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unwrittenlibrary · 3 years ago

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keep you warm and safe

summary // bonus part to my arms will hold you; bucky and his wife as she goes through the twelve hours of labor. stories, pain, games, jello and lots of love. [established bucky barnes x fem! reader]

words // 3.2k

warnings // depiction of labor, epidural usage, hospital birth & excessive use of nickname pretty girl

notes // eeeeeeeeeek i was so excited for this request! i love bucky + the mrs + this dynamic so much. note this is written in a similar style as the first piece; snippets of each hour.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

Hour One

Bucky doesn’t know what to do to help you, that much is obvious to you. It might even make you laugh, if it hadn’t been for the pain that was coming and going. Dr. O had apologetically explained that you were only six centimeters dilated and would have to wait until you were at ten, which you knew, but it still sucked to hear.

You groan, a mixture of pain and annoyance, as Bucky looks at your doctor sadly. “How long will that take?” He asks curiously.

She shrugs before pulling up your chart on the tablet at the end of your bed. “It really depends. It could be anywhere from an hour to more than twelve. Every woman goes through the stages of labor differently.”

Bucky’s hand is still rubbing your stomach gently as he continues to ask questions. “But her water broke. Her contractions are only a few minutes apart. How can it take another, like, ten hours?”

Your hand grips him tightly. “Buck, it doesn’t matter.” You say in a tired voice.

He turns to you a little apologetically. “Sorry, I’m just curious.” He admits sheepishly. Dr. O takes her leave with a kind smile and a gentle pat on your shin. Bucky looks down at you again. “Dads didn’t really go in the room with their wives when I was younger. My dad and I sat out in the waiting room when Becca was born.”

You look at him with curious eyes. “Really? Your mom was all alone?”

“I think my grandma was with her for a while, but yeah, pretty much.” He shrugs. “We were let in after Rebecca was cleaned and wrapped up. It’s nice being able to be with you. I just want to help.”

Your heart swells at his admission. “That’s so sweet, Bucky.” You whisper resting your head against his shoulder. “Tell me about that day.” You demand quietly, hoping a story would help distract you.

“I don’t really remember much of it.” Bucky starts. “But I remember my dad and I sitting in the waiting room and you know, we lived in such a gloomy time. Before the depression we weren’t too well off, so I know my parents were a little stressed about having two of us hooligans.” He laughs gently and you smile. You feel yourself relax at his voice and although there’s still pain, you’re not struggling to breathe anymore. “But when my dad saw Becca and the nurse let him hold her I saw it all go away. My mom let me crawl into the bed with her. Nothing like this one, mind you. It was smaller and way less comfortable, but she still wrapped her arm around me and kissed my head and my dad introduced me to Becca.” He hastily wipes a tear away. “It’s one of the few good memories I have of back then.”

“I’m so sorry, Bucky.” You say, a little guilty. You hadn’t meant to make him sad by bringing up his family. “I wish they could meet me and our babies.”

Bucky smiles down at you then presses a kiss to your cheek. “Me too, but I know they’re proud of me. I know they would’ve loved you. That’s all I need.”

You groan as another contraction hits and Bucky sits up a little straighter, his hand immediately rubbing up and down your back. “You’re so strong. I love you so much.” He murmurs as you breathe deeply.

“I’m so proud of you.” You say a moment later when the sharp pain has passed and you have a second to breathe.

Bucky snorts and looks you over with his eyes. “Not prouder than I am of you. Nothing I’ve done in this lifetime can compare to what you’re doing right now.”

And - well - a small part of you wants to argue that Bucky saved lives daily, but the rest of you agreed. Bucky would never do this and his support and pure adoration made it a little easier.

Hour Three

“I’m hungry.” You complain. Dr. O had left a little over twenty minutes ago after declaring you were still only dilated six centimeters, which felt impossible but who were you to argue with her? “What can I eat?”

Bucky’s begun pulling out some of the stuff you had packed in the go bag and organizing it in the small hospital dresser.

“The nurse said I can get you ice chips or jello, but that’s really it.” He answers apologetically. You sigh mournfully. All you really wanted was something to fill you up. “Want me to grab some?”

“Jello, please.” You shrug. “Are you sure I can’t eat anything? I want, like, mashed potatoes.” You tap your fingers against your stomach as you adjust your pillow behind you with one arm.

Bucky laughs as he comes over to you. “I’m sure, pretty girl.” His hand cups your cheek gently and you look up at him with a pout. “I’ll bring you some jello.”

“Thank you.” You smile up at him. Dr. O enters as he leaves and he pauses. “Go! I’ll be fine.” You wave him away as she comes to your bedside. He waits for a moment before finally stepping out of the room. You look at Dr. O with a tired smile. “Checking me again?” You ask.”

“I will in a little while. I came to talk to you about an epidural. You’ve already been in labor for a few hours and it looks like you’ll be one of the women who is in labor for a tough amount of time.” She explains gently. “It’s completely up to you. You have some time to think.”

You nod. Your contractions still hurt and they took the wind out of you when they came every few minutes, so it didn’t feel like the worst idea. “Come back in half an hour? Can I have some time to think?”

“Of course!” She nods. “Take your time. Remember nobody is here to judge you, it’s your body and your choice entirely.”

You smile. “Thank you.” You relax against your pillow as you wait for Bucky to return with your jello. You think of Dr. O’s advice torn between having a natural birth and the gruelling pain it could leave you in for hours.

“I come bearing jello.” Bucky pushes the door open softly and smiles at you with two cups of jello in his hand. You frown at their small size and Bucky chuckles. “I know they’re small, that's why I brought you two.”

You smile gratefully when he peels one open and hands it to you along with a small spoon. You moan at the taste of it and the feeling of being able to eat something even though it’s something small like jello.

“Dr. O asked if I wanted an epidural.” You murmur in between bites. Bucky nods. “What will that do?” He asks curiously.

You take a deep breath as pain shoots through you. “Help with these contractions in case labor goes on for hours. I don’t know some women just go entirely natural, I’m torn.”

“Well is it unsafe?” He asks before handing you the second cup. You shake your head. “There are risks to every medical procedure. It’s not like, bad for the babies but it can have some risky side effects.” You explain.

Bucky looks at you with intent, like he doesn’t want to miss a word that comes out of your mouth. “You know it’s up to you. Nobody else's opinion should matter, it’s not their body.”

You take a deep breath. “I know… I just don’t want people to think I’m like, not woman enough or-“

“Stop.” Bucky cuts you off harshly. You look at him with wide eyes. “Pretty girl, nobody can tell you anything about your choices. Got that?” He tilts his head so you’re forced to look him in the eyes.

You’ve always loved Bucky’s eyes. His emotions reflected in the blue that held your own stare until you nod slowly.

He smiles then flexes his vibranium arm. “And if they do, they can deal with me.”

Hour Five

“Call them back!” You laugh as you sit up in bed. The pain has lessened considerably after the epidural at hour four, when you had only been dilated around seven centimeters. “I’m fine, Buck!”

Bucky looks hesitant as he pulls the phone out. “Are you sure, pretty girl? If you’re tired you can take a nap or-“

“Bucky.” You whine a little. “I want to talk to my friend! Call Sam back!” He sighs as he pulls out his phone and sets it up on your little tray for food.

It rings for a few moments before Sam’s face appears on the screen with a wide smile. “My favorite people!” He cheers when he sees you two both in frame. “Man, has anybody told you how beautiful you look right now?” He says sweetly.

You roll your eyes. “Only every hour. Bucky won’t stop saying it.” You nudge his side playfully. “I look like a disaster, but I appreciate it.”

Sam and Bucky both shake their heads. “Not true at all. You look like a goddess.” Bucky says sternly. You giggle as Sam snorts.

“How far along are you?” He asks. You shrug. “About three more centimeters to go, but the doctor said it could take awhile.”

“Should Steve and I come camp out in the waiting room?” He smirks. “I’m about to buy out the whole gift store.”

You laugh. “Not necessary! Bucky will text you when we get closer if you want to come down.”

Sam rolls his eyes good naturedly. “Of course we do. Life gets so boring here at the compound. Steve!” He yells out. You and Bucky flinch at the drastic change in tone. “Steve! Come here!” He looks back at the camera. “He came to help with training today, that worked out great, didn’t it? We can carpool.”

You both nod as Steve forces his face into the camera view. You and Bucky smile brightly at him and wave. “Hey! You guys look great! I can’t believe you’re gonna have two babies soon.”

“I can!” You shake your head. “Almost nine months of these babies inside of me, I can’t wait to have them in my arms. I want to drink coffee again and have wine!”

The three men laugh and Bucky presses a kiss to your forehead. There’s a knock at your door and you two look up to see one of the nurses quietly coming in. “We’ve gotta go! Bucky will text you when you can come down.” You wave goodbye before Bucky grabs his phone and sits up.

“Hi!” She smiles brightly. “I wanted to come in and say hi, there’s a shift change right now so you'll be seeing me for the next twelve hours.”

You frown. “Is Dr. O still here?”

She nods. “Dr. O is on call for you! We’ll be doing regular checks and then we’ll call her back when we believe it’s time to start.” You nod gratefully as she moves towards your bed.

Hour Seven

“D1?” You look behind Bucky’s shoulder quickly before back down at your small model ocean. He lets out a defeated sigh and nods.

“Hit.” You smile victoriously as you place the red pin on your screen. You had sunk his carrier, cruiser and submarine. There were only two left. “A11?” He guesses.

You shake your head. “Miss.” He places yet another white pin on his screen. “E1?”

Bucky looks up at you suspiciously. “How are you so good at this?”

“I just know you, my love.” You smile a little too big and Bucky’s eyes narrow. “What?”

“You’re lying.” He looks your face over. “How are you cheating? Can you see over here?”

You let out an offended gasp. “I would never cheat!” Your tone is a little over dramatic, so you’re not really selling it, but it makes both of you dissolve into laughter.

Bucky turns around and catches the reflection of his board in the wall mounted television. He nods in an impressed manner before turning back to look at you. “Nice. I’ll let slide because you’re about to push out our children but any other time…” He trails off wagging a finger at you.

You laugh softly as he begins to pack away the game. “I love you, Buck.” You say sweetly.

He smiles at you. “I love you too, pretty girl.”

Hour Nine

“You’re at eight!” The nurse cheers. “Two more, mama! We’re so close!” You look over at her with a tired smile. You had been in and out of sleep since Bucky had packed away the Battleship game.

Bucky runs his fingers up and down your arm. His fingertips offer some cooling comfort, but you’re exhausted. Nine hours of sitting in the room, getting hourly checks and not being able to move around besides small walks has taken a toll.

“What do you need from me, pretty girl?” Bucky murmurs.

You shrug. “I want this to be over with. I want to have them in our arms. Why is it taking so long?” You mumble in a trembling voice. You hadn’t realized how emotionally exhausted you were too.

Bucky sighs sadly as he stares down at you. “I’m not sure, pretty girl. The doctor said every woman goes through labor differently.”

“That does nothing to help me.” You snap at him. Bucky’s eyes widen and you squeeze your eyes shut willing the tears gathering in them to go away.

You feel Bucky rub his hand up and down your arm. “You’re okay.” He whispers. “You can cry, pretty girl. Nobody is gonna judge you.” He says quietly, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek.

You open your eyes to look at him apologetically. “I’m sorry.” You whisper, but he shakes his head.

“Nothing you say or do while going through this is going to offend me.” He explains gently. “If you wanna yell at me, yell at me. Just let me help.”

You laugh wetly. “I’m not gonna emotionally abuse you.” You rest your hand over his on your cheek. “I just need you here to listen to me complain and say I know it sucks.”

“That’s it?” He chuckles and you shrug. “And maybe get back in bed with me for a couple minutes.” He smiles and you scoot over a little bit.

Bucky presses himself to your side and wraps a careful arm around you. You take a deep breath and rest your head against his shoulder. You don’t even notice the tears until Bucky begins to wipe them silently off your cheeks while pressing kisses to your forehead.

“You got this, pretty girl. Just a little while longer.”

You nod. “Get more jello for me, please?” You ask quietly. Bucky laughs, but moves to stand up. “The cherry flavor this time!” You call out as he opens the door, his laughter echoes in the hall and it makes you smile.

Hour Ten

“Nine! You’re doing so well! Your babies are almost here.” You smile brightly at the words and turn your head to look at Bucky.

“You know you can sleep a little? You’ve been awake this entire time.” You urge. Bucky had been with you every minute you were awake. He ate when you were asleep so you wouldn’t be jealous of the food. Finished unpacking your go bag and talking to nurses, you couldn’t imagine that he had found the time to rest. “I don’t want you passing out when you see what happens when I push these kids out.”

Bucky lets out a loud laugh. “I promise you I’ve seen worse.” He pulls one of the chairs up to sit beside you. Squeezing both of you on there had just become too hot and uncomfortable for you. “Besides, I slept for a little while you napped.”

“For how long?” You cross your arms over your stomach.

Bucky rubs the back of his neck. “Like twenty minutes? I’m fine, pretty girl. I used to go days without more than an hour of sleep. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“That’s why I worry about you.” Your hand finds his resting beside you on the bed. “I know you’ll play it off until you pass out from exhaustion.”

Bucky smiles like he’s surprised by your love for him. Maybe he still is, even after all this time together. You smile back. “I’m supposed to be the one comforting you, pretty girl. Not the other way around.” He teases.

You shake your head. “I think we’ve always been good at comforting each other. Doesn’t matter when.” Bucky smiles brightly at you with a nod.

“You’re always right.” He murmurs. “What would I do without you?” You open your mouth to respond. “Don’t answer. I don’t even like thinking about it.”

Hour Eleven

“God. Fuck.” You groan. The pressure you feel mixed with the dulled contractions was awful. “Can I push? Please?” You look down at Dr. O.

Your room has been set up with incubators, medical tools and you felt exposed to the group in front of you. She nods. “When you start, we’re gonna count to eight, okay? Then a rest period.” She looks between you and Bucky.

Bucky presses a quick kiss to your forehead before wrapping one of your hands between both of his. “Ready, mama?” You nod hastily as Dr. O begins to count out loud.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You squeeze your eyes shut and focus on her counting only letting out a breath when she says stop. “You look amazing right now.” Bucky whispers and you scoff.

“Just need you to breathe with her, Mr. Barnes.” Dr. O urges gently and he nods, breathing in with you before breathing out.

The routine breathing helps relax you for your small rest break before Dr. O begins counting again for another push. “You’re doing so well, pretty girl.”

Bucky’s got his left hand interlocked with yours. “Breathe.” Dr. O lets out. “You’re so close.” She cheers you on.

“I can’t do this. I can’t.” You shake your head with teary eyes. After hours and hours of restlessness, you’re exhausted. You can’t help but feel this will take you out. You can hear your heart monitor spike a little. Bucky’s eyes frantically look around the room which does little to quell your worry. “Bucky.” You cry.

“We need to push, Mrs. Barnes.” Dr. O urges. You shake your head but stop when Bucky’s hand grips your chin and forces you to look at him.

“You can do this.” His voice is stern. “You know you can. What did I say? This isn’t gonna be what takes you out, pretty girl.” You sniffle as you watch him talk. “You gotta push for me, okay?”

You take in a deep, shuddering breath before nodding. “Okay.” You say quietly before turning your attention back to Dr. O. “Okay.”

Hour Twelve

“A boy and a girl.” You murmur tiredly as Bucky pushes back stray hairs and wipes the sweat off your forehead. “Our babies.”

“Our babies.” He agrees a little wetly. “You did amazing, pretty girl. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“Did you call the boys?” You ask. You can hear the cries echo in the room as nurses perform necessary checks. Bucky laughs. “I did. They’re in the waiting room.” He answers.

“Are they okay?” You ask, unable to move and check yourself. Bucky looks over his shoulder before looking back down at you. “They are. They’re perfect, just getting cleaned up. A boy and a girl.” Bucky murmurs in awe.

“Eleanor and Steven.” You whisper. “Can I hold them?”

“Soon.” Bucky smiles before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “A couple more minutes.”

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notes // i’m so glad someone liked my arms will hold you enough to want more of it! i love family bucky, he has my heart.

replies and reblogs are appreictaed if you enjoyed this! 💞

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fluff #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky x you #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes

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appplepii · 4 years ago

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prove them wrong (armin arlert x fem!reader)

genre: smut, fluff

warnings: modern!au, mentions of alcohol, douchebag jean😳, unprotected sex, soft degradation, choking, oral sex

summary:

Armin is sick of being underestimated.

“Have you and (y/n) even done anything yet, Armin?” Jean laughed, slightly scoffing at the boy from across the couch. Armin choked on the water he was drinking, coughing as Eren patted his back to help him breathe. “Shut the fuck up Jean, we all know you’re probably a virgin.” Eren spat as he was quick to defend his best friend. Jean’s face twisted into a scowl, his face growing pink as he flipped the loud boy off.

“Honestly, is Jean wrong though? I don’t think I’ve ever even seen them kiss.” Connie chimed in as he took another swig of the beer he had been nursing. A blush rose on Armin’s cheeks as he stayed silent, his eyes glued to the carpet of his living room. “Who even cares? Some are more shy than others! Anyway, can we get more barbecue chips?” Sasha lifted the empty bowl over her head, directing the question at the owner of the apartment. “Sure Sasha. There are some in the pantry, make yourself at home.” Armin quietly laughed to himself as he answered her question, glad the girl was able to take the subject of the conversation off himself.

It was a Friday night and everyone found themselves in a familiar setting, hanging out and drinking at Armin’s apartment. His place had slowly become the regular spot to be weekly, it was the biggest out of everyones since he shared it with you. The guest bedroom had become home to anyone who got too shit-faced and needed a place to crash. Although Armin hated alcohol, he always kept a pack of beers and other drinks for his friends. He didn’t mind being the only sober one, he enjoyed the company of his long time friends regardless.

“Babe, I’m home!” Your voice called out, the sound of the front door slamming as you took your shoes off. Walking into the living room you weren’t surprised to see the same group of friends you’ve had since high school. Armin’s expression immediately grew soft, a smile on his lips as he patted the seat next to him for you to take. Settling down next to your boyfriend, you took a hold of his hand to absentmindedly play with his fingers as you caught up with everyone. Looking around the room, your eyes met with Jean who’s face took on a smug expression. “Oh, perfect!” Jean cleared his throat. “Since we’re talking about it, we should just ask you!” You glared at the man, knowing he always had some shit to start. “What bullshit are you starting now, Jean.” The bored expression in your voice left Jean mocking offense at your lack of enthusiasm. “Come on, you know you love me!” You tried your best to tune him out as you took a drink of Armin’s water he had handed to you. “Anyway, have you and Armin fucked yet?”

It was your turn to choke on your water now, sputtering curses at the man for asking something so uncomfortable. You’re almost positive your face is beet red from the heat radiating off of it, and you glanced at your boyfriend who was clearly embarrassed as he pinched the bride of his nose. It was clear to everyone now that Jean was clearly intoxicated otherwise he wouldn’t be asking so many personal questions. Trying your hardest not to let your embarrassment get the best of you, you sneered at him. “Jean, I’m gonna excuse your douchey attitude for the fact that your shit-faced, but I suggest you shut the fuck up.”. Jean payed your threat no mind as he let out a hearty laugh. “Oh, don’t feel bad! Some of us are late bloomers. I believe you’ll get there one day bud!” Eren could feel the discomfort coming from his best friend, standing up and glancing at Mikasa who followed his lead.

“Anyway, it’s getting late. We’re gonna head home, we’ll see you next weekend right?” Eren looked at Armin who nodded back. Marco was the next to stand up, clearly embarrassed with his friend who got too drunk. “Yeah I’m gonna head out too, I’ll take Jean to my place.” Marco grabbed the boy by his collar and forced him to stand up, ignoring his complaints and asking if it was something he said. Armin tried his hardest to suppress the sigh of relief at the fact he would be alone with you. Nobody liked being asked personal questions, especially ones about their sex life. He made a mental note to thank Eren and Marco for their help.

After that, everyone else gradually made their way home by calling for Ubers or having a friend pick them up. The quiet of your shared apartment brought you comfort after such a long day, humming to yourself as you cleaned up the kitchen. Finishing up and wiping your hands on your jeans, you found your boyfriend staring out the window as he sat on the same spot he had been in all night. Slowly you made your way to him, standing in front of the boy and running your fingers through his hair. “You okay, babe? Don’t listen to Jean. You know how he gets when he’s fucked up.” Armin looked up at you, a small smile on his face. His eyes had a darker expression though, and you felt your stomach erupt with butterflies as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you down onto his lap.

“Don’t worry, I don’t let anything Jean says get to me.” Armin’s hands wondered across the tops of your thighs, fingers trailing up under your shirt to let his thumbs trace the base of your spine. “Besides,” he pulled you closer by your hips, leaning over to whisper in your ear. “They just don’t know how good I make you feel, huh?” You gulped, fingers shaking as they gripped at the shoulders of his black hoodie. Armin’s lips trailed from your ear to your shoulder, leaving feather-light kisses down the way before sucking on the spot at the base of your neck between your collarbones. Letting out a whine at the contact, you tightened your grip on his shoulders. “I asked you a question angel, don’t you know it’s rude to ignore people?” The tone of his voice was something you only ever heard in moments like these, his tone raspy and just above a whisper.

Pulling your hips down to grind on his own, he pulled back from the spot on your neck. Bringing up his hand to let his fingers trail over the dark bruise to admire it, he slowly wrapped his fingers around your neck. He didn’t squeeze, he just let his hand rest there as he gazed into your eyes. An almost bored expression sit on his face as he sat expectantly. “Well?” You avoided his eyes, feeling embarrassed as you fiddled with his hoodie strings. “N-no, they don’t know how good you make me feel.” Armin chuckled lowly, the hand on your neck coming up to grab your face and force eye contact with him. “Why are you so shy baby? You know I always take good care of you.”

Shifting your hips, you began to feel desperation build up in your chest. You leaned in and met his lips with a deep kiss, bringing your fingers to run across the short hair of his undercut. You felt him harden under your lap and couldn’t help but moan into his mouth at the feeling. Moving off of what felt like instinct, you reached your hand between the two of you. Fiddling with the cool metal of the belt buckle, you pulled at the leather strap to undo it. Pulling away from the kiss Armin grabbed your wrist stopping you. Your eyebrows furrowed into confusion and frustration as you searched his face for his reasoning.

“Why are you in such a rush? We have all night, doll.” Armin leaned back into his seat, glancing at the bottom of your shirt and back up to your face gesturing for you to take it off. You didn’t hesitate to follow his unspoken orders, throwing the thin shirt off of your frame and across the room somewhere. Goosebumps erupted on your soft skin as the cool air made contact with it as you shivered slightly. Reaching your hand behind your back, you undid the clip of your bra and let the straps slowly slide down your shoulders. Armin hummed as he observed your naked figure, letting the palm of his hand rest on your rib cage, under one of your breasts.

“Look at you, my perfect sweet girl.” He cooed, running his thumb across your nipple causing you to suck in a breath. “You’re so responsive,” he listened to your breathy moans as he attached his lips to you “I love it.”. Leaving multiple bruises scattered across your flushed chest he smiled, he always thought you looked pretty bruised. Throwing your head back, you tried to control your violent heart beat and your erratic breathing. “You doing okay?” He asked against your skin, the warm breath once again causing goosebumps to form. “I just, I need..” Your statement trailed off as you became distracted by his grinding onto you. “What? What do you need?” he egged you to continue as his hand traveled between your breasts and to your jeans. His nimble fingers curled into the waistband of your pants while his thumb threatened to undo the button of them. “I need you to touch me, please.” You breathed out, desperate for him to do what you asked.

His smile slightly widened as he finally undid the button of your jeans, his hand slipping in to tease you through your underwear. “Aw, how sweet. You know I can’t say no to you.” He increased the pressure of his fingers as he circled around your clit. Already on cloud nine from his calculated touch, you let your head fall onto his shoulder as you bit back the sounds you wanted to make. “You’re already soaked through your panties, how dirty. Come on, take these off.” He took his hand out of your jeans and pulled down on the belt loops as he gestured for you to take them off.

You stood up from his lap and shimmied the tight jeans off, taking off your panties in the process. Before you were able to take back your seat on his lap, you felt him lean forward and rub the sides of your thighs. Armin enjoyed the feeling of your smooth skin as he dragged his palms to ghost over your ass. After squeezing briefly he cupped the back of your thigh, picking up your leg and letting it rest on his shoulder. You held your breath as you glanced at the man sitting between your legs, feeling like you might just pass out the moment his tongue touched you. Sucking on your clit and letting a finger slide into you with little resistance, you gripped his hair tight, knowing it probably hurt him (not that he complained).

“Oh my- Oh my god. Please don’t stop.” Your ramblings sounded senseless but you didn’t care, completely overwhelmed by the pleasure you were receiving. Armin hummed in response, the vibrations making the hairs on your body stand straight up as you gasped, “You’re so good, so good to me.”. Armin was stronger than he looked, his biceps flexing as the grip on your thigh and hip kept you standing. With the way your knees were buckling you could bet if he wasn’t holding you you’d be on the floor by now. He could tell you were close by the sounds you were making and the way you squirmed, and right before you met with your release he pulled his fingers out of you and backed away from where you wanted him the most.

“Wh- I don’t understand, why are you-“ Your eyes brimmed with tears brought on by the pure desparation built up inside of you and you couldn’t stop the pout from forming on your bruised lips. Pressing a kiss to your hip bone, Armin wiped his face clean from you and guided you to lay on your back on the couch. “Be patient sweet thing, I told you we have all night, right?” Your disappointment from being edged was slowly disappearing as you thought about the heat looking in your stomach, looking at him you spread your legs, on full display for the man in front of you. “Fine, please just fuck me then.”

Armin’s patience was suddenly non-existent as rapidly threw off his t-shirt and pulled off the grey sweatpants he’d been wearing. Before he was able to take off his boxers you beat him to it, leaning over and pulling them down yourself. Grabbing his dick in your hand and leaving a kiss on the tip, you took him in your mouth as deep as you could, slightly gagging as fresh tears stung your eyes. Armin tensed immediately, his hand flinging to the top of your head as he tangled his fingers into your hair. “Oh, fuck” he moaned out, his eyes rolling to the back of his head at the feeling of how warm your mouth was. “That’s it, you’re such a good girl, my sweet baby.” he was the one rambling now, his eyes screwed shut because if he saw you with your mouth around him he might just cum too soon. “Enough,” he says gently as he pulls you off of his cock, “I want to be inside you already.”

You had no complaints as you went back to the position of laying on your back. His calloused hands grab your calves as he pushes them against your thighs. Armin didn’t think he could get any harder than he already was but he proved himself wrong when he saw you glistening with sweat, spread out for him. “Are you ready, sweet girl?” He teased your entrance as your eyes shot open to look into his. “I’m ready, please just-“ You were interrupted by the feeling of Armin pushing himself into you, your words trailing off as your eyes grew wide at the stretch. He leaned down to meet you with another sloppy kiss, his hand finding it’s familiar place around your throat. Pulling back with a wet smack, Armin leaned back to take your legs and put them over his shoulders. Biting your hand, you tried to suppress your screams as your eyes rolled back into their sockets, completely content with the full feeling you had. Tears were now streaming down your cheeks and you knew you had trail marks from your mascara running.

“I bet Jean wouldn’t expect this, huh? He wouldn’t think I’d have you crying from how good I fuck you, isn’t that right baby?” The hand on your throat squeezed harder, not enough to hurt you but enough to make your head feel dizzy, the sensation adding to the pleasure of it all. You opened your mouth in attempt to answer his question, but all that fell from your lips were moans and pleas. “Oh honey, I fucked you stupid, didn’t I? Imagine if everyone could see you now, not even able to speak after taking my dick. I’d bet that would shut them the fuck up.” The words coming from Armin’s mouth brought you closer and closer to your peak, your fingernails leaving red scratch marks down his abdomen and on his biceps. You could tell Armin was close too, by the way he was getting sloppier and his moans had turned more into whines. “Such a good girl, you’re always so tight for me. I love you princess.” Armin ranted, squeezing the bottom of your thighs and pressing a kiss to your knee. “Go ahead, sweet thing. Let go.” His encouragements sent you over the edge, toes curling over his shoulders as you sobbed out his name. Armin followed soon after, slipping out and falling on top of you, head resting on your bare chest.

“Thank you for that,” he murmured after a couple of moments, pressing a light kiss to your collarbone. “I guess sometimes those assholes do get to me.”. Once again you let your fingers run through his now damp hair, kissing his hairline sweetly. “Don’t have to thank me babe, anytime.” You giggled, completely euphoric from the previous actions.

Well, you thought to yourself, he definitely proved them wrong.

✧༺☆༻✧

omg happy valentine’s day here is an armin smut 😳 i have loved this man since i was like 13 sooo this is a long time coming hehe

thank u sm for reading and for all the notes on my other fics <3 yall r so sweet!

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin #anime #aot #armin #armin arlert #armin x y/n #armin x reader #armin smut #attack on titan imagine #attack on titan smut

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some-kindofgnome · 4 years ago

Text

tastes so bitter (tastes so sweet)

You’re driving back from an out-of-town mission with Hawks when your car breaks down on a very sparsely-populated highway. While you await relief, things get... personal.

characters: takami keigo (hawks) x f!reader

word count: 7.1k

warnings: smut (18+ please!), car sex, pro hero!reader, angst, emotionally unavailable hawks

notes: ta-dah!!! the car sex fic! this turned out way longer and way more feelsy than I ever intended it to be. but I’m grateful for the chance to show you how I play with plot and emotion as well as some good porn. porn with feelings, y’know?

EDIT: The supremely talented @la-saffron has created an absolutely spectacular piece of artwork for this fic! Please go and look at it right here, it’s really quite splendid

Masterlist

The shadowy trees on either side of the highway cast a chill across the pavement as the sky went dark.

It was far from sunset, but the woods were so tall and thick that the light had disappeared from the road a long time ago. The overpriced navigation system laid into the dashboard of Hawks’ luxurious car was no help at all; not when you were taking the only road for miles around.

The highway narrowly passed for two lanes, winding precariously down from the mountains. Dotted with reflective yellow signs- deer crossing, bear crossing, creatures-of-unimaginable-horror crossing. Bigfoot himself could have wandered into your headlights and you barely would’ve flinched.

But that was to be expected, given where you’d come from.

That day’s mission brought you both far, far away from the city. There was a national forest about three hours away- one of the biggest in the country- and you and Hawks had been called in at the crack of fucking dawn to drive all the way out to the woods and investigate some ‘strange reports,’ as the rangers cared to call them.

Most park rangers knew what they were seeing when guests came in from the woods reporting abnormal happenings. Nobody was truly immune to fear, though, when faced with the impossible.

Whether there were paranormal creatures lurking in those woods or not, you couldn’t have been sure. But after spending the day exhausting both your quirks combing every spare inch of those woods, you were relieved of your overnight duties by a group of other, more nature-savvy heroes.

Hawks had been miffed, but too exhausted to argue. He didn’t like to think he’d been overshadowed. You were just thankful to be going home to your own bed.

“Okay,” you sighed, nursing the last of a lukewarm soda from a burger joint at the edge of the only one-horse town you’d passed through. It was a pretty unassuming stop for dinner, but you and Hawks both agreed that the burgers were way too good to be sold to so few patrons.

Keigo was driving, with one palm splayed lazily across the bottom edge of the wheel. His scarlet wings stretched into the backseat, draping over the shoulders of his black leather backrest like some bizarre kind of seat cover.

The fact that his car was so luxurious was not lost on you- although you were more surprised to find out that he had one at all. Hawks seemed like the last person in the world to need a car, after living in a fantastic downtown penthouse. And owning a pair of wings, come to think of it.

He owned it because he could. And because he knew how good he looked in the driver’s seat.

“What?” He turned a curious eye toward you, though he never quite pulled his gaze from the road.

“I know we started this conversation on the way here,” you began, “but… we never exactly finished it.” You swirled what was left of the ice chips in the bottom of your cup, considering the best way to voice your thoughts.

“Alright.” He sounded vaguely amused, slouching a little further down and drawing an idle palm over his feathered hair. “Shoot.”

“Well…” You trailed off. “You’re kind of… a city guy.” You were already starting to talk with your hands. The racket coming from your half-drunk soda was proof enough.

“What makes you say that?”

“You are,” you defended. You let a playful edge creep into your tone. “And the agency’s kind of a city thing.”

“Am I really as one-note as you’re making me out to be?” He was chuckling. Your cheeks were going hot. You weren’t sure how this became a personal conversation, but you were determined to steer it in the proper direction. You course corrected.

“I just mean, we don’t take a lot of jobs outside the city. Like… ever. So, what’s with this one? Why this call?”

He didn’t answer right away. When you glanced across the car, he was licking his lips and appearing to be, very genuinely, thinking.

“Well,” he began. There was an immensely appealing depth that wore around the edges of his voice when he was deep in thought. You hung on tightly, trying your best to hide how intently you listened.

“I was just… bored, I guess.” He gave a lazy little shrug. His eyes were still trained on the windshield, but you could feel the weight of his urges. He wanted to look over. You turned your head, willing him to.

“Probably sounded like bullshit, now that I think about it,” he confessed, “but if there really was somethin’ freaky in those woods… I dunno. I wanted to see it.”

You resisted the urge to snort.

“Maybe you should start a ghost hunting branch at the agency.”

“Aw, c’mon,” he protested. This time, he really did drag his eyes away from the road for a second. They glinted playfully in the dark. You got a flash of pearly canine from the barest hint of a grin, but it was enough to put a stupid smile right across your face.

A sickening thud from beneath the hood zapped any false confidence you’d been building. There was a dull pop, then the engine died.

“What the- shit.” Hawks scrambled to put both hands on the wheel, navigating the car with what momentum remained over to the narrow shoulder. The tires hit gravel and soft mud, rolling pathetically to a stop and settling in damp silence.

“What the hell was that?” You leaned over the dashboard as your pulse came down from near-terminal velocity. There were half a dozen lights blinking away on the dashboard- symbols you couldn’t understand.

“Not sure.” Keigo was doing his best not to sound too perturbed. As a result, he was just perturbed enough.

You knew what those lights implied, though. Service due. Oil change due. Battery maintenance due.

“Jesus Christ,” you hissed, “when was the last time you took this car in for service? It’s a miracle you even made it out of the goddamn garage.”

Hawks was in the process of mashing the engine start button like an arcade game. When you spoke up, he pushed it down and held. The engine gave a dull, sad sort of sputter, but nothing roared to life.

“Look, look,” he dismissed, waving a hand in your direction as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “I don’t drive this thing that often, okay? I’m gonna go check under the hood.”

He climbed out of the driver’s side and slammed the door before giving you the chance to remind him to pop the hood. For a minute, you let him wallow in his mistake, watching gleefully as he pried at the seam of it. Finally, you unbuckled yourself and leaned over, flicking the release for him.

He gave an unamused glance toward the windshield and lifted the hood, obscuring all but the very tips of his drooping wings from view.

After about fifteen seconds, he ducked back into the car with a rush of cold air behind him. He rubbed his palms together as you watched, arms folded over your chest.

“So?” You prompted. He gave a sideways glance in your direction, blowing into his chilled hands.

“So what?”

“Oh my g- what’s wrong with the car?” You tried your best not to let panic set in.

“I don’t know. It’s just a bunch of pipes and wires under there. They didn’t exactly give me a map of the thing when I bought it.”

You’d seen Hawks pull people out of burning buildings before. You’d see him think on his feet, devise a plan and act on it in the blink of an eye. Usually, he was impulsive. Confident. Clever.

Tonight, on the other hand, he was demonstrating a very clear affinity for money over brains.

You flopped into your seat, scrubbing your hands over your face. You were not going to freak out. You refused to. It didn’t matter that Keigo had suddenly become useless in the face of disaster. You were heroes, even if you had to save your damned selves.

“Oh,” he quipped from beside you. “Still got bars. See?” As you peeked over at him through one cracked eyeball, he waved his illuminated phone screen at you. “It could be worse, kid. If this were a horror movie, this thing’d be dead.”

He tapped away on the screen, seeming very pleased with himself. Even his wings gave a little ruffle, draping themselves smoothly over the back of his seat again.

“I’ll call us a tow. We’ll be outta here in no time.”

A few minutes later, you had a map pulled up on your phone while Hawks’ brow creased deeper and deeper.

“Uh-huh.” His voice had taken on that irresistible deepness to it again, but this time it was sending pangs of dread through your gut.

“Right.” He brought a palm up to smooth over his jaw, fingertips bending and pressing idly against the patches of scruff that dusted it. “Y-yep, yeah, I understand. Fifty miles is a long way. I know it’s gonna be a lot to send a truck that far. But-“

As he was abruptly cut off by the other end of the line, those idle fingers slipped up to his temple, pressing inward and rubbing in stiff little circles.

“Okay. Alright. Yeah, I guess we’ll wait, ‘cause there’s not much else we can… I understand. Yes, thank you. Thank you. Okay, we’ll be here. Or within a ten-foot radius. Thanks. B-“

He blinked rapidly at the screen as he pulled it away from his ear. “Have an excellent night, sir,” he muttered under his breath. He let out a deep sigh, lifting a hip to tuck his phone away again.

“They said they would send someone,” he said, “but the depot is, like, fifty miles from here. Could be a couple of hours.”

“A couple hours?” That cold dread was settling into your chest again. So much for sleeping in your own bed.

“Yeah. C’mon, get out.”

“What?” You glanced past him at the frosted driver’s side window. “It looks freezing out there.”

“Well then, you’d better bundle up. C’mon. I’m gonna fly us back to the city.”

“No way. Hawks- Keigo.” You grabbed his arm and squeezed tightly as he made to get out of the car.

“What?” Exasperation was creeping into the edges of his voice. The sides of his gaze, too, as he landed against the seat back with a thud and turned his cheek to look at you.

“You’ve been flying all day. Your wings are shot. You’re not flying anywhere.”

“What? They’re fine.” He gave the appendages in question a defiant flutter and a cloud of expiring feathers floated into the backseat.

You folded your arms across your chest. Hawks gave a frustrated growl.

“What do you suggest, then?” He retorted in fierce opposition to your silence. “Just sit around and fucking… die of old age before the tow truck comes?”

“Oh my god, you’re the number two hero,” you snapped back. “When did you become such a drama queen? Yes, we’re going to wait. Like a normal person would have to.”

“I’m not being dramatic; I’m presenting you with a legitimate solution and you’re ignoring it!”

“If you try to fly us both out of here, you’re gonna hit the ground before we’re halfway home. And then we’ll be really stranded, with no water and no shelter. So, if you’d like to fly back all by yourself, I can’t stop you. But I’m not going to let you kill both of us.”

“Fine!” Hawks’ cheeks were flushed with temper as he kicked the door open and clambered out of the car. He kicked it shut again so hard the whole body rocked, and for a moment you were left, trapped in shocked silence.

He was really going to leave you out here. Alone.

Half a dozen heartbeats passed before his boots crunched on the shoulder and he wrenched the door open again, flopping back into the car with an immense sigh of irritated defeat.

“Fuckin’ freezing out there,” he muttered as quietly as possible.

You wanted to punch him.

“You ready to wait?”

His wings stiffened behind him, then drooped so lowly they seemed to disappear into the backseat. He looked at you from the corner of one tawny eye.

“Yeah.”

For the first hour, you honestly enjoyed yourself. As soon as Keigo accepted his fate, he got much closer to his usual mellow self. You finished off cold fries from dinner, listened to true crime podcasts on your phone, (you listened- he talked over the whole thing) and played a few ruthless games of hangman on a couple of napkins you found in the glove compartment.

You’d spent a lot of time with Hawks in a professional capacity. As partners, you took most of your missions together. You were well-versed in the way that he liked to think, the way he approached a job, a conversation. You worked well with each other and you were drawn to his quick wit and laid-back humour. Even if he was a piece of work at times, you made a strong team. But you didn’t do a whole lot of hanging out.

“Okay, that’s it,” he chided as you added an extravagant top hat to the completed, dressed hangman scrawled onto the inside fold of your last napkin. The word he’d failed to guess was ‘patience,’ and the irony of his struggling was not lost on you.

“Aw, c’mon,” you protested. “You’ve still got gloves and a bow tie left.”

“No, no, no.” He held up a palm, shaking his head. There was a good-natured grin curling his lip as he bowed toward the door. “I’m callin’ it. I gotta take a leak.”

You snatched your soda cup from the drink holder, clutching it protectively against your chest.

“You’re not going in here.”

Next, it was Hawks’ turn to shoot you a deadpan stare.

“How about in the woods? Is that allowed?”

Your cheeks went hot. “It’s pretty dark out there.”

“Aw.” Hawks shoved the door open. There was an unfamiliar glint to his eye as he tossed a mischievous look over his shoulder. “Guess you won’t be able to sneak a peek, then.”

You slammed your fist into his back. “Shut up and go take a piss.”

As the car door clicked shut, you turned the other way out of sheer habit. All you could see in the opposite window was the reflection of your own face. Maybe it was just the dim light, but you looked exhausted. Keigo had seen you caked in blood, streaked by mud and soot before. But you’d both been awake since four o’clock that morning and there was a special kind of ugly feeling that came with overtiredness.

You were dreaming about the first thing you’d do when you got home again when Hawks climbed back into the car. He looked considerably brighter as he ducked inside, and he brought a flush of rich, earthy forest-smell along with him.

“Don’t tell me you couldn’t find it in the cold out there,” you quipped. Payback.

But Keigo just chuckled, shaking his head.

“Close the door,” you whined as the frigid air from outside finally reached your bare arms. “It’s already cold enough in here.”

“Aw,” he crooned, tugging the door shut behind him. “You scared of a little cold now, kid? It’s not so bad out there. Feel.”

He lunged at you, ducking rapidly to rub his frigid cheek against your shoulder. You let out a terse yelp and squirmed, trying to shove him back amid a sea of chilled giggles. He got a few passes of his icy skin on yours before you both realized how close you’d gotten.

Hawks cleared his throat and scooted away from you. In the bare light from the shitty overhead lamp, you were starting to see the outline of a flush creeping into his cheeks.

The light abruptly went out, leaving you in darkness again.

“Tell me something,” he mused, grabbing for the abandoned takeout bag and digging a hand into it. He produced a tiny wrapped square and tore it open with his teeth, removing the folded alcohol wipe from inside and gliding it with impossible grace over his fingertips. He eyed you sideways.

“How come we don’t hang out more?”

Your chest went cold. You’d been dreading that question all night. Longer than that, even.

“What d’you mean?” It was a gut response, but you instantly kicked yourself for even attempting to play dumb.

“You know,” he chided, dumping the wipe back into the paper bag once he was finished with it. “We work. We do interviews together. We do those bullshit PR functions together. I’ve known you- what, two years? And we’ve never even been for a drink. What gives, kid? Don’t tell me I grate on you.”

“I get plenty of you on company time,” you retorted. You were starting to panic. You weren’t ready for this conversation, but it didn’t seem like you were going to be rescued by the timely arrival of the tow truck.

“Okay, okay, I’d take that,” he laughed, “if you hadn’t agreed to take this mission with me. C’mon, this wasn’t exactly a nine-to-five gig.”

He paused. “Come out with me this weekend.” He nudged your shoulder with a bony elbow. You tried your best not to snap.

“Stop,” you pressed quietly. “You know why we don’t.”

The smirk slipped from Keigo’s face.

“What? Why?”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Wait a second, there’s an actual reason? What the hell is it?”

The confusion was genuine on his face. Hawks could be a smarmy little shit when he wanted to be. But you could tell he wasn’t fucking with you.

“Oh my god.” The words slipped out like a deep breath. Your hand drifted to your mouth as cold shock ran over your skin. “You really don’t remember.”

“No.” His confusion was bordered with fear. He sat back a little, letting his eyes drift over your expression. “No, I really don’t.”

You swallowed hard. You should have known that you’d have to talk about this eventually. But he didn’t even remember the night that had been changing the way you acted around him for nearly a year.

“Last Christmas,” you began. Your breath was so short that it put a desperate hush to your voice that you absolutely hated. You revelled in your ability to act casual around him, but the more probing he got, the harder that composure was slipping.

“At the agency gala. You remember the party, right?”

Hawks rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, and I got trashed.” He paused. Realization dawned on his face, and he shot you the deepest, most sincere look of concern you’d ever seen. Even more sincere than the look that crossed his face when you got shot off the roof of a house and broke a rib.

He leaned forward.

“Did I do something?” He swept a palm over his mouth, fingertips dallying at his chin. You knew exactly how he felt in that moment. You’d been there before, too, realizing that you’d lost control. Blacked out. Understanding that you might have done something you were going to regret.

“You really don’t remember a thing?” It was your turn to be horrified. How could something that consumed your every thought stay so damned far from his?

His fingers were still curved around the point of his chin. He’d gone white, and he shook his head as his eyes cast down to his lap.

“You fucking kissed me, okay?” You snarled with a whip of frustration. “There was mistletoe and you kissed me under it and-and Christ, I can’t believe you.”

“What? What?” He demanded as his voice grew defensively sharp.

“I had no idea what you were gonna do. What you were gonna say, what was gonna change between us. I showed up to the agency the next morning and your hungover ass acted like nothing had ever happened.”

“Of course I did,” he defended, “I didn’t think anything did happen. Oh my God, did I really kiss you?” His wings were coming to life all of a sudden, bristling on either side of his seat. There was a dull whisp as one edge of them brushed against the window. They seemed to expand, along with his horror, to fill the entire car.

He pushed further. “Well, did you… did you want me to?”

You could see where his thoughts were taking him. The answer was an impossible dilemma. To lead him further down that path would not only be cruel, it would be untrue. But to tell him the truth- that you had wanted it- would be to shatter the fragile illusion of casual, platonic intimacy that you’d been building over the last two years.

You chewed your lower lip. Hard enough to hurt.

“Oh god, you didn’t,” he gasped. That was enough for you to lift your chin and shoot him a sudden, sad, pathetic little look.

“Jesus,” he gasped again, deeper this time. “You did.”

“Look,” you snapped. “I was never gonna say anything to you. I was never gonna push it. You didn’t feel that way and I knew that and I just wanted to work.”

He told you enough about his personal life as it was. Every date he swung in from on Monday morning, every Friday night he spent preening in the last hours of the workday hurt enough already. If you’d grown close, fallen harder, it would’ve become too much to bear.

“What do you mean, I didn’t feel that way? What way don’t I feel? How could you even know that?” He was beginning to raise his voice back at you and the adrenaline was pushing you way too far to listen.

“Because you never said a fucking word to me about that kiss! You pretended like it never even happened, Kei! What was I supposed to think!”

“If you’d asked me, you woulda known that I didn’t speak up ‘cause I didn’t remember a goddamn thing!” Keigo jammed a finger into his temple. His golden eyes flashed. He was so fucking hot when he was angry, but this was not a fight you ever wanted to have.

Luckily for you, he was having it without you.

“What do you want me to say to that?” He snarled. “Huh? What- you want me to tell you that I’m sorry for not having psychic powers? That I’m sorry I didn’t hire a mind-reader to tell me what the fuck was going on with you?”

He scrubbed his hands over his face. You were on the verge of tears.

“I-I never-“ you began, but Keigo beat you to the punch,

“You know, maybe I noticed that you were actin’ funny around me. And maybe I should’ve asked. But maybe if you ask yourself, and if you really, honestly give yourself the truest answer, you’d be able to admit that you knew how I felt about you. That you always knew.”

“Of course I knew!”

Your response echoed raw and deafening in the silence of the car. You’d lost your temper and shouted it at him with every decibel left in your breathless chest. Your fists were clenched atop your frigid thighs as you bent over in your seat, shivering. To your immense embarrassment, warm tears trickled down the sides of your nose.

He was right, after all. Every sideways smile he’d given you was just a little too broad to be friendly. Every time he caught you by the hand, he held it just a little too long. Every time he offered you the crook of his elbow at a stuffy charity gala and every time he poured you into a cab at the end of the night, he promised to take good care of you. Every time he looked at you at all it was with a depth that you had recognized, but never understood.

“But look at us, Kei. Look at what we do to each other.”

You sniffled, scrubbing tears off your cheeks with the heels of your hands. He reached for you, seeking to comfort, but his hands twitched midair and he drew back instead.

“Yeah,” he croaked. You tossed a glance in his direction. He looked more dejected than you’d seen him in a long time. He rested both hands on top of the wheel, the rest of his body sagging against the seat back.

“Except now I’ve told you,” you continued. “And now we both know, so everything’s fucked no matter what.”

You were met with silence. The truth was dawning on you. You hated to even consider it, but it felt like what needed to be done.

“When we get back to the city,” you started. Hawks interrupted you with a low rasp of your name.

“No, when we get back, I’m giving you my resignation.”

“Fuck, stop.”

Keigo lunged, grabbing you by the back of the neck and pulling you toward him. He rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. The warmth of his closeness weighed on you like a heavy quilt. You couldn’t even pretend not to be immensely comforted by affection from him.

“I’m not gonna let you do that, kid.”

You were both drawing deep breaths- slow, rolling gulps of air that matched over gradual time. You licked your lips, bracing your chilled palms on his shoulders. Your fingertips brushed the very edges of his feathered hair, dull and soft in the dark.

You’d talked each other down from bigger, badder edges before. But this one had sharp, jagged rocks waiting at the bottom. This one, you were going to have to jump from together.

“I can’t do this,” you pleaded. “I can’t keep myself away from you like this.”

“Don’t.” His voice was hushed and so achingly tender, like he couldn’t take the command himself.

“I can’t-“

“Then, don’t.”

He was firmer this time, and the pad of his thumb brushed the bottom of your lip. He pulled back just a hair, grazing the tip of his nose across yours. The heat of his breath puffed over your lips and his blonde eyelashes threatened to tickle your cheek.

He drew in a slow, calculated breath.

“Lemme kiss you. Lemme try again. I’m not gonna forget it this time, I swear.”

“Keigo, please.”

“Just lemme try. Just once. I’ll never ask you again, if you don’t want me to.” He pulled back the rest of the way and your body keened at the loss, but he looked deeply into your eyes. Deeply like he’d never been allowed to look before.

You licked your lips. Considered it for half a heartbeat. Then you gave a slow little nod.

“Okay.”

To your surprise, he didn’t lunge again. He took his time with you. He cupped your cheeks tenderly between his bare palms, memorizing the curve of your face. He stared, taking you in like this. At his mercy.

Finally, he leaned in and captured your mouth in a soft kiss, heartbreakingly loving. You responded eagerly, blossoming beneath his touch and bracing your hands on the broad plane of his chest. Your fingers curled in the fleece that lined his coat.

You kissed back with near-desperate urgency, shamelessly showing him how touch-starved you’d become. Dating was pointless when Keigo stole your whole heart every time you showed up to work.

The quiet press of his tongue had your jaw going slack in his hands. Your kiss went needy all at once, and he licked into your mouth with a hunger behind his movements that you never anticipated sensing from him.

You broke from him first, turning your cheek to him as your lungs burned. Your mouth was swollen, and you gasped greedily for whatever stale air lingered between you. He grabbed your chin and forced your eyes back to his.

His gaze was fearsome. Ravenous. You were powerless beneath it.

You combed your fingers through his hair like you’d always wanted to, settling your palm at the nape of his neck. Your own voice was nearly unrecognizable, nothing more than a feral growl.

“Get in the back.”

Hawks took one look at the narrow gap between his seat and yours and sat up, nudging the driver’s side door open. He climbed eagerly into the road and then back into the back seat, settling in the center with his legs and wings splayed wide.

Meanwhile, you took the opportunity to wiggle out of your boots and pants and slam dunk everything into the foothold of the passenger’s seat. You climbed over the center console in your underwear and settled into his lap.

Even though you had to bow your head against the cushioned ceiling, it was a holy sensation. Your thighs settled perfectly into the crooks of Keigo’s legs, and his hands slid so naturally over the curves of your hips. It was as if you’d done this before.

You kissed him again, using the weight of your newly boosted height to descend hard and loving against his lips. He grabbed you hard by the ass, drawing you smooth and tight against his hips.

“God,” he groaned eagerly into your mouth.

“You’re so. Fucking. Perfect,” you hissed back into his, and he squeezed you harder, breaking his lips from yours to trail a hungry path of kisses along the edge of your jaw. His scruff scratched at your chin just like you imagined it would. You loved him like this- trimmed, unshaven. The rougher, the better.

“Don’t say that,” he purred dangerously close to your ear. “You’ve seen me at my worst.”

You tried not to grin, remembering Keigo barfing over the balcony of the Plaza after one too many charity-benefit martinis. Keigo caked in ooze after cutting open that sludge villain from the inside. Keigo on the verge of tears, just a few minutes ago.

“I still think so,” you pressed, and he smiled against your cheek. His wings, tired and bruised but majestic as ever, stiffened proudly. They were capped firmly by the cramped space that surrounded you, but the feathers that spread across the back seat were sleek and graceful.

You dug your fingertips between his jacket and his t-shirt, feeling the warmth of his torso all over. He did his best to shrug it open, but the material was caught up on his wings- no getting it off now.

He wound his hands into the hem of his shirt and tugged it up for you. The skin you could feel by slipping your fingers underneath was all you were going to get.

Not that it mattered to you. It was far more than you’d let yourself so much as picture before. While you felt your way across his heated abdomen, he dipped his head to your pulse point. He scraped the points of his teeth across your tender flesh, making you sigh and shiver. He pressed a hand to the small of your back to keep you close and nibbled all the way down to your neckline, leaving a trail of tiny welts in his wake.

They would fade by morning. Tonight, the feeling was enough.

He glided smooth, tender fingers up your sides. You straightened, letting him wedge your long-sleeved t-shirt up around your shoulders. You had to bend even further and press your forehead awkwardly against his shoulder to wrench it off. Once he peeled the fabric over your head, you tossed it haphazardly toward the front seat. Keigo was already going to work on his fly.

The tender press of his erection had grown apparent by that point, stiff and needing down one thigh of his thick pants. You reached between your legs and palmed it indulgently. There was an answering throb of arousal in the pit of your belly as you felt the shape and thickness of it trapped against his body, and an even stronger one when his hips pressed into your touch and he gave a low rumble of approval.

“Don’t act so surprised,” he crooned. With his pants unfastened, and the bulk of his cock shifted to the stretchy pouch of his undershorts, he slid a fingertip down the plane of your belly and curled two graceful digits between your thighs.

“Are you wet for me yet?” He shot you a deep, lustful stare. You rocked your hips against his fingers, hopeless in resisting the pleasure he offered. Keigo nudged the crotch of your thong easily aside, dipping his middle finger against your slit.

He sucked a sharp breath through clenched teeth as you gave a simultaneous yelp of stimulation. When he looked up at you again, he bore a sly little grin. You’d seen it a thousand times before, but never with such desire. And never all for you.

“You’re drippin’, kid.” He arched his palm, slipping that finger slowly upward and easing it inside you. There was no stretch, but the sensation of intimacy- of being felt in such a way by those hands that you’d never dared to fantasize about- was intoxicating in its own right.

Keigo was, apparently, feeling it, too. His eyes were deeply lidded, glazed completely by his own desire. The tip of his cock had found its way over the waistband of his undershorts, weeping shiny precum against his stomach and the bottom of his shirt.

He curled a blunt fingertip inside you, massaging your tender front wall. The feeling rappelled up the column of your spine and brought deep trembles forward. It brought fresh handfuls of wet slick from your depths, gliding down his palm and between his fingers. He took the hints your body offered and rubbed faster, watching the way your expression morphed from desire to pleasure.

“Stop,” you hushed, leaning forward and pushing your lips to his. He drew his hand back from you immediately, settling it on your thigh. The wet little print it left against your skin wasn’t lost on you.

“Something wrong?”

“No,” you replied. “Just ready for you.”

He gave a low, loving little chuckle and shifted beneath you. “Can’t hold out any longer?”

You smiled into his hair. “Don’t want to.”

“Fair enough.” His smile was even, but the tug in his voice betrayed his fraying nerves. It thrilled you to know that you weren’t the only one putting way too much emotional stock in this. It was immensely validating to discover that he’d been anticipating it, too.

He wiggled and squirmed against the backseat, shucking his pants and underwear down over his thighs and letting his cock pop out. It bobbed against his stomach- thicker than you’d imagined- framed by a trimmed scruff of tawny hair that disappeared under his shirt.

“Fuck,” you sighed in spite of yourself.

“I know, right?” He rasped. He reached for you, cupping your jaw. He brought your forehead down to his, giving a weak laugh. “What the hell have we been waitin’ for?”

“We just needed the bottle episode to shove us together,” you giggled. “C’mon, we’re a walking trope right about now.”

“We’re about to become a different trope if you don’t let me fuck you.” It was his turn to play the desperate card. But the ache between your thighs had not dulled, even a little.

He wrapped his fingers around the base of his shaft and you lifted your hips. He gave the heated tip a playful little swipe along your slick slit, but his game backfired when both of you let out tight cries of sensation.

You rocked your hips forward, taking his tip eagerly inside. The sensation was toe-curling, made even better by the way he held you tightly against him, nosing at your ear and kissing any patch of skin he could reach.

He brought his free palm to your ass as soon as you were situated, helping you slide the rest of the way onto his cock. With your knees braced on either side of his lap and your feet pressed tightly against the front seat, you let him bottom out. And for a moment, you just sat there.

“Jesus,” Keigo sighed, lolling his head against the seat behind him. You still had your head deeply bowed, trapped in the space that seemed just an inch too tight.

“I…” Your thighs shuffled. Your hips gave a little squirm. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough. Keigo cracked an eye and lifted his chin, sensing a problem.

“What’s the matter?”

“I just…” Your cheeks went hot. You licked your lips. “I can’t move.”

His gaze cast downward, to the place where you were joined. He took in the press of your thighs, the curve of your neck. He snorted.

“No, you can’t. C’mere, kid, I gotcha.” He planted that palm on your ass again, drawing your hips forward and up, as far as you could take them. Your head and neck bowed with the rest of your back as he draped your upper body over his chest and held you tightly against him.

Then he planted his feet and gave one good, deep thrust. Your innards gave a jerk. Oh, fuck.

“That’s it,” you panted into his ear. He nodded tensely.

“Yeah?” He prompted. “That’s workin’ for ya? Alright, alright. We’ve got this, kid, c’mon. Lemme show you somethin’ good, okay?”

One thrust sent you spiralling. But the rhythm that he dove into- steady, tough, fluid- sent every nerve through your body into meltdown. You were entirely incapable of dealing with such pleasure, combined with the emotions that swirled through your lovestruck brain.

It felt as though you had been holding out needlessly for all this time. Like all the hurt and frustration and heartbreak you shed over him would be evaporated, now that you understood that he wanted you like this, too.

Like that was all there was. You, Hawks, and the free love you could now share.

“I’m n-not-“ Keigo stuttered, piping up after a series of breathless pants and airy groans, “n-not gonna last much longer, kid, you’re… really gonna make me feel it.”

“Yeah,” you breathed back. You looped your arms tightly around his neck, tilting your hips forward. You could feel the barest hint of stimulation when your clit brushed his belly, so you leaned into it- aching for your own release.

His rhythm doubled as the intensity of your pleasure spiked dangerously high, and when you gripped him hard and rocked your hips in time with his, there was a low, warning pull that echoed all the way up to your throat. You were close. Very close.

Your head dropped backward and Keigo leaned forward, drawing his mouth up the vulnerable column of your throat. He panted hard and heavy against your pulse point.

“That’s it, kid, that’s fuckin’ it, baby, oh, God, I’m g-gonna f-fucking… I- shit, I- can’t… fffuck!”

Keigo let a vicious roar tear from his throat as he reached his vibrant peak. His erratic thrusts brought you to a tight little climax, too, and you clung to him and whined and rode through the pleasure as he fucked madly up inside you, spurting messy shots of cum into your depths.

Gravity took hold of his pleasure, dripping it onto his shaft and pooling it in a sloppy mess between you. And when it was all finally over, you collapsed against his body and you both stayed, airless and spent, wrapped tightly around one another.

It was the bright flash of headlights on the back of his neck that brought you to the surface, moments later.

The inside of the car was warm and stuffy and damp. Had you just come in from outside, you might have realized that it reeked of sex. Sweat and breath and fluid and feeling. The windows were near-opaque, fogged by the dampness of your lovemaking.

It was a moment you might have loved to capture, if you weren’t about to be so rudely interrupted.

The light in your rear windshield was bright white and flashing orange. Unmistakable.

“The tow truck,” you wheezed, scrambling off of Keigo’s lap. “Oh, fuck.”

“Get dressed,” he muttered weakly, already scrambling to get himself cleaned up and decent. He was far more dressed than you were, so you did your best to climb back into the passenger’s seat and slide back into your own clothes. You banged your shin hard on the center console, and your head on the ceiling as your body flailed in retaliation. You crumpled into the front seat and nearly kneed yourself in the mouth trying to scramble back into your pants.

By the time you climbed out of the car, fully dressed, with a few additional bruises, Hawks was already standing on the shoulder, talking to the driver. The driver was wagering a few guesses on what might be wrong with the car. Hawks’ eyes had already glazed over.

“Hey,” he greeted, as he spotted you emerging over his shoulder. He introduced you quietly to the driver before the ballcap-wearing, bearded man spoke again.

“Yeah,” he gruffed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll give you a lift to garage nearby. It’s kinda late, but he keeps weird hours. I bet he’ll take a look for you, it’s prob’ly an easy fix.”

“That sounds great,” you gushed, clasping your palms together. There was a lot of stiffness settling in around your hips and thighs. You couldn’t be sure if it was a result of the compromising position you’d nearly been discovered in or the whole lot of not moving you’d done for hours before that.

Either way, it felt good to stretch your legs.

“You c’n go ahead and hop in the back,” the driver directed, waving the key that Keigo had apparently already given him in indication. “I’ll get you hooked up, no problem.”

Keigo opened the truck door for you, and you climbed over the passenger’s seat into the back. He followed closely behind you, tugging the door shut and slouching into the opposite side.

You sat in silence; hands clasped between your knees. A confusing air settled between you.

You felt vulnerable and raw and moony. You wanted to hold his hand and curl up to him in the back seat. Kiss his cheeks and tell him how good it was, tell him how much you felt.

For you, though, it could never be that simple. There was no free love for heroes like you.

Pay later, always.

Keigo felt the weight of your gaze. He turned to meet your eyes and shot you a thin smile. You’d seen the look that he’d turned to hide from you, though.

The truck driver climbed into the front seat before words could pass between you. But you didn’t need to hear them to know what they were going to be.

You didn’t need a warning to understand what Monday morning at the agency was going to look like.

#hawks x reader #hawks #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo #hawks x you #takami keigo x you #boku no hero academia #mha fanfic #my hero academia #bnha fanfic

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sorry-i-ship-drarry · 3 years ago

Text

Da capo - part 6

Trail post part 1 to 5

Ritenuto (Italian: 'held back')

It was raining.

Harry stared out of the window of the restless night watching the sky pour down over the earthly land. He sat there on the bed, hearing faint hustling from outside in the hallway and the sound of water crashing against the window, he remained there, watching and falling in love. It was easier he realised while his mind wrote down with a quill in his head that Loving was easier, that falling in love was easier, falling out was hard and it's not because nobody tells you how to but because we all fear abandonment, and in love there isn't abandonment. He hates thinking about the night he had to leave Draco because it was easier to just not think about it and even if he hated the easy way, he never complied thinking the hard way because perhaps for once he wanted things to be easy.. Maybe that's why he didn't return, among many other reasons he doesn't know. Among many other reasons he wishes he knew.

He woke up the next morning and being done with morning routine, he realised he had nothing to do. He could visit Arthur but the ward remained close today as he heard clearly yesterday by the nurses. He thought he might go shopping but he always hated the idea of shopping alone. He could maybe take a walk but he couldn't remain on the streets all day and he didn't wanted to disturb the Weasley's anymore, he had already been enough of a trouble to them, in the past and now.

" you could come to the office with me and Ron, they'd love you down there obviously but you can just explore the visitor section"

" ministry is possibly the most boring place to be Hermione " harry rolled his eyes as he shut the last page of the daily prophet and slided the newspaper across the counter.

" it's not all bad alright. Maybe you could even try and patch things up with Ron " Hermione suggested

" I'd much rather not be murdered in his office Hermione " harry replied lazily.

" you can't Just sulk in here harry" she sighed and then just as randomly it hit her " you know what you have to do nothing..but you can help me right ?"

" help you with what ?" He asked strangely curious.

" we have got these old cold cases files that's already been done but nobody is ready to tally them to check which one's closed, which one's are still being worked on and which ones need to be worked on. You can help check them " Hermione suggested.

"I'd rather choke to death mione. I left ministry for a reason " harry rolled his eyes.

" come on-"

" fine" he dragged on " I'll come but I'll be in the visitor's section. I'd wander about and if nothing interests me I'll come back "

Hermione thought for a moment but then nodded and very much regrettably harry left with her soon enough.

Harry was absolutely right about ministry being a very boring place. Hermione was as busy as ever and Ron Definitely didn't wanted to see him, everyone's gawked at him like an old extinct species present in a museum and the visitors section was filled with mostly bunch of kids who came on a trip. Harry was more than ready to just go back home and was walking to Hermione's office when he collided with someone just before her door.

" I'm so sorry- I didn't- Draco?" Harry frowned.

" what are you doing here ?" He asked immediately.

" well- you know I like to walk around here with files and running in circles " Draco joked, harry almost did smile " I work here obviously . I didn't know you were coming "

" oh, Arthur fell sick. I had to visit " harry replied.

" oh " draco replied as though realisation stroke him just then " I heard about that. How is he doing now ?"

" fine " harry nodded.

They remained there awkwardly looking at each other when someone crashed by Harry and his eyes fell onto Hermione's office door.

" listen I - I'm sorry- I gotta go actually. I need to- well talk to Hermione, but meet me soon I guess ?" Harry Suggested.

" oh- no- sure, yeah. Meet you soon then "; harry nodded and walked past Draco, almost about to knock her door when he heard him call out.

" what ?" Harry responded.

" I'm - almost done with work. Wanna go somewhere ?" Draco asked. Harry thought about it for a moment, his mind screaming of how weird it was, how awkward it would be and how incredibly wrong it was to see your ex boyfriend just as a friend.

" sure " instead harry replied.

" wanna come in my office then. I just need to-"

" sure " harry smiled cutting him off before Draco could've even explained but then it didn't matter and they walked into Draco's office.

" potioneer then " harry nodded as he entered his office.

" yeah, I got the opportunity last year and I thought why not. Hermione suggested me. Thanks to her" Draco dismissively replied stashing his files into his bag and locking.

" so why didn't you call when you came ?" Draco asked as he wore his coat, checking his pockets one last time.

" I just came actually, a day before yesterday and things had been busy with making up- meeting everyone and- just things " harry replied pocketing his hands.

Draco understandingly nodded and walked them out of the door.

They made a few small talks as they walked out of the ministry and strolled across a few more streets.

" so- you sold the apartment ?" Harry asked curiously.

Draco looked at harry for a moment before he realised what he meant and shook his head " it's already hard enough to find apartments here, I couldn't afford losing another and I mean it's not that apartment was the reason for everything, right "

Harry understandingly nodded but somewhere they both were welcomed with the fact of how strange it was to be like this, they were pretending maybe but it wasn't easy to just forget everything and yet both were playing their parts to the best.

They walked silently a few more streets both thinking of the same thing yet none dared to bring it up again, after all they had decided that they won't be the ex's who can't be friends.

" you wanna come over to my place, for dinner, maybe ?" Draco offered.

Harry wanted to say no, even almost said no but somewhere in the back of his mind knocked the images of Ron and Hermione and their pity looks or their hesitation in being able to talk. Considering the history it should have been harder with Draco but surprisingly enough, it wasn't as hard and so he responded " sure. Not like I have any other places to be "

Draco nodded and took the turn for his apartment and in not less than 5 minutes they were there as though he had planned to take harry home. They walked up the stairs in deafening silence and didn't utter a single word even when they entered the apartment, it was a doorbell that startle them and defiantly made them talk.

" mrs. Kentucky, how are you doing ?" Draco greeted his neighbour with a huge grin.

" lovely Darling. Wanted to return the sugar I borrowed and - is that Harry ?" She peered a little more through the door to get a better view but as Draco turned around to check on Harry, he vigorously shook his head.

" no, no that's just a colleague. Not a very friendly one at that " Draco Whispered and she nodded.

" not friendly eh, so not gonna date him huh" she mischievously smiled. Draco reddened at her words and immediately took the sashe of sugar and practically Shoved her out continuously thanking her and with a loud thud closed the door.

" she just-"

" I know " harry nodded smiling knowing exactly the kind of gossip lady Mrs. Kentucky was.

" ju- just for the record- I- I didn't bring anyone so there's nothing to-"

" Draco " harry stopped him " it's fine. We're- history " he added.

Draco seemed as though he wanted to say something but didn't and followed into the living room after nodding at harry.

" this place hasn't changed at all" harry said after having glanced the place.

" I- I didn't really feel like the need to " Draco replied.

" you mind if I- change ?"

" no, no of course not " harry shook his head vigorously and turned around to head towards the couch. Draco took it as a cue to get changed fast and join him again in the living room.

Harry despite having initially planned on sitting over the couch, stepped into the balcony and let himself gawk at the view. It's been so long he last saw the beautiful view it offered. The balcony had always been a very peaceful, calm escape especially when things seemed to overweight him; he can remember endless nights he had stood on the balcony because he felt as if something is someone was choking him, like the coil around his neck only tightened and he surged for air and this place had been where he came for a breath. He never was able to understand why everything was the way it was as and when he looked for answers, he couldn't, at least from not where he was. As he stood there watching over the city of London he was hit with strong realisation of how much he actually missed being here, missed the smell of the pizza place down the road and the sound of loud TV from the apartment next door and the lights that flickered on the road by the passing cars and the sight of clock tower, he missed being able to see over such a long latitude and wonder how farther the end is and it wasn't as if he didn't like paris, but paris wasn't London. Paris didn't had that flickering lights going by down the streets or the kids running down the streets on a skateboard or the loud neighbour next door with obnoxious loud TV nor it had the clock nor Paris had that calming grey look in the sky because of the always unprecedented rain about to happen any moment. Paris just wasn't what he thought it was.

" missed this ?" He heard. Harry didn't need to turn around, he just nodded.

" paris doesn't give you this ?" He asked as he stood by next to harry.

" there's a lot of things paris doesn't have " harry mumbled wishing he could explain Draco everything but he couldn't. He waited for Draco to ask why did he leave but he never asked and this is why perhaps tonight Harry was here and not there. Perhaps this is why Harry found it easier to be with Draco because he didn't ask too many questions, because he never asked unless he knew harry wanted to asked, because he understood when Harry didn't feel like talking, because he understood harry like no one else and even when draco should be the last person to understand harry and give him another chance, he did and maybe that's why he was here tonight, in the heart of the City with the one man who's heart was just broken as Harry because he knew harry, when no one else seemed to.

" London is home-"

" and Paris isn't ?"

Harry just shook his head. Paris was everything but home.

Because in paris, there wasn't you. Because there wasn't you in your blue blowy shirt and washed jeans with open arms, there wasn't you..

Part 7

I don't know why the short chapter!!!

300 followers appreciation dialogue Prompt requests open

Angst prompts request open

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catchmewiddershins · 4 years ago

Note

Hi🥺

if it's too much trouble, could I request a pt. 3 of the ‘overhearing their crush talking about them’ with oikawa, akaashi and yamaguchi?

Thanks in advance and have a nice day!💕

Haikyuu Characters Overhearing their crush talking about them - pt 3:

Includes: Oikawa, Akaashi and Yamaguchi! 💖 SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG 🥺 I’m so glad you asked bcs I needed a reason to write a third part hehe

Oikawa:

He could barely keep his eyes open. Contrary to popular belief, Oikawa wasn’t a monster, he couldn’t keep pushing and pushing and never feel the consequences. Interhigh was approaching again and he was desperate to win, desperate to see the national court just one time before he left high school, desperate to prove that all of the blood, sweat and tears that he had poured into this sport wasn’t futile. So he’d stayed awake, he trained until late at night and woke before the crack of dawn to practice. And now he was feeling the toll, incapable of focusing on the words of the teacher at the front of the class, he let his mind drift, getting shocked out of his skin when the bell rang for lunch.

Floating down the corridors, he almost fell asleep standing up until he walked into a door frame. Then, as he rounded the corner he heard your voice. Oikawa had been harbouring feelings for you for a while now, ever since you’d been kind to him outside of the usual fangirl devotion - you’d helped him hide from a few of them while he was late for practice, and he’d been trying to work up the courage to confess to you. He was just... worried that you’d assume he was asking in a playboy manner, rather than from sincere feelings. Suddenly, he paused, having heard his name in passing from your conversation.

“Why do you want to go to a volleyball match? Like at interhigh?”

“Because Oikawa’s playing and I wanted to cheer him on!” There you were, you sounded so cheerful, it made his heart flutter and heat sprang to his face.

“Isn’t he that guy who’s really pretty? I hear that tons of people are swooning over him, you’ll have a lot of competition if you wanna blend in.”

“I mean yeah... he’s pretty but that’s not why I like him!”

“What, you’re different from the rest? Why do you like him then, if not his looks? They seem to be the only thing of his that are of note.”

His heart sank a little, there it was again, that focus. His hair, his eyes, his face, people complimented him on them left and right and it made him wonder if that was all he was worth - is that all he is? Just a pretty-boy athlete?

You sounded... indignant?

“I like him because of his skills, for one! Have you seen his serve? That thing looks as if it could turn my face into a pancake! And besides that, he’s such a great leader! His team clearly flourishes with him as captain, I saw one match where he couldn’t make it and they were only working at 3/4 max of the potential that Oikawa is able to draw out of them - it’s incredible! I worked on a project with him once and he was both in charge and so considerate! He’s more than his face, you know.” Your hands moved passionately and he could imagine the sparkles in your eyes as you talked, the way you occasionally did about your favourite media or facts.

He was in deep, and your rant at your friend gave him the nudge he needed to confess immediately... or maybe at interhigh.

Akaashi:

He nodded as you spoke, having been asked to help tutor you for the upcoming exam, as you had a few things that you were stuck on. He’d accepted immediately, since he was absolutely smitten with you. Nobody had been told about this, not even Bokuto, because he would tease Akaashi to kingdom come if he found out - or he’d try to set you up, which would be even worse. Gently correcting a mistake you’d made in your work, he took the time to appreciate being so close to you. Akaashi loved to spend time with you, since you’d become tentative friends due to sitting adjacent to each other in Biology, and since you occasionally came to his matches, but only when you had the time.

There was a slight noise as his phone buzzed in his pocket, and, taking it out, he saw a text from Bokuto, saying that he’d forgotten where the bibs for practice were stored and that he was outside the classroom so that Akaashi could point him in the right direction. Stepping outside with a sigh, he showed Bokuto which way the storage cupboard was, and gave him very clear directions on how to get back to the gym from there, along with another, not really that sincere, apology for having to miss practice to tutor you. However, just before he opened the door again to the spare classroom that you were working in, his ears picked up the sound of your voice, on the phone to one of your friends.

“Yes I am getting tutored by Akaashi!” His curiosity was piqued, was your friend interested in him or something? He couldn’t hear the sound from your phone speaker, but your response sent sparks through him.

“No, of course I haven’t confessed to him - It’s not like he likes me back! Besides, we are actually supposed to be working!”

“...”

“Yes, I’m sure I like him! He’s so considerate, and he explains things really well, and he always knows how to help, and he’s gorgeous.”

Oh. Oh Oh Oh! You liked him! He couldn’t stop the beaming smile that shone across his face as your conversation with your friend trailed off, leaning against the wall outside and trying to quell the ache in his cheeks that came with such a wide, lovestruck grin. His ears were pink and his eyes sparkled, and if anyone had walked past him at that moment, they’d say that he’d never looked more alive.

He walked into the classroom, glowing, and sat back down next to you before clearing his throat. He could see redness in your face as well, and mustered all his courage to do what he’d been wanting to for a while.

“Hey... I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you today and... I was wondering if... you’d maybe like to go out with me sometime?”

Your resounding yes made this the best day ever.

Yamaguchi:

It was a Saturday, sunny, warm, and boring. Yamaguchi had decided to try and pass the time by going for a quick stroll down to his favourite café, passing through a lovely green park on the way, where he walked around, looking at the different species of flower, and the fish in the ponds, throwing a few crumbs of bread to them as he passed. To be honest, the only way for the day to be more perfect would have been a backing soundtrack, then it would have felt like something directly out of a feel-good film.

Coming to a new street, he wandered past a few shops, until he came to where he’d been meaning to come. The sweets sold here were the best, and getting one, plus a lemonade, to take away while he walked was just an extremely relaxing thing to do. He was planning to go and read a book in the park, to soak up some of the sunlight and enjoy the lovely afternoon.

The bell tinkled as he pushed open the door, and his nose was caressed by the smell of baking bread and sugar. However, as he approached the front to order, he spotted you and a couple of your friends sitting in the corner, near the window, all of you nursing some cold drinks and chatting with one another. His heart jumped into his throat, the sound of it pounding in his ears. The lady at the countertop, who had got to know Yamaguchi relatively well, since he came here so often, leaned over and grinned at him.

“Do you know them?” She asked, a twinkle in her eyes. At his nod, she giggled and said to him, “Whichever of them you like, you should say so! I bet they’d say yes!”

He thanked her, quietly, and smiled, knowing that she only meant well, and waited at the side of the counter for his order to be ready. As he waited, your voice drifted over to him from your seat at the window.

“So, do you like anyone?” One of your friends said with a laugh, you appeared to be having one of those lighthearted discussions that good friends sometimes have about such things.

A blush sprang to your face, and you brought a hand to your eyes, “...Maybe...” Leaning forwards, your friend gestured for you to continue. You sunk further into your chair in embarrassment.

“Ok... so you know... Yamaguchi?”

“Yamaguchi?” Your friend replied excitedly.

“Yeah,” smiling, your gaze drifted a little, as if you were lost in thought. “He’s just the sweetest, honestly, so supportive and kind, he helped me out after I tripped over the other day, and, when I missed one of the maths lessons, he talked me through the material... he’s lovely...”

Grinning, your friend patted your hand, relaxing back into their chair, “Well, he’s definitely not the worst person for you to be crushing on, you’ll need to drop some hints though... want a hand?”

“Stop it!” You whined, bringing your hands up again to cover your tomato-red face as your friend laughed.

Yamaguchi left the café with three things, a pastry, a lemonade, and the resolve to ask you out the next time he saw you. He practically skipped down the lane as he went back to the park, joy filling his heart.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

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just-dreaming-marvel · 4 years ago

Text

Love and Medicine ~ 1

MASTERLIST

Word Count: 2,300ish

Summary: You begin your intern year at Avengers Medical Center

You let out a little groan as you turned around. You immediately knew you were naked as the cold wood floor sent chills down your bare body. Slowly opening your eyes, you took in your surroundings. You were home, in the house you had just inherited, boxes still pilled high around the living room you were laying in. Suddenly, someone else groaned beside you. You teased, clenching your eyes shut. The headache you had been ignoring since you woke finally broke free and you realized that your late night drunkenness must have caused you to bring a guy home.

You let out a long breath as you reopened your eyes and looked over at the hopefully-still-asleep man beside you. He wasn’t bad looking at all. You had really done well. He was blonde with a chiseled body. He had to have been at least six foot, which didn’t hurt. He was naked though, all out in the open on your living room floor. Cringing, you sat up, pulling one blanket from the couch to quickly cover yourself before standing and pulling one over him. You stood up silently, and began making your way out of the room. It was your first day of your intern year as a doctor, you couldn’t afford to be late.

You successfully made it to the doorway of the living room without a sound before the floorboard beneath you creaked. You should there, frozen, closing your eyes in hopes that the man sleeping behind you wouldn’t wake. You could hear him turn over, letting a small moan out of his mouth. Waiting a few more seconds, you started going again.

“You know…” the man started, clearly in his morning voice, “it’s usually rude to disappear on someone after spending a night with them.”

You quickly spun around to see him, still laying on his stomach, looking up at you with a sly grin.

“Well,” you cleared your throat, “it’s my house, so it’s not that rude.”

He stood up, not grabbing the blanket as quick as he should have, letting you have another look at him. When you met his eyes again, it was clear that you had been caught staring and that he was enjoying it.

“Why the rush to silently get out of here?” He asked, tucking the blanket around his waist. “Have a husband or a boyfriend you have to hurry and get ready for?”

“Neither,” you responded, tightening your hold on the blanket covering you. “I’m running late for my first day of work. So, if we’re done here, you should go.”

“We don’t have to be done here.”

“I think we do.” You kicked up his shirt, grabbing it, and throwing him at it. “You need to go.” He caught his shirt, slipping it on slowly over his clear cut abs. “So, um, goodbye… um…”

“Steve,” he reached his hand out.

“Steve. Right,” you shook his hand. “Y/N.”

“Y/N.” He smiled. It almost took your breath away, but you couldn’t let it show.

“Yeah.”

“Nice meeting you.”

“Yeah. Bye, Steve.”

You fled up the stairs, hoping that by the time you were done getting ready, Steve would be gone.

~~~

You made it to the Avengers Medical Center just in time to meet up with the other interns in your year. The Chief of Surgery, Dr. Nicholas J. Fury, was leading a small tour to the ORs. He started talking as the interns took in the OR.

“Each of you comes here hopeful. Wanting in on the game. A month ago you were in med school being taught by doctors. Today, you are the doctors,” Fury stated. “The seven years you spend here as a surgical resident will be the best and worst of your life. You will be pushed to the breaking point. Look around you. Say hello to your competition. Eight of you will switch to an easier specialty. Five of you will crack under the pressure. Two of you will be asked to leave. This is your starting line. This is your arena. How well you play? That's up to you.”

He then told each of the interns which resident they were assigned to. You got Dr. Gamora. All of the interns were then taken to the locker room, where each of you were assigned a locker and given scrubs to change into and start your long day.

“Only ten women out of thirty,” you muttered as you slipped your scrubs on.

“Yeah,” the woman with fiery red hair next to you responded. “I heard that one of them was a model. Seriously, like that’s going to help with the respect thing?”

“You’re Natasha, right?”

She nodded. “You’re Y/N?”

“Mhm,” you hummed.

“Which resident did you get assigned to? I got Gamora.”

“Me too.”

“You got Gamora?” A male intern repeated beside you. “So did I. At least we’ll all be tortured together, right? I’m Clint Barton, uh, we met at the mixer. You had a dress with a slit up the side, those shiny heels…” You and Natasha exchanged looks. “Now you think I’m gay.”

“Uh-huh,” Natasha hummed, heading out the door.

“No, I’m not gay! It’s, ah, it’s just that, you know, you were, I mean… You were very unforgettable,” Clint rambled as you both followed after Natasha. You shot him a sympathetic smile before hurrying to catch up with Natasha. “And I’m totally forgettable.”

“Barton, L/N, Romanoff, Valkyrie, Lang,” a doctor called at the door way.

“Gamora?” Natasha questioned that doctor that called you.

“End of the hall.”

The five of you that were called began walking. At the end of the hall, you saw a pretty woman working on paperwork. She didn’t look as threatening as you had heard she was.

“That’s Dr. Gamora?” Natasha wondered.

“From what I heard, I thought she’d look scarier,” the other male in your group of five said. You guessed it was Scott Lang.

“Yeah,” Clint agreed. “I thought she’d be… well, bigger.”

“Same,” you added.

“Maybe it’s professional jealousy,” a woman in your group suggested, Valkyrie, you presumed. “Maybe she’s brilliant, and they say things about her because they’re jealous. Maybe she’s really nice.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re the model,” Natasha said.

“Wait…” Clint said, looking at Nat. “I thought you were the model.”

Valkyrie shot Natasha a look before turning to Dr. Gamora with an extended hand. “Hi, I’m Valkyrie, but everyone calls me Val.”

Gamora looked her up and down, not even moving to shake Val’s hand. “I have five rules,” Gamora stated, clearly unimpressed already. “Rule number one, don’t bother sucking up, I already hate all of you, that’s not gonna change.” She turned and pointed to things on the counter. “Trauma protocol, phone lists, pagers. Nurses will page you, you answer every page at a run. A run, that's rule number two. Your first shift starts now and lasts forty-eight hours.”

Gamora began walking away with you and the others quickly following, after each of you have grabbed the things off the counter.

“You’re interns, grunts, nobodies, bottom of the surgical food chain, you run labs, write orders, work every second night till you drop and don’t complain!” She continued. Gamora led you to a door, opening it to reveal a room with bunk beds. “On call rooms. Attendings hog them, sleep when you can, where you can, which brings me to rule number three, if I'm sleeping, don't wake me, unless your patient is actually dying. Rule number four, the dying patient better not be dead when I get there, not only would you have killed someone, you would have also woke me for no good reason, we clear?” There was a brief pause before you nervously raised your hand. “Yes.”

“You said five rules,” you tried to hold back a cringe as you spoke up. “That was only four.”

Suddenly, Gamora’s pager beeped. “Rule number five. When I move, you move.” She ran down the corridor, followed by you and the other interns. “Get out of my way!” She yelled at a few doctor’s blocking the hallway.

You had the others followed Gamora to the ER. There was a bustling trauma room that the six of you entered. There was a young female on the stretcher, already being hooked to the machines.

“What’ve we got?” Gamora asked.

“Savannah Chase, fifteen year old female,” the paramedic still in the room stated. “New onset seizures, intermittent for the past week. ID lost en route. Started gran mal seizing when the ambulance pulled up.”

“Alright, get her on her side, Val, ten milligrams Diazepam.” Val started to do as she was directed while the rest of you watched. “No, no, the white lead is on the right, righty whitey, smoke over fire, a large bore IV. Don’t let the blood haemolyse, let’s go!”

Val injected the young woman with the diazepam and she stopped seizing. A new Doctor entered the room.

“So I heard we got a wet fish on dry land?” The man asked.

“Absolutely Dr. Banner,” Gamora responded.

“Dr. Gamora, I’m gonna shotgun her.”

“That means every test in the book, CT, CBC, chem seven, a tox screen,” Gamora clarified for the interns. “Natasha, you’re on labs, Clint, patient workups, Y/N, get Savannah for a CT, she’s your responsibility now.” Gamora began to walk away.

“Wait,” both Val and Lang called out. Gamora turned back around.

“What about us?” Val asked.

“You two—honey, you get to do rectal exams.”

~~~

You were currently in an elevator with Savannah, the patient, trying to find your way to CT. Since it was your first day at the medical center, you didn’t know where anything was and you were too stubborn to ask.

“You’re lost,” Savannah stated.

“I’m not lost,” you defended. “How are you feeling?”

“How do you think I’m feeling? I’m missing my pageant.”

“You’re missing your pageant.” You wheeled her out of the elevator and around a corner, still not knowing where you were headed.

“The Manhattan Teen Miss? I was in the top ten after the first two rounds. This is my year. I could’ve won.” Savannah sat up as she was wheeled back around the same way. “Hello? You’re so lost. What are you, like, new?”

“I’m— just tell me what happened.”

“I twisted my ankle. I do rhythmic gymnastics, which is like, really cool. Nobody else does it. And I tripped over my ribbon, and I didn't get stuck with someone this clueless. And that was like, a nurse.”

You gritted your teeth, trying not to be over-the-line rude to a patient on your first day. It took you almost another forty five minutes to find CT. You helped her with the scan before taking her back to a room. Before you knew it, it was lunch time. You grabbed some food from the cafeteria, finding your group of interns alone at a table.

“Savannah Chase is a pain in the ass,” you grumbled as you sat down with your tray. “If I hadn't taken the Hippocratic oath, I'd Kevorkian her with my bare hands.” The others around her just stared. “What?”

“Good afternoon interns,” a new doctor came up. “I’m Dr. Maria Hill. It’s posted, but I thought I’d share the good news personally. As you know, the honor of performing the first surgery is reserved for the intern that shows the most promise. As I’m running the OR today, I get to make that choice. I’ve been watching you all and I have to say, you’re all something. The intern I’ve chosen is, Scott Lang.”

Scott coughed up the drink he had been taking. “M-me?” He questioned.

“You’ll scrub in for an appendectomy this afternoon. Congratulations.” Then she left.

“Did she say me?”

“I can’t believe you were chosen over me,” Natasha grumbled. “It’s already clear that I’m a better surgeon that you.”

“Did she say… I’m sorry. What?”

~~~

After lunch, you went back to Savannah’s room to take care of her. As you did, a man and a woman, not doctors, came in.

“Savannah, honey, mom and dad are here,” the woman said, coming over to Savannah’s bedside.

“They gave her a sedative for the CT scan, so she’s a little groggy,” you informed them.

“Will she be alright?” The mother asked.

“Our doctor at home said she might need an operation, is that true?” The father wondered.

“What kind of operation?”

“She’s, um, well, you know what,” you tried your best to sound professional through your nervous stuttering, “I’m not, I’m not the doctor, uh. I am a doctor, but I’m not Savannah’s doctor, so I’ll go get him for you.”

You quickly left the room to go find Gamora. Thankfully, she was at the nurses desk just outside of the room. You hurried over but were too nervous to start speaking.

“What?” Gamora questioned, not looking up from the paperwork she was doing.

“Savannah’s parent’s have questions,” you responded. “Do you talk to them, or do I ask Banner?”

“No, Banner’s off of the case. Savannah belongs to the new attending now, Dr. Rogers, he’s over there.”

You follow in the direction that Gamora gestured to. You only made it a few steps before freezing. The man Gamora gestured to was talking to another doctor. But that wasn’t the reason you froze. Dr. Rogers was none other than your one night stand, Steve. Your eyes widened and you turned to go, but it was too late. Steve glanced your way, having to do a double take. You quickly left, feeling his eyes on the back of you.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.”

next chapter >

NOTES: Yes, this has been posted before, but I deleted it. I’m trying again. From now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

#steve rogers x reader #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #nick fury x reader #clint barton x reader #scott lang x reader #valkyrie x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #gamora x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines

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sleepysnk · 4 years ago

Text

not a very long chapter today, but next chapter will be VERY IMPORTANT. keep watch for it! <3

Team Player: Chapter Five

Pairings: Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.9k

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

Eren awoke to the aching of his ankle. His green eyes fluttered open as he reached for his phone on his nightstand, the screen lighting up and showing the time that said 8:55 A.M. It felt too early to be awake, but his ankle was bothering him too much.

He arose from his bed and looked over at Armin's bed. He was already gone and out to class. Eren stood up and winced as his ankle throbbed in pain.

Unfortunately for him, he was now injured way worse than he was before. His muscle was now more irritated and the nurse told him that he needed to skip the next game or two to make sure it fully healed. Eren was irritated with that. He wanted to get back on the field as quickly as he could, but he knew damn well Coach Smith wouldn't let him. Judging on how pissed off he looked on Saturday, Eren was certain there was no way he could smoothly talk to him.

Eren grabbed the side of his bed, reaching for the small bottle of pills that was prescribed for the pain. He had to take more now since he wasn't doing that well. The nurse gave him so many instructions on how to take care of his ankle, it all bombarded him at once.

Grabbing the plastic water bottle, Eren put the meds in his mouth and swallowed, feeling the pills go down his throat.

He quickly changed into a sweater and black sweatpants, making sure to wear the patch the nurse gave him. He threw on slides and grabbed his backpack, exiting his dorm to the main campus.

As he entered the main doors, he felt eyes suddenly boring holes into his head. Eren hung his head low as he stared at his phone, trying to get some attention off of him. Many people were pissed at what happened during the game, people clowned him on Twitter, giving him nicknames or posting meme videos to his fail. It was honestly kind of embarrassing for him. Many sports analysts talked about it, and Eren knew that wasn't good.

Eren's eyes averted upward as he saw Jean walking with Marco.

"Hey Jean," Eren said and approached him.

Jean stood there and clenched his jaw. "What do you want dude? You here to tell me how shitty of a lineman I am?" he asked and crossed his arms. "Look dude.. no offense but stay out of my way." he added and pushed past Eren.

Eren stood there watching Jean walk off. He's never seen him act that way before, Jean usually kept his words to himself sometimes, but it kind of made Eren feel shitty.

"You suck!" a random student yelled and looked at Eren. "Selfish as fuck.." he added and kept walking.

Eren didn't even do anything. He just walked away from the guy near him. His mind was clouded with so many thoughts, he really was the laughing stock of Trost. Everyone just stared at him as he walked in the hall to his class, what was he going to do? He couldn't exactly clear his name or whatever, the footage was all online.

He silently prayed things would go well at practice.

The day seemed to pass by slowly for Eren.

He barely did anything in most of his classes and he didn't bother to pay attention.

What bothered him the most was that most of his teammates avoided him, whenever Eren tried to say hello they all ignored him, or they told him to go away. The team’s loss was not his intention, he wanted to show everyone his talent out on the field as well as impressing the scout that was there and to make others proud.

Going on social media was the worst. People made memes about his fail, and many people were disappointed in what happened. They looked like idiots during that game, the Titans were their rivals too, which also meant that the school itself looked absolutely shitty.

Eren could care less what was happening in his physics class, the teacher just blabbed on and on about velocity and other crap. None of it seemed to interest Eren as he was just too lost in his thoughts about the game.

"You're all dismissed!" the professor called and looked around the room.

Eren stood up and slung his backpack over his shoulder, he walked slowly down the hall as his ankle was bothering him still. What was he going to do?

The day had already ended and Eren decided to make his way to practice, he knew he couldn't exactly play or catch any balls, but maybe he could just observe.

He opened the door to the locker room and saw many of his teammates staring or exchanging looks with one another, he felt awkward walking in there. This hasn't exactly happened to him before either.

"What are you doing here?" Reiner asked, crossing his arms. "You're hurt. Coach doesn't want you here," he added.

Eren looked at the blonde who seemed to be in a bad mood. "I-I just… wanted to observe," he replied and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Eren." his head turned to see Coach Smith standing there with his arms crossed. "Come into my office… we need to have a chat," he said and waved him over.

Eren gulped and made his way into the office, his pulse began to race rapidly. He knew it probably wasn't good.

"Have a seat," Coach Smith said and plopped down at his desk.

Eren put his backpack down on the ground and looked at his Coach, his icy hues burning holes into his head.

"U-Um… what do you want to speak about?" Eren asked, giving a weak smile.

Coach Smith leaned back and sighed. "It's about what happened on Saturday-"

"I'm sorry. That was totally my fault, I thought Jean was going to get-" he was cut off.

"I didn't finish Eren," he said sternly and crossed his arms. "Eren what happened on Saturday was absolutely unacceptable and unsportsmanlike. Jean is your teammate! I gave Reiner that call to throw to him, not you. Your behavior lately has been very inappropriate.”

Eren looked down and bit his lip. "B-But! I thought he was going to get tackled! If I-"

"Enough. There is no excuse for your actions Eren, not only that, but you were hurt too. I told you three times that if you were hurt, to step off the field. That's not okay at all Eren. Look at you now! Your ankle is now even worse than before. Your actions are extremely selfish," he stated.

Eren fell silent as his words played into his head.

"Until you can play like a team player, leave." Coach Smith said.

Eren looked up with wide eyes. "What? What do you mean leave?!" he asked with concern in his voice.

"Until you can get your act together, you're benched and off the team. There's not buts anymore Eren, I've let your behavior slide numerous times. Your own teammates have come to me about this as well, so until you can gain some proper teamwork skills you're benched," he replied. "Don't bother coming to practice or showing up to games or I will suspend you," he added.

Eren leaned back in his chair. "You can't do this coach please! I need this season!" he pleaded and looked at him with pleading eyes.

Coach Smith stood up. "Nobody wants a player who can't think for anyone else, especially not the Chiefs," he said. "Now please… leave. Don't show up for the rest of the week," he added and went towards the door.

Eren grabbed his backpack and exited the office, many eyes watched as he exited the locker room. Frustration, anger, and even sadness rushed through him all at once. How could his own Coach do that to him!? Coach Smith has believed in Eren from the day he entered Trost. Why the sudden change?

He went outside and breathed in the cool air, the leaves fell from the trees as it was now fall. The leaves crunched under his feet as he walked back to his residence hall, he just wanted to lay in bed and sleep the rest of the day.

He eventually got back and opened the door, Armin sat on the opposite side of the room with his laptop open.

"Eren? You're back early. Short practice today?" he asked and nodded.

Eren threw his backpack onto the floor which made a loud thump come from it. "No.." he replied and sat on his bed. "It's way worse than that," he added.

Armin furrowed his brows. "What happened?" he asked.

Eren threw his phone onto his nightstand. "I got benched for what happened at the rival game, so don't expect me to be playing. I can't go to practice either," he replied and leaned against the wall.

The blondes eyes went wide as saucers hearing the news. "What? That's never happened to you before…" he said and looked down.

"Yeah.. I guess the other players have talked about it too," Eren said and adjusted his man bun. "Which is absolute bullshit to me," he added and shrugged.

Armin stayed silent as he listened to Eren rant, he knew how badly the situation was. Being injured didn’t exactly help anyone, being benched was the best course of action. Seeing the way he played on Saturday was kind of embarrassing in a way, Eren barely let anybody have the ball.

"What am I going to do? My teamwork skills are fine!" Eren complained, staring up at the ceiling.

Armin laughed a bit. "You're going to have to work on it yourself. Teamwork takes a lot of self work, it's up to you to fix it." he replied. "I wish I could help but to be honest, I suck at that kind of stuff." he added.

Eren felt a small smile draw onto his lips. "It's okay Armin… I guess I have to fix all of this on my own," he said.

"So you're benched for the next game?" Armin asked and nodded a bit.

Eren sighed. "Yup… and who knows how long either. Coach told me to not show until I get my act together," he replied, putting his arms behind his head. "Which sounds stupid to me because I'm fine the way I am," he added and shrugged his shoulders.

Armin closed his laptop and placed it next to him. "Maybe you have to accept his words Eren.. he could be just trying to help you," he said, looking over at him. "Sometimes you have to face the reality of it," he added.

Eren sat up and looked towards his roommate. "No.. there's nothing wrong with me Armin. If he was trying to help he wouldn't have benched me," he replied. "I'll be fine.. just don't worry about it," he said and stood up limping to get his medication.

Armin stayed silent and just watched as Eren took his medication. Was Eren right about everything? Maybe his skills were fine and everyone was just being dramatic, or maybe Coach Smith was right. Maybe Eren needed the work, that was something Armin wasn't sure of, but judging off the way Eren played on Saturday… he was convinced Eren did have issues on the field.

One thing was for certain, something was up with Eren.

tagging: @ererokii @eremiie @callmepromise @moomii-hime @katsuhera @flam3bird @kc-braun @backstagepaige @thicmitten @daughter-of-the-stars11 @just-a-little-sad @chayauwu @sof-yeager @basket-flower-chick @lunamoonawatcher

#anime #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot x reader #aot x y/n #aot fanfiction #aot imagines #snk x y/n #snk x reader #snk imagines #snk fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #anime fanfic #team player

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purple-fireflies · 3 years ago

Text

try to slip past his defense (without granting innocence)

A/N: Soy Luna Grey’s Anatomy au -- some plot devices will be the same, others may differ. (This is just an excerpt, I'll post the full chapter on ao3 & tumblr when I'm done with it!)

Other notes:

The title is from The Fray’s “How To Save A Life” which is basically the show’s anthem song (that and chasing cars)

Sometimes, certain dialogue may be verbatim from the show (this is only for medical-related plot devices, ie meeting patients, assigning lab reports, establishing exposition, etc) so I’m stating here right now that that specific dialogue belongs to Grey’s Anatomy, and the characters belong to Soy Luna, but everything else belongs to me

Juliana never had the last name given in the show, so for story’s sake, it’s Bahiense.

She’s referred to as “The Nazi” but that’s not meant to offend anyone at all, it was the nickname given in the show, so I’m transferring it here.

In Soy Luna, Ámbar is one year older than Luna, but here she’s the same age as her

In Grey’s Anatomy, there are only 5 people in each group of interns, but for plot’s sake, there are 7 each

In the show, Benicio’s name was never mentioned, so for writing purposes, his last name is going to be Calisto

Luna sits up quickly—bad idea.

She winces at the light coming in through the window and groans at her headache.

And someone stirs next to her.

Exactly how much did she drink?

Enough so she doesn’t remember the name of the smirky boy staring at her, pulling on his boxers.

She is never drinking again.

And he needs to leave.

“You are?” He asks, grinning the grin that probably got Luna into this mess.

“Humiliated on so many levels,” She mutters, “And I’m late, as well. So if you could just, I dunno, leave, that would be perfect,”

“Or we could pick up where we left off?” He asks, with a grin that tells Luna he isn’t used to being rejected.

“No, seriously. I’m late. Which I shouldn’t be on my first day of work, so?”

Take the hint.

“Wait, so you live here?”

Jesus Christ, she’s going to be late.

“Huh? Oh yeah, it was my aunt’s house, but I’m selling it so technically, not for long.” She rushes out.

“I’m sorry,” He replies, actual emotion in his eyes.

“My aunt is still ali—you know, we don’t have to do the thing,”

“We can do whatever you want,”

Really?

“No, the thing. Where you pretend you care or ask me nice questions or whatever. Listen. I’m going to go upstairs and shower, and when I get back, you’re not going to be here, uh…”

What was his name?

He laughs softly, “Matteo.”

“Luna,” She replies, shaking his hand.

“Bye, Luna,” He says winking at her.

She smiles in response and jerks her head towards the door.

“Bye, Matteo,”

And that’s the last she has to see of him.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

“Each of you comes here hopeful. Wanting in on the game. A month ago you were in med school being taught by doctors. Today, you are the doctors. The seven years you spend here as a surgical resident will be the best and worst of your life. You will be pushed to the breaking point. Look around you. Say hello to your competition. Eight of you will switch to an easier specialty. Five of you will crack under the pressure. Two of you will be asked to leave. This is your starting line. This is your arena. How well you play? That's up to you,” The chief, Tamara Rios, says as Luna stumbles into the room, causing everyone to stare at her.

Great job, Valente.

Luna walks around the room. She sees Ámbar, avoiding her gaze as if it was poisonous. She sees another girl, a brunette, looking around the room with wide eyes. She sees Simón, looking back at her, and resists waving at him as a kindergartner would. She walks around the OR a little more and sees two girls so close they might as well be stuck together, one a blonde and the other a redhead. She bumps into another boy, who just huffs softly and brushes her off.

Rude.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

The resident takes 3 more interns, leaving Luna with the brunette she saw at the orientation.

“Only 6 women out of 20,” She says, sighing, as if mad at the statistic itself.

“And I think one of them’s a model. As if that would’ve helped with the whole respect thing,” The redhead interjects.

Luna and Ámbar share a look.

Luna turns to the brunette.

“You’re Nina, right?” She says, smiling.

Nina nods, “Which resident did you get assigned to? I got Bahiense.”

“The Nazi? Me too,” Luna replies.

The guy who bumped into her says, “You got the Nazi? So did I. At least we’ll be tortured together,” He says, trying to lean into Luna’s space.

Luna and Nina exchange a quick look saying, God, can you believe him?

A doctor comes up and calls out “Smith, Valente, Ponce, Simonetti, Medina, Sánchez, Álvarez,”

Ámbar walks up to the guy and asks, “Bahiense?”

He points down the hall.

The seven look down to see who he’s pointing at. It’s a woman slightly shorter than them, using a cane to stand up, ordering some other resident around.

The guy who bumped into her says, “I thought the Nazi would be a guy,”

Sexist much?

“I thought the Nazi would be...you know, the Nazi,” Luna mutters.

“Guys seriously? Maybe it’s just professional jealousy. You know, maybe she’s just brilliant and they’re so jealous so they call her the Nazi. Maybe she’s nice.” The redhead says, and Luna sees her nametag saying Jimena Medina.

The blonde next to her, Yamila Sánchez, Luna supposes, nods.

Which means the only one left that she doesn’t know would be...Luna cranes her neck to see his nametag.

Ramiro Ponce. Who is currently staring wistfully at Yamila.

Please.

“Let me guess, you still have hope left in your heart,” Ámbar says to Jimena, rolling her eyes as if it’s what she was born to do.

Jimena shoots Ámbar a dirty look (wow, Luna wishes her luck with that can of worms) and proceeds to try to shake Dr. Bahiense’s hand when she walks over.

Dr. Bahiense looks at her hand as if it’s infectious.

Jimena, undeterred, continues to say, “Right, well. I’m Jimena Medina, but you can call me Jim if it’s easier,”

Yamila, who seemed to jump out of thin air, says, “And you can call me Yam,”

Bahiense looks so unimpressed Luna thinks that if contempt alone was enough to murder someone, Bahiense would be a serial killer.

Luna shares a quick look with Simón, who gives her a reassuring nod.

Bahiense looks them all up and down, evidently annoyed with being stuck with their group (ouch).

"I have five rules. Memorize them. Rule number one, don't bother sucking up, I already hate you, that's not gonna change,” She starts, then moves to a bench, filled with different objects, “Trauma protocol, phone lists, pagers. Nurses will page you, you answer every page at a run. A run, that's rule number two. Your first shift starts now and lasts forty-eight hours,”

Everyone rushes to grab their pagers, studying them before Bahiense starts talking again.

“You’re interns, grunts, nobodies, bottom of the surgical food chain, you run labs, write orders, work every second night till you drop, and don't complain!”

Bahiense opens what Luna supposes is an on-call room, “On-call rooms. Attendings hog them, sleep when you can, where you can, which brings me to rule number three, if I'm sleeping, don't wake me, unless your patient is actually dying. Rule number four, the dying patient better not be dead when I get there, not only would you have killed someone, you would have also woken me for no good reason, we clear?”

Luna rushes to nod, writing furiously on her notepad, and then goes, oh.

She raises her hand.

Dr. Bahiense looks extremely pissed at Luna for having the audacity to have a question.

“Yes?”

“You said five rules. Those were only four.” Luna says, trying not to wilt against Dr. Bahiense’s gaze.

“Rule number five. When I move, you move,” She says after her pager beeps.

That’s some TV show shit right there.

They break into a run and watch as Dr. Bahiense runs down a couple of doctors.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

The helicopter—yes, a helicopter—lands, and a doctor pulls out a teenager on a stretcher.

This is way too much for Luna on her first day.

“What do we got?” Bahiense asks, and Luna hears Nina correct the grammar under her breath.

As the paramedic puts the girl on the stretcher (while she’s seizing) he says, “Katie Bryce, fifteen-year-old female, new-onset seizures, intermittent for the past week, ID lost en route, started grand mal seizing as we descended,”

Bahiense stops, leaning on her cane for a second, and then it’s all business.

“All right. Yam, put her on the side, 10 milligrams diazepam,” Bahiense groans when Yam does it incorrectly, “No, no, the white lead is on the right, righty whitey, smoke over fire, a large-bore I.V. don't let the blood haemolyse, let's go!”

Yam injects the diazepam and Katie stops seizing.

Luna releases the breath that she wasn’t aware she was holding.

Another doctor, in dark blue scrubs, another doctor comes up in stark contrast to what she and the other interns are wearing. Luna catches his name very quickly. Gastón Perida.

Nina sucks in a breath as he walks past them, Luna realizes with a start.

“So I heard we got a wet fish on dry land?” Dr. Perida says, and Luna catches how Nina stares at him with intent.

Dr. Bahiense, her sudden brashness gone, replaced with respect as she says, “Absolutely Dr. Perida,”

Dr. Perida nods, his eyes brushing over the intern group, stopping at Nina, and he then continues.

“All right, Dr. Bahiense, I’m gonna shotgun her,”

“That means every test in the book, CT, CBC, chem. seven, a tox screen, Nina and Ámbar, you're on labs, Ramiro and Yam, patient workups, Luna, get Katie for a CT, she's your responsibility now,”

Wonderful. Her first day and she gets the really hard patient.

“What about me and Simón?” Jim asks.

Bahiense looks so tired when she stares at Jim, “Right, you two, uh. You get to do rectal exams. Okay?”

Jim and Simón have faces that say no, not okay.

Luna makes a face gloating at Simón and he just glares at her in return.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

Ámbar peeks into the OR where Dr. Bahiense is. Bahiense comes out and looks at her expectantly.

“Um, Katie Bryce's labs came out clear, there's nothing in the results that explain her seizures,” She says, hoping to catch Dr. Bahiense to ask her what she really wants to ask her.

“And…?”

“ I heard every year the attending on-call picks the best intern and, and lets them perform a procedure, during the first shift?” Ámbar asks, glaring back at Dr. Bahiense when she tries to stare her down.

Ámbar Smith does not get stared down.

“Go away. Now.” Dr. Bahiense says, and Ámbar groans internally.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

Yam sighs at yet another ill-tried joke Ramiro attempts.

Flirty in med school and flirty now.

Why should she even bother?

“We have one more patient to work up,” She mumbles and he nods, walking slower to keep up with her pace.

She places her stethoscope and hears for a heartbeat. “Everything seems to be in order,”

“So he’ll be fine?” The woman next to him—presumably his wife—asks.

“If you don’t count that my bacon days are over, sure,” The patient replies.

Yam shares a smirk with Ramiro.

“You'll have surgery tomorrow with Dr. Perida, I hear he's good, and after that, you can have all of the bacon-flavored soy product you can eat,” Ramiro interjects, speaking easily with the patients.

“Please, kill me now,” the patient jokes.

“Wish I could, but I took the Hippocratic Oath for a reason,” Yam replies absently, going over and signing his charts.

She blushes at the weird looks she gets and rolls her eyes at Ramiro’s never-ending smirk.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

Katie. Won’t. Stop. Talking. Which isn’t helping Luna find her way through these halls.

Did she just miss the last turn?

“You’re lost,” the kid says, grumbling.

What do you think I’m trying to fix right now? Luna thinks to herself and just about stops herself from saying.

“I’m not lost.” Luna insists, then remembers she’s a doctor, “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m missing my pageant. How do you think I feel?”

“Right. You’re missing your pageant.”

This poor girl is in the hospital with seizures and the only thing that she can think about is her pageant.

Luna feels sorry for her.

“The Spokane Teen Miss? I was in the top ten after the first two rounds. This is my year. I could've won,”

Luna absently hums and realizes that they’re going the wrong way. Again.

She turns around and pushes Katie back the same way.

“You are so lost. What are you, new?”

Luna chokes back a laugh. Yeah, something like that.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

Yam watches Ramiro try to give their patient a central line. It’s not working.

And it’s visibly hurting the patient.

She groans and pushes past him, about to put the line in when Dr. Perida waltzes into their room and raises his eyebrows.

“Out.” He says, his nice demeanor replaced with annoyance.

Do all of the residents and attendings just hate interns on principle?

Yam glares at Ramiro and pulls him out, watching from the window as Perida puts the line in perfectly.

“Bet you used to mess up a lot when you started out,” Ramiro tries to joke with Perida.

Yam just winces and nods at Dr. Perida as she leaves.

Ramiro at least has the decency to look sheepish.

This is going to be a long shift.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

Luna sits, taking Katie’s patient history and generally listening to her incessant babbling.

Luna bites back a retort.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

Simón groans at the plate of food in front of him. The number of rectal exams he and Jim had to do was enough to take the appetite away from anyone.

“This shift is 80 hours long, you have to eat, Simón,” Ámbar mutters, her gaze hardening after leaving Simón’s eyes.

“I can’t.”

“Eat.” Ámbar insists, pushing Simón’s plate towards him.

“You try eating after performing 17 rectal exams. The Nazi hates me. I want to puke.” Simón says, his face contorting.

“Just don’t puke near me,” Ámbar mutters.

“The Nazi’s just a resident. Attendings hate me,” Ramiro replies.

“Did you know Luna is inbred?” Nina asks, and all heads whip to her immediately.

Partly because no one expected the shy ingenue to say anything.

And partly because Luna being inbred is very surprising.

Simón hurries to say “It’s not uncommon to be the kid of a doctor,”

“I mean royally inbred. Her mother is Lili Benson.”

“Shut up. The Lili Benson?” Jim asks.

Nina nods.

“Who’s Lili Benson?” Ramiro asks.

“The Benson method? Where’d you go to med school, Antarctica?” Yam says incredulously.

No one notices how Simón and Ámbar tense up as Yam continues talking. “She was one of the biggest women surgeons. She practically invented th—”

“She won the Harper Avery. Twice.” Jim says, rolling her eyes at Ramiro.

“So I didn’t know one thing.”

“I would kill to have Lili Benson as my mother. Scratch that, I’d kill to be Lili Benson.” Nina says, her eyes alight.

“Katie Bryce is a pain in the ass. I swear if it wouldn’t get me fired, I’d strangle her with my bare hands.” Luna says, walking over to their table, sitting next to Nina.

She seems to miss the wistful glance Simón throws her way.

She does seem to notice the way everyone’s staring at her.

“What?”

Nina opens her mouth to say something but stops immediately when Dr. Perida walks over.

“Good afternoon interns. It's posted, but I thought I'd share the good news personally. As you know, the honor of performing the first surgery is reserved for the intern that shows the most promise. As I'm running the OR today, I get to make that choice,” Dr. Perida says, and Luna feels a rush of hope.

Or. Felt. Seeing as Dr. Perida is clapping Ramiro on his back (it was kind of worth it to see him choke a little on his salad) and saying, “Ramiro Ponce. You’ll be scrubbing in on an appendectomy this afternoon. Congrats.”

Luna deflates.

She wanted that surgery.

She wanted it really badly.

“Me?” Ramiro asks, not quite believing it. Or maybe he’s just wilting under Yam’s intense glare.

“Enjoy.” Dr. Perida says, nodding to everyone.

Luna doesn’t fail to notice that he’s staring at Nina while he says that.

Nina doesn’t fail to notice either, if the blush on her cheeks has anything to say about it.

Ramiro looks like he’s still in shock.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

“I’ve seen his file. Ramiro Ponce barely even made the cut to get into the program. He’s not your guy.” Juliana says to Gastón, raising her eyebrows.

“Oh, he’s my guy alright,” Gastón responds, absently checking the labs.

Juliana sighs, “Every year you pick your guy, and every year your guy suffers most.”

Gastón smiles. Everyone who knows him knows his easy nature, his inclination to being on the side of less serious.

Unless of course, it has to do with work.

“Terrorize one, and the rest fall in line, Bahiense.”

“I get it. I respect it. But Ramiro? Ponce is a puppy. A cute little puppy that is waiting to be killed. He can’t take the pressure. Think about it, Perida.” Juliana says, walking away.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

Luna watches as Katie’s parents stumble into Katie’s room.

The look of pure worry and fear on their faces makes Luna warm to them immediately.

A couple of hours ago, their kid was supposed to go on stage and wear a sash and be a kid.

Now they’re scared that their kid could be dying.

“Katie?” The mom asks, trying to hold her hand.

Luna falters, not wanting to break their little window.

“They gave her a sedative for the CT scan, so she’s just a tad groggy,” Luna says, standing up.

“Will she be okay?”

“Does she need surgery?” The parents ask at the same time.

Their urging faces make Luna wish she had an answer.

“Uh. You know, I’m not her doctor, I am a doctor, just not hers. Anyway, I’m not Katie’s doctor. I’ll go find him.” Luna rambles.

Luna finds Bahiense, “Katie’s parents have questions. Should I get Dr. Perida to answer them?”

“What? No. Perida’s off the case. The case is the new neuro attending’s case, Dr. Balsano. He’s over there.” Bahiense says, pointing to…

Oh god.

Please.

Not today.

This is not happening.

Matteo turns and stops dead in his tracks, his eyes clicking in recognition.

This is not happening.

Luna is not dealing with this.

She turns away from his gaze and walks away. What is she going to do?

She walks towards the stairwell and gets grabbed in.

She stumbles and Matteo catches her, running a hand through his hair, which Luna grudgingly admits looks not bad.

No. Luna. Stop it. Luna. No.

“Dr. Balsano. Did you need anything?” Luna asks, trying to not look at flustered as she is.

Matteo looks positively ecstatic at this turn of events. “Dr. Balsano? This morning it was Matteo. Now it’s Dr. Balsano.”

Luna dearly wants to slap that smirk off of his face.

“Dr. Balsano, we should pretend this never happened,”

“What never happened? You sleeping with me last night or kicking me out this morning because I don’t know about you, but both are memories I’d dearly love to keep.”

This guy really can’t take a hint.

“No. No. No. This is not happening. There are no memories of anything. I’m not the girl in the bar and you’re not the guy in the bar. I am your intern, Dr. Balsano.”

“I see how it is. You took advantage of me last night and now you want to forget about it.” He says, smirking incessantly.

“I most certainly did not,”

“I was drunk and vulnerable. Not to mention, insanely good-looking,”

“You’re not that good-looking,” Luna says, while her traitorous brain says Liar over and over.

“Sure I’m not. But last night, I was wearing my red shirt and I was extremely good-looking and you took advantage,”

He’s not entirely wrong about the red shirt.

“I didn—”

“Want to take advantage again? Say, Friday night?”

He’s smiling again, only this time it’s a smile, not a smirk.

Maybe Luna wouldn’t have said no if he wasn’t an attending.

“No. You’re an attending. I’m your intern. And I would seriously appreciate it if you stopped looking at me like that,” Luna says, glaring at him. It doesn’t seem to deter him.

“Like what?” He asks innocently as if he has no idea what he’s doing right now.

“Like you’ve slept with me,”

Matteo smirks.

“Dr. Balsano. Have you ever considered the fact that this is inappropriate?” Luna breathes.

He doesn’t say anything.

Luna sighs and leaves, the door slamming behind her.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

“Open. Identify. Irrigate. Close.” Jim instructs, and Yam sighs.

“Jim, I think he’d know,”

“He looks like he’s going to puke,” Jim shoots back.

Yam looks at Ramiro and says, “We have to go to the gallery now. Don’t screw it up.”

They walk up and take a seat behind Luna and Nina.

The intern above them says, “He’s going to faint. He’s a fainter.”

Yam fights back a if you only knew.

“Nah, I’m guessing code brown. Right in his pants,” another intern snickers.

Yam and Jim share a look.

Sure, she’s not a huge fan of Ramiro but he helped her a lot in med school. He helped Jim a lot in med school.

This is just savage.

“He’s going to sweat himself unsterile,”

“10 bucks he’s messing up the McBird,” someone says.

Oh god, they’re betting on Ramiro.

“20 says he cries,” Ámbar says, and sends an apologetic look at Luna.

“I’ll put 20 on him melting down completely,”

“50 says he pulls the whole thing off.” Yam hears herself say.

Luna grins at her, “That’s one of us down there. The first one of us. Where the hell is your loyalty?”

Yam breathes out.

The entire gallery, while it was buzzing before, is now silent.

“75 he can’t even ID the appendix,” Ámbar says again.

This time it’s Simón shooting her the look.

“I’ll take that action,” someone says.

Eric, Yam realizes.

The idiot from their bio class.

Nina elbows Luna when Dr. Perida says, “Okay, Ponce, let’s see what you can do,”

Jim breathes in quickly and Yam also holds her breath.

Do it right do it right please do it right.

“Here it comes,” Simón says.

“Scalpel,” Ramiro says and the nurse hands it to him, echoing the word.

Ramiro takes it and everyone cheers.

Perida motions for them to shut up as Nina says, “God, he’s quite a bit of trouble,”

Ramiro gets ready to cut as Perida instructs, “More pressure.”

Ramiro manages to do it without any mishaps and then proceeds to say, “Pickups.”

The scrub nurse echoes the command and hands him the instrument.

They go on for a little bit, and Yam thinks he might actually pull it off.

Until it goes downhill after Ramiro takes out the appendix.

Perida mutters an angry remark as all the interns in the gallery call him Double O’7.

Jim shares a worried look with Yam and asks Luna, “What does 007 mean?”

Luna sends them an apologetic look.

“License to Kill.”

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

The cool air rushes into the basement that Bahiense’s interns have settled into.

The majority of them pile onto the gurney as Nina goes to the vending machine looking for some chocolate.

Luna winces at the whine that Ramiro makes as he walks into their “hideout”.

“They’re calling me 007 aren’t they?”

Luna groans and shoves Simón’s head off of Ámbar’s lap so she can fall asleep in it.

She’s too tired to deal with any human interaction that requires her to, you know, have any sort of emotional security.

“No one’s calling you 007,” Jim and Yam lie (but they do it in unison so like, props).

Ramiro shoots Yam an annoyed look, “I was on an elevator and Eric whispered 007,”

Ámbar pushes Luna’s head off of her lap and glares at Ramiro, “How many times do we have to go through with this? 5, 10, 15? Please tell me soon or I’m going to rim your head off.”

Ramiro sits on the gurney and groans “Eric whispered 007 in the elevator and everyone laughed,”

Luna picks her head up from where she’s trying (unsuccessfully) to fall asleep and actually feels sorry for the guy for a second but the aching limbs and pounding migraine make it kind of hard to console the poor guy.

“They weren’t laughing at you,” Jim says.

“You sure?”

“Would we lie to you?” Jim asks.

“Yes,” Ramiro, Ámbar, Simon and Luna say.

“007 is a state of mind,” Nina yells from the vending machine and throws a packet of chips at Luna as she walks back.

“Says the girl who finished first at freaking Stanford,” Simón yells at her.

Nina just rolls her eyes in response.

Just as Luna finally feels the call of sleep, her pager beeps.

She just wanted 5 minutes.

“It’s 911. Damn. I gotta go,” and Luna takes off at a sprint.

“I should’ve gone into geriatrics. No one cares if you kill an old person.” Ramiro continues after Luna leaves.

“Yes. Yes, they do care if you kill an old person. Plus. Surgery is hot. Geriatrics is… Well, it’s for freaks who live in the basement with their mom,” Simón replies.

“I have got to move out of my mom’s,” Ramiro mutters.

Nina and Ámbar share a grin.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

Luna’s out of breath by the time she gets to Katie’s room.

She really has to go to the gym more.

“Finally,” Katie mutters.

Luna looks around, seeing if anything’s wrong.

Oh god, please tell me she has a good reason for this. She has a good reason. Maybe. Hopefully.

“Are you alright?” The nurse paged me 911.”

“Ha, it took me forever to get her to even pick up the phone. I had to go full Hulk.”

“Wait. So there’s nothing wrong? Nothing medically wrong?”

“I’m bored.” Katie shrugs.

Luna likes to think she’s a nice person. A little absentminded at times, but a nice person nonetheless.

Katie, however, is really testing the whole “do no harm” thing.

“I am not your babysitter. I am not your cruise director. You can’t just page me for anything.”

“Don’t be so overdramatic. My pageant is supposed to be on cable, but it’s like this hospital lives in the ’90s. I can’t find anything. If someone who’s not me gets the crown, I should at least get to see it.”

Luna takes a deep breath. She’s a teenager. You were also stupid as a teenager.

“Okay. This is a hospital. There are sick people here. Go to sleep and stop wasting my time.”

“I can’t sleep, my head’s all full.”

“Those are called thoughts. Run with them.” Luna says in a fit of anger.

She’s been working for almost 24 hours and she just wanted 2 minutes of rest.

But maybe she shouldn’t have snapped at a patient.

But that’s a lesson for another day.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

Luna and Nina are in the ER when they hear a loud voice.

“4B has post-op pneumonia. Let’s get her started on antibiotics, okay?” An intern says to a nurse.

Someone didn’t tell the newbie not to piss off the nurses.

“Are you sure it’s the right diagnosis?”

“Oh gee, I don’t know. I’m only an intern. But here’s an idea. You go and spend 4 years in med school and then talk to me. She’s got shortness of breath and fever. It’s post-op pneumonia. Start antibiotics.” He sneers.

Luna rolls her eyes.

The same guy walks over to her and Nina, “God, I hate nurses. I’m Benicio. I’m with Jeremy. You guys are with the Nazi, right?”

“You know it doesn’t have to be pneumonia, right? It could be splinting. Or she could have aPE.”

He sneers again (does it ever leave his face?), “As I said, I hate nurses.” and walks away.

“Well, he’s an absolute idiot,” Nina says, shooting daggers towards Benicios across the room.

Luna’s about to respond, but her pager beeps again.

“Dammit, Katie.”

This time she walks.

𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅮

#soy luna #soy luna fic #lutteo #soy luna grey's au #simbar #yamiro #gastina #hope you guys enjoy it!

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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years ago

Text

The Other Side

Part One

Genre: KSJ Soulmate au

Warnings: none

Word Count: 8.7k

What is tachycardia?

Tachycardia: abnormally high heart rate

Causes: exercise, stress, anxiety, fear, anger, or love

Ventricular tachycardia: may be life threatening; please see: “soulmate”

Since I could begin to retain information around the age of four, I have been taught one thing over and over again.

Soulmates = mortal danger.

Granted, I wasn't the only one who was taught this. I wasn’t raised in some strange cult or taught that love was discouraged.

No, actually. It’s just a part of life.

Soulmates are commonplace, my own parents being an example of that. The world we live in is riddled with beautiful contradictions, one of the most prominent of all those lovely contradictions being the existence of soulmates.

There is no fancy system put into place, no timer or thread of fate that ties us together. There’s really no way of knowing who or when or where you’ll meet the person that is supposed to complete you and bring joy to your life.

I’m sure there’s some sort of way that fate decides when, seeing as the majority of people meet at a fairly young age. The number of soulmates that meet over the age of fifty are few; although it’s been known to happen a couple of times among senior citizens placed into nursing homes.

Soulmates are the sole reason that most children can pronounce the word “tachycardia” before they reach the age of seven.

Tachycardia typically isn’t fatal, it’s something people tend to experience quite often when the circumstances change. Out on a run? You’re probably experiencing tachycardia. Terrified that there’s a burglar in the house? Yep, tachycardia coming right up.

Have you just stumbled across your soulmate for the first time? Tachycardia in its most extreme form will hit you like a brick wall in just a second.

“Who can tell me what the first response you should have when you see that someone has made contact with their soulmate?”

A flurry of hands fly up to the sky, my own included. The steps are rushing around in my brain, just begging to be let out.

“Haneul?” I’m called on and fight a smile as I answer my instructor’s question.

“First, move one of them to a separate room. Place a door between them if possible, and then call 911 if there are no soulmate assistants available.”

My instructor nods, smiling warmly at me. “Exactly. Now can somebody go through the calming exercises step by step…”

Somebody nudges my side, and I turn to see my friend and fellow applicant, Yuri, smiling at me.

“You’re totally getting in,” she whispers to me.

I roll my eyes. “Just because I answered one question right?”

“He remembered your name...that definitely means something.”

Turning my attention back to the front before we’re caught whispering, I entertain the idea before kicking it out. It’s best to not think about it too much, I can’t look like I’m bored or not paying attention. This is too important a day to give a bad impression. The sigil on the instructor’s shirt only serves as a reminder.

The Bighit entertainment logo stands out like a beacon as the instructor moves about, calling up a couple of applicants to demonstrate how to properly restrain someone without hurting them.

His movements call attention to the yellow circle below the Bighit logo, the color that marks him as a ‘soulmate assistant’. Basically just a fancy word for someone who has to make sure if an idol accidentally meets a soulmate at a concert or any other event, nobody dies.

Everyone goes home happy. Alive, and newly bonded.

And if I get this job, that means I’ll go home happy and paid. That’s all I could ever want, isn’t it?

If we’re being completely honest, being hired on as a professional soulmate assistant for Bighit or any other big agency would be a dream come true for someone like me. I would get to travel, meet new people, all the while receiving a steady paycheck while attending concerts for free.

Sure, it’s a tough job. It requires constant vigilance; a single yawn at the wrong time could mean disaster. Which is part of the reason why my parents thought I was a bit crazy wanting to go into such a profession. They backed off a little once I showed them what kind of money I’d be in for, though.

All of it has led to this moment: going through one final walkthrough before we’re called in for individual interviews and eventually left to leave things up to fate. It’s a pretty big deal to have even made it this far. The actual interview process with the soulmate board of Bighit entertainment is rigorous, eventually leading to a one on one interview with one of the managers of either TXT or BTS.

Our group that started off with just over 200 applicants has been filed down to ten. Tensions are high, Yuri’s near constant fidgeting is a sure sign of that.

Ten remain, but only two will be hired on. One for BTS, and one for TXT.

Not gonna lie, I’m hoping I’m getting interviewed for TXT. I have a hunch that Yeonjun, Beomgyu and I would get along great.

Not that I’m picking favorites.

Our small overview comes to an end, the instructor getting to the part we’ve all been waiting for.

“If you’ll remain here for a few minutes, we’ll be pulling a few of you in for interviews. Remember, if you don’t get interviewed today that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Don’t overthink it too much.”

The instructor leaves the room, and a collective sigh goes throughout our small group. Yuri is bouncing her knee, keeping her eyes planted on the wall in front of her. All I can do is wait, I suppose.

Life is cruel that way. It’s the same way with soulmates. All there is to do is wait. Live life as if you aren’t waiting for that one heartstopping (or rather, heartstarting), moment in which you come face to face with the person fate has decided will love you better than anyone else on earth.

It would be foolish of me to say that everyday for the past four years I haven’t entered my classes on campus or any restaurant holding my breath in hopes that today would be the day. College campuses are a kind of hotspot for soulmate activity; one of my trainings was actually spent just shadowing different classes and waiting for something to happen. It was my first hands-on training, and it only lasted a week.

In a single week I assisted in four different soulmate placings.

And that was in the middle of midterms; when the odds of meeting your soulmate are fairly low because stress levels are high. People are less likely to mingle with different groups of people, if they even bother to look up from their textbooks at all. So needless to say I was always waiting for it to happen.

Always waiting, never experiencing. It’s safe to say that after I graduated both my parents and I were a bit disappointed. While it’s not necessarily uncommon for people to reach college graduation age without a soulmate, it’s also an instant way to get everyone to pity you.

Sure, I wallowed for a while in self-pity. However, once I set my mind on pursuing a career in soulmate assisting within an idol group, I was an unstoppable force. And as for finding my soulmate? I used the possibility of working for Bighit as another way to make my parents feel better about their lack of a son-in-law.

If I get the job, I’ll be traveling the world. The chances of me meeting my soulmate would surely skyrocket.

“Choi Haneul?”

I jerk out of my stupor to see the instructor waving me over. Yuri gives me a light nudge, smiling at me encouragingly as I make my way over to the door with a pounding heart.

Fun fact: many people panic and think they’re experiencing what are referred to as “soulmate spikes” the second they start to feel a spike in their heart rate. 9.9/10 times they’re wrong. One way to tell if you really are experiencing soulmate spikes (the initial spike in heart rate upon seeing your soulmate) is if you’re also experiencing intense tunnel vision.

The instructor gives me a curt nod, refusing to give anything away. He simply escorts me down the hallway and into a room where someone is looking over some papers.

Sejin, manager of BTS.

Maybe he’ll pass me along to TXT if he thinks I’d vibe better with them? No, I think to myself. There’s no way I’m about to undermine myself.

“Choi Haneul?” Sejin asks me, a light smile on his face as he looks up at me. I nod, unsure of whether or not I should even say anything. “Please, take a seat.”

The instructor closes the door behind him as he leaves, and suddenly I’m alone with someone I never realized could be perceived as intimidating.

“It’s very nice to meet you, I’m Sejin.”

I nod, fighting a sarcastic chuckle. Does he actually think I don’t know who he is, or is he just being polite? “I’m Haneul, thank you for having me.”

Sejin smiles again, looking back down at his papers. “Of course. Now, this probably won’t be a very long interview. Your stats speak for themselves.” He waves the paper in the air, and I see my application form as well as my transcripts from college. “I do just have a few questions for you, if that’s alright?”

“Of course.” I put pressure on my legs, reminding myself to keep still.

“Wonderful. First off, how comfortable are you with constantly being in new environments and having to adapt to an idol’s schedule? It’s a rigorous one.”

Chewing on the inside of my cheek I process the question. “I wouldn’t say that I’m very comfortable at all.”

Sejin’s eyes grow wide, but he proceeds. “And why is that?”

“I wouldn’t want to grow comfortable with it. That would draw away my attention from my job, and my job pretty much depends upon me remaining alert at all times. Now, could I adapt to the schedule? Without a doubt.”

Sejin gives a small chuckle, leaning back against his seat. “Huh. Interesting.”

☆

“C’mon, we have to celebrate!” Yuri bounces up and down, practically glowing. “I can’t believe we both got interviewed!”

I smile along with her, still a little giddy. “Yeah, but don’t you think that’s a little premature? It was just an interview, after all. The really important part is if they call you after.”

“Whatever, don’t you want to celebrate with me? I never thought I’d make it past the first week.”

That I can definitely agree with. It’s a competitive field for sure, and the agency does its best to weed out the weak. For good reason, obviously. Nearly half of the applicants the first week in were fangirls hoping they would match up with one of the idols they might work with. And the other half? Those were the ones who quickly realized that they weren’t crazy enough to want a job that required excessive time and effort.

“Alright, where do you want to go?”

Yuri jumps in place making me laugh. Dragging me along behind her, we take the first taxi we can find. The streets of Seoul are filling up now that the evening is coming along. It’s a Friday night; everybody is going to be out and about, celebrating the end of another week.

When we make it to the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant that the two of us have frequented a little too much over the past few months, there’s a fairly large crowd mulling about. We squeeze into a booth after paying for our food, finally able to eat without feeling like I’m going to throw up from the stress.

“Wow, is it just me or does this taste even better now?” Yuri looks up at me with wide eyes and full mouth.

“Is it just me or do you look like a gopher right now?”

If it wasn’t for the piles of food between us I’m sure she would have smacked me. She settles for a quick kick to the shin instead. Hissing at her, she offers me a sweet smile.

“So what’s Sejin like? He’s always seemed like a sweet little teddy bear to me.” Yuri asks before shoving more food into her mouth.

I shrug, thinking back over my interview. The entire thing probably only lasted about 20 minutes, but I think it went well. “He’s nice. Professional, but he honestly wasn’t that grueling. He just said my stats pretty much did all the talking. I think he was just trying to see if I was crazy or not.”

Yuri snorts, nodding along. “Same. Do you think you passed the crazy test?”

“Too soon to tell.”

We delve back into our food, talking more about our interviews. Despite the huge unanswered question hanging between us, did we make it?, the stress from earlier has dissipated. There’s nothing left to do except wait. I feel satisfied with all the work I’ve put in; there’s not a lot more I could’ve done.

It’s the sound of someone’s phone ringing that has us pausing. We look at each other with wide eyes, but there’s no way they’ve already made their decision-

“It’s just my mom,” Yuri sighs out as she brings the phone to her ear. She chats with her mother for a few minutes, reassuring her that everything went well today. I mindlessly push my food around, the sound of Yuri’s ringtone put me on edge for a moment. They definitely won’t call tonight. We just finished!

“What did your mom say?” I ask once she hangs up. Yuri shrugs.

“Just wanted to know if I was interviewed. She said she’s rooting for the both of us, she seemed pretty relieved that we’re not going for the same position.”

That’s right. While I was pulled in for an interview with Sejin, Yuri was pulled in for an interview with TXT’s managers. As far as we’re concerned, we’re now contending for our spots as soulmate assistants to two different groups. And considering that each group is only looking for 1 assistant, it’s pretty competitive. The instructor did say there was a small chance of hiring two per group, just depending on their needs. One of those would only be a part-time assistant though. Definitely not the ideal position.

“Yeah, same here-”

Yuri’s phone lights up again, and this time there is no sigh of relief as she sees who’s calling.

Looking up at me with wide eyes, she looks like she might throw up all the food we just ate. “It’s the agency.”

Gasping aloud, I drop my chopsticks and wave at her to hurry. “Answer it! Quick!” Yuri gives me a terrified look before slowly bringing the phone up to her ear. I chew on my lip as I watch her expression change from terrified to startled.

“R-really? That’s great news!” Yuri bounces up and down in her seat, and I mirror her movement. “Of course! 9am? Sounds perfect...I’ll be there! Thank you so much!”

She drops her phone on the table as she pants. “...so?” I ask her, and she grins up at me.

“I got the job!”

We both scream a little louder than necessary, the people sitting in the both across from us glaring in our direction. “No way! That was so fast!”

She nods, running her hands through her hair. “I know! They just said the decision was easier to make than they expected, seeing as I have the most experience out of the people they interviewed. I’m supposed to head in tomorrow to go over the contract and get to work.”

There’s a little twist of uncertainty in the pit of my stomach as I realize that Yuri was hired within a matter of hours. What does that mean for me?

“That’s amazing, Yuri. I’m so proud of you.”

She shakes her head, unable to stop smiling. “I’ve got to call my mom, should we head out?” I nod, following her out of the restaurant. She’s practically skipping to a taxi, waving it over. I laugh at her behavior.

“I can’t believe it though. Make sure you tell Yeonjun that we’re meant to be best friends.”

Yuri slides into the taxi, and I follow after her. She fixes me with a dazed smile as she gives directions to her apartment. We live in the same complex, so it’s easy to go anywhere with her.

“I’ll be sure to tell him. Who knows, maybe the two of you are soulmates!” Yuri winks at me even as I cringe.

“No way, he’s way too young for me.”

Rolling her eyes, Yuri manages to get one more comment out before her mother answers the phone. “Whatever, you’re only like what? Three years older? Mom! Guess what!”

By the time we make it to our apartments Yuri is still gushing to her mom on the phone. My own parents texted me, I just responded and told them I was interviewed. Their obvious excitement over making the interview fails to buoy me up, though. Not when I’m becoming more and more convinced that I’m not going to be receiving a call tonight.

Perhaps I’ll wake up to a consolation email in the morning, thanking me for my time and sending me on my way.

Yuri invites me over to her apartment to continue in the celebrations, but I opt out of it. She frowns, about to apologize or something but I speak up before she can. I don’t want any apologies; not yet. That makes it seem like it’s really over.

“My parents are begging me to call them and you know how long they can talk for,” I say, backing away. “I’d better go call them now so I can still get to sleep at a decent time. Congrats again, Yuri. You deserve it. Let me know how everything goes tomorrow, ok?”

Yuri nods, still frowning. “You sure you don’t need anything?”

“Nope! I’m all good. Good night!”

I wave before turning and heading up the stairs. Yuri lives on the ground floor whereas I live on the third. It’s a small apartment complex, and it’s pretty quiet most of the time. Tonight though, people are celebrating the weekend, and the sounds delve into my ears until I have to screw my eyes shut and press my hands up to my ears.

Leaning against my door the second I close it behind me, I sigh. The thoughts are too loud in my head right now.

What started off as a hopeful day has effectively crashed and burned right before my eyes.

Peaking one eye open I glare at the big world map I have hanging up in my living room. To anyone else it’s just another lovely piece of artwork. Painted on a thin canvas with vibrant greens, blues and purples it draws the eye and fills people with wanderlust.

For me it represents a dream that is becoming more and more unobtainable.

My best friend from my childhood found her soulmate five years ago. We were freshly graduated from high school, it was perfect. I thought that it was perfect, at least. They were able to finish growing up together, figuring out college and taking time to really fall in love before life became too crazy to hardly eat.

They got married two years ago. It was beautiful and they made it look so easy. They finished up college together and moved to Gwacheon. I haven’t seen her for a year now, we’ve just been naturally growing apart.

She’s always been supportive of me trying to find my soulmate. It’s odd, seeing that I’ve always been the one obsessed with learning about them and preparing for that moment and she’s the one that just happened to stumble upon her soulmate right after she turned 18. But she never made me feel like I was falling behind or at a loss.

Our last phone call reminds me of the entire reason why I bought that gigantic world map in the first place, hanging it where I would see it every time I walked in the door at the end of the day.

“You know Haneul, he’s out there. There’s no question about that.”

“I know...just, where? I’m starting to think that he doesn’t want to be found.”

“That’s not true. And if it is, I’ll personally slug him for you.”

“Thanks, I think?”

“You know what you need to do, Han?”

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”

“Of course I am. You just have to go out there! Get out in the world, get out of Seoul, and go live your life! The second you get out and start living your life will be when everything falls into place for you. I’m certain of it.”

“I’d love to do that, really. But how on earth do I manage that? I need a stable job, I have an apartment to pay for. I can’t just leave everything to go in search of someone I’ve never met and who maybe isn’t ready to be found.”

“It’s up to you. But I know you, and you’re not happy. I can’t imagine it, I’m not going to pretend to understand. We both know I got lucky...but really Haneul. I know it’s scary and there’s a lot that you don’t know the first thing about, but I just think that if you want to move on from this you have to leave the apartment and get out there. And you think he isn’t ready to be found? Nobody ever is. But I can guarantee that the two of you are both ready to be loved.”

It’s been nearly ten months since that phone call, and it’s been nearly ten months since I became friends with Yuri and found out about the agencies beginning their hiring process. It seemed too good to be true, especially once I found out about the heavy schedule filled with nearly nonstop travelling and meeting people.

I always knew there was a reason I went into the soulmates studies. Finally it seemed like the opportunities were appearing that I so desperately needed.

Ten months. Rigorous training and exhausting schedules that sometimes had me wondering if this really was the right path for me.

But every night, sometimes late enough to see the black sky begin to turn to a hazy gray with the promise of dawn approaching before I even had a chance to sleep, I stumbled home and saw that map.

Somewhere. Every night, I’d see it and chant the word to myself. Somewhere. You’re somewhere out there.

It’s worth it, isn’t it?

Slowly standing up from my position against the door, I glare at my phone as I take it from my pocket. No phone call.

Another glance at the map, the beautiful colors and lines mocking me as it tells me that while he may be somewhere, I am still here. And as long as I remain here, where my soulmate is will be a big question mark.

No phone call. No job. No soulmate.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I make my way to my bedroom. Now would probably be a great time to shower, but I’d much rather just lay here on my bed and stare up at the ceiling as I wallow in self-pity.

“Happy Friday night to me.”

☆

I think it’s on the third ring that I wake up from my slumber, still in my clothes from the day before. Groaning out a few incoherent words, I search my blanket for where my phone is ringing incessantly.

“Who…?”

Finally grasping my phone, I hold it up to my squinting eyes. My mouth drops open of its own accord, my heart rate spiking. Clearing my throat, I attempt to sound like I didn’t just wake up as I answer the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello, I’m calling for Choi Haneul?”

My voice gets caught in my throat. “S-speaking.”

“Wonderful. My apologies for calling you so early, I’m manager Sejin, I interviewed you yesterday?”

Straightening out my clothes even though he can’t see them, I nearly scoff at the idea of him having to introduce himself. Like I’d forget.

“Right, no worries. How may I help you?” Slipping into the role of gracious host, I chew on my lip.

Sejin wastes no time getting to the point. “We certainly didn’t expect to come to a decision so quickly, but after reviewing the interviews and applicants, you were a standout Miss Choi. As a representative of Bighit entertainment and manager of BTS, I would like to offer you the position of central soulmate assistant. That is, if you’re still interested.”

I’m practically floating above the floor by the time Sejin finishes speaking. “I- yes! Yes, I would be honored.”

Sejin chuckles lowly. “That’s perfect. Let’s see it’s...6:30 am now? Would you be alright to head in to the company by 9 to go over your contract and meet with the senior soulmate assistant?”

He could have asked me to show up wearing nothing but a garbage bag at 3 in the morning, and I wouldn’t hesitate to say yes.

“Of course, I’ll be there!”

“I’ll send you an email with where to go and further instructions.”

“Thank you!”

Laughing again, Sejin allows me this bit of joy. “Thank you, Miss Choi. I’ll see you shortly.”

I’m nearly panting as I end the call, falling back against my bed and staring up at the ceiling with a mad grin. Then, body bursting with excitement I leap up from the bed and hurdle into the front room.

Hurtling to a stop before my map still hanging on the wall, I call my parents.

☆

“I wonder what it’s liiiiike,” I sing at the top of my lungs as I rummage through my closet for something to wear. Double checking the email from manager Sejin, I decide that it might be best to bring in some backup.

Bringing my phone up to my ear, I wait for Yuri to answer the phone. It’s barely seven in the morning, chances are she’s just getting ready as well.

“Haneul?”

The grin that’s been a permanent resident on my face for the past thirty minutes grows wider. “Yuri! I was wondering, could I carpool with you to the agency?”

It’s silent on the other side while Yuri connects the dots. “What do you mean...wait, shut up! You got it?! You got the job?!”

Yuri screams louder than I did while I was on the phone with my parents, but now I can’t help but scream right back. “YES! I got it! They just called me this morning!”

We’re both a happy mess as Yuri decides to bring her things upstairs to get ready with me. “I already picked out my outfit last night, I’ll just bring it up. Be right there!!” She really doesn’t waste any time, because less than two minutes later I open the door to find a panting Yuri nearly buried beneath her pile of clothes and makeup bags.

“Here, let me take that,” I mutter, laughing as she lets me ease some items of clothing off of her pile. “That was fast.”

“Han!!! I’m so happy for you!” As soon as we dump her stuff on my bed, Yuri pounces on me and begins trying to strangle me like a boa constrictor. “I was so nervous for you, and I didn’t want this to drive us apart. I knew for a fact that you were by far the most qualified, they would’ve been complete idiots to let you go!”

Laughing, I drag the both of us over to the closet. “What are you wearing to this, then? What does ‘casual-nice’ even look like?”

Yuri takes the opportunity to show me her outfit, my jaw dropping as she puts it on and shows it off.

“I was thinking something like this,” Yuri says as she straightens out the sleeves of the sweater she wears beneath the checkered brown dress.

My mouth drops open of its own accord. “Wow.”

Yuri frowns as she goes to look at herself in the mirror. “Is it too much?”

“No,” I shake my head as I delve into my thoughts. “I’m just thinking that you’re going to make everyone in there wish you were their soulmate.”

Cheeks turning a furious red color, Yuri waves off my comment. “Whatever. Let’s find you something to wear.”

In the end I try on four different outfits before settling on one that I think will do the job. It’s certainly more simple than Yuri’s but I find that it’s more functional.

“So pretty,” Yuri coos as she gets ready beside me, the vanity proving to have just enough space for the two of us.

“Me or you?” I question, smirking at her. Yuri grins.

“Both.”

☆

Yuri ends up driving us to the agency, much to my eternal gratitude. Once the time came closer, I began to become more and more nervous. It’s been a long time since I’ve started a new job; I’ve been working at the university for the past four years and only quit about a month ago in order to make room for the rigorous training that was a result of making it to the final round of applicants.

I’m grateful for Yuri’s company as she chatters about how excited she is, it’s keeping my mind off of the nerves that are currently tying themselves into a knot in the pit of my stomach.

“I just really think that the boys seem really genuine, you know?” She says, tapping out the beat to the song playing on the radio on the steering wheel. “From everything that I’ve seen and heard about them, they seem really cool. I’m excited to meet them.”

Shaking my head numbly as we slow to a stop before a red light, I try to remember just how badly I wanted this job. “Yeah, they do. I’m jealous, I wanted TXT!”

Yuri cackles as she glances over at me. “You can’t even complain, you’re probably going to be paid way more than me!”

That much is true. While Yuri will still be traveling a lot and certainly have her hands full with the five members, I’m going to be paid more. With the constant traveling, meetings, and seven total members, my job will be nonstop.

Either way, the moral of the story is this: we’re about to make some major money. But there won’t really ever be enough time to spend it.

That’s not why people become soulmate assistants. Those that go after it for the money are quickly weeded out. A job that requires all of your time and then some is exhausting, and the uncertain element of every situation is enough to drive some people crazy. I’ve heard about how concerts can be nightmares sometimes, especially when the crowd is huge.

Just imagine it: one of the group members makes eye contact with someone for less than a second, and suddenly they’ve got tunnel vision and are trying to jump off the stage into the sea of adoring fans that are all too happy to receive them. Then, somewhere in the crowd of thousands of fans, there’s a poor person who’s freaking out and feeling the symptoms of tachycardia, but guess what? So is everyone in the crowd. Adrenaline is pumping through them all since they’re at their favorite band’s concert.

Long story short, it’s like trying to find a needle in a haystack. The biggest thing is for one of the soulmate assistants to grab the idol before they can abandon all reason and their heart gives out, and the other assistant has to find the fan who’s wildest dream just came true.

It doesn’t happen that often, but it has been known to happen on occasion. The most recent was at a TWICE concert, where Sana happened upon her soulmate in the middle of a set. The video of the soulmate assistant acting in record time to contain the situation went viral and it’s one that I had to watch several times throughout my training.

“You guys have a senior assistant, don’t you?” I ask, wondering at my title as central soulmate assistant.

“Yep,” Yuri starts back up again as the light turns green, checking the clock. We’ve still got plenty of time. “From the email they sent me it sounds like I’ll be a junior assistant for about six months before moving up to senior.”

“So fast?”

Yuri shrugs. “Sounds like the senior assistant is about ready to retire. What’s your title?”

“Central.”

“Oh, so fancy.”

There are typically two different forms of soulmate assistant hierarchy; the junior/senior pattern and then the central system.

Junior/senior system is pretty self-explanatory: the senior assistant has typically worked with the group for a while already, and the junior assistant acts as an apprentice of sorts. Learning the trade and preparing to someday take over the responsibilities of the senior assistant. They work as a team to ensure the safety of the group.

A central assistant is a more in-depth and new system. Essentially, I’ll have eyes and ears everywhere from various staff members, who are constantly updating me on potential soulmates. All of the staff have been educated in the basics of soulmate studies, so they know what to do to subdue the situation if need be.

According to Sejin’s email, I will most likely be the only licensed soulmate assistant on the team. My job is to remain close to the members so I can hopefully be the first on the scene to help and get everything under way.

It’s exciting, but also a lot of pressure. My only hope is that the boys don’t run into their soulmates for a while; I would like to at least get to know everyone before having to get all up in their personal space.

The agency looms before us in the morning sun, looking somehow inviting and dreadful at the same time. Yuri follows what the security tells her at the front, parking in the parking garage before turning the car off.

8:42.

“We’re a bit early, but at least now we’ll be able to find where we’re supposed to go.”

I nod numbly at her words, trying to fight the pounding in my heart.

Side Effect #1: Rapid Pulse Rate

“I’m kind of freaking out.”

“Me too. I’m glad you’re here, though.”

“I’m glad you’re here, too.” I grin at Yuri.

It’s quiet in the car before we build up the courage to get out. Our shoes tap against the ground, filling the silent garage with noise. Once inside, we’re directed by a receptionist toward the offices of Sejin and TXT’s management. They’re on the same floor, so we take the elevator together.

As soon as the doors close, Yuri lets out a squeal. “I’m going to dieeee!”

Laughing giddily at her reaction, I lean up against the wall of the elevator and try my best to control my breathing. “Same. Same. Whoo, I need to breathe.”

Side Effect #2: Shortness of breath

The elevator ride is entirely too short, because before I know it Yuri is dragging me out into the hallway and searching for the office #12. I’m supposed to be looking for #17.

Of course Yuri finds hers first, my friend coming to a stop just before the door, turning to grab my hand with surprising strength.

“Quick, tell me that I’ll be fine,” she hisses.

Gently removing her hand from mine, I give her an encouraging smile. “You’ll do great, and everything will work out just fine, Yuri.”

Rolling her shoulders, she gives me a mock salute before stepping up to the door. “See you later?”

“Good luck.”

I scamper past as she knocks on the door, looking back as she’s ushered in by a middle-aged man who must be the senior soulmate assistant. He wears the tell-tale yellow circle on his shirt, his eyes wide and alert as though always on the lookout.

He must have left an apprentice with TXT; there are always a few mulling about the agency to step in for the main assistants when they need to attend to other things.

#17 is just a few doors down, the door already wide open as I walk up to it. I don’t allow myself to pause and freak out again, because I’m scared that they’ll hear me start screaming out here or something.

Shoving down the nervousness to the corners of my mind, I take a deep breath and tap the open door lightly.

Sejin sits at his desk, talking quietly to someone sitting in the chair before his desk. He looks up at me, smiling politely. The person in the chair before him turns around at the sound of my knock, and I find myself face to face with none other than the leader of BTS.

“Miss Choi, great to see you,” Sejin stands, Namjoon as well as he waves.

I bow, hoping that my face isn’t too red as I look into the office. It looks like it’s just Namjoon. What a relief.

“Thank you for calling me back,” I say, nodding to Namjoon. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Namjoon smiles at me, gesturing for me to take the seat beside him. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Sejin spoke highly of you.”

Shuffling into the office, I give Sejin a surprised look. “That was kind of you.”

“I was only telling the truth. Namjoon helped me make the decision in regards to the position, so don’t just thank me.”

Namjoon gives me a sheepish smile before settling back down in the chair. I follow suit, mumbling out a small ‘thank you’.

Once we’re all settled, Sejin produces a packet and slides it across the table to me, another one to Namjoon, and keeps one for himself.

“Ok, shall we get started?”

Sejin begins explaining the contract, Namjoon listening intently beside me. The fact that Namjoon helped with all of this makes me feel a little better somehow. It makes me feel like I won’t be quite so out of place with BTS.

We’re stuck in his office for nearly an hour just going over the finer details of the job, and by that time I’ve finally come out of my shell enough to form a few intelligent questions.

“How many staff members do you have that went through soulmate training within the past three months?” I ask, leaning back in my chair as I examine the Staff Preparedness section in the contract.

Sejin looks over something on his computer. “Within the past three months? Only two; the rest are within the year. We have them renew the course once a year. Why three months?”

“There was a technique that was completely discredited by Léo Dupont and they just began applying it in soulmate training within the past three months. While it may not seem that important, it can sometimes make a big difference in timing.”

Namjoon looks at me with wide eyes, a hint of respect blooming there. “What was the technique he discredited?”

“The glass door technique. It was believed that if the soulmates could still see each other but refrain from actual physical contact, this would assist in the ‘come down’ from the surge in heart rate.”

“It doesn’t?” Sejin asks.

I shake my head. “No, in fact, recent studies show that it nearly doubled the ‘come down’ time. It also served as a spike in the heart rate, long after it should have returned to a normal range. It nearly killed Jennifer Aniston before someone moved her to a more secure location. Best case scenario is a complete cut-off from view, and engaging in verbal contact rather than physical.”

“That’s good to know,” Sejin mumbles, typing something out on his laptop. “I’ll send out a memo with that information as well as advise staff to renew their training as soon as possible.”

We go over a few more details before Namjoon sits up in his seat. “We’re about done, right? I just got a text from Soobin saying they’re all gathered up and ready to go.”

My heart rate spikes again as I realize that we must be meeting together after this. And from the sounds of it, it’s practically the entire agency.

“Yeah, just about. Do you want to sign, Namjoon, and you can head out?”

Namjoon signs Sejin’s copy of the contract before getting up and heading toward the door. “We’re excited to have you join the team, Miss Choi.”

“Thank you! And you can just call me Haneul, don’t worry about it.”

Namjoon’s dimples make an appearance as he smiles back at me. “Then I’m just Namjoon to you. See you guys in a bit.”

Sejin covers the last few points in the span of ten or so minutes, clearly ready to get going like I am. We finish up going over vacation days when he leans back with a sigh.

“And yeah, I think that’s about it. Any questions? Today you’ll be getting a feel for the schedule and meet the boys and staff you’ll be working closely with, so don’t hesitate to ask them any more questions as they come.”

Palms starting to sweat with the idea of meeting the rest of Bighit shortly, I give a curt shake of the head. “I think I’m good for now.” Ignoring the tightness in my chest, I reach out for the contract.

Side Effect #3: Chest pain

“Wonderful. Just sign here, and I’ll send you a copy of this.”

☆

Sejin and I walk down the hall after being dropped off at the fifth floor. The second the elevator doors opened I could hear the ruckus of two kpop groups in one room.

To my shock Yuri’s voice rings out, followed by a bout of laughter. It would appear that she’s already found her place.

Sejin gives me an encouraging smile as we inch closer to the room at the end of the hall. “You ready? It’s been a pretty big couple of days for you.”

I can’t help but find comfort in Sejin’s attitude. I’m glad he understands the deer in the headlights look I’m probably sporting right now.

I hope my soulmate is like him.

The thought passes through my mind suddenly, making me go blank for a moment. While it’s a true sentiment, I have to focus on making a good impression today so I can find my soulmate another day.

One day at a time, Hanuel.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I respond, offering him a shaky smile in return. Sejin chuckles, and I wonder if he felt the same way early on in his manager days. I wonder if he still occasionally feels that way, now that BTS has grown more than anyone ever expected.

He goes before me, entering the room and already falling into a conversation with someone. I hesitate for a second, my heart pounding so hard that it’s hard to focus. Rolling my neck, I take a step into the room.

“Ah, there she is!” Yuri chirps out, leaving from where she was beside Beomgyu, who was showing her a video on his phone. “You guys took a long time.”

If my heart wasn’t currently trying to leap out of my ribcage, I would come up with something funny to say.

“Haneul is very thorough,” Sejin comments from where he stands beside one of the TXT managers. “Would you like to introduce yourself?”

“Quick,” I hear someone speak up, “Everyone pretend like Sejin didn’t just say her name!”

It was Hueningkai that made the comment. I can tell who it was because the boy in question is currently dodging an elbow to the ribs from Taehyun. Yuri laughs at their behavior before looking back to me expectantly.

“Oh,” my voice sounds a bit croaky. After clearing my throat, I try again. “Hello everyone. I’m Choi Haneul, it’s nice to meet you all.”

The seven members of BTS come up to the front, gathering in a line like it’s second nature. Namjoon gives me a small smile, which I take comfort in.

“Well, you’ve met me already...this is everyone else.”

Taehyung steps forward, giving me a small wave and grinning wide. “Just call me Tae.”

Jimin gives his friend a wide-eyed look. “Isn’t that a bit informal for just meeting?” Tae’s cheeks go a little red.

“Is it?” He asks, and I nearly pass out from the amount of sweetness in the room. “I think we’ll be good friends, so why not just skip the formalities?”

The boys reflect various levels of long-suffering as Jungkook shakes his head while the rest of the room laughs at Tae’s odd manner. “We both know it doesn’t work like that.”

Sejin answers the question I didn’t even know I was thinking. “In case you’re wondering, they’re always like this. Might as well get used to it.”

Yuri giggles at my reddened cheeks, but I brush off the embarrassment enough to look back at the boys. “That’s good to know.” The boys break from their line in order to return to wherever they were lounging about earlier. Once they turn to leave I feel a bit better; my heart calming down. Hopefully, with time, I’ll be able to breathe properly around them.

I remain near the door, unsure as to what to do next. It looks like Sejin and the other managers are preparing to give a debriefing of sorts and everyone is just waiting around for it. Thankfully, Yuri remains beside me.

“How are you holding up?” She asks me quietly. I give her a long look, conveying the depth of my feelings perfectly.

“I can’t calm down. I feel like I’m either going to pass out or going to run the length of Seoul in five minutes flat.”

Side Effect #4: Lightheadedness and/or fainting (syncope)

Yuri snorts. “Now that I’d like to see.”

Taehyung calls out to me, pulling me from my conversation. “You’re from Seoul, Miss Choi?”

I smile warmly at him, already taking a liking to him. He’s one big contradiction: his looks make him appear intimidating, but he has the warmest personality.

“I’m originally from Anyang, actually. But I’ve been in Seoul for the past five years.”

“Oh, we’re neighbors!”

Jin is the one who spoke, and I look to where he stands behind the couch, leaning down to watch something on Jungkook’s phone. His eyes are turned up to me, a hint of excitement at being from neighboring cities evident in his expression.

Less than a second is all it takes.

In the second grade, I learned that within the span of a single second, a bumblebee can beat its wings 200 times.

That fact fascinated my young brain; 200 times in a single second?! Of all the wonders in the world I had discovered and had yet to discover in my life, this was the fact that stayed with me. How could such a small creature accomplish such an improbable feat, all within the confines of the time it takes to blink?

My junior year of high school I learned that the average pair of soulmates begin to experience the initial spike in heart rate that leads to tachycardia within the first 0.002 seconds of eye contact. That means, even if it’s a passing glance, the moment those two sets of eyes make contact, everything is about to change.

As I hold eye contact with Jin across the room, I believe that there is a small part of me that knows I should be thinking about everything I’ve learned about soulmates over the past few years. Where are the steps I used to recite day and night in order to keep them memorized?

Yet, that little 8 year old girl with wonder-filled eyes as she learns about bumblebee’s amazing abilities is the only thing I can come up with. Almost as if she’s in the room with me, looking back and forth between Jin and I with that same expression.

Something clicks for me in that single moment as my heart rate continues to jolt and jump. Something seems to connect between bumblebees and soulmates.

Like a bumblebee’s wings frantically beating to keep itself aloft, my own heart begins to do its best to meet the same pace.

Side Effect #5: Heart palpitations (a racing, uncomfortable or irregular heartbeat or a sensation of "flopping" in the chest)

I’m barely aware of distant voices all around me, a few growing in volume as the truth sinks in. I feel arms trapping my own against my torso, and I gasp for air as breathing becomes more difficult. Frowning, I realize that someone is trying to move me away.

Away?

Jin seems to notice I’m being moved away at the same time I do, because the frozen posture he had is broken as he straightens and lurches forward.

He’s all I can see. It strikes me in that moment that he looks a bit different in real life. Sharper, yet somehow more welcoming. Those eyes, although frantic, have kindness imbued in them. The fingers that are outstretched toward me are a bit crooked, and I can’t help but wonder for a moment if our hands will fit together like everyone always says soulmates do.

Wait, soulmates?

Amidst the pounding in my chest and burning lungs, I suddenly have a moment of clarity. The wiry arms wrapped around my torso must belong to Yuri, and she’s speaking calmly into my ear.

“Count with me, Haneul. 1, 2, 3…”

Opening my mouth and marveling at how dry and scratchy my throat feels, I croak out, “...4…5…”

“What comes next, Han?”

“...6.”

Yuri hums, gently trying to ease me backward. When my body locks up, she tries a new method. Coming around to face me, she keeps a firm grip on my shoulders, and gets up on her tippy toes to look me in the eyes.

“We’ve got to move you to a separate room, Han. You remember, don’t you?”

There’s a small voice in my head that wants to tell her that yes, I do remember. However it’s drowned out by the sound of my heart beating in my ears as it continues to pick up speed. Yuri is instructing the boys to grab Jin as he continues marching toward me on shaky legs. He’s only about three feet away, arms extending toward me while Yuri pins my arms down and shoves.

“Grab him!” Yuri shouts even as I cry out from being shoved away. In a flash I see a couple of different pairs of arms reaching out to Jin, effectively stopping him in his tracks as he struggles against them.

“Please,” Jin says in a surprisingly calm voice even as he pushes against Jungkook and Sejin. “Please, just let me-”

“Han, I know your mind is a jumbled mess right now, but please. Remember that this is a matter of life or death. You want to see him?” Yuri doesn’t wait for my response, which makes sense as I haven’t once looked away from Jin. “Then get out of here. Now.”

Like an electric shock to my senses, I breathe in deep. Still unable to look anywhere other than Jin - his sweater has a loose thread on the collar, I should fix that for him - I do the only thing I can.

Closing my eyes is like swimming through concrete, but gritting my teeth I just manage to do it. The second I break contact with Jin, my body relaxes just enough for Yuri to push against me and shove my unwilling feet out the door.

She has a firm grip on the back of my shoulders still as she shouts out to nobody in particular, “I need a room!”

Someone must answer her, because we abruptly change directions before coming to a stop. I refuse to open my eyes for fear of falling back into the imobile state I was in before, and Yuri still hasn’t given me the clear.

“Yeonjun, grab my bag! Bring it to me.”

The sounds of everyone scampering around are drowned out as I hear Jin’s broken voice calling out once more.

“No, don’t take her. Please don’t take her from me.”

Like a dam of freezing water breaking over my head, my eyes open and I spin around, seeing Jin breaking free of Sejin’s grasp and dragging Jungkook along with him.

Just as my eyes find his once more, the door slams shut.

Part 2

masterlist

taglist: @taylorroe3 @dreamcatcherjiah @thecaffeinatedscribbles @marianeamine

#jin soulmate au #bts soulmate au #Kim Seokjin soulmate au #soulmate au #jin soulmate #jin x oc #bts x oc #jin series #jin fluff #jin angst #bts angst #bts love story #bts love #jin bts #bts jin #jin deserves more #Kim Seokjin fluff #kim seokjin

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blueskrugs · 5 years ago

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Four Times Fate Brought You to Vince Dunn, and One Time You Found Him on Purpose

I wrote this simultaneously with another Vince 4+1 (coming tomorrow, hopefully!) and yelled to @captainpetty and Erin about them constantly. Sorry guys.

length: 3k words

An Accident You met Vince Dunn for the first time in an emergency room in St. Louis. Normally you worked the pediatric floor, and not on the night shift, but sometimes you floated to the general emergency room for an extra shift because, well, money is money.

You liked pediatrics because dealing with kids was far easier than adults, in your opinion, even when parents could sometimes be just as difficult as a screaming toddler. But at least screaming toddlers could be calmed down with the promise of a sticker or a lollipop.

“Hey, can you pick up the new guy that just came in?” one of the other nurses asked as she breezed past you to handle one of her patients. “I think they said something about him being important around here.”

“Being important” meant that, when you pulled the curtain back to face your newest patient, you came face-to-face with a very drunk Vince Dunn and a significantly less drunk Colton Parayko. You simply raised an eyebrow and moved over to the computer to start charting.

“I’m not really sure I want to know what happened here, but I think I have to ask,” you said, trying to ignore the fact that you were pretty sure Vince was whispering to Colton about you.

“Is there any way, like, our training staff-”

“And Petro!”

“God, yeah, and Petro, won’t find out about this? Because I wasn’t supposed to let anything happen to him, and we have a game tomorrow,” Colton finished.

That really didn’t answer your question, and you weren’t sure how anything that brought the two of them into an ER after midnight was going to be easily hidden for a game the next night. You turned then, properly looked at the boys, took in Vince sitting on the bed with his feet swinging above the ground like a child. His shirt was a little wet with what was probably beer, and, when you looked closer, blood. His left hand was wrapped in a bar rag–that you really hoped had been clean when they got it–that was definitely blood-stained.

Colton explained to you, as you started an IV in Vince’s right arm and cleaned the gash in his palm that would definitely need stitches, that they had gone out in spite of their captain telling them it was a bad idea. Vince had had one beer too many and had ended up on a table, then fell off the table, catching his fall on someone’s pint of beer. By the way Vince winced when you moved his hand around to clean it, you were pretty sure his wrist sprained, too.

You hovered a bit as one of the ER doctors came in and checked out Vince’s hand and wrist. Vince was quiet, but you could feel him watching you as you fidgeted around the small room. By the time everything was ready for him to be sent home, he was definitely more sober himself, but that also meant he was lucid enough to be embarrassed about how he ended up in the ER. You watched as Colton led him out of the ER and to a waiting Uber, and you wondered just how the hell they were planning on hiding his hand from everyone the next day.

At a Bar The second time you met Vince Dunn was, somewhat ironically, in a bar. You had seen him as soon as you walked in, laughing with some of his teammates in the corner, but you diligently ignored him as you headed to the bar with your friend to get a drink. Why would he remember some random ER nurse from over a month ago, when he had been drunk? You shook your head, determined to ignore the loud hockey boys in the corner and have a good night yourself.

You had been at the bar almost an hour and had done a pretty good job of ignoring and avoiding the hockey players in the corner. You headed over to the bar for a second drink, when you felt a hand press against your lower back. You tensed, twisting around as much as you could in the crowded bar to see who was behind you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” Vince said, but he didn’t move his hand. He raised his left hand to get the attention of the bartender, and you saw the flash of a still-healing scar on his palm, pink even in the dim light of the bar. “You were that nurse from the ER, yeah? I never thanked you for taking care of my drunk ass that night.” He smiled, then, wide and genuine, hand still warm against the small of your back, and you relaxed a little bit.

You were surprised that he recognized you. You’d heard stories of the younger players on the Blues wheeling multiple girls at once; you vaguely wondered how they kept track of them, much less a nobody nurse he’d met once.

You didn’t say that, though, just smiled back at him as the bartender slid two beers in front of you. You reached into your pocket to pay but Vince grabbed your wrist.

“Nah, this one’s on me. Said I had to thank you, didn’t I?” he told you. You tried not to think about how green his eyes were up close.

You shook yourself again; you didn’t need this. You didn’t need this. Besides, how many more times could you run into Vince Dunn?

In Enemy Territory It was in Pittsburgh, of all places, when you saw Vince Dunn again. One of your brothers had moved out there for work, and you were visiting him for a week, helping out with babysitting his kids, hanging with your sister-in-law. You hadn’t even thought to check the Blues’ schedule; you had no idea they were on a road trip to play the Penguins.

You were standing in line at a Starbucks, your two-year-old nephew balanced on your hip, your sister-in-law still outside with the other kids. You heard the door open behind you, and a loud group came in, but now you were focused on ordering before the toddler you were carrying decided he got bored and threw a tantrum. You were struggling to reach your card one handed when someone else reached past you.

“Add it to ours,” the voice belonging to the arm said. You spun, only to see Colton Parayko looking down at you with a smile. You looked over his shoulder to see several of his teammates shoving each other playfully in line. That would explain the loud group you’d heard come in. Colton was introducing himself to the two year old you were carrying, but you were still watching his teammates. Vince caught your eye from where he was trying to put Jordan Kyrou in a headlock and grinned, immediately letting go of Rouzy. You smiled back, a little caught off guard.

You stepped to the side as you waited. Before long, you were joined by Vince, both of you trying to ignore the catcalls from his other teammates.

“And who’s this little guy?” Vince cooed, actually ignoring you aside from a quick smile. You raised an eyebrow a little bit at his baby-voice.

Your nephew tucked his face into your neck, suddenly shy. “Oh, come on now,” you said to him. “This is Jake, he’s my brother’s youngest,” you explained to Vince. Vince continued to talk to your nephew in that same high, gentle voice, until he was giggling and chattering right back. The barista called your name, and Jake picked that moment to decide he was done being patient and started fussing, very close to crying and screaming. You couldn’t balance two drinks and two sandwiches as well as a fidgeting toddler, and you groaned.

“Here give him to me,” Vince said, reaching out to take him before you could protest. Jake settled immediately, and you glared at him a little. You could hear Vince talking to him more as you scrambled to pick up all of your order. He followed you outside, and you ignored the interested stares of the rest of the guys.

He continued to hold Jake as you handed off your sister-in-law’s half of the order, stood there to chat with her and the other kids, long after Sammy came out with Vince’s drink. He used the same voice he had used to befriend Jake on the other two kids, but he talked and laughed with you and Sarah in the next breath, even teasing her for the Pens shirt she was wearing.

You were doing your best not to think about how that voice was making you melt every time he used it. His teammates eventually dragged him away to get back to the hotel before the game, but not before Vince talked you into exchanging phone numbers.

You tried telling yourself that you were never going to use it.

In a Grocery Store You were pretty sure the universe was laughing at you at this point. Your mom had invited herself over for dinner, and you had nothing in your apartment to cook. Which meant you rushed to a grocery store on your lunch break, and you ended up at a different one than you usually went to because it was closer to work.

Why couldn’t all grocery stores be laid out the same? You were trying very hard to make it look like you weren’t turning in circles as you tried to find everything you were looking for when your phone buzzed. You pulled it out with a huff, fully expecting it to your mom again, but instead the name on your screen read, “Vince Dunn.”

You paused. It had been nearly another month since Pittsburgh, and neither one of you had texted the other one. You were (mostly) perfectly content with leaving it that way, but clearly Vince had other ideas. The screen had gone dark, but it lit up again, reminding you it was there. You read the text, the simple words “you look a little lost.” With that you spun around, and, sure enough, Vince was standing a couple feet behind you, leaning against a shelf with a smirk on his face.

“I don’t have time for this,” you said, turning back around and starting to push your cart in a direction that hopefully ended in pasta.

“Hey, wait,” Vince said, taking a couple annoyingly long steps to catch up to you and put a hand on your cart to stop you. “Lemme help. It’ll be faster. I’ve been watching you walk in circles for like ten minutes.” You blushed as he smirked again, but his eyes were soft.

You wanted so badly to just push past Vince, forget you had ever met him, and then met him again and again, delete his number from your phone, but you also knew he was right; he would probably get you out of this damned grocery store a lot faster than you could probably manage on your own, and maybe you really wanted to spend a little time with him, too.

So you sighed, handed Vince the list you had scribbled on the back of a gas receipt, and let him lead you around the grocery store. He let you rant about your mom, and then about work, only pausing to offer opinions on the food he was putting in your cart. After a while, you realized you had actually managed to get everything on your list, but now Vince was wandering aimlessly around the store, sneaking junk food into your cart. You raised an eyebrow as you watched him slip a package of cookie mix behind the box of pasta. He looked up at you as you leaned on the cart handle, sheepish now that he’d been caught.

“What?I like snickerdoodles,” he said in defense.

You shook your head and pulled the package out of the cart. “I can make better snickerdoodles from scratch, dude.” You looked closer at everything in your cart. “And I don’t like jalapeno Cheetos,” you said, throwing the bag at Vince.

“Is that a promise on the snickerdoodles?” Of course he focused on that.

“I don’t know, maybe. Now go put the damn Cheetos back.”

Vince laughed. You willed yourself to focus on getting out of the store and home to cook dinner, not just kissing Vince in the middle of the baking aisle.

“Don’t knock ‘em until you try ‘em. Thommer’s gotten the whole team addicted at this point,” Vince told you over his shoulder as he went to put the Cheetos back from wherever he found them. You turned around and headed back in what you thought was the direction of checkout. Vince found you again as you stood in line. You had honestly thought the whole Cheetos thing would be the end of this interaction with him, but apparently not.

“Don’t you have your own grocery shopping to do?” you asked, realizing just how much time Vince had spent with you in the store. “Instead of helping some random girl?” you added, allowing the insecurity you were suddenly feeling slip into your voice.

Vince started putting your groceries on the conveyor belt. “Nah, Sammy just wanted some snacks, and he can wait.”

You let Vince load the rest of your stuff onto the belt, you didn’t let him pay–though he fought you on that one for several minutes–and you let him walk with you to your car and put all of your groceries in the trunk.

You were halfway home before you thought to wonder if he actually went back and got snacks for Sammy.

At a Hockey Game When your best friend texted you and asked if you wanted to go to a Blues game with her, you didn’t hesitate to say yes. You had grown up a hockey fan, had found Hannah in high school, and there you two were, years later, still yelling about the Blues over texts and phone calls and in person. Your eagerness had absolutely nothing to do with Vince Dunn.

You also didn’t hesitate to snap a picture of your ticket and send it to Vince after Hannah handed it to you. You didn’t really think he’d see it so close to puck drop, but you still regretted it as soon as the tiny little “sent” appeared underneath the picture.

The game was exciting, and the Blues won, which helped distract you from the anxiety you were feeling over Vince. Mostly. Until he scored a goal, and his eyes swept the sea of blue in Enterprise Center, and, for a split second, you let yourself think he was looking for you.

Until after the game, when you and Hannah were getting up to leave, and an usher appeared next to you, saying your name and telling you to follow her. Getting down below the arena was a blur of people and security, being given neon wristbands and convincing people that, “Yes, I was invited down here by a player, I belong down here,” even if you didn’t really believe that second part was true.

You both hovered awkwardly in the doorway to the room where all of the WAGs and kids were waiting, and suddenly you regretted wearing your Parayko jersey just a little bit. You were thankful to have your friend next to you, though, and you explained the whole grocery store thing to her while you waited. You were starting to debate leaving, telling everyone that, yeah, actually, letting you down into the tunnels was a mistake, that you have no business being there, when you’re wrapped up in a hug suddenly, and there’s Vince, freshly-showered and back in his suit– and this is new, but it’s nice and you let yourself relax into the hug.

Vince pulled back, and he was smiling at you and introducing himself to Hannah, and Colton was standing behind him with a matching smile. You remembered the 55 sprawled across your back, and you knew Colton saw it, but then he was wrapping his arm around your shoulder and didn’t say anything about it.

You weren’t so lucky with Vince. “I’ve gotta get you a new jersey,” he said. You just rolled your eyes and shrugged.

“I’ll sign that one for you,” Colton whispered.

Vince and Colton started arguing over that, and you were starting to think that this is something you could get used to, since this was apparently your new normal, when Alex Pietrangelo comes over to your little group, and you were reminded a little just how not normal this was for you.

“Is this the nurse Dunner won’t shut up about?” Petro asked Colton, who nodded over your head. “You really freaked him out when you texted him before the game,” Petro was talking again, this time to you. “We thought he was gonna go out into the stands to find you himself.”

You laughed, more at the bright blush that was spreading over Vince’s cheeks. “What happened to ‘Petro can’t find out about this?’” you asked.

“That went out the window pretty fast,” Colton told you.

“And I don’t know how you ever thought you could hide eight stitches in your hand and a sprained wrist from me,” Petro added.

“You should have heard him after we saw you in Pittsburgh. He kept looking for you at the game that night, too.”

You smiled up at Vince, who was blushing all the way up his ears now, but he just wrapped his arm around your shoulders and buried his face in your hair. Yeah, you could definitely get used to that. You elbowed him in the ribs a little bit, but his arm just tightened around your shoulders.

He and Colton walked you and Hannah back to your car outside the arena, Colton chirping Vince relentlessly the whole way.

Vince grabbed your hand before you could get in your car. “I’ll text you, yeah?” He looked unsure, which was probably the first time you’d ever seen him nervous around you. “Sammy won’t stop asking me when you’re baking us cookies.”

“I don’t remember saying anything about baking Sammy Blais cookies,” you laughed. “Text me when your next day off is, and we’ll see about those cookies.” And then, because apparently you couldn’t stop doing impulsive things tonight, you pushed up on your toes to kiss Vince on the cheek before climbing into the car.

Your phone vibrated in your cupholder less than five minutes later, and you knew without checking that it was Vince.

#cait writes things #vince dunn #vince dunn fic #vince dunn imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine

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