#still trying to get back into the swing of things & locate all of my el files lmao

[love-kurdt]

Swooping, Sloping, Cursive Letters: 11

word count: 1,194

PLEASE READ THIS IS ME TRYING FIRST, AS THIS STORY RELIES HEAVILY UPON THE CONTEXT OF TIMT

July 28, 1988

Dear Will,

Tonight was… well, it was something else. Not how I expected it to go. I had gone to bed super early, since all our late night walkie conversations have been catching up to me. But you obviously had other plans. I woke up to the sound of light tapping on my bedroom window. I was so thrown off, since I’m usually the one sneaking out in the middle of the night, but there you were at 1am, hunched over my window sill, wearing a The Cure tee shirt and a pair of gym shorts. I still don’t know how you’re able to just walk around at night in such light clothing; I’d bundled up in preparation to sleep tonight because summer nights always get super cold out of nowhere, and I turn into an icicle otherwise. “What are you doing here?” I’d asked stupidly as I let you in. You grinned up at me and asked, “Wanna go somewhere?” You had that mischievous gleam in your eyes that never fails to make me simultaneously nervous and excited. When I’d asked what place you had in mind, you simply shook your head, insisting upon the location being a surprise.

I asked you if you wanted a sweatshirt or something before we headed out, you shook your head, insisted that you were fine… and then you shivered. I smirked down at you with a look that said, I told you so, before rifling through my closet to pull out a hoodie and toss it in your direction. As I watched you put my sweatshirt on, I got the feeling I always get whenever you wear (or steal) my clothes— the closest word I can use to describe it is possessiveness. The good kind, I promise. It gives me purpose– purpose for you, specifically– which is kind of my kryptonite, if I’m being honest. So, with that said, please feel free to take my whole wardrobe. Cool? Cool.

We stealthily made it out of my window and down onto the ground without dying, and then we grabbed our bikes before making our great escape. We biked out into the night, wind whipping through our hair, and I just felt so free. And for a second, just a split second, I imagined what it would be like if we were together, and we were sneaking off to make out in the woods or something. That would be so romantic. Or scary. I don’t know, but a guy can dream, right? Okay, I’m getting off topic.

We ended up sitting at the top of the cliff at the quarry, a place familiar to the both of us, but more haunting to me, if anything. I still haven’t told you the full backstory about what happened that day with Troy, James, Dustin, and El. I don’t think I ever will, to be honest. You’d just blame yourself for what I did. And that’s the last thing I want. Anyway, we sat there for 3 hours and talked about anything and everything. At one point, I asked you if you thought falling in love was in the cards for us. 

“What?” you said, turning to me with wide eyes. I realized then that it sounded like I had asked if you thought we would fall in love. Honestly, I probably would have come out to you right then if it weren’t for the look of horror painted on your face. So I backtracked.

“I mean… for either of us? Like, do you think you’ll ever fall in love?”

“I mean, speaking for myself…” you replied, swinging your legs back and forth over the edge of the cliff, just like you had on the swings the first day we met, “No, I don’t think so.” I asked why, and you said, “I don’t think I’m, like, lovable. I’m too damaged.” Which is so not true, because… well, Exhibit A: Michael James Wheeler, presenting with a severe case of Down Bad.

“Same here,” I said, looking up at the stars. “God, I thought I was the only one.”

“No, Mike, you’re far from unlovable,” you told me. You turned towards me then, lifting one leg back onto the ground below us and crossing it in front of you, and reached your hand out to touch the back of mine. If you saw me blushing… no you didn’t. “First of all,” you continued, “you’re not damaged; you’re perfect, just the way you are. Secondly, how could anyone not fall in love with you?”

“Very easily, apparently,” I said automatically, and I watched your eyebrows furrow.

“…You’re talking about El,” you frowned, and I’d instantly regretted opening my mouth at all. I was actually talking about both El and you. Because El and I never truly loved each other romantically, and you… you won’t ever love me in the way I love you.

“Yeah, but—“ I made an attempt to change the subject, to distance our conversation from the topic of my love life. But I failed miserably, because you cut me off with your typical, constant reassurance and encouragement.

“Just you wait, one day you’re gonna look back on this conversation and laugh. Any person would be incredibly lucky to be with you.”

Person. Person, Will. You’re my person. That’s what I wanted to say. But instead, my dumb ass said, “You really think so?”

“Yeah,” you told me, tears forming in your eyes, and I felt like I was in the van all over again. I was fucking this up, like, majorly.

“Well, that goes for you, too, Will. Seriously,” I said. “You’re incredible, and anyone who can’t see that is… a fucking idiot.” I, out of all people, would know. I was blind to my feelings for you for years.

You glanced down at our hands, brushing your thumb over my wrist before scoffing out a sarcastic, “Eloquent, Wheeler.” And don’t think I didn’t notice those beautiful eyes of yours light up when I turned my palm upwards, linking our fingers together. I swear, it’s like our hands were meant to hold each other. 

“I’ll take the compliment, Byers,” I said, and then you changed the topic to something along the lines of how you wanted to paint the scene in front of us in the style of Van Gogh. I think you should go for it. You could totally pull it off.

We left the quarry around 4:45am, and you biked all the way back to my house with me, even though your house is in the complete opposite direction. You wrapped your arms around my waist and pulled me into a tight hug, and I held onto you right back, basking in the affection for as long as I could before it could get weird. I went right to my desk to write this as soon as you left, and now the exhaustion has crept up on me. So I’m gonna end the letter here. It’s more of a novel, actually.

I love you. I always will, Will. I know, the pun is getting really old. But the opportunity was right there.

Love,

Mike

-

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[talesofstyles]

Stitches and Pucks

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

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

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

[17k]

Harry

I swear I’m gonna kill Zayn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does that mean I get your number?”

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

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

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

Perfect fucking lips.

“I don’t shit where I eat,” she adds.

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

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

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

“The Athletic Trainer?”

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

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

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

She nods. “I’ve met her twice.”

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We all bark in laughter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Come here. Come here. Come here.

Fuck, she goes with Sarah to the bar.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

“From the seizure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No, seriously... I like her laugh.

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

We’ll get there, I’m sure.

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Again, I ignore his comment.

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

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

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

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

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

I shove him off with a chuckle. That bastard.

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I shake my head again. “Nope.”

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

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

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

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

“You sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Doc,” I tell her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why? Got a hot date already?”

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

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

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

“How about tomorrow night then?”

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I close in on the goalie and juke left.

He goes left and I juke right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up,” I growl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks, Doc,” I smile at her.

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

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

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

“Do I have to?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I shake my head and say, “nope.”

“Clicking or popping?”

“Nope.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” I ask incredulously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

She laughs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

And there she is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He can do that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

“Good, huh?” She asks with a smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I would.”

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So?” I ask, playing dumb.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hey, what are you doing today?

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

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

Want some company? I quickly type.

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

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

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

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

Give me half an hour.

Perfect.

—

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

Until today.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re not my boyfriend.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

“The chicken?” She murmurs.

“Among other things,” I reply softly.

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

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

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

“Good?” She asks with a grin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She laughs.

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

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

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

—

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

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

Wait? What?

Sleep.

Couch.

We fell asleep on her couch while watching a film.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You can cook?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What have you got planned?”

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

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

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

—

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

This is nice.

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

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

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

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

“Want another?” I ask her.

“No,” she groans. “I’m so full.”

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

She shakes her head.

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

“Fucking hopeless,” Matt mutters and Alex snickers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“An autograph, then?” She asks.

“Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come here.”

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

I tap my thigh, “right here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There’s nothing else but her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” is all I say.

“But-”

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

“Where?”

“Just get in the car, Doc.”

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

“This is where I’ll find a way to occupy that beautiful mouth of yours if you keep asking questions and ruin the surprise,” I tell her and she gives a tinkling laugh.

“Promises, promises,” she singsongs and I just roll my eyes.

It only takes about fifteen minutes from Cedars-Sinai Hospital where she works to the closest beach where I plan to take her for an impromptu picnic date night. We only had to stop by to get some pizza because I already have a cooler with a six-pack of beers loaded in the back of my car. It’s a little too late for sunset, but the purplish black of twilight is lush.

“The beach, huh,” she deadpans. “You brought me out here to seduce me?”

“You naughty girl,” I clutch a hand to my chest and make an exaggerated gasp of disbelief. “That’s indecent exposure that is.”

She laughs as she opens the door of the car and hops out. I do the same, then I open the back door to pull out the pizza, blanket and the cooler with beers inside before letting her help by taking the blanket.

Somehow we have the beach to ourselves tonight, and she points out a nice spot for us to sit. I agree, so I let her spread out the blanket. After both of us have our butts firmly planted, side by side, facing the ocean, I take two beers out and hand one to her.

“Ooh, we’re going fancy tonight,” she says when she sees that I brought microbrews instead of cheap beer.

I chuckle as I open the pizza box and grab a slice of the cheesy goodness that will probably clog my artery, then we talk about our day as we eat. I tell her the funny things that happened at practice today, including a joke that Marcel told us in the locker room which most would probably find insulting, but I know my girl is used to locker room talk and would find it hilarious, and she tells me what she did in the hospital. Apparently, they were so busy today that her lunch break lasted less than ten minutes.

“You never cease to amaze me, Doc,” I tell her honestly. “It’s so cool what you do for a living. Impressive as hell.”

“Thanks, Harry,” she says softly. “That means a lot.”

It’s completely dark by the time we finish our pizza, but the view is still lush since the moon is bright, causing the water to look like it’s covered in floating, crushed diamonds.

We’re silent as we sip our beers, and I love that we can sit in comfortable silence as well as talk for hours. It’s crazy to think that it’s only been a few weeks that we’ve known each other yet I just feel such a strong connection with her. I love that we’re so in tune with each other that sometimes we say the same things and steal lines from one another. We have a similar sense of humour and we can even exchange an inside joke with just a glance.

I loosen my hold of her when she pulls away from my side embrace. Her head swivels to me, and I can see the moon glittering in her eyes. “I owe you an apology.”

“What?” I look at her in confusion.

“I misjudged you, Harry,” she says with a tender smile. “When you asked me out, I outright told you that you’re a player without even giving you a chance to explain yourself. I made an assumption, and that was wrong of me. I’m sorry.”

“And your assumption was right,” I tell her honestly with a light chuckle. “There is nothing to apologise for. It was common knowledge, I was a manwhore.”

She snorts. “Shut up, I’m serious.”

“Me too,” I squeeze her hand. “You didn’t misjudge me, Doc, you knew exactly the type of guy I used to be.”

She has a dreamy smile on her face when she says, “kiss me.”

“No, you come here and kiss me,” I say, and I’m pretty sure she can see my eyes sparkling with mischief.

She rolls her eyes and mutters “fine” under her breath as she plants her knees on the sides of my legs, but I don’t miss the light in her eyes which tells me that she likes the idea.

Closing her eyes, she dips her mouth to mine and now I’m wondering if the two years of jail time and a fine for indecent exposure is worth it if I were to take her right here right now.

—

We’re in New York for two away games in a row, tonight against the Rangers which we won 3-1, and tomorrow night against the Devils. I’m chuffed not only because we won and I played great, but I also had a great day today before the game with my girl. We didn’t do much since she wanted me to save my energy for the game tonight, but we did walk around our hotel and ended up napping on the couch in the room that I share with Marcel.

We all ride on the team bus that takes us from the hotel to the arena and back to the hotel after we finish the game. I wanted her to sit next to me, but for both trips, to the arena and back, she gave me a slight shake of her head and sat with the girls along with the rest of the staff in the front.

When I hop off the bus though, I see her waiting for me with a grin on her face. I kiss the fuck out of her, not caring about my teammates who whistle and yell, “get a room.”

“Which floor are you on again?” I ask her as we enter the lift. I want to walk her to her room just to spend a few minutes more with her.

Yeah, laugh all you want. I know I’m fucking whipped.

“Tenth,” she says, pulling her room key out of her handbag and hands it to me so I can scan it then tap the button on number ten.

“Wanna catch an early breakfast with me tomorrow?” I ask her as we approach her room that she shares with the team’s orthopaedic surgeon, Callie.

“Sure. What time?”

“We’re leaving for light skate practice at 9:30, so we should have plenty of time if we meet down there at 8:30.”

“Sounds good,” she nods as we reach her door.

There’s a handwritten note stuck in between the door and the jamb. She puts her key in the card slot, opens the door slightly, and snag the piece of paper. She opens it up and I look over her shoulder at the note as we read it silently together.

YN,

Marcel and Joslynn are hooking up and they’re in his room which means Harry has been kicked out. I’m going to sleep with Macy instead, so you and Harry can have this room. Unless you want Harry to go sleep with Macy?

No? Didn’t think so.

Have fun you two.

Callie

“This is Alex, Matt and Marcel’s doing,” I tell her with absolute certainty as she twists her neck to look at me. “I’ll just get an extra room for tonight.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she chuckles. “You can sleep here. We’ve spent the night together before.”

“Yeah, but that was different. We fell asleep on the couch, it wasn’t intentional,” I point out. “I don’t trust myself sleeping in the same bed with you, Doc. I’m not going to be able to help myself.”

“Well, good,” she says, smiling mischievously. “Cause I’m done wait-”

That’s as far as she gets before I push her through the door, backing her into the room. My mouth hits her only moments before her legs hit the edge of the bed and we both go tumbling onto it.

This is when we realise there’s a huge box of condoms with 144 packs inside it in the middle of the bed. On the top, there’s another note and I recognise Matt’s handwriting on it.

You’re welcome by the way

“I freaking love your teammates,” she says with a laugh.

I guess I owe those fuckers some beers.

[rhmg-au]

The sequel to the first one, only in the Toppats’ POV.

More will come for these two stories, but beware of major angst ;)

This AU belongs to @rhmg-au . Please follow them, reblog their art, give them fanart, support them in any way possible, etc.

TW: Killing, blood, gore, implied torture

———

Ellie was panicking.

She was extremely scared at the moment, scared that something could go wrong, scared that they could be wiped out from existence, scared that the government had already did something to Henry.

A few days ago, the leader of the Toppats orchestrated a plan to rescue the captured members. Of course, it came with risks, risks that they could be killed or taken along with them, and there’s the matter of that killer…but Henry wanted to save them, and he’ll be willing to take the fall if it meant that they were safe.

So, they went along with the plan, and it was mostly successful…mostly.

They were able to come and collect who they came for, but Henry…wasn’t so lucky.

He was captured.

Since she is his right hand lady, Ellie took the responsibility as temporary leader until they were able to bust him out, or even be permanent if…she doesn’t want to think what would happen to him now that he’s in their grasp.

If only she had gone back for him, despite his claims that he’ll be alright. God, she felt like such a failure for letting him be taken.

After what he had done for her, helping her out of the Wall, she failed to return the favour.

Her mental state wasn’t as bad as Reginald’s though…anyone would be doing better than him. Ask anyone on this space station and they’ll say the same thing as her thoughts.

What happened during the launch sequence made something inside of him snap.

And she couldn’t blame him, anyone who had to see their close friend be taken away by your enemies and you couldn’t do anything about it would be enough to shatter someone’s confidence.

She’s growing very concerned for him as the days past though…especially after Henry was captured.

She was sitting in the office, the one where the leader’s got. Stacks of papers were filling her desk, most were finished but there’s still uncompleted paperwork she has to do, and she felt like she was having a headache from them. Great power comes with great responsibility, and that quote literally defines what being the leader of the Toppat Clan is like.

She’d seen bags under Henry’s eyes from time to time, and now she’s probably going to have them too at this rate.

There was a knock on the door, causing Ellie to look away from her work. “Please come in.”

The door opened up, giving in light into the room. Sabine Setorion entered, her sky blue hair swaying despite there wasn’t any wind inside the space station, the face that contained that unhealed third-degree burn and stitched scar as well as a purple earpiece used for communications is recognizable to anyone. Another thing that made her stand out from the rest was that she had all of her limbs replaced by cybernetics, well almost all of them. The only one left is her right arm. Her spine, left arm, and legs were reconstructed with metal, similar to Right.

“I’m not bothering you, am I?”

Ellie shook her head, swinging her chair around to face her. “You aren’t, really. What is it you want to talk about?”

Sabine shut the door behind her, blocking the light out and leaving them in near darkness again, had there not be a lampshade on the desk, or the blinds opened to showcase the stars. “About your proposal of going down to earth and saving Henry. The executives agreed on it.”

The red haired perked up at this, the meeting ended around 3 hours ago, when she proposed the idea of raiding the government to get their leader back. Not that she just wanted to not be leader anymore, she wanted Henry back safe and sound.

“This can have terrible consequences, but bringing home our family is worth the risk.”

“But we’re also gambling the lives of the rest for the others. I do want Henry back as much as you do, him being my childhood friend and all, but I don’t feel comfortable with endangering the lives of the other Toppats.” Sabine adjusted her blue top hat with a metallic band around it, feeling like it would fall off at any given moment.

“I understand your concern, but as long as we’re well prepared and everything goes smoothly, we should be able to go through without anyone falling.” Ellie stood up from her seat and placed a hand on her shoulder, in attempt at comfort.

“Well, if you’re really sure. I’m just worried is all.” Sabine smiled a little at the gesture.

“We’re in this together, no matter what comes our way.” Ellie mirrored her smile.

“We should prepare ourselves for tomorrow then, huh?”

“Alright, alright. It’s nighttime from what the clock said, so let’s head to bed.”

———

The day arrived.

Screams were heard, bullets were fired, blood was shed.

The raid began approximately ten minutes ago, when the Toppats gathered around the government base, readying their weapons and the signal Ellie would give for them to attack.

As soon as it was, the stage was set.

“The cells are there, come on!” Ellie urged the two Toppats following her, Reginald and Earrings, to where the holding cells are located.

Obviously, Reginald was onboard with the plan, it was mostly for Right rather than Henry, it was understandable. He wanted his right hand man back after weeks of separation. Ellie was feeling the exact same, except that Henry wasn’t gone for the same time period as Right was, she’s still determined to get them both back regardless of time differences. Earrings was there because of her battle functions with her earrings, she’d be a great distraction provider should the need arise.

A few soldiers stood in their way, preparing their guns to shoot at them. Earrings was quick to react as she shined her diamond earrings at them, blinding them and causing them to drop their weapons, prompting an easy victory as they overpowered the disorientated soldiers.

“I swear if they done something to Righty…” Reginald mumbled to himself, the pistol tight in his grasp as he shot the last bullet into one of the soldier’s head.

“If they did, we’ll tear this place down. I can guarantee that, isn’t that correct El?” Earrings turned to Ellie, who finished off the last military person with a kick to the gut. 

“How could I pass up that opportunity for what they did to us? Our family?” She asked, her red hair flying against the wind that came up.

“Let’s get going, before more soldiers come.” The former leader of the clan mentioned, overlooking the chaos that came with their attack.

It was horrifying to watch, to say the least. Many Toppats and soldiers charging into the fray and either getting severely hurt, killed or apprehended, that last one only applying to the clan members. It felt painful to watch, as their family get slaughtered for the sake of everyone else in the clan, or they get captured. Either of them doesn’t sit right with them.

What they’d give to stop this endless cycle of hurt.

But they weren’t going to make senseless wishes as if they would come true. They need to take matters into their own hands, things aren’t going to resolve on their own. Miracles are just myths that aren’t true and are only told to children.

Ellie and Earrings nodded quickly, the three of them going into the cells, rushing down the halls with metal bars speeding past them as they try to find their acquaintances, while also shooting down guards on their way.

They stopped at one particular cell, sitting inside was a familiar individual.

“Henry!” Said male perked up from where he’s sitting on the bed, rushing over to the bars, a smile crossing his face at the sight of seeing the clan still well.

“Ellie? Reginald? Earrings?” He questioned, as if he thought this was a dream or his mind decided to torment him with a fake promise of getting out of this enclosed space of a cell.

By the time that sentence was spoken, the door was opened by the blonde Toppat, having picklocked it while he was talking. “It is, we’ve come to bust you out.”

“Where’s Right? Is he here somewhere? Is he hurt?” Reginald immediately asked, still not relived, he’ll only be once he finds where Right is and brings him back with him safely.

Henry looked away for a moment, a face full of guilt. That didn’t mean any good. “He’s not in the cells-”

“Then where is he?!”

“He’s…been rewired.”

“What?”

“Rewired, they turned him to their side. I tried to snap him out of it, but I wasn’t able to.”

A moment of silence initiated between the four, everyone but Henry speechless. Reginald was easily the one to be the most devastated, Right working for the enemy by force…he knew the government wasn’t kind but this was insane.

“Those…heartless bastards!” He shouted suddenly, his grip on his pistol and his fist clenched so tight it made his knuckles underneath his black gloves turn to a stark white. “I can’t believe they had the will to do this! This is torture!”

“Reg, we need to keep our heads calm, being rash isn’t going to-” Ellie knew how dangerous it was to go headfirst into trouble out of sheer rage, despite she herself doing that a lot.

“We’re going to save him, take this whole place down and get the clan back to the orbital station.” Reginald’s tone of voice changed to that of commanding, stern, full of rage. At the moment, he didn’t care about anything other than Right, the clan, and taking down the government, too blinded by anger to think clearly like he usually was.

“We need one other person before we go.” Henry’s voice spoke up, getting out of the cell with the three, a revolver tossed into his hand by Ellie. “He may work for the government, but it’s clear that he’s seen just how horrible their general is.”

“But are we really going to make it out if we save him?” Reginald questioned, getting some of his composure back, but it wasn’t enough to quell his rage.

“He genuinely tried to help, I saw it all. He’s worth saving just like him.”

Before an answer could be made, a bullet shot through the air, barely missing Earrings’ arm.

The four of them turned to the guard who fired at them, and he was about to pull the trigger again when he was stabbed from behind, by a sword it seemed. The body was discarded off from the blade, revealing a bloodied faced Sabine standing there, breathing heavily.

“You need any help?”

“Nice timing there.” Earrings muttered, a sigh of relief leaving her.

“Actually, I have a proposal. You and Earrings can go find Right while the rest of us can find whoever Henry needs to look for.” Ellie suggested, looking around to see if anymore guards are coming to arrest them.

It doesn’t seem like the worst of ideas, yet it does has it downfalls.

But if that guy is really important…and if he wants to focus on his goal of finding Right…

“Very well. Come along, Earrings.” Reginald took her arm and ran down the hallway, back to where they first got into the cells.

“Who is this person you say is important?” Sabine asked, once the two are out of sight and Ellie made sure no more guards are coming in to arrest their asses.

“He is actively trying to help Right, he now sees just how horrible the general is. We need to help him, just like how he’s helping us taking back our friend.” Henry explained, gesturing with his hand for the two to follow him.

“Wait, is he out on the battlefield?” Ellie asked, running down the hall.

Henry shook his head, his expression now showcasing guilt. “No, before you guys came, I saw that bastard hit him on the head, knocking him unconscious, and dragged him away from me.” His face contorted into rage. “He’s doing something to him, I know of it.”

“We’ll get him back, and when we do, are you going to have him join the clan?” Sabine questioned, all of them now outside of the cells as they continued to follow where Henry’s heading.

“He’ll be much better off with us than that bastard, that’s for sure.” Henry responded, already having made up his mind about it. He would more than likely accept, since the experience with such an abusive asshole had an impact on him.

They soon reached a building, it was stark white on the outside, it had glass doors, revealing a white hallway behind them. It didn’t look as bright as it could have been, since the sky was a dark grey, it didn’t quite captured the full beauty of the construction as the clear day and sunlight did.

“This is the place where he’s taken to?” Ellie questioned, shooting a soldier who tried to attack them.

“Yeah, he told me about this yesterday, a lab. I believe this is where he is.” Henry answered, pushing open the glass doors to allow them to enter.

“And if it’s not?”

“Then we keep searching until we find him.”

They ran down the white hallway, stopping at two other doors that are made of plastic, or some other material. The windows giving them a little sneak peak inside, an operating table was there, multiple types of equipment were there, and something looked like it was raising above the floor as if it was being consumed but it got stuck halfway through the ground.

Soon, they were treated to the full version. It wasn’t too different to an average lab, but the technology there and the lifted up piece in the floor was different than a regular lab.

The group looked at one another, nodding in unison. There was only one way to settle their suspicions, well more of Henry’s but you get the point.

They quickly headed down the stairs, an opened door at the end.

When they got to the bottom of the stairs, they saw who was in the room.

General Galeforce, Dr. V and two other people in chairs, seemingly strapped down to them, dried blood, cuts, bruises, and a torn uniform were seen.

Immediately, Henry held up his revolver, a dark glare on his face now. “Let them go, now.”

Sabine let her eyes wander to the blonde woman, hers and Dr. V’s eyes widening when they recognize who the other was.

“Sabine?”

“Mother?”

[skullrock]

the campers, chapter four - Steve x Reader

gif by @harringtown​

chapter four: the routine

series summary: Steve gets a job as a camp counselor at Camp Know Where, intending on using the summer to discover himself. When things start to go wrong at camp, the only people that can help him are the Party, Hopper, and his mortal enemy - you. [Enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort]

chapter summary: The first week of camp is in full swing, bringing a few surprises with it.

warnings: swearin’!

word count: 4k (hehe)

a/n: this chapter encompasses the time span of a week so it’s a lil long and has some stuff happening but I hope you enjoy! things are spicin’ up but not like you’d expect! you can catch up on the series here! (ps Hop didn’t die in s4 because I said so <3)

===

Camp Know Where buzzes with excitement as the new campers file in on Monday. This is Steve’s first ever orientation - well, besides the one he just went through. He’s never been in a position like this, and he’s nervous as he checks people in. But it’s an easy job.

Until the Party walks in.

Steve stares at them all, mouth agape. El, Mike, Max, Lucas, Will - they’re all here, all carrying bags. Mike takes the lead, glaring tensely at Steve, as usual. Steve avoids him and looks at El. “Are you allowed to be here?”

She nods. “Hop’s letting me.”

Steve shakes his head and finds their names on the roster. He should have known, should have seen their names, but it’s actually a nice surprise. Well, except for Mike. But he’s happy everyone else is here.

“Where’s Dustin?” Lucas asks.

“Helping with move in.” Steve looks up. “Does he know you’re here?”

“It’s a surprise,” Will says, beaming.  

“That’s nice,” Steve says slowly. “Well, don’t be dickheads, okay? Don’t make my job harder for me.”

El shakes her head, but Mike scoffs, “You’re a counselor?”

Steve gestures to his shirt. “Did you think I just disappeared for the past two weeks?”

“I hoped so.”

Max hits his arm. “Come on, let’s go.”

They all step past the table, and Steve puts his head in his hands. They’re gonna kill me, he thinks. A part of him is really happy they’re here, though. He’s not sure if that means he really is fond of them, or if he’s just happy that he can keep them safe here. He straightens and continues helping others check in, directing them to their cabins.

You come up a while later, suppressing a smile as you approach him. He looks flustered, perfected hair now a mess. His cheeks are red and his brows are furrowed as he tries to figure out how many more kids are left to come in.

“How’s it going?” you ask.

He looks up and smiles softly. “So great.”

“It’s not all this boring,” you explain. “Or stressful. It’ll be fun soon, I promise.”

He rolls his eyes playfully. “You better not be lying to me.”

“What if I am?”

He thinks for a moment. “I’ll flip your kayak.”

You laugh - a loud, ringing laugh. Steve smiles, pleased to have earned it from you. He wants your friendship to go smoothly, he wants you to like him. After yesterday’s confrontation and subsequent confession of enjoyment, he was starting to think maybe it was going to work out. Maybe you both weren’t going to dislike each other.

You straighten, still smiling down at him. “I’d like to see you try, Steve.” You knock twice on the table he’s at. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

Steve nods, and you linger for just a second longer before heading off.

===

Steve continues to surprise you through the first week.

Though you still don’t get the appeal of him, you notice that many of the campers love going to see him for their intramurals. And he’s really good at teaching kids how to dodge a ball, or serve, or kayak. You’d never seen nerds so excited to interact with a jock, but they were, and it was actually heartwarming to see. You watched from the sidelines on your breaks as Steve helped teach kids tennis and soccer, his face red from the sun but beaming. He’d pause to wave at you before continuing, and you had a hard time prying yourself away from the scene. It was like it was in his nature to be a teacher, to care after others - and you’d never really seen that in a preppy jock before.

You also never expected a guy like Steve, known jerk, to be so good at interacting with kids.

You’re walking along the shore before dinner on Thursday when you hear shouts coming from the lake. You squint as you look out before seeing the source.

Steve had taught the kids a new game on the kayaks. They’d pass a ball with their paddles back and forth, and if they could get the ball into the seat of their opponent, they got a point. It was probably extremely dangerous, but the kids had fun, and so did he. He was soaked to the bone after every game, but his face hurt from laughing, and that was enough.

You watch from the shore as he and three other campers play, and you shake your head. Another counselor, Mia, comes up behind you and laughs. “He’s pretty popular, huh?”

“Always has been,” you say, turning to face her.

“He’s nice to watch, isn’t he?” She stands on her tiptoes to look past you. “I could watch that man’s arms for days.” You roll your eyes, and she frowns. “You don’t think so?”

You sigh. “He’s just… Steve. I don’t get the appeal.”

“You’re the only one, it seems,” she says, smiling again. “What is he, your villain origin story?”

It’s surprising how accurate the phrasing is. “It’s complicated.”

She shrugs. “You seem to get along well now, at least. Put in a good word for me, yeah?”

Your words catch in your throat as she walks away. 

Part of you does like Steve. You find enjoyment in him - he’s goofy, he’s funny, he’s kind, and he’s smart. But he’s also the person who made you cry every summer. He’s your childhood bully - how could you enjoy his company? You confuse yourself with your own feelings. It’s like mental gymnastics, trying to hang on to your anger and resentment while equally wanting to like him.

You shake your thoughts out of your head and walk off the shore, away from Steve and his charm.

===

The week ends on Friday, leaving everyone exhausted. The Party kept Steve busy when he wasn’t leading intramurals, draining him fully of his energy. They were going to watch a movie with Suzie in one of the recreation rooms, leaving Steve by himself. He was worn and tired, sunburnt and hot. But he still jogged up to you when he sees you after dinner.

“Y/N!”

You whirl around to face him, a friendly smile crossing your face as he comes up.

“Hey,” he says. “Haven’t talked to you in a while.”

“Just since Monday.”

He shrugs. “Felt like a long time.”

There’s a silence before you clear your throat. “How was your week?”

A wide smile spreads over his face. “It was amazing!”

You let him gush, because you’re genuinely interested. He tells you about how easy it is for him to talk to the campers, how he created Kayak Ball (“still working on a better name”), and how he’d made some friends with other counselors. Which leads him to ask, “Are you going to the bonfire tonight?”

Shit.

The annual First Friday Bonfire was tonight, and you’d forgotten all about it. It was usually a very spiritual experience - people would write stories from their past, things that bother them, share it to the group, and then burn the paper in the flames. It was like a reawakening - fire is cleansing, after all. Just last year, you’d wrote about the Steve standing in front of you, hair disheveled and grinning dorkily. You burned the paper and went on with your life.

You never expected he’d be here. It’s a bit mind-boggling.

“Yeah,” you say. “Are you?”

“If you are,” he says, suddenly uncertain. “I don’t really know -”

“Steve, everyone here loves you. You’ve made friends.” You hope the bitterness you feel isn’t being translated into your tone. “You can hang out with these people. They like you.”

He nods, frowning. “I know. It’s just….” He sighs heavily. “I’ve never had people… like me before.”

Your stomach falls as you remember what he had told you about - how he hadn’t talked to Tommy since junior year. These were the first adults he had interacted with in years; he was bound to be nervous.

“I’ll be there.” You reach out and squeeze his shoulder. “But you don’t need me. Everyone here thinks you’re incredible.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re the only thing the girl counselor cabin talks about.”

You see a blush creep up his cheeks. “Really?”

You don’t want to indulge him - you shouldn’t indulge him - but you do. “Every girl here has the hots for you. Maybe even some of the boys.”

Steve’s breath catches. “Every girl?”

You stare at him awkwardly. “Well - n… no, not every girl, but - enough.” You feel embarrassment creeping hotly through your veins. “Not - not me, if you’re thinking -”

“No, no,” he says, just as awkwardly as you. “No, I know that.” He smiles slightly.  “You hate me.”

A smile turns the corners of your lips. “Yeah. I hate you.”

“Right.”

“Right.”

A long and awkward silence ensues before he says, “Yeah - okay. I will see you tonight.”

===

Hours later, you saunter over to the counselor bonfire, located right off the shore of the lake. It’s a beautiful, clear night - a slight breeze rustles the trees and the fire licks the stars. You’re a bit late, and Steve’s nervous that you won’t show up. Despite this, he is literally surrounded by the female counselors, who are eagerly asking him about himself.

“Jesus Christ,” you mumble as you approach.

“Look who it is!” Josh shouts out as you near. “Y/N, we’ve been waiting for you.”

“You shouldn’t have,” you say dryly, entering the circle.

Steve pats the log beside him - he had saved you a seat. With all these girls surrounding him, he saved you a seat. He had to tell them, “hey, don’t sit there, it’s reserved,” while he waited for you to show up. It’s a sweet gesture, one that sends your heart beating a little too fast for your liking. You sit beside him, giving a tight lipped smile.

The girls all smile at you, as if it’s all some type of game. And you know why they’re so amused - you had dramatically cut them off each night when Steve would be brought up. You’d throw a pillow over your head and shout at them to just shut up already. They thought you weren’t immune to his charms, just as they weren't. You roll your eyes at them.

Josh hands you a piece of paper and a pencil. “We’re doing the burning ceremony in a few.”

You take the paper and pencil from him gently, sitting it on your lap. Beside you, Steve is clutching his paper tightly to his chest. You bite the inside of your cheek as you think about what to write down - you’d already metaphorically burned Steve last year. You simply write down my past with no elaboration, intending to feed everyone a fake story and then throw it into the fire.

Steve himself didn’t need to think very long about what to write down. His biggest regret was the way he had treated people. A nauseous jerk tugs at his stomach when he thinks about high school, when he thinks about Nancy and Jonathan, when he thinks about the mask he always hid behind. He’s reminded of it every single day here with you - memories that he can’t quite touch but that he knows are there. The feeling of guilt when he looks at you, at the way your brows furrow and eyes narrow at him. How, even now, the pleasantries hide behind past aggression.

He doesn’t blame you.

And maybe, perhaps, burning a piece of paper will make him feel better. It’s not much, but it’s more than he’s ever done.

You listen as everyone goes around and tells their story. Some talk about relationships, or mental health. Each story is met with support from the circle, almost like group therapy. When all comments are said, the paper is thrown in, and everyone claps and cheers as it burns. You can sense that Steve is getting more and more nervous as he gets closer to talking, and you wonder what’s on his paper.

When it’s your turn, you stand up. “I wrote down my past.” You clear your throat. “Uh - I’m not proud of who I used to be. I used to be so quiet and shy. But I’m happier now, and louder, and I’m not afraid of the space that I take up.”

Steve’s eyes burn a hole into your side as you tell your story. He remembers the girl you’re talking about. He remembers how quiet you were, always minding your own business. And his chest hurts when he realizes that he’s probably why you were that way.

It takes a lot of strength for you to not side-eye him.

Everyone tells you that they’re proud and you throw the paper into the fire, sitting back down and crossing your hands over your lap. There’s a tenseness between you and Steve, but no one realizes the connection.

Steve stands, his hands shaking. It takes him a second to find his voice.

“Um. Well, when I was younger - not younger, just a few years ago - I was a jerk.”

You tense up, staring intently into the fire.

“I was such a dick. I made the worst decisions and the worst friends. I used to follow the crowd, because I thought that’s what I had to do to make them like me.” He licks his lips and takes a deep breath. “And I knew it was wrong - I knew it was - but that’s not an excuse. I let it go on for too long, and I hurt a lot of people. And that really kills me each day.”

You squeeze your hands together.

“I’m trying so hard to not be that person anymore, and I’m glad that I’m not. I got away from those people and I found better friends. Friends who believe in me and like me for me.” He clears his throat and sniffles. “But I’m so worried that I’ll turn back into that person again. I know there are people who will always know me as that person, and that sucks.” His eyes land on the top of your head. “But not as much as it sucks for them, I’m sure.

“I’m just ashamed,” he continues. “I wish I could change what I did. I wish I could make everyone believe that I’m not that guy anymore. I wish I wasn’t so scared. Most of all, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Everyone’s silent. Steve asks, “Do - do I throw it in now?”

“No,” Josh says. “Uh - wow. I don’t even know where to start.”

Steve feels the shame creeping into his chest again and bows his head.

“First of all, man, you’re allowed to change. You can change, and it’s obvious that you did,” Josh says.

Steve looks up, shocked at the validation.

“Yeah,” Nico, Steve’s roommate, interjects. “Dude, you’re one of the nicest, goofiest people I’ve ever met.”

A few yeahs echo around the circle.

“And it’s a good sign that you regret what you’ve done,” another girl, Emily, says. “That shows growth.”

You sit tensely, feeling cold in front of the fire. You know he’s talking about you. And you know he means what he’s saying.

You interject a few moments later. “What matters is that you’re trying to change. That’s the best you can do.”

Steve looks down at you, brows furrowing, but it feels like a weight has lifted off of him, freeing him. Feels like his collar bones aren’t cracking under pressure. His eyes are soft and filled with tears - he wasn’t expecting any of this.

You swallow hard, feeling your own tears swelling in your eyes. “And I think that - I think that it’s obvious you aren’t like who you were before.”

Never in your life did you think you’d say that, and never in Steve’s life did he think he’d hear it.

A few people agree, reinforcing that it’s okay for him to be ashamed, but it’s okay for him to grow, too. It’s a bit much for Steve, who makes a strong effort to not burst out into sobs. You can’t meet his eyes yet, but when he sits down after throwing the paper in, you reach for his hand and squeeze it. It’s more than the truce at the breakfast table - it’s an understanding. It’s forgiveness. It’s comfort. It’s friendship. You decide to truly, finally swallow your past, let the flames do their job, and embrace the new Steve.

Your hand leaves after just a second, but he understands the message, and you both smile the rest of the night.

===

It’s Sunday night now, and you’re doing rounds. It’s a little after one in the morning. You check on every cabin to make sure kids are asleep and safe, then decide to sneak a dip in the lake. It was a cool night, but the water was calling. You approach the pier but stop when you see another body already sitting on the edge, shoulders slumped.

You can tell despite the distance that it’s Steve, and you can tell that something’s wrong.

You make your footsteps loud so he can hear you coming, and you take a seat on the wood beside him. The lake is bright from the moon, and it illuminates on Steve’s sullen face. “You okay?”

He nods softly. “I just wanted to take a walk,” he says, but his voice cracks.

You frown. “Is that all?”

He doesn’t answer for a long time, but you can see that his cheeks and eyes are red and swollen. Finally, he whispers, “I had a nightmare.”

Steve had awoken in a sweat, kicking his sheets off of him and gasping for breath. It was another dream about the Upside Down, and it hit him unexpectedly and hard. Nico had stood over his bed, worry etched onto his face, asking Steve if he was okay. Steve brushed it off and said he needed to go on a walk. When he slipped outside, he cried, hugging himself as he walked to the pier. It was the brightest spot at camp, the only place he felt safe. He had learned the lake like the back of his hand in three week’s time, had found a home in it, and he went there to pull himself together.

A nightmare was a bit of an understatement - it had felt so real. He went weeks without one, happily, assuming the distance from Hawkins was helping. It was disheartening to have one here. Embarrassing, too. He wonders if Dustin or any of the kids had been having them.

The anguish on his face and cheeks is apparent and you whisper, “Hey,” taking his hand and squeezing it again. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head numbly. He would like to talk about it, but knows he can’t. “Just a stupid dream.”

You frown. “It’s not stupid to feel scared.”

Steve sniffles. “I know.”

“But do you know?”

Steve stills, eyebrows knitting together again. “I… it’s hard to feel like it’s not stupid.”

You nod. “I know how you feel. Well, at least a bit.”

“Do you have nightmares?”

“No,” you whisper. Your thumb absentmindedly rubs over his. “But I have anxiety. And I know how it feels to think it’s stupid to feel that way.”

Steve nods. “I just kind of… push it down. I try not to bother people with it.”

“You’re not bothering people who love you for talking about it. Have you told Dustin?”

“Yeah, but… he’s got his own problems.”

You nod in understanding. After a few moments of silence, you say, “You can talk to me.”

He laughs solemnly. He wishes he could talk to someone about it. Someone outside of the people who were there, or outside of the shrinks that Doc Owens had recommended. Anyone with a new perspective. But he can’t, because the person he’d confide in would die, and he really doesn’t need that on his conscience. That’s not something you could burn in a fire and forget about.

“I’m serious,” you say. “I can help.”

Steve kicks his feet back and forth in the water for a few minutes. Then he looks over at you. “How do you stop being anxious?”

“You don’t,” you say, laughing. “It just gets easier to hide. But having friends helps, and loving yourself helps.”

“I don’t have either.”

You elbow his side gently. “You have friends, Steve. And I’ll be damned if you don’t like yourself by the time you leave here.”

He’s quiet again, then says, “It’s really hard for me to think of people as friends. It’s hard to think that people actually want to hang out with me. Tommy and Carol used me for money and an empty house.” He shrugs lazily. “The attention just feels so… superficial now.”

And it makes your heart ache, because maybe that’s why he won’t give in to the girls here. He thinks they don’t like him for him - they only like him for his looks. Even if he wants them to like him, if he wants someone to love, it’s hard to accept it. The realization ignites an odd anger in you; he doesn’t deserve to feel like this.

“Maybe,” you whisper. “But at least you’re aware of it, right?”

He nods and shrugs again. “I guess.”

More silence.

“Your speech on Friday…,” you say softly. “It meant a lot.”

“It didn’t have to -”

“But it did.”

He swallows and turns to face you. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” you say, rubbing his thumb again. “I forgive you.” You smile. “For real this time.”

He smiles, too. “Apparently, since you can’t stop holding my hand.”

You retract it quickly, holding it to your chest. You didn’t realize how long you’d been holding it, and you blushed deeply. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“You sure?” he grins. “Because someone told me every girl here likes me.”

You kick water towards him and he laughs, kicking back. You’re happy to see the light back in his eyes.

“So Kayak Ball, huh?”

“It’s the next big thing.” He seems proud of it.

You hum. “So I’ve heard.” You splash water towards him again. “You gonna teach me?”

Steve laughs incredulously. “You want to learn?”

“Yeah,” you smile, shrugging. “Maybe I can stop by tomorrow on my break.”

He smiles widely. “You’re gonna get your ass kicked.”

You push up and reach out for his hand, pulling him up with you. “Let me walk you back to your cabin, okay?”

“You don’t have to -”

“I don’t want you to get lost in the woods.”

You walk together in silence, but Steve feels comforted. Like maybe he could go back to sleep when he lays down instead of worrying about dying.

“Hey,” you say when you approach his cabin. “Um… Mia? She wanted me to put in a good word for her.”

“As in?”

“As in, you should sit with her at lunch.” You wink. “She’s one of those ‘every girls’ that likes you.”

His eyes widen and then he smiles, shaking his head. “You mean it?”

“No, it’s a prank.”

He laughs softly and shakes his head again. “Well, thanks for the tip.”

You smile and nod. When you turn to walk towards your cabin, you say, “Goodnight, Steve.”

He waves after you. “Goodnight.”

===

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[fictorium]

Hey sugar lips... you still taking prompts? #46

Sure am honey pie!

#46 “What happens if I do this?

Kara waited until Eliza had dozed off in front of a rerun of The Lion in Winter, Alex and Kelly having already retreated upstairs before the movie started. Their fake yawns had been so transparent that Kara had to smile. The house in Midvale was as still and peaceful as it ever had been, but for Kara it was just that little bit lonely too.

Stepping out on the porch she found her way to the old swing and settled in. She didn’t need the blanket for warmth, but reached for it anyway. From there she had a perfect view of the night sky, one expanding further and deeper than Eliza’s much-loved telescope, which sat waiting for its next search.

Kara watched the stars for a while, looking for patterns that she knew weren’t visible from this planet. Every so often she could convince herself the stars of Orion’s Belt had realigned to form constellations relating to Rao, but it was just a trick her mind liked to play on her.

“Kara?”

She hadn’t heard Eliza wake or come looking for her. Kara gave her a sheepish smile.

“Sorry I left before the movie ended. I just wanted some alone time I guess.”

Eliza came to sit beside her. “I’d say you’ve had a little too much of that lately. Alex told me about your… falling out with Lena. And I know James left, just like Winn did, and Mon-El before that.”

“People leave,” Kara said, dropping her head on Eliza’s shoulder. “Or they send you away. Sometimes you lose them and sometimes you find a way to get them back. I still have friends, good ones. And Alex, of course.”

“You don’t have to put on a brave front for me, Kara. It’s okay to miss someone. One special someone most of all. I know things haven’t been the same… since she sold CatCo. That was a big betrayal for you.”

“It wasn’t so bad. Andrea is difficult but—“

“Honey, I don’t mean that sale.”

“Oh. Oh. I didn’t… I mean I don’t… Ms Grant has probably forgotten all about me by now. Last I heard she was in Gotham. Or Metropolis. Either way, she’s busy.”

Eliza gave Kara a reassuring pat on the cheek. “You forget that I’ve seen you together. I’ve seen how you look at her, and not just that silly crush you had while she was on television. You didn’t see how she watched you as you gave that speech and saved everyone from Myriad. People don’t forget someone like that.”

Kara felt the tears welling up as they had so many times before. “Then why didn’t she come back? She said she wasn’t going anywhere and then she was gone.”

“I think,” Eliza replied, shrugging Kara from her shoulder and turning to face her fully. “I think that’s something you have to ask her. Do you know where she is right now? You could call. Or better yet…”

Without thinking, Kara closed her eyes and let her hearing roam. Within seconds she had traced that familiar heartbeat, just a little out of step with the ones around it. Cat Grant was always unique.

“She’s at her family home, in Metropolis. Weird, she doesn’t usually spend time with her mother out there.”

“Well I’m going to make some tea, and take that book you got me to bed. I won’t listen for you coming upstairs.”

“Eliza?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

Kara stood and watched her foster mother go inside. Before she could talk herself out of it, Kara raised herself up on tip toes and closed her eyes, feeling the night breeze whispering across her skin. It was barely nine in Metropolis. She could be there and back in minutes if she pushed it.

Decision made, Kara raised her arms like in the old prayers to Rao, and rocketed into the night sky.

The house was all but in darkness when Kara landed on the roof. She’d circled a few times before approaching, listening to Cat’s heartbeat vary as she moved from room to room, restless. Kara could have used her x-ray vision to see exactly what was happening, but it felt like too much of an intrusion. Instead she waited on the roof, knowing that Cat was a creature of habit, and eventually she always sought out higher ground.

Sure enough, twenty minutes later Cat walked through the room directly beneath Kara in the tall brownstone, and came out onto a small stone balcony that overlooked the slightly tangled gardens.

“If you’re one of the Bats or the Spiders, I’m not in the mood,” Cat said without looking round. “And I happen to know Superman is on bottle feed duty tonight, so I doubt he’s the one lurking on my roof.”

“Hey,” Kara said, dropping down beside Cat. She hadn’t bothered to change into her suit. There was no point pretending she hadn’t heard Cat calling her Supergirl last time they were together. “How did you know anyone was there?”

“My mother had an impressive security system. Courtesy of yours truly, of course. You wouldn’t believe how many two-bit villains thought going after her would bother me in some way.”

Cat hadn’t looked at her yet, so Kara took up the spot next to her, leaning on the balcony, propped up on her elbows to mirror Cat’s position. The only difference was that Cat was nursing a heavy crystal tumbler in her left hand, the liquid in it almost gone. Kara could smell the rich, peaty Scotch along with the fading notes of Cat’s perfume, something with a woody undertone that Kara hadn’t realized she missed quite so much. It was as comforting as the scent from her sheets on her bed at Eliza’s, but at the same time it sparked that low heat in Kara’s belly that she’d gotten so good at ignoring.

“You look good,” Kara said, not least because it had the benefit of being true. Cat had let her hair grow, and she was wearing it straighter. It made her look younger, not that Kara would ever say such a thing out loud; Cat Grant was stunning for any age. The black dress was pretty plain by Cat’s usual standards - no interesting geometry or leather panels anywhere that Kara could see.

Cat’s response was just a quirk of her lips, a smile that never quite made it all the way into being.

“Cat? I’ve never known you to ignore a compliment. Is everything okay? How’s Carter?”

“Fine, fine,” Cat replied, finishing her drink. “Well, mostly fine. He’s almost sixteen now, and things have been… difficult these past few months. But he was with me for all this, of course. Now he and Adam have gone to Opal City, so at least it’s nice to see them getting along.”

“All this?” Kara repeated.

“The funeral. I assume that’s why you’re here. You heard about my mother and came to make sure we salted the earth after we buried her.” Cat’s words were as disgruntled as ever on the topic of her mother, but Kara could tell her heart wasn’t in it. Even if they hadn’t gotten along, Cat had still lost her mom.

“I… didn’t know,” Kara had to admit. “I was at home, in Midvale, and I realized… well, it doesn’t matter now. Are you okay? Is there anything I can do to help?”

Cat shook her head. “Not even Supergirl has power over death. I see you’ve taken to flying in civilian clothes. Risky.”

“I flew high, and it’s cloudy.”

“Still. I worry about you, Kara. Not about you losing a fight, or coming across a scary new alien. I worry about you being exposed, about you losing the things that make you… like this.”

“Your mom died and you’re worrying about me losing my privacy?” Kara didn’t understand, even though she was one of the few people who’d really seen the depth of Cat’s compassion and empathy. “You’re right, though. It’s been close a few times. The new administration wanted to know everything, wanted to take away everything that lets me feel normal. I’m used to it by now.”

“I threatened you, before. With exposing everything.”

Kara nodded. She had forgiven Cat a lot of things, but they weren’t all forgotten. “You were trying to win an argument. It’s like Monopoly, you don’t necessarily play by the rules. I trust you now, for what it’s worth. Or I wouldn’t have flown here in leggings and a sweater.”

“Yes. Just as well there’s no dress code,” Cat replied with a pointed sweep of Kara’s clothing. “Though the thought of my mother’s face, seeing you dressed like that… you’ve brought a little light into my day as always, Kara.”

Although she was clearly attempting her usual dry humor, Cat’s mouth crumpled just a little around the words. Kara didn’t even think before pulling Cat into a full-body hug that felt better than anything had in a really long time. It didn’t take long for the shoulder area to become damp with Cat’s tears.

“We can go inside?” Kara suggested when Cat finally settled in her careful embrace, her right hand clutching the soft material of Kara’s top just above her heart. The same heart that was beating twice as fast as normal.

“No. Everything in there is her. It’s suffocating, even now.”

“Where would you like to go?”

“Surprise me,” Cat said.

Kara considered for a moment, looking out over the semi-familiar Metropolis skyline. “I could have ended up here, you know. If my cousin had taken me in.”

“No, you ended up exactly where you were supposed to. In Middlebottom--”

“Midvale.”

“Right, Midvale,” Cat continued without any hint of embarrassment. “And then in National City, with me.”

Kara didn’t have the words to reply to that, not yet, and so she pulled Cat close and shot them both across the city to a far less fancy district: the still-bustling streets of downtown. They alighted on the giant piece of metal atop the Daily Planet building, and Kara sat Cat carefully on the flattest part so they could sit together comfortably.

“Ta da?” Kara tried, smiling at Cat with all the affection that was threatening to pour out of her. “I put you on top of the world.”

“Perry White would be furious!” Cat kicked her legs up with something like glee. “Oh, he was always forbidding employees to come up to the roof. This is perfect. Wait,” she added, taking out her phone and snapping a selfie with her location quite obvious to anyone with half a clue. “I’ll send that to him later.”

“I’m glad I could give you something nice,” Kara said, offering her arm to wrap around Cat and being silently thrilled when Cat nestled into her side without any more prompting. “You deserve nice things, Cat.”

“Even though I left you? That’s the part you keep not saying.” Cat didn’t look up at Kara to see her point land, they both knew it had.

“You did. But I came after you, eventually. Isn’t that what people do? Go after what they want?”

“Kara--”

“Of course, I didn’t know about all this with your mom. So I can wait. I can put this all on hold and be a friend to you. I’m happy to do it.”

“Everything is up in the air,” Cat said, gesturing at the giant drop below them. “Quite literally right now. I don’t know what happens next, so I can’t promise you anything.”

“What happens if I do this?” Kara asked, summoning every last scrap of her courage into one finger, using it to gently touch Cat’s chin and tilt her face up toward Kara’s. Cat’s expression had softened, her lips were as soft and inviting as ever, and as soon as Kara realized all of that, she was a lost cause. She kissed Cat with sweetness and forgiveness, and a promise of comfort and more.

“Oh.” Cat still had her eyes closed when the tender kiss ended. “That was everything I hoped. But Kara, I don’t know if I can just come back, if I can find a life that makes room for all this.”

“You can. We will. However it has to be, I think we can make it work, Cat. But it’s better to try and fail than never take a chance in the first place.”

“Someone very wise must have taught you that.”

“You did.”

“Like I said.” Cat cupped Kara’s cheek with her hand, running her thumb over the cheekbone with exquisite care. “I’m tired of fighting this, Kara. I ran halfway around the world to escape my feelings for you, and they haven’t gone anywhere. Maybe all I cost us was time.”

“We still have lots of that,” Kara answered. “More than enough, I promise.”

“Will you come back with me? To the house? I can’t bear being alone in there.”

“Of course,” Kara said. “Now?”

“Not yet,” Cat replied, leaning back into Kara’s side. “Let’s stay on top of the world a little longer.”

Kara held her close, content to do exactly that.

[onedoesnotsimplywriteafanfic]

Reunited at last (5/6)

Part: 1, 2, 3, 4

After exploring the old ruins that was were streets. It was a long lost dream to find this place and here I was. I wasn’t suppose be there on the hill of the mountain, but I was. Rafe had yet another meeting with Nadine and her men and he didn’t want me their, with the excuse it was way to boring for me and I could use that time exploring the building. So that was what I did. I explored and figured it all out.

Walking trough history, thats how it felt. Everything was just like it had been left behind after what looked like a huge fight, some could call it a war. Bodies where spread over the clearing, canons, weapons and barricades could be found.  It was unclear who’s battle it was and what they where fighting for.

Making my way inside the bloodshed had continued, who ever the battle was between had made their way inside.  Big golden looking doors, three times bigger than that I was, kept me from entering, what I only believed to be, the treasure room. A lever on my left was my way in. I pulled it towards me and a heavy mechanism could be heard starting to work.

Only it was for a little while before it stopped, doors still closed. With a groan I walked over to the door and pushed it with all my wight. It took a lot of effort but I manged to open the doors by force. My believes where right, this room used to be a treasure or trophy room, only this one was empty.

It was hard to imagine what had taken place hundred years ago but I had my ideas. By the looks of the state this room was left in, Avery had already taking his treasure elsewhere. Along the walls almost life sized paintings hung portraying the pirates. Avery, Tew all the founders of Libertalia.

They were all marked with the word ‘’Thief’’ meaning the treasure was already gone by the time the citizens had fought their ways in. Looking around the room for further clues I found the last peace of the puzzle. It was so small most would have missed it, but not me.

A map was painted on the sealing, it was barely visible because most of the roof was missing. But it was there. It showed a small town named ‘’New Devon’’ inhabited by seven large mansions. One for each pirate of Avery’s crew.

Smiling to myself, proud of my findings, I found myself calling for Nate. ‘’Nate, I figur,-’’ I cut my self off mid sentence, realizing Nate wasn’t here. In that moment of happiness I longed for my best friend. I should have been here with them, with Nate and my father.

Gunshots pulled me back to reality. It sounded far away but not the less it caught my attention. In a haze I looked for a way out. It took me way more time then I had anticipated and by the time I found a way outside the sound of a gun fight had stopped.

Now standing on top of a watch tower I looked around in the hope to locate the source of the fight. But what I found was more disturbing. Shoreline men filled my few, weapons drawn. Panic filled my body and the only thing on my mind was that I needed to get the hell out of here.

Making my way down was difficult because the tower was about to collapse. Running as fast as my legs could carry me I made my way down. Just before the tower collapsed I jumped to the roof of a nearby building.

My body wasn’t used to these kinds of shenanigans any more, so the safest way was the ground. No more jumping buildings. More shots filled the air and sometimes I needed to duck to prevend myself from getting shot.

In the distance I saw Rafe running inside a gave with some of the Shoreline soldiers. I followed him and waited till I got close to make my presence known. I ran out to a small clearing leading to a ravine. ‘’Rafe!’’ I called out. All eyes where now on me and so were most of there guns. ‘’Rafe?’’ I called out again, this time with my hands in the air.

Looking around the group I saw Nate and Nadine who was held captive by someone I couldn't see its face of. The man holding Nadine shifted slightly in its place making it able for me to see his face. My eyes grew bigger from confusion. ‘’Sam?’’ My voice was shaking, my mind making over hours. ‘’I told you to stay away.’’ Rafe spatted at me. A low growl could be heard leaving Sams throat.

Snapping my attention to Rafe I spat back at him. ‘’Excuse me?’’ I was still being hold at gun point but I ignored them. With anger in his eyes Rafe took a step towards me. Trying to hold my ground I stayed put. Locking my eyes with his I looked for answers. ‘’You knew, didn’t you.’’ I asked bluntly not giving him time to talk. ‘’You knew, all this time he was alive?!’’ I felt a white rage burning in my stomach and my anger got the best of me.  

Waiting for him to confirm my theory I kept my eyes locked on his. ‘’Of course, who else did you thought broke him out for a second time.’’ Without thinking I swing my arm back and connected it with his jaw. Through the force of the impact Rafe stumbled back. By only one sign, one of the Shoreline soldiers grabbed me and put his gun to my temple.  

The safety of a gun being pulled back could be heard, coming from Sam, still holding Nadine. ‘’Let her go Sam, or she dies.’’ pointing at me Rafe kept his vision at Sam. ‘’No.’’ Sam said trough gridded teeth. ‘’Don’t make me ask again, sam.’’ A threatening hint was visible in his voice.

Nate who kept watching until now made a move no one expected. It all happened in a second. Nate moved towards his brother and unarmed him so Nadine could step free. ‘’Now let her go, Rafe.’’ Nate said trowing the gun away. ‘’I can’t quite do that yet, Nathen. I still need her.’’ Anger kept boiling up inside of me.

I lowered my head towards my chest before I yanked it back, making contact with the nose of my captor. He let me go to grab his now bloody now. Kicking the gun out of his hand sending it flying. ‘’I am done helping you, Rafe.’’ I spat my words out, filled with poison.  

A cynical laugh left his lips. ‘’I don’t think so princess. You and your not so dead boyfriend over there are going to lead me to Avery’s treasure.’’ With his pistol raised at Sam, he shot daggers at me. ‘’To bad I don’t know where it is.’’ I lied, shrugging my shoulders nonchalantly.

He wasn’t to happy with my answer. ‘’Then you better figure it out, fast, or els.’’ He threatened me. ‘’Please, I am sure we can figure something out, make a deal, find it together.’’ it was Nate he broke the silence. ‘’There is nothing to figure out. I only need one or two of you.’’ His gun shifted from Sam to Nate. ‘’No!’’ Sam and I yelled in unison. But it was to late, Rafe had pulled the trigger.

Sam jumped in front of Nate to take the bullet but it hit him in the shoulder. It was a trough and trough and it launched itself in Nate, who fell backwards to the edge, eventually falling over leaping to his faith.

The build up anger that i’ve been collecting inside bursted, I launched myself towards Rafe. One of the Shoreline men grabbed me but without luck. In a second I had disarmed him and held him under gunpoint with his own gun. ‘’Tell your men to stand down and no one gets hurt.’’ I threw a quick glance at Rafe. ‘’And who is going to hurt them, you?’’ wrong answer.

Pulling the safety back and pulled the trigger I shot the man in his back. Dead. ‘’Yes, me.’’ with an empty look in my eyes I looked at Rafe. Sam watched me from his position on the ground. An amused and proud look spread across his lips.

A vein on Rafe’s forehead was about to burst so much anger was he carrying. ‘’Maybe I only need one of you.’’ Rafe said coldly and pulled the trigger. The bulled embedded itself in my torso, falling to the ground immediately. Faintly in the distance I could hear Sam’s voice but I couldn’t figure out what he was saying.

One by one Rafe and his people left the cliff, dragging Sam with them. Leaving me to die. But one thing Rafe forgot, he doesn’t get rid of me that easily. What felt like hours I woke up.  My body felt stiff and everything hurts.

Weakly I made my way trough the cave to the shore. My last hope for survive was my dad. He owned this ridiculous old aircraft that could land on water.

Nearing the shore I saw the outlines of the aircraft, with the last strength I had in me I screamed for my dad. ‘’DAD!’’ limping closer to the water I tried again. ‘’Dad!’’ I hadn’t much strength in me left, but it was just enough for him to hear me.

For a second time I lost conscious. The next time I woke up I laid in the plain all patched up. ‘’Dad?’’ I asked silently, slightly in panic. ‘’I am here, doll.’’ I heard my father say over the sound of the plain. ‘’We are getting Nate and Elena at the north side of the island.’’ By hearing Nate’s name I shot up from my laying position. ‘’He is alive?!’’ I could barely believe it.

A tension filled the air followed by a deafening silence until I broke it. ‘’I know about Sam.’’ My dad looked at me quickly over his shoulder. ‘’Sweetheart, I am so,’’ he started but I stopped him. ‘’I understand Dad. You did it to protect me and because the whole thing with Rafe.’’

The flight was short, we landed near the shore and waited for Nate and Elena. Loud explosion could be heard in the distance. Getting closer and closer by the second. An armored car seemed to be chasing something or someone.

In horror I saw who the car was chasing, Nate. ‘’Dad, it’s Nate!’’ But my dad was already on the case and shot an RPG at the car, making it stuck on a wall. ‘’Trow me the RPG!’’ Nate yelled and my father did what he asked.

We helped Nate up de wall after the car was taken care of. Without giving him time to react I embraced him tightly. ‘’I thought you were dead.’’ I breathed in his chest, slightly crying. ‘’Me too.’’ He whispered back. 

After breaking apart I looked for Elena. ‘’Where is Elena?’’ and right after the words left my mouth she came running towards us. ‘’Hey.’’ She said before embracing each other. ‘’Hey.’’ he said back. ‘’How are you doing?’’ My father asked. ‘’Im doing good, some close calls but,’’ She stepped away from us to look at the ruins. ‘’He covered me.’’ And walking out of the ruins came Sam.

Part 6 

Masterlist

[ghostofviperwrites]

Suzuki Gunz Crime Family - Chapter 17

Warnings:  kidnapping, explicit language, criminal activity

CHAPTER 17

One Year Later

May 19, 2004

Cigar in hand Minoru sat alone in his office, his attention focused on the TV against the wall listening to the nightly news report.  For the past three weeks it had been mostly the same, nearly nonstop coverage of the ongoing gang war between Chaos and Bullet Club.  Bodies were discovered on the daily, raucous fights breaking out in the streets, creating near riot like conditions.   As Naito had predicted the two factions were doing an excellent job of destroying each other, and Suzuki Gun was picking up the pieces with little effort on their part.  With the turf war between Chaos and Bullet Club in full swing, the police were too occupied to pay much mind to Suzuki Gun allowing them to cement their foothold even stronger within the cities. 

Things were finally settling down within the family, the kobun of Suzuki Gun returning to their own homes and falling back into their regular routines. Desperado was the proud father of a healthy baby boy named Hayuto who was almost four months old, while Bushi had recently announced that he and Chie were expecting a baby girl in the fall. 

True to their word, the Ingobernables had faded into the background wanting no part of the daily runnings of the Suzuki Gun family, content to run their business dealings from the shadows.  Their interactions were limited to family dinners and occasional transactions.   All in all things were progressing quite nicely as far as Minoru was concerned.  

Taking a deep puff from his cigar, Minoru blew a plume of smoke towards the ceiling allowing a small smile to grace his lips.  Soon it would be time to strike, eliminate two rivals at the same time and secure their places as the top crime family in Japan.  With their shipments of guns having been delivered and training completed Minoru was confident they were ready. 

A picture of Kazuchika Okada on the screen captured Minoru’s full attention and he reached for the remote, turning up the volume to catch the story that only served to decrease the minimal respect he had for the man.  Okada had fled the country at the start of the war, rumors swirling he had absconded to Sweden or the Netherlends and was still missing.  When he had fled, Okada abandoned his sister, leaving her vulnerable.  Every account Minoru had heard about Okada told how close he was to his sister.  How protective he was and how well guarded she was every second of the day.  With disgust Minoru turned off the TV.  If he were so close to his sister or even his mother, he would never leave them unprotected.  How could Okada flee, leaving behind the one person he seemed to care the most about?  It would prove to be a costly mistake for Okada.  Minoru had no intentions of letting such a valuable asset remain untouched. 

Stubbing out his cigar Minoru leaned back in his chair, his mind working over the possible ways to use this information to his advantage.   Despite the family being in shambles, their forces decimated and the empire crumbling, the Okada name still carried a lot of weight. 

The phone on his desk jangled loudly, pulling Minoru’s attention from his introspections. 

“Yes?”  Minoru answered.

“I’ve got it.”  Taka’s excited voice burst through the phone.  “I finally found what we were looking for.”  

“That’s my boy!”  Minoru exclaimed in a rare burst of genuine emotion, a grin lifting his lips as he slammed his fist on his desk.   “Tomorrow?” 

“Tomorrow.”  Taka confirmed before hanging up.  For the past year Taka had been using every avenue at his disposal to locate Okada’s sister for Minoru, and he finally had her location. 

Glancing at the clock, Minoru rushed from the office realizing he was running behind for his date.  Entering his bedroom he threw off the track suit he had been wearing and jumped into the shower for a quick wash down.   It had been a long time since he had taken the time to have an actual date, more often than not he slaked his lust with strippers from the club, but as he had so frankly told Taka, you don’t love strippers, you fuck them.   Despite his cold demeanor and rather skewed view of love and relationships Minoru would admit to loneliness at times. Especially since the boys had gone back to their homes, leaving him alone in this big empty house with only the servants to keep him company.  Minoru was a pragmatic man, he knew he wasn’t going to marry for love.  In his line of work marriage was used for benefit not love.  That didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the company of some lovely ladies on the side.

Dressing in a crisp gray suit with a slate blue tie, Minoru checked his reflection one last time before heading down to the waiting town car that would take him to pick up his companion for the evening, Umeko.  He had run into Umeko by chance exiting a business dinner as she was leaving with her family.   A quick introduction and in minutes he had secured a date.  

A new excitement filled Minoru as he slid into the car.  Sinking into the seats his mind raced through the possibilities of the future, and he couldn’t wait until the family dinner tomorrow night.  Once every few months the Ingos and the Guns got together for a family dinner, an attempt at continuing to strengthen their bonds.  Aside from that interaction, the families were pretty much separate from each other.   As Minoru had assured his family from the start of this partnership the Ingos had no interest in being involved in the Guns business.  If the need arose either family would be at the other’s side in a heartbeat, but that was the extent of their affiliation.   Finally, after months of feeling useless, like the Guns were falling short in providing benefit to the Ingos, he had something to bring to the table. The problem was he wasn’t quite sure the reception their little discovery would receive. 

As the car pulled up in front of Umeko’s town home Minoru pushed thoughts of business out of his head.  He was going to enjoy tonight and take what tomorrow brought as it came.

Greeting her with a kiss on the cheek Minoru lead Umeko to the car with a soft hand on her waist, settling her in before sliding onto the supple leather seat beside his date.   As they drove through the city streets Minoru kept up a steady stream of conversation, asking questions about Umeko’s family and interests, skillfully keeping the conversation focused on her and away from him.  

Minoru was going to enjoy this evening out.  If Taka’s information brought to fruition what Minoru had planned, it would be a long time before he would be able to have a night out without looking over his shoulder.  At least until Kazuchika Okada was dealt with once and for all. 

The following evening, nothing could dampen Minoru’s spirits.  His date with Umeko had gone swimmingly, and they had plans to see each other later in the week; Chie seemed to have accepted her place at Bushi’s side and was glowing from within with the tiny bump protruding from her waist as everyone showered the couple with congratulations.  El Desperado and Kyo were watching baby Hayuto with wide grins as Hiromu lay on the baby blanket with him and tried to show the little one how to crawl.  An indulgent smile was on Minoru’s face as he glanced around the room at the family he had chosen. Yes the Ingos may not have been a part of his plans, but nevertheless he was glad they had come together. 

At the end of the table Taka was practically bouncing in his seat, eager to impart with his surprise.  Minoru would have to take care not to make the younger man wait too long.  He may not survive through dinner having to keep such a secret. 

Slowly everyone made their way to their seats, digging into the delicious food served by Minoru’s staff and enjoying the flowing alcohol with boisterous conversations abounding.   It was only when after dessert when the women and children exited the room that business was opened, everyone moving to the main table for their discussions. 

Though he knew Taka was dying to spill, Minoru simply shook his head in denial and silent order for the other man to wait.  Instead he gave the floor to Naito, curious as to what his counterpart had to say.  Though if the Ingos beat them to the punch again Minoru wasn’t promising that blood wouldn’t be spilled.  Bastards seemed to be one step ahead of him all the time. 

“In the past we’ve discussed potentially furthering our families’ relationships with additional marriages between our members.”  Naito opened hiding his signature smirk as he noted the nervous looks on the Guns’ faces.  As much as his nature made him want to drag this out, he was in a generous mood so he was going to get to the point quickly.   “However, given the current status, and our bonds being strengthened through other familial ties, the Ingobernables no longer feel that is necessary.  What say you Guns?”

Minoru pursed his lips, glancing around at his kobun to gauge their reaction before responding.   He had every intention of agreeing, as this move from the Ingobernables fit perfectly with his future plans; however, he wouldn’t concur without his kobun’s agreement. 

“I believe we are in concurrence.  Our familial bonds are strong between our families.”   Minoru agreed raising his glass in a half salute in Naito’s direction before taking a long sip of the sweet liquid.  “And I believe this serves as a nice segue for Taka who has some pertinent information to share.”

With a grin Taka bounded to his feet, nearly upsetting the glasses around him when he bumped the table in his haste.

“Sorry, sorry.”  He mumbled at Iizuka and Lance as they steadied their cups.

“So you all know that I’ve been trying to keep tabs on Okada’s whereabouts for the past year.”  Taka began with nods around the table encouraging him.  “Then we found out Minako Okada was still in Tokyo.  At first we thought the rumors of Okada’s affection for her were misplaced given he all but abandoned her.  But over the past several months it has become clear that just because he left her, did not mean he left her unprotected.  Minako was hidden away with only his most trusted advisors.  Hidden in plain sight if you will.  No one has seen or heard from Minako since the day Okada left Japan.  There was speculation that she had in fact travelled with him, but after much research, with the assistance of Bushi.”  Taka nodded respectfully at the masked man in appreciation of his guidance.  Bushi smirked and dipped his chin in acknowledgement.   The two scavengers had developed quite a close relationship over the past year, growing from their passions for information gathering.  Bushi had taken Taka under his wing and shown him some of his tricks of the trade.  

“Finally we got a lead and were able to start tracking down likely hiding spots of Minako and I’m pleased to say we finally located her.” 

Despite their best efforts to look unimpressed Minoru noted the surprised reactions of the Ingobernables around the table as Taka imparted this news.  Both families had been actively searching for Minako and to have finally bested the Ingobernables at something put a genuine smile on Minoru’s face. 

“Where the hell is she then?”  Shingo Takagi spoke up, his loud voice booming through the silent room.  

With a grin Taka hurried from the room, disappearing as the attention of everyone in the room focused on the side door he had darted through.  Though it was only seconds later it felt like an entirety as they waited anxiously, scared to believe, but hinging on hope for what they thought was going to happen.   Even Minoru was on the edge of his seat.  He knew Taka had found her, but he had never expected this. 

A beaming Taka reappeared, his hand gripping tightly on the biceps of a beautiful young woman who was trembling with tears streaking down her full cheeks.  

“May I present Minako Okada.”  

As one Minoru and Naito rose and approached Taka, carefully examining his captive as if she was animal in a zoo.  It was immediately apparent she was Okada’s sister, the family resemblance too strong to ignore.  

“Very well done Taka.” Naito said acknowledging Taka’s accomplishment with a slight bow of respect. 

Eventually the men returned to their seats, excited conversations erupting around the table as they discussed what this meant for the ongoing faction wars and the best way to use this information.   Only Naito remained silent, mulling over Minoru’s earlier words as they were sticking in his head, telling him he was missing something.

“Minoru.”  Naito spoke abruptly, the conversations in the room coming to a halt as he spoke up.  “Forgive me if I’m being obtuse, but I fail to see how Minako’s appearance was a segue from our familial relations?”

Naito trailed off, leaving the question open ended as he stared at Minoru who simply bared his teeth in a predator’s smile.

“Simply dear Naito.  I intend to marry the girl.”   

[reyesmp4]

My crackhead dissertation about QOTS S4, hidden connections, and the return of James Valdez!

I want to start out by saying these are all THEORIES. Mostly from my crackhead brain, but there are a few things that MAY actually tie my theories together. They are mainly fueled by my love for James Valdez and my unwillingness to believe that the writers, producers and cast would be stupid enough to really write him off the show. (the only time I accept that is when its the actors wishes. And if it was Peter's wish, I would respect that.) But in this case, I don’t think that’s what is happening here. I also want to mention here that when it comes to flashforward scenes in Queen Of The South, I don’t buy into them and I don’t believe they are actually real.I believe they are metaphorical warning rather than an actual depiction of teresa in the future. Thats my personal opinion/theories. With that being said,  ALL OF THIS is just that, my opinion. 

First of all, I know a lot of people (myself fucking included) are nervous that there WONT be a return of James Valdez. But please, don’t worry until we know something concrete. 

I know a lot of people have seen that NOTHING has been posted on social media about James. Not by the cast, not by peter, nothing. But we have to remember It is really  common nowadays, in the age of social media, for networks and producers to place a gag order on actors/cast/crew about the return and fate of certain characters. 

So first of all, the main reason I firmly believe there WILL be a return of James Valdez, is because of the way season 3 ended. I wholeheartedly believe that it wouldn’t have ended that way, had there not been a REASON. For the most part, as for  storylines QOTS has been extremely cohesive and able to have twists and turns, along with callback to previous seasons /relationships etc. If they were planning to kill off James, they would have left it at their goodbye scene in 3x13. But instead they showed an incredibly powerful scene of James, a soldier and sicario, giving up his gun for the person he loves and will die to protect. If they didn’t plan to incorporate that entire storyline back into the following season(s), it would not only be uncharacteristic of our QOTS writers who are notoriously cohesive when it comes to storylines, but it would also be incredibly STUPiD. There was no reason to add that James/Devon scene if they weren’t going to call back to it at some point. It was a huge, super poignant scene and I believe that it was put there for a reason. (though it does sometimes happen, lookin @ you ‘The Magicians’!) 

So quite a few of my theories lie in episode 3x05, so I will be calling back to it a LOT. Get used to it. Don’t @ me. 

3x05 truly solidified the trust between James and Teresa. In the beginning of the episode, they were sitting together cheersing their business while teresa looks at planes. Teresa says,

 “Now if they come for me, ill be ready.”  

James looks at her earnestly and says, “If they come for you, I’ll  be ready.” (Implying he’d die before letting “them” get to her). 

Later in the episode, when they learn that Kellyanne is being held hostage by Devon, Teresa instructs James to stay in the car, knowing that if he were to go in there, he would be killed on the spot because he hurt Devon’s business. She tells him to go to ‘la commission’ for help. Instead of listening to her and staying in the car, when he sees things go south, he walks in there himself and which basically translates to “Take me instead”. After agreeing to leave with Devon, James asks to tell teresa himself that he’s leaving. He informs her that She and Kellyanne are free to go, and that Devon will back off her business. Teresa asks what Devon gets in return, what the catch is, and the answer is James. To which teresa immediately says, uh “No”. 

Devon asks Teresa, “Are you willing to sacrifice everything, including your life, for this man?”

To which she easily answers, Yes. Devon forces James to tell Teresa what REALLY happened in Texas, and asks if she still wants to put her life on the line for him. She answers “take him” (and you can visibly see James heart break). But she quickly tells James that she isn't going to let them take him, and that she was just buying time, and grabs the guns stored close by. James looks panicked, knowing that if they try and shoot their way out, they'd both end up dead. He tells her “We’re outnumbered, we’ll never make it.” And she answers simply, “Then, we don’t make it.” Showing that she is willing to go down swinging and die right along side him. 

This interaction solidifies their trust in one another and shows how deep their feelings for one another go. 

First theory- Devon has ties (possibly family ties) to New Orleans/Dumas 

So we learn in 3x05, that Devon works with his family when it comes to his less than legal activities. While Devon is a CIA agent, his family (I believe) are civilians. His sister often acts as his enforcer. 

Now, in 3x05 when Devon and Teresa have  “dinner” together, devon steps away to take a call. Teresa observes her surroundings, taking in devons crew- who are speaking what seems to be hatian or some type of creole. Teresa looks at ‘The Professor’,  Devon's sister, and asks “Are you Hatian”, to which his sister gives a weird look, asking Teresa what she said. She repeats herself, and says “Are you hatian? You sound hatian.” Teresa gets a “mind your damn business” type answer. But my point is that Teresa very OBVIOUSLY pointed out that she appears to be speaking hatian or some type of creole. 

Now, in 4x04, Marcel Dumas sends his men to raid Teresa's factory. They shoot up the place, but before they go- they leave behind a voodoo doll. Now you don’t need to know much about New Orleans to know that there is a strong afro-french/hatian influence there. Creole and Voodoo often go hand in hand. The use of hatian/creole along with the voodoo doll, lead me to believe that there is some sort of connection between Devon and New Orleans. I believe, especially given what happened in 4x04, that the war with Marcel is going to BLOW UP. Possibly bringing either Devon (if he has ties to marcel or to NOLA) or possibly Castel into the picture, and that is how teresa and the team may learn that James didn’t leave on his own volition, but instead did it in order to protect Teresa. 

Back to 3x05 for a minute, as I was saying earlier when they looked into Devon’s sister, because she was a civilian she had an internet presence, and they were able to find out where their mother was located and used her as collateral against the siblings. Lil tay, who was the one to go and threaten devon's mother. When she's sitting in the church, she talks about how she was impressed that the van she was driving could hit over 150mph on the highway. Telling me that she wasn’t just kickin it around phoenix, she had to have traveled a pretty long distance. Because we don’t know how long this whole sequence took it is *plausible* that his mother was located in louisiana/new orleans as well (it would have taken 6-8 hours traveling at 150mph). The song that the church choir was singing “Wade in  the Water” also has strong ties to the black community, which I think is important to point out as well. 

I don’t know if this is planned, if these certain points were added as fillers or if they really are important and will tie together all of these strings, while paving the way for James to come home.

The Devon and Castel Connection 

Now we know that in 3x13, in the scene with James and Devon, they talk about how Devon killed El Santo to take out the competition for the columbians. Devon tells James that Castel is a “friend of the  agency” meaning basically that they’re in bed together on whatever operation Devon is running (legitimate or not). We already saw that in 4x01, Teresa pledges allegiance and loyalty to Castel, who showed up in new orleans. 

So the fact that James went with devon, whether he’s working for him to pay his dues or if he’s more being held captive, I honestly have no idea. I DO believe based on the title of 4x13 ‘They will come for you.’ is a callback to Teresa and James’ conversation in the beginning of 3x05 (where he says, “if they come for you, I’ll be ready) . So I don’t know if they will rescue James or if James will end up rescuing her but I am praying that there is an OBVIOUS connection there for a reason. ( thank you for your later episode theories, I AGREE! @mymostimaginaryfriend )

But the fact that Devon and Castel are in bed together ALONE tells me they are going to be calling back to that at some point, especially with Teresa pledging allegiance to Castel/the columbians. That is probably enough of a connection for Teresa to end up finding out what REALLY happened with James. (I still believe in the Devon/ New Orleans theory though.) 

So where does James come in? Honestly I dont know yet. I do strongly believe he will be back. He wouldn’t put his life on the line to protect teresa without them calling back to that storyline, honestly. It would be really dumb for them not to. 

@folie-lex  pointed out that James is almost always seen as an equal to Teresa. For just being a sicario, he is able to call her out on her bullshit and point out how they should maybe look differently at the situation. That's an important power dynamic, and that is something that  is so far EXTREMELY lacking in season four not just between Teresa and James but for the entire team. James would have NEVER pulled what Javier did in 4x03/4x04. Never. The current team that she is working with, she has no one to use as a sounding board when it comes to the *hard* decisions. She doesn’t have that same rapport she had with James with any of them.  No, not even pote. 

While teresa can rely on Pote, to do what he is told when he’s told. Pote is a loyal soldier, but James was able to both follow orders but also turn around and challenge Teresa in a way no one else ever has. In a way that helps her keep hold of her humanity. 

If you've watched the current episodes, especially 4x04, then you know that it is a SHIT SHOW. Everything is falling apart, Javier has not only killed one of Judge Layfayettes lackeys, but in addition to doing that and then disappearing, he also got Marcel Dumas nephew KILLED, essentially triggering a gang war. Dumas will be out for blood after he learns that his nephew has been killed. 

Had James been around he would have seen this coming for MILES. He would have been there as a sounding board for Teresa, as someone to clean up the mess, but he also would have kept everyone in line. 

I understand that the network, showrunners, and writers think that action and chaos sells, but we are a rather small fanbase. Small, but loyal. For them to decide to squash our loyalty, knowing that James well loved and fan favorite, would be a (as i said previously) STUPID, and possible fatal mistake. I truly believe that they haven’t made that mistake yet, but if they were to make a permanent decision to write james off, they could be digging their own cancellation graves. 

This isn’t a background, small time character. This is James Valdez. He’s been here since DAY ONE and gave an extremely vital structure to the show and added greatly to the dynamic between characters and the team. There is a visible, palpable James sized hole in this season and I hope it’s there to prove a point in how much he is needed, rather than to squander a well loved and respected series regular. 

James Valdez has a big, protective heart, and is willing to die trying to protect the ones he loves, his family. Lets try to have some faith that this is all for a reason and that james is going to get the storyline and love he really deserves.

[psycho-slytherin]

Prompt idea? Tae has an incredible amount of rings,like qn entire cabinet just dedicated to random rings. One day he goes in looking for a particular ring to wear only to notice a bunch are missing. He calls for you,just wondering if you know anything,only to find you in the bathtub with a dozen or so rings on each hand giggling and watching them shine in the light.

Rings

WC: 1.2k

Genre: Fluff, sibling!au

A/n: Sorry this took so long! Hope you enjoy :)

Taehyung’s jewelry drawer has always been off limits. You loved teasing him, saying it was probably where he stashed sex toys and dirty magazines. He’s never really cared what you say, so long as you don’t go through his things.

You’ve respected his wishes– for the most part. Still, you’re his twin sister, and it’s got to be within your rights to at least borrow something, right?

“Tae?” You swing open his door. It’s Saturday afternoon and you’ve got places to be. Your twin brother, of course, is still in his pajamas.

“Y/n!” He scrambles off his bed. “What have I told you about knocking?”

“Sor-ry.” You roll your eyes, rapping your knuckles against his open door. “Can I come in?”

Tae sighs dramatically. “What do you want?”

“Can’t I just come in to spend time with my favorite twin?” You sing, batting your eyelashes.

“I know you too well, dumbass. Do you want to steal my stuff again?”

“Not steal– just borrow.” You clasp your hands together. “I’m going to a party tonight and I’m wearing that top that Somi gave me... can I use your ring, the gold and blue one? It would go perfectly with my outfit.”

Taehyung pauses before nodding begrudgingly. “Top drawer, fourth one from the left in the second row. Don’t take any other rings, got it?”

You salute. “Yessir!”

Under Taehyung’s watchful gaze, you open his ring drawer. “Woah...” It’s as though you’ve found El Dorado, with countless glittering accessories lining the space. You locate the blue and gold ring and slip it on your finger, closing the drawer carefully. Your brother has expensive tastes, but he makes it work so well.

Several hours later, Taehyung has gone out to buy film for his latest photography project and you’re lounging on your bed, your new face mask smeared all over your cheeks. Your phone rings– it’s your best friend Wonho, who’s hosting tonight’s party.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey y/n, I’m really sorry but I have to cancel tonight... I’m super sick, there’s no way I can host.”

“Oh.” You droop. “No worries, man. Feel better! Do you want me to swing by and cheer you up?”

Wonho coughs. “Maybe tomorrow... I just need to sleep right now.”

“Alright, see you.”

You hang up and tap your fingers together restlessly. Tae’s not going to be back for a while, the specialty photography shop he loves is a few towns over. You’ve got the house to yourself and nothing to do, which can only mean...

“Self-care night!” You whoop, padding down the hall. You can get your bath bombs out, your favorite oils and lotions, and spoil yourself to your heart’s content. You can do anything.

Your eye catches Tae’s door. You can even... break the rules?

You’ll just look, you decide. He’s got so many accessories, most of which you haven’t seen. Hell, maybe you’ll even try one on, for shits and giggles. It’s not like Taehyung can stop you.

Wait– It’s not like Taehyung can stop you. The very thought fills you with an addictive rush of power. One ring? Screw that– you’ll wear them all.

Giggling, half-mad with excitement, you rush to his draw and pluck out all your favorites, the accessories you’ve coveted forever. The blue one... the gold one... the other gold one... the swirly one... the sparkly one...

You stare at yourself in the mirror, the bangles and baubles almost blinding. You’ve got three or four rings on each finger, along with Tae’s fancy hanging earrings and a fake lip ring.

“I’m Taehyung,” you drawl dramatically, striking pose after pose in the mirror. “I’ve got the best sense of style and I’m so popular, and my sister is always trying to steal my things, and even though she’s the older twin, I’m still, like, better.”

Your antics give you the giggles– sure, you’re alone in the house, but even that won’t stop you from teasing your brother.

You check the clock; you’ve still got enough time for a bath, right? You head to the bathroom and fill the tub with borderline-scalding water, sighing as you sink into its depths. After setting up your favorite playlist and plopping a scented bath bomb into the water, you lean back and let your muscles relax, lazily admiring your bejeweled fingers.

Do you feel guilty? Sure, maybe a little. But if you put everything back before Tae notices, he’ll be none the wiser and that’ll be that.

You smile to yourself– seeing the shiny rings against your skin makes you feel like a princess. If only you could stay like this, ridiculously over-accessorized, forever.

~~~

Taehyung clutched his new purchases happily– the store manager, knowing Tae was a regular, gave him a discount on the vintage film he wanted, and so he didn’t take nearly as long in the shop as he thought he might. Now he could go home, enjoy a relaxing evening alone, and go to that park tomorrow with the water lilies that he’d been dying to photograph.

The house was quiet when he entered, save for y/n’s music floating from the bathroom. She probably left the radio on again. Dummy. Tae went to his room and dumped his purchases on his bed, flopping beside them. Rolling onto his side, he noticed something seemed...off. Was his jewelry drawer ajar? He got to his feet and moved to close the drawer properly, when something caught his eye. Or rather, the lack of something caught his eye. Where were his rings?

Taehyung’s heart dropped into his stomach as he tallied the jewelry. He was missing thirty-five rings, two fake lip piercings, and one set of earrings. Had he been robbed? The last person in the house was y/n. Maybe she’d seen something? Oh god, what if y/n was hurt? Or if she left the house unlocked? Tae fumbled with his phone before calling his twin. “C’mon, c’mon...”

Y/n didn’t pick up. Should he call the police? He tried her number again, to no avail.

“Y/n? Y/n!” Tae called out to the empty house. No answer. It would make sense– she’s at her friend’s party. God, how much money had he spent on that jewelry? And now it was gone. Where was his sister?

~~~

You’re distracted enough humming along to your playlist that you don’t hear the footsteps thumping down the hall, at least not until the bathroom door swings open and your brother bursts in.

“Ah! Tae, jeez, learn to knock!” you shriek, clenching your fists to try hiding some of the rings.

“Y/n! Oh, thank god you’re okay! Look, we gotta call Mom, I think we’ve been burgled–” Taehyung cuts off when he notices you fully. “You’re... are those...?”

“Uh...” You try for an innocent smile. “I can explain?”

Tae rubs his temples. “I can’t believe I have to say this... put on your clothes so I can yell at you properly, dumbass.”

You salute, his rings glittering with water droplets. “Yessir.”

[robinskalechip]

home - chapter seven

robin buckley x reader

a/n: we getting spicy but soft tonight boiiss

warnings: drug use, language

masterlist

not my gif!

chapter seven - i dare you to love me

sofia and robin had continued the week getting to know one another more and more. sofia would take robin to school and to work and home every day for three reasons.

one, robin had a habit of hurting herself on her bike so she was trying to avoid anymore injuries

two, she didn’t like robin riding at night especially, but that’s mainly because she had been in the city for the last few years and she knew how dangerous it got there at night but hawkins is hawkins

three, she loved spending time with robin, and robin loved spending time with her

it was friday night and robin was in the store all alone. she was stuck with the overnight shift and sofia and steve were planning to go to sam anderson’s party to catch up with old friends.

it was already midnight and robin had popped in the apartment on the tv in the store

she was about half way through when she heard the front door swing open and then entered steve in full mom mode with a giggling sofia in his arms, full bridal style

it wasn’t until sofia gained her focus onto robin that she paused her giggling to greet her, “oh hey freckles”

steve walked to the couch that was located only within a few feet of him and plopped her down, which caused him to receive a very ugly look from the girl until she returned to her own little world

robin was very very confused, “what”

steve walked up to her, taking a breather, “I DONT KNOW.” he turned around to keep an eye on sofia as she had her legs up in the air she’s high as shit “she said she had a brownie and some beer and then i caught her trying to put the goldfish in the overflowing sink because he apparently wanted to go on vacation”

robin laughed but quickly tried to contain herself and return to a serious face of concern before steve could see her

sofia had on a pair of tight khakis with red converse and a light grey knit sweater. on her wrist she had the watch that robin had seen her wear on most days she was with her and a ring on her right middle finger that also made an appearance almost every time robin had seen her

robin poked steve on the shoulder and he turned around slowly, “look, i know you were looking foward to this party so i will be your knight in shining armor and look after sofia”

steve sighed in relief as he began to make his way out of the door before he was stopped once again by robin’s voice, “BUT” he turned, with a slightly irritable look on his face “go get us food?”

steve sarcastically nodded and made his way out of the door before giving sofia a good ole furred brow which she returned in the cute way that makes robin laugh

once steve left sofia adjusted her position to where she was looking at robin upside down, her feet hanging over the edge of the couch, “you know what, robin?”

“what”

“steve? he’s a good nut” robin started to ramble on in the most serious of tones “like the best of nuts, he is a high class god damn almond my freckled beauty. like sure he was a real pain in high school but NOW god and they say evolution isnt a thing”

robin looked sofia in the eye, trying to contain herself before they both bursted into laughter

robin made her way to sofia on the couch and motioned her to sit up

robin was sitting on one send of the sofa while sofia was laying on the other end, her knees bent so she wouldn’t get into robin’s way and they talked amongst themselves and by talk i mean sofia asked robin a bunch of hypotheticals that robin entertained while they waited for steve to return with the grub

“have you.....ever been in love?”

“nope not yet”

“you will soon, i can feel it. i have a sixth sense. just wait in the near future you’re gonna be head over heels for some lucky gal”

robin had a damn near heart attack

sofia popped her head up, confused “what”

“how did you-“

“how did i know? ppffttt. please. don’t insult me”

sofia was now sitting crisscrossed, oddly closer to robin, “one, i live in god damn new york aka the san fran of the east coast. two, you have no interest in steve or literally any other man i’ve ever seen you interact with but i see you eyeing girls all the time because im eyeing them too”

robin had another heart attack

confirming both sexualities, two birds one cross faded rant

“third, you wear an ungodly yet hot amount of jewelry. you listen to the smiths like it’s your religion. the first day i met you i knew you were into women”

robin now had furred brows, “how so?”

“who’s the dingus now? you were reading the price of salt, robin.”

robin was stunned, and somehow she got even more stunned when sofia put a hand on her thigh and got close to her ear and began to whisper, sending a chill down robin’s spine, “you were also practically eating me with your eyes buckley”

as sofia leaned back to her original state she arched her brows at a still very still robin

sofia was on her seventh question, “what is...your favorite flower?”

robin thought to herself, “i don’t really know”

“oh come on, pick one, i know a god awful amount of information about plants and what they mean, hit me”

robin took a deep breath, “i guess i’d say the lily is my favorite” she laughed to herself as she saw sofia giggle “what does the lily mean?”

sofia was looking at the ceiling, playing with a baseball she had found under the couch, tossing it up in the air and catching it continuously, as she spoke her words in a soft voice with a soft smile, robin still staring at her, waiting for a response.

“i dare you to love me”

robin’s smile had now dropped as she looked at sofia for a few more seconds to be interrupted by the door once again, but this time with steve holding a bag with larry’s logo on it, causing sofia to jump off the couch in excitement and grabbing to bag

“thank GOD i’m starving”

steve cleared his throat, causing the girl to turn around to see her friend holding up a to-go cup with a straw in it

“my special shake?”

steve nodded

“and a vanilla shake for you” robin took the beverage “and a crap load of fries in the bag”

aka the fries that sofia was already munching on

“ok have fun, bye robin”

“bye dingus”

“bye sofia” which was answered by a simple wave from a distracted sofia whose only concern was those fries and shake

after about twenty minutes of robin and sofia eating fries and drinking shakes and talking about nonsense, the found themselves messing with absolutely anything and everything they could find in the store. they found a couple of flower crowns in one of the shelves of the counter that steve had received from max when she made them with el last time she visited her

sofia grabbed the crown with blue flowers and hopped onto the countertop to face robin who was behind the counter looked at an old magazine she found

“robin, come here” she said laughing but still in a soft tone

robin put the magazine down and stepped towards sofia

sofia smiled and gently placed the crown on top of robin, fixing her hair immediately after

robin grabbed the other crown right next to her that had yellow flowers and placed it onto sofia’s head in the small gentle fashion as sofia

the smiled at each other before sofia once again bursted into laughter and took off her crown “i could never rock these, definitely not like max could”

she took robin’s off but in the process messed up her hair way more than intended and began to fix it, calmly brush it down and to the sides of her face

the both paused, just staring at each other, enjoying the calm, their smiles now gone and their eyes now below each other’s noses

sofia leaned forward, her hands now cupped robin’s face that was meeting her halfway to capture each other in the most gentle of kisses and pulled away immediately after to look each other in the eye before continuing a few seconds longer

sofia hopped off of the counter the pressed her body closer to robin’s, kissing her more passionately this time

sofia will never forget how robin made her feel in that moment

she’ll never forget how she tasted like vanilla because of her shake

or how her hands rested on her thighs

or the words she said to robin once they pulled away

sofia giggled once she backed away, “i’m so shit faced jesus christ”

robin laughed back, her heart hearting. did sofia mean that kiss or is she just so out of her mind from the booze and weed that she’d kiss anyone at this point?

“let’s get you some water”

next chapter

[beckzorz]

PREMONITIONS (1/5)

or, Adventures Adjacent to a Six-Year-Old Seer

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Words: 2566 Summary: On Halloween, your clairvoyant niece leads you straight into Bucky Barnes. It could not have gone worse. Warning(s): A gunshot, a bullet, light swearing A/N: Happy (month of) Halloween! Here’s my contribution for Kari’s (@until-theend-oftheline) Marvelous Halloween Challenge! My prompt was ‘costumes.’ The challenge covers the first part of a multi-chapter story, which I will try to finish posting by the end of the month! Also I, drew the header and made the Reader based on myself because I have no imagination :P

“Uh oh,” Gemma says. At six-years-old-plus-just-one-week, your niece’s voice still chirps high and sweet, but you can tell there’s something wrong.

“What’s the matter, cutie?” you ask, kneeling next to her on the sidewalk.

Gemma screws up her face and adjusts her Captain America mask over her eyes to better see you in the light of the streetlamp overhead. Her round trick-or-treat bag is shaped and colored like the superhero’s famous shield, and her tiny uniform is bright blue even behind your dark goggles. It’s all you can do to keep from smiling—but then there’s that nagging in your gut at her confused expression.

“I dunno,” Gemma says. “But I think it’s over there.” She spins around, bag swinging, and marches off down the street.

You spring back up and follow closely. Gemma always had a knack for knowing where to go—or at the very least, she was damn bossy and it always seemed to work out okay. Even her parents had to admit she was right more often than was good for her. You sometimes wondered about her ego, but if she didn’t have one of her little schemes in mind, she was perfectly reasonable for her age.

Something wrong on Halloween, though…

You’ve never been a big fan of holiday shenanigans. Fireworks are underwhelming, turkey isn’t half as good as chicken, and Halloween is just a mess. It’s not even seven thirty, but you’ve already picked up more candy wrappers off the street than you can count. And Gemma had tired out earlier, leaving you to carry her for an ungodly period of time. Fortunately, she’s got her energy back, so you don’t have to carry her anymore.

The best neighborhoods yielded their fruit, and Gemma’s bedtime is creeping up on you. You were en route to your brother Matt’s place before Gemma got her latest idea. At least she’s still headed in roughly the right direction.

When you turn onto the main street, you grab Gemma’s free hand. Your plan had been to stick to side streets, but Gemma has other ideas. It’s no strain to keep up with her brisk pace. She’s walking fast, but she’s tiny for her age.

Fallen leaves crunch underfoot. Halloween might be a pain, but autumn? Autumn is good.

“Oh! I know.” Gemma jumps happily.

You come to a stop in front of a closed real estate office. “Oh? What is it?”

“It’s a bang bang.”

“A bang bang?” It’s your turn to screw up your face. What the hell does bang bang mean?

“Up there,” Gemma says, pointing.

You follow the line of her tiny finger and swivel your head to stare up and across the street. Your goggles are too dark to see above the light of the streetlamps; you push them up into your straightened hair and squint up at a shadowed rooftop. The sky is dark, but you can just barely make out the shape of a person up there.

“It’s just someone…” You trail off, eyes still trained upwards. They’ve hefted something up, something long and skinny held perpendicular to their spine. Your heart stops; is that a rifle?

“Bang bang,” Gemma repeats.

“Oh my god,” you mutter. You pick Gemma up instinctively and look back up, shielding your niece with your body. Where are they aiming?

Please, god, not for us. Not for Gemma…

But the barrel is focused north of you. You turn to stare down the street.

Your stomach drops, and you start to run north. Gemma’s bag of candy bounces noisily against your back, her feet against your thighs.

Gemma had insisted that you dress up to match her. Not like Captain America, but his friend from the war. She hadn’t insisted on a specific costume, but it seemed easiest to get a black leather jacket, goggles, and a silver glove; you already had black jeans and black ankle boots fit for kicking in doors.

You didn’t get the point before, but as your feet pound the pavement, you see it now.

You see him now.

You bend just long enough to set Gemma down a few buildings away from the target—she cries out in protest when she tumbles to the ground—and you keep running. The target is looking at his phone, a gallon of milk held in his other hand. You barely note that he’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt, of all things, over a long-sleeved tee that hides his arm.

“Sergeant Barnes, get down!” you call.

The Winter Soldier glances up, sees you, freezes. You don’t stop running, and in another second you barrel into him with all your might. He grunts and stumbles back. A buzzing sound whizzes by you as he topples back. Your eyes widen as you fall—did a hot poker just go in your hip?

Shock floods you as you land heavily on top of Bucky Barnes. Your head falls forward; the sidewalk is rough against your forehead. He grunts and grabs your upper arms to push you up enough to see your face.

“What the hell?” he says. His blue eyes are wide.

“Bang bang,” you pant. You wince and put a hand by his ear to prop yourself up. A hot, wet wave passes through your left hip. To your left, you see a burst-open gallon of milk. “Ugh, I’m so sorry. I think someone meant to shoot you. Maybe?”

He doesn’t answer right away, and in between breaths you realize that you are quite literally lying down on top of the Winter Soldier.

You are lying down on top of the Winter Soldier while dressed as the Winter Soldier.

Heat floods your cheeks. Your hips are on his; one of his legs is caught between yours, his thigh pressed tight against your groin. Oh god, really? Of all the times to finally get some action, it had to be now? With this guy? He might be a superhero, he might be oddly gorgeous despite the surprise on his face (gosh, those lips!), but you literally just ran into him and knocked him to the ground.

And so much for getting Gemma home on time. You’re barely two blocks away from Matt’s place, but nope.

The thought of your niece jerks you into action. You push yourself up and sit back on your heels, but a stinging in your hip makes you pause, still straddling his leg. “Gemma?” you call.

“What?” Gemma is almost next to you already. You tug her in close and breathe in deeply. Your hip still feels oddly warm and wet.

“Are you okay, sweetie?”

“Uh-huh.” Gemma wriggles away. “It’s okay now.” She finally notices the man you’re sitting on and gasps in excitement. “Look!”

You wince. “Yes, I saw.”

Bucky Barnes shifts back and sits up. His face is guarded now, but his eyes are still that steel blue.

“What the hell,” he said, but it wasn’t a question. “Where’s the bullet?”

“What bullet?” you ask, frowning.

“There was a gunshot,” he said.

“Bang bang,” Gemma said unhelpfully.

“Not now, Gemma,” you scold. Another wave passes through your hip—oh. A gunshot. A bullet. You reach back; your silver glove comes back red and shining. “Oh, huh. Shit.” You glance at Gemma and quickly stuff your hand in your pocket. She’s looking elsewhere; thank god. A few people have started to cluster around you, and you meet the eyes of the middle-aged woman closest to you. “Could you call 911?” you ask. Her eyes widen.

“I’m on it,” someone else said. A teenager; good. He’s got a smartphone. He turns away and starts rattling off the situation and location.

“Es el Captain America!” someone exclaims.

“Gemma, stay here,” you order instinctively. You reach out with your clean hand and drag her into your lap. The last thing you need right now is for Gemma to run off. She wriggles until you squeeze her tighter, then she slumps back into your hold with a huff.

You’re still sitting on Bucky’s leg, but with the realization that you’ve been shot, you’re afraid to move.

“I’m sorry we’re squashing you,” you tell him. “I, uh, don’t really want to move.”

“Fair,” he answers. His gaze has softened. He reaches out, then pauses. “I’m going to put pressure on that.”

“She’ll be okay,” Gemma announces.

“I wish I had her optimism,” you grumble to Bucky, but you can’t help but grin a little.

His eyes light up. “You seem to be doing okay.” He puts a hand on your hip and presses tight.

There’s a sharp, searing pain now that wasn’t there before. Your eyes widen in shock; you clench your teeth hard against the agony and pull your bloody hand out of the tiny pocket so you can clench it into a fist.

“Nevermind,” Bucky mutters. “Shit.”

“Buck!”

Steve Rogers skids to a halt beside you, his spangled shield on his arm.

“Hey man,” Bucky says. He doesn’t look away from you, and you slowly manage to recreate a normal expression. “Sniper tried to shoot me. The usual.”

“The usual?” you gasp. “Fucking hell.”

Steve glances between you, Gemma, and Bucky, his long face screwed up in confusion. You can’t quite blame him—you hadn’t sworn this much in front of Gemma since before she could talk. And there was the matter of your costumes, too.

“They got her instead,” Bucky adds.

That gets Steve’s full attention. He crouches beside you and puts a large hand on your shoulder. His eyes flit from your face to the bloody silver glove held away from your niece. “Are you alright, ma’am?”

“Ma’am?” you sputter. You cough and glance at Bucky. The pressure on your hip is still worse than you’d expected, but his thumb is rubbing little circles on your back. It’s a sweet little distraction, enough to make you feel comfortable addressing your next comment to him and not Steve. “Insult to injury. Literally.”

Bucky’s eyebrows fly up. His eyes crinkle with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen. Your breath catches.

“Sorry,” Steve says, and you jolt in surprise. You’d almost forgotten him, crazy as that seems. “Are you okay?”

“According to my niece—” you squeeze Gemma with your right arm— “I’ll live.” You can’t see Gemma’s face, but you can imagine the absolute amazement there. The design on her candy bag is echoed large and more than real in the shield propped next to you.

“I’m sure you’re right, captain,” Steve says to Gemma. He speaks seriously, without the condescension of most grown men. Steve looks back at you, a question in his eyes that you aren’t sure you can answer.

“She should be okay,” Bucky says. “Not too much lost.”

“She’ll be fiiiiine,” Gemma trills. “I know it.” She bounces happily on your lap. The jolting is uncomfortable in the best of circumstances. This… isn’t the best of circumstances.

“Can you keep still, sweetie?” you whimper.

“Come here, Gemma,” Bucky says. He holds out his free arm—his metal arm, incidentally—to Gemma, and she jumps up at once to lean against his shoulder. Bucky puts his arm around her and squeezes her arm. “Your aunt is very brave,” he tells her. He doesn’t look at you, but your cheeks warm all the same.

“I know,” Gemma said. She stacks her feet one on top of the other and props herself on Bucky’s shoulder, tracing the clashing red and green hibiscus against the blue background of his shirt with one skinny finger. “She’s the best. I told her where to go and she did it.”

“You told her where to go?” Steve asks.

“She’s got good instincts,” you interrupt, glancing at the crowd jostling around you. No one had come too close, but you’ve had a realization, and with it comes a sudden sharp fear.

How had Gemma known? This was nothing like her usual little stubborn schemes, where something little went well—a parking spot opening up, perfect weather in the park, meeting a friend by going the long way home. This was big. This was scary. And this was way out of a six-year-old’s league.

“I saw the guy on the roof, and I saw the gun, and I ran for it,” you continue.

“You didn’t run for it, you ran to me.” Bucky’s thumb stills against your back. “Why?”

You blink. Isn’t it obvious? “Because people should know to duck when they’re being aimed at?”

Bucky blows out a breath between his teeth. He opens his mouth, but the shrill horn of a siren cuts through the noise before he can speak. Blue and red lights cast eerie shadows as the crowd parts to clear a path for the approaching ambulance.

“Where’s Mom?” Gemma asks.

“Shit,” you answer. You fumble for your phone in the pocket of your leather jacket. Blood from your glove smears on the screen, and it’s an effort to tap the right icon to call your sister-in-law. The bright lights are wreaking havoc with your vision, and the siren cuts through your skull like a knife.

“Let me,” Steve says. You pass the phone to him wordlessly, and he speaks in even tones to Gemma’s mom.

You sigh and close your eyes. Your head droops forward, and before you know it your forehead is pressed against Bucky’s shoulder.

“Hey, hey, stay awake,” he says.

You open your eyes—yikes, his shirt is horrifically bright—and suck in a shuddering breath. There’s a vague smell, one you can’t identify, but it’s too heady to be detergent. Maybe you are passing out. A small hand pats your head, and a little smile flashes on your concealed face. Sweet Gemma.

The dampness on your glove seeps through. The feel of blood on your fingers makes you shudder against Bucky’s shoulder, and he turns his head to whisper soothing reassurances in your ear.

Finally, the ambulance and siren stop. EMTs come with their stretcher. The transfer from sitting on Bucky’s leg to lying face-down on the stretcher is less painful than the insane pressure of the bandage they tape down. You turn your head to look up at Bucky. Gemma has somehow gotten picked up and has her legs wrapped around Bucky’s waist.

“You okay, sweetie?” you ask her. Bucky’s wiping his bloody hand on his jeans out of Gemma’s sight.

“Mm-hm.” She nods sharply. “Captain America saves the day.”

The EMTs begin wheeling you away, and you see your brother and sister-in-law pushing frantically through the crowd. “Gemma! Gemma!” her mom cries.

“There’s Mom and Dad!” Gemma wriggles in Bucky’s grip, and he’s forced to put her down and jog after her towards her mom. Matt runs straight to you, Dracula cape flapping behind him.

“Shit, are you okay?” he gasps, panting for breath.

“Gemma says I should be,” you tell him. You crane your head to look past him; Bucky and Steve are now both talking to your sister-in-law Sarah, who has Gemma cradled in her arms. Bucky glances back to you. You shoot him a little smile, but then the EMTs start to roll you away and the cluster of bystanders blocks your view.

Of all the pains of the last fifteen minutes, the pang of losing sight of Bucky is perhaps the worst.

Matt holds tight to your hand and climbs into the ambulance with you. The siren starts up again, and you’re driving away from the street, away from the crowd, away from Gemma.

Away from Bucky.

Read Part 2 here!

Tagging: @kentuckybarnes @noshitstark @fortheloveofjbbarnes @sgtjbuccky @bitsandbobsandstuff @buckitybarnes @the-whitewolfie @the-canary @buckybarneshairpullingkink @bambamwolf87 @moonbeambucky @itsbuckysworld

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[pyropsychiccollector]

Fate Zero: Part Two

            To say Erza Scarlet’s time in the modern had been “interesting” would be… a giant understatement. Her short time at the Einzbern castle in Europe, while short, was at least a location and setting she was familiar with; she’d been to a few castles, in her lifetime. It all boiled down to little things, really – the modern ways of preserving and serving food, modern appliances and utilities, and especially modern technology…

            None of it was powered by Magic.

            Now granted, there was nothing wrong with that. It was a sign that times had moved on, and people had managed to find ways of surviving and living without Magic as an everyday commodity. It was like Edolas in a way… only Erza had never expected her world to go the same route that Edolas most likely did. Certainly, without Magic powering weapons, it could be argued that they grew “weaker” in some aspects… But it could be argued that weapons without Magic could be just as effective, if not more dangerous. If one was attuned with Magic, they could detect Magic-powered weapons with some training; it was harder to see them coming from the shadows without Magic.

            … And she supposed that was what most concerned her about Kiritsugu. He was an assassin. A fighter. He wasn’t going to play the typical “support” role that most Masters adopted in Grail Wars. As much as she would like to believe that she could and would receive help from his quarter, it wasn’t going to be in the way that she would have preferred… He was having Irisveil play as a figurehead for that role, to fool the other Masters. That meant she would need to devote all her energy to protecting Irisveil… and not Kiritsugu, who would mark her end in this war if he acted too rashly and got himself killed.

            That wasn’t even getting into what he would be trying to get into with the other Masters and Servants… Erza could only hope that, somewhere in the deepest vestiges of Kiritsugu’s seemingly empty heart, he would show mercy to the opponents that deserved it. Though Grail Wars were inevitably bloody and merciless… Erza really was holding out hope, even for enemy Masters who may not deserve her sympathy. The Grail could have chosen anyone, and they may have an equally noble wish for the Grail; there was no need to slaughter such people, at least in her mind.

            … It really made her think of and yearn for the “simpler” days she had in life… When everyday was just going to be another adventure, and not one that would possibly lead to cruelty and bloodshed.

            ~*~

            “Tokiomi.”

            The aforementioned mage looked up from the report he was writing and bowed respectfully.

            “Ah… Master Hades. Is there something I can do for you?”

            Archer crossed his arms as he stared at Tokiomi critically.

            “I have heard many reports about the Masters and Servants by now, from both you and Assassin… I have heard your assessments, the key locations where the Grail may be formed, and I have even heard your understanding of what the other Masters desire of the Grail. What I have not yet heard is your own wish – what you would ask of the Grail, should I allow you to touch it after claiming victory over the other Servants… Tell me. What is your goal?”

            Tokiomi rose up from his bow and returned Archer’s gaze, meeting his eye.

            “It’s simple in concept… For generations, the Tohsaka family has attempted to reach what is called the Root. It does not exist in this world, but outside of it – that is why, if I can claim the Grail, I can say with certainty that I have no “wish” to ask of it because what I truly desire… is the portal that it will create, once the Grail is completely formed.”

            Archer stroked his beard curiously.

            “The Root…? And what, pray tell, is that?”

            Tokiomi’s eyebrows rose in surprise as he rose up from his bow.

            “I am surprised you haven’t heard of it. In your legend, it is said that you once sought what you called the ‘primordial Magic’. To put it simply, the Root is a very similar concept; it holds all knowledge, and should one be able to reach the Root and understand it, will be essentially granted the power of a god! It has been the Tohsaka family’s noble goal to reach the Root and understand everything… This once held true for the other families the Tohsakas once aligned themselves with, but unfortunately, they have fallen from grace and chosen to pursue their dreams in this world, instead.”

            While Tokiomi provided his explanation of both the Grail War and the Root, Hades listened attentively and curiously. Considering his own goals, the former leader of the Balam Alliance had to admit – being partnered with Tokiomi was quite the fortuitous occurrence. With any other Master, he might’ve contemplated what to do in the event that his Master was either incompetent or had an atrociously shortsighted goal… But Tokiomi was neither. He gathered intelligence. Made plans. And his dream was something that Hades found he could truly appreciate – regardless of the fact if the Grand Magic World and this “Root” were different entities, the fact remained they were fundamentally the same dream. Both of them sought for ancient Magic beyond the material world, unparalleled power that was just waiting to be wielded…

            In a word: Tokiomi Tohsaka was the perfect Master. His ideal partner in this game of “heroes” battling for their sole wish to be granted.

            “Tokiomi Tohsaka.” Hades began authoritatively, once the magus had completed his explanation in full. His respect for Tokiomi grew as the man only mildly tensed under the heavy, imposing atmosphere that came with his presence. “Up until now, I had no plans to guarantee my loyalty towards you. We ‘Servants’ are often seen as disposable pawns used for the sole purpose of acquiring a cup that grants wishes… But you alone have exceeded my expectations from what to expect of the mages in this modern era. You shall have the chance to attain your family’s long-held dream – no one else shall lay a finger on the Holy Grail.”

            In response, Tokiomi could only bow deeply once more.

            “Many thanks, Master Hades…”

            ~*~

            Kariya had to admit, he felt a little strange, sitting in the park in the middle of the day. Around this time had things gone to “plan”, he probably should have been skulking about in back alleys, getting what rest he could for the eventful nighttime to come. Zouken would be watching him from the shadows, and he would be puking his guts out because of the worms inside of him.

            … But it had all been derailed. Derailed by the same wild, raggedy man that was currently pushing Sakura on the swing set like a caring father, a carefree grin on his face as she laughed in enjoyment for what must have been the first time in a long while. Just by looking at him, you would think the man wasn’t capable of wanton destruction and violence; that he wasn’t summoned with the intention of lacking a soul.

            Yet Kariya knew different. And it wasn’t just the fact that Berserker had burned down the Matou manor and wiped out Zouken and the Crest Worms in his and Sakura’s bodies… He’d gotten confirmation from Natsu himself, back on that first night after putting Sakura to bed.

            “I definitely have that ‘insanity’ enchantment placed on me. It felt so right to burn it all down… But the fact you’re my Master, and she’s an innocent kid, that’s the only thing stopping me from going on a rampage right now.”

            Natsu would be fighting. It was an inescapable fact. Kariya felt guilt over it, of course; he’d cooperated with that slimy bastard Zouken to make it happen. But Natsu told him not to worry about it – that he was used to fighting to get what he wanted, to protect those close to him. And if you believed the legends surrounding him, Kariya knew this to be very true. Natsu was not a calm, peaceful individual.

            … And yet he was great with kids, apparently. Kariya was grateful that Natsu and Sakura got along so well. Sakura deserved this reprieve, after all the hellish ordeals she had gone through because of that stuck-up bastard Tokiomi giving her away to the Matous…

            Kariya clenched his hands into fists on his lap, staring down at them. It was true that Sakura was now safe, and so he didn’t have much of a ‘reason to fight’ in the Grail War… He was perfectly capable of “wasting” the Command Seals and letting Berserker fade away, getting as far away from this Grail War as much as possible…

            “Oh yeah! I don’t mind helpin’ ya get revenge on a rotten father like that! We’ll get ‘im.”

            He’d be lying, though, if he said he wasn’t looking forward to the night’s ‘festivities’…

            ~*~

            Slowly, Kirei began to pace the small room he was in, hands clasped behind his back.

            “So, Assassin… I am sure you have had ample time to observe a few Masters and Servants by now. Tell me, what were you able to find out?”

            Over by the wall, in a dark corner of the room, Cobra cracked his one good eye open.

            “The Tokiomi guy and Archer piss me off… But, you’re probably tired of hearing me harp on about that, so… I know Rider has a kid Master. The way I understood it, the kid stole the artifact that summoned him from one of the other Masters coming, that El-Melloi guy… The kid’s a novice, no serious threat. Though Rider, who I know is Gajeel Redfox, is definitely going to be troublesome; I don’t know what it is, but he’s got his hands on something really powerful, and we’re going to need to uncover what that is.

            Cobra turned his head up towards the ceiling.

            “Then you’ve got Caster, who I was finally able to track down… I didn’t know him personally in life, but he’s a guy called Neinhart. Ditto on needing to find out what he can do, though… I don’t know if he can still do it, but I heard he was able to summon up the memories of dead people while he was still alive. That could be troublesome for us.”

            “Anything on Caster’s Master?” Kirei stopped him there.

            “Total whackjob. Serial killer, from what I gather. Nothing you or Tokiomi can’t handle, though.” Cobra grimaced upon remembering the third Servant he’d dug up information on. “… And then you got Berserker.”

            Kirei hummed thoughtfully as he remembered Tokiomi’s intelligence reports.

            “Would Berserker’s Master be Kiritsugu Emiya, or would he be Kariya Matou?”

            “Matou.” Cobra replied dully. “And before you ask – no, he’s not going to be a pushover anymore. Berserker cured his Master of those… worms… and burned down Matou manor. We’re going to need to be careful when going up against them.”

            “How so?” Kirei asked curiously.

            “Bererker’s identity is Natsu Dragneel. I don’t know who thought to summon and assign that guy the Berserker Class…But he just might give Archer a run for his money. Biggest reserves of Mana that I’ve seen yet, and he’s clearly hiding secrets. If I had to choose any of the Servants that we know about and treat them with utmost caution, it’d be him. Rider and Caster don’t give me nearly as many bad vibes as Berserker does… And Archer, he’s powerful, but I can’t even begin to imagine what Dragneel’s Noble Phantasm is going to end up being. It just might be enough to take Archer down, depending on what it is.”

            Kirei hummed thoughtfully again.

            “How very… informative. Natsu Dragneel…” Kirei trailed off, recalling the legends surrounding the Dragon Slayer – they were very well-known. The priest cleared his throat after spending time lost in thought. “Obviously, we have yet to deduce the identities of Lancer and Saber, but we have a firm grasp on all the Masters now. Good work.”

            Cobra rolled his eye.

            “Yeah, sure, two expert mages, a priest, a kid, a serial killer, a guy that used to be on the verge of keeling over, and a Magus Killer. Just one big happy family…” Cobra grumbled as Kirei dismissed him for the time being. He still wasn’t happy about being in an alliance with Archer, but it was out of his hands.

            “Kiritsugu Emiya… when shall you arrive…?” Kirei pondered to himself, once he was left alone.

            Emiya really was the one Master that he was curious about most of all. Kirei believed if he could understand the Magus Killer… he could understand what it was that he himself was seeking in this war.

            ~*~

            That night…

            “RIIIDERRR!!!” Waver yelled at the top of his lungs as he clung to one of the metal arches on the bridge they were on top of. “Get me down from here…! Right now! Take me down!!!”

            Gajeel simply rolled his eyes as he calmly sat cross-legged, looking out across the water and at the city of Fuyuki.

            “You kiddin’ me? This is a perfect vantage point to survey the land!” He made a wide sweeping gesture at the city skyline.

            “I’m leaving!” Waver continued to whine pitifully. “N-No way! T-Take me down! I can’t handle this!”

            Gajeel scoffed, unimpressed.

            “Calm down already… Waiting is a huge part of war!”

            “I wanna go… I wanna go back to England!”

            “I told ya not to be in such a damn rush…” Rider grinned and looked over toward the docks. “Ya see? Things are finally startin’ to heat up around here!”

            Rider belted out a laugh and widened his grin, turning his full attention to the battle that would soon be unfolding. Waver just looked on in bewilderment.

            “Gihihi… This is gonna be a lotta fun…!”

            ~*~

            Erza had immediately picked up on the Servant who was sending out a challenge for the others… He was doing it obnoxiously, making his pulses of Mana almost impossible to ignore. But even so, Erza responded to the challenge with gusto – Irisveil by her side. If it was a fight that this Servant wanted, he was going to get a war. She did not intend to let him escape.

            “Well, damn…” The masculine voice muttered as the man stepped out from out of the shadows, once Erza and Irisveil had arrived. He carried a single long spear along with him as he watched Erza with shrewd eyes. “Of all the Servants that could’ve been summoned, it had to be you… I knew this wasn’t gonna be a cakewalk.”

            Despite the circumstances, Erza found herself smirking.

            “You’re Lancer? I suppose that kind of fits you. I take it that’s the ‘spear of Gungnir’?”

            Lancer clicked his tongue and twirled the spear casually, holding it out horizontally.

            “I can make a bigger ice version of this easily… but I guess that’d break too often. At least this one’s got some tricks…” He did a more stylish twirl of the spear as he performed a light spin on his feet, ending his movement by pointing the spear at Erza. “I take it you got your armory of swords to back you up?”

            In response, Erza Requipped into her Heaven’s Wheel Armor, never once dropping her smirk. Lancer rolled his eyes.

            “Of course… Taking ‘Master of the Sword’ to a whole new level… I just can’t catch a break.”

            Erza quirked an eyebrow good-naturedly.

            “Surely you’re not going to just give up? What would Natsu say?”

            Lancer scoffed.

            “He’d call me ‘Popsicle’, kick my ass, and then probably screw you seven ways to Sunday… And don’t pretend he wouldn’t do the last one. You two were never subtle.” He dryly remarked, smirking as he got Erza’s cheeks to light up. “If my first enemy’s gotta be you, so be it! I got a new Master, and I’m not gonna fail him. I’m stakin’ my honor on this… whatever honor I got left, anyway.”

            Erza’s face fell at that.

            “Gray…”

            Lancer just pointed at her forcefully.

            “None o’ that. You’re gonna come at me with everything you got, or you’re gonna have to tell Natsu you took it easy on me! Which is it gonna be?”

            Erza quietly brandished a sword, pointing it at Lancer.

            “… Fine. From one proud Fairy Tail mage to another, I will take this fight seriously.”

            “That’s the only way to be.” Lancer grunted in acknowledgement, and they began their duel in earnest.

            “Be careful, Saber…!” Iri warned the redhead. “If you get wounded, I shall heal you!”

            “Much appreciated, Irisveil…” Erza smirked again, clashing blade against spear. “… But I doubt this little boy will do more than prick me on his icepick…”

            Lancer narrowed his eyes at the jab, reminded of the moniker Natsu had bestowed on him.

            “I’m not standin’ for that… I will gut you…” He growled as the scarlet knight chuckled and danced around his attacks with ease.

            On the sidelines, skulking in the darkness, Kiritsugu and his accomplice, Maiya, were surveying the battlefield.

            “Maiya… have you pinpointed Lancer’s Master yet?”

            His radio crackled back in response.

            “No… Not yet.”

            Kiritsugu peered through his sniper’s scope as he looked around. It was easy to distinguish the Servants and Irisveil, out in the open. Looking upward, at the roof of a warehouse, he spotted another figure looking down at the duel with scorn.

            “… I’ve got a visual. Roof of the warehouse on the north end.”

            The radio crackled again when Maiya managed to respond.

            “I don’t see him…? Should I get closer and take the shot?”

            Kiritsugu panned his vision before coming to stop on another figure, perched on a nearby crane.

            “No. It looks like Assassin is here, too. If you make a move, he’s going to know.”

            “What should we do?” The radio crackled yet again.

            Kiritsugu paused and thought for a good long while. They would need to execute this very cautiously… especially since Assassin’s Master could be here, too. Up on the crane, Cobra scoffed, having been listening to everything on the battlefield.

            “Stinkin’ rats… Saber and Lancer are gonna be pissed about their tactics.” He rolled his eye as he kept it trained on the duel between Servants. At least Kirei didn’t have him doing something mundane like taking out that ‘Magus Killer’… yet.

            Eventually, everyone was pulled from their musings and observations when Rider made his descent on the battlefield – Waver slung under his arm, and Panther Lily flying them both into the fray.

            “Alright…! I can’t just sit back and watch this anymore! I’m gonna fight both you knuckleheads!!!”

            “Gajeel…?” Erza and Gray echoed together, pausing in their clash as they perceived Rider landing in a crouch.

            Their attention shifted once more as yet another Servant materialized on top of a light pole, his arms crossed.

            “I never would have imagined running into so many familiar faces… But, if Fate guides us all in this grizzly war… Then I shall take great pleasure… in treading over your corpses!”

            “Hades?!” Gray exclaimed, eyes wide in shock. Erza’s mouth was agape, too.

            “I can’t believe you were summoned…”

            Gajeel, still in his crouched position, narrowed his eyes at the fourth Servant to appear. He knew others were watching, but he figured he himself was going to be the only other one to stick his nose in this…

            From the shadows, leaning against a wall with his hood up, Kariya Matou gave a mischievous smirk.

            “Kill them all…”

            The next thing everybody knew, there was a sea of flames that erupted on the battlefield before a new figure emerged from them, giving a monstrous roar as he brushed his cloak aside, revealing two heavily bandaged arms.

            Needless to say, each one of the Servants recognized the new arrival.

            “N… Natsu…!?” Erza whispered, taken the most aback by the Dragon Slayer’s participation in the Grail War. Close by, Gray gritted his teeth and clutched his spear tighter.

            “Of all the friggin’ Classes… they had to give that guy the Berserker Class…!?”

            Gajeel wrinkled his nose at how acrid the flames smelt.

            “This is gonna be a pain in the ass…”

            Hades snorted in contempt, from atop the light pole.

            “Natsu Dragneel… Even with your participation, this will be but a…” Hades trailed off as all of the Servants and Masters stared at the collection of fireballs that Natsu willed into existence behind him; for now, it was a handful, but Natsu was currently aiming his snarl at Hades. “You dare bare you fangs at me, boy? You will not live through tonight, should you go through with this.”

            In response, a single fireball was shot at Hades… one that was easily dodged by leaping high into the air, but still ended up smashing through the light pole and melting it into nothingness. Hades landed on the ground gracefully with his cowl flapping. He was unintimidated by the warning shot.

            “Very well! Nothing shall remain of your corpse!” Hades declared boldly, holding up two fingers in the form of a gun, charging Mana into his fingertips. Berserker just stood there, equally unmoved, and still willing a number of hovering fireballs behind him to stay in place.

            Gajeel, Gray, and Erza looked on, still frozen in place. Erza couldn’t take her eyes off of the Dragon Slayer that was radiating so much madness and bloodlust… it didn’t suit him. Not at all.

            Up on the crane, away from the other Servants Cobra sighed as he prepared to get comfortable.

            “Here we go…”

            Six Servants, present at the very first battlefield. It was one hell of a way to kickstart the Fourth Holy Grail War…

[jae-sch-writes]

Help Me

Characters: Stiles Stilinski x Reader, Scott McCall, Unnamed OMC, other pack members (mentioned)

Word Count: 1,626 (oh my goodness, that is a lot more than usual)

Genre: flangst (but definitely more angsty and fluffy)

Summary: When the Reader decides to run off and not tell anyone, Stiles is determined to get her back. When he finds out why she did what she did, Stiles vows to help her, no matter what it takes.

Warnings: mentions of vomit, mentions of anxiety, mentions of depression, mentions of suicide, tears, feels

A/N: Once again, I managed to make Els mad at me, but my last piece was fluff, so naturally, I had to resort back to my angsty writing (regression toward the mean, ya know?) Edited by Grammarly, but any and all mistakes are my own and no one is to blame for them but me, myself, and I.

"Dude, do you know what's going on with Y/N? This is the third morning in a row that she's texted me saying not to pick her up for school," Stiles said as he and Scott walked into the school.

"I don't know, Stiles. Isn't she your girlfriend?" 

"I mean, yeah, but couldn't you use your hormone-smelling werewolf nose or something?"

"Can't really do that if Y/N isn't here, now can I?"

"Yeah, I guess not. Hey, maybe we can go to her house after school. She told me not to come over because she's really sick, and I was stupid and listened to her. Now I just think that something’s wrong. I mean, remember last year when she came to school with a fever and then she threw up in history and then tried to convince the nurse to let her go back to class. It's just not like her to miss three days of school in a row. She didn't even ask me to get her homework and bring it to her! I mean, I know she doesn't want me to come over and see her and get sick, but I could at least drop it off and see how she's-"

"Stiles,” Scott cut him off, “you're rambling.”

"Sorry, but you get my point. Something is definitely not right with Y/N."

"Hey, we'll just swing by later and make sure everything’s okay. I'm sure Y/N's fine."

Scott's reassurances throughout the day did nothing to ease Stiles' anxiety over the situation. And he had to wait until 3:10 for the feeling to go away

After school that day, Stiles and Scott drove to Y/N's house, but instead of her, her brother answered the door.

"Hey, Stiles. What's up, man?"

"Is Y/N here? She texted me this morning saying she was sick for the third day in a row."

"No, she told me she was staying with you for the next couple of days so I never thought anything of her not being here."

"Okay, well, then we have a problem because that means that neither of us has seen her in three days..."

Stiles was beginning to panic. Y/N's brother called the Sheriff and he put out an APB for her. The Sheriff’s department was looking for her and Scott’s mind was already putting a plan together to find the pack’s friend.

"Stiles, she'll be okay. We'll find her. I've got her scent and I'm sure Liam and Malia will be more than willing to help, too."

“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles rasped between heavy breaths, “she’ll be fine. She has to be. Scott, we have to find her. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to her.”

“Stiles, we’ll find her. I promise. We’ll get her back.”

Scott, Stiles, Malia, Kira, and Liam all spent the rest of the day searching for Y/N. It was clear that she didn’t want to be found, or the four supernatural teenagers and the one with great investigatory skills would have found her by the time the sun went down.

Stiles was going crazy. It was 10:43 at night and he had no clue as to where his girlfriend could possibly be. The pack had checked with Deaton at the animal clinic, the school, your favorite places, and even the hospital to see if Melissa knew anything, but no one was able to find you.

“Stiles, go home, get some rest,” Scott said eventually. “You won’t be able to help if you’re all worked up.”

“No, I have to stay. We need to find her. I need to find her,” Stiles said as walked even faster through town.

“No, Stiles. I’m telling you. Just go home for a couple of hours. Get some rest. I’ll call you if anything happens.”

“Fine,” Stiles said hesitantly, “I’ll go. But don’t think that I won’t still be trying to come up of places where Y/N could be.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

After Stiles left, Scott continued to look in town while Malia and Liam went out into the woods. Except, Scott could smell Stiles even after he left, but it wasn’t quite, full-on Stiles Stilinski. So Scott followed the scent.

When Scott reached the place where “Stiles’” scent was originating from, he was confused. It was the school. They had already checked the school and they didn’t find her there.

Scott continued to follow the scent and it led him to the lacrosse field where he found Y/N huddled under the bleachers.

“Y/N!” Scott exclaimed when he caught sight of the missing girl wearing one of Stiles’ sweatshirts. “Oh my god, you’re okay. We’ve been worried sick about you!”

“Why would you be worried about me?” Her voice was hoarse like she had been crying for hours.

“Because you’re our friend, family even. Of course, we would be worried about you.”

“But you have bigger and better things to worry about than where I am.”

“No, we don’t. You’re our first priority. Now come on, Stiles’ been freaking out since he found out you ran off without telling anyone.”

“Y/N?” Stiles asked when she and Scott reached the front door of the Stilinski household. “Thank God you’re okay!”

Stiles pulled Y/N into a bone-crushing hug. She was shaking from the brisk air and clinging to Stiles like he was her life-support. Like he was her only reason to keep breathing.

“Come on, let’s get you inside. You’re shivering,” Stiles said as he pulled her inside the house. He never wanted to let go of her, he was afraid that if he did, something even worse would happen to her.

Stiles sat on the couch and pulled Y/N to sit next to him and he held her to his side.

“Why did you run away, Y/N? We were all scared something happened to you.” Scott crouched in front of Y/N and spoke in a soft voice. Not one that would you speak in if you were speaking to a little kid, but one full of concern for his friend.

“You guys don’t need me. I’m not part of the supernatural and I’m not good at solving things like Stiles is. I’m just kinda…” Y/N paused like she was looking for the right word. “... useless.”

“Hey, no, don’t say that,” Stiles said as he held her closer and tighter. “You are not useless. You never were, and you never will be. I don’t want to hear those words come from anyone, especially from you.”

“But it’s true, okay? Sometimes, I lie awake at night and wonder why I’m even still here. I ran because I felt like I needed to, for your guys’ sake. I took Stiles’ sweatshirt to make it harder to find me. I kept moving around to try to throw you off the trail. You guys are smart, and I’m just… me.”

Y/N started to cry and she curled herself into Stiles’ side. Neither Scott nor Stiles and ever seen anyone feel more broken than she did right now.

“Hey, look at me,” Scott said, which made Y/N look up at him and he grabbed her hand. “You may not be a part of the supernatural, but neither is Stiles, but both of you are still a part of the pack, and it’s a pack’s job to take care of its members. You’re family, Y/N, and nothing can or ever will change that.” Scott gave Y/N a small smile before saying, “Stay here with Stiles and get some rest, okay? I’ll let everyone else know where you are and that you’re safe.”

“Thanks, Scott. I’ll make sure she sleeps. See ya, tomorrow,” Stiles said and Y/N nodded her head to Scott to let him know that she would be okay before he left.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

Stiles helped Y/N up off the couch and put his arm around her and laced his fingers with her own. He didn’t want to let her go, not after what just happened.

He gave Y/N a pair of his sweatpants and another one of his sweatshirts to change into before getting ready for bed himself. Then the couple crawled climbed into Stiles’ bed before he wrapped his arms around her.

The two of them lied there in silence until Stiles spoke up. “Did you really mean what you said? That sometimes you wonder why you’re still in Beacon Hills?”

“It’s not just here as in a location, Stiles,” she whispered. “Sometimes I wonder why I’m even still alive. Why I’m even bothering to continue breathing. And I can’t take it anymore, Stiles. I just can’t!”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Stiles said softly. “I’ll help you, okay? We all will. I promise. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

“Stiles, you can’t save me from me.”

“I can and I will. Even if it means staying with you 24/7. I will help you, no matter what it takes. I swear on my life…” Stiles had tears running down his face. “... I will help you. I can’t have anything happen to you, Y/N. I love you too much to let anything bad happen to you.”

“Okay.”

“What?”

“Okay, Stiles. I want you- no, need you to help me. Please, Stiles. Help me get better.”

“I will, but for now, let’s just get some sleep. It’s been a long day and I just want to keep you near me.”

“And you can. I love you, Stiles.”

“I love you, too, Y/N,” Stiles said before pressing a kiss to her head and the two of them drifted off to sleep, each in the other's arms.

[thetenthdoctorscompanion]

A One Shot Series - Peter Parker/OC

Word Count: 2464

Warnings: Guns, Spidey Violence, Language

MASTERLIST | PREV | Two

“I thought we were watching all three of them.” 

Ned was sitting on his bedroom floor, watching forlornly as Peter packed up his stuff. The credits of A New Hope was still running on the TV, their massive bowl of popcorn only half empty. 

“I’m sorry, man,” Peter said lamely. “But you heard what Burger said. If I flop another English assignment she’s gonna make me come for extra help. I just don’t want to risk it with band and robotics and everything.” 

“I know,” Ned sighed. “I could always help if you want? I’ve got to work on Spanish, and you’re way better than me.” 

“Ned, if I stay here, we’re gonna watch Empire Strikes Back, Return of the Jedi, and the prequels before we remember we have homework.” 

Ned didn’t even bother trying to hide his smile. 

“Yeah, that’s a good point.” 

“Hey, I’ll text you later though, okay?” 

Peter leaned down, pulling Ned into their handshake before grabbing a last fistful of popcorn. 

It wasn’t technically a lie, he thought as he sat on the roof of a nearby high-rise. He did need to work on his English assignment, and if he stayed at Ned’s the chances of that happening were very low. And he’d never actually told Ned he was going home to work on the assignment, so really he was in the clear. What would Ned know if Peter was working on his homework on a NYC rooftop instead of in his bedroom? 

It was one of the reasons Peter liked the weekend the best. It was a lot easier to go out when there was no place else he had to be. He could tell Aunt May he’d be at Ned’s for a Star Wars marathon. He could tell Ned he was leaving early to work on his homework. And if one or the other called him out on it, he could say he’d been at the library. It was the perfect system. 

As far as his respiderbilities were concerned—spider responsibilities, patrol route, he was still working on his monologue terminology—it had been a pretty good day. He stopped one mugger, found a lost dog, and stopped a jaywalker who was nearly hit by a messenger bike. He rewarded himself with some chicken nuggets and spent the rest of the evening actually doing his homework on rooftops, always keeping an ear out for potential trouble. 

 By the time his work was done, it was quiet in Queens. Quiet as it could be, anyway, crime-wise. But it still felt too early to go home. The sun had only just set, and there was plenty of time for things to go south. Peter figured he’d spend a little extra time scanning the dumpsters for parts before heading home. 

“Oh-ho-ho, sick,” Peter cheered, unearthing a set of walkie-talkies from a pile of cardboard. 

 A nail salon had recently moved into the old Radio Shack, and it seemed like they were still going through some of the inventory that’d been left behind. Peter had been scrounging their garbage for a few weeks now. It was a damn goldmine. 

“Tch, this is Spider-Man,” he mocked into one of the radios. “Tch, I repeat, Spider-Man to Iron Man, over. Tch, this is Iron Man. You are a go, over. Tch, Iron Man, I have located the aliens. They are heading your way North up Broadway. I repeat, the aliens are moving…” 

Crunch. 

Peter stopped dead, eyes wide. It wasn’t the sound so much as his senses. All his hair stood up on end, his eyes and ears instantly scouring the area. He dropped the walkies, heaving himself on top of the dumpster and leaping into action. 

 The disturbance was three blocks east of him, and it was with a jolt of surprise that Peter recognized the bodega. The front grate hadn’t been pulled down yet, the lights inside casting a yellow glow on the sidewalk. He could see two—no, three people inside. One man in black was ransacking the shelves, grabbing candy bars, lighters, lotto tickets. The other was taller, and had his back to Peter. All his attention was on the counter, and beyond him, Peter could just see a pair of shaking hands up in the air. 

“Yasmin?” 

The taller man shifted, saying something to his partner. That was when Peter caught sight of the gun. There was no time to think. He swung across the street, sticking to the side of the building and sliding down the bricks. The side door to the store was mangled, pried open with some kind of crowbar that had broken the lock. That must’ve been the sound he’d heard. It seemed impossible that the Delmars wouldn’t have heard it upstairs, but it didn’t sound like anyone was coming to help. Peter took one steadying breath, and slipped in through the door. 

It took a few seconds before they noticed him. The taller man was still holding a gun on Yasmin. Peter could see now that his other hand was holding a lumpy pillow case, undoubtedly filled with the money from the open register. Yasmin had backed up as far as she could, but her entire body was shaking, her eyes locked on the barrel leveled with her head. The snatcher froze halfway through emptying the fridge, his pale face staring at Peter with wide eyes. 

“Yo, who the fuck is this?” 

“Hey guys,” Peter said with a wave. “Is it too late to order? I kinda wanted an egg sandwich.” 

The gunman swung his weapon around, but Peter was ready for it. He webbed and ducked, scaling the window as he shot another web at the snatcher. The second web hit, anchoring the thief to the refrigerator. The first one, however, hadn’t worked so well. 

Bang! 

The gun went off, shattering the glass panel of the front door and prompting Yasmin to scream. 

“Shut up, bitch!” the gunman yelled, whirling toward her with the gun webbed to his hand. 

“No, no, no!” 

Peter jumped from the ceiling, grabbing Yasmin by the shoulders and pulling her down to the floor just before the gun went off again. He jumped back to his feet, vaulting over the counter and kicking the man in the chest. It sent him flying back into the window, and gave Peter just enough time to reactivate his web shooters. He shot rapid fire, one after the other, until the man was safely cocooned against the glass. 

“That’s just not cool, man,” said Peter, winded. “Don’t you have any respect for local businesses?” 

“Yo, dude, we just…” 

Peter shot another web at the snatcher, shutting his mouth for him. 

“Like I said. Not cool.” 

He extended his arm again, webbing the gun and yanking it out of the crook’s hand. It shot into his own, and he grabbed it just in time for Mr. Delmar to come running down the stairs. He held a baseball bat tight in his hands, wild eyes scanning the room. They found Peter in an instant. 

“You!” 

“¡No, papi!” 

Yasmin had unstuck herself, running forward to catch her father before he could whack Peter into oblivion. It occurred to him now that holding a gun and wearing a mask in the middle of a crime scene probably wasn’t the best look for him, even if he was in red and blue. He gingerly placed the gun on the counter, the barrel pointed away at the far wall, just in case. 

“No! Uh, uh—lo siento! No es, uh…that’s—that is not mine!” 

It did not look like Mr. Delmar believed him. Somehow, even though his hair was tousled and he was wearing a stretched out Mets t-shirt, he managed to look even scarier than the two armed robbers Peter had just webbed up. But Yasmin stepped in front of him, caressing his shoulders even though her own were still trembling. 

“Papá, está bien. ¡En serio! Este es el que me salvó. Está bien.” 

Slowly, Mr. Delmar dropped the bat. He pulled Yasmin into a tight hug, burying his face in her hair. Peter tried to give them as much privacy as he could. He kicked the glass shards closer to the exit, nudging them along quickly with his shoes in lieu of a broom. Then he picked up the discarded pillow cases. The one with the money he placed back on the counter. The snacks he began putting back in place as best he could. 

“Who are you?” 

Peter looked up from the bag of jalapeño chips he’d been studying. Mr. Delmar was watching him warily, but not as worried as he had been before. He was still holding his daughter in his arms. At his words, she turned to look at him too—dark eyes wide, with her bottom lip pulled between her teeth. Peter quickly cleared his throat. 

“Uh, nobody really. I was just, you know, swinging by. Thought you could use a hand.” 

Their eyes flitted to the criminals currently restrained in their store, and he grimaced behind the mask. 

“I don’t think you have to worry about these guys. You should totally still call the cops, though. This stuff, it—it kinda dissolves? Not for a couple hours, of course, but uh…you definitely need to get these guys out of here.” 

“Hey, you’re the vigilante,” said Mr. Delmar. “Isn’t that your job?” 

“Vigila—woah! No, I’m just, uh…you know, I’m not really equipped to do the—the removal part? I just do the catching. You know, sorta…pew pew!” 

He mimed shooting with his hands, accidentally shooting another wad of web across the room. It knocked the middle can of soda out of a precariously organized pyramid, which—miraculously—stayed standing. Peter gaped, quickly shut his mouth even though they couldn’t see it, and crossed his arms impressively. He couldn’t have done that again if he’d been trying. 

“Well, here.” 

Mr. Delmar kissed Yasmin on the head and moved behind the counter. The moment Peter saw him reaching for the pillow case, he scrambled back. 

“Oh, no, no, no! I—I don’t want your money!” 

“You saved my daughter,” he insisted. “You saved my store, my family. Please.” 

“No, really, Mr. D—uh—Mister. I just wanted to be uh…helpful.” He nodded with finality, desperately looking for something to change the topic. “I—I’m sorry about this door, though! The lock really looks toast.” 

“I’ll have someone fix it tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, but for tonight…” 

Peter flicked his web shooters again. The door filled up with web after web, spanning the space where the glass panel had been and locking the warped doorframe in place. He stood back, looking at his work with pride. 

“There you go! That should hold you over until someone can come and look at it. It’s pretty strong, if I do say so myself. Nobody’s getting in or out of that one! Ha…ha, and uh…that means I…can’t…leave…” 

Someone let out a breath of laughter, and he turned to see Yasmin watching him in awe. Not for the first time, Peter was sincerely thankful his face was hidden behind a thin layer of cotton. 

“There’s a back door through the kitchen,” Mr. Delmar instructed. “Are you sure you won’t…?” 

“Yeah, really, I’m fine. Uh—well, can I keep the chips?” 

They both stared at him, and Peter tried to keep his cool. It worked for everyone else, right? 

“Sure,” Mr. Delmar said, clearly amused. “You can keep the chips.” 

“Sweet. Well, have a good night, sir!” 

“Hey, thank you. Can you show him out, mija? I’m keeping an eye on these two.” 

Yasmin nodded, swiftly kissing her father on the cheek before she ducked through to the kitchen. Peter waved at the two criminals, gave a small salute to Mr. Delmar, and followed her back. 

It barely could have been ten minutes, but the streets seemed way darker than they had before. A breeze blew through the alley, washing them with the scent of rain and wet garbage. Peter didn’t mind. He was more concerned with the way Yasmin shivered, her dark curls blowing across her face. 

“Hey, um…are you gonna be alright?” 

“Me?” She laughed, her voice still unsteady. “I should be asking you that. You just took down two guys with guns. I just…screamed.” 

“Well, in your defense, they probably caught you off guard. I already knew what was going on when I stepped in.” 

“Why did you? Step in?” 

She was staring at him again, that same look on her face. Peter realized somewhat nervously that was the look girls were supposed to give superheroes. That was the way people looked at Iron Man, Captain America, Thor. No one had ever looked at him like that before. Sure, he’d saved a couple of people, but it was usually sidewalk stuff. He could swing away before anyone started asking questions. That wasn’t an option in the bodega. The thought probably should have made him worried, but he only felt a slimy knot of pride in his stomach. 

“I just wanted to make sure you didn’t get hurt,” he said finally. 

Yasmin smiled. 

“You just saved my life. I can’t even…thank you.” 

“Hey, don’t worry about it. Really. Just keep selling these jalapeño chips, alright?” 

With a rush of adrenaline, he ran at the opposite wall of the alley. He scaled up the bricks, back flipped, and launched back to land on the side of the building. He was about to jump when Yasmin called for him again. 

“Wait! Are—Are you seriously not gonna tell me who you are?” 

“I told you,” he said, clinging upside down to the wall. “I’m no one.” 

“I can’t tell my friends that no one saved me.” 

“Why not? Worked for Odysseus.”

She giggled, and Peter swore he would’ve been able to hear the sound from Brooklyn. 

“Watch it. Otherwise I’m just gonna call you the Amazing Smart-Ass.” 

“I don’t know. That’s got a ring to it.” 

“Seriously, though,” said Yasmin. She wrapped her arms around her torso, and stared up at him in the night. “What do you want people to call you?” 

Peter hesitated. He liked working in obscurity. He loved helping people, stopping crime, but he was well aware that the longer he did it, the harder it was going to get. When you made a name for yourself, the police took notice, the press took notice, and the bad guys took notice. It would get a lot harder to just sneak out every day and go swinging down Park Drive when people were actually looking for him. 

But hanging upside down, that knot of pride was slowly sliding its way into his throat. It pushed out the words against his better judgment. 

“You can call me Spider-Man.”

THREE

[flabbergabst]

Captain canary. What would have happened if Snart had been on the mission in Nanda Parbat in 1960 to get Sara back from the league

Thank you for this prompt!!

For me topull this prompt off, let’s imagine that the Chronos arc wasn’t in this episodejust to put Leonard in the Waverider when they figured out that Sara’s in NandaParbat.

Reminder

“What’s the one place in 1958 she already called home?”

“The League of Assassins.”

Leonard tried his hardest not to show his concern. Sara hasbeen the only person in the ship who didn’t look at him like a criminal is theonly thing that he is. And she has thanked him privately about how he talkedher down in Russia. And it was then that he realized that he has made it hismission to prove to this badass assassin that she is not the monster that shethinks she is.

His mind was away as the group discuss how to locate Sara.

Gideon then chimed in. “There is a mention of a Ta-eral-Sahfer.”

“That’s Sara’s League of Assassins name,” Leonard blurtedout, to the group’s surprise.

Rip just raised an eyebrow then shook his head. “Right,” hesaid. “According to the Shadow Record, she joined the League in 1958.”

Len proceeded to sit on the jumpseat he usually occupies. Heclosed his eyes, trying not to imagine how the past two years have been for his…friend.

“Are we going or what?” the agitation in his voice wasn’t missedby the crew.

“Gideon,” Rip ordered, “chart a course for Nanda Parbat.”

They infiltrated Nanda Parbat. It was easier than whatLeonard expected, given that it is supposedly guarded by assassins. Seemed likenone of these black-clad fighters were up to Sara’s caliber.

Rip decided that he was the best person to look for Sara. Itwould’ve been more effective it Kendra were to do it.  Or him.

The next time they saw their captain, Sara was behind him andthey were being surrounded by assassins.

“Sara, what the hell?” Jax said, frustrated by how his friendeasily gave them up to the assassins.

She had a straight face, looking at all of them then stoppingat Leonard. He noticed her jaw clench. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

Snart didn’t drop the gaze and neither did she.

It was Jax who voiced out. “Yeah, we’re starting to get that.”

“We came here to rescue you,” Ray said, still as perky asever.

Sara’s fierce blue eyes left Snart’s and moved to Ray. “I don’tneed to be rescued. I’ve found peace here.”

“Peace with the League of Assassins?” Leonard said andscoffed. “You’re not a killer anymore. You’re not Ta-er al-Sahfer. Not anymore.You’re better than this.”

“And you’ll rot in here.”

That was Sara’s only reply. And before they know it, theywere being pulled and brought into dungeons and were tied by chains.

The team was discussing something about time-drift. That whensomeone spends too long in a timeline alien to them, they lose themselves. Andhe’s known enough from their card games and late night conversations to saythat Sara is trying to be the best version of herself. And he wouldn’t want tolose that.

Len’s eyes could’ve fallen from how much he’s been rollinghis eyes hearing the conversations of the team. Then their mighty captainwanted to talk to the Demon himself. Because of course that’s how the Legendsroll.

Their hands were still in shackles as they faced Ra’s alGhul. Sara was also there, not bothering to look at them.

And Rip-freaking-Hunter demanded a trial by combat to getSara back in the team.

“Do we have an accord?” Rip asked Ra’s al Ghul, who had asmall smile on his face.

The assassin nodded. “May victory be yours.”

Oh. He wasn’t the one to fight Rip.

“You see,” Ra’s replied, “I may choose any champion I wish,as may you.”

He chose Sara and she nodded in acceptance, eyes still notgracing the people she once called part of her team.

Rip looked at the line-up of Legends chained together,assessing who he’d choose as his champion.

“I’ll do it,” Leonard immediately offered.

Ray instantaneously complained. “You haven’t had very muchexperience in swordsmanship, Snart!”

Sara was now looking at him. Her face unreadable from anyemotion.

Rip then nodded at Leonard. “I choose Mr. Snart as mychampion.”

One assassin guarding them removed the chains restrainingLeonard. The crook looked at Ra’s al Ghul, who nodded towards the rack ofweapons on the wall. Sara approached the other rack on her side of the room,choosing two Chinese daos, swirling it like they’re nothing. Leonard looked athis options and reached out to a katana. A weapon he’s seen hanging on Sara’swall in her quarters.

As soon as the weapon’s on his hand, Sara marched towardshim, swinging her dao. All he heard were metals clashing and audible gasps fromthe team. Leonard was lucky. He was lucky that he spars with Sara. He was luckythat he’s seen her in action. And he’s lucky that Sara is holding back. Becauseof that, he knows there’s a crack in her former self that he can penetrate.

“You have to stop this,” Kendra begged Rip. “She’s gonna killhim!”

Rip looked at the two fighters. “Sara and Leonard have hadeach other’s backs from the beginning. He reminded Sara of her humanity once.He can do it again.”

Jax, worried that Leonard might not hold for so long, asked: “Beforeor after Sara kills him?”

“Sara,” he said, avoiding an extremely sharp sword that almostreached him. “Ta-el al-Sahfer. Or whatever you call yourself. I know you don’t wantto kill me.”

She just replied by gritting her teeth and growling as shestrikes. “Want is irrelevant,” she said coldly. “I serve Ra’s al Ghul.”

“You’re saying you don’t want a game of cards?” Leonard keptasking. “You don’t want a cold beer?”

He saw the slight pain in her eyes and in under ten seconds,Leonard felt a stinging pain on his right side. “Argh!”

She was about to strike again when Leonard dove under Sara’s outstretchedleft arm to avoid her. “Remember that move?” he said, trying to will the painaway. “You taught it to me.”

“Your teacher was excellent,” she replied, keeping up withwherever his body went.

Leonard dropped the katana to move towards the weapon rackand grabbed a weapon similar to hers. “She is,” he said.

From thinking of something to say to her, she bested Leonardwhich ended with him on the floor and on top of him, using her knees to preventthe man from getting up.

Kendra was screaming now and so was Jax. Asking her to letLeonard go.

“Sara,” Leonard said, feeling his blood drip from the woundon his side. “You are not a murderer or an assassin.”

She was murmuring something in Arabic that Leonard didn’t understand.He didn’t want to think that Sara was saying a little prayer before she killshim. So he gave it another shot. “You’re the White Canary! Remember that! Ahero in the light. Trying her best, for better or for worse. That’s you, Sara.And you have to remember that!”

It was supposed to be the final blow. But her blade hit thefloor instead of his face. Len didn’t even realize his eyes were closed. Andwhen he opened them, he saw Sara—the Sara he knows and cares for—eyes shiningwith unshed tears.

A soft whisper escaped her lips. “Len, I’m sorry.”

She sagged onto his body, clutching his hand as her ownpushed into his bloody right side. They don’t know how long it was, but soonRip was there, helping them up.

Ra’s al Ghul released Sara and the team. The walk to the shipwas slow, considering the weight of what happened earlier. And for Leonard, itwas the amateur stitch he got in the fortress.

The team went ahead, leaving Sara and Leonard behind.

“I thought you were dead,” Sara softly said, assistingLeonard from walking.

Len scoffed. “This team is hard to kill.”

“I don’t think so,” Sara replied, her tone lighter than whenthey found her. “I could’ve killed you if I wanted to.”

He nodded, remembering her eyes during their swordfight. “Butyou didn’t,” he said. “Don’t tell me my charmed worked under all your assassintraining.”

She laughed. And Leonard guessed that it was her firstgenuine laughter in maybe two years. “Yeah, Snart. I just thought you were toohandsome to kill.”

Two years is impossible to bring back.

But bringing Sara back seems achievable. And Snart will makeit his personal mission to remind her of who she was and where she was headingbefore being left behind.

Hoping this was alright.

[planetsam]

Can you do some Mileven grown up stuff? Maybe on Jancy's wedding?

He’s going to murder whoever is calling.

Mike cuddles Sarah in one arm, desperate to calm her and grabs the phone with his other, wedging it under his shoulder. The ringing ending sends Sarah into a new fit of tears and there’s just no winning this one. Which is another reason for him to kill the caller.

“Your roof better be on fucking fire,” he hisses, rubbing circles over his daughter’s back.

“Don’t curse in front of the baby!” Nancy scolds and Mike hisses through his teeth, “God Mike—“

“What do you want?” he demands through gritted teeth.

“Oh,” she says in a voice that makes him nervous with how deceptively light it is, “I wanted to tell you that I’m getting married.”

“You’re what?!”

Sarah starts crying again and Mike isn’t sure if he wants to kill his sister or straight up die himself. A hand skims over his shoulders and he relinquishes his hold on Sarah who wails for only a moment longer before stopping in her mother’s arms. Eleven smiles over her shoulder at him, waving off his apology before walking with their daughter to the couch. Mike turns back to the phone.

“Mom’s going to be thrilled,” he says.

“Shut up,” Nancy shoots back.

“Seriously. And Grams—I can’t believe you’re giving up your rock ’n’ roll, living-in-sin lifestyle. What’s next? House in the suburbs? Nancy Wheeler are you moving to the cul-de-sac?”

“Mike I swear to God, I will un-invite you,” she threatens even if he can hear the smile in her voice, “but El is still invited and I want Sarah to be the flower girl.”

“She can barely walk,” Mike says.

“I can carry her,” El chimes in happily from the living room.

“My wife says she’ll carry her,” he relays.

“That’s perfect!” Nancy says, “we’ll be getting married soon I think—Jonathan it’s going to be soon right?”

Mike grins at that. Nancy could say she wanted to go to City Hall and get married in their pajamas and Jonathan would be there. He doesn’t need to hear the older man agree to know it’s happening. He catches his wife’s eye and rolls his own. She smiles but he gets the unmistakable sensation of being lightly elbowed, a silent command to behave.

“Yes, it’s going to be soon,” she says.

“Congratulations,” he says, “I can’t wait.”

Soon is actually two weeks from the first phone call.

Two weeks in which he somehow agrees to host the damn thing. Because Nancy ‘I’m never getting married’ Wheeler has always dreamed of getting married in her childhood home. Which happens to be the house that he and his family live in. Of course he agrees before she fully forms the request, but at the end of week one when he’s got Will inspecting his ovens for the cake and his mother trying to find places for every trellis, he might be regretting it. Slightly.

“It’s going to be a beautiful wedding,” Eleven says, curling up in his lap. Mike nods, “and I’ll clean up afterwards, like that,” she adds, snapping her fingers.

“Huh? No, no way. We’ll get them to clean up,” he says, “they’re wrecking the house, that’s the least they could do.”

“You’re right,” Eleven deadpans, “this is the most wrecked the house has gotten. It’s not like you smuggled a telekinetic girl in here when you were a kid or anything—“

“Okay I get your point,” he says rolling his eyes.

Eleven smiles and nuzzles closer and okay, maybe Mike can see this being worth it.

It is.

He knows it the second the car arrives.

Mrs. Byers and his mom have forbidden them from seeing the place, wanting it all to be perfect. Nancy and Jonathan have both agreed, after they realized insisting that it didn’t have to be perfect was a waste of breath. Even so Nancy takes one look at the house and chokes up with emotion at the sight of it being decorated like it is for them. Jonathan gets out of the car and puts an arm around her as she wipes under her eyes.

“I smell cake! Uncle Will! Uncle Will!”

Jonathan doesn’t miss a beat as he catches his son before he can break the doors down. The boy hollers in protest, which is fair. Mike knows Will’s a spectacular baker. The twins are a lot more careful when they get out of the car. They are older, or maybe it’s just the fact that they’ve got a wedding dress between them. It’s in no danger of hitting the ground but the maneuver past everyone into the house.

“Don’t you two look wonderful,” Mrs. Byers says.

“Thank you nana,” they chime in unison.

“We need to hang this up.”

“We don’t want it to wrinkle or we’ll never get mom in it.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want that,” Mrs. Byers says, winking at him before leading them to Nancy’s old room to put the dress up. They all eventually make their way inside and Mrs. Byers wastes no time in hugging Nancy tightly, “we’re so excited for you two.”

“Thank you,” Nancy says, “we’re excited too.“

Mike privately thinks it’s a little hilarious. He has to avoid Will’s eyes or he’ll start to crack up for real. They’re hugging like there aren’t three kids and nearly two decades of cohabitation between Nancy and Jonathan. Of course Nancy has been determined to do things her way. Her way involves her life in New York City, her three kids and Jonathan. Marriage just hasn’t been in it yet. Which is funny because Mike swears the older boy would have married his sister the day they went to New York if she’d agreed to it.

He finds his sister upstairs in her old room—now Sarah’s room—already in her wedding dress. It’s not pure white, but rather it’s the color of fresh cream. It makes her look softer. Her hair is partially down but partially up, caught in a pair of blue combs. They’re both adults, both grown ups with kids, but it’s still insane to see. She catches his gaze in the mirror and sticks her tongue out like they’re twelve again.

“Nancy Wheeler becoming an honest woman, never thought I’d live to see the day.”

“Mmm,” she gives a little hum and his eyes narrow suspiciously. He can see how calm she looks and Nancy is rarely calm. Even today, even with everything she’s pulled off, “I suppose—“

“When?” He demands, closing the door. Her face drops in complete exasperation, “when?” He repeats.

“Right before the twins,” she says.

“They’re ten,” he says. Nancy shrugs, “you’ve been married for ten years?! What the—“ he finds himself pinned with her hand clapped over his mouth. That doesn’t stop him from glaring or from wrenching her hand down, “what the fuck?”

“I was a little hysterical and Jonathan was doing that shifty thing and when he admitted he wanted to be married before the kids came I agreed—on the condition that we didn’t tell anyone.”

“You’ve been married for ten years. Will’s been my brother in law for ten years,” he realizes aloud and Nancy makes a noise of exasperation, “so at my wedding when everyone was like ‘when are you getting married’ and you were like ‘never’ that was a lie?”

“Yes.”

“Nancy!”

“Well it’s not like they would have cared about anything I said,” she dismisses, “it was your wedding—“ the door opens and closes, “get in here,” Nancy orders and Jonathan comes in, with a hand clapped over his eyes, “he knows,” she says through gritted teeth.

“It’s still bad luck—“

“Jonathan!”

He drops his hand and if Mike had any doubts they vanish. He shakes his head and heads out of the room, wondering what the hell is happening. It’s easy to locate his girls, El is on the porch swing in the backyard with Sarah cuddled against her. She’s kept her hair short and Sarah’s is too short to do anything but stick straight up. His daughter grins toothlessly at him as El turns her older-than-they-should be gaze towards him.

“This isn’t a wedding it’s a vow renewal,” he says numbly.

“Oh,” she says simply.

“Oh?” He repeats turning to her, “we’re putting on a wedding under false pretenses!”

“But everything’s lovely,” she argues back, twisting Sarah’s little baby hand from the twinkle lights she’s making a grab for, “and the family’s all here too,” she frowns at him, “what’s really wrong?”

“How could she not invite us to her wedding?” He explodes, “we promised—“ he stops at the look his wife is giving him, “she came to our wedding,” he argues.

“Yes but so did everyone,” she says, dropping her head to his shoulder.

It’s a low blow, since she knows that all she has to do is touch him for him to find it very difficult to argue. He wants to argue, but Sarah’s already being pressed into his chest and it’s not like he can argue without upsetting her. And he doesn’t want to do that. She wraps her fingers in his shirt and he sighs because it’s really hard to be upset when that happens. Even before El starts playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck and he can feel her wedding ring against him.

“Still—“

“Still it’s nice we can be there for them like this,” she says, “and that Sarah gets her family here.”

He looks at the top of her head. El smiles up at him.

“That isn’t what I was going to say,” he points out.

“No,” she replies, twirling a strand of his hair around her finger, “you were going to say how much you’re looking forward to dancing with me.”

“Goes without saying.”

“And sneaking off.”

“I mean—“

“Since,” she continues, “we have all these phenomenal babysitters here,” she coos at their daughter, who has yet to spend a night away from either of them, “and I’m sure everyone will be so busy looking at the newlyweds, they won’t miss a bunch of already married people sneaking off.”

He really, really can’t argue with that logic. Definitely not when she’s wearing the kind of lilac dress she’s wearing.

“I don’t get why they have to try to be so edgy,” he says finally.

“Not everyone can marry someone with superpowers,” she points out.

“I mean,” he wraps an arm around her, “lucky me, right?”

She beams up at him in a way that makes him very glad he’s gotten to wear a wedding ring matching hers for the past few years. He’s still not thrilled with the idea of Jonathan marrying Nancy and neither of them saying anything, but sometimes he wonders if instilling him with calm isn’t a superpower that El has and forgot to mention.

“I don’t know how they kept it a secret,” he says.

“You hid me in your basement,” she points out.

“It’s our basement now,” he counters and looks at Sarah, “don’t get any ideas,” he warns her as Eleven smiles against his chest.

He glances up as Will comes outside. He and El have one of those silent conversations he tries not to be jealous of, but it’s pretty clear Will’s more in on the secret. Sarah burbles and reaches for her favorite uncle and he relinquishes his hold on her. Will always smells like cake, it’s not his fault. Sarah goes off with him and her cousins, leaving Mike’s arms free to wrap fully around his wife.

“Seriously, how did they keep it a secret?”