#because apparently you have to want the weight loss for it to count

[local-magpie]

mmmmmmmm i think i am relapsing with my eating habits and i hate it. anyone want to come make food for me so i actually eat regularly, because my stupid fucking brain is instantly more willing to eat things made for me than things i made for myself.

if i had like actual income this would be SO much easier to manage bc i could afford to a) keep a LOT more options on hand besides just snacks and b) run out to buy panic food when i cant stand the idea of anything in the house. in theory my mom would help me if i told her but like god im so sick of both having to ask her for more money and her freaking out periodically abt how much its costing her to help me with rent and food

im this close to caving and getting a job at dominos or something despite the fact that covid would probably just kill me if i caught it like this (...and that i probably am no longer physically fit for food service or retail)

[sinsofsummers]

push & pull

5.7k | din djarin x f!reader

summary: after convincing him to help you hide from the guild, you teach mando how to enjoy himself. this is the way. warnings: smut (duh), 18+, mdni. canon-typical violence, but otherwise it's super canon divergent. din is a touch-starved virgin, soft touches, lap-sitting, the helmet stays on, mask kink, din does lots of whimpering, experienced!reader, mutual masturbation, virginity loss (m), praise kink, creampie, brief aftercare at the end. note: look me in the eye and tell me he wouldn't crumble at the thought of skin-to-skin contact. yeah. you can't. anyways this is so long and so self-indulgent. pls forgive me. if mando takes his helmet off by the end of this, mind ur business this is sooooo not canon. note p.2: i'm so sorry this took so long but i was hungover. also this was not meant to be this long. so count this as a big fat thank you for 1.4k as well as my bday present to you guys (for my bday.) impaired editing i apologize.

With the light of both suns in your eyes, forcing you to blink the spots from your vision, you brushed a hand across your forehead. The dry, dusty atmosphere of Tatooine was no joke, and you scowled under the cloth you'd brought with you to cover your mouth and nose.

"Figures," you mumbled to yourself, looking down to see a small pile of sand building on the tops of your boots, the wind blowing it into place. "Why would anyone choose to live here?"

Of course, you weren't looking for a resident; you were looking for a fugitive. The infamous Mandalorion, no less. You'd been given less-than-satisfactory information on the bounty hunter and the reasons for such a high reward for his capture, but it wasn't like you had much choice than to accept the job. Despite what you told yourself, you did actually need the money.

That was before you'd figured out that everyone else in the Guild had been tasked with the same job, turning a high stakes bounty hunting gig into a near-definite suicide mission. Something you didn't want anything to do with.

But alas, here you stood, practically sinking into the hot Tatooine desert. You had to keep shifting your weight to keep at least one foot above the surface. You never knew when you'd have to make a quick getaway. There were still a handful of Guild members left that presented a challenge to collecting your bounty, and of course they were the most dangerous ones.

You kicked a foot forward and watched the sand shift, cursing the trouble that was inevitably on its way. You'd managed to bribe your way to Tatooine, where the Mandalorian was apparently hiding from the Guild. And if you had found the Mandalorian, there was almost no possibility that the others hadn't found him.

Because, if you were being honest with yourself—the one task you excelled in—being a bounty hunter wasn't exactly something you were good at. In fact, you were far from it. With luck and just enough anxiety to keep your feet moving, you'd floundered your way through three years in the Guild, searching for a way out just as quickly as you'd begged for a way in.

So you'd gotten yourself into this mess. Wasn't that how it normally went, though? Quick decision-making skills weren't necessarily a blessing if the decisions you made would determine your chances of living past thirty (spoiler: the chances were significantly slimmer).

You rubbed the dust out of your eyes once more and saw some movement in the distance, the subtle glint of beskar blinking toward you as it reflected the sunlight. Gotcha, you murmured inwardly. The Mandalorian was here, and you were going to get him. Not to turn him in, no; you held no loyalty to the Guild and its cult-like policies.

This job was an escape mission. If he could stay hidden, maybe he had room for one more. You'd cut a deal.

There had to be something you could offer him, if not your skills in combat, or stealth, or—

Or simply human mobility, you groaned inwardly as you felt your ankle roll underneath you, the sand softer than you'd anticipated. It'll be a good day when I leave this damn place.

—

It was a wonder that the two of you had survived. You'd hardly gotten the chance to give your proposal before he was aiming his blaster at you, and then at the Guild members that showed up in droves behind you. It was all you could do to get out of the way, knowing you'd be hopeless in the fight.

Now, with their bodies scattered around your feet, the Mandalorian standing a few feet from you with his chest heaving, and his beloved ship somehow still functional, you had your chance.

"You're not...very good at this," he said, the helmet masking his voice in a way that made it scratch along the insides of your ears as it traveled to your brain. "You do know that?" he asked, but it sounded more like an accidental insult than a real question.

You threw your hands up, letting them fall heavily to your sides. "Yeah, I told you that," you scoffed. "That's why I'm asking to go with you. Wherever you're headed."

His head tilted, the beskar shining in the setting suns, and you wondered what his eyes looked like under that helmet. Would they be sparkling with mirth or lined with mockery?

"I thought you were kidding," he said sheepishly, shifting his weight. "To get me to underestimate you." He looked like the picture of careful relaxation, although his blaster was still held tightly in both hands, poised in case he needed to aim and fire.

You couldn't help the exasperation in your tone as you lifted your head to the sky, squeezing your eyes shut and placing a curled fist over your eyes. "Why would I do that when I don't want to turn you in?"

He didn't answer.

"You know that there's only two ways out of this, right?" He still didn't answer you, just held his blaster taut and his head tilted to the side, so you continued. "You killed every Guild member that's left. Now it's just you and I. If I don't bring you in—which I'm not exactly dying to do—those rich fucks that are more powerful than us are gonna come find us."

"Find you," he corrected. "Why would I want to add another target to my ship?"

You shrugged. "Yeah, they probably will. But that's only part of the first option. Either they come for me, and you leave me here, and I die—also something I'm not particularly thrilled to think about—or the two of us..." you gestured with your hands to imitate the pair of you getting on the Razor Crest and flying away from Tatooine and its dusty expanse of a landscape.

"Could be a third option," he said quietly, "if you think about it." He lifted his blaster until it was lined up with your chest. "I might just kill you and cut my losses."

Fear might have struck you, but you didn't have the energy to entertain the panic unspooling in your chest. "That wouldn't be very humanitarian of you. Besides," you insisted, hands lifting to portray the image of surrender, "I'm light. I'm quiet. I won't stay with you longer than I need to. Once you get me off this planet, I'll find a place for you to drop me off."

He didn't answer for a moment.

"Literally," you pushed once more, "you can open the back door and push me out for all I care. I just want out of the Guild and all their dumb shit."

You'd known Mandalorians to be quiet, pious, and ruthless, but something about the way his helmet betrayed no hint to what he was thinking or how he might respond...it made you more anxious than you'd ever been in your life. Finally, he spoke, his voice calm. "Well...you're not coming with me. Ship's full."

"Your ship?" you said, incredulous. "That thing would be gone without me."

"Damn luck, that was." His voice had gone hard, but his body was still.

This was...partially true. Your mind flashed with a memory of the way you'd accidentally pulled the trigger on one of your blasters, effectively stunning the last Guild member who'd been attempting to strap explosives to the hull of the Crest. It was the only good thing that you'd done all day.

You curled your lip, annoyance rippling off you in waves. Lifting a middle finger in front of the helmet, you scowled. Hope he can see this under all that beskar, you snarled inwardly. "Still counts."

With a soft huff that you could hear come from under his helmet, the Mandalorian lowered his blaster. "One jump into hyperspace. The first little space rock that's big enough to stand on—"

"Perfect," you interrupted firmly. "I'll be out of you...armor...soon enough."

—

You'd missed your stop about three years ago. One jump into hyperspace had turned into four, and then ten, and...now you had your own spot to rest your head at night on the Razor Crest.

On that first day, you hadn't known the Mandalorian—"Din Djarin," he'd introduced himself reluctantly one day—was still traveling with Grogu, the sweet child that had begun his journey across the galaxy, hiding from the Guild. But you'd quickly decided it was nice to have another partner in crime, to interact with whenever Din was in the middle of one of his quiet days.

As the days had turned into months, and subsequently into years, the inability to meet Din face-to-face had become less frustrating, although sometimes you wished you could sneak a glance at his hands, or his wrists, or something that might resemble the human underneath the armor.

Once in awhile, deliciously, you could tilt your head just the right way and look forward at him when he was in the cockpit, his helmet pulling away from the cloth under his armor. Between helmet and armor, a sliver of golden skin would glimmer back at you, just begging to be touched. Of course, you never gave in to your silent desires.

This was not the Mandalorian way; you knew this well. Even when you felt his head turned toward you, even when you were sure his hands were reaching for you when you needed his help climbing somewhere, you kept your distance.

Well, for as long as you could. Until he forced your hand.

It wasn't long before you were unable to keep your hands away from him; going up and down the ladder on the Crest, or climbing over the occasional boulder on the routes you walked along when forced to take a respite on an unknown planet. His gloves were always rough in your grip, but you couldn't ignore the way his hands seemed to squeeze yours, tighter than might have been necessary.

And you'd begun letting your hands linger on the beskar of his armor for moments longer than you should—his helmet, tracing the indented curves of the spot where his cheekbones rested underneath, or on his chestplate, where you swore you could feel him lean into you, as if pressing your hands closer and closer to his skin beneath the armor.

You stood beside him as he sat in the chair in the cockpit, guiding the Razor Crest through the galaxy once more, aiming for some undisclosed location he'd neglected to tell you. He usually did things like that; you'd learned not to be offended by his unbreakable instinct to keep things to himself.

It hadn't occurred to you just how long he'd been wearing that helmet until you looked toward him again and noticed the soft curl of a few brown strands of hair that crept from the edges, kissing the back of his neck. They were short strands, but they were long enough to wink up at you as they curled around each other, begging to be touched.

"Din?" you asked, hoping to distract yourself from the thought.

He didn't look at you, but he tilted his head in your direction, just a centimeter. It was enough.

"Why'd you let me stay with you?" you gripped your hands together, as if they had a mind of their own and couldn't be trusted to remain at your sides. "I was horrible at any aspect of being a bounty hunter."

You were used to the way that it always took him a few seconds to answer, coming up with an evenly-expressed response. This, of course, gave you more time to stare at the tendrils spilling from the edges of his helmet.

"You were a risk," he admitted with a shrug, the helmet (of course) not betrayed anything. His voice was calm, even as he continued softly. "I have a particular...proclivity for picking up foundlings," he said with a tilt of his head toward Grogu, who cooed at the mention of him.

You lifted an eyebrow. "I'm not a foundling, though."

If you could have seen his eyes, you were almost positive that they'd be giving you a look that said, are you sure? Instead, he only spoke in his perpetually smooth voice. "You were lost, though, mesh'la."

You still weren't sure what each word in Mando'a meant—he'd been dropping a few words here and there, as if he knew you couldn't interpret them—but you blushed all the same. Before you knew it, your hands were releasing their grip on one another and reaching up to comb through the curls at the base of his neck.

They were softer than you'd imagined; smooth and thick in your grip. "Alright," you said gently, "maybe I was. I never got to thank you, you know."

Your hands were moving on their accord now, silently twirling the curls around the tips of your fingers. You were used to his silent, immobile exterior, so you didn't think he'd be able to feel the way you pressed your hand to the back of his neck. He'd never said anything before that gave the impression that he was aware of your ministrations, so when he leaned back into your touch then, something strong and addiction bloomed in your gut.

When he spoke, you were surprised to hear how shaky his voice was. After three years of hearing nothing but steady syllables fall from his masked lips, you nearly flinched at the stutter in his voice.

"Thank me?" he said quietly. "For..." you could have sworn you felt his heartbeat flutter rapidly in his neck when he trailed off. "For what?"

You pulled your hand away, pretending not to notice the way he shuddered at the loss of touch, his shoulders slumping as if in a pained relaxation. You hid your smirk. "You're not seriously asking that, right? Without you, I'd probably be dead by now." Or worse, you reflected with a quiet pang in your chest.

Din's response was quick this time, an unusual—but not unwelcome—surprise. "And without your perfectly timed luck, I might be without a ship." His voice was thick, trembling with something that might have sounded like desire had it been someone else speaking.

You didn't even think Din had the capacity to know something as heavy as desire. Well, not that he was incapable of feeling desire, just...you'd never thought about what he might do if he did feel it. Would he shove the temptations down, destined to die in the corners of his mind and body?

Your cheeks warmed at your next thought. Perhaps he took care of it himself in the dead of night on the Razor Crest, or on those mysteriously long patrol walks that he insisted on doing alone.

"Yeah, well..." your answer was pitiful and you knew it. But you were too busy looking at the way his body was slumped in his seat, facing forward despite every limb beginning to turn toward you, as if you were a magnetic beacon.

His fingers twitched in his gloves, angling toward you just as his knees began to do the same thing. "Will you..." he trailed off, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Mesh'la," he breathed, and he leaned to the side, as if his shoulder was chasing your touch. "Put it back."

You were going to ask what he meant, but you didn't have to. Even with his helmet on, you could practically see the pleading in his body language. Here he was, a devout Mandalorian, begging you to put your hands back on him.

"Please," he said quietly, almost a question. It sounded so unlike him that you wondered briefly if he'd been killed and replaced with an imposter. But by the way that his hand trembled as he took his focus away from flying the Crest and moved it toward you...this was Din.

"You...okay?" you asked, but you obliged his request in return, replacing your hand at the base of his neck. You watched in an unfurling dizzying sense of satisfaction as he reached up his own gloved hand to cover yours, squeezing it gently. "Din," you started, but he shook his head.

"I've never disobeyed the Way of the Mandalore," he said, his voice muffled under the mask. You strained your eyes, wishing you could see beneath the beskar. "I've never wanted to. Not before..." he brought your hand around to rest on his chestplate, and you could feel the pressure of his chest leaning into your touch. "Not before I knew what it might feel like to want someone like this."

Your eyes widened, but you didn't pull your hand away. "You...what?"

His head tilted down. "For once, I don't know how to manage this." He stood up, and suddenly he was towering over you, the cloth under his armor making your fingers itch to tear it off. "How do I manage this?"

"I..." you couldn't hide your shock. "I don't know. It's...isn't it against your religion? It's not the Way."

Din shook his head. "No, it's not." He spread his hand down your wrist and extended it toward your own chest, the leather of his glove seeping into your skin. "But I've also never told anyone my name. Never heard it spoken since I was a child."

You swallowed roughly. "So?"

He huffed a chuckle. Lifting your hands to his helmet, he let your fingers find the divots of the beskar. You didn't miss the way his chest shuddered with a stuttering breath at your touch. "So," he said, "to hell with the Way. For tonight, at least. I need to know you in every way I wish I could."

Such a harrowing request, given the circumstances. But you couldn't stop your hands from tracing the lines of his masked face. "Din..."

"Please." His voice cracked over the single syllable, and it was all you needed.

To hell with the Way, your thoughts echoed his words, and you nodded softly. "Alright," you acquiesced. With one look down, you saw the tent growing in his pants, sending a spike of desire down your spine, settling in your core. "How'll you have me?" you asked.

He let out a soft noise that sounded like a whimper. "Any way that I can," he choked out, his hand returning to your wrist and enclosing it in his grip. "I'll have you any way you'll have me."

You could hardly speak, so you didn't. With a gentle nudge, you pushed him back into his seat. When he sat back, his legs fell open; there was an inviting space between them.

Standing in the spot, just inches from his face, you stared into the black mass of his helmet, hoping you'd get a glimpse of his face. Of course, you knew he would only go as far as he wanted to. If the mask was destined to remain, then...so be it.

With your eyes on his, you moved his hands to your waist, pressing them to your skin and enjoying the feeling of his leather against your body.

He shook his head. "Take them off," he said, again with that whimpering voice. "Please."

You nodded wordlessly and shed his hands of the barriers, heat pooling in your core at the sight of long, thick fingers, his skin finally exposed to you. Returning his hands to your waist, you tilted your head back at the sensation. You were never going to forget what his skin felt against yours.

The melody of shuddering breaths that fell from his lips was unreal, and you wanted to soak up every second of it. Without more than a second thought, you slid your legs over his, straddling his hips and pressing your chest to his chestplate. His hands remained on your waist, but he let them wander, curling them around to cup your ass.

The feeling of his hands on your body made you unconsciously roll your hips forward, which released a strangled moan from his lips. "Oh, god," he mumbled. "Mesh'la, please take it off."

You paused. Your hands fell to your lap, and your eyes were wider than saucers in the reflection of his helmet. "What?"

He picked up your hands in his own, the rub of skin against skin an intoxicating intimacy. "Please," he begged. "If I'm going to touch you like this, I need to see you, cyar'ika. Nothing in the way."

You were going to argue further, but you couldn't ignore the pulsing need that was clouding your thoughts, the same need that pushed your hips further down into his lap. It was impossible to miss the way his cock twitched against your clit, eliciting a soft moan from your lips.

“Are you—”

“Don’t fuckin’ ask me if I’m sure,” he begged, and he squeezed your hips under his hands. “Never been more sure, mesh’la.”

This time it was your turn to let out a shaky breath. “Okay,” you whispered, more to bolster your own confidence than his own. His resolve was clearly rather strong in this matter, and nothing would change his mind. 

With a hand on either side of the helmet, you gently pulled it up and away from his face, hardly able to believe that he’d agreed to let you rid him of his every barrier. For a moment, as each inch of skin was revealed to you, you caught yourself frantically wondering what he might look like. 

Would he look like anyone else? Would he look familiar to you in that way that only lovers can? Or would he be hiding a deformed brow bone or an abnormally small nose or a crude smile?

Of course, you shouldn’t have even worried. When the helmet lifted off of his head and you let it fall to the floor with a hard thud, you smiled at the face that blinked back at you in wonder. With those brown strands that were just long enough to hang down over his forehead, and the matching brown eyes that twinkled with the moonlight in his pupils, Din Djarin was exquisite.

“I knew it,” you hummed, your eyes tracing every line on his face, every strand of hair that clung charmingly to his forehead. 

His response was a strangled moan, and his eyes fluttered closed of their own accord when you dragged a finger along his jaw, then the hooked line of his nose. “Knew what?”

“I knew you’d be one of the pretty ones,” you grinned, and you leaned down to press your lips to his, swallowing his groan of ecstasy.

You drank it down like the sweetest liquor, the sound pulling your own moan from your chest. His lips were chapped and dry from lack of care, but his mouth was warm and wet and his tongue was deliciously shy as he darted it towards yours. His hands stuttered as they pressed further up your chest and felt for your breasts. You weren’t sure how long he’d last; his chest was already heaving. 

“Din,” you pulled back with a grin. “Din,” you repeated when his eyes remained closed. “Thought you wanted to look at me?”

“I do,” he said, his voice choking in his throat. “I do, mesh’la, I just…I think I might come in my damn suit if I look at those lips too long.”

You cooed, letting a hand search for the roots of his hair, finding a home on his scalp. You curled your fingers in the strands and watched his eyes squeeze shut, his jaw go slack, and felt his hips buck up into yours. “You’re so sensitive, baby,” you hummed, your mind running wild with thoughts of what this could mean. 

“Never been touched like this,” he mumbled, voice cracking again. “Feels perfect, mesh’la.”

“I need you to look at me, Din,” you nodded. “It’ll keep feeling good, I promise. I just need you to look at me.”

When his eyes opened, you could have fallen apart right there at the sight of his glassy brown depths. His lip quivered and you almost thought he’d cry, but then he was letting his hand fall from your chest to your waistband, trailing his thumb along the skin there. “Can I?” he asked gently. 

Nodding, you stood up. “Just keep breathing, pretty boy,” you said softly. “I’ll make you feel good. Show you just how good it can be.” You guided his hands to your waist and let him pull your pants to your ankles, revealing the front of your glistening slit to him. 

Din was just starting to understand the drug-like effects of physical touch, so you weren’t surprised when he leaned forward, fell to his knees, and pressed his forehead to the soft skin of your stomach, breathing deeply as if he were a zealot bent to pray at the altar. 

“C’mere,” you whispered, though unable to hide the growing smirk on your face. There seemed to be nothing more addicting than the sight of the Mandalorian on his knees before you. “Sit back down for me, baby,” you said, tilting his chin up to look at you. “Take those pants off, they look awfully restricting.”

He nodded quickly and obeyed, slipping his pants down to his knees as he sat back on his chair. It was downright sinful—the beskar on his chest but his helmet removed and his cock springing free, the tip red and angry and leaking. “Please,” he begged. “I—”

“I know,” you breathed, stepping closer to him. “We’re gonna make each other feel good now, yeah?”

Din nodded once more, his eyes fluttering shut. “Please, please.”

Well, how were you going to deny him then? 

You straddled him once more, your clit throbbing at the sight of his cock underneath you. But rather than shock him with the feeling of your pussy milking him for all he was worth, you hovered over him, just enough that the head of his cock lay just an inch from your entrance. 

“Mesh’la,” he begged, “please don’t tease. I’ll be good. I’ll make you feel good, I swear to everything I’ve ever believed in—”

A finger pressed to his lips, you shook your head. “I know,” you repeated. “Deep breaths for me, Din.” 

He inhaled sharply and shoved his breath out of his chest. For a moment, his eyes cleared. 

“Good,” you encouraged him, relishing in the look of his wide eyes at the praise. “Such a pretty boy, baby.” You moved his hand to your core, guiding his fingers to your clit. “Rub little circles for me, baby. Make me feel good and I’ll make you feel good.”

He obliged quickly, rubbing tentative circles to your clit in a way that had you smiling gently, loving the sacrilege you were participating in. “Is that g—oh!”

Din’s question was interrupted by your hand reaching down to grip his cock, delivering a quick stroke and making his hips stutter. He tried his best to lift his hips from the chair, clearly aiming for your entrance, but one hand on the beskar on his chest had him sitting back. 

“It’s okay, baby,” you cooed, “just like that. Just touch me for a while.”

Ever the gentleman, Din kept his eyes on you and his hand on your pussy, pulling sweet sounds from your lips just as you wrecked him beneath you. Your thumb slid against his tip and he almost came; you could tell by the way his breath caught in his throat and his eyes squeezed shut, lip trapped between his teeth. 

You wanted his fingers to wander toward your dripping entrance, but you knew he might not last long enough for any more foreplay. Next time, you thought smugly. 

Now…now you needed him inside you. 

“Gentle, baby,” you reminded him when he gripped your hip too tightly. You didn’t want to tell him you enjoyed the near-bruising strength; that would be for another time. You could already see that you were close to losing him, and you weren’t going to end this experience without riding him until the both of you saw stars. “One more deep breath, yeah?” 

He was a mess of tumbling words in Mando’a that you didn’t understand, and his brow was furiously furrowed, as if it was taking all of his focus not to come on your hand. As a matter of fact, it probably was taking all of his focus. “Please, mesh’la,” he said again. 

You wondered briefly if you’d begin answering that now; treating it as your name. Mesh’la. 

“Deep breath, baby,” you reminded him, and when he obeyed, you sank your hips towards his. The tip of his cock slid in with no resistance; you were wetter than you’d ever been in your life. “Good boy,” you moaned as you kept your hand on his neck, softly cupping the underside of his jaw to look at you. “So fuckin’ pretty like this.”

The stretch of his cock inside you was delicious, and pleasure licked sharply at your insides, begging for a quick release. You knew he wouldn’t be able to hold himself together much longer based on the whimpers that still crumbled from his throat, broken and jagged. 

“So fuckin’ pretty?” he repeated, his voice a high squeak. He gripped your hips and threw his head back. “So fuckin’ pretty for you?”

Your breath rushed out of your chest in a strong blow and you had to take a deep breath yourself to calm down. “All for me, Din, that’s it,” you continued, and you lifted your hips up. Dropping them back into his lap, you soaked up the feeling of being filled so completely by his cock. With every shred of patience left in your body, you pushed your lips back to his and tasted his moans on his tongue. 

His hips began lifting into your own, the only clue you’d get to his desperation for more. Without a word, you began moving faster, more rhythmically, as you bounced gently on his cock. With the base of his cock pulsing against your clit at every drop of your hips, you were approaching that edge quicker and quicker. “Din,” you moaned, “baby, I’m gonna—”

“Please,” he said, “I want you to feel good, mesh’la. Use me, please, use me, please…”

You were sure your brain short circuited. With no more patience left in your bones, you picked up the pace and chased your own orgasm, knowing he wasn’t far behind. With every squelch of your pussy on his cock, your moans became less coherent, and you leaned your head forward against his neck. 

Pulling back to press a kiss to his jaw, you felt his loins tense beneath you. Something nearly snapped inside you at the sound and sight and sensation of his pleasure so close to release; at the knowledge that it was you who had done this to him. “Good,” you mumbled against his jaw, getting closer to his ear. “Pretty boy, just for me,” you mumbled. 

Din’s chest tightened and his moans became longer and more high-pitched, true whimpers if you’d ever heard one. “Mesh’la,” he begged, “Mesh’la, I—”

You dipped your head down and, while grinding your hips back and forth on his cock at a feverish pace, you darted your tongue out to his neck. Licking a stripe from the crevice of his neck to the spot just behind the soft part of his ear, you groaned in his ear as you crumbled on him, releasing the tension in your body as you came hard.

Din was ruined beneath you, with his neck bobbing and his eyes shut, his head thrown back. Mouth opened in a wide moan, his voice broken over the sound, you felt his release sink into your fluttering walls. He let out a deep cry of words that you didn’t recognize, but you blushed all the same. With the way that his eyes glossed over when he said it, you were sure it was something that reeked of sin and sweat and sacrilege. 

“So good,” you mumbled again, “you’ve done so good for me, Din.” Your face tucked itself into the crook of his neck, and you inhaled the heady scent that belonged only to him. You sat motionless on his lap, but you could still feel his head pulse inside you at the overstimulation. “Did that feel good?” you asked, your hand reaching up to smooth down his hair comfortingly.

He let out a breathless laugh. “If this is sin, I’ll want more of it,” he replied, his arms snaking around your middle to tug your chest closer to him. “I’ll never know how to thank you,” he finished, sighing deeply. His eyes twinkled at you when you pulled away to look at him. 

You shook your head. “No need,” you assured him. “Just catch your breath, brave Mandalorian. Then we’ll talk.”

He nodded, his eyelids growing heavier with the expense of energy now catching up with him. His cock had grown soft inside you, but he made no move to lift you from him. “I did well?” he asked. This wasn’t surprising; you’d known him to be quietly confident, but the Mandalorian was never one to pass up the opportunity for someone to reassure his talents.

You grinned and leaned forward to press your lips to his hooked nose, fighting the urge to nip at it with your teeth. Next time, you reminded yourself. “You did well,” you nodded. “Feeling okay?”

He splayed his hands on your back and inhaled near your chest, his face buried into the soft skin of your breasts. “Never better,” he reassured you, rubbing his hands along your spine. “So sweet to me, baby,” he murmured, repeating your own affection back to you. 

The two of you remained like that, just wrapped together in a mess of limbs and sweat and come mingling together. When he began to wince with the overstimulation, you lifted off of his cock but remained in his lap. You pulled back and leaned your forehead against his. You watched his lips, plump and sitting perfectly, waiting to be kissed again. 

“What does mesh’la mean?” you asked instead, the word strange and unfamiliar on your tongue.

He looked at you for a long time, bringing a finger up to trace the line of your mouth. “Put your lips on mine again and I’ll teach you,” he offered casually, as if his pupils weren’t still blown wide, his eyelashes still fluttering from the power of his release. 

You smirked. “This is the Way, huh?”

For once in his life, Din Djarin smiled at you. “This is the Way.”

tysm for reading! so glad to be back, i'm sorry if the smut scene seemed rushed and out of pace! again: i was hungover. pls forgive. lemme know what you think!

adding tags here cause i'm going grocery shopping at 8:30pm BYEEEE

this is a good morning fic for @thetriumphantpanda and the aftercare bit at the end was specifically for @cavillscurls i know u crave it girl

the rest of the taggies: @mingiast @iluvurfather @cupofjoel @morning-star-joy @darkroastjoel @tightjeansjavi @chaotic-mystery @dinsdjrn @huffle-punk @tommymilllers @milly-louise @struig @butiknewyoudlinger @alejaa-a @worhols @thegreat-annamaria @easaud @country2212 @sleepdeprived-feelalived @pertinentpostmortem @lailaispunk

[luxuourr]

WHEN YOU know LOA AND FEEL FAT/SKINNY/INSECURE.

currently made this post for me and everyone who has these issues

I've got alot of trauma , growing up as the chubby cute baby became taunts and mockery, i never looked fat and ugly and anything like this , I was always admired everywhere for my body except at my house and over the years it's become my trauma, my mom being a psychologist and still not realizing her solutions from the internet, telling me my leptin hormone is shit,my metabolism is so slow or I have PCOS as an intersex it never made sense, she never did make any sense and I know some people in this community have been struggling and are struggling with weight loss since for years. I have come across this manifesting coach, most of y'all know called electrasoul and for context they struggled with body image issues and weight loss too until it clicked in their mind. Those are some of the most important points I made you'll love. You will fall in love with this guys.

SHE DID NOT CHANGE HER DIET, YOU DONT HAVE TO EITHER.

"WTF that's not true, impossible, nah you need to count your calories and workout to loose weight , ain't no way my lifestyle doesn't have to change and brain needs to be controlled", so it really works like that. First of all this drill of changing diets and workouts that has been draining us people who wanna loose weight has been going on since we have been mature, the biggest enemy of our weight has been our own parents, if you're skinny, you're too skinny. if you're healthy, you're too healthy but you now need to find yourself a balance but it'll only come if you're a LOA person and finally have the will to loose weight, throw logic and society's diets and workouts out rn , if you're too tired for that , you don't need it. The brain is the strongest part of your body because it's capable of doing things you'd never imagine.

KNOWING AND STATE

first you need to know what you want, so you wanna gain or loose weight , or you want a healthy weight? ok did you choose what you want now let's proceed.

all your life they told you to eat less otherwise you'd be overweight and eat more to gain weight but sometimes underweight people genuinely eat enough or don't like eating and don't gain weight and sometimes people who are overweight barely eat at all, it's just their mind " oh I drink water and gain weight " ofc bro you really drilled it in your mind to be this way. The essential step is that don't look for logic. Law of assumption was made to remind you nevillie didn't need knowledge to marry the woman of his dreams and you don't need logic or calories In the world of law of assumption where you made rules. ARE CALORIES EVEN REAL, IS DIETING SOMETHING WHEN YOU ARE GOD?? YOU'RE CREATING THIS ALL THEN WHY ARE YOU LISTENING TO OTHER HUMANS AND THEIR BS WHEN ITS YOUR LIFE.

dieting and workouts is for the weak, the true mind power lies in you, it is now your choice to turn your weaknesses into strengths, It is now your choice to eat food knowing you're gonna loose and reach your body goals with it. So apparently the best way and a good example of this , that you will understand what I mean is, you can still eat food staying naturally in the state or affirming.

calories are nothing to me in my life

eating makes me loose / gain weight

no matter what I do, I have my dream body

my metabolism is slow/fast ( if you wanna loose or gain weight )

No matter what I eat, whatever i do, however I eat, binge or die and cry or spiral, I have to gain / loose weight

this is literally my world so I have decided and have my ideal body and weight.

These are the examples of simple affirmations you can use to persist, even while eating.

DONT COUNT YOUR CALORIES

if you truly believe in LOA stop counting calories , calories is a man made thing , bro who tf even found out about something that you can't see, do fruits grow and are labelled low or high cals? did they experiment people for fat or thin, to find out that?? nahh bffr ☹️ giving the control of your life to some dumbass calories scientists made. We don't believe in that. Girl you're just having a maintained body for the rest of your life no matter what ✊🏻

IT IS YOUR CHOICE

whether you can start affirming and assuming and knowing that you're at your ideal weight , food makes you loose or gain weight or tire yourself with diets and workout if you're already tired from every aspect of your life.

for someone struggling with PTSD AND DEPRESSION

This is an honest advice, goodluck loosing/gaining weight/ getting your ideal body.

you don't have to stop all those sugary stuff and things want, just assume you can do this. ✊🏻🌹

[writingonleaves]

got lovestruck, went straight to my head (got lovesick all over my bed) - nico hischier

universe: nico hischier x clementine sandoval (the blue au)

warnings: swearing, mentions of stuff you'd typically see in the hospital (death, etc), author has never been to switzerland (but wants to!!), fluff! angst if you squint

title: "slut!" by taylor swift

word count: 23k (originally 27k but had to be cut down bc tumblr apparently has a limit of blocks per post??? lol)

author's note: long anticipated (official) part two to this little ditty. takes place pretty much right where the first part left off and goes until january 2025. i love clem. i love clem and nico. i love this whole world, and it loves all of you right back. thanks for all the love, truly. it means so much. here are some more slice of life moments that will probably rot your teeth because they're so sweet! enjoy and please let me know your thoughts!!

~*~*~

Devils fans love Nico Hischier, Clementine realizes, as she waits in a cafe across the back entrance of The Rock, looking outside as Nico takes the time to sign things and take pictures with the fans.

To some extent, after being in Jersey for a full season now, she knows how adored he is — the multitude of 13 jerseys during every game and how she has never heard a single bad thing said about him, whether that be as a person, captain or player. But right now, she’s smiling as he thanks the fans for their support when she knows he was devastated less than 48 hours prior. 

This team, their fans and this community love their captain. They’d go to the ends of the world for him, she’s convinced. 

She feels her phone buzz in her pocket. She pulls it out with a smile. 

Nico Hischier 

Meet me at my car in 5 mins? ❤️

She smiles, just liking the text before slinging her bag over her shoulders, grabbing her half finished coffee and going back to the counter to order a cappuccino for Nico. She thanks the barista when he’s done, grabs the cappuccino and goes back down to the parking garage. 

Nico’s leaning against his car on his phone, but puts it away when he sees her walking to him. She shuffles over quickly and gives him a quick kiss. She doesn’t think she’ll get used to that. 

“Hi.” 

“Hey.” The fondness tinged at the short greeting isn’t new, Clementine knows now, but it makes her smile all the same. “Thanks for the coffee. Sorry I took so long,” he says, taking his coffee and opening the passenger door. 

“You’re good,” she slides in and waits for him to get to the driver’s seat. “You doing alright?”

He starts the engine and looks over at her with a soft smile. “Yeah.”

“You sure?”

He reaches over to give her thigh a comforting squeeze after backing out. ‘I’m sure. I promise. Play some music.”

“Do you even like my music?”

“I listen to anything. You know that.”

She chuckles, plugging in her phone. “They love you.”

“Hm?”

“The fans. I was watching outside the windows of the cafe.”

He shrugs. “They’re always great. Have been good to me since I came into the league and have stuck by us.”

She looks at him thoughtfully. “They also have nothing but respect for their captain, who led them through the season extraordinarily well despite all the downs.” She leans her head on his arm for a few seconds. “I know it’s hard, but try not to blame yourself too much. You can’t and shouldn’t carry all that weight. The boys know that. The fans know that.”

He nods and looks over at her with a smile. “Gotten good at that throughout the years, hey? Comforting people after big losses.”

“Tell me about it.” She thinks back to when Quinn and Jack lost the gold medal match in 2019 at World Juniors and both times Luke’s dream of winning a national championship with Michigan fell short. And those are just the ones she can think of off the top of her head. “I’m serious though. It’ll come for you guys. I know it will.”

“Thanks, Schätzli.” Oh. That’s also a new development. The first time it slipped out, Nico had almost taken it back with wide, panicked eyes. But Clementine had promptly pulled him down to kiss her. 

The team all chipped in to rent out a rooftop bar in Tribeca tonight to celebrate their season, the multitude of birthdays that occurred during the last part of the season that they couldn’t really celebrate at the time, and to just hang out before people start dispersing for the off-season. Therefore, Clementine purposefully volunteered for the overnight shift the day before and took a four hour nap before she tagged along to locker cleanout. She hid out in the cafe while they all had to do their end-of-season duties.

But they have a few hours to kill before heading into Manhattan, so the new couple spend the afternoon at Liberty State Park, enjoying the rare instance since the night of their first kiss where they’ve both been free. Clementine’s packed a small cooler with some tiny sandwiches, fruit and small bottles of wine. Nico lays out a blanket and Clementine toes off her sandals. It’s beautiful outside, and after she’s done munching on the food, she finds herself laying her head in Nico’s lap as he plays with her hair, talking about everything and nothing. Occasionally he just leans down to place a kiss on her forehead or cheek and she feels her throat closing up everytime at the sweetness of the gesture. 

They have limited time before Nico heads back home to Switzerland. She’ll take all the moments she can get.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Uh oh,” she jokes. “Should I be nervous?”

“No, no, no. It’s just..maybe a bit of a weird question.”

“Nico. I deal with kids on a daily basis. And other residents who have no sense of boundaries. And Jack and Luke where all social cues are nonexistent. Almost nothing fazes me at this point.”

“Well, of course I’ve seen you around Jack and Luke so I know what your relationship is like with them. But how are you with Quinn?”

“Huh. Why do you ask?”

Nico twirls a piece of her hair around his finger. “They’ve mentioned a couple of times how I remind them of Quinn sometimes, which you know, I think is a compliment. I respect Quinn a lot as a player and he did a great job captaining that team this year. But, I don’t know. I’m just curious.” 

Clementine smiles easily. “Luke’s my baby and Jack’s like the most annoying little brother you could ask for, but yeah. Quinn is..he’s also like a little brother, but he’s also my best friend. I think Quinn and I are the most similar in terms of how we think. So I guess that leads to a sense of…understanding? Like, on a different level than with Luke and Jack. And if you think I’m protective of Jack and Luke, I’m probably even worse with Quinn. He’s just always so busy looking after the other two that he sometimes forgets he needs to look out for himself too.”

“Then who looks after you?”

“Hm?”

“If you’re busy looking after those three, who looks after you?”

She sits up as he lets her hair fall from his fingers. She plops a strawberry in his mouth. “I don’t need anyone to look after me.”

“Those three don’t need anyone to look after them.” He points out. 

“Lies. You think Luke and Jack are annoying now? They were ten times worse before. And you think Luca and Nina don’t still feel a responsibility to look after their little brother? I haven’t even met them and I think I know the answer.” She shrugs, hooking her chin on his shoulder. “I don’t mind, really. They also, in a way, look after me as well, especially as we’ve gotten older. But I don’t think I answered your question. I guess you’ll have to see Quinny and I together and see for yourself.”

He hums, kissing her forehead twice. “You gotta take some time to look after yourself too. You’re no use to them if you don’t.”

“I know. I think I’ve managed the balance well. And you’re partially right. I don’t need to look after them as much anymore, especially since now Quinny has a girlfriend who I still haven’t met and you look after Jack and Luke plenty.”

Nico snorts. “I’m sure you’ll get to meet Quinn’s girlfriend this summer.”

“If the fucker answered my calls, that would be a start,” she says. “Are you all packed to go yet?”

“Not at all.”

He literally leaves in two days. “God, you all really are the same breed. I bet I could pack all your shit in an hour. Maybe even less.”

He smirks. “Is that a challenge?”

“No. Pack your own stuff. You’re a grown man.”

He laughs, and they switch positions. Now his head is in her lap and she’s running her hand through his hair. She’s still learning things about Nico, but she’s pretty sure that he likes her playing with his hair more than she likes him playing with hers. He clears his throat. “And, um, I don’t need to pack yet. I’m staying in Jersey a bit longer.”

“Yeah? How much longer?”

“Like, June 7? So what is that..three weeks?”

She blinks. “Nico, I don’t-”

“This has nothing to do with you,” he says, before grimacing. “That’s not what I mean. It actually has a lot to do with you. But it was my choice. I’m in no rush to get back, in terms of training and all that. Plus, a bunch of the guys are staying for a bit too. And I want to spend time with you, because I do have…what did you say? ‘Impeccably shit timing.’”

“I just want to make it clear that you don’t have to stay just for me,” she assures softly. “I know you miss home and I understand the importance of an off season.”

He looks up at her earnestly, “Spending time with you is also important to me.”

Her heart soars as she traces his lips with her thumb. He catches her hand and kisses her knuckles. “Well, I’m not gonna complain about that.”

The rooftop bar that night is a fun time, even if she feels very much out of her tax bracket. She chats with pretty much everyone, much more comfortable than she was at the start of the season. People egg her on to share childhood stories of Jack and Luke, which she has plenty of. And even if they both groan and act embarrassed, she knows they love it. The drinks are plentiful and she likes seeing everyone let loose the way they can’t during the season. She’s sure the team is still disappointed from their season to some extent, so it’s nice to see them all smile and laugh and generally have a good time. 

At some point in the night, she’s sitting by herself for some space, admiring the skyline with a ginger ale in her hands, taking a break from the alcohol she’s consumed tonight. 

“Social butterfly finally tired out?”

She looks up to see Jack, cheeks flushed and hair adorably tousled, staring down at her. She scooches over to offer him a seat. “A bit. It just hit me that I’m running on four hours of sleep.”

He snorts, sitting down. “Yeah, that’ll do it.” He tucks himself into her side like he used to do as a kid, taking her arm and using it as a pillow. “We still on for dinner tomorrow? Just me, you and Lukey?”

“Of course. I gotta get my fix in before you all leave me to hang with all your friends.”

Jack shoves her lightly. “We’re literally staying in Jersey until the end of the month. Or the Northeast, at least.”

“Okay, and Trevor literally flies in in two days. And then you and Luke’s friends are gonna rotate in and out. I’ll be lucky if I get a second of quiet at the apartment.”

Jack laughs, but then a worried look crosses his face. “I told them that under no circumstance can they enter your room without your permission. I don’t want them being here to fuck up your schedule.”

She waves him off. “It’s fine, Jack. I promise. Besides, I’ll just hide out at Nico’s if I need. Did he tell you that he’s staying a bit longer?”

His smirks. “He did. Mom invited him to spend the long weekend with us up in New Hampshire.”

“He didn’t mention that.”

“Probably because I literally just told him an hour ago when Mom texted me. You know this means he’s gonna be meeting Maeve, right?”

She blinks. “Shit, yeah. A bit soon, no?”

To her surprise, instead of agreeing or making fun of her, Jack just shrugs. “I don’t think so. You and Nico are the real deal.”

Her mouth drops open a bit in shock. “Oh.” 

Jack just shoots her an award-winning grin. “And Maeve is gonna love him.”

That, Clementine thinks, is most definitely true,

As they drive home, she’s in the passenger seat with Luke and Jack in the back, quietly dozing off. Nico’s hand is on her thigh as she’s queuing songs up on her phone. Even after living in the city for almost a year now, she still finds herself in awe at the NYC skyline, especially on the rare chance she gets to see it from the angle of leaving the city in a car this late. Her attention is brought elsewhere when she feels a squeeze on her thigh. She looks at Nico and smiles. 

(It’s hard to not smile when she looks at Nico)

“You have fun?” He asks softly, careful not to disturb the brothers in the back. 

“Lots,” she responds. “Thanks for having me.”

“Of course,” he says. “I think there would have been an uproar if you hadn’t come. Everyone loves having you around.”

“Jack told me you’re invited to Memorial Day weekend celebrations in New Hampshire.”

“Yeah. It was sweet of Ellen to invite me. It’ll be fun to experience a classic summer weekend out here.” He suddenly looks at her, worried. “That’s okay, right? I don’t wanna intrude.”

“What? Of course it’s fine. It’s gonna be a chill weekend with good food and a lot of sun. You know you’re gonna be meeting my mom, right?”

“Is that a problem? Moms usually like me. Ellen likes me, I think.”

Clementine rolls her eyes. “No, I just, as long as you know.”

Nico looks over at her. “Your mom’s clearly important to you and raised a beautiful woman. I’m excited to meet her.” She swallows roughly. Nico changes topics easily. “Have you figured out your plans for the summer? How much vacation time do you have?”

“Not much. Maybe, like, two weeks at most. I’m still trying to figure it out. The boys invited me to Michigan, which would be fun. I haven’t been back there for a bit. Some of my friends from med school are going to meet back up in California at some point.”

“Two very different options.”

“Yeah. I probably need to figure it out soon though so I can request the leave.”

“Have you thought about Switzerland?”

She’s looking out her window, so she doesn’t see the hesitant but honest look on his face. “Showing me your hometown already, Cap?” She jokes

“If you want.” She whips her head to look at him. Oh. He’s serious. He backtracks. “I-I get if you think it’s too soon, but you’ve mentioned that you wanna go back. And I could show you around. Or we could go to other places in Europe too. I-I feel bad that I’m about to leave when we haven’t gotten quality time together which I know is partially my fault-”

She pushes her chin into his arm, looking up at him as he briefly looks down at her before focusing back on the road. “You’d be okay with that? Me coming to your hometown?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“We just started dating officially..what, like a month ago? Not even?” She looks to the backseat to ensure that Jack and Luke are still asleep, or are at least faking it to give them some sort of privacy. They are. She turns back around. “I don’t…I just don’t want you to feel like you- I-you’re really important to me,” she admits with a swallow. “I don’t wanna mess it up by moving too fast.”

“You’re not messing anything up,” Nico takes her hand and kisses the back of it. “I’m not gonna push you. It’s ultimately your decision. But I would absolutely love to show you around where I grew up and spend more time together.”

“Can I think about it?”

“Of course,” he assures. “Take all the time you need.”

She leans to kiss his cheek. 

…..

“Switzerland?” Luke practically screeches. “To introduce you to his family?”

Clementine rolls her eyes, sliding him a glass of orange juice across the counter. Trevor giggles into his coffee and without looking, she smacks the back of his head. 

“Switzerland because it’s beautiful and to spend time with my boyfriend,” Clementine says pointedly. 

“Go frolic in Europe with your new boyfriend,” Trevor grins. “You deserve it. Jacky tells me you’re barely home.”

“I’m trying to become a doctor, Trev. I signed up for not having a life.”

“Exactly, which is an even better reason to go visit your hot boyfriend in Europe.” Jack and Luke give their old friend a weird look. Trevor just shrugs. “What? Your captain’s a good looking guy, and you’re delusional if you think differently.”

“I don’t care if Nico is the hottest person in the world. He’s kissing my sister. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that.” Luke says with a wrinkled nose. 

Jack chuckles, ruffling his little brother’s hair. “Well, get used to it, Moose. And it’s kinda our fault. I mean, we’re the ones who wanted this all season. It’s fucking hilarious that they decided to start a relationship when they did though.” He comes up behind Clementine and pokes her side, rinsing his plate before putting it in the dishwasher. “Z’s right. You should go. Even if that means you wouldn’t be able to come to Michigan.”

“Aw, Clemmy’s missing the Michigan trip again?” Trevor whines. “Nevermind. Fuck your boyfriend.”

“I haven’t been to Michigan in three years so I don’t know what you’re whining about,” Clementine snorts. “And you can’t get rid of me that quickly. Especially because I, you know, live here and y’all are going to be around for who knows how long.” She taps Trevor’s phone on the counter to check the time. “Alright, I gotta head to the hospital. See you guys later.”

“Bye!”

“Love you.”

“See you tonight? What time will you be back?”

“11? Midnight the latest,” she grabs her pasta salad lunch from the fridge into her tote bag. “Have fun. Call if you need me. The usual.”

“Be safe,” Jack calls out. She clicks the door shut. 

Her phone buzzes in her hand. She laughs out loud. 

Quinny Hughes

Heard you’re going to Switzerland? 

She rolls her eyes. It’s nice to know the brothers’ group chat is still as active and rapid as ever.

Clementine Sandoval 

all three of you are actually the worst

and i’m older than all of you don’t be trying to parent me

Quinny Hughes

So you are going. 

At least get us some good chocolate then.

Clementine Sandoval

lol i miss you

did you ever figure out if you’re coming to nh for memorial day?

it’s literally in two days i hope you have an answer

Quinny Hughes

Yeah I am. Especially now that you aren’t coming to Michigan this summer. Jack and Luke get to see you all the time it’s my turn.

And I’ll get to interrogate your new boyfriend.

Clementine Sandoval

sigh 

are you at least bringing lauren

Quinny Hughes

Yup.

Clementine Sandoval 

fantastic

finally another fucking girl

Quinny Hughes

Lol. See you soon❤️

Clementine smiles before starting her car. 

…..

Two days later, Jack, Luke, Trevor, Nico and Clementine pile into Jack’s car to head up to the Hughes family’s lakehouse to spend the long weekend. She lets Luke have the passenger seat because it’s a five hour drive and he has the longest legs. Additionally, she finds great amusement in seeing Nico and Trevor interact and getting to sit in the middle of them and put her head on Nico’s shoulder and her legs over Trevor’s lap. Though, with Trevor’s constant yapping, Nico’s surprisingly unhinged stories, Jack’s loud laughter and Luke’s tendency to make a comment on everything, the drive goes by so damn slow that by the time they roll into the driveway, Clementine is practically shoving Trevor to get out of the car.

At the front door, Ellen’s laughing and Clementine rushes over to her second mother to give her a big hug. 

Ellen rocks her back and forth. “It’s so good to see you, my girl.”

“You literally saw her three weeks ago?” Jack says, coming up behind them.

“Hide your jealousy better, Jacky,” Clementine teases. “It’s always good to see you, Ellen.” Jim comes up behind his wife and she beams. “Hi Jimmy!”

He laughs, wrapping her in a fatherly hug. “Hi Sunshine. El made sangria for everyone, and it’s still cold.”

Clementine lights up. “Oh amazing. I’ll grab a glass after I get my stuff.” She turns around to see Nico coming up the stairs with both his and her bags in his hands. 

A knowing smile appears on Jim’s face. “Think that’s already covered.” She rushes to help him out but Nico just swats her away. Jim nods at Nico. “Good to see you again, Nico.”

“Good to see you too, Mr. Hughes,” he puts his bags down to shake Jim’s hand and hug Ellen, as Jack, Luke and Trevor clamber into the house. “Thank you both so much for having me.”

“Anytime, Nico!” Ellen beams. “And please, call us by our first names. You’re family, especially after recent developments.” 

Clementine rolls her eyes as Nico immediately becomes flustered. “Really? Mom’s not even here yet.”

“Oh can you blame me, Clementine? Now I don’t have to hear Jack and Luke whine about when their sister and captain are going to get together.” Ellen says. “But I’ll be cool for now. Why don’t you show Nico up to your room and drop all your stuff off? Your mom picked up Quinn and Lauren from Logan and should be here any minute. Boys!” She calls out and Jack, Luke and Trevor magically appear and Clementine rolls her eyes. “Take your stuff up to your rooms so no one trips over your things. Trevor and Jack, you’re sharing.”

Trevor turns to Jack with a kissy face and Jack grimaces. “You and me, Jacky boy! Just like old times.”

“Get the fuck away from me,” Jack says dryly as Luke chuckles. Jack glares at his younger brother. “How come you get a solo room?”

“Because Quinn and Lauren are getting the other room.”

“And where is Maeve staying?”

“Probably in the basement so she doesn’t have to deal with all you guys.” Clementine retorts. 

Jack turns to his parents. “You’re letting Clee and Nico share a room? And Quinn and Lauren?”

“We’re adults, you know?” Clementine sighs, pinching her nose. “You guys are exhausting. Move out of my way so we can get through.” She hears Nico stifle a laugh as they reluctantly clear a pathway. “Somehow they’re even more annoying during off-season than during the season,” she says as they climb up the stairs.

“It’s fine,” Nico chuckles. “It’s nice. The chaos, I mean. Tells a lot about who you are.”

“Don’t associate me with those fools,” Clementine says with no heat as she pushes open the door to the room in this house that’s always been designated as hers. “Here we are.”

Nico puts the bags down and immediately scans some of the photos framed on the wall. He ‘aww’s and she turns around to find him staring at the one of her and the boys during her UCLA graduation. “You guys are such babies here.”

“A week before Jack got drafted,” Clementine recalls fondly. “The boys surprised me. I didn’t think they were gonna come because they had so much hockey stuff going on.”

“You went to all their drafts, right?” Nico says. Clementine nods. “So of course they were there during one of your biggest moments.” Nico points to another photo of both families when they were all at this exact lake house. Her dad’s in this one. “When was this taken?”

“2013.” Clementine smiles sadly. “It was the last summer my dad came here. I know it’s one of Ellen’s favorites. Mine too.”

Nico hums, kissing her temple gently before scanning the rest of the room. It’s mostly white with some rustic elements, splashes of tan and ocean blue in the comforter and the sparse decorations.  “Would I be right in assuming that this room hasn’t changed much since you were young?”

“It’s definitely cleaner,” Clementine laughs. “I know Jim and El use it as a guest room, but whenever I get the chance to come back, they say it’s mine.” There’s the sound of the front door opening and a cacophony of greetings floating through the room. She turns her body towards him and looks up at him. “Are you sure about this?”

“Well, even if I wasn’t, it’s a bit too late now, isn’t it?” He says. She pokes him in the side. He leans down to gently peck her lips twice. “Why are you so nervous? Shouldn’t I be the one who’s nervous?” 

She chuckles. “Yeah, yeah. You’re right. Let’s go down.”

They walk down the stairs, Nico close behind her but not quite touching her. Clementine beams as she watches her mom hug Luke and put her hands on his cheeks before greeting Jack in the same way. She knows her mom doesn’t ever miss seeing the Devils or the Canucks when they’re playing the Bruins in Boston, but that only totals to usually only three games a season. 

Clementine thinks a lot about how she sees Jim and Ellen as her parents. It’s during these moments does she remember that the boys see her mom the exact same way. 

Maeve’s eyes flit up to the stairs and she raises an eyebrow. “My beautiful daughter. You look exhausted.”

Clementine snorts. “Thanks, Mom.” She descends down the last step and hugs her mother tightly, breathing in the scent that has comforted her on the best and worst days. She catches Quinn’s eye over Maeve’s shoulder as Trevor is chatting in his ear and she can’t help but grin. 

Maeve pulls away and eyes Nico, a half smile on her face. “And you must be the infamous Nico.”

Nico chuckles, eyes widening momentarily as Maeve pulls him into a hearty hug. “It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Sandoval.”

Maeve lets out an affronted noise. “None of that. Call me Maeve. You European boys and your politeness.” Clementine laughs under her breath. “It’s so nice to meet you! My daughter hasn’t mentioned how handsome you are.”

“Probably because she’s the one carrying in the looks department of the relationship.” Nico grins charmingly and Clementine feels so fucking fond.

She then begins to leave her boyfriend and her mom to converse and turns to Quinn. Time with Quinn is always scarce. She leans up to wrap her arms around his neck. “Hey Q.”

“Hey Clem.” 

Clementine turns to the beautiful girl next to him. “And you must be Lauren. It’s nice to finally meet you.” She also pulls the girl into a hug. “Quinn’s been keeping you away from me.”

Quinn shoots his older sister a dirty look. “That’s not true. It’s not my fault you don’t live in California any more.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Lauren says softly. “Quinn’s told me so much about you. I love your pants.”

Clementine looks down at her cream flowy pants with a wide smile. “Oh thank you! You’re gorgeous. How in the world did Quinn land you?”

Lauren laughs as Quinn groans. “Clem.”

“I’m kidding!” She ruffles his hair. “Damn, let me have my fun. I don’t get to do this often. And don’t pretend that you’re not about to grill Nico this entire weekend.”

“She’s got you there,” Lauren says with a laugh.

Trevor comes up inbetween the girls. “Have you met this one yet?” Clementine asks.

Lauren nods. “I have. Kinda. Hi Trevor. Quinn’s also told me a lot about you.”

Trevor’s eyes widen as he pulls Lauren into a side hug. “Never listen to anything Quinn says about me. He’s mean to me.”

“You guys are all mean to each other,” Clementine rolls her eyes. “I don’t know what point you’re trying to make.” 

Maeve claps her hands. “Out of the doorway and into the backyard, everyone! El made sangria and it’s too nice to be inside.” She picks up her bags but is swatted away by Luke, who takes the bags from her hands. Maeve kisses him on the cheek. “Thanks, honey.”

Jack rolls his eyes as they all start walking towards the kitchen. “We get it, Maeve. Luke is your favorite.” Ellen gives him a warning look as Quinn snorts. 

“You know,” Maeve starts. “I was about to tell you how glad I am to see you. But with that comment, I’ll abstain.” Jack pouts and Maeve rolls her eyes but messes up his hair fondly. 

Nico places his hand on Clementine’s back and leans down to mutter in her ear. “I see where you get your sass from.”

Clementine chuckles under her breath. “You gotta have some sass to deal with them. My mom’s the blueprint.”

Everyone grabs a glass of sangria before they migrate outside. Clementine finds herself sitting in between Lauren and Luke, Nico sitting by her legs with everyone else in various chairs or on the grass in some sort of circle. Clementine automatically carding her fingers though Nico’s hair as she speaks to Lauren and Quinn. She still can’t believe they’ve been dating for over a year and she’s only met Lauren now. 

If she was still in California, she would’ve flown her ass to Vancouver and parked herself at Quinn’s apartment at the first chance she had. 

While she’s listening in on a conversation between Nico, Quinn and Trevor, she catches both her mom and Ellen’s eyes on her. She narrows her eyes. She sees her mom not-so-subtly eyeing her hand in Nico’s hair and him leaning back against her legs. 

Jack notices, looking between the two of them with a smirk. “Thoughts, Maeve?”

“Jack,” Clementine says in a warning tone. Nico squeezes her ankle in reassurance. 

“I didn’t even say anything!” 

Maeve chuckles, and Clementine sees her smile, the same smile that everyone says she also has. “Nothing in particular. Just thinking about how fun your time in Jersey has probably been so far.”

Clementine bites her lip, closed lipped-smile threatening to burst through the seams. “It could be worse.” 

As expected, Jack rolls his eyes and Luke gives her a dirty look. “Well, what could make it better?” Luke asks. 

“If you guys cooked more for me.”

Quinn looks at his brothers with a disapproving look. “You’re making Clem cook for all of you? Guys, come on. She’s busier than all of us combined.”

Jack’s jaw drops wide open as Trevor cackles. “That’s not even true! We cook for you. Just not as much because you’re just a better cook. And you always have leftovers.” Jack reaches over to whack Clementine’s shoulder. “Stop making us look like bad roommates.”

Clementine chuckles to herself. She has a lot of favorite things in life, but making fun of her brothers and throwing them under the bus has to be at the top. 

Nico looks up at her and she has to stop herself from leaning down and kissing him silly. “That cake you baked me for my birthday is still the best dessert I’ve had in awhile.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re just being nice. And, I baked another one for Jack and Luke, which circles back to my point.”

Ellen starts lightly scolding her two youngest for not cooking more and Clementine snickers as she feels Nico’s shoulders shake as he’s trying to hold back his laugh. She drops his hands from his hair and instead leans forward, wrapping her arms loosely around his neck. He automatically grabs her wrists and keeps his hands there. She places a quick kiss to the side of his head. 

(Without their knowledge, Maeve catches the romantic motion. She doesn’t even bother to hide her smile.)

It’s not the first time she’s seen Nico around the people she loves, but that whole weekend, she watches him and her mom get along so well, him offer to help out Ellen and Jim for meals, him shove Trevor into the lake when he’s being an absolute pest, him sitting down with Quinn by the fire one night a bit away from everyone to talk about something that neither Quinn or Nico will tell her about so she knows it’s about her. 

He slips so easily into the most important part of her life. Clementine doesn’t quite love him yet, but she’s real close. 

Their last night, as they’re getting ready to sleep, Clementine's just staring at Nico from her bed as he’s in the bathroom brushing his teeth. He catches her eye in the mirror and smiles, but toothpaste dribbles down his chins causing him to curse and her to laugh. 

When he climbs under the covers, she places her head on his chest. “Thanks.” 

“For?” 

“Coming here. I’m sure it’s a lot.” 

“It’s not,” he assures gently. “Why would it be?” 

She shrugs, because he’s right, in a sense. “Families are always a lot, no matter how good they are. And I know Quinn and Jimmy grilled you way more than necessary.” 

“Baby,” he rubs up and down her arm. “I knew that was gonna happen as soon as I was invited here. They were more than fine. Jack and Luke’s threats were way worse.”

“They’re annoying.” 

“They love you,” he says. “And they’re protective of you. I get it. I’m the same way with Nina.” 

She shifts so she’s eye level with him. “About that…” 

“Hm?” 

“I got the okay from my supervisors to take two weeks off.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Can I still come to see you in Switzerland?” She asks, biting her lip, nervous all of a sudden. 

Nico kisses her soundly. “Of course,” he mutters against her lips. “Yes. When?”

“I was thinking early July?” 

“To spend your birthday?” 

“If you’ll have me.” 

He squeezes her exaggeratingly, making her giggle. “You’re silly. Of course. Is there anywhere you really wanna go?” 

“I mean, I’ll go anywhere.”

“I can take you all around Switzerland. Give you the grand tour.”

“That sounds perfect,” she swallows before bringing up something that’s very important to her. “I’m paying half.” 

Nico counters back immediately. “One third.” 

She scoffs. She was prepared for this disagreement. “Half.” 

“Hey,” he kisses the top of her head. “You’re coming to see me. The least I can do is handle all of that.” 

“You’re housing me and taking me around. I’m paying for half.” 

“Nope.”

“Nico. I am perfectly capable of paying for myself.” 

“You pay for your own plane tickets and I got the rest.” 

“I pay for my own plane tickets and meals and then you got the rest.” 

“Schätzli. Let me take care of it, yeah? I want to. And I’m perfectly capable of doing so.” 

“I don’t want you to think I’m a gold digger,” Clementine says with a bit of a whine, making Nico snort. 

“I know you’re not a gold digger. If you were, you’d actually let Jack pay for you more. You know he makes more than I do, right?”

“Weird flex.”

“You pay for your plane tickets and some meals,” he compromises. “Save the rest up for something else. Buy Luke a new suit for his birthday or something.” 

She chuckles. “He does need one.” 

“Exactly.” 

Clementine lets out relenting a sigh. She’ll just have to sneak her card in here or there. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” 

“Yeah. I just really don’t want you to think I’m mooching off you or anything.” 

“I’ve never thought of it like that at all, I promise,” he assures. She settles back against his chest again. “I’m so excited for you to come.” 

“I hope your family doesn’t hate me.” 

“They won’t.” And he says it so confidently that she has to believe him. “No one could hate you. Besides, Nina’s been dying to meet you and Luca wants to know the ‘girl who’s voluntarily dealing with my shit.’”

She laughs, turning to shut off the lamp. “Still. You’re their baby brother.” 

He pouts. “I’m not a baby.” 

She rolls her eyes. “I’m convinced.” She yawns, tossing a blanket over them both. “We should sleep. Gotta have energy to deal with the hooligans in the car tomorrow.” 

He laughs, kissing her forehead. “Goodnight.” 

*****

Clementine offers to drive Nico to the airport before she goes to the hospital, even though he tries to vehemently fight her on it. Clementine ultimately wins the argument, wanting to spend as much time as possible before he leaves. 

“It’s only a month,” she reminds him as she kills the engine at the curbside of the departure terminal at Newark Liberty International Airport, biting her lip to also assure herself. 

He leans over the console to kiss her sweetly. “I know,” he murmurs against her lips. “That’s a long time though.”

She runs a hand through his hair. He leans into it instinctively. “I’ll be there with you before you know it. You’ll be having too much fun catching up with family and friends to even think about me.”

“Not true.” She rolls her eyes with a smile as they both climb out of the car. Nico finishes unloading his luggage from the trunk as he carries it to the curb. Clementine’s amazed that no one has yelled at them for parking by the curbside too long yet.

She wraps her arms around his neck and hugs him tightly, leaning her head on his chest and breathing in deeply, trying to memorize his scent. “I’ll miss you.”

“I miss you already,” he mutters into her hair. “I’ll call.”

“You fucking better,” she shoots back with no bite. “Have fun, okay? Enjoy your time off.”

He kisses her one more time, which turns into three more times. Clementine bites her lower lip as he backs away to try not to cry. He brushes his thumb against her cheek. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

She nods with a shaky smile. “Yeah. Text me before you take off.”

“Of course.” He clasps his hand on his suitcase handles and backs away with a sweet smile. “Bye, baby.”

After he walks through the doors, she promptly drives herself to the train station, music playing louder than normal to hopefully drown out her own loud thoughts. She parks to see a text from Nico saying that he’s at the gate, a horribly-angled selfie of him and a coffee he must’ve bought. 

Clementine saves it.

…..

It’s only been eleven days since Nico flew back to Switzerland. They text everyday and FaceTime when the time differences allow. She always wakes up to a good morning text and a mini photo dump of pictures he’s taken that day. Sometimes they’re of the beautiful sights of Bern or Naters or wherever he is. Sometimes they’re literally just a picture of his toast for breakfast. But they’re nice to receive. And at his urging, she sends similar photo dumps back. His favorites are the selfies she takes at work. Bonus points if she’s wearing the scrubs he got her for Christmas. 

She goes to the hospital. She spends sporadic time with Quinn, Jack, Luke and other stragglers who show up at the apartment before they all head back to Michigan or wherever else. Nico relaxes with his friends and family. 

She misses him like a limb. 

…..

Clementine’s phone rings as she’s sipping on her coffee while sitting at a cafe by the hospital. She raises an eyebrow when she sees who’s calling. 

“Quinn. Hey.”

“Hi Clem. Are you busy?”

“You have me for about 15 minutes. What’s up?” She hears a sniffle and immediately she sits up straighter. “Quinny? Is everything okay?”

“Lauren and I broke up.”

She squeezes her eyes shut. “Fuck. Oh Quinn, I’m so sorry. When did this happen?”

“Earlier this morning. She-she called it off. Over the phone.”

“Over the phone?” Clementine tries to level her voice and judgment. “Wasn’t she just in Michigan?”

“She left last week.”

“Fuck, Quinn. How are you feeling?”

“I just, I’m just really sad, I guess. And a bit confused.” She gives him a moment to think. “I know she was voicing concerns about the distance and stuff, but we had talked about it and I thought we had come to a conclusion. I guess we left that conversation feeling very differently.”

Clementine picks at her nails, “What was her reasoning? Did she have any?”

“She said the distance wasn’t worth it anymore.” Quinn trails off and Clementine puts it together, her heart breaking for him as she finishes the thought for him. 

That Quinn wasn’t worth it anymore. 

Clementine grinds her teeth together. “Fuck her,” she says. “I know that’s not what you want to hear right now, but I’m serious. What the fuck? She just suddenly decided that after dating for over a year that she couldn’t do it anymore?”

“Yeah. I’m confused about that too. When she was talking and explaining her reasoning over the phone I was just, like, shell-shocked. I think I froze. She was bringing up things that she hadn’t ever brought up before and I don’t know, it just felt like she had made the decision to break up with me before I even picked up the phone. It wouldn’t have mattered what I said.”

“That’s shitty, Quinny. How unfair.”

“I mean,” she knows he’s shrugging on the other side of the phone. She wishes she could hug him. “I know I wasn’t the perfect boyfriend and there were underlying issues, but I-I tried my best.”

“I know, Quinn. I know,” Clementine sighs. How do you comfort one of your best friends through heartbreak when you can’t actually be there? “Q, I’m so sorry. I have to head back to work, but I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

“Oh. That’s okay. You don’t have to. Thanks for listening anyways.”

“I’ll call you back tonight. I promise. I love you. Hang in there.”

“Thanks, Clem. Love you too.”

Clementine manages to do one thing she does very well, which is push something out of her mind and focus on the task at hand. The second she clocks out of the hospital, on her commute back to Hoboken, she thinks through how she wants to talk this through with Quinn. It’s not her first time talking someone through a break-up, so she’s learned a few tricks and phrases here and there. Like most things, it just comes with repetition.  

But this is also Quinn. Her best friend. All her previous experience might not work and might not even matter.

She calls him as soon as she finishes her shower. She lets him talk for over two hours to the point where she has to adjust her position on the couch to be near an outlet so her phone can charge. 

There’s nothing really to say in a situation like this, as Quinn details what sounds a lot like heartbreak. She wishes she was in Michigan and could give him the tightest hug. Watching and hearing his sniffles through the phone has her throat closing up and all she can do is listen.

But as she climbs into her bed that night, she lets out a breath. She’s sure it hurts so much now, but Quinn will find a way. 

He always does. 

…..

Clementine’s phone reads 6:28 a.m. local time when she lands in Zurich. She yawns as she watches the plane taxi to their gate, Taylor Swift’s “august” playing softly in her ears. Somehow, the two seats next to her were empty so she had her own row the whole flight, meaning she got to go up and pee without bothering a single person. 

She turns on her phone, and texts the chat with the Hughes / Sandoval families that she’s landed, before thumbing over to her thread with Nico. He sent a text eight minutes ago. 

Nico Hischier 

At the arrivals area. Can’t wait to see you ❤️

Clementine Sandoval 

just landed!!! can’t wait to squeeze you 

Immigration and customs goes quickly, even if Clementine finds herself tapping her foot in line. She can already feel the heat of the Switzerland summer air seeping into her skin and she tugs off her sweatshirt, happy that she has a t-shirt underneath. Once she grabs her luggage from the carousel, she takes a deep breath, wheeling her suitcase through to the arrivals hall. Her eyes dart around to try and spot her boyfriend. It doesn’t take long. 

The grin spreads on her face when she sees Nico. He’s wearing an olive green t-shirt that’s seen better days and dark jeans topped off with those scuffed up Nikes that he always seems to wear. 

He’s holding a bouquet of wildflowers wrapped in newspaper, the sweetest smile peeking over. Clementine feels her heart threatening to burst out of her chest. 

She almost knocks her suitcase over as she throws her arms around him. She feels him chuckle and place a kiss on the side of her head. “Hi Schätzli,” he says softly. 

“Hi,” she pulls back and kisses him. But they’re both grinning too much to kiss properly. She holds his cheeks in her hand, happy to just be around him after a month. “I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you more,” he grins. “You look so beautiful.”

Clementine snorts because her Stanford t-shirt tied with her hair tie in the front and the black leggings with her Adidas definitely scream ‘I’ve been on a transatlantic flight and I need to shower.’

“I look like I just was on a plane for 8 hours,” she says dryly. 

“Beautiful,” Nico says firmly as he takes the backpack off her shoulders and grabs her suitcase, giving her the flowers to hold. “For you”

She sniffs the flowers and smiles. “Thank you. You didn’t have to get me these. They’re so pretty.”

“You’re so pretty,” he replies simply. That’s twice in 30 seconds. He turns to look at her again as they walk out to the parking lot. “I’m so happy you’re here.” 

“Thank you for driving all this way. I know it’s early and far.”

“Of course. I just want to see you.”

It doesn’t feel like it’s been a month as Nico starts the drive to Bern to his sister’s place where they’re staying for a few days. The sun’s high in the sky despite the early hour, and Clementine happily sips on the coffee and munches on the croissant Nico had graciously gotten her. They catch up on each other’s weeks like they have been over the phone when they’ve been almost 4,000 miles apart. They talk about the teenager who recognized Nico the other day when Nico and his friends were playing a game of pick-up soccer and how they all played until sundown and Clementine having to step in to assist in a higher than average number of surgeries the last month, as well as having to work the Fourth of July. She holds his hand the entire time and both of them can’t seem to stop the smile from spreading across their lips. 

She’s here. In the most beautiful country. With the most wonderful person. 

“How are you feeling?” Nico asks. “Are you really tired?”

“I’m okay.” She yawns. “Even if I am, I’m not sleeping until at least 9 tonight. I’m not wasting time here by being jetlagged and sleeping at weird times.”

Nico laughs. “Fair. But it’s okay if you’re tired for a few days. I always am.”

“No wasted time,” she says, poking his shoulder on every word. 

“If you say so,” he grins. “My mom’s making a huge breakfast for us when we get back and everyone’s excited to meet you.”

Suddenly, Clementine is nervous again. “She didn’t have to do that.”

“She wanted to,” he assures. “I haven’t brought a girl back home in…ever, really. They’re probably more excited to meet you than you are to meet them.”

“No pressure at all,” she says dryly. 

He looks over at her and squeezes her hand. “You’ll win them over in minutes.” Clementine hums before Nico continues. “If Jack could somehow have them all liking him in a day, you’re gonna be perfectly fine. You’re all the best parts of him and more anyways.” She reaches over to fix a strand of his hair and she wants to smirk at the light blush that paints his cheeks. He clears his throat, “I was thinking of taking it easy today, just walking around the town and exploring the area a bit. And then dinner at my favorite place in town?”

“Sounds perfect to me.” 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he says breathily. “I, just…I can’t believe it.”

She grins, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “Well believe it, pretty boy.”

(His stomach flips at being called ‘pretty boy.’ She hasn’t said that one yet. Two months after they’ve officially started dating and he still feels like a teenage boy with the biggest crush on the prettiest girl in school)

They pull up to Nina’s place and Clementine feels like she’s in a dream. Bern is beautiful everywhere you look. It’s almost like she’s in a picture book of a fairytale. She stretches and rises on her tiptoes to kiss Nico on the cheek to thank him for grabbing her luggage. She tugs at his t-shirt and he stops to turn to her, momentarily confused. She just wrap her arms around his waist again, wanting to feel him before they’re surrounded by his family. He chuckles, rubbing her back and kissing the top of her head three times. 

As they’re walking up the steps to the front door, it swings open as Katja, Nico’s mother, beams. “You guys made it! Hello!”

Clementine can’t help but smile back. “Hi,” she shifts the flowers so that she can shake Katja’s hand, but Katja doesn’t bother and just wraps her into a hug. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs. Hischier. Thank you so much for having me.”

“Thank you for coming all this way,” Katja’s eyes shift to Nico, who’s a few steps behind with Clementine’s luggage. “Nico tells us good things.”

She chuckles and ducks her head. “I think your son is a bit too nice to me.”

“Ignore her, Mama,” Nico says as they all walk into the house. “The only person who doesn’t know she’s the best is herself.” 

There’s footsteps coming down the stairs. Clementine’s met immediately with Nina’s smile. It’s the exact same as her mother and her brother’s and she is absolutely stunning. Luca is behind his sister as well with a matching grin. And Rino, who Clementine suddenly realizes is where Nico gets so many of his facial features from, just stands to the side with a small smile. 

“You’re here!” Nina exclaims. Nico says something quick in Swiss German which Nina rolls her eyes at before she pulls Clementine into a tight hug. “It’s so nice to meet you, Clementine. We’ve heard so much.”

“Yeah,” Luca echoes. “I’ve never seen Nico so excited about someone.”

Nico groans and Clementine hugs Luca with a giggle before nudging her boyfriend. “He’s not so bad either.” She turns to shake Rino’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Hischier. Thank you for having me.” Rino shakes her hand with a warm smile before Nico pinches her side and pulls her closer. 

“Okay, breakfast is almost ready!” Katja claps her hands. “Nico, why don’t you show Clementine to your room? Luca and Nina, come help me finish up. Oh! I can take those flowers from you. Did Nico get you those?”

Clementine giggles as she hands them over. “He did.”

Katja pats Nico’s cheek in such a motherly way that it makes Clementine’s heart ache in the best way. “I did raise a sweet one.”

Nico groans. “Mama.” Clementine makes eye contact with Nina and they both burst out laughing. “Come on. You can take a quick shower and then we’ll come back down.”

Clementine shoots a quick grin at Katja, Rino, Nina and Luca before following Nico upstairs. She decides to jump into the shower quickly and rinse off, partially to wake her up, mostly to wash the grime of the plane off of her. Nico’s sitting on the bed scrolling through her phone when she comes back out, hair wet and dressed in a light sweater and linen shorts. 

“The fact that there’s a window in the shower looking over the mountains is so unfair,” she says, combing her fingers through her wet hair. 

Nico chuckles. “Pretty, hey?”

“Very,” she yawns. “Come on. Don’t wanna leave your family waiting.”

Breakfast is absolutely delicious and filled with warm conversation, mainly filled with the Hischier family asking Clementine questions about herself, which she happily answers inbetween way too much bread, butter and coffee. Nico tries to intercept a few times (“This isn’t an interrogation, Luca”) but she just waves him off. It’s not like she likes talking about herself, but when being surrounded by people everyday who know the ins and outs of her career, it’s refreshing to have people take interest in what she does who don’t work in the medical field at all. 

After breakfast, Clementine and Nico venture into the town and Clementine is all smiles. The sun is out but it’s not too hot where she aches for shade like she does back in the US. She had changed into a dress after breakfast and doesn’t regret it, resisting the urge to twirl around the streets. It doesn’t hurt that Nico looks at her in a way that makes her giddy.

As they’re walking through the scenic old town, it’s obvious how relaxed Nico is. Away from New Jersey and the expectations that come with being the captain of the sole professional sports team from Garden State, Nico looks like every other guy in his mid twenties. It’s not like he isn’t happy in New Jersey, but there’s something freeing in the way he walks, his shoulders free from the weight he carries during the season. 

They walk in the sun leisurely, stop by a few shops that look interesting to Clementine and grab coffee and pastries from a cafe that Nico apparently frequents often, judging by how friendly he is with the staff. She hasn’t really gotten to hear Nico speak his native language that often so she enjoys hearing him switch so effortlessly.

“You look happy,” Nico comments as they’re taking a break and sitting on a bench to people watch. 

She tears her eyes away from an adorable family to meet Nico’s warm, brown eyes. “Do I?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I am. Are you?”

He presses a kiss to her temple and she leans her cheek against his shoulder. “Very much so.”

“Did I pass the test?” She teases. “Your family doesn't hate me?”

“Stop,” he says with a smile. “They love you. I can tell. I think my mom fell in love with you the second you talked about growing up with the boys.”

“Really?”

“She has a soft spot for sibling relationships. She always tells us how she’s glad me, Luca and Nina get along so well.”

“They’re great, by the way, your family,” she says. “Much less chaotic than mine, which is definitely a good thing. But really, really cool. I…” She trails off at the sight of a stray soccer ball. 

Nico’s eyebrows furrow before he follows her eyeline. He chuckles and gets up, holding out a hand for her. “Come on. Let’s do some passing.”

She lights up at the idea of passing around a ball with the mountains in the background on a fairly large, grassy area. The most picturesque image you could find, she thinks. She takes his hand and scurries over, getting her feet familiar with the ball as he backs away a few feet. 

They start some basic passing as they’re mindful of the fact that she’s wearing a dress. Clementine never saw soccer as more than a form of exercise in her youth, but she sometimes wishes she had time to join a rec league or something of that level in college and afterwards. The few people she keeps in touch with still in Toronto are mostly thanks to her club soccer days. 

She’s definitely rusty, but it’s good to go through the familiar motions again. She wrinkles her nose when Nico pulls off an impressive move. “This is unfair. Are you good at every sport?”

He just shrugs modestly, before passing the ball back to her. “I definitely don’t look at ease with this ball on my feet like you do. How long did you play for?”

“Like, over 10 years?” She executes some footwork and smiles in satisfaction. “Played pretty intensely all the way up until I was 18.”

“I can tell,” he smiles. “My dad would be impressed.”

She snorts. “Don’t be ridiculous. I was never good enough to play at the collegiate level, much less professional.”

“It’s interesting that you do that.”

She stops the ball with her foot. “Do what?”

“Downplay your achievements.”

Clementine blinks a few times. “What do you mean?” But she knows exactly what he means. 

Nico lets out a light snort, “You know what I mean. You’re probably the smartest and most interesting and talented person I’ve ever met. Even when you were talking to my family about your residency, you were talking about it like it isn’t a big deal. But it is a big deal. And it’s really fucking cool. And you’re so smart and quick and…I don’t know. I wish you would show off more, even though I know that’s not your style.”

She smirks. “You want me to show off?” Without waiting for an answer, she concentrates on the ball at her feet and looks up at the goal. She dribbles the ball a few seconds before striking it in the top right corner. She huffs, satisfied that she didn’t whiff it, laughing as Nico tackles her and lifts her up in a hug. 

The next two days are spent in Bern, as Clementine fights the jetlag while her camera roll fills up. The Hischier siblings bring her around and she just soaks up the sunshine, views, and attractions. She especially loves flowing down the river on boats like the most seamless lazy river that just runs through the city, because you can’t really get that in the US. Nico continues bringing her around to his favorite hidden spots and to his favorite shops and restaurants, all with his hand in hers and the most beautiful smile on his face. 

After Clementine says goodbye to Katja and Rino, the four of them take two cars to Zurich, Luca and Nina staying with friends while her and Nico rent out their own place. They arrive at a beautiful, spacious apartment that overlooks the center of Zurich. Clementine’s birthday is tomorrow and she has no idea what the plan is because she trusted Nico when he said he would handle it, but she’s a planner, so she can’t help but bring it up as they’re relaxing before heading out for dinner.

“Nico?”

“Yeah?” He calls out from the bathroom. 

“Can you give me a hint on what we’re doing tomorrow?”

He peeks his head out of the bathroom with a smile. “I was wondering when you were gonna ask.”

She shrugs. “I trust you. But you know I’m nosy.”

Nico chuckles. “Yeah,” he comes out of the bathroom and takes his phone out of his pocket. Once unlocked, he tosses it at her. He’s lucky she has okay reflexes. 

She raises an eyebrow at him before looking at his phone. Immediately, she gasps and drops the phone as it lands on the carpet on the floor. “Nico.”

“Yeah?”

“Nico,” she repeats, breathless. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“Taylor Swift? How long have you had these? How did you even get them?”

He comes over to sit on the arm of the sofa. “Nina’s a big fan. When you said you were gonna coming here for your birthday, she mentioned that Taylor Swift was gonna be in town at the same time. I pulled a few strings.”

She picks up the phone and swipes through the tickets, shellshocked. “Seven tickets?”

“Me, you, Nina, one of her friends, Luca and two of his friends. I guess they’re all kind of my friends too. I hope that’s okay?” He asks, eyebrows furrowed worriedly. 

“Nico, shut up. I’m gonna see my favorite artist live and I wanna meet your friends. Of course it’s okay,” she tackles him onto the couch as he laughs. “I-I can’t believe…thank you. Oh my god.”

“Good birthday present?” He jokes. 

She kisses him fondly. “I don’t know how I’m gonna beat this for yours.”

“Stop,” he murmurs, deepening the kiss. “I’m supposed to ask you if you have something to wear and if not, that you and Nina can find something tonight or tomorrow morning.”

She thinks of the light pink sequin dress she had thrown into her suitcase last minute, grateful for her past self’s decision. “I think I have something, but if I see something when we’re walking around later, I’ll let you know.” She holds his face in her hands. “Thank you. Seriously. First the whole trip and then this. I’ll pay you back for the tickets as-”

“No you won’t,” he says against her lips. She pulls back and gives him an unimpressed look. “I barely paid for them. It would be unfair to ask you to. It’s your birthday. It’s my present to you.”

Let other people do things for you for once, Clem, Quinn’s voice echoes through her head. He’s said multiple iterations of it throughout the years, but this one in particular she can envision, at dinner right after the Canucks played San Jose back in her Stanford days. That was about something simpler — arguing over who was paying for dinner — but the sentiment remains the same. 

“Fine. But I’m paying for everyone’s dinner tonight.”

“Of course,” he beams. 

“I mean it,” she warns. 

“I know.”

She slaps his shoulder with a smile. “You fucker. I can’t believe you got those tickets.”

“27 is gonna be a good year, hey?”

She launches herself into his arms. 

Yeah, it is.

…..

Clementine wakes up on her birthday to Nico pressing kisses all over her face as she squeals and wiggles around. She stretches and her arm whacks him in the face, causing him to groan. She kisses him as an apology. 

“Happy birthday, honey,” he says, hovering over her with a light smile. “I can hear your bones cracking already.”

“I will push you off the bed.”

“Empty threats.”

She yawns. “How much time before everyone gets here?”

“Like, two hours? Why?”

“Perfect,” she says, pulling him closer to kiss him feverishly. He lets out a soft moan and she melts into a puddle

An hour and a half later, Clementine fiddles with the coffee maker in the kitchen as everyone starts filing in. Nina is first to bounce over and gives Clementine a big hug, wishing her a happy birthday. She meets their friends and glares at Luca as he places a large bag on the table with tissue paper peeking out of it. She doesn’t need birthday presents. But it’s sweet they thought of her anyways. 

After lunch at a nearby outdoor cafe that Clementine falls in love with, everyone heads back. The guys venture out to the balcony while she, Nina and Anika, Nina’s friend, quickly make some friendship bracelets and start getting ready. Clementine’s almost done curling Nina’s hair when Nico peeks his head in, lighting up at the open box of beads on the table. He scurries in to grab the supplies and takes them outside without a word.

Anika, who’s been doing Nina’s makeup while Clementine’s been doing her hair, grins. “You two are cute together.”

“Oh, thank you.” Clementine looks up to flash a quick smile before focusing on not burning Nina or herself. 

“I’ve known Nico since he was a baby,” Anika says. “Always the younger one, he was chasing us all the time. Wanted to do everything we were doing. But it was Nico and he was so sweet, so we never said no.”

Clementine chuckles. “Yeah, I get that feeling. Not that my brothers necessarily wanted to do everything I did, but they were never far behind me when we were young.”

“Right,” Anika dabs the liquid blush on Nina’s cheeks. “That’s how you and Nico met, right? Your brothers play with him in New Jersey?”

“Yeah.”

Clementine’s taken aback tone must show because Nina smiles at her through the mirror. “My brother has talked about you quite a bit since he’s come back.”

That makes Clementine look down a bit abashed. “I guess they aren’t technically my brothers,” she clarifies. “I just grew up with them.”

“So like me and Nina here.”

“Yeah. Exactly like that.”

“Do you play hockey?” Anika asks, stepping back as she finishes Nina’s makeup. 

Clementine snorts, spraying hairspray into Nina’s hair. “No. You do not want to see me on skates. I played soccer. Or football, I guess.”

“But you enjoy watching it?” 

The conversation momentarily pauses as Clementine is ushered into the hot seat. Nina unplugs the curler and plugs in the straightener (“I want to try something”) as Anika takes a look at Clementine’s makeup products. 

“I do,” Clementine says. “Enjoy watching hockey, I mean. I don’t know if that would be the same if I wasn’t so closely connected with the sport personally, but I do enjoy it. It’s more comforting now than anything.”

“I still remember the day Nico got drafted,” Nina says wistfully. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.”

“And I remember everyone here staying up to watch it,” Anika adds. “There were people piling into the streets after in celebration.”

Clementine grins. “Yeah, I get that. I still remember Quinn, Jack and Luke’s draft days. It’s an extremely weird moment. Like, it’s wonderful of course, but also strange?”

“That makes sense,” Nina says. “It’s really cool to see how things have turned out since then, but it’s an interesting moment for sure. Especially when you remember Nico, or in your case, Quinn, Jack and Luke, as little boys just being little boys.”

“Nico’s really happy with you, I can tell,” Anika says. “And I don’t just say that to say that. His smile looks lighter. Freer.”

“I think that just might be because he’s home.”

“It’s because of you,” Nina says in a tone that leaves room for no argument. 

When she slips into her pink dress and puts the bracelets on her wrist as they’re about to head out, it hits her what’s really about to happen. She’s about to see her favorite artist. She still remembers being gifted a CD of Taylor’s debut album from her father, Teardrops On My Guitar on repeat. After the Eras Tour sold out in seconds and the resale tickets were way too high, she lost hope on ever seeing Taylor on tour, at least this go-around. 

She walks down the stairs and the first thing she sees is Nico. Dressed up in a light pink button up with khaki shorts, a backwards hat placed on his head, laughter etched in the lines on his face as he converses with his friends and siblings in his native language, she swallows. He looks up as she reaches the last step and his smile turns softer. Nina’s previous words echo her mind as she easily presses against his side. 

Clementine wrinkles her nose as she looks up at him. “You really do love your hats.”

“You don’t?”

“They’re fine. I just like your hair more.” Without argument, he takes his hat off and tosses it on a nearby couch. She gives him a look but he just kisses the top of her head. 

The closer they reach Letzigrund, a football stadium, Luca had said, she marvels at how large it is. She’s been to large concerts before, but as they park and make their way through the gates, she’s taken aback. Nico gently tugs their hands so she doesn’t get lost in the ground as they go find their seats. Turns out Nico pulling a few strings means tickets on the floor, not too close to the action where they would get pushed but at a vantage point where they’re in the center and can see everything. She turns to look at him bewildered and he just shrugs, a wry smile playing at his lips.

She pokes him. “Best birthday present ever.”

He takes a sip of his beer casually. “I’m glad. You know I prepared for this.”

“How?”

“I’ve been listening to Taylor Swift non-stop the last month.”

“I know we haven’t been dating for a long time, but all I do is play Taylor Swift.”

“True. But I didn’t realize how many songs she actually has. And you’re probably gonna know all of them.”

“Probably,” she admits. She’s definitely the biggest fan among the group right along with Anika. “But you don’t have to know all of them to have a good time.”

“I know. I heard she puts on a good show.” They watch Yannis, one of their friends, exchange bracelets with a stranger before Nico nudges her lightly. “I’m also just, I don’t know, excited because you’re excited.”

She snorts. “You’re a sap.”

What she wants to say, really, is “I love you.” But she refrains. 

Throughout the whole concert — which in itself is a highlight of her life and something she won’t ever forget — Clementine wants to tell him she loves him. When Taylor appears in her colorful, sparkly bodysuit and sings ‘Lover’ while Nico’s arms find their way around her waist as he’s standing behind her swaying them lightly, she wants to tell him. When she, Nina and Anika loop their arms around each other screaming ‘You Belong With Me’ and he simply points his phone at them with a laugh, she wants to tell him. Right before the bridge of ‘Champagne Problems,’ when he whispers a soft “wow,” eyes glued on Taylor on stage as she sings one of Clementine’s favorite songs of hers, she wants to tell him. When he quickly leaves and comes back in the middle of ‘Delicate’ with a beer for her and a water for them to share, she wants to tell him. 

When ‘Long Live’ comes on and she sees his eyes light up in recognition, before he pulls his phone out to record the end — her favorite part and the fact that he knows that is something in itself  — she wants to tell him. When he and the boys scream ‘22’ so incredibly out of tune and she can’t stop laughing, she wants to tell him. When she fully loses her voice screaming out ‘Illicit Affairs’ and he can’t hide his grimace at his eardrums bursting, she wants to tell him. As they both watch Anika practically collapse when the opening notes of ‘Style’ ring out — she had come into the concert blind to the setlist somehow — and Clementine can’t help but shake her hips while singing along, she wants to tell him. 

When he presses a kiss on her temple multiple times during the surprise songs as she is tearing up, she wants to tell him. When Taylor closes out the show with ‘Karma’ and Nico is visibly in awe of all the colors, fireworks, confetti and overall grand finale, she wants to tell him. 

She leans into his side as they walk to their cars. She loves him. They bid farewell to everyone. She loves him. When they get back to their place, they decide to rinse off the sweat and grime together and he gently rubs massages shampoo into her hair. She loves him. 

As Nico falls fast asleep next to her, arm wrapped securely around her waist, she’s about to lock her phone when she sees that she has a few text messages. They’re from Nina, who has already speedily downloaded the pictures she took on her digital camera from tonight. She thumbs through them quickly, smiling at all of them. 

She stops at one of her and Nico taken before the show in front of the stage. They’re both not looking at the camera but at each other. She’s in the middle of talking — about what, she can’t remember — as Nico is just smiling at her. 

She looks down at the sleeping man next to her. She loves him so fucking much. 

…..

(She does end up telling Nico that she loves him a few days later, as they’re weaving through a farmer’s market in Lucerne, him carrying the bags filled with fresh vegetables and other groceries that they’re using to make dinner tonight.  She thinks he doesn't hear her at first, but he tugs them towards the side and drops the bags so he can cup her face in his hands and kiss her. 

“You love me?” He murmurs. 

“Yeah,” she whispers. “I-I know it’s soon and you don’t have to say it back-”

He shakes his head with a grin, “Shut up.” He kisses her again. “I love you, Schatz.”

“Really?” She swallows. “You’re not just saying that?”

“I love you,” he repeats firmly. “I adore you, if we’re gonna be honest. You’re getting really close to be one of the best things that Jersey has brought me.”

“Well, now you’re just being stupid. How about, oh I don’t know, your entire career?”

He picks up their bags again, tossing an arm over her shoulder. “One of the best. Love you.”

She lets out a happy sigh, momentarily leaning her head on his shoulder as the sun hits their skin)

…..

The Switzerland tour is wrapped up in the best way, in Nico’s hometown of Naters, right by the mountains. Seriously, how is one country allowed to be this beautiful? She gets to hear the stories that litter these streets, the memories associated with the air interlacing with the wind, from a man who she loves and loves her. She tries not to think about how this is the last moments they’ll have until he comes back to New Jersey in September. 

The night before she takes off, they go out to dinner at a fancy enough place that Clementine’s pulling out one of her more formal dresses. The candlelight illuminates Nico reverently, his brown eyes not tearing away from her for more than 15 seconds the whole night. The attention would be overwhelming, but Clementine just lets herself sink into it. 

This feeling of being loved like this? It’s new. And she’s fully aware that it’s fragile and it could crumble any minute. But not right now. Not with Nico looking at her like she’s the only person in the room. 

When he drops her off at Zurich airport the next day, she hugs him for a full minute. She doesn’t cry, but there’s a pull at her heart that plants the silly idea of staying here forever just so that she doesn’t have to leave him. But she pulls away, kisses him one more time, runs a hand through his hair, before grabbing her things and walking through the automatic doors. 

…..

Clementine’s about to take a shower when she hears a key click into place. Seconds later, she’s sandwiched between Jack and Luke, uncontrollably laughing. She’s missed them dearly. 

Luke smacks a kiss on her cheek. Jack ruffles her hair. She scolds them about leaving their bags in the front door where anyone could trip on them. 

They’re back for another season, albeit a bit early to spend their last few summer days in the city. Nico lands tomorrow. Her Google Calendar has been synched with the Devils and Canucks game schedules.

Suddenly, the heat wave that’s hit New York / New Jersey doesn’t feel so constricting anymore.

…..

She might’ve had to bribe Ben to switch shifts with her, but there was no way she was gonna miss the home opener. Even if she’s extremely tired.

Clementine somehow makes it home before Jack and Luke are due to be at the rink earlier than normal for the carpet and other things. They’re both dressed and ready to head out. It’s a reminder that if Clementine sits on her couch for even 5 minutes, she will fall asleep. So she shouldn’t do that. 

Not even a minute after she shut the front door, there’s a knock. Jack calls out that it’s open and Nico walks in. 

If this were a few months ago, Clementine would blame just getting back from a long day of work for her eyes literally popping open. But it’s not, and she calls the man who walked through the door her boyfriend. Yet here she is, in her scrubs with her messy ponytail and smelling of hospital, just staring.

Holy. Shit. Nico looks hot. Which, like, yeah, he always does. Clementine is well aware that her boyfriend is a very attractive man. But something about the new green three piece suit that she had helped him pick out over FaceTime when he was still in Switzerland and his hair and the overall look has her literally speechless. 

Luke, like the bitch he is, takes note and just laughs. “Cat got your tongue, Clemmy?”

She finds her voice. “Fuck off.” 

Nico just smirks as he hugs Jack and Luke before walking over to give her a peck, “Hi.”

“Absolutely not,” she backs away when Nico reaches for a hug. He pouts but she shakes her head. “I just worked for 12 hours in a hospital. You do not want to hug me.” 

“Of course I want to hug you. I love you.” 

Somewhere behind them, she hears a gag. Gags, actually. She sticks out her middle finger behind her back before leaning in to give him another kiss. “I’ll hug you after the game when I’m clean.” He ignores her and just smothers her in a hug as she squeals. He presses exaggerated kisses all over her face as she tries to slither out of his hold. “Stop!” She breathes out in between laughs. “I’m literally so gross.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“Can you two not?” Luke deadpans. 

The couple both roll their eyes. “This is nothing,” Clementine retorts. 

“I know, which makes it worse.”

Jack snorts as he grabs his water bottle and keys. “You two ready to go? We’re cutting it close.”

“Yeah,” Nico tosses Jack his eyes. “You guys go down first. I’ll be a second.”

Jack looks between his captain and sister with a subtle glare. “Five minutes.”

“We are older than you,” Clementine retorts. Jack rolls his eyes before exaggeratedly blowing a kiss to Clementine. She scoffs but blows him and Luke a kiss as they walk out the front door. “They’re annoying.”

Nico chuckles, before brushing a stray piece of her hair behind her ear. “How was your day?”

“Fucking brilliant,” she deadpans. “You can’t tell by my messy hair and eye bags?”

His eyebrows furrow. “If you’re too tired to come to the game, you don’t-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence. I’m not missing the home opener. Are you insane? I’ll be good after a shower and a beer or two.” She places her hands and gently straightens his jacket into place. “You look incredibly hot.”

“Yeah?”

She kisses the smirk off his face. “Oh please. Like you don’t know.”

“It’s a good ego boost hearing that from the person’s opinion I care about the most.”

She gently brushes her hand through his hair. “I’m a very lucky woman.”

“I’m the lucky one,” he presses one last kiss on her lips. “I’ll see you after?”

She tilts her head to the side and pouts a bit. “Thought I was going home with you after no matter what, Captain.”

Nico’s eyes darken the slightest bit. Bingo. “Careful, baby.”

Clementine shrugs nonchalantly. “Have fun. Maybe score a goal or two for me?”

“What do I get if I do?”

“Careful, baby,” she echoes with a smirk. “You should head out before Jack and Luke storm back in here. And you know they will.”

He groans. “You ruined the moment.”

She chuckles, gently shoving him back. “Good luck. I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

…..

It’s not like anything is wrong, perse. 

Clementine doesn’t often get into her overthinking moods. Frankly, she doesn’t have time for it. Since she was 18, it was study hard, let herself be dragged out once in awhile by her friends away from the books, listen to her own gut when it told her she actually needed a break, feel herself falling more in love with medicine and patients and caring for them, rinse and repeat. She’s 27 now, and the contours of that thinking have adjusted to whatever moment she’s in, but her core is still the same. 

But when she finds herself in these overthinking moods, it consumes her. Her mom once told her it causes her to think irrationally, and Clementine had snapped back, even though deep down, she knew it was true. 

These overthinking moods could be about anything, and have been about anything. From grades, to the overwhelming ache of missing her father, to questioning if the path she’s worked so hard for is worth it, to questioning if going to California for eight years and away from everyone was the best choice or just the convenient excuse she could use when in reality, she was running from her problems. From watching Quinn, Jack and Luke from right next to them but also from so, so far away, to making sure her mother still enjoys and loves life even though it’s been almost ten years since she lost her partner, to her own self worth and if she’s as good of a person that everyone always tells her she is and how that can be true if sometimes she feels like she’s grasping at straws. 

The point is, Clementine knows herself well enough to know when one of these moods is coming. 

It hits her full force on her commute the way to the hospital, because of course it does. Last night had been really fun with the season home opener. She sat with all the significant others for the first time and the vibe was high. When Nico had scored, the girls had all cheered and pointed to her as she finished off a beer. Some of the fans had given her high fives and maybe had caught on, she thinks, especially because she was wearing a 13 jersey and Nico had pointed in her direction after he scored. But Devils fans are also just really nice, so it also could’ve been nothing. 

She already had a lot of the other women’s phone numbers from last year’s Friendsgiving, but she was officially added into the group chat because she’s not just Jack and Luke’s pseudo-sister who lives with them anymore. She’s also the captain’s girlfriend. 

Something about that has her mind racing this morning as she watches the streets of New York City at 7:29 a.m. outside the bus window. Now she’s thinking about whether she should be doing more because of that title. In the grand scheme of things, her and Nico haven’t been dating for that long. Realistically, she knows no one is expecting her to do anything more. She venmoed Nicole immediately yesterday when she had casually mentioned the money pool all the significant others have for various things like events, gifts and other things. But should Clementine be the one spearheading that because her boyfriend’s the captain? She just got here. She has no fucking idea.

She always thought being surrounded by hockey her whole life would help her in most of these situations. Not this one. 

When the time comes — if the time comes and her and Nico even last as long as she wants to — and off-season comes back around, is he gonna expect her to spend it in Switzerland with him? Obviously, that didn’t happen this summer because they had literally just started dating, but what about the future? She wouldn’t ever ask him to move his training closer to her, but how would off-seasons work in different countries when the regular season is already crazy enough?  She knows All-Star breaks and off-season vacations are a thing, but with her inflexible work schedule, how is all that going to work? Will he be upset that she probably won’t be able to join him? What if, somehow, Nico is traded to another team? Clementine’s home for the next four years is going to be New Jersey / New York. And then, vice versa, what happens if her future leads her to yet another part of the country?

Yeah, she’s majorly overthinking now. 

Usually, she would talk to someone about it, but in a rare instance, her mind comes up blank. Her mom and Ellen would just tell her to slow down and that she’s being silly. Emilia and her other friends at the hospital would listen, but wouldn't really get it. The other significant others are nice, but she doesn’t feel particularly close enough with any of them yet to voice her intrusive thoughts. No way is she talking to Quinn, Jack or Luke about this. 

That would leave Nico. But there’s something about that that feels off too. 

She’s also been told multiple times that she can’t keep things to herself. And she really does think she’s gotten better at it throughout the years. But old habits die hard. So she also does something she’s really good at. Putting it all away the second she walks into the hospital 

The next time she thinks about it is during a quick break she has inbetween patients, when she checks her phone and sees the notifications from the significant other group chat. Nothing important as she thumbs through quickly, but it still leaves her with a weird feeling in her stomach. 

And again, she wills those thoughts to go away as she steps back out into the hallway. 

The next few days, Clementine doesn’t see Nico much. She’s at the hospital and he’s busy with the new season starting and getting back into the swing of things, making sure his team is doing well on and off the ice and making sure new guys are acclimating. It’s nothing out of the ordinary — it’s not like she’s seeing Jack and Luke that much either while living with them. But she also knows deep down that it’s more than that. 

A week and a half after the season opener, Nico texts her to see if she wants to come over to his after her shift and they can make dinner together. Despite whatever weird things she’s thinking, she says yes. It hits her like a brick that they haven’t seen each other since Nico kissed her goodnight after the season opener.

She can tell something is on his mind immediately, or maybe that he knows something is on her mind, but they both don’t mention it the whole night. Instead, they loosely follow a steak dinner recipe Nico found online and keep the topics light. 

But she can’t help but feel like something is off the whole night. Clementine knows she should ask him. Talk to him about it. 

She doesn’t. 

Her stomach remains in weird knots for the next few days when she lets herself think even for a second about her boyfriend, who’s supposed to be the person she can talk to these things about, right? Clementine’s a bit out of practice — it’s been over three years since she’s had anything sembling a relationship — but goddamn, she doesn’t think this is normal. 

But she doesn’t want to burden Nico. He’s already overwhelmed enough with everything on his plate. She can see the wheels constantly turning in his mind. She doesn’t want to add onto that. 

So, Clementine avoids. 

…..

More patients. More long hours. The Devils first road trip. She should’ve known the people she lives with would pick up on something sooner than later.

“Are you and Schao fighting?”

Clementine has no idea where that nickname came from and has never asked. Hockey players are weird creatures, the nicknames they give their teammates included. 

She keeps her head down, putting the chicken pot pies in the oven. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I asked if he wanted to come by for dinner and he made some shitty excuse about calling his family or something.”

“Calling family is not a shitty excuse,” Clementine says automatically. Her back is towards them, but she knows Luke always beelines directly towards the bathroom to rinse off right after practice. So Jack’s the one who’s dropping their bags loudly on the floor. “Bags against the wall, Jacky.”

He grumbles and Clementine smirks to herself in satisfaction as she hears Jack move the bags. “So? Trouble in paradise?”

“None of your business.”

“Dude.”

“I mean it. None of your business.”

She doesn’t exactly snap — somehow, Quinn, Jack and Luke have never annoyed her enough to make her want to — but it’s something close to it. Silence, and then she hears Jack rounding the kitchen island. He tugs at her arm. “Do I need to beat him up? I know he’s my captain or whatever, but I will.”

“Absolutely not.” She finally makes eye contact with him and is taken aback at how serious Jack looks. “I’m not fucking with your team chemistry.”

“Who cares about team chemistry?” Jack asks, watching as she stirs the glazed carrots. “You’re my sister. So I’ll ask again. Do I need to whoop his ass?”

She sighs, leaning her hip against the counter. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shrugs. “There’s nothing much to it. Just a bump in the road, I guess.”

“About?” Jack presses lightly. 

Clementine bites her lip. One part of her is telling her that she shouldn’t talk to Jack — or Luke — about her relationship troubles simply due to the fact that Nico’s their captain and friend and teammate and rock and all of that. But the other part of her does want to finally talk to someone. “I think we’re trying to figure out how to be together with both our busy schedules and it’s…tougher than we anticipated.”

Jack hums, “I see.”

Despite herself, Clementine snorts. “I’m not getting relationship advice from my younger brother. I’m not stooping that low.”

“Lame,” Jack shoots back. “Your loss. I think I could give you some decent Nico advice. I’ve known him much longer than you have, you know.”

He does have a point. She watches him blow a piece of hair out of his face in thought. Then, Luke walks in with his damp hair. 

“What are you guys talking about?” Luke asks. 

“Nothing.”

“Nico.” She glares at Jack, who just shrugs with a smirk. 

Luke sits down across from her. “Oh wonderful. We’re talking about how miserable he’s been lately?”

Clementine busies herself by pouring him out a glass of water. “Nico’s been miserable?”

“Uh, yeah.” Luke says in a know-it-all voice that has her wanting to smack him on the head. “Besides, like, maybe a few smiles on the ice after a good play or game or whatever, he’s just had those sad eyes.”

Ah, yes. Those sad eyes. Clementine’s acquainted herself with those, even last season when they weren’t together. They come out after every loss. They’ve never come because of her. 

She shrugs, trying to be casual about it. She can feel Jack’s eyes narrowing and knows that his brain is moving. People don’t give Jack enough credit for how perceptive he can be. He tugs at her sleeve again, and Clementine sighs, lowering the flame so she can give him his full attention. 

“Do I need to talk to him?” Jack asks softly. “I don’t like seeing either of you sad.”

“Wait, hold on,” Luke interrupts. “You can’t talk to him if you don’t know what’s going on, Jacky.”

“No one is talking to anyone,” she says. “We just haven’t been able to see each other much lately. Or don’t want to. I don’t know.” 

“Clee.” Jack says flatly. 

She finally cracks, swallowing. “Obviously, I know what a season looks like. I mean, fuck, I lived with you two last year and I literally grew up with hockey all around me. I know it’s busy and I know he’s even busier because he’s captain or whatever. But shit, sometimes it feels like…I don’t know.”

“It feels like what?” Jack presses. 

She puts her head in her hands for a few moments before looking back up, squeezing her eyes together to keep the frustrated tears at bay. “Sometimes it feels like he doesn’t even want to be around me. Like we’re strangers or just friends or whatever”

“What?” Luke deadpans. “Clemmy, that’s…what?”

Jack throws his brother a dirty look. “Let her finish.”

“And it’s on me too,” she continues as if they hadn’t interrupted. “Like, yeah, he’s busy, but so am I. And I’ve been taking extra shifts and staying at the hospital to study longer because things are getting harder but, I don’t know. I guess now that we’re actually in the season it’s a whole other thing. I know I’m being unreasonable. Maybe I’m just not cut out for a relationship or whatever.”

She knows the last sentence is an intrusive thought. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t have some semblance of meaning.

“That’s stupid,” Jack says. Clementine looks up from the table to look at him sadly. He has a look of fire in his eyes. “The last part, I mean. Not cut out for a relationship? What does that even mean?”

“If that’s not it, what is?” She huffs out. “I just feel like, I’m losing him? Assuming that I had him in the first place, I guess.”

“Clementine,” Luke starts. He never calls her by her government name. “What are you talking about? That boy is head over heels for you. You’ve had him since the moment you two met, I’m pretty sure.”

“Have you guys talked about this?” Jack asks. “Like, actually sat down and talked about how you’re feeling and why you’re upset.”

“How can we talk when I don’t even know why I’m upset?”

“It doesn't need to be, like, extremely coherent. Even if it doesn’t come out pretty or whatever, at least he’d know and stop making assumptions. And as someone who knows Nico, he’s definitely doing that, but probably not talking to you about it because he thinks he’ll just burden you with it.”

Clementine groans. “That’s the crux of it, I think. We’re not talking about the things that matter. We should be able to do that. Because I also think I’m burdening him with my unnecessary problems.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Luke starts. “Cap’s miserable and you’re miserable because you’re not…talking to each other?”

“Well, when you put it like that, I sound like a dumbass.” She picks at her nails. “It’s also more than that. A lot of factors involved.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Jack promises. 

Clementine glares at him. “No. Stay out of it, Jacky. You too, Luke. I’m not putting you guys in the middle of our shit when you have to play with him.”

“I’m not gonna say anything bad,” Jack says. “You said that you feel like he doesn’t wanna talk to you, right? Which I know is a load of bullshit. He, again, probably just thinks he’s bothering you with his shit because that’s how Nico operates. He’s a great captain and will listen to anyone else’s problems, but thinks that no one wants to hear his, which, like you said, is stupid, especially when it comes down to you two. I’ll talk to him, Clee. Give him a little push. And then you two need to talk.”

She turns towards Luke — since when does she trust Luke enough to determine a good idea from a bad one? — who shrugs. “It wouldn’t hurt,” Luke says. “Jack has a way of getting through to Nico like no one else can.”

“Yeah, but that’s on ice stuff. This is off-ice stuff. And something that doesn't involve you guys.”

Jack lets out a little noise at that. “Hate to say it, but the second you guys started dating, we were already involved.”

She sighs. Because he’s right. Again. “I love him,” she says. 

“I know. And he loves you too. No one’s doubting that,” Jack says. The oven beeps and before she can move, Luke rushes to gather the pies. “I won’t overstep, I promise.” 

They let the topic go for the rest of dinner. 

…..

Clementine doesn’t even get the chance to fully swing open the door the next afternoon before Nico’s pulling her into a tight hug. She freezes for a few seconds before melting into his embrace, rubbing her thumbs against the back of his neck as he rests his head on her shoulder. He mumbles something and she asks him to repeat it. 

He straightens up, hands still wrapped around her and clears his throat. “I always want to be around you.”

She blinks, before sighing in realization. “Whatever Jack said, it’s-”

“It’s not about what he said,” Nico says, closing the door behind him. “Not entirely. He just…lit a fire up my ass a bit.”

“A bit too bluntly and with so little tact that would seem rude if it wasn’t coming from Jack?”

Nico snickers. “Yeah.” He calms down and looks at her seriously. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she responds automatically.

“No, I mean,” he pauses and swallows. Clementine knows his wheels are turning. Even after being in North America for almost a decade, sometimes his English fails him and it takes a few moments for him to formulate what he wants to say. “I love you. I always want to be around you. I want to hear about your days at the hospital and I want to kiss you after every win and to hug you after every loss. But most importantly, I want to hear about your thoughts and feelings about everything, and that includes us. I’m sorry that you haven’t felt comfortable to do that lately.”

Her heart lurches and she places her hands on his cheeks. She can’t take the sad, watery eyes. “Hey. Hey. It’s okay. It’s alright. It’s on me too.”

He vehemently shakes his head, his hands reaching to wrap around her wrists. “No, it’s not. I-I’m the one with- you’ve given me so much control, with the season and everything, when you’re just as busy. Probably even busier than me. Shit, you’re literally a doctor. That’s nothing compared to what I do.” 

“Nico-“ 

“I know I need to work on communicating and letting people in. It’s been an issue my whole life. Just ask Nina. I, you know, the team is wonderful and supportive, but I still feel the need to not let them know too much about my struggles, you know? Because I’m supposed to be the leader. But you’re not part of the team. Not in that way. You’re my girlfriend. My best friend. And I need to work on talking things through with you instead of my instinct of shutting down or dealing with it myself.” 

Clementine blinks, taking it in. She’s always known Nico to be self aware, but this is a whole new level. 

He kisses her gently, before pressing his forehead against hers. “I’m sorry. I’ll be better. That’s a promise. You can come to me with anything, even if you don’t think it’ll be something I want to hear. You can trust me. Rely on me. I’ll prove it to you everyday.”

“You don’t need to prove anything to me,” she says, rubbing his cheekbones with her thumbs. “Just…please talk to me? And I also need to work on doing that with you. I know we’re both busy and have our own separate lives-”

“You are a part of my life,” Nico assures. “A huge part. Like yeah, it’s separate with the fact that you have the hospital and your people there and I have hockey and the people there, but not really. We’re a team, right?”

She smiles at him repeating her words back to her face. She had said that once in their phone calls over the summer where she started rambling about how she’s always seen romantic relationships as more than just sweeping each other off their feet. ‘If the two people aren’t on the same team, then what’s the point? Then it’s just two people with a whole lot of feelings who never truly see each other eye to eye’ she had said. 

“Yeah. We’re a team. Since we’re a team, can I propose something?”

“Anything,” Nico rushes out. And it’s so nice to know for sure that he means it. 

“Can we try to do one night a week? Just for us? Unless you’re on a road trip or I have a weird shift schedule for some reason. Obviously, more would be great, but one at the bare minimum?”

Nico hums. “One guaranteed date night with you every week? I think I can manage.”

“You think?” she pokes his side. 

“It’s perfect,” he says with pure sincerity. “You’re perfect.”

She rolls her eyes. “Far from it.”

“False,” he beams, sneaking another kiss. Clementine’s heart feels the lightest it’s felt in weeks. “I can’t believe Jack was right.”

She snorts. “About? Jack’s never right.”

“I know,” he rolls his eyes, before looking at her in a way that makes butterflies flutter in her stomach. “But he was right this time.”

Oh. They’re not talking about the fight anymore. 

…..

(Clementine finally tells Nico everything that day about the overthinking — the tendencies and the topics she was overthinking about this time. He’s rubbing her knee as she talks about how she feels like she has to be setting an example or something because she’s dating him. She knows he wants to interrupt and assure her. She appreciates that he waits until she finishes. 

He reassures her, which is nice, but he realizes that that’s not necessarily what she needs. Clementine just needs someone to listen. And Nico thinks everything she says is always worth listening to. 

But Clementine also likes to be proactive and have tangible next steps, something she and him have in common. So they both come up with the first step: Clementine sends a text to Kristen Haula, who has a lot of experience of just … being the significant other to a professional athlete. Kristen responds quickly and kindly, asking when Clementine has a day off from work where she can come over and they can chat. 

It’s always a breath of relief knowing people want to help with problems that she thinks are stupid. Because they’re usually not stupid. Nico’s there to assure her of that. 

She goes to sleep that night with a smile.)

…..

That conversation is just the start. Because you can say all you want in a relationship, say you need to improve things, but until things are actually done, it doesn’t mean squat. 

She can tell there’s something on Nico’s mind, even in the short phone call as he’s heading to the rink before a game and she’s heading home from the hospital. Clementine asks multiple times if he’s sure he’s okay and he tells her he’s fine, so she lets it go, wishing him good luck and assuring him she’ll be watching. 

The Devils lose 5-1 to Vegas, and it’s so tough to watch that she almost wants to turn it off before it ends, especially after the camera pans to Nico’s face and Jack breaking his stick on the boards in frustration after the final buzzer sounds. A four game losing streak. 

After giving Jack and Luke extra long hugs, Luke burying his face into her shoulder and Jack clutching her t-shirt, she calls Nico as she’s climbing into bed.

“Hey baby.”

“Hi.”

“Don’t beat yourself up too much, okay? Are you back at your place?”

“Yeah. What are you doing awake?”

She swallows at his blunt tone. “I wanted to catch you afterwards.”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Get some sleep.”

“Oh. Okay. Are you sure you don’t wanna talk about it?”

A rustle on his end. “I’m sure.”

“Want me to come by tomorrow morning? I don’t have to head in until the afternoon.”

Silence. “Yeah?” The raspy voice he’s gotten from yelling during the game momentarily makes her smile because she’s always found it so attractive. “Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

“Okay,” she thinks his voice softens. “Yeah. I’d love that.”

“Great. Goodnight, then. I’ll see you in the morning. Sweet dreams. I love you.”

“Goodnight, Schätzli. I love you.”

The next morning, she punches in Nico’s code and walks in to him pouring out a cup of coffee for her. He’s dressed in his typical day off attire: a random t-shirt that she thinks looks unfairly good on him, gray sweatpants and his hair is all messed up. She paddles over to the kitchen.

From behind, she wraps her arms around his waist. “Hi baby.”

“Hey,” he turns in her arms to peck her lips. “You eat yet?” He asks. 

“Mmhmm.”

He hums, following her to the couch and sinking down right next to her. He tucks himself into the blanket with an involuntary hum, burying himself into the pillow, dragging her down so that she’s laying on his chest. She breathes in his scent and automatically smiles. She feels him physically relax. 

“How’s the hospital been?”

Clementine shrugs. “The usual.”

“Tell me more.”

She blinks. Oh, she realizes. And she then talks about random details of her week that don’t actually matter but she’s figured out that sometimes he just likes to listen to her voice. Whether to ground himself, get himself out of his own head or both. He hums in all the right places to show he’s listening, but she also doesn’t really need him to listen about the workplace drama of people having a theory that two of her coworkers are hooking up. 

There’s a lull in the conversation as she listens to his heartbeat. She thinks he might have fallen asleep. She doesn’t dare move to check.

“Eight.”

So he’s not asleep. She taps her fingers on his chest. “Hm?”r

“This is my eighth season in the league. Eighth in Jersey. And I have nothing to show for it.” She swallows. She debates sitting up so she can see him, but she stays still. He sighs. “I feel like we’re just never going to have a good start to the season, and it’s just like this every year and I’m not doing anything right. I can’t shoot. I can’t score. I can’t lead this team.” 

“Nico-“ 

“At this point, if we’re not the team that’s gonna get Jersey to the cup, then who is? It’s always been about potential and things falling into place and sometimes I feel like all of it has and then we end up falling short anyways.” He starts breathing faster and Clementine sits up, holding his hands. She can see the storm in his eyes. “Fuck, I’m the captain. Part of my job is to make sure this doesn’t happen and that when we gain momentum, that we don’t lose it. But it feels like we can’t even gain that momentum so we’re stuck in whatever the hell we’re stuck in. It’s starting to remind me of my first few seasons here, which really fucking sucks and just shouldn’t be where we’re at. Are the pieces ever going to come together like everyone has been saying it will?”

(In the back of her mind, Clementine’s stomach drops because Nico rarely swears, and he just dropped two f bombs in the last 15 seconds)

She squeezes his hands. “Nico. Please listen to me when I say this. It is not all on you. Captain or not, no one is expecting you to carry all of that on your shoulders.” He opens his mouth to counter but she’s quicker. “Nope. I don’t want to hear it. If I’ve learned anything from growing up with three hockey-playing brothers, is that hockey is a team sport. You win together. You lose together. Everything you go through? You go through together.”

“But I feel like I’m not doing anything right.”

“If any single one of your teammates heard you right now, I know they’d smack you in the face.” Clementine says bluntly. “Even before we were dating, from day one of training camp in Jack’s rookie year, when you didn’t even have the C yet, he was already raving to me about how good of a role model you were. You didn’t just get that C just because, Nico. You were and are the best option. I fully believe it. Your teammates respect you so much, baby. I see it with my own eyes every game. And they love and respect you enough to know that this is not all on you. You lead your team so beautifully. It is your team. And fuck the media and what they’re saying. Half of them can’t even hold a stick in their hand or skate. Literally who cares what they think? The outside noise is all bullshit anyways.” She rubs his cheekbones with her thumbs. “I know my words can’t fix the slump you guys are in. But I refuse to let you believe that any of this is entirely your fault. It is anything but. I refuse you to let you believe you’re anything but a good leader. You are the best leader. But you need to put less pressure on yourself over things that are out of your control.”

She lets her words wash over him, as he nods. One of her favorite things about him is that he’s always so expressive, especially in the domestic environment of his apartment under the maroon blanket she knitted him for Christmas. Here he is, not under any arena lights, just in his home away from home, trying to find some grounding. She places a kiss on his forehead and he practically falls into her touch.

“Everything about you always helps,” Nico whispers. “Thank you.”

“No need,” she smiles as his cheek rests on her stomach, arms wrapped around her waist in a tight embrace. “It’s okay to be frustrated and upset, honey. I get it. But you’re gonna drive yourself insane if you keep holding all this weight on your shoulders. Share it with others. Share it with your teammates. Share it with me. It’s what we’re here for.” Nico mutters something in German and she snorts. “English, please.”

“I don’t want to share it with you if it means I’m gonna explode and scare you. That’s the last thing I want to do.”

Clementine blinks, digesting that statement. She picks her words carefully. “It’s more than okay to show emotions. Any psychologist would tell you it’s healthy to do so. The fact that you’re afraid at the idea of scaring me is probably a good indicator that you won’t. And please. Give me some credit. I don’t get scared easily.” She leans down to press a kiss in his hair. “I mean it. Share the burdens, baby. We all want to help.” 

He hums and she lets him play with her fingers before she has to go to work. 

…..

There were cons to not living near the boys for eight years — missing big moments and not having their presence around all the time being the two biggest ones. 

But there were pros too. Such as, not being a part of moments that she would rather be anywhere else for. She doesn’t know who gave the three boys the sex talk (it probably was Quinn, but who gave it to him?) and she knows that if she had been in Toronto or Michigan during that time, she would’ve begrudgingly done it and hated every second. 

If she thinks about it too much, it’s kinda incredible how she hasn’t encountered this particular situation yet. 

This particular situation being this: Clementine’s just come back from an overnight shift she got let off early from, exhausted to her bones but not exhausted enough to be immobile. On the drive back from the station, she was debating whether to stop by her favorite deli or make her own brunch. She ultimately decided that there are too many things in the fridge to justify her going to the deli. Maybe next week. 

So now here she is, preparing her feta egg bake thing that she saw on TikTok, a mix of vegetables drizzled in olive oil and various herbs sitting on the counter on another tray, ready to go into the oven. She hears the front door open and glaces at the clock on the microwave. Morning skate must’ve been earlier than normal today. 

“Hello?” Luke’s voice calls out. 

“In the kitchen!”

She hears two pairs of footsteps come closer, assuming that Jack is with him. Though if she had stopped to think about it, she would’ve automatically thought it was weird that he didn’t call out a greeting either. She turns around, half smile planted on her face. The half smile doesn’t exactly drop at the sight of the unknown blonde girl next to him. Just turns more confused. Before Clementine can say anything, Luke speaks up. 

“Hey. I didn’t think you’d be home until later.”

“They let me out early,” she searches her mind quickly, trying to see how to ask who the fuck is in their kitchen without sounding like a bitch. 

Luckily, Luke does it for her. He clears his throat. “Uh, Clemmy, this is Ava. Ava, Clemmy. Or, Clementine, I guess.”

Clementine decides to put him out of his misery a bit. She hopes her smile is friendly enough. “Nice to meet you, Ava.”

“Same here. Are you Jack’s girlfriend?”

Before she can stop herself, she snickers. “He fucking wishes.”

“That’s Amelie,” Luke corrects. “Clemmy’s dating Nico, my captain.”

Ava’s eyes widen. “Oh. I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay,” Clementine waves away her apology easily. “A lot of names. A lot of characters. Speaking of, where is Jack?”

“Dropped him off at Amelie’s after practice, actually. She’s totally gonna kill me though. I think she has to head to Philly later.”

“She’s definitely gonna kill you. Have you two eaten yet?” She asks politely. 

Ava nods. “We did. Thank you so much though.”

“Anytime.” Luke makes a move to lead Ava to his room and Clementine immediately gets the hint. “If you change your mind, our fridge is open to all. I live here, which means there should be something edible.”

“Hey!” Luke protests. The two girls laugh. “Thanks though. Are you heading to Cap’s?”

Clementine shrugs. “I was going to eat, nap and maybe head over later, but I also didn’t know your morning skate was earlier than normal. Maybe I’ll go over to his and use him as my pillow.”

“Don’t drive if you’re too tired,” Luke warns, sounding entirely too much like Jack. “Hisch can wait if needed.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She waves her spatula at them. “Alright. I’m off an overnight shift, so you know what that means.”

Luke rolls his eyes as Ava looks between them curiously. “Your social battery is at its lowest and you’ll start snapping soon.” Ava looks amused and Clementine grins. “C’mon, Ava. Let’s go to my room.”

“It was nice to meet you,” Ava says. 

“Likewise,” Clementine responds. The second Luke’s door shuts, she puts the feta egg bake and the vegetables in the oven and immediately grabs her phone, thumbing over to her text chain with Nico. 

Clementine Sandoval 

lol just had a major big sister moment 

She gets a reply in seconds. 

Nico Hischier 

???

A moment you haven’t already experienced?

Clementine Sandoval 

luke just came home with a girl I’ve never met before 

Nico Hischier 

In the day time? Lol

Does Jack know about this? 

Clementine Sandoval 

lol i’m assuming not

i def would’ve heard about it by now 

luke’s not that stupid if he wanted to keep it quiet (which it seems like he does) jack would be the last person he’d tell 

Nico Hischier 

You do realize I’m their captain, right? 

I could very well be with Jack right now. He could be looking over my shoulder

Clementine Sandoval 

please i’m not an amateur 

luke already told me he dumped jack at amelie’s 

what are you doing the rest of the day?

Nico Hischier 

Sitting on my coach and staring at the wall waiting for my beautiful girlfriend to come by after she takes her nap  

Clementine Sandoval 

whipped 

any chance i can come by earlier and nap at yours? didn’t know you guys had an earlier skate 

Nico Hischier 

Door will be unlocked ❤️

Clementine Sandoval

???? your door has a code 

but thanks 🩵🩵 i’ll come by after i eat

After her food is cooked thoroughly, she eats quickly, flicking through emails on her laptop. She can hear a movie playing through Luke’s laptop in his room and murmured voices through the door. As she’s cleaning up and getting ready to head out, she debates on whether she should tell Luke or not. She probably should, because then he’ll start worrying, which is something that she’s noticed all the brothers have done more as they’ve gotten older. 

“Luke!” She calls, “I’m heading out.”

“Okay,” she hears his voice through his door. “Are you coming back for dinner?”

“Not sure yet. I’ll text you.”

“Okay!”

Clementine chuckles before grabbing her stuff and closing the front door behind herself. 

Nico snorts as she’s retelling what happened, sipping on a cup of coffee. Clementine’s rambling to the max, sitting up on his kitchen counter and swinging her legs, not stopping even as Nico slips himself inbetween them and plants his hands on her thighs. 

Suddenly, she trails off with a yawn. He chuckles softly before engulfing her in a hug, kissing her neck softly. “Couch or bed?” 

“You don’t like just lounging on your bed.”

“But it’s your nap time and you like my bed.”

She plays with his hair, placing her cup of coffee down carefully. “Couch.”

“Okay,” he hums, helping her off the counter. “Is there anything I need to wake you up for later?”

“I made some sort of promise a few days ago that I’d cook Jack and Luke dinner, and I feel bad that I haven’t done it yet.”

“They can come over here and we can both cook them something.”

“You have groceries in your fridge?”

He gives her a look as she giggles. He tosses a blanket over her. “Sleep before you start getting sassier on me.”

Clementine hums, eyes already drooping. She tugs at his shirt as he’s about to leave. “Stay.”

“Baby-”

“Just until I fall asleep,” she grins as he climbs in, immediately burying her head into his chest as his arm wraps around her. She hums, eyes already shut. “I love you,” she murmurs against the cotton of his shirt.

She feels the gentlest kiss on her forehead before drifting off to sleep.

…..

Clementine loves being able to switch her brain during a live hockey game. Unless she gets a call from anyone at the hospital — which hasn’t happened yet — any good hockey game can turn her often overtired and overstimulated brain off. 

So when Sarah, one of the staffers she frequently runs into at Devils games, comes up to her row, Clementine’s immediately standing up. “Sarah? What are you doing up here?”

“Can you come with me for a second?” At Clementine’s concerned stare, Sarah continues quickly. “Nothing bad! Just want your help on something medical related.” 

“Medical related?” Clementine stands up and starts following Sarah. 

“One of the kids in the Islanders box hurt herself and I’m pretty sure it’s just a sprained ankle, but you work with kids so I figured you could give another opinion and calm her down, maybe? If you don’t mind, of course.”

Clementine breathes out a sigh of relief. This she can handle. “I don’t mind at all. Jesus, Sarah. I thought it was something more serious.”

Sarah grimaces. “Sorry. Again, I just want a second opinion. I’m sorry to interrupt you watching the-”

“I get it. And hey, I’ve watched dozens of games by now.” They arrive at the visitor’s suite and somehow, Clementine feels immediately at home even though there’s an adorable blonde girl crying on the floor with her mother kneeling down next to her. 

Clementine bends down and sits on the back of her heels. “Hi cutie. My name is Clementine. I’m here to help you, okay?” The mom, who is drop dead gorgeous, mutters some encouraging words to her daughter. “Can you tell me what happened, sweetie?”

Inbetween hiccups, the young girl explains that she was running around because her dad had just scored a goal but had run into a chair and had fallen backwards and now her ankle really hurts and if it’s broken she won’t get to play with her friends at recess. Clementine softly shushes her and calms her down before asking if she can take a look. The young girl nods and Clementine gingerly takes her ankle, rolling up her jeans. She speaks to the girl softly (who Clementine learns is named Winnie), asking about who she’s here to see and the game and anything else to keep her distracted while she does her routine checks. 

Clementine taps her ankle. “Well, good news, Winnie. It’s only swollen, which won’t require going to the hospital. I’m just gonna wrap it up for you and get you some ice to keep on it, okay? And lots of rest, which means no running around for a bit.” She nods thankfully at Sarah, who runs to grab some bandages and an ice pack. 

“Does that mean I get to watch Disney all day tomorrow?” Winnie asks. 

Clementine laughs. “That’s gonna be a decision your mama has to make.” She turns to the gorgeous blonde again with a smile. “Everything’s all fine. Just lots of rest and ice and she’ll be good in no time. You can give her children’s motrin if she complains that it hurts too much, but it shouldn’t if she isn’t moving it around.”

“Thank you so much,” she says gratefully, putting her hand out. “I’m Sydney. It’s nice to meet you. I’m really sorry for interrupting your game.”

Clementine waves her away. “It’s no problem at all. I’ve seen a bunch of these, so I’m not too pressed.”

“Are you a doctor?”

“Not yet technically. I’m in my second year of residency with pediatrics and ER. But I promise I know what I’m doing.”

“Oh, no! I trust you, don’t worry. You have a very calming presence.”

“Well, your daughter is super sweet. So I’m sure you have a lot to do with that.”

Sydney beams. “You’re so sweet! Thank you.” 

“Who are you here for?”

“Number 17. Matt Martin. He’s my husband. How about you?”

Clementine chuckles, as Sarah comes back with the supplies and Clementine wraps the bandage around Winnie’s ankle. “Depends who you ask.”

“Oh?”

“Well, I grew up with Luke and Jack. 43 and 86. But I’m dating Nico. Number 13.”

“That’s the captain, right?”

“It is.” 

Clementine’s surprise must show through her voice because Sydney laughs. “Honestly, I don’t know why I know that. I blame my past journalist self who picks up on details quickly. Or the Devils and Islanders being in the same division.”

“That’s completely fair. I feel like I know too much about hockey for someone who never played.”

“It’s an added layer when we choose who we surround ourselves with, right?” Sydney says and Clementine nods with a smile. “Where are you doing your residency?”

“I’m mainly at NYC Health and Hospitals / Bellevue. First and 28th.”

“Do you live in the city?”

“Oh, no. Though that’s probably smarter, right?” They both laugh. “No, I live with Jack and Luke in Hoboken. They kinda begged, and it saves me money, and I don’t mind the commute.”

Sydney looks around for Winnie, who’s hanging out with one of the other Isles wives and is occupied. “Am I keeping you from someone? Thank you again for all your help.”

“No, not at all! Decided to come out solo tonight.”

Sydney then nods to two empty seats against the glass. “Come sit with me?”

Clementine just smiles and follows her to the seat as Winnie runs at her legs. The two women laugh as Clementine picks her up and sits her on her hip. 

She leaves that night with a new number in her phone. Jack whines about her “befriending the enemy” as Luke cackles. Nico just grins, because he knows what it’s like to be captivated by her energy instantly. 

*****

Clementine’s reading on Nico’s couch when she hears him groan loudly from the kitchen. When she doesn’t hear an explanation, she finishes the sentence and looks up. 

“Everything okay?” 

“No,” he grumbles, walking back in and typing something rapidly on his phone. “The rookies and the young guys went out and got way too drunk and called me by accident. I literally couldn’t understand more than two words of what Shea was saying.” 

“How are they getting home?” 

Nico sighs and picks up his keys. “I’m getting them. I don’t trust them to not puke all over an Uber right now.” 

“But you trust them to not puke in your car?”

“I’ll tell them to aim out the window.” 

Clementine snorts, standing up. “You drank earlier. I’ll drive.” 

Nico blinks. “I didn’t drink that much.” 

“Don’t care. I’m driving. How many of them are there?” 

Nico looks at his phone, presumably his texts, to confirm. “Five. But apparently Luke called Jack so he’s coming too.” Nico laughs, reading another text. “And Amelie. Must be a similar vibe at the Hughes apartment tonight.” 

“It was. Amelie told me they were having a chill date night too.” She quickly goes to Nico’s room to toss on one of his Devils sweatshirts. She comes back out and sticks her hand out as Nico slips on his shoes. “Keys. And grab a few trash bags, please.”  

Nico obeys before they’re both out the door, his hand naturally brushing against her back as they wait for the elevator. “I’m sorry.”

“For?”

“All of this.”

She snorts as the elevators doors shut. “Don’t need to apologize for your teammates acting their age.”

“Yeah, but it’s not your responsibility to deal with that.”

“It’s yours though.”

He furrows his eyebrows. “I’m not following.”

She rises on her tiptoes to kiss him, to which he responds with enthusiasm despite his confusion. “Your boys, my boys, no?” She murmurs against his lips, letting him steal two more kisses. “I’m dating you. You’re the captain of an NHL team. You look out for the guys. Therefore, so do I.”

Nico shakes his head with a fond smile as the elevator doors open and he shuffles them both to the garage, his hands steadily on her hips. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Been told that once or twice in my life,” she dodges his pokes as they walk to the car. 

It only takes them 15 minutes before they’re in front of a bar. Nico pulls in right next to Jack’s car and Clementine laughs as all four of them get out of their cars at the same time. One look at Amelie tells her that she probably was dragged out of bed to come here.

She nods at the younger girl as they trail behind their boyfriends walking into the bar. “Chauffeur?” 

Amelie smiles wryly, handing her a few bottles of water for whoever is coming in Nico’s car. “No. I’m the one who actually opened the wine tonight. But I don’t trust Jack to wrangle these guys by himself. Also, he promised he’d get me lunch from my favorite place tomorrow before I have to drive to Long Island.”

Clementine whistles. “Good girlfriend you are.”

Amelie tosses an arm around Clementine’s shoulders, which makes the latter grin. Amelie had been a bit shyer when they met at the start of the season, but she likes to think she’s cracked the photographer’s exterior a bit. They walk into the bar and just follow the guys, who quickly find their teammates. Clementine only raises an eyebrow as Seamus stumbles to give Nico a hug, almost taking out Simon in the process, who looks like he’s about to either fall asleep or throw up any minute. Jack is subtly steering glasses of alcohol away from Alex as he’s chatting away to Luke. Clementine’s half convinced he’s speaking Swedish and Luke’s too drunk to realize. She scans the bar to find the last straggler and chuckles when she sees Nico (little Nico, she affectionately calls him) come out of the bathroom. He brightens up when he sees the older girl and Clementine laughs loudly as he almost falls into her arms. 

She, Nico, Jack and Amelie corral everyone into the two cars — Luke, Alex and Nico riding with Jack and Amelie and Seamus and Simon with Clementine and Nico, all purely based on proximity. Clementine gives both Amelie and Jack hugs before climbing into the drivers seat. She gives Seamus and Simon each bottles of water as she starts the engine. 

“Drink. The whole thing. Both of you.” She commands. She peeks through the rearview mirror to make sure they do. 

“I’m waiting for the lecture, Mrs. Cap.” Seamus groans out.

Clementine snorts. “No lecture from me. But you guys do remember that you have a team meeting tomorrow, do you?”

“How do you know that?” 

Nico snorts as an answer as Clementine rolls her eyes. “How much did you guys have?”

“I stopped counting after the third round of shots,” Seamus says. Simon might have fallen asleep for all she knows.  

“And who bought that round?” Nico asks. 

“Luke,” Seamus and Clementine say simultaneously. She hears Simon groan, so he’s not asleep. Nico just chuckles. 

It only takes 30 minutes to get them both safely home and to get back to Nico’s apartment. It’s almost 2 a.m. by the time they get back. Clementine gets comfortable fast, with Nico’s body pressed up against hers. The last conscious thought she has before drifting off to sleep is that she wants to do this with him for the rest of her life. 

The first thing she hears when she wakes up is a bunch of male voices. She squints at her phone. 10:27 a.m. Team meeting started at 10. She yawns and rolls out of bed, washing her face and brushing her teeth before deciding to go fix up a quick breakfast for herself before locking herself in Nico’s room so the team can do whatever they do during team meetings. 

The voices all halt as she nears the living room. Any other situation she would be a bit embarrassed perhaps, but frankly, they all know and should’ve expected this. And they’re in her apartment. Or Nico’s. But it also might as well be ours. 

She offers a lazy salute. “Morning boys.” A chorus of greetings echoes and Clementine chuckles. “Don’t mind me. I’ll be out of your hair in a second.”

“You can stay,” Nico says softly with a smile from where he’s standing behind the couch. She just waves him off, pours out a cup of coffee, quickly fixes herself some hummus toast with feta on top and slips back into his room. 

She sets her food down carefully on the bedside table and eats while scrolling through her email and social media. She even puts her headphones in so she’s not tempted to listen to the guys through the wall.

It’s about a half an hour later when she hears a faint knock on the door. She calls out a “come in” and takes out her Airpods with a smile when Nico peeks his head in.

“Hi Schatz.”

“Hey. What’s up?”

“The boys wanna say hi,” she opens her mouth to protest but he beats to her to it. “We’re pretty much done. Pizza’s coming any minute so we’re just chilling out now.”

Clementine grabs her empty plate and mug, rising up to her toes to press a kiss on his cheek. “Breaking the diet?”

“We just won a tough back to back. We deserve it.”

“Sure you do,” she chuckles as he playfully swats her butt. They walk back out into the living room together and she rolls her eyes as everyone cheers. Nico heads back to the living room as she heads into the kitchen to start another pot of coffee, politely nudging Dawson and Dougie out of her way. 

Nico’s apartment is spacious, but twenty plus hockey players all crowding around make it feel much smaller than normal. Clementine decides to swing herself on top of the counter to chat with Luke and John, mostly content with listening to them talk.

When she hears a chorus of laughter, she turns to the living room to see what’s going on to already see quite a few of the guys looking at her. She raises an eyebrow at Nico, who she swears has a slight blush painting his cheeks. But he doesn’t shy away and beams at her instead. With some boldness, she bounces over to him, squeezing in beside him on the couch. He leans into her touch automatically. She wonders if this is a side of their captain his team hasn’t seen much before. 

That last thought has her hesitant for a second, but as if Nico can sense it, he takes her hand off his shoulder and kisses the back of it before going back to a previous conversation with Jesper. Her hand remains in his. She catches Timo’s close-lipped smile and Nate’s visible delight. Clementine just sends them a wink before leaning into Nico’s side. 

Without missing a beat in laughing at something Jesper says, Nico places a kiss in her hair. 

(Later, as the team is starting to filter out of Nico’s apartment, Jonas pulls him aside. Nico is immediately on high alert when Jonas decidedly switches to their native language. They don’t do that often during the season.

“She’s great. Clementine,” Jonas starts.

Nico’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Yeah? You think so?”

“Yeah,” they both look over to the other side of the living room, where she’s in the midst of a playful debate about something with Jack and Jesper. Though from the way she punches Jack in the arm, maybe it’s not so playful. “I know we met at the end of last season, but I wanted to give it some time. She’s weirdly perfect for you.”

“Spit it out, Jonas,” Nico stares at him. 

Jonas just stares back for a bit before letting out a small chuckle. “I’m really happy for you, truly. You deserve someone like her.”

“Like her?”

“Yeah. Someone smart, beautiful and who will be just as all in as you are.” 

Nico looks down at his feet, heat rising up his neck all of a sudden. “She’s the best, really. Kinda keeps me sane without even trying.”

“That’s all you can ask for from a partner,” Jonas pats his shoulder once before calling out a goodbye to everyone. 

Clementine rushes over to give Jonas a quick goodbye hug. Nico feels himself falling and not wanting anyone to catch him.)

…..

The universe is on their side for the 10 year anniversary of Miguel’s death, with the Canucks scheduled to play in town the day after. Ellen, Jim, Quinn, Jack, Amelie, Luke, Maeve, Clementine and Nico all go out to brunch on New Year’s Day, before heading to the cemetery. 

They’re all bundled up as they lay out a few blankets, lay down their flowers and some of Miguel’s favorite food and snacks. The cemetery is quiet, but it’s quickly filled with everyone’s laughter as they share their favorite memories and reminisce. Quite a few tears are shed and the tissue box is passed around often. 

When they’re about to leave, everyone gets their individual moments by his tombstone to pay their last respects. Clementine and Maeve let the Hughes’s go first, hands intertwined with each other. Then, Clementine and Maeve step up and the young woman swallows, her mom’s head falling on her shoulder. With one last squeeze, Maeve steps back and gently ushers Nico to stand next to his girlfriend despite his gentle protests. 

The second she feels Nico’s arm draping across her back, Clementine lets out a sob as she buries part of her face into his jacket. It’s not a sad sob, but it’s not a happy one. She’s happy he’s here with her. She wishes her dad could meet him and love him as much as she knows he would. 

Once they reach the bottom of the hill, Quinn reaches out to squeeze her hand. She keeps her right hand in his as Nico’s pressed against her left side. She stares ahead at her mother pressed between Ellen and Jim with Jack, Amelie and Luke right behind them in a similar embrace.

The birds are chirping. The sound of the wind is made even more noticeable as it whistles through the leaves. The sun is shining, not a single cloud in the sky.

Clementine feels peace settle into her heart.

[dindjarindiaries]

Clouded

summary: One year after Eriadu, you and Hunter unknowingly seek one another for comfort, achieving a new kind of vulnerability that could change everything.

pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x reader

tags: mentions of character death (tech), angst & fluff, grief, hurt/comfort

rating: T

note: This story is being done in collaboration with @p-aulinart, whose “Hunter's mental health runs” WIP completely inspired this. The drawing will be available on her blog soon!

word count: 3.101k

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

Even Pabu seemed to hold the weight of this day within the dark clouds that hid the sun from view. It cast a gloomful shadow across the island, swallowing up all its life in the same way grief often did. For you and the rest of the Batch, that feeling was all too familiar—especially today.

Today marked one full year since Eriadu.

You exhaled and held the mug of tea even tighter between your hands. The stone underneath your elbows was rough, but it was more welcome than the sharp ache that tore across your chest each time you let your thoughts and memories linger. The fast pace of the last year had helped to distract you all from the inevitability of this day arriving, no matter how painful those events were.

It wasn’t lost on you, any of you, that you only had the peace you had now because of him. His sacrifice had meant something, and while it should have made it better, it still didn’t erase any of the pain.

Everyone was dealing with it in their own ways today. Wrecker had already embarked on a fishing trip with some of the other islanders. Omega was with Lyana, who was no doubt acting as her perfect distraction. Crosshair didn’t want to see another soul, which meant you wouldn’t be seeing him again until tomorrow at the earliest. You were seeking reassurance in nature, letting the painful memories wash over you like the waves lapping at Pabu’s shore.

Hunter was harder to figure out. It was ironic, considering he was the one you knew the best of all. But he had grown less and less communicative as this day lurked closer, and hiding his emotions was a skill he had mastered as greatly as those he used in battle. It was the reason why you still had yet to make a breakthrough in your relationship that had certainly crossed all the necessary lines.

Your lips pulled tight as you blew another worried exhale through your nostrils. Your worry for him swallowed you up almost as much as your grief did.

It was still early in the morning on the island. Even without the dark clouds overhead, the sun would only just be starting to shine. It was quiet, and while that would usually give you peace, today it was unsettling. It gave you too much freedom to think, to remember.

And the sky looked too much like the clouds did when you were up that high on Eriadu, the ones that had ultimately hidden him from view as he…

You stopped that thought by focusing on lifting your mug to your lips and drawing a long sip of your tea. Blinking back the tears, you lowered your drink and closed your eyes, hanging your head and steadying yourself with a few breaths.

You forced your thoughts to go to Echo, and you hoped he was surrounded by enough support from Rex and the others to get through this day without the rest of you. Even though this wasn’t the first time Echo had to grieve someone on an anniversary like this, no loss was easier than another. You made a mental note to try to comm him later if you could.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps crunching over the landscape. You opened your eyes and lifted your head, looking down from where you still stood just a few levels above the shore. A distant figure was getting closer as they jogged along, and it easily became apparent who it was.

Even just seeing Hunter caused the worried knot in your chest to loosen, but he quickly tied a new one deeper within you. The humidity on Pabu had led him to forego a shirt, and as he slowed to a stop right in front of you, it became easier to see the glistening beads of sweat that clung to his toned muscles. His chest heaved as he set one hand on his hip and raised the other to push some of the curling strands of hair away from his face.

Damn. It was like the galaxy had heard your silent plea for a sweet distraction from the tumultuous turmoil of this day and delivered in the best way possible.

It was impossible not to stare, even if he hadn’t noticed you yet. That alone was still concerning; his senses should have been able to pick up on you quite easily at this distance. Your brow furrowed as you forced yourself to focus on his expression. His brown eyes, normally golden when the Pabu sun decided to shine, were even darker than usual before he shut them tight.

You clutched your cup of tea when you noticed his set jaw and quivering lips. It wasn’t exhaustion that had stopped his run. That wasn’t even what was causing his chest to heave.

Hunter reopened his eyes and looked down at his waist, reaching to the side you couldn’t see at this angle and taking something from it. When he held it in both his hands, treating it with all the care in the galaxy, your fractured heart shattered within your withering chest.

He had taken Tech’s broken goggles from Shep’s collection, where Omega had left them for safekeeping.

You lifted a hand to cup your mouth as you continued to monitor Hunter. His left thumb had only just traced the indicator light when he closed his eyes again. Hunter lowered his forehead to the goggles at the same time his body lowered into a crouch, as if he was folding in on himself entirely. Then, his shoulders started to heave again.

You couldn’t stand by any longer. You left your tea where it was for now and hopped over and across the stone that separated you from him and the shore. Taking extra care not to alarm him, especially in such a fragile, vulnerable state, you kept your footsteps steady. By the time you reached him, he had sat fully on the shore, the goggles pressed between his head and his propped-up knees.

As badly as you wanted to touch him for reassurance, you kept your hands to yourself, instead giving him a worried once-over as you spoke in a soft voice. “Hunter…”

If you were going to say something else, it was completely lost on you, especially the moment he raised his head and revealed his misty eyes to you. The air was knocked from your lungs as if someone had shoved you against the ground. You had been with this squad long enough to share in their lowest moments, but never before had Hunter let you see him with tears in his eyes.

And here he was, not only sharing that vulnerability for a moment, but also freeing a hand from the tight grasp he had on Tech’s goggles to wrap around your arm. The gentle tug he gave it was the only invitation, or desperate plea, you needed to act.

You took your place beside him, and you were ready for him when he all but crashed against you. The hand that had been on your arm wrapped across your back, his fist catching the material of your tunic as his face buried itself against the inside of your shoulder. You secured one arm around him and lifted the other to the back of his head to keep him there.

If this, your embrace, was where he needed to be right now, then you were going to make him feel as safe as possible within it.

You didn’t say anything, because there was nothing you could offer that would dull the pain. Hunter’s hand that still clutched the broken goggles to his chest made that sentiment even more true. You just rested your head against his and looked out upon the cloudy Pabu horizon.

The light in such a moment of darkness was that Hunter had ended up in exactly the right place at the right time, which brought warmth to your chest. The place he had run to was the same place you were planning on spending this morning. It was a spot you had shown him a while ago, on a night where you were hoping to make a breakthrough with him.

If you had only known then that he just needed a little more time, even if this wasn’t the way you planned on earning such vulnerability from him.

You sat with him until he was ready. Hunter lifted his head from your shoulder, and you loosened your grasp on him. His hand slid over your back until it found your hand, which he gently interweaved with his own—as if the movement was as natural as breathing. The corners of your mouths pulled up in a small smile, though it faltered when you caught sight of his bloodshot eyes.

Hunter’s gaze couldn’t meet yours, and he kept his focus on the goggles again as he spoke. “He should be here.” His voice was so genuinely distraught that it was almost unrecognizable, even lower and hoarser than usual.

Your free hand cupped his cheek to brush a fallen tear away from his eye. You still didn’t say anything, instead giving him another once-over as you waited to see if he had more to offer.

“He deserved to see what he gave us.” Hunter looked up, his gaze scanning the Pabu civilization behind you. “This life. I was supposed to keep him safe so that he could.”

You clicked your tongue and shook your head at him. The hand you kept against the tattooed side of his face had started to run soothing strokes with your thumb across his damp skin. “It was his own sacrifice. His own decision.” You offered him a reassuring nod, though his eyes still couldn’t meet yours. “He chose to let us get away safely.”

Hunter’s grasp on the goggles tightened, but not nearly enough to further fracture the broken glass. “And who put him in that position?” It was then that his stare found yours, void of any of its usual sparkle. His voice faltered when he answered his own question. “I did.”

You frowned. “You all knew the risks with every single mission you did. You think those guys were ever too scared to tell you no?” The light tease at least earned you a small sparkle in Hunter’s eyes. That was a major win in your book. “If Tech didn’t agree with your directive, he would’ve said as much. I mean, it was Tech. He wouldn’t have been able to help himself.”

Hunter huffed, and the small smile that tugged at the corners of his lips overwhelmed you with a wave of relieved warmth. He looked down at the goggles again, but this time, his brow was lifted in fondness. “True.”

You traced the outline of the tattoo on his cheekbone. “And he wouldn’t have wanted you to spend the life he gave you carrying a burden of guilt that isn’t yours to bear.”

Hunter looked at you again. His gaze was searching, and you never once looked away as you went on.

“‘Adapt and move on.’ Isn’t that what he used to say?”

Hunter held his breath before he responded with a single nod. As he exhaled, his entire body began to relax, including the tight grasp he had taken on both your hand and Tech’s goggles.

“That’s obviously much more easily said than done, but…” you paused, raising your gaze to the cloudy sky for a moment as you thought, “try to think of what he would have wanted you to do rather than what you think you were supposed to do.”

Hunter blinked a few times as he processed your words. He looked down, but this time, his focus was on your entwined hands. Another small smile appeared on his lips as he let out a soft chuckle. “I know what he would’ve wanted me to do.”

You brightened. “Yeah?”

Hunter nodded. “Yeah.”

He didn’t say anything else. Your brow started to rise. “What is it?”

Hunter kept looking at your hands, his thumb circling yours before he spoke. “Like you said before, Tech could never help himself. If he noticed or knew something that no one else was acknowledging, he just had to point it out himself.”

You hummed when he paused. Hunter’s stare rose to yours.

“One of the last things he ever approached me about in private was…” his chest inflated with an uncertain breath, “us.”

Your brow shot up in disbelief. Hunter set down Tech’s goggles in his lap and raised his hand to your wrist, gently lowering yours from his face to set it between his own and yours that were still entwined.

Hunter let out a soft huff. “I don’t know if it was what he was experiencing with Phee or what.” You smiled at that, even if it reminded you of another fracture in your heart. You would have to comm her later too to make sure she was holding up okay. “But Tech told me what he saw between us, and it didn’t make sense to him that I wasn’t acting upon it.”

You were beaming, ready to fold entirely for him, but you still held on to your resolve and quirked up an eyebrow. “And why didn’t he tell me the same thing?”

Hunter was trying to fight a guilty smile as his gaze found Tech’s goggles again. “Because he knew I was the only one standing in our way.”

You let out a soft laugh. “Well, he’s not the only one who knew that.”

Hunter looked back up at you. His brow was furrowed in severity, but before you could rush to reassure him that you were joking, he spoke in a firm yet achingly soft voice. “Then it’s time for me to get out of our way.”

Your lips parted at the genuine weight of his words. Hunter’s gaze flickered between them and your eyes, a silent invitation that wasn’t necessary—because you were already closing the gap.

The moment your mouth met his, an unprecedented warmth washed over you, as if the clouds had parted to finally let the bright sun shine once again. You parted from Hunter to realize that’s exactly what had happened. Overhead, the gray clouds hovering over Pabu began to split, allowing the bright sun and blue sky to take over.

Real subtle, Tech. Of course he was still within the clouds. In your mind, he had never left them, even when they had hidden him from sight that day.

Hunter’s gentle hand wrapped around the back of your neck to bring you back to him. Your smile melted against his as you lifted your free hand to his chest, running it along the warmth of his skin until you reached the back of his head. Your fingers caught the curling strands of hair and held on to them, minding the sensitivity he would have to the feeling as you kept him in place.

But Hunter was the one who wanted you closer. He eased the goggles into a safer position before inviting you to take their previous place, all while he continued to meet each passionate, desperate stroke you offered. It fueled your shared fire of longing even more, causing your entwined hands to unravel as you kept one in his hair and let the other explore.

No one would see. That’s why you had picked this spot. But even if they did, you didn’t care. Not when you had finally gotten the breakthrough you’d been waiting too long for.

You parted only when your lungs demanded it, though you rested your forehead against his. Lazy yet pleased smiles were exchanged between you as you gently panted in time with one another. Now that the Pabu sun had emerged, your back was to it, and its golden glow was catching the flecks in Hunter’s gaze.

Breathtaking, even more so than his kiss had been.

The beautiful sight of them was taken from you when he closed his eyes and let out a soft chuckle. He reopened them and looked down at the goggles that sat on a rock nearby. “Thanks, Tech.”

You laughed, closing your own eyes as your nose brushed his. “Is this what you planned on doing today?”

“No, but… I’m not surprised.” You reopened your eyes when you sensed Hunter’s stare on you. He was beaming. “Tech was always the best problem solver.”

You smiled, leaning away from him only to make your observation of him even more obvious. “Well, you certainly dressed for the part.”

Hunter gave himself a quick once-over, as if he had only just realized what he was—or wasn’t—wearing. A blush crept up his neck, and he tried to shrug it off while you laughed. “It’s too warm here to go on runs with a shirt.”

You raised your brow. “Really?” You drummed your fingers against his bare chest. “Or were you just hoping I’d notice?”

Hunter’s blush intensified, but he still managed to let a charming smile shine. “Maybe a little bit of both.”

You hummed and wrapped your arms around his neck, this time letting yourself fall into his embrace rather than vice versa. Hunter held you close, his warm skin muffling your words as you spoke. “At least you can have a workout partner, now.”

Hunter was surprisingly quick with his cheeky response. “What kind of workout?”

You burst out laughing and shook your head. “You’re really wasting no time, are you?”

You caught the sight of Tech’s goggles nearby. The heavy weight of what you’d been feeling all morning threatened to return, but you leaned further into Hunter in a silent plea for him to take some of it for you. He did.

“Let’s just get through this day first.”

Hunter’s agreement came in the form of his comfort, which was his head resting against yours. This grief wouldn’t disappear, but at least now, you had someone to share it with—and so did he. Everything else would fall into place soon enough.

All thanks to Tech.

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

hunter tag list: @zenrobbins0021 @cw80831 @yunggoblin @maddiedrmr @Molmcb @jellybeanstacey0519 @violetlilly2020

[alpydk]

A second prompt!

Tav had to survive the main story because they have vengence to dole out on someone from their past. When the day finally comes, either they can't do it or someone else (maybe Gale?) gets to the target first.

~🐕

Greetings Anon! Thank you for the precious angst prompts which I'm taking at random. I present you with the first one, which, as they always do, went a little off course and probably hasn't gone as you want it... Oops. But I hope you like it and it does have angst!

Red Roses

Word Count - 1513 words - CW - Angst, grief, God!Gale, themes of death, attempts at poetry.

It started with red roses, The smiling of a wife And flowers bloomed with welcome sun The beginning of my life.

Tav looked over the letter for some time after the party, the heartbreak apparent to everyone around her. It had been six months since the defeat of the Netherbrain and their minds had become their own, but it didn’t take tadpoles to know the thoughts running through her head. Gale had been there only moments before, power emanating from his pores, his eyes aglow like starlight, and she had fallen to the floor as he’d left her with nothing but the tears she’d held onto in hope now falling so readily.

This was not the first loss the high elf had been through before in her long life. There had been the human friends who’d passed because of their short lifespans, there had been the authors and poets dead to adventure, there had been so many during the Thay war, and the pain remained the same, but the loss of a loved one never got any easier. After the death of her first husband, she’d sworn never to love again, and she’d become cold to the world around her, refusing to share her past or open up to others. It was only as she’d journeyed with Gale that Tav had found herself back in her memories of her first love.

“Ascal, the poetry can wait,” she whispered, leaning over the shoulder of the chestnut-haired elf. He smelt of birch tinged with ink, and she breathed in his scent.

“My dear Tav, my muse and inspiration, poetry waits for no one. It comes with the shine of your eyes, the flush of your lips, the golden sun of your hair.”

Life had been one moment of happiness after another with him. She’d sat in the window of their small cottage as the rain had poured, watching as the petals of red roses bowed with the weight of the heavens, listening as Ascal plucked at his lute and mumbled lyrics of bright-eyed damsels under his breath. There had been picnics in fields of wildflowers, Arbor Coast White shared between them as the stars shone above them like remnants of the past, each one a soul watching down upon them with nothing but blessings.

It was not long later she learnt the harshest of life’s lessons, though, that death was but a word away.

Walking along the forest path, fresh flowers picked in her basket, Tav didn’t initially catch onto the smell of smoke that rose amongst the trees and wilds around her. It was only as the shadows built up that she saw the darkened plume that spread out above the tree line, heard the distant crackling of flames and the shout of those who lived nearby. The basket was ditched on the wayside as she started into a run, knowing deep in her heart where the source of the fire was and she longed to know that Ascal was safe, that he’d be stood outside, covered in soot but with a grin on his face.

It started with red roses, But soon plunged in the knife. The thorns as sharp as broken glass, The ending of my life

Time heals all wounds is what Tav had been told repeatedly and as an elf, she had plenty of time, time to mourn, time to grow angry and cold at the world. Nobody knew how the fire had started that morning, only that it had occurred suddenly with no witnesses. The flames had spread quickly throughout the wood and thatch of the roof, through the various books Ascal had insisted they kept, through the Arbor Coast White that left shards of glass scattered in the ashes. Nothing had remained of the life she had once known. There were only the ruins that crunched beneath her leather boots and the memories of stars that no longer shone for her.

Twenty-seven years had passed since that day, the ache still as fresh, the guilt still in her mind that maybe she could have done something differently that day. If she’d stayed at home, maybe she would have smelt the smoke and got them both out; maybe if she’d been quicker, she could have put out the flames or found him before the cottage collapsed. Maybe she could have just died with him. She’d tried to find the source of the fire many times, but all she had been left with was confusion as neighbours had denied there having even been a fire, as some questioned who she even was. Nothing made sense and even the gods refused her pleas for answers.

The first she really connected with after all those years was Gale. His poetic prose reminded her of all she had lost. His chestnut hair that smelt of sandalwood and ink brought her to those days of rain on rose petals and each moment she spent with him, she found herself back with Ascal once again. Mumblings of bright-eyed damsels and conjured fiends of wildflowers and stars only for her made her smile once again. She felt happy. It was only as the days passed she realised how different Gale was from her husband, how, although he had hope, he lacked the mindless optimism she’d once known. He was much more ambitious than Ascal had been, as hurt as she was, and filled with a self doubt she’d only ever seen in herself, but it was these qualities that drew them together. Their loneliness spurred them both into each other’s arms with reckless abandon. Again, she had loved, again her heart had driven her forward, and again the stars had shone down.

It started with red roses, But soon came down the scythe. And petals turned to darkened ash, The ending of my life.

Tav had been tempted by Gale’s offer of godhood, but she knew she couldn’t take it. She couldn’t see Ascal from another plane and not be able to reach him, and she couldn’t let go of her own mortality knowing what currently lay at the end of her life. Though she loved Gale, Ascal was what her heart called for, and she needed to know what had killed him before she could move on. Looking at her with disdain, Gale left her upon the shores of the river, and she knew the opportunity would never be presented to her again. It was as she unfolded the letter, though, that she knew she had made the right choice, as her tears began to fall, not with grief, but with a buried rage.

Does he live within his mother’s ageing heart, weeping for those roses? She could see the scarlet petals in front of her eyes, the raindrops on the windowpane. She saw the young boy with chestnut locks and deep brown eyes that lived nearby as he ran through the storm with a book hidden under his arm. It had once been a pleasant memory, but now she knew the truth. Rumours had gone round of strange happenings with the child, of sparks and flames he couldn’t always control and the watchful eye of the goddess Mystra ever present in his life. They had just been rumours, but now the dots connected as if constellations in the sky and she knew. Tav knew how the fire had started with flames licking upon the roses, how the neighbours had forgotten, thanks to the goddess, how Ascal had died alone and afraid.

She struggled for breath, trying to understand the cruel joke of the gods, how they would hide the truth from her, how they would use fate to bring her and Gale together. She wanted to find out if he had known all along about the fire, or had he been the pawn of Mystra back then, just as she’d seen during her travels? Her heart ached with anger and the fresh mourning of both Ascal and Gale alike, and it took everything in her to not scream to the sky and curse every god above.

She’d once been fuelled by vengeance; of the words she would say and the actions she would take, but now she had been left with nothing. There would be no justice or closure for her. The one at fault she’d allowed to ascend, and his name would be spoken for centuries to come, either in reverence or scorn. She, however, would be nothing but a footnote in history, a wilted rose petal on a dusty windowsill, a single conjured star as the magic faded.

Tav wiped away the tears from her reddened cheeks and left the party alone, anger replaced with numbness and resignation. All she could do now was wait to die, hoping that the gods she now cursed would take pity on her and let her find comfort in the arms of Ascal, let her see the stars shine and the roses bloom once again.

It started with red roses, And nights of shared breath. The petals delicate in my hands, The beginning of my death.

[frodothefair]

Nisilë vs. protracted SSRI withdrawal, an update.

Welp, here's a health update. As some of you may know, in early 2023 I tried an anxiety medication that I've taken before, had a bad reaction that was initially not recognized as such, and then when I started to get off of it, I had a different bad reaction, which turned into so-called protracted withdrawal. (For those interested in the topic, there's a website known as Surviving Antidepressants, a support group for people in my situation). Apparently, now I have to go off this medication over the course of several years, and I hardly wanted to be on it in the first place.

Anyway, things are a lot better this year than they were last year. The bottom line is that with this condition, things do get better, it just takes an inordinately long time. This time a year ago, if I had a good day it was a miracle. A lot of the time, I felt like I was having a low-grade panic attack, or like I had food poisoning, or like I was hungover. Whether or not I got sleep on a given night was a game of Russian Roulette.

This summer, most days are good, but I still get symptoms every few weeks, or when I encounter certain triggers. One trigger was a simple cold. Another was particularly spicy food. So I've cut out anything that could stress the nervous system: alcohol, coffee, spices. I'm fanatic about wearing a mask in public and avoiding travel. I won't get on a plane unless there's an emergency, because idiots fly with COVID all the time. (I personally know two such people).

But while I could take or leave it with the coffee, the alcohol, and the spices (I'll probably be healthier for it, in the long run), I was absolutely gutted when I learned of another trigger.

I can't do even the lightest exercise for more than 20 minutes, particularly when it's hot. I tolerate it fine in the moment, but the next day I feel like I've been poisoned, I may struggle to sleep, and I get panicky even when there's nothing going on. You'd think exercise would be helpful, but no. It has an invigorating effect, but for me that invigoration becomes over-activation.

So now, where does that leave me? I can forget about travel, because how realistic is travel without at least some walking? I can't sit on a beach or go swimming, and I used to love beach vacations; Hawaii was everything two years ago. I used to be an active person: there was no physical activity I could not do: hiking, biking, skiing, tennis, lugging suitcases up five flights of stairs when there was no help available... I did not do any of those things particularly well, but I had the strength and the physical prowess.

What's worse is that I've been wanting to get back into exercise. I've never done it regularly before, but I'd grown efficient at my job and I hardly take my work home anymore, so I finally have the energy and the time. I'm also in a place where I'm ready to make changes. For instance, I've stopped biting the insides of my mouth, and I'm doing my continuing medical education credits after I get home from work, rather than procrastinating until they're due. I also count my calories again, though without exercise the weight loss is painfully slow.

Anyway... I was in a funk about the above for a while, but I'm happy to say that I'm over it. After all, the mantra on Surviving Antidepressants is "this, too, shall pass." Someday I'll be able to hike and go to the beach again, but for now, I'm ripping through my continuing education requirements, I'm editing old work and putting out new work, and I'm happy to be alive. I am right where I want to be, for the most part.

[be-nice-to-your-meatsuit]

This might be taboo to say on a body positivity blog, but I'm losing weight intentionally.

While I'm not on it *now* (im in the states and on vacation so it'd be unreasonable to try), it was working pretty well.

I'm going for a straightforward calorie deficit. Try to have my activity higher than intake, give or take a bit, don't go lower than a certain amount.

And honestly? Accepting my body as it is, was the ONLY way this was going to work. My motives couldn't be "i fucking hate myself and need to change to be acceptable". My motives were "my snoring is unstoppable and I've tested and tried everything except for losing weight. It causes me pain when I walk too far because of thigh chafing, and back pain sucks" I don't want to be skinny after, hell, I like my soft and curvy self. Going to the actual "healthy" weight according to Bullshit BMI would mean my tiny ass would fly out the window if you hit a bump on the highway.

Being kinder, and loving my body means that I can take it slow, take it at my own pace, and not beat myself up on a day where my goals aren't achieved (i have three. 10k steps a day, 3L of water a day, and stay under some type of deficit. As long as 1/3 is achieved, I'm happy. If 0/3 is achieved, hey i can try again tomorrow. Were it not for fat liberation philosophies, I'd be having breakdown after breakdown).

I can be at this for a month, noticed I've lost 7 lbs and instead of going "WHY AM I A FAILURE I NEED TO GO HARDER ABOUT THIS" i can say "neat! That's about the rate I wanna be going!"

Staying on these body positive and fat liberation spaces made me say "hey, the difference between "good food" and "bad food" is awful. I'm gonna succeed, but I'm not going to cut out any food that makes me happy." I can say "alright, I'm cutting it close to my limit, but fuck it, I'm still hungry so I'll make myself a snack, because listening to my body is more important than numbers".

Losing weight will not make me more worthy. I am worthy at whatever weight I am. For those who it matters to, I'm pretty damn hot, no matter my weight. It will not make me immune from health issues, and this doesn't have anything to do with morality. My health status, if it changes, will be because I'm active and hydrating more, not because of the number on the scale.

I just want less thigh chafing without remembering to put deodorant or some shit on my thighs. I want to not snore while I'm in bed with my fiancé (and yeah sleep apnea apparently isn't it, got it tested). I want less back pain when I'm standing at a till for 4.5 hours, even if I've got the world's best shoes on. It's not health reasons, it's inconvenience reasons.

But I could never be successful about it until i disentangled fatphobia from weight loss. Until i stopped saying "these foods are bad, these foods are good", I was always going to fail. Until i stopped believing I was worthless because of my fat, until i stopped saying "I need to lose weight and do it now because I need to be hot", it was never going to work.

There's still things I need to work on, I'm not totally cured, and maybe some days the ED's gonna influence. Hell, idk if this weight loss attempt will stick, and be successful once I get to my goal weight. But even as someone who's trying to lose weight, fat liberation is so important.

Because without the idea that being fat is totally okay, I'd be unable to enjoy myself in the times where it's absolutely unreasonable to count calories. I'd have my goal as "stick thin" and not "how I look now, just less chafe". By the end of this, I'll still be medically overweight.

And btw I still believe in Health at Every Size. Your weight has no fucking impact on your worth, your health, your beauty, ANYTHING.

[sinisterexaggerator]

[ sick till I see you ] - cad bane

Summary: Cad Bane has had a tough time of it. He comes to you for a little TLC.

Gn! Reader

Warnings: None, just a little nip, lick, cuddling, and a worn out Duros looking for love, A.K.A FLUFF.

Word count: 1.5+

Notes: Wrote this last night half asleep, no real editing. Sorry if it sucks. Based on an idea we talked about in the Duros server because we're all feeling so tired. ;_; (@deepbluespace4, @renek-bane, @judathian)

There was something calming in your touch that remained unspoken. Cad Bane would never spill his secrets, though it was quite apparent he had grown accustomed to a comfort only you could provide. You were a steadying force in this harsh galaxy, someone the Duros could rely on from time-to-time, as his visitations were sporadic, yet he would reappear when you least expected it.

Tonight was such an occasion, the hunter floundering on a bounty the likes of which could have afforded him a lengthy stint of relaxation. He had taken on more jobs as of late to offset the price of fuel. It had risen exponentially since the forming of this new, “Galactic Empire,” and Bane was not amused. It ate into his profits more often than not, so the loss of this particular mark was an unfortunate stroke of rotten luck.

The one good thing to come of this was the target had been right here on Canto Bight.

A casino city, Canto Bight was a playground for the rich and famous, the arms-dealers, the shady business tycoons, the corrupt politicians, and the pirates, the scoundrels, the gamblers. You were none of these things. You were a cocktail server with a small flat to call your own in a shady corner of the city. Without you and others such as yourself, a place like this would go under in no time. Your job was essential.

It was also exhausting.

On your day off, you lounged with a good novella on your datapad, feet kicked up upon your worn caf table. You were just getting to a good part when a shadowy presence out of the corner of your eye startled you back to reality: you were not alone.

It should have been obvious. This was not the first time the wily Duros had found his way inside your home without warning or an invitation, yet it never ceased to surprise you.

You quietly rummaged in the side table situated by your sofa to extract a hidden holdout pistol. You carried this with you as you ventured deeper into your own house.

The hall was clear, so was the refresher. The kitchen was adjacent to the entryway, and you were already sure of it being vacant. That only left one place: your bedroom.

You crept to the door, weapon clutched in your hand. Peering inside, you were shocked and relieved to find the man face down, his thin, lanky limbs stretched out in an almost comical fashion.

Cad Bane had decided to sprawl out, taking full advantage of the situation as his body formed an “X” in the middle of your mattress. His floppy, ostentatiously large hat covered the entirety of his head, creating a leather halo that hid both his intentions and his temperament, while his armorweave duster had feathered out around him to give him the appearance of having wings.

It was an odd display, one that was not customary, but you would not judge your intermittent lover for his behavior.

It warmed your heart that he felt comfortable enough with you that he allowed himself to drop his guard, and it was a testament to your sometimes unorthodox relationship. But you found you wanted to go to him, to see what the matter was, to ease whatever suffering he must be feeling, and to comfort him in a way you knew he enjoyed.

“Bane?” your voice called out apprehensively. There was no response but a slight shifting of his weight, a deep groan rising from the pit of his chest as it rumbled to the surface, though masked by the compression of his entire face against your sateen sheets. You approached deliberately, suddenly feeling silly for holding onto your palm-sized blaster.

He was a danger, but not to you.

You set the pistol onto your dresser, bending at the knees to sink down to the floor at your bedside, one hand instinctually lifting to gently raise the corner of his hat.

Two searing red eyes stared directly at you. You involuntarily gasped, so stark was the contrast of their fiery depths to the dark coloration of your coverlet. They narrowed when you did not move again, the expression across your face not being one that Bane favored as he had been sure you would receive him with open arms. The Duros did something quite uncharacteristic: he pouted, his scant lower lip cresting downward into an obvious frown.

“Ah cahn see when Ah’m naht wanted,” he began, pushing up with both arms to rid you of his presence.

“Wait, no!” you said a little too forcefully, Bane settling back down as he gazed at you with an arch to his brow. “Don’t go,” you finished more softly, gingerly taking up the curve of his mandible in the crook of your hand. “I don’t want you to go.”

The Duros rasped out a hiss, though it was a release of tension, Bane’s eyelids falling to half-mast. That outward breath extended for what seemed like minutes; he loved the warmth of your skin, the smell, the taste…   

He reached out, shifting to a position that would allow him to help you up, though you were capable of standing on your own. But that is not what he wanted. He manipulated you to sit, convincing you with no more than a tug to your clothing that this was the very thing you should do because he deemed it so.

You entertained him, adjusting yourself to accommodate his nonverbal demand.

Once you were comfortable, the deadliest apex predator of the entire known galaxy buried his rostrum in the meat of your thigh as sinewy digits encased in cut-off gloves snuck beneath the single layer of thin fabric that made up your shirt.

Bane’s touch was icy, a small sound being emitted from your lips as goosebumps prickled up and down your body. This only seemed to excite him, lengthy arms wrapping around the whole of your waist as you realized his excessive accessory was in your way.

You took a chance; you removed his hat, placing it thoughtfully on your bedside table as the Duros curled into you, resting his cheek against your lap as the flat part of his face nuzzled its way into your belly.

Of all the things that could occur at this moment, Bane took up a fetal position, making himself cozy as he squeezed you tightly. You could not help yourself, knowing Bane would appreciate your efforts. You took to caressing him with a calculated touch despite his flesh being enwrapped in protective hunting gear, fingers running the course of his neck and shoulders. You massaged him tenderly, applying just enough force to hear a most gratifying sound.

Some might call it a purr, while Bane himself would call you crazy for suggesting such a ridiculous thing. Still, it only encouraged you to continue, and especially once the Duros had dug his way under the hem of your top, sharp teeth biting and tugging so as to maneuver it out of his way.  

You held your breath, not out of worry of being bitten, but because his shallow exhales licked at your skin making you shudder, a part of you deep inside stirring though you chose not to let it control you, at least not yet.

“Ah’m sick till Ah see ye’” he mumbled against your now bare stomach, “chucked all of a heap,” he added, grazing you with the points of his fangs as he enveloped you in the tangle of his limbs.

“What’s wrong, Cad?” you prodded, only concerned with his mental well-being as it was rare he searched out this level of affection, though that was not to say his words and actions did not move you, a faint blush tinging your cheeks.

“Tired,” he muttered, that vibration in his chest growing louder as his olfactory organs were overtaken with your delicious scent, “karked up,” he finally admitted, his damaged pride apparent in his tone. “Gettin’ old.”

“Nonsense,” you whispered, your thumb lovingly tracing the lines etched across his forehead as you attempted to sate his nerves. “What happened?”

He did not answer, your breath catching as you felt his tongue worm its way into the divot of your navel. He growled as if hungry, his fangs finally pressing against you, though he was kind enough not to bite down hard. He sucked the salt off your skin, licking up from your belly button to the base of your sternum, your body convulsing unwillingly beneath his sudden amorous onslaught.

He stopped just as soon as he started, teeth retracting and rostrum once again rough and scaly against your abdomen. He was reluctant to reply. “…don’ wanna talk about it,” he stated gruffly, shutting his eyes against the universe as well as against you.

“Then what do you want?” You coaxed him for an answer, not expecting the thing he wound up saying next.

“Dhis,” he offered casually, encircling you more succinctly in his embrace.  

If you had been a gambling kind of person, you would have lost, not imagining that in a million rotations Bane would confess to desiring your … cuddles.

You would not disturb him after that for fear of backlash, the notorious, murderous bounty hunter taking to your lap like an overgrown tooka as you settled in for the long haul, incapable and hesitant to move from this spot until he had his fill.

---

Masterlist

**reblogs / feedback appreciated!!**

[nerdieforpedro]

Weddings 101 with Dieter

Chapter Three: Meeting the Family

Dieter Bravo x plus size OFC (Maya)

Fanfiction 18+

Masterlist / Dieter Bravo Masterlist / Weddings 101 with Dieter Series/ AO3 Link

Word Count: approx 5.2k

Summary: Maya is awoken to Dieter having a vivd dream that benefits both of them. They go off to the separate events, Maya to the start of wedding stuff and Dieter to his golf press appearance. Maya is not enjoying herself at all and Dieter continues his beef with Oscar Issac. Daisy comes through for the win.

Warnings: self-doubt, sexy clouds, Dieter is a grabby menace, grinding, biting, sucking, vivid dreams, mutual masturbation, more bad nicknames, more Oscar Issac slander, body worship, one rouge mushroom, Dieter's MOUTH

Notes: Dieter has been chillin’ in my brain for the last few weeks. After posting chapter two, I started writing chapter 3 and here is where we are. I’m going for a rom-com vibe because Pedro hasn’t been in any and that saddens me greatly. He’d be so good in one! 😫 I’m aware that Pedro and Oscar are best buddies in real-life, I just wanted to add to the comedy for Dieter having a beef another actor and since he got mad about Star Wars last time, it was perfect.

Groggy, Maya opened her eyes, things were blurry and she couldn’t make anything out. She felt warm, maybe even a little hot. Not sure why, it was comfortable so she dozed back to sleep. An hour later, she awoke again, feeling like she had a new lease on life. She didn’t remember any of her dreams, never did, but felt a sense of unexplained joy. When she moved, things became more apparent.

She’s chest to chest with Dieter, laying on top of him. One leg is draped over his hips and her hand is cradling the back of his head. Her face on his chest and hears his heartbeat, surprisingly slow to her. He’s really sleeping comfortably with her weight on him like this. More shocking than that is she didn’t feel like moving. His body was sturdy, not something she imagined when thinking of Dieter. Lips parted slightly as his chest rises and falls, just listening to him soothes her nerves. Maybe this isn’t so bad. I mean I didn’t mean to be in his bed the first night here, but like this isn’t horrible. I wonder if he’d be startled if he woke up right now, wait…what time is it?

Maya recalled what Bravo’s assistant had mentioned yesterday, that he had somewhere to be at noon. Some press thing maybe, but whatever it was, she needed to know the time now. She didn’t hear anyone else in the villa that she could tell so maybe it wasn’t quite time yet. No alarm was going off so it should at least be before eleven. Now the next question, how should she wake him up? Just push his head, pinch him, move her leg, poke him… something may already be poking. No that’s just morning wood, it doesn’t mean what you think it means. Maya took her hand off Dieter’s head and pushed her torso up off of his chest, hearing him groan as she rolled on her back, swinging her leg quickly and brushing his erection.

A soft “Fuck baby,” was heard at the loss of the softness. Dieter was dreaming he was inside a cloud, laying on a bean bag with Kit Kat on top of him. She just was making fun of how goofy his face was with his wide cheerful smile, Just enjoying the sound of her voice as she talked and the pressure from her body, but then she floated away, saying she had to go. He reached for her and was able to wrap his arms around her, pressing his face between her cushiony bosoms instead of her stomach this time. “Shit you can’t get away. This is the best feeling, You can’t go Maya, you’re my Kit Kat dammit.” He heard loud drums suddenly, they scared him so he pressed his face deeper, turning his head side to side, the friction from his beard making his face warm. His lips found what he thought was her breastbone as he kept pressing his nose deeper, tipping his chin up, he extended his tongue and licked, tasting a mix of skin, sweat. He mumbled something into her chest and started to alternate between sucking and nibbling. The tempo of the drums changed from sounding like timpani (large orchestra drum) to snare drums that were uneven. They complemented the low sighs he heard, encouraging him to only suck harder and branch out toward her breasts. Once he did, the sighs transformed into moans, the back of his head had a familiar pressure on it from four to five different small points and his back was being raked by something sharp. It didn’t matter, all of it was euphoric, Dieter had never had a dream like this.

“Sweet Lips…sta- shit that feels good…” Her moans continued, she wrapped her arms around his head, to keep his head at her breasts. Maya’s thighs pressed together, she expected to be able to get out the bed but now she was participating in whatever dream Dieter seemed to be having. A dream about her. She was pleasantly surprised, but worried, she still didn’t know what time it was and didn’t want the assistant or anyone else walking in and seeing them like this. Bravo had pulled up her shirt and bra to access her breasts, it was why she thought he was awake, but despite her increasing moans and calling his name, he didn’t respond, just kept sucking and teasing her. She knew whenever she did get up, she’d need to wash her panties and shorts as they were soaked. His hardness kept grazing her knee and thigh, moist with what was likely his own precum. “Fuck, it’s just there…Dieter it’s not fair…Mmm…” He grazed her nipple with his teeth and she yelped, digging her fingers into his scalp before grabbing the base of his neck. Using her thighs, she was able to provide some friction to his cock as he kneaded and suckled on her breasts.

While Dieter was trapped within the warmth of his Kit Kat cloud, he felt the pressure of a firm water mattress around his cock. The fabric of his pants were a hindrance in identifying the true nature of the presence he felt providing his throbbing member some relief. His hips started to jerk as he grew closer to his release, moving faster the more he heard cursing along with his name. He managed to work both nipples into his mouth as he climaxed into his pants and onto the warm water bed. Taking his head from the breasts he was so fond off, his world view began to change

He was on a mattress, but there were no water or clouds, instead there were pillows, sheets and Maya. Her shirt was raised along with her bra and her breasts were slightly swollen and in his hands as he still massaged them gently. His face cooled from the departure as he looked up at a wondrous sight, Maya panting looking down at him, her eyes fluttering trying to focus but unable to. Her hand was on his neck. He looked down and his pants were wet with not only his spend, but some of hers that had leaked from her shorts. Dieter was conflicted, he was coming down from an excellent sex dream induced high that he had acted out with the person he had been dreaming about. The question was, is she okay with what he did? He wasn’t sure if the effects of Molly had worn off yet and she was perhaps more sensitive and hadn’t been alright at all with him touching her. “Maya, are you alright? I was having an intense dream and it looks like I-”

“Dee, you’re not fair at all. How the hell are you going to be so good at that while asleep?! It’s not right, I’ve never been happier about having sore breasts.” Maya sighed and cupped his cheek. She giggled and he exhaled, that’s one elephant out of the room, the second would be equally as worrisome. “I felt more sensitive. Is that because of the juice I drank last night? What was in there?” Dieter closed his eyes and placed a hand on her hip, pulling her shirt down. Her breasts were distracting and this needed to be said with the proper attention, though he was surprised that she remembered feeling off and drinking the juice, did she remember what she told him last night?

“Well that juice was supposed to be for my two day golf press tour. I show up, take pictures and do some autographs. It’s boring but pays well. I drink my juice spiked with some Molly to put me in a better mood for it.” He explained, his fingers tapping to the drums he had heard in his dream. 

“Ah that explains it. I felt real giggly and very bendy? Flexible? No.” She paused, trying to find the right word to describe it. She had sensed something was off, but didn’t mind it. She recalled drinking a lot of water as well too. “Open! That’s the right word! Open to any and everything. It’s a fun feeling like someone took out all my worries, but scary now that I think about it. Anyway I should have asked what was in your fridge given you told me that it was the most fun you’d had just by drinking.” Her laugh told Dieter that maybe things were alright for now, he didn’t need to ask about what she mentioned in the kitchen. Her soft lips kissed his head as she rolled away from him, popping up out of the bed. Scanning the room, Maya didn’t see a clock at the bedside or on the wall. She also didn’t see her phone either. It turned out she was in her room instead of Dieter’s so it should be in here. Maybe she left it downstairs after setting the alarm. 

Dieter got up on all fours and crawled to the edge of the bed, “Looking for something?” He wiggles his butt as Maya turns and she giggled, using a finger to poke his forehead. 

“I’m looking for my phone, a clock or any indication of time. You have to be showered and dressed by noon and I should be getting to the introductory brunch with everyone.” Her hand went to his curls, using her nails to run along his scalp and she was sure he purred. Dieter lowered his head to allow her to continue, a low hum mixed in with the purrs. “Enjoy that my fluffy boy? I can massage it more later tonight.” She paused, “Oh! Sugar Li-“

“Fluffy boy or Dieter is perfect Maya.” He ran his palm along the forearm of her hand that was atop his head, he looked up and smirked, “That’s a promise Kit Kat. I’ll hold you to it. Ask me if I enjoy it again. Say my name this time.” He moved closer to the edge of the bed and wrapped his arms around her hips, his cheek on her stomach, listening as it churned with hunger. He gave it a swift peck and nuzzled into her belly further.

This time, she used both hands to graze the top of his head, feeling his soft curls and spotting flashes of gray within the chocolate brown. She looked down, resisting the urge to pull him up and take his lips, he appeared content to hold her. Maya took a quiet rasp, closing her eyes as she explored his crown, “Do you enjoy my fingers grazing your scalp Dieter?”

“Abso-fuckin’…Yes. Yes.” Bravo panted, his hand trailed from her lower back to her round ass, filling his hand and started to knead it as he had her breasts. “Maya, what time do you absolutely need to be at that family brunch thing?” His face emerged out of her belly and peered up at her, his eyes pleading. If she came with him, he might not need the orange juice for the press interactions, though he may inspire other questions that had nothing to do with his projects. She cupped his face and opened her eyes, Maya felt she could be too easily swayed by his eyes so she focused on his lips and how pink they were. Also a bad move. 

“Need to be there by one. You can stop by after your press thing. After brunch, there’s going to just going to be some family gathering stuff and then I plan to make it an early dinner so I can bail. Though I’ll need to bring the bridesmaid dress because my mother and the bride’s mother will want to see all of us in them.” A long sigh followed. He could tell she wasn't looking forward to this at all, was it the dress itself, the people, the comparison with the other bridesmaids, both mothers? He’ll see how long he’d need to be at the golf event and as soon as he can, he’s getting out of there to come get Maya out of there. “You need to get ready though, then I can get ready.” An empty chuckle left her lips as she released his head and Dieter followed suit and let her go. He rolled to his side of the bed and retrieved his phone. It was only half after ten. He let her know and went downstairs to heat up the pizza and eat it, Maya found her phone on the kitchen island, it was at five percent so she plugged it in when she went up to her room briefly. 

Sitting and eating pizza together, they laughed and Dieter pouted when she brought up Oscar Issac again. He threw a mushroom at her, hitting her arm. She picked it off and ate it as they played around and ate. Finally when they finished, they went to their respective rooms and showered. Dieter put on a button down short sleeve shirt that was split down the middle - one half had zebra print and the other half had cheetah print on it. Daisy, who had been MIA the entire night nipped at Dieter’s ankles before he slipped on his gray boxer briefs, the elastic settling just under his round pouch of a belly and sitting on his hips. He picked up the goat and kissed her forehead. “You traitor. You left me last night. Still love you though.” The small goat baahed at him and licked his chin, its rough tongue made him laugh. He needed to pick out pants though, he didn’t really care so he pulled out a black pair when he heard a soft knock at his door. “Come in, you don’t need to knock Kit Kat. It’s only us two here and Daisy.”

Retrieving his black slacks, he set Daisy on the bed and the pants as well before sitting on the bed and putting on some white socks and his pants. He had the pants around his knees when he turned to see Maya who stood in the doorway looking away shyly. A grin crossed his face and her spun around and pulled the back of his shirt up, wiggling his ass at her. He heard her laugh, “Better than Oscar’s right?” She shook her head and he pulled up his pants and buttoned them, bitting his lips in frustration.

“Objectively I can’t lie to you Sugar Lips.” Maya chuckled, walking to sit on the bed and pet Daisy. She wore a dress that had a deep V in front, the base was white and it had lines of gold, green, brown ovals and various splashes of orange. It was nearly to the floor so only her feet poked out when she walked. Her hair was pinned up in a neat bun and she wore gold earrings. It was the fuchsia color on her lips that drew the most attention, it made her lips appear fuller then they already were. “But you’ve got other things Oscar doesn’t so don’t fret so much and I’ll try not to tease you about it.”

Dieter plopped down next to her as Daisy hopped to the floor, sauntering around. “What other things huh? And with that lipstick, I should call you Sugar Lips.” He laid his hand over hers and he remembered, “I don’t have your number Maya. I can’t send you pictures of Daisy or eggplant emojis.” 

“You’re impossible. It can’t just be texts and memes? Eggplants, really?” 

“Yeah and maybe some of the things that might be better than that man. Stupid bubble butt.” He stood to retrieve his phone and sat back down, unlocked it and handed it to Maya. “Put your number in and save yourself as…” He thought for a moment. 

“Mi Reina (My queen).” 

“Oh? What does that mean?” She did as he asked and entered her number and saved it.

Bravo laid his head on her shoulder and spoke into her ear, “I’ll tell you tonight while you’re rubbing my head again and I’m in your lap.” He licked her earlobe and scooped up Daisy who had returned, making his way to the door. One hand sent her a text to ensure she has his number too. “Let me know what you save me as Kit Kat. We should head downstairs. It’s eleven thirty.” The grin never left his face and he felt confident he had enticed her enough. Maya stopped on the way down to grab her phone, purse, brown sandals and a garment bag before meeting Dieter downstairs on the living room couch. Draping the bag over the back of the couch she sat next to Dieter and cut her eyes at him.

“Despite you being impossible at times,” Her hand touched her cool earlobe that previously had his tongue on it, “it’s also one of the charms you possess, Dieter.”

“I have charms now? Not just impossible?”

“You know you do. That mouth of yours is- ” Dieter places one hand at the side of her thighs and parted his lips after licking them. 

“My mouth is what, Maya?” He taunts, he leans like he’s going to kiss her but stops. “I can’t mess up your lipstick of course. Tell me what it does for you bebita (baby girl).” Lips graze her neck and his hands move up to her thighs, his tongue trails down to just above her breasts. Warm breath against her skin, her hands snaked to hold his soft sides. “Let me hear what I heard this morning. I’ll be thinking about it while answering those asinine questions. Por favor (please).” His chin touched her breast and he groaned, hearing Maya trying to stifle her moans only had him press his fingers into her thighs more. Dieter used his teeth to nibble gently on her breast which made her finally give him what he wanted, a deep bellow of pleasure. 

“Your mouth is dangerous, shit Dieter. Please, it’s almost time-” One hand was moving up to his head but she stopped herself and just held the back of his neck. She couldn’t pull him away, her back was curving into his face.

“Just a little longer cariño (dear).” His teeth started on her other breasts softly nibbling before a ‘swip’ was heard. Dieter stopped and peered over the back of the couch. Daisy had tugged on Maya’s garment bag and pulled it to the floor. “Daisy, you really are a traitor.” he reluctantly stood up and picked up the garment bag, draping it back over the couch as Maya straightened her dress back out.

“Daisy’s helping both of us out. That should be saved for when we’re alone.” Zack and two drivers were making their way in the villa. Dieter hadn’t heard them come in at all. The click of his tongue told the assistant that he likely had interrupted something but there was a schedule to keep. 

“Um, sir. Sorry to interrupt, but we should leave. Good morning Ms. Maya.” He smiled brightly. Dieter sighed and gave Kit Kat a peck on the cheek, she took his hand and whispered to him,

“I think I’m going to move up the time table on fucking you Sugar Lips.” Bravo’s eyes widened, she remembered saying that? Maya’s other hand gave his ass a solid squeeze. “For the record, I like your ass better than Oscar’s.” With that, she walked out with one of the drivers who carried her purse and garment bag as she hopped in the car and departed. Zack gave his boss a few minutes, thankfully he had built in time just in case the award winner wasn’t ready, but he ended up clearing his throat to bring Dieter back to reality. He made sure to grab his orange juice on the way out. The star followed his assistant and sat in the back of the car with Daisy, uncomfortably hard and looking out the window thinking of a way to bail on this event and drop by that brunch.

Maya wasn’t fairing much better, shifting around in the back of the car as the villa disappeared behind her. Her hands ran along the garment bag and then her thighs where Dieter’s hands had been. “Smooth bastard. I’ll need to see if they have a CVS or Walgreens here for some condoms. I can’t get it out of my head from this morning. I won’t tease him as much when I get back.” A soft smile graced her lips as she watched the trees slowly change into buildings, getting closer to the hotel. The Hilton was a nice hotel yes, but she was only looking forward to seeing her mother, father and brothers. Both sides of the now joining family proved to be insufferable at the engagement and bridal shower. It’s why she skipped the bachelorette party, a fact that the bride’s mother never failed to mention. 

Arriving at the hotel in a black audi did give her an air of satisfaction as some of the family members watched her walk in, her white dress with its pattern flowing behind her in the warm sun. Maya made her way to the main room where she knew brunch was in progress and spotted her mother, making a bee line for the short woman in her four inch heels, gray dress and gold bangles and rings. She wore them due to the residual effects of her rheumatoid arthritis but moved like a woman thirty years her junior.

“Hey Sweetie! You made it! I love the lipstick. I wasn’t sure about the dress but it suits you. You look like you’re floating.” They embraced and shared a hug, rocking side to side before they parted, holding each other’s hands. 

“Hey ma, you look beautiful. There still some food around?” Maya asked and her mother shook her head. ‘This child’ she likely thought, but she did notice a small red mark at the top one of her breasts.

“I think someone may have eaten you. You have any concealer Maya? If not, I can grab you some before they come over.” She dropped her hands and walked over to a chair where her purse was a few feet away. Removing a sponge and some liquid makeup, swished her hand to indicate for her to hold her dress to the side slightly to apply the makeup. She did and blended it out with the sponge, once happy with her work, then had Maya adjust her dress again. “Is whoever this is here or coming to the wedding?”

A long sigh left Kit Kat’s lips, “Maybe, I don’t know about today, but probably later this week. He’s…different. But it’s good I think.” Maya’s mother watches as a smile crept along her face, whoever it was, this man was someone who made her happy, which was very good.

“Well, go get some food and eat. The family’s going to bop around a bit more and then they want to do the final fitting for the bridesmaid dresses. Why it couldn’t be done weeks ago is beyond me? She maybe shouldn’t have changed colors so many times.” Her mother began to gripe but stopped when she saw the look in her daughter’s face. It wasn’t the time, the complaining could happen after things were said and done. She went to track down her husband who was taking advantage of the free wine samples offered until two in the afternoon. It was one forty five so he was entitled to a full fifteen minutes of wine drinking and would not accept anything less. 

Maya went to eat some sausage, eggs, and pancakes, grabbing two of each as she had eaten pizza already this morning. It was then that the bride appeared, greeting her warmly. She wasn’t a mean or annoying woman. Well, a little annoying, but only because she didn’t listen to any of the suggestions. Which yes, it’s her wedding, Maya understood that, but she wasn’t the only larger bridesmaid and the three of them with Maya included, weren’t into the strapless design or the dress being made in lace with a slip under it. You’re in Hawaii, in a humid ass place and needed to wear shapewear in addition to a tight dress was….now you sound like your mother.

The two women hugged and briefly chatted about the trip over here. The bride said hers was smooth and really enjoyed spending time with Michael, Maya’s brother. Nodding, Maya stated that her journey here had a few hiccups but turned out to be great, knowing that she wouldn't ask any further. Maya slowly ate her food, knowing that the fitting was imminent and followed Elyssa, the bride, up to one of the eighth floor rooms where all the other bridesmaids were waiting. None of them looked excited or even tried to keep a neutral face. What had happened?

“We’re going with another new color and style ladies!” Elyssa said excitedly, everyone groaned simultaneously. This fitting just became infinitely worse.

Dieter was trying to hold off on drinking his juice. He wanted to save it for either a really tiresome interview or if he had to talk to anyone about whoever the hell was playing golf. He didn’t care, he was here because they wanted to use his appearance to promote the tournament and he could talk about some of the projects he was producing. He hadn’t found any roles recently that he wanted to be a part of since the Cliff Beasts fiasco and into writing, painting and producing. He was talking with one interviewer who was asking about some of his artwork, someone who actually bothered to do some research. It was a fun conversation, until that douche popped up. Was he even supposed to be here?

Oscar Issac - who beat him out for the Star Wars role he wanted and could frustratingly play guitar and sing. This bastard who won some nonsense poll about who had better curls between Bravo and Issac and was sporting a full well-groomed beard with splashes of gray in it. And now some other interview has mentioned his ‘cakes’ from the last movie Oscar did where he spends a fair amount with no pants on. Dieter may be in a one-sided beef with the man, but he was going to keep calm. Be cool. Just grab his orange juice to chill out. 

His assistant Zack had it though and he wasn’t nearby. “Fuck.” Dieter muttered under his breath as Oscar walked over, opening his arms for a hug. Turning on the charm, he hugged him back and patted his back, a little too hard. 

“Hey Bravo, how are you? I heard you might be here. It’s good to see you.” A pearly white smile beamed from him. Go away. I want nothing to do with you.

“Fine. Just interviews and press. What’s new with you Issac? Singing about some more hippos?” Dieter meant it to be playful, but the vitriol was clear. Oscar picked up on it and he smirked, his eyebrows raising.

“Did another stint on broadway. You ever think trying it out Bravo?” Oscar stepped closer to Dieter,  “Oh, that’s right, you’ve flamed out and can’t hack it anymore. Doing your little scribbles and paints. Cabrón (bastard).” Dieter sucked his teeth, tapping his foot as fists formed at his sides. Wasn’t one sided after all, arrogant bastard. The camera around them snapped pictures of the two men smiling and talking, unaware of the battle for the last word taking place. Daisy trotted over and took her place near Bravo’s feet. 

Oscar bent down to pet Daisy which she allowed and Dieter followed suit, it was an excellent photo op, the pair of them with a baby goat. After a few pictures, Daisy walked a foot away and the two men continued taking pictures flashing peace signs while crouched. 

“Say what you will about my acting, but my art has already made millions and I can do it well after I retire from acting. What are you gonna do? Hop on a Christmas album with Mariah Carey when she re-emerges this winter?” Dieter continued as he stood back up beaming, “You and your hippos can only dream hijo de punta (son of a bitch).” Bravo waved to the cameras, when Oscar went to stand he was met with pain. 

Not from his knees, but a bite from one Daisy who maybe was going after the back pocket of his suit pants, but got a chunk of his ass in addition to the pocket. Issac let out a loud scream as Dieter laughed, this was the best thing to ever happen at a press event. It wasn’t long before he was escorted out with his goat, assistant, and his juice he never got to drink. The organizers confirmed that yes, he would still be paid as had done the interview and pictures and that’s mainly what he needed to know, as great as it was to see Oscar finally get his, he didn’t show up there for free. 

“Tell the driver to go to the Hilton hotel. I have someone to surprise. Isn’t that right Daisy? You’re not a traitor afterall. I hope you get the taste out of your mouth.” Dieter turned to his assistant Zack who just told the driver the address of the Hilton. “You got a snack for Daisy? She couldn’t have Oscar’s taste on her lips.” His large hand rubbed the goat’s head as she softly baahed and nuzzled into his chest. Zack got out a bag that had some snacks, giving the goat some carrots to nibble on. He held onto the small animal for Dieter as he hopped out of the SUV once the arrived at the hotel. He entered and asked at the front desk about a wedding party, they pointed him in the direction of the grand ballroom where some people were standing around, some were dancing and others were eating. It seemed that they may be in between events but he didn’t see her. He knew she’d be easy to pick out in the dress he saw this morning and her figure alone. A hand appeared on his shoulder and he turned to see the top of a head so he looked down.

“You looking for someone? Are you a guest of someone hun?” A warm voice asked him, he looked down to see an older woman with reddish brown hair looking up at him with a smile. Dieter noted that she had a ring on nearly every finger and multiple bracelets on both wrists. He nodded and she chuckled, it was similar to Maya.

“I am. Would you happen to be related to Maya?” he asked as she lowered her hand, she now wore a navy blue dress with suede heels, three inches this time.

“I’m her mother, Yvette. I take it she’s staying with you. She wasn’t sure if you were coming or not. Glad that you made it.” She started to walk down a hallway. “Follow me, I’ll show you where she is. Your name hun?” Ms. Yvette looked back and Dieter scratched the back of his head, he figured things would be fine. Meeting her mom was a little weird, but it was her brother’s wedding, he’d been hoping Maya would be with him when he met her but it didn’t appear bad yet. Dieter and Yvette rode the elevator to the eighth floor where the fittings had still been taking place.

Previous: Chapter Two

Next: Chapter Four

The tag list: @katw474 @readingiskeepingmegoing

@fhatbhabie @morallyinept @pedritapascal @pascalsanctuary @nissaimmortal @grogusmum @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @goodwithcheese @iamasaddie @megamindsecretlair @pamasaur @pedrodascal @marcus-is-my-muse @clawdee @trulybetty @perotovar @joelslegalwhre @josephquinnswhore @mandoisapunk @secretelephanttattoo @for-a-longlongtime @legendary-pink-dot @sin-djarin @maggiemayhemnj @rhoorl @sp00kymulderr @linzels-blog @joelmillers-whore @guelyury @laurfilijames @missladym1981 @pamasaur @alltheglitterandtheroar @din-djarins-riduur @daddy-dins-girl @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @yorksgirl @saturn-rings-writes @gwendibleywrites @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @musings-of-a-rose @soft-persephone @javierpena-inatacvest @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @magpiepills @handspunyarns @i-own-loki

[takami-takami]

Hi! My kitty recently died and i literally feel so sad and numb and i cry almost every day so because of this i want to request a Hawks x reader in the same situation as me because i just need some comfort from him yk :)

Hi, i'm so sorry for your loss. Please take care, okay? I hope this can provide a bit of comfort. Whatever you feel is okay to feel, please remember that. <3

When Keigo's footsteps pass through the door of your home, it's the sounds of crying he's greeted with that cause his feet to carry him to you faster. You've been hurting. He knows; but when he actually catches sight of you, curled up on the couch in the dim light, the weight of your struggles makes itself all the more apparent to him.

"Hey, hey, hey–" he rushes to sit right beside you, hushed whispers falling over the sounds of your hiccuping breaths. He's always open to you. He could never not be.

"You can tell me anything. I'm here for you. You know that, right?"

"It's just," your uncertain words begin to find their footing in the air between you. His eyes catch the way weighty tears form at the corners of your eyes, beneath the lashes that tug at his heartstrings with each bat and flutter. His hand twitches with the urge to reach out, to wipe the droplets away and shield you from the ache he knows has its grips on your heart. Instead, the couch dips with the weight of his movement shifting towards you. "It's been days since, and it's not getting any easier."

You hastily wipe the evidence of your sorrows from your cheeks. The back of your sleeves are oftentimes more damp than not, it seems. "I feel... numb." The words come shaky, with a cadence carrying the strain your vocal chords have bore alone.

You toy with the frays of the throw pillow in your lap, pulling them loose with strain. If your vision were clearer, you would be able to count the threads that have already fallen to the plush of the sofa below. "I feel like the pain is too much. It hurts, Keigo. What am I supposed to do?"

He hums in thought. It's a deep, rich sound that reverberates in your chest and settles it. "There's no right or wrong way to handle loss like this, love." He pauses, looking away in contemplation before flickering his gaze back towards you. "There's no right or wrong way to feel. But," he tentatively offers the warmth of his hands, reaching across to clasp both of yours in his, the pillow tumbling to the floor. The gentle back and forth, the swipe, swipe of his thumb across your skin carries his intentions to soothe, to show that he's not going anywhere. "You don't have to do it alone."

He offers a smile, eyes blinking to a softening gaze as you crawl into his arms. You nestle into him, push your nose as far into his chest as the space will allow. You don't know where to put everything down.

He hushes you as you melt into his embrace, strong hands pulling you snug and close. The warmth radiating from his skin finds a home in your bones, drapes over you like a blanket of golden rays. Deeper, you push yourself into his arms. He smells like cologne and cinnamon. Warm. He sighs, content to have you right here where you need him most.

He'll hold you as long as you need him to. He'll stay glued to you, forever by your side.

The tap of tender little kisses on your face bring forth a smile that reaches the apples of your cheeks. "There you are." He leans back to get a good look at you, eyes scanning your form as his hands cup your face with reverence. "C'mon, we can do whatever you want today." His lips purse as he speaks, head tilting attentively. "Whatever you need? You've got it."

"Anything?"

Oh, if you only knew what he was willing to give.

"Anything. You've got me to lean on, 'kay? Don't you ever forget that."

He'll spend the rest of the night attentive to your needs. Whether you need to laugh or to cry; whether you want a distraction or to vent... He'd be there for it all.

"I've got you, I promise."

[milkymoon2483]

Kiss it better

Pairing: Jake Lockley x female reader

Summary: This fic explores cheating from the cheater’s perspective. You are a wife and mother, content with your life…until something awakens within you, and it will not go back to sleep. 

Rating: 18 + Minors DNI, this stuff is for grown-ups

Warnings: Angst galore, Cheating, infidelity, SMUT, Unprotected P in V (reader makes all sorts of bad decisions folks).

Dedications:

Thank you miss @cozykalii for sending me down the fanfic rabbit hole all those months ago. Thank you Cici @astroboots for being amazing and for answering all of my asks. Thank you bestie (you know who you are) for helping me bring this baby out.  ;-) Thank you @foxilayde for allowing me to tag you, and for the amazing stuff you write. Lastly, English is not my first language, Spanish is not even my 4th (thanks Google Translate) I tried my very best. 

Word count: ~8500

You were watching TV while mindlessly playing on your phone when it happened, you looked at the screen and the broad chest was the first thing that caught your attention, the camera moved down to his big veiny hands as he grabbed the weapon. Sweat glistened on his face, collecting in the cupid’s bow above his lips. You didn't know the actor’s name but you watched breathlessly, the surge of heat to your core was immediate. Oh my goodness.. you whispered under your breath. You wanted to lick the beads of sweat off his lips and take his thick fingers into your mouth, watch him gaze at you lustfully. Your husband’s snores from the other side of the couch  informed you that any satisfaction you were after would need to be achieved independently.

Not that he would be much help anyway…

It’s not that you didn’t love him or were not content with your life, it’s just that your sex life was never perticularly exciting. And it got much less so after the birth of your son. Babies would do that to you.

You knew you had everything that anyone could even want; A loving husband, a wonderful smart kid, a great job and a big beautiful house. You were happy to settle and keep your sexdrive in some hidden drawer at the back of your mind, stuffed behind embarrassing memories and questionable decisions. However that night it crept right back out, like a pest you could not get rid of, demanding your attention.

The batteries in your vibrator ran out the following week. You looked at the anatomically accurate member with disappointment. Feeling both frustrated at the sudden loss of pleasurable vibrations and ashamed at the amount of times you've abused it. You had plenty of orgazms but it was clear to you that you barely began to scratch your itch, you needed more. 

You wished you could dream about it. Even just once, you wished your mind would conjure a proper erotic dream. That would be enough for you, with all of your daydreaming and longing and inappropriate googling, you'd think that it would be able to come up with a decent dream. Alas your realm of dreams was filled with random stressful scenarios. 

You would find yourself on the streets naked (not in a sexy way), or you'd forget to pick up your kid from daycare, or you would leave something on the stove for too long, causing your entire house to engulf in flames. “Some very anxiety-ridden-demented-senile shit” as you described it to a friend. 

Any semi-sexual dreams would almost always be about rejection, or dissatisfaction, or the inability to have any privacy. They would almost always feature your husband. Because apparently your sleeping brain couldn't be bothered to keep up with your very filthy and creative waking brain. It had a very impressive curated selection of men to choose from, but it went with the blob snoring next to you. All you wanted is to be properly fucked, licked, adored, desired…to feel the delicious weight of a man on top of you as he glides into you, his kisses flowing from your mouth to your jawline and to the neck, him whispering softly how good you make him feel, how soft and sweet and wet you are for him…and a dream would do. You could live with a memory of it, it would possibly sustain you just for a little bit longer, maybe would quench your thirst, even slightly. 

*******

You were on your second chocolate bar of the day, looking at Vivienne typing away on her computer. She looked you up and down, judging silently your choice of afternoon snack. 

She's always on some diet or another. Probably explains the constant resting bitch face. 

You however, have been replacing sex with chocolate for weeks now, attempting to fend off the intrusive thoughts and somehow satisfy the hunger that was pulsating inside of you, permanent and relentless. 

The evening came quickly, you were grateful work managed to keep your mind busy. You were yawning repeatedly while trying to catch a cab. After waking up at 5AM that morning and working for 10 hours, the exhaustion was making your eyes sting. The rush hour meant that it would take some time, but to your surprise not a minute passed before a cab stopped.

The smell hit you as soon as you sat down. Musky masculine cologne mixed with something fresh and minty, and the faintest scent of a man, ghost like, almost as if you could smell his pheromones. You inhaled sharply, breathing in the scent. It brought back a memory that you couldn’t quite place. You never had a date that smelled this amazing, let alone a cab driver. “Where to miss?” the driver asked, his voice husky with a hint of an accent. You gave him your address, piercing brown eyes gazed at you from the rear view mirror. 

He drove silently through the dark streets, gentle Spanish music was playing in the background, the backseat was very spacious, dimly lit, you began to doze off, surrendering to the fatigue that had built up throughout the day.

Jake looked through the mirror, you were leaning on your palm, breathing peacefully. 

Your delicate neck was exposed, and he noticed the slight cleavage of your button-down top. You looked tired, but serene. 

He usually drove in silence, not eager to share his thoughts on current affairs or to have to listen to people’s problems. You seemed to appreciate it, as you fell asleep within minutes. He smiled to himself. He wished for a moment all of his passengers were asleep, which would have made the job much easier.

Jake parked the cab in front of your house, the suburban street was quiet. 

“Miss? Miss?... We're here, miss, wake up”

You did not budge, your breath heavy and steady. He waited a few more seconds, inspecting your sleeping body. Your head was still leaning on your palm, hair softly cascading down your shoulders. There was something picturesque about your pose. You looked like a painting or a photograph. 

"Necesito despertarla.. mierda" (I need to wake her, shit) 

You stirred when his large gloved hand touched your knee gently “Miss, wake up please” Now you could see his face, stern but handsome. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry” you finally came to it, his gaze felt heavy on your skin. Penetrating. You apologized profusely and opened the cab door to exit.

“It’s ok, buenas noches” he said, a faint smile on his lips did not reach his eyes.

You quickly bid him farewell, missing the lovely smell as soon as you exited the cab. 

*********

The next time you entered the cab Jake recognized you right away. “Buenos días, bella durmiente” (Good morning, sleeping beauty). He seemed quite pleased to see you. 

You recognized him too. He could see you take a deep breath as you sat down, closing your eyes at the beautiful masculine scent. A warmth pooled in your core. Am I getting turned on just by this guy’s smell? 

“Buenos dias to you too” you chuckled shyly. Gosh that sounds wrong with my accent.

“Hope you slept well, where can I take you?” 

You gave him the address, not saying anything else as you felt yourself actually becoming nervous. He drove silently for a while, but the nervousness continued. 

A song Jake loved came on the radio and he began to sing along quietly. Your eyes lifted to him and your ears perked up. 

His voice was beautiful and smooth, less deep than you thought it would be, a lovely tenor. You smiled to yourself as he sang, the Spanish flowing from his mouth so effortlessly. You finally worked up the courage to compliment him, but you waited until the song finished. He seemed to be enjoying it too much for you to disturb.

 “You have a great voice” You finally said. “Gracias, miss….?” He replied, with a genuine smile this time.

“I’m Y/N…. You also smell really good… I mean your car…CAB. Your cab smells really good”.

You felt yourself blush, cheeks heating up immediately after the words left your mouth. God that was embarrassing.

Jake chuckled “Thanks, sweetheart”

Sweetheart… you couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

He took the opportunity to look at you again for a brief moment, he saw you tucking your hair behind your ear. Light catching on the golden band on your ring finger, face blooming in a shade of pink.

“Im Jake, encantada de conocerte” 

“Nice to meet you too…?” You were not sure you understood but you guessed your best. Suddenly eager to learn Spanish.

“Ci, That’s right.”

“Maybe you should teach me some more Spanish, at least while I’m here”

Ok now you're FLIRTING…? You obviously forgot how to.. 

“Well I charge extra for that. Es muy caro” 

He's flirting back..? 

“I bet you do. Guess we’ll have to stick to English then”

“Or agree on a payment plan, I can give you a discount” He chuckled.Oh, he IS flirting back.

The tone between you two was playful, laced with just enough suggestion, and you were loving every minute of it. It felt like it’s been forever since you properly flirted with a man, and a warm feeling bloomed in your belly. 

When he stopped in front of your office building you were disappointed that you actually had to get off. 

He turned back, reaching out a gloved hand.

“Pleasure doing business with you” you said playfully, reaching your hand to him, expecting a handshake.

He took it gently, turned it and placed a peck on the back of your hand. 

Heat rose to your face and you giggled. 

Well HE obviously didn't forget how to flirt.

When you exited the cab you allowed yourself to smile fully, exhilarated by the exchange between the two of you. Ok calm down. He’s a cab driver, probably flirts all the time with his clients, just some harmless fun. He probably knows that women fall for the sexy Spanish shtick. 

You giggled to yourself as you repeated the words “sexy Spanish shtick” out loud. Giddy like a goddamn teenager.

Later you replayed the whole conversation in your head, overthinking as usual, you tried not to let it get out of proportion, it’s just that it’s been so fucking long since you felt noticed and desired, you were ready to cling to any interaction that made you feel like that.

Some low hanging fruit you are.. you told yourself, wondering if you cooperated too quickly, if the whole exchange made you look pathetic. 

It was hard to admit to yourself that you needed to be desired by men, other than the one you married. It felt juvenile, greedy even. Even when you did come to terms with it , it was clear to you that it was obviously limited to looks and words, you didn't plan on acting on any of it.

**********

The heatwave was washing over the city, laying thick like a heavy blanket you could not shake off. July was merciless, and the mid- day sun burnt so bright it caused heat to reflect from the scorching pavement.

You’ve spent all morning running errands, and now you were finally done at the market, making your way back to the bus stop. Your work did not cover cab fare on weekends and the bus ride wasn’t too long. The 5 minute walk to the station was, however, much longer than you imagined. With the heavy bags in your hands cutting the circulation to your fingers, your dress sticking to your body, sweat pooling on your back, and the blazing sun above, you felt as if you were about to melt into the sidewalk. You imagined yourself turning into a puddle, and then evaporating quickly under the blazing heat. 

BEEP BEEP 

The sound jolted you, you looked to your left as the cab window rolled down.

“Need a ride?” Jake smiled

Your core went all jittery at the sound of his voice. You'd clap with excitement like a baby seal if your hands were free…calm your tits.

“Hey Jake! I’m actually walking to the bus stop, it’s just around the corner”

You hoped he would insist.

“Come on, it’s on my way, I’ll drop you off”.

“How do you know it’s on your way? I haven't told you were I was going”

You just couldn’t resist teasing him.

“No seas un sabelotodo. You’re melting, get in” (don't be a smartass)

“If you insist… I AM actually melting”

Jake opened the driver’s door, he walked up to you and grabbed the grocery bags to put them in the back. You were finally able to get a good look at him. He was wearing a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, with a black tie. Hat and gloves still in place, defiant against the scorching heat. You couldn't help yourself from sneaking a good look at his butt. His dark jeans complimented his ample ass and thick thighs. 

“Get in the front seat, the AC is much stronger” 

You nodded and got in, the heavenly smell filling your lungs again, a bit stronger now that you sat closer to him.

Jake cranked up the AC as you leaned in, lifting your hair up, relishing in the breeze, albeit artificial. Your neck arched back, exposing more skin to the cooling air. You closed your eyes and a satisfied hum left your lips.

Jake was careful not to stare, but he couldn’t help but notice the way your neck was exposed completely, your skin glistening with sweat. Your dress rode up slightly when you sat down, revealing a little more of your thigh. 

A few seconds passed before he remembered he actually needed to drive.

“Where to, miss Y/N?” He asked

“Home please, the address is..”

“I remember where that is”  “You must have a great memory then, because in this heat I barely remember”

“I try to remember the important stuff” 

Jake replied, a small grin adorned his lips and you grinned right back, avoiding his eyes. That would be much too intense and you were already boiling. 

When you arrived he parked the cab. "I'll help you carry the bags inside" he said before you had a chance to protest.

"Please you have already done so much, it's really not that heavy" you tried to resist. He waved his gloved hand at your statement and proceeded to take the bags out and carry them towards your door.

As you unlocked the door your heart sank, you weren't sure you wanted him to come inside.

When you both walked in, he placed the bags on the kitchen island and looked around. There was no point in denying the family photos and scattered toys. 

"Cute kid, seems happy" he said, picking up one of the framed photos.

"Yeah, he is, thanks" you replied, smiling shyly, not willing to elaborate on the topic.

"I bet you're a good mom" he persisted, still holding your son's picture in his hand.  "I love him very much, so I try my best, though nobody's perfect, certainly not me". You replied. 

He smiled and put the picture back, perhaps sensing your discomfort. 

You never really spoke with him about being a wife and a mother (and you were grateful that both of them weren't home) Although you also never hid the wedding band on your hand. 

This was not ok, you knew it. 

What the hell is wrong with me?? Inviting a stranger into my house? Happy that my family is not home? Am I demented? 

You had to admit it to yourself, this scenario would be 10/10 creepy if Jake wasn't so attractive. He could also be like Ted Bundy, all smiles and charm before he chops me into little pieces. 

"Can I offer you something cold to drink?" You attempted to change the subject. 

Jake nodded and you promptly handed him a glass of cold water. 

He downed it all in one go, as you watched his adam's apple bob on his thick neck while he drank.

He handed you the glass and your fingers brushed against his gloved ones. 

"Thank you so much Jake, I really appreciate it, really, you shouldn't have" 

"Esta bien, dont worry about it, my pleasure" he smiled. 

You walked him back to the front door, feeling awkward and nervous. You weren't sure what to do. Do I shake his hand? Do I peck him on the cheek? Maybe a small polite hug? 

You both stopped by the door, facing each other, you finally met his gaze. Beautiful deep brown eyes were looking at you, adorned with long dark lashes. They seemed much softer than you initially thought.

"You have an eyelash on your cheek, may I? " he asked and you could only nod. 

Your eyes moved to his hands as he removed his glove, watching with tethered breath as if it was in slow motion. After removing the glove, he very gently brushed your cheek with his thumb. "Now you need to make a wish" he smirked. The air was thick and heavy ,and your heart was thumping in your throat.

Without thinking, you placed your hand on his, and blew on the small lash on his thumb.

As it flew off somewhere you made your wish.

Fuck me. Kiss me.

*******

It was just one of those days. Everything that could go wrong absolutely did. It started with a missed alarm in the morning, continued with a tantrum from your toddler, who was outraged by the fact that the banana you served him for breakfast was indeed shaped like a banana, and not like a pineapple. Following that was an argument with your husband, about the proper way to handle said tantrum. 

Your cab driver that morning was insisting on having a political debate which you didn't want to participate in, and to top it off, the traffic was worse than usual. 

By the time you arrived at the office you were 35 minutes late, and positively exhausted. 

You were sure that with the morning you had, nothing could possibly go wrong at work. You were proven wrong when your boss called you out on a very stupid mistake you made, and scollded you (publicly of course) about your lack of attention to detail. It wasn't like him to do that, but you guessed it fit perfectly with the rest of your miserable day.

After a quiet cry in the bathroom, you were finally able to calm down. You sat on the toilet, wiping your tears away, and the memory of Jake came to your mind. There was something comforting in the thought of him, he was your little secret. He made you feel noticed, seen. It's been almost a week since you last saw him, since the exchange that left you breathless and flustered. 

You could admit to yourself that you wanted to see him again, that you liked how absolutely dangerously close you were to making a mistake. All you needed at that point was a tiny push in the wrong direction. Then It made you feel even worse when you considered the implications, playing horrible scenarios in your head about how horrible this could all end for you. Trying to convince yourself that it’s not worth it. The price you’d have to pay would be too high. 

Not that anything will actually happen anyway… The thought made you feel both relieved and frustrated. Because damn it, you wanted it to.

When 5 o'clock rolled around you were DONE, completely defeated by the day. You grabbed your stuff as quickly as possible and practically snuck out of the office the moment your boss turned his head. 

Jake's cab was waiting under the building. You recognized it immediately. You wondered if he's free, allowing yourself to indulge in the thought of him waiting for you. 

For a split second you tried to think of an excuse not to approach him, because getting in the cab with him wasn’t a good idea, on the other hand you were grateful to see a friendly face after the day you just had. 

Jake smiled widely when he saw you, signaling you to get in. You got in the seat next to him, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. I will never get over how he smells you thought to yourself as you settled.

“Mi pasajera favorita'' He smiled widely, he seemed to be in a good mood, you smiled back, trying to fend off your lousy one. Although you were sure he’d react politely, you didn’t want to burden him with everything that happened, you didn’t think that cab drivers (or hairdressers, or nail technicians) should be forced to listen to other people's problems while trying to do their job. 

He began driving without asking you for an address. 

Jake could feel something was not quite right “Que pasa? Everything ok?” 

“Just a very lousy day, nothing much really” you replied, hoping he would leave it at that. 

“Do we need to go kill someone real quick? I’ll make sure they never find the body” he smirked, trying to lighten your obviously lousy mood. You giggled sadly, as your armor began to crack.

“Nah, I think I’ll let them live, I can’t get messed up in murder, plus orange looks terrible on me”

“Can't imagine anything looking terrible on you” he replied, serious all of a sudden. Your forced laugh tried to break the awkwardness.

“Seriously, you can tell me querida"

You loved his terms of endearment, especially the Spanish ones. 

“It really was just a crappy day. Lots of small things that went wrong, but I’m glad to see you. I needed a friendly face after all that shit” you ended the sentence with a bite of bitterness to your voice, fighting back tears that began to sting the corners of your eyes. 

It felt so stupid to cry, for a second time that day, and in front of Jake.

“Hey..hey querida.. No, don't cry…” He said softly, which had the exact opposite effect as more tears rolled down your face. It was as if he broke the dam, finally giving you permission to let your guard down.

He pulled over, it was only about half a mile before reaching your house, but he couldn't bear to see you like that.  

“I’m so sorry, this is so embarrassing, oh my god, shit…” you spoke through your tears, sniffling, desperately trying to stop them.

He unbuckled his seat belt and turned to you, placing his large hand on your shoulder, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles. It was heavy and warm and made you want to pull closer to him. 

“It’s gonna be ok mami, it’s just a bad day, you're gonna be fine…” 

You unbuckled and turned to him as well, the sobbing subsided, giving way to the nervousness that buzzed through you. Some tears were still escaping your eyes, he gently brushed them away with his hand and you leaned into his touch.

Your heart was beating mercilessly, belly in knots. You just sat there for a few moments, allowing his touch to both soothe and excite you. There was a lump in your throat and a pool of heat between your thighs. You knew he should stop but desperately wanted him to continue. 

“Do you want me to kiss it better…hmmm?” he asked almost in a whisper, making your heart flutter even more violently.

You did not respond, any response would result in a lose-lose situation. You didn’t want to admit how much you wanted this, you also didn't want to say no. You knew this was the dreaded push in the wrong direction, and you were paralized with fear, drawing only shallow breaths.

His gloved thumb grazed over your cheek and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, making goosebumps run down your spine. 

He leaned forward slowly placing a soft kiss on your cheekbone, 

and then another one on your cheek, 

and another one tethering on the edge of your lips. 

The fourth kiss reached your lips, soft and delicate, stained with your tears.

Your core heated up immediately, you couldn't help but lean into the kiss, pressing your lips onto his. His hand was gently cupping your face as your lips brushed softly against each other. It was a chaste, delicate kiss. His smell was making you dizzy, the masculine musk in it somehow amplified. 

You felt yourself physically torn, lust and guilt mixing inside of you into a nauseating concoction.  

"Stop please, I can't" you came to your senses briefly, laying your palm on Jake's chest.

"Lo siento" Jake replied softly, eyes still closed. You were still inches apart, you could still feel his breath on you, his hand still cupping your cheek. 

It took you all of five seconds before you were falling off the edge, pressing your lips on his again, admitting defeat, brushing his bottom lip with your tongue. That little flick of your tongue was all it took. Jake's hand moved to your neck, cupping your face between his thumb and index, his tongue licking into your mouth, his lips hot against yours, it was intense and possessive and conveyed nothing but desire and danger. He groaned softly against your lips as he claimed your mouth with his, you were barely able to catch a breath, heart slamming in your chest, mouth gasping for air but not able to break away from his kiss. He was kissing you like he wanted to have as much of you as possible while he still could. 

Jake felt the pulse in your throat in his palm, galloping at a merciless pace. He fantasized about this for weeks, and now that he finally gave in, he was afraid he would devour you without being able to stop himself. 

A very loud car honk jolted you both as your mouths finally detached. You were almost thankful that you were startled enough to stop, to replace the hunger in your veins with a stress response. You scrambled to collect your bag and quickly exited the cab, saying absolutely nothing, shocked at your own actions and at how far you've allowed yourself to go.

Jake stepped out of the cab after you, calling at you “Y/N I’m sorry! Please let me take you home! Lo siento mucho!” 

You were almost running away at this point, and he did not want to cause you any more stress by following you. It was clear that a line had been crossed. 

“Jake please go, I’ll walk home, please just go now…please” You shouted back with a shaky voice.

******

Your husband was a grateful man, he didn't know what happened, what prompted you to jump his bones the moment you put your son down for the night. It wasn’t like you to do that sort of thing, but he knew he would be stupid to complain.

You sucked him off like a starved woman before straddling his hips and riding him, your eyes shot with concentration, kisses hot and needy. 

All you could think about was Jake, hoping to miraculously conjure him into existence, but it all tasted and smelled wrong.

You finally were able to cum with the thought of Jake fucking into you, mumbling soft praises in Spanish. How sweet his moans would sound, how sexy he would look with sweat glistening on his pecks. 

FUCK you were screwed. You only had a small taste and it got you fucking hooked, nothing tasted like he did. You absolutely didn't want to want him as much as you did. 

******

The pain in your chest took weeks to subside, but you could still feel the slight sting of it. Finally feeling less and less guilty, although you couldn’t really quit Jake. You would bring him up from your memory every day, like an imaginary friend. Faithfull only in the technical sense, you convinced yourself that it’s good enough, that maybe that earth shattering soul crushing kiss you shared was just what you needed, that you stopped just in time before it all went too far. Truthfully you could only thank that honking car, it was the true ‘hero’ of the story, the thing that actually made you stop. 

You knew without a shadow of a doubt that another test would be impossible to withstand. Thank god you weren’t tested.

Until you were.

******

The evening was winding down, you had such a great time with your friends from work, better than you thought you would, you were in a cheerful mood for a change. It was a welcome break after weeks of nothing but work-home-childcare-bed, you finally had the evening to yourself. After three drinks it was clear you needed to call a cab. It would be a long ride, since you were not in your usual part of town. You decided to get yourself some water for the ride, to try and sober up a bit.

Walking into the bright convenience store made your eyes squint. The store was almost empty and quite large, allowing you to wonder quietly, contemplating the snack options that looked very appetizing in your drunken state.  All of a sudden you felt a tingle at the back of your head, as if you were being watched. When you turned swiftly there was no one there. As you kept walking the feeling increased, you could almost feel the breath of someone down your neck, but the store seemed completely empty. The alcohol in your blood evaporated instantly and you felt completely sober, as the paranoia slowly set in. 

You quickly grabbed a bottle of water and sprinted to the register. That was when you saw him. In the monitor above the clerk’s head, there was no mistaking that strong silhouette, but the cap was really the dead giveaway. He was standing behind the row of shelves, just out of your sight. What the hell?? Your heart rushed. Was it excitement? Fight or flight response? You were not sure. You turned on your heel, walking towards him before he even had the chance to realize what’s going on. 

“What the hell do you think you're doing?!” You asked, your voice came out stronger than you anticipated. Perhaps you were still a little tipsy.

“Joder! I’m sorry Y/N”

“Why are you following me? You scared the shit out of me.”

“I..I wanted to come up to you, wasn't sure it’s a good idea, I wanted to apologize, for that time..”

You lifted your eyes to his, dark and hooded, he looked tired. The bright fluorescent lights were probably not doing you any favors either. You wanted to hug him, but of course you did. “Apology accepted,” you muttered quietly.

“Not like this, por favor cariño, can we talk?”

He grabbed your hand in his large gloved one. You looked down and saw your wedding band, pulling it right back. You exhaled sharply “fine Jake, let's talk, not here.”

Maybe closure isn’t such a bad idea, maybe the fact that you feel a little aggravated with him will make this easier.

You walked out of the store, he was a couple steps ahead of you, and if someone had seen you from the side they probably wouldn’t think you were together. You made sure to stay behind him, even walking with him made you nervous, guilty.

The alley was quiet and dark, the street lights illuminating everything in a dim yellow. Jake's face seemed even more angular, eyes shaded completely by his cap, thankfully. You wouldn't have been able to withstand his eyes piercing into yours. You leaned on his parked cab, folding your arms on your chest, while he stood in front of you, keeping a ‘professional’ distance as much as he could. 

A heavy silence stood between the two of you, but your body reacted to the sight and smell of him. You were trying to ignore the need to pull him closer.

“Y/N, I'm very sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you, it was weak of me. I shouldn’t have done what I did" 

You looked at him but did not respond, letting the obvious set before you could reply. 

“It wasn’t just your fault, Jake"

"Por favor Y/N, let me finish" His breathing seemed heavier, but he sounded almost authoritative.  

"I…I was selfish. I knew it was wrong, I should have stopped myself, I just wanted to make you feel better, soy un idiota.." 

The words you really wanted to reply sat on your tongue. Admit it already. Say it.

"Jake,I wanted it to happen. I kissed you back, 'soy un idiota' too.." 

"Soy UNA idiota..female tense" he chuckled as he corrected you. 

"Thank you for teaching me the proper way to call myself an idiot"

"Anytime, querida" 

His voice softened.

"I love it when you call me that.." 

You raised your eyes to meet his, as he took a step to close the gap between you, looking at you with an intensity and hunger, making your heart race.

“I was also weak” you whispered now that he was close, holding your hands in his. 

“You make me weak Jake” Your anger has all but dissolved, and you were standing in front of him defenseless, unarmed. There was nothing that could protect you now.

He removed his gloves one by one, placing them on the roof of the cab behind you. His cap followed, revealing a mop of thick black curls, brushing them back with his hand as a few stray ones still bounced back onto his forehead. 

You cupped his face, his stubble softly scratching the palm of your hand. 

“Kiss me” you finally said it.

One of his arms rested on the cab, cornering you in, your bodies almost touching now, his scent clouding every remaining ounce of judgment you still possessed. 

You could feel his heavy breath as he slowly ghosted his fingers on your jawline and neck and leaned in to kiss you. 

He set a slow pace, but his kiss was anything but chaste this time. Dipping his tongue into your mouth, gently sucking on your bottom lip, his lips were soft and pillowy and he brushed them masterfully against your own, before breaking off the kiss to swipe his thumb on your lips. Your tongue darted out to lick the tip of his finger as if by itself, Jake's eyes flickered and he slowly pushed it into your mouth, with a quiet moan. Your tongue swirled around the thick digit, teeth scraped it, before he pulled it out only to kiss you again, deeper and more desperate.

His hand laced through your hair, pulling gently and exposing your neck. Jake's lips trailed sloppy open mouthed kisses from the back of your ear and all the way down to your clavicle. His hips were brushing his hard length against your belly. The combination was making your head spin, and your heat pool in your center. Your moans and whimpers were music to his ears. "You sound so pretty like this querida, making those sweet noises" he said with a raspy voice, teeth nibbling at your earlobe. His palm glided down to your breast, he brushed his fingers on it so tenderly that you barely noticed it until a wave of arousal shot into your core. His weight was pinning you to the car, he slid his thigh between your legs, feeling your heat, grinding his clothed cock it into you. Your fingers squeezed under the waistband of his jeans, tugging at the belt, grabbing at as much ass as you could, pulling him closer. You began to pull his shirt out, hands sliding up his warm firm back, he shivered slightly at your cold fingers and chuckled at your eagerness. 

“Can I touch you? Do you want me to touch you, cariño?” he cooed sweetly.

"Fuck..ah..hhm" was all you managed to reply, it felt as if your wetness would drown you, your whole body felt liquid in his arms, reduced to a puddle of lust. 

He slid his hand under the hem of your skirt, warm callused palm traveling up your thigh. His lips detached from you, he was breathing heavily and studying you closely. Sliding his fingers gently over your drenched panties as your face contorted with pleasure, until your hips started to buck at him. "Please touch me" you managed to breathe out. He obliged, moving your panties out of the way and gliding both fingers in between your folds. 

His breath got even heavier as yours nearly stopped completely. "joder mami.." he muttered at the warm wetness coating his fingers. He circled your clit and then slid back towards your entrance, pushing slightly into you, repeating the motion with a featherlight touch. Your moans were getting quiet, reduced to quick sharp breaths and little whimpers. Brows pinched and eyes slammed shut. It was pure ecstasy delivered in the softest and tenderest of manners. "Breathe mami… I'll take care of you. You are so beautiful like this" he whispered and kissed you again, wanting to capture your pleasure with his mouth. 

This is what you wanted all along, to have no choice in the matter. To be seduced so completely that your ability to resist would disappear altogether. This must absolve you of some responsibility. 

The rolling thunder did not seem to distract you from each other, no honking car, no impending doom would make your mouths detach. You have allowed yourself to indulge in this, moral compass tossed into the nearest bin. 

His thick fingers slid inside of you, and every time he pulled them out just to push them back in, his palm rubbed gently against your clit, covering his hand with your arousal. You moaned into Jake's mouth, louder this time, as you felt the coil tighten in your core. 

"Tell me hermosa.." he rasped between soft kisses and licks,"Do you think of me when you touch yourself?" 

"Hhm, yes.." you replied, stating the obvious. 

"And do you think of me when you fuck your husband..?" Your heart raced at the question, it shouldn't have turned you on even more, make you even wetter, but it did. "Be honest, querida, it's ok" his voice was supposed to feel reassuring, but it was laced with coercion, luring and tempting your shameful truth out of you. 

"Yes" you whispered, your voice barely came out as a pathetic whimper. 

“Mmmm” He purred at your response. 

The thunder roared again, and little droplets of rain began falling.

"We're not getting in until you cum, cariño" He said playfully. You hated the rain, you hated yourself, but you would hate it more if he'd stopped. 

Your senses lit on fire as the pleasure in your belly was tightening. You felt the drops cold against your hot skin, the weight of Jake's body on yours, the gentle slide of his fingers, heard the sound of your kisses, moans, and heavy breaths, his smell and taste were intoxicating you.

It all accumulated, building up higher and higher, until you finally felt your pleasure spill over the edge. Wave after wave washed over you. You dug your nails into his shoulders, holding on for dear life, groaning into the crook of his neck. "así, mami, así" he said softly as you clenched around his fingers, pulling you gently down from your high. 

You both stood there for a moment, eyes shut, breathing each other's air heavily.

The rain intensified, beginning to soak into your hair and clothes, convincing you both to finally get into the cab. 

When you got in, the sounds of the street and the rain dissipated, it was so quiet all of a sudden, all you could hear was each other's breath. Your orgazm was still buzzing faintly through your body, but the guilt was slowly creeping up your back. 

You found yourself scrambling for something that would make you stop, but came up with nothing. What would be worse? Betraying the trust of your husband or denying yourself the thing you have been desperately craving for months with every fiber of your being? How strong did you have to be to resist this? 

Jake sat next to you, damp curls and white shirt slightly soaked by the rain.

He turned to you and placed his hand in the space between the two of you on the car seat, as if asking for permission all over again "Hermosa, are you sure? I will understand if you want to stop". 

Without his cap and with the soft look in his eyes he looked boyish, almost innocent. "You are so handsome" You said, as you brushed away a stray curl from his forehead and laid your hand on top of his, granting said permission silently, still not willing to fully admit to yourself what it is that you're agreeing to. "Please querida, I need to hear that you want this too" 

You scooted closer to him, slowly running your hands up his arms and shoulders and began removing his tie. Unwrapping your forbidden present to yourself. "I do. I'm sure. I want this. too much" you said, in a voice closer to a whisper, still trying to keep your 'secret' from him, as if there were any left.

You unbuttoned his shirt, taking your time with each button, until you were able to slide it down his shoulders, the tanned broad panels of his pecs finally at your fingertips. He was beautiful, the contour of him gently illuminated from the dim street lights.

You ran your fingers through his soft curls, pulling him closer for a kiss, your tongues swirled together at a leisurely pace. His hands slid up your legs, under your skirt, pulling your thong down. "Eres tan suave, tan dulce, necesito sentirte cerca.." he rasped as his fingers brushed on your thighs.

"You'll have to translate this one for me" you replied gingerly. 

He took your hand, laying it on his clothed cock, painfully hard under his jeans. "Here's a translation for you, querida" he chuckled, groaning softly at the friction. Oh god, of course he's big.

"Aww, is that what it's called in Spanish..?" you chuckled back, rubbing him softly through the fabric. 

You made quick work of his belt buckle, unzipping his constricting denim, tugging it along with his briefs down his strong thighs as he lifted his hips slightly.

You finally straddled him, your heat pooling in your core, begging to be filled. 

His gaze was fixed on your face as he ran the tip of his cock in between your folds. You bucked your hips at the delicious feeling and began to sink on him slowly, relishing every thick inch, every ridge and vein. "Ah.. fuck, you're a big boy" you managed a breathy whisper. Jake almost whimpered as your warm wetness covered him, sinking all the way into you. 

He grabbed your hips, impatient and needy, beginning to slowly grind you on his cock.

It felt amazing. That's the only way you would describe the exquisite fullness between your thighs, his thickness dragging against your walls, gently enticing every ounce of pleasure out of you. You raised yourself slowly, just to sink back again, and again, quickening your pace slightly with every thrust. He nuzzled at your breasts, sucking gently on the flesh he could reach, before grabbing the hem of your top and pulling it up. Your bra quickly followed. Jake latched his mouth on your nipple immediately, sucking hungrily, then pressing your breasts together and lapping his greedy tongue over both nipples. There was pure concentration in his face. His eyes were closed, soft long lashes laying on his sharp cheekbones. 

For years you'd retreat to the back of your mind, pull fantasies and memories almost forcefully, that's the only way you could enjoy sex. Now you could barely blink at the sight of him. Broad shoulders and strong arms, sharp jaw, black curls. Just so fucking gorgeous.

Jake sensed your gaze and opened his eyes, staring deeply back while he moved into you. Your orgazm began to approach rapidly, as you tightened around his cock. He planted his feet on the floor, thrusting harder, deeper. He spread your cheeks with his palms, slotting himself deeper still. His eyes darted from your eyes to your lips, to your breasts, before he pulled you into another kiss. You could almost taste your orgazm now, and you began moving faster, chasing it, you closed your eyes out of habit, before forcing yourself to keep them open. You needed to etch as much as you could into your brain. You wanted to capture it all - the sound of his groans, the skin slapping on skin, the smell of sex, the taste of him in your mouth. Every. Tiny. Fucking. Detail. Oh. My. God. Yes! Yesss! Fuck me! Fuck! Fuck!  The coil in your core finally snapped, stronger this time, hitting you harder. Jake felt you clench around him and he deepened his thrusts, crashing his hips into yours as you moaned and wailed.  No secrets to hide, no shame, you've allowed yourself to fully let go, confessing all of your sins loudly and without reprehension. Warmth spread all over your body, flooding your limbs, as the aftershocks of your climax kept coming. "That sounded so fucking beautiful, querida" Jake groaned. Your hands came up to his face, lacing through his hair, as you began kissing him again softly - on his lips, his cheeks, his forehead…You placed gentle kisses on his closed eyes, every soft kiss thanking him for the pleasure he brought you. Jake's pace began to quicken again, you matched his movements, you could feel him approaching his high, hands gripping your hips with surprising strength, moving you on his cock faster, harder, thrust after thrust after thrust. He groaned as he spilled inside you, neck stretching back, jaw clenched ,sweat beading on his chest. He was every bit as stunning as you imagined him to be. 

He collapsed into your chest, heaving from his exertion, thrusting his hips slightly into you, coaxing some final pleasurable little waves of post orgazm out of you. 

He looked blissed out, completely content.

You stroked him, gently grazing your nails on his scalp, brushing your fingers on his temple. He purred softly and nuzzled deeper into you. You both knew you had very few last moments to enjoy this, to breathe each other's scent and bask in the tender intimacy of it all, before you'd have to go back to pretending this never even happened. "Thank you" you whispered, kissing the top of his head. You really didn't know what else to say, how to express the mixture of gratitude and guilt you were feeling. Could you promise yourself this was the one and only time? Could you resist him? This? You couldn't tell yourself this was 'nothing' because it didn't feel like 'nothing'. Maybe with time you could convince yourself it was. 

"I have to get back home, Jake" you finally said. "I know querida, i know you do."

******

The tension had been building inside of you the whole ride home, and you went back and forth between the possibility that you'll be able to come out of this unscaved and the very plausable outcome of completely ruining your life. 

You unlocked the door to your house with a heavy heart, dreading what awaited you on the other side. How would you explain the late hour you came in? Would Jake's scent linger enough to be noticable? 

And what if you don't get caught, would you regret this? Surely you'd regret breaking their hearts, betraying their trust, being so selfish with your 'needs' that you didn't even consider another solution. But, would you also regret the scorching hot, charming, gorgeous man that fucked you like that, like you needed him to? And if you regret only some of it, does it count as actual regret? Does it matter? 

Your brain was running a mile a minute, perhaps trying to prepare yourself to 'face the music' if you must. The bottom line was that the deed was done. And it was lustful and passionate and every bit as satisfying as you've imagined.

As soon as you stepped in you knew you could breathe a sigh of relief. The glow of the TV was the only thing illuminating the space, and your husband's snores assured you that you were in the clear.

You headed into the shower immediately, relishing in the hot water on your skin. For the first time in months your mind was clear. You could think about your plans for the upcoming days, your chores, missing items on the shopping list, the kind of cake you wanted to bake for your mom's birthday… The lustful beast in you was full, satiated, resting in it's cave at the back of your mind. 

Thank you Jake. 

**********

Jake

The streets were almost empty, the rain subsided into a drizzle, the wet asphalt shimmered with blurry reflections of the street lights and passing cars. 

Jake opened the window and lit up a smoke, he enjoyed the cool air that smelled like rain, it blended with your smell on his fingers. 

"Do you think of me when you fuck your husband?" He'd ask them. 

Most froze, some tried to avoid the question, some would say "no, because I don't fuck him anymore". Hearing an honest answer like yours was rare. Your precious little "yes"... your voice barely whispered it, but it was enough for Jake.

You were special. Something about the guilt written on your face made it more exhilarating for him. You never did manage to hide anything, every emotion was visible, clear for him to see. Your reaction to his smell, to his voice, your clumsy and adorable attempts at flirting, it was all so endearing. You were always so sweet, so responsive when he finally touched you the way he wanted to.

He'd tell himself that he is actually helping. Every woman wants to feel seen and desired, every woman deserves pleasure. He was just happy to oblige, to offer himself up. He did have a type though, and they all had one thing in common - a husband. Some husbands were doing a fine job, but some were not. Dormant in their lives, maybe cheating, maybe just tired. 

He would never insist if he saw that the other side simply wasn't interested, but more often than not they were. And there was nothing quite like breaking through the initial apprehension, to reach the bleeding core of someone who needed this just as badly as he did. And boy did you need it. You were starved and he had the pleasure of feeding you. 

He apologized for his advances because he knew that you needed to think that he was as conflicted as you were. But he wasn't, he wasn't sorry either. 

How could he be when you moaned like that, clenching on his cock, digging your nails into his skin..? 

Fin.

[dodger-chan]

Making no progress on the stories I'm supposed to be writing, so I took a quick break and wrote this:

-------

“Everything but wrestling.” With Robin’s unexpected comment, Eddie drew his attention back to the group. When he’d last been listening, the others had been planning their trip back to the lair of the lich king. How they’d gotten on the subject of wrestling was a mystery.

“Not this again,” Steve groaned. Whatever it was, it apparently bothered him.

“It was kind of weird,” Nancy agreed. “You were so good at everything else in gym class.”

“And now I’ve graduated so it does not matter.”

“Exactly,” Robin agreed. “You’re not in high school any longer, so the fact that you never won a match-”

“Hey, I won a few.”

Steve Harrington, jock of all jocks, had been bad at wrestling and somehow Eddie had missed it. Eddie supposed that when you were as athletic and beloved as Steve people would let one or two flaws slide.

“Any when you weren’t paired with somebody well below your weight class?” Robin teased. Steve rolled his eyes at her.

“I don’t know. I didn’t keep track because it does not matter.”

It might, Eddie supposed. If any of the “Upside Down” monsters fought without tooth and claw, and Steve lacked a projectile weapon. Though he had managed that bat-like creature pretty well with just his hands and teeth.

Fuck, that had been hot.

“Having too much fun getting pinned to the ground by your peers to keep count?” As soon as the words left his mouth Eddie wanted to take them back; their queer implications just a little too clear. Spending so much time with these three, under such life-threatening circumstances had made Eddie complacent. He’d forgotten there were some things you couldn’t joke about with normal people.

Steve laughed.

Steve laughed and Eddie felt something inside tense up and then relax as he realized Steve was amused.

“Oh, god, imagine if I’d said that to Coach when he got on my case about it. ‘Sorry, I had to let him throw me to the mat; he had the most beautiful brown eyes.’ Probably have gotten kicked off the swim team, though.” Steve leaned over and gave Eddie a gentle but solid slap to the shoulder. A very masculine and very straight shoulder slap, the sort jocks shared with each other.

All while Steve was still laughing, because the idea of him finding a guy attractive was so hilarious.

Still, he wasn’t going to beat Eddie up over it, which was more than Eddie would have hoped for as little as a week ago.

The conversation drifted back to fighting monsters and Eddie found himself zoning out again, until Steve pulled him aside for a private conversation.

“You know, after this Vecna stuff you and I should, um, what’s the nerd phrase?” Steve snapped his fingers when he found the words. “Verify your hypothesis.”

“Um, what?” Eddie was at a loss.

“That is what you say, isn’t it? When you have an idea and do experiments to test it?” Steve furrowed his brow.

“I think you have me confused with the kind of nerd who passes his science classes.” Eddie joked.

“Right, well, you’re about my height, but you’re kinda scrawny. So I’ve probably got fifteen pounds on you? And you skip gym class a lot, don’t you?”

“Three days out of four, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“Shit, Eds, I’m the one who’s supposed to be slow on the uptake.” Steve leaned close into Eddie’s space, their faces inches apart.

Their mouths inches apart.

“You said I’m bad at wrestling because I like getting pinned by hot guys,” Steve’s words ghosted over Eddie's lips. “I think you should give it a try. See if you can pin me.”

“Here?”

“Nah, some place a little softer. I don’t want to get hurt too bad when you take me down.”

[a-kookie-with-my-tae]

Befallen: Chapter 2

Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Music Producer!Reader

Genre: Fluff??

Word Count: 2.7K

Warnings: Jimin is that annoying best friend, Y'N is in denial, all the drama just because

A/N: I'm so sorry this was out late! My computer died on me and it set me back a bit. So, that being said, this next chapter is gonna be a couple days late as well. I'm gonna try my best to get back on track as quickly as possible. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy it!

Masterlist

Effervescent: Lively, full of energy, bubbly.

The smile Jimin dawns hasn't left his face since we left the studio a few hours ago. Joy so obviously adorning his soft features. Although he wears a mask it's easy to tell, his eyes squinting so much it makes me wonder how he sees the sidewalk in front of us. It feels as if a insurmountable weight has lifted from my shoulders as I pull my mask down to my chin, taking a sip of my tea and chewing lightly on some of the tapioca pearls that come through the straw. Jimin and I's boba tea are similar yet so different, just like our personalities. While we both went for cold milk tea with no ice, mine was banana with tapioca pearls while his was coconut with aloe jellies. A weird combination on his part, but aloe apparently has healing properties and he's all about that. I'm not the one that has to drink it - except the one time he made me try it and I made him vow to never again make me taste his drinks after that experience - so I don't pay mind to it. 

He hasn't stopped gushing about the song that I showed him, ultimately claiming it as his own and running through ideas for it at a mile a minute. I didn't even know he could talk that fast. He's so enthused and focused on his ideas that he hasn't even touched his drink since we left the cafe, which is unheard of when it comes to him. Usually he gulps that thing down in the first couple minutes of having it, then complains when he has nothing left to drink and ultimately goes back to get another one. I smile to myself at him, butterflies fluttering through my chest in a much different way than they were earlier.  I'm nervous, but at the same time, the excitement at the prospect is greater.

Ideas for it flow through my own mind as we walk, the suggestion from Jungkook on the front of it, distracting me from my own. 

It's not a bad idea. Especially with Jimin's soft vocals, it would pair nicely. It would sure be a lot different from what he has put out in the past, but the boy likes to change up his vocal style like its a sport. No two songs of his have ever sounded alike, and this would fit in with that theme. 

He goes on about how he's torn between themes, whether he wants to talk about the the fear of stardom or the fear of losing someone. Either way, he wants it to be a meaningful message. I focus on the two themes, running through different sets of lyrics to see which one would fit better, but I'm also at a loss.

"Ugh, this is so hard!" Jimin throws his hands up in the air in exasperation, grabbing the attention of a few of the other people in the street at the dramatic display. "I don't know how to decide..."

"Maybe you should ask one of the other members?" I suggest, knowing that a few of his hyungs have production experience and have produced a few albums on their own already.

"No, this has to be something I decide on my own." Jimin says with determination permeating his features. He slows his walk and I see him starting to get in his own head. He tends to do that a lot, overthink. Jimin, although one of the most talented and hard-working individuals I know, is somewhat of a walking contradiction. He exudes confidence in everything he does, but at the same time is more self-conscious than anything. He doesn't like to show it, but he's harder on himself than anyone else could possibly be. Always overthinking every move he makes, a perfectionist at heart. Especially when it comes to himself. 

"You know, there's nothing wrong with asking for help." I try to reason with him, attempting to break him from the inevitable spiral that will happen if he is left to his thoughts.  "After all, aren't I helping you with it?"

He pauses for a moment to think, his eyebrows creasing. We walk in silence for a few seconds before he speaks softly, but each syllable is coated with conviction.

"That's different..." he starts, "we are making this together. If I ask them... it just proves that I can't do it on my own."

Jimin avoids my eyes as says this, his competitive nature showing through. He always wants to be the best version of himself that he can be, sometimes near destroying himself in the process. I want to argue, say that it's not a weakness to rely on others to help. But I don't, knowing full and well that it wouldn't change his mind. He's very stubborn when it comes to this, so I don't push it. I think for a moment before an idea pops in my head.

"Well... why don't you just do both?"

He looks at me, puzzled. "How would that work?"

"Didn't you say you were thinking about putting out an English version as well for your international fans?" 

He raises an eyebrow at me skeptically. "Yes...?"

He trails off, waiting for me to continue.

"Just make the English version one theme, and the Korean version the other."

His eyes widen in realization. "Oh my God, yes! That's perfect! I have so many ideas... we have to go back to the studio!" 

He grabs my arms and faces me toward him, almost shaking me with his excitement. 

I smile and laugh lightly, happy that he's so enthralled at the idea. 

"How about we go back tomorrow? It's already 9PM and you have an early practice tomorrow. We can work on it first thing after you're done, I promise." I stick my pinky finger out at him, smiling softly. Pinky promises are pretty much sacred between the two of us, so offering it eases pretty much any skepticism that he might've had.

"Ugh... fine." He says dramatically with a roll of his eyes, knowing he wouldn't win this argument as he intertwines his tiny pinky with mine. "Sleep is unnecessary anyway... but whatever."

I shake my head at him before starting to walk back toward the company building. After stopping at the cafe down the street, we decided to walk a little bit before heading back. The fresh air was refreshing after spending all day couped up in the studio. 

"Did you want a ride home?" I ask as we near the parking lot, digging in my cross-body purse for my keys. 

"No, thanks." He says before dawning a teasing smile. He pauses for dramatic affect before continuing. "Kook is actually giving me a ride home."

My face instantly flushes at his words, the moment from earlier coming to the forefront of my mind. The smirk on Jimin's face widens at the sight of my red cheeks.

"So... what happened earlier before I came in? You guys seemed... close." He teases. 

I purse my lips at him. "Nothing! He just barged in randomly when I was working. I don't even know why. He just starting talking and messing with my track." I try my best to fake annoyance at it, but Jimin sees right through it. 

"Yeah... sure." 

We arrive at my car and he leans against the passenger door as I put my bag in the back seat. 

"You look awfully flushed for someone who is acting all annoyed." He pushes.

"Whatever." I say with a roll of my eyes, heart beating ever so slightly faster. I've never been the best liar, especially around Jimin. He always seems to know what I'm thinking, able to read my face like a book no matter how hard I try to mask it. 

"You know... I could totally ask him what happened. I'm sure he'd tell me."

I wonder if he felt it, too...

I quickly shake the thought out of my head before shutting the door to my car in finality. 

"Do what you want, but nothing happened." I state firmly. 

"Fine, I won't ask. But I know that something happened between you two. You could cut the tension in that room with a knife." He glances to the side at me before continuing. "But just so you know... Jungkook is different. When he likes someone, he doesn't mess around. And that boy is more stubborn than me, he always gets what he wants. So if that's you..."

"Then, he should prepare for disappointment. You know how I feel about all that... and I don't think we will have to worry about it. There's no way Jungkook feels something for me, we met for like 2 minutes. You can't like someone that fast." I shrug off Jimin's words. The man we speak of is basically untouchable. Unreachable by my mere human hands. He's like a god, an Adonis, and the fact that Jimin thinks even remotely that a man like that could have any sort of feelings for me makes me wish insane asylums still existed, because this boy really needs to be checked in. 

"I don't know..." Jimin trails off before looking off to the side. He leans up and off of my car before zeroing his eyes in on it. He stares for a moment before smirking, the twitch of his mouth as quick as lightning before the stoic expression resumes on his features. "I've never even seen him really talk to a girl, even our stylists. So the fact that he was comfortable talking to you and standing so close...."

He turns back toward me. "Not to mention he looked mighty jealous when he found out we knew each other."

"No he didn't." I roll my eyes, yet again brushing off the words of the insane man next to me. My mind is made up. Even if the very unlikely scenario that he proposes is true, it wouldn't matter. I don't care how great of a guy Jimin says he is, at the end of the day all men are the same. If you let yourself fall in love, you'll only get hurt. It may not be about sex, or love, or money. But some way some how, it'll happen. I'm done with setting myself up for disappointment. I'm tired. So, I continue on after a moment, indifference coating my every syllable as I try and fail to fool Jimin into believing my facade. "He was just surprised you knew me. It makes sense, since I've never worked with you guys before."

He sighs deeply before his shoulders drop in acquiesce. I avoid making eye contact with him. I know that if I do, he'll be able to read all the bullshit I'm spewing and I'm not quite ready to admit that to myself. I don't know if I'll ever be. "I'm just saying. Don't close yourself off to the idea. I know how you feel about... well... boys in general. But he's different. Just... think about it." He turns to give me a hug. 

"Anyway, JK has been standing over there glaring at me for a few minutes, so I better go." He says with a laugh, causing me to shoot my eyes in the direction he was focusing on earlier.

Jungkook looks even more handsome that I remember, even though the interaction was only a few hours ago. He's leaning against his car confidently, arms crossed as he pins the man standing next to me. If looks could kill, Jimin assuredly would've melted to the ground. He nibbles on his full bottom lip as his brows furrow together, a crease forming in between them. His dimples show from how flexed his jaw is, the corners of which look as if they could cut me if I dragged my fingers across it. Something swims in those orbs that I can't quite place, and I don't wish to find out either .

Jimin's earlier words flash through my head, but I try to pay no mind to them. Jungkook can't have feelings for me, it's impossible. Saying he's out of my league is a vast understatement. It's more like he's on a different planet altogether. I can never let myself feel anything for him, no matter what the stupid organ in my chest is trying to tell me as it beats harder at the sight of him. If I let go... If I let myself fall for him... It would only cause me pain. I've had enough of that for one lifetime. I won't set myself up for disappointment yet again. 

His eyes meet mine from across the parking lot, and time seems to pause its existence. They seem to soften at the sight of me, his cheeks gaining a slight flush from the eye contact. I know mine don't fare much better. He uncrosses his arms before adjusting himself against his car, putting his hands in the pockets of the hoodie he now wears before glancing momentarily toward the ground awkwardly. I smile lifts in the corner of my mouth at the sight, endearing as it is. He brings one hand up to wave shyly as his eyes meet mine again. I almost forget to return the gesture as I get lost in his ethereal gaze. 

"I'll see you tomorrow, first thing after practice. Do you want to hit the dance studio after?"

Jimin's voice thankfully snaps me out of my daze. The knowing smirk on his face makes me groan internally. I already know that I'm in for it in the morning, there's no avoiding it. There's no playing indifference either after the display of awkward teenage tension that he just witnessed. There's no ignoring it either. Fuck.

"Won't you be tired? You're gonna be dancing all morning." The idea of stretching my limbs again is a welcome one. The dance studio used to be a place in which I'd frequent. But, lately, life has been so chaotic that I haven't had the chance to go. 

"Dancing with them is... different. Ballet is more of a release. I mean, you know what I'm talking about. And I think both of us are in need of some of that classical R and R." He kicks his leg out in a tendu dramatically, as if to further punctuate his words. 

"Yeah, that sounds good." I say with a smile at my best friend, happy that he's not pushing the subject of the man across the parking lot.

Even though he's over 100 feet away, I can still feel his eyes bore into me. His gaze makes my skin tingle as it rakes over my features. I glance at him from my peripheral, only to cause myself to flush from the heat of it. I shiver runs down my back at the attention. 

"Alright then." He pauses for a split second before donning an evil smirk. He pulls me into a dramatic hug, lifting me off the ground as I giggle. He sets me down after a few seconds, quickly turning away and walking toward the car across the lot.  "Bye, bitch! I'll see you tomorrow."

I'm slightly out of breath from the random display of affection. Even though Jimin is not that much taller than me, maybe an inch or two, his strength always surprises me. My eyes meet with the man he's walking towards. The confliction in his gaze sends my heart racing in my chest. He looks as if he's debating on killing my best friend or running toward me. As if he's fighting his instinct to either defend me or claim me. The fact of it causes a flash of heat through my body, making my breathing speed up in the process. 

Something clicks in his gaze as Jimin finally reaches him. I see the shorter male's mouth move, but can't quite make out what he's saying before he opens the door to the car and slides in. I gulp as he slowly drinks in my form, the heat from his gaze causing a flutter under my skin wherever it touches. As his eyes meet mine once again, the corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk. This snaps me out of my daze as I quickly hop into the driver's seat of my car. I focus all of my attention on starting the vehicle, trying to push out the feeling of his eyes still on me. I'm hyper aware of his every move as he continues to look at me. 

I let out a shay breath before buckling my seat belt and putting the car in gear. 

Oh, this is not gonna be fun.

[spudangle]

Blood Apricots

Astarion and Fiona don't know how to communicate and things turn awkward, but maybe it's for the better?

Pairing - Astarion x Fem!Durge (named Fiona, not super descriptive about her appearance, if at all)

Rating - Mature

Warnings - 18+, Sexual content, Fluff, Angst

Word Count - 2,2k

Author's note - Heyy, so this is the first piece of fanfiction that I've ever written. As I said on Ao3, I don't really know what I'm doing, but I wanted to try and write something, because apparently this game just has that much of a hold on me.

Also, any critique would be appreciated, like is my grammar way off, or do I make the characters far too ooc (Astarion in this case).

Anyways thank you for your time!! <3

Ao3

Fiona groaned, a low strained sound escaping her lips. 

She was out of breath, her head was throbbing, and her throat felt dry. Had she not already been lying down then surely she would have passed out by now. 

She was trying to enjoy the pale elf’s ministrations, she really was, but her body didn’t seem to agree with her wants, all tense, and no pleasure. 

Earlier that evening at camp Astarion had proposed that she come to his tent. He had put on his best act too, using all of his best lines just for her. And she, always eager for his attention, had played along. She did, after all, find herself entertained by his sense for the dramatics, though she couldn’t deny that she had been a little hurt by his insincere usage of the sentence, “I love you.” which he had so easily laughed off. But if this was how she could get close to him then so be it.

Gods only knew how badly she wanted to be held by him, to have his approval.

And so, just like their first time together, she had bared her neck to him, assuming that he would just take a quick sip. But this time, much like the first time he had drunk her blood, he had gotten carried away, and so she hadn’t been able to focus on, nor enjoy the physical intimacy that he had offered to her. 

Thus, in an attempt at gaining pleasure, Fiona without thinking, had tensed up her body, desperately following Astarion’s lead, focusing so hard on the sex that she had forgotten to relax, causing her heart rate to rise. That mixed with the excessive blood loss had however done little good for the experience. 

So now she felt like…well she felt terrible, like shit, probably looked the part too. All she could feel was an aching sensation in her head while her heart hammered away. 

“Could we stop?” Fiona breathed as she stopped mimicking the rhythm that Astarion had set. 

No response. 

His gaze seemed to be miles away.

“Astarion, can we stop?” she tried again this time a little firmer. She put her now clammy hand on his arm trying to coax him out of whatever had taken his attention. 

Then finally he looked down at her, “Hm…what…Of course.” 

He had lost his composure for just a second, not expecting her to want him to stop, but as always, he was fast to regain it, quickly putting on a sultry smile. 

“What’s the matter darling, not enjoying yourself?” he purred at her with an almost sing-song quality to his voice. But as he got a better look at her he paused. Apparently, he hadn’t been able to pick up on her discomfort before now. He really must have been miles away then. 

“Hells Fiona you look like…well you look like shit.” he remarked, brows now furrowed together in mild concern, “You’re practically shaking all over. Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”. 

Astarion quickly slid himself out of her, lifting his weight off her, allowing her to relax more easily. 

He looked utterly miffed as he sat down next to her, brows knitted together with concern, and Fiona didn’t know what to say. She felt bad, embarrassed even. She felt like she had ruined what could have been a perfectly good night, and gods knew that they needed it with everything that was going on around them. She needed it. 

But it wasn’t her fault. He was the one who hadn’t been able to control himself while drinking from her, but then again, she hadn’t been able to say stop before just now, and she hadn’t even really wanted to say stop. She didn’t want him to stop touching her. She was so touch starved that she would take anything that he had to offer, and currently that either seemed to be nightly bloodlettings or sex. 

Anything to have him cup her face, or stroke her arm, to have him close enough for her to breathe him in, but she could surely not explain that to him. Such thoughts were simply far too fluffy for him to possibly take seriously, if anything he’d just tease her for it, she certainly knew that. 

So instead, she just apologized. 

“Sorry, I should have said something sooner” Fiona tried, the dryness of her throat making the words sound weaker than she had intended, but perhaps that had worked in her favour as Astarion’s features softened – he almost, almost, looked like he was taking pity on her. She could work with that. 

“I just didn’t want to ruin the mood” Fiona continued her eyes wide and pleading, this time trying to take advantage of her sorry state, hoping that it would soften him up further.

“Well, aren't you just considerate? Keeping your miseries all to yourself.” Astarion tutted. He wasn’t buying it, “You certainly managed to do that just fine anyhow.” 

Right. He wasn’t going to give in to her.

Fiona sighed, a mixture of frustration and embarrassment as Astarion’s  sarcasm sliced right through her feeble attempt at gaining his pity. She knew that she wasn’t going to get much sympathy from him so she might as well save the last bit of her dignity and leave his tent. Besides this sordid headache wasn’t going to take care of itself. 

“Sorry. We should probably just call it a night then” Fiona sighed, sitting up reaching for her chemise so that she could regain her last bit of modesty, and leave the situation for good, only for the little blood that she had to rush out of her head. Everything started to spin as though the world was crashing down on her. Black spots began dancing in her vision and she gritted her teeth feeling like her head could split open at any moment. Gods it hurt, and gods she felt stupid. Probably looked stupid too. Astarion was probably not going to get anywhere near her after this. The thought only made her all the more desperate to get out of there, but she couldn’t see for the spots, and she couldn’t find her chemise, and she was starting to panic, causing her to become short of breath which only made her panic more. “Shit shit shit.” she muttered under her breath as she fumbled around. This was pathetic.  

And she truly must have been a sorry sight, for the next moment she felt Astarion’s cold hands on her shoulders, pushing her to lie back down on the bedroll, “Don’t be silly now dear, I was only teasing.” he began as he handed her her chemise, “I’m obviously not going to let you stumble around out there. Besides, you'd probably just trip and bash that pretty head of yours before you even reach your bedroll, and then where would we be?” 

He still sounded somewhat displeased, but Fiona sensed something softer to his tone now. So maybe he was concerned for her after all? 

“I’m sorry. I probably seem like such a fool.” Fiona sighed, her voice a little shaky. At this point she just felt like crying, but she had already put on enough of a show, so she did her best to avoid Astarion’s ever-analysing stare as to not let him set her over the edge. 

“Well yes, you certainly do,” Astarion laughed, then huffing as if not sure about whether he should continue, “but I do find that rather charming about you, you know.” he finally said, his voice now soft without a hint of sarcasm.

“That I’m a fool?” Fiona said, not sure that she understood what could be so charming about that.

“No,” Astarion laughed, “but you’re so responsive. I can so easily tease you. It’s endearing.”  Fiona felt his cold hand swiping a stray hair away from her face urging her to finally look up at him, “However I shouldn’t have teased you just now…” Astarion trailed off. 

It was a tender face that she was met by. Red eyes looking at her, not through her, not looking at her like they wanted something from her. For the first time she felt seen by him. So this was what a genuine compliment from the vampire sounded like. She felt like she could get drunk on his words, just from the soft tone alone. He found her endearing. She was endearing.

“Besides,” Astarion continued, shifting his gaze away from her, brows furrowing slightly as though he realized that he had been vulnerable, “were it not for me you wouldn’t be in such a sorry state to begin with, so I’d be a poor bed mate to let you go out like that.” 

It was barely an apology, but Fiona still appreciated it, and she was far too dizzy to tease him for it anyhow, so she just smiled weakly up at him. 

But her silent appreciation didn’t seem to please him as he looked back at her with an air of mild impatience if not annoyance, she couldn’t quite tell, but the silence was seemingly too intimate for him as he shifted uncomfortably before clearing his throat, “Right well can I get you anything?” he asked.  

Now feeling more composed, Fiona carefully sat up again so that she could slip her chemise back on, the cool fabric soothing her clammy skin. The world had finally stopped spinning, but her throat was still dry and her head still throbbing. “Some water would be nice.” she said sweetly, still smiling at him.   

“Right then.” 

With practiced ease Astarion swiftly put on his briefs and trousers before making his way out of the tent, leaving Fiona to herself, and as the tent flap closed she laid back down, doing her best to relax on the bedroll. 

Perhaps the situation hadn’t been so terrible after all. Of course, she could have done without the awkward sex and the splitting headache. But, Astarion cared, in some way at least. He had shown that exact softness which Fiona so desperately yearned for, but that she so rarely got to witness from him. 

She wondered what it was about her that made him care, what it was about her that had made him approach her in the first place. In fact, at first she had thought that he disliked her, with him constantly criticizing her for being too nice, criticizing her for constantly stopping to help other ‘ragtags’, claiming that it would only slow them down. And yet he had still approached her during the party with the tieflings, inviting her to have sex with him. But why? What did he see in her? Besides the fact that he found her endearing, what about her attracted him? Had her ‘niceness’ somehow still managed to captivate him? Well, she certainly wasn’t going to stop being nice, that was for sure. Being good was the only thing she could do to make up for those vile, disgusting, sadistic thoughts that haunted her mind. 

No. 

No, she would not think of that. Not tonight. Not when she had been doing so well for the last couple of days. 

Fiona took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. This was why she preferred not thinking when she was by herself, even if it was just for a moment. It didn’t do her any good. 

Even though he had only been away for a moment, Fiona was relieved when Astarion finally returned to the tent again. 

With him he brought a waterskin as well as a small pouch, both of which he handed to her, “This should suffice.” he quipped as he settled down next to her. 

“Thank you” Fionna murmured softly propping herself up before taking a sip of water, the cool liquid instantly soothing her throat. Curious about the extra item that he had brought for her, she opened the pouch. 

Dried apricots? 

Why had he brought apricots for her? She wasn't particularly hungry, quite the opposite if she had to be honest, her current condition doing little for her appetite.   

Her befuddlement must have been apparent on her face because Astarion promptly explained “Sugar is good for the blood darling. It will help alleviate your headache.”   

“Oh” Fiona muttered, slightly taken aback by the unexpected thoughtfulness behind the fruit. She took a piece of apricot to nibble on. It was sweet and tart, the flavour bringing warmth to her cheeks – or perhaps it was the gesture behind the fruit. Nonetheless she took another one. 

This was nice. Being in the presence of Astarion in comfortable silence and enjoying something as simple as fruit. He also didn’t seem to mind the silence now, contently watching her as she ate. And there it was again, that look in his eyes again, like he was seeing her. 

“Feeling better?” he asked.  

“Mhm” Fiona hummed as she used the back of her hand to wipe the last bit of sweetness from her lips.

“Then I suggest that you get some rest.” Astarion said, urging her to lie down.

Fiona settled down on the bedroll making herself comfortable with a blanket. She looked up at him for a bit, feeling happy and content in his presence. Tonight, she had realized that there was something more to the sharp-tongued elf than his usual sarcastic demeanour, something that he wasn’t eager to let out, but he had shown to her anyways. 

She enjoyed the joking, the sarcasm, and the sex, of course she did, but maybe their relationship could be more than those things.

She wasn’t quite sure yet, having no knowledge of what a relationship based on attraction was supposed to look like, as she had no memories to pull such knowledge from. 

But this…this could be nice.

[serenity-lattes]

The Recluse

Part 1/2 of I Will Follow You Into the Dark

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Summary: Steve has missed Eddie terribly and after getting some signs from the Upside Down, he decides to go on a mission to bring Eddie home… but what if when he gets there, Eddie isn’t quite the Eddie he remembers?

Warnings: References to Eddie’s death, Steve is in a major depressive episode and is not doing well, mention of weight loss, swearing, very angst heavy

Word Count: 2742

A/N: For my @harringroveson-bingo card, I’m completing my B3 Square, "The Recluse and The Ghost". With the Kas Theory going around, I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to touch on that. As always, a massive thank you for @writer-in-theory and @lcvingprentjss for being my betas. And apparently Jay and I are going to be jail cell buddies because we keep hurting each other with the angst.

“The monotony and solitude of a quiet life stimulates the creative mind,” said Albert Einstein, or so his high school chemistry teacher had claimed. Steve couldn’t disagree more. Monotony barely got him through the last few months, and solitude? Well, he has never felt so lost and empty. 

With Ed- no. He couldn’t even say his name. With him, he felt the thrill of living, the absolute elation in the simplest of things, and above all, Steve knew what it was like to love unconditionally and be loved the same. That is, until a year ago that was all ripped away from him in the worst way possible. Steve would have learned to cope had it been a mere break up, yet life had other plans: death. 

Now, today of all days, life was mocking him with said death. September 15, 1987, what would have been their two year anniversary. He had been making plans for the two of them to go down south to the beach for their first anniversary because, “Steve, I’ve never seen a beach, and no, Lake Michigan doesn’t count. C’mon, do it because you love me.”

Steve did love him. 

Shit, he still does. 

As Steve lay in bed, his room completely dark, save the red light from his clock that reads 2:37, he hears a knock at the door. It’s not the first, nor will it be the last. His friends just won’t leave him the hell alone. He quit his job at Family Video to work the graveyard shift at the Village Pantry in Fairmount just to avoid his friends. 

Sometimes it’s Robin saying he should come out for Dustin’s sake, sometimes it’s Dustin saying he should come out for Robin’s sake, and occasionally it’s Nancy saying, “come out for the kids.”

Steve just doesn’t want to talk about it, nor does he want the pitiful looks from everyone. He just wants to mourn and process things in peace. Why can’t they just get that through their heads?

Today, it’s Robin again. With a sigh, Steve heaves himself out of bed and quietly pads over to the door to look out the edge of the blinds like always. Robin’s bouncing from foot to foot, with a brown paper bag in her hands. She knows Steve is there and alive, even if she hasn’t laid eyes on him in six months, because he always takes the things she leaves at the door when she’s headed back to her car. 

“Hey, Steve,” she says, putting her palm flat against the door, as if reaching out to him, “I know what today is… and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Steve. I know it won’t change anything, but can you at least come out, let me hug you?”

Her voice cracks, she misses her best friend. 

Steve squeezes his eyes shut and his head drops. No. He can’t. Because if he lets Robin hug him, he’ll start sobbing and never stop, and he’s so tired of crying. He swallows the lump in his throat and moves away from the window to press his hand against the other side of the door. 

He does miss everyone, but he’s just not ready yet.

After he sees her car drive out of view, he opens the door to retrieve the bag she left. Robin usually left meals or snacks, occasionally little knick-knacks she thought he would like. Except this time, Robin left something that’s left Steve completely breathless and sinking to his knees. 

A little chocolate colored R. Dakin bear that has a black and white raglan shirt on, followed by a note in Robin’s handwriting.

Hey, dingus. We know today is a hard day, so we gave this little guy a makeover. Eddie’s uncle Wayne gave Dustin some of his things before he moved, so we made him a little outfit out of some of Eddie’s clothes. We know it’s not the same, but it’s something to hold onto today. Love you… Miss you… 

        ♡ Robin, Nancy, and Dustin

With unsteady hands, Steve lifted the bear up to inspect said outfit. Tears were already spilling down his cheeks as he could recall the exact shirt the bear’s was made from: a Mötley Crüe tour shirt he got when they went to the show last year at Market Square Arena in Indianapolis. Steve can see the edge of the comedy/tragedy masks in the seam of the sleeve. Robin couldn’t cut a straight line if she tried. 

He gulped and squeezed his eyes shut as he lifted the bear to his nose. The little shirt smelled like a combination of Pall Malls and the Drakkar Noir cologne Steve got him for his birthday last year. It was everything that felt like home and suddenly Steve felt everything come rushing back to him like a tsunami.

“Where’s Eddie?”

Silence. 

“Dustin, where’s Eddie?”

“H-He’s gone… the b-bats. I’m so so s-sorry…” 

“Fuck!” Steve shouted, dropping the bear as if it was on fire. The rational side of his brain knows this is an incredibly kind and thoughtful gift, yet the irrational part is only seeing a mockery of what he lost and will never have again. 

After taking a moment to gather himself, he wipes the tears away with the sleeve of his shirt before gingerly reaching for the bear again. He brushes the pad of his thumb over the fur that matches his hair color. His lips tugged into a wistful grin as he shook his head slightly. Nancy truly did a great job with the sewing of the little shirt. The bear was a representation of Eddie. 

“Oh, I miss you, Eds,” he whispered, eyebrows drawing together as he pulled the bear to his chest. It wasn’t the same, nothing would ever feel like holding Eddie, but… this wasn’t not helping. It was as if saying Eddie’s name had awakened things that had been dormant for the last six months, because the light in the room began to flicker. And to make things worse, he’s absolutely certain that he’s hallucinating because surely the wall isn’t distorting and there’s no way a human hand is coming out of it.

Steve startled and got away from the wall, cowering by the armchair. He waited with bated breath, terrified Vecna was here for his revenge. But then the lights went dark completely. Had it been Vecna, he would already be dead, in a crumpled up pile. Yet here he is, in one piece. Terrified and ready to piss himself, but alive nonetheless. Steve carded his fingers through his hair, pushing the strands away that had fallen into his face. Wait. What if..? No, it couldn’t be. Could it?

“E-Eddie?” he whispered, afraid to be wrong, yet afraid to be right. 

The flickering started again, just like when he said his name the first time. Steve tilted his head to the side, perplexed. What in the- he gasped with the realization, it was Morse code. Damn, the roller coaster of emotions was making his head hurt. 

“Wait!!” Steve urged, grabbing a pen and the yellow pages from the side table, writing as fast as he could on the inside cover.

-- .. ... ... / -.-- --- ..- / - --- ---

It was three words, though Steve couldn’t distinguish little dots and lines, but he knew someone who could.

Which is how he ended up at Dustin’s doorstep, in his pajamas, no less. He wanted to knock, it was a simple motion: lift an arm, rap the knuckles against the door. Yet right now, Steve felt like he was dismantling a bomb. 

He hadn’t seen Dustin or anyone else since the fateful day they had come back from the upside down. Looking at his friends, Dustin especially, would only serve as a painful reminder of what they lost, what he lost. 

“Get your shit together, Harrington,” Steve whispered to himself, working up the nerve to knock, “just knock on the damn door.”

Just as he turned to finally knock, the door swung open and there stood Dustin with the most unamused expression. 

“Oh, so you are alive,” he muttered, glancing Steve up and down, his crass demeanor quickly melting into concern. Steve had lost weight, his cheekbones a bit more prominent and his once form-fitting sweater was loose. Dustin knew why, but he hated actually seeing the toll Eddie’s death had taken on Steve, “I’m happy to see you, though.”

Steve’s tongue darted out, wetting his lips, unsure of what to say. What could he say? The last time they had spoken was once they came back to Hawkins and Dustin told him what had happened. Steve had avoided everyone for six months. 180 days. He hadn’t spoken to any of them, save what he listened to them say through the door.

“I- uh,” Steve bounced on the balls of his feet, gathering his thoughts to form a coherent sentence, “I missed you, Henderson, and we’ll actually have that conversation eventually, but right now, we have to talk about something else.”

Dustin’s eyebrows furrowed, not even having a guess to what Steve could be referring to, but it didn’t take a genius to see that something was weighing heavily on him. 

“Robin brought by the bear,” Steve started, finally meeting Dustin’s eyes, “And… something happened. So, I want you to tell me,” he squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting this, but knowing it was a necessity, “tell me what happened that day.”

Dustin’s jaw dropped, half tempted to slam the door in Steve’s face. No. He doesn’t get to disappear for six months and come back to ask what happened. Steve mourned the loss of his lover, but Dustin mourned the loss of two of his best friends. 

“You know what, Harrington? You don’t get to throw this back in my face, if that’s what you’re here to do. I couldn’t stop seeing it for months and you weren’t here when I needed you, when everyone needed you, even Max,” he took a step back to shut the door, until Steve’s hand shot up to keep it open. 

“It’s not that,” Steve nearly shouted, eyes pleading, “Weird things started happening, man. I just wanna make sense of it and I don’t have that piece of the puzzle. I’m not throwing this in your face, I just- I just… I gotta figure this out, okay?”

Dustin, skeptical, glanced back to make sure his mom was still occupied with the tv and Tews, “Let’s go to my room.”

Steve followed Dustin to his room, careful to not make too much noise and pull Claudia’s attention from the tv. Dustin plopped down on his bed, motioning to the chair at the desk for Steve to sit at.

“Okay,” Dustin started, wary, “What do you need to know?”

“You, uh, told me it was the bats, but wha- what happened?” 

Dustin pursed his lips, shaking his head at the memory, the one that had haunted him every night for months. Taking a deep breath, he recalled that day, that moment. 

“Eddie and I were making sure the bats didn’t come for you, Nancy, and Robin. He distracted them for a while, but when it didn’t work, he ran into the swarm… I wasn’t there because he tried to keep me safe, he pulled the sheet rope away so I couldn’t climb back up. When I got back, he was on the ground because the bats had attacked him. He was hurt so badly, I can’t unsee it. But, I… I held him for a little bit, he said he was finally able to graduate, that he loved me, and wanted me to make sure I told you that he loved you too. And he-” Dustin sucked in a breath, forcing back the tears threatening to spill over, unable to say the actual words, “In my arms. And I- I hurt my leg, I couldn’t carry him back, so I left h-”

Steve surged forward, pulling Dustin into a hug. God, the poor kid. He knew he was down there with Eddie, but he had no idea it was like this. He couldn’t say for certain that he wouldn’t have holed himself up in his apartment, but had he known all this, he likes to think he would have been here for Dustin.

“It’s okay,” Steve whispered, tears spilling down his cheeks for the upteenth time, “He would do it again if he had the chance. I’m thankful you were with him, though. The thought of him being alone… thank you, Dustin. I’m sorry I haven’t been around, there’s really no excuse for it.”

Dustin clung onto the sweater, hugging his friend with all the emotions that have been building up the last six months. He couldn’t even hug Steve that day because he ran off before Dustin could finish explaining what happened. He couldn’t talk to Steve because he was only ever met with the damn door in his face. Calls went unanswered, hell, even notes unanswered. Steve was the one person he wanted to talk to about Eddie because he was the only other person who could understand how he was feeling. 

Mike or Lucas, maybe, but they didn’t have those kinds of conversations. 

“You weren’t even at his funeral, you asshole,” Dustin sniffled into Steve’s shoulder, “do you even know what that did to Wayne?”

Steve’s stomach twisted uncomfortably, because, no. He didn’t know what that did to Wayne. He didn’t stop to think about what anyone else had been feeling because he was so wrapped up in his own bundle of mourning. 

“I-” he shook his head, “I’m sorry, Dustin. I can’t say it enough, but I’m here now. I promise I’ll try, and that I’ll do better.”

Dustin pulled back, eyebrows furrowed, it was really all he had wanted since March. He nodded his head and wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. 

“Now,” Dustin gathered himself, getting back to the purpose of Steve’s visit, “You said weird shit was happening.”

Steve sulked back, taking a seat on the other end of Dustin’s bed. They had fought demodogs, Russians, the Mind Flayer, and Vecna together, but he couldn’t help but feel crazy right now. Is this how Joyce felt when Will was in the Upside Down? 

“Okay, so,” Steve pulled the paper out of his pocket, the one with the morse code on it, “Robin brought the bear by and I ended up saying his name out loud.”

“Vecna?”

Steve gave Dustin a pointed look, “No.”

“O-Oh, Eddie’s. Duh.”

“Anyway,” Steve enunciated the ‘n’ sound, “I said it and then the lights started flickering, like how Mrs. Byers described things when Will was missing. Then there was a hand in the wall, and I’m pretty sure the lights were doing morse code, but I need you to tell me if this is actually a message or I was seeing things. Because after the last few years, I won’t be shocked either way.”

Steve chuckled nervously, handing the paper over to a very skeptical Dustin who unfolded the paper slowly. Dustin stood and approached his desk, grabbing a blue marker, quickly decoding the message. 

“So, what did you say that triggered all this?” Dustin asked, writing letters on the paper at an angle Steve couldn’t see them. 

“I said his name.”

“No,” Dustin turned to face Steve, expression somehow more serious, “What exactly did you say?”

Steve recounted the events from earlier, holding the bear… he tilted his head to the side, willing the words back to himself.

“I said, ‘Oh, I miss you, Eds,’ and then that’s when everything started happening.”

Dustin pursed his lips and then held up the paper, showing Steve the translation: 

--  ..  ...  ...  / -.--  ---  ..- / -  ---  ---

M  I  S  S   /  Y   O   U /  T  O  O

Steve looked to Dustin, wide eyed, because there was no way in hell. This was Vecna, it had to be, right? They never found his body afterwards, so he had to be back and taunting Steve the way he had Max.

“Because if I didn’t know any better, I might think Eddie is,” Dustin started to say before Steve was up and running out of his room, “Again with the running!”

This time Steve didn’t care, he was a man on a mission. Because if there was a chance Eddie was alive, he was going to act on it. And if he is wrong and dies while doing so, well, then at least he’ll be with Eddie again.

PART 2: THE GHOST > READ HERE NOW

MAIN MASTERLIST

HARRINGROVE BINGO MASTERLIST