#so here's some soft angst about quinn

[quinnylouhughesx43]

needed you - qh43

summary: y/n has an intense fear of storms, particularly the incessantly loud rumbling thunder.

word count: 3.4k

notes: @sweetestdesire request for a a quinny fic. “You’re really scared of some thunder? C’mere.” turned out to be angsty but soft quinn

warnings: use of y/n, tense, angst, may induce stress, soft quinn,

"See ya, guys! Thanks for the fun night in," Y/n called out to her friends as they filed out the door, their laughter and chatter echoing down the hallway. She waved goodbye, feeling a bit relieved that the party had wound down. The quiet was a welcome change from the earlier clamor of games and gossip. The apartment was left in a gentle mess, but the warm glow of friendship lingered in the air.

Y/n stretched while she yawned and began to clean up, her mind wandering to Quinn. She knew he was out with the team, but she had hoped he'd be home sooner. The thought of his strong arms around her, calming her raging thoughts through the impending storm, brought a smile to her face and a bit of ease to the sickness winding in her stomach. As she packed away the last of the snacks, she glanced out the window. The night was still, the moon casting a serene light over the cityscape. She couldn't wait to crawl into bed and cuddle up with him, sharing stories about their respective evenings.

Meanwhile, at the bar, Quinn sat in the middle of a booth between Brock and Petey, his shoulders slumped and his eyes glazed over from the beers. The laughter of his teammates washed over him, but he couldn't find the energy to join in. He checked his phone again, noticing it was already 12:30 AM. He had promised Y/n he'd be home early tonight, but the guys had talked him into a few more drinks. He felt a twinge of guilt, but he never truly goes out so maybe just this once it should be okay to be selfish.

“Huggy put your phone down! We’re here to have fun.” Garland slurs from the other end of the table.

Quinn nodded and slid his phone into his pocket. He knew he had to stop checking it every few minutes. It was getting late and Y/n was probably worried, but he didn’t want to dampen the mood with his own anxieties. He took a deep breath and tried to push the feeling aside, focusing instead on the raucous laughter around him. The bass of the music pounded through the bar, making the floor vibrate beneath his feet. It was the kind of music that demanded you to either get up and dance or get lost in the rhythm, and for a brief moment, he let it consume him.

Back at the apartment, Y/n stood in their kitchen with shaking hands, the weather gradually getting worse was setting her nerves on edge. The wind had picked up outside, whipping against the windows like a crazed lover. Rain had started to patter down, a prelude to the storm that had her heart racing. She took a deep breath and tried to convince herself that Quinn was just stuck in traffic or had lost track of time. He'd be home soon, she thought, trying to reassure herself. But the silence of his unanswered texts and calls was deafening.

Her eyes darted around the room, searching for something to do, anything to distract her from the storm brewing outside and the one building inside her chest. She settled on making a cup of tea, her hands trembling as she filled the kettle and placed it on the stove. The gentle hiss of the gas flame igniting filled the room, but it did little to calm her nerves. As the water heated, she checked her phone again, willing it to buzz with a message from Quinn. Nothing. The wind howled, and the rain grew heavier, now pounding against the windows.

“Maybe if I call him?” She thought out loud. The clock read 1:10 AM as she dialed the number she knew by heart.

“Hey, you’ve reached Quinn, leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can!” His voice, though much younger and recorded, brought a bit of comfort, but not enough to ease the two storms brewing. The one in her and the one outside. She took a deep breath and began to leave a voicemail, her voice shaky but steady.

“Hey, Quinny, it’s me. Hope you’re having fun with the guys. Uhm just wanted to let you know that the storm is starting to get pretty intense out there... I’m sure you guys are fine and just having a good time. Call me when you get this, okay? I…just mi—want to know you’re okay. I love you, bye!” She hung up before she could say anything else that might betray her fear.

1:30 AM.

The bar was getting louder, the air thick with the scent of stale beer and sweat. Quinn leaned back in the booth, his arms folded tightly across his chest. The music was a cacophony of beats and shouts that didn't quite drown out the thunderous pounding of his own thoughts. His eyes scanned the table, finding his teammates passed out, their heads resting in a pool of spilled drinks and crumbs. He had never felt more out of place, yet he stayed to make sure these morons made it home.

If Quinn knew anything in that moment it was for sure that he’d be getting them back at practice this week.

Back at the apartment, Y/n's trembling grew more pronounced with each passing minute. She couldn't ignore the storm anymore. It had started as a gentle whisper, a hint of rain against the windows, but had escalated into a full-blown symphony of thunder and lightning. Her heart hammered in her chest, each peal of thunder sending shockwaves through her body. She curled up on Quinn's side of the bed, her phone clutched tightly in her hand, the cold screen a stark contrast to her clammy palms. The scent of his cologne still lingered on the pillow, faint but comforting. She buried her face in it, breathing him in, willing him to appear through the door.

‘One more call? No that’s to creepy clingy girlfriendy.. But he likes clingy girlfriendy y/n..’

Her thoughts swirled in a tornado of doubt and fear. Finally, she gave in, hitting the call button with trembling fingers. The line rang once, twice, three times, before she heard his voice, a recorded message that didn’t ease the ache in her chest this time. She took a deep breath, trying to keep the panic from seeping into her voice.

“Quinn, it’s me again. The storm is really bad out here. The lights are flickering, and I’m so scared. I know you’re busy, but I need you. I know you said you’d be home early, and I trusted you. Please, come home soon. I’m not okay without you here with me, especially when it’s like this. I love you so much, and I just want to be safe with you. Call me, text me, anything. I need to know you’re okay. I’m just—I’m really scared, Quinn. I’m sorry, I know I sound desperate, but I can’t help it. I need you right now. Please come home soon. Uhm bye,” she whispered into the void, the weight of her words hanging in the silent apartment like the eye of the storm.

The phone remained eerily silent, the screen a cold, unyielding barrier to the warmth she craved. She sent one more text, a simple heart emoji, and hoped that somehow, it would be enough to break through the barrier holding him hostage from his phone.

With each flash of lightning, the shadows from the windows grew more menacing, reaching in like skeletal fingers to pluck at her already frazzled nerves. Y/n couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed her fleece blanket and bolted from the bedroom, her bare feet slapping against the cool hardwood floor, and dashed into the ensuite bathroom. The only room in the apartment that didn't have windows and hopefully wouldn’t make her feel claustrophobic. The bathroom was a small sanctuary of porcelain and tile, the scent of mint and the hum of the extractor fan a stark contrast to the tempest outside. She locked the door behind her, creating a barrier between her and the storm, but it didn't help. She could still hear the thunder rumbling like a displeased giant, each boom echoing through the walls and reverberating the foundation of the building.

Her phone, now a silent sentinel of her fear, remained in her hand. She checked it again, hoping against hope that she had missed a call or a text. The screen remained dark, cold, and unchanged. Her heart sank, the weight of loneliness pressing down on her chest like a lead blanket. 'Why isn’t he answering?' Her thoughts screamed. She knew he wasn’t the type to ignore her, especially when she was scared. Maybe his phone died, or maybe he was too busy, but the doubt was eating her alive.

Quinn's head snapped up, the sound of his ringtone piercing through the buzz of the bar dwindling down. He fumbled in his pocket, pulling out his phone to see Y/n's name flashing on the screen. He had missed a couple calls and quite a few texts from her, each one more frantic than the last. His heart sank as he saw the time, 2 AM. He quickly stood up, knocking over Petey, who fell into Dak, in his haste. Which worked out in his favor as he had to walk over them. The room filled with fuzzy stars for a moment, a reminder of the drinks he too had consumed. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He wasn’t driving, so he ordered up an Uber home.

As he waited, Quinn felt his stomach twist into knots. He knew how much Y/n hated storms and here he was, leaving her alone to face it. He had promised to be there for her, and now she was probably terrified out of her mind. He scrolled through the texts, each one a silent plea for him to come home. He read the last one, her voice echoing in his mind. "I'm really scared, Quinn." He cringed, feeling like a complete asshole for not being there for her.

The Uber pulled up, and Quinn practically threw himself into the backseat, slamming the door shut behind him. The driver looked at him in the rearview mirror, the concern clear in his eyes. "You okay, buddy?"

Quinn nodded, trying to ignore the guilt that clawed at him. He fumbled with his phone, finally managing to play the voicemails. Y/n's voice filled his ear, each word a dagger to his heart. "The storm is really bad out here," she whispered, and he could almost feel the tremble in her voice. "The lights are flickering, and I’m so scared." The sound of her sobs grew louder, the thunder outside seeming to sync with her cries. Quinn wasn’t afraid of much, so he didn’t quite understand his girlfriend’s fear over storms. It could be because she didn’t care to say why she’s scared, and he wasn’t going to press her. It’s evident they bother her, and it’s enough for him to be the support she needs.

Until he’s not.

The bathroom door rattled in its frame as the storm outside reached a crescendo. Lightning flashing under the space between the door and the floor. Y/n had never thought that lightning was the scary part of storms, it has always been the thunder that had driven her to seek refuge in someone, something, someplace. She wasn’t quite sure why the deep, resonating booms always managed to succeed in getting her so worked up.

Maybe when she was younger it was because she had always associated them with crawling in bed with her parents or if the power went out they would gather in the living room to play games in the candle light. Until the day every thing just up and changed. No one was there to help her weather the storm, figuratively or literally.

Maybe now it’s because she has grown accustomed to associating thunderstorms with Quinn's soothing touch and whispers, telling her that everything would be okay. That with him, he would never let anything happen to her. He, who had become her anchor in the storm, was nowhere to be found.

The Uber ride home was a blur of neon lights and puddles reflecting the chaos of the storm. Quinn's mind was racing, his thoughts tangled with guilt and fear for Y/n. He had never been the one to break a promise, especially not one so important to her. He had to get home, had to hold her and tell her it was okay, even if he didn’t believe it himself.

The car pulled up to the apartment complex, and Quinn dashed out into the rain. The cold droplets stung his skin, sobering him up as he sprinted towards the building. The lights in the hallway flickered as he panted up the stairs, the thunder now a constant drumroll in his ears. His hand shook as he inserted the key into the lock, the sound of the tumblers clicking into place echoing through the empty corridor.

He burst into the apartment, the door slamming against the wall. "Y/n!" he called out, his voice strained with worry. The living room was dark, except for the TV screen flickering with a muted news broadcast. Rainwater dripped from his hair, tracing a path down his forehead and into his eyes. He wiped it away, his heart racing as if he had just played a full hockey game. Quinn let out a heavy breath before he hurried upstairs towards their bedroom.

Reaching the bedroom door, he carefully pushed it open. The sight that greeted him was not what he expected. The bed, usually a bastion of order and comfort, was a writhing mess of blankets and pillows. It was clear she had been restless, her fear probably keeping her from finding any semblance of peace. But she wasn’t there. The room was empty except for the ghosts of his guilt and her fear. He flipped on the lights, the sudden brightness piercing the gloom, revealing the chaos of his side of their now empty bed.

Quinn's eyes searched the room, looking for any clue as to where she could be. That’s when he heard it. A muffled sound, faint but unmistakable. Sniffles, coming from the bathroom. He approached the closed door, the thunder outside giving way to the quiet that follows, as if the storm was holding its breath. He placed his hand on the cool wood, feeling the vibration of the storm's power through it. "Y/n?" he called out as softly as possible.

The sniffles grew quieter, almost as if she was trying to control her cries. She stepped out of her place of refuge enough to unlock the door, she then quickly retreated back to her previous position. She was curled up in the bathtub, her knees to her chest, her chin perched on her knees, her eyes red and puffy from crying.

Quinn’s heart broke when he saw her like this. He had never seen her so scared, so vulnerable. He approached her slowly, not wanting to startle her further. "Hey," he said softly, reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder. But she jerked away from his touch, her body stiff and face showing no emotion.

He dropped to his knees, the one desperate for her attention now.

"Y/n, baby, I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice filled with genuine concern. "I had no idea it was this bad." He took a step closer, the scent of rain and alcohol mingling with the faint minty scent of their bathroom. He wished he could take away her fear, absorb it into himself so she didn't have to feel it anymore.

"You promised me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "You promised me, I would never be alone again with no warning, no explanation beforehand. You promised you’d be home early." She choked back a cry on the last part, her eyes glued to the faucet, watching the droplets of water fall into the tub. Quinn shattered into a trillion pieces. He had promised all of that. No apology will be enough to make any of this better, he accepted that, but he had to at least try.

"I know," he began, his voice thick with regret. "I fucked up, Y/n. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, I didn't mean to leave you like this." He paused, willing her to look at him, to see the pain in his eyes that mirrored hers. "You're my entire world, you're everything to me. I'd never want to cause you pain, especially not when you're already scared." He tried reaching for her again, this time to push her hair back and combing his fingers through her hair. He left his hand cradling her head.

"Garland told me to put my phone away," he murmured, his voice low and tight. "And before I knew it, Brock was pretty drunk and Petey was extremely wasted. I had a few myself. The music was so loud that the bass kept me from feeling the vibrations of my phone, and I lost track of time. With them so wasted, I felt I needed to make sure they got home okay, but when I finally checked my phone.” Quinn paused swallowing down the knot in his throat “and I discovered your calls and all the messages I left." His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his guilt. "I know it doesn’t account for the fact I should have checked my phone way before, I should have come home earlier like I had promised."

Y/n felt the anger and fear melt away with each of his words. She knew the guys could be a handful. What group of hockey players weren’t a handful? She didn’t want to add anymore to his burden of guilt. She leaned into his hand, the warmth of his touch sending waves of comfort through her. "Can we go cuddle now?" She asked him shyly, her voice still shaky. The storm outside was slowly calming down, but the tempest in her chest raged on. She needed him, needed his warmth and his words of comfort to soothe her. Quinn quickly wiped the shocked look from his that was slapped on the moment cuddle now fell from her lips.

“C’mere pretty girl.” Quinn grins as he lifts her from her bathtub refuge. “I will never pass up an opportunity to cuddle with you.” He softly places her down on her side of the bed, walking to his dresser to grab himself a set of dry clothes, finally. “I’ll be right back to you.”

Y/n nods into his chest, watching him retreat back into the bathroom. She takes a deep breath, the fear of losing him subsiding more and more with his touch. She grabs the first t-shirt she can find from his drawer, pulls it over her head and wraps it around herself like a cocoon. She crawls into bed, able to relax this time around when lying down.

When Quinn returns, freshly changed into a dry shirt and sweatpants, the sight of her in his shirt brings a warm smile to his face. He slides into bed next to her, pulling her close so that they are face to face. Fitting together as if they were made for each other. She feels the warmth of his body seep into hers, the steady thump of his heart beneath her palm as she lays her hand flat on his chest. The rhythm of it soothing her like a lullaby.

"I could feel and listen to your heart all day, just to know you’re okay," she mumbles into the fabric of his shirt, her voice muffled but clear enough for him to hear. He pulls her in tighter, a silent acknowledgement. A low rumble of thunder in the distance happens and he rubs his hand soothingly over the back of her head.

Quinn whispers, "I’m making you a new promise, pretty girl. I promise from here on out I will not be going out when storms are predicted. Only exceptions of course are those to do with work. Unless it’s just the guys wanting to go out, that is not work related.” Y/n didn’t speak, to exhausted to form words just nodded her head in acknowledgment before dozing off.

He watched her for a few minutes, grateful to be holding her in his arms. The thought of her curled up in the tub, terrified, was a knife in his chest. He had never meant to cause her this much pain. He kissed the top of her head reveling in her soft breaths as she slept before whispering what’s been on his mind since his shower to her sleeping form. “I noticed you didn’t end your second voicemail with an ‘i love you’ or now before falling asleep…we’ve always made a point to make sure the other knows, regardless of how bad the argument was. I know you aren’t hearing this because you’re asleep but it’s easier to say it now than looking in your eyes tomorrow and watching tonight all over. I just really hope you know how much I love you.”

“Good gracious, you forget and he gets all sappy. Yes Quinny I love you. I love you. I love you.” In between each ‘I love you’ was a peck on the lips.

Quinn couldn’t help but laugh, the sound low and warm, like a quiet summer night. He pulled her closer, the storm outside now just a faint memory, the rain had turned to a gentle pitter-patter. He kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose and finally her lips, feeling the tension of the night slip away with each touch.

"You know you're going to have to repeat that when I’m fully awake, right?" She mumbled falling right back asleep.

“That is perfectly fine, I’ll be right here next to you whenever you’re ready.” Quinn closed his eyes and was soon asleep as well.

A night of two tales, Quinn is lucky it worked out for him and happy he’s able to keep his girl.

[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.

[huggybearhughes43]

Haha I am LOVING the Hughes brother series…. Can I just request one with only jack? But not only smut. Some angst too. Like they fall asleep together at the lake house after doing that. And Quinn and Luke find them the next morning but don’t say anything. They just ignore the both of them Nd are super rude towards her, so they all are at family dinner and Quinn speaks up saying stuff towards her basically exposing what she was doing and she gets up and leaves but then you can get the rest!!

Kiss me hard before you go

Jack Hughes x Fem! Reader

Okay I changed up the end cus I might write more chapters but yeah. Also, last part until I clear out my inbox! Here’s pt1, pt2, and pt3

Warnings- All the Hughes brothers x reader, Jack Hughes smut, angst, soft sex, raw dawgin, a lotta crying and not the good kind

Summary- After a long day with the boys, Jack tells the reader that he found a girl he really likes but wants to have one last time with her before him and the girl get serious. Quinn doesn’t take it too well when he finds Jack and the reader in bed together.

Word count- 2.1k

It had been three hours since Trevor and Cole arrived. The two insisted on spending the day on the boat, in which the brothers couldn’t refuse. I sit by myself on the back of the boat with Quinn driving and the other four boys at the front. The noon sun shined on my face, resulting in me putting my book over my face to block the sun out. Quinn stops the boat and makes his way to me without me realizing. The touch of his soft hands on my arm startles me, I take the book off my face and furrow my brows. “What?” He smiles down at me. “You’re sitting on the anchor.” A small “oh” falls off my lips as I stand up.

He drops the anchor into the water and then closes the seat I was sitting on so I can sit on it once again. I grab a towel I packed and lay it out on the back tail of the boat. Before I lay down on the towel I pull Quinn’s shirt off of myself, followed by my shorts. I hear a faint whistle come from Trevor’s way, resulting in me flipping him off before laying on the towel. The boys are in the water in the beat of a heart, but for some reason Quinn stays. I’m quietly reading my book when I feel a presence next to me.

“What’re you reading?” He practically lays his head on my shoulder to look at the book. “I’m re-reading Percy Jackson.” I show him the cover then go back to reading. “Why aren’t you in the water with everyone else?” He moves his head on my shoulder to look at me, “I’d rather be up here with you.” I close my book and look at him, “I wish I never did this” Quinn furrows his brows, “what? Why?” I gnaw at my bottom of my lip before I tell him. “I know you know that I liked you but did you really know how long?”

Quinn takes a breath, thinking for a moment before shaking his head. “No, I don’t think I do.” I stare into his eyes before looking away. “Since the day we met.” I mumble. “Y/n, fifteen years?” I shrug at his words, “now I’ve ruined it.” Quinn’s eyes go soft and he rubs his jaw. “You think about our happiness too much” I look at him and frown, “what?” “I mean, even if you do something that hurts our feelings, we’ll get over it. That’s how much we love you, y/n.” I smile as he talks, “thank you.” We stare at each other for a short moment before Quinn leans in. The kiss was soft and thoughtful.

“Ugh, stop making out.” We jump away from each other, a smile cracking on my lips when I realize it was just Jack. “Could you be any louder?” Quinn shakes his head and Jack scoffs, “could you be any more obvious?” The other boys follow Jack suite, getting back on the boat. Quinn sits with me for a moment more in silence, “just remember what I said, okay?” I look at him and nod before he stands up, joining his brothers back on the inside of the boat.

After the five hour mark, at two in the afternoon, the boat ride was miserable. I didn’t want to say anything because the boys were having fun but my skin felt tight from the sun and the heat was making me nauseous. Luke got back on the boat for a reason that’s unknown and noticed my state almost immediately. “Y/n, are you okay?” My head was leaned back in the seat with a cold water bottle pressed to my neck. “Overheated.” “Still don’t wanna get in the lake?” I shake my head without even looking at him. “I’ll tell the guys, won’t mention your name, promise.” I smile at his gentle words, “thank you, Lukey”

I didn’t know what Luke told them but the boys were back on the boat in minutes. Quinn was behind the wheel, taking us back to the docks. I was the first one who rushed off of the boat the second we were tied to the dock. The sun tight skin was uncomfortable as I rushed inside. I run up to Luke and I’s shared room to change into a tube top and loose shorts to ease the pain of the burnt skin. I sigh as I make my way downstairs, regretting not wearing sun cream. The boys goofed their way into the living room next to the kitchen.

I walk past Ellen and she gasps. “Oh honey, I have cream upstairs in my room. It’ll help the burn, come on.” I nod and follow her back up to the stairs. Ellen was like a second mom to me, she took care of me that way. So when she asked me to take the shirt off I was wearing I did so without second thought. I pulled it off as Ellen grabbed the cream out of her drawers. She rubs it into her hands before smothering it against my sunscreen. My heart skipped a beat when the door swung open. My arms instinctively fly to cover my chest, a huff of almost relief fell from my lips realizing it was just Jack. Ellen scoffs and turns me to face away from her son, “didn’t I ever teach you to knock?” He rubs his neck and shakes his head, “sorry mom, I’ll come back later.” He turns and leaves, closing the door behind him.

Ellen finishes up with my back, my skin already feeling more than better. I put my shirt back on before thanking her and leaving the room. The rest of the day goes as normal as one would think. The boys hung out around the pool while Jim grilled dinner, I stayed in with Ellen so I didn’t harm my skin any further. But what I couldn’t help but notice the lingering stares from the middle brother anytime he comes inside. Even during dinner he couldn’t keep his eyes off of me, which of course Quinn took a notice to. I decided to help with the dishes afterwards, Jack jumping to voluntarily help me.

He stands beside me and I can’t help but speak up. “What’s going on with you, J?” I look up at him. He shrugs, “nothing” I roll my eyes with a soft scoff, “you’re such a bad liar.” He finishes up the dishes and sighs, “if you come up to my room later I’ll tell you-“ “trying to get into my pants?” Jack laughs and shakes his head, “no but that would definitely be a plus if you let me.” I roll my eyes and nod, “yeah, I’ll be up there later.” I dry my hands and sit down on the couch.

Once the boys starting going to bed one by one, I decide it’s my time to as well. Jack mentions that he’s going up to his room and I follow up by saying the same. Jacks already on his bed when I enter his room, closing the door behind me. I sit on the side of his bed with my arms crossed. “Okay, I’ve been going over what I was gonna say and you were right.” He smiles cheekily and I scoff. “But listen! I have a reason.” “Uh huh, and that reason is…?” I look at him with a raised brow. “So there’s this girl, right?” “There’s a girl and you want to get into my pants?” I look at him confused. “Listen!” He urges “I’m listening.”

“I just- before me and her get serious, you know? I really like her, but you- shit I’ve liked you for years.” I can’t help but laugh at his words. He scoffs, “stop laughing!” I pinch my lips to stop myself from even smiling and I nod my head, “fine, fine, okay.” I giggle, agreeing to help him. He smiles and grasps my hips, pulling me onto his lap. “You’re so lucky I love you.” I whisper before kissing him softly, “I know” he mumbles against my lips. It was weird coming from Jack, he was normally fast paced and sloppy but now he was soft. I guessed he just knew that this would be the last time we were able to be together like this.

Jack moves me so I’m the one with my head pressed against the pillows while he hovered above me. His hands pull at my top before pulling it off of my head, his head dipping down to my bare chest. He presses soft kisses all over my chest before sucking faint marks over my breasts. He carefully nips at my nipples, pulling them into his mouth before kissing down my stomach. I never thought I’d see this side of Jack, soft and caring. He loops his fingers in my shorts, pulling them down as well as my panties. Before he had the chance to do anything, I pull him up to connect our lips.

He pulls away for a moment to rid of his own shirt before connecting our lips again. My hands roam over his chest and forth down to rest on his abs. Jack sits up, ridding himself of the rest of his clothes. He presses his head to the nape of my neck before lining himself up. My wetness served as a lubricant, helping him slip inside of me. I let out a content sigh when he bottoms out, causing him to laugh softly against my neck. “Shut up” he smirks against my neck, “yes ma’am.” And before I even have the chance to respond, he retracts his hips and snaps them back into mine. With each thrust, a moan like gasp falls from my lips.

Jack reaches his hand down in between us, pressing his thumb to my clit. With the feeling of him circling my sensitive bud, my cunt clenches around his dick. The feeling makes him groan against my neck, “I’m gonna cum” he whispers. I nod with my eyes pinched shut, “me too.” With just a few more thrusts, he lets go and releases deep inside of me. The feeling sends me over the edge, my juices coating him. I look down at him and when our eyes meet, a smile cracks onto my lips. He slowly pulls out and lays down next to me, pulling me into his arms. I reach down to the floor, stealing jacks shirt to pull over myself. I lay back in his arms. Without another word, we both fall soundly asleep.

The sound of a scoff wakes me up, I look towards the door to see an obviously pissed off Quinn. I look back down at Jack, he was still sound asleep. I look back at Quinn and he looked as if he were trying to kill me with his look. I roll my eyes and stand up, walking up to Quinn to push him out of the room. I follow him quick suits, “what’s your problem?” I whisper yell to him when we both walk into his room. “What’s my problem? Are you just trying to play with our feelings?” I look at him dumbfounded before anger floods my face. “This is the exact fucking reason I said I regret doing this, the reason I can’t date any of you!” “You regret doing it? Then why’d you go and do it again?” I stare at the oldest brother with a disgusted look on my face.

“What happened with what you said earlier? Huh? That even if I hurt your feelings you’d get over because that’s how much you love me? Or were you talking about your brothers forgiving me if I got with you?” His silence gives me my answer and I just shake my head, “go fuck yourself.” I say in a fit of rage before storming out of his room, making my way to my shared one with Luke. Luke’s sound asleep when I rush in, the sound of my heavy foot steps and quiet sobs wake him up.

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” He asks, holding his arms out for me to crawl into without another word. He holds he as I cry into his chest, I knew even if I told him that he wouldn’t be mad at me in a million years. But still, if I tried to tell him the sobs would muffle my words and he wouldn’t even be able to tell me. He runs his hands over my hair in attempt to soothe me. “It’s okay, y/n, just tell me later. Everything’s going to be okay, I promise.” My sobs die off as I slowly fall asleep in Luke’s arms. He doesn’t stop his comforting motions until he was sure I was asleep. Luke lays down as ultimately falls asleep with me, still holding me close.

[iliketangerines]

Tangerine, can I request angst?

One wherein the reader is Shang Taung's minion who was sent to Liu Kang's timeline to disrupt their peace but fell for the Fire God instead because he helped her find herself. Like originally, the reader was like Harley Quinn towards Shang Tsung but Liu Kang helped her heal. Angst ensues when her origins were revealed and she was defeated by Titan Shang Tsung and was taken back to her original timeline where she was killed by that timeline's Liu Kang.

Sorry if it's too long, and it's alright if you don't want to write it!<33

you're not him

a/n: ahhhh, yes, let me flex my angst writing muscles real quick, haven't done this in a while, changed some stuff around but it still fits the basic permise

pairing: liu kang x gn!reader

warnings: canon typical violence

this wasn’t right, none of this was right

he was kind, nice, warm, everything Shang Tsung wasn’t, and you felt yourself drawn to the god despite your orders

you really had tried your best to create chaos, to find this timeline’s Shang Tsung and Quan Chi and harness their ambition and sorcery to create death

but then, you had gone and found them and saw that they were already taken in by Liu Kang, to be reformed and taught to harness their powers for good

you had tried to infiltrate Empress Sindel’s court, to whisper thirsts for power to General Shao and Reiko nand cause an uprising to kill Outworld’s champions

but the suggestions seemed to fly right over their heads, and they remained fiercely loyal to Empress Sindel

you didn’t even try with Mileena, and when you had gone in search of anyone that could and should have wanted to usurp the throne for themselves, you found nothing but peace and tranquility and happiness

every problem that they might’ve had were already solved or mitigated, and your mission was on the trajectory to fail

you could not fail Shang Tsung, he would kill you if you came back fruitless and without disrupting the peace of Lord Liu Kang’s timeline

and so, you went straight to Liu Kang, to go straight to the source of all this peace and kill it at its source, except that he had already been expecting you

he had seen you through the sands of time, granules not meant to be in this hourglass, and he sat you down and drank tea with you

not an ounce of stress or worry marred his features as you picked at your fingers in nervousness, had he poisoned the tea? was he planning on killing you? was he going to send you back to Shang Tsung with no results?

he didn’t do any of those options, instead he talked about idle things, about how he solved his realm’s problems before they got out of control and how he knows you’re here to disrupt his timeline

and yet, even after that conversation, he offers you reprieve, to train underneath him and get away from Shang Tsung from your timeline

you hesitate for a moment, confused by the warmth he extended to you, but you take his hand after a moment

one of his monks escort you to a personal room, gives you clean training uniforms that fit you, and leaves you alone to gather your thoughts

you want to kill him, you need to kill him, to please Shang Tsung, because Shang Tsung would slit your throat, would kill you, would torture you, would spare no mean to make sure you suffer

then you thumb the soft material in your hands, the clean training uniform, a personal room, an adjacent bathroom just for yourself

Liu Kang had managed to bring peace to all of the realms here, and he must be a powerful god to do so, perhaps the god would be able to protect you from the wrath of Shang Tsung

and so, you train at the Fire Temple with the other monks, you meet his champions and become friends with them, you grow closer with Liu Kang as he talks to you over tea

he doesn’t poke or prod, just listens and hums, filling in the empty silence with his own words to keep the conversation going

day by day, you relax, you stop checking every corner for danger, you stop guarding your food like it’s your last and only meal, your stop pushing and straining your body until you collapse during training sessions

you feel your spirits lift, your body feels lighter, the world seems brighter and warmer and better

you sit next to Liu Kang, talking to him about a flower you saw yesterday, how beautiful it was and how it bloomed in the sun

it was something you had never really seen, no Shang Tsung’s realm was just full of death and anger and husks, nothing alive was there, nothing beautiful existed

he asks you more about the realm you’re from, how different everything is, if the counterparts of his champions live with Shang Tsung

you clear your throat, fingers gripping onto the teacup as you think and dredge up the memories

you tell him about Shang Tsung’s champions, about how Lord Raiden and Fujin still exist but do the bidding of Shang Tsung to clear and conquer the realms

you tell him about how screams constantly fill the air, how blood stains the ground and leaves the permanent sickly smell of iron in the air

you tell him how Liu Kang also exists in Shang Tsung’s universe, how he is much crueler, angrier, fast to fuse and killed without remorse

Shang Tsung’s Liu Kang was the perfect lap dog and weapon against any unruly civilians or protests or civil wars in the realms

he was Shang Tsung’s best fighter, and if Liu Kang wanted to, he could snap your neck easily, break you in half and not even bat an eyelash

you flinch as you feel Liu Kang place a hand on your thigh, drawing you out of the memories, and he smiles at you, a little concerned

he tells you you do not have to worry about that, that he will keep you safe from Shang Tsung, that you do not deserve to wilt in such an environment

it makes your heart warm as you blush and tilt your head away to hide your face and sip on your tea

after that day, the relationship between you and Liu Kang shifts

he’s much closer to you, much more handsy and touchy, and he always finds time to bring you bouquets of flowers from his personal gardens

you find yourself leaning into his touch, seeking him every time you walk into a room, reaching out to brush your fingers against his when you two stand close to each other

you lay in a field, an off day to relax from training, and you read a book, something that you hadn’t learned how to do until you came to this realm

it was fascinating, the characters, the words, and it was quite entertaining

you don’t even have to look up to know Liu Kang approaches you, and he sits next to you and glances at what you’re reading

he passes you a cup of tea silently and lets you read in a comfortable silence as he skims the pages while you go over the sentences

finally, you reach the end of your chapter and set the book down to look at Liu Kang, and you hadn’t realized how close his face was to yours

you flush but don’t move away, and he doesn’t either

instead, he leans in a little closer to you, bringing his hand up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, and you bring your hand up to cup his and bring it to your cheek

he holds onto your face gently, carefully, as if you would break

you tilt your head back, and he leans his head down, lips only a breath apart, so close to touching you, kissing you

the alarm bells ring in the courtyard, and the both of you jolt from your hazy daydream and back into reality as you stand up and rush to the main courtyard

you find Shang Tsung standing in front of a dark portal, clutching onto the neck of a monk and draining them of their power before dropping them to the ground as a husk

the titan spots you and gives a wide smile, but you can feel and hear the malice in his voice, how he’s going to make you regret for you decision to turn against him

you ready your stance, ready to fight him, but Liu Kang pushes you behind him, shielding you away from Shang Tsung’s maniacal glare

he laughs at how protective Liu Kang has grown of you before he starts to insult you, calling you a dirty traitor, a good for nothing harlot, how you’re useless and a pathetic excuse of a warrior

Liu Kang scowls at the words and his fists light into flame, and Shang Tsung smiles and continues his insults

you see him ready his claws, his powers glowing in his hands, and you know that this not an encounter Liu Kang will survive if you don’t intervene

as Liu Kang lunges forward, you grab onto his clothes and pull him back, using your body weight and momentum to throw him to the floor and yourself forward into Shang Tsung’s body

you push him through the portal, and the titan grabs onto you tightly, bringing you through the portal with him

you catch a glance backward, and you see Liu Kang reaching out for you, his words forming a sound of anguish

and then the portal blinks away and you’re back in your own dimension

Shang Tsung throws you onto your back, causing your breath to disappear into the air, and he stabs his claws through your stomach, and blood spurts from your mouth

but you grit your teeth and bear through the pain as he slashes and claws and beats you within an inch of your life

your blood paints the ground in a twisted canvas, but Shang Tsung stops just a few seconds before dealing the landing blow

he calls over Liu Kang, and you see him come over to you, eyes no longer warm, hands cold and painful, and words sharp and jagged as he beats you to death

he smiles at you wickedly as he deals the final blow, and you hope that your Liu Kang has found a way to protect the peace of his realm as your last thought

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

flowers in the window - ep40

summary: elias pettersson x f!reader // inspired by this song! // just moments of your relationship with elias (each break has a timeskip of a few years)

warnings: mentions of drinking alcohol, reader can play the piano, fluff, i think there might be some tense mistakes at the start, panic attacks, anxiety, angst, swearing, , stress relating to teaching/work, mentions of dying alone, mentions of marriage, babies (+Quinn's fictional partner is called Kat!)

word count: 8.1k

You watched the slender fingers dance playfully over the keys, catching occasionally on the ebony, tapping out a random and entirely chaotic tune that had you trying not to smile at the attempt to pull something out of you – mostly anything to distract you from the lies Brock had fed you in order to promise your attendance, and to his efforts, it was working.

The loud chatter and bustling crowds were still on your mind, there was no doubt about that, but with your back to everything and your ‘peace-offering’ doing his best to distract you, it was starting to work. Although, it was hard to break the habit of looking at your watch every five minutes, knowing that you’d have to get out of bed early the next morning for work. In fact, it was that knowledge that made you reluctant to even attend this ‘small gathering’ in the first place, something Brock had taken in his stride and then proceeded to lie about.

Hence, the peace offering in the form of a very familiar Swede, who was a little too willing to get you to crack a smile for someone who didn’t usually do that kind of thing.

You shook your head at his obnoxious banging of keys, the sound hardly even heard over the voices behind you, and gently reached your own hands to tap his away as you played out a short snippet of something that at least sounded vaguely nicer than his nonsensical mess.

You could feel his eyes intently watching where you put your fingers, his own palms resting against the tops of his jean-clad thighs. The tune was one of the first ones you’d learnt as a kid: Für Elise, and although the notes of the piano were quieter due to the party-scene raging, you could tell Elias was still trying to commit your motions to memory, just further down on the piano.

His hands came to rest against the keys once more, head tilting back in your direction to where your own fingers were still poised over the correct keys, translating the pattern to his own hands. Back and forth, back and forth between his hands and yours, and his sheer concentration on getting his fingers in the correct place actually prompted a soft laugh from you.

Despite his focus on his hands, you saw the way the corner of his mouth quirked up at the sound, a triumphant little smile that stuck around until you began slowly playing the first couple of notes for him to copy – then it faded a little, upon the realisation that he couldn’t quite assemble his fingers and move them to the correct notes in the right order.

“Here.” You mumbled, scooching across what little space was left between you both, until your shoulders, hips and thighs were pressed together, and reached under his fingers to place your own hands.

His hands were a little cold, and almost without even intending to, your attention shot briefly to the sweating bottle of beer placed rightfully on a coaster on top of the lip to the piano, before shooting back down to your hands. His touch was delicate, as though he was half-hesitating on whether or not he should fully allow his weight to rest over the backs of your hands, and you pushed your hands a little further into the palms of his, encouraging him to place his fingers over the back of yours.

You lowered your fingers to the keys, ensuring to press slowly so the pattern would be easier to digest, and then stopped. When you tilted your head a little to gauge his reaction, his eyes were already fixed on you, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

He wasn’t even watching what you were trying to show him.

“I didn’t know you could play.” He said, lifting his hands from yours so you could remove yourself from his grip.

“I just know a few things.” You shook your head, dismissing his comment with a few melodic taps against the keys, drawing his attention from you to the piano under your hands, “How do you know I can play anyway, we can barely hear it over Brock’s racket?”

“I just…” He trailed off, his fingers tapping out what you’d shown him, before pausing. Your eyes snapped to his side profile, taking in the slight furrow of his brow and the slight part of his mouth when he got stuck on the next key.

You straightened on the bench, leaning over to move his fingers to the right keys, and, like a switch had been flicked, he seemed to relax, his fingers continuing as though he’d not had that small stumble in the first place.

“I guess it’s just blind faith.” He laughed a little under his breath, the avoidance of eye contact screaming everything he didn’t say, and you felt your face flush a little at the insinuation.

His honesty, no matter how long you’d known him or how long you’d been dating, never really failed to stun you. You weren’t sure if he knew what he was doing to you when he said things like that so effortlessly and so easily, and you felt your breath hitch a little in your chest.

No one really knew about you guys – Quinn definitely did, but that was only because he, quote, unquote: could just tell. Neither you or Elias were putting in much effort to hide your relationship, but it had slowly gotten to the point where Brock was trying to set you guys up with other people; at first it was a little amusing, but as the weeks drifted by and he still remained insistent in the matter, it became less endearing.

Though, there had been many times where Brock had done or said something that might have hinted at him knowing something. For instance, today’s ‘peace offering’ came in the form of Petey sitting by himself, his back to the party and his elbow draped across the shut lid as he drafted a text to you and it wasn’t the first time Brock had used Petey as a selling point whenever you were sceptical of going out.

You inhaled, blinking away from him, “Noted.”

He nudged you with his elbow teasingly, “Are you turning red?”

You rolled your eyes fondly, shaking your head, “Give me a song.”

“Uh,” he leant his head back slightly in thought, “do you know the Blinding Lights intro?” He quirked a brow in your direction, blue eyes staring straight into yours with a softness you’d learnt was mostly reserved for you.

You swallowed, “Yeah, I can try to…just give me a minute.” You tapped on a few keys, trying to match it to the intro you knew, vaguely aware of Elias’s intent gaze now locked on you, a far cry from the subtlety he usually reserved for you in public settings.

It was partially why you weren’t surprised when his phone buzzed on top of the piano, a message notification from Brock. He sighed audibly, you continuing to play around with the keys, and swiped the notification open, sneakily tilting his phone in your direction when he read the screen.

You pretended to keep playing, your eyes now taking in the message, before rolling your eyes with an amused smile.

Brock Canucks: When I start kicking people out it doesn’t apply to you guys

“I knew he’d regret inviting this many people.” You muttered, your attention suddenly getting stolen by a wet nose nudging your leg. Your hands flew off the piano, reaching down to show Milo some love, before hauling him up to sit on your knee.

Fifteen minutes later all three of you had migrated to the couch, all seemingly a little too tired to be actively engaged in the conversation Brock had instigated with Quinn and JT. Elias had shivered when he’d sat down, the sudden loss of the crowd sending the temperature plummeting in Brock’s apartment and subsequently doing nothing to shield his bare arms in his short-sleeved t-shirt. 

You hadn’t said anything to him, just thrown the blanket you knew to rest across the back of the couch across both your laps, and watched him settle his head snugly against your ribs, the blanket pulled right up to his chin and his legs kicked out across the carpet. Milo had somehow buried himself under the blanket too, his nose tucked under Elias’s chin and body draped across the both of you, acting as a living, breathing hot water bottle.

After a while, though, Elias’s hand stroking Milo’s head had slowed, and his eyes had fluttered closed after a yawn, and from your higher position, you could just make out the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. You didn’t know if it was because he was already exhausted before he even left the house, or the combination of alcohol, warmth and the gentle sweep of your fingers across the bridge of his nose and cheekbones that had sent him over the edge, but you’d made sure the latter was hidden from his teammates by the lump of Milo’s body. 

Brock must have seen, though, but he hadn’t said anything, just smiled.

***

It was a knock at the door that had you peering over the top of your laptop screen to share a confused glance with Petey. His hand momentarily tightened on your calf when he turned around to glance at the front door, turning back to you with a ‘what the hell?’ look pasted on his face.

“Are we expecting anyone?” You asked, snapping the lid of your laptop shut and swinging your legs out of Elias’s lap to put the laptop on the coffee table.

It was always a shock when someone knocked on your apartment door, mostly because the only people who could essentially get that far in the building were people that lived there, otherwise security would have buzzed up. Needless to say, when that person knocked again, you were both propelled so quickly off the sofa that your newly-adopted dog startled awake and eagerly followed you both on your heels as you rushed to the door, slipping slightly in your socks.

It was Elias that managed to slide to the door quicker, rolling his eyes and immediately retreating back to the couch after peeking through the peephole. You watched him with a frown, the dog between you both snapping his head back and forth, eventually settling for rejoining the Swede on the cushions once more.

“Who…” You started, immediately understanding the lack of enthusiastic reaction when it was Brock on the other side of the door, pink-cheeked and looking a little nervous.

“Hi.” You threw open the door with a friendly smile, a hand coming to rest on your hip as Brock seemed to let out a sigh of relief.

“Hey, sorry to barge in here unannounced,” he started, stuffing his hands in his pockets, stepping into the apartment when you opened the door to let him in. He seemed to scan the entire room, the worried crease between his brows disappearing when he couldn’t see Elias, who, rather rudely, had hidden himself on the sofa, not a single socked foot or hair visible from where Brock seemed to lead you over to the kitchen island, “I just need to talk to you now Petey’s not here.”

Your eyes zipped to the sofa, a little suspicious but entirely too invested in the anticipation to even bother correcting Brock – probably at his own expense, but you had no issue dealing with any potential fallout later.

He rifled through your cupboards, not saying anything else until he’d pulled out a glass and filled it with water from the tap, before turning to you and gesturing to the island stool, a nervous expression on his face.

You swallowed, a sudden pebble of dread settling in your stomach as you took the seat, too apprehensive to tease him for making himself at home.

“So…” he started, clearing his throat, before deciding to take a sip of water.

“You’re kind of freaking me out–”

“It’s nothing bad, I swear.” He interrupted, spluttering slightly as his cheeks coloured, “In fact, it’s really good.”

You blinked, a little unsure, “Okay.”

“Thank you.” He said, a little breathlessly and with an air of finality, an awkward smile on his face. 

You blinked, expecting him to elaborate, but when all he did next was take another sip of water, you felt your face contort into a confused frown. You’d known Brock for years, he’d been the one to introduce you and Petey in the first place, but even after finding out about you two, he’d never acted weirder than he was now. He was tetchy, out of breath and pink – the latter wasn’t exactly unusual for him, but combined with the other two things? 

Concerning.

“What for?” You asked, folding your arms against the countertop. 

There was a clacking of paws and a chinkling of a collar making its way towards where you and Brock were in the kitchen, and you instinctively reached a hand down, a wet nose greeting the inside of your palm before wandering over to nudge Brock in the leg.

He bent down, using the interruption as a reprieve from answering your question, “Hey, girl.” He cooed, scratching Tuesday behind the ears until her attention had dwindled and she silently padded back to the sofa, disappearing from sight once more as she presumably curled up against Elias once more.

Brock cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, “Um…I don’t know how to say it.”

You inhaled, pursing your lips, “Right.” There was a pause, neither of you quite knowing where to go from there, “Just say what you’re thinking and then correct it if it doesn’t sound right.”

He nodded, running a hand through his hair, “I guess I just wanted to thank you for loving Petey the way you do, and I know that’s a weird thing to thank someone for, because a thank you implies that it’s some kind of chore, which it isn’t but…It’s comforting to know my best friends are happy with each other and have someone looking out for them.” He took a breath, watching you carefully, “I think it’s kinda weird, actually, because I remember this one time distinctly before he met you and he’d had quite a lot to drink, he ended up talking about how he was probably gonna die alone, so it’s just nice to know that that’s not the case. Also, you guys are good together. Just wanted to say that because I don’t think I’ve ever said how glad I am that you found each other when you did.”

The only thing you could truly register was the pounding of your heart against your sternum. That, and the way your jaw seemed to have dropped as you took in everything Brock was saying. It was a lot.

“Oh.” Was all you could say, entirely too overwhelmed with gratitude and appreciation for the man in front of you, his hands clenching and unclenching as though he wasn’t sure if he should approach you or not, to even get anything else out.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly, leaning his head down to get a look at your face. When he realised you weren’t in the least bit upset at what he’d said, he seemed to relax, an easy smile making its way onto his face.

There was a distant shuffle from somewhere behind you, and you saw Brock’s eyes dart to the sofa, mouth immediately setting itself into a hard line as his head dipped down mid-sigh. It was pretty easy to guess what he’d figured out when his eyes swung back to you, now shooting a sheepish smile in his direction, “Is he over there?” He mouthed, and it was the slight wince in his features that you took pity on, shaking your head.

“He’s asleep.” You lied, voice loud enough to make sure Elias would get the memo in case Brock decided to do some investigating of his own, “And I’m fine, I just wasn’t expecting you to say all of that.”

He shrugged, buying your excuse, “It needed to be said.”

You reached a hand across the counter to lovingly pat his own, “Thank you.”

He smiled, exhaling, “I promise my speech will be better at your wedding.” He grinned cheekily, clearly getting a jab in at Elias where he could, and you simply rolled your eyes, unable to help breathing a laugh at him.

Brock’s eyes flickered back to the couch, before settling on you, your cheeks a little pinker at his insinuation. You didn’t correct him, there wouldn’t be much of a point – marriage had been talked about so often between you and Elias that the nerves surrounding the entire thing were little to none. You had plans, and Brock was aware of those plans. It still didn’t stop him teasing the both of you every now and then.

Yet, because you and Elias had talked about it, it also meant you were privy to some information that Brock wasn’t – not that he knew any better when it came to your word.

“What makes you think you’re going to be the best man?” You asked, raising an eyebrow in his direction.

He blinked, before tilting his head, “I’m not?”

He was. Maybe.

You shrugged coyly, enjoying the furrow in his brow and his stuttering, “Well, who is if not me?” His voice was shrill with disbelief, perhaps verging on being a little bit panicky – as though he hadn’t ever thought of the possibility of not being the best man, and you felt a stab of guilt at his sudden change in demeanour, “Is it Quinn?”

And because he looked so heartbroken at the possibility, you couldn’t not tell him a partial truth; the only thing stopping you was the tiny likelihood of Elias changing his mind, “I don’t know, we haven’t actually talked about that.” Was what you settled for.

He nodded, relaxing almost immediately. It was difficult to miss the way his gaze darted to the empty space on your left ring finger, brows twitching.

You leant across the counter, mindful to lower your voice so Elias couldn’t overhear, “Do you know something I don’t?” You whispered, eyes wide. You could feel your pulse pounding in your ears when he shrugged, trying not to smile at you.

“I love what you’ve done with the place.” He said loudly, pointedly looking everywhere but at you, which did nothing but tell you more than his avoidance on the matter did.

You said nothing, but delighted in the new slip of information, unable to help laughing at the blonde in front of you, “You know we haven’t redecorated since we moved in.”

Brock smiled, “How long ago was that, again? Two years?”

“Three.”

“Ah.” His smile didn’t waver, though there was an added layer of mischief, one which had you squinting curiously in his direction.

He was hinting at something, that much was for certain.

“Right.” He sighed, sticking his hands in his pockets and shrugging, fully aware of the seed he’d just planted in your mind, “I best get going. Coolie and Milo can only be away from me for so long until they get separation anxiety, so…It was nice to see you.” He trailed off, making his way to the door, you not too far behind.

He stopped in the doorway, the wall shielding him from any blonde Swede potentially watching from his seat, and turned to you with a gentle, genuine smile on his face, “He’s not asleep, is he?”

You shook your head, “No.”

“Give Petey my love.” Brock said, once more loud enough for Petey to have heard him, and he wasted no time in wrapping you up in a brief hug.

“Thanks for what you said, it means a lot.” You mumbled, “Love you too, y’know?”

He pulled away, “Yeah, I know.”

“I’ll see you next week?” You asked hopefully, Brock opening the door and stepping out into the hallway, hands tucked securely in his pockets as he nodded.

“See you.”

As soon as you shut the door, you found yourself making your way back to the couch with some urgency, only to falter at the sight of Tuesday draped across Elias’s torso, her nose tucked into his shoulder as he hugged her to him. His eyes were open, and there was a rueful smile on his face that remained, even when you sat on the edge of the coffee table and folded your arms, attempting to look a little annoyed.

“So…” You started, tilting your head.

“So…” He echoed, pursing his lips in an effort not to laugh.

“We have really good friends.” 

He just nodded, one hand absent-mindedly rubbing across Tuesday’s back.

“Almost too good, I mean, you could argue Brock’s loyalty lies more towards me than you.” You looked away from him pointedly, disappointed that the coffee table was too low for you to start swinging your legs, and when you looked at him out of the corner of your eye, he’d perked up a little.

There was a small crease between his brows, and the sheepish smile on his lips had vanished, his suspicion piqued at your words.

“What did he say?”

“Well,” you shrugged sarcastically, “you’d know if you didn’t choose to ignore him at the door.”

He groaned, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, “In my defence, Quinn sent me a text telling me if I saw Brock and he came in asking for you, to make myself scarce. I’d have said something if he hadn’t initially asked if I was there.” He sighed, turning to you, “Now, what did he say?”

“Nothing I didn’t already know.”

***

You were pacing, hand against your chest in a futile attempt to calm your racing heart and the crush of dread coursing through your veins. You’d ended up in this situation a little too often lately for comfort: on the verge of a panic attack at the mere thought of your job. It certainly wasn’t a good sign. Not only that but it was terribly inconvenient, too.

You were at some gala Elias had been invited to along with a few other teammates, and all it had taken was for a well-meaning, polite ‘so, what do you do?’ from a kind stranger for everything to come crashing down. You’d answered easily, trying to ignore the way the world seemed to fall away at the time, but almost as soon as you’d answered, you’d excused yourself and shut yourself in one of the farthest rooms from where the event was taking place.

This was the fourth time these mini-panic attacks had happened – though, three out of four times you’d managed to calm yourself down to a sensible enough composure and prevent it from ever reaching the ‘panic or heart attack?’ stage that you’d dealt with the first time.

Elias didn’t know about them. No one knew – but this time you just knew you were going to have to come clean because the truth of the matter was that you were having a hard time, and Elias knew you were, but you didn’t talk about it, and you knew he was worried for you. You’d caught him looking at you differently lately, and if you were being honest, the longer you left it before you told him, the worse it’d get, and that wouldn’t be good for anyone – least of all you.

Your chest was aching, and even despite your hand massaging the tenderness, it did little to ease the pain.

The door creaked open slowly, and you stopped pacing, still continuing to inhale and exhale steadily as you watched it carefully, anticipating someone to clearly stick their head through the door–

“Thank fuck, what are you doing here?” You seemed to recognise his voice before your brain could comprehend his blonde buzzcut and piercing eyes, and the anxiety bubbling away under your skin seemed to react accordingly, prickling a little as the heaviness momentarily spiked.

He’d never seen you like this: every time you’d had these little episodes he hadn’t even been in the house, or you were hiding in a closet in the school away from everyone, and for a second you were scared of what he’d think of you. 

Only, when he stepped further into the room and shut the door behind him, all that self-consciousness seemed to melt away when he immediately clocked onto the way your hand was rubbing insistently at your chest. You couldn't even imagine what your face looked like, but you knew your eyes would be rimmed red (you absolutely refused to cry because you’d spent a long time getting ready for this, and ruining your makeup at this point would only make things worse), and that alone was enough for him to say something.

You frowned, not hearing anything but the rushing of blood in your ears, and then you were worried for him. He was looking at you, and you couldn’t remember if he’d ever looked at you with such concern before. If he had, you were almost certain you’d never seen it, but if he hadn’t, that meant that he knew something was very, very wrong.

Sometimes you really didn’t know why you underestimated his ability to read you and to know you as well as he did, because it was beginning to get to the point where he could read you more often than he couldn’t, and you were exhausting any possible methods of trying to hide things from him, because, as usual, he’d begin to see through those behaviours too.

“Huh?” You asked, a little breathlessly.

He hesitated, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as though he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself, “What’s wrong?” He repeated, looking so utterly serious that you suddenly had the urge to laugh.

You didn’t, though. In fact, your face barely moved from what it looked like, and you were too overwhelmed to even think about wondering what it looked like, because your heart was racing and panic still had an iron grip on your heart, and you were sure you were rubbing the skin on your chest red with the heel of your hand, but if you stopped, you had the bizarre notion that things would only worsen.

“I…” You started, swallowing and inhaling sharply. It was difficult to look him in the eyes and say what you wanted to say, what you’d planned to say, and even though you could just tell he had a million questions on the tip of his tongue, he was going to great lengths to keep them at bay for your sake, and you loved him even more for it in that moment.

His eyes drifted to your hand, and you looked away – there was a painting on the wall and if you focused on that…You didn’t even know, but it felt right to focus on that.

“Can I touch you?” He asked softly, and you nodded, inhaling through your nose and exhaling through your mouth, eyes fixated on the painting.

It looked like it could be a replica Monet.

He seemed to breathe a quiet sigh of relief, and before you had time to think about it, his cold hands came to close around yours, and you stopped rubbing your chest, a shaky exhale passing your lips. You had no idea if he could feel your heart hammering wildly, and if he could he made no move to show it.

His cold hands felt nice against your burning skin. Some of the pain alleviated a little, and the tightness eased – not completely, it was still there – but the cold touch was heavenly. Against your own will, you felt your eyes flutter shut.

“This isn’t the first time this has happened, is it?” He whispered, and you shook your head, concentrating on your breathing. Calming an erratic heart rate was hard when it mattered, though it was undoubtedly easier with someone else to distract you a little bit.

He didn’t say anything in reply, but his hands squeezed yours and this time you felt it within yourself to manage words.

“How’d you know that?” You whispered, peeling your eyes open slowly. 

His lips twitched upwards a little bit after you looked at him, a small triumph in the grand scheme of things, but you couldn’t quite reciprocate it just yet. Though, when you asked the question, it seemed to flicker and he fell back into that concerned stare, the smile melting completely off his face, “You were already doing breathing techniques.”

You nodded.

“This room’s cute.” He mumbled, turning his head.

It was the first time you’d noticed it, actually. There were windows on your left, and you could see the view from the building: the event wasn’t that high up, but from where you were standing the building directly opposite the street was much smaller, meaning you could see for a couple of blocks around. The sun was beginning to set, and the orange light was reflecting off the glass, and you knew if it had been under any other circumstance, you’d have thought this room to be a little romantic. The paintings certainly helped, but the wooden shelves seemed to ruin the whole mood. 

Still, you agreed with him. Partly because it did help to take your mind off everything, and partly because you knew the engagement would help him too. It was a win-win.

“I think that painting’s a Monet one.” You muttered, using your free hand to point over his shoulder. He kept his own securely wrapped around the one pressed to your chest, and turned to look.

“Looks like it.” He paused, before turning to look at it again, “It’d look good in our living room, don’t you think?”

You pulled a face, “Nah, it’ll clash with the walls.”

“And for that reason, it’d be a solid pick for Brock’s taste.”

This time you laughed – it felt a bit pathetic, but the endorphins helped ease the tension everywhere, and with a bout of relief, the tightness seemed to fade further, and your heart rate decreased, and you found you could actually hear the event down the hall; you could smell the woody scent of the room, and how it must have grown stronger in the warmth, and you could smell Elias’s aftershave. 

The latter felt like a soft nudge in the ribs, one of nostalgia, like your brain saying ‘hey, we know that smell, it means good things’, and with that your shoulders relaxed.

“Sorry.” You said, your head still a little fuzzy.

“Don’t apologise–”

“I should have told you.”

He shook his head, but didn’t say anything. If he was being honest, he didn’t know what to say in this kind of situation.

“It’s work.” You continued, taking another deep breath; the hand on your chest flexed, and Elias took the hint, unravelling his hands, only for you to still grab ahold of one. You needed it, especially if you were about to talk about the very thing that sent you into this panic in the first place, “The new head of department is…He’s really unhelpful, not approachable, and a fucking dick, like…” you breathed a bitter laugh, beginning to feel your eyes water, “He’s changed the entire department’s structure, doubled the amount of practicals and added new stuff and I’ve been trying to plan new lessons in the middle of the lessons because I’m not allowed to work overtime and get it done then, which is why I’ve been doing it at home. And half the department’s off with stress already, so I’ve been teaching food, too, on top of textiles, and…” You took a breath, realising Elias already knew half of what you were saying, but he was still listening as intently as he would have done the first time you’d said it, “He’s friends with the Principal, too, so even if I wanted to complain about him it wouldn’t get very far.”

He inhaled sharply, “He’s friends with the Principal?” 

“Unfortunately, yeah.”

“Fucking hell.” He groaned like someone had just shot down the only idea in his arsenal for this conversation, “I knew it was bad, but I didn’t know it was that bad.”

“Um…I had a plan, like what I was going to tell you, but I can’t remember that now because I obviously wasn’t expecting this to happen now.” You laughed a little, even despite yourself, but it lacked energy, and it was strangely empty. 

Elias tilted his head, brows knitting together, and he sighed sadly, his thumb tracing across the back of your hand. And because you knew him, you knew that keeping this huge thing from him hurt him. He didn’t show it outwardly, though, not intentionally, “You know you don’t need a plan with me, right?” 

You felt your chin wobble – completely out of your control, “Ye–You’re gonna make me cry, and I spent hours on–”

“-Your makeup, yeah. Come here.” He used your interlocked hands as leverage to pull you into him, your chin resting on his shoulder thanks to your heels, and you sniffed, once more turning to focus on the painting behind him, trying to ward off possible tears.

“I’m gonna book a Doctor’s appointment and get a sick note, I don’t know how long for, and I’m gonna take some time off to figure it out, y’know, maybe it’ll be okay if I move schools, or–or maybe I don’t want to be a teacher anymore, I don’t know.” You trailed off, squeezing your eyes shut.

Teaching had been a large chunk of your career, and you knew it was a big bomb to drop in probably not the best moment: his team were outside, as were important donors and sponsors, and here you were, shut in a room together, because maybe the degree you went to college for wasn’t actually something you were meant to do, and everyone around you had these big plans, ambitions for their futures, and you didn’t. You hated your job, now. Most mornings you’d get up and have to fight with yourself to just get ready for school, and the more you thought about it, the more you knew you should have told him sooner.

“That’s okay, y’know? It’s okay.” Was all he said, his arms wrapped securely across your shoulders, “It’s okay if you don’t want to go back into teaching, too.”

You almost started crying then and there, but you held off, “I don’t know what I’d do, though.”

He shrugged, “You don’t have to do anything.”

There was a thinly veiled insinuation there, one that he’d made before, mostly as a reassuring joke, but to say it in this moment, to say it now, you knew he wasn’t joking anymore. Maybe he hadn’t ever been joking.

“I think I’d go crazy if I didn’t do anything.” 

He huffed a laugh, “We don’t have to think about that yet, though.”

“I should’ve told you.” He’d have helped make you feel better, perhaps take some of the weight off your shoulders.

“You told me now. There’s no point dwelling.”

“I can feel a ‘but’ coming…”

“Not a ‘but’, but…” you both huffed a laugh, “Part of my job, not as a hockey player, but as your boyfriend is to help you with this kind of thing. We share the load, right?” 

“Yeah.”

You stood like that for a while, until your breathing and heart calmed, until the pain in your chest subsided, and until it looked like you weren’t about to start crying.

“Do you want to go home?” Elias mumbled into your hair, ever patient.

“Not yet. We should stay for a bit longer.”

He hummed, the vibration ticking the skin on your forehead, “You wanna stay here for a bit longer or go back in?”

“Stay here. Five minutes.”

***

Elias was a little nervous at exactly what would happen when Quinn would come down the steps with his brand new baby girl in his arms, but admittedly not for the reasons anyone would expect. He’d held newborn babies before, Quinn wasn’t the first teammate to have a child and he certainly won’t be the last – no, Elias wasn’t worried about that.

His apprehension stemmed from something inside his own mind, a paranoia of sorts. You guys had been together for six years and married for two, and so he knew the expectations of the natural order to follow after that much time together. It was only typical for people to assume that kids were the next thing: his own parents were bad enough, asking when they were going to get a grandbaby on their hands, and if he was being honest, Elias felt like everyone was looking at him for it.

Which was illogical, because not only was no one looking at him; he knew the teasing was utterly and completely harmless…only, the more he got chirped for it, the more he seemed to doubt his own thoughts.

He was thirty now. You guys had talked about having kids in your future, they were on the cards, but he didn’t want them yet. He guessed he was lucky in the fact that you didn’t either, but he was afraid that baby Lily Hughes, with her little fists and chubby legs, would change his mind.

And a change of mind was the last thing Elias wanted. If he was being completely honest, he wouldn’t mind having kids right now – he was broody, he was starting to pay more attention to names and clothes, and he felt a pang of something in his chest when he’d see his teammates with their kids at the family skate sessions. Yet, the one thing holding him back the most was his career.

When he eventually has kids of his own, he doesn’t want to leave both you and your child at home for weeks on end whilst he was off skating fuck knows where. He didn’t think he could do that; it was already hard leaving you alone, but there was something so utterly heart-wrenching about the thought of adding a child into that mix.

He’d be a fucking mess. The guilt? The loneliness? He’d miss his family too much.

But, there was a little voice in the back of his mind, known as Kris Letang – or rather, words that he’d spoken and Elias had read once upon a time – telling him that maybe it wouldn’t be all that bad if he had a child that grew up understanding and appreciating what it was he did. 

The idea of taking a mini-you and mini-him to those family skating sessions sounded like an absolute dream. As did having a little one behind the boards at his games, and a plethora of other things, too.

And to top it all off, he was standing in his best friend’s living room, staring at the cards and flowers in the window, you upstairs and out of sight at Kat’s bedside, and everything he’d tried to bottle was coming to the surface and he essentially had absolutely nothing to stop it.

Except–

“Hey,” Quinn pushed open the door, Elias’s attention snapping to the bundle of blankets in his arms, “Lily, meet your Uncle Petey.” Quinn cooed, face alight with utter joy as he positioned the baby girl in his arms for Elias to peer down–

Oh.

Oh.

Elias swallowed, something in chest melting at the brown eyes blinking wearily up at him and little fists struggling in the air. 

She’s gorgeous.

“I know, right?” Quinn breathed, watching Petey’s reaction with glistening eyes.

Had he said that out loud? 

He had no time to dwell on it before Quinn was talking again, “You wanna hold her?”

He felt himself nodding before he even thought about speaking, and Quinn carefully, slowly, gently lifted Lily into Elias’s waiting arms, adjusting his arms to support her head. Elias blinked, registering the warmth seeping into his arms from the blankets, the weight in his arms almost too light to be an entire human being – she was so tiny.

She wasn’t that much bigger than his entire hand.

He traced a finger so gently across her cheek, unable to really realise that Quinn was laughing at him as he wandered into the kitchen to get a start on making some coffees. 

In fact, Elias couldn’t really look away until he heard your footsteps coming down the stairs. Only then was he able to realise that he hadn’t even moved from his spot when Quinn had handed him Lily initially. Though, when he took a quick glance down at her, her eyes were shut, mouth open a little as she slept, and he seemed to fall even deeper down the rabbit hole of what-the-fuck-I-might-want-a-baby.

That was how you found him when you finally entered the living room: standing as still as humanly possible by the window, his gaze locked firmly on the bundle in his arms and something in his entire demeanour that had you sharing a rather bewildered glance with Quinn, who was blinking tiredly from where he’d sat down on the couch.

Despite Petey’s clear hesitancy to move in fear of waking her up, he looked strangely natural holding Lily with such care and adoration. You didn’t say anything or approach him, but you did take a seat next to Quinn.

“You did good.” You whispered, a smile on your face, “She’s gorgeous.”

He grinned, “I know.”

“Is anyone else coming today or are we your last visitors?”

His eyes zipped to the clock on the mantelpiece, “You guys are the last ones for today. We’ve got the grandparents tomorrow.”

“Grandparents.” Then, after a brief pause, “It feels so surreal that you’re a Dad now. A good surreal, but…”

“Weird?” He offered, and you nodded, “You know what’s next?”

You hummed, feeling his foot nudge your leg playfully, “What?”

“Baby Peteys.” 

You rolled your eyes, “We’ll see.”

You nodded your head in the direction of Elias, who still had his back to you, and Quinn smiled in understanding, letting you go. 

“Hi.” You mumbled into Elias’s shoulder, resting your cheek against him and looking at baby Lily asleep.

“Hi,” he greeted back, and you could feel the heat of his eyes on the side of your face as you stroked her cheek, your nose scrunching up in a managed reaction to her cuteness when she stirred. Gosh, she was too cute. Elias must have been thinking the same thing, because just as you thought those words, he was talking, “She’s so cute.”

You breathed a quiet laugh, “Of course she’s cute, look at her parents.”

“Quinn isn’t cute.” He teased, throwing his head back and winking at his friend with humour, before turning back to you, “Baby cuddles?”

You shook your head, “I had baby cuddles upstairs.” You rubbed his arm, “I think we need to go–”

“Already? We just got here.” Elias protested, pulling his mouth downwards much to your amusement.

“I know, but they’re tired. It’s only been four days, they need some time to themselves without having to wait on other people.”

It didn’t come as much of a shock when the first thing he said after shutting the door behind him was “I think we should talk when we get back”.

***

You hope the blonde stays forever, and with Elias’s Swedish genes and being very blonde himself, you had a feeling that was going to be the case, because Hanna’s almost white hair peeking out from under her pink bucket hat, still a little damp from the seawater, was just too adorable to cope with.

She was every bit Elias’s twin, and it was so hilariously obvious when they were sitting side by side, Hanna in her high chair and Elias with one arm draped over the back of it, conversing with her unintelligible baby babble with a sweet grin on his face only ever reserved for her. She had his deep blue eyes and an adorably infectious giggle, even as he playfully swiped suncream across her face.

“It’s such a lovely day–”

“Sea!” Hanna yelped, a chubby arm almost smacking Elias in the face as she pointed to the blue sparkling water over the decking of the restaurant, the word startling both you and Elias into a dumbfounded silence.

You swallowed, sharing a look with him, and a smile broke onto your face at the way he seemed so utterly speechless; his mouth was parted slightly, and his eyes were wide and before he could regain his senses, you leant across the table, successfully garnering Hanna’s attention from where her arm was still outstretched and her eyes were fixed on Elias.

“Baby, can you say that again for us?” You asked, heart melting when she blinked and reached to grab a small chunk of cut up apple from her bowl.

Elias seemed to snap out of his shock because he pointed to the water over his shoulder, “Sea.”

Hanna stuffed the piece of apple into her mouth, head swivelling back and forth between you and Elias with an adorable blend of confusion and curiosity, seemingly refusing to say anything else after a heavy pause filled with a kind of excited anticipation, the both of you wanting nothing more than for her to repeat what she just said.

You’d had these heart-stopping moments on a few occasions now, where Hanna would say something that sounded like a word and point to something that could be related to what she’d said, but she’d yet to repeat it. 

Technically, her first word was ‘woof’, though arguably it wasn’t really much of a word, but she had been pointing to a dog at the time, which kind of made you think that she had some level of understanding about what was being said around her, but…it could be a fluke.

Elias groaned jokingly, ducking his head down only to be attacked by a little palm patting the top of his cap, before looking back up at you, a slightly bewildered look on his face. 

It was nice to see him unwind after the chaos of the end of the Canucks’ season; Stanley Cup winners the year before meant that the expectation of possibly winning again this year was pretty high, mostly for Quinn (as much as he tried to deny it), but you could also tell it had taken its toll on Elias, too. It was mainly the questions from reporters repeatedly asking them what they were gonna do to help maintain their win streaks, and answering the same questions paired with unsolicited criticism from fans and almost every other person in the conference rooms that was so exhausting.

They hadn’t won this year, much to everyone’s dismay, but they’d held on until the seventh game of the third round of the play-offs.

Needless to say, a break to Sweden to see his family was definitely a good choice if the constant grinning was anything to go by. 

“What is it?” Elias asked, a knowing glint in his eye as he adjusted the hat on Hanna’s head.

You hadn’t even realised you’d been staring, but there wasn’t a single part of you that felt embarrassed by having been caught in the act: you’d known each other for so long now that things like getting caught admiring each other was an honest blessing. He knew why you were staring, you knew why you were staring; it was hard not to stare most of the time when Elias always looked so good, but there was something about the way he seemed to radiate pure joy when he was around Hanna (and you – but that went without saying) that always seemed to captivate your whole attention.

Moments like that were worth the difficult goodbyes and the time apart and the rough nights.

You just shook your head, resting your cheek on your fist, “Nothing.”

There was an unreadable expression on his face, but the slight squint of his eyes told you everything you needed to know, before you were sighing, eyes zipping to Hanna, because whilst you weren’t bothered about getting caught staring, it didn’t mean you don’t still get nervous when he divided his entire attention to you, “You look really happy right now.” Was what you settled for.

He softened, a smile melting onto his face as he moved one of his hands to the middle of the table to take yours so he could place a delicate kiss on the inside of your wrist, “I am.”

[roonyxx]

Healing Love: Part 2

Summary: You have a normal life as a nurse, and you are content with it. But then a storm called Dean Winchester rolls into it and you get swept away by his charms. But secrets linger and threaten to drown you both.

Pairing: Dean x Witch!nurse!reader

Word count: 2455

Chapter warnings: angst, wounds and medical stuff (i am no professional and have no idea what the real treatments are), fluff.

support me :)

Healing Love Masterlist

My Masterlist

Deviders made by @firefly-graphics, give her some love!

The day at work seemed to last forever but eventually your shift ended and you hurried home, you jumped in the shower to shave, scrub, wax, all of it.

By the time you fed Quinn and are all dressed up it is seven.

You check your phone, no news. Which is not abnormal, he might be driving.

You sit on your porch while waiting for Dean to show up.

Seven thirty rolls around and no news.

You dare to send him a little text.

“Hey, it was seven at my place, right?” you send to him.

No answer. It’s not even read.

Quinn can feel your sadness at being stood up and lays his furry head on your lap.

“Perhaps he’s just late.” You tell him while stroking his ears.

Or he stood you up…

Around eight you go back inside and take off your heels. You really thought he liked yesterday’s kiss…

Was it a bad kiss? To you it was the best kiss ever. But maybe not to him? Is that why he ghosted you?

A smile blooms on your face when you hear your phone ringing, but as soon as it came it fades at the unfamiliar number.

“Damn spammers.” You mutter while hanging up.

Was it a little high hopes on your side that Dean wanted to go out on a date with you? Maybe… he is extremely beautiful. But he was the one who suggested it. It made no sense.

The number pops up on your screen again and you grunt while you hang up. Only for the number to pop up again.

“Jeez this one is motivated.” You sigh.

You stare at the number, maybe it’s work?

Not like you have plans for tonight anyway. You pick up.

“Hello?”

“Is this Y/N?” A strange voice asks you, but there is something similar about it.

“Yeah? Who is asking?” You frown.

“My name is Sam, I’m Dean’s brother, we need your help.” He sounds in a hurry, or worried even.

“My help?” That couldn’t be good…”Where is Dean?”

“He got hurt, badly… I know you don’t know me but- but he needs you. I will send you coordinates, could you come to us?”

“If he’s hurt badly he needs to go to a hospital.” You say, hurt again? Yesterday the cut, today this…

What are they involved in?

“That’s not an option, please Y/n, I- I don’t think he will get through the night without you.” He sounds so desperate.

Rubbing your face you grab your big bag for emergencies. “Send me the address, I will come.”

“Thank you” he sighs with relief “I sent the text, you text me when you’re here. Hurry please, Y/n.” And then he hangs up.

Walking with your big bag to your car you check the coordinates.

Who uses coordinates? You put them in your gps and see it’s just on the edge of town. You speed down the roads to get there within thirty minutes.

You get out of your car and frown, there is nothing but an old factory and woods here.

You send your text to Sam, telling him you’re here.

The big metal door of the factory opens with a loud creak.

“Y/n! Hurry, he’s in here.” Sam says from the opening.

You hurry down the little steps and follow Sam inside and look over the railing with wide eyes.

This isn’t an old factory…

The magic inside you immediately reacts to the sigils that are hidden in the walls. This whole building is magical, powerful. Your magic eases against the sigils with a soft hand, reassuring them you are not a threat. Once they are soothed they stop oppressing you like an intruder.

Inside is a very big room with many lights and machines you don’t understand. A big world map table lighting up in the middle.

And on that table is an unconscious Dean, bleeding heavily from his stomach and his face is covered in blood from a cut you can’t see.

“Oh god…” You run down the few stairs and get to the table.

“What happened!” You scream at Sam while you get to work.

Ripping open your bag you get out your stethoscope and listen for his heartbeat. It’s there but weak…

Bloodpressure is too low, he lost a lot of blood…

“What is his blood type?” You ask while cutting open his shirt.

His stomach… It’s shredded, this needs a surgeon, not a nurse.

“His b-bloodtype uhm” I can see Sam shaking in the corner of my eye, “we’re both O.” He eventually says.

“Sam…”

“I can’t explain what happened, he got c-cut open. Please… do something.”

“I’m not a surgeon.” You pant, the panic and magic rising within you.

He needs my magic but…

But the way he gets hurt every day, no hospital, the magic of this place...

Your eyes water while looking at his unconscious face, of course he has to be a damn hunter…

Hunters murdered your friend ten years ago. You swore to her to never get near a hunter again, it was the last thing she asked of you.

You have plenty of catheters and bags to make a blood transfusion. It’s not at all like the protocol in the hospital but it will have to do.

You can’t let him die.

“Sam, you need to get me some tape, water, a bowl, a lighter, and all the bandages you have. Go now.”

Sam nods and runs out of the room.

Giving you the chance to be alone with Dean.

You put on your gloves and start cleaning his stomach as much as possible to see the damage.

Definitely werewolf claws…

You grunt, “I can’t stitch this much shredded skin…”

You look over your shoulder to make sure Sam isn’t here and take off your gloves to start rubbing your hands together.

They heat up and start glowing with a golden light, you make your hands hover over his wound.

It is impossible to heal it all, your magic untrained and rarely used. But you will do what is possible.

You know that with training you would be able to heal a lot of things, but using it is very dangerous and it drains you. A lot.

You focus on healing the cells of his intestines, healing every precious organ that is inside, then you focus on the peritoneum, the bag that seals the intestines.

Sweat is forming on your brow and you wipe it away with your sleeve to prevent it from falling inside his wound.

Dizziness is creeping in and you push your magic to knit his stomach muscles back together and heal the edges of his wound, you can stitch them when they are less shredded.

You are panting heavily by the time your magic runs out. But you check his wound and are satisfied to see his muscles are perfectly closed.

You thread your needle, black spots are creeping into your vision but you push through.

Sam comes running in with everything you asked for.

“Tell me what to do.” He says.

“Check his head, find the cut and tell me if it’s deep, clean up as much as you can.”

He nods and does exactly that while you stitch his layers of skin back together.

“It’s not deep but bleeding hard, it’s just on the edge of his hairline.”

“Keep pressure on it and use butterfly bandage to put it back together. It should hold.”

I finish with my stitches and put a big bandage over his stomach, then wrapping a compression bandage around his entire waist to keep it all in place.

You move next to Sam to check Dean’s head, it is indeed not very deep and what Sam did will be sufficient.

You go to Dean’s arm and put in a catheter, you give him some antibiotics to fight of any bacteria that got in his open wound and a shit ton of pain killers, then you move to Sam.

“Sam, sit, he needs blood.”

You grab his arm and start drawing blood to make a transfusion.

After Sam donated the maximum he can, you make shift a pole to hook the blood bag so it can slowly enter Dean.

“You’re both very lucky to have O.” You sigh, exhaustion is starting to claim you but Dean can’t stay on the table, he needs to be comfy. You give Sam just a little time and hand him a cookie to get his sugars up.

“Can you carry him?” You ask Sam.

He nods “I can. W-will he be okay?”

“He can’t stay on the table. I don’t know yet, I gave him a lot of pain meds, he should wake up in a few hours, or his heart can stop from the trauma.” I say as my eyes stay on his chest, that’s slowly moving up with each breath he takes.

Alive. He’s alive.

Sam carefully picks Dean up. You stay close, making sure the blood bag stays above Dean’s head.

Sam walks him through the enormous building and reaches what you presume is Dean’s bedroom and puts him in the bed.

You arrange his pillow and cover him so he doesn’t get cold, then grab a chair and sit next to his bed.

You take off your smart watch, turn on the sound and wrap it around Dean’s wrist, a faint beeping noise sounding that follows the rhythm of his heart.

“Get some rest Sam, I will be here, if his heart stops, my watch will make an alarm noise, I will stay here, making sure he’s okay.”

“I want to stay here.” He argues.

“I can’t have you in the room when he crashes, which is a chance. Go to bed, try to rest. You will need your strength when he wakes up.”

If he wakes up…

Sam gives a little nod and reluctantly leaves.

You slump in the chair and watch Dean breathe. The exhaustion will claim you soon, so you learn forward and touch his chest, putting your very last magic into his heart. The weak rhythm of his heart starts to pick up,  with your magic it became stronger.

With the reassurement that he won’t die, you stop fighting the exhaustion and pass out.

“Y/n?” you hear your name being faintly said, but your eyes won’t open just yet. Your body feels as if it is submerged in deep dark waters, every movement feels heavy and hard.

“Y/n?” your name is repeated, and you can feel yourself rising up to the surface of consciousness.

Your eyes peel themselves open and made contact with two spring forest green eyes.

Dean.

Dean!

Your eyes jump open and you reach his side.

“You’re awake.” You gasp, you check the watch around his wrist and see three hours have passed, his heartbeat and blood pressure are not perfect yet but they are good enough.

“How do you feel?” You ask him while taking off the now empty blood bag from his catheter.

“Not great.” He winces with a small smile, “But seeing you definitely helps.”

He still looks very pale.

“Pain?” You ask him while getting some more painkiller in a needle and putting it in his catheter.

He nods.

“This will help.”

He carefully lifts the covers to see his stomach, all wrapped up. “The last time I looked here I saw inside myself… I thought-“ he swallows hard and looks at you, “I missed our date.”

You can’t help but chuckle, “You almost died and you’re thinking about our date?”

“I was looking forward to it.” He defends.

“Me too.” You softly whisper.

“This isn’t what I had in mind as a date.” He lowers the cover again, “How did you get here?”

“Sam called me urgently, saying he needed my help and let me in. Good he did, I managed to help you, the next weeks will be hard, Dean. We will see each other a lot more. You talked about me to Sam?”

The smile he gives you is far from weak, “To see you a lot more doesn’t sound bad at all. I did… I was excited to tell him about you.”

You give him a smile back, blushing at how he wanted to tell his brother about you.

How you ever doubted for a second to not use your magic to heal him.

You would risk it all just to see him smile.

“What was your idea of a date?” You ask him to keep his mind, and perhaps your own, off how close he came to dying.

“Something cheesy, like a picknick in a field with a pretty sunset. Dropping you back at your place after we had a great time and then, then I would kiss you again.” He says.

You smile, “So you’re a romantic guy, huh?”

“Very.” He grins and tries to lean towards you, only resulting in him hissing.

“Careful!” You say and help him adjust his position by putting your arms around his naked shoulders and tugging gently on his pillow.

“That’s the second time you ripped of my clothes, you know if you want to see me naked sweetheart, all you have to do is ask.”

“You’re such a flirt.” You smile at him and realize how close your faces are together, you glance down at his lips.

“I regret not kissing you tonight.” He whispers against your lips.

“Tonight isn’t over yet.” You whisper back.

He smiles and closes the gap between you two. Kissing you deeply.

You carefully cup his face, kissing him back.

He moans when your tongue brushes against the seam of his lips, asking for entrance, which he grants.

His hand comes up to brush your cheek. He tilts his head to the side and deepens the kiss, more moans spilling out from his mouth.

You’re panting against him, your hands slipping in his hair as you get lost in him.

A harsh hiss breaks you apart and you see that he tried to pull you closer, resulting in hurting himself. You slowly peel yourself away from Dean.

“You need to rest,” you pant, your lips swollen and wet from his kiss, “No excessive moving for you for at least two weeks.”

“The idea of taking a nurse on a date is much sexier than in real life.” He grunts as lays back down more comfortably, “No excessive moving, so no kissing?” he gives you the biggest puppy eyes, almost as cute as Quinn’s.

You blush and say “Only kissing is okay. Calm kissing.”

“I can survive with calm kissing,” he smiles then winks, “For now.”

You blush even harder and smile.

“Rest Dean, you need it. I will be here.”

Forever Tags 2024: @jay-and-dean @flamencodiva @snowlovespie @awkward-and-indecisive @hobby27

Dean tags 2024: @akshi8278 @pink-sparkly-witch @verytoadpapersoul @eevvvaa @muhahaha303 @alwaystiredandconfused @deansimpalababy @globetrotter28

Healing Love tags: @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @suckitands33 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @brightlilith @snowayumi

send me an ask if you want to be on any of my tag lists! (or if you want to be removed)

[yukinarinn]

Childhood bestfriends to lovers Ethan Landry x Reader?? (W smut) 🙏

Feel Something - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

contains: smut, soft!dom!Ethan, sub!reader, p in v, a bit of angst (?), both of you losing virginity

A/N: Hi, I don’t know how good this is and I don’t know why is mostly angst (it’s in fact just a little, but still) I wanted this to be kinky asf but instead I kinda trauma dumped, lmao. I hope it’s still okay tho!

You and your friends were at Sam and Tara’s place, including Ethan who was always either behind you or right next to you. You didn’t mind since you knew each other since childhood and are the closest and form the closest bond. So it’s safe to say this friend group is still new to you both. University just started a few weeks ago and you have a hard time getting used to New York and every new thing.

“So, any ideas of what we should do?” Mindy said as she playfully pinched Sam’s arm while Anika gave her a weird look but ignored it.

“We were thinking of watching a movie tonight, perhaps?” Samantha suggested and all of the looks were fixated on you and Ethan now. They knew he doesn’t really like movie nights and that you just can’t stand still for 2 hours straight.

“Thing is..” you began to speak, taking this a bit personal since you think they’re just messing around or something. “I didn’t want to be here today, but Ethan asked me to come and I couldn’t say no.” you eye-sideying him as you try to avoid eye contact.

“Yeah, me neither. Chad also invited me.” He cleared his throat as Chad just showed him the middle finger. Whispering a “What a bitch”.

It seems like these two get along very well, but in reality, it’s really not like that. They need to fake their friendship and how cool they are just because they’re roommates, which is bullshit. You could’ve been his roommate instead, but due to obvious reasons, it’s not allowed.

“Even so, we don’t have drinks nor popcorns or anything to eat.” Quinn remarked. “Shall one of us go to the supermarket, then.”

You stared at her confused, why going to a supermarket? it’s too far away right now and you don’t even know how long this will take. It’s supposed to be a movie night, not waiting for Chad or one of the girls to go buy shit.

“Supermarket? there’s literally the shop by the corner!” Ethan replied and you nodded, biting your lip as you look at him intensely while it seems like he isn’t aware of you doing it.

Quinn turned and came closer to him. “Listen here, bitch. You may be my brother but I’m doing you a favor right now, don’t be dumb and keep your mouth shut.” She replied back with a more arrogant tone.

Her look dropped on yours suddenly and you clear your throat. Her sister has always took the.. parental role for him since their mother is unknown even to this day. You couldn’t never really get along with her.

“And you too, y/n” Quinn smirked and turned to everyone. “We might not like the snacks one of us will buy, so why don’t we all just go and buy stuff individually?”

Oh, you get it now. It’s not that you would mind, but since when she knows about you having a thing for her brother? Either way, you thank her.

Everyone sighs and heads towards the door, finally. But not before Chad and Tara looked back at you, asking if you’re coming as well.

You shook your head and they raised their eyebrows, well, Tara. You could tell Chad had a slight smile printed on his face.

Once you heard the door closing and eventually locked from the outside. You both let out a loud sigh. You hated the living room so much for some reason, so you go upstairs towards Tara’s room with Ethan right behind you.

“Do they let you just walk around their house like that?” He chuckled and closed the door behind him.

You sat on the edge of the bed, looking around the bedroom. It was perfect for a date. Her tastes are indeed cool.

“Do I look like I care? Come sit beside me, why so nervous?” you asked. But you were kinda nervous as well, you did everything together, everything but not being this close to each other ‘till now.

Ethan nodded and sits next to you, but doesn’t hold eye contact at all. The tension was already here. You didn’t know why it felt so weird being like this.. it’s not the first time you were alone with him, or with a guy in general.

A few seconds pass and you were still not saying or doing anything. You bite your lip and turned to him, but he already was going to break the ice before you did.

“Y/n, I know we don’t talk much about this but I do care about you and I wish you never let any guy hurt you.”

The random words coming from his mouth made your heart race. You never liked talking about this topic and preferred not to talk about other men in front of him. You bite the skin of your lips and look down, scared that he would notice how vulnerable you actually can become if you talk about past relationships.

“I technically came here to have fun.. you know..” You whisper, leaning towards him, smelling his cologne. “I don’t think we should talk about everything I’ve been through with other men.”

He smiled and rubbed your cheek with his long fingers, this is one of the few times he has touched you like this. He never dared to even touch you by accident, but when he did, he would apologise. But to you, there was nothing to apologise for.

“I think we should, now that we’re alone. Talk with your best friend, y/n.” Ethan looked you up and down, slightly biting his bottom lip. You didn’t know why he’s trying to bring this subject up but you felt like talking to someone about your love life. “Vent to me.”

You nodded and sighed. “So what do you wanna know? you already know all of my exes.” You felt ashamed of saying it out loud, ashamed of yourself that you dated so many. But Ethan just stared at you, letting you continue but there’s nothing to continue about.

“I know how you feel right now and trust me, you shouldn’t think of yourself like this. You dated all of them because you felt empty without someone to take care of you, worship you.” He says those words in such a deep and gentle tone. It makes your heart melt and you involuntarily put your head on his shoulder.

“You know me so well,” you whispered. “Do you want some dating advice? is this why you’re so invested in this conversation?”

“No.” He chuckled but went back to a serious tone which only made you feel bad for ‘ruining’ the mood that is supposed to be serious. “You know I’ve never dated anyone and that I would screw things up in my first relationship anyway.” He scratched the back of his neck.

“You screwing up? look at me, I ruined my relationships because I couldn’t feel anything towards them. They left me with a bitter taste of what love truly is.” You start sobbing and squeezed Ethan’s hand. “Maybe I’m just unlovable and.. I can’t love someone, either.”

Ethan looked at you and put one of his fingers under your chin to lift your head up from his shoulder, making you look at him. Eyes filled with tears and your lips were puffy already. You gave in and now he knows how vulnerable you can be at times, another one who knows.

“Don’t cry, you’re not unlovable and you could love someone. You just have to meet the right guy.” He gently grabbed your shoulders, massaging them while you’re trying to break the eye contact.

You were staring at him like you’ve seen a ghost, and you got more surprised as soon as he wiped your tears away with his index finger, his finger slowly moving down to your lips.

“You’re not broken if that’s what you think,” He got extremely closer to you, his lips just a few inches away from yours. “Let yourself feel something with me.”

Before you could say anything, he pressed his lips against yours, your eyes widened. But it didn’t take much longer for you to slowly close them and kiss him back with your hands around him. Pushing your lips more against his.

He wrapped his hands around your waist, squeezing it as he pushes you onto the bed on your back while lips still locked together and he crawled on top of you, biting your lower lip to make you open your mouth and enter his tongue in, desperately searching for yours.

You moan into the kiss as soon as you feel his tongue on yours and his fingers playing with the waistband of your lace underwear. The fact that it was so easy to him to touch your private parts because of you wearing only a tight red dress, was turning him on even more.

He didn’t want to tease you much though, so his fingers found their way to your already wet cunt, massaging your clit slowly through your panties. Making you break the kiss immediately.

“E-Ethan-“ you moaned his name, which only made him get harder and you wetter by how he was stimulating you.

Ethan continues to play with your clit while you involuntarily squeeze your legs, which makes him laugh and use his other hand to spread them again.

"It's obvious you haven't been touched in this area much," he says amusedly as you roll your eyes, unable to form coherent sentences.

He bites his lips and moves your panties to the side, pressing his finger against your now exposed clit. You start gripping the sheets.

"I-It's too much!" You tilt your head back, and Ethan takes advantage, pressing his mouth against your sensitive neck, lightly biting the spot.

"Really? But I haven't even penetrated you yet!" He smiles and licks the now reddened bite mark.

You didn't expect your best friend to take control and do with you everything no other boy has done before. You feel your body burning with pleasure and desire. The feeling is unfamiliar, but you love it.

He takes his finger away from your clit and you moan in frustration, almost wanting to beg him to give you more. He smiles innocently and takes his shirt off, revealing his muscles and abs. You blush slightly at what you’re seeing. Definitely not expecting this.

But your gaze immediately drops when Ethan pulls his belt down along with his pants, throwing them somewhere on the floor. He's hard as a rock, and you have no idea if it will fit. You gulp when his boxers vanish along with his clothes. You see it, and it's big.

"What's wrong, princess? You should know you have to beg if you want it that bad." he teases. "By the way, are there any condoms around here?"

"Y-Yes," you stammer. "On Tara's nightstand. Chad and she are insatiable." You start laughing together.

He opens a pack of condoms and slowly rolls one onto himself, while you undress in front of him and lie back. Eagerly waiting for him to be on top of you again.

"Please..." You spread your legs.

"Please, what?" he chuckles as he teases your wet pussy with his tip.

"Fuck me!" You beg, and he grins, leaning in to passionately kiss you as he enters slowly, groaning while you start to whimper in pain as you feel him stretching you out.

He didn’t move, he’s letting you adjust to his size. Even though it’s confusing because you’re crying and your legs are shaking. He’s about to pull out but you stopped him.

“Are you… a virgin?” He asks you, confused of your look and the way you’re breathing. You nod slightly.

“Just like you.” You replied, a slight shake could be found in your voice. He rolled his eyes, almost annoyed at the fact that he didn’t know you still were.

“Why didn’t you tell me, baby? I could’ve made this more special to you, to both of us.” You groaned at the pet name and smiled, trying to forget the pain as if never existed.

“But this is special, Ethan. I’ve actually wanted you for so long.” You pulled him closer. “Move, I’m going to be fine.”

He nodded, still unsure of what to do and started thrusting it in and out of you, making you roll your eyes in pleasure and instinctively wrap your legs around him.

Ethan groans in your ear as he feels your hand running through his curly hair. You open your eyes wide when his finger quickly rubs your clit.

"Please, don't stop, keep going," you say, your eyes searching for his, and he whispers in your ear in a sensual manner.

"What a good girl," he praises, and your walls tighten around him, making him whimper and bite your neck without any gentleness. You put your hand over your mouth, tears of pleading in your eyes.

"Don't cover that pretty mouth of yours, let me hear you," he moves faster inside you. "I'm close," he whispers.

You moan loudly, struggling to respond. “Me too-" Ethan presses his lips on yours, taking your lower lip between his teeth which made you open your mouth, enough for him to slide his tongue in as he pounds in you faster. And with one final thrust, you cum all over his dick and he catches his own orgasm, releasing into the condom.

He slowly pulls out, sweat visibly on his forehead as he throws the used condom into the trash can next to Tara’s bed. You’ll make sure to throw it somewhere else before she sees it.

“That was amazing!” He tells you, laying on the bed visibly tired but proud that you’re finally his.

You turn to him and smile, searching for his hand. “I’ve wondered what it’s like to touch and feel something, but now I know.” you lean closer and peck his lips.

“Does it mean you’re giving me a chance?” He asked, you could see how the look on his face changed and how his eyes are basically sparkling.

You nodded. “Yes, but we have to put our clothes back on now, the bitches will get home soon.”

[oleksiak-pettersson]

Pick Me - Elias Pettersson

howdy hey everybody! It's been a hot minute... sorry not sorry.

this is the first part of a three part series i've been cooking up in my head for a few years now. I want to emphasize that this is set in a completely fictional world and is complete AU. The Canucks featured in this fic don't play hockey in the story. The timeline is also not accurate to real life.

warnings: angst, a certain celebrity featured as the villain, pregnancy, labour, swearing, this is an AU, only Quinn still plays hockey, almost cheating, emotional cheating in a way (will be expanded on more in the next parts)

word count: 4.5k

Pick Me | Choose Me | Love Me

There’s nothing better than the warmth of a comforter wrapped around your body. You pull it closer around your body, not caring if it leaves your lover without.

Your eyes blink open slowly, arms clutching the pregnancy pillow to your chest, comforter wrapped around the pillow and over your body.

As your eyes blink open, once, twice, a third time, you notice that at some point in your restful slumber, you’d stolen the comforter completely from your husband. Never one to complain, Elias must’ve grabbed the second duvet from the hall closet.

Your husband is lingering in the bathroom, you can hear the sink running as he goes about his morning routine.

He must notice you moving, as he approaches softly. He’s freshly showered and the smile on his face is soft and mellow in the morning light.

“Hi,” you murmur, taking in his beauty as it’s illuminated by the golden sun. His blue eyes twinkle with fondness as they take in your sleepy form.

You stretch a little, turning over to the side of the bed he sits on. His hand comes up and brushes a stray eyelash from your cheek. He holds it up to show you and let you make a wish, a simple gesture you taught him in your early stages of dating. There’s a kind of tenderness to his touch that no one else could quite possess.

“Hi.” Elias smiles back, hand falling from your face to hold yours. “How did you sleep?”

“So good, these two didn’t move a bit.” You prop yourself up against the headboard, free hand coming to rest on your belly.

“Probably too exhausted from kicking you all day yesterday,” Elias jokes, his smile causing his eyes to crinkle. He leans forward and presses his lips against yours. It’s a soft and sweet kiss. His mouth is minty fresh from brushing his teeth and it makes you smile.

He’s slow to pull away and you chase his mouth as he goes. He chuckles softly, hand caressing your cheek. 

“I’ve got to go meet Brock and Quinn soon for golf, I made you breakfast, it’s on the counter,” he announces, standing back up and stretching.

“What no in bed delivery? The service here sucks,” you lilt, the teasing evident in your voice. Ever the drama Queen, Elias rolls his eyes leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead.

“I’ll be back this afternoon, call or text if you need anything.” And with that he’s out the door.

You stretch as you get up, your back cracks and your belly feels heavier than normal. You feel like you’re resting lower than yesterday and there’s a weird feeling settling in your gut. You shake it off though, pulling on your lounging outfit. Your doctor had warned you about Braxton hicks contractions and you were sure that this feeling in your belly had to be that.

Your due date was fast approaching and you couldn’t wait. Pregnancy is hard enough but when you’re carrying twins it’s a whole other beast. You’re incredibly lucky to have such a kind partner who has taken such good care of you. Elias’ job as a content creator allows him to control his hours, unlike his good friend Quinn who captains the local Vancouver NHL team and whose schedule is rigid with intense travel.

It’s a slow waddle to the kitchen and you take it slow. One of your cats lounges in the middle of the hallway and you have to gently nudge her from your path with your foot. She mewls in uproar but does nothing to stop her movement. You have to lean against the wall in support to move her and your stomach twists once again. You take a breather against the wall, staring up at the popcorn ceiling.

Upon finally reaching the kitchen, you feel the need to sit down. The kitchen island chairs look incredibly unsupportive and the kitchen table has the worst chairs for relaxing. You let out a huff at the idea of having to move into the living room.

Your breakfast is still warm and you bring it into the living room to relax on the couch. The pain isn’t slowing down but instead seems to be moving up your back.

It’s just Braxton Hicks, you think. There’s no way I’m going into labour.

You find a comfortable position on the couch and rest your plate on your belly. Your feet come up to rest on the coffee table and you flick through the channels. 

The scrambled eggs and toast is just what you needed. The pain in your gut quells a little and you find the perfect spot on the couch to rest. There’s a throw blanket hanging on the back of the couch and you pull it over yourself.

Both cats follow your lead and curl up near you on the couch. You hold your hand out trying to call either into your lap, but neither take the bait. You sigh, moving slightly in an attempt to tuck the blanket under yourself but giving up quickly as you tire.

The curtains that cover the living room windows are wide open and the light from the mild spring day is bright but you can’t find it in yourself to get up. The simplest of actions, getting up and getting food, have exhausted you and your eyelids begin to feel heavy.

//

You wake up with a jolt of pain that causes your whole body to cease. The groan that leaves your mouth causes both cats to jump up from the couch and disappear down the hall.

The pain is intense and you briefly can’t move. It’s over as quick as it came on. You sit up on the couch trying to regulate your breathing. Your heart is racing as you throw the blanket off of your body and stand up. 

There’s no more denying it. You’re in labour. You need to find your phone and get a hold of your husband. It’s time.

The waddle down the hallway back to your bedroom feels like an eternity, you know there’s time before your next contraction will ripple through your body but you still feel a bit panicked. You twist your wedding ring around your finger as you go, trying anything to calm the fog of anxiety that’s beginning to descend around you.

Your phone is where you left it the night before, on the nightstand still plugged in to the charger. You’ve got a single notification, a text from Elias’ coworker Natasha Dion, inviting you out for brunch next week.

But there’s no time to respond to her. You need Elias. You perch yourself on the bed, legs holding you up as you focus on your phone.

You quickly unlock the phone, your face ID failing you - forcing a password attempt that you’re not too sure how you even managed to get the numbers correct. You close the instagram app sloppily, a leftover from last night's pre-bed scrolling session, and open your phone app.

Elias’ contact is the most recent number you’ve called and you waste no time clicking on it.

The phone dials up and the line begins to ring. You stifle a sob and try to take a deep breath as the line continues to ring. Your free hand cradles your belly. One of the twins moves beneath your hand, causing a little chuckle to leave your mouth.

“Mama will see you soon,” you murmur, the line continuing to ring in your ear.

Suddenly there’s a beep and Elias’ voice comes through. “Hey, you’ve reached Petey. Can’t get to the phone right now but leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”

“Shit,” you curse and then the beep sounds through. “Hi babe, it's me. Um, I think I’m in labour and I need you to get home uh, right away? Call me back please.”

You take another breath, trying to remember what they taught you in Lamaze class. You flick through your brain trying to recall the class you practised breathing. You can see the teacher saying something in your mind but you can’t hear it, you were too focussed on the feeling of your husband's rock hard abs against your back. It certainly hadn’t helped your breathing, to the point that the teacher had come over and corrected your breathing. Again though, Elias’ breath on your shoulder had distracted you.

Goddamn your sexy husband and his too-hot-to-handle existence. 

You decide to send him a text too.

To Hubby: Hi babe, can you call when you can? I’m pretty sure I’m in labour…

Another contraction convulses through your body. Your spine feels like it’s on fire and your belly tightens. You cry out vocally, trying to breathe rhythmically. You let yourself fall back against the pillows, just trying to get through the pain. You dig your fingers into the comforter, eyes screwing shut. It’s way worse than any period cramp you’ve ever had and you find yourself cursing your husband under your breath. Of course he can’t fucking be reached right now. Asshat.

Once the pain eases, you force yourself back up and grab your phone. There’s no new notifications and you resist the urge to cry. Then it hits you, Elias is golfing with Brock and Quinn. Brock’s phone is always on, something about never wanting to miss a call from his agent for the next big Hollywood hit or whatever, you don’t care about his reasoning right now but you’re thankful for him.

The phone starts to ring and you click the speaker phone option. It rings once before there's an answer. God bless Brock.

“Hello gorgeous mother of my future godchildren, how are you?” He answers, charming as always. 

“Hey Brock,” You chuckle at his greeting, trying to hide the tinge of pain behind your voice. “Can you give the phone to Elias? He’s not picking up and I think I’m in labour.”

There’s a pause on the other end and some shuffling. You think you can hear Bella in the background asking what's going on, that causes you to furrow your eyebrows. Why would Bella be golfing with them? She hates it as much as you do. Then you hear the phone being grabbed from Brock’s grip as he cries out a loud “hey!’.

“Babes, Petey isn’t here with us?” Bella states, sounding equally as confused as you.

“Put it on speaker,” Brock demands in the background, not as loud as Bella. The sound of the phone shifts slightly as she switches it.

“He said he was golfing with you and Quinn today.” You reply, groaning as another shockwave of pain runs over you. You groan loudly into the phone. The pain causes you to drop the phone on the bed and forget the phone call as you try to breathe it out.

“That’s impossible because Quinn is in-” Brock counters, slightly oblivious to your pain. You love him to death but he can be such a blonde sometimes.

“Brock, it doesn’t matter right now,” You can hear the annoyance in his girlfriend’s voice as she interrupts his thoughts. Her focus is quickly back on you. “Y/N, are you in labour?”

The cry of anguish you respond with clues her in immediately. She springs into action on the other side of the phone. “Brock, get the keys. We have to get her to the hospital.”

“No.” You cry out, pain subsiding slightly. 

“Y/N, babes, you’re in labour,” Bella levels, her calmest and most rational voice on full display. It’s what you need right not but the irrational part of your brain doesn’t want to leave without your husband. “Brock will keep calling Elias but we need to get you to the hospital.”

“Okay,” you relent, getting up from the bed slowly, you pick your phone up and head for the nursery.

“Do you need me to stay on the phone with you?” She asks, Brock is in the background stomping around the apartment. Anyone unfamiliar with the actor would think he’s mad, but knowing him, you know that’s just simply the way he moves. A lot less elegance than he looks like he may possess. 

“Yes please.”

///

In the time it takes Brock and Bella to get to your apartment, you manage to change and grab your go-bag before letting yourself relax on the couch. You achieved all of this between crippling contractions. 

Your favourite two people in the world let themselves in with the key they have to your apartment. They have sympathetic looks on their faces as they take in the sight of you on the couch. 

You must look like a mess, you’re sweaty and stressed. “Hi,” is all you manage from your spot.

“Hi gorgeous, ready to go become a mama?” Bella coos, squatting down in front of you. There’s a glimmer of excitement in her eyes and you can feel it now too. It’s slowly becoming real. You nod, holding out your arms so she can help you up. You brace against her arms as you get up, smiling gratefully.

Brock stands behind her sheepishly, flitting with his phone. His thumbs are moving a mile a minute and you hope to god that he’s talking to Elias and Elias is on the way.

“Is Elias going to meet us there?” There’s hope in your eyes that slightly breaks Brock’s heart.

In a split second decision, he lies. “Of course, so we should get going.”

Truth is, Brock has no fucking clue where his best friend is. He has no fucking clue why Elias lied about being with him. He sure as hell knows he’s going to chew out Elias’s ass the moment he tracks the Swede down.

The lie does seem to pacify you and Brock is quick to be at your side and help you to the car, Bella follows along behind, having grabbed the go bag. Brock leads you down the hallway as his girlfriend locks the apartment. 

///

Brock has never been more stressed in his life. He was once looking forward to having children of his own with his beautiful girlfriend but after driving you to the hospital in the state you were in, he’s not so sure. You cried out in pain nearly every 8 minutes on the way, Vancouver traffic never one to be considerate of a crisis.

The screaming from the back of his car had Brock white-knuckling the steering wheel and peaking sheepishly in the rearview mirror at Bella holding your hand. The pale look on his face nearly caused Bella to laugh, until you gripped her hand harder, head thrown back against the seat headrest. 

Between glancing back to make sure you’re okay and glancing at his Apple CarPlay in hopes of a response from your husband, Brock was struggling to pay attention to the road. 

Not the best attitude to take when driving a pregnant woman to the hospital. It caused your anxiety to skyrocket and Bella to yell at Brock which certainly did not help the situation.

Upon arriving at the hospital, Brock is quick to let you and Bella out at the emergency entrance, before circling around to go find a parking spot.

Bella has your elbow in her arm, supporting you as she guides you to the entrance. Your go-bag is over her shoulder.

“Thank you,” You murmur between breaths. The gratitude is quickly overtaken by a contraction though and you stop dead in the middle of the entryway, paralyzed with pain. Bella is quick to hold you up.

“Breathe, just like this,” her lips purse and she blows out her breath in a weird pattern. You copy along as a nurse approaches you. You recognize her as the nurse who does your check-ups.

“Hi Mrs. Pettersson, looks like we’re having these babies,” She smiles, coming to your other side and helping Bella guide you to the wheelchair an orderly brought over. You just nod your head, trying to follow along with Bella’s breathing technique. 

The orderly begins pushing you along to a room, the nurse lags behind with Bella. The nurse has a look of concern on her face as she turns to Bella.

“Where is Elias?” She inquires, she’d always admired how dedicated your partner was during check-ups. He always had questions and a detailed list of what you’d been experiencing since the last check-up. It had taken her by surprise when he wasn’t there but ever the professional, she’d schooled her shock.

“I don’t know, he should be arriving soon.” Bella supplies, speeding up to keep up with you.

The nurse nods her head and heads back to her station to grab her gear. Brock comes rushing through the door, spotting his girlfriend lingering outside of your room. 

The nurse slides between them to get into your room, the door is cracked as she begins to get you ready. Bella brings your go-bag in as you get changed into an IV-compatible gown. She plugs in your phone charger and checks to see if there’s an update from Elias. Your phone only shows a text from your mom. 

“Y/N, your mom texted, should I let her know?” She calls out to you.

Your reply comes muffled through the bathroom door. “Yes please.”

Both Bella and the nurse chuckle at your response. Bella is quick to shoot off the text, eyes lingering on where Brock is pacing outside the room. His phone is in one hand and the other is pulling at his gorgeous blonde locks in what can only be described as one of the most stressed actions she’s ever seen.

As you settle in the hospital bed and the nurse begins to fasten different machines to you. You’re oblivious to the stress emanating off of the actor outside of your room as you relax between contractions.

“Is it too late for an epidural?” You inquire sheepishly. Your nurse laughs.

Bella excuses herself and slips outside. She swears she shuts the door as she joins Brock outside. They can still see into your room, you’re chatting politely with your nurse as she fixes the blood pressure cuff around your bicep.

“Do you know when Elias will be here?” She asks softly.

Brock’s face drops as he turns away from the window. He’s seen your lipreading skills before and even though you’re distracted, he’s not taking the risk. “No.”

“Well what did he say when you talked to him?” Bella inquires, eyebrow peaked in interest. She also turns away from the window.

“I didn’t.” Brock says, eyes dropping to the floor. “I don’t know where Elias is.”

“But you said-”

“I needed to keep her calm,” Brock makes eye contact with Bella, the love for you is clear behind his eyes and she softens at the admission. “She can’t know that he’s not coming.”

“He’s not coming,” Bella repeats, trying to wrap her head around the fact.

“What do you mean he’s not coming?” Your voice sounds from behind them; you’re standing in the doorway, gown-clad and attached to a mobile IV unit. The look of shock on your face breaks both Brock and Bella’s hearts. Your voice grows quieter. “You said he was coming”.

Brock reaches out to comfort you but you’re now freaking out like he’s never seen before. The heart rate monitor spikes and the nurse in the room rushes to get you into bed.

There’s so much emotion flowing through your body. You’re hyperventilating and want to scream. No one is prepared for the way you pass out. Brock and your nurse lunge to catch you, struggling to get you into the hospital bed.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Brock is also freaking out now.

The nurse has no time for him though as she reaches for a large red button on the wall. Bella stands idly in the doorway watching the chaos unfold. She’s frozen in shock, unsure what just happened and what she needs to do.

The nurse is quick to spring into action, and she peers over her shoulder at your two companions. “You both need to get out of here. We have to take her to the operating room.”

///

Elias’ phone is on the counter in the other room. He’d placed it on the kitchen counter as soon as he’d entered Vanessa’s luxury penthouse. He’d had to dance around baby toys sprawled around the floor but it made him chuckle thinking about how your apartment would soon look like that.

Elias had met Vanessa Morgan a year and a half ago when he and Natasha had helped with creating some ads for Riverdale’s production team. He kept his friendship with the actress on the lowdown from you. You’d been suspicious of her since you’d met her. She seemed weirdly obsessed with your husband, but Petey thought of her as a friend.

He’d offered to help her set up some of the baby furniture she hadn’t had the chance to before she’d had her baby three months ago. 

He’d already finished the changing table and the glider chair. Elias was working on the crib, the instructions almost confusing to him. He’d had no trouble putting the twin’s cribs together. To Elias, it was something a father-to-be should take pride in. 

It’s why Elias stepped up for Vanessa. Her baseball player husband had left her early in her pregnancy. He couldn’t comprehend how a man could up and abandon his family with no hesitation.

“How’s it going in here?” The short actress asks from the doorway. She’d just finished putting her little guy down for a nap, thankful she’d been wise enough to buy a bassinet for her bedroom for her baby’s first few months.

“I think you may have bought the most complicated crib in the world,” Elias laughs, looking up at his friend with a playful smile. “Did he go down for his nap easily?”

Vanessa nods, strutting into the room, she admires the other pieces of furniture he’s built in his couple of hours helping her. “I’m surprised you’re not with your wife today.”

Elias hums, his focus back on trying to fit the pieces together. “What do you mean?”

“She’s getting close to her due date, isn’t she?” She inquires, there’s a tone to her voice that Elias can’t quite place. The tone he can't quite place? Smugness. The kind of hubris possessed by a woman with ill-intentions.

“Yeah but all the boys in my family have arrived late,” Elias insists, twisting the screw driver. “She’ll be fine.”

Vanessa could point out that his wife is carrying twins and therefore more likely to have her babies early but why would she force Elias back into his wife’s arms? No, she’d much rather keep him to herself for as long as possible.

While Elias might think of Vanessa as his friend, Vanessa thinks of Elias in a less pg way. She’d been wanting to get into his pants since the first time they met. Of course she was married at the time, but it had never stopped her before. 

“You know, that looks like hard work,” She starts, adopting her most sensual voice. She’s determined to reel him in. “Why don’t I make you a snack?”

Elias is quick to agree and they both proceed to the kitchen. He leans against the kitchen counter as she scuttles around the kitchen. Vanessa hands him a glass of water that he accepts happily and sips slowly as he watches her.

“How’s the show going?” He asks, as she gathers condiments from the fridge.

She smiles at him, placing her ingredients down on the counter beside him. “It’s good, they’ve been really good about me staying back with River.”

Elias nods, thinking about how easy it’ll be for him to help out with the twins with his job that he can work from home. “That’s awesome. You’ve got a good support system, hey?”

“Yeah, I’m extremely grateful for everyone in my life,” Vanessa puts her butter knife down on the counter, turning to Elias and moving closer to him. She places a hand on his chest and begins to trail her fingers along the ridges of his body. “Especially you, you’ve been so good to me.”

Elias freezes, this must be what you meant when you said Vanessa had a weird energy to her when it came to him. She leans in close, and he can feel her breath on his face. He’s briefly amazed that such a short person can reach him so easily but then she closes her eyes and leans in.

He’s saved by the bell. Okay, maybe not quite a bell but the loud, shrill ringing of his phone is a close enough substitute. He dodges out of her reach to grasp his phone. Brock’s profile picture is on display and once he’s certain she’s not following him, he clicks the green connect button before retreating into the living room with his phone pressed against his ear.

“Hello?” Elias says into the phone, silently thanking whatever deity he can that Brock saved him.

“Dude where the fuck are you?” Brock starts, he sounds panicked and Elias is instantly worried. “Actually, I don’t fucking care. You need to get down to Vancouver General now.”

“Why? Brock, what’s going on?” Elias demands, pacing around the living room.

“Your wife went into labour. After finding out you weren’t coming, she passed out and had to be rushed into an emergency c-section to save the babies.” Brock recites robotically. Elias has never heard his best friend so angry at him. 

Then Brock’s words hit him. His heart stops, and he jolts to. “I’ll be right there.”

///

Elias is quiet as Brock and Bella lead him to your room. Neither of them could truly look at him after he’d told them where he was. He couldn’t blame them.

He was a bit of a wreck. He’d driven over the speed limit to get to you. He hadn’t been there when you needed him and something could’ve happened to you or your babies.

Your room is also quiet. There’s a small whimper coming from one of the bundles in your arms. He stops dead in his tracks, seeing you holding your twins is everything he’s ever wanted. You, the love of his life, with his children. And he missed their arrival.

“Hi,” He says, finally. He’d stood in the doorway somberly long after Brock and Bella had headed home. He’s sure Brock has already informed Quinn of what happened, that’s why his phone is blowing up in his pocket.

“Hello,” you reply coldly, without even looking up at him. Your eyes remain on your sweet boys the entire time. You’d known he was standing there since the moment Brock and Bella led him there.

Your reply is a sharp contrast to the way you’d been with him this morning. It’s shocking to Elias how a single day can change everything in a mere matter of hours.

“So, we’ve got sons.” He starts, dragging his feet on the floor as he walks over to occupy the seat beside your bed.

“Well, we knew that already.” You deadpan, finally looking up at him. There’s pure hurt behind your eyes and Elias wants to reach out and hold you but he knows better.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. 

You scoff. “Whatever.” 

Elias reaches for a baby and you hand him one.

“I’m here now and I’m not leaving.” He says, sure of himself. It’s too bad you don’t believe him.

Next Part

[certifiedwhore4slashers]

No because what if, What if for your "chase" and "if I can't have you, No one can" you make a part two where Sam think she killed Ethan and His sister, Dad but didn't really

And that's how part 2 "Ends", which would go into part 3 where the Bailey family is back but this time no one can get in there way like they actually kill Chad, Mindy, Sam, Danny , Tara, and Anika but see The reader had just gotten back from a family trip only to find that they all are dead so when the reader

Gets back to their room it was dark so they didn't see that Ethan was in the room until they trun on the lights , that's then they truly realize that they could never I mean never get away from Ethan , which then Ethan is like "we finally finished it" before he walks up to the reader and the reader is like crying

But then they would have to "learn how to live Ethan back" because they could never Runway from him anymore and thats how part 3 ends

P. S I'm not forcing you to do it I totally understand if you don't do it <3

i never even thought of this lol. but i will do so. thank you for this!

Never Leaving

Part 1 Part 2

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

summary: you thought he was dead, you were wrong. now, you're stuck with him.

warnings: obsession, possessiveness, yandere, toxicity, murder, gore, blood, ethan being psycho, slight manipulation and angst.

SCREAM VI SPOILER WARNINGS! I don’t wanna be an asshole and not warn you guys in advance so don’t read if you don’t want spoilers. But you should read part 1 and part 2 first. Anyways, continue if you’ve either seen the movie or don’t really care.

You smiled, while lying on the pool chair next to your mother. She had insisted on going on this trip. A family trip was what you needed ever since your boyfriend died. You hadn't really visited your family in some time.

Plus, from what you heard, Ethan was dead. alongside Quinn and Detective Bailey. "Y/n, Isn't this lovely? M/n smiled. You nodded." So warm here in Peru."

M/N grins, holding your hand. You had been bonding quite more since you had been so busy during College. But now spring break came around.

You grin. "How about we go swimming in the ocean?" M/n responded, "Wonderful Idea. I love swimming."

You open your eyes, remembering your fun trip to Peru. You finished unpacking, deciding you should relax.

“That was a fun trip, you smile. Then you check your phone. None of your friends had actually answered or even seen your messages. It kind of worried you. No it really worried you.

Did you do anything to make them hate you? Why were they avoiding you? That’s when you decided on checking the news lately. You could see what happened when they apparently killed Ethan, Quinn and Detective Bailey.

Your eyes widen when the news mentions your friends, Sam, Tara, and Kirby being murdered? they were dead. You were sure they were alive, they killed the Ghostface Killers.

You saw their bodies on the news. Covered in blood, Insides cut open from fheir stomachs. You felt like throwing up. So you go in your bathroom and vomit in your toliet.

Why? Why were they killed?

No, you knew why. But still. You begin sobbing, Your friends were gone. You were so sure you could live your life happily, but now, you couldn't.

You sniff when you leave your bathroom, going back to your room. Your room was dark, but you didn't think much of it. Until you turned on the lights. There stood Ethan, a knife in one of his hands, his mask in the other.

"Ethan? You blurt nervously. "That's right, Y/n, Ethan smiled crazily. "We finally finished it!" "Finished what? You said. "Our movie, Y/N! He said, looking even more crazy.

You begin crying, while he comes closer. You realized when he began comforting you, being soft, you couldn't ever be free from him. You would need to love him. He was never leaving. and you could never run again.

[suzdin]

Two For One: Ch. 2

(Dave York x Max Phillips x f!reader)

Part One Here

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, pre-vampire Max, pre-Equalizer 2 Dave, small age gap (unspecified), no use of y/n, some angst, mention of weapons, romance, some fluff, alcohol use, smut, graphic depictions of sex, rough sex, degradation, sadism, kinda dubcon, dom!Dave, spanking, fingering, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, anal

Notes: This is a Dave heavy chapter and Max is kind of an afterthought, sorry if you’re here because of him. He’ll make a larger appearance in the next chapter, I promise! 🤪

——

“Careful, it’s a bit heavy—“ you say as you pass your bag to Dave. “—there’s glass,” you add for good measure, Dave’s fingers brushing yours as he grabs at the straps to hoist it over his shoulder. You watch as your bottle of Smirnoff lists to one side, breath catching in your throat until it eventually tips back.

Ignoring the almost-fiasco of it crashing to the sidewalk, Dave eyes you up and down once he settles everything, which causes your cheeks to heat. “What are you in the mood for?” he asks, his eyes large and brown, reminding you almost comically of a baby cow.

“Um,” you answer awkwardly, not sure what to say. You don’t want to pick something on the pricier side, your impoverished upbringing screaming at you in your head. “I don’t really have a lot of money, so…there’s a Burger King around the corner?” you suggest.

Dave shakes his head in disagreement, his lips tilting into a smirk, the skin around his eyes crinkling in a way that makes him look soft. Inviting. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m paying.”

And herein lies a new dilemma: you don’t want him to assume you’re gouging him for money. It isn’t like the restaurants in your neighborhood are high class, but they certainly aren’t cheap, either.

“Oh, um, well…” you begin. “What are you in the mood for?” you ask, deflecting the question back to him.

Dave knows what you’re doing; you don’t want to choose something that might leave a bad taste in his mouth, literally and figuratively. He can’t help to admit it strokes his ego a little that you want to make a good first impression; he thinks that bodes well for him. He tries not to let his gaze linger longer than necessary.

He cants his head forward, gesturing for you to follow him. Together, the two of you start down the street.

“Well,” he begins, raising his eyebrows in contemplation. “There’s Italian straight ahead. An Irish pub called Quinn’s that has decent enough food across from that. Greek and Indian on Broadway…” he trails off idly, hoping any of those sound appetizing.

“Greek is good. I like Greek. Hummus actually sounds killer right about now,” you admit, your stomach grumbling audibly at the mention of food. You clutch at yourself as if that will stop it. “Sorry.”

He re-adjusts the bag on his shoulder and smiles over at you, pointedly ignoring your wailing stomach. It isn’t heavy, not really. Not for a big guy like Dave. “Mythos it is.”

——

The restaurant isn’t far. You walk, shoulder to shoulder, mostly in silence. Dave can’t stop thinking about you or the sounds you’d made for Max; his dick fighting with his brain, trying to keep himself in check now that he’s this close to you.

He clocks right away how different you are from Carol, who would have vetoed every restaurant in the city and then complained about being hungry later. Carol, whom he’d met at his church—back when he gave a shit about such things—only a few months before being sent away to the Marine Corps, so that he hastily rushed into a marriage that neither of them ended up being happy in.

Carol liked to present herself as a godly, Christian woman, though from Dave’s experience, he knew that to be far from the truth.

You, on the other hand, did not give off such vibes, the way you often slept in until noon on Sundays (when you didn’t happen to be working, that was), the somewhat revealing cut of your clothes, or the fact that you didn’t care enough to keep your debauchery stowed away, if the constant slew of alcohol and cigarettes had anything to say about that.

Not to mention how you allowed yourself to be manhandled in a public space with little to no concern of being discovered.

Would you let him drink with you later? he wonders.

Would you let him touch you? Fuck you?

As if on cue, you pull a cigarette loose from your purse. “Is this okay?” you ask as you draw it up to your lips.

There’s something in his eyes you can’t quite read.

“By all means,” he responds, and you let go of a breath. His eyes track the way your lips curl around the filter as you bring the lighter up; the way you cup your other hand to block the wind as you walk. He’s never been more jealous of a cigarette in his entire life.

“Want one?” you offer, assuming that’s why he’s staring.

“No, thanks,” he replies with a small laugh. “Gave them up years ago when I left the Marines.”

Marines? This guy couldn’t possibly be anymore different from Jonathan, you think.

Jonathan, the tortured artist. Jonathan, who once tried to make his own beer and failed horribly, which landed you in the ER several months ago. Jonathan, who dragged you from your home state all the way to Massachusetts, depleting your life savings, and now you don’t have enough money to get home.

He was your type, once. Maybe Dave is what you need.

Maybe Max is what you need, you ponder, a particularly brisk step reminding you of the soreness blooming between your legs.

You don’t need a relationship, you think. What you need right now is no-strings-attached sex, which is exactly what Max seems to be able to offer you.

Dave is cute, though. And seems nice. You can’t deny there’s something reticent about him, however. Something tucked away.

It fascinates you.

You’re about half done with the cigarette by the time you reach the restaurant. You snuff it out on the ground and cram the remainder back into your purse.

It’s a small, hole in the wall sort of place with outdoor seating off to one side, somewhat hidden from view of the street. The inside is intimately lit, and seems a touch cramped for your taste.

“Inside or outside?” Dave asks.

“Out, if that’s okay,” you reply. It’s a cool September evening, which means it will be pleasant enough to sit outdoors, unlike back home this time of year. It’s a nice night and you’d like to enjoy it a bit longer.

“Yeah. Of course.” He tries to quell his nerves when he notices how empty the patio is; were you trying to hint at something? he wonders.

You realize at the same time Dave does that the patio is devoid of other patrons, and you hope you didn’t give off the wrong impression, but it’s too late to say anything by the time he tells the host to seat you there.

The patio is situated between two buildings, adorned with standard metal grid outdoor tables and chairs, a few planter boxes flanking the walls, and string lights strewn above your heads. The host seats you by one of the tables nearest a wall and tells you someone will be by to take your order shortly.

“This is nice,” Dave says, taking time to pull out your chair for you before you sit. It stokes something in you; none of the men you’ve dated ever took such a simple gesture into consideration.

It probably shouldn’t, though. You barely know him.

You shuffle uncomfortably under the table. It’s been a long time since you’ve been on a date, if that was in fact what this was, and you aren’t really sure how to feel about it; how to act and what to say.

“So, where are you from?” he asks, breaking the ice for you.

He is, of course, only making small talk out of formality; he already knows where you’re from. All the places you’ve lived, the jobs you’ve had, your relatives, your financial situation. Social media links. By simply finding out your name and knowing where you work, he was able to obtain more information about you in hours than he had in months of watching you.

It wasn’t enough. He needed to know more.

“Texas,” you answer. The waitress is here now, and she takes your drink orders. Dave orders a Diet Coke and you start to order a water—your go to because it’s free—but change your mind at the last second and order the same thing.

“Be right back with your drinks,” she speaks in what you assume is a Greek accent. You mumble a polite thank you out of habit.

“How about you?” Your turn to ask now.

“Baltimore. Parents were in the FBI, so we stayed close to D.C. for a reason,” he replies with a smile. You make a face of admiration because you don’t know how else to respond to that.

“Wow,” you say as a placeholder. “The FBI? Impressive.”

He preens and shakes his head with a small laugh. “Yeah, I guess so.”

And then you settle into another drawn out silence. It should feel jarring, but to you, it’s a reprieve. You were never good at carrying a conversation. You start looking over the menu to fill the time, even though you already know what you’re getting.

“So. You want hummus, right? I’ll order some when she comes back,” Dave says.

“I’m getting that as my meal,” you state and it’s true. You would normally get an entree if you were just eating alone and save it for later, but you’re being polite. Besides, you’re really jonesing for some hummus right now.

“You sure?” he asks. “You can get anything you want.”

“I know. Thank you. But I— the hummus sounds good,” you reiterate. He concedes, brushing a hand through his sweat damp hair.

“Dolmas, then,” he suggests, pointing it out on the menu. Your menu, in fact, so that his arm briefly comes into contact with yours.

“Yeah. That sounds nice,” you agree quietly.

He can’t stop himself from smiling at you. You’re so kind. So polite. So shy. Everything that Carol isn’t.

He almost couldn’t believe what you’d let Max do to you. The sinful noises you’d made as a result.

Your duality captivates him. Not unlike yourself, he has his own duality.

He’s already growing stiff under the table. He can’t help it. He wishes you would make the same noises for him.

The waitress comes back a few minutes later with the drinks and takes your orders. “It will be out shortly,” she says when she’s done, tapping her pen against the ticket book as she strides away.

Dave starts asking you about your family. He already knows, of course. But he wants to hear you say it, perhaps to elaborate the details, see how much you’re willing to open up. He nods along patiently as you talk about your sick grandmother and how your mom takes care of her full-time. That you send money to them every once in a while, which is just one other thing that keeps you from saving, although you omit that last part.

You briefly touch on the subject of your brother—your only sibling—and how he’s been in and out of jail and rehab for years, but you don’t expound on that more than necessary.

Dave knows everything so he only lets you tell him what you’re comfortable sharing. He knows about the armed robberies, and that when you say jail, what you really mean is prison.

He notices how disquieted talking about your brother makes you. He’s overcome with the urge to kiss you, again. Take away the hurt. He settles on gently squeezing your shoulder instead. You don’t cringe away this time. He lets his hand dally a touch too long, perhaps, but you don’t say anything.

The dolmas come out a few minutes later. You admit to Dave you’ve never had them before, but after trying the first one, you’re hooked. They’re earthy, lemony and savory; everything you would expect and more.

“Glad you’re enjoying them,” Dave says affectionately. “They’re my favorite.”

You start to relax, a little. But you’re still mostly a bundle of raw nerves and when staff is out of view, you bend over to dig in your grocery bag to retrieve the vodka. It’s been such a long—and bizarre—day. It cannot be helped how you’re feeling or that you need relief.

You don’t catch Dave’s eyes on the droop of your chest as you bend…or the way he licks his lips salaciously, imagining how your nipples would taste against his tongue.

“Would you like any?” you query as you unscrew the top and dump what looks about a shot’s worth into your soda, swirling it with your straw.

Dave should say no. Lord knows he can barely contain himself as it is, stone cold sober.

But like most things having to do with you, he can’t resist, so he doesn’t. You pour some of the clear liquid into his cup.

And it continues like that for a while; adding another shot after every refill, halfway to being drunk by the time your food arrives, your anxiety dissipating with every drop of alcohol in your bloodstream.

Dave’s little touches grow more frequent, as well. Your hands and arms, your nearest shoulder, your knees. A few times, he has to stop himself from gripping your knees to spread them apart for him. It’s been a while since he’s been drunk; you’re probably handling it better than he is.

“What about you, then? Tell me about your family,” you pry, adding another shot to each of your cups.

Dave tells you about his parents, his siblings—one brother and one sister, both older. One lives in Rhode Island and the other in Florida. He says he doesn’t see them as often as he’d like.

“What do you do for work?” you question.

“I’m retired from the CIA,” he answers honestly, pointedly leaving out the part where he still acts as a consultant from time to time. He does not elaborate more than that.

Your eyes go wide, your brows shooting up your forehead. Dave must be the most decorated person you know. “CIA? This isn’t a situation where you have to kill me now that you’ve told me, right?” you ask playfully, and Dave laughs, his fingers grazing your hand.

“I’ll just pretend I didn’t,” he says around a laugh. You melt into a soft smile and he almost grabs you. Almost drags your mouth to his.

His control is waning by the minute.

“What brought you to Boston, anyway?” he finally asks. He knows already, of course, but he wants your side of it.

You’d been avoiding the subject, but the words flow easier now that you’re inebriated. You tell him about Jonathan; how you’d met online, fell in love—or so you thought—moved halfway across the country for him, only for him to leave you for another woman. Your cheeks shade red with anger.

You clock how hard Dave’s face gets while you’re recounting everything. It’s sort of amazing how swiftly his visage shifts from light to dark in the span of mere seconds. It’s unsettling in its own right, really, so you wave your hand dismissively, in order to change the subject.

“What about you? What brought you to Boston?”

He shifts back in his chair, knee brushing yours and bumping it aside ever so slightly. But he isn’t listening, his bubbling thoughts like a dull roar between his ears; he’s thinking of all the ways he would torture Jonathan before killing him. He’d killed many men, both for the Marines and the CIA. He enjoyed it. Got off on it. So what’s a little more blood in his ledger, in the shape of two men named Max and Jonathan?

He would kill them both as soon as he got the chance. The first in years.

“Dave? You okay?” you ask, placing a tentative hand on top of his where it grips the edge of the table, your thumb skimming the hills and valleys of his knuckles. His gaze snaps to yours, and he recognizes the worry in your eyes. You’re worried about him. It’s been a long time since anyone has worried about him.

That small reciprocative touch from you is all it takes to provoke him, drunk as he is. His opposite hand moves suddenly to your throat, then to the nape of your neck, and he pulls you into him, mouth crashing against yours, needy and messy, all teeth and lips until you open your mouth to him and he’s laving at you with broad strokes of his tongue.

You taste like vodka and heaven.

He swallows your whimper as it works its way up from the depths of your throat; as much as you can’t believe you’re kissing a man you’ve only just officially met, you’re impervious to stop him. This is exactly what you were wanting, what you were needing earlier, with Max. That intimacy, that connection, that Max had denied you. That Dave is offering freely. It’s what you wanted so badly and you only stop when Dave does, pulling apart from you to catch his breath, panting against each other’s lips.

You swipe your tongue against his bottom lip after a few moments, enticing him to return, and he takes advantage of the invitation with a deep groan, prodding his tongue hungrily into your mouth. He palms himself over his shorts as he does so—he can’t help it. You drive him fucking crazy.

You’re letting him touch you. He cannot believe you’re letting him. He wonders how much farther he could go.

His hand moves to your chest, curling lightly against the rise of your upper breast, skirting, testing. When you don’t object, he moves lower, gently cupping you from underneath, cradling the weight in his hand. He grunts into your mouth, dragging his thumb up to circle the stem of your nipple. Might as well go for it as long as you seem receptive.

You pull apart, panting hard, lust-drunk and intoxicated. His hand doesn’t move from your breast, his thumb deftly doing laps around the circumference of your stiffened peak, and it feels better than you could have ever imagined, your head draping over the back of the chair.

You need to know how his thumb would feel circling the bundle of nerves between your legs. You know how fucked it is, how fast everything is moving between the two of you, but you find yourself unable to give a shit after the year you’ve had.

You take his hand and move it down to the cradle of your lap as your legs splay wide for him. He cups your heat with his hand, wrist cocked, completely swallowing you in its mass.

His eyes go impossibly dark. Almost unreadable. His lips pull tight, and you think you see the promise of a smirk there, but you can’t be too sure. His brow is furrowed into a heavy line, lending him a feral—almost dangerous—appearance. And he absolutely is, right now—he’d wanted you for so long and he finally has you. Target acquired. God help anyone who might try to take you from him.

His hand doesn’t move right away and you almost think you’ve offended him. You start to cant your hips, seeking friction, and he stills you with the other hand, wide palm holding you in place against the chair.

The thin bike shorts don’t leave much to the imagination; he can feel your soft folds against his fingers and the dampness that is already creeping through. He starts to stroke with his fore and middle fingers along your seam, his thumb firmly pressed to your clothed clit, rolling tight circles.

It’s all so much that you would buck into his hand if he wasn’t holding you down. You mewl pathetically in his wake, and you’re certain you do see his lips curving into a grin now.

You feel like a rabbit locked in the jaws of a wolf.

“Feels so pretty for me,” Dave murmurs against your lips, his forehead pressed to yours as he holds your gaze in his. “What else would you let me do to you, huh?”

You swallow. Your heart is slamming in your chest. The hero facade from earlier is gone and the real Dave is now bared right in front of you.

“Whatever you want,” you respond in a shaky breath. You’re scared of him, but you kind of like it. The fear consuming you is enrapturing.

“That’s a dangerous proposition,” Dave tuts, tongue clicking between his teeth. Thumb continuously circling your sensitive nub.

A moan slips free and you find it nearly impossible to stay in one spot, even in his clutches. He eventually resigns himself and lets go, hand coming up to squeeze just under your jaw.

“Would you let me put a finger in you? Right here?” he rumbles lowly, his voice deep, dark. It almost doesn’t sound like a question, coming from him.

You already know the answer to such a devious question. You’d let Max almost do the same, after all, and you don’t even like Max.

“Yes,” you admit. “Yes…please.”

“Fucking filthy.” His eyes shine and his lips curl into a wicked smile. Carol would have never agreed to something like that; as if he hadn’t asked on multiple occasions. But that never stopped her from fucking a neighbor at a Christmas party several years ago.

The ache in his cock is burgeoning on painful. His grip under your chin tightens; still very much controlled, but enough to get his point across. “Grab my cock.”

Your breath catches. He leans in to kiss you again, your fingers skating along the inner plane of his thigh, snaking into the opening of his shorts. You find his stiffened member readily, lacing your fingers around the ample girth and stroking it along the ridges of your palm, slowing down when you reach the head. Precum leaks down your wrist. He’s warm and hard as steel and feels amazing. He grunts into your mouth, hips rolling forward, chasing your touch.

“Fuck,” he whispers. He’s spent so long dreaming of this exact scenario that now that it’s happening, it’s too much. Too much and not enough all at once. He breathes headily into your mouth, sucking and biting at your lips. He wonders if you’d suck him off under the table; he knows from listening to you earlier that Max hadn’t claimed your mouth. He wanted to be the one to claim that before Max, spill himself down your throat and mark you from the inside out.

It’s so much that he won’t last long if you keep touching him like that, your soft warm hand doing slow, rounded strokes on his cock. He stills your hand and you exchange a glance.

“Lean back, sweetheart.” His words go straight to your core. Max had also called you that, but the cadence was different, more derivative. Dave’s movements are deliberate and controlled, unlike Max’s more chaotic approach. Cold and calculating; yet something in the low pitch of his voice makes you want to trust him.

You lean against the chair, hips sliding forward. Dave wets two fingers against his tongue and, resuming the onslaught of his mouth on yours, pulls back the band of your skin tight shorts to slip the other hand inside.

Your head lolls back against the chair and your eyes flutter shut. Your head swims; what is wrong with you? The waitress could come back to find Dave knuckles deep inside of you at any second.

But that’s part of the allure.

His hand dips lower, skimming the soft curls of your mound, tracing your shape. He’s only inches away from discovering your drenched and waiting hole when a new sound penetrates the fog of your mind. It takes a moment for understanding to settle over you, and then hits you abruptly: someone is clearing their throat.

Your eyes snap open and Dave yanks his hand back so hard he elbows the arm of the chair, a quiet hiss escaping from his lips as he tries to downplay the hurt. You look up to see the waitress peering down at you.

“I was going to ask if you wanted dessert, but seems you’ve already started,” she points out. She looks more amused than angry, but it doesn’t stop the shame that blooms hot in your cheeks at being so careless.

“I’m sorry,” you tell her softly.

“Just the check,” Dave says, doing his best to feign innocence. He bites the inside of his cheek. “Thanks.”

You both burst into laughter like a pair of teenagers as soon as she’s out of earshot. You look down at your half eaten plate of hummus and pitas. “Shit, I should have asked for a box too,” you say, acting as though you didn’t just have hands down the other’s pants. He chuckles, brushing a hand through short, dark hair.

“Yeah, guess so.” His mouth hooks into a crooked smirk.

The air of the moment is gone as you fall into a silence that is more comfortable than the one before, his hand lingering on your knee, thumb circling your kneecap as a gentle reminder.

The waitress returns and she is a saint. Not only has she brought the check, she’s also brought boxes for your leftovers and something in a smaller to-go box. “Baklava, for after,” she says, giving you a knowing wink. You blush. “On the house.”

Dave pays the check and leaves a generous tip as quickly as he is able to do so.

——

Dave’s hands are all over you the entire way home.

Not in a gratuitous way; he’s learned his lesson there. But that doesn’t stop him from sliding his fingers up and down your back as you walk together, or the way his hand curls taut around your hip and ass to pull you in close to nip at your neck. You giggle and playfully try to fend him off, but it does very little to dissuade him, of which you don’t mind.

He’s grateful he chose to wear loose fitting shorts to jog in today. Anything tighter and it would leave very little to the imagination. He’s sure he’s showing enough already, but he can’t be arsed enough to care, or help how deranged you make him feel. He would have taken you at the restaurant, if you had let him. If the two of you could have gotten away with it.

You arrive at the passage between your buildings after what seems like an eternity of walking. You feel his fingers dig a little harder into your backside as soon as you round the corner, and then he’s turning you, pressing your back flush against his building the same way Max had done to you earlier against yours. The similarities between both men is eerie.

His mouth finds your neck and he sucks a line of red marks down to your shoulder, leaving behind a trail of hickies that won’t be going anyway anytime soon, but you’re too fucked out already to mind.

“My place or yours?” Dave asks. His pelvis crowds into you, erection grinding at your center, the thin fabrics of your outfits a blessing as you feel every hard press of him into you.

“Yours,” you mutter without a second thought. You don’t know if you could handle two men in your space in a single day. You’d barely had time to gather your thoughts from earlier, much less clean up after yourself.

If only you knew what Dave knows. What he did.

Dave pulls away from you, one hand circling your wrist as he drags you with him, the other digging into his pocket to retrieve the keycard from his wallet. You need the same for your building, he thinks. Safer that way, less chance of being tampered with, and he would be able to rest easier.

He readjusts the grocery bag on his shoulder as he slides the keycard into the lock and pushes the door open. “After you,” he says, motioning ahead. You do as he asks, stepping over the threshold and into the building, Dave following at your heels.

His building is nicer than yours, a little more modern and kept up. A bank of mail boxes sits off to your right, a seating area to the left. There’s a staircase directly in front of you and an elevator beyond that. He gestures you up the stairs.

“I’m just on the second floor, last door on the left,” he instructs, and you dutifully begin your ascent, slowly, as you’re still more than just slightly tipsy.

Dave falls in line behind you. A moment later, you feel his hands spanning the width of your ass, kneading your flesh against his palms, landing a soft smack to your right cheek; just hard enough to let you know that he’s there and what he’s about to do to you.

“I’ve thought about this ass a lot,” Dave says in a low pitch, “Feels just as nice as I imagined it would.”

You reach the landing and make your way down the narrow corridor until you reach a door with 2A emblazoned on it, canting your eyes towards Dave for conformation. He nods and you step aside as he moves to unlock the door.

The interior of Dave’s apartment is larger than your own. It has an actual bedroom, for one. It’s also more tidy—there isn’t a lot of furniture, very few personal items, which means less clutter. No pictures hung on the walls. Just the bare necessities. A man’s apartment.

Dave puts your bag on the kitchen counter and he’s on you before you can even slide your purse off, removing the burdensome item for you, tossing it thoughtlessly behind him to join the other. His lips crash into yours, needy and desperate, tongue licking into your mouth as his hands roam over your chest to cup both breasts.

You feel better than he could have ever imagined. Like your body was made just for him, the way it slots perfectly against his own.

You make a chirp of surprise as he scoops you up with a low growl, one arm across your back and the other in the bend of your knees as he carries you to the bedroom down the hall. His mouth doesn’t relent, sucking and biting at your lips, your jaw.

“Going to ruin you tonight,” he moans against your mouth.

He puts you down on the edge of the bed when you make it to the bedroom. It’s just as sparse of the rest of the apartment, with plain black sheets and a plain black comforter. At least the bed isn’t made up; that makes you feel a little better about how you live.

He crouches in front of you, large brown eyes darkening a shade as he studies your face. Hands gripping your thighs.

“Just so you know, darling, I don’t play nice,” he forewarns, hands sliding down your legs to stroke your bare calves. Going off of what he heard earlier, he’s sure that won’t be a problem. “Before we start, is there anything off the table?”

You consider his question for a moment, thoughtfully biting your lip. “Yes. I’m not on birth control, so…” you trail off with a nervous giggle. Your condoms are of no use back at your apartment.

His jaw clenches. Of course he doesn’t have any condoms either, as he hasn’t had a need for them in quite some time. He supposes he understands. It isn’t like he needs more kids, anyway.

“Guess I have to cum in one of your other holes, then,” he muses, squeezing and kneading your calves. His hands are large and warm and they feel fucking amazing. “If at any point you want me to stop, you say ‘foxglove’. Otherwise, I assume anything goes. Clear?”

“Clear,” you confirm, inclining your head in a small nod, a tremor slithering its way through you as you consider the possibilities.

Dave’s expression hardens as a hand lifts to your face, landing a smack across your cheek just hard enough to sting but not hurt. Not yet.

“Tell me what you say if it’s too much. I need to hear you say it,” his voice dark and heavy.

“Foxglove. The safe word…is foxglove.”

One corner of his mouth slants upwards into a smirk, his eyes remaining dark. Glassy. “Atta girl,” he says with a wink.

He begins removing your clothing, yanking and manipulating the fabric free from your form until you’re completely nude, your skin pebbling as cool air rushes over you. His gaze traverses your curves, drinking you in with his eyes as he licks his lips hungrily. He can see bruises forming where Max’s fingers gripped you, where they dug in. He surprises himself when it only serves to further turn him on, the head of his dick beading with precum as he pictures how Max must have fucked you. Part of him wishes he had been able to see it for himself.

He slaps you again, harder this time, hand moving to your throat to shove you down until your back makes contact with the mattress, a small gasp rushing out of you. Moving from the floor to the bed, he seats himself at your side, grabbing one of your knees to spread you open.

He drags a finger along your soaked seam, revering how wet you already are for him, how easily the tip of his finger slips inside. “Fuck, is this just for me?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper. You nod in response. “Fuckin’ slut.”

He sinks his finger to the last knuckle, pumping a few times, adding a second a moment later. You mewl and writhe underneath him, craving more friction between your legs.

“Just fuck me, Dave, please. Want your cock in me.”

He chuckles, balls pulsing in response to your words as he removes his fingers from your dripping heat. “My cock, pretty girl?” he purrs. “Who’s calling the shots here?” he asks you, pinching and twisting one of your nipples as retribution. The pain makes you cry out, tears stinging your eyes, your back arching.

When you don’t answer, he repeats himself, tugging harder this time. “Who?” he snarls.

“Y-you! You!” you whine, moving your hand over your breast to soothe the hurt, but Dave knocks it back, pinning it to the bed.

“Don’t move your hands. I mean it.”

Your body trembles. This isn’t the mild mannered Dave from earlier; the juxtaposition absolutely terrifies you and it’s fucked how much you like it.

“You,” you repeat for good measure. “You do.”

Dave beams down at you, caressing your cheek. “Good girl.”

His fingers move to curve inside of you, adding a third this time, splitting you open for him. You keen at the sting of being stretched around his knuckles, hips instinctively bucking against him. You whimper when his palm bumps your clit.

He stills you with his opposite hand and you flinch, anticipating more retaliation.

“Easy,” he soothes, flattening his palm against your hip as he strokes. “I got you.”

His fingers pump lazily through your slick, sinking to the hilt, allowing himself to feel every ridge and ripple of your tunnel. Memorizing it. You’re so wet for him; he still can’t believe that you’re letting him do this. How did he get so lucky?

He fishes his phone from his pocket in a moment of insight; he doesn’t want to take any chances in case you never let him do this again. His eyes move to your face as he does so, awaiting any kind of objection, only to continue when he finds there is none. You watch with curiosity from your perspective as he flicks open the camera app and begins to film, training the lens where his fingers are currently disappearing inside of you.

It goes on for several minutes like that, Dave filming as he fucks you with his fingers, the wet squelch of his digits driving into you paired with the accompanying sounds of your gradually building pleasure more than a little gratuitous, as if it was straight from a porno.

He can tell by the way your inner walls are tightening that you’re getting close. He wants to get you off before he does, prepare you for the inevitable stretch of him so he can properly ruin you on his cock.

He passes the phone to you now, scooting higher up on the bed. You watch him through the phone screen and realize he’s still completely clothed, the lewd bulge of his erection more than obvious even through the phone. As if on cue, he palms himself before settling in next to you.

He nibbles down the rise of your shoulder, trailing to your breast, leaving small suckling bites until his mouth reaches the hard peak of your nipple. His tongue laves over it, circling it, sucking it into his mouth and taking it between his teeth. It sends a shockwave of pain through you, your cunt clenching down on Dave’s fingers, momentarily blinded by your pleasure.

You do as best you can to capture everything on camera, but there’s so much going on, your brain so swimmy you can barely see straight.

“Mmf,” he groans against the stiffened bud. “Doing so well already,” he praises.

His teeth move to the pillowy flesh of your outer breast, biting down harder than you would have imagined he would—to the point of nearly drawing blood—another lance of pain shooting through you with a strangled cry. It’s at that moment an orgasm unexpectedly washes over you, taking you by complete surprise as you scream Dave’s name loud enough for the entire building to hear.

His cock pulses with the need to be buried in your dark, wet heat as he rides out the ebbs and flows of your ecstasy, hand still fucking into you, harder and faster than before, and before you even realize what’s happening, a second orgasm surges through you like an arc of lightning on the tail end of the first, your vision pulling white for what seems like a lifetime.

“Fuck,” you mewl, your voice almost a sob. “Fuck, Dave.”

He keeps pumping until the aftershocks of your back to back orgasms starts to be too much, burgeoning on painful, and you plead for him to stop, grabbing at his wrist without giving it much thought.

“You know what to say if you want me to stop.” His face contorts into a wicked sneer. “I like when you tell me no.”

You let out a sigh of relief when you get a brief reprieve from the overstimulation as he pulls his fingers out of you, leaning forward to force your mouth open with his fingers. “Clean them off. Taste yourself. Taste what I did to you.”

You do your best to turn the camera to your face as you suck obediently, tasting a mixture of yourself and the salt of his skin, murmuring low in your throat as your eyes move to examine his face. He’s drunk on lust and on you, slack-jawed, dark eyes shimmering with dubiousness. Somehow, if it’s possible, it makes you even wetter than before.

When he removes his hand, a string of saliva connects your mouth to the tip of his middle finger, which you most definitely capture on the camera.

“My turn,” he says, sliding into a stand, removing his shirt and letting it join yours on the floor. The first thing you notice are his shoulders, endlessly broad and well defined, flexing with every movement. You’re unable to pull your attention away from the vastness of them until he’s kneeling again, grabbing you by the hips and pulling your ass to hang over the edge of the bed.

His face is buried between the juncture of your thighs a moment later, arched Roman nose nudging your overly sensitive bundle of nerves. His tongue dips to penetrate you, lips forming a tight seal around your entrance as his tongue scrubs at your inner walls, groaning deep in his throat as he tastes you for the first time.

“Taste so fucking good, baby,” he moans against your folds. “Best I’ve ever tasted.”

“No, Dave, stop,” you beg, weakly pushing at one of his shoulders with your free hand, so overstimulated it hurts. Between him and Max, they’ve already done a number on you today, and Dave hasn’t even properly fucked you yet. Your words don’t make Dave stall, however; if anything, he speeds up.

You know what to say if you want me to stop. His words echo in your mind as a single teardrop clings to your waterline. You could just say it, foxglove—a type of poisonous flower, aptly fitting—and you’re certain he would stop. But you’re willing to see how far you’re able to go, how much you can take, the word fading away behind your lips along with your considerations.

“Stop,” you whimper to spur him on, intentionally antagonizing him now, and he growls, animalistic, heady, unrelenting as he grazes his teeth over your sensitive nub, making you cry out before returning to his previous task of eating you out like a man starved.

It isn’t long before he drags a third orgasm out of you, your hips bucking completely off the bed to chase the fleeting stimulation, his name a chant on your tongue. Your fingers curl into the sheets to anchor yourself.

Dave falls back on his calves, chest heaving as he takes a moment to collect his breath, likewise allowing you to catch yours.

He runs a hand over his face, wiping away the sweat that wants to fall. He often stopped using his air conditioning after summer, and he’s feeling the effects now as perspiration beads up and rolls down his back.

“Are you ready for my cock?” he asks, his face cast in shadow, lending him an insidious appearance. It makes you shiver.

“Yes. Need your cock in me,” you whine, knowing how sore you’ll be after this, how sore you are now. You can’t find yourself able to care.

Dave rises, one hand on his hip, cock pulsing and leaking with arousal at the chance to fully bury himself in you. He goes over to the side of the bed, hauling you up the rest of the way by your arm, which makes you yelp.

He takes the phone from you and places it on the nightstand, angling it so that it faces the bed. You aren’t sure how much you were able to capture with his head between your legs, so you’re happy to be relieved of film maker duty.

He’s on top of you an instant later, shorts somehow shed in a frenzy of movement, lining himself up at your entrance and then pushing inside in one smooth, devastating go. His head rocking back to slump against his shoulders at how amazing you feel, how tight you are for him despite being with Max, how subservient you’ve been and how well you’re taking him. It takes every fiber of his being not to offload into you on the first thrust.

His hands lace around your throat as he begins to pump, squeezing into the meat of your neck. “Look at me,” he snarls.

You look up at him, brown eyes shifted to black, a dark band of shadow covering his visage, making him seem that much more sinister. He isn’t fully railing into you yet, but he isn’t exactly going easy on you, either, every thrust into you more tender than the previous.

“Open your mouth for me like the whore you are,” Dave commands, tightening his grip until the edges of the room start to blot away. “And stick out your tongue.”

Your lips part and you curl your tongue outward, thinking you know what’s coming, but still being taken aback when you feel a thick glob of saliva land directly onto your waiting tongue. You don’t give him a chance to tell you to swallow; you do it on your own, opening wider for more.

“Does my little slut want seconds?” Dave asks, and you nod. He smirks, spitting directly into your mouth again, watching intently as you swallow. “Filthy. Should make you eat my cum, too.”

You nod in wanton agreement, but you’re unable to speak with his massive hands digging into your windpipe as they are. The flash in his gaze tells you his understanding, though, and he starts fucking you harder, instructing you to lift your legs so he can slam into you as deep as he possibly can, the head of his dick knocking at the delicate spongy area at the back of your tunnel.

And then a fourth orgasm rolls over you, vision fading away momentarily as your head rocks back against the pillow, choked cry clawing its way out of your throat.

You aren’t sure how much more you can take, which Dave must admit is more than he expected you to. Your body is numb and your head is pounding; you hope for your sake he cums soon.

He loosens his hold on your neck, and you’re able to breathe again, chest rising and falling rapidly beneath him as you catch up. He taps the side of your face, softly, almost affectionate in comparison to how hard he slapped you before. Then he pulls out of you, wrapping his hand around his thick cock, slowly pumping himself with your slick and cum.

“Maybe I won’t spill into that pretty little whore mouth of yours,” he muses. “Maybe I should take your tight little asshole instead.”

Your heart palpitates faster, eyes going wide. You’ve never done anal more than just a finger or two and Dave is so girthy—the idea gives you pause, admittedly.

Dave expects you to say no. Like, actually say no, this time. The veins running the length of his shaft pulsing as he imagines how your ass would feel sheathed on his cock, but he isn’t pressing the issue, so he’s more than pleasantly shocked when you don’t abstain.

“Okay,” you mumble, hardly above a whisper. “Need you to fuck my ass, Dave.” You look up at him through your lashes and it stirs something primal in him, hearing those words come from your sweet mouth.

He wastes no time in flipping you over, pulling you up to your knees as he notches himself at your star of muscle.

“Have you ever done it before?”

“N-never, no. Just fingers,” you admit, biting back your trepidation.

“I’ll start off slow, then. Get you nice and stretched out. But I won’t be able to control myself for long, knowing I’m the first one who gets to claim your ass. I won’t go easy on you after that point.”

You swallow and nod. The alcohol will definitely help to loosen things up, but you aren’t sure how much.

Dave tilts your hips up, spreading your cheeks to spit directly onto the ring of muscle. He slips a thumb inside, pumping it easily a few times, groaning at how you squeeze him.

“So tight,” he growls. “Going to feel so fucking good.”

He slides his thumb out and spits again, first at your entrance and then into his palm, smearing the cocktail of saliva, slick and precum over himself. He grips your cheeks and spreads you open as wide as possible, positioning his head between them.

He starts to push slowly inward, the initial stretch painful, your vision temporarily reduced to nothing, tears stinging your eyes. It’s so much. He’s so much.

In spite of yourself, you do your best to relax, regulating your breathing and slackening your muscles. It seems to help as he claims another inch of you with a throaty reverberation. “Doing great, baby.”

You moan, an amalgamation of pleasure and pain when he pushes in about halfway, filling you in ways you never could have imagined. He pumps his hips languidly as he continues to gain ground, parting you slowly around his length, molding you into a desired shape for him, until he eventually bottoms out with a visceral groan.

“Fuck,” he pants. “So fucking perfect.”

He holds there a moment, relishing how fucking amazing you feel strangling his cock, knowing it won’t take much from this point to send him hurtling over the edge; he’ll have to make sure it counts.

He ruts into you a few times, gingerly, opening you further to ensure you have ample time to mentally prepare for the impending onslaught.

“How does it feel?” he asks, kneading your hips under his hands.

“G-good, so f-far,” you reply. “Okay.”

“That’s too bad,” Dave tuts. “We’ll have to fix that, won’t we, darling?”

He plants a hard smack to your ass, causing you to arch involuntarily with a high keening yelp, rocking you back into him as a dagger of pain courses through you. Dave grunts, snapping his hips into you, and you yelp again.

“That’s it, sweetheart. That’s it.”

He flattens his palm over where he made contact to soothe the hurt, but before you can settle he strikes you again, harder than before, gripping your hips with enough force to bruise as he begins riding you rough and frenzied, bucking his hips against yours.

His hand snakes around to your front and finds your swollen and overworked clit, administering quick tight circles to the delicate bud. Your initial instinct is to push him away, tell him to stop, and you do. You cry out for him to stop, because it’s so much, he’s so much, forgetting in your haste that it only spurs him on, makes him want you more. And it’s so much that he’s literally fucking you senseless, unable to breathe or even think.

Despite everything, that familiar tickle begins to build low in your abdomen again, the noises you make with every thrust inhuman and supplicant. You want him to stop but you don’t. You don’t know how much more you can withstand but at the same time want him to use you all night.

Dave rumbles from the depths of his chest, completely feral as he ruts into your ass, the noises you’re making driving him to the brink of insanity, the same ones you’d made earlier for Max. And he can feel his climax building, listening to your salacious inhuman noises, envisioning Max fucking you in your apartment and how much you’d fallen apart for him. And subsequently four times so far with himself.

“Whose ass is this?” Dave snarls, spanking you again, leaving an imprint of his hand behind.

“Yours, Dave, yours!” you cry.

“That’s right. No one else’s. Just mine. All mine,” he grunts. “Cum for me, baby. Need you to cum as I rail your ass.”

“I can’t, Dave, it’s so much…” you whine. Everything is disorientating. You’re glad you have tomorrow off because you aren’t certain you’ll be able to walk after this.

“Yes you can. Cum for me. Last one.”

He flicks the pads of his middle and index fingers over your clit, and when you think it isn’t going to be possible, another orgasm burns through you like a powder keg, your walls clamping down around nothing as Dave spears himself repeatedly into you. You see stars, crying out his name as your arms give out beneath you, the upper half of your body slumping into the bed.

Dave snaps his hips once, twice, three times more and then he’s cumming hard with a deep, animalistic snarl, pumping himself deep as he uses you to milk every last drop of himself.

He eventually slows to a halt, both of you panting hard, covered in a thin sheen of perspiration, your bodies like jello as you sink in tandem to the mattress below. Dave pulls out of you, rolling onto his back as he pants up at the ceiling.

He takes a moment to catch his breath and bearings before he scoots off the bed, checking to make sure you’re okay as he turns off the camera on his phone and then heads to the small en suite bathroom, the only one in the apartment. He starts the warm tap and retrieves a wash rag from the basket he keeps by the sink, running it under the water until it’s pleasantly warm.

He returns to you a moment later to find you already halfway to dozing, looking at him through sleepy, half-lidded eyes. It stokes something in the cold cockles of his heart seeing you like this, running an affectionate hand up the back of your thigh as he approaches you. “Here, open up.”

You hardly have any cognition left, yet you somehow manage to comprehend, spreading to allow him to clean you. The warmth of the rag is relieving against your sore and tender parts, and when he feels you’ve been sufficiently looked over, he seats himself next to you, brushing your hair from your eyes.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Mmhm,” you manage weakly, unable to keep your eyes open now. “Jus’ tired.”

“Rest,” Dave says, stroking along the edge of your jaw with his thumb. “You’ve earned it.”

He watches you a moment longer as you drift off, leaving your side only when he’s sufficiently sated on the image of you in his bed to go clean himself up in the bathroom. While he’s in there, he can’t help but think that being able to fuck you should have scratched that itch, scratched it enough that he could move past you, but now that he’s had you—he feels it growing even more restless than before, contorting into some kind of twisted, dangerous animal. He fears the things he would do for you. To you.

He needs to remember you like this. All fucked out and beautiful in your post-coitus glow, one hand rested under your cheek. He goes back to you, grabbing his phone to snap a picture of you. And then several more.

He has to see his daughters this weekend so his time with you is fleeting. And he won’t be around immediately after either, since he’s decided to make a little impromptu trip up to New York to pay a friendly visit to your ex.

He rejoins you in the bedroom, flipping on the wall unit air conditioning before sliding into bed next to you, wrapping you in his arms as he places kisses where he left marks on your neck. You utter a small, chirping sound, settling into his arms as the rest of your mind slips away to sleep.

——

You aren’t sure how long you were out.

Your mouth is parched and you’re simultaneously freezing and burning up, a layer of sweat between your bodies where your skin makes contact. He’s got you tangled up in his arms and he’s like a massive furnace, smothering you with his impressive body heat.

But the A/C is also going and everywhere the air touches is freezing, your skin bubbling with goosepimples.

You shift, hoping it will rouse him. You need to get home. When it doesn’t work, you move your limbs more, stretching and quietly murmuring his name. He eventually stirs, looking down at you with sleepy baby cow eyes, somehow soft in their regard of you, despite every debauched and depraved thing he did.

“Dave, I need to go.”

He frowns. He has to leave tomorrow morning for Virginia, but he was hoping you’d stay, wanting your face to be the last he sees before then.

“Spend the night. I make a mean bowl of cereal,” he jokes, the edge of his lip quirking up. “Or we can order in.”

You deliberate on it. Dave absolutely wrecked you, brought you the brink of losing yourself several times, frightened you and hurt you. You let him. You wanted it—you liked it. And you like him.

But your ex ruined you in the worst of ways. Things had moved quickly with him, you being absolutely starstruck in love from the start, and look where it got you. As much as you like Dave, you fear history repeating itself. You barely know him. You can’t risk going down the same road again.

“Next time,” you offer as compromise. He doesn’t do anything to hide his disappointment, but he nods in confirmation anyway. As much as he needs you to stay, he doesn’t want to push you away with his neediness.

“Next time,” he repeats with a nod. “Sure.”

You get up to use the rest room, slipping back into your clothes, checking yourself out in the mirror as you do so and notice how you’re absolutely riddled with marks. You can hide out in your apartment tomorrow, sure, but you aren’t sure what you’ll do for work. Wear a scarf, maybe.

“Let me walk you home,” Dave says as you gather your things, taking the grocery bag from you, even though it really isn’t that heavy. You lift heavier boxes of coffee at work, after all. “Please.”

“Dave,” you say with a laugh, “I live, like, a hundred feet from you.”

He offers a weak, nervous laugh of his own in response. He really is a man split right down the middle, personality wise. A study of duality. “I know. It’s just proper.”

You don’t fight it. You’re already turning down his request to stay; may as well give him this one. “Sure. Come on.”

He walks you down with his hand planted in the small of your back, gingerly stroking as you make your way outside. The air is stagnant and quiet, the faint sounds of traffic somewhere in the distance.

You reach the door of your building and turn to face Dave with a shy smile, your cheeks heating. You aren’t sure why, after what you let him do to you. “Well, this is me.”

“Yeah,” he says with a breathy laugh, placing his hands on his hips and looking you over. “I can walk you inside, if you want.”

“I think I can manage,” you reply with a smile. “Thanks, though. And thank you…for everything.”

As he passes you the bag, something else unspoken passes between the two of you, Dave rushing into you to plunge his tongue past your teeth, licking broad strokes into your mouth. You moan and sink your fingers into his hair without even thinking about it.

Fuck, he’s going to miss you.

He was hard again the moment you woke up naked in his arms, and he’s even harder now as he presses into you, cock twitching to feel you again.

“I have to go,” you plead against his lips. “I’ll see you this weekend. Promise.”

He frowns. He never told you about his daughters. Or his divorce. Now probably isn’t the most opportune time to bring it up, either.

“I’ll be out of town until next week,” he says. “But after. Yeah.”

It tugs at something in you, hearing his voice drop like that. You decide to compromise once again by offering your phone number up as penance.

“So, we’ll still be able to talk,” you say.

“Yeah. Sounds good.” He smiles, even though he doesn’t exactly feel up to it, the corners of his eyes wrinkling into crow’s feet.

“And bring me back a souvenir from wherever you’re going,” you say in jest. “I’m kidding, by the way. Don’t.”

He chuckles. “I’ll bring you back a “‘Virginia is For Lovers’ shirt,” he responds.

“Virginia? Nice.” You nod. “But seriously, don’t. And have a nice trip.”

“I’ll try,” he admits. And then he kisses you again, less aggressively this time, hand trailing down to the curve of your buttock, resting there, but not squeezing. It’s taking everything in him not to pull your shorts down and fuck you within an inch of your life, again, in the open like this. But he refrains.

“Talk to you soon, Dave,” you say as you take a step away from him, punching in the door code on the keypad. Dave watches your fingers move, tucking the number away for later use. 6435#. Easy enough.

“Soon,” he agrees. “Have a good night,” he says, his voice dropping to an affectionate octave when he says your name.

He watches you go. Watches you leave him. He swallows back his pride, knowing he hasn’t driven you away fully yet, but more than a little concerned he doesn’t have you exactly where he wants you.

He returns to his apartment alone, which already feels empty without you.

He knows it will be impossible to sleep right now. He brews himself a cup of Earl Grey and takes it over to his computer, the screen shining a bright white in his irises as he sits down to do some digging on Jonathan. He has enough information to go on; now it’s just a matter of filling in the gaps.

He can’t wait to pay your ex a visit.

——

Max surprises himself when his heart drops at not seeing you at the shop the next day.

Maurizio is there, whom he greets unenthusiastically, his ex-schoolmate little more than an acquaintance at this point, but the interaction is amiable enough. And some kid with a face full of piercings manning the counter who’s maybe all of eighteen at best, as far as Max can tell.

At least that pink haired bitch isn’t working today, Max thinks.

He orders a large Americano and a cookie to go, his usual order. He asks if you’re working today. The metal-faced kid—whose name tag says Vincent, and whom he recognizes from yesterday—tells him you’re off today.

“Thanks.” Figures you wouldn’t be here. For whatever reason he can’t seem to fathom, he hasn’t been able to get you off his mind since yesterday. Even wore the same tie as a reminder, which is something that meticulous, obsessed-with-his-own-appearance Max does not do. Ever.

He takes his Americano and cookie and leaves, thinking about you on his way to work as he takes small sips of the subpar coffee. He wonders what you do in your free time. What you’re doing now.

He thinks, perhaps, he’ll drop in after work. He knows where you live now, after all.

He can’t wait to see your face when he shows up unannounced at your door.

@ohheypedrito @kateispunk @survivingandenduring @oberynslady @chronically-ghosted @onmysluttyknees @kellybelly1978 @annieispunk @sarap-77

Enjoy! 😘

[spiderlandry]

when the sun leaves me — quinn bailey

Description: Quinn finds herself often asking where exactly she stands with you. The problem is that she only ever asks herself, never you.

Pairings: Quinn Bailey x F!Reader (she/her pronouns, reader is referred to as a girl)

Content: fluff, angst if you squint, non-gf!quinn so it’s probably ooc but she’s my babygirl so idec, alcohol consumption (not by reader), kissing, use of y/n, unedited, lmk if i missed anything

Word Count: 1.5k

Author’s Note: if u recognize where the title of this comes from, u have my heart <3

Quinn wakes up first.

A weight is splayed across her body, and her eyes squint the the window, almost groaning at the lack of sunlight from its west-facing wall. The weight on her is not even, but it is you. Something weird is that none of you feels suffocating. You’re just there. It’s comforting, but she wishes you’d suffocate her instead.

Rubbing her hands up and down your arm, you stir against her side, instinctively burrowing yourself into her side. She fights back a smile.

Her eyes close for the next few minutes to relish in the silence of your sleeping presence.

Until, there’s an unintelligible mumble in her neck.

“What?” She asks, looking down at you.

“What time?”

She picks up her phone from the nightstand. “Too early.”

“An actual time?”

“It’s nine.”

“Shit.”

“Why?”

You get up, the warmth disappearing from her side and leaving the bed when you swing your legs over the bed and reach for your bag on the floor.

“I have half an hour to get ready for class,” You mumble, rummaging through your belongings to find your phone.

“You can stay here,” Quinn offers, resting against the headboard. You have your backpack from last night still in her room, so she doesn’t see a problem. “Do you need a shower?”

You’re gawking for a moment and she worries if she’d overstepped, but you reply quickly enough. “What about clothes?”

“There should be some of your clothes in my dresser.”

Your eyes narrow in confusion.

“It’s from when you stayed over while your building did renovations.”

“Oh,” You nod, recalling that week. It had been a long time since then, so the surprise is evident on your face when Quinn remembered. “Yeah, I’ll stay.”

Quinn situates herself on the side you slept on the night before, basking in the little warmth you had left. The shower starts running, and she hides herself under the covers.

She doesn’t realize she had fallen asleep again until you wake her up by pulling the comforter back, the scent of her own soap reaching her nose. Her eyelids crack open the tiniest bit and she mirrors the smile on your lips.

“I’m gonna make breakfast. D’you want anything?”

She shakes her head, “I’ll eat whatever you cook.”

When you exit the room, Quinn follows a minute after. You’re already making yourself home in the kitchen, and while Quinn comes out of the hallway she’s greeted by a smug-looking Tara. The ginger shuts that down with a stern expression and Tara subsequently backs off.

Quinn can hear the Carpenter sister holding back a snicker when she’s caught smiling at you like a lovesick idiot as you prepare a plate for both of you. You even ask if Tara wants food, and that’s when she politely declines and leaves the room, unable to hold back her laugh anymore.

“What’s with her?” You gesture to the hallway she disappeared into, taking a bite of your breakfast as the other girl does the same from across the breakfast bar.

“Nothing, don’t pay her any mind.” Quinn says a bit too quickly, but you don’t mention that or the slight panic in her voice that only you’d be able to read.

You leave a few minutes later, but not without kissing Quinn’s forehead, a tradition you started when you two got close.

She flops onto the couch with a soft sigh, hugging a pillow to her chest. She doesn’t see her roommate finally coming out of her room.

“So…” The voice startles her, and she spots Tara leaning against the wall adjacent to the sofa. “Y/N?”

“What?”

“When you said life is about variety…I didn’t know you meant girls.”

She groans, “It doesn’t.”

At Tara’s raised brows, Quinn is fast to clarify. “I mean—I like girls. But not her. She’s not a fling.”

“I didn’t say anything about a fling,” The brunette grins.

“You implied it.”

“So…she’s a girlfriend?”

“No!” Quinn threatens to throw the pillow at her friend by raising it up and aiming, to which Tara disappears around the corner. “She’s not my girlfriend. She’s not my anything.”

“Whatever you say,” Tara goes back to her room.

Now that Tara has brought it up, it begins to plague her mind for the next few days.

She starts closely observing how you interact with her.

‘Carpooling’ with you has been such a common occurrence—routine—that it’s never put her off, but now that she’s thinking about what she is to you, she fidgets uncomfortably in her passenger seat while you drive her to meet up with some friends.

“You okay?” You sense her reluctance, the way she’s practically curling into herself.

“I’m fine,” She brushes you off. “Why do you drive me around?”

“Well,” you purse your lips. “You ask me to.”

Quinn would be lying if she said that didn’t make her heart flutter just a bit. “Yeah, but you always agree.”

“It’s just—It’s the nice thing to do.” You shrug. Your hesitation to say that isn’t lost on her. At all.

“Is it?” She questions, more for herself than you. She regains confidence at the thought of you being nervous around her, too. “Do you drive everyone around?”

“You’re the only one who asks.”

The rest of the ride is silent, with Quinn contemplating whether that’s the truth, and you keeping your eyes on the road, a little more focused than usual.

She isn’t always like this. She’s never like this, actually. There has never been anyone who made her lose her typical flirty persona, not even an actor who had once hit on her at a bar, nobody except for you. There’s something about it that’s thrilling, to know there’s someone that can make her feel so differently than the others, but there is no coin without two sides. The other side to this—the con—is that she’s at a disadvantage. Feeling like this is to be vulnerable.

For the entire week, you continue daily life while Quinn is left to wallow in her own thoughts. She doesn’t think you’d ever notice until you actually corner her at a party and demanded answers.

You’re rarely at parties. But Quinn is here, so you’re here. You don’t physically corner her, but it’s basically the same thing when you catch her coming out of the bathroom in the random frat house.

“Hey,” you catch her by the wrist. “Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?” Throughout the night, it’s clear that she’d been making an effort to stay out of your way, and a heart constricts within her ribcage when she sees the hurt look on your face.

“What do you mean?” She squeezes between the mass of moving bodies against the pink and purple lights, and you’re desperate to follow her.

You don’t corner her. You leave an opening, a way out if she so diligently wishes. But she knows now, with how you are, that if she leaves, you’ll take it as an answer. If she leaves, she shuts you out indefinitely, but staying means to open her heart to you and though every fiber of her being says make me yours, it’s not that easy. The words are molasses on her tongue. It takes her a few minutes and a drink to get it out, and even if you’re patient, you won’t stay forever.

“This shit scares me,” She finally gathers the courage to face you, and it’s a breath of fresh air when you laugh. “You scare me.”

You don’t talk, you nod for her to continue.

“I don’t even…I don’t know if you like girls, okay? And you—you’re so…touchy with me. Like I can’t decide if straight girls really are just that affectionate and I’m reading into it, but then you kiss me on the forehead and look at me like—like…I don’t know! And—”

A pair of lips—yours—is on hers, effectively cutting off her ramble, and within the second she’s kissing you back. It’s the easiest decision she’s ever made, and when your hands snake across her back to pull her closer, the warmth spreads throughout her entire being. Deepening the kiss by tilting her head, she grabs your jaw to keep you there, and you smile.

But a catcall whistle interrupts the two of you. Remembering where you are, you make a suggestion.

“Wanna get out of here?” You smirk, less than an inch from her lips. She resists the urge to close that distance as to not give the others even more of a show.

“Oh, absolutely. Let’s go.”

[piastrinorris]

busy streets and busy lives • ralph penbury x reader

A strange day at work gets even stranger when you meet a man who claims he's from 1926. With no certainty as to when he can get back, you decide to take him in until that time arrives.

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Tags: Timewasters (series), modern!au, slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love™, fluff, some angst, swearing and mentions of adult themes throughout, eventual adult content, alcohol content, drug content, penbury is a fanon surname

Word count: 10.6k

A/N: 5½ months. 12 chapters. 107,600 words. All for a silly little idea I threw at my friends in a discord server. Thank you for being here. <3

Also, there's a part in this that's VERY reminiscent of a certain photo that released today. (spoiler alert, it's in the chapter card lol) I swear, I wrote that almost a week ago and the video just HAD to drop today of all days, DIDN'T IT. If Joseph Quinn is in my walls, please get him out of there. That's not a safe environment for him.

“Right, so, hang about…” Connor holds his hands out in front of him, moving one out to the side as if physically placing events into a timeline. “So, back in 192-whatever, Ralph meets Nick and that lot, who we went to school with, who have… Travelled through fucking time,” he sounds exhausted just at that phrase. You nod, and he moves his hand to continue, “Ralph falls head over heels for Little Lauren. That works about as well as anybody would expect,” he raises his eyebrows at Ralph, who shies away a little. “And Ralph joins the Army.”

“French Foreign Legion, to be exact,” Ralph pipes up.

“French Foreign Whatever, yeah,” Connor nods, moving his hand again. “He hates it, he runs away back home, he ends up meeting Homeless Pete.”

“Wait!” Grace’s boyfriend suddenly shouts, waving his hands around and making everyone jump. He points to Ralph. “That’s why your name’s always been in the back of my head! You lived in the fucking Waterstones building?!” Ralph nods. “So, you were filthy stinking rich, and you left that?!”

“Well, I… I may have left out some details about… I may have… Sort of given up most of my material possessions to Laur- the other Lauren,” he gestures to Connor’s girlfriend, who makes an expression that shows Ralph she understands that she’s not who he’s talking about. “Um, before I had left. Well, after I had left for the Army, but before I… Ended up here.”

“You were really down bad, weren’t you, mate?” Connor asks, cocking his head, and Ralph cowers back into his seat.

“Yes, well. That’s all well into the past now. Ninety-seven years in the past, to be exact!”

“Fucking mental,” Scott says under his breath. “Anyway, Connor, keep going with your…” He waves his hands in front of him.

“Yeah, so, you’ve not got nothing, Lauren rejected you and you still left her everythi- God, how did you survive without us?!” Connor shakes his head. “So you bump into H.P., who brings you to our time. You get rescued,” he gestures to you, “and…”

“Can I ask,” Scott’s partner raises a finger, looking at you. “What made you take him in, then?”

You look at Ralph and shrug. “I dunno, look at him! Who’d say no to that face?” You squish his cheeks in one hand, to his indignation, and you hear the soft laughs of your friends. “But… Yeah. Once I’d found H.P. and gotten as much of an explanation as I’ll ever get out of him, it was just… So much to wrap my head around. And I couldn’t just leave Ralph to the streets, he’d get killed!” Ralph suddenly looks very fearful, grabbing a cushion to hug to his chest. “And then next thing I knew, he was setting off alarms in the flat on his first day there, so I couldn’t exactly leave him home alone, so I had to bring him with me to Anna’s that night. I barely had the time to text you lot in advance, I couldn’t exactly leave you a voice note saying “by the way, time travel exists and I’m bringing a man who was born in the Victorian era, see you at 7!” And then the days were getting ahead of me, and I couldn’t even make any sense of it myself, let alone trying to teach any of you about it, either.”

“So, what, does he have to go back at any point? To like, restore the fragile balance of the time-space continuum or whatever sci-fi nonsense this actually proves?” Grace asks.

“Well, we thought so, and that’s why we were always so vague about him “going home”,” you explain. “But then, after Brighton, he almost - he could’ve gone home, and by all we knew back then, he should’ve -” You don’t see Ralph wince in pain at that word. “- but H.P. tol- well, told,” you hold up your fingers as air quotes, “Ralph that since the others had never returned to their own time, without consequence, he decided to stick around.” You smile comfortingly at him and he reaches out to hold your hand.

“Easily the best decision I’ve ever made,” he smiles back. “Staying with you, well, all of you!” He looks around the room. “I truly… I cannot put into words how deeply it hurt to omit the truth from you all for so long, but… Well, everything just seemed to be going so well for me, for once, and I feared that… To let that slip, I might… Lose you all,” he lets go of you to wring his hands in his lap. “Entirely selfish of me, I completely understand if you all think differently of me, now -”

Anna interjects with a sympathetic, “You’d have to do a lot worse to get rid of all of us.”

“Yeah, you’re the one stuck with us, Ralphie!” Scott jokes.

“I mean…” Lauren starts, pausing for a moment. Ralph’s face goes on an emotional journey of potential heartbreak, fearing he’s lost one of his best friends. Lauren remains stoic as she finally continues, “Yeah, it’s pretty shit that pretty much the foundation of why we’re friends is a lie.”

“Literally the only thing that Ralph and I kept quiet was the whole time travel thing, because, well, it still sounds stupid saying those words out loud,” you shake your head. “But everything else, it’s all been pure Ralph. Nothing else is based off any lies, it was just to… I mean, what would you have done if he’d have told you that night you met him, that he’d got here by getting in a lift with an old man in 1926 and ended up in 2022?!”

“I’d think he was off his tits,” Lauren admits in a quiet voice, much to Ralph’s confusion. “Yeah, alright, I guess, it’s… It’s complicated, innit?”

“Tell me about it,” you reply, exhausted, and the others laugh.

“It is a bit shit,” Connor acknowledges Lauren and then the pair of you. “But we’d all probably have done something similar. I mean, fuck me, I’d probably have left him with H.P. and let him be someone else’s problem. Good job I never found you first, eh!” Connor’s light-hearted smile falters at Ralph’s fearful look.

“Again, I completely understand if any of you feel duped into being my friend and wish to use your own agency to - just, please, direct all of your disappointment towards me and not -” 

“Ralphie, babes, we’re saying we get it. Kinda. I dunno, this is all messing with my head a bit,” Grace blows out a breath, and everyone makes general noises of agreement. “But of course we still wanna be friends with you, you big nelly!”

“Yeah, we love teaching you words and things you’d never know. Now that we know why, we can teach you way more!” Scott’s eyes glisten mischievously.

“I mean, I know I’m the one who technically turned you into a bit of a Swiftie, but I’m not letting go of that any time soon,” Anna jokes, which causes Ralph to finally let out a small laugh. “And besides, whose head am I gonna pat without you around?!”

“I never meant to deceive you all,” Ralph says quietly.

“We know,” Connor reassures in the same tone, “but you didn’t really trick us into anything. And hey, it could’ve been worse. I’d rather you were a secret time traveller than a secret serial killer!”

Ralph finally lets himself smile at Connor, who returns it. He sits up a little more confidently. “I can’t tell you what a relief it will be to never have to worry about what I say anymore!”

“I mean, still, this information can’t leave the people in this room,” you explain, gesturing around to everyone. “There’s all sorts of legalities that I’ve never been able to figure out, like a passport,” you gesture to Connor and Lauren, “or setting him up with a bank account, or medical stuff -”

“I mean, surely there’s people out there who were never registered at birth or whatever, right? Maybe we just play Ralph off as one of those?” Anna asks.

“Maybe. But who do we say he is? If we call him a Penbury, as in we try and say that he’s his own relative, his last technical record from 1926 is that he enlisted, went MIA and was presumed dead,” you shrug.

“Shit, yeah, your mum does all that stuff, doesn’t she? Have a look, see what his sister’s stuff says, maybe we can sneak him in that way,” Scott leans in, and everyone else starts shuffling closer, too.

Ralph, having been sat dumbfounded for several minutes, finally finds his voice. “Sorry, but now I’m the one who’s rather lost. So… Not only are none of you ousting me, you’re planning to deceive the law for me?!”

“Yeah, didn’t you hear Anna earlier? You’re family,” Connor smiles affectionately at him, and Ralph’s ears turn pink as his lower lip trembles.

You log into your mum’s ancestry account and once again look up Ralph’s name, your eyes going wide when you see the name next to him. “Okay, so Victoria’s got about six surnames, so I’m sure we can slip you in there somewhere,” you shake your head. Having only looked at his census before, you look through the data they have on Ralph and gasp loudly. Everyone’s gaze snaps to you as you flip your phone over to show them a photo of Ralph, dated February 1926, looking exactly how you remember he did the day you met him, dressed head to toe in Army uniform.

“Oh, you could totally say that you’d been digging up family stuff and you think you’re a dead ringer for… How many generations back would that be?” Anna asks.

You count on your fingers, “Okay, so 1901… Let’s say 30 years per generation, that’s like 3 to get to you being around our age… Which would make OG Ralph your potential… Great-grandpa.” You grimace at the same realisation that Connor and Scott come to, as they point and laugh at you.

“You’re dating someone old enough to be your -”

“He’s twenty-six! Please don’t make me think of it any other way!” You wince, making everyone laugh. “Three generations of unregistered babies is a bit of a stretch…” You shake your head. “Let’s just table this for now. He’s not going anywhere for the time being, are you?” You turn to ask Ralph, who violently shakes his head, still blinking his tears away. “There we go. So, let’s just let everything… Sink in, for now. And we’ll keep thinking of what to do in the long run.”

Ralph hugs everyone goodbye extra tightly. You offer an extra apology to all of your friends, yourself, but they all echo the earlier sentiments that they would have done the same if they were in such a predicament. That they probably would have talked you out of keeping Ralph fugitive for as long as you have. That, if anything, they’re grateful you never gave them the chance to advise you, because if you’d listened to them, none of you would have him in your lives, and one thing everyone in the room agrees on is that life’s been far better with him in it. You have to practically frog-march Ralph out of the door as he starts getting misty-eyed again.

Once you and Ralph are laying in bed, you cuddle up to him, wrapping your arm around his torso. “How you feeling, now?”

“I can’t feel much less than spectacular with you in my arms, my love,” Ralph smiles as he holds you even closer to him.

“Not just all the mushy stuff, you big sap,” you tease. “I mean, like, having to tell everyone.”

“Ah. Yes, well. That went far better than I ever imagined,” he admits softly.

“Wanna admit now that you mean a hell of a lot more to people now that you’ve found the right ones?” You look up at him with a grin.

He squeezes his arm around you to prompt you into leaning up to kiss him. Once you break away from him, he sighs happily. “I suppose, it’s a comfort to know what real friendship is supposed to feel like.”

“Exactly. You don’t give up on the right people. And you’re our right person,” you nuzzle into his neck and he buries his face in your hair.

“That sentiment is more than mutual. Goodnight, my love. Pleasant dreams.“

“Night, Ralphie. Love you, too.”

The next morning, you and Ralph both have the day off, a rare occurrence that you’re extra grateful for today. Of course, you’d love to spend it doing more of what you’d been doing just yesterday, but you’d rather be extra safe and get Ralph some protection, as well as your own birth control. And you needed to go into town for some other things, anyway. You decide to take Ralph with you, though - mostly, so that you can coach him into being able to buy his own condoms without spontaneously combusting on the spot.

Ralph wants to ask his boss something, too, so you head to the old high street where his shop is. While you do love his colleagues, you know that Babs will insist on you two staying for a cup of tea. And then another. And then she’s made you lunch. And then you’re spending your whole day off at Ralph’s workplace. Which honestly, has been fun when it’s happened before, but you do have things on your personal agenda today. And then when they’re done…

You wave to Babs through the shop window when you hear some vaguely familiar voices approaching.

“Nah, bruv, I think your mate Pete got his maths all mixed up, this ain’t when we left here.”

“Maybe we’re in whatever year he just wanted to come back to.”

“Nah, mate, I told him, clear as mud: take us back to the present day.”

“Okay, but Jase, you do realise we’ve travelled back and forth between multiple decades since -”

“Shhh, shut the fuck up, someone’s right there! We should just ask them.”

“Fantastic idea, sis. What do you want to do, rock right up and say, ‘Hello, completely normal and unaware person. Could you, for no strange reason whatsoever, happen to tell me what year it is?’?!”

You’d most certainly know that voice anywhere. Looking over at your high school crush, you smirk at Nicholas, his sister and his friends as you tell him, “March 15th, 2023.”

All four of them look incredulously at you. You can see some cogs turning behind their eyes until, finally, Jason shouts your name out. You grin and nod at him, and he yells, “Fuckin’ ’ell! How the fuck are you?!”

“Yeah, I’m alright. Still kicking about, you know how it is. What about you lot? You must’ve been… Busy.”

“Yeah! Yeah, um… Quick question, how did you…?” Nicholas starts, but pauses, trying to think of how to articulate himself.

After a few seconds, Lauren scoffs, “How’d you know to tell us what the date is so calm, like?”

“Well…” You singsong in a high-pitched tone as the door to the costume shop swings open again. Ralph emerges, to a series of shocked gasps.

“Fucking hell, doesn’t he look the spit image of -”

“Yeah, if you just slick his hair right down, and put him in a bow tie and a straw hat, I reckon - Here, you wouldn’t happen to have a great-grandad or something called Ralph, would you?”

“Wait!” Lauren shouts, holding her hands out. She studies Ralph intricately, who looks as though he’s still processing the sight in front of him. “You look just like Ralph, but all modern-like…” She points to him, and then to you. “And you know that we’ve been… In a different time…” She sticks her head out and squints her eyes back at Ralph. “Are you -?” He nods, still stunned into a wide-eyed silence.

Horace raises his arms in an excited greeting. “Ralph! My boy! We thought you’d died!” He pulls him into a hug that sweeps him off his feet. Ralph hangs against Horace’s body as though he were a ragdoll, his face still bewildered. “Let me take a good look at you,” he says as he puts Ralph down, before letting out a single cackle. “Ha, look at you! Look at this jacket, these chains! You’re a proper modern man, ain’t ya, with your sunglasses and your - How’ve you been, what you been up to?!”

“How did you get here?!” Nick asks in disbelief. You recap very quickly how Ralph found Pete - deliberately redacting that he’d attempted to return home to them - and ended up here, where you’d found him and taken him in.

Just as you finish explaining, someone approaches you with an, “Excuse me?” They tap your arm, but lean around you to look at Ralph and nod with a smile, “I thought that was him! Ralph from Twitter, right? Oh my god, I wish my phone hadn’t died, or I’d so ask for a selfie with you!”

Four confused faces look over at Ralph, but you wave the stranger off with a, “Not to worry! I can take one on his phone for him to tweet, if you want? And then you can save it for yourself when you’re home?”

“Oh my god, would you? That’s so sweet! Thank you!” They gush before posing for a photo with him. You quickly get their Twitter handle to include in his tweet, and wave them off as they walk away with a spring in their step.

“What was all that, then?” Jason asks with amusement. “Ralph from Twitter?!”

“Long story. I never told my friends Ralph was from the 1920s, so they thought anyone his age should be on Twitter by now. He kept tweeting inane shit that he thought he was Googling, people found it hilarious, and now he’s sort of social media famous,” you explain with a shrug, to everyone’s laughter.

Lauren looks Ralph up and down, not unlike the way Ralph looks at you, and rubs her hands together. “Famous, eh? I like the sound of that. Sounds like we’ve got some catching up to do, eh, Ralph?”

You feel rage burn through you at the audacity that Lauren has, clearly only interested in Ralph for a chance at fame herself. At how she could so outwardly come for your man - though, granted, Ralph’s been too shellshocked to make that much clear.

You, yourself, start to freeze up as you look over at him. What if this is it? The validation he’d been craving for so long? A second chance at the love he’d felt so strongly about losing, he’d fled the country. If he was willing to risk losing it all after having his heart broken, what else would he be willing to lose to win her back?!

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of silence, Ralph takes a deep breath in. “I don’t think there’s anything more to be caught up on.” He holds your arm to smile warmly at you, “You captured everything perfectly, darling,” before leaning in to kiss you. Jason and Horace hoot and holler, while Lauren makes a disgusted face.

“Fair enough. Rather you than me, anyway, I’d probably get sick of him after a while,” she sneers.

“Good job I won’t, then, eh!” You flash a sickly sweet grin at her as you wrap your arms around one of Ralph’s, hugging it tightly.

“Looks like you really are out of a shot, mate,” Jason grins at Nick, who shoves him.

“Give over, that was -” he flusters, and you laugh, which he sighs at. “Okay, well, so as to explain myself and not sound like a complete lunatic, I, uh… Might have had a bit of a thing for you in school, but I was always too chicken to do anything about it. And even though that was years ago at this point, apparently I’m not allowed to live it down,” he forces a smile on his face, making you laugh harder.

“If it’s any consolation, that was mutual, by the way,” you smirk. You feel Ralph tense under your grip and bury your head against his bicep. “But I don’t think it was meant to be, in the end.”

“God, can you imagine, in another universe, it would’ve been you and Nick, Jase and Victoria, and Lauren and Ralph!” Horace laughs before faltering. “But then who’s left for me?”

You shake your head. “What are you lot planning on doing in terms of living somewhere?”

“Dunno, we brought some stuff over from different time periods in the hopes we could make some big money off some antique dealers,” Nick gestures to the bags they’d placed on the ground while talking to you.

“Good luck, things have changed a lot in the last, what’s it been, six years for you? Yeah, the housing market’s a fucking nightmare,” you shake your head.

“Paying over a thousand pounds a month to live in a shoebox, I ask you,” Ralph mutters under his breath in disgust. You shoot him an offended glance and he simpers back, “But I’d live in a matchbox if it meant living with you, my love.” You grin back, angling your cheek for him to kiss it, to more retching sounds from Lauren. 

“Well, I was wondering if we could chance our luck with Ralph’s place, but seeing as though our only way in would be claiming Jason’s son left it to us in his will, when he’d be older than us in this time…” Nick shakes his head, and you and Ralph look incredulously at him.

“Sorry, what?! Ralph’s place?! You mean the big fuck-off mansion they lived in? That’s a Waterstone’s now, and even if it was, there’s no way you’d afford a place like that -”

The others look at you in confusion. “Victoria told us that the house was destroyed in an air raid,” Nick explains slowly.

You shake your head, pointing towards the bookstore. “Go look for yourself, plaque’s still there, and everything. She ended up spending all the Penbury fortune, went flat broke.”

“Explains a lot,” Lauren mutters under her breath.

“Yes, well, anyway!” Jason raises his hands up, as well as his voice. “I’m on about the one that Victoria ended up getting when he di- well, ‘died’, I guess,” Jason holds up air quotes over the word ‘died’. You both stand there in stunned silence, so he explains, “Vic said she found a letter from your dad, before the place got bombed, or… Whatever the fuck actually happened to it, it doesn’t matter, now. The letter was meant to go to his lawyer but I guess he never got to give it to him before… Well,” he gestures, and you both nod in understanding. “Anyway, so in this letter your dad had written, it said that he’d bought an extra place, for if you were to ever go off to war and want a place to come back that was all your own,” he gestures to Ralph, who swallows hard.

“Father bought… Bought me a house?!” He asks, stunned.

“He wrote some bullshit in there about how it might help you start a family and keep the Penbury name intact, that your… ‘pursuit of a wife would be easier if you already had a place of your own’,” Jason pulls a face and shakes his head.

Ralph nods in understanding, pressing his lips together with a faltering, “Now that sounds like Father.”

“So, when you ‘died’, Vic claimed that she had the right to inherit that house, and that’s where we lived. And, um… I sort of… Gave you a nephew?” Jason smiles weakly at Ralph. “But he went off and started his life elsewhere, and fuck knows what happened to him.”

“Hmm, I thought I could maybe blag our way into claiming that Jase is entitled to inherit it, too, because of the family name, but I doubt it, if JJ never came back for it. I seriously doubt Victoria’s still going,” he shakes his head. “Never mind, we’ll just start flogging this stuff and go from there. Anyway! Insane to see both of you, together, at the same time, but, y’know. Glad to see you’re both well, now.” Nick smiles at you both, and you nod.

“Good to see you guys, too! Helps put things at ease that the whole time travelling thing doesn’t make the universe implode on itself.” They laugh, and you look over at the building next to you before nudging Ralph. “Hey, they could probably try selling some of their stuff to your shop, couldn’t they?”

“There’d be no harm in trying,” Ralph agrees. “Though I should warn you, the owner is a tad… Eccentric.”

Lauren scoffs, “Fuck me, if Ralph’s calling someone eccentric, they must be a raving fucking lunatic!” She picks up one of the bags and heads to the door, slapping Ralph’s arm as she walks past him. “See you around, yeah?”

“Y-Yes, of course. All of you,” Ralph smiles, shaking the other men’s hands as they all pile into Ralph’s workplace.

Your mind starts trying to work in rapid fire, trying desperately to connect dots that seem impossible to connect. Thankfully, Ralph for once manages to keep you on task, even managing to buy what you’d asked him to - though instead of working up the nerve to seek out a cashier, he’d opted for the equally challenging task of trying to operate a self-service checkout while you frantically Google every little bump in the road you come across - though on incognito mode, of course, just in case.

Once you’re sitting down together in a cafe, waiting on your lunch, you finally try and articulate your train of thought to Ralph. “Look, all you need to prove that you’re a rightful heir is a name, a story that you’re related, and three months’ worth of proof that you live somewhere. So, granted, we’re gonna need to find something to sign you up to that’ll mail you stuff, but after that, in just three months, we might be able to get that place!”

“Well,” Ralph starts, wringing his hands together on the table. “Babs was telling me something about - about the taxes she has to file, apparently there’s some sort of form I have to be given at the end of the month, I didn’t say anything because she’s the one that pays me, but she had said something about deducting it from my pay already, it’s a… System I couldn’t wrap my head around,” he shakes his head. “But she did say… That if I’m asked to prove anything about my pay, she also has my official pay slips in her possession.”

You look at him incredulously. “So, what, they have your work’s address on them? As if you live there?”

“Not quite… She asked for our address some time ago, and I assumed it was in case of emergencies so I told her, and so I suppose that’s what she’s submitted on the slips. She said that she never sends them because there’s no point, if we want them, we can simply ask her.”

You’re practically vibrating in your seat with excitement. “So, we can take those… With your name on… Make up some story about how we found a photo online of your great-grandad who looks just like you and found out he owned that house…” You grin at him. “And it’d be ours!”

Ralph deflates a little. “I wish I could share your enthusiasm, my love, but I fear our luck has run out by now. I mean, surely I’d need a legal record, too!”

You shake your head furiously. “It only says they might ask, online. And you’ve charmed your way out of identification before on countless occasions, what’s one more time?! “

“It’s just an awfully big risk, I mean, what if we get caught? What if we’re imprisoned, questioned - would they even believe what happened with me? It’s just too close to being impossible!”

“Exactly!” You slap the table a few times before grabbing Ralph’s hands to hold them. “Everything about us is just shy of being impossible. You are a 26 year old man who was born in 1901. I am someone who’d given up entirely on love until I literally walked right into meeting my literal soulmate.”

Ralph smiles bashfully, “I wouldn’t have thought you believed in soulmates.”

“That’s my point! I didn’t either! I never would have! But you make the almost-impossible entirely possible. You made an entire life for yourself here where you are loved and admired by literally thousands of people, including the most ride-or-die friends you could have asked for. That are, probably right this second, also researching how to keep you here as long as we possibly can. Who can say they’ve got friends like that, hm? You think Victoria and all her little pals would put that much effort into keeping her around?” Ralph shakes his head. “Right. Because you’re special, Ralph. I know it. We all know it. Just… Come on.”

“But there’ll be inheritance tax, surely,” he counters, “and then, what? I haven’t paid tax in… Ninety-seven years!”

“So, if that happens, we do what Anna says. Once we’ve established that you’re definitely entitled to the house in the name of Ralph Penbury, we spin a tale that you were never registered. Sure, you’d probably be lumped with a load of tax to pay back, but…” You tut out a breath as you think before gasping, clapping and holding his hands again. “What if, we get the house, but I tell my parents we’re buying it, rather than inheriting it?! Get them to give me a loan for a deposit, you use it to start paying off tax stuff, and then instead of all our money going on rent, you can pay the tax people back and I can pay my parents back.”

“It all sounds rather hair-brained,” Ralph states, but with a smile that says he believes in the cause.

“It’s completely hair-brained,” you admit with a nod. “It’s insane and out there and nobody in their right mind would actually think it works. Which is what’s gonna make it work. Right?”

“It’s just - It’s the risk,” Ralph shakes his head, but you pull his hands up to your mouth, kissing his knuckles.

“Ralph Do-You-Have-A-Middle-Name? Penbury.” He laughs. “I am so… Ridiculously, madly, insanely in love with you that I would be willing to put my entire life on the line for you. I would quite literally risk it all.”

Ralph’s ears burn red as he smiles bashfully. “And you call me the hopeless romantic.”

“God, I know. I guess you’ve corrupted me, too,” you pull a face, and he laughs.

“You’re right, though. What sort of man would I be if I didn’t heed my own word? Though I may have far less to put on the line… I would do anything for you, my love. As long as I still have you, I will have everything.”

“Trust you to out-fluff me,” you smirk. “So, you’re willing to give it a shot?”

He takes a deep breath in, and finally nods. “Very well. Whatever happens, we shall have each other, always.”

You kiss his hands again with a grin. “Always.”

~~~

The clang of metal against metal as the door shuts behind you makes you jump out of your skin. “Jesus fucking Christ, warn someone when you’re doing that, won’t you?” you glare over at the uniform-clad man as he wrenches his key out of the lock.

“If it’s too loud for your delicate little ears, sunshine, don’t stay so close,” he sneers.

“Got no choice, have I?” you ask, rolling your eyes and gesturing down, and an almost wicked smile creeps along the man’s face.

“That’s what you get, ending up in a place like this where people like you don’t belong,” he tuts, shaking his head. “If you can’t hack it…”

“Oi, dickhead,” a voice calls from behind you. “You’re all done, now, ain’t ya? If you want to keep that face of yours arranged the way your mother made it, you’ll jog on.”

He looks at you with a smug frown, waggling his eyebrows, “That really the sort of thing you want to be known for? Dangerous reputation around these parts.”

You groan, leaning down to press your forehead into the knuckles holding your car door open as you’re standing halfway in it. “Just get that lorry of yours out of my parking space before I get done for being on double yellow lines, yeah?” The man kisses his teeth as he clambers back into his vehicle and drives away. You pull a face as you put on a mock voice, “‘Get a man with a van’, they said. ‘It’ll make your move so much easier’, they said. Prick. Thanks for helping me deal with him,” you simper at Ralph’s friend Charlotte as she scoops up a box from the pavement.

“Yeah, well. Someone’s gotta put pricks like that in their place, and it sure as shit ain’t our Ralphie,” she scoffs, and you chuckle. "Want me to go grab him so you lovebirds can say goodbye?” She says in a joking tone, pulling a kissy face at you.

You laugh, “Says the person who can’t go twelve seconds without sucking on Yankee-Doodle’s face in there,” you waggle your eyebrows.

“You’re lucky I like you, d’y’know that?” she teases, sticking her tongue out at you before turning on her heel, laughing as she faces away from you and sees Ralph emerging out from the front door of his townhouse. She wolf-whistles as the two cross paths, which Ralph looks very confused at, to your amusement.

“Sorry I have to go into work,” you pout your lower lip out in a frown as he approaches you. “They’re just so short-staffed, and I -”

“Don’t you fret, my love,” he interjects, leaning in to press a quick peck to your lips. “You must go where you are needed. Not to worry, we will remain hard at work here, and then when you return, you can relax in your new, furnished home.”

“Our home,” you correct him. “It is yours, after all. I just can’t believe that this is all real.”

“I’ve felt that way for some time, myself,” Ralph admits softly, stroking your cheek with the backs of his fingers, and you feel yourself physically melt against your car door.

“Right, I’m going before I end up feeling even worse about leaving you guys behind.” You pull Ralph in for another, longer kiss, carding your fingers through his curls as he cradles the back of your neck. A laugh bubbles between your lips as you murmur against him, “This isn’t helping!”

“Ah, what’s one more minute of them not having you?” he smiles coyly at you, and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“What if they said that about me coming back home to you, hm?”

Reluctantly, Ralph steps away. “Very well. Have a wonderful day, darling. Travel safely.”

You turn your nose up and shake your head. “Nah, think I’m gonna finally live life on the edge today.” Ralph gives you a look that tells you he isn’t amused, and you grin back, blowing him a kiss. “Be good!”

“When aren’t I?!”

~~~

You’re not sure that you’ll take the train every time you have to go to work, now; despite it being quicker, having to actively pay both ways and being sandwiched amongst so many people just doesn’t seem worth it. Still, today of all days, you wanted to get home as quickly as you could, despite all the local landmarks tempting your inner tourist. You’ve got all the time in the world now to explore them, and besides, it’d be far more entertaining showing them all to Ralph.

You unlock the door and are immediately greeted by the smell of something cooking, something really good. You step through the hallway and into the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe as you watch Ralph reading from a recipe book, squinting close to the page as he drags his finger across each line of his next instruction, his mouth moving along with every word. "Looks like you could do with some glasses," you pipe up, and Ralph yelps in surprise as he looks up at you.

"Hello, my love! Welcome home! Um, I didn't hear you come in, my apologies, I'd have met you at the door if I'd have known."

"It's okay," you soothe as you stride over to him, pulling him into a deep kiss. "What's this in aid of, is everyone staying for dinner?" A pang of disappointment strikes your chest. As much as you love yours and Ralph's friends, you were sort of hoping to have your first night in the new house alone with him.

"Not tonight, darling, this is in aid of you!" Ralph smiles over at you. "Since I have been learning, and you have been working so hard at your shop, especially juggling it all with sorting out the house and you've still been the one to make countless meals for us, I thought I would try and make your favourite meal."

You let out a small, happy whimper, kissing his cheek. "As long as it hasn't been stressing you out. Do you want any help?"

"Well, I suppose now that you mention it, I do need somebody to stand right there and just look casually beautiful, and - well, would you look at that, you're a natural!" He beams over at you, leaning in to kiss you again.

You grin bashfully, hiding your face in his shoulder. "God, look at what you've done to me! You've made me all mushy and shit."

"Happy to help, my love," he smiles, pressing one more kiss to your head before returning to his recipe.

"Sure you don't want me to help? Read things out or anything? I don't want you straining your eyes," you frown.

"Well, it's not as though I can get my eyes tested, is it?" he asks as he continues preparing food.

"But if it's just a case of reading close-up, you can get reading glasses over the counter in the shops," you explain.

"But aren't glasses rather… Unseemly?" he asks with knitted brow.

You shake your head. "If anything, the right ones would make you appear very, very… Seemly," you pull a face, not knowing if that was the correct term to use or not, and Ralph laughs gently.

"Just go and get comfortable, my love. I will call for you when dinner is served."

"Oh, yeah, forgot we have a dining room with a table, now," you smirk. "Just look at us, living the high life!"

Ralph gasps, "Oh, speaking of! Hannah left us a housewarming gift, she donated her tee-vee so that we could have one in our bedroom, as well!"

The way Ralph elongates the letters in TV so deliberately will never not charm you. "That was nice of her! How come?"

"She's moving in with that girl she met last month. All seems a bit fast-moving, if you ask me."

You look at him incredulously. "Look who's talking!"

"Yes, Hannah did point out something similar to me," he admits, ears blushing. 

You chuckle as you navigate your way through to your new bedroom. It seems strange, your familiar furniture against such an unfamiliar backdrop. Every room looks so dated - naturally, it hadn't been touched since the 50s, apparently. Still, that Pinterest board you've been working on for years is finally going to go to good use.

Your heart swells when you see the bed littered with rose petals, a classic touch that has Ralph written all over it. You explore all the dressers and wardrobes in the room, familiarising yourself with where Ralph and your friends have decided to unpack your things. You open up your underwear drawer, thumbing across the carefully-arranged bras with a smile. Finding a particularly intricate number, you fish for its matching underwear, and decide to change into it. Ralph did ask you to slip into something more comfortable, right? You find something flattering to put over the whole set and rejoin him downstairs.

He's stirring something in a pan, looking rather proud of himself, when you get back to the kitchen. This time, you tap your knuckles against the door to make your presence known, so as not to surprise him. However, once he sees you, Ralph immediately drops the utensil he's using back into the pot with an almighty clatter, his jaw visibly dropping. You smile bashfully and he clears his throat, "Forgive my reaction, my darling, but you look positively ravishing."

In Ralphspeak, you know that's the equivalent of him calling you the closest thing to sexy he's probably willing to say. At least, for now. Maybe you've still a little corruption left in you. Still, it's enough to cause your heart to race. "You like?"

"I love. I mean, of course, I love you no matter what, but…" He blows out a breath that tickles the curls that hang across his brow. "You really do look absolutely delectable."

After a lingering moment, you manage to tear your eyes away to look at what's cooking. "Speaking of, so does this! You sure I can't be of any help?"

"Not at all, my dear, it's just about ready to serve. And just in time, so I can no longer fear about getting too… Distracted," he smiles coyly, looking you up and down the way he always does. There's something a little different in the way he looks at you, though. A different sort of gleam illuminates his eyes. One that makes you want to wolf down your food, drag him up to the bedroom and pull him on top of you.

But still, he's worked hard on this meal, and he looks so proud of himself. Though he dishes up, he still rushes ahead of you into the dining room to make sure he pulls out your seat for you, guiding the chair back with you as you readjust it and kissing your cheek before lighting a candle you vaguely recognise as an old secret Santa gift that you never ended up using, and going back for your food.

You exchange stories about your day: you, about the stresses of working short-staffed on a weekend during a school holiday, meaning a terrifying crossover of screaming babies and toddlers, chaotic children, less-than-trustworthy teenagers and overly-entitled adults; Ralph, about all the different ways your friends almost broke almost every piece of furniture you own while trying to get it into the house. Both equally stressful for you to recount.

At first, once you're done, Ralph insists on cleaning up after himself, but after a lot of pouting, eyelash batting and gentle touches, you coax him out to sit in the living room - another whole room dedicated to one thing, you've not lived like this since you moved out of your parents' - and cuddle up to him on the sofa.

Your embrace barely lasts a minute before your lips are on his, again. He’s desperate to get as close to you as he can, clawing at your clothes as he presses the kiss open. Holding the back of his neck to steady yourself, you move yourself up to straddle his lap, letting your tongue slip into his mouth and moaning at the sensation of his against yours. He echoes you as his hands slip down your sides to squeeze your hips. You buck them under his touch, feeling his erection grow beneath you.

He chokes out a soft, “May I?” as his fingers curl around to grip at the fabric of your top. You nod, sitting back and holding your arms up to let him take it off of you. He starts trying to fold it up behind you but, impatient, you take the garment from him and blindly throw it behind you, holding his face to kiss him again.

He takes your hands into his own and guides them back down, his kisses moving from your lips, down your jaw and to your neck, where he finds an especially sensitive spot and stays there, kissing it over and over again, all while muttering sweet nothings to you. “You are so very beautiful, my darling… How fortunate I am to be this intimate with you… Just exquisite in every conceivable way…" You rock your hips faster at his words, throwing him off his train of thought entirely as he sits back and watches you lustfully.

His gaze isn't trained on your face, though. Instead, he's transfixed on the way your breasts move, both from your heaving breaths and from grinding on him. Biting your lip, you wrap a hand around the back of his neck and start pushing it towards you as his tongue just pokes out enough to wet his lips. "Wanna put that mouth to better use?" You ask as you guide him closer to your chest.

He gasps in soft delight, looking up at you gleefully. "Are you quite sure?" You nod and his face melts into one of pure ecstacy. "Thank you, my love," he mutters before taking one of your nipples into his mouth. 

His plush lips press against your flesh as he kisses, sucks and licks at your nipple. Biting back a moan, you rest your hand in his hair, ruffling it slightly and muttering with a smile, “You like that, don’t you?” He hums out an mm-hm that vibrates against your skin, and reaches up to play the other nipple between his finger and thumb. You keen towards him, grip tightening and head bending down to him as you groan loudly, “Fuck, that’s it, good boy!” Words you’d never have thought you’d say in such a context fly out of your mouth so easily, and you could swear he sounded like he was chirping with happiness as you said them.

He moves away from the breast he’s suckling on, pressing one more brief peck to your wet, hardened nipple, and starts to focus on the other, still brushing the other nipple with the backs of his knuckles. You whine, whimper and moan as your still-clothed cunt begs for sweet release. You’re constantly amazed at how quickly Ralph can bring you to an apex few had ever even managed to. “God, Ralph, need you so bad.”

“Of course, please forgive me, got rather carried away there,” he mumbles apologetically to you, but the kiss you press to his forehead tells him there’s nothing for him to be sorry for. Ralph looks around, his brow furrowing. “Um, I don’t wish to diminish the mood at all, but there doesn’t seem to be an awful lot of… Space, here.”

You cock your head, smiling coyly. “You wanna go to the bed you prepared for this exact occasion?”

Ralph returns a smaller, more sheepish smile, his ears tinting. “Ah, you noticed. I suppose, of course you did, it would be difficult not to. Still, was it alright? Or too much?” His face falls. “It was too much, wasn’t it?”

You fleetingly frown in thought. “A little, yeah.” Your expression quickly changes back into a grin, though. “But it was your brand of too much, which makes it perfect.” You lean back to unbutton his shirt. “Unfortunately, my brand is not being patient enough to wait that long.”

“I wouldn’t say that of you, you were rather patient with me all those months,” Ralph notes pointedly, and you laugh.

“Yeah, you used it all up!” You climb off of him, slowly sliding the bottom half of your outfit off, but leaving your underwear on. Looking over at him gawking, you smirk, "You sure you want this? Not exactly dressed for the occasion."

He reaches up to stroke the pad of his thumb across the intricate design of your underwear. "Of course, you had been wearing a matching set, but it was I who became so impatient that I missed out on seeing it in full, my deepest apologies, my love, I - well," he suddenly, hurriedly slips himself out of all his clothes, leaving them in a heap by his feet, making you giggle again.

"Maybe I'll still let you see it," you tell him suggestively, hooking your thumbs into the elastic of your panties. "Maybe I'll wear it all again and take some photos on your phone." With nothing left to cover it, you watch Ralph's cock twitch at the idea and bite your lip to compose yourself. "Maybe," you continue as you slowly push your underwear down your thighs, "I'll leave a video or two, as well." You watch his face as you let them fall past your ankle, stepping out of them and walking back over to him. "What do you think?"

"I think you spoil me, my love," he smiles softly. He reaches down to the jeans he'd all but ripped off of himself, fumbling through a pocket until he pulls out a condom and starts to put it on himself.

Watching the act of him wrapping it around himself and sliding it down is almost enough to totally distract you from your initial thought. Almost. "Did you really just have a condom just sitting there in your pocket? And you make out like I'm the horndog!"

Ralph blushes, "Yes, well, I sort of… Hoped we would… Christen the place, so to speak.”

You climb into his lap, hovering yourself to line up with where he’s holding his shaft. “I like that idea,” you smile softly before sliding yourself down onto him. You both let out staggered moans as you let yourself get used to the sensation of being filled by him, before kneeling yourself up to the point where you can just about feel his tip still inside you and then sinking yourself back down.

His hands grip your hips tightly as he moans your name. You repeat the motions a few times, revelling in the way it feels to drop onto him, having him enter you so deeply and so quickly. You soon start to feel an ache, though, and decide to pace yourself, keeping him bottomed out inside of you and grinding against him until you feel rested enough to go again. 

You can see Ralph’s mouth constantly silently moving, as though he wants to keep complimenting you the way he always does, but he’s too blissed out from feeling you clench around him, your cunt gripping his cock tightly with no intention of ever letting him back out of you again. You especially try to make sure you commit the face he makes every time you pull yourself out just to fuck yourself back down onto him again, to your memory, knowing that just remembering the way he reacts to you would be enough to turn you on, if you ever needed anything to fuel your imagination.

At one point, while you’re rocking your hips with him inside you, you finally manage to get yourself at just the right angle to hit that sweet spot that Ralph is always able to find. Keeping yourself at the same angle, you move yourself even faster, moaning louder and more often.

Ralph seems to notice, and does his best to hold you in place as he bucks his hips up underneath your weight. You curl yourself forward, arms wrapped around his shoulders and face buried in his neck as he fucks you from where he sits beneath you. Knowing how good it makes you feel when he mutters sweet sentiments to you, you mumble against his skin, “Feel so good, Ralphie… You always know how to, you’re fucking amazing… So good to me, so sweet, my Ralph, no-one else’s… My sweet and handsome boy, knows just how to please me, fuck.” 

."He whimpers and whines, music to your ears as you feel your climax start to build again. “Oh, god, Ralphie, I’m so clo- Oh my god,” you groan as he starts to massage your clit in rapid circles. “Oh, fuck, yes, so good to me, thank you… Wish I could, do more for you.”

“- Already do the absolute most, darling,” he soothes. “’M already embarrassingly near to finishing, myself.”

You shake your head, “Nothing to be ashamed of, not at all, god, please cum for me, Ralphie, and I will for you, please?” Ralph completely falls apart beneath you at your words, moaning your name and digging his fingers bruisingly into your skin. You feel yourself becoming one with him as you ride out your orgasm.

He wraps his arms around your hips, cradling you on his lap, and you rest your forehead against his as you both breathe heavily, intertwined in body, in breath, in spirit. You’d never, ever thought you’d even ever contemplate the idea a year ago, but in this moment, you really are certain that Ralph is your one true soulmate.

He leans in to envelop your lips with his own in a sweet and passionate kiss before muttering, “Forgive me, my love, but I do rather need to take care of…”

You whine indignantly, but stand to climb off of him. “Suppose I should actually change into something comfortable now, eh?” You ask humorously, and you hear his laughter from where he’s throwing his used condom away in the bathroom. The downstairs bathroom that you now have in the townhouse where you live with the love of your life. This was always pipe-dream material, but here you are. Living it.

You run upstairs, taking a moment to again admire the state of the bed and think about all the ways you plan to christen it later, and look through clothes to get changed into. Opting for a tank-top-and-pyjama-bottoms combination, you take yourself to your en-suite and freshen up as you get changed.

When you open up the door again, Ralph is just pulling a white shirt over his head, and you smile fondly at his choice to pair it with a very familiar pair of sweatpants. “Those were the first clothes I ever gave you,” you recall, and he looks at you with a similar expression.

“I believe that was also what you had chosen to wear the first night I met you, as well. When you gave me your bed without knowing anything at all about me,” he reminisces.

You giggle, “Oh, yeah, you wouldn’t even look me in the eye because you didn’t want to be ‘improper’, now look at you!” You tap his nose teasingly, and his ears flush red.

“Oh, hush,” he frowns, but the air of a laugh hangs in his voice. “You really were - I mean, to take me in as you did, in my time of need while knowing absolutely nothing about me, especially after Mister Peter told you my far-fetched reasoning for being here…” Ralph wraps his arms around your waist. “Giving me the life I have now, the friends I have, the - everything,” he sighs wistfully. 

“Yeah, well. You try looking you right in the chocolate buttons and saying no to that face,” you smirk, and he laughs. “It’s like I said when we went to the inheritance people to get this place. With my gift of the gab, and your gift of the… Face, the charm, and the everything else you’ve got going for you, we’re unstoppable,” you beam.

“I still can’t believe you were able to talk them around like that,” he looks at you adoringly, and you shrug.

“The amount of backlog they so obviously had, and the amount of effort it would have taken if we hadn’t convinced them to cut some corners with us, it was a doddle,” you shrug. “I could tell they weren’t the brown-nosing type, they weren’t gonna go back to check every little part of what I said we’d set out to do was legitimately within their procedures.”

“A skill set like that is wasted on your little clothes shop,” he frowns, leaning forward to kiss your forehead, and you laugh.

“Yeah, well. Maybe it’s time I look for something new that’s a bit more local to this area,” you nod. “I don’t think Babs’d let you quit, though.”

“Heavens, no, she’d be out for my blood!” Ralph exclaims, and you laugh loudly.

Once you’re back at the sofa, cuddled up beneath a blanket and watching TV together, even though you’re curled up against Ralph’s chest, you can sense something’s bothering him. “You alright?” You ask him.

“Couldn’t be better, darling,” he replies, but the tension you feel beneath your cheek betrays his lie.

“Nah, c’mon, tell me,” you sit yourself up next to him, and he sighs heavily.

“Well, I was just thinking of how… I mean, yes, we have a house now, at least, but I’m still not legally a person, am I? I know we said we wouldn’t openly use that story about me never being registered and so on unless it were absolutely necessary.”

“Yeah, we agreed, only if you need serious medical treatment,” you nod.

“R-right, but what about the other things?” He asks warily, twiddling his thumbs.

“Like holidaying? We can survive not going abroad, Ralph,” you laugh.

“Not just that… What about… Well, we could never be truly wed, or be a family,” you hear his voice get weaker, shakier.

“Sure, we can,” you wrap your arm around his shoulders and pull him so that he nuzzles into your neck, stroking his hair. “Okay, so we couldn’t get, like, legally married, but so what? We can still use the same bank account as if it were a joint one. I could easily change my name by deed poll. We could still throw a wedding in every other aspect, just without the signing the register. And as for the other bit, I mean, you can register with just one parent and add another later, if we do get away with your story about neither of yours registering you.”

“You seem rather sure in your knowledge, there,” he notes with a hint of amusement.

“Yeah, well… Maybe I looked into it all a little.” He looks over at you with a knowing grin, and you feel yourself get sheepish. “What?”

“Nothing, dearest,” Ralph chimes. “Just seems a little… What’s that word that you call me all the time?”

“Sappy? Tell me about it,” you shake your head, and Ralph laughs. 

“It’s an honour to make you feel that way, darling,” he leans over to kiss you. After a few minutes, he breaks away to stroke your cheek with his thumb as he holds your face. “You seriously see a future - of us? With me? I -”

You pull him in for another kiss, laughter bubbling between you as you do so, “Yes, you big dafty!”

He chirps happily. “Well, I suppose I’ve a lot to do, then, haven’t I!”

You take a deep breath in as you brace yourself to potentially let Ralph down. “Yeah, but… look, when I said I was looking into it, I meant as in, like, way into our future, yeah? We’ve got bags of time, I just want to enjoy it all with you, you know?”

To your surprise, Ralph scoffs at you. “Well, naturally. Did you think I would propose to you in this manner? Without so much as a ring? Or even your family’s blessing?”

“Oh, well, that won’t take long at all,” you smirk. “I bet you, when we go have dinner with Mum and Dad next week, by the time we even tell them that we’re together now, Mum’ll be asking you what colour her wedding outfit should be!”

A proud smile bursts onto Ralph’s face, but it quickly fades. “Do you think they’ll fear that us getting a house together is too big of a commitment too quickly?”

“Again. Ralph. They love you,” you reiterate to him, squeezing his hand. “And once they find out you’re responsible for us moving to Southwark, where they are? Dad’ll have gotten himself ordained by the time they bring out desserts just to make sure you’d become a permanent part of the family.”

Ralph’s heart swells hundredfold at the sentiment as he embraces you in yet another kiss. “I suppose I am rather overthinking things, aren’t I?”

“Just a tad,” you scrunch your face up, and he laughs.

“I mean, it’s really no different than when we were living at your flat, really, is it?” He chuckles, and you shake your head.

“Except we could have a pet, now,” you muse, and Ralph sits up straight, his face full of excitement.

“Could we get a cat?!” He beams at you, making you laugh.

“God, you and cats, what is with that?”

“I have a theory,” he muses. “Since Cheese and I got along so well so quickly, I think because we were so similar, he put in a good word with all the other cats. That’s the only explanation there could possibly be.”

After a brief hesitation, you laugh, “Sorry, in what way are you so similar to our old neighbour’s cat?!”

“Well, both of us were sort-of confined to our little flats, neither of us technically supposed to be there. I think he could sense that of me when I first met him, back when I… Upset that neighbour of yours.”

“Because you burnt your toast so badly that you almost suffocated the ninth floor with smoke?” You ask with raised eyebrows, and Ralph slinks back into his seat bashfully.

“Well, I’ve learned now, haven’t I?” He points out.

“That, you have. I’m so proud of how far you’ve come,” you hug his arm, shuffling up to his side. “With everything. How you’ve learned to cope with all this modern stuff, all the stuff you never got to learn growing up, and just… I’m really pleased you’ve been starting to love yourself as much - well, almost as much as I love you,” you simper, resting your head on his arm. “Ugh, god, I really am a sap now, aren’t I?”

Ralph chuckles, pressing a peck onto the top of your head. “At least we can both be, together, eh?”

You sigh contentedly as he wraps his arms around you, pulling the blanket around to make sure you’re both comfortable. You look around at the walls, imagining what decorating with Ralph is going to be like in the coming few weeks, and then picturing the photos you’d hang on there. Travels with Ralph all across the country. Your eventual engagement photos, because of course Ralph’s going to make that moment as photogenic as possible so you’ll have something to capture and savour that memory forever. Wedding photos, all your friends and Ralph’s all dressed up to the nines, singing and dancing the night away to celebrate the pair of you. Pictures of your eventual babies, some with Ralph’s eyes and some with his hair but all of them with his warm, kind smile. Those kids’ first moments, their first smiles, first steps, first day at school.

You break yourself away from your trance-like train of thought to see Ralph’s watching you with all the love that could possibly exist in the world currently living in his gaze. “I’m thinking of the same, too, my love,” he whispers excitedly, as though he’s able to see into your mind telepathically. “I can’t wait for the rest of our lives, either.”

[bi-lavelent]

Lone Wolf (Quinn Fabray x Fem-reader part 2)

Warning: Cussing, Bullying, Angst, Fluff

Maybe I realized I needed friends. But I definitely wasn’t gonna join the four weirdos. I wanted to find a club where I wouldn’t be rejected. I went home for the first time in a week. I kept my head down and waited to go to school the next day. As I entered the school. I headed towards the bulletin board to see if there was any clubs that it would be easy to join. But the only two that I saw was the Celibacy club and the Glee club. My Stupid sister was in the Celibacy Club. According to her most of the Cheerios were in it. It would be nice to have a sister hood but maybe a CO-ED team like glee would be great. Also one where I could still hookup with people as it helped me feel wanted.

I skipped a lot of classes like usual. It was Wednesday and I was sat under the bleachers watching the Cheerios practice. Those skirts were extremely sexy. Why couldn’t any of them like a little girl on girl sex here and there.

There was a stupid assembly today. I never bothered to show up to the assembly’s I thought that they were just a waste of time. I sat outside the gymnasium waiting to see if anything important happened. Like it ever would this school was boring as heck. I entered the gymnasium when I heard music I watched as the Glee club embarrassed themselves. Did this school need to talk about sex yes. But also we didn’t need a public display to push it. Those kids needed a role model one that was older than them not that I am much of a role model but I don’t think that those kids care.

I walked up to Mr.Schue after spanish class to talk to him about glee club.

“Hello sir, I was wondering if I could talk to you about auditioning for glee club.” I asked him

“Yeah totally Mrs.Y/L/N. Come to the glee club after school.” Mr.Schue said

I came in after school and sat in the choir room. Mr.Schue was late he was talking to Principal figgins about the assembly incident.

I walked over grabbed a gutair to play well I sang Something About A Woman by Jake Owen

She pulled her hair back to sun her shoulders Took the oil and rubbed it all over her soft skin Oh I'm a lucky man She wasn't wantin' any suntan lines so she Reached back and she untied that little string And then she smiled at me

And blew a kiss right off her fingertips I don't know what it is

But there's something about a woman Yeah some kind sweet little something That I may never understand Yeah some kind of gift they're given That makes this life worth livin' And it makes a man a man Oh there's nothing like that Somethin' about a woman

I sat there for a while and wondered And she took a nap there under that summer sky And then I realized

There are things in life that are meant to be Maybe left a mystery

Yeah like that something about a woman Yeah some kind sweet little something That I may never understand Yeah some kind of gift they're given That makes this life worth livin' And it makes a man a man Oh there's nothing like that Somethin' about a woman

Yeah some kind of gift they're given That makes this life worth livin' And it makes a man a man Oh I'm nothing without that Somethin' about a woman Oh about a woman

The next day I walked into the auditorium and Rachel was trying to seduce Finn and it worked it was funny watching him walk out with his boner showing straight through his pants. It was nice to finally have some dirt on two members of this new club I was in. That way if they did anything wrong to me. I could tell everybody there secret. Although Rachel’s attraction to Finn was obvious everybody in the school knew that she liked him.

I never talked to the school counselor. The last one when I came my freshman year the counselor did not understand what I was going through. Freshman year I got diagnosed with autism. Coach Sylvester found me in the hallway breaking down when i found out. It turns out her sister had Down syndrome. She took me in like I was one of her kids as much as she wanted me to join the Cheerios. She never forced me she just let me be myself and come talk to her when I needed her. But like everything with Sue it was a two way street she wouldn’t do anything if she didn’t get anything in return. Rather my sister knew it or not that’s why she was on the Cheerios.

So When I got called into her office I was expecting it to just be us like usual. Us talking to each other about life and her usual check-in that we had once a month over school. Although when I came in I saw my sister, Brittnay, Quinn and Santana. Apparently they had all signed up for glee to keep Finn away from Rachel. Little did they know that he had already made himself known to Rachel’s tongue. I wasn’t gonna tell them anything. Until Sue told us that we were to destroy glee club. I told Sue that I was gonna help so that I didn’t get in trouble with her; but sue can’t end everything that she doesn’t like I never was gonna help her do anything.

The girls seemed happy to destroy glee club. They seemed like Sue had brainwashed all of them. I bet that they were always this way. Even if my sister hadn’t changed. I guess they were all always bitches. Hot bitches but still. Sue let everyone go.

Sue had me stay behind to make sure I was okay. With the start of senior year. She had started to help me find scholarships last year. Although it was hard when I had no motivation to do anything. It seemed like a normal thing to do at McKinley to not know what college you were going to until four months before graduation. Sue and me had been trying to find a good job for me to do. We had looked into Nursing but all the programs seemed like they were rare to get into. Criminal justice sounded good til I realized that I would have to go into dangerous situations. I might seem tough but I’m actually really soft. We looked into me becoming a pilot something I really liked until we found out that no one with Autism could fly a plane. It’s stupid you would think that they would focus more on other mental illnesses but they didn’t. We came to forensic science last year Sue got in contact with someone she knew to let me shadow one last year. I ended up having nightmares for weeks after. I had no clue what I was gonna do with my life. Sue really encouraged me to graduate but that really depends on how this year goes. I am currently 17 and in June I could make my own decision which could mean not finishing high school. That’s what I was planning to do everyone in the school knew one thing about me and it was that I was a repeating senior next year.

“How you holding up?” She asked

“Good we’ve only been at school for a couple weeks.” I told her

“I’ve looked and you have been missing classes.” She said

“Do you get on your Cheerios like this?” I asked

“Look I’m looking out at what’s best for you” she said

“ I got it figured out.” I told her

“Is that why you’re gonna have to do an extra amount of school.” She told me

“I will start showing up to more classes.” I told her

“Okay, Just know that I’m looking out for you.” She told me

Sue had tried to help me stay out of bullying way the entire time I was at school. We both knew that if I got bullied and people started looking into me they could easily figure out my mental illness. I wouldn’t be able to even show my face at the school. They bully people who don’t even have mental problems. They call them names. If anything could happen if they found out that I had autism.

[stephstars08]

Still Alive ~ Chapter Six

Ethan Landry x Reader

Warnings: Adult Language, Character’s Death, Mentions of blood, Mention of Ghostface attack, Angst with some Fluff, Past/Present Trauma, Parent Issues, Murder, Mental Breakdown, Death Threats, and Cliffhanger. (Sorry if I forgot any!)

Word Count: 2,868

Author’s Note: Hello Everyone! Happy Memorial Day Weekend! The start of summer is here and I have so many good writings for you that I have a feeling will be dropped all summer! Of course right when I started writing again I got sick! I am feeling more better so I will be back to writing this weekend! I think it’s my allergies and a small cold. I am a bit bummed since like I said before I have a slow writing process which I know isn’t what you all wanted to hear but I do it that way so when it comes to series you all don’t have to wait so long for me to write a new chapter and type it up and post it on here. I rather have the whole story typed up before I post it on here! Anyways, I hope you all enjoy this chapter and the next chapter will be post on Sunday!

When Y/N and Ethan got to Sam’s apartment building police cars were everywhere including police tape blocking off the alleyway. Y/N saw a sheet covering up a body. “Oh my gosh.” Y/N said in complete shock. She continued to stare down the alleyway till Ethan tapped her on the shoulder. When she looked up at him, he was pointing towards an ambulance where Tara, Chad, and Mindy were. Tara and Mindy were sitting in the back while Chad was leaning his body on the side of the ambulance. Y/N noticed Mindy’s shoulder was all taped up and she had blood staining her shirt.

Y/N quickly ran over to them with Ethan following close behind her. “Mindy, your shoulder! Are you okay?” Y/N said full of worry. “Yeah, they just got my shoulder.” Mindy told her. “Who…ya know?” Ethan asked, not being able to ask the whole question, but they knew what he was asking. “Quinn and Anika.” Chad answered with a frown. Ethan’s eyes went wide when he said Quinn’s name, but no one seemed to notice. “Fuck! I should’ve been here.” Y/N said with frustration in her tone. “No, Y/N. It was better for you to be at your apartment than you being here and getting attacked again.” Tara told her in a stern tone.

“Y/N.” Mindy said in a soft tone as her eyes started to water. “I’m so sorry about yesterday.” Mindy apologized which made Y/N’s eyes start to water up as well. “I sh- “Mindy started but Y/N stopped her before she could say anymore. “Hey, that’s over with.” Y/N told her as a couple tears made their way down her cheeks. “The only thing that matters is that you are here.” She told her as a small smile started to form on her face as she took one of Mindy’s hands and gave it a light squeeze. Mindy gave her a nod as her lips turned into a small smile.

When Tara saw Detective Bailey walk out of the alleyway to Sam she stood up and walked over to them. He had tears in his eyes. As the sisters talked to the Detective who just lost his daughter Y/N and Ethan stayed with their roommates. “When is this fucking nightmare going to end.” Chad said with anger in his tone since that’s the only thing he could feel at this moment. “I can’t go through this again.” Y/N said as she let go of Mindy’s hand to wipe away the tears that were rolling down her face. “I can’t deal with losing more people.” She said as many more tears just rolled down her face. “Hey, come here.” Ethan said bring her in a hug. Y/N cried into his chest as he rubbed her back in comfort. “Look at me.” Ethan told her. Y/N looked up at him with puffy and red eyes. “We all are going to get through this together.” Ethan told her as he wiped away her tears. Being in his arms helped her calm down. “He’s right, Y/N” Mindy told her as she wiped away her tears. “We’re going to find this motherfucker.” Mindy added in a stern tone and Y/N believed her. That fucker took Anika away from Mindy. Everyone knew how happy Anika made Mindy. That’s why it hurt Y/N to know that Anika is gone.

Y/N saw her mom walk over to Tara and Sam which immediately switched her mood from sad to angry. She let go of Ethan and walked over to them. “Mom, get the hell out of here!” Y/N told her in a demanding tone. “Y/N, I’m here to make sure that everyone is okay.” Gale told her but Y/N wasn’t buying it. “Mom!” Y/N hissed as she glared at her mom. “Really, I am!” Gale said trying to get her to believe Y/N and the sisters to believe her since they weren’t buying her story as well. “Okay fine, off the record.” Gale told them with frustration. Y/N looked over at Sam who made a small nod. “Okay.” Sam said believing Gale. “Thank you.” Gale said, giving Sam a small smile. She then looked at Y/N who avoided eye contact, so she looked over at Tara. She needed to a whole lot more to make it up to Y/N which she completely understood. This wasn’t all just about the book. “I’m-I’m sorry I punched you.” Tara said, trying to sound sincere but failed miserably. “No, you’re not.” Gale said as her lips turned into a smile as she lightly shook her head. “I’m not.” Tara said as her lips curved into a smirk. “Wish I was there to see it.” Y/N mumbled to herself.

“You the cop, right?” Gale asked Detective Bailey. He gave her a nod as a response. “I did some digging on your first two victims and I found something. I know where the masks are coming from.” Gale told him which took the three girls by surprise. “Show me!” Detective Bailey said stepping closer to Gale. Y/N saw the dark look in his eyes, but she didn’t dig too much into it since he had just lost his daughter. “Ladies.” Kirby said walking up to them with a kind smile. “Great to see you here because you are going to want to see this too.” Gale told Kirby with a serious look in her eyes.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

The whole group followed Gale down a large alleyway. “Jason and Greg were little Atlanta rich boys. Apparently, they used fake names to rent this place.” Gale said as they approached a building that looked like a really old movie theater. Y/N noticed the spray paint picture of Ghostface on the brick wall. At the bottom of it was the popular catch phrase. “How did you find this place?” Kirby asked Gale in a curious tone. “It’s called investigative journalism for a reason.” Gale told her in a sassy tone which made Y/N roll her eyes. “How didn’t you find it? Weren’t you tracking them?” Gale asked her. “I went through their financial records dozens of times, and this was not in any of them.” Kirby told her. “This doesn’t make any sense!” She added with frustration. “Don’t worry, I’m just really good at my job. You’ll get there.” Gale said to and flashed her a devious smirk which made Kirby let out a groan of annoyance as she rolled her eyes as well. “Kirby, don’t let her get to you.” Y/N told her as she walked along the side of her. “She cares more about her career than anything else.” She added in a snappy way. She didn’t think that Gale heard her say the last sentence since Gale didn’t defend herself, but she did hear it. She knew there was nothing she could’ve said because she knows that she hasn’t been the perfect mom to Y/N especially as recently.

Everyone followed Gale inside the old broken-down building. They stood behind Gale as she used a card to open up a medal gate. “What is this place? What is with all the security?” Sam asked as everyone continued to follow Gale inside the dark room. “It’s a movie theatre.” Tara answered one of Sam’s questions. “It’s not a theatre.” Gale said flipping on a light switch that lit up the big room. “It’s a shrine.” she said as everyone looked around the room with wide eyes. The room was filled with evidence from all the Ghostface crimes. The room was filled with clothing, items, and drawings of every Ghostface and every victim. Of course, there was a lot of stuff about Sidney as well in some of the glass cases. An old curtain with rips and holes on it lifted to reveal more mannequins with all the Ghostface robes. The one in the middle was in a glass case which obviously belonged to Billy Loomis, the OG. “They have the whole fucking franchise.” Mindy said looking around the room with wide eyes.

The first thing that caught Y/N’s attention was an outfit on a mannequin that she knew belonged to her Aunt Tatum. She walked over to the mannequin and stared up at it with sad eyes. Growing up her dad had showed her so many pictures of Tatum. Both her dad and Sidney told her numerous memories they had of Tatum. “Your father always told you that you looked just like her.” She heard her mom say behind her. Right when she heard her mom say that she heard her father’s voice say that exact thing in her head. “I know.” Y/N said with a sigh. “I just wish I could’ve met her.” Y/N said with a frown as she held everything in. She walked over to a glass case with her mom following close behind her. The glass case had a piece of paper with three drawings of her father. Two of them were of her dad smiling but the picture on the bottom of the page was her dad’s dead bloody body. Next to the drawing was the breakdown of her dad’s injury and where he was stabbed. As Y/N stared at the drawing over father’s mutilated body tears flooded her eyes because she couldn’t keep it in anymore. Flashbacks of that day started to flood her mind. “I need to get some air.” Y/N cried and ran out of the room as fast as she could. Mindy noticed that Gale was about to follow Y/N. “Gale, I wouldn’t!” Mindy told her in a stern tone. Yes, someone needed to go help Y/N calm down, but Gale wasn’t the right person to do that. Gale would just make it worse. “She can’t be alone right now!” Gale said back in a stern tone as well. “We know.” Chad said helping her sister out. “Hey prince charming.” Chad called out to Ethan. “I got her.” Ethan reassured him and made his way out of the room.

Ethan walked outside to see Y/N sitting on the ground with back up against the brick wall that had the Ghostface spray paint design on it. She had her knees pulled up to her chest and cried into the palm of her hands. It broke Ethan to see Y/N like this. He wished that there was something he could do to take away all of her pain. Ethan walked over to her and sat down next to her on the cold ground. “Y/N.” He said in a soft tone. “I’m sorry.” Y/N said after pulling her hands away from her face that was soaked because of the hot tears that were running down her red cheeks. “For what?” Ethan asked, confused on why she’s apologizing to him. “For breaking down.” Y/N cried out. She feels like she’s been crying all day. “Y/N, you never have to apologize for breaking down.” Ethan told her. “It’s not healthy to keep everything in.” He added as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders bringing her body close to his.

That was always the same thing her dad always told her since Y/N isn’t the type of person to just pour out what she is feeling. She’s always hated crying in front of people because it makes her feel weak. When Ethan started to rub her shoulder with his hand, she started to calm down again.

“Can I tell you something?” Y/N asked him as she rested her head onto his shoulder. She wasn’t looking at him, but he was looking at her. “What’s up?” Ethan asked, letting her know that he’s all ears. “I feel like my dad was the glue that held my mom and I together.” Y/N confessed to him. She always had thought that in her head, but this was the first time she had said the thought out loud. “My whole life my mom wasn’t always there for me, but my dad always kept her in check.” Y/N explained to him as her tears started to dry up. “Now that he’s gone, it’s like we’re total strangers. It’s like she doesn’t even realize what she did was wrong.” Y/N said finally looking up at him. Ethan used his other hand to cup the side of her cheek. She leaned into his gentle touch as he stroked his thumb against her cheek. Ethan was at a loss for words. Every time he stares deep into her eyes, he forgets about everything. When they are with each other it’s like they are the only two people on the planet. They started to lean in but were interrupted by a voice calling them.

They pulled away from each other to see Chad standing there. “Oh shit! I interrupted you two again.” Chad said in a nervous tone. Y/N and Ethan just stayed silent as Ethan took his hand off her cheek. “They wanted me to bring you two back inside to discuss a plan to catch Ghostface.” Chad said breaking the awkward silence that was appearing. “You okay to go back inside?” Ethan asked Y/N looking back at her with concern in his brown eyes. “Yeah.” Y/N said with a small nod. Ethan stood up first and then helped her stand up. She thanked him which he let her know that it was no problem. They followed Chad back into the theater. As Detective Bailey was telling everyone the plan Ethan held onto Y/N’s hand the whole time which really helped her stay calm and relaxed.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N was sitting in the back of a white van with Ethan, Chad, Mindy, and Kirby. Sam, Tara, and Detective Bailey were outside walking around the park they were all at. The plan was to bait Ghostface with Sam being out in the open. When the killer calls Sam, Kirby will use her laptop to track the number to see where the call is coming from. Gale wanted to come but Kirby told her she couldn’t since the press wasn’t allowed to be there which really pissed Gale off.

“So, we’re really doing the phone tracing thing?” Mindy said, giving Kirby a glare who was typing on her keyboard to her laptop. “Never works in the movie.” She added which made Chad let out a laugh. Y/N gave him a look which shut him up quickly. She seriously wasn’t in the mood to deal with another one of Mindy’s rants, but she wasn’t going to lash out at Mindy again since the last time she did, Mindy almost lost her life. She was sitting between Chad and Ethan while Mindy was sitting next to Ethan and Kirby was sitting at a small table in front of Mindy. Y/N let out a sigh as Mindy rambled on to Kirby about how the killer will most likely hang up before she could track where the number is from. “I can trace a call in under fifth teen seconds.” Kirby said as she gave Mindy a confident smirk. But Mindy still wasn’t impressed because she continued to go on about how Sam and Tara are in danger. She also mentioned this is how her and Chad’s uncle Randy died.

Y/N and the boys just stayed completely silent during the back and forth between Mindy and Kirby. Ethan and Chad just ate their food at they looked between Mindy and Kirby. When they stopped to get food Y/N just got a cup of iced coffee. Ethan offered her some of his Cheetos, but she just shook her head no. “Y/N, you really should eat something.” Chad told her as he looked at her with a stern look in his eyes. “I’ll eat when we get a hold of this fucker.” Y/N told him and took a sip of her iced coffee. Ethan and Chad just shared a look but didn’t say anything since they knew now isn’t the time to argue with her and she also very stubborn, so they knew it was no use. Y/N felt her phone vibrating in the pocket of her sweatshirt. She knew it was most likely her mom calling or texting her but when she took out her phone, she realized she was wrong.

“Um, guys.” Y/N said getting everyone’s attention. “Why is the killer calling you?” Mindy asked in confusion as she sees the unknown number flashing on Y/N’s phone. Y/N just shrugged as she stared down at her vibrating phone. “Answer it!” Kirby told her. Y/N answered the call and put the phone up against her ear. “Hello, Y/N” The voice said on the other line. “Where are you?” Y/N hissed into the phone. “I’m not where you and your friends are. I’m not that fucking stupid.” The killer told her in a snappy tone. “You do know that you’re going to die, right?” Y/N threatened but the killer just did a cynical laugh which made her blood boil. “Not before your mother dies.” The killer told her which made her heartrate quickly pick up. “W-what.” Y/N stuttered into the phone as her body went into complete shock. “You better get here before it’s too late.” The killer told her and ended the call.

“What’s wrong?” Kirby asked her full of worry. “The killer is at my mom’s place.” Y/N answered with pure fright.

*Tags*

@sweetirilly  @aqellano  @igotmajordaddyissues  @athenalive  @hotweeb  @ghostlyboiii  @marshallowy  @callsignwidow  @rolly-polly-molly

(IF YOUR NAME IS CROSSED OUT IT’S BECAUSE TUMBLR WON’T LET ME TAG YOU, SORRY!!!!)

[bonsaiiiiiii-fics]

Eggs

Is it destiny? Is it a coincidence? But especially, What should she do now that the person she has been looking for doesn’t exist anymore?

Words: 5300-ish

Genre: fluff, slice of life. a bit of angst too? cos memories and stuff…no trigger warnings mentionable.

Fandom: Thunderbirds are go!2015

Characters: boi, all of ‘em! We also have Lucille, and I sprinkled in some oc’s!

Special mention: thank you to @louthestarspeaker for lending me her Laurie, your girl has been an absolute delight to write!

This story is kinda weird, and I don’t know if there’s gonna be a continuation or not. I just had an idea, wrote it down and here we are! Nothing serious, just for fun/writing again/passing the time. Don’t @ me, if you read it and discover you don’t like it, leave it where it is and back tf away slowly. (just for precaution. moots i don’t wanna bite ur ass <3)

Ao3 link

"...Is it too late to back up now?" She asks timidly, grimacing and taking a small step away from the door. Gran Roca Ranch. At least that's what it says on the billboard at the entrance. "Probably she isn't even here anymore!" 

"Nope." Laurie answers her first question, a haunting hand hovering on the door. "This is the time to act like that amazing, confident, person that you are, no ifs, ands or buts about it." She tries to fight her best friend when she gets a grip of her hand, forcing her to depart it from the door the farthest possible. "And you- ugh!, you won't know if you don't knock!" She grunts, noticing just how strong Quinn can be. Seriously, she eats tacos and smoothies all day, how the hell does she manage to keep it if she's as slim as a twig? Genes? 

"Well I need a reinforcement taco before this!" Quinn forces through gritted teeth. "And what do you think I'm going to tell her, hey! I'm your donor baby and I'm here to flip your life upside down?" She rolls her eyes, adjusting her sunglasses. "What if she doesn't even want to see me?" 

"If she left you her address in the envelope, then I think she wanted you to find her." 

"Well, I'm not ready to find out just yet!" 

"Not that you can help it, you know. You're screeching so loud I think all the neighborhood heard you." Laurie says, hands on her hips and a false innocent smile on her face, the plan morphed into her mind taking action. "And if she hasn't heard you before, she surely will hear this now!" And with that awful sentence she rings on the doorbell, doing what Quinn tried stopping her from doing until now. 

The blonde girl, in return, starts by gawking at her with her eyes almost out of their sockets and a jaw so low you could store an entire cake inside her mouth, then punches her -not so lightly- on a shoulder, making Laurie gasp at the pain and the sudden movement. "Traitor!" She spits, just seconds before the door opens, revealing... 

"Uh..." Kayo falters, taking in the scene in front of her very eyes upon opening the door. There's two women, soft blonde waves and some midnight black locs, arms tangled in each other, more like the blonde is trying to strangle her friend and the latter is trying to defend herself, both looking awkwardly at her. "Can I...help you?" She asks tentatively, her eyebrow raised, studying them intently. The blonde is holding an envelope in her hand, and now that she looks at her...the resemblance is dangerously familiar to someone... 

"Uh!" Quinn gasps, detangling from her best friend and just smiling broadly, as if nothing happened. "Hi, my name is Quinn, and this is Laurie." 

"Hi, Quinn and Laurie. So, what can I help you with?" Kayo repeats, her patience wearing thin. Who are these two strangers? This isn't pizza delivery! She mentally prays that it’s not another string of paparazzi striving to secure an interview, them being the first two of a long queue. Even if the Tracy’s like to be reserved about their whereabouts, the paps’ job is to unveil, tell and write as many tales as possible, and this requires some great investigative skills, for example finding Jeff Tracy’s old house. It’s not the first time paparazzi are at their door, and it certainly won’t be the last.

"Um," Quinn clears her throat, shifting from embarrassed to confident, again, that spark in her eye that looks dangerously familiar. Now that Kayo thinks about it, if Gordon was to have a female counterpart, Quinn would be embodying it. "I'm looking for Lucille Collins. Does she, um, live here?" 

Now this leaves Kayo dumbfounded. 

And with a lot of questions. 

How does she know? Why is she looking for her? Could it be...? 

"Um. Excuse me." Is all Kayo can say to excuse herself and close the door in their faces, now leaving both girls with a fish out of water face. 

"What was that?" Quinn asks, her cordial smile still plastered on her face, but one eye twitching in incredulousness. 

"I don't...know?" Laurie is smiling too, holding her still painful shoulder. They both look at each other, and this is the moment when Laurie knows Quinn's about to lose control. 

"So who was it at the door? Did the pizza delivery read our minds before we could place the order?" Gordon asks smugly, a note of curiosity in his voice. 

"That would be so dope!" Alan adds, leaning forward in his chair so his arms come to rest on his lap. 

Kayo, however, doesn't seem to hear them as she clears her throat, ready to drop whatever bomb this is on them.

"Are you okay, Kayo? You look like you've seen a ghost." Virgil butts in, obviously concerned about her losing all the color in her face. 

"There's two women at the door, they're looking for Mrs. Tracy, and I don’t mean Grandma." She says as neutrally as possible, not seeming to avoid massaging her arm awkwardly in the process. "What am I supposed to do?" 

Nobody answers her, and the silence is so audible you can hear the indistinct chatting of the women still at the door, probably debating on whether to stay and just vanish from the premises from the heat of it. 

"Huh." Jeff mutters, taking the situation in his own hands. "I think I know what this is about. Help me up, please." He asks no one in particular, Scott jumping up from his armchair like it's on fire, instantly by his father's side. "Thank you, son. Take me to the door." 

"If we disappear silently, she probably won't even know we were there! We can say she just imagined it! Or that I'm the, uh, mailman?" Quinn tries, shrugging her shoulders in the process. 

"I don't think she would believe you, you're not exactly dressed up as one." Laurie counters, eyeing her short romper. 

"Gasp," she audibly gasps. "Are you trying to say I look ugly?" 

"If the shoe fits." She winks at her bestie, earning a glare from her. 

"I hate you." 

"No you don't." 

A sound near the front door, like a crane tapping on the floor, makes both straighten their backs up, standing like soldiers in wait for their general. Moments later, Jeff Tracy himself, accompanied by his son, opens the door, and the girls just...stare. 

"Uh, Quinn? I think we got the wrong house..." Laurie recognizes immediately the man standing in front of her, seemingly unlike Quinn, that flashes him and his exact same, younger copy, her dimpled smile. 

"Hiiiii!" She tries a more energetic approach. "I'm Quinn, and this is Laurie." She gestures to her bestie, who is looking mildly uncomfortable, deeming it necessary to introduce themselves again. "We're looking for-" 

"I know." Jeff nods. "You must be her daughter. Co-" 

"HUH!?" Scott gasps, involuntarily interrupting his dad who side looks at him. "What!? Her what??" He looks wide eyed at her, then at his dad, then back again at her. 

She seems to ignore his apparent outburst. "Yeah, something like that. So, does she live here?" If there's one thing to know about Quinn Prescott is that she gets straight to the point. And eats tacos nonstop, apparently. 

Jeff is silent, a pang of sadness visible on his face. "Come in." He replies to her question, stepping aside - and forcing Scott, as still as a statue, to do the same - and welcoming them in what used to be Luci's house. Scott disappears right back in, probably to warn everyone of the unexpected new visitor invading their home, or to prepare them psychologically for this, leaving the girls to let themselves in without too many ceremonies, Quinn taking off her paperboy hat and just holding it in her hand as Jeff slowly accompanies them to the living room, where everyone is gathered. 

"Holy shmeesus!" Is the first thing she mutters to Laurie upon seeing all these people, wondering just now that maybe she got the wrong house. But if she did, the man living inside it wouldn't let them in, right? She's probably not home at the moment, yeah, that's it. One thing for sure, the room is loaded with people and every single one of them seem to be looking- no, gawking, at her. Expecting her to be joking about the matter. There's the woman that opened the door the first time, the man that opened it the second, 5 other men and a old lady. And not to mention this house is gigantic. Dam, egg mama's loaded! 

Everyone is so still, the silence is so deafening, like they can't believe their eyes; she manages to get a sound from them all, a collective general gasp, after her sunglass lenses fade back to clear, not sensing any sunlight inside, revealing her warm brown eyes. 

"It's uncanny." Scott mutters, breaking the silence. 

"It's mom." Virgil backs him up, just gaping at her. She shares his same eyes, and, well, mom's. Come to think about it, she is mom, just a different smile, skin tone, and some round glasses added.

"What is this, dad?" Scott confronts their dad, wanting, needing, to know more. A perfect stranger, with the same appearance as their mother, comes at their door, searches for her, and apparently she's her daughter? And seemingly, Jeff knows about it all. 

Jeff in reply looks at Quinn, holding out a hand towards her as if to show she's there. "Want to do the honors?" 

She nods, taking in a deep breath. "So...I'm Lucille's donor baby, and I'm invading your lives!" She jokes, to then immediately facepalm, followed by a nervous chuckle from Laurie, accompanied by a head shake. "Hehe, sorry...I always joke when I'm nervous, I don't know why I do that." She first scratches her jaw, then behind her ear, handing Jeff the envelope she carried until now, covering her lap with her checkered white and brown hat. "But that's about it. The address listed in her description was this one." 

"Yeah, I know who you are already." Despite this statement, he still opens the envelope, suddenly invaded by his eldest three sons that read over his shoulder too, reading indeed his late wife's name, but another as well. "I just didn't think you'd even show up, even if she hoped to see you." 

"She does?" She smiles, her dimples showing. She unconsciously side glances at Laurie, which shoots her a timid thumbs up. 

"She did." He corrects her, the pain in his words leading her to lose the dimples she shares with Scott. 

"Um, care to explain for those who can't understand the situation?" Alan butts in, knowing the heaviness of the situation but now how to decipher it. 

"Yeah, like, we just got mom's clone and then what?" Gordon counters. 

Just when she wants to speak, Jeff looks again at her, prodding her silently to explain herself. It's her situation, and she gets to take it into her own hands as she wants. 

"So, from what my parents told me, they weren't able to conceive, so they picked out donors from both sides; Lucille was my egg donor, while Clinton was my sperm donor. I don't really know anything about them, my parents told me about it just recently and recommended that I speak personally with them first, but without them I wouldn't exist, so...ta-daaa!" She slightly enlarges her hands, waving her open hands up and down. 

"Well, you surely took your time." Jeff comments sarcastically, loosening her stiff shoulders a little. 

"That's cool! Is it something like out of a lab?" Alan asks, earning a side glare from Virgil. 

"Egg and sperm donors have existed for a long time, you know?" The second eldest points out to him in a scolding tone. 

"I didn't know about the egg ones, Virg!" 

"Me either Virg! We're not all medical like you." Gordon, as always, speaks as if he and Allie are the same. 

"Pardon my sons," this sentence from Jeff seems to override their sons'. "They're just curious about you, she never spoke to them about you." 

"How to blame her?" Grandma says, laughing gently. "She didn't expect the gal to even show up. She just did a good deed." She gets up, sitting on an armrest of the armchair Virgil sat back on, patting gently his shoulder. 

"That she did." Jeff looks at her, drinks her in with those silver eyes of his. Yep, she's Lucille's spitting image: long blonde hair, chocolate brown eyes, same nose, same lips. The only thing changing is a golden skin tone, complimenting perfectly her eyes and hair and making her look like a golden ember, and the way she smiles; even if she has Luci's lips and dimples, she smiles differently, a charming and 'I'm sexy and I know it' kind of smile instead of Luci's warm and harmless one. "You look a lot like her." He says after a long while, in which she seems content basking in the attention. She knows she's beautiful, she probably has an overly big ego, and the fact this family is feeding it is rather nice to her. 

"Yeah, Laurie says I'm her spitting image. Uh, from the pictures I found in the envelope." 

"I'm sorry, but you won't be able to see her anytime, I'm afraid." He says.

She doesn't seem to read between the lines. "Oh, yeah, I totally get it! She has another family now, not that I was her family before, but I get it, no worries. Just tell her I've been here." She gets up, dusting absent-mindedly her dress and hat. 

"No, you don't get it." Jeff is finding all the strength in himself to say the words long dreaded in the Tracy household. "She passed some time ago." He lets out after a long, painful, sigh. 

"Oh." She mutters, to then plop back down. "Can I ask for how long?" 

"Almost 20 years." 

She gets silent, a lot of thoughts whirling in her brain, but she pushes them aside for her to think about them later. "I'm sorry for your loss." 

"I'm sorry too." He raises his eyes to look at her. "She wanted to meet you, she really did." 

"Well...I wouldn't be me if I didn't keep my always being late rap, right?" She tries to crack a joke, earning a cheeky smile from everyone, even a tiny laugh from the tinies. 

"Oh, preach!" Laurie exclaims, happy that her friend finally noticed. 

"So, what is it you do in life, Quinn?" Jeff changes subject after she so helpfully contributed in raising the spirits back up; unfortunately, Lucille has always been a tough topic to talk about after her passing, and probably this is just what they needed now that they're all back together. 

"Oh, I just got into college, Columbia." 

"Ah, Ivy League! Impressive! Major?" 

"Programming." 

"I see. Well, I wish you best of luck on your journey." 

"Thank you, um, Mr..." She just now realizes she never properly caught his name, nor the others'; it sure looks like a wide family, though. 

"Oh! We didn't introduce ourselves, sorry! We were just so caught by everything..." He immediately apologizes, getting up not without any help from his second eldest. "I'm Jeff Tracy." Once in front of Quinn, who just got up too, he extends his hand for her to shake it, and notices she has a very tight grip, too. 

"Huh, Tracy you say?" Quinn is silent for a second, an eyebrow raised to try and remember when she heard that name before, while Laurie, once her suspicions (that weren't so suspicious) got confirmed, draws in a shaky breath, not understanding why in the Heavens her bestie doesn't realize how lucky she is to even breathe the same expensive air as these business tycoons. And, yeah, International Rescue themselves. "I like it. I assume you are- uh, were..." 

"Yeah, her husband. These are our kids. Boys?" He calls out for them to get up and present themselves, to which they oblige dutifully. 

Scott is the first one to present himself, his grip somewhat strong, but not menacing. He saw the description, everything true to the minimal detail, and the fact she's their mom's spitting image contributes greatly to the cause, as if she was cloned, and their dad seems to know and support of this situation; however, he still doesn't know if she's lying, faking it all, and found sensible information, touched a nerve who could bring them down, his Commander brain gearing up for action. He, alas, has complete faith in dad, and in John, who didn't go unnoticed by Scott as he briefly excused himself to go to the bathroom, secretly fulfilling the eldest' order to run a background check on her. He notices her firm grip too, complete with the fact she either doesn't seem to care, or is oblivious to the pinning, calculating stare he's giving her, flashing him a taste of his own medicine, killer dimples. Yep, truly mom's child. 

The next in line is Virgil, who takes her hand softly and shakes it gently, and she swears he's like massaging it or something, because she finds instantly relief from a throbbing she didn't even notice until it passed, truly magical. They both get lost in the eyes they both share the color of, mom's color, and both wonder how one could be a spitting image of the other. Virgil is calm, trusting, not wanting to start any rumors or thoughts, just trusting what the person in front of him is saying. Like, how could she lie with those eyes? He swears he's looking at mom who came back to life and waltzed back into their lives.

Gordon pops up next, and damn! If she thought to be Lucille's spitting image, from that little description pic, then this man is taking it up a notch! Same features, different gender. It's almost frightening. Gordon, on the other hand, is totally unaffected by any negative thoughts and emotions, just excited to hear about this new, strange thing, egg donation, and the fact that a new sibling is added to their family, even if she's just a half-sibling. It's still something from mom, and everything from mom is precious right now. 

Alan is quick in presenting himself with a fist bump, a gesture that Quinn loves gladly, evolving it into a weird bro hand salute Alan seems to be on board with, professionalism not necessary right now. After all, if she’s in college right now…same as him! They’re college buddies!

Last but not least brother, John, shaking briefly her hand and directing a hidden thumbs up at Scott, who nods and exhales briefly, his worries dissolving temporarily. 

Kayo is up, her way of shaking hands translated into shoving a tablet into Quinn's face, that shrugs and places her thumb on it, more than calm about the fact that they can't get money from her as she's broker than a broken record, having invested her last savings in...tacos. Kayo swiftly nods, and Quinn just shrugs, before she gets presented to the next person.

A sweet old lady, who seems very spirited. “Hello, gal! Well, I’ll be damned, you’re her spitting image!” This makes Quinn crack a wide smile, the girl identical in her biological mother even in these simple gestures. "I'm Sally, but you can call me Grandma. I'm the boys' grandmother and Jeff's mother. It's nice you finally joined us." To unknot her nerves, Grandma gently squeezes Quinn's shoulder, to which the girl looks at her warmly. This woman, this part of her newfound family, has this capacity to melt her worries and insecurities away in a way...familiar to her, like it's been done to her since she was born. 

"Don't blame her too much, she has this knack for always showing up late." Laurie butts in the conversation after being presented too to the boys, daring to see if a joke can fix up the mood. 

"I call it being fashionably late." Quinn replies, swooshing a strand of hair behind her shoulder smugly. 

Grandma laughs heartily. "I know a thing or two about it. Between us, but...your mother was always fashionably late too." She confesses to the girls, Quinn gaping a little. 

"See?" She triumphantly points out. "It's all in the genes!"

Laurie laughs too, looking at her bestie. “Don’t give her excuses now, or it’ll get to her head!”

Quinn is about to counterattack with a not too ladylike answer, when another voice joins in the conversation again. "Clinton Smith?" She turns to look at Jeff, which looks at the envelope then at her.

“Oh, yeah, that’s my donor dad. Or at least that’s all I know about him, I haven’t visited him yet.” She replies, looking somewhere else with a bitter smile, that doesn’t go unnoticed by Jeff.

“Is he…unavailable too?” He tries this word, not having enough guts built up to say that word, that nefarious word he wishes he never had to say to describe his wife.

“Actually…I don’t know?” She replies questionably back, scratching her neck in the process. “I haven’t been able to find him at all. Either he vanished, or he doesn’t want to be found, or…yeah.”

“Doesn’t want to be found…why is that?” Jeff asks back, trying to understand more from that situation; maybe he can help, he can ‘rescue’ her if she wants to.

“Well, there’s his name, but no address. But I suppose if he didn’t want to be found, then he wouldn’t have wanted his name to be added to that document, because it’s supposed to be for me to read once I came of age.” She plops down to her previous seat, crossing her arms with a focused frown painted on her face, the upper lip touching her nose septum, her dimples visible and her eyes looking upwards, painting Lucille’s face with an almost childish and exaggerated undertone. “I know I’m very late in searching for them since I got the documents, but if you don’t want your child to know anything about you, then…you cancel everything they might know about you, right?”

“I don’t know exactly, it never happened to me…” He replies ironically, earning a broad smile from his boys, a sign that they had a father from the start that cared about them and loved them deeply. “But if you want to get to know him, we can help you out.”

She widens her eyes slightly. “Really? You don’t have to…”

“Yeah, of course! Family is important, and if you want to know exactly who both of your biological parents are it’s perfectly normal! I just happen to know a detective that can help you out on this, that is if you accept our help.” He states tentatively, knowing he doesn’t have any ‘power’ over her, despite her being Lucille’s first child and only daughter, her only female lineage, making her very precious; but at the same time he knows that he can’t force her to be a part of their lives just because she’s family by blood, she has another adoptive family that love her and raised her to be the woman she is now. The decision to be a Tracy must belong to Quinn and Quinn only. “And, of course, I’ll tell you more about your biological mother as well.”

“Well…” Quinn takes it all in, pondering deeply which answer she should give in return and moving her gaze to the floor. She knows that if she replies positively, this means she’ll come in contact with part of her biological family again, but she also knows that this decision is totally up to her, just like before when Jeff allowed her to explain who she was and why she was connected with this family. The question is, does she want to be part of this family? She already has another one, the one that has been there with her from the start, waiting for her at home. Can she replace them so easily? Being part of more than a family at once, even her biological dad’s side, is it possible? Does it mean that if she chooses to do this, she’ll have to leave her ‘old’ family behind, or can she rotate between one family and the other on random days?

“I’m sorry…” She finally comes up with an answer. “...but I have to think about it. This thing about Lucille has been a huge blow for me, and I’m not saying this because she…well, passed, but I think it would have been a blow even if today I would’ve gotten to talk to her. I received the document just recently…and…you guys…”

“Don’t apologize at all, Quinn, it’s understandable.” This is the first time that man calls her by her name. it’s…strange. “You have yet to elaborate all of this, and we’re here when, if, you’ll be ready to talk to us again.”

“Thank you.” Quinn smiles fondly at Jeff, and for the first time since she smiled at him, it seems like Lucille is smiling at him again after 19 long years where the world has been deprived of his wife’s warm and innocent smile. Another person notices, and where Jeff forces himself to keep the tears in, Virgil can’t manage to, a single, lonely, tear leaving a trail down his cheek but a happy smile painted on his chiseled face, Scott and John reaching out to place a hand on each of his shoulders, sharing the same emotion he’s feeling in seeing that smile, happy that they got the wish to see their mother’s smile one last time, even if it’s not their mother that’s in front of them right now. She captivated with that dimpled smile of hers everyone in the room, not just Jeff and his second eldest, and she doesn’t even notice it, how similar but how different she is from her biological mother. She glimmers with that smile.

“So…I’ll go home now, I think I already spent too much of your time.”

“Believe me,” Jeff starts, raising himself up to his feet and prompting his eldest and Quinn to do the same. “This time has been very well spent.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for dinner?” Alan, surprisingly, asks, like it’s not the first time he makes this question. Surprisingly, because he doesn’t feel the same way as his brothers and dad; sure, he saw mom’s photos, but she unfortunately doesn’t have the same place in his heart like it does for everyone else of them, since he didn’t have the opportunity to grow up with her, leaving the surprisingly vivid picture of her with an eerie heaviness over it, almost as if, everytime he looks at his mom, it’s like he’s worshiping a Goddess. It used to be like this with his dad too, before he returned from the deserted and secluded place he was left in for all these years, just after mom’s death…for as long as he can remember before things changed, his dad disappeared, his mom left them, and he was essentially an orphan growing up with his brothers, under Scott’s guardianship over nothing more than a toddler. But now that he looks at things under another perspective…it’s bad to say, but she also will never get the chance to meet her, didn’t get the chance to grow up with her either, and will always look at her photo to remember where she came from…they’re similar, if not the same, in this. Maybe they can help each other.

“Yeah, we have pizza!” Gordon butts in too, visibly perturbed by her departure.

“If you remember to place the call to order it.” John points out like usual with a raised eyebrow, earning an eye roll from his younger pufferfish sibling.

“I’d love to, but my parents are waiting for me at home.” Quinn turns towards Jeff, as if to seek some approbation from the Commander Supreme. “Another time, maybe?”

He nods, waiting for his two youngest sons’ faint oh’s to dissipate before speaking again. “We are more than happy to welcome you again. You can take my contact or one of my sons’, so that you can have your way of reaching out when you’re ready to.” He offers, glancing at his sons that all nod.

“Yeah, that would be a great idea. I hope you won’t mind if I take my time in…”

“Ah, no worries! We’re more than happy to help.” Jeff replies while he scribbles something on a paper, probably his comm link or his number; once he’s finished, instead of passing it to Quinn he raises it somewhere on his right, Virgil taking the paper and scribbling something on it too. “Once you’re ready, reach out to us, here’s our contacts.” Once the paper is in Jeff’s hands again, after it being passed through some brothers, he hands it over to Quinn, who takes it gladly, folding it and tucking it into her romper’s pockets.

“Well, then, I’ll leave you to your dinner. Thank you for everything, and it’s been a pleasure meeting you.” Quinn bows her head slightly, smiling warmly to everyone.

“It’s a pleasure for us too, and it was nice meeting you too, Laurie.”

“Are you living far from here? Do you need one of us to accompany you?” Virgil asks, his ever caring spirit always present.

Quinn shoots a quick glance to Laurie, which in the meantime has almost teleported to her side; in exchange, Laurie raises her eyebrows and glances to the side, Quinn responding to her by shrugging slightly, and this ‘conversation’ goes on for a bit, all the while Virgil looks confused at them, then at his father.

“It’s a girl’s way of communicating, boys. You wouldn’t know.” Grandma intercepts the question marks in Virgil’s mind, talking to everyone.

“Well,” Quinn’s voice makes them all turn towards her and her bestie, who is smiling. “She’s coming back home with me, and we live just here across the neighborhood, so we’ll manage on our own, thank you anyways.”

“Perfect then. We hope to see you soon again, and I wish you good luck again on your journey. Please say hi to Bentley from me, and tell her I’m sorry I didn’t get to visit her and Charlie.” The procession has finally arrived at the door, escorting warmly their newfound family member out.

Quinn smiles as a sign of gratitude, before dropping her jaw to the floor and widen her eyes. “You know my parents?”

“Of course! Me and Luci have known them for a very long time now, we’ve been to school together, but we lost contact after we started working and had our children.”

“Oh…!” Quinn replies, then looks at the floor and smiles. “Sure, I’ll let them know.” She looks at Jeff with that smile on again. That warm smile that makes her dangerously familiar in his eyes.

“Well then, thank you for coming by. It was truly needed.”

“You’re kidding me? Thank you for having me!”

Once they finish bidding their farewells and the door closes, making them depart from the ranch, she turns towards her bestie, her smile radiant. “Girl, that was…”

“I’d say it was a success, but you didn’t find your mom.” Laurie counters, matching her newfound speed towards Quinn’s home. “Why are we running?”

“Well, but my parents are supposed to know her well, and I have all these step-brothers. And…oh, don’t brag.”

“We have no reason for running!” Laurie hisses, out of breath, her long locs whirling in the wind. “They can help you find your biological father too. Maybe you have some brothers or sisters from there too.”

“Well…” They both pant profusely, finally arriving at their destination; Quinn also lets out a deep sigh. “I don’t know…I gotta talk to my parents. I want to know them, but…having them in my life…ugh! I need tacos.”

“Nu-huh. We’re home now and we’re eating what your parents made. Stop spending your life savings on tacos, bestie.” Laurie ushers Quinn towards the entrance door, forcing the latter to get the keys out to open it with another deep sigh. “And if talking with your parents is what you need…just, think about it. They are pretty important after all.”

“Hm?” Quinn says after greeting her parents loudly, announcing them she’s back home. “They’re just my biological half-brothers and their dad. Yeah, they’re important, but-” “Girl,” Laurie interrupts her with a serious face, making Quinn furrow her eyebrows in confusion. “You have no idea who they are, do you?”

[quandaryqueen]

Things I'd like to do

Various Batman Rogues X Reader

My brain is composed of sludge 3 AM thoughts and this idea came to mind. So the following content are just ideas of what I'd like to write... But can't because of time constraints but I'd love to share them either way, so yay.

💚 I would LOVE to write fics based on the first song to play in my playlist after I put on shuffle. Like... Send in some Riddleman variation, then I'd tap on shuffle and whatever song is on I'll write the Riddleman with it. You get me???

💚 I would love to write a detailed make-out sesh with YJ Riddler just cos. Make him feel all sorts of thing, make him feel soft, hard just akcnsncjdocj I love him ok

💚 I want to write a Gotham Edward x reader wherein Reader shares semblance with Kristen. So basically Reader is taking the place of Isabella but instead of stubbornly staying in the relationship and dying, reader has enough self-preservation and respect to recognise the fact that Edward only loves them because of their semblance with his dead ex gf that he killed. Not yet a fleshed out idea, but that's the whole gist

💚 I'm not very confident about writing Zero Year Edward but... He reminds me of Mitski's songs, "A loving feeling" and "Lonesome love". Idk, he just possess the vibes of that one guy that will make you think you're in a relationship when in fact... You're not, and he's just letting you tag around because having someone like you reflects well on him and other thah that, he is also a sadistic fuck.

I just... The angst material from the Reader attempting to break things of with him and yet he will always manage to pull you back... I my to repeat the process until you're drained.

💚 Fell in love of the idea of including Query and Echo in fics. Expect them to appear here in the future. And maybe an OC associated with them.

🖤 Gotham Penguin having a child, and said child is running for the student council. Like daddy, they will get what they want with any means necessary... Blackmailing other candidates, perhaps maiming some of them and father dearest couldn't be more proud.

🤍 Gotham Penguin once again, I just have like the me tal image of him being a good dad, okay? Anyways, I pictured his child making him a paper crane and he still keeps that same crane hidden in his drawer, along with whatever his child gives him. Letters, drawings, flowers, you name it.

🧡 Masters of Fear Jonathan being distrustful boy towards a student that's taken a liking to them and tries his best to be as nasty as possible to them, but failed. One day he calls them over at the back of the school in private to kill them and so as he his trembling hands hold their neck, he tries to read Reader's features because he wants to see the fear in their eyes as he squeezes the life out of them. Reader, thinking that Jonathan was just hesitating to kiss them, takes it upon themself to initiate the 'kiss', leaving Jonathan shock and Reader alive.

🧡 Harley Quinn Jonathan being protective of his psychologist spouse that works in Arkham. Just, some juicy marital drama ensues.

💜 I want to write an innuendo-filled dressing room shenanigans between theater actor Music Meister and theater technician Reader.

💜 Just a platonic fic between Dennis and Reader, Dennis being at his lowest and in need of comfort. I live for comforts such as these.