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fizzydionne · 16 hours ago

Note

Can you do fluff reader comforting Caitlin after the Fever sun game please?

comfort

caitlin clark x reader context: reader is sitting court side by the fever bench, first part is over the game, second part is comfort. tw: mention of the fever sun game, description of violence. word count: 1,265

it was going to be a rough game. you knew that from the start. from tip off you already saw the shoving between jacy and caitlin. this so call “rivalry” has been nothing more than hyper aggression, even during the iowa days. you’ve never liked it when caitlin and jacy had to guard each other, you already knew it would be aggressive. all you could do is hope nothing bad happens.

as the game progressed you can see multiple fouls not getting called. the first two quarters went smoothly, nothing big really happening besides a couple of fouls being called and a bunch being ignored. you continue to focus on the game, cheering on the fever and making sure to cheer extra loudly for caitlin. yet you had a gut feeling telling you something bad is going to happen.

that’s when it happens

3rd 4:49 game clock, shot clock 13

caitlin gets jabbed in the eye by sheldon, after displacement by sheldon.

3rd 4:48 game clock, shot clock 12

caitlin shoves sheldon back, and marina mabery runs up and slams caitlin to the ground.

your eyes widen, time slows down, the crowd break out into yells a mix of “ooo”, gasps, and quickly “boos”. you see indiana’s bench running to the seen, some staying back to hold players, one member on the bench, coming over to you, keeping you at your seat so you wouldn’t do anything rash.

you were frozen in place, shocked by what just happened, your stomach drops and tightening at the same time, trying to process what just happened.

as they review the plays, you look over at caitlin. you see her laugh and smile with her teammates. she looks over at you, giving you a quick reassuring smile before taking a sip of her gatorade.

when the calls came out, that's when indiana saw red, both fans and players.

you, like everyone else was upset by the calls, but you couldn't focus on that, you just had to focus on the game going on.

FEVER WIN

final: connecticut sun 71, indiana fever 88. player of the game: caitlin clark, pts: 20, reb: 1, ast: 6, stl: 2.

although you were proud of her, none of that matter to you. all that mattered was if she’s okay. you knew she was running off of adrenaline and stubbornness, but now the game was over, you were worried about her state.

you wait outside the locker room, waiting for her to get done with the press conference and take a quick shower. as you wait you run into her teammates walking out. they all give you a hug, as you congratulate them on their win. when aliyah comes out you run up to her, asking if caitlin is okay and if she needs anything. aliyah being the sweetheart she is, is quick to calm you down. she tells you caitlin is close to being done and that she’s doing okay. right as she finish speaking caitlin walks out.

she quietly walks up to the two of you, wrapping and arm around your shoulder. “hey baby” she says with a smile, pulling you closer to her. you quickly hug her back, as aliyah says her byes.

the car ride home was quiet at first. “you did good tonight” you say softly, holding her hand tightly. a small laugh escapes her lips, you can tell she’s tired. “thanks baby, i always do better when you’re there.” you look over at caitlin, her eyes locked on the road. a small sigh escapes your lips. “does it hurt?” you ask. “it stings, but my back hurts more than anything.” you nod, already planning on taking care of her when you go home.

at home

you guys eat some leftover pasta, not feeling like making or getting anything tonight. you finish before caitlin, getting up from the island seating in your kitchen. when you do, her hand rests on your waist. a silent ask on ‘where you going’. “i’m going to clean my plate and then get a bath ready for you.” you say, pressing a kiss on her head, her hand leaves your waist letting you leave.

once caitlin is done eating, she puts her plate in the sink and goes to find you. she stands in the doorway of the bathroom, she sees how you prepared her a bath, fresh towels ready for her, eye drops on the bathroom counter as well as some new clothes for her to change in. “you didn’t have to do all of this.” her voice soft, filled with love and admiration. you get up from the edge of the tub, quickly drying your hand and walk over to her. “i wanted to, you had a rough game and you deserve to relax and be taken care of.” she lets out a sigh, a smile on her face, she gives you a quick, soft kiss before mumbling a thank you.

around thirty minutes later caitlin leaves the bathroom, finding you in bed reading. she joins you in bed, letting out a long sigh. “you want to talk about it?” you ask. placing your book on your end table.

caitlin pulls you into her embrace, holding you close in a cuddle, still she makes sure you’re covered by your blanket. “the calls were shit” she states, trying to be nice about it. “the refs were shit, the whole officiating for the game was shit.” which draws a small laugh from caitlin. loving how blunt you were about it.

you take a deep breath, not wanting to make the night anymore negative than it has been. “does your eye still hurts?” you ask looking up at her. “no, but a kiss can help it feel even better.” she teases, and of course you give her a small kiss under the eye that got hit. you can see the red mark on her face, making your blood boil. “what about your back? does that still hurt?”

caitlin takes a deep breath. “it’s sore more than anything, and i can’t even rest up tomorrow since i have to fly out to the bay.” she says, pulling you closer, as if you weren’t already pressed up against her.

“do you want to sit out tomorrow?” you know she hates the thought of even sitting out, but you wonder if its for the best. “no, definitely not. i’m sore but i’m not hurt enough to sit out of a game. plus its the first game i get to play against kate in a season. i can’t miss that.”

makes sense, you know how much she misses kate, even though they’re far apart they’re still best friends. “make sure you tell kate i say hi.” causing you both to laugh, “i will don’t worry.”

“do you want a back massage?” you ask, still wanting to take care of her any way you can. “nah, i just want to cuddle with you. plus we have to get to bed soon, it’s already late.” you take a deep breath, somehow relaxing even further in her embrace. “i love you” caitlin says, her arms wrapped tightly around you, one hand playing with your hair. “i love you too cait” you mumble, head on. her shoulder, arms wrapped around her torso.

although that game had gotten to her, making her exhausted and sore. somehow you were always able to make her forget, not dwelling on everything that should’ve/could’ve happened during the game. you’re able to make her look past it, only have her thinking about you and how to move on.

taglist: @salemsuccss, @laurenmcucm, @ashortyluvsports, @fizzydionne, @belsouls, @caitlinclarksrotytrophy luna’s notes thank you for the request!! it was super fun to write!! anyone who loves me never let me watch that fever vs. sun game ever again!! thanks! but i purely believe the reason caitlin did so “poorly” at the gsv game was simply because she’s sore and exhausted. :( if anyone wants to send in their requests feel free to! i love writing them!

anyways!

i hope you enjoyed-love luna <3

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fizzydionne · 2 days ago

Text

Love, Lullabies, and Us

𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 : W! Nika x Pregnant! Reader

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 : Swearing, had to mention "Y/N" multiple times

𝗪𝗖 : 5.2k

𝗔/𝗡 : Hey everyone! This is a sequel to my story, Sunny Days! I'm thinking about turning it into a family series, but I'd love to hear what you all think! (Requested 🏷️ @iowahawkeyes22 )

PART 1

Tomorrow marks a monumental day in your life, it's your wedding day with Nika. Tonight, you both find yourselves at a hotel, celebrating the night before your big day, but in separate rooms, a tradition rooted in superstition. You can hardly contain your excitement, the thought of finally becoming Nika's wifey fills you with joy. As you sit in your room, a warm smile spreads across your face while your hands gently caress your noticeable baby bump. The anticipation of what’s to come makes your heart flutter.

When morning light breaks, your makeup artist and stylist arrive, transforming your hotel room into a flurry of beauty and elegance. They work their magic, applying makeup and adjusting your gown, turning you into a vision of beauty that you can hardly recognize. As you stand in front of the mirror, you give a small spin, and your breath catches in your throat. The reflection staring back at you is stunning—radiant, joyful, and glowing in every possible way. You are overwhelmingly happy, words fail to express the feelings swelling within you.

Meanwhile, in her own room, Nika shares the same excitement. She’s slipping into the bridal gown she has envisioned wearing for so long. What makes this moment even more special is the fact she’s wearing it to marry you. You can almost feel her thrill from afar as you imagine the wide smile on her face. After hours of preparations and a flurry of nervous energy, the time finally approaches for you to head to the wedding venue.

As you arrive, the grand doors swing open, revealing a beautiful scene. Your veil cascades down, elegantly framing your face. You begin to walk down the aisle, surrounded by a lush arrangement of flowers that you and Nika carefully selected. Each step you take is filled with delight and a hint of disbelief that this dream is finally coming true. From across the aisle, you catch sight of Nika, her eyes glistening with tears that stream down her cheeks. This is it, this is the moment you have imagined for so long, marrying your soulmate, with the baby you wanted together nestled safely within you walking down with you.

Little flower girls scatter petals along the red carpet just before you entered to walk, each delicate bloom leaving a trail of beauty. As you approach the end of the aisle, your mother gently takes your hand, lovingly guiding you towards Nika, who waits eagerly to receive you. The look in her eyes is filled with love and gratitude, and when she takes your hand in hers, it feels like your hearts align.

“You’re breathtaking,” Nika whispers, her voice breaking ever so slightly with emotion. Tears glisten in her wide eyes, and you can't help but beam back at her, feeling a flutter of cheekiness from her heartfelt compliment.

“And so are you, my love,” you respond, feeling as if your heart could burst from joy. The wedding ceremony unfolds before you, but it’s the moment of exchanging vows that makes everything so real.

“Dear my love…” Nika begins, her voice steady yet full of affection.

“I vow to love you like the ocean loves the shore, endlessly, faithfully, and always comforting you when you get dramatic about the food we order from fast food, insisting that you like mine better. I promise to be your calm in the storm, your partner in mischief, and the excuse to leave those awkward parties a little early. I’ll cherish your laugh like the first warm day after winter, and your quirky habits like rare treasures known only to me. Through every chapter of our lives, those quiet mornings, thrilling adventures, and the moments when life gets a little messy, I choose you, over and over. Your heart is my favorite place, your smile is my sweetest song."

As you listen to her vows, tears well up in your eyes, a mixture of happiness and laughter spilling over. You can’t help but soak in every word she says, feeling more loved than ever.

Then it's your turn. You take a deep breath and speak from your heart, “I promise to love you louder than the roar of the crowd at your games, and softer than the warmth of your favorite hoodie after practice. I vow to be your biggest supporter, whether you’re sinking hoops on the court or scattering snacks all over the couch. You've taught me that true strength is not just in how we play the game, but in how fiercely we love, loyal and wholeheartedly. I’ll be by your side through every season of our lives, celebrating those championship highs, enduring the tough losses, and enjoying those late-night road trips where I find myself tracking your flight as if it were my full-time job. I promise to always believe in you, chase your dreams with you, and remind you, no matter how tall you stand on the court, I’ll still manage to steal your hoodies, your fries, and, effortlessly, your heart.”

As your words hang in the air, you and Nika share laughter and joyful tears, a beautiful connection woven through every sentiment shared.

Finally, the moment arrives where the priest asks, “Do you, Nika Mühl, accept Y/N Y/L as your wife, in richer times and poorer, until death do you part?”

“I do, father,” Nika responds without a single moment’s hesitation.

“Do you, Y/N Y/L, accept Nika Mühl as your wife, in riches and in struggles, until death do you part?” he asks, now directing his attention to you, and with a radiant smile, you reply, “I do.”

"You may now kiss" the priest declared, and in that moment, everything else faded away. Nika, with a soft smile and bright eyes, pulled you in by the waist, leaning in for a kiss that was both tender and filled with passion. It was as if time stood still, and you could feel those tears of joy streaming down your cheeks, a mixture of love and overwhelming happiness washing over you.

As she pulled back slightly, locking eyes with you, Nika whispered, "God, I love you so much." She wrapped her arms around you, holding you tightly but with a gentle touch, mindful of your growing baby bump. It was a beautiful reminder of the life you were creating together, and every moment felt like a dream come true.

"And I love you," you replied, feeling yourself melt into her embrace. It was hard to believe how special and magical this day truly was, a day you would remember for the rest of your lives.

It had only been a few months since you and Nika exchanged vows, but every single day since then had been filled with happiness, and you couldn’t help but think about how everything was just perfect. You felt like the luckiest person in the world.

Now, as the sun rose on yet another day, it was bittersweet because today, Nika had to leave for one of her games. They were heading to Los Angeles and would be away for a whole week before returning to Seattle for their next match. The reality of it all hit you hard, and you helped her pack her bags, participating in this routine while your pregnancy hormones ran wild. Much to your dismay, tears cascaded down your cheeks—seriously, it felt like you could fill a bucket with all those emotions.

Nika noticed your distress and wrapped her arms around you, her reassuring voice cutting through your worries. "Hey, baby, it’s okay. I’ll call you as soon as I get on the team bus, and I’ll keep you updated while we’re on the way there. Okay?" She spoke softly, trying to soothe your fears even though you couldn’t quite understand why you felt this extra pang of longing for her today compared to other trips.

"Just promise me you'll bring me back some food when you get home," you said through your sobs, your voice a mix of sadness and playful desperation. Nika couldn’t help but chuckle at your plea, and she nodded decisively. "I will, princess, I promise you," she said, planting a gentle kiss on the top of your head, her way of sealing the promise.

As the time came for her to leave, you felt a wave of loneliness crash over you the moment Nika stepped out of the house. With a heavy heart, you decided to curl up on the couch and lose yourself in a movie, hoping it would distract you from her absence. Just about an hour later, your phone rang, breaking the silence—Nika was calling you from the team bus. You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth at the sound of her voice, and you wouldn’t let her hang up until you’d shared a few more sweet moments together, even from a distance.

Nika’s face filled your phone screen, her dark brown hair tucked beneath her grey hoodie, a few strands framing her sharp cheekbones. Those familiar dark brown eyes were still impossibly bright, twinkling even through the grainy camera. You could hear the low hum of her teammates chatting in the background, but her attention was solely on you.

“See, love, I called the second we left,” she teased, her accent soft and affectionate, lips curling into that irresistible grin. “How’s my dramatic wife holding up without me?”

You dramatically flopped back on the couch, one hand on your bump, the other still gripping the hoodie she left behind. “I’ve been abandoned. Betrayed. Left to raise this tiny Croatian firecracker alone,” you whined, pouting. Nika let out a quiet laugh, running a hand through her brunette waves.

“You’ve been alone for only an hour, princess.”

“One hour's too long.” You sniffed, your voice cracking with exaggerated heartbreak. “I cried over a TikTok because someone got engaged in taylor's concert, you know, during that love story song… and then cried because your hoodie still smells like you.”

Her expression softened, dark eyes glowing with warmth as her teasing faded into something gentler. “Aww, love…” She leaned closer to the screen. “I miss you too. And our little peanut.”

You smiled, your hand instinctively tracing circles over your belly. “The baby's been kicking like crazy today. Probably mad you ditched us.”

Nika’s grin widened, her Croatian accent thickening slightly with pride. “Already has my attitude, huh? That’s my kid.” Her eyes twinkled. “But I know where they get the dramatics—from their mama.”

You gasped. “Excuse me? I am a graceful, composed, emotionally stable woman.”

Nika burst into a laugh, and you could hear her teammates snickering behind her. “Babe… you cried over soggy fries last week.”

“They were cold, Nika!”

“They were like…lukewarm at worst,” she teased, shaking her head.

You rolled your eyes at her but couldn’t help smiling. “Whatever. You better bring back fries. And nuggets. And… like, a cookie the size of my face.”

Nika chuckled softly, her dark eyes turning serious again, filled with affection. “I’ll bring back the whole bakery if that’s what you want.” She paused, her voice dropping to that sweet, sincere tone that always melted you. “I hate leaving you, you know? Especially now.” Her gaze flicked down to your bump before returning to your eyes. “But I’ll be home soon, princess. I promise.”

You let out a soft smile as you wrapped up the call. It was clear that Nika needed to focus and rest while she was on her way to Los Angeles, so you decided to let her go and enjoy the journey. After all, she had a big game ahead, and the last thing you wanted was to distract her.

But when tomorrow finally rolled around, you found yourself feeling a bit lonely. Sure, there was excitement bubbling up inside you because tonight was the night you’d finally get to watch Nika's game on TV! You had even gone a little overboard and stocked up on an array of snacks to cheer her on, popcorn, nachos, even some sweet treats. You wanted to be the loudest fan in the room, even if it was just you in your cozy living room.

You had really wanted to be there with her in person, cheering from the sidelines, but Nika had insisted that you stay home. “You’re so close to your due date,” she said with that familiar hint of concern in her voice. “I just can’t risk anything happening.” It made you feel a bit guilty, but deep down, you understood. She was just looking out for you and the little one growing inside you, and you couldn’t really argue with that kind of love and worry.

So here you were, one hour away from tip-off, pacing around your living room, trying to combat that slight sense of isolation. The anticipation was almost unbearable! Just to hear her voice, you picked up the phone and called Nika.

“Hey, baby! How are you doing?” Nika’s voice came through warmly, but there was a faint buzz of background noise, sneakers squeaking against polished hardwood, basketballs thudding in the distance, the faint, sharp whistle of a coach barking instructions.

You sat up straighter, your heart doing that ridiculous little flip. “Oh, you’re already at the arena?” you asked, immediately seeing her, dark brown hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, those intense espresso-colored eyes sharp with focus, her Croatian features drawn in determination.

“Yeah, courtside at Crypto Arena,” she confirmed, shifting the phone slightly, the background coming into focus. You caught a glimpse of towering stadium lights overhead, rows of empty seats still filling up, and the bright gleam of the Sparks's court polished to perfection. “Had to sneak off for five minutes. Told Coach I was calling my ‘pregnant, hormonal wife so she doesn’t eat the couch out of stress."

You snorted, grabbing a handful of popcorn, your free hand instinctively cradling your bump. "I’m not eating furniture! just half the snack cabinet.”

“Half? Babe, you were supposed to save the good snacks for the game,” Nika teased, adjusting her hoodie over her jersey. You could just imagine her name stitched on the back, Mühl in bold letters, the number 1 underneath, a familiar reminder of every proud moment you’d watched her dominate the court.

“The baby wanted nachos, I don’t control the baby anymore,” you said with faux innocence, biting back a grin.

Nika shook her head, but her eyes softened, glowing even under the harsh arena lights. “Love… I miss you. I hate being this far from you.”

You let out a shaky breath, your eyes flicking to the TV, already set to the sports channel, the familiar pre-game graphics rolling across the screen. “Me too,” you admitted, voice cracking slightly. “It’s weird… watching you play from here, knowing I should be there in the stands—”

“No,” Nika cut in, her tone gentle but firm, that fierce protectiveness kicking in. “We’re too close to your due date. I can’t risk… I can’t—” she paused, visibly wrestling with the emotions behind her steady exterior. “I need you both safe, okay?”

You nodded, the lump in your throat growing. “Okay… but you better wave at the camera. I need my TV moment.”

Nika’s laugh cracked through her serious expression, her dark eyes shining. “Deal. I’ll blow you a kiss mid-game, get fined for PDA if I have to.”

Your laugh melted into something softer, your heart aching, full of love and nerves and pride. “Go crush them, superstar.”

“Always,” she whispered, her voice lowering. “And after? FaceTime. I want to see your face… and your snack crimes.”

“You got it,” you grinned, feeling lighter already.

The background roared as the announcer’s voice boomed through the arena, and Nika’s eyes darted to the court. “Gotta go. I love you—more than basketball.”

You smirked. “Wow, Croatian love confessions on game night? I must be special.”

She winked, backing toward the tunnel. “The most special. I love you.”

The line clicked off, but your living room suddenly felt warmer, brighter, even from miles away.

You settled back on the couch, your bump shifting under your hand, your eyes glued to the TV.

“Alright, kid,” you whispered with a grin, “let’s go cheer for Mama.”

The second quarter was heating up, and you were already a wreck.

Your living room looked like a mini sports bar exploded—empty snack bags, half a soda can tipping precariously on the coffee table, your bump sticking out proudly under Nika’s oversized team hoodie. You were absolutely not sitting still. No chance.

The game had you on edge—L.A. fans roaring through the TV speakers, the fast-paced plays, and your wife darting across the court like she owned the place.

“Come on, Nika… come on… YES—YES, BABY!” you shrieked as Nika sank a three-pointer, nearly launching yourself off the couch, your popcorn bowl dangerously tilting as kernels flew.

The baby kicked in solidarity, or possibly protest, but you didn’t care. You were already bouncing, carefully, up and down in place, your bare feet hitting the floor as you cheered like there's no tomorrow.

“That’s my wife! MY WIFE!” you hollered at the TV, pointing aggressively toward the screen as if the commentators could hear you. “Look at her go! Look at those handles! Croatian queen, future MVP, love of my life!”

The next play, Nika stole the ball mid-pass and zipped down the court for a clean, easy layup.

You practically levitated.

“Oh my God—OH MY GOD, THAT’S MY GIRL,” you shouted, hands in the air like you were signaling touchdown instead of basketball. Your voice cracked, eyes watering from pure, unfiltered pride.

“Look at her, little peanut! Your mama’s a beast out there! You’re genetically destined for greatness!” you giggled, one hand rubbing your belly, the other dramatically fanning your flushed face.

Another camera close-up of Nika filled the screen, sweat on her brow, intensity written all over her sharp features, and she did the quick hand-to-lips kiss, that subtle wave. Just for you.

You stopped mid-bounce, hands flying to your chest, overwhelmed.

“Okay, I’m gonna cry,” you sniffled, wiping your face with your sleeve. “Damn hormones… damn beautiful wife… ruining me.”

It happened in the middle of the fourth quarter.

One second you were screaming at the TV, full-blown feral wife mode, popcorn everywhere, wearing Nika’s hoodie like a badge of honor—and the next?

Your brain short-circuited.

At first, you thought… maybe the soda can tipped over, or maybe you sat on an ice pack (weird).

But no.

Oh no.

You looked down. Wide-eyed. Heart racing.

“Okay… okay, that’s… not the soda…” you muttered, frozen for a solid three seconds as the reality hit you like a freight train.

Your water just broke. On the couch. During Nika’s game.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” you exclaimed, eyes darting between the TV, where Nika was mid fast-break down the court, and the absolute crisis happening in your living room.

Panic set in instantly. You couldn’t call Nika, she was literally on national TV, winning, being the love of your life and the hero of the game… she’d probably throw her whole career away if you called her mid-contraction.

“Okay, okay—best friend—call… call… CALL!” You scrambled for your phone, fingers shaking as you hit dial, pacing awkwardly around the living room in a hoodie and pajama shorts, liquid trailing with every step.

The phone rang twice before your best friend picked up, voice casual and oblivious “What’s up? Screaming at the refs again?”

You barely breathed. “My water broke.”

A beat of silence.

“…Wait, like dramatic movie scene broke? Or like, you spilled something again and you’re being extra?”

“Movie scene broke. Like, wet couch, baby coming, can’t call Nika ‘cause she’s on the court, I’m freaking the hell out—what do I do?!” Your voice cracked, eyes darting wildly to the TV, where Nika was obliviously assisting another perfect shot.

Your best friend practically choked. “Holy sh*t—okay, okay—breathe. I’m coming over. Sit your dramatic ass down, don’t move, grab your hospital bag—did you pack snacks? No, never mind, I’ll bring snacks—”

You were pacing again, half-laughing, half-crying. “I’m literally leaking on the hardwood floor, and you’re talking about snacks?!”

“Priorities! You’ll be starving after, I know you,” she shot back, already rustling around on the end of the line.

On the TV, Nika was still mid-game, fierce and flawless, no clue her wife was about to have a whole baby mid fourth-quarter.

“I swear to God if she finds out after the game, she’ll combust,” you muttered, rubbing your belly as another tiny contraction rippled through.

“Good news, you get to meet the baby,” your best friend said, already rushing out their door. “Bad news, I have to peel your dramatic, crying ass off the couch first. Stay put. I’m five minutes away.”

You exhaled, adrenaline spiking, a wild mix of fear, love, and pure chaos buzzing through you.

The final buzzer echoed through the arena, the crowd erupting as the scoreboard flashed victory. Nika’s teammates swarmed the court, hugging, high-fiving, the usual post-win chaos. But her eyes? They darted immediately to the sideline, scanning for her phone like clockwork.

You always texted right after a game, proud, teasing, some dumb flirty message that made her grin no matter how exhausted she was.

Except… nothing.

No text.

No missed call.

Just radio silence.

Her heart squeezed, nerves replacing adrenaline as she grabbed her phone from the bench. The first thing she saw wasn’t from you, it was from your best friend.

"Hey, don’t freak, but Y/N’s water broke mid-game. We’re at the hospital. Baby’s coming. She’s okay, but you should get here."

The world tilted.

Her pulse thundered in her ears, drowning out the cheers around her. Her fingers trembled, unlocking her phone again, rereading the message over and over like it might change.

“Sh*t” Nika hissed under her breath, shoving past celebrating teammates, her heart hammering so hard it hurt. She barely heard her coach congratulating her, the blinding arena lights, all she could see was the hospital’s name in the text.

She tried calling you, straight to voicemail.

Panic clawed up her chest, her mind racing with worst-case scenarios. She was supposed to be there. Holding your hand. Whispering terrible jokes while you cussed her out through contractions.

Not here. Not an arena hundreds of miles away.

Nika’s hands were shaking as she shoved her sneakers into her duffel, fingers barely working fast enough to zip the bag shut. Her heart thundered like it might crack her ribs, the text from your best friend burning into her brain “Y/N’s water broke. We’re at the hospital. Baby’s coming.”

Baby’s coming.

Her baby.

Your baby.

Too soon. Too fast.

And she wasn’t there.

“F**k, f**k, f**k,” Nika muttered under her breath, practically bulldozing her way through the locker room, ignoring confused teammates and lingering press trying to flag her down. Her jersey was half off, hoodie barely yanked over her head, and her bag thudded hard against her hip with every frantic step toward the exit.

The team manager called after her. “Hey, media’s waiting—"

“I can’t, my wife’s in labor.” Nika snapped, voice cracking, practically throwing herself into the team manager’s path. Her eyes were wild, glassy with panic. “I need to get to Seattle. Tonight. Right now. My wife—she’s—God, my wife’s having the baby"

The manager’s face fell, snapping immediately into action. “Okay, okay, breathe, Mühl. Go get changed, I’ll call the front desk. We’ll get you on the first flight out.”

But Nika was already dialing on her phone, fingers trembling, trying your number again—straight to voicemail.

“Come on, love” she whispered, pacing tight circles near the exit, her Croatian slipping out as stress twisted in her chest. Her teammates hovered nearby, concern etched across their faces, but she barely noticed.

All she could hear was the deafening silence of your missed call. All she could see was the faint mental image of you—alone, scared, pacing your living room, belly full of their child, and she wasn’t there.

Airport security blurred past her. She didn’t remember half the drive there, her duffel flung in the backseat, her game-worn shoes still dangling from her backpack, hoodie half unzipped, passport clutched tight as she bolted through LAX like a woman possessed.

The ticket agent barely had time to finish their sentence before Nika slammed her passport down on the counter. “Next flight to Seattle—emergency. My wife’s in labor—please.”

The attendant blinked at her flushed, frantic face, dark eyes wide, jersey still peeking out beneath her hoodie. “I—um—let me check—”

“Please,” Nika’s voice cracked, chest heaving. “I can’t miss this.”

The next thirty minutes were a blur of airport chaos, security lines, impatient passengers, shoving her phone in her pockets with trembling hands, jogging across the terminal, heart pounding with every wasted second.

Her phone buzzed, a text from your best friend “They’re okay. She’s strong. Baby’s taking their time. I’ll update you.”

Nika sagged against the gate wall for half a breath, shoulders shaking, relief flooding in, but it wasn’t enough.

Not until she was there.

Not until she was holding you both.

The second they called boarding, Nika nearly tripped sprinting down the jet bridge, ignoring stares from flight attendants as she collapsed into her seat, legs jittering, palms sweaty, her mind looping worst-case scenarios over and over.

The flight felt like an eternity.

Every ding of the seatbelt sign, every bump of turbulence, every minute trapped in that metal plane made her skin crawl. She scrolled through old photos of you, grinning selfies, your baby bump poking out from under her hoodie, sleepy pictures of you curled against her chest, all while biting back the sting of tears.

The moment the plane touched down, Nika shoved past rows of drowsy passengers, muttering apologies as she practically vaulted down the aisle, duffel slung over her shoulder, hair a mess, eyes bloodshot, lungs burning.

She didn’t care.

She tore through the terminal, hailed the first cab she saw, barking out the hospital address with a voice so hoarse it barely sounded human.

Every red light was agony. Every slow turn, every traffic delay made her fists clench white-knuckled against her knees.

She texted the whole way

“I’m almost there.”

“Please hold on.”

“I love you both.”

Finally, finally, the cab screeched to the curb of the hospital.

Nika threw bills at the driver, bolting through the automatic doors like a storm in sneakers and panic.

Nurses barely got a word out before she blurted, “Labor and delivery—my wife’s here—her water broke—Y/N L/N—please—”

A nurse guided her to the room, and her legs nearly gave out as she spotted you through the window, pale, exhausted, hair messy but eyes sparkling despite it all, cradling the impossibly small bundle in your arms.

Her throat closed. The world tilted. Her heart cracked and mended all at once.

She stumbled in, breathless, knees weak, eyes stinging.

“You made it,” you rasped, voice soft and teasing despite the exhaustion in your face.

Nika collapsed beside you, forehead pressed to yours, hands trembling as she touched both you and the tiny miracle between you.

“I’m here,” she choked, tears streaming freely. “I’m so f**king here.”

Nothing else mattered.

Not the game.

Not the distance.

“I love you,” she breathed, pressing kisses into your hair, your temple, your shaking shoulders. “I love you both more than anything.”

The room, the world, it all blurred. But this? You, her, the tiny miracle between you?

This was everything.

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