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shuadotcom · 2 years ago

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Smile | KSJ

🎾 Summary: Kim Seokjin has been a professional tennis player for years. He has countless tennis trophies in his penthouse in South Korea and has won two grand slams. He’s even in talks to participate in the upcoming Olympics. He’s dated a handful of well-known people with no problem and is confident to the point of irritation to those around him.

Kim Seokjin has all of these things and has done so many things and yet…for some reason he’s unable to simply ask you for your number or get to know you. 🎾 Pairing: Pro Tennis Player!Seokjin x Barista Afab!Reader 🎾 Genre & AUs: Fluff, strangers to lovers au, cafe au (kinda), sports au 🎾 Rating: PG 🎾 Warnings: Like 3 curse words 🎾 Words: 2.8k 🎾 Note: This is for the Catch of the Century: Dirty 30 collab hosted by the amazing @joheunsaram! ❤️ This was supposed to be a completely different fic with a bunch of angst and whatnot but 1) it’s been missing Seokjin soft hours over here lately and 2) life sucks and I wanted some cute, lighthearted fluffy shit to get me through it lol. The songspo for this is You Don’t Know My Name by Alicia Keys and it's more a loose, roles reversed version of that kinda. This started as an oldddddd fic of mine that I rewrote. I’ll probably still write the other fic I had in mind in the future when I’m feeling angsty again.

A huge thank you to @hobipaint for being my first beta and helping me expand on a few details for the better of the premise and plot and thank you to @snoozeagustd for being my second beta and making sure my jumble of words made sense - thank you x500 both of you!! 🫶🏽 And thank you to the always iconic @kithtaehyung for this absolutely phenomenal banner!! ❤️ 🎾 Net tag: @kflixnet

Kim Seokjin has been a professional tennis player for years. He has countless tennis trophies in his penthouse in South Korea and has won two grand slams. He’s even in talks to participate in the upcoming Olympics. He’s dated a handful of well-known people with no problem and is confident to the point of irritation to those around him.

Kim Seokjin has all of these things and has done so many things and yet…for some reason, he’s unable to simply ask you for your number or get to know you.

It’s embarrassing for him really, yet the courage to do anything about it evades him at each opportunity. He’d never been a believer in love at first sight, that is until he first set his sights on you.

It’s close to sundown when he and his team arrive in the country for a week-long doubles match and everyone is in need of caffeine before meeting with some sports magazine for a last-minute but important interview. Seokjin, his match partner Taehyung, and the rest of his entourage bustle into the cafe that sits across from their hotel, thankful for its close proximity.

His manager Namjoon takes everyone's orders as they all occupy a few tables by the register and Seokjin accompanies him to place the order. He’s fumbling with his phone, not paying attention too much until he hears the sound of your voice in front of them.

“Hey, what can I get you?”

Seokjin’s eyes shoot up to look at you and he visibly falters, thankful that Namjoon is the one doing the talking.

You catch his eye immediately as you look at the two of them with what he would describe plainly as a bored expression on your beautiful face. He watches your perfect lips as they move, speaking with Namjoon and typing the orders into the register with delicate hands. He can’t help but eye your body as you shift over to the various coffee machines, noting the focused look on your face as you work.

Seokjin’s ears strain to listen as you hum while you work. It takes him a second, but he works out that you’re humming a Coldplay song - albeit off-key but he definitely recognizes it.

Once the drinks are made, you call out Namjoon’s name and Seokjin walks with him to collect them. You simply toss them a ‘have a good night’ and move to clean up your workstation.

The interaction is so normal and so casual he can hardly believe it. Seokjin can’t recall a time when he’s gone into a restaurant or other establishment and gotten recognized instantly by not only patrons but employees themselves. This is the first time in a long time that Seokjin hasn’t been hounded for a photo and autograph and it’s refreshing and a little exciting to be a stranger to someone again.

Especially someone as beautiful as you.

The next morning, Seokjin gets up early before he has to leave for the first match and crosses the street to the busy coffee shop. He goes simply on a whim, muttering a small prayer that you’ll be there. Luck is on his side when he looks behind the counter to see you fussing with the pastries by the register, not having noticed him come in.

He adjusts his tennis outfit and takes a breath as he makes his way to the register. You hold up a finger to him as you seem to put the finishing touches on a display of muffins. When you finally turn towards him, he holds his breath, wondering if now that it’s daytime, with the sun shining brightly into the cafe window if you’ll recognize him, especially in what’s essentially his work uniform.

And to his relief, you don’t.

“Hi, what can I get you?” Your tone is flat but your voice is still as melodic as it sounded last night - like a favorite song he hasn’t heard in so long. You look at him with an intense gaze, making Seokjin uncharacteristically squirm a little under your gaze. He clears his throat and smiles wide enough that it reaches his eyes.

“What do you think is best?” He asks in his best English. He can’t help but silently thank Namjoon for helping him brush up on the language before the trip.

You hum and turn to scan the menu. “The caramel latte is pretty good,” you suggest with a tiny shrug.

“I'd like that, please. A medium.” He watches as you type his order into the register before you direct him where to swipe his credit card.

“Name?” You question, poised to write on the cup in your hand.

“Jin,” he says quickly, not putting much thought into his answer. It’s the first time he hasn’t had to use a completely fake variation of his name while his face is concealed and it’s almost exhilarating. You simply scribble that on the cup in your hand and turn away to make his drink.

Seokjin watches you work from his seat, doing his best not to make it obvious he’s throwing glances your way. You’re humming again as you assemble his drink, this time it’s one of his favorite songs by The Fray. The tune sounds half a beat too fast, but he still catches it and he loves your rendition of it.

When you call his name and he approaches to retrieve his latte, your fingers brush as he takes his cup from you and Seokjin feels the tips of his ears turn bright red, but you don’t seem too phased, and instead, you go to wipe down the counter behind you, not paying him any more mind. Not even when the tv hanging behind the register shows a commercial for the televised match he’s playing shortly and a clip of him from a previous game shows up for a few seconds. No one seems to care, not even you, and Seokjin actually loves that.

Between how effortlessly beautiful you look in your jeans and black apron and the fact that he can approach you as just a normal guy, Seokjin realizes you’re still on his mind as the day drags on, which is how he finds himself back inside the cafe later that afternoon after winning his first match, and yet again that evening after he and the rest of his team come back from dinner.

That night, you’re not on shift alone, so before he walks into the coffee shop, he digs through his bag for a mask, donning it before heading inside.

“Welcome in!” Your co-worker behind the register greets him when he enters.

Your head turns to glance at him from your spot in front of a blender. If you recognize him from his earlier trips you don’t show it, going back to your task at hand.

“What can I get for you?” The bubbly girl asks, a megawatt smile beaming at him. Her name tag reads ‘Krystal’ and he notes how he’s never seen your nametag full on to read your name.

“Um, a medium caramel iced latte please.”

She nods, inputting his order. Once he pays and is waiting for his order, he observes you chatting with your co-worker so he doesn’t get to hear a tone-deaf version of a song he knows.

Instead, Seokjin is graced with something even more endearing: a smile from you.

Each time he’s seen you, you take orders and make drinks with a neutral, unchanging expression. Not once do you crack a real, carefree smile or even so much as a smirk. Your mouth is either in a straight line or turned down when you seem to be concentrating, but the corners of your mouth never find their way up.

Part of Seokjin thinks he’s staring too much while the other part of him doesn’t care and instead memorizes your smile. The perfect curve of the corners of your mouth, mirth twinkling in your eyes like stars. The shape of your velvety-looking lips as they stretch wide and the perfect roundness of the apples of your cheeks. It’s the kind of smile that feels like a warm ray of sun on cold skin or a freshly baked pie straight out of the oven. It’s the type of smile that makes Seokjin forget any other smile he’s ever had thrown at him, and the type he’ll never forget.

The way in which your face lit up still lingers when he collects his drink and long after you’ve dropped the expression, resorting back to your default look.

The need to see you smile again is mighty as Seokjin decides right then and there that he wants to be the reason you genuinely smile and yearns for you to direct it at him.

Seokjin isn’t trying to be creepy - really he’s not. You just so happen to be the most beautiful person he’s ever seen and he wants so badly to strike up a conversation with you and learn more. Your likes, dislikes, your favorite ice cream flavor, your favorite movies, and your least favorite genre of music.

It’s why he goes back to the cafe five more times during the week between matches and other schedules, hoping to approach you with more than his coffee order.

He doesn’t because whenever you turn to look at him, eyes trained on him, mouth moving to ask what he wants, all of a sudden, he forgets any of those things and instead it’s business as usual, except sometimes he throws in a small pastry, but that’s all the additional words he can get out.

It’s silly really, but here he is, at the age of thirty stumbling over words simply because a pretty girl is looking at him. He kicks himself each time he leaves the coffee shop, telling himself to try again next time.

Seokjin and Taehyung win the doubles match at the end of the week which puts Seokjin in the best mood he’s been in all week. He wakes up after a night of celebratory partying and shuffles across the street once more after getting ready for the day.

As has become his routine, he’s sitting at his usual table located to the left of the cash register, one table away from the front door. He sips on his latte and alternates between scrolling on his phone and keeping an eye on you as you peer down at your phone. The cafe is quiet, only two other people immersed in their personal bubbles with drinks already in hand. He sees the delicate quirk of your mouth as you type, the expression tugging his heartstrings.

It’s his last day in the country and he’s still riding high on his adrenaline from yesterday’s win. Today is the day he’ll talk to you - really talk to you.

“You do know that what you've been doing is creepy, right?” Seokjin nearly leaps out of his seat upon hearing the sudden voice from behind him. He turns to see Namjoon staring back at him.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Seokjin says, matter-of-factly.

Namjoon scoffs and slides into the seat across from him. “Oh, please, we all know you’ve been sneaking off. It wasn't until Taehyung decided to follow you that we knew you were here. You’re not as sneaky as you think you are, you know." Namjoon turns slightly to glance at you while you take the orders of a few women in business suits. “She’s cute.”

Seokjin watches you effortlessly move behind the counter as another customer enters and approaches to order, ignoring the flash of jealousy he feels when Namjoon compliments you. “Okay, fine yeah, I’ve been here. I just…god she’s beautiful.”

“Have you talked to her?”

As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, he does, with a quiet groan. “No. She’s just…I don’t know. Whenever I get up there all I can stutter out is my stupid coffee order. I’ve never had trouble talking to attractive people before but she’s different and she gets me all flustered like a dumb teenage boy.”

Namjoon chuckles, giving his client and friend a sympathetic look. “That is very unlike you. Kim Seokjin? Speechless and unable to flirt with someone? Who are you and what have you done with my favorite self-absorbed hyung?”

Rolling his eyes, Seokjin chooses to ignore Namjoon’s teasing. “I just…I wish I could get to know her. She’s so beautiful and has the most breathtaking smile I’ve ever seen. Oh, and she also has such a similar taste in music to me. I can always tell what she’s humming to herself when she works. And her drinks are always perfect too. Always the right amount of ice to everything else ratio and never too much sweetener. And not once has she seemed to recognize me or lose her mind to talk to me - hell I don’t even think she knows who I am! Do you know how rare that is? To like someone who doesn’t know me as the sensational tennis player Kim Seokjin and simply Jin who orders iced lattes is…something I’ve missed so badly.”

Eyebrows raised at Seokjin’s confession, Namjoon lets him finish. “As sweet as that sounds, I don’t think being the strange man who's been watching her all week is a great look for you.” Namjoon jokes, giving Seokjin a look over his glasses. “Now, come on. We have to head out for the shoot in ten minutes.” Seokjin frowns but finishes his drink before getting up and following Namjoon out of the cafe, glancing at you once more over his shoulder.

By the time he and Taehyung finish their winners’ photoshoot, it’s late afternoon and Seokjin hasn’t stopped thinking about you. He and the team are set to be on a plane back to South Korea right after returning to the hotel to get their belongings, but Seokjin can’t just leave the country without one last visit and one last attempt at talking to you.

“Seokjin! We have to leave for the airport shortly!” His stylist calls to his retreating back as everyone piles out of the SUV dropping them off in front of the hotel.

“I know, just give me five minutes!” He holds up his hand as he crosses the street and beelines for the familiar cafe.

As usual, you’re there. There are only four other people in the shop, either typing away on their laptops or phones, but none of them look up when he enters. Seokjin makes eye contact with you as he approaches the counter, but before he can open his mouth, you beat him to it.

“Medium iced caramel latte, right?” You ask, already inputting his order into the register in front of you.

He simply blinks back at first. “Oh, yes please.” He smiles at you, waiting for his queue to swipe his card. You remember him. You remember his order. He’s acutely aware of the way his heart leaps in his chest and the desire to let out a loud cheer in the middle of the coffee shop is strong, but he contains himself.

This is the last time he very well may see you for the rest of his life. Seokjin is about to walk away from the most gorgeous human he’s ever laid eyes on and even until the end, he’s too chickenshit to even ask for your number. The mere thought of getting rejected by you makes him want to shrivel up and float away. Not that he hasn’t been rejected before, but if it’s you, the beautiful stranger from the coffee shop with the smile like a siren’s song that has unknowingly captured his heart? He’ll never be able to get that out of his head.

In the end, the best thing he can even think to do is to grab a napkin and a pen from his bag before he can talk himself out of it.

“Jin,” you call out his name and he has to force his legs to walk over to the pick-up counter.

“Thank you.” He bows slightly to you and slides the napkin across the counter. He wants to say so much and let you know just how much of an effect you have on him, but he can’t. He can only hope that this is enough.

You watch the man leave the cafe, almost afraid to see what he’s written. You aren’t oblivious to the fact that he’s been coming in two to three times a day for the past week, always seemingly when you were on shift. He always ordered the same drink, which you had recommended, and he'd sit at the same table. He pretended to play with his phone, but you could always feel his deep brown eyes on you as you worked. At least he was respectful each time, never making you feel uncomfortable or like you were in danger.

Sure he was cute, handsome even, but you’ve perfected your poker face around attractive people so as to not show when you are, in fact, looking at them as much as they’re looking at you.

You hold the napkin in your hand and glance out of the large glass window at the front of the shop, watching the man known to you only as Jin, look both ways before crossing the street. Sighing, you open the napkin to read his words.

Hi.

Please don’t think I have bad intentions. You’re the most breathtaking person I’ve ever seen. It’s why I’ve been too scared to talk to you. I’m not from here and am flying back home today. I may never see you again, but I’ll regret this for the rest of my life if I don’t try.

Xxx-xxx-xxxx

I would love more than anything to get to know more about you, but I understand if you don’t want to text me. I’m just the guy that’s ordered the same drink from you all week.

I just want you to know that you’re beautiful. Smile and let the world see it. :)

-Kim Seokjin - the medium iced caramel latte guy

(You have great taste in music by the way)

These past few weeks for you have been one of the absolute worst. Life has been testing you in more ways than one, and anything that could go wrong for you, definitely has. The last thing you’ve wanted to do was show up to work, but here you are, day in and day out, extra shifts and all. Everything has been shitty and terrible and the urge to disappear has been strong.

The napkin in your hand with the sweet note from a kind stranger makes your stomach flutter though. You can’t remember the last time that someone who wasn’t a friend or a family member made you feel so warm. You don’t even mind that he’s probably heard the off-key humming you have a habit of doing while working if his last comment is any indication.

Your head whips up, looking out of the window at the front of the cafe and you can see Seokjin standing across the street, staring right at you. He raises his hand and gives a small wave before getting into the black SUV parked next to him and you watch as it pulls away.

Right on cue, the tv behind the counter catches your eye. The sports channel plays every day, per the request of your boss, and usually, you don’t pay it any mind since sports aren’t normally of any interest to you, but a familiar face comes on the screen at that moment. The face of the man who’s ordered the same drink you recommended to him all week pops up.

Kim Seokjin, an apparent champion in the tennis world and clearly a big deal, left you a hastily written note telling you he’s been too nervous to talk to you, the barista of a cafe he’s never been to. What is the universe even doing right now?

Seokjin stares out the window as the car takes everyone to the airport, doing his best to listen to Namjoon talk about the interviews he has once they arrive back home, but all he can think about is you. Did you throw out his note after you read it? Are you going to tell everyone what a weirdo he is? If Namjoon knew he wrote his number down for you and left it like that, he’ll never hear the end of it. Especially not if you sell his number online or give it to the press or something. Maybe he should have thought that through more. Maybe if he wasn’t such a wuss he-

His train of thought derails when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He quickly fishes out the device, frantically going to his messages.

[Unknown] Hi Mr. Stalker. Do you go around leaving your number on random napkins for every person you think is pretty?? 😉

A rush of something unfamiliar yet warm fills Seokjin’s chest when he reads your texts.

[Seokjin] No. Only the prettiest ones I’ve ever had the fortune of seeing and that’s only ever happened once.

[Seokjin] And by once I mean right now. Just saying.

[Unknown] 😂 Well I’m honored.

[Seokjin] Hi honored, I’m Seokjin 😃

[Unknown] Wow. I should block you for that…

[Unknown] But it made me laugh so I won’t. I’m Y/n, by the way. Nice to meet you Seokjin 🙂

Maybe Namjoon won’t kill him after all, Seokjin thinks as he adds your name to his contacts. Giving his number to a stranger pays off as he gets absorbed in finally talking to you, images of your face and the memory of your voice quickly filling his head. If he’s lucky, maybe one day he’ll be able to see you again and if he’s even luckier, he’ll get to see you smile again, but this time for him.

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mimi-cee-hq · 3 years ago

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Laundry Days - Aran x f!reader

Summary: Three times you picked up his underwear and one time you missed doing it.

Genres, other tags: fluff, slice of life, humour, meet cute, domestic fluff, not suggestive lol, married under 25, neighbours to married lovers ;)

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: manga spoiler

This is for @neoheros & @coophi's 2021 Summer Haikyuu!! Writing contest. (Okay I'm pretty shy at first so it feels a little scary to tag you two but here's my piece.) I was going for the married under 25 prompt but ended up doing neighbours to lovers too. :D

Don't mind me spreading the underrated characters agenda as well. lol.

*****

A few articles of clothing spilled out of the dryer and onto your feet. Oops. Your neighbour must have forgotten them. You should've checked first.

Your own damp clothes sat inside the washing machine next to it, waiting for their turn to enter the dryer. It wasn't possible now.

You sighed, retrieving the phone from your pocket and scrolling until you saw the name of the neighbour who lived a floor below you.

Ojiro Aran.

You were sure this was the right person after a second look at your texting history. Who'd bring the garbage to the curb, where the lawnmower was kept, and keeping the duplex's stairway clear were some of the conversations you had with him.

You had yet to meet the guy, but he seemed amicable enough.

After shooting him a text, you thought to give him a call instead. Perhaps he'd think a phone call was strange. However, your clothes were damp and you shouldn't leave them for long. Was he even home?

You sighed. Crouched down, you returned the clothes on the floor back into the machine. A scarf, several socks, and a knit hat made their way back inside. But what was this?

Underwear. Men's underwear.

You scrunched your nose as you lifted it from the cold, tile floor. Was that a hole in it?

Click.

"Sorry I just saw your text!" a tall, dark-skinned man blurted out as soon as the door was unlocked.

"Oh! It's alright! I only texted you a few minutes ago!" you quickly explained, waving your hands in front of you.

You shouldn't have done that. The underwear was hanging from your hand.

"Ummm…" Aran scratched his cheek, eyes retreating from you.

"Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry!" you spat out, tossing the incriminating object to him. "It just fell out of the dryer when I opened it so I went to pick it up!"

Once in his hands, he recognized it as the one with the seam coming undone. "I… umm… should probably have thrown this one out."

"Umm… yeah… you probably should." Those words slipped off your tongue before you could catch them.

"I- I guess I'll go now," Aran said hastily.

He shut the door.

You let out a breath. That was awkward. Heat continued to linger in your body and you weren't sure who was more embarrassed by the encounter.

Wait. His clothes were still in the dryer. Did you dare ask him back?

The door slowly creaked open and Aran peeked his head into the room.

"I forgot something, didn't I?" Aran sheepishly asked.

"Yeah." The corners of your mouth lifted into a smile. "Yeah, you did."

"I'm Aran by the way."

"Y/n."

You never thought this would be how you'd meet your future husband.

*****

The office chair in your apartment was a comfortable spot for folding clothes. The webcam caught your face as you chatted with Aran whose image filled the monitor.

You smiled. Your husband was winding down after a long day with the team and decided to check up on you.

"I'm alright," you told Aran. "I miss you though."

"I literally just saw you yesterday!" he said. "I miss you too."

After that fateful yet awkward encounter with him in that laundry room two years ago, you had run into each other more frequently at the front doors of your duplex. Your classes ended at similar times four out of your five school days. You were surprised he even started a conversation with you. You wouldn't have been able to bear the embarrassment. Fast forward to a confession, a kiss and a rock-embedded ring, and you got a small, snowy wedding during winter break.

It was back to the books for you now, and you dreaded it. Chores seemed much better, easier. Plus doing them for your newly-wedded husband? You got giddy about that.

You quirked your brow, lifting a familiar piece of clothing from the basket.

"Hey, I thought you threw this one out," you mentioned to Aran, dangling his underwear in front of the camera.

"I did! That's, uh, probably a different one."

"Just how old are these?"

"Hey! Wait a moment! Are you folding clothes?"

You avoided the eyes on the screen. "Maybe."

"You have your paper due in a few days! I told you I was going to do it after flying back home."

"I know…"

Aran's eyes narrowed at you, a trademark expression of his. "You're procrastinating again, aren't you?" His tone implied disapproval.

"But I'm still being productive!"

"Y/n…"

"Okay, okay. I'll stop." Your foot pushed the basket away, sliding it across the floor. Maybe you could fold them after you hung up.

Aran must have read your mind. "Show me what the laundry bin looks like."

You groaned. He saw right through you. Complying, you removed the clipped webcam off the monitor and directed it at the pile of unfolded clothes.

"It better be like that when I get home."

"Alright," you said with a pout.

"Love you."

"Love you too."

Must he stop you from doing chores? They were a simple reminder you were married to him, as if the gold on your finger wasn't enough to show you.

You were his wife.

A smile snuck into your lips whenever that thought crossed your mind. The honeymoon phase was a peculiar, strange, lovely stage.

Yet it was fleeting.

*****

You groaned as you stood in the middle of the bathroom. Aran's white track pants hung off the counter, the red t-shirt he got for free from first year college laid on top, and of course his underwear, which likely went through hundreds of washes, remained on the floor.

Great.

You rubbed your temples, your headache getting worse by the minute. It was Saturday morning, and Aran, who was nowhere to be seen, had left his mess behind.

I'll clean it up later, he would tell you. You knew his mother had spoiled him, always picking up after him. You understood why he was like this, but why couldn't he just start doing it now?

"Do you have this problem?" you asked your friend through your wireless headset.

"What problem?" she asked.

"Does your husband always leave laundry around on the floor?" You pinched the bridge of your nose. "Aran never picks up after himself."

She laughed. You weren't sure if it was because you were a young, amateur wife or if she understood all too well.

Knowing her, probably a bit of both.

"Okay two things."

You listened.

"One, don't say always or never. That's lying."

"I'm not lying," you snapped back at her. You began to regret asking her.

"Are you sure he never picks it up and always leaves it on the floor?"

You left no comment.

"Exactly."

"Okay fine, but that still doesn't solve the problem. If only he just did it, it would solve everything–"

"Number two," she interrupted.

You groaned at her and she gave an amused snort in return.

"If you weren't picking up his underwear, it means he's dead."

You were aghast.

"You know I'm right."

Still aghast.

"What? No husband, no mess."

"I can't believe I asked you for advice."

"But it's true."

"Ugh," was all you could utter. She had several years more of marriage experience than you, yet you didn't want to acknowledge it.

You hung up the phone after you finished deciding today's outing with her, but you hadn't addressed the issue in front of you. Your head throbbed again.

Sighing, you picked up the underwear.

A few minutes later, the front door opened and you dipped your head into the hallway. Aran shuffled grocery bags through the door and into the kitchen. He yawned, placing the milk, eggs, and other items into the fridge.

A familiar coffee brand peeked out of a bag on the floor. Right. You didn't have your coffee yet because there wasn't any left.

You wrapped your arms around Aran and relaxed against his broad back.

"I can't put the food away like this," he said with a chuckle.

"You left your clothes in the bathroom again."

"Oh shoot!" He dropped a bag and started towards the bathroom but you tightened your grip on him.

"I put them away already," you told him. His body relaxed and he caressed your arm around his waist.

The honeymoon phase was a fleeting phase, novel tasks turned mundane, but your love for him grew deeper still.

*****

Aran was away again, this time at Tokyo in preparation for the Olympics. He eagerly called you during breaks, wishing to see his favourite person – although your hands were full as well.

"I miss you," he told you, his smile displayed on the screen.

"And I miss picking up your underwear," you told him with a smirk.

Like clockwork, he narrowed his eyes at you with a comeback. "Why don't you say you miss me like a normal person?"

"Because I'm your wife. I'm special," you told him as he rolled his eyes. "I wish I could be there though."

"You wouldn't be able to spend that much time with me anyway," he said. "Besides, one of us needs to stay home."

"I know." You smiled.

"I gotta go," he said as Atsumu yelled in the background. Aran blew a kiss at you.

You snorted. How cheesy. You returned the kiss anyway.

Hearing a mischievous squeal behind you, you told him, "I gotta go too."

"Love you."

"Love you too."

After you hung up, you turned around and sighed. A soggy wet diaper sagged on the floor and the little guy jumping in the crib giggled at you as if he did the funniest thing in the world.

You rolled your eyes and smiled before picking up the diaper.

"Alright kid. Let's put a diaper back on you and wash your sheets."

*****

I hope you liked it. This is a little different from what I usually write but I hope you still enjoyed it!

I blame Aran's current concern for giving me this idea along with the person who suggested I write Aran fluff. (As well as the seasoned wife I know who told her husband, "If I wasn't picking up your underwear, it means you're dead." lolll.)

I hope you stick around my blog to check out my other works! My current work in progress is a fake dating Suna series. I can't believe we're on chapter 10!

If anyone is interested, I have a Google form for my taglist.

#aran x reader #aran fluff #aran fanfic #ojiro aran x reader #ojiro aran #aran ojiro #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu fluff #C/R_HQ!CONTEST #hihqnetwork #animehorizons #angelwalker’s virtues #inarizaki #inarizaki x reader

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horsesandhockeyplayers · 3 years ago

Text

When Life Gives You Lemons-- Part 5

Warnings: Mature content, abuse, rape, eating disorders, OCD, supercarsetc. Some of these things go into a bit of detail. These warnings are relevant to the whole fic, not just particular chapters.

Word Count Chapter: 3824

Word Count Total: 18,022

Author’s Note: Barbs and Lemon are back by popular demand! Thank you SO much to @hockeylvr59, @newlibrary, @itisawitchesworld, and Nora, who I can’t seem to tag. The rewrite of this fic wouldn’t have happened without all of you. Thank you for indulging my impulsivity. All of you can see Mark in action during the upcoming Olympics! Reminder, that this fic starts during the summer of 2019. I will be tagging the Avs and Lausanne HC. Also *~*~*~*~* means a POV change. Flipping between Mark and Clementine. Today we are beginning with Mark.

Part Five

*~*~*~*~*

As I watched her drive away in a car that was seriously cooler than anything my teammates drove with their European super cars and specialty SUVs, I knew I was 100% fucked.

Tine was interesting and unique and gorgeous but she had no idea she was any of those things. When she had those brief moments of confidence she was just radiant. If I told her any of this she would be the one calling me a crazy pants, but it was the truth and I hoped someday she would learn to see it. Based on what she’d shared with me during our coffee date, I could tell a number was done on her and it make me mad at mankind as a species that some obnoxious dickhead could stifle her charm and creative spirit and for whatever reason, I wanted to be the one to show her how special she was.

When she turned the corner and drove out of sight, I pulled my phone out of my pocket. The thing had been going crazy before I had just stuck my hand in my pocket and turned the damn thing off midway through coffee. I turned it back on and sure enough the team group text had blown up and a cursory swipe showed that Clementine was the main topic of conversation.

I sent a curt Fuck you guys, muted the thread, and checked my other messages. There were some from just Landy so I opened his thread to see what was so scandalous it couldn’t be in the group.

Landy: Hey, can u bring flowers on Sat?

What the fuck for?

Landy: Mel wants them for the centerpiece.

“Mel” lol ok yeah sure dot gif

Landy: The disrespect. I am your team captain and I will make you skate laps until your legs fall off.

I sighed. I honestly didn’t know how the man went from rocking someone’s shit with a cheap hit one minute to flower arranging the next. Why am I on flower duty?

Landy: Because EJ would bring like some sticks and a bird’s nest from his yard and Josty is color blind.

And out of the 40 dudes still in camp, the three of us are your only options?

Landy: No, you are my only option because you owe me for Tine’s number. Now, I preordered something at that place around the corner from you, just pick it up on the fucking way, is that too much to ask?

Fine. He was being dramatic because he was Gabe and that’s who he is, I just slid the phone back in my pocket instead of engaging, my mind turning from Gabe’s flower drama back to Clementine.

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

Turning off the treadmill, I put my hands on my knees and panted. Clementine was all I could think about. Working out usually did the trick to wipe my mind blank and exhaust me enough to stop the hamster wheel from spinning, but after an hour and a half on the stationary bike and an hour and a half on the treadmill, my body had nothing left to give and I was still thinking about Tine.

I thought about her in the shower, I thought about her making dinner, I paced around my condo unable to think of anything else. I picked up my phone a dozen times, tempted to text her, but I didn’t know what to say. The evening dragged on, I surfed Netflix for an hour before turning off the TV and staring at the black screen. The more I tried to avoid looking at my phone the more my fingers itched to pick it up, to text her, find out what she was doing. Was she walking Daze? Settled into her bed for the evening watching a show?

Finally, I gave up and left my phone on the coffee table when I went to bed. After several hours of tossing and turning, haunted by a witch with blue hair, I fell asleep.

The next day, I spent more time glancing up, looking for Clementine in the stands, than I did looking for the puck on the ice and it showed. I was missing easy passes, I couldn’t hit the net to save my life and I couldn’t defend for shit. I was in a foul mood after camp and only part of it was how I played. I didn’t see Clementine at all. Did she quit? Was she sick? Was she stuck somewhere on the side of the road because her 50 year old car died?

I was sitting in my stall, half undressed and still in my gaiters, stewing in my own sweat, when Landy started walking out of the locker room, looking like he stepped right off the page of a Swedish fashion magazine. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. He tossed me a look that said everything I already was thinking about myself, including: “I’m disappointed,” “You can do better,” “What the fuck is your problem?” “Get your head in the game, man.”

The door swung closed behind him, and it might as well have been the lid of my coffin. I was now alone in the room, and thus, like an adult, I sat wallowing in self-pity for a little while longer. My phone sat next to me on the bench and I desperately wanted to text Tine, see where she was. Instead, I dragged my tired carcass off the pine and went to shower.

The thoughts ran through my head and no matter how hot I turned up the water, I couldn’t seem to wash them away. At 30, I was considered a moderately old fart by NHL standards. There were definitely the veterans of the league, but I didn’t feel like them. Well, today I did. My legs felt like I was wearing 20lb weights on my skates, I kept squinting to see the puck, and my brain felt like it was telling my body to do things it simply couldn't do. Plenty of guys hung up their skates before even turning 30 and maybe I should have followed suit. I usually figured that existential crises were limited to those who were much smarter than I am, but maybe I was wrong about that, too.

As I walked out of the arena, I slid my sunglasses on. I will say, one of the great things about Denver is all the sunshine. It was a clear afternoon, and the sun was far in the west-- , in that hour or two before it really started to dip to the horizon and the world was covered by long shadows and golden haze. There were only a smattering of cars in the lot: a couple of them I recognized as belonging to management, but there was one that really stood out. A pink-- no, evening orchid, convertible with a white vinyl top. It took me a minute to realize my feet had stopped and were pointing back the way I came. I stood there for a long minute, trying to come up with some sort of feasible reason to go back inside. However, I hadn’t come up with anything by the time the person at the root of my obsession pushed through the doors, her trusted companion by her knee.

I couldn’t help my smile, “Hey, Lemon.”

She stopped when she was just a few feet away from me and I couldn’t read her expression, “Out of all the citrus fruits in the world you could have chosen, you couldn’t just pick the one that is actually my name?”

I offered a shrug and a scoff, chiding, “Where’s the fun in that? Plus, when you’re irritated you look like you’re sucking on lemons.”

She made a face, one that I was quite familiar with at this point, because she almost always was wearing it whenever she saw me. As if she read my mind, she threw back, “So I always look like I’m sucking on lemons when talking to you, then?”

It took everything I had not to blurt out “I’ll give you something to suck on.” Boys never grow up, we just get better at knowing our audience… sometimes. Instead I nodded, “Yes, a look I’m becoming very fond of.”

She smiled, genuinely and the world as I knew it jerked to a halt. The roaring of my pulse in my ears was making it hard to hear her and suddenly, I felt like I was in my first NHL game again and my heart was racing. Everything was simultaneously too fast and too slow.

“Barbs?” Her voice was echoey and far away from my vantage point, trapped inside my own head.

“Yeah,” I heard myself say.

She stepped into me, a cool hand lifted to press against my forehead, “Are you getting sick? You’re being weird and you played like crap today.”

Her admission that she had been there snapped me out of whatever trance I had been in. “Wait,” I stammered, “you were there?”

She dropped her hand, “Uh, yeah. I was in the rafters getting overhead shots. Even from there I could tell that you looked like you were distracted.”

Yeah, I was, looking for you was what I wanted to say, instead I just shrugged, in a manly way, I’m pretty sure, and muttered, “Lots of pressure, you know.”

She didn’t reply right away; She looked like she was turning a thought over in her head, and when she finally spoke, it was measured but genuine. “You know,” she said, “if you need to talk, I’m here for you, okay? I know a thing or two about negative self talk and having crises of confidence. It’s like… my life. And I’m not qualified to help, but I can listen AND have a whole Rolodex of people who ARE qualified to help. In fact, I’m sure the org has someone they work with, if you need it.”

I knew basically nothing about her, but I had a feeling she had suffered more in her 30 years on Earth than most people suffer in multiple lifetimes. And I thought it was beyond adorable that she mentioned a Rolodex and was talking to me like one would speak to a skittish animal - softly, and with reassurance and compassion. In that moment, her desire and willingness to help me, despite all of the shit that she herself had been through, did something to me - it was so real and pure and thoughtful and I was moved and I hoped she couldn’t read it on my face cuz I’m pretty sure I looked like the human version of the heart eyes emoji and I just couldn’t take all of the shit she’d give me for it. Instead, I took her hand and set it on my forearm, grabbing her huge suitcase she was calling a purse. “You know, I think I will be fine. I just need to know you’re watching and where you’re watching from. See? Easy peasy.”

She gave a bark of disbelieving laughter as she teased, “Ok and why is that?”

Because what you think matters to me kept running through my head in large, neon lights but I couldn’t say that so I went with, “I have to make sure you’re getting my good angles. Someone in that dressing room has to give Landy a run for his money for Most Handsome.”

Her answer this time was quick, almost as if she didn't think about what she was saying before she blurted out, “You don’t have bad angles, Barbs, I couldn’t possibly take a bad photo of you. Like, even if I tried. Besides, you have those beautiful expressive eyebrows and Landy’s ran away from his face.”

I couldn’t respond because I was pretty sure my grin was going to crack my face in two. My eyes were glued to her and, as we walked, I almost ran into a light pole. I dodged it at the last second, but the smile on her lips and the laughter shaking her chest said she caught my moment of clumsiness. “Okay,” she said, as she struggled to breathe between giggles, “You walking into a lamppost would make a terrible picture. A terribly hilarious picture. I’ll give you that.”

I was mortified, but was trying to walk it off. On a hockey team you learned to brush off the embarrassing things. If you didn’t react the boys would become bored, but if you reacted it was the new locker room game. We ambled slowly through the parking lot before I grabbed her by the hand, swinging our entwined fingers slowly between us.

She turned to face me while we walked (after checking for upcoming lampposts, to her credit) before she asked, “Are you walking me to my car, Mr. Barberio?”

My American Southern accent was admittedly awful and she’d said as much before but I wanted to see the look on her face anyway so I drawled, “Why yes, ma’am, that’s how my momma raised me.”

True to form, she blanched like she had just sucked on a lemon, groaning, “Oh my god, stop.”

I shrugged, “I can’t stop, I was born this way.”

“Born making horrible jokes and badly flirting with women?” she chirped back.

“Uh, no.” I retorted, “Born being awesome.”

She rolled her eyes, and that cute look of exasperation she got when I said something stupid or corny came over her face.

It bothered me how invested I was in this one woman. I wasn’t a player, per-se; ok, I was totally a player and never ever had any woman fucked me up this badly. Every minute of every day it felt like I was thinking about her; I wanted to know where she was and what she was doing, what her favorite foods were, the movies that made her laugh and what her middle name was and all that other shit. It was infuriating, and the cure was obviously going out and grabbing something random, but that seemed insufficient. It was the same as craving good homemade freshly-churned ice cream and only having nearly expired non-dairy sour cream in the fridge; Yeah, I could add sugar and stir it up but it wouldn’t be what I wanted, and I’d still have a craving for some fucking ice cream.

*~*~*~*~*~

Mark looked like he was far away in his thoughts and I reluctantly released his hand. I loved the texture of his arm hair, the softness of his skin and the way his muscles moved beneath my fingers. I could easily see myself stroking his arm as a stim.

I reached for my bag and that seemed to bring him out of his thoughts, “Thanks for walking me to my car.” My entire arm up to my shoulder disappeared in my bag looking for my keys. I had a little hook to hang them on top, did I use it? No. I always locked my car and threw them in the Mary Poppins bag I called a purse where they disappeared into another dimension.

His dark brown arched, and by now, I knew that it was one of his tells that he was about to say something stupid. “You know, as a woman, you should probably have your keys in your hand before you leave the building.”

As usual, my mouth was quicker than my brain and I instantly regretted it as I quipped nonchalantly, “Why? I feel safer in a dark poorly lit parking lot than I ever did at home with my ex-husband.”

I could tell that Mark was struggling to process what I’d said; he swallowed hard and I could tell he wanted to ask but he went a different route as my fingers wrapped around my keys and I fumbled to unlock my door, “But you could be attacked or raped or something.”

I held my tongue as Daze hopped into the car and I tossed my bag in after her. I slid into the driver’s seat and Mark held my door, eyes searching mine as he continued, “Seriously, Lemon.”

Sometimes, after living in trauma for a while, you forget everyone else hasn’t been and that your normal is incredibly disturbing to other people. After scads of therapy and my insular bubble of those who understand, the god’s honest truth about my shitty ex-husband is truly shitty, and it’s troubling, but it doesn’t have shock value to me anymore. You learn to detach, to make light of what you can however you can. It was real and it really happened and what happened happened, and calling it anything other than what it was is doing me a disservice. Most of the people I spend time with know that, and tolerate my moments of insanity, no matter how off color they may be. With each day that goes by I try to remember that it’s a part of my past, and no longer my present; now that I’ve acknowledged that as my truth, I’m free of it, in a way, sometimes. There’s still a lot of work to do, but a lot of coping and healing can be found in learning to laugh so you don’t cry. It might sound super fucked up, but it does help you cope. But, I forget that, especially when I’m around Earth People, I have to be a little bit more measured. Not everybody knows how to take what used to be my daily horrors in stride. Because they haven’t had to. What doesn’t kill you gives you a fucked up sense of humor.

This time, I saw the words forming in my brain but I had no way of stopping them. “Seriously, Mark,” I parroted, staring out the windshield, “that sounds like a standard Friday night for me. Or at least what my Friday nights used to be.” I didn’t risk a look up at him before I pulled the door shut. Or attempted to, he was still gripping the edge of the window.

“Clementine--” he started hesitantly, an unfamiliar tone present in his voice; it wasn’t the faux sympathy or indignant outrage or surprise or utter shock that most people responded with when they didn’t know how to handle My Shit. I didn’t know what it was at all and that was almost worse. I felt cold and my breath caught in my chest. The inches between us might have been miles. It felt like a hundred years had passed since we’d walked hand-in-hand through the parking lot, a million years since we’d laughed when he almost walked into that light post, an unfathomable number of lifetimes in a galaxy hundreds of thousands of lightyears away that we’d shared a cup of coffee and pleasant, lighthearted chitchat. Two sentences had changed everything and I could tell with every fiber of my being. I was a stranger to this person again, as he was to me. I couldn’t yet ponder the further implications of what that meant but all of a sudden everything in my immediate vicinity felt vast and scant and empty and I felt totally and utterly alone.

I pulled harder, needing to get Away From Here Immediately, and he released the door. It slammed shut and I swear I could hear it echo through what felt like the immense chasm that now existed between us. It wasn’t until I had started the car and started to pull away that I risked a glance at him in the rearview mirror. What I saw gave my inner voice a megaphone for the rest of the evening and I knew I had no hope whatsoever of getting her to shut up. Blinded by my tears, I ended up pulling into an alley between skyscrapers and Daze crawled into my lap. I hugged her and rocked until I wasn’t shaking anymore, until my bleary eyes could tell up from down and I could breathe easily enough to make the trip home.

Regardless of how much better some days are, I forget that just because that part of my life is over doesn’t mean I’m entirely done with it, or that it’s entirely done with me. I could feel its pull dragging me back down, and that night, I had no fight left in me to put up any kind of defense. Robotically, I went through my numb-out routine: sleeping pill, heavy metal, hot water, and then, hopefully, oblivion. I let the despair and the grief and the shame and the sadness suck me down and hold me under and part of me wished I could just wash away down the drain along with the scalding, soapy water that poured over me. That night, the water was ice cold by the time I was too tired to keep trying to wash away my imperfections and the voice wouldn’t shut up this time and she was still nagging me when I finally fell into a fitful sleep.

*~*~*~*~*

The rose-colored glasses I’d seen Clementine through? With those words, I physically felt them crack. As the minutes went by, the feeling settled deep in my chest and I wasn’t exactly sure how to handle it, but I was scared and angry all at once and none of those shitty things happened to me so I didn’t know why it felt like they did.

Part of me mourned the loss of her; with just a few words, she now had a metaphorical mine field around her that made her completely unattainable. She was damaged goods, and I didn’t know how to navigate around the landmines. Nothing in my life could have prepared me for that bomb drop, and I wanted to find out who this guy was and beat him into a bloody pulp. I wanted to hug her and hold her and tell her it was ok, that she wasn’t broken, but I couldn’t because she had shattered into a thousand pieces and she was still putting parts of herself back together.

It was way more than I knew how to deal with, or, sick as it made me feel to think, even wanted to. It probably made me a rat bastard, but I wasn’t qualified to deal with a woman who had been torn down to the studs and had to rebuild herself.

As she drove away, the look in her eyes haunted me when I caught a glance in the rearview mirror. Not sure what to do, I kicked a stray pebble in the empty parking lot and turned toward my truck. I took out my phone but I didn’t know who to text. Landy would know exactly who I was talking about and it sure as fuck wasn’t my place to share that information, my sister would ask 1000 questions, and so would my mom. In the end, I tossed my phone on the center console and drove home.

#Colorado Avalanche #Mark Barberio #Avs #avs imagine #colorado avalanche fic #avalanche imagine #colorado avalanche imagine #avs rpf #avs fic #lausanne hc #nhl fic #colorado avalanche #when life gives you lemons #wlgyl #clemberio

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angloie · 3 years ago

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Please more of Olympic Percy athletic trainer Annabeth AU maybe from Percy POV? I know your tags say you wrote it in 10 min but it was still so so good lol

percy jackson does not know anything about love.

in which percy and annabeth are very much into each other. its only a matter of when the other will give in at this point.

genre ; fluff :3

warnings ; swearing, suggestive themes.

author's notes ; thanks for the request! :) hope you enjoy this- i might do another part or two to this :p cont. of this <3

Percy Jackson is not an expert with love.

Contrary to the popular belief of his fans and admirers, he is not the hotshot swimmer star they perceive him to be. He is not a hot item even though the internet dubs him the internet boyfriend. He does not have people up in his twitter making thirst tweets about him.

(That last one was a lie.

We don’t talk about that here.)

It only took about— oh, I don’t know— weeks and weeks of pep talks into mirrors and late nights on google reading articles of dating advice to finally gain enough courage to ask the team’s athletic trainer out on a date. Given that his attempt was weak and probably unexpected, Annabeth still somehow agreed to go.

That fancy restaurant on the more luxurious part of the city is where Percy holds a dinner reservation for him and Annabeth on a sunday evening; seven thirty sharp. Personally, his idea of a date is a night at his place and somemovie, but Annabeth seems like the type to enjoy fancy dinners and eat guys like him for breakfast.

So he’ll take the dinner reservation.

The thing is, Percy has a little dilemma going on.

What the fuck do you do during a date?

You talk. You do things. You end the night with a smile, a suggestive compliment, and maybe— if the other enjoys it, they’ll say ‘we should totally do this again sometime!’ and end it there. That’s what this website asking for his location says anyways.

Yeah, no.

Percy finds himself asking his teammates for advice during a late afternoon practice.

“What do you do during a date?” His teammate repeats the question, “Oh! I like to invite them to my swim matches. You know, show off in front of them and everything. My charm always works on the ladies.” A curly strand of brown hair peeks from behind his slightly pointed ears.

Percy stares at him. “Uh, I'm pretty sure Annabeth’s job is to watch us swim everyday. So that’s a no.” He deadpans.

A pause.

“Then I dunno.”

And with that, Percy knows it's time to move on.

“Uh… Dates, huh?” The man in front of him ponders for a moment. “Talking about common interests always works, I guess.”

“Alright. What do you think Annabeth likes?” Percy asks him from across the locker room, gym bag shouldered and hoodie rough on his skin.

The blonde in front of him stays silent for a beat, chewing on his scarred bottom lip before looking at him. “Give me your wallet for a second.”

“What?”

“Give. Me. your. Wallet.” The man says, holding out his hand expectantly.

With a sigh, Percy rummages through his pockets before pulling the leather square out. It’s warm in his hands and the leather is soft.

The blonde then carefully places something inside of there, giving him a look he can’t quite describe and going: “Good luck.”

So in the end, asking his teammates for advice was a no.

(As expected.)

Sunday evening comes around after two restless naps and hours upon hours of preparing for the date. Percy smells of some musky cologne he can’t name. His hair has been barely touched. His clothes, despite being ironed and tailored, seem to be wrinkled and sloppy.

Perfect, wouldn’t you say?

The restaurant practically screams luxury; its floor to ceiling windows showcasing the city skyline perfectly. The dim lights give a nice tone. Classical music— not his style, but it’s whatever— plays in the background as couples eat their dinner.

Percy couldn’t feel more out of place than he feels right now.

“This is a nice place,” Annabeth remarks, eyeing the structure from her seat across from him. “I didn’t really think you’d be into this kind of setting.”

I’m not, He wants to say. This shirt is stuffy and itchy and my neck is so freaking stiff. Despite that, Percy nods through the discomfort, flashing a smile.

The date goes well.

At first, maybe.

Percy can’t help but sneak glances at Annabeth. It’s not his fault she looks so good in her clothing— black dress flattering and fitting perfectly. Is it tailored? It probably is. Why does Annabeth look so good? How did Percy score a date with her?

The conversations flow easy. It’s easy to talk to Annabeth. They talk about a lot of things; family, life outside of work, and personal life. Apparently the blonde would be taking a career in architecture if she wasn’t an athletic trainer.

“What would you be, if you didn’t take up being an olympic swimmer?” She asks with a smile as bright as the sun, palm resting on her cheek, “I’ve been curious.”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Percy thinks to himself, “Maybe a marine biologist? The ocean always interested me when I was a kid. I was such a nerd back then.” He recalls, a fond look painted across his face.

“How fitting,” Annabeth giggles. “That’s so cute.”

“Oh, shut up.” Percy rolls his eyes playfully.

That’s probably when everything goes downhill.

Percy is an olympic athlete. He is a very well known olympic athlete. He has fans.

And, obviously, his fans will recognize him in public.

“Ohmygod,” A waitress, standing at the edge of the table nearly squeals at the sight of him, “You’re Percy Jackson, right?”

He looks at her reluctantly. “Uh- Yes?”

Annabeth shoots him a look he can’t decipher.

“Can- Can I take a picture with you?” She beams, "I'm, like, a huge fan."

"Of course," Percy smiles a little at the question— though he enjoys fan interactions, he enjoys talking with Annabeth more.

Percy thinks its over when the waitress thanks him again and heads off, but its not.

Because apparently the commotion caused people look over their way, so they recognize him in hushed yet excited whispers. But then they're coming up to him asking for an autograph or picture and whatnot. Annabeth gives him more looks, but it doesn't seem like she's upset. No— she's amused by this.

A few nosy people eye her a bit; who is she and why is she eating dinner with Percy Jackson? And when they ask, Percy brushes off the question with a nervous smile and waves them off.

It's only until the end of dinner night that they catch a break: when people have calmed down and its time to pay the bill.

"Sorry." Percy says immediately as soon as it calm down, "I probably ruined dinner."

"No, it's fine!" Annabeth giggles, "It's funny how you deal with your fans."

"Funny?" He asks incredulously.

"Charming? Amusing?" The blonde grins. "You deal with people a lot more.. Nicer, than some people."

"Well its what i'm supposed to do." Percy says matter-of-factly.

"The bill," The waiter comes up to them, placing it on the table with swift movements.

"I can take it," They both say at the same time.

Annabeth stares at him. "I can."

"I asked you out," Percy feels his eyebrow twitch, "It's only polite for me to do so."

She huffs a little defeaten, but with a soft look nonetheless. "At least let me take care of the tips."

"Sure." Percy says with a smirk.

He thinks that could die on the spot when he opens his wallet.

No, all of his money hasn't been stolen— it's all there, like its supposed to be. It's not his ID, drivers license, or anything really— its the shiny silver packet that just fell out.

In front of the waiter.

In front of Annabeth.

"Extra large," The woman reads the wording with a teasing smile, "Huh. I'm not sure this was purposeful or an accident."

Percy nearly snatches back the condom at the speed of light, ears burning and face a weird shade of pink. "It's not- Jason- He put it in there-"

"Jason... put it in there."

"You know what?" He stammers, "I'll shut up."

The waiter shoots him a pitiful glance.

When Annabeth finds herself back at her doorstep, its Percy that accompanies her. The moon shines down like a spotlight. Street lights shine dimly in the night.

"Thanks for dinner, I enjoyed it a lot." She looks up at him, "I'll see you tuesday, yeah?"

Percy wants to reply normally, say that he enjoyed it too, but all that comes out of his stupid mouth is:

"I'm really sorry and you probably think low of me so goodnight and i'll see you tuesday." A deep inhale, "Goodnight."

The thing is, Annabeth doesn't think low of him, because she's texting him in the middle of the night saying 'We should totally do this again sometime!'

Percy Jackson is not an expert with love.

#so percy got annabeth's number by tryna charm her and stuff yk how that goes #even though her number was on the corkboard in the team's building lobby???#he is. so so stupid #pjo #percy jackson #percabeth #annabeth chase #hoo #heroes of olympus #chb #percy and annabeth #percy x annabeth #percabeth fluff #percabeth oneshot #percabeth fic #percabeth fanfic #pjo fic

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onechicago-upsteadrhekker · 4 years ago

Text

the trouble with wanting (is i want you) - part three

Friends!

It’s here! Finally! The last part to my version of Hailey’s time in New York!

I know it took a while me to post everything, but better late than never I guess! I hope this lives up to your expectations and I can’t wait to see what you think of it!

Huge shoutout to @anniesardors and @imjustwritingg for hearing and reading all the things and just being the biggest hype girls of all time!

Please enjoy this fluffy chapter before we get served a whole host of angst in the season finale tomorrow lol. Also, just a forewarning, it’s a long one... Like over 10,000 words so you’re welcome haha.

Tagging: @imjustwritingg, @anniesardors, @thetwit, @angelsjedi, @chichichicken, @carissalizz, @maya-asturias, @stephanie708, @cpd5777

Read on AO3

It was nearing eleven in the evening and Hailey didn’t think she’d ever been so exhausted from the events of the day. Being released from the hospital and Jay’s mandatory five laps around the floor of the hotel had taken its toll on her.

It was a good kind of exhausted though because today, she had fallen in love with Jay Halstead all over again.

With every gesture and smile and look he gave her she fell in love with him again and again. His strong, but gentle hands, his heart always so kind and his eyes filled with an affection that made her heart ache in the best way.

Even though her side was killing her, she felt so incredibly grateful to have him with her because the devotion he’s shown to her over the past few days, and especially today, made her once again realize that he truly was one of a kind.

And spending the day with just him, laughing and joking and asking each other silly questions almost made getting injured worth it.

She yawns through a giggle, her eyes shining bright as she listens to him wrap up a hilarious retelling of a time when he was on patrol. For one of her questions, she’d asked him for his craziest experience on the beat and he’d launched into a story about him and his old partner responding to a burglary call at two in the morning.

A man had claimed that he had been robbed and was missing five pounds of bacon but upon further investigation, it turned out the wife had been sneaking into the kitchen for a late-night snack.

“We did get some bacon out of it,” he laughs, looking up at her from where he was laid out at the end of the bed. “So, it wasn’t all bad.”

Shaking her head in amusement, she stifles another yawn with her hand and Jay gives her an affectionate smile and a pointed look, both of which she’s become quite familiar with by now.

“As much as I love this, I think it’s time for someone to go to bed.”

She arches an eyebrow, trying not to look as tired as she really felt. “So, I have a bedtime now?”

“When you’ve been shot and are taking some pretty heavy pain killers you do,” Jay smirks and she knows that not only is he right about her needing rest, but he is also getting payback for all of the times she had forced him to bed using the same argument.

He glances at his watch, the smirk growing, “Oh, and look at that. It’s time for another round of meds.”

Hailey gives him a look and scrunches up her nose, still not thrilled with the idea of taking them, but silently thankful that they should knock her out for a few hours. Shaking out a few pills into an open palm, Jay grabs a fresh bottle of water from the mini fridge and gives the items to her.

“Do you want a shower tonight?” He asks as she throws the pills back in one go and takes a gulp of water to swallow them down with.

Wiping at her lips with her shirt, she shakes her head. “I took one this morning before you got to the hospital, so I’m good.”

“Alright,” he nods, leaning down to pick an empty plastic bag that had floated to the floor. “Why don’t you get ready for bed then? I’ll clean up out here and then help you change your bandages.”

Hailey carefully climbs out of the spot she’s been sitting in for most of the day and pads over to the chest of drawers she had finally unpacked in when it was clear she would be staying in New York for more than two weeks. She pulls out an oversized police academy shirt and a pair of running shorts before turning to rifle through the small duffle that Jay had packed for her hospital stay for her toothbrush.

She makes her way into the bathroom and even though her back is to him, Hailey is still very much aware of every move Jay makes as he busies himself with tidying the room and washing their dishes.

It all seems so domesticated and easy, like something they’ve done a thousand times before, and yet it feels different than if they were in one of their apartments doing the same sort of thing after pizza and beers.

There was something about knowing Jay couldn’t just hop in his truck to go home if he felt like it or that she couldn’t hide away in her own bedroom for a few minutes when the overwhelming urge to kiss him comes over her and it makes her heart beat erratically inside her chest.

She rinses her mouth out and takes a deep breath to steady herself before leaving the bathroom now dressed in her pajamas.

Jay places the last dish away as she comes out, turning to look at her with another easy smile that makes her knees week. She thinks it should be illegal for someone to look that handsome doing such a mundane task, but then again, it’s Jay and she knows he looks good in anything and everything he does. She doesn’t even have to work with him every day to know that.

She sits on the edge of the bed and Jay makes his way over to her silently, gauze and medical tape in his hands. Lifting her oversized shirt, she keeps it from falling down with an arm crossed just below her breasts and she thinks for a moment that there should be some sort of initial awkwardness at being this close, that she should feel uncomfortable, but there isn’t, and she doesn’t.

Jay had been there when the nurses had first changed her bandages, had carefully studied their movements as they showed him what to do when she got home, but now that they were here, his hands touching her and just the two of them in a hotel room it was almost too much.

His fingers were gentle, but nimble as he carefully undid the bandages taped to her stitched side and Hailey couldn’t help thinking how his hands were more reassuring and comforting than even the nurses with all their experience and technique.

“Cop who scares you the most?” The sudden question almost makes Hailey jump, not expecting him to speak and she wonders if maybe the silence was getting to him too.

She blinks but doesn’t have to think too hard on this one. “Platt, for sure.”

“You?” She questions and she can hear the smile in his voice when he gives the same answer she had a second ago.

As his fingers continue working over her injury, she can’t help the way her heart rate quickens. Can’t stop the goosebumps from popping up all over her skin. If he notices the way she shivers just slightly, he doesn’t show it as he begins to apply the fresh gauze over her side.

“Did you always wanna be a cop? Before you met Platt, I mean,” he asks then. She hates the way it catches her off guard again, but also feels grateful for the distraction instead of thinking about his hands moving over her body.

“Um, no, actually. I was really into gymnastics when I was younger. I remember watching the Olympics with my brothers and just loving the way they all moved through the air. Did it for a couple years but didn’t stick with it. Obviously,” she says as he puts some slight pressure on her side to apply some medical tape over the gauze.

“I’m sorry. I know this part hurts,” he says immediately, his fingers stilling, and she shakes her head.

“It’s okay,” she breathes out through gritted teeth.

She takes another deep breath and feels him begin to move his hands over her side again a moment later. Instead of thinking about the discomfort and pain, she puts her focus back on the way his fingers feel on her skin. The way his hands have taken down some of the most hardened criminals of Chicago, but here he is, as gentle and as soft as can be with her. Like he always is.

His hands leave her side a moment later and then she hears him whisper from beside her. “All done.”

She nods and pulls down her shirt before slinking further into the bed and carefully lying on her uninjured side as comfortably as she could. She watches him as he cleans up the medical supplies and disposes of her dirty bandages before turning off the main light of the room.

There’s just the nightstand lamp on, now casting a softer glow throughout the room.

Hailey took another deep breath, trying to breathe as quietly as she could as she listened to Jay moving around the room on the other side of the bed. Her heart was starting to beat wildly again with anticipation as she waited for the inevitable dip of the bed when he was ready to turn in for the night.

She could hear his footsteps fall softly, the door to the bathroom closing shut as quietly as possible and she knows he’s trying hard not to disturb her. It didn’t matter though; she’s so hyper-aware of him, every noise he made echoed loudly in her ears.

If she were being honest, the thought of them sharing a bed had plagued her mind well before she’d been sent to New York and he’d hopped on a plane when she’d gotten hurt five weeks later. When it dawned on her that this meant that her bed-sharing fantasies had a high probability of coming true, her nights had been filled thinking about this moment more than she would ever admit.

Generally, she wasn’t an over thinker, but when it came to this, her mind had raced with the possibilities and each scenario had played out in her mind like a scene from a cringy rom-com.

The bathroom door opened, and her eyes flew shut. He moved silently over to the empty side of the bed and there was some rattling on the nightstand as he plugged his phone in and took his watch off. When it was quiet again, she waited for him to climb in beside her, but she could almost feel his hesitation.

She was about to tell him it was okay, and she didn’t mind sharing; that the bed was big enough for both of them, but then he climbed in next to her like it was just any other night. Like it was completely normal, and he’d been sleeping beside her for years.

It wasn’t a night of passionate frenzy and tangled limbs or awkward small talk over them sharing a bed.

It just was.

“Jay?”

He barely heard it, but it was enough for him to wake up.

Turning over quickly, he squinted, trying to see Hailey through the darkness, “Hailey?” He rasped groggily, “You okay?”

She sighed. Or tried to. He heard it catch in her throat before she drew in a quick little breath of pain and he knows that her insomnia is probably what woke her up, but it’s her ribs and side that’s keeping her from falling back asleep.

He tried to shuffle closer to her without jostling her too much, “You in pain?”

He was close enough now to see her facial expression. Her brows were furrowed like she was upset with herself as she muttered a ‘crap’, “I’m sorry, Jay. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Blinking, he shakes his head, becoming more alert as he props himself up on an elbow, “Hey, no, you didn’t wake me up.”

It’s a lie and they both know it, but he’ll say anything to make sure she knows that he really doesn’t care about the interruption.

“How long have you been awake?” He asked, glancing at the clock on the nightstand. It was three in the morning.

Hailey does some sort of half-shrug, still laying towards him on her uninjured side, “A few hours I guess.”

Jay frowns, “You could have woken me up a long time ago.”

She still looks a little frustrated at herself, her forehead creased in pain and he knows all too well how brutal the first night out of the hospital can be.

It’s painful, coming off hospital grade pain medication administered through an IV whenever it was needed, having to now rely on low-dosage pills to get through the night.

It’s certainly not a comfortable night, not by a long shot.

And when there aren’t any nurses to answer your every beck and call, you realize just how hard everything is to do by yourself when recovering from an injury.

But she’s not by herself and he’s ready to do anything he can to help her tonight even if it is three am because she was there for him his first night home after getting shot in the shoulder and every other night when an injury was serious enough to warrant a hospital visit since she’d become his partner.

She would sleep on his couch, waking him up in the night to give him another dose of medication even if he didn’t think he needed it and she was there to gently change his bandages with comforting hands and this last time, he could have sworn he’d felt her warm lips touch his forehead as he drifted off to sleep after she’d made him his mom’s soup recipe; it was his favorite and Hailey always made it for him when he got hurt or sick after she’d found out what the recipe meant to him.

But more than that, he cares about her and this is what partners do. They look out for one another.

He’s also quickly realizing how much it hurts to see the girl you’re in love with in pain.

He’s pushing the sheets off of him, already reaching for the bottle of pills sitting on his nightstand, “I should have been more diligent about you taking these pills every four hours.”

He’s a little frustrated with himself for not setting an alarm to give her a dose during the night because now her pain is so bad she can’t sleep. Something he knows she needs to heal quickly.

Hailey carefully rolls on her back, gently holding a hand to her incision and the bruises surrounding it, “Don’t beat yourself up over it, Jay. It’s not your responsibility and I shouldn’t have been so stubborn yesterday.”

“Hey,” He sets the fresh water bottle he’d just grabbed from the fridge on the table next to the pills he’s shaken out before quickly climbing up on the bed to look at her closely.

He wants her to see how serious he is when he says this, “I will take care of you. Every time, any time, anywhere you need me. Even if you don’t think you need me, I will be there. Always, Hailey,” His eyes search hers, “You got me?”

She doesn’t say anything then or protest anymore, just nodding her head and accepting the out-stretched water and pills, quickly throwing them back before handing the bottle back to him.

They stare at each other for a few seconds too long before she blinks and he’s moving to put the half-empty water bottle back on the nightstand. He gets in the bed and waits till Hailey gingerly lowers herself back into the comfort of the mattress before he reaches out and flings the fallen covers over both of them.

He turns out the light he’d flipped on before rolling over to face her. There was a good foot between them, but he never wanted to gather her up in his arms more than he did in this moment, just quietly staring at her in the sliver of moonlight that was cast about the room.

She was breathing shallowly, her arms carefully folded in a comfortable position and her head resting peacefully on her pillow. Her blonde hair was spread out behind her and even though it was messy from sleeping, Jay didn’t think he’d ever seen anything so perfect.

He was staring at her and she was staring at him and even though neither of them had found the courage yet to admit that they fall asleep thinking about each other even when they aren’t together, they both silently knew.

They knew in the way they laughed together and in the way they sit quietly in the truck doing their job and in the way it felt right in this moment.

The world had never felt so right than in this moment, next to each other.

“Favorite memory?” It is whispered into the dark much like she’d said his name not even five minutes ago and if he hadn’t been listening to her quiet breaths, he probably wouldn’t have heard it.

A smile instantly creeps across his face at the question, and he knows he should take a minute to think about the answer to such a difficult question because how can one pick out a single favorite memory among a lifetime of them in such a short amount of time?

But he doesn’t even need a second because the answer is right in front of him.

“This. Now. Anytime I’m with you,” He answers honestly, and it feels like the most direct thing that’s been said between them regarding the feelings they both so clearly have.

He can hear her breath hitch just slightly before she breaths out a chuckle, “That’s not an answer. You gotta pick a moment.”

“Says who?” He challenges with a raised eyebrow she can barely see through the dark.

Hailey gives him a cocky little smirk, “Says me. I’m the one playing your dumb game and I’m the one asking the question, so I should be allowed to make my own rules.”

“I’m sorry. What do you mean by ‘dumb game’? This is one of greatest games of all time,” He mused airily with a hint of fake indignation, “I mean just think of all the great stuff we’ve learned about each other. It’s truly an unmatched bonding experience.”

“Uh-huh,” She couldn’t help but laugh at his overrated words of praise watching as a grin takes over his face.

“Because learning that you used to steal from Will’s hidden candy stash when you were a kid really strengthened our relationship in a special way,” She rolled her eyes.

“Well, it’s not like there’s a lot of stuff you don’t know,” He defended with a pointed look at her.

She’s still grinning that wide smile that says she thinks he’s something else, but she’s so carefree with her sparkling eyes and cheeky dimples, his heart feels like it might burst from his chest at the sight.

He’s leaning on a bent elbow, propping his head up as he gets lost in her and his expression morphs into a soft smile as he thinks about what he just said.

“We’ve spent a lot of hours together, Upton,” His eyes crinkle with fondness and Hailey feels a happy warmth settle over her as she hums in agreement, thinking of all the time they’ve spent telling story after story or just sitting in absolute silence waiting for something to happen.

It’s easy being with him. Has been since the very beginning. Even when they were figuring each other out and dealing with a lot of emotional trauma, there was never any real awkwardness.

He’s comfortable and natural and she’s never had that with anyone. That’s how she knows they are good together and that’s what lets her know that they have the potential to make this last forever.

She almost gives voice to her thoughts. Here, in the dark of a hotel room as they lay in a bed together for the first time, only a few inches separating them, but then Jay slowly starts breathing out the answer to her question and she knows it’s not their time yet even though she desperately wants it to be.

“Remember a few months ago when we all went out to Molly’s after that flesh-eating bacteria debacle?”

Hailey nods. She remembers being overwhelmed at the feeling of being carefree after the stress and terror they had all been put through in the last seventy-two hours. She remembers being thankful that she was alive, but more than that, she remembers being so very relieved that Jay was okay.

She’d had nightmares for months after that where she didn’t make the shot in time, that Jay had infected himself and lost limbs or died because of it.

“And afterwards you wanted ice cream, but everyone else wanted to go home so me and you went to get some?”

She remembers that too.

She doesn’t know why, but she’d had an intense craving for the frozen treat that night and she remembers mentioning it to the team in passing, figuring that she would just stop for a carton from the store on her way home, but then Jay said he would take her and the next thing she knew, they were down at Navy Pier getting ice cream.

She remembers thinking that it felt dangerously like a date and that they were going to get caught for being out past their curfew like a couple of teenagers.

Hailey notices his gentle smile as he gets lost in the memory and she thinks she can just barely see a blush coloring his cheeks. She wonders if he also thought the outing felt a little like they were reckless high schoolers out on a late-night date.

“That’s it. That’s my favorite memory.”

She knew that’s where he was going with this, but she still feels a little shocked hearing it, “That’s your favorite memory?”

If she sounds a little dumbfounded, it’s because she is. She was expecting him to say something about a favorite trip or something with his mom, not some random night where the two of them got ice cream.

“Out of all your memories, that’s the one you’re choosing? What about one of your birthdays or some other special occasion?” She questions again, thinking surely there is something better than a crowded night out in Chicago.

There’s a bashful look on his face, but it doesn’t diminish the contented glimmer in his eyes as he simply nods, “You asked and that’s my answer. Or do you have rules for that too?”

Hailey rolls her eyes, adjusting her head on her pillow, “No. I was just wondering why out of all the nights, that’s the one you picked.”

She doesn’t really expect him to answer, but once again he shocks her when he moves his head just slightly closer to hers and he looks at her like she’s everything he’s ever needed.

“That whole night I remember watching you laugh. Really laugh for the first time in months,” He smiles to himself as he recalls the memory, staring off into the distance, “After everything that happened with Adam and Kelton and then the outbreak, things were finally starting to look up and we were all just so thankful to be out without any stress of a case hanging over our heads.”

Jay shifts his gaze back to hers, “And then we went to get ice cream and we just talked without worrying about our team or being split up or potentially dying from a deadly bacterial infection.”

He takes a breath, “I remember being so grateful and relieved that you were okay after being in isolation, that being with you outside of work, seeing you so happy made me realize how damn lucky I am to have you as not just my partner but as my best friend too.”

Hailey has to blink back tears, not expecting the sentimental response or that it would affect her this much. She reaches out and takes the hand he has laying on the mattress, “You’re my best friend too, Jay. I hope you know that.”

She thinks she sees his eyes flit down to her lips and she thinks that this might be it, that he was getting ready to kiss her, but then he doesn’t, and she tries not to be frustrated at being constantly on edge thinking that each moment is the one that would change her life.

“What about you?” He asks, still holding the hand she placed in his.

“My favorite memory?” She arches eyebrow and he nods as she rolls slightly onto her back, staring up at the ceiling to think before answering.

Like Jay, she doesn’t have to think long, “That time I got really sick with the flu and you came over to fix me your mom’s soup recipe.”

It is his turn to look skeptical of her response, echoing the words she’d said to him, “That’s your favorite memory?”

“Yeah,” She nods before turning her head to look at him, “Even though I felt so crappy, I remember thinking that that was the first time that anyone had taken time out of their day to take care of me like that.”

“Hailey….” Jay breathed out, squeezing her hand as a feeling of protectiveness swept over him, his heart aching to hear that that was the first time she’d ever felt cared for while being sick.

“You made me feel safe when I wasn’t feeling good and in a vulnerable position,” She looks at him fervently, “You make me feel safe, Jay. On the job, when I’m not feeling well, and I’ve never had that before.”

He has that same look from the bar when she’d told him about how her dad would hit her mom and how she’d wished someone would come put her father in his place like Jay did with Shane.

What she didn’t tell him then was that even though Jay wasn’t around when she was a little girl to save her, he had already saved her by just being the kind of man he was.

The man who was selfless in his actions and who was brave without need of recognition, who was patient with his words and slow to anger.

So different from her dad.

From any man she’d met really, especially being in a highly competitive male-dominated career.

Jay’s forehead is creased like it does when he is distressed, so Hailey smiles at him and tries to lighten the mood, “I know what you’re thinking, and it wasn’t all bad. My brothers tried to be there for me, and we had fun when we could.”

She smiles, a little melancholy thinking of the brothers that she’d roughhoused with when she was younger and feels that little pang of sadness when she remembers they are not nearly as close as they were when they were kids, but regardless she knows she wants to let Jay in, so she chuckles to herself and starts to offer some insight to the good parts of her childhood.

“We used to build pillow forts all the time,” Hailey snuggles down into the bed, grinning as she recalls the all the messes they made in their hidden sanctuary that was the attic.

That’s where they would go when they wanted to pretend that they had a normal childhood. No one ever went up there except for them and it was fairly soundproof, so they felt safe to have a little fun without their father hearing.

“We would take all of the pillows and sheets and blankets off of our beds and haul them up the ladder leading to our attic and then my brothers would hang the sheets from the rafters, and we would pile the pillows underneath so we had a soft place to lay.”

There is a soft smile playing at Jay’s lips now and she’s glad she is sharing this rare piece of childhood wonder with him.

She wonders if he is imagining a little girl with blonde pigtails and a wide smile and some part of her hopes that that little girl is not her, but another little girl that plays with her siblings and instead of blue eyes she has green with two parents who are laughing right alongside her.

“I would crawl under those blankets and pretend like it was my mansion and that my brothers were my servants,” Jay laughs at this and Hailey gives a rueful smile, “Most of the time they were happy to indulge and if my oldest brother was in a really good mood, he was usually persuaded into reading to us younger kids.”

Jay smirks, “Now why do I get the impression that you had all your brothers wrapped around your little finger?”

She smirks right back, “Well, it’s not my fault that I was just so dang cute.”

“No, no it’s not,” He says softly, his expression suddenly so open and vulnerable she can’t help but blush.

She yawns, a sudden wave of exhaustion washing over her, and it effectively breaks any moment they were about to have as a smirk reappears on Jay’s face, “Looks like the meds are starting to kick in.”

Hailey noticed that the sharp, throbbing pain she’d woken up with had lessened to a dull ache and that her head was starting to feel fuzzy, so she knew he was right.

Yawning again, she let her eyes close, humming, “Tell me another story about you and Will.”

She hears him shift, and she knows he is settling into the pillows before his gentle voice overtakes her senses and she’s carried off with dreams of little Halstead boys with green eyes and red hair.[EF1]

She’s woken by a beam of sunlight shining straight into her eyes and the last thing she remembers is listening to Jay’s soothing voice as he told her about the time he fell out of his second-story bedroom window because Will had reversed all the locks in the house as a prank and he was trying to get out.

Apparently, the only thing that had saved him from breaking something was the shed that was under his window and Hailey remembered thinking as she drifted off to sleep that it truly was a wonder that Jay had lived this long between his childhood misadventures and his penchant for getting shot in adulthood.

Turning, she is half-expecting to find him asleep beside her, but he is not there, and the mattress is cold enough that she knows he’s been gone for a while. One look at the clock tells her he has because it’s ten AM and she’s never known the man to sleep past six.

True, she’s not well-acquainted with his sleeping schedule, but she knows enough about him to know that his time in the army instilled early morning habits. Even if he was injured and she was staying with him she would find him awake by at least seven.

Carefully stretching, Hailey is pleased to find herself in significantly less discomfort than she’s experienced over the past few days and she’s hopeful that she will be able to be more mobile than she was yesterday.

She slowly pushes herself upright and looks around for any sign of Jay. His wallet and watch are missing from the nightstand and the door to the bathroom is open, so she feels safe assuming that he has gone out somewhere.

Her stomach growls and she hopes he is getting them breakfast.

It is then that she notices all the chairs and tables have been pushed to the middle of room and there are sheets stretched out over them in a semblance of a fort. The pillows that they weren’t using were thrown underneath and she feels tears prick her eyes because of course, Jay would make her a pillow fort after learning what they meant to her.

Throwing back the covers, she gently swings her legs over the edge of the bed to stand up, rubbing her eyes as a grin makes its way onto her face. She wasn’t lying when she’d told him that pillow forts were something that brought back good memories of her brothers, but she has a feeling that they may be taking on a whole new meaning to her from now on.

Of Jay and hotel rooms and lazy mornings. And if things fall into place, sometime in the future they will mean living rooms and slow kisses and little feet.

Her gaze catches the book lying on her nightstand. Her eyes sparkle as she grabs it and makes her way over to the fort, carefully squatting down so she could crawl underneath the ‘roof’ made of white sheets held up by chairs and heavy objects.

Settling comfortably on her back in the midst of the pillows piled on the floor, Hailey opens her book to her last marked page and gets lost in the world of Farewell to Arms.

She doesn’t know how much time has passed before her ears prick up at the sound of the hotel door being opened. She listens as Jay swings it open, catching it before it slams back into the latch as he softly calls out her name.

Staying quiet, she hears the crinkle of bags being sat on the kitchen countertop, Jay calling out her name a second time before he’s silent again, his footfalls coming closer to her spot under his fort.

She watches as his legs appear in her line of vision, his head suddenly making an appearance a few seconds later when he swoops down.

Hailey grins, “Hi.”

Jay grins back in amusement, “Hi,” He squats down in front of her, still just outside the fort, “I take it you found my surprise?”

“Mmhm,” She hums, the sparkle in her eyes softening sincerely, “Thank you, Jay. And not just for this, but for everything you’ve done for me.”

He shakes his head, “Hailey,” He pauses and huffs out an incredulous chuckle, “you don’t ever have to thank me.”

Unexpected tears spring in her eyes as his words touch her in a way she can’t quite describe. She ducks her head and blinks rapidly, trying to dissipate them before clearing her throat and looking back at Jay.

She uses her head to gesture at the space beside her and arches an eyebrow, “You coming in or what?”

Jay laughs, rolling his eyes as he slips off his shoes and carefully maneuvers his tall frame under the sheet roof.

Laying down next to her, he notices the book laying loosely in Hailey’s hands. He nods to it, giving it a pointed glance before looking at her and smirking playfully, “You want me to read to you?”

This time, she rolls her eyes and lets her body sway to gently bump him, “You want to read Ernest Hemingway to me?”

Shrugging, he plucks the book out of her hands and flips through it, “You got anything else?”

“No,” She shakes her head, “It’s the only thing I brought.”

Jay sighs as he looks at the title ruefully, “A Farewell to Arms, Hailey. Really? This is like the most depressing book on the planet.”

Frowning, she gives him an affronted look, “This is one of my favorites!”

He raises his eyebrows, shaking his head in disbelief, “I will never understand it, but okay,” He opens the book again, thumbing through the pages trying to distinguish what part she’s at because almost all the pages are dog tagged from overuse, “Where are you at?”

She diverts her gaze quickly, scrunching up her nose sheepishly before giving him a wry look, “I just got to book five.”

Jay gives her a look that says ‘really’ and huffs out a sigh as he turns to the last section, “I mean the whole book is depressing, but this is arguably the worst part.”

“But it’s so good, Jay,” She insisted, settling her head down into the pillows waiting for him to start reading.

He shakes his head again but turns his gaze to the page and starts to read, his voice gentle and lilting. Hailey thinks she could listen to him read to her for a lifetime and never get tired of hearing him.

He reads about the Henrys living in their cabin and then about Catherine preparing for the baby. When he gets to the part where she goes into labor, Jay notices a melancholy look in Hailey’s eyes as she lays quietly listening next to him, playing with her loose hair as she looks up at the billowing, white sheet.

Then he gets to the part where the doctor wants to do a C-Section and Jay swears he hears Hailey sniffling when he gets to the part where the nurse tells Frederic that the baby was dead.

He is almost to the end now, and he is surprised to find himself choking up just slightly as he reads line after line of Frederic pleading with God to save his wife. Hailey is definitely tearing up at this point and when he reads the last couple of lines, she wipes away the tears and sighs as he closes the book, clearing his own throat.

They lay there in silence for a few minutes before Jay feels like he can speak after going through that emotional rollercoaster of an ending, “God, Hailey, how do you like this?”

She shrugs, turning her head towards him and he’s slightly surprised at how close they were. If he wanted, he could barely dip his head and be kissing her.

“It’s beautiful in a gut-wrenching kind of way,” Her eyes have this inquisitive look in them, and it reminds him of how she looks when she’s going over files, trying to piece together backgrounds for motives.

He can’t help but scoff at her response, “It’s devastating is what it is. I mean the poor guy survived the war just to have his wife and child die all in one day.”

He shudders, rapidly pushing the unbidden, very unwanted image of Hailey in the same situation. God, he couldn’t even imagine, and he and Hailey were just barely on the cusp of being together.

“But it’s life,” She offers softly, a knowing look on her face and this time the look in her eyes is of someone who has seen a lot of death and unfair endings, “We know all too well how cruel this world can be.”

Jay sighs in acknowledgement, letting his head drop as they both quietly think about Hailey’s loaded statement.

He puts the book out of the way and rolls onto his side so he’s fully facing her, “Life is cruel, but it can be really beautiful too. Even in the pain.”

Hailey is quiet for a moment as she watches him, contemplating his words before she cocks her head, a strange little smile on her face, “Who knew Jay Halstead could be such a philosopher.”

Jay can’t help chuckle, his eyes crinkling merrily as he teases, “Who knew Hailey Upton could be such a sentimentalist.”

She rolls her eyes playfully, “I guess your game was good for something then. We are just partners; I guess we don’t know everything.”

She said it teasingly because they both know that they knew the things that mattered, but then Jay looks at her and she can’t quite make out the expression on his face.

“I guess so,” He murmurs back, their eyes locking, and Hailey can feel her smile fading from her face as Jay’s gaze darts to her lips.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe.

The air had shifted from light and playful into something of hopeful anticipation as they both held their breath because this was it. Somehow, she knew that this was the moment they both have been waiting for.

“Hailey,” The way he says it brings her back to flying bullets and quiet break rooms; to teary eyes and soft whispers when the threat of being spilt up was very real and too overwhelming to think about.

He’d said her name then just like he was saying it now, breathy and gentle and maybe even a little bit scared. And just maybe, Hailey thought, they had been on the edge of this for far longer than she’d even realized.

“You know, I think I have just one more question for you,” It was barely a whisper, his minty breath ghosting over her face.

Her own shallow breathing had nothing to do with her bruised ribs and stitched side but everything to do with the way his forehead was almost touching hers as they lay on their sides underneath the fort made from sheets and pillows.

The joking and the laughter and the bright sunlight of a hopeful day shining through the white sheets, surrounding her and she feels it in her bones that this is the monumental moment of their great love story—the start of a beautiful life bursting with love and tears and pain and joy and pillow forts and all the things that come with loving each other; of building a family together.

Her eyes were lidded as she looked into those brilliant green irises that she loved so much, and the feeling of warmth and affection and pure adoration washed over her as Jay’s gaze dropped to her lips before his eyes closed completely, slowly breathing her in.

Their lips were almost touching now as they lay in the quiet of a lazy afternoon of an ordinary Sunday afternoon and it was in the way it was just so natural, so comforting that made her feel like she’d just had a glass of warm milk and was now tucked up in bed.

But that tingling feeling she had low in her belly and rushing through her bones was so much better than she’d ever felt before and she knew it was much more than just an ordinary Sunday—it was an extraordinary Sunday.

“And what question would that be?” She was almost afraid to talk even at a whisper for fear of breaking the spell they were under, but the barely murmured question was filled with hope and love and affection, adding a deeper layer of warmth to the bubble they had created.

“Are we only just partners?” His nose skimmed hers as he moved his head slightly, his slightly open lips almost touching her cheek in the barest hints of a kiss.

Hailey hummed, letting out a soft little sigh as she gently ran her hands up Jay’s torso, stopping at his chest, her touch light and soft.

“Do only just partners fly all the way to New York?” It was a rhetorical question spoken in hushed tones as Jay gently nuzzled her neck before bringing his head back up to gaze at her, their lips once again mere millimeters apart. She swallowed faintly, “Because I think we both know that we aren’t just partners.”

His eyes held soft tenderness and fierce devotion, the quiet future she’d dreamed for them reflecting so clearly back at her. The pads of his fingertips touched her cheek so scarcely it almost tickled, “I’d follow you anywhere, Hailey. To New York, back to Chicago,” His gaze burned into hers and she knew he was getting ready to say the words she’d been hoping to hear for so long.

She felt the fingers of his other hand tangle with hers by their sides, “To the edge of the universe and everywhere in between. Wherever you are, I am, because you are the person I always want to come home to.”

She felt the promises land on her lips more than she heard them, his voice was so soft and quiet. And Hailey thought it was perhaps the most intimate she’d ever been with a person.

It was vulnerable and gentle and warm and just pure, unadulterated love, and she knew she would never be able to put this feeling or this moment into words, but she knows that this is where she belongs; next to him, in his arms, his heart beating under her palm.

She barely had time to whisper, “Oh Jay” before his lips were softly pressing against hers in an intentional kiss instead of fleeting brushes. It was unhurried and really quite innocent as far as kisses go, but she’d never felt more cherished than she did in that moment.

His lips just barely moved against hers, languidly filling her up as he kissed her in the way one would savor the taste of something new yet familiar.

A last first kiss.

Jay pulled back slightly, their lips still touching as he looked at her, his strong but gentle hand cupping one of her cheeks, “Because you are my home. The person I want to share it all with—the joy and the pain. The person I want to tell my secrets to. To whisper all the hopes and dreams and promises. And that’s why I love you.”

Maybe he’s crazy for telling her what he so deeply feels in his heart right away, but then he looks at her and he knows it isn’t. They were already closer than most couples ever are, and he thinks that’s what makes them so special—so different from any other relationship he’s ever had.

It isn’t crazy because it’s true and they are them.

He knows she’s already seen the truth in his eyes anyway.

When Jay walks into the hotel room later that day, arms laden with Greek takeout, he does he wanted to do last night and calls out a ‘honey, I’m home’ in a teasing manner.

Hailey smiles at him brightly, her eyes shining with the laughter that’s so clearly on her face, and he can’t help but drop a kiss on her dimpled cheek, marveling at the way tonight was so vastly different from the night before.

It was so easy now, to just drop a kiss to her cheek or her lips whenever he wanted, like he’d been doing it for years and yet, he still had that buzzy feeling of anticipation that he’d had this morning when he kissed her for the first time.

Something tells him that it’s going to always feel like that when kissing her no matter how many times he does it over the course of their lifetimes and that thought alone sends his heart racing and makes him think dangerous things like rings and vows and forevers.

He knows, he knows, it’s definitely way too early for those types of thoughts, but then again, that has never stopped him from imagining a future with her before. Before they were even together. But now they are, and it’s proving difficult to not think about the thing that he’s wanted for so long is realistically and finally within his grasp.

“What?” She’s cocking her head, her lips quirking up in a question and he realizes he’s been staring at her for the past couple of minutes.

Jay shakes his head, lips quirking up in a smile of his own, “Nothing.”

Hailey gives him an inquisitive look like she’s not entirely sure she believes him, but the grin on her face tells him she’s too happy to care. She turns back to where she is gingerly picking up the room, gathering their collective dirty laundry to throw in the washing machines downstairs and he is suddenly, once again struck with the thought of this is what he wants his future to look like.

“What are we gonna do for the next couple of days? I’m probably not up for traipsing all over New York, but we should do something other than stay in this hotel room.”

Her back is to him as she talks and continues to tidy the messy room, leaving the fort for now, but gathering up a few pillows that are laying on the floor to throw back on the bed.

“We’d both go crazy, especially considering I’m not allowed to do anything ‘physically active’ which is, not going to lie, kind of a bummer seeing as how I’ve waited for ages for you to make a move and we’re here totally alone with nothing to potentially interrupt us,” She rattles on casually like she’s talking about the weather and while he is also bummed at not being able to take that final step of being together totally and completely for another couple of weeks, he is thrilled that they have this time together to get to know each other as a couple.

There are more intimate things than just sex and those are the moments he is looking forward to. He wants to know what she finds romantic and how much she likes to cuddle and if she hogs the blankets at night or if her feet get cold.

Things that only a boyfriend would know.

He realizes she’s stopped talking and is looking at him again, this time with an eyebrow raised in exasperation, “Jay! Have you been listening to me at all?”

He blinks and shakes his head sheepishly, knowing she must have been waiting on an answer to a question he hadn’t heard.

Her eyes furrow inquisitively as she shakes her own head in slight amusement before turning back to her task, muttering something about how he was an idiot, but she loves him anyway.

“Hailey,” He blurts it out, like he’s desperate, like if he doesn’t say what he wants now then he’s afraid it’ll never happen. She looks back at him again, this time with a hint of concern on her face, but he’s just looking at her like a man in love and she’s his whole world.

“Let’s get married.”

“Well, look who it is! The elusive damsel and her brooding knight in shining armor,” Adam exclaimed, his arms flung out wide as Jay and Hailey made their way up the steps and into the bullpen.

Hailey glared at him, but the smile threatening to take over her face ruined the effect, “Ha ha, very funny. A girl goes away for a while and she’s suddenly elusive, she gets hurt and now she’s a damsel.”

She accepts the gentle hug that Adam was offering as Kevin and Kim crowded in behind them at the top of the steps, waiting for their turn to welcome her home.

“Hailey, you can’t ever leave again. Or if you do, you gotta take me with you because one more day alone with these children and I would’ve lost my mind,” Kim insists as she moves in for a hug of her own.

There was a chorus of affronted heys’ from Adam, Kevin and Jay as Hailey chuckled at the desperation in Kim’s voice.

“Also, clearly you need us watching your back because the second you go off without us, you get hurt,” The statement is meant to be funny and it gets the eye-roll it deserves, but Hailey knows this is Kim’s way of saying she’s glad she’s okay.

Hailey is sure had they been alone, Kim would have been more direct with her feelings of relief, but as women in the force, they had to be careful not to exude to much sentimentality even if they know their unit would never use it against them.

“We sure did miss you, girl,” Kevin tells her as he steps up for a hug of his own and she grins into the man’s broad chest when she hears Jay mutter a, “And what am I? Chopped liver?”

Adam starts to tease him, but whatever he was about to say is cut off by Kim’s loud gasp as she all but yanks Hailey’s hand which was still resting on Kevin’s back to her face.

“Oh my God,” The squeal that comes out of her mouth is one none of them had ever heard before as she pulls on Hailey’s arm, bringing her fingers to eyelevel as she narrowed in on something that hadn’t been there before.

“Did you get married?!”

That definitely got the other’s attention, Kevin and Adam’s heads’ immediately snapping over to look at Hailey’s left hand that Kim still had a hold of, “Holy crap, Hailey. You go away for like five weeks and you come back freaking married?”

Hailey tries retracting her hand, but Kim still has a tight hold on it, staring at the engagement and wedding band on her ring finger of her left hand. She opens her mouth to say something, but she doesn’t get very far before Kim’s talking again, “I’m sorry, but who the hell did you marry?”

There is a beat of silence before Adam curses under his breath, muttering a ‘no way’ as he practically leaps across desks to grab Jay’s left hand which was rifling through his duffel bag. Much like Kim did with Hailey, Adam brings Jay’s hand to his face, pulling him half-way across his desk and ignoring his protests.

“Holy no way,” Kim’s eyes were about as wide as saucers as they all glanced back and forth between the two partners.

“You two got freaking married?” Kim says again, her voice at an unnaturally high pitch.

Hailey can’t help but smirk at Kim’s expression as she sits down with her mouth slightly agape and has to suppress a laugh at Kevin and Adam’s matching dumbfounded expressions. She shares a secret look with Jay, the sparkle of laughter evident in his eyes.

She glances over their friends before shrugging and offering a simple, “Surprise!”

“I think I’m going to throw up,” Adam states as he slowly sinks into his desk chair, his face whiter than Hailey had ever seen it.

She knew their news would be a shock, but she didn’t think it warranted this strong of a reaction. Jay sends her another look that says the same thing and she knows he’s about to ask Adam if everything was okay when Kevin starts laughing.

“Oh man. Dude, what did we tell you?” He snorts, holding out an opened palm as Adam looks up at him in disbelief.

“I didn’t think it would actually happen and you told me nothing of the sort,” He defends, looking very uncertain, his eyebrows furrowed in distress.

Swallowing, Adam finally looks at them, flicking his eyes between her and Jay, “You told Trudy, didn’t you? Why would you do that?”

Jay shoots Hailey a look before slowly shaking his head, “No, Adam, we didn’t tell anyone.”

His face goes even whiter than it was before, and he sinks out of his chair to sit on the floor, burying his head in his hands.

Kim’s eyes widened and she looked at Adam warily, “Adam, what did you do?” Her eyes narrowed in alarmed suspension, “Don’t tell me you actually made that bet with Trudy.”

Adam was now lying flat on his back in the floor, his head moving back and forth in misery as he groaned, “I thought I had it in the bag. I mean, if Jay and Hailey didn’t tell her then how the hell did she come up with exactly what happened? That’s one hell of a coincidence.”

Kevin shook his head in slightly terrified admiration, “I don’t know, man. Trudy Platt is as mysterious as they come, and she has mad skills.”

Hailey’s eyebrows furrow as she watches Adam’s dramatics play out in front of her, “What bet? What are you guys talking about?”

Kim and Kevin share a look, ignoring Adam who was still moaning in disbelief on the floor behind his desk and at Kevin’s shrug, Kim looks back at Hailey and Jay.

“Well,” She draws it out like one who is coming clean about something they don’t particularly want to divulge, “We’ve had bets going for a while on when you two were going to get together because we all knew this was going to happen sooner or later and we decided the other day that it was going to be sooner rather than later because of the whole New York thing.”

“And somehow Trudy ended up pitching the idea of you guys eloping and I guess Adam was stupid enough to take the bet,” She purses her lips, “Not that any of us actually thought you were going to get married. Together, yes, but married?”

Kim trails off and Hailey’s eyebrows arch warily, “Wait a second. What do you mean ‘we all knew this was going to happen sooner or later’? Because to be completely honest, I didn’t even know if it was going to happen till a few days ago.”

“Girl,” Kevin shakes his head and uncrosses his arms to put his hands in his pockets, “You have no idea the amount of gossip you guys generate down in patrol. You two are like a freaking slow-burn romance novel,” At Kim’s odd look he hurries to add, “Not that I know anything about those. That’s just what Vanessa says and honestly, this whole thing was started by her so you can just go find her in whatever undercover operation Narcotics has her in and bring it up with her.”

There is a slightly uncomfortable pause as Hailey and Jay take in the information that they are already a source of gossip in the district, but it’s broken by another one of Adam’s distressed groans.

“Man,” Jay looks over at him, his eyebrows arching like he was finally fed up with his friends’ bemoaning, “What the hell kind of deal did you make with Trudy.”

Kim crosses her arms, also clearly unimpressed, “You know, I’d also like to know what has you rolling around like you’re in state mourning.”

“I didn’t think they were actually going to get married, or I would have never made the bet,” Adam insists again, running his hands over his face, “I owe her a months’ worth of drinks at Molly’s, and I have to do school crossings for the rest of the school year.”

Jay laughs, “Oh man,” He shakes his head in amusement, “You do realize it’s only February, right?”

Adam glared at him, “Oh shut up.”

Clambering to his feet in a huff of despair, he heads dejectedly towards the stairs, “I guess I’d better go settle up before Platt comes up here to rub it in my face.”

They watch him go, each trying to hold in snorts of laughter before he disappeared around the corner and Kevin turns back to where Hailey and Jay have taken up residence at Hailey’s desk.

“I still can’t believe you two are actually married,” He rubs his face briefly with an astonished huff of laughter, “Together, I could believe. In fact, I have money on it, but married? Like, what inspired you to skip the dating phase?”

Hailey and Jay share an amused look, her expression changing imperceptibly before Jay turns back to Kim and Kevin, “I guess we should probably come clean.”

They look a little confused for a moment before Kim creases her forehead skeptically, “Wait a second,” Her eyes widen in realization before she slowly starts to speak, “Are you telling us that was all a joke?”

“Well,” Hailey smirks, starting to remove the wedding and engagement bands on her finger as Jay did the same with the wedding band he was wearing, “The married part was a joke but the together part,” She looks at Jay and he gives her a soft smile full of warmth and love, “That’s for real.”

“Wait, seriously?” Kevin gave an impressed grin, chuckling, “So, Adam didn’t really lose that bet?”

Jay shrugged, grinning, “No, not technically,” He winks, “but we don’t need to tell him that.”

“I honestly can’t believe that turned out as well as it did,” Hailey shakes her head in disbelief, “We had no idea Adam had made that bet with Trudy. We just thought it was too good of an opportunity to pass up.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t because that was entertaining as hell and I for one am going to enjoy watching Adam carry out a bet he actually didn’t lose,” Kim flops down in her desk chair, powering up her computer as she laughs.

Kevin follows suit, laughing as they all turn to their computers to start the workday. They have to smother snickers when half an hour later, Adam trudges up the steps with a smug looking Trudy Platt following him, rattling off his new school crossing schedule.

“I can’t tell you how good it feels to be back,” Hailey sighs, leaning into Jay as they walk out of the district and into the roll-up, Jay’s arm slung around her shoulders.

He kisses the side of her head, “It feels good to have you back. I know I’ve said this before, but nothing was the same while you were gone. I hope everything will start to go back to normal now that you’re here with me.”

Hailey suddenly extracts herself out from under his arm and puts a good couple of inches distance in between them. Jay frowns, confused at her sudden coldness, “Hailey?”

“What?” She gives him an innocent look, a smile starting to tug at her lips, “You said you hope things go back to normal. This is normal for us.”

Jay gives her an unimpressed look, “Ha ha. Very funny. You know what I meant.”

She chuckles and lets Jay sling his arm over her shoulders again as they continue to walk over to where he parked the truck earlier.

“A new normal then,” He amends, “One where I get to kiss you and touch you and tell you how much I love you.”

Nestling her head into his shoulder, she looks up at him with a heartfelt smile, “Sounds good to me.”

They are at the truck now and Jay walks with her to the passenger’s side before stopping to turn and face her, his hands coming to rest on her upper arms. He takes a breath and Hailey’s eyebrows furrow at the almost nervous expression he is wearing, “I know that whole marriage thing today was a joke, but I meant what I said while we were in New York.”

Hailey remembers the initial shock she felt when Jay had blurted out that they should get married as they stood in their hotel room mere hours after their first kiss. He hurried to add that he meant sometime in the future, but he wanted to let her know how serious he was about this relationship even if it was way to early by most standards to be talking about marriage.

She’d listened to him ramble on uncharacteristically about how he loved her, that she was it for him and he just wanted her to know that. That one day in probably the near future he wanted to ask her for real and he hoped beyond all belief that she would say yes because he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her but even if she didn’t want to get married, he was okay with that. He just wanted to be with her on any terms.

After she got over the surprise of his statement, she found that she wasn’t frightened by how fast things seemed to be moving and if it had been anyone other than Jay, she knew deep in her bones that she would be running for the hills at even the hint of marriage.

But it was Jay and if she were being honest, she would’ve married him back in New York if he’d asked her to and she would marry him tomorrow if he dropped down on his knee right now to propose to her.

Jay swallowed and she could see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, “You are it for me and someday, I’m going to ask you to marry me. I hope to God you say yes, but I want you to know that as long as I’m with you, my life is filled with purpose, so we don’t need to define anything with a piece of paper or anything. I just need you to know how serious I am about this.”

“Jay,” She interjects softly, placing a hand on his chest over his rapidly beating heart, “Today, tomorrow, ten years from now. If and whenever you ask me,” She smiles gently as she moves to cup his stubbled cheek, “My answer will always be yes.”

I hope the ending wasn’t too cringy, but I had to end it somewhere lol! As always, let me know what you thought!

Love you all and can’t wait to see you for my next project!

#upstead #upstead fic #chicago pd fanfic #hailey upton #jay halstead

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washymylifeaway · 4 years ago

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SakuAtsu Fanfic recs

Edit: minor changes (grammar and stuff) cause I rushed this :’)

EDIT: PT 2 IS OUT

OKAY so I meant to make like a long list of MULTIPLE VARIOUS ASSORTED ships but as I was making it I realized I had WAY too many SakuAtsu fics. Like TOO MANY AHHHH. Anyway, I decided that for the sake of everyone, I should just make a separate post LOL oops I’m sorry but I’m so far into SakuAtsu hell it’s not even funny :))))))))) I tried to keep things short so I could not BORE you while reading this post LOL, but also THERE WILL BE A PT 2 because I cut myself short in order to get this out for.....

THE BEST BOY SAKUSA KIYOOMI’S BIRTHDAY I LOVE HIM AND EVERYONE ELSE SHOULD TOO :DDDDDDDDD

As per usual, pls check WARNINGS, TAGS, and SUMMARIES for each fic before reading and make sure you’re taking care of yourselves (since mental health is key!) Stay healthy loves <3

Some of my FAVORITE writers CHECK TAGS AND WARNINGS PLS-

astroeulogy // I LOVE their works and they write BEAUTIFULLY AHHHHH!!! My fav? Possibly Dance of the Parallax by astroeulogy (T) 6.7k, but all of them are SO good! (My love for mythology really be showing here hehe.)

DeathBelle // this writer is on SO many of my posts cause I ADORE the way they write and characterize!!! My fav? Burden of Blame by DeathBelle (E) 91.2k but you already knew that LOL. I love the other ones too, but mafia? UGH.

hatsuna // ahjfsdjfhkasj need I say more? There isn’t a lot BUT the ones there are so so good! My fav? Pas De Deux by hatsuna (T) 19k surprise :D I love this one for their interactions but also Omi’s childhood! It’s really good (and you don’t even need to understand ballet) <33333

bastigod // again another writer you will be seeing in other posts because their writing gives me LIFE AHHH. My fav? my love, take your time by bastigod (T) 9k again you already knew this, but I LOVE THIS ONE ahagdhls. I have reread this one so many times oops hehe :)

volchitsae // I LOVE THIS WRITER, like some of my favorite SakuAtsu fics are from this writer, like favorites of ALL TIME. Please go read their stuff because I love it so much. My fav? take me to the limit, hold me down there by volchitsae (E) 3.8k this was the fic that got me into their writing, and oops I’ve fallen and I can’t get up haha leave me....

awkwardedgeworth // THE FICS THIS WRITER MAKES AJKASDLK. I love them and everything they make omg!!! My fav? This was SO hard but Notte Stellata by awkwardedgeworth (T) 20.8k cause I’m basic LOL but your flame will not survive in this cold tundra was a close second :’)

TBH, there are more that I don’t have time to get to (I started this a while back but then pretended like it didn’t exist for a while LOL) but these were the ones here hehe :) I could honestly make an ENTIRE fic rec list from these writers alone and it would be WAY too long, so for the sake of everyone,,, MOVING ON

Fics (in no order, but also I’m missing a bunch I LOVE but like I said TIME CONSTRAINTS AHHAHAH RIP)-

the inherent romance of classical conditioning (or, the fine art of emotional recognition) by pseudoanalytics (E) 13.7k // this fic made me laugh so much, starting from the fact that there needed to be clarification (which was, after finishing, understood LOL) that this was indeed NOT a fic with a foot fetish.

Routines (and How to Break Them) by cajynn (T) 1.6k // this fic makes them SO CUTE ugh the fluff ajsjkfhajh. I love how Atsumu just slips into everything Omi does (like a snake) ITS SO ADORABLE AHHH.

sense of purpose (or, what comes next) by pseudoanalytics (T) 3.6k // this fic was so HEARTWARMING!!! It made me kinda sad though cause I’m just that kinda person (and I don’t like to think about the past LOLOLOLOL), but the ending was !!! SO !!! CUTE !!! and I love the ending notes (me too Osamu, me too)!

crushed by citruslemonade (strawberrycitrus) (E) 4.2k // I feel like it’s a crime if I don’t mention this fic LOL and it’s very quick and funny! We all want to be the watermelons in this fic and no I don’t take criticism. No thoughts just Miya Atsumu’s thighs :’)))

Clipped To You by littleboat (T) 8.1k // (cp) okay first of all THERE’S ART, second I love Omi in hair clips <3333 It’s really funny with lots of ~pining~ Atsumu and there’s cameo’s of other players,,, it’s just a great time :D

bet on it by selenophim (T) 13.3k // this is a ~classic~ literally I keep seeing this fic because I like to stalk the relationship tags (LOL) and since it’s so good, I keep seeing it (also LOL). This may be SakuAtsu, but this is Osamu supremacy, again I don’t take criticism LOL.

Just as much by Sapphirine (NR) 16.1k // this is peak gay panic as demonstrated by one Miya Atsumu hehe. This fic is so FLUFF but also PINE! I’ll just be sitting here with my 851 million microorganisms to keep me company cause I’M SINGLE LOL.

every action has an equal and opposite reaction by akanemnida (T) 10.4k // nothing to see here, just Sakusa saying things that make Atsumu’s heart stop ;) I love ~caring~ Sakusa so if you do too, read! But also hello? Perfume drop please,,,,

see this through by basilleia (T) 17.7k // I am shamelessly a HARDCORE Atsumu wears glasses fan, once again, I take absolutely no criticism! Again some ~caring~ Sakusa heheh but also love the twin dynamic in this one!

dogshit (first comes the fall) by kitcassiachan (E) 15.8k // PLEASE CHECK WARNINGS! ngl this was one of the first fics I read for this ship and GOD did it get me hooked onto bottom Sakusa agenda (it really hit different). Of course, I’m not promoting the way this relationship happened (don’t have hate s*x), BUT I have nothing to say other than I had no regrets. RIP (not actually but you’ll get what I mean LOL) Bokuto and Ushiwaka for that matter.

let's get physical by rosegoldwriting (T) 4.3k // I really like medical stuff (you’ll see later LOL) BUT even if you don’t still read it cause IT’S FUNNY OKAY. We gotta love boys day and STD’s~~ (also don’t be stupid like him and get hurt to see hot doctors :))))

all i do is crave by newamsterdam (E) 12.7k // were we waiting for me to bring a 5 + 1 to the table? If so, here it is! We do love the olympics and oblivious Astumu~~

lay it on me (no, really) by ayushi_writes (T) 4.2k // please the way I was hesitant to read it at first but then the ‘being very fond and caring in a homie way haha’ made me read it LOL. The fluff (and Astumu being caring because that is another one of my favorite things to read hehe) in this is almost worth the awkwardness that made me want to go put my head into a hole like an ostrich LOLOLOLOL.

ink blossoms by entrechat (T) 8.1k // I think this fic IS SO CUTE OMG. I love the way Omi sits in the shop to draw was ADORABLE and making them do that to get tattoos? Smart af (and v respectful we stan). Also, I love flower meanings :D

crimson colored lotus by sieges (M) 16.5k // (cp) this was a demon slayer AU LOL. TBH I haven’t watched DS, but you honestly don’t really need to in order to read this LOL. It’s explained really well and the writing is AMAZING! It’s not a linear fic, but you can read it in order if you so choose.

where i want to be by tookumade (G) 8.8k // THIS ONE ahhhhhh so cute I love it. Omi trying SO hard in this relationship and Atsumu being so understanding. I love it here :’)))))

three roses and a smile by strawberrycitrus (T) 19.7k // I LOVE THIS ONE not only cause I love professor AUs (I do, I LOVE THOSE) but also it’s just some great writing :D I really love their interactions and the misunderstanding killed me ahhhhh.

If you were wondering, I already have 50+ fics (yes I counted but no I’m not done looking so there will probably have to be some cuts D:) lined up for pt2 AND I took out series in another post, so yeah this is why it’s a cursed draft hahahaa..... I hope you enjoyed cause SakuAtsu is my life and blood.

#sakuatsu #haikyuu fanfic rec #haikyuu fic recs #fanfic recs #manga #anime #omi’s birthday post #cause I love him #pls don’t come for me #I’m getting to the next one soon #I promise #teehee #we’re here for a good time #and a long one too ig?#haikyuu #hq

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egg-emperor · 4 years ago

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Hi! Feel free to ignore this, but do you think Eggman would ever want a family of his own, perhaps after he had taken over the world? Would he be a good father?

I’m not very comfortable with this subject and would usually avoid answering these kinds of questions but I might as well answer it at least once, so people can know my thoughts on it and I can link back to this next time. I’m not sure if what I’m about to share is a very popular opinion, so I apologize but I’m going to be honest.

I can’t picture him ever wanting a family because I feel it’s out of character for him, which is something I’ve always liked about the main canon and disliked about separate ones that portray otherwise. As I said in this post, I don’t see him being interested in settling down under any circumstance.

That includes after he’s taken over the world because his focus is set on turning it into the empire of his dreams and ruling over it by himself. He’ll be just as much of a busy man as he builds his empire and makes his true vision a reality, so there would be no time. Plus, he’ll feel like a god above everyone when they can no longer deny his power. He’ll expect to be hailed and worshipped and those that won’t abide by the rules will face the consequences.

So I think it's highly unlikely that he’ll see anyone as an equal to create a family with. I also think he'd feel a similar way about leaving the empire to anyone else to continue after his death. It doesn't exist for anyone to inherit, he doesn't want anyone to be the heir to his throne. He's spent years working so hard to accomplish his dreams of an empire that's for him to rule and isn't willing to share it. If he dies and has to leave his empire to someone, he'll leave it to his robots, he doesn't need it to be another living being.

There's also the consideration that he’s getting old. He’s likely in his mid-50s to early 60s and while I do love to headcanon that he’s still getting action at his age, he certainly wouldn't want to try raising children lol. He hasn’t been interested in it all his life and wouldn’t suddenly want it so much later on down the line either. I'd see him wanting no part of it, and if he did end up in that situation he wouldn't be cut out for it.

He’s a very narcissistic, selfish, and dangerous man. I don’t think anyone would trust him around children, considering that he's always trying to kill Sonic and friends, even eight-year-old Tails. Yes, he tries to kill them because they’re his worst enemies and not just any random kid but I highly doubt that anyone would trust him around any of them because of that. And from Eggman's perspective, it just wouldn't interest him to have any of his own.

Game universe Eggman is disconnected from humans and they've never implied that he's uncomfortable with it. The only company he has are assistance robots and lackeys that he just uses until he doesn’t need them anymore, then discards them. I see him as a true lone wolf type at heart. He hasn't even been shown to be comfortable with one human living with him, let alone a family.

He hasn’t been seen as being much of a fatherly type figure towards his robots either. He hits and talks down to Orbot and Cubot and as much as I love the Eggdaddy and Metal SONic dynamic, it's the Archie and IDW canons that made Metal like more of a son to him. In the game canon, he doesn't seem to have much of an attachment to him, going by what I've observed and analyzed.

Now don’t get me wrong, I have an entire Eggdaddy and Metal SONic tag and I think it’s a sweet idea. I enjoy the instances we see outside of the game universe. But the closest we've gotten to Eggman appearing to be a father-type figure to him in the game canon would be in the Olympics with their cute victory animation and all, but then again, that's a spin-off series.

I think that if game Eggman ever desired to be a father figure, it would be to robots and Chao. I think he prefers robots because he doesn't have to feed and take care of them since he's only focused on feeding and taking care of himself lol. That's why he doesn't have what it takes to provide for human kids at the same time, not with the amount of care and investment parents should have.

I think he idles Metal Sonic most of the time when he isn't using him for his plans so he doesn't live as if he's a full-time father. But you could say that he'd be a good father to him if he treated him to something nice whenever he did well. There are a few scenarios throughout my Eggdaddy and Metal SONic tag, but here's one example. He also has robots like the Egg Pawns, Fighters, and Robos which closely resemble aspects of his appearance, so he can see himself in them as if they're his kids too.

He could check in on his Chao to tend to them every now and then like he's their father but I think that most days he'd have robots visit his gardens and handle it for him because he's often too busy to feed and take care of them, which is the biggest hassle of owning them for him. I talked about that a bit in this post. That's also another reason why I don't think he'd be cut out for tending to humans.

I'm uncomfortable with the idea of him reproducing in the traditional means as a whole and even if he acquired a family through other means, I still don't think he'd be a family man. I shared my thoughts on it here. In that post, I also talk about how he might go about reproduction in nontraditional ways if it was the last option, such as if his plans of attempting to prolong his lifespan so he can rule his empire for longer failed.

Thank you for giving me the option to ignore this because it is an uncomfortable subject for me, but I figured that I'd finally get my thoughts on it out there so I can link back to this the next time I'm asked. I'm not mad at this so don't worry, but I do usually prefer not to answer these types of questions. Sorry about that, and I hope my answer isn't disappointing but these are my true thoughts on it.

But remember that I'm always open to talking about him being a bit fatherly to robots and Chao though because they're cool and fun to discuss and it's still a way for him to be a dad! ^^

#asks #opinion #dr eggman #eggman #dr robotnik #dr. eggman #headcanons #my post

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crystaljins · 4 years ago

Text

River lead me home | 06

Characters: Kim Seokjin x reader

Word count: 5.6k

Synopsis: Ever since coming to the human realm when you were child, nothing seems to fit, and this was just supposed to be a simple roadtrip to help you find yourself.

Is that too much to ask for?

Spin-off to A long journey home

Rating: Teens

Genre: Adventure, fluff, angst

Notes: This is like the third or fourth time I’ve forgotten to post the chapter LOL!! Anyway, we’re fast approaching the end and I’m so tempted to draw it out because I’m not ready to say goodbye T.T but i’m also reaching the point where i can’t even remember what happens in each chapter LOL I read the cute messages you guys send and I have to go back and re-read to know what youre talking about ahaha

Also I feel like there hasn’t been enough asks about Jungkook’s role in this story and hopefully that will change after this chapter LOL

Tags: @blue1928 @veeparkersstuff

Masterlist

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 FINAL

As the three of you prepare to depart the next morning, Ayla catches Jin as he’s packing up the supplies provided to him. The Psittanurans had been generous in their rewards and you all have abundant supplies to last you through until you reach the human realm once more.

“I apologise for offending Jungkook,” Ayla announces, as she helps Jin sort through the various medical supplies the Psittanurans had gifted to him. He’s not entirely sure on the function of each object, and so Ayla had offered to talk him through everything.

Jin pauses in his examination of a bottle of sharp-smelling liquid to glance at Ayla in surprise.

“Don’t mind him.” Jin says dismissively with a warm smile. “He has the manners of a sewer rat. In fact, if you want to execute him for his disrespect, feel free to.”

Ayla’s eyes go wide, her bright yellow iris peering at Jin in absolute horror.

“I would never do such a thing!” She cries. “Do you not care at all about your wish?”

“My wish?” Jin echoes in confusion. He can’t say he has a specific wish- mostly for peace and quiet, but the timing for Ayla to bring up a wish seems strange. She tilts her head curiously to the side.

“Is it not your wish he must fulfill? Is he (Y/N)’s pixie, then?” She wonders aloud. Jin stares, completely confused.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say he belongs to either of us- he’s just kind of there. Like a toe fungus- hard to get rid of and painful to look at.” He snorts.

“That’s strange. Usually pixies stay with the creature who made the wish, but it doesn’t sound like either of you have made a wish.” Ayla observes. Jin pauses as he packs away the last of his medical kit- the niggling feeling he had felt last night about Jungkook returns.

“Wish?” He tests the word aloud. It does sound vaguely familiar- if he reflects on his schooling from before the war, he does vaguely recall something about pixies and wishes. But he can’t think what it is, and his memory is frustratingly blank.

“Do you not know the origin of pixies? I would have thought an ancient species like a guardian would know everything there is to know about the species that inhabit this realm.” Ayla observes. Jin frowns. Perhaps, if his people had not been driven heartlessly from the realm they spent generations protecting, he would have the extensive knowledge that Ayla seems to expect of him.

“Refresh my memory.” He says slowly.

“A pixie is born of a desperate wish.” She explains. “And their goal and purpose in life is to see that wish come to fruition.”

Jin blinks. Jungkook, in all the years Jin has known him, has never mentioned anything with regards to a goal or purpose. All he’s ever done is get into trouble alongside you and antagonise small, fluffy dogs.

“So, you think Jungkook has a wish he has to fulfill?” Jin questions. Ayla nods.

“He must. He could not exist otherwise. Although, it is strange that neither of you seem to know about that. Can you not think of a wish he must fulfil?” She asks curiously. Jin frowns as he recalls the night before. Jungkook had been frustratingly vague when discussing why you had to see the river. And casting a spell to force you to see it had been oddly out of character for him. Could his strange behaviour have to do with whatever the wish is? What even is the wish? Is it yours? Why have you never mentioned it before?

“I can’t.” Jin finally admits. “This is the first time I’m hearing about how pixies are born. So then, what happens when they fulfil that wish?” He wonders. Ayla shakes her head.

“I’m afraid that knowledge has been lost to time. No one has even seen a pixie in a very long time- they aren’t exactly common.” She admits. “The last one was probably the Saishta Queen’s pixie; it managed to convince two guardians to steal the young dragon prince. So, they have a bit of a bad reputation.” She admits.

Jin is silent. Taehyung had been involved with the dragon prince incident, he knows, and his new girlfriend had gotten dragged into the fray too. But as far as he knew, Taehyung had never met any pixie. And Jungkook, as annoying and pesky as he is, would never do something as awful as that. Not to mention it’s been thirteen years since Jin met the little pixie. If he’d had bad intentions, he could have acted far sooner. It’s far more likely that you made a wish and you didn’t realise you’d created Jungkook.

Still, he can’t help but wonder. If a pixie is born of a desperate wish, what was the wish that led to Jungkook’s birth? And what could Jungkook’s goal be in leading you to this realm, and to the river?

Ayla takes her leave then, bidding Jin a warm farewell and wishing him well on the rest of his journey. She leaves Jin alone in the little hut he had taken residence in for the night.

“It’s not anything bad.” Jin starts at the sudden voice and turns to find Jungkook sitting comfortably on the little cabinet at Jin’s bedside. Neither he nor Ayla had registered the little pixie’s presence, which is disconcerting to say the least.

“What?” Jin snaps, irritated by the way he was so startled. Jungkook stretches and gets to his feet.

“The wish. It’s not for anything bad. So, you don’t have to worry.” He tells Jin with a yawn.

“How come you never mentioned it before?” Jin asks curiously. Jungkook shrugs.

“Well, I can’t. We can’t speak of the wish or the owner of the wish aloud.” He explains. “And as for why I waited so long... I guess I was afraid. I don’t know what will happen to me when I grant the wish.” He confesses.

Jin stares at Jungkook for a long time, and for the first time since he’s known the little pixie, Jin realises that Jungkook is very good at hiding behind a smile. He can’t imagine what it must be like, having only a handful of people and some moths to talk to for thirteen years. Watching them grow up without you- not being able to share in the bonds and friendships they formed.

“Will... will something happen to you?” Jin questions hesitantly. Jungkook shrugs and shoots him a grin, but there’s a tired quality to it.

“I certainly hope not.” He answers, but the implication is clear: something might. Jin feels a tremor of unease at the thought.

“Are you guys done? We really should be heading off?” You call, popping your head in through the doorway of Jin’s little hut. You’re already sporting your hello kitty backpack and you’ve changed into a fresh pair of clothes. Jin wasn’t afforded the luxury of fresh clothes, but luckily the Psittanurans had some travel garments they could lend him. It fits a little strangely given their unusual body shapes, but their tendency to make loose-fitting, free flowing clothes has worked in Jin’s favour.

“Almost.” Jin says quickly. Jungkook flutters up to land cross-legged on Jin’s shoulder. Your gaze catches the exchange, and you arch an eyebrow. Obviously, it’s strange to see Jin and Jungkook getting along. But you brush it aside and offer Jin a smile instead.

“Great! Because apparently the river is only a few days away! Isn’t that great?” You ask cheerfully. Jin struggle to keep a straight face as he recalls Ayla’s words from last night.

“Hey,” Jin says slowly because he doesn’t think it’s right to keep such knowledge from you. “About the river-“

“Let’s get going!” Jungkook interrupts, leaping across the distance from Jin’s shoulder to your own like he’s an Olympic athlete. He stabilises himself against your neck and glares at Jin over his shoulder. The meaning of the look is clear enough- don’t say anything. Jin bites his lip- he’s not sure it’s right to keep it secret.

But something stops him. He doesn’t know why. Something about the tone of Jungkook’s voice when he confessed that he didn’t know what would happen to him... it lingers in Jin’s mind.

With a sigh, Jin shakes his head and steps so that he’s standing shoulder to shoulder with you.

“Have you said goodbye to everyone?” Jin asks, because he knows you’d somehow made a whole bunch of friends during the festivities last night. It was surprising, to say the least. You’d never been the social kind or the type to win the attention of people you’d just met.

Or maybe you’d just never been in the right situation to do so. Jin feels an uncomfortable pang in his chest at the thought.

“Yup! So, there’s nothing left to do now except see the river.” You respond. You glance sidewards at Jin. “What were you and Jungkook talking about?”

“About your embarrassing crush on him.” Jungkook drawls.

Your eyes go wide, and Jin feels his heart drop into his stomach. He can’t believe Jungkook would blatantly throw him under the bus like that- actually, no. He can believe that.

“I... I...” you stutter, and your cheeks glow red and if the darn pixie didn’t have such quick reactions, Jin would be taking great pleasure in flinging him through the air at the nearest tree. Your mouth trembles and you look like you’re about to cry and if the revelation of your feelings didn’t already have Jin feeling like the scum of the earth, then this most certainly does.

“(Y/N),” Jin calls hastily, already desperately trying to plan how to placate you. But then you swallow and stare at him with hardened eyes.

“I don’t have a crush on you.” You assert firmly.

The words die on Jin’s tongue. He doesn’t know why, but they do. It’s like you’ve just slapped him and he’s still reeling from the shock. He opens his mouth a few times, but no words come out- he just flounders uselessly like a goldfish that had foolishly leapt out of the safety of its tank.

And it’s stupid. It’s positively idiotic. But he can’t help but think… you didn’t have to deny it so aggressively. It’s not like... it’s not like your feelings are a secret! And when you deny them like that... it just sounds so convincing! Wouldn’t a simple “huh I don’t know what you’re talking about?” suffice?

You take the opportunity of Jin’s speechlessness to get a head start, huffily storming off towards the eastern exit of the village. Jin shoots Jungkook a glare.

“Very nice.” Jin snaps. Jungkook shrugs.

“It was me or you, man. And sorry, but I choose me.” He says simply.

Not for the first time, Jin restrains the urge to give Jungkook the solid flick he deserves.

Luckily, though you have a multitude of irritating personality traits, holding grudges is not one of them. It does not take long for the wonders of the next leg of the journey to catch your eye and before long you are chattering Jin’s ear off like there’s no tomorrow, about the wildlife you’ve spotted or about the weird plants. It makes him smile, because this trip is finally being enjoyed in the way you intended it to be.

For the first time since starting on this wretched journey, Jin realises he is enjoying himself. The sunlight streams warmly through the trees and gradually the metallic flora native to the Golden Plains starts to infiltrate the surrounding shrubbery. With your detour to the marshlands, you had essentially skipped the starlit wonder of Mountains of Delaria, but you will still get to see the magnificent Golden Plains as they are the only way to access the river after leaving the swamplands.

It’s so rare to see you smiling and cheerful. Usually you’re hunched and awkward, like a puppy that’s just been scolded for urinating on the carpet. But here, you’re bright- he’s even go so far as to say that you’re radiant, in the afternoon sunlight, surrounded by the mystically glinting metallic plants. You’re in your element in a way you’ve never really been before.

It makes a warm, fond feeling bloom in the centre of his chest. This is the (Y/N) that everyone has been trying to get back for so long. The girl with sunshine in her smile and bright, eager eyes. He had almost forgotten that girl existed but seeing her now- seeing you now- has him smiling like a dope.

“What will you do when you go back?” It takes him a moment to even realise he’s asked the question. You stare at him, a bit surprised, while Jungkook shoots him a look like he’s gone crazy. Jin almost curses his big mouth, but then you smile at him.

“I don’t know.” You confess. You turn your gaze to where a low hanging flower dips into your path. Its petals glint a wonderful metallic purple and when you run your fingers over them, they are stiff like sheets of metal.

Jin prides himself on being a bit of a smooth talker- no one can be as popular with women as he as without a bit of a silver tongue, so to speak. So, no one is more surprised than himself at the tactless words he blurts out next.

“Would you ever stay here?” He regrets the words as soon as he says them. What if he’s giving you ideas? His mum would kill him- your mum would kill him. And he’d never be able to visit- he’d wait a week and two years would have passed for you. Within a year, 120 years would have passed in this realm. You’d be long dead from old age by that stage. And yet... the question has been weighing on his mind without him even realising it. You’re so happy and at ease here- if you can’t ever settle in the other realm, does that mean the only place you’d ever be happy is here? His heart leaps into his throat in anticipation of your answer. Jungkook simply stares in confusion.

“No.” You say, and the firmness in your voice stills the panicked racing of his heart. “There’s nothing here for me, now.” You shoot him a furtive, shy glance. “Our family is in the other realm.” You remind him. “This was only ever supposed to be a short trip.”

For some reason, his slow, stupid brain lingers on the way that you say “our family”. Not “your family”. Or “my family”. But “our family”. Like the two of you are family. That strangely fond feeling from earlier returns, but with a vengeance, carried on the wings of the thousands of butterflies that decide to take residence in his stomach. Jungkook’s incredulous expression morphs, and it irritates the way he looks strangely smug at Jin’s sudden floundering. Jin suddenly finds himself missing the time he had with you earlier, without Jungkook there to eavesdrop and pass judgement.

“You seem really happy here, is all.” Is all Jin can manage.

You turn to face Jin fully and your answering smile is annoyingly bright.

“I’ve wanted to do this for years! Of course I’d be happy.” You remind him. “But me being happy here doesn’t suddenly make it my home. It stopped being my home the day that...” you trail away for a second, and your smile falters. “Anyway, it hasn’t been my home for a long time.” You say dismissively.

“So, what did you think this trip would achieve, then?” Jin asks curiously. “And why now, right after a fight with your mother? You know she must be worried sick about you.”

You grimace, staring straight ahead. The trees are starting to thin out, and in the gaps between the foliage, an endless expanse of blue peeks through.

“Are you trying to scold me again?” You joke. “I get that it was irresponsible. And selfish too. But Jin,” your expression as you gaze at him is so serious and sincere that for a moment, Jin doesn’t know who you are. It’s like an entirely different person gazes you at him. “I really, truly want to be happy for my mother. I love her more than anything. I want to be celebrating her marriage. I do. But I can’t... I can’t just forget about him. I can’t just move on.” Tears well in your eyes as you come clean. It’s been a very long time since you’ve been vulnerable and open with Jin like this and it surprises him to realise that he missed this. He’s missed having your trust and affection. He doesn’t know how he lost it, but he’s strangely relieved to know that he’s slowly gaining it back. “I’ve tried so damn hard. But I won’t be able to smile at her wedding or celebrate with her until I’ve said goodbye.” You confess. “That’s what this trip was. It’s a chance to say goodbye. So yeah, I’m happy to be here. I’m happy to be seeing the things he wanted me to see. But no, this isn’t my home- home is where you guys are.”

In that moment, Jin realises something. He doesn’t know how he hadn’t realised it sooner, with it staring him right in the face all this time. But never has it been clearer to him than in this moment- you’ve grown up. Somewhere, somehow along the line, you stopped being that little girl who needed him to hold her hand or stand up to her bullies in school. That’s why you’ve stopped looking like the girl he’s known all his life. It’s because you’ve stopped being that girl. And yet, at the same time, you haven’t. The person who stands before him is the young woman he’s cared for most of his life... but also a young woman he doesn’t know. Someone who can defeat Forest Spirits with her mind and infiltrate enemy encampments with nothing but her wits to save her friends. Someone who was brave enough to take the steps to recover after losing everything. And yeah, maybe you took a few bum steps along the way. Maybe you didn’t settle in as easily as he did. But you’re so much better than what he thought you could be- what anyone thought you could be.

And he’s so incredibly proud of y-

“Look out!” You’re shoving him to the ground before he can even finish the thought. He winces as he hits the ground.

“(Y/N)!” Jungkook cries, and Jin’s never heard that tone of absolute terror in the pixie’s voice before.

“Jin.” You gasp, standing where he had been a mere moment prior. He doesn’t understand what’s happening, until he gazes over your shoulder and he spots it. The arrow, sprouting from your left shoulder, right through the hot pink strap of your backpack. The blood, pouring from the fresh wound. The agony in your expression.

And he’s a doctor- he’s seen much worse in the ED but for the first time in his life the sight of blood makes him dizzy enough that he may pass out. You’re bleeding- you’ve been shot. Worse- you were shot instead of him. That arrow’s trajectory should have lodged itself directly where his heart had been moments ago, but instead you took the hit.

You took an arrow for him. He should be dead... but you... but you...

Time seems to slow as the colour drains from your face. You crumple, and Jin scrambles forward, barely managing to catch you before you hit the ground. He cradles you, his expression manic.

“You idiot!” He all but snarls. “Are you crazy?”

“I’m sorry!” You gasp, clinging desperately to the loose material of his shirt. “My body... moved on its own.”

Jin has never really experienced heartbreak before. For a guy who spends a lot of time dating around, he’s always seemed to escape with his heart intact.

But the weak, confused tone to your voice might just do it. If he’d known that it hurt this much to get your heart broken, he might never have risked it before. Nothing can prepare him for the sheer agony of realising you’d thoughtlessly throw away your life in exchange for his own. That the reflex is so deeply ingrained in you that you didn’t hesitate to throw yourself in the path of an arrow for him.

“Jin!” Jungkook cries. “Jin, they’ve found us! We have to go!”

Jin doesn’t need to be told twice. He scrabbles to his feet, pausing to hoist your prone form over his shoulder in a fireman carry and then legging it as fast as he can, just as the sound of a Saishta hunting horn erupts in the shrubbery behind you.

There is no living creature in this realm that can catch up to a guardian that has decided to flee. Even a guardian like Jin. Especially a guardian like Jin, who has desperation and panic fuelling his desperate sprint. You scrabble at his shirt, trying to stabilise yourself, and he ignores the way he can feel blood soaking into his shirt from where you grab at him.

He doesn’t know how long he sprints mindlessly, desperately across the glittering fields of the Golden Plains, but right at the point where his lungs burn and he thinks he may collapse, he feels you tugging at his shirt.

“Over there!” You gasp, and he turns his head to follow where you point with your good arm. It’s a slightly raised hill, with some sort of abandoned burrow. There are various megafauna that inhabit the Golden Plains and live below ground- this must be one of those.

Jin quickly decides he’d much rather take on an angry giant rabbit than a troupe of highly trained Saishtas.

The burrow entrance is small, and he’s glad you have sharp eyes, for anyone else would have missed it. But after crawling through, although you have significantly more trouble with a blood arrow sprouting from your shoulder blade (Jin just ends up snapping the protruding shaft so that you can drag yourself through) it widens into an earthen alcove that’s just the right size for two guardians and a pixie to conceal themselves.

You collapse weakly on the earthen floor, pale and gasping for breath.

“Let me see.” Jin demands, when he’s gained his composure enough to examine the wound. He’s still embarrassingly out of breath, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever get his breath back. He helps you into a sitting position so that your back is to him.

You offer no protest to him blatantly ripping the damaged strap off your backpack so that he can tug it over your other arm and toss it aside. It’s probably a testament to how much pain you’re in- that backpack had been a gift from Taehyung, and you treasured it like he’d bought you a diamond or something.

The arrowhead doesn’t go deep, thankfully. The backpack strap provided enough padding to reduce the damage, and your shoulder blade prevented the arrowhead from piercing through into your thoracic cavity. But there’s significant muscle damage and if you were a human, you’d probably have lost all use of the arm. Blood streams from the wound and the material of your shirt is completely soaked. But the bleeding has mostly stopped, though your back is sticky with congealed blood.

You aren’t going to die. Though you are weak and crumpled and pale from blood loss, you’ll survive. Especially with the enhanced healing your guardian nature lends you- if Jin can remove the arrow and stop infection from setting in, you’ll be fine.

He feels the strength drain out of him at that thought. All that’s been keeping him going since the arrow hit him has been sheer terror. Now, with the space to breathe, he feels he doesn’t have the strength to hold himself up.

He drops his head against your uninjured shoulder, and he feels you stiffen but you don’t crumble under his weight.

“You’re such an idiot.” He says, but there’s no real malice in his voice- just a broken, exhausted tone he didn’t know he was capable of.

A sharp jabbing pain in his temple startles him into sitting back up. Jungkook has kicked him.

“Maybe you can save the exhausted lover boy act for after you’ve stopped her from bleeding out.” Jungkook points out drily, his arms folded across his tiny chest.

“It’s... not that bad.” You grit, turning to face Jin. You’re pale and sweat pools at your temple and forehead. The pained expression on your face is enough to kick Jin into gear. Jungkook’s right. He doesn’t have time to break down now. The Saishtas are hot on your heels and you need first aid. And it’s nothing but open plains out there and golden, waist high grass. There will be nowhere to hide or escape once you set out for the river. If the Saishtas come across you, it’s outrun them, or defeat them. Jin doubts the three of you could do either in your current states.

Jin swallows and reaches for the satchel with the medical kit the Psittanurans had gifted him with. He’s just blindly trusting that the substances they gave him actually do what they claim and aren’t just hopeful voodoo, but it’s not like he has a bag of IV fluids and a sterile surgical kit handy to stitch you up.

“I’m going to have to pull the arrow out.” He warns you, reaching for your torn bag strap. He balls it up in his hand and holds it up to your face.

“As much as it hurts, bite into this.” He tells you. “I don’t have any local and so this is going to hurt like hell.”

You look slightly uneasy, but nod your head, leaning forward to take the balled-up strap between your teeth.

Jin pulls out a small, dark vial which Ayla had told him was a coagulating liquid. Muscles bleed like hell and if the arrow has hit any vessels, you may pass out from blood loss. He swallows and braces himself. He can do this. He’s a doctor. He reaches deep into him and recalls the guy who worked in the ED and didn’t bat an eye at knife injuries or chainsaw accidents or that one drug addict with a prolapsed rectum.

“Ok, I’m going to do it now.” He warns you. He then plants one hand flat on your uninjured shoulder and grips the broken arrow shaft in the other.

“On the count of three.” He tells you, and you nod. Your fingers dig into the ground in anticipation.

“Three.” He says, and then he yanks the arrow.

Your answering scream is muffled by the bag strap, and you spit it out quickly as he empties the bottle of coagulant over the open wound, which is now filling up with fresh blood.

“That wasn’t on the count of three!” You shriek. Jin nods sheepishly.

“Ok. Well. There’s no use crying over the past.” He offers helpfully. He shoots a look at Jungkook. “Turn around. I’m taking her shirt off.”

Both you and Jungkook splutter.

“Why?” The two of you cry in eerie unison. You even turn fully to face Jin for good measure. He merely arches an eyebrow at you.

“I know you don’t have a degree in medicine or anything... but generally bandages don’t include your tattered shirt edges sticking to the wound.” Jin explains patiently. “(Y/N), it’s fine. I’m literally a doctor. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

It’s interesting that despite the blood loss, you can turn that particular shade of red.

“That doesn’t make it any better.” You mumble, even as you turn away and obediently unbutton your drenched shirt.

“It doesn’t have to be the whole shirt.” He murmurs comfortingly, pulling out a strip of material from the medical kit. Ayla had told him that it’s hard to get bandaging material to stay in place for silky Psittanuran feathers, so they often enchant materials with a special adhesive. “Just enough that your shirt isn’t sticking to it. I need to clean it up because the last thing we need is you getting an infection.”

You nod and drop your shirt enough to expose the left half of your upper back. Jin clears his throat awkwardly as he slides the thick strap of your sports bra out of the way and notes that it’s awfully warm in this little burrow.

“I didn’t know they made hello kitty sports bras.” Jungkook observes from where he’s hovering off to the side. You whip your head around to glare at him.

“Get OUT!” You snap. He holds his hands up.

“But you need me! What if Jin starts enjoying himself? You know how he feels about hello kitty-“ the empty coagulant vial being launched at him by your good arm is the only prompting Jungkook needs to go keep watch outside.

Which leaves you and Jin alone. The air feels thick and sluggish in the burrow as Jin works cleaning off the wound and applying the bandage. You’ve gone quiet- whether from exhaustion or pain, it’s hard to tell, but Jin has to help you tug your shirt back into place when he finally finishes.

He crawls over to your hello kitty bag and pulls out your water bottle.

“Why’d you do it?” He asks quietly as you take a long drink from your bottle. You don’t answer for a long time, but finally you drop the bottle.

“I told you. My body moved on its own.” You offer.

“Exactly. Why?” He asks, and he doesn’t mean for so much anger to leech into his tone. It’s just, he feels like the stress and fear and agony of the past week catching up to him and he doesn’t know how to deal with it other than being angry. Angry at you, for deciding to go on this journey in the first place. Angry at this realm for taking your father’s life. Angry at himself, for being pathetic enough to have to constantly be protected and saved by you.

But most of all, angry that your first instinct in danger is to disregard your own life in exchange for his own. He doesn’t even know what answer he’s looking for- that you love him? That it’s just instinct to save people? Neither answer would be particularly comforting.

“I don’t know.” You retort, and your tone is defensive in response to his barely concealed anger. “What do you want me to say, Jin? I heard the arrow coming and I didn’t exactly have time to think.”

“Exactly! That’s your problem!” He cries. “You never think! You only ever act! What would I have done, if your wound had been more serious? Have you ever once stopped to think about how that sort of thing affects me? How it feels to know you’re constantly doing things like fighting armed robbers and getting into fights and treating your life like it’s a piece of garbage to be thrown away without a thought?”

“That’s not what I-“ you protest, but Jin cuts you off.

“What if you had died? What if I had lost you? What would I be supposed to do?” He cries, and he surprises himself when his voice catches.

You go silent. Your words have been lost.

It actually reminds you of when Jin first caught you sneaking over to this realm. That fight seems like a lifetime ago, and he had scolded you for similar recklessness then. But strangely, it feels different. The look in Jin’s eyes is different. He’s... He’s not angry, you realise. He’s scared.

He flinches when the hand of your uninjured arm lands on his forearm. You watch him curiously, your movements cautious as though you are approaching a scared animal. He certainly feels like one.

Slowly, you slide your hand up his arm until you can hook your arm around the back of his neck and pull him into an awkward hug. It’s a little weird- you kind of have to awkwardly straddle him to properly hug him in the limited space, and he is still an unmoving like a wooden board.

“It’s the same for me.” You answer softly. “I can’t lose you. I’m sorry- I didn’t have time to stop and think but I’ll never stop and think when your life is in danger.” You pull away to meet his gaze. “I’ll always just act. You’ll just have to get used to that.”

Jin is silent, as he stares up at you. A weird feeling overcomes him, at your proximity. It’s warm and overwhelming. And, if he’s being honest, it scares him a little with the intensity of it. Like, if he were to pull you downwards and hold you tight, nothing would ever go wrong again. It’s not entirely unfamiliar, but at the same time he’s certain he’s never felt like this in his entire life.

“See I told you! It’s the hello kitty! He can’t resist!” Jin startles at the sound of Jungkook’s voice and you scramble off him like he’s burned you. He tries not to dwell on the fact that he instantly misses the warmth of your body. Suddenly the burrow feels too cold.

Jungkook tuts and shakes his head.

“See, good thing I came in here. Who knows what kind of stunt lover boy would have pulled?” He scolds. “Anyway, I think you’ve had enough time to recover. I guarantee you the Saishta’s are hunting for us as we speak and so we better get a move on.”

You nod, adjusting your clothes awkwardly and gathering your things.

Jin follows suit, almost robotically. He can’t shake the feeling that something huge just happened, but he doesn’t know what.

But his stomach churns because there’s one thing he knows for sure: He can’t lose you. He’s so, so afraid.

#jin x reader #kim seokjin x reader #castlebangtan #thebtswritersclub #seokjin x reader #writing

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rmd-writes · 3 years ago

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Let’s do this! Answer the (modified) version of Noah Reid’s 20 Questions for The Minutes.

thanks for the tag: @steropticons

Best thing about being [your nationality]? The weather? And healthcare

Zodiac sign? Virgo

If you were a potato, how would you be cooked? Deep fried - hot chips/French fries are god tier food

Favourite musical or TV show? Schitt’s Creek

Favourite play or movie? Legally Blonde, Elle Woods is an icon

Favourite Schitt’s Creek character? If I had to pick just one? David

Favourite album? Pass - can’t choose just one

Favourite Olympic sport? Swimming

Go-to dance move? Not sure it has a name lol I do love to dance though!

Most recent TV binge? Mrs Maisel (just the end of s3 and the new eps of s4). Am psyching myself up to binge s3 of Lonestar though!

Favourite season? awards. (Spring actually, but it lasts about 2 weeks here before we get 6 months of summer)

Favourite seasoning? Garlic

Favourite donut? Can’t beat a hot fresh cinnamon doughnut

Do you collect anything? Books that I don’t read?

What do you want to be when you grow up? Apparently I AM a grown up…

Bucket list item? More travel

What are you an expert on? Not sure there’s anything I’d profess to be an expert on, functioning on not enough sleep maybe

Last text sent? I’ll do it on Saturday after swimming

Gloves or mitts? Neither, I have bo use for them where I live

Three words to describe Noah’s Broadway debut? Boom baby! 💥

Tag as many people as you like: @brewersholland @missgeevious @this-will-be-our-year @this-is-not-nothing @neelyo67 and anyone else who hasn’t been tagged yet but wants to play!

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najatheangel · 3 years ago

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[🌴] - Tag Game

tagging: @melonmochimoon @mairahcore @dreamyycore @bigbrainenergytingz @soleilsuhh @madeofsaltiness @earth-to-that-asian @fairyjunn @purplepsycho03 @mochiable @trippy-dejun and whoever wants to give it a go!

what day is your birthday? 07/26/00

what’s your favorite color? I love green! My fav color to wear tho is burgundy.

what’s your lucky number? 12

do you have any pets? Yes, I have 2 cats and 1 dog that I love dearly. ☺️❤️

how many pair of shoes you own? Ermm I think 8, but I feel like I only wear 3 pairs of shoes lol.

favorite song? industry baby by lil nas x ft jack harlow & tiger inside by super m.

favorite movie? Hairspray, I’ll never get tired of musicals honestly. 😭✨

what would be your ideal partner? choi san, lee jeno and park chanyeol. Honestly just someone who has goals in life, a passionate lover and who’s committed to me and ONLY ME 100%.

do you want kids? Yess, I’m reaching to 3 or 4🥺

have you gotten in trouble with the law? The worst I got was a car accident so if that counts then yes. 🤦��‍♀️

bath or shower? Shower all the way.

how many pillows do you sleep with? Lmaoo 6 and they still somehow fall off the bed.

what you don’t like when your sleeping? When the tv is not on or when my dog is making too much noise.

what do you have for breakfast? normally a granola bar and a cup of grapes or yogurt. If I get fancy, I normally do waffles, bacon and scrambled eggs.

have you ever tried archery? No, but that would be cool.

favorite fruit? blueberries!

favorite swear word? shit or bitch. Especially singing it, idk it’s a good stress relief.

do you have any scars? I still have a lot of dark spots pretty much everywhere from when I fell numerous times at recess as a kid and I have stretch marks on my thighs, belly and arms.

Are you a good liar? No and don’t dare to do it anymore cause my parents wasn’t haven’t it.

what’s your personality? INFJ

innie or outie? innie

right or left handed? Always use my righty.

favorite food? chicken alfredo, but honestly any kind of pasta.

favorite foreign food? I love Indian food and the dish I always eat is saag paneer or chicken curry!

are you clean or messy? Both tbh, but at least my room is clean for now.

most used phrase? bruh, you what? or really?

how long does it take for you to get ready? On a regular hang out day I would say 2 hours, on a fancy day I would say a good 3. Like it’s expensive to be a women, a black one at that. Also I didn’t care at that you know what they say…being fashionably late.

do you talk to yourself? I call it thinking out loud, but yeah lol. 😬

do you sing to yourself? Yes and I even make up my own goofy songs when I have road rage or when I’m doing laundry.

are you a good singer? I’d say I’m decent…, but if y’all heard my voice before I’d let y’all be the judge of that. 😉

are you a gossip? Not gonna lie I like being nosey and sometimes ppl just trust me to tell me their drama, but I never go off telling other ppl. I would say I’m nosey more than a gossip.

do you like long or short hair? Long hair takes too much maintenance so short.

favorite school subject? Anything Science. Bill Nye the science guyyyy.

extrovert or introvert? I’m shy so introvert.

what makes you nervous? Doing presentations, making phone calls and meeting new people. Like ugh the anxiety.

who was your first real crush? this cutie that was in my 8th grade class. All I remember was dancing with him to don’t stop believing and everyone was cheering us on that we were the best couple.

how many piercings do you have? Zero.

how fast can you run? Pretty fast, but not enough to join the Olympics.

what color is your hair? Dark brown, but sometimes it turns a lighter brown in the daylight.

what color are your eyes? The same case with my hair, dark brown.

what makes you angry? A lot of things, when people are disrespectful to the people I love. Racists, homophobics, sexist people, and don’t get me started on fake people Omgahddd I be wanting to call them out on their shit so bad. Ignorant people to top it off people that have no knowledge on a specific topic and they have the nerve to speak on it like just be quiet.

do you like your own name? Yess my grandma came up with up so I’ll always cherish it.

do you want a boy or a girl as a child? Honestly I want both, but if I can have like 2 girls and 1 boy that would be even better. Whatever god will bless me with I’ll be the best damn mother them kids would ever have.

what are your strengths? My creativity for sure, my passion and ambition that helps me reach my goals. Fast learner, reliable, loyal, supportive and the ability to speak my mind more.

what are my weaknesses? I have a hard time controlling my emotions that’s my biggest one. Another one is my lack of patience for certain things especially if it’s something I want. Lastly, sometimes I be too lazy, but I can’t help it I be overworking my self to the point i go over the limit.

what’s the color of your bedspread? A lot of shades of purple, green and pink going on.

color of your room? green and purple

#tag games🕹#get to know me 📖

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let-it-raines · 4 years ago

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Walking the Baseline (1/1)

He’s at the top of his game. She’s in the midst of a comeback. The Olympics are just around the corner, and there’s more than gold medals on the line. There’s secrets and personal lives and a lot more at risk than simply losing, but as most know, Killian Jones and Emma Swan hate to lose.

rating: mature (just to err on the safe side)

a/n: Hello, hello, my darlings! I was informed of the @captainswanolympics as I’ve missed so much in my time of only checking messages and posting YWUSS, and I just had to write a tennis AU. If you know me, you know I played tennis back in the day, worked behind the scenes for a professional tennis tournament, and am an avid fan, so the fact that I haven’t written more CS tennis is surprising. lol.

This one is short and sweet, and it’s the first CS I’ve written in months. So I genuinely hope you enjoy it. And no, you don’t have to know tennis to understand 🎾

ao3: | here |

tag list: @qualitycoffeethings @mrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @jonirobinson64 @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @sherifemma @galaxyzxstark @galadriel26 @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @nikkiemms @onepunintendid @bluewildcatfanatic @superchocovian @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @lfh1226-linda @andiirivera @itsfabianadocarmo

-/-

“My legs feel like jelly,” Emma sighs as she sinks into an ice bath. It’s never pleasant, and it may not even help, but it makes her feel better every time. “Like, I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk when I get out of here. I don’t think I can even stand now.”

“You say that after every long match,” David tells her, clicking away at his iPad. There’s no doubt he’s studying her stats and about to pick her apart in a friendly yet incredibly harsh way that is a David trademark. “Is your shoulder okay? Your first serve percentage was up, but your speed was down.”

Yep. He’s so predictable. She knew that was coming the moment she decided to change the speed on her serves.

“I’m fine. I’m tired. I mean, shit, David. It’s like the tour is trying to ruin our bodies. My last two-week break was when? March? It’s almost August, and it’s not going to stop there.”

“You’ve made it before. You can do it again.”

“That’s not encouraging.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to tell me that I don’t have to do this.”

David looks up from his iPad, brow raised, and she knows she’s not going to get the answer she wants. He doesn’t tell her she can quit unless they’re in a heated argument after disagreeing on her service motion or her footwork, which will always be her downfall when she’s exhausted, or any other aspect of her game. That’s what happens when your coach is not only your couch but also your older brother.

“I’m not going to say that. You’re in the quarterfinals. You play against Svitolina, who you have an excellent record against, and then in the semis, it could go either way with French or Stephens. That’s who we’re worried about. We’re not thinking about the finals until we’re in the finals.”

“I’m not thinking about just the finals. I’m thinking about the fact that I played Madrid, Rome, Roland Garros, Eastbourne, Wimbledon, Washington, here. And now I’m supposed to fly to Rio for the Olympics, then fly to Cincinnati, and then New York. And after New York, we almost immediately fly to Beijing, and it doesn’t stop. I get, what? A month and a half off, but it’s not really off time because we spend that time fixing everything for next season. The only way I get a break is if I lose or I get injured, and I don’t want either of those things.”

Emma’s chest heaves as she finishes speaking, the words flying out faster than her mind can come up with them as she runs through her tournament schedule, and David doesn’t blink. He stares at her like he always does, and sometimes she swears it’s like staring at a male version of herself. And she knows what’s coming. She always does. David never got to play past college, the professional circuit too much for his body, and he always pulls the card of how much he would give to be playing right now, to be in her position. She gets it. If she was in his position, she would do the same thing, but right now, all she really wants is to cry.

“You have worked too hard to quit, Emma,” David sighs, giving her a patented big-brother condescending stare. “You are not going to quit. I know this part of the season is rough, but you push through it every year. And imagine how good it’s going to feel when you have a gold medal around your neck or when you have that US Open trophy in your hands. You don’t get to play forever, and you’re the one who said that you weren’t quitting when everyone would have easily expected it. Do you want to prove them right?”

Emma moves in the bath, sinking a little lower, and damn, her sports bra is going to be impossible to get off. Her gaze shifts from David to the TV where ESPN commentators are sitting at a desk, her Nike-approved picture on the screen beside them. They run through the stats of her match and then her overall career stats. She’s twenty-eight, which is apparently at the end of her career according to them, world number seven, which is also abysmal to them somehow, and she is not living up to her potential when she is a former world number one, six-time grand slam champion, and a gold medalist from four years ago in London.

She groans and tries not to think about how much she hates all the people who work for ESPN. They have their favorites and the ones they hate, and since she is not a mediocre American male or one of the all-time greats, she’s somewhere in between. Usually, she doesn’t listen to the comments, to the pundits, to the assholes. She tries to stay away from that because it will drive her into a deep state of negativity, but lately, it’s like she can’t get enough of listening to what people say about her as if it is going to give her some kind of insight to her game.

She doesn’t crave their validation, but maybe, in a twisted way, she does.

“She gave birth sixteen months ago,” Mary Jo sighs. “She came back a year after giving birth. She is not going to be who she was before she had a child. The fact that she’s won enough this year to be in the top ten is amazing when she started with no ranking since there are no tour protections for maternity leave. She’s a champion, and sometimes champions struggle as they get their form back.”

“Sixteen months is a long damn time,” Patrick says, and Emma’s vagina would beg to differ. “She should be back to how she was or she shouldn’t be playing.”

“Have you given birth, Patrick? Because unless you have, I don’t think you get a say.”

“It’s my job to say what I think.”

“Still, I think – ”

The television clicks off, and Emma’s gaze finds its way back to David. “We’re not listening to them. It’ll piss you off. Mary Jo is right. You’re doing amazing, and I don’t want you to forget that.”

Emma doesn’t know if she’s doing amazing, doesn’t feel that way a lot of the time. This job is hard enough, to kill your body while also having the eyes of the world on you, but adding in a baby? It’s nearly impossible. A few other women have done it before her, not all with spectacular returns or returns at all, and she wants to keep getting better and play for long enough that Olivia will be able to see her mom play and remember it.

She’s not just doing it for herself. She’s doing it for her daughter, whose entrance into the world was unplanned, terrifying, and the best damn thing to ever happen to Emma even if she doubts herself in motherhood every day.

“I miss her,” Emma whispers to David, reaching up to play with her necklace, Olivia’s initials engraved in the gold circle. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it two more weeks without seeing her.”

“Do you want me to get Mary Margaret to FaceTime you with her? They’ve been watching your match at home.”

“No, no.” She shakes her head and releases the pendant, her resolve back as she inhales and focuses on her job. “Let’s do the rest of my recovery and talk about the match. I’ll call them when we get back to the hotel. I don’t want to get my mind too much out of the game.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

-/-

She wins her next match. And the next.

She loses in the final.

It stings more than her losses usually do, and there have been a hell of a lot of them, but she wanted to win another premiere event. She’s only been winning small events so far this year and making it to the later stages of the bigger events, but she keeps falling short when it’s time for her to push herself over the limit. Emma knows that her time will come, but she’s exhausted.

-/-

She flies to Rio with the rest of the American team who were playing in Montreal and Toronto, and she sleeps the entire ride down.

It’s the most sleep she’s gotten since she gave birth.

-/-

The 2012 Olympics felt familiar for Emma. The matches happened at Wimbledon, a place she’s known since she was sixteen years old and has watched on TV since she was even younger than that. Tennis players were isolated from the rest of the sports and events, and they all stayed in their usual rented houses and apartments instead of the Village or other hotels. Rio is different and completely unfamiliar. She’s staying in the Village, and while the amenities aren’t the best, the spirit of the Games are everywhere. She’s seeing athletes she’s only ever seen on TV before, meeting dozens of people whose names quickly slip out of her mind no matter how hard she tries to keep them there, and it’s impossible not to get excited to see all of these great athletes gathered together.

When she was a kid sitting in a foster home with David, the two of them wondering if they’d ever have a forever home, they would watch reruns of the Olympics on the TV, just waiting for the live ones to come around. It was an escape to get to watch people only a few years older than them doing these great things, and even after Ruth adopted them and paid for them to play sports, they never could have imagined being here.

Emma, sitting on a park bench outside with prestigious gymnasts walking in front of her, still can’t imagine it, and she’s literally here.

“Am I allowed to sit here or is that considered fraternizing with the enemy?”

Emma glances up and sees Killian Jones already sliding onto the bench in front of her. He’s darker than the last time she saw him in person, his hair longer, teeth possibly whiter, and he definitely hasn’t shaved in a few too many days. But the cocky, almost a little too arrogant, smile is the same, and even if she said no, he would still sit across from her. She knows him well enough to know that now.

“As far as I’m aware, you’re not playing mixed doubles, so I don’t think you count as an enemy.”

“Ah, but, love, Americans and Brits have been enemies since the beginning. That doesn’t change here.”

“Everyone else gets along. You’re just a competitive ass.”

“Indeed I am.” He wiggles his brows and leans forward, smirk stretched across his lips. “So, I was handed a bag full of Olympic-themed condoms when I checked in. Would you like to go try them out?”

“Shut up,” Emma laughs, kicking his leg. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Too many things to count.” He leans back and crosses his arms over his chest, muscles ever-so-slightly bulging underneath his Team Great Britain t-shirt. She’s wearing a similar one with USA emblazoned in the biggest font she’s ever seen. Not a lot of subtly going on at the moment. “Where’s Ruby? David? Any of the other Americans? Shouldn’t you all be eating or practicing or doing something besides sitting on a bench by the water?”

“Shouldn’t you?”

“Touché, Swan. Touché. Will and I were on the way to eat, but I saw you and got distracted. I don’t have practice until later. Rob is forcing me to give myself a break so I don’t exhaust myself after Toronto.”

“Well, you do have old bones.”

“Oi, I am thirty-two and at the top of my game. How many people can say that?”

“Anyone who is not an athlete.”

Killian shrugs and tilts his head to the side, rolling his shoulders. He’s right, though. Killian is playing better than he ever has. He’s always been good ever since he was touted to be Great Britain’s next big thing. She watched for years as the British media slagged him off for not having won Wimbledon despite having won the other majors two times around, but six years ago, he won after a five-hour, grueling match and fell onto the ground. The image was everywhere, and now, every time she’s in London or Wimbledon, that image lines the walls. It’s how she felt when she won the US Open. All of the major are special, but winning your home one, if you’re lucky enough to have one, is something else. And now Killian is world number one once more, has won two majors in a row with several premiere events in between, and with his form, she can’t imagine him losing.

But that’s why you lace up the sneakers. You never know what’s going to happen.

She’s been around the game long enough to know that.

Killian too.

Their paths have crossed for years, mostly because they have the same sponsors and do a lot of promotional events together, but the more they both started winning, the more they’d see each other at tournaments and dinners and everything in between. It’s a busy life, and while there’s time to make friends outside of tennis, sometimes it’s easier to find people in the industry.

She’s not entirely sure she would call Killian Jones a friend.

“Have you eaten, love?” he asks.

“Not yet.” On cue, her stomach growls, and he smirks, not that he really stopped.

“Why don’t you come with me? You can sit with us before we take the bus to the courts for training.”

“What happened to fraternizing with the enemy?”

He leans forward and winks. “For you, I’ll make an exception.”

Emma laughs but nods and stands with Killian as they walk to the main dining hall. It’s packed, the room echoing with conversation and laughter, and Emma and Killian are stopped several times to take pictures and sign autographs, something she will never get used to, before they sit down with Will, Rob, and several other plays from all around the world. For a minute, it’s like they’re in their usual bubble that they live in for the rest of the year with only tennis players around, but then Emma sees Usain Bolt walk by and she knows they’re not.

This is weird.

This is wonderful.

This is almost everything.

-/-

The Opening Ceremonies are long and sometimes boring, and she hates the outfit she has to wear, but she doesn’t know if she’ll get to do this again in four years so she savors it.

She savors it all, walking side by side with Ruby, Ashley, and Anna, and she takes all of it in before her mind switches to work-mode as she runs through her opponent for her first match. The nerves have been pushed down in favor of the experience, but they’re back and in full-force.

She cannot lose in the first round.

-/-

She doesn’t. -/-

She doesn’t lose her next few matches either.

-/-

Emma’s made it to the quarterfinals in both singles and doubles with Ruby after several days of long matches and struggling to see the ball – whoever thought making a fully green court with green side walls for tennis has obviously never played tennis, and she never wants to play on center court again – and she knows she’s one win away from guaranteeing that she plays in a medal-winning match.

It’s a relief and pressure all at once, something she’ll never grow used to, and as the sun sets and the village begins to get loud, Emma sits on her balcony watching the fountains in the lake light up. Ruby is off with Mulan somewhere Emma would rather not know about and will probably not be back to their room until at least tomorrow morning if the look on Ruby’s face was any indication, so Emma thinks she might get a little time to sit down and breathe for a moment, watching different events on TV. She could go watch them, but she doesn’t think her legs will carry her there.

Until her phone buzzes with a text that she quickly answers, and not three minutes later, there’s a knock at her door.

Emma quickly opens it, pulling him inside, and Killian kicks the door closed behind him as he cups her cheeks and kisses her, long and slow but with enough heat simmering below the surface that Emma knows there could be a promise of more later.

She’s seen him nearly every day for the past week, but she’s missed him.

She’s missed this.

His mouth moves expertly over hers in a rhythm that’s been practiced to perfection, and she feels dizzy with his kiss and holds onto his hair to keep her standing up. The Brazilian summer air wafts through the room, coating it in a thick heat, but Emma doesn’t pay any attention to that as heat curls between her thighs, warming her more than the air ever could. Her legs ache from the match, her arms feel heavy, but Killian makes her forget those things as he lays her down on the bed and kisses every inch of her body, spending time with his dark head of hair buried beneath her thighs until she can no longer speak.

Until she can scarcely breathe as well.

She manages to laugh, though, when he pulls out one of the condoms that has the Olympics logo on it, and she and Killian makes jokes about it as he slides into her, a thick sheath of heat that she never gets used to. It’s slow at first, a gentle rocking that keeps her teetering on the edge, but their bodies are tired and worn, and soon, it’s a race to the finish line.

Emma comes in first, not that it matters.

(But it does feel good to beat him.)

(They’re both competitive asses.)

(Even when they shouldn’t be.)

After, they’re both slick with sweat that doesn’t go away as their bodies press together on the small twin bed. Emma almost wishes she had rented a house outside the village like David and some of the other coaches did, but she doesn’t want to give up the experience. And it’s fine, especially as Killian shifts behind her and lets her settle into him, her hips pressing back into his as his arm wraps around to rest on her stomach, fingers occasionally searching out for her breast.

Emma is exhausted, but this is the best she’s felt in weeks.

(She definitely couldn’t walk to any of the events now, and she did want to see Phelps swim.)

“You played bloody fantastic in your doubles match today.”

“Not my singles?”

“I played at the same time as you. I didn’t get a chance to watch.”

Emma hums and leans further back into him. She’s glad Killian did most of the work because just thinking about how much she’s got to move again tomorrow is making her sore. “I played well there too. Straight sets.”

“Atta girl.” His lips press into her neck, stubble scratching across the skin. “I’ve been thinking…”

“Oh, that’s always dangerous.”

Killian laughs but nudges his knee into her, which really only settles his cock between her ass, but she’s too tired to think of doing anything else. “I’ve been thinking,” he continues, “that I’m going to withdraw from Cincinnati and fly home instead.”

“To London?”

“To Palm Beach. I think it might be nice to have a calm week between tournaments to spend time with my girlfriend.”

“Oh really? You’ll have to tell her your plan. I’m sure she’d like that.”

Killian tickles her stomach, making her squirm, before he lightly pinches her side. “Mhm. I thought we might also like to spend time with our daughter since FaceTime isn’t cutting it for me anymore. I swear she’s grown three feet since I last saw her.”

“Four, I think. She’s basically a full-grown adult now with all that walking and talking she’s doing.”

“Has she said any new words I’m not aware of?”

“Nope. She still can only say the three.”

“Good. I’m glad I didn’t miss anything else.” Killian kisses the side of Emma’s neck again, and she twists around, wrapping her arms around him and pressing their noses together as she stares into blue, blue eyes that aren’t diminished by the darkened room. “I think we should bring her to New York with us. Hopefully at least one of us will be there for three weeks, and that’s just too long to go without her.”

“We’re staying in a hotel in New York. In two separate suites, I might add.”

“But we don’t have to.”

“Killian…”

His hand brushes down her side, warmth permeating from the rough fingertips, before it rests on her hip, thumb moving in soothing circles. “I’ve already called and seen if they could give me the Penthouse. It’s an entire floor with private entrances and a private elevator. Our teams can stay with us or they can stay in the original suites we were designated. I know you bring her with you when you can and that I sneak in visits, but I want to be able to stay with my daughter.”

This isn’t the first time they’ve had this conversation, and if she doesn’t say yes to it, it won’t be the last.

Things between she and Killian are complicated. They’re relationship isn’t, not anymore. At first, she couldn’t stand him, thought he was genuinely this cocky asshole from the way he talked in matches and in off-court interviews, like he was God’s gift to the sport or something. Then they ended up both winning in Australia four years ago, and while doing press together, she saw a different, kinder side to him that she hadn’t previously seen when they worked together in Nike promotions.

Fast forward through a lot of early morning calls, late night rendezvous in their hotel rooms, and a heck of a lot of texts and FaceTime sessions, and somewhere along the way, the impenetrable Emma Swan fell in love with the impossible Killian Jones.

They kept it secret, the both of them knowing how vicious the media is to athletes that date each other, especially since Killian was going through a wrist injury that was somehow his fault according to the pundits and that he was getting hounded pretty hard at the time. They didn’t know if it was going to work, neither of them having stellar relationship records, but they figured eventually they would be okay with the world knowing.

Then came the positive pregnancy test, and Emma’s entire world shifted.

She was at the top of her game, at the top of her world, and as hard as it is for her to admit now, she didn’t want Olivia. She wanted to keep living her life the way it was. That was a possibility but not one she was willing to take, so she stopped playing but kept training as she and Killian figured out how they were going to do this.

They’re never home, rarely together, and they were both way out of their leagues. It would have been easier to tell the world they were together, that Killian was the father, but Olivia’s protection is worth more than their ease.

Now, though, looking at the crease between Killian’s brow and the sadness pooled in his eyes, she wonders if they’re doing the right thing.

“I know. I’m sorry. I – ” Emma’s lips quiver, and she nearly cries. She’s exhausted beyond belief and doesn’t know what to do, so she buries her face in Killian’s neck and wraps her arms around him. “Can we talk about this on the plane ride home?”

Emma says home as if they’re going to the same place after this. They’re not. But maybe she should listen to Killian and take the break she’s been craving.

“Aye, love, if that’s what you want.”

She nods and feels his lips ghost over the crown of her hair. “I want to lay here with you and not think about tennis or make hard decisions.”

“You want to talk about how bloody uncomfortable this bed is?”

Emma laughs. “It really makes you miss those awful ones in Paris.”

“You had to ask for a new one.”

“It was so worth it.”

-/-

They FaceTime Olivia in the morning. Mary Margaret has her in a matching outfit to Emma’s uniform, and Killian scoffs that she’s representing America instead of Great Britain.

Emma thinks it’s the best thing in the world, and it reminds her who she’s playing for.

It’s not for her country, not for herself. It’s for her daughter.

Their daughter.

-/-

The next two days drag by and yet she has a difficult time keeping up with them. Her practices are long, recovery longer as her shoulders are massaged and legs are iced, and Ruby has to drag her out onto the court for doubles when all she wants to do is sleep. She’s not used to playing this many matches in such a short period of time, and while having Ruby on court with her helps lessen how much she runs, her legs are still aching.

She’s almost to the finish line. She can make it.

“Those legs are too pretty for you to be dragging them like that,” Ruby jokes as they sit down during a changeover in the third set of their quarterfinal match. Emma reaches for her energy drink and takes a sip before biting into a banana while Ruby shakes her legs.

“I can’t make them move.”

“Yes, you can,” Ruby insists. “You already won your singles today, and we’re four games away from winning this match. I will kick your ass if we don’t win this.”

“Can you kick my ass if it’s already kicked?”

“I can indeed.” Ruby pats Emma’s knees and smiles. “Come on, hot mama. We’ve got this.”

And it’s tough, but they do.

Emma and Ruby go through recovery, and when Emma checks her watch, she sees that Killian’s match is just about to start.

“Do you want to get a bus across the grounds and go watch swimming?” Ruby asks her as David massages her calf. It’s not his job, so he obviously can’t stop complaining about doing it.

“I think I want to watch Killian’s match. Can we get seats in the stadium? Is his box empty?”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” David asks her as her muscle spasms.

“If we all go, it won’t be suspicious. He’s playing Sam, so they might think we’re supporting the Americans.”

“Aren’t we?”

Her eyes roll. “Not in this situation. Come on. Text Rob and see if we can get into Killian’s box.”

David levels her with a stare, and she knows he’s going to say no, that it’s a bad idea. But then he releases her leg and pulls his phone out of his pocket.

They end up going still dressed in their match clothes, and Emma puts on a sweatshirt, a cap, and sunglasses to hide herself as much as possible. She knows it won’t work considering she’s literally wearing the outfit she has worn all week, but she can at least try. It’s been years since she’s gotten to watch one of Killian’s matches from somewhere other than the locker room or her hotel room, and she’s missed the magic of watching him play. He’s fluid with his motions, even if they are slower than they used to be, and his groundstrokes are powerful from the baseline. She knows from the moment that she sits down that he’s winning this match. She can tell by the way he’s carrying himself and the determination in his eyes. She grabs her phone and snaps a picture just as he looks her way, brow raised in question but a smile on his lips.

-/-

Killian wins his match, and she finds him in the tunnel afterward, his team creating a wall around them, and wraps her arms around him, not caring that they are both disgustingly sweaty or around other people.

“I love you,” she whispers.

“And I you.” The corner of his lips brush against her temple. “You’re amazing, Emma. Bloody amazing.”

“You too, my love.”

-/-

Emma wins the semifinals of both of her matches.

Killian wins his.

They’re both playing in gold medal matches – Emma definitely brags about how she’s playing two while Killian is only playing one – and she wants to vomit.

Holy shit.

-/-

“Say hi to your mommy,” Mary Margaret tells Olivia as Olivia keeps smacking her hand on the screen. “Your mom and dad are there trying to talk to you, Livvie.”

Emma leans her head onto Killian’s shoulder as they both stare into the screen waiting for Olivia to move her hand. She does with some help from Mary Margaret, and then bright green eyes show up. She has Emma’s eyes and dirty blonde hair that’s thick and wavy, but everything else about her screams Killian, especially her smile. Emma has missed that smile.

“Hello, little love.” Killian waves and tries to get her attention, but she couldn’t care less. “Don’t you want to talk to us?”

She makes a noise that isn’t a word, and Mary Margaret sighs. “I’m sorry. She’s been asking about you two, but now that you’re there, she doesn’t care. I tried to tell her what a big deal the two of you were, but she doesn’t care.”

“I’ll have to tell her how incredible her mother is later. She’s going to be the first women to win two singles golds in a row as well as the first mum to do it. And she’s going to have two more medals than me. Showing me up in every category.”

“That’s assuming you win, Jones. I could have three more gold medals than you.”

“I do love a challenge.”

Olivia starts giggling, Emma’s favorite noise on the planet, and she tries to memorize it to keep with her always. She knows Killian does too.

-/-

Emma’s gold medal matches are the day before Killian’s, and she’s jealous he gets a day off to rest. He tells her he’s going to spend the entire time training, sneaking in and out of other events, and watching her matches. She rolls her eyes at his texts because she’s sure he won’t have time to do all of that.

And yet he does.

She sees him in the stands during her doubles match. Ruby points him out when they’re in the middle of discussing serving spots, and Emma laughs at her calling him “lover boy” in a horrible British accent. She always calls him a ridiculous name, and of the few people who know of Emma’s private life, she’s glad Ruby is one of them.

Even if she’s still laughing and double faults on an important point.

It doesn’t matter, though, because within an hour and fifteen minutes, their shortest match of the tournament, she’s on the court’s floor with Ruby sobbing because they won a fucking gold medal.

She gets so little time to savor it, however, because the medal ceremony happens so quickly that she can barely take It all in. She also has press to do, and David has to practically force her into the media room where she and Ruby are hounded with more questions than congratulation as they clutch onto their medals. Ruby handles it like the pro she is while Emma’s nerves start to get the best of her as more people start talking about what she has on the line.

To be the first man or woman to win two gold singles medals in consecutive Olympics.

To win another gold medal for her country.

To be the first mother since Clijsters to win a major tournament.

To win her first big tournament since her comeback.

To have the possibility to win another gold medal in Tokyo in four years if she’s still playing.

It’s a lot, and she knows it. She’s been thinking about all of it every day this week, and her track record of choking in finals lately is pushing at the forefront of her mind.

She doesn’t know if she can do it.

And yet she does.

She laces up her sneakers, pulls her hair back, and takes a deep breath as she blocks everything out of her mind except for her game plan. She knows how the game is played. She’s been playing since she was twelve years old, and even though that’s a late start compared to most people, it’s gotten her here.

Emma walks out of the tunnel as her name is announced over the speakers, and even though all she can hear is the cheer of the crowd, she lets her mind go back to Olivia’s laugh, Killian’s smile, David’s pep talk, Ruby’s ridiculous texts. She thinks of all the things that push her when she wants to stop, and she reminds herself that no matter what happens, she’s done her best.

She could have given up the moment the stick said “pregnant.” She could have packed it all in, but she didn’t. She’s here, and she’s better than any excuse she could come up with not to be.

People have tried to tell her who she is her entire life, but she’s pushed back and said, “no, this is who I am.” Emma still has to do that now, no matter how many times she has proven herself.

The ice bath in Montreal where she wanted to quit seems years away when it was only eight days.

-/-

Emma looks to Ruby then David then Killian as she takes a deep breath on match point. Killian smiles and gives her a subtle nod, and then she raises the ball in the air, ready to toss it.

-/-

Game. Set. Gold freaking medal.

-/-

Afterward, she falls to the ground, her knees aching as they hit the asphalt, and her body can’t stop shaking with her sobs. She doesn’t know what she feels or how she feels or even where she is, and she only gets up from the ground when she hears her family calling for her. She slowly rises from the ground, runs across the court to congratulate her opponent on playing a good match, and then she’s running to the stands and climbing up with David’s help. She embraces him first. She wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him. he’s been her rock for her entire life, and he keeps her steady. Then it’s her physio and her agent and Ruby. Then, over to the side, is Killian, and their conversation from a few nights ago comes back to her.

She loves him. She’s proud to be with him. They shouldn’t have to hide their family anymore.

They haven’t exactly been doing a good job of it this week anyway.

So Emma very literally pounces on him, her legs wrapping around his waist, before she remembers that he has a match tomorrow. She can’t miss his back up. He’d never let it go if she did. Her feet fall to the ground, but her arms stay wrapped around Killian’s neck as he whispers words of encouragement and congratulations that she’s always going to keep close to her heart, right next to the necklace with the initials O-S-J on them.

Two people thousands of miles apart were brought together by chances, a whole myriad of them. If Ruth hadn’t adopted Emma and David, they never would have picked up a racket. If Emma had never picked up a racket, she wouldn’t have found her purpose in this world. She wouldn’t have a job or a daughter or a man who loves her in spite of how hard she is to love. There was so much that could have derailed her, both good and bad, and while she could say none of it matters, in some way, it all does.

Because it led her here.

And she doesn’t want to be anywhere else even if she would give anything to be able to hug Olivia right now.

“You did so good, Swan,” Killian whispers, his voice the only one she hears.

“I know.”

He pulls back, and there are tears in his eyes that mirror her own. “So, I guess I have to win tomorrow so your bragging rights don’t get too big.”

“Oh, Jones, you are never catching up with me now,” she teases, all of the exhaustion melting away. “I’m miles ahead of you, but you better win. Olivia doesn’t need to be embarrassed by her dad.”

“Pretty sure that’s my job.”

“Right now, your only job is to help me back down onto the court and then go win yourself a gold medal.”

“Don’t tell the presses you’re rooting for a Brit.”

Emma shrugs as Killian thumbs away tears underneath her eyes. “I don’t care anymore, and I’m definitely going to be sitting in your box tomorrow, cheering louder than anyone else.”

-/-

When Killian wins the next night after a torturous four hours, his fall is almost identical to Emma’s. Though, when he climbs into the stands to get to the box, he immediately goes for Emma, cupping her cheeks and kissing her for the entire world to see.

“I guess I’ll have to figure out a way to embarrass our daughter in another way.”

“I think her parents making out on international TV might do just that.”

-/-

Two days after they get home – they spent the entire first day sleeping and holding Olivia – Emma puts on her three gold medals, Killian puts on his one, and they hold Olivia in between them, her toothy smile brighter than the gold as the photo is taken.

Olivia Swan-Jones has a pretty cool mom and a dad who has some catching up to do in the gold medal department.

It’s Emma’s most liked picture on Instagram, not that she cares about any of those things, and it’s the biggest news story for three days straight despite the literal Olympics still happening.

All Emma cares about, though, is that she has a week off – she opted out of Cincinnati after all, despite David’s protests – she can spend with her family before she and Killian are off to New York where the pressure will be the highest it’s ever been and the media will most likely be losing their shit over Emma and Killian’s announcements.

Olivia will be with her, Killian too, and in the end, that’s all that matters.

Oh, that, and the fact that Emma Swan is officially back, and it feels damn good.

-/-

Thanks for reading, my friends! Can’t wait for those 2021 Olympics 🤞and learning about sports I’ve still somehow never heard of. And if you want to talk to me about tennis, I’m fully here to talk about Rafael Nadal’s biceps and how his game is underrated despite being one of the most dominant athletes of all time 💚😂

#walking the baseline #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #cs olympics #captain swan fanfic #captain swan ff #captain swan fic #captain swan #csow

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ghstandpucks · 4 years ago

Text

Cutting Edge ~ Nathan MacKinnon Ch. 4

Hey everyone! I hope you are all doing well and having a nice Friday! Thank you so much for all your kind, supportive words! I’m so glad you are liking this series! Disclaimer for this chapter: I’m sorry if you like Ashley Wagner as a figure skater. To be honest she bothers me which is why I picked her for a little conflict that may or may not happen during the season lol

Anyways, enjoy and let me know what you think! Also, let me know if you would like to be tagged in the upcoming chapters! Thanks!

Prologue Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3

“Nope. Try again,” you said as Andre tripped over his feet and missed the net. It was Monday morning at practice and you had just shown your group the three-turn move that Nate suggested you teach them. Andre groaned and looked over at you.

“What is the point of this?” he asked.

“The point is to be more fluid. You guys do this already, you just need to follow through with it and not be choppy,” you responded.

“Maybe we are choppy because we have to keep the puck with us,” Andre grumbled and tried again, still not entirely succeeding. To be fair, not many had been successful that morning.

“You guys just need to keep your momentum,” you tried to explain. They looked at you like you were crazy. You quickly skated over to the side and grabbed a stick, becoming exasperated that they seemed not to believe you that it would work. Taking one of the pucks, you quickly did the move and shot the puck straight into the net. You turned back to your group and laughed at their dumbstruck faces. Honestly, you were even shocked that you made, but you couldn’t show them that. “So that’s how you do it. Any questions?” They all shook their heads no. “Okay then, line up,” you said, deciding to keep the stick with you. Though it still seemed foreign to you, you felt more comfortable with it. As the group you had started to get it, you smiled and looked down the ice to find Nate already looking at you. He was at center ice in another group, and when you grabbed the hockey stick a few of the players and coaches stopped to see what you were doing. He didn’t bother to look away when you met his gaze, but instead nodded at you with an impressed face. You shrugged and laughed, turning your attention back to your group.

The groups rotated about 30 minutes later, and Nate skated right up to your side. “Look who’s becoming a hockey player,” he teased you quietly. You giggled and elbowed him.

“I told you it wasn’t that hard,” you said, adding “and you owe me two laps.” Nate looked at you unimpressed.

“Are you serious?” he asked.

“Can’t have people thinking I’m a pushover, right?” you laughed. Nate rolled his eyes, but smiled at you as he took off.

~ ~ ~

The following day you stayed after practice, seeing as the team had Wednesday off. You were in the middle of your billman spin when you caught the outline of a blurred figure every rotation you made. You finished the spin, letting go of your right leg and checking out. Glancing toward the side, you found Nate standing there. He smiled as you skated over to him, shifting his weight from one foot to another slightly. That’s when you realized he had his skates on. “Mind if I join you?” Nate asked. You shook your head and smiled up at him.

“You aren’t mad at me for making you skate laps?” you joked. He chuckled as he stepped out onto the ice.

“Completely. Those two laps were the worst thing I had to do yesterday,” he answered with a wink. You laughed and skated around the perimeter of the rink with him. The two of you spent about two more hours on the ice, talking and doing different things, but always ending up back next to each other. You sat next to Nate on a bench off the ice to take your skates off while continuing your conversation. “So how did you get into skating? In Canada hockey is huge. I can’t imagine it’s the same in Southern California,” Nate asked after he had told you how he started playing hockey, and you smiled.

“So I was actually a dancer when I was younger. My parents put me in ballet when I was about 2 in a half because I was that hyper child that needed something to do,” Nate chuckled at that. “Anyways, I had an older cousin who was taking skating lessons and had her like 10th birthday party at the rink. I was 4 and one of my other older cousins offered to skate with me. And I fell in love the second I stepped onto the ice. I asked my parents after the party if I could start skating and they signed me up for classes. And you should know as of last week with Z that I am a competitive, stubborn little shit of a person so I jumped at the idea of having a coach and competing. And I never looked back. The rink is my happy place, it’s where I feel most myself, and everything that has come along with it is just a perk,” You smiled, drying off your blades and putting your soakers on them.

“Oh yes, an Olympic gold medal is just a perk,” Nate dead panned, but you could see he had a smirk on his face.

“I mean I worked hard for it. But it never felt like work because I love to skate,” you replied simply. Nate smiled softly at you, and you thought you would never get used to the way it made your stomach flutter.

“That is beautiful Coach,” he teased you, and you knocked your shoulder into his arm. He laughed as you barely even moved him, more just bounced off of him. “I’m being serious Y/N. Obviously you are an amazing skater, and we are lucky to have you.” Nate said sincerely. You looked away as you started to blush.

“Well you aren’t so bad yourself mister,” you tried to joke back to cover up how much his words were actually affecting you. Nate chuckled and shook his head.

“I just try my best. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough, but I try,” he admitted.

“But that’s all you can do, try. And you have a whole team behind you to support you,” you said, feeling that he was just like you; extremely tough on himself. “Plus, from what I’ve seen you’re a pretty good skater,” you smiled as he met your eyes after putting his skates away.

“Only pretty good?” he teased, and you laughed.

“Well there’s always room for improvement,” you said, teasing him back. Nate let out a chuckle and followed you out of the rink, walking with you over to your jeep.

“So, we have tomorrow off…” Nate started, rubbing the back of his neck. You smiled and nodded, encouraging him to continue. Nate wanted to just ask you out, but he wasn’t positive where you stood. You were nice to him, but you were nice to everyone. He decided to go with what he had already offered before to be safe. “Do you still need to get a bookshelf?” As he asked, you couldn’t help as your smile became brighter at the thought of hanging out with him away from the rink again.

“I do actually. I was planning on doing that tomorrow,” you hoped you weren’t blushing too much, but Nate could see it and it only gave him more confidence.

“I can come over around noon. We could get some lunch then get your book case,” he suggested, trying to gauge your reaction. You smiled shyly, knowing your blush had to be evident at this point. Nate thought it looked adorable. Here you were, this Olympic gold medalist becoming shy when he was asking you to hang out.

“That would be great, as long as you don’t mind helping me,” you said. Nate beamed at you.

“Not at all.” You smiled back at him and said your goodbyes with the promise of seeing each other tomorrow. You drove home, nervous and excited for being able to hang out with him more one on one.

The next morning you woke up and busied yourself trying to clean up a bit. Not that you were messy, but you needed to move some boxes out of the way to make space for your book shelf. Getting dressed in some simple jeans and a black tank with a long, velvet deep yellow cardigan over it, you were just putting on your converse when Nate showed up at your door. You insisted on driving, sure that you would buy more than just a bookshelf and didn’t want to cram it all into his car. Nate directed you to a cute sandwich shop downtown for lunch, and the two of you talked the whole time about everything and anything. It felt so natural to be around him; the two of got along very well. Both of you being extremely competitive athletes, you also understood each other on a different level. Getting through lunch relatively unnoticed, Nate was amused when you were the one approached for a picture and not him. He couldn’t help but smile at the way you talked to the young girl and encouraged her to keep working on a jump she said she was having a problem with. After lunch, you and Nate went to Target and picked out a simple bookshelf. You also grabbed a few more things you could not leave the store without and Nate pushed the cart along, teasing you when you couldn’t pass up buying a few new books as well. Traveling from competition to competition always provided reading time, so you figured road trips with the team would provide the same.

Once back at your apartment Nate took over constructing the book shelf while you unloaded your boxes for it. The day carried on with playful banter and you could feel your crush growing even stronger. Nate was feeling the same. It was nice for him to be around someone who didn’t seem to care that he was a professional hockey player. He felt that he could really be himself around you. Between the laughing, lunch, shopping, and setting up, it was 7pm before you even knew it. “Do you want some pizza?” you asked him as you placed a candle on one of the shelves.

“Don’t tell my coaches,” he winked and you laughed.

“Never,” you said, asking him what a good pizza place to order from would be. “I’ll order a veggie one. That will make it a healthy meal.” Nate laughed and offered to pay, but you insisted being that he spent his whole day helping you, plus bought lunch. When the pizza arrived, you made your plates and sat at the table. “Do you ever miss being home with your family?” you asked after he told you all about them.

“I do yeah. I love them and being able to spend time with them. But I’ve made Denver my home also and this team is like family. I’m happy being here with them,” Nate answered sincerely.

“I think it’s really great you guys all have each other. I’ve never been much of a team player so I’ve never experienced that kind of bond,” you admitted.

“You have to have friends through skating though, right?” he asked.

“Yes and no,” you shrugged. Nate gave you a questioning look. “Girls are mean.” Nate broke out laughing. You laughed too and continued. “Once you get to a certain level, like you support one another but if someone your competing against falls you don’t feel bad. And I know that sounds horrible, but when there are only usually 3 spots on the Olympic team every four years, and the competitive span of a female figure skater is only like six years at senior level depending on how fast you learn, it’s a super competitive atmosphere. You tend to become better friends with people you won’t compete against. So like for me, my best friend is Jeremy Abbott. He’s kind of like an older brother to me. And I’m close to a few ice dancers. But any female single skater friend either tends to have gone through the ranks before you, or you start mentoring someone younger as they hop onto the circuit and you phase out. I think I’m better friends with girls I have competed against now that none of us are competing anymore. That’s just kind of how it goes,” you tried your best not to make it sound like you were a horrible person. Nate nodded thoughtfully, then grinned at you.

“Does this mean you have an arch enemy that we all have to look out for?” You couldn’t help but laugh at his question.

“Unfortunately, kind of. Playing the Stars should be interesting this year.”

“Playing the Stars is interesting every year,” Nate muttered. “Who is it?” he asked curiously.

“Don’t say anything ok. I have a reputation to uphold. I can’t be talking bad about another skater in this program,” you pleaded. “Plus the press already thinks we don’t like each other. I don’t need to be the one to add fire to that flame.”

“Yeah I’d rather not talk to the press so your secret is safe with me Y/N,” Nate said, leaning in closer as to convey confidence.

“Her name is Ashley Wagner. She was annoyed that in my first competition I bet her and knocked her off the podium completely. And every competition since I had beat her,” you explained and Nate nodded along. “Also, if you meet her, don’t let her fool you. She seems nice, but she’s not that great. She purposefully tripped me during warm ups once. That’s when all the rumors started flying around.” Nate looked at you surprised.

“You didn’t do anything back to her?”

“No,” you laughed lightly. “That’s not what you do in my sport. I kept smiling and brushed it off best I could.”

“Alright. So we’ll have to protect you around her. You’re too nice,” Nate grinned at you. You smiled back and cleared both of your plates as you had finished eating.

“Shut up. She’s a coach too. It should be fine…I hope.” Nate shrugged at your reply, taking a seat on the coach and making himself comfortable.

“I don’t know. Hockey might just bring out the worst in both of you.”

“Gee, thanks Nate. Glad to know you’d have my back if it came to blows,” you plopped down next to him. Not too close, but close enough the you could knock your knee into his. Curling your feet up on the couch, you both smiled lazily at each other.

“Don’t worry Coach, I’ll be your back up. Tyson will probably be your hype-man,” Nate teased, reaching to shove your shoulder slightly. When his hand came down though, it rested slightly touching yours, and neither of you moved.

“Sounds about right,” you tried to laugh your nerves off. Nate decided to take a leap, and placed his hand over yours. He smiled when he felt you intertwine your fingers with his. The both of you sat in comfortable silence for a minute. Nate was about to speak when your phone started to ring, ruining the moment.

“I’m sorry,” you said, looking at your phone and seeing that it was Jeremy calling. You denied the call, but your screen just lit up again. “Speak of the devil. I can call him back later. I’m sure it’s not important.”

“It’s fine. It’s getting late, and we have practice tomorrow so I should probably go,” Nate said, letting go of your hand and standing up. You were going to kill Jeremy.

“Well thank you for coming over and helping me,” you said as you walked Nate over to the door.

“Anytime,” Nate responded, stopping just outside and turning back to you. “We should do it again sometime.”

“Put together a book shelf?” you raised your eyebrow, hoping you weren’t over analyzing the moment the two of you just had. Nate chuckled and reached out for your hand again.

“No. Lunch, dinner, this,” he squeezed your hand for emphasis. You blushed and nodded. “A book shelf if you really need another one,” Nate added, making you giggle.

“That would be nice,” you responded. Nate grinned at you, and with one more squeeze of your hand he dropped it.

“See you tomorrow Y/N,” he said, backing away from you.

“Get home safely Nate,” you said, smiling at him till he turned around and walked down the hallway. You shut the door and locked up, walking back to the couch and the now 6 missed calls from your best friend. You called him back with a sigh. You didn’t give Jeremy a second to talk when he answered. “You better be dying to have called me this many times.”

“Calm down, I just wanted to talk to you. Why weren’t you answering?” he laughed.

“Nate was over. I think we were having a moment and you ruined it,” you complained.

“Shit…sorry!” Jeremy responded. There was a pause, then he spoke again with excitement. “Now tell me all about it.” You laughed and launched into the story about your day, all the meanwhile looking forward for the season to begin, and to be able to see where things were headed with Nate.

tags: @bqstqnbruin @avsfans95 @andreiaafaria

#nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl x reader #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #nathan mackinnon imagine #nathan mackinnon x reader #nate mackinnon imagine #nate mackinnon x reader #Cutting Edge

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