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shellbilee · 3 months ago

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Hey There Darlin' - Chapter 7

A Glen Powell RPF series

Can't believe how much this is growing. I'm so thankful for every like, reblog and comment. Sending all of my apologies for the delay, I've forgotten how hard smut is to write and I'm embarrassed to admit how many times I wrote and re-wrote this trying to make it perfect. Hope you enjoy! x

Thankyou to @zacksnydered for the gifs!

Warning - Smut heavy in this chapter.

Billie

“105! Dani, you did it girl!” Billie beams, grinning from ear to ear as she helps her patient re-rack the loaded barbell on the squat rack.

Dani’s grin matches Billie’s when she turns around and jumps into Billie to hug her, the two having a celebratory embrace at the new squat personal best. Dani was a sophomore who had torn a major ligament in her knee playing high-level basketball, and after close to six months of rehabilitation, she was back to squatting even more than she was pre-injury.

“I told you you could do it, I’m so proud of you!” Billie announces as they part, holding Dani’s shoulders and grinning back at her teenage patient.

Dani’s smile takes up her whole face. “Thank you so much Billie, honestly I couldn’t have done it without you”

Billie scoffs, “Don’t be silly. This was all you!”

“What’s 105 in pounds?” Dani asks, picking up her water bottle and looking back at Billie, “Also, when are you ever going to stop using kilograms?”

“About 240 pounds” Billie replies with a laugh, “And never. I can’t help it that my brain thinks in kilos. That’s what I learnt in school way back when, and that’s what I’m sticking with”.

Dani laughs, sitting down on the floor and stretching out her legs, Billie perching on a nearby plyometric box and looking down at Dani.

“So, same time next week?” Billie asks, pulling out her iPad and checking her patient diary for next week, “Two-thirty?”

Dani nods and Billie inputs the appointment, running through the plan for their next session before saying goodbye.

“Well done again Dani” Billie says, squeezing her shoulder as they walk out of the gym area, “We’re going to have you back on the court in no time at this rate”.

Dani grins and Billie nods, waving goodbye as Dani goes to get her things and Billie retreats into her office.

Almost immediately she picks up her phone, her stomach flip-flopping when she sees a text message notification from Glen. They’d transitioned to text messaging, having exchanged phone numbers on Sunday night, and despite it being two whole days, Billie wasn’t sure she would ever get used to seeing Glen Powell’s name pop up on her phone.

There’d been no shortage of interaction between the two of them, Glen and Billie texting back and forth - talking, flirting and sharing pictures of their day. Of Brisket and Nugget, of Billie out on a run, of Glen at the gym, a playful selfie here and there. Their texts had become increasingly flirtatious, and Billie was seriously struggling to keep her thoughts in check.

She was trying to focus on work - on Chelsea's niggling shoulder, on Derek’s hip that was catching every time he reached top speed on his sprint, on the brace that she had to order for Jimmy’s knee, but thoughts of Glen somehow kept inching their way in.

Billie felt like she was back in high school and with a teenage crush. Except this time, she was a grown up, and her teenage crush was a Hollywood celebrity.

She swipes across the screen to open his text message, nearly audibly groaning at what appears on her screen next. Glen was at a photo shoot today, and he’d sent her a little sneak preview.

How was it physically possible for anyone to be that good looking?

Honestly.

The man was literally sex on fucking legs.

The photo shows Glen dressed in a light blue shirt and jacket leaning against a door frame, his shirt unbuttoned and leaving very little of his chest to the imagination. Billie isn’t sure where to look first, torn between the delicious planes of his chest covered in a dark mess of hair, or his intense, intimate expression that makes Billie need to catch her breath. His jaw is covered in more stubble than when she’d seen him last, and suddenly she can’t help but wonder how it would feel when she kissed him.

Her fingers hover over the screen, her brain at a momentary loss of what to say.

How am I supposed to focus on the rest of work when you're looking like that 😍

Typing bubbles appear almost instantly, and Billie realises she’s smiling.

You’re not the only one having trouble focusing. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about seeing you tonight

Billie’s smile grows then, her whole body instantly flushing with warmth. She types back, knowing her thoughts have undoubtedly been very similar to his.

Surely that ‘lost in thought’ look is what works for photo shoots though?

She can almost hear Glen chuckling as he reads her words.

Except that they kept asking me why I seemed so distracted all through the shoot

Billie feels herself grin stupidly.

And what did you tell them?

I said that I had something I was looking forward to doing tonight

Billie nearly drops her phone at that, her breathing instantly ragged. Fuck.

And what might that be?

Seeing you, of course

Billie lets out a laugh then, loving their flirty back and forth.

She's already decided she’s going to sleep with Glen tonight. Not only because she was dying to, but because she knew there was no way she was going to be able to stop herself. How she'd done so on Sunday at his house she had no idea - she could still feel his lips on hers if she thought about it, tender and heated as he held her on the kitchen bench.

Billie grins and bites her bottom lip, fingers tapping on the screen.

See you at 8 darlin x

You’re trouble mister 🙈 I'm looking forward to you seeing you too.

“Am I allowed to know about whatever it is that's making you look at your phone like that?”

Billie's head snaps up when she hears her colleague Lisa's voice, seeing her standing in her office doorway with a curious look on her face.

“Nope” Billie says, sending a kiss face emoji back to Glen before locking her phone and quickly shoving it back into her pocket.

“Cmon B, we've worked together long enough for me to know that that” she says pointing at Billie's pocket, “Is absolutely something to do with a guy. So come on, spill”.

Billie grins, picking her water bottle up from her desk and bending to check her computer screen to see who her next client is.

“Need to know basis at this point, Lisa”

“Oh yeah? I don't even get a little hint?”

Billie laughs at her friend's insistence.

“Alright, here's one. He's fucking gorgeous”

Lisa rolls her eyes. “That's hardly a hint Bil”.

Billie shrugs, smiling sweetly and walking over to the doorway beside Lisa.

“That's all you need to know for now”.

“Need to know, or get to know?”

“Both”

“Did you meet him at Rufus on Friday?”

Billie shrugs again innocently. “Maybe”.

Lisa raises one eyebrow, running her fingers through her platinum blonde, spikey pixie cut.

“You know I'm going to keep asking you, yeah?”

Billie laughs, the two walking down the hallway and stopping at Lisa's office.

“And you know I’m going to keep deflecting your questions yeah?”.

Lisa punches her arm playfully and Billie grins, nodding at her friend before walking off to the waiting room.

“Billie!”

Billie stops short as she passes Ross’ office, her boss sitting at his desk and waving to her.

“Hey bossman”

“Just checking you’re still okay for the Monterey trip in August?”

Billie nods. “Sure am”.

Due to the clinic’s work with high school and college athletes, they often got asked to accompany teams to tournaments and competitions around the country. Billie had been on a few trips in her years at Evolution Sports Rehab, using them as a convenient excuse to see more of the US. So far she’d been to Florida, Atlanta and Boston, and several places in the greater California area.

A few weeks ago Ross had been contacted about a four day college football tournament in Monterey, California. He'd pitched the opportunity to her and the rest of the physical therapists at a clinic meeting last month and Billie had put her hand up to go. Namely, because Bec and Ben had a gorgeous beach house down in Monterey that Billie had spent countless girls' weekends at. Knowing that Bec wouldn't batter an eyelid if she asked to borrow it for a few days, she'd jumped at the idea of a mini getaway at the beach - even if she had to work for a little while she was there.

“Can you make sure you've done your stock order by the end of the week please? Whatever sports tapes and creams you think you'll need for it”

Billie exhales and leans her hip against the door frame, shaking her head at her boss.

“Why on earth do you think I haven't already done that Ross?” Billie asks, grinning when Ross rolls his eyes and laughs, “I mean we've only worked together for how long? It's like you don't know me at all”.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry” he says, waving her off.

Billie laughs and turns to exit his office, Ross’ voice making her stop.

“You seem like you’re in a good mood today?”

Billie turns to look at Ross curiously. “Am I not usually?”

Ross laughs. “You’re always happy and bubbly Billie, but it just feels like you have an extra spring in your step today”

Billie shrugs innocently, knowing full well that it's the evening activities she has planned that's making her seem giddy. But her boss certainly doesn't need those extra details.

Billie opens her mouth to respond but is cut off by Ross’ phone ringing, the two sharing a look that says ‘talk later’ without words. Ross nods at her before he picks up his phone, Billie waving him off and walking out to collect her next patient.

---

Billie is lighting her favourite coffee scented candle on the table when she hears the knock at the door, Nugget jumping from his bed and barrelling down the hallway like a rhino in a stampede. She puts the box of matches down and makes her way to the front door, pausing to quickly look over her reflection in the oversized hallway mirror.

She exhales heavily, looking back at her face.

Glen Powell is about to be in her house.

It's words she never thought she'd say in a million years, yet here she is, about to invite him in on a third date.

A third date, that she's very much hoping ends in the stereotypical way it's said that third dates do.

Billie is acutely aware of the way her heart is doing backflips in her chest, her insides feeling giddy as she pulls open the door.

“Hey there peach”

Billie's cheeks instantly flush at his nickname, never mind the utterly sexy smile on his face that makes her temporarily forget her own name. He’s dressed in a tight tan t-shirt that Billie can’t help but notice is nearly strangling his thick biceps, his hair fluffy and brushed back like it was in the photo he'd sent her earlier.

It takes everything she has not to jump him right there and then.

“Peach?” she questions with a grin at Glen, tilting her head and leaning her temple against the door edge.

He grins, shrugging his broad shoulders adorably. “I dunno, it just came to me”.

Billie laughs then, opening the door all the way and gesturing for Glen to come in. He’s holding a wriggling Brisket in one arm, the tiny dog desperate to get to Nugget who is similarly wriggling with excitement at Billie’s feet. Billie manages a quick hello pat before Glen bends and lets Brisket run off into the house, the two dogs galloping away already in play mode.

Glen steps inside and stands beside Billie, the heady scent of his delicious cologne instantly clouding her. She barely has time to close the door behind her before Glen's hands are on her, his lips finding hers in a heated kiss that leaves her breathless and wanting.

“I've been thinking about doing that all day” he whispers when they eventually part, his lips still only an inch from hers, one of his hands reaching up to tuck one side of her loose hair behind her ear.

It's the smallest gesture, but in an instant it has Billie melting.

“That makes two of us” Billie replies, her eyes never leaving his full lips, reaching for his jaw and pulling him back in for another tender kiss that he immediately deepens with his tongue.

God, if she didn't stop now they'd end up fucking in her hallway.

She forces herself away from him knowing that she’ll lose control if she lets their kiss continue for even a second longer, feeling her stomach squeeze in the best way when he keeps hold of her hand and lets her lead him down the hallway.

“Can I get you a drink?” Billie asks, gesturing for Glen to take a seat and walking over to open the back door for Nugget and Brisket to go outside, “I’ve got beer, wine, soda or water”.

“I’ll take a beer please” he says, pulling out a stool and sitting down, resting his elbows on the bench.

Billie can’t help but smile at the sight of him sitting in her kitchen. It all seems so domestically normal, but really, it’s anything but that. It’s like she has to actively work to keep her eyes from staring at him - at his thick, tanned forearms, his full, plump lips, or his gorgeous green eyes that are currently following her around her kitchen. The kitchen of which, she’d happily let him take her on every single surface of.

She exhales silently through her nose.

Fuck.

“I realise that I should have asked this earlier” Billie asks suddenly, turning and opening the fridge to retrieve a beer and an already opened bottle of pinot grigio, “But please tell me you eat sushi? Because I definitely don’t have an option B prepared”

Glen laughs, his deep chuckle echoing in the kitchen. “I do. Did you order in?”

Bille shakes her head, popping the cap off the beer and handing him the bottle. “No, we’re making it”

Glen eyes her curiously, one eyebrow raised. “I’ve never made sushi before”.

“It's easy, I promise”, Billie says as she pours herself a glass of white wine, lifting the glass to her lips and taking a sip, “I’ve got it all ready to go”.

“How was work today?” Glen asks when Billie starts taking her already chopped and prepared ingredients out of the fridge and laying them on the bench in front of Glen.

She tells him about Dani, her patient that pulled a new personal best, and about the Monterey trip in August.

“Do you go on trips like that often?”

Billie shrugs as she peels two sheets of dried seaweed from the packet, laying them on the bamboo mats in front of her and Glen.

“I've been on a few actually. The last one was a baseball tournament in Boston last October” she explains as she pulls the bowl of now cooled sushi rice from the stove onto the bench, “I went with Shanya, one of my younger colleagues and honestly it felt more like a holiday than work. We had the best time. Got to see Fenway too, which was definitely a highlight”.

Glen listens intently as she talks, Billie feeling his eyes on her as she leans against the bench and takes another sip of her wine. She loves the way each part of her body feels as he looks at her, her mind soon wandering and imagining how his hands would feel instead.

For a second she seriously considers completely ditching dinner and moving straight to the part of tonight she’s been thinking about all day.

“Okay so do you have any idea how to do this?”

Glen shakes his head no, the adorable expression on his face making Billie laugh.

“The hardest part is making sure you don't put too much rice, and then the rolling of course” Billie explains, using a spoon to flatten a layer of rice onto the seaweed sheet, “Then you just add your fillings long ways like this” she adds, arranging salmon, avocado and Japanese mayonnaise horizontally across the rice.

She wets her fingers and carefully rolls up the seaweed, looking up at Glen when she's produced a perfect looking sushi roll.

“See, easy right?”

Glen laughs, clearly not convinced.

They spend the next fifteen minutes making sushi, Billie offering her best constructive criticism and chuckling when Glen's first attempt immediately unrolls on the plate. The second one is a little better albeit has filling falling out the sides, Glen clapping his hands in triumph when it stays put on the plate and making Billie laugh harder.

If her life were a movie, this scene would be shown as a video montage in the kitchen with a fun pop song in the background, cutting between snippets of Billie and Glen laughing and grinning at one other.

She can’t help but smile stupidly at the thought.

“Wow, you can't half tell which ones are mine” Glen comments when they’ve finished, taking a sip of his beer as Billie clears the empty prep plates into the sink, “Mine look terrible”.

Billie scoffs. “For someone that’s never made sushi before, I think they’re a pretty good first attempt”

Glen flashes her a grateful smile that Billie returns with her own, asking him to refill their drinks as she sets about slicing the sushi rolls and bringing them over to the table.

“How old are you in this photo?”

Billie looks up at Glen to find him pointing at one of the many photos on her fridge door, walking closer to see that it’s the one of her and Sloane at Camp America.

It's one of her favourite photos, her and Sloane standing with their arms wrapped around each other, faces plastered with enormous happy smiles as they balance precariously on stand up paddleboards.

A split second after the photo was taken, they'd lost their balance and splashed into the freezing but stunning turquoise blue waters of Lake Tahoe.

To this day, Billie wasn't sure if it was the happiness on their faces or the memory of them falling and laughing that made her love the photo so much.

“That would have been seven years ago now, so twenty three, twenty four?” Billie replies, coming to stand next to Glen and looking back at the photo nostalgically, “God that was an incredible Summer”.

“You know what’s incredible?” Glen asks, tilting his head as he looks down at Billie beside him, “You in that bikini’. Fuckin’ hell darlin’’”

“Oh stop it” Billie replies, punching Glen’s shoulder playfully.

“I'm serious, peach. You'd have driven all of the teenage boys crazy looking like that” Glen adds, clicking his tongue as he looks back at the photo, “I can just imagine them all lining up to have you as their camp counsellor”.

Billie laughs. “Actually, I was mostly in charge of teaching water sports and leading hikes”.

“And they were the most popular activities?”

Billie grins. “They were pretty popular, yes”.

Glen's face splits into an even bigger grin, Billie shaking her head and walking back over to the table.

“So what about you?” Billie asks when they’re both seated minutes later, taking a sip of her now full wine glass and looking across at Glen, “How was your day? The photoshoot?”.

Glen’s eyes are narrowed as he momentarily focuses on dipping a slice of sushi roll into the bowl of soy sauce without dropping it, Billie glancing over at Nugget and Brisket and smiling when she sees them both squeezed onto the dog bed in the living room.

“It went well, as good as photoshoots can go I suppose” he reasons, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, “After a while, they sort of all blend together. But sometimes they’re fun”

“Do you at least get to keep the clothes?”

Glen laughs. “Sometimes. But also, some of the shit they get you to wear, I don’t know what they’re thinking sometimes”

Billie laughs then, covering her mouth as she chews.

They soon settle into a quiet comfort, eating, talking and laughing.

Billie isn't sure she’s ever met a man who could make her laugh as much as Glen did, and certainly not one that she could have such a rich conversation with at the same time. Not only that, the way Glen looked at her as she spoke - like she’s the most stunning, intriguing, sexy thing that he’s ever laid his eyes on.

It was hard not to feel fucking incredible when he looked at her like that.

Billie smiles to herself and lets out a silent breath as she settles back into her chair, her mind quietly wondering about all the other ways that Glen could make her feel.

Fuck.

---

Glen

Glen relaxes back into the couch, cold beer in hand as he watches Billie standing at the back door waiting for the dogs to come back inside after their dinner. For the millionth time in the hour and a bit that he’s been here, he pushes away the sinful thoughts of Billie that have all but plagued his mind for the last three days.

She looks somehow even better than he remembered from Sunday, today dressed in a pair of slouchy denim cut offs that end high on her toned, tanned thighs, and a loose white knit sweater that seems to keep slipping down to reveal one smooth, bare shoulder. The top half of her hair is pulled back from her face with a tortoiseshell coloured clip, a few loose bits falling around her face as the rest tumbles down her back in soft, chocolate waves.

He wonders idly if she has any idea how god damn sexy she is, Glen forcing himself to look away from her bare legs when she whistles for Nugget and Brisket to hurry up.

He looks around the living room, loving the homey details that are so uniquely Billie, his eyes falling on a photo book on the coffee table in front of him. He reaches for the book and starts to flip through it, smiling at each new page of the lovingly snapped and collated photos that display all of the people and things that Billie loves.

There’s multiple snaps and pictures of Nugget - from when he was an adorable tiny puppy all the way through the giant golden bear that he is now. Of him and Billie at the beach - Billie kneeling and smiling happily at the camera while Nugget stands saturated and panting beneath her arm, of Billie laughing as she holds Nugget like a baby - his head flopped upside down and tongue lolling out to the side, a selfie of the two of them with their faces side by side.

Next is photos of Sloane, Bec and Billie at various times - the three of them posing and dressed to the nines at a formal event, another of them each holding a fruity cocktail, sun-kissed and smiling as they stand on beach somewhere tropical, and another of the three of them standing together arms intertwined with their heads thrown back in laughter.

Glen looks up when Billie comes over to the couch, shifting to give her more room when she sits down beside him. Her sweet, peachy perfume fills his nose as she leans into him, her knees bent and folded beneath her. He smiles down at her for a moment, Billie oblivious to his gaze as she picks up her phone and navigates to Spotify, a soft Luke Combs song suddenly playing from the living room speaker.

Glen looks back at the book as Billie sips her wine, flipping the page and looking down at a picture of Billie standing arm in arm with a guy. It takes him a second to realise that he has the same honey-green eyes as Billie, the shape of their smiles similarly wide and happy.

“Is this Bradley?” Glen asks, noting more similarities between the two of them the more he looks at the picture.

Billie nods.

“And that” she adds, leaning over and pointing to two pictures on the page next to it, “Is Harrison and Kiara”.

“Kiara looks like you” Glen comments looking down at the adorable brunette girl in the picture, Billie leaning her head on Glen’s shoulder and smiling almost nostalgically.

“Bradley and Jordyn say that all the time”.

Glen looks down at Billie and smiles softly.

“You miss them”

“Everyday” she replies, letting out a quiet exhale, “You know what it’s like with nieces and nephews”.

Glen smiles gently but doesn’t say anything, closing the book after a few more pages and turning to look at Billie.

“So you said you don’t start until late tomorrow?”

Billie nods, turning so that her body is facing Glen, leaning one elbow on the back of the couch and resting her cheek in her hand. “Yep. I’m going to that gymnastics meet. So I don’t have to be in until 12”

“So you can sleep in then?”

A grin slowly grows on Billie's face then, a playful look in her bright hazel eyes.

“I can, yes”.

Glen can’t help the expression that takes over his face.

“I like sleeping in”.

Billie raises one eyebrow, her head tilting as she looks back at him.

“Is that right?”

His lips stretch into a mischievous grin and he nods, Billie grinning as she taps her fingers against the wine glass in her free hand.

“You know what I like even more?” he breathes, reaching out to tuck stray hairs behind Billie’s ear as his eyes fall to her plush lips.

“Tell me”

“Kissing you”

Glen’s hand cups her smooth cheek and he leans in and kisses her, pressing his lips to hers in a soft, tender embrace. He can taste the wine on her tongue, her mouth moving against his in a way that makes his stomach flip, Glen moving his hand into her hair and deepening their intimate kiss.

Billie lets out a soft moan that he swallows with his lips, the sound making Glen’s whole body stir in the best way. He can feel his arousal growing, his heart starting to race, his grip tightening in Billie’s hair as he explores her mouth with his tongue.

He wants more, needs more, suddenly desperate to feel more of Billie beneath his fingertips.

Glen pulls away for a second, lungs starting to burn, reaching down to take the wine glass from her hands and deposit it on the coffee table. Billie understands the action immediately, barely waiting for Glen to sit back before she’s climbing into his lap, straddling his legs and wrapping her arms around his neck.

Her lips are back on his in an instant, their kiss immediately deepening, Glen kissing her hungrily as his hands fall to her waist and grip at the thickest part of her hips. The feel of her curves in his hands makes him dizzy, even more so when Billie threads her fingers into his hair and drags her nails against his scalp.

He groans then, the sound clearly having an effect on Billie, her hips grounding down into him in response. He’s hard now, painfully hard, and he knows Billie can feel it as she starts to rock her hips into him.

Fuck he wants her, every single part of her, all over him and everywhere.

Glen finds the hem of her sweater, sliding his fingers underneath the thin cotton and onto her buttery-soft skin, pressing his fingers into her warm flesh and pulling her flush against his chest. The action makes Billie break their kiss, dropping her head back as a breathy moan escapes her, Glen not missing a beat and dragging his lips along her jaw.

He’s overwhelmed by her scent - sweet and heady and driving every one of his senses mad, completely lost in her as he kisses her ear, her neck, her collarbone.

“Fuck, Glen” Billie sighs, her voice barely louder than a whisper, a wanting, almost pained moan following when Glen sucks at the thin skin near the base of her throat.

He’s just about to move lower, all of a sudden desperate to have his lips on her chest, Billie suddenly somehow reading his mind and reaching for the bottom of her sweater. He pulls back for just a moment, hands helping to peel the soft material from her body, a groan he can’t control falling from him at the sight that’s now in front of him.

He doesn’t know where to look first, painfully aware of the way his length is straining in his jeans beneath Billie, eyes glued to her breasts held in only just by a small, black bralette. They’re not big but they’re certainly not small, round and perky and threatening to fall out of the thin cotton material with the smallest of movements. He can see her nipples straining against the fabric, his tongue reflexively wetting his lips at the sight, his breathing turning ragged when he reaches out and cups her soft flesh.

Billie drops her head back again, sounding nothing short of perfect when she sighs his name, every single one of Glen’s muscles clenching as she arches her back into his hands and all but begs for his touch. He kneads her tits in his hands, thumbs swiping roughly over her covered nipples, looking up when Billie lifts her head back up and gazes down at him with seductive, hooded eyes.

“Fuckin’ hell peach, you’re gorgeous” Glen breathes, words trailing off into another strangled groan when Billie rolls her hips against his.

She cups his face with both hands and pulls him back in for a kiss, this time hungry and feverish, like she can’t get enough of him fast enough. Glen responds eagerly, licking into her mouth and matching her desperation, his hands palming her harder as his thumbs drag the thin cotton down so that her breasts fall free.

The sound she lets out when he plays with her nipples is absolutely sinful, the way her breathing becomes instantly shaky making Glen want to growl. He breaks their kiss by biting down on her bottom lip, leaving her mouth and licking his way down to her chest.

In that moment he swears he could stay there forever, drunk on Billie’s scent, her taste and feel beneath his lips, kissing and mouthing her smooth, silky skin. She cries out when his lips close around her left nipple, her back arching into his chest and his free hand moving to hold her there. He suckles at her, loving the way she all but shudders in his arms, her hips increasing their pressure with each new roll against him.

“Glen” she breathes, her voice soft and erotic, her hands threading once again into his hair and tugging gently, “Bedroom. Let’s go to the bedroom”

Reluctantly he releases her nipple - though not before savouring her for one more delicious moment, his grip on her waist tightening when she moves to stand up from his lap. He’s having none of that, instead moving both of his arms to her thighs, Billie letting out a surprised chuckle when he stands up from the couch with her wrapped firmly in his arms.

“Direct me, darlin’”

Billie laughs and bends and kisses him, Glen loving the plush, swollen feel of her lips, the two grinning back at one another as she instructs him to head down the hall to the last room on the left.

He’s instantly distracted by Billie’s breasts in his face, unable to stop himself from immediately returning his lips to her sensitive flesh, navigating around the couch blindly as Billie tries to concentrate on guiding him.

Bumping into a side table and the wall of the hallway, several giggles fall from the both of them as they eventually make it to the bedroom. Glen bends and sits Billie down on the edge of the bed, her eyes never leaving his as she peels off her bralette and pulls the clip from her hair, Glen simultaneously shedding his t-shirt.

He loves the way she looks back at him then, her eyes sultry and wanting as they roam over his now shirtless torso, Glen’s own gaze dragging between her swollen lips and naked chest. Just when he thinks Billie couldn’t possibly look any sexier - a seductive, wanton goddess, all flushed cheeks and tousled hair, he sees her hands move to her shorts and watches as her fingers make quick work of the button and zip.

Glen feels like he’s frozen then, unable to do anything but watch, his breath coming short and heavy as Billie slowly, torturously, shimmies the denim material down her legs. She slides them down to her ankles and lifts both feet in the air towards Glen, daring him to take them from her as the new position of her legs teases an explicit view of between her thighs.

A groan falls from Glen, low and rumbling from somewhere deep within him, Billie grinning seductively when he grabs the shorts from her ankles and tosses them onto the floor behind him. She moves to scoot backwards but is stopped by Glen’s hand on her calf, Glen instead pulling her closer to the edge of bed as he lowers himself to the floor in front of her.

He doesn’t miss the soft whimper that falls from Billie when he pulls her legs apart and rests her thighs on his shoulders, the sight of her naked save for a skimpy, black cotton thong stirring something primal in him. He swears he could look at her all day like this, feeling dizzy from the sight of her, the smell of her arousal, the sound of her increasing breathing. He swallows thickly, his throat suddenly dry, his own arousal throbbing painfully inside his jeans as he thinks about what he’s about to do.

Glen’s been thinking about doing this since the moment he first kissed Billie, wondering what she’d taste like, what she’d feel like and what she’d sound like coming undone on his tongue. It’s his favourite thing to do - something he enjoys arguably more than sex, unsure if it’s the way he can tease and bring them right to the edge, the sight of them when they eventually fall apart above him, or the way they feel when they spasm against his mouth that he loves so much.

He inhales heavily, hands sliding beneath Billie’s ass and grabbing at the thick part of her thighs, holding her steady and bending to press a kiss to her hip. He grins to himself when she lets out the softest whimper, looking up to see her eyes trained on him, her lips pressed together as her chest rises and falls quickly.

He loves the desperate look in her eyes, he’s mad for it, feeling the electric tension in the air as she silently begs him to kiss her lower.

He kisses along the waistband of her thong, moving slowly as he holds her steady, tongue drawing delicate circles along her sensitive skin. He knows he’s driving her mad, watching as her jaw clenches and her fingers flex into the sheets below her, her eyes following his every movement. He grins as he moves lower, kissing over the cotton now, feeling her heat beneath the material as his fingers dig into her harder. He holds her gaze for a moment longer, electricity and an unspoken communication between them, finally tearing his eyes away and looking down as he hooks his finger and pulls her panties to the side.

And god if it’s not the most gorgeous sight he’s ever seen, his deep muscles clenching in the most delicious, desperate way.

He groans.

“Fuck peach, look at you”.

His eyes run over her syrupy folds, pink and glistening and begging to be tasted, his tongue wetting his lips before he bends and kisses her sex. The second his mouth is on her Billie tosses her head back into the sheets, a beautiful, breathy moan falling from her that makes Glen grip her harder.

He doesn’t waste any time, burying his tongue into her velvet flesh, his nose brushing her clit as he kisses her open-mouthed like he would her lips. The moans he teases from Billie are nothing short of erotic, an intimate melody Glen would happily listen to for hours. He brings his fingers to her sex and uses his thumbs to spread her open, licking and sucking at her sensitive flesh until he feels her muscles starting to tremble.

His name falls from her lips between a myriad of expletives, her voice slowly getting louder as her body starts to writhe on the bed. Glen knows he’s got her then, knowing he’s close to teasing out her first release, determined to give her as many as she can take as he quickens the pace with his tongue.

“Oh Glen fuck” she moans when his lips find her clit, circling and sucking as her hips start to ground into his mouth.

He groans into her folds, loving how she’s practically fucking his face, moving one hand to her pubic bone and flattening down to hold her steady. She sucks in a long, shuddering breath and Glen knows she’s almost there, increasing his pace with his tongue and watching as she tries to buck her hips against his hold.

“I’m close Glen, I’m close” she breathes, moans punctuating her words, her eyes squeezed shut as her hands fist into the sheets.

“That’s it darlin’, let me hear you” Glen whispers against her, sucking one of her luscious folds into his mouth and loving the way she cries his name, “I wanna hear you, peach”.

Keeping one hand flat on her pelvis, he drags two fingers through her folds and coats them with her slick, easing them inside her and looking up when she cries out in pleasure. Glen groans out loud, his eyes not knowing where to focus first, torn between the way his fingers look knuckles deep within her, the sight of her wet, syrupy folds practically dripping onto his hand, and her gorgeous, near naked form trembling on the bed.

Glen can’t get enough.

And neither can Billie.

He curls his fingers in the way that he knows will drive her mad, bending and kissing her slick flesh before lavishing it with his tongue. He quickens his pace, fucking her with his fingers and sucking at her clit, Billie’s cries becoming gorgeously desperate as her body soon starts to shake.

In that moment he knows he has her, letting out a heavy breath and coaxing her over the edge.

“Just like that Bil’, that’s it” he breathes against her slit, just loud enough for her to hear over her breathy moans, “Come on darlin’, give it to me. Come for me, sweets”.

His words are her undoing and in an instant he feels her entire body tense and release, Billie’s back arching away from the bed as her head tosses back in ecstasy. His name falls from her lips like a desperate prayer and her hips buck beneath his hold, the sight and sound of Billie’s orgasm taking over her so fucking beautiful that Glen can’t help but stare enamoured. He coaches her through her release, still fucking her slowly with his fingers, eventually stilling within her when she grabs his wrist silently telling him to stop.

He bends and kisses her velvety folds gently, withdrawing his fingers and watching in awe when her body spasms with tiny aftershocks, looking up to see Billie’s chest heaving as she lays back painting on the bed before him.

He crawls his way up her body, leaving kisses on her heated skin - her hip, her breast, her collarbone, hovering above her and grinning down at her adorable post-orgasm bliss smile.

“You’re an absolute sight when you come darlin’” Glen whispers, bending and kissing her parted lips gently, “Never seen anything more fuckin’ sexy”.

Billie’s eyes flutter open, taking a second to focus on Glen above her, her swollen lips stretching into a soft, playful smile.

“I have” she whispers after a moment, lifting her hands to cup his jaw and pull him down for a kiss, “Your face looking up at me from between my thighs is something I won’t be forgetting anytime soon”.

Glen lets out a deep chuckle, lowering himself onto her and rolling his hips so that his painfully evident arousal presses into Billie’s belly. The action teases a soft, sexy moan from her throat, and suddenly he can’t help but think of another half a dozen things he’d like to do and make her not forget about.

He bends to kiss her then, capturing her lips in a heated, sensual kiss, her hands reaching out and roaming his naked back as his length presses against her, thick, hard and wanting. All at once the tension between them is building again, a growing desire licking at Glen’s insides like a raring, burning fire.

In an instant he can’t think of anything except for how much he wants Billie, how much he wants to make her come again, to bury himself inside her and fuck her over and over into the sheets beneath them - to watch her, hear her, feel her come undone around his cock.

His thoughts make Glen groan into her mouth, forcing himself away and quickly jumping from the bed, Billie propping herself up on her elbows to watch as he reaches for his belt buckle and makes quick work of his belt, jeans and underwear. He stands stark naked then, loving the seductive, hooded gaze that's returned to Billie's face, reaching down to stroke himself as her eyes run over his body and back again.

He's hard, painfully hard, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, looking over her parted lips and down to the tiny black thong that's still pushed to the side and affording him the most sinful view of her still slick folds. She’s like a siren, a vixen, a goddess if ever he's seen one.

And fuck he just can't get enough of her.

Especially not when she reaches over to her nightstand and pulls a condom from the top drawer, scooting backwards into the pillows and winking one gorgeous eye at him. He grins back devilishly, needing no instruction after that, crawling back onto the bed and cupping her jaw, kissing her hungrily as he takes the condom from her fingers.

“You ready darlin’?” he asks when he’s rolled it down his length seconds later, parting Billie’s legs and resting one of her ankles on his shoulder.

She only nods, her chest rising and falling with desperate anticipation, the look in her eyes telling him everything he needs to hear without words. He strokes himself roughly, cursing at the sight of his length dragging through her slick, lining himself up with her velvety folds and exhaling loudly as he meets her eyes once more.

Glen wets his lips and grins, loving the way Billie looks back at him then.

“Hold on, peach. Gonna show you somethin’ else you won’t wanna forget any time soon”.

----

Previous Chapter

TAG LIST:

@angclvings @auntiegigi @friedchips94 @memories-in-bw @maeleelee @jessicab1991 @bellaireland1981 @queenslandlover-93 @itsjustkhaos @kneelforloki @djs8891 @lovemesomevesey @entertainmentgirl80 @buckysteveloki-me @stankface @fore45fore @sqrlgrrl2

#glen powell #glen powell fic #glen powell fanfic #glen powell series #glen powell smut #glen powell x ofc #glen powell fluff

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wheelie-sick · 11 months ago

Text

Basic dislocation/subluxation first aid

Keep in mind I am not a doctor, this is information I've gathered from medical sources and personal experience. I've done my best to link sources.

Some vocabulary first:

Dislocation - A bone is out of place to the extent that the bones are no longer touching

Subluxation - A bone is partially out of place but still touching the other bone

Dangers

When dealing with frequent dislocations and subluxations it's important to note that dislocating some joints is more dangerous than dislocating other joints. While all dislocations are medical emergencies some people choose not to go to the hospital for all dislocations and subluxations they experience however there are some that absolutely require emergency attention. In particular:

Vertebrae - Dislocating or subluxating a vertebra will cause a spinal cord injury. It's important that you seek emergency care to evaluate the extent of the damage and prevent further damage as severing your spinal cord completely can be fatal.

Collarbone - If your collarbone dislocates inwards it's important to seek emergency care to prevent further damage. A dislocated collarbone can cause life threatening problems with breathing and blood flow.

Knee - If your knee (not kneecap) dislocates it's important to seek emergency care as up to 40% of knee dislocations cause vascular injury that can threaten the entire limb if untreated

And while not all dislocations and subluxations are life or limb threatening all will damage your soft tissues in the surrounding area. A joint popping out of place is bludgeoning in all the surrounding structures in the process. That's why it's important to take care of your dislocations and subluxations correctly.

Improperly healing a dislocation or subluxation also poses its own risks. When dislocations and subluxations first happen the tissues holding the joint in are damaged making it easier to dislocate/subluxate a joint again. Not allowing these tissues to heal poses risk of additional dislocations and subluxations and can create a vicious cycle of tissue damage.

Reduction (Relocation)

Jaw

Vertebra - Go to the ER

Collarbone - Requires medical assistance

Shoulder

Elbow

Finger

Hip

Knee

Kneecap

Ankle

Toe

There were no available guides on reduction for wrists and ribs

What to do following a dislocation/subluxation

Reduce the joint

Apply a brace or splint to the joint. This brace will need to stay on for several weeks-months to allow the soft tissues to heal. This brace is more than a day-long commitment. Bracing is important because it stabilizes the joint while soft tissues heal and prevents further dislocations/subluxations.

Take weight off of the joint/avoid using the joint for 1-2 weeks. When people have been dealing with chronic pain it's easy to try to continue using a recently dislocated/subluxated joint. That joint needs time to heal and that healing will only happen with rest.

-> "I dislocate/subluxate joints so frequently that I cannot possibly do this"

I would make sure that what you're experiencing are actually dislocations/subluxations. A lot of people with disorders that cause subluxations/dislocations mistake ligaments and tendons popping for subluxations and mistake subluxations for dislocations. This causes people to think they are subluxating/dislocating many more joints than they actually are.

If you are truly experiencing that many dislocations/subluxations I would strongly recommend speaking to an orthopedist to discuss bracing and/or surgery for your joints.

If you aren't able to see an orthopedist it's still worth trying the above steps to the best of your ability.

#hypermobile ehlers danlos syndrome #hypermobility spectrum disorder #cripple punk #cripplepunk #physical disability #physically disabled

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snippy-tano · 1 year ago

Text

Old Injuries

surprise! i’m back!

at least for this request anyways. this request came from a commenter on ao3! so thank you AnimeWeeb_2001!! basically they requested a one-shot with Hunter where the reader hurt her leg during a mission they were on together and kept it from Hunter until she literally collapsed and couldn’t walk anymore. basically some solid Hunter fluff.

and I am very happy to oblige!

so here it is! hope you all enjoy it!

masterlist is here!

taglist is here!

tagging: @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life; @marvel-starwars-nerd; @mackstrut; @dissapointingpancake; @ahsokatano-thetogruta; @welcometothepedroverse; @padawancat97; @fractiouskat; @mandaloriandin; @bantha-shit; @badbatch-simp24; @katelynnwrites; @s1st3r; @leotatombs; @torchbearerkyle; @rain-on-kamino; @the-navistar-carol; @bombshe77; @arctrooper69; @social-mockingbird; @littlebluebatbrat; @get-wr3ckered; @flowered-bicycles; @idoubleswearimawriter; @eris-k; @dangraccoon

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

The mission itself was meant to be easy.

A quick in-and-out that didn’t require the entire Batch. Which is why it was only you and Hunter who went. And for the most part, it had been going smoothly.

You had both split up to cover more ground and make sure exit routes were clear. Hunter had commed you moments before stating that his path was clear and he was heading to the rendezvous point.

You had no sooner echoed your own confirmation of a clear path and turned off the comm when your foot stepped in a small hole and pain exploded throughout your leg. You instantly saw stars and your good knee hit the stone ground.

You forced your eyes open and looked back, seeing a small cracked hole in the pavement. If you had been paying attention, it was absolutely avoidable.

Back when you were a teenager, you injured your knee playing a game of boloball with some neighborhood kids. It was as simple as some torn ligaments and you had made a full recovery at that time. But occasionally, if it was particularly cold or if you slept strangely, it would ache.

In this case, all it took was stepping in a hole for the condition to flare up in the worst possible way. You knew you didn’t tear anything, at least you were pretty sure. It didn’t quite feel as painful as it did the first time, so you were fairly confident that you only slightly re-injured your knee.

But you had to admit, it kriffing hurt.

You let out a groan of pain, blinking your eyes to get rid of the fuzziness and tears. Your hand went to your knee, as you forced yourself to take a few deep breaths, trying to will the pain away or at least hope that it lessened to a more manageable level. But that was not happening.

Kriff this was bad.

Really really bad.

Hunter’s voice calling your name over the comm dragged you out of your fog. “-you okay? Are you there? Report. I’m at the rendezvous.”

“‘M fine.” You choked out a response, grabbing your blaster and forcing yourself to your feet despite the agonizing pain. “I’m almost there.”

You stumbled to the edge of the alleyway, bracing your hand on the cool brick of a building. You took a few deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth. When your vision focused and you could breathe again, you started moving.

Each step was like agony. Your knee felt like it was on fire and every slight movement had pain shooting through your leg. It was far more intense than it had been in a long time, which worried you.

But you needed to focus. Hunter was relying on you for this mission.

You would not fail.

Pain was an old friend. You had this under control.

You spotted a figure in the distance among the busy market and you forced another deep breath into your lungs. The figure turned and you met eyes with Hunter who gave you a nod as you approached.

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Are you okay?”

You willed your heart to stop beating so rapidly and your breathing to calm down. You plastered a small smile on your face. “I’m fine, just ready to get this over with.”

Hunter let out a soft chuckle. “You and me both. Come on.”

He turned and headed into the crowd and you followed as closely as you could. The pain had not lessened in the slightest, in fact it had only gotten worse.

You may not have torn anything this time around, but if you kept walking on your leg, you just might end up reinjuring it.

Stop. Focus.

Hunter entered a building and you stepped in after him, taking a glance around the darkened bar. He took a moment to gaze around the bar before walking towards a booth in the back corner.

You headed for the bar, practically collapsing in a stool with a wince. A bartender appeared in front of you almost instantaneously.

“You look like you could use a drink.”

Normally you’d refuse.

Now was not the time or place to have a drink. You were on a mission and needed to be completely sober. But the throbbing, stabbing pain in your leg was a powerful motivator.

“Give me something strong.” You rasped out and the bartender grinned.

“Coming right up.”

While you waited, you again focused on your breathing.

Kriff you were so stupid. How could you do this on a mission? Hunter was relying on you and you injured yourself.

Kark.

A glass appeared in front of you and you gave the bartender a grateful look before lifting the glass and downing the amber liquid in one go. The burn down your throat momentarily distracted you from the pain in your leg. You could feel the warmth beginning to seep into your body and felt yourself take a shuddering breath.

You glanced over at the corner of the bar and saw Hunter speaking quietly with the man in the corner booth. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but it didn’t look like it was going poorly.

At least not yet.

You heard the sound of liquid being poured and turned to see the bartender refilling your glass. When he saw your confused look, he chuckled softly. “This one’s on the house. You look like you could use it.”

You gave him a quick grateful smile that he returned before stepping away to tend to other patrons seated at the bar. You looked at the glass in front of you, fingers playing with the cool condensation on the glass.

You shouldn’t.

Your first drink wasn’t nearly enough to get you even remotely tipsy, but you really shouldn’t be drinking. Not while on a job.

But then you thought about your leg and the continuous stabbing pain.

And you downed the next one.

You pushed the glass away as the drink burned a path down your throat and again began to warm your limbs. You pulled out some credits, probably more than the first drink was for, but you wanted to repay the bartender at least something for his kindness.

You felt the ghosting of a hand at your back and turned to see Hunter with a bag now slung over his shoulder. His eyes flicked to the empty glass, but he didn’t say anything.

You stood up, clenching your jaw and the pain in your knee as it protested you standing on it again. The bartender gave you a small wave and you returned the gesture with a nod as you followed Hunter out of the bar.

As soon as you were back in the crowd, Hunter began to speak.

“Are you sure-“

“-did you get what we needed?” You interrupted and he hesitated for a moment.

You were only here to “recover” something that had been “stolen” from Cid by someone she’d managed to piss off, which didn’t surprise you. You honestly weren’t even sure if it was Cid’s to begin with, but she was insistent and concluded that a small party would be better, hence why it was only you and Hunter.

Your contact, the man in the corner of the bar, had “stolen” what was “stolen” from Cid and offered it for a price that Cid deemed acceptable. It was a ridiculous mission and you’d make sure to tell her when you returned.

“Yes. We can go.”

You took another two breaths, in through the nose and out through the mouth.

You both moved fairly quickly through the busy market streets, heading to where you had parked the Marauder. You were almost there, almost home free.

You could rest your knee and finally get off this planet.

There was some movement in front of you and you looked up just in time to see two kids running through the street towards you. You barely had time to brace yourself before one of the kids ran into you, shouting an apology as they kept going.

Normally, it would have been fine.

But normally you weren’t injured.

You stumbled as a renewed pain shot through your leg and Hunter was quick to grab your arm, steering you away from the busy streets only a few turns away from where the Marauder was waiting.

So much for the alcohol.

Your uninjured knee hit the hard ground as you gasped for breath.

“Hey, talk to me. What’s going on?” Hunter’s steady hand at the crook of your elbow was steadying in a way, but it also reminded you that you were in the middle of a mission and couldn’t afford for this to be happening right now.

“I’m fine, just give me a second.” You choked out, trying to push aside the continually growing pain.

“What happened? Did you get hurt?” Hunter insisted. “Your heart rate is too erratic.”

“My knee.” You hissed.

You felt Hunter’s hand rest gently on your leg and you gasped as a flash of pain exploded through your leg. Your hand clamped on his wrist, as you inhaled sharply.

“Don’t.” You choked out and he was quick to pull away, arms raised.

“Can you walk?” He asked and you nodded.

“Yeah, just give me a sec.”

You took a few more deep breaths, feeling like the stupidest person in the galaxy for hurting yourself, even if it was an accident. After a few calming breaths, you gave a nod to Hunter and he looped an arm around you, helping you to your feet.

Once you were standing, he kept his arm in place, supporting you as you wavered slightly.

“Are you sure you can walk?” He asked and you gritted your teeth.

“Positive.”

You had a feeling he knew you were lying, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he helped you hobble back out into the busy streets towards the waiting ship. Thankfully, not many of the crowd paid you any attention, so some of your pride was still intact.

You were right around the corner from the ship when you knee buckled beneath you. But this time, Hunter was ready, easily keeping you upright. Before you could protest, he looped an arm under your knees and lifted.

You hissed in pain at your knee being jostled and Hunter breathed a quick apology.

“I told you I can walk.” You whispered as he moved quickly through the shipyard, the Marauder getting closer with every step.

“This is faster.” Was all he replied.

He was probably right.

Unfortunately.

You made it to the ship and Hunter climbed the steps with ease, setting you down gently in a chair. He gave your face a quick once over as you waved him off. The door to the ship hissed shut as he left you and began starting the ship for take off. . You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on anything but the pain in your leg.

It wasn’t as harsh as before, but the throbbing was nearly unbearable and any movement had sharp pain shooting through your leg.

The ship jolted and you inhaled sharply, cursing under your breath.

A few moments later, as you were starting to feel like you could open your eyes again, you felt a gentle hand on your wrist. You looked up to see Hunter kneeling beside you, eyes soft in a way you only ever really saw him be with Omega. It had your heart clenching in your chest.

He gave your wrist a squeeze before he removed his hand and set down a medpack on the floor. As he riffled through it, he began talking. “What happened?”

“It’s an old injury. Normally it’s fine.”

“But not this time?”

“Apparently not.”

Hunter nodded as he pulled out a stim and quickly administered it with only a few curse words.

“When did it happen? Not the original injury, but this? Was it that kid?” He asked and you bit down on your lip.

You avoided his gaze until you heard him say your name softly.

“Right after we split up to clear paths and check the perimeter. I misstepped.” You replied and he only let out a soft sigh.

You knew that sigh.

He did it all the time when Omega and Wrecker mention they put more mantell mix on the tab, or when Tech stays up all night without realizing it, or when Echo neglects to mention one of his prosthetics gets too stiff.

It’s his “I’m disappointed sigh.”

And it’s never been directed at you.

You’d always had sympathy for the others when on the receiving end of the sigh, but it was another thing entirely to know he was upset because of you.

Kriff you’d have to apologize to the others. They were right. This is brutal.

“You don’t have to hide these things from me.”

Okay.

You were wrong.

That statement was even more painful than his “I’m disappointed” sigh.

“We needed to complete the mission, as stupid as it was. I wasn’t going to say anything because we couldn’t turn back. I knew we would finish it quickly and get back here where I could rest.” You said. “I know it’s stupid and I’m sorry for not saying anything. I just - I just didn’t want to compromise the mission.”

Hunter rubbed his forehead before sighing again. “You’re more important than the mission.”

You felt a pang in your chest and took a shaky breath.

“You got that? You can tell me these things.” He again said and you nodded softly.

“I got it.” Your throat felt tight, but you responded.

“Okay, now let’s see if we can patch up your knee.” Hunter pulled out the small medkit and you carefully sat yourself up fully, wincing at the sharp pain in your leg. “How did you hurt it initially? You mentioned an old injury.”

“I was a teenager. We were playing boloball in the streets and I tore some ligaments. It healed back then, but sometimes it flares up.” You said as he pulled out a brace and some bacta.

“How often does it flare-up?”

You sighed. “Sometimes when it’s cold or I step weird it bothers me, but for the most part it’s fine.”

“Except for today.” Hunter asked with a bit of a smirk and you let out a breathless laugh.

“Except for today.” You confirmed and he shook his head.

“Let’s get your boot off and see if we can get some bacta on your knee.” He said and you quickly leaned forward to untie your boots only for your hands to be batted away by Hunter’s. You watched, stomach swirling, as he very carefully untied your boot and removed it without jostling your leg too much. He then helped you very gently roll up your pant leg until it was slightly easier to access your injured knee.

Hunter wiped off his hands on a damp towel before beginning to spread the bacta onto your slightly swollen knee.

You did your best to not think about just how gentle he was being or how much it made your heart thump in your chest. You knew Hunter would likely be able to hear any changes in your breathing or heart rate, so you just focused on keeping them both as even as possible. But you weren’t sure if you were succeeding.

Hunter finished and while he washed his hands again in the small refresher, you slowly worked your pants back down over your leg since the bacta dried quickly. Hunter reappeared and pulled out the knee brace you happened to have lying around. He carefully secured it, helped you put your boot back on, and then assisted you standing up.

You swayed slightly, Hunter’s hands quick to grab your arms and hold you steady as you bumped into him. You weren’t able to stop the loud thump of your heart in your chest. You were both eager to get out of such a charged situation and also unwilling to move at all. Your hands gripped his arms and you resisted the urge to sway closer.

Hunter gave you a small smile before leaning forward, pressing his lips to your forehead.

It was at that moment that you truly felt like you stopped breathing. Your eyes closed and you wished to live in this moment for the rest of your life.

There was a sudden loud beeping from the cockpit and Hunter pulled away, clearing his throat. “Come on, we’re almost to Ord Mantell.”

He stepped away, offering his hand. You looked at his hand before looking up at him. He looked shy, more timid than you had ever seen him. It had a smile spreading across your face. You placed your hand in his and he helped you hobble to the cockpit and take a seat in one of the pilot chairs.

You gave his hand a squeeze before you let go and you felt your mood brighten further when you saw a faint darkening of his cheeks.

You turned to look at the controls, helping Hunter with the landing sequence after you dropped out of the hyperspace, feeling lighter and happier than you had in a long time.

Maybe the resurfacing of old childhood injuries weren’t a bad thing, because maybe, just maybe, they would lead to something new and exciting.

#aaaah #hope this was fluffy enough for you bb #for all of you really #asks #askBri #hunter x reader #the bad batch hunter #tbb hunter #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch #tbb

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jamiesfootball · 3 months ago

Text

Augusnippets Day 18

Prompt: self administered medicine

cw: drug use, injuries, implied/referenced child abuse

Summary:

Roy flipped through the pages. Stopping at a blank one, he held the pen at the ready. “What do you want me to write down?" Jamie chewed on his lip. Roy was on the verge of repeating himself when he said quietly, “Summer 2009. Broken arm.”

Here on AO3

Once Roy got Jamie settled on the sofa, he diverted to the kitchen to grab the necessary supplies. Pill bottle from his bag and a glass of water, and because Roy was supposed to be trying to ‘embrace his instincts when it came to showing people he cared’, a sandwich appeared alongside the water. So did two mugs of tea.

Roy stared down at the tray and grimaced at how low he had sunk. Jamie was supposed to eat something with the painkillers, sure, but the Roy of before would’ve been content throwing a protein bar at his head and sending him home in an Uber. Instead he’d brought him back to his own house and broken out the good bread – the stuff that definitely wasn’t part of the nutrition plan.

He took a deep breath and braced himself for some mocking.

But there was no mocking to be found. Jamie was the same as he’d been since they’d left the doctors. With his face screwed up in pain, he dug the heel of his hand into the muscle above his knee, trying desperately to massage the pain away. Roy was familiar with the struggle. Knee injuries could be a bitch like that, the big nerves and tendons squeezed tightly between ligaments and bones. Rupture any part of the system and the rest became collateral, the inevitable victims of being too close to the scene of the crime. The pain was for sharing, and in spite of the localised anaesthetic, even smaller, inconsequential actions found a way of compounding into a larger toll.

Suddenly the sandwich didn’t seem like a bad idea. Even if it didn’t stay down, Jamie would need the energy. He certainly wasn’t going to want to eat when the numbing agents wore off.

“Here,” said Roy, setting the tray on the table. He grabbed the painkillers and shook out two pills. “Take these and a few bites of the sandwich, then you can pass out. There’s also tea.”

He tipped the pills into Jamie’s hand. Handed him the glass of water. Jamie swallowed the pills in one gulp, and a strange look crossed his face. Roy considered grabbing the waste bin, but the expression passed just as quickly as it came, and then Jamie waved for the sandwich to move closer.

Roy waited for Jamie to take a few bites before he finally sat down. He settled back on the sofa with a cup of tea in hand and switched on the TV.

That should’ve been that.

Halfway through an episode of Murdoch Mysteries, Roy was sure that Jamie should have passed out by now.

He’d stopped rubbing at his thigh a bit ago. Hours of pained tension had melted away, leaving him boneless against the cushions. He’d also fallen for the lure of the strategically thrown blanket over the back of the soft and was now cocooned in fleece up to his chin. The pale tint of nausea had faded — though Roy still had the waste bin nearby just in case — and the half sandwich he’d eaten had brought some colour back. He’d be the very picture of cosy if it weren’t for the knot of confusion screwed up tight between his stupid, styled eyebrows.

For someone who’d just taken a fairly high dose of painkillers, he was stubbornly holding on to consciousness, and worse than that he only seemed to be growing more agitated the more they kicked in.

After a few more minutes of restless shifting, Jamie broke the silence to ask, “Can… can you… grab something for me?”

At least the medicine was working, if the slurred words were any indication.

“Sure,” said Roy. “What do you need? The bin’s right there,” he reminded him.

He did not want to help Jamie with the bin.

The knot of confusion turned into a knot of annoyance. “Not sick, ‘s… need my bag. Could you… the notebook in it… can you?”

Roy got up. This week’s tiny bag came in a burnt orange and teal striped combo that made Roy’s eyes water. By comparison, the notebook he found inside was small and nondescript: a simple black flip-over with a Richmond-branded pen tucked through the spirals.

It took two attempts for Jamie to take hold of the notebook. His movements were clumsy, his hands shaking as he struggled to untangle the pen.

Once again, Roy was struck with the stupid urge to take care of people.

He exhaled. “Here, give me that. I can write whatever it is down for you.”

Jamie hesitated. After a moment, he held the notebook up, his expression schooled in feign disinterest. Roy took it back, and Jamie listed unsteadily after it like a fish tugged forward on a hook. Roy had to brace by the shoulder to keep him from tipping over.

He flipped through the pages. Stopping at a blank one, he held the pen at the ready. “What do you want me to write down?”

Jamie chewed his lip. Roy was on the verge of repeating himself when he said quietly, “Summer 2009. Broken arm.”

Roy froze. In the raging quiet, he carefully transcribed the words, the pen creaking under the pressure.

“It’s for Dr Sharon,” Jamie explained.

Roy swallowed back a painful lump in his throat and shook his head. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“I know, but in case I forget. I want… I need to…,” Jamie trailed off, argument lost. He stared at Roy with a wretchedly sad expression.

Roy capped the pen. It wasn’t like he would need to write this down to remember it later. Despite the short list of facts he’d been given, Roy hardly needed a calculator to figure out why Jamie might need to tell Sharon about a broken arm.

For a man Roy had only ever seen once, for about three minutes, James Tartt Sr left a visceral impression – and nothing he’d learned since then had weakened it.

He gestured for Jamie to get on with it then.

Jamie pushed himself upright against the cushions. He shook his head, scrunching up his face and blinking hard like he was trying to wake himself up. When he spoke, he sounded more clear-headed, but the words came out chopped, a staccato listing of facts that gave the impression that somewhere underneath a dog whistle screeched at full volume.

“It’s for learning my boundaries. Idea is to write down memories from when I was a kid, stuff that didn’t make any sense or that I don’t…can’t remember. Then I’m supposed to see if there’s a pattern. Especially if it involved…if I were angry or scared or anything like that.”

He stared vacantly at the tray where it still lay on the coffee table. Most of the sandwich was gone; the glass, empty. Only a half-drunk mug of tea and the bottle of pills remained.

A half-formed suspicion slithered into Roy’s gut, nesting into a quiet ache.

“All right,” Roy nodded encouragingly. The atmosphere in the room had turned into a fragile thing, hairline fractures ready to crack if he stepped too hard. “That makes sense.”

Jamie’s head dipped against his chest. “When I was twelve or thirteen or whatever, I don’t remember which, I broke my arm. Nothing that serious, I was just being dumb at training. Bet the team ten quid I could do a backflip on the first try.”

Roy snorted. The pressure in his chest released so abruptly he felt almost dizzy with it. “So you were always a cartwheeling troublemaker?”

“Yeah.” A small grin quirked at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I really took to the gymnastics part of training. D’you know I can do a full splits?”

Roy scoffed, amused. “Fuck off.”

“Well, I could do it when I was seventeen. Could probably still manage it if I warmed up properly.”

The smile faded. “But I broke my arm, yeah? And mummy was essentially working two jobs at the time because she’d finally decided she wanted to stop waitressing. She’d started taking night classes, so I didn’t see her all that much. And dad was in his superdad phase, and he’d said he was cutting back on the drinking, so it was usually him that picked me up from training anyways. So when I broke my arm, that’s who they called to come get me.”

Jamie swerved from thought to thought, some of them not quite connecting but all of them on a horrible forward trajectory. It was like staring at a bus crash that Roy knew was coming. He just couldn’t see the death toll yet.

“I remember the hospital in pieces.” Jamie started to massage his thigh again; absently, like he didn’t realise he was doing it. “I remember them letting me pick the colour for my cast – City blue, of course. Had to prove to my old man I was still as dedicated as ever. It worked, too. In fact, in fact he wasn’t even mad I broke my arm that time,” Jamie said wonderingly. “He thought it was funny. Not like I need an arm to play football, right?”

Fucking Christ.

The smile slipped from Jamie’s face. He rubbed his thigh harder. “I remember… the doctors sent me home with some pills? I remember them telling me my arm would probably hurt for a week or two, and after that I could switch to paracetamol if it still hurt. But I remember seeing the pills. We went back to my dad’s flat. He gave me the pills, crushed ‘em up in my tea for me to help hide the taste. But that’s where it gets–“

He let out a ragged breath, his eyes screwing up tightly.

“Roy,” he whined. “Roy, this is the same stuff they gave me back then, but I don’t remember it feeling this way.”

“What do you remember?” Roy asked, trying to sound calm even as panic, dull and rusted, throbbed in his chest. It happened over ten years ago. They’d just come from the hospital. Jamie was alive in front of him. None of that stopped the foreboding from growing like a seed.

Twelve. He would’ve been twelve. That was a fucking kid.

Jamie shook his head. “I don’t know. But they didn’t taste chalky. They didn’t do this.” He gestured weakly at himself. “It didn’t make me numb. Didn’t make me tired. I had a headache the whole time, and my arm hurt so bad I kept being sick. I kept waiting for the pills to kick in. The stuff they gave me in hospital, that seemed to work fine. But when I got home the pain just kept getting worse. I couldn’t even get to sleep. Everything hurt.”

The more Roy heard, the more an ugly thought began to take shape in his head.

“Next day my mum comes to pick me up, and I tell her I don’t think the medication is working like it’s supposed to. She takes me back to the hospital; they figure I must have thrown it up in the night. They give me something there, and I fall asleep. I don’t remember anything after that. I don’t even remember going home. Next memory I’ve got is showing my cast off to the team and arguing with the coaches that I should still be allowed to train ‘cause who needs an arm to play football anyways?”

His hands lifted in a shrug, the blanket flapping up and down as if to say, ‘there you go.’

“That it?” asked Roy. He wanted to confirm he had all the pieces before he said anything.

“Yeah,” said Jamie, falling limp against the sofa. “That’s it.”

“Can I ask something?”

Jamie shrugged. Whatever reserves of energy he’d had, they were gone now, completely burned through with nothing left to stoke the fire in his wake.

But Roy still had an ember, and it pulsed hot and angry in his chest.

“What did your dad say?” he demanded. “When you were up all night, sick from pain and unable to sleep? What did he fucking say to that?”

“He didn’t say anything,” said Jamie. “He was asleep the whole time. I tried to wake him up during the night, but it didn’t work. Out like a light straight through ‘til mummy picked me up the next afternoon. I couldn’t wake him up.”

And there it was.

“Oh.”

Jamie snorted, a hysterically unfunny noise, wet and clogged and full of pain and disappointment and numb, numb resignation.

“Yeah,” he agreed. ”Oh.”

#augusnippets day 18 #augusnippets #ted lasso fic #roy kent #jamie tartt #cw drug use #almost had this one ready in time too #then it got loooooong

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bullet-prooflove · 7 months ago

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Future Building - Michael 'Riz' Ariza x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @anime-weeb-4-life @danzer8705 @mysoulisasunflower @msjava1972 @adaydreamaway08 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @wakeama @librarian1002 @briefpersonenemy @creativitybeware @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @purrrrfect

Riz builds you a house. It’s situated on the edge of his land, near the pond that the two of you skinny dip in during the summer months.

It started as a joke, something Taza mentioned whilst Riz was recovering from his injury after the motorcycle accident. You’d been running around after him playing nursemaid, keeping him fed, watered and medicated. He hated that you had to do it, but you had shushed him, your fingertips brushing the hair away from his face as you kissed him and told him not to worry.

“You should marry her.” Taza had said after you’d disappeared off into the bathroom for a shower. He sets the coffee down in front of Riz before taking the seat across from him at the kitchen table. His leg is stretched out in front of him because of the knee brace. He has a fracture and a torn ligament, he’s already been told off by Stitches for not looking after himself, for trying to be too mobile.

“Technically she is still married.” Riz tells Taza, bringing the cup to his lips. “After what happened with her ex… she decided it wasn't worth the fight, trying to divorce him.”

The club had a part to play in that. Your ex was a sheriff and could do alot of damage of you'd continued to push for it.

He trails off shaking his head. Your marriage had been messy, fraught. You’d felt trapped the entire time you were married, stifled by the man who had intentionally knocked you up and then smacked you around when you’d told him you’d gotten an abortion.

“She’s been a Godsend since the accident.” Riz says, his thumb chasing up the side of the mug. “I wanna take the next step, show her I’m invested in our future. I just don’t know what that is.”

“You could build her a house.” Taza says half seriously. “You’ve got all that land just sitting there, we’re in a quiet spell at the minute. I’m sure Gilly would be glad for the work.”

“I can’t just build a house.” Riz laughs before taking a sip of his coffee.

“Why not?” Taza says with a shrug. “The two of you love it out there, it’s quiet, you can see the stars, you can make as much music as you want without the neighbours complaining. You can rent this place out, have some passive income.”

Riz pauses for a second, his mug still clasped in his hand as he considers Taza’s words. The things is the more the other man says, the more Riz is starting to like the idea. You’ve never had a place of your own, a space that’s just for you. He could build a little studio just off the house, somewhere you could go to play and create. He likes that idea; he likes it a lot. He can afford it, the two of you live conservatively, and the money he’s earned from his illicit activities he puts aside, he’s never really realised what for until now.

When he pulls up outside the finished product, it’s better than he could have imagined. It’s a beautiful three-bedroom bungalow, with cream masonry and dark wood outlining the exterior windows and doors. The yard still needs a little work, Neron and Bottles are laying down flags while Lila digs out the flowerbeds along the edges of the space.

Gilly steps out through the open front door, using a rag to clean his hands as he stands on the porch.

“So what do you think?” He says gesturing at the house.

Riz grins as he puts his hands on his hips.

“She’s gonna love it.”

Love Riz? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#michael riz ariza #riz ariza #michael ariza #michael riz ariza x reader #michael riz ariza x you #riz ariza x reader #riz ariza x you #michael ariza x you #michael ariza x reader #riz

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spenjelly · 5 months ago

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Joint pain tips from someone “too young to have chronic pain”:

[I’m not a doc or a medical professional, take with a grain of salt]

- NSAIDs like ibuprofen/aleve are hard on the stomach and liver. If u take it consistently, consider lidocaine pain patches, tiger balm, or topical NSAIDs. (Still bad for liver with consistent use, but not on the stomach obv)

-foam rollers are real nice for thigh or back/neck pain. If you need it for shoulder stretching, make sure to get one long enough to lay ur whole spine and head on.

-rly good shoe inserts are stupid expensive but getting properly sized for one at a place like REI can rly save you a lot of foot, ankle, and knee pain.

-speaking of shoes plz find ones that have enough room for the tootsies. We’re talking abt bone health here.

-you can use KT or other athletic tape to give minor support, compression for medium, and splints/braces for more serious support. Don’t let braces take over keeping ur body in shape tho.

-in my experience, tube/sock-like braces stay in place the best. I’ve tried the kind that Velcro and they slipped constantly.

-if u overwork a tendon, muscle, or joint, it can take a lot longer for it to heal then when it just stops hurting. Be careful to reintegrate activities slowly after an injury.

-while it kinda makes ya feel silly, walking “like a robot” can help hypermobile/ligament laxity folks to keep proper motion in mind

-upside down criss-cross and w-sitting are horrendous for your knees and make your PTs sad

-if you are doing arm exercises, try not to extend your arms back beyond the line of your shoulder

-to my ND folks: try to rest your arms sometimes, Trex arms are comfy but bad for circulation and joints

-if it feels like your eyes are trying to burst outta ur skull sometimes it means you need to lower inflammation in your sinus.

-for my bra-wearing folks: racer-backed bras hurt the upper traps less and distribute weight better

-drink water my dudes. Ur body hates life w/o it

#self care #health and wellness #health & fitness #health tips #chronic pain #invisible disability #disabilties #tips #hypermobility #ligament laxity #hypermobile eds #not a doctor #be safe #drink water

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judectrl · 9 months ago

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Correct me if I am wrong but Jude also had a knee brace at the end of last season. News even talked about a surgery but he was playing again in august. And Trent is out for over a month?

yeah but the thing about jude's knee injury is that it wasn't just at the end of last season that he'd injured his knee, it was more of a chronic injury that kept coming back and would require surgery for it to fully heal, but jude just kept putting surgery off

and trent has a torn lateral knee ligament which he didn't recover well enough from when he came back against burnley so yeah he's gonna need more time to fully recover

#trent alexander arnold #jude bellingham

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blowflyfag · 9 months ago

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PAUL E. DANGEROUSLY VS. JIM CORNETTE

DRESSED TO KILL!

Jim Cornette and Paul E. Dangerously: rival managers, sworn enemies. Paul E. thought he had the key to embarrassing Cornette at the Great American Bash, but Cornette had a game plan tailored for success

By Bill Apter

[Jim Cornette is eager to scrap with Paul E. Dangerously (above). Dangerously has a momentary advantage over his rival (below).

JIM CORNETTE WORE powder blue, Paul E. Dangerously wore traditional black. They both wore tuxedos into the ring at the July 23 Great American Bash in Baltimore, almost as if they were attending each other’s funeral.

Of course, that was the whole idea.

“I’m obsessed with your demise,” Dangerously told Cornette. “I’ve been living over the edge of the Empire State Building. I’ve hired Rob Lowe as babysitter! But win, lose, or draw, when I get through with you, you’ll never be able to walk again!”

“I don’t care if you try to break my leg, I’ll hop,” Cornette promised. “I don’t care if you break both my legs, I’ll crawl. You tried to take my place, but if you wanna do that, you’d better put me six feet under. If there’s one time I needed to win a fight it’s tonight!”

The style of victory wasn’t important to either man. Infact, Dangerously didn’t care who won the match, as long as he had the chance to cripple Cornette. “I’m not concerned with winning,” Dangerously declared. “I just want to take Cornette out.” And, Cornette countered, “I never said I was a wrestler, but I can deal with Dangerously on my worst day.”

In reality, their egos were doing most of the talking. Although there are three other managers in the NWA-Paul Ellering, Gary Hart, and Teddy Long-Dangerously and Cornette are the fastest talkers and, thus, have the highest profiles. Theta are also very much alike: You’d be hard-pressed to tell Dangerously apart from the pre-fan favorite Cornette. Even now, the similarities are startling.

Dangerously uses a portable telephone; Cornette uses a tennis racket.

Dangerously once managed a team called The Midnight Express; Cornette manages a team called The Midnight Express

[Dangerously throws powder in Cornette’s face (Above); Paul E. would later get powder in his face. Cornette attempts to roll out of the way of Paul E.’s elbow drop (below).

Dangerously once was a wrestling photographer and did some work for Inside Wrestling; Cornette once was a wrestling photographer and did some work for Inside Wrestling.

Both men fit the profile of the modern-day yuppie. But when Dangerously invaded the NWA along with Randy Rose and Dannis Condrey late in 1988, the fans decided to take sides with Cornette. That’s the biggest difference between the two.

But try telling that to Cornette and Dangerously, both of whom think they’re one of a kind. This war cannot be settled by words outside the ring or by a match inside the ring. It can only be settled when either Cornette or Dangerously leaves the federation. The NWA simply isn’t big enough for both men.

The intensity of their feud, in fact, made this rare manager bs. Manager match possible. In most cases, these matches turn into total bores, simply because most managers either have no ring training or are simply poor wrestlers. Cornette in fact, displayed his lack of ability several years ago at the Great American Bash when he was embarrassed by Baby Doll.

“That wasn’t going to happen again, and you know why?” Cornette quipped. “Baby Doll scared the hell out of me a lot more than Dangerously ever did-which ain't much.”

Cornette wasn’t even frightened by the fact that Dangerously was aware of his biggest weakness. Prior to the match, Dangerously revealed that he knew of a knee injury Cornette suffered at Starrcade ‘86. “He’s done his homework, he’s right,” Cornette admitted. “I tore my anterior cruciate ligament, I was hospitalized, and I still wear a brace to the ring.”

Seconds after the opening bell. Dangerously threw powder in Cornette’s face, then began working on both of his archrival’s knees. He ripped off Cornette’s jacket, then pulled off his cummerbund away and used it to strangle Dangerously.

But Paul E. regained control and slapped Cornette to the mat. After missing badly with a flying elbow smash, he rebounded with a series of punches. Cornette psyched himself up sufficiently to floor Dangerously and rip off his shirt, but then Paul E. dipped into his pocket for some more powder. Cornette didn't seem to know what was coming. The end was near.

Cornette, as it turned out, was aware of Dangerously's scheme. As Paul E. strutted toward him, Cornette kicked the powder into his face. Seconds later, Dangerously hightailed it back to the dressing room, wearing only his blue Fruit of the Looms and a pair of black shoes. As the standing-room-only Baltimore Arena crowd cheered and laughed loudly, Cornette smashed Dangerously’s telephone to the canvas and held his arms in victory.

“That was as sweet as anything that’s ever happened to me,” Cornette said afterward. “That was as good as ‘Sweet’ Stan and ‘Beautiful’ Bobby winning the World tag team championship. That was better than when my Mama sold AT&T one day before the crash. I did it for myself and Mama, but I also did it for the fans out there that have supported me for so long. Dangerously, you’ve been exposed!”

In more ways than one. Because when a match based on style came down to substance, Cornette wasn’t only dressed to kill. He was ready to complete the task, too. How can Paul E. show his face now?

#Jim cornette #paul e dangerously #paul heyman #more like paul hymen hehehehe #magazine scan #magazine transcript #Inside Wrestling #Inside Wrestling 1980s #1980s #1989

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lilac-gold · 1 year ago

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Hiding an injury

AI-less Whumptober: Day 4 Hiding an injury | Betrayal | Lying @ailesswhumptober

Fandom: OMORI Rating: Teen Word Count: 1730 Summary: Mari’s supposed to be perfect, not go running for help. Hero’s got enough of her worries on his plate without her bad knee too. AO3 LINK

Mari loved being active, playing softball especially. The adrenaline kick it gave her made her feel like she could do anything, Mari always feeling especially good after a game. Besides, it gave her something to focus on that wasn’t her schoolwork, and she enjoyed the competition. She was a perfectionist with a high drive to succeed, and that meant that she put a whole lot of effort into playing.

So, when Mari injured her knee, she was devastated she wasn’t allowed to keep playing. It was sprained, so she had to wear a brace. Apparently, she’d ‘torn her anterior cruciate ligament’ during a match. Mari wasn’t quite sure what that meant, but she knew it was bad.

It had hurt a lot when she first sprained it. She’d felt and heard a sickening pop, crashing to the floor as her legs failed to support her. Her knee buckled painfully beneath her when she tried to stand again, white-hot agony lacing through her entire leg. She’d been rushed to a hospital, given a diagnosis and some stretches to do, and strictly ordered not to play any sports for at least a month.

So she didn’t. And Mari felt useless.

She missed the rush of running, missed being able to carry Sunny around on her back without everyone fussing over her. She rushed the exercises she was given, doing them three times more than advised to in the hope that it would hasten her recovery further. Mari had to be perfect, and that wasn’t possible with a bad knee! It limited her far too much.

It was embarrassing, sitting out of gym lessons with the feeble excuse of a knee brace. Even as Hero lamented about how he wished he could sit at the side with her, Mari remained completely dissatisfied with her predicament. As soon as she got home, it was always ‘ooh, Mari, how’s your knee?’ or ‘Mari, make sure you’re taking it easy on that bad knee!’ or ‘be careful, Mari, remember you’ve got a sprained knee’. She was sick of being treated like she was made of glass. Mari was strong. Mari was capable. Mari was perfect.

And that meant that when it began to hurt a little more than usual, Mari said nothing.

It throbbed when she went upstairs, ached when she stayed sat in one position for too long, twanged unpleasantly whenever she stood up. But it was nothing she couldn’t handle! Mari was perfect after all, and would be fourteen in a month. She didn’t need coddling like a baby.

She went out with Hero one day to Gino’s, assuring him that she was completely fine. It was sweet that Hero was so worried about her, but it really wasn’t necessary. Her injury was minor. The constant fretting honestly bothered her more than the wound itself, and Mari was able to mask her grimace of pain quite well as she sat at one of the tables. She’d left her brace at home, put-out by the reminder it posed of her injury and figuring that it must have healed enough by that point that she could just leave the device at home. The grinding feeling that arose when she took her seat wasn’t exactly reassuring, but Mari ignored it steadfastly, clenching her fist under the table.

“I’ll go order food. You’d like a margherita pizza, right? No pepperoni?” Hero checked, fumbling through his pockets for his wallet.

“You got it,” Mari laughed. She didn’t much like pepperoni, it was too spicy for her tastes– and, in her opinion, vegetables had no place on a pizza. So, she stuck to cheese, and enjoyed it, no matter how plain her younger friends (especially Kel, who put the strangest toppings imaginable on his own) sometimes claimed her pizzas were. “Don’t worry, Hero, I’ll pay for mine.”

Hero shook his head. “I insist.”

“Thank you,” Mari smiled at him, enjoying the way his face quickly grew pinker. Unable to resist, she added on teasingly, “you’re a true gentleman, Hero.”

“Ah– um, yes, of course– I…” Hero fumbled, the pink shifting to a more red colour. Mari stifled a laugh. Hero looked rather like a tomato. “It’s no problem.”

And he hurried off to the till, practically leaving a trail of steam behind him. Mari shivered slightly. Despite the internal heating at Gino’s, it was still a very chilly February day, and every time the door opened, a frosty draught blew in. Hero soon returned with the pizzas, Mari eagerly taking a bite of her own then recoiling, wincing as the pizza burnt her tongue.

“Too hot?” Hero guessed, then grimaced sympathetically at her nod before placing his sandwich on the table. “It’s all good, we can wait for a little while first.”

“You can start, Hero, I really don’t mind,” she assured him, touched.

“The point of this is that we eat together, Mari, and it’s not exactly like my sandwich’s going to go cold, hah. Besides, I like talking with you,” he grinned sincerely at her, and that time, it was Mari who flushed, tugging at her coat sleeves.

“I like talking with you too,” She responded brightly, then quickly changed the subject. “What did Gino think of you ordering a Hero sandwich again?”

“I think he’s given up on trying to convince me now,” Hero rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “He just… Looks a little constipated whenever I ask. His face scrunches up, it’s like I’ve told him his great aunt just passed away.”

Mari giggled. “I don’t know why he still keeps it on the menu.”

Hero shrugged helplessly. “I’m not sure if he knows how to print a new one.”

A smile still wide across her face, as was always the case when she was with Hero, Mari cautiously took another bite of her pizza. Now, it was just the right temperature, warm against her tongue without hurting in the slightest. The bit she’d burnt before smarted a little, but it was ignored easily enough. She opened her mouth to continue their conversation–

And had to suppress a gasp when the door swung open again, chilly draught going straight to her knee. Quietly as she could, she inhaled through her teeth, feeling a sharp spike of pain under her skin.

“Mari?” Hero said uncertainly, and Mari jumped. He must have noticed her tightened expression, because his eyebrows had knitted in concern. Darn it. “Are you okay? Is your knee hurting again?”

“It’s fine!” She blurted out quickly– a little too quickly, perhaps, if the doubt in Hero’s worried eyes was anything to go by. “I’m okay.”

Hero didn’t look convinced, but there wasn’t really much he could do to argue with her. He handled so much, all the time. Whenever there was a possibility he could help with something, Hero offered his assistance, and never once complained when given tasks that shouldn’t be his responsibility. Mari admired how selfless he was, but Hero (a little like herself) had a tendency to take on too much at once. He didn’t need her knee on top of his preexisting worries. That was Mari’s problem, not his.

He was always there to listen, always there to help. But Mari had piled enough of her worries onto him anyway, it wasn’t fair to force him to carry this too. Mari was strong. Mari could handle this herself.

They finished their food, and began walking around Faraway. With each bend of her knee, that grinding feeling began again, Mari feeling nausea well within her at the feeling of her bones rubbing together. When they finally reached the park, she readily sat down on a bench, unconsciously stretching her knee out and sighing in relief.

She turned to look at Hero with a relaxed smile, expecting to be met with his signature charming grin, only for her stomach to sink at Hero’s stricken face.

“...Where’s your brace, Mari?” He asked warily, carefully scanning her knee.

Shoot. Maybe she should have brought the brace after all.

“It’s um… At home,” Mari winced at Hero’s alarmed expression. “What?! Why? Is it broken? You should have told me! We didn’t have to go out today,” Hero said, clearly upset. Mari felt shame curl in her stomach.

“No, no, I’m fine!” Mari assured him. To prove her point, she tried standing up. “See?”

It was fine for a moment, Mari able to support her weight and hiding her grimace at that creaking feeling once again.

Then, her knee collapsed in on itself again, and she crumpled to the floor. Hero dived forward, catching her before she could hit the concrete and graze her skin, panic painted clear as day across his face. Mari’s knee throbbed, feeling swollen and sore.

“...Okay, I might need some help,” she admitted softly, turning away a little.

Hero’s jaw set, face hardening in determination. And, much to Mari’s surprise, he lifted her straight off of the ground. She gasped, eyebrows raising as a blush spread across her face.

“H-Hero–” She exclaimed, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck. “I thought you weren’t strong enough to do this sort of thing!”

He grinned bashfully. “You carry a guy’s fridge enough times and it gets easy to pick up a Mari.”

He began walking, making a beeline for their houses. Mari was a little disappointed, having been thoroughly enjoying their outing (sans the pain). Still, this was necessary, and she had to admit that she did need a little help, lest her knee fail to support her again. That was the only reason she let Hero carry her home. The only one. Definitely.

He was very careful with her leg, trying his best not to jostle her as he walked, each step careful and purposeful. Soon, they arrived at her house, and Hero laid her down on her couch. Mari tried to hide both her disappointment and the hiss of pain at the change of positions.

“I’ll go find your brace and your mom,” Hero told her, knowing her dad worked on Sundays and she wouldn’t want him involved in this anyway. For all he cared about her, he could be a little… Overprotective at times. “I’ll be back in a minute!”

And as she laid back on the couch, waiting for Hero’s return, Mari considered that maybe, just maybe, asking for help wasn’t quite as mortifying as she’d first thought.

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