#sorry for the personal post i’m at the gym and my mind always wanders when i’m working out lol
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oddthesungod · 1 year ago
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I’ve got ashrym in the brain lately, so not to get a bit personal here but it struck me a little while ago that one of the reasons I’m so fond of this ship is that as a gay he/they non-binary person (i just call myself a dude/guy/man because im lazy and not about to explain my whole gender experience lmao) having Ashton paired with a gay man just makes me feel so…. validated? seen? Idk it just feels good
I’ve gone thru so much self loathing and self doubt about not feeling like I’m allowed to claim the term “gay” to myself, seeing cis gay (transphobic) dudes online saying that I cant be gay because i’m not a “””man”””, it feels good to finally put my feet down and say YES i am gay and no one but myself can tell me who I am and who I can love!
So shout out to my fellow non-binary gays <3333
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locahaz · 4 years ago
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shoot your shot - a one shot
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a/n: hiiii this is my first posted fic on my refurbished account soon if you see this and you like it, lemme know!! Request some things, I would love to go back into writing. Enjoy x ..................................................................................................................................................................... harry plays on the football team where you are the medic helping out and things get quite interesting when he invites you to his party
warnings: mature content
word count: 11,1k
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I felt it from the moment I had walked on the field with the others. 
Someone was staring at me. Or everyone was. I didn’t look behind me to see if it was true, but I could feel their eyes staring straight at my ass. They asked me to wear athletic clothing for this, so I just chose the first thing in my dresser that I saw, picking out some black yoga pants. The material clung to my butt and I regretted I had put them on the moment I had arrived here. My oversized sweater I chose to wear over it luckily covered my upper half, a decision I did appreciate I made now.
Walking onto the sports centre was nerve-wracking in itself. I liked sports, I liked watching it, but having the possibility of someone else watching you do something was disturbing. I couldn’t find the way I was supposed to go. I didn’t bring my hair tie so I was forced to keep my hair floating around my face and this place was huge. There were several buildings and a squala of fields for specific sports. Indoors, outdoors, you name it. The college was probably sponsored by some wealthy upper class fathers who wanted their sons to be on the radar for new opportunities.
Luckily, I was led right to the canteen which was easily locatable since it had a terrace. A terrace! Lord, I feel like I should’ve worn other clothing for this. 
I approached a team player who had blond hair, feeling the nerves floating around in my stomach, “Uhh… Hi.” 
The boy who was filling up his water bottle turned around, raising his eyebrows, “Hi there.” 
Shit, he was nice. I inhaled, “I was looking for uhh, the football team…” He gave me the same look, “I was asked to help.., or I need to help with their inju-”
“Ahh!” He exclaimed, disregarding his bottle and he turned to fully face me, “You’re the one!”
I shrugged my shoulders, “I guess I am?”
“My name’s Niall.” He held out his hand, “I’m the star player of the time you’ve been assigned to!” 
I shook his hand, smiling a little. “Hi,” We still held hands, “Do you know where I’m supposed to go?” 
Still holding my hand, he began shaking it up and down. “I’m glad we finally have someone.”
“You are?”
“Yeh, we desperately need new people to liven things up a little.” 
I pried my hands from his grip, which wasn’t that strong. But I was already sweating, I didn’t need more reasons to be nervous. “Alright, that sounds good.” 
The pregnant pause that followed made him inhale and pack his bottle in his bag, “You are probably wanted by the football field, which is right there.” 
He pointed out somewhere behind me, making me turn my head. I already saw some players dribbling with the ball, so that was easily recognisable. “Go to the coach, he’s the tallest and biggest one. Has a loud voice too, probably won’t miss him.” He grinned, making me smile up at him. 
“I’ll meet you there in a second, we’re starting in like two minutes.” 
I nodded, “Alright, thanks…”
“Niall.” He answered for me, giving me a wink. “But you can call me anytime.” 
I rolled my eyes at his remark, but by the look on his face and the laugh that followed his statement, I knew it was to lighten my mood and assure me. 
I walked towards the field with a small smile on my face and with a lot less nerves. The players were now assembling and putting their heads together so I walked towards the dug-out and waited for them. There weren’t a lot of spectators or bystanders standing around the field, since it was a friendly game. I inhaled again. This should be fine. I recognized some of the players. They were all from the same college after all. Why did I sign up for this? I’m such an idiot.
When the team was done with sharing strategy and doing their, what appeared to be a yell, the trainer walked towards me. I was nervous when he approached me, he towered over everyone. 
“Hi Mattie,” he said, “You ready?”
I stood there, with my own little bag of supplies in my hand. I nodded. Luckily he spoke to me when I got drafted for this, so I already knew him. What if it was someone else who ended up being the coach? Since our conversation was very brief, you’re a nurse, I’m in need of a carer for the team, the deal was easily made. I didn’t know exactly what to take with me for this, but it was a college football team anyways, so nothing was really high-class. I had put some aspirin, plasters, scissors, antiseptic wipes, bandages and tweezers in my supply bag. That should be enough for a college team right? Surely they wouldn’t crash and fall every single game. He saw me fiddling with the bag, and smiled at me, “Good luck.” 
I nodded at him in gratitude and looked around the field. Gosh, couldn’t I talk? I was punching myself in my head. The trainer, whose name I seemed to have forgotten the second after the interview, sat down on his seat. 
Right now, all the players on the field were starting to go to their positions, other members of staff, the referee, seconds officials and the trainers and staff of the opposing team, all seemed ready to go. It wasn't hot or cold, but the slight breeze that blew over the field chilled me just slightly, making the tip of my nose go red. My job was already halfway done, which is just waiting for something to happen and providing the supplies they needed. If something did happen, I was the chosen person to help the players and fix their injuries. I didn't expect that these games would be very intense anyways. The players often knew each other since the teams were always against other colleges. Today it was just a practise match to start off the season, so I should be fine. 
The minute everyone started and the whistle blew, I wondered where Niall even was. Wasn’t he one of the players? As everyone was running and shouting on the field, I felt like he fit right in. I let my eyes wander. I didn’t know that much about football. I rarely watched the Champions League, I could just about name all the rules. The players, however, were something that did interested me. Especially the ones I already knew.
As I was sitting there, everyone seemed to be in the right place and doing exactly what everyone expected of them. The coach shouted an obnoxious loud praise towards his team, making me jump in my seat. The referee whistled at what suggestiably were the right times. No-one seemed to be getting angry at him. They were getting into it already. It'll probably go fine tonight, and my nerves I had bubbling in my stomach would probably be for nothing. At least, I was hoping for that. I watched the players going for the ball intensely, running after it and passing each other the ball. 
Right as the spirits of the team heightened and they almost scored, Niall crept up from behind me. “You didn’t even give me your name.” 
I shrieked, startling even the trainer who was deep into the game, “Jesus, Niall. Don’t scare me like that.” 
He sat down next to me, “Sorry, babe.” 
“My name’s Mattie.” I said, looking at him briefly. He nodded his head, “Like that.” 
I smiled, turning my head towards the field. “Aren’t you playing?”
He pointed towards his knee, that was covered by his track pants, “This annoying thing won’t let me.” 
“Ahh, that’s too bad.” I grimaced. 
“It’s alright,” he shrugged, “get to sit next to you.” 
I rolled my eyes again. “You’re not getting any.” 
He burst out laughing, “What! How could you resist me?” 
I playfully smiled at him. I was glad he was here to ease my nerves, “Dunno,” I glanced at the field, “quite like the others.” 
“You already know them?” He asked. 
“Yeah,” I nodded, “same college.”
Liam was the goalie. He was broad, quick and could move fast so he was the one that suited that job the most. He was also rough, and shouted really loudly which was a benefit when he would have to coach the team from the goal. He scared opponents off easily, grabbing the ball before they could shoot to keep the score at zero. Liam shared a house with Zayn, Louis and Brad, who were also playing tonight. Zayn was a little bit more of an introvert, and I didn’t really speak to him much. He did show he was a good midfielder though. He was quick and could pass the ball to his teammates effortlessly. When he did score though, he wouldn’t hesitate to cheer loudly and scare everyone with his intensity. 
Brad was a little bit older than the rest, but he was great nonetheless. He was very broad in the shoulders and had legs every gym boy would be jealous of. He was the ex-boyfriend of my sister’s, who also attended this college a few years ago. But to me, he still felt more like an older brother than someone who had been in my sister’s life for years. 
Louis was very serious. He was known for only having one thing on his mind, and that was to score goals. He was quick, could dribble fast and made the stronger players against him look back at him in surprise. Others called him Suarez because he was just that good, and his name was close to Luiz’, which made it easier for his teammates to choose a name. He was actually the only one, alongside Harry, to maybe get upgraded to a higher team. From what I heard of some girls on campus, was that he was a bit snarky. He had some quick-witted comebacks, and he didn’t care if he would hurt your feelings.
The house right next to their one, was filled with other boys from the team. This one was occupied with Josh, Ben and Harry. They had been friends since they were around sixteen, and now had the best bond you could have as college brothers. The three boys were always seen with each other, going out together and even doing groceries together. It wouldn’t surprise me if they also fucked the same girls. 
I actually didn’t know them that well, they were just known around campus. That house was classed as the party house and had a reputation of being used to shag a new girl every week. Don’t get me wrong, they were also good at their sport, but the girls they pulled mostly went for their looks rather than for their skills. 
It wasn’t a surprise that two of the boys that I knew, Louis and Harry, played as strikers, in the centre forward position. Harry was the only one that I had never actually spoken to before but knew from the parties. He was in the team because he was good, but also because he could easily show off to the ladies that way. He was popular amongst the college, mainly because he offered up his house to all the party-goers that wanted to celebrate a win that he created. No-one complained about that, seeing as he was gifted with the most attractive face on the campus. He could dribble the ball, yes, and he had the skill of a young Neymar when it came to approaching the goal. But with those eyes and smile with dimples, and his full head of curls that were covered in a backwards snap-back most of the time, I couldn’t help but check him out instead of his moves on the field. He was the captain of the team, living up to his name. He was also a leader of the group outside of football, which made all the girls like him even more.
“Ahh,” Niall exhaled, “shame I don’t know you.” 
This time, I shoved him, making him laugh. He was already a pain in my arse. “Fuck off.”
The boys were playing for around fifteen minutes now, without something happening that would probably make me do some work. The coach was getting into it, standing up every so often and giving the players some tips. He had really created a team, I felt like. You could feel the bond and fondness between them. When a player fell down, another player helped him up and patted him to ask if he was okay. When it almost went wrong and the opposing team had a shot at the goal, everyone from the team would shout positives to each other. It felt like a real team. This team wasn’t only together while playing, though. I had seen them all at parties together and they also liked to play outside of the games they already had. 
I was really into it the first fifteen minutes, but now I was growing kind of bored. Sure, watching boys play was fun, but with no work or particular action, it was kind of boring. Especially since it was a friendly match. The one form of entertainment I got, however, was Niall, who was really into the game.
“Fuck’s sake, Leon! You’re a defender! You should play in the back!” He shouted profanities to his team mates, cheering them on. 
When Niall saw that Leon didn’t comply, he nudged another player next to him and said something in his ear with a scowl on his face. It made me grin lightly in my seat, him being so serious. I liked watching them already. 
“Come on!” He yelled again, standing up in his seat, “Run Louis! Go after…” 
I was looking at Niall with a smile on my face. I also saw how his face turned into a grimace and his hands went to cover his mouth. “Oooh,” 
I looked at the field, panicked. Niall nudged me, tapping his hands on my arm. I saw that Louis had fallen to the ground, his arms holding his leg up now, groaning in pain. It was probably his ankle. I didn’t know what to do at first, shocked that something had actually happened. I looked at Niall, who was already looking at me, nudging his head towards the field. “Go!”
I jumped from my seat, wanting to run straight to the victim. I saw the referee signing for me, which made me run onto the field even more desperately. After a couple of seconds of running, I realised I had forgotten my bag. Fuck. Seriously? Groaning to myself in embarrassment, I quickly grabbed my supplies and ran a little quicker to the boy who was lying on the field in pain. 
“Hey,” I said as I approached him, a little out of breath from running so quickly. 
He didn’t look at me, just kept touching his ankle. It made me frown, it was probably really bad. He was crying out in pain, and some teammates and opponents had gathered around him to see what happened. In the meantime I had wet the sponge in the bag that the coach had brought with him, stretching Louis’ leg. He didn’t really want to, resisting to want to move it. 
“Don’t worry, it’ll be alright.” 
As I was wetting his ankle to cool it down over his shoes, I tried to look if it was bruised or if it had swollen up. None so far that I could see, so that was a good sign. I stretched his leg a bit to keep it moving, but with his socks on, I couldn’t see if there were any wounds or cuts. I tried to sit him upright, but he wasn’t having it. “Calm down,” He hissed, still holding his ankle. He sat upright now, finally looking who was taking care of him. When he saw it was me, he raised his eyebrows. 
“What’re ye doing here?”
I looked at him in shock, already not wanting to help him anymore. So much for running hurriedly over to him. I tried to not react to his degrading question, although it was hard. I continued to check out his foot, trying to place it straight down on the field. He placed his other food next to the injured one, and leaned on his knees with his elbows. The trainer gave Louis a bottle with water, which he gladly took. He took a large gulp, sitting there for a while. Was I overreacting or something? He seemed to be in a lot of pain, why was he now so calm and chilling?
I started grabbing my things, giving Louis one last look to see if he was okay. He seemed to be fine, being helped up by another team mate and testing to stand on it. 
I couldn’t believe this, he was groaning about his ankle no less than one minute ago! What an idiot. Letting me come all the way over here for nothing. As I was walking away frowned my eyebrows in confusion. If it was going to be like this the whole time, I was gone. Not gonna happen. I was here for a reason and the team mates should take that seriously. 
I looked back one last time to Louis who was now laughing with Brad, which resulted in me bumping into someone. His back was hard. He had drawn his head back so he could fill his mouth with water, causing me to also run into the back of this someone’s arms. 
“Fuck, sorry.” I exclaimed, “I shouldn’t..”
When he turned his head around and I saw who it was, I immediately shut my mouth and stared at him. I was frozen into my place for a moment, not knowing what to say. He turned around completely, a dimple showing on his face. I blushed. He was even more attractive up close.
“Don’t worry about it, babe.” He didn’t look angry or anything at all, he actually smiled, which made me feel a little bit better. I wanted to keep on walking to let me soak in my distress towards the situation that just occured, when Louis spoke up again from behind us, “So who’s the pretty girl who wears tight ass clothes to her job?” 
I heard him laugh quietly at his own remark, and he said it loud enough to let his mates in on it too. Instead of just ignoring him and walking on, I decided to turn around and shout after him, 
“Someone who can actually pull it off.”
His team mates ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed’ at my quick remark. I sighed. Harry was still looking at me. I saw his face turn into a frown, silently apologizing to me with his gaze. I shrugged at him. My comeback towards Louis made me feel good again. He’s the idiot.
When I turned around again, and actually began walking, I smiled quietly to myself, forgetting the situation. This was going to be an interesting job.
--
The whistle blew, announcing the end of the game. For a practice match, the game went surprisingly well. There weren't any more instances or fake ankle injuries, what I was glad about. Harry had scored the one and only goal, which made the team go home with a win. Even though the game was for practice, they were pretty happy about it.
"Okay boys! Bundle up," the coach announced as everyone was walking off the field. I was still standing by the dug-out, not really knowing if I had to say goodbye or when the next game was. I saw everyone rounding around the coach, listening in, just like I did.
"Great game, happy about this one. Leon, next time: please bring your shin pads, so you could actually play and I could see what condition you're in. I have made notes and I will be announcing who's playing this Saturday, before the real game." The team looked around at each other, gauging who played good tonight and who didn't. 
Apparently they used this match as a mock try-out, so the trainer and coach could see who were in shape and who weren't for the first big game on Saturday.
"Before you all go, I would like to introduce you to our new on scene doctor, who will be helping you if there's anything actually wrong." He glared at Louis when he said that last part, making him scowl.
I took a step forward, looking around the group. I saw that everyone was intensely looking at me, so I spoke up quickly, "Hi everyone, my name's Mattie and just like Patrick said, I'll be helping you guys out during the games."
"You'll help me out outside of the game, too?"
I ignored him, saw that Niall was once again encouraging me and disregarding his team mate who shouted that from the group, nodding his head for me to continue. I smiled a bit, and went on, "I'm studying to be a doctor, and I'm currently doing the bachelors for it, so yeah.."
Patrick, the coach, nodded at me and returned to the group, "For now, keep in shape boys and help each other out. I haven't decided anything yet so miracles can happen!"
The team shuffled away quietly, talking to each other. I tapped Patrick on his shoulder, "Sorry, coach, is there some place where I can put my bag so I don't have to bring it with me every time?" 
He nodded, gazing above me to where the boys were walking, "Of course Mattie, just a moment,” He took two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly, making me try to cover my ears, “Captain!" he shouted, "Harry come here!" 
I turned around and saw that Harry was saying goodbye to his teammates, as he already heard his couch, before jogging over to us. He nodded at me, looking me up and down and placed his arms in his sides as a greeting and turned to Patrick, "What's up coach?" 
Patrick cleared his throat and looked at me, "Mattie here would like to put her bag in the dressing room so she won't have to take it with her," he started grabbing his keys from his pocket, "you can show her, yes?" 
Harry nodded, taking the keys from him. "No worries coach, I'll help her." 
The coach patted Harry in his shoulder, "Thank you, bring the keys to my office tomorrow. And work on your left foot!" 
Niall was waving goodbyes at me, so I quickly waved back, “Bye!” and turned towards Harry. 
With the team and Niall gone, it was just Harry and I. It was still dark, with only the lights from the field still on. Harry jiggled the keys in front of us, and winked at me, "I'll show ya," 
It wasn't that I was nervous or anything, but I hesitated for two seconds before strolling behind him. He was so cocky, with his kit still on and smirking all the time. I couldn't help but watch him while he was playing. He had a certain glow around him, an aura that just radiated confidence. He could probably pull everything off and he certainly could wrap everyone around his finger. 
"So you enjoyed the game, doc?" 
I cringed at the nickname, but decided to let it go this time, "I enjoyed watching it yeah," 
Nodding, he faced me, "You liked my goal?" 
He said it with a smirk and as if he knew I was watching him the whole time, which was true, but he didn't need to know that. 
"Actually, I really liked how Leon could outrun everyone on the field.." 
He stopped abruptly and turned around, in the middle of the path. Once he was fully in front of me, he leaned in, “I saw you watching me, you know.”
Because he stopped suddenly and leaned in immediately, I accidently took a step too much, almost bumping into him again. “Maybe I was watching Louis.”
He laughed, showing me his dimple as he looked to the side. “I know you weren’t, that douchebag really doesn’t know how to play it.”
I nodded my head, and rolled my eyes as if he was stating the obvious. “That’s right.” 
I began walking again, not really knowing where to, but at least in the same direction we were already going. Harry followed me soon after, jumping into step with me. I already saw the building coming closer, which made me think of something. “Why aren’t you all showering in the dressing room after a game?”
He bumped his shoulder with mine, which made me notice the height difference we had. He was a lot taller than me, my eyes looking straight at his collarbones when I turned to look at him. 
I looked up at him, raising my eyebrows in question. 
“You would like to see that, huh?” He stated, smiling shyly at me.
I groaned, “Harryy..”
“Already moaning my name, I see.” 
This time it was me that bumped my shoulder with him, making him laugh in response. “I was just joking, love.” 
When we fell into step once more, he looked ahead and started explaining my question to me, “No we’re not there because it was a practise game and obviously we want to go home fast so we can go to the party later, so we just decided to shower at home.”
I nodded my head, kneading my eyebrows in confusion. There was a party tonight? I haven’t heard anything about that. I quite liked going to parties. Normally my friend Niamh made sure we could get invites so we could go together, but not tonight apparently. It was a Wednesday after all, so maybe she just wanted to stay in tonight. “A party?” I asked Harry. 
He nodded, “Yeah it’s like a frat party only, I would have gotten you an invite but I didn’t really know you before this, soo..”
I laughed, grinning to myself. Harry was really nice. At least, nothing like I had pictured him to be in my head. I didn’t like to judge people before I knew them, but with Harry that was kind of inevitable. Also, I couldn’t exactly invite myself now since he said he didn’t know me but I already knew him. I was not going to make a fool of myself, obviously. So I just shrugged.
“Don’t worry about it.”
We had reached the building where the shower rooms were. We walked quite slow, and it was already quite late so it was kind of eerie here. No lights, the doors were all left open and there were no people to be seen. 
“So these are our shower rooms,” Harry started as we walked into the building after he unlocked it, “We normally take the first one, so you can just put your stuff in there.”
The dressing room was big and spacious. Everyone had a seat, there was a whiteboard in there and the showers were in a separate room. The closet that stood against the wall next to the showers, held all the equipment. “There,” Harry said, as he took my bag and placed my stuff in, “A special place for you.”
As he placed my stuff in the closet, I could finally see how he’d looked up close. He still had his short sleeved football shirt on, revealing his tattoos on his arms. For a guy that was still in college, he sure had a lot of them. Not that I minded. 
“Thank you Harry,” I smiled at him, at which he winked in return when he faced me again. Gosh, I could almost feel myself getting red. I was acting like a schoolgirl, I needed to step up my game. “I’ll remember this place,” I said, as I looked at the showers. I could almost imagine all the naked boys right here. 
I smirked, glancing at the shower himself, “I’m sure you will.”
After making sure everything was locked and closed, we started to walk back to the parking lot.  I was sure Harry was also with his car, considering campus was at least a twenty minute walk. Right as we reached our cars and I wanted to say goodbye, he faced me again and leaned on his already open door, “You know what, Mattie?”
I looked up from the inside of my car towards him, giving him a questioning look. “What?”
“You free Saturday?”
He said it so casually that I wasn’t sure how to respond. He wasn’t asking me out on a date was he? I mean, I was attracted to the guy but I barely knew him! And it wasn’t like I wanted to go out with him, really. But I did want to see him. With hesitation evident in my voice, I answered him, “Yeah, why?”
He saw my facial expression and laughed a bit, “To take you up on my offer. We’re having a party again at our house, so if you’d like to come?”
I almost sighed in relief, “Yeah, I’d like that, thank you Harry.” 
He shot a quick wink at me as he started to climb in his car, “No worries!” As a last afterthought, right as I wanted to shut my door, I heard him shout, “And bring your friends!”
--
My friend Niamh was present at the game this time, too. We were here a little early, so we could catch up on our week and talk about everything that had happened to us. She was a friend from years ago, almost from when we were kids, so she knew everything about me. Unfortunately, she didn’t want to be a doctor and had chosen to go pursue her dancing career. She was really good at it, too. She was asked to dance in videoclips and she often performed on stage with singers or bands. It was her job now, one she always wanted. It made me proud of her, because she actually went for it, and ignored her parent’s complaints about it. She had proved them and their comments about how she was never going to make it, wrong. 
We sat in the canteen, which was still fairly quiet. The game would start at two, and it was now one thirty. I had only been to a professional game once, and then I arrived at two on the dot and I didn’t even look if there were many people there. The only time I’d been here was when I met up with the trainer to see if this was the right place for me to take my extra credits. I could choose to work in an elderly home, or at the swimming pool, but I had decided that this would be more fun for me. I didn’t mind watching 22 boys running after a ball for two hours back to back, particularly. 
Niamh had ordered a coffee whereas I preferred cold drinks over hot drinks, so I just stuck with some soda. “So how has your week been, Matts?” She said as she took a sip of her drink. 
I smiled at her, excited to tell her she would be having something to do tonight, “Actually, I need to invite you to something.”
Her eyebrows perked up, and she placed the drink on the table, “To where?”
I grinned, “Harry Styles asked me if I wanted to come to this party at his house tonight, and said I could bring some friends.” 
“No way!” She exclaimed gasping, “Harry Styles from the team?” 
I nodded happily back at her, “That’s the one.”
She already started to grab her phone, so she could text our friends, I presumed. “When did he ask you this? I didn’t even know you talked to him!”
After I placed my drink down from taking a sip of it myself, I shrugged casually at her. “Well, I had to help at that game you know,” I said as she nodded at me, “And right after he had to show me where I could put my stuff and started talking about this party he had this Wednesday----”
“Oh yes!” She interrupted me with wide eyes, “So that’s the party Emily talked about! She said she had fucked the captain of the team, and that he was quite good. That’s Harry right?” 
I paused, opening my mouth in surprise. “What? Yeah he is the captain.” 
“That’s so sick! I have to text Emily about this party tonight then,” She said, grinning excitedly at me and putting her phone down to look at me again. “Anyway, go on, I’m listening.”
I coughed, choosing to ignore this disappointing bit of information, “Yeah so he told me about that party and that he couldn’t invite me then, which is a bit weird if I think about it now, but anyways, he invited me for tonight and said I could bring some friends.” I forced a smile on my face as I finished my story and looked at her. 
She copied my smile, “That’s great! Maybe I can finally meet Niall and get to know him better, if you know what I mean,” She said as she wiggled her eyebrows. 
I laughed, genuinely excited for her. “I hope you will!” 
After I had finished my drink, I announced to Niamh that I had to leave if I wanted to be at the dug-outs on time. She wished me well, and said that she would see me tonight. After I hugged her and said goodbye to her and the bartender who had served us, I walked out of the canteen towards the shower rooms. 
I needed to grab my bag if I wanted to be helping players today. Today they had to play against a popular college not far away from where we’re from, so it was kind of exciting to be able to see that. The coach had probably announced who would be playing and who wouldn’t for today, which made the pressure on the players to play well a tad bit higher. I knew that obviously Harry and Louis would be playing, along with our goalie Liam, but the rest of the team was still unsure. For me it would be kind of fun if Niall was still benched, just for entertainment, but he would rather be on the field, I’m sure. Hopefully his knee was doing better.
I had reached the shower rooms and discovered that the door was still open, allowing me to walk right in the building. I knew Harry said it was the first one when we dropped my bag off, so without hesitation I whipped open the door. Right as I did that, I heard commotion and deep yelling from from the inside, causing me to rapidly close the door again. Shit. How the fuck was I supposed to know they were still here, they were just warming up outside!
Bowing my head in embarrassment, I quickly walked out of the building. I would just grab my bag when they were out so I didn’t have to walk in with all of them staring at me. I waited outside, leaning against the wall and just staring ahead at the field they would be playing on. They were taking their sweet time. Probably just discussing the match quickly just before the game started, but to me it felt like ages.  
The other team was walking towards the field in a pack, and the referee started to walk towards this building, probably to let our team know the game was about to start. I actually felt nerves bubbling in my stomach, with everything being so serious in comparison to the last game. There were a lot of supporters walking towards the bleachers, too. 
I was just staring at the field again when the door opened and everyone on the team started to walk out. First it was the coach and trainer, who nodded in greeting. The coach was needed here too, apparently. I saw that Niall walked in the front with his jacket still on, so that meant he was benched again. When he walked by me, he ruffled my hair. “Hey Matts!” 
“Hey!” I shouted after him, “I’m here to help you, you know!”
He turned around and laughed loudly, pointing at his knee, “Not me!’
At that, I didn’t have anything back to say knowing he was benched again, so I just shook my head. 
“Is he messing with you?” 
I heard Harry’s voice before I saw him, making me look up towards him. He was walking at the back of the team’s row to get out of the building with a smile on his face, standing out from everyone else walking before him.  
When he reached me, he stopped and raised his eyebrows, awaiting my answer. “No it’s just Niall,” I told him, shrugging my shoulders indifferently. 
“Right,” He smirked, “Well, I figured ‘t was you that tried to come in during our important speech, so I decided to grab your bag for you.” 
My heart swelled just a little bit at his kind gesture, having not expected this at all from him. Shit, you should never listen to rumours, huh? He proved once again that he could actually be kind.
“Wow, Harry! Thank you so much. That’s so kind of you to do that!” I grabbed the bag from him and in a split second decided I wanted to hug him. I threw myself in his arms, catching him off guard for a second. My bag that I now carried in my hand whipped him in his back, causing him to groan in my shoulder. Hugging me back, he draped his arms slowly around me, positioning them right above my ass. 
When I loosened my arms around him, I nodded my head towards the field, “You should probably go,”
He nodded in confirmation, still standing in close proximity to me. “I do.”
I placed my hand on his shoulder blades, and wished him luck for the game, “Break a leg Harry, or don’t actually.”
He laughed at my comment, showing me his dimples. Before he walked away towards the field, he winked at me, “I’ll try not to.”
When I saw him run on the field and give his teammates one last cheer for good luck, I smirked to myself watching him. It was a good choice to wear my tight yoga pants again, at least. 
--
The game was very intense. Not like practise-match intense, but full on competition match intense. Louis luckily hadn’t faked any injuries yet, so that was a good sign. However, I had to run on the field in the first half for Liam, who had taken a good shot right in his eye. He fell to the ground, making me run on the field for him. When I got there, he was already sitting up and not at all groaning in pain like Louis had, making me smile a bit. At least Liam could handle something. I also discovered his injury wasn’t fake, because I could see a bruise forming immediately. I cooled it a little, but told him it would be better if he took some rest. He said that he’d be fine and would just tell me and the coach if he wanted to switch between the other goalkeeper and him. I was still a bit concerned, but he insisted. So I walked back with my supplies and some worries, hoping that it was really just a shot with the ball, and it wouldn’t turn out to be something worse. 
The score was 2-1 for our team, with just ten minutes to go when I came back from grabbing some more water. It was so tense, all the players were proper going for it. The bleachers were filled with supporters, all reacting to the match as if their life depended on it. When the opponents came near our goal, they would stand up and shout at our defenders. And when our team was striking and near the opponents goal, they would yell and scream for us to score. I was nervous too. I was on the edge of my seat, hoping that the score would stay the same. I was fiddling with the hem of my shirt to stop myself from standing up and screaming towards the players. 
We did have a good few people that came out to support us, yes. But our biggest supporter sat on the bench. He was biting his nails, screaming in frustration and cursing loudly whenever we missed a goal. 
“Fuck! Who in their goddamn mind would even pass like that!”, or “Holy shit! That was fucking close!” and my favourite: “Son of a… get that fucking ball in the goal you arseholes!”
Least to say, I was entertained for the match.  
Currently we had the ball on our side, passing each other the ball and walking forwards towards the goal. Once we had crossed the midfielders of the opponents, Zayn passed the ball towards Brad who then passed it on to Ben. Ben had a good shot, and could easily get the ball miles away. So when Louis sprinted towards the goal, Ben saw an opportunity to pass the ball onto him. He put the ball in front of him and shot the ball, right into Louis’ feet. I could see that Louis was looking for someone to help him out, because there were two defenders near the goal and he couldn’t pass them himself. Luckily Harry had seen it, and sprinted with him on the other side. He made sure he ran close to the goal but not to close, so he had the space to shoot the ball right in if he got it. He shouted for Louis to pass the ball onto him, and Louis immediately did. The ball was flying over the defenders, in a straight line towards Harry. Harry prepared for it, taking his foot back so he could place it right on it. He jumped, the ball almost near him, and kicked the ball--- 
Right before he could kick it, a defender sprung onto him making Harry fall right to the ground. “Nooooo!” Niall yelled loudly from beside me, “For fuck’s sake no!”
I heard everyone gasp from the audience, immediately voicing their worries from behind me. I panicked for a second, freezing in my spot. Shit! Harry just fell to the ground. He was laying there, in pain. I heard the coach shout my name, making me snap back to reality. Immediately I grabbed my bag, and ran towards him in a hurry. Shiiit. Why Harry? Others had gathered around him, so I couldn’t see how Harry was doing. Right as I arrived near him, I shouted for them to walk away. 
“Everyone! Leave!” 
My voice must have sounded really angry or intimidating, because everyone hurried away quickly. This way, I could finally see Harry. He was laying on the ground, on his back. He had his hands on his forehead, making me think there was something wrong with his head. Hopefully he didn’t have a concussion or something. The defender that had pushed him to the ground, was still looking at Harry. He was probably worried about what he’d done, but I didn’t care. 
“What are you doing? Leave!” 
He started saying that he was sorry, and that he could help, but I wasn’t having it. “I don’t care, leave before I force you.” 
He nodded, worry evident on his face. For a second I felt bad, but then I saw that Harry was still laying here, and then those thoughts escaped my mind right away. The defender walked away eventually, leaving me alone with Harry. I looked at him, seeing how he had one hand over his head, feeling for bruising. The moment I sat down next to him, he turned his head towards me. He opened his eyes, and smiled.
“Am I dreaming?” 
Relief washed over me immediately. At least he could still make jokes. I began sitting next to his head, wetting my sponge once again and placing it over his head. “You okay, Harry?” 
He nodded, his head in front of my knees on the ground. I looked at him from above, so that I could see how his body reacted when I would do certain things to see if he was okay. Right now I had my hands on his forehead with the sponge in between, “I’m fine actually, Mattie. I just wanted you to come save me.”
I rolled my eyes, not believing him. “No you didn’t.” 
He laughed, causing his chest to go up and down, “I did,” He smirked, his eyes shining as he looked at me. 
I shook my head in disbelief, staring at him smiling at me for a second. But then I remembered I could take revenge. He saw that I was wetting the sponge again, and began to sit up straight. “No you won’t!’
I began splashing him with water in revenge, making him soaking wet. I was laughing my ass off, seeing him so flustered and shocked at what I was doing. “Mattie! Shit, stop!”
I was aware that the rest of the team and the coach were still watching us, so I stopped splashing him, throwing the sponge in the water bag. I took a step towards his soaked body, pressing my lips together and looking him in the eye mischievously. “Next time you’ll play a joke on me like that, I’ll take you to the hospital so you’ll have to sit next to Niall for a month.”
He laughed loudly, throwing his head back. “Noted, doc, noted.” 
As I walked away smiling and the referee began gathering everyone together again, I heard him shout one more thing after me, “I’ll pay you back tonight Mattie! Watch out!”
I just shot my middle finger in the air, hearing him bark out another laugh in response. 
--
The party was in full swing when Niamh, Emily, Joey and I arrived. It was in Harry’s and his roommates’ house, one that I had never been in before, let alone seen how packed it could be. Everyone that was just a little bit known around campus, was there. I recognized some people from my class, and others I knew because they were popular around campus. 
When we arrived, the door was unlocked and you could just walk right in. That wasn’t unusual with the parties I went to, if we ever went to house parties. There was a pile of jackets formed, so we just threw ours over it. Joey and Emily claimed they knew some people and went off to speak to them, leaving me and Niamh alone at the party. 
“Let’s have a drink,” Niamh said to me over the loud music, “We need to get drunk to process this!”
I nodded in agreement, already taking her arm towards the kitchen. It was already quite busy, but we had come a little late. We didn’t want to be the first ones to arrive, as we didn’t know a lot of people here. All the drinks were placed on a table, leaving us with a lot of choice of what we wanted to drink tonight. I hadn’t realised before this that these college boys actually spend a lot of time planning these things. They had a lot to think about. And to be fair, they had done a good job at it.
We had appropriately dressed ourselves, luckily. Since we didn’t really know what to expect, we just went for black: Niamh wearing a tight dress with spaghetti straps and me wearing a skirt with a t-shirt. It was something you could never go wrong with.
I poured myself some alcohol, waiting for Niamh to do the same. Once we both had our drinks, we leaned against the table and started looking at people. This was our favourite activity to do. You saw some crazy people at parties, so we had a lot to think about. 
“Oh wow, there’s already people on the edge of drunkenness.” Niamh laughed, raising her eyebrows at a boy who had run straight towards the loo. “Jesus wept.”
“Shit,” I exclaimed, looking at a girl who had just came in with a gift in her hand, “It’s someone’s birthday? Did we need to bring a gift?”
She just shrugged her shoulders at me. “No fucking clue.” And resumed to look around the room. We had been sipping on our drinks lightly, just enjoying the music that was blasting loudly and how everyone was dancing and talking with each other.
“Look at that girl, she's going for it!” Niamh pointed out at me, looking at a girl that was standing in the middle of the room, dancing her ass off. I followed her gaze, seeing how the girl was dancing to the music, not caring about anyone it seemed like. I wish I could be like her. “She’s really good!”
Right as I wanted to respond to Niamh, I saw that Louis had walked in the door she was close to. I rolled my eyes and turned around, looking at the sink. 
“What’re you doing?” Niamh asked me incredulously, looking at me over her shoulder. 
“I don’t know,” I answered her, “He just annoys me.”
She came to stand beside me, searching for my eyes. “How? Last time we talked about him you said he was hot!”
I shrugged my shoulders again, “He’s just annoying.”
“Right.” She answered, turning around again and taking a sip of her drink. “If you want to fuck him just tell me. I could be your wing woman.”
I bumped my hips with hers, and turned around to look at the crowd again, “Never.” 
She laughed, standing up straight and finishing up her drink. “Okay then, just tell me why another time. I just saw Harry come in and you need to talk with him.” 
Immediately I felt my stomach go wild. Shit. My eyes began to search around the room, looking for his head of curls amongst the crowd. I found him talking with a friend of his from his team, who’s name I couldn’t remember. Harry looked extremely attractive tonight. Instead of the usual kit I saw him in, he wore all black. His black vans stood out with the other clothing he wore, black skinny jeans and a plain black t-shirt. Even with such a simple look, he made it seem like he wore a million dollars. As he was talking, his jawline moved with his mouth and it made me just weak in the knees. He was actually so hot, how hadn’t I fully appreciated this man before? 
It seemed like he was asking if his friend wanted a drink, because he leaned into him with his ear, nodded and started walking away towards the kitchen. Oh no, why had I been sitting in the kitchen, so obviously out in the open? He strode confidently towards the drinks, when in mid-walk he saw me sitting there. Niamh also recognised him and saw he was walking over here, so she made up an excuse to leave. “Just need the loo for a moment,” 
I couldn’t answer her, because Harry interrupted my thoughts. He was also smirking at me as he arrived right in front of me, only leaving a few inches in between us. I crossed my arms, looking up at him challengingly. 
“Hey doc,” he greeted, speaking in a raspy voice. He began to smile mischievously, making me wonder what he was going to say, “Or should I say, hero?”
I groaned out loud, hitting him in the chest with one hand, and shaking my head. It made him laugh, making his chest vibrate. I could almost feel the vibrations with how close we were. “Shut up,”
He was still chuckling a bit as if he were still thinking about it. Suddenly he stopped, and looked me right in the eyes. “Really though, that was really hot with how you fought everyone out of your way for me.”
I felt my face go warm and I tried to not to smile too much. “Thank you,” I said, straightening up a bit and raising my chin up at him, “But like hell that I fought everyone away.” 
He gasped, nudging me with his arms “Heyy, you did!” he said with a fake offense, frowning his eyebrows, “You were basically performing CPR on me with the way you acted!”
I laughed, making me lean into him a little bit and hide in his shoulder. When I brought myself back in front of him, I raised my eyebrows at him, “You would like me to give you a mouth to mouth performance, wouldn’t you?” 
My heart skipped a bit when he got all serious and looked me straight in the eye. “I would,” 
Our eye contact was intense, I could feel it in my stomach. He was so close to me, I could feel his breath on my face. I was almost certain that he could feel my heartbeat against his chest. We weren’t even touching completely, but it was beating so hard that I wouldn’t doubt it. I looked at his green eyes, to his plump and pink lips. They were a nice shape, and I felt the urge to just kiss them. I didn’t though, maybe he did this with every other girl he tried to get in his bed. 
I was proven right when he took my hand, “Come with me,” 
I tried to act confused, furrowing my eyebrows, “Where to?” 
He didn’t respond, just tugged on my hand and began leading the way. People weren’t even looking at us, they were dancing or drinking and talking. And even though I liked doing those things at parties, this thing that I thought Harry was planning to do with me, seemed much more fun. 
He made his way towards the door to go upstairs, avoiding bumping in with people or getting splashed by someone’s drink. Once we were on the way up he let go of my hand so we could walk better. There were only one or two people upstairs, making out with each other or searching for someone. Two doors were open out of the four, and Harry went into a closed one with me. 
He revealed his bedroom to me, which was completely dark apart from the moon that lit up the room a little bit. His room was mostly a dark blue, with a grey colour covering the one wall that wasn’t blue. His bed stood in the middle of the room with two bedside tables next to it. He had a desk and his sports bag that he had used still stood in his room, untouched. He didn’t have a desk, but a dresser was shoved against the wall. Once I did my onceover, I saw Harry standing in front of his bed, looking at me. 
He smiled, and began to walk over to me again, making me back into the door once he reached me completely. He stood closer than he did when we were in the kitchen, his pelvis against mine and his chest leaning against my body. “Hey,” He said again, even raspier this time. 
I looked up at him, examining his face, “Hey.”
He cleared his throat, and hesitated a bit, “Can I kiss you?”
I hesitated, “One thing.”
He raised his eyebrows, “Tell me you don’t fuck girls every week, otherwise I won’t be able to handle this.”
He took a step back, frowning, “Who told you that?”
Looking up at him, I felt myself growing more nervous, “Just hear that about you.”
He looked up at the ceiling, then back at me. “I promise you Mattie. I didn’t bring you here or invite you just to fuck you. I’d happily talk with you all night. You seem fun.”
I smiled, “And,” he continued, “my roommates are the ones who get laid every party. I do have sex yeah, but I promise you, I haven’t had sex since the first week of this semester.”
With the sincerity in his eyes, I believed him, “Okay, you can kiss me now.”
“Only if you want to.”
I looked into his eyes, “I really do.”
With one nod and another reassuring glance he was in the clear and we were done with being slow. He smacked his lips against mine, moving his arms from against the door to my body. Roaming his hand around my hips to my ass as he hungrily kissed me. I kissed him back, recuperating his movements. He squeezed my ass, making me gasp a little bit, giving him access to use his tongue in the kiss as well. I moved my arms from his shoulders to his neck, pushing him closer to me with my fingertips in his hair. Our tongues were wet and desperate, making the kiss hot and heavy. Once he had enough of just making out, he grabbed me by my thighs and lifted me up, turning me around towards the bed. 
I fell backwards onto his soft mattress, with Harry on top of me. My legs were around him in an instant, crossing my feet on his back. I still had my sneakers on and all my clothes, but not for long. Harry’s hand went from my ass to the hem of my shirt. I lifted my back for him, pausing in the kiss, to let him take my top off in one swift movement, leaving me in my bra. I didn’t wear my sexiest bra, but he didn’t seem to mind. His mouth went from the sweet spots on my neck towards my cleavage, leaving wet kisses on my body. He was already working on getting my bra off, pushing the straps off my shoulders. I sat upright for him, making him readjust his position to get closer to me. He was struggling with the clasp, so I unclasped my bra for him and threw it on the ground. He didn’t waste any time cupping my breasts, feeling them and leaning in my neck to leave some more spots, but I wasn’t having it. I pushed him away on his chest, making him stand on the ground again. He looked at me in confusion for a moment, until I stood up and pushed him on the bed. I bent my knees so I could reach his t-shirt, and he got the idea. Moving his arms up to let me take his shirt off, he gladly let me do it. 
His chest was revealed to me, just like mine was to him. This wasn’t enough, though. I crouched on my knees completely so I was level with his belly button, and began to unbutton his jeans. His bulge was evident in the tight material, so when I moved the zipper down I cupped him over his jeans and pants, making him groan in response. 
“Fuck, Mattie.” 
I just smiled at him, moving to tug at his jeans. He got the hint and thrust his hips up, so I could take his jeans off. Once they were off, he was just left in his boxers. I moved a little closer to him, so I was level with his bulge, making me look up at him with wide eyes. “Impressive,” I smirked. 
He wasn’t having it, and took his boxers off immediately, revealing his dick to me that sprung to his stomach. He must be proper into it, because I had never had a man be this turned on from just kissing. He threw his boxers onto the pile we had already made, and leaned on his arms so he could look at me properly. I took him in my hands, gliding my thumb over his tip. I looked at him for his consent, and he nodded at me eagerly. That was all I needed before I licked him on the tip. He responded loudly, groaning and moaning through the room. I never knew he was so loud in the bedroom. 
I licked him from his balls to the tip, and let him slip in my mouth to take all of him. He moved his hand in my hair, not pushing me, but finally having something he could do with his hands. 
I started bobbing my head up and down, all the while looking at him how he responded to me. His eyes were closed and his pink lips were voluminous and opened just slightly. 
I enjoyed giving blowjobs, especially if it was someone as responsive as Harry. He was groaning and moaning for me, letting me know how much he enjoyed it. “A-ah,” He cried once I hit him in the back of my throat. “Fuck,”
Kissing his tip, feeling his balls and sliding my tongue over his dick was making me wet as well. He still had one hand in my hair, the other going from my arms that were drawn over his upper thighs. My naked boobs rested on his naked legs, and my still clothed butt was stuck in the air. 
He slid his hand over my arm and went to my back, leaning over my head that was still bobbing over his cock. Once he could reach the hem of my skirt, he started moving the zipper. At least, trying to. 
I stopped sucking him off and let my mouth pop when his dick was out of my mouth, making him moan in annoyance. I quickly took my skirt and panties off and went back on my knees in front of him, when he was the one that stopped me this time. He grabbed my arms and basically threw me on the bed, covering my body immediately. Fuck, he was good. 
He started kissing me again, while I searched for his dick and began giving him a handjob. He cupped my breasts and squeezed them. I started leading his dick towards my entrance, giving him a hint of what I wanted. He backed away to look at me with wide eyes, paused for a bit and went to his dresser to get a condom. I watched him as he slid it on, and grabbed his shoulders as he started to position himself in front of me. Before he did, he looked at me once more. I nodded in approval, and he slid himself in me slowly. I could feel him filling me up immediately, making me throw my head back in bliss. “Fuck, Harry..”
“You like my dick, don’t you?” He said as he began thrusting into me. 
I could only nod in response, gasping as he looked at me, “Tell me,” he said as he thrusted into me hard once, “Tell me how you feel.”
His trust were getting harder with each second I wasn’t responding, because I could only moan in pleasure, “Fuck Harry,” I moaned, “I feel so good..”
He reacted with his hips. Thrusting into me rapidly, making my breasts go up and down and the bed creak against the wall. “I know, baby, I know.” 
“Holy shit, I do.” 
He started to kiss my neck, hungrily going for it as my legs crossed at his back once again. I was certain that the guests that were still here could hear us, but I didn’t give a shit. I wanted to everyone to know that he was fucking me, and not some other girl. 
“You’re so good baby, I knew it,” 
I started to roam his back with my arms, feeling his muscles move each time he thrusted. His dick was so long and hard that he hit the right spots inside of me each time. I could feel my head getting a little lighter, and my stomach filled with warmth. “I’m gonna cum, Harry, please,”
“Begging for it, see?” He cockily stated once he moved to look at me again, he even had a smirk on his face when he was fucking me. “Knew you would do me good,”
“Mhh, Harry, almost there,” 
“Me too, baby, me too.” 
He thrusted a couple more times before I could really feel it, my pleasure taking over me completely. I came hard, my legs trembling around him and my head thrown back. My orgasm made me cry out loud, and he was still going at it. 
He was coming too, I knew it. His thrust became harder before they slowed down, squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure. He groaned loudly when he came, looking beautiful while he did. His cheeks had gone slightly pink, making his lips stand out even more, and his hair was all dishevelled and damp with sweat. Once I felt that he filled the condom inside of me, he opened up his eyes and slid out of me. 
We both smiled at each other and started catching our breaths from out intensive activities, “Fuck, Mattie.” He laughed, pulling out of me completely and leaned on his arms to stand up. Once he cleaned up the condom, throwing it in the bin, he started walking back to the bed. He plopped on it, almost on top of me. “That was good.” 
I nodded in response, “Almost as good as Louis’ goals.” I smirked, hoping to get a reaction out of him with bullshit. 
He laughed, letting his head fall on the pillow, “Shut up.”
There we lay, both naked over the covers with our chest moving as we breathed, still hearing the thumping music from downstairs where the party was still going in full swing. 
“I told you,” He started, looking at me playfully, “I would get you wet later.” 
I groaned, but couldn’t help to let a laugh escape. I grabbed my pillow from underneath my head, saw how he was smiling to himself, and smacked him in the head with it. 
Payback, my arse.
I felt it from the moment I had walked on the field with the others. 
Someone was staring at me. Or everyone was. I didn’t look behind me to see if it was true, but I could feel their eyes staring straight at my ass. They asked me to wear athletic clothing for this, so I just chose the first thing in my dresser that I saw, picking out some black yoga pants. The material clung to my butt and I regretted I had put them on the moment I had arrived here. My oversized sweater I chose to wear over it luckily covered my upper half, a decision I did appreciate I made now.
Walking onto the sports centre was nerve-wracking in itself. I liked sports, I liked watching it, but having the possibility of someone else watching you do something was disturbing. I couldn’t find the way I was supposed to go. I didn’t bring my hair tie so I was forced to keep my hair floating around my face and this place was huge. There were several buildings and a squala of fields for specific sports. Indoors, outdoors, you name it. The college was probably sponsored by some wealthy upper class fathers who wanted their sons to be on the radar for new opportunities.
Luckily, I was led right to the canteen which was easily locatable since it had a terrace. A terrace! Lord, I feel like I should’ve worn other clothing for this. 
I approached a team player who had blond hair, feeling the nerves floating around in my stomach, “Uhh… Hi.” 
The boy who was filling up his water bottle turned around, raising his eyebrows, “Hi there.” 
Shit, he was nice. I inhaled, “I was looking for uhh, the football team…” He gave me the same look, “I was asked to help.., or I need to help with their inju-”
“Ahh!” He exclaimed, disregarding his bottle and he turned to fully face me, “You’re the one!”
I shrugged my shoulders, “I guess I am?”
“My name’s Niall.” He held out his hand, “I’m the star player of the time you’ve been assigned to!” 
I shook his hand, smiling a little. “Hi,” We still held hands, “Do you know where I’m supposed to go?” 
Still holding my hand, he began shaking it up and down. “I’m glad we finally have someone.”
“You are?”
“Yeh, we desperately need new people to liven things up a little.” 
I pried my hands from his grip, which wasn’t that strong. But I was already sweating, I didn’t need more reasons to be nervous. “Alright, that sounds good.” 
The pregnant pause that followed made him inhale and pack his bottle in his bag, “You are probably wanted by the football field, which is right there.” 
He pointed out somewhere behind me, making me turn my head. I already saw some players dribbling with the ball, so that was easily recognisable. “Go to the coach, he’s the tallest and biggest one. Has a loud voice too, probably won’t miss him.” He grinned, making me smile up at him. 
“I’ll meet you there in a second, we’re starting in like two minutes.” 
I nodded, “Alright, thanks…”
“Niall.” He answered for me, giving me a wink. “But you can call me anytime.” 
I rolled my eyes at his remark, but by the look on his face and the laugh that followed his statement, I knew it was to lighten my mood and assure me. 
I walked towards the field with a small smile on my face and with a lot less nerves. The players were now assembling and putting their heads together so I walked towards the dug-out and waited for them. There weren’t a lot of spectators or bystanders standing around the field, since it was a friendly game. I inhaled again. This should be fine. I recognized some of the players. They were all from the same college after all. Why did I sign up for this? I’m such an idiot.
When the team was done with sharing strategy and doing their, what appeared to be a yell, the trainer walked towards me. I was nervous when he approached me, he towered over everyone. 
“Hi Mattie,” he said, “You ready?”
I stood there, with my own little bag of supplies in my hand. I nodded. Luckily he spoke to me when I got drafted for this, so I already knew him. What if it was someone else who ended up being the coach? Since our conversation was very brief, you’re a nurse, I’m in need of a carer for the team, the deal was easily made. I didn’t know exactly what to take with me for this, but it was a college football team anyways, so nothing was really high-class. I had put some aspirin, plasters, scissors, antiseptic wipes, bandages and tweezers in my supply bag. That should be enough for a college team right? Surely they wouldn’t crash and fall every single game. He saw me fiddling with the bag, and smiled at me, “Good luck.” 
I nodded at him in gratitude and looked around the field. Gosh, couldn’t I talk? I was punching myself in my head. The trainer, whose name I seemed to have forgotten the second after the interview, sat down on his seat. 
Right now, all the players on the field were starting to go to their positions, other members of staff, the referee, seconds officials and the trainers and staff of the opposing team, all seemed ready to go. It wasn't hot or cold, but the slight breeze that blew over the field chilled me just slightly, making the tip of my nose go red. My job was already halfway done, which is just waiting for something to happen and providing the supplies they needed. If something did happen, I was the chosen person to help the players and fix their injuries. I didn't expect that these games would be very intense anyways. The players often knew each other since the teams were always against other colleges. Today it was just a practise match to start off the season, so I should be fine. 
The minute everyone started and the whistle blew, I wondered where Niall even was. Wasn’t he one of the players? As everyone was running and shouting on the field, I felt like he fit right in. I let my eyes wander. I didn’t know that much about football. I rarely watched the Champions League, I could just about name all the rules. The players, however, were something that did interested me. Especially the ones I already knew.
As I was sitting there, everyone seemed to be in the right place and doing exactly what everyone expected of them. The coach shouted an obnoxious loud praise towards his team, making me jump in my seat. The referee whistled at what suggestiably were the right times. No-one seemed to be getting angry at him. They were getting into it already. It'll probably go fine tonight, and my nerves I had bubbling in my stomach would probably be for nothing. At least, I was hoping for that. I watched the players going for the ball intensely, running after it and passing each other the ball. 
Right as the spirits of the team heightened and they almost scored, Niall crept up from behind me. “You didn’t even give me your name.” 
I shrieked, startling even the trainer who was deep into the game, “Jesus, Niall. Don’t scare me like that.” 
He sat down next to me, “Sorry, babe.” 
“My name’s Mattie.” I said, looking at him briefly. He nodded his head, “Like that.” 
I smiled, turning my head towards the field. “Aren’t you playing?”
He pointed towards his knee, that was covered by his track pants, “This annoying thing won’t let me.” 
“Ahh, that’s too bad.” I grimaced. 
“It’s alright,” he shrugged, “get to sit next to you.” 
I rolled my eyes again. “You’re not getting any.” 
He burst out laughing, “What! How could you resist me?” 
I playfully smiled at him. I was glad he was here to ease my nerves, “Dunno,” I glanced at the field, “quite like the others.” 
“You already know them?” He asked. 
“Yeah,” I nodded, “same college.”
Liam was the goalie. He was broad, quick and could move fast so he was the one that suited that job the most. He was also rough, and shouted really loudly which was a benefit when he would have to coach the team from the goal. He scared opponents off easily, grabbing the ball before they could shoot to keep the score at zero. Liam shared a house with Zayn, Louis and Brad, who were also playing tonight. Zayn was a little bit more of an introvert, and I didn’t really speak to him much. He did show he was a good midfielder though. He was quick and could pass the ball to his teammates effortlessly. When he did score though, he wouldn’t hesitate to cheer loudly and scare everyone with his intensity. 
Brad was a little bit older than the rest, but he was great nonetheless. He was very broad in the shoulders and had legs every gym boy would be jealous of. He was the ex-boyfriend of my sister’s, who also attended this college a few years ago. But to me, he still felt more like an older brother than someone who had been in my sister’s life for years. 
Louis was very serious. He was known for only having one thing on his mind, and that was to score goals. He was quick, could dribble fast and made the stronger players against him look back at him in surprise. Others called him Suarez because he was just that good, and his name was close to Luiz’, which made it easier for his teammates to choose a name. He was actually the only one, alongside Harry, to maybe get upgraded to a higher team. From what I heard of some girls on campus, was that he was a bit snarky. He had some quick-witted comebacks, and he didn’t care if he would hurt your feelings.
The house right next to their one, was filled with other boys from the team. This one was occupied with Josh, Ben and Harry. They had been friends since they were around sixteen, and now had the best bond you could have as college brothers. The three boys were always seen with each other, going out together and even doing groceries together. It wouldn’t surprise me if they also fucked the same girls. 
I actually didn’t know them that well, they were just known around campus. That house was classed as the party house and had a reputation of being used to shag a new girl every week. Don’t get me wrong, they were also good at their sport, but the girls they pulled mostly went for their looks rather than for their skills. 
It wasn’t a surprise that two of the boys that I knew, Louis and Harry, played as strikers, in the centre forward position. Harry was the only one that I had never actually spoken to before but knew from the parties. He was in the team because he was good, but also because he could easily show off to the ladies that way. He was popular amongst the college, mainly because he offered up his house to all the party-goers that wanted to celebrate a win that he created. No-one complained about that, seeing as he was gifted with the most attractive face on the campus. He could dribble the ball, yes, and he had the skill of a young Neymar when it came to approaching the goal. But with those eyes and smile with dimples, and his full head of curls that were covered in a backwards snap-back most of the time, I couldn’t help but check him out instead of his moves on the field. He was the captain of the team, living up to his name. He was also a leader of the group outside of football, which made all the girls like him even more.
“Ahh,” Niall exhaled, “shame I don’t know you.” 
This time, I shoved him, making him laugh. He was already a pain in my arse. “Fuck off.”
The boys were playing for around fifteen minutes now, without something happening that would probably make me do some work. The coach was getting into it, standing up every so often and giving the players some tips. He had really created a team, I felt like. You could feel the bond and fondness between them. When a player fell down, another player helped him up and patted him to ask if he was okay. When it almost went wrong and the opposing team had a shot at the goal, everyone from the team would shout positives to each other. It felt like a real team. This team wasn’t only together while playing, though. I had seen them all at parties together and they also liked to play outside of the games they already had. 
I was really into it the first fifteen minutes, but now I was growing kind of bored. Sure, watching boys play was fun, but with no work or particular action, it was kind of boring. Especially since it was a friendly match. The one form of entertainment I got, however, was Niall, who was really into the game.
“Fuck’s sake, Leon! You’re a defender! You should play in the back!” He shouted profanities to his team mates, cheering them on. 
When Niall saw that Leon didn’t comply, he nudged another player next to him and said something in his ear with a scowl on his face. It made me grin lightly in my seat, him being so serious. I liked watching them already. 
“Come on!” He yelled again, standing up in his seat, “Run Louis! Go after…” 
I was looking at Niall with a smile on my face. I also saw how his face turned into a grimace and his hands went to cover his mouth. “Oooh,” 
I looked at the field, panicked. Niall nudged me, tapping his hands on my arm. I saw that Louis had fallen to the ground, his arms holding his leg up now, groaning in pain. It was probably his ankle. I didn’t know what to do at first, shocked that something had actually happened. I looked at Niall, who was already looking at me, nudging his head towards the field. “Go!”
I jumped from my seat, wanting to run straight to the victim. I saw the referee signing for me, which made me run onto the field even more desperately. After a couple of seconds of running, I realised I had forgotten my bag. Fuck. Seriously? Groaning to myself in embarrassment, I quickly grabbed my supplies and ran a little quicker to the boy who was lying on the field in pain. 
“Hey,” I said as I approached him, a little out of breath from running so quickly. 
He didn’t look at me, just kept touching his ankle. It made me frown, it was probably really bad. He was crying out in pain, and some teammates and opponents had gathered around him to see what happened. In the meantime I had wet the sponge in the bag that the coach had brought with him, stretching Louis’ leg. He didn’t really want to, resisting to want to move it. 
“Don’t worry, it’ll be alright.” 
As I was wetting his ankle to cool it down over his shoes, I tried to look if it was bruised or if it had swollen up. None so far that I could see, so that was a good sign. I stretched his leg a bit to keep it moving, but with his socks on, I couldn’t see if there were any wounds or cuts. I tried to sit him upright, but he wasn’t having it. “Calm down,” He hissed, still holding his ankle. He sat upright now, finally looking who was taking care of him. When he saw it was me, he raised his eyebrows. 
“What’re ye doing here?”
I looked at him in shock, already not wanting to help him anymore. So much for running hurriedly over to him. I tried to not react to his degrading question, although it was hard. I continued to check out his foot, trying to place it straight down on the field. He placed his other food next to the injured one, and leaned on his knees with his elbows. The trainer gave Louis a bottle with water, which he gladly took. He took a large gulp, sitting there for a while. Was I overreacting or something? He seemed to be in a lot of pain, why was he now so calm and chilling?
I started grabbing my things, giving Louis one last look to see if he was okay. He seemed to be fine, being helped up by another team mate and testing to stand on it. 
I couldn’t believe this, he was groaning about his ankle no less than one minute ago! What an idiot. Letting me come all the way over here for nothing. As I was walking away frowned my eyebrows in confusion. If it was going to be like this the whole time, I was gone. Not gonna happen. I was here for a reason and the team mates should take that seriously. 
I looked back one last time to Louis who was now laughing with Brad, which resulted in me bumping into someone. His back was hard. He had drawn his head back so he could fill his mouth with water, causing me to also run into the back of this someone’s arms. 
“Fuck, sorry.” I exclaimed, “I shouldn’t..”
When he turned his head around and I saw who it was, I immediately shut my mouth and stared at him. I was frozen into my place for a moment, not knowing what to say. He turned around completely, a dimple showing on his face. I blushed. He was even more attractive up close.
“Don’t worry about it, babe.” He didn’t look angry or anything at all, he actually smiled, which made me feel a little bit better. I wanted to keep on walking to let me soak in my distress towards the situation that just occured, when Louis spoke up again from behind us, “So who’s the pretty girl who wears tight ass clothes to her job?” 
I heard him laugh quietly at his own remark, and he said it loud enough to let his mates in on it too. Instead of just ignoring him and walking on, I decided to turn around and shout after him, 
“Someone who can actually pull it off.”
His team mates ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed’ at my quick remark. I sighed. Harry was still looking at me. I saw his face turn into a frown, silently apologizing to me with his gaze. I shrugged at him. My comeback towards Louis made me feel good again. He’s the idiot.
When I turned around again, and actually began walking, I smiled quietly to myself, forgetting the situation. This was going to be an interesting job.
--
The whistle blew, announcing the end of the game. For a practice match, the game went surprisingly well. There weren't any more instances or fake ankle injuries, what I was glad about. Harry had scored the one and only goal, which made the team go home with a win. Even though the game was for practice, they were pretty happy about it.
"Okay boys! Bundle up," the coach announced as everyone was walking off the field. I was still standing by the dug-out, not really knowing if I had to say goodbye or when the next game was. I saw everyone rounding around the coach, listening in, just like I did.
"Great game, happy about this one. Leon, next time: please bring your shin pads, so you could actually play and I could see what condition you're in. I have made notes and I will be announcing who's playing this Saturday, before the real game." The team looked around at each other, gauging who played good tonight and who didn't. 
Apparently they used this match as a mock try-out, so the trainer and coach could see who were in shape and who weren't for the first big game on Saturday.
"Before you all go, I would like to introduce you to our new on scene doctor, who will be helping you if there's anything actually wrong." He glared at Louis when he said that last part, making him scowl.
I took a step forward, looking around the group. I saw that everyone was intensely looking at me, so I spoke up quickly, "Hi everyone, my name's Mattie and just like Patrick said, I'll be helping you guys out during the games."
"You'll help me out outside of the game, too?"
I ignored him, saw that Niall was once again encouraging me and disregarding his team mate who shouted that from the group, nodding his head for me to continue. I smiled a bit, and went on, "I'm studying to be a doctor, and I'm currently doing the bachelors for it, so yeah.."
Patrick, the coach, nodded at me and returned to the group, "For now, keep in shape boys and help each other out. I haven't decided anything yet so miracles can happen!"
The team shuffled away quietly, talking to each other. I tapped Patrick on his shoulder, "Sorry, coach, is there some place where I can put my bag so I don't have to bring it with me every time?" 
He nodded, gazing above me to where the boys were walking, "Of course Mattie, just a moment,” He took two fingers in his mouth and whistled loudly, making me try to cover my ears, “Captain!" he shouted, "Harry come here!" 
I turned around and saw that Harry was saying goodbye to his teammates, as he already heard his couch, before jogging over to us. He nodded at me, looking me up and down and placed his arms in his sides as a greeting and turned to Patrick, "What's up coach?" 
Patrick cleared his throat and looked at me, "Mattie here would like to put her bag in the dressing room so she won't have to take it with her," he started grabbing his keys from his pocket, "you can show her, yes?" 
Harry nodded, taking the keys from him. "No worries coach, I'll help her." 
The coach patted Harry in his shoulder, "Thank you, bring the keys to my office tomorrow. And work on your left foot!" 
Niall was waving goodbyes at me, so I quickly waved back, “Bye!” and turned towards Harry. 
With the team and Niall gone, it was just Harry and I. It was still dark, with only the lights from the field still on. Harry jiggled the keys in front of us, and winked at me, "I'll show ya," 
It wasn't that I was nervous or anything, but I hesitated for two seconds before strolling behind him. He was so cocky, with his kit still on and smirking all the time. I couldn't help but watch him while he was playing. He had a certain glow around him, an aura that just radiated confidence. He could probably pull everything off and he certainly could wrap everyone around his finger. 
"So you enjoyed the game, doc?" 
I cringed at the nickname, but decided to let it go this time, "I enjoyed watching it yeah," 
Nodding, he faced me, "You liked my goal?" 
He said it with a smirk and as if he knew I was watching him the whole time, which was true, but he didn't need to know that. 
"Actually, I really liked how Leon could outrun everyone on the field.." 
He stopped abruptly and turned around, in the middle of the path. Once he was fully in front of me, he leaned in, “I saw you watching me, you know.”
Because he stopped suddenly and leaned in immediately, I accidently took a step too much, almost bumping into him again. “Maybe I was watching Louis.”
He laughed, showing me his dimple as he looked to the side. “I know you weren’t, that douchebag really doesn’t know how to play it.”
I nodded my head, and rolled my eyes as if he was stating the obvious. “That’s right.” 
I began walking again, not really knowing where to, but at least in the same direction we were already going. Harry followed me soon after, jumping into step with me. I already saw the building coming closer, which made me think of something. “Why aren’t you all showering in the dressing room after a game?”
He bumped his shoulder with mine, which made me notice the height difference we had. He was a lot taller than me, my eyes looking straight at his collarbones when I turned to look at him. 
I looked up at him, raising my eyebrows in question. 
“You would like to see that, huh?” He stated, smiling shyly at me.
I groaned, “Harryy..”
“Already moaning my name, I see.” 
This time it was me that bumped my shoulder with him, making him laugh in response. “I was just joking, love.” 
When we fell into step once more, he looked ahead and started explaining my question to me, “No we’re not there because it was a practise game and obviously we want to go home fast so we can go to the party later, so we just decided to shower at home.”
I nodded my head, kneading my eyebrows in confusion. There was a party tonight? I haven’t heard anything about that. I quite liked going to parties. Normally my friend Niamh made sure we could get invites so we could go together, but not tonight apparently. It was a Wednesday after all, so maybe she just wanted to stay in tonight. “A party?” I asked Harry. 
He nodded, “Yeah it’s like a frat party only, I would have gotten you an invite but I didn’t really know you before this, soo..”
I laughed, grinning to myself. Harry was really nice. At least, nothing like I had pictured him to be in my head. I didn’t like to judge people before I knew them, but with Harry that was kind of inevitable. Also, I couldn’t exactly invite myself now since he said he didn’t know me but I already knew him. I was not going to make a fool of myself, obviously. So I just shrugged.
“Don’t worry about it.”
We had reached the building where the shower rooms were. We walked quite slow, and it was already quite late so it was kind of eerie here. No lights, the doors were all left open and there were no people to be seen. 
“So these are our shower rooms,” Harry started as we walked into the building after he unlocked it, “We normally take the first one, so you can just put your stuff in there.”
The dressing room was big and spacious. Everyone had a seat, there was a whiteboard in there and the showers were in a separate room. The closet that stood against the wall next to the showers, held all the equipment. “There,” Harry said, as he took my bag and placed my stuff in, “A special place for you.”
As he placed my stuff in the closet, I could finally see how he’d looked up close. He still had his short sleeved football shirt on, revealing his tattoos on his arms. For a guy that was still in college, he sure had a lot of them. Not that I minded. 
“Thank you Harry,” I smiled at him, at which he winked in return when he faced me again. Gosh, I could almost feel myself getting red. I was acting like a schoolgirl, I needed to step up my game. “I’ll remember this place,” I said, as I looked at the showers. I could almost imagine all the naked boys right here. 
I smirked, glancing at the shower himself, “I’m sure you will.”
After making sure everything was locked and closed, we started to walk back to the parking lot.  I was sure Harry was also with his car, considering campus was at least a twenty minute walk. Right as we reached our cars and I wanted to say goodbye, he faced me again and leaned on his already open door, “You know what, Mattie?”
I looked up from the inside of my car towards him, giving him a questioning look. “What?”
“You free Saturday?”
He said it so casually that I wasn’t sure how to respond. He wasn’t asking me out on a date was he? I mean, I was attracted to the guy but I barely knew him! And it wasn’t like I wanted to go out with him, really. But I did want to see him. With hesitation evident in my voice, I answered him, “Yeah, why?”
He saw my facial expression and laughed a bit, “To take you up on my offer. We’re having a party again at our house, so if you’d like to come?”
I almost sighed in relief, “Yeah, I’d like that, thank you Harry.” 
He shot a quick wink at me as he started to climb in his car, “No worries!” As a last afterthought, right as I wanted to shut my door, I heard him shout, “And bring your friends!”
--
My friend Niamh was present at the game this time, too. We were here a little early, so we could catch up on our week and talk about everything that had happened to us. She was a friend from years ago, almost from when we were kids, so she knew everything about me. Unfortunately, she didn’t want to be a doctor and had chosen to go pursue her dancing career. She was really good at it, too. She was asked to dance in videoclips and she often performed on stage with singers or bands. It was her job now, one she always wanted. It made me proud of her, because she actually went for it, and ignored her parent’s complaints about it. She had proved them and their comments about how she was never going to make it, wrong. 
We sat in the canteen, which was still fairly quiet. The game would start at two, and it was now one thirty. I had only been to a professional game once, and then I arrived at two on the dot and I didn’t even look if there were many people there. The only time I’d been here was when I met up with the trainer to see if this was the right place for me to take my extra credits. I could choose to work in an elderly home, or at the swimming pool, but I had decided that this would be more fun for me. I didn’t mind watching 22 boys running after a ball for two hours back to back, particularly. 
Niamh had ordered a coffee whereas I preferred cold drinks over hot drinks, so I just stuck with some soda. “So how has your week been, Matts?” She said as she took a sip of her drink. 
I smiled at her, excited to tell her she would be having something to do tonight, “Actually, I need to invite you to something.”
Her eyebrows perked up, and she placed the drink on the table, “To where?”
I grinned, “Harry Styles asked me if I wanted to come to this party at his house tonight, and said I could bring some friends.” 
“No way!” She exclaimed gasping, “Harry Styles from the team?” 
I nodded happily back at her, “That’s the one.”
She already started to grab her phone, so she could text our friends, I presumed. “When did he ask you this? I didn’t even know you talked to him!”
After I placed my drink down from taking a sip of it myself, I shrugged casually at her. “Well, I had to help at that game you know,” I said as she nodded at me, “And right after he had to show me where I could put my stuff and started talking about this party he had this Wednesday----”
“Oh yes!” She interrupted me with wide eyes, “So that’s the party Emily talked about! She said she had fucked the captain of the team, and that he was quite good. That’s Harry right?” 
I paused, opening my mouth in surprise. “What? Yeah he is the captain.” 
“That’s so sick! I have to text Emily about this party tonight then,” She said, grinning excitedly at me and putting her phone down to look at me again. “Anyway, go on, I’m listening.”
I coughed, choosing to ignore this disappointing bit of information, “Yeah so he told me about that party and that he couldn’t invite me then, which is a bit weird if I think about it now, but anyways, he invited me for tonight and said I could bring some friends.” I forced a smile on my face as I finished my story and looked at her. 
She copied my smile, “That’s great! Maybe I can finally meet Niall and get to know him better, if you know what I mean,” She said as she wiggled her eyebrows. 
I laughed, genuinely excited for her. “I hope you will!” 
After I had finished my drink, I announced to Niamh that I had to leave if I wanted to be at the dug-outs on time. She wished me well, and said that she would see me tonight. After I hugged her and said goodbye to her and the bartender who had served us, I walked out of the canteen towards the shower rooms. 
I needed to grab my bag if I wanted to be helping players today. Today they had to play against a popular college not far away from where we’re from, so it was kind of exciting to be able to see that. The coach had probably announced who would be playing and who wouldn’t for today, which made the pressure on the players to play well a tad bit higher. I knew that obviously Harry and Louis would be playing, along with our goalie Liam, but the rest of the team was still unsure. For me it would be kind of fun if Niall was still benched, just for entertainment, but he would rather be on the field, I’m sure. Hopefully his knee was doing better.
I had reached the shower rooms and discovered that the door was still open, allowing me to walk right in the building. I knew Harry said it was the first one when we dropped my bag off, so without hesitation I whipped open the door. Right as I did that, I heard commotion and deep yelling from from the inside, causing me to rapidly close the door again. Shit. How the fuck was I supposed to know they were still here, they were just warming up outside!
Bowing my head in embarrassment, I quickly walked out of the building. I would just grab my bag when they were out so I didn’t have to walk in with all of them staring at me. I waited outside, leaning against the wall and just staring ahead at the field they would be playing on. They were taking their sweet time. Probably just discussing the match quickly just before the game started, but to me it felt like ages.  
The other team was walking towards the field in a pack, and the referee started to walk towards this building, probably to let our team know the game was about to start. I actually felt nerves bubbling in my stomach, with everything being so serious in comparison to the last game. There were a lot of supporters walking towards the bleachers, too. 
I was just staring at the field again when the door opened and everyone on the team started to walk out. First it was the coach and trainer, who nodded in greeting. The coach was needed here too, apparently. I saw that Niall walked in the front with his jacket still on, so that meant he was benched again. When he walked by me, he ruffled my hair. “Hey Matts!” 
“Hey!” I shouted after him, “I’m here to help you, you know!”
He turned around and laughed loudly, pointing at his knee, “Not me!’
At that, I didn’t have anything back to say knowing he was benched again, so I just shook my head. 
“Is he messing with you?” 
I heard Harry’s voice before I saw him, making me look up towards him. He was walking at the back of the team’s row to get out of the building with a smile on his face, standing out from everyone else walking before him.  
When he reached me, he stopped and raised his eyebrows, awaiting my answer. “No it’s just Niall,” I told him, shrugging my shoulders indifferently. 
“Right,” He smirked, “Well, I figured ‘t was you that tried to come in during our important speech, so I decided to grab your bag for you.” 
My heart swelled just a little bit at his kind gesture, having not expected this at all from him. Shit, you should never listen to rumours, huh? He proved once again that he could actually be kind.
“Wow, Harry! Thank you so much. That’s so kind of you to do that!” I grabbed the bag from him and in a split second decided I wanted to hug him. I threw myself in his arms, catching him off guard for a second. My bag that I now carried in my hand whipped him in his back, causing him to groan in my shoulder. Hugging me back, he draped his arms slowly around me, positioning them right above my ass. 
When I loosened my arms around him, I nodded my head towards the field, “You should probably go,”
He nodded in confirmation, still standing in close proximity to me. “I do.”
I placed my hand on his shoulder blades, and wished him luck for the game, “Break a leg Harry, or don’t actually.”
He laughed at my comment, showing me his dimples. Before he walked away towards the field, he winked at me, “I’ll try not to.”
When I saw him run on the field and give his teammates one last cheer for good luck, I smirked to myself watching him. It was a good choice to wear my tight yoga pants again, at least. 
--
The game was very intense. Not like practise-match intense, but full on competition match intense. Louis luckily hadn’t faked any injuries yet, so that was a good sign. However, I had to run on the field in the first half for Liam, who had taken a good shot right in his eye. He fell to the ground, making me run on the field for him. When I got there, he was already sitting up and not at all groaning in pain like Louis had, making me smile a bit. At least Liam could handle something. I also discovered his injury wasn’t fake, because I could see a bruise forming immediately. I cooled it a little, but told him it would be better if he took some rest. He said that he’d be fine and would just tell me and the coach if he wanted to switch between the other goalkeeper and him. I was still a bit concerned, but he insisted. So I walked back with my supplies and some worries, hoping that it was really just a shot with the ball, and it wouldn’t turn out to be something worse. 
The score was 2-1 for our team, with just ten minutes to go when I came back from grabbing some more water. It was so tense, all the players were proper going for it. The bleachers were filled with supporters, all reacting to the match as if their life depended on it. When the opponents came near our goal, they would stand up and shout at our defenders. And when our team was striking and near the opponents goal, they would yell and scream for us to score. I was nervous too. I was on the edge of my seat, hoping that the score would stay the same. I was fiddling with the hem of my shirt to stop myself from standing up and screaming towards the players. 
We did have a good few people that came out to support us, yes. But our biggest supporter sat on the bench. He was biting his nails, screaming in frustration and cursing loudly whenever we missed a goal. 
“Fuck! Who in their goddamn mind would even pass like that!”, or “Holy shit! That was fucking close!” and my favourite: “Son of a… get that fucking ball in the goal you arseholes!”
Least to say, I was entertained for the match.  
Currently we had the ball on our side, passing each other the ball and walking forwards towards the goal. Once we had crossed the midfielders of the opponents, Zayn passed the ball towards Brad who then passed it on to Ben. Ben had a good shot, and could easily get the ball miles away. So when Louis sprinted towards the goal, Ben saw an opportunity to pass the ball onto him. He put the ball in front of him and shot the ball, right into Louis’ feet. I could see that Louis was looking for someone to help him out, because there were two defenders near the goal and he couldn’t pass them himself. Luckily Harry had seen it, and sprinted with him on the other side. He made sure he ran close to the goal but not to close, so he had the space to shoot the ball right in if he got it. He shouted for Louis to pass the ball onto him, and Louis immediately did. The ball was flying over the defenders, in a straight line towards Harry. Harry prepared for it, taking his foot back so he could place it right on it. He jumped, the ball almost near him, and kicked the ball--- 
Right before he could kick it, a defender sprung onto him making Harry fall right to the ground. “Nooooo!” Niall yelled loudly from beside me, “For fuck’s sake no!”
I heard everyone gasp from the audience, immediately voicing their worries from behind me. I panicked for a second, freezing in my spot. Shit! Harry just fell to the ground. He was laying there, in pain. I heard the coach shout my name, making me snap back to reality. Immediately I grabbed my bag, and ran towards him in a hurry. Shiiit. Why Harry? Others had gathered around him, so I couldn’t see how Harry was doing. Right as I arrived near him, I shouted for them to walk away. 
“Everyone! Leave!” 
My voice must have sounded really angry or intimidating, because everyone hurried away quickly. This way, I could finally see Harry. He was laying on the ground, on his back. He had his hands on his forehead, making me think there was something wrong with his head. Hopefully he didn’t have a concussion or something. The defender that had pushed him to the ground, was still looking at Harry. He was probably worried about what he’d done, but I didn’t care. 
“What are you doing? Leave!” 
He started saying that he was sorry, and that he could help, but I wasn’t having it. “I don’t care, leave before I force you.” 
He nodded, worry evident on his face. For a second I felt bad, but then I saw that Harry was still laying here, and then those thoughts escaped my mind right away. The defender walked away eventually, leaving me alone with Harry. I looked at him, seeing how he had one hand over his head, feeling for bruising. The moment I sat down next to him, he turned his head towards me. He opened his eyes, and smiled.
“Am I dreaming?” 
Relief washed over me immediately. At least he could still make jokes. I began sitting next to his head, wetting my sponge once again and placing it over his head. “You okay, Harry?” 
He nodded, his head in front of my knees on the ground. I looked at him from above, so that I could see how his body reacted when I would do certain things to see if he was okay. Right now I had my hands on his forehead with the sponge in between, “I’m fine actually, Mattie. I just wanted you to come save me.”
I rolled my eyes, not believing him. “No you didn’t.” 
He laughed, causing his chest to go up and down, “I did,” He smirked, his eyes shining as he looked at me. 
I shook my head in disbelief, staring at him smiling at me for a second. But then I remembered I could take revenge. He saw that I was wetting the sponge again, and began to sit up straight. “No you won’t!’
I began splashing him with water in revenge, making him soaking wet. I was laughing my ass off, seeing him so flustered and shocked at what I was doing. “Mattie! Shit, stop!”
I was aware that the rest of the team and the coach were still watching us, so I stopped splashing him, throwing the sponge in the water bag. I took a step towards his soaked body, pressing my lips together and looking him in the eye mischievously. “Next time you’ll play a joke on me like that, I’ll take you to the hospital so you’ll have to sit next to Niall for a month.”
He laughed loudly, throwing his head back. “Noted, doc, noted.” 
As I walked away smiling and the referee began gathering everyone together again, I heard him shout one more thing after me, “I’ll pay you back tonight Mattie! Watch out!”
I just shot my middle finger in the air, hearing him bark out another laugh in response. 
--
The party was in full swing when Niamh, Emily, Joey and I arrived. It was in Harry’s and his roommates’ house, one that I had never been in before, let alone seen how packed it could be. Everyone that was just a little bit known around campus, was there. I recognized some people from my class, and others I knew because they were popular around campus. 
When we arrived, the door was unlocked and you could just walk right in. That wasn’t unusual with the parties I went to, if we ever went to house parties. There was a pile of jackets formed, so we just threw ours over it. Joey and Emily claimed they knew some people and went off to speak to them, leaving me and Niamh alone at the party. 
“Let’s have a drink,” Niamh said to me over the loud music, “We need to get drunk to process this!”
I nodded in agreement, already taking her arm towards the kitchen. It was already quite busy, but we had come a little late. We didn’t want to be the first ones to arrive, as we didn’t know a lot of people here. All the drinks were placed on a table, leaving us with a lot of choice of what we wanted to drink tonight. I hadn’t realised before this that these college boys actually spend a lot of time planning these things. They had a lot to think about. And to be fair, they had done a good job at it.
We had appropriately dressed ourselves, luckily. Since we didn’t really know what to expect, we just went for black: Niamh wearing a tight dress with spaghetti straps and me wearing a skirt with a t-shirt. It was something you could never go wrong with.
I poured myself some alcohol, waiting for Niamh to do the same. Once we both had our drinks, we leaned against the table and started looking at people. This was our favourite activity to do. You saw some crazy people at parties, so we had a lot to think about. 
“Oh wow, there’s already people on the edge of drunkenness.” Niamh laughed, raising her eyebrows at a boy who had run straight towards the loo. “Jesus wept.”
“Shit,” I exclaimed, looking at a girl who had just came in with a gift in her hand, “It’s someone’s birthday? Did we need to bring a gift?”
She just shrugged her shoulders at me. “No fucking clue.” And resumed to look around the room. We had been sipping on our drinks lightly, just enjoying the music that was blasting loudly and how everyone was dancing and talking with each other.
“Look at that girl, she's going for it!” Niamh pointed out at me, looking at a girl that was standing in the middle of the room, dancing her ass off. I followed her gaze, seeing how the girl was dancing to the music, not caring about anyone it seemed like. I wish I could be like her. “She’s really good!”
Right as I wanted to respond to Niamh, I saw that Louis had walked in the door she was close to. I rolled my eyes and turned around, looking at the sink. 
“What’re you doing?” Niamh asked me incredulously, looking at me over her shoulder. 
“I don’t know,” I answered her, “He just annoys me.”
She came to stand beside me, searching for my eyes. “How? Last time we talked about him you said he was hot!”
I shrugged my shoulders again, “He’s just annoying.”
“Right.” She answered, turning around again and taking a sip of her drink. “If you want to fuck him just tell me. I could be your wing woman.”
I bumped my hips with hers, and turned around to look at the crowd again, “Never.” 
She laughed, standing up straight and finishing up her drink. “Okay then, just tell me why another time. I just saw Harry come in and you need to talk with him.” 
Immediately I felt my stomach go wild. Shit. My eyes began to search around the room, looking for his head of curls amongst the crowd. I found him talking with a friend of his from his team, who’s name I couldn’t remember. Harry looked extremely attractive tonight. Instead of the usual kit I saw him in, he wore all black. His black vans stood out with the other clothing he wore, black skinny jeans and a plain black t-shirt. Even with such a simple look, he made it seem like he wore a million dollars. As he was talking, his jawline moved with his mouth and it made me just weak in the knees. He was actually so hot, how hadn’t I fully appreciated this man before? 
It seemed like he was asking if his friend wanted a drink, because he leaned into him with his ear, nodded and started walking away towards the kitchen. Oh no, why had I been sitting in the kitchen, so obviously out in the open? He strode confidently towards the drinks, when in mid-walk he saw me sitting there. Niamh also recognised him and saw he was walking over here, so she made up an excuse to leave. “Just need the loo for a moment,” 
I couldn’t answer her, because Harry interrupted my thoughts. He was also smirking at me as he arrived right in front of me, only leaving a few inches in between us. I crossed my arms, looking up at him challengingly. 
“Hey doc,” he greeted, speaking in a raspy voice. He began to smile mischievously, making me wonder what he was going to say, “Or should I say, hero?”
I groaned out loud, hitting him in the chest with one hand, and shaking my head. It made him laugh, making his chest vibrate. I could almost feel the vibrations with how close we were. “Shut up,”
He was still chuckling a bit as if he were still thinking about it. Suddenly he stopped, and looked me right in the eyes. “Really though, that was really hot with how you fought everyone out of your way for me.”
I felt my face go warm and I tried to not to smile too much. “Thank you,” I said, straightening up a bit and raising my chin up at him, “But like hell that I fought everyone away.” 
He gasped, nudging me with his arms “Heyy, you did!” he said with a fake offense, frowning his eyebrows, “You were basically performing CPR on me with the way you acted!”
I laughed, making me lean into him a little bit and hide in his shoulder. When I brought myself back in front of him, I raised my eyebrows at him, “You would like me to give you a mouth to mouth performance, wouldn’t you?” 
My heart skipped a bit when he got all serious and looked me straight in the eye. “I would,” 
Our eye contact was intense, I could feel it in my stomach. He was so close to me, I could feel his breath on my face. I was almost certain that he could feel my heartbeat against his chest. We weren’t even touching completely, but it was beating so hard that I wouldn’t doubt it. I looked at his green eyes, to his plump and pink lips. They were a nice shape, and I felt the urge to just kiss them. I didn’t though, maybe he did this with every other girl he tried to get in his bed. 
I was proven right when he took my hand, “Come with me,” 
I tried to act confused, furrowing my eyebrows, “Where to?” 
He didn’t respond, just tugged on my hand and began leading the way. People weren’t even looking at us, they were dancing or drinking and talking. And even though I liked doing those things at parties, this thing that I thought Harry was planning to do with me, seemed much more fun. 
He made his way towards the door to go upstairs, avoiding bumping in with people or getting splashed by someone’s drink. Once we were on the way up he let go of my hand so we could walk better. There were only one or two people upstairs, making out with each other or searching for someone. Two doors were open out of the four, and Harry went into a closed one with me. 
He revealed his bedroom to me, which was completely dark apart from the moon that lit up the room a little bit. His room was mostly a dark blue, with a grey colour covering the one wall that wasn’t blue. His bed stood in the middle of the room with two bedside tables next to it. He had a desk and his sports bag that he had used still stood in his room, untouched. He didn’t have a desk, but a dresser was shoved against the wall. Once I did my onceover, I saw Harry standing in front of his bed, looking at me. 
He smiled, and began to walk over to me again, making me back into the door once he reached me completely. He stood closer than he did when we were in the kitchen, his pelvis against mine and his chest leaning against my body. “Hey,” He said again, even raspier this time. 
I looked up at him, examining his face, “Hey.”
He cleared his throat, and hesitated a bit, “Can I kiss you?”
I hesitated, “One thing.”
He raised his eyebrows, “Tell me you don’t fuck girls every week, otherwise I won’t be able to handle this.”
He took a step back, frowning, “Who told you that?”
Looking up at him, I felt myself growing more nervous, “Just hear that about you.”
He looked up at the ceiling, then back at me. “I promise you Mattie. I didn’t bring you here or invite you just to fuck you. I’d happily talk with you all night. You seem fun.”
I smiled, “And,” he continued, “my roommates are the ones who get laid every party. I do have sex yeah, but I promise you, I haven’t had sex since the first week of this semester.”
With the sincerity in his eyes, I believed him, “Okay, you can kiss me now.”
“Only if you want to.”
I looked into his eyes, “I really do.”
With one nod and another reassuring glance he was in the clear and we were done with being slow. He smacked his lips against mine, moving his arms from against the door to my body. Roaming his hand around my hips to my ass as he hungrily kissed me. I kissed him back, recuperating his movements. He squeezed my ass, making me gasp a little bit, giving him access to use his tongue in the kiss as well. I moved my arms from his shoulders to his neck, pushing him closer to me with my fingertips in his hair. Our tongues were wet and desperate, making the kiss hot and heavy. Once he had enough of just making out, he grabbed me by my thighs and lifted me up, turning me around towards the bed. 
I fell backwards onto his soft mattress, with Harry on top of me. My legs were around him in an instant, crossing my feet on his back. I still had my sneakers on and all my clothes, but not for long. Harry’s hand went from my ass to the hem of my shirt. I lifted my back for him, pausing in the kiss, to let him take my top off in one swift movement, leaving me in my bra. I didn’t wear my sexiest bra, but he didn’t seem to mind. His mouth went from the sweet spots on my neck towards my cleavage, leaving wet kisses on my body. He was already working on getting my bra off, pushing the straps off my shoulders. I sat upright for him, making him readjust his position to get closer to me. He was struggling with the clasp, so I unclasped my bra for him and threw it on the ground. He didn’t waste any time cupping my breasts, feeling them and leaning in my neck to leave some more spots, but I wasn’t having it. I pushed him away on his chest, making him stand on the ground again. He looked at me in confusion for a moment, until I stood up and pushed him on the bed. I bent my knees so I could reach his t-shirt, and he got the idea. Moving his arms up to let me take his shirt off, he gladly let me do it. 
His chest was revealed to me, just like mine was to him. This wasn’t enough, though. I crouched on my knees completely so I was level with his belly button, and began to unbutton his jeans. His bulge was evident in the tight material, so when I moved the zipper down I cupped him over his jeans and pants, making him groan in response. 
“Fuck, Mattie.” 
I just smiled at him, moving to tug at his jeans. He got the hint and thrust his hips up, so I could take his jeans off. Once they were off, he was just left in his boxers. I moved a little closer to him, so I was level with his bulge, making me look up at him with wide eyes. “Impressive,” I smirked. 
He wasn’t having it, and took his boxers off immediately, revealing his dick to me that sprung to his stomach. He must be proper into it, because I had never had a man be this turned on from just kissing. He threw his boxers onto the pile we had already made, and leaned on his arms so he could look at me properly. I took him in my hands, gliding my thumb over his tip. I looked at him for his consent, and he nodded at me eagerly. That was all I needed before I licked him on the tip. He responded loudly, groaning and moaning through the room. I never knew he was so loud in the bedroom. 
I licked him from his balls to the tip, and let him slip in my mouth to take all of him. He moved his hand in my hair, not pushing me, but finally having something he could do with his hands. 
I started bobbing my head up and down, all the while looking at him how he responded to me. His eyes were closed and his pink lips were voluminous and opened just slightly. 
I enjoyed giving blowjobs, especially if it was someone as responsive as Harry. He was groaning and moaning for me, letting me know how much he enjoyed it. “A-ah,” He cried once I hit him in the back of my throat. “Fuck,”
Kissing his tip, feeling his balls and sliding my tongue over his dick was making me wet as well. He still had one hand in my hair, the other going from my arms that were drawn over his upper thighs. My naked boobs rested on his naked legs, and my still clothed butt was stuck in the air. 
He slid his hand over my arm and went to my back, leaning over my head that was still bobbing over his cock. Once he could reach the hem of my skirt, he started moving the zipper. At least, trying to. 
I stopped sucking him off and let my mouth pop when his dick was out of my mouth, making him moan in annoyance. I quickly took my skirt and panties off and went back on my knees in front of him, when he was the one that stopped me this time. He grabbed my arms and basically threw me on the bed, covering my body immediately. Fuck, he was good. 
He started kissing me again, while I searched for his dick and began giving him a handjob. He cupped my breasts and squeezed them. I started leading his dick towards my entrance, giving him a hint of what I wanted. He backed away to look at me with wide eyes, paused for a bit and went to his dresser to get a condom. I watched him as he slid it on, and grabbed his shoulders as he started to position himself in front of me. Before he did, he looked at me once more. I nodded in approval, and he slid himself in me slowly. I could feel him filling me up immediately, making me throw my head back in bliss. “Fuck, Harry..”
“You like my dick, don’t you?” He said as he began thrusting into me. 
I could only nod in response, gasping as he looked at me, “Tell me,” he said as he thrusted into me hard once, “Tell me how you feel.”
His trust were getting harder with each second I wasn’t responding, because I could only moan in pleasure, “Fuck Harry,” I moaned, “I feel so good..”
He reacted with his hips. Thrusting into me rapidly, making my breasts go up and down and the bed creak against the wall. “I know, baby, I know.” 
“Holy shit, I do.” 
He started to kiss my neck, hungrily going for it as my legs crossed at his back once again. I was certain that the guests that were still here could hear us, but I didn’t give a shit. I wanted to everyone to know that he was fucking me, and not some other girl. 
“You’re so good baby, I knew it,” 
I started to roam his back with my arms, feeling his muscles move each time he thrusted. His dick was so long and hard that he hit the right spots inside of me each time. I could feel my head getting a little lighter, and my stomach filled with warmth. “I’m gonna cum, Harry, please,”
“Begging for it, see?” He cockily stated once he moved to look at me again, he even had a smirk on his face when he was fucking me. “Knew you would do me good,”
“Mhh, Harry, almost there,” 
“Me too, baby, me too.” 
He thrusted a couple more times before I could really feel it, my pleasure taking over me completely. I came hard, my legs trembling around him and my head thrown back. My orgasm made me cry out loud, and he was still going at it. 
He was coming too, I knew it. His thrust became harder before they slowed down, squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure. He groaned loudly when he came, looking beautiful while he did. His cheeks had gone slightly pink, making his lips stand out even more, and his hair was all dishevelled and damp with sweat. Once I felt that he filled the condom inside of me, he opened up his eyes and slid out of me. 
We both smiled at each other and started catching our breaths from out intensive activities, “Fuck, Mattie.” He laughed, pulling out of me completely and leaned on his arms to stand up. Once he cleaned up the condom, throwing it in the bin, he started walking back to the bed. He plopped on it, almost on top of me. “That was good.” 
I nodded in response, “Almost as good as Louis’ goals.” I smirked, hoping to get a reaction out of him with bullshit. 
He laughed, letting his head fall on the pillow, “Shut up.”
There we lay, both naked over the covers with our chest moving as we breathed, still hearing the thumping music from downstairs where the party was still going in full swing. 
“I told you,” He started, looking at me playfully, “I would get you wet later.” 
I groaned, but couldn’t help to let a laugh escape. I grabbed my pillow from underneath my head, saw how he was smiling to himself, and smacked him in the head with it. 
Payback, my arse.
------------------
Thank you for reading!! If you want more, let me know. This was my first real one shot and I’m working on other stuff as well. xxxxxxx
233 notes · View notes
kaitosimp · 3 years ago
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Once upon a time I posted some hc's I have for what Kaito does with his classmates when they hang out, but a few days ago I realized I never posted the hc's I have for him hanging out with the other students so here's part 2 🌠 It's the talent development plan mode all day everyday 🌟 This has been sitting in my drafts for days and it is very long so I'm sorry in advance 💀
☕ Byakuya (imposter) ☕
-They hang out in the dining hall, they chat over snacks and food per Byakuya's request
-Byakuya always asks Kaito to bake sweets like cookies or brownies
-They visit a lot of food places/restaurants
-Kaito knows it's a little odd to be friends with someone who literally imitates another student but he doesn't care
-They talk a lot about how different their lives are, and Kaito always tells Byakuya that he can trust him with his true self
🍴 Teruteru 🍴
-Teruteru always cooks dishes for Kaito to taste
-They go shopping for ingredients/food a lot
-Kaito helps him in the kitchen and Teruteru helps Kaito improve his cooking skills
-Since Kaito always goes stargazing with other people, Teruteru makes snacks and hot chocolate for them and joins in when he can
-Teruteru tries roping Kaito into peeking on the girls, but Kaito just talks about his passion for space so they end up talking about the universe
📸 Mahiru 📸
-Their friendship started when Mahiru randomly came up to him and asked to take a photo of him, Kaito is one of her favorite people to photograph cause of his smile
-They spend a lot of time walking around the academy talking and taking pictures
-Mahiru often takes photos of the moon and the night sky for Kaito
-She got him his own camera when Kaito expressed an interest in photography and taught him how to take photos properly
-They have a thing where they compete to see who took the best photo that day
⚔ Peko ⚔
-They alternate between regular training and kendo sparring a lot
-Kaito is able to make Peko smile, it usually happens when he goes to her with Gundham's devas or tells her cheesy animal jokes
-Peko taught him how to fight with a bamboo sword
-They trust each other a lot, like Kaito knows how she feels about Fuyuhiko and helps her sort through her feelings, and Peko can tell whenever he's feeling down and tries her best to cheer him up
-Their conversations are always about the universe, animals, and sword fighting
🎸 Ibuki 🎸
-They never stay still, when they hang out they'll be running around or playing instruments or playing games, they're super energetic together
-Ibuki taught Kaito how to play the guitar
-They like doing karaoke, she's literally the only person Kaito will sing around
-Ibuki writes songs about space for Kaito and sings them to him, it always makes Kaito happy
-They love listening to music together, whenever they go stargazing they'll bring a speaker outside to blast some music
👘 Hiyoko 👘
-At first Hiyoko thought he was an idiot and Kaito thought she was Kokichi 2.0, their friendship only started cause Mahiru wanted them to get along
-They act like siblings, they bicker a lot and call each other names but they care about the other, Kaito is lowkey protective of her and Hiyoko insults anyone who calls him an idiot cause only she can do that
-Kaito 100% supports/cheers on her dancing, he goes to all her performances with Mahiru
-Kaito gives her a lot of piggy back rides
-Hiyoko likes hearing about the stars and Kaito likes watching her dance practices, they also spend their time eating candy and squishing ants (sorry Gonta he tried but couldn't convince her to leave the ants alone)
🩹 Mikan 🩹
-It took a while for Kaito to get her to understand he truly wanted to be around her
-Kaito always visits her at the nurse's office and helps with whatever she needs
-They have positive talks everyday, Kaito helps lift her self esteem/confidence and always tells her positive things about herself
-Mikan always teaches him new medical things and Kaito teaches her random space facts
-He often makes sure nobody's bothering her or doing anything that could upset her, he knows it'll be a while before Mikan can stand up for herself so he does it for her in the meantime
🏆 Nekomaru 🏆
-They are so l o u d and boisterous and rowdy when they hang out
-A good 95% of their conversations are just them constantly motivating each other on
-They spend most of their time outside in the field playing sports or sparring
-They jog together in the mornings before class
-Nekomaru brings Kaito with him to his teams' sport matches a lot, Kaito always joins him in cheering the players on
🐹 Gundham 🐹
-They bond over animals, Kaito helps Gundham tend to them and he loves playing with the dogs
-Thanks to how much Kaito talks about the universe, Gundham started naming the newborn animals after space things
-Kaito loves playing with Gundham's devas
-Gundham tries to teach him spells and curses, Kaito doesn't have a single magical bone in his body but he still tries
-They like to wander around the city looking for stray animals to feed and take care of
☁️ Nagito ☁️
-It took forever for them to be friends cause Nagito kept talking about Kaito being an amazing beacon of hope while Kaito just wanted to hang out with the guy normally
-Nagito greatly admires Kaito, he always compliments him
-They mostly hang out in Kaito's lab, Nagito really likes listening to Kaito talk about space
-Kaito tries to change Nagito's negative views of himself, it always ends with them going back and forth about how great the other is
-If Kaito's with him when his unlucky situations happen, he always helps Nagito out of them (he lost track of all the times they almost got into hostage situations)
🕹 Chiaki 🕹
-Video games and chilling all day everyday
-They meet up to play games and to talk in their labs, Chiaki always falls asleep so Kaito keeps pillows and blankets in his lab for her naps
-When they hang out outside, they usually grab a bite to eat, walk around the school, and end up cloud watching or stargazing
-Chiaki falls alseep on him a lot so Kaito is always seen carrying her/holding her up
-Chiaki started playing more space related games to make Kaito happy, some of them were sci-fi horror which had the opposite effect but Kaito appreciated the thought still
🍖 Akane 🍖
-They always go to the dining hall to chat and eat, they often meet up with Byakuya and Teruteru there
-They have competitions to see who can eat the most meat
-They like going to the gym to spar, Akane sometimes teaches him gymnastics/parkour moves
-On the weekends, they go to Kaito's favorite space exhibits and Akane's favorite restaurants
-Kaito goes to her gymnastics competitions with Nekomaru to cheer her on
👑 Sonia 👑
-They love watching documentaries and movies, it's always a mix of occult/scientific/murder/space-y stuff
-They go to the library a lot, they have a tradition of picking books for the other to read
-Sonia loves hearing about Kaito's epic adventures and all the space info he knows
-They always make plans for Kaito to visit her home country
-They hang out outside of school a lot since Sonia loves visiting new places
☠ Fuyuhiko ☠
-Kaito always asked Fuyuhiko to hang out and was never intimidated by his attitude or threats so Fuyuhiko just gave up and let the friendship happen
-They like to climb trees, they make competitions of who can climb them faster
-Kaito invites Fuyuhiko to come along with him to his beach trips, they always sunbathe/tan
-Kaito makes fried dough cookies and other sweets for Fuyuhiko (Fuyuhiko really appreciates it/thinks Kaito's awesome for it but he never says that out loud)
-Fuyuhiko became interested in space thanks to Kaito and often asks stuff about it
🔩 Kazuichi 🔩
-They always hang out in Kaito's lab cause Kazuichi is in love with the spaceship simulator in there
-They talk a lot about rocket ships
-Kaito has already decided he wants Kazuichi to build the rocket ship that'll take him to space, Kazuichi is happy to fufill that request
-Kazuichi likes building stuff for Kaito, Kaito's favorite thing has to be the spaceman alarm clock he keeps on his nightstand
-They like to read magazines/mangas, watch action movies, and tinker with machines
💫 Hajime 💫
-Kaito always tries to make Hajime feel included since he isn't an ultimate
-They do all sorts of things around the school like watch movies, play basketball, eat lunch together, read, etc
-Kaito often convinces him to sneak out of the reserve course dormitory at night to stargaze
-Kaito made Hajime a sidekick an hour into being friends and Hajime has since joined the nightly training
-They like going on walks to just talk freely about whatever comes to mind
57 notes · View notes
cloverque · 4 years ago
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monochrome (miya atsumu)
黑白 (宮 侑)
your life is like the black and white panels in a manga, until a certain someone dyed his vivid colours into yours
5190 words
past highschool, present post timeskip, nostalgic themes(?), tiny enemies to lovers trope, theme revolves around unconfessed love until years later
a reuploded request from an anon-then-now-my-friend! <3 not edited
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Monochrome. Your life was like the black and white pages in a manga; dull and neutral. There was nothing special about you, for the most part, you were ordinary.
At some point, almost every girl would like a colourful romance. One with blooming roses, scintillating sparkles and handsome young men. Topped off with promises of abiding love and vibrant days filled with never ending mirth.
However, you never pursued it, nor did it find you, and that was alright. Besides, what was the point of heart throbbing ardour if it were all to come to an inevitable end?
With a few clicks, your computer was turned off. You began clearing your desk, sorting out your folders and files when your colleague spun around in their chair.
“Hey, (l/n)-san. Did you hear?” The mousey woman enquired. A small smile was etched across her makeup coated face as she continued. “There’s going to be a dinner function! It’ll be held in the fancy hotel across the building.”
Your coworker across your table stood up to peer pass the desk divider. She chimed in with avidity, “I’m soooo going tonight! I heard the other divisions has a ton of hotties. No way in hell I’m gonna turn down a chance to meet ‘em!”
“Geez, you’re always thinking about men...” The lady beside you sighed, before returning her gaze back to you. “So, wanna go together?”
You shook your head, “Count me out. I already have plans tonight.” As you got up and shifted your handbag, you smiled apologetically. “Let me know if anything interesting happens, though.”
“Oh, okay... See you tomorrow,” she bid you farewell, albeit disappointedly. You nodded and bid the duo the same.
When your back was turned to them, the lady across the divider whispered to the one beside you. You knew what they were prattling about: that you were plain and boring. Wordlessly, you left the room, your heels clacking against the tiles as you made your way to the elevator.
As the double digits on the digital screen changed to singular ones, you closed your eyes.
Truthfully, it would be a lie to say that your life was completely monochrome. It was once colourful, after all, despite being for a short period.
Those days had involved a boy named Miya Atsumu, and he was the one who had brought colour into your high school days.
It all began in a manga shop.
You were in your second year of high school then, and would frequent a manga shop on the way home. It was sandwiched between a decently sized Lawson and an antique shop, on a quieter side of town.
The shop was abundant with not only manga, but also multifarious classics and second hand books. With its reserved location, not many knew of its existence, thus it went unnoticed by hordes of rambunctious manga fanatics.
It was perfect for you; your little safe place. However, you didn’t know that it was also frequented by a particular faux blonde.
You had wandered in with a specific title in mind, looking forward to getting your hands on it the whole day. Meanwhile, the boy’s brain was so preoccupied with volleyball and upcoming matches that he didn’t notice you, in an identical school uniform, lingering in the same section.
And like a sick cliche, your fingers bumped into his.
Withdrawing your hand, you snuck a side glance, only to see a broad chest in your line of sight. You slowly tilted your head to meet his steely gaze. Flinching, you practically whipped around when you realised the boy was towering over you.
“Um, sorry...” You mumbled out whilst backing away.
Atsumu’s brows were scrunched together as he took in your form. He half expected you to latch onto him with your eyes, but you were looking away, at anywhere but him.
Maybe once you got a good look at him, you’d react like all the oestrogen in his life. Squealing his name, asking for his number, all thirsty for his attention.
However, all you did was stand awkwardly, without uttering a single word. The oddity took him aback slightly. Thus, he decided to play with you a bit.
The teen perked his brows slightly before pointing at the manga’s spine. “Don’t cha want this?” He gestured, making you nod. A cruel smirk sneaked up to his handsome face.
You thought he was going to pass it to you. Instead, he slipped it out of the shelf and sauntered away. He slapped a few notes onto the cashier’s counter, making the store owner jump at his boldness. The boy with the undercut swiftly shuffled towards the entrance, his book bag slung over his back with the manga dangling from his long fingers.
Gawking, you watched as the automatic sliding doors opened for him. You wanted to call him back, to demand him to return it to you. But you knew it was impossible. The manga wasn’t yours, after all.
The blonde cocked his back to catch a glimpse of you. Noticing your conflicted expression, a mischievous grin spread across his face. He stuck out his tongue at you, cackling as your eyes widened and your face flushed. Then he left as soon as he came.
Your entire body trembled with embarrassment and humiliation. What just happened...!?
To make your day worst, you later learnt that the manga was the last one in stock. The rest of your day was spent stabbing your food and antagonising your pillow.
The next day, you found him again in the manga shop, but with grey hair. You almost dropped your book bag as you stomped towards him, fuming and ready to pounce on him.
The ash grey haired teen glanced at you with a deadpanned expression as you stopped beside him, shaking with infuriation.
“How could you do that to me yesterday!? You took the last one! The! Last! One!” Your nostrils flared as you exhaled. “Now I have no wait an entire week– And why’s your hair grey now–!?”
Despite your confrontation, the boy remained unfazed as he cocked a dark brow. It took him a few seconds to realise. He glanced up at the ceiling then back at you.
“Sorry, I think you’re mistaken,” he began politely, maintaining a neutral expression. “But the person you’re talking about is probably my obnoxious twin.”
This encounter had ended with a deep bow and a deluge of apologies. Nodding, the more reserved twin gave you a cold ‘ok’ before ambling away.
Since then, you realised that there were two twins in your school: the Miya brothers. The asshole was Atsumu, and the quieter one was Osamu. Or at least, they had seemed that way to you, on account of your personal experiences.
You wondered how you had never noticed them until now, especially when they stood out during assemblies due to their dyed hair. Not to mention their questionable popularity with the girls.
Maybe Osamu was reasonable, but who in the right mind would fall for someone like that blonde jackass Atsumu!?
On one occasion, you were shuffling past the gymnasium for a nurse’s errand when you saw a glimpse of the volleyball club. Bright blonde hair swished past the doors, and you remembered your meeting with the haughty male.
“Nice kill!” A deep voice hollered, followed by the high pitched squeaks of shoes against polished floor. You peeked past the doors, eyes shining with curiosity, when the twins you had met suddenly jumped into the air.
Your eyes were set on Atsumu as he deftly set a volleyball for his brother, who spiked the ball without delay. Sweat glimmered down the faux blonde’s forehead, tracing his jawline before dripping onto the floor. The slap he gave Osamu’s hand reverberated in the gym as they shared matching grins.
Seeing them together really highlighted the fact that they were carbon copies of each other. Your train of thoughts were derailed when a member with dark hair and narrowed eyes pointed in your direction.
Atsumu glanced at you, his smile turned upside down whilst you jolted up. With confident strides, he was in your face in an instant. He gave you a once over before grimacing.
“Get lost.”
Then he slammed the door shut in your face. As you stood frozen in place, unable to register what had happened, Osamu pressed his lips together in a thin line.
“‘Tsumu, that’s no way to treat a lady.”
His golden haired twin simply snorted in response.
Your next encounter with Atsumu took place at the manga shop again. A fight had broken out between the two of you, both unwilling to relent. Gripping the limited edition copy tightly in your hand, you refused to budge.
There were extras, but you had arrived first before the haughty boy and both of you had touched the same copy. Consequently, warring with each other.
Both of you shared exasperated expressions, tugging and pulling desperately for the manga. Neither wanted to throw in the towel. Atsumu was much stronger than you, clearly, his biceps flexing as he clenched his teeth and tried to pry the book from you.
Meanwhile, your two feet were planted firmly in the ground, all your strength poured into rooting yourself into the tiles or risk falling backwards if he were to let go.
However, he would not in a long time.
“Let go, you brat!” He chided, grunting with exasperation. Tugging it back harshly, you almost stumbled.
Growling animalistically, you retorted, “Never!” Then you lunged forward to bite his hand.
The blonde released the manga with a yelp, shoving your face off his hand brutishly. You stumbled back in response, tripping and landing on your bum. A string of saliva dribbled down your lips as you stared up at him, grinning victoriously.
Atsumu glowered, holding his bitten fist with his other hand. A row of teeth had punctured his skin, and you realised there was a little blood. “What the hell is wrong with you!?”
As you stood up and brushed your school skirt, you adjusted your book bag and gripped the manga to your chest. Trembling with anger, you were giddy with pride and sheepishness.
“You slammed a door in my face, asshole!”
Then you rushed past him to pay for your purchase. Atsumu turned to watch you leave, your loafers tapping against the floor softly as you ran off. But when you hopped out of the outlet, you gave him a side glance and stuck out your tongue.
Atsumu recognised the gesture; he pointed a middle finger in return.
Days and weeks went by like that, with Atsumu and you contending against each other to buy the weekly Jump, the first copies of mangas or limited edition prints. It was childish, for two seventeen year olds to tousle with each other.
Atsumu would ruthlessly tug on your hair, screaming bloody murder of your existence and stubbornness. Meanwhile, you resorted to calling him all sorts of colourful words, which would result in the shop owner throwing the two of you out. There was even a time when you both were banned from stepping in until you made up.
It happened eventually, and the two of you would at least communicate with less insults and more civilly. Your peace treaty with him didn’t mean letting him snag first copies of new arrivals, though. But Atsumu and you settled it through more human means, instead of ripping out each other’s hair.
There was one moment in which Atsumu had made your heart beat a little faster, too. It had happened like this: you were found beside the school’s vending machine, crying because you had dropped your shoujo manga in a muddy puddle. It would never have happened if it weren’t for a group of girls that bumped into you on purpose.
Your emotional breakdown ended when Atsumu found you in that pitiful state, squatting by a murky ditch with a floating black and white book. He had stumbled upon you by coincidence, as he was buying a Pocari Sweat.
He recognised your (h/c) locks and your figure even from afar, and when he realised you were crying, he was stumped. Sure, you would cry when he tugged at your hair during fights, but for him to see your tear stained face outside arguments felt weird.
Atsumu remained silent, standing near you as you sniffled. You knew he was standing behind you, you could tell him from the hairdo in the shadow looming over you.
Instead of asking what had happened, his eyes scanned the scene and realised that a limited edition manga was floating in the dark brown puddle. Probably yours, he had thought. He connected the dots instantly. Atsumu may be childish at times, but he wasn’t an imbecile.
The blonde setter knew how much you loved your manga, how brightly you would beam whenever you got your hands on them. For you to ruin it must have felt like a heartbreak, or worse.
“Was that the one we bought two days ago?” He mumbled, and you nodded meekly.
With a soft sigh, he approached the vending machine. After slotting his coins in and pressing a button, a drink dropped to the bottom. He bent down to scoop it out, mumbling as he did so.
“You can borrow mine, if ya want.”
At that moment, your mind went blank. This immature boy was going to lend you his? It wouldn’t be such a big deal if this was anyone else, but this was Miya Atsumu you were talking about.
An insolent big shot who refused to let you win. Someone whose mental age degraded when he fumbled with words to support why he deserved to get the first copy. A selfish guy who never wanted to share.
You glanced up at the teen silently, tears still streaming down your face. He flinched as you croaked, “Miya-kun... Are you sick or something?”
“...Never mind. I think I’ll retract my offer!” He huffed, spinning on his heels as he shuffled away.
Scrambling to your feet, you blurted out, “W-Wait! I was joking, I swear!”
You chased after him, and although he couldn’t hear it, you wished Atsumu wouldn’t be able to hear your heart pounding in your chest.
Inevitably, the blonde twin and you grew closer. Sometimes, you would walk with him to school, though it was more like you were third wheeling with him and his brother. The two of them would converse about volleyball, homework, and even little things like bentos and nonsensical topics.
You grew used to their frivolous antics, and Osamu eventually opened up to you as well. The two of them even let you call them by their first names, especially since referring to both of them as ‘Miya’ was confusing.
Atsumu only learnt of your name when you both exchanged it, and when you told him he could call you by your first name, he chaffed you for the overfamiliarity.
There were days when the blonde and you would visit the manga store together. And in time to come, the teenager grew fond of your ebullient nature towards comics. He would poke fun of you for reading ‘unfeminine’ genres, such as horror and sci-fi. Whenever he found you peeking at boy love books, you never heard the end of it.
At the same time, you began to appreciate him, despite his snide remarks and snarky attitude. There were times when his jokes crossed the line you, making you pout and sometimes cry, but he would apologise through his actions, like gifting you the new arrival of your favourite manga.
It was almost impossible to get him to apologise, due to his pride, but he always made up with you in his own way. And for that, you were grateful.
As months passed and you both became close friends, Atsumu began hanging out with you during school hours. On one occasion, the both of you hid in the rooftop to eat lunch. Osamu wasn’t present due to a cold, so it was just the two of you.
Picking up an octopus shaped wiener, you gave it a half hearted glance before popping it into your mouth. Atsumu was rambling about morning practice, blathering on how pissed he was that his brother wasn’t around to spike his perfect sets.
Suddenly, without thinking, you interrupted. “You know, you’re not a bad guy, Atsumu.”
Your eyes were fixated on his when you blurted out. His cheeks were stuffed with rice as he turned to you, surprised. With a perked brow, he gawked at you like you had grown a second head.
“Wait, are you falling for me already, (y/n)?” His deep, buttery voice was muffled by the contents in his mouth.
You grinned and waggled your brows. “No way, your personality is like sewage water.”
With a giggle, you leaned in to take away the small grain lingering by his lips. Your soft knuckles brushed against the corners of his lips and he swore he had stopped breathing.
Atsumu’s cheeks were dusted pink at your kind yet intimate gesture. Nobody had done that to him before, and he was unsure of what to feel.
Taking notice of his sudden silence, you raised your brows. “Atsumu, are you okay?”
“Haaaah–?! What are you talking about, I’m perfectly fine!” He scrunched his brows together, wrinkling his nose in disgust. Then he turned away, his back facing you as he scarfed down the remains of his lunch.
You tilted your head, unsure of what had happened, but resumed eating too. Truthfully, he was a little abashed. Ever since then, his heart would beat a little faster for you too.
Atsumu’s presence in your previously dull life meant new found colours. Days went by in a blur, with jokes, nonsense and memorable memories. He had snuck into your life when you least expected it, and so did you in his.
You began watching the volleyball team‘s matches. Sitting in the back row, you would cheer for Atsumu in your own special way: inwardly.
You didn’t understand much about the game, but you knew that your blonde friend loved it more than anything else, even his manga. So it must have meant something strongly to him, and as a friend, you had to support him.
The game was moving quickly, a bit too quickly for your taste. You didn’t comprehend what was happening, but at least Inarizaki was winning. The intimidating black screen beside the court flashed with a new digit, eliciting an eruption of cheers from the cheer squad.
“Isn’t he cute? He’s kinda dreamy,” a girl in front of you sighed to her friend, and you perked up instantly. Unconsciously, you began eavesdropping. “I wonder if Atsumu-kun has a girlfriend...”
“Are you kidding? Men that hot are either gay or taken!” Her peer bubbled with conceited giggles.
You wrinkled your nose at the insensitive response, but you mulled over her words. You had never seen Atsumu with a girl before. However, there were instances when you stumbled upon him during a confession. You would hide in a bush or behind a wall, listening curiously as the girl rambled on about how much she loved or admired him.
Without fail, his words would be laced with distaste while turning them down. Usually with harsh responses like ‘you don’t even know me’ or ‘I betcha say that to every guy’. He would even go as far as ripping a love letter to shreds.
They were total knock outs to the girls’ feelings. And as they ran away in tears, you couldn’t help but feel devastated for them. Atsumu sure was a prick at times.
“Him? Having a girlfriend? Never in a million years,” you mumbled under your breath.
Strangely, your chest had tightened a little with the thought.
The game finished shortly and the volleyball team gathered together to thank the watching spectators. Atsumu’s eyes bore holes into the black banner hung over the wall when suddenly, he glanced in your direction.
You flinched under his discerning gaze, stiffening nervously. He didn’t know that you were here until now.
His eyes narrowed a bit before a smirk settled on his sweat stained face. Your face burned, a little too hotly for your liking, and you looked down at your shoes to hide it. Why was he staring at you like that?
The girls in front of your row squealed that he was looking in their direction, but when they called out to him, he looked away. His cold attitude almost made you snigger.
Now that the match was over, you decided it was time to head home. You were ready to descend a flight of stairs when a familiar voice called your name. Spinning around, you came face to face with the handsome blonde, who was wearing a shit-eating grin.
“Didn’t know you came,” he breathed, arms akimbo as you cocked your head.
“Yeah, I wanted to cheer for Osamu.” You gave him a cheeky, lidded eye smile. An irk mark formed on his temple as he chopped your head with his hand.
The two of you went off after that: you teasing him on his missed serve and how his brother had to pick up his slack. Atsumu bared his fangs and fired empty threats and curses, all the while you pulled your bottom eyelid and blew a raspberry mockingly.
A dark haired teen in a jersey with the number ten stood idly by his teammates. Leaning on a railing, he hummed. “Who’s that, Osamu?”
The mentioned twin watched his brother and you with a softened expression. As the two of you fought like cats and dogs, he chuckled. “Someone who can stand Atsumu more than me.”
“Huh... If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they’re in love.”
The Inarizaki volleyball club watched as Atsumu pinched your cheeks and spread them ruthlessly, earning a high pitched whine from you. You resorted to clawing his face and Osamu had to put an end to both of your antics–
The voice on the intercom derailed your train of thought. Getting up, you stumbled out of the train in a daze.
You had unwittingly gone down memory lane, a bit too much. As your heels tapped against the concrete sidewalk, you glanced up at the dark sky twinkling with a streak of stars. Clouds rolled by leisurely, and waning luna peeked from her wispy blanket.
The rest of your high school had gone by in a blur, most of it involving Miya Atsumu. There was one time when you went to an anime and manga convention with him.
You smiled fondly at the distant memory: Atsumu was teary eyed as he shook hands with his favourite mangaka, who was a hunched over man. Out of respect for him, he knelt down, to be the same height, and took a photo with him in that state. You had never imagined a day would come when he would kowtow to someone.
Taking out your phone, you searched up for his social media and tapped on his Twitter account. There were posts after posts of his activity in the MSBY Black Jackals.
A silly selfie with a dog filter made you titter aloud. The comment section was overwhelmed with questions of his next match, his day, relationship status and the like.
Atsumu was an even bigger shot now. He also moved nearer to his volleyball team’s hometown, just to be able to practice longer hours there. He had left his hometown a while ago, and the both of you hadn’t contacted each other for years.
You once had his phone number, until a sneaky crow took off with your old mobile phone. No clue as to why that had happened.
Sighing at the thought, you stepped foot into your destination: a manga shop. The same one you had first met him. It never really changed; faded beige walls and oak wood shelves with blanched posters. Walking back in here only reminded you of how colourful your life had once been.
“Welcome back, (l/n)-san!” greeted the young boy behind the counter. He was the grandson of the shop owner, whose knees had deteriorated over the years.
You glanced in his direction. “How’s business been, kid?” He gave you an ‘ok’ sign and your expression softened. “Hope it’s okay if I take a bit. I finally found some time to shop.”
“Store’s closing in ten. Don’t take too long!” He waved back earnestly and you nodded.
Making your way past the familiar shelves, the clacking of your heels resounded in the almost empty store. Your hair bounced behind you as you tread past the sports manga section, past a tall, blonde.
You had failed to notice the old friend behind the mask. The blonde man glanced up the moment you passed, and his eyes widened in shock.
Without hesitation, you picked up the latest issue of Jump. It had been a while since you read manga, as everyday was swamped with work. Flipping through the black and white pages, your mind drifted to the reality in the panels.
You were oblivious to the male strutting towards you. As he approached, he took in your more adultly figure and attire. You were dressed in a white button up which clung to your chest, and a black pencil skirt that hugged your waist and hips.
You looked ravishing, to say the least, and Atsumu had to swallow the lump in his throat. There was no mistake, the beautiful woman in front of him was you.
He stopped behind you, hands jammed into his jean pockets before pulling down the white mask. The man with a dark cap atop his fluffy blonde locks peered past your smaller form to take in the manga in your hands. With a soft hum, he spoke up.
“Something’s never change, huh?”
You jolted up in surprise and whipped around, only to come face to face with an intimidatingly tall man. He was almost 190cm, perhaps, and was built with muscles that even his clothes couldn’t hide. His broad chest was in your face, and you had to tilt your head back to meet him in the eye.
With a lopsided grin, the man took off his cap. His tousled blonde locks sprang out of their cage, and your eyes widened in recognition while he smirked, “Sup, (y/n). How are ya?”
“Atsumu?!” You gasped, the Jump going slack in your hands as you dropped it. It flopped onto a pile of similar copies whilst said blonde placed a finger over his lips.
“Shh, I’m here on my day off!” He teasingly hushed, and you instantly clamped a hand over your mouth to silence your confused screaming.
Was this for real? How could the boy, who had painted your monochrome life full of colour, be standing right in front of you? Right now and right here?
Your eyes flitted from the pooling chocolate brown in his eyes to his larger stature. Raking his figure with your wide eyes, you came to a conclusion: Atsumu had changed.
You knew that he was more built from his self-centred topless selfies, but seeing him upclose was a whole different experience. He has grown taller too, though he had always loomed over you either way, but it was still a little frightening how much he could grow even after puberty. Meanwhile, his undercut was relatively the same, except his bangs were not pushed back, unlike before when they were swept to the right.
The only thing that had remained unchanged was the playful glint in his orbs and the smug smile tugging on his lips.
“I...Is it really you, ‘Tsumu?” You murmured, albeit teary eyes as you removed your hand from your mouth.
Running his fingers through his golden mane, he chuckled, “Do ya know anyone with these good looks?”
Your eyes narrowed playfully and you pinched his cheeks. Huffing, you told him off, “Stop trying to be so suave, weirdo!”
“Geh– But seriously, I thought you died or something! Ya never responded to my texts,” He spluttered out as you pulled his cheeks harder, and he managed to add, “But lucky me, you’re still kickin’!”
“Wait, you what?” Your lashes fluttered in confusion. You hadn’t gotten a word he had said since the beginning.
“I tried contacting you once in a while, but you never replied.” He blinked, and you looked down at the ground, suddenly embarrassed.
“Ah... My phone was stolen by a crow. And I lost your number...”
“Wait, for real? That sounds like something straight outta a manga!” He chortled as a sheepish smile snuck on your flushed face.
When Atsumu had calmed down, he placed his hands over yours, detaching them from his cheeks. Holding your hands gently, he wore a mask of calm. You were a bit confused by his sudden, gentle gesture. You gave him a questioning look, although your heart was starting to pound uncontrollably behind your ribs.
Squeezing your hand lightly, he began quietly. “(y/n), I know it’s been a long time and all... But I never forgot the times we had together. And, well, I know it’s kinda late, but I liked you.”
A blush crept up on both of your faces as he continued clumsily. “I kinda still do, so, well... If you’d like, we should–“
“Shop’s closing!” Atsumu and you jumped up in surprise. The boy was standing at the end of the section, a look of genuine surprise on his baby face. Glowering, the blonde barked fiercely.
“You ruined it, ya moron!”
The teen flinched before scuttling away. You burst into giggles as the upset athlete scowled. Whipping his head back to you, he scrunched his brows together, exasperated.
“What’s so funny?” He enquired, still wearing a frown.
Breathing shakily, you wiped away a tear in your eye. “You never really changed, Atsumu!” With a lidded eye smile, you grinned at him innocently, heart swelling with nostalgia.
His glare softened at your expression. Shooting a quick glance at the returned boy, who was peeking from the shelves anxiously, he clicked his tongue.
“Let’s ditch this place,” he grunted, taking your hand in his again as he dragged you out of the shop. You stumbled but eventually matched his pace.
With an apologetic glance at the young boy standing in the shop, you turned back to Atsumu. “Still as mean and pushy as always, aren’t cha?”
The faux blonde gave you a side glance, still pulling you along. Eye rolling, he slapped back on his cap and looked ahead, “Shut up.”
Neither Atsumu nor you couldn’t deny that both of your hearts were pounding. The two of you ended up taking a long stroll in your hometown, catching up on the pass few years and more. The night also had ended on a high note.
Once again, Miya Atsumu’s vibrant colours had seeped back into the monochrome panels of your life. Perhaps, this time, a romance would bloom between the two of you.
                      fin.
128 notes · View notes
mintchocohip · 4 years ago
Text
sub!bts as househusbands
╺ requested | the ot7 as househusbands!
╺ note | sub!bts x domme!reader. see each member for any notes!
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TAEHYUNG ➜
note | roleplay
Visiting friends, putting on his errand boy hat, or wandering town with a camera, an empty stomach, and a pocketful of cash occupy chunks of Taehyung’s weekdays. He isn’t allowed to open his sub journal until three hours past noon—that’s the hour when he misses you the most. At the sanctioned time Taehyung opens the journal to today’s date and picks out a handwritten note delicately tucked into the pages. Today, he’s Maestra’s best student—recording himself practicing the new song you chose on his violin. “'I’ll do anything for Maestra. I would be her Cinderella,’” you’re finally home, and you’re sitting next to Taehyung on the couch reading aloud the journal entry he scribbled after sending you the recording, “'cleaning on hands and knees.’” Taehyung’s sheepishness at hearing you voice his fantasies is cured by a fluff of his hair and a fond kiss on his rosy ear. As you wash dishes with Taehyung later this evening you’ll contemplate tomorrow. Choosing these secret tasks is your prerogative. Still. Your husband always has amazing ideas. 
YOONGI ➜
notes | naked apron kink, mentions of pegging
Yoongi is the ideal house husband. He’s vigilant, hardworking, and resourceful. A need for time and space alone is never questioned. When your sleepy-eyed husband emerges from the solitude of his home studio, though, Yoongi needs tangible proof he’s making you happy. “An apron?” Yoongi glances down at the white sheath. He wandered into the kitchen to find you home from work with a shopping bag on your elbow. You’re holding the apron’s straps against his shoulders to judge the fit. “Cooking naked. Flying oil. Makes me nervous... I thought my little chef could use an apron.” Yoongi blinks. He knows he’s blushing. Usually, he doesn’t pull on clothes before waking up early to cook you breakfast and pack your lunch for work. Cooking for you is basic, respectful routine. It would be easier to toss on a baggy shirt than tie an apron. This gift mostly appears to benefit the person who strolls into the kitchen most mornings acting like you’re already hopped up on two espressos and daydreaming about giving him the strap tonight while you wake yourself up knowing full well the effect your naughty backhugs and whispered “good morning, baby”s have on his attempts to focus on stirring veggies in the frying pan, of course; but, Yoongi has a feeling he might enjoy it more than you do.
JUNGKOOK ➜
notes | mdlb, little!jk
Jungkook waited for the right moment expectantly. He sensed it in your aura. He felt it in the way you looked at him, listened to him, and held him in the weeks before. Something changed. It was a comfortable, gentle change. Jungkook cried when he proposed. He cried at the wedding. He cried when you said it would be better to stop renting dungeon space and instead find an apartment with a suitable extra room. Marriage was about romance, symbolism, and becoming yours. Jungkook knew his lifestyle of playing games and going to the gym all day wouldn’t change. You’re two self-sufficient people who fix up chores as they appear. Most days, Jungkook feels that vocally supporting your ambitions and treating the apartment like a laundrette are the most important things he can do. When you text him to say you’re coming home early and wondering if he could take out all of his littlespace things and set up the playroom before you’re through the door—shocks run up Jungkook’s spine. He gloats like your friend when he steals your snacks, and he thinks like a roommate when he asks if he can dedicate more closet space to his growing shoe collection. Right now, you need your partner. That special knowledge relaxes Jungkook with peaceful—dry-eyed—certainty.  
HOSEOK ➜
note | mommy kink
You didn’t know housework channels existed until Hoseok started one. The ‘mommy’ in his social media handle is cutesy but sincere. In the past Hoseok has always felt tingly and whole when you gave him a sarcastic “sorry, mom” after he scolded you for putting drain cleaner in the wrong cupboard or failing to tap down a coaster for a glass of water. Now, it’s what a legion of fans call the faceless, apron-clad man posting soothing clips of himself cleaning through every room of this gorgeous sunny apartment and, occasionally, grooming the puppies. You’ve never really looked at any of it. Hoseok appreciates that you have him so wholly you don’t need to. “Soft,” you mutter while laying in bed with him at night. You’re playing with his hair to make him smile. Hoseok knows a certain bedside drawer is off-limits from his urge to tidy and rearrange. When you roll over to open it he curls up inside. At some point this house gained two mommies. Only one Mommy is dignified with a capital M in texts through fluxes of dirty talk and reminders to buy new air filters. Only one of them decides when and how Hoseok gets off. Your husband enjoys organizing his days. For your sake, he’s even happier to surrender his nights. 
JIMIN ➜
note | lifestyle d/s
Watered plants, vacuumed cat hair, spotless surfaces, empty recycling, lines in praise of Mistress. Jimin sends you photos of today’s completed chores at the scheduled times and gets cute emojis in return. If he lived alone Jimin might spend all day playing with the foster cats and downing wine at brunch. As it is, he carefully considers a new color scheme for the bathroom. He needs this space to be pretty for you. Shopping with a wide open budget usually distracts Jimin into sending you pictures of a giant teddy bear and asking if you would be angry to find it in the living room when you come home. Although he flutters from amusement to amusement, Jimin is always home, relaxed, and wearing the clothes you like when he needs to be. Hanging up your backpack and taking off your shoes, following you into the bedroom, and kneeling at the edge of the bed to massage your legs and eat your cunt is ritualistic. Jimin makes amazing coffee. You lounge in bed, sip the mug he brings, and tell him what to order for dinner. Discipline earns its rewards. The reason you bicker with smiles on your faces about Jimin’s definition of “spotless surfaces” is absolute comfort. You know what you want from each other, and you want the same things.  
NAMJOON ➜
Lounging in the garden is a fine way to spend a weekend afternoon. Cool shade inside the wisteria tunnel is dappling Namjoon with light and shadow. You lean over the picnic tatami and clink lemonade cans with the man who created this masterpiece. He smiles shyly when he realizes you’re staring. You’re giving him that look. Once upon a time, discovering that you don’t care too much about your surroundings excited Namjoon. It’s a form of power he never thought he would have in a marriage. Perusing local furniture galleries and commissioning artists to furnish a home that suits his aesthetic sparked Namjoon’s creativity. Tempering compost, monitoring seedlings in the garden, and flecking walkways with wildflowers and willows brims him with encompassing adoration for life. Beauty is created in the wake of his passionate work. “Unbutton your shirt halfway.” You're taking a sip of lemonade, leaning back, and watching Namjoon follow your instruction. Buttons open somewhat shakily. He rests his hands and waits to hear your next idle thought on what he should do for you. The outlines of these moments cross your mind slowly and meander to your imagination. You don’t have the patience for gardening. You do have the patience to capture some of Namjoon’s beauty for yourself.  
SEOKJIN ➜
note | blindfolds
Your coworkers have met him at parties. Seokjin is a friendly, handsome man with savoir faire. A creative list of salacious reasons a man like that would drop his career forms behind your back. Seokjin scoffs when you relay gossip to him. He’s especially fond of the idea he’s a criminal witness skirting discovery. Trying the hobbies he never had time for, taking his little cousins to the aquarium, fishing weekends, signing up for classes at the local university, streaming liveplays out of his gaming room or cooking tutorials out of the fancy kitchen you funded—Seokjin savors it all with fresh-faced enthusiasm. Some days he just takes out the trash, folds laundry, edges himself, gets bored, catnaps, and checks his phone to see if you can call because he’s lonely today and nothing he could do compares to hearing his wife tell him what’s on her mind. There is an unwieldy desire inside Seokjin, despite it all. He needs to demonstrate the ways he cherishes, protects, and provides for you. Sometimes, it’s being the person you need to tell about your day. It’s being the person who cooks your comfort foods, provides warm hugs, queues your shows, and takes you on dates. Most often, it’s your kiss on his forehead as you adjust the blindfold and praise him sweetly. “You’re the reason,” you remind him with another kiss, “that I’m always smiling when I think about home.”
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closedafterdark · 4 years ago
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If you were given a chance for a threesome in LOONA which duo would you pick heejin anf choerry or olivia hye and hyunjin?
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“You want me to do what?”
“Pick who you want to h-have a threesome with…”
Your lips crashed against your girlfriend’s, Jeon Heejin. Arms wrap around both of your bodies as your natural desires are beginning to release. Both of your movements are driven by a mixture of instinct, lust and passion.
Your tongue finds its way inside Heejin’s mouth, meeting its counterpart and engaging in a fierce duel with it. Both of you fought for control, not wanting the other to claim victory. Your hands wandered around the feel of her warm, soft body. Heejin was very fit but also possessed a certain curviness that you always found yourself discovering new signs of.
You break the kiss to dive into her neck, your girlfriend lifting her head to give you easier access. Your hand simultaneously finds its way behind her waist and grasps one of her soft butt cheeks, earning you a soft moan from her as she allows you to reacquaint yourself with her body.
It hadn’t been long since the two of you were last intimate - three days to be exact, but you have spent a large amount of that time apart in between the thighs of Choi Yerim and Son Hyejoo.
“Who did you have in mind?” you whispered softly into her ear, blowing hot air as Heejin releases lust-filled moans. Each time you have slept with her friends, it was always just you and them. But her newfound proposition to you brings a mixture of uncertainty and excitement at the thought of having another person in the bedroom.
“Y-Yerim and I…” Heejin began, her voice low and quiet. “O-Or Son Hyejoo and Hyunjin… ahh.”
The possibilities of how you would give each of them pleasure aroused you even more as you left the comfortable crevice of her pretty neck. You give Heejin a soft kiss on the lips before kissing her shoulders and turn her around. The two of you were currently on the outside balcony of your apartment. Heejin was facing the railing, grabbing onto it for support.
Heejin had no regard for being seen in public, as she was currently naked for all who wanted to see. You admired how tight she was; she lost some baby fat on her cheeks but still contained the soft squishiness you loved pinching whenever you teased her. You were never one to complain about the size of her breasts, as long as they were perky and fit in your hand, that was all you needed. She had been putting many hours in the gym - her toned biceps, a flat, slim stomach that led to the beautiful present waiting for you between her thighs.
You lifted your shirt over your head before pressing yourself against her back. As it was the only article of clothing you had left on you, the two of you enjoyed the feeling of your naked bodies pressing against each other. Your arms snaked around her wanton body - your left hand reaching upwards and cupping her breast while your right hand caresses the defined muscles of her abdomen.
“Baby…” Heejin moaned, accompanied by a sigh of satisfaction at the feeling of your hands teasing her body.
You planted soft, tender kisses against her skin, feeling her hardening nipple against your palm as she lets out a louder gasp at your intimate touch. Your hand traces a tease-filled path until it finally reaches the ultimate prize: the wonderful, warm spot in her lower body.
Your middle finger quickly dives deep, going past her thighs to the very bottom of her pussy, finding it unsurprisingly drenched. Her juices quickly soaked your finger as you slowly traced her outer lips in an upward movement until you found her clitoris. You caressed it in slow, up and down movements, relishing in the fact that your girlfriend was already so aroused.
“Baby… you’re so wet.”
“You make me wet…” Heejin replied, driving you to slowly increase the tempo of your strokes against her clit, the volume of steady moans escaping from her throat rapidly increasing. “T-The thought of you f-fucking Yerim and I sounds so yummy.”
Heejin gulps a large amount of saliva as your finger plays with her clit for several long minutes. She feels her forehead start to sweat as waves of pleasure course through her body.
By this point, Heejin is a quivering, shaky mess. She struggles to hold herself up as her legs feel like they’re turning into jelly. Her sexual frustration was at an all-time high, as Hyejoo and Yerim went into great detail about the intimate moments they shared with you.
You continued to press yourself against your girlfriend, releasing in the warmth of her lower body radiating against your shaft. Heejin moves her hand behind her and her fingers delicately grab onto your cock, pumping you up and down as slowly as she can given her current position.
You reward Heejin’s efforts with your own, your finger rubbing her clit with a consistent pressure. Your other hand massages the stiffened nipple of her breast, pinching it and earning yourself soft, breathy moans escaping from her throat. As your fingers continue to work their magic on her body, her arousal continues and increases in volume as she reaches her peak.
The pleasure is beginning to be too much for Heejin, who lets go of her tight grip on your cock. She reaches back with her hand, grasping onto your hips as she tries to support herself up from pleasure coursing her body.
“Oppa, I can’t last much longer…” Heejin said, barely able to speak from the gasps of pleasure and lust. “I’m cumming…!”
Heejin is unable to prevent it any longer. Her body is wracked by intense spasms as the hand between her legs drives her over the edge. Her soft thighs capture your hand and wrist between them as you feel her body quiver in pleasure. You squeezed her breast a bit tighter as she savors every moment of her orgasm.
“Oppa…” she said softly, her chest heaving with heavy breaths. “I want you to fuck me.”
You take your cock and softly place it against her quivering, hot wet flesh. Both of you take delight in the feeling of your cockhead pressing against her opening, the slit pressing against her clit as it passes over it. In one soft movement, your head is lined up with her ready, inviting lips. Heejin’s mouth opens and releases a small gasp as the two of you savor the feeling of your bodies being connected. Heejin rubs her hips against yours, signaling to you that it was okay to move inside her.
You pumped slowly, a bit hesitant she wanted you to go rough even though her body wasn’t ready yet. Both of you wanted to make sure to prolong the moment, enjoying every sensation that coursed throughout your bodies.
Heejin’s constant stream of moans that came from her throat was a stark difference to Yerim and Hyejoo. Yerim was loud - often cheering you on during random moments and wanting to make as much noise as possible. Hyejoo was a bit softer, but was no stranger to being loud when hitting certain peaks of pleasure. With Heejin, she started to gasp and moan the second you entered her and would continue when you finally left her body. Her palms firmly gripped the railing as you finally began fucking her.
The sounds turned into something that could resemble words as you increased the speed and depths of your thrusts slightly. You enjoyed the feeling of Heejin’s soft ass smacking against your crotch as your cock pounds her wet tightness.
“Oppa! Oh fuck… just like that… fuck me just like that…”
It doesn’t take very long until Heejin’s next orgasm arrives.
“I’m gonna cum… oppa, I’m gonna cum!”
Heejin screams, her second orgasm not nearly as intense as her first, but the soft warmth of her pussy’s contractions as she reaches her peak are no less satisfying. The sudden wetness that floods your cock is just one of the many things you loved about her. Her body shudders softly as the waves of pleasure crash over her. And while you both are a bit saddened that it isn’t as powerful, the warmth and soothingness of it is enough for you.
“B-Baby… I’m cumming…” you said to Heejin. It was more of a statement rather than a warning. While you did want to prolong your own orgasm, Heejin knew her body would make you unable to do so. You looked down watching your hands hold onto her hips as you thrusted into her. Out of her friends, Heejin had the tightest pussy. She made sure to let them know that whenever they got together and ended up talking about you. Post-orgasm, Heejin’s pussy was almost unbearable with how tight it always becomes.
Heejin doesn’t acknowledge your statement, wanting you to thrust a few times into her body before she finally answers.
“Cum in me, baby.” she says softly as she closes her eyes and allows herself to savor the pleasure. “Fill my body with your cum. Cum in me like you did this morning to Yerim.”
Her last sentence fell on deaf ears as your orgasm takes you by surprise. You thrust into her once more, filling her all the way. Your cock spasms, sending thick, hot streaks of semen into her wanton pussy.
“Oppa…” Heejin said softly, her voice a soft whisper. “Tell Hyejoo not to drain you so much next time.”
Somehow the two of you managed to find yourselves back in bed. When you wake up, you find you are all alone. Trying to shake the haziness of sleep away, your eyes slowly begin to focus on Heejin looking at you from the entrance of the bedroom door, smiling sweetly at you with a hand on her hip.
--
“Hi, baby. You were knocked out pretty good there.” she said.
“W-What time is it?” you said, stretching your arms before rubbing your eyes.
“I know, it’s early. But I completely forgot Jungeun unnie and I have a museum date today. Seems like she got some inspiration from when you visited her art studio and collaborated.”
“But what about the thing you brought up last night?”
“What do you mean?” It doesn’t take long for her to realize what you meant. “Oh… that. Sorry, baby. It seems like you’ll have to enjoy being suffocated by Yerim’s thighs without me. Make sure to save some energy for me when I come back home.”
“I love you.”
Still exhausted and trying to recover from the haze of drowsiness, you were unable to see Heejin off, only hearing the sounds of the apartment door locking behind her as she exited.
You promptly went back to sleep, wanting to enjoy the feeling of sleeping in. After a relaxing warm shower and reheating the breakfast made for you that you wondered how she found the energy to do so, you were currently on the couch, flipping through various channels to find a program worth watching.
The ringtone of your doorbell plays, echoing throughout the apartment. Grumbling at the thought of your viewing experience being interrupted, the monitor comes alive and displays three women of various heights. Smiling, you press a button that unlocks the door.
“Oppa…!”
The moment you approach the door it opens and you are greeted by a gust of long brown hair as you feel someone suddenly squeeze you. Choi Yerim loved giving you hugs, whether it be in the bedroom or not. She looked up at you with her beautiful, bright round eyes. The smile on her face seemed to be etched on, you never saw her without it. Even though a majority of your time with her was intimate and pleasure-seeking, you enjoyed moments like these where the two of you valued one another’s company.
“Let go of him and let us get a turn to hug him too.”
A loud sound comes from Yerim’s back as she reacts and holds you even tighter. Son Hyejoo was a quiet person, mainly using actions to get her message across. She gave you a soft smile, her triangle shaped upper lip furrowing as she shook her head at Yerim’s refusal to detach herself from you.
“Hi, Hyunjin.”
Kim Hyunjin was the last of the women to meet your gaze. The last time you were intimate with her was in the parking structure of the hotel you all were staying at in Jeju Island. The sinful act of intimacy made you two forget to buy bubble tea for the group - something that didn’t go unpunished by Heejin, especially since she specifically told you not to sleep with anyone besides her during the trip.
Like Yerim, she had big, round eyes. While Yerim’s were bright and possessed a certain glint, Hyunjin’s were beady and seemed almost robotic. All of you were used to her lack of facial expressions, seemingly able to tell what mood she was in even though she looked exactly the same to an untrained eye.
“What brings you guys over?” you asked, inviting them in as you waddled due to Yerim refusing to let go of you.
“Did Heejin tell you anything?” Hyunjin asked as she and Hyejoo sat on the couch. You sat on a different one facing them, Yerim by your side.
“She said… a threesome between her and Yerim over here, or you and Hyejoo. But that won’t be able to happen since Heejin’s not here.”
“That’s kinda why we’re here, oppa. We told Jungeun to plan a day for just the two of them weeks in advance. And when we told her we wanted to have a threesome with you, we scheduled it to happen at the same time.”
A bit stunned at what you just heard from Hyunjin, you looked to Hyejoo. She looked down and away, a simple nod as confirmation. Looking to Yerim who was clinging to your arm, she had a bright smile on her face.
“I was the one who brought it up to them. Fighting, oppa!”
“So… it’s not a threesome?”
“No. In fact… it’ll be something even better.”
“You get to have your way with all of us.”
“Right. I mean… what?” you asked.
“Heejin unnie is gone. Which means we get to have you all to ourselves.” Hyejoo said.
“I’ll take any chance I can get with you.” Hyunjin said. “Plus, it’ll be fun seeing you fuck these two.”
“I just want to spend time with you, oppa.” Yerim added. “Your hugs always keep me so warm.”
“So… who do you want first?”
Hyunjin’s words registered in your mind as Yerim and Hyejoo sat on your bed. You were thankful to have changed the sheets before they arrived, but knew it was futile since you would have to replace them afterwards.
“I have a choice?”
“Of course you do. So, who will it be?” Hyunjin’s voice was stern, and her facial expression becoming emotionless meant you knew she was serious. A chill filled the air as you had no choice but to weigh your current options. All three had delicious, mouth-watering thighs that you would love to sink your head or cock between. Hyejoo’s simple makeup and curve hugging dress made her a clear choice if you wanted stimulation from her mouth or breasts. Yerim always made sex fun - her beautiful smile as she moaned and rode your cock brought a certain element of friendship to the intimate and erotic act.
“These two have been making some bold claims, oppa.” Hyunjin said, approaching Hyejoo. She gently placed a finger underneath her chin, grazing it before lifting it up so that the two would make eye contact. “Son Hyejoo has gone on record by saying she gives you the best blowjobs… and that these tits of hers snuggle your cock and keep it warm.” Hyunjin squeezes Hyejoo’s clothed breasts, slapping them harshly two times each before leaving her.
“Choi Yerim on the other hand… says you love fucking her thighs. She’s even said Hyejoo and I are twigs compared to her.”
“Oppa, it’s true! You said you loved my thighs!”
“Enough.” Hyunjin said, yanking Yerim’s beautiful chestnut brown hair. “These sluts must be punished for their false accusations.”
“What punishment did you have in mind?” you asked, slightly nervous yet aroused at the same time.
Hyunjin folded her arms, pacing around several steps before stopping. She brings a hand to her chin, tapping her foot as she seems to be deep in thought.
“I say you start with this whore first, oppa.” Hyunjin finally answered, pointing her finger daintily at Yerim.
“Yay!” Yerim said excitedly - you shook your head. Leave it to her to find a positive out of a serious situation. You noticed it was a mixture of happiness and desire. Yerim loved sex almost as much as she loved being happy.
Hyunjin traces Yerim’s cheeks tenderly with the back of her finger, before it drifts downward towards the nape of her neck. One hand softly wraps around Yerim’s neck while the other squeezes her breast and pushes her down onto the bed.
“Are you ready for oppa, babygirl?” Hyunjin asked, every word dripping with seduction.
Yerim’s black skirt was raised up by Hyunjin revealing her pure, creamy skin inch by inch. You had a fondness for women with wide hips and nice thighs, something Yerim had plenty of. She wore a pair of sheer black panties, ones you were certain you ripped off of her yesterday.
“Surprised to see you wear underwear for once.” Hyunjin said. “You always did enjoy pretending you aren’t a slut.”
“I-I’m not a slut, unnie!” Yerim whined. “You’re the one who could never keep her legs closed before Heejin unnie and oppa got together!”
Hyunjin’s face instantly reddened with anger. “Oppa, eat this slut out. Now.”
Hyunjin had a devilish look in her eyes as you approached the bed. Yerim instinctively raised her legs and spread her thighs, giving you the perfect viewpoint to sink your head into. Mirroring yesterday’s rendezvous at the gym, you grabbed onto the hem of her cotton panties and yanked them off her body. The thin fabric proved no resistance, easily being removed from Yerim hips. You were now face to face with her beautiful pink lips, glistening wetly. It never took much in order for her to be aroused.
Unable to contain yourself any longer, you find yourself between her spread thighs. Your tongue escapes your lips, savoring the taste of Yerim’s sweet nectar. You give her hot, slick pussy long licks starting from the bottom and working your way up. You briefly take a moment to swirl the tip of your tongue around her clit each time you return to it.
“Fuck, oppa…” sharp gasps escape her mouth with each of your licks. Yerim and your sheets quickly become a mess - her hot, wet juices leak out and drip down your chin as you establish a rhythm. You give her slow, broad strokes with your tongue. Yerim’s thighs instinctively try to close themselves around your head but you prevent it, holding onto her inner creases and spreading them apart. She has become a needy, squirming mess at this point.
Yerim’s delicious thighs obstruct your view and make you almost forget Hyejoo and Hyunjin were in the room with you. All you could focus on is the woman whose legs you were in between and the thought of making her feel good. The steadily increasing volume of her moans are the only other sense you recognize besides the taste of her pussy and its juices.
“Oppa… I’m cumming… Fuck! I’m about to cum, oppa…!”
You were surprised at how fast Yerim’s orgasm arrived. Besides the fact you were pleasuring her, the thought of being watched and wanting to prove to the others just how good you were with her may have been the reason her climax triggered prematurely.
Yerim screamed loudly as you intensified your clicks on her clit, it being the final key to unlocking her orgasm. The pleasure wracked her body as it forced her thighs closed around your head, despite your insistent efforts to keep them spread open for you. Her body convulses, shaking as you feel a hot rush of tasty juices enter your mouth as she orgasms. She tasted sweet, she always did. But this time, perhaps the situation of being watched made her that much more delicious.
You savored the taste of her juices, her quivering pussy pulsing from aftershocks as Yerim struggles to come down from her euphoric high. You give her wet flesh long, slow licks. Her thighs weakening their grip on your head signals to you she is beginning to return to normal, moaning incoherently as you give her pussy a deep kiss and rise from between her legs. You lick your lips in satisfaction, using the back of your hand as a napkin.
As your senses begin to refocus, you were a bit surprised to not hear Hyunjin or Hyejoo. You turn around and see Hyunjin with her back to the wall near the entrance of your bathroom. Hyejoo is in front of her, free of her dress as Hyunjin cups the younger woman’s full, round breasts. Her beady eyes stare back at you, almost taunting you for not picking the busty vixen.
Hyejoo’s triangle lips provide little comfort for her steady stream of moans. She has been reduced to a shuddering, writhing mess in Hyunjin’s embrace. Hyunjin licks Hyejoo’s ear from bottom to top, blowing a warm breath of air softly while simultaneously her hand descends down towards her crotch.
“Oh, fuck…” Hyejoo moaned in a deep register as Hyunjin’s naughty fingers slipped past the undergarment and rub her lips.
“Oppa, this slut is drenched for you too.” Hyunjin said a frighteningly erotic smile on her face.
Yerim had been able to recover from her orgasm, closing the distance between you two as she removed the sweatpants from your body. You looked down at her and both of you smiled, Yerim biting her lip as she makes quick work of your boxers. You stroke her hair appreciatively, Yerim nuzzling her cheek against the palm of your hand satisfied she earned your approval.
You laid down on your back, Yerim snuggling close to you as your lips connected with each other. Her small hand reaches down your body and strokes your cock slowly, a calm feeling before the storm of pleasure soon arriving.
“Get on top of him, whore.” Hyunjin said, finally releasing her hold on Hyejoo. She slaps the younger woman’s ass harshly, the sound satisfying all of your ears.
Son Hyejoo climbs onto the bed, still drunk from the pleasure Hyunjin gave her but ready to have you inside of her. She straddles you quickly, her soft, muscular thighs your favorite thing to be in between. You were surprised to see a trail of clothing from her previous spot with Hyunjin, she certainly didn’t waste any time. Yerim gives you one last kiss before moving to the other side of the bed. Hyejoo grabs your hard cock, giving you two quick strokes. She was delighted to feel you strengthening in her hand, your shaft pulsing. She bites her lips, showing off her beautiful triangle upper lip before giving you a mischievous wink. Hovering above you slightly, Hyejoo aims your tip against her opening before slowly lowering herself onto you.
“Oh my god…”
Both of you closed your eyes - the feeling of your cock entering her tight walls is something you will never grow tired of. Hyejoo bit her fingertip, her body still adjusting to you being inside her. She was gorgeous, her soft features a stark contrast to the sinful curves that made up her wide hips and thighs. She was cute and adorable during the day - but in the bedroom she was captivating, a woman who was fueled by lust.
Hyejoo rides you slowly, placing her hands on your chest as she takes you in and out of her body with short movements of her hips. She quickly gains speed, riding you with a firm pace as your cock enters and exits her hot, wet pussy. You watched as a steady stream of soft gasps and moans left her full lips. Son Hyejoo’s breasts bounced with each thrust of her hips as she braced herself against your chest. They were hypnotizing in a way - you had no willpower to resist as you reached upwards and fondled her soft flesh, teasing her stiffening nipples with your thumbs. Hyejoo is bouncing up and down on your cock, her hips grinding against your own.
“Look at this slut, oppa. All of us are jealous how big these nice, soft tits are.” Hyunjin said, going behind Hyejoo as she slapped her tits. Hyejoo had the nicest bust of all the women present, using it to her advantage whenever she took your cock in between them.
Hyejoo screamed in ecstasy, her soft, pillowy asscheeks bounced against your thighs. Her warm, velvety walls wrapped around your cock as you began to fuck her harder.
Hyejoo looked at you with half-lidded, lust filled eyes. She wanted more. And so did you. You slapped her beautiful bouncing breasts, causing her to moan even louder.
“Hit me more… please.” she cried. “I want more.”
You grabbed her breasts roughly, squeezing them into your palms. Hyejoo’s soft flesh wasn’t able to fit into your hands, a testament to their large size.
“Oppa… likes Hyejoo’s tits doesn’t he? They’re so nice and bouncy just for you…”
“They don’t fit in oppa’s hand… they’re too big.” you said, slapping her jiggling breasts once more. You punish Hyejoo for having a large chest by constantly squeezing them before giving her harsh smacks, increasing in force each time. Her body reacts accordingly, the force of your slaps being felt as her butt jiggles each time. Her pussy constricts your cock even more, the absolute tightness of it a mixture of pain and pleasure.
Feeling a bit tired, you decided to hold onto Hyejoo’s hips as she rode you. Having already been stimulated by Hyunjin, it doesn’t take very long until she feels her orgasm arriving.
“Oppa… I’m cumming!”
Hearing those words you pumped upwards, timing your thrusts with her lowering her hips. With one final lowering of her body all the way to your base, Hyejoo freezes. Even though she knew it was coming, the orgasm still takes her by surprise - her pussy tightens significantly around you. You did everything in your power to resist joining her. Hyejoo’s body quivers, shaking on top of yours as she fully succumbs to the pleasure coursing through her. Her nails dig into your chest, holding onto you tightly as she savors the euphoric high.
Waiting for you on the floor below was Kim Hyunjin, spreading out your spare bed covers as a makeshift bed for the two of you. Her nice, round ass and tantalizing thighs were beckoning you to be in between them.
“Took you long enough. Now it’s time to fuck a real woman.” she confidently said.
“Fuck her, oppa. She keeps bragging about how quickly she made you cum!” Yerim whined. Son Hyejoo laid on her back, her eyes still half-lidded as her chest heaves, her soft breasts rising and falling with each staggered breath. You smiled, it always did take her some time to recover from her orgasms.
“Yerim, why don’t you go and strip your slut of an unnie for me?” you said, giving her a soft kiss on the lips to sweeten your request. Yerim giggled and reciprocated, giving you plenty of quick pecks before getting off the bed. She traces Hyunjin’s face with the back of her finger, the older girl freezing up at the sudden contact. Yerim makes a show of unbuttoning Hyunjin’s sea blue collared shirt. Reaching down and squeezing her soft ass, she unzips Hyunjin’s skirt and slides it down her long, perfect legs.
“Unnie’s not a slut, Yerim.” Hyunjin complained.
Yerim suddenly grabbed Hyunjin’s wrists and pushed her down on the bed covers. Waiting for you, she takes her place on top of her unnie’s face.
Like Heejin, Hyunjin had a perfect, model-like body. She squirmed and tried to resist, her efforts in vain as Yerim’s thick thighs held onto both sides of her head. Hyunjin loved being defiant, especially in bed. And due to her effort in making Hyejoo have an orgasm before you could truly enjoy her body, you wanted to punish her.
Hyunjin’s efforts to keep her thighs closed were met with a soft laugh from you, prompting you to use hardly any force to spread them apart. Your palms held onto each full, warm thigh. Her pussy was inviting, almost taunting you. The wet flesh glistened, ready for you to take her.
Your cock, still covered in Hyejoo’s juices was currently in your hand as you slapped her pussy with it. You were delightfully rewarded with the sounds of wet flesh against wet flesh. A soft gasp escapes Hyunjin’s lips as she is wet from you and from Yerim’s pussy mere centimeters from her face.
“I… I’m not a slut, oppa.”
“Then why are you dripping for oppa like a leaking faucet?” Yerim sneered.
Ignoring the two of them cutely bickering, you placed the head of your shaft between her soft wet lips and entered her pussy with one full stroke.
You’ve forgotten the feeling of being inside Hyunjin’s pussy, with her mainly preferring to take you between her thighs or inside her ass. She was tight - tighter than Heejin. But of the three currently in the room, Hyunjin would be in the middle; the top spot going to Choi Yerim who was currently above her face. Her pussy had a hot slickness that made her body utterly sinful to be inside.
Hyunjin gasps loudly as you are reacquainted with her pussy for the first time in months.
“Oppa…”
You grasp her full thighs and bury your cock as deep as you could before withdrawing until only the head was inside - then you begin fucking Kim Hyunjin.
“Oh my god, oppa… That feels so fucking good.”
You grabbed onto Hyujin’s neck with both of your hands and squeezed firmly. You briefly saw her eyes widen before your view was replaced with Yerim’s thighs and cute butt. You fucked her roughly, contrasting your delicate actions earlier with Hyejoo. Yerim’s soft moans were drowned out by Hyunjin’s loud, muffled ones.
Yerim held onto Hyunjin’s head, her nails digging into the older girl’s skull as she roughly pulled her hair. Yerim’s moans quickly turned into loud screams as she was being eaten out. Hyunjin’s body rocked back and forth as you fucked her even harder with each thrust. The room was soon filled with wet flesh and three people using each other for their own pleasure.
“Make me come, unnie.” Yerim said, holding onto Hyunjin’s hair. “Make me cum like the slut you are.”
“Mmhph.” Hyunjin groaned from underneath Yerim’s thighs, slurping her juices loudly.
“You like when oppa pounds your slutty pussy don’t you? I bet your ass is stretched from how many times you have let him and Heejin inside there.”
Yerim’s depreciating words fuel your inner desires, causing you to pick up the speed and fuck her violently. And while you wished she was on her knees so you could slap her jiggling ass, you relished in knowing that she was receiving twice the stimulation.
“Do I taste good, unnie?” Yerim asked, pulling Hyunjin’s head around in a circular motion. “Oppa likes my juices. He says they’re sweeter than yours.”
You ran your fingers up and down the creases of Hyunjin’s thighs, her body spasming as you continued fucking her. All she could feel was Yerim’s pussy and beautiful ass on top of her. Her unique cherry scent still lingering even though all three of you were sweating and perfumed the air with the unique smell of sex. She felt her tight, wet pussy’s walls wrapping around your cock as you thrust your hips inside her.
Hyunjin teased Yerim by kissing the inner creases of her thighs before burying her tongue as deep as she could go. Yerim’s moans filled the room as she pushed her pussy deeper into Hyunjin’s mouth. The three of you worked in sync to make each other cum.
“Unnie… I’m cumming. I’m going to cum on your face… oh my god…!”
Yerim’s nails dug deeper into Hyunjin’s head as she continued slurping her clit between her lips. Although you couldn’t see her face, you knew Yerim’s eyes were half-lidded with pleasure as the pressure building up inside her was about to release.
“Fuck… unnie! I’m about to cum!”
Yerim screamed as her thighs pressed deep against Hyunjin’s face. Clamping onto both sides of her head, Choi Yerim’s juices gushed all over. Hyunjin’s face became a mess, you saw juices trailing down her chin and neck as both women’s toes curled as they lost all control.
A simultaneous feeling was happening on Hyunjin’s lower body as you thrusted inside her. Yerim kept Hyunjin’s face buried between her thighs long after her climax had subsided, wanting to savor the feeling of her unnie’s tongue. Each thrust of your cock inside her made her pussy drip onto your shaft as her walls clenched you tightly. Unable to give you any warning, you hear Hyunjin’s muffled scream as her orgasm finally arrives.
Her tight, velvety walls squeezed the life out of your cock as juices freely flowed out of her pussy and drenched both of your thighs. Hyunjin’s body was a quivering mess as she tried her best to not lose control of herself. You held onto her exhausted hips, giving her several short, shallow thrusts before removing yourself inch by inch until you were no longer inside her comfortable cavern.
Hyunjin’s body was completely drenched in sweat. Her freshly fucked pussy glistened with her juices, leaking onto the bed covers below. She and Yerim were unable to speak, the pleasure having taken over their bodies. As the both of them laid sprawled on the ground half-lidded and drifting in and out of consciousness, Son Hyejoo kisses on you on the lips before bringing you back on the bed with her.
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Immediately you feel the walls of Hyejoo’s mouth massage your cock as she takes you fully inside. She looked at you straight in the eyes, her saliva leaking out the sides of her lips. Having learned to breathe through her nose from the amount of times she has given you a blowjob, more drool continued flowing out of her mouth. You held onto her face and began bobbing her head up and down, feeling her divine soft lips and tongue against your cock. Hyejoo’s head remained between your thighs for as long as you wanted - or at least she tried to, slapping them when she began to run out of air. You regretfully release your hold on her head, causing her to withdraw your cock from her mouth.
“Did that feel good, oppa?”
“Holy fuck… Hyejoo…”
Hyejoo smiled before moving her body upwards slightly and stuck out her tongue, allowing saliva to drip onto your cock and her breasts. She held the soft flesh tightly, wrapping your cock in a wonderfully warm pillow before she began to move her body up and down slowly. They were incredibly soft and plentiful, like a comfortable sweater made just for your shaft.
She stuck two fingers inside her mouth, her breasts sliding up and down your cock as a fresh supply of her spit came out of her mouth and dripped onto the both of you. Each motion of her soft flesh allowed her saliva to coat you evenly.
“Fuck, oppa… Your cock feels so good between my tits.”
Soft moans exited Son Hyejoo’s mouth as she squeezed her voluptuous breasts around your cock. It was an incredible sensation that you wished you had easier access to whenever you wanted. Part of you wished Hyejoo’s bra was still on, you enjoyed seeing your cockhead appear and disappear between her cleavage. Her breasts were so full and round - a perfect vehicle to surround every possible surface of your shaft. Interlocking her hands in front of her breasts, she squeezed you so tightly that it almost became painful.
“Oppa… does this feel good? It’s making me so wet…”
You opened your mouth but were unable to speak, Hyejoo’s breasts taking your breath away. She squeezed you even harder, the base of your cock repeatedly being hit by her lubricated flesh.
“H-Hyejoo, I’m cumming…” you managed to say.
“Cum…” Hyejoo replied, removing your cock from the warmth of her chest as she helped you get up and got on her knees in front of you. She wrapped her lips around your cock, sucking you roughly while massaging your balls before giving them a firm squeeze.
Not one did Hyejoo break eye contact with you, her eyes begging for your cum as you ran your fingers through her dark black hair.
“I’m cumming!” you yelled.
You tilted Hyejoo’s head upwards before holding her in place as you erupted all over her angelic face. It felt endless, a steady stream of lust, sin and desire you had built up in you from each of your sexual adventures with these women. Hyejoo just so happened to be the lucky recipient as you sprayed hot, thick semen all over their mouths as you watched it slowly drip down her body, painting her creamy smooth skin.
“Thank you, oppa.” Hyejoo said, saliva, sweat and cum dripping down her face as she smiles at you.
You climbed back onto the bed with Hyejoo, both of your energies thoroughly depleted. She traced her fingers onto her face, consuming as much of your cum as she could. She brushed your hair, staring at you lovingly before giving you a deep passionate kiss. You lowered your body, resting your head on her soft, cloudlike breasts.
“I want round 2 when you wake up, oppa.”
And while she wasn’t there to experience what just occurred, you were happy that Heejin prepared such a special event for you.
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fairlyspnfanfic · 4 years ago
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The Ties That Bind Us - Part Nine
Summary: When your past comes back to haunt you, who will prevail? Hunting had been your life since you were 4 years old.  The monsters that started you on that path were resurfacing, and you knew what you had to do.  But nothing is ever truly secret, and nothing is ever that cut and dry with the Winchester’s in tow.
A/N: This is a new one that is coming from a few requests. I’m not going to post the actual requests because…well because it would spoil the story line and I’m pretty into this one.
Words: 2671
Warnings: Violent imagery, traumatic experience, death of family members, blood and gore, language
PART ONE  PART TWO  PART THREE PART FOUR PART FIVE PART SIX   PART SEVEN  PART EIGHT
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I lay as still as I could in my bed, not allowing myself to make eye contact with him.  I knew that if I did, tears would flow and he would pull words from me that I wasn’t ready to say.
“Y/N,” he prodded.  “I know there’s something you’re not telling me. Come on.”  His words overflowed with irritation and his body was tense.  “Just spit it out!”  His words came out gravely and a few octaves lower than his normal voice. I had heard him this irate before, but never with me.  
“No,” I said, my lips tight as I wrapped my arms around myself.  I turned my face towards him, taking in his wide eyes and his gaping mouth as he stared at me in disbelief.  
“No? What do you mean, no? No isn’t an option here, Y/N.”  
I ran my fingers through my hair, making a mental note to shower as soon as possible.  “I can’t.  Don’t ask me to.”  I pulled my knees into myself, ignoring the twinge of pain it caused as my muscles stretched.  
“Too bad,” he decreed, his voice full of imagined authority.  “You’ve gotten us here by keeping secrets.  By going it alone.  That isn’t an option anymore.  Just…” His tone softened as he took a breath.  “Tell me, please.  Tell me what’s going on.”
I inhaled deeply, feeling my chest expand as I attempted to calm myself down.  Dean hadn’t known about my past.  Not one detail about my family or the monsters that took them from me. Just that I had grown up in the life. Everything in me wanted to keep it that way, but knowing the insistence on his face, I knew I had to give him something.
“They were the ones that killed my parents.”  I began, watching him tilt his head like a confused puppy.  “The pack.  The wolves we came here for.”  I took another deep breath in through my nose in another futile attempt to keep myself calmer than I ever could be. “We were at a museum that day.  Some anatomy thing where you could climb through a heart like a jungle gym.  Spent the whole day there.  But, on the way home, the tire blew out or something.  Car broke down.”  
I swallowed hard now, desperate to stop reliving my worst nightmare.  “Dad got out to check it out.  Told my mom to stay put.  It was some backwoods road. There weren’t any streetlamps and the nearest gas station or house was miles away. The car phone had died on the way to the museum that morning and cell phones weren’t really a thing back then.”  
I watched as Dean shook his head, absorbing every word I’d just said.
“Wait, how long ago was this?”  
I attempted to rid myself of the giant lump that had now formed in my throat.  “I was four.”  
The look of pity on his face was heartbreaking and I had never imagined it would ever be aimed at me.
“Dad was outside maybe five minutes when we heard it.  Gnashing teeth and ripping flesh.  And this gurgling sound.  Like a clogged waterfall.” I rubbed my neck with my hand, wishing the conversation was over.  “Mom got out to help.  But she hadn’t even closed the passenger door when her head was smashed through the window. Hard enough for the blood to spray onto me in the backseat.”  
“Shit, Y/N.”  
I shook my head, dismissively. “I was four,” I shrugged.  “I didn’t even know to scream.  I just waited for it to get quiet and went and looked for my parents.”  I reached out and grabbed the cup of water that sat on my bedside table, taking a slow sip.  “Dad’s body was still on the ground by the hood.  The gurgling sound was still there.”  I looked up at Dean again.  “It was his own blood.  They’d ripped his throat open.  Too impatient or hungry I guess.  But Dad’s eyes were open.  Completely dead inside, but open, starring at me, while his corpse finished bleeding out.”
“You don’t have to-“ I cut Dean off.
“Mom was a little further away.  Her, they were quick about at least.  Snapped her neck when they bashed her head in I guess.  Still ripped her heart out though.  Left her body on the side of the road.”  
Dean stood up and took a seat on the sliver of mattress that my bent legs had left exposed at the foot of it.  His hands were running up and down my thighs in an attempt to soothe me.  
“What happened to you after that?”  
I shrugged my shoulders again.  “I wandered for a while.  The pack was long gone, and I didn’t know where we were. What to do.  Just walked.  Until I couldn’t walk anymore.”  
“Wait, you walked? Like little four-year-old you, wandering the woods alone?  How long?”
I pulled on my earlobe, yanking it between my thumb and forefinger.  “Few days I guess?  Some locals found me passed out and starving little less than a week later.” I laughed morbidly at myself.  “If I had walked ten more yards, I’d have made it to their front door.  Just my luck I guess.”  
Dean’s silence filled the room as he clenched his fingers around my knees. “I shouldn’t have made you….I’m sorry.”  I turned my head from side to side, dismissively.  
“Not your fault.  I probably should’ve told you a while ago.” I gave him a forced smile, restraining the tears that threated to get loose.  
“Well, whatever the past, you ganked ‘em in the end.  Not that I approve of how you did it, but you got them.”  
“Yeah,” I whispered.  “Sweet victory.”  My tone was insincere as I leaned the side of my face against my crossed arms.  “Dean, I’m pretty beat.”
“Yeah, of course,” he accepted.  “Get some sleep.  I’ll just head-“
“Don’t leave,” I begged, grabbing at his hands as they began to move away from me.  “Please. Stay?  I’d feel better if you stayed.”  I hadn’t realized how terrified the premise of being alone would leave me.  “I mean, only if you want to.”
Dean ran his fingers over my face, tucking in a stray bit of hair. “Always,” he whispered.
I moved to lay down, turning myself onto my side to make room as Dean spread himself over the bed. “Need me to scootch over?”
He looked at me as if I were crazy.  “It’s your bed, Y/N. And you’re the injured one.  I’m not that big of an ass.” He tucked me into his side, resting his hand on my shoulder as his arm would around me.  “Sleep.”  
I shut my eyes slowly, taking in a deep breath and filling my lungs with the distinct scent of Dean. But as soon as I began to drift off, the sing-song voice of a nurse came in declaring that moment to be the opportune time to check my vitals.  
I whined in response as she pressed a button on one of the screens resulting in the cuff around my arm to start squeezing.  “Can we be done with that?”  
Dean had gotten out of the bed but stood just next to me, continuing to hold my hand.  
“Sorry sweetie,” the nurse answered.  “Every four hours until you’re discharged.” 
“Then I’m discharged now.” I answered coldly, my eyes squinting shut.  
“Not funny,” Dean chastised, squeezing my fingers tightly.  
“Not joking,” I followed up. “I want to go home.  Now.”
I looked over to the nurse whose stunned expression told me she would not be on my team on this one.
“I mean it.  I’ll sign whatever papers I need to, do whatever. But I’m going home. Now.”  
Releasing Dean’s hand, I threw back the covers and kicked my legs off the side of the bed, quicker than I had intended.  The dizziness had me wobbling as I stood, getting onto my feet.  Instantly, he was at my side reaching to help steady me.  I held my hand up, keeping him at a distance.
“Damnit, Y/N.”  Dean muttered under his breath but just loud enough for me to hear him.  I glared at him in response.
“Leaving against medical advice is not usually a good solution.  Especially in your condition.  You’re going to need physical therapy and a lot of care.  We can provide that for you.”  The nurse was doing her best to convince me to stay, but with my mind already made up, I began opening cabinets until I found the bag with my clothes in it.  One of the boys had brought my duffle to the room for me and I quickly found a set of clothing that was clean enough.
“I get it,” I snapped back. “Not a good idea.  I’m leaving against medical advice which is obviously against medical advice.”  The frustration in my voice was tangible as I slipped a pair of black yoga pants out of the bag and began dragging them up my legs.  “Doesn’t change the fact that it’s what I’m doing.”  
The nurse breezed passed me as she muttered under her breath that she’d get the paperwork.  I pulled out my oversized nightshirt; an old white band tee for a concert that I hadn’t attended in a city that I’d most likely never been to.  But it smelled like home and wrapped me in the warmth that I so desperately craved.
“Hold this for me, will you?”  I held my duffle bag out towards Dean, expecting him to grab it but was left wanting.  Slowly, I raised my eyes to his and lifted my eyebrows, inclining my head as if to ask him what he was waiting for.
“You realize this is insane right?  What, do you have a death wish or something?”  I rolled my eyes at him in response, tossing the bag to the ground as I let go of the straps I had been holding onto and turned my attention back to the cabinets, ensuring all of my personal items were accounted for.
“I think that’s everything. I’ll sign the papers, and then we go, yeah?”  
Dean chuckled louder than I was used to as he shook his head and said, “No way.”  I looked at him expectantly, resolute with my decision.  
His amusement died down and his face grew serious as he wordlessly pulled out his phone and brought it to his ear.
“Yeah, it’s me.  Look, she’s trying to leave the hospital. Yeah,” he paused. “I know.  She’s being a stubborn ass.”  He said the words pointedly as he glared at me.  “Well then, Sammy, you try to talk some sense into her cause she’s not listening to anybody over here!”
Rolling my eyes again, I began removing the various tubes and monitors that still connected me to the machines.  The oxygen came off without a hitch, and the blood pressure cuff was simple enough.  But the IV that was plastered to the back of my hand proved more difficult.
“I’ll do it,” the nurse sighed angrily as she stormed back into the room, setting a small stack of paperwork down on the table as she did so.  Her fingers expertly pulled at the tape and removed the needle from my hand without a fuss.  “You’re going to need a ton of fluids,” she began giving me my discharge instructions as she handed the paperwork over to me.
Dean hung up the phone and began listening intently, hovering over me as he did so.
“I mean a ton of fluids. No coffee, tea, soda.  I mean water.  Electrolytes.  Fluids that aren’t caffeinated or carbonated.  There’re four prescriptions in her.  One for a very strong antibiotic, one for an anti-inflammatory drug, strong pain meds, and one to help with the nausea that the others may cause.”  She pointed out each on the paperwork as she went through it.  “Take them. All of them.”  Her intense gaze and stern tone let me know she wasn’t exaggerating.  I nodded affirmatively.
“Good,” she responded. “Bed rest for the next few days.  No strenuous movements,” she turned her gaze to Dean then. “If she pops another staple outside of the hospital, her chances of infection or bleeding out again are very, very high.”  He nodded in acceptance.
“You need to do physical therapy.  Hire a therapist, do simple exercise, use a cane, whatever you need to do.  Just keep moving a little each day.”
She turned to the last page. “This form releases the hospital from any and all liability.  It confirms that you’re aware that you’re leaving the hospital against the best of medical information and against the physician’s wishes.  You’ve every right to do so but, just so we’re clear, we think this is a very bad idea.”
I gave her a small smile. “Yes ma’am, I am.”  I picked up the pen that was laying on the table where the paperwork had been and signed my name quickly.  “All done?”
The nurse shook her head disapprovingly.  “That’s all the paperwork and you’ve already taken the liberty of disconnecting everything. I’ll go get a wheelchair and you can be on your way.”
I thanked her as she walked out of the room and could feel Dean’s eyes boring into the side of my face.
“What?” I snapped, turning my head quickly to look at him.
“You’re an idiot.”  
“So, I’ve been told. But there’s that whole thing about it takes one to know one.”  I smiled at him wickedly as I waited for the nurse to return with the wheelchair.  It only took a few minutes, and I was settled into my wheeled escort, being pushed gently through the halls towards the exit.
“Sir,” the nurse spoke up, gesturing to Dean. “You may want to run ahead and pull the car around, so she doesn’t have to wait outside long.  It gets pretty chilly a night.”  Dean did as he was asked, putting one foot in front of the other in a quick jog as his bowed legs carried him ahead and out to the parking lot.
“You’ll be the death of that boy if you keep carrying on like this you know,” the nurse joked.  “Or he’ll be the death of you.  Either way, just be careful, yeah?”  She rested her hand on my shoulder as I laughed, giving her my word.
I heard the familiar growl of the Impala’s engine pull up just outside the door as we triggered the auto sensor for the automatic sliding doors. Dean was running around the back and pulling the passenger side door open when we rolled up.  The nurse locked the wheels of the chair in place as I slowly pushed myself up to standing, using Dean’s offered arm as leverage to assist me.
The nurse handed him my folder full of paperwork which he then securely held in his hand.  “If I could get her to stay,” he began. The nurse shrugged in a what-are-you-gonna-do fashion and waved at me.  I lazily returned the goodbye as I rested my head back in my seat and reached for my seat belt. Before I could grasp it, Dean’s hand was pulling the belt across my lap, gingerly tucking it into the buckle and adjusting the belt across my lap, avoiding my injury as best as he could.
Shaking his head lightly, he slowly leaned his face towards mine, capturing my lips with his own as they worked against me.  The heat of his mouth breathed into my own as his tongue grazed the tip of mine, and the breathtaking feel of his soft, full lips against mine was dizzying. He pulled away slowly, pressing one last chaste kiss against my lips as he did.
“Keep kissing me like that, and we’re going to need to pick up one of those oxygen tanks,” I joked.
“Stubborn. Ass.”  He breathed out the accusation as he closed my door for me and walked around to the driver’s side and taking his seat.  
To be continued….
Part Ten
Taglist (Tag requests are open):
@vicmc624 @heyyy-hey-babyyy  @carissime72 @deans-baby-momma  @formulafun @woodworthti666  @yetanotherreader @crashlyrose @hobby27 @gabby913 @jxackles @polina-93 @supernaturaladdicts  @fandomoverdose666 @deans-baby-momma  @deanwanddamons @tazzi-baby  @acertainhero @lilulo-12 @slamminmine  @mimaria420 @kittenofdoomage​
(Desperate attempt to get my faves to notice me)
@thinkinghardhardlythinking
@smol-and-grumpy
@wonder-cole @watermelonlipstick @that-one-gay-girl @waywardbaby @luci-in-trenchcoats @holylulusworld @cockslut-padalecki @calaofnoldor
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mypersonmyg · 3 years ago
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don’t sweat it | myg
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pairing: yoongi x reader
genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst ig??, established relationship
rating: pg15
wc: 1.2k
warnings: some suggestive language, unedited :p
summary: your friends don’t think you spend enough time with them OR yoongi thinks you’re a distraction
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a/n: yesterday you got misery chick and today it’s reliably listeless!! i kinds wrote this a while back but never posted it for some reason, so yeah. again,,,you don’t have to read the full fic to get it, but just know it’s in that universe
[drabble masterlist]
[reliably listless]
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The fresh breeze gently glides the skin of your exposed arm, the scent of flowers in bloom wafting against your nostrils with imaginings of the petals colorful and swaying in the wind. You inhale with pleasure, nearly gagging when you’re brought from the reverie of the gym door half agape, reminded that you’re not in fact enjoying the beautiful weather of early summer but instead sitting inside watching your boyfriend play a game of pickup. The scent that greeted your inhale was not fresh flowers but the stench clinging to practice jerseys gone too long without a wash. 
You remind yourself to steal Yoongi’s from his bag while he’s showering, well aware that the stinging smell of weeks of buildup doesn’t bother him as much as it assails you and your sensitive senses. 
You draw back to the motion of the court, hands tapping at the caps of your knees not altogether following the score you were meant to be keeping but distracted by the sheen of sweat sticking Yoongi’s overgrown hair to the nape of his neck and the plains of his forehead. Your wrist itches with the neon hair tie that grips the skin, Yoongi’s nimble fingers snatching it from your hands when he caught wind of your intent to sprout his strands before he stepped onto the court. 
“You let me do it last night!” Was your baseless argument, the poke of your lips useless to sway him save for the short peck bestowed as a precursor to words that curled your toes. 
“You were the one that insisted you needed something to hold onto.” 
The words have been playing on your mind since he jogged away, immediately taken with the court, your way only graced with glances often enough to keep you on edge. You barely noticed the placement of a body to one side of you and your ears had graciously tuned out the senseless gossip falling from Seulgi’s lips from the moment her body hit the bleachers. 
“—and Hobi said he agrees you don’t spend enough time with us anymore.” This catches your attention, the smirk aimed in your direction cluing you on the knowledge that your overt ogling would not go unnoticed by the only other person not banking (or bricking) shots. 
“I spend plenty of time with you guys, Hoseok!”  
“Hobi did not say that!” His attention is drawn from where he stands at half-court, jogging his way to your seat with little to no attention being paid to the game at hand. “Seulgi said that she feels like she hasn’t seen you in years and she might throw Yoongi into a ditch soon if he doesn’t back off.” 
“Okay, well first I think you should both relax.” You mutter, eyes falling on your two friends, glaring childishly, Hoseok’s lips pulled into half sneer at being dragged in by no accord of his own. “Second, I’m sorry if I’ve been a little preoccupied but—”
“Hobi!” Jeongguk’s voice draws Hoseok’s attention with enough time for him, and you, to flinch when the ball appears to be hurtling toward the bleachers and too far over any of your heads for a hope to clutch the round menace before is bounces fiercely on the row of bleachers just a few steps higher. 
“Who was going to catch that?!” 
“You, if you were paying attention instead of talking to your girlfriends,” Jeongguk mutters, eyes rolling and hands thrown into the air with palpable annoyance. 
“Girlfriend.” Yoongi mumbles the correction, jogging over to the bleachers, ignoring the gape of betrayal Hoseok aims his way. You hop from your seat and scale the few benches to grab hold of the ball just seconds before Yoongi grabs hold of you, his chin resting against your shoulder. “I’m gonna have to stop inviting you to watch me play.” 
“Wha—I did nothing wrong!” 
“You’re distracting our players…” He hums, hands traveling the length of your arms so soft under his touch, the scent of your body somehow fighting through the stench of the humid gym. “—distracting me.”
“I’m just watching you play.” You hug the ball to your chest, aware of the heat radiating from Yoongi onto you, the sweat that coats his neck now pressed against your own. You would be lying if you said the thick moisture and panted breaths didn’t awaken you just the slightest bit, but you’re determined to prove your point. 
“Watching me play, right. So what’s the score then?” 
He’s got you and you both know it. Rather than submit to the corner pressing to your back and give Yoongi the satisfaction that seems to come naturally, you pull yourself from his hold and push the ball into his chest. 
“Ya know, I think that we—” You step past him, your attention falling on Seulgi who had taken to rummaging through your bag for the snacks that are always meticulously placed in the many pockets throughout. “—are going to go.”
“We are?” Seulgi seems less enthusiastic about spending time with you than she had just moments ago, her mouth filled with the pack of m&ms she scrounged. You wonder how she managed to acquire them still intact, the vivid memory of too long standing in the sun followed by the less than graceful squash of your bag under Jeongguk’s ass earlier in the day concerning to say the least. “But I just found a snack.”
“Well, we can go get a snack if you just…hey! Are you even listening to me?!” You don’t need her to respond when your neck cranes to encapsulate the landscape that has her attention tied and mouth hanging open, half chewed candy all but forgotten between her lips. 
Her sudden eagerness to participate in the remainder of whatever game is left to play is clear in the painting of perfection, shirts flying overhead to combat the sweat soaking tan skin. An ad too picture perfect for any moving picture and too annoying for your wandering eyes to properly enjoy, though the flattening of Yoongi’s half smirk is not forgotten in your periphery.
You snort, the irony of the situation not lost on you as you sling your bag over your shoulder. 
“Come on, I’m kidding.” Yoongi tosses the ball to Jeongguk, tugging you into him once more, his lips pressing to your cheeks despite the impatient mutterings from the court. “I love it when you distract me.” 
“Oh no,” You whirl on him, his lips spread in a goofy grin, unbothered yet entertained by your sudden attitude. “You do not get to do that!” 
“Do what?” 
“Be all cute boyfriend and expect me to just...forgive you.” 
“But I am sorry, what am I supposed to do without my number one cheerleader?” He pouts, eyes reflecting in pale fluorescents. 
“Lucky you, Namjoon is still here so you don’t have to worry about it. Come on!” Your arm hooks the crook of Seulgi’s, tongue shooting in Yoongi’s direction where he stands with his hands perched on his hips.
“Where exactly are you going?” 
“I was thinking that I’d go distract someone else!” The words are spoken loud enough for Yoongi to hear, but your eyes are too zeroed on the exit to note the disappointed look that befalls his features before he rushes back to the court. 
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excelsi-or · 4 years ago
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your type (pt. 6)
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Hiiii friends, it’s only been like two weeks! Pretty good in terms of posting for me lol. I don’t know what it is about this story in particular, but I feel so self-conscious about posting new parts. But I’m also not someone who likes to leave things half finished.
I hope you’re all doing well :) 
BIPOC recs: I actually have a few! Two books: Kim Jiyoung, Born 1982 - Cho Namjoo (basically follows a woman’s life in South Korea and all the micro-oppressive things that women face in their personal and career lives); Winners Take All - Anand Giridharadas (a non-fiction about how billionaires create such a disproportionate world for us all; I love listening to Anand’s talks about this subject. I find it fascinating). Music: Cross Country - Breland (excellent country song); Boyz II Men - Kirby (I love this woman’s energy)
w.c. 2.6k
pairing: jihoon x OC/reader
pt. 1; pt. 2; pt. 3; pt. 4; pt. 5
The summer semester has her in the research lab 8 hours a day. Luckily, Jihoon is also on campus for just as long. His professor got him a gig working on music for a few groups in various companies. It helps get his foot in the door, and while the deadlines are tight, he genuinely enjoys working.
They take their lunch breaks together, wandering the green or just wandering hallways if it’s too warm outside. But since he doesn’t have other classes, Jihoon’s been chatting with a few girls he’s met.
And he’s told her all about them, so she isn’t blindsided if someone else decides to share it with her.
“How was your date last night?” she asks at lunch.
Jihoon shrugs. The girl had come over since Seungcheol was at Jihyo’s. “She was whatever.”
She lifts an eyebrow, eating the sandwich that Seungkwan made for her lunch. She’s now taken to spending the night at Seungkwan and Hansol’s when Seungcheol visits.
Jihoon sighs. “Jiwoo was uninteresting.” When she has no response to this, he pouts. “She didn’t really have any opinions on anything, so we couldn’t find anything to talk about.”
“But you didn’t just go for dinner.”
“She was fine in bed.” Jihoon shrugs. “Didn’t really tell me what she liked, so hard to say how she felt about it.”
“Ahh.”
“What does that mean?”
She pops the rest of her sandwich in her mouth. “I don’t really know how to continue from that.”
Jihoon snorts. “Well, you’re the one who asked.”
She thinks for a minute. “Are you just saying she was uninteresting?” She kicks him lightly under the table. “Did you listen to her?”
“Of course I did!” Jihoon sips his coffee. “You said that I need to look at people more,” he makes a point of staring at her, “and to be aware of my body language because it comes off as standoffish.”
“And still?”
“All she talked about was her dog. I love talking about people’s dogs, but not for two hours.”
“Dinner was two hours?”
Jihoon shakes his head in frustration. “The kitchen kept getting the order wrong. Anyway, enough about my failed date, how’s your research going?” He pushes a napkin towards her.
She pulls out the pencil she was using to hold her hair up. Her hair cascades around her and she begins sketching out her reaction. While Jihoon hasn’t quite learned all the chemistry terminology, he recognizes various things, specifically the compounds she’s working on. She’d taught him some basics about catalytic testing, using drawings to help him follow along.
Multiple times she’s insisted that her research is really boring, especially for people who aren’t in science. But Jihoon likes listening to her talk, and her research lets her dominate the conversation. He asks questions and clarification, and she’s always great at simplifying things.
Jihoon has learned that her amazing attention to detail translates well to analyzing his songs. And she’s always very honest about the parts she likes and doesn’t like.
“I have some finished works I want your opinion on.” They start to clean up their table.
She glances up at him. “You don’t have a date tonight?”
Jihoon waits for her to fall into step with him. “I do, but I also have deadlines. So, if you’re not tired later, meet me in the studio?”
She waves goodbye to him. “I’ll let you know where I’m at.” She waits for him to exit the building before going to put her earphones in. As she’s heading to the stairs, she sees Seulgi heading towards her. They cross paths in the chemistry labs, but have never been on real speaking terms.
She smiles at Seulgi, about to go around her like normal, when the woman asks, “Are you and Jihoon dating?”
Despite her earphones in, she does hear the question. She turns. “Uhm, no.” She pauses and Seulgi says nothing. “Why?”
“I just…” Seulgi gives her a once over. “You seem too nice to be dating Jihoon.”
She’s taken aback by that observation. While Jihoon has given off the hot-cold vibe, player energy, and a slight lack of communication skills, she can’t say Jihoon’s ever warranted a comment like that. “We’re just…” She tries to come up with a word. “We’re just friends.”
“You’re smart.” Seulgi seems to mull something over. “But smart girls like you have fallen for his charm.”
“Like… you?”
“Once, but I’m not talking about me here. I’m talking about my friend.”
This piques her interest more than she wishes it did. Jihyo has warned her against listening to all these testimonials of women dating Jihoon.
“Maybe you just need to give the man a solid chance. If you’re gonna spend all your time with him anyway.”
Against Jihyo’s advice, she asks, “What happened to your friend?”
“Jihoon broke her heart. He doted on her and from the sounds of it, worshipped her, but then all of a sudden, he went cold. Stopped answering messages, stopped picking up the phone, avoiding her in the hallways. Then he said���”
“‘I’m ignoring you now, please leave me alone?’”
Seulgi tips her head. “Have you talked to Wendy?”
She runs her tongue along her bottom teeth. “No. I haven’t.”
“So how did you—?”
“I met another girl he’s dated. And… he’s a creature of habit, so… figured he’d say something similar.”
Seulgi hums. “Well, Wendy refuses to see any other man now. But she’s fine, mostly. We just can’t mention Jihoon around her. So, just…”
“Be careful?”
Seulgi chuckles. “So you’ve heard the warnings before?”
“A couple times.” Under her breath, she mutters, “Maybe I should heed them more.” She gives Seulgi a friendly nudge as she walks away. “Thanks for the warning.”
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“Is everything okay?”
Jihoon received her text around 4:30, saying that she wasn’t feeling well and would go straight home after she was done in lab.
“Yeah, I’m just… I think I’m getting sick.”
She had seemed fine when he saw her.
“Okay, I’ll walk you home then.”
There’s a long pause. “I actually caught up with Taehyung, Jungkook’s boyfriend? He said he would walk me home.”
Jihoon turns in his chair at this odd development. “Oh. Okay. Well, I’ll… see you tomorrow then.”
“Bye.” Almost like an afterthought, she adds, “Sorry.”
Jihoon turns back to stare at the pieces of work he has open in the task bar that he wanted to show her. Instead, he closes them and goes back to work.
Time passes without him realizing. Before he knows it, it’s time for him to meet up with Ara. He glances at the clock, thinking.
Jihoon (19:14)
Meet me at the gym?
Jihoon (19:14)
Hey, don’t think I’ll be able to make it tonight. Caught a cold.
Soonyoung (19:15)
Sure. See you in 10.
Mingyu (19:15)
I’m in.
Ara (19:15)
If I didn’t know better, I’d assume you have another woman in mind.
But okay.
Get well soon, babe.
True to their word, Mingyu and Soonyoung meet him at the gym near their homes. Soonyoung leads the way inside and they go stretch while Jihoon disappears to change.
When he reemerges, Mingyu asks him what’s wrong.
“She cancelled on me.”
“Who?” Soonyoung is stretching on his right.
Jihoon crosses his right arm across his body, feels the stretch in his upper delt and across his arm. He updates them on what’s happened in the last 7 hours, from lunch, to her saying she’s sick, to Ara.
Mingyu frowns. “I didn’t realize you two were still going on dates. I thought you’d already gotten to the… dating part of dating.”
“Wait,” Soonyoung seems to realize something, “are you seeing other women right now? We cannot win this bet unless you commit!”
Mingyu observes Jihoon in the mirror. He has a dazed look in his eye, as if he’s thinking hard about something. “You actually like her.” He turns to Jihoon. “You’re genuinely upset that she didn’t come to the studio.”
Jihoon wasn’t really frowning before, but he is now. “No. I’m not.”
“Wonwoo hyung said that he thought you were seeing other women again.” Mingyu turns back to the mirror. “I said that couldn’t be possible, because you don’t like to lose.”
“Can we just work out?” His tone is harsh, but his friends hear a small plea in there too. They exchange looks over Jihoon’s head and shrug.
“Yeah, let’s go.” Soonyoung nudges him towards the free weights.
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It isn’t until after their gym session on their way home that Soonyoung and Mingyu begin grilling him.
“Are you seeing other women right now?” Mingyu asks.
“Well…” Jihoon adjusts his bag on his shoulder. “Yeah.”
Soonyoung and Mingyu’s jaws drop.
“Dude. The bet.” Soonyoung gives him a push. “What if she finds out?”
Jihoon watches his feet move beneath him. “She already knows.”
“She knows? And she still goes out with you?” Mingyu demands. “Are you guys just friends?”
Soonyoung groans in frustration. “Seriously, Jihoon, bets are serious business. We went all in on this bet. You can’t just let Seokmin win a bet like this.”
“What happened, hyung?”
The question seems to release something in Jihoon. He throws his hands up in frustration. “I don’t know. I really don’t. She just… holds herself at a distance from me. I can’t seem to…” He makes grabbing motions in the air. “Get anything out of her.” He shakes his head. “Maybe we should just give up here. I don’t know if I can win this bet.”
“Yah!” Soonyoung throws an arm around his shoulders. He squeezes his arm. “I am not losing to Seokmin and Seungkwan on a bet that I know that we can win. You are the best at this.”
“She’s just as good at keeping me at a distance. And apparently she’s also had men castrated before.”
Mingyu and Soonyoung blink in surprise at the sudden information.
“Okay, well, we’re not going to let that happen to you,” Mingyu states.
Soonyoung agrees. “But you’re going to have to start pulling out al your moves. You—”
Jihoon shakes his head. “Listen to me. I have been at this since February. The girl won’t even let me kiss her.”
Mingyu scoffs. “You haven’t even kissed her yet? You guys are just friends.”
Soonyoung holds a hand up in Mingyu’s face. “You are not being encouraging.” He readjusts his grip around Jihoon. “Look. We’ll help you then. Lee Jihoon doesn’t tap out like this.”
“You said she canceled on you.” Mingyu tips his chin in Jihoon’s direction. “Why?”
“She said she was sick and found someone else to walk her home.”
Soonyoung’s eyes widen. He releases his grip on Jihoon to get a better look at his face. “That’s it?”
Jihoon scowls. “Did I not tell you that I haven’t even kissed her yet? I eat lunch with her every day and then I walk her home.”
“Are we in the 1700s? What the fuck?” Mingyu demands.
“I can’t work out what makes her tick. She tells me stuff about herself, but nothing I can use. All I’ve learned is that she’s one of the smartest people I know, reads a lot, paints, and can give me actual feedback on my music.”
“Oh, come on, that can’t be all you’ve learned.”
Jihoon sighs, racking his brain for more information. There are obviously little things he’s noticed, like that she drinks a shit ton of water; that when she thinks something’s amusing, she lets out a little breath of laughter; or that she presses down on her fingers with her thumbs when she’s nervous. But he can’t share these things. They aren’t useful.
“I’ve learned she hasn’t really dated anyone since Byunggu. That she doesn’t even count that guy as a boyfriend so Jungkook is the last man she dated.”
“Byunggu… why do I know that name?” Soonyoung looks to Mingyu.
“Because he’s the guy who’s either been threatened, murdered or castrated,” Jihoon grumbles.
Soonyoung waves him off. “No.” He reaches behind Jihoon to hit Mingyu’s arm. “Isn’t he that guy who debuted last year?”
Mingyu’s brow furrows.
“He stopped coming to parties because he was filming some show or something, remember?” He pushes Mingyu, as if that will jog his memory. “He was one of your girls’ friends. Remember? She wouldn’t stop talking about him? That’s why you dumped her?”
“Oh! Yeah!” Mingyu pulls his phone out and looks something up. When he turns the phone to Jihoon, Jihoon squints at an article about this man who is currently doing small roles in various dramas. He doesn’t recognize the face. But until this point, he’d never seen any photos of this elusive ex. A debut would explain why he disappeared into thin air.
“What am I supposed to do with this information?” Jihoon pushes the phone away. “She clams up as soon as he comes up.”
“Okay, okay. Forget trying to replicate the men of the past.” Soonyoung says. “Just… be you.”
Jihoon stares at him in disbelief. “She doesn’t like me.”
“She must, because she’s spent a lot of time with you, hyung.” Mingyu sips from his water bottle. “Noona only gives certain people her time, if you haven’t noticed. Her girls, Hansol, Seungkwan, Wonwoo hyung these days.” He shrugs. “If you’re spending so much time with her, she likes you at least a little bit.”
Jihoon bites his tongue, annoyed that they’re right. “I’m only going to give this another month. If I can’t get this girl into my bed, then there’s no way she’s going to say ‘I love you’ first.”
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“Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?” Jihyo asks.
The two roommates are having a night in, watching a movie but talking the entire time with take out on the table.
She came home looking preoccupied, so Jihyo forced her to put on her pajamas, pick what sort of take out they would eat, and to bundle up on the couch. Then she forced her roommate to tell her what was wrong.
“I don’t know. Do you think it’s a sign that two different women have told me I should be careful?” She pouts. “I don’t want to feel like I need to tread carefully.”
“I don’t know what Jihoon was like with those other girls, but he likes you. I know what a guy looks like when all he wants is to get you into his bed. That look on Jihoon’s face when he sees you is pure adoration.”
She carefully breaks apart a cookie before popping a piece into her mouth. “If anything, Jihoon’s just a friend.”
“A friend who adores you. Who you also seem to like.” Jihyo nudges her with the back of her hand. “You can’t go around thinking every boy is going to hurt you like Byunggu.”
“I don’t think that. Why would I think that if I don’t even give them a chance to try?”
Jihyo snorts, both amused and frustrated. “Jihoon is putting in the effort with you. You didn’t even give him your number for like a month and a half. And he still made it work.”
“I did that to keep him away from me.” She rolls her eyes, a slight smile on her face. “So, thanks for helping him out with that.”
“You still hang out with him.”
“You know, he’s seeing other girls now.”
Jihyo pauses. “Really?”
“He tells me about them. He had a date yesterday. He has one tonight.” She shakes her head. “I think it’s just better for me if we stay friends.” She notices Jihyo on her phone. “What are you doing now?”
“Asking Cheollie if Jihoon’s home.” Jihyo turns her phone her way, grinning. Seungcheol had sent a picture of Jihoon next to him on the couch. The two seem to be playing video games. “Give the man a chance. You don’t know what kind of boyfriend he can be if you don’t.”
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adhdashketchum · 4 years ago
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ADHD Ash Ketchum: Canon Evidence
So, I’ve been thinking a lot about Ash being very heavily ADHD coded, and, after some of my mutuals have expressed interest in my nonsensical ramblings about this topic, I finally sat myself down and wrote this out. This is probably going to be long, so I’ll put it under Read More. Warning: this is going to be very text heavy with lots of links! Sorry about that in advance ^.^
Ash is incredibly one-track minded: for example, his goal is always to travel to the next town and win his next Badge so he can get into the League. It’s a very physical, easy to see and follow course. There isn’t much planning beyond get to the next Gym for the next battle. This can actually be seen multiple times throughout the series (here is one example), as he has a tendency to beeline directly to Gyms, or to start walking without even knowing where the Gym is located.
On a sidenote, his goal of becoming a Pokemon Master is very vague, and although this has been stated to be because it’s literally the goal of a child, representing a childlike fantasy, it can also be seen from an ADHD point of view. It makes sense in Ash’s brain, and it’s vague enough that he doesn’t have to put much thought into it. It’s also clear that there’s not many limits to his dream, such as time constraints, that the ADHD mind doesn’t consider.
Hyperfixates on battles, to the point where he becomes impatient and visibly upset when he can’t immediately battle the Gym leader or is somehow delayed. Furthermore, because battling is so important to him, he gets upset in situations like the one with Skyla in BW (for those who don’t know, Skyla started doing what she called “Air Battles,” where she just decided based on match-ups whether she thought she would win the battle or not, and gave out badges that way) or Volkner in DP (Volkner lost interest in battles and instead was just letting anyone take a badge if they wanted one).
Ash is a very creative thinker, and his battling style reflects this. He wins many battles by thinking outside of the box and using things like the terrain or even his oppponent’s own moves against them in surprising ways. This is commented on by many different characters fairly often.
Although Ash is an amazing battler, he isn’t too good at classwork/deskwork (see my post here for a specific example of this). Ash also is very hands-on when it comes to learning, and is much better with visuals than audio cues. He sometimes doesn’t understand concepts when they’re explained to him without a visual aid.
Also a good note, he’s an incredibly quick learner and thinks very well on his feet and while under pressure. His ability to turn the tides during battles stems from his ability to analyze situations and respond to them in unique ways, which ties back to point 3.
Ash also teaches in a hands-on style, and often relates to/understands and even trains Pokemon by acting out their movements or using himself as an example.
In addition to the above point, Ash is also easily distracted and can’t sit still very well. The post (and response) here give an example of this. Ash gets bored easily; he gets sidetracked; and, perhaps most importantly, he wanders. A lot. Alola is unique in that it’s the first time Ash hasn’t travelled throughout a region and has instead stayed in relatively one area the whole season, and even then he does things like travel to Treasure Island with Pikachu because he’s bored and wants to do something. Ash needs constant stimulation, and he gets this through traveling and being constantly on the move.
Ash is very expressive, using his face and sometimes his whole body to make gestures and react to his surroundings. He emotes very clearly and almost loudly, and his emotions can often jump drastically in a short time. He’s very excitable, and he even stims. Here and here are two more examples of excitable/stimming behavior, as well as in a different episode of Sun and Moon (which is very good at showing his ADHD traits) where he gets so excited about something that he flaps his hands. 
He’s incredibly impulsive. It’s a defining characteristic of his. He’s stubborn as shit and impulsive as fuck. He’s always ready to defend his friends and his Pokemon and regularly risks his life for them, as well as just being down to fight in general. Do I need to go on?
Rejection sensitivity dysphoria, especially in relation to his Pokemon. Often times, after losing a big battle, such as the one with Wulfric in XY or the one against Paul in DP, Ash gets upset and sinks into a sort of depressive state. He expresses the feeling of letting his team down, and he takes losses very personally, even when logically he shouldn’t. His Pokemon always snap him out of this state by reassuring him that they don’t blame him for their loss, and that they still love and support him no matter what. This is an obvious sign of rejection sensitivity disorder, wherein Ash is afraid that, after big losses, his Pokemon no longer respect him and don’t want to be his friends anymore or battle with him, despite all evidence pointing to the fact that they all love him dearly and would never abandon him like that.
All of this is just what I can remember off the top of my head, and I’m sure there’s plenty more evidence that I’ve missed. Please feel free to add more as you see fit, and thanks for reading this far!
By the way, click here for another post about Ash’s ADHD and autistic traits. It’s relatively short but a very good read nontheless!
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softboywriting · 5 years ago
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Fight For You | Part 1
Summary: Your whole adult life you’ve dated mixed martial arts fighters, it comes naturally with working and living in and around the fighting circuits. After a fallout with your now ex-boyfriend you find a new place to start a new life where you find someone who is willing to fight for you as much as you are for him. Will you be able to build something beautiful or will your past come back to haunt you? [fighting] [asshole ex]
Word Count: 13k
Authors Note:  None of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics on any platform.
|Masterlist In Bio|
Moving to a new town in a new state is a fresh start for you. After a rough year dealing with an asshole boyfriend, leaving said boyfriend and losing your job, you have to find a new place in life. The world is a clean slate for you and Red Lake is where you’re ready to put down some roots and start over. Your best friend Jodi and her wife live there and they’re the closest thing to a real family you have left so choosing Red Lake was a no brainer.
"So, how's the apartment?" Jodi asks as she unlocks the back door of the gym where she works. Her wife Harlow is the owner and a former female MMA fighter. "It's not too shitty I hope."
"Oh I didn't get the apartment. I got the house on Garden Plaza. The one Harlow said her friend was renting out."
"Oh yeah! Fuck, I totally forgot." Jodi holds the door open for you and you wander into the back storage room. It's full of old mats and various pieces of equipment in need of repair. "When does the truck arrive with your stuff?"
"This week. The drivers said tomorrow but I'm not counting on it."
Jodi pushes open the door to the main hallway to the gym floor and nearly smacks into someone. "Holy shit!" She leans on the door and you step forward to see who she hit or just got scared by.
"Are you okay?" A voice says from beyond the door and a head pops out. "Sorry Jodi."
"God! Why are you here so early!" Jodi asks, ushering you out into the hall. She closes the door and you see a guy in a fitted black shirt and a pair of grey sweats standing behind the door. He's oddly familiar.
"Harlow asked me to come in and...wipe down the mats." The guy stares at you and you stare back. You know him. Those chocolate curls, soft eyes, and sharp jawline are unmistakably familiar. You just can't put your finger on it.
Jodi waves her hand in front of his face. "Shawn? Earth to Shawnie boy!"
Shawn Pierce. Shit, yeah it's coming back to you. Tate trained with him about a year ago when he was trying to get into the western region MMA championship circuit. You were never properly introduced but you did talk a few times. Tate didn't bring you by the gym a lot, he claimed you distracted him.
"You're Tate Greyson's girlfriend right?"
"Ex." Jodi snorts and you shove her shoulder. Shawn raises his eyebrows.
"I was, yes. We're not together anymore." You chuckle and shake your head. "Not that we were ever that together in the first place."
Shawn narrows his eyes at you and you shift uncomfortably. "Did he hit you?"
"What?" Your eyes go wide.
"The bruise on your collarbone."
Jodi leans in and pulls your shirt aside a little bit. "Oh shit, what happened?"
Suddenly you remember the bruise in question. You had fallen off the step ladder in your apartment back home while taking down your plant hangers. "I fell while packing up my apartment." You pull your shirt back to show Jodi more of the yellowing bruise. "I swear Tate never hit me. It's been months since I've seen him."
"Oh thank God." Jodi sighs and pulls out her keys. "I'd kill him myself if he touched you."
Shawn steps back and rubs his neck awkwardly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed anything."
You lean against the wall as Jodi walks up the stairs to her office door. "No, it's fine. Tate is a bit of a loose cannon, but he never hit me."
"Yeah, he was a tough one." Shawn folds his arms, stretching the tee across his chest and you can't help but stare. He shakes his head. "He never did like to listen, always just wanted to swing hard and fast, no finesse."
"Should have seen him in bed. Same tactic."
Shawn's eyes widen and you realize you didn't really need to tell him that. You flush and he just laughs. "Man he must have pissed you off if you're out here dragging him like this."
"Yeah he did." You roll your eyes at the thought of Tate. Everything he did pissed you off. Silence falls between the two of you and you push off the wall. "I'll see you around?"
"I'm here just about every day." He puts his hand out for you awkwardly and you take it, giving an oddly formal shake. "Are you going to be here a lot?"
"Dunno. I got a job at Dixie's down the street but I work nights. So I might come around a bit."
Shawn drops your hand and runs his hand over his hair. "A waitress?"
"Bartender." You smirk and he grins. "You can stop by, I make a good gin and tonic. I'm allowed discounts for family and friends."
"I'm a friend then, eh?"
"Oh I'm sure you'll be a friend." You look him over and bite your lip. "Maybe more."
Shawn grins and you can't miss the pink that spreads across his cheeks. "You're bold. I like that." He steps back and turns to go out to the main floor. "I should get back to those mats now."
"Mmmhmm." You wave him off. "See ya."
Jodi clicks her tongue and you steps out of her office. "You are so predictable." She says from the top of the stairs.
You jog up to meet her and give her a look. "What? Because I think he's hot?"
"No, because he's a fighter." Jodi rolls her eyes and sinks into her chair as you follow her into the large room. "You only date fighters."
"Says the woman who married one!"
"Hey, I don't count. Harlow is the only fighter I ever dated and I didn't even know she was a fighter when we started going out."
You roll your eyes. "Whatever. So I got a type. Whoopty do."
"At least Shawn's a good one."
"You saying I have poor taste?"
Jodi picks up a few large envelopes and stares at you over them. "You're joking right? Tate? Remember that hot garbage of a few months ago?"
"Yeah but Chase before him wasn't garbage."
"Chase was a two month fling while you worked the circuit with me. Was he ever anything?"
You flop down onto the couch under the window that overlooks the gym. "I guess not. So what, Shawn's a fighter and I like fighters. Maybe he'll be a keeper."
"Ex fighter."
"Hmm?"
"Shawn's an ex fighter." Jodi types aways at her computer and you wait for her to continue. "He doesn't fight anymore. What?"
"He doesn't? Why? He looked healthy."
"Personal choice. Harlow has been trying to book him on the circuit for years. He keeps in shape and trains other fighters for Harlow but he's not getting in that ring for anything. It's a shame, he was a two time champion."
You look out the window to where Shawn is running along the mats on the far side of the gym with a towel. You wonder what made him stop competing. A guy like him could take out anyone his weight. No doubt. You'd seen him spare with Tate once when he trained with him. Shawn has the skill, what would drive him to waste it?
_____________________
Dixie's is a hole in the wall kind of place. Definitely a local spot and everyone in town goes there. It's a bar and restaurant that serves your classic American staples, burgers, fries, steak and sandwiches. Nothing fancy, but the food is good and homemade. The day time crowd at Dixie's is mostly families, regular customers on their lunch breaks or afternoon meetups, occasionally a truck driver or two since it's on the edge of the town. The night time crowd at Dixie's is much different, very adult orientated. They didn't let kids in after eight since that's when most of the drunks and party goers start showing up. Most people know to avoid Dixie's for a late dinner lest you be caught up in a fight or have to listen to some guy babble on about the good ole days for four hours.
You work the night shift at the bar. You don't mind, you tended places much worse. Hell, you lived in Vegas for a year after graduation and that's where you learned to bartend. When you're raised in hell, the rest of the world doesn't seem so bad.
"Hey! You made it!" Carrie says from the door to the kitchen. "I was worried you wouldn't come back after last week."
"What? Greg? Please, I've dealt with a lot worse then having a drink thrown at me and being called a raging bitch." You place your purse under the counter behind the bar in a little safe. Carrie didn't fuck around when it came to safety and personal belongings in her bar.
"Oh thank God. Greg is an asshole but if you made it through the night with him I think you'll be alright."
"I worked in Vegas, Carrie." You grab your apron off the wall beside her. "I've seen shit. Greg, ain't shit."
Carrie looks incredibly relieved. "I've had four bartenders walk out because of him."
"Yeah, well, they weren't me." You wave to one of the waitresses, Sammy, coming in for her shift. The two of you hit it off really well last week so you're excited to work with her tonight."Besides, I'd like to stick around."
Carrie pushes open the kitchen door and you follow her in. "Oh yeah? Find a love interest?"
"I don't think I'd call him that yet. But I'm definitely interested." You grab a few plates off the warming table to help Carrie serve them. "We've met before."
"Oh wow, coincidence huh? You just moved here right?"
"Yeah. It's so weird, but he's a fighter who trained with my ex boyfriend a year ago. I guess I'm bound to meet people from the same circuit."
Carrie chuckles and leads the way with her arms full of plates. "You like those fighters huh? We got a lot of those type around here."
"I do." You fall silent as you help Carrie serve the large group of middle aged people at the front of the seating area. As soon as you're done Carrie walks with you to the bar.
"Anyway, those fighters are always coming in here. I don't mind the business of course, they eat a lot. But some of them also drink alot and bar fights between fighters is a nightmare."
"Don't worry, I can handle them." You wipe out some glasses on the drying station and Carrie starts going through the liquor stock to see what she needs to bring out of the back for the night. "I swear, I'm sticking around."
Carrie pauses and looks over at you. "You seem pretty set on it."
"Yeah, I am. Things are good here. I have my own place, I'm near my best friend, there's a hot fighter who I wanna get to know. It's good. A fresh start."
"I'm happy for you dear." Her hand comes down on your shoulder and you look over at her. She's smiling, her big round glasses sitting too low on her nose. She blows a stray curl out of her face and pats your shoulder a few times. "You're a good kid."
"I try to be." You chuckle. "Anyway, looks like it's kicking off early tonight." You point at a group of guys who have just walked in, some fighters by the looks of them. Out of circuit fighters, the kind who drink too much and let their bodies get weakened by alcohol. You scoff to yourself. Frat boys with too many muscles and big dreams but no dedication. A bunch of Tate Greysons'. It's gonna be a long night.
___________________
"Pierce! Focus!" Harlow yells from the office doorway at the top of the stairs. Shawn is standing in the ring with his client for the day but he keeps looking over at you where you're talking to Jodi near the bathrooms.
You look over and bite your lip, knowing you got him in trouble. "Anyways, as I was saying," you turn back to Jodi and she's grinning. "What?"
"Harlow is gonna kick his ass if he doesn't stop gawking at you." She looks up at her wife through the window and she's pacing the office, watching Shawn like a hawk. "You're quite a distraction."
"I don't mean to be. I'm just standing here for fucks sake." You gesture to your jeans and plain tee shirt. "I'm not even dressed up!"
Jodi laughs. "Shawn's just soft, he's got your attention and he doesn't want to lose it. I don't know the last time he had a girlfriend."
"Really?" You look back. "A guy like him has been single for-" Shawn gets clocked in the head. "Oh shit."
Jodi sighs. "Moron."
You jog over to the ring and hold onto the cage, staring at Shawn on the ground. "Are you okay?!"
"Dude, you went down like a sack of bricks." The other fighter says, kneeling on one knee beside Shawn. "Dude?"
"Is he knocked out?" You ask, walking along the ring to climb the stairs at the open entryway. "Shawn?"
"I haven't been hit that hard in years." Shawn groans, eyes closed. "Good left hook, Connor."
"Thanks, but for real are you okay?"
"I'm fine." Shawn sits up and holds his head. "Y'know no matter how many fights you're in, and how much training you do, getting hit hurts worse when you're not expecting it."
"Getting hit hurts in general." You laugh and help him up on his feet. "And you would have expected it if you weren't staring at me."  
Connor snickers.
"I was not staring." Shawn stretches his arms and shakes off the hit.
"Yeah? Why'd you get hit then?"
"We're sparing."
"Uh huh." You look to Connor. "Did he seem distracted?"
"Very."
"Mmm thought so." You turn and walk out of the cage with a glance back with a small smile.
Shawn calls out to you as you cross the gym floor. "Wait, what's that supposed to mean?!"
"Stop staring at me and actually talk to me is what it means!" You laugh and meet up with Jodi outside the office. "God he's ridiculous."
"He hasn't asked you out yet?"
"No! It's been a week since we met. He just stares at me when I'm here and occasionally says no more than four words to me." You glance over and Shawn and Connor have changed positions so Shawn is with his back to you. "I think he's shy."
"Shawn? Nah. He's sweet, always has been. I think he's just cautious because he knows you just got out of a relationship, and one with a former trainee of his too. I'd be cautious."
"Well light a fire under his ass for me will you?"
Jodi gives you a thumbs up. "I'll get right on that boss. Matchmaker Jodi Price is on the case!"
"Oh shut up. Just talk to him?"
"I will." Jodi grabs her keys from Harlow as she steps out of the office. "We'll be back later honey."
"I'll pick up dinner." Harlow looks out at Connor and Shawn. "If I'm late it's because I've got two man-children to deal with."
"Easy on him. He's got feelings for our girl here."
Harlow rolls her eyes. "I don't pay him to have feelings."
"You're such a hardass, Harlow." You laugh and she smirks. "I promise I'll try not to stop in too much when he's training Connor."
"Yeah yeah." Harlow waves you off. "Get out of here, go have fun."
"Picking up furniture at Ikea isn't fun." Jodi says in annoyance.
"Mmhmm. Sure its not. Bye bye." Harlow walks toward the window to the gym floor and you wave goodbye.
"Come on." You put your arm around Jodi's shoulders. "Let's go build some skeptical furniture and relive the good ole days."
Jodi laughs. "Yeah, the good ole days of duct taped chair legs and book balanced tables. God I hope these Ikea things will be better than our crap back then."
"I'm sure it'll be fine."
_____________________
Building furniture is a nightmare. You and Jodi spend an hour putting together a dresser that you end up abandoning in favor of Chinese take out and a rerun of Chopped you hadn't seen before while sitting on the boxes for your nightstand and kitchen cart. You still have both of those items plus your bed frame to build. You'll get to it eventually.
Eventually leads to three days later and you still have the boxes propped against the wall of your living room where you and Jodi abandoned them after dinner. Every day you walk past them and think, maybe that day, but then you keep going. It's not until today, Friday, your day off, that you might actually get them built.
"Hey, what're you doing tonight?" Shawn asks as he steps down out of the cage. You've been watching him spar with one of the other trainers for an hour now after stopping by to help Jodi read over some paperwork for the gyms lease.
"Me?"
He grins. "Yeah, you."
"Building furniture for my house."
He chuckles and sinks into the chair next to you, observing two fighters now sparing on the mats nearby. "Sounds like a wild time."
"Oh it will be. I'll probably decide to get drunk halfway through and just say fuck it again." You laugh to yourself. "Drunk lonely furniture building on a Friday night. I've reached my peak at age twenty four."
"Need some help?" Shawn looks over and you raise your eyebrows. He is really making a move. Finally.
"You sure you don't have some floors to clean or something?" You ask, referencing the last time he tried to get out of your attempt to instigate a date. He is a weird one, definitely interested but hesitant for some reason. You get what Jodi said, about him being cautious because of your past with Tate but it's been almost five months. You're ready to move the fuck on. You gotta make it clear to this man you're ready.
Shawn smiles and looks away. "Okay, fair enough. Just call me out why don't you?"
"Yeah? You realize you've been dragging this out?"
"Yeah yeah. So can I come over?"
You grin and cross your arms. "I guess. What do you drink?"
"Tequila?" He says with a smirk as he starts unwrapping his hands.
"I'm not buying tequila. I don't know about you but tequila fucks me up and I will make some bad decisions."
"Me too, maybe we should go for it then."
"Absolutely not." You reach over and grab Shawn's hand as he picks at a piece of the fabric that's tucked too tightly under another. "How about we just start with some hard lemonade or something?"
Shawn smiles and closes his big hand over yours. "It's a date then?"
"Is it a date?"
"Could be."
"Let's just call it hanging out for now." You place the coiled up wad of wrapping fabric in Shawn's hand. "Now, I'm going to get lunch at Dixie's. You want something?"
"Nah, I brought lunch." Shawn looks over at the sitting area where Harlow has set up a refrigerator, a stand with a microwave and a few little tables with chairs. "Leftover chicken and rice."
You stand and Shawn stands with you. He flexes his hand a few times to work out the stiffness of it being bound too tight in the wrapping. You head for the office stairs to see if the ladies want lunch too. "I'll let you know when I'm heading home so you can follow me."
"Works for me."
"Oh, and don't wrap your hand so tight next time." You point at his hand. "You should know better."
Shawn grins sheepishly. "Maybe someone else should wrap it for me?"
"Maybe." You smile and he just grins.
_____________________
"Hey Jodi have you seen- oh." Shawn leans against the door as he looks between you and Jodi on the couch in the office. It's almost seven and you had completely lost track of time.
"Yeah?"
"Whatcha doing?"
Jodi holds her half wrapped hand up to show Shawn. "Teaching her to wrap."
Shawn smirks. "Your ex never taught you?"
"Tate didn't like having me around too much when he was fighting. He said I distracted him. So I didn't get to wrap his hands but once or twice."
"What a dick. Well I'm done cleaning up for the day, are you ready to go?"
Jodi raises her eyebrows. "Y'all have a date? And you didn't tell me?"
"It's not a date." You roll your eyes. "He's just going to help me with the furniture."
"So he's gonna be at your house with you alone?"
"Yes." You stand and Jodi unwinds her hand. "Now don't say another word missy." Jodi just snickers and you grab your purse. "Let's go Shawn."
An hour into furniture building and you're sure you're going to combust. Shawn is so big and thick, and close. He's in a pair of tight black jeans and a black tank top, having forgone his shirt almost as soon as you started working. He is just...he's too much. You thought Tate was big, you thought Tate was ripped and he was but not like Shawn. The way Shawn is built and the way he moves so fluidly is just...it's enough to stop your heart.
"Hey, hello?" He waves his hand in your face. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah I'm fine?"
"Did you hear me?"
"Yeah?"
Shawn chuckles and leans back on his forearms. "What'd I say?"
"Hello?"
"Nope. I asked you if you wanted to get dinner."
"Oh." You push your hair back out of your face and look up at the clock over your kitchen table. "It's almost eight. Shit."
"So? Do you work tomorrow?"
"Yeah in the evening, but I didn't mean to keep you this late."
"It's not late?" Shawn laughs. "It's no big deal. I'm off tomorrow. I'll order something and we'll keep putting together this bed frame, sleeping on a mattress on the floor is bad for your back."
"Mmmhmm. Sure you don't just want to stay late to get me on this bed after we put it together?"
Shawn sits up, leans forward onto his hands and knees, face close to yours as he pushes himself up off the floor. "Oh I'll be much more upfront when I wanna do that." He pulls out his phone and you flush hot. "What sounds good? Pizza? Wings? Chinese?"
"Don't you need to eat healthy?"
"I do." He smiles over at you. "It's alright to indulge now and then."
"Oh."
"None of this is going away because I eat some pizza now and then." He gestures up and down himself. "I know that sounds incredibly pretentious but I worked hard for this strength. I'm having pizza." He puts the phone up to his ear and walks around the room aimlessly as it rings.
"Tate never wanted to get dinner. He said it'd ruin his diet." You stand and look around at the scattered pieces of the bed frame and your stomach rumbles loudly.
"Yeah because he was an idiot." Shawn says softly before answering the phone and placing an order for a medium taco pizza.
You raise your eyebrows and he grins. How did he happen to know your favorite pizza? There was no way he could have known or guessed. Taco pizza was not an every day order.
"Thank you bye." He pockets his phone. "Anyway Tate was obsessed with his eating habits. I remember sitting him down and explaining that he actually needs to eat real food and not protein shakes and supplements for every meal. He didn't ever listen though."
"Yeah he was an idiot, okay, but how did you know I like taco pizza?"
"Wild guess."
"Uh uh. Who told you?"
Shawn holds his hands up. "Honest to God, you want the truth?"
"Yeah. Who was it?"
"No one. Seriously, it was a wild guess. I like taco pizza and I noticed you have little taco magnets on the fridge and a taco pillow on your couch so I figured maybe you like them too. Seriously, it was a shot in the dark."
You stare at him slack jawed. He had been in your house for an hour and he noticed your taco magnets? That was...just so...weird? What else did he notice? You look around your room suddenly very self conscious of everything you have sitting on the dresser and nightstand. "I...I don't know what to say about that."
"About what?"
"About how observant you are."
"Oh. Should I not be?"
"N-no, I mean, it's fine? I've just never had someone pay attention to my stuff I guess."
Shawn chuckles and gets down on his knees to start taking the rest of the bed frame pieces from the box. You definitely don't miss how his ass is perfectly accentuated by the dip of his jeans. "Well, I like your place, it's interesting and cozy. Sorry if that's weird, I don't mean it to be."
"It's fine." You get down next to him, eyes still on his butt and he hands you a bag of screws. "It's just different. You're different." He leans forward to grab a bar from the frame and the way his back curves makes you want to grab his ass so bad. It's perfectly round and you just want to feel it so badly.
He glances over with a smile as he sits back on his knees. "Is that good?"
"W-what?" You feel a flush on your cheeks. Was he talking about your staring? Was he good? Because yes, a thousand times yes he was.
"Is it good that I'm different?"
"Oh! Yeah, very good." You smile and look down with a chuckle as you dump the bag of screws into a little Tupperware bowl he hands you that you've been using for small parts so nothing gets lost. "I like different."
"Me too." He grins and you meet his eyes. "Let's get this bed together so we can relax when the pizza gets here."
"Sounds like a plan."
_____________________
"Busy night?"
You look up from the back of the bar and see Shawn sitting a few seats down from you. He's smiling, hair pushed back looking like a damn angel in his white tee. The bar has been crowded for two hours now, a huge bachelor party of some sort taking up most of the space in the building. You and Sammy have been working double time to get food and drinks out as quick as possible. Big parties of guys meant big tips, keep them happy, keep that tip growing.
"Yeah." You glance over to the loud crowd nearby. "Bachelor party."
"I see. Must be fun?"
"For me or them?"
"Both?"
You chuckle and walk down to stand in front of him. "Is it fun making drinks? Yes. Is it fun watching a bunch of twenty some year olds get hammered while getting hit on by every one of them? Not so much."
Shawn waves off a drink offer as you gesture to the bar behind you. "I just came by to see how you were doing. You haven't been by the gym in a few days."
"Oh, you noticed." You lean back and smile. "I've been working doubles. Carrie has had a cold and I didn't want her to push herself. I'm a lot younger, I can't handle a few days of work."
Shawn cracks open a peanut from the bucket on the counter for customers. "You're a sweetheart." He grins and pops the peanut in his mouth. "Glad you're alright though."
"Did you think I was avoiding you?"
"Nah. Well, a little?" He chuckles and hangs his head. "Honestly I thought I fucked up the night we put together your bed."
You step forward and fold your arms on the counter in front of him. "I'd tell you if you fucked up. Trust me, you haven't done anything to put me off."
"Good. What do you say to lunch Wednesday?"
"I'd say I hope you like Dixie's pulled pork special because that's where I'll be."
"You work dayshift again?" He shakes his head.
"Yep. My last double."
"Okay, alright. I'll stop by?"
"I'd love it."
Shawn looks over at the party of guys getting loud again. "I'm gonna head out before that gets too wild. Stay safe honey."
"Bye Shawn." You roll your eyes at his ridiculous pet name and he waves as he heads out.
____________________
"How's Connor doing?" You ask as you watch the young fighter spar with one of the other guys while Shawn is taking a break in the office.  
"The kid is insane. He's fast, strong, smart too. He reminds me of myself when I was nineteen."
You look over and Shawn is tossing a stress ball up at the ceiling casually. "Connor is nineteen?"
"Yeah." He looks over with a grin. "Why? Thought he was cute?"
"Shawn! God, no. I'm just surprised Harlow took on a guy that young."
"I was too. I remember when Connor walked into this gym. He was a short little sixteen year old with no intention of doing anything but bulking up a bit."
"He didn't wanna be a fighter?"
"Nope." Shawn chuckles. "He came to take some HIIT classes and some CrossFit bullshit Harlow had let a trainer do for a few months. I think once he saw me and Mike in the ring he caught the bug."
You watch as Connor takes down his opponent, pinning him to the mat. Shawn's right, he is fast and strong for his size. His practice opponent is easily twenty pounds heavier than him and he is taking him down like it's nothing. "You think he's gonna make it to championship finals?"
"He going to make it to nationals if I have any say in it. He has what it takes, he's got the heart and soul of a fighter. You don't see that everyday. I've trained a lot of guys in the last few years and they just don't have what Connor has."
"Has any of your trainees made it to the championship circuit?"
"No. Not yet." Shawn looks over and you chuckle. "What? You think I'm not good at training?"
"Not that. I'm just laughing because your last trainee was Tate right?"
"Yeah."
"He definitely didn't have what it takes."
"He didn't. He couldn't listen, just wanted to do what he thought was right. You'd think when a two time western champion and two time national finalist takes the time to train you, you might try and give a fuck." Shawn sits up and squeezes the shit out of his stress ball. "Tate honest to God pissed me off like no other."
You raise your eyebrows and giggle. How funny it was that the two of you shared the same distaste for Tate. "He was something."
"No. He's nothing and he's never going to be until he gets his head out of his ass."
"Harsh."
"You think so? I'm sure you've thought the same thing."
You smirk. "I've definitely thought worse."
"And I'm harsh?"
"I haven't said it out loud." You scoff and lean back in Jodi's chair. "But someone should."
Shawn stands and walks over to the desk. He leans forward and smirks. "I'd tell that sorry piece of shit every single thing you wish you could say to him. I'd hand deliver it to him right in his smug fuckin jaw."
"Easy tiger." You run your hand up his arm, fingers curling against bicep and he drops his head. "No need for the violence. Fighting is an art not a brawl."
"You-"
"I'm using your own words against you?" You smirk and stand up, checking a message on your phone from Sammy about stopping by for tips from last night.
Shawn straightens up with a grin and shakes his head. "You remember me telling Tate that?"
"It's the first thing I ever heard you say to him."
"Tate is a dumbass for losing a woman like you, y'know?"
"Yeah." You walk around and past Shawn toward the door. "But if he wasn't, I wouldn't have ever found a man worth fighting for."
_____________________
Wednesday afternoon is a shit show. For some reason there are a couple day drinkers in at the bar and they won't stop bugging Sammy. She's covering a shift for one of the other waitresses, Megan, since it's her birthday and she's seriously regretting it. Day shift is supposed to be easy. The worst part being an occasional kid throwing food around. Poor girl.
"I just can't do it," Sammy hisses as she stands beside you at the end of the bar at the wash station. "That guy over there has been harassing me non stop. I've tried everything to get him to fuck off."
You take a look over at the end of the bar and you know exactly which guy it is. He's in his thirties, probably an insurance broker or real estate agent by the looks of his tailored suit and gray temples. He looks older than he should. There's a glass of whiskey in his hand that you served him about ten minutes ago. He's the one you were about to cut off and send packing anyways.
"Want me to make him leave?"
"Do you have a bouncer?" Sammy glances over your shoulder. "Because I don't think he's going to leave so easily."
"Well, how about we make him realize you're not into him?"
"By doing what?"
You smirk and set down your dirty glasses into the sink. "I can stage kiss you. I used to do it all the time with my friends back in Vegas." You look down at the guy. He'd definitely fall for it, he was too drunk to see straight. "We'll make a show of it."
"I don't know." Sammy twists her hands in her apron. "Maybe he'll just leave?"
"Sammy. He's not gonna leave if he thinks he has even an inkling of a chance." You pull Sammy down the bar closer to where the creep is sitting. "It's up to you. He's watching us right now."
"Okay, okay." She shakes her hands out and puts her hand on your shoulder, going up to your neck. You can see her glance over at the guy. "It's working he's watching intently."
"Good." You cup her cheek and bring your other hand up to here jaw and cover her mouth with the side or your palm as you pretend to kiss her. "Is he looking?"
"Mmhyeah."
You pull back and give Sammy a hug before going down the bar to the creep. "Do you need a refill on that?" You ask, pointing to his nearly empty glass. You weren't really going to give him a refill, he'd had more than enough.
"No." He grumbles and stands up. "I'm going home." He passes you his credit card and you settle his tab. "Thanks."
Sammy beams from her spot by the liquor shelves. "I can't believe that worked!"
"Almost every time." You walk over and hand her the ones the creep had left as a tip under his cup. "For you dear."
"Thanks." Sammy pockets the bills and smiles. "I wish I had you years ago."
"Well I'm here now." You ruffle her hair and she ducks away. "Do me a favor?"
"Sure."
"Keep an eye out for Shawn? He is supposed to be coming in for lunch."
"Ohhh." Sammy smirks. "You got a little crush on the big boy?"
"Obviously." You toss your bar rag over your shoulder and head for a lady who's just walked up at the end of the bar. "How couldn't I?"
"He's a good one!" Sammy laughs and heads off to check on her tables while you get back to bartending.
_____________________
Shawn never showed up for lunch. You can't say you weren't a little disappointed since you had made plans, but you understand that he may have gotten busy at the gym. Things happen. It isn't a big deal.
You stop by the gym the next day to help Jodi with registration for the fall championship circuit for the western region. She had to have all of the fighters from Harlow's registered and ready to go by Monday. It is a ton of paperwork and you know what to do, so you volunteer to help out before work.
"Can you go get Jack for me? I need to talk to him about getting me a copy of his physical."
"Yep." You push away from her desk and head out the door. The locker rooms are to the right of the main floor of the gym and you head there first.
"Dude, I saw her kissing Sammy."
You freeze and listen to the conversation you've walked up on. It's clearly Shawn.
"So? What's the big deal?" It's Connor.
"I thought she was into me. We've been flirting and stuff and then I walk into Dixie's for lunch and she's kissing the waitress! I thought she was into guys!"
Connor laughs and sighs. "I dunno dude."
"I can be into both." You say, stepping into view and getting a good look at Shawn in nothing but a towel. He's dripping wet and it's so hard to focus on the conversation at hand, you have to look away. "Maybe if you wanted to know what was going on, you should ask me?"
Connor's eyes go wide and he looks between the two of you before ducking his head and squeezing around Shawn to make himself scarce.
"I know you can like whoever you want...I just thought..."
"Shawn." You walk over to him and lay your hand on his chest. He's warm and damp and oh Lord when he shifts you can feel the muscle flex. "Relax. I pretended to kiss Sammy so a guy at the bar would stop harassing her."
"Oh."
"Is that why you didn't show up for lunch?"
"Yeah." He rubs the back of his neck. "I walked in and saw that kiss and I didn't know what to think. I'm sorry, I should have asked you."
"It's fine. I probably would have been really confused too." You look him over and he smirks. "I swear I'm still very much into you."
"Yeah? Enough to go on a real date?"
"Mmm I think it's time we did. Any plans?"
Shawn grins. "I have a few. How's this Saturday night sound?"
"I'm off. What time?"
"Six? I'll pick you up. Wear something comfortable and not too fancy."
You raise your eyebrows and he just keeps smiling. "Alright. I'll see you then. In the meantime, have you seen Jack? We need a copy of his latest physical for the registration."
"He's probably out on the floor. If you didn't see him, check the backroom because he might be resting on the spare mats."
"In the storage area?"
"Yeah." He chuckles. "He likes to meditate and listen to his audio books back there to relax."
"Oh. Well thanks." You pat Shawn's chest and he traps your hand under his, curling his fingers around yours. "Yes?"
He bites his lip and shakes his head before releasing your hand. "Nothing. Go on."
"See you in a bit."
_____________________
"Do you still do photography?" Harlow asks you Friday day while you, her and Jodi sit in their living room while going over travel plans for the out of state fights in this year's competition.
"A little bit. I don't do anything professionally anymore."
"But you have your camera?"
"Yeah of course and my lenses. Why?"
Harlow grins. "If I hire you, will you do the photography for the website? I need pictures of all the guys for the brackets this year."
"Sure I can do that. I think I have a my backdrop stuff still as well."
"You'll probably get to photograph Shawn too." Jodi pipes up from where she's typing away at the laptop. "You could take a few just for yourself."
"Jodi!"
"What?"
Harlow groans and shoves her wife's shoulder. "I'm hiring her for a professional shoot, quit teasing her."
"Yeah yeah."
"What time do you want me to stop by? I'm free this weekend and next Thursday all day. Otherwise I work after six."
"Stop by whenever you want. I'm sure it'll take a few days to get all the fighters done and we have a few weeks before fights start. We'll start with Connor when you do get set up. He's my headliner. I'm banking on him hard so I want his photos to be really good."
"Yes ma'am."
_____________________
"So you're doing photos for Harlow?"
You look over at Shawn from the passenger side of his truck. He'd picked you up at a little after six and still wouldn't tell you where you're going. He did make you change into an old pair of jeans instead of the black skinnies you had on and promised you wouldn't regret it. You're almost convinced he's taking you mudding outside of town because you've been driving for twenty minutes and you're still not sure where the hell you are.
"Yeah, I'm doing photos for her? Why?"
"No reason, I was curious."
"You want me to take pictures of you too?"
"I'm not a fighter in the circuit."
"So?"
Shawn looks over and raises his eyebrows. "So why would you take pictures of me?"
"Because you're gorgeous." You look out the window away from him, heart racing at your admission. "I'd die to photograph you in action. You're a rarity, perfect from every angle. It'd be a treat."
"I had no idea you were so into photography. That's awesome." He bumps your leg and you look over. "I'd love to see what kind of photos you take at matches."
"I've taken some good ones. But like I said, I really want to photograph you."
He chuckles. "Sorry sweetheart. I'm retired." He turns the truck down a dirt road toward a big sign that says Pierce Ranch.
"You have a farm?"
"No, my uncle does."
"Why are we going to your uncle's farm?"
"Because I'm taking you horseback riding."
"What? You're serious?"
Shawn turns the truck into a long driveway in front of a big sprawling house. "Dead serious. My uncle is out of town for a few days and he said we could come out and spend some time out here."
You sit stunned in silence. Horseback riding as a first date. Who thought of that? It's so off the wall and incredibly romantic.
"Should we go back?"
You snap out of your thoughts and look over at Shawn as he kills the engine in front of a set of garages. He looks worried. "No, why?"
"You're really quiet. If you don't want to do this we can just go to dinner or something. I know it's kind of different and-"
"I want to go horseback riding."
"Oh." He smiles big and you can see the relief on his face. "Okay good. I'm really looking forward to having you meet my favorite horse."
You put your hand on the door to get out. "I can't wait."
An hour later and you're set up on a horse named Butters, his favorite, and you're strolling along side Shawn on a well worn path around some trees behind the barns. You were nervous at first, needing Shawn's help to stay on the horse but eventually you got the hang of it.
"So, you must really like horses then?" You giggle, looking over at Shawn during a lull in conversation.
"Yeah. I used to spend every summer here with my Uncle Carlos. I still come out here pretty often when I need to relax and get away from it all."
"Ahh, I can see why. It's nice." You bite your lip and glance over. "Can I ask you something?"
"Yes?" He chuckles. "Usually that's how dates go."
"Why don't you fight anymore?"
Shawn is quiet. You know it's a sore subject, seeing as no one really wanted to get too in depth when they talked about Shawn's past. You're curious though. A man like him with his skills and experience could still be in the ring.
"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it."
"No, I-I knew you'd ask eventually." He sighs and guides the horses to a clearing in the trees. He slides off and hitches his horse and then yours to a tree before helping you down.
"Seriously, you seem uncomfortable to talk about it. We don't have to."
Shawn stuffs his hands into his pockets as the two of you head for a bunch of rocks. There's a stream nearby and you can hear the water trickling along the rocks you're walking toward. This place is incredibly serene and you feel bad for bringing up such a tense subject when the date has been going so well.
"So, three years ago I won my second championship." Shawn drops down onto a large flat boulder. "But, the fight was so intense I almost killed my opponent. Now I know, fights get rough and tension runs high in the ring when there's a lot of money and a title at stake. It wasn't about that though. I kicked my opponent so hard he dropped, he just went down, lights out. It wasn't until after everything was said and done I found out he had serious brain trauma from the fight, particularly from my kick."
You sit down next to Shawn and grab his hand. He rubs his thumbs over your fingers gently before continuing.
"I found out he had a newborn baby. I accidentally almost killed this man and took him away from his child because of a sport. I had to stop after that. I couldn't do it anymore."
"Oh Shawn." You squeeze his hand and he looks at you. "You didn't kill him though. He's fine, he's alive and with his child. It is part of the risks you take as fighters."
"I know. I just couldn't deal with that sort of thing happening again. I've made my peace with it and with fighting."
"I understand." You scoot a little closer and he runs his free hand over his hair. "You're a great trainer. Maybe being a fighter isn't for you anymore, but your skills aren't wasted this way. Do you want to fight?"
"To be completely honest, yes. I want to fight every single day, I itch to compete and I think that's why I push Connor so hard. I'm living vicariously."
"Maybe you could do some small time stuff? Not such high stakes?"
"I can't." He shakes his head. "When I'm in the ring I don't stop, I fight hard until I'm out or I win. It's all or nothing."
"Oh."
"Yeah. But anyways, I'm happy training." He smiles, soft and small but genuine nonetheless. "I'm proud to be training a fighter like Connor."
"Good. That's what matters." You bite your lip and giggle to yourself. "I much rather see you like this then all beat up anyway."
"Oh yeah? Not into the black eye and busted lip look?"
"Not on you." You reach out and tenderly turn his face to you. "You're too gorgeous to see damaged."
"I'm gorgeous?" Shawn smirks and runs his hand over your hair. "I think you're mistaken. You're the gorgeous one here." He cradles your face in his hand and just stares at you lovingly.
"No, definitely not." There's a moment where you're both staring at each other's lips and you both know that you want to make a move but it's too soon. Or is it?
Shawn's hand slides away from your face and he stands, offering to help you up. "Let's go back. I've got stuff to make dinner."
"You're making me dinner?"
He hauls you up against him. "Mmhmm. You can help if you'd like." He holds you steady by your hips. "How does spaghetti and meatballs sound?"
"Really good."
"Good." He puts his arm around your shoulders and starts walking back to the horses. "Because when we both have garlic breath the rest of the night won't matter."
You laugh and he just beams at you. "You're something else." You run your hand over his back and he leans his head on yours. "I like it, I like you."
"I like you too."
_____________________
Wednesday night comes around again quicker than ever and Dixie's is crawling with people. All the fighters from Harlow's have showed up to celebrate the announcement of the western circuit championship bracket. Shawn shows up a little after nine and you can't help the smile that spreads across your face. He smiles back and makes your heart beat faster. Things have been going incredibly well with him since the date at the ranch. You're falling hard and fast and you don't really want to stop.
"Hey darling," Shawn says over the loudness as he leans against an empty spot at the bar. "How's it going?"
"Packed! Harlow brought all the guys and their friends and families in! It's crazy."
"Good for business though."
"Very. Carrie is moving faster than I've ever seen her go. We've had to pull Dave from the kitchen twice to help me catch up with drinks. We're gonna need to restock." You laugh and point back at the bar. "My tips are racking up fast too."
Shawn looks you over in your required black tee and apron. It's nothing special, but you know it looks good on you and so does he. "You deserve every dollar you get tonight. You're working hard."
"I am. Can I get you something?"
"Just a diet coke is fine. I'm taking it easy in case anyone needs a ride home tonight."
You turn around and fill a glass from the soda guns attached to the counter. "Enjoy yourself, you got most of these guys to this competition after all."
Shawn raises his drink to that and smiles. "I'm going to go hang out with Connor and Jack. I'll check in later?"
"I'll be here."
Two hours later and you are pushing through the kitchen doors to find Carrie. There's a guy who's harassing you and he's way more wasted then he should be, you've only served him three drinks and they weren't that strong. You suspect he may be taking something along with his drinks and Carrie won't have that sort of activity in her establishment.
"We've got a problem." You state angrily, gripping the doorway to the walk in cooler. "It's that asshole who's been trying to get my number since he sat down."
"Yeah?" Carrie turns to look at you as she hauls out a box of burger patties for the cooks. "Is he tweaked out?"
"I think so. He just grabbed my chest when I leaned over to hand some drinks to a guy beside him."
Carrie is livid, her eyes look like she could kill a man with her bare hands and possible has before. "Oh he's gone, I'm gonna-"
A loud crash from beyond the kitchen stuns you both and not a second later Dave, the line prep cook, throws open the door to the backroom and says there's a fight in the front area. Carrie drops the box of burgers in the cooler and closes the door as she hightails it to the front with you on her heels.
The scene before you is not pretty and immediately you think that it's one of the fighters involved. You're right. It's a fighter. But not a current one. It's Shawn and he is standing in front of the bar squared up with the drunk grabby handed guy. There is an overturned table and chairs and you think Shawn's already knocked the asshole down once, or he stumbled into the table and fell.
"Shawn!" You try to yell over the crowd but it's way too loud.
Carrie pushes past you and shoves her tiny frame through the crowd. You decide to go around to get behind the bar and as soon as you do you see a mess of shattered glass and ice on the floor.
"Shawn!" You shout, hands cupped around your mouth. "Shawn stop!"
He isn't listening or he can't hear you. Either way he's swinging at the drunk guy again in defense and before anything can get worse, the cops show up. You watch as the crowd separates and drunk grabby hands gets cuffed while Shawn tries to talk to the cops. It's no use and you watch them walk Shawn out of the bar as well.
You lean on the counter with your back to the door as the two guys get escorted out. Great. You can't help but feel like this is your fault. Shawn must have seen the move grabby hands pulled and approached him. You run your hand over your hair and look to Carrie as she steps behind the bar.
"God damn fighters. This is such a mess!"
"Yeah it is." You chuckle dryly to yourself. "It sure is."
______________________
You didn't think you'd ever be waiting in the lobby of a police station at three in the morning but here you are. Harlow was going to come with, in fact she was going to go alone and bail Shawn out but Jodi was absolutely trashed and you know she needed to take care of her over Shawn, so you said you would go. Besides, you wanted to talk with him one on one about the fight and why it happened.
You hear Shawn before you see him. He's coming down the hall behind the check in desk. "What do you mean my girlfriend came and-"
"Hey," you wave and he walks over to you quickly and hugs you tight.
"Thank God you're okay."
"Of course I'm okay. What would have happened to me?"
Shawn pulls you back and holds your face. "I couldn't find you after that guy put his hands on you. I was worried you left Dixie's or he did something."
"Shawn, he was wasted. What was he going to do to me? He could hardly stand."
"I don't know. I approached him after I saw what happened and he was talking all this shit like what he wanted to do to you. God it was disgusting, and then I didn't see you around and I panicked."
You cup his face and he has a bruise blossoming on his left jaw. "So your instinct was to fight him?"
"He came at me. I was just going to get some of the guys to help me escort him out but he started swinging as soon as I said he needed to go."
"Well it's done and over with now." You turn and head for the doors. "I'll take you to get your truck at the bar."
The ride to Dixie's is quiet. The dark streets are empty, illuminated only by the soft yellow street lights that have been there for far longer than they should be. Seriously the light is so dim it hardly lights up the road. You turn down the street you live on to take a shortcut to Dixie's and as you pass your house you glance at it instinctively.
You slam on the breaks just past your driveway. "What the fuck?" You put the car in park and squint at your darkened front door, or lack thereof. The door is open, gone by the looks of it.
"Don't get out of the car." Shawn warns, flipping the lock button. "Someone could still be in there. Call the cops and back up out of sight."
You fumble with your phone and put it up to your ear. You report the break in and your street name. As soon as you're done you reverse down the street until you're a few houses away.
Shawn reaches over and lays his hand on your shoulder. "Do you know anyone who might have done this?"
"No. I have no idea. I don't even have anything worth stealing!" You lean your head on the steering wheel. "I don't understand. Could this night get any worse?"
"Don't say that." Shawn rubs up and down your back. "It's not the end of the world. We'll find out what's going on."
"What if I had gone home from Dixie's? What if I didn't come pick you up?" You look at the darkened house. "What if I was there?"
"You weren't. That's what matters. Look," he points to a police car coming down the street. "Here comes the cops."
"Will you go in with me?"
"Of course. You think I'm gonna just stay in the car?" Shawn grabs your hand and kisses it gently. "Come on, let's go talk to the cops."
An hour later and you've filed a full report with Officer Jones. There was nothing stolen as far as you can see. The house is fine, completely in order except for your room. Your dresser had been torn through and your closet emptied out, bed sheets and blankets torn apart too. You have absolutely no idea what someone was looking for and Officer Jones kept asking if you were completely sure you didn't know who could have done this.
It's nearly five in the morning and you are exhausted. The sun is coming up and the sky outside is getting brighter by the minute. You need to sleep and you don't feel safe in your house with the door broken and your bedroom torn apart.
"Grab some clothes, I'm gonna take you to my place." Shawn says, walking around your mess of a bedroom. "We'll take care of the broken door frame and stuff later."
"You're sure?"
"Yeah. Come on. I know we're both exhausted so I'll drive and we'll pick up my truck tomorrow. We need to rest, it's been a long night."
You grab a tote bag from your closet and throw a few shirts and jeans in it with some underwear. "I could stay with Jodi."
"I really would feel better if you stayed with me." Shawn takes the bag from you as you grab a pair of shoes and socks by the dresser. "Are you okay with it?"
"Of course Shawn." You join him by the door and lay your hand on his shoulder. "I trust you. We'll go to your place. If you want to take that stuff to the car I'm going to grab my camera gear. I told Harlow I'd start doing photos tomo- today." You sigh. "Well, I'll try and get everything set up after we get a few hours of sleep."
"I'm sure she'll understand." He rubs your back and you lean your head on his shoulder. You're absolutely at your limit, body ready to collapse on the next available soft surface. "I'll be in the car. Don't take too long."
"I won't."
_____________________
When you wake up you have no idea what time it is. Shawn's room is bright and you look around for some hint that he is there. He had insisted you take his bed and he'd sleep on the couch. His bed smells so good, like fresh laundry and his cologne. Warm and spicy, it is absolutely perfect. You reach for your phone on the nightstand and see it's just after noon. There are three missed texts.
Harlow: are you coming by to do the shoot today?
Shawn: I'll be at the gym, take it easy and help yourself to the fridge.
Harlow: nvm please rest I talked to Shawn
You close your eyes and flop back onto the pillows. You promised Harlow you'd be by to take some photos, at least some of the ones for the gym website. You turn over and curl up with Shawn's spare pillow, pressing your face into while opening Shawn's text to reply.
You: is Harlow mad I didn't make it?
Shawn: no. I explained the situation and she's more worried about you than anything
You: tell her I can still make it in to set up at least
Shawn: okay. If u are coming by bring me an extra shirt? I forgot to bring one for post workout.
You: okay no prob.
You glance over at his dresser and then back to the window opposite you that over looks the tree line behind his house. It looks like a nice day, it'd be a shame to waste it but you aren't feeling like going out. You just want to stay curled up in his bed forever. Yesterday was so draining with everything that happened and you don't know how much you can handle without snapping at someone. Rest had definitely helped but you still feel uneasy about the break in. It just seemed so targeted like Officer Jones said, but you can't imagine what someone would want from you.
Eventually you get up and make your way down stairs to the kitchen. Shawn's place is beautiful, it truly is. It's very much like a modern cabin and you're not surprised since it's just outside of town in the woods. He's got a few neighbors but it's not like a usual neighborhood setting.
You grab a protein bar from what you assume was once a fruit basket. It looks good enough and you grab your purse from the living room, stuffing one of Shawn's tees into it before you head out. You pause, looking down at the white shirt hanging out of your purse. You go back into the bedroom and take a blue shirt from Shawn's dresser before stripping off your top and pulling the white tee on over your head. It's a little big but it fits well enough and you smile to yourself in his mirror. You grab your purse and head for the front door.
The drive into town is quiet, a little long, but it's nice. It's one long road that winds around the woods in a circle and then turns out on to Main St that you take all the way into town. It's basically a cul-de-sac but in the woods. The whole time you wonder if you should stop by the house and check on it, or if you should call Officer Jones and see if they have anything to go off of. You're really banking on one of your neighbor's having a security camera or something that spotted the intruder. Though your street is so dark at night it's hard to see anything anywhere.
You turn into the lot behind Harlow's and park beside Jodi's Jeep. You unload your backdrops and stands, carrying everything in the back door. You're met with Connor whos grabbing some tape for a mat from the storage room and he offers to help.
"Look who I found," Connor announces as you walk out onto the gym floor with all your stuff in hand.
Shawn walks over from boxing with a stand up bag. "Hey darling," he takes your camera bag and stand case. "Did you sleep okay?"
"Yes." You smile softly. "Your bed is very comfortable."
"I'm glad." He rests his hand on your lower back. "Is this my shirt?"
"Maybe."
He grins and kisses your cheek. "It's all yours now. Looks good on you anyway. Any word from Officer Jones?"
"Not yet. I'm sure he'll call tonight or tomorrow."
"You can stay at my place as long as you need to."
You stand up on your toes a bit and kiss his cheek. "Thank you."
"Alright love birds break it up." Jodi says loudly, clapping at the two of you. "Before you start getting set up I wanna talk to you about what happened, I need to know who I'm going to skin alive."
"We don't know anything yet Jodi." Shawn says with an eye roll. "I told you that."
Jodi snorts. "I'm still going to kick someone's ass."
"I promise I'll let you know who to hunt when we hear back from the police." You say softly and Shawn gives you another kiss on the head before heading back over to the cage with Connor. Jodi puts her arm around you and the two of you head to the backroom that isn't full of old equipment to set up your camera.
_____________________
Photos go well, you manage to get all the guys done in a few hours. You'll go home later and look them over to decide if you need to reshoot anything. But for now you are finished and starting to pack up.
"Hey, you forgot one."
You turn and look at Shawn standing in the doorway to the backroom where you're set up. "I did?"  
"Yeah. Me." He grins and steps in, closing the door behind him. "I thought you couldn't wait to get photos of me."
"Well, I figured I could get them any time."
"Oh? You think I'll pose for you whenever you like?"
You smirk. "You might, but I want to take candids of you."
Shawn wraps his arms around you and you lean back into his chest. "Candids huh?" He noses against your ear, hand going over your stomach. "Like private candids of me in my bed, laid out on the sheets holding my-"
"Shawn!"
He chuckles deeply and you can feel your body get warm, heat pooling between your legs. "Is that not what you want?"
You turn around in his hold and run a hand over his hair. "I want so much more from you then a couple of photos."
"Yeah? Tell me what you want."
"Oh you know...all the good stuff."
"The good stuff?" He walks you back against the backdrop and you bring his head down, foreheads rolling together. "This kind of good stuff?" He asks lowly before he kisses you softly.
"I know why you came in here." You whisper between kisses, hands going up and down his back. "You're jealous."
He lets out a growl as he kisses along your jaw. "You think I'm jealous of my fighters?"
"Your fighters hmm?"
"Mmm. I'm partnered with Harlow." He pulls back to look down at you. "I own the gym with her. I thought you knew?"
"No, I had no idea. She seems so bossy and it's called Harlow's so..."
Shawn plays with the ends of your hair, twisting his finger around bits of it. "She already had the place, I just bought in with championship winnings to keep it open. She runs the business side with Jodi and I run the gym floor as you can tell."
"Wow. So Connor and the other guys in the circuit this season is a huge deal for you."
"Yeah. A win from one of them could mean we expand Harlow's, new equipment, more fighters. With four guys going this year we have a good chance, and with Connor, we have the odds in our favor, I think."
You grin and shake your head. "Our first kiss and here we are talking business. Y'know if you were anyone else I'd have left by now."
"But I'm not anyone else." He leans in and bumps his nose to yours. "I'm special huh?"
"Oh you're special alright."
Shawn gives you one more kiss before he laughs and pulls back. "Let me make it up to you. I told Connor I'd go to dinner with him at Dixie's to talk about his first fight and what to expect. We can go a little early and have some time to ourselves first. How does that sound?"
"Sounds like a date."
"Oh it's not necessarily a date, but it could be."
You smile and he just holds your hips looking down at you. "Come on, enough staring like weirdos. I'm hungry."
____________________
Dixie's is packed when you arrive but you manage to get a table near the bar that's a small two seater. You see Carrie running around like a mad woman and two of the day time waitresses are running around behind her. The place is popular this time of year with fighters and their crews moving into town and nearby during the first part of the western circuit. That's what Carrie told you anyway during her briefing on what to expect and how she deals with the increased number of fights during this time of year.  
"Is that Connor?" Shawn asks, pointing to a table behind you. "What's he doing here so- oh I see."
You turn and look over at where Shawn is pointing to a corner table where Connor is and leaning on the table in her work clothes is Sammy. You smirk, it's about time they talked. Sammy has been eyeing Connor for weeks but she's hesitant because he's a fighter and she knows what the lifestyle entails.
“They’re kids, leave 'em be.”
“Yeah, yeah. Sammy is a good girl. I’m not worried about it.”
“She is. She also knows what it’s like to live with fighters. She told me her brother was a fighter.” You shake your head. “I think she said he went north to try for the canadian championship but he didn't win and ended up settling down up there”
“I knew her brother Devin, we fought a few times.” Shawn smiles over his drink. “The guy was really good, he gave me a run for my money.”
“Oh yeah? Did he train at Harlow’s?”
“No, no it was way before then. When I was nineteen he was twenty one, we went a few rounds in my first championship entry. I didn’t win that year, I got too cocky and big headed. He was a tough dude though, if Sammy is anything like him she’ll keep Connor in his place.”
You chuckle. “Sammy is very shy, I’m not sure she’s like her brother at all.”
“The shy ones are the ones you gotta watch out for.” Shawn smirks and you roll your eyes.
"Anyways, you said I could stay at your place again?"
"Mmhmm." Shawn smiles and chews on his straw. "I definitely don't mind."
"Good. I'm nervous about going home until we find out more from the police. It's feels like such a personal attack since they went through just my bedroom and didn't even take anything." You shake your head and lean you chin on your hand on the table. "They didn't even take jewelry. Someone wanted something from me."
"Maybe they thought it was someone else who lived there?"
"I don't know. I hope there is video footage from one of the neighbors that shows us something."
"They're gonna check with the neighbors for you?"
"Yeah, Officer Jones called while I was photographing Gauge. He said they're gonna canvas the area, ask for surveillance from anyone nearby and see if they can't get a suspect or even a car or something."
Shawn leans back and crosses his arms. "Y'know I was actually thinking, do you think it could be Tate? I didn't want to say something about him to the cops but is there something you have of his?"
You raise your eyebrows. You hadn't thought of Tate being a suspect. Hell, you were two states away from him now and it's been months since the break up. "I don't think I have anything. I gave him everything back, all his clothes and anything he ever bought me. I left it all in a box in our apartment."
"It was just a thought."
"No, it's a good one. He is crazy enough to do something like that." You roll your eyes and flag down Carrie to pay for your drinks. "Maybe I can call him, or I could try his sister Maggie."
"I'd try Maggie if you have a good relationship with her. If it was him he probably won't want to talk to you."
Carrie stops by the table and hands you your bill. "Have you seen Sammy?"
"She's over there with..." You look around for her and Connor but neither are at the table in the corner anymore. "Well she was here. Is she working tonight?"
"Yeah. Her shift starts in five minutes." Carrie takes your cash and you wave her off for change. "You say you seen her?"
Shawn chuckles. "She was with Connor."
"The fighter?"
"Yeah, my champ." Shawn stands and gives you a look and you nod, letting him know you don't mind if he goes looking for the two of them. "I think I know where they are."
Carrie raises her eyebrows. "Well if you find her, tell her to get her ass to work."
"Yes ma'am." Shawn smiles. "See you at the house." He squeezes your shoulder and heads for the front door.
A minute later Sammy comes walking in very flushed and you can't help but smile to yourself. She's got a flower tucked into her hair and you think her and Connor must have been sitting out on the patio since the flower is definitely from the pots out there.  
____________________
You get to Shawn's place a little after eight. His truck is in the driveway so you know he's there. The sun is starting to go down and you are tired from working on photos and stress from the break in. Your brain is absolutely taxed. All you want is some dinner and a soft bed. You turn the handle to the door and walk into music blasting from the kitchen. It's some eighties hair band and you chuckle to yourself as you walk across the living room to find Shawn around the corner shadow boxing at the stove shirtless.
"What's for dinner?" You laughs and he looks back around with a grin. "Smells good!"
Shawn turns and shuts off the music on his phone. "It's chili. I figured it's pretty easy to throw together since I got home just a few minutes ago."
"Why not order something?"
"Eh, I like homemade." He stirs the pot around. "I haven't had it in a while, I thought it'd be nice."
You walk around the island and take a look into the pot. It's not chili. Well, it is, but it's not what you were expecting. "What kind of chili is this?"
"Chili Verde. My dad's recipe. Wanna taste?" He spoons some out to cool in a little bowl on the counter.  "I promise it's good."
You smile. "I'm sure it's very good. What's in it?"
"Pork, onions, green chilies. I cheated and used a bottle of premade chili verde salsa for a starter since I don't have time to stew tomatillos and green chilies for hours." He spoons some up for you and you take a bite. "Good yeah?"
"Hot." You cover your mouth. "It's kinda spicy but I like it. It's good."
Shawn beams and scoops out two bowls to cool. "I'll finish getting dinner ready, go change and relax."
You lean up on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek. "Thank you for making me dinner."
"Of course." He kisses your nose and your heart skips. "Go on."
Post dinner you're sitting on the couch with Shawn watching some ghost hunter show. He's got his arm around your shoulders and you're tucked into his side snugly. It's comfortable, being with Shawn feels incredibly natural. He's warm and safe.
"What're you doing next Sunday?" Shawn asks as he tucks his feet against yours where your legs are outstretched on the ottoman. "I was thinking if you're available we could go out."
"I work the late shift but I can see if one of the guys can cover for me."
"I don't want you to miss work. We can go another day."
"No, I want to go. It'll be a nice escape from the stress around here." You run your hand down his forearm and slide your hand into his. "Are we going to go horseback riding again?"
Shawn squeezes your hand. "Nope. I have another idea."
"What is it?"
"I'm not telling." He grins at you and you narrow your eyes at him. "I can surprise you again can't I? It's more fun that way."
"I'd like to see what tops horseback riding."
"I have a few ideas. Don't worry." He glances at the clock on the wall in the kitchen. "I should go to bed, I have a seven o'clock session with Jack tomorrow." He scrubs a hand over his face and sighs. "Do you mind if I take the bed?"
"Nope. I don't mind sharing."
"Sharing? You're ready for that?"
You push off of him and stand up, putting your hand out to him. "I'm ready for anything with you."
He takes your hand and stands, pulling you against him. "Anything huh?" He runs a hand over your hair. "Falling a little fast aren't we?"
"I don't mind." You wrap your arms around his middle. "We work well together. I've never felt this comfortable and free around someone before."
He hums. "It feels natural. I completely understand."
You scratch at his back gently and he smiles down at you. "Let's go to bed. You need to be up early."
"Mmm I could always reschedule if we wanted to stay up late." He runs his hand down your back and over your butt. "I'm sure Jack won't mind."
You shake your head and laugh. "No, you're not cancelling work because of me. We can sleep together any time."
"Well don't make it sound like we're an old married couple, jeez."
You lean up on your tiptoes and kiss him quickly. "Maybe it's good practice for the future."
"Wh- oh." He grins. "First kiss and you're planning our future all in one day? Damn."
"Oh shut up." You pull away and head to his bedroom. "Come on, chop chop. The bed awaits."
_____________________
You wake up in the middle of the night and you're freezing. It doesn't even feel like there is a heater on in the house. You roll towards Shawn and slide your arm around his middle, spooning him from behind. He shifts. A soft grunt followed by a mumble of incoherent sleep laden words. He's like a furnace, body radiating into yours.
"You okay?"
"Mmhmm." You press a kiss to his hair. "All good now."
"I missed this." He places his hand over yours on his chest. His heart beats in time with yours, a cadence of comfort in the night. "I missed being held."
"It's been a while?" 
"A long while. I didn't like to date when I fought. I only wanted to focus on my work." He chuffs. "I'd deprive myself to be the best. Stupid huh?" 
"No. You thought it'd help. It must have, you did win." You flex your fingers against his skin, blunt nails scratching him lightly. "Do you like being the little spoon?" 
"Love it. There's something about having someone smaller than you curled up and wrapped around you that I just love. I do like being the big spoon too, but I really enjoy being held sometimes." 
"I'll hold you any time." You give him a squeeze and he tangles his legs with yours. "You're like a big teddy bear."
He chuckles and that's the last thing you hear before you fall asleep to the sound of his soft breathing and the beating of his heart under your fingertips. 
-------------------------
End Part 1
-----------------------
Thank you for reading! Part 2 will be out sometime in the future as I have to write the ending still, but it’ll be another 13k at least. Thank you all again.  - A
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dearest-bucky · 4 years ago
Text
Burning heart (One Shot)
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Bucky Barnes seems to hate Y/n with a burning passion. Is everything as it seems though?
Words: 3.8K
Warnings: angstyyyyy but with a happy ending, Bucky is mean and I wanna punch him even though I love him (thank God for having everything saved in my laptop xp)
Originally posted: February 24, 2020
The compound is almost empty today, much to anyone’s surprise. With most of the team out on a long mission, the only people left to wander the living areas are Bucky and y/n. The only two people from the team who don’t get along. At all.
She knew that Bucky was somewhere training or simply sulking around the place, so she was trying to be extra careful with her moving, reducing the times she went to the kitchen to get food, going as far as isolating herself in her room for hours.
It wasn’t her fault that Bucky didn’t like her and they didn’t get along. She liked the ex-Winter Soldier, maybe a little too much, more than she should, considering how he treats her and such. But she can’t help feeling the way she does.
From the safety of her room she asked in a timid voice, “Friday, where is Sergeant Barnes?”
“He’s currently in the gym miss.” Came the immediate response.
Y/n sighed in relief and after offering a hushed thanks to the A.I she hurried to make her way to the kitchen. She was craving some chocolate chip cookies and she wanted to make her mother’s recipe for it, besides it would be a welcome home present for the other team members, they were supposed to come back from their mission in the afternoon.
Not wasting any time, she quickly got to work as soon as she set foot in the kitchen, trying her best to be as quiet as possible. It was ridiculous really, just like Bucky or everyone else, she lives in the compound, it’s her right to use each and every area of it, as long as she is not violating anyone’s privacy.
But Bucky, he was a total different thing. He couldn’t stay in the same room as her for more than 5 minutes even if their lives depended on it. He always criticized her, always had an insult to throw her way. It was as if he hated the woman, and y/n had no idea what had she done to deserve such treatment from him.
She was finished with the first batch of cookies and putting them to bake in the oven when she noticed Bucky enter the kitchen. He didn’t even spare her a glance, just headed to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water, unscrewing the cap and drinking with large sips. He looked tired, probably wore himself out with the punching bag, skin sweaty and hair dump, sticking on his forehead.
Y/n couldn’t help but stare at him. He was very handsome, with his brooding and almost dangerous features, but his eyes, they were always blue and soft and y/n couldn’t help but lose herself in them.
Bucky noticed her staring and scoffed in annoyance.
“What are you looking at?” He asked her, a little too bitterly for y/n’s taste.
She cleared her throat, embarrassed that he caught her staring, a red shade of blush dusting her cheeks.
“I’m sorry, I was just lost in thoughts, didn’t mean to stare or make you feel uncomfortable.”
Her words were quiet, but she knew Bucky could hear her anyway.
“As if.” He replied almost taunting and left the kitchen, not saying another word. As if she could make him feel uncomfortable.
Bucky hated the idea of being alone with y/n. He hated the fact that she was so nice to him, always going out of her way to see to his every need, always offering her help with anything he was supposed to figure out by himself. He hated how she cooked for the whole team and always saved him a plate, never forgetting to call him down when the food was ready or when they were all hanging out, watching movies or playing silly games.
Y/n used to be a part of the Avengers, a very important asset to the team, with her powers and skills, she was amazing and fierce and a total badass. But everything changed two years ago, only a few months before Bucky came back from Wakanda.
Y/n had been captured by Hydra and tortured for three long months, she never said in detail what they did to her there, but whatever it was ruined her for good. She suffered a lot even after Steve and Natasha found her and brought her back home. She was mentally incapable of going on another mission or anything like that, that’s why Tony and Steve decided she would not participate in another mission for as long as it was needed for her to fully recover.
Bucky was sitting on the couch of the common room, reading a book, when he heard Friday’s mechanical yet very vivid voice inform him about the arrival of the team from their mission. He closed the book and got up from the place, ready to meet Steve and the others.
They came one after the other through the door with animated chatter, looking surprisingly well considering they had been on this mission for more than two weeks.
Steve was the first one to go to Bucky and hug him, then the rest of the team greeted him too. After the questions about the mission and if they were all fine, Steve was the first to ask about y/n’s whereabouts.
“Have you seen y/n today?” He asked Bucky, but the latter didn’t have time to answer because at that moment the woman entered the common room with two large plates full of chocolate chip cookies.
“Hey guys” she greeted them all with a wide smile and Sam was the first one to go to her, take the plates from her hands and pecked her cheek lightly.
Steve went up to her next, enveloping her in a warm hug which she happily returned. “How are you?” He asked in a hushed voice, only for her to hear.
“I’m okay. How are you? The mission went okay?”
He nodded and kissed her head.
Bucky was watching them from his seat, almost fuming at how lovingly his best friend and y/n were acting.
Everyone knew that after rescuing her from Hydra’s hands, Steve became her rock, the person she would go to every time she needed someone to talk to, or someone to hold her. His caring, nurturing nature had easily made her trust in him, open up to him with her mind and her heart, helping her become better and helping her heal.
Everyone also knew that there was nothing more than platonic brotherly love between them both, but Bucky couldn’t help the bitter taste of jealousy he’d get in his mouth and stomach every time he saw her with Steve.
He kept telling himself that he was jealous that she was keeping his best friend from him, what with Steve spending most of his free time with her, but he knew that wasn’t really true. He just couldn’t admit it to anyone, even himself that yet.
They all sat together around the couches and chairs, talking and eating y/n’s delicious cookies, when y/n directed her gaze to Bucky and silently nudged one of the plates in his direction, asking him to have one.
He just looked at her for a brief moment, as if not believing her gesture, and then got up from his seat.
“I don’t want your stupid cookies.” Was all he said before he left the room entirely, leaving everyone on the team surprised by his words, and y/n hurt in her very core.
She didn’t know what she had done to him, but she knew that she didn’t deserve his attitude. She tried to swallow the lump that formed in her throat and averted her eyes to her lap. Steve that was sitting next to her, with his arm around her shoulders, furrowed his brows in disappointment at his best friend.
“Don’t mind him. You know how Bucky is.” He said trying to justify the man’s actions, but he knew the first thing he had to do later was go to Bucky and give him a piece of his mind. Y/n just shrugged and gave him a small smile to let her know she wasn’t hurt, but Steve knew that wasn’t true.
He knew how much Bucky would hurt y/n with his attitude towards her, he had witnessed Bucky being mean for no reason to y/n several times, but he couldn’t understand why his pal had to do so.
The atmosphere in the room shifted awkwardly after Bucky’s disappearance, but only for a few moments, because Sam was quick to crack a joke and try to restore the humor.
***
Missions are always hard, with the exception of a few here and there where they get lucky to get in, get the job done and get out without any scratches on them. This time though, luck was not on their side.
Steve, Bucky, Sam and Natasha had all been in a mission in Germany, raiding a Hydra base, while the rest of the team were doing the same in Russia, shutting down the same experiment operation that Hydra was conducting.
When they returned, they were all miserable, beaten down and tired, faces and bodies covered in blood and  scars.
Y/n had been feeling guilty for not being able to help the team anymore every since her capture, so not being one to just stand around and do nothing while her family and friends risked her life to save the world, she started to work in the medical bay, tending to their wounds every time they needed the care.
This time was no different, she was prepared for their arrival hours ago, Natasha notifying her of the situation of each member.
As soon as the jet landed in the hangar, she ran towards her friends and helped them to the med bay. They all looked like they had been through hell. And she knew it was true. Hydra was hell and she had lived in that hell herself for three months a couple of years ago.
She began with Natasha, cleaning and suturing a deep gash on her hairline, assessing to her other wounds, a knife slashing in her upper arm, a couple of bruises in her ribs. After finishing with her she went to Steve, who had a busted lip and a few broken ribs, but ever the stubborn person he was, he insisted he was okay.
“You should see Bucky. He has a bullet wound in his abdomen and I think his shoulder is dislocated.” He informed her in a hushed but quick voice.
Her eyes widened and she asked another nurse to tend to him before she went to see Bucky.
Bucky was sitting at the end of the med bay, head hanging low and the breaths he was taking were short and shallow. Because of his past trauma and everything, he didn’t let anyone take care of him except from doctor Cho, who he had learned to trust with time, but unfortunately the woman wasn’t in the States at all that day.
Now Bucky was losing blood, sitting in an uncomfortable chair, not letting anyone take care of him.
Y/n approached him with careful steps, not wanting to startle him. “Hey, Bucky.” she spoke in a soft tone that was usually directed to him.
He picked up his head to look at her but said nothing. He was paler than she had ever seen him, surely he must have lost a lot of blood.
“Will you let me look at your wounds?  Steve said you’re shot-”
She didn’t get to finish her sentence because he abruptly got up from his chair, making the way out of the med bay.
“I don’t need your help.”
His voice was hoarse and a little weak, but she could sense the animosity in his tone. Her heart broke a little from him words, but she couldn’t say anything to him. She wished things were different between them.
He took three more steps in the direction of the door and before he could leave the room, his knees gave out and he collapsed on the floor with a loud thud.
Three heads turned to the source of the noise and y/n gasped in horror when she saw Bucky fall down, but she immediately reacted and went to his side, helping him on his back and assessing to his wound.
Steve and Sam helped her get Bucky in one of the surgery tables where she had to get the bullet out and see his wound before he died of blood hemorrhage.
*
Bucky woke up feeling his head pounding. He opened his eyes with a little difficulty and first thing he saw was all white. White walls, white room, white sheets, and a person in a white coat sleeping in a chair next to his bed, her head tucked next to his thigh, two petite hands holding his metal hand in a firm grip.
When he saw who was next to him, Bucky’s heart started hammering in his chest, but he couldn’t let her be there. Despite feeling bad for having to wake her up, because she looked as if she hadn’t slept in days, he had to, before he did some stupid thing he would regret later.
He retracted his hand rather harshly from her hold and y/n startled awake, looking frantically around the room for any source of danger.
When her eyes met his she let out a sigh of relief and a small smile formed in her lips.
“You’re awake.”
“What are you doing here?” He asked in a gruffly voice, hoarse from disuse. Despite having saved his life, he still couldn’t stand to be in the same room as her.
“I’m sorry, I was just sitting in the chair and then fell asleep…” she was trying to find excuses for her presence there, but Bucky was having none of it.
He gave her what she understood to be a repulsed look and asked for Steve. The smile never leaving her lips, she nodded her head and quit the room quickly.
Despite everything he did to her, she couldn’t hate him, she couldn’t resent him. She felt too deeply for Bucky and it was killing her, but she couldn’t stop being nice to him. He deserved all the kindness in the world, no matter what.
She made a quick walk to Steve’s room and informed him about Bucky being awake. While talking to him she kept her easy smile and normal composure, but as soon as she retreated to her room, the pain came all at once, crushing her, causing her to fall down to her knees and cry her eyes out.
She sobbed and sobbed and felt the pain pierce through her chest, but she couldn’t help but still care for Bucky. All she needed to do was let out all the hurt and pain in the confines of her room and then get out, put a fake smile on her face and carry on taking care of Bucky and the rest of the team as if nothing had happened.
She had been practicing this kind of ritual for a long time, lately more often than not and she was used to it. She knew she was hurting but she couldn’t stop caring. It was her blessing and her curse.
***
The next time they were left alone together was a few months later during a week long visit in Wakanda. T'Challa had welcomed them in their palace, offering each and one of them personal chambers. It just happened that Bucky’s and y/n’s bedrooms were next to each other.
It was almost 3 am and with all the people living in the palace sleeping a peaceful quiet had embraced the atmosphere. Bucky couldn’t sleep, so he was writing in his journal his latest thoughts. Despite having gained all of his memories back and having them sorted in order, he kept writing in a journal, it helped him with his feelings, especially with the ones for y/n.
Speaking of her, he was just writing about the last time he had seen her in the compound, tired and consumed, eyes with dark circles under them and shoulders slumped, almost as she had given up in herself.
He had never seen her like that, even when he had just returned from Wakanda to become part of the Avengers, just a little after she was rescued from Hydra. Her smile, her pretty smile she always wore no matter what, was missing and Bucky couldn’t help but feel responsible and guilty for the state she was in.
He had been horrible towards her, but she never complained and despite his rudeness she kept being kind to him, treating him with extra care and tenderness, but he kept being mean to her. He felt like the biggest asshole in the world.
He was just closing his notebook to go to bed when he heard her blood curdling screams echoing through the walls. He was immediately on panic, running to her door to save her from any threat she might be facing.
Even though the king’s palace was one of the safest places on Earth, Bucky couldn’t help but fear that she was in real danger, if her screams were any indication.
He ran to her room and opened the door in a hurry, but instead of finding any threat there, he was met with her figure thrashing on the bed, kicking and yelling to the top of her lungs for help.
She was having a nightmare.
He was frozen in place, just looking at her living in a terror, before he reacted and without a second thought went to her bed to wake her up.
As he got closer he noticed there were tears in her eyes, and his heart broke for the innocent girl suffering. Bucky was very familiar to the nightmares and he knew that she must have them too, after the pain and torture she went through, but he had never heard her, their rooms in the compound being in different floors.
Without losing any more seconds he closed the distance with her and wrapped his arms around her, one hand getting the hair out of her face, patting them securely behind her ears. She was still screaming in his arms.
“Y/n wake up sweetheart.” He began talking in a sweet soothing voice. “Come on, wake up, it’s okay, it’s just a dream.” He continued speaking to her and caressing her cheeks with his fingertips.
She woke up startled, her eyes opening in shock and pushing at him to let her go.
“No, let me go!” She yelled but she only tightened his hold around her shoulders and kept on whispering to her ears.
“It’s me y/n, it’s Bucky. You’re safe now. It’s okay.”
Soon enough she calmed down and let her weight down in his arms, shoulders slumping forward and arms clinging to him for dear life.
“Bucky..” she muttered in a breathless voice and began to cry with loud sobs.
His heart was breaking seeing her like this, so he kept rocking her back and forth in his arms, trying to soothe her.
“It’s okay. It’s over now. You’re here, you’re safe.” He kept talking to her while his hands were rubbing up and down her back, helping with her calming down.
Eventually her breathing evened and she was quiet in his arms, but her hands hadn’t loosen their grip on his shirt at all. He kept hugging her and rocking her and whispering sweet nothings in her ears and he wasn’t planning on moving if it wasn’t for y/n who a few minutes after having calmed down went stiff in his arms and retreated her body from his.
“I’m sorry you had to come and wake me up.”
Her voice was small and hoarse from all the screaming, but Bucky heard it loud and clearly.
“I’m sorry you have nightmares.” He replied to her. She looked up to his eyes in surprise, not having expected him to say that.
Of course even having him there was a surprise in itself, but she guessed he just had to come and wake her up because her screaming was disturbing his sleep.
She shook her head.
“It’s not your fault.”
“But it is. I made your days a real nightmare too. I’m sorry y/n.”
He wiped the tears out of her cheeks and then took one of her hands in his and started playing mindlessly with her fingers.
“Buck..”
“Yeah?” His eyes met her in a hopeful glance, he didn’t know what she was about to say next, but he wanted to be there for her now, he didn’t want to leave her side.
“Why do you hate me?” Her seemingly nonchalant question made him shudder. He didn’t hate her. Of course he didn’t. But the way he acted towards her said otherwise.
He locked eyes with her for a moment and slowly started closing the distance between them.
“I don’t.” He answered simply and his lips met hers in a short and hesitant kiss.
At first she didn’t react to his lips on hers, but then she returned his kiss, just as timid as him, for a quick second and then she was the first to end it.
“I’m sorry. I should better go.” He said in a hurried voice, clearly embarrassed. He got up from the bed and made to leave the room, but her next words stopped him right in his tracks.
“Please don’t.”
It was barely a whisper and  if he didn’t have super soldier hearing he would probably miss it. But he heard her, and his head whipped around to see her already looking at him expectantly.
He turned back and sat on her bed again, and she nearly crawled to get close to him and curled to his chest, trying to protect herself from the outside world in his embrace.
Bucky circled his arms around her shoulders and moved them to a laying position, to be more comfortable.
“I’m sorry for everything, doll. I know I hurt you and I have no excuse for being such a jerk to you. I don’t deserve your tenderness and kindness, but you always go out of your way to make me feel better and for that I’m eternally grateful. I’m so sorry for causing you pain and hurting you when you didn’t deserve it at all.”
She just hugged him tighter and sighed in relief.
“It’s okay Buck. Everything is okay.”
That night they fell asleep in each other’s arms and it was the very first night of the best sleeps of their lives. In the morning they would talk it all out.
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leavaloo · 5 years ago
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Applin To Give and to Kick Ass
Hi guys! As most of you know, I’ve been extremely busy lately and also dealing with some shit on the side, so I wasn’t able to write anything for Valentines Day! I know, such a crime that an imagines blog didn’t post on V-Day. It’s okay! I’ll make it up to you here~
As a further notice, I will be deleting most of my inbox requests, as a lot of them have been sitting for a while. I apologize to those who are left, but this is needed.
Anyways, have some Raihan V-Day fluff!
Raihan knew a lot about dragons. Like, a lot. Dragon expert to the core, so much so that he ended up taking on some of their draconic qualities. Like protectiveness, jealousy, and every once in a while, a growl. Raihan also knew a lot about the Applin tales, as per his title as dragon expert and the vault keeper. Yet for some reason, he didn’t think that they would play a part in his life, until now.
Applins were fairly common in Galar as a declaration of love, and because of his titles, he had been asked so many times of where to find them, how to breed the right one, yadda yadda. Even some gym leaders like Nessa had asked his advice on this topic. And now, with Valentines day coming up, it was all the rage.
You had been champion for some time now, and already you were proving to be both formidable, dependable, and breathtaking. You didn’t use the typical cape that Leon wore, and instead, made your own outfit that made it look like you were dancing whenever a particularly powerful move whipped your dress around. Honestly, you treated a lot of your matches like a contest, and it had garnered you a lot of attention, and possible suitors.
That’s why Raihan never felt like he had a chance. You were beautiful! Even a lot of the other gym leaders had been talking about you, some of them wondering if you were single. That was when Raihan figured out how jealous he was. He all but snapped at Milo when directed a question about it at him, but he played it off that he was just stressed recently and apologized.
A day before Valentines day, you waltzed into his gym. He wasn’t expecting it, and he was honestly caught off guard. Even in your casual attire, you were striking. You were asking for some documents, and so Raihan lead you back to his office, and all the while, he had a difficult time even looking in your direction.
“Working right before Valentines day? I would’ve thought you’d wanna lay low.” He finally sent one of his signature smiles your way, trying to lighten the heaviness in his heart.
You chuckled and smiled back. “Honestly, me moving about makes it harder for the fanboys to track me. I don’t need anymore applin in my boxes, which might be entirely your fault.”
Raihan sheepishly laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeaaah... sorry about that.” He remembered the onslaught of guys who had sought him out in the previous weeks, all asking for applin advice.
“Though, I guess it gave me some good applins to get my own ideal one.”
Raihan’s eyes snapped over to you, looking over your figure. You were looking straight ahead, small grin on your face and a tiny blush on your cheeks. You had someone in mind for this applin. He figured he might as well test the waters, if not only to quell his own internal panic.
“‘Ideal applin’, huh? Does this applin have an intended recipient?”
You laughed, following the dragon up the stairs to his office. “It does, yes. Do you have an applin for someone, Raihan?”
I did, he thought to himself, but shook his head. “No. The person I would give it to has probably already been taken.”
You feigned a surprised gasp. “The infamous Raihan, with so many thousands of fangirls, somehow doesn’t get his feelings reciprocated?! How cruel!”
Finally, he was able to laugh. He hadn’t been able to do that in a while, what with him stressing, but you always managed to make his mood lighter. Though the dread of him not being your chosen recipient shot through him again when he opened the door to his office. “After you,” he purred. If there was one thing Raihan was good at, it was acting.
As he searched for the required documents, you wandered around his office, looking at all of the different dragon type memorabilia. It took longer than expected, because every time he looked up, you were happily smiling at another picture on his walls. Some were from Lance’s time, another was a championship match from Unova with Iris, and some legendary dragons were sprinkled in there.
After searching all of the file cabinets, his desk and some other places, he got everything together and handed it to you. They were all about how the power plant fared after the recent events with the Darkest Day, and as he approached you, he noticed that your demeanor became... fidgety. Your blush was more prominent, and you wouldn’t look him in the eyes. You just smiled, took the documents, said goodbye and rushed out the door before Raihan could say anything.
With a frown on his face, he sighed and went to sit as his desk. He leaned back in the chair, a huge sigh coursing through his body. It was then that he noticed a new addition to his desk. He furrowed his eyes and leaned forward to look at it closer. A loveball pokeball, sitting there and facing him. His heart rose in his chest, almost scared to touch it. His hands didn’t even meet the pokeball when the familiar blue light popped out, situating itself firmly on his lap.
An applin. Not just any applin. A shiny, bright green applin, already fast asleep on his lap. He couldn’t even make any sound, he was so shocked. His heart was racing a million miles an hour, he could barely process that it was holding two things. A sweet apple, and a note.
Dear Raihan,
I’m not very good at this love stuff, and I know this is really cliche, but this is the easiest way to get my feelings across. This applin is specifically bred to not only be shiny, but also have everything you need to make a badass competitive mon. I figured you already had someone special, so I just wanted to make this quick and easy. I didn’t want to hold it in anymore.
P.S. I’d like to grab some coffee with you sometime.
[Y/N]
Raihan read over the note several times, a smile brimming on his face. Then he took out his phone, held the sleeping applin up to his chest in a warm embrace, and snapped a selfie. He pulled up your text chain with him and sent the picture.
Raihan, 12:59pm
you know you could’ve stayed right
A couple seconds later, he got a ding, and wondered if you had expected something along these lines.
Cutie Bean, 1:00pm
I’M SORRY OKAY I GET NERVOUS
Cutie Bean, 1:00pm
I wanted to stay but I was... to scared.
Raihan, 1:01pm
did u really need those documents? lol
Cutie Bean, 1:01pm
...Yes, but I figured I’d leave that there too...
Raihan, 1:01pm
well, i think i’ll name her Cutie Pie after what I have you in my phone
Raihan, 1:02pm
besides, i think a coffee date tomorrow would be absolutely perfect, my cute little dragon <3
Raihan, 1:02pm
unless u have other plans? :(
Cutie Bean, 1:03pm
You’re my plan now <3
Cutie Bean, 1:03pm
Shit I have to find something to wear.
For the rest of the day, you and Raihan were texting back and forth. Everyone was wondering why he suddenly looked so happy after sulking for almost two weeks straight, but then they noticed the applin sleeping happily in the hood of his hoodie. The more that Raihan looked at Cutie Pie, he realized just how terrifying of a mon this could be. Amazing IV’s, right nature, hidden ability. He vowed to not only kiss you till the sun rose, but also someday kick your ass with this girl. If she were to ever wake up.
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flamehairedwritings · 4 years ago
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The Fiancé: Chapter Six
Characters: Steve Rogers x Female Plus-Size Reader
Rating: The whole series will be E, 18+ ONLY
Summary: A lie about your best friend at a Christmas party spirals into world news, but a previously unknown threat leaves you having to now live the lie of Steve Rogers being your fiancé.
Originally based on the prompt ‘Character A’s ex will be at the Christmas Party A is attending. Character B poses as A’s fiancé,’ by @alloftheprompts.
A/N: The whole series will include swearing, alcohol, threat, violence, apartment sharing, protected sex, and more tags to be added!
The title has been taken from the Ella Fitzgerald song of the same name.
The Fiancé Masterlist
All Works Masterlist
Read on AO3
Please don’t copy or steal my work, and please don’t post it on any other sites; credit does not count.
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It’s Only A Paper Moon
WEDNESDAY
“I am in heaven.”
“Doll’, this is Y/N’s wedding, not yours.”
“We have the whole place to ourselves, I can try on one thing, right?” 
Well, the first part of that is true. Sitting on a couch not designed for sitting on, you play with your hands in your lap as your gaze travels the room. Nat had, she’d told you before you’d left that morning, bought the whole place out, for the sake of sensationalism, security and it just seemed like something a very famous person would do.
‘Sensationalism’ is so far so successful; there is a crowd of people similar in size to the one at the cake shop outside, trying to look through the French windows, though you’re located at the back of the shop. As for security, it means Nat doesn’t have to plant people inside and you won’t get crowded and overwhelmed by people coming up to you, and for seeming like something a famous person would do? Yeah, probably, you don’t know.
“Just have some fun,” Nat had said as you’d gone down in the elevator. “It’s just trying on some dresses and having a fun time with your friends.”
Fun.
You’d nearly laughed. But, you’d just smiled and nodded, because that’s what you do now, smile and nod and go along with things. If you don’t, that leads to conversations, and conversations lead to you having to admit to things, like the panic attack you’d had that morning as you’d dressed or the fact you have feelings for your best friend and every moment of this week is both wonderful and torturous. 
Speaking of... you haven’t seen Steve today.
Last night, after you’d woken up from your nap, you’d showered, masturbated while in there, ‘cause, hey, things had only gotten more stressful, and changed and wandered downstairs, but Steve was nowhere to be seen. Then you’d heard sounds of machines in the gym room and realised he was working out. He’d left a note for you on the island, though, saying there were leftovers in the oven of what he’d cooked. You’d eaten alone, watching TV.
You did that for about two hours, and Steve didn’t emerge once, still working out. You hadn’t thought anything of it, though, he is super-human. So, you’d gone to bed, leaving him a note in return saying thank you, you hadn’t wanted to disturb him and that you were going to bed, with a little drawn smiley face.
There’d been no note when you’d come down after calming yourself and pulling your shoes on, not wanting to be caught out like yesterday morning, just Nat.
But space is good for you two.
Even if you never usually go this long without at least messaging each other.
But this isn’t a ‘usually’ time.
“Y/N?”
The Christmas jazz music filters back into your hearing as your head snaps up to look at Dolly, sat on a gorgeous pale pink shell chair, her big eyes wider than usual.
“Yeah, sorry?”
Her smile is wide and her eyes seem to be only getting wider. “I can try on one thing, right?”
You nod as you smile. “Uh, yeah. As bridesmaids, you probably actually should try something.”
She releases a sound akin to a squeal and claps her hands together. “Great! What colour do you want for us?”
“Uh...” Oh, you know this, you talked about it with Nat in the car... “... Red.”
Bridget looks at you, then exhales a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God, I thought you were gonna carry on and say ‘white and blue’.”
Your lips twitch as you tilt your head. “Come on, we’re not gonna be that on the nose.”
Bridget raises their eyebrows but before they can retort a woman, Sally, appears with an ice bucket, a bottle of champagne inside, and three glasses. All three of you give some kind of very grateful sound before thanking her as she sets them down on the glass table before you. You also all cheer as she pops the champagne, (God, who are we... desperate for free alcohol, that’s who), and thank her again as she fills the glasses and hands one to you each.
Beaming, she stands back, her hands clasped together. “Can I get anything else for y’all?”
You hum as you quickly swallow your mouthful. “Mmh. Yes, please. Do you have any dresses in red, for these two?”
She glances at them, her gaze sweeping over them and you realise she’s expertly measuring them, and nods. “Absolutely. What style would you like?”
“Uh, any, we’ve got time.”
Her beam grows as she nods. “Wonderful, I’ll be five minutes.”
You take another sip as she trots off to the back room. Much like at the cake shop, you’d said to the shop attendants assisting you, all five of them now having nothing to do but assist you, that you will try everything and anything. Like Damilola, they’d looked delighted, probably used to, as you’d seen on reality shows, people coming in with very specific requests.
And, boy, do you all have the time to try every damn thing on. Dolly and Bridget have the day off, Yvette being very understanding at the short notice, officially, though unofficially she probably isn’t too pleased to not have her best receptionist and the Head of IT on the same day.
Who am I kidding, she never breaks a sweat. Probably a good time to get those interns trained up, too.
You also have the time as you were meant to be visiting two places today, though the first hadn’t exactly gone to plan. In other words, you’d walked out.
“Oh, our, uhm, our plus-size section isn’t very large.”
You fold your arms as Bridget raises their eyebrows and Dolly narrows her eyes.
“Oh? And why not?”
The woman, Candace, looks between you, her cheeks pink. “Oh, because we, uhm...”
You raise your eyebrows, placing your hands on the counter. “I’m about to blow your mind, Candace, but bigger people get married, too. And you’ve just lost my custom.”
You’d walked out seconds after, a smug smile hinting on your lips as Candace had called after you, practically begging for you to return, that they could order whatever you wanted in, but you’d just kept walking, Bridget telling Candace to save it as Dolly looped her arm through yours.
Nat had apologised profusely once you’d gotten into the SUV she was going to spend the day ferrying you three around in, saying it hadn’t occurred to her to check, as Dolly and Bridget had stared at her, still unused to being in her presence.
Of course it hadn’t occurred to her.
This place, though, The Pearl... It’s gorgeous. Despite not having felt offended at the last place, just angry and exasperated, you couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated. What if this was going to be your whole day? Going from place to place just because they were dumb and exclusionary? You’d felt welcomed the moment you walked in, though, all five assistants and Sally smiling as they greeted each of you in turn, and all Sally, obviously the senior member from how she led the conversation, had done was ask you your usual dress size and that had been it.
You look at the interior again, taking in the pale pink and white walls, framed photos on them of dresses or models in them, or real people on their wedding days in them, the plush cream carpet, the crystal chandeliers, the gorgeously decorated Christmas trees in each corner, the fairy lights adorning the counter by the front door.
Yeah... I can have fun here. And why the fuck not? Trying on dresses is always fun, no matter what, and there’s free champagne and I’m here with Dolly and Bridge’.
Sitting back on the pale pink couch, the tightening in your chest easing, you sip your champagne with a smile.
Am I a champagne person now? This week’s telling me yes.
Bridget stretches their legs out as they sigh contentedly. Looking at you, they smile softly. “How are you feeling about the interview?”
You pull a face as you hold the glass between both hands. “You know about that?”
“Uh, it’s been trending on Twitter for the last two days is all anyone’s talking about.”
You groan as you take another, longer sip.
“So how do you feel?” Dolly gently repeats the question.
You smile lightly, looking between them with raised brows. “How do you think?”
She smiles softly, endearing assurance in her tone. “You’re gonna be fine, Y/N.”
 You open your mouth, then close it. Then again... you can talk about it freely with these two, they’ll understand without feeling guilty or worrying too much or treating you like a breakable vase.
You exhale a breath, one you feel like you’ve been holding for days. “I don’t know, it’s live and we haven’t been able to get an idea of what they’re gonna ask yet and... I just don’t want to think about it too much, really.”
Bridget rests their arm on the back of the couch, turning their body to you. “That’s not like you. I’ve watched you spend months preparing for one meeting.”
“That’s different.”
“No, it’s not.” They point a finger at you. “This is a meeting, and you’re pitching your marriage.”
You have no idea how close to the truth that is.
You take a breath. “Can I practise on you two, then?”
Both of them perk up, smiles wide.
“Absolutely!” Dolly enthuses. “We’ve been dying for you to tell us all the details, we’ve been so patient.”
“And a little bit offended,” Bridget adds good-naturedly with an arched brow.
“I know, I know,” you smile, even as your chest twinges.
“It’s fine, two birds, one stone, you can make up for it now and practise,” Bridget says, holding their glass on their knee and fixing you with an expectant gaze and adopting a stereotypical news reader voice. “So, how did this happen, when was the first kiss, the first fondle, the engagement, I want every dirty detail, and the romantic details, too.”
“Okay,” you say through your laughter as Dolly giggles. “All right, all right... God, I’m gonna need more champagne.”
He could see the headline now; Cap Goes To Seek Former Flame’s Approval!
At least it would be better than the one’s that had been written when he’d gone on two dates with Sharon. Had that been why they’d both ended it? The media pressure, the questions, the constant hounding? No, but maybe that had been a factor in it. Sharon is great, but... He hadn’t felt a real connection, and neither had she.
He’d only felt that connection a few times in his life, so he knew when something was worth fighting for.
"Engaged, hm?” Peggy Carter fixes him with her gaze, an eyebrow arched, and, God, nothing ever passes her by, not even now.
A smile pulling at his lips, he raises his own eyebrows a little. “Peg—”
She exhales a laugh. “You can’t tell me, I understand.” Lacing her fingers together on her stomach, she smiles. “I do like her.”
“You’ve never met her,” he reminds her gently.
“I know,” she adjusts her head on her pillow, “but the way you talk about her makes me like her. How is she doing with all of this?”
He nods, his own hands clasped together. “Okay, I think. She’s tough.”
Peggy looks at him, her jaw moving minutely. “Hm.”
“What?”
Her lips lift a little, her features soft. “People called me tough. Said I handled things okay. But I can’t tell you how many times I cried in my office, then pulled myself together. I don’t mind crying, it’s very therapeutic, but I would have hated them to see me do it, hated what they would have twisted it into. Or even some of my friends, how they might have gently told me to maybe cut back my hours or something like that, to take on less. But just because I cried it didn’t mean I couldn’t handle matters.”
Steve opens his mouth when she continues, “Did you know that after you went into the ice our relationship is all anyone wanted to talk to me about? Interview me about? Even when I became Director of SHIELD the same questions followed me around, ‘What do you think Steve would think? Would he be proud? Do you still miss him?’”
Something in him twists as he looks at her. “I’m sorry, Peg.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “Lord, I’m not saying it to make you feel bad, Steve, still so dramatic...” Her features soften again, but her gaze fixes on his. “I’m just trying to give a little perspective, having been in the position she is. It’s not easy.”
He exhales a long breath, his shoulders dropping a little. “That’s what I’m afraid of, actually.”
Her brow dips. “What do you mean?”
“Like you just said, it’s not easy being with me.”
“Steve Rogers...” His gaze, having lowered, meets hers again, and he finds it faintly incredulous. “... It’s the easiest thing in the world being with you. You are easy to be with. It’s the rest of the world that’s the problem.”
A corner of his mouth lifts. “I liked where that was goin’ but that last part doesn’t make me feel any better.”
She huffs out a laugh, tilting her head. “But the rest of the world doesn’t matter, though, does it? Not if you’re with someone you love, hm?”
He looks at her, his lips lifting a little higher. “No, it doesn’t.”
“... So, it was only a couple of weeks ago... We were out at the park we like to walk in, you know the one, I go on about it all the time, the trees are always on my Instagram ‘cause it’s just so pretty, ‘nd it’s quiet, y’know, we’re in the middle of winter, and it’s dark, no one wants to really be out walking, except us...”
 You’ve had a bit more champagne than you probably should, but, hey, go away, morals, this is a nice story.
“... so we’re walking, and we’re just talking, and then we stop, and we’re looking up at the stars...”
Dolly, Bridget, Sally, and the other five shop assistants, Donna, Nicole, Max, Jamie and Priya all sigh together at the imagery, and your eyebrows raise and you nod in an expression of, ‘I know’.
“... and then he just gets down on one knee and asks me to marry him.”
They all sigh again, a couple of them putting their hands to their chests and ‘aww’ing and you nod as you sip your champagne because, yeah, that is very cute.
Good one, me.
“What did he say? How did he ask you?” Max asks, all the assistants bunched together on a long couch they’d dragged over.
You take another, longer sip of champagne because what did he say...
“... Oh, well, that’s just between me and him,” you say with a coy smile and they all boo good-naturedly.
Nice one.
“That’s such a lovely story,” Sally smiles warmly and you return it before raising your eyebrows.
“Shall we carry on trying these gorgeous dresses?”
They all cheer and the assistants get to their feet and scurry off to the back to find more for you and Dolly and Bridget. You look at your two friends, Dolly in a yellow ballgown, Bridget in a multi-coloured floral suit, and beam. You are wearing an ivory lace number that hugs your figure and then flows out just below your hips, and are trying very hard not to spill champagne on it.
The session had quickly escalated into Dolly and Bridget trying on whatever they wanted between red dresses, and you just putting on whatever was brought out. You’d told Sally you were here to get an idea of what you wanted, but that you’d be returning very soon. Nat has scheduled in another dress shopping day for Friday and you’d quickly messaged her about half an hour ago while you were changing to cancel wherever that was and make it here. She hadn’t argued.
You’re also giving little bits of details here and there to practise for the interview, your first kiss (at your place after watching a film), when you’d said I love you, (at his place after having dinner and watching a film together), and the story of how he proposed. You’re going to have to remember all this to tell Steve, though, so you keep making notes on your phone as you get changed.
You’ve also sent him a message because you still haven’t spoken.
You know he’s with Peggy, though, so he absolutely won’t be checking his phone, but... 
It just feels strange.
“Right...” Your attention comes back into the room as Sally and Jamie appear with an armful of dresses each, “... We have a vintage style one here that we think y’all are gonna love.”
Dolly claps her hands together as Bridget gasps dramatically.
“Vintage? Oh, he’s absolutely gonna love that.”
You don’t know why that makes you feel warm. It’s not like he’s actually going to see you in it... Unless...
“... Thank you so much! ... We will! We’ll see you Friday!”
You have to practically drag Dolly out of the back doors of The Pearl, the three of you giggling as you wave at the assistants. Who knew you could become such firm friends with people in the space of in five hours? Well, two bottles of champagne will do that.
You’re on the higher end of tipsy, in a lovely, warm, chatty way, and you have lined your stomach and soaked some of it up, Sally having ordered you all food so you wouldn’t have to leave and 1) Face the crowd, and 2) You couldn’t be bothered to leave, really.
The crowd is also the reason you’re leaving out the back doors, none of you wanting to face the horde outside. It has grown throughout the day, people desperate to get even the tiniest glimpse of you and what you’re wearing. Priya had closed the curtains after an hour, though, and they’d had two of their security guards stationed outside the front doors and it was just bliss. You’d had the chance to forget all about the outside world and just have some fun. Moving across the staff parking lot for The Pearl and a couple of surrounding shops, people haven’t had the chance to get in because it’s guarded, and the man whose job that is looks up from his newspaper in his little station, then looks back down.
Bliss.
Nat waits for you in the SUV, those sunglasses on, one hand leaning against the steering wheel.
“Such a ‘top’ pose,” Bridget stage-whispers and you’re all falling into giggles again.
You’re still gigging as you climb into the car, you in the passenger seat, Dolly and Bridget behind you. Nat’s lips twitch as she raises an eyebrow.
“Did we all have a fun time?”
“So fun.” Dolly, who is usually the most intimidated by Nat, which isn’t surprising considering she has a crush on her and they’ve both only met her three times before, including today, launches into a glowing review of the shop and day, “Everyone was so nice and the dresses and suits and jumpsuits and shoes are gorgeous, I can’t wait until we go back, oh my God, it’s all I’m gonna think about tomorrow...”
Nat’s smile lingers on her lips as she heads towards Dolly’s apartment, Dolly carrying on for the whole journey with Bridget occasionally butting in to add a comment. You laugh the whole way, your cheeks almost hurting from how much you’ve been grinning.
Nat parks up outside Dolly’s building, and turns in her seat, pushing her sunglasses up onto her head and meeting Dolly’s gaze, which provokes a pink blush to rise on her cheeks.
“Sounds like a really good day, then.”
Dolly just nods now, swallowing lightly. “Yep.”
Glancing from her to Bridget, Nat smiles and you think you hear Bridget let out the quietest of sounds. Wanting to save them both, or maybe they don’t want to be saved, they could be loving gazing into her eyes, who knows at this point, you turn to them, too.
“Oke doke, we’ll see you later, Doll’, I’ll text you when Sam and I are on the way.”
Bridget’s eyes whip to you, their mouth dropping open. “Sam’s picking us up?!”
You can’t stop your smile from widening, your eyebrows rising. “Yeah.”
“Oh my God, right, I need to go home and get ready now, Doll’ get out, I only have three hours, oh my God...”
Dolly is laughing so hard she nearly trips out of the SUV, and one hand is on your chest as the other wipes at your eyes as you laugh. Dolly waves from the pavement as she grins before she trots into the building, and all feelings of intimidation have left Bridget as they point ahead.
“Step on it, Nat, this is a national emergency, go...”
Nat just shakes her head as she turns back around, but she’s still smiling and you’re still laughing. “All right, all right, don’t worry, hold on...”
And, boy, does she mean it.
How does she drive this fast and this safely.
There’s just something about getting ready for a night-out while you’re tipsy. 
Sometimes, if you haven’t had a chance to pre-drink, you have a few moments of ‘ugh, do I really want to go out, I can’t be bothered, there’s that new show out, I’m so tired, oh my God, what if I do something embarrassing...’ but now, the champagne having only worn off a little from what you made yourself for dinner, and, okay, it probably didn’t help that you also made yourself an alcoholic beverage to have with it, you’re still quite buzzed.
Steve hadn’t been home yet and Nat had left a few minutes after making sure you were inside the penthouse so you’d been able to play your music and yell along to it. You’d been able to take your time getting ready, trying on a few outfits before settling on a true classic number that makes a lot of appearances on nights out because 1) you look amazing in it, and 2) you look really damn amazing in it.
You’d even, Nat having requested it, taken a selfie once you were ready and uploaded it to your Instagram story, along with a few gifs of glasses clinking together and someone dancing.
Job done, you’d returned to the group chat you have with Dolly and Bridget and sent them the picture, accompanied with, ‘time to fuckin party’. You could send them a picture of you in a bin bag and they’d still reply with the same thing they do for every photo, and you would for them.
Bridge’ 🌟: Y E S
Dolly ✨: WHO IS SHE???
Bridge’ 🌟: INCREDIBLE, SHOW STOPPING, AMAZING, ICONIC, LIFE CHANGING
Dolly ✨: I LOVE IT
They swiftly send their own photos.
You: LOOK AT US
Bridge’ 🌟: WHO ARE WE
God, they’re great.
You ignored the slight, unpleasant flip in your stomach at seeing Steve’s message, that he sent an hour ago and you haven’t replied to yet.
I hope you had a good day, have fun tonight x
You message each other every day so you never send ‘kisses’, so this just makes you think he’s done it to soften the blow of a slightly blunt message. Is it blunt? Or are you reading too much in to it? He has had a busy day based on what Nat told you when she’d driven you to the penthouse. He was seeing Peggy all day and then going over to Bucky’s to see him, and then they are going to have their own night out.
That’s busy, right.
Whatever, he doesn’t have to reply all the time, it’s fine.
You reply:
Thanks, you too! :-) x 
Which is the kind of reply you’d give to someone at work.
You’d ignored your phone vibrating as people, strangers, react to your Instagram story, slipped it into your bag and headed downstairs.
If you were an ego-maniac, Sam’s reaction on top of your friends would just make your head explode.
“Well, hello, ma’am!”
“Oh, stop it.”
“Nu-uh, let me look at you... Wo-ow. You look amazing.”
“Stop it... but thank you, I know.”
The moment you got into his SUV, (does everyone get one the moment they join SHIELD?) he has music playing that you can both sing along and dance in your seats to. Bridget had told you to pick them up last to give them more time so you swing by Dolly’s place first and she looks gorgeous as always in a short, glittery pink dress with matching eyeshadow and lipstick, her blonde hair curled and bouncing.
You give little squeals as you see each other, despite having only seen each other a few hours ago, and she’s definitely still buzzed, too. Sam gives her the same reaction he gave you and, God, you love him.
As you pull up outside Bridget’s building, you can’t stop meeting Dolly’s gaze in the rear-view mirror, your lips twitching. She’s doing a worst job than you at hiding her smile, her hand in front of her mouth, and you’re both trying so hard to stop a laugh.
It escapes when he gets out of the car and closes the door and you’re both turning in your seats to stare at Bridget as they walk out, gorgeous as always in a buttoned up, black blazer with no shirt underneath and matching black shorts, one side of their head freshly shaved. Dolly’s hand darts out and grips your arm as Sam approaches them and kisses their cheek and they’re both smiling but you can’t hear what they’re saying and you hate SUVs, are these things sound-proof, I’ll ask Nat...
As they climb into the car, you and Dolly are staring at Bridget, smiling. They just raise their eyebrows, grinning and say, “Hey, girls.”
“Well, hello.”
“Hi.”
You have to once again stop a laugh as Sam starts to drive, turning the music up, and you were all soon yelling along to the songs.
Now here you are, at a roof-top bar, being escorted to a table that had been reserved for you. Usually, you’d go to your favourite bar opposite work but Sam had gently insisted that you move it to another place he was more familiar with and where he could have better access to an exit and eyes on you. For a place simply titled The Venue, it’s very nice up here; it’s large, fire pits and heaters dotted around so you can’t feel the cold, a stunning view of the city, low, sultry tunes playing, a dance-floor in one corner, everything either purple, red, or gold. There’s even table service, and you recognise a few people dotted around.
“Is that—”
“Oh my God, yes...” Bridget whispers back to Dolly’s question as they stare at a table a little way away.
Your lips twitch as you each take a seat at a wooden table with a candle on it, the chairs red and plush. Your server informs you that a tab has already been set up for you, so you each grab a menu and debate for a good few minutes about what to get, the server standing patiently. Settling on cocktails, the server leaves with a beam, promising to be back in a few minutes.
“God, this place is fancy,” Bridget says, turning in their seat to get another look at everything. 
“And we actually have a table!” Dolly sighs delightedly.
“Perks of being Mrs America, huh?” Bridget turns back around to look at you, their eyebrows raising with a smirk.
You snort, your cheeks heating. “Not quite yet.”
Bridget opens their mouth but Dolly gets in first, gasping suddenly. “Did you see the news by the way?”
You pull a slight face. “No, I don’t tend to look at it anymore.”
She beams, her eyes sparkling. “Well, what happened at the dress shop, at the first place, everyone’s talking about it. People are so happy you said something and brought attention to it, there’s so many discussions being had about the wedding dress industry and the fashion industry in general when it comes to plus size clothing.”
The server returns before you can reply, and as she sets your drinks down you feel heat rise on your face again as you bite at your lower lip, pride spreading through you.
Well... Great power, great responsibility... I could get all kinds of stuff to be talked about... Note to self, change world tomorrow.
The three of you take long sips of your chosen drinks, humming in delight at the taste. As you lick your lips and set your glass down, Bridget places their arms on the table and leans forward.
“Now, come on, Y/N...”
Your eyebrows raise. “... What?”
Bridget tilts their head. “What’s he like in bed.”
You give your best scandalised gasp as Dolly laughs and Bridget smirks, continuing, “He’s kinky, isn’t he? It’s always the quiet ones...”
“Bridget Sanderson,” you gasp again, even as you grin, Dolly’s laugh infectious, “A lady never tells.”
“Well, you ain’t no lady so spill.”
You take a long sip of your drink to buy some time.
Could you? Should you?
Well, I’m in this far... And they won’t let it slide...
Licking your lips, you lean forward and lower your voice. “All the details?”
Dolly giggles and claps her hands together as Bridget grins. “All of them, you saucy bitch.”
Who knew you were so imaginative. Who knew you could remember every detail of every fantasy you have ever had about your best friend. Who knew you could think up such filthy, delightful things. Who knew you’d start comparing these imaginings with actual things you’ve done in your life, and that Dolly and Bridget have done with their sexual partners.
Who knew all three of you could drink so much.
Sorry to whoever’s paying the tab. The government? Shit, sorry, government, no wait, no I’m not, another round!
As the server, Melanie, you found out is her name while ordering the second drink, brings you your fourth drinks, you’re currently in the middle of laughing so hard it hurts at a story Dolly is telling of a sexual encounter, tears streaming from your eyes.
“... and then...” She dissolves into laughter herself, leaning over. “... and then her cat came in and it just, it just sat on the bedside table and made eye contact with me and...” God, you bloody love her laugh. “... she was doin’ such great things and sayin’ such good dirty talk but all I could do was stare at this cat and I just felt like apologising to it... and then it just started licking itself!”
Bridget is practically curled up in their chair as they laugh and you’re having to wipe at your cheeks, practically crying. Once you’ve all calmed down, you blow out a breath and massage your stomach.
“Oh my God, Doll’, I can’t believe you never told us that story...”
“I’m gonna wanna hear it again every day,” Bridget says, running a hand through their hair as they grin.
Dolly beams, sipping her drink. “I’d forgotten ‘bout it, think I repressed it.”
“So Steve’s into dirty talk, too, huh?” Bridget asks, sipping their own drink.
You nod several times, because part of you had always just thought, with him being such a great commander and leader, that he would be... and you’ve already told them that he is. “Mmhm, he’s made me come by jus’ his words alone.”
“No.”
“Get th’ fuck outta here.”
You nod smugly, your tongue catching your straw and you take a long sip. Not a total lie, you’ve imagined his voice in your ear several times... with a vibrator helping you along. And, hey, you won’t feel guilty about any of this ‘cause this is boosting his image... to your friends.
Dolly’s eye are wide and she and Bridget lean in, wanting more sordid details. You grin, happy to oblige and divulge more of your fantasies.
“So, it was when he was away one time ‘nd he called me ‘nd—”
“Excuse me?”
All three of you pause and turn to look at a woman, close to your age, smiling as she pushes her brown straight hair over her shoulder.
“Hi.”
“H’llo.”
“Hiya.”
“Hey,” she says, holding a phone in her hands as she looks at you. “I’m sorry to bother you, but can my friends and I get a photo with you?”
You blink, and look at her. Did... Yeah, you heard it right. Photo? With you?
You nod quickly, realising you’re just staring and silent. “Oh, yeah, sure, absolutely.”
What the fuck is happening. I hope I don’t sound as drunk as I feel. Or look it, oh my God, are my eyes open properly?
You push yourself up and, oh, fuck, yep, you’re drunk, and step around your chair as the woman beams and beckons her five friends over.
“Thank you so much!”
Bridget offers to take the photo, the woman very grateful, and she and her friends introduce themselves, a little tipsy and giddy with nerves and being with a celebrity, oh my God, I’m a celebrity, this is hilarious...
You stand in the middle, your arms around the girls either side of you, and you smile, making sure your eyes are open properly, as they pose. Bridget takes a few photos before smiling and handing the phone back to the first woman as they break away from you.
“Oh my God, thank you so much!”
“You’re so pretty!”
“We’re so jealous of you!”
You just smile and nod, trying to appear a little more sober.
“Thank you, have a nice night!” you call as they wander off, still giddy with excitement and all wanting to look at the photo.
Sitting back down, blinking, you look at Bridget and Dolly. They’re looking at you, blinking, too. It’s Bridget who finally speaks.
“... So, as you were sayin’ ‘bout gettin’ absolutely railed by America’s Finest?”
The three of you dissolve into giggles again, Dolly throwing her head back as Bridget leans over the table and your hands cover your mouth.
“Hey!”
Oh my God, I really am a celebrity.
Your wide smile lingering, you lower your hands and look up at the woman. You hear a chair scrape back on the stone floor somewhere as you pause. Hang on, you know this woman—
“You worthless bitch!”
Dolly screams as the woman throws some kind of small can at you and you’re suddenly drenched in a thick, liquid, your eyes closing just in time. Someone else screams as you hear Bridget shove their chair back and yell obscenities at the woman, lunging for her, but suddenly other voices are there, and they must be pulling the woman away because her own screams are coming from further and further away.
You’re frozen in your seat, hands half-raised. People are shouting around you but you barely listen. Dazed, your hands continue moving up, as they had been doing to protect yourself, and you wipe the liquid away from your eyes, and slowly open them.
You can feel the cold now, the heaters and fire-pits worthless, the liquid sticking to your skin and clothes. Or maybe you’re just shaking because you’re in shock.
You suddenly realise someone has been talking to you. Your head moving, you meet Sam’s gaze, suddenly feeling his hand on your back. His features are soft and his voice is gentle, but you can see the rage in his eyes.
“I got you, it’s all right. Can you get up? And we’ll get you out of here?”
You nod and lower your gaze, going to reach for your bag.
“It’s all right, I got it,” he says and your eyes move to his other hand, confirming that he does.
Getting to your feet, Sam’s arm goes around your shoulders and your feet are moving. People are still shouting, some trying to take photos, but there are people pushing them away, giving you and Sam space to head towards a door he’s leading you to.
It’s paint, you realise suddenly. Blue paint. You look back down at yourself again, watching it stain your skin and clothes.
“Where’s Bridge’ and Dolly?” you hear yourself ask.
“Another agent’s got ‘em, don’t worry, she’s gonna take ‘em home.”
Sam shoves the door open and you step into a stairwell, two men stood inside it. One of them moves to your left and you see an elevator, which the man opens by typing in a code on a keypad. Sam’s hand is still on your back, gently guiding you into it. The doors shut as the man types in another code, and Sam drops his hand from you and presses a button marked ‘B’. The elevator starts to descend and you stare at the doors.
“We’re gonna get you home, all right?” Sam says quietly, and you just nod, not caring to ask if he means home home, or the penthouse.
You hear him unzip his jacket. Yeah, it is hot in here. Your skin is warm all over and your throat feels tight, and you can’t quite take in a deep enough breath. Then you hear the sound of something ripping. Your gaze darting to Sam, he holds a section of his polo shirt in his hand and offers it to you. You stare at it, your brain putting the pieces together, and then you take it. You wipe at your eyes, mouth and face, and Sam zips his jacket back up and looks at you.
“You okay?” His voice is quiet again and you’re grateful for it because even the sound of his shirt tearing has made your heart beat faster.
“That was the woman from my work, who got in, wasn’t it?” you ask blankly, your volume matching his.
He shifts a little, scratching at his jaw as you hear him release a breath. “Yeah.”
You nod, swallowing hard and you wish the lump in your throat would go away. “Right.” He opens his mouth when you continue, finally meeting his gaze, “Why did you do that, Sam? You’ve blown your cover, surely, or they’ll know I’m being watched.”
He gives a light smile. “People will expect you to be watched, it would’ve been suspicious if no one stepped in.”
“Ah.” You start to wipe at your hands.
Sam tilts his head slightly, his smile softening. “And I wanted to get you out of there.”
You meet his gaze again, but you don’t have the energy to smile, despite the sentiment being touching, and just nod. His eyes linger on you as you look back down at your hands, concern swiftly replacing his smile. 
The elevator slows then comes to a halt, the doors sliding open a moment later, and the cold night air washes over you as you both step out into the underground parking garage, yet another one, Sam’s hand returning to your back. The place is silent, and you spot Sam’s SUV amongst a few other cars, both of you heading towards it. He gestures to someone in another car but you don’t care to look, assuming it’s another agent.
He moves a step ahead of you to open the passenger side door and you stop abruptly.
“What?” he says instantly, tensing.
“The paint. It’s gonna ruin the seat.”
He looks at you for a moment, his features relaxing into a smile. “Ah, that’s all right. That can be taken care of.”
You get in after he nods, and he places your bag on your lap. Closing the door, he jogs around to the driver’s side as you buckle your seatbelt then settle your hands over your bag, gripping it along with the piece of his shirt. Your eyes focus and stay on the dashboard as he secures his own seatbelt and puts the car into ‘drive’.
The barrier is more guarded than the other parking garages you’d been in this week but that hasn’t stopped paparazzi and occupants of the building from gathering, assuming that’s how you’d leave the area. You keep your eyes on the dashboard as lights flash and people shout.
Shouting, always shouting.
Sam doesn’t drive as fast as Nat, but he’s goes at some speed when you’re out on the main road. “Steve’s gonna meet us at the apartment,” he says after a couple of minutes, keeping his eyes on the road, “He was out with Barnes.”
“Okay.” Your voice sounds small to your own ears, distant.
Neither of you talk.
You look at your hands, the paint dry and barely having come off from when you’d rubbed at them in the elevator.
You start rubbing at them again, then use your nail, trying to scrape what you can off.
“Shit...” Sam murmurs suddenly.
Glancing up at him, you find him looking in the rear-view mirror every few moments.
“What is it?”
“Someone’s followin’ us.”
Your stomach drops, and exhaustion hits you like a fucking freight train. From his reaction, you guess it’s not a news van.
Sam presses a button on the steering wheel and the sound of dialling fills the interior.
Nat answers on the first ring.
"Where are you?”
“Nat, we’re bein’ followed.”
“Shit. All right, there’s a car on the way. Change your route.”
“Okay.” He takes the next left, and you know your heart should be pounding but you’re just so tired.
“How far away are you?”
“About fifteen minutes,” Sam replies, glancing up at the rear-view mirror. “We’re definitely bein’ followed, Nat.”
“The car will be there in three minutes. Keep taking turns, it’ll follow behind them.”
“Don’t worry, Y/N, nearly home,” Sam murmurs.
“Mhm.”
“Are you okay, Y/N?” Nat asks, her voice a little softer.
“Mhm.”
Sam glances at you as he pulls up at a red light, his lips pressing together. “Not long now.”
“Mhm—”
The sound twists into a gasp as you’re thrown forward slightly, the seatbelt catching you. Sucking in a breath through your teeth, you lift your head and look in the wing mirror as Sam spits out a curse.
A car, its bonnet dented, is reversing... then it speeds towards you again.
“Sam—”
“I see it.”
“Sam, what’s going on?” Nat demands to know as Sam pushes his foot down on the accelerator, the SUV lurching forward.
“We just got hit, they’re tryna ram us.”
“Are you both okay?”
Sam’s expertly weaving through the traffic, leaving horns blaring in your wake, but he just keeps going.
“Y/N, you okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, yeah, fine.” It’s an automatic response, but you think you are. Physically, at least. Whiplash will properly rear its head soon, though.
A faint memory comes to you, however, of Sam telling you all the SHIELD cars have been built to absorb the impact of things like this, it having happened a fair few times, leaving the occupants with minimal damage, if none, so maybe not.
“Are they still following?”
“Nah, I don’t think so. Think we lost ‘em.” He only slows his speed a little, though.
“You’re right, the agents are following them now, just get back here as quick as you can.”
“All right.”
The call ends and Sam glances at you.
“Y/N, you gotta tell me if you’re not okay, are you hu—”
“I’m fine, Sam, thank you.” You swallow hard, the lump still in your throat.
He falls silent, leaving you be, and you’re grateful for it because you’re so fucking tired.
Several minutes later, he pulls up at the penthouse building and he makes you wait, sliding out of his seat and jogging round to open your door. People stare as he ushers you across the main foyer to the elevator that’ll take you up to your floor but you just look ahead. Thankfully, Sam doesn’t say a word as the elevator ascends and you just look at the doors. When they slide open at the penthouse floor and you step out into the tiny circular foyer, you let Sam get his keycard out, opening the door.
And then the noise washes over you.
People talking, to each other, over each other, on phones, demanding, ordering, snapping. You hear the door close and feel Sam behind you as you slowly walk down the short hallway, then into the living room area.
There are agents everywhere, maybe about twenty, all stood around, talking. Loudly.
They don’t look up at you as they continue on with whatever they’re doing, typing on tablets, staring at tablets, standing over a hologram of what you realise is the floor-plan of the penthouse.
“Y/N.” Your eyes dart up to Nat as she approaches, striding across the carpet. “Are you okay? How are you feeling?”
“Fine. Tired.”
“Okay.” Her gaze scans you, assessing, and you’re too drained to care that she knows you’re lying. Her hand settles on your arm gently and she holds your gaze, her voice lowering. “We analysed what this is, okay, we got the can of it from the woman, and it’s just paint—”
“Who is she?”
Nat pauses at your abrupt question, and you know she’s weighing up what to tell you. Her hand doesn’t move from your arm as she speaks, “Her name’s Marise Daniels. She’s one of Steve’s stalkers, we’ve been aware of her for a while.”
Stalkers. One of.
“Oh.”
“She...” Sam starts to say, choosing his own words carefully. “... She isn’t meant to be out, especially after what happened at your work.”
“Apparently there was a system error. Someone’s seriously fucked up,” Nat continues, the information new to you both considering Sam’s hissed release of a breath.
“Is that why these people are all here.” You don’t think you’ve ever heard your own voice sound so lifeless.
Nat pauses again, weighing her words again and, God, just tell me. “Someone tried to break in. They got into the elevator and overrode it, got up here but they couldn’t get in. The tampering alerted our systems but by the time we got here they’d gone. We’re checking CCTV footage now and asking people if they saw anything.”
You look at her, her words barely feeling like they reach you. “So why are all these people in here.”
Her hand is gently rubbing your arm now, and it’s faintly starting to ground you. “They’re checking the security systems in place here, making sure they’re secure or reinforced.”
“Okay.”
“They’ll be gone in thirty minutes, I promise.”
“Okay.”
She takes in a breath and smiles lightly. “How about we—”
“Agent Romanoff?”
A muscle in her jaw ticks slightly but she turns to the agent, her eyebrows raising. “Yeah?”
The agent lowers her phone from her ear. “Captain Rogers has helped to apprehend the suspect. He’s on his way over. Agents Moore and Lane are taking the suspect back to HQ.”
“All right, tell them to...”
Nat’s voice drops out of your hearing, and your gaze drifts to the stairs. Sam’s hand settles on your back, rubbing gently, and you remember that he’s there.
“I’m gonna... gonna go upstairs and wash this off,” you mumble to him, and you don’t hear if he replies as you move forward.
People don’t look at you, continuing with their business, talking, talking, talking. You reach the top of the stairs before you know it, opening your bedroom door. You close it behind you, muffling the sounds of the people downstairs.
Removing your shoes, you drop your bag to join them on the floor as you head to the bathroom. You pull your outfit off, letting it drop to the floor, too, you can deal with it later, hopefully the washing machine will get it out.
You turn the shower on and step under the water. Head down, you watch some of the blue paint start to wash off, swirling and whirling in the water and disappearing down the drain. Only a little, though.
You have to use your hands and the body-wash to get it off. Scrubbing at your skin. Scraping at it.
You’re in there for twenty minutes. Scrubbing. Scraping.
When you finally make yourself get out your skin feels raw. There’s still a faint stain in some parts, though. You grab a towel and use it to continue rubbing at your skin, blue now staining the cream softness of it. The rest of your skin is dry by the time you make yourself stop and you pull the robe on.
Then you look at yourself in the mirror.
The lump returns to your throat and tears fill your eyes. You look... drained. And you fucking feel it. You’re exhausted. So exhausted, in every single way. You’ve spent all week fighting so hard to stay up-beat, to stay positive, to make this work, to see the good sides, but the world isn’t allowing that. You’d just wanted to yell at the woman, Marise, that you are doing this to keep him safe, that he is in danger, and you are just doing this to keep your fucking best friend safe.
The fact there’s still some blue paint staining your cheeks and neck is what makes the tears finally spill down your face. Sniffing, you swallow hard and grab a hand towel, wetting it and scrubbing at your skin once more.
It’s not moving.
You inhale a quiet, shuddering breath, almost a sob, as you stare at your reflection, scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing.
Three gentle knocks sound on your bedroom door.
“Come in,” you say automatically, your voice cracking, and you wipe at your eyes.
You look up as the door opens and see in the reflection... Steve.
He pauses, the door nearly closed behind him. You sniff again as you look at him, his eyes assessing you.
“Hey,” he says softly.
“Hey,” you answer. You shrug then, your features crumbling. “... It’s not coming off.”
The door closes and he’s moving towards you.
“Come here, it’s okay...”
As you turn from the mirror, you’re then enveloped in his embrace, your cheek pressed against his chest as he holds you. A jagged sob escapes you as your arms go around him, holding onto his shirt, gripping it.
“It’s okay...” he murmurs again, and you feel his voice rumbling in his chest, his chin resting on your head.
You’ve tried so hard to stave off tears all week that now that you can, now you don’t care anymore, now that you’re so tired, they’re not stopping. The front of his grey shirt must be damp, now, and your throat hurts and your chest is heaving but you just let the tears come and come, and he doesn’t stop you, doesn’t say anything, just holds you, his hands occasionally stroking your back and arms gently.
It’s not until you start to draw back that he does, guiding you to the sit on the rim of the bath.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble, wiping at your cheeks with one hand. “Still a bit drunk, I think.”
A corner of his mouth lifts a little as he crouches down before you and takes the hand towel. “You don’t need to apologise. You can cry as much as you like.”
Your own lips lift for a moment as you sniff, and then you want to cry all over again as he starts to gently dab at the stains on your face and neck. You watch him, your eyes tracing his nose and mouth, the small, concerned lines on his forehead. If he got into a fight with the suspect earlier, there’s no sign of it. His hair doesn’t even look tussled.
Your eyes continue moving and meet his. He lowers his hand and inhales a quiet breath.
“I’m sorry, about all of this, Y/N.”
You’re shaking your head before he’s even finished his sentence. “Steve, it’s not your fault.”
He looks almost pained at that, shaking his own head. “I could’ve prevented you being in this situation, though, I knew the risks of—”
“Don’t,” you interrupt sharply, surprising you both, but you continue on, “I already know what you’re going to say, and I will take it all, all of this, if it means I get to be your friend. Like we’ve said, we’re a team in this. I really wouldn’t want anyone else as my fake fiancé or as my friend.”
A smile pulls at his lips, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You shouldn’t have to take all this, though, you shouldn’t—”
“No, I shouldn’t. But I will.” Your hand has found his free one, and grips it gently.
He turns his hand over instantly, curling his fingers around your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. His smile softens.
“I think the world’s finally gonna see the stubborn pain in the ass I have to deal with.”
You exhale a laugh, and his smile widens at seeing yours.
“Well, it’s only fair others should have to suffer,” you say, shrugging a shoulder.
“You’re right there.” He resumes dabbing at your skin as you look at him.
“How was your day?” you ask quietly after a few silent moments, knowing he’ll just ask how you are if it stretches any longer.
“It was okay.” He’s dabbing at your chin now. “Peg says hi, and that she understands what you’re going through.”
God, you just want to cry all over again.
Your chest warms as you smile. “Really? Maybe I should go on your next visit.”
“I think she’d really like that.” His thumb is still brushing over your knuckles, and you wonder if he realises he’s still doing it. “She knows this isn’t real, though, think she figured it out.”
“Well, I wouldn’t expect anything less. How was Bucky?”
“Fine. He says hello, too.”
“Wow, everyone’s being so kind to me today.”
He arches an eyebrow at you as you laugh, trying to stop himself from doing the same. “I don’t know whether it’s a good sign or not that you’re already joking about this.”
“Humour’s a great coping mechanism, you know that.”
He’s still smiling, but you can see the concern returning, so you quickly continue, taking your hand from his so you can raise a finger, raising your eyebrows, “Well, Doll’ and Bridge’ told me to tell you, by the way, well done, on having me as a fiancée.”
The corners of his mouth lift higher, now reaching his eyes. "Yeah, I know how lucky I am.”
“Oh, and, you proposed to me in our park, by the way.”
He tilts his head as you smile somewhat smugly. “Did I, now?”
“Yeah, under the stars.”
His eyebrows raise as he smiles widely. “Wow, you’re also very lucky, then.”
You wave your hand slightly. “I said a lot of stuff today, I’ll have to fill you in. I made notes.”
He chuckles as he lowers the towel from your face and rises to his feet. “You can show me my homework tomorrow.”
You watch him as he moves to the sink, dropping the towel into it, then raise your hand suddenly. “Oh, there was a dress I actually really liked there, too.”
 “The one you sent me a picture of?”
You freeze, staring at him as he turns to you.
“... What?”
Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he moves back towards you, unlocking it, then taps on a couple of things before turning it towards you.
Ohp.
And there you are.
In the vintage style dress, cascading flutter sleeves stopping just below your elbows, tight on your breasts and with a v-neckline, satin gold, your hand on your waist, beaming at your reflection in the gold mirror at The Pearl. 
Ah, now you remember sending it...
“... Yeah, that’s the one.”
“It’s really nice,” he says, sliding his phone back into his pocket as he offers you a hand to get to your feet. “You look great in it.”
Your face heats as you take his hand and get up, shrugging a shoulder and smiling. “Oh, well, thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
Your hands drop, yours going to your side, his going into the pocket of his jeans. Looking up at him, you give a light smile, which he returns.
“You okay?” he asks softly, and you nod after a moment.
“Yeah. Just so fucking tired,” you say with a slight laugh. “Think I’m just gonna sleep now.”
He nods, his teeth grazing over his lower lip. “That sounds like a good idea. What a fuckin’ day, huh?”
You snort, your eyebrows raising. “Yeah, for both of us.”
He sighs, as if remembering that, oh, yeah, someone had tried to break in, too. “The agents have all gone, now. The place is even more secure, it’s like a fortress.”
“Well, that’s good.”
You head into the bedroom, and he follows you out, moving to the door. He opens it, turning to you, and you share another smile.
“Sure you’re okay?” he asks again, and you bite at your lower lip.
Stay.
You widen your smile. “Yeah. Just very ready for sleep.”
He nods, taps his fingers against the door and smiles. “All right. Goodnight. I’m just down the hall if you need me.”
“Yeah. Goodnight.”
Your smile lingers for a moment as the door closes, then fades as you hear him walk away.
Halfway down the stairs, Steve pauses, his hand on the railing.
He considers turning around.
Going back up the stairs.
Opening your door.
Taking you in his arms again.
After a minute, he carries on down.
In your pyjamas, phone in your hand, you climb into bed, sinking into the soft safeness of it.
You unlock it, finding several messages in the group chat from Dolly and Bridget, asking how you are, saying they’re home safe, that Sam had filled Bridget in and they’d filled Dolly in, that they both hope you’re okay.
You send a message back saying that you are okay, you’re tired, and that you’ll speak to them tomorrow, and you hope they’re okay.
There’s a message from someone else, too.
I’ve just seen what happened on the news, I really hope you’re okay x
I’d have a normal life with Aaron.
Where the fuck did that come from?
But you can’t help thinking it.
He’d slipped into your mind when you’d masturbated that morning. You hadn’t wanted to think about it. You’d just imagined him, out of curiosity at first, as he’d posted a photo on Instagram of him at the gym again, just to imagine what he’d be like, you do it with most people to pass the time... and then he’d stayed in your mind.
It had seemed... more real than when you’d imagine Steve. Probably because Steve is your best friend and you shouldn’t be thinking of him that way and you don’t want to ruin what you have, you really don’t, and Aaron... Aaron is the kind of person you could take a chance on.
You feel tears start to prick at your eyes because this is fucked, this is all so fucked, and you love your best friend and you can only think that in it’s entirety without your brain shutting down when you’re drunk or tipsy because it’s the only time your mind is free and you love him, you love him, you love him, you love him...
But there is no fucking way you will ever risk losing him as a friend.
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bashful-otaku · 4 years ago
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On Fire - Jasper Hale x OC FanFiction (No smut, but NSFW thoughts)
(Author’s Note: I don’t know what this is gonna be, but it wouldn’t leave me brain. So I thought what the heck and decided to post it. I hope you like it, I haven’t posted my fanfictions online for a while, so I’m a bit nervous. Posting on tumblr is defs a first, if something is broken with the submission let me know.)
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I let my eyes wander over to Jasper Hale, every time I see him I feel like I can’t breath. He has his back facing me and I admire the curves in his back and the way the tight shirt fits him, he stretches up and my feverish thoughts rush through me when I see his strong muscles in his arms stretch.
I can imagine them holding me down, as he has his way with me and making me feel all kinds of sinful goodness, I would be complete putty in his hands. He could choke me, even kill me in that hold and fuck I’d be such a dripping mess the whole time. I want me to be under him, I want him to claim me.
He starts turning around, and I almost keep staring but stop the irrationality and refocus on the conversation I’m having with Bella. Edward looks over at us like he usually does when Bella is away from his side, but instead of looking at her he is looking at me with constipated looking expression.
I hope he is ok. Did he eat something bad?
He turns swiftly away, and I glance back over to my side expecting to see Jasper sprawled out in another earth shattering position but instead he is looking at me with a curious brow, I give him a shy wave feeling immensely embarrassed and he smirks in response, then goes back to stretching. I try not to think about it too much because I should be listening to Bella. But when I see him grip the baseball bat in front of him, with both of his hands, my attention goes back to my thoughts.
Fuck can he hold me like that? Hold me down, grab my neck and force me into submission. His pale fingers leaving purple bruises all over my body as he pounds into me alternating between a pulverising to delicate thrust.
A ball is thrown over here snapping me out of my lustful thoughts and I look down at the ball and then the direction it came from, Edward. It’s Edward again, I sigh and look at one of my friends. Even when I don’t talk out of everyone it seems like he understands me the most, I’m a person who finds myself too anxious ridden to talk but he always seems to understand me. He looks at me with disapproval and I almost say sorry but don’t.
Why should I apologise, it’s not like he can hear my thoughts. It’s not like he knows this about me. My crush on Jasper Hale is air tight and even if they did know I’m not the only one, hell all of the students have a crush on the Cullens I just happen not to vocalise them. People even have a crush on Bella, especially now that she has a boyfriend, the forbidden fruit.
Edward looks over with a startle and scans over at Bella.
But truly I’d fuckin vocalise anything for Jasper, especially my moans, he could totally fuck me into talking, it wouldn’t even take much. Just one command from his husky Texan accent and I’d be complete putty.
Edward again shoots me a disappointed look.
What Edward? What are you gonna do? Least I don’t think of Bella like that.
He looks ready to snarl at me and glares.
Wait can he hear my thoughts? Is that why he looks like he wants to murder me? No that can’t be. Fuck.
He’s expression is one filled with anger, shock and horror, and I feel my face heat up.
Shit I knew something was up with him but not this, if he can ready mind then he knows about Jasper, he has heard everything. No no, that’s why Jasper smirked at me. He told him. Fuck I need to get out of here, I want to curl up into my blanket and never leave.
“I have to go Bella” she goes to say something, but I just ignore her and run to the gym lockers not looking back behind me.
I rush into the room and feel the waves of embarrassment rush over me. Why he can hear my thoughts should be what worries me, but all I can think of is the amount of things he has heard and who he has told.
I think of him like a close friend, but maybe to him I am just something to mock.
I rush out of the room, not caring that we are in the middle of class, that its the middle of the day and run into the hallway. I see Alice in the hallway, I glare at her and her grin.
She knows, of course she does. Edward told her too.
“Hey Rin, wait up. I can explain” I don’t let her to, I just run past her and into the car park. I throw open my door and hurry home.
Can someone end me, my life is over.
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adapted-batteries · 4 years ago
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Making Art
Fandom: The Librarians
Rating: General/sfw
Relationship: Flynnstone
Word count: 7274
Summary: Instead of never leaving his hometown, Jacob goes off to college under the guise of getting the only degree his dad values, petroleum engineering, but of course also majoring in art history. In “Survey of Native American Art,” he meets someone who he only knew before as “guy who basically lives in the library stacks.” Of course, Fate decides he needs to suffer through a group project with him.
Alternative summary: What would happen if Jacob Stone went to my alma mater and met Flynn there?
Also posted on my Ao3.
-----
Jacob thought well and hard about how he was going to convince Issac to let him go to the University of Tulsa. There were several hurdles he had to overcome: Pa was a University of Oklahoma man, and here he was wanting to go to the nerdiest school in the state; he already knew more than enough to run the oil business, why would he need to waste his father’s money on a useless degree; if Jacob went to Tulsa for four years, he couldn’t keep cleaning up his father’s messes, and there was a real risk of Isaac running the company into the very ground it drilled. 
He had solutions to all of these things. The University of Tulsa had the best petroleum engineering degree in the Plains, and he’d always be a boomer sooner fan. And, while his high school grades weren’t too spectacular, his test scores and essay application for the Presidential Scholar program at TU got him a full ride. All he needed was Isaac to let him go and then not kill his company, and he’d be set.
Isaac didn’t need to know about Jacob’s ulterior motives. Tulsa was over 100 miles further from home than Norman was, for one, and Tulsa had a budding humanities program that Jacob really wanted to get invested in. He’d suffer through the engineering degree, but what was going to get him through it were the other courses he had in mind to take out of the humanities, languages, and arts departments. If he was lucky, he’d weasel himself a position of some sort at Gilcrease Museum just so he could learn even more from their displays and get into their archives.
When his acceptance letter came in the mail, Isaac read it with disdain. “When’d ya apply to that place? OU not good enough for you hm?” 
Jacob kept the kitchen counter between himself and his father. “No I, well, I wanna do good for the business, and TU’s got the best oil program in the state, you know.” 
“I didn’t need no fancy engineerin’ degree to make money,” Isaac countered, eyeing Jacob.
He kept himself from flinching from his father’s glare. “No, but now days you gotta have one to get started. Besides, couldn’t hurt to have one to spread our reach.”
Isaac tossed the nice letterhead on the counter. “Hmph. Well, how’re you gonna pay for that? I can’t just shill out that money.”
“I’ll, I’ll figure it out,” Jacob supplied. He’d already sent off his extra application for a full ride scholarship, which he hoped his more than qualifying exam scores and a 15 page, single-spaced analysis on Choctaw artwork and mythology would be convincing enough to award him.
“Fine, but I’m not co-signin’ any loans.” Isaac fished around in their refrigerator for a beer. “John’s off takin’ care of Sylvia, I need you on the rig Saturday.”
“Alright,” Jacob said. He had planned to spend the evening reading some books he had picked up from the town library, but that’d have to wait. After his dad wandered over to his worn recliner and he heard the click and buzz of the TV, Jacob sighed and set about making them dinner.
---
That August couldn’t get there quick enough. There were many, many times he thought about not going. He’d miss all his friends, his home town, and his pa. But, by the time he loaded up his truck and drove two hours northeast, there wasn’t any backing out now. 
When he arrived on campus, he felt very out of place, but that feeling quickly faded once orientation week started. By the time classes started, he didn’t ever want to leave. His experience from oil rigging he already had carried him through his engineering classes, so he could devote himself to his other pursuits. Language courses, literature, history, art, those were the subjects he spent near all his time on. This also meant he spent a fair time in the library.
During his second year, a new student seemed to be competing with how many hours they could clock in the library. He was a nerdy sort, Jacob thought, which meant he was going above and beyond the above-average level of studiousness the student body already had. They quickly established a routine around each other. Jacob would go to his study carol he’d staked the previous year, the leftmost one in a set of three in a forgotten corner of the stacks no one except this new person seemed to want to go to. The newcomer took the study carol two down from him, rarely acknowledging Jacob’s presence.
Their schedule he figured out within the first two weeks of class. Mondays and Wednesdays Jacob would get there first, the new guy coming about an hour later and staying while Jacob left for class. Tuesdays and Thursdays the newcomer was there before him, and would leave around two hours into Jacob’s studying. Fridays the guy wasn’t there at all, at least not when Jacob was, but he practically lived there Saturday, no doubt not going to the football home games. 
The beauty of studying in the stacks was that no one talked like they did in the study areas. The hum of the air vents, the scratch of his and the other guy’s pencils, the flip of books, and occasional footsteps of a seeker of knowledge comprised his sound track. He and the guy even alternated who stood and waved their arm to reactivate the lights when they timed out.
Without realizing, he had learned a fair amount about the guy from just studying near him. He was either dressed like a stereotypical professor, or a bedraggled grad student, which predicted how late he had stayed up the night before (confirmed by how prominent the circles under his eyes were). He had notebooks for every subject, and he studied near every subject, though a good amount of the books he hoarded were Native American ones. When he was frustrated, he might mumble under his breath, but most certainly made his hair even more wild by running his fingers through it. When he was hyperfocused, he'd sit on one foot, scratching furiously in a notebook. 
Jacob never learned the guy’s name until the next semester when he had a class with him. Jacob had gotten himself into an upper-level Native American history course, filled mostly with history majors finishing their degrees and grad students. Not wanting to seem too eager, he chose a desk one row back from the front row. People he knew from previous history courses meandered in as it neared time to start the class, and some he chatted with, asking how their breaks were and such. The professor walked in right on time, a stack of syllabi on top of a binder in one arm, an insulated travel mug in her other hand. 
Dr. Mashunkashey had begun going over the syllabus when the door to the classroom opened, revealing the guy from the stacks. He looked a bit disheveled, running late from somewhere it seemed. “That’s a two for two for not showing up on time to the first day of my class, Flynn,” the professor said, but she didn’t seem that annoyed by it. 
“Sorry, I stayed up too late reading,” Flynn replied. “I got a bit carried away following sources referenced in Reclaiming Diné History.”
“Of course you did,” Dr. Mashunkashey said with a laugh, handing him the last syllabus. “Go on and have a seat.”
It turned out the easiest seat for him to take was the one right in front of Jacob. Jacob gave him a nod, which Flynn returned quickly, and then sat down. Jacob focused himself back on the syllabus on his desk, but his mind kept drifting to the man in front of him. He’d caught glimpses of the books Flynn read in the study carrel, and they were quite all over the place in subject matter; any given day he might have had a botany book, or a German biography, or something on Egypt. And now here he was, sitting right in front of him, apparently having spent the previous night doing the same thing Jacob did, though at least Jacob’s morning gym sessions meant he was never late to class like Flynn was.
The sound of a bunch of pages flipping snapped Jacob back into reality. The professor was explaining the main project of the class. “You’ll each focus on a particular tribe’s art, and an era within that. The paper requirements are in the syllabus, standard format. Images are welcome, but don’t shirk on your words because of them. Then, for the second part of this grade, you’ll work with a partner to make some form of art, combining the styles of both of your papers.”
Flynn raised his hand, but Dr. Mashunkashey shook her head. “Yes, Flynn, you’ll have to work with a partner.” Jacob stifled a laugh when Flynn’s shoulders slumped, but apparently not enough as she glanced at him before looking back at the syllabus. “The art component can be anything. Music, painting, writing, whatever, so long as you both incorporate themes from what you highlight in your paper. Since art can take time, and you might want to coordinate what art styles you’ll be using, go ahead and pick your partner.”
Jacob started thinking through the people he already knew in the class, but Flynn startled him out of his thoughts by turning around. “Do you want to be partners?”
“I, uh, sure,” Jacob stuttered. The professor had apparently been watching Flynn to see who he’d pick, and Jacob saying yes surprised her, based on her raised eyebrows. "Do you know what you're gonna do your paper on?"
Flynn didn't hesitate to respond. "Hohokam culture."
"I'd been thinking of doing Pueblo myself, so that should work well," Jacob said.
Dr. Mashunkashey cleared her throat, getting the class to quiet down. “Okay, now that you all have partners picked, we’re gonna get started.” She moved behind the computer and proceeded to give her introductory lecture on Native American art.
---
When the class came to an end, Jacob packed up his notebook and walked around the side of Flynn’s desk. “Hey, since we’re doing a project, we should exchange numbers.”
Flynn had been still scribbling something down, so it took a beat before he looked up at Jacob. “Phone number, yes, that’s a good idea.” He fished out his phone from a worn messenger bag stuffed with books and notebooks, handed it to Jacob, and then went back to writing.
Jacob waited for him to say more, but he didn’t speak, so he opened the phone and texted this is flynn’s number from Flynn’s phone to himself. Flynn was still writing, so he cleared his throat to get his attention. “Uh, here’s your phone.”
Flynn looked up a bit faster this time and took the phone. “Great.” He looked as if whatever was in the notebook was reaching out and trying to drag his head back to it, but he was now trying to fight it, looking at Jacob like he was trying to memorize Jacob. “Um, I’ll...see you around, in the stacks.”
He hadn’t imagined Flynn would be so awkward. “Sure, probably will.” Taking it as a cue, Flynn gave in to the pull of his notebook. Jacob wandered up to the professor; he had a habit of chatting up his professors after the first class, and today was no exception. Dr. Mashunkashey had just finished talking to another student when he walked up. 
“I’ve heard good things about you, Mr. Stone.”
“And I’ve heard good things about you, too,” Jacob replied. “I wanted to take your class on Osage history last semester, but it conflicted with a class I needed to take.”
“I’ll be teaching it again in two years, so you’ve got some time,” she replied. Mumbling came from where Flynn was, making them both glance at him. “So you’ve got Flynn as your partner...that should be interesting. Do you know him from somewhere?”
“Yeah, I met ‘em in the library,” Jacob replied.
Dr. Mashunkashey laughed a little. “That sounds like the place to find him. Well, I look forward to your paper. Daniel, Dr. Griffith, liked your final paper so much he couldn’t quit talking about it.”
Jacob’s ears reddened a little. “Oh, well, I’m glad he enjoyed it.”
“Are you considering grad school?”
“Well, I’d uh, been thinkin’ about it, yeah.” He wasn’t about to tell her that he was also doing an engineering degree to take back home.
“If you want to talk about it, stop by my office anytime. There’s definitely fellowships out there for students like you, if finances are a concern.”
Jacob couldn’t help but perk up at that. “I’ll take you up on that. See you during office hours.”
---
Flynn, it turned out, was kind of the worst. Jacob wasn’t in a rush to get the project going, considering it wasn’t due until April anyway, but Flynn wanted to get started right away...at 3am apparently. Jacob hadn’t seen the string of texts until the next morning.
    Flynn 3:04 AM: Can you do pottery? There’s a ceramics studio in Phillips Hall, I think I can get access to it.
    Flynn 3:05 AM: There’s a few designs that would work for my time, depending on what works with your era.
    Flynn 3:07 AM: You could decorate half and I’ll do the other.
    Flynn 3:15 AM: Are there specific techniques your people used in their pottery making? We should use a traditional method.
    Jacob didn’t reply right away. He went about his morning routine, and was on his way to the gym when his phone buzzed again.
    Flynn 8:07 AM: What do you think about woodworking for our project?
Jacob groaned out loud, no one close enough to hear him. No wonder the professor was shocked he said yes to Flynn. 
    Jacob 8:08 AM: We have months to do this project. There’s no need to start so early.
Jacob shoved his phone in his pocket on do-not-disturb, intending to ignore any messages for the duration of his workout, but now that Flynn got him thinking about it, he sent off one more text.
    Jacob 8:09 AM: I think pottery would probably work best. I’m sure we can manage it between the two of us.
Flynn responded almost instantaneously.
    Flynn 8:10 AM: That’s what I was thinking. Though if we really wanted to incorporate both, we could also include the woodworking.
“Lord,” Jacob hissed, earning a confused look from the bleary-eyed student working the desk at the gym. He took his student ID and apologized. “Sorry, thanks.” It wouldn’t be that bad, so long as he didn’t let Flynn get under his skin.
Despite his efforts, Jacob’s workout was overshadowed by his loud thoughts. It wasn’t that he hoped Flynn would be cool, but, well, from months studying silently next to each other, Jacob had wondered what he would be like as a friend. He wanted to know what went on in Flynn's brain, what made him tick, what he did outside of class and studying. But now, he realized, Flynn was a brilliant mess of an academic who breathed school 24/7. 
---
 Flynn hadn’t been in the library Monday afternoon, and Jacob hadn’t gone to the library Tuesday. He hadn’t gotten any texts from him either, so by their second class on Wednesday, Jacob was curious what Flynn had been up to. That curiosity grew when Flynn showed up with a new notebook he hadn't had on Monday, already a quarter of the way filled with notes. "Jacob! So I talked to Kelly, er, Dr. Mashunkashey, and she talked to the art department, who then talked to the main ceramics professor, and he emailed me back saying we could do our project in his studio."
Jacob was kind of shocked at how fast he’d contacted people. “Well, that’s good.”
“I think we could start working on it, hm, next week?” Flynn looked down at Jacob expectantly, as he’d yet to take his seat. 
For whatever reason, Jacob got an odd feeling in his stomach, but he ignored it. “I wasn’t plannin’ on gettin’ goin’ so soon, but I guess it wouldn’t hurt. I’ve only read about their pottery techniques, not done them, so extra time might be a good idea.” Flynn was practically vibrating with excitement at his response, which made Jacob laugh before he could stop himself. 
Flynn thankfully didn’t think he was mocking him. “Great! The studio is open for us Friday afternoons.”
“I can do that,” Jacob replied. Flynn somehow smiled at him even more than he was, and well, Jacob couldn’t deny it felt nice to have that joy aimed at him. It didn’t last long though, as Flynn sat down when Dr. Mashunkashey walked into class. Flynn turned around in his seat and started going through his notes on the techniques he wanted to try until the professor had her powerpoint up and running.
Flynn wasn’t as insufferable as he thought, his excitement contagious, but Jacob realized this project was gonna be tough for another reason: he was falling for Flynn.
---
Jacob hadn't done any ceramics since art in high school. Flynn said he could, as apparently he minored in art to add to his many degrees, Jacob found out. It unnerved him a bit, to know that Flynn already had 2 Ph.D.'s and 3 masters in Egyptology, two ancient languages, Chinese history and physics, and that Flynn had no plans on stopping from acquiring more. All Jacob had was a high school diploma, though he had a lot in his head from the books he devoured and the time he spent out on the oil rigs. 
The ceramics studio was thankfully empty when they arrived. The room was open, old windows hinting at a time when the space used to be an engineering workshop when the art building used to be the engineering building, which the engraved stone above one entrance still said. Shelving with a variety of in-progress and complete works lined most of the walls, with tables in the center of one half of the room, and space for throwing wheels in the other. It smelled like wet earth, and for a moment, Jacob imagined he was out on a new rig after a rain. 
The professor who taught ceramics classes gave a basic rundown of the room, clearly with the dual purpose of informing them of where things were and sussing out just how skilled they were. Flynn's rambling at various points about technique and clay types seemed to satisfy the professor, who left them to their devices. 
Flynn took a hunk of clay out of the plastic bag and started rolling out coils on top of a drywall square. "Okay, were there specific techniques you need to incorporate from your time period?" 
"Well, it was coil-based, like yours, though the clay they used had a different composition ‘cause of where they sourced it," Jacob replied. Flynn had set him on making the base, so he was rolling out a slab to index finger thickness with a rolling pin. 
It was clear Flynn had worked with clay before. He already had several coils made and covered to prevent drying out while Jacob hadn't even gotten to the right thickness yet. "Dr. Kanhg couldn't get clay with the mineral composition we needed, but he does have matte glazes we can use to make the clay look the right color, give it the more reddish hue," Flynn said. His eyes then flicked to Jacob's work, brow furrowing. "You're rolling it too thin."
Jacob had been paying attention to his clay, but then he had gotten distracted by Flynn working, how delicate yet firm he rolled out the coils under his palms, the way his hair flopped a bit with his head bent down. Jacob had rolled his clay out all right, to about an ⅛ inch thick divot in the middle with over an inch thick edges from not flipping his slab. If he was making a mini half-pipe, he would've done a fine job. "Uh, sorry, I'll start over." He went to smush it together when Flynn yanked the clay out from under his hands.
"If you do that you'll dry it out with the oil from your hands," Flynn snapped like Jacob was supposed to know that. Flynn folded it twice and then started slamming it on the drywall slab to combine it. 
"I've only done ceramics once in high school, man," Jacob retorted, puffing himself up a bit on the stool he was sitting on. 
"Clearly it shows," Flynn replied, salt in Jacob's wounded ego. Flynn, not very gently, shoved the drywall square with the now condensed clay over to Jacob. "Pay attention this time."
Jacob grunted at him, not trusting himself to say anything good, and rolled out his slab again. This time he kept his eyes glued to his work, ignoring the pinprick sensation of Flynn's judgemental gaze on him. He rolled it out well enough, and used a large yogurt container to trace out a circle and cut it out. 
No sooner than he finished sliding the knife around the trace he made and started to pull the excess clay away, Flynn snatched the circle and started working it to attach the coils. "I was gonna do that," Jacob growled, watching Flynn flip the edges up with more speed and evenness than Jacob would have.
Flynn didn't look up at him. "And I'm sure you'd have to do it twice too."
"You don't know that," Jacob muttered, watching Flynn. He looked around the studio, feeling useless, so he said, "Is there something I can do? It's half my project too."
Flynn stopped working, glaring at him for a moment before softening his expression. "Have you made a coil pot before?"
"No...but I think I can do it from watching you," Jacob said.
Flynn narrowed his eyes a bit, but gently slid the partially done pot across the table to him. "Pinch and smooth down on the inside to connect the clay, but don't push too hard or you'll warp the coil below."
Jacob got halfway done with the coil before he punched through accidentally with his finger, making a hole. "Well fuck," he said as Flynn let out a frustrated sigh. It was going to take forever if he kept working, so he passed it back to Flynn. "Sorry."
"Since you're just going to mess it up, let me make it," Flynn said with exasperation. "You can decorate, if you won't mess that up too."
"Just ‘cause I'm not some genius like you and I mess up sometimes doesn't mean I can't do it," Jacob barked. For an instant he reminded himself of his father, and he cringed a little. He’d startled Flynn too; where Flynn had been repairing the hole Jacob made, there was now a rip again. “Sorry, I, uh, look. It took a lot for me to get here, and I wanna learn just as much as you do, but if you’re gonna treat me like I’m an idiot, I’m just gonna leave.”
Flynn didn’t respond at first, so Jacob started packing up his things and leaving. “No, wait!” Flynn grabbed his forearm; thankfully Jacob hadn’t rolled down his shirt sleeve yet. “I’m not good with people.”
Jacob huffed. “You don’t say.” He glanced at Flynn’s clay-dusted hand, still holding him, which made Flynn release him.
“I mean, school, learning, it’s everything to me. I don’t want to mess this project up. It has to be perfect, everything does, because that means I understand it.” Flynn went to rake a hand through his hair, but at the last second realized his hands were not clean, and stopped himself. “I just want one group project to go right. I hate group projects, but I need you to prove to Dr. Mashunkashey that I can work with people. She says I need to be able to do that if I want to be a professor.”
Jacob was not expecting Flynn to open up to him like that. Nor was he expecting the warmth in his chest when Flynn said he needed him, but he pushed that aside before he did anything reckless. “I’m willing to put in the effort if you are, but you have to let me do some of the work. I’m not gonna flake out.” Jacob hadn’t realized just how spooked Flynn was until he relaxed, tension released from his shoulders. 
“Okay.” Flynn looked at the in-progress pot for a moment, then said, “I’m going to finish fixing the hole, then you can try again. You have to be gentle with it.”
“I know.” Jacob sat patiently, waiting for Flynn finish the repair. Once he did, he pushed the pot to Jacob. He started adding a new coil, but after a couple pinches, Flynn stopped him.
“You’ve got to be gentler than that,” Flynn said. “Can’t you feel when the clay is giving too much?” Without warning, Flynn took Jacob’s hand, looking at his fingers. “Oh, of course you can’t, you’ve got calloused fingertips.” He glanced up at Jacob. “Guitar, I assume?”
Jacob was doing all he could to contain himself. “Uh, yeah, and probably from years of working on an oil rig too.” 
Flynn nodded thoughtfully at the addition, clearly filing it away wherever he was storing facts about Jacob. He hadn’t let go of Jacob’s hand, and this time Jacob wasn’t going to do anything to make him. “You’re pushing too hard, and thus thinning the clay too much at the join, that’s why you punched through,” Flynn explained. He then moved Jacob’s hand back into position, but this time, keeping his hand on top of Jacob’s. Their hands together almost didn��t fit into the pot, but Flynn made it work. “I’m going to press down so you can feel how hard you can go without breaking it, okay?”
Jacob nodded, not trusting words at the moment. Flynn proceeded to work the clay through Jacob’s hand, somehow just as good as he was before. Part of Jacob’s brain noticed that he didn’t push near as hard as Jacob had been when trying to be gentle, and filed it away, but most of his brain was focused on how intently Flynn was watching their hands work, and then how intently he was looking back at Jacob when he stopped. “Did you feel the difference?”
“Uh,” Jacob cleared his throat when it came out husky, “yeah, I did. Thanks. You really know your stuff.”
He noticed Flynn blush a little at the compliment. “Good. Uh,” Flynn realized he was still holding Jacob’s hand and released him, “now you try on your own.” After Jacob satisfactorily did a whole coil, they alternated until they reached a stopping point a third of the way through. “We need to let it dry to leather-hard before we add any more, otherwise it will collapse.”
Jacob vaguely remembered that leather-hard was a term to describe the texture of somewhat dried clay. “Alright. How long is that gonna take?”
Flynn considered the room a bit, thinking. “Today’s a humid day, so it would probably be best to wrap it with a paper towel and leave it in a plastic bag, then check it tomorrow.”
“Alright.” Jacob went and gathered the plastic and paper towels while Flynn fiddled with a coil. “I guess we can come back Monday afternoon?”
“That should be good, yes,” Flynn replied, swaddling the base of the pot with paper towels. He took a strip of plastic and wrapped the rim, and apparently noticed Jacob watching him. “This will keep the top fresh so when we come back, we can continue working it.”
Jacob nodded. He helped Flynn clean their area, replacing tools and wiping down the table. Done with their tasks, they awkwardly stared at each other across the table for a few moments before Jacob said, “Well, guess I’ll see ya Monday then?”
“Yes...see you then,” Flynn said, and then without warning, he rather hastily left the studio.
Jacob watched him go, then sat back down on the stool he’d been sitting on. “Oh Lord.”
---
He felt kind of guilty when he pulled up Clayton’s contact on his phone. He’d not been great about calling like he’d promised when he left Lawton, but Clayton always told him he knew college was hectic and to not worry about it. Still, as the phone rang, Jacob felt bad about calling just to talk about his personal life.
“Hey, long time no call, eh?” Clayton said as he answered.
“Yeah, sorry man. Some of these engineerin’ classes I should’ve tested out of, but they don’t really do that here,” Jacob replied. He was in his apartment, laying on his bed.
“I bet you could test out of half of that degree,” Clayton said with a laugh. “So what’s new with you?”
“I was gonna ask you that first,” Jacob said, feeling his face heat up already.
“You know I’d tell you the same as a few weeks ago, ‘cuz nothing new’s happened,” Clayton replied. “Plus,” Jacob could hear the smile in his voice, “I got a feelin’ you’re gonna ask for advice about somethin’.”
“How’d you, ugh, never mind,” Jacob scoffed, really blushing when Clayton laughed at him again. “Yeah, I got a...situation.”
Clayton sighed. “And who is he?”
Jacob sighed. “He’s in my Native American art history class, we’re partners on the group project, but I actually knew him before it.”
“...Wait, is this the same guy who you studied with in the library?”
Jacob shook his head, yet again surprised by how well Clayton could read him, even over the phone. “Studied near, but yeah. Turns out he’s doin’ a Ph.D. in Native history.”
"So he’s closer to your age?”
“I think so, though he might honestly be younger than me. The man’s got like five degrees already,” Jacob said, not bothering to keep the contempt out of his voice.
“So you went and fell for a genius, huh?”
“He’s a smartass,” Jacob said, but after a moment he added, “yeah, I have.” He was super fortunate to have such a good guy as Clayton he could call his best friend. He’d fallen for him too, briefly, but Clayton didn’t feel the same, and then Clayton decided it was his job to be Jacob’s wingman. 
“And does he feel the same?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t think so at first, but now…”
Clayton chuckled. “Then tell me what happened.” Jacob explained the happenings in the ceramics studio. “Well, he sounds awkward, but I think it’d be best to ask him directly.”
Jacob knew Clayton was going to say that, but he still felt shocked. “I can’t just ask him!”
“Why not?” was all Clayton said.
“‘Cause, well, if he doesn’t, this whole project is gonna be awkward.”
“Isn’t it already though?”
Jacob thought a moment. “Well, I guess, yeah. But I also don’t wanna get distracted before we finish this project. It’s worth half our grade.”
“So you’re just gonna pine away in silence for three months?”
“It might not be three months...Flynn’s too focused on doing this project as quick as we can.” Jacob hadn’t really considered that until now. “If we get the project done quick, then there’s nothin’ stoppin’ me from askin’ him after.”
“That’s the spirit. Let me know how it goes, you know I wouldn’t mind drivin’ up if you needed it.”
“Thanks, Clayton.”
"Anytime, Jacob."
---
Jacob decided that getting the project mostly done was the priority. This meant he had to suffer through two more equally awkward handbuilding sessions before their pot was ready for the first firing. At least in class, Flynn’s back was to him, except when they had class discussions. By the time they started glazing their pot, Jacob swore Flynn knew exactly how he was making him feel.
Glazing was just as messy as he remembered in high school. Flynn didn’t care about the state of the table, or himself, so long as his strips on the pot were perfect replicas of various designs he picked. Compared to the pot making, Jacob turned out to be the better painter. The hardest part for him was picking the designs he wanted to use. 
Jacob was halfway through a strip when Flynn asked, “Where did you learn how to paint?”
Jacob snickered a little. “Same as most everything else, self-taught.” He glanced at Flynn, who currently had smears of blue underglaze where he’d wiped his forehead. “Are ya goin’ for war paint too?”
Flynn narrowed his eyes, confused. “What?”
“You got underglaze on your face,” Jacob said, pointing at Flynn’s forehead with the brush. 
Flynn swiped at his forehead, making the smear worse, which just made Jacob laugh harder. “Oh yeah? Well-” Flynn decided to go for direct retaliation and swiped at Jacob’s face with his orange-covered brush across the table “-Now we match!”
Jacob tried to dodge, about fell off his stool, and Flynn’s brush ended up tapping the end of his nose. He knew better, he really did, but Flynn had worn him down the past week, so Jacob got off his stool, holding his brush out like a rapier. “You’ll regret that,” he growled.
Taking the challenge, Flynn got into a much more trained en-garde stance. “I rather think you will!” Then, without warning, Flynn jumped around the edge of the table at him.
Jacob realized that he was outclassed, but gave a valiant effort anyway. Quickly, Flynn had him giving up ground, forcing him to the sink that sat in the middle of the room between the tables and throwing wheels. “You’ve taken a class on fencing, haven’t you?”
“Lessons, when I was a kid, but yes, I’ve been trained,” Flynn replied, spying for an opening to tag Jacob. Just as Flynn lunged, Jacob dodged left, letting Flynn catch himself on the sink. Flynn shook his head, a mischievous grin on his face. “You, you’ve got some fight experience too.” He took a swipe, forcing Jacob closer to the finished projects shelf. “But not formal, no...brawls, that’s what you get into.”
Jacob took a jab at Flynn, gaining a foot of ground, but Flynn quickly forced him back two. “Not been in a scrap in a while,” Jacob said, trying again to swipe himself some room. 
Seeing Jacob essentially pinned, his left blocked by the stoneware clay reclaim bin and a table, Flynn went for the killing blow. Jacob knew how to read people in fights, and Flynn had gotten to the “confident of a win” stage, so Jacob ducked at the last possible second. This meant he was out of range of the brush, but Flynn was now barreling straight for the shelving. Without thinking, Jacob jumped back up, wrapping his arms around Flynn’s waist as he did and pushing him back away from the shelf.
“I was going to stop myself,” Flynn quipped as Jacob released him.
“I know overshooting when I see it,” Jacob retorted. He hadn’t stepped away from Flynn, nor had Flynn stepped away from him. They were less than a foot apart. Flynn’s eyes were dark, no doubt from the adrenaline of the fight; Jacob assumed he looked a similar state of riled up. He caught himself glancing at Flynn’s mouth without thinking, and was about to step away, until Flynn mimicked him, glancing at his lips.
Jacob closed the distance between them before he could think of reasons why he shouldn’t.
Flynn kissing him back made him forget any of those reasons.
An odd wetness on his forearm made him pull away. Flynn’s paintbrush had made an orange stripe on his arm. He looked back to Flynn, eyes even darker than they had been. “Guess we should finish the pot.”
“Uh, y...yeah,” Flynn said eloquently. “I didn’t know you…”
Jacob laughed under his breath. “You’ve been driving me crazy the past three weeks.”
Flynn’s eyes went wide. “I thought you were angry at me.”
Jacob closed his eyes, a smile on his face. “You really weren’t kiddin’ when you said you’re bad with people.” He opened his eyes when he felt Flynn shaking his head, nose brushing against Jacob’s. “Well, maybe I can teach you a thing or two,” he murmured, giving Flynn a tease of a kiss before pulling away again. “But we really should finish the pot.”
Flynn took a moment to adjust his focus. “Right, yes.” He stepped away, smoothing out his shirt in an effort to make himself look less flustered. He walked over to the pot, but turned back to Jacob following him. “So, we’re doing this?”
The fact that Jacob was now finding Flynn’s awkwardness really endearing was a testament to just how hard he’d fallen for the genius. “I am if you want to.”
Flynn nodded...and nodded some more before he responded, “Okay, good, yes, I very much want to do that again.”
Jacob laughed. “Well, we can make out as much as we want after we finish this pot, ‘cause the next firing is two days from now and it needs to dry before then.”
The motivation of more set a fire in Flynn’s belly; he attacked the pot with his brush, clearly caring less about perfect replication and more about finishing in the same general design so he could go do better things. Jacob put a little more effort into his, and thus was still painting when Flynn finished his underglaze design and cleaned his materials up. Flynn managed to sit there for 30 seconds before he interrupted Jacob. “How much longer will you take?”
Jacob glanced over at him, an eyebrow raised. “Why, you got somewhere you gotta be?” Flynn squirmed on his stool, making Jacob feel the heat of satisfaction in his chest. “I’ll be done when I’m done. I might just reward ya for your patience,” Jacob said with a smirk. 
Flynn practically melted under his gaze, ears going red. “Okay...fine.”
It was just too fun seeing the effect of his words on Flynn. “Can you wait a little more for me?” Jacob rumbled, letting his voice get low and gravelly. “I’ll make it worth your while.” Flynn shuddered, making Jacob smile. 
After Jacob slightly more hastily finished his strips, Flynn practically threw himself at him. Jacob had to make himself shove Flynn off him. “Hey, I didn’t say you could do that,” Jacob growled more than he had meant to; Flynn shuddered a bit. “We need to clean up, and not make out in a public classroom.” Flynn looked like he was enjoying getting told what to do too much, red flush on his face and neck, but eyes definitely staring Jacob down. “Look, once we clean up, we can go to my apartment, alright?”
Flynn, also very aware of how he was affecting Jacob, moved back into Jacob’s space. “You took entirely too long to say that,” he said, voice low and a bit breathy. Flynn leaned–not to kiss Jacob again, but to grab the dirty paint brushes on the workbench, making Jacob lean into empty air. Flynn looked at him expectantly. “Well? We better clean up then.”
“You little…” Jacob shook his head, smiling deviously. Flynn preened as he dramatically walked to the sink, knowing full well Jacob’s eyes were on him. 
They could’ve been perhaps more thorough in their cleaning, if they weren’t both busy imagining what they were going to do to each other once they got to Jacob’s apartment. 
---
The next class, Jacob had intended to play it cool, meaning acting like nothing unusual happened between him and Flynn. That fell flat when Flynn, arriving just barely on time as usual, strode over to Jacob with a dopey grin on his face. For a moment Jacob was terrified Flynn was going to kiss him in front of the whole class. Thankfully, Flynn just patted Jacob’s hand, purposely drawing his fingers away sensually, and then sat in his seat. 
Once his brain restarted, Jacob looked around as discreetly as he could manage. No one seemed to have noticed, expect Dr. Mashunkashey, who was watching him with curiosity. Thankfully, she started class, and Jacob did his best to take notes and not reach out and pet the back of Flynn’s head.
On the way out of class, Dr. Mashunkashey stopped Jacob. “Jacob, can you talk for a moment?”
Jacob looked to Flynn, who was all but dragging him out of class to “work on the paper” which Jacob knew wasn’t what he was planning. Flynn didn’t seem to think anything amiss, so he said, “I’ll meet you outside,” and left the classroom.
“Everything okay with your project?” she asked, glancing at the door. “I know Flynn can be a bit...much, so if you need me to talk to him, I can.”
Jacob went a bit red, but tried to power through. “Oh, uh, nah, everything’s good. We’ve even started making our art piece.” 
Dr. Mashunkashey seemed a bit surprised with his response. “Well, that’s certainly a change. I look forward to seeing what you two make together.”
Jacob’s brain of course heard “seeing you two together” and had to blink a few times to refocus himself. “I, uh, think it’ll be pretty good. It’s been a long while since I worked with clay, though that’s apparently one of Flynn’s many damn talents.” Jacob kicked himself internally, cursing in front of a professor like that.
Dr. Mashunkashey, to Jacob’s surprise, gave a hearty laugh. “I wouldn’t say it’s often I teach students who have more degrees than I do children. Though I think you could put Flynn in his paces from your papers so far.”
“Oh, I don’t think I could be as good as him,” Jacob retorted, pausing as he briefly considered what that would entail, “I’d have to quadruple major or something.”
“Well, I don’t want to keep you. Flynn seemed pretty eager to get to work.”
“Yeah...he really likes to work on things when he’s focused on them,” Jacob replied, pointedly making his way towards the door so he didn’t have to directly look at the professor. “Have a good day, Professor.”
“You too, Jacob,” she said with a wave. 
Flynn was apparently waiting to pounce on him in the hallway, which Jacob had briefly pondered if he would, so he braced his arm to keep Flynn off him. While it did keep Flynn from macking on him, Flynn also took his arm and entwined his own, and started walking down the hall. “What did she have to talk about?”
“Oh, uh, she asked if we were doing okay–I mean, our project,” Jacob stammered, glancing down at their arms.
Flynn didn’t seem to care and just kept walking towards the stairs. “Oh, well I bet she was surprised to hear I’m not procrastinating on a project for once. Speaking of projects,” Flynn leaned to speak lowly into Jacob’s ear, “I was thinking we could move our research to your place, or mine.”
“Uh huh,” Jacob chuckled. “Well, I suppose we could do that.”  
They did not, in fact, work on their project that morning.
---
In the end, they got an A on their papers, project, and presentation of said project. And Dr. Mashunkashey won her bet against her colleagues that Jacob and Flynn would get together by the end of her class.
-----
Post Notes: Sorry for the quick ending, I’ve been sitting on this fic since February and never finished it, so I figured making an ending and getting it out was better than it sitting in my google drive forever. Also, when it comes to ages, I saw them both as a bit older than your usual 18-22 college students; for both they’re at least 23 or so, Jacob from working with his father, and Flynn from doing other degrees. 
The University of Tulsa doesn’t have a Native American studies program (they really should though given location and history of the school), but they do have a well-known petroleum engineering program, which is what gave me the idea of how to get Stone to school. Considering Flynn’s all about ancient history studies, surely the ancient American people he knows about too. And I’m assuming Jacob grew up somewhere out near Lawton, OK, based on the mileage he gave in “And What Lies Beneath the Stones” since the actual town Wagoner (Wagner was what they used in the episode) is about 45 minutes southeast from Tulsa.
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