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spdrwdw · 10 months ago

Note

hi! I saw ur post abt accidentally deleting reqs and was scared since mine wasn’t answered yet (im not complaining bc ur other work is so so delicious to read 😍) anyways here it is. Ok imagine Miguel ohara being the heir to the mafia ‘throne(?)’ ima be so fr idk what they call it 💀 anyways and he’s in an arranged marriage w/ a girl from a diff mafia family as a way to make peace between the two families, except neither he or the girl are happy abt it. Enemies to lovers would just be majestic for the plot in my opinion 🤭. Anywaysssss thank u sm and remember to drink water 🫶🏻

Art by: Kimmy_art0912 Pairing: Mob Boss Miguel x Wife reader Warnings: Mentions of blood, very mild violence, no use of y/n Summary: You and Miguel come from different mafia families, forced to be married in order to form an alliance as threat from an outside. However, you and Miguel can only tolerate each other, at best. A/N: I swear I scratched and rewrote this like five different times.I am sorry it took so long. I am slowly making my way back into writing. I do thank anon and everyone else for their patience as I slowly make my way back to life and I will be writing more Miguel fics soon. I may do a part two to this, depending on interest recieved. I have been getting into mafia books so I am going to be looking into those for inspo if I do make more parts to this. Also, very very light editing was done. Word Count: 4.6k

Your family and the O’Hara’s have been enemies since your ancestors set foot into this country. Both immigrating from nothing but the clothes on their backs and pennies to their name.

Your family started working in the food industry. Working in restaurants, bakeries, etc. Anything that had to do with food. Seven days a week. Working from twelve to fourteen hour shifts just to make ends meet. Your great great grandfather worked at the local deli as well as a restaurant. When he wasn’t cutting up meat, he was in the kitchen making food. Your great great grandmother worked at the neighborhood bakery as well as the tailors. Her dream was to make clothes- dresses. She wanted to be a fashion designer. She started taking classes at the local college once they saved up enough money to invest in her studies.

Eventually, with their hard work and sacrifices, their dreams came true. Your family soon owned several restaurants as well as luxury boutiques. Everyone did their part in keeping the family businesses growing and going.

At first, it was all simply honest work. Your family stayed humble and grateful for their dedication. Then, with your great grandfather, things took a slight turn. He wanted to expand and turn into construction. Nueva York continued to go and grow, with more people coming to try to make a living and a name for themselves. And in that mix, people with bad intentions also tagged along. The family businesses were in jeopardy of being taken over or shut down completely by these power-hungry thugs. He did not want that. So, he and the rest of the family banded together and began hiring people who would be willing to work for them and protect them, whether they were military vets, criminals, or even cops. Anyone who was willing to protect the family.

Allyship with other mafia families also aided in the growth and protection. However, there was one family that yours always butted heads with.

The O’Haras. They immigrated from Ireland around the same time your great great grandparents did. They built their own businesses, casinos, hotels, and clubs- and wanted their own power and a spot with the elites of the criminal world.

At first, things were neutral between the two families. At one point, the two families were almost allies. However, one night, there was commotion going on at one of the O’Hara nightclubs. Members of your family got into a tussle with the O’Hara group and ended up being a blood bath, with both sides losing men.

Ever since then, things were tense, and the bloodshed continued to grow as oppositions rose.

No one really knew what it was that started the feud that night. Some suspected it had been over a woman. Others thought it was simply because some members were drunk and careless words were exchanged.

Either way, the rivalry continued on. Until a new threat entered the city. And there was no choice but to come together.

—

It’s been six months since you moved into his house. Six months since you lost your freedom. Six months since you got married. To Miguel O’Hara.

It all happened in an instant. First, you were out abroad, having recently gotten your first major job as a fashion designer in a luxury clothing company, wanting to be as successful as your great great grandmother, and now you were out on a little vacation to celebrate, when you received a call from your father, ordering you to come back home.

You should’ve relished that Mediterranean breeze as long as you could, because once you got on that flight back home, your world was about to be flipped on its head.

“I’m sorry…WHAT?!” You screeched at your father, you only looked at you with his calm, cool, distant, expression as he inhaled into his cigar.

“You’re getting married to Miguel O’Hara,” he repeated.

“I heard what you said! But, why?!”

“The O’Haras had agreed to a truce. Kingpin is gaining on both of our families. We are losing men and traction left and right. We agreed by aligning our families together, we will gain strength in numbers and influence.”

“And you are shipping me off into an arranged marriage! This isn’t the medieval age or whatever!

Plus, with Miguel?! At least have me marry Gabriel. He’s not an asshole like his brother.”

“Miguel is to become head of the O’Hara family as he is the first born. Plus, his determination has been promising.”

You let out a groan. You could not believe this was happening. You never wanted to get sucked into this life. That’s why you went off to college. To try to get away and make a life of your own. Your efforts were proven to be futile as you felt the rug be pulled from under you and you were being dragged along with it to the same life you were trying to escape.

Your father’s eyes softened. A hint of sorrow filled them.

“I know, sweetheart. This isn’t what I was hoping for you, either. But, it is the only way. We are running out of options. I am sure Miguel will take care of you, and you will be able to fulfill your dream of following your great great grandmother’s footsteps. I am sure she would be proud to have someone actively expanding her fashion legacy..”

You still shook your head. It was just too much for you to take in. Plus, wasn’t Miguel in a relationship with someone? Xina? No..they broke up months ago. That’s right. But, wait..he was seeing someone else? Ugh. The guy has a new girlfriend every other day.

Besides, you two did have a thing going on in the past. It wasn’t serious. Mainly the occasional hookups. You two were of rivaling families, after all. You both did have your reasons for disliking each other. So, the sex was pretty much hate sex? If that made sense. It wasn’t out of passion. Unless you could call hatred a passion.

Never did you think you’d actually be getting married to him.

After the news broke out that you and Miguel were to be wedded, everything went by in such a blur. Preparations for the wedding. The actual wedding. The honeymoon- which was hardly a honeymoon because neither of you actually spent any time together. It was just too awkward, and you knew that he wasn’t happy with this arrangement as much as you were.

When you first moved into his house, you wanted to sleep in a separate room from him, and he agreed. However, when both of your parents found out about this, they were all livid.

“How will you two get to know each other more and become intimate with each other if you are sleeping in separate beds?” Your mom cried one day when she came to visit you. You assured her there would be other situations where you and your husband would bond. Public situations where you’d be surrounded by other people and talking to those people rather than each other.

You two simply avoided each other as much as possible. And during the times when you two were together, your company was either met with silence or bickering. And sometimes even being at each other’s throats.

He would call you names like ‘immature’ ‘wild’ ‘rowdy’ and so on, simply because you refused to listen to him whenever he demanded something from you.

You’d retaliate and tell him that he was controlling and a perfectionist. Because well, he was. He had to have things done a certain way or it would ensue chaos. And while he was right about you being a little more rowdy and wild, it was simply because you had the luxury of growing somewhat more normal. Your parents did not drill the life of the mafia into your head the same way it was drilled into Miguel’s. Which is why you both clashed when trying to communicate with each other.

Right now, you were at home in the library. You spend a lot of time there, and while Miguel’s taste in reading wasn’t usually to your taste, you’d sometimes find yourself reading some of the novels that he was currently reading, as well as reading some that you’ve been purchasing and adding to the collection.

Which reminded you, you had to head over to the mall and purchase the next book of a spicy romance series you’d been reading. As well as look for an outfit to wear at the next charity event you and Miguel would be attending.

One of the few things you liked about Miguel was that he was very generous and active in the community, helping those less fortunate.

Placing the book down, you rubbed your bag and keys and decided to head out for a bit. Saying goodbye to the house staff as you walked past them, you made your way to the garage, which housed Miguel’s collection of cars, ranging from vintage to sporty and modern to big black suvs that you’d use whenever a bodyguard was transporting you somewhere, like parties. You never understood why someone needed so many cars but, whatever, as long as it wasn’t your money being spent.

You made your way over to your car, glad that you were able to bring it with you when you got married. It was your baby. One of the few things you were able to bring with you.

Glancing over at the clock on the dashboard, you bit your bottom lip. You should have enough time to purchase some books before heading off to your parents for a bit. You did promise them you would show up. They were planning lunch for you. It was your birthday today, after all.

—

Miguel stood in front of the battered man that kneeled before him, hearing the groaning of pain coming from their mouth as blood pooled around the cement floor.

Miguel’s knuckles were bleeding. But, it wasn’t his own blood, but the blood of the poor bastard that withered before him. Miguel didn’t like to use violence. He thought it was a primitive way of negotiating with his enemies. However, there were times when a little violence was necessary to get his point across. And to send a message.

Why was this man being battered like a sack of potatoes?

The man spat blood, a tooth or two flying out with the glob of blood as he remained strapped to his chair. His face was covered in blood. Beat up and mangled by the hands of the tall, brooding man before him.

Miguel slowly knelt down before the man, taking a fistful of his hair, forcing him to look up into his almost amber eyes.

“ Eres un demonio! (You're a demon). Not even the devil himself will want you!” the man spat, a glob of blood landing on Miguel’s cheek.

Miguel let out a hum of disinterest. His eyes lacked any life in them. However, this was when he felt the most alive, seeing his enemies cowering and crumbling before him.

He took out a handkerchief from his breast pocket and cleaned the blood from his cheek before tossing the now soiled material at the man’s feet.

“I take that as a compliment, you know. Maybe I want the devil himself to fear me.”

Miguel took out a cigar from his coat pocket and lit it before giving it a deep inhale and exhaled a heavy cloud of smoke at the man’s face. He couldn't believe that one of Kingpin's goons had infiltrated his circle and posed himself as someone who could've been trusted. Miguel was definitely going to send that fat son of a bitch a message, by killing this guy and sending his corpse back to Kingpin's front door.

Not only that, but it also meant that they were going to have to redo background checks on everyone working for the O’Haras. That was going to be a pain in the ass.

"Gabriel! Hand me my gun," Miguel called out to his brother.

Gabriel, Peter, and Ben were all standing several feet behind Miguel, all watching as their boss beat and battered the man before them.

Gabriel was Miguel’s right hand now that their father had stepped down as head of the O’Hara family. Many thought Gabriel was going to take charge, however, Miguel was much more brutal and cut-throat than Gabriel. It made sense for Miguel to take up the mantle, despite him being an illegitimate son.

Plus, Gabriel preferred being on the sidelines instead of making the decisions.

Gabriel made his way over to his older brother, handing him the gun before stepping back to his original spot.

“Now. We can do this the easy way. Where I ask you a couple of questions and answer them. Or, we can do this the hard way, when I ask you said questions and if you refuse to answer them, I get to shoot you anywhere I want.”

”I would rather you just shoot me! I will never answer to you!” The man croaked.

“You never got shot before, have you?” Miguel hummed as he removed the safety from the gun and cocked it before pulling the trigger, shooting the man on the foot.

The man let out a screeching howl as he thrashed on the chair, letting out a series of curses.

Miguel simply nodded his head. “That’s what I thought. So..shall we begin?”

The whole ordeal took only a matter of minutes, as Miguel wasted no time in trying to get his questions answered. The man was not sitting lifeless on the chair as bullet holes decorated his body.

Kingpin had sent a lower ranked grunt to spy on them, trying to scope up any valuable information to report back to his true boss. Unfortunately for Kingpin, those in the lower ranks didn’t really get to be part of the action and behind-closed door discussions, so, this man’s life was unnecessarily wasted.

“Send his body back to Kingpin. Just leave him on his doorstep,” Miguel said as he examined his suit, letting out a grunt when he saw small splatters of blood. He was going to have to go home and change. “Will do. You should start heading back home. I am sure you wife is waiting for you,” Gabriel said as Peter and Ben began placing the body into a black body bag and carried him out to the waiting pick-up truck.

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t hate you, but he knew that you hated him. And you had every right. You got married to him out of force, and while that wasn’t necessarily his fault, he didn’t blame you for holding a grudge on him.

“Keep me posted on any activity. I need updated background checks on everyone working for us. We can’t let anyone else slip through the cracks,” Miguel stated as he made his way over to his car, with his brother following behind him. Gabriel nodded his head as he watched his brother leave.

He had to make sure no on in his inner circle was actually working for Kingpin. Is someone indeed was, might as well just shut everything down then and there.

No. Miguel wouldn’t give up just like that. He would just have to work harder and steer Kingpin off track.

But, for the time being, his main goal was to get back home and get to his wife. It was your birthday, after all.

–

You spent the majority of the day with your parents. You had gone over to your former home- which you still miss deeply. It was such a stark contrast from where you lived now. There was just so much character, so much history in this house. It was the same house your great great grandfather had bought as a gift to his lovely wife, your great great grandmother, once their businesses were booming.

It had twelve bedrooms and sixteen bathrooms. A library where your mother would take you to read. When you were young, you’d pick out a book for your mother to read to you in bed. Mainly a fairy tale story.

You always thought your life would be a fairy tale. You always imagined yourself as the princess or heroine, going on adventures and falling in love. However, the universe was not like those in the stories. Maybe in an alternate universe. But, not in this one.

Instead, you were forced to marry the enemy in hopes of forming an alliance. Which, depending on how you looked at it, could’ve been seen as a fairytale. It didn’t feel like it. You weren’t in love with Miguel. You tolerated each other at best. Plus, you guys had shared history which made things pretty awkward at times.

—-

You were back home, waiting for your darling husband to come home and wish you a Happy Birthday. He also supposedly promised to take you out to dinner. It was really an attempt for you two to get somewhat closer together. But, you weren’t sure how well that would play out. You both liked to push each other’s buttons. You were sure it would occur tonight. And honestly, you wouldn’t want to have it any other way. You wanted to be a thorn on his side. He was always so full of himself. Always thought himself to be this bigshot. Untouchable. Unweavered. You loved proving him wrong.

You continued to wait and wait. The house staff had left for the night, including Miss Cheryl, your personally favorite housekeeper. She was an older woman, possibly in her mid-fifties. You never cared to ask her- mainly because you didn’t want to be rude and you actually liked her.

Looking up at the clock in Miguel’s office, you saw that it was already seven thirty in the evening. Reservations were supposedly made for eight. Miguel had thirty minutes to get there.

A part of you didn’t really care if he had forgotten or just waved it off. You didn’t want to force yourself to be nice with him, because who knew, you might just throw a glass of wine at him just as you did during your wedding reception.

You could hear a chime coming from the Alexa that rested on Miguel’s desk, signaling that someone had entered the house.

Finally. You honestly thought he wasn’t going to come.

Raising from his chair, you decided to go ahead and greet your husband.

He was making his way upstairs as you made your way down the hallway, both of you making eye contact.

“You’re late. I thought you weren’t going to come,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

As Miguel stepped closer, you could notice blood splattered on his white shirt.

“I know. Let me get changed real quick,” he replied as he walked past you.

You knew Miguel had a way of dealing with those who wronged him. You have seen his blood-stained knuckles, bloodied shirts and a dangerous look in his eyes. It’s pretty much like in the movies. Some poor unlucky soul gets tortured to death by the boss or someone higher up. You’d like to think that Miguel isn’t simply killing people just because of blood-lust. While it wasn’t your business to judge, you didn’t want to be married to someone who is a little too eager to get blood on his hands.

You made your way to his room, standing by the door as you watched Miguel slip on a fresh pair of pants and button-up shirt, something more suitable for dinner. Once he was finished, he took another look at you, furrowing his brows a bit.

“What?” You questioned.

“What are you wearing?”

“What do you mean ‘what are you wearing’?” You asked, looking down at your dress.

“Don’t you think that’s too revealing?” He asked.

“What? Revealing? Where? Don’t tell me showing a little leg and shoulder is prohibited. Come on! This is the height of fashion right now, as well as demonstrating body positivity.” Miguel simply gave you a look as if in disgust. Not for the body positivity part. But rather your fashion choices. He was aware of your family’s success in the fashion industry. He even applauded it. But, he was also a man with much simpler tastes. Tastes that you would sometimes groan over.

“Well, I’m not changing, so let’s just get going,” you said as you grabbed a shawl to compliment your dress, and to shut Miguel up.

The ride to the restaurant was quiet, save for the music that was playing on the radio. You two had very different music tastes. Not surprising. Sometimes you’d change the station or hook up your phone to Bluetooth. But, you tried to sit back and let him listen to his music this time.

When you two managed to get there, Miguel stopped in front of the valet and got out. The valet driver in-waiting opened the car door for you to help you get out as Miguel rounded the car, handing the keys over to the young man who then took the sleek black suv to the parking garage.

He gave you his arm to take. It had become routine. Show some sort of display of affection while in public. You never knew who could be watching. Sometimes cameras would pop out in front of you two.

The proposal was rushed. The engagement. The wedding. People grew suspicious, and rightfully so. Your families quickly came up with a story of how you and Miguel were seeing each other in secret despite the rivalry of the families. The alleged secrecy of romance and hurried marriage gave you two the the title of Romeo and Juliet. Two star-crossed lovers who went against all odds just to be together despite your families and their differences. But, unlike the story, your ending didn’t result in a double-suicide, but rather acceptance, wedding bells, and peace between the two families. Everyone bought it. Well..almost everyone.

As you two made your way inside and were greeted by the hostess, you were taken to a more secluded area of the restaurant. There, the table had been set up especially for you. A bottle of wine rested over a bed of ice, candles were lit on the table, as well as around the perimeter of your area. It would have been romantic, had you actually had romantic feelings for Miguel.

Still, he was a gentleman and he did go out of his way to reserve a nice place for you.

He pulled a chair out for you to sit and scooted you in before taking his seat across from you. The music from a live pianist in the main dining hall still reached your private area. Had it not been for them, the room would’ve been dead silent as you and Miguel silently looked through your menus.

“Can I pour you a glass of your wine?” A waitress asked onceshe approached your table. She was young. Tall and thin with big blue eyes and blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. And wearing way too much makeup. At least for your tastes.

You could see how she was looking at Miguel, batting her fake eyelashes. You thought they were either going to fall off or send her flying away. Either way, you simply rolled your eyes. You didn’t care if Miguel got hit on, but come on, at least not while you were right there to see.

“Yes, thank you,” Miguel said, giving her a charming smile. It made you roll our eyes again. Yes, he was being polite and all, but you could see right through him.

“Can I offer you both an appetizer to start?” She then asked, still looking over at Miguel.

Miguel then looked over to you, giving you a nod. “Would you like something to start with?”

”Yes, actually. Some bread for the table. they usually bring it out at the beginning,” you started. Which was true. You were just trying to be a little petty.

“And how about some crab cakes and a salad for the table?”

The waitress nodded her head, her smile now a straight line. So straight, you could swipe your card through it like a card reader.

“Yes, of course. I will put those in for you and bring you your bread,” she said before leaving the table.

You simply rolled your eyes once again as you settled back against your seat.

“How was lunch with your family?” Miguel then asked, trying to make conversation.

“It was fine,” you responded. Usually, your responses would be short, and Miguel wouldn’t entertain the topic further. You knew you should at least try to get along with him, giving that you are married and that you will be spending the rest of your life with him. You simply assumed that it just hadn’t kicked in yet. You were going to try, though.

One day.

“Ah, Mr. O’Hara! Mrs. O’Hara! A pleasure to see you two here tonight!” Someone behind you exclaimed. You could hear their heavy footsteps before turning around and seeing the owner and head chef of the restaurant. “Javier. A pleasure to see you,” Miguel said. “We were just celebrating my wife’s birthday.” “Ah! Of course! Happy birthday, Mrs. O’Hara. You look as stunning as ever,” Javier exclaimed. The man was five foot three, a mix of tan to sunburned skin, and all round. He kind of reminded you of the Pillsbury mascot. He looked so squishable and jolly.

“Actually, Javier. Would you mind me having a word with you, real quick?” Miguel then asked, scooted his chair back from the table and stood, easily towering over the man.

“O-oh! O-of cours! Of course! Come, come! Let’s step to the side,” Javier stated, now looking a little nervous as he led Miguel out of the room, leaving you alone.

All while Miguel was having his private conversation with Javier, the waitress came back with the bread and appetizers.

“We are going to need a couple of minutes,” you stated as she placed everything onto the tables.

“Of course! I’ll make my way back around in a few minutes,” the waitress said, giving you a tight-lipped smile.

You tried your best to not roll your eyes at her again as she left. Letting out a sigh, you decided to dig into the bread and appetizers. You sure weren’t going to wait for Miguel to come back to start eating. You never waited for him. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you knew you’d be waiting forever for him.

–

Soon enough, you were back home. You were still slightly curious about the conversation Miguel had with Chef Javier. But, you didn’t think you should press Miguel about it. Some things were meant to be kept in private. Besides, you wanted no part of this whole mafia stuff. It had stolen so much of your freedom already. You wanted to remain ignorant of what goes on behind closed doors as much as possible.

You both made your way upstairs, neither of you speaking as you made your way to your rooms for the night.

Tomorrow you were planning on heading over to the boutique. Your cousin was currently operating it and sometimes you’d go to help her out. It helped you get out of the house every once in a while. Plus, you were usually filled with inspiration when you were surrounded by your family’s clothing. You were still working on your portfolio to give out to various companies, in hopes they would hire you.

You were confident that they would. You were talented. Plus, you have your family’s name to back you up. Now, all you had to do was to make sure you get a good night’s rest so you could get up refreshed.

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puckinghischier · 3 months ago

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alli there is this idea in my head and since I love how you write Nico I wish you could write this

there is a Gracie Abrams song called In Between and I’ve been thinking about a headcanon or something based on that song so it’s like gracie is describing yours and Nico relationship

it’s such a cute song describing two people falling in love and to me it screams falling in love with Nico

really hope you could do something with this request ❤️

this is such a cute request and i hope this is at least semi close to what you were thinking of 🫶🏼

(i kinda manipulated the lyrics and left some out of certain sections just so it would make more sense/flow better)

I just can’t come between em’, they got their own thing; I wish he’d stop pretendin’, he won’t let his phone ring for more than a couple seconds oh I think maybe two

Nico drags behind his teammates as they come off of the ice, hearing the various grunts and complaints about needing an ice bath and a shower.

He smirks to himself as he makes his way to his locker, taking his time, watching the hoard of sweaty hockey players quickly trickle out of the room. Taking a peek behind his shoulder, making sure he’s mostly alone in the large room, he pulls his phone out of his bag, making sure he has no missed calls or messages.

“Cap! Thought you said no phones in the locker room this season? Or does that only apply to us lowly alternates and unlettered players?” Jack pokes fun at his captain, slapping a hand on Nico’s back, startling him.

Sliding his phone out of sight, he turns to greet Jack. “Just checking to make sure I didn’t miss anything important,” Nico gives a nervous smile.

Jack eyes Nico skeptically. “C’mon, Neeks. You’re acting like a lovesick fool. Just ask her out already.”

“Jack, I told you it’s not like that. She’s just…nice to talk to,” Nico won’t meet Jack’s expectant eyes, focusing his attention on the wooden cubby for any vibration or buzz of his phone against the hardwood.

Ever since the night he met you at one of the post-game trips to the bar, Jack knew Nico was smitten, encouraging him to do something before someone else came along and whisked you away under his nose.

“Bullshit. You’ve been glued to your phone for weeks now. Every time you hear even the slightest indication your phone is ringing, you’re jumping at the chance to answer it,” Jack calls him out on his eagerness.

“I have not been! I’m just-“ Nico’s defensive tone is cut short by the quiet ring of his phone, head snapping over to where it rests next to his helmet. His hand immediately shoots out to grab it, smiling when he sees your name on the screen.

“Hey! I was just thinking about giving you a call. Just got done with practice and was wondering if you wanted to-“ Nico stops mid-sentence after hearing Jack clear his throat, already having forgotten where he was and that Jack was standing right behind him.

Jack raises his eyebrows at his friend, giving him a much deserved ‘I told you so,’ look.

“Hang on a second, okay?” Nico puts his hand over the speaker of his phone, addressing Jack. “Can you just go shower already? This proves absolutely nothing. It’s an isolated incident,” he whispers, not wanting you to be hinted to the previous conversation.

Jack shakes his head, laughing. “Whatever you say, Cap. Hi, y/n!!” Jack shouts out as he walks towards the showers, hearing you return his greeting with a small giggle through Nico’s phone, wondering when the two of you are finally going to admit your feelings for each other.

I wish that you could see ‘em, their faces lighten up; Their past is cold and empty, they know it’s been enough; Of waitin’ on somebody, someone who doesn’t care; But he knows her name, she knows he’ll always be there

“Y/n, when are you finally going to lock that man down? You know he’s absolutely obsessed with you, right?” your best friend asks you, watching Nico glide across the ice.

Your cheeks involuntarily turn red, not knowing how to respond to her. You know how you feel about Nico, but you can’t just assume that he feels the same way. “You don’t know that. He’s just a nice guy. He could act like this towards all of his friends.”

No sooner than the words leave your mouth, Nico makes eye contact with you from across the ice. His face breaks out into the widest grin you think you’ve ever seen, your own matching his. You give him a small wave, his gloved hand returning the gesture as you watch Jack skate up to his side. The disappointment settles in your stomach the second his bright eyes are no longer focused on yours, trying really hard not to be mad at Jack, considering they are working right now.

Your best friend, witnessing the entire interaction, has her own smile on her face, knowing that you deserve someone like Nico in your life after your previous relationship endeavors. You’ve been hurt time and time again due to how quickly you become attached, always seeing the best in the worst people. Nico is different, though. She can see how much he wants to make you happy, how kind he is. If any man’s face lights up like that when looking at you, there’s a 100% chance he’s already in love with you.

Which is why, when her and Jack catch each other’s eye, a silent understanding is passed between the two, a small nod of confirmation shared.

Jack feels the same way about Nico as your best friend does about you. Nico deserves someone like you after all of his past failed relationships. All of the girls taking advantage of his loving nature and kindness because they want the status that comes with dating a professional athlete, moving on to the next sport when they get bored with Nico. Jack having been there to pick up the pieces, Nico getting far too attached far too quickly with all the wrong people. But watching the way you always look at Nico, like he’s the only person in every room you’re in, he knows you’re someone Nico needs to keep around.

So, Jack starts putting his part of the unspoken plan into motion.

“Go, do it now,” Jack encourages Nico.

“Do what? What are you talking about?” Nico turns to face Jack, trying to not be annoyed he’s stealing his attention away from you.

“Ask her out, duh? Now’s the time. She can’t say no in front of all these people, right?” Jack gives him a slight push, skating him right over to the glass.

“I don’t want her to say yes because she’s been put on the spot, Jack. I want her to say yes because she genuinely has feelings for me,” Nico protests, trying to stop himself from being pushed towards you.

His efforts are pointless, hearing Jack yell out “Y/n!!” loud enough that you’re able to hear him through the glass.

“Hi!!” you giggle out, laughing at the pout on Nico’s face.

Nico looks up at you, pout immediately dissolving. “So, can I expect a win tonight or am I going to end up being some kind of bad luck charm, since it’s my first game?” you shout at Nico, being brave and taking your friend’s encouragement to heart, attempting to be a little flirtatious.

“Are you kidding me? You could never be bad luck. If anything, I think this will be our best game this season,” Nico perks up a bit, skating a little closer to the glass, wishing the barricade wasn’t there, wanting to hear your voice and see your blushing cheeks without the slight blur from the scratched surface.

“I don’t know if I can handle that kind of pressure,” you laugh out, unconsciously leaning forward, focused on how much you love the way Nico’s hair flares out in little tufts on either side of his helmet.

“No pressure, just the truth,” Nico shrugs. He catches Jack out of the corner of his eye, remembering the younger forward’s words as he was pushed over here against his will. The small look of expectancy on Jack’s face pushes Nico to take the risk, deciding he’s done tiptoeing around his feelings for you.

“In fact, after we win this game due to the luck you have running through your veins, why don’t I take you out for a celebratory dinner? Or drinks? Or ice cream? Or whatever you want?” Nico starts rambling, his nerves sky rocketing once he sees the soft surprise take over your features.

You’re beginning to think the blush on your face is permanent at this point, feeling it grow deeper at his question. You’re trying to think of a clever response, not wanting to seem too eager, but you blurt out “Ice cream!” before your brain can stop your mouth.

Nico chuckles in both relief and amusement.

“Uhm, I mean, that sounds fun,” you try to recover. “As long I’m not blamed when this supposed ‘good luck’ backfires on everyone.”

Nico shakes his head, assuring you that’s not possible. The sound of the buzzer signaling warm ups are over startles you, feeling embarrassed at how much you jumped.

“Meet me after the game, okay? I’ll be in the tunnels, waiting,” Nico shouts before he skates off, giving a small wave.

Watching him glide away, something tugs at your stomach, telling you he’ll always be there waiting for you. Not just after games. Not just tonight.

Jack and your best friend look at each other through the glass, having witnessed the whole conversation. You’re so focused on Nico’s retreating figure that you don’t notice the air high five they give each other.

She toes the line between em’, he says he’s new at this; There’s holy ground beneath them, and sparks fly when they kiss; He hates it when she’s crying, he hates when she’s away; Even at their worst, they know they’ll still be okay

It’s your first time dealing with Nico being on the road for this long (over a week) since your impromptu ice cream date months ago. They ended up winning the game, so Nico kept his promise. By the time the game ended, however, every ice cream parlor he drove you to was closed.

He ended up taking you to the grocery store, telling you to pick out any flavor you wanted, and he’d take you back to his apartment for an ice cream party. He casually bought 10 half gallons of ice cream, because he claimed he couldn’t decide on a flavor. He set up an extravagant topping bar, too, and did a whole bit as if he worked in an ice cream shop.

Ever since that night, your ice cream dates became a routine, meeting him at his apartment after home games, bad days, and just nights you wanted to see him. The two of you were determined to eat through all of the ice cream he bought, Nico complaining that all the extra sugar was slowing him down on the ice.

Tonight, however, you were sitting in your apartment with your best friend, upset because you haven’t heard from Nico in three days.

“I’m sure they’re just busy, Y/n. I have a hard time believing Nico would just ghost you,” she tries to reason with you, not liking how down you seem.

“I thought that on day one, then again on day two. But then you came over and Jack has been messaging you for the past hour, so they’re obviously not busy right now,” you huff out, staring at your cold, black screen.

Despite how much time the two of you have been spending together, nothing has really changed between the two of you. There’s never been a conversation about what the cuddles on his couch mean, or the fact that you’ve been coming to all of his games that are in Jersey. You never discussed what it meant when he gave you one of his jerseys to wear, and you still haven’t given it back. Not a word about it was shared the night you tagged along to the bar with him and the rest of the team and he drove you home, walking you to your door because you were a little too tipsy, only a small goodbye shared after you stood in your doorway, staring back at him for an eternity.

“Well, Nico is the captain. Maybe he’s got other stuff going on that Jack doesn’t. Do you want me to ask Jack why-“

“No!” you’re quick to interrupt. “I don’t want him thinking I’m some level 3 clinger when we’re not even dating.”

She just rolls her eyes, everyone but the two of you aware that you’re basically dating without the label.

“Alright, I won’t. It was just a suggestion,” she puts her hands in the air, surrendering.

Looking at your phone again, you sigh at the lack of activity.

“They’re coming back tonight anyways, right? Maybe he’ll call when he gets back in. He might be asleep on the bus or something. Yeah, I’m sure that’s what it is,” you reassure yourself.

You best friend texts Jack anyways, tired of seeing you freak out over this, wanting to know why Nico just suddenly went radio silent on you the last three days of their roadie.

“Neeks,” Jack nudged Nico, knowing he was awake.

“What? I told you I just wanted to be left alone to sleep. I’m tired,” Nico snapped, his mood matching yours, even from miles away.

“Okay, mr pouty butt, no need to take my head off,” Jack responded, earning an eye roll from Nico. “Just wanna know why you’re in such a bad mood when you know you can call Y/n at anytime.”

Nico hadn’t talked to you in three days and it was killing him. Luke had made a comment about how often he called you, sometimes two to three times a day, and it made him worried he was being annoying, considering the two of you weren’t even officially together. But, he hadn’t heard from you, either, so he didn’t want to be the one to break the silence incase you really did think he was being clingy.

“I’m just…giving her space,” Nico shrugged, not wanting to get into the details with Jack on the slightly smelly bus.

“Whatever you want, man, but maybe you should call her when we get back. Just so she knows you’re not ghosting her,” he advises, not wanting to tell him that you’re sitting at home pouting just like he is. He didn’t want you to find out your best friend had betrayed your trust, either.

It’s like an alarm went off in Nico’s head. He never once thought that you’d think he just up and quit talking to you for no reason. Or because he didn’t want to. Because god, did he want to. All he ever wanted to do was talk to you. First thing in the morning, before he goes to bed at night, when he’s bored, when he sees a stray cat, when he passes by your favorite bakery, when he sees someone with a cup from your favorite coffee shop, always. He always wants to talk to you.

“Shit, you’re right,” Nico sits up, grabbing his phone and opening your contact.

“Uhh…he’s calling me,” you blurt out, finally seeing the Nico’s contact picture pop up on your phone screen, watching his smiling face with whipped cream everywhere stare back at you. “What do I do?”

“Answer it, dummy!” your best friend rolls her eyes at you.

“I don’t know if I want to,” you tell her, still just watching it ring. “He did just ghost me for three days, what if it makes me look pathetic?”

“Oh my god you’re not going to look pathetic, just answer the damn phone!”

You watch the phone screen go black, the decision being made for you.

“Well, I guess that answers that one. Or…doesn’t answer it,” you look up at her.

“I swear, you’re both so helpless,” she groans out, raking her hands down her face in frustration.

“Maybe he’ll get a taste of his own medicine,” you say, the taste of the words on your tongue bitter, knowing you should have just answered the phone.

“Whatever, I’m going to pick up Jack. He said they just got in, incase you were wondering,” she tells you before leaving your apartment, leaving you to sulk alone, again.

Nico rushes over to your apartment, praying that you’re still awake so he can fix this. After you didn’t answer his call, he freaked out, thinking he’s fucked this whole thing up before it even started.

Jack told him to just wait until tomorrow and try to call you again, but Nico needed to fix this now.

Nico barely puts his car in park before he’s running into your building, pressing the elevator button over and over again in hopes it’ll make the door open faster. Once he finally reaches your floor, he’s speed walking straight to your door, knocking on it like his life depends on seeing your face.

“Y/n! It’s me!” he tries not to shout, but he makes sure he speaks loud enough for you to hear him through the door. “Please open up. I wanna see you. Wanna talk to you,” he pleads.

He’s about to start the harsh assault on your door again, at this point trying to wake you up in case you had gone to sleep, just needing to see you and fix all of this.

He hears the lock click, his breath catching in his throat.

When you open the door, he’s met with you clad in your pajamas and hair haphazardly thrown on the top of your head in a knot. You look confused, not expecting to see him outside of your door this late at night.

“Nico?” is all you say, not knowing how else to react.

“Hey,” he breathes out, thinking about how cute you look right now, even if there is a frown on your face.

“It’s one o’clock in the morning, is something wrong? Didn’t you just get back? Why aren’t you home right now?” he sees you staring at his tired eyes with sympathy.

“I had to see you,” is all he can manage to say, not exactly having a plan.

He hears the small giggle come out of your mouth, loving the sound.

“Okay, well here I am,” you respond to him, switching your weight from one foot to the other.

Nico shakes his head, like he’s clearing his thoughts. “I had to see you, and fix this.”

He watches your face morph into confusion. “What do you mean?”

Maybe he was just being paranoid? And dramatic?

“This. Us. The fact that we haven’t spoken in three days,” he starts, knowing he was right when you stand a little taller, like you were bracing yourself. “I swear, I didn’t mean to just go silent on you. Luke got in my head, made me think I was being annoying. I got a little crazy thinking about how ‘we’re not even dating, why am I being so clingy right now?’, but then I realized, I want to be clingy. I want to talk to you every hour of every day. I want to be dating you.”

He hears your gasp. “You…what?”

“I want to be your boyfriend,” he speaks softer and slower this time. “Hell, according to Jack I basically already am. But I want it to be real. I want us to be real.”

He watches the tears fill your eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey. No, I didn’t mean to make you cry, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he reaches forward, pulling you into a hug.

“No, it’s fine, I’m not-“ you can’t finish your sentence, Nico squishing your face into his chest.

“I’m new to all this, okay? I don’t know what I’m doing half the time, I don’t have much experience actually dating people. I didn’t want to scare you away by moving too fast, but then I kinda did the opposite, huh?” he keeps talking, his nerves getting the best of him once again.

“Nico, listen to me,” you pull back, looking up to meet his brown eyes. “I want this too.”

Nico breaks into a smile so wide you think his skin is going to split.

“I don’t know how to do this either,” you confess. “I don’t know how to get used to you being gone all the time, I don’t know how to have these conversations, I don’t know how to keep myself from falling so fast, but I want to figure out how to do it with you.”

He wipes at the tears under your eyes. “Even if they’re happy tears, I don’t like seeing them in your eyes.”

Once again, that blush that seems to be a permanent fixture on your face makes an appearance.

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer your call earlier. I was being a brat and trying to give you a taste of your own medicine,” you confess, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, too. For letting Luke get in my head and then pouting because you never called me,” he responds, sounding just as guilty as you feel.

“Promise me we won’t be bratty with each other again? I don’t like it, it seems very out of character for us?” you ask, looking up and resting your chin on his chest.

“Promise,” he tells you, staring down at you.

You move your head back, feeling the moment intensify.

“I’m going to kiss you now, okay?” he whispers.

“Okay.”

His lips feel exactly as you imagined, soft and plush, slotting against your bottom lip perfectly.

As you walk backwards, leading him into your apartment, you can feel the sureness of this. How right it feels. How, no matter what comes at the two of you, no matter if it’s something big or a silly little misunderstanding like tonight, you’ll always come out okay on the other end.

He laughs at her eyes, at her smile, at the glasses on her face; She loves how he talks late at night, when there’s no one else to say; How she’s beautiful and funny and smart like nothin’ he’s ever seen; He’s good to her, and she wants it more than everything in-between

“I can’t believe they made us sit through that god-awful play,” you say as Nico unlocks his door. “I mean, the entire thing was in French. I don’t speak French! And neither does Jack! I swear, I love my best friend, I do, but just because she was a French double major in college doesn’t mean everything we do has to be in French.”

Nico chuckles at you, having understood the play quite well. “I told you I could play translator if you wanted me to, but you said no,” he takes off your coat, hanging it on the small set of hooks in his entry way.

“It was more fun to make up my own plot,” you shrug, taking off your shoes and making your way to his couch.

Laughing at you again, Nico makes a pit stop in his kitchen to make both of you a small bowl of ice cream before joining you on the couch.

“You know, I really like it when you wear your glasses, you should wear them more often,” he blurts out, handing you your bowl.

“These bug-eyed things?” you pull a face, earning a real, belly laugh from him. “I’m sorry? Does my face look funny or something?”

He waits until he catches his breath to reply. “Not at all. My beautiful, bug-eyed girlfriend.”

You don’t know why you even buy blush anymore, not ever having to wear any around Nico. “I love that you always say things to give me an ego boost,” you joke.

“I’m being serious,” he responds, the change in his tone confusing you. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You’re the smartest woman I’ve ever met, and the funniest jokester I’ve ever interacted with.”

“You did not just seriously call me a ‘jokester’” you deadpan, ruining the moment.

“Hush, woman, I’m trying to compliment you here,” he lightly scolds, earning a laugh from you. “I’m trying to tell you how much I love you, and you’re caught up on my choice of words.”

You’re stunned to silence. “You…love me?”

“Of course I love you? I’d be crazy not to,” he takes the bowl of half-melted ice cream from your hands and places it on the small table in front of you.

“I’d be crazy not to love you back,” you tell him, sliding your arms around his torso as he crawls over to hover over you.

“Glad neither of us are crazy then,” he whispers onto your lips as he meets them in a kiss.

The kiss is slow and sweet, both of you taking your time savoring one another. You can taste the caramel ice cream on his lips, enhancing his already intoxicating taste.

You think about how hard you’ve fallen for this man. You think you fell for him on your first ‘date’, really, just too scared to say anything until now.

Unknown to you, Nico is thinking the same thing, kicking himself for not telling you sooner.

You also think about how much you love living life with Nico. How he always seems to know how to cheer you up when you’re upset. How he brings you coffee and bagels every morning on his way home from workouts. How he plans double date nights with Jack and your best friend, knowing that you feel like you neglect her sometimes, being too caught up in your life with him.

He treats you better than you’ve ever been treated, not being used to having someone be so attentive and all in as he is.

Nico was the surprise you didn’t know you needed. And while you can’t wait to see where the two of you end up in the future, you love the moments like this, and everything in-between.

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twobluejeans · 1 year ago

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HEARTBREAK ON TOUR!

charles leclerc x famous!reader

summary: in which the lavender haze has been lifted. or in which america’s it couple splits.

part 5: relevancy, part 4: emo ponytail girl, part 3: dupeee, part 2: wtf does ET know?, part 1: don’t start

faceclaim: madison beer

ally’s radio 📻: PART 5! the drama goes on. a lot of tswift references 🫶

INSTAGRAM, july 12

liked by tchalamet, tomholland2013, and 7,456,134 others

yourinstagram. thank u amsterdam for an incredible 2 nights, had so much fun here. also thank u to alyssa and cami who allowed me to post these photos of them on here, great song choice btw💋

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INSTAGRAM, july 13

liked by kaliuchis, landonorris, and 9,555,164 others

yourinstagram you asked for it, we listened: mother and i went back into the studio specifically to record more lana on snow on the beach. love u @honeymoon. it will be a part of the new midnights (til dawn edition) deluxe album that you can preorder now at my online website (link in bio!)

as many of you know, when i released midnights 7 months ago, the original concept was fun, dreamy, n honestly a reflection of how i felt at the time. after going through a rather tragic breakup, i cannot see the album the same anymore because it isn't how i feel. it's not me. i revised the entire project during some free time between tour with some amazing people, and in a way, i'm grateful for that breakup! it inspired two, beautiful songs and an edition of the album that you will all be hearing soon. to make a long story short: my new single you’re losing me will be out midnight, 7/17!

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TWITTER, july 13

INSTAGRAM, july 13

liked by charlesleclerc, lolaxcharles16, and 678,456 others

lolaransdell unapologetic

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y/nslastkiss girl we can tell💀

grapejuicebluesy/n BYEEEE

verstappensainz55 girl u know what ur doing atp

selenagomezfan31 u wanna be her so bad 😭

INSTAGRAM STORIES, july 13

yourinstagram 29m

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yourinstagram 7m

viewed by fernandoalonso, landonorris, and 196,738 others

INSTAGRAM, july 14

liked by sweetcreaturey/n, honeymoonleclerc, and 543,123 others

lolaransdell just an appreciation post 🤍

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charlidamelio i love you both so much!!

lolaleclerc16 you two are so adorable charles is so lucky

lolaransdell lolaleclerc16 i don't know ... I'm feeling like i hit the jackpot a bit more than he did :)

zenday/n lolaransdell definitely not babe 🔥🔥🔥

emmachamerlain my favorite couple i'm living for this

charlesandlolaupdates i still don't know who i wanna be more

lolaforce happy lola is my fave 🤍

daviastylessx you two are so cute 🥲 i'm glad you guys found each other especially after charles’s last relationship

lolaransdell davinastylessx i'm glad we found each other too! he makes me so happy and i try my best to do the same for him. we both have never felt love like this before

charlesforever lolaransdell ^ was that shade?

lolaransdell charlesforver no shade at all ! just being honest :)

TWITTER, july 14

ally’s radio 📻: thus the birth of the revenge era. sorry this was a short chapter, but i couldn’t leave my children starved. next one is better.

taglist 🦢🪩: @incoherenciass@dakotali@405rry@topaz125@sassyheroneckgiant@hevburn@itsmytimetoodream@ivegotparticulartaste@crowdedimagines @asterianax @haydee5010@scenesofobx@christinabae@magical-spit@dessxoxsworld@myareadsbooks@honethatty12@hopefulinlove@diasnohibng@gentlemonsterjennie1@hummusxx@eugene-emt-roe@taestrwbrry @pejarma @cxcewg@chimchimjiminie16@glow-ish@allywthsr @millyswife @mrsmaybank13 @black-swan-blog27

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sweetestcaptainhughes · 3 days ago

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First Last Christmas

Word Count - 17.3k

Summary - Jack is starting to think this isn't his best idea, and Idris is starting to maybe regret her choice. Maybe agreeing so quickly to spend the holidays with her baby daddy who she broke up with 3 months isn't the best idea.

Warnings - none. just some family drama but who doesn't have family drama during the hoildays.

Author's Note: It is finally complete. Thank you for everyone who reads this AU and has been excited for this to come out. Thank you Allie for being my beta reader for a good 75 percent of this fic even though she's on vacation. 🫶🏻🫶🏻 This is the longest fic I have ever written so be kind. Consider this my Christmas present from me to you even if it's a little past midnight. 😂

Till Forever Falls Apart Masterlist

Roughly 2 weeks before Christmas…

Idris could physically feel her hand shaking as she rode up the elevator to her old condo - now known as only Jack’s and Luke’s - and it wasn’t anxiety that also made her cheeks feel flushed, it was anger. Idris was so angry with Jack that she could feel her jaw starting to hurt from how tight she clenched her teeth. She looked down at her phone to see if he thought to answer any of her messages about Christmas only to see a text from him asking her to text him when she was leaving her place with the kids. She found herself shaking her head in disbelief as she exited the elevator making the sharp right turn to walk down the hall to knock on her - she still couldn’t bring herself to think of Jack as anything other than Jack, the word ex made her stomach turn and she couldn’t call him her fiance anymore, she could say baby daddy but that only described the relation he had to their children not the impact he had on her, her heart, her life, so he was just - Jack.

Taking a deep breath she stood in front of apartment 725, trying to make herself calm down even just a little before she faced him, she knocked heavily on the door. Jack answered almost immediately, it’s expected he was expecting her to drop the kids off to him on his day off. But the kids are still over at her little cozy apartment spending time with their Uncle Luke and Uncle Nico, because she needed time to talk to Jack about how he’s been avoiding all of her calls and texts about Christmas.

“Hey guy-” He didn’t finish his greeting that was meant for his children and his smile dropped as his eyebrows frowned ever so slightly when he realized the kids weren’t with her. Idris isn’t sure if it was a conscious act or not, as he slightly boxed himself into the doorway more as if to not let her into his space. Even if it was a place that she decorated herself with him years ago, before Luke even joined the NHL and lived with them, before they ever even fell into their friends with benefits situation, back when Jack was just her guy best friend who she just so happened to meet due to a one night stand. Back when he was 19 and just got his first apartment and Jill was still stocking his fridge when he was due to come back from long roadies. “Where are the kids?” he sighed as he questioned her, as if he didn't have time for whatever she was planning. ‘Too bad’ Idris thought to herself, ‘Christmas is two weeks away and we have two children who believe in Santa. Time to act like an adult.’

“At my place with Luke and Nico. I needed to talk to you and I didn’t want listenin’ ears.” she explained, but she didn’t miss the way that Jack crossed his arms and looked annoyed.

“So that’s why Luke was up so early this morning. Course he just had to run off to help you.” he snapped bitterly and Idris was finding it hard not to yell at him. ‘This is about the kids. Christmas. Kids. Christmas.’ she kept repeating to herself trying to get herself not to be roped into another useless fight with the man in front of her.

“Jack, we both know he’s not doing it for me. He’s doing it because he loves his niece and nephew.” Idris tried reasoning with him. “But that’s not why I came here. Can you let me in? I really don’t want to do this in the hall.” Jack flashed an unreadable expression on his face, something unmistakingly softer than earlier, almost looking like the old Jack for a millisecond and then it was gone as quick as it came, as he stepped aside giving Idris room to step into the apartment.

Idris couldn’t stop herself from word vomiting as she noticed that no decorations were out for Christmas, not even the children’s stockings were hung. “Where is the tree?” she asks as she slips her scarf and gloves, gently placing them in her coat pocket as she places it on the back of the chair, her heeled booties already off by the door looking like they never left beside her children’s and Jack’s array of shoes.

“Didn’t feel like decorating.” he mumbled as he walked past her and sat down on the coach in the living room. “What do you want, Idris?” he asks as he picks back up his controller, Idris was fully prepared to scream thinking he was going to resume his game but was surprised and maybe even a little grateful when she realized he was just turning it off.

“Well even if you don’t you “feel like it.” Zander is old enough to notice Jack.” she tries to speak softly, so it doesn’t come off as judgmental as she wants to be. Although her words still have a sharpness to them. “We need to talk about Christmas. You haven’t answered a single of the hundreds of texts I’ve sent trying to plan with you.” Idris adds, as she is reminded of the reason she came over in the first place, ‘the kids. Christmas.’

“Well maybe I didn’t feel like decorating this year.” he snaps, it isn’t harsh, kind of like how he snaps at the media when they repeat a question or ask something that isn’t logical, like the time they said ‘Quinn was like a brother to Jack.’ when he is in fact Jack’s older brother. But still, even if it wasn’t harsh, a little over a year ago, he would never even think to give her attitude when she’s just trying to be a good mom to their kids. “Also I liked the message Iddy. I got the toy alright.” he huffs, and it takes everything in Idris not to scream at the man sitting in front of her, manspreading, arms crossed, as if she is wasting his time.

“That’s not the point and you know it. Cool you got a toy off the internet congrats on doing the absolute bare minimum. For god sakes you haven’t even decorated Jack! Christmas is literally 2 weeks away! What the hell! I thought we agreed that the kids' happiness came first! And that includes Christmas. Do you think I wanted to decorate by my fucking self this year! No. Do you think I want to be standing here begging for you to look at me so we can talk about where our children are spending Christmas! No. I much rather be curled in bed with Luna doing nothing but here I am. Here I am! I am trying to co-parent with you! But how can I when you don’t answer any of my texts or calls trying to talk about what we're gonna do!” Idris yells, she doesn’t feel better, she feels like shit, she always does when she’s fighting with Jack, as if he is a vacuum that sucks all the energy out of her. She’s also close to tears, but Idris has always been one of those people that cry when she’s so angry she can barely think coherently. She looks at Jack from across the room and waits, waits for him to care enough to answer her.

“I’m off for Christmas break, I thought the answer was obvious. I’m taking ‘em home to the lakehouse.” Whether it’s because Jack is speaking softly or the drumming in Idris’ ears is too loud from the anger she feels, she looks at him with disbelief.

“What?” she breaths out.

“Imma take ‘em home, Idris. You had them for Thanksgiving. It’s only fair I have them for Christmas.” Jack is standing now as if he’s preparing for a fight with her, but she can’t bring herself to fight, her body is in shock. Jack might have been an asshole and maybe that’s why she left, but he was never cruel and taking her children away from her on Christmas was cruel.

“I took them to Ann Arbour for the long weekend to spend time with my family. I drove to the lakehouse 2 ½ hours away both ways so they could see their Uncle Quinn, your brother Jack. Then not even 30 hours later, I made the drive again so they could see you and Luke on Sunday. And spend time with you on the day you were free from hockey. Then I drove home alone” her voice cracked, she wished it hadn’t but it did and a dam of tears started streaming down her face like a hurricane banging on a screen door in the summer night. Suddenly Jack’s stomach started to hurt and his socks looked much more interesting than Iddy’s face. “I drove home alone. Crying because of you! Because your words you had with me about not being there sooner with them! About how I was trying to ruin the holidays. So no.” Idris took a deep breath using her hands to speak as she made air quotes as she spoke “ I didn’t ‘get them for thanksgiving’ I shared them with you, and your family even if you weren’t there. I tried to be fair, and mind you I did it without talking to you because you refused to just like you are now. I know that you hate me for leaving, and I can live with that. But what I can’t live with is battling against me every goddamn fucking day because you’re not adult enough to have a fucking conversation about what’s best the kids. Because you know who you’re hurting when you do that Jack?” she asks him and Jack glances up from his feet feeling like he’s being scolded by his mother, deciding that it was probably a rhetorical question. “You might think it’s me, but it’s our kids. Zander doesn't understand why his mama and daddy live apart now. Zola who adores her father and who still is her favorite person, and she might be little but she isn’t stupid, she can feel the tension when we’re in the same room. If you want to spend your Christmas break at home fine but I am not spending Christmas without my kids.” Idris’ feels a migraine starting to brew with the amount of stress she is having, as she glances at the family room clock and realizes she’s been here for 10 minutes and nothing productive has been done. She runs her hands through her hair, its shorter now since she cut it, shaking it out and pulling at it, as if pulling on her scalp will lessen the stress.

“So you wanna stay here?” the confusion is clear in his voice, she doesn’t have to look at him to know that.

“No.” She exhales, looking up making eye-contact with him, his blue eyes boring into hers, it doesn’t matter the history when he looks at her at that all dumbfounded and confused like only she can bring him out of it, it makes her knees go weak. “We’re always home for Christmas. It’s just harder now.”

“Because you left.” He mumbles to himself.

“Actually not what I was thinking, more like Zander believes in Santa and all gifts for everyone and the kids have been shipped here. And how are we gonna get all the kids gifts in 2 checked bags, plus their strollers, and diapers and everything else they need for traveling. Let alone the fact we have Apollo and Luna now, and checking them into the animal hotel was fine for Thanksgiving but the kiddos missed them and cried about it all week.”

The more Idris talks, the more it’s obvious how much thought she has actually put into this, and Jack feels guilty for causing her so much anxiety knowing that if he just wasn’t so stubborn they could have figured this out around Thanksgiving and not waited till 2 weeks before. Plus, if Jack was being honest with himself, he would have procrastinated even longer having this conversation with Iddy if she didn’t just show up on his doorstep and force him to talk. He was still so mad at her for leaving, he knew they were in a bad place, but he didn’t know it was that bad. Idris settles on the couch opposite of Jack and puts her hands on her head, leaning forward resting her elbows on her knees and Jack flinches; she only does that when she’s starting to get a migraine which she only gets because of stress. Stress that Jack caused and that doesn’t sit right with him.

Jack's mouth slightly twitches, his palms getting slightly sweaty as he squeezes his knees with them and fights internally with himself. If this was even 10 weeks ago, he would walk over to her and hold her and tell her everything was gonna be okay. But that was before, and even though he knew he was only lying to himself to make himself feel better, he hasn’t done that in almost a year, holding her when she got too stressed out. Most of the time he just blamed her for working too much, or putting herself in the position she was in. “Fuck it” he mumbles to himself as he gets up and goes in front of Iddy, sitting on his knees as softly calls her name grabbing her hands as they are in little balls now and he knows she’s using her nails to put pressure on them, sighing when he sees all the little bright red half moon imprints. “Idz.” he whispers, a nickname only he uses, he hasn’t used it in months but he hopes it helps bring her out of her head and back to him.

“Idz, I’m sorry,” he speaks softly, and he grins when she finally looks at him. “You’re right I haven’t been good at communicating when it comes to the kids and it is selfish of me. And I knew it was stressing you out and I didn’t care. I’m sorry Idz.” His hand twitched in hers, he wanted to bring her palms up to his lips and softly kiss each mark she inflicted on herself but he didn’t wanna push it. She was letting him hold her hand, after he was a dick for weeks to her, simply for choosing herself. He settled on rubbing small circles with his thumbs into her hands. “Comeon’ Idz let’s look at a calendar ya?” He asks he still won’t speak above a whisper, he doesn’t want to shout anymore, he’s tired and he wants to finish planning so he can go pick up his kids and play with them before he has to drop them back off at Iddys because he has a 6 am morning skate time tomorrow due to being a game day.

“Why that still doesn’t answer the question of where?” She squeaks out, and his heart hurts that she doesn’t get that they can go to Michigan and be home.

“Iddy we’ve always gone home and that doesn’t have to change okay? I’ll drive up with all the presents if I have to alright?”

“What about Apollo and Luna, you know she doesn’t like car rides or the plane but I don’t wanna leave her.” Jack resists the urge to take his thumb and pull at her bottom lip she’s chewing on, he hates when she chews on her lip as cute as it might look, because she never stops until it chewed raw, usually bleeding.

“We can take Luna to the vet to get medicine to help with the car ride alright? And I can take them in the car. okay?” He’s not really asking if he can take them more if she has any questions about his plan so far.

“Okay but where in Michigan.”

“At home Idz.” He doesn’t have to say it, she knows there are only two places he calls home in Michigan, his moms and dads house he spent a few teenage years in, and the lakehouse he owned with Quinn. They have always hosted Christmas at the lakehouse for as long as they’ve owned it.

“That doesn’t answer where I will stay? I don’t want to be away from the kids when they wake up on Christmas Day. This is the first year Zander is starting to understand the concept of Santa, I don’t wanna miss his face when he sees all the presents under the tree and all the cookies he laid out gone.”

Jack chuckles, not because of her reasoning but because he can see Zander screaming his head off Christmas morning. It takes everything in him not to let his pet name for her slip, his heart aches, its moments like this he wishes they were still together, but if they were together they wouldn’t be debating where to spend Christmas. “You can stay at the house, Iddy, it’s as much yours as it is mine or Quinn’s. I mean you were there when we picked it out, there when we signed for it, definitely was the one in charge of furnishing it.”

She made a face as she asked “isn’t that weird?”

“Who cares if it’s weird? When have we ever been normal?” he chuckles trying to break the tension that was still left in the air.

“What most people don’t have two kids with a one night stand?” Iddy asks sarcastically and they both laugh, the mood finally lightening up for the first time since she arrived.

So it was settled Idris would be spending Christmas week at the lakehouse, she would fly in with the kids the Friday before Christmas out of Newark airport where Jack dropped them off. She will first drive to her parents and spend the night hanging out there so they can see their grandchildren they don’t see enough of. Idris and the kiddos will spend the night at her sister's little townhouse, because she didn’t think she would want to drive the 2 ½ hours to the lakehouse that late. If she was by herself she wouldn’t care, but she really tried hard to keep the kids on their routine when they were with her and that included bathed and in bed by 7. The next day they’ll drive up to the lake house where they will spend a few days alone before Jack arrives Monday night with Apollo and Luna with him. Luke and the rest of the family already decided not to arrive until Christmas Eve, Luke even brought his plane ticket already and they will spend Christmas together. It seemed simple enough, what could go wrong? At least they had a plan now.

After talking everything out, Idris felt much better, they even talked about the kids' gifts and who was getting what, what was Santa’s and what was from them. They both agreed the kids were too little and it was too petty to separate the gifts they gave their children ‘from daddy’ or ‘from mama.’ Everything that wasn’t Santa came from them as a unit, even if they didn’t work together all that well.

“Wait.” she gasps as Jack starts to stand, but if Idris says wait he will, even if his body is in an awkward position half standing, half bent over. Jack can’t help but think that this position probably isn’t good for his shoulder since he’s putting all his weight on it. But he didn’t care, if it earned him brownie points with Idris. She softly pulled him down to the position he was before and he was grateful he didn’t have to feel the tension in his shoulder anymore. “I don’t want to get to the house 3 days before Christmas and have to decorate yet another house for Christmas.” Usually they decorated together the weekend after Thanksgiving. If they were up there, his mom would always come and help Iddy since Jack never had much time in the mist of the season. But at least that way they never had to stress over it when they were only up there for Christmas break for a few days.

“Why don’t I ask my mom for help?” he asks, normally he would just tell her he was going to ask his mom. But now with the separation, everything felt off on its axis like he needed permission before he offered a solution. She didn’t reject it right away so Jack took it as an invitation to keep going, “she loves decorating for Christmas Idz, I’m sure her and dad can run up and put the tree together and everything before you and the kids get there.”

“That’s a lot to ask of them.” She’s biting her lip again and Jack bites his as a response, ‘please stop baby, you're gonna make yourself bleed.’ But it’s not his place anymore to say that even if it makes him sick watching her do it and not saying anything.

Jack sighs, he knows they wouldn’t mind, they would be happy to help. But he also knows the way Iddy grew up wasn’t the way he did, and every favor even if it was a family member came at a price to her. Jack, no matter how hard he tried over the years could never get that out of her head. “You know they would do anything for you.” He says as he looks into her eyes, grateful she’s finally making eye-contact with him. He could have said ‘for the kids’ or ‘for me’ but he knew it held more weight if he said the truth. Decorating was going to ease Iddys to-do list, not his and the kids honestly probably wouldn’t care they are still so little. But it matters to Idris for some reason to make this Christmas perfect, so he was gonna try his damn hardest to help her. She nods a ‘okay’ and Jack smiles, probably for the first time in days except after he scored a goal last night and had a celly on the ice.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Friday December 20,2024

It should be easy enough, flying with the kids by herself. Idris didn’t think it would be difficult, it’s not the first time either of them have been on a plane. She has flown with both of them with Jack plenty of times, even all the way to Vancouver once to visit Quinn. She even flew without him with the kids over Thanksgiving and that is the busiest time of year to travel. Thankfully, she didn’t have to lug too much around just enough stuff for them for night and a few winter items for the kids that she knew weren't in the lakehouse due to their fast growing bodies. It was fine in the beginning, Zander was in that phase where he loved being a helper, but it made a turn for the worse quickly. Jack had decided that he didn’t want to just drop them at the door, but help her check in, even though she had carried even more by herself less than a month ago. But she didn’t want to bicker when he was trying to be nice. Zander wanted to help so Jack let him ‘push’ one of the suitcases, really Jack was pushing it with his foot, sometimes grabbing it to steer. Zander didn’t seem to notice, focused on the task at hand, pushing the suitcase across the parking garage floor. It was cute how happy her son was at his father’s compliments. “Good job Z. Keep going buddy.” Idris was busy wearing the diaper backpack bag, holding Zola, and the carrier in her other hand that she decided she didn’t need to wear yet. She was pushing her carry-on suitcase with her hand following behind Jack who had both car seats (because all though it isn’t a rule, Idris will be damned if her kids aren’t secure 35,000 feet in the air.)

At one point Zander got distracted by the sound of a car coming down the ramp, it was a loud high pitch sound, he never did like loud sounds, he jumped he would have hit his hand on the handle of the suitcase if Jack’s hand wasn’t there. “I scared.” Zander mumbled, as he looked up at his dad and decided to hang on to his leg. Idris could tell that he was pulling at Jack, trying to get him to open his legs more so Zander could attempt to hide himself in them. The car skeeted past them and it took everything in Jack not to yell at them for being an asshole and scaring his kid. “Daddy?” Zander whined, and it hurt him. He hated seeing his kids upset even if it was something as simple as getting spooked by a loud sound. He could hear Idris behind him, trying to calm a fussy Zola who also didn’t appreciate the unexpected noise.

Jack squatted to the ground to be eye-level with his son, gently putting each car seat down, using his knee to keep the giant suitcase from rolling away. Zander didn’t wait to be comforted, he jumped into his arms and Jack embraced him cooing in his ear that it was alright. Idris was suddenly grateful that Jack insisted on dropping them off three hours ahead of time instead of the normal two, because they haven’t even made it out of the parking garage and they’ve been here almost 20 minutes. Zander wanted his mom to carry him once he was calm and as much as she wanted to explain she couldn’t, she didn’t. Instead she handed Zola to Jack and stripped herself of the backpack and her winter coat momentarily to put to strap her carrier on. Then she put back on her winter coat, grabbed Zola and set her inside. Then gently, bending down she put the backpack on and picked Zander up and balanced him on her hip. Jack stared at her, as if this was the hottest thing she had ever done in front of him. He knew no one else probably found it attractive, but watching Idris be a mom always made the pit of his stomach warm, at least he wasn’t sporting a semi in public due to his baby-mama he wasn’t even with he thought to himself.

“Ready?” she breathes out. Jack knows it’s directed at her, but his throat feels dry with where his mind was going as he was watching her, so he just nods. Picking up both bulky car seats, he tries to push the carry-on suitcase with his leg which he is successful. But he can’t really steer as well as he thought he could. ‘Maybe it was good Zander was helping him’ he thought to himself. “J I got it.” grabbing the suitcase and rolling it on her side, Jack wasn’t sure how she was able to push both suitcases, and hold both kids.

Somehow it was smooth sailing from there, Jack stayed until Idris was done checking in, bags checked. The bag she was originally going to use as a carry-on she decided to check because she didn’t want to lug another thing around if she didn’t have to. Zander decided he could stand now and wanted to be a helper so Idris let him hold her phone. He was honestly too little to carry a car-seat or wear the diaper bag, and although he has carried Zola before it wasn’t for long distances, they are practically the same size after all.

Saying goodbye to Jack was weird, not for the kids, they were fine. But this was the first time they have really said a goodbye before one of them takes off in an airplane while they aren’t together. Both of them don’t seem to know what to do with that piece of information, Jack switching the weight back and forth between his feet to help ease his nerves. Iddy with her bottom lip between her teeth, it was finally Zander who broke the awkwardness with his question from below them. “Daddy, why not come?” he asks, he doesn’t seem upset more than anything curious. Jack bends down and explains he has a few more games, and then he promises he will come and he’s even gonna bring Apollo and Luna with him. Zander gasps at the news, a look of excitement in his eyes at the fact the family dog and cat were gonna be there for Christmas. “When?” he asks.

“4 sleeps buddy.” As he pulls his son in for another hug, kissing the top of his head. Idris stomach twist, in a good way, she knew Jack was always good with kids. But seeing Jack being good with their kids, made something stir in her she hasn’t felt in a while. She takes a deep breath, pushing down whatever feelings were trying to crawl their way up. Jack puts his forehead against Zanders, like he always does before they are going to be separated. “Make sure you listen to Mama okay?”

“Okie daddy.” he stretches and moves away, his attention span has never been long even compared to other two-year olds. Zander holds onto Idris' hand as Jack stands and puts his hand on Zola’s head, leans down and gives her another kiss.

“Bye-bye Zozo.” he coos. He smiles when she babbles back at him mixed in with “da-da” Finally he steps back and looks at Idris, he wants to step into her space, to hug her, kiss her goodbye even if it’s just on the cheek. But he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable, so he stands back grasping the back of his neck, he can feel the slight sweat on his skin. “Uhh Iddy. Call me when you land okay." She steps forward and hugs him unprompted and he suddenly doesn’t have any breath in his lungs. He just closes his eyes and wraps an arm around her, the other reaching down to pet Zanders head. Jack could stand there all day despite having a game tonight, hell he could stand there forever if she’d let him. He breathed in finally, enjoying the scent of her shampoo, the smell of baby powder from Zola, he was holding his whole family for the first time in months and he will be damned if he ends it first.

Jack isn’t sure how long they stood there, time always escapes him when Iddy is in his arms. Finally she looks at him “you’ll be doin’ your pre-game napping when we land.” It takes Jack a second for his brain to catch up, of course leave it to Iddy to go right back to conversation like that wasn’t the first time he had her in his arms in months.

“Doesn’t matter.” he doesn’t leave room for debate, but he knows she will have something to say so he adds, “you and our kids are about to be on a plane without me, I will be lucky if I can even get my heart to stop pounding so fast, so I could sleep before I know you’re safe Idz.” He doesn’t look away, and neither does she, both trying to read what the other person is thinking. Neither of them giving the other even a slight clue, ‘when did I stop being able to read her every thought’ he thought to himself.

“Okay.” she nodded at him, putting the car seats on the shitty airport trolly an airline employee offered. Idris was busy, making sure Zander was holding onto the side of the cart and then she turned and left. Jack stood there to see if she would turn around and wave before she got onto the escalator she didn’t. But at least Jack could be happy that his son did, waving bye to his dad as he yelled something Jack couldn’t hear but knew it was some sort of goodbye.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunday December 22nd:

Jack had practice this morning but he didn’t care, just went through the motions. He missed his kids, he missed Iddy, but missing them isn’t new, being away from them due to his hockey schedule isn’t new. He missed most of Zander's firsts - from being a newborn baby to about 8 months old - due to hockey. Jack knew the all too familiar feeling of missing his family, having fomo was his villain origin story at this point. The only thing that was new was the fact that he was home and they weren’t. It always fucked with him the most the nights where they were with Idris and not him. But at least for the most part they tried to switch off every other night. Jack knows that when he wakes up he’ll see his kids that morning or that afternoon picking them up from daycare. But this, them being home and him being in Jersey, it was torture, it felt like something was nawwing at his skin from the inside, and no matter what he did he couldn’t get the restless feeling out of his head or off his skin.

The only good news he had was that tomorrow night right after the game he was gone. Jack would leave directly from the rock to the lakehouse if he could tomorrow. But he has to pick up Apollo and Luna from his place first. The little fact that he will be with his kids and Idris under the same roof after tomorrow night is the only thing keeping him from not screaming from the endless restlessness he was feeling.

“You seem tense.” Nico observes and normally Jack would appreciate his captain and one of his best friends on the team checking on him. But right now he didn’t want to talk, he wanted to skip his shower and get dressed as quick as possible and go home. Jack wanted to pack the car so it was ready for tomorrow, he wanted to get gas so he didn’t have to stop tomorrow night, he wanted to FaceTime Idris and talk to her and his kids. Even though he knew she wasn’t going to talk to him, she would always answer though so he could talk to Zander and Zola.

“I’m fine.” He mumbles, Jack didn’t even try to hide the little bit of annoyance in his voice.

“Dude you don’t seem fine. Is everything okay at home?” Nico whispers the last part, he knows Jack doesn’t want people knowing about his life. Even though every single person on the team, coaches, medical staff and hell even the social media team knows Idris and him are living apart. But that doesn’t mean they know all the inner personal details of the day-to-day baby-mama drama. Even Nico doesn’t want their shit aired out for the gossip groups of the Rock.

“Not in the mood to talk.” Jack mumbles as he throws a pair of sweats on. Jack knows he’s going to regret not showering as soon as he’s home, but at least if he’s home he can take a real shower, maybe if he stands under the hot water long enough - the water hot enough to feel like it’s slightly burning - he’ll be able to think about anything else besides Idris hugging him in the airport and how good it felt to have her in his arms again every time he closes his eyes.

“Come on man. Keeping that shit in isn’t gonna help you.” Nico is poking, he wants Jack to talk, but Jack doesn’t wanna talk to him.

He’s still pissed at Nico for babysitting his kids with his brother so Idris could come yell at him about Christmas. Nico also last week took his kids out for hot chocolate when Idris couldn’t pick them up on time from daycare on time due to a meeting running late. Jack can’t be pissed at Idris for not calling him, not trusting him enough to help her out when he was perfectly available. Not when he couldn’t stop thinking about the butterflies she gave him in his stomach when he wrapped her arms around him. Or the fact that he has been a dick to her since they separated, he made Luke their mediator in everything revolving around Idris for the first two weeks, including pick-up and drop-offs. But he can be pissed at Nico and he will be. Even if Jack knows Nico would never make a move on Idris, he knows they are like siblings, he also knows Idris would never go after one of his teammates even if they are separated. But the idea of Idris choosing another man over him, Jack’s always been the jealous type, ‘territorial like a pitbull’ is what his high school girlfriend called it.

“I know you miss ‘em Jack, it’s normal you know. I miss my fam-”

Jack cuts him off, he turns his head to Nico’s cubby and in a second he’s in his face screaming at him. “You don’t know shit Nico. This isn’t me missing my mommy or sister. I miss my kids who are 1000 miles away from me right now! You can’t even keep a girl long enough to have a kid. So you latch onto mine? How could you possibly know what I’m feelin’!” he yells. Luke and Jesper are pulling him away from Nico, Jack doesn’t know what happened, one second he was fine the next he was attacking. Jack really doesn’t know what happened, sure he might have been mad at Nico, but to try to attack him? He has always had a slight anger problem but usually it was just when shit didn’t go his way on the ice. The last couple weeks though he’s been snapping at everyone.

“Bro chill.” he hears Luke in his ear, he tries to shove him off but Luke doesn’t let him, using his long arms to his advantage wrapping Jack in them as he pulls them to the other side of the locker room towards Luke’s bench. “You can be angry but you can’t take that shit out on anyone but yourself.” Luke mumbles softly, Jack knows if they were home he’d be louder, but Luke represents him too much as his older brother to air out his business out in the locker room. Or maybe it was Idris or the kids that made Luke stay quiet, whatever it was Jack was thanking the heavens as he felt himself calm down. Most of the people in the locker room had left to shower, or at least pretended to not listen and watch Jack’s breakdown in front of them.

Luke was holding him in his arms not letting him move until he forced his body to calm down. It must have taken longer than Jack thought to calm down because next time Jack looked up he noticed all the guys were gone, it was just Luke and himself in the room. He’s not sure where 10 men that are over 6 '0 ft tall and over 200 lbs went in 30 seconds but he’s grateful to be alone with his brother because he’s about to cry and at least Luke won’t think of him as pathetic as he felt for it. Luke lets go of his brother and Jack takes a step forward and then turns around so he’s facing Luke. Jack doesn’t wanna look up and see whatever emotion Luke is displaying on his face; disappointment, anger, sympathy. Although Jack doubts Luke feels any sympathy for Jack, he’s seen most of the shit go down between Idris and himself. Jack wouldn’t feel sympathy if he was in Luke’s shoes. Jack stares at his shoes, his dirty white sneakers he keeps here to wear before games. He must have slipped on the wrong pair of shoes when he was too in his head earlier. “It’s just eh” he tries to start, he clears his throat before he tries again. “This is the longest I’ve ever been away from my kids unless I was on a roadie.”

“I know.” he says, Luke’s tone is neutral, but his voice sounds annoyed. Jack knows his brother isn’t annoyed, he really has no emotion behind his words, and that’s how Jack knows he’s getting fed up with his shit.

“And Apollo all he does is cry at the door waiting for them to come home, and Luna won’t even glance my way like I’ve personally wounded her by taking her back to our place for a few days. It’s one thing to miss them, it’s another thing to have to watch how even our pets miss them.” Jack sniffles, he didn’t want to cry in front of Luke. He’s done a lot of that lately but he can’t help it, he misses them so much his chest physically hurts.

“You are going to see them tomorrow night Jacky.” Luke tried to reason as he took a step towards his brother.

“Yeah but by the time I get there, the kids will be asleep and probably Idris too. Plus I’ll have to crawl into a cold bed since Iddy’s stayin’ in the guest room.” he complains.

“Not to sound like a dick but who’s fault is it that you're even separated in the first place? And don’t say Iddy cause she’s the one who had the balls to leave cause maybe you don’t remember but I do live with you Jack. I know you're my big brother and I will always root for you, I will always look up to you in some way. But you can't seriously be mad at anyone else for where you’re standing.”

Jack didn’t have a response for his little brother, but he’s never felt like a shitter older brother. Big brothers were supposed to set examples, be a role model, they were supposed to give the “get your shit together” talk to their little brothers, not the other way around. Jack is tired of Luke calling him out lately, but he doesn’t say it, he just sighs and glances up finally. Jack thinks he might be even more tired of seeing that expression on Luke’s face. The one where he’s disappointed but also looks like someone who has no shock in their body, like it was expected for Jack to yell and try to fight Nico, as if it was expected for Luke to have pull him off, or even expected for Jack to try to reason his actions with shitty excuses he knew held no weight.

Jack just wants it to be tomorrow night so at least he can block everything out and just drive, drive until he finally feels at ease for the first time in days because he will be with his family, his kids, his Idz.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

Monday, December 23 ~ 2 days till Christmas:

Idris was tired, she loved her kids, but not talking to another adult since Saturday morning when she left her sister’s was starting to weigh on her. Of course, she’s messaged Jack here and there when he’s asked for updates, texted her sister off and on. But an actual conversation, not since Saturday and she was starting to go a little stir crazy because of it.

“MAMA.” Zander screamed from the family room, thankfully because of the open floorplan she didn’t have to move from the stove to answer his calls.

“Yeah Z baby” she calls. “I’m in the kitchen bubs.” she calls out to him. Immediately she hears the pitter patter of his feet hitting the floor as he runs to her.

“When's daddy comin’?” he asks as he slams his entire body weight into her legs, immediately trying to climb up her legs while he waits for an answer.. Thankfully she is normal for him constantly running into her and climbing her or Jack, it’s like his body constantly has to be in movement. Ellen swears that Jack was the same way, - and although she always wished to have a ‘mini - Jack’ when she was pregnant with Zander, she wishes she was more specific with the universe, she meant looks and not his restless energy and sass - Idris hopes that he starts to calm as he gets older and not more energetic because she doesn't know how she will survive the ‘horrible threes’ if he is even more of a ball of energy.

“Honey I’m cooking lunch, do you want up?” she asks her son, glancing away from the grilled cheese she’s making for Zander and Zola to share. Zander continues to pull on the side of her hoodie, the bottoms of his feet pushing her calves trying to continue to climb her.

“Yeah.” he finally huffs, Iddy barely bends down as she scoops her son up and sits him on the counter next to the stove so he can watch as she cooks.

“It’s hot, Zander. No touching anything or you’ll have to get down." She gently reminds her son, but she’s not sure if he even knows that she is talking to him. Immediately jumping back into why he came to find his mom anyway.

“When's daddy comin?” Frowning his eyebrows as he has to repeat his question from earlier.

“Soon baby. Tomorrow. Daddy has one more game he has to play sweetheart.” Iddy says gently, not sure how he will respond, as she removes the pan from the hot burner and turns the stovetop off.

“I wanna watch,” he says, although ‘watch’ comes out more as ‘wash.’ Iddy can’t help but smile at how he pronounces some words, still learning how to perfect some of his sounds.

“Okay. It starts in about an hour I think. First lunch, then we can watch Daddy.” Idris starts to silently pray to the powers above that no one slams into Jack today, like they did the last time Idris let Zander watch one of his dads games a few weeks ago. She really doesn’t want Zander to get scared again like last time, he was so scared until he saw Jack and with him driving here tonight, she couldn’t imagine having an anxious Zander until the middle of the night.

“FaceTime Daddy and ukle ‘uky.” he asks, Idris grins Zander also hasn’t perfected his ‘L’ sound yet. Idris turns to the 2 kid plates behind her that have some fruit on them and cuts the grilled cheese into 4 pieces and gives Zander 2 pieces and Zola’s plate one to start.

“I’ll have to see if he’s available honey”, as she microwaves the leftover broccoli in the microwave from the night before she planned to add it to the kids lunch to make it a little more balanced.

Pulling out her phone, as she walks back over to Zander texting Jack to ask if he has time before the game for a FaceTime. Glancing at the clock she knows the players are probably getting dressed for warm-ups right now or even on the ice for warmups already. Iddy helps her son get down from the counter and helps him settle into a chair at the kitchen table with his food. She sits Zola’s plate in front of her, as she drags Zola and her high-chair closer to the table.

“Daddy first.” Zander demands, and Idris sighs as she is about to tell her son Jack hasn’t answered her yet but she’s saved by her phone ringing.

Idris answers the phone, setting it up so it’s promoted in front of Zander. The first thing Jack hears as it finally connects is “Zander you still have to eat while talking to daddy.” Jack grins as he sees his son on the screen, head turned slightly no doubt pouting at Iddy.

“I don’t wan’ broccoli.” he fusses.

“Zander.” Jack calls his attention, it’s the first time Zander or Idris address that he’s on the phone. Idris is suddenly glad she’s off camera because she’s pretty sure her breath catches at the sight of Jack. He is sitting in his cubby, the phone titled so all you can see is the collar of his jersey and head, his hair damp and messy probably from him running his hands through it too much, his jawline perfectly on display. “Are you listening to Mama?” he asks.

Zander looks like a deer caught in headlights, pouting slightly at the fact his dad is calling him out on his behavior. “Bb-but mama’s broccoli isn’t as good as yours.” he mumbles, arms crossed, looking down at his lap as he tells his dad why in his 2-year-old logic he is right. Iddy can’t help but roll her eyes because what her son really means is that she doesn’t smother it in butter and cheese.

“I’m sure Mama made you more than broccoli Z.” he reasons. But Zander doesn’t respond verbally, just shoves a piece of grilled cheese in his mouth.

“Daddy you comin’ soon?” he asks mouth full and all, shifting in his chair, suddenly on his knees so he can bend closer to the screen.

“Yeah I’ll be there tomorrow when you wake up.” Jack answers.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah.”

“You get a goal fa me.” Zander asks, Jack can hear Iddy chuckle close by in the background even if he can’t see her, and it makes his chest warm.

“I’ll try bubs.” he promises. Jack looks off the camera and bites his lip, probably contemplating how to say bye to his son so quick. “I gotta go Z.” he softly says.

“You always have to go.” Zander whines and his pout deepens.

Jack doesn’t know what to say, he’s glad Idris is close by and can take over. “Z, he can’t score you a goal if he doesn’t go warm-up. Coach will be mad, Daddy might get in trouble and not be able to play.” Idris tries explaining, and although it’s a little dramatic Jack wouldn’t probably get benched if he skipped warm-ups he would definitely get chewed out by more than one person.

“And how is he gonna score you a goal from the bench baby?” she asks their son.

After another minute or so, Zander says “okie. Bye daddy. Good ‘uck.” he smiles at his dad. ‘Gosh toddlers and their big emotions,’ Jack thought to himself, as he told Zander bye and that he loves him and how he will see him soon.

Iddy was able to finish feeding both kids and settle into the coach just in time to turn on the game. Zander is two so his attention span isn’t long enough to pay attention to a whole game. But when Jack gets the first goal 5 minutes into the game, Zander can’t help but scream jumping up and down, “Daddy scored! Daddy scored.” Idris shyly pulls out her phone to take a video of her son’s little celly in the family room, and sends it to Jack to see after the game.

It’s even more of a reaction when Jack gets a second goal, with an assist by Luke. Idris was never into hockey before she met Jack, but now her favorite part about watching hockey is watching her son react to it. They watched Jack get ‘star of the game’ and his interview after in the locker room. The one thing that stuck out to Idris about the interview was when he was asked about his celly. The reporter said he looked like he was trying to sign a ‘z’ in the air after both goals and wanted to know if he knew ASL.

Jack has the biggest smile on his face, as he lightly chuckles, “no, not well. My kid Zander probably knows more than me.” Everyone laughs at that. “His name starts with a ‘z’ and before the game he asked if i could score him a goal so uh… I guess it was my way of saying hi.” Jack is slightly blushing now, he doesn’t talk about his kids often, he doesn’t post them, but everytime he does mention them he has nothing but adoration in his eyes.

The reporter follows up with, “After the second you signed ‘z’ twice, why the difference, was it on purpose?”

“Wow you were really watching me eh?” he jokes. “Do I need to file a report for a stalker?.” After a pause he laughs and goes “ I’m messing with you.Yeah it was on purpose, my second born is named Zola, and we call her Zozo a lot. So I guess it was my way of saying hi to her. Although she is under 2, she probably didn’t make the connection, despite also knowing more ASL than I do.” Everyone laughs after that, and Iddy loses focus as she is consumed in her thoughts about what Jack just revealed,

Zander ends up FaceTiming with Jack one more time as Jack is sitting in the car in his apartment’s garage about to leave. Idris thinks it’s kind of cute watching how Zander can barely hold her phone as he marches around the house updating him on his thoughts of the Rangers game today.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bedtime was surprisingly easy at first, until Zander said he was scared to sleep in his big kid bed by himself. In a way, it can be understandable since they made the switch to a floor bed for him, she can’t remember if he ever actually has slept in it yet. Plus the one at both Jack’s and her place are the exact same, even the same frame, since originally one of them was brought for the lake house. But when they split they ended up using the frame for Idris’ apartment. Then, when she finally remembered they didn’t have one for the house in Michigan and she tried to go back and buy the same frame for a third time - because Zander has a very hard time with transition and change, she knew it was best if everything was the same - they were sold out.

Then if she takes into account how this weekend went, Friday night they co-slept at her sisters, Saturday was a bad sleep for both Zander and Zola so they spent the whole night with Iddy in bed. Finally last night, Iddy was too tired from the night before. She didn’t care where they slept as long as they slept so she could sleep.

She bends down so she’s on his level when she speaks to him. “Okay, I understand sleeping in a new place by yourself. It can be scary huh?” phrasing her statement as a question on purpose. Zander mumbles something as a sort of agreement, nodding his head as well. “Okay, well why don’t we lay down together for a little while?” she asks, with the plan of getting up and going to her own bed for the night once he’s asleep.

As soon, Zola realized her mama was staying in the room and giving snuggles to her brother, she demanded attention. Standing up in her crib, babbling away, Iddy knows it doesn’t mean anything but also knows if she had the words she would be cursing Iddy out. This leads to all three of them cuddling in Zander’s bed.

Jack arrived around 2 am, and he’s never been more grateful to be at his destination. Even with the medicine they got from the vet, Luna cried almost the entire twelve-hour car ride. Plus, anytime Apollo saw anything remotely interesting he barked, Jack didn’t know a dog could find so many interesting things. The worst part was that Jack couldn’t even drown them out with music, he tried but it only made them louder, around the eighth hour he gave up entirely.

Jack didn’t want to park in the garage since he knew the sound would probably wake the kids up, which would wake up Idris. The last thing he wanted was a pissed off Idris because he was being “lazy about walking a couple more steps.” Jack shakes off the memory of her saying that last year to him, and steps out of the car stretching after so many hours.

After letting Apollo use the bathroom, he grabs the cat carrier and the three of them start to make it inside. Jack kind of expected them to run off when they got inside, which they did. The part that kind of took him off guard after using the bathroom, and slowly making his way up the stairs to the kids room to check on them was to find Apollo and Luna already half sleep on the bed with all three of them; Zander, Zola, and Idris. Slowly he made his way out and stopped in the closet bedroom beside his own which happened to be Luke’s and grabbed the comforter. Quietly he made his way inside and laid the blanket on top of them, he was just about to leave when he heard his son, “daddy?” he calls out, and Jack silently curses that he woke up his kid.

Turning around and getting on his knees again he whispers, “yeah buddy?”

“Daddy home!” he says in his normal voice, which Jack hushes over.

“Gotta be quiet Z. Mama and sissy are sleeping.” he whispers. “Plus Apollo and Luna.” glancing down at the end of the bed where Apollo is curled up, Luna not far from him.

His son gasps in surprise, “ah, it’s like a sleepover.” Zander says, ‘sleepover’ it’s the word they use when they are trying to explain to their barely 2-year-old how cool it is to have a sleepover with ‘just mama’ or ‘just daddy.’ It definitely wasn’t the best explanation, and although Idris and Jack realize that in hindsight there isn’t much anyone can do.

“Yeah, a big sleepover.” Jack whispers, a slight sad grin on his face as he pets his son’s hair, dipping down to forehead to give him a kiss. “Goodnight. Love you.” Jack goes to get up, but Zander grabs his arm and stops him.

“Want daddy cuddles,” he whispers.

“Z, you have mama cuddles right now we can cuddle tomorrow.” he promises. As much as he would love to go to sleep with his family, he doesn’t want Iddy to wake up uncomfortable. A part of him knows that’s pushing the limit too far, too fast, and he doesn’t want her pulling away even more than she already has. Hell, they didn’t even sleep in the same bed the last six months they were together, Jack definitely knows it’s some kind of crossed boundary if he crawls into bed.

“Daddy. Sleepover too” Zander is doing that thing, what twitter calls “famous Hughes pout” Jack thinks. Jack really meant no, but he also knows if he says no again, Zander will probably stop whispering which will definitely wake Iddy and Zola up then Idris will definitely be mad at him.

“Okay.” he says, pulling the comforter up and laying next to his son, thankfully they got a full size bed but as Jack lays down he’s thinking they should have gotten a queen.

“One big sleepover.” Zander mumbles into his neck, content to be between both of his parents. Jack rationalizes his decision by telling himself that it’s the lesser of two evils. If he said ‘no’ Zander was going to wake up the entire house and Iddy would be pissed. But if he crawls into bed, Iddy might be upset that he crossed a boundary even if he was pressured into crossing it. Jack tells himself that either way Iddy will be upset, but dealing with an angry ‘got 8 hours of sleep Iddy is a lot easier to stomach, plus he gets to cuddle with his son, so basically it’s a no brainer to Jack.

“Yeah bud, one big sleepover.” he mumbles as he drifts off to sleep.

Tuesday December 24, 2024

Idris is the first one to wake up, she feels that Zola has moved she’s no longer laying down tucked into her side and immediately she’s up ‘mama bear’ fully activated. Thankfully she’s just at the end of the bed playing with Luna, and even if she wasn’t in the bed, the bed is on the ground so she wouldn’t get hurt if she climbed off of it. Realizing her daughter is safe, she takes a deep breath, her heart rate slowly coming back to a normal pace, until she turns her head and sees Jack and Zander curled up together.

Idris truly doesn’t know what she feels except anger at the fact that Jack just decided to crawl into bed with them last night. But, she also reminds herself that it’s Christmas and she doesn’t want to fight with him and ruin Christmas for her kids. Gently she removes the comforter that Jack must have brought in for them and climbs to the end of the bed where Zo is. “Good morning princess.” she coos, “why don’t we let the boys sleep and go make some breakfast? Are you hungry Zozo?”

All Zola does in response is giggle and clap her hands. Iddy decides that’s good enough and scoops her up as she stands, both Apollo and Luna following them out hoping to get an early breakfast. Idris goes downstairs, lets Apollo out, and makes a morning milk for Zola. Idris goes ahead and puts Zola in the playpen in the family room while she moves around the kitchen feeding both animals, and making her morning cup of coffee. She’s happy she’s at the lakehouse and can indulge on Quinn’s fancy espresso machine.

As she opens the fridge she hears baby feet stomping down the stairs and hears Zander walk slowly into the kitchen. He has his baby blanket in one hand, his hair an absolute mess as he nudges in Iddy’s leg who is still in front of the open fridge looking for what to make for breakfast.

Iddy’s hand goes to the mess of curls on top of his head. “Morning Z.” She greets him still not looking at him yet. Zander makes some kind of groaning sound as an answer, never been a morning person just like Jack he needs to ease into his day.

“I was gonna make breakfast, do you wanna stay in here or go lay down on the coach and watch cartoons with sissy?” she asks him softly, finally looking down at him.

Zander seems to really think about the offer before he says “cartoons. but first morn’ kisses .” The sleep is still evident in his voice. She scoops him up and carries him to the family room, turning on the TV and putting some random cartoon on. Gently she goes to put Zander down the coach, kissing his cheeks super fast to give him his “morning kisses.”

By the time she goes to the kitchen to make breakfast and feeds both kiddos Zander has decided he’s wide awake and ready to go wake up Jack. Glancing at the clock and seeing it’s barely quarter after 7. “Z, you can’t go wake up Daddy, he came in late last night, he needs to sleep.”

Before Zander can respond they hear rustling from upstairs, and Zander runs to the bottom of the stairs and even opens the baby gate before Idris can catch him. Thankfully he still likes to crawl up the stairs and he didn’t have to crawl far since Jack met him halfway.

Jack picks him up and lightly tosses him in the air, Zander squeals in happiness as Jack walks them into the kitchen.

“I didn’t make you breakfast, I didn’t think you would be awake yet.” Idris says standing at the kitchen island not even looking up from her phone. Idris knew she was being petty but she also couldn’t bring herself to care. Jack last night did what he always does ‘whatever he wants’ with no regard to how other people would feel about his actions.

He sets Zander down, who immediately runs off to the family room to play with Zola. Jack walks around the counter to meet Idris, facing her he says quietly. “It’s okay. I’m sorry about last night.” Jack gently raises his hand from resting on the counter, as if he’s debating if he wants to reach out and touch Idris' arm.

“We can talk about it later.”

Jack started to explain himself anyway “It was Zander he-“

Idris snaps quietly at him, “That’s real rich Jack, always blaming someone else, even your 2-year-old son. And I said we can talk about it later when the kids aren’t 20 feet away.”

No one else is set to arrive until around 5 tonight even Jack’s parents, as much as they love their son and adore their grandchildren and Idris. They all decided - more like Luke warned them about how bad it’s been with the bitterness and overall pettiness - it would be best if they came later because they know they are less likely to fight if they don’t have anyone to distract the kids, well they hoped.

Thankfully both of the kiddos were pretty much on the same nap schedule so they both went down around 10 am. Jack gulped his body suddenly tense as he exited the kids room with Idris. He really wished it was one of those days where he joined the kiddos for naptime just so he didn’t have to go downstairs and fight with Idris.

Idris grabbed the baby monitor on her way out of the room, slowly making her way down the hall and down the stairs. Jack followed behind like a child who knew he was about to get scolded or a dog with his tail between his legs looking down, nervous about what’s about to come next. He followed her all the way to the kitchen before she turned around and gave him a look as if to say ‘what the fuck Jack?’

“Idz, let me explain.” He speaks gently, raising his hands up as if he’s already surrounded by raising the white flag. Jack thinks if he goes on using her nickname, it will soften her, possibly maybe a little.

It does not go the way Jack was hoping for, “Don’t Hughes.” she grits out of her teeth. ‘Fuck she’s more pissed than I thought’ Jack thinks to himself. “Don’t call me that when I’m pissed at you, it isn’t going to help you.”

“I’m sorry I am. But Zander woke up when I came to check with the kids, and he asked for snuggles. I told him that you were already cuddling with him. But he was insistent, okay? And I hadn’t seen them in a few days plus I knew if I said no he would probably throw a tantrum and he would wake you and Zo up. Okay. So I decided it was the best option. I know you probably think I crossed some kind of line with where we are at. But I’m not sorry for giving into Zander, even if it made you pissed at me.” Jack explains as he watches her expression soften which Jack is grateful for.

“You did cross a boundary. I only accidentally fell asleep in Zanders bed with them. I was trying to get him to not co-sleep for the first time in days and I ended up falling asleep with them.” Iddy turns her head slightly, and stares off a little looking deep in thought. Jack really wants to step into her space, he wants to gently grab her chin and force her to look at him, he wants to force her to tell him what she’s thinking.Even though he knows it’s technically not his place anymore, he still wants to. But he doesn't, he just chews the inside of his mouth giving his mind something else to concentrate on. After a minute or so, she turns to him, “let’s unpack the car while the kids are asleep.”

They work in silence bringing everything in and hiding them in the basement closet they know the kids will never open. They even build the mini stick goal in complete silence, it would impress others watching two people work in that degree of harmony without speaking. Although, Jack thought to himself about how it was only like this because of everything that’s happened. For better or worse, they learned how to work in silence long before Idris left and it wasn’t because they were so comfortable with each other. It was because Jack was so angry that anytime he spoke to Idris they yelled, and Idris stopped trying to beg Jack to try, so they learned how to work together, raise two kids without even speaking for almost 10 months.

—---------------------------------------------------------

Once the kids wake up from their naps the pair seems to be able to find their voices again as if nothing happened during the kids naps. They spend the rest of the day playing with the kids, letting Zander run the show in how they spent the day. From playing mini sticks, to playing outside on the playset or jumping on the ground level trampoline.

Around 3 though Idris reminded Zander that they still needed to bake cookies to leave out for Santa tonight. Zander loves baking with his mom, so he was content with not playing outside anymore and instead drinking hot chocolate and baking cookies with his mom. Zola is a little young at 19 months to care about baking, so Jack and her play in the family room.

The house is filled with giggles from both kids, Christmas music playing lightly in the background, the Christmas lights glowing from the tree and the smell of sugar cookies baking in the oven. While the cookies were baking they decided to throw a Christmas movie on and of course because Zander is Jack’s son he picked ‘Home Alone’ to watch. Jack reminds himself to enjoy this, enjoy that they are snuggled all together on the couch watching his favorite Christmas movie with no tension. While Idris is hoping that the lightness in the air can stay until after tomorrow night but she has a feeling in the back of her mind that it probably won’t.

—--------------------------------------------------------

“Mama look.” Zander demands, as he displays one of his finished sugar cookie decorated with so many globs of icing and sprinkles, she already knows she’s going to make Jack eat that one tonight.

“Wow baby. It’s beautiful.” she smiles wide at him.

She sees in the corner of her eye chuckling as Zola sits well more stands in his lap. Zola didn’t seem to understand the concept of decorating the cookie, as she had icing all of her hands and face giggling, she was signing for ‘more.’

“No.” Idris says, signing ‘no’ as well, to which Zola starts aggressively signing ‘more.’ Jack can’t help but laugh as Idris signs inresponse ‘no. all done. All done.” Idris doesn’t even speak because she knows she doesn’t have to for Zola to understand what she’s saying. Zola tries to reach for the plate to grab another cookie but Zander beats her.

“Mama said all done Zola. These are for Santa” in the most serious voice a 2-year-old can have. Jack just laughs at the fact that not only did Zander also cut off his little sister, but how he did it, even as Zola turns to him, grabbing onto him fussing thinking he will give into her.

“Not this time Zozo. I know cookies taste good though.” she whispers as he rubs her back, and comforts her, even if he’s still laughing with Idris about Zander cutting her off.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

As everyone arrives the house becomes a loud, energetic place. Zander convinced both his uncles and Grandpa to play mini sticks with him, which Idris didn’t even realize they had that many mini sticks at the lakehouse. Of course, none of them are the mini sticks Zander asked Santa for Christmas. Ever since he learned that his dad was getting a custom mini stick from Bauer Hockey, he asked Santa for his own which would have been easy for Jack to ask for. But no, Zander didn’t like that it said J.Hughes on it, since his nickname wasn’t ‘J’ it was ‘Z.’ So he wanted it to say Z.Hughes. Thankfully, Jack was able to convince them to make two custom mini sticks, and even put them in the black mystery paper for him, if he put it on his instagram story Christmas Day.

While the boys were all busy playing mini sticks with the kids, Ellen and Idris were in the kitchen. As Idris pours both Ellen and herself a glass of wine, she hears Ellen ask her if she’s okay.

“What?” she asks in a daze, maybe she didn’t hear Ellen right.

“Are you okay honey? I know I’m Jack’s mom but, you can still talk to me you know. Although, I was never a single mom per say, Jim was gone so much when the boys were little sometimes it felt like I was. I know you have your mom who was a single mom you can go to for advice but I just wanted-.”

“Ellen.” Iddy cuts her off, gently setting both wine glasses down. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m fine really.” Ellen gives Idris a look as if she knows that Idris is full of it, but doesn’t push, just nods her head. Before either of them can speak they hear a high pitched cry and Apollo barking loudly from the family room and both of them take off.

Idris runs into the family room to see Zander holding his arm, fully crying in Jack’s arms. As soon as he sees Idris, he no longer wants Jack, only his mom, a true mama's boy. As Idris kneels down to her son, he slams into her body. “Shh. it’s alright. What happened, love?” she asks her son as he forces himself as close as humanly possible to her his high pitch screaming not lessening.

“What happened?” Ellen asks the men in the room in that voice you never want to hear from your mother no matter how old you are.

“He got hit with a puck.” Luke mumbles as he picks up Zola so she doesn’t get too close to the young parents while they try to calm down their son.

“A foam one right?” Ellen asks.

“No.” Jim answers.

“What?” Idris asks the adults around her, refusing to look at Jack.

“We couldn’t find any foam ones, so we thought we would use an outside hockey puck. I told them to be careful but Zander is so jumpy, I guess when Quinn shot the puck, he moved at the last minute and it hit him.” Jim explains.

“It was an accident.” Jack mumbles as Zander is finally just sniffling. “Hi lil’ man.” he whispers to his son, who has barely left the comfort of his mothers arms, ever so slightly tilting his head to see his dad.

“The good news is that it can’t be broken, Quinn didn’t shot it that hard.” Luke comments, and then immediately shut up when he was met with glares from everyone else in the room.

Quinn bends down to Zander, “hey buddy I’m so sorry.” Jack can tell that Quinn feels like shit for it, but he doesn’t care he hurt his son all he wants to do is punch Quinn in the face a couple times.

“Iz otay.” Zander whispers and Quinn sadly smiles back at his nephew. After Idris and Jack both looked over Zander’s arm without his long sleeve shirt on in the bathroom, they knew he was just gonna have a nasty bruise but that was about it.

The Hughes family has this tradition that Idris has just decided to roll with when it comes to Christmas Eve dinner. Idris grew up in a family where they had to dress up and all the aunties, uncles, and grandparents came over. The expectation for you to be on your best behavior in your best Sunday clothes which were also usually the mist itchy clothes. The Hughes were the complete opposite, every year they ordered pizza in and just bumped out on the coaches watching movies.

So that’s what they did, Zander didn’t leave Idris’ arms and neither did Zola. Both of the babies are perfectly content in their moms arms and no one else's. It was kind of a pain for Idris to help both of the kiddos eat when they were so physically attached to her. But anytime Jack tried to help by peeling one of them off, they whined and batted his hand away. Everyone could tell it hurt Jack’s feelings, his dad slapping his shoulder almost trying to comfort him.

Sometime during the movie, Zola fell asleep. It was somewhere in the middle of ‘The Elf’ where Buddy is decorating the apartment and eating maple syrup pasta for breakfast that Idris’ phone buzzes. Gently she grabs it out of her pocket and sees that it’s her boss calling her, immediately she gently removes the limbs of her Zander off of her getting up and handing a sleeping Zola to Ellen on her way out the family room.

“Hello.” she answers the phone, standing in the hallway that leads to the stairs going upstairs.

“Hey glad I caught you. Remember that client Samson that wanted that painting for his wife for Christmas?” he asks sounding rushed.

“You mean for her birthday?” Idris asks kindly trying not to come out and tell her boss he’s wrong.

“Yeah yeah same thing anyway, the artist finally agreed to the price today at 500k.”

“Wow, that's great, I know Samson will be happy.”

“Well that’s the problem,” after a pause her boss continues “that’s kind of why I’m calling.”

“What?” she doesn’t try to hide her anxiety.

“Well Samson has apparently decided that it’s not worth 500k and the artist barely agreed to that price so I need you to convince Samson it’s worth it.” he explains as if it’s just a regular Tuesday morning in the office.

“On Christmas Eve?” she asks.

“Yeah. It’s one phone call " Iddy come on.” sounding like it’s not a big deal at all.

“Okay.”

“Perfect. But he can’t do it tonight, it’s going to be the day after tomorrow around 2 pm. I’ll tell Sarah, my new secretary, to email them to you.”

Idris can’t help but joke, “what happened to Kennedy?” she chuckles, knowing it’s an on-going joke that the only woman who can stand working for him is her because he doesn’t hit on her.

“Didn’t work out. Anyway Merry Christmas. Send the kiddos my love. Jack too.”

“Haha, very funny William.” sounding as sarcastic as possible as she hangs up the phone.

Before she can even put her phone back in her hoodie’s pocket, she jumps up at the sound of Jack behind her. “Seriously Idris. You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Jesus Jack you scared me. What are you even talking about?” Idris doesn’t bother hiding the tiredness in her voice, it’s been a long day and it will be an even longer.

“You left watching a movie with your family on Christmas Eve to gossip with William.” his arms are crossed in that way where it’s not because he’s annoyed, his jaw slightly clenched.

“Zola is asleep. Zander was half asleep when I left. So yes I stepped out to take a phone call when it’s a movie I have seen no less than a 100 times.” Idris was matching Jack’s annoyed expression not in the mood for whatever she knows he’s about to imply.

“That’s not the point.” slightly raising his voice, it doesn’t go unnoticed to Idris that someone in the family room turns up the volume of the movie.

“Then what is Jack?” she asks.

“The fucking point is that it’s always him. It’s like he has this power over you even if your kids aren’t above it!” He’s now screaming and any chance Idris had of not also raising her voice is over.

“That’s not even close to the truth and you fucking know it! I’m not sure what the fuck you’re trying to imply Jack but it’s wrong!”

“So you don’t care more about your career than you do us!” he yells at her.

“No! I don’t. But the same argument could be made for you, Mr.hotshot hockey player!”

“You don’t seem to mind about my hockey player money.” he retorts back, he has that smirk on his face like when someone knows an insult they just spit out sticks.

“Oh my god! Were not even together and were having the same fucking fight! It’s insane!” she yells storming out of the hall to climb the stairs two at a time, but Jack is apparently not done.

“So that’s it?” he yells at her as they climb the stairs.

“Yeah that’s fucking it Jack! You know I’m done, you know I love my job just like you do. You know I love being a mom. But you also know I was hesitant to come here, but I love being a mom so bad I decided to spend my first Christmas single in years with my ex-boyfriend and his family so my kids can have both their parents for Christmas. So don’t tell me I put anything above those babies again asshole.” Idris turns to walk down the hall to the guest room she’s been staying in.

“Ex-fiance. Not boyfriend.” he can’t help but point out, it’s like a sickness, the way even when she hasn’t been his for almost 3 full months he still needs to stake his claim to her.

“God of course that’s what you got out of that.” she mumbles as she slams the door behind her.

Jack makes his way back downstairs, kind of surprised that Zola stayed asleep during that, she’s still snuggled up on his moms chest. Zander has since climbed into Quinn’s lap for cuddles, it doesn’t really surprise anyone he is becoming the favorite uncle whenever he’s around. “Don’t” he mumbles as he falls into the coach where Idris was sitting, Luke next to him.

“Oh bro. I wasn’t planning on it. That’s what mom and dad are for.” he whispers as a response.

“Daddy?” Zander asks from Quinn’s lap.

“Yeah Z.” he asks, trying to hide how angry he is from his son.

“Where's mama?”

“She has a headache bubs, so she went to bed early.”

“Oh” is all he responds with leaning back into his uncles chest.

“You always have been a shit liar.” Luke mumbles which earns a slap in the back of his head from Jack.

After a couple minutes, Jack can see that Zander and Quinn are whispering amongst themselves not really watching the ending of the movie. If Jack took an honest survey of the room no one was really watching the movie, as if everyone was on edge waiting for the next shoe to drop.

Zander slowly shimmies his way off of his uncle's lap and goes to make his exit. “Where are ya headed Z?” Jack asks.

“To give mama snuggles. Like she does to me when I feel sick.” he tells his dad before he’s off dragging the same baby blanket he left on the coach this morning back upstairs with him.

“Well I think we're headed to bed as well.” Jim announces.

“I can put Zola to bed Ma, hand her over” Jack offers but is waved off as she stands and they leave the room.

After a couple minutes of the brothers sitting in silence Quinn’s the one to break it. “I know you guys are separated, but it must be a new low for your son to comfort Idris when you're the one who made her upset.”

“Will you shut-up you hurt my kid tonight I outta kill you.” Jack grinds between his teeth.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Idris hears a knock on her door and decides to ignore it knowing it’s probably Ellen or one of Jack’s brothers coming to check on her. “I’m fine” she groans back, turning away from the door. She can hear it click open and says “Luke I’m really not in the mood.”

“Mama” she hears Zander say and suddenly she’s sitting fully up starring at her son at the side of the bed.

“Hi honey. Is your arm feeling better?” she asks.

“Yeah. Daddy said you your head hurts.” he mumbles softly as if not to speak too loud to hurt your imaginary headache anymore than it already would be and Idris heart melts at the gesture.

“Yeah, just a little. I’ll be okay.” reaching out to gently push the baby curls out of his eyes, suddenly thinking about the fact he needs a haircut.

“Want snuggles? Like when I’m hurt you give snuggles” he asks shyly looking up at his mom.

“Always from you baby. Come ‘ere” As she picks him up and climbs under the covers with him enjoying her son cuddling with her.

Jack went to check on the kids around 1 am when Idris and he agreed to meet downstairs to play Santa. When he peaked in he only saw Zola in her crib. ‘Z must still be with Idris.’ he thinks to himself. Idris doesn’t come down to help but who can blame her, he was kind of dick to her. So Jack carries up all the gifts by himself and puts them under the tree including the new goal and Zolas new walker toy. He eats all the cookies, even Zanders very very sugary ones and the carrots too, only leaving the stumps.

Finally as he lays down he hears Zola crying. Sometimes she still needs a diaper changed in the middle of the night. Slowly he gets up and walks across the hall to the nursery to see Zola standing in her crib crying. “Hey Zozo.” he greets her as he flicks the light on and walks across the room.

Zola did need a diaper changed, but once she did that she was still crying Jack wasn’t sure what was wrong and then signed for ‘mother.’ Idris was coming into the nursery anyway after hearing Zola not calming down. “Mama” she stretches, physically trying to get out of Jack’s arms and into hers.

It hurt Jack more than he cared to admit, Zola was always a ‘daddy’s girl’ literally from the moment she came out of Idris. There were so many times when she was young that only he could calm her down, she really only ever wanted Idris if she was hungry as a newborn.

“Hi honey.” she coos and immediately she stops crying. Idris walks over to her crib and grabs a pacifier. Zola glady takes it and leans her head on Idris’ shoulder. Jack stands off to the side feeling like chopped liver. As Idris tries to put her back in her crib she gets fussy again.

“Okay okay. I get it. It must be scary sleeping alone. I don’t think you’ve ever done that before huh? Zander is already in my bed, wanna sleep with mama and brother tonight?” she asks in a soft voice that one would only use for a baby or small animal.

Jack feels like shit still standing in the middle of the room, as Idris walks out the room carrying a very content Zola. All he can think about is how that’s the third time today his kids have picked Idris over him, and the second time tonight Zola specifically has. Jack never thought he would be jealous because his kids are giving more attention to Idris but he is, and that’s all he can think about as he attempts to fall asleep.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

Wednesday December 25, 2024 - Christmas Day

Idris woke up to Zander shaking her awake, Idris has never seen him so excited in the morning, she grabs her phone and looks at the time 5:45 AM.

“Santa came! COME ON MA.” He screams physically trying to pull her up. A very big contrast to how be is every other day of the year, but Iddy finds it cute.

“Zander. Shhh. People are sleeping.” As she helps Zola out of bed, and lets her walk just holding her hand. Idris thinks it’s kind of amazing how kids wobble and then all of a sudden one day they can walk and talk like it’s nothing.

“Santa came Zo! Come on, move faster.” Zander starts pleading with his little sister to move faster.

Iddy can see how flustered Zander is becoming at how ‘slow’ Zola is walking down the hall,scared he might try to drag her down the stairs himself soon. So she suggests “Z honey why don’t you go wake up Daddy and we’ll meet you downstairs.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, sprinting down the hall screaming for Jack to wake up. Idris can hear a yelp from Jack from the stairs and can only imagine where Zander jumped him awake.

Idris makes it down the family room, at the exact moment she hears Zander running down the stairs. His yelling must have woken everyone up, because behind Jack are both his brothers and his parents and Apollo bringing up the rear.

Everyone lets the kids open their gifts all at once from Santa, it’s kind of heartwarming seeing how happy they both are. Apollo has decided to bring the wrapping paper to Jim who’s holding the trash bag.

“Apollo. Are the kids too messy for you?” Iddy jokes and all he does is use his nose to nudge her leg as he passes her with another ball of wrapping paper in his mouth.

Quinn laughing asks “did you guys teach him to do that?”

“No” Jack breathes out in between his own laughing fit.

Once the kids were done everyone opened their gifts from everyone all at once. Except for the gifts that Zander and Zola (Zander to be honest) picked out for everyone. Zander loved passing out his gifts - some might have been homemade - but Jack’s and Iddy’s were not. He stood in front of his dad practically blocking the view as he opened his gift. Now when Idris took Zander out shopping for his dad, she did not stir him in any sort of direction; she truly gave him free range to pick whatever ‘he’ wanted his dad to have. This is how Jack ended up opening a bag of pretzels and a pink beanie. In his defense, pretzels are Jack’s favorite snack (might also be his, so there might be a conflict of interest but Iddy didn’t say anything). The bright pink beanie was because “daddy only wears boring colors and pink is a fun color.” The beanie also has a tacky flamingo stitched on the front but Jack loves it anyway and puts it on right away.

Now when Jack took Zander out he did not go with the ‘free range method.’ Now Jack did let Zander wrap it, Idris is pretty sure he used at least 2 rolls of tape alone because she had to use scissors to cut out the box. When she opened the box she found a new pair of knee high leather boots to replace her old pair. Nothing was wrong with her old pair but when she had Zola her feet grew in size and never went back down. She loved her knee high boots and was really sad she had to donate them. Even over a year later she hadn’t really found the time to replace that exact pair of other boots she could wear instead. But to see the exact pair, down to the brand and even the little pattern stitched in the heel made her gasp.

“Do you like them mommy?” Zander asked unsure since she hadn’t spoken immediately.

“I love them, baby. Thank you.” she whispers and as she hugs Zander she makes eye-contact with Jack who's across the room sitting in a chair with that dumb pink beanie on. She mouths ‘thank you’ to him and he blushes, quickly looking away.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Surprisingly to everyone, the day was turning out to be pretty good. After presents, Idris, Quinn and Ellen made a huge breakfast for everyone. Everybody sat around the dining room table (the kitchen table not comfortable to fit everyone plus the kiddos) and ate. The meal was great, it was like the tension from last night was gone. After breakfast everyone sort of migrated to the family room, lounging around doing nothing, some Christmas movie on in the background no one was really watching. Quinn even made a comment to Luke about how he’s gonna win the fight since it was already 4 pm without Jack and Idris getting into a fight. All Luke said was “I don’t know about that big brother.” as he walked away stealing the last cinnamon roll on Quinn’s plate he had just warmed up as a snack, going to chase after Zander with his new nerf gun.

Idris was in the kitchen, finishing cleaning the dishes she was feeling too lazy to clean right after breakfast. Idris was enjoying the quiet around the loudness that was the Hughes family Christmas. As she was washing the last pan that had the cinnamon rolls in them she heard someone come behind her but didn’t think anything of it until she heard Jack’s voice.

“Hey” he softly says.

“Hey yourself.” she answers awkwardly, not really sure what Jack was looking for, maybe he wanted to hear thank you the present Idris thought to herself. Putting the pan in the drying rack and wiping her hands with a dish towel she turns“Thank you by the way for the boots.”

Jack babbles out a quiet “yeah no problem.” his cheeks were just slightly more pink than they were when he came in. “Uh, can we talk?” he asks, scratching the back of his neck a nervous tic he’s never been able to grow out of.

“About?” she asks confused about what Jack could possibly be thinking about.

Somehow her answer must of satisfied Jack because he walks more into the kitchen standing directly in front of Idris leaning against the island, while she’s still in front of the sink. “Look about last night.”

“What is there to talk about?” Idris doesn’t mean to sound as defensive as she does. But how many times can you have the same fight with someone before there is nothing left to add to the conversation.

“Uh like about how you disappeared in the middle of the movie to talk to a precious boss who constantly calls you when he knows you are home spending time with the kids.” he might not have meant to scold her but that’s what it sounded like.

“Oh my god Jack. I can’t believe you are coming in here and instead of apologizing you are just bringing up again how mad that I took one phone call about work. You act as if someone from the devils called you, you wouldn’t have taken it.”

“I wouldn’t.”

Idris is nothing less than baffled at how Jack is acting right now. “That’s such bullshit and you know it.” Idris starts to walk around the kitchen as if she needed to give herself as much physical space from Jack as possible.

“It’s not.” he defends himself before he adds, “Did you answer just because it was him?” The way he says ‘him’ Idris immediately knows what’s really bothering him, it’s not that she got up during the movie or even that she took a work call. No, Jack was mad because he was jealous.

“Oh my god!” she sighs. “I can’t believe this. You’re mad at me because you're jealous.” she accuses Jack, but it comes out more as a statement - as if it was already confirmed as a fact - rather than an assumption.

“I am not.” he snaps at her, his voice starting to get ever so slightly higher, as he walks around the island to be on the same side as her again.

“You fucking are Jack! God I can’t believe this! We are literally again having the same fight and we are not even together anymore!” feeling so frustrated that she is starting to yell, running her hands through her hair as if it will ease some of the anger she is feeling inside.

“God I am not. I’m mad that you prioritize work over our family!”

“Bullshit. Fucking bullshit and you fucking know it!” she yells, not thinking about who else is in the house, or the fact that Zander and Zola are in the next room. “God that is so rich coming from you! How much of Zander's first 9 months of life did you miss? How much of me being pregant with Zola were you just.. gone Jack? Playing hockey?”

“I was providing for this family!” he yells, his blue eyes as dark as the deep sea filled with his anger.

“I never said that you weren’t! What I am saying is that you can’t say that you also don’t work a lot of hours and are away a lot from the kids! You can’t sit there and point a finger at me when three are p[ointing back Jack! I’m done having this conversation with you. Whether you're jealous. Not jealous. I don’t care we’re broken up so there is no reason for you to feel some type of way. Or for you to come in here and yell at me.” Idris turns to walk away and leave the kitchen but stops at Jack's words.

“Are you fucking him?” he asks. Idris is frozen and she is astonished at his accuration of her character.

“What?” she asks as she turns around, truly believing she heard him wrong because her Jack would never ask her such a thing or think that somehow she could be sleeping with her boss.

“You heard me.” he snapped, stepping closer to her. “Are you dropping your panties anywhere you can for him like you use to for me?” his words spitting venom.

“Fuck you.” Idris says she walks away just trying to get upstairs as far away from Jack as she possibly can because her watery eyes become full blown tears.

Jack follows her, apparently not done with fighting with her. Dispute the fact that it feels like his words somehow felt worse than a bullet to the chest. “What no answer Iddy?” he asks.

Idris was going to ignore him until she heard her son. “STOP.” he yells at Jack jumping in front of him kicking and punching him as hard as he could. “ALL YOU DO IS HURT MAMA. I HATE YOU.”

Idris can’t walk away from her son even if a tiny part of her loves him for it. She comes up behind him, picking him up from under his armpits and carrying him away somewhere. “Zander no. We do not hit people and we do not tell them you hate them.” Idris starts to talk carrying him up the stairs, still an angry ball of limbs yelling.

“I DO HATE HIM. I DO”

“We don’t use that word in this house.” they can hear Idris says before they hear a door shut upstairs.

Jack doesn’t move, he doesn’t say anything he’s frozen in place. Jack doesn’t even know where Zander learned that word, and it breaks his heart. His own kid, the one thing he loves the most in this world hates him? Jack knew that he preferred Idris over him, which was fine. But to hate him, to want him to leave. Jack was gonna be sick, he felt this deep need to throw up.

“I-I I need some air.” he chokes out to his family standing around the hall and family room. Jack runs out of room to the back deck, he doesn’t stop moving until he’s leaning over the railing emptying his stomach of everything he ate in the last 12 hours.

“Here.” Quinn says to Luke, handing him a 100 dollar bill.

“Keep it. I don’t want it.” Luke mumbles climbing up the stairs, whether to go hide his room or check on Idris and Zander no one is sure.

“I’ll go check on him.” Quinn says it at the same time Jim says “Imma check on Jack.” But Ellen stops both of them, gently touching both of them on the shoulder.

“No, I got it. Why don’t you guys finish the movie?” She doesn’t give them any room for debate; they settle back into the coach.

Ellen slowly opens the sliding glass door now in her boots and winter coat, along with a blanket she must have grabbed on her way out. Jack turns around to the sound of the door, Ellen can see his red rimmed eyes from crying, his blue eyes the lightest of shades it always is when he cries. “I don’t wanna talk.” he mumbles turning back out to look at the lake, he can’t see much because it’s so dark out but he tries anyway.

“Okay, that’s fine. I'll tell you to listen.” she says in that tone only mothers can use on their sons, as she drapes the blanket over his shoulders. “He doesn’t hate you, you know that right Jacky?” she asks gently.

“Uff. Could have fooled me.” he mumbles.

“Jack, he's two. He doesn’t even know how to spell his name, he doesn’t understand what he’s saying.” she tries to gently let Jack see the truth.

“I don’t know Ma, he never wants me anymore. Even when he’s at home with me he’s asking for Idris. I knew he was a mama’s boy and I was okay with that but he hates me. All he seems to do is fight me on every little thing. Honestly I’ve been a shit father, I would probably hate me too if I was him."He still hasn’t looked at his mom, he’s just word vomiting as he leans against the railing of the deck and stares out to the land and the lake.

“I’m gonna tell you a secret. It’s a secret every parent figures out at some point and no one tells anyone about parenthood. A child is their meanest self with the person they love the most. He loves you Jack, adores you even. All he does is want to be like you. And you know what you are?” she asks, he turns to her giving her look. “You are the biggest mama’s boy there is. Where do you think he learned how to be one? Or the fact that he wants to play center ‘cause my daddy does.’ The boy loves you. He just is little. And yeah kids bounce back, but you have to remember that you and Iddy being apart is also a very big change for Zander. And that boy doesn't like change. Kind of like someone else I know.” She gives him a pointed look.

“Who me?” he jokes for the first time since she got out on the deck.

As they turn to head back inside she says “just think of it this way.. It’s like a right of passage for your kid saying they hate you. Well except usually it’s during the teenage years..” She jokes as Jack wraps his arm around her side giving her a hug.

“Can I just say one thing?”

“What?” Ellen asks.

“This is definitely the worst Christmas.” Jack admits.

“Yeah well Christmas joy is overrated. Why do you think we did more to celebrate Hanukkah while you were growing up?” Both of them laugh and head inside, Jack does feel better after he talks with his mom. Maybe it is true what they say, you are never too old for a mom talk and a hug.

#till forever falls apart #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #jack hughes fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #hughes imagine #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes x oc #jack hughes x y/n #new jersey devils fanfic #dad!jack hughes #dad!jack

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heliads · 1 year ago

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Can I pretty please request Carlos Sainz x reader where she’s rly shy and gets worried that maybe he wants someone more outgoing but he tells her he loves her any way she is? Your writing is amazing 🫶🏻

anon i love you wholeheartedly please let me speak on carlos

masterlist

You are not who you are supposed to be. There are qualifications for being the girlfriend of a Formula One driver, you’re sure of it, probably even a style guide somewhere if you only bothered to look it up. Perfect hair. Clean makeup. Pretty, but doesn’t try too hard. Willing to give up their whole life to follow one man on mad jaunts across the planet. Wherever your guidebook is, though, you must have lost it long ago, because you have absolutely no idea what you’re doing, and worst of all, it’s starting to show.

You never should have gotten into this position in the first place. That isn’t to say that you hate it, far from it; dating Carlos Sainz is the best thing that ever happened to you, making you the happiest wrong person at the right time to ever exist. In every other universe, he’s probably seeing models or actresses, but here, he has you, and you’re willing to fight off every multiversal version of you just to keep everything as it is right now.

Your butterfly effect was quite stunning, actually. You ended up getting tickets to a Grand Prix through last minute cancellations. They were great, came with paddock passes and all that, and while you were lingering through Ferrari hospitality, Carlos happened to drop by to visit a friend and he noticed you while you were in line to get some water. He’s got the confidence of, well, a world class athlete, an adrenaline junkie, a professional race car driver, and so he introduced himself.

Sometimes, it’s just as easy as that. A father’s cousin’s roommate buys two tickets to a Grand Prix, then a stranger’s roommate’s brother gets sick, and suddenly you’re touching down off a plane overseas and walking through the door of paddock hospitality. You wear red, and you are seen. Just like that.

It took one more weekend before either of you knew that you wanted what you had to last for good. He texted you, followed you on Instagram and blew his cover of seeming cool by accidentally liking a post of yours from six years ago. And, when he saw you again, he knew that he wanted the spark between you to be something more, something like a bonfire.

Coincidence may have supported you thus far, but you don’t trust it not to abandon you. At the end of the day, you are you, you are Y/N L/N, and you are so far removed from Carlos’ world that it stuns you to think that you were even in his orbit so long as to meet him. If there are powers that be somewhere in the universe, they’re either playing a cruel joke or messing around to give you a helping hand.

Hopefully, it’ll be the latter, but truly who knows at this point. As if it wasn’t surreal enough to introduce Carlos to your friends and family as Carlos Sainz, Formula One driver. As if it doesn’t blow your minds that people have started making Instagram accounts just dedicated to posting photos of you and your boyfriend whenever you’re seen out together.

The problem lies in the insanity of it all. You are not from this sort of life, you weren’t born into a silver spoon dynasty and you barely know how to interact with any of them now. You get along with the other WAGs as best you can; Heidi’s lovely, sure, and you were friendly with Charlotte until she disappeared, but sometimes it feels like it’s just you and your boyfriend against the world. Of any ally to pick, Carlos would be your top choice each and every time, but still. The fact remains that he will go out and race and leave you to your own devices, and you lack the extroverted impulses to social climb with everyone else.

This, then, is the main concern. You can pick out whatever designer clothes you want, goodness knows Carlos has offered to buy you anything already, and you can get your nails and hair done before each and every race, but that doesn’t change the fact that you, at your core, are never going to enjoy the paparazzi circus whenever you have to brave it.

It’s just not your scene, that’s all. You’re on the quieter side, happy to spend time with a few key friends but increasingly nervous in large crowds. Formula One is all large crowds, as you’ve discovered; thousands of fans, hundreds of engineers and team members, plus drivers and girlfriends and best friends. So many eyes, all on you. So many voices all shouting over each other.

You love Carlos, though, and you love him wholeheartedly, so you gather up your courage and go to race weekends when you can. Every time Carlos sees you in the crowd, he smiles so widely his friends tease him for weeks, and he runs to you first after every podium and strong finish. You want to be there for your boyfriend, truly you do, you just wonder if all of this should come easier to you than it does.

Also, you wonder if Carlos wishes the same thing. He has been nothing but perfect to you, so the spirals of guilt currently tangling their way through your insides are purely of your own creation, but what if he truly does think like that? Carlos must see the other WAGs, how they shine and sparkle with attention instead of feeling the urge to run. Wouldn’t he want that? Wouldn’t he get frustrated that you can’t be like the rest?

Thousands of girls in the world, and he picks you. You don’t know if it’s sweet or genuinely frightening. He wanted you out of everyone, yes, but he could replace you in a snap, swapping you out like some useless part on his car. There is nothing about you that cannot be replicated in any other girl. Even Charles did it, in a way, got himself a new girlfriend that’s a dead ringer for Charlotte. Carlos has no reason to keep you except for something he knows and you don’t.

The guessing will drive you mad, maybe, but you’ll lose your sanity long before that just trying to keep up with everything in his fast-paced life. You’ve been to prior F1 races, obviously, it’s how you met Carlos in the first place and it’s also how you kept him, but this upcoming weekend is different, this is Barcelona. Carlos is the center of attention at his home race, and every step he takes, a new storm of people is flooding in to ask him for autographs, selfies, anything to remind them that he’s real and right before their eyes.

Carlos doesn’t ask for a whole lot, and he certainly didn’t force you to come to this race, but you saw the hope in his dark eyes when he brought it up oh-so-casually at a dinner last week. You had assured him that you would go there to cheer him on along with the rest of his home crowd, and Carlos had been delighted for the rest of the evening.

You are happy to go, truly, but it’s taking everything in you to keep your smile up in front of the reporters and crowds and fans, and it’s just the first day. All you’re handling right now is qualifying, not even the actual race. In the back of your mind, a voice whispers that it’s only going to get worse from here on out, but when Carlos looks back at you as you wind through the paddock, you just smile and tell him you’re glad to be there with him. You’re here for him, after all, and Carlos is busy enough with race stuff that he won’t want to hear your complaints.

That’s what you keep repeating to yourself throughout the entirety of that day. Carlos qualifies well and is properly pleased about it, as he should be. The possibility of a podium or perhaps even a win for his home race has been one of his top goals for the season, and he’s as close as he can get to it right now. He earnestly talks about it the whole drive back to your hotel, but once you’re back in the safety and peace of the room, the conversation abruptly switches back to you.

Carlos sheds his jacket at the door, watches you flop down onto the bed with a smile on his face, then asks you pointedly, “And how are you doing, amor?”

You smile back at him, the expression trained to perfection after being tested so many times today. “Great! Glad that everything’s going so well for you. I’ll be cheering for P1 tomorrow.”

In truth, you’re tired more than anything. People kept coming up to you all day, assuming that taking a selfie with Carlos’ girlfriend was at least half as good as getting to see him. They gave you all manner of gifts and things to give to him, extracting promises that you’d tell him dozens of different people wished him well. You knew you’d get a lot more attention when you started dating Carlos, but the lack of personal space and privacy at the races is truly unlike anything you’d experienced before.

Carlos has been dating you long enough to pick up on this, apparently, because he furrows his brow and sits down on the edge of the bed next to you. “I’ll be glad to see you tomorrow, but do you want to tell me what is really on your mind? Don’t try to tell me otherwise. I know you, no?”

You sigh, covering your face with one of your arms. Carlos deflects from this attempt to hide by gently pulling your arm away, pressing a kiss to your forehead to make up for it. “Talk to me, cariño.”

You look sorrowfully at him, but when it becomes clear that Carlos won’t let you go until you confess, you give in. “It’s just a lot, I guess. The people and the cameras and everything.”

Carlos frowns. “I can get them to go away, you know that. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

You look away. “I just thought you wouldn’t want to hear it. All of the other girlfriends have no problem with it, just me. I thought you’d want me to be more outgoing, so I tried, I really did, it’s just hard for me, I don’t know why.”

When you dare to risk a glance up at Carlos, you’re surprised to notice that he looks genuinely hurt. “Sweetheart, you didn’t think that I would actually be unhappy about that? I just want you to be happy. Don’t think about me.”

You let out a low breath. “I know, it’s just– I want to be like the rest, really. I don’t want this to be a reason–”

You cut yourself off, distracted by Carlos’ hands still wrapped around yours. Carlos picks up on the obviously dropped subject, though, and looks at you with fresh concern. “You don’t want it to be a reason for what?”

“That you would break up with me,” you whisper.

That’s it, then. That’s the truth. If you can’t live with Carlos’ lifestyle, why wouldn’t he leave you for someone who could? It makes perfect sense to you, but judging by Carlos’ expression, that logic couldn’t be further from his mind.

“No, Y/N,” he says, “That’s not right at all. I don’t want to break up with you, like, ever. Not because of this. I don’t want someone else, I want you. I love you, querida. I love the girl who showed up out of nowhere and made me forget about every other woman in the world. I love the girl who shows up to my home race even though it stresses her out because she wants to be there for me. I love you, Y/N. No one else. Just you.”

And, well, in the face of such passionate declarations, who could stand firm in their own self-pity? Certainly not you. You smile and let him kiss you again and again until you can’t see straight, and after that it is better, it is all better. Hearing it straight from Carlos is better than trying to guess at it. It lets your worries finally sink off into nothingness. It’s just you and him, just what he wants. Just what you want.

f1 tag list: @j-brielmalfoy

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz imagines #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz oneshot #f1 #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 oneshot #formula one #formula one imagines #formula one x reader #formula one oneshot #f1 carlos #f1 carlos imagines #f1 carlos x reader #f1 carlos oneshot

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impactedfates · 1 year ago

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Hi hi I'm feeling so cruel right now >:]

So uuuh HCs for DH[IL], Jingyuan, Blade and Welt reacts how does their child [reader] dies... Like imagine how reader dies is like how the Genshin Playable characters die [they dusted away]

Please feed me a n gst

—🫶🏻 Anon

★ A/N: The way the reader dies reminds me of how one of my ocs species dies lmao. Hopefully this is up your ally :))

☆ Genre/Trope: Platonic + Familial + Angst

★ Format: Bullet Pointed HeadCannons (It kinda turned into a mini story I think-)

☆ Warnings: Mentions of Death (Readers)

★ Extra: Adopted reader in all // Reader is under 12 for Dan Fengs, and in their teens for the rest // Giving Jing Yuan more of a sad life/hj // Wrote this in WellBeing class lmao // Characters may be OOC

Dan Feng as a High Elder doesn’t always have the time to really see you. Sure when he first adopted you he did spend a good chunk of his time with you but eventually his duties caught up.

He appointed someone to look after you. Someone that you knew and that he knew. Someone trustworthy.

So when he came back to his home early one day, the house dead silent. He grew worried. He called out to the person, to you. But there was no response.

He walked to your room, perhaps the both of you fell asleep. Wouldn’t be the first time.

But all he could witness was dust covering your room. And the man no where to be seen.

He knew instantly where that dust came from, he was quick to search for him. Found him hiding thinking he could get away, unaware that Dan Feng would be home early, unaware Dan Feng would catch him.

The man he had trusted to protect you, was the same man who ended the life you should’ve continued to have.

Dan Feng was quick to throw the man in the Shackling Prison, praying to whatever Aeon that can hear him that he gets what he deserves.

He collected as much of the dust that was still in his house, the last thing that he had of you. And carefully placed them in a jar.

Many question the High Elder why he holds a jar of dust so dearly to him, and all those times he refuses to answer. Not wanting to break down in front of the other Vidyadharas.

It was only a mission, a mission he sent you and Yanqing on. He had thought there were only a few Mara struck soldiers that had to be defeated.

He had wondered why Yanqing slowly entered the Seat of Divine Foresight without you. He had wondered why Yanqing was breathing rapidly and on the verge of tears.

Jing Yuan comforted Yanqing before asking about your whereabouts. Perhaps you were getting snacks after a successful mission? Yanqing could only try to explain in a shaky voice, clearly startled and upset.

But why would he be upset? You were his adopted sibling and was usually so kind to him. You wouldn’t have done anything to hurt him?

Yanqing tried his best to explain, stuttering over his words and needing to take a few deep breaths, the General listened carefully.

…Ambush? Well…Jing Yuan supposed he made an error in that. He only thought there were a few. Wow, if you and Yanqing didn’t know about that then you could’ve been caught off guard and…

Oh!

Oh…

Jing Yuan quickly connected the dots, he slowly held Yanqing closer, witnessing his own sibling fall to the hands of the Mara struck then be faced with dealing with the remaining enemies…he couldn’t imagine the stress.

A ceremony was held in your honour. Your dust already gone away like the wind so your memories will follow as he sends multiple starsciff at with gifts.

But he’ll always remember, he’ll remember the regret he felt that he couldn’t do anything nor could he have seen that an ambush would occur.

He wished he could’ve done something.

Are you dumb or something??

Blade could’ve taken that hit. Why’d you have to take it!?

He would’ve been fine. He wouldn’t been okay, a relief would’ve washed over him even though he knew he’d survive.

So then why did you have to take the hit that was meant for him, and leave him in a state of rage?

He quickly disposed of the pests that caused your demise, before trying to check on you. But all he could do was watch as your body dusts away.

He tried his best to grab any dust he could but most went with the wind. All he could do was stand there questioning why you would do that.

He said he’d protect you. Everyone else in the Stellaron Hunters were busy so he had to take you with him when he did his part. Yet it ended with you gone.

There was a small ceremony for your disappearance from the earth. Elio as much as he may not want too, he continued sending people on missions however allowed Blade to opt out of them he could properly mourn.

Blade still wonders why you decided to save him when he would’ve been fine, he wonders if he’d be able to save you if he noticed the enemy creepy behind him.

It was just a small argument. Welt felt bad but allowed you to storm off. You’d return eventually anyways. You’d return once dinner was ready back at the express, you knew what time that was.

But you never did return did you? Welt had thought long and hard and was ready to apologise for his words yet you weren’t back yet? Did you get dinner then go to your room?

He went to check, your room was the exact same you left it.

Did…anyone see you come back? He questioned the members of the express. None have seen you.

Finally he grabbed his coat and cane and went to look for you. Went in the direction you went and searched. As he walked his foot stepped in something. Looking down confused, his eyes widened.

Golden Dust. Dust that he knew belonged to you. Dust that told him you were gone.

And he wasn’t able to tell you he was sorry.

Welt is silent as he walks back, he let the wind take your dust elsewhere. A place he hopes you’d be happy in.

He was quiet but able to tell the express what happened. Each of them holding a small funeral for you. They kept your room intact, filled with things you loved before locking it. That room will no longer be filled with warmth but will soon grow cold.

Welt drew a picture of you, keeping it safe with him. And despite how it may seem that eventually he was over your death. He could never be.

Not until he was able to apologise for the argument.

But that won’t happen anytime soon now will it?

This was actually rlly fun to write!! Especially in well-being haha. This was meant to be posted yesterday but something came up so here it is now haha.

Might've missed some warnings, so as always. Please inform me if I did.

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mphoenix-7 · 4 months ago

Text

Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]

Chapter 13: The Cabin: Day 5 (pt. 4)

Summary: Soap takes you to a special place he’s found during your five days at the Cabin. You sit, eat, and talk about your pasts a little bit. Soap opens up more than you expect, and you share some stuff about your past too.

Word Count: 6,511

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, swearing, strong language, mentions of death, slightly descriptive mentions of death, car accident, trauma, sweet moments

A/N: Time for a little bonding between you and Soap. More to follow ☺️😉 Also, a Taglist has been added! Please comment on if you’d like to be added to it! Thanks for reading 🫶🏻

Masterlist | <- Previous | Next ->

Bitter Allies • Part 13

The place Soap had in mind for lunch turned out to be absolutely beautiful. A small clearing opened up before you, with a crystal-clear stream winding through it. In one spot, the water pooled gently, forming a small, serene pond. Reeds and wildflowers grew in abundance around the water’s edge, their vibrant colors adding a touch of whimsy to the scene. Only a few trees dotted the clearing, allowing plenty of sunlight to stream through, casting a warm and inviting glow over the area.

The second you walk to the spot, you have to stop to really take it all in. As cliche as it sounded, the spot really was breathing taking. It makes you sad to think that it’s been here the whole time, and you’re just now finding out about this spot on day five.

“Wow…” You breathe, Soap stopping a few steps ahead of you to wait for you to finish taking it all in. “It’s so pretty. How on earth did find this place?” You ask, eyes still trained on the scene ahead as you resume your walking.

“It was the first day we got here. After our big blow up at each other, I went exploring to cool off and just happened to stumble upon it by chance.” He answers. “Come on, the best spot to sit is over here.”

You let him take the lead again, noticing the path you were following looked like it had been walked on before. A lot of the tall grasses and other shrubs were in disarray or broken.

It wouldn’t surprise you if Soap had frequented this place throughout the five days you’ve been here. There were a lot of opportunities for him to get angry and want to storm off somewhere to cool down. This was quite the place to cool down too. You wouldn’t blame him for wanting to come here.

The path Soap was following lead right up the stream. Once you’re right next to him at the edge of the water, Soap glances over at you. “We can cross here. Just be careful cause these rocks can get a little slippery. Especially that speckled one.”

“What? Why are we crossing? Can’t we just stay on this side?” You question him, looking back to the gentle stream. Although it’s not particularly wide or deep, you’d need to take a couple of steps through the water to get across. You notice a few rocks scattered across the stream that could serve as stepping stones, but the prospect of crossing seemed unnecessary.

Soap shrugs a bit. “I mean we could, but there’s a clearing that’s just tall grass right by the water on the other side.” He points out the space he was talking about. “It’s a nice spot. Just trust me.”

You hum softly in thought, debating on if it’s worth the risk of falling in. It wasn’t like the stream would sweep you away or you’d drown—it’d just make for a cold, soggy walk back to the cabin. Even then, it was quite warm out today, so there was a good chance you wouldn’t even be that cold.

You go back and forth in your mind for a little longer before just giving in and agreeing. “Alright.” You sigh. “Better be super worth it, cause I’m risking falling in for it.”

Soap huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “States, if a big muscular guy like me can cross without falling in, I’m sure someone as slim and nimble as you can make it without a problem.

You gasp and dramatically slap a hand over your chest. “Wow, slim and nimble? I think that’s the closest thing to a compliment you’ve ever given me.” You tease, making Soap roll his eyes.

“I’ve complimented you plenty of times.” He grumbles as he turns to face the stream. He begins to cross the stream, his step placement confident looking. You can tell that he’s done this a few times now. Either that or the rocks were that slippery.

“Saying shit like, ‘you didn’t suck as much today’ does not count.” You call after him, watching as he shifts his weight so that he’s standing on two rocks.

He looks back at you, his brows pinched slightly and an indignant look on his face. “That totally counts.” He insists.

“That’s a back handed compliment at best.” You argue back, folding your arms over your chest as you watch him.

He raises a brow at you, almost mockingly. “Still a compliment though. And besides, that’s how all of us compliment each other.”

You can’t deny that. The 141 boys did have a habit of tossing around quips more than actual praise. Gaz was the exception. He didn’t do it as often, but even he had his moments. Still, you’ve received genuine compliments from Price when it was just the two of you, and Gaz gave them to you quite a bit. Ghost hardly ever did, but that was just Ghost.

“I’ve gotten real compliments from the others before.” You counter, finally stepping forward to place your foot on the first rock.

“Even Ghost?” Soap retorts, holding out his hand to help you balance while you get your footing. You take it, wobbling a bit until you get your other foot placed. Once you have your balance, you let go of Soap’s hand.

“Ghost doesn’t count. You’d be lucky if he insulted you.”

“Alright, I’ll give you that.” Soap laughs a little bit, easily stepping across the remaining stones and getting to the other side without a problem. He didn’t even so much as wobble.

You follow after him, holding out your arms to the side a bit to help you balance. You managed to get across though without falling in. It wasn’t that difficult to cross; the rocks were flat enough and they really weren’t too wet. The second your feet hit the grass on the other side, Soap is giving you a slow clap.

“Good job. You crossed and didn’t fall in. Gold star. How’s that for a compliment?” He teases, getting an eye roll.

“Oh fuck off.” You groan, giving him a shove. Soap laughs as you push him away, his arms coming up to shield himself as he stumbles a little away from you. “Just go back to not complimenting me. I think it was better that way.”

“If you insist.” He laughs. “Just remember that you told me that the next time you start whining about how I never say anything nice.”

Soap starts to lead the way once more, walking you over to the spot he’d been so insistent on going to. True to his word, it’s right by the water, nestled on a tiny mound that offers a perfect view of the stream below. A small waterfall that feeds into the pond adds a soothing backdrop of sound. The tall grass around the area is flattened, clear evidence that Soap has visited this place at least once before.

When you get there, Soap steps into the center of where all the grass is flattened and begins to stomp a little more down more around the edges to make room for you to sit. Once he’s done, he steps over to one side and motions for you to get comfortable in the spot he’s just made.

“There we go. Have a seat.” He says, dropping the backpack from his shoulders and setting it down in the grass before sitting himself.

You sit down slowly, surprised by how soft the grass feels beneath you. Being so close to the water, it’s lush and cool, not dried out or prickly like you’d expected. You could honestly take a nap here.

“I still can’t get over how beautiful it is out here. So different from base and deployments.” You say once you’re settled in.

The military base you were currently stationed at, like most others, was dominated by neutral tones and dark green colors. It was a familiar sight—most bases you’d been to had a similar aesthetic. The ones in America were mostly concrete and equipment, with gray dominating the landscape. The base you're at now does have patches of grass, but they’re poorly maintained, with dirt paths worn into them from the constant foot traffic of soldiers.

Then of course when it came to your deployments, half the time you went to places where it was mostly desert. If you did go to a place with a lot of natural greenery, then it was normally so war torn, with uprooted trees, tank tracks, and pits that people dug or ones created by frags, that it wasn’t very enjoyable. The other scenario was you were in a beautiful place but couldn’t enjoy it because you were being shot at.

This was a rare treat. The sounds of nature, no war in sight, no needing to be on high alert for snipers. Just time to sit back and enjoy the beauty of the world you hardly got to see. Even if at first this unscheduled vacation seemed like a death sentence, you were learning to enjoy it. At the very least, you could take back snippets of moments like this.

“Yeah,” Soap hums softly from where he’s seated. “It reminds me a little of Scotland.”

You glance over at him, taking notice of the faint smile on his face as he looks around at the little grassy meadow. He was thinking about his motherland. His home. There’s a longing in his eyes that you’d have to be blind to miss.

“How so?” You venture, wanting to hear more about where he came from. You were sure that Soap, ever the proud Scotsman, would have no problem gushing about Scotland. And you were right. The second the question leaves your lips, he seems to light up.

“All this lush, rolling grass, the gentle breeze, the fresh air, and the sound of the stream—it reminds me of the Highlands and the woods by my childhood home. We lived right outside of town, and our house sat on a hill, giving us the best view of the open land. Behind us, there were miles and miles of woods, covered in moss, with a stream running through it. It was bigger than this one, but the feel of it… it’s the same.”

He pauses, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he continues. “I spent so much time out there when I was a wee laddie. From sunup to sundown, I was always outside. My friends and I would climb trees, play all sorts of game, build forts. In the stream, we would stack rocks to build dams and splash around when it was warm.”

You laugh softly, smiling at the thought of a young, rowdy John MacTavish playing in the woods. It was something you could easily picture. “No wonder you’re so knowledgeable about bears and stuff.”

Soap shrugs a little bit. “We don’t have bears in Scotland. The most dangerous animals out where I was were boars and red deer. I learned all that stuff about bears when I was deployed in Russia.”

“Well regardless, it sounds like you were quite the forest dweller as a child.”

Soap laughs, the sound warm and genuine. “Aye, I was. I went to the woods for everything. My favorite spot was that stream though. I’d go out there by myself and sit by the water, letting it wash away whatever was on my mind. It was always my go to place when I was sad, angry, or just needing to clear my head. It always made me feel better.”

Soap pauses a moment, a little huff of a laugh leaving him as he recalls some story on his mind. “Like the time I first learned I’d no longer be an only child. When my mum and dad told me I was gonna have a little sister, I was so pissed. Took off right out the back door and spent hours out there.”

You laugh softly, but your eyebrows are raised in surprise. “I didn’t know you had a sister.”

His files made no mention of his family, though you suppose they wouldn’t have anyway. Information like that was kept almost as secure as launch codes. Still, you always pictured Soap as an only child.

“Yeah, fucking three of them.” He huffs, which surprises you even further. “Eilidh (AY-lee), Rowan, and Kirsten.”

“Damn, MacTavish. I never would have pictured you growing up with three girls.” You smirk, and he returns it, amused himself.

“That’s exactly what Gaz said too.” Soap muses, leaning back a little now and stretching his legs out in front of him. A much more relaxed posture. “So what about you, Stateside? You have any siblings growing up?”

A smile tugs at your lips as the faces of your brother and sister flash through your mind. “An older brother and a younger sister. My brother was adopted from South Korea, and his name is Kim and my sister’s name is Rozlin.”

It was Soap’s turn to be surprised now. “Huh, I always pictured you as the youngest, not a middle child.”

“And why is that?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“I can’t say cause we said we’d be nice to each other.” He’s dodging the question, but he still answered your question without answering it.

“That’s such an older brother thing to say.”

Soap chuckles softly at your response, and the conversation pauses for a moment. There’s a few beats of silence, Soap seeming to be lost in his thoughts. He gazes back to you shortly though, changing the topic.

“You miss America and being home with them? It’s gotta hard being in a completely different country than the rest of your family.”

You hum softly, a slight frown on your face. It has been a while since you’ve seen your siblings— about a year now. You were sadly used to not seeing much of them anymore now though. Being in the military for a few years now, you didn’t get to be home often with them. You only really saw them on holidays or through FaceTime calls. The last time you’d seen them was through such a call before you’d transferred overseas. The last time in person had been for a sadder event you didn’t want to currently think about.

“Yeah…” You trail off, trying to find a way to explain your feelings to Soap’s question.

Soap frowns as you trail off, his expression going from light and playful to a touch more serious. “You don’t miss home?” He asks hesitantly.

“No,” you shake your head. “I do. I mean, America is my home, and I will always love my siblings. But this life changes you. I can never go back to being a civilian, and it’s like the life I had in America before the military is one I will never have again.”

Soap hums softly, his brows slightly furrowed as he listens. “I get it. A bit of a love-hate relationship.”

“Exactly.” You sigh, a slightly sad smile on your face. “It’s hard to get us all together anyway. Kim also joined the forces, I’m in special-ops now, and last I knew, Rozlin is thinking of joining too.”

“Wow, quite the military family.” Soap chuckles. “Your parents must be proud.”

There it was. The moment those words leave Soap’s lips, a sharp pang of loss hits you, squeezing your heart. You smile sadly at the thought of your parents, trying to push the emotions down. “They were.” You nod, trying to keep it short, but Soap’s curiosity was piqued.

“Were?” He asks slowly, making you sign. Gently, you start to pick at the blades of grass around you, trying to get the words out.

“My… My parents died like a year ago. I guess closer to a year and a half now.” You bite the inside of your cheek, continuing to pick at the grass, but also watching out of the corner of your eye as Soap sits up more.

“Oh God… States, I’m so sorry to hear that.” He says, frowning at you.

“It’s fine. Really. I mean, I’ve have time to process it.” You try to give him a smile to let him know you really were alright, but your eyes still held the sadness of losing someone you love.

The news of their death had been a complete shock to you. Your Sergeant at the time had called you into his office in the middle of a drill one morning to break the news to you. It didn’t sink in right away. You’d denied their death the entire flight back to your hometown. It was only when you entered the funeral hall, and your sister came running to you, her body trembling with sobs as she buried her face in your shoulder, that the weight of the loss finally hit you.

That was the last time you’d been under the same roof with both of your siblings. It was the last time you’d been to your childhood hometown. The last time you’d stepped foot in your childhood home.

“Can I asked what happened?” Soap asks softly, breaking you away from your thoughts.

“Car accident. Drunk driver. Going too fast and hit them head on.” You pick at a few more blades of grass, trying your hardest to fight back tears. God how much you still resented that other driver. The one who got to live.

Soap sighs, looking down and not saying anything for a moment as he takes in what you’ve just told him. “That’s horrible.” He finally says after a moment. “I… I know what’s it like. My uh… my mum also died in a car accident when I was young.” He says slowly, and you instantly look over at him.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through something like that.” You say gently, resting a hand on his knee. You can feel your heart breaking for him. “How did… what happened?” You ask gently, not wanting to dig too much if it was a hard topic for him.

“Don’t really know.” Soap says, looking down at your hand on his knee. “She went out for something in the next town over and never came back. The next morning, they found her car had swerved off road and smashed into a tree. She wasn’t speeding, she didn’t do drugs, wasn’t drinking. Probably alive after she hit the tree and bled out…”

He clears his throat, his eyes instantly becoming glossy. Growling a little, he sniffs and wipes at one of his eyes. “Still not over it.” He chuckles, trying to hide his hurt. “That day changed everything for me. My mum was the kindest and most incredible woman...”

He trails off again, his voice wavering near the end. He was clearly struggling. You give his knee a reassuring squeeze, but he doesn’t look back at you. He keeps his focus trained on the ground.

“Could you tell me about her?” You ask softly. A small smile flickers on Soap’s face, just barely noticeable. He pauses for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, then nods slowly. You can see him steady himself before he starts to speak.

“She was the most loving, understanding person you could ever meet,” Soap begins, his voice softening. “It’s hard to put into words who she was, but everything about her just… beautiful.” His eyes grow distant as he speaks, gaze drifting toward the stream once more. He’s caught up in some kind of memory, one you don’t wish to interrupt.

A moment later, he shifts his gaze back to you. “You remember that story I told you earlier? About how I ran into the woods when I found out I was getting a sister?”

You nod.

“Well, it was my mum who came and found me afterwards. She always knew exactly what to do to make me feel better. I remember she brought me some shorties, which were my absolute favorite. They still are, I love those things.” Soap chuckles softly before continuing with his story.

“We didn’t talk right away. She just sat with me, and we listened to the water together. Just the two of us. It’s funny, I don’t remember exactly what we talked about, but I remember we talked until the sun went down. And when we got home, she tucked in and told me, ‘John, no matter what, you’ll always be my boy. You’ll always have a place in this family, and no one can take that from you.’ She told me that having a sister wouldn’t change that, and that being a big brother meant having someone who’d look up to me, someone I could protect.”

His voice softens as he adds, “She taught me that love wasn’t something that got divided—it just grew. That stuck with me. Made me feel better about everything. Like I wasn’t losing anything but gaining something special.

Whenever I think about home, my home before my dad met Annette and remarried, or when I see something like this stream, I think of her. I’d give anything to sit and talk with her by the stream at home again. Just one more time.”

When he finishes, you’re left utterly speechless. His recollection about his mother is so touching, so sweet, and so heartfelt—nothing like the Soap you knew. You’ve never seen this side of him before, not even around the other members of the 141.

Your heart aches for him, the pain in his words is palpable, and you can see it in his eyes as he gazes longingly at the flowing water. You never imagined that you and Soap would share such a traumatic loss. In a strange way, it makes you feel closer to him. You’re touched that he would share something so personal with you. Something that made him vulnerable.

Without you even realizing it, a single tear slides down your cheek. You only notice it when Soap brushes it away. His touch pulls you back to the present, and you focus on his eyes, which hold tears of their own. He doesn’t say anything, his eyes expressing an understand.

His thumb lingers on your cheek for just a second longer, his touch gentle. When he finally pulls his hand back, the corners of his mouth twitch into a small, bittersweet smile. The silence between you feels heavy, but not uncomfortable—more like a shared space where words aren’t necessary.

You take a deep breath, looking back to the stream, able to image John and his mother sitting there. “Your mother sounds like she was a real treasure.” You feel like your words aren’t enough. There’s nothing you can say to tell Soap how saddened you are by hearing about the loss of this mother. How great she sounded.

It’s enough to bring a smile to Soap’s face though. The longing is still in his eyes, but you know it’s a look that will never fully go away. But there’s also something else there too—a glimmer of happiness. Pride that you think his mother is just an incredible as the way he’s described her.

“I’m sure your parents were just as loving and incredible as my mum was.” Soap says softly. “They raised one hell of daughter.”

His words hit you hard, much harder than you expected. You’re brought to tears once more, watching them quickly well up in your line of sight, and you need to bite your cheek to keep from breaking down. Soap’s words touched your heart. You can’t be more grateful for them, but are unable to express the true extent of their impact. All you can manage to a nod and choked out, “thank you…”

Soap’s smile is gentle, understanding. He reaches for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You squeeze back just as tightly, silently supporting each other as you listen to the slow rush of water from the stream.

Soap holds your hand the entire time you look out to the water together. A pleasant silence falls between you, but Soap eventually breaks it, letting go of your hand as he does.

“We should eat, huh?” He chuckles, his tone a tough lighter now. You’re almost relieved though to move on to something else. There was only so much you could take talking about death.

“Yeah, yeah, we should.” You agree, watching as Soap turns to grab the backpack. He unzips and starts to rifle through its contents. “What’s on the menu for today?” You ask, trying to peak over into the bag to see what he’s grabbed.

“Today, we have a fine selection of…” He pulls out two MREs. “Homestyle vegetables in sauce with noodles and chicken and homestyle vegetables in sauce with noodles and chicken.” He lists, pausing between pulling each one out and holding them up for you to see.

You make a face, wanting to gag at what was probably the most unappetizing MRE there is. To be fair, it wasn’t horrible. If you were in a pinch, starving out in the middle of nowhere, freezing while you huddled under a tent in the middle of a downpour, or had eaten the same thing for a week straight, it would taste incredible. But currently, not starving, dry, and having eaten nothing but bland foods for the past five days, it sounded horrible.

“We didn’t have anything else?” You ask, wondering why he’d grabbed what he most likely also thought was the most bland and boring MRE kit there was.

Soap gives you a small shrug. “We’ve gone through every other MRE except this one. We’ve got one beef ravioli and one jalapeño beef patty left, but those were the last of the decent ones. I thought we might want to save them for tomorrow, so we don’t have to eat this mush for the rest of our time here.” He explains, handing the unappealing, brown packaged meal over to you.

You scowl down at it. “I think I’d almost rather starve than eat this.” You admit, turning the package over and inspecting it in disdain.

“It’s better when you have hot sauce you can put on it.” Soap says, already tearing open his kit and dumping the contents out.

You reluctantly open yours, but not before giving him a look. “Hot sauce in what is essentially chicken noodle soup? That sounds disgusting.”

Soap shrugs. “It gives it something interesting besides just blandness.” He says matter-o-factly, pausing in tearing open his food to dig back through the backpack. He comes up with your canteens and hands you yours. You can heat up your food with it and make the broth.

“I’ll keep that it mind.” You really have no intention of trying the weird mixtures he’s suggesting though. Hopefully, though unrealistically, you’d never have to eat this MRE again.

Resigning yourself to the unappetizing lunch in front of you, you tear open the MRE with a resigned sigh, already dreading the bland taste you know is coming. As you work on opening the package and sorting all the different packets, you glance back at Soap. “So, when did you join the force?” you ask, genuinely interested in learning more about Soap’s past, but also eager for the distraction from the meal.

“I joined when I was eighteen. Tried to enlist before then by lying about my age, but they figured it out and rejected my application.” Soap says, which makes you giggle. It sounded like something he would do.

“Excited about joining I see.” You muse, watching as Soap carefully pours water into the heating pouch and slides the meal packet inside. He props it against the backpack to let it heat up.

“Yeah… something like that.” He mutters, his tone seeming to shift just the slightest bit. It was enough to make you pause, but he continues on. “But I got in at eighteen. I was selected for the 22nd Regiment.”

You nod a little bit, deciding to brush off his brief shift in tone for now. “So what did you do in the 22nd?” You ask, filling your own heating pouch to get your food warm. All you really knew about the 22nd Regiment was that it some British infantry group.

“I was a part of an elite squadron that specialized in stuff like covert reconnaissance, counter-terrorism, and hostage rescues.” He explains, watching as you filled the bag up and prep it. Once it’s ready, he motions for you to give it to him, and he sets it up against the backpack next to his. “I did eight years there and then when I was twenty-six, I was doing training in Hereford, and Price was the evaluator. He saw a lot of potential in me or something, pushed me in my training, and when selection came, I passed. Was in the SAS after that. Youngest candidate to ever pass selection.”

You knew that about him already. It’d been in his file. You remember reading his file on the plane ride over to their base and being so impressed. He hadn’t just scraped by either, he got the highest marks possible on each phase of the test.

“I remember reading that in your file on the flight over.” You smile. “Made it all the more intimidating to join the team. Had one guy who was youngest to join the SAS, one whose entire file was reacted due to the work he did, a highly decorated Sergeant, and a seasoned Captain.”

Soap laughs softly at that. “Yeah, still didn’t keep you away, though.” Soap teases, earning himself an eye roll and a gentle shove.

It makes him laugh even more, and it’s strange to hear him joke about something like that for once. Normally when he made comments about stuff like wanting you to leave or wishing you hadn’t joined, he meant it. This time he seemed like he was joking. There was no hidden edge to his words.

“I had to sign the contract before they let me read up about you guys.” You joke back, playing along. Though that was true, you really did have to sign a contract first. You weren’t allow much information about the team unless you agreed to go. The only thing they really informed you about was the basic role of the position you’d be taking.

“We got your file the second you signed up.” Soap says, checking on his food by touching the back of his hand to the bag. His food must have been warm enough cause he starts to take it out of the heating pack. “Didn’t even really know we were getting another person until Price dropped it all in front of us at a meeting. Had only a few days to get ready for you.”

That was new information to you. You figured the guys would have known they were getting someone new long before you signed on. At the same time though, it made sense. It was safer to keep information like that between only a few people, and with the enemies you knew your current Task Force has made over the years, it was probably good not to have word get out they were growing the team.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when you notice Soap is handing you your meal bag. He mutters a, “here” and you take it from him.

“Oh, thanks.” You mumble back, touching the bag carefully to make sure it was warm enough. It felt decent enough to eat, so you pulled it out of the bag.

As you do that, Soap has already getting his open and is looking back to you. “So, where were you stationed before joining us? I know it was in your file somewhere, but I forgot.” Soap continues on in conversation, mixing his food a bit.

“The Green Berets.” You answer, pulling the rip-strip on the top of the food pouch. The smell of chicken hits you instantly, and the sight of the noodles is already unappealing. “Outside of basics and the platoon I was assigned to, I’ve been with them my whole career. Until now of course with transferring to a Task Force.”

Soap hums softly as he listens to you and takes his first bite of the chicken veggie noddle MRE. Watching him eat it makes you shutter, though he seemed unbothered.

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” Soap mutters through a mouthful of food, his words come out muffled as he chews. He doesn’t bother to finish chewing and swallowing before speaking again. “Did some training with them back in the day.”

You wrinkle your nose in distaste, watching as he continues to take another bite of the noodles. He hadn’t even finished his first bite before adding another one. You never really noticed the way he ate until now.

“You know, the chicken noodles are bad enough on their own. You really don’t need to make it worse by talking with your mouth full.” You frown.

Soap chuckles at you, though he at least swallows before speaking again. “At least I’m eating it. You haven’t even touched yours.” He points towards your untouched meal bag with his spoon.

You glance down at the bag of unappetizing noodles and sigh. “Can you blame me? This stuff is revolting.”

He laughs again, rolling his eyes as he takes another bite. “Come on, it’s not that bad. The faster you eat it, the sooner you’ll be done suffering.”

You can't argue with that logic. As much as you hate to admit it, Soap has a point. The faster you got the food down, the sooner it’d be over, and the less you would taste. It wasn’t like you weren’t capable of eating fast either. Back in bootcamp, you only had five minutes to eat sometimes. So you were more than capable of shoveling it down, you just preferred not to eat that way.

Sighing to yourself, shoulders sagging, you reluctantly scoop up a small bite and force it into your mouth. The taste isn’t terrible, just bland, but the texture is what gets you. A shudder runs through you as you chew, and you can’t help but gag slightly as the mushy noodles slide down your throat.

The whole time you struggle through the bite, Soap watches with wide eyes, his expression shifting between horror and concern. When you finally swallow and chase the taste with a swig of water, he shakes his head. “Steamin' Jesus, that was fucking painful to watch.” He mutters.

You shutter once more, the sensation of the food sliding down your throat lingering for a moment. “I’d rather eat a raw fish from the lake we bathe in than finish this.” You complain, scowling down at the still very full bag.

Soap lets out a small huff that resembles a laugh as he turns back to his soggy noodles. “We could probably go fishing and catch a few. Cook them over the fire instead of eating them raw like some deranged woodsperson.”

Your eyes widen, and you snap your head toward him so fast it nearly startles him. “Could we really do that?!” you ask, barely containing your excitement.

You have been eating MREs or bread for the past fives days for every meal. Cooking fish, real food, instead of eating the bland, processed, and sometimes unidentifiable sludge that somehow passes for a meal in those packets would be a welcome change.

Soap still looks a little shocked, blinking at you before nodding his head slowly. “Uh, yeah.. it’s really not that hard to go fishing.” He answers slowly, and his confirmation just makes you more excited.

“Why the hell haven’t we been fishing this entire time?! Can we go fishing? Please?”

“Well…” Soap hesitates. “I mean we’d have to take the time to make some spears, and then you need to descale them and take all the bones out, and-“

“We can do those things.” You argue, your voice hopeful.

“What are you gonna season the fish with? And what about this stuff?” He holds up his half-eaten MRE. “We just gonna waste it?”

You huff, sitting back slightly. “We can use salt, cause I know we have that back at the cabin. I saved some packets from a different MRE in case of emergency. And really? There is no way that you can look me in the eyes and tell me that you’d rather eat that disgusting shit instead of fresh fish. I know you’d have no problem with tossing that for real food.”

You both stare at each other, neither one of you moving or blinking. Soap is stubbornly holding his ground, but you know him well enough to know he hates what he’s eating too. He just toying with you.

When you raise an eyebrow at him expectantly, it breaks him. He lets out a huff, a smirk quickly forming on his face. “Yeah, alright. This is pretty fucking disgusting.” He agrees with a laugh. “I’m pretty sure my stomach was gonna reject it if I tried to take another bite.”

“Does this mean we’re gonna go fishing?” You ask, a grin quickly spreading across your face.

Soap looks at you, his expression softening in a way that sends a flutter through your chest. His lips curve into a relaxed smile, his shoulders loosening as the tension eases from his posture. His stunningly blue eyes, usually so guarded and intense, are soft and filled with a mix of warmth and something deeper—a tenderness that catches you off guard. Affection?

“Yeah, we can go fishing.” Soap laughs, his voice light with amusement, the gentle look in his eyes lingering.

Your excitement bubbles over, pushing aside any further analysis of his gaze. With a grin, you quickly seal up your MRE, stow your water bottle, and begin packing. “Oh God, it’s gonna taste so good. I can already smell it cooking.” You ramble on, earning a laugh from him as he starts to pack up as well.

After everything is packed away and the backpack is zipped, Soap stands and slings it onto his shoulder. By the time he’s fully upright, you’ve already taken off. He watches as you practically bound off towards the part of the stream where you crossed earlier. He watches you for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips, then shakes his head before hurrying to catch up.

@the-faceless-bride @venavanup @hotthankss @daemondoll

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