy from the morning. “And I know you don’t date because you put yourself first and if that’s what you want to do then I’m okay with that, too.”

Your heart melts at the words, your hands cradling his face. Tyson’s always been better with words and feelings than you have over your short friendship with him. The metaphorical door is already wide open in front of you, it’s just a matter of taking that one more small step through it with Tyson, or shutting it and never turning back.

“I don’t date because most people don’t like having independent girls as their girlfriend’s. I put time into myself to be the best person I can be, not only for myself but for others and they don’t like that stuff,” you start to explain, your hands falling from his face to hold both of his hands. “I like you, a lot, Tys, and I want to be with you.”

He smiles wildly at that, the doubt draining from his eyes as he opens his mouth to respond.

You interrupt him though, with a huff of air as you continue speaking, “But JT’s my best friend and I don’t want to hurt him either.”

And Tyson fully understands where you’re coming from, because he’s been struggling with that for the past few months ever since he met you. He thinks back to that conversation on the plane all that time ago and how JT firmly told him to not try anything, but now as he really thinks about it, he’s not sure he meant it because of him and that it was more so because he cared for you and didn’t want to see you get hurt in general.

You can see in his eyes that same wide open door you’re thinking about, the one where you get to explore a relationship with the quirky, optimistic, competitive guy in front of you. The guy that matches your level of confidence as you, the guy that lets you be stubborn and lets you live out that stubbornness because he’s the most patient person you’ve ever met.

The decision’s easy as he stands in front of you, putting the ball in your court, your lip caught between your teeth. He’s waiting for you then, waiting for you to walk through that door or close it and walk out of his apartment. He’s hopeful, knowing that last night wasn’t a fluke and that all the kisses you’ve already shared are real and full of passion and those feelings you’ve been dancing around.

That’s when you give in, wrapping your legs around his torso and pulling him into you with that toothy smile of yours as you place your lips on his hungrily. It’s a kiss full of teeth as he smiles against you, his hands coming to cradle your face as you kiss. It’s much more addicting now that you’re sober and you fully agree with Tyson’s comment from last night about how he’s never going to want to stop kissing you.

You decide later that day that there’s no rush in telling JT, instead opting to see how things go between the two of you for a few weeks. Those two weeks are full of plenty of quality time, a coincidental home stand falling during that time meaning you get him to yourself before facing the reality that is how much he travels. You’re sure you can handle everything the new relationship can throw at you, the honeymoon phase lasting long as the two of you skirt around how you’ll tell JT whenever that time comes.

“I need to leave now if I want to leave for the rink and not see JT,” Tyson warns, prying away from your warm body in bed. You whined in response, wanting to have his warmth for just a little while longer. You let him escape from your grasp, only after asking for one too many kisses. You follow him out into your kitchen, watching him as he pulls on his shoes and finds his keys.

“You sure I can’t get you to stay for at least a cup of coffee?” You muse, giving it one more shot to spend time with him before your work week starts. You make your way to where he’s lingering in your entryway, looking extra cozy with his hood over his messy head of curls. You wrap your arms around his middle, slipping your hands under the cotton of his hoodie to feel his skin against yours. 

He leans down to place a soft kiss on your lips, giggling when you follow him as he pulls away, “I really need to get going.”

“Fine,” you hum. “I’ll see you when you get back from Dallas?”

Tyson nods his head with a hum in answer, finally pulling open your front door to get to his car downstairs in the garage without running into JT. But luck isn’t on his side this morning and he gives you one more goodbye hug and kiss in the doorway before shutting the door behind him and coming face to face with a certain redheaded teammate a few feet down.

JT’s eyebrows are knitted as he takes his key out of the lock. His mouth opens a few times in confusion before any words come out. “What was that?”

Tyson doesn’t think he’s ever been at such a loss for words as he is right now. He looks between the door he just shut and his friend a few times, trying to wrap his brain around what this scene looks like. It’s not even 8:30 in the morning on Sunday, and to anyone, this looks like the start of a walk of shame.

“Uh, y/n and I were hanging out and we fell asleep so she let me sleep in her guest room,” Tyson lies. He hopes it’s convincing, his voice didn’t waver but his hands flailed around a little more than normal when he talks and he scratched his beard, something he always does when he’s nervous.

“I’m pretty sure I just saw you kiss her,” JT explains, voice stern as he completely turns to look at Tyson. “And you don’t just kiss people goodbye.”

Tyson stumbles over an explanation for that, no logical reason coming to mind.

“You were just kissing y/n!” JT exclaims, a rise in his voice as he starts to fill in the blanks. Now he’s starting to connect the dots of your tendency to bail on him on the nights you’d normally hang out and Tyson’s lack of interest in guys’ night or after game celebrations with the team. The giggling he would hear through the wall late at night, the girly squeals, and the few times he remembered hearing the bedpost hit against your shared wall a little too hard for his liking. “You just fucking kissed my best friend after I told you to not get involved with her!”

Tyson moves to close the distance between him and his best friend, but JT takes one back, effectively cancelling it out. Tyson’s opening and closing his mouth, trying to figure out the best course of action for this premature conversation. The two of you had just figured everything out in the past few days, telling JT about your newfound relationship hadn’t even come up in conversation yet.

“How long has this been going on for?”

“Barely two weeks,” Tyson stutters out, watching as JT’s face fills with more anger. “Comph, just let me explain,” he tries again, but JT just shakes his head and heads for the doorway for the stairwell instead of the elevator. It’s a huge flight of stairs given that he lives on the 11th floor of the building. He wants to follow his friend, but knows that space is what he needs and instead presses the button for the elevator and gets in, leaving him alone in his thoughts.

When he meets up with him at the rink, JT’s still avoiding him which is hard considering their stalls are only separated by one other in the locker room. Cale hadn’t even made it to the rink yet, so someone wasn’t even there to put up a wall between the two. Gabe takes notice as he walks around the room after taping his ankles, his eyebrows knitting at the fact that Tyson, who’s normally cheery even this early in the morning and bugging JT, is putting on his pads and skates with his mouth shut. 

It’s something Gabe puts in the back of his mind, just thinking that Tyson had a rough night or morning. It’s during morning skate that Gabe, and almost everyone else, notices something is off between the pair. JT doesn’t chirp him like normal when they take face-offs against one another, he’s not by his side in between drills, and JT sticks his stick out a little too far during a one-on-one, sending Tyson to the ice during a drill that no one should be falling during. Bednar thinks nothing of it, just telling Tyson to stay on his two feet. 

Practice eventually ends but the silent treatment between the two continues. JT’s uncharacteristically quiet to everyone that talks to him, something clearly on his mind. Meanwhile Tyson’s nerves are causing him to not shut up as Cale shares a story about his rough commute this morning.

As Tyson and Cale quiet down, Gabe steps in, pointing between the two of them, “What’s up with you two today?”

“Nothing,” Tyson lies quickly, not wanting anyone else to get involved in this. Even if their captain is just trying to help, Tyson’s not sure there’s anything Gabe can say to help. 

JT scoffs, tying his shoes before standing up, “He’s fucking my best friend.” Cale, who was taking him leisurely time with getting dressed suddenly stands up and crosses the room to where Gravy was, avoiding any possible conflict.

Gabe’s eyes pop out of his head as Tyson responds, “we’re not fucking.”

“So the banging into my wall last night wasn’t you?” JT asks in an accusatory tone.

“Well, we’re not like,” Tyson starts, gesturing his hands in front of his body in a way to finish that sentence, soon realizing he doesn’t want to add fuel to fire by saying he was in fact fucking his best friend last night. “It’s not just that, we’re together.”

Gabe, who thought this was probably a misunderstanding of one of Tyson’s pranks or even just JT not winning a stupid bet, is just as shocked as JT was a few hours agao when he saw two of his best friends kissing. The captain isn’t entirely sure of how to navigate this situation, one that hasn’t really happened in any of his locker rooms. He doesn’t have much else to say to the two of them other than to figure it out and that a girl shouldn’t get between two friends that are as close as they are.

With that, Tyson’s trying to apologize to JT, tell him that there’s more to the story but JT wants nothing of it, and is throwing his jacket on and running out the door. Everything in Tyson’s being wants to follow him back to his place and beg for him to hear him out, but instead he’s racing back to your place, ignoring the fact that he still has to pack for their quick road trip.

Tyson all about sprints up the 11 flights of stairs to your door, knocking on your door with urgency until the door swings open. You move to the side as you let him in, clearly seeing how frantic he is with his flushed cheeks and the excessive knocking.

“JT saw me leave this morning,” Tyson lets out, a little out of breath from his run up the stairs. Tyson’s waiting for you to respond but you’re still not getting it. “He saw me kiss you goodbye and then didn’t talk to me all practice then when Landy confronted us he was just like ‘Tyson’s fucking my best friend’ and I tried to explain but-”

“Tys,” you interrupt his rambling, taking a step forward to reach out to him. Your hands grab his in an attempt to ground him, your thumbs rubbing back and forth on the back of his hands. “It’ll be okay.”

“He literally tripped me in practice today!”

“That’s because he can be a petty asshole. He doesn’t hate you, he probably just feels betrayed because he didn't know any of this was going on.” You try to console him, pushing all of your anxieties and paranoia aside to deal with the panicking boy in front of you.

“Let me talk to him, you need to go home and pack for your road trip since I know you haven’t yet.”

“But,”

“I’ll come over right after and update you, I promise.”

WIth that, Tyson kisses you goodbye as you push him to the elevator with a promise that everything is going to be okay before giving yourself a pep talk and bursting into JT’s apartment next to yours.

He spots you before you can greet him and you can see quite a few different feelings crossing over his face.

“Oh, God, are you here to also tell me that you’re not just fucking my best friend, too?” JT scoffs, causing your heart to plummet into your ass. “I really don’t want to listen to any excuses you may have about this.”

“Stop being an asshole for just one second and let me explain,” you reprimand him, already over the fact that your so-called best friend won’t even hear you out. “How is this any different from the countless times you tried to set me up with your friends? Is this not the same thing?”

It’s a genuine question that shuts up JT, because really, it’s not much different in your eyes. For over a year now, JT’s been showing you pictures of buddies he has from back home or from college or even friends of friends that he’d think would suit you. You had always turned him down because to you, dating wasn’t something you wanted other people to really interfere with, even if some of his friends were young, successful, bachelor types.

“Because it’s Tyson,” JT answers simply with a shrug of his shoulders. You look at him, hands clenching at your sides with the vague and uninterested tone. He’s barely even looking at you as he tidies up his kitchen, something he always did when trying to fill silence.

“What the fuck is that even supposed to mean?” You ask incredulously. “You’ve told me a million times he’s one of the best people you’ve ever met.” You bite your tongue from adding a comment about how he is one of the best people you’ve also met.

“The other guys weren’t professional athletes, it’s pretty simple from how I see it.”

“But you could set me up with your friends from Chicago and New York and Michigan but I find one of your friends here in Denver then it’s off limits? Because he plays a sport for a living? If that’s the case then I shouldn’t be friends with you either.” It’s a low blow, you know that, but it finally catches his attention as he drops the cloth he’s wiping the counter with. His eyes finally connect with yours and it’s then he finally notices how hurt you are by the lack of emotion in both his words and his body language. There are tears in your eyes as you look up at the ceiling to try and even your breathing.

“It's an honor for anyone to have a place in my life JT and that includes you,” you continue. “Tyson understands that. He understands that I'm my own person before anything else but he’s still there when I'm stubborn. I've been single for so long and I truly know what I want, what I deserve to feel and I get that with him.”

You often don’t get this deep with the red head, but his lack of wanting to understand you has you emotional as you think of all the benefits of being with Tyson. The few months of being his friend were a perfect build up to the past few weeks of it being more, of sharing a life with someone else. 

“You know him better than most people and if you can honestly tell me he’s no good for me right now then I’ll end it,” you suggest, your heart beating fast as you wait for an answer. JT has come to be one of your best friends in your life, even if he is just your neighbor, and at this moment it’s hard to think of putting a guy between you. Even if that guy is the first guy you’ve really felt this way towards.

“I’m not gonna tell you that,” JT admits with a heavy sigh. He makes his way across the room to you before continuing. “He’s my best friend, too, and if there’s anyone that knows everything about both of you, it’s me. I guess I just felt like you were hiding a secret from me and we don’t do that, ya know? I just wish you could’ve told me.”

You laugh snidely at that, “Do you not remember like two months ago when I told you I thought Tyson was cute and you shot that down before I was even done talking?”

The wheels turn and the light bulb goes off in JT’s brain as he remembers that conversation from a while back, “I won’t confirm nor deny that I said that.”

The both of you laugh lightheartedly at that, pulling him in for a much needed hug, both of you apologizing to the other. The weight on your shoulders is liften as he pulls away, thankful for the fact that you have such an understanding person for a best friend.

“You want to watch an episode of Psych? I think we can fit one in before I have to leave.”

You contemplate it, knowing that a few miles away Tyson is in his apartment panicking as he waits for some sort of update from you. You know you need to tell him how your conversation just went, but something inside you is telling you that JT needs you to spend time with him to normalize everything.

“Sure,” you smile, walking over to his couch and laying on it long ways, forcing JT to sit by himself in his chair. You pull out your phone to text Tyson, smiling as you type out an explanation.

y/n: just finished talking to jt y/n: everything’s good but i think i need to just hang out with him to make him feel better about everything tyson: you sure? y/n: yes, ill call you when he leaves for the airport💚

Everything gets sorted out when you call Tyson an hour later, calming his nerves as you give him a detailed play-by-play of everything that was said between you and JT. The comfortable silence before you hang up is almost filled with him telling you he loves you, but he knows he needs to talk to JT first and needs to tell you in person, and not over the phone as he boards a flight.

The flight was filled with awkward air as most of the guys saw what happened with Tyson and JT in the locker room when practice ended that morning, and even if they weren’t there for that, they felt the tension between them. It’s not until a few hours later when Tyson’s doing his hair before the game when he hears a knock on his hotel door.

He swings the door open to see JT, his hands shoved in his short pockets as he stares right back at Tyson.

“Can we talk?”

“Uh, yeah,” he responds nervously, stepping out of the way to let his friend through the door. The two of them awkwardly stand a few feet away, that meme about two straight guys sitting six feet away in a hot tub because they’re not gay going through Tyson’s brain.

“I, uh, wanted to apologize about everything earlier. I’ll admit, I overreacted a bit and I shouldn’t have tripped you in practice. It was just a lot to take in, especially because I didn’t really know that you two were that close. And I feel like a bad friend now for not knowing that.”

JT’s apology is way more than what Tyson thought he would get from his friend. He knew yours and his conversation went well, but that didn’t mean he still wasn’t scared JT was going to punch him or yell at him or literally anything that wasn’t an amicable conversation between two adults.

“It’s fine, man. It’s on us for keeping you in the dark on this one and I’m sorry for that. I think we barely knew what was going on until it was all happening,” Tyson starts to explain. He’s trying not to look at his feet, knowing that JT needs to see the feelings in his face, those feelings that are very much real to him.

“And it’s real for you? It’s not a game? Because I swear to God, Tyson.” JT darts, voice stern.

“God, no, this isn’t a game to me JT,” Tyson answers quickly, head shaking in disgust at the thought. “I’m not just trying to bag her and call it some accomplishment or whatever you think this is. If that was the case I wouldn’t even be having this conversation with you and you’d already hate me,” he shudders at those words, unable to ever think he could do any wrong to you. “You told me a while ago that it’s no bullshit with her and I know that because it isn’t for me either.”

JT takes a seat on the bed in the room as his friend speaks, taking it all in. It’s a lot for him to take in, but Tyson really is one of the best people he’s ever met and he has little to no doubt that he’s telling the truth about how he feels. If the tears brimming your eyes earlier in the day said anything, you feel the exact same way. The room is silent once Tyson is done talking, his nerves causing him to be quiet for once as JT figures out his next move.

“I hear one bad bad thing from y/n, then it’s over,” JT warns, Tyson nodding his head along in agreement. “And if the guys start talking about your sex life I will be cutting your dick off.”

“Got it.”

“Okay, now that that’s out of the way, how’d you get her to go for you? I’ve been trying to get her a guy for forever.”

“Easy, have you seen my charming smile?” Tyson jokes with that crooked smirk of his, happy to see that JT is already moving on from that heavy stuff and onto best friend stuff. JT rolls his eyes heavily at the joke, a light ‘shut up’ coming out as he laughs.

Tyson explains everything then, the same wide smile on his face he had when he scored his first hat trick. He tells JT about how he wined and dined you on more than one occasion, how he learned those little, obscure things about you that you caught you off guard whenever he remembered them, and most importantly, just spent uninterrupted time with you, getting to know the ins and outs of your life. To Tyson, getting you to open up to him was difficult yet still a tranquil thing to do. The latter severely outweighed the former, as the sense of serenity he felt with you would always overpower any of those harder moments.

The team returns to Denver two days later, a quick road trip to Dallas and St Louis in the books with the regular season ending within the week. You can see that it’s that time of the year on both JT and Tyson’s face, their eyes a little more sunken in with the back half push, even if they’ve already clinched the playoffs. There’s only a few more games left to round out March and the beginning of April, the guys’ still waiting on their round one opponent.

Tyson heads straight for your place when the plane touches down late Wednesday night. You’d talked to him every day for the past few days, but not being able to see him much after JT finding out caused a lot of anxiety for the both of you. The problem may be solved with that, but seeing the other would just give you that little extra push that this was the right thing to do.

Tyson enters your apartment quietly, dropping his backpack and suit jacket down onto the nearby couch as he navigates his way through your apartment in the dark. The light of your string lights in your bedroom illuminates the hallway, soft sounds coming from your phone as Tyson walks in on you laying on your side.

“Hey,” he gently greets with a smile, pausing in the doorway to admire you. You set your phone down, turning around to face the man leaning against the door frame.

You smile just as wide as he does, responding with just as gentle of a ‘hey’. That anxiety you felt over the course of the last few days instantly dissolving at the sight of the man in your doorway.

“Why’re you standing all the way over there?” You ask with a pout.

“I can’t just look at you?” Tyson laughs, making his way over to you slowly. He joins you in bed, crawling over you like he’s still not dressed in one of his expensive custom suits.

“Not when I haven’t seen you in a few days,” you complain with a giggle, the same pout still glued to your face. He places a quick kiss on your lips in response, giving into your silent ask while also erasing that puppy dog look from your face. You’d only officially been with Tyson a few weeks now, the butterflies still heavily present in your stomach everytime your lips meet his.

“Do you not have clothes to change into?” You ask, referring to the crisp white button down he’s still wearing. He nods his head no against yours,

“Only what’s dirty from the roadie. Besides, I plan on being naked here pretty soon,” he smirks playfully. The comment has you shoving him off you with a roll of your eyes, only causing him to laugh loudly at your reaction. You know he’s partly kidding, using that as an excuse to get up from bed to go to the bathroom.

When you emerge from the bathroom, he’s finally shed his clothes and is under your covers. He opens his arms for you to snuggle into him. You do, resting your head on his bicep as he wraps both of his arms back around you.

“I missed you,” you let out. “Because I didn’t know what was gonna happen when you got back with everything going on with JT.”

“I missed you, too, but I’ve always missed you when we left for road trips,” he responds, letting you in on a little secret that clues you in once again to how real this is and how long it’s truly been going on for. “He’s fine with everything, he just told me we can’t act too much like a couple around him.”

You chuckle at that because of course that was the part JT focused on when they talked. As you look up at him, your heart is full and your head still has that same fuzzy feeling it always has when you’re around him. With him you’ve never really felt lonely, something you often felt even when you were around people before him. Those love songs you once heard on the radio that annoyed you no longer do, and instead you welcome them when they play spontaneously in the car or at the bar and parties or even at Avalanche games. 

The thoughts swimming around in your head have you swinging your leg over him, straddling his hips with his hands on your waist and yours on his ribs. That doe-eyed smile he has is focused on you, a grin spreading over your face at the way everything’s worked out with him. Your heart flutters as he gently squeezes your side, a small squeak coming out. He leans up on his elbows then, admiring the view he has of you. He slowly yet full-heartedly fell for you over the time he’s known you and you can see it in the way his gaze turns soft and as the quirkiness drops from his expression.

You’ve slowly fallen in love with the man underneath you, too, and you lean down to kiss him one more time. It’s slow like they always seem to be with him in scenarios like this, where it’s just the two of you and the sounds of your breathing.

The playoffs fly by quickly with the pace they’re winning at, a WAG jacket wrapped tightly around your shoulders to every game you make it to. A new one is shoved into your hands at the start of the Stanley Cup playoffs, Mel telling you it’s a special occasion that calls for a new jacket, even if it is just for a series and even though you’ve just barely broken in your first one.

You go into that offseason with your newly crowned Stanley Cup Champion of a boyfriend, flying out to Chicago over the summer for JT’s day with the cup and spending a whole week in St. Albert when its Tyson’s turn with it.

And that picture frame you never found a picture for that’s hanging up on your wall by your TV? It’s been occupied now with a photo of you sandwiched between JT and Tyson on the ice after Game 6 against the Tampa Bay Lightning, the Cup on the ice in front of the three of you, faces full of glee with confetti falling around you.

Plus One

The pitter patter of small feet running along the hardwood floors of the hallway, followed by a squeal of ‘daddy’ has you setting your glass down and following after her. Your daughter’s giggle is heard through the house, the familiar sound of your husband dropping his bags by the front door following soon after.

“What’re you still doing up, baby girl?” Tyson chastises the four year old as you round the corner to find the two of them still by the door, your daughter in Tyson’s arms as he gives her a kiss.

“Sage said she wouldn’t go to bed until daddy came home for story time,” you answer for Sage. She only giggles in response.

“How about you go get in bed and mommy and daddy will come tell you a story in a minute?” Tyson asks, playing with her little fingers.

“Okay daddy!” She agrees instantly, running all the way up the stairs and down the hall to her bedroom. The brown curls she got from Tyson bounce as she runs, your heart warming at the heavy resemblance she has to her father.

“How are you doing, baby?” Tyson hums as you give him the usual welcome home kiss, his hand coming to rest on your protruding stomach.

“Good, the back pain is much more manageable now, but I’m still going to the bathroom every hour it seems like,” you shrug as you answer. He’d been on the longest road trip of the season so far, one that means the season is almost over. You’d tried extremely hard this time around to get pregnant at the right time so your next child would arrive during the offseason and not in the middle of the conference finals like your first did a few years ago.

“Soon enough we’ll have her running and occupying all of Sage’s free time,” Tyson muses, the two of you making your way to your bedroom so he could change into comfier clothes. You smile at the thought of Sage finally having a little sister to play with and hopefully become best friends with.

When you don’t get to Sage’s room fast enough, she’s racing into yours and Tyson’s room and plopping down onto your spacious bed. You join her, Tyson following, knowing that she’d much rather be sandwiched between the two of you than in her tiny bed in her own room. She leans into her dad’s side, something she’s always done, but you don’t mind — you love seeing them get so close.

“Did you bring a book, sweetie?” You ask her, taming some of her curls.

“No, tell me the story of how you met daddy again,” she proposes, causing you and Tyson to share a look. It’s her favorite story, one she asks you to relay to her at least once a week, and the one she asks for the most when Tyson’s been gone.

The two of you tell the story to her anyway, taking turns as you tell her how upset Uncle JT was about the two of you dating, all the way to the jokes he made sure to make when he gave a speech at your wedding six years ago now.

[glazelilyy]

lazy day snoozes

request from @claybiirds - "hi! i just wanted to say i enjoy your works! i was wondering if you could write a diluc x gn reader taking a lazy afternoon nap. lately ive been stressed bc of school and i find myself taking lazy naps. thank you and have a great day/night!"

a/n - a nap sounds like a dream right about now, school sucks for stressing people out so much >:( time for some fluff with our favorite redhead!

pairing - diluc ragnvindr x gender neutral reader

word count - 607

genre - fluff

format - drabble

warnings - none! just pure, tooth rotting fluff

summary - you're tired, he's beyond exhausted. a nap seems to be in order!

content under the cut!

rays of sun beat down on your sweaty nape like a whip as you trudged forth, a crate of grapes in your arms. you spent the better part of the morning helping to inspect and pluck grapes from the wiry vines that surrounded the winery. your skin burned, the broad sunhat on your head did little to protect you from the sun's angry leer.

under normal circumstances, you kept indoors to tend to the paperwork involving transfers of goods and imports on foreign products. however after waking up this morning to see a haggard looking diluc scribbling away at papers on his desk, you figured he could use the extra help in the vineyards. as much as he opposed the idea of you taking his place for quality inspection, the bags under his ruby red eyes spoke volumes for him and he reluctantly caved in when you promised to take frequent breaks.

thankfully, the work was finished and you were looking forward to grabbing a glass of water and checking up on your beloved. after setting aside the crate and exchanging your outdoor clothes for something more comfortable, you padded towards his office and knocked two times. "di? it's me!" you called after hearing no response. you knocked again, this time receiving a response. well, if you could count a garbled "come in" as a response.

the oak door felt heavy under your hands as you pushed it open. the bags under his eyes had grown three shades darker in color, his frazzled hair originally in a ponytail, had been let loose and ran rampant around his shoulders. "you look exhausted," you frowned, moving forward to hold his face in your hands. he exhaled and melted into your hands, a lethargic smile drawing itself onto his face.

"i'll be fine, just a few more pages..." he mumbled, brushing his nose into your searing palm. "you said a few more pages four hours ago di, have you eaten breakfast?" he merely hummed in response, eyes closing against your skin.

"come on, take a break hm?" your eyes pleaded silently with him. he peeled his eyelids back, revealing the scarlet gems encased in his face that lacked their usual glow.

"but these documents-"

"-can be taken care of later, what you need," you cut yourself off with a yawn of your own, "and what i need too, is a nap with the love of my life." he flushed, seemingly more alert now. "i-if you insist..." he shied away from your gaze, scarlet hues dancing across his cheeks. you giggled and kissed the top of his head, pulling him to his feet. he stumbled forwards into your arms and couldn't help but chuckle. "excuse my clumsiness," he drowsily muttered, stifling a small yawn.

strips of noon sunlight bathed your room in a honeyed glow, dust particles danced along the glass panel balcony doors. you led him to the elaborate bed in the corner and got into bed with him, positioning yourselves so his face fit snugly in the crook of your neck, scarlet locks tickling your nose. his arms wrapped firmly around your waist and held you close to his burning body. you took strands of his mangled, firey locks and raked your fingers through them. he seemed to like this very much, judging by the pleased throaty hum he let out. diluc's hot breath tickled your neck as his breathing slowed, and went limp in your arms.

you kissed his head one last time, whispering a "rest easy" before shutting your own eyes, relishing in the warmth of both the afternoon sun and the exhausted man in your arms.

date published: may 20th, 2021

[helloalycia]

alex WILL kick my arse // supergirl

summary: you learn that being supergirl's doctor came with its challenges

warning/s: none.

author's note: i’m lowkey posting a bunch of stuff that i posted on my wattpad a while ago lol

masterlist | wattpad

I was sat in the medical unit of the DEO, reading through some medical reports from the past few months. I had just transferred from the DEO's desert facility, where I was one of the doctors there to help with any of the agents' injuries. After a long time there, I decided to transfer here when there was an opening for the lead doctor.

I thought it would be best to settle in by having a look at what severe cases had been dealt with recently. It was usually the same stuff – agents injured on field missions. Bullet wounds, broken bones, sprained muscles, thankfully nothing too severe. There hadn't been many major alien attacks which meant less risky field operations.

I was pulled from the reports when the red alarm light began to flash for a few seconds, accompanied by a siren, before turning off.

"Agent Y/L/N, Supergirl is incoming with J'onn," my radio went off – it was Director Danvers. "She's had a solar flare and got a gunshot wound."

I recalled what a solar flare was from research I'd done in Supergirl's medical records. That was something I prioritised when coming here, since we didn't have Supergirl at the other facility.

"I'm prepping a bed and equipment now," I replied through the radio, before hurrying to do that. J'onn could literally fly, he'd be here any minute.

With the help of some nurses who were around, I prepped a bed and had the solar energy panels on standby for when/if her powers came back sooner than we thought. I had the tools ready to bandage up her gunshot wound temporarily when both heroes appeared beside me.

J'onn was stood there, holding Supergirl bridal style and lowering her onto the bed.

"Still getting used to that," I mumbled, surprised at how he just sped in here.

"I said I'm– agh, I'm fine," Supergirl complained, clutching her bloody wound and trying to sit up. "My powers will come back."

I stepped by her bedside and pushed her back down gently, moving closer to inspect her wound. "Please stay still for a second."

"Listen to the doctor," J'onn teased to lighten the mood.

Supergirl rolled her eyes and stayed still. I removed her hand and noticed it was covered in blood.

"Can somebody come clean this up?" I called out to one of the nurses, motioning to her hand.

One of the nurses did as I asked as I took a look at her wound. The bullet was still in there by the looks of it.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to overwork yourself?!" Director Danvers' voice called out as she walked in.

She was glaring at Supergirl, though the worry in her eyes was evident as she took in the hero's appearance.

"It's barely a scratch, Alex, it'll heal," Supergirl said dismissively, but as I cleaned up the blood with a cloth, I saw her clench her jaw a little.

"You need to be careful, you're not indestructible," Alex reminded her, before looking to J'onn. "Can you believe her?"

J'onn chuckled. "I'll leave you both to it. I should get back." He glanced at me. "Good luck."

I nodded his way, offering a small smile as he walked away.

"As fun as it is watching you both glare at each other, I do need to remove the bullet," I spoke up, interrupting both girls' staring contest.

"Go for it," Supergirl said, her eyes meeting mine.

"With anaesthetic," Alex added, shooting another glare towards the blonde.

"I don't need anaesthetic," Supergirl countered with an eye-roll and scoff.

"You're human for the time being, remember?" Alex reminded her before looking to me. "Anaesthetic, please."

I bit my lower lip as they erupted into another argument about how I should proceed. I didn't know either of them well enough to cut in, so I stood there awkwardly, trying to stop the blood loss and planning out how I could temporarily bandage her up so it could heal itself when she gets her powers back.

"I have to go," Alex finally said, pulling me back into reality. "I have to check on the bank robbery." She didn't seem too happy leaving Supergirl here, but she gave her a knowing look before looking to me. "Please make sure she stays put?"

"You got it, Director," I said with a playful salute. How hard could it be to keep her here?

Alex gave Supergirl one last warning look before leaving us be. I looked to the blonde who was finally breathing out, letting her guard down a little now that it was just us.

"The anaesthetic will make it bearable, just so I can remove the bullet," I spoke, causing her to open her eyes and look at me. "I'm just gonna bandage you up temporarily and you'll heal yourself when you get your powers back. Shouldn't be more than a few days, according to your medical history."

She swallowed hard before shaking her head. "I've been through much worse. It's okay. Just remove it and bandage me up. The sooner I'm out of here, the better."

I was ready to argue, but she gave me a convincing look and I couldn't help but give in.

"Fine, but you stay here and rest," I reasoned, to which she gave me a small, cute smile.

I got to work and surprisingly, she managed. It went well and I managed to bandage her up quite quickly, though it did mean I had to cut into her suit a little. Better safe than sorry though.

"Okay, you're all done," I said, patting her arm supportively, before packing away the gauze. "I'm gonna go get you some water and then you should take it easy, stay here maybe until you get your powers back. That alright?"

She gave me a thumbs up and a promising smile. "You got it, doc."

I was fairly confident that she would listen to me, since she seemed polite and was a trooper throughout the whole thing. However, I soon realised how naive I had been when I returned and her bed was empty.

I facepalmed and shook my head, realising she'd definitely played along the whole time.

The first thing I did was look around the DEO, asking around if anyone had seen Supergirl. I eventually followed the commotion coming from the main hall and spotted both Supergirl and Director Danvers having an argument.

"...stay and rest! You can't keep ignoring simple instructions, Kara!" Alex shouted around her.

Supergirl rolled her eyes and continued to look at the tablet in her hand. I approached the two and cleared my throat loudly to get the blonde's attention.

When she noticed me, she gave me a sheepish smile. "Doctor Y/L/N. Heeeeeeey."

"One job, literally," Alex mumbled, giving me a knowing look, before storming off.

I breathed out and glared at Supergirl. "Are you serious? I asked you to stay put!"

She straightened up and spread her arms out for emphasis. "But I'm fine! See? Nothing hurts, I'm walking, it's all good! Job well done, I must say. You're new, right? Well, I know why you got the job!"

She avoided my glare as she walked around me to get to the other side of the desk.

"You've heard of the term 'first impressions count', haven't you?" I asked her, raising an eyebrow.

She gave me a knowing look. "C'mon. You can't hate me for this."

I sighed. "I've got work to do. Call me if you tear your stitches."

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I turned around and began to leave.

"I'm not gonna tear them!" I heard her call out from behind me, but I didn't care. I wasn't her parent, she could do what she wanted.

I wish I'd known I was dealing with a stubborn Super before accepting this job though.

–

"What a surprise," I said sarcastically.

A few hours later, I'd been called into one of the medical rooms because apparently, Supergirl had collapsed from blood loss and tore her stitches. Shocker.

"Is she going to be okay?" Alex asked as I got to work for the second time that day.

"Yeah, if she decides to listen to me this time," I said, sighing. "Is she always this stubborn?"

Alex clenched her jaw. "Unfortunately, yes... you think you can keep her here next time?"

"I'll give it my best shot," I promised her. "I'll call you when she's up?"

Alex nodded, patting me on the shoulder. "Thanks."

She left me to do my thing and this time I did things my way, the right way, with anaesthetic and IV fluid. I managed to sort out Supergirl's mess before going back to my office to fill out some more paperwork.

Some time passed when I found myself going back to check on Supergirl and see if she was awake. I was cleaning up a little around her side table when I heard her stir awake. She seemed confused at first, as she looked around and saw the tube coming from her arm. Eventually, realisation set in and she sank into her pillow.

I decided to stay quiet as I finished up, about to leave, but she stopped me.

"Wait," she called out. I paused as she continued, "I'm sorry."

I turned around and waited, watching as, unlike before, she wasn't joking or being unserious.

"I should have stayed put before. And listened to you. I didn't mean to offend you or come across as rude," she continued genuinely.

I crossed my arms and straightened up. "Well, Supergirl–"

"Kara," she interrupted. "It's Kara."

I nodded. "Okay, Kara. Yes, you probably should have listened. I redid your stitches and I'm asking you to stay put again. You're human for now and you need to act like one."

"You're right," she agreed, breathing out. "Sorry."

I realised that she seemed to mean it and at the end of the day, I was her doctor, so I couldn't hold a grudge. Instead, I went to her bedside and checked her monitors to see how she was doing.

"How are you feeling?" I asked, glancing at her.

"Tired. Achey. But better than before."

"That'll be the meds kicking in," I said, giving her a reassuring smile. "I did have to get in there twice."

Her cheeks went pink as she smiled with embarrassment. "I'm not used to being so..."

"Fragile?" I finished for her.

"Exactly," she said, nodding. "I'm not used to it and staying put isn't exactly my forte."

"I could tell," I joked, making her laugh a little. She had a nice laugh.

"About that first impressions thing..." she began, blue eyes holding mine nervously.

"It's nice to meet you for the first time, Kara," I said, holding out my hand. "I'm Y/N. Your doctor."

She cracked a smile, realising what I was doing. She shook my hand and said, "Nice to meet you, too, Y/N."

"Okay, I should go and get Alex," I said, backing up to leave. "Now please don't leave because Alex will kick my arse if you're not here when she comes back."

She laughed again. "I promise I'll be here when you return."

"Fingers crossed you're not playing me again," I mumbled loud enough for her to hear.

Her laughter seemed to follow me out the room, leaving me smiling to myself.

[kyber-kisses]

Southern Nights (2/4)

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: all of the feels, and fluff. Dean being the softest boi

Summary: After a situation with the BMoL, Dean finds himself running towards the person he fears for the most besides his brother. But even when he finds her safe and alive, he can see that something isnt right.

a/n: Ahhh so you know how i said it would be two parts? I lied. Its gonna be four. Anyways I hope you enjoy and feedback is greatly appreciated.

Part 1

You had been uncommonly quiet.

Throughout the day Dean had continued to watch you closely, like he could somehow piece together what was going on with you just by watching. Even after they had packed it all in for the night, you remained much more quiet than normal as you moved around the kitchen to make dinner. Every once and awhile you would hum along to a tune on the radio but that was about it.

“You okay, Dean?”

The hunter sat up straight at the sound of his name on your lips, his arms folded over the kitchen island. “Me?”

“. . .Yeah?” You paused cutting up an onion to look at him. “Who else would I be talking to named Dean?”

He swallowed before quickly nodding. “Yeah, yeah im fine. Why do you ask?”

Shrugging you went back to work, the sound of the knife hitting the cutting block muffling radio momentarily. “You've just seemed quiet that's all.”

“Me? You're the one that's been quiet all of today!”

You looked up from your work once more, eyebrows raised at Dean as you slid the contents off the block and into a pan. “I haven't been quiet. Ive talked to you and Sam today-”

“No that's not-” letting a hand slide down his face he stood up, walking around the island towards you. “I'm just saying, you haven't been as talkative as you usually are. You haven't cracked a single joke today. Not one.”

“I'm sorry?” you tired, not really seeing where Dean was going with this.

“You're always cracking jokes and making lighthearted comments. You haven't done that at all. Whats going on?”

“Why do you think somethings going on if im not telling jokes?” You laughed lightly, reaching around him for a pepper.

“Um- because that's who you are? energetic, lively, funny Y/N.”

“Well I’m sorry, I was a little busy helping you and Sam find your missing mother.” You began, your knife going through the pepper with much more force than needed as you began dicing.

“I just want to know if your okay, that nothings bothering you-“

“Dean, I am Fi--” Your words were stopped short as you yelped, knife dropping to the block as you drew your hand back. “Fuck-” sure enough you had managed to cut yourself, the blood leaving the slice in your finger to run down your wrist.

“Jeez, Y/N-” Dean was in action before you could stop him, moving forward to gently guide you towards the sink. “This might sting for a sec.” Flipping on the faucet he let your put your hand under the flow of water.

“Ive been through much worse, Dee. I think ill live.”

“Im sorry, this was my fault.” Dean sighed, inspecting the slice in your finger.

“Last time I checked I was the one wielding the kitchen knife.”

“I know- but I-” You pressed a finger to his lips, shaking your head. “Don’t. If you wanna really help me you can grab the first aid kit that's in the cupboard.” You nodded your head in the direction you were talking about. “Got it?”

“Mmmhmm.”

Lowering your hand you gave him a soft smile. Why was he always doing that? Blaming himself for no apparent reason. Putting your hand back under the faucet you focused back on the cut until Dean was back at your side.

“Will you at least let me patch you up? To make up for pestering you?” He tried, clicking open the lid and rummaging through it for bandages.

You let out a dramatic sigh before sitting yourself down on the kitchen island. “I guess . . .i mean, it is very hard to say no to that face.”

that got a chuckle out of the hunter before he slotted himself between your legs and carefully taking your cut hand in his to inspect. “I know, I'm a goddamn gift aren't I?”

“Oh, I wouldn't go that far.” You smiled, using your free hand to prop you up as you watched him disinfect and wrap the cut. Every once and awhile Dean would look up from his work, eyes finding yours before giving you an almost timid smile.

Bastard. He really had to stop doing that if the two of you were going to try to continue only being friends. You could hear the little voice in your head screaming arms length away! Arms length away!

At that same moment one Sam Winchester came walking back into the room, hair still wet from his recent shower. At the sight of the first aid kit and the scattered materials he paused on the other side of the island.

“What the hell happened?”

“You're brother stabbed me.” You stated bluntly, sliding back off the granite counter and bumping your chest against Deans as you did. Weasling past him you gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“hey, no I didn't!”

“That’s exactly what a person who just stabbed someone would say.”

“Why you little--” You cut him off yet again, this time handing over the kitchen knife to him with an amused grin. For a moment Dean could see the normal you again, and he couldn't help but smile back.

But something was still there. He could see it under your smile and the glint in your eyes.

“You goin somewhere?”

“Uh, yeah. I called dibs on the shower next. You two can finish up dinner.” Backtracking away you gave them both a wink before disappearing around the corner. Once you had vanished Dean let the facade drop before whirling around to look at his brother.

“What?”

Dean waited another second, making sure you were out of earshot before planting his palms firmly on the island. “Alright, tell me if I’m crazy— but Y/Ns acting a little off isn't she?”

“Off in what way?”

“Off in like- she’s not her usually energetic let’s go kill some monsters attitude.”

“I mean. . .maybe?” The younger Winchester shrugged, not quite understanding what his brother was getting at. “She did say she was spending the week resting up after that rugaru Hunt. She’s probably a little drained from that.”

Dean ran his palms down his face, “yeah, but think about it. Jody said she had been here for almost five weeks. Five, Sam! Five! When have we ever known Y/N to stay in one place for that long? Hell, even during thanksgiving last year she only stayed a few days before running off towards another case.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Dean. Maybe if you’re so worried about her just try talking to her?”

Dean sent his brother another glare. “Have you not seen me trying to do that all day? She just keeps acting like she’s fine- and I know for a fact that she is not.”

Shaking his head in defeat, Sam moved past his brother to continue making dinner. “She loves you Dean. Anyone can see it, and I know you can too. She’ll open up as long as you actually try. And if you love her, you will.”

*        *         *          *

Thankfully Dinner had been more lively than the rest of the day. And for awhile you actually had managed to almost convince Dean you were fine. The three of you spending a good few hours seated at the kitchen table and reminiscing about days gone past. You were cracking jokes again, and laughing at his. From across the table Dean would watch as the corners of your eyes would crinkle and you would double over in laughter. If he could he would stay in this moment forever. One where you all were happy and full of energy.

and then that perfect little image had to fade.

It was almost like you ran out of steam or something because your laughter slowly pattered out and it was like watching you cave in on yourself. You became quiet again, losing yourself in thought as you washed the dishes. Dean couldn't stop himself from glancing over at you each time you passed him a plate or dish to dry. That dullness behind your eyes. Leaning backwards, he made eye contact with his brother. The younger Winchester slowly beginning to see what he was talking about.

“You know what, I can finish up here Y/N. You've already done so much for us.” Sam pipped up, putting a reassuring hand on your back.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Raising your hands in surrender you backed away from the sink. “Well then go for it I guess.” You sighed. “Ill be on the porch if you need me.” retreating from the kitchen once more, you paused at the threshold. “Dean, you comin?”

“Oh, uh- yeah. Yeah ill be out in a sec. Im gonna help Sam finish up.” Dean quickly stuttered. He watched as you gave him a puzzled look before walking away. Not a second later a soapy hand smacked the back of his head.

“Why'd you do that? That was probably the perfect time to talk to her.”

“I. . .Panicked?”

“You-” Sam paused, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You panicked? Since when do you panic around Y/N?”

“I don't know! Sue me!” Dean whisper snapped, rubbing the suds off the back of his head from where his brother had smacked him.

There was another round of silence before a grin slowly spread across Sam's face as he watched his brother. “God, you are so in love with her aren't you?”

“Shut up.”

“Its cute.”

“Dammit Sammy, I said shut up.” Dean growled, wiping his hands off with a towel before throwing it on the counter and walking out of the kitchen and in the direction you had gone.

Dean was expecting to have to search for you, but it only took two steps out the front door to find you. Between the string of yellowish porch lights and the yard lights in the planter boxes you were easy to find. The sun had set hours ago, but the night air was still warm, and the stars were brighter than usual. You were stretched out in the grass, drowning in the sea of life around you as blades of grass tickled the soles of your feet. You were fiddling with the dials of your old radio when you heard the bang of the screen door, looking up.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Sam again?”

“. . .Yeah.” Dean sighed, making his way down the steps before stopping and sitting on the last one. “But its nothing. You dont need to worry.”

“I always worry.”

“I know.’ He paused, watching as you sat up and swung your body around to face him. “You must really like it here.”

You shrugged, setting the radio down in the grass as some oldies playlist softly fell through the speakers. “Yeah. Its quiet here. Unlike every sketchy motel in America.”

“Yeah. You’re right about that.” He lightly chuckled, pausing only for a moment when you got up and moved to sit down next to him, hands wrapped around your knees.

The two of you sat like that for awhile, letting a comfortable silcen fall between you. No words spoken. Just easy silence. During that time it felt like the world had stopped. The only sound being the soft hum of the radio next to you and the even softer drone of katydids and crickets that seemed to come from everywhere. At some point a yellow tabby cat slunk across the grass just beyond reach of the porch lights, jumping up to swat at a lightning bug.

After a few minutes you spoke up again, your voice soft. “Thats another thing I like about you.”

“What?”

“Your a good person to sit with. You always offer silent comfort when needed. Sometimes before I realize I even need it.”

A small smile fell across his lips as he turned his head to look at you, surprised to find you already looking back. You were much closer than he originally realized, and he felt his breath hitch in his throat. You could feel his breath fan across your lips when he exhaled.

God, you were so close- so fucking close. The temptation to close the remainder of the gap between you had Deans heart doing barrel rolls. It was like some silence dance between the two of you, both set of eyes meeting before focusing on lips- and then back up to eyes.

And then the moment was severed when you pulled back, shaking it off.

Dean sucked in a breath after watching you for another moment. “You gonna really tell me what’s going on with you?” He finally spoke, making sure to keep his voice soft as yours, afraid to disturb the serenity laid out in front of you.Somewhere in the distance a dog barked.

“Does it really matter?”

“Yes. Because I’m worried and can see that you aren’t your usual self.”

You didn’t make eye contact, instead you kept your gaze on the tabby stalking through the grass. Why were you so afraid to say it out loud? It had been gnawing at you for days now but actually saying it? And to Dean no less?

“Dean, I think I’m gonna quit hunting.”

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[ursae-minoris-world]

The lost Jedi

G, 2,605 words, chapters : 1/1, AU: Star Wars setting; basically a rewrite of the pilot episode in a Star Wars setting from Keith’s point of view (with some liberties, of course!); so some scenes and dialogues will be familiar!

This was written for @sheithauweek,day 3: ships and stars!

Read it here on AO3, and find it here on twitter!

As the big geek that I am, I also made an animated intro like in the movies, that you can play here. (if this doesn’t work, there are screncaps on the twitter link)

---

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away... The Rebellion is struggling against the Forces of the Empire. The Planet of Altea has been destroyed by the Empire after it joined the Rebellion. One of the rare survivors because she was off planet, Princess Allura is now an important leader of the Rebellion. A group of Jedi on a diplomatic mission on planet Kerberos has been missing, and are reported to have been killed by the Empire. However, Keith Kogane, a young Jedi apprentice, is still looking for his friend Takashi Shirogane, who was part of the mission.

---

"Transferring prisoner 117-9875 for further investigation"

"That is Takashi Shirogane. A Jedi master. We need appropriate security protocol"

"We'll be following protocol AX-711. And he will be sedated."

Keith's world collapsed on him when his father's old radio transmitted this coded message from an Empire fleet to the local Empire base. For a moment, the walls of his tiny shack had seemed to close on him, and he felt like he was being buried alive. Everything became black and suffocating.

He slowly regained control of himself again, trying hard to breathe, his fingers white from the tight grip he had on the desk he had been sitting at. He was panting and drenched in cold sweat. And angry at himself for overreacting like that. It just confirmed his suspicions, after all. He had never really believed in Shiro's death. He knew, because if Shiro had been killed in that mission like the Jedi Order had told him, he would have felt it in the Force, and he hadn't.

He had kept telling them Shiro was alive, had kept pushing for a rescue, but no one listened to him. They told him to get hold of himself, that his behavior was dangerous for a Jedi, that he shouldn't give in to anger or he would fall to the Dark Side. He had kept falling apart, and when Master Iverson accused Shiro of being responsible of the failure of the mission, Keith stopped thinking. He punched him. This is how he was exiled from the Jedi Order. He returned to Tatooine, his home planet. To his dad's shack, empty since his childhood; since Empire soldiers had come and killed his father for being part of the Rebellion. After settling here, Keith had tried to survive how he could, but mostly he had been searching for Shiro.

"Patience yields focus", he muttered under his breath, repeating the mantra his former mentor had taught him when he needed to calm down. That helped him getting his head clear. If he wanted to save Shiro, he needed to hurry.

He knew the coordinates of the Empire base; he just needed a plan.

----

The distraction had worked, and while troops were being sent away to inspect the explosion, Keith managed to enter the base. It was still guarded, but he used the Force on the clone troopers, so that they didn't pay attention to him.

From listening to their communications, he had gathered that Shiro was being brought to the lab section first, rather than to the cells. What that meant, Keith didn't know, but a knot of anxiety was festering in his stomach.

He managed to keep hidden while exploring the base, and, even if he somehow got lost on the way, he finally found the medical area. The first few rooms he looked into were empty, but he did find a lab that was guarded. He tried to use the Force to get in, but that didn't work.

There were soldiers and medics inside, and they all surged at him when he entered. It was too late to try and curb their will wit the Force, so he just used his fists. When they were all knocked out, he sped to free Shiro, who was strapped to a table. He almost tripped over one of the medics laying on the ground in his haste.

He gasped when he got a better view of Shiro. He was unconscious, and seemed to have aged much more than the two years they had been apart; his right arm had been replaced with a mechanical prosthetic, a scar was barring his nose, and the hair from his bangs had turned white. Keith felt tears well up in his eyes as he muttered his friend's name, wondering what he had been through. But he didn't have time to linger on his emotions.

He took out the lightsaber he had inherited from his mother, and cut the straps that were holding Shiro prisoner. Gently, he tried to lift the big man from the table. The motion caused Shiro to wake up; he panicked and tried to free himself from Keith's hold. Keith didn't restrain him.

"Shiro, it's me!"

"Keith?" Shiro's voice was hoarse and his eyes unfocused. He was obviously still under the effect of some kind of anesthetic. Reassured, he let himself fall against Keith again with a sigh. Keith wrapped Shiro's left arm around his shoulders, and tried a few steps, but Shiro could barely stand. Keith hadn't expected that. Getting out of the base without being caught was about to get more complicated than anticipated.

While he was hesitating, three people barged in. It was obvious they didn't belong there, and were infiltrating the base just like him. A little Mark IV sentry droid was with them, but to Keith's relief, it didn't attack;  from the way it was flying alongside them, it seemed re-purposed to be at their service.

Before Keith could even react, a lanky guy strode toward him, waggling his finger disapprovingly: "No no no no, no! No, you don’t! I'm saving Shiro!". He took Shiro's other arm, helping Keith carrying him. His long face, tan skin, blue eyes and pointy chin were somewhat familiar.

"Who are you?" asked Keith, confused.

"Who am I? Uh, the name’s Lance?” He seemed to expect Keith to react, but that didn’t ring any bell. “We were in the same flight school? We were like rivals! You know, Lance and Keith, neck to neck..."

Oh, right, the flight school Keith had been part of.. before he stole Shiro's landspeeder for a ride, and Shiro insisted on bringing him to the Jedi temple. He hadn't paid much attention to the other cadets at the flight school, but after thinking about it harder, Lance had been difficult to ignore. Loud, cocky, and always trying to confront Keith for some reason. Keith still didn’t get what he meant about being rivals. Wasn't Lance a cargo pilot?

"Oh, yeah, I remember you." grunted Keith. "What are you doing here."

"Saving Shiro!" repeated Lance. "Don't try to one-up me on that!"

That left Keith confused. He was just trying to help his best friend. He didn't even know they were coming. Why would Lance believe...?

"I'm Pidge. We're from the Rebel Alliance" stated the shortest, and apparently youngest, member of the group. They examined Keith sharply through their round glasses. "What about you?"

"Keith. Former Jedi apprentice," mumbled Keith.

"What?! Former? Did they kick you out?" There was some underlying excitement in Lance's tone that had Keith's hackles rise.

"Sorry to interrupt", said the big guy nervously, "but I think we should go. My sensor is signaling droids coming this way. And the troops are going to come back to the base soon!"

Pidge nodded. "Let's go. Rover, you go as a scoot!". The sentry droid took the lead.

They followed the less crowded paths according to the sensor, with Pidge going first after Rover, then Lance and Keith carrying Shiro, and the last one, who introduced himself as Hunk, covering their tail with his blaster rifle.

---

Once they escaped, Keith brought them to where he had hidden his hoverbike. Their ship was bigger, and further away to avoid it being discovered by the Empire troops.

Said troops were back from inspecting the explosion Keith had caused as a decoy. They hoped to go unnoticed, but shots in their direction proved them otherwise. Keith pulled the throttle. The troops started chasing them.

Keith's heart was in his throat. Alone, he would have shaken them off them easily, but with everyone on board, they were overloaded. The hoverbike was slow and unresponsive. The tanks, land troops and battle droids weren't much of an issue, but the droideka were catching up. Thankfully, fire wasn't much nourished, maybe because they wanted Shiro alive.

Still, Rover, who was firing back at the enemy, got shot and exploded. Pidge let out a long wail when they saw that, and fired back desperately. Lance caught Shiro, who was still dazed and almost fell down as Pidge let go of him.  Hunk leaned forwards to comfort the young rebel; it caused the whole hovercraft to nose down. That gave Keith an idea.

"Hunk, lean left!" Hunk did, and the hoverbike did too; Keith used it to gain speed. Going on with this trick, he managed to keep distance between them and their pursuers. Adrenaline was flooding his veins. He shouldn't have fun doing this.

"Guys, i-is that a cliff overhead?!" Hunk's voice was tight with fear. It was.

They were all yelling at him to stop. As if it was an option. He pulled the throttle. The rush of blood was chanting in his ears, the wind from the acceleration tossing his hair and adding to his elation.  

This was a trick Shiro had taught him. Everyone kept screaming, but Keith let out a laugh. He managed to stick the landing. Unable to come down, the Empire troops had abandoned pursuit.

Lance, who had a good sense of direction, guided him towards their ship.

"That's Blue!", he claimed proudly. "Isn't she beautiful?"

Keith lifted a skeptical brow. The ship was older than themselves, and looked like a wreck. It was indeed painted blue, to be less conspicuous while flying in the atmosphere, maybe?

Hunk grinned, patting the metallic carcass: "She doesn't look like much, but believe me, she can fly! Pidge and I make sure of that."

---

They managed to take off from the planet without trouble. Lance had improved his piloting a lot since flight school, but Keith still had to fight back an urge to push him off the pilot seat and to take the commands.

They were headed towards a Rebellion base on Arus, where they would join Princess Allura. Lance said they hoped Shiro could share some of what he had learned in his mission and during his captivity. Shiro nodded, but Keith noticed how tense he had gotten.

Even with light speed, the trip would last at least a few days, which was good, because Shiro obviously needed some rest.

----

After catching up some sleep, Keith noticed Shiro's bunk was empty. He finally found him gazing through one of the ship's viewing bays. Shiro was lost in the contemplation of the stars, but as Keith was approaching him, his focus shifted to his prosthetic arm. Keith's chest tightened; they still hadn't spoken about what had happened to Shiro.

Gently, he put his hand on his friend's shoulder, a gesture that Shiro had used so often to comfort him in the past. "It's good to have you back."

Shiro turned towards him, a wistful smile on his lips. "It's good to be back".

Keith hesitated. "So, what happened out there?"

Shiro let out a distressed sight. "I wish I remembered. My head’s still pretty scrambled. It’s all a blur..." Keith felt worry grow in his heart. He wasn't the most informed, but between this and Shiro's nightmares that night, it wasn't hard to see symptoms of trauma. Shiro continued: "How did you know to come to save me?"

Keith shifted uneasily. "I... heard stuff. Coded communications from the Empire. On my dad's radio."

Shiro was now looking at him with a concerned expression: "But... what were you doing, alone on Tatooine?"

Keith hesitated, and there was a short silence while Shiro held his gaze. Keith bit his lip, folding his arms and looking away. "They said you died. I didn't believe them. I would have felt it. In the Force."

"I... I understand. Sometimes... I remember... sometimes, I felt you try to reach out to me."

Keith felt his heart stop. He had thought of Shiro, often, missed him terribly. He had no idea Shiro would be able to feel that. "I... missed you." Shiro was still looking at him perplexedly, and he realized he hadn't answered Shiro's question. "After being booted from the Jedi Temple..." he heard Shiro's intake of breath, "I was kinda... lost, and felt myself drawn out to this place." His voice was breaking.

"You went home."

"Yeah."

Shiro knew about Keith's past on Tatooine. About his mother disappearing when he was a baby, about his father being killed by the Empire. Shiro was the one who had found him there at the flight school. He had seen him flying, and  had insisted that Keith was force sensitive, and that he used it without knowing for piloting. Keith had been reticent at first, but Shiro had managed to convince him to try becoming a Jedi. He brought him back to the Jedi Temple. They had begrudgingly accepted him, despite his sixteen years- much older than the usual recruits. Shiro was the one who helped him finding his footing living with the Jedi. Who taught him how to manage his emotions better. Keith had hoped becoming his padawan when he was deemed ready. It was the closest bond to him that he could wish for - Jedi were not supposed to love, after all.

As Shiro didn't answer, he added:  "I kept looking for you..." He found himself incapable of speaking more. Emotions were overflowing him and he could barely keep himself together.

"You found me", Shiro said softly. He reached out a hand, tentatively. Keith knew that signal. He took Shiro's hand and they hugged, a long time. It felt nostalgic, and it felt different and new too. Keith hadn't even realized how much he'd missed this. When they separated, they were both a bit awkward and flushed.

"You grew", commented Shiro; he sounded shaken.

"Eh. It's been two years." He hadn't even paid attention to his growth. His pants were a bit short, now, but it didn't matter when he was wearing boots. He knew his work as a farmhand had developed his muscles, but he had never reflected on how changed his figure.

Shiro had changed too. He too had gained muscles. His embrace was still as warm and welcoming as before, but there was metal now mixed with his familiar scent. He was however clearly not ready to talk about it, so Keith changed subject.

"Are you going to contact the Jedi Order?"

Shiro took a moment to consider the question. "I...I don't know. Let's meet that Princess first. We can see from there."

Keith let out a relieved sight. Now that he wasn't part of the Jedi Order anymore, he was worried of being separated from Shiro again if he went back to the Temple. And after they had abandoned Shiro to his fate, Keith didn't trust the Jedi anymore. He wanted Shiro safe. And close to him, if possible.

"What about you?" asked Shiro.

Keith shrugged. "The Jedi won't take me back, so. I guess I could join the Rebellion... Like you said. Let's meet the Princess."

---

A few days later, Blue landed on planet of Arus. Lance, Hunk and Pidge brought them in front of the Princess.

She was in a conference room, discussing strategy with a group of commanders. Her white hair was in a bun, and the pointy ears and cheek marks revealing her altean origins. She was wearing simple flight clothes, despite her rank. When she saw them, she left the holographic map they were examination and walked towards them.

"Hello, I am Princess Allura, from Altea. You are in a Rebel Base. Master Shirogane, as a survivor from the Kerberos mission, we believe you may have valuable information about Lord Zarkon and the Empire. Would you accept to share them with us?"

"It is an honor. This is my friend Keith. We are at your service, Princess."

[crescendochan]

Riptide - A Kpop!Marvel AU

Summary: In which you are a wanted vigilante and Stray Kids, one of S.H.I.E.L.D’s top rookie teams, needs you on their side.

Genre: Alternate universe, action/adventure, crime, fantasy, superhero, crackhead!ateez (okay tbh there’s no need to phrase it like this, they’re already crackheads normally)

Parts: Prologue | I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | Ongoing.

Thanks for the support on this story! It really means a lot :) I’m super passionate about kpop, writing, and Marvel, so to get such good responses from my target audience really inspires me to do even better! Also, sorry that this is so short, I’ll try to make my future chapters will be much, much longer. Enjoy! :)

- Erin. 

“You’re lucky I love you,” was the first thing Hongjoong said to you when you opened your eyes. Your first thought was that you must have somehow ended up in hell, and your leader was here too, just to spite you for all the fuck-ups you had made over the past four years of working under him.

“What a handsome devil you are,” you muttered, letting your thoughts be spoken, and groaned as you attempted to sit up in your bed.

Your bed. The bed with the white bedspread with black designs on the sheets. The bed with the twin sized mattress. The bed you had in ATeez’s headquarters.

You had survived.

“Hongjoong, how did I survive?” Your leader gazed at you, and you could instantly tell that he was either on the verge of another scolding or on the verge of tears. 

“You didn’t just survive, kid. Come on, the others are waiting for you in the living room. You gotta see the news.” With a few accompanying groans and complaints from you, Hongjoong managed to get you out of bed and limping into the cozy living room. 

Wooyoung, San, Mingi, Yunho, Yeosang, Jongho, and Seonghwa were scattered about, some on the large sofa, others asleep in the beanbag chairs situated on the ground. The two you had met on the beach were nowhere to be seen. Tears flooded your eyes and you ran towards Wooyoung, looping your arms around him and resting your chin on his head in a rare show of affection.

"I’m so glad you came through.”

Wooyoung turned, eyes wide, and his smile was so wide that you nearly let your tears fall at his relieved expression.

“I found you passed out next to those two guys on the beach. Thankfully your phone hadn’t gotten soaked, so I was able to track your location,” he began, getting up and leaping over the couch, much to Hongjoong’s dismay. The gray-haired boy wrapped you tightly in his arms, letting you bury your face in his chest and finally sob all of your fear out. “Honestly, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if you had-”

“Don’t. Don’t even say it,” Jongho threatened, already having a pillow at the ready to hurl at the older boy in case of his continued dialogue. The youngest member of ATeez stepped over to you and you managed to wriggle out of Wooyoung’s grasp to ruffle his hair.

“I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, apple boy. Now, what’s this about the news I’ve been hearing?”

Jongho made a beckoning motion and Yeosang tossed him the remote, giving you a wave and one of his rare grins. “Our little waterbender~” he cooed, blowing you a kiss, one of your running inside jokes. If you weren’t any better at hiding your confusion, you almost wouldn’t have snatched the “kiss” out of midair and squished it in between your thumb and pointer finger.

“Waterbender? I’d like to know more about this.” Wooyoung took your hand and pulled you to sit next to him and San, who greeted you with a brighter-than-the-sun smile. The bags under his eyes were significantly worse than the last time you had seen him, which, judging by the buttery early morning sunlight streaming in through the large windows on the east wall of your apartment loft, had only been the day before. Jongho clicked a few buttons on the remote and then reached over to steal a marshmallow from someone’s bowl of Lucky Charms on the coffee table.

“Hey! That was the last one!” Upon closer inspection, you realized that San had indeed eaten all the marshmallow’s first, and allowing San to ingest an excess of sugar was never a good idea, as you had learned the hard way.

“Hongjoong...”

“I tried to stop him! I really did!”

“Both of you shut up! She’s on,” Mingi finally piped up from where he sat buried in a mound of fluffy blanket and beanbag chair. After grabbing San’s bowl of Lucky Charms from the coffee table and grabbing a handful of dry pieces from the top, you nuzzled yourself deeper into the couch cushions to hear what the anchorwoman had to say.

“Welcome back to our exclusive continuous coverage of the Girl in the Storm. I’m Stacey Warner. Two days ago, during one of the most vicious storms of the year, eyewitnesses state they saw a girl push a tsunami back into the ocean, also saving the lives of two citizens.”

[kyouryokusenshi]

A Dog Named Hunter

Co-Authored with Billie Reid

Post My Struggle IV. What is next for Mulder and Scully? AU

Tagging: @today-in-fic

LONG FIC AHEAD

Mulder had been taking care of Scully since she had given birth to their daughter two weeks ago. After a thirty hours of a long, painful and difficult labor, Gracie Katherine made it into the world. Thankfully, nothing was wrong with either of them. Scully was just tired and sore. As Scully rested in bed with Gracie, Mulder washed the clothes and cleaned the house. Scully was nesting right up to the time of labor, so not much needed to be done. He was sitting and folding clothes when he heard some whimpering sounds. He knew Gracie was about to wake up. He walked into the bedroom and over to the bassinet. "What's wrong, baby girl?" Mulder picked her up and kissed her head. He glanced over and Scully was smiling at him. "Hey, you."

Scully smiled at Mulder. She never realized how much he had wanted to be a father until now. It wasn't until she told him she was pregnant that she realized he had been holding his feelings back for her sake for so long. "Hey yourself," she said. "I just fed her, so she can't be hungry just yet. Sometimes I wish we were younger, I don't have the same energy I did seventeen years ago," she managed a smile.

He smiled and leaned down and kissed her. "Get some rest. I will change her and put her back down. If you're going to be okay, I'm going to run out and get some food for dinner."

Scully smiled. "Thank you," she was eager for some rest.

Mulder kissed her again. "Say, I will be right back mommy." He waved Gracie's little hand at Scully. He then headed to the nursery and put her on the changing table. "So baby, Gracie..." he smiled at his daughter. “Hope you're not leaving all the bad ones for just me," he said as he opened her diaper and saw the surprise. "That's what's wrong, sweetie," he teased as she cleaned her up and started singing to her.

Scully smiled as she could hear Mulder from the baby monitor. She immediately thought of Monica Reyes. She hadn't seen her since the night they were racing after William. Last she heard, she had met up with John Doggett. She fell asleep thinking she'd text or call her when she got up.

Mulder finished and took Gracie to the bassinet in their room. He then put the clothes up and headed to town for food. He walked into the store and got everything they needed from diapers to food and milk and even ice cream. He smiled and paid for his items when he was done. He walked out and loaded the car up and then he heard something.

"Stop!"

Mulder turned to see what was going on. He was met with a four-legged creature and a wagging tail.

"I'm sorry, mister," the teenage boy said to him.

"It's okay," Mulder replied. "Cute dog." Mulder looked at the kid then back to the dog. "Sit," he said.

The boy was in shock when the dog sat. "Wow, he doesn't normally listen."

Mulder smiled. "Saturn voice."

The boy was holding the collar and looked over towards at the park. "You should come over and adopt him. We have others out for open adoption day."

Mulder smiled as he pet the dog. Their family wouldn't be complete without a dog. "Oh really, I will definitely come."

The boy smiled. "Great, follow me and I will take you to the lady with the application." The boy led him over to an older blonde woman. "Maria, this gentleman would like an application for this little guy here."

Maria looked up. "Thanks, Jack." she looked at him. "So you want our little escape artist?"

Mulder nodded. "Yeah, I do," he tried to brush aside thoughts of Scully's reaction.

She smiled. "Fill this out. He's neutered and is up to date on his shots," she handed over the paper to him.

He took the paper and filled it out on a whim without thinking. This was going to be perfect.

She smiled. "Today is our special, any dog we have here is only $25.00. No home inspection or anything. Hunter is all yours."

Mulder handed back the papers and opened his wallet. "Wow, just like that huh? And he's healthy and everything?"

She took the paper and filled out the receipt. "He is perfectly healthy. He loves people. I think he saw you and got away from Jack. Guess he picked his owner. He a nine month old lab mix. We named him Hunter, but you are encouraged to pick a different name for him," she handed him the recite and the leash. "Congratulations, Mr. Mulder," she smiled and put the money in the box.

Mulder nodded and smiled. "He chose me, huh?" He chuckled. "Well, that is an honor. The only other person who would agree is my wife."

She smiled. "Have fun with him, Sir." The dog sat there looking at him, wagging his tail.

Mulder looked down at him as he took the leash in his hand. He ruffled the dog's fur. "Well, looks like we got to get you some food and stuff before you come home with me," he smiled.

"Ruff!"

Mulder walked back to his car and opened the door to the driver's side. He put the keys in the ignition and rolled down the windows about halfway. Thankfully, the weather had began to cool down. It was finally feeling like fall. "I'm going to get you some food and stuff, Bud, before we go to your new home. Guard the car for me while you wait?" He closed and locked the door.

The boy that had the dog, watched with a smile.

He sat in the car and barked at everyone, but wagged his tail each time when someone walked by.

Mulder quickly grabbed some basics they would need for the dog and the groceries he needed that were on his list. He headed back to the car and figured he'd grab some takeout for lunch.

Scully was playing with Gracie while she waited for Mulder to return. "Daddy will be home soon, Sweetie. I hope so, I'm hungry."

Hunter laid down in the passenger seat for the car ride home with Mulder.

Meanwhile, Mulder tried to contemplate how he was going to explain this to Scully on the way back. He had stopped and picked up some hamburgers and fries along the way.

Scully was laying on the bed with Gracie. "I think I hear daddy pulling in."

She stood up and picked Gracie up. "Let's go see if that's him." She walked out of the bedroom and headed downstairs to the living room.

Mulder took a deep breath as he got out of the car and went around to get Hunter. "Hey Bud, we're home!"

Hunter jumped down out of the car, wagging his tail and smelling the ground. He found a spot in the grass and did his business.

Scully was at the door with Gracie in her arms. Scully's eyes went wide when she saw the dog.

Mulder looked at her like a deer in headlights and tried to manage a smile. "Hi...Merry...early...Christmas?" He had no idea he would be bringing home a dog today.

"Mulder, I said I wanted food. Not a dog."

"Well, you'll be happy to know that I did remember to get the food. Scully, meet Hunter."

She raised her eyebrow at him. "We have a two week old baby. We don't have time for a dog, Mulder." She was upset but didn't want to yell with Gracie in her arms.

Mulder walked up the stairs with Hunter, who sat down in front of them with his best puppy eyes, as did Mulder. "Aww, Scully. Don't worry, I'll do all the feeding and clean up. You won't have to worry about a thing. He'll be good company for us when you go back to work."

She looked from the puppy to Mulder and just turned and walked back into the house and back up to the bedroom. She put Gracie down in the bassinet.

Mulder followed her and looked over at Hunter. "Let's see your new house," he walked inside, keeping hold of the leash. "You'll have plenty of freedom outside too."

Hunter followed him around, smelling things. He saw a bag and went over to smell it. Mulder looked over. "That's a diaper bag. Off limits to you," he said. The dog walked away on his journey.

Scully walked back down and to the kitchen.

Mulder turned back to Scully. "Oh, that's right. I need to grab the stuff from the car. I got you lunch." Mulder removed the leash still attached to Hunter and he followed Mulder back outside as he made a few trips.

Scully shook her head. Sometimes she just wanted to strangle him. She got an ice tea and sat at the table.

Mulder came in with the food and put a bag in front of her. He then got the ketchup and sat it down. He then gave hunter some food and water before sitting next to Scully to eat. "Look, I'm sorry. I promise I will take care of him, you and Gracie."

Hunter ate a few bites and laid down near them. He then got up and walked around. Gracie was laying in her bassinet making a few sounds. Hunter was off investigating.

Scully sat down to eat with Mulder with a long sigh. "We have to talk about these things, Mulder. Communication is what makes a relationship work."

Mulder sighed. "I know...I'm sorry. When I saw him, I just knew he had to be with us."

Hunter followed the noise and was smelling the bassinet.

Hunter sniffed at the bassinet and was looking at it wondering why it was making noise. Hunter comes down and licks Mulder's hand excitedly and trying to get his attention.

He did it again and ran up the stairs. Waiting to see if he follows. Scully looked over. "He's trying to tell you something, Mulder."

Mulder looked over at Scully. "What do you mean?" He asked as he went up the stairs.

Hunter wagged his tail and went to the noise again. Gracie was whimpering. Hunter danced around the bassinet and Gracie was almost to the point of a full on wail.

"That's your baby sister, Hunter, you have to be careful with her though," Mulder said as he picked her up.

Gracie cooed at her dad. Hunter walked over and sniffed them. He huffed and shook his head at the bad smell.

"Oh no, I guess that means you need another diaper change!" He looked from Hunter to his daughter.

Gracie yawned. Hunter licked Gracie's hand. Scully was wondering what was going on she headed up stairs. "Mulder, what are you doing?"

"Apparently Hunter realized she needed a change before we did," he said as he got to work

"I don't want that dog near her," Scully replied protectively.

Mulder looked at Scully in shock. "What? If we introduce them early, they'll bond faster. I thought you wanted a dog."

"That was before we had Gracie," she walked over. "Come on, mutt." She patted her leg.

Hunter followed her out of the room and back downstairs. Scully looked at the puppy when she got there. "You are a cutie," she admitted, petting his head. "I just wish he'd have asked." She went to the couch and the puppy followed.

When Mulder was done changing her, he set Gracie back in the crib and walked back down the stairs. He stopped when he saw Scully. "See I knew you'd come around. Who can resist him?"

She looked over. "You're going to have to train him. And let him know to be gentle with Gracie."

Mulder smiled and wrapped his arm around her. "Of course I will," he said and kissed her.

She kissed him back. She could never stay mad at him. She was so in love with him, it was hard to stay mad for too long. She rested her head on his shoulder.

"Just wait, they'll be best friends before you know it. You wished for a puppy and got one, right?" He teased.

She looked at him. "Why would I want a dog or a puppy when I have my Fox?" She teased.

"Well thank you, you look pretty foxy yourself," he grinned.

------- It had taken a few months, but Hunter was finally learning some basic tricks, such as sit, roll over, lie down and shake. Mulder's favorite nickname for him was Buddy. He knew Scully wouldn't admit it, but she enjoyed having him around too. He was so attentive to Gracie and though William came around from time to time to visit, they lived in the country and didn't have many close friends or family. It was good for her to have a close playmate.

Gracie was enjoying playing on the blanket on the floor with some of her toys. Playing with some of her plastic balls. They'd go rolling away from her and she'd just watch it, trying to figure out how to get to it. Just then, the Hunter picked it up and took it to her, then licked her hand and laid down in front of her. She giggled and pushed the ball out again. The puppy stopped it and with his nose pushed it back.

Scully looked over and couldn't help but smile. She was really happy Gracie had a friend. "I hate to admit it Mulder, but I think you were right. I really missed having a dog."

He looked at her. "Can I trust you with him? After what happened with Queequeg and Dagoo?" he teased

Scully shrugged, "Well, I lost Queequeg on that one case remember? Don't tell me you're suffering from dementia already," she teased. "As for Dagoo, I worked with a nice rescue to find him a home after my landlord found out. Unfortunately, having a dog at the time wasn't realistic with our cases either," she frowned.

"So, now that we are together as a family. It's the right time for us to finally be happy."

Mulder played with her fingers as he watched Gracie and buddy play."Yeah, that's what I whispered in the church, remember?"

"So you also wished for Buddy?" Mulder pulled her hand up and kissed her knuckles.

"Well, I wished for another puppy, so you were close. Only it wasn't God this time, it was Fox Mulder that delivered."

He smiled at her. "You know, we put her down for a nap. Want to try for another one?" he wiggled his eye brows at her.

"Oh God, you can't be serious, Mulder! Gracie was a surprise and impossible surprise, but we're in our fifties!"

"And fifties are the new thirties. We are still young."

"Well, we are in great shape, I must admit, but don't get your hopes up. What happened was a medical miracle," she smiled. "She's our one in five billion, to be exact."

"Good. I was worried you were getting tired of the sex," he whispered

"Oh no, what made you think that?" "Just making sure," he smirked. "And Gracie is healthy and amazing," he kissed her neck.

Gracie yawned and tried to roll over onto her back. It took her a bit, but she got it.

They both looked over in surprise. "Oh wow, she's sitting up," Mulder said

"She is!" Scully smiled at Mulder. "Just look at her, she's going to be so smart."

"Just like her mom," Mulder smiled.

Just then there was a knock at the door.

Buddy started barking. Gracie fell over and started crying. Scully went and picked up Gracie. "It's okay, Sweetie."

Mulder stood up. He hadn't heard any cars. "I'll go look, you stay here." He looked through the peep hole and opened the door to see Jackson.

Scully was doing her best to calm Gracie down.

Jackson looked at Mulder. "Hi."

Mulder looked at Jackson. "What are you doing here?" Mulder smiled at him. "Come in."

"Scully...we have company," he said as he shut the door once Jackson walked in. Buddy was looking at him, unsure.

The dog barked.

"It's okay, bud." Mulder said, petting his head. "Good boy though."

Scully stood up and went to pick up Gracie. Hunter got down and rolled over for Jackson to rub his belly.

Mulder smiled at them as Scully walked around the corner. She was shocked and happy to see him.

"Will... Jackson." she said and walked over to them.

Jackson looked at Gracie with wide eyes. He saw her in the visions he shared with Scully, but he had never seen her in person before, so he stood there in shock. "Hi," he said.

Scully was rocking Gracie, calming her down. Gracie glances over at the new person in the room and stops fussing. She smiles at him and starts cooing.

"Come in and have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?" Scully asked.

Jackson couldn't help but smile back. His head started to hurt a little. If he didn't know any better, he would say she was trying to communicate with him. He looked up and realized Scully had asked him something. "Oh, uh some juice if you have it. Thanks."

She nodded and smiled. She stepped forward and handed Gracie to him. He reluctantly took her into his arms and looked down at her.

Mulder walked back to the living area where Jackson was. "Your--Scully told me about the visions, so we knew you were okay...but we were worried, are you okay?"

Jackson's gaze was fixed on the baby in his arms. "Oh uh... I'm handling it pretty well."

Mulder smiled. "She's really taken to you. She hasn't been around many people."

Jackson smiled nervously. "And I'm surprised you guys trust me, I've never held a baby before. I mean I've seen her, but I'm still shocked you know?"

"Why wouldn't we trust you?" Mulder said as he petted Hunter.

Gracie cooed up that the new person holding her.

Jackson sat next to him and moved his finger towards Gracie's cheek. "I know you know Dana and I do through the visions, but we haven't spent much real time together you know? What is her name?" Scully returned with the drinks from the kitchen and set them down on the table in front of them.

"Graciela...but we call her Gracie."

Jackson smiled. "Such a pretty name for such a cute little girl." He was surprised with himself. He hadn't really been around little kids much.

Scully sat down next to Mulder. He smiled and rubbed her back some. Scully bit her lip, as much as she wanted to fawn over him, she didn't. It felt different now after knowing the truth. She was sure Mulder heard her crying at night while she was still pregnant after everything that happened that night. She felt like her life was a lie. She didn't know what to believe.

Jackson could sense something was off. He hesitated before handing Gracie back to Mulder. "Uhh, maybe I should go. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to come here."

Mulder took her. "Stay, you two need to talk I'm sure. I'm going to go put her down for a nap. If you need anything, let me know," Mulder said as he took Gracie upstairs.

Scully watched him leave. She glanced back at Jackson. "I'm glad you're okay." She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to push back tears. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. "I'm... I'm so sorry Will--Jackson. For everything."

Jackson fumbled with his hands and looked down. "You don't have to be sorry for anything. I had a good childhood for the most part until I was older. My adoptive parents, they loved me even if they didn't always understand why I could do things."

"I thought your uncle put a stop to that. You used to move your mobile in the crib. You scared your Aunt Monica and me once. "

"He did? I'm still learning things about myself and I know there are others like me, but I'm different than the others."

She nodded. "Because you are special. What would you like to know?"

He nodded. "Umm, well there's this man, he says he's my creator...the one who shot me. But Mulder thinks he's my father."

"Carl is his name, we knew him as the smoking man and he's behind a lot of the conspiracies about aliens since Roswell," she looked at him. "Wait, what was that?"

"How come he doesn't see the visions?" Jackson asked looking around to make sure Mulder was out of earshot.

"I'm thinking because I have the alien DNA as you do, but his was deactivated."

"Oh I see," he said. Just then, Hunter came running up to them and buried his nose between Jackson's knees. "It looks like he wants to go for a walk," Scully said. "We should take him out and we can talk more."

He nodded. "Where's the leash?" he stood up and followed her

Jackson found the leash and clipped it onto him and walked outside with her. "How are you doing?" he asked.

Scully tried to manage a smile. "I'm fine, it took a while to recover after having Gracie and we've been worried about you."

"She looks like you," he smiled

Scully smiled as she walked behind their house to the trail they often took. "Well, it's possible her features could change as she gets older."

"So, she'll be cuter," he smiled. "So how upset is he?"

"You actually looked a lot like her as a baby," she said. "Upset? What do you mean?"

"What you said to him, It's not true."

Scully stopped suddenly. "What did I say?"

"What you told him at the docks about me."

"Oh, you heard that?" Scully felt awkward and uncomfortable. "I uh, I didn't mean to say those things. Not like that. Our friend had told me shortly before that...the smoking man was your father. And then I ran into you. Then finding out you had died. I'm so sorry...I was overwhelmed and not thinking clearly. Of course I didn't mean it. I was just in shock."

"The old man isn't my dad. I found records that Mulder is."

Scully looked at him in shock. "Where?" she was afraid to hope.

He pulled a piece of folded paper out of his back pocket and handed it to her.

Scully took it from him slowly. "Is this what you found from the Crossroads Project?"

He nodded. "I wanted to make sure."

He looked at her. "Who's Emily?"

The thought of Emily brought some unexpected emotion to Scully. Gracie actually looked a lot like her. "She was your sister, I didn't carry her though. I didn't give birth to her like you and Gracie. My ova were taken and used to create her, but when I finally met her, she was very sick and she died."

"You sure?" he pulled out another paper. It listed everything from her illness to what happened to her. "They couldn't continue with you around. They put her in a coma and made her look dead."

He stepped closer to her, not sure how she'd take the news.

Scully looked at him in shock. "Are you saying you think she's still alive?" Scully thought for a moment. Emily would be about twenty four years old right now.

He nodded. "That's her paper work. She and I are both yours and Mulder's. His sperm from when he was abducted the first time and your ova." "Wow, this is just...so much to take in. I don't know what to say," Scully felt lightheaded.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to spring all this on you at once."

Scully sighed. "Do you have any idea where she could be?"

"You think I'd come here with all this and not tell you that part?" he smiled

Hunter went and did his business as they stopped. "Where?"

"About 30 miles from here, actually. She's a doctor at a hospital," he smiled.

"Oh really? It wouldn't happen to be mine would it?" She'd been on leave since they went back to the FBI and didn't have plans to return to work for another few weeks.

"You are good," he smiled at her. "I've met up with her. She was shocked to find out she was filling in for you. She adored you and hates the people that took her away from you."

Scully's eyes widened. "She remembers all of that? And you have talked to her?" It was a lot to take in. Hunter ran back to them once he was finished. "We should tell Mulder," she said.

He took her arm as she stumbled. "You still need to be resting,"

Scully wanted to protest but realized he was right. "Okay, but afterwards we go," she insisted.

He started walking back to the house with her and hunter.

Mulder came back down the stairs with Gracie and walked onto the porch. He could tell something was up.

Scully saw Mulder. "Go to daddy, Hunter," she unclipped his leash.

Hunter ran up the porch towards them. Scully grabbed onto the railing. "What's going on?" Mulder asked.

Scully looked at him and handed the papers Jackson gave her to him and then took Gracie inside. Jackson sat on the step and petted Hunter while waiting for a reaction.

Then Mulder looked up in shock, he was afraid to hope as well. "Where did you get these?"

"I've been out searching."

Mulder still couldn't get over that Skinner and Scully had been mislead. He smiled. "Well, when I saw your room, there wasn't a doubt in my mind. You're just as weird as me, kid," he teased.

He laughed. "Oh yeah, like that makes it better," he teased back.

Scully smiled at them. Only thing missing now was Emily. She looked down at Gracie in her arms and smiled.

Jackson's phone beeped. "I should get going. I'm supposed to meet a...friend."

"Oh a girlfriend?" Mulder asks. Scully looked over at Mulder. "Mulder, we have to go look for her."

"Mo...Dana," he started to call her mom. "You need to rest. When it's time, it'll happen." "And no...not a girlfriend." He stood up and looked at them. "I will see you guys soon."

Scully moved to hug him unexpectantly. "Please be careful and um...come back soon?"

He hugged her back. "Oh, I will,” he touched Gracie's face. "Bye, Sweetie."

Gracie lifted her arm towards him and babbled.

He smiles. "You be a good girl okay, Gracie? I will see you soon too."

Mulder stood up. He walked down the steps with him. "You need anything, you call okay and you are more than welcome to stop by anytime."

Jackson nodded and hugged Mulder too. Mulder was stunned silent and then pulled back a minute later. "Hey, that was better than last time," he joked. Jackson grinned with embarrassment. "See you guys later," he said and took off to his car.

Jackson headed into town. He planned to meet up with Emily and talk to her about things more too.

Mulder looked back at Scully and smiled.

"I can't believe Emily is alive," she said, afraid to hope.

"I will look into it as well see what I can find out. Let's take one step at a time okay? Why don't we head inside and watch a movie and relax. I will start looking afterwards, okay?" Mulder took Gracie from her arms.

Scully looked over at Mulder and nodded. "Okay," she couldn't help but feel anxious.

Scully fell asleep against Mulder halfway through the movie. He looked over and reached over to pull the blanket over her.

Meanwhile Jackson drove into the city and to the restaurant where he was supposed to meet up with Emily.

Jackson walks over to her. "Hey," he said and sat down. "I know you're on break, so I will make this quick. These papers are everything I have gotten when I was looking into the CDC and the projects. Right down to everything. We finally have proof," he smiled at Emily as he handed her the papers to read over.

Emily took the papers. "I take it you told them?" She asked. She had gotten word that Dr. Dana Scully was returning to this hospital after an extended leave and each passing day made her nervous.

"I did," he said. "She wants to meet you. She's missed you...and she even smiled when she looked down at Gracie. She said she reminded her of you."

Emily got teary eyed for a second. "Oh God, I have to meet with a patient in fifteen minutes, I can't be crying," she laughed. She was nervous but relieved her mother hadn't stopped thinking about her.

He smiled at her. "Dad's leery of course...think he's being strong in case something happens."

Emily nodded nervously. It was going to happen sooner than later and she'd rather it be sooner. "Yes, that sounds great."

He smiled. "Sounds great, you have my number. I will call you with a day and time." He stood up and stood next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I'm glad things are finally coming together for us." Emily smiled. "Me too, see you soon."

"Take care, sis," he smiled and headed off.

Two days later, Jackson stopped back by the house and knocked.

Mulder had been out for a run and swore he saw Jackson's car, so be began to jog back. Scully was startled by the door. It couldn't have been Mulder unless he forgot his key again. There wasn't much need to lock the door during the day as no one was around for miles, but with their history you couldn't be too safe. Scully had just got done putting Gracie in one of those baby carriers so she could get some things done around the house. She walked to the door and opened it. She couldn't hold back her excitement. "Jackson, I didn't expect to see you back so soon," she said.

"Oh...you um, want me to leave?" he teased. He knew how happy she was when she saw him, but the teasing side he guessed he got from his dad.

Scully smiled. "No, don't be ridiculous. I just didn't want to get my hopes up."

"So, mind if I come in and talk to you and Mulder?"

"Yeah, Mulder isn't back yet, but he should be soon."

"I can come back then."

Just then, Gracie let out a cry. She could sense who was at the door and she wanted to see him.

Scully smiled. "Someone wants you to stay," she said.

He smiled. "She in the living room?" he asked just as Hunter ran to him, wagging his tail. "Yes, she is." Scully was happy they seemed to like each other a lot already.

He walked into the living room. "Hey Cutie," he picked her up. He looked over at Scully. "You think we could all have dinner say...tomorrow?" he asked. Scully looked at him in surprise. "Of course," she looked at him curiously

He smiled at her. "Good...someone wants to meet you too."

"Mind if I take a picture of Gracie to send to Em?"

"Oh, so you two have been in contact with each other?" Scully was surprised.

"I have for a while, yes. Once I found the information out from the CDC and the projects. I was shocked when I found out I had a sister. I tracked her down." Jackson was playing with Gracie as he held her.

Just then, Mulder came in the door and looked at them both in surprise. He looked over and smiled at Jackson. "Hey you."

He walked over and handed Gracie to Mulder. "I just stopped by to see if dinner tomorrow night with all of us would be okay."

He didn't want him thinking he was doing something behind his back. Mulder took Gracie.

"Oh? Who's all if you don't mind me asking? You bringing a girlfriend over?" he teased.

"No. You, Mo.. Dana, me and Emily," Jackson filled him in on. Mulder looked over at Scully.

Scully felt anxious all of a sudden. She was afraid to believe, but hopeful at the same time. She had a feeling the meeting would change their lives.

"You okay with this, Dana?" Mulder asked, worried about her.

"I don't think I have a choice, I go back to work soon. I can't not know, Mulder."

He then smiled down at Gracie in his arms. "Jackson want to take hunter for a walk with me?"

Jackson nodded. "Uh sure," he felt like something was up.

He handed Gracie over to Dana. "Come on, Hunter. Time for a walk."

Hunter was listening pretty well, so he didn't need to put the leash on him. Mulder opened the door and walked down the steps. He looked over at Jackson. "I looked into the info you gave us and I found the same thing. So you trust this…Emily? Scully may want to do a DNA test to check for sure."

Jackson nodded. "I haven't had any off putting visions about her. I can usually sense right away if something is off about someone, like the guy I got a car ride with while you were following me all those months ago."

"So you believe her, then?"

He kept an eye on Hunter. "I just don't want your mom upset again. I don't like seeing her upset."

Jackson nodded. "I know, that's why I waited to tell you guys. I wanted to be sure also."

He nodded. "Okay, I hope you're right," he said and put him arm around him.

Jackson smiled. "So she showed you the papers? I'm sorry you had believe that as long as you did," hoping Mulder knew what he was referring to.

Pulls him closer. "I knew deep down in my heart I was your father. I never doubted it. Just hate when others use my family against me."

Jackson smiled. "Good."

"So...where are you staying at?"

Meanwhile, Emily texts Jackson back. "She's a cutie…You didn't tell them about Molly did you?"

Jackson ran his hand through his hair. "Umm, this motel nearby. The owner thinks I'm a middle aged guy on a work trip."

"Above the garage is like a small apartment if you need a place," he looked over at Hunter. "Come on, boy. Let's head home."

Emily was starting to panic that Jackson told them. She wanted to do it. She was finally able to get away from the project when she was twenty one, but not before they impregnated her. So far they have left them alone, but she always worried when she was at work and Molly was at the sitters.

Jackson smiled. "If you're sure I won't be a bother."

"I doubt it," he smiled "I'm sure Scully would enjoy the company when I'm gone."

"Jack…please tell me you didn't!" Emily sent another message

"Come on son, let's head back to the house."

"About lunch tomorrow?"

"Is it a go... and don't tell them about Molly, please."

"Yes and no, don't worry, I haven't said anything."

"Why am I so nervous?" she was dropping Molly off before work

"There's nothing to be worried about, Em. If it helps, Mom's nervous about you too."

"Mom huh? You're already to that?" she smiled and kissed her daughter. She then headed to work.

-----

Emily went to work and while doing her rounds, something caught her attention. She stopped and looked over the markers on the wall. Dana K Scully, head doctor. She smiled and traced her fingers over it. She knew who she was filling in for, but she never thought in a million years that's she'd be this close to her again. She always wondered if they'd run into each other again and if so, would she know? Jackson found her almost a year ago. It's been a slow course, but they needed to make sure things were done right. She couldn't risk it with Molly around. She smiled as she pulled out her phone and looked at the picture Jackson sent. It was of Gracie. Her sister. In the background was her mom standing there smiling at Jackson and Gracie. She bit her lip. She asked to switch shifts for tomorrow to have off. She couldn't wait. She started walking down the hall to do her job.

The day dragged on, but when she was finished with work, Emily picked Molly up from her friend and sitter, Jane. Jane looked at Emily. "I'm not going to be able to watch Molly for a while. My dad is in the hospital and I'm flying down to be with him. I'm sorry, Em," she said, worried.

Emily's eyes went wide. "No, don't worry, go be with him. I hope everything will be okay. Keep me updated okay?" Jane nodded. "Of course I will." They had been friends for a few years, so Emily knew she could trust her with Molly. She picked up her daughter who was sound asleep and carried her out to the car.

How was she going to explain this to Jackson? Sighing, she pulled into her driveway and parked the car. Getting Molly, she took her inside and up to bed. She went and sat on the couch and texted her brother. "My sitter is flying out to be with her dad. I'm going to have to cancel lunch tomorrow, I have no one to watch Molly." She leaned back, dreading his reply.

Jackson looked at his phone and frowned. "Oh no, well maybe you can bring her...we'll figure something out."

"I can't leave her in the car while we eat."

Emily soon feel asleep on the couch. She didn't know if she should risk meeting them again after all these years, let alone introduce them to Molly at the same time.

"Of course you won't, bring her with us. They won't bite."

She woke up and saw her message from Jackson. It was early and she couldn't believe she slept on the couch. She got up and started cleaning and getting ready. "Sorry I fell asleep, I hope they like her then."

"Are you sure you don't want them to know about Molly yet? We can trust them."

"They are going to find out sooner or later. I was just hoping to meet them first."

She got Molly up and got her some cereal. She then had her get her bath and get ready for the day while she did the same. "We are going to go meet some people today, okay Sweetie?"

Molly looked at her. "Okay, Mama."

"And when we get there, I'm going to leave you in the car to make sure they are home first and then I will come get you."

Jackson had stayed over that night with Mulder and Scully and he had to admit, it was nice waking up in a warm bed. He was eager for them to meet Emily, but anxious at the same time.

Scully was up early making brownies, getting salad ready and cleaning

She made a pie too. She was going to keep it simple with hot dogs, hamburgers and that kind of thing.

Mulder was up keeping Gracie busy as he got some laundry done while he helped Scully.

"Wow, Scully. I forgot how impressive you were when it comes to cooking," Mulder said.

Jackson came down the stairs after sleeping in some. He woke up a few times from hearing Gracie cry at night. "Wow, Dana...that's impressive.”

She smiled. "Always been used to cooking for a big family. Always helped my mom."

---- Emily was just about to head over. She texted Jackson. "What should I bring over? I wasn't even thinking."

"I think there's plenty here, Em...maybe some drinks. Some soda? Dana doesn't keep that kind of stuff here according to Mulder."

"Okay, I will get a few bottles and be right there." She put Molly in the car along with her purse and Molly's things. She headed for the store and bought four two liter bottles and headed over to their place.

She got there easy enough and parked the car in front. After admiring the unremarkable little house, she decided to go inside. "Let me go see if they are home, Sweetie, okay?" "Okay, Mommy." Emily got out, but left her door open. She walked up to the door and knocked.

Scully was nervously cleaning at this point and she teased Mulder about being a slob. She nearly jumped at the sound of the door.

Mulder looked over at her and checked Gracie before walking to the door. He opened it up. Emily was standing there nervously waiting.

Emily looked at him. "Hi,” she said and smiled.

She licked her lips. Mulder looked at her. "Emily?" he asked. She nodded her head. "Wow, you haven't changed all that much."

Scully stood there, trying her best to find the words and was struggling. All the rehearsing she did went out the window. "Hi, uh…come in."

She made a face. "Um…I brought someone. Is that okay?"

Mulder put his arm around Scully who nodded. "Who did you bring?" she asked, somewhat uncertain.

Emily didn't answer right away. She went back to her car, unbuckled Molly and helped her out. She looked at her. “Come on, Sweetie." Emily took her hand and walked back to the door where they still stood. She took a shaky breath. "This is Molly...my daughter."

Scully was overwhelmed this was so much to take in. If this was true, did that make her a....grandmother?!! "She's adorable. Hi Sweetie."

Molly looked at her then to her mom and grabbed a hold of her leg and hid. Emily smiled. "Sorry, she's like this with new people." She turned to see Jackson standing behind them. "Hey Molly, look who it is!" Emily pointed to him.

Molly ran to Jackson and clung to him. He could sense Dana wanted to do a DNA test, but would wait to ask her. He couldn't blame her for wanting hard evidence after all these years. He recalled her doing one on him when she found him and thought he was dead.

Emily smiled at them. "I brought some drinks. I will grab those quickly. And I will explain her later," she whispered to them

She grabbed the drinks and shut her doors. She then went inside with them, still nervous.

Mulder looked at Scully as Jackson picked Molly up. "Want to see a baby?"

"Baby?" She said.

"Yes," Scully said and she went to pick up Gracie. "This is Gracie."

"acie?" she couldn't say all words right just yet, but she was smart. Molly smiled and leaned forward and kissed her head. Jackson held tight as she moved in his arms.

Gracie reached towards Molly and cooed. Scully smiled. "It's nice having visitors. She hasn't been around many people yet."

Emily smiled. She went over to see her as well. "She’s a cutie," then something familiar caught her eye. She looked at Dana and she saw the cross necklace. She reached out towards her and touched it. Scully tensed up slighly and then relaxed as she remembered. "You...remember...this?" Her voice wavered slightly.

She nodded. "Yes…you gave it to me when I was younger. They took it from me when they took me from you," she frowned

Scully fought back the tears. This had to be her Emily. She reached out and hugged her.

Emily smiled and hugged back. "I've missed you so much," she whispered.

"For so long...I thought," her voice broke.

"What happened, where have you been?" Scully had so many questions. "How did you find Wi--Jackson?"

She pulled back some. "I will explain it all once she's down for a nap. I don't let her know what all has happened to me," she looked over at Jackson. "He found me actually. About eight months ago or so." Scully nodded in understanding. "Oh I see." She was glad they seemed to get along well so far. "Well, are you guys hungry?"

Molly had her head on Jackson's shoulder but nodded. Mulder smiled and tickled her. "Hey, let's go get food before they do," he held his arms out towards her.

Emily smiled at Mulder. She remembered he was goofy with her too.

"I don't get to have dinner with other people very often," Emily smiled. "Thank you."

Scully smiled. "Me either... I'm stuck with him," she nods towards Mulder and smiled.

"Is it because I'm Spooky?"

"Yeah, maybe a little," she smiled.

"Thanks," he said.

"I still can't believe you work at Our Lady of Sorrows," Scully said, looking back at Emily.

Emily looked at her. "I was just a fill in at another hospital then got a call to cover a woman on maternity leave."

"Ahh I see," Scully couldn't help but feel proud of the fact that her daughter must have been incredibly smart to be working as a doctor already. And the woman on maternity leave had to be her, though it was possible someone else could have gone. She had been away from the hospital for close to two years.

"You need help with anything?" Emily asked.

Mulder made a funny face at Molly.

Scully shook her head. "It’s all done," she handed Gracie to her. "I will get the plates."

Emily couldn't believe how well Molly and Mulder were getting on.

Molly giggled at him. "You’re silly." Hunter went under the table and hoped for leftover droppings of food.

Molly was talking to her mom as she ate. Hunter took her hotdog and laid down on the floor and munched away. Jackson was the only one who noticed and grinned.

Molly looked and was shocked, but kept talking. Mulder was feeding Gracie and listening. All of them were enjoying this time together. Jackson was so happy he now had a family and siblings.

He held out a piece of meat under the table for Hunter on the sly while he talked. "Man, I kind of wish we had a dog growing up."

Scully looked over. "I've had a few…don't ask your dad about it though," she warned.

"Oh, why not?" He was curious now. Hunter licked his fingers and walked away.

Mulder looked over. "Oh, she keeps losing them."

Jackson frowned. "Is that so?" Scully turned to Mulder. "Well if you hadn't insisted on bringing Queequeg along on that case..."

"Oh, so it's my fault?" he teased.

"Something like that.....so you better take care of this one."

"You said you'd take care of Hunter," she sighed. "So…onto something else.”

------

After dinner, Emily decided Molly needed to rest. "So...we should probably talk,'" she suggested to Mulder and Scully as she and Jackson helped clean up. Scully nodded. "We have an extra bed in the nursery, she can sleep in Gracie's room."

Emily smiled. "Thanks." She helped and then took Molly upstairs for a nap. When she was asleep, she came back downstairs.

She looked at them once she sat down in the living room. "So where to start...once they took me from you, they put me into a coma. I was taken away and awake. They continued all their testing on me. It took years, but finally I was cured. Then it was onto a new test. It took three times, but I became pregnant from their testing. I destroyed the computers, burnt the place down and ran away."

Mulder and Scully looked at her in shock. Scully recalled Sveta, who was close to Emily's age. "Do...you have the marks?" Mulder asked. Emily looked at him then to Jackson. She knew what he was referring to. She stood up and lifted her shirt. She didn't have as many, but they were there. Scully gasped. Part of her couldn't help but feel afraid for Gracie when she was pregnant, but she had run every rest imaginable. She had the same worries when she was pregnant with William.

"Look I know this is hard…I'm sorry."

Scully shook her head. "No, you don't need to be sorry, baby...." she said without realizing it. I'm sorry you had to go through that. It was one of the reasons I had to give up Will--Jackson and sometimes I'm afraid for Gracie too."

"Gracie will be fine…from what I destroyed and what Jackson destroyed. It's over." "I was afraid for Molly for a long time." Mulder put his arm around Scully. "She's a sweet girl," Scully said. "Do you live around here?"

"47 miles from here," Emily replied

"You must be closer to D.C. then, but still that is a commute," Mulder said.

"Yeah…I was lucky enough to have a friend close by to babysit. Which I don't know what I'm going to do next week," she sighed Scully looked over at Mulder. "Well, we have time to kill right now...so you could always bring her here, we wouldn't mind."

She was shocked. "Really? You wouldn't mind?"

"Of course not," Scully smiled. "She is a cute little bugger," Mulder agreed. "Plus Gracie hasn't been around many people. I think it would be good for her too," Scully said.

She smiled. "That would help so much, I can't thank you enough."

Jackson smiled. "I wouldn't mind helping either, Em."

Emily looked over at her. "I know you will probably still do a DNA test...I don't mind and I don't blame you. I have the papers I took locked up safe somewhere if you want to read them." Scully nodded. "Don't worry, I'm just happy to make up for lost time." She looked to Mulder. Meanwhile, Gracie was smearing baby food around and Hunter was looking up waiting for more food to drop.

Hunter jumped up some and licked Gracie. He'd never hurt her, but he was cleaning her off.

"Hunter…down," Mulder said. He walked over and cleaned Gracie. "What are you doing with all this food, huh? It’s supposed to go in here," he tickled her belly. Gracie smiled at him and cooed.

Mulder washed her up and kissed her. Then went back to the living room with the others, holding Gracie.

It was an overwhelming few days, but Scully had collected a hair sample from Emily to compare against both her and Mulder. She also decided to check Jackson's DNA again since the first time they had only done it against her own. She needed evidence on paper once and for all. Once the tests came back, it was confirmed that Emily and Jackson were the children of both Mulder and Scully.

Mulder had been teaching a psych class at a nearby college on and mentored students. Once Scully returned to work, she planned to help Emily secure a more permanent position. Jackson had come to live with them and planned to return to community college the following year. They would have plenty of time to bond as a family. The darkness that overcast their lives as they knew it was gone. They found the light at the end of the tunnel.

End

[hellogreenergrass]

Singy Island - Week Nine

8th Feb – The Foca Hut, West Coast of Signy

Iain and I set off at 10:30am to catch the low tide that reveals a causeway in a lagoon in front of the Orwell glacier. This allows us to route to the other side of the island without having to cross the ice cap. Which today was not visible, a sure sign that you don’t want to be up there. The wind is gusting in petulant little bursts, the gaps between them lulling you into a false sense of stability as you teeter across rock pools and stepping stones that are too far apart for your diminished leg length. We may have jumped the gun a bit with the tide, it could have been lower. And I could have ended up drier. Ive been paying with wet boots and socks all day as a result. Over the crossing we stopped at Waterpipe Hut, an in case of fog/high tide hut, changed socks and dropped off some gin supplies before heading up the Limestone Valley: a steep gorge between the mountain mass that is home to the ice cap and the radiating ridge of that gives us the peaks of Jane and Robin. The valley was more dramatic than the view from base suggests and has shielded its entrance with a short but steep snow wall that hides the valley from view as you stand beneath it.

At the top on Jane Col we dropped our bags in a small saddle of rocks and ascended the adjacent Jane Peak. Some great views back to base and around the whole East Coast. This was the highest point of the crossing and it was a steady walk down to the West Coast from here. The Foca Hut is newer and larger than Cummings, more of your typical wooden shed type hut. Its got four beds in a good sized room with separate living/cooking area and Perspex windows looking out to sea on two sides. After a break, new socks and cup of tea, I set out to finish the sampling that I had been doing all the way from the tidal crossing and put out ion-exchange membranes amongst a Giant Petrel colony up on a ridge. Im putting these out around the island to get an idea of the nutrients the different wildlife groups contribute to the terrestrial ecosystem, so that when I get the data back from the contribution of my bug, I have something local to compare it too.

Back to the hut for a freeze-dried pasta dinner, and then we headed out again for a jolly to Amos Lake a few miles away along the coast. With no work to do I got wildly distracted by everything from feathers in streams to capturing my favourite combination of Signy residents: Giant Petrels and Icebergs. The light was great, oranges and golds seeping throught he gaps in the clouds. Now in bed, wrapped in a zipless downfilled sleeping bag with another Buffalo fleece lined sleeping bag opened up to be a blanket on top, I am slowly warming up. And my feet are dry for the first time today. Im writing by candle and Tilley lamp and the wind is just loud enough to make me cosier without alarming me into thinking the roof will leave us. Walking North tomorrow before heading back to Waterpipe hut via a different route.

9th Feb – Waterpipe Hut

Good nights sleep last night. Eventually got warm, then toasty, then cosy as hell. Was a drag to leave my sleeping bag nest this morning. Iain made me tea in bed which helped though…

We got up and packed, a slack three hours after waking up. Thankfully there was no rush, but still. No Alpine starts here. The winds were reasonably high as we set off and the air was full off mizzle and clag. The ice cap was still under cloud, which was now rolling down the mountains towards us. We walked along the coast, following coves so I could sample for a mite called Alaskozetes along the way (it likes to live just up from the shore). By lunch we had got to North Point where I had some more work to do putting out membranes to assess a penguin colonies contribution to the Islands nutrient content, collecting soil cores and some more mites. I set Iain loose to roam about checking out what we could see of the view and birds. I was working in the Adelie colony I had helped count a few weeks ago, but now it was desolate. Just a few fledgling chicks around, everyone else had left. There were quite a lot of dead penguins, and happy Skuas as a result. Im not sure if this is usual, but I couldn’t take many strides before finding another carcass. Im guessing they were the remains of fledglings that couldn’t fend for themselves once their parents left for sea.

From North Point we waded, literally, across Moss Braes, sampling as we went. Moss Braes is the most intact green bit of the island, a sweep of mire enriched with peat and moss that can be meters deep. After a mile or so of filtering swamp through my socks, we started uphill to a thankfully dry and stony fellfield ramp that leads up to today’s highpoint, Spindrift Col. Once here I was back in new territory having never been down into the Paternoster and Three Lakes Valleys that take up this portion of the Island. We found debris from an old scientific or engineering installation near a lake up in a hanging valley. No idea what it was for, maybe pumping freshwater down to the hut as this was done in the area in the past, although from a different lake I thought?

Arriving at Waterpipe Hut later that afternoon, I was pleased to see that it had a proper stove for actual heat, meaning I could be warm through means other than my own metabolism for the first time in 24 hours. And could dry my socks and rather sorry looking boots. I brought my old hiking boots along to Antarctica for two reasons: 1) they’ve been my loved and comfy companions over many thousands of miles and several field seasons. They’ve been around the world and I didn’t want to leave them out of this adventure. 2) Whilst BAS provide you with perfectly good Meindl boots, these are brand new and I didn’t pick them, so didn’t want to rely on them in case they didn’t fit nicely. Which they don’t. They wilfully try to remove circulation to the majority of the parts of my feet that are most useful. Last time I wore them they did a good job of turning my toes from pink to red and then onto a lasting shade of off-white, regardless of how they were laced, or how much I shouted at them to stop it. So my trusty back up Scarpa boots have been in use more than intended. As I look at them hanging by their feathered shoelaces from the beam above the fire, splitting at several seams, no longer waterproof, oozing with patches of glue from repairs gone by, I am giving in to the fact that they need to be put into full time retirement. And maybe even sent off to the hiking trails in the sky. Or the incinerator on the Shackleton. End of an era. Now I have to battle it out with the, urgh, Meindls *spits to the side in disgust*.

We took advantage of a brightening evening and headed out to collect a few more samples from a local cove and take in the panorama of the East Coast and Coronation Island that a few small hills and knolls allowed us. This part of the Island is strewn with whale bones. Not insignificant ones either. Blue whales. Vertebrae the size of small cars, and rib bones the length of roof beams. Before science came to Signy, this was an old Norwegian whaling station, the large tidal beaches made for good places to butcher a whale it seems. Even the beach outside base has a suspicious amount of white pebbles, which on closer inspection you realise are eroded and rounded bones of whales no longer destined to roam the Southern Oceans. It’s a reminder that most of the knowledge we have of Antarctica has been built over time upon the shoulders of fisherman and whalers who knew this place long before the likes of Amundsen and Scott. Like it or not, the evidence is here in front of me. And its not pretty. Im just thankful that its science that prevails in Antarctica now, and not resource hunting.

10th Feb - Waterpipe Hut

Two big thumps this morning made me look out of the hut window suspiciously. Nope, nothing but a serene view over sea and snow-capped mountains. A larger rumble and crash 30 minutes later sent Iain out the door to investigate. The front of the Orwell glacier was collapsing in on itself. After we packed up and got back to the tidal crossing, we saw that the glacier had lost 30-40m of itself to the increasingly warm winds and sea waters that have been knocking it back year after year. This latest collapse saw the majority of the cave at the front of the glacier, disappear. Now there was new blue ice scarring the outline of what was formerly a deep river tunnel. The Orwell is an interesting glacier in that it spill over the edge of a steep cliff face in a suspended waterfall. At its steepest it is near vertical. The crevasses that form here give the impression that this wall is held on by threads of ice and would collapse at any moment, but in reality even with this level of retreat those vertical walls may take years to peel away from the cliff underneath. Ice really does move very very slowly. What a noise that would make though when it finally does go. A lot of ice to fall a long way down.

After another drenching tidal crossing, we got back to base around lunch, and I promptly took the rest of the day off, enjoying a long shower, central heating, and hanging up my boots from what may well have been their last trip out. At least it was a multi-day hike in Antarctica. Not a bad way to go! I spent the rest of the day spending too much time on photos, and as a result may well have over-edited them all. I’ll let you be the judge of that though!