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whirlybirbs · 20 days

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BEYOND THE VOID — !

1. THE BEGINNING OF THE END.

( MASTERPOST | AO3 | SPOTIFY ) summary: torn from time yet again, it's thursday. six months pass. while you grapple with a newfound uncanny ability to premeditate, loki grapples with the fact he's slipping back into his old self without you. enter brad wolfe. now playing: a whole lots gonna change by weyes blood word count: 3.3k pairing: loki / f!reader, established in from the void, with love tags: enemies to friends to lovers, soulmates, we-are-in-love-in-the-future but how did that even happen, angst & comfort, redemption arc, lots of time travel, loki season 2 (2020) spoilers a/n: finally, they return in "beyond the void". i can't thank everyone enough for the unending enthusiasm for this little project of mine. it's fitting to have the first chapter release with an eclipse. this is for all of you :) the beautiful gif for this chapter is from this set by @tomshiddles.

"Okay."

There's a long stretch of silence between Darcy Lewis and Jane Foster.

In the liminal stretch of the apartment building's hall, there's little sound except the loud drone of some horribly, desperately sad song beyond the door of Unit 1131. The two women share a long look with one another, and then Darcy gestures urgently to the door.

"Go ahead," she nudges her colleague.

"What?" Jane asks in a harsh whisper, "No, you knock."

"You were the one that said we needed to do an intervention—" Darcy argues back in an equally low tone.

"Oh, so now this is on me?" Jane fires back, "She's our friend—"

"Our friend who has been babbling nonsense about things that have not happened and has been seriously obsessing with that Low-key dude—" Darcy rushes out, bringing her face closer to Jane's, "I don't even know what we're walking into here!"

Jane inhales. She pinches her brow. With a long rub of her face, she exhales. Then, she knocks.

She gives Darcy a 'happy?' look before stepping back and crossing her arms.

Almost immediately, the music stops. There's the sound of a shuffle. A meow. And then, the door opens only wide enough that one exhausted eye can peak through the chained gap.

"Heeeeeeeeeey, girl!" Darcy chides, waggling her hands in the air, "Surprise!"

On the other side of the door, your heart clenches.

It feels a little bit like a cruel joke, y'know?

All that wishing, begging, clawing to go home and — well... you are. You're home. You've been home. For six months, you've been home in New York City. You're back in that little studio apartment, with Sigurd, with your research, with your doctorate.

ALL I WANT TO DO IS GO HOME.

You try your best to give both Darcy and Jane a smile, but it comes out mangled and exhausted and not quite right. You've been crying. Sort of par for the course these days.

"Oh, uh... Hi guys."

Sigurd meows.

"You got a sec?" Jane asks, raising a folder in her hands, "We, uh... Erik gave us some new anomaly data to look over and we figured... you're the one for the job! Y'know? It's... kinda... your thing... have you been crying?"

Your eyes dart between them both. You wet your lips.

"No. Nooo, no. It's..." your mouth hangs open as you search for a reason, "...Allergies."

There's a beat of embarrassing silence, and then Darcy moves fast as lightning. She wriggles her arm through the gap and unlocks the chain — almost as if this is definitely something she's mastered before — before pushing her way through the doorway of your apartment. Jane follows close behind, and Sigard squawks as he scurries away from underfoot.

The infiltration is almost immediately regretted because... woah.

Like, big woah.

Darcy has seen crazy. Like, she has an Uncle on her Dad's side who is totally in on the whole "they're coming for our thoughts" thing and does not leave the house without at least six layers of Great Value tinfoil stuffed under his baseball cap. She knows crazy. She works for Erik Selvig.

But this?

This is, like, soooooo above her pay grade.

Jane's jaw is slack. The folder is immediately forgotten on the kitchen island in favor of the wall-to-wall documentation of... whatever the hell this was.

LOKI MISSING? in the center of it all, with string and equations and runes and news articles and tabloid pages. There's an alarming amount of photos of the God in question pinned up beside ramblings on... Time? And... Quantum mechanics...?

There's another loooooong stretch of silence. And then, Darcy and Jane both turn slowly to look at you pressed against the door.

You swallow.

Your face is set in horror.

"It's not what it looks like—"

"Uh, dude, it totally is what it looks like—" Darcy starts, stepping closer to the board and pointing a black, manicured finger at a paparazzi photo of Loki being carted off from the now-Avengers Tower, "What's with all the Loki paraphernalia?! Need I post a lil' throwback Thursday to when he tried to kill us all?"

IT'S THURSDAY AGAIN.

You wince. "You wouldn't understand—"

Then, it happens.

The same thing you've experienced dozens upon dozens of times these last six months happens again: A rush of chatter in your mind, a cacophony of whispers that claw at your thoughts and flood them with has-beens and will-be's. A million things all at once, a little bit of everything from all of time, and then— one thread. One thread that stands out against them all.

"Jane, don't."

Across the room, Jane's fingers pause on the contact number for that pretty S.H.I.E.L.D. agent they've met once or twice now — the one who is managing the Asgardian anomaly cases. With Loki missing, S.H.I.E.L.D. has been desperate to track him down. If this is a lead... If you know where he is...

Jane's face freezes.

Her brows knit.

Your face is split in panic. "I know you think calling Agent Hill is the right thing to do, but—"

"...How did you know I was...?" Jane's voice falls off, her eyes searching your face.

Your voice splinters as you step forward. "If you call Agent Hill, she is going to section our entire division within the week. Thor will be exiled from Earth on conspiracy four days later. We will sit in a cell for five years until they decide we have nothing to do with Loki's disappearance from Asgard."

Darcy's eyes bounce between you and Jane.

"Why are you saying all that like you know it's going to happen?" Jane asks slowly, putting her phone down and closing the gap between you. "Doc, what's going on?"

Your eyes flicker with fear.

And then exhaustion. The walls you've built to keep this away from the others crumble with one worried look from Darcy, and you crumple against the kitchen counter.

Your voice is far away.

"It all started that Thursday."

You thought it would be better now that someone knows.

Truth be told it might be more trouble than it's worth if not to soothe the burden of secrecy — because Darcy keeps treating you like a Magic 8 Ball that, when shaken, is going to spit out readings on the future.

It isn't that easy. I mean, if it was, you would have definitely done everything in your power to avoid the commute traffic this morning.

You don't know why it happens. Or how. You have a theory it has something to do with Alioth, but... without any sort of control, there's no way of knowing. All you know is that in those moments, you're presented with a weave of potential sequences. And in those moments, you can choose to act. Or not.

So far, acting seems to be the best course of action.

But, yea, no. No fortune-cookie-level stuff. No crystal ball, no tarot cards. Just... weird time-whispers. And a migraine that seems to never go away. And dreams. Really vivid dreams. Dreams that happen? And dreams that don't.

If it was a horoscope sort of thing, maybe you wouldn't have missed your morning bus after waiting in line at that coffee shop three blocks down. They always make your coffee a little too bitter, but the girl behind the counter is an NYU grad student you recognized from a mechanical engineering lecture you sat in on three months ago. You've got a soft spot for her. She's always nice to that guy in the baseball cap who seems unhoused.

You hope it all works out for her in the end.

But, Christ this coffee is bitter.

You buzz into Stark Labs at 9:37 am, and you're setting your stuff down at R&D by 9:43 am.

Bruce Banner looks up briefly from his work to slide you a welcoming smile. You return it gently as you settle down on your stool and reacclimate yourself to last week's work.

Mondays, man.

Tony is, as always, later than anyone else. His entrance is followed by the usual boisterous chatter meant as a morale booster. More often than not it's a genius-level comedy routine built on absolutely torturing Dr. Banner. You opt, more often than not, to refuse to enable the bad behavior.

Any laughter is buried deep into these readings from the Tesseract.

And so this has been home for the last four months.

Avengers Tower. R&D. Erik Selvig's Research Team. Theoretical Physics and Quantum Mechanics. Day in, day out.

No TVA, no TemPads, no Sylvie, no Mobius, no Capybaras.

...No Loki.

But, plenty of whispers.

It rocks you out of your focus, iced latte halfway to your lips as you're rooted in this little pocket of voices and threads and whisps of time. There's a thousand, then a hundred, then one.

Your voice is soft.

"Bruce, try the equation again."

From across the room, Tony's voice dies down and Bruce's eyes rise to meet yours. He points to himself, with a questioning raise of the brows.

You nod, then continue to take a sip of your coffee.

And so Bruce does. Wordlessly. And, after a minute, he looks up with a grin.

"So it was right."

"Woulda never known if Iron Dick over here didn't shut up for one second."

Tony's grin is bigger than Bruce's as he meanders over to your lab table and throws an arm around your shoulder. He squeezes you gently. You avoid his eye contact — and in doing so, you miss the momentary grace of concern.

(Tony has known you for a few months now. He knows you adequately enough to gauge that your triple-shot espresso should have been a sextuple. The bags beneath your eyes are dark. There's an edge there. Something jumpy. You're exhausted.)

"Now, that was mean."

"You're torturing him," you fire back lightly, non-the-wiser to his scrutiny.

"It's called exposure therapy—" Tony croons, leaning back and thumbing through some of the notes on your desk. You allow it.

Good. Still sharp. Still better than anyone else at what you do.

"Exposure to workplace terrorism?" You rib back with one cocked brow, "No offense, Bruce, but I like you better not green. Okay, Tony?"

"None taken!" Dr. Banner calls lightly from across the room. He's working on the second part of that equation now.

"Sure, sure, alright, Doc," Tony heads your words, raising both hands and stepping back, "I guess someone hates fun."

"Absolutely," you say blankly, chewing your straw; you point at him, "No laughter."

"None," Tony waggles a finger.

"Not a peep," you remark causally as you spin in your stool and snag your pen from the drawer behind you.

"Any news on the other green guy we hate?" Bruce asks slowly, eyes bouncing between you and Stark.

Your blood goes a little cold. Just like always. It's hard not to react — especially when that other green guy is all you think about day and night.

WHEN YOU LOSE HIM YOU WILL DO ANYTHING TO GET HIM BACK.

You wordlessly shake your head. You shrug. Bruce turns to Stark. Tony is hunched over his bench. His words are a bit muffled by the soldering project he's turned his attention to.

"None. According to Thor he just up and poofed. He was in the middle of atoning before the Buckingham of Asgard and... just warped on out."

So you've heard.

"Hill has been working every lead she can but... the Asgardians are a little touchy-feely on the whole 'earthlings in the domain of the Gods' thing."

"Understandable," you mutter absently.

Tony sits up. "Only time will tell."

...Indeed.

Home.

Unit 1131.

Lonely.

It wasn't before all this... It was full to the brim with contentment. It was comfort, it was bliss. It was indulgent mornings slept beneath the covers and bright music in the kitchen. Cheap wine from the liquor shop on the corner and homemade meals. It was "I finally made it".

Now, it's none of that.

Because he's out there — and you know that you don't belong here anymore.

You drop your bag by the door.

Your boots follow in a trail.

Sigurd mews expectantly, and you scoop him wordlessly into your arms as you weave through the chaos of papers and books. Your carpet is hidden beneath a layer of obsession masquerading as research.

But, there's one thing that pulls you back in each time.

It's that photo.

The one Darcy had pointed at earlier.

Loki is being carted off from the now-Avengers Tower. He's looking back at something, and his expression is broken.

It's you.

You know he's pleading with Thor at that moment through a muzzle, desperate to call your name. He's looking at you, being whisked away by S.H.I.E.L.D. as they clear the area, and your voice is silenced by grief.

You wish you had called out to him then — told him you'd find him again.

Regret is a hell of a thing.

Grief, too.

How do you mourn something you never really had? Not here, not in this timeline.

So you stand there, in the dim lights of your apartment, staring at the photo. And you cry. Just like every night, for the last six months.

In your desk, that magical little daisy made of grass waits.

If they find Sylvie, they find you.

That's the mission.

Mobius M. Mobius thinks it's funny — back then, man if only he would have known that lil' hunch of his was right. Maybe a part of him did. And... Now? Things are different. I mean, everything is different. The TVA is different.

Loki is different.

They say to be loved is to be changed an' all that.

The first thing out of Loki's mouth was your name when Mobius finally saw him again — and then a word vomit of panic, induced by the death of He Who Remains and... time-slippage as OB called it. Lotsa moving parts. Lots to keep track of. But, ultimately, they're in a better spot than they were yesterday.

1.) Loki is no longer falling through the metaphorical cracks in time.

2.) Mobius did not get toasted alive when standing before The Loom.

3.) He never, ever, ever has to do that again.

And now!

They're in London.

1977, huh. Zaniac.

If they find Sylvie, they find you.

...Unless you find him first.

Loki isn't exactly thrilled.

No, Loki knows better than to get his hopes up. Sylvie isn't here. He already told Mobius that. It's too safe. It's a damned movie premiere. There are no radiation burns, no falling stars, and no rampant gunfire. It's too quiet.

It's a movie premiere and you're out there, somewhere, alone. You're... you're lost. He can't protect you here. He can't protect anything. You... You're all he has and you're gone.

And he's here, wasting his damn time.

Brad Wolfe is about to waste more of his time.

Loki's gaze is sharp. His strides are long, and as they approach the fray, the God stands amongst the tallest of guests. He cuts a mean profile. It's times like these that Mobius remembers he is a God.

(It's times like these that Mobius can also see the ever-increasing edge in his partner-in-time. It's a little... worrisome. But understandable. I mean, rip a God's soulmate from his hands and see what happens, right?)

"So, he's an actor now?" Loki comments off-handedly, his irritation grating his heartstrings in a way that reminds him of who he was before all this. He hates it. But, he's angry. He will get you back. Without you...

Without you, he doesn't know what he'll do.

"Or he's undercover."

As they weave, Loki's brows knot in distrust. "Looks pretty real to me."

It smells like cigarettes and perfume, and the flashbulbs bite sharply into Loki's peripherals. The raven-haired trickster winces, tucking his hands into his slacks.

On the red carpet, X-5 moves from interview to interview. Occasionally his laughter rises above the clamor. Each time, Loki's nostrils flare and he rolls his eyes.

It's when he reaches the end of the line that Mobius moves in.

"Will there be a Zaniac Two?"

The look on Brad's face says enough for Mobius to know there's more going on here than just an undercover bit. Brad's laugh, as equally pained as his smile, just cements the fact.

"Mobius! Woah!" A clap on the shoulder, a big hug. "I used to work with this guy!"

Still a show. Still a weasel trying to survive on his little slice of time.

"We're going to need to catch up," he begins, backing up slowly, "You know, why don't we chat after the show?"

"How about now, maybe?" Mobius counters just as Brad turns on his heel and comes face to face with Loki.

The God sneers.

"Woah. Okay, ha, whole gangs here!" he chirps, "Isn't that... great? Wow. I mean, you look — you look great, Loki."

"Why thank you, Brad."

Brad's eyes are manic, and he's searching the crowd quickly — no doubt looking for an exit. Then, they catch something. When Brad claps his hands together and pats them on both Loki and Mobius' shoulders, the two TVA agents pause.

"Everything alright?" Loki asks, head tilting in faux concern.

"Everything is great, actually, because when I was here," he begins, words quick and anxious as he tries to weave some sort of story, "I met a mutual friend!"

"Sylvie?" Mobius asks tightly.

"No, no, uh, better—"

Loki's jaw tightens. Enough of this. "We have some mutual friends back at the TVA who would like a word, as well—"

"Doc!" calls Brad after finally finding her in the sea of people, turning on his heel and calling out over his shoulder, "I got people I need you to meet!"

And just like that, it's like Loki's whole world splits wide open again.

In the fray of photographers and journalists, in the fray of drinks and the haze of smoke, there's you. You're smiling at Brad, positively beaming. You're bright as a star and Gods, there's no one in the room when you step forward with a laugh.

Your dress is green. Your hair is different.

There's a beauty mark on your left cheek. His version of you has a scar that lies there. A mistimed gift from Sylvie before their period on Lamentis.

"Doc, these are some of my friends from work," Brad points, his hand falling along your waist in a way that makes Loki's blood boil; the ex-TVA Hunter leans close to your cheek, "They're the real deal."

You laugh into your drink, then extend your hand to Mobius. He's trying his best to hide his growing dread. "It's a pleasure."

Mobius takes it and shakes it gently. "And how do you have the pleasure of knowing our starlet, Brad?"

Damn it. He's losing Loki in real time here.

"Doc here did all the practical effects on set for Zaniac," Brad's eyes connect with Loki's — but the God is focused on only you... Her. Until Wolfe digs in with a low murmur meant to do just what it does, "She's a real wiz with her hands."

The God's face snaps. He will kill Brad, he decides. But, then this other-you moves to offer her hand and he can't help but melt.

His fingers are trembling when he touches her skin.

"Have we met before?" comes the soft lilt of her voice — this Variant's eyes are brown. They search Loki's face for a shred of recognition but all that's there between the two of them is raw attraction. A law of time and space unhindered by meddling hands. No matter where, no matter when, you will find one another.

Loki's mouth is dry. Your lipstick shade is a dark rogue. He thinks about that kiss back in the Void. He's stuck there, with your hand in his, when Brad bolts.

Her face contorts in confusion. She pulls away. But, Loki lingers.

He has to... He...

He needs you back.

Now.

#beyond the void #from the void with love #loki x reader #loki x doc #loki x y/n #loki reader insert #loki/reader #loki/you #loki imagine #marvel imagine #marvel reader insert #loki season 2 fic #marvel fanfic

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not-mothman · 2 years

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just finished watching the shining and doctor sleep after reading the books,,,, man those movies sure do love killing characters that aren't supposed to die

#movies are old enough at this point i shouldn't have to tag spoilers #i mean like come on. BILLY? he didnt need to die #and abras DAD?! unnecessary!#also can't help but notice that they're all people of color too which uhhh hmmm ok #also????!!! dan!! wha t i did NOT see that coming #tho i did like the ending of doctor sleep SO MUCH bc i really liked the ending of the shining book and was disappointed #that the movie was so different #so the fact that they altered the ending of doctor sleep to fit that better was *chefs kiss*#i liked that detail #i was a little disappointed that they didn't have the reveal of dan being abras actual uncle in the movie too #cuz my jaw Dropped when i read that part #man if anyone wants to talk abt these books and movies with me i would Love to #gOD WHEN THEY WERE PLAYING THE SHINING THEME SONG AT THR END OF DOCTOR SLEEP WHEN THEY WERE DRIVING TO THE OVERLOOK!#cinematic genuis right there

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nburkhardt · 6 months

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Saw a prompt and couldn’t let it go, so enjoy! 🥰 (no dialogue because I can’t figure that part out)

Steve has always craved touch even though he never got it.

His parents found out his unique ability at a young age when Steve touched his aunt and she immediately fell to the floor dead. Just from his skin touching hers. After that he wasn’t allowed any sort of touch, his parents warned anyone and everyone to avoid touching him. Near everyone in town knows, knows to avoid touch with him; stays away from him.

Steve manages, as much as someone can with deadly powers.

He figured out how to get his own comfort from plush toys and once he figured out when others touch his clothes first, nothing happens. He figures wearing sleeves and pants and gloves will always be his best options.

Still touch-starved though.

He has friends, but no one wants to get super close. Too afraid to accidentally touch. His parents leave often, also too afraid of his ability.

Eddie was told by his Uncle Wayne that he was special.

That when he was five, he was in a terrible car accident that should’ve killed him. It did kill his mom, but the emts and doctors were shocked that Eddie was fine. He was hurt, sure, but completely fine otherwise.

So, he grew to be little reckless. Lives on the edge and found out at sixteen that he can’t die. After several visits with specialists, it was officially confirmed.

He’s able to get hurt, pretty badly sometimes. But besides that, he can’t die. Which scares him just a bit but not enough to stop living life on the edge.

Steve leaves his hometown as soon as he can with only his things and a plan to get as far away as he can from all the people who are afraid of him.

He’s also afraid, so afraid that he’s not only touch-starved but also a little touch averse now. Doesn’t want anyone to die just by simply touching him. He might want touch, but will always be afraid.

They meet by chance, but mostly because of Eddie being a reckless idiot and his friends daring him to try running across very busy traffic. Which, as the daredevil he is, Eddie attempts to do it.

He’s only stopped by Steve freaking out at seeing it. For once, Steve acts before his brain catches up with him. Just throws his gloveless hand and grabs hold on Eddie’s arm to force him to stop moving.

Eddie jerks back and for a split second, feels a warmth before it fades. He’s taken back, annoyed at being stopped but also very confused. Most people that live here, know him. Know that he can get hurt but can’t die.

So this random person grabbing hold of his arm is new.

The touch registers in Steve’s head minutes later, as Eddie stares at him. He immediately lets go with wide eyes and panicking. But instead of the guy dropping dead, he’s still standing.

Eventually they’ll talk, they’ll learn each other’s abilities and someday in the future learn to love each other.

Sooo, I can’t figure out how to work out dialogue into this. Or really flesh out their abilities. But it’s a thing! If you want to take this and pick it apart, you’re definitely welcome to do so! (If you do tag me!)

Permanent tag list:

@spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz @estrellami-1 @cartercaptainofthemoon @strangersteddierthings

#steddie #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #stranger things #nburkhardt writes #Steve x eddie #steddie au #touch starved steve harrington #but ALSO #touch averse Steve Harrington #reckless Eddie Munson #Eddie’s totally a daredevil you can’t tell me otherwise #it’s sorta x-men related but also very much not

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libraryofgage · 4 months

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Harlequin Prince

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One Harley Quinn One (you're here!) 10th Doctor and Rose (on the way! might take a little, I have plans for this one) Scooby Gang (there are also plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz)

I'm a simple woman who believes Steve deserves to be a little unhinged sometimes, and having Harley Quinn as a mother is the perfect excuse to make that happen lol

Anyway, I know I haven't updated some of my other series in a hot minute; I've just been busy with work and a little sick ngl

If you'd like to be tagged for any new parts in this series, let me know!

And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

-------

Steve's earliest memory is of being tucked into bed with a Batman night light plugged into the wall and his mother squeezed in next to him. She's wearing her softest pajamas, and Steve idly rubs the fabric under his thumb. In her lap is a huge book that she flips through, humming "Pop Goes the Weasel" under her breath before finally stopping on a page. "Okay, Dumplin', let's read about Narcissistic Personality Disorder," she finally says, wiggling some to get comfortable before clearing her throat.

Her voice is soft and a little nasally, and Steve obediently closes his eyes when she starts reading. After a few minutes, she gently cards her fingers through his hair, her palm warm as it slides over his scalp. Eventually, he drifts off, his dream so vivid that he still remembers the oversized hammers with their white doctor coats and floating clipboards.

The first time Steve's mother is sent (back) to Arkham, he doesn't realize anything is wrong until Uncle Bruce picks him up from school. Steve had been waiting long after the other kids were picked up by their parents, a misshapen pink-and-blue coaster for his mother that he made in art class in his hands, when one of Uncle Bruce's fancy cars pulled up to the school.

The passenger window rolled down, and Bruce looked almost pained as he met Steve's eyes. "Hop in," he said, leaning over to open the door from the inside.

Steve walked up to the door but didn't get in. "Mom said I should only go home with her," he said, "unless you know our secret code."

"Cognitive Behavioral Therapy."

Steve stood for a moment longer before nodding and climbing into the passenger seat. He closed the door, pulled on his seat belt, and carefully held the coaster in his lap. "Where's Mom?" he asked, watching as Bruce turned down the radio and slowly pulled away from the school.

"Your mother is....going to be away for a while," Bruce said, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "She did something bad, and now she's going to stay in time out because of it."

"Mom says you shouldn't dumb things down just because I'm young. She says it's not good for my development."

Bruce got a slight smile at that, his lips twitching up as he glanced at Steve. "Is that so," he said, his grip on the wheel loosening some. He seemed to think for a moment before saying, "Your mother blew up a warehouse. She was apprehended by Batman and has been sent to Arkham for a few months. Since I'm listed as your godfather, you'll stay with me until she's released."

Steve didn't reply. He just looked down at his coaster and wondered if he'd be able to convince his Uncle Bruce to visit Arkham so he could give it to her.

He did not, in fact, get to visit her at Arkham during that stint. But Steve did get to visit on her next one, which was almost three years later to the day. Steve's first visit to Arkham was on his 8th birthday, and he was chaperoned by Uncle Bruce and Nightwing (he wasn't allowed to call Dick by his real name when he was in costume, so Steve just didn't call him anything at all).

That was also the first time Steve truly experienced Arkham's lax security. Through no fault of his own (and he would continue to argue this point; how did two superheroes let an 8 year old wander off?), Steve had somehow ended up in another part of Arkham altogether.

This hallway had large cells with reinforced glass walls that allowed Steve to look inside. He could name most of the people he passed, recognizing Killer Croc and Riddler and the Penguin by his mother's descriptions of their defining features. Most of them tried talking to Steve, but he pushed ahead, eager to see if his mother was at the end of the hall.

She wasn't. Instead, Steve found another woman. She had green skin and bright red hair and Steve hadn't been able to contain himself. He'd practically squished his face against the glass and asked, "Are you Poison Ivy?"

"Oh, her he talks to," the Penguin said, his tone mean and his voice carrying.

Poison Ivy ignored him, choosing to instead open one eye from where she lay on the bed. She stared at Steve before sitting up. "Do I know you?" she asked.

"Nope! But my mom knows you. She talks about you all the time. She said you're the baddest badass to ever badass," Steve said.

"Oh. You're Harley's kid," Poison Ivy replied, walking over to the glass and crouching down to meet his gaze. "What are you doing all the way over here?"

"It's my birthday, so Uncle Bruce said I could see Mom."

"Well, happy birthday. Now, what are you doing here?"

Steve blinked, looked around the hall again, and realized for the first time that he was, in fact, a bit lost. "Uh, I'm not sure. I was with Uncle Bruce before."

A moment passed between the two of them in which Poison Ivy said nothing while Steve tried to remember how, exactly, he'd ended up here. When he came up blank, he simply shrugged and looked back at her. "Hey, you like plants, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, kid, I like plants," she said, her tone taking on the same inflection his mother's did when he asked something she thinks is obvious.

Steve didn't linger on the tone. Instead, he dug around in his coat pocket for a few seconds, pushing past candy wrappers and erasers until his hand closed around an acorn he'd picked up off the ground a few days ago. He pulled it out and presented it to Poison Ivy on his palm. "Is it still a plant if it fell off the tree?" he asked.

"Yeah," Poison Ivy said, her voice soft like she was staring at something unbelievable. Steve watched as a huge grin spread across her face, her eyes lit up, and she pressed her hands to the glass. "Can you do me a favor, Steve?" she asked.

"Sure! Mom said you're a person I should listen to," he said, starting to close his fingers around the acorn. Now that he was thinking about it, he didn't actually know how to give the acorn to her with the glass between them.

"Your mom is right. You should always listen to me. And her. But mostly me right now," Poison Ivy said, her gaze a bit softer as she looked at Steve. "So, go ahead and put the acorn on the ground and stand as far away as possible."

Steve didn't question her. Whatever Poison Ivy wanted to do would probably be fine. After all, Uncle Bruce didn't warn him about talking to her like he had about the Joker. So, Steve put the acorn down and hurried to the other end of the hall. "Now what?" he shouted.

The only response he got was the acorn shuddering, spinning across the floor, and then bursting open. In the blink of an eye, a tree grew, its roots breaking through the ground and its branches shattering the glass of Poison Ivy's cell. Steve was just thinking that was probably why Poison Ivy told him to stand back when she walked out, rolling her shoulders and breathing like the air is fresh.

She looked at Steve and walked over, standing in front of him for a moment before sweeping him into her arms. "Thanks, kid," she said, opening her hand and letting a tiny purple flower grow from her palm. She tucked it behind Steve's ear. "Now, let's go find your mom."

Of course, Poison Ivy's escape had set off numerous alarms, and Uncle Bruce just about fainted when he saw her carrying Steve while Nightwing looked two seconds from laughing. But Steve's mom had smiled so wide that her cheeks must have hurt after only two seconds when she saw them.

It was, by far, the best birthday Steve had ever had.

‐-----------------------------

Hawkins, Indiana, is...boring. Steve has only been in the town for a few weeks, and he's bored out of his mind. He could have been sent to Metropolis or Central City. Hell, he would have preferred Bludhaven to the absolute snoozefest that is Hawkins. But, no, Uncle Bruce insisted on somewhere safe, which means somewhere boring, which means...Steve will just have to make his own fun.

That's why he's found himself in a dive bar on the edge of town, sitting at the bar as the owner (a woman named Bev who definitely killed her husband; Steve would know, he's met plenty of women who definitely killed their husbands) refuses to give him anything alcoholic. "Listen, kid," she says, her tone hard and unyielding, "I can give you water, a Shirley Temple, or a permanent ban. Which do you prefer."

After a few seconds, Steve sighs, slaps way more money than is necessary on the bar, and says, "Gimme a Shirley Temple."

Bev nods, swipes up the cash, and starts making his drink. He watches her with a slight frown before looking away, noticing another boy his age wiping down a table. He looks, and Steve cannot say this affectionately enough, like a wannabe goon for a motorcycle gang. Between the bandana stuffed into his back pocket, his slightly frizzy hair falling to his shoulders, and the leather jacket/vest combo, the guy is the first reminder of home Steve has seen since arriving in this sleepy town.

When he notices the guy's shoulders tense, Steve looks away to keep from being caught staring. A Shirley Temple is placed in front of him, and Steve represses a sigh, missing the sounds of fights happening behind him as he drinks with Jason.

"Aren't you a little young to be hanging around here?"

Steve slowly takes a sip of his drink, the saccharine cherry flavor washing over his tastebuds, and glances at an older man a few seats down from him. He looks the man over, lingering on the half-tucked shirt, muddy loafers, and circles under his eyes. Without permission, his mother's DSM-V rushes through his mind, a blur of his mother's voice accompanying the page flips. They finally settle on "Adjustment Disorder," accompanied by his mom saying, "Sometimes, that's just a fancy term for a mid-life crisis, Dumplin'."

Without thinking, Steve asks in return, "Aren't you a little old to still be going through a mid-life crisis?"

In Gotham, that might get him a laugh, an eye roll, and possibly an elbow to the ribs from whichever friend accompanied him. Here, it gets him a tense silence that he only thought happened in bad movies gearing up for a fight sequence. Seriously, what is wrong with Hawkins?

"I'll give you one chance to apologize," the guy says, clearly thinking he's being sufficiently threatening.

It takes every ounce of Steve's self-control to keep from laughing at the guy. Does that usually work? Do people usually find this guy threatening? He's got nothing on Alfred, so Steve just can't bring himself to even fake intimidation.

"Yeah, don't hold your breath, man," Steve says, rolling his eyes as he takes another sip. The Shirley Temple isn't bad, but it's not what he was expecting, and it feels like just another disappointment atop a pile of them.

They're building in his chest, now that he thinks about it. Steve is slowly suffocating under the weight of them. They buzz in his lungs, surging through him until the energy is so overwhelming that he has to bounce his leg and tap his finger against his glass to expel some of it. He shouldn't have agreed to leave Gotham, or at the very least, he shouldn't have left the location entirely up to Bruce. Holy shit, that was a dumb decision. He ought to know better.

A sudden, annoyingly harsh drag of chair legs against the floor rings in Steve's ears, making his shoulders tense and his fingers twitch. He looks over to see the guy standing over him, glaring down at Steve like that's supposed to scare him when nothing else has.

Steve sighs, drinking the last of his Shirley Temple before standing. Over the guy's shoulder, he can see the boy his age watching them, and...well, Steve kind of wants to make a good impression on the first person to remind him of home. Plus, a fight sounds great. He'd love a chance to expel some of this disappointment-fueled energy.

The guy suddenly snorts, pulling Steve's attention back. "You're young, kid, so I'll let you off the hook this time around, but learn some respect."

What? Seriously? All of that, and the guy doesn't even start a fight? Does he know how rude that is? He'd get killed in Gotham. "Oh," Steve says, his voice flat, "you're scared of getting your ass kicked."

Somehow, that's what the guy considers the final straw. It wasn't even that good. Like, that's just fucking small talk in Gotham, and Steve can't bring himself to understand what about it was so infuriating that the guy swings his fist.

Either way, Steve happily embraces the fight. His eyes light up, and adrenaline rushes through his veins as he ducks and kicks the guy's left knee. The familiar sound of a bone snapping rings out. Steve's ready for more, hands curled into fists and held up to protect his face, when the guy drops.

After one kick, he drops. Steve blinks, staring down at the guy cursing and holding his knee. He slowly lowers his hands when he realizes this isn't some kind of fake-out diversion and looks at Bev behind the counter. She's frowning at him, hands on her hips, and Steve comes to the conclusion that bar fights are not, in fact, a thing in Hawkins. "Do they usually go down so easy around here?" he asks.

"They usually don't fight at all."

Oh. Holy shit, this place is boring.

Steve sighs and pushes some hair out of his face, frowning slightly. "Well, uh, sorry about the disturbance, then. I'll just...get going," he says, awkwardly pushing his chair in and doing the same for the guy whose kneecap he kicked. Nobody says anything as he leaves, and Steve shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, frustration and disappointment and homesickness building in him.

He's halfway to his car when somebody shouts, "Hey! Wait!"

With a huff, Steve stops and turns, his mood only lightening when he sees the boy that was wiping down tables. He waits patiently, watching as the boy runs up to him and holds out a wad of cash. "Bev said to give this to you," he says.

"What, is my money not good enough?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow at the cash before looking up and meeting brown eyes.

"No, no," the boy says, "Bev only gives change to people she likes. She said you're welcome to come by and kick Phillip's ass whenever you want."

Steve blinks, studying the boy for any signs of lies. When he doesn't find one, he takes the cash and nods. "Good to know," he says.

"Yeah. Right. Um, I'm going back inside now."

"Hold on," Steve says, grinning when the boy listens and stands still. He takes a step closer, holds out his hand, and says, "My name's Steve. I'm new around here, if you couldn't tell."

The boy stares at his hand for a few seconds before taking it, the rings on his fingers pressing against Steve's skin. "Eddie. I could tell," he says, his shoulders relaxing some. "Where you from?"

"Gotham."

"Holy shit, no wonder you looked so ready for a fight," Eddie says, staring at Steve like he's incomprehensible. Steve tries not to preen under his gaze. "Hawkins must be dead compared to Gotham."

"Yeah," Steve agrees, glancing down at his and Eddie's hands still clasped together despite the handshake being over. "But I think I'll have some fun anyway."

#steddie #steddie fic #harlequin prince #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve deserves good parents actually #bruce wayne #dc comics crossover #harley quinn #poison ivy #this bitch has been sitting in my drafts for so long guys hfjkds #so excited to finally release it into the wild

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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months

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moments filled with everything

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is wanting to do everything together' AND for @starryeyedjanai's birthday! Happiest of birthdays to you! there's no spice this time, but i hope you enjoy anyway!

rated t | 1,369 words | cw: mention of injury/hospital | tags: soulmate au, getting together, love confessions

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

The inconvenience of finding your soulmate when he’s on the run from the law and citizens of the town is pretty annoying. Especially when said soulmate insisted on trying to protect everyone and almost dies in the process.

The problem is that when you touch your soulmate for the first time, the connection becomes unbreakable, and the first few weeks are usually spent constantly touching in some way.

The problem is that they don’t have that option during the end of the world.

The problem is Eddie is under close watch of doctors and nurses, and Hopper, while they sort out his health and clearing his name, and that means Steve can only stop by during regular visiting hours.

The problem is that everyone else also only visits during normal visiting hours and they agreed not to tell anyone about their soulmate situation until he was home and safe.

Steve could feel the constant pull to touch him, to comfort him when the pain started to get to be too much. It was almost painful to have distance between them, but with the kids constantly fighting for Eddie’s attention, and Wayne sitting right next to him most days, Steve could barely get a quick brush of their hands.

They hadn’t even kissed yet.

It’s been 11 days since they touched. 11 days since Steve’s entire life became ‘get him out of this so you can love him.’

The loving him part was easy; only took a couple of days of watching him with the kids and with his uncle and with Robin for Steve to know he loved Eddie. But he wasn’t stupid, and he knew that Eddie probably didn’t feel the same yet. Why would he? He barely knew him, barely saw who he was outside of emergency mode.

And Eddie had made a passing comment right before he almost died, something Steve couldn’t quite get out of his head.

”A soulmate is someone you wanna do everything with, and I just don’t think I’ll get that.”

He didn’t know Steve could hear him, and probably wouldn’t have said it if he did, but if that’s how he felt after knowing Steve was his soulmate, then he didn’t think the love was going to be returned anytime soon, if ever. He could be patient. He was trying to be. But he wasn’t that hopeful.

Sometimes Eddie’s eyes would land on his across the hospital room, and they’d settle there for far longer than was considered normal for friends. They’d search Steve’s face for long enough that Steve could feel the warmth of a blush across his cheeks. He’d look away, but he’d feel Eddie’s gaze remain, sometimes for a few more seconds, sometimes more.

The pull got worse by the day.

By the two week mark, Steve was literally itching to be closer. He paced outside the door for ten minutes while he waited for Wayne to leave, grateful that the kids had all been brought up to volunteer at the school for the day and he would have at least a minute alone with Eddie without interruption.

Wayne opened the door and smirked at Steve. “Surprised you’ve been this patient. He’s about ready to pull out his IV in there, so you better hurry up and hold his hand or somethin’.”

Steve didn’t reply, just pushed through the door and rushed to Eddie’s bed.

Eddie was, in fact, picking at the tape around his IV, like if he was given enough alone time he would tear it off and escape out the window.

“I know I’m not what you wanted-” Steve started, his hands balled into fists to resist reaching out before Eddie was ready. “But I promise I’m gonna try to be what you need. I don’t know how to yet, but I want to. And I desperately need to touch you. Like, just holding your hand is fine, but I’m gonna lose my mind if I don’t so-”

“What do you mean you’re not what I wanted?” Eddie interrupted, casually sliding his hand into Steve’s. Both of them gasped at the spark, but the tension seemed to drain from both of them at the same time. “Why do you think that?”

“I mean, I’m sure I’m not really your type. And I mean, I know I’m not like I was in high school, but I let my friends do some shitty things to you then.” Steve looked down at their joined hands, perfectly fit together in a way he’d never had with anyone he’d been with before. “And I know you don’t think we’re a great match or whatever, but I think I’d like to do stuff with you all the time. If you’d want to.”

“Why do you think I think that?”

“Because you said you didn’t think you’d wanna do everything with your soulmate.”

Eddie seemed to realize what Steve was referring to as soon as Steve started to pull his hand away. His grip tightened and he shook his head.

“I didn’t mean that.” Eddie bit his lip. “I was scared that I would wanna do everything with you and you wouldn’t wanna do everything with me.”

“Eds, I love you. I wanna do everything with you, always.”

“You love me?” Eddie whispered.

Steve hadn’t meant to say it, but it’s not like he didn’t mean it, so he doubled down.

“Yeah. I do. I know it’s probably stupid, but I watched you give everything to protect us, I brought you back here almost dead, and ever since you woke up from surgery, I’ve watched you light up the room. I see how smart you are and how funny you are and how kind you are, even when you’re teasing someone. And I just. I love it. I love you.”

“Stevie-”

“I know you don’t love me. It’s okay. Maybe someday you will, maybe you won’t. Sometimes the soulmate shit is stupid, right? Fate gets it wrong or whatever.” Steve shrugged, tried to pull his hand free. He felt too vulnerable like this, standing by Eddie’s bed waiting for him to reject him. “But I just need you to know that fate got it right for me.”

“You don’t plan on following that up with a kiss?” Eddie finally asked after too long with just silence.

Steve’s mouth opened, closed, opened again as he tried to think of what to say or do.

“C’mere sweetheart. I think I owe you something,” Eddie smiled up at him as he tugged on his hand to get him closer.

Their first kiss was a lot like that first touch: overwhelming and scary, but electric and intense.

Filled with love.

When they broke apart, everything had shifted.

“I can’t wait to do everything with you, Stevie,” Eddie said before a knock on the door pulled them further apart.

Steve didn’t go far, just held his hand while the nurse looked over some of his bandages.

*****

When Eddie finally got out of the hospital, the first thing he did was tell everyone that Steve was his soulmate.

Wayne had already known, but went along with his dramatics because it’s what he was used to.

Robin had already known too after walking in on Steve sitting in Eddie’s lap, carefully braiding his hair while Eddie read to him. She didn’t even say anything, just sat down in the chair across from the bed and listened when Eddie started reading again.

After, she slapped Steve on the arm and told him to never hide shit from her again.

The kids took it well, though Mike and Dustin were pretty surprised they managed to hide it for so long.

Eddie still had a lot of healing to do.

But he did it with Steve by his side.

He did everything with Steve by his side.

When he made a sandwich, Steve was next to him, slicing the tomatoes.

When he was taking a shower, Steve was in it with him, or sitting on the toilet lid talking about his day.

When he was folding laundry, Steve was using dish detergent to get oil stains out of his jeans.

Every day was filled with moments together, and each moment was everything.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddielovemonth #love is wanting to do everything together #getting together #love confessions #soulmate au

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thisapplepielife · 4 months

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Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Hell to Pay

Prompt Day 26: "Who did this to you?" | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | CW: Aftermath of Off-Screen Violence, Injuries | Tags: Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, But Hawkins is Shitty to Him, Established Relationship, Uncle Wayne & Steve, Hurt/Comfort, Steve POV

"If they don't pull this off, I'm done with them," Steve says, and Wayne laughs.

The damn Pacers are trying to kill them both this year. It's been a losing year, and they can't seem to dig themselves out of this hole they're currently in. But Wayne and him keep watching games together, hoping they'll somehow turn it around.

Steve starts to say something else, when he hears the van pull up in the driveway, but it doesn't sound right. It came in too slow.

So, Steve gets up to peek out of the window, just to get a look at what's going on, and sees Dustin getting out of the driver's seat, which is not cool.

But then he sees Dustin racing towards the other side, and Eddie is leaning heavily against Dustin's side, as Dustin tries to help him towards the front door.

Steve's stomach drops.

"Wayne," Steve says, and that's all Wayne needs to hear to be on his feet, too. Both of them hurrying onto the porch, and down the steps.

"Who did this to you?" Steve yells as he reaches their side, taking over for Dustin.

Eddie doesn't answer, and Steve wants to grill Dustin, but Dustin's crying, nearly hysterically, at Steve's side. He can't deal with both of these things at once, and Dustin looks okay. Just upset.

Eddie is very clearly not okay.

Wayne is helping, too, and Steve thinks maybe they're headed in the wrong direction. Maybe they need to be going to the hospital, right now. Eddie's face. It's…bad. It's all bad, and Steve feels tears stinging his own eyes.

"You're okay, kid," Steve hears Wayne saying, and Steve doesn't think that's true, "We're both right here, now."

That is true, at least.

They ease him down onto the couch, and Steve crouches between his knees, gripping his thigh with one hand, the other hovering above his face, not touching him, not wanting to hurt him further.

"What happened?" Steve asks, softly. Gentle.

Wayne is in the kitchen running the water, and he shows up with a wet washcloth, and starts gently dabbing at the blood. Trying to get a better look at the damage.

"Got jumped," Eddie says, and it clearly hurts his battered mouth.

"I'm calling Hopper," Steve says.

Eddie has just wanted to ignore the vitriol that has been hurled his way, even after his name was cleared. But this? This is too far. Way, way too fucking far. Steve's gonna kill someone.

"Steve, no," Eddie says, "'m fine. Honest."

He's not fine, that's for goddamn certain.

Steve stands, lets Wayne move closer to work, and snags Dustin by the arm.

"Henderson, what happened?" Steve asks, and Dustin is just shaking his head, trying desperately to stop crying.

Steve just pulls him to his chest, hugging him tight, "You did good, kid. You brought him home."

And Dustin just cries harder.

"Steve?" Wayne calls out, and Steve lets go of Dustin and heads back towards the couch.

"This needs stitches," Wayne says, "a butterfly won't cut it. We better take you in."

Eddie is shaking his head, adamantly, "No. You do it."

"It's your face, kid, not your finger," Wayne says.

Steve knows the story. Eddie cut his finger opening a can of cat food a few years ago, and Wayne stitched it up for him. Using his skills from the war. Calling in a favor from the health nurse, getting her to drop by the trailer to give Eddie a tetanus booster right at home.

Eddie doesn't do hospitals. Not since his mom died.

But tonight, Steve thinks maybe they need to make an exception. This is different. This isn't a couple little stitches in the finger of a stubborn teenager.

This is a split across his cheek.

He needs a doctor, not homespun stitches.

But Eddie's never gonna accept that, not without a huge fight, so it's just Wayne and Steve staring at each other, trying to make a decision.

"Steve…" Eddie says, pleading with him.

"Can we please take you to the hospital? Don't make Wayne stitch up your face," Steve says, gently touching Eddie's hair.

Every time they see the scar it would undoubtedly leave, they'll have to remember this night, and none of them want that.

Eddie looks in Steve's eyes, then Wayne's, and finally nods. Consenting to the right decision.

Steve leans down and kisses him on the top of the head.

"Can I shower first?" Eddie asks, and Steve looks at Wayne, and Wayne nods.

Steve helps Eddie up off the couch, and down to the bathroom. Gets out a couple clean towels, a dark washcloth, and undresses Eddie. Then himself, stepping into the shower with Eddie. Gently helping him wash his bleeding face, his probably broken nose. His matted, tangled hair.

Eddie finally cries, here in private, and Steve presses kisses into his shoulder, his chest, right over his heart.

"I'm so sorry this happened," Steve says, and Eddie steps into his arms, and lets the warm water wash over them.

Once they're out, and redressed in clean clothes, they get into Steve's car. Wayne driving, Dustin in the front seat, so Steve can sit in the back with Eddie.

Holding him, keeping a piece of gauze against the worst of the bleeding.

They pull up in front of the emergency room, and Eddie takes a shuddering breath against Steve's body. Steve just hugs him closer, tighter.

"It'll be okay, I'll be right with you," Steve promises.

And he stays, even after there's been pushback. He watches as they numb Eddie's cheek, and then slide the needle through his skin, stitching him back together again.

But, part of Eddie is broken now, Steve's pretty sure. This was a new low, even for this goddamn town, and there will be hell to pay when Steve finds out who was responsible.

Eddie might want to let it go, but Steve won't. No fucking way in hell.

There'll be goddamn consequences, this time.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

#steddieholidaydrabbles #who did this to you?#cw: injury #established relationship #steddie #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #wayne munson #dustin henderson #stranger things #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles

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dmercer91 · 4 months

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never grow up, nh13

nico watches his daughter grow up as a single dad (7.8k)

nico hischier x daughter! reader

this song reminds me of me and my dad so bad so i needed to write this out and it was so cute i love how it turned out despite it taking me like two months to do

reader would’ve been born in 2016, so she’s seven in real time! nico will be 31 in the scenes she’s 14 and 35 in the scenes she’s moving out

your little hands wrapped around my finger, and it’s so quiet in the world tonight

nico gulped, staring at the nurse that was holding you- his baby girl, soon after saying that your mom hadn’t made it.

the pregnancy was complicated, and the fact that he hadn’t known you were on the way until merely a few days ago hadn’t helped your mothers case.

you were the product of a one night stand, and he was never meant to know about you. then, her doctors warned her of how deeply rooted her complications truly were, and she decided that you should have a biological family, if nico would have you.

the nurse set you in nicos arms and smiled sadly at the sight of him, a tear rolling down his cheek as you cooed the second you reached him.

“hi, sonnenschein” he sniffled, your eyes squinting at the light of the room, your hand reaching out for him.

he offered you a finger, tears blinding him as he felt you clutch your hand around it. he quickly wiped his eyes, getting his hand back around to hold you properly and adjusting you against his chest

you looked up at him with your mouth agape, his own eyes staring back at him and building the ache in his heart.

“she’s beautiful,” he murmured to the nurse, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

then, for nico, it was like his whole world stopped and he knew that for the rest of his life, you’d be his sun. everything he did would be for you, revolving around you. if he hadn’t wanted to do it he’d remind himself that he needed to, for his sunshine.

everything went mute in his ears save for the sounds of your fussing when he adjusted you once again, a little nervous he was doing it wrong.

for you, he couldn’t be doing it wrong. he needed to protect you- it was his job. he swore that to himself.

your little eyelids flutter cause you’re dreaming so i tuck you in, turn on your favourite night light

“uncle jacky’s gonna bring the snacks, and we’re gonna watch your favourite,” nico grinned as he picked you up from your underarms and you squealed

“sully!” you screamed in excitement, giggling as nico set you down on your dresser and picked out some pyjamas for you, watching as you tried to get down and do it yourself.

“i do it. want- i do it” you fussed, getting frustrated when your tip toes couldn’t reach the floor from your seat and you found yourself too afraid to take the small jump

he helped you down and you clung to the side of his leg, looking up at him with a pout as he ruffled your hair.

“daddy, i wanna try, please” you levelled, recently having been taught that you’re more likely to get your way if you ask nicely and don’t get frustrated when you can’t immediately take the reigns.

“okay, sonnenschein. which ones do you want?” you shook your head, still hugging onto him despite your request of independence

“no, daddy. you let me do it,” you explained, faltering before unwrapping yourself from him and pointing to your bedroom door.

he smiled sadly, nodding before leaning down to kiss your forehead and heading to the door. to your dismay, he left it open a crack in case you’d called for him.

you picked out mismatched pyjamas- a devils tshirt that went down to your calves and your rapunzel pyjama pants.

getting them on was a struggle- the size of the shirt making it so that your head went through every hole before finally ending up through the appropriate one, and your pants being put on backwards due to you not paying mind to look for the tag before sliding them on.

the second go around, you looked twice for the tag before sitting on the floor and getting them on, your previous attempt almost ending in you falling on your face due to how long your shirt was.

you ran out of the room and to nico with red cheeks from the frustrations of your change and he greeted you by picking you back up and setting you on his hip enthusiastically, faking a groan and beaming over at you

“i did it!” you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck and whipping your head around at the door opening

“what did you do, munchkin? tax fraud?” jack yelled from the door, having heard your excited squeals from behind the door as he unlocked it.

nico smiled at his friend, setting you down so you could run to your uncle and jump up onto his shoulder- with his guidance.

“haven’t you heard? i have a teenager now. she’s changing all by herself,” nico gave you a pointed look, teasing you at your insistence that you didn’t want his help with the little things anymore

in reality, he felt a pang in his heart at the proud look on your face as you gushed to jack about your newfound ability to pick out your own outfits and find your way into them sans everything being backwards and inside out

you didn’t need his help anymore.

well. you did, but you were growing to be able to do most things on your own. soon, he’d be letting you pour your own juice, cut up your own hotdogs. he wouldn’t have to split the spaghetti in half before cooking it anymore.

“well. i guess i made the right choice of snack cause i got you…” jack trailed off, setting you down and rummaging in the bag he brought, pulling out what he’d gotten for you and crouching to your level

“blue gato and gummy bears. the teenagers common meal,” jack wiggled his eyebrows, opening his arms as you knocked into him for thank you hug.

“thank you uncle jacky,” you wrapped around him and then quickly pulled away, grabbing the snacks and running to the living room, screaming about watching sully.

your refusal to call it by its true name stemming from not knowing what ‘inc.’ stood for, something nico wished would never go away.

the three of you got situated on the couch, the bag of gummy bears sat in your lap and your head leant on nico’s shoulder.

eventually, after you’d been banned from anymore gummy bears, you’d dragged yourself into his lap and clung onto his shirt, blinking away sleep as you watched the scene where they tried to make boo laugh

by the time the scene was over, you were out cold in his arms, lips parted and breathing slowed to a peaceful pattern of exhaustion.

he kept still until the movie was nearly over, glancing down at you while mike gifted sully the broken piece of boo’s door. he watched as you stirred, eyes fluttering slightly and your grip on his shirt tightening.

“you know you’re allowed to be a little sad that she’s growing up,” jack whispered, looking over at his best friend and niece before popping a piece of candy into his mouth

“what?” nico furrowed his eyebrows, shaking his head. he tried to play it off like he wasn’t dumb, he knew you would grow up and simultaneously away. like he’d been expecting it, and was feeling neutral.

“i saw the face you made, when she was talking about changing by herself. she’s your little girl- pretty much the one constant in your life and she’s changing, that’s allowed to be fucking with you,” jack raised an eyebrow, and nico bit the inside of his cheek.

“i just never want her to feel like she needs to hold herself back cause i want her to stay my baby,” he murmured, kissing you on the head.

“trust me. nothing is stopping her, ever,” jack chuckled, and nico smiled, nodding.

“i’m gonna go tuck miss grown up in and then we can watch something that’s not disney,” he patted jack on the shoulder, carefully standing up and adjusting you on his hip to bring you to your room.

jack nodded and took the remote, flicking through nico’s netflix account and deciding on a movie while you were being settled.

nico tucked you under the covers, placing your favourite stuffy by your heart before kissing you on the forehead once more and making his way to your bathroom.

he plugged in the little hockey stick night light you had, one you’d grown up using next to your bed and now kept in the bathroom for when you needed to pee at night.

he looked at you from the bathroom door, sighing and making his way out of the room, quietly closing the door.

to you, everything’s funny. you have nothing to regret. i’d give all i have honey, if you could stay like that

your giggles echoes through jacks apartment as luke let you play with his hair, butterfly clips and colourful elastics taking over nearly every curl

“you said you wanted to learn how to braid, kid. this is not braiding,” luke grumbled, looking over at jack who was taking pictures for nico.

“i already know how to braid. this is much more fun,” you retorted, falling on your side and onto the arm rest of the couch from your own giggles.

luke pouted from the floor, avoiding the gaze of his brothers camera, but secretly knowing that nico would love to open his phone in the morning to the video.

it was evident to the whole team that their captain was deeply resenting how much you’d been maturing lately, and to see you laugh at something so, well- stupid, would probably help him come to terms with it a little.

“why are you filming, jack?” you tilted your head, your laugh finally subsiding.

“for your dad, he’ll think it’s funny! also- what happened to uncle jacky,” he teased, earning a blush from you.

“gross. i’m not 5 anymore,” you pouted, and then your eyes landed on your work on luke’s hair. you gulped, starting to pull the clips and ties out of it.

his hand came up to stop yours, his head leaning back and his eyebrows furrowing with concern.

“hey! those are mine now,” his nose scrunched as you tried to push his head back straight, his hand slapping yours away and his head jerking away from you.

you rolled your eyes, getting up off the couch and storming towards your designated room at jacks place, slamming the door.

luke and jack shared a look, the eldest immediately shooting a text for nico to ditch whatever movie he was watching while you were meant to be having your ‘hughes sleepover’ and come over.

it was a crisp fifteen minutes before you heard the knock on the door of your room and you groaned, assuming it was jack trying to coax you out of your bad mood

you ignored him, shoving your face in your pillow, but not blocking your ears in enough time to hear that it was nico, murmuring a soft ‘sonnenschein’ from behind the door.

“go away,” you grumbled, pausing while staring at the door. “and don’t call me that,” you stated, voice crystal clear now.

nico’s lips parted, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned his head against the door.

“sweetheart, come on,” he pleaded, holding back from opening the door with the knowledge that it doesn’t lock.

when you didn’t answer, he took that as his queue to crack the door open. you were already staring at him, legs pulled up to your chest and the hood of one of jacks sweaters draped over your eyes

“why did they get you to come here when i’m fine anyways?” you asked, blinking away your worries as he closed the door and sat on the edge of your bed.

“probably because you’re not fine and i’m your dad,” he gave you a pointed look and you groaned, throwing your head back and letting your legs go straight.

“neither of them know what they said to upset you, sonnenschein. they’re worried, so am i,” he murmured, putting a hand on your calf and shaking it slightly, the nickname slipping out so effortlessly he hadn’t noticed he used it.

“cause we go through this same cycle where all of the sudden you feel smaller than everyone else and you hide away-“

“if i’m gonna be smaller than someone it’s definitely not jack.” nico stifled a laugh, shaking his head at your attempts to ward off his concerns with comedy.

he stayed looking at you, waiting until you eventually sighed and sat up to sit next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder.

you picked at the skin around your nails, his hand coming to knock yours apart at the nervous tic you’d seemed to pick up recently

“i don’t have any friends. not real ones, anyways. i always feel like you guys are talking about something secret and you just use kid words. everything means something else and i can feel it but i don’t understand,”

you finally looked up to him with nerves clear in your eyes and he frowned.

he cupped your head, kissing your temple and moving to rub your back. “sonnen- uh, y/n.. sometimes there are just things that you don’t need to know, yeah?”

you furrowed your eyebrows, a pang of guilt ringing at the solemn tone when he cut himself off from using your nickname.

“your life has been different, but it hasn’t been faster. i never wanted you to need to grow faster.” he murmured, humming slightly after to note he’d gotten your attention.

“some conversations are like scary movies. you always think you want to see them when you’re little, and when you finally know what it’s all about your heart goes fast, sometimes it’s a good thing, sometimes no,” you stared at your lap, contemplating what he was trying to explain

“sometimes there are scary movies kids can watch,” you tried, peeking over at him and seeing as he cracked a small smile.

“sometimes there are adult conversations kids should get to talk in,” he winked, squeezing your shoulder and bringing you closer to him, like a sat side hug.

you grinned to yourself, turning and wrapping your arms around him, burying your face into his chest.

“i don’t want to not be sonnenschein yet,” you murmured, nicos eyes fluttering shut in relief.

“you’ll always be my sonnenschein. and you gotta promise me you’ll never be embarrassed to have fun, hm? i better be sending you dumb pictures of jack from the retirement home knowing you’ll get a good laugh out of it,” you smiled and nodded.

“ok. you’re not allowed to go to a retirement home, though,”

you’re in the car on the way to the movies, and you’re mortified your moms dropping you off,

“no! dad! stop over here, stop the car. i can walk from here,” you fussed, face flushing after he’d teased that he would walk you to the door so he could see the boy you’d been going out with.

“i was joking, sonnenschein. i’ll bring you to the lot, c’mon,” he chuckled, looking over at you with not an ounce of hesitation to keep driving

“pull over,” you bit, fixing your hat on your head and sighing in relief as nico slowed the car down and pulled into a nearby parking lot.

“god, i should’ve just had him drive me-“

“he drives?” you pursed your lips, your dads eyes blown wide looking at you while you tried to come up with a defence.

“he has his permit.. but him mom lets him drive alone! it’s not like he’s that much older, dad, please don’t-“

“y/n, he drives,” he stated again, eyes widening a little further to add to the effect of his shock.

you tilted your head back with a groan, slouching in your seat in embarrassment.

“you’re going out with a boy at least two years older than you! he’s in high school,” he tried to reason, genuine worry etched all over his face at the age gap between you and your new boy

“i would be in highschool next month too if you would just let me stay home during road trips, but no! you drag me across the continent all year cause you don’t trust me! you can’t even trust me with this!” you shouted, arms gesturing vaguely in reference to the situation.

your stomach dropped as you watched his face fall, hurt clear in his gaze and his eyebrows drawn together slightly.

you had never discussed wanting to stay home and go to public school before now, and if he’d known it’s what you wanted he would’ve gotten someone to watch you years ago.

he couldn’t ignore the ache in his heart as he unlocked the car doors and adjusted in his seat, nodding stiffly.

“have fun. i’ll see you after,” he cleared his throat and you frowned, not moving an inch towards your door handle

“dad, i didn’t mean-“

“it’s alright. enjoy your movie,” he cut you off, avoiding your eyes. you sighed, dragging yourself out of the car and grabbing your bag, starting off towards the parking lot.

you waved shyly from ways away to your date, who’d already been standing waiting at the door.

“i thought your dad was driving you?” he tilted his head, the underlying meaning of his concern already swarming in your head.

“oh, uh. his practice ran late so i just took the bus,” you nodded, trying to walk into the building.

“he’ll pick you up though, right?” he pressed, not shifting from his position though you were nearly at the second row of doors.

you paused, still feeling guilt ridden from the way you’d lashed out at nico as you pulled out your phone.

“shit. i actually have to go, i’m so sorry,” you faked, sliding your phone into your hoodie sleeve and sliding past him, jogging back towards where you’d been dropped off.

pressing the phone to your ear, you hoped he would pick up. you knew he would- he always did.

“sonnenschein?” you closed your eyes, tears welting in them and desperately close to spilling.

“please come back,” you mumbled, sighing after the words spilled out, like a thousand pound weight had been taken off your lungs.

at fourteen there’s just so much you can’t do and you can’t wait to move out someday and call your own shots

“oh my god, dad. i’m gonna be fine!” you groaned, watching as your dad sifted through your school bag to make sure you had everything you needed.

“ok, kids don’t usually have their first days of school at fourteen. i’m nervous!” he defended, pouting slightly at you while you cracked a small smile.

you felt somewhat the opposite of nico- first day jitters something you apparently were immune to, even despite your peculiar circumstances regarding a ‘first day’

in your mind you had nothing to worry about. it would’ve been like you were simply transferring from another school

had you been any other kid transferring from online school, you might’ve been right

the second you walked into the building everyone either loved or hated you- there was no time to make your own impressions on people and have them determine if they wanted you around them or not, your family had already done that for you

even the people that weren’t interested in your dad and uncles, or even hockey in general seemed to have a clear idea of who you were.

it was easier for them to accept you, that way, you supposed. because most of the people approaching you to join groups at lunch or general social circles were evidently trying to avoid the topic despite obviously knowing you’d become the talk of the school.

by the end of the day you had clocked people attempting to sneak their way into the bubble with no true intentions of being your friend enough times for it to count towards a demographic.

not to mention, you’d heard things about your uncles you never thought you’d have to think about in your entire life

nobody stooped low enough to mention nico, at least.

you made it out of your last class with one friend. one person who wasn’t such a horrid liar they might as well have been telling you they were only in it to meet jack or timo right to your face.

you might’ve been alright with only one friend after your very first day of school had you not been the only name coming out of everyone’s mouth.

when you got home you dropped to the couch like a bag of rocks, your dad smiling bright as he was about to ask you about your day

when he saw your expression, his own dropped and he opened his posture for you to plop sideways into his arms.

“i can never look at jack in the eyeballs, like, ever again. maybe even luke, i just.. ew” you shivered in disgust, trying to shake everything you heard today out of your vision

“gross, sonnenschein. but we both know that’s not actually what’s bugging you,” he raised an eyebrow, earning a sigh from you as you adjusted to look up at him.

“it’s bugging me plenty, actually. but yeah. it just wasn’t great overall,” your voice trailed off at the end of your words, eyes flickering away from his as questions filled your head

“do you ever get sick of everyone thinking they know you, but you don’t know them? and then it’s like from that point, you can’t do anything to convince them that you’re not who they decided you were before you even introduced yourself, if you ever get the chance,” you asked, messing with the stray string dangling from the sleeve of your shirt

nico pondered. it didn’t really bother him. he knew what came with his job, and though he did his best to shield you from that, he couldn’t truly avoid it all even if he made a deal with the gods.

because he was all you had, there wasn’t any real way to hide you unless he left you to fend, something he knew he wouldn’t even think of.

“i think it can be a good challenge for you. you’re not me, or j, or luke, or whoever- i dont even want to touch on that. again; ew. but you’ll be able to show them you’re your own person, i know you will,” you shook your head, not even clocking his attempt to make you laugh

“they don’t care that i’m my own person. they know. it doesn’t matter if my own person is the coolest person ever. all they see is a door. i’m a door,” you explained.

you and nico had a thing for analogies. seemingly, even if they made no sense to anyone around, you two knew what you meant.

a lot of your uncles had tried to learn the language, but they never could communicate it like you and him, it was something you figured came with being his daughter- you inherited his vocabulary quirks.

“some of them have to care. when a door is locked, someone who actually wants to open it will find the key. everyone else will try and give up, a door won’t open for them, and you don’t need to. it’s not your job to give away the key,”

he ruffled your hair, brushing your bangs out of your face and giving you a pointed look- he didn’t want you to let everyone in just because you felt you needed to be popular

“and what if someone finds the key but doesn’t really care about what it means? leaves the door wide open,” you mumbled, clearly a little insecure that someone with enough will could slip though your usually prime ability to read people’s intentions

“well. in this case i think our door comes equipped with enough sass to kill an army. you’ll do well,” he winked, patting you on the shoulder.

“anything good about today? cant have been all bad,” you smiled a little, starting to talk about the one friend you made.

though it hadn’t been long, you trusted him.

nico seemed content enough that you made a friend, with not much regard that he was a boy or that you were very obviously looking at him with rose coloured glasses.

he trusted your judgement, he wanted that to be known.

“.. i actually was gonna ask if he could come over to help me catch up on some of the classes tomorrow?” you said hopefully, sitting up from your spot to stare at nico and hold your hands together wishfully

“that’s funny, sonnenschein. i have a game, you can stay home alone but you’re not having anyone over,” he stated, stern enough to get his point across, but not to intimidate

“that’s not fair! i’m old enough to hang out with a friend when you’re not here,” you complained, eyes dropping to a pout and your cheeks getting a little warm at your frustrations

“maybe, but you just met him and i don’t know him. it’s not happening,” you rolled your eyes, giving up on trying to convince him due to your lack of defence.

all you wanted was to be normal, and you knew that this was something kids your age usually did. they hung out with their friends, they claimed to be studying despite only ever watching movies and playing games

when you had your own place, your own individual life, you’d be allowed to do whatever you pleased. well, sort of, obviously.

“mom probably would’ve said yes,” nico glared at you as a warning, shaking his head with disappointment

“i knew her longer, i think she would’ve told you no,” he said calmly, trying to switch topics after he made himself clear

“you knew her longer? what, like three minutes longer?” you pressed, his eyes going a little wide, both from hurt and frustration

“i’m going to ignore the fact that you’re not meant to know what that joke means because i know that you’re frustrated, but your mama gave me you, and for that i love her, it doesn’t matter what we were before you came”

you didn’t know much about your mom and dad, but you knew they weren’t together.

“you weren’t anything before i came! you probably weren’t even meant to know me, cause she would’ve wanted me to be normal, all i want is to do normal shit!”

you started raising your voice, backing away from him and unfolding your legs, getting ready to stand up.

nico frowned as he watched tears pool in your eyes and your legs finally deciding to plant to the floor, standing and quickly walking away to your room.

he didn’t have much else to say, but he knew he needed to say it.

so, he made your favourite meal and knocked quietly on your door, a bowl already made for you in one hand while he used the other to push his hair back.

he jumped a little when your door swung open, your grouchy expression meeting his hopeful one.

you took the bowl from him, quickly setting it on your desk and latching your arms around his waist, head buried into his chest.

nico sighed, squeezing you back just as tight and pressing his nose into your hairline

“i’m sorry i said that about mama,” you whispered, sniffling into his shirt quietly.

“that’s okay, baby. you had a hard day. i’m just trying to make sure you’re being safe, you know?” you nodded slightly, moving your hands to grip onto his shirt

“kids are never allowed to do anything, i just want to be my own person,” you breathed out, jumbled in with your hiccups, a side effect of your tears.

“he’ll come over, sonnenschein. not tomorrow, but he will,”

take pictures in your mind of your childhood room, memorize what it sounded like when your dad gets home remember the footsteps, remember the words said

“its only a three day trip, dad, i’m gonna be fine!” you smiled at nico, excited to be home for the first time during a road trip. you loved going on them sometimes, but going on every single one for your entire life was tiring.

nico had still barely processed how much his routines were changing right in front of his eyes.

rather than setting you up for your online classes or making sure your book work was getting done, he was giving you a kiss on the forehead before you left for the bus in the morning.

rather than make sure all of your necessities were packed, he needed to make sure he had enough stuff in the house for you to keep yourself fed and taken care of while he went off alone.

“you call me if you need something? if i don’t answer the-“ you shook your head, the idea of him not responding to you sounding insane

“dad. you’ve had amanda bring you your phone on the bench for me before. i know you’ll answer if i need you,” you chuckled, his concerned face faltering to a small smile at your words

it was important to him that you knew you would always have access to him no matter what he was doing. hockey was his job, but technically so were you, and sometimes one had to come over the other. that was a war he swore you would always win.

"okay. but seriously if i don't pick up, then call the entire roster and every member of the organization until someone can get me to you," he reiterated, a smile taking over your lips as you rolled your eyes and wrapped your arms around his waist.

"i'm gonna be fine. but yeah, i promise," you confirmed, nico's chest feeling a little lighter as he wrapped you in a hug and rested his chin on top of your head

"and hey. stop growing on me, please?" he asked, pulling back a little to cup your face. you'd gotten a little too tall for nico's liking recently, started growing into what you'd look like for your adolescence. you'd lost your baby cheeks and the blonde ends of your hair had been long cut off and replaced with the same chocolate brown that adorned his own head.

you were always tall for your age, and it had only been highlighted for you recently, when you started going to school in person. only a few of the other kids matched your height or surpassed it, and you were definitely proud to say that you were catching up to jack (in your opinion, at least)

it was against most odds that you would end up growing taller than him, but nico was starting to honestly get worried.

soon, you would be driving yourself places and it felt like he only had a small amount of time left before you wouldn't need him anymore, especially now that he was allowing you to stay on your own during road trips.

you were cooking for yourself, you could stay home alone and had it not been for the horrid bus and subway scheduling in the city, there wasn't much that you truly relied on nico for anymore.

so he started cooking more often, started trying to get you to come with him to practices like you did when you were just a kid, as if you weren't anymore.

he had you come on the ice with him after the main practice, and sometimes akira would come out with the two of you and let you shoot.

he had the team agree to have a little scrimmage with you, allowing you to be captain of your own team, rivalling jack, of course. he let the two of you hold a mini draft and it was like he could breathe again when your first pick was used on him.

he was scavenging for things the two of you to do together. he found shows he thought you might like and couldn't wipe his smile when you fell in love with them, and refused to watch any new episodes without him

he tried to get jack to agree to movie nights, like the three of you used to, even though he was starting to build a family of his own and had much less time

he wanted to learn new recipes with you and even hosted christmas for jack, luke dawson and john that year so that you could help him with dinner.

he brought you on random errands with him just to soak up any of the time he had left with you.

that's why the three days he was gone felt more like three weeks. you were bored, lonely, and most importantly, cooking was much less fun without your dad. over the course of the last three days you found yourself on the balanced diet of uber eats and air fried chicken strips.

when you heard the door crack open at early morning it woke you, and you nearly fell out of your bed with how quickly you tried to get up and get your pyjama shorts on.

for a moment you listened, the sound of nico's duffel bag hitting the floor ringing familliarly in your ears, followed by the clattering of the shoe rack in the entrance from him setting down the shoes he wore on the plane

you were at the door as nico set his coat on the rack next to it, arms secured around him tight and his face lighting up at your excitement.

"hi, sonnenchein," without any words to describe what you were feeling, sleep still prominent in your eyes and your brain lagging from how fast you jolted to get to him, you just muttered "you can unpack later"

with that, you took his wrist and dragged him to the couch, his smile only ever growing as you pulled him down and fell right back asleep on his arm.

"i can unpack later," he confirmed, kissing your forehead.

so here i am in my new apartment in a big city, they just dropped me off, it's so much colder than i thought it would be so i tuck myself in and turn my nightlight on

"that's the last box!" you smiled, shoving the box of jack's truck shut and nudging him a little "i'm officially free" you wiggled your eyebrows

you seemed so genuinely happy to be leaving that nico almost felt guilty for how much he truly hated it. when you originally found the apartment, nico figured you would be denied because of your age- it wasn't every day that an 18 year old was trusted with monthly rent in new york city.

and then one day, you came skipping into the living room like a kid on christmas, an email open on your phone saying that your application was approved and you would be moving into your very own place on the first of the following month.

when he heard the news nico felt like his entire world was coming crashing down, but he refused to make that known to you. he knew how excited you were and he felt like it was his responsibility not to ruin it.

after all, this time would have come eventually, it was just coming so seemingly soon. he felt like he was bringing you home from the hospital just yesterday.

he stayed for as long as possible when he was helping you unpack all of your things, requesting at about 6 oclock that he order the two of you delivery and have movie night, even if it meant he was getting back to jersey so late at night he knew he'd regret it at morning skate.

you were happy to agree, even mentioning that you should host movie night and dinner a couple times a month, hopefully every week if your schedules allowed it.

nico was almost in tears as he nodded at your proposal, pulling up the doordash app on his phone and his thumb immediately going to your shared favourite restaurant, like it was a reflex.

"you look like you're trying really hard not to sneeze," you giggled, leaning on his shoulder and nodding as he hovered his thumb over your usual order, confirming it was what you wanted.

he breathed out a laugh, trying to stay light in order to spare the guilt he knew you'd feel if you had any idea how he was really feeling. you knew he was sad to see you grow up, but you surely didn't know the extent of how much he loathed it.

"it's sad for me, sonnenschein. my baby is moving- moved. my baby is moved out," he smiled sadly, looking down at you as your face twisted into realization.

"the only thing that's changing is that i'm not sleeping at yours anymore, dad. we'll still see each other all the time," you tried, genuinely tries to explain that you didn't think it would be that big of a change.

"i know. but it wont be as easy to just peek my head into your room and decide i want to spend the day with my girl. i wont get to see all of the dramatics in your daily rundowns even though i know you'll still text them to me," he explained, reminiscing at past times you'd told him stories and he got to see them animate with the flailing of your arms and the exasperated widening of your eyes.

"i didn't think of it like that. i only thought that we'd still be the same.." you murmured, the severity of the change you were making suddenly dawning on you as you took in what he was saying

"we'll be as close to the same as we can get, sonnenschein. i promise you," he kissed your temple, feeling you shift uncomfortably under his arm, your brain racing as you started to overthink

"yeah." you whispered, eyes drifting to the little hockey stick nightlight that was glowing in your very own kitchen. yeah.

oh, i don't wanna grow up wish i'd never grown up, could still be little. oh, i don't wanna grow up wish i'd never grown up, it could still be simple

"dad" you cried into the phone, clutching your chest and blinking away tears, not knowing what else you could say to grab his attention meaningfully.

"y/n?" you heard amanda's voice come in through the other side of the phone, then her keys jostling around as she made her way to the dressing room.

"it's- the game is over right? he's in the dressing room, he can take the phone?" you rushed out as best as you could, your voice shaking along with your jaw, making it hard for her to understand you.

"i'm almost there, just one second, y/n/n. can you take a deep breath for me?" you nodded, though she couldn't see you, taking a shaky breath in and out and clutching tighter at your chest.

"sonnenschein?" an out of breath nico came in from the other side of the phone, basically fresh off the ice from a win. you could hear him trying to get his equipment off while holding the phone, instructing dawson to help with his skates quietly as you tried to explain to him what was happening

"i don't know what's wrong, i- all of the sudden i just-" you shook your head, unable to explain yourself.

nico shushed you gently, requesting you focus more on your breathing than trying to explain yourself to him.

"my whole face just.. went numb, and then the rest of me, and i couldn't stop shaking, i can't stop shaking, i can't breathe, i don't like it," you cried, with a lot of trial and error in your words and your jaw aching from how hard you were trying to stop the shivering.

"you're okay, baby, i'm almost done. i'm gonna come get you, okay? and i'll stay for as long as you need me, i'm here, you're safe," he soothed, earning a cry from you as that's all you could really get yourself to let out

"where are you?" he asked slowly, tugging on the shirt of his suit and not even bothering to grab most of his things, jack would have it. lindy had made him unavailable for interviews since he saw amanda with the phone

"bathroom," you worked out, closing your eyes and focusing on your breaths. having him on the phone was doing somewhat of a wonder, knowing he would be with you to help soon was an even greater one.

".. do you feel sick, sonnenschein?" he murmured, trying to read what could have set your brain afire

"no, i don't think so. the floor. the floor is cold, i wanted cold," you clarified, your brain a scrambled mess of emtotions. you knew the underlying issue, you just didn't know why it was affecting you so gravely

“but now i’m shivering, and i can’t move-“ you tried, nico shushing you softly over the phone so you wouldn’t further stress yourself

"do you have a towel close? maybe put the towel on. warm up some. i'm in the car now, baby, i'm almost there with you," he remained eerily level headed despite the anxiety in his stomach caused by your own panicking.

he never wanted to have to hear you in this state for as long as he lived.

the line went quiet for a few moments as you ruffled around as quickly as you could manage, your limbs feeling like dead weight as you tugged your towel from it's hook and wrapped it around your shoulders

nico got adjusted in the drivers seat. buckling up and backing out of his spot silently and being grateful his car allowed him to hear you clearly

"dad?" he hummed, the sound coming through your phone softly and causing you to sniffle.

"tell me about when i was younger" you muttered, eyes fluttering shut in preparation for him to talk, like nothing was wrong, like he'd been calling back on something happy he'd always wanted to share with you and had only now remembered.

"when you were just small, you were very attached to lots of the team. your favourite was dawson. i think jack was a little insulted, but daws was so proud of himself," he started, gulping a little. it had been so long since you were that young

"he always brought you something for game days. usually a little toy or candy, sometimes he would colour with you before the game started, i think it helped remind him that the pressure didn't need to be on all the time." nico smiled to himself a little, looking back on how happy he was that the team loved you like that.

"he would carry you around the arena on his shoulders and you would tap all of the banners on the wall. he would stop if you wanted to trace or look at something. the first christmas he knew you he got you a big lego set.. a pretty garden with lots of flowers," you smiled sadly, clutching your chest and finding it helped soothe you

"during the all star break you guys built it together. you kept it on your dresser for so many years. you always fell asleep in his cubby if i had media and he was already gone... do- do you want me to keep-" you didn't need him to finish talking

"yes" he chuckled slightly, glad that your voice seemed to have returned even if you didn't quite notice it yourself. he was glad he could distract you.

he continued on to tell you about the first time you changed into your own pyjamas. the first time you cut up your own hot dog. the first time you made your own sandwich for lunch and put entirely too much butter on the slice of bread.

he told you about when you learnt to swim and skate, and as he worked through the heavy post-game traffic in newark, you both found a little peace in his words.

he told you countless little stories from your childhood up until he pushed open the door to your apartment, making his way to the bathroom and sitting on the floor next to you.

you were still shaking, twitching repeatedly, it seemed. almost like you were shivering from the cold and wet, but your skin was hot to the touch.

regardless, you climbed into his arms and clutched onto his shirt with the hand that wasn't over your heart.

"do you wanna tell me what's wrong, sonnenschein?" you looked up at him worriedly, like you thought he wouldn't approve of your answer.

"i don't think i'm ready. everything is too much," tears spilled from your eyes and nico's own softened, his arms tightening around your shoulders.

"i wanted to be on my own so bad i didn't realize how much of me still needed you there. i want my dad back. i want to have breakfast with you in the mornings and i want to know i have you there if i need, and i know i do. it just feels like i don't, in a way. i want to come home," you blurted, hiding away into his arm from embarrassment.

"i didn't realize how much it had affected me until i wasn't sleeping, and then, well- this." you finally looked up at your dad to find him with teary eyes, a little hurt laced in them.

"you didn't need to keep that from me, baby. you wanna know a secret?" you furrowed your eyebrows, nodding.

"i never wanted you to leave me. i haven't touched any of your room," you smiled a little, your face however turning to a grimace as you tried to fight tears. you sobbed into his arms, clutching on for dear life.

"it's too late, though. i have to stay here, don't i? i can't come home," you panicked again, your shakes that had previously calmed down some now back a little stronger.

"i would never let you sign anything that made you stuck, sonnenschein. i'll talk to the landlord. we'll get you home," he kissed your forehead, rubbing your back and cooing a 'shh' slightly to calm you down.

"can you stay here tonight?" you asked, voice a little raw, now.

"i'd never dream of leaving, my sunshine," he whispered against your hairline. his tears seeping into it a little.

"i love you, dad."

"i love you, too, baby,"

#e’s fics #nico hischier #nico hischier x reader #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #new jersey devils #i'm not crying you're crying

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