#alright time for the body which shouldn’t be that hard. gloves and skates are the next big challenge

[tacit-semantics]

Alas poor hedgehog I knew him etc etc

[captainaikus]

TEACHING THE TOMAN BOYS TO SKATEBOARD

Mikey, Draken and Baji

Tags : crude language and mentions of blood

Pairings : Mikey x reader, Draken x reader and Baji x reader (Baji's is fem!reader indicated)

They are in their third year

Here's part 2!

Mikey :

"Ne (Y/N) chan... let me ride that" mikey said as he pointed at your skateboard. "Do you know how to skate?" you asked as you looked from his pointed finger towards his face. "No" he responded as his eyes didn't look away from the skateboard beneath your feet. "Mikey... you could get hurt since you don't know how to use the board" you said in a calm and assuring tone. "But I still wanna try it" he half yelled in a childish manner as he turned his face away from you in an angry pout.

Thinking about it while placing your chin in your hand, what was the worse that could happen? You knew if he broke your board he would buy you a new one, but he was careful with your things to make sure that they remained in an intact condition.

After giving it some thought, you decided to let him ride your skateboard.

“Alright, but before we start” you said as you grabbed his hands, “we need to get you a helmet, kneepads, elbow pads and maybe gloves?”

“You’re so cute (Y/N) chan. But I don’t think I would be needing any of those… I know what it feels like to be hurt. I am a part of a gang after all” he said as he let go of your hands and pick up the skateboard. Using his foot, he kicked the ground and pushed the skateboard. You were mesmerized watching him skate. He didn’t seem to be a novice. Perfect balance, position and he also seemed to be having a decent speed. As he approached the rail, he was able to grind on it with the board. Sure, it wasn’t perfect… but it still surprised you to see how he was able to pull it off. You had seen a fair share of people failing at their sixth and seventh attempts or more while trying to pull off the grind rail.

“Leave your mouth open and you might catch flies in them (Y/N) chan” you heard a teasing remark come near you ear.

“How did you learn to do that” you said as you turned around to face Mikey.

“A leader never shares his secrets” he said as he placed a finger on his lips and smiled at you.

Bonus : Mikey likes sitting on the skateboard while moving it back and forth on the wheels. He also tells you or Draken to push it from behind. He has fallen asleep on/with your board several times when you both laid against the grass and stared into the sky, hearing the revving up of bike engines at a distance.

Draken :

“Oi. Why did you call me?” Draken asked in a loud voice as you flipped the skateboard with your foot. “Kenchin!” you said in surprise as you turned around to see the tall man behind you. “Don’t call me that!” he said as he titled his head in anger “Why’d you call me out here (Y/N)?”

“I thought we could skate? but if you don’t want to… we could do something else…” you mumbled as you pushed your skateboard back and forth with one foot. Draken noticed your softened eyes as you stared at the skateboard deep in thought. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have called him. He runs a gang for fucks sake. He doesn’t have time to put with your antics’. Your thoughts came to a halt as you saw a hand pick up the head of your skateboard.

“Yaruze” he said in a monotonous tone as he placed the skateboard under his foot. Grabbing the extra helmet, you brought with you, you shoved it into his hands.

“Hai hai. But before that we need to make sure that you’re secured and don’t have any injuries. Have you skated before?” you asked as you reached high to place the helmet on his head. He held you by your forearms and smirked down at you.

“I work in a gang woman. I know what it is like to get hurt” he said. He got on top of the skateboard and stood still, looking at you for further instruction.

“Okay… so… uh” you said shakily as you pointed towards the ground “put one foot on the ground and keep the other one on the board”

Draken put his left foot on the ground and kept his right foot on the board. “Now… use the foot on the ground to push the board”

Draken did as you told and pushed himself using his left foot while making sure to steady his weight on the board.

“Okay… now place your foot back on the board and relax your shoulders” you said as you jogged alongside him. He had wide strides as he skated. He had also picked up a fair speed which wasn’t bad for a beginner. “Yata!” Draken said with a smile as he continued to do as you told. You smiled and laughed beside him as you continued to run.

“Alright. I’m gonna do the hop” he said as he got ready to jump with the skateboard.

“Kenchin dame!”

Bonus :

You glared at Draken as you picked up your broken skateboard. He looked away in embarrassment as his cheeks turned pink.

The next day, you found a (f/c) skateboard wrapped in (f/c) ribbon on your seat.

“Evening 6:30. Don’t you dare be late” the note said in a scribbled handwriting. Chuckling you placed it folded into your pocket.

Baji

“Why the hell are we here?” Baji said as he looked at you with half lidded eyes.

“To skate Kei” you said with a laugh as you held your skateboard close to your ribs.

“I got that but why?” he said as he said as he titled his head and gave your skateboard a questioning look.

“Cause it’s fun?” you said in an inquisitive tone.

“Not for me. A skateboard can’t give me the adrenaline a bike gives. Neither can it give me the thrill of being hit back” he said in a monotonous tone.

“Not everything violent has to give you satisfaction Keisuke. Riding a bike needs fuel and an engine. The only thing you’re in control of is the handle, speed and balance. Skateboarding is different. You just have your feet and your body to do the math” you said as you held out your skateboard. “Why don’t you try it and see for yourself?” you asked with a small smile. He looked down at the skateboard in your hands before taking it into his, using his index finger to toy with the wheel. He looked at you with a bored expression.

“If you want it to be that thrilling, then don’t wear a helmet. I’m sure the ground can hit you as hard as any other opponent” you challenged him with a smirk.

“I’ll make sure you eat those damn words (Y/N)” he said as he tied his silky black hair into a ponytail and put the skateboard on the ground. Keisuke was not new to the concept of skating. He had seen them in playgrounds, may have grabbed one of them and used it as a weapon… it was complicated. He didn’t have a particular fascination with them as he merely viewed them as a child’s toy.

“Okay keisuke. Have you skated before?” you asked as you were ready to give him a set of instructions.

“Nah” he said as he kicked the skateboard, dragging it back with his foot.

“Alright. Keep one foot on the ground and the other on the board” you said while pointing at his feet and the ground, “whichever foot you’re comfortable with pushing goes on the ground”.

He did as you told.

“Now push” you said as he lifted his left leg and began to push.

“Okay… uh. Rest your shoulders and place one foot at the back of the board” you said as you ran by side. Unknowingly, Keisuke put the skate to stop by leaning too much of his weight towards the end of the skateboard and fell on his palms facing forward. You rushed towards him to make sure he was okay. Squatting beside him on the ground, you took one of his hands into yours and winced at the sight of broken skin and blood.

“Kuso” he smirked as he stared down at his palm.

“Told ya. You didn’t have the best start at this, but you did try" you said as he glared at you from the corner of his eye.

"Tell you what, meet me tomorrow at 9:00pm here” you said as you got up from the ground.

“For what?” Keisuke sneered as he looked up at you.

“You’ll see” you said as you gave him a peck on the cheek and got on your skateboard, heading towards your home.

“What in the world was she talking about…” he said as he walked off.

Keisuke waited for you at the designated spot.

“What the fuck is taking her so long” he said as he stared into the dark sky. “Kei!” he heard at a distance as you waved under the streetlight. You didn’t have your skateboard with you. You had a black one and it seemed to be old… but refurbished.

“(Y/N). You kept me waiting for 20 minutes. Now quit screwing around and show me what you got” he said as he glowered down at you.

“Calm down Kei” you said with a chuckle at his impatience as you set the skateboard down on the ground.

“Stand back” you said as stood a good amount of feet away from the rail. Keisuke gave you space by moving behind.

.

.

His eyes widened as you railed your skateboard and created sparks on the concrete brick.

“Wha-” he said as he stared you held the head of the skateboard and walked towards him.

“Had this customized and before you ask, yes. I can create fires too” you said as you smirked.

“Get better at skateboarding and maybe I’ll be willing to give you this” you said as you raised the skateboard.

“Koiyo”.

Bonus :

“Can you-”

“No keisuke. You can’t use knives to customize your skateboard” you said as you took a sip of juice.

“How about-”

“No”.

Notes :

Yaruze : Let's do it

Dame : Means Don't, no

kuso : Fuck/ shit (it's varying to be honest)

koiyo : Bring it on!

[jaskicr]

sequel to the clothes swap featuring buffskier i wrote for this ask:

for buffskier, for some reason jaskier has to wear geralt’s armour (this is like @spielzeugkaiser’s art) and geralt realises that his armour fits jaskier extremely well. and also jaskier can lift his (rather heavy) sword and can also fight with it

As Geralt follows Jaskier back to the village, he hangs back, and if he’s doing it for the glorious view in front of him, that’s no one’s business but his. 

Those tight leather trousers really bring out Jaskier’s considerable assets, hugging Jaskier’s thighs and ass and highlighting every flex of muscle as he walks. Clearly, walking beside Roach for hours every day has done wonders for Jaskier’s legs, and Geralt stares, unable to tear his eyes away, gulping as he takes in the strength of those thighs, wondering how hard they would be able to squeeze -

Suddenly, the thighs stop moving, and Jaskier’s amused voice reaches his ears. “Geralt, are you alright? You seem rather… preoccupied.”

Geralt jerks his gaze upwards to meet Jaskier’s twinkling blue eyes. “Uh?”

Then he realises that his mouth is hanging wide open, possibly about to drool, and he quickly snaps it shut, looking away. He really needs a dip into a river later. Preferably a very cold river. 

“You good?” Jaskier asks, turning around and stepping towards him, and for a moment, Geralt mourns the loss of that wonderful view of his behind, until he’s faced with Jaskier’s chest, made broader by the bulk of Geralt’s armour.

“Hm. Yes. Um.” Geralt struggles valiantly to keep his eyes on Jaskier’s face. “Let’s. Keep going?”

“If you’re sure.” Jaskier's lips are tilted in a smirk, unfairly red lips that Geralt wants to punch. With his mouth. Fuck, what is he thinking? “Do you want to walk next to me, or do you want to follow, ah, behind?”

Geralt grunts. Jaskier has totally picked up on his not-so-subtle staring, and Geralt speeds up to walk next to Jaskier, determined not to get caught out again, and Jaskier huffs a low laugh that sends pleasant shivers up Geralt’s spine. He resolutely ignores the warmth radiating from Jaskier’s bulk as they walk side by side, Jaskier silent for once as they trace their steps back to the village.

Without the distraction of Jaskier’s chatter, Geralt’s mind wanders once again. He recalls Jaskier cutting down the nekkers with expert ease, wielding Geralt’s sword like it’s an extension of himself, swinging the sword through the air with a savage grin on his face. Gods, Jaskier’s strength and unexpected skill with a sword - Geralt used to think that Jaskier was a bumbling bard who relied wholly on Geralt to protect him, who had little strength to speak of, but the past few hours had proved him so utterly wrong.

And he has never been more glad to be wrong. Jaskier’s strength and competence with a sword is an absolutely delightful revelation.

When they reach the village, Jaskier’s stance changes, his shoulders going back and his head tilting upwards, his face schooling into a stoic mask as he falls back into the part of a witcher, and it shouldn’t be as hot as Geralt finds it. Geralt follows him as he stalks into the tavern - no, he struts, hips swaying just so, bringing Geralt’s attention, once again, to his shapely ass. He struts like he wants to conquer the world, like he’s challenging anyone to stand up to him, projecting an aura of danger that Geralt is inexplicably attracted to.

He looks away, cheeks burning. Yes, he’s only just realised that Jaskier has a rather - fine physique, but that doesn’t give Geralt the right to - to ogle him. Jaskier has always been attractive, and Geralt has always admired him - objectively, of course - and there’s no reason that this new development should fluster Geralt as much as it does.

Not that he’s flustered. He has more composure than that. He’s simply shocked, that’s all. All these years of travelling with Jaskier and he hadn’t noticed - he’s simply ashamed of his own lack of observational skills, nothing more. 

His denial sounds flimsy even to himself.

Once Jaskier has collected the payment, they fetch Roach and head out of the village, a silent consensus between them to travel a good distance from it before they change back, during which Geralt tries to contain his thoughts and wrestle them back into appropriate best friend territory.

Because Jaskier is his best friend, and he definitely doesn’t look at Geralt like that, and Geralt shouldn’t be looking at Jaskier like that.

“We’re far enough,” Geralt grunts, pulling Roach to a halt. They’ve travelled a fair distance from the village, far enough that no one should be following them, and they’re obscured by the trees if anyone does pass by. “We should. Change.”

He dismounts Roach and finds himself face to face with Jaskier, who’s standing right in front of him, arms crossed, and Geralt may be a witcher, but even his immense self control can’t stop him from sneaking a glance at the way Jaskier’s crossed arms emphasise the thickness of his biceps, pushing his chest up. 

“You know, Geralt,” Jaskier begins, eyes trailing over Geralt’s face before dipping lower, and when he continues, his voice is raspy. “I couldn’t help but notice you looking at me… quite a lot today.”

Jaskier’s gaze burns through Geralt’s body, lighting him up, and he looks away. “Hm.”

“Oh, don’t hm me, my dear bard.” A gloved finger presses against Geralt’s cheek, forcing his face back to look straight at Jaskier. “Did you think I didn’t notice? You weren’t exactly subtle.” 

There’s laughter in his voice, and something else too, something that Geralt has heard Jaskier use before, but never directed at him. He swallows audibly, and Jaskier’s gaze drops to his throat for a second before flicking back up, blue eyes bright and piercing.

“I -” Geralt’s voice is hoarse, and he clears his throat. “I wasn’t.”

“Oh, you totally were,” Jaskier murmurs with a slow grin. He takes a step closer to Geralt, the movement slow and deliberate. “If I’d known wearing your armour would get you to look at me like this, I would’ve suggested swapping clothes long ago.”

“Like… like what?” Geralt’s heart pounds loudly in his ears, and Jaskier is too close and not close enough.

“Like you want to eat me alive,” Jaskier murmurs, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, and Geralt stares. “Like you want to take your armour off me, piece by piece.”

Geralt’s mouth opens and closes, but only a faint, strangled noise comes out, and Jaskier’s face breaks into a pleased grin.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he purrs, and then he’s pressed against Geralt, all that bulk and muscle fitted under Geralt’s black armour, all that warmth right there. “Do go ahead.”

Geralt is frozen, his mind barely processing Jaskier’s invitation, and when he doesn’t move, Jaskier sighs fondly and cups his cheek with a gloved hand.

“Tell me if I’m reading this wrong,” he murmurs, searching Geralt’s eyes. When Geralt lets out something akin to a strangled whine, Jaskier’s proximity turning his brain to mush and making his head spin, Jaskier chuckles and leans in.

The kiss starts slow and tender, Jaskier’s lips slightly chapped as he presses his mouth to Geralt’s. Then Geralt’s brain catches up to what’s happening, realising that Jaskier is kissing him, that Jaskier is pressed against him and cupping his face with gentle hands, and Geralt deepens the kiss, placing his hands on that broad chest.

When Jaskier pulls away, breathing quick and shallow, his eyes are dark, his lips swollen. “You like seeing me in your armour, huh?” 

Geralt more than likes it. Maybe he should just let Jaskier wear his clothes all the time, which would make their travels far more interesting, and far more torturous on Geralt’s end.

“I like you,” he blurts out, and flushes at the too-honest words.

Jaskier’s eyes widen, and Geralt is about to retract his statement when Jaskier beams, delight spreading across his face, and he leans in again, pressing a soft kiss to the edge of Geralt’s mouth. “I like you too, sweetheart,” he whispers, breath hot against Geralt’s skin, and Geralt shudders. “I like you a lot.”

“Mmf.” His face is burning. “You - uh. I. You look good.” Apparently, Geralt’s brain has lost its filter, but when Jaskier’s gaze turns smouldering, he can’t really complain.

“Good, huh? Care to tell me more?”

“You look good in my clothes.” Geralt’s mouth is running, his thoughts spilling from his lips in an uncontrollable flood, unable to hold back his words under Jaskier’s heated gaze. “I like how my clothes fit you, I like how you fight -”

Jaskier crowds him back until his back hits a tree, trapping him between the tree and the solid bulk of Jaskier’s body, and then Jaskier is pressing him against the tree trunk and Geralt is gasping into the fierce, passionate kiss.

He lets his hands roam around Jaskier’s body, mapping the breadth of his chest and shoulders, relishing in the feeling of leather under his fingertips, and Jaskier presses impossibly closer, one hand bracing himself against the tree and the other dropping to rest on Geralt’s waist, sending a brand of heat through his body.

But it’s not enough, and Geralt finds himself tugging at the straps of his armour, desperate to get it off Jaskier, desperate to see, and Jaskier breaks the kiss with a raspy laugh.

“Eager, aren’t we?”

Geralt only tugs more insistently, throwing a piece of the armour off to the side. There’s something enticing about taking his armour off piece by piece when it’s on Jaskier, and his hands shake slightly as he undoes the straps. Jaskier starts nosing at his neck, and he almost goes pliant, but his determination to see Jaskier bare in front of him keeps his hands from dropping, and finally, the last piece of armour falls away, and Geralt drinks in the magnificent sight.

Jaskier’s shoulders are wonderfully broad, and Geralt skates his hands over warm skin, marvelling at the strength in them. He slips his hands down, tangling his fingers in the dark hair that decorates Jaskier’s chest, hair that Geralt has only seen glimpses of through unbuttoned shirts, hair that Geralt now tugs at appreciatively. 

“Mm, like what you see?” Jaskier rumbles lowly, and Geralt doesn’t answer, showing his appreciation by pulling Jaskier into another kiss as he wraps his arms around Jaskier, hands roaming his large, muscled back.

Suddenly, Jaskier’s hands are underneath his thighs and Geralt is being lifted, his back still pressed against the tree, and he yelps, wrapping his legs instinctively around Jaskier’s waist, arms gripping tighter around Jaskier’s neck as his body lights up in arousal.

Holy fuck.

“What -”

Jaskier swallows his exclamation, and Geralt whimpers. He’s never been lifted before, certainly not with such ease, and there’s barely any strain in Jaskier’s breathing as he continues holding Geralt up, never breaking the kiss.

Gods, Jaskier is strong, and it’s utterly thrilling.

Geralt lets his gaze trail downwards, appreciating the way Jaskier’s thick biceps bulge and flex as he bears Geralt’s weight easily, and he gives in to the urge to palm at Jaskier’s arms, trusting Jaskier not to drop him as he lets one hand fall from its grip around Jaskier to squeeze one strong bicep, enjoying the feeling of the muscles underneath his palm.

“My darling witcher,” Jaskier murmurs against Geralt’s lips. “As much as I like where this is going, perhaps we should move somewhere more comfortable.”

A rush of heat floods Geralt’s body, and he meets Jaskier’s eyes, fixed on him with something like hunger, and Geralt inhales sharply. 

He can’t wait to be devoured.

[sadsentinel]

i had to really throw down with my writer’s block to get this done but here it is (i hope it isn’t terrible!) ice skating with vergil! :’)

I’d never been ice skating before. Truth be told, I wasn’t nervous. I was excited.

A light dusting of snow had coated the ground, and the clouds overhead looked ready to burst any second now. With any luck, by the time we headed home, there would be plenty of snowfall to watch through the window, with a mug of hot cocoa in hand.

I smiled, eager to get started. Vergil didn’t seem quite as happy to be here as I was. He hadn’t cared much to go with me, but I’d insisted. I can’t go by myself, I’d said. That would just be weird.

He hadn’t understood why, but he knew it was important to me, so he’d relented. In his heavy, navy blue coat, he strode beside me, casting a hard glance over the ice rink. His icy stare was even colder than the air around us; the commanding look in his eyes sent a rush of adrenaline through my system each time we looked at each other.

He took my hand in his, giving it a tight squeeze. He didn’t show it on the outside, but he didn’t like crowds, and the rink was packed today. It looked like the last day of good skating weather before the holidays. I offered him a reassuring smile. His gaze softened for a moment, but as soon as he looked back towards the ice, that harsh veneer was back in place. He looked as stone cold as ever. But that was only a façade; at least to me. He was distant and impersonal to the rest of the world, but for me, he was less reserved. To me, he was kind.

“I can’t say I understand why you wanted to do this.” We crunched through the snow until we found an unoccupied bench. We sat down, luckily away from the bulk of the crowd, and began to lace our skates. I gave him a playful nudge.

“Because it’s fun. Don’t you ever want to get in the spirit of the season?” As soon as I said the words, I knew his answer.

“I don’t particularly care much for the holidays.” He tied his laces in a tight knot, then with grace, stood and held out a hand for me. “But you enjoy it. So here I am.” The gravel of his voice, along with the tenuous sentiment he’d offered, warmed my heart. These moments with him were rare, but they were becoming more common. It had been hard for him to admit he cared about me, and even harder to admit it to himself. But once he had, everything had fallen into place.

I smiled in thanks and accepted his gloved hand, getting to my feet uncertainly. I stumbled, but quick as a flash, his other hand was around my arm to steady me. He searched my wide eyes for some sign that I was alright. He might’ve been stoic towards everyone else, but there was a subtle science to the way we communicated. It was wordless, innate. I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

He led me onto the ice, where I lost my balance and nearly fell immediately. In an instant, his hands were wrapped around my waist to steady me. He held us both perfectly, with unnatural grace and ease.

“Are you sure you’ve never been skating before?” I leaned into his chest and held on tight. I was not interested in slipping and crashing into the ice. He kept his arm firmly around my waist and began leading me around the edge of the rink.

“Never.”

“How are you so good at it?” The dexterity with which he glided was inhuman. I held on for dear life, knowing I’d fall without him.

“Suppose I’m naturally talented.” The faint hint of a smile appeared on his lips, but was gone as soon as it had appeared. I’d learned to pay close attention to him, otherwise I would miss those rare expressions of happiness.

Out of nowhere, Vergil spun me into an elegant twirl. Despite my lack of skill, the maneuver felt effortless on my part. As he pulled me close again, his hands found their place around my waist, steadying me.

He had a habit of making things feel uncomplicated, easy. Like I was walking on air, while he did the burdensome parts with a stalwart deftness. And it was so easy for him. He was strong, and had been since I’d met him. Everything he did had an unwavering resoluteness to it. I was positive there was nothing he couldn’t do.

He glided across the ice, holding me close against him. Even now, he did all the work. I was simply along for the ride. Grateful to be this close, overjoyed that fate had led the two of us together this way.

I leaned my head into his chest and shut my eyes. This was perfect; exactly what I’d wanted. Every moment with him had been just like this. Quiet, but a soothing kind of quiet. It was… tranquil.

“I’m happy you decided to come with me,” I whispered.

“The honor is mine,” he responded, his voice as soft as velvet. It wasn’t often he showed this side of himself, even to me. The gentle, compassionate side. More often than not, I got the I’d-go-to-hell-and-back-for-you side. For him, that was an average day. But the sentiment still counted in my eyes.

We swayed together along the ice until I finally began to grow tired. He could do this all day, I was sure; it was barely an exercise for him. But after several near tumbles, my legs felt like jelly and I wanted to go home.

I looked up at the thick grey clouds overhead. They’d grown even darker, and nearly blocked all the sun’s rays. A light flurry of snow had begun to fall. That thinned the crowd considerably; anyone with any sense would be going home to drink hot chocolate and put their PJs on. And right about now, that sounded excellent.

“Maybe we should—” I lost my balance and collided with the ground that time. Vergil had managed to catch me every other time, but I’d finally smacked into the ice. Really, it had been inevitable, and I knew that.

But I didn’t expect it to hurt this much.

“Are you hurt?” He was kneeling beside me in an instant, concern glazing over his eyes. I’d never seen him look afraid before, but as he searched my eyes, I saw a brief terror in his.

“I’m okay… I think.” He helped me to my feet and held me steady while I regained my balance. The moment he let go, I stumbled again. His arms were around me with blistering speed. “Okay, maybe not. Ow.” I glanced down at my ankle. It looked fine, but it didn’t feel fine. I leaned into him for support and he led me to the edge of the ice as carefully as he could manage. He helped me onto a bench and kneeled to inspect my ankle.

I grimaced as he gently unlaced my skate and pulled it off. His hands were nimble, his fingers tender against my skin. Despite my pain, I felt better at his touch.

“It’s sprained,” he said simply. He met my eyes, his icy gaze gone. Instead, he gazed up at me with soft, pale eyes.

“Great.” I sighed. He tilted his head slightly and took my hand in his.

“I’ll care for you.” I knew he would, but the clemency in his face when he looked at me…

He helped me put my boots back on before scooping me into his arms. I let loose a yelp of surprise, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“I can still walk, you know. A little. Maybe.”

“You shouldn’t.” His eyes were trained straight ahead as he walked, his lithe, muscular arms tight around my body.

I shut my eyes, for just a moment, and then we were home. He led me to our bedroom and helped me change into more comfortable clothing—his eyes lingering a moment longer than necessary—before helping me back to the couch, where he spread a thick blanket over me.

He spared the barest hint of a smile and walked over to the small fireplace across the room. After a moment, a blazing fire filled the hearth, heating the room quickly. The prickling cold melted away from my bones and I pulled the blanket over my shoulders.

“I’ll… leave you to rest.” Vergil glanced at me and began to turn, but I stopped him.

“Wait.” I reached one hand out for him and he was by my side in an instant, kneeling next to me with my hand wrapped firmly in both of his. “Stay with me,” I whispered. He hesitated for a moment before removing his heavy coat and tossing it aside. I moved over to allow him some room and he climbed underneath the blanket with me. Right away, I felt ten degrees warmer.

I laid my head on his chest and threw my arm over his side.

“I love you,” I whispered. He ran his fingers through my hair, then down along my back.

“I love you too.”

[allsassnoclass]

falling (on the ice) for you

Ficmas Day 11

Pairing: Alex Gaskarth/Jack Barakat

Rating: Teen and Up

Key Tag(s): Ice skating, established relationship

Word Count: 1,383

Read on AO3

—

Alex and Jack go ice skating at the pond by the farm.

—

"Alex!" Jack yells, voice followed by the slam of their back door.  "Where are you?"

"Living room!" Alex calls back.  He hears Jack tramping towards him in his clunky boots, which means that he's tracking snow all through the house.  Alex will not be the one cleaning that up.

"It's time," Jack says as soon as he appears in the doorway.  He has a scarf around his neck and one of his warmer beanies stuffed on his head, but his cheeks are still flushed from the cold, eyes shining with excitement.  It simultaneously makes Alex want to cuddle him and join in whatever adventure he’s pursuing.

"For what?"

"Ice skating!"

Alex perks up.

"The ice is thick enough?"

"I just checked," Jack says.  "It's been cold enough for the past few days, and even if it cracks neither of us will go under.  The puddle only comes up to our waists."

"It's a pond, Jack."  Jack makes a face.

"It's a puddle."

Alex is fighting a losing argument, even if the body of water on the edge of the farm's property line is technically a pond by the city's standards.  Jack thinks that ponds should be a little bit bigger.  Alex thinks that puddles shouldn't be deeper than his knees and full of wildlife.

"Are we really doing this?" he asks.

"We bought the skates," Jack says.  "You keep telling me not to buy useless stuff.  If we can't swim in the puddle, we might as well try to skate on it.  Better to fall on our assses here where no little kids can laugh at us.  Come on!"

Jack gets his snowy boots on the carpet and grabs Alex's hands, hauling him off the couch and tugging him towards where they keep the coats.

"God, can you wait five minutes?" Alex laughs.  "I have to get our skates first."

"I can--"

"You're not tracking snow upstairs."

Jack looks down at his boots, then the watery trail he left in his wake.

"Oops."

The path to the pond is not a path at all, but rather a small trench in the snow formed by Jack's footprints from his frequent checks.  He says he doesn't like being out in the cold, but he loves making laps of the property every day, checking on the animals and stretching his legs, often bringing Alex along for scenic walks, holding hands the entire time with the excuse that if Jack slips and falls he wants Alex to catch him.

The pond has been cleared of snow, revealing a sheet of ice smaller than a hockey rink.  A few small trees line the far bank, dead plants peeking up through the ice around the edges.

"Are we going to have to sit in the snow to put on our skates?" Alex asks.

Jack stops in his tracks.

"I didn't think that far ahead."

In the end they try really hard not to, holding on to each other's shoulders one of the trees across the pond to keep themselves upright while they switch from boots to skates, taking off gloves to lace them up tightly.  The first steps onto the ice are wobbly and unsure, but they keep their arms around each other and manage to stay steady.

Skating on a pond is different than on a rink, although Alex hasn't gone skating in general in years.  Ponds are bumpy with no zamboni to prepare the ice, and there's no wall for them to hug, making them fully reliant on each other to stay up.

They're doing alright so far.  Alex isn't sure how long that's going to last.

"Fuck yeah," Jack says once they set up a rhythm, beginning to glide around the pond.  "We're pros at this.  Everyone in the NHL should watch out."

"Jack Barakat, pro hockey player," Alex muses.  "It has a nice ring to it."

"I'm quitting the band to pursue my true dream," Jack says, detangling himself from Alex and skating around on his own.

"Hey, don't do that," Alex says.  "Who will be my muse?  My greatest inspiration?"

"I can still do that as a hockey player," Jack says, turning.  He wobbles a bit, but windmills his arms and manages to regain his balance instead of go down.

"What about your stage presence?  Someone else needs to make comments on occasion.  No one wants to listen to me sing and talk for an entire show."

Jack hums.  Alex skates over to him.

"You have a point," he says.  "The fans would miss me."

"It's all about the fans," Alex says, tugging gently on the scarf wrapped haphazardly around him, pulling Jack closer.  He smiles and leans forward for a kiss, Alex's eyes flickering shut to meet him in the middle.  Suddenly Alex's feet are sliding out from under him, pushing him forward and knocking Jack off-balance, flinging them both to the ground with a yell.

"Ow," Jack groans under him.  "What did you do that for?"

"It wasn't on purpose," Alex says, rolling off of him.  "I think your skate knocked mine."

The ice is freezing, his jeans doing nothing to keep out the chill and his gloves barely protecting him when he tries to push himself up and get his feet under him again.

"Fuck, why is this so hard?" Jack asks, attempting to stand and making it almost halfway to upright before slipping again.

"The little kids would definitely be laughing at us if they could see," Alex says, giving up and sitting on the ice instead, content to watch Jack struggle then make him give him a hand to get up once he makes it.  Jack's feet fly out from under him again and he has to stifle a snort.  Jack flips him off, scooting closer and bracing a hand on Alex's shoulder.

"Hold still," he says, then uses Alex's shoulder and his head to steady him on the way up.  His success deserves a cheer, so Alex gives him one, which Jack accepts by throwing his arms up in victory.

"Hey, help me now," Alex says, reaching out.

"Don't make me fucking fall again," Jack says.  They almost overbalance, but eventually both of them are standing on their own feet.  Alex links their arms.

They make a few more laps, then Jack tries to figure out how to skate backwards.  That ends with him on the ice instead of his skates again, and when Alex tries to help him he falls, too.

The fifth time they both end up on their butts, they call it quits.  Alex isn't sure if he can feel his legs anymore from the cold, and the rest of his body isn't doing too great, either.  He crawls over to where they left their boots and relishes in the feeling of being steady on his feet again.

"Hot shower when we get inside?" Jack asks once they begin their walk back.  "We can share.  It'll warm you right up."

"I was thinking hot chocolate and a blanket, but your idea is better," Alex says.  Jack whoops.

"We're going skating again tomorrow," he says.  Alex looks at him incredulously.

"Dude, my ass is going to be so sore.  Don't give me that look, I'm being serious.  I need time to recover."

"But then I'll never be a pro hockey player!"

"Good," Alex says.  "I thought we already decided that you're staying in the band."

"Ah, yes, for the fans."

"It has nothing to do with your love of music nor your love of me."

"Absolutely nothing," Jack agrees.  The house comes into view, promising warmth and a reprieve from the ice.  Alex quickens his pace, pulling Jack along with him.

"Someone's eager," Jack says.

"Shut up, asshole.  I'm really fucking cold."

"I'll keep you warm, baby."

Alex rolls his eyes, because Jack is not as effective as a change of clothes and sitting in front of the fire will be, but he smiles, too, because Jack makes him feel warm inside all the time.  That warmth flares up inside him when Jack suggests they race to the house, growing stronger when they start running without letting go of each other's hands.

Freezing his butt off ice skating is worth it if he gets to keep feeling that warmth inside for the rest of his life.

[thought-42]

Clone Wars Fic Day Three

Today in the pointless modern au: Obi-Wan goes skating! And then he goes to a hospital! A fun Friday night for everyone. (also listen sometimes Easter falls in March) Part One 

Part Two

Obi-Wan goes to the Starbucks team building mandatory fun skating night with full intentions of being present just long enough to cement his willing and enthusiastic participation. He can think of minimally six better things to be doing with his time on a Friday night, and he's only going because their manager had overheard Quinlan mocking the whole production and Obi-Wan had been caught in the fallout.

"Don't worry," Quin says, yanking the laces on his rented skates tight with a grunt, "I'll catch you if you fall."

"I'm perfectly capable of skating, thank you," Obi-Wan says primly. He's brought a pair of skates that he'd found in Qui-Gon's storage room, and wishing fervently that he had just spent the money to rent. The skates are stiff and rusted and slightly too small.

"Hey, I have actually been skating in the past six years and I'm not confident in my ability to stay on my feet," Quin says. "I'm just saying, there's no shame in falling."

Obi-Wan stares at him. Quin sighs. "Ok, there's a little shame. This is what I get for trying to be a supportive friend."

Obi-Wan gets out on the ice with only a slight wobble, and he and Quin take to one of the trails leading away from the main rink to attempt to distance themselves from the rest of their coworkers, all of whom have clearly pregamed with no thought to the consequences.

There are fairy lights strung up in the trees, and aggressively upbeat pop music being piped in from somewhere. Obi-Wan focuses on keeping himself poised and steady, only swerving to avoid the occasional small child. He hasn't skated since he was a teenager, and it doesn't so much come back to him as he watches the people around him, emulates what they do, and doesn't fall down.

"Probably," Quin puffs out from ahead of him, "this is supposed to be romantic or charming or peaceful."

Obi-Wan, who can already feel his feet aching and is currently passing through a swarm of yelling children and their equally loud parents, says "You simply have no appreciation for the subtler, more sophisticated pleasures in life."

They make it down the trail, back up, across the rink, through smalltalk with the other staff, and to the edge of the rink before Obi-Wan's luck and/or skill fail him. An elderly man steps out onto the ice and teeters alarmingly, one arm flailing out to keep his balance. Obi-Wan's hands go forward to help and his head jerks back to avoid the waving limbs and suddenly he's staring up at the night sky and gasping for breath and his ankle is twisted up under his body in a way that shouldn't be physically possible. He uses the snowbank along the edge of the rink to haul himself first to kneeling, then, cautiously, to standing. Nothing feels particularly stabbed, so he thinks it's safe to say that he managed not to land directly on his blade. His ankle, on the other hand, stabs a bolt of pain up through his whole leg so sharp that he feels his stomach lurch. He stumbles onto the snow, and then over to a bench, swearing mentally because there are really just an unnecessary number of children about.

"Shit," Quin says, clearly less concerned with strangers' disapproval. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," Obi-Wan says. "But I think that's quite enough skating for one night."

"Yeah," Quin says. "I'll get our boots. I needed to head out anyway."

"Thank you," Obi-Wan says, uncharacteristically willing to accept the unnecessary kindness. He undoes his skates and pokes gingerly at his ankle. The pain when he touches it is white hot and sharp, but nothing looks blatantly out of place, which is better than he was expecting.

Quin drops his boots and guards in front of him, already wearing his own, skates obviously returned. "Are you sure you're ok?"

"Yes," Obi-Wan says, waving him off.

Quin looks unconvinced, but at Obi-Wan's reassuring smile he relaxes. "Ok. Well, I'm off to get fucked up with some old ladies for Easter Bingo, wish me luck."

Obi-Wan stares. "I'm really not sure *what* to wish you for this occasion."

Quin winces. "Yeah, I honestly have no idea what I'm walking in to, but I've been assured there'll be sherry and at least one other person under seventy. And how could I possibly refuse an offer like that?"

Obi-Wan chuckles. "Please do feel free to send updates as your evening progresses."

He waits until Quin is gone to stand up, just in case, and is glad he did when he has to catch himself on the back of the bench, shifting all his weight onto his uninjured ankle quickly.

"Well," he says under his breath. "This is inconvenient." He forces himself away from the rink, glad as he gets further away from the lights and crowd as he staggers along, swearing no longer kept inside his head. The footpath to the parking lot is slippery, and he almost falls again. Once he's gotten across the parking lot it's only a block to the bus stop. Practically nothing. Walking it off is probably the best thing he can do, anyway.

He's almost through the parking lot when he slips and has to catch himself on the back of someone's truck. Headlights flare in the dark behind him, and he hears a group of people coming up from the path, jovial and loud. He braces himself for his next step, sucking in air between his teeth.

"Obi-Wan?"

He freezes. It's not anyone he works with, but the voice is still definitely familiar.

"Obi-Wan! I wasn't sure if it was you, sorry. Were you skating?"

It's Rex's brother Cody standing behind him, all bundled up in a sensible parka and gloves, bright green hat tucked down over his ears and skates slung over his shoulder. He looks unforgivably happy.

"Yes, hello, I was," Obi-Wan says. His own skates are jammed awkwardly into his backpack along with his tablet and travel mug and three books and a bag of clementines he keeps forgetting to take out, and the weight is doing his balance no favours. He attempts to straighten up and has to bite down hard on his lip to stifle a gasp of pain. Even the brief moment of stillness has somehow made moving newly painful.

"Are you alright?" Cody asks, sharply.

"Fine, yes, just had a bit of a fall on the ice," Obi-Wan says, projecting gentle self-effacing amusement as hard as he can. "A bit of a sore ankle I've been walking off."

Cody frowns. "That seems like the exact opposite of what you should be doing with a hurt ankle. Can I help you to your car, at least?"

Obi-Wan waves him off, and forces himself to stand up straight. "I'm just going to the bus stop down the way," he says. "It's very close, I'm quite alright."

"I can drive you to whatever clinic you're going to," Cody says.

"That's very kind, but I'm quite alright. A good night's sleep and I'm sure it won't even hurt." He means to illustrate this by walking calmly away, but instead he stumbles over a chunk of ice that's fallen off the nearby truck and in catching his balance puts all his weight down hard on the offending ankle. The edges of his vision go hazy for a moment, and suddenly Cody is there, arm going around him to support his weight and steady him.

"Yeah, you definitely seem fine," he says. "If you don't want me to drive you, is there someone I can call? Qui-Gon?"

"Good God, absolutely not," Obi-Wan says, aghast. "I really am fine, just a bit of a stumble--"

"Oy! Codes, what're you doing over there? It's bloody cold out here!" a young voice shouts from across the parking lot.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure you're suffering," Cody calls back. "Listen, Boba, can you get a ride with dad? I've just met up with a friend and I'm going to give him a lift."

"That's fine," another voice joins in. "I'd be happy to drive forty-five minutes out of my way, thanks for volunteering me, son, you were always my favourite. Don't mind me, just a tired old man..."

"Cheers," Cody says, sunnily, and begins hustling obi-wan down the row of cars to a tiny Prius.

"Truly, there's no need for a clinic," Obi-Wan says, half falling into the car.

"mmhm," says Cody, texting intently with one finger. It's possibly more painful than the ankle having to watch his slow progress.

The phone vibrates a few seconds later, and Cody nods. "Kix says you should get a doctor to take a look."

"Fucking pardon me?"

Cody shrugs, tosses his phone in the cup holder, and starts the car.

*

They get stuck waiting a good two hours before anyone will see Obi-Wan, but he takes a few Tylenol and pulls out his tablet when it becomes clear Cody doesn't plan on forcing smalltalk.

About an hour in to their wait, his phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out, hoping for ridiculous photos from Quin, but it's Anakin's name that graces his lock screen.

'did you seriously break your ankle'

"Really?!" Obi-Wan hisses, then types back

'It's not broken, Anakin. Sprained, at the most. How did you find out?'

'Rex told me', Anakin says, and then, 'don't worry I texted qui-gon'.

'You absolutely did not.', obi-Wan responds, a pit opening up in his stomach. Before Anakin responds, a different thread pops up on his screen. It's Tahl, this time.

'Obi-Wan! Which clinic are you at? Have you been seen yet?'

Furious, Obi-Wan types back. 'I AM FINE, DO NOT BLOODY COME TO THE Clinic I ASSURE YOU I AM AN ADULT.' He sends it in capslock because he knows she's at a library fundraiser dinner and will be using her braille display to text under the table instead of the screenreader on her phone, so the full effect of his rage will be appropriately communicated.

beside him, Cody says "You're not secretly on the run from your family, right?"

"Excuse me?"

"Rex may have... gotten ahead of himself in sharing information."

"I'm already aware," Obi-Wan sighs. "If Qui-Gon's wife skips out on work to come sit in a chair beside me in a waiting room I'll never hear the end of it, but no, I have no serious problem with them knowing. And calling them my family may be a bit of a stretch."

"I'm just going to let that one pass," Cody says, briskly. Obi-Wan's name gets called, finally, and Cody stands to offer support before Obi-Wan can stop him. Deciding his dignity will take a harder hit if he has to stumble his way across the room, he accepts Cody's assistance. The nurse doesn't seem interested in offering her own help, nor does she seem concerned that Cody is accompanying Obi-Wan into the exam room.

Obi-Wan scrambles, undignified, onto the bed, paper crinkling under him. Cody glances around uncertainly, shifts towards the door, then shakes his head, straightens his back, and sits down in one of the two extra chairs in the corner. Obi-Wan thinks perhaps it would be rude to ask him to leave, and there's no particular reason to do so. Perhaps it will even be helpful if Cody hears from a medical professional that he hasn't fucking broken his ankle.

*

"It's a hairline fracture," the doctor says. Cody arches an eyebrow. Obi-Wan glares. "Keep weight off of it for a few days, then slowly start increasing use. Nothing intense for the next two months, and if you even suspect the pain is getting worse or something doesn't feel right, come back right away. This isn't serious, but it could be if you don't take care of it right."

Cody's eyebrow, unencumbered by the laws of physics, gets higher. Obi-Wan is going to break his face and nobody will believe him when he explains that it was justified.

Humiliatingly, the doctor gives the proscription and care instructions to Cody.

Back in Cody's car, Cody says "We can drop this off at the pharmacy and pick up a few ice packs while we're there."

"Oh, no, no, you don't need to worry about-- what makes you think I don't have icepacks? Or at least ice. Frozen vegetables. I am an adult, contrary to what everyone this evening seems to think."

Cody pulls out of the parking stall and clicks the dial to connect his phone to the car's bluetooth. "Well, do you?"

Obi-Wan glares. "There's plenty of snow and ice built up on my balcony, and I have a plastic bag full of plastic bags like any respectable human."

"what's your address?" Cody says.

Obi-Wan says, "I'm fine, honestly--"

Cody coasts to a stop at a red light and types out a text so quickly Obi-Wan wonders for a moment if he'd imagined it. "Never mind, I'm asking Anakin," Cody says. Obi-Wan slumps in his seat.

[averagedoctor]

I loveeeee your writing 🥰Can you do an 11th doctor x reader where he decides to take her ice skating and whilst he’s paying attention to I dunno the ponds (I love them 😂) it cracks and she falls though you can choose the ending -

Thank you!! So sorry for the wait on this, I hope you’re okay with gender neutral pronouns!

11th doctor x reader (+ Ponds)

Pronouns: gender neutral

Word count: 2,329

TWs: drowning

Tagging: @evyiione

Summary: A nice day at the local frozen lake turns out to be not as nice as expected…

A/N: Not edited because I’m lazy :’)

Cracks

The wind nipped at your face as you tightened the skates around your ankles. For once the four of you were all on Earth, present time. It had been a hassle to convince him to not travel, but you were all able to win him over. Amy had the perfect idea to visit a nearby lake that had frozen enough to skate over the winter. It was such a well known spot that they even placed a fenced along the side for people to grab onto as they started off. You glanced up as Amy laughed, her red hair billowing out behind her. Rory stood to the side, a small smirk on his face as he watched her try and lace up the Doctor’s skates. He claimed he had gone skating before, but that he just couldn’t get them tight enough. You could see even from your spot further down the bench that he was blushing, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked helpless.

“There you go.” Amy clapped his shoulder with a playful grin, lending a hand to help him stand. You awkwardly trudged over to the trio, skates dragging on the hard ground.

“Guess you’re all bark and no bite, huh?” You teased, nudging him in the arm.

“Oi! It’s been a while.” He shot back, wobbling.

“Hmmm.” You hummed, raising your eyebrows at Amy, who shook her head with a smile.

“Alright, let’s get onto the ice, everyone.” Rory called, collecting the merry band of friends as they paraded onto the ice. Amy and Rory grasped hands as they stepped onto the ice, a little shaky, but otherwise doing fine together. They wobbled with one another, managing to somehow keep their balance.

The Doctor stepped out carefully, grasping the fence with white knuckles. You filed in line behind him. It always took awhile for you to warm up first and you figured the Doctor also wouldn’t mind someone at his side as he got used to it.

“You’ll be fine.” You assured him, moving slowly behind him. He only nodded his head. Your gloves brushed the fence, barely, as you continued on. Your body was itching to start going faster, but you couldn’t just leave the Doctor. Meanwhile, Amy and Rory continued to whizz by, lapping the two of you many times over. Every so often they called out in jest, to which the Doctor replied with some facial expression of disgust. You could tell that he wanted to be able to skate without fear. “Come on.” You sighed and grabbed his hand with one of your gloved ones. Easing him away from his crutch, the two of you began to skate and ever so slowly started to make a  lap. After a couple, he was much happier than he had been and started to let go of your hand. You felt a burst of pride in your chest at that.

“You did it!” Amy yelled, switching to skate in line with you. She maneuvered over to the Doctor, dropping Rory’s hand.

“Finally, Doctor! We told you it would be fun.” Rory smiled, his feet seamlessly weaving in and out on the ice.

“Yes, yes, I know.” The Doctor said, dismissing the words with a flick of his hand. “You needed to let me get used to it!” He exclaimed, linking his arm with Amy’s.

“Oh, you’ve sealed your fate now, Doctor.” Amy’s eyes sparkled with glee as she nodded her head to Rory, who moved between you and the Doctor, to link up with his other arm.

“It’s go time.” He confirmed, and with that, the three of them began to charge off into a quick skate. The Doctor’s legs fumbled beneath him as he struggled to keep up with the sudden pace change.

“Oi! No! Y/N, save me!” He called out, trying to twist his head around to see you. You simply laughed and waved, skating away from them.

As Amy and Rory continued to mess with the Doctor, you took the opportunity to skate a bit farther than the spot you had stuck to. Out there, the ice looked so smooth compared to the chunky roughness of it from use where everyone else was congregated. There was a chance that it could be a bit thin, but it had been cold for forever so you figured it was safe enough. Besides, it’s not like you by yourself could do any real damage.

Immediately as you skated over you could feel the texture change with each passing inch. Soon, bumpiness gave way to pure levelness. Never had you felt anything so heavenly beneath your skates. The blades glided easily over the ice and before you knew it you were making laps in the crisp and clean section. The Doctor and Ponds continued to banter behind you and soon their talk faded from your mind, giving away to straight bliss. In fact, you were so lost in your head that you couldn’t feel or hear the cracks beneath your feet. Instead, you stared into the sky and then closed your eyes, letting yourself drift, figuratively and literally. Even when the ice started to dip and shift, you took no heed. It finally gave out with a not-so-resounding crack, sending you plunging down into the deathly cold water. Your breath left your lungs as you struggled to get your bearings, the water sticking your skin with needles from how cold it was. You weren’t safe even with all the layers surrounding your body, even more so with your face. Your eyes struggled to see clearly and you kicked uselessly, the weight of your skates and wet clothes dragging you further and further away from the surface. Air bubbles trickled up from your lips as your eyes fluttered. The cold was penetrating every part of you, making it hard to even think. Your limbs moved as if stuck in slow motion and you willed them to move to no avail. Your arms weakly pushed the water as your legs felt like dead weight, dumbly kicking water beneath you with the strength of a fly. You could only hope that someone noticed your fall as you drifted further down and steadily ran out of air, your lungs bursting out of your chest.

A large crash sounded throughout the impromptu skating rink and the Doctor was immediately on high alert. Heads whipped around, looking for the source. Rory let out a shout, noticing the hole in the ice where you were. Their skates all clambered over, panic creasing their faces.

“Y/N!” The Doctor yelled, his skates skidding as he slowed to a stop so he wouldn’t fall in.

“Doctor, what do we do?” Amy cried out, pushing her hair aggressively out of her face. His hands rose to his temples, gripping fistfuls of his hair.

“I’ll go in.”

“No, Doctor! That water is way too cold for anybody to survive for long, even someone not human like you!” Rory pleaded, gesturing towards the hole.

“EXACTLY” The Doctor bellowed in rage, already stripping off his jacket and shoes.

“Please!” He begged again but Amy just pulled him back.

“Let him go, just let him go.” She muttered to him, eyes darting back and forth from the dark water to the Doctor as he prepared to dive in. “Come back.” She choked out, clutching Rory’s shoulder. The Doctor simply nodded grimly, stepping over to the edge of the ice.

Nothing could have prepared him for the bitter cold that shocked his body and he tried to push his hair away from his eyes, to no avail. He kicked down, head swiveling to try and glimpse your body. He saw a glint of your coat as you sunk slowly to the bottom. With ferocity, he kicked his way over to your body. Your head hung limp on your neck, hair swirling around your face. He grunted, air bubbles escaping him as he wrapped his arms around you, struggling to tug your body. The cold was invading him, making his fingers stuck and brain lethargic. His hearts attempted to pump blood through his body as he slowly moved you. Looking up, the surface quivered before his eyes, sun shining weakly onto him. It was so close and yet so far as he tried and tried again to pull your body along with him. With one last push of exertion, he surged towards the surface, and reached it.

His head broke first, gasping for air, hair slick against his forehead. Amy shrieked in the distance as her and Rory carefully hurried over, helping pull you and the Doctor out of the water. Amy helped him into his jacket and shoes, rubbing her hands up and down his arms in a futile move to bring heat into him. Rory hesitated by your body, his fingers hovering by your neck before he bit the bullet and searched for your pulse.

It wasn’t there.

“G-guys…” He stuttered, tears welling in his eyes. He didn’t finish his sentence and instead shook his head, tearing open your once puffy but now drenched jacket and started CPR. He opened your mouth, placed his hands, and counted the beats out, praying that your heart would restart itself. He knew that he shouldn’t put on too much force in fear of breaking ribs but you had to live. You had to. Amy and the Doctor huddled around, Amy’s hand covering her mouth as she cried. The Doctor shivered in his soaked outfit, the tears dripping down his face feeling like they were getting stuck on his cool skin. Finally, you coughed.

Rory jumped to tilt your head, stroking your back as you got the water out of your lungs. It rushed out and burned you in a way you never wanted to feel again. Your body felt cold but burning at the same time and you couldn’t focus on anything. The water hurt your throat and your mind was foggy of all that had transpired. You slumped back onto the ice when your coughing fit passed, breathing heavily.

“Oh thank god.” Rory said with a relieved sigh, his head collapsing into his hands. Amy ran to his side as the Doctor ran to yours. He held you in a strong embrace and your arms weakly found their way around his back. His cold seeped into your cold but you hardly noticed at this point. The trio slowly helped you up to your feet and you wobbled with each step you took, yet refused to be carried by anyone. Your skates clunked along on the ice, making things more complicated, but despite drowning and being brought back, you were too stubborn to stop until you got to the TARDIS.

Once inside at last, you slumped onto the floor. Her heaters kicked on full blast for the two of you and Rory ushered the Doctor away to change. Amy set about helping you to your room, got you new clothes, heaps of blankets, and ordered you away to the bathroom. Though still shaky, you turned the shower on, stripped, and sighed as the feeling finally started to come back into your body. You were beyond exhausted, and reasonably so, and you wanted nothing more than to collapse into your bed.

A few hours later, you got your wish and were covered in a pile of blankets with Amy sat on the edge of your body. The Doctor and Rory trailed in, both looking bedraggled but the Doctor was now at least in better shape.

“Thank you.” You croaked out, throat and voice hoarse from all the water that had gotten into your lungs and then been expelled. Both men blushed despite themselves and joined Amy by sitting on your bed.

“Next time, we’ll go to a rink inside.” Amy joked lightheartedly, patting your knee.

“Yeah.” You coughed with a weak smile.

“That was close today,” Rory said slowly, “we’re not sure how long you were under for. If you start noticing any strange feelings or things happening to you, you have to notify us immediately. If you sustained brain damage, we need to try and take care of it as best that we can.” Despite the serious words, he smiled encouragingly at you. You nodded in acknowledgement of his words.

“We almost lost you. We did lose you for a minute there. I don’t know what I– what we– would have done if that happened. We couldn’t bear to lose you, Y/N.” The Doctor said sadly, taking your hand and rubbing it gently.

“I know.” Tears slipped down your face and Amy brushed them away. “Let’s not repeat it in the future then, right?” You let out a small chuckle, immediately regretting it as your chest ached soon after. They all nodded their heads in approval, sympathy creasing their eyes.

“We’ll let you get some sleep now.” Amy said, rising from the bed. “Don’t worry, we’ll check back in.” She winked, walking over and taking Rory’s hand. You said one last genuine thank you to Rory and were left with the Doctor as they exited the room.

“You jumped in to get me.” You said quietly, looking down.

“I had to.” He reached for both your hands this time, squeezing them. “I don’t know what I would have done with myself if I lost you. You’re priceless to me and to the Ponds as well. I couldn’t stand the thought…” He trailed off, unable to stop himself from visibly choking up.

“Oh, Doctor…” You sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck, holding him tight despite the aches. “What have I done to deserve a friend like you?” You murmured softly before letting go.

“You’ve existed.” He answered plainly with a smile. “Now, you really should get some sleep.” He stood but gave you one more hug, unable to resist himself.

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“Of course.” He nodded, straightened his bow tie, and closed the door as you fell into a dreamless, much needed, sleep.

[missinghmmingbird]

Don’t Let Go, Okay?

Steven and Connie go ice skating. They aren't great at it, but that isn't so bad, right?

Words: 2439

Note: Basically cute, Connverse fluff. You can also find this on Ao3 under my username MissytheAngle. The link is in my description! 

“So have you ever gone ice skating before?”

Steven turned his attention away from the window to Connie, whose hands were clasped in her lap.

“Only a little bit,” he said with a shrug. “I might have gone once or twice when dad took me to the ice rink in Charm City. It was pretty cool—and not just because it’s an ice rink.” He proudly grinned at his own joke.

Connie let out a burst of soft laughter. “That’s good. I haven’t gone all that much, either. My dad tried to take me before, but I never got the hang of it. I’m a little nervous to try again.” She gave him a weak smile as she leaned back against the van seat.

“Hey, that’s okay. Maybe I can help you out. It’ll be fun, I promise!” Steven said, throwing his arms out.

Connie’s smile grew. “That’d be great, Steven!” She glanced at her feet, kicking against her seat, then back up and over to the front seat. “How much further, Mr. Universe?”

“We’re almost there, actually!” Greg called from the front. He tossed out a quick thumbs up. He tilted his head forward. “Charm City was always a nice place. Pretty quiet, too. We really should visit more often.”

Both Connie and Steven peered through their windows. The van breezed along the road, passing only a few cars drove on such a quiet day. Snow blanketed the sidewalk, but the flurry they drove through on the way had vanished by the time they got into the city. They passed by a fast food place, McQueen, and at least two coffee shops before arriving at their destination: the Ice Box, neighboring a one-floor mall. A collection of cars were parked in the lot in front of the indoor rink.

Inside, Greg paid for Steven and Connie’s admission, who secured the paper bands around their wrists.

“Aren’t you going skating, too, Mr. Universe?” Connie asked.

“As fun as that might be, I think I’ll be sitting on the sidelines today. Let’s get you two some skates.” He jabbed a thumb toward the adjoining counter that read “RENT SKATES.”

Once they approached the counter, the man behind it asked for their shoe sizes. He handed them the appropriate-sized ice skates, and Steven and Connie exchanged excited grins.

Greg trailed behind them as they sprinted through the doors that led to the ice rink.

The ice rink itself had a big crowd. Since it was one of the few rinks in Charm City—and also the one nearest to Beach City—they weren’t too surprised. Nonetheless, the three of them found a good spot to sit down and store their things.

As Steven and Connie replaced their boots with the skates, Connie glanced back into the ice rink, where various types of people skated across. Some kids had training bars to help them skate around without falling.

When a couple breezed atop the glistening ice while holding hands, Connie felt a blush rise to her cheeks. Her focus faltered, and she struggled to stand straight before they actually walked onto the ice.

“Ready?” Steven asked with infectious enthusiasm that she wished she could feel.

“You bet,” Connie said through a forced smile.

She started off slow, gripping the edge as she stepped onto the ice. Professional skaters made it look so easy, when in reality, sliding on thin blades was no walk in the park.

Still, it could have been worse. She moved a few feet forward, staring down at her feet. Unfortunately, her hands slipped away from the edge, and Connie found herself stumbling forward. Her legs wobbled, and her body tilted forward. Teeth gritted, she kept thinking, Oh, come on, don’t fall don’t fall don’t fall!

“How’re you doing?” Steven asked once he skated to her side.

She straightened her posture. They were both able to skate side by side. It made her feel a little bit more at ease.

“It’s okay,” she responded. “It’s not that bad, actually. How about you?”

“Heh, it’s okay. It’s not easy.”

They made a turn around. Steven began to fall forward in a less than graceful manner. Connie leaned over and reached out. She managed to catch him by the arms, giggling under her breath, which frosted over in the air. “I can see that. I’m amazed those professional skaters can do all those crazy tricks! I doubt I could ever do all those jumps and spins.”

“They probably practiced a lot,” Steven pointed out. “Maybe you can do all that someday.”

Connie’s face felt warmer. “Heh, maybe.”

Steven pushed himself forward, while Connie stood alone for a few moments. With a loud sigh, she thought about clinging to the edge again. But no, she had to at least try! Her eyes followed Steven, how despite his clumsy movement, he seemed to be doing alright. There was no stress across any part of his face.

Her fingers were already feeling cold. Maybe she should’ve brought gloves. And she accidentally forgot her hat in the car! It matched with Steven’s scarf, too.

Her eyes lingered on the skaters, watching the way they moved across the ice. She pushed forward, kicking her feet back, slow and with one foot at a time. A few feet off, Steven looked over his shoulder. Their eyes met.

Steven’s face brightened. He looked ecstatic. “You’re doing great!” He gave her a thumbs up.

Connie blushed again and waved.  

Her foot slipped backward. She gasped when she realized what was happening.

“Whoa... wh-whoa!” Connie exclaimed as she fought to regain her balance. She tripped and fell forward, but unlike when she caught Steven, nobody was there to catch her from falling flat on her face. She’d outstretched her hands to lessen the blow, but still the landing was anything but pleasant.

People around her turned to see what had happened. Her face burned bright red at the attention, as she tried to gather her composure. She ended up sitting on the freezing cold surface.

“Connie!” Steven cried out, rushing over to her.

Connie's eyes turned away from the icy floor and up to Steven. He seemed anxious, despite her not bearing any actual wounds. He was offering her a hand. She took it, and he helped her back to her feet.

“Are you okay?” he asked, still holding her hand.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine!” she replied hurriedly, hiding her face. She skated back to the edge of the rink, pulling her hand from Steven’s. It felt much colder. She crossed her arms as she leaned against the edge. The glass was cool against her cheek.

To none of her surprise, Steven approached her. “What’s wrong?” he asked in a small whisper.

“This is just embarrassing,” Connie muttered, her head bowed low. “I’m just overreacting, that’s all.”

“Whatever it is, you don’t have to be embarrassed,” Steven replied. “You can tell me, you know.”

Connie glanced up at him, her head still down, but she smiled.  “I didn’t expect to become a master at it by today, but… I didn’t want to fall in the middle of a crowd, that’s all.” She looked beyond his shoulder at the crowd of skaters.

Steven looked back, too. If any of them had noticed her fall, they had since then looked away to continue skating. Whether or not the crowd actually saw meant little, however. Turning back to Connie, he said, “You said you never skated before. It’s okay to mess up.”

“No one else knows that. And...” She groaned in frustration. “I can fight off gems with you guys now. I should be able to do something as simple as skate.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” He placed his hand on her shoulder, and her frustrations were slowly melting away. Slowly. “I’m really glad you can go on gem missions with me and fight gems with us. But that doesn’t mean you have to be good at everything.” Steven smiled. “If it helps, I’m not great at it, either. We can both be bad at it together.”

Then an idea hit him, and it was crystal clear on his face. Connie blinked at the way his face lit up. He looked as if he were about to jump with excitement, but stopped himself when he stumbled in place.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

“Why don’t we try to skate together?”

“You really want to?”

“Of course! What’s the worst that could happen?”

Connie mulled that over, contemplating anything that could happen. Then again, she had faced the worst and then some, all of them with Steven. Her lips lifted into a small smile. “Jam buds?”

“Jam buds!” he cheered, hands in the air.

Connie placed her hand on Steven’s when he put his arms down. She looked at their connected hands for a moment, then at the icy surface. It shouldn’t have been that hard—heck, she’d faced a gem mutant in the freezing snow . She was just overreacting… right?

When her gaze met Steven’s, however, her train of thought slowed. He grinned at her, and it must have been contagious, because she couldn’t help but give a crooked, sheepish smile back. His unwavering enthusiasm gave her the right motivation at the best times.

“Don’t let go, okay?” Connie asked.

“Of course I won’t!” Steven exclaimed.

A small blush ran up her cheeks. “Good,” she giggled, face lighting up. “Now let’s go skating!”

The second she let go of the edge, Connie tightened her hold of Steven’s hand. If she had gripped his hand too tightly, Steven made no complaints. They slid a few feet, and Connie’s legs wobbled a bit, but otherwise, their stances never faltered. Something about having someone hold her hand made it easier.

Especially if it was Steven.

They sneaked glances at one another. Connie found Steven’s excitement adorable; she couldn’t help but laugh. As their smiles grew even wider, keeping their balance was suddenly a problem pushed into the back of their heads.  

“See? Told you we could do it!” he said, squeezing her hand.

“I should never doubt you, Mr. Universe,” she teased.

They started spinning in a circle together, lost in the moment. Like they were dancing, but with awkward feet. Both of their hands locked together and they spun in place. The cold air whisked through Connie’s hair, and Steven started laughing to himself. Connie joined in with lighthearted giggles. Steven stopped only to watch her laugh.

They were so lost in the moment, that they failed to see the pinkish glow coming from Steven’s gem.

Brilliant light hugged them, bringing them even closer.

The crowd’s attention drifted to the glowing pair of children. The pink light reflected off of the ice. Once the light dulled and faded, the two children had vanished. In their place, a taller person with a belly gem stood with their eyes shut.

When they opened their eyes, Stevonnie let out a little noise of surprise.

They glanced down at their feet, even sticking out one foot, and pressed their hand to their hips. A pair of ice skates strangely yet securely fit onto their feet. Along with the skates, Stevonnie donned Steven’s jeans and shirt and Connie’s yellow cardigan. A giggle bubbled in their throat, and unable to control themselves, they started laughing. “Alright!”

Their glee began to fade, however, when their gaze brushed over the bystanders. The skaters’ reactions around them varied:  from jaws dropping, to tripping on the cold floor from lack of focus, to grabbing their phones to text their friends that they wouldn’t believe what just happened. Stevonnie’s stomach clenched at everyone staring. The skaters all looked so  baffled and probably thought Stevonnie was so weird. Sweat condensed on the back of the fusion's neck. They stopped and stood awkwardly at the side of the ring.

For a moment, their breathing became ragged, and their head felt dizzy. Their focus wobbled, and so many thoughts raced through their mind…

Then their eyes closed, and they took a moment to clear their head.

Don’t look at your feet. Don’t look at the people. Just look at where you’re going.

Like they’re skating together.

With a deep inhale, they regained control of their breathing. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. The fog that spread through their head began to fade, and they opened their eyes again.

Eventually, every onlooker turned away and continued their trek around the rink. A little stress fell off their shoulders.

Sighing heavily, they began skating around the rink again. Whether it was the combined mediocrity of Steven and Connie’s skating skills or just that Stevonnie really was multi-talented , they were able to glide across the ice with ease. Something about the smoothness of their skating made their excitement swell.

They jumped, and despite being only a few inches in the air, the feeling was much grander, as if they had leaped over a building. The adrenaline that rushed through them was quick, and once they landed on their two feet, it was gone.

They laughed, throwing their fists up. “Ahaha, yes!”

They glanced to the side. Greg was standing up, staring through the glass, when he spotted them. He waved at them, and they waved both of their arms back with childlike enthusiasm.

Greg’s gaze drifted to the side, and they followed his gaze. Their eyes widened, but that was all they could do before they collided into someone.With a grunt, Stevonnie fell back onto the ice.

A burst of light erupted from them as they fell, and Steven and Connie fell onto the ice, mouths slightly curved with surprise.

“Uhh, s-sorry?” she woman apologized with uncertainty, staring between the two. Steven and Connie glanced up at her, giving the same shy expressions. She opened and closed her mouth, then simply grimaced. “My bad!” With a kick, she strolled forward.

Connie shook her head. Steven turned to her. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Connie’s smile alleviated his concern. Her shoulders shook as she laughed. “Rough landing, huh?”

“At least the ice is smooth,” Steven commented.

“And freezing!”

Steven stood up. “There’s that! My butt feels cold now!”

She laughed. “I know how you feel. Wanna take a break from the ice for a bit?”

“Yeah.” Steven nodded. “They have a snack area. Maybe dad can buy us pretzels.”

“With cheese?”

“Totally!”

“You can’t say no to cheesy pretzels!” Connie threw out her arms, then placed them back to her sides. “Though I hope we have more time to skate later. It’s fun.”

“As Stevonnie or…?”

Connie took his hand as they exited the rink. “Doesn’t matter. As long as you’re there with me.”  

[sinbinsidney]

Nursey Week Prompt #7 - Memories.

Derek places the palm of his hand flat against the wooden door in front of him, dropping his head as he closes his eyes. The lines of his body are clean and crisp in his dark suit, and his warped reflection stares up at him from his shined shoes, mirrored black shade a sharp contrast with the white marbled floors underneath them. He’s thoughtless as he presses his forehead on the door in front of him, ignoring his carefully styled curls, an anxious frown working its way across his face.

He lets out a quiet sigh and straightens up, tugging at the lapels of his jacket. Setting his shoulders back, Derek opens the heavy wooden door and steps onto the walkway. His eyes follow the pale length of it until he sees a matching pair of shoes at the end of it.

Dex stands across from him, looking anxious, amber eyes alight with worry. Derek feels the nerves drain out of him the minute his gaze alights on that familiar face, watching as the tension sinks out of Dex’s shoulders at the same moment. Derek smiles and takes a few steps forward, foiling Dex as he does the same, walking in time until they meet in the middle.

Derek takes Dex left hand in his own and squeezes gently before turning to face Shitty where he stands beaming the two of them.

“Mawwaige. Mawwaige is wot bwings us together today. Mawwaige, that bwessed awangement–” Derek cracks a grin as Dex turns fire-red, stepping quickly on Shitty’s toes.

“Beaumont. Fitzgerald. Knight.” He grits out, eyes wide. “You did not.”

Shitty smiles beatifically at him and winks. Derek squeezes Dex’s hand again and turns to look at him, at his soon-to-be husband. The profile of his face, golden bright in the afternoon light, prompts Derek to remember, a wave of memory washing gently over his mind.

If Derek got nervous, which he doesn’t, alright, he thinks he would be a little anxious about touring Samwell all alone, a college he’s wanted to visit ever since Shitty Knight came back to Andover on Alumni Day to catch up with the team and his friends.

He’s perfected the casual lounge against the boards in Faber Rink, head tipped just slightly back against the glass, when he spots a tall, lean figure enter through the opening in the stands. The guy steps forward until he’s next to the glass, staring out at center ice with his hands tucked deep in his too-small jeans pockets, shoulders slightly hunched in uncertainty.

He closes his eyes and breathes out, clearly taking in the sensations that accompany a hockey arena: cold air that smells like ice and metal, bright reflections off the rink surface. His hair is fiery red in the morning light that streams through Faber’s windows, wayward strands turning a burnished gold where they’re highlighted by the weak beams. His skin is glowing pale, but Derek can make out a smattering of freckles across the cheek nearest him. Derek slips right out of his “casual” pose and bangs his elbow on the edge of the boards, tripping slightly over his own feet as he tries to right himself.

“Ow, fuck,” he curses reflexively. He frowns down at his arm, rubbing it slightly, and exercises extreme control in not jumping three feet in the air when a low voice reaches him.

“You alright, man?” The guy from before is standing directly in front of him, one eyebrow raised. Up close, the guy really shouldn’t be as attractive as Derek finds him, and yet…

His carefully combed and parted hair speaks to a rigidity in routine and adherence to expectation that Derek would love to break into pieces; he wants to see how this guy reacts when he’s pushed. Derek Nurse, poet extraordinaire and artist of the unknown, finds Mr. Uptight-and-Straight-laced attractive. His ears, which stick out too far to be biologically possible, are stupidly charming as they turn slightly red the longer Derek goes without talking.

Oh fuck, how long has he been staring at this guy in silence?

“Chyeah, I’m good. I’m good. Just…slipped.” He sticks out a hand, smirk constructed on his lips. “Derek Nurse.”

“Will Poindexter. Call me Dex,” the guy responds. His grip is firm, fingers long and calloused. Derek smiles at him.

“Nursey, then. It’s nice to meet you.” Dex looks a little surprised, but he loses some of that awkward tension, unlocking his knees and relaxing into his stance. Cautiously, he grins back at Derek.

“Yeah, you too.”

It is one hundred percent Not Nice to meet Dex, turns out. The guy is infuriating. He never listens to what Derek has to say, always going on and on about “trying to follow directions,” like hockey isn’t a sport where you have to constantly adapt to what’s going on right in front of you. Like some rules are bullshit and others are made to be broken.

Why Hall and Murray keep putting them together, Derek will never understand. Except, sometimes. He can kind of see it. Every once in a while, the two of them will stop yelling at each other and just skate, quick and instinctual like they were born to play together. Communication flows effortlessly until one of them realizes it and begins yelling again, dictating where to go and what to do, inevitably pissing the other off.

It takes until January for the two of them to realize their potential. Derek whips home a solid slapper from the point, taken off a beautiful pass that weaves through traffic to meet the tape of Derek’s stick perfectly. He’s slammed into the boards about two seconds later, goal horn echoing over the cheers of the crowd. Dex is yelling in his ear, arms wrapped tight around his chest.

“Fuckin’ beautiful, Nurse!” He screams.

“Damn straight!” He yells back, gloved hand on Dex’s shoulder. “Let’s get another!” Dex pulls back and grins wickedly, giving him a nod as Ollie and Wicks join in on the celly.

Afterwards, Derek and Dex are pulled into the coach’s office, where Hall and Murray are smiling like proud parents.

“Do you boys see, now? How good you could be?” Dex had shot a look over at Derek, who turned his head to meet his gaze. Dex held out his hand for a fist bump and nodded decisively when Derek returned the motion easily.

“Yeah, Coach. We get it.”

The first time they kiss, Dex is red in the face and Derek’s voice is hoarse from yelling. Derek is pressed up against Dex’s chest, thigh in between Dex’s where he’s forced him up against the library stacks, hands fisted tight in Dex’s hoodie. The thing is, they aren’t angry with each other. Dex is red because he turns into a tomato when he exercises, and Derek is hoarse because he had been yelling after Dex, chasing him through the shadows of the empty library. Dex had jimmied open the faulty door that faced Samwell River as it lazily swept by the campus on a dare from Holster, and now the hockey team is running rampant through the stacks.

Dex had crept up behind Derek and poked him in the sides, making him shriek shout and jump about a foot in the air. When Derek had whipped around, terrified, all he had seen was Dex cracking up, gasping for breath over his knees as he laughed his ass off at Nursey.

And so the chase began.

Derek had finally caught up to Dex and tackled him into the bookshelf, careful to protect his head with one hand, leaving them pressed tight together.

“Your fucking face, Nursey, oh my god, I wish I had a camera with me,” Dex laughs, smile flashing. His face is lit up in the pale moonlight, freckles standing out sharply. His hair is messy and he’s flushed pink now that he’s calmed down, marginally.

Derek leans forward, can’t fucking help himself.

Now, they’re in the fucking Education section of Founder’s at 3:36 AM, wrapped up in each other as Dex sinks into the kiss without a beat of hesitation, throwing both arms over Derek’s shoulders. He grins into the kiss, pressing his smile to Derek’s mouth in little bursts.

He pulls back, leaning his head against the books and looks fondly down at Derek.

“You couldn’t have just asked, huh?” he chirps. Derek shakes his head and stares at him in amazement.

“But, you…” he trails off, voice fading into the muffled noises of the library. Dex raises an eyebrow and strokes his thumb over Derek’s shoulder.

“Nursey, I’ve been in love with you since the end of freshman year. I’m genuinely surprised it’s taken you this long.” Derek groans and thunks his head down on Dex’s chest, tucking his hand into Dex’s jacket pocket.

“We could’ve been fucking all this time,” he laments. Dex laughs, thankfully, and punches his shoulder.

“Hey,” he says, tilting Derek’s head up with two fingers under his chin. “We’ve got time now.”

Derek grins and leans forward to kiss him again, unable to stop smiling.

Their first date as a couple begins, objectively, as one of the worst dates of Derek’s life. Dex shows up eight minutes late to pick Derek up, breathing hard and button-up fastened all wrong, so it’s tight across his chest and askew all along the bottom. Between huffs, he tells Derek about how the car he had planned on using for tonight fell through when his lab partner, who owned it, had to use it to drive back home thanks to a family emergency; his phone had died while he was trying to get another car secured, so he hadn’t realized the time.

They’ve been dating for a few weeks now and have been friends for longer, so Derek can give him this one, at least. Dex leads him outside to where a very old, very beat-up pick-up truck is crouched in a parking spot near his dorm. Dex blushes hard and climbs determinedly behind the wheel. He waits until Derek is settled in the passenger seat before he reaches over and takes his hand, resting their woven fingers over the gear shift. He won’t meet Derek’s eyes, still blushing.

Derek grins at his idiot and leans over to press a kiss to Dex’s red cheek, flopping gracelessly back into his seat after a second, hand warm in Dex’s.

Ten minutes later, Derek is leaning against the bed of the truck as Dex looks despairingly at the flat tire, crouched over with his forearms pressed on his knees, flashlight in hand shining a bright beam onto the sad, deflated surface of the tire. They’re pulled over on an empty road in rural Massachusetts, halfway to the next town over for a nice restaurant Dex had looked up. There’s no sign of lights anywhere, either from an approaching car or a nearby house. Dex sighs and hangs his head.

“No spare in the back. And the maintenance guy won’t be here for another hour and a half.”

Derek shrugs and steps around a puddle to put a hand on Dex’s shoulder. “Hey, walking never hurt anybody, let alone us. We’re athletes, dude, it’s okay.” Dex looks up at him and gives a weak smile.

They’re walking hand-in-hand down the road when the roar of a car suddenly sounds from behind them, coming quickly over the hill they’ve just crossed. Dex tugs Derek to the side gently as the car zips past, tires dipping into another puddle left over by last night’s rainstorm.

Derek gets soaked to the skin in about two seconds, slightly muddy water dripping from his hair and face onto his shirt and nice jeans. He’s standing there, motionless, staring blankly ahead as the taillights disappear over the next hill. His shoulders are up by his ears still, not having moved from his instinctual flinch when the cold water hit his left side.

“…Derek?” No response. “Derek, babe, you okay?” Dex sounds frantically concerned, moving in front of Derek and pressing a hand to his side, ghosting it up and over Derek’s face, wiping away the water. Derek refocuses his gaze on Dex’s face and sighs. Dex’s eyes go soft and sorry as he takes in Derek’s ruined clothes.

When he looks back up at Derek’s face, he looks miserable.

“This is the worst date ever.”

“…kind of, yeah.” Dex deflates and drops his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, voice thick in his throat. “I just, I wanted this to be good for you and then I was late and had a shitty car and then it broke down and we had to walk and now you’re soaking and–” Derek’s never heard Dex sound so terribly upset, not even during their worst arguments.

He kisses Dex to shut him up, leaning away to avoid getting Dex wet, too. Dex keeps trying to talk and Derek presses kiss after kiss to his mouth.

“Will,” he says, exasperated. “It’s alright. I know you tried.” He makes a face and plucks at his shirt. Dex takes him by the hand again and leads the way back to the truck.

Five minutes later, Derek is wrapped up in Dex’s hoodie, freed of his wet pants and shirt, which are drying out in the cab. His head is pillowed on Dex’s bicep where it’s curled behind him, surrounded by the pillows and blankets Dex had magicked out of the storage seat.

“Ray and Sarah won’t mind,” he had said, shrugging.

Dex is murmuring to him, right arm extended above them to point out the shapes he finds in the stars. Their legs are tangled together and Derek is tucked into Dex’s side, warmth building in the cocoon they’ve created together.

Dex lets his arm drop and rests it on Derek’s stomach, palm flat as he turns on his side, careful not to jostle Derek too much where he’s resting comfortably on his arm. He spends a few quiet seconds tracing over Derek’s face before he speaks, quiet and low.

“I’m sorry this was such a terrible date.” Derek looks at him, eyes half-lidded.

“Dex, I’m cuddled with my boyfriend and stargazing from a comfortable nest of pillows and blankets. I, for one, am considering this a great date.” Dex smiles brilliantly at him and attacks him with kisses, shifting to lean over him, propped up on his elbow as they make out beneath the stars, bare sliver of a moon lighting their way.

“I love you,” he murmurs. Derek strokes over his hair and runs his hand down to rest over Dex’s heart.

“I love you, too.” The rhythmic beat of Dex’s heart thumps away beneath his palm, constant and reassuring.

Derek tugs him back down, meeting him halfway.

Derek faces Dex on their wedding day and presses his left palm over Dex’s heart, right where it was the first time he ever told Dex he loved him. The gold of his ring glimmers up at him from his fourth finger.

The thump of Dex’s heart is still the same as it was that day, and Derek loves him more than he ever can know.

“I now pronounce you married. You may kiss your husband,” Shitty says from beside them, tears evident in the slight shake of his voice.

Dex curls a hand around his neck and leans forward.

Derek meets him halfway.

So, this Nursey Week has been an absolute experience. I’m going to take this time to say thank you to both Pie and Hals for being excellent moderators and organizers! This was lovely and I enjoyed every minute of it.

I would also like to thank you, dear reader, for taking the time to read the stories I’ve written this week. I hope you enjoyed going through them as much as I had writing them!