#what would I even say? hey doc my legs hate me- what do you think this is? It's been constant for years I just didn't think to tell you
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Soooo
I'm starting to think waking up every morning with my legs sore and my knee and ankle in pain isn't normal.
#the question is whether it's because I don't use them enough or because of some other issue#you'd think after dealing with this as far back as I can remember that I'd have said something but like... it just became my normal i guess#well maybe not /as far back as I can remember/ but deffinitelt for the past couple years#back in my highschool days at the very least which is still like- 2-3 years minimum? yeaahhhhh#it shouldn't hurt to have my cat in my lap just sitting on my knees#or my ankle to literally just exist and be in pain comparable to pressing a bruise#casual conversation#guess I should probably tell a doctor? I have too many things I need to talk to a doc for =_=''#what would I even say? hey doc my legs hate me- what do you think this is? It's been constant for years I just didn't think to tell you#guess my next doctors visit is gonna be addressing all the stuff I've been dealing with my whole life and never thought to mention before#whenever that ends up being lol
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Post- Top Gun Maverick Fic- Meeting Back Up
this fic was labelled in my docs as 'dagger shenanigans' so do with that whatever???
enjoy :D
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“You’re not gonna post that.”
“I am–I’m gonna post it, Roo,”
“You’re posting it?”
Swish.
Nat clicked the send button, and she looked back up at Rooster across from her, who caught her grin with a flat stare, and she folded over in giggles at his impossibly solemn expression like your average toddler would.
“Wow.” He faked a gusty sigh, lips pursing. “Typical Phoenix.”
“Sorry.” She managed before laughing again, tucking a stray hair back behind her ears, taking a swig from the beer in her other hand.
“I want to say I hate you, but you wouldn’t take that shit seriously.” He replied mid-smirk, possibly doing the best face-palm she’d ever seen a mid-30s manwhore with ridiculously toned muscles in a vibrant Hawaiian-style overshirt do.
Not that there were many others that fit that description.
“I like how we can just haul ass over here after a long day thanks to Penny and her magic friend bonus.” Natasha admitted, setting her phone face-down on the fuzzy green of the old pool table.
“Same.” Rooster answered, chuckling. “Hey, you up for a round of darts, Nat? Winner pays for everything.” He leaned into the polished wood of the seat behind him.
“Sure thing. Hope you like losing.” She shot back, picking up two empty beer bottles in each hand and placing them on the front bar counter, where Penny looked up from her notebook, smiled, and hooked out a small container with her feet from under the desk.
“Thanks, Penny.” Nat called over her shoulder with a wink as she strolled back to the dart board, giving Rooster a playful slap on the ass as she passed the pool table. “You coming, or have I won already?”
-----------------------------------------------
Bob turned out of the highway cautiously, his hands trembling. Usually it was just him in his car, but he’d agreed to give Halo a ride to The Hard Deck, and he’d ended up falling short of words.
“So, um…” He fumbled as Callie looked up from her phone, her brows knitting together a little, a question forming on her parted mouth.
“How’s it going with, uh–with Phoenix? Are you guys still close?”
Her eyes caught the light as she caught on with a small “ah”, and she broke into a smile as she twisted to put her phone in her pocket.
“We could be closer, it’s just after the mission, she’s been hanging out a lot more with Rooster. My fault really, I’ve been caught up in my own shit I didn’t even stop to think of Nat.”
Bob nodded a little. “I know how you feel. I miss her being up front. When I got shipped up to Nevada to train more on the F-16s, it just wasn’t the same, flying without her. Without everybody.”
“Aviators that blow chunks together, stay together.” Callie rolled her eyes, looking out of the window at the paling sky. “How far away are we again?”
“See that big sign that says “The Hard Deck, 5km” a few blocks down?” He faked an intrigued expression, grinning as he saw her eyes crinkle with her wide smile.
“Right, right.” She laughed.
“I can’t wait to see everyone again…” She mused, resting her head back on the car headrest.
“Yeah…”
“Me too.”
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“Payback, I won’t ask again, get your ass out of my bunk or else!” Hangman snapped, his expression borderline murderous.
“We’re not going to vandalise your bunk, shitbag.” Fanboy dangled his long arms over the small railing, fixing his dark brown stare on the offending blonde. “Cool it.”
“Uh, what he said,” a distracted-sounding Payback answered from his phone, chewing on his lip as he sat cross-legged next to Fanboy on the bunk.
Hangman exhaled through his teeth, muttering something about shaving as he walked away.
Fanboy chuckled to himself, turning his head to face the fourth person in their shared flat as they shut the wooden sliding door behind them.
“Yo, Coyote, are you going to the Hard Deck tonight?” Fanboy inquired, still half hanging out of the top bunk. Coyote looked up at him, and was about to answer, when-
“Holy fuck- Rooster’s got a massive glittery di—“ Payback choked out, jaw on the floor as he practically cried with laughter, Fanboy and Coyote scrambling to see with matching expressions on their faces.
“What the…shit, what do I even say??” Coyote looked on in horror.
“Say bad bitch energy, he’s sure rocking that Easter Bunny With A Giant Sex Toy look,” Fanboy wiped his eyes with a loud sound of joy that wasn’t quite laughter. He turned around and reclined on the bunk, tucking back his curls into a simple green hair elastic.
“Why the Easter Bunny, of all the famous figures?” Coyote almost cried, so much so that Hangman poked his head around the short threshold with shaving foam all over his lower face.
“W’assat?”
Payback turned the screen away, a sly smile on his face. He was definitely up to something.
“Come see, Hangman.” He urged, not ignoring the alarmed look that Coyote shared with the blonde.
Jake hesitated.
“...If that picture involves anyone in particular, I’m going to get myself shipped back to Lemoore and fucking Star Wars Canyon myself.” He threw his hands up and his head retreated back into the small ensuite. “Let me finish shaving first.”
Fanboy glanced up to Payback with a should I film this? look. Payback, eyes narrowed, responded with be nice, even though it’s Hangman.
“You guys have mind reading or something.” Coyote remarked as he put his boots on. “I’m going now,” He called, most likely as well to Hangman, who answered with a mildly concerned yell from the other side of the sliding door.
“Wait, shit, everyone?” Payback did a double take, grinning. Fanboy said less, nabbing his friend’s car keys from under his mattress, scooting past them.
“Well, I guess we’re going to the Hard Deck,” Coyote rolled his eyes, getting out of his seat.
#top gun maverick#top gun fanfiction#top gun fandom#natasha phoenix trace#bradley rooster bradshaw#jake hangman seresin#netflix#my fic#fanfiction#the brainrot is real#everyone is gay
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to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic
<< Beginning || AO3 || Next > Latest >>
Chapter 2: May 2009
“Thanks again for picking me up,” Gerard mumbles, slumping down into the passenger seat. He’s exhausted and strung-out and feels like he’s covered in filth.
“Of course,” Martin says softly. He waits for Gerard to buckle his seatbelt before coaxing the car into life and aiming it at the street. It’s on its last legs, honestly, but Gerard knows better than to point this out, or suggest Martin look into getting a new one. Even a secondhand car is out of his reach. When this bucket of rust goes, he’s going to be wholly dependent on public transit. It’s not the worst thing in the world, but it’s a bit limiting.
“How’s your mum?” he asks, not really thinking about the words before they come out of his mouth.
Martin’s mouth tightens briefly. “Same as always. Doc’s got her on a new medication. It’s…it’s not really doing anything, honestly. They did some more tests last week, we’re still waiting on the results of those.” He pauses, then adds, “Somehow, I don’t think they’re going to come back with anything useful.”
“You sure?”
“Just a hunch.”
Something about the way Martin says that makes Gerard’s stomach twist. There’s a significance to it, almost like he’s not just talking about medical ailments. Something is going on, something probably dangerous, and Gerard hates that Martin is stuck in the middle of it. He wants to…he’s not sure what. Do something. Get Martin out of there, whisk him out of the country, hide him somewhere nothing can touch him. Anything.
He knows better. He tried that once, and it didn’t work out for any of them. In a way it’s what led them to this point. And that’s assuming It would let Martin go, which is a pretty damn big assumption. He might still be able to escape, but they’ve known that was a slim chance for years and it’s becoming less and less likely by the day.
“And Uncle Roger?” he asks, more to distract himself from impossible hopes and desires than anything.
“He’s on a new regimen, too. It seems to be helping. At any rate, he’s not getting any worse.”
Gerard hums and lets his gaze drift out the window, watching the streets go by. For all he considers himself a Londoner, he’s spent a relatively low percentage of his actual life here, and he’s not terribly familiar with the streets. And after eight months at Her Majesty’s pleasure, he’s even less familiar with it than he used to be.
Still…
“Hey, this isn’t—isn’t the shop in the other direction?” he says, confused, as Martin makes a turn.
Martin barely spares him a glance. “I’m not taking you back to the shop. Don’t be ridiculous. You’re staying with me. At least until you’ve got your feet back under you.”
Gerard panics slightly. “I don’t—I mean, I wouldn’t want to impose, I—”
“It was in the papers,” Martin says quietly. “That you’d been acquitted because a key piece of evidence went missing—it was the Book, wasn’t it?” He pronounces it, as they always do, with a capital B.
“I think so. Don’t know what happened to it.” Gerard can guess, though, and he sincerely hopes he’s wrong.
“I went by the shop to pick up some clothes for you, but…well, there’s a crowd out front. Reporters mostly, but I think a few curious people. You know the type. Groupies and ghouls.” Martin’s silent for a moment. “And at least one person was…Touched. I didn’t Look too closely, but…you know.”
Gerard’s stomach turns over. “Shit. So I can’t go home.”
“Not yet, anyway.” Martin sighs heavily. “I can try to sneak in after dark, but I didn’t want to risk it in broad daylight and have someone call the cops on me, or worse, follow me. But, um, I’ve got a couple things for you. They’re not…you know, your usual, but…”
“It’s not prison clothes. I’ll take it. Thank you, Martin.” Gerard sighs as well.
Martin glances at him sideways. “Maybe you should change up your style a bit anyway.”
Gerard huffs at him. “Are you saying there’s something wrong with my style?”
“Yeah, I’m saying it’s garbage,” Martin deadpans. Gerard bites his lips to keep from laughing. “Seriously, though, your picture was in all the papers wearing a t-shirt even I couldn’t tell where the fake bloodstains ended and the real ones began and jeans that would be baggy on me with more holes than the plot of that book you tried writing when you were fourteen—”
“Hey!”
“—and that’s pretty much the same thing you’ve worn for as long as I’ve known you,” Martin continues relentlessly. “Maybe if you wear something a bit different, you won’t be recognized.”
“Like what, skinny jeans and a Grateful Dead t-shirt?”
“Try looking respectable for a change. You know, bottle-green turtleneck, brown corduroy jacket with patches on the elbows, tie your hair back in a queue…”
Gerard stiffens. “There’s a picture of my dad in that exact outfit. It’s the only one I’ve ever seen of him. Have I…shown it to you?”
Martin’s hands tighten on the steering wheel, and his face goes ashen, but he only says, “No. No, I don’t think you have.”
They’re silent for the rest of the drive. As Martin pulls up to the curb in front of his building and the car either turns off or dies, though, he says softly, “Even a nine days’ wonder only lasts nine days.”
Gerard manages a smile. “You’re saying they’ll forget about me eventually.”
“Yeah. And I do actually have your passport—they gave it back to me after your trial to hold for you—so you can get out of the country for a while if you want to.” Martin jerks his head in the direction of his front door. “Meanwhile, I bet you want a shower. There’s loads of hot water, and the towels are clean. Landlady actually had someone in to fix the plumbing, too, so the water pressure’s decent. I’ll make dinner while you’re at it. Neens will be home at some point tonight, so we can make it a double celebration.”
“Thanks.” And Gerard is grateful, but he’s also apprehensive, and he hesitates with his hand on the handle. “What should I be…prepared for? I mean…does she know I’m coming?”
“Sh—oh, God, I forgot, you don’t know.” Martin reaches over and squeezes Gerard’s arm gently. “They’re not here, Gerry. Either of them. They went into a home six months ago. It’s just me.”
Gerard sighs in relief. “Thank God. I know she’s your mum, but I really don’t want to deal with her after…that.”
“Honestly? Me, neither.” Martin opens the door. “C’mon. I’ll even make some hot cocoa. And I knew they wouldn’t have let you have any hair dye while you were in, so I bought a box for you. We can do that tonight or tomorrow, whenever you want.”
Gerard comes around the car and hugs Martin tightly. “You’re the best, Mart.”
The way Martin’s face lights up, even as he hugs him back, is as warming and comforting as it is heartbreaking.
#ollie writes fanfic#to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest)#tma#the magnus archives#martin blackwood#gerard keay#the project that tumblr enabled#implied/referenced emotional abuse#mentions of prison#blood mention#mentions of medical treatment
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Reading is definitely one of easiest and hardest things to do. Easy to get into it but difficult to keep the momentum going on especially when the authors had yet to release the next volume or when they were on hiatus. I lost track of how many times I forgot the plot due to the long waiting time or reading different series, and ended up having to read it again.
Forever summer in the one of the countries of SE Asia~ the location of where I'm from will be too obvious if I were to say out other hints 🤣 though November tend to be the rainy season here.
As much as I love horror, violence and gore (hey, don't judge haha, I've been playing horror/killing games since I was a mid single digit age. RE3 = ❤️), one of my favorite thing to read or write is definitely the more causal time, a day off from cop/agent life, like hanging out in a cafe enjoying a cup of beverage before a phone call asking you to get on with a case etc, or a date night with the other half, a more simple and violence free moment.
I always bring my notebook out whenever possible so I can write down random ideas that popped out or do some writing when I'm bored from waiting on friends that had yet to reach.
....
I should probably get back to updating my stories as well since the aching are gone. My arm and shoulder.. and my formely injured knee has been killing me since returning to badminton after being sideline for a bit. Is this what it feels to be a 90s kid? Bones creaking already.
Saw it somewhere that you have hurt your ankle? Gosh, get better soon! Ain't fun at all when somewhere of your leg is injured. When I injured my knee years ago, I couldn't even bend it for a long while so thank the maker for the invention of lifts since my class is always on the upper floors.
I have been following your page for a while now but never really tbought about chatting through this so please don't mind me being an anon~
Oh and 🐯 would be nice 😆
oh my gosh, so freaking true!! when i was a kid i was *determined* to finish the Little House on the Praries series, but every time i lost momentum and stopped and couldn't finish one of the lengthier ones i'd tell myself i had to start from the beginning all over again lol.
hahah fair!!
honestly, those are the points that we don't get to see on the shows! i think that's why those moments and relationships are so important to fic readers/writers. we want to see/experience the little quiet moments and memories.
my notes doc on my phone was so full of notes for fics, or screen shots of conversations chatting with besties about stories. sometimes voice memos LOL. i've drifted off from it SO much now and i hate that about myself, but i do know that this is always the tougher time of year for me to be creative and shit. there's never enough recovery time between shifts, there's extra shifts and shit to deal with, the sun goes down at 4:30pm daily, it's cold af. lol. nothing positive going on but the romanticizing of the holidays (which is why i like to host bingos this time of year and read y'alls creations lol)
oof! oh no! and LOL, yes, yes it is. i've got a shitty shoulder. what did i do? sleep on it wrong LOL. it sucks. returning to stuff is definitely hard too, esp if your body isn't quite ready. (and it will let you know lol)
ugh. yeah. it's been a month now and its definitely not healed. i just happened to hit a crack in the sidewalk downtown (was totally sober and wearing runners) but went down hard. i didn't have any kind of brace or anything to compress it with so the swelling got out of hand until i got a friend to take me to urgent care. it's much better now, and i'm generally not limping anymore, but it still aches after a shift lol. hopefully it's not going to be a permanent thing.
oh of course not! chatting like this is totally acceptable and a way to get to know people too! <3
hope you have wonderful week! sorry it took so long to get back to you, it's been one hit after another since the ankle injury lol.
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Can you save me - Chapter nine
Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x you
Summary: A hero arrived at North island to support Maverick on the Uranium plant mission preparation, underneath the though facade was a girl in desperate need of love, but can she love?
Warnings: blood & injury, fluff
A/N: this is pure fictional, I have no knowledge of the military and I know this is all not possible in real life, it’s all for the sake of the story.
Enjoy!
Series Masterlist - Previous chapter - Next Chapter
“Why haven’t we heard from her?” A now angry Rooster shouted at Tank. “Why isn’t she back yet? We need to find her!” He kept on shouting , almost forgetting to breath. He was angry, at everything and everyone, but mostly at himself. After you had said those beautiful three words, he was in awe for too long, before he had the chance to say it back you were both on your way to deck, surrounded by others. He hated himself for not saying it yet, what if he didn’t get to chance anymore? The chopper was already in sight, he couldn’t help himself to let the tears roll down his face.
“I’m sorry Rooster, she made me promise to bring you home safely.”
“Is that..?” Maverick pointed out at a visibly hurt figure stumbling it way to them.
“Oh my god, Ricochet.” The three of them came running up to you, shocked at the sight of you. There was blood all over the right side of your uniform, there were holes and it seems like you tried to patch up your arm and had a piece of fabric tied tightly around your leg.
“Baby, what happened, are you o-” but his whispering got interrupted by you collapsing in his arms, losing consciousness. “No, no, no, no, stay awake. I love you too.” Even though you were unconscious, Rooster seemed to notice the corner of your mouth creeping up a bit.
When you opened your eyes, you saw Rooster sleeping on your bed, holding you hand. Looking to the other side you, you saw the ship’s doctor.
“Lieutenant Commander, welcome back!” You tried to say something, but he motioned to take your time, get back to your senses first. “I’ve got to admit it’s a wonder what you’ve put your body through and made it back. You must have some excellent guarding angels. That being said, your body took a serious hit, the bullets just missed your major arteries.” Rooster was waking up by the voice of the Doc. “Lieutenant, good time to wake up, your friend has waken up too.” Rooster’s eyes went from sleepy to very big to take your awake form in.
“Hey, you okay? I was so scared I lost you.” He squeezed your hand a little tighter.
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” You smiled softly. “Rooster, you can inform the rest that I’m awake.” Rooster got the memo that you needed time with the doc alone.
“So, can you still remember everything?”
“Yes, every single bullet and getting whacked to a three due to a grenade.”
“Explains the bruises all over your body. The next phase you’re familiar with?”
“Yes, I’m familiar, I guess no walking yet?”
“Indeed. You’ll be okay.”
“You can say it, I feel it in my leg.”
“You won’t be able to go back as an operator.” You actually smiled at little at his early conclusion. “I’ve never seen this kind of positive reaction.”
“I guess I have been contemplating my future for a bit.”
“Only reason an operator would ever step down, there’s someone special?”
“You can say that.”
“It was him wasn’t it?” Rooster was probably not that subtile when you were out.
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” you smiled at him “how long was I out?”
“2 days. Can I ask you something Lieutenant Commander?”
“Please Ricochet or Ric, ask away Doc.”
“How did you manage to get back with those injuries? I’ve seen a lot of bigger guys with the same type of injuries but not being able to do what you did.”
“Being a woman," you joked, "Mental strength, I guess those guarding angels were really looking out for me and thinking of him made me stronger.” What you didn’t know was that Rooster had opened the door ajar and quickly stopped his tracks when he heard your soft voice. Hearing what you said made his heart melt even more after seeing your eyes open looking at him.
“Hey! Here’s some water, she can drink right doc?”
“Well this will be her first real test.” The water felt heavenly on your throat, not as heavenly as the feeling of Rooster’s hand had felt on yours, but it felt good.
“My first victory,” you smiled at both the Doc and Rooster, “it will take long, but I am going for many victories.”
“Lieutenant, it seems like you have got a very strong woman, take care of her. I’ll leave you two alone.”
“What? How does he know?” Rooster was watching Doc leave with a puzzled look.
“You camping here made him a little suspicious.”
“Y/N!” A wild bunch of pilots suddenly appeared in the sickbay. It felt good seeing them back, yes all of them. Their faces went from worried after seeing you all patched up to happy when you smiled at them.
“Are you okay Ma’am?”
“Oh sweet Bob, come here,” you pointed to the seat where Rooster had sat all night. When he sat you wiped away the tear on his cheek and took his hand in yours, Bob really became this little brother you wanted to protect from all the bad in the world, “I’m still here, it’s really hard to get rid of me.”
“When the medevac called in someone was badly and Rooster was screaming in the background, I was so scared. You made this family a real family and I don’t know what I, we would do without you.” Bob noticed a slight discomfort in your expression. “Oh sorry I was rambling, are you in pain?”
“It’s just, I think I need to lay down a little,” there was almost a fight to help you, with Bob helping you on your left side and eventually Phoenix winning for your right side to help reposition your cushion to lay down. “Thank you and to answer your question, I know it not an ideal answer, but I’m sort of trained to handle this pain and yeah, it’s not the first time. But Hangman over there, you would be asking to be sedated.” You laughed a little at your own comment, the rest of the aviator almost fell on the ground from laughing, but quickly regretting it as you started coughing.
“In pain, my ass.” Hangman muttered in between his teeth.
“But Hangman, now serious for a second, thank you for saving our asses.” Rooster said, leaving you dumbfounded.
“No one has told her yet?” Coyote spoke up.
“Doc was talking to her about her condition and then you guys came. I’ll leave the honour to you Hangman.” Rooster being the gentleman he was, let the man tell his story, also knowing he liked bragging about it.
“Well, as Bob said, we were all shocked after hearing what happened to you, yes even me. So I stayed with my plane, in case. And I was right, there was still one bandit out. I’ve got to admit, your pilot has some serious skills, dodging those rockets and bullets.”
“Why do you think we call him Dodge, he’s not called after the car. Jealous of his skills?”
“Nope, chopper’s too small for me. The guy definitely earned that name. But back to me, your pilot, Dodge, was doing a good job, but until it was getting almost too much, then boom. I came to save the day.” Rooster was right, Hangman needed to tell the story, not only to boost his ego, but also to cope with the almost losses of team members.
“Dear pilots, I think it’s time to let her rest for a little bit.” Doc interrupted the story session.
“Hangman, can you wait for one sec?” Rooster looked you, slightly hurt you didn’t call out him, so you mouthed him ‘love you, need to thank him’ at what Rooster nodded, also knowing once you got home you’ll be all his.
“Yeah sure, what’s up?”
“Thank you.”
“Just doing what I’m good at cupcake.” He gave you the typical Hangman big smile, rolling your eyes at him.
“I mean it, I know it was hard on you that Mav choose Rooster over you. But I don’t think Rooster could’ve saved us like you did. So thank you for saving us.”
“He indeed couldn’t have done that, he was scared after Mav was shot down, but you being hurt, I never heard him scream like that and it was in the background. I was actually scared too when I went after the bandit.” He paused for a second, completely changing the subject. “I really screwed up my chance with you, didn’t I? You really do love him don’t you?” You getting injured made him realise he really did care about you.
“I, uh, yes, I really love him. You’re a good guy under all that Hangman. You will find someone Jake, you just need patience. And be you. Stop all that hunting.”
“Can we still be friends?”
“No.” You were trying your best not to laugh, just to see his expression, but you were not expecting this sad face. And it looked serious. “Oh my god, I was just joking.” Before you could finish Hangman hugged you.
“Oh sorry Y/N I forgot for a second. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, are you though?”
“As long as we can still be friends after what I just said.”
“Are you kidding? Who would I tease, who can take it, if we wouldn’t be friends anymore, life would be boring then. And it would’ve never worked out between us. With Rooster, things are more, I don’t know how to say it.’
“More naturally, I think I understand. But if he ever hurt you, you need to tell me.”
“I’ll put you on the who to call-list. But I think the CIA will be first.”
“Good to hear, I’m happy for you. I hate to admit it, but you two look good together. Never say this to Rooster. This stays between us.”
“And me I guess.” Doc smiled.
“It’s time to rest now cupcake, maybe time to eat something. See ya later.”
What neither you or Hangman knew was that Rooster was still listening from the other side of the door, not because he didn’t trust you, he just was curious to what Hangman had to say to you. He definitely had not expected Hangman’s confession, but was relieved with your answer and the fact that Hangman actually supported your relationship.
***
“Ready to go home kiddo?”
“Kiddo? Seriously Tank? I’m only 15 years younger.”
“My point. Are you okay on the crutches?”
“I can endure until we’re off the carrier.”
“There’s a wheelchair waiting for you on the dock, so what are you going to do after you’re better?”
“I don’t know yet, I think I’m gonna follow Bradley and see where it takes me. What about you?”
“Stepping down voluntarily? The way you’re saying it, I don’t think you will regret it, adjusting to the new life on the other hand.”
“Yeah I know. My body is saying that it’s been enough, still gotta live a long life after this, so I’m not gonna ruin it more. What about you?”
“I don’t know yet, if I find a fine lady who loves my babies, I think I might want to something with animals.”
“Good for you, do what makes you happy.”
“Come on, let’s get home. I’ll deliver you to your boyfriend.”
“You guys coming to the Hard Deck?”
“No, I’m bringing Ricochet home, I guess I owe her at least that much.”
Once Rooster had helped you in his Bronco after throwing the bags in his trunk, you asked the inevitable question, while taking his hand in yours. “So what now?”
“You’re gonna live with me, I live on the ground floor and my place is trice the size of yours. I will help you with your revalidation.” Had you ever mentioned you were in love with his man? Your place was indeed a no go, too small and on the first floor with no elevator.
“I love you.” You babbled before kissing him on the cheek.
“I love you too baby, you okay with that?”
“Oh definitely yes, but all my stuff?”
“I’ll call some reinforcements and pack up. You can rest for a bit.”
“You’re prepared, I like that.” What would you honestly do without him
“Y/N, there actually one thing I’ve been dying to know, I don’t if you have made a decision yet and I know with everything going on now you maybe haven’t thought about it, but-”
“Bradley, please take a breath. And I made my decision before we left.”
“Oh.” He actually sounded disappointed.
“Why the disappointment? I am actually going to stay with you, I still want to stay in the Navy, just not operating anymore.”
“YES.” Rooster threw his hands in air -against the roof of his Bronco- in celebration.
“Hands on the steering wheel handsome, we still want to make it alive at your place.”
“You mean that what you just said?”
“Yup, I’ll follow you where your new orders will take you, revalidate there further, and invade your personal space.”
“I love the sound of that.”
Taglist: @cycbaby , @mrsjaderogers , @5ugarcan3 , @mak-32 , @bradleybeachbabe , @iamdannyday, @ciderwebs
Let me know what you think!
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Obsessed with your imagines you so when they have 3 kids and they’re all older! What about one where Harry has to have a sex talk with his kids OR y/n and Harry come home to find their kids throwing a party? I think both could be super funny
this has me excited cause i love the idea of them throwing a party when y/n and harry are at date night!! (does contain smut)
oli - 21, felix - 19, belle - 16
“We’re so fucking screwed.”
“Belle, for the millionth time, chill the fuck out.”
But how the fuck was anyone supposed to be chill when there was a full-on house party, close to being a rave, occurring in their house? A house that was their mum’s life work. A house party that their parents new nothing about. A night where absolutely anything and everything could go wrong.
The three siblings stood at the bottom of the stairs, in front of the door, looking around at the scenes occurring between each room. There were girls whispering to each other on the sofas, there was a group of guys playing beer pong in the kitchen and there was a large group of people hanging around by the pool and some even taking a dip. What had meant to be a low-key party had managed to turn into the whole neighbourhood plus the next town over. It was completely overboard.
“Who’s idea was this again?” Belle asked, clearly not understanding the full reasoning behind a full fledged party in their house.
“All of ours.” Oli responded, when in reality it was really just his, and a bit of Felix, idea.
“Nope. I’m not getting grounded because you two dickheads wanted to be rebels.” Belle put her hands up as if to stop this whole situation. She did not want to be a part of this and yet had somehow got screwed up with it all.
“So what are you going to do?” Felix asked.
“Anywhere where this doesn’t have my name stamped all over it.” Belle gestured around her, all of them groaning when they heard something smash from a nearby room. They were actually going to be locked up forever after this.
“Belle, mum and dad are out for the night. Dad said he booked a hotel for them to stay over at, so they won’t even be back until tomorrow morning.” Oli explained, trying to calm down his very nervous sister.
“Yeah, plus if you’re so insistent on leaving why did you get so dressed up?” Felix did have a point. Belle had gone through the effort tonight to be looking as best she could. She was sporting a little black dress with black fishnet tights and her trusty Doc Martens. It was a very colourful outfit, as she would explain. Belle had even gone to the effort of adding glue-on gems to her makeup. Whereas her brothers were just wearing sweaters and trousers and trainers. Typical teenage boys.
“I’ll bet that’s why.” Oli nodded behind Belle and smirked as he watched his little sister turn around.
Megan Dover. Belle’s high school crush and cleverest person in the year. Felix and Oli caught Belle blush when their little sister looked at Megan, waving to her cutely. Belle was a lot more introverted than Megan, but Belle didn’t mind. She admired that Megan was so outspoken and kind and smart, but too bad they didn’t truly know of Belle’s existence. At least, not really.
“Alright fine, i’ll stay, but just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Belle rolled her eyes and then walked off in the direction of the kitchen - if she was ever going to speak to Megan she’d need at least 4 shots in her system.
“Be safe little B.” Oli waved her off and then the two brothers looked at each other knowingly. “Is Heather here?”
“Not yet no, think she’s coming with the girls in a bit.” Felix checked his phone as his brother questioned him. “What about Bea?”
“She’s upstairs.”
“Why? I thought we weren’t allowing anyone upstairs?”
“Dude she’s my girlfriend, I think she gets a pass.” Oli patted his brothers back and then saunters up the stairs two at a time to go and find his girlfriend and reintroduce her to the party.
Another smash of something glass sounding came from the kitchen, along with a turn of screams and mumbles of oops.
“Fuck, we are so screwed.” Felix muttered under his breath as he made his way to the kitchen to clean up whatever was now broken.
••••
Meanwhile, you and Harry were basking in each other’s presence at a fancy new restaurant downtown called Caste Inn.
Harry decided it was time for you to have a treat and so was taking you out for dinner and then retreating to a fancy hotel, where he would not let you rest for the whole night. He was already being really handsy this evening, but you kept swatting his prying hands away because you were in public.
“Babe, c’mon i’m dying here!” He whined as you swatted his hand away from the skirt of your dress for the fifth time since mains. You were lucky you were in a crescent shaped booth so it was hard for anyone to see what was going on underneath the table, but you still felt so exposed.
“Quit it Harry.” You sniped, returning your attention back to the desserts menu. The restaurant was that kind of place where the portions are sparrow sized and yet cost you as much as it would to donate a kidney, so there was no surprise that you were still hungry and had room for dessert.
“Just wanna love on my wife.” He pouted next to you, keeping his arm slunk around the back of the booth to continue to caress your far shoulder delicately.
“We’re in the middle of a restaurant, you’re crazy.” You snickered, trying your hardest to focus on the desserts; Tiramisu, Chocolate Orange Gateau, Pecan Pie, Creme Brulé and an endless list of more mouthwatering yumminess.
“Fucking crazy for you, yes.” He kissed your cheek once, twice and then bit it too on the third, making you moan slightly at the exposure of it all. “You used to let me do this kind of thing all the time, what happened hey?”
“I got old.” You laughed, but really you felt saddened by the thought of it. You were approaching your forties and you felt as though time wasn’t on your side anymore. Life was all flying by so fast and it was becoming so hard to stop it for a moment to see how beautiful it all is. Harry could tell you were faking your happiness in that moment and he hated that you felt this way. He loved you. He would worship the ground you walk upon. Nothing would ever be too much of an ask for him if it meant keeping your happy. Yes, you were getting older, but it didn’t mean that was a bad thing. At least you were getting older together and becoming maturer together.
“Talk to me, love.” He gently asked, knowing there was something on your mind that was bothering you.
“I just… I just feel like i’m getting older—”
“You are love, yes.” He interrupted you, which earned him a slap to the thigh. He didn’t let your hand go though, leaving it to rest on his tight thigh.
“And then suddenly that’s going to be it. No more Y/N.”
“Don’t say things like that to me, please love.” Harry shook his head, squeezing your hand a little tighter.
“And I feel like i’ll have regretted not doing so many things. Like I won’t have lived my life.”
“Things like?”
“Things like riding a motorcycle with you. Things like staying up all night with a bottle of wine and a good bit of Elvis. Reckless things, like skinny dipping or crashing a high school party. Things like, having my husband finger fuck me in a public restaurant. I remember when everything seemed so free and chaotic and I loved it. Now I feel stuck.”
“Stuck how, love?” Harry leaned in closer to you, his eyes full of love and determination because if that’s what you wanted he could give you all those things - especially the orgasm.
“I’m a mum, H. You’re a dad. We’re parents,m. Good ones at that. Aren’t we supposed to be grown up and responsible now? We don’t get to take risks anymore, because we have a family right? God, I sound so pathetic.” You sighed and put the menu down, not thinking about which pudding you wanted to fill yourself up with anymore.
“Babe. If you want to ride a motorcycle and go skinny dipping then let’s fucking do it. Why are you so afraid to hold back? Because we have kids, because darling believe me when I tell you - however much it disturbs me - our kids are out doing just as many reckless and crazy things as we used to do. Maybe we should fuck the prestigious system and show our children, all parents - including us - that adulthood, parenthood, doesn’t define the choices you make. We do.”
You couldn’t stop looking at your husband, drinking in every last drop of his beauty. His words filled your heart with rose petals and chocolates, warming you up delightfully. God, you were so lucky to have him. He helped you through the most toughest of times and continued to stick with you, not because a ring says he has to, but because he loves you. Undeniably and irrevocably loves you.
That was all it took for you to comply.
Quickly, you moved one of your legs under the table cloth so it draped over Harry’s thighs and made an opening between your legs. The cloth hid everything well, along with the dirty napkins that sat upon your laps.
“Wh- what are you doing love?” Harry asked confused, after not hearing a word back from you for his earlier speech.
“Harry I love you, I do, but will you just shut up and fuck my pussy with your fingers already.” You whispered wetly against his ear with your lips. He groaned at the words and tightened his grip around your leg, widening the gap he had to work with.
His hand slid underneath your dress slowly, squeezing the flesh of your thighs in tease, until he got to where your panties were. Or at least where they should be.
“Shit, you’re not wearing any pants?” Harry asked quizzically, pushing his fingers against your glistening pussy and feeling just how ready you were for him.
“Oh fuck!” You muffled out before Harry quickly slapped your slit because you were making too much noise, which only then made you squeal a bit more. He slapped your cunt hard enough the second time for you to get the memo that you needed to be quiet - but fuck was that a challenge. As much as you can be quiet, you just don’t like to be. You like knowing that your moans and whines turn Harry in even more, just as much as you love hearing his.
“Fucking hell, soaked already.” His fingers toyed with the folds of your cunt, feeling how puffy they were between his ringed fingers. “Gotta be quiet for me okay?” Just as he started pushing his delicious fingers inside of you, the waiter turned up at the table with a cheery face and not a bouncing clue what was happening between the two of you.
“Desserts?” He asked politely with his charming smile, but you didn’t see it for too long before having to close your eyes shut at the sudden movement of Harrys fingers. He wasn’t stopping on the waiters behalf, in fact he was more forcefully going for it. He moved his fingers in circles inside of you, thumbing over your clit in the way he knew you desired most. He was insatiable.
Reckless.
“No, just the bill please. Need to take my wife home to take care of some things.” Harry spoke for you both, not understanding why he was being so open with the amount of information he was giving away. But fucking hell you didn’t care because his fingers were providing you pleasures beyond reason.
“Yes Sir. I’ll only be two minutes.” He smiled again before he was gone, taking the menus with him.
“Here that baby?” Harry whispered into your ear, moving his fingers more freely now there was less of an audience, “you’ve got two minutes to cum.”
“Wha—”
Questioning his authority would have to wait, for Harry got to work very quickly and perfectly. His fingers slicked in and out of you so erotically and if it wasn’t for the live music and loud chatter of the room, the sounds of his fingers driving in and out of you would be heard by everyone. His fingers curled to all the right places, touching the most sensitive parts of your walls and hell did it feel blissful.
“I’d say you’ve got about a minute left baby, and I think you can cum for me before then. Can’t you? Or am I not good enough for that kind of release anymore?” Harry taunted you and pressed wet kisses to your ear. You were too lost in euphoric paradise to notice, or even care, whether anyone could see or was watching you both. You were too focused on your husband. Your Harry.
“N-no. I can cum. You’re so good - shit - so g-good.” You stammered out, breathless from the air stolen from your lungs because of this erotic moment. This was so bad behaved of you both that you were starting to get a high off of it.
“Cum for me then baby. Do it. I’ve got you.” He kissed your lips to capture the moan that trailed off your tongue as you reached your high. You felt so high and yet so safe. Harry steadied you as your legs shook and kissed you senseless, to quieten your whines. He admired that you had been so willing for this and he would be lying if he said he didn’t have a raging hard-on right now.
“I love you,” you raced out quickly, “I love you.”
“I love you, Y/N.” He kissed your lips again and withdrew his fingers from your dripping cunt. You picked up a napkin but he quite quickly took it away from you, throwing it to the other side of the table.
“What are you doing?” You whisper shouted, needing to clean yourself up.
“More like what are you doing?”
“Cleaning my mess.” You said frustratedly.
“Leave that to me.” He spoke whilst holding intense eye contact with you, bringing his fingers that were coated in your arousal to his lips and sucking them dry. Every last drop worked its way into his mouth and he salivated at the taste - the smell.
“Harry—”
“The bill Sir.” The waiter interrupted you without knowing. Harry took out his wallet and used his card on the card machine, before signing his name on the cheque as if to affirm that he has paid.
“Thank you.” Harry spoke kindly, completely different to how he was with you all but two minutes ago.
“Thank you Sir, Ma’am. Have a lovely rest of your evening.” And he wad gone again with his smile.
Harry turned to you with the largest grin on his face, “Oh we will.”
••••
“Oli stop eating the leftover lasagne it’s for mums lunch!”
Belle was rushing around trying to chill everything down. The party was so out of control that even Oli and Felix were wasted. Megan was blowing hot and cold with her too, so she had no idea where she stood with them.
People were everywhere. Too many people that it was becoming claustrophobic. Felix was currently playing beer pong with a group of his friends, Heather attached at his hip, whilst Oli was sitting on the kitchen countertop eating cold lasagne. The boy was like chuffing Garfield. Belle was doing her best to keep calm, but as the night progressed it started to become worse and worse as it got harder to control.
As Belle turned to leave the kitchen, her brother clearly not listening to her, she bumped into someone. Kyle. Fucking Kyle. The guy who had obsessed over her to the point where Harry was seriously considering getting a restraining order on him to protect his daughter. He was a straight A creep and Belle hadn’t even realised he’d been invited to this party. Then again, over half of these people had most definitely not been invited.
“Oh hey Isabelle.” He stressed her whole name, knowing how much she hated it. Well, she didn’t hate her name she just hated him saying her name.
“Go away Kyle.”
“But I just got here.”
“And now you can just leave. Party’s ending anyways.” Belle stood her ground, but her hands were shaking from being even remotely close to this guy. He was disgusting to the point where if you were stuck between having to choose between being with him or eating mouldy cheese, you’d eat the cheese on a fucking silver platter.
“Looks quite alive to me.”
“Well i’m shutting it down and you’re going to leave. Now.”
“You need to liven up Belle.” Kyle chuckled through his nose, making him look scary as he towered over Belle, “let me help you.” He leaned forwards to grab her arm but she was quick to push him away.
“No! Leave me alone!” Belle shouted, trying to dodge around him but he was quicker. He grabbed her arm tight and pulled her back to him, chest touching chest. “Get off me Kyle.” Belle squirmed in his hold, which only made Kyle happier - the creep.
“C’mon Bella, live a little.”
“My name’s not Bella and I told you to get the fuck off of me.” Belle pulled back with all her might, whilst kicking him square in the balls - probably hard enough so he’ll never be able to have children - and then drove her knee up to crack his nose - successfully. Damn, that felt good. Heavily badass, actually.
“You fucking psycho!” Kyle held his nose and his balls in pain, straightening himself up as if to launch himself with fury at Belle. Luckily for her the outburst between the pair had caught attention of people - including Oli and Felix.
Oli was quick to step in front of Kyle, Felix just behind him. “You dare lay a fucking finger on my sister and I swear to you you’ll regret it.” Oli threatened, fists curled tight at his sides.
Heather came to hug Belle, comforting as she cried through the after shock of the situation. She’d been so brave and handled herself so well though. “You okay?” She kindly asked.
“Y-yeah.” No.
Everyone was now watching. The music had been muted to the point where you could tell it was playing but you couldn’t tell which song it was. Friends of Oli and Felix were standing close by in case things got messy, which normally only happened between the two brothers and not this way. Doors could be heard opening and shutting as people came in and out from places to watch the debacle occur between the hosts of the party and the unwelcome visitor. Oli and Felix knew they had to be careful though, because one wrong video and it could badly effect their dad’s career. Belle shook in Heathers arms and wished this nightmare of an evening to be over.
“Oh the whore’s not worth it anyways.” Kyle laughed, rolling his eyes as he pointed towards Belle.
“The fuck did you just call my daughter?”
Oh fucking shit balls.
“Dad?” Belle asked warily, seeing his dad stood in the doorway of the front door, her mum standing close behind him with her hand tightly clutched to his. As much as Belle was terrified that her parents had busted them, she also felt safe in their presence.
“Oh and here comes perfect-dad-of-the-year Harry Styles to the rescue.” Kyle teased which made Felix move forward in protest of his words.
“Fix.” Harry sternly called his name, making his son stop and look towards his dad who was shaking his head with a soft smile. Harry walked over towards Belle first, you still clutched tightly to him. “You alright?” He asked sincerely, not looking cross or disappointed at all. Belle nodded quickly and kept her head pressed to Heather’s chest. Harry turned to see his boys, raising his eyebrows to wordlessly ask them the same question to which they nodded too.
Harry dropped your hand, leaving you to stand with your sons, and left your forehead with a kiss before making his way to Kyle. “You okay boys?” You asked again, even though you knew Harry just asked.
“Yeah. Are you mum?” Oli asked, coming to wrap his arm around his mums neck to comfort her. He was so kind and thoughtful, just like his dad.
“Listen up, Kyle.” Harry started, keeping a good distance between him and the boy, “If you ever come near my family again i’m ordering a restraining order. That’s not a threat, it’s a promise. If you break that order you’ll be going to jail. Big league jail too. Again not a threat, a promise. So you’re going to leave my house, this property in its’ entirety and go home to sit in your room and think about whether you would prefer to be in a prison cell instead. Do you understand?”
Okay, you’d be lying if you said his authority didn’t turn you on.
“Y-yeah.” Kyle mumbled pathetically.
“I said do you understand?” Harry repeated again, clearly not satisfied with the answer given.
“Yes Mr Styles.” Kyle said more surely, before scramming from the house, from the party and from the neighbourhood.
“Now everyone out of my house before I call the police.” Everyone knew how that was not an empty threat and dashed out of his house. Some looked at him in awe, because this was probably their once and only chance of being in the presence of the Harry Styles. He sighed as he walked to the kitchen, leaning against the kitchen counter to think.
“Should we—” Belle started to talk but you cut her off.
“No, hunny. Let me go talk to your dad. You lot,” referring to your children and girlfriends who’d kindly stayed behind in support, “can go fetch some bin liners and start cleaning this all up.” You pointed around to the mess that was your house, before walking off to the kitchen.
You looked around at the mess. A broken vase. Litter everywhere. Half-drunken drinks left on the table. Bottle openers you definitely didn’t own before tonight. Trousers? You couldn’t help but giggle at the surrounding sight.
“What’s got you laughing?” Harry asked, still in his fancy shoes and fancy coat, you still in your fancy heels and your fancy coat. Yet, you were both standing in what looks like a garbage dump site. Harry moved his hand away from his face and looked at you with a blank expression.
“You were right!” You laughed.
“Your reaction as if that’s a bloody miracle, love, which kind of an ego crush, but continue.” He rolled his eyes and you rolled yours in response. You clicked your way over to him and wrapped your arms around his waist, he kept his wrapped around his own obviously still closing himself off.
“Our kids are being reckless and crazy.” You recalled dinners earlier conversation, smiling up at him in admiration.
“I didn’t actually mean it, it was just a quick way to make you feel better.” He groaned in frustration.
“Well gee thanks babe!” You laughed at the whole irony of this situation. “Harry, babe, look at me,” you had to used your hand to turn his cheek to face you, stroking his cheek to calm him, “adulthood - parenthood - doesn’t define the choices we have to make. We do. And our children, apart from that last little bit, seemed like they had the most freeing and most brilliant night yet! Let them be reckless H. Let them make mistakes. Just because this happened doesn’t make us bad parents, and it doesn’t make us bad parents if we decide no punishment—”
“Ha like that’s going to happen!” Harry cut you off and you glared at him to just shut up.
“Just shut up, you oaf. Let the kids live while they’re young.”
“You did not just reference one of my songs.” Harry looked to the ceiling as he smiled widely, before shortly laughing at how cheesy that was. “Oh my god Y/N!”
“What? Was is that bad?”
“Yes, babe. Yeah it really was.” He looked back down at you to see you smiling and he couldn’t help but cup your cheeks and kiss you silly. His perfect lips fit yours and you tasted him until you couldn’t breathe. “I love you.”
“I love you. Now go help clean up.” You ordered him, making him look at you confused.
“What the hell have I done to deserve this?”
“You booked the hotel for next weekend instead of this weekend you div. Now go.” You smacked his backside and he strolled back over to you and pushed you into the counter. You gasped at the sudden motion.
“Do that again and let’s see what happens.” He whispered dangerously against your lips.
“Go clean up and then see what’s waiting in our bedroom.” You bit your lip and tugged Harry’s hand to under your dress, giving him only a slight feel of how wet you were before letting his hand go and walking away.
“Kids, hand me a bloody bin bag. Now!”
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfic#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fanfiction#finelinevogue#finelinevogue harry styles#harry blurb#harry oneshot#harry styles concept#harry styles little moments#little moments oliver#little moment felix#little moments belle#little moments masterlist#little moments finelinevogue#little moments#little moments masterlist finelinevogue#harry styles dad#dadrry#harry styles smut#harry styles sex#harry styles public sex#harry styles kids
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Inside, outside
Pairing: 10k x reader, Addy Carver sister!reader
Warnings: main character death, swearing
Chapter: 1.12
You aimed your arrow in the direction of the clattering noise, but quickly lowered it when you saw it was only 10k climbing onto the roof of the van. He’d been extra careful to be quiet while he left the small hut everyone else was sleeping in.
He sat down beside you with his legs dangling off the side.
“I’ve only been here five minutes,” you said quietly. “Your shift ended hours ago. You didn’t need to come back out.”
Even with the dim light, you could make out the outline of a smile playing on his lips. It was a routine you had gotten into. Whenever you were on watch, 10k would always join you, despite your protests of it not being fair to him.
You sat in a comfortable silence, observing the night sky until he broke it. “Can I ask you something? And you don’t need to answer if you don’t want to.”
You cocked your head and looked at him curiously, “anything.”
“Your pa…” he paused to chew on his bottom lip. “What happened?” You stared blankly ahead, while 10k continued to talk. “You call out for him in your sleep sometimes,” he shuffled closer to you. “We can pretend I didn’t ask, I just... I just wanted you to know I’m always here.”
You linked your fingers with his. He was truly one of the sweetest people you’d ever met. “It’s fine. I’ve never even told Addy the full story.” You already felt the tears building up at the back of your eyes. You’d been living all this time with guilt bubbling up inside you, and now it was time to talk about it. “I’ve always been scared to tell her, ya know? I'm scared she’d hate me. I was being a brat and got our dad killed.”
You pressed your lips together, feeling a lump forming in your throat, but you pushed the feeling back. “My parents got divorced before the apocalypse. My dad had an affair with a woman from his work and left my mom for her.”
10k gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.
“His new home was really small, and he converted the garage into a bedroom. Addy refused to go, so I shared it with my brother.” You tried not to pay attention to the way your lips trembled, thinking of how different things could have been if you hadn’t acted like a typical moody teenager. “I’d gotten into an argument with my dad and his girlfriend... I can’t even remember what it was about, but anyway, I stormed off to my room and turned my music up to full volume because I knew how much it pissed them off.”
10k stayed silent, staring at you through his blue eyes.
“The noise must have attracted the Z’s,” you whispered. “My dad’s girlfriend, Daniella, uh, came into my room covered in blood, saying my dad had been attacked... Daniella had been bitten, and although I didn’t understand it at the time, I panicked and locked her in the garage.”
“How did you get out of there?”
“I climbed out of the window, and saw my dad- well, what was once my dad, trying to attack our neighbours. I hit him on the head with a rock to stop him. I hitched a ride with my neighbors, who dropped me off at my mom's house. When I arrived, Addy had just shown mercy to her and our brother.”
“I’m really sorry, Astra,”
“Don’t be,” you smiled sadly. “We’ve all lost someone we love.”
10k leaned forward and kissed your forehead. “What happened wasn't your fault; the Z's would have attacked anyway. And Addy could never hate you.”
You kissed his cheek, “Thank you. It actually felt good to talk about it.”
You sat in comfortable silence together until your shift was over.
—
“Hey,” Doc nudged your elbow and whispered, “How is she holding up?”
You turned and faced Cassandra, who was half asleep. Her condition had started to deteriorate over night. “She needs antibiotics badly.”
“Poor kid, that infection ain’t clearing up,” the older man sighed.
Before you could reply, you heard 10K saying your name. “Uh- Astra?”
You ran towards Cassandra, who was throwing up. You brushed her hair out of her face and rubbed her back. “Do you feel any better?”
“Yeah,” she panted. “A little.”
You and 10k both helped Cassandra get to her feet and made your way towards the van. Once she was safely strapped in, you hopped in beside her.
Usually you would be leaning against 10k with his arm wrapped around you, but you were too tense for that. Cassandra was slowly dying and there was nothing you could do to help her.
Warren opened the car door, with an odd expression on her face. “Change of plans, gang, we’re not going to California anymore.”
You leaned forward. “Where are we going instead? What happened to the lab?”
Her lips pressed together into a thin line. “Change of plans, we are taking Murphy to Dr. Merch in Fort Collins.”
Your eyes widened. Dr. Merch was the one who injected Murphy in the prison, making him immune. “I’m sure he’ll be glad to see her again.”
“I bet he will.”
Warren closed the door behind her and sat down without saying another word. It unsettled you how unconvinced Warren seemed about the new plan.
—
You wake up with a strong feeling of unease.
It’s strong enough to pull you out of sleep, strong enough to leave you feeling on edge. You don't know why or where it came from, considering your mission was almost coming to an end, but it lingers around you. It’s strong enough that 10k notices and looks at you worried.
“How about you, kid?” Doc asks. “What are your plans after this?”
10k’s gaze shifts to his hands. “Uh, I don’t know. I still got 6,998 to go. I might take a break for a while, though, and head up north somewhere cold. The Z’s don’t fare too well in the cold.”
You suddenly felt like you’d been punched in the gut. It finally hit you what was bothering you. 10K, Doc, Warren, Cassandra, and even Murphy had become like family to you, and you were going to lose them soon.
“Astra? What have you got planned?” Warren asked.
You shrugged. “Honestly, I’ve no idea. But I know I’ll miss fighting the dead beside you all.”
Cassandra looked up at you and smiled weakly, “You can always go back for Addy.”
“Yeah,” you said, nodding.
Your eyes moved to 10K, who was still staring at his hands.
—
“This is up ahead,” Warren said, leaning forward. “Citizen Z said to look for a metal shed with a roll-up door.”
10k placed his hand on your lower back as he leaned up to get a better look at the small crowd of Z’s gathered outside the shed. “What are they all looking at?”
“Our entrance,” you sighed. “It looks really small.”
As the others jumped out of the van, 10K turned to look at you. “You really have no plans after this?”
“No... I was doubting we would ever get to California,” you said quietly.
You felt awkward having this conversation in front of Cassandra, despite the fact that she was pretending to not listen in. It wasn’t just because you and 10k had a different relationship than everyone else; it was because you didn’t think she’d live long enough to do anything else.
Suddenly, Warren and Doc jumped back into the van, closely followed by hungry Z’s. “How much ammo have we got?”
“Two bullets,” 10k answered.
There were only three arrows left because you didn't make more of them sooner.
You braced yourself for the worst when the back of the van opened and Murphy stood there with a smug look on his face. “Group hug.”
“Excuse me?”
He scoffed, “You want to live or not?”
You all clung to Murphy as you walked through the group of Z’s, and amazingly, nobody got bitten as you made it to the shed.
Warren pressed in the code and then dragged you in with her. The inside of the shed turned out to be an elevator.
“You know, before the apocalypse, I had the same effect on the ladies,” Murphy said smugly.
You rolled your eyes at his dumb comment.
The elevator doors open, and you step into what looks like a hospital hallway littered with dead bodies. “What do you think all the zombies are gathering up there?”
“Brains,” Doc said, shrugging.
“No,” Murphy shook his head. “Something inside is attracting them like a magnet. I can feel it.”
You stared at him, concerned for a moment, before noticing an intact ID badge. You leaned down and removed it from the dead staff member's uniform, before swiping it to open another set of doors.
Warren led the way as your group walked into a laboratory. Four scientists had died sitting round a table while celebrating someone’s birthday, and you could tell from the smell and appearance that they had been there a while. You fought the urge to throw up when Murphy ate some of the stale looking birthday cake. “That’s disgusting.”
“The vaccine makes me crave sugar,” he smiled.
A clattering noise filled the air, and you reached for your weapon. Puppies and kittens.
—
You watched as Doc and 10k teamed up together to kill the last Z’s, which was strangely entertaining.
Hearing a ring, you shushed Murphy when he started to talk. “You guys hear that? It sounds like a phone.”
You walk around the corner and come to a desk with two dead workers leaning across it.The phone was ringing beside them. Doc picked it up and read out the texts that appeared to be from the husband to his wife.
“This one’s for Citizen Z!” he said. “Operation bite mark. If you get this message, please respond. The mainframe of the lab has been hacked and searched.Discovered files you should be aware of. Really weird stuff. Find a working computer. Search for HZN1 test results backslash backslash code level nine. Password: Red Death.”
Oh god. You dreaded thinking about what you’d find in those files.
Murphy quickly shoved the bodies away from the desk and began typing into the computer, a video of zombified monkeys appearing on screen.
You leaned in closer to the screen, “Look at the dates. This was taken a year before the outbreak happened.”
“They were looking for a vaccine before anybody was infected,” Murphy added.
He brought up another video, and this time it was of Dr. Merch questioning a worker about a decontamination alarm going off. Warren had to calm Murphy down as he yelled at the screen.
“Raise your hands, who wants to leave here right now?” Doc asked. Yourself, Doc, 10k, and Cassandra raised your hands. “Alright then! Back out to the apocalypse it is.”
“Nobody’s going anywhere,” Murphy said sternly. “This is not a goddamn democracy. We came here to find Dr. Merch, and that is exactly what we are going to do.”
You didn’t want to admit it, but he was right. If the doctor was alive, you couldn’t just leave her.
—
As you entered another room, the phone rang again, and this time you answered it. “Astra speaking, who may I direct your call to during this zombie apocalypse?”
10k laughed at your comment before helping your wounded friend sit down.
“Operation bite mark?”
“What’s left of us,” you replied.
“Excellent. Are you all still together?”
“Yeah, we are. So, what fresh hell awaits us?”
“According to the operations manual I’ve hacked into, you’re going to need to go through decontamination.”
Finally, a decent shower.
“Here’s the most important thing: It’s imperative that you decontaminate again before going back to the surface. This lab is equipped with Defcom level one quarantine assurance. In the event of a breach of the quarantine system, the lab is targeted to be incinerated by a tactical nuclear weapon.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
You felt your face fall as Citizen Z explained that to go through the decontamination unit you had to be naked.
—
You blushed as you stood awkwardly between Cassandra and 10k, naked as the day you were born.
You couldn't help but glance at 10k, who was doing the same to you. You chuckled when Warren clicked her fingers in his face and said, “Eyes up front, young man.”
10k stared straight ahead, “sorry.”
Warren tutted, "Damn kids and your young people's hormones."
The smile fell from your lips as a hand pressed against your shoulder. “Cassandra, are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said, “just tired.”
While you were focused on her, the others stared at Murphy, concerned about his scars spreading across his body.
10k handed you a pair of goggles, and you couldn’t help the smirk that grew on your face. He was trying so hard to keep his eyes everywhere but on your body. This definitely wasn't how you imagined seeing each other without clothes on for the first time would go.
“Thank you, Tommy,” you whispered.
When everyone had their goggles on, 10k pressed the button to start the process, and a loud hissing noise filled the room.
—
Once you finished redressing, you noticed Cassandra sliding down the wall onto the ground. “Hey, hey, you're okay.”
She said this while making eye contact with you before turning to face Warren.
The three of you knew she didn’t have much time left without help, but if the doctor was here, she’d know what to do. “Someone can carry you,” you said.
“I can,” 10k said before lifting her up.
You walked down the hallway slowly, deliberately staying at the back to be beside 10k in case anything attacked him and he couldn’t defend himself. You couldn’t help but notice how 10k was now starting to struggle to carry her on his own.
“I’m going to get us all killed,” Cassandra said quietly. “Please put me down.”
10k gently put her on the ground, with a guilty look on his face. Since your small group had come together, you’d learned Tommy was the most sensitive of everyone, and he beat himself up whenever he couldn’t save someone.
“You guys should go, I’ll be fine here.”
“Don’t be stupid,” you kneeled beside her. “We aren’t leaving you here.”
“Stupid?” She looked up at you through heavy eyes. “You're jealous that your man carried me bridal-style before you.”
You chuckled at her words, but had to stop when you felt it turning into a sob. “We'll get you antibiotics,” you say as you stand up and look at 10k. “Help me find an empty room.”
—
Once you found an old storage cupboard 10k placed Casandra gently onto the table. She looked exhausted. You inhaled sharply as she thanked ‘Tommy’ for everything he’d done for her.
When 10K left the room, you held her hand and said, “I’m going to try my best to help you, I promise.”
“Y/N, don’t waste your time coming back for me.”
You looked at her and shook your head. “You are a survivor. I’m not leaving you behind to die.”
“Never trust survivors until you learn what they did to survive.”
You pressed your forehead against Cassandra’s while holding back tears, silently begging her not to die.
“I’ve never said this before and meant it, but thank you, Astra, for everything,” she said before groaning in pain. “You saved me from Tobis, even when I’d put your sister in danger.” She sobbed, “Promise me you won’t let 10k show me mercy when the time comes.”
“I promise,” you mumbled as you gulped down the lump in your throat, “but don't you dare die on me, Cass.”
“I’ll try my best, now go.”
Nodding, you left the room and held the door open so Murphy could enter.
Warren placed her arm around your shoulder and said, “She’s strong.”
Unable to speak, you nodded in agreement, knowing any words you said would only come out in a sob. When Murphy exited the room moments later, he quickly rushed down the hallway, “let’s go.”
You shared a look of confusion with 10k.
“Check this out,” Murphy said, pointing to a blood trail on the floor. “This trail of gore leads to here. Bio containment.”
You reached a doorway with dark red lights shining down on it. Warren pulled out her weapon before taking the lead and opening the door.
You gasped, “holy shit.” The room appeared to be full of metal looking coffins. “This is beyond sick.”
Hearing a gurgling sound, you approached a hospital trolley that had a nearly fully decomposed Z on it that was still breathing. 10k placed his hand on your side as you stepped back in disgust.
“Is that Doctor Merch?” Warren asked.
Murphy walked closer to inspect it. “No,” he confirmed. “It’s the lab tech in the video.” Murphy knelt down and stared into Z’s eyes. “It wants us to watch something.”
The Z hit play on the computer and the video showed the first ever vaccine being tested on humans. The doctor was vile and cruel, and didn’t spare the lab tech a second thought.
“The vaccine must have worked,” Doc pointed out. “Kept him from turning into a zombie.”
The Z… or lab tech, asked for someone to kill him. It seemed physically impossible that he was still alive with the bottom half of his body missing, yet he was.
The computer screen changed and Citizen Z appeared. “You’ve got company. It looks like Doctor Merch and two soldiers are headed your way. They should be there any second.”
The doors swung open and the doctors and soldiers entered, fully suited in protective clothing. You grabbed Murphy by the shoulder to hold him back.
The doctor removed their mask, and it turned out to be a completely different person. “Doctor Merch didn’t make it. I’m her boss, Doctor Kurtz. I’m here to help you save mankind.”
You glanced over to the computer screen, and frowned. The screen had gone blank.
—
“We’ve gone to a great deal of effort to find you, Mr. Murphy.”
“I’ve been on a little road trip,” Murphy bit back.
“Well, your journey ends here. You’re safe now. And your friends are to be commended for their bravery and commitment. Your country, all mankind, owes you a great deal.”
You looked at the doctor up and down. He was an older, short, bald man, and everything he said sounded like bullshit. You took a step closer, glaring at him, “What’s going to happen to Murphy?”
“We’ll take him the rest of the way to the lab in California, where we’ll sequence his genes and clone the antibodies in his blood. Then, with any luck, we’ll be able to recreate the vaccine that keeps him alive.”
“What if he doesn’t want to go with you?” You asked.
Kurtz glared at you, “Then he will end up like patient zero over there.”
10k linked his fingers with yours and pulled you back so you were beside him. While one hand was still clasped around yours, you noticed his other hand was firmly gripped around his gun. He was waiting for something to happen.
At the request of Kurtz, Warren handed Murphy her knife so he could show the lab tech mercy.
Murphy seemed to be telepathically communicating with the lab tech as he cried. “I give you mercy.” He stabbed the half human, half Z in the head and then spun round. “I’m not going.”
“Murphy,” Warren said, walking towards him. “This is why we have come so far.”
As Kurtz and his soldiers walked towards Murphy at a slow pace, you let go of 10k’s hand and stepped between them. “Explain to us why we should believe anything you say.”
“Let’s start with you having no choice,” the man said smugly.
When one of the soldiers pointed a gun at you, both 10k and Doc stepped in. “Now there's no need for this to get crazy,” Doc said calmly. “The girl is just upset about her friend leaving. Isn’t that right, Astra?” You didn’t reply. “She’s very emotional that one, the hot-tempered kind.”
Before Kurtz had the chance to answer him, a scratching sound came from outside. At first you thought it was a zombie, but when the door opened it was much worse. Cassandra. She entered the room with a bite mark on her face.
What happened next took everyone by surprise. Murphy commanded Cassandra to kill the soldiers, and she did. Kurtz shot Doc in the chest before taking off after Murphy.
Anger boiled inside you. Ignoring the pls from 10k, and Warren, you picked up one of the dead soldiers' guns and ran after them.
“Kurtz! You son of a bitch!” You shot at him a few times and missed because he was so far away.
You almost caught up with him at the same time an alarm saying the building was about to be bombed went off. God damn it. You fired once more, and the bullet landed in the back of Kurtz's leg, causing him to fall to the ground. Happy with the fact he couldn’t go anywhere, you spun back to see the rest of your group coming up behind you.
“Go! Go! Go!” Warren called.
“Did you get him?” 10k asked.
“Yeah, he’s- gone!” Kurtz has vanished from where you left him.
Without much time to spare, you helped Doc into the elevator. 10k picked something up off the ground, “is this Murphy?”
Warren's face twisted in confusion, “it’s his skin. Murphy has actually shed his skin.”
When the doors opened, the four of you rushed to the car, and Warren sped off before the missile destroyed the lab.
—
After driving for a few hours, Warren stopped for a break to digest everything that had happened. She and Doc both sat on the hood of the truck. Thankfully, Doc survived being shot.
You looked at 10k, who was sitting beside you in the back seat, counting how many bullets the gun you had taken.
Within a day, you’d found out how humanity had gone to hell. Murphy had left you all to die, Cassandra had turned into a Z, and you’d almost been bombed to death. Despite it all, you were still thankful to whatever gods were listening that you still had 10k, Warren, and Doc with you.
You watched the delicate way 10k ran his fingers across the gun, taking in every detail about it before placing it by his feet.
“Tommy?”
10k looked up at you with wide eyes. “Yeah?” His eyes landed on the scar on your hand, and his thumb rubbed over it gently. “Does it hurt?”
“Not anymore,” you said quietly, before pressing your lips against his. “When this is all over, can I go somewhere cold with you?”
He stared at you blankly for a few seconds, then a wide smile appeared. “You’d come with me?”
You nodded, “I-I wouldn’t want to survive the apocalypse with anyone else. So if it’s okay with you, I’ll go too.”
10k tucked strands of hair behind your ear, “We can go wherever you want. I’d follow you anywhere, Astra.” He leaned in and kissed you again, but pulled away when Doc made a whistling noise. Smiling, he kissed you on the forehead and sat back, “We can decide where we are going once you see Addy again.”
#z nation#10k x reader#10k x you#z nation fanfiction#z nation fandom#10k#roberta warren#steven doc beck#alvin murphy#cassandra z nation#10k x oc#z nation warren#addy z nation#10k z nation#z nation rewrite#doc z nation#murphy z nation#10k/reader#10k/oc#10k/you#zombie apocalypse
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in which kuroo is your long time nemesis, but suddenly reveals his caring side...
a/n. yeah, i got inspired by the hating game... if you havent read it, and you're a hopeless romantic, you should.
warnings: vomiting and swearing.
my typing fingers come to a halt as the words on the screen swim, my eyes all of a sudden straining once more as my headache intensifies.
i really should have stayed home today.
but how could i, when i have this much shit to get done? not to mention i've not once seen him take a sick leave. every single day he enters this office, looking pristine, with an insult or a smart comment waiting on the tip of his tongue the second i put my guard down.
fucking prick.
i ignore his cold stare in my direction and take a sip from my water bottle, the liquid finding a narrow passage down the walls of my swollen oesophagus, the pain reaching me a moment later.
my eyes closing on their own accord, and my head still spinning, i rest it on my table, my cheek pressed up against the cold tempered glass, uncomfortable against my hot skin.
shit. i definitely have a fever.
"hey, you okay?" Lev Haiba asks me, his massive hand resting on the small of my back, "you look... unwell."
He's the new temp. Kuroo got him a job since he knew him from high school or something, and though I didn't trust him in the beginning, he's proved to be a sweetheart. unlike his childhood friend.
I squint my eyes open and look up at him, his usually joyful expression twisted into one of concern.
"Hey, Lev. I'm okay, just feeling a bit under the weather," I croak out. You could clearly hear just how sick i was from the sound of my voice, my unconvincing smile that looks more like a grimace, and the fact that i cannot actually lift my head off the cool table to properly face him.
"are... are you sure? i can bring you a cup of tea if you'd like?" he offers, knowing better than to offer to take me home.
"that would be nice, thanks Lev," i say, if only to get him to leave me alone so i can go back to dozing. my head spun whenever i had to speak.
My eyes shut on their own accord before his massive frame even begun to walk away, but I couldn’t bring myself to feel any remorse for how rude I was being.
One, two, three, up, I tell myself, lifting my head and opening my eyes, staring at the blank document in front of me.
I manage to get two sentences down by the time Lev comes back with my tea, and I thank him catching Kuroo’s eye from across my desk.
“You look like death,” he says, leaning back on his chair and looking at me with his golden eyes.
“Gee, thanks,” I reply, lazily blinking at my document. I want to go to bed.
My lack of reply clearly shook him, as suddenly his massive hand comes to press against my forehead.
“What are you doing?! Get off!” I screech, smacking his hand away from my face and flinching backwards.
“You have a temperature. Come on, I’ll drop you off home.” He says, his long legs crouched next to me, his 6’2 frame shortened significantly so that our faces are aligned.
“What are you talking about? I feel fine, and I’m not about to go anywhere in your car. Do you think I'm stupid?” Even as the lies leave my lips, my head throbs painfully, the burning of my swollen throat getting worse and worse. “Besides, I have a near perfect attendance score. I will not be jeopardising my future promotion over a stupid little headache.”
“That is not a stupid little headache, and you know it. You have a fever, and if you let it exceed 39, you’re going to have to go to the ER. So, close that empty doc, pack you bag and be ready at the elevator. I’ll go let management know that we’re leaving early.”
Before I could protest, he already got up and started striding towards the exit.
Putting my head in my hands, I let out a loud groan, earning a few glances my way, and stuff my crap into my bag, closing the dismal document and walking towards the elevator doors. He may be a jackass, but at least he has to taint his attendance record too.
Plus, he’s right about the fever, I think as I shiver in my coat.
It doesn’t take long for him to return, and when he does, he wordlessly takes my bag off my shoulder. I don’t have it in me to protest, and lean my sweating forehead onto the cool mirrored wall of the elevator, closing my eyes and struggling to breathe.
Before I know it, we’re in his black Merc, and I’m fighting with him silently to turn on the seat warmer.
“No,” he says as he presses the button right after I did, “that temperature has to go down, not up. Seriously, do you not know anything?”
I huff and turn the other way, acting like a child, which would be more embarrassing if that huff didn’t intensify my headache.
“Which way from here?” He asks. I gesture left, and the rest of the way to my apartment, until we arrive.
i make a point to ignore his perfect side profile, and how he effortlessly drives, his long legs spread out and his chair far further back than mine. i ignore how he runs his hand through his hair as he nervously checks up on me. i ignore it all.
we reach my apartment, and despite his impressive driving and his quiet engine, i feel the need to throw up.
“Keys?” I wordlessly hand them over, and let him guide me out of the car, my head spinning as I walk, feeling the familiar force of nausea hitting me harder than before. Shit.
He opens the front door and I bolt to my bathroom, hurling up the contents of my stomach, barely reaching the toilet in time. I distantly notice a large hand rubbing my back soothingly and my hair being held back, and I lean into the touch, my eyes closing once more as my headache intensifies. I would have stayed there, shivering and mouth reeking of vomit had Kuroo not picked me up gently, and laid me on my bed.
I open my eyes and immediately turn over and throw up, finding a bucket being held up to my chin.
I lay my head back onto my pillow and feel a large hand stroking my hair back from my forehead, and a damp towel being placed gently. The faint scent of aloe hits me, and the world goes dark once more.
The clock reads 12:30 am when I wake up again, this time soaked in sweat.
I feel a heavy weight next to me where my double usually lies empty, and find a man lying there.
I’m about to scream bloody murder when I realise its just Kuroo. He’s already staring at me, shuffling closer and muttering “its okay” as he rests my head back onto my pillow. The towel on my forehead is replaced before I fall back asleep.
I’m vomiting again. Kuroo’s large hand rubbing my back and his whispered “shh, its going to be okay” is comforting, somehow. The kind words of my enemy is sure to catch up to me when I’m better, but for now, its nice.
His other hand holds a bucket to my chin once more. “I’m so- I’m so disgusting,” I say in between heaves. Kuroo continues to hush me, and I fall asleep once more.
I jerk awake and scream when I see an unfamiliar woman in my bedroom. I scramble towards Kuroo, grabbing at him and ducking my head into his chest, squeezing my eyes shut as i wait for her to take out a knife and finish the job.
“Its okay, its okay, she’s my aunty. She’s a doctor, and was able to come by to check up on you.”
He says, his hand once again rubbing my back soothingly. I calm down and look at her from my sanctuary in Kuroo’s muscular arms.
“This is unnecessary,” I whisper, as she comes nearer and puts her hand on my head.
I stare into her pretty brown eyes framed with dark beautiful lashes, take in her dark brown hair and her short build.
“You’re so beautiful,” I say, cutting into the conversation they were having about my symptoms.
“Thank you, darling,” she says, with a laugh in her breath.
“not as beautiful as Kuroo,” I mutter, stroking his cheek slightly. I rest my head on his chest once more, before passing out. I feel the rumble of his blissful chuckle before the darkness takes me.
When I wake up for the last time, I’m star fishing on my bed, my leg and arm thrown over Kuroo’s muscular body and my face pressed up against the mattress. I notice that he’s fallen asleep, and watch his peaceful face like a total stalker.
His lashes create crescent moons on his cheekbones, his eyebrows dark and heavy on top of his narrow golden eyes that he’s hiding underneath his eyelids. His usually ridiculous bed head is only intensified as it looks like its been messed up because he ran his hand through it so many times.
I jerk in my spot as he opens his eyes and stares directly into my soul, before lurching upwards.
I do the same, and notice for the first time that I’m in nothing but a grey tank and my Micky mouse shorts.
He must have changed me. When I was asleep.
Oh my god. That means he’s seen my Donald Duck patterend bra and undies that I bought from Disneyland.
Fuck.
We pause, staring at each other with wide eyes, before I remember that i’m sick and therefore gross so I divert my gaze and abruptly get off the mattress, bolting to the bathroom, locking the door behind me.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” I whisper to myself, pacing in the bathroom. To be fair, my bra is still on, so i know he wasn't technically being a perve.
in the midst of my overthinging, i notice that I am totally recovered. He did a good job nursing me back to health, surprisingly. I would have had half the mind to poison him while ‘giving him medicine,’ but I guess… he cares more than he lets on.
Ew.
No. He must have some sort of ulterior motive. The idea of Kuroo caring… its simply too much.
I look into the mirror and feel instant regret. I never removed my makeup, and neither did Kuroo, apparently, since my mascara and eyeliner are smudged beyond recognition, giving me two panda eyes.
My eyes are bloodshot, drool dried around the corners of my mouth, and sweat clinging to every square inch of my body.
Yeah, its time for a long overdue shower, and perhaps a long overdue talk with my enemy, Kuroo Tetsuro.
#idek what this is#just#take it ig#kuroo tetsuro#haikyuu!!#kuroo x reader#kuroo x you#tetsuro x reader#kuroo fluff#kuroo tetsuro scenarios#kuroo au#kuroo drabble#kuroo imagine#haikyu x reader#haikyu x you#tw swearing#tw vomit
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Bucky Barnes - Salvation
long and kinda slow-burn :)
“Stay safe you,” Matt said as I walked out of the small bookshop.
“Always try.” I smiled back as I skipped down the steps.
I scanned over the books I’d bought on my short walk home, turning the first few pages and already sinking into the stories within. The streets were quiet, sun setting as I hurried home to avoid dark.
I finally stepped foot inside my apartment and immediately went around and turned on all the lamps. I detested the dark, an old habit I found hard to break, as I swiftly checked from room to room. I did this to make sure no one was inside, but in the back of my mind I only looked for one man. Books placed on the side, I was about to sit down when a heavy knock sounded from the door.
“Bloody hell,” I muttered as I walked over. I swung open the door.
Fuck.
Slamming it shut quickly my heart raced and face paled. I could throw up, or faint, and I considered doing both. How did he know where I lived? What was he planning on doing? I bargained that I’d never go to police, and I didn’t for that matter, so why is he here?
“Y/N?” The Winter Solider said through the door.
“I-I haven’t told anyone.” I said.
“That isn’t why I’m here.” His voice was softer than I remembered, he sounded...normal.
“P-Please just go.” I begged, hand still tightly holding the doorknob.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he promised. “I won’t even come into the apartment, I just need to say something.”
I peeped through the spy hole, making sure he was alone. He usually was, however, on one occasion he brought back up. That was the worst of times.
“Step away from the door.” I ordered, to which he readily complied and took two large steps back. I opened the door a crack, waiting for him to pounce. But he remained firmly planted in his spot.
Warily, I creaked the door open. He was dressed in black jeans, a navy top and a black leather jacket. His hair was cut short, his beard was growing out and he no longer donned the muzzle he used to in public. Gloves covered his hand. He looked completely normal.
“My name is James Buchanan Barnes, and I am no longer the Winter Solider,” he said. “Apologising to you is my way of making amends with my past.”
I furrowed my brows. “What?”
He gulped. “I...I did awful things to you, and I’m sorry.”
“Is this...is this a joke?” I asked, peeping my head out a little and looking down the hallway.
He shook his head. “I’m trying to be a better person, and apologising to you is part of that. I could also, do things for you?”
My eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
“No!” He said. “No, I meant like...jobs or, I dunno...anything.”
“I’m so confused.” I whined as I rubbed my eyes. “Are you going to kill me?”
He shook his head. “No.”
His eyes looked pleadingly at me. He was alone, he looked normal and I could feel the truth drip off his words. After a long pause, I sighed deeply.
“Do you want to come in?” I stepped aside.
“If that’s okay.” He stiffly smiled and walked past me.
I shut the door and watched him. He looked around the small space, standing in the hallway. I had photos lining the walls, all of friends and family, and he took care to look at some of them.
“You can take off your coat and gloves.” He nodded and shrugged of his jacket, however, chose to leave the gloves on.
“Nice place.” He complimented.
“Thanks,” I had no clue how to act around him. He followed behind me as I led him into the kitchen, turning to face him as he lingered in the doorway. “I was going to cook some dinner.”
He nodded. “Anything special?”
I shook my head. “You could...join, we could talk.”
“That would be...nice.” He smiled.
I cooked in near silence. James took a seat at the small table by the window and watched me as I mulled around the kitchen. Chicken in, salad made, I turned to face him.
“It’ll be about half an hour.” I said as I sat opposite him.
“You’re being very kind.” He said.
“So, what is this?” I gestured between us.
He leant back. “The US Government has pardoned me, and part of that agreement is that I have to go to therapy. My Doc came up with a plan to help me...move on from my past. I have to go around and make amends with the people I hurt, or helped, and that means you.”
I nodded. “How many have you done?” I asked.
“A few,” he said. “I was...I was putting off doing you.”
I frowned. “Why?”
His eyes cast over to me as he took a shaky breath. “I...hurt you. In life changing ways, even if you forgave me, I could never forgive myself.”
I pursed my lips for a moment and didn’t speak. His eyes looked down at his lap, a sad expression coming over his face.
“I hated you,” I whispered. “I always thought in my head that if I ever got the chance, I’d kill you. But then I spent a while researching you, your past. What they did to you, how they treated you, what they made you do. And I realised, it wasn’t really you who hurt me, it was them.”
He gazed at me through his lashes. “Y/N...”
“You have nothing to apologise for,” I smiled, reaching over and taking his hand. “Water under the bridge.”
His hands flexed, squeezing mine. “Water under the bridge.” He repeated.
The gloves were soft against my hands as I peered down at them. “Can I see?”
His face grew uneasy as he shifted in his seat. “Um...yeah, sure.”
He peeled the gloves of slowly, almost waiting to me to stop him. The metal had changed. Instead of the bright silver I was used to, it instead was sleek black with gold details. He rolled his sleeve up as high as it would go, the infamous star now gone. It suited him better, I thought, complimented him more.
“It looks nice,” I smiled. “Better than the old one.”
“Thank you.”
“Could I?” He gave me a nod as I ran my ran over the cool metal.
It was really a work of art. Oddly, this one didn’t scare me. The other had felt my skin, brought me to the edge of death so many times, but this one? This one had only gently squeezed me hands.
We both jumped as the oven beeped, giggling a little as I stood and plated up our meal. We ate quietly, James complimenting my cooking one too many times. The evening drew on and soon James was shrugging on his jacket and lingering by the door.
“Thank you,” he smiled. “Dinner was amazing.”
I laughed. “I’ll have to cook it again.”
His eyes glistened with happiness at the chance of us seeing each other again. “I’d like that.”
I opened the door for him. “It was nice seeing you, the real you.”
He nodded. “I meant it you know, need a boiler fixing, walls painted, I’ll do it.”
He quickly scribbled his number in a small notebook and ripped out the page and handed it to me. “I’ll keep that in mind,”
“Bye.”
“Bye.” He danced around me for a moment before enveloping me in a short, tight hug.
Weeks passed and I didn’t contact him. I thought I’d be a painful reminder of his past and thus didn’t want to keep contact with him. That was, until my sink burst and my landlord claimed it wasn’t his responsibility. I’d tried hard to fix it myself, and the local plumbers charged ridiculous rates, so I found myself texting James.
To James B -
Hi! Sorry I haven’t contacted you before, been very busy! Could I pick up the favour you owe me? My sink has burst and I’m in desperate need of a plumber. - Y/N
I didn’t expect a reply, but he text back before I’d even put my phone back on the table.
From James B -
Hey! No worries. Heading over now.
I scrambled to tidy the apartment, dreading to confess I in fact lived like a pig most days. After a frantic half an hour, a knock sounded from the door.
“You’re a life saver,” I sighed as I opened the door.
James offered a lopsided smile, shrugging his shoulders. “No worries,”
“It burst two days ago, I had a go myself but I think I made it worse.” James set his bag of tools on the counter and opened the cupboard under the sink.
“Oh yeah, I see what’s wrong,” he silently set to work, laying on his back and doing god-knows-what.
After a while I went into the living room and read my book, curling my legs underneath me and settling down. James banged about the kitchen and a swear word or two later, he popped his head around the door.
“Done.”
“So soon?” I quickly stood and bounced into the kitchen. I turned the tap and stepped back, expecting water to drown my feet, but instead it simply swirled down the drain. “It lives!”
James chuckled at my remark. “A few bolts came loose and disconnected, easy stuff really,”
“Thank you James.”
“Bucky,” he quickly said. “Call me Bucky.”
“Thank you, Bucky.” I smiled. “Want to stay for lunch?”
“Yeah,”
We chatted mindlessly as we made sandwiches, Bucky telling me about his childhood. When he was the Winter Soldier I only heard gruff orders, but he had a voice that sounded smooth and sweet. His eyes lit up when he spoke of his siblings and parents, of a life that felt like thousands of years ago.
“You got a boyfriend?” Bucky asked, fiddling with the label on his beer.
I cocked a brow. “No, you?”
“No.” Bucky said. “I’ve tried these dating websites but...feel out of my depth.”
I nodded in understanding. “I abandoned those long ago,”
“I’m glad you text me.” He said. “I’ve spent the last few weeks wondering if you would.”
“Truthfully, I thought you wouldn’t want to speak to me.” I confessed.
“Why would you think that?” He frowned.
“I’m a reminder of your past,” I explained. “I can understand that even looking at me must be hard for you.”
Bucky paused for a moment and scanned over my face. “I see you as my salvation, not my damnation.”
I smiled. “I don’t think I said it before,” I shuffled a little closer. “But I forgive you, Bucky.”
His breath hitched, arm dropping to rest behind my head. “Say it again.” He whispered.
“I forgive you.”
Our bodies were close, Bucky resting his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes and waited for him to make a move, but they fluttered back open when I felt the moment slipping.
“I don’t want to push it,” he confessed.
“You aren’t.” I promised.
“I did bad things to you,” his hand stroked over my cheek.
“Then do something good.”
His lips pressed to mine. They were soft, softer than I’d thought, and he went slow and easy. I sighed into the kiss and pressed my body flush against his, my hands planting on his chest. His hand on the back of the couch slid off and looped behind me back, pressing me further into his as the other hand slid into my hair and held me close.
“Please,” he mumbled against me.
“Yes.”
Bucky eased me back into the sofa, lips still pressed tightly to mine as he eased between my splayed thighs. My hands moved up to fist his short hair, causing a quiet groan to escape his lips. Bucky’s hands held onto my hips as he gently, almost teasingly, ground his crotch to mine.
“Lemme make it better,” he whispered, trailing kisses down my cheek and neck.
“You can do anything,” I breathlessly promised, rolling my body up.
His hand slid down my stomach and into the back of my loose trousers, cupping my clothed pussy and flexing his fingers. I gasped and threw my head back, Bucky surfacing to peer down at me with hooded eyes.
“There?” I nodded at his question.
His fingers eased my underwear to the side and felt over the slickness he’d created. The cool metal of his hand ran over my burning cheeks and I thanked god for the relief of coldness in this moment. My eyes widened as his finger tips circled my swollen bud.
“So wet,” he murmured, gazing into my eyes.
“For you.” I whimpered back, cupping his cheeks.
“Me?” I nodded. “Good girl,”
I moaned again at his words, his fingers picking up their pace. My back arched as he eased two fingers into me, stretching me out. He groaned a little, muttering something about my tightness, before pressing his lips to mine.
“O-Other hand,” I said against his lips.
“What?” He pulled back, stopping his movements.
“Can you u-use your other hand?” I pouted my lips.
“Are you sure?” He furrowed his brows.
I nodded. Bucky removed his hand from my underwear, offering his glistening fingers to my lips. I hastily took them in my mouth, small hand wrapping around his wrist as I sucked. He momentarily closed his eyes, losing himself for a second before easing his metal hand between our bodies.
“Really?” He questioned again, playing with the waistband of my trousers.
I bucked my hips. “Please,”
I couldn’t help the loud moan that left my mouth as his metal fingers resumed his flesh fingers task. They rubbed tightly into my clit, causing my eyes to pinch shut and my jaw to slacken and drop.
“Such a good girl for me,” he cooed against my cheek.
I whimpered again. “I-I’m-“
“Gonna cum baby?” He asked, fingers increasing their speed.
I nodded and cried. “Yes!”
“Like feeling my metal hand, huh?” He teased with a smirk.
“I do! Yes!” My nails bit into the skin of his forearm, the other hand running over the smooth metal of his shoulder. “Oh Bucky!”
“Cum,” he shortly ordered. “Please baby, please cum.”
My head threw back and I saw stars. My back arched as Bucky wrapped and arm under me and held me close. He moaned softly into my neck, grounding his crotch against my thigh. My arms loops around his neck as I shuddered against him.
“S-Stop,” I begged, gently coaxing his hand from my underwear.
“Sorry baby.” He sighed into my neck.
We stayed tangled in each other for a moment before I reached a teasing hand down between us. Bucky quickly stopped me, sheepishly grinning down at me.
“I already...just then...” he blushed.
“Really?” I giggled.
“You have no idea how good you looked.” He whispered, pecking my lips.
I smiled warmly, stroking over his cheek. “Would you like to grab a coffee with me?”
He laughed loudly. “I’ll do more than that.”
#bucky#barnes#bucky barnes#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes smut#james buchanan bucky barnes#bucky x reader#sebastian#stan#sebastian stan#sebastian stan fluff#sebastian stan angst#sebastian stan smut#marvel#marvel smut
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Longing (part 8)
Warnings: angst, mentions of death, nightmares
Pairing: Ellie Williams x reader
“(Y/n)?”
“(Y/n) can you hear me?”
“Please wake up! I can’t lose you too!”
“Her pulse is weak.”
You heard voices but it sounded like you were underwater, you couldn’t open your eyes. Everything seemed so heavy.
“Come on (y/n) please!” Ellie screamed, sobbing.
Holding your head in her lap, brushing hair out of your face. She didn’t know what to do, Joel is dead and you seemed close to death as well. She couldn’t lose you too. Ellie felt overwhelmed by everything, having witnessed the murder of Joel and now you wouldn’t wake up. After the man smashed your head against the wall and the way you fell down she wasn’t sure if you’d wake up at all.
Poor Tommy had to wake up to see his brother laying dead on the floor and now he had to collect his body off the floor to bring him back home, so he could be buried. Ellie watched how Tommy and Jesse carried Joel away, feeling tears running down her face she looked back down at you.
“Ellie?” You whispered weakly, trying to open your eyes.
“I’m here (y/n).” Ellie said, relieved that you woke up.
“I’m sorry, Ellie.” You said, letting a tear fall.
“It’s my faul-.” You said, closing your eyes, feeling lightheaded again.
“No (y/n), hey! Don’t close your eyes!” She begged you, touching your face.
“Ellie come on, we gotta go.” Jesse said, coming up in front of you to take you.
“She woke up but I think she’s unconscious again.” Ellie said, wiping her tears away.
“Come on, I got her.” Jesse said, moving down he grabbed you from her arms, carrying you to your horse.
Ellie stood back for a second, looking at the ground where Joel was laying just a few minutes ago, in his own pool of blood. Ellie couldn’t bare this pain, she started sobbing quietly.
“I’m sorry Joel.” Ellie whispered, before leaving the room.
Jesse put you on top of your horse, letting your form slump over slightly. The back of your head was bleeding and you seemed to have gotten a few punches in your face as well. Jesse felt bad that he hasn’t gotten there earlier, he has never seen you this way before.
Ellie came out of the room, seeing your unconscious form on your horse and Joel’s dead body on his horse. Not being able to look at Joel any longer, she went over to Shimmer.
No one said anything, Jesse got on top of his horse, grabbing the reins of Helios he started guiding your horse back. Tommy did the same with Joel’s horse. Ellie and Dina right behind them. Dina kept glancing at Ellie and you in concern, not knowing if she should say anything or if she should stay quiet.
Waking up again, you were on your horse. Looking beside you, you saw Joel’s dead body on his horse, Tommy guiding his horse back home. You could feel tears in your eyes at the sight of Joel. You couldn’t just go back home and let his killers go. Suddenly sitting up on your horse, your head started spinning but you kept yourself up. “I have to-“
“Whoa (y/n), take it easy.” Jesse said, halting his horse. Everyone else looked over to you.
“(Y/n)!” Ellie called out, getting off her horse she walked towards you.
“I have to go back.” You said, looking around, your friends looking at you in concern.
“I have to- I have.”
“Kid don’t make it harder than it already is, we’re going home.” Tommy said.
“I- we can’t just let them go!” You said, looking around bewildered.
“They’re not getting away with this but we have to go home first.” Ellie said, she was barely holding herself together but she had to stay strong.
“I-“ “you have a concussion (y/n), you can’t just go after them now.” Jesse said.
Nodding your head you looked down. Ellie looked at you one last time before getting back on top of shimmer.
Arriving back home in Jackson, Maria and the guards rushed over to Tommy, gasping at the sight of Joel’s dead body. You couldn’t stay, you would start crying again. Getting off your horse, you almost collapsed if it wasn’t for Jesse holding you up.
“Come on, let’s get you to the infirmary.” He said.
Looking back at Joel one last time, you started walking away.
“Alright, you definitely have a concussion. You need to rest as much as possible, your head is gonna hurt for a while. I’ll give you some pain killers but like I already said, you need to rest!” The doctor ordered but you weren’t even listening, you were just thinking about Joel.
Jesse stood back, leaning against the wall, he looked at you in concern. He noticed you weren’t listening to what the doctor said.
“Alright thank you doc, I’ll bring her home now.” Jesse said, walking towards you.
The doctor nodded his head, giving Jesse the pain killers. “You make sure that she rests, young man.” He said.
“I will.” He said “come on (y/n).”
Ellie waited for you in front of your house already, you didn’t want to see her right now. You couldn’t look at her not when you felt like it was your fault that Joel died.
“Hey I got it from here, Jesse.” Ellie said, coming up next you.
“Alright, here some painkillers.” He said, giving the bottle of pills to Ellie. “She needs to rest.”
Ellie nodded looking at you she noticed you were avoiding her eyes.
“Bye guys.” Jesse said, before leaving.
Opening your door you went inside, shutting the door and locking it, Ellie took of her jacket and helped you out of yours.
“You can go home, Ellie.” You said, your voice still weak.
“I’m not leaving you and I- I don’t want to be alone right now.” Ellie said.
“You shouldn’t be with me.” You said, feeling yourself tear up again, you sat down on your bed.
“I want to be with you.” She said, sitting down next to you.
Sighing you looked down, nodding. You knew that she would hate you if she found out that you saved Abby but you wanted to be with her one last time before she would shut you out forever.
“I’m so sorry Ellie.” You said, looking at her you noticed she had bruises too. You didn’t even notice them earlier when you were avoiding looking at her face. Touching her cheek, you ran your thumb over the bruise on her face. Closing her eyes, she started crying silently. “Come here.” You said, pulling her into you. She immediately latched on to you, hugging you tightly, she started sobbing.
You held her, crying with her. You didn’t even know what you were feeling in this moment. You felt every emotion but you also felt numb. You felt like you were missing a big piece, one that could never be replaced.
Laying down with Ellie, you held her in your arms, with her head on your chest. She was still crying, you were running your fingers through her hair.
After a while she fell asleep, you still held her tightly not wanting to let her go. Single tears escaped your eyes, looking up at the ceiling, you knew that this was probably the last time you would hold her. Your little romance seemed to be short lived, she would go back to hating you once she finds out what you did.
You didn’t sleep at all that night, you spent the night thinking about Joel, holding Ellie in your arms you knew you wouldn’t see her for a while and you didn’t even know if you’d come back alive. You wanted to spent the rest of your few hours in Jackson with her, even if she was asleep.
Looking at her, you allowed yourself to admire her for a while. Ellie lost him, she lost the man who was like a father to her, you’d have to stay strong for her. You knew what you had to do. You promised yourself that you would go after them, you’d kill everyone of them and leave Abby for last. She was going to suffer the way she made Ellie and you suffer.
Getting up from under her, you made sure you didn’t wake her up. Getting out of bed, you walked over to your backpack, putting some stuff in that you would need, you grabbed your gun holster putting it on your leg, getting your jacket on, you stuffed your swords into your backpack and grabbed a few water bottles.
You went over to Ellie, looking at her one last time, brushing some hair out of her face, you leaned in kissing her forehead before you turned around, you wrote a quick letter to Ellie and left.
Walking past Joel’s house, you looked at his porch. Thinking about how just a few days ago you were sitting there with him, drinking coffee and talking not knowing that it was the last time.
Breaking into the armory was not something you thought you’d ever have to do but you didn’t have the keys and you needed more guns if you wanted to go after the group. Ellie told you they were from Seattle, you didn’t even pick up on that but Abby had a patch on her sleeve that said W.L.F, they were probably something like the fireflies and you hated the fireflies.
After you grabbed some more weapons you went over to the stables, getting your horse out, you knew an older man named Darren was on guard duty today and he had the tendency to fall asleep, usually you would get angry at him for falling asleep while he had to look out for any danger coming close to Jackson but today you were relieved. This would make your escape easier.
Walking over to the gate, you opened it just enough so you and Helios could fit through it. After you got out, you shut the gate again. Getting on top of Helios you kicked your heels against him, making him speed off into the woods.
The next few days would be difficult for you. The concussion was definitely going to be a problem. You felt tired and a little lightheaded. The guy that smashed your head against the wall did a good job at making sure that you stayed down, you were looking forward to seeing him again.
You were riding for hours now, it must’ve been around noon now. You were thinking about Ellie, she must’ve been up by now. You knew as soon as she would find your letter she would run to Tommy and Maria begging them to let her go after you or join you, you knew she wanted the wlf’s dead as much as you did.
Ellie woke up to an empty bed, she didn’t think anything of it at first, thinking you were in the bathroom or something until she saw a piece of paper with her name written on it laying on the bedside table. Taking it in her hand, she turned it around, reading it slowly. Eyes widening at the mention of you going after the W.L.F’s.
“Shit.” Getting up from the bed, she quickly put on her shoes, grabbing her coat she left your place. Running over to Maria’s house, she saw her and Tommy walking out of their house.
“Maria! Tommy!” Ellie called out, running towards them, almost crashing in to them.
“Hey Ellie, slow down.” Maria said, putting her hands on Ellie’s shoulders.
“It’s (y/n)!” She said, out of breath.
“What’s wrong with (y/n)? She okay?” Tommy asked, looking at her in concern.
“Yes I- no.. I don’t know. She’s gone.” She said. “She went after them.” Giving them the letter. Maria and Tommy glanced at each other before taking the letter to read it.
“Maria!” A man yelled, running towards them.
“Someone broke into the armory, a few weapons are missing and a horse is gone.” The man said, trying to catch his breath.
Tommy ran a hand down his face. “We’ll deal with it right away, Rafe.” Maria said.
“But-“ “I said we’ll deal with it.” She repeated sternly.
Nodding his head, the man left.
“That was (y/n).” Ellie said.
“We know.” Tommy said.
“I’m going after her.” Ellie said, looking at them.
“Like hell you will.” Maria argued “go home Ellie.”
Ellie looked at Tommy. He must be considering going after them as well, they killed his brother after all. He looked down at her “we’ll talk about it once we buried Joel, Ellie.” He said. “Until then just stay put, (y/n) is a tough kid, nothing will happen to her out there. We’ll catch up to her before she arrives in Seattle alright?”
Nodding her head, Ellie turned around going home. She’d stay for Joel’s funeral but after that she would go after you and Joel’s killers.
It was getting dark out, you’d have to set up camp soon. You wondered if they buried Joel already. You wanted to be there but you felt like you didn’t deserve being a part of his funeral not when you were the one who saved his killer.
How ironic, saving her lead to Joel being killed. You wished you could turn back time, you would have never helped her, you would let the infected kill her but it was too late and Joel was dead because of you.
You were riding through a small town, looking for a place to set up camp. The streets were empty and quiet, no signs of infected. A small house with an open garage catched your eye. Getting off Helios, you led him towards it. Leaving him there you went inside to check out the house, making sure that no infected were inside. After you secured the place you went back into the garage and closed the gate.
“Alright helios, looks like we’ll stay here for the night.” You said, patting him.
Going back inside you left the door to the garage open, sitting down on the couch in the living room, you put your head in your hands. Your mind was racing, all sorts of thoughts plaguing your head. Laying back down, you looked up at the ceiling, trying to fall asleep. You needed some rest, especially if you planned on going after a whole group and who knew how much more people they had back at their base. Closing your eyes, you started falling asleep slowly.
“I was wrong about you (y/n).” You recognized this voice but you didn’t know where it was coming from.
“You made it far but at what cost?” Turning around you still couldn’t see him.
“You lost the only person that cared about you because of your mistake.” Walking through the hallway, you opened a door to see if he was in there.
“I always told you, you can’t defend yourself. I was wrong. You keep getting out of bad situations without an issue but it seems like protecting yourself isn’t very important to you anyways not as much protecting others is and yet you failed. You failed him.” The voice was getting closer now you turned around to see him standing there. Your father.
“You killed your own father and now you killed the man you came to see as a father.” He said, chuckling.
“I didn’t kill you.”
“No you just left me to die, same thing.” He said, shrugging.
“What do you want from me?!” You yelled at him, feeling tears build up in your eyes.
“I want you to understand what you are.”
“What I am?”
“You’re a monster, everywhere you go people die.”
“No.” You whispered, shaking your head.
“Your mother.”
“No, stop.”
“Me.”
“You did it yourself.”
“The man you killed.”
“He deserved it, he was bad.”
“Joel.” Your father said, coming closer to you.
“Don’t say his name!” You screamed at him, pushing him away but he was gone suddenly.
“What the-“ turning around you saw someone else standing there. Eyes widening at him standing there.
“Joel?” You whispered, a tear slipping down your face. He was bleeding, blood running down his face from the open wound on his head.
“It’s your fault.” He said, angrily, walking towards you.
“Joel.” You sobbed, walking backwards.
“All of it! You killed me and you’re gonna kill Ellie as well!” He screamed at you
“No please stop!” You begged, crying.
He pulled out a gun pointing it at you, pulling the trigger.
“NO!” You screamed out, gasping for air. You sat up on the couch. Looking around the room, breathing heavily, you realized it was just a nightmare.
“Fuck.” You whispered, clutching your chest, trying to calm down. You noticed tears were streaming down your face.
You already thought that it was your fault that Joel died, hearing him say it himself put you into even more pain, even though you knew that it was just a nightmare.
Could you ever forgive yourself?
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Irrevocably Yours
Request: hey! can i request a scenario of jungkook being a rich kid who has ome of his legs is leg failure , basically can't walk without a cane , And he falls in love with a normal girl , and they end up running away , happy ending plz , also if u can , LIT IT Up with smut ' thank u ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
A/N: So. This request was sent to me a long ass time ago. I mean a LONG time ago, and I spent so much time working on it...it became too long. So I broke it up in half. Just to see if anyone actually becomes interested in how this ends. Just to see if anyone still reads anything I write. So if you end up enjoying this, please let me know and I’ll post the last of this. I have so many things buried inside my google docs that need to be set free from hibernation.
Also, I’m sorry if this isn’t any good. I’ve rewritten this a thousand times trying to fix it, and I’ve done all I can for now. I hope someone out there enjoyed this craziness. And to the original person who asked for this, if you ever see this, I’m sorry it took so long. P.s. I also took creative liberties and changed it up a little. Much love, Jenn
Jungkook x Reader
Word count: 13,756 (yeah I know, it was longer before I halved it. Sorry!)
Genre: fluffy/Smutty(later)/First Love drama sorts mess
A part of you would always remember the first day you’d met Jeon Jungkook. His presence standing in the doorway to the classroom held every single one of your classmate's attention along with yours. Jungkook silently demanded to be noticed, even though in a way he wanted no one to notice him at all. The classroom felt louder than usual, or maybe that was just how you recalled it. Maybe it's what caused the ringing in your ears when the room was swallowed up in silence. The sound of his cane hitting the stained linoleum; ticking like a time bomb with every step.
At first you couldn't see why he necessarily needed it. Jungkook was a master of hiding things. Even pain. It wasn’t until he’d reached the teachers desk, his hip moving to rest against it to ease the extra strain off his good leg, that the stories of his accident became true. Not one of you were willing to look too long at the challenge in his face. Defiance turning his soft features bitter as he glanced out across the room. Jungkook wanted to appear strong; to dare anyone to mutter even a word that he wasn’t. That he wasn’t the same person he was before the accident.
He must have been able to fool your home room teacher into forgetting. His eagerness to introduce Jungkook only caused him to accidentally come too close to his legs in passing. The teachers’ waist moved and harmlessly bump against Jungkook’s bad leg. A small movement that was enough to change Jungkook’s entire demeanor for just a second.
The whole room collectively took a breath; waiting for him to scream out in pain. To turn savage and yell or curse at the stupidity of the teacher. Jungkook did none of it. He continued to look out into the room with his chin held high.
You could see, however, through the crinkle by his eyes and how heavily he now leaned on his cane that it’s caused him a great deal of pain. A brief moment in showing what he tried to hide and if you weren’t staring so hard at him, you were sure you would’ve missed it.
An infamous legend among other schools as his face showed up on Sports articles that featured proud features of parents beaming excitedly at cameras. Taekwondo and track metal’s around his neck by the dozens. Grades to match the intensity of his athletic drive with a rumor that if he tried something for the first time, Jungkook would still be phenomenal at whatever it was.
Even without ever actually meeting him - everyone in that classroom knew who he was. Jeon Jungkook was a hard man not to hear about.
In the beginning of the year there’d been a different headline for him, however. He’d been the passenger in a friend's car that was struck by a drunk driver. The ferocity of the impact leaving the car looking like a bow. Jungkook lost a friend that night, and part of the mobility in his left leg. The driver himself died instantly and you weren't sure if that was justice enough for the two boys who’d lost so much in a matter of three seconds.
And with so much, yet so little known about him you found yourself unable to join the others in measuring up the boy in front of you.
Jungkook was taller than you thought he would be, or maybe you’d silently been hoping the universe wouldn’t be so cruel to give someone talent and every single attractive feature known to man. He’d been played up like he was a god among the rest of you feeble mortals. You figure’d girls were overacting, I mean it happens. Imagining after listening to all their swooning, you’d somehow shockingly find out he was nothing more than your average - ordinary - boy.
Jungkook was anything but ordinary.
His lean frame still retained years of training that wasn't so easily hidden, even under the layers of the school uniform. You could see the care he still placed on his outward appearance. The rising star who was still handsome, even underneath all his brooding. His school uniform strained against tight muscles in his arms and, worse, was his legs. Your cheeks heating into an embarrassed blush as his eyes landed on what seemed like your desk. It was silly to think he’d caught you gawking. Everyone was gawking at him, but even a millisecond of his gaze made your cheeks light up with embarrassment at the idea of being caught.
There was gossip of him not wanting to go back to his old school; his old life. You didn't really blame him. Why be stuck in a place where there were millions of memories of a time you had with a close friend? Of having the ability to walk down the halls without everyone looking at you like you were damaged goods.
“Everyone pay attention!” Mr. Choi shouted.
It all seemed unnecessary. Your attention was already on him whether he wanted it or not.
“I’d like to welcome our transfer student, Jeon Jungkook. I expect you all to be on your best behavior.”
“I don't need you to defend me,” he snapped.
He started moving his way down the aisle towards the only empty seat in the room: the one next to you.
You quickly turned away from him and started cleaning up your space. Jungkook got to the desk faster than you thought and dropped his backpack down on top of the desk. His long body slumped down into the seat, placing his cane next to the window seal.
“We’re going to continue with our previous lecture from yesterday. You can share with Y/N until you get your own books.”
You flipped to chapter eighteen with your many notes scattered inside. Your eyes giving him a sidelong glance before sliding the book neatly between the desks. Jungkook didn't bother to look at the pages: his gaze was locked elsewhere. Somewhere outside the window with the freedom far beyond the gates of the school.
The enter class you’d spun a hundred different sentences in your mind. Each one playing out in your head as pure idiotic or unnecessary. You just couldn’t shake the feeling that it felt wrong letting him sit there like no one cares. To be a part of the prying gazes of the class; to know his name and him not knowing yours in return. You weren't sure why you gave a shit so much, anyways, but you did.
At the sound of the bell he was the first one to hop back onto his feet. His hand instinctively taking hold of the cane to keep him propped up as he moved to situate his backpack over his shoulders. You’d followed close behind him and gathered up your things.
You didn't see him again until fifth period. His brooding presence in the back of the class hung like a dark cloud you couldn't shake. You knew you weren't necessarily the most cheerful person in the room, but even Jungkook’s sour puss attitude was making you want to throw glitter at him.
He didn't acknowledge you when you came to your usual seat at the window, and it didn't bother you. No one usually acknowledged you anyways. What did bother you was that he was sitting in your window seat. Statistics was by far your least favorite subject this year, and the one thing that kept you sane was that window seat.
“That's my spot.”
Your voice didn't hold any hint of malice. It was just definitive: you wanted your seat. Jungkook didn't look at you straight away. His eyes still daydreaming through the window and the world beyond. When he did finally look at you, you were sure the annoyance in his face was meant to send you packing. Too bad for him you’d seen worse.
“Is that look supposed to scare me? It doesn't change the fact you're in my spot.”
“I don't see your name on it.”
Your laughter turned to a scoff; cut short by your disbelief.
“What are we in middle school? If you want to get technical, it was assigned by the teacher aka my name is theoretically on that seat. So -”
You acted like he was a pet you could shoo off your bed. The hand motion earning you his brow to raise in return.
“You’d really make a cripple get up?”
“Is that what we’re calling you? A cripple? Because it looks to me like you’re still capable of doing things, oh say, a paraplegic can't.”
The anger rolled through him suddenly like storm clouds. All the possibilities of playful mischief disappeared as he regarded you with so much hate, it was as if he’d struck you.
“Oh, really? I didn't realize that they were giving away M.D titles in high schools now.”
Your mouth opened to - to what? Apologize? The sensitive part of you told you that you should. His accident hadn't been a full year yet, and here you were badgering him. Yet, you knew if you continuously babied him like everyone else it was only going to do more harm than good. Your next choice of words were cut short when your teacher walked in and asked why you were still standing.
“He’s in my spot.”
God, now who sounded like they were in middle school? Your teacher seemed to draw a blank. His gaze moving from you to Jungkook then back to you.
“Just sit down, Y/N.”
You did so with a huff. Your arms pulling your backpack you’d sat down on the desk closer to you like a pillow. Just so you could rest your chin on top of it and tried to ignore the smirk that was now on Jungkook’s face.
After you’d gone to your next class you couldn't stop thinking about your exchange. It turned your mood sour the rest of the day, and you couldn't understand why. A part of you wondering if it was because of your choice of words or the defeat that shown all too bright in his doe eyes.
The end of the day couldn't have come fast enough. You just wanted to get home and out of your uniform and maybe get a chance to go take some photos before your parents got home. You were too preoccupied with thoughts of where you wanted to go, and what coffee shop you wanted to stop at, when you collided into the back of someone else. A loud curse followed suit of the sound of a cane dropping on pavement making your eyes shut tight and your throat constrict around a groan.
“Jesus, can't you watch where you’re goi- oh, it's you. Enjoy attacking cripples, do we?”
You opened your eyes to see a less than amused smile on his face. He acted more like a judge at your hearing and whatever sentencing he was giving out, it wasn’t in your favor.
“I’m sorry I wasn't paying attention.”
You moved to pick up his cane for him when his hand angrily swatted yours away making you jump back a step.
“I don't need your charity. I can do it myself!”
“No one said you couldn’t! I was only trying to be nice.”
“Yeah, well, go and be nice somewhere else.”
He situated his weight on his good leg and bent at the knee low enough for his hand to reach out and grab his second form of support. The movement so graceful that it left you stunned, but not as much as his words did.
“You know, just because something bad happened to you, it doesn't give you the right to be an asshole. You aren't the only person to lose someone or something important. Get over yourself.”
With your hands latched underneath the straps of your backpack you stomped around him. Not caring that you left him standing stone still. His mouth slightly agape as he watched you take your exit.
During your walk home, somehow, Jungkook plagued your thoughts. Your mind unable to comprehend why you were still thinking about him. It was the first time you’d met, and yet, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. If you were being honest with yourself you knew from replaying the last thing you said to him.The look on his face saying plainly that you were an asshole.
Everyone’s pain mattered. Grief and loss wasn’t measured by anyone else’s pain but the person who experienced it, and to diminish it in any way was unfair. Regret was building inside your chest and it was all you could do to keep your feet from sprinting back in his direction.
When you got home you went directly to your room, throwing your bag on the bed, and sulked to your desk. You had more pressing matters to attend to than a boys’ possible hurt feelings. No matter how many times you tried, however, you weren’t able to write out theories on government history or explain anatomical questions.
The only thing your brain appeared to focus on was how to apologize.
You thought about Jungkook while you showered and brushed your teeth. You thought of him when you laid in bed and struggled to find a way to sleep. Your mind playing out the million different possibilities of how your apology would be taken from him. You didn't necessarily understand what it felt like to have your dreams stolen from you. To be forced to cope with a new life you hadn’t asked for and the emptiness of losing someone you loved all in one go.
If the tables were turned and it was you, wouldn’t you feel equally as bitter?
The following morning in between toaster cooked waffles and fixing your uniform in the mirror, you’d resigned to apologizing to him. No matter how much thinking of it made your teeth grind and a growl rise in your chest at the thought. You imagined him sneering and replying with smart remarks and it caused your mind to waver, but you were better than the pettiness swelling in your chest. You were okay with knowing his prickled exterior came from something you couldn't ever understand.
You made sure all the time you had while you walked to school was used up by mumbling the speech you’d made up the night before. At crosswalks practicing the best stance that didn't appear threatening, was friendly, but wouldn't be misconstrued as flirting.
That was by far the last thing you wanted to happen in his eyes. Sure, Jungkook was undeniably attractive...as much as you would've loved to laugh sarcastically in his perfectly sculpted face that his obviously very masculine features did nothing to make you weak in the knees. That you hadn’t noticed when his elbows, still clad in his jacket, moved to rest on the desk it’d caused his biceps and shoulders to equally fight for whatever was left of the fabric. Or that small scar on his cheek caught your attention when he became annoyed; his tongue poking out at the side of his jaw.
No, you hadn't been paying an embarrassing amount of attention to him at all (or at the ridiculous outline of his thigh muscles in his school uniform) with every step he took.
So, since you hadn't personally taken notice of any of physically appealing traits, why would you flirt? You were well aware of the vast difference of not only your social scale, but also of your class ranking, and looks overall. You were lightyears away from ever being able to consider being more than a female acquaintance he happened to get stuck next to at school. He wasn't the first boy who was out of your league, and Jungkook wouldn't be the last. Why it bothered you so much was a child's thought you refused to entertain.
When you finally got to school you hurried up the steps and briskly made your way down the hall. Not stopping even after Jenny cursed after you for nudging her as you went by. As soon as you swung open the door for homeroom, your eyes landed on Jungkook’s position. His cane leaning against the desk, hands tucked inside the pockets of his uniform slacks as he leaned back against the chair.
His gaze was focused somewhere outside the window, completely blank and motionless, and you wondered if he could've been having a thought at all. He was close to being marked as unreal in your book when he blinked and turned his gaze towards you.
You hadn't realized you’d been staring until that moment. Your gaze dropping to the worn linoleum as you briskly made your way down to your desk. A mumbled, “Good morning,” falling like a bad habit from your lips while you came around the side to slid into the desk chair. Nervous hands clutching tightly to your bag as you stared straight ahead, unwilling to glance in his direction.
Somewhere between cursing your awkwardness and staring out the window like an escape hatch your teacher started the lecture. None of it to which you were paying attention too, which was probably why you heard him call your name. You jerked in your seat as he yelled it a second time. Your eyes no doubt wide from giggles that sounded around the room.
“Y/N, since you're listening, you can go ahead and answer number forty-seven in the workbook.”
Panic sent your eyes wide as you stared back at his expectant face: waiting for you to fail. You hadn't even taken your book out since you’d sat down, finally moving to do so, when you felt a light tap against your bag. It was enough to jerk your gaze away from the teacher and down to a completed book of all the problems done by Jungkook.
He cleared his throat and tucked his hands back inside the pockets of his trousers easily not understanding the severity of how his actions had left you wide-eyed in surprise. You were still taking too long, causing your teacher to prompt you with a grunt and Jungkook to casually reach out and tap the answer again. Your eyes trailing over the written answer before standing up and clearing your throat. The answer rolling off your tongue as easy as breathing; as if you didn't just steal it from a notebook.
You made a silent prayer the teacher didn't notice the sweat threatening to break at your temple. The nervous ticking of your feet tilting from spot to spot. A rush of relief escaping your lips when his response to your answer was to continue class.
You took your seat next to Jungkook; unable to acknowledge him just yet for saving you from whatever punishment your teacher would've no doubt thought of. The realization that Jungkook himself was the reason for your lack of concentration making your cheeks flush an embarrassing pink making your arms wrap protectively around your backpack.
You’d never even brought out your textbook. Never dropped your bag from your desk and no doubt Mr. Choi knew you were given the answer. You buried your mouth against the coarse nylon in a weak attempt to stifle your embarrassment.
“Thank you.”
Your eyes caught the soft tilt of his brow as it rose at the muffled words. You could make out his left shoulder leaning him down towards your huddled position, making your hands involuntarily tighten into your backpack.
“What was that?”
The husky whisper of his words weren't anything you’d heard before, and they resonated up your spine to leave you staring starry-eyed.
“Th-thank you. For giving me the answer.”
He didn't respond. His gaze fixed solely on your face until you forcibly struggled to keep from fidgeting under its weight. After what felt like a small eternity, Jungkook nodded his head and faced forward. The sudden ghost of the death of your conversation causing you to blink at his profile.
The rest of the class was spent with your focus lacking on taking notes. How could you focus with his presence commanding your attention? A small army of ants creeping along your nerves demanding to acknowledge him. It was so strong, when the bell rang you jumped up from your seat to try and escape into the freedom of the school’s hallway, only to end up with your knee connecting straight into the hardwood of the desk. Jungkook’s snort at your misfortune was enough to remind you how much of an arrogant pain in the ass he could be.
“Wow - good job doofus.”
Your head snapped back in his direction; tongue rolling in your cheek as he hopped up from his seat. A hand snaking out to grab his bag and sling it over his shoulder as the other reached for his cane. You held your head high despite how awful your knee was stinging, and stood up adjusting your bag.
“Seriously? That's all you've got? Doofus? Next time let’s try harder.”
Jungkook didn't seemed miffed by your retort, actually seeming more amused than anything, and for some reason it only bugged you more. Did you really want to get into another argument like you were in primary school with him? You discarded the thought as you tightened the strings on your backpack and decided to take the mature route and leave him behind.
The hallways mass of bodies rushing to get to their next period giving you comfort; until you remembered you shared the same economics class. Today was also a field trip to a farm to learn the process of making soy products. It would take up the last few classes of the day. You’d been excited to spend the day out of class and enjoy the rustic scenery out of town. Your only hope was that he hadn't been able to get his parental slip signed; he’d just started the day before. How could he?
When the teacher walked in and asked Jungkook for his permission slip you wanted to howl. Why was the universe so cruel? But why did you care so much?
It was a question you didn't bother to think about; you just grumbled the whole way to the bus. Your teacher standing at its entrance to put a check by your names every time one of your classmates passed him by like lined up cattle. You were the last checkmark: the last person to find an available seat. You rounded the final step and your stomach sank down into your shoes. The universe seeming to play a sick joke of musical chairs; your only options being Jungkook or Amber, the girl who actively struggled to make sure your life was a living hell.
You’d rather be eaten by dogs than even attempt to sit with her. Jungkook it was, then.
Your hand clasped tighter around the strap of your bag as you moved it farther up your shoulder. A large sigh accommodating your steps as you side-stepped down the aisle ending with you in front of his seat. His cane taking up what was left of it.
Jungkook didn't seem to register your presence or he just decided to pretend you weren't there. Either way you felt your annoyance grow as you cleared your throat to grab his attention. His chin barely leaving the perch of his fist as his head turned; gaze intimidating in a way that left your fingers pinching the fabric of yours clothes just to make sure they were still there and he hadn't stared straight through them.
“Can I help you?”
“I need a seat.”
He looked back and no doubt noticed the open spot next to Amber. Jungkook’s giving the slightest nod as he retorted, “There’s one right back there.”
“Come on, Jungkook. What do you want?”
“You're bribing me now?”
His smile was so bright, borderline adorable, and you hated how it threatened to make you retaliate with your own.
“Stop being a brat and just tell me,” you snapped instead.
Jungkook shot a quick glance back at Amber’s giggling figure. You were sure most people thought she sounded like wind chimes or something else cute and feminine, but to you it just sounded like a cat dying. When he looked back at you, Jungkook checked you out one last time. His eyes stopping at the lone earbud that sat against your chest. For a moment, you thought he was actually staring at your breasts making your cheeks burn and your gaze to look anywhere else but at his smug face.
“Let me listen to your iPod there and back on this trip, and I'll let you sit with me.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
Jungkook did a lavish hand sweep at the window. The motion reminding you of the showgirls on The Price is Right, making you believe maybe he’d somehow watched it, and one too many times.
“You get to use your imagination while you look out the window.”
“No way. Joint custody.”
“Fine. Joint custody, but I get to pick the music the whole way. If you have shitty taste the deal's off.”
He stuck out his hand for you to shake and there was a moment, a minor second, that it felt like you were making a deal with the devil. However, the sound of Amber’s laughter practically had your hand bolting into Jungkook’s. You shook it harder than was necessary before dropping it and shooing him to move.
Jungkook removed his bag and cane from the seat. Your legs giving out moments later so you could plop down in it, only to be greeted by his outstretched hand. The smile that spread across his lips shining brighter than the mischief in his eyes.
“As per our agreement: the iPod.”
He wiggles his fingers and you wanted to smack him. Your own squeezing tighter against the metal until, reluctantly, you chose your fate by placing it into his hand. Jungkook didn’t seem to mind your current look of displeasure while you watched him begin to scroll through your assorted music collection.
At least the seat was warm.
The first few seconds were somehow more awkward than you thought possible. Eyes locked in a fifty-yard stare so intense a soldier would’ve been envious. The only movement you caught of him was from your peripherals. Jungkook’s thumbs picking up speed from the leisurely way he scanned through the artists you’d offered. And no you did not, whatsoever, happen to notice the way his bottom lip would dart inside his mouth just to be held gently between his teeth. All the while his eyes focused on the task in front of him.
Nope. You weren’t paying attention to him. Not even a little bit. So how he was able to make you jump twelve inches out of your skin, while you were most definitely not embarrassing yourself by gawking over a beautiful man, was beyond you.
“Ya!” Jungkook clicked his tongue in distaste. His hand wiggling the ipod in your direction, as if it had caused some great offense. “What is this?”
Your neck tiled as you regarded him like he’d grown two heads. You were also positive if your eyebrows knitted together any harder you’d end up with a unibrow.
“Ugh, a mystical device that plays music.”
The look on Jungkook’s face faltered from frustration to annoyance. It was so sudden it ended up sending a bark of laughter in his direction. And just like that, the annoyed look was back again.
“I mean, what the hell do you have on this thing. Who is The Dead Weather? City and Colour? Joji?”
“They are artists I enjoy.”
“They’re shit.”
You rushed to try and snatch it back from him. Jungkook’s reflexes proving to be faster than your growing urge to smack him.
“Excuse me, little miss,” he began. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He used his index finger to push gently against your forehead, but with the current level of irritation, he still proved faster than you. Your failed attempt to swat his hand away meeting only empty air. Earning you a smirk of smug satisfaction.
“I’m trying to get my things back.”
“That wasn’t part of our agreement.”
You tried one last time to take him by surprise. Your right hand shot out too hard to grab at the object clasped in his large hands. The momentum carried you forward to land shoulder first against his chest. Leg nudging against his with enough force that it caused his cane to move an inch. It took everything you had to keep your head down to hide your flaming cheeks.
“And now you’re assaulting me.”
If your eyes were capable of rolling back any father you might've seen brain cells.
“I was only trying to get my property back. Since the only thing that’s coming out of you is complaining.”
“I’m not complaining,” he snapped. “You’re acting like an Indian giver.”
“Is that all you know how to do: complain?” You continued, completely ignoring him. A slight smirk now etching your lips. Jungkook’s eyes flicking down to notice your amusement at his expense. “I believe they call it, ‘trying something new.’”
His eyes narrowed on you and for a split second your pulse began to race. Sure, the agitation on his face at your teasing was obvious, but you could’ve sworn...maybe...just maybe he was smirking. Could you have possibly been able to make him smile?
“I should make you go sit with Amber.”
The smugness in his voice and the cocky smile that joined it instantly made whatever fun you were having come to a complete halt. Jungkook was so pleased with himself he had the audacity to shimmy his shoulders like he’d already won. The rolls had reversed. It was your eyes turn to throw daggers in his direction.
“Now who's the Indian giver.”
Even though he played up on what he felt like was a win, you could tell he was not as amused. His non-injured leg bounced to an incredible rhythm that he could only hear. Probably a furious count to a hundred to keep himself from saying anything else to continue your usual thrilling conversations. So when he handed over one earbud, and the iPod, but placed the other into his ear, it was fair to say it left you baffled.
You were waiting so long for him to give an explanation, but all he did was continue to stare at you. It was starting to make your pulse race again. Why did he constantly have to feel so intense? Everything about him. Not even his current state made him seem any less notable. It just didn’t seem fair.
It wasn’t until he cleared his throat did you realize you’d been staring. For god knows how damn long.
“You gonna play something or not?” he asked.
His hand motioned towards the music while his fingers adjusted the earbud he’d kept.
“I’m so confused.”
“You look it,” he retorted, causing your earlier thoughts to remember, although handsome, he was an incredible pain in the ass.
“Ten seconds ago you complained about my music. Now you want me to play it for you.”
Jungkook turned his gaze away, his body relaxing back against the hard foam of the seat. His eyes still cast outside the window as if he was trying to find some way to escape.
“Either I can spend the next couple hours listening to you talk, or “try” out some new music. If I have a choice, I’ll pick the music please and thank you.”
Oh, how you wish you could’ve shoved him out that tiny window. But as much as you hated to admit it, Jungkook was right. Music was the only reasonable escape from possibly having either of you commit murder.
It was your turn to try and get comfortable. This time your thumb scanning down the list of artists until your eyes caught sight of one he’d mentioned. Without giving him warning you pressed play. The haunting melody of Joji’s “Dancing in the Dark,” flooded the earbuds. His voice melancholic as he began to sing a sad tale of not wanting to be the hidden second option.
The song choice was enough to finally get Jungkook to look back at you. Somehow already having enough with the song choice before it’d barely even reached the chorus.
“Just listen.”
It was the only advice you could give him, and hopefully the reassurance you’d tried to ease into your tone was enough. Whether it was or not, by the time the chorus began he seemingly relaxed again into the seat. His arms moving to cross lazily against his chest. He seemed to actually be taking in the song while he watched out the window. The passing of the steel and concrete that was Seoul into the rural areas of green and forest.
The music itself was calming. It was enough to let yourself fully relax back against it and close your eyes. With your eyes closed you could easily fade out the sounds of the sporadic conversations on the bus. Even though you only had one ear bud, all you needed was to concentrate on the music to drown out the world.
It took a few seconds for you to be pulled into a Joji’s song about terrible longing and being left behind by a lover. I mean, you didn’t really know too much about the latter, but hey, a girl could daydream. His voice was seconds away from heading into the second verse of the chorus, when you heard the sound of the melody being lightly sung beside you.
The voice was beautiful. The most startling part, not the fact of its softness, or the way it swelled in perfect harmony with the song, was that it came from Jungkook. Your eyes flung open with your head snapping to gaze at his serene expression. He continued to face the window, daylight playing along the profile of his face, and his gentle voice singing perfectly in tune.
It wasn’t loud enough that anyone else could’ve heard it over the dozens of bursting conversations being spoken throughout the bus. That the only conclusion you could come up with to why he would be singing at all. He thought no one would be able to pay attention. You probably would’ve stayed gawking at him if his eyes fluttering open didn’t send you crashing back against the seat and clutching your eyes shut. You needed to pretend you hadn’t noticed. Or else he would stop. He would hide this part of himself that showed he was more than what he tried to portray.
You didn’t have to open your eyes to know he was glancing in your direction. To see his eyes gaze over you with suspicion before settling back and listening to the next track. Khalid’s intro of “Talk,” beginning to play into your earbud.
You spent the rest of the trip staying beside him, close as you could get without looking creepy, just to hear him gently sing. He breathed a gentle version of each one he knew, or came to like, and made it his own. Even being a few times were his nerves got the better of him. His voice rising ever slightly when he drew too deep into the song. He would quiet after each outburst, but to your pleasure Jungkook would start back up moments later.
After all the bickering, you could definitely say the trade was worth it. You were so taken with listening to him that when the bus came to a stop, you didn’t realize it until your earbud was yanked from your ears. Your eyes heavy from sleep fluttered open and closed a few times before they focused on Jungkook’s face.
“Ya, didn’t you hear them call us off the bus?”
Your response came in the form of slow blinks and a mouth half-hung open. You wished more for a nap than going out to explore a farm, but your limbs were screaming to be stretched. You went to answer him when, instead, Jungkook grabbed his bag, cane, and started to try and scoot over you.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”
“Trying to get by! So excuse me!”
His backside rubbed against your arms and, to your horror, your chest. Without thinking, your hand lashed out to smack across his bottom causing both of you to go as still as the dead. Your heart was thundering as you looked at your hand like it’d just finished committing murder. Maybe it had. But the only person it’d murdered was you with your eyes roaming up to see a shocked Jungkook gawking down at you over his shoulder.
“Did you really just smack my ass.”
“It was an accident!”
“An accident?” He questioned.
“Self-defense!”
Jungkook tried to hide the amusement your no doubt panicking was causing him. His mouth struggling to keep the frown that was tilting ever so slightly at the top of his lips.
“If anything needed to be defended, it was my honor. Over here just smacking people’s ass’s without a warning.”
You knew by now your face looked like a fire hydrant.
“Self-defense from you dragging your ass all over me! I’m not a seat, ya know.”
“Could’ve fooled me.”
This time Jungkook didn’t try to hide his smile. To your surprise, it wasn’t a malicious one that showed he enjoyed your embarrassment. No. This one decorated his face in something softer that made your heart thunder to a different rhythm entirely.
“Oh, look you guys. Shit Stain and The Cripple are flirting.”
Amber’s grating voice was one you’d grown painstakingly accustomed too. The sinister way she spoke impossibly loud just so everyone was forced to hear her. Whether they wanted to or not. You were used to her coldness and the constant way she harassed you. What you weren’t so used to, was having Jungkook as part of the punchline.
Immediately, you felt his legs tense where they touched you. The muscles ramrod straight and flexing under the skin. The lighthearted tone you’d heard seconds before in your banter was now replaced with an aloofness that made you stiffen in your seat. Jungkook’s jaw held tight as he regarded Amber as if she were no more than a pest buzzing at his ear.
“Ya, fix your nose before you bother talking to me. I can see half the planet up there.”
Amber’s eyes flashed hellfire as she glowered over her shoulders to stop the giggling that ensued. When all grew quiet enough to where she felt like she would be heard, a harsh smile spread her lips. Her legs began to take a step to move away from the two peasants who’d held enough of her attention.
“Whatever, Cripple. Try not to get your stick in any holes.”
She was passing the front of your shared seat when, suddenly, Amber’s legs gave way. A tumbling mess of shrieks, bleached hair, and her arms flapping rapidly a solid indication of her mysterious attempt at taking flight. The only thing that moved to catch her was her face. The minute the laughter began to bubble up inside you, you quickly placed a hand over your mouth. Least the she-devil hear it escape.
You took a second to inspect what could’ve possibly taken down the ice queen. Even when she wore ridiculously high heels, Amber walked with a grace you knew you’d never pull off. Not without looking like a newborn giraffe, that is. Glancing down you noticed Jungkook’s cane strategically placed right where her foot would’ve landed. The culprit in making Amber a freshly minted carpet on the bus’s floor. Somewhere on the bus you knew she was up from her tumble and huffing a few choice words. You were sure she knew, just like you did, that Jungkook was the one who’d done it. You paid no attention to her tantrum and kept a transfixed gaze on him.
He’d finished scooting the rest of the way to get to the middle of the bus and was situating his cane and shoulder bag. His hand suddenly reaching down into view and patiently waiting for you to take it.
“Come on, Y/N. Let’s go.”
You knew you looked like a fool. Your eyes mirroring the thousands of silent questions that threatened to make you ill. A part of you hoping he understood your dumbfounded look simply begged him to find some way to answer you. You’d stared starry-eyed up at him for so long you half expected the patience of Jungkook’s open hand to fall flat. Instead, he continued to surprise you. His gaze gentle, and hand openly waiting for you to take it when you were ready.
With eyes wide and mouth agape, your body rejected your stunned silence and placed a small hand in his. His own quickly enveloped yours perfectly and gave you the added support you needed to find stable footing beside him. Jungkook finally looked away from you to stare at the remaining goons.
The moment you stood beside him you became painfully aware of the noticeable height difference. Your gaze moving up inch-by-inch until your eyes were locked onto his face. The stubbornness of a hard set jaw and eyes that dared anyone to speak enough to make your heartbeat pick up in your chest. When he appeared to be finished making sure his presence was known, Jungkook’s eyes turned back to you. A silent request of reassurance to know you were alright making you answer with a quick nod.
Your cheeks blushed furiously as you struggled to look away from his gaze. No longer were you so worried about Amber; your mind trapped on a repeat of questions. Did Jungkook always smell like Calvin Klein cologne? Could it be considered weird how you felt undeniable comfort pressed up against him? Or really weird if in your head you suddenly imagined recreating this scene a million times later with you being braver beside him, instead of being the damsel in distress.
He didn’t seem at all perplexed with your case of sudden shyness. His strong legs pulling you both forward and past the horde of Amber and her lackeys without missing a step. His head held high while the other hand helped him keep his balance without using his cane. For the small world that was high school, Jungkook showed them he was still that once popular boy who was known for not taking shit from no one. A demi-god amongst mere mortals that were somehow honored by his presence.
And here you were. So close to the orbit of his sun and walking away unscathed.
Your train of rushing thoughts kept you from paying attention. It was something you soon were going to regret when he led you off the steps of the bus and onto the dirt road. Jungkook’s exit was obviously graceful while yours in comparison was a train wreck. Instead of your feet stepping off the last step and landing like a normal person, you lost your footing. Your clumsy feet sending you struggling to find a balance with the earth before you crash landed on the floor. Luckily, Jungkook’s back was there to catch you.
The momentum of your fall sent his feet skittering to correct you both before you fell into the dirt. A few choice cuss words leaving his lips and crimson flaring up on your cheeks to make the dance of falling even more entertaining. You could practically hear the cackling of the witches echoing out of the bus like a cave.
Jungkook made quick work of righting you both; his good leg furiously hoping to support the weak one. His cane dug into the earth a good inch to add some more stabilization. You let go of his hand and moved away from his side where you’d previously been planted. You weren’t worthy of being there. This boy who saw your distress and helped you. Only for you to ruin it in the process.
“Well that’s one way to ruin an exit,” he huffed.
He glanced in your direction and you could’ve sworn he was smiling. Or was that a smirk? Whatever it was, it was quickly washed away as his eyes took you in. “You okay?”
“I’m sorry!”
Your words rushed from your lips with your back snapping to bow a perfect ninety-degrees. Your hair a curtain to try and hide your embarrassment.
“Ugh...for what?”
“For bumping into you like that. I should’ve been paying attention.”
A soft laugh bounced from between his lips and you were willing to beat his face lit up like pure sunshine. You moved to stand upright just in time to see you were right. Jungkook was either oblivious to the way you were looking at him, or was simply unfazed. His shoulder hiking the backpack where it’d begun to fall as he adjusted himself to get ready to move to join the rest of the class up ahead.
“You did ruin one hell of a stylish exit.”
“I don’t know how stylish you can be stepping off of a school bus, but...thank you.”
The both of you locked eyes with one another. A large part of you hoped Jungkook was able to see the sincerity or at least hear it. Maybe he wasn’t that much of a pain in the ass after all. That soft smirk you’d grown accustomed to etched back on his lips as he took the first step towards your waiting classmates.
“No problem. Plus, I figured I owed you for letting me listen to your music.”
You felt your brow shoot up in mock surprise. Your legs falling into step beside him.
“I thought you said I had terrible taste.”
“I never said terrible,” Jungkook corrected. His eyes danced with a playfulness that lifted a smile to your lips
“You could’ve fooled me.”
“Well, it wasn’t the greatest, but thank you. I actually ended up liking most of it, at least.”
“Oh, what a sweet way of insulting my musical taste.”
“Hey! I said I liked most of it. It’s like a win-win. Kinda.”
You wanted to be snappy. Give him some more hell for always playing up on being a condescending moody jerk. In reality, walking next to Jungkook while the silence swelled around you without the awkward pressure; you knew that wasn’t all of him. He’d proven how sweet he could be at the memory of how easily you’d felt protected by a simple stretch of a hand. The look in his eyes while he waited for you to take his extended hand a plea to know you could trust him. Strangely, a part of you already felt like you could.
You snuck a look over in Jungkook’s direction, and felt a smile begin to sweep up the corners of your lips. It was a different, but nice, change to have someone come to your defense. Yeah, most of the time you wanted to throttle him for seeming like he could care less. In that moment, however, he cared enough to help. That had to mean something.
“You’re welcome.”
You hoped your words conveyed the gratitude you felt in that moment. Prayed that Jungkook could hear it. When he looked at you, you made sure to give him a quick smile before you looked away. Your eyes struggled not to look back at him; to tell him all the things that were racing through your head. It took every ounce of your will to stay focused on the group of classmates that were growing closer. Somewhere along the way, you’d hoped Jungkook would’ve replied with his usual smart ass remarks. It worried you how sad a small part of you felt at his silence.
Now, you worried maybe you were going a little nuts.
Instead, you came to the edge of the group in silence. Your ears struggling to grasp on to the middle of what your teacher gave out for instructions for the day.
So what if that insane part of you didn’t receive a smart ass remark in return for your gratitude. You were more than happy with the fact Jungkook stayed by your side. The close proximity just enough to convey what you were both feeling without unnecessary words.
______________
For the past hour the farmer -Kim Sejung - had shown the class around his vast property. The beginning of this magical tour starting with where he manufactured the tofu once it was fermented then sent down to be processed for packaging. He was a man who took immense pride in his work. The next room where the fermentation took place and, his overeager explanation, spelled out how devoted he was to his craft.
The whole entire backwards presentation was something your teacher decided became a chance for everyone to write down everything you’d been shown. A punishment you knew was coming when Kim Sejung lost half the class to their own conversations long before you’d hit the second part of his speech.
Now, anyone could be wondering why all of you were taking the longest stroll of your life out in the middle of the farm. A fair question you’d been asking yourself since you realized your shoes were completely covered in mud. You’d been trying to understand why this hadn’t been the first place Kim Sejung would’ve taken all of you. Your only guess being he just enjoyed showing the process backwards. Or maybe he was secretly a mastermind at torture. It was the only logical conclusion you could come up with at having the entire class now out in the muddy acres of his farm.
And sure, maybe your attention was being sent over your shoulder every five seconds. A certain boy with exhaustion creased in his brow making it harder for you to ignore. You were looking back so often you felt like you’d end up with whiplash at any minute. Really, it was all Jungkook’ fault for causing you to worry; becoming painfully aware with each glance at Jungkook’s struggling frame.
How Sejung -, or anyone else for that matter, hadn’t noticed he was falling further behind the group with every step left you completely perplexed. You’d gave up listening to whatever the farmer or teacher talked about or what questions they were throwing around. You could bet it had to do about soil.
If everyone else could ignore him why couldn’t you? It’s not that you hadn’t tried, cause of course you’d done exactly that. Your bottom lip now held a semi-permanent indent from your teeth. Whenever you felt that tick in your neck to look back to check on him: you bit down. When you felt like drawing attention to him by saying something: you bit down. A part of you willing to bet Jungkook would never forgive you if you did.
Your solution? It was ingenious, really.
You fell back behind every classmate. Patiently, you waited for everyone to pass you up. Your feet dragging in the muddy dirt until you were sure no one would notice when you inevitably stopped.
With a soft count of three under your breath, you came to a halt at the back of the group. Your small count continued for another round before you were comfortable with the distance it’d placed between the group, Jungkook, and yourself.
You let out a huff of satisfaction as you turned around to give Jungkook your complete attention. Your neck thanking you for the small favor. What you found, however, greeting you was far from what you’d hoped to find.
Jungkook’s current location became a solid five feet behind the group. His feet finally coming to the large puddle of mud that you and the class had easily maneuvered Jungkook had not. His struggle coming to a standstill at the muddy puddles edge. Jungkook’s face etched itself in harsh determination to no doubt allow him from moving forward. You told yourself you would stay back and wait for him.
Just wait, You kept telling yourself over and over. A broken record having nothing on what you felt capable of standing there. Your pulse bonding in your veins and feet bouncing with anxiety as he assessed his options. All you were supposed to do was hang back to walk with him. That was it. You weren’t his nanny. You knew how he felt about being pitied, and yet, when he took his first tentative step out into the mud and his cane sunk deep and his bad leg followed suit, your feet deceived you.
It appeared Mother Nature had her own way of pushing you past your reserved good intentions. Your feet sprinted forward fast enough that you were embarrassed at their quickness. The expected movement bringing Jungkook’s frustrated gaze up from his current dilemma to you.
“What are you doing here, Y/N?”
The annoyance held in his question didn’t go unnoticed by you. If it was you in his position, you’d be annoyed seeing you standing there too and not offering to help.
“I came to help you.”
The words just streamed out with your running thoughts. Your feet willing to move forward back into the mud to help him. Jungkook noticeably began to struggle to remove his foot that submerged quickly underneath.
“I didn’t ask for your help.”
“You didn’t have too, Jungkook. I want to help.”
“Let me rephrase myself.” His irritation was pure fire in his eyes as his words hurled in your direction. “I didn’t ask for it and I don’t want it.”
You wish you could say you handled his dismissal with grace. That you understood he was only being a jerk because he was embarrassed and angry at his current predicament. You really wanted to be that bigger person. Well...that most definitely wasn’t what happened.
Your eyes narrowed in on him. Your previous desire to help evaporated as you watched his leg sink deeper. His other foot soon joined the first in a poorly calculated attempt to release the other. Your arms crossed over your chest as you took in the scene before you.
“Well, Jungkook, I’m not sure if you noticed but you’re slowly heading towards being buried under that mud.”
“Thank you for that astute observation. Anything else you’d like to add?”
“Why are you being such an asshole?!” you snapped.
Your arms came loose down at your side and turned to clenched fists. You weren’t exactly sure what you expected his reaction to be. You knew Jungkook held a hatred for being pitied. Hell, you would too if it was the other way around. You knew he wasn’t helpless, but you also knew he couldn’t do everything alone. No one could. So what was so wrong with offering to help him?
You weren’t sure how you looked. Maybe crazy? Or did the desperation of not knowing how to handle the situation have you appear sad? Whatever it was Jungkook saw, it was enough to look away. His eyes dropping down to his covered feet.
The space between the two of you swelled with tension. His hair perfectly covering his face, and kept you from being able to steal any glance. It was enough to make you unsure if you should prepare yourself for a verbal battle with him or if you should simply walk away. What if you’d made a mistake thinking Jungkook would want to be bothered at all with help. Especially from you.
“God, this is embarrassing.”
His words were so light you weren’t sure at first if he’d spoken. A part of you wondering if you’d made up the sound of his voice as Jungkook’s face continued to be hidden by layers of hair. But, lord help you, you knew you weren’t imagining things. The sound of his voice is something you’d come to recognize with ease. You knew without a doubt it most definitely was him. And the sadness that reverberated from his words made your anger dissipate instantly.
“What?”
Could you have picked a stupider response? When Jungkook lifted his head up to look at you, you knew he silently agreed.
“It’s embarrassing!” His hands motioned to take in his current predicament. The hurt shown on his proud features made your heart ache to comfort him. “How pitiful can I get? It’s so damn frustrating! The cripple unable to get himself out of some stupid mud.”
“Jungkook, you are literally the least pitiful person I’ve ever met.”
“And yet, it doesn’t make me any less stuck.”
You took a step forward and began to try and edge around what you could of the puddle. You knew there was no way you weren’t getting more mud on your shoes, but the purpose was worth it.
“Why didn’t you just go around it?” Your question earned you a dead stare. One that reminded you of your mother when she felt like you’d asked the silliest question. You held your hands up in surrender and said, “Hey. It’s a fair question.”
“If I just go around it, it proves that I can’t do the simplest thing, Y/N. It proves…”
“That you aren’t like everybody else,” you finished for him.
You could’ve kicked yourself. How could you not have noticed it sooner. Jungkook just wanted to prove to himself that he could still do things like he did before his accident. Because even though he showed people bringing up his disability didn’t bother him, it did. He still hadn’t come to terms with what happened, and believed the current state of his leg deemed him less worthy.
He looked away from whatever he saw in your eyes. His own fighting not to show the sadness that threatened to spill down his cheeks.
“You aren’t like everyone else, Jungkook.” Your words tore his head back in your direction. His shoulders quickly squared up to take whatever verbal blow you were about to hurl in his direction. You were happy to convince him otherwise.
“You don’t need to prove anything to a single person. Yeah, you aren’t a hundred percent who you used to be, but it doesn’t make you any less you. You aren’t defined by a damn leg and if another human being does treat you differently because of it: fuck’em. Now, get your shit together and hand me the end of your cane.”
The both of you stared at one another for what felt like an eternity. Jungkook’s face unreadable as his eyes took you in making you squirm just the slightest bit. Whether he was looking for a hint that you were deceiving him; that something hurtful laid underneath, he wouldn’t find it. You made sure with your hand this time open and waiting for him, that he could see just how much you meant what you said.
After what felt like a baby size eternity, Jungkook answered you in a way you’d grown to expect. In one swift motion, he picked his cane out from the mud and placed it, dirty end first into your waiting hand. Your face scrunched up in disgust, as the leftover mud squished between your fingers. The action enough to break the coldness of Jungkook’s blank expression into the smirk that was all too familiar.
“Oh my god! You would do that.”
The amusement on his face was enough to tell you he’d most definitely done it on purpose. Of course, you’d already known that. You didn’t need his raised eyebrow or that devilish smirk to inform you of that.
“Oh, so you think you know me now.”
“I know enough to know, without a doubt, this is something you’d do. Brat.”
You saved the last word for good measure and it was met with a bark of surprise laughter. His reaction was not something you’d expected, but a welcomed one as his face instantly lit up brighter than you’d ever seen. Jungkook’s laughter and smile was genuine and good god, was it breathtakingly adorable.
Who knew calling him a brat led to so many heart stopping possibilities? Like no longer having a permanent scowl.
“Alright smart ass, how about we settle this for when I’m not stuck in the mud.”
“You got yourself a deal. Only if you stop pouting.”
“I was not pouting!”
It was your turn to laugh wholeheartedly while your other hand moved to secure itself to his cane. There was no way you’d be letting it slip free from you. Mud or no mud.
“Tomato potato: pouting is pouting.”
Jungkook’s head tilted to the side. His brain noticeably trying to comprehend what it was you just said.
“That makes absolutely no sense.”
“It makes perfect sense, Jungkook now grab a hold of yo-“
Honestly, you should’ve seen this coming. He’d already given you a muddy end of a cane. It was the perfect foreshadowing moment that was leading up to this, and yet, somehow you were surprised when he pulled with full force. You figured he was strong - not freakishly. Not enough to send you flying face first toward the large mud puddle with the sound of a squeaking bird of surprise that you could only assume was yourself.
The only thing that kept you from going face first was a split second decision to ruin just the lower half of your outfit.
The impact with the mud was squishy and came with the weirdest sound effects that reminded you of pushing your hand into a container of slim. God, was it squishy. An immediate, “Ewww,” dragging out from your lips as your hands lifted up from where they’d been buried. Your eyes taking in the full extent of your lower half now resembles the Swamp Thing.
Jungkook’s laughter brought you back to reality and flinging what was left of the mud on your hands in his direction. It only earned you another bark of laughter.
“What in the hell was that for?!”
“Now whose pouting?” He teased.
You wanted to hit him but you knew you couldn’t reach. So you settled for flinging another round of mud.
“Are you kidding me? You pulled me in here cause I said you were pouting!”
“Yup.”
“Unbelievable. You’re a child.”
“I thought you said brat?”
“That too! Ugh! Jungkook! You’re such a pain in the ass. I’m not helping you anymore.”
You moved to try and pull up one leg and found it way more difficult than you’d imagined. Seriously, was this shit superglue? No matter how many times you struggled to pull up either leg it wouldn’t budge; producing an agitated groan to seep from your body.
You wanted to murder him.
When you glanced up at him at least Jungkook had the decency to appear worried.
“Do you need help? I didn’t think it’d be so hard for you to pull yourself up.”
“Oh, so you’re worried about me not being able to pull myself up, but not about me covered in mud.”
The shrug Jungkook gave as an answer made you want to throttle him. You wanted to tell him to shove his help up his ass. Realistically, however, you knew there was no way you were getting unstuck without getting dirtier from crawling around. For a second time, his hand appeared, like magic, in front of you.
Your eyes trailed up his hand to that devilish grin of his and found your earlier agitation disintegrate. What you hated the most, was how his eyes lit up to match his smile. This warm version of Jungkook wasn’t someone you were used to. You’d seen the cocky jock who knew he was good at everything. Experienced the real asshole Jungkook that made you want to rip out chunks of hair. But this side of him...was worth a heartache or two.
Without another thought you reached out and took his hand and allowed him to start lifting you up. It wasn’t until you were half way you came up with your own plan. A devilish grin of your own spreading your lips wide as the idea grew into something worth doing .
Jungkook had a moment to be confused before your free hand shot out and took fierce hold of his forearm. You made sure it was locked in place before your body went completely limp, and sent his body into an unbalanced mess.
“The fu-!”
Jungkook’s descent, at first, made you feel like you’d accomplished a victory. One you didn’t get to relish in for long. Jungkook may not have been able to finish his earlier sentence, but you easily made up for it. A softened, “Fuck!” came pressed from your chest as he landed sideways on top of you. The angle reminded you of an awkward pair of scissors: if one part of the scissors was ridiculously muscled for a student.
You’d had little time to move your hands up to brace yourself against his weight. The air from your lungs whooshing out in laughter with your body struggling to recover from underneath him. And no, no you weren’t painfully aware that your hands could feel every well lined muscle under the fabric of his t-shirt. And no, you were not blushing. Not even a little.
You were sure when Jungkook lifted his head up to look in your direction, he’d see the sinful glee you took in your awkward positioning. Instead, your lungs erupted into laughter. One side of his face perfectly smeared with mud making one eye remain closed and his right doing most of the work. He looked ridiculous...and cute.
“You think this is funny?”
“I think-I think it’s the best thing I’m going to see all day.”
It took a few tries to speak through your laughter, but when you finally got the words out you couldn’t have been more proud. Jungkook on the other hand, seemed to struggle to keep the annoyance on his face. The first sign of a smile cracking into the mud that began to dry on his face.
Jungkook moved to prop himself up - the action giving you the room you needed to wiggle out from underneath him. You were about to call it a success, a retort to an unspoken comment he’d yet to make. All of it came crashing down, however, when Jungkook’s mud covered hand rose from the depths and placed a long streak down your nose with his thumb giving an artistic sweep across your cheek.
The marks he gave reminded you of those old western movies you’d seen. Warpaint covered faces of men getting ready to square off to defend their home from invaders. The thought seemed to match perfectly with the beat of your heart thundering like a drum inside your chest.
It wasn’t just because Jungkook touched you - on purpose - in a playful way. It had nothing to do with the fact his muddy hand was currently resting against your cheek. Or from the denial that it brought out a spark of mischievous happiness to ignite inside you as your mouth fell open to expose the sound of laughter. No, your heart pounded against your chest purely for the look that passed behind chocolate eyes and the soft smile that followed close behind.
So, sure. In that instance it could’ve just been a plan old look. You weren’t a hundred percent sure it wasn’t more than just a look though, either. There was that one boy in first grade, however, who did give you an aggressive teeth-clacking peck on the lips during recess, but this was completely different.
And because you were so uncertain of what it all meant, your only reaction was to lift your hand up from beside you and slam it palm first against his face.
Jungkook’s face lit up in shock and you couldn’t stop the eruption of laughter that spilled from your lips. It was an immediate rush of joy at seeing his handsome face marked by your small muddy handprint that streaked itself across the plains of his face. Normally, you’d be mortified: waiting patiently to be scolded and made to feel small. Instead, the shock wore off his face in an instant. Jungkook’s eyes lighting up with childlike excitement as a giddy, “Oh yeah?” rushed between his lips.
You didn’t have a chance to wonder what he meant before he reached into the mud and brought up a snowball version of the earth.
“Oh, no you don’t!”
Your eyes went wide and frantic giggles exploded free as your body struggled in vain to get out from under him. The previous joy of being pinned by his weight dissipating when that large mud ball found its new home smeared on top of your head.
“Jungkook-ah!”
His own laughter rose up around you as your body began to move in earnest to get out from under him. When you finally realized it was pointless, another bright idea overtook you. If Jungkook noticed the renewed mischievous glint in your eye, he didn’t show it.
He continued to smile obliviously down at you until the two fist fulls of mud you’d taken in both hands came crashing down on top of his head. It didn’t matter that your face caught some of the aftermath: the face he made was priceless.
You didn’t get a chance to enjoy your tiny victory before the two of you were a mess of arms and limbs rolling feverishly around; the two of you playfully wrestling for dominance. The mixture of your laughter rising up until you weren’t sure where Jungkook’s ended and yours began. By the end of it, you were both resembling the pigs you’d seen earlier on the farm. Bodies fully covered in wet earth and lounging beside each other in exhaustion. Every few moments random fits of giggles overtaking the two of you until you realized you both needed to get back.
This time, instead of the two of you refusing help from the other, you eagerly took it. The both of you worked together to reach the edge of the mud pit and, without further incident, pulled each other out.
The walk back to the main barn was done in silence. In other circumstances, you would’ve been consumed with a need to fill it. The impending weight of anxiety would’ve flared across your skin until you would’ve blurted out anything. Small talk was never one of your strong suits, but a comfortable banter had somehow formed between the two of you. You knew if you started talking, Jungkook would respond. It was still a fifty-fifty on whether or not it would be a smart ass response or a real one, but a response nonetheless.
You didn’t try to start a conversation. You chose to enjoy the reassurance that he was beside you. Your mind running through what exactly just happened and how you both ended up looking like bad impression art. You’d spent so much time stealing glances in his direction that you could’ve sworn you caught him doing the same. But who were you kidding. No one had stolen glances at you since middle school, and that was only to steal the answers off tests.
There was no way Jeon Jungkook would be the one to break that trend. No matter how flattering the thought. So when you felt that knowable itch of being watched you found yourself surprised that Jungkook was indeed staring at you.
“Are you cold?”
Jungkook’s question jolted you from your train of thought and sent you reeling into another. He was closer to you now. Close like you’d been while sitting on the bus with your shoulders brushing with every movement. Every bump helplessly sending you lightly banging into the other.
On the bus you could easily play it off as something out of your control. But now? Now there was no good explanation that you could find to why Jungkook decided to walk so closely beside you. There was no way to explain away the way his gaze drew across your face like he’d save it to memory.
“Well I am covered in freezing mud water.”
You’d tried for sarcasm but your voice barely carried over a whisper. It made Jungkook’s head subconsciously dip lower just to hear you. The devilish smirk he was infamous for spread like wildfire across his lips.
“I would offer you my jacket, since it’s the gentlemanly thing to do, but you see some crazy person pushed me into the mud.”
A scoff escaped you as your hand playfully whipped out to slap his shoulder.
“Ya, Jungkook! You? A gentleman? That’s funny. What is also funny is the fact you got yourself stuck in the mud first. I just came to rescue you.”
“Rescue me?” He asked with an eyebrow coyly cocked.
“I’m like your knight in shining armor.”
A throaty laugh came from between his lips; sending his head back exposing his face to the sun. You were mesmerized watching him as the sun kissed down across his face and weren’t at all ashamed at being caught watching as he brought his attention back to you. A smile of your own growing to match the one he wore along with your mind fluttering in wonder of how he was even real.
“If you’re my knight, Y/N I’m in a lot of trouble.”
You feigned hurt but couldn’t hide the grin happily splayed on your face and, crazy thing was, you didn’t want to. It felt impossible that the two of you were so giddy with each other. A strange familiarity brewed heavily between you to the point it felt like the two of you joked like this for years.
Jungkook’s own smile enough to warm the chill that began to creep up your arms to expose goosebumps on your skin. The two of you fell into a shroud of companionable silence and continued to make your way back to the main entrance of the farm. Your heart skipping a helpless beat every time you feel Jungkook’s fingers graze across yours. Your mind hopelessly wanting to believe maybe, just maybe, he was tempted to reach out and hold it.
You came back to the main farm and found your teacher and classmates impatiently waiting. The immediate shock your teacher showed at your appearance seemed to grow more intense until he came storming over: hysterical at your current condition.
“What on earth have the two of you been doing?!”
“They’ve been rolling around with pigs.”
You knew that tart voice anywhere and wasn’t surprised it was Amber that spoke. What did surprise you was how much you didn’t care with Jungkook standing like an equally filthy calm current by your side.
“We’re sorry, seonsaegnim,” Jungkook began coolly with a bow. When he realized you were still standing a hand shot out to the back of your head to bring it down. You quickly slapped it away but kept yourself in a bow. “We got lost from the group and found ourselves stuck in a giant mud pit.”
“It seems to me like you were playing in it,” the farmer chuckled. “I could hose them off before they get back on the bus.”
His offer left heat rising to your cheeks. The sound of a sea of giggles making your stomach ache in embarrassment. You used the curtain of your hair to hide and hoped they’d come up with a different suggestion, but with a small shrug of his shoulder, Jungkook brought your heated attention back to him. A soft smile cracking the now dry handprint you’d left across his cheek.
It was ridiculous. You both looked ridiculous, and yet, he was still handsome. You probably looked like a troll.
“Hey Knight in shining armor,” he whispered. “It seems we get to take a bath together.”
The sun couldn’t be anywhere near as hot as your face felt. The heat spread from red cheeks and down your neck until the butterflies in your stomach were out of control. Jungkook knew what he had done. He could see it plainly on your face and he loved it.
You, on the other hand, wanted to hit him.
And just like divine intervention your teacher did it for you. His curled up pamphlet struck down on top of Jungkook’s head, but it only made his smile grow impossibly larger.
“Ya! I don’t think so! We’ll have you go one at a time to clean up. I’ll look for something for you both to change into.”
Jungkook went first to be hosed down. The farmer actually allowed him to have his privacy so he could get into his more...private areas in peace. The clothes that were found for both of you to wear were old gym clothes thrown in a box in the storage bay at the bottom of the bus. You imagined they must have been thrown there for a reason. The colors were sad and faded down to a color that resembled the mud you’d fallen in. An even sadder rim of yellow wrapped around the sleeves the only hope of color in the terrible outfit you were now forced to wear. At least it was warm with the added bonus Jungkook somehow ended up with the shortest shorts in the box.
After the two of you dried off and changed you were shepherded onto the bus. The place that held Amber and her minions now vacant due to the teacher demanding you sit exactly in the far back in their spot. He must have imagined it would be like putting two naughty kids in time out. The only effect it really had was giving you the chance to breathe and enjoy the solitude.
Jungkook dug around for your earbuds inside your bag. Finally finding the small container and lifting it open. His fingers pulling out the left and surprising you by placing it gently in your ear. Your face must have shown this but Jungkook paid you no mind. He was busy placing the other bud into his ear; flipping the case shut and throwing it back inside to forever be lost until you practically tipped out your bag to locate it again. Oh well. A problem for another time.
“Put on something for the ride home, Y/N. I trust you to be dj again.”
You wanted to tease him. To joke about putting on the YMCA or Macarena . The only thing that stopped you was the relaxed features of Jungkook’s face. The lazy way his neck rested back against the seat and his head languidly gazing in your direction. You tried to squish back all the butterflies that look gave you and a hushed, “Alright. Lady Marmalade it is,” embarrassingly came from between your lips.
Your eyes were too focused on your music list. You didn’t allow them to look as he chuckled beside you. The sound light and rough all at once - demanding you give it attention.
“Don’t make me regret it,” he joked.
You kept scrolling until you found Deans’ “D (Half Moon)”. The soft piano and tone of his voice quickly filled the ear buds and by the soft hum of the voice beside you, you knew you’d pick a good one.
You allowed yourself to relax beside him. Your right hand placing the playlist down between the two of you. Your body was so relaxed you didn’t think about moving your hand anywhere else. Your eyes falling comfortably closed as you continue to listen to the acoustics of the song and the even softer, and equally pleasurable, song of Jungkook singing along.
When his left hand found its way down beside yours, you didn’t question his reasoning. The music held between the two of you and maybe he wanted to change the playlist. You let your mind continue to think that even after his finger gingerly grazed yours and found a home beside them. Both of your hands stayed this way the entire ride back to campus. Neither of you moved to change positions; lost to the sounds of the melodies of the playlist.
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Stitches and Pucks
i swear i tried writing the whole fic from the 3rd and 2nd pov in the beginning but hockey harry is so dang loud he’s like hang on honey this is MY story so let me tell this one ☠️ so here we are. i had loads of fun getting inside his head though, i hope you like it!
massive thank you to my biggest cheerleader @smokeinherperfume 🥺💛 and ken i’m so sorry for making you read an LA Kings fic 😂 @emotionally-imbruised
warning: smut. there’s no actual bow chicka wow wow stuff though but there’s some thigh riding 👀
[17k]
Harry
I swear I’m gonna kill Zayn.
That fucker just slammed my face into the boards, and as I’m trying to push back while flexing my jaw because that’s the right thing to do when you’ve got your face smashed into the boards, he tries to push me back again. Well, not a fucking chance. I give a particularly hard push back to get him off my back and I’m able to free my stick from the boards and put the blade to ice.
Because we’re playing on home ice here at Staples Center and I know its speed and consistency like the back of my hand, it takes nothing but a short tap on the puck and it shoots back between both of our legs. We scrabble, throwing elbows and shoulders and even kicking at it with our skates to expel it out. It’s a hard-fought battle, probably not lasting more than a few seconds, but it’s starting to wind me up because fuck if I’m gonna let them score. We’re up 4-2 against The Sharks, and with only under six minutes left to play in the game, I’d like to keep it that way.
I really don’t see it coming. And as much as we hate each other’s guts, it probably wasn’t even intentional, but it still hurts like a mother when Zayn’s stick pops upward, the end catching me just above my left eyebrow. I don’t feel any pain at first, but red, blurred vision definitely lets me know I’ve got blood streaming down my face. The ref blows the whistle and the play stops as the penalty is called.
The pain hits me next, and I bend over at the waist, my clear eye watching as a stream of blood hits the ice and freezes. In just about a few seconds, I feel a towel covering the cut and I hear the new team doctor say, “alright… let’s get you off the ice.”
Her hand stays steady at my back as I lift up straight, taking the towel in my own hand to hold it in place. The doctor walks alongside me while I skate to the bench, which has an exit door on one end that will lead back to the locker room. A few of my teammates slap me on the shoulder as I walk past. Harvey, who plays the same position as me but on the second-line yells out, “get stitched up so you can come back out and kick his pansy ass.”
I can’t help but chuckle, because that’s exactly what I plan to do.
“Up on the table,” the doctor says briskly and I watch with my one good eye as she quickly starts preparing the necessary supplies. I hop up onto the table, and in just under four minutes, my very own Doctor McSteamy has my injury evaluated, lidocaine injected, and is now closing the cut with stitches.
Good grief, she’s a fucking vision. Has a slammin’ body too, which no doubt would feel fucking fantastic underneath me. She probably doesn’t even realise it, but she’s got her little tongue sticking out the side of her mouth and I bet that’s something she does when she’s trying to concentrate on what she’s doing. I can feel my dick starting to twitch, so I close my eyes and get my mind out of the gutter before I get a hard-on. Fucking embarrassing.
When I’m sure I’ve got my downstairs head situation under control, I open my eyes again. She’s placing what I’m guessing the last suture on the cut and I make sure I put on my most dazzling smile as I look at her because I can be devastatingly charming when I want to be.
“Hey Doc,” I lean a bit closer to her when she’s done and murmur, “you should let me cook you dinner at my place tonight. You know, as a thank you.”
“No, thank you,” she replies without even looking towards me, preferring to busy herself with putting away the supplies that she used to tend to my cut. “I was just doing my job.”
“Alright then, no dinner at my place tonight,” I say with a sly smile. “But how about giving me your number so I can take you out sometime?”
She snorts in reply. “I’m not one of your puck bunnies.”
“No, you’re not,” I smirk at her. My tone is matter-of-fact when I add, “you’re one hot doctor.”
Not sure what I’m expecting, but this is definitely not it. Most women would blush and drop their knickers in an instant when I give them the tiniest bit of my attention, let alone a compliment, and let’s just say that’s why my bed is rarely empty. But it seems like my charms don’t work on this doctor since all I get is a fucking eye-roll.
“Are you always this forward?” She asks, still not looking at me.
“I’m a simple man, Doc,” I tell her with a shrug. “I see something I like, I go and get it.”
“Good for you,” she says dismissively, but I don’t miss the hint of amusement in her tone.
“Does that mean I get your number?”
She lets out a chuckle and finally turns to look at me. “That means I like your way of thinking.”
“So, no number?” I pout like a damn child, and apparently, the sight is hilarious to her. She throws her head back and laughs, and when she looks back to me, I get a wink.
“Sorry sunshine,” she smirks at me and I can’t help but ogle at her lips.
Perfect fucking lips.
“I don’t shit where I eat,” she adds.
Now, this is funny, so this time I’m the one tipping my head back laughing before I bring my gaze back to her. “You know our General Manager, Sloane Knightley?”
“Of course,” she replies, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“She’s with Alex, right-winger,” I tell her with a grin. “Now, Brynne Adams, have you met her yet?”
“The Athletic Trainer?”
“That’s the one, and she’s dating Matt, left-winger.”
“What?” Her jaw drops and it’s the cutest fucking sight. I’ve always thought of myself as a tits-man, but apparently now I’m a jaws-man too.
“Oh I’m not done yet,” I smirk at her. “Sarah Jones, Head of Equipment Manager, do you know her?”
She nods. “I’ve met her twice.”
“She’s with Mitch, right defenseman. Now, you probably haven’t met this one yet, but our goalie, Adam, is the only one married between us first-line players. His wife, Rachel, is the head of our in-house legal team. So look around Doc, everyone’s bloody shitting and eating around here,” I finish with a grin.
“Yeah, that doesn’t change a thing,” she insists. “That won’t be me.”
I give her one last glance as I hop off the table before I walk towards the door, pretty sure my eyes glitter with mischief as I say, “yeah, we’ll see, sunshine.”
—
The Owner’s Box is a local sports bar in El Segundo. Located only a stone’s throw away from the team’s practice facility at Toyota Sports Center, it has become the go-to hangout for a lot of the players ever since the facility opened in 2000. I like this place because it carries 140 types of beer and I like beer, and honestly the food is great as well.
As much as we like to mix and mingle with the fans, which is super fucking cool in my opinion, the manager always ropes off an area on the second floor for the players so we can drink and chill out without fans swamping us. Usually when we arrive, we’ll hang around the first-floor bar area for a bit to give the fans an opportunity to take pictures and ask for autographs before we head upstairs.
It’s always crowded after the game because everyone knows they can find us here, but it always gets extra busy whenever we win. Tonight, there’s an actual line of people waiting to get inside.
I nod at a bouncer and enter, and it takes me a good half an hour to make it to the second floor where I find several of my teammates sitting at some of the tables or standing around talking.
Winding around tables, teammates, and hot women since several puck bunnies have been allowed to go up the second floor and are doing their best to get noticed by the players wearing outfits that fit them like a second skin, I make my way over to Alex and Matt who are already sitting at one of the tables nursing their beers. Those two are my best friends since we’re linemates, but normally I’d go stand over with the single guys and start my selection process for whatever woman who’d warm my bed for the night.
Not tonight though. Never thought this day would come but I’m not here for a hookup tonight.
Alex gives me a knowing grin as I sit down since I told him in the locker room after the game about my exchange with the hot doctor earlier when she tended to my cut and how she turned me down. Well, he and several other of my teammates since there were a few there in the locker room with us and they had ears to listen. I’m pretty sure I could even hear Mitch chuckle, which is honestly one of the world’s seven wonders since the guy barely talks let alone laughs.
“How’s that cut feeling?” Matt asks as I take a seat in front of him.
“Feels like a butterfly kissed me there,” I tell him, which gets a deep belly laugh from both him and Alex. We hockey players would never admit to being hurt in a fight. Ever.
The voices in the second floor immediately go silent and I see all eyes swing towards the stairs, and when I look there I see our General Manager walks in alongside Coach Higgins, followed by some staff of the team. Cheers start ringing as she walks towards our table, no doubt to sit next to her man, and then I hear a low chant, “Sloane! Sloane! Sloane! Sloane!”
Matt and I do the same since not only Sloane is more of a close friend rather than a boss who signs our paycheck once she steps outside of the GM office, but as the only female GM in the league, she managed to turn our team into champions. We won the Stanley Cup last season and no doubt she’s going to push us to victory again this season. Alex has a shit-eating grin plastered across his face as his gaze focuses on his girl, looking so damn proud of her. Man, my best friend is fucking whipped.
Sloane blushes, slides a grin to Alex, and when the sound dissipates and the guys all start sitting back down, she says, “shut up you big jerks, do you want me to cry?”
We all bark in laughter.
I stand up to give her access to the booth so she can sit between Alex and I, and Alex immediately wraps his arm around her shoulders when she’s within his reach to pull her closer to him and proceeds to give her a searing kiss. I whip my head at Matt and we both make a fake gagging noise.
“God, I think I’m going to be sick,” Matt says and Alex flips him off, still giving his woman a hell of a kiss and without even looking at us.
“I know, right? Not used to you being so fucking mushy mate,” I add. “Gives me the willies.”
Sloane laughs as she breaks the kiss. She leans over and playfully punches me in the arm. “You’ll have a good woman one day, Harry.”
“Yeah,” I drawl, then I give a faux shudder to make sure they understand I like being single. “No thanks.”
“You sure?” Matt cocks an eyebrow, but before I can reply, something behind me catches his attention. “Ooh, isn’t that the new doctor?”
I whip around so fast I fucking knock a bottle of ketchup off the table and it goes flying across the floor. Matt is laughing so damn hard he almost falls off from the booth, Alex is leaning over as he laughs, pressing one palm down on the sofa with the other to his ribs as if they hurt from laughing and Sloane is dabbing at her eyes as she laughs hysterically.
But yes, holy shit, that’s the doctor stepping off the stairs and onto the second floor with Brynne and Sarah. Now, I know Brynne will most definitely walk towards our table since Matt is here, but Sarah will most definitely walk towards the bar where Mitch is talking with some other guys.
Come here. Come here. Come here.
Fuck, she goes with Sarah to the bar.
“Oh no,” Alex says low and in warning. “I know that look.”
I don’t bother to give him my attention, keeping my eyes pinned on my girl. But I do ask him, “what look?”
“Your gaze just became predatory,” he says with a laugh.
“God, you have it bad for her,” Sloane teases but I ignore her as I stand up. Brynne gives me a wink when I walk past her and now I have a suspicion that my teammates blabbed to their women about what happened earlier tonight and now they’re trying to set me and the hot doctor up. Otherwise, why would she even be here? Fucking crazy, I know, but they’re all nuts.
“Go get her, tiger!” Matt quips as I walk towards the bar without looking back at their table.
The doctor has ditched the white lab coat that she wore earlier tonight at the arena, and I’m glad she has her back to me since I don’t make a secret of my ogling. My eyes are pinned to her ass in those skinny jeans and fucks sake I need to get a grip.
“Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine,” I say with a smile as I stand next to her, trying to get her attention. That was lame, I know, and I feel like I want to punch myself for not being cool.
She laughs and fuck if that’s not the best sound in the world. It’s warm, rich, and husky, which warms my blood and speaks to my dick for some reason. Not sure if she’s laughing because she genuinely thinks I’m funny or is that just a pity laugh, but honestly I could listen to her laughing all day. Wouldn’t be opposed to hearing her moan one day, preferably with her underneath me, but if her laugh is all I can get at this moment then I’ll take it.
“Can I get you a drink?” I ask her and I mentally prepare myself for her to decline since she turned me down earlier in the arena, so it totally takes me by surprise when she only shrugs and says, “eh, why not.”
I’m sure my smile is ten times wider and she sees it. “What’s your poison?”
“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
“What if I want the hard stuff?” I raise a single brow. “Sure you want that?”
“What?” She smirks at me and my inner caveman is screaming for me at the sight to just throw her over my shoulder and take her home right this instant. But obviously I won’t do that, since I’m pretty sure that’s called kidnapping and I know I won’t look good in prison stripes. “You don’t think I can take it?”
“Oh honey, I know you can take it,” I laugh as I lift my finger to the bartender. “I’m only wondering how you’ll handle it.”
“Well, you’re gonna have to wait and see.”
—
It’s three hours and many beers later, well for her anyway since I limit myself at two because I’m driving, and we’re stumbling out of the bar, laughing our asses off.
She’s telling me about the funniest thing that happened at the hospital a few months ago. At the beginning they thought they had a domestic situation because the couple came separately; one via ambulance and one via police car. But when they finally got the whole story, it turned out to be an anniversary celebration gone wrong since the wife had a seizure when she was going down on her husband and bit down on him.
“Are you joking?!” I stare at her, mouth gaping in astonishment before I burst out laughing hysterically.
She shakes her head and laughs with me. “I wish.”
“Did you manage to save his manhood?” I ask with a half-grin and half grimace.
“My colleague did,” she replies. “I was busy with the wife, she had rather extensive head trauma.”
“From the seizure?”
“Well, in panic and pain, her husband didn’t think much and just grabbed the closest thing he could find to try to get her to loosen her bite, which sadly was an old rotary style telephone and hit her in the head with it. She was okay in the end, though.”
“That’s one hell of an anniversary to remember for sure,” I chuckle, and the giggle she emits pretty much confirms she’s bladdered. Well, not the kind of drunk where she wouldn’t remember tonight I’m sure, but I bet she’ll wake up with a massive headache.
“I sure hope you’re not driving,” I say as I steady her by the elbow when she wobbles as we step down the stairs.
“Sarah, Brynne and I took an Uber here from the arena earlier,” she mutters as she pulls out her phone from her handbag.
“Let me drive you home,” I quickly say before she gets the chance to order a ride. Not sure why I did that because I certainly have never offered women a ride home without the promise of getting in their knickers, and I can assure you that I won’t be getting anywhere near hers tonight, but maybe I just don’t want this night to end yet.
We’ve been glued at the hip from the moment I bought her first drink, and three hours purely just talking with the same woman? That’s a record in my book. While I’m not ashamed to admit that I also like looking at her, honestly, to me that’s just an added bonus. I think it’s safe to say that I have never met anyone like her before. Granted, with most women usually there wasn’t much talking, but from what I learnt in just the span of three hours is that this doctor of mine is a hell of a lot of fun.
I swear she’s just a pure fucking joy to be around. Conversation with her is like a never-ending merry-go-round and she makes me laugh a lot. She’s bright and witty and she’s one of those people that knows no strangers. She can easily talk about anything from politics to sports even to crude jokes, and add on to that, she’s just so kind and inclusive that several times tonight I actually had to drag her away to one of the back tables so we could have a proper chat without the crowd around us.
“You don’t have to,” she gives me a hesitantly sweet smile.
“But I want to,” I gallantly insist as I turn and offer my arm to her. “Come on, I just want to make sure you get home safe.”
“Well, alright then,” she smirks, her hand easily slides into the crook of my elbow. “I could save a few bucks.”
I roll my eyes and tease her, “didn’t take you to be such a skinflint.”
“Hey!” She playfully slaps my arm with her other hand as she laughs and I’m glad I amuse her.
No, seriously... I like her laugh.
There’s no doubt that she wants me, just as there’s no doubt that I totally want her. We’ve got this really heavy flirting going on all night, and plenty of innuendo, but I won’t be surprised nor disappointed if she doesn’t invite me inside when we get to her home and nothing happens tonight.
We’ll get there, I’m sure.
Until then, I’m completely fine drinking beer, being her personal chauffeur, and getting to know her a little better.
—
We always finish team practice with battle drills. From the end zone face-off spot to either the left or right of the goalie, we pair up and battle for a goal. One on offense, the other on defense, we shoulder, bump, and juke our way across the short distance to the net. It’s a four to five second drill that will make us sweat, and then it’s over. We skate to the end of the line, where we wait to do it again.
“Saw you left with the new doctor last night,” says Matt, my battle partner today, with a shit-eating grin as he taps his stick against my leg. “How was she?”
I ignore his question not only because I don’t have the answer that he’s looking for because nothing really happened after I dropped her in front of her house, but also because this feels different. She is different. Had it been just another one night stand, I wouldn’t think twice before I blab all about the dirty details with my teammates. Great lays, lousy lays, I honestly have no filter and I tell them all.
But this is YN, and fuck if I know why and what this really means. All I know for sure is that I want more than to just tap that. The thing is, my teammates will probably not understand because they can’t really see past the fact that the new doctor is a gorgeous woman who I’ve been lusting after for about a week.
“Dude,” Matt says to get a reaction from me, smacking me a little bit harder with his stick. “How many times did you score her last night?”
“Don’t talk about her like that,” I growl.
“Whoa, dude,” he apologises and I swear his grin gets even wider. “Sorry. I guess you’re serious about her?”
“Serious about what?” Alex pipes up from in front of us. He’s paired with Adam, our goalie. There are four pairs of skaters in front of Matt and me, but there’s an equal number on the other side. We’re alternating.
“None of your fucking business,” I mutter, willing the line we’re in to go faster so I can escape from my nosy teammates and head to the doctor’s office.
Alex and Adam take off, Alex with the puck. They ram their shoulders into each other, legs braced and skates digging hard all the way to the net.
“Did you at least kiss her?” Matt nudges me with a sly grin, still trying. Man, he’s not a quitter.
“No,” I answer shortly, hoping that will satisfy him. “Just dropped her at her house and left after I made sure she got inside safely.”
“No. Fucking. Way,” he quips dramatically. “Who are you and what have you done to my teammate?”
Play continues, the next set of skaters in our line taking off and I ignore Matt but apparently he’s not done poking his nose in my business. “Oh, we’re not done yet buddy. Let’s go out tonight so we can squeeze some more gos out of you. Just you, Alex and I, how does that sound? Brynne said the girls are going to have a girls night out so I know he’ll be game.”
The girls means my teammates’ better halves, and honestly, hanging out with just my bros does sound good. Don’t get me wrong, those girls are cool—yes, my boss, Sloane, included—and they’re fun to hang out with. My teammates sure hit the jackpots with their women. But before Sloane and Brynne came along, the three of us were thick as thieves. There was a time where we went out almost every night and that’s why we’re more like brothers than teammates. Sometimes I miss that since we don’t get the chance to do it as often now that they act like old married couples, so yes, this does sound nice.
However, as tempting as it sounds, I want to hang out with my hot doctor more than my mates. That is if she’ll have me though.
“I can’t,” I say, clearing my throat. I lean in towards him and whisper, “I want to take YN out to dinner tonight.”
“Seriously,” he drawls dramatically. “Who are you and what have you done to my best friend?”
Again, I ignore his comment.
“Alright, I guess that’s a definite no to dinner with me and Alex then, huh?” Matt says in an exaggeratedly glum tone.
“The doctor is way prettier than you,” I reply blandly.
“Fine, go on your date,” he says with a slap on my back. “But I want to book some time with my best friend in the near future if it’s not too much trouble.”
“We’re going on a four day road trip in two weeks,” I mutter as I roll my eyes at him. “I’ll snuggle you then.”
Matt sidles up to me, lays his head on my shoulder, and bats his eyelashes. “Oooh, I can’t wait.”
I shove him off with a chuckle. That bastard.
—
“Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You’re my only hope,” I say after two knocks on her office door. I can hear her chuckle as she tells me to come in.
God, I have turned into such a dork. But I like hearing her laugh and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to hear that sound again and again.
“Hey,” she smiles at me as she looks up from her computer. “What’s wrong?”
“Knee’s a little sore,” I tell her, not feeling the slightest bit of guilt for my lie just so I can have a few moments to talk to her. “Thought you could take a look at it.”
Her brows draw inward with concern and she motions towards a table. “Did something happen?”
“Nah,” I shake my head as I hop onto the table with my legs hanging over the edge and kick off my slides. “Just came off the ice and noticed it.”
“Alright, go ahead and lie back,” she says as she turns to the sink and washes her hands. “I’m going to do some range-of-motion tests.”
I stay silent as she maneuvers my leg, trying not to focus too much on the feel of her soft hands against me or the smell of her perfume. Fuck, she smells good. Fruity and flowery. Like berries and the heart of rose and bitter wormwood, and the scent is fucking delicious.
“Do you feel any pain when I do this?” She asks with one hand on my calf, the other on my thigh as she rotates my knee.
“Not really,” I shake my head. What happens here today will go in my chart and I don’t want to call any attention to my knee.
“How about this?” She asks, rotating the opposite way.
I shake my head again. “Nope.”
The hand on my calf slides down, grasping the bottom of my foot firmly. With the other hand still holding onto my thigh, she pushes hard into my foot. “This cause any pain?”
“Nope,” I say quickly, and then add, “I think it’s nothing more than my muscles getting back in shape. But I figure some ice can’t hurt, right?”
She slowly lowers my leg and gives me a sweet smile. “Well, I don’t think anything’s loose or torn, but if you’re worried about it, I can schedule an appointment with Dr Green.”
She is the team’s orthopaedic surgeon, and hell I’m not about to do that. Talk about an unnecessary red flag. “I think it’s just a lack of conditioning. Got lazy this summer.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” I nod firmly. “I just need some ice and I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
“Well, alright then,” she says as she turns back to wash her hands again at the sink. “I’ll let Brynne know and have her prepare you an ice bath.”
“Oh hell no,” I quickly shake my head and grimace. “That bloody thing is pure torture and my balls will go into hibernation until next summer. Just an ice pack will do, Doc.”
She laughs again. “Okay, just an ice pack. I’ll be right back.”
She turns and heads through the door to the treatment room and I take a moment to admire her gracefulness as she moves. She looks delectable today in her scrubs, which are the typical light blue you see in the hospitals, and they hang on her tiny frame loosely. I’d actually never seen her in them before since she usually just wears normal clothes underneath her white lab coat in the arena, but I swear this might possibly be the sexiest outfit I’ve ever seen her in. I’m sure that has to do with the fact that I respect her so much as a doctor that it just heightens my attraction to her, and I can’t help but wonder if she’ll play dress-up games with me in the bedroom when the time comes. Because, well… I certainly wouldn’t mind getting a thorough exam from her.
“Here you go,” she says when she comes back. “Scoot back on the table and stretch your leg out. Keep this on for twenty minutes, then you can go.”
She places a towel over my knee, then lays the bag of ice on top.
“Thanks, Doc,” I tell her.
“Just doing my job,” she quips, and then walks back over to the box of supplies she had been unloading.
“Well, you’re very good at it,” I add and I can hear her chuckle. But I got nothing in response, so I add, “speaking about good things… I had a good time last night.”
“Did you?” She quips, still not looking at me but I can hear from her tone that she’s smiling.
“Well, yeah,” I say with a confident nod. “Didn’t you?”
“Eh, it was alright,” she smirks at me over her shoulder as she walks towards her desk.
“I want to do that again,” I tell her nonchalantly before I ask with a lopsided grin that I hope she finds charming, “will you let me take you to dinner tonight?”
“I can’t,” she shakes her head as she turns to look at me.
“Why? Got a hot date already?”
“Nah,” she chuckles. “Sarah invited me to a girls night at her place. I wasn’t gonna go because they seem like a tight-knit group and I don’t want to intrude, but Sloane came by here earlier to ask me again and she’s bribing me with tacos and margaritas, and well… I can’t say no to both.”
“Fair enough,” I laugh. “But have fun then. They’re all really nice, you’ll fit right in.”
“Thanks,” she gives me an easy smile, and I hope it’s subtle enough that she doesn’t realise this, but my breath actually hitch a little while I stare at her lips.
“How about tomorrow night then?”
“Well-” she begins, but she’s cut short when she hears her pager beeping. “Oh shit, I need to go back to the hospital. You think you’re okay there? Go to Brynne if you need something else.”
“Okay, don’t worry,” I tell her with an encouraging smile. “You go and save some lives, Doc.”
—
The arena is packed, the fans are at a fever pitch, and we’re in the midst of a fierce battle with the Anaheim Ducks. We’d taken them on in the first round of the playoffs last season, and while we swept them, they’re still a formidable opponent. Not to mention there’s a long-standing rivalry between the two teams, and add on to that, we’re in the regular season now so every win counts. The pressure is on.
As a center, I’m a shooter, not a fighter. That means I’m relied on to score, not to play defense or get tough with other players. My body is too valuable to mess it up in a slugfest, so I’m rarely enticed into a fight. Sometimes it takes everything in me to keep my cool, but I know I’ve got to trust Mitch and Marcel, our defensemen.
Just like right now. We’re late in the second period tonight, and one of the Ducks players, Jeff Azoff, is being a dick. He cross-checked me in the back, not strong enough to slam me into the boards, but it was enough to alert Mitch who’s skating right behind us.
“Do that again and I’m going to kick your ass,” I hear Mitch tell him. That guy doesn’t really talk, but he wouldn’t think twice before beating the hell out of someone if they mess with our team. He takes his job as a defenseman seriously. When he’s on the ice, nobody dares to touch his guys.
The fucker did it again, still not forceful enough for a penalty to be called, but Mitch was quick to drop his gloves and took on that Azoff guy. He kicked his ass good.
Man, I wouldn’t want to get on his bad side. Mitch is a badass. Unfortunately though, the fucker did land a lucky hit to his temple and his skin split just to the side of his eyebrow. Knowing Mitch, that will be nothing but a ten-minute trip to the treatment room where YN will stitch him up. I’m sure as hell he wouldn’t let her give him anaesthetic so he can get back on the ice as soon as possible. As I watch him skate towards the exit, I make a mental note in my head to buy him a beer tonight as a thank you.
The play resumed, and there are about forty seconds left on the clock before intermission. The Ducks are down 3-0, and they pull their goalie once they gain possession of the puck since they have nothing to lose. Luckily our stamina is stellar, so our legs are still fresh as we defend.
They pass the puck back and forth, looking for the long shot or a quick dump inside for a goal. My back is to Adam, our goalie, as I keep myself facing the action, letting my stick play loose.
The crowd’s screams escalate in tune to the clock ticking closer to zero. With a sharp flick of the wrist, the puck makes it past Alex, our right-winger, to the inside. Players crash the net, Marcel poke checks, and the biscuit shoots out towards me.
It’s a full-on breakaway as I shoot down the ice, one on one against the goalie.
Tap, tap, tap… back and forth… puck to blade of stick.
I close in on the goalie and juke left.
He goes left and I juke right.
He keeps going left, so I keep going right and flip the puck up and over his shoulder into the back of the net. The red light burns bright behind the net and the fans go wild. That was my third goal tonight, and it’s the perfect timing for intermission since there’s no way we can play with all the hats being thrown onto the ice.
It takes merely a second before I’ve got my teammates surrounding me. Alex, Matt, Marcel, Adam and Niall, one of the defensemen from the second line who’s filling in for Mitch. Pats of their gloved hands on my helmet, stick blades gently against my calves.
We skate to the gate that would lead us to our locker room. We all trudge there, taking up spots around the open space as we wait for Coach Higgins to address us. It’s what he does at the end of every period. If we play poorly, we get our asses handed to us. If we play stellar though, like tonight, he’d be effusive in his praise.
But as much as I’d love to hear nice things from the Coach, there’s nobody I want to see more than my very own Doctor McSteamy. And yes, just to put it out here since I’ve been calling the hot doctor by that nickname, I’ve got to admit that I did watch too much Grey’s Anatomy in the summer because there’s not much I could do during the off-season. My sister didn’t let me watch past season 10 though, because she said it’s not worth it.
“Need to get my knee taped,” I tell Alex on my right as I stand up. We have 17 minutes before we start the third period and I figure that should be enough time to see the Doctor and secure a date in the near future. “I’ll be right back.”
“Bullshit,” he grins and there’s a clear amusement in his eyes. “You want to see your girlfriend.”
“Shut up,” I growl.
“What’s this?” Matt asks curiously as he takes a seat next to Alex.
“Our buddy here wants to see his girlfriend,” Alex’s grin doesn’t lessen as he tilts his head at me. “Needs to get his knee taped, he said.”
“Conjugal visit in-between periods? Classy,” Matt says with a salacious grin and I glare at him. When his laughter dies down, he points out, “okay, jokes aside, that’s a shit excuse. If you really need your knee taped, you’d see Brynne and not YN.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve got nothing else here,” I grumble like a stroppy child. “Can’t hit my own head just to get a cut, can I?”
“That would be outright dumb,” Alex laughs. “But come on, I’ll go to Brynne and make up something so at least you can tell the doctor that she’s busy.”
The treatment room is just down the hall from the locker, and when I get there, I notice the door is half open. I see her sitting on the little desk with her computer, so I knock lightly on the door to get her attention.
“Hey, you got a minute?” Her head swings up when she hears my voice and it takes everything in me not to just march there and kiss the fuck out of her when she offers me the sweetest smile. Crazy how much effect this woman has on me. “I need my knee taped but Brynne’s busy.”
“Sure, I was just reading the players’ medical chart,” she replies. “You were on fire out there by the way.”
“Thanks, Doc,” I smile at her.
“Skates, socks, shin pads and pants off,” she says as she walks towards the supply cabinet.
“Jock strap too?” I can’t help but smirk.
“No,” she rolls her eyes playfully as she grabs a towel and hands it to me. “Put this over your lap.”
“Do I have to?”
“Well, yeah, unless you want me to get a peek of your dick.”
“You know I wouldn’t be averse to that, Doc,” I say with a waggle of my eyebrows.
She gives me a school teacher, disapproving-type look but the slight twitch of amusement in the corner of her mouth is hard to miss. “You’re so bad.”
“You have no idea,” I grin, but she doesn’t see it because she has her back to me. She’s pulling another cabinet open to get adhesive, gauze and tape before knocking it close with her shoulder.
This is ridiculous but I’m actually a bit self-conscious of getting practically half naked in front of the hot doctor. I have absolutely no clue why and this had certainly never happened before.
I shed my gear from the waist down and she keeps her back to me until I get on the therapy table and the towel is covering my lap. She lays out her supplies on the table beside us, her slender fingers using a pair of scissors to open a new package of tape.
I take a moment to admire her as she cuts off uniform lengths of tape and attaches them to the table. She’s not in the scrubs I saw her in last week, but if you think I’d be disappointed, even just slightly, then you’d be wrong because you could put her in a burlap sack and to me she would still absolutely look edible.
Tonight, she’s rocking a mustard-yellow trouser suit with wide legs and a cross-over pleated blouse underneath her white lab coat. The crisscross swath of silk that wraps around her upper body does lovely things to her tits, and I realise I’m quite the pig to be thinking about her this way.
“Left knee?” She asks. “I’ve just finished reading your medical chart when you came in. Arthroscopic medical meniscus repair two years ago.”
“Yeah,” I nod. “Sometimes it feels a little loose. A good taping is all it needs.”
“Any soreness?” She asks as she steps up in between my legs that dangle over the table.
I shake my head and say, “nope.”
“Clicking or popping?”
“Nope.”
“Locking?” She inquires as she lifts her face up to mine.
She’s fucking close enough I can smell her minty breath. I could easily kiss her, but I’d probably get kneed in the nuts, so I just shake my head and say, “nah, just feels a little loose.”
“Okay,” she says, laying a soft pat on my thigh. It’s nothing but a move of reassurance, but fuck if I don’t feel it all the way through my gut.
She grabs her supplies and I can’t keep my eyes off her as she gets to work taping my knee. It takes merely a few minutes, and then she finishes the wrap, holding the end while taping it with the precut pieces. “There you go,” she says, stepping back.
“I’ve got something to confess. My knee was absolutely fine,” I blurt out, the words popping out of my mouth so suddenly, I’ve got no clue where they came from. Clearly my subconscious decided to overtake my sensibility and make itself known. “I came here because I wanted to see you. Thought I’d try to get your phone number and a date one last time before I give up.”
She gives a tinkling laugh. “You’re not a quitter, are you?”
“Well, no,” I reply with a grin. “So, tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at seven. How does that sound?”
“Listen,” she smiles at me sweetly as she begins, but I don’t like the sound of it. Nothing good ever comes after ‘listen’. “You’re a nice guy-”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I cut her as I hold my hands up. “Don’t go with the ‘nice guy’ brush off. Clearly I’m not if you won’t give me the time of day.”
“I just don’t think we’re looking for the same thing-”
“What?” I ask incredulously.
“Look, please don’t take this the wrong way, but you seem more like the bang ‘em and leave ‘em type to me.”
“Is that really how people see me?” I ask her curiously, without an ounce of defense in my voice because there’s no point in denying that. I really don’t care what people think, but I’d like to hear her opinion.
“You’re a player, Harry,” she says with a chuckle. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. You’re young and in your prime. You should totally be sowing all your wild oats. It’s just… I’m at the point in my life where I realise that meaningless sex without something deeper isn’t very fulfilling. I don’t want that anymore.”
I feel a metaphorical light bulb goes off in my head.
I know she doesn’t mean to, but fuck, she hits me right where it hurts. She’s called that exactly right. This is something that I’ve actually realised and known for a while, especially after seeing my best mates being the happiest they’ve ever been after they found their women. There’s not an ounce of regret in what I did though, because just like my girl right here said, there’s nothing wrong with that. There was a time when burning my way through all the hot women in LA and having them take turns warming my bed had its appeal, but not anymore.
Maybe this is why I’ve been feeling unfulfilled lately. I know I’ve got a great career, more money than I could ever need in a lifetime and endless selection of gorgeous women to warm my bed every night. What more could a man possibly ask for, right? But at the end of the day, it’s just me in a monstrosity of a house that I call home.
Maybe deep down I know I don’t want it to be just me anymore.
“I think I’ve actually known that for a while, but the way you point that out, I think it’s drilled home now,” I admit as I face her.
“What do you mean?”
“That casual, meaningless sex without something deeper isn’t very fulfilling,” I say with a smile. “I mean, yes what I did was fun, but then I look at my best mates and see how happy they are with their women. Of course I rib them good because hey, that’s my job as their best mate…”
She laughs.
“...but that doesn’t mean I never look at them and think, fuck, I want that one day. Maybe the idea didn’t really appeal to me because I had never found the right person, who knows. But I swear I don’t want just sex with you. I want more. Do I know what I’m doing? Fuck, no. I haven’t even been on a proper date in years. But I do know that I genuinely want to get to know you better, Doc, that is if you give me the chance.”
She gives me a dopey smile when she asks, “you mean all that?”
“I really do,” I nod solemnly. “Now let me prove it to you. Go on a date with me.”
“Tell you what,” she begins, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “If you go back on the ice and win the game, we can go to The Owner’s Box when you’re done to celebrate just like the other night. And if you behave, I’ll give you my number this time.”
“Want me to behave, huh?” I say teasingly with a waggle of my eyebrows. “Don’t fancy a bad boy?”
“Oh I actually have it bad for bad boys,” she smirks. “My favourite character in Harry Potter is Draco Malfoy.”
“Okay, I’ve got a counter offer,” I say as my laughter dies down. “If I get MVP tonight, which I’m pretty sure I will since you said it yourself that I’m on fire tonight, you give me your number straight away after the game and let me take you out to dinner. I’m thinking seven tomorrow night.”
Another roll of those gorgeous eyes that twinkle slightly at me. “Pushy, aren’t ya?”
“Only when I want something,” I tell her with a grin. “And I want you.”
“So do you want me or do you want to go out with me?” She asks slyly, tilting her head to the side.
“You gonna kick my balls if I say both?”
“I admire honesty,” she murmurs softly in that sexy, husky voice that seems to flow through my body and straight down to my dick.
“Hey boyfriend and girlfriend,” I hear Matt chirps from the doorway and my spine stiffens involuntarily. His shit-eating grin doesn’t lessen a bit even when I give him a glare. “Hate to steal your man, Doc, but the game is starting again soon and we kinda need our favourite asshole right here.”
“You two break a leg,” she chuckles. And then as an afterthought, she adds, “just so we’re clear, I don’t mean that literally.”
—
Manhattan Beach’s high-end strip of boutiques and restaurants are hugged by the beach on one side and some of California’s most expensive real estate on the other. It’s southern end blends seamlessly into smaller Hermosa Beach, which is similarly quiet but has a tight concentration of bars and restaurants near the town’s pier that attract bar-hoppers at night and sun-bleached dropouts during the day.
The Kings players’ houses are scattered evenly across the two towns. Some of us are clustered within a block or two of several teammates; others sprinkled little more than a mile or two away. All but one of the first-line players live in Manhattan Beach though, and we can easily walk or ride a beach cruiser to everyone else’s house.
YN lives in Silver Lake, and the drive to pick her up takes me about forty minutes. I know she must make a pretty good bank being an ER doctor, not to mention that she works at two places, but her house doesn’t scream that. It’s rather tiny, I’m betting not more than seven or eight hundred square feet max, and there’s not much of a porch but on the outer edge is a hanging basket of flowers.
There’s no doorbell so I rap my knuckles on the door. Flecks of peeling paint get knocked loose and fall to the concrete porch.
“Coming,” I hear her yell from inside and I can imagine her plopping in an earring, grabbing her handbag, and wondering if she turned the curling iron off. She sounds frazzled and rushed and I can’t wait to fucking see what she looks like when she opens the door.
And there she is.
She has a black dress on, and it’s not little but it’s spectacular. The neckline of the dress skims just below her collarbone so no skin or cleavage is exposed, but it doesn’t matter because the narrow waist and flared hips, all cocooned in black is sexy as shit. The hem of her dress comes down below her knees and the dress is so well fitted that I know there has to be a slit up the back so she can walk.
“Good grief you’re a sight for sore eyes,” I mutter as I let my eyes roam down and then back up again to find her smirking at me.
She’s got an off-white clutch bag tucked under an arm, and her head is leaning to the side so she can put her last earring in, exactly as I’d imagined.
“You’re not too bad yourself,” she says, still smirking at me. I’d worn my best suit tonight in black with black shirt underneath and no tie. Glad she likes what she sees.
I step back so she can lock her door, and she turns to me as she tosses her keys in her clutch. I hold my arm out to her and ask, “ready?”
She nods and smiles as she curls her fingers in just below my biceps, then I escort her to my car.
I’m taking her to this new restaurant that both Alex and Matt recommended when I asked them last night for the finest restaurant in LA. It had been so long since the last time I took a woman out for a proper date, so I knew I needed to ask my mates and that they would have the answer. They both swore by this place called Apron, but then told me it took at least two weeks to get a reservation. Luckily though Alex had booked a table for him and Sloane tonight, and they gladly gave me the reservation. Sure I had to take a good deal of ribbing from my teammates and their women last night at the bar where we celebrated our win, but I knew it would be worth it.
The drive to the restaurant is short, only about ten minutes. And we lapse into the same easy conversation right away, just like we did the other night at The Owner’s Box. Today was my day off and I did absolutely nothing so I’ve got nothing interesting to tell, but she had plenty of exciting cases at the emergency room today, which included a toddler swallowing a penny.
“Holy shit, how did you get the coin out?” I ask her.
She laughs. “You don’t take it out. You’ve got to let the kid pass it naturally.”
“He can do that?”
“Well,” she begins. “I did take an X-ray first to make sure that it was small and could pass safely.”
“Okay, okay, okay… what’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever had to remove from a patient?” I ask her with childish curiosity.
“Honestly, I think I’ve removed everything on the surface of the earth,” she snickers. “Coke bottle, tapeworms, coins, candles, but the strangest has got to be a stuffed animal. It was a Curious George doll, and… let’s just say that he’s no longer curious.”
“You’re joking right?” I bark in laughter as I park my car. We’ve arrived and I swear that was the shortest ten minutes of my life. “I mean… who does that?!”
“I wish,” she says with a wrinkle of her nose. “You’d be surprised if you know how many weirdos out there.”
I’m still chuckling as I exit my car, then I walk over to the passenger side to get her. I hold my arm out to her, and her hand so very easily slides into the crook of my elbow.
“You don’t think I’m one of them, right?”
She gives me a playful shrug. “Well, I don’t know, you might be a weirdo... I mean, I don’t know you well enough yet.”
I give her a smart-ass smirk. “Let’s remedy that then.”
—
“How’s that one?” I ask her as I finish a mouthful of this chocolate thingy. It was a chocolate ball concoction the waiter had poured more hot chocolate over, which then melted the ball to reveal a raspberry chocolate torte inside. She had a bite, but it was too rich for her. I agree though, it was a lot of damn chocolate.
“You’ve got to try this,” she says, spearing the lemon meringue pie with her fork, top it with a little bit of pine nut ice cream and holding it over the table to me.
It’s a completely intimate move and one that I didn’t expect from her tonight. I mean, she was reluctant to go out with me in the beginning and needed some convincing, so I expected her to be reserved and cautious. But hell I’m not complaining.
I lean in and let her feed me the dessert. The flavours explode on my tongue and I think that’s the best we’ve had tonight.
I don’t normally indulge in dessert, but they all sound good so I told her we should order all the ones we like the sound of. Which was most of them except that cucumber mousse and pickle ice cream because those sound like disasters on a plate.
“Good, huh?” She asks with a smile.
“Really good,” I tell her. “I think I like that one best.”
“Finish it then,” she says as she pushes the plate towards me. “I can’t possibly take another bite. I’m stuffed to the brim.”
“Alright,” I say with a chuckle as I pull the plate closer to me. “So, when are you free again so I can take you out to another date?”
She chuckles. “We’re not even finished with this one.”
I roll my eyes at her, then I ask, “are you having a good time?”
Her smile turns dopey and I know she’s just as smitten with me as I am with her. “This is definitely the best first date I’ve ever been on.”
“If we were finished, considering how things have gone, would you go out with me again?”
“I would.”
“Good,” I say with an emphatic nod. “So, weekend or weekdays? When will it work best for you?”
—
I slow the speed on the treadmill, taking me down from a brisk run to a slow walk so I can cool down. Normally I like to run outside in the morning, but I woke up late this morning and we had a team skate scheduled at ten, so I figured I’d just do my workout afterwards at the arena.
Only a few of us actually have a gym membership outside. Most of us prefer to work out at the arena because not only is the equipment better, but we also have an abundance of teammates to work out with and that’s always nice.
I walk for about five minutes to cool down, then I turn the machine off and wipe my face with a towel. I grab my phone and water bottle and turn for the barbells, as today I’m working my chest and shoulders. Mitch and Marcel are already lifting, both defensemen who tend to focus on brute strength versus speed and stamina, so I’m not surprised they didn’t go for the treadmill. I also see Matt there, and I bet Alex will join us too after he’s done cooling down.
“Have a nice run, princess?” Marcel asks dryly as I set my stuff down near the bench press.
“I’m not the one who has to prove my manhood by how much weight I can lift,” I return with a sly grin.
“Yeah, well, your manhood is in a dry spell,” he says as he loads some weight onto the bar. Pre the hot doctor, both Marcel and I were the only single guys in the first line. He’s just as much as a player—on and off the ice—as I was, but now I gladly pass the title to him.
“Not true,” Matt quips with a grin. “He went on a date last night.”
“No shit,” Marcel turns to me in astonishment. “With who?”
Before I can even answer Alex throws a quick glance at us, flashes a shit-eating grin, and yells from the treadmill, “the new doctor.”
“But I saw you two got pretty cosy at The Owner’s Box last week,” Marcel says, as if he’s still confused as hell.
“Well yeah, she was cool, so I took her out again,” I say firmly.
“Dude, what’s wrong with you?” He blinks at me. Eyes all round and not comprehending. “You never look at the same woman twice.”
“So?” I ask, playing dumb.
“Ooh, I get it,” he says with a smirk. “Pussy that good, huh?”
“Hey,” I cut in with a warning. “I’m not there yet.”
They all suddenly stop whatever they’re doing and turn to me with raised eyebrows. Yes, Mitch included, which I’m actually quite surprised.
“Whoa, hang on,” Marcel says. “You haven’t tapped that yet?”
“You’re serious?” Matt looks at me in disbelief. “Not even last night?”
“Dude, I gave you that reservation last night to give you the opportunity,” Alex says as he walks towards us. “I was genuinely worried about your balls.”
They’re still looking at me confused, but Adam howls with laughter. “Don’t listen to these pigs. Rachel and I took it real slow at the beginning of our relationship too, and I got to tell you, the anticipation was half the fun.”
It’s true. I’m in no rush with YN because I know we’ll get there sooner or later. I can be patient when I want to be, and right now I honestly want to. I want to prove to her that when I said I wanted to get to know her, I meant her as a person and not just carnally.
I could tell that I confused her last night when I dropped her off at her doorstep after our date. I gave her nothing but a soft, brief kiss to her cheek, then told her to get inside, lock up and get some rest. Sure, she was confused for a few seconds, but the smile that I got after she realised that I really did want to take things slow was so much more than worth it.
“So you think this thing with the hot doctor is going to go the distance?” Matt asks me.
“I do,” I say confidently. I’m not dumb enough not to realise that she hasn’t fully let her guard down yet for whatever reason. Maybe she’d been badly hurt in the past, maybe it’s my past that causes her to be a little bit sceptical, I mean... let’s be honest, I was a player through and through. But that doesn’t scare me though, because I know I’m in it for the long haul. So yes, I can say it with confidence that this thing between us is going to go the distance.
“Well, if you fuck it up, I’ve got the first crack at her,” Marcel says with a salacious grin. I don’t think twice before I grab my wet towel and throw it at him. It hits him right in the face, and my teammates howl with laughter.
All this talk about her makes me want to see her again. I’ve secured a second date last night for next Wednesday since that’s when both of us will be free, but that’s still four days away and I can’t wait that long. So I pull up my phone and type out a quick text to her.
Hey, what are you doing today?
I grab my water bottle and take a slug. Before I put my water bottle down, I already got a response. I need to go and get a new bed frame. Really can’t stand this old thing anymore.
I can’t help but chuckle. She did tell me last night about her bedroom set which was apparently really old, but she couldn’t get rid of it since it’d been in the family for a few generations and her grandmother gave it to her when she bought her house.
Want some company? I quickly type.
She’s just as fast in her response. You want to go with me buy a bed frame?
Well, yeah. I’ve finished the team skate this morning and will be done with my workout soon. I’ve got nothing to do after and I want to see you. I reply.
Alright then. She texts me back within a minute. But I’m on-call though so I can be called to the hospital any time.
Doesn’t matter, I still want to see you. I text her back. When can I pick you up?
Give me half an hour.
Perfect.
—
I’ve bought three houses in my twenty-seven years of life; the one I currently live in, one in Toronto when I was still with the Leafs before I got traded to the Kings and one for my mum back in London. And yet not once have I ever gone on a furniture shopping.
Until today.
That was something I never in a million years would have dreamed to do, simply because I hated shopping with a burning passion. Hell, I didn’t even buy things for my own house because I paid the previous owner to leave everything behind. That kind of thing was honestly just something that I would have never taken the time for.
And yet, in shuffling through my memories, I really can’t remember having such a great time before. All I know is that I don’t want the day to end, and I also know that it has everything to do with the company.
I know we’ve only known each other for a few weeks, and technically we’ve only been on one date even though we saw each other quite often at the arena. But there was nothing odd when my hand would find its way to her thigh, or when she’d drape her arm across my shoulders so her fingers could play with my hair as we cruised along from one furniture shop to another. I love that we’re at ease with each other as if we’d known each other forever, not to mention that she’s also one of the easiest women I’ve had the pleasure of talking to in a long time.
Sadly though, it had to end when she was called to the hospital. Luckily, it was just in time after she chose a particular bed frame that she liked. It’s a classic canopy bed in live-edge oakwood with a brushed brass iron base, and I felt like a pig because even as we were still at the shop, I was already thinking about which ties from my collection would work best.
They offered same-day delivery since they had it in the storage, and since she was needed at the hospital, I offered to wait for the delivery at her home for her. She agreed, so she gave me her key after I dropped her at the hospital.
And here I am. Sitting on her bedroom floor trying to build this bloody nightmare because apparently they didn’t offer assembly service. I’ve been at it for an hour and a half now. Okay, no, more like an hour and ten minutes because I spent about twenty minutes fixing the sink in her en suite. I noticed the faucet was leaking, and I needed to step away from that bloody bed for a little anyway.
Now I don’t have another excuse, so I’m back on hammering one of the bazillion nails into the wood. I’m so focused on the task that I didn’t realise YN is home until I hear her chuckling as she walks into her bedroom and say, “you know, that is the kind of pounding that’s supposed to happen after you’re in the bed.”
I can’t help it. I fucking throw my head back and bust out laughing. “Sod off.”
“You don’t have to do it, that looks complicated. I’ll just hire someone to put it together tomorrow,” she says with a sweet smile. “Just get up and go sit on the couch. I just need to go to the bathroom real quick and then I’ll join you.”
“Yeah, that won’t do, Doc,” I say firmly. “I’ll still finish this bloody thing even if it kills me.”
“Stubborn,” she quips affectionately with a roll of her eyes as she heads towards her en suite.
“Smart-ass,” I reply with my eyes pinned to one of the million pieces of her bed frame, also with affection.
“Harry?” She calls out from her en suite.
“Yeah?” I answer, when I look up, she’s leaning against the doorframe and looking at me confused.
“Am I crazy or did you actually fix my sink?” She asks with an arched eyebrow. “Because I swear the faucet still leaks a little this morning.”
“Yeah, I did,” I say with a wave of my hand. “I needed to walk away from this for a minute and when I went to your en suite, I noticed it leaked. Not a big deal though, took me only about fifteen minutes.”
“Well, good to know that if you ever quit your day job, you have a career in plumbing,” she snickers. “But seriously, you didn’t have to do that, and you certainly don’t have to finish that.”
“It’s what any boyfriend would do, Doc,” I say with a nonchalant shrug.
“You’re not my boyfriend.”
“Yes I am,” I roll my eyes. “I took you on a date last night and I’m taking you out again on Wednesday. I’m not seeing anyone else, so that means we’re dating. And technically that makes me your boyfriend.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she sputters but I can see the amusement twinkling in her eyes. “Besides… I might be seeing someone else.”
“You’re not,” I say with relative certainty.
“How did you change just like that is beyond me,” she murmurs, the appreciation in her voice evident.
I let out a chuckle. “Just get your butt in there and go chill on the couch after. I’m pretty sure I’ll be done in about half an hour, then we can order something for dinner.”
“Yes sir,” she says with a mock salute, which makes me snort.
—
An hour later, her bed is finally built and as I walk into her kitchen I see her putting the plates on the table. It smells phenomenal here, and I’m surprised when I look at the table because how the hell did she manage to cook all that in an hour?
I take advantage of her back facing me by putting my hands at her hips and pressing my chest onto her back. I nuzzle my face into the crook of her neck and it takes everything in me not to kiss her there. The combination of her perfume and the faint smell of antiseptic is sexy to me. So I can’t help but hum and mumble, “smells delicious.”
“The chicken?” She murmurs.
“Among other things,” I reply softly.
She chuckles. “Come on, let’s dig in while it’s still hot.”
I take a seat in front of her before I select a drumstick from a plate of fried, spicy goodness and put it on my plate. There’s something about the fact that YN made it that makes me believe it will be the best chicken I’ve ever had. Today will no doubt go down as one of the best days ever, which I seem to think a lot when I’m around this woman.
As she dishes me some salad, I honestly can’t wait anymore and take a bite of the chicken. Her eyes snap to me when I let out a groan.
“Good?” She asks with a grin.
I can’t help but let out another groan of approval as I take another bite. “Damn, Colonel, you never told me you make a mean fried chicken.”
“I’m not just a pretty face,” she shrugs smugly.
“Or a fine ass,” I tease. “If you want to quit your day job you can totally open up a fast food chain. Your fried chicken puts KFC to shame.”
She laughs as she cuts some cornbread and puts it on my plate. “Now try this, I make a mean cornbread too.”
“Mmm,” I say in pleasure as I take the first bite.
“Okay, you need to stop with the sexy moaning,” she grumbles with a tiny smirk before she turns back to her dinner. “You’re so bad. I think you’re trying to take advantage of me.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter,” I laugh. “And besides, you’re just as bad.”
“True,” she replies with a sly smile. “I can be bad too.”
“But just how bad are we talking here?” I ask with a smirk.
“Not bad enough to sleep with you tonight,” she says before she takes a sip of water. After she swallows, she adds, “but totally bad enough I might get frisky with you.”
I give her a mock groan and look up to the ceiling. “A tease. I’ve saddled myself with a tease tonight.”
She laughs.
We talk about what she did at the hospital today as we eat, and her job in general, and it never fails to thrill me the things that she can do. She’s a jack of all trades when it comes to medicine, needing to be able to diagnose and stabilise, often in pressure-filled situations where time is of the essence. I can’t even imagine having the responsibility of someone’s life in my hands like that, and yet she seems to be able to leave it all behind. She talks openly and often with humour about her work, but she also admits that sometimes she can’t help but bear the burden of death too when her skills just don’t make a difference.
I admire her so fucking much. Never admired a woman before, but in fairness… I never looked too deeply at them.
I’m seeing YN through unfiltered eyes and I like everything that I’m seeing.
—
Something is squirming in my arms and it wakes me up.
I tighten my arm around it in response to the movement and pull it back slightly against my body.
Wait? What?
Sleep.
Couch.
We fell asleep on her couch while watching a film.
It all comes back in a rush. Our totally awesome conversation over equally awesome food she cooked that I couldn’t stop raving about all night. I had three pieces of chicken by the way. We talked more about our backgrounds, me growing up in Cheshire and her childhood in South Carolina. We had a few beers, and when she asked me if I wanted to stay a bit and watch a film or something, of course I said hell yes.
The fact that she asked made me smile, because it meant that she was having a good time too with me. So we ended up on her couch watching Jaws, and I liked that she didn’t even hesitate when I lay down on her couch, pressed my back against the cushions and patted the area in front of my hips. I’m pretty sure she can see the devilish gleam in my eyes when I said, “come on… let’s cuddle.”
“Wow… Harry Styles, big bad hockey player, shameless flirt, total panty dropper. Didn’t peg you as a cuddler.”
“I’m a big teddy bear, honey,” I said with a grin and open arms.
She fell asleep first, and I know I should’ve left but the slightest movement from me would definitely wake her up. I know she must be tired so I decided against it and closed my eyes instead.
“Morning,” she says in a husky, raspy, ‘I just woke up’ voice and it’s sexy as fuck.
“Morning,” I reply, my own voice is still rough with sleep. I wonder if she thinks that’s sexy too. “You slept good?”
“Mhmm,” she hums softly, but then immediately groans as she glances at the clock above the telly. “Ugh, I have to be in the hospital in about an hour.”
She then tries to extricate herself from my arms, but I pull her back in close and nuzzle her neck as I point out, “you work a lot.”
“Ha, tell me about it,” she says with a dry laugh. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love my job. It’s just I wish I could sleep for three days straight sometimes.”
“Do you even have a day off in the week?” I ask curiously.
“I do,” she answers with a nod. “It was actually my day off yesterday, but I was filling in for a colleague.”
I loosen my hold and let her sit up in front of me. “Go get in the shower, I’ll make us both a quick breakfast.”
“You can cook?”
“Well, if I give you food poisoning you’re heading to the hospital anyway,” I chuckle.
In the kitchen, I grab some eggs and a pack of English muffins from her fridge. A quick breakfast sandwich sounds good, and portable just in case she needs to eat on her way to the hospital. I crack open a couple of eggs, scramble them with a fork and add salt and pepper while my skillet heats up. I put a bit of olive oil in the pan before I toss the English muffins into her toaster to crisp, then set coffee to brew in her Keurig. I’m moving around her kitchen as if I was born here.
By the time I pour the eggs into the pan, she walks out of her bedroom in her scrubs. I smile and nod at the Keurig as I say, “coffee’s ready.”
“And damn, you’re hot in those scrubs,” I add with a grin, giving the eggs a last scramble before pulling them off the heat.
“You’re joking right?” She says, wrinkling her nose as she grabs the milk from the fridge and turns my way, letting the door swing shut on its own.
“I’m serious, Doc,” I say with a smirk. “I wouldn’t mind getting a thorough exam from you. Preferably in your new canopy bed though so I can tie you up after for a payback.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter. It’s eight in the morning,” she laughs and I snort in return.
She then pours some milk in her coffee, pulls the cup to her mouth, and blows across the steaming surface. Her eyes meet mine over the edge of the cup as she takes a tentative sip. “Are we still on for Wednesday?”
“Of course,” I say with a confident smile.
“What have you got planned?”
“Well, you’ll have to wait and see,” I tease her. “Just to warn you though, I may or may not gonna put my hands all over you.”
I don’t tell her that by putting my hands all over her, I mean on the ice to keep her from falling since I plan to take her ice-skating on the team’s practice rink. I don’t want to spoil the surprise, and besides, I’d be lying if I said I never thought of other ways too. The way she’s looking at me right now assures me that she does too, and well, that’s good.
We can compare notes on that later when we get there.
—
Blinking at me with a sleepy smile on her face, YN stands up from my couch. I walk up to her and she pushes me down into her seat, and then crawls onto my lap.
This is nice.
Our date on Wednesday was amazing, and as we walked inside, she turned to me and asked, “so this was your big plan to put your hands on me?”
I just laughed in response, and I did have to put my hands on her quite a lot in the end since she didn’t know how to ice-skate. Fuck if I’m complaining though.
Now we’re snuggled up on the couch at my house with full bellies. Last weekend she cooked me amazing food, so today, I wanted to impress her by cooking a roast dinner and introduced her to Yorkshire pudding. Sure, I was on the phone with my mum the entire time so she could give me directions, but I only almost burnt down my kitchen once so I’d call that a success.
I lean forward, which pushes her slightly to the edge of the couch, then I reach an arm over her and grab a packet of KitKat from the coffee table. I’m glad when I learnt that it is actually her favourite chocolate too, because KitKat is elite and it’s good to know we’re on the same page.
“Want another?” I ask her.
“No,” she groans. “I’m so full.”
I chuckle and awkwardly unwrap the chocolate. Awkward because I have to open it in front of her face since I have my arms around her, and once I got it opened, I hold the naked little chocolate bars in front of her mouth and tease, “want a bite?”
She shakes her head.
I wave it under her nose and I guess the smell of the chocolate changes her mind because then she says, “okay, a little bite.”
I break the bars and feed one of it to her, letting her take a bite and then chucks the rest in my mouth. We chew silently as we watch Marlin looking for Nemo, and I sigh in contentment when she tucks her face into my neck and drapes one arm across my chest.
It takes no more than ten minutes before I notice her breathing has slowed down and she’s fallen asleep. I rest my cheek on the top of her head and continue watching these fishies. I’m a little drowsy from all the food, but I resist the urge to fall under. For now, I just want to savour my existence at this moment because as Dory says to Marlin, “I look at you and I’m home”, I truly realise that’s how she makes me feel.
I’m sitting in my house, but for once, it doesn’t feel empty anymore. I just had a wonderful meal where we talked and joked and flirted, and now I have a gorgeous woman who I’m crazy about curled up on my lap.
There is absolutely no other place I’d rather be right now.
—
“Dude, you’re so fucking whipped,” Alex says as he punches me on the shoulder. I jerk slightly and reluctantly take my gaze off YN to look his way.
“What do you mean?” I ask as I take a swig of my beer and promptly look back at my girl. She’s standing just ten feet away, sipping on her own beer and talking animatedly with Sloane and Brynne. We’re at The Owner’s Box tonight having our first triple date, and I’m having a brilliant time. The only thing better would be if YN would quit chatting with the girls and get her sweet ass over here to sit next to me.
“Fucking hopeless,” Matt mutters and Alex snickers.
I blink and turn to look at them. “What? Why am I hopeless?”
“Because you can’t fucking take your eyes off of your girl for more than two seconds,” Alex jeers at me. Then he leans in towards me and murmurs with a mocking sneer, “pussy.”
“Bollocks that,” I say haughtily. “I can take my eyes off of her longer than that.”
“Good,” Matt says, handing me an empty beer bottle. “Go get us some more beer.”
“Assholes,” I say with good nature and head towards the bar. Stopping beside my girl, I kiss her on the temple. “You girls want anything else to drink?”
Sloane and Brynne shake their heads, smiling coyly at me as they watch my uncharacteristic display of affection. I’m immensely pleased when YN smiles at me and rests her hand on my chest. “I’m good, but thank you.”
“Be right back,” I tell the girls, and then I set out to prove Alex and Matt wrong.
I swivel my gaze back to Matt and Alex, and I give a sheepish grin when Matt mouths the word pussy at me. I flip him off and head towards the bar, intent on not looking back at my girl for at least the next few minutes it takes me to get the beers.
“Excuse me,” I hear and feel a tap on my shoulder. “Harry, can we get an autograph and a picture?”
As I turn around with a warm smile in my place, the word sure is out of my mouth before I even see who’s asking. I’m met by a vision of holy hotness as two women stand there with tight-as-hell t-shirts cut obscenely low and with plenty of silicone boobs pouring out.
Just a mere month ago, I would have whispered a prayer of thanks to the big man upstairs for sending these two my way, knowing well that I’d be banging the hell out of one of them before the night was finished. Instead, my stomach tightens and I glance past them to see YN still deep in conversation with Sloane and Brynne.
I bring my gaze back to the women… a brunette and a blonde, both looking at me with promise in their eyes.
“Do you mind taking your picture with us?” The blonde asks with a bat of her eyelashes.
I give her a quick smile and say, “sure, no problem.”
She steps up to me as she hands her phone to the brunette. I lift my arm to sling it companionably around her shoulders, but she uses that opportunity to press intimately into my side, bringing both arms around my waist and mashing her breasts against my ribs.
“Thanks so much,” the blonde says in a seductive voice. “Can we buy you a drink?”
“No, thanks,” I decline with a smile. “I’ve got some friends waiting for me.”
“An autograph, then?” She asks.
“Sure.”
The blonde digs in her handbag and pulls out a sharpie. She then hands it to me and says, “can you make mine out to Kourtney with a K?”
“You got it,” I say, eager to get this over with because it feels awkward to me to have this woman coming onto me with my girl standing just a few feet away.
“Just sign here,” she says and my jaw drops as she pulls the edge of her t-shirt down her chest, practically exposing her entire right breast to me.
“Uh, you got a piece of paper instead?” I ask her. “I don’t think my girlfriend would like that.”
“You bet your ass she won’t,” I hear my girl quips from behind me and I’m trying my best not to laugh. I like that she immediately snuggles into my side so those women now would have no doubt that I’m totally hers, “wanna go play some pool, baby? Loser buys the drinks.”
“You’re on,” I tell her, Kourtney with a K and her friend are long forgotten. “But just to warn you, I’m really good.”
“Honey, I was practically born on one of these tables with a beer in my hand,” she says smugly, “you’re going down.”
—
“Do you want to come in?” YN asks as she pulls out her keys from her handbag. We’ve just got back from The Owner’s Box and as usual, I walk her to the door.
My tone is low, soft, and barely audible when I say, “Doc, if I come inside tonight, I don’t think I can promise you to keep my hands to myself.”
“I don’t want you to promise me anything,” she replies firmly. “Whatever happens, happens. Now, let’s not dawdle on my porch and get inside. Want some more beers?”
“Whoa, don’t hand me ammunition,” I joke and she laughs. “I’ll take some water though.”
“There’s some water bottles in the fridge,” she says, pointing to the tiny kitchen that sits at the rear of the house, past the living room. “I’ll be right back.”
I get two bottles of water out of the fridge and head back into her living room. I take a seat on the couch and pull out my phone, scrolling mindlessly as I wait for my girl.
When she reappears, she’s wearing a pair of sleep shorts and a white t-shirt. Her hair is pulled into a ponytail and her makeup has been washed off. Her in a t-shirt and tiny shorts is a hundred times sexier than her in literally anything else—yes, including her scrubs—and there’s no stopping my downstairs head from waking up.
“Come here.”
Her eyebrows rise, but I don’t miss the clear interest in her eyes. “Come there?”
I tap my thigh, “right here.”
Her cheeks flush and a little puff of breath blows out of her. With absolutely no hesitation, she crawls onto my lap. Our gazes are locked tight and her eyes darken with intensity. When her chest comes level with mine, and her knees are pressed into the cushion just inches from my crotch, she asks me softly, “you going to finally kiss me?”
“I’m thinking about it,” I tease her as my hands come around her lower back, pressing her onto me.
Fuck, she feels good against me. Just her soft curves and warmth and I’m already starting to get hard before I even lay my mouth on hers.
She looks at me with sizzling eyes as we stare at each other, knowing that once we take this step, our relationship is going to another level.
Leaving one hand on her lower back, I slide the other up and over the shoulder, letting my palm glide up her neck so my fingers can tangle in her hair. She shivers when my thumb strokes her jaw before I cup my hand around the back of her head.
Her hands reach out and circle behind my neck. Then she whispers as she licks her lower lip, “so this is it?”
“This is it,” I tell her, and because I absolutely cannot wait one second longer, I put pressure on the back of her head to lock our mouths together. The first touch of her lips against mine causes pleasure to punch straight through my groin, and the world just absolutely melts away.
There’s nothing else but her.
Lips so fucking soft, tongue tentative and sweet. Her hair silky to the touch and her skin warm as my hand snakes up just under the edge of her t-shirt.
She tilts her head, opens her mouth more and kisses me deeper. I groan and pull her tighter to me. My hand fists tighter into her hair, hampered by the hair tie somewhat but not giving a fuck. Her hips start to rotate slightly, rubbing herself along the top of my thigh. My dick gets achingly hard as she starts to make tiny sounds of need in the back of her throat.
My other hand slips down her back and palms her backside, then I give a tentative squeeze. I think she likes that, because her hips shift forward and she starts to grind her crotch on my leg. I press against her ass, encouraging her to keep moving against me. She does it again and shudders in my arms, so I know it’s hitting her in the right spot.
Pulling on her hair, I break the kiss just enough so I can growl at her, “get yourself off, darling. Right here. On my leg.”
Her eyes fly open and they’re full of fire and sexual need as they stare back at me. Her lips curve up in a wicked smile of acquiescence and I pull her back down to my mouth for a hard kiss.
She rotates her hips in circles, then alternates flexing back and forth. I clench my thigh muscle, wanting to give her as hard a surface as possible to stimulate herself. I slip my hand down the back of her shorts, finding bare skin. I squeeze and push her down on me, helping her to move faster on my leg.
She pants and moans softly as she works herself up. I have to force myself not to push my hand down further between her legs. I’m bound and determined not to go there yet, and besides, this is hot as fuck and completely satisfying to me.
She moves faster and faster, making tiny cries of yearning into my mouth as we kiss. Then she punches her pelvis down hard onto my thigh, going still for a moment before her entire body starts quaking in silent orgasm. I hear nothing but a soft sigh of pleasure escape her lips and slither over my tongue.
Her body goes limp in my arms. She lifts her head, our lips parting, and looks down at me with glazed eyes. I press my lips to her briefly just once more, before I pull my hand out of the back of her shorts and roll her body off me. As I stand up and hover over her for a minute, I see her cheeks flushed rosy and her nipples pebbled hard, even through her t-shirt.
Placing a hand on the couch cushion, I lower myself to her and brush my lips across her forehead. “Get a good night’s sleep.”
“Wait- you’re leaving?” She asks, confusion coating her expression.
“Yes,” is all I say.
“But-”
“I’ll take a cold shower when I get home, no worries,” I assure her with a smile. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“I had a great time tonight, Harry,” she tells me, still looking like a wet noodle on the couch so I don’t think she’ll be getting up anytime soon.
“I did too,” I smile at her over my shoulder as I reach for her door.
It’s in this moment that I’m pretty sure I’m a goner for her.
—
I see the hottest, sexiest, most adorable doctor walking across the darkened parking lot towards me. Well, towards her car. Her head is tucked down and she looks tired. When she finally looks up and locks her eyes on me, the exhaustion melts away and I’m rewarded with a happy, welcoming smile from her.
“You really have to stop stalking me in parking lots,” she quips as she walks closer.
Then closer still until the tips of her shoes touch the tips of mine and she’s offering her mouth to me for a kiss. Obviously, I take it, because who wouldn’t? Her lips are perfect. She tastes like mint gum and smells faintly of antiseptic, and that right there is my favourite combo.
When she pulls back, she tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear and asks, “seriously, what are you doing here?”
“I wanna take you somewhere,” I tell her as I grab her hand and take her towards my car that’s parked the next row over.
“Where?”
“Just get in the car, Doc.”
“You’re being vague,” she says with an arched eyebrow. “Is this where you kidnap me, take my kidney and sell it on eBay?”
“This is where I’ll find a way to occupy that beautiful mouth of yours if you keep asking questions and ruin the surprise,” I tell her and she gives a tinkling laugh.
“Promises, promises,” she singsongs and I just roll my eyes.
It only takes about fifteen minutes from Cedars-Sinai Hospital where she works to the closest beach where I plan to take her for an impromptu picnic date night. We only had to stop by to get some pizza because I already have a cooler with a six-pack of beers loaded in the back of my car. It’s a little too late for sunset, but the purplish black of twilight is lush.
“The beach, huh,” she deadpans. “You brought me out here to seduce me?”
“You naughty girl,” I clutch a hand to my chest and make an exaggerated gasp of disbelief. “That’s indecent exposure that is.”
She laughs as she opens the door of the car and hops out. I do the same, then I open the back door to pull out the pizza, blanket and the cooler with beers inside before letting her help by taking the blanket.
Somehow we have the beach to ourselves tonight, and she points out a nice spot for us to sit. I agree, so I let her spread out the blanket. After both of us have our butts firmly planted, side by side, facing the ocean, I take two beers out and hand one to her.
“Ooh, we’re going fancy tonight,” she says when she sees that I brought microbrews instead of cheap beer.
I chuckle as I open the pizza box and grab a slice of the cheesy goodness that will probably clog my artery, then we talk about our day as we eat. I tell her the funny things that happened at practice today, including a joke that Marcel told us in the locker room which most would probably find insulting, but I know my girl is used to locker room talk and would find it hilarious, and she tells me what she did in the hospital. Apparently, they were so busy today that her lunch break lasted less than ten minutes.
“You never cease to amaze me, Doc,” I tell her honestly. “It’s so cool what you do for a living. Impressive as hell.”
“Thanks, Harry,” she says softly. “That means a lot.”
It’s completely dark by the time we finish our pizza, but the view is still lush since the moon is bright, causing the water to look like it’s covered in floating, crushed diamonds.
We’re silent as we sip our beers, and I love that we can sit in comfortable silence as well as talk for hours. It’s crazy to think that it’s only been a few weeks that we’ve known each other yet I just feel such a strong connection with her. I love that we’re so in tune with each other that sometimes we say the same things and steal lines from one another. We have a similar sense of humour and we can even exchange an inside joke with just a glance.
I loosen my hold of her when she pulls away from my side embrace. Her head swivels to me, and I can see the moon glittering in her eyes. “I owe you an apology.”
“What?” I look at her in confusion.
“I misjudged you, Harry,” she says with a tender smile. “When you asked me out, I outright told you that you’re a player without even giving you a chance to explain yourself. I made an assumption, and that was wrong of me. I’m sorry.”
“And your assumption was right,” I tell her honestly with a light chuckle. “There is nothing to apologise for. It was common knowledge, I was a manwhore.”
She snorts. “Shut up, I’m serious.”
“Me too,” I squeeze her hand. “You didn’t misjudge me, Doc, you knew exactly the type of guy I used to be.”
She has a dreamy smile on her face when she says, “kiss me.”
“No, you come here and kiss me,” I say, and I’m pretty sure she can see my eyes sparkling with mischief.
She rolls her eyes and mutters “fine” under her breath as she plants her knees on the sides of my legs, but I don’t miss the light in her eyes which tells me that she likes the idea.
Closing her eyes, she dips her mouth to mine and now I’m wondering if the two years of jail time and a fine for indecent exposure is worth it if I were to take her right here right now.
—
We’re in New York for two away games in a row, tonight against the Rangers which we won 3-1, and tomorrow night against the Devils. I’m chuffed not only because we won and I played great, but I also had a great day today before the game with my girl. We didn’t do much since she wanted me to save my energy for the game tonight, but we did walk around our hotel and ended up napping on the couch in the room that I share with Marcel.
We all ride on the team bus that takes us from the hotel to the arena and back to the hotel after we finish the game. I wanted her to sit next to me, but for both trips, to the arena and back, she gave me a slight shake of her head and sat with the girls along with the rest of the staff in the front.
When I hop off the bus though, I see her waiting for me with a grin on her face. I kiss the fuck out of her, not caring about my teammates who whistle and yell, “get a room.”
“Which floor are you on again?” I ask her as we enter the lift. I want to walk her to her room just to spend a few minutes more with her.
Yeah, laugh all you want. I know I’m fucking whipped.
“Tenth,” she says, pulling her room key out of her handbag and hands it to me so I can scan it then tap the button on number ten.
“Wanna catch an early breakfast with me tomorrow?” I ask her as we approach her room that she shares with the team’s orthopaedic surgeon, Callie.
“Sure. What time?”
“We’re leaving for light skate practice at 9:30, so we should have plenty of time if we meet down there at 8:30.”
“Sounds good,” she nods as we reach her door.
There’s a handwritten note stuck in between the door and the jamb. She puts her key in the card slot, opens the door slightly, and snag the piece of paper. She opens it up and I look over her shoulder at the note as we read it silently together.
YN,
Marcel and Joslynn are hooking up and they’re in his room which means Harry has been kicked out. I’m going to sleep with Macy instead, so you and Harry can have this room. Unless you want Harry to go sleep with Macy?
No? Didn’t think so.
Have fun you two.
Callie
“This is Alex, Matt and Marcel’s doing,” I tell her with absolute certainty as she twists her neck to look at me. “I’ll just get an extra room for tonight.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she chuckles. “You can sleep here. We’ve spent the night together before.”
“Yeah, but that was different. We fell asleep on the couch, it wasn’t intentional,” I point out. “I don’t trust myself sleeping in the same bed with you, Doc. I’m not going to be able to help myself.”
“Well, good,” she says, smiling mischievously. “Cause I’m done wait-”
That’s as far as she gets before I push her through the door, backing her into the room. My mouth hits her only moments before her legs hit the edge of the bed and we both go tumbling onto it.
This is when we realise there’s a huge box of condoms with 144 packs inside it in the middle of the bed. On the top, there’s another note and I recognise Matt’s handwriting on it.
You’re welcome by the way
“I freaking love your teammates,” she says with a laugh.
I guess I owe those fuckers some beers.
#hockey!harry#harry styles au#harry styles#harry styles fic#harry styles fics#harry styles ff#harry styles one shot#harry styles smut#harry styles fluff#boyfriend!harry#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles blurbs#harry styles drabbles
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An open call for advice from dog mammas
hey frenns!
As some of you know, I am the proud mama to a lil perfect Aussie bb who will be 2 in January. We’ve had some ups and downs but he’s just so fucking perfect.
Long story short he started limping a bit this past January, and his original vet was like “oh it’s hip dysplasia for sure” and was like, ready to wheel him in for a $30,000 surgery for titanium hips when he wasn’t even a year old. Needless to say, we switched vets pretty fast.
I’ve been seeing a new vet who is pretty fantastic and takes a very conservative approach to treatment. We have weekly “desensitization” visits where he just goes in and gets a shit ton of treats, gets pet by everyone, gets told he’s a very good boy--just to help him not be so nervous at the vet. His new doc is really fantastic and I love her.
His limp was intermittent--it would go away for a few months, and then show up again. Always on his right hind leg. In June, it became more present--after a very active day full of playing (he goes to a daycare twice a week), I notice that he’d lie down to nap and when he got up, he’d limp. We tried one week on anti-inflammatories, which did wonders--but came back when we stopped the meds. So we did another week--and the same thing happened.
His vet and I finally decided it would be a good idea to do some XRays to see what’s really going on, and it took a lot of convincing on my part because he had to be sedated and I hate doing that.
The X Rays showed, what the vet thinks, is a teeny tiny MCL tear. She referred me to an orthopedist to see my options.
Now, here’s the issue. The surgery to repair a small torn/completely ruptured MCL is major. They saw into bone. They use steel. The rehab is 3-6 months--and that’s like, no walking. NO WALKING. I live on the second floor, and my dude is an Aussie. He’s active, and I travel a shit ton. This is a major life decision.
But like, the first step is with the orthopedist, which we have an appointment September 21. And already, when I emailed my pupper’s file over, the doc got back to me and said “okay well don’t feed him the day of the appointment because I’m going to re-do the x ray, it’s not up to my standards.”
Um...No? FUCK NO?
I don’t want to do that--not only because it’s a fuck ton of money, but because I fail to see the point. The X Rays are two weeks old. I’m not re-doing them just to fit your standard--work with what you’ve got. The x rays are perfectly fine, and there’s 4 views. My dude, I ain’t redoing that shit.
But that, right there, makes me feel like an irresponsible pet parent. I want the best for my little guy.
But then also like...look, I’m not convinced on the surgery front. My bubba doesn’t seem to be in pain, and he only limps SOMETIMES--other times, he’s perfectly fine. And like, right now--okay, he’s at risk of arthritis if I don’t fix it, he limps and has some soreness when he’s too active.
And if I get the surgery? The side effect are....he’s at risk of arthritis when he’s older (because it’s SURGERY and they saw into BONE), and he’ll still limp and get sore if he’s too active because it’ll be the scarred tissue form surgery.
I don’t know. I fail to see the fucking point, but in saying that, I also feel like a TERRIBLE and irresponsible pet parent for potentially letting my doggo live with pain?
HALP.
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365 Days of Romitri
Day 17: Darkness
part of a longer fic that you can find on my ao3 and ff.net. this isn’t perfect but i’m sick of looking at it. warning: my knowledge of therapy and ptsd is limited to my googling.
It’s taken Dimitri a while but he’s come to accept that there are always going to be days where it’s harder to outrun the darkness.
Dr Matthews, who he stills calls Dr Matthews no matter how many years he’s been his therapist or how many times he says Xavier is fine, shifts in the armchair opposite, chin cupped in his hand and notebook balance precariously on his knee.
“Do you want to tell me about last night?”
Not really, Dimitri wants to say but doesn’t because he’s older now, and those days of sessions spent in stoic silence are a thing of the distant past. And besides, he’s the one who scheduled this emergency appointment.
“Not much to say,” Dimitri says, voice almost monotone as he looks out the window at the grey sky. “My heavily pregnant wife, who’s not supposed to be exerting herself, had to call her best friend to help her with our sick toddler screaming for half the night because I was having…”
“A PTSD episode,” Dr Matthews supplies when he can’t finish.
“Yeah,” Dimitri sighs.
He shuts his eyes, cringing as the memory of the night before plays over and over in his mind; lying, frozen, in bed and listening to his daughter’s insistent cries but not going to her because he was terrified of what might happen when he picked her up. Feeling Rose jolt awake beside him, seeing understanding chase away her lingering sleepiness and having to look away because he couldn’t handle the torn look on her face as she debated staying with him or going to their daughter. Hearing her hiss of pain as she levered herself upright from the bed and the baby undoubtedly shifted against the pinched nerve in her back that had been plaguing her for weeks and hating himself even more.
“Do you think that’s how Rose would characterise last night?”
The question throws Dimitri enough for a loop that he stirs, looking away from the window and back to his doctor. “What do you mean?”
“I mean do you think Rose would see it as her having to rely on someone else to help her with your daughter or would she see it as the community the two of you have built coming together to help support her partner through a PTSD episode.”
He has to fight against the impulse to protest, to automatically argue that he should have been stronger than that, should have been able to handle it. Dr Matthews knows him well enough to know what’s currently running through his head because he smiles a little.
“Can I ask you something?”
Dimitri raises an eyebrow. “That’s kind of why we’re here, Doctor Matthews.”
“How would you feel if one of your friends called you needing your help? No more details than that, they just need your help right away, what would your response be?”
Dimitri huffs, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “Point taken, Doc.”
“Point taken?” Doctor Matthews prompts.
“That I hold myself to a higher standard than everyone else, and am more willing to offer help than to accept,” Dimitri says, repeating something he’s heard in this office countless times before.
Doctor Matthews’ smile widens slightly, “It’s a work in progress but keep at it.” His eyes flick up to the clock. “And that’s time, Dimitri. We’ll go back to weekly sessions for the next little while? Make sure this is an isolated incident.”
Dimitri breathes a sigh but nods. “That’s probably for the best.” The time between episodes has grown longer and longer, the last having been before Anastasia’s birth, so it’s hard to feel like this isn’t a setback.
“Alright, I’ll see you next week. And just remember, when your community is trying to be there for you, try leaning in instead of pushing back.”
“Yeah,” Dimitri says, standing from the lounge. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He’s still running Doctor Matthews words over in his mind when he pulls up in the driveway of the house and hears the babble of voices coming from inside. Hands still resting on the wheel, he almost backs right back out again, until he steels himself and opens the car door.
“Try leaning in instead,” he repeats.
So he puts one foot in front of the other as he mounts the front steps and pushes open the front door. The first thing that hits him is the noise of a full house, the second being the two toddlers he almost trips over on his way through the door.
“Unca Mitri,” Hayden babbles, stopping short of chasing Mason around.
“What are you two monsters doing?” He takes a deep breath and forces himself to trust that his hands are gentle enough as he ruffles the soft hair on the crown of their heads.
“Monsters, monsters monsters,” they cheer, chasing one another in circles around his legs.
Dimitri chuckles and steps carefully between them to continue down the hall. He encounters Sydney, who flashes him a friendly smile as she follows the sound of the toddlers. When he steps into the living area, it’s a chaos of sound and movement. Adrian, Eddie, and Mia are arguing over a hand of cards, Lissa is nursing newborn Rosalie, and chatting to Rose who’s propped up on a mountain of cushions on the lounge.
“Hey Belikov,” Christian says over the breakfast bar that separates the kitchen from the rest of the living room. “I’m making bacon sandwiches, you want one?”
Dimitri smiles softly, appreciative of the clear attempt at normalcy. His eyes find Rose, whose head has perked up at the sound of his name. She’s rubbing her stomach with one hand while the other cradles Anastasia’s little head where she has her ear pressed to Rose’s stomach. There’s a hint of worry in his wife’s face, and he knows she’s wondering if this is what he needs right now.
“Daddy daddy daddy,” Anastasia squeals in delight and Dimitri crosses the room to sweep her into his arms.
“Hello, my miracle,” he murmurs, before leaning down to press a kiss to Rose’s waiting lips. She smiles as he draws back and touches his face reverently. Everyone’s still chattering and moving around him, Christian yelling for them to come and get his food, and someone patting him on the shoulder on their way to the kitchen. Anastasia is giggling in his ear, and Rose is beaming at him with that smile he fell in love with so many years ago. And yeah, maybe there are days where the darkness almost catches him, but he knows he has a family waiting at home to chase away the shadows.
#va#vampire academy#romitri#rose hathaway#dimitri belikov#mywriting#365 days of romitri#vampire academy fanfiction#va fanfiction#vampire academy fanfic#va fanfic#vampire academy fic#va fic
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The One Where After His Recovery, Tensei Iida realizes Life Is To Precious And Short.
Requested By: Wattpad User
Edited: 1-13-2021
"You can do it!"
You yelled out to Tensei Iida from the top of a hill. It wasn't very steep, it was a slow gradual incline. He was at the bottom of the hill in his wheelchair trying to push himself up alone. This was all part of his long recovery from the attack on him in Hosu. The attack that left him crippled. The attack that forced him to take early retirement.
He knew was never going to get his ability to walk back, he had given up on that long before his younger brother got Recovery Girl, his school nurse, to try and help him. Tensei knew how her quirk worked, and if the best of the best, the woman with the greatest medic type quirk couldn't heal him, nothing would.
"Tensei, babe! You got this!"
Tensei tried to push on the handles attached to the wheels of his chair and push up the hill. He knew he’d never get his walk back, all he could do now was work on adjusting to his new life. Adjust to wheelchairs, adjust to never using his legs again, adjust to getting taken care of for the rest of his life. He tried but it was futile, going uphill was just so hard on his own. He wasn’t there yet, wasn’t strong enough yet.
He hated this. He absolutely hated this. He hated depending on you. You were giving everything up for him. You barely worked anymore, you were always with him. You ran around and did errands for him. You went grocery shopping, you did his laundry, you did his dishes, you helped him get in the bath, and you wheeled him around. You were constantly accommodating your schedule and life for him. He was sick of it. You were his girlfriend, not his caretaker. He hated helplessly watching as people had to accommodate him, but he hated it most watching you give up everything.
"I can't do it! Can we find a smaller hill?!"
You jogged down the hill with a smile on your face. Why were you always smiling? Didn't you realize what a burden he was? How awful your life was going to be constantly taking care of him? You’d started to hate him, and your sex life wasn't going to be what it used to be.
"I don't see why you're in such a rush to push yourself around. The doctor said it’s going to take time to get used to it, besides we live together, I'm always gonna be there to help you. Getting sick of me already?"
You grabbed the handles on the top of Tensei’s wheelchair and turned him around. Further away from the hill he couldn't get over and closer towards the busy streets of Japan. Tensei clenched his fists as he tried to answer you. You'd been together since high school, years of your relationship taught him that there were going to be ups and downs, it taught him he needed to be honest above all else. He wanted to be honest, he wanted to tell you how much of a burden he was, but he didn't want to lose you. Not after all these years, not after how much you meant to him.
"I don't want to always depend on you. I... I don't like this. I don't like you always pushing me around, you should be focusing on your career. If I just push myself, then I’d be able to get groceries on my own, I could go run the errands instead."
"Don't say it like that."
You pushed the wheelchair up to a busy road and pressed the button on the street lamp. You walked in front of the chair and squatted down so you could talk to Tensei on a more equal level. You grabbed onto his hands as your eyes met and you gave Tensei a warm smile.
"You're not a burden, so don't act like it. I like running around and doing errands for you. We live together, and groceries are a need for us both so don't act like it's some inconvenience."
You stood back up and stretched out your body, tired limbs stretching as you arched your back. Pushing Tensei could get tiring sometimes, but only because you lacked the muscles to push all his body mass around.
"As for my career, I'm a writer. It can done from home."
"You're a news writer. You need to be out in the streets, reporting news. Not on the couch, editing your college's work from a shared google docs document. They get all the credit, and you don't."
You crossed your arms and huffed at your boyfriend. He was being stupid. Stupid and unfair. After all the years you'd been together, after junior high and high school, after college and getting your first jobs. He should've known by now how much he meant to you. He should've known how important and priceless to you he was. He should've known you weren't letting him go, crippled or not.
"I am a news writer, but news gets boring very quickly. Maybe I’ll write a book instead. 'Love For Dummies', how is that for a title?"
"Just because you've been in a long stable relationship doesn't mean you can write that. People who switch jobs like that are unhappy."
"I’m referring to you, you dumbass!"
You and Tensei had begun yelling at each other, heatedly pointing and scowling, not even caring that citizens and bystanders were staring at you. In your heat of rage, you had stomped your foot and stepped on a pebble. It knocked you off balance and you began to slip back into the busy road. Without thinking, Tensei used his hands and with all his might he pushed his chair forward, grabbed your shirt, and pulled you onto him before rolling backward.
"You're so dumb. Are you trying to die or just get crippled like me? You should've taken the back streets, you could've ride."
"I slipped, it was an accident, I'm sorry."
Your body felt uncomfortable being sprawled out on top of Tensei haphazardly. You felt like you were crushing his legs, but you knew he couldn't feel them anyway. Your little sniffles drew Tensei’s attention to you.
"Hey, don't cry. I'm sorry, you’re not dumb."
"It’s not that, I just... You think I'm unhappy with you?"
Tensei ran his fingers through your hair, and you tried to hold back your tears. It just hurt. It hurt knowing that your partner felt so hopeless and feeling so fruitless, and you couldn't do anything.
"I know you're unhappy, you just don’t realize it yet. There are so many news breaks that happened the past few weeks, and you couldn’t catch any of them because you were with me. You’re missing out on your dreams, you’re gonna realize it after all your opportunity is gone and you'll be so unhappy."
"You're so wrong. I'm not gonna be unhappy. I'll never be unhappy with you. I only ever became a news writer because you became a hero. It’s so stupid, I know, but after you told me you were going to be a hero I decided to be a news writer. That way, even if we broke up, I’d still be able to chase after you. I don’t care what kind of life it is, I want you Tensei. Tensei, you were my first love, and I’ll be damned if anyone but you is my last."
You tried to pull yourself up off of Tensei, sure your added weight must be hurting him somehow despite not having legs, but he wrapped his arms around you to keep you there.
"I wasn't planning on asking you this, but it appeared to me that life is short. Will you marry me?"
"Yes, yes. God yes. A million times yes. We're gonna have your brother as the best man, and we'll invite your old coworkers, and god, we have to tell your mom, she's gonna be so excite-"
Tensei presses his lips against yours frantically, you both smile into the kiss and pull apart before erupting in laughter. You were completely oblivious from the forming crowd. Oblivious to the people, the people who recognised Tensei Iida, the newly retired Ingenium. Oblivious to the crowd holding up their phones and recording your near death proposal, all that mattered was each other.
"Let's go home first, okay? Then we can start planning."
#mha tensei x reader#bnha tensei x reader#my hero academia#tensei x reader#tensei iida x reader#mha iida x reader#bnha iida x reader#iida x reader#bnha tensei iida x reader#mha tensei iida x reader#iida tensei x reader#bnha iida tensei x reader#mha iida tensei x reader#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha x reader#mha x reader#mha#x reader#boku no hero academia x reader#anime x reader#boku no hero#x reader insert#boku no hero x reader#my hero academia x reader#boku no pico#tensei#iida tensei#bnha tensei#mha tensei
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meet-cute | b.b.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Warning(s): fluff, awkward Bucky, vet appointment stuff, Alpine Request: Babes if you're lowkey taking requests can I lowkey make one? 👉🏼👈🏼🥺💕 something flirty and cute and maybe a lil spicy with Bucky and vet!reader where something's going on with Alpine? Not self indulgent at all 😻💖 Notes: This was the first thing I’ve written in months and it felt damn good. Funny story, I actually almost went to school to be a vet tech + shadowed a vet for two weeks and got to see some wickedly cool things.
This was a bit self-indulgent on my part because I had a cat who passed away some years ago because of struvite stones and I wished he had a happier ending like Alpine so I thought why not 🤷♀️💖
Taglist is open
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There’s nothing Bucky hates more than the stringent smell of industrial cleaners and clinical white walls - too many associations and shades of memory long laid to rest - except for when something’s going on with Alpine. The Turkish Angora was fine up until a few days ago when he started to hide away and sleep all day.
That wasn’t too concerning at first...
But then came the pained little noises, the frantic running back and forth from the litter box, the excessive grooming. The pit that started forming low in his belly grew, his instincts screaming at him that something was wrong, very wrong, with his little buddy.
Bucky wasn’t about to fuck around and set up an appointment with the first vet office he could find that had a same-day opening. And now he’s trying not to fall apart at the seams while he waits for the docs to do their magic and tell him what the hell’s going on with his cat and what he has to do to fix it.
The vet tech collected Alpine a bit ago and every minute stretches into years, the cat’s pitiful meow echoing in his ears and those betrayed eyes burned onto the backs of his eyelids.
I know, Bub, I’m sorry but they gotta figure out what’s going on. It’ll be okay, they’ll take care of you.
His ass went numb from the plastic chair ages ago, his leg jiggling up and down at a rapid pace as he chews on his thumbnail and waits.
And waits.
And waits.
God, he knows these things take time but he’d rather be back at home, curled up on the couch with Alpine pigging out on breakfast food and watching space documentaries.
How much longer-
“Alright, Mr. Barnes?”
The heavy door swings open with a click, a kind, professional voice preceding a pair of sensible shoes as the vet steps into the room with a clipboard cradled against her chest. His eyes snap up, skipping over her completely to look at the tech holding his cat who looks absolutely miserable.
She introduces herself but he’s not paying attention. He’s not meaning to be rude but all his focus narrows in on that white little face, the knot in his chest unfurling at the little mew.
He smiles, his eyes crinkling around the edges as he breathes, “Hey there, Little Buddy.”
The vet doesn’t push, in fact, she seems a little enamored with how much he melts at the sight of his pet. Her own lips quirk up into a soft smile while she stands off to the side patiently as Alpine’s set down on the metal table.
Bucky gets in a few good scritches under his chin, the beginnings of a purr just starting to vibrate his hand when the vet clears her throat delicately.
He clears his throat, heat burrowing into the apples of his cheeks. “Shi - uh, ‘m sorry.” A hand scrubs over the back of his neck. “I’m just - uh - y’know...”
Her laugh trickles down his spine like warm rain, the sound effectively drawing his attention away from the cat rubbing up against his side. He gets his first look at her and oh.
A bare face and a no-nonsense hairstyle greet him, her scrubs and white coat adding to the overall doctor vibe but she’s still breathtaking. The natural beauty in the curves of her face, the slant of her brows, the sparkle of her eyes.
He feels like he got sucker-punched in the chest, his heart giving a sudden throb that has him coughing like an idiot as he scrambles to not look like such a jackass.
“So,” he clears his throat, scratching at the stubble along his jaw, “What’s - what’s wrong with him?”
Glancing down at Alpine’s chart, she hums and writes a note before glancing back up with a reassuring smile. “Nothing that can’t be managed with a special diet and watching his water intake.”
It’s like the weight of the world disappears from his shoulders, his broad frame practically heaving with his sigh of relief. “Oh thank fucking- ahem, ‘scuse me - thank god.”
Her chuckle and sly smile have him blushing from the roots of his hair to the collar of his shirt, his stomach squirming in discomfort. Old habits are hard to break, especially ones his momma taught him with a box to the ear.
“You’re allowed to swear, Mr. Barnes,” she says, reaching down to run her fingers through snow-white fur. “We’re all adults here.”
“No, no, I know...”
“Hm, anyway, his blood work came back and everything looks fine which is a good thing.”
And it’s back to business like that, any hint of personality hidden behind cool professionalism that Bucky thinks even Tasha would admire. Except for the playful gleam in her eyes as she sneaks peeks at him while going over everything they did and what they found.
“Struvite crystals are quite common in cats at low levels, especially males because their tract is longer and narrower.” She pauses, flipping to a new page. “Depending on the severity, they can clump together in the urinary tract and actually form stones. That’s where the true problem lies because get one large enough, and it can cause a blockage.”
He’s listening with rapt attention, soaking in the knowledge she’s imparting to him all the while, petting Alpine who keeps nuzzling him and making little sounds. Honestly, he could listen to her talk for hours even if he didn’t understand a goddamn thing.
She’s so animated when she speaks, holds eye contact and makes sure he understands everything without making him feel like an idiot. He’s had so many doctors who talked at him rather than with him, staring through him without seeing, more interested in the paycheck rather than their patients.
But not her, she cares.
Deeply.
He can see it all over her face and it’s utterly enchanting. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little enamored, charmed.
Turning the tablet towards him, she shifts closer and a waft of whatever perfume she’s wearing tickles his nose as she explains what the x-ray of Alpine’s abdomen found.
“These are the stones but thankfully they’re relatively small,” she points to several hazy white ovals starkly visible on the radiograph, “We caught them in time before they became a really big problem.”
Shit, she smells so good...
“Now, we’ll send you home with a special diet and see how he does. Also, make sure to up his fluid intake as much as you can. The food can take several months to start dissolving the crystals so we’ll have to do everything we can to help. Sound good?”
Bucky hasn’t pulled his eyes away from her face once this entire time, and how fucking creepy is that?
Quickly looking down at Alpine, embarrassment gnawing at his belly, he nods and wishes for the first time since he cut his hair that he hadn’t so he’d at least have a passing chance at hiding the blush burning its way across his face.
“Yeah,” he says, picking up the ball of white fluff to hold against his chest, a makeshift shield. “Is there anything else I should do?”
“No.” She smiles, writing another note and tapping away at the tablet next to her. “I do want to see him again in about a month for a check-up.”
Fuck, he doesn’t want to leave so soon.
The irony isn’t lost on him either.
How does he make this last longer? What can he do? If Sam was here right now, he’d be kicking him in the ass and bitching at him to ask for her number already, Ice Pick.
The clack of the chart being set down rings through the room, bouncing off the walls and sounding so fucking final that he starts to panic.
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
She’s already halfway to the door when she asks, “Do you have any questions?”
The word vomit spring from him, unbidden and sudden without any thought, more forward than he’s been with a woman in years.
“Can I have your number?”
As soon as the question leaves his lips, he curses, cringes and wishes he could snatch the very words from the air itself.
Great, I just hit on my vet.
No amount of backpedaling can salvage this but goddamn it if Bucky doesn’t try, stuttering out some half-assed excuse about wanting it just in case he thinks of something later.
When he glances up, he wishes he hadn’t. The vet tech is in near tears in the corner, biting her lips so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if they started to bleed.
But it’s the absolute surprised bafflement on the woman he just inappropriately hit on that does him in, makes him about ready to burn all forms of identification and run for the hills.
Her brows nearly reach her hairline, her mouth slack, eyes startled. She gets ahold of herself before he does, and he barely stops himself from slapping a hand over his face.
Right when he’s thinking there’s no way he’s going to be able to show his face in the office again, her expression softens with gentle amusement and her lips twitch.
Struck dumb, he can only watch as she writes something down on a slip of paper before handing it over to him. He barely believes the string of numbers and the cheeky little call me anytime :).
The wink she sends his way is there and gone, so fast he almost believes he imagined it.
“For emergencies only,” she says, slyly. “Of course.”
“Of course,” he agrees, almost tripping over the cat carrier as he hurries to stuff Alpine back in. “Of course, thank you. I...appreciate it.”
“Anytime, Mr. Barnes.”
Bucky leaves the room in a stupor, the world sharply shifted to the left as he heads to the front desk to make the follow-up appointment, but not before hearing the whispered, “Girl, you’re lucky. He’s fine!” and the “He is, isn’t he?”.
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