#but my body still hurts from that day carrying around a lot of equipment. and i still have so many other things to do today

[fappellmoan]

guys i really dont think i have it in me today.

[vanishingstarrs]

pancakes for dinner ( k bakugo x nurse!reader, pro hero era, established relationship, just soft and pure vibes, down bad bakugo aka my boyfie fr, slight smut at the end, NSFW, minors DNI ) ( guysss i’ve been so sick and i’ve been suffering having to work still bc #hispanic we ain’t eva allowed to call out )): i’ve been wanting to write please please please x bakugo but haven’t had the energy, meantime hope y’all enjoy this little fic <3 just wholesome mushy stuff for y’all but then it turned smutty at the end because why not lol also i’m pretty new to writing explicitly so pls lmk how it came out !! idk if i'll do that again lmao we shall see i guess )

You were exhausted.

Mentally and physically.

Work had been a tad overwhelming lately, with extra things being piled onto your already heavy workload after a big merger between two of Japan’s biggest hospitals, which in turn caused a lot of people to be let go. Not only had it been stressful wondering whether you’d make the cut or not after a “re-interview”, but when you learned that you had been accepted you’d also been asked if you could take on a few extra duties.

You had never been one to back down from work, always taking initiative and being happy to help any one of your coworkers that might need it.

Lately though, it seemed every single person needed help. Your coworkers, your patients, and if it wasn’t those two then it was your boss asking if you could help her with management duties that had nothing to do with the extra work you’d been assigned to do on top of everything else.

You were sick and tired.

Your muscles cried out as you pushed your apartment door open and immediately kicked off your shoes, groaning as you bent down in order to place them onto the shoe stand. You were sure you heard your back crack as you stood straight once more to hang your purse and keys.

You didn’t bother unpacking the lunch you never got time to eat, leaving the bag you packed it in tied up and in the fridge before heading into your bedroom and immediately shedding your scrubs. You hated doing skincare, but thought about how dirty your face must be after dealing with so many patients and dragged yourself into the bathroom to get it over with.

By the time you were finished doing everything, your body was begging you to lay down for just a minute.

A little power nap never hurt, you told yourself as you fell onto your bed face first and sighed. You hugged your pillow to your aching body and allowed yourself to relax for just a little while.

Though “a minute” quickly turned into three hours as the sun went down and the night sky pulled you further into dreamland.

You didn’t hear the front door open or close, you didn’t stir when your boyfriend started removing his hero equipment, much less wake when those heavy gauntlets he somehow wore all day hit the floor or when his pounding footsteps carried across the hardwood as he made his way to your shared bedroom to check on you.

You missed the brief smirk on his face as he found you lying on his side of the bed, on your right side with a leg propped up for comfort.

Katsuki knew how hard you’d been working lately with the merger between the two hospitals and how stressed it made you. With him working as a hero, he encountered many people that wound up needing to go to the hospital. On top of that, you also had all the other sick people that hadn’t been involved in some villain attack. You likely dealt and saved more people in a single day than he did in a month, he knew this, he was proud of the fact, actually, and incredibly proud of you.

He was damn lucky to have you.

And for all these reasons, he was happy to see you rest for a bit.

He’d often come home late and find that you’d already done all the cleaning around the house, as well as meal prep for both you and him, and still found the time to bake desert on top of making him dinner. You went above and beyond in all aspects of your life, often even calling and checking up on his parents when he hadn’t done so in too long. He’d receive texts from his mother scolding him and making sure he was taking good care of you the way she knew you did him, he swore you were the favorite and he understood why you were.

Everyone loved you.

He adored you.

Except he hadn’t been doing his part as well as he should be lately.

And so, while you slept, he quietly changed into some loungewear before carefully shutting the bedroom door closed behind him.

He tried his hardest to be quiet as he went around cleaning up throughout the house, he swept, he steam mopped the floors (and prayed he didn’t miss a spot), he did your laundry, took your work shoes and scrubbed them clean for your next workday, he took your old lunch and tossed it out before setting to work on preparing you something delicious for tomorrow.

Being in the kitchen was actually soothing for him, he liked being able to experiment with recipes and different things for you to try. He hated that he hadn’t made the time to recently. He cooked enough dinner to pack lunch for both you and him, then last minutely decided that you’d definitely want something sweet when you woke up and pulled out the ingredients to make pancakes from scratch.

You liked it best when you had pancakes for dinner, not breakfast.

He was extremely pleased when they turned out light and fluffy just the way you liked them and he set out to cut up some fruit for you to put on top, making sure everything was ready before heading back to your shared room.

Katsuki was less quiet this time around, as he slid into bed next to you. He propped himself up on his elbow as he buried his fingers into your hair and gently scratched your scalp.

You were exhausted, and likely wouldn’t have woken up if not for him leaning over and placing kisses from your neck all the way up to your ear. You felt his hot breath as he whispered for you to please wake up, which made you groan softly.

You’d yet to open your eyes, but who else would it be? You asked,“Katsuki?”

“Made you food, baby, c’mon, I saw you didn’t eat your lunch, you gotta put somethin’ in your belly.” He explained as he removed his hand from your hair and lifted the material of your shirt to rub up and down your stomach, you felt him inch closer to your chest before stopping himself and tugging your tank top back down to your waist.

You turned toward him, quickly finding the divet in between his shoulder and neck to plant your face in. You were barely awake, not really comprehending what he was trying to say.

“Missed you.” You relaxed further into him.

“Missed you so much, sweets.” You felt him kiss your forehead,“Hate to pull you from bed, but you really gotta open your eyes for me.”

You did as he asked, smiling as his face came into view, lit up by the soft light streaming in from the hallway. “Hi, honey.” You managed to get out as he smushed your cheeks (cuteness aggression) and placed three kisses onto your nose.

You grinned as he said hi back and repeated that he’d cooked for you.

You beamed, you hadn’t had his cooking in a while, but didn’t exactly make a move to get up from bed. It wasn’t until he revealed that he’d made you pancakes, that had you up in seconds.

He chuckled as he followed you down the hall, lightly smacking your butt as you happily made your way through the apartment. You turned to him with surprise,“You cleaned too?”

“Course.” He scoffed as he tugged on your hand and sat you down at your small table that sat four people max. “I’d do it more if you didn’t always beat me to everything, I was thinking I should be doing a bit more around here anyway.”

“I can handle it.” You said, like always.

He rolled his eyes as he brought over the plate he’d prepared for you.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t, I’m just saying you don’t have to give a hundred percent every day, you know? You could give me thirty and I’d be more than happy to give the remaining seventy.” He began to explain,“I wanna take care of you too, and that starts by you not doing everything.”

You silently watched him cut up your pancakes before placing some fruit onto them and drizzling maple syrup all over, he gave you tea to drink and pulled his chair closer to you while you ate.

He ran his fingers through your hair again as you told him all about your day before asking about his and what time he’d gotten home. He let you feed him a couple bites of food and you snagged a few extra kisses each time you lied and told him he had syrup on his face.

When you finished, he asked if you’d like a bit of real food, claiming he wanted you nice and full. You agreed, happy to eat what he’d prepared.

You were less tired now, satisfied with your belly full and sitting with your lover as he recalled a story about retrieving someone’s lost kitten in a tree. You laughed at the classic save and felt your mental load becoming lighter the more the minutes went on.

After eating, the pampering continued.

Katsuki demanded you allow him to run you a bath, and he quickly made the bathroom up with a few candles. He set up a movie for you to watch on your laptop as he came into the room with you and offered to wash your hair. You requested he get in with you then, and he obliged quickly, taking his time when it came to massaging his hands through your hair and pressing kisses against your back at every opportunity. He held you against his chest as you relaxed into him.

You honestly started to get sleepy again.

And then it was ripped away from you once more as Katsuki led you to bed, not to sleep, but to have you spread out against the mattress for him to plaster his tongue against you and demand he get his dinner now.

“Wanna take care of you.” He’d said.

He quickly had you squirming and writhing underneath his touch and the feel of his fingers inside as he worked you until completion. He sung you praises about how hard you’d been working lately, telling you how you deserved this and more, as well as making sure you knew how good you always did for him.

“One more, baby.” He begged.

One more turned into two then three, and by the time he finally lined himself up to your entrance you were spent. He worshipped your body, kneading your breasts and holding one of your hands back so you couldn’t hide how flushed your face had become from not just his compliments, but from the way he fucked you.

“Katsuki,” You moaned,“Close.” Again.

“Cum with me, baby, please.”

The movement of his hips was starting to get sloppy, but neither of you noticed through the haze. He whined in your ear as you latched onto his back with your hands and wrapped your legs around his waist, your walls squeezed him and he moaned one last time as he got lost in euphoria. He didn’t make a move to remove himself as he pressed his sweaty forehead against your own and kissed your cheek and then your neck and then your collarbone, making a line all the way down to your bellybutton.

He occupied himself with making sure you stayed awake despite your eyes being closed as you attempted to catch your breath, he sucked hard enough to leave a few marks along your chest and before you knew it you started to feel him become hard inside of you again.

Your eyes snapped open as you gave him a look.

Katsuki smirked as he rubbed your hip and stole your mouth briefly,“Gotta make sure you’re nice and full, baby, one more time f’me, please?”

“You’re insatiable.” You told him.

And yet, how could you say no to him when he looked at you that way?

It was a good thing you’d taken that nap earlier, especially now that your body would soon be aching for a different reason.

[quirkwizard]

Good night, morning or afternoon! I hope you have a good day! I would like to ask how could Bulk evolve? What would it's hero suit be like? Thank you very much for your attention! This is without a doubt one of my favorite quirks and I wanted to see how he could be improved.

Out of all the Quirks I've made, I wouldn't expect someone to call "Bulk" one of their favorites. Still, I have talked about evolutions and applications before, so I'll focus on the costume.

If you are talking general style, that comes more down to the character. There are certainly plenty of tough guy archetypes to take inspiration from and what image they want to present, such as the powerful circus strong man or the tough as nails bancho. As for support equipment, that's a bit tougher. There is a problem support equipment could help with, that being the energy drain on their body. They could have various utility pouches to carry various foods or calorie supplements in order to keep the user's energy up. Otherwise, the user may just be too strong to handle a lot of it. However, one idea I liked is that the user could carry around Hyper Dense Tools, similar to the weights Sir Nighteye had. Because the user is so strong, they wouldn't be bothered too much by the extra weight, but could give them a lot of power. While they could feasibly have any tool they want, throwable ones like the seals would be especially useful for the extra range. They could then integrate them into the costume as well, like having bracers and kneepads made of them, in order to increase their striking power like Bakugou does. It could even work as a way to suppress the user's physical abilities as to keep themselves from hurting people. They could then remove these weights in order to go all out if they need to.

[fernweh-writes]

How do you think the slashers would react to their s/o just crumbling to the floor because of a severe migraine

My chronic migraines give me plenty of experience with this one. Enjoy luv!

-Fern🌿

Slashers x S/O With Severe Migraines

Michael Myers

Michael would freak out, but of course you would never know that, he’s as expressionless as ever. But he’s worried about you, he’s never seen you in so much pain and he hates not knowing how to help. So when you crumble to the ground with your head in your hands his first instinct is to pick you up.

Does his best to do what you normally do whenever you have a migraine or bad headache. After getting you tucked into bed he closes the blinds remembering how you would throw an arm over your eyes to block out the light. Brings you a glass of water and some pain killers to try and help with the persistent pain.

You won’t have to worry about loud noises being an issue either considering Michael always moves around quietly. It’s a quality of his that normally annoys you since he scares the crap out of you so often but in the moment you’ve never been more grateful that your giant of a boyfriend is so quite.

If the nausea gets to you and you make a run for the bathroom, Michael will disappear. He may care about you but he’s not going to hold your hair back for you or anything. Will show up to carry you back to the bed once more though. Even he won’t leave you lying on the cold floor.

Bo Sinclair

Bo may have experience with extreme hangovers but he doesn’t have any experience with severe migraines. At first, when you begin to complain about the pain he teases you about it. “It can’t be that bad, darlin’, you’re just bein’ dramatic.” He simply doesn’t understand the severity of your migraines, so you can imagine his surprise when you fall to the ground grimacing and taking deep breaths.

He does his best to appear nonchalant but you can still tell he’s panicking. Bo’s not stupid, he knows you have a pretty good pain tolerance and has witnessed it first hand. So he understands that you have to be in some serious pain to just crumble to the ground like that.

Carries you up the stairs to the bedroom and just awkwardly hovers. Eventually he decides to ask Vincent for his help. Bo knows everything there is to know about cars but he’s helpless when it comes to fixing up people.

His best idea is to just lay with you and rub circles onto your skin in a poor attempt to distract you from the pain and discomfort. Keeps asking what he can do to help when really the best thing he could do is stop asking questions and learn to shut up for once in his life. If you snap at him he decides that he can allow it use this once but don’t ever try to again.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent spend most of his time underneath Ambrose in his workshop. So when he finally reappears on the surface only to find you sitting on the kitchen floor with your head in your hands he’s immediately worried and begins to fret over you.

I’m convinced that Vincent actually knows a lot about medicine. His messed up father most definitely left behind a bunch of medical textbooks in his office as well as a few medical journals as well. Reading all of them in his free time has given him a great understanding of anatomy and the human body. How else would he be so good with handling the bodies. He can properly administer a sedative, stitch people up, and accurately slice the Achilles’ tendon, those things aren’t just common knowledge.

This makes Vincent the best equipped slasher to help you through any migraine. He’ll scoop you up and carry you to bed making sure the room stays dark and quite. If you want him to stay with you he will, otherwise he will leave you be and just occasionally pop in to check on you. If Bo comes home shouting Vincent will deal with him immediately.

Memorizes all of your migraine triggers and does his best to help you avoid them. While Vincent has sadistic tendencies he never wants to see you in pain. Especially not in so much pain that you fall to the floor and curl up on yourself like that.

Thomas Hewitt

The Hewitt household is always filled with loud noises and commotion. Whether it be screams, yelling, slamming doors, or the sound of a chainsaw there’s always some type of loud noise. But with so much to be done around the house and your need to carry your own weight, you do your best to push through the pain that begins in your head. But as the pain intensifies and the noises around you just continue to grow louder, you fall to the ground.

When Thomas finds you curled in on yourself he panics. Doing his best to be gentle, he picks you up and does the only thing he knows to do. Setting you down on the kitchen table he pulls Luda Mae over to you. His momma is the only person he can think of to help you out. Sure enough, she’s able to assess your migraine quickly and gets Thomas to carry you up to bed and close the curtains to try and block out the sun.

For once in a long time, the house is quite. There is no yelling, no screaming, and definitely no chainsaw. Luda Mae makes sure to keep Hoyt and Monty quiet while Thomas makes sure to not leave your side. The bodies can be dealt with tomorrow no matter how much crap he gets from Hoyt. Right now, Thomas is focused on making sure that you’re okay and fetches you anything that you need.

Brahms Heelshire

It’s no secret that Brahms watches you all day long. Whether he’s glued to your hip or within the walls, you can always feel his eyes on you and Brahms always finds a way to make his presence known. So when your migraine hits an unbearable point and the world begins to sway, you decide to sit on the middle of the floor.

Seeing you suddenly drop to the ground has Brahms panicking from his spot within the walls. You can hear him move around with loud thunks which only causes you to wince and press your hands to your head in an attempt to block out the noise. His whines of concern when he reach you don’t help either and you snap.

Brahms has never seen you snap at him like that but he’s also never seen you hurt like this so he feels very conflicted. Eventually he reasons that for now he can help you so that you’re no longer in pain. But lashing out at him like that is behavior that can’t go unpunished. So all the while he’s helping you and being on his best behavior he’s thinking of all the ways he can punish you when you feel better.

Billy Loomis

Billy isn’t good at taking care of people, half the time he can’t even do a good job of showing he cares. That doesn’t change the fact that he’s still very protective over you though. So when you crumble to the ground at one of Stu’s parties with tears beginning to form in your eyes he immediately grabs you and carries you to an empty room away fro any people.

When you explain to him that it’s a migraine and all the noise and flashing lights are only making it worse he’s immediately getting you in the car and carrying you home, no complaints. Billy refuses to keep you in a place that’s only going to make you feel worse even if he doesn’t know how to help you get rid of your migraine.

Once you make it home he carries you to bed and hands you water and pain killers. After listening to your instructions to hit the lights he crawls into bed beside you. Even after you manage to fall asleep he’s staying up worrying over you. Billy enjoys seeing people hurt, he’s crazy enough to stab his own best friend with no remorse. Even then, he quickly decides that he never wants to see you hurt and does everything he can to prevent that.

Stu Macher

Stu’s not great with empathy, he does a terrible job of reading the room, and he does a bad job of helping other people most of the time. So seeing you curl up on the ground makes him nervous. He knows you have migraines from time to time but usually you’re able to handle them on you’re own. The most you ever get him to do is fetch you water or Tylenol.

He panics as he helps you up off the ground, not knowing what to do with you. He considers carrying you to bed but decides that the couch is much closer. Pulling a blanket off of the back he drapes it over you, making sure to turn off the TV so it doesn’t bother you.

For the first time in his life Stu manages to be quite. Since he can’t ramble though he finds himself fidgeting around, biting at the skin around his nails. Listening to your small groans and whines of pain make him want to do something, anything. Knowing that all he can do is wait makes him feel helpless and useless.

Stu goes out of his way to help you avoid anything that might trigger your migraines. If you get a sever migraine while out in public he will come pick you up so that you dont’ have to drive yourself home. The two of you can worry about your car later, he’s just worried about making you feel better.

Jesse Cromeans

This man has his own medical staff just on standby at all times. Having any sort of severe or chronic migraines is no problem when you’re with Jesse. One phone call and he can find you the best doctor in the whole country.

Seeing you curl into a ball as you sit on the ground has him calling Spann and telling her to clear his schedule for the rest of the day. You are his top priority, he can handle business another day. Even if it was something important he has a whole team of people that are more than capable of handling the situation for the time being. He’ll make sure that you get some rest knowing that a nap usually helps to eradicate your pain.

If he happens to bring you along to one of his warehouses and end up with a migraine though then he begins to get nervous. You’re more likely to be put in danger there, so he’ll be reluctant to bring you along again. Jesse will have you sit in his lap and anyone that barges in yelling about “business affairs” then he’ll quickly get rid of them.

Black out curtains. He knows that the light streaming through the windows can make your migraines so much worse. So he would make sure to have blackout curtains in your bedroom so that no light can get through and you can rest peacefully. Nothing like a dark and quiet room when your head feels like it’s about to explode.

Asa Emory

If this happens while you’re still trapped in his hotel of horror, then you’re just kind of SOL. Asa has cameras in every room so he most definitely knows that you’re in pain. On the bright side the hotel is pretty dark and quiet so there’s not much that will make your migraine worse. Unless Asa decides to torture you by turning on extra bright lights or causing a scene just for some noise to irritate you.

If you’re still in the hotel, but Asa has grown fond of you then he may show some mercy. Sadly that mercy comes in the form simply knocking you out with any method he deems convenient. Lucky you, you wont be hit upside the head because he knows that would just make things worse.

However, if he’s decided to make you his a little house spouse, then he tends to be more gentle. His house is quiet and the dimly lit bedroom is your safe haven whenever your head starts to hurt. If you fall to the ground he’ll carry you to bed. Making sure to remind you how weak and pathetic you are, you wouldn’t be able to do anything without him to take care of you.

[michaelmilligan]

Endversetober Day 31: Hope

(explanation post) (compilation post)

“Adam! Adam!!” Kevin barged into the cabin, knocking the door into the wall. “It's happening!”

“What?” Adam sprang up, infected by the anxiety, even though he wasn't sure what exactly it was that was apparently happening. “What's going on?”

“It's coming!!”

Adam blinked at him, then felt his eyes widen. “The child?!”

“Yeah!! It's happening right now!”

“Oh my God! Okay, okay, stay calm, uhhh-” Frantically, Adam looked around the room, before Michael told him that they didn't need anything from their cabin to help with a birth.

All the equipment is in the infirmary. Go!

Right! Adam sprinted out, closely followed by Kevin.

“Kev, get some boiled water from the kitchen!” Adam yelled at him. “Boiled, not boiling, okay?! And towels, get as many towels as you can get!”

“Okay!” Kevin broke off from them to the right.

Oh for fuck's sake. Michael took over their mouth for a moment to yell: “The kitchen's the other way!”

“Right!” Kevin started running the other way.

When Adam ran into the infirmary, Raphael glanced up at him before concentrating back on their patient. Barbara looked like she was in pain and scared, but keeping up a tough front.

“You're here. Good,” Raphael said, the picture of calm. “We need hot water and towels.”

“Kevin is getting them.” Adam rushed over to the bed and put a hand on Barbara's arm. “How are you doing?”

“Well.” She gulped. “It's starting to hurt and I figure it's only gonna get worse from here on.” She winced, probably hit by a wave of pain, then gave him a lopsided smile.

“Okay, just hang on, it's all gonna be over before you know i-”

“That's my baby!” Robert burst into the room, looking dishevelled and somewhat manic. When his eyes fell on Barbara, they softened. “Babs... I'm really becoming a dad.”

“Oh, now you acknowledge it!” Barbara glared at him, putting both hands on her stomach as if to lay claim to the child still inside of her.

“I'm so sorry, Babs, I was a fool... I broke it off with Amanda...”

Barbara's face turned soft now, as well. “Oh, honeypoo...”

“Alright. Sit down.” Adam pushed a chair next to the bed and manoeuvred Robert onto it, suddenly feeling a lot less anxious, but a lot more nauseous.

“I thought you didn't know who the father was,” Raphael said dryly.

“Um.” Barbara gave an embarrassed smile. “Surpr-aaaaaaaah! Fuck!” She clenched her teeth, her whole body rigid as the contractions apparently became worse. “Oh- oh wow, she really wants to meet her daddy, huh?”

“She?” Robert said hopefully as he took Barbara's hand, though his eyes kept flitting down Barbara's body nervously.

“The probability that it will be a girl is very high,” Raphael said from between Barbara's legs. “Alright, it's opening just fine. You need to press now.”

“Okay. Okay.” Barbara took a few quick breaths, then closed her eyes and almost crushed Robert's hand, judging from the look on his face.

Or maybe the fact that he was pale as drywall had nothing to do with his hand.

“I got water and towels!” Kevin barged into the room, saw Barbara on the bed, and almost dropped everything he was carrying. Luckily, Adam was quick enough to grab the towels, and conveniently blocked Kevin's view in the process.

“Thanks, Kev. Now can you get us some coffee?” Adam asked as he also took the water from him.

Kevin just nodded, eyes still wide, before he stumbled back out of the cabin.

Why is everyone acting like someone is dying? Michael asked, sounding genuinely confused.

A birth is a huge thing. And there's always the risk of something going wrong �� which would mean that both the mother and the child could get hurt, or worse, Adam told him.

Well, you certainly seem very calm all of a sudden. Even ordering some coffee.

Adam smiled. It's mostly for Robert. My mom worked in the maternity ward for a while and she told me all those stories about the dads fainting – they eventually started giving them coffee to stabilize them.

Ah. Smart. Michael watched the proceedings with a level of detachment that he probably wouldn't have felt if he'd been in control of their body. The whole birth process seems pretty inefficient. I always wondered why not every species just lays eggs.

Eggs? Seriously? You know a bunch of eggs get eaten by predators, right. And some just don't hatch.

Yes, but it leaves the parents more mobile.

Birds literally stay on top of their eggs, like. 24/7 or something.

Hm, Michael just made.

Would you want to lay eggs? I mean, I guess you used to be one giant chicken...

“Adam,” Raphael pulled him out of his reverie, and distracted Michael enough that he forgot to be indignant. “Help me here.”

It took so long until the baby was delivered that the coffee Kevin got them turned cold, but as Barbara hugged her new-born child to her chest for the first time, none of them could have cared less about a beverage.

After that, it didn't take long before other people started poking their heads into the infirmary to check on the parents and get a first glimpse of the new addition to the camp.

Adam didn't think there were any kids around who were younger than six – so this might be the first child born since the start of the whole zombie thing, at least in this little corner of the world. Some people had been grumbling about how irresponsible it was to bring a child into a broken world like this. But as Adam walked through the camp that night, all he could see were smiling faces and celebrations.

This world wasn't what it used to be, and maybe it would never be that again.

But as long as there was one human still breathing – or an angel, Michael added for him – there was hope yet.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Losing You - Bucky Barnes

a/n: i guess you could see this coming after all the gifs i reblogged recently, but i finally got around to catch up on the eps of TFATWS and now all i can think about is bucky... so here, take this cute little piece and enjoy some soft buck on this fine afternoon!

pairing: Bucky X Reader

warnings: TFATWS spoiler, blood, gunshot

word count: 1.2k

summary: You get injured when you try to save Bucky and he is mad at you for risking your life for him.

masterlist

“You are so damn stubborn,” Bucky mumbles under his breath, slightly shaking his head as he focuses on the wound on your side. You hiss when he starts to stitch up your wound, the needle going through your skin over and over again as he closes the slit.

“I saved your life,” you grumble, reminding him that if you didn’t jump into action he would have gotten a bullet right through his chest. He might be a super soldier, but he is not immortal and he seems to forget about that a lot these days. He doesn’t answer, just shoots you a glare before his blue eyes return to the bloody wound on your side.

You had a pretty intense encounter with one of Karli’s people, he was big and bulky above already having the serum pumping through his veins. Bucky always tells you to leave the fighting to him, but the guy was about to end him when Bucky’s focus shifted for just a split second from his target. You were moving before you could even process what you were doing, pushing Bucky out of the way, earning yourself a battle wound as the bullet grazed your side, leaving a long slit on your skin.

A minute later Bucky won the battle and he would have captured the guy if only he wasn’t more concerned about you, groaning on the ground, holding your hand to your side. Now you have to listen to his scolding for at least a day about how you shouldn’t have gotten involved, even though you didn’t die and most importantly, he is still alive as well. In your book, that’s all that matters.

“There, all stitched up,” he sighs finishing his masterpiece. You roll your shirt back down as he packs up the bloody tissues and other equipment he used and as you sit up on the old sofa, your eyes fall on him. He avoids looking at you as he moves around in the room and you can tell he is holding a grudge for what you did, even when it’s clear you did it because you had to. He knows you would never let him die, not when you have the chance to save him, but now he is upset because you ignored his orders and put your own life at risk. But he always does the same, you can’t even count how many times he has been your savior, why can’t it be the other way around this one time?

“Are you really mad at me?” you softly ask, not in the mood to start another fight, you had that on the way home when he carried you in his arms while you were trying your best not to faint from the blood that was tainting your clothes more and more. You got into a kind of screaming match, both of you scared of the possibility of your wound being serious, but it was a relief when he checked it and saw that it wasn’t all that bad.

“I’m… not mad,” he mumbles under his breath, still not looking in your way.

“Then what are you?” you prompt the question, but you both know he has no answer. He is mad at you, but probably not for the right reasons.

“I’m upset, Y/N. You risked your life for me when you know you’re not a fighter! You’re here to help us with IT stuff, what were you thinking?!” he suddenly snaps, his bloodshot eyes finally find your frame and his eyes are filled with rage and… fear. “You could have died. If that bullet goes just a little bit more to the right, it would have gone through one of your vital organs and would have died right there, probably in my arms.”

“But I didn’t,” you tell him again, but it doesn’t matter. He is too hung up on the what ifs and he refuses to see the positive side of the situation.

“But you could have! And then I would have lost another person I love!”

You open your lips and then close, the raw emotions of his heavy words are clouding the room and you stare at each other as his chest heaves, hands curled into fists by his side, the veins popping on his neck.

It took him so much time to admit to his feelings about you. He was adamant whether he should allow himself this small piece of happiness in his tortured life and though at first he tried to fight it, he eventually realized he just can’t keep himself away from you. But now he is facing the consequences of letting himself care so deeply about someone for the first time in so long. He is not mad at you for not obeying, he is mad because you risked your life and he knows he wouldn’t be able to move on if anything ever happened to you because of him.

Pushing yourself up from the couch you hiss a little as you come to stand and he immediately reaches out to help you, but you just wave at him, doing it on your own. Stepping closer he stands still, staring down at you intently as he watches you reach up and cup his face in your palms.

“I’m sorry for risking my life, but I wasn’t thinking. You were being hurt and I had the chance to help. You would do the same for me, right? You would always take care of me and make sure I’m safe.”

“Of course,” he breathes out nodding shortly.

“I feel the same way. I might not be a super soldier or an excellent fighter, but I would do anything for the people I love. And that includes you as well.”

His eyes soften as he leans into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you into his embrace careful not to hurt your wound.

“I just don’t want to lose you,” he whispers, his voice is so broken and full of fears. When his eyes open again they look at you with so much pain and fear in them, it hurts you to see him like this. He has suffered so much in his extraordinarily long life, he deserves just as much love as he gives to others.

“I’m still here. I’m tougher than you might think,” you joke, wanting to lighten the mood. He cracks a small smile as he leans closer and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Of course you are,” he smirks and he is about to lean down to kiss you on your lips when the front door opens and Sam appears. Bucky texted him about your little encounter and he must have ran back immediately, his terror filled eyes are now scanning your body, checking if you have every part. Then he realizes that the two of you are kind of having a moment and he sighs in relief, but doesn’t miss the chance to have a snarky comment.

“You just faced death, Y/N, and you are already jumping his bones? You two needs to just fu—“

He doesn’t get to finish, Bucky cuts him off with a warning glare.

“Watch your mouth,” he growls, but you see the tiny smirk hiding in the corner of his mouth. Sam just laughs, walking past the two of you, giving you some privacy. “He surely knows how to ruin a moment,” Bucky mumbles rolling his eyes, but you just laugh, curling your arms around his neck.

“Where were we before he barged in?” you ask, tilting your head to the side with an innocent look.

“Mm, right here,” he hums before his lips finally find yours.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

@harrysgloves​

[sxfik]

let's talk about han seo, hockey and his relationship with vincenzo!

disclaimer: probably more unorganized than usual lol but i had a lot of thoughts on this. feel free to add on!!

hockey has been a connection to han seo that we have seen throughout the drama. hockey is a traditionally masculine sport, and focused on team building and brotherhood between the participants. hockey is also a violent sport, often very rough on the body and rigorous. the show utilizes hockey as a symbol of masculinity, and a representation of brotherhood, especially for han seo.

from very early on, hockey sets the dynamic between the brothers: the ice is a punishment and a reminder of han seo's relationship with his brother who uses hockey as a punishment for his brother's mistakes as well as a way to let off steam. the first notable utilization of hockey was prior to jun woo's reveal as han seok. we watch as han seo explains himself to han seok and han seok repeatedly hitting the puck into his stomach when angry and unsatisfied with the answers. this is the first real relationship we see between the two brothers. han seok uses han seo as a punching bag in order to let off his anger that he feels on a day to day basis and as a reminder to han seo of his place beneath him.

we can use this scene to infer about their relationship in their childhood. Mr. Nam has mentioned that han seo was abused by his brother as a child and has gone to therapy his whole life. as a young adult, he turned to drugs and partying and it is implied that he has wound up in the police station many times. han seok has used han seo as his punching bag and han seo molded his personality and actions in order to avoid provoking his brother. han seok has constantly reminded han seo that he is beneath him, both in blood along with intelligence and stature, and in order to satisfy him, han seo leveled himself down.

it’s important to note that this is certainly not true about han seo. we have seen that han seo picks up on situations much faster than han seok thinks (gummy bear scene), but refuses to let his brother notice as it can result in more abuse. the only reason han seo comes off as a bumbling chairman is because he isn’t as “cunning” as vincenzo or jang han seok.

it's also important to note that while there have been moments of a cordial relationship between the two, it is still an abusive relationship. even after moments where han seok has shown kindness to han seo, it is no excuse for the abuse that han seo has suffered. it is also not a reason to say that han seok is caring brother despite his abuse as he does not care for han seo beyond preserving him as an escape out of jail or death.

it's safe to say that han seo has never had a real brotherly relationship neither has he had a role model in his life and it shows in the early episodes. we see han seo mimic han seok's hockey tactics and throw pucks at his advisors (idk what to call them tbh) and even force the board members to drink spicy food without water (maybe this was a way han seok punished him when he was younger). han seo mimics his brother and attempts to be like him in these episodes. that is also why he sends thugs after cha-young and vincenzo: he is attempting his brother's scare tactics but it is clear to see that han seo is not the one for strategizing and well, being a villain. furthermore, we have noticed han seok's attachment to hockey sticks and how he deals out punishment (i.e. killing the prosecutor with a hockey stick, defending himself against intruders with the hockey stick, smashing in the car window glass with hockey stick) and han seo has bound to pick up this toxic relationship with hockey, and as an extension in the way he views his relationship with his brother.

we see this change as we watch the scene where han seo and vincenzo are on the ice together. both are stood opposing each other but in the same pose and in hockey gear. this establishes them as equals as both are equipped with the same armor and the same attack sticks. both of them have an equal chance at the puck. it heavily contrasts the scene we see where we see han seok, fully in armor and equipped to attack, and han seo in the lone suit with no protection or means to attack him back. we also note that when han seo scores, we see a genuine smile on his face and as vincenzo threatens light heartedly to "come here" and makes a move towards him, he playfully skates away. this is similar to how many brother's play on the playground together as kids: competitive but never cut-throat or attempting to maim each other. we also note han seo asking from approval from vincenzo, like a little kid would from their older sibling, asking if they did good, and vincenzo responds like an older sibling with playfully underplaying their contribution. we also see vincenzo granting han seo good advice to use/train his brain and asks him about his studies, the same way an older brother checks up on a younger one.

we can note that han seo feels comfortable around vincenzo in a way we don't see with his brother. vincenzo makes a move to throw a puck in his direction when he drops honorifics but we don't see han seo flinch in the same way that he does with han seok. even when vincenzo makes moves towards him, or gets closer he doesn't flinch, he just glides back. it shows that han seo trusts Vincenzo in a way he hasn't before. he also shyly thanks him for the advice and expresses a certain love to vincenzo, beyond just the admiration that everyone has for him (aka the vincenzo effect).

of course, we see han seo skate toward vincenzo and losing control but vincenzo catches him. he is caught off guard as he is caught though which might be telling us that han seok would have never made a move to protect his brother like that. even though i've seen many people criticizes the usage of "is this love" during that sequence, i don't believe it's used mockingly like adrenaline is. "is this love" is the song used when vincenzo develops a serious relationship with someone, most notably cha-young. what this song is doing in this scene is establishing a sibling relationship between vincenzo and han seo and noting that there is a specialty to their partnership, just like how cha-young and vincenzo's relationships are special.

most importantly (and what breaks my heart), han seo asks vincenzo repeatedly whether he will kill him. while this fear is warranted as han seo has aided han seok in many ways prior to him seeing the light and teaming up with vincenzo, we also know that han seo was fearful for his life with han seok. han seo walks on a thin line with han seok and never knowing when his life was going to end at his hands. han seok continually teased him and threatened him (we can infer this from the gummy bear and "are you going to kill me like you killed our father" and when han seok held the knife to his neck). not to mention, han seo now carries a watch gifted by han seok: a reminder that han seok has control over his life. han seo is continually fearful of when his brother will murder him and take that watch as his next trophy. except this time, we can note that han seo says something along the lines "i know you won't but i can't help but feeling uneasy." it really enforces how far han seok's abuse has hurt han seo. even with reassurances, he is still fearful that his brother, or someone he views as his brother will take it away from him.

it's important to note that hockey is a sport that emphasizes team building and brotherhood also encourages a little rough housing. han seok and hockey vs. vincenzo and hockey are the two opposite ends of what hockey is supposed to be as a sport. han seok and hockey empahsize the violence, and rough nature of hockey, where han seok is using the puck and the hockey sticks as weapons to attack defenseless people (han seok, those prosecutors, that poor car and also zumba snake choi and mr. han). han seok uses it to crush down han seo instead and leaves behind the team aspect. vincenzo on the other hand focuses more on the team building and brotherhood MORE than the violence, their scenes focused more on vincenzo giving advice and building han seo up rather than crushing him and pushing him down. we see han seo actually scoring and both of them being playful with each other, building a rapport with each other.

in episode 18, we can note that han seo is acting more and more like vincenzo (like how in the earlier episodes han seo acted like his brother). when revealing his hand in han seok's demise, he acts similar to vincenzo, leaning in and explaining how he pulled the rug from underneath his feet. we also see a new kind of boldness, a fire behind his eyes we don't see before this moment when he speaks to han seok. the same sport that was used to torment han seo has provided him the support and advice he has needed to turn his life around. i believe that having a genuine support system for the very first time has provided han seo the platform to change and grow, as well as gain confidence in himself and his abilities. in episode 19 and 20 i want to see han seo and vincenzo grow together and evolve into a relationship where both are comfortable and able to give mutual support and love to each other.

[prince-septimus]

the run-in

pairing : jason todd x detective!reader

summary : 3 times you run into the red hood, and the one time it’s jason todd

word count : 1.8k

warnings : mention of blood & violence 

“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to play with fire?”

You spin around quickly, your gun pointed at the chest of a man you had never met but had heard all too much about.

The Red Hood.

“Sounds more like something the Commissioner would tell me,” you speak calmly, but don’t move the gun away.

There are bodies lying around you – some brought down by your own hand and the others brought down by his. Groans of pain fill the air, but you know some of the men are dead.

“Commissioner Gordon—” his voice is mechanical, any real traces of what he sounds like hidden by the mask he wears, “—how is he doing these days?”

Your gaze turns into a glare. “He’s fine. Would you like me to call him up? I bet he’d love to talk to you.”

Under the dim streetlights of Gotham, the Red Hood is a startling figure. He’s almost terrifying as he stands in front of you, but in a city full of heroes and villains alike, you don’t let his imposing structure intimidate you.

“I’ve actually got places to be,” he quips, before turning his attention to one of the men lying on the ground.

They were all members of a local drug ring you had recently been trying to bust. You know the names of a few, recognized them from photos you had found, but now they were just bodies to fill the jail cells, or for some, the morgue. You had been on a stakeout, trying to find some last bits of evidence you would need to finally make the bust, but you were ambushed.

The Red Hood had appeared out of nowhere.

He kicks at the body closest to him. There’s no groan of pain. Letting out a huff of air, it’s almost masked by the static of his mask. “Looks like you have a lot of paperwork to do.”

“No thanks to you.”

His head turns. You briefly wonder what he looks like under that mask, wonder what he sounds like.

“I’ll make sure to leave a few for you next time.”

You can practically hear the smile hidden away underneath the false voice he carries with him. Finally, you drop your gun. “I’ll let the Commissioner know you say ‘hello’.”

-

“It’s not like you to sit up on roofs. That’s more of my kind of thing.”

You sigh, bringing your camera away from your face to look at the man who’s saddled up next to you. “What do you want, Red?”

“What? Can’t stop by to see how my favorite detective is doing?”

“You hate the police,” you reply flatly.

It had been a few weeks since you had last seen the Red Hood. He had popped up occasionally, always when you were working alone. You figured he had found some sort of trust in you, helping you out on the occasional case by offering information if you turned a blind eye to his criminal activities. You had a sort of trust in him too, you had decided, trusting him to never lead you on a wrong turn when it came to the leads he gave you.

You still bickered with him, though, almost treating him like an old friend rather than a deadly vigilante.

“I only hate the police that don’t do their job.” He leans against the concrete barrier surrounding the roof, the one you had been hiding behind as you spied on the gangsters in the window across the street. “That doesn’t include you.”

“I wouldn’t think you’d be here if it did.” You scroll through the photos you had taken so far on your camera, making sure you have what you need before turning to the man standing next to you. “What do you want, Red?”

“Heard your name from some of the men you’ve been scouting.” He nods toward the building. “I think you need to be a little more careful.”

“Isn’t that what I keep you around for?”

This is one of the moments where you wish you could see the face beneath the mask. You want to be able to read him, be able to know what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling. Instead, you’re forced to look at the masked man in front of you and be completely unaware as to who sits beneath it all.

“Just be careful. Keep someone with you when you’re out here doing these kinds of things.”

You shake your head, turning to bend down and grab your equipment from where it’s spread out on the roof. “I’ll be alright, Red. Now, how about you walk me home, hm?”

You stand back up, but he’s nowhere to be found, almost as if he was never there.

-

A bullet flies past your head, planting itself into the man who had been pointing his gun at you.

You don’t need to turn around to know who the bullet belongs to. Instead, you let your arms fall to your side as a huff of air falls past your lips. “I had it.”

“Sure, you did.”

He appears next to you, sliding his gun back into the holster strapped to his hip. You feel the anger rise up in you as you turn to look at him, and without thinking, you’re shoving at his chest.

“I had it!”

“I told you not to do stakeouts alone anymore—”

“You don’t get to decide what I can and cannot do.” You lower your voice, trying to calm yourself. “This is my job. I shouldn’t even be talking to you—”

“But you need my help.”

You rub your hands across your face. “I don’t need your help unless I ask for it, and I didn’t ask for it this time.”

A mechanic scoff. “You could’ve died.”

“I needed more information out of the guy.”

“You could’ve died. Do I need to keep repeating it?”

“Well, I’m fine. And now I have to find an explanation of why this guy is dead.”

“Better than finding you dead.”

Sirens sound in the distance. Someone must’ve called the cops before you ever got the chance to call it in.

“Go,” you say quickly, “get out of here so I don’t have to explain to my coworkers why I’m talking to a man they’re actively hunting.”

By the time the patrol cars arrive, spotting you with your hands raised in the air, the Red Hood is long gone.

-

The lights above you hurt your eyes. You try to lift yourself off the ground, but the pain stops you. You’re not sure where it stems from, but it’s spreading like a wildfire. Your whole body burns. It hurts to turn your head, but you manage to do so and almost let out a sob at the sight of your partner laid out on the ground.

Blood drips out of his nose, and his eyes are lifeless.

You cough, suddenly feeling like you can’t catch your breath at the realization of everything that had just happened. You had convinced your newest partner – a newer recruit, almost 30 – to do a stakeout with you. It was supposed to be a simple watch, one to get more information on one of the newer crime families in Gotham.

Instead, the two of you had been ambushed and laid out. Your partner was dead and you were close enough to it.

You don’t hear the footsteps or the panicked shout of your name until there’s a man standing over you. It’s hard to see anything but his shadow under the streetlight, but you would recognize the voice hidden beneath that mask anywhere.

“Red,” you manage to get out softly before your throat begins to burn and you’re coughing out any next words you have.

“Stay still,” he orders. He reaches for your side, his gloved hand covered in blood when he pulls it back before immediately pressing it back against your side in order to stop some of the bleeding. "You've been shot.”

You hiss at the pain that shoots through you, your eyes shutting . “Feels like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

“Hey, hey,” he pats at your cheek, “keep your eyes open for me.”

“At least I didn’t come alone.”

He looks over at the fallen body of your partner, letting out a sigh. “Look at how well that worked out for you. Where’s your phone?”

“Don’t know. Car maybe.”

“Fuck it,” he spits out, keeping one hand pressed against your gunshot wound while the other digs his own phone out of his pocket.

“What are you doing?”

You watch through blurry vision as he brings the phone up to his ear.

“Commissioner,” he speaks into the phone, quickly explaining what’s happened and where to find you. When the call ends, he looks back down at you. “Help is on its way.”

Beneath his mask, the Red Hood has a confused expression etched onto his face as he listens to the soft laugh you let out. “What are you laughing at? You’re bleeding out in an alley and you’re laughing.”

“You called the Commissioner to help me.” Your voice is broken, breathy words falling from your lips. “You’re risking the police finding you here in order to get me help. You’re doing all this, and I don’t even know your name or what you look like.”

A turn of his head towards the end of the alley, looking to see if there’s anyone watching. There’s sirens in the distance. He only has a few minutes.

With a click, he removes the helmet and tosses it next to him. His black and white streaked hair falls onto his forehead, and his face is still partially covered by the domino mask he always wore underneath, but he’s all-too-familiar even without revealing everything.

You smile. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

“I was dead.”

“And Jim knows?”

“Yes.”

You try to sit up again, attempting to ignore the pain, but Jason’s free hand finds your shoulder and holds you down.

“Don’t move. It could make it worse.”

“What’s next? Is Nightwing about to appear from the rooftop?”

Jason laughs. “We’re not exactly speaking at the moment, so I assume no.”

You shake your head as best you can. “Jason fuckin’ Todd. Back from the dead. Can’t believe I made friends with a zombie.”

“Real original.”

The sirens are closer now, too close.

Jason lets out a sigh when he hears a car door slam shut. There’s blood on your face and he reaches up to smear some of it away with his glove. “I guess that’s my cue.”

Gordon appears first, clearly keeping the other officers away to give Jason time.

You watch the two nod at each other before Jason grabs one of your hands.

“Almost there,” he tells you softly, removing his hand and placing yours over the gunshot wound in your side. “Keep pressure there, help is here.”

Jason reaches for his helmet, slipping it back on before taking off into the shadows.

You realize he never said goodbye, but as the Commissioner and the EMTs reach you, you know that you’ll see him again.

[margarethx]

The Sambucky fandom spends a lot of time and energy on calling out writers for using problematic, often straight up racist, tropes in their fics. And rightfully so, because some of said tropes are not only unplesant to read for many readers, but also harmful if they help to perpetuate some awful stereotypes. That being said... I feel like we need to show the other side of the spectrum more often and sometimes focus on people who don’t make these mistakes.

----- ------- -----

So here is my personal THANK YOU! to all the writers who have never used these offensive stereotypes in their Sambucky fanfiction and who:

1. Give as much attention to Sam’s side of the story as they give to Bucky’s and do not focus solely on Bucky’s emotions about their developing relationship when it’s a mixed POV.

2. Acknowledge Sam’s trauma and all the loss he experienced in the past (not only in the context where his pain is used to help him better connect with another person who’s hurting).

3. Show other characters (Bucky or not) helping Sam go through his more diffucult moments (bad days, nightmares, painful flashbacks).

4. Show Sam having these more difficult moments.

5. Don’t act like Bucky’s traumatic past is enough of an excuse for his unpleasant behaviour towards Sam. (E.g. they don’t write a story where Sam forgives Bucky every mean, ignorant comment without thinking, just because Bucky’s sad.)

6. Show Sam experiencing variety of emotions - not just frustration and adoration towards Bucky. Show him being sad, happy, disappointed, confused, hopeful, dejected, relieved, terrified, confident etc.

7. Show Sam being the more vulnerable one in the relationship (in general or just in cerain situations)

8. Write scenes where Sam is shy or a little awkward (about his relationship with Bucky or about something else). Also write him being insecure sometimes.

9. Write just as much about Sam’s appearance as they do about Bucky’s. (Both as a narrator and through a character’s compliments or thoughts.)

10. Mention how beautiful Sam’s eyes are... especially if there is more than one line about them. (Plus mention their colour like... at all.)

11. Describe Sam’s appearance focusing on something outside of his smile or muscles. (Not that these are not nice, but there are other things to compliment and they’re hardly ever pointed out.) (Very much including hair or skincolour.)

12. Write Sam making mistakes, but not in a way that insinuates that he’s stupid or incompetent, but in a way that shows he’s a normal person who can sometimes be wrong and own up to it. (Unless he’s the only person in the story who always messes up...)

13. Show Sam being very competent. And show Bucky appreciating Sam’s competence, skills, and knowledge in various fields. (Also write Sam being a badass.)

14. Write about Sam’s background in pararescue, his medical training, skills in combat, flexibility, speed, ability to fly, ability to fix his advanced equipment, strenght, the fact that he’s pretty stealthy etc...

15. Write about the importance of Sam’s relationship with Steve even when Steve’s past connection to Bucky is not relevant to the story at any point.

16. Write Bucky being openly grateful for all the things that Sam did for him and write Bucky helping Sam back even when Sam didn’t specifically ask, because they genuinely care about each other.

17. Write about Sam’s past as a therapist not in the context of him helping Bucky get better, but because it’s relevant to the story and it’s something he has a lot of experience with. Or simply because it’s a significant part of his previous life journey.

18. Show Sam being frustrated or angry without falling into bad stereotypes. And show why his anger was justified and he had the right to react like that, because he doesn’t have to be polite and dyplomatic about everything if other people (Bucky very much included) don’t act respectful towards him in the first place.

19. Acknowledge that Sam is AJ and Cass’s actual uncle. The kids might like Bucky, but they’ve known and loved Sam for way longer... and I rarely see that mentioned.

20. Write about Sam’s past romantic relationships without focusing only on Bucky being jealous about them.

21. Show Sam’s interactions with other characters - not just in a romantic context, but also in terms of friendships (MCU Natasha was closer to Sam than Bucky and fics rarely talk about that), professional cooperation, rivalry and so on.

22. Mention the social commentary brought up in tfatws without brushing it to the side or downplaying the importance of Sam’s race in the formation of his character and storyline.

23. Acknowledge that Sam is human and his body is not enhanced in any way... without making it sound like he’s too weak to do the job.

24. But also... write about Bucky using his super strenght to carry Sam around and to pick him up all the time (for whatever reason), because it’s cute. Sue me.

25. Point out that Sam is slightly shorter than Bucky without always making Sam weirdly insecure about it.

26. Write Sam as Bucky’s first choice... not a second option he picked for the lack of a better candidate for a boyfriend.

27. Understand that Sam has a life outside of Bucky even if their friendship and romantic relationship are obviously very important for him.

28. Write Bucky touching Sam in reassuring, delicate ways. (Holding his hands,  cupping his face, touching his hair, kissing the tip of his nose.)

29. Let Sam make harmless jokes, be charming, and be actually a nice person even when he’s not actively helping anyone. Just let him have a complex, but pleasant personality.

30. Let him be sarcastic without making him mean.

31. Add Figaro (Sam’s cat) to the stories about pets. Or show Sam’s emotional attachment to Redwing, even when it’s still a drone, not a bird.

32. Don’t forget that Riley died. And Sam’s parents died. And his close friends died. And other close friend left him without saying goodbye... etc. (Also don’t forget he himself died at one point...)

33. Mention and discuss Sam’s sexuality and romantic orientation (both in the tags to the story and in the actual text). ...I feel like it’s often unspecified for no reason while Bucky’s identity is clear from the start.

34. Give Sam little hobbys and interests that are unrelated to his work or his ability to make other people’s lives better.

35. Write about Sam’s fears and doubts while not forgetting he’s generally a very brave, mostly confident person.

36. Make the audience feel like Sam is a necessary part of the story. Not just a character added hastily at the end of writing just so the author can tag his name, because the ship he’s a part of is currently more popular than before and showind him at last minute will attract some readers to click.

and... 37. Do the things mentioned above in all of their Sambucky stories and use more than one of these ideas at a time.

----- ------- -----

To people who wrote stories with these tropes... You guys are doing a great job and I appreaciate your work a lot. It’s easy to focus on complaining, because the Sam/Bucky tag on Ao3 was always kind of a mess, but my day genuinely gets better every time I find one of your stories. So thank you again and keep it up :>

(Side note: if you have any recommendations for fics that use the ideas I wrote in this post feel free to link them in the comments. Because the bar is hanging pretty low at this point and some authors still wouldn’t be able to cross a single point from my list if they examined their - allegendly - “Sambucky” stories... so we should promote the content that is actually good.)

[aminiatureworld]

Injury

Characters: Albedo, Childe, Diluc, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,657

Warnings: Blood, injury, slight violence, minor villain death 

 Premise: Sometimes the pain of others can hurt even more than one’s own. In which the reader is injured. 

Author’s Note: Week 3 of keeping up my writing schedule let’s go! This week is a bit angsty, my forte (I think?) As usual part one – with Albedo, Childe, and Diluc – will be posted tonight and part two – Kaeya, Xiao and Zhongli – tomorrow.

At first this was going to be both your injury and your recovery but then the first character hit over 1.5k words so I guess this is going to be a pseudo-series. I really don’t know the definition of concise lol.

In the first part of my last fic I realize I gendered a word. I’m super sorry about that, and I promise to fix it and tag properly next time. Childe gets to go into the stone forest cause I say he can. I’m not sure if waypoints are diegetic or nondiegetic. I decided to make them so. Also the first hospital in China was opened in the early 1800s, and I know hospitals aren’t very “fantasy” but Teyvat has good medical science in my book.

Albedo

Throughout his life the one thing that Albedo never truly understood was peoples’ obsession with modesty, even when it was false.

There was a lot that Albedo was proud of in regards to himself; his intellect for one, his curiosity, his abilities as an alchemist, the fact that he feared little in the world. Above all perhaps was the pride he held in carrying himself without falling into hysteria, his grip on his emotions was impeccable and whenever he was unfortunate enough to see others gripped with a heavy emotion he was always left with a sour feeling in his mouth – a disgust for someone who had so little sense they couldn’t even control themselves.

This was a pride that left him quickly enough upon seeing you injured.

It wasn’t meant to be a dangerous expedition. It’d merely been a check of the vast network of caves and tunnels that could be found in Dragonspine. A route affair, mundane even in how simple it supposedly was. There was nothing to be afraid of. Albedo had told you that back at home and you’d smiled in agreement. Yes, there was nothing to be worried of, a few hilichurls at most and a temperature that could be easily kept in check with the right preparation. You’d be there and back in less than a day, no problem.

Everything, however, had gone horribly wrong. The cave that you two intended to explore turned out to be a vast network, full of tight tunnels and half submerged under freezing water. You two had managed that well enough, although once Albedo had almost slipped and fallen into the underground river, the whole outlook of the expedition was looking drearier and drearier.

Eventually you’d reached what had seemed to be the heart of the cave, floor after floor of ice with a hole in the middle, all lit up by crystal and scarlet quartz. It was an impressive sight to be sure and you’d stood a little ways away from the edge, observing the way the light refracted off the ice coated walls, waiting for Albedo to be finished with his sampling, enjoying the awesome sight in front of you.

Albedo had just finished when you’d let out a yelp. Whirling around he saw what had captured your attention – a wild snowboar who’d managed to wander in. The two of you watched the very confused creature in awe, only staring as it stomped the ground and charged right into the wall.

That was a mistake.

All of the sudden the cavern started shaking violently. Cursing the boar for its terrible – or maybe impeccable – aim the two of you sprinted towards the exit. You’d managed to gain the lead, not bogged down by Albedo’s extensive equipment, and had turned around near the beginning of the tunnel in order to help him. Just as you were heading back one of the many icicles that lined the roof of the cave came undone, landing with a sickening thud right where your collarbone met your spine.

You’d dropped like a rock, and Albedo felt his stomach to turn water and his mind turn to static, as suddenly all logic seemed to leave him, instead replaced by dread so overpowering he seemed to lose track of his surroundings, chained to the ground by something greater than himself.

You groaned and time seemed to unfreeze itself, instead accelerating at a breakneck pace. Leaping into action Albedo immediately dropped all of his equipment, the sound of glass vials shattering muffled by the cases that held them and the panic that was gripping him. Hauling you over his back he ran through the tunnels, wincing every time you made a sound and biting his tongue every time he shimmied through a particularly tight spot and it seemed it might not let the two of you pass as you were.

He could feel the blood seeping through his gloves. Your blood. Only a few minutes ago he wasn’t even sure that icicles could make one bleed. Now he wished he’d never found out, wished that he’d never asked to explore the caves of Dragonspine, wished that you’d never agreed to it. How could he have been so foolish, so blind to the dangers that waited in vast caverns of ice and snow, where the slightest wrong movement could spell your death.

Albedo could’ve cried when he sighted the camp. Indeed he might’ve, realizing that there were frozen tears on his cheeks only after you’d been taking to the medical tent. He hadn’t noticed, hadn’t noticed anything really in those terrifying moments between when you’d gotten hurt and when he’d made it to the camp. It all seemed not to exist in his mind, washed away by the emotions that had wracked his mind and body. Even now he couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t stop the tide of emotions that was crashing into him like a wave, utterly helpless as he was thrown this way and that.

The pride that he’d clung to was in tatters, and Albedo looked upon it now in disgust. He’d been so innocent, so foolish, perhaps mercifully so. But all that was gone, and his certainty had gone with it. There was nothing left of him almost; nothing except fear and anger and worry, and Albedo wondered when he might ever feel sure of everything again.

It was cloudy when you were released, arm in a sling, brace around your shoulders. Albedo wasn’t sure how much time had passed, it had seemed like an eternity. The urge to run up to you and wrap you in the tightest hug imaginable was intense, but the sight of the brace held him back. Instead he brought you hand up to his face, kissing your palm before holding it against his cheek. You smiled at that, but there was fatigue in your eyes and you said nothing. Albedo couldn’t blame you. He moved to let go and turn towards the path, somehow feeling unworthy of holding your hand after being the cause of your predicament, but you quickly grasped his hand once more. He smiled a slightly shocked smile, but made no move to let go.

As you two walked back to Mondstadt Albedo felt himself once more flooded by negative thoughts. Lowering his gaze so he was looking at the ground he paused for a moment.

“I’m sorry.”

Albedo found his voice cracking, tears welling his eyes even as he chastised himself for how stupid he must’ve looked. You were safe, you were going to be alright, the head of the clinic had said so himself. Why then did he still feel like he might crumble any minute? Shaking his head he moved to cover his face with his hand.

“Hey.” There was still fatigue in your voice, but there was also an urgency in it. You squeezed the hand you were holding, moving so you were facing him. “Hey, is it okay if you look at me?”

Albedo moved his head up slowly. He was truly crying by now, having given up all efforts to do so otherwise. You smiled softly as his eyes met yours.

“I’m alright, okay? And you shouldn’t blame yourself for this. I doubt that even the drunkest man in Monstadt could’ve guessed a wild boar would wander in a cavern and start a cave in. You can’t control fate you know.”

“I know.” Albedo forced the words out, although more and more it seemed impossible, his throat was too constricted to be anything more than barely coherent. “Still. I should’ve known. And I should’ve kept it together. I, why am I crying? Why wasn’t I in control? Why, why am I still not in control?”

“Because you’re human Albedo.” You replied, shaking your head slightly. “You’re the most wonderful human alive, but you’re still human. You mustn’t beat yourself up for what you are. I’d rather you cry anyways. There’s nothing noble in hiding your emotions, they must come out one way or another. So please, please cry all you want, long and hard. And tomorrow you can start your penance, alright?”

“Penance?” Albedo mumbled, still crying. You nodded, smile still nothing but fondness and understanding.

“Well someone’s going to have to help me for the next two months. And I know you’re too much a gentleman to make me stumble along myself.”

“Of course.” Albedo’s answer came fast and sure. He paused then, realizing that, by distracting him with the weeks to come, you’d managed to give him a pocket of time to calm himself, to feel himself once more firmly planted on the ground. Love mixed with anger and sadness in his mind, and for a moment he could only marvel at you.

Albedo leaned down to kiss you on the forehead. He’d do whatever he could to help you, this he promised himself. And this too he promised himself; you’d never ever be hurt on his watch again.

Childe

If there was anything that Childe hated it was a lack of control. The feeling of everything slipping through his fingers was something he’d felt often as a child, and that feeling had haunted him. When he’d signed up as a member of the Fatui he’d promised himself that he’d never feel that way again. He’d protect those he loved and he’d keep his life from falling apart. It was a promise he was determined to keep, no matter what.

You two had decided to go hiking. Or rather it was less of a hike and more of a rock climb. Childe had long bragged that the Huaguang Stone Forest was the most beautiful place to watch the sunset, and you’d finally gotten a free weekend. Waypointing your way there initially, your partner had taken an almost childlike joy from choosing which mountain was the highest.

“Childe have you decided yet? The sun is almost at the horizon.” You called out at the Harbinger. Childe was, much to your dismay, the stronger climber, and had taken to scouting ahead of time to see if the spot you were climbing to was any good. Now he glanced down at you, mischief written all over his face, his smirk flashier than usual. He put his hand on his chin and looked outward once more.

“Hmm… I don’t know…”

“Childe!” You exclaimed, your arms slightly killing you. You really wish that you’d convinced Childe to bring a roped and belay. Unfortunately that request had been met with a whine and an accusation of “that’s cheating!” You’d laughed it off at the time, but now you were starting to regret your partner’s recklessness. As much as you were enjoying your time – being alone with Childe always felt intensely special and you cherished every moment of it – you were also impatient to actually watch the sunset, and in your hurry you wondered if it might not be faster to climb back down and watch from the bridge.

“I do believe that we’ve found the tallest one!”

“Thank the Seven.” You groaned, hurrying to get to the top. Childe chuckled, watching you scale up the mountain.

“Oh come now, I had to make sure it was perfect! Besides you looked so comfortable perched there, it almost hurt to disrupt you.”

“When I get up there I’m killing you.” You shot back, reaching towards the ledge. Still laughing Childe stuck out his hand and you moved to grab it, pushing off with your feet as much as possible, determined to make it up the mountain in the next move.

The laughter died from Childe’s lips the moment your hand missed. Instead it was replaced by fear, cold and sharp as a knife, plunging straight through his heart. Time seemed to slow down, but you were falling so fast, falling, falling, falling. Catapulting himself off the top of the mountain Childe reached out for you. In his mind he was screaming. Glide. Oh please, for the love of the Seven glide. Please, don’t fall, it’s so high up. I couldn’t bear it. Please.

Still the words were stuck in his mouth, and his throat only constricted more when you hit the bridge with a sickening thud. Releasing his own wings at the last moment he landed on the bridge too, only a few meters away from where you were now crumpled up. Running over he scooped you up. You’d managed to right yourself at the last moment in the air so that you were landing feet first, but though you’d managed to protect your head your legs dragged limply, and one was bent at an awkward angle. Looking at your mangled form, listening to you as you screamed and whimpered in pain, Child felt overwhelmed by his vast helplessness. There was nothing he could do. Burying his head in your neck he sobbed.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

The journey to Liyue was excruciating, both for you and for Childe. Although there was no external bleeding the initial adrenaline of falling had no worn off and you felt every jolt and movement as Childe slung you on his back, wrapping his arms around your thighs and carrying you to the nearest waypoint and then to the Liyue doctor. Even when Childe was standing still you thought you might die from the sheer pain. So intense it was that sometimes you gave up, blacking out only to wake up feeling like you were drowning, the burning air around you almost too hot and too heavy to breathe.

Childe willed himself to numbness throughout the journey, only allowing him to collapse once you’d reached the hospital, practically ramming into the nearest chair in the waiting room, the situation washing over him.

How could he have let this happen? Hadn’t he made a promise? A promise that he’d protect those he’d love, that he’d never lose control of a situation again, that he’d never let those he cared about suffer? Where was that promise now? His whole world seemed to collapse in on itself now. He hadn’t been able to protect you. Despite his training, his reflexes, his vision, his everything. You’d still fallen. And as powerful as Childe liked to think he was, he still couldn’t turn back time and stop your suffering.

Finally the doctor opened the door and Childe was let in to see you. After informing him that you were on painkillers the doctor left you two alone. Faced with you laying on the hospital bed Childe sank into the nearest chair. Lacing his fingers through yours he drew circles on your hand over and over. For a moment you two said nothing, then Childe let his head rest on your hands. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, voice raw.

“I know.” You replied, mind a bit hazy from the painkillers, the magic infused herbs luring you to sleep. Still you pushed forward, needing to say something before Childe let himself be carried away. “I know, but it’s not your fault. And it’s not irreversible. The doctor says in 8 weeks I’ll be fine. Until then, we’ll just have to improvise.”

“But what about your adventuring? Your commissions? How can you do those if you can’t –”

“I’ll figure it out. Adventuring isn’t just monster slaying you know. And there’s no catastrophe in being in a wheelchair or on crutches.” You shook your head. Childe was still crying, and you could feel his tears running down your linked hands.

“Ajax.” Childe’s head shot up, surprised. He loved when you called him by his true name, it always seemed like a song falling from your lips. And now that song was filled with understanding, if not a bit of sadness. “I want you to not blame yourself.” You continued. “I know it’ll be hard, I know that these feelings won’t go away. And I’m not blaming you for them. I’m not happy about this either, of course I’m not, I just went through a world of pain. But I won’t be able to stand watching you beat yourself up for 8 weeks, I won’t be able to stand that look in your eyes every time you look at me. So please, please stop. If not for yourself then for me.”

Childe stared at your for a while. You waited, not wanting to rush his thought process. Eventually though he shook his head, a small smile finally breaking his expression.

“You’re too good for me you know. Alright. I promise to try. It’s the least I could do.”

“Thank you.” You smiled. Childe smiled back. He didn’t know how you managed to do it, how you managed to take his fears and look them in the face. All he knew at that moment was that he loved you. And for now, that was enough.

 Diluc

Diluc stared in horror as the Fatui Bracer aimed a Geo projectile right at you, his horror multiplying into rage and terror as the concentrated energy flew through the air and landed right at the base of your ribcage. You crumpled at the impact, wheezing heavily, apparently stunned from the power and speed of the attack.

How could this have happened? Diluc knew that the Fatui were gathering in Mondstadt, something that the winery owner turned Darknight Hero couldn’t stand. But never did he think to see Fatui skirmishers right outside the walls of Monstadt, strolling along the beach of Cider Lake as if it were Snezhnaya. Never did he think he’d have to see another loved one felled by a member of the Fatui, and never did he think that he could bear the emotions coursing through him now.

He made quick work of the Bracer, hacking and swinging without rhyme or reason, barely able to comprehend what was going on. Everything felt oddly separated from him, as if he were watching through someone else’s eyes, watching as he burned through the Bracer’s shields as easily as if it were made of wax, leaving the man groaning and screaming in pain before silencing him altogether.

The feeling of separation only grew more powerful as he ran over to you. You seemed to be conscious, but your breathing was shallow and ragged, and the place where the Fatui’s attack had hit seemed mangled, one of your ribs having seemingly been broken. You were screaming, though it was hoarse and low and tired. Still if you were screaming you were alive, and at least Diluc could hold onto that.

Carrying you in his arms Diluc winced as you let out another shriek of pain. You two weren’t far from the gates of Monstadt, but every step seemed to be a thousand steps and what was surely only a few hundred meters instead felt like tens of thousands of miles.

You were going to be alright. At least the doctor had said you were going to be alright. Surely Diluc could be grateful for that? But he didn’t feel grateful, instead he felt anger and hatred welling up inside of him. He’d told himself it was no good to be an angry or hateful person, that doing so would only push you away, would only destroy the fragile bonds he’d managed to build between you and a selection of others. But still the anger and the hatred lingered, refusing to be quelled or stuffed away.

He wanted revenge. Revenge on the Fatui, on the Tsaritsa, on the uncaring world that let him be so tormented, and that so tormented the ones he loved. How could this have happened to you? You who were made of goodness, more goodness than he’d found in the world beforehand. How was this a fitting reward?

It was decided that you could stay at the Winery during the 6 grueling weeks that was to be your convalescence. Diluc said nothing on the way there. He was afraid what would happened if he opened his mouth. Already he knew his face was betraying the feelings welling within him. He didn’t need to make it worse, not now.

Arriving at the Winery Diluc carried you to his room, the nicest room there was. Up to this point you’d said nothing, and Diluc wondered if you weren’t too groggy to do so. However when you spoke up there was an urgency in your voice, one he simply couldn’t ignore.

“You’re angry. You’re trying to hide it but I know it.”

“I’m not the one in pain right now.” Came a curt reply. Diluc was looking at you with what others might’ve mistaken as a glare. Perhaps it was even that, but there was something beneath it, and you knew it ultimately wasn’t directed at you.

“I am. And I’m upset too. But I’ve accepted it. You need to accept that you’re angry too. Burying it won’t help, it’ll only make it worse you know. You have to acknowledge your emotions. You don’t have to hide them. At least not in front of me.”

The expression on Diluc’s face finally broke. The anger there was raw and palapable, but there was also something else, something he’d also buried.

“I was… terrified.” Diluc finally let out. “I was so terrified it frightened me. I… I thought I was going to lose you.”

“And you shouldn’t have to hide that either.” You prodded softly. “But I’ll be alright, I promise. So please, just be open with me and then we’ll go from there.”

Diluc nodded, finding himself unable to speak. Walking over to where you were laying down he peppered kisses all over your face, light and ethereal as butterflies.

He’d do right by you. That’s what he promised himself, after all the hiding and the pain. He’d do right by you. But he’d also not forgive the Fatui for what they’d done, and tonight when Monstadt was asleep the Darknight would be watching. And for any Snezhnayan roaming the streets and lurking in the shadows, there’d be no forgiveness.

[nyxerebus]

Unlikely Companions (Daryl Dixon x Female reader/ PLATONIC! Carl x Reader) PART 2 !

Part 1: Unlikely Companions 1

here it is! Part 2. its a bit shorter but i hope you like it! Might make a part 3 :) heheheh.

“Oh, my sweet girl. I got you, I got you” Daryl was whispering sweet nothings and comfort into her ear. “(Y/N)” She looked up when a familiar voice called out for her. Two smaller arms wrapped around her neck and she looked back into Carls eyes. He was crying as well. Daryl looked very surprised, (and a bit angry) as Carl pushed him back to hug (Y/N). “I’m sorry I left you” He sobbed out. “Its okay, really I’m fine” It was hard being convincingly fine, when she was covered in blood with her shirt, and pants ripped open, and after just crying her eyes out.

“We should head back, you need to be checked out by Hershel” Rick spoke up. All the boys nodded. Daryl stood up and helped her up. When she was standing again, she noticed how bare she was. Her entire shirt was open, and bra was pushed down a bit. Her pants were unbuttoned and showed the front of her panties. “Oi! Quit ya’ starrin’! Fuckin’ perverts!” Daryl shouted and moved so he was blocking the guys view on her. A choir of ‘sorry’ came from the guys. They turned around and let Daryl help her get dressed. “Can you get my backpack? It’s the orange by the tree?”

“Why cant you get it yourself?” It sounded harsh and mean, but she knew better. She knew that this was his way of checking if she was hurt. “Okay, promise not to freak out too much” It was a stupid question, he was going to freak out even if she told him she broke her nail to hard. He nodded. “One of the guys might have stabbed me in the thigh, just a little bit though!”

“What!”

“You promised not to freak out!” She huffed out and moved her hand, that had been covering her wound. Blood was covering her hand. It didn’t really hurt, and she hadn’t noticed it until they stood up, that was mostly because adrenaline was still pumping through her body. She knew that when that died down, her bruises and wounds would hurt like a bitch. “Sit back down” He, carefully, pushed her down again and walked over to her bag. When he handed it to her she had buttoned up her pants. She fished out an hoodie. “Can the others see me?” She asked him, nervous about a group of strangers seeing her half naked. “Nah, I would beat’ them down’ if they peaked. Don’t ya’ worry’” He still stood in front of her and shielded her body. He looked back to make sure they weren’t looking, and yeah. They wouldn’t dare. But when his head turned back to her, his heart broke. She had taken of her ruined shirt and was about to put on her hoodie. But her soft skin was littered in bruises and scars, bruises and scars that weren’t there when they last saw each other.

He was going ask about the bruises, but she quickly covered the body with her hoodie, or more accurately, his hoodie. A smirked made it way on his (gorgeous) lips. The hoodie reached her down to her knees. “Come on, lets get you checked out”. He threw her bag across his shoulder, with his crossbow. (Y/N) was getting up, winching when she put her weight on her injured thigh. A gasp escaped her lips when she felt his arms wrap up under her thighs and behind her back, hoisting her up into a bridal style carry. (Y/N) didn’t protest and just let him do his thing, she knew he needed to take care of her.

When they got out of the forest, she saw a beautiful farm house with large acres. They walked over to the farm house. “Hey” She looked down and was met with Carl looking up at her. “Hey big man” He didn’t say anything else, just walked by her. “Carl!” Lori shouted and ran up to him. She hugged him and reached for Rick, “What happened?” When her eyes landed at (Y/N), “Who is that?”

“Hey, I’m (Y/N). Me and Carl have been camping together for- Will you please let me talk to her?” Daryl didn’t let her stay and chit chat with Lori. He walked straight pass her and into the house. “Nope, ya gotta get some medical help. Ya can talk later”. (Y/N) wayed back with an apologetic smile, to the very confused group of people. “Hershel! Where ya at!”. And old man walked out of what she assumed was the kitchen. He had an very annoyed look, until he saw her. “Who is this?”

“My girl, and she needs your treatment” Daryl didn’t let him answer and just walked into the room Carl had been staying inn when he got shot and laid her down on the bed. Hershel realized the importance of it when he saw blood on her hands and pants and the beginning of a huge bruise on her collar. “What happened”.

“Some assholes attacked her, she got stabbed and god knows what” Daryl gruffed out. “Where is the wound?” Hershel calmly asked, getting some equipment from a drawer. “On her thigh”

“Luckily that limits the damage, none of your organs are compromised” He sat down on a chair by the bed. Daryl was standing on the other side, holding her hand. “Now I am going to have to cut off your pants, pushing them down will only worsen the injury I’m afraid” She nodded, letting him do what ever just to heal her. Hershel carefully gut open her pants. Daryl didn’t like him having a knife so close too her skin, but bit back his complaints and worries. The stitching up went fine, though Daryl needed to hold her thigh down so she wasn’t squirming to much.

Even with the pain killers, her wound hurt, it hurt a lot! After the stitching, he had examined her head, concluding she had a concussion and a broken rib. Daryl had held her hand through the entire time. Never letting go. The darkness had reached the farm and Daryl and (Y/N) was huddled around a small campfire. She was laying in his arm crook, his arms and a blanket wrapped around her. It was silent between them, few words exchanged. But he would often place a kiss on her head and rub her arms and hands.

They only got a few minutes alone, until most of the group came and sat around the campfire with them. “Sorry, we wanted to let you guys have some time together, but we needed to ask you some question and get to know you a bit” Rick sat on the opposite side of them. Carl and Lori on either side of him. “I get that, I do! I’m an open book, ask away!” She wanted to seem as warm and welcoming as possible, knowing that Daryl was staring daggers at everyone of them. He pulled her closer and wrapped his arms tighter around her, almost using his arms to protect her.

“Before you all interrogate her, I just wanna thank you. Carl told me everything, and, and you saved his life” Lori was tearing up. “I want to thank you for saving him and taking care of him. For returning him back to us. Thank you” Rick nodded along, saying a thank you as well. “Can I ask a question?” Glenn was speaking up now. “I don’t mean to be rude, but how are you together? You are so, different!” This made her chuckle. It was true, they were very different. “Well, we met at the diner I was working at, and I don’t know. We just kind of clicked” She looked up at Daryl, smiling up at him. “For me it was love at first sight”.

As the night continued, (Y/N) answered all their questions and asked her own. Even though she couldn’t talk to Carl alone, she sent him some smiles through the conversation. He would always grin back. But she felt her eyelids becoming heavier and heavier. For the first time since the new world begin, she could sleep peacefully. She was never afraid when Daryl was holding her.

“Shhhh, (Y/N) is sleeping” Carl hushed everyone when they got a bit louder. They all looed over at her and sure enough, there she was; looking like an angel. “She didn’t sleep much when we were out, never more than three hours”

“Reckless woman” Daryl muttered out, wrapping the poncho tighter around her. He saw her shivering and saw the campfire dying down. “I’ll go get more wood” He didn’t allow anyone say anything, he just carefully lied her down (using his west as a pillow and slipped it under her head).

When Daryl disappears into the darkness, whimpering filled the camp. “Is she having a nightmare?” Lori asked. “N-no, get away” (Y/N)’s sleepy voice whispered out. “Should we go and get Daryl-” Carl stood up and walked over to her. “She did this last night, I can stop it” Everybody looked at Carl confused, and Lori felt her motherly protective side kick inn when Carl laid down next to (YN). She had to remind herself that too Carl she wasn’t a stranger and wasn’t a threat to any of them.

“What are you doing?” Rick whispered out, being very surprised when Carl threw his arms around her waist and snuggled into her back. Her whimpering slowly calmed down and eventually died down. No body could deny the sweetness of the moment between the two, it was clearly Carl had become very attached to her after their days in the woods.

“Oi! The hell is going on here” The sweet moment was cut short when Daryl retuned. He eyed Carl suspiciously as he stirred in the fire and added more wood planks. “She had a nightmare” Carl’s voice was muffled with her back. “I calmed her down”. Daryl felt his heart shouting at him, shouting for him to hold her and make sure she was okay. But there was something in the way, or more someone.

“Move kid” Daryl kicked at his feet, becoming tired of the child separating him from his love. Carl refused, snuggling even further into her back. Daryl was about to pull him off her when she turned around. She was still asleep but wrapped her arms around Carl and pulled her into him. Carl looked surprised but allowed her to pull him closer. Daryl huffed out but sat down next to her. His hands could not keep off of her and caressed her arm and back.

“Its getting late, we should head to bed. Como on carl” Fake snores could be heard from the young boy, hoping he could stay here if they thought he was sleeping. It didn’t work. “Nooooo” Rick pulled him up and carried him off, not without getting an ear full of complaint from the young boy. The incident woke her up, she looked around startled. Forgetting where she was. She sat up abruptly fearing the worst when she felt Carl being pulled away from her arms, reaching for her bow. “Its alright (Y/N), yar safe” Daryl reminded her that she was safe, no longer in the woods. She sank back down into his arms. “Go back to sleep baby, your safe” He reassured her and rubbed her back, calming her down, but she couldn’t sleep. Her body was so used to only three- or four-hours naps.

They both walked back to his tent, the wind picking up and they needed ‘walls’ to protect them from the cold winds. It was pretty small, so they had to huddle close together to fit on the small cot. She was practically laying on top of him (not that any of them mind). “God, I still can’t believe you’re here” Daryl whispered into the darkness. Her head was laying on his chest, being lulled into sleep by his steady heartbeat. “When it started, I went to your campus. But it was a mess, I feared the worst” She could hear his voice breaking. She lifted her head. (Y/N) knew to well what he talked about. When she left it was a mess. Dead everywhere. She barely made it out herself. Still amazed that she survived that.

“Don’t think about it, think about how I’m here! Were together and I am never leaving you” She was stroking his cheek, he nuzzled into her hand. “I know, I know. But, (Y/N), baby, I need to know. What happened to you before you met Carl” He was scared to ask, scared to hear about how she got her scars and bruises. She took a deep breath and told about how it took her a week to escape her dorm. Because the halls were filled with the dead, she was alone, starving, until she finally broke out. It costed her a lot, having too run through broken glass, and being pushed and pull by hundreds of hundreds of hands. Tears welled up in her eyes at the memory of having too drive her knifes and arrows into her friends and teachers. “Come her’ sweet girl” Daryl pulled her square against his chest. Rubbing her back. “It felt good to take care of Carl” She admitted. “To take care of someone and not being forced to kill was good” She would often take care of those around her, taking a motherly role. Daryl knew this, remembering how she would often pack him lunch, make sure he slept and getting him to take care of her.

“But when those guys attacked us” She held back a sob. “I was so scared Daryl. They held me down, a-and” she couldn’t finish the sentence. Daryl pulled her even closer, anger building up at the memory of finding them holding his girl down. “If you hadn’t come, if they had caught up to Carl, god, I cant think of what would have happened if they had gotten us both” Tears were rolling down her face.

“baby, we can’t thin’ too much about’ it. It will drive us’ crazy” Daryl could not stand the thought about what would have happened. “We need to sleep” He needed her to sleep. “I cant” He looked down at her questioning. She didn’t meet his gaze. “I’m afraid” His heart broke for the tenth time that day. “Ya need to sleep’, Carl told me ya’ haven’t slept good- so I will stay up and watch out, okay?” She was hesitant but agreed. Feeling safer knowing that he was watching over her, that’s how she was able to fall asleep at the fire.

“I will stay up for ya, stay up forever if I have to”

[talesofstyles]

Stitches and Pucks

i swear i tried writing the whole fic from the 3rd and 2nd pov in the beginning but hockey harry is so dang loud he’s like hang on honey this is MY story so let me tell this one ☠️ so here we are. i had loads of fun getting inside his head though, i hope you like it!

massive thank you to my biggest cheerleader @smokeinherperfume 🥺💛 and ken i’m so sorry for making you read an LA Kings fic 😂 @emotionally-imbruised

warning: smut. there’s no actual bow chicka wow wow stuff though but there’s some thigh riding 👀

[17k]

Harry

I swear I’m gonna kill Zayn.

That fucker just slammed my face into the boards, and as I’m trying to push back while flexing my jaw because that’s the right thing to do when you’ve got your face smashed into the boards, he tries to push me back again. Well, not a fucking chance. I give a particularly hard push back to get him off my back and I’m able to free my stick from the boards and put the blade to ice.

Because we’re playing on home ice here at Staples Center and I know its speed and consistency like the back of my hand, it takes nothing but a short tap on the puck and it shoots back between both of our legs. We scrabble, throwing elbows and shoulders and even kicking at it with our skates to expel it out. It’s a hard-fought battle, probably not lasting more than a few seconds, but it’s starting to wind me up because fuck if I’m gonna let them score. We’re up 4-2 against The Sharks, and with only under six minutes left to play in the game, I’d like to keep it that way.

I really don’t see it coming. And as much as we hate each other’s guts, it probably wasn’t even intentional, but it still hurts like a mother when Zayn’s stick pops upward, the end catching me just above my left eyebrow. I don’t feel any pain at first, but red, blurred vision definitely lets me know I’ve got blood streaming down my face. The ref blows the whistle and the play stops as the penalty is called.

The pain hits me next, and I bend over at the waist, my clear eye watching as a stream of blood hits the ice and freezes. In just about a few seconds, I feel a towel covering the cut and I hear the new team doctor say, “alright… let’s get you off the ice.”

Her hand stays steady at my back as I lift up straight, taking the towel in my own hand to hold it in place. The doctor walks alongside me while I skate to the bench, which has an exit door on one end that will lead back to the locker room. A few of my teammates slap me on the shoulder as I walk past. Harvey, who plays the same position as me but on the second-line yells out, “get stitched up so you can come back out and kick his pansy ass.”

I can’t help but chuckle, because that’s exactly what I plan to do.

“Up on the table,” the doctor says briskly and I watch with my one good eye as she quickly starts preparing the necessary supplies. I hop up onto the table, and in just under four minutes, my very own Doctor McSteamy has my injury evaluated, lidocaine injected, and is now closing the cut with stitches.

Good grief, she’s a fucking vision. Has a slammin’ body too, which no doubt would feel fucking fantastic underneath me. She probably doesn’t even realise it, but she’s got her little tongue sticking out the side of her mouth and I bet that’s something she does when she’s trying to concentrate on what she’s doing. I can feel my dick starting to twitch, so I close my eyes and get my mind out of the gutter before I get a hard-on. Fucking embarrassing.

When I’m sure I’ve got my downstairs head situation under control, I open my eyes again. She’s placing what I’m guessing the last suture on the cut and I make sure I put on my most dazzling smile as I look at her because I can be devastatingly charming when I want to be.

“Hey Doc,” I lean a bit closer to her when she’s done and murmur, “you should let me cook you dinner at my place tonight. You know, as a thank you.”

“No, thank you,” she replies without even looking towards me, preferring to busy herself with putting away the supplies that she used to tend to my cut. “I was just doing my job.”

“Alright then, no dinner at my place tonight,” I say with a sly smile. “But how about giving me your number so I can take you out sometime?”

She snorts in reply. “I’m not one of your puck bunnies.”

“No, you’re not,” I smirk at her. My tone is matter-of-fact when I add, “you’re one hot doctor.”

Not sure what I’m expecting, but this is definitely not it. Most women would blush and drop their knickers in an instant when I give them the tiniest bit of my attention, let alone a compliment, and let’s just say that’s why my bed is rarely empty. But it seems like my charms don’t work on this doctor since all I get is a fucking eye-roll.

“Are you always this forward?” She asks, still not looking at me.

“I’m a simple man, Doc,” I tell her with a shrug. “I see something I like, I go and get it.”

“Good for you,” she says dismissively, but I don’t miss the hint of amusement in her tone.

“Does that mean I get your number?”

She lets out a chuckle and finally turns to look at me. “That means I like your way of thinking.”

“So, no number?” I pout like a damn child, and apparently, the sight is hilarious to her. She throws her head back and laughs, and when she looks back to me, I get a wink.

“Sorry sunshine,” she smirks at me and I can’t help but ogle at her lips.

Perfect fucking lips.

“I don’t shit where I eat,” she adds.

Now, this is funny, so this time I’m the one tipping my head back laughing before I bring my gaze back to her. “You know our General Manager, Sloane Knightley?”

“Of course,” she replies, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“She’s with Alex, right-winger,” I tell her with a grin. “Now, Brynne Adams, have you met her yet?”

“The Athletic Trainer?”

“That’s the one, and she’s dating Matt, left-winger.”

“What?” Her jaw drops and it’s the cutest fucking sight. I’ve always thought of myself as a tits-man, but apparently now I’m a jaws-man too.

“Oh I’m not done yet,” I smirk at her. “Sarah Jones, Head of Equipment Manager, do you know her?”

She nods. “I’ve met her twice.”

“She’s with Mitch, right defenseman. Now, you probably haven’t met this one yet, but our goalie, Adam, is the only one married between us first-line players. His wife, Rachel, is the head of our in-house legal team. So look around Doc, everyone’s bloody shitting and eating around here,” I finish with a grin.

“Yeah, that doesn’t change a thing,” she insists. “That won’t be me.”

I give her one last glance as I hop off the table before I walk towards the door, pretty sure my eyes glitter with mischief as I say, “yeah, we’ll see, sunshine.”

—

The Owner’s Box is a local sports bar in El Segundo. Located only a stone’s throw away from the team’s practice facility at Toyota Sports Center, it has become the go-to hangout for a lot of the players ever since the facility opened in 2000. I like this place because it carries 140 types of beer and I like beer, and honestly the food is great as well.

As much as we like to mix and mingle with the fans, which is super fucking cool in my opinion, the manager always ropes off an area on the second floor for the players so we can drink and chill out without fans swamping us. Usually when we arrive, we’ll hang around the first-floor bar area for a bit to give the fans an opportunity to take pictures and ask for autographs before we head upstairs.

It’s always crowded after the game because everyone knows they can find us here, but it always gets extra busy whenever we win. Tonight, there’s an actual line of people waiting to get inside.

I nod at a bouncer and enter, and it takes me a good half an hour to make it to the second floor where I find several of my teammates sitting at some of the tables or standing around talking.

Winding around tables, teammates, and hot women since several puck bunnies have been allowed to go up the second floor and are doing their best to get noticed by the players wearing outfits that fit them like a second skin, I make my way over to Alex and Matt who are already sitting at one of the tables nursing their beers. Those two are my best friends since we’re linemates, but normally I’d go stand over with the single guys and start my selection process for whatever woman who’d warm my bed for the night.

Not tonight though. Never thought this day would come but I’m not here for a hookup tonight.

Alex gives me a knowing grin as I sit down since I told him in the locker room after the game about my exchange with the hot doctor earlier when she tended to my cut and how she turned me down. Well, he and several other of my teammates since there were a few there in the locker room with us and they had ears to listen. I’m pretty sure I could even hear Mitch chuckle, which is honestly one of the world’s seven wonders since the guy barely talks let alone laughs.

“How’s that cut feeling?” Matt asks as I take a seat in front of him.

“Feels like a butterfly kissed me there,” I tell him, which gets a deep belly laugh from both him and Alex. We hockey players would never admit to being hurt in a fight. Ever.

The voices in the second floor immediately go silent and I see all eyes swing towards the stairs, and when I look there I see our General Manager walks in alongside Coach Higgins, followed by some staff of the team. Cheers start ringing as she walks towards our table, no doubt to sit next to her man, and then I hear a low chant, “Sloane! Sloane! Sloane! Sloane!”

Matt and I do the same since not only Sloane is more of a close friend rather than a boss who signs our paycheck once she steps outside of the GM office, but as the only female GM in the league, she managed to turn our team into champions. We won the Stanley Cup last season and no doubt she’s going to push us to victory again this season. Alex has a shit-eating grin plastered across his face as his gaze focuses on his girl, looking so damn proud of her. Man, my best friend is fucking whipped.

Sloane blushes, slides a grin to Alex, and when the sound dissipates and the guys all start sitting back down, she says, “shut up you big jerks, do you want me to cry?”

We all bark in laughter.

I stand up to give her access to the booth so she can sit between Alex and I, and Alex immediately wraps his arm around her shoulders when she’s within his reach to pull her closer to him and proceeds to give her a searing kiss. I whip my head at Matt and we both make a fake gagging noise.

“God, I think I’m going to be sick,” Matt says and Alex flips him off, still giving his woman a hell of a kiss and without even looking at us.

“I know, right? Not used to you being so fucking mushy mate,” I add. “Gives me the willies.”

Sloane laughs as she breaks the kiss. She leans over and playfully punches me in the arm. “You’ll have a good woman one day, Harry.”

“Yeah,” I drawl, then I give a faux shudder to make sure they understand I like being single. “No thanks.”

“You sure?” Matt cocks an eyebrow, but before I can reply, something behind me catches his attention. “Ooh, isn’t that the new doctor?”

I whip around so fast I fucking knock a bottle of ketchup off the table and it goes flying across the floor. Matt is laughing so damn hard he almost falls off from the booth, Alex is leaning over as he laughs, pressing one palm down on the sofa with the other to his ribs as if they hurt from laughing and Sloane is dabbing at her eyes as she laughs hysterically.

But yes, holy shit, that’s the doctor stepping off the stairs and onto the second floor with Brynne and Sarah. Now, I know Brynne will most definitely walk towards our table since Matt is here, but Sarah will most definitely walk towards the bar where Mitch is talking with some other guys.

Come here. Come here. Come here.

Fuck, she goes with Sarah to the bar.

“Oh no,” Alex says low and in warning. “I know that look.”

I don’t bother to give him my attention, keeping my eyes pinned on my girl. But I do ask him, “what look?”

“Your gaze just became predatory,” he says with a laugh.

“God, you have it bad for her,” Sloane teases but I ignore her as I stand up. Brynne gives me a wink when I walk past her and now I have a suspicion that my teammates blabbed to their women about what happened earlier tonight and now they’re trying to set me and the hot doctor up. Otherwise, why would she even be here? Fucking crazy, I know, but they’re all nuts.

“Go get her, tiger!” Matt quips as I walk towards the bar without looking back at their table.

The doctor has ditched the white lab coat that she wore earlier tonight at the arena, and I’m glad she has her back to me since I don’t make a secret of my ogling. My eyes are pinned to her ass in those skinny jeans and fucks sake I need to get a grip.

“Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine,” I say with a smile as I stand next to her, trying to get her attention. That was lame, I know, and I feel like I want to punch myself for not being cool.

She laughs and fuck if that’s not the best sound in the world. It’s warm, rich, and husky, which warms my blood and speaks to my dick for some reason. Not sure if she’s laughing because she genuinely thinks I’m funny or is that just a pity laugh, but honestly I could listen to her laughing all day. Wouldn’t be opposed to hearing her moan one day, preferably with her underneath me, but if her laugh is all I can get at this moment then I’ll take it.

“Can I get you a drink?” I ask her and I mentally prepare myself for her to decline since she turned me down earlier in the arena, so it totally takes me by surprise when she only shrugs and says, “eh, why not.”

I’m sure my smile is ten times wider and she sees it. “What’s your poison?”

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“What if I want the hard stuff?” I raise a single brow. “Sure you want that?”

“What?” She smirks at me and my inner caveman is screaming for me at the sight to just throw her over my shoulder and take her home right this instant. But obviously I won’t do that, since I’m pretty sure that’s called kidnapping and I know I won’t look good in prison stripes. “You don’t think I can take it?”

“Oh honey, I know you can take it,” I laugh as I lift my finger to the bartender. “I’m only wondering how you’ll handle it.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to wait and see.”

—

It’s three hours and many beers later, well for her anyway since I limit myself at two because I’m driving, and we’re stumbling out of the bar, laughing our asses off.

She’s telling me about the funniest thing that happened at the hospital a few months ago. At the beginning they thought they had a domestic situation because the couple came separately; one via ambulance and one via police car. But when they finally got the whole story, it turned out to be an anniversary celebration gone wrong since the wife had a seizure when she was going down on her husband and bit down on him.

“Are you joking?!” I stare at her, mouth gaping in astonishment before I burst out laughing hysterically.

She shakes her head and laughs with me. “I wish.”

“Did you manage to save his manhood?” I ask with a half-grin and half grimace.

“My colleague did,” she replies. “I was busy with the wife, she had rather extensive head trauma.”

“From the seizure?”

“Well, in panic and pain, her husband didn’t think much and just grabbed the closest thing he could find to try to get her to loosen her bite, which sadly was an old rotary style telephone and hit her in the head with it. She was okay in the end, though.”

“That’s one hell of an anniversary to remember for sure,” I chuckle, and the giggle she emits pretty much confirms she’s bladdered. Well, not the kind of drunk where she wouldn’t remember tonight I’m sure, but I bet she’ll wake up with a massive headache.

“I sure hope you’re not driving,” I say as I steady her by the elbow when she wobbles as we step down the stairs.

“Sarah, Brynne and I took an Uber here from the arena earlier,” she mutters as she pulls out her phone from her handbag.

“Let me drive you home,” I quickly say before she gets the chance to order a ride. Not sure why I did that because I certainly have never offered women a ride home without the promise of getting in their knickers, and I can assure you that I won’t be getting anywhere near hers tonight, but maybe I just don’t want this night to end yet.

We’ve been glued at the hip from the moment I bought her first drink, and three hours purely just talking with the same woman? That’s a record in my book. While I’m not ashamed to admit that I also like looking at her, honestly, to me that’s just an added bonus. I think it’s safe to say that I have never met anyone like her before. Granted, with most women usually there wasn’t much talking, but from what I learnt in just the span of three hours is that this doctor of mine is a hell of a lot of fun.

I swear she’s just a pure fucking joy to be around. Conversation with her is like a never-ending merry-go-round and she makes me laugh a lot. She’s bright and witty and she’s one of those people that knows no strangers. She can easily talk about anything from politics to sports even to crude jokes, and add on to that, she’s just so kind and inclusive that several times tonight I actually had to drag her away to one of the back tables so we could have a proper chat without the crowd around us.

“You don’t have to,” she gives me a hesitantly sweet smile.

“But I want to,” I gallantly insist as I turn and offer my arm to her. “Come on, I just want to make sure you get home safe.”

“Well, alright then,” she smirks, her hand easily slides into the crook of my elbow. “I could save a few bucks.”

I roll my eyes and tease her, “didn’t take you to be such a skinflint.”

“Hey!” She playfully slaps my arm with her other hand as she laughs and I’m glad I amuse her.

No, seriously... I like her laugh.

There’s no doubt that she wants me, just as there’s no doubt that I totally want her. We’ve got this really heavy flirting going on all night, and plenty of innuendo, but I won’t be surprised nor disappointed if she doesn’t invite me inside when we get to her home and nothing happens tonight.

We’ll get there, I’m sure.

Until then, I’m completely fine drinking beer, being her personal chauffeur, and getting to know her a little better.

—

We always finish team practice with battle drills. From the end zone face-off spot to either the left or right of the goalie, we pair up and battle for a goal. One on offense, the other on defense, we shoulder, bump, and juke our way across the short distance to the net. It’s a four to five second drill that will make us sweat, and then it’s over. We skate to the end of the line, where we wait to do it again.

“Saw you left with the new doctor last night,” says Matt, my battle partner today, with a shit-eating grin as he taps his stick against my leg. “How was she?”

I ignore his question not only because I don’t have the answer that he’s looking for because nothing really happened after I dropped her in front of her house, but also because this feels different. She is different. Had it been just another one night stand, I wouldn’t think twice before I blab all about the dirty details with my teammates. Great lays, lousy lays, I honestly have no filter and I tell them all.

But this is YN, and fuck if I know why and what this really means. All I know for sure is that I want more than to just tap that. The thing is, my teammates will probably not understand because they can’t really see past the fact that the new doctor is a gorgeous woman who I’ve been lusting after for about a week.

“Dude,” Matt says to get a reaction from me, smacking me a little bit harder with his stick. “How many times did you score her last night?”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” I growl.

“Whoa, dude,” he apologises and I swear his grin gets even wider. “Sorry. I guess you’re serious about her?”

“Serious about what?” Alex pipes up from in front of us. He’s paired with Adam, our goalie. There are four pairs of skaters in front of Matt and me, but there’s an equal number on the other side. We’re alternating.

“None of your fucking business,” I mutter, willing the line we’re in to go faster so I can escape from my nosy teammates and head to the doctor’s office.

Alex and Adam take off, Alex with the puck. They ram their shoulders into each other, legs braced and skates digging hard all the way to the net.

“Did you at least kiss her?” Matt nudges me with a sly grin, still trying. Man, he’s not a quitter.

“No,” I answer shortly, hoping that will satisfy him. “Just dropped her at her house and left after I made sure she got inside safely.”

“No. Fucking. Way,” he quips dramatically. “Who are you and what have you done to my teammate?”

Play continues, the next set of skaters in our line taking off and I ignore Matt but apparently he’s not done poking his nose in my business. “Oh, we’re not done yet buddy. Let’s go out tonight so we can squeeze some more gos out of you. Just you, Alex and I, how does that sound? Brynne said the girls are going to have a girls night out so I know he’ll be game.”

The girls means my teammates’ better halves, and honestly, hanging out with just my bros does sound good. Don’t get me wrong, those girls are cool—yes, my boss, Sloane, included—and they’re fun to hang out with. My teammates sure hit the jackpots with their women. But before Sloane and Brynne came along, the three of us were thick as thieves. There was a time where we went out almost every night and that’s why we’re more like brothers than teammates. Sometimes I miss that since we don’t get the chance to do it as often now that they act like old married couples, so yes, this does sound nice.

However, as tempting as it sounds, I want to hang out with my hot doctor more than my mates. That is if she’ll have me though.

“I can’t,” I say, clearing my throat. I lean in towards him and whisper, “I want to take YN out to dinner tonight.”

“Seriously,” he drawls dramatically. “Who are you and what have you done to my best friend?”

Again, I ignore his comment.

“Alright, I guess that’s a definite no to dinner with me and Alex then, huh?” Matt says in an exaggeratedly glum tone.

“The doctor is way prettier than you,” I reply blandly.

“Fine, go on your date,” he says with a slap on my back. “But I want to book some time with my best friend in the near future if it’s not too much trouble.”

“We’re going on a four day road trip in two weeks,” I mutter as I roll my eyes at him. “I’ll snuggle you then.”

Matt sidles up to me, lays his head on my shoulder, and bats his eyelashes. “Oooh, I can’t wait.”

I shove him off with a chuckle. That bastard.

—

“Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope,” I say after two knocks on her office door. I can hear her chuckle as she tells me to come in.

God, I have turned into such a dork. But I like hearing her laugh and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to hear that sound again and again.

“Hey,” she smiles at me as she looks up from her computer. “What’s wrong?”

“Knee’s a little sore,” I tell her, not feeling the slightest bit of guilt for my lie just so I can have a few moments to talk to her. “Thought you could take a look at it.”

Her brows draw inward with concern and she motions towards a table. “Did something happen?”

“Nah,” I shake my head as I hop onto the table with my legs hanging over the edge and kick off my slides. “Just came off the ice and noticed it.”

“Alright, go ahead and lie back,” she says as she turns to the sink and washes her hands. “I’m going to do some range-of-motion tests.”

I stay silent as she maneuvers my leg, trying not to focus too much on the feel of her soft hands against me or the smell of her perfume. Fuck, she smells good. Fruity and flowery. Like berries and the heart of rose and bitter wormwood, and the scent is fucking delicious.

“Do you feel any pain when I do this?” She asks with one hand on my calf, the other on my thigh as she rotates my knee.

“Not really,” I shake my head. What happens here today will go in my chart and I don’t want to call any attention to my knee.

“How about this?” She asks, rotating the opposite way.

I shake my head again. “Nope.”

The hand on my calf slides down, grasping the bottom of my foot firmly. With the other hand still holding onto my thigh, she pushes hard into my foot. “This cause any pain?”

“Nope,” I say quickly, and then add, “I think it’s nothing more than my muscles getting back in shape. But I figure some ice can’t hurt, right?”

She slowly lowers my leg and gives me a sweet smile. “Well, I don’t think anything’s loose or torn, but if you’re worried about it, I can schedule an appointment with Dr Green.”

She is the team’s orthopaedic surgeon, and hell I’m not about to do that. Talk about an unnecessary red flag. “I think it’s just a lack of conditioning. Got lazy this summer.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” I nod firmly. “I just need some ice and I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Well, alright then,” she says as she turns back to wash her hands again at the sink. “I’ll let Brynne know and have her prepare you an ice bath.”

“Oh hell no,” I quickly shake my head and grimace. “That bloody thing is pure torture and my balls will go into hibernation until next summer. Just an ice pack will do, Doc.”

She laughs again. “Okay, just an ice pack. I’ll be right back.”

She turns and heads through the door to the treatment room and I take a moment to admire her gracefulness as she moves. She looks delectable today in her scrubs, which are the typical light blue you see in the hospitals, and they hang on her tiny frame loosely. I’d actually never seen her in them before since she usually just wears normal clothes underneath her white lab coat in the arena, but I swear this might possibly be the sexiest outfit I’ve ever seen her in. I’m sure that has to do with the fact that I respect her so much as a doctor that it just heightens my attraction to her, and I can’t help but wonder if she’ll play dress-up games with me in the bedroom when the time comes. Because, well… I certainly wouldn’t mind getting a thorough exam from her.

“Here you go,” she says when she comes back. “Scoot back on the table and stretch your leg out. Keep this on for twenty minutes, then you can go.”

She places a towel over my knee, then lays the bag of ice on top.

“Thanks, Doc,” I tell her.

“Just doing my job,” she quips, and then walks back over to the box of supplies she had been unloading.

“Well, you’re very good at it,” I add and I can hear her chuckle. But I got nothing in response, so I add, “speaking about good things… I had a good time last night.”

“Did you?” She quips, still not looking at me but I can hear from her tone that she’s smiling.

“Well, yeah,” I say with a confident nod. “Didn’t you?”

“Eh, it was alright,” she smirks at me over her shoulder as she walks towards her desk.

“I want to do that again,” I tell her nonchalantly before I ask with a lopsided grin that I hope she finds charming, “will you let me take you to dinner tonight?”

“I can’t,” she shakes her head as she turns to look at me.

“Why? Got a hot date already?”

“Nah,” she chuckles. “Sarah invited me to a girls night at her place. I wasn’t gonna go because they seem like a tight-knit group and I don’t want to intrude, but Sloane came by here earlier to ask me again and she’s bribing me with tacos and margaritas, and well… I can’t say no to both.”

“Fair enough,” I laugh. “But have fun then. They’re all really nice, you’ll fit right in.”

“Thanks,” she gives me an easy smile, and I hope it’s subtle enough that she doesn’t realise this, but my breath actually hitch a little while I stare at her lips.

“How about tomorrow night then?”

“Well-” she begins, but she’s cut short when she hears her pager beeping. “Oh shit, I need to go back to the hospital. You think you’re okay there? Go to Brynne if you need something else.”

“Okay, don’t worry,” I tell her with an encouraging smile. “You go and save some lives, Doc.”

—

The arena is packed, the fans are at a fever pitch, and we’re in the midst of a fierce battle with the Anaheim Ducks. We’d taken them on in the first round of the playoffs last season, and while we swept them, they’re still a formidable opponent. Not to mention there’s a long-standing rivalry between the two teams, and add on to that, we’re in the regular season now so every win counts. The pressure is on.

As a center, I’m a shooter, not a fighter. That means I’m relied on to score, not to play defense or get tough with other players. My body is too valuable to mess it up in a slugfest, so I’m rarely enticed into a fight. Sometimes it takes everything in me to keep my cool, but I know I’ve got to trust Mitch and Marcel, our defensemen.

Just like right now. We’re late in the second period tonight, and one of the Ducks players, Jeff Azoff, is being a dick. He cross-checked me in the back, not strong enough to slam me into the boards, but it was enough to alert Mitch who’s skating right behind us.

“Do that again and I’m going to kick your ass,” I hear Mitch tell him. That guy doesn’t really talk, but he wouldn’t think twice before beating the hell out of someone if they mess with our team. He takes his job as a defenseman seriously. When he’s on the ice, nobody dares to touch his guys.

The fucker did it again, still not forceful enough for a penalty to be called, but Mitch was quick to drop his gloves and took on that Azoff guy. He kicked his ass good.

Man, I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side. Mitch is a badass. Unfortunately though, the fucker did land a lucky hit to his temple and his skin split just to the side of his eyebrow. Knowing Mitch, that will be nothing but a ten-minute trip to the treatment room where YN will stitch him up. I’m sure as hell he wouldn’t let her give him anaesthetic so he can get back on the ice as soon as possible. As I watch him skate towards the exit, I make a mental note in my head to buy him a beer tonight as a thank you.

The play resumed, and there are about forty seconds left on the clock before intermission. The Ducks are down 3-0, and they pull their goalie once they gain possession of the puck since they have nothing to lose. Luckily our stamina is stellar, so our legs are still fresh as we defend.

They pass the puck back and forth, looking for the long shot or a quick dump inside for a goal. My back is to Adam, our goalie, as I keep myself facing the action, letting my stick play loose.

The crowd’s screams escalate in tune to the clock ticking closer to zero. With a sharp flick of the wrist, the puck makes it past Alex, our right-winger, to the inside. Players crash the net, Marcel poke checks, and the biscuit shoots out towards me.

It’s a full-on breakaway as I shoot down the ice, one on one against the goalie.

Tap, tap, tap… back and forth… puck to blade of stick.

I close in on the goalie and juke left.

He goes left and I juke right.

He keeps going left, so I keep going right and flip the puck up and over his shoulder into the back of the net. The red light burns bright behind the net and the fans go wild. That was my third goal tonight, and it’s the perfect timing for intermission since there’s no way we can play with all the hats being thrown onto the ice.

It takes merely a second before I’ve got my teammates surrounding me. Alex, Matt, Marcel, Adam and Niall, one of the defensemen from the second line who’s filling in for Mitch. Pats of their gloved hands on my helmet, stick blades gently against my calves.

We skate to the gate that would lead us to our locker room. We all trudge there, taking up spots around the open space as we wait for Coach Higgins to address us. It’s what he does at the end of every period. If we play poorly, we get our asses handed to us. If we play stellar though, like tonight, he’d be effusive in his praise.

But as much as I’d love to hear nice things from the Coach, there’s nobody I want to see more than my very own Doctor McSteamy. And yes, just to put it out here since I’ve been calling the hot doctor by that nickname, I’ve got to admit that I did watch too much Grey’s Anatomy in the summer because there’s not much I could do during the off-season. My sister didn’t let me watch past season 10 though, because she said it’s not worth it.

“Need to get my knee taped,” I tell Alex on my right as I stand up. We have 17 minutes before we start the third period and I figure that should be enough time to see the Doctor and secure a date in the near future. “I’ll be right back.”

“Bullshit,” he grins and there’s a clear amusement in his eyes. “You want to see your girlfriend.”

“Shut up,” I growl.

“What’s this?” Matt asks curiously as he takes a seat next to Alex.

“Our buddy here wants to see his girlfriend,” Alex’s grin doesn’t lessen as he tilts his head at me. “Needs to get his knee taped, he said.”

“Conjugal visit in-between periods? Classy,” Matt says with a salacious grin and I glare at him. When his laughter dies down, he points out, “okay, jokes aside, that’s a shit excuse. If you really need your knee taped, you’d see Brynne and not YN.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got nothing else here,” I grumble like a stroppy child. “Can’t hit my own head just to get a cut, can I?”

“That would be outright dumb,” Alex laughs. “But come on, I’ll go to Brynne and make up something so at least you can tell the doctor that she’s busy.”

The treatment room is just down the hall from the locker, and when I get there, I notice the door is half open. I see her sitting on the little desk with her computer, so I knock lightly on the door to get her attention.

“Hey, you got a minute?” Her head swings up when she hears my voice and it takes everything in me not to just march there and kiss the fuck out of her when she offers me the sweetest smile. Crazy how much effect this woman has on me. “I need my knee taped but Brynne’s busy.”

“Sure, I was just reading the players’ medical chart,” she replies. “You were on fire out there by the way.”

“Thanks, Doc,” I smile at her.

“Skates, socks, shin pads and pants off,” she says as she walks towards the supply cabinet.

“Jock strap too?” I can’t help but smirk.

“No,” she rolls her eyes playfully as she grabs a towel and hands it to me. “Put this over your lap.”

“Do I have to?”

“Well, yeah, unless you want me to get a peek of your dick.”

“You know I wouldn’t be averse to that, Doc,” I say with a waggle of my eyebrows.

She gives me a school teacher, disapproving-type look but the slight twitch of amusement in the corner of her mouth is hard to miss. “You’re so bad.”

“You have no idea,” I grin, but she doesn’t see it because she has her back to me. She’s pulling another cabinet open to get adhesive, gauze and tape before knocking it close with her shoulder.

This is ridiculous but I’m actually a bit self-conscious of getting practically half naked in front of the hot doctor. I have absolutely no clue why and this had certainly never happened before.

I shed my gear from the waist down and she keeps her back to me until I get on the therapy table and the towel is covering my lap. She lays out her supplies on the table beside us, her slender fingers using a pair of scissors to open a new package of tape.

I take a moment to admire her as she cuts off uniform lengths of tape and attaches them to the table. She’s not in the scrubs I saw her in last week, but if you think I’d be disappointed, even just slightly, then you’d be wrong because you could put her in a burlap sack and to me she would still absolutely look edible.

Tonight, she’s rocking a mustard-yellow trouser suit with wide legs and a cross-over pleated blouse underneath her white lab coat. The crisscross swath of silk that wraps around her upper body does lovely things to her tits, and I realise I’m quite the pig to be thinking about her this way.

“Left knee?” She asks. “I’ve just finished reading your medical chart when you came in. Arthroscopic medical meniscus repair two years ago.”

“Yeah,” I nod. “Sometimes it feels a little loose. A good taping is all it needs.”

“Any soreness?” She asks as she steps up in between my legs that dangle over the table.

I shake my head and say, “nope.”

“Clicking or popping?”

“Nope.”

“Locking?” She inquires as she lifts her face up to mine.

She’s fucking close enough I can smell her minty breath. I could easily kiss her, but I’d probably get kneed in the nuts, so I just shake my head and say, “nah, just feels a little loose.”

“Okay,” she says, laying a soft pat on my thigh. It’s nothing but a move of reassurance, but fuck if I don’t feel it all the way through my gut.

She grabs her supplies and I can’t keep my eyes off her as she gets to work taping my knee. It takes merely a few minutes, and then she finishes the wrap, holding the end while taping it with the precut pieces. “There you go,” she says, stepping back.

“I’ve got something to confess. My knee was absolutely fine,” I blurt out, the words popping out of my mouth so suddenly, I’ve got no clue where they came from. Clearly my subconscious decided to overtake my sensibility and make itself known. “I came here because I wanted to see you. Thought I’d try to get your phone number and a date one last time before I give up.”

She gives a tinkling laugh. “You’re not a quitter, are you?”

“Well, no,” I reply with a grin. “So, tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at seven. How does that sound?”

“Listen,” she smiles at me sweetly as she begins, but I don’t like the sound of it. Nothing good ever comes after ‘listen’. “You’re a nice guy-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I cut her as I hold my hands up. “Don’t go with the ‘nice guy’ brush off. Clearly I’m not if you won’t give me the time of day.”

“I just don’t think we’re looking for the same thing-”

“What?” I ask incredulously.

“Look, please don’t take this the wrong way, but you seem more like the bang ‘em and leave ‘em type to me.”

“Is that really how people see me?” I ask her curiously, without an ounce of defense in my voice because there’s no point in denying that. I really don’t care what people think, but I’d like to hear her opinion.

“You’re a player, Harry,” she says with a chuckle. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. You’re young and in your prime. You should totally be sowing all your wild oats. It’s just… I’m at the point in my life where I realise that meaningless sex without something deeper isn’t very fulfilling. I don’t want that anymore.”

I feel a metaphorical light bulb goes off in my head.

I know she doesn’t mean to, but fuck, she hits me right where it hurts. She’s called that exactly right. This is something that I’ve actually realised and known for a while, especially after seeing my best mates being the happiest they’ve ever been after they found their women. There’s not an ounce of regret in what I did though, because just like my girl right here said, there’s nothing wrong with that. There was a time when burning my way through all the hot women in LA and having them take turns warming my bed had its appeal, but not anymore.

Maybe this is why I’ve been feeling unfulfilled lately. I know I’ve got a great career, more money than I could ever need in a lifetime and endless selection of gorgeous women to warm my bed every night. What more could a man possibly ask for, right? But at the end of the day, it’s just me in a monstrosity of a house that I call home.

Maybe deep down I know I don’t want it to be just me anymore.

“I think I’ve actually known that for a while, but the way you point that out, I think it’s drilled home now,” I admit as I face her.

“What do you mean?”

“That casual, meaningless sex without something deeper isn’t very fulfilling,” I say with a smile. “I mean, yes what I did was fun, but then I look at my best mates and see how happy they are with their women. Of course I rib them good because hey, that’s my job as their best mate…”

She laughs.

“...but that doesn’t mean I never look at them and think, fuck, I want that one day. Maybe the idea didn’t really appeal to me because I had never found the right person, who knows. But I swear I don’t want just sex with you. I want more. Do I know what I’m doing? Fuck, no. I haven’t even been on a proper date in years. But I do know that I genuinely want to get to know you better, Doc, that is if you give me the chance.”

She gives me a dopey smile when she asks, “you mean all that?”

“I really do,” I nod solemnly. “Now let me prove it to you. Go on a date with me.”

“Tell you what,” she begins, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “If you go back on the ice and win the game, we can go to The Owner’s Box when you’re done to celebrate just like the other night. And if you behave, I’ll give you my number this time.”

“Want me to behave, huh?” I say teasingly with a waggle of my eyebrows. “Don’t fancy a bad boy?”

“Oh I actually have it bad for bad boys,” she smirks. “My favourite character in Harry Potter is Draco Malfoy.”

“Okay, I’ve got a counter offer,” I say as my laughter dies down. “If I get MVP tonight, which I’m pretty sure I will since you said it yourself that I’m on fire tonight, you give me your number straight away after the game and let me take you out to dinner. I’m thinking seven tomorrow night.”

Another roll of those gorgeous eyes that twinkle slightly at me. “Pushy, aren’t ya?”

“Only when I want something,” I tell her with a grin. “And I want you.”

“So do you want me or do you want to go out with me?” She asks slyly, tilting her head to the side.

“You gonna kick my balls if I say both?”

“I admire honesty,” she murmurs softly in that sexy, husky voice that seems to flow through my body and straight down to my dick.

“Hey boyfriend and girlfriend,” I hear Matt chirps from the doorway and my spine stiffens involuntarily. His shit-eating grin doesn’t lessen a bit even when I give him a glare. “Hate to steal your man, Doc, but the game is starting again soon and we kinda need our favourite asshole right here.”

“You two break a leg,” she chuckles. And then as an afterthought, she adds, “just so we’re clear, I don’t mean that literally.”

—

Manhattan Beach’s high-end strip of boutiques and restaurants are hugged by the beach on one side and some of California’s most expensive real estate on the other. It’s southern end blends seamlessly into smaller Hermosa Beach, which is similarly quiet but has a tight concentration of bars and restaurants near the town’s pier that attract bar-hoppers at night and sun-bleached dropouts during the day.

The Kings players’ houses are scattered evenly across the two towns. Some of us are clustered within a block or two of several teammates; others sprinkled little more than a mile or two away. All but one of the first-line players live in Manhattan Beach though, and we can easily walk or ride a beach cruiser to everyone else’s house.

YN lives in Silver Lake, and the drive to pick her up takes me about forty minutes. I know she must make a pretty good bank being an ER doctor, not to mention that she works at two places, but her house doesn’t scream that. It’s rather tiny, I’m betting not more than seven or eight hundred square feet max, and there’s not much of a porch but on the outer edge is a hanging basket of flowers.

There’s no doorbell so I rap my knuckles on the door. Flecks of peeling paint get knocked loose and fall to the concrete porch.

“Coming,” I hear her yell from inside and I can imagine her plopping in an earring, grabbing her handbag, and wondering if she turned the curling iron off. She sounds frazzled and rushed and I can’t wait to fucking see what she looks like when she opens the door.

And there she is.

She has a black dress on, and it’s not little but it’s spectacular. The neckline of the dress skims just below her collarbone so no skin or cleavage is exposed, but it doesn’t matter because the narrow waist and flared hips, all cocooned in black is sexy as shit. The hem of her dress comes down below her knees and the dress is so well fitted that I know there has to be a slit up the back so she can walk.

“Good grief you’re a sight for sore eyes,” I mutter as I let my eyes roam down and then back up again to find her smirking at me.

She’s got an off-white clutch bag tucked under an arm, and her head is leaning to the side so she can put her last earring in, exactly as I’d imagined.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” she says, still smirking at me. I’d worn my best suit tonight in black with black shirt underneath and no tie. Glad she likes what she sees.

I step back so she can lock her door, and she turns to me as she tosses her keys in her clutch. I hold my arm out to her and ask, “ready?”

She nods and smiles as she curls her fingers in just below my biceps, then I escort her to my car.

I’m taking her to this new restaurant that both Alex and Matt recommended when I asked them last night for the finest restaurant in LA. It had been so long since the last time I took a woman out for a proper date, so I knew I needed to ask my mates and that they would have the answer. They both swore by this place called Apron, but then told me it took at least two weeks to get a reservation. Luckily though Alex had booked a table for him and Sloane tonight, and they gladly gave me the reservation. Sure I had to take a good deal of ribbing from my teammates and their women last night at the bar where we celebrated our win, but I knew it would be worth it.

The drive to the restaurant is short, only about ten minutes. And we lapse into the same easy conversation right away, just like we did the other night at The Owner’s Box. Today was my day off and I did absolutely nothing so I’ve got nothing interesting to tell, but she had plenty of exciting cases at the emergency room today, which included a toddler swallowing a penny.

“Holy shit, how did you get the coin out?” I ask her.

She laughs. “You don’t take it out. You’ve got to let the kid pass it naturally.”

“He can do that?”

“Well,” she begins. “I did take an X-ray first to make sure that it was small and could pass safely.”

“Okay, okay, okay… what’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever had to remove from a patient?” I ask her with childish curiosity.

“Honestly, I think I’ve removed everything on the surface of the earth,” she snickers. “Coke bottle, tapeworms, coins, candles, but the strangest has got to be a stuffed animal. It was a Curious George doll, and… let’s just say that he’s no longer curious.”

“You’re joking right?” I bark in laughter as I park my car. We’ve arrived and I swear that was the shortest ten minutes of my life. “I mean… who does that?!”

“I wish,” she says with a wrinkle of her nose. “You’d be surprised if you know how many weirdos out there.”

I’m still chuckling as I exit my car, then I walk over to the passenger side to get her. I hold my arm out to her, and her hand so very easily slides into the crook of my elbow.

“You don’t think I’m one of them, right?”

She gives me a playful shrug. “Well, I don’t know, you might be a weirdo... I mean, I don’t know you well enough yet.”

I give her a smart-ass smirk. “Let’s remedy that then.”

—

“How’s that one?” I ask her as I finish a mouthful of this chocolate thingy. It was a chocolate ball concoction the waiter had poured more hot chocolate over, which then melted the ball to reveal a raspberry chocolate torte inside. She had a bite, but it was too rich for her. I agree though, it was a lot of damn chocolate.

“You’ve got to try this,” she says, spearing the lemon meringue pie with her fork, top it with a little bit of pine nut ice cream and holding it over the table to me.

It’s a completely intimate move and one that I didn’t expect from her tonight. I mean, she was reluctant to go out with me in the beginning and needed some convincing, so I expected her to be reserved and cautious. But hell I’m not complaining.

I lean in and let her feed me the dessert. The flavours explode on my tongue and I think that’s the best we’ve had tonight.

I don’t normally indulge in dessert, but they all sound good so I told her we should order all the ones we like the sound of. Which was most of them except that cucumber mousse and pickle ice cream because those sound like disasters on a plate.

“Good, huh?” She asks with a smile.

“Really good,” I tell her. “I think I like that one best.”

“Finish it then,” she says as she pushes the plate towards me. “I can’t possibly take another bite. I’m stuffed to the brim.”

“Alright,” I say with a chuckle as I pull the plate closer to me. “So, when are you free again so I can take you out to another date?”

She chuckles. “We’re not even finished with this one.”

I roll my eyes at her, then I ask, “are you having a good time?”

Her smile turns dopey and I know she’s just as smitten with me as I am with her. “This is definitely the best first date I’ve ever been on.”

“If we were finished, considering how things have gone, would you go out with me again?”

“I would.”

“Good,” I say with an emphatic nod. “So, weekend or weekdays? When will it work best for you?”

—

I slow the speed on the treadmill, taking me down from a brisk run to a slow walk so I can cool down. Normally I like to run outside in the morning, but I woke up late this morning and we had a team skate scheduled at ten, so I figured I’d just do my workout afterwards at the arena.

Only a few of us actually have a gym membership outside. Most of us prefer to work out at the arena because not only is the equipment better, but we also have an abundance of teammates to work out with and that’s always nice.

I walk for about five minutes to cool down, then I turn the machine off and wipe my face with a towel. I grab my phone and water bottle and turn for the barbells, as today I’m working my chest and shoulders. Mitch and Marcel are already lifting, both defensemen who tend to focus on brute strength versus speed and stamina, so I’m not surprised they didn’t go for the treadmill. I also see Matt there, and I bet Alex will join us too after he’s done cooling down.

“Have a nice run, princess?” Marcel asks dryly as I set my stuff down near the bench press.

“I’m not the one who has to prove my manhood by how much weight I can lift,” I return with a sly grin.

“Yeah, well, your manhood is in a dry spell,” he says as he loads some weight onto the bar. Pre the hot doctor, both Marcel and I were the only single guys in the first line. He’s just as much as a player—on and off the ice—as I was, but now I gladly pass the title to him.

“Not true,” Matt quips with a grin. “He went on a date last night.”

“No shit,” Marcel turns to me in astonishment. “With who?”

Before I can even answer Alex throws a quick glance at us, flashes a shit-eating grin, and yells from the treadmill, “the new doctor.”

“But I saw you two got pretty cosy at The Owner’s Box last week,” Marcel says, as if he’s still confused as hell.

“Well yeah, she was cool, so I took her out again,” I say firmly.

“Dude, what’s wrong with you?” He blinks at me. Eyes all round and not comprehending. “You never look at the same woman twice.”

“So?” I ask, playing dumb.

“Ooh, I get it,” he says with a smirk. “Pussy that good, huh?”

“Hey,” I cut in with a warning. “I’m not there yet.”

They all suddenly stop whatever they’re doing and turn to me with raised eyebrows. Yes, Mitch included, which I’m actually quite surprised.

“Whoa, hang on,” Marcel says. “You haven’t tapped that yet?”

“You’re serious?” Matt looks at me in disbelief. “Not even last night?”

“Dude, I gave you that reservation last night to give you the opportunity,” Alex says as he walks towards us. “I was genuinely worried about your balls.”

They’re still looking at me confused, but Adam howls with laughter. “Don’t listen to these pigs. Rachel and I took it real slow at the beginning of our relationship too, and I got to tell you, the anticipation was half the fun.”

It’s true. I’m in no rush with YN because I know we’ll get there sooner or later. I can be patient when I want to be, and right now I honestly want to. I want to prove to her that when I said I wanted to get to know her, I meant her as a person and not just carnally.

I could tell that I confused her last night when I dropped her off at her doorstep after our date. I gave her nothing but a soft, brief kiss to her cheek, then told her to get inside, lock up and get some rest. Sure, she was confused for a few seconds, but the smile that I got after she realised that I really did want to take things slow was so much more than worth it.

“So you think this thing with the hot doctor is going to go the distance?” Matt asks me.

“I do,” I say confidently. I’m not dumb enough not to realise that she hasn’t fully let her guard down yet for whatever reason. Maybe she’d been badly hurt in the past, maybe it’s my past that causes her to be a little bit sceptical, I mean... let’s be honest, I was a player through and through. But that doesn’t scare me though, because I know I’m in it for the long haul. So yes, I can say it with confidence that this thing between us is going to go the distance.

“Well, if you fuck it up, I’ve got the first crack at her,” Marcel says with a salacious grin. I don’t think twice before I grab my wet towel and throw it at him. It hits him right in the face, and my teammates howl with laughter.

All this talk about her makes me want to see her again. I’ve secured a second date last night for next Wednesday since that’s when both of us will be free, but that’s still four days away and I can’t wait that long. So I pull up my phone and type out a quick text to her.

Hey, what are you doing today?

I grab my water bottle and take a slug. Before I put my water bottle down, I already got a response. I need to go and get a new bed frame. Really can’t stand this old thing anymore.

I can’t help but chuckle. She did tell me last night about her bedroom set which was apparently really old, but she couldn’t get rid of it since it’d been in the family for a few generations and her grandmother gave it to her when she bought her house.

Want some company? I quickly type.

She’s just as fast in her response. You want to go with me buy a bed frame?

Well, yeah. I’ve finished the team skate this morning and will be done with my workout soon. I’ve got nothing to do after and I want to see you. I reply.

Alright then. She texts me back within a minute. But I’m on-call though so I can be called to the hospital any time.

Doesn’t matter, I still want to see you. I text her back. When can I pick you up?

Give me half an hour.

Perfect.

—

I’ve bought three houses in my twenty-seven years of life; the one I currently live in, one in Toronto when I was still with the Leafs before I got traded to the Kings and one for my mum back in London. And yet not once have I ever gone on a furniture shopping.

Until today.

That was something I never in a million years would have dreamed to do, simply because I hated shopping with a burning passion. Hell, I didn’t even buy things for my own house because I paid the previous owner to leave everything behind. That kind of thing was honestly just something that I would have never taken the time for.

And yet, in shuffling through my memories, I really can’t remember having such a great time before. All I know is that I don’t want the day to end, and I also know that it has everything to do with the company.

I know we’ve only known each other for a few weeks, and technically we’ve only been on one date even though we saw each other quite often at the arena. But there was nothing odd when my hand would find its way to her thigh, or when she’d drape her arm across my shoulders so her fingers could play with my hair as we cruised along from one furniture shop to another. I love that we’re at ease with each other as if we’d known each other forever, not to mention that she’s also one of the easiest women I’ve had the pleasure of talking to in a long time.

Sadly though, it had to end when she was called to the hospital. Luckily, it was just in time after she chose a particular bed frame that she liked. It’s a classic canopy bed in live-edge oakwood with a brushed brass iron base, and I felt like a pig because even as we were still at the shop, I was already thinking about which ties from my collection would work best.

They offered same-day delivery since they had it in the storage, and since she was needed at the hospital, I offered to wait for the delivery at her home for her. She agreed, so she gave me her key after I dropped her at the hospital.

And here I am. Sitting on her bedroom floor trying to build this bloody nightmare because apparently they didn’t offer assembly service. I’ve been at it for an hour and a half now. Okay, no, more like an hour and ten minutes because I spent about twenty minutes fixing the sink in her en suite. I noticed the faucet was leaking, and I needed to step away from that bloody bed for a little anyway.

Now I don’t have another excuse, so I’m back on hammering one of the bazillion nails into the wood. I’m so focused on the task that I didn’t realise YN is home until I hear her chuckling as she walks into her bedroom and say, “you know, that is the kind of pounding that’s supposed to happen after you’re in the bed.”

I can’t help it. I fucking throw my head back and bust out laughing. “Sod off.”

“You don’t have to do it, that looks complicated. I’ll just hire someone to put it together tomorrow,” she says with a sweet smile. “Just get up and go sit on the couch. I just need to go to the bathroom real quick and then I’ll join you.”

“Yeah, that won’t do, Doc,” I say firmly. “I’ll still finish this bloody thing even if it kills me.”

“Stubborn,” she quips affectionately with a roll of her eyes as she heads towards her en suite.

“Smart-ass,” I reply with my eyes pinned to one of the million pieces of her bed frame, also with affection.  

“Harry?” She calls out from her en suite.

“Yeah?” I answer, when I look up, she’s leaning against the doorframe and looking at me confused.

“Am I crazy or did you actually fix my sink?” She asks with an arched eyebrow. “Because I swear the faucet still leaks a little this morning.”

“Yeah, I did,” I say with a wave of my hand. “I needed to walk away from this for a minute and when I went to your en suite, I noticed it leaked. Not a big deal though, took me only about fifteen minutes.”

“Well, good to know that if you ever quit your day job, you have a career in plumbing,” she snickers. “But seriously, you didn’t have to do that, and you certainly don’t have to finish that.”

“It’s what any boyfriend would do, Doc,” I say with a nonchalant shrug.

“You’re not my boyfriend.”

“Yes I am,” I roll my eyes. “I took you on a date last night and I’m taking you out again on Wednesday. I’m not seeing anyone else, so that means we’re dating. And technically that makes me your boyfriend.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she sputters but I can see the amusement twinkling in her eyes. “Besides… I might be seeing someone else.”

“You’re not,” I say with relative certainty.

“How did you change just like that is beyond me,” she murmurs, the appreciation in her voice evident.

I let out a chuckle. “Just get your butt in there and go chill on the couch after. I’m pretty sure I’ll be done in about half an hour, then we can order something for dinner.”

“Yes sir,” she says with a mock salute, which makes me snort.

—

An hour later, her bed is finally built and as I walk into her kitchen I see her putting the plates on the table. It smells phenomenal here, and I’m surprised when I look at the table because how the hell did she manage to cook all that in an hour?

I take advantage of her back facing me by putting my hands at her hips and pressing my chest onto her back. I nuzzle my face into the crook of her neck and it takes everything in me not to kiss her there. The combination of her perfume and the faint smell of antiseptic is sexy to me. So I can’t help but hum and mumble, “smells delicious.”

“The chicken?” She murmurs.

“Among other things,” I reply softly.

She chuckles. “Come on, let’s dig in while it’s still hot.”

I take a seat in front of her before I select a drumstick from a plate of fried, spicy goodness and put it on my plate. There’s something about the fact that YN made it that makes me believe it will be the best chicken I’ve ever had. Today will no doubt go down as one of the best days ever, which I seem to think a lot when I’m around this woman.

As she dishes me some salad, I honestly can’t wait anymore and take a bite of the chicken. Her eyes snap to me when I let out a groan.

“Good?” She asks with a grin.

I can’t help but let out another groan of approval as I take another bite. “Damn, Colonel, you never told me you make a mean fried chicken.”

“I’m not just a pretty face,” she shrugs smugly.

“Or a fine ass,” I tease. “If you want to quit your day job you can totally open up a fast food chain. Your fried chicken puts KFC to shame.”

She laughs as she cuts some cornbread and puts it on my plate. “Now try this, I make a mean cornbread too.”

“Mmm,” I say in pleasure as I take the first bite.

“Okay, you need to stop with the sexy moaning,” she grumbles with a tiny smirk before she turns back to her dinner. “You’re so bad. I think you’re trying to take advantage of me.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” I laugh. “And besides, you’re just as bad.”

“True,” she replies with a sly smile. “I can be bad too.”

“But just how bad are we talking here?” I ask with a smirk.

“Not bad enough to sleep with you tonight,” she says before she takes a sip of water. After she swallows, she adds, “but totally bad enough I might get frisky with you.”

I give her a mock groan and look up to the ceiling. “A tease. I’ve saddled myself with a tease tonight.”

She laughs.

We talk about what she did at the hospital today as we eat, and her job in general, and it never fails to thrill me the things that she can do. She’s a jack of all trades when it comes to medicine, needing to be able to diagnose and stabilise, often in pressure-filled situations where time is of the essence. I can’t even imagine having the responsibility of someone’s life in my hands like that, and yet she seems to be able to leave it all behind. She talks openly and often with humour about her work, but she also admits that sometimes she can’t help but bear the burden of death too when her skills just don’t make a difference.

I admire her so fucking much. Never admired a woman before, but in fairness… I never looked too deeply at them.

I’m seeing YN through unfiltered eyes and I like everything that I’m seeing.

—

Something is squirming in my arms and it wakes me up.

I tighten my arm around it in response to the movement and pull it back slightly against my body.

Wait? What?

Sleep.

Couch.

We fell asleep on her couch while watching a film.

It all comes back in a rush. Our totally awesome conversation over equally awesome food she cooked that I couldn’t stop raving about all night. I had three pieces of chicken by the way. We talked more about our backgrounds, me growing up in Cheshire and her childhood in South Carolina. We had a few beers, and when she asked me if I wanted to stay a bit and watch a film or something, of course I said hell yes.

The fact that she asked made me smile, because it meant that she was having a good time too with me. So we ended up on her couch watching Jaws, and I liked that she didn’t even hesitate when I lay down on her couch, pressed my back against the cushions and patted the area in front of my hips. I’m pretty sure she can see the devilish gleam in my eyes when I said, “come on… let’s cuddle.”

“Wow… Harry Styles, big bad hockey player, shameless flirt, total panty dropper. Didn’t peg you as a cuddler.”

“I’m a big teddy bear, honey,” I said with a grin and open arms.

She fell asleep first, and I know I should’ve left but the slightest movement from me would definitely wake her up. I know she must be tired so I decided against it and closed my eyes instead.

“Morning,” she says in a husky, raspy, ‘I just woke up’ voice and it’s sexy as fuck.

“Morning,” I reply, my own voice is still rough with sleep. I wonder if she thinks that’s sexy too. “You slept good?”

“Mhmm,” she hums softly, but then immediately groans as she glances at the clock above the telly. “Ugh, I have to be in the hospital in about an hour.”

She then tries to extricate herself from my arms, but I pull her back in close and nuzzle her neck as I point out, “you work a lot.”

“Ha, tell me about it,” she says with a dry laugh. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love my job. It’s just I wish I could sleep for three days straight sometimes.”

“Do you even have a day off in the week?” I ask curiously.

“I do,” she answers with a nod. “It was actually my day off yesterday, but I was filling in for a colleague.”

I loosen my hold and let her sit up in front of me. “Go get in the shower, I’ll make us both a quick breakfast.”

“You can cook?”

“Well, if I give you food poisoning you’re heading to the hospital anyway,” I chuckle.

In the kitchen, I grab some eggs and a pack of English muffins from her fridge. A quick breakfast sandwich sounds good, and portable just in case she needs to eat on her way to the hospital. I crack open a couple of eggs, scramble them with a fork and add salt and pepper while my skillet heats up. I put a bit of olive oil in the pan before I toss the English muffins into her toaster to crisp, then set coffee to brew in her Keurig. I’m moving around her kitchen as if I was born here.

By the time I pour the eggs into the pan, she walks out of her bedroom in her scrubs. I smile and nod at the Keurig as I say, “coffee’s ready.”

“And damn, you’re hot in those scrubs,” I add with a grin, giving the eggs a last scramble before pulling them off the heat.

“You’re joking right?” She says, wrinkling her nose as she grabs the milk from the fridge and turns my way, letting the door swing shut on its own.

“I’m serious, Doc,” I say with a smirk. “I wouldn’t mind getting a thorough exam from you. Preferably in your new canopy bed though so I can tie you up after for a payback.”

“Get your mind out of the gutter. It’s eight in the morning,” she laughs and I snort in return.

She then pours some milk in her coffee, pulls the cup to her mouth, and blows across the steaming surface. Her eyes meet mine over the edge of the cup as she takes a tentative sip. “Are we still on for Wednesday?”

“Of course,” I say with a confident smile.

“What have you got planned?”

“Well, you’ll have to wait and see,” I tease her. “Just to warn you though, I may or may not gonna put my hands all over you.”

I don’t tell her that by putting my hands all over her, I mean on the ice to keep her from falling since I plan to take her ice-skating on the team’s practice rink. I don’t want to spoil the surprise, and besides, I’d be lying if I said I never thought of other ways too. The way she’s looking at me right now assures me that she does too, and well, that’s good.

We can compare notes on that later when we get there.

—

Blinking at me with a sleepy smile on her face, YN stands up from my couch. I walk up to her and she pushes me down into her seat, and then crawls onto my lap.

This is nice.

Our date on Wednesday was amazing, and as we walked inside, she turned to me and asked, “so this was your big plan to put your hands on me?”

I just laughed in response, and I did have to put my hands on her quite a lot in the end since she didn’t know how to ice-skate. Fuck if I’m complaining though.

Now we’re snuggled up on the couch at my house with full bellies. Last weekend she cooked me amazing food, so today, I wanted to impress her by cooking a roast dinner and introduced her to Yorkshire pudding. Sure, I was on the phone with my mum the entire time so she could give me directions, but I only almost burnt down my kitchen once so I’d call that a success.

I lean forward, which pushes her slightly to the edge of the couch, then I reach an arm over her and grab a packet of KitKat from the coffee table. I’m glad when I learnt that it is actually her favourite chocolate too, because KitKat is elite and it’s good to know we’re on the same page.

“Want another?” I ask her.

“No,” she groans. “I’m so full.”

I chuckle and awkwardly unwrap the chocolate. Awkward because I have to open it in front of her face since I have my arms around her, and once I got it opened, I hold the naked little chocolate bars in front of her mouth and tease, “want a bite?”

She shakes her head.

I wave it under her nose and I guess the smell of the chocolate changes her mind because then she says, “okay, a little bite.”

I break the bars and feed one of it to her, letting her take a bite and then chucks the rest in my mouth. We chew silently as we watch Marlin looking for Nemo, and I sigh in contentment when she tucks her face into my neck and drapes one arm across my chest.

It takes no more than ten minutes before I notice her breathing has slowed down and she’s fallen asleep. I rest my cheek on the top of her head and continue watching these fishies. I’m a little drowsy from all the food, but I resist the urge to fall under. For now, I just want to savour my existence at this moment because as Dory says to Marlin, “I look at you and I’m home”, I truly realise that’s how she makes me feel.

I’m sitting in my house, but for once, it doesn’t feel empty anymore. I just had a wonderful meal where we talked and joked and flirted, and now I have a gorgeous woman who I’m crazy about curled up on my lap.

There is absolutely no other place I’d rather be right now.

—

“Dude, you’re so fucking whipped,” Alex says as he punches me on the shoulder. I jerk slightly and reluctantly take my gaze off YN to look his way.

“What do you mean?” I ask as I take a swig of my beer and promptly look back at my girl. She’s standing just ten feet away, sipping on her own beer and talking animatedly with Sloane and Brynne. We’re at The Owner’s Box tonight having our first triple date, and I’m having a brilliant time. The only thing better would be if YN would quit chatting with the girls and get her sweet ass over here to sit next to me.

“Fucking hopeless,” Matt mutters and Alex snickers.

I blink and turn to look at them. “What? Why am I hopeless?”

“Because you can’t fucking take your eyes off of your girl for more than two seconds,” Alex jeers at me. Then he leans in towards me and murmurs with a mocking sneer, “pussy.”

“Bollocks that,” I say haughtily. “I can take my eyes off of her longer than that.”

“Good,” Matt says, handing me an empty beer bottle. “Go get us some more beer.”

“Assholes,” I say with good nature and head towards the bar. Stopping beside my girl, I kiss her on the temple. “You girls want anything else to drink?”

Sloane and Brynne shake their heads, smiling coyly at me as they watch my uncharacteristic display of affection. I’m immensely pleased when YN smiles at me and rests her hand on my chest. “I’m good, but thank you.”

“Be right back,” I tell the girls, and then I set out to prove Alex and Matt wrong.

I swivel my gaze back to Matt and Alex, and I give a sheepish grin when Matt mouths the word pussy at me. I flip him off and head towards the bar, intent on not looking back at my girl for at least the next few minutes it takes me to get the beers.

“Excuse me,” I hear and feel a tap on my shoulder. “Harry, can we get an autograph and a picture?”

As I turn around with a warm smile in my place, the word sure is out of my mouth before I even see who’s asking. I’m met by a vision of holy hotness as two women stand there with tight-as-hell t-shirts cut obscenely low and with plenty of silicone boobs pouring out.

Just a mere month ago, I would have whispered a prayer of thanks to the big man upstairs for sending these two my way, knowing well that I’d be banging the hell out of one of them before the night was finished. Instead, my stomach tightens and I glance past them to see YN still deep in conversation with Sloane and Brynne.

I bring my gaze back to the women… a brunette and a blonde, both looking at me with promise in their eyes.

“Do you mind taking your picture with us?” The blonde asks with a bat of her eyelashes.

I give her a quick smile and say, “sure, no problem.”

She steps up to me as she hands her phone to the brunette. I lift my arm to sling it companionably around her shoulders, but she uses that opportunity to press intimately into my side, bringing both arms around my waist and mashing her breasts against my ribs.

“Thanks so much,” the blonde says in a seductive voice. “Can we buy you a drink?”

“No, thanks,” I decline with a smile. “I’ve got some friends waiting for me.”

“An autograph, then?” She asks.

“Sure.”

The blonde digs in her handbag and pulls out a sharpie. She then hands it to me and says, “can you make mine out to Kourtney with a K?”

“You got it,” I say, eager to get this over with because it feels awkward to me to have this woman coming onto me with my girl standing just a few feet away.

“Just sign here,” she says and my jaw drops as she pulls the edge of her t-shirt down her chest, practically exposing her entire right breast to me.

“Uh, you got a piece of paper instead?” I ask her. “I don’t think my girlfriend would like that.”

“You bet your ass she won’t,” I hear my girl quips from behind me and I’m trying my best not to laugh. I like that she immediately snuggles into my side so those women now would have no doubt that I’m totally hers, “wanna go play some pool, baby? Loser buys the drinks.”

“You’re on,” I tell her, Kourtney with a K and her friend are long forgotten. “But just to warn you, I’m really good.”

“Honey, I was practically born on one of these tables with a beer in my hand,” she says smugly, “you’re going down.”

—

“Do you want to come in?” YN asks as she pulls out her keys from her handbag. We’ve just got back from The Owner’s Box and as usual, I walk her to the door.

My tone is low, soft, and barely audible when I say, “Doc, if I come inside tonight, I don’t think I can promise you to keep my hands to myself.”

“I don’t want you to promise me anything,” she replies firmly. “Whatever happens, happens. Now, let’s not dawdle on my porch and get inside. Want some more beers?”

“Whoa, don’t hand me ammunition,” I joke and she laughs. “I’ll take some water though.”

“There’s some water bottles in the fridge,” she says, pointing to the tiny kitchen that sits at the rear of the house, past the living room. “I’ll be right back.”

I get two bottles of water out of the fridge and head back into her living room. I take a seat on the couch and pull out my phone, scrolling mindlessly as I wait for my girl.

When she reappears, she’s wearing a pair of sleep shorts and a white t-shirt. Her hair is pulled into a ponytail and her makeup has been washed off. Her in a t-shirt and tiny shorts is a hundred times sexier than her in literally anything else—yes, including her scrubs—and there’s no stopping my downstairs head from waking up.

“Come here.”

Her eyebrows rise, but I don’t miss the clear interest in her eyes. “Come there?”

I tap my thigh, “right here.”

Her cheeks flush and a little puff of breath blows out of her. With absolutely no hesitation, she crawls onto my lap. Our gazes are locked tight and her eyes darken with intensity. When her chest comes level with mine, and her knees are pressed into the cushion just inches from my crotch, she asks me softly, “you going to finally kiss me?”

“I’m thinking about it,” I tease her as my hands come around her lower back, pressing her onto me.

Fuck, she feels good against me. Just her soft curves and warmth and I’m already starting to get hard before I even lay my mouth on hers.

She looks at me with sizzling eyes as we stare at each other, knowing that once we take this step, our relationship is going to another level.

Leaving one hand on her lower back, I slide the other up and over the shoulder, letting my palm glide up her neck so my fingers can tangle in her hair. She shivers when my thumb strokes her jaw before I cup my hand around the back of her head.

Her hands reach out and circle behind my neck. Then she whispers as she licks her lower lip, “so this is it?”

“This is it,” I tell her, and because I absolutely cannot wait one second longer, I put pressure on the back of her head to lock our mouths together. The first touch of her lips against mine causes pleasure to punch straight through my groin, and the world just absolutely melts away.

There’s nothing else but her.

Lips so fucking soft, tongue tentative and sweet. Her hair silky to the touch and her skin warm as my hand snakes up just under the edge of her t-shirt.

She tilts her head, opens her mouth more and kisses me deeper. I groan and pull her tighter to me. My hand fists tighter into her hair, hampered by the hair tie somewhat but not giving a fuck. Her hips start to rotate slightly, rubbing herself along the top of my thigh. My dick gets achingly hard as she starts to make tiny sounds of need in the back of her throat.

My other hand slips down her back and palms her backside, then I give a tentative squeeze. I think she likes that, because her hips shift forward and she starts to grind her crotch on my leg. I press against her ass, encouraging her to keep moving against me. She does it again and shudders in my arms, so I know it’s hitting her in the right spot.

Pulling on her hair, I break the kiss just enough so I can growl at her, “get yourself off, darling. Right here. On my leg.”

Her eyes fly open and they’re full of fire and sexual need as they stare back at me. Her lips curve up in a wicked smile of acquiescence and I pull her back down to my mouth for a hard kiss.

She rotates her hips in circles, then alternates flexing back and forth. I clench my thigh muscle, wanting to give her as hard a surface as possible to stimulate herself. I slip my hand down the back of her shorts, finding bare skin. I squeeze and push her down on me, helping her to move faster on my leg.

She pants and moans softly as she works herself up. I have to force myself not to push my hand down further between her legs. I’m bound and determined not to go there yet, and besides, this is hot as fuck and completely satisfying to me.

She moves faster and faster, making tiny cries of yearning into my mouth as we kiss. Then she punches her pelvis down hard onto my thigh, going still for a moment before her entire body starts quaking in silent orgasm. I hear nothing but a soft sigh of pleasure escape her lips and slither over my tongue.

Her body goes limp in my arms. She lifts her head, our lips parting, and looks down at me with glazed eyes. I press my lips to her briefly just once more, before I pull my hand out of the back of her shorts and roll her body off me. As I stand up and hover over her for a minute, I see her cheeks flushed rosy and her nipples pebbled hard, even through her t-shirt.

Placing a hand on the couch cushion, I lower myself to her and brush my lips across her forehead. “Get a good night’s sleep.”

“Wait- you’re leaving?” She asks, confusion coating her expression.

“Yes,” is all I say.

“But-”

“I’ll take a cold shower when I get home, no worries,” I assure her with a smile. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“I had a great time tonight, Harry,” she tells me, still looking like a wet noodle on the couch so I don’t think she’ll be getting up anytime soon.

“I did too,” I smile at her over my shoulder as I reach for her door.

It’s in this moment that I’m pretty sure I’m a goner for her.

—

I see the hottest, sexiest, most adorable doctor walking across the darkened parking lot towards me. Well, towards her car. Her head is tucked down and she looks tired. When she finally looks up and locks her eyes on me, the exhaustion melts away and I’m rewarded with a happy, welcoming smile from her.

“You really have to stop stalking me in parking lots,” she quips as she walks closer.

Then closer still until the tips of her shoes touch the tips of mine and she’s offering her mouth to me for a kiss. Obviously, I take it, because who wouldn’t? Her lips are perfect. She tastes like mint gum and smells faintly of antiseptic, and that right there is my favourite combo.

When she pulls back, she tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear and asks, “seriously, what are you doing here?”

“I wanna take you somewhere,” I tell her as I grab her hand and take her towards my car that’s parked the next row over.

“Where?”

“Just get in the car, Doc.”

“You’re being vague,” she says with an arched eyebrow. “Is this where you kidnap me, take my kidney and sell it on eBay?”

“This is where I’ll find a way to occupy that beautiful mouth of yours if you keep asking questions and ruin the surprise,” I tell her and she gives a tinkling laugh.

“Promises, promises,” she singsongs and I just roll my eyes.

It only takes about fifteen minutes from Cedars-Sinai Hospital where she works to the closest beach where I plan to take her for an impromptu picnic date night. We only had to stop by to get some pizza because I already have a cooler with a six-pack of beers loaded in the back of my car. It’s a little too late for sunset, but the purplish black of twilight is lush.

“The beach, huh,” she deadpans. “You brought me out here to seduce me?”

“You naughty girl,” I clutch a hand to my chest and make an exaggerated gasp of disbelief. “That’s indecent exposure that is.”

She laughs as she opens the door of the car and hops out. I do the same, then I open the back door to pull out the pizza, blanket and the cooler with beers inside before letting her help by taking the blanket.

Somehow we have the beach to ourselves tonight, and she points out a nice spot for us to sit. I agree, so I let her spread out the blanket. After both of us have our butts firmly planted, side by side, facing the ocean, I take two beers out and hand one to her.

“Ooh, we’re going fancy tonight,” she says when she sees that I brought microbrews instead of cheap beer.

I chuckle as I open the pizza box and grab a slice of the cheesy goodness that will probably clog my artery, then we talk about our day as we eat. I tell her the funny things that happened at practice today, including a joke that Marcel told us in the locker room which most would probably find insulting, but I know my girl is used to locker room talk and would find it hilarious, and she tells me what she did in the hospital. Apparently, they were so busy today that her lunch break lasted less than ten minutes.

“You never cease to amaze me, Doc,” I tell her honestly. “It’s so cool what you do for a living. Impressive as hell.”

“Thanks, Harry,” she says softly. “That means a lot.”

It’s completely dark by the time we finish our pizza, but the view is still lush since the moon is bright, causing the water to look like it’s covered in floating, crushed diamonds.

We’re silent as we sip our beers, and I love that we can sit in comfortable silence as well as talk for hours. It’s crazy to think that it’s only been a few weeks that we’ve known each other yet I just feel such a strong connection with her. I love that we’re so in tune with each other that sometimes we say the same things and steal lines from one another. We have a similar sense of humour and we can even exchange an inside joke with just a glance.

I loosen my hold of her when she pulls away from my side embrace. Her head swivels to me, and I can see the moon glittering in her eyes. “I owe you an apology.”

“What?” I look at her in confusion.

“I misjudged you, Harry,” she says with a tender smile. “When you asked me out, I outright told you that you’re a player without even giving you a chance to explain yourself. I made an assumption, and that was wrong of me. I’m sorry.”

“And your assumption was right,” I tell her honestly with a light chuckle. “There is nothing to apologise for. It was common knowledge, I was a manwhore.”

She snorts. “Shut up, I’m serious.”

“Me too,” I squeeze her hand. “You didn’t misjudge me, Doc, you knew exactly the type of guy I used to be.”

She has a dreamy smile on her face when she says, “kiss me.”

“No, you come here and kiss me,” I say, and I’m pretty sure she can see my eyes sparkling with mischief.

She rolls her eyes and mutters “fine” under her breath as she plants her knees on the sides of my legs, but I don’t miss the light in her eyes which tells me that she likes the idea.

Closing her eyes, she dips her mouth to mine and now I’m wondering if the two years of jail time and a fine for indecent exposure is worth it if I were to take her right here right now.

—

We’re in New York for two away games in a row, tonight against the Rangers which we won 3-1, and tomorrow night against the Devils. I’m chuffed not only because we won and I played great, but I also had a great day today before the game with my girl. We didn’t do much since she wanted me to save my energy for the game tonight, but we did walk around our hotel and ended up napping on the couch in the room that I share with Marcel.

We all ride on the team bus that takes us from the hotel to the arena and back to the hotel after we finish the game. I wanted her to sit next to me, but for both trips, to the arena and back, she gave me a slight shake of her head and sat with the girls along with the rest of the staff in the front.

When I hop off the bus though, I see her waiting for me with a grin on her face. I kiss the fuck out of her, not caring about my teammates who whistle and yell, “get a room.”

“Which floor are you on again?” I ask her as we enter the lift. I want to walk her to her room just to spend a few minutes more with her.

Yeah, laugh all you want. I know I’m fucking whipped.

“Tenth,” she says, pulling her room key out of her handbag and hands it to me so I can scan it then tap the button on number ten.

“Wanna catch an early breakfast with me tomorrow?” I ask her as we approach her room that she shares with the team’s orthopaedic surgeon, Callie.

“Sure. What time?”

“We’re leaving for light skate practice at 9:30, so we should have plenty of time if we meet down there at 8:30.”

“Sounds good,” she nods as we reach her door.

There’s a handwritten note stuck in between the door and the jamb. She puts her key in the card slot, opens the door slightly, and snag the piece of paper. She opens it up and I look over her shoulder at the note as we read it silently together.

YN,

Marcel and Joslynn are hooking up and they’re in his room which means Harry has been kicked out. I’m going to sleep with Macy instead, so you and Harry can have this room. Unless you want Harry to go sleep with Macy?

No? Didn’t think so.

Have fun you two.

Callie

“This is Alex, Matt and Marcel’s doing,” I tell her with absolute certainty as she twists her neck to look at me. “I’ll just get an extra room for tonight.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she chuckles. “You can sleep here. We’ve spent the night together before.”

“Yeah, but that was different. We fell asleep on the couch, it wasn’t intentional,” I point out. “I don’t trust myself sleeping in the same bed with you, Doc. I’m not going to be able to help myself.”

“Well, good,” she says, smiling mischievously. “Cause I’m done wait-”

That’s as far as she gets before I push her through the door, backing her into the room. My mouth hits her only moments before her legs hit the edge of the bed and we both go tumbling onto it.

This is when we realise there’s a huge box of condoms with 144 packs inside it in the middle of the bed. On the top, there’s another note and I recognise Matt’s handwriting on it.

You’re welcome by the way

“I freaking love your teammates,” she says with a laugh.

I guess I owe those fuckers some beers.

[wri0thesley]

Hello Nat! May I humbly request a monsterfucking scenario/headcannon of milking cow!risotto?

i have never written anything like this before, please be nice to me

relief - reader x risotto (2k)

risotto takes a liking to a farmhand. 

(warnings: non-human/cow hybrid risotto, farmhand reader, milking/lactation, big strong cow man, not sfw, afab reader)

Approaching Risotto always feels like a Herculean task.

No matter how many times you do it, or how often you visit him, the first view of the man always makes your heart skip a beat. He’s just so big – the muscles, the haunches, the shoulders – the heavy broadness of his chest, clearly in need of what you were about to provide for him.

He sees you coming and tenses. It’s not, you know, that he dislikes you in particular – but Risotto has always been a difficult cow to work with. He has broken free of too many milking machines and damaged too much equipment, and you know that there are other workers on the farm who he will not so much let lay hands on him. For you, though . . .

“Easy,” you murmur, softly, putting up your hands. He’s not skittish, that’s not the right word for him – but he requires trust, and not many people bother putting that into working with him. Despite being somewhat of a loner, the other animal hybrids that had been acquired from his old farm and put into yours all have a strong attachment to each other and him that hasn’t waned at all.

(Melone told you, when you had been foolish enough to believe him with big eyes and a whimper that the machines hurt and he’d give more if you hand-milked him, that there had been two more of them once, but the other farm’s cruel mistreatment had lost them. You think that’s what Risotto is afraid of.)

He sees it’s you and relaxes, the flare of his nostrils receding, his ears relaxing. You’re smiling despite yourself.

“I’m glad they sent you,” he says, after a moment, his voice a very low rumble deep in his chest. His dark eyes – so unusual, but pretty nonetheless – look at you and you see that the amount of milk that he’s holding onto must be painful for him. The last farmhand they sent to try and hand-milk Risotto--

Well. They had not gotten on as well as you did with him.

He’s swollen. You reach up, having to get on your tiptoes, and gently pet Risotto’s face, fingers dancing across the sensitive skin, to the flare of his horns. He exhales deeply, the big gust of air making his long ears flutter.

He’s really cute. You like him a lot; other farmhands are pretty scared of him, but you’ve established that you’re not a threat to him, and that you’ll be kind to both him and all of the other hybrids that are sequestered on the farm.

“You want me to take care of that,” you say, keeping your voice very soft and docile so he doesn’t interpret you as a threat. “Right?” You motion to his swollen pecs, the nipples puffy. You can see one of them is already almost leaking. “That’s gotta hurt, huh? Sore?”

He bows his head, embarrassed, but he nods. He swallows, the bob in his throat very big – just like everything about him, really.

“Y-yeah,” he affirms. He’s definitely not the most talkative cow you’ve ever worked with – but honestly? After being sent to take care of some of the others in his herd, you’re not going to complain about that.

“Alright,” your voice is still soft, soothing. You turn for a moment to grab the extra-large sized buckets that you’d brought with you from the farmhouse proper, setting them on the ground. You need the extra capacity they can hold with Risotto, knowledge gleaned from prior experience. “Get down, come on. I’ll help you.”

Even on his hands and knees, he comes up high against you. In an ideal world, something like Risotto would indeed be left to the machines, which are much more equipped to deal with his unusual size than you are – but in the old days, you guess, farmers would have had to do this themselves, so it’s the least you can do--

For something so big, he’s surprisingly reserved about this – his face flushing warm as you wrap your arms around him. The position is a little awkward – you’re so much smaller than him, and he is so broad – but as your hands gently massage his chest, squeezing softly, Risotto lets out a fluttering whine, his body curling into it almost automatically.

“Hey,” you murmur again, “don’t buck too much. You’ll lay me out flat.”

It’s not like you haven’t been knocked down before – but Risotto’s so strong, he might actually put you out of commission for a while. The stories of broken milking machines have not passed you by – if he can break things that are industrial standard, you know it would be no bother for him to break you.

(You shouldn’t have thought of it like that; your face heats up despite yourself.)

Another squeeze, a soft massage – when he wasn’t carrying so much milk around, the planes of his abs and chest were usually flat and hard. They’re soft and swollen right now, and he pants as you touch him, his back arching. Your teeth bite into your bottom lip as you wedge your feet against the ground hard, trying desperately to keep your balance where you are.

The fingers on one hand latch about his engorged nipple, tugging gently – the other hand massages the soft skin of one of his pecs, coaxing the milk in him out. He groans again, curving – and you hear the tell-tale noise of liquid hitting metal, and know you’ve gotten started.

If you had a spare hand, you would be petting his hair soothingly. You do not, so you have to be satisfied with quietly humming pleased epithets at him.

“Good boy,” you say, all softness and light. His body is warm beneath you, his head ducking further. He never knows how to respond to praise. “That’s right, Ris. We’re gonna get this done and you’re gonna feel so much better, right?”

The thick noise of him swallowing again.

“Already feels better,” he confesses, sighing as you continue to tug and massage and the steady drip of milk becomes a steady rush, a stream. You maybe should have brought extra buckets, you think, as his supply doesn’t seem to dwindle. God. It really has been a while, huh?

He moans softly as you milk him, shifting from one side of his chest to the other, and despite knowing that you’re on the clock and it’s uncomfortable for you to be feeling like this, you find yourself shifting. It doesn’t help that the position you have to assume behind Risotto leaves your legs spread wide so you don’t even get the relief of being able to press your thighs together – his soft noises and the feel of his muscle beneath your front, the way he’s reacting to being milked are a siren’s call. You’re going to have to lock yourself in a bathroom or somewhere and take care of your problem before you tend to any of your other work, too many of the hybrids on the farm would smell arousal on you the minute you got within ten feet.

“Good boy,” you repeat, and you receive in return a rumble that’s almost like a purr. Whilst it’s easy to imagine him breaking machines based on the raw power coiled in his muscle, it’s also hard to imagine him being anything but pliant, what with how he’s reacting to your stimulation, his groans and shivering.

You can’t see how full the buckets are, but you sure can imagine.

“A-ahh, Risotto--”

He whines and you hear the click of his back hooves on the floor as your own feet are suddenly lifted off the ground despite all of the work you took to keep them dug in, your body bent double over his as he--

Your cheeks heat up in realisation. Risotto is dry-humping the air, the stimulation to his swollen teats obviously having an effect someone further down. It’s not unusual for a cow to be stimulated by this happening, of course – but last time you milked Risotto . . .

Well. Last time you’d milked Risotto he hadn’t given off so much milk, he hadn’t been so swollen, and he hadn’t been dealing with the feel of being full and unmilked for so long, you suppose. Knowing what Risotto has swinging between his legs, though, you can’t help but be glad that you’re basically on his back. It would do nothing for the arousal that you’re desperately trying to fight off to see his cock all hard and thick pressing against the flat planes of his stomach.

“Hey,” you say, weakly. “Down, please--”

“C-can’t,” Risotto replies, desperation evident in his voice. “N-need . . . Ugh--”

The grunt goes right through you like a jolt of heat. Your hands haven’t ceased in their machinations, still milking and massaging, but you can hear that the stream is thinning out. You must be close to milking him dry, then. Maybe once you’ve done that he’ll calm down a bit.

“Come on, shh, let me finish--” Your words are not so soothing with the panic of basically being mid-air and the breathless sounds of being so turned on you can barely concentrate, but you do your best anyway. Risotto’s powerful hips flex underneath you as he ruts into thin air. His tail is swinging side to side – a farmhand who didn’t know him as well might say it seemed irritated. You know a little better.

You try and block out anything but the feel of his chest, the repeated motions of massage and tug and tenderly coax forward the milk, but it’s so fucking difficult to concentrate on anything. Risotto breathes out deep again and the stream turns to a drip, drip, drip. So close. He whimpers, his body not stilling--

And then, you’re done. He’s stopped. You’re about to ask Risotto very nicely to put you down and you’ll let someone know that he could be doing with a different type of milking, but before you can really say anything the cow is bucking you off.

Your back hits the ground with a thump and you wince. He could definitely have been rougher – you’re not broken – but it’s hardly a nice sensation to be forcibly pushed off of something with as much raw restrained power as Risotto has.

“H-hey—” You try and say, weakly. “Ris, please, I’m just doing my job--”

Your calves are being pushed apart. The clack of hooves on the ground as Risotto’s body settles over you. The silky warmth of one of his flopping ears presses against your cheek as the cow nuzzles into you lovingly. His deflated (oh, it’s all hard muscle again) chest presses against your own, his nipples damp where they meet your shirt. Oh, cute – he’s thanking you--

“Please,” Risotto says, breathily, and you realise that he’s not thanking you. You look down past the dark patches of his markings on his shoulders and stomach to see that his cock is still achingly hard and leaking, and right now it is pressing (insistent and massive) into your thigh. “Need. . . please—”

“Oh,” you breathe. “Risotto, I shouldn’t – I should get someone else to do that, it’s not my forte--”

He exhales against your neck, making you shiver, hot breath rushing all over your skin.

“Don’t wanna be milked,” he grumbles against the shell of your ear. “Want you.”

Oh, that’s bad. He shouldn’t want you. It’s never a good idea when cows get too attached to their farmhands. But . . . Risotto’s bulk over you is so massive. He’s such a problem cow for so many other workers. Would it be that bad? Maybe they might want to breed him in the future, his milk is good and he produces so much of it, but . . .

“I shouldn’t,” you repeat helplessly, but your hand is already reaching for his cock. You can barely fit your fingers around it. If it goes inside of you, it might actually break you in half. The thought should not be as hot as it is.

“Please,” Risotto repeats to you, still nuzzling against your neck, sending needy signals all through your body. You bite your lip as you give the shaft a pump that has his powerful hips following the motion. You can only imagine what it would feel like to have all of that force thrusting into you.

You don’t have any other duties today, do you? They gave you all morning with Risotto, thinking that you’d need the extra time--

You give in to the siren’s call. The hand not around his cock fumbles with the button of your jeans.

“Okay,” you say, and Risotto’s nostrils flare again, his tail beating, his big dark ink and blood eyes lighting up. “Don’t break me.”

[wolferine]

Forgiven

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: One-shot sequel to my “Unforgivable” series. After being paralyzed in an accident, Natasha reunites with her lover who caused the accident in the first place.

Warnings: Mentions of torture, language

Word count: 2300

Tags: @yeetus-thyself @phoenixofash @yeeterthekeeper @alessiapn @diaryoflife @norwaynatasharomanoff @lovelyy-moonlight @nightingalxx @supersourlemon13

AN: This one’s for you, @allhailthelesbian! :)

You do not have to read the previous story to follow this one!

Something shifts in your arms and you instinctively tighten them, feeling a tickle of hair across your nose.

“Y/N,” Natasha whispers, “You squeeze me any harder and I’m gonna choke to death.”

“Huh?” You loosen your arms and open your eyes, finding your red-haired, green-eyed beauty staring back at you.

“Good morning,” she says.

“Good morning.” You close your eyes again and press your foreheads together.

“Ready for a workout?” she asks.

You chuckle. “It’s been a while since I’ve done one of those.”

She traces her finger over your bicep. While you’ve lost some weight in the past few months, you’ve still got some wiry strength, but you know you have some catching up to do. 

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” she says. “But my legs don’t even work and I’m not using that as an excuse.”

“Okay, okay,” you sigh. “Five more minutes?”

“Fine. Only because I need your help getting to the bathroom, anyway.”

“Oh.” Your eyes fly back open. Although Natasha’s been living with her condition for more than six months, it’s still your first week back with her and sometimes you forget her needs are different than before you left. “I can just get up now—” you start.

“It’s fine,” she says, pushing you back onto the bed as you try to sit up.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Ask me again in five minutes.” She snuggles closer to you and her breath is hot against your collarbone. You close your eyes again and feel her touch the starburst of a scar on your cheek from where her bullet had struck your face.

“I’m sorry for hurting you,” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“When I fired my gun, I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” she says. “I just wanted to distract you. But then my bullet bounced off the pole and hit you in the face.”

“It’s okay,” you reply, knowing you’ve done far worse to her. A minor blemish was nothing compared to losing control of your legs.

Ten minutes later, Natasha announces she needs to use the bathroom. You sit up without being told twice and pick her up bridal-style, carrying her into the bathroom. Tony had made some modifications, such as adding handlebars near the toilet and inside the shower and lowering the medicine cabinet for easier access.

“Can you bring my wheelchair in? So you don’t have to keep carrying me back and forth,” Natasha asks as you help situate her on the toilet.

“I don’t mind,” you say.

“But I do,” she says.

Without argument, you move her wheelchair from the bedroom to the bathroom. “Holler if you need me,” you say, closing the door and going to change into a tank top and shorts. When you’re done, you hear water running in the sink and can’t help asking, “Everything okay in there?”

“Uh-huh! Jus’ brushin’ my teef!”

“Okay! Take your time.” You don’t want to be overbearing but you want to be ready to help when she needs it. Tony had talked to you about how independent she was; she insisted on learning how to do everything for herself, not liking the help of caregivers or nurses. 

Obviously, she was more comfortable asking you for help than a stranger, but you knew her well enough to know that she hated showing any signs of vulnerability, even if she really needed help.

Natasha rolls out of the bathroom and you trade spots with her, using the toilet and brushing your teeth. When you come out, she’s by the closet with her back towards you. She has on a workout shirt and struggles to pull a pair of shorts up her legs.

“Do you need some help?” you ask. Tony had told you to always ask first instead of jumping right in.

“Yes, please.” Natasha sighs. The shorts are hooked around her feet. “It’s…It’s a little hard for me to reach sometimes.”

“That’s okay.” You kneel and shimmy the shorts over her knees. 

“Can you pick me up so I can pull them on?” she asks.

“Sure.” You wrap your arms under hers and gently lift her high enough for her to pull the shorts up to her hips.

“Thanks.” You set her back down and help her put her shoes on. “All ready?”

“Let’s go.”

You go down to the Avengers’ state-of-the-art gym, containing every single piece of workout equipment you’re humanly aware of. There are weights up to the ton and a 12-foot deep Olympic-sized swimming pool.

“What did you have in mind today?” you ask as you walk next Natasha. She rolls suspiciously close to the swimming pool and you wish you could squeeze yourself on the other side of her to make sure she doesn’t fall in.

“Leg day,” she says.

“Huh?”

“Kidding!” Natasha laughs when suddenly, her wheelchair catches on the end of a loose pool noodle someone had left out and she launches from her wheelchair into the pool. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, you would’ve cried from laughter, but instead your heart drops to your feet and you jump into action—literally.

“Nat!” you scream, diving in headfirst. Underwater, you open your eyes, letting the chlorine burn into them, and see the blurry shape of Natasha bobbing up to the surface. You swim towards her and when lift your head to take a breath, you find her howling in laughter.

“What are you laughing at?” you ask, coughing up a mouthful of water.

“I’ve been swimming every day since the accident, babe,” she says, doing a much better job of treading water than you. And she doesn’t even have use of her legs. “I’m not going to drown.”

“Well, I might.” Your head dips under and you swallow a mouthful of water. Natasha wraps her hand around your arm and yanks you up.

“Seriously?” she asks.

“Haven’t…swam…in a while,” you choke.

“So, you thought you could jump in and save me when you can barely save yourself?” Natasha shakes her head, but admires your blinding love for her. She drags you over to the wall and grabs the pool noodle. “Use this.” 

You bend the noodle under your arms, grateful for the moment of rest.

“Okay, let’s go do a few laps now!” She paddles away before you can protest. Grudgingly, you kick after her.

***********************************************************************

An hour later, you’re so exhausted you can barely walk and you’re tempted to ask Natasha if she’ll let you sit on her lap while you go back up to your room.

“Shower together?” Natasha asks, and there’s a hint of shyness in her voice.

“Sure.” You’ve already seen there’s plenty of room for the both of you. First, you get Natasha settled into her shower chair before you turn around and take your dripping workout clothes off.

It’s the first time she’s seen you naked since you left. Her eyes trace over the visible bones of your ribs and the scars crisscrossing your back. There’s a burn in the shape of a triangle on the back of your left shoulder, where Hammer had tried to brand you with his logo. Because he didn’t see you as a person, but his property.

Natasha knows that although she’s had a difficult past six months, you had been in your own hell.

You turn towards her and see the sadness in her eyes. “What’s wrong?” you ask.

She doesn’t say anything and offers her hand, pulling you into the shower. You turn on the water, removing the showerhead from the wall to spray over the both of you. There is nothing sexual in any of your actions as you help each other shampoo your hairs and wash your bodies. However, the closeness is still intimate and comforting.

Afterwards, you both dry off and get dressed, going into the kitchen for breakfast. Falling back into a routine with your girlfriend—even after six months—is the easiest thing you ever did. But even though it’s almost like you never left, things aren’t exactly the same, and you want to make up for the lost time as much as you can.

***********************************************************************

When lunchtime rolls around, Natasha suggests taking you to your favorite diner. You haven’t driven a car in six months, so you’re a little nervous when you go down to the garage, until Natasha insists that she’ll drive instead. She takes you over to her black Corvette Stingray, which never fails to make you whistle.

You help her into the driver’s seat, noticing the specialized hand control Tony installed so she could work the pedals with a hand lever. You make a mental note to thank him again for being so generous in caring for your girlfriend in your absence. When you sit in the passenger seat, it feels just like old times.

“Don’t crash,” you tease.

“Oh, please,” Natasha scoffs. “I can’t even use my legs and I’m still a better driver than you.” 

“Ouch.”

You watch as she expertly maneuvers the steering wheel with her left hand while her right hand pushes and pulls on the handle for the brake and gas pedal.

“You look so badass,” you say.

She looks at you and smiles. “I know.”

“I think I’ll just have you drive me around from now on.” You close your eyes and relax in the seat.

When you arrive at the diner’s parking lot, Natasha skips over the blue handicapped stalls and parks across from them.

“You don’t want to park there?” you ask, pointing to an empty blue stall.

She shakes her head. “Maybe someone else needs it more than me,” she says. “After all, they don’t have you to carry them around.” She tries to make a joke out of it, but you can tell she’s a little embarrassed. It’s also the reason she’s so hesitant to drive her Corvette around: most people who see it assume she’s a jackass trying to take advantage of a handicapped spot.

She’s had people scratch her doors and leave ugly notes on the windshield. One time, before she even had the chance to get out of the car, a group of people had gathered at her door to cuss her out. Their red faces of embarrassment and stuttered apologies when Tony helped her into her wheelchair was something she would never forget.

You get her wheelchair out of the trunk and set it next to her door, helping her into it. Inside the restaurant, the waitress removes one of the chairs at your table so Natasha can sit next to you. You don’t even bother looking at the menu, knowing exactly what you want.

You end up finishing all of your food and Natasha’s leftovers, and she can only laugh at your appetite.

“Hammer didn’t you feed you enough?” she teases.

“I’m pretty sure the stuff he gave me can’t even be counted as food,” you respond.

“Before we go home, I want to take you somewhere special,” she says as you leave the restaurant. “I visit it once a week.”

“Let’s do it.”

She drives you to a high school. But since it’s the weekend, the parking lot is empty except for a few cars. Natasha takes you inside. As you go down the hall with her, she grabs onto your hand.

“You don’t need both hands to roll?” you joke.

“I just like being close to you,” she says. Her wheelchair is at the perfect height that you don’t have to strain your shoulder lower to hold her hand. She directs you into a classroom, and when you step inside, you see some people already there. 

They’re all in wheelchairs.

You suddenly feel angry at Natasha for bringing you here. Was she trying to make you feel even more guilty for what you had done to her? These people were all going through their own pain, and here you were having caused that exact same pain to your own lover.

“Hey, everyone,” Natasha says with a confidence in her voice you haven’t heard yet. “This is my partner I’ve told you all about, Y/N.”

“Hi, Y/N!” they chorus. You cringe, wondering how much of yourself Natasha told them. Some of them are like her, paralyzed from the waist down, while others move their wheelchairs around by blowing into tubes or pressing a remote hanging from their necks.

You move out to the hallway and Natasha follows you.

“Why did you bring me here?” you whisper, your stomach churning. You feel like you’ve intruded on something private, something you don’t have the right to be a part of. “What were you thinking—” 

“Please stay,” she begs. “They’re all my friends, and some of them bring their partners along, too. It’s not an exclusive club or anything. We tell stories and learn how to get through things together.

“My condition changed everything for me, but it’s also a change for you. I want to make sure you get the support you need. Because there’s not just two of us in this relationship anymore,” she continues, and you raise your eyebrow. “It’s me, you, and my condition.

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m your burden or you’re my caregiver. I’m still the same as I always was. I can’t do everything myself and I might need your help. It’s just a different kind of help than before.”

You kneel and cup her face. “I love you, Nat. I’ll be here for you, whenever and whatever you need,” you promise.

She leans forward to kiss you. “I know.”

And with that kiss, you feel her forgiveness wash over you, cleansing you of the guilt and trauma of what you did. She had already forgiven you, a long time ago. You couldn’t continue to be so hard on yourself if you wanted the relationship to work. 

You know it won’t be an easy journey, and it’s only the beginning, but with Natasha by your side again, you feel completely unstoppable.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: I was definitely nervous writing this as I have little experience working with people with paralysis, so I did some research and hope I did it justice! If there’s anything out of place, please let me know. :)

Join my taglist for future stories here! Thanks for reading, and until next time…

[deannaroxannewrites]

Tropetember Day 12 - Getting together / Love confession / First kiss / Break-up/Make-up / Fix-it

Limp away with me

Pairing: Armitage Hux x GN!Reader

Fandom: Star Wars

Rating: Teen and up

TW: Injuries, implications of rough childhood

AN: Day 12 of @tropetember. So, this is quite rough and holds a lot of potential for fleshing out into a proper story, whether that's just a longer one or a multi-chapter. Is that something anyone would be interested in? Fix-it fic cos they did General Hugs dirty

Allegiant General Pryde has shot General Hux. Lucky you're the Surgeon General really.

Find this story on Ao3 here.

Word Count: 1.6k

“Allegiant General Pryde just shot General Hux.”

Your breath catches and you allow yourself a moment to close your eyes. Next moment, you’ve grabbed your bag and are focused back on task.

“Collect the body,” you direct them, “and bring it to the medbay autopsy lab. Carefully.”

You and Armitage had prepared for this eventuality. One of the advantages of having a partner in the medical core was that the chances of surviving treason were much higher.

Whilst neither of you had entered First Order service willingly (no matter what Hux said, you had both been forced into it), Armitage had quickly excelled and embraced his duties in an effort to outshine his father. To try and prove himself as worthy. You, on the other hand, had enacted the only act of rebellion against your family that you would be able to survive. You had chosen to enrol in the medical core rather than aiming for command. If you had to be a part of this monstrous cause, you would try to save as many as you could.

You’d worked your way quickly up to the rank of Surgeon General and had been stationed on the Supremacy for a number of years. Thankfully, you’d survived the reign of Snoke and, so far, had survived Ren’s reign of terror. It had been a blessing that Hux had been reassigned to the vessel from the Finaliser. You enjoyed each other’s company and it was helpful to be able to train on your self-defence with someone who wasn’t trying to beat the stuffing out of you to make a point. He was a good outlet for a lot of energy in other ways too.

You glance up from checking you have all your equipment when you realise the orderlies haven’t moved. You turn your most piercing stare on them.

“Did I stutter?”

They look at each other until one of them pulls up their big boy panties and says “he was shot for being a spy.”

You laugh. Mostly at the fact that one looks like he wants to cry and the other like he’s about to collapse. They don’t need to know that though.

“Yes, by Allegient General Pryde who is well known for being a thorough and competent leader. Oh wait. No, he’s not. He’s had a grudge against Hux since he reappeared from whatever hell hole he had been hiding in. I said go fetch me the body! Now!”

They scarper out and you take another deep breath to centre yourself before busying yourself again with grabbing supplies and the emergency make-a-break-for-it kit you stored in your office. You then straighten your uniform, brace yourself and head out into the chaos of the medical bay.

---------------

Armitage is deathly pale when he finally is brought down to you but you swiftly move into action, infusing blood and bacta and checking the depth of the wound. You’d both known that, were he to be discovered, the weapon he was likely to be shot with would pierce the thin body armour he wore beneath his uniform. Unfortunately, it was the maximum thickness he could get away with before it became noticeable but you had both agreed that some bleeding would sell the ruse. You just didn’t like it.

Checking out the wound, you sigh out a quick breath of relief when you realise it is not too deep and hasn’t damaged any of the major blood vessels or organs. Though gruesome to witness, it was mostly superficial.

You lose yourself in your efforts, remaining undisturbed in the autopsy room, until you’re happy that he’s stable for travel. It’s at that point that you revive him, despite the fact he’s going to be in a world of pain.

He slowly blinks into reality with a scowl and a hiss of pain. You try to soothe him as best you can but there isn’t much you can do right now. You need him mobile to get to the shuttle and someone would notice you carrying him.

Gently running your hand through his hair you tell him “come on sweetheart. I know it hurts but we’ve got to move.”

Despite the pain, he seems alert and nods, letting out a grunt of agreement as he allows you to help him sit up and then stand. You gather the spare stormtrooper armour you’d pilfered a few months ago and quickly get him dressed up in it before leading the way swiftly to the small landing bay where Armitage’s private shuttle was stored.

You whisper a thanks to whatever Gods there are that the chaos on board the vessel means that there is noone around and you manage to get the pair of you on board with little drama. In fact, the whole escape into hyperspace is amazingly smooth and once you’re away with your course set, you sag a little in relief.

Or at least, you do until you see Armitage’s slumped frame and quickly grab him and get him moved to the small bedroom to continue his care and knock him back out while he heals.

You’re just about to inject the sedative when he grabs your hand, making you look at him.

“You know you are my world, don’t you?” he asks quietly.

You smile softly and lean forward to press a gentle kiss on his lips. You smile again as you feel him smile against you.

“I do, I wouldn’t have committed treason for anything less.”

He rolls his eyes before pressing another gentle peck to your lips and releasing you to get back your work. You take the opportunity to knock him out for now. It’s how he’ll be most comfortable.

And if you’re grinning so hard your face hurts, noone in deep space can see it. They can’t see you internally debating whether it’s ethical to dope someone up to get soppy confessions from them in the future either.

---------

It wasn’t often that General Dameron of the Resistance found himself in the Outer Rim.

Even 3 years after the end of the war, he was still mostly stuck to the core planets and mid-rim in efforts to support the Senate and help guard the peace which had settled upon the galaxy.

He’d been on a training mission with a few new recruits for Green Squadron when they’d been ambushed and they’d all received some pretty injuries despite eventually winning the battle. Injuries that required attention sooner than they would be able to if they headed back to base.

After a quick argument with Finn via the comms, the squad set course for a local med facility that was gaining a reputation for it’s high quality care.

Poe made sure all his squad were checked out before himself and he was happy that they were all being looked after so well. It was strange. The lead Doctor seemed familiar.

It wasn’t until you met his eyes that he realised.

You calmly continued his consultation, gently palpitating the wounds and collecting dressings, something you appeared to be doing more quickly than he was able to collect his thoughts.

“You!”

You snort. You can’t help it.

“Yes, me General Dameron.” You gently dab some bacta on some of the smaller cuts. “Did that break heal up correctly?”

He nods a bit dumbly. You’d been responsible for his care after Ren and a couple of the Stormtroopers had tortured him. You’d been a welcome relief, if he were honest. In fact, apart from the fact you’d worked for the First Order, he wasn’t aware of any accusations against you.

“I’m glad.” You finish wrapping his wrist and nod. “All done. Your pilots should be ready to go in around 2hrs, just to allow any drowsiness to wear off. I have some spare rooms if you need to stay on planet tonight?”

He thanks you profusely but explains that they are expected back tonight as you head back into the main waiting area. You shake his hand before leaving him and approaching a tall red-head across the room who instantly wraps his arm around your waist and drops a quick kiss on your head. You whisper to him for a few seconds and blue-green eyes suddenly lock with Poe’s before his face breaks out in a smile.

“General Dameron” Armitage says, approaching slowly and holding out a hand to a shell-shocked looking Dameron. “I’m glad you won. You and your squadrons are welcome to drop in here for treatment if you ever require it and are close by. Free of charge”

Poe, for his part, has a LOT of thoughts at this moment. Part of him wants to jump up and arrest him immediately whilst another screams that he was a spy and was seriously harmed because of it. It’s neither of these things that eventually seals his reaction though. It’s the loving glance Armitage throws your way as you offer them both coffee, the expression rendering him almost unrecognisable when juxtaposed against the version he used to know.

“Thank you.” He finally chokes out. “I’m assuming you’re not known by your old names?” Given the whole living in peace and not being turned into the authorities and all that?”

Hux just laughs.

“You would be correct. We’re both going by Y/N’s mother’s maiden name.”

“Oh?”

“Yes” Armitage says, looking far too amused. “We’re Armitage and Y/N Organa.”

Poe’s jaw drops to the flood. How on EARTH was he going to explain any of this?

Turns out, after it became the top recommended med centre by all members of the Resistance, he didn’t have to. He just had to keep pretending he didn’t know Hux had survived and not let Finn anywhere near. Poe was good at keeping his mouth shut.

Strange galaxy you live in really. And you couldn’t be happier

[skylarmoon71]

Bumblebee (Extra)

"Nothing exciting ever happens here, it's so damn boring. " your friend complained. You were sure if she knew half of what you did, she'd be thankful for the boring days.

"By the way, Mr. Henderson got a new assistant, I heard he's a real cutie, maybe we can get you a boyfriend."

"I'm not interested. " you didn't care for anyone but Bumblebee. Just the thought of him had you smiling. You opened your locker, switching books. "You keep saying that. Do you have a secret I should know about?" she raised a brow.

"Quit playing, it's nothing like that. I'm just interested in someone else already."

"I know, that's what you always say, when can I meet your mystery crush."

"It's a long distance thing, so who knows when." she just looked unimpressed. If you say so (Y/N)."

You kept walking, still chatting with your friend. Someone coming out hurriedly from a door in front of you made you backtrack. The male spun around, almost knocking into you. The frantic way in which he moved indicated that maybe he was looking for someone. When his brown eyes locked unto you, his smile got brighter.

He was decked down in a pair of slacks and a button up white shirt. The dark hair matched his pretty eyes. You weren't sure if he was a student of part of the faculty. You barely paid much mind to people other than the ones you conversed with on a regular basis.

"(Y/N)!" the excitement on the man's face was unnerving. What threw you completely off is his voice. It sounded exactly like the one in your dream that time with Bee. Your cheeks color, and you take some more steps back. "W-Who are you?" You can tell he wants to talk, but his eyes move to your friend.

"I'm uhhh, well that's a good question I'm.."

He's not really forming sentences, or making much sense. Your friend however is gushing.

"No need to get bashful, I can tell when I'm being a third wheel. See ya (Y/N)!" Her enthusiasm is high as she completely abandons you with this strange boy.

"She likes sushi!!" she calls, right before she's gone, all the way around the corner. You know she doesn't suspect that this guy is in any way harmful, but you don't have the same level of trust. The last guy that ran into you like this turned out to be a psychotic Decepticon hellbent on assassinating you. You aren't ready to replay that record anytime soon. You keep the distance between the both of you, watching him wearily.

"Listen, I don't know who you are, but this place is packed with people. There's no way you'd risk getting caught here." you're on the defense. But at least this time you're not alone in the building.

"What? Wait no no, I'm not a Decepticon (Y/N)." some more students buzz by, a few girls sending the male a little smile and wink. He doesn't even seem to register it. His focus is completely on you.

"I know I look different like this but I-" He takes a step forward, and you move back. He raises his hand to assure you there's no need to be afraid.

"It's me (Y/N). Bumblebee." You don't really believe at first, but when the quick glimmer of blue rushes over his orbs, you gasp in surprise. That look, the one he'd given so many times when you were just lounging around, There was no mistaking it.

"Bee..." He smiles in relief, rushing over and pulling you into his arms. He picks you up, spinning you around laughing, and you clutch unto him unprepared, letting out a small squeal.

"B-But how did you.." You just saw him this morning and he in no way looked like this.

"I'll tell you everything."

This was about to be one hell of a story.

~~~~

The next few hours feel like torture. You're so anxious for school to let out so you can talk to Bee, who you found out was the assistant mentioned earlier. The entire day he spent practically at your side when he wasn't working. You were still adjusting to the fact that he was walking around in your school. Another shocker was his ease carrying out the job. Being an advanced robot probably helped a lot in that department. The ringing of the final bell goes off, and before you can seek out Bumblebee, he's already found you.

"(Y/N)!!" His call directs a lot of female attention in your spot, and you avert your eyes. There were no doubt a few bitter girls. Bumblebee catches up, taking your hand into his. The smile he sends you banishes the stares you once felt, and he guided you out the school doors. Out of earshot of the other students, Bumblebee goes on a full on rant.

"This is so awesome! I never thought being human was this incredible, of course humans are amazing. Not as amazing as you of course (Y/N). You guys do some much down here although you're so tiny. Doesn't it get tiring being this small. And the girls at your school are really curious too, they kept asking so many questions. "

They were definitely hitting on him.

"I'm just so happy to be able to be with you like this. When Optimus first told me about it I was so skeptical, but look at me, I'm human!" his yell earned a weird look from a passer by, and you pulled him off to the side.

"M-Maybe don't say stuff like that in the open okay Bee." he looks at the woman who just walked by, giving a little smile and wave. She just keeps walking forward.

"Huh, thought humans liked it when you waved." he looks down at his hand to maybe inspect it to see if he did it wrong, and you just watch him. Parts of this still barely made sense, but you had to admit, the human version of Bumblebee was almost as cute as the autobot one. He still held that innocence and curiosity.

"Hey Bee, If you're here, who's' with Sam?"

"Oh, Ironhide. He said being human is overrated. He's gonna be Sam's ride for a while. I can still transform you know, wanna see!" you shake your head.

"N-Not here!" he blinks. "Oh, right right. Good call." just like that he's grinning again.

"I'm so glad I can hold hands with you like this." he takes your hand softly in his, and you do love the warmth it gives off. It's the same way you always feel around him.

"Let's get back to my house." Maybe when you're in your own environment you'd be able to question him freely.

~

The moment you step through your door you fully expect your mother to be there. Because for once, you're able to show her the boy you've been madly in love with for months. But you meet nothing but silence. "Mom?" you enter, and Bumblebee follows close behind. When you make out the note stuck to the fridge you sigh.

"Hey sweetheart, I have an overnight shift. There's money for pizza on the table when you get hungry. Enjoy!"

Figures.

"Hey Bee, can you come here for a second?"

"Yep!" He's by your side in seconds, and you pull out your phone, switching the camera.

"I just wanna take a picture to send to my mom. I was kind of hoping she'd be here, but she has to work late today. Say cheese." he turns to the camera and as you're about to snap the picture, he presses a kiss to your cheeks. You blush, a bit unprepared. The camera snaps it and you lower your hand, looking at him shyly. He just returns it with a cheeky smile. His eyes move down to the picture. "I love it." he mutters.

Although you know this is Bumblebee, to you it's still a bit strange. As a human, it almost feels like he's a different person. A lot more forward about everything. His eyes shift in your direction as you make your mini assessment, and something flickers in his brown orbs.

The minute they zero in on your lips, you take a step back lowering your head as you tuck the phone into your pocket. You start a trip to your room, and Bumblebee trails behind. The silence that follows has you a bit unnerved, so you decided now is as good a time as any to find out how it all came about.

"W-Well how about you tell me how this all happened Bee."

"Yeah.." His answer sounds distracted, and you peep to the side to read his expression as you're walking up the stairs. Upon entering your room, you open the door for him to step in. He does, closing it as he enters. His eyes dart from one side to the next, and the excitement returns tenfold. His eyes shine an electric blue, and you can only guess it's a lapse of control because he's so eager to see and understand it all.

"Your room is amazing!! " To you it isn't that great. There's a few posters on the walls of your favorite bands and artists. Your desk with all your school equipment and some little nicks and knacks to the side. The bed is situated a bit closer to the window that gives you a view of the neighborhood below.

"Thank you Bee."

His enthusiasm is so adorable, and it just reminds you why you adore the Autobot. He moves closer to the bed, poking the soft surface. "I-Is it alright if I sit down?" You nod.

"Of course Bee, make yourself at home." He's grinning, flopping back on the bed with a little cheer, and you giggle.

"Awesome!!"

"For you I guess this is all brand new. You guys don't exactly sleep like the rest of us. "

That and his adjusted size, you probably would have a similar reaction if you were in his shoes.

"I'm glad you like it." You placed your bag down, taking a seat on the bed. Bumblebee sat upright, shifting closer to you, and you just titled your head with a smile.

"What?"

"Nothing, I'm just really happy that we're this close."

There he goes again, saying stuff like that to make your insides flutter in the most heavenly way.

His body is now facing you, and you can practically feel the pull he's giving off as he looks at you. He bits his lower lip, and you can hear the small breath he takes as he begins to lean in. You pull back, standing and wringing your hands. "A-Are you hungry? We should get something to eat. '' you try to take a step to the door.

"Why do you do that?" you freeze in place. Bumblebee stands, and the hurt that he expresses causes your heart to constrict. He looks down at his palm as if searching for something.

"I thought if I looked like this it would bring us closer, but it seems to have done the exact opposite. Am I not appealing to you as a human?"

You rush over to him shaking your head. "Of course not Bee, you'd never be unappealing to me no matter how you look. Autobot or human, I love you regardless." As the words leave your lips, you become still. Neither of you have really said that particular word yet. You look away bashfully.

"I love you too (Y/N), so much."

He doesn't even need to say the words, you already know. Nevertheless, you love hearing it.

He takes your hands in his, and the warmth is familiar.

"Then why do you keep running from me?"

You need to explain, but it's just so embarrassing. The red that graces your cheeks only adds to Bumblebee's puzzle.

"Bee...do you remember when I kept avoiding you that week." His brows knit in utter confusion now. What did that have to do with anything. Truth be told he rather not remember. Because it was a tough week for him.

He was so convinced that he'd done something to tarnish your friendship, but he had no idea what it was. That's what drove him crazy. "I remember." He answers tightly.

"It wasn't because of anything you did, and I should have explained it all that day I was just so embarrassed about it all so I tried to deal with it on my own but I just made everything worse."

"I don't understand, what did you try to deal with?"

"Bee, I had a dirty dream about you."

"Dirty?" Oh how you wish you didn't have to explain that concept to him.

"A sexual dream." you clarified.

He stilled. "Sexual.." His brain seems to be computing the meaning behind the words. When he does, you can see the way his eyes become wide.

"B-But w-what I-I was still an h-how did you...I-I.." you cover your face.

"I-I'm sorry!!" you're mortified. "N-No it's fine I just never thought that you felt that way. For so long too." He sounds almost in awe. There were so many questions whirling in his mind. He knew since that day that he followed you to the warehouse that something was different. The way he felt about you was not the same as Sam or even Mikaela.

"(Y/N), how long have you...been in love with me?" He really needs an answer. It's important.

"I think..since that day that you touched me.."

Your hand moves to your cheek, the memory of it all rushing back. There was a light in his eyes that just struck you and nothing had been the same.

Bumblebee stands, and as he approaches, you kind of want to run. Not because you're scared, but the emotion that is revealed to you, it's so prominent, strong and almost raw. His hand reaches out, sliding against your cheek. You only manage one syllable before he claims your lips. A short sound leaves your lips, and his free hand secures around your waist, pulling you flush to his form. The sudden movement causes your hands to flatten on his chest. Your body is slowly but surely catching up with what's happening, and you grip at his shirt, letting out a moan.

"Bee.."

He doesn't relent. The eager kisses feel as though he's been deprived of the opportunity for centuries. Bumblebee's hold is firm, soft, loving. Your melting just by the sensations that travel through your body. He is pretty good at this. He slowly backs you up, and you fall ungracefully unto the bed. He barely processes it. Because his lips still have you captive. One of his hands press into the mattress, and the other links with your own, fingers entangled. This very moment, you pray that'll never end. He finally pulls back to regain his breath, and you're also fighting to get yours. You're both heaving, and you grin at him. He smiles back, pecking your lips.

"I'm really going to enjoy being human."

There's no doubt about that.