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havin-fun-imagining-twd · 2 years

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*in threes

When - right after Bad things happen*. We left off running through the woods with Glenn, Shane, and Daryl to go help Rick bring Sophia back.

Genre - it’s season 2, episode 1 “What lies ahead.” As always, dialogue is word for word, with some added dialogue and scenes to accommodate “you” and fill in gaps. It’s a more stressful episode during which the group searches for Sophia, T-Dog slices his arm open on that dirty, rusted car part, Shane makes plans to possibly abandon the group, and That Thing happens to Carl.

Perspective/Pronouns - 2nd person, you

Relationships - the Slowpoke Series means it’s found-family and a slow burning Daryl x You. In this installment, he recognizes that you’re fixing to spiral and behaves kindly in his blunt, no-nonsense way to ease you a bit. If y’all enjoy canon compliant slow-cooking, here’s the Masterlist.

TWs - stress, language, and we all know how the episode finishes and how hard I cried when The Thing happened

Word count ~ 6,000ish, lots of pictures as always with an episode story

Sophia’s at the creek. A “cave by the creek,” she said. You and Glenn are ahead of the pack, running as fast as you can in the direction of the water.

Rick and Sophia’s trail is hard to miss given that two stumbling, shuffling walkers had been trailing them. And once you knew that she was by the creek, you’d stopped even looking for it. You’ll simply follow the creek in either direction until you run into that little cave she mentioned.

Whoa, shi—you just slipped on leaves, but you’re good, you’re good. Regaining your balance, you take off again.

“Rick!” you hear shouted behind you. Do the others see him, where is he?

“Rick?” you shout, too, looking all around until—there he is!

“Rick!” Once more, you’re off like a shot, and narrowly avoid smacking your head on a branch as you crash through some brambles to reach him faster.

When you get closer, you see a walker body behind him, its head—oh, nasty—bashed in. A jolt of dread surges through you when you see Rick’s got blood all over this right shoulder. “Are you bit?” you pant. That stupid adage about bad things happening in threes will not leave your head.

“I’m okay, Y/N,” he assures you, panting likewise and pulling you in for a hug. “It’s not my blood on my shirt, it’s a walker’s.” He releases you from the embrace but gently holds your arms to check you over. “And that ain’t your blood on your jeans, who’s is it?”

“T-Dog, he sliced his arm open, um, w-where is, where’s—”

“—Sophia? If you haven’t run into her, she must still be—” he cuts off to cough and clear his throat. “You still have the green walkie on you?”

“Of course.”

“She’s still out here, come on,” he tells you, guiding you along and starting to jog. He’s breathing hard as he explains “I had to lead them away from her, but I can take you to where I hid her. When I went b—”

“—She told us over the walkie she’s in a ‘cave by the creek?’” Glenn calls to him, just as winded as the two of you are.

“There’s a fallen tree that formed a sort of covered area along the waterway,” Rick explains.

“Sophia, sit tight, we’re on our way,” you let her know quietly through the walkie. To Rick, you point to confirm “This way to the water?” then take off full-speed ahead, Glenn right on your heels.

“Rick, you good? Any bites?” Shane shouts from behind, at the same time Daryl calls loudly “Where’s that little girl?”

Rick shouts something in response, but you don’t hear what it is.

Caution be damned, you weave between trees and duck under branches. When your boot gets stuck in the wedge on an old log and slows your pace, you grow furious—which quite frankly propels you forward even faster. You don’t notice at first when you whack your knee against a rock that you scrambled over, but the ache doesn’t bother you when you finally see the shimmering of the creek in the afternoon sun.

Okay, okay, we’re at the creek, where’s the tree? Where’s that tree…fallen tree, somewhere there’s a fallen tree...“There! Sophia! Honey, it’s safe now, come on out!”

“Y/N finally beat me in a race this time, can you believe that, Sophia?” Glenn calls ahead.

“Aw, listen to the buttface,” you whine back, hopping down off the bank and into the water, losing your balance and falling just a bit. The messenger bag didn’t get too wet, thank goodness, just the outside of it. The supplies inside were safe, which means that you can laugh at yourself and joke to Soph–what? She’s not in...where did...“Sophia?”

Glenn splashes toward you before freezing just like you did when he sees it. “Oh, crap.”

“Th-this has to, um, this just isn’t the right tree.” You can feel your fingers begin to tingle. Not good. “Rick?” you yelp out. Oh shit, now you can’t catch your breath. “Rick!” Sophia’s gone, T-Dog is gonna get an infection, what’s next? What makes three?

“Y/N and Glenn, are there walkers?” you hear the men shout back.

“It’s gotta be the wrong tree,” you reason out loud, wiping your hand on your jeans.

“Yeah, wrong tree,” Glenn echoes. His chuckle seems nervous when he adds “There are trees all over the place.”

“Y/N! Glenn!” Rick shouts again.

Glenn calls back something while you inwardly tell yourself to get a grip; it’s fine, you’re not in the right spot or whatever, that’s all. You try to speak clearly and calmly into the walkie. “Sophia, we’re at the creek now, that means we’ll reach you shortly, just sit tight.”

“Hold up, Y/N, I think I just...” Glenn’s brow lowers as he tries to listen for something. “Um, blow into the walkie, okay?”

“Glenn, what’s wrong?”

“Just do it?”

Stomach turning cold, you press the speak button but are interrupted when Carol answers over the third walkie, crying “You were so brave, baby, I’ll see you soon!”

And you hear it, same as Glenn hears it.

Your friend trudges through the water to follow the sound. When he reaches the tall grass on the bank, sure enough, there it is.

It’s the pink walkie-talkie. Sophia’s.

Rick and Daryl arrive next, jumping down with a splash. Daryl heads straight for the hollow under the fallen tree, but Rick goes to you. “Y/N, any word back from her on the talkies?”

“She lost it, Rick,” you whisper.

“What do you–” he cuts off when he sees Glenn holding it. “This is what I was tryin’ to tell you before. I-I came back and she wasn’t here, but I didn’t know she’d dropped the...”

Daryl is crouched down under the tree, looking in either direction and frowning. “Sure this is the spot?” he calls over.

“Yeah, dude,” Glenn mutters, holding up the pink walkie as he makes his way up to stand next to Shane. Daryl looks at it and curses under his breath.

“I left her right here,” Rick repeats. “I drew the walkers way off in that direction, up the creek.”

“Without a paddle, seems where we’ve landed,” Daryl comments, walking slowly towards Glenn and looking carefully around the area. Trying to spot her new trail, most likely. “In there’s where y’all found the little pink thing?” he checks, nodding at the tall grass from which Glenn’s shoes have left footprints in the surrounding mud.

“She was gone by the time I got back here,” Rick goes on. “I figured just she took off and ran back to the group. I told her: go that way, keep the sun on your left shoulder.”

Trail apparently up near where Glenn was standing, Daryl scolds “Hey, Short Round, why don’t you step off to one side? You’re mucking up the trail.”

“Daryl,” you warn, already at the end of your rope.

“Assumin’ she knows her left from her right,” your brother hesitates.

Rick is firm as he states, “Shane, she understood me just fine.”

You, on the other hand, are more rapidly approaching what you and Daryl discussed as ‘postal’ a few days ago. “Wh-what the fuck does that mean, Shane?” you stutter, hands growing more numb by the minute and tears (oh, great) welling up in your eyes. Rick notices and places his left hand on your shoulder.

“Kid’s tired and scared, y’all. She had her a close call with two walkers.” Shane sounds apologetic but convinced as he finishes “Got wonder how much of what you said stuck, man.”

Daryl’s voice rings out next. “Got clear prints right here. She did like you said, headed back to the highway. Let’s spread out, make our way back.”

Your feet are moving as soon as he says he found the a trail. Glenn helps Daryl step up from the creek, Shane helps you and Rick. “She can’t have gone far,” your brother assures everybody.

Before you jog ahead to the front of the pack, he softly says to you and Rick that “Hey. We gonna find her. She’ll be tuckered out hidin’ in a bush somewhere.”

You hold onto hope as you follow Daryl through the woods, back towards the group. Every so often, you shout “Sophia!” and try to make a moderate effort to note the disturbances in the leaves, the faint footprints, and whatever the heck else Daryl has latched onto and is following. You’re still learning how to track, but it’s gotten easier to recognize the signs.

Then you round a hill and he crouches down, so you do the same. And even you can see that Sophia’s direction changed, and dramatically. “She was doing just fine ’til right here,” Daryl narrates, almost to himself. “All she had to do was keep goin’, but she veered off that way.”

Shane crouches beside you and Daryl.

“Why would she do that?” Glenn worries.

“Maybe she saw somethin’ that spooked her, made her run off.”

“A walker?” you and Glenn ask at the same time.

“I don’t see any other footprints,” Daryl offers quietly. “Just hers.”

“And she had no way of telling us whatever went on,” you whisper. You feel unable to move your eyes away from the spot.

“It ain’t over yet,” Shane murmurs to you. Then, he turns his head to Rick and Daryl for their advice. “So what do we do? All of us press on?”

“No. Better if you and Glenn get back up to the highway. People are gonna start panicking,” Rick starts. “Let them know we’re on her trail and doin’ everything we can. But most of all, keep everybody calm. Admit that we found the walkie, be honest, but stress that we’ve got her trail, that Daryl and Y/N are tracking her down.”

Standing, Shane nods. “I’ll keep them busy scavengin’ cars, think up a few other chores. I’ll keep ’em occupied.” To you, he says “I love you, be smart, stick with Rick but run if you gotta. Just come back in one piece and don’t lose that damned walkie-talkie, okay?”

On the trail

Where did...there they are. The trail looked like it ended for a sec, thank God not. “That way?” you clarify with Daryl.

He focuses on where you’re pointing, then nods and grunts back “Seems to be.”

Where on earth is this poor little girl running? She must be so scared and exhausted by now. “Sophia!” you call again.

Rick stops moving. “Tracks are gone.”

“Naw, they’re faint. But they ain’t gone,” Daryl corrects him. “She came through here.”

“How can you tell? I don’t see anything. Dirt, grass.”

You start to explain to Rick that “It gets easi—”

But Daryl cuts in at the same time. “—You want a lesson in trackin’ or do you wanna find that girl and get our ass off that interstate?”

He’s abrasive on the best of days, so you grumble but take it in stride, as does Rick. “It’s basically seeing where there are slight differences in the ground pattern. When I was startin’ out, Daryl described it to me as ‘the ground reacting to changes above it.’”

After a moment of silence, Daryl grates back somewhat shyly “...‘And finding the signs left behind.’ I just wished this little girl left more damned signs.”

Silence takes over, interrupted only by the three of you calling her name every few minutes. You’re uncertain of how much time passes, but the sky is turning yellow.

When a loud snapping echoes from a few yards forward, your heart skips a beat with hope. Rick and Daryl immediately crouch low and keep quiet, however, so you do the same.

Rick takes slow, careful steps forward while you both follow. And of course it’s a walker. What else would it be? Sophia, safe and sound and ready to be brought back to her mother?

Oh hell, and you just let your mind slip to the worst-case scenario of finding Sophia as a walker if not a half-eaten corpse. That is not going to happen. You’re still working through not completely dehumanizing walkers, and that right there just made things in your mind even messier.

Daryl points to you and Rick, then makes a roundabout motion before gesturing with his crossbow and winking. Okay, so you and Rick will act as a distraction while Daryl shoots the walker.

All goes well, minus the fact that it roared (roared! The fuck?). Either way, Daryl puts it down efficiently and promptly rips the bolt out before shouting once more “Sophia!”

You jog up to the top of the incline to get a better view of the area. “Sophia!” Swallowing again to ease the lump in your throat, you radio the group again. “Who’s got the walkie?”

“Dale here,” comes through with some static. “She’s not back yet, kiddo, telling you three would be the first thing we’d do.”

“Okay. How is, um, is Teddy doin’ alright?”

“He’s taking it easy.”

“Carl?”

“We’re keeping him distracted.”

“How about Carol?” you ask quieter.

You hear him sigh. “We’re keeping her distracted, too.”

“We’ll find her.”

With his usual unfailing kindness, he says “If anybody can, it’s you three.”

Your mind falls back on that awful night the quarry was overrun, the day at the CDC, then to today. Each felt like hell in its own way, but you remind yourself: Sophia is only missing. Not gone. T-Dog was injured badly but he’s okay now, he’s strong, and will be fine if no infection takes hold. Carl is safe. Dale is safe, Andrea had a close call but is alright, your brother is alive, everybody is fine and Sophia is simply missing. Right?

Forget that superstitious ‘bad things in threes’ nonsense. Yes, you’re halfway to postal, but today could have gone and could be going a whole lot worse.

...You desperately try to remember this one minute later when Daryl is reaching his hand into the walker’s gutted torso and you’re getting sick behind a decaying log. How he and Rick are steeling their stomachs so well, you have no idea. Daryl was gagging right along with you over some rotten groceries in a cooler a few hours ago, yet he can tolerate this?

“This gross bastard had himself a woodchuck for lunch,” he determines.

At least you know Sophia wasn’t in there.

Also, ewwww, you make him throw those gloves he’d used to check the walker’s stomach contents into the woods, and don’t allow him to touch any of his things until you come across a brook where he can scrub his hands plus that knife.

“Your hands, too, Rick. In fact, toss them gloves, too. The risk of cross cont-t-tamin-t-tam, ugh, con-tam-in-nation is far too big.” Moses, since when do you stress stutter this much? Never mind, you know the answer. Most likely means you’re gonna get a migraine tomorrow. Please, please, please, please, please, let us find her.

Cigarette smoke wafts through the air as Daryl lights up, content to be able to hold his things again since you’ll permit it. He squints at the hazy, darkening sky, then at Rick, then at you. “We’re losin’ the light.”

You know where this is going. “So is she,” you counter.

“Y/N, he’s right.”

Shut up, Rick. “Sophia!” you call out yet again as you try to scrub your hand with the end of your shirt. “Honey, it’s safe, just answer back!”

“I don’t want to leave her either,” Rick insists. He means it. “But if we stay out here, in the dark? We can’t help her or find her if we can’t see well, or if we get hurt or worse.” It’s fast turning into one of his speeches, but he’s too genuine a person that you can’t even consider it showboating. “It would be dangerous for Sophia, too,” he points out. “If we found her but weren’t able to protect her, bring her back safely.”

But that doesn’t mean you don’t retaliate again. “Still safer for her than bein’ alone, at night, in the woods.” Your breathing is becoming too fast and it's causing your fingers to turn shaky and numb once more.

“We are already exhausted, need water, haven’t eaten.”

“S-so is she!” Calm down, Y/N, don’t make a scene. But you can feel the kettle starting to boil...

Daryl cuts in, staring into your eyes and asking plainly, “Hey. You goin’ postal?”

Embarrassed, you cover your face with one hand and wrap your other arm around your waist. “Mmhm,” you breathe.

“I ain’t. Know why I’m all zen?” He taps your wrist so you pull your hand down and look back at him. Then points from you to himself. “’Cause we’re gonna find that little girl. We’re gonna head back, eat and drink somethin’, rest up, and find her trail again tomorrow. Bring her back.”

Looking down at the ground and swallowing, you softly challenge “What do we tell Carol?”

“We tell the truth,” Rick promises. “The trail went cold, and we’ll pick it up again first light, get everybody helping.”

Your shoulders slump in frustration and you shake your head, not wanting to go back but understanding that you had to. You need to check on T-Dog, too, you can’t forget that. “Please let’s be as delicate as possible with her? Life’s kicked that woman around enough, this-this ain’t fair.”

“We will, without a doubt.” He turns his head to Daryl. “Will you organize and lead the search efforts tomorrow? You know the woods better than any of us.”

“Hell yeah, let’s get that girl found.”

So, the three of you make the trip back to the highway.

Self-disgust flows through you when you see Carol waiting by the cars, and you can’t even look at her or the others as you three climb up the hill.

The quiet resignation and defeat in her voice when she understands that Sophia isn’t among you feels physically painful. “You didn’t find her?”

You lean against the guardrail and wave Carl over, pulling him in for a hug and holding onto him.

Rick is the one to break the news. “Her trail went cold. We’ll pick it up again at first light.”

“You can’t leave my daughter out there alone, to spend the night alone, in the woods?” she whimpers.

Daryl speaks next, uncharacteristically soft while remaining characteristically honest. “Out in the dark’s no good. We’d just be tripping over ourselves, more people gettin’ lost.”

“But she’s twelve, she can’t be out there on her own, she lost the walkie a-and, and—” Her voice goes up as she breaks into a sob. You take her hand from where you’re leaning on the guardrail with Carl as she cries out in fear “You didn’t find anything?”

“I know this is hard, but I’m asking you not to panic,” Rick emphasizes.

You squeeze her hand and make clear as best you can that “We know she was out there, and there is a trail.”

“And we tracked her for a while,” Daryl finishes.

Rick then addresses the entire group. “We have to make this an organized effort. Daryl knows the woods better than anybody, I’ve asked him to oversee this.”

Lori takes the seat beside Carol and rubs her back.

“Is th-that blood?” Carol suddenly gasps, noticing that all three of you have some on you.

“Mine’s T-Dog’s,” you quickly explain, after which Rick admits that his and Daryl’s are from a walker, but that it had no connection to Sophia. When questioned, Daryl tells everybody how they’d proved this. “We cut the sumbitch open. Made sure.”

Carol’s handling of things descends into that helpless sort of anger and guilt, towards Rick in particular. Shane has his back, as always, but all you do as they go back and forth is keep holding her hand while your other clings to Carl.

The discussion fades, and the group slowly parts as you all come to terms with the day.

You wash up and change your clothes, then check on T-Dog’s arm before Shane brings you water. He makes you drink the whole thing, then refills it, and has you finish that as well. Next, he gives you something to eat despite your protestations that you can’t eat when you’re worried. “Sophia’s missing and T-Dog’s wound is already beginnin’ to look swollen. One more bad thing’s on its way, Shaney, th-they happen in threes.”

“You still need to eat,” is all your brother responds.

Two barely voluntary bites in and you begin to get that migraine you dreaded would come. You’d run out of your prescription a month ago, so Shane brings you the med bag and fishes out the OTC painkillers and the travel-size bottle of dimenhydrinate. Ineffective as OTCs usually are, it’s far better than nothing, and that dramamine will get you sleeping besides.

The next morning

Armored with your baseball hat and sunglasses, you’re leaning against the RV with Shane and T-Dog while the group figures out (and argues over) what they’re doing for the search and rescue.

Sophia didn’t come back last night. You feel stupid for having hoped she would be there when you woke up. It would also be nice if the sun would stop being so bright and if everybody would stop being so loud.

And, unfortunately, you ain’t going nowhere this morning. Your head is still throbbing and T-Dog’s arm appears to be progressing for the worse.

After Andrea once more voices her indignation over not being armed with a gun, an argument which your brother firmly puts down (he’s easily annoyed by lack of care given to gun safety and dealt with far too many suicide cases as a cop to play around with that), Daryl speaks up and gets things moving.

“The idea is to take the creek up about five miles, turn around, come back down the other side. Chances are, she’ll be by the creek. It’s her only landmark.” He adjusts his crossbow on his shoulder and reminds everyone, “One police radio is gonna be with us, another here. We can also use the little walkies. But they only work within a three-mile or so radius. Keep ’em on anyway.”

“Stay quiet and stay sharp,” Rick says. “Keep space between you but always stay within sight of each other.”

Shane then tells the group to assemble their packs, and pointedly to “Just keep those walkies secure, please.” After this, he and T-Dog chide you to head back inside and lay down, and you’re too beat to consider anything else. Not even whatever Andrea and Dale are arguing about by the door keeps you from falling back to sleep...

That afternoon

As soon as your eyes begin to open, you bolt off the seat and stumble outside, running smack into a very sweaty T-Dog. Damn, is it hot outside.

“Watch it, now,” he says. “Your head good?”

“Good to see you up and about, kiddo,” Dale calls down from the RV.

You drop to your knees at the collection of beverages pilfered from the cars and guzzle down an entire bottle before replying “Any news about Sophia? What time is it?”

“None,” they both reply. And it was almost 2 o’clock, you’d slept way too damned long.

You’re about to inquire about T-Dog’s arm but then you notice that Carl is...“Dale, Teddy, where’s Carl?”

“Carl wanted to help find Sophia—whoa, now, it’s okay, kiddo, he’s got all of those adults out there to protect him. Are you, are you alright?”

You genuinely just got dizzy with worry for a moment. But Dale is right. He’s right. Carl is with his father, mother, Shane, Glenn, and Daryl. He’s safe, you’re simply panicking. This is no reason to go postal. So, you wave it off. “You know how I get about the kids, ain’t nothing, um—Teddy, let me see your arm. You’re sweaty.”

“It’s muggy and nasty out, we all sweaty.” He...doesn’t sound like himself. And he’s acting oddly. You go back into the RV to use the toilet and grab the med bag.

T-Dog calls up to Dale “Ain’t you supposed to be fixing that radiator? What if they come back with Sophia and Rick wants to move on right away?”

“I had it fixed yesterday.”

“What?”

“Huh?” you echo, back outside and just as confused; Dale was still tinkering with before the group headed out.

“What was all that rubbing and sanding for, then, that just bullshit?” T-Dog wants to know. He doesn’t usually speak like that, he’s most certainly acting differently. You carefully peel back his bandage with a gloved hand.

Dale agrees “Yeah, that’s one word. Another word would be...” A shrug. “Pantomime. Just for show.” Then he gives you two a look and states “No one else needs to know that.”

“‘Pantomime,’” T-Dog repeats.

Shit. His wound is infected, just look at it. And all you have is spray antibiotic ointment and pediatric amoxicillin. It’s nothing too serious now, but it could go downhill so quickly...bad things happen in threes...

“If the others know we’re mobile,” Dale explains, “they’ll want to mobilize, and move on.”

“Not without Sophia,” you argue at the same time that T-Dog replies “So you don’t think they’re gonna find Sophia, that it?”

“I’m just guarding against the worst,” he explains patiently. “Sooner or later, if she isn’t found–”

“–She’ll be found,” you interrupt. That was rude and you know it, but it was partially due to you reeling over T-Dog’s new infection and your grogginess after the migraine.

“People will start doing the math,” Dale finishes, still patient. “I want to hold off the needs-of-the-many versus the needs-of-the-few arguments as long as I can.”

It gets quiet for a moment as this sinks in. Lip trembling, you quietly say “I love you, Dale,” as you do all you really can do: spritz T-Dog’s injury and quickly apply new a dressing, complete with more electrical tape in lieu of surgical tape.

T-Dog chuckles to himself and drawls “That is one tricky hose, huh?”

Dale grins wide. “Very.”

Later that afternoon

The group was still in range when you asked where they were, and Glenn told you which direction to head to meet up with them. “And don’t worry, I won’t tell Shane, neither will Carl.” You knew Glenn was holding onto the yellow walkie at the moment, so used your green one to communicate with him. Not the police radio, either Shane or Rick would be holding onto that, and they might would strongly object to you running off solo to join the search party.

Dale lent you his watch, and you gave him strict instructions to keep a close eye on T-Dog and to check the wound if you weren’t back by the time the sun began to set.

“Spray more of that ointment, too. Any darkened veins or striations, skin changes, if he starts actin’ more unlike himself or gets dizzy or cold, use the police radio to let me know.”

What good letting you know would do, you have no idea. You were a phlebotomist who’d just got EMT certified, there’s only so much you know, and have only so much to work with regardless. You’ve already given T-Dog the amoxicillin. His age and body weight meant that his dose ended up being all that was left in the bottle.

There’s no real choice in the matter, you need to find someplace that might have more heavy-duty antibiotics. If that man’s wound turned septic or he contracted tetanus, he could be gone within… ugh, not now. You’ll spiral into that ‘bad things happen in threes’ shit.

And with worry propelling you forward, it’s easy to make headway through the woods. You shout Sophia’s name every so often and simply follow the creek. Plus, the trail the group left was plain, and that comforted you.

You’d never have been able to gun it like this back in the before-times, but today and yesterday it’s as if the fatigue from the exertion isn’t affecting you. The harder you go, the less dread you feel in your gut that Sophia wouldn’t be found alive. The harder you went, the less you were convinced T-Dog would develop sepsis or tetanus and die within a day or two. The harder you went, the less mind you paid to ‘bad things happen in threes.’

“Y/N! D’you hear the bell?” Glenn shouts into the walkie.

Slowing down to reply, you pant as you listen. “No. What kind of bell?”

“Church bell or something, we’re trying to run towards it. I left my hat on a branch as a marker, okay? The sun’s in our eyes, so must be heading...west? I’ll let you know if we change direction!”

“Thank you, Glenn!”

You aren’t sure how long it takes you to reach it, but you’re beyond relieved when you see his baseball hat dangling off that tree. “Found it, man,” you sigh. Slowing down makes your head pound again, so you grab it and push on along the trail they left.

But despite your best efforts, you suddenly start to get tired and need to rely on pure will. Your pace turns into a crawl and your head begins kicking your ass. Postdrome phase from the migraine, plus you haven’t eaten. By the time the trail seems to be leading out of the woods, you’re trudging on fumes.

But a second wind billows through you when you hear the bell (yes!) that abruptly stops (what?).

Still, you head in the direction from where the sound came.

Scurrying up the hill and out of the trees, your eyes fall on tombstones before they hit a quaint little white church. There they are, thank God. You look around expectantly to see if...no, no Sophia.

But it looks like Andrea just argued with Shane. Better not be about a damn gun again. You’re too drained to jog over, so you just walk at a normal pace and catch your breath, waving to Daryl who briefly had his crossbow aimed at you.

The others are walking out of the church and are heading to a shady spot under a tree. When your brother, now talking to Rick, sees you, he stalks over while giving you a look you know all too well that will likely turn into a lecture about safety and responsibility.

“Shane, just give me a hug at leave it at that, please,” you attempt to joke when you get close enough, too tired to argue or care about much other than joining the others in the shade over there.

He looks furious and something else you can’t place—guilty, maybe?—as he reaches you, but does indeed wrap you in a hug, and tightly at that. “We need to chat later.”

“There’s no need,” you warn, squeezing him back.

“No, it’s about somethin’ else. I need you to hear it from me first so I can explain, okay?”

Bad things happen in threes...“What’s it about, then?”

“Later. I, um, just gotta finish up discussing a thing with Rick.”

All you hear of their conversation is something about ‘doubting’ as you walk away. So long as it isn’t about abandoning the search.

“Honey, you look exhausted,” Lori tells you as she walks over to greet you.

“And really sweaty,” Carl is sweet enough to add.

“Love you, too, punk,” you snark. “Almost didn’t see you in that camouflage shirt.” You do love him, though, so damned much. He’s your only nephew left, for one.

“Did Shane speak to you about anything yet?” Lori whispers into your ear.

“No, but he said he needed to. What’s wrong, Lori?” More quietly, you timidly ask “Does it have to do with the search?”

“No,” she responds after a brief hesitation. Whatever is left unspoken in response bring you back to that night at the CDC, when you caught her crying and she acted...strangely about it.

“Hey, y’all,” you say to the rest of the group, now having reached them. You smile and hold out Glenn’s hat. “Thank you for that.”

“Anytime, dude. Glad you’re in one piece.”

“Glenn, T-Dog needs our help. His wound is infected and I’m just assumin’ the worst.”

“Shit, bad things really do happen in threes.“ He counts on his fingers. “RV craps out, Sophia goes missing, now T-Dog’s gash is infected, ugh. He needs antibiotics, then?”

“The prescription kind.”

From behind, you hear footsteps as Shane marches over. “Y’all gonna follow the creek bed back, okay? Daryl, you’re in charge. Me and Rick, we’re just gonna hang back, search this area another hour or so just to be thorough.”

“You’re splittin’ us up. You sure?” Daryl questions.

“Y-yeah, we’ll catch up to you.”

Before you can say anything, Carl pipes up. “I wanna stay, too. I’m her friend. I’ve got her walkie-talkie so I can return it when we find her,” he says, holding up the pink one.

You expect a solid “no” to follow the dead silence after this statement, but Lori shares a look with Rick and instead says “Just be careful, okay?”

“I will.”

That decides it, you are staying as well. One kid is already missing If something happened to Carl, that would well and truly send you full postal. “Glenn, when I get back, let’s head out?”

“There’s bound to be a pharmacy around here, I’ll look around at Dale’s roadmaps to see if there are any listed. Wait, I have the police walkie, I’ll ask him now,” he says before stepping away to use it.

Daryl’s walking to you. “Hey, you even okay to stay? Ya look like shit.”

For the first time that day, you chuckle. “Well, bless your heart.”

“Nah, m’serious, your head okay?”

“Do you mean if I gone full postal yet?” you half-joke.

He tuts, then says “Just don’t pass out or nothing. Stick by your brother, yeah?”

“Same to you. Keep the morale up, too. If anybody can, it’ll be our tracker,” you say, gesturing to him.

One corner of his mouth twitches up, and you part ways. You see he gives Lori his handgun so that Rick will hold onto his.

As their group leaves, Rick tells you and Shane “Gimme a minute,” before heading into the church. You bite your lip and decide against going inside with him. He’ll want privacy, anyway. He isn’t religious, so going in means he’s searching.

It’s just…houses of worship were among the first places on which people took out anger, during the rioting back when it all fell apart. The seminary your friend Suri had been at, for a start. Seeing a church so un-vandalized is a nice change.

Carl, your brother, and you sit quietly on the steps as you wait. You’d be content to lay back and fall asleep again, to be honest. Carl begins talking to you on the pink walkie. After cracking up, you answer back on your green one and carry on a short, silly conversation with him about what Fort Benning will be like. Everything feels brighter to you around that kid.

Shane remains quiet. There’s this weird sadness in his expression. Kind of like longing and guilt and…maybe jealousy, all rolled into one. He’s been weird like that for weeks.

When Rick walks out a minute or two later, Shane asks him if he got what he needed. Rick doesn’t sound pleasant when he mutters “Guess we’ll find out.”

Keeping up with him, you gently point out “Just remember prayer ain’t a magic formula or proof of purchase.”

The light turns more golden as you four walk through the woods. You’re looking for any tracks or signs, but other than deer, you can’t tell. Daryl should be here.

But all is otherwise quiet except when you call out for Sophia.

When a branch snaps you all freeze. You pull Carl close and take your screwdriver out as Shane steps in front of you both, while Rick looks around and holds his hand up as he listens for more movement.

You follow his line of sight through the trees and see—oh, wow!

A buck? It’s not even—this is amazing! Look at it, it’s stepping out into the clearing!

And Carl has got the purest smile on his face.

“How jealous will Mr. Dixon be when you tell him this?” you whisper as softly as possible into his ear as he—oh, okay, he’s walking closer to it. That means you’re right on his tail, naturally. If the buck gets spooked, there’s a small chance it might will attack. Not on your watch.

Slowly, slowly, Carl and you approach it. You look back twice at Rick to see if he wants him to stop, but he just smiles and shakes his head.

“Avoid starin’ into his eyes, bud, okay?” you hush. After a twig snaps, you almost grab him and duck as when animal turns its head towards you.

Cautiously, you guide Carl more sideways, towards the buck’s center of mass. Less threatening that way. Then you kneel behind him with your hands on his shoulders to make you two look smaller. Carl is just grinning away in awe at the magnificent thing, blindly walking forward.

At this point, you halt him from getting any closer. This little punk will be the death of you.

Not that you’d mind; you’d do so gladly. He’s worth it all. And for his sake, you can believe that Sophia is fine, Teddy will be fine, and you can forget that anxiety that something awful is waiting just around the corner.

And then a blast echoes through the woods and that little boy gets thrown back and crumples out of your arms and onto the ground.

69 notes · View notes

talesofstyles · 4 years

Text

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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nataliedanovelist · 3 years

Text

GF - The Sapling of His Labors

A Drifting Stars AU one-shot, in collaboration with @clownwry.

1st, 2nd, 4th.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford hummed an old tune to himself as he worked on dinner. Rather than sitting in front of a fire-pit in the middle of nature, butchering food to make it edible, he was blessed to be standing in a humble kitchen with a stove, cabinets, counters, and everything. The only thing he didn’t have was a fridge or freezer, but that was okay. Ford worked calmly and at his own pace as he chopped up the onion, blinking the burning feeling away, and he used his knife to scoop the diced pieces of onion into the hot skillet, and it sizzled and immediately smelled good.

Ford smiled as he added the green bell pepper, and other delicious things from the garden, and then he gave the veggies and herbs a stir with his hand-carved wooden spoon. Estimating that dinner would be ready soon, he walked across the kitchen, through the living room with a fireplace, two rocking chairs, and a large homemade three-way desk with two chairs, and to the front door.

The top half of the dutch door was already open, so he leaned against the bottom half of the door to watch his little girl run around with other kids her age, playing tag. “Mabel, honey, dinner!” He called. “Will you please bring some water when you come?”

“Okay!” Mabel called back cheerfully, and Ford trusted her to end the game soon and say goodnight to her friends as he went back to dinner.

The veggies were cooking well, so Ford threw some of Mabel’s special homemade butter into another pan, let it melt, and then he carefully laid two filleted fish down to cook.

The bottom half of the dutch door opened and Mabel came in with a bucket of water from their well. She grinned at the sight of him and sat the bucket down to use a ladle to pour some water into wooden cups. “Ms. Mahogany asked about you again.”

“Oh?” Ford raised an eyebrow at her, his smile still present.

“Yeah, I told her how just last night you told me you were lonely and only wanted someone to hold at night…”

Ford barked a laugh that Mabel joined in with, but she continued as she set the table. “Then she said her son is still single if…”

“Mabel, please!” Ford guffawed with rosy cheeks as he flipped the fish. “I wish you would stop trying to set me up with everyone in town.”

“But I’m a great matchmaker!”

“I know you are. Why not focus on someone else’s love-life?” Ford suggested as he began to plate the veggies.

“I don’t really care about everyone else’s love-life.” Mabel said with a shrug as she sat.

Ford snorted as he platted the fish on top of the veggies, one plate slightly smaller than the other.

“Well, not nearly as much as I care about you.” Mabel elaborated, and smiled sweetly at her uncle as he turned to set the food at the table. “I just want you to be happy, Grunkle Ford.”

The old man was a bit surprised by this, but he smiled softly and said, “I am happy, darling.” He sat the plates and himself down where they belonged, then patted his lap. “Come here.”

The girl didn’t hesitate to crawl into his lap and let him hug her. “I’ve got you.”

“Yeah, but imagine how much happier you’d be if you had me and a partner!” Mabel said optimistically.

Ford chuckled and brushed her shoulder-length hair with his six fingers. “Sweetie, I’m much happier now than I ever thought I would be.”

Mabel grinned at him and hugged him around the neck, allowing Ford to squeeze her gently and hug her back.

A little while later they sat by the fireplace, Ford in his rocking chair, and Mabel by his socked feet, propping her back against his leg as she knitted away. Ford used to tease her and wonder why he even built her a rocking chair, but once she explained she felt more comfortable against him, he let it go. Maybe next time they go to the store, he should trade fish for fabric so he can build a couch.

The eldest read a book out-loud while Mabel knitted, their favorite thing to do in the evening, when all they had for light was the fireplace and lanterns and the stars, but there were no stars tonight. Rain peacefully trickled down outside. They left the dutch door open to enjoy the smells and sounds and cool air, not a hint of a storm in sight.

Ford was enjoying the book, but not nearly as much as he enjoyed looking down at his beautiful girl. The sounds of her needles clicking as she worked, the way her brown eyes twinkled, the blush on her round cheeks, the shine in her hair. Ford had no idea what in the Multiverse he did to deserve her… No, he didn’t deserve her, but he was still grateful for her, and beyond happy he somehow managed to give her a happy life.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford was very excited, too excited to let his little girl sleep in too much. True that he purposely got up early to get the eggs, milk the cow, and let the sheep out for her, but he decided to surprise her earlier rather than later, so he made her some pancakes and eggs, squeezed her some fresh orange juice, put a pretty flower on the tray for decoration, and tucked the present wrapped in parchment and card under his arm.

A soft knock alerted Mabel of company, and her door opening and a warm voice fully woke her up. “Mabel, honey,”

She grinned and sat up in her bed. Ford had no regrets. All his hard work was worth it for that smile. “Happy Birthday.”

Mabel was absolutely delighted by the sweet surprise, but a bit disheartened when she saw no plate for her uncle. She raised an eyebrow suspiciously at him, still too used to his bad habit of skipping meals so she could eat. Well, he didn’t have to do that anymore. “Grunkle Ford, where’s your breakfast?”

Ford smiled and chuckled. “Don’t worry, it’s all fixed and downstairs waiting for me.”

Mabel smiled again and said, “Why don’t you eat up here with me? Then I’ll open my present!”

Ford nodded. That seemed like an even better idea than eating separately. So Ford retrieved his mug of coffee and pancakes, and when he sat at the foot of Mabel’s bed, she opened the card. There was no glitter to decorate it with and the card wasn’t nearly as colorful as Mabel would have made it, but Ford still drew plenty of pretty pictures for her and wrote plenty of kind words, and more importantly, he made it just for her.

Mabel grinned and thanked him for the card, sitting by her nightstand and candle so she could see it every day, and then she tore into her present. She gasped happily and squealed at the gift. Mabel had seen Ford sew here and there, but she didn’t know this was what he was working on.

It was a large quilt. It had many different patches, some with colors, some with pictures of animals, one with a shooting star and one with a six-fingered hand. There were so many different patches that Mabel felt she could look and look without seeing every detail.

Ford rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “I asked everyone in town if they had scraps of cloth. I wasn’t sure what to get you, but you deserve something nice, and…”

“Grunkle Ford, I love it!” And Mabel let her new quilt fall on her lap so she could hug him tightly around the waist. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I’ll use it forever! I love you, thank you!”

Ford chuckled and hugged her back tightly. “Y-You’re welcome.”

It wasn’t much, but it was better than what he could have done for her before.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford ran as fast as he could. He didn’t care how sharply branches pricked his face or how many times he stubbed his toe on a rock or tree root. The screaming rang in his ears. Mabel needed him.

He was grateful to find Mabel up in a tree, safe, but not for long. At the base of the tree was a giant black bear, roaring and growling and scratching the tree. It wouldn’t be long until the bear decided to try to climb. Ford gritted his teeth and allowed instincts to take over, animal vs animal.

Ford threw a rock and it hit the bear on the neck, making it forget the human cub in the tree and turn to the adult to roar warningly. Then Ford shot his crossbow and it hit the bear right in the shoulder, close to the chest, but not quite enough to kill it, only to anger it. Mabel screamed for Ford to run away, to get away, but Ford stood his ground as the bear charged at him and he rolled out of the way just in time, then shot the bear again, this time hitting it’s back.

The bear turned and roared at Ford, and he was prepared to pull the knife out of his boot and do some real damage, tired of giving warnings that the bear wasn’t hearring. But then something made everyone freeze. A small wheezing roar. A squeak from a cub. The little baby black bear ran out from the bushes and to its mother, who nuzzled the cub with her nose and stood protectively. Ford lowered his crossbow and nodded. Mabel must have accidentally stumbled across the cub, must have gotten too close, and the mother was being overprotective.

The mother roared once more at the humans and ran off into the woods with her cub, taking the arrows lodge in her with her. Well, good. That’s what she gets for going near Ford’s niece. Speaking of…

Ford turned to the tree and looked up at the frightened girl. “Mabel, are you hurt?”

“N-No. I’m okay.” Mabel looked at the spot where the bears disappeared and bit her lip. “I… I didn’t even see the baby one…”

Ford smiled and nodded. “It’s alright. You’ll find parents are quite protective of their kids. Can you climb down?”

Mabel nodded and carefully made her way down the tree. When she was about halfway down, she leaped into Ford’s arms and they hugged each other tightly, the crossbow still in Ford’s hand.

“Oh, Mabel, I was so worried…”

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry…”

“Shh, hey, it’s alright. I’m not mad.”

“I thought you… I thought…” Mabel mumbled into his shoulder, her grip on his coat extremely tight.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. I’ve got you.” Ford muttered to her as he walked them home. “I’ve got you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford walked home from the ocean, smiling with the large net filled with fish on his back. Mabel was with the sheep, as usual, and smiled and waved when she saw his safe return. The leaves were changing colors and the air was getting more comfortable and crisp. Soon winter would be with them, and rather than fish for money, Ford planned to build music boxes and carve toys, a brilliant idea Mabel had when she noticed how he missed tinkering and building. He enjoyed fishing, but it wasn’t like the old lab work that made him proud.

The next day, like always, Ford walked home and saw Mabel among the sheep, but this time she was chatting with a boy her age. Ford had seen the boy before, Mabel labeling him as a friend, but the old man couldn’t help but wonder if he should be putting money away for a small wedding, a thought that made his blood boil and his heart swell at the same time.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford gave the soup another stir before ladling it into a bowl. Poor Mabel sat on the newly built couch, wrapped in her quilt, close to the fire, her cheeks and nose cherry red and dark circles under her eyes as she sneezed and coughed. Ford wasn’t as worried for her as he normally would be; it was just a bad cold. She would be alright.

Weirdly enough, Mabel’s brain had decided to call it quits and she was nothing more than a rag doll, barely interactive and aware of her surroundings, which was fine by Ford. He could take care of her and the house just fine. He smiled softly and sat next to her, holding out a spoonful of warm soup for her. “Here you are, my dear. This will make you feel better.”

Shakily Mabel ate the bite she was given, but it burned and made her cough roughly. Ford rubbed her back and stirred the soup to cool it down a little. “That's it, easy does it. There we go, I’m sorry, sweetie.”

The second time was the charm; Mabel was able to swallow a second spoonful of warm soup no problem. She actually made a weak smile, then muttered to Ford, “Thanks Daddy,” and coughed roughly into her quilt. She patiently waited for her next spoonful, unaware of what she had done to Ford.

She had said it so innocently, so quietly… Was it possible, that in her weakened state, Mabel thought she was back home with her father? Even though she seemed out of it, she did seem aware of where they were; a few minutes ago, when Ford was making the soup, she had asked if the sheep were put away. And she had thanked Ford for making the soup when he first started on dinner. So, maybe, there was a small possibility that Mabel knew exactly who she was talking to, and she articulated with a title that felt fitting to her.

Ford smiled with a bit lip and held out the spoon filled with soup for her. “Y-You’re welcome.”

He smiled sympathetically as she sniffed again, her poor sinuses turned against her. But then she sniffed again, louder, and Ford began to notice it sounded different…

He also began to notice he was sore. And lying down. And wrapped up, like he was tucked in for bed.

Ford was pulled from his dreams and was sluggishly half-awake, his eyes still closed, and he bought his body some time to gather some strength by paying attention to his blind surroundings.

He could hear and feel a fire going. He was lying in a sleeping bag on the ground, and he could tell there were other things keeping him warm and wrapped up. Some damp cloth was on his forehead. And he could hear crying.

Ford forced his eyes open slowly and he discovered someone had taken his glasses off. He forced himself to work with his blurry vision and he sat up a little, leaning on his arm for support in search of his niece. She sat a few feet away, in a tight bundle. If Ford had to guess, she was hugging her knees and hiding her face in her arms and knees. “Mabel…”

She lifted her head up quickly, but then hid her face again, looking away from him and wiping her face dry with the sleeves of her coat.

“Hey, no,” Ford said softly, taking the damp cloth off his forehead. “None of that, you don’t ever have to hide anything from me. What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“N-No,” Mabel cleared her throat and finally turned to look at him; he was a little disheartened to see her trying to smile and still hide what was bothering her. “I’m okay. H-How do you feel? Tea is almost ready.” And she scooted closer to the fire on her knees to check on the teapot.

Ford sighed tiredly, his lips tight to try to keep her from hearing it. “Mabel…”

“Oh, here!” Mabel reached into a pocket of her uncle’s backpack and pulled out his glasses for him. “I thought I’d better take them off you so your face wouldn’t hurt.”

Ford smiled and accepted the visual aid. “Ah, thank you.” He slipped his glasses on and more clues came to his senses.

They were in the middle of the desert. Well, not entirely in the middle, it looked like there was a jungle a few yards behind them. Ford had also been blanketed with sweaters for extra warmth in the cold desert night. Everything seemed well in order and normal, except when Ford looked at his poor little girl. Her hair was a mess, frizzled and… Ford recognized that hairstyle. His hair often looked like that after he grabbed at it too roughly and tried to pull his hair out. There were dark circles under her eyes, eyes that didn’t sparkle. That legitimately scared Ford.

“Mabel…”

“Good! Tea is ready.” Mabel turned away from him again, refusing to look at him as she pulled out a cup for her uncle and poured him some hot drink. “Here, it’ll make you feel better.”

Ford accepted the drink and sat up fully. “Thank you.” He sipped it and watched Mabel carefully. She didn’t pour herself a cup. Or bring out the water canteen for something else to drink. Instead she held her knees and watched the fire dance. He opened his mouth to ask her if she was alright, but she beat him to it.

“How are you feeling? Does anything hurt? H-How’s your neck?”

“My neck?” Ford touched his throat, a bit confused, and answered, “I feel fine. Nothing hurts. Why?”

“We were ambushed. You got shot. You… You had a bad fever and wouldn’t wake up.” Mabel, still refusing to look at him, held out a dart to him that had been lying on the sand. “Here. I thought you might wanna study it.”

Ford adjusted his glasses and held the dart. It was quite long, but very skinny, and it had a red bull point at the top, like a sewing needle, but Ford recognized the dart. “Interesting. These are Hummie darts. They’re sold through the dimensions, they’re very useful for bounty hunting. See, the top here is filled with poison, just enough to render the body useless and to also hypnotize the target in a deep, dream-filled sleep. Oftentimes the dreams are the victim’s happiest memories or goals, so they won’t try to wake up. It’s also very fascinating because the side-effects are next to none, this makes these darts ideal if you want to bring someone in for questioning or for next-to-perfect condition.”

But Mabel wasn’t listening. Her eyes were still on the fire, she was still holding her knees, but her mind was elsewhere. Ford watched her mournfully and tried to remember what had happened.

Oh. Right.

They were in a different dimension than this one. They had been laughing and playing in the woods, unaware of who they were attracting. By the time Ford hoisted a laughing girl on his shoulders, a dart barely missed him and it hit a tree, causing him to run while Mabel shot pop-rocks with her slingshot. Ford can now remember feeling a tiny prick by his neck. He had hoped Mabel had accidentally pinched or pulled some skin on his neck, but she was horrified to have let a dart get past her. Ford managed to stop running and put Mabel down safely, shaking his head and even slapping himself to try to stay awake and attentive, but just as he was sharing a plan with her, he fell on his knees and collapsed into the grass, the last thing he heard was Mabel’s desperate please to be okay. Not to stay awake, not to help, but to be okay.

Ford put the dart and his tea down on the ground. “Oh, Mabel… You were amazing. Absolutely amazing! You saved us. You saved my life.”

“M-Maybe if I hadn’t asked you to play with me…”

“They were relentless. I’m glad we had fun and played.”

Mabel held herself tighter and turned her head away so it was out of sight. That broke Ford’s heart. What he wouldn’t give for her to just look at him. Had he done something? Had he scared her? He had heard that while under the influence of the Hammie darts, the body is as useless as a ragdoll, but… Oh. Maybe that had scared her. Mabel had no way of knowing what the darts did, she had no idea what kind of poison they were filled with. Did she refuse to look at Ford because when she did all she saw was the shadow of a dead man?

“Mabel,” Ford croaked longingly, and he opened his arms. “Please come here.”

Mabel was trembling. She sniffed again and swallowed a sob down.

She was a Pines, after all. She was going to be stubborn. So Ford scooted himself and the sleeping bag and pile of sweaters. He carefully began to scoop her up, but she finally broke and turned and hugged him around the neck, sobbing into his shoulder and allowing him to hold her close and burrow her in his arms and sweaters and sleeping bag.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright now.” Ford petted her hair and closed his eyes, giving everything he had into making her feel better. “I’m okay, I swear. You did an incredible job.”

“I thought… I thought…” Mabel croaked and swallowed to try to communicate better. “Y-Your eyes… they rolled! Into… y-y-you looked d…” And she choked and sobbed and held him so tightly her fingers ached, but she didn’t care.

Now Ford had never heard of that side-effect before. “Oh, Mabel, honey…”

“I k-k-know you’re okay now… I know… but I th-th-thought I was g-gonna lose you!” Mabel cried out, her throat sounding like it was going to tear in half.

“I’m sorry…” Ford cooed to her and adjusted her so she laid by his heart and he felt her hands. Holy Moses, she was so cold. “I’m so sorry. I’m not going anywhere, I promise. I love my little starshine too much to be anywhere else.”

Mable hiccuped a weak giggle and she nuzzled her cheek against his chest. “I love you, too, D-Grunkle Ford.”

Yup. Ford wasn’t shedding tears alongside her. No. A raindrop must have fallen on his cheek. On a cloudless night. Yeah, that was it.

#GF #gravity falls #gravity falls au #drifting stars au #fanfiction #MORE SWEATER-TWINS BONDING #clownwry #gift

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prettyboyjackhughes · 3 years

Text

-Little Crosby- |D. Cozens| [Part 1]

It’s finally here! @workhorsefromwhitehorse24 and I have been working on this for a while now and I can honestly say that this is probably my favorite thing we’ve collaborated on! This was a little outside my comfort zone but I enjoyed writing it so much! Hope you enjoy! Let us know what you think!!

“Ava Grace I’m home!” Dad calls from downstairs. I sit up and grab my sweatshirt off of the floor.

“Coming!” I say as I pull it over my head and run out into the hall. I attempt to make it down the stairs without dying but almost fail as I get to the bottom step. “Whoops! Sorry!” I yell as I knock one of the pictures off the wall. He stands in the kitchen doorway and watches me, amused, as I fix the picture then turn to face him, a grin on my face. He had been gone for 2 weeks on a 5 game road trip, resulting in the Penguins going 4-1. Dad scored a pair of goals in the first two games. But sadly, it wasn’t enough of a push to get them to the playoffs.

“Hi Daddy!” I say, running to hug him. He lifts me off the ground and kisses the top of my head. Dad and I have always been super close. It’s been just him and I for years. Ever since I was born, it’s just been Dad and I. Grandma and Grandpa were always in the picture too, along with Aunt Taylor. The 4 of them have been my entire world and my family for the past 17 years. My mom has never been in the picture since she and Dad had me when they were super young, before Dad was in the NHL. Dad had moved from Nova Scotia by himself when he was 15, down to Faribault, Minnesota. Mom and Dad met within his first week of school. Dad tells me I look just like her but from what I can tell, the older I get, the more I look like Dad. But basically one thing turned to another, Dad had his first taste of freedom, being away from his parents and all, and 9 months later, I was born. As soon as Grandma and Grandpa found out, they moved Taylor and everything else down to be with my dad and help out with me. But one Saturday, Mom dropped me off with Dad and told him she had decided she wanted more than raising a baby and my dad so she left me with Dad and left. I’ve never heard from her, except for one birthday card when I turned 6. Grandma and Grandpa raised me alongside Taylor until Dad’s first season in the NHL. That’s when he moved me to Pittsburgh with him. I mean, before he was in the NHL, he made sure that he was a part of my life and made sure I knew that I was his little girl. But it hasn’t really been that big of a deal that Mom hasn’t been in the picture since I’ve had Dad, Grandma and Grandpa, and Aunt Taylor, plus all of Dad’s teammates through the years. It’s been a ride, having a dad like I do. I mean, he’s pretty much the face of the NHL and one of the greatest players to ever play hockey, being Sidney Crosby and all. Everywhere we go, he gets recognized so it was always hard for him to come to my things as I was growing up. But he always made sure that someone was there for me, whether it was one of my grandparents or Aunt Taylor. But even through all of that, my dad is my best friend. I’ve never needed anyone else.

“I missed you so much!” He says, setting me down and looking at me. I smile and nod.

“I missed you too! Nice set of goals by the way. Sorry about the playoffs...” I say, smiling as he walks into the kitchen. He shrugs as I follow him into the kitchen and sit down at the table, watching him wander around the kitchen, making one of his shakes he always drinks.

“It was a long two weeks for sure, but I’m glad I have you to come home too.” I nod and smile.

“Oh Sweetheart, before I forget, we’re going up to Toronto next weekend for the Leafs’ first playoff game, for your birthday. We’ll spend two weeks up in Toronto.” The Penguins missed out on the playoffs, ending their season early. But my Leafs made it to the first round of the playoffs. He smiles as my face lights up. The Toronto Maple Leafs are my favorite team. As disappointed as Dad was in me when he found out, he still supports it, just happy that I like hockey. My favorite player is Mitch Marner, which is a player Dad approves of. He raised me on the ice, around his team and made sure I loved hockey as much as he does. I played for 6 years but I decided I liked watching hockey better than playing.

“Really? We are?” I say, giddy.

“Yep, I think Tanger and Geno are going to come with us. I invited Taylor too, figured we could make a whole vacation of the trip. We can go out to dinner, shopping, all the fun, girly stuff you love. Oh and there’s a surprise flying out to see you too.” Kris Letang and Evgeni Malkin are Dad’s alternate captains and my honorary uncles. Up until about 4 years ago, I had 3 honorary uncles. Marc-André Fleury, the Penguins' goalie and now the Vegas Golden Knights’ goalie was the third. He and Dad are still close which means he still claims the third honorary uncle spot. When he got married in 2012, I was the flower girl. I’ve actually been in all 3 of my “uncle’s” weddings. They’ve been a huge part of my life since I was little, even when Dad was trying to keep me out of the spotlight. I smile, pushing my hair out of my face. I think the thing that everyone always finds so interesting about Dad and I, is that he did such a good job keeping me out of the spotlight up until I was old enough to understand what was going on. But as soon as I started going to events with him, everyone knew I was his daughter. I mean, I look and act like a female version of Dad so it makes perfect sense that I’m his daughter.

“Ava girl, do you want to see if one of your friends wants to come with us? Might be a little boring to spend your birthday weekend with a bunch of old people.” Dad says, finally sitting down with his gross shake. I nod and laugh, thinking of who I could invite. I go to Shady Side Academy in downtown Pittsburgh, which is a big, fancy private school. There’s a little over 1,100 kids that go to my school, but only about 70 of them are in my grade.

“Oh, I’ll invite Carter. Let me text her and see if she can go.” Carter James has been my best friend since 2nd grade. She’s my total opposite and somehow, it works.

“Okay Honey. I’m going to go lay down for a little bit. Our flight left pretty early this morning so I’m pretty tired. Go ahead and order something for dinner. Anything but pizza please.” I pout a little, my bottom lip jutting out. He smiles and drops a kiss on the top of my head as he walks out of the kitchen and up the stairs. I walk out to the living room and flop on the couch, getting on my phone to watch Tik Tok for a while. Suddenly, the door to the house flies open and my Aunt Taylor waltzes in.

“Hello my absolute favorite niece in the entire world!” She calls, dumping her purse and everything in her hands onto the bench by the door. Grandma decorated the entire house. Dad was going to hire a decorator but Grandma insisted and somehow, Dad ended up liking what she did with the place.

“I’m your only niece so I hope I’m your favorite. But hey Aunt Tay. What’s up?” I asked, sitting up.

“Nothing much. Just came home to drive my big brother crazy and talk about your birthday trip with you. How excited are you? Hey wait, isn’t it your 18th birthday?” I smile and nod again. Aunt Tay is a little scatterbrained and once forgot how old I was turning and bought me a 13th birthday card. I was turning 11. But of course, she always means well and loves me a ton.

“Carter is coming with us. Do you know what the surprise is? Dad just told me there is one but didn’t say anything else.” Taylor grins as she nods.

“I’m not telling you but just know this, you’re gonna be really really excited.” She says, sitting down on the couch by my feet.

“So how’s things at school? Still thinking about going to UPenn?” She asks, tapping her thumb against my knee. I sigh.

“Ugh I don’t know anymore. I fell in love with UPenn when I visited there with Grandma last fall but I don’t know if I want to be that far away from everyone. I mean, it’s only 4 hours but going from how things are now to that? That’s a lot to process.” She nods, watching me.

“Well Honey, you know your dad would make sure you had a car on campus and everything. So you can always come back home and visit. But I mean, it’s been you and your dad since you were a baby. Maybe it’s time to go out on your own a little?” I cringe a little at the thought.

“I don’t wanna leave!” I say, falling into Taylor’s lap and drawing out the end of the word. She laughs and smooths my hair down.

“We’ll figure something out. You’ve still got time, Ava Grace.” She says and somehow, those words make all the anxiety I have about college and everything else coming up in my future fade to a dull roar instead of the screams it has been for the past couple weeks. I’ve always been able to talk to Dad about anything which is why he and I have such a good relationship now. But the one thing I haven’t been able to talk to him about is college. Dad went straight from high school into the NHL. He always claims to understand but I’m pretty sure it just confuses him sometimes.

“Okay you two, it’s very hard to sleep when all I can hear is laughing and carrying on.” Dad says, coming back downstairs.

“Yeah yeah, keep it down, Patrick.” Taylor says, looking up at Dad. Dad hates being called by his middle name which is why Taylor calls him that. He rolls his eyes and bats her hand away as she reaches up to poke him. When the two of them are together, Grandma always says they act like they did when they were little.

“Have you girls figured out everything for us leaving on Thursday? Ava, is Carter going with us?” I grab my phone off the arm of the couch and turn it on, quickly reading the notifications on the screen.

“Yeah she’s going. And she’s gonna be here in 3, 2, 1!” I count down as the door bursts open again. Carter and my Aunt Taylor are two peas in a pod. They’re practically the same person which is why I love them both so much.

“Hello Crosby family!” She shouts, sliding across the floor and landing on top of me.

“Oh this is going to be a long two weeks.” Dad says, laughing and rubbing his forehead.

“So we’re going to Toronto for your 18th birthday? And to see the love of your life? Hell yeah this is going to be a great trip.” Carter says, looking up at me.

“Okay, Carter James, slow down please.” I say, patting her head.

“Wait, isn’t the legal drinking age in Canada, 18?” Carter asks, sitting up and looking at Dad.

“Oh my God Sidney Patrick. You’re taking your daughter to Canada to drink for her 18th birthday?” Taylor says, looking over at Dad with a smirk on her face.

“Taylor Jane, you’d better cut it out or you’re not going anymore.” He says, shaking his finger at her. Carter and I laugh and Taylor rolls her eyes.

“She’s responsible enough to handle this. You two are the ones I have to worry about.” Dad says, pointing at Carter and Aunt Taylor.

“Tanger and Geno are going too? Oh this is going to be a blast!” Taylor says, rubbing her hands together and grinning evilly. Dad’s head drops into his hands and the 3 of us burst out laughing. Carter and I spend the rest of the evening planning our trip out while Dad and Aunt Taylor watch the St. Cloud game. The week leading up to our trip to Toronto flies by, but my excitement for the game only builds. It’s not the first time I’ve been to a Leafs game, nor is it the first time I’ve gotten to watch my favorite player play. But it’s happening on my 18th birthday and that makes it even more exciting.

Thursday morning, two days before my birthday, Carter wakes me up by bouncing on my bed.

“We’re leaving today!” She sings, bouncing more. I roll over and groan.

“Carter James, it’s too early!” I say, shoving her. She laughs at me and I sit up.

“Come on, we’re going to dinner with the love of your life tonight!” She says. I jump out of bed and look at her, eyes wide. I’m 100% a Mitch Marner fan girl. Carter thinks it’s hilarious but she’s the exact same way for Patrick Kane. We ran into him at the Stanley Cup Finals one year and she was speechless.

“What are you talking about? Dinner with who?” I ask. Dad walks in and is now standing in my doorway.

“I called in a few favors and we’re going to dinner with Mitch Marner and Morgan Rielly tonight. How does that sound?” He says, as my mouth drops open.

“Oh my God thank you thank you Daddy!” I say, running over to hug him. He smiles and Carter laughs.

“She’s gonna faint as soon as she sees him. Total freak out.” Carter says, crossing her arms and laughing.

“I am not! I’ll be perfectly fine. It’s just another hockey player. Not like I’m in love with him or anything.” I say, pointing at her. She rolls her eyes and we both laugh.

“Where my favorite birthday girl?” I hear a deep voice call from downstairs.

“Geno, it’s too early for you to be this loud. Shut up.” I hear Taylor say.

“I take it G and Tanger just got here?” Dad calls and Taylor groans in response.

“Alright girls get ready and we’ll leave in a little over an hour. Go down and say hi to everyone first though.” I nod and follow Dad downstairs, Carter tagging along behind me.

“Hi Uncle Geno, Uncle Kris!” I say, running to hug both of them as they stand up from where they were sitting on the couch. Taylor is taking up the other end of the couch, facedown in a pillow. “Are you excited for your birthday trip?” Kris asks, patting my back as he hugs me.

“I’m so excited. Do you know what my surprise is? Dad still won’t tell me.” Geno laughs, still too loud for Taylor apparently because a pillow goes flying across the room and just misses his head.

“Tay, go drink some coffee please, you’re being a brat right now.” Dad says, patting her head.

“I know surprise. You like a lot.” Geno says, crossing his arms and looking down at me. I raise an eyebrow. I’ve been the victim of one of Dad’s surprises before and let’s just say he doesn’t have the best track record when it comes to surprises.

“Is it bad that I’ve been your best friend for 12 years and I still can’t understand what he’s saying?” Carter asks, leaning over to me. I laugh and Geno looks between the two of us.

“Who you? You Ava’s best friend?” Carter rolls her eyes and nudges Geno, who laughs again and hugs her. “Alright, Little Crosby, let’s get this show on the road.” Kris says, pointing towards the stairs. I smile and rush upstairs to get dressed and grab my bags. I pick out a pair of black leggings and a peach colored Adidas sweatshirt. I change into the clothes and put my pajamas in the dirty clothes. I put on mascara quickly, finishing everything off with some lip gloss. I grab my Birkenstocks and slip them on.

“Okay, I’m ready!” I call as I drag my bag down the stairs behind me. I again attempt not to die on my way down the stairs. But yet again, I fail.

“Oh God, Little Crosby.” Kris says, somehow managing to catch me as I trip down the last 3 steps.

“Your daughter is a human wrecking ball. You know that, right Sid?” Dad laughs and nods.

“I haven’t killed myself yet. So far, we’re safe.” Everyone laughs and I smile. All these people filling this house are my entire family. They’ve raised me and I wouldn’t be who I am without all of them.

“Okay, let’s get going! Our flight leaves in 45 minutes!” Dad calls, attempting to herd us all towards the door. Taylor has finally had her coffee and returned to the world of the living.

“Toronto here we come!” She calls as we all get out the door and into the two cars we’re taking. Dad locks the door behind us and turns to look at me.

“You excited, Ava Grace?” I nod and he hugs me to his side.“I hope this lives up to your idea of the perfect 18th birthday.” I laugh and nod again as we head to his car.

The drive to the airport and the flight to Toronto are pretty boring but Kris and Taylor keep everyone entertained the whole trip. Carter finally crashed after the Red Bulls she had while we were waiting for our flight to get called in the airport, leaving me to my own thoughts pretty much the entire flight. When we land in Toronto, everyone is pretty excited for the next two weeks.

“Little Crosby surprise time!” Geno calls from the back of our group.

“Geno, we’re still in an airport. Keep it down a little please?” Carter says, patting his arm. Dad scoffs and looks between me and Carter.

“He’s right though, your surprise is right through those doors.” Dad says, pointing towards the exit of the airport. I see Taylor pull her phone out of her pocket and start recording me. I hand my bag to Kris and look over at Geno who motions me towards the door. I walk towards the doors, which slide open. I glanced around then back at Dad and Taylor who followed me out.

“Little Crosby!” I hear a very familiar voice yell over the buzz of the airport.

“Oh my God! Uncle Flower!” I shout, rushing towards my uncle Marc and hugging him.

“Surprise!” Dad calls, smiling as I hug Marc.

“So you were my surprise?” I say, stepping back and looking at him.

“Yep, I was the big wonderful surprise. Hope you weren’t too disappointed.” He says, smiling as his arm rests around my shoulders.

“I figured you’d want all of your uncles here for your big 18th birthday. So we worked it out and got him here for you.” I smile, quickly hugging Dad before returning to hug Marc again.

“Alright well, it’s time to get heading to the hotel. We’re going to dinner at 6:30 tonight. Geno, Flower and Kris are taking Tay to something that I know nothing about. And you’re okay with Carter going with us?” I nod as Marc leads us and the rest of our group to the waiting van.

“I’m taking a nap when we get to the hotel. You woke me up too early this morning.” I say, nudging Carter as she slides into the van next to me.

“Sounds like a plan. The Red Bull ran out.” She says, laying her head on my shoulder. The two of us manage to fall asleep on the 20 minute drive to the hotel. Geno shakes us both awake when we get to the hotel. We sleepily wander into the hotel and wait in the lobby while Dad and Tay get everything figured out. The adults herd us all over to the elevator and into it, somehow managing to get us all to the conjoined rooms we have for the next two weeks. As soon as we make it into the rooms, Carter and I collapse onto the bed we’ll be sharing and fall asleep.

About 2 and a half hours later, Dad comes in and wakes us up.

“Girls, we have about an hour before we have to leave for dinner. Go ahead and start getting ready.” He calls as he closes the door behind him. I sit up and stretch, the excitement building in my chest all over again.

“Okay, I think I’m gonna curl my hair and wear that frilly, layered red skirt with the white sweater and my little brown boots. What about you, Carter?” I ask, looking back at her who is still laying in bed.

“So I have to dress nice right? I think the army green pants romper thing with my jean jacket, Vans and straight hair. Sound good?” She asks, finally sitting up. I nod and get started curling my hair. She gets started on doing her makeup while I work on my hair. Somehow, we both end up being done with plenty of time left to spare. So we do what typical teenagers do and spend the extra 15 minutes we have, on our phones. Dad comes in and the two of us follow him down to the elevator and out to the car. It’s some super nice, fancy car; just like the one that lives in our garage except on home game days. Dad lets Carter play music which automatically, I can tell, he regrets as Cotton Eye Joe plays for the third time. Carter is having the time of her life and I can’t help but laugh along with her. When we get to the restaurant, it’s one Dad and I came to, back when we came to Toronto for some charity event a few years ago.

“Alright, how excited are you?” Dad asks, as he parks the car and we climb out. I squeal a little and Carter laughs. Dad smiles, draping his arm around my shoulders as I link arms with Carter. The 3 of us waltz into the restaurant and walk up to the hostess.

“Hello, Mr. Crosby. Your two guests are already seated.” I squeeze Carter’s arm and we squeal a little together. As we follow the hostess to our table, back in the back, we pass a table with two teenage boys. One looks Carter up and down, obviously checking her out, while the other locks eyes with me. I smile, forcing myself to look away as we disappear into the back, private room Dad reserved for us.

“Holy crap, did you see those guys?” Carter whisper-yells into my ear. I nod, trying to focus on the fact that Mitch Marner is standing a few feet away from me, a grin on his face, instead of the guy I just saw.

“Hey Sid. This must be Ava and Carter. Nice to meet you girls.” Mitch says, reaching his hand out. I shake it, the smile on my face impossibly large. Morgan Rielly stands next to him and shakes our hands as well. As we all sit down, I happen to glance around the room and see that both of the boys are looking into the room. As much as I want to pay attention to what Mitch, Mo and Dad are talking about, I can’t. I’m too distracted by the boy I saw. Carter, apparently can’t either.

“Ava, they were literally so hot. Can I please go get their numbers?” She asks, nudging me when she catches me staring again.

“No! Dad will kill me if he catches me talking to a boy!” I whisper-yell, glancing up at Dad and Mitch.

“Ava Grace, that could be your freaking soulmate and you’ll never know because you won’t let me go get their numbers!” I roll my eyes and glance over my shoulder at the boys’ table. Sadly, they’re gone and I sigh, looking over at Carter.

“They’re gone anyway. Not like we’re ever gonna see them again anyways.” I say, glumly, resting my chin on my hand. She shakes her head. “There went your soulmate.” I sigh, knowing she won’t let me live this down. Dad clears his throat, pulling Carter and I back to the conversation happening at the table.

“So Ava, I hear you’re a pretty big fan of mine.” Mitch says, leaning on his elbows against the table. I smile, taking in all of his features.

“Yeah, you’ve been my favorite since you came into the league. Dad’s always a little disappointed when I don’t tell people he’s my favorite player.” Mitch and Mo laugh. The rest of the evening, conversation flows easily and Carter and I both have a blast. As I glance at my Apple watch and see the time, Carter nudges me again.

“Your dad is looking at you funny.” She says, nodding her head towards Dad. I look up, my eyes meeting my dad’s gaze.

“It’s getting late, are you girls ready to head back to the hotel? Your aunt and uncles should be getting back soon too.” Carter and I nod and I turn to look at Mitch.

“I’ll be wearing your jersey on Saturday night. Don’t disappoint me. Also it’s my birthday so a goal or two would be nice.” Mitch and Mo laugh as Dad smiles down at me.

“I will try my hardest. Glad we could spend the evening with you lovely ladies. See you on Saturday after the game? There’ll be passes for your whole group at the ticket desk.” My face lights up and I know Carter’s does too.“Okay great! See you then! Good luck!” I say, standing and hugging Mitch. Mo shakes Dad’s hand and then the two of them head out.

“You two seemed very distracted all during dinner. Was everything okay?�� Dad asks as the 3 of us head back out to the car after he pays.“Yeah everything was fine. Dinner was super good and fun. Carter just saw some cute boy and wouldn’t shut up about him.” Dad laughs and rolls his eyes.

“Hey, in my defense, your daughter was looking too so it wasn’t just me.” Carter says, crossing her arms. Dad’s head whips around as we climb in the car.

“A boy? What?” I groan internally and elbow Carter. I’ve never been that into boys. I mean, I’ve thought plenty of boys were cute and had quite a few guy friends but I’ve never had the time or the effort that comes with having a relationship. So it’s never been a topic of conversation for Dad and I.

“Nothing, it was nothing. Don’t worry about it, Dad.” I say, trying to avoid the topic.

“It’s interesting though. I was just talking to your uncle Kris about how you’ve never had a boyfriend or anything like that. Which is fine with me because I know what boys are like.” Dad says as we drive back to the hotel. Carter is dying sitting next to me, her hand pressed against her mouth to avoid laughing out loud.

“I-I know...I’ve just never had the time or wanted one.” I say, burying my head in my hands.

“Well you don’t need one. You have all the guys you need in your life. Me, your Uncle Geno, Uncle Kris, Uncle Marc, and Grandpa.” Carter finally bursts out laughing and Dad looks in the rearview mirror at me.

“I’m serious, Ava Grace. Why do you need a boyfriend?” Dad has never really been the overprotective dad. He’s protective for sure but he kind of lets me do my own thing most of the time. He knows if I need to, I’ll come to him or one of the other main adults in my life. But he lets me make my own decisions and figure life out by myself. This whole ‘no boyfriend’ thing that he’s doing right now is new.

“I guess I don’t. You’re right.” I say, putting an end to the conversation by turning and looking out the window. Thankfully, Dad doesn’t push any farther. The 3 of us ride in silence, the radio off, the rest of the way back to the hotel. Once we get into the hotel and up to our rooms, I tell Dad goodnight, give him a hug and a kiss then follow Carter into our room. Carter distracts me from the disaster of a conversation that was with Dad and forces me to watch some cheesy rom-com with her. I fall asleep midway through and sleep in late the next day. Taylor takes Carter and I out shopping all day on Friday while my dad and the uncles do who knows what. The topic of boys is avoided all day, All night at dinner on Friday, we catch up with everyone. I fill Marc in on what Dad’s latest old person moment was, even though he’s only 33. Everything seems so perfect and happy but I keep replaying the conversation with Dad over and over again in my head.

Saturday morning, my birthday morning, Carter wakes me up with cake in bed. It’s a tradition we started when we were 12. Every year on our birthday, the other girl brings the birthday girl cake in bed. It’s one of my favorite birthday traditions.

“Happy birthday Little Crosby! You are adult now!” Geno calls, leading the rest of my family into my room. Dad brings up the end of the line and walks over to the bed. He hugs me, pressing a kiss to my forehead.“Happy birthday my sweet girl.” He says, smoothing my hair down and getting all teary-eyed.

“I can’t believe the young lady you’ve grown into. You are beautiful, strong, independent and so responsible. I...I didn’t think things would end up this way, especially with your mom not being in the picture. But I look around you and I see all these people who helped raise you and I know, you’ve turned out more than okay. I love you Ava Grace and will always love you. Happy birthday.” Dad says. I take another bite of the cake Carter brought me and smile up at him.

“I love you so much, Daddy. Thank you for everything. Thank you everyone for everything you’ve done for me. I love all of you.” They all share a sappy smile and I keep eating my cake. The rest of the day, we hang out at the hotel, lounging around before the game tonight at 7. Marc and Geno see how many pieces of pizza they can eat while Dad keeps score. Taylor paints Carter’s nails and I pick at mine. Kris sneaks out to buy me ice cream and comes back with at least 10 different kinds, all of them my favorite in one way or another.

Carter and I start getting ready around 4:30 so we’re ready to leave by 5. I straighten my hair and do just light makeup. I dig my Mitch Marner jersey out of my bag and put it on with some black leggings. Carter wears the jersey of the only Leaf she likes, Frederik Andersen. She opted for black ripped jeans instead of leggings. Everyone else is just dressed casual. Marc did wear a Leafs hat just to please me. The drive to the arena, Carter gets to play music again. She plays our ‘Hockey Game Hype Up’ playlist, something we made a few years ago. Even though I’m the music person, she’s much better at putting playlists together. I’m only really good at finding one or two songs I love and just playing them over and over again. As the songs ‘Auston Matthews’ by Svdvm and ‘Toronto Maple Leafs Anthem’ by JDME play back to back, we pull into the arena parking lot. No matter how many times I’ve been to Scotiabank Arena, it never ceases to amaze me. I think I’ve been here a grand total of like 15 times in the last 10 years, solidifying it as my favorite arena.

“Come on Ava, let’s go watch your boy play.” Carter says, linking her arm through mine. She leads me and the rest of our group into the arena. Everyone else heads to the box but I decide to stay down in the main area and wander around a bit, making sure I get the full experience again. All around me, Leafs fans are hurrying to one place or another. I take everything, wanting to remember this for the rest of my life. As I’m walking down a small set of stairs, I collide with a pretty solid body. And of course, with my human wrecking ball abilities, I manage to take both of us down, all the way to the ground. “Shit! I’m so sorry, are you okay?” I ask, sitting up and looking at the boy I collided with. He sits up, looks at me, down at the ground, then back up at me. His eyes are huge.

“I-Oh my God. Yeah-Yeah I’m okay! Are you?” He asks, jumping to his feet and reaching his hand out to help me up. I take his hand and he pulls me to my feet. “Yeah I’m all good. Sorry for taking you out. I’m known for being clumsy. Like the jersey by the way.” I say, pointing to where the number 16 is stitched into the arm of his jersey. The same number sprawled across my back.

“Hey, I like yours too. Marner your favorite player?” I nod, pushing my hair back out of my face.

“Yeah, I grew up a Penguins fan because of my dad but the Leafs are my favorite team.” He smiles and nods. He looks so familiar but I can’t place where I know him from. Talking to him comes so naturally and it seems like the world just goes on around us while we stand there and talk. Before I know it, they’re starting the lineup announcements.

“Oh shoot, I gotta get going. Enjoy the game!” I call over my shoulder as I run back towards the box we’re all sitting in. Of course, I trip up the steps and almost fall. As I glance over my shoulder, I see the boy with a smirk on his face. I blush and mentally kick myself for first off accidentally tackling a cute boy then tripping and almost falling in front of him. As I rush back into the box, Dad eyes me with a raised eyebrow. I huff and flop into my seat next to Marc and Carter. Carter glances at me out of the corner of her eye and smirks.

“Why are you all red and bothered about?” I bite my lip and Marc looks over at me.“I accidentally tackled a cute boy…” I say, burying my head in my hands. Carter and Marc laugh and Marc pats my back.

“There there, Little Crosby. I did much worse to your aunt Véronique.” I laugh and lean my head on his shoulder. Geno and Kris are behind us, teasing Taylor as Dad watches what’s going on down on the ice. His hand is resting on my shoulder, absentmindedly squeezing and releasing in a protective way. As I sit there, watching the game, all I can think about is the boy. But as I do, I think about the conversation Dad and I had last night in the car. Did he really mean what he said? Would he really get upset if I did ever decide to have a boyfriend?

#sidney crosby #dylan cozens #nhl #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #Dylan Cozens imagine #hockey imagine #nhl fanfiction #hockey #hockey boys

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thepencilnerd · 3 years

Text

Pasta and Dinner Parties

"Edamame," Theo says.

"The fuck did you just call me?" Blaise’s face contorted quicker than a shifting boggart.

Another eye roll. “The pasta, it’s made from edamame.” Theo pronounces it with a certain twinge of pomposity that would have Percy Weasley reeling. Too many syllables. Vowels too lengthy. “Type of soybean, I reckon.”

"IT'S NOT PASTA!" Blaise’s roar shook the walls of the foyer.

Pansy snorts into her mug. “I don’t know about you, but I think this dinner will go swimmingly.”

Draco and Hermione have reached a domestic milestone. They've finally decided to move in together. Draco invites her over for dinner, but what would a little Slytherin hospitality be without some sugar and spice?

Rated M for language and discussions of heavy topics in future chapters

Full fic + updates on AO3

"Luna sent a box of these over, wonderful isn't she?" If lovesick eyes had a picture to accompany the definition, Theodore Nott’s face would be front and center. In his left hand, he held an empty cardboard carton with a sticky note adhered to the front flap.

Simmer for 10 minutes with a sprig of rosemary and a teaspoon of salt. Keeps away the balfspracks.

Blaise rubs his eyes. It’s half-past five and he’s already had it with Theo. Had it. Patience wore down to the bone. Basta. Finite incantatem. In all honesty, he’d gladly throw himself in front of a flying—

A shorter figure crept up from behind. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she gives her boyfriend a peck on the cheek, which seems to loosen the wrinkles settling over his forehead.

"Ladies," Pansy jests, mediating the arguments between the two as always. "I'm sure there's more than enough pasta to go around."

"Not pasta," Blaise muttered. He tried to concentrate on the lingering warmth Pansy’s lips left on his face. The poor bloke sounded like he was about to hurl.

At this, Theo rolled his eyes and waved dismissively. “Yes, yes, yes, you can flaunt your Italian heritage some other time, now let me work my culinary magic!”

Blaise takes a deep breath. High blood pressure, he remembered Pansy saying. Need to stay calm. "Mate, I love you, I really do, but if you don't tell me what those green things swimming about in my favorite crockpot are, you have another thing coming."

"You used a crockpot to boil pasta?" Pansy’s head popped up from behind Blaise’s shoulder. Her nose wrinkled like she’d caught a whiff of something foul.

“Not pasta.” Blaise was a broken record.

Draco groaned from the living room. The headache from earlier evolved into a full-blown migraine by the time lunch was over. His eyeballs were absolutely throbbing. He jammed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets as if it would relieve any of the aching. To no avail.

"Granger's coming over in half an hour and we’ve yet to transfigure a dining table." He verbalized his misery in as simple terms as he could. Sitting on the living room couch, he calculated the farthest distance from the kitchen and found himself just a few feet away. Problem with having a small flat. He couldn't find it in himself to raise his voice. Not with the demon baby currently going stir-crazy with a gavel in his skull.

He questioned his level of sobriety when he agreed to this.

Meeting Hermione Granger’s parents had been less stressful than this.

Introducing her to his mother was a Christmas tree full of Christmas presents compared to this.

Sitting in a train compartment with 2nd-year Hufflepuffs sounded more bearable than this.

Why, oh why, did he have to open his big mouth that night?

“Seems proper that I’d at least get to share dinner with them before we move in together,” Hermione shrugged. Her hair was still damp from her—their—shower. Stray curls escaped, framing the curves of her face. Draco loved how her sheets always smelled like her soap. The scent of her shampoo was reserved for the pillowcases.

“Come over for dinner,” he suggested. Quite impulsively, really. “Allow me to treat you to an evening of... Slytherin hospitality.” Draco’s trademark grin served him well. Resting on his side, Draco was propped up on one elbow with no shirt and sheet draped over his bottom half. She wanted to believe he was wearing briefs underneath. He looked absolutely wicked.

Hermione scowled tentatively but surrendered with a smile. Her chest rose before she let out a sigh. “Well, I’d be lying if I said I’d experienced an inkling of that before.” Mirth graced her tone.

The embers from the fireplace bounced off of her bare skin like rays of summer sun; warm and welcoming. Draco’s fingers fondled the strap of her bra, the only thing she was wearing, and earned a breathy giggle from her. Tugging the lace down, he sat up and started pressing a trail of kisses along her skin. Goosebumps erupted where his lips traced her flesh. The bath had stained her skin; she tasted of rosewater and honey.

Hermione let out a hmph and tried to focus on the book she was holding. She developed a knack for knowing when he craved attention. Whenever Draco came over, he turned into a literal child. Always nagging and begging for her every time he got the chance. If she wasn’t superglued to his side, Hermione would bet a million galleons he’d throw a fit.

“Turn around and face me instead. I don’t fancy being smothered by your hair while we sleep.”

“How do you turn on the stove?”

“Granger, help me fix the antenna!”

“Could you take a look at this spot on the back of my head? I might be balding.”

“Granger, I think I nicked myself on the aluminium.”

“If you weren’t wearing so many clothes, we’d probably warm up faster. Becoming a pair of popsicles isn’t exactly on my bucket list.”

This time around, his demands were very clear.

“Pay attention to me.”

Hermione’s eyes shot up from her book. Shock painted her features like a splash of cold water.

She blinks once. Twice. Three times for good measure. And then, her lips break into a blinding smile, pearly whites and all. The corners of her eyes curl into half-moons and her whole body shakes with glee.

Sweet Merlin, he was fucked.

Setting her book down on the nightstand, Hermione sits up straight and looks at Draco expectantly. He sits unmoved beside her. Staring. Admiring. Waiting. The cheeky grin that etches into her face is one Draco would give the world to see every day.

Draco leans back against the headboard and stretches his legs out towards the foot of the bed. Scooting closer to her, she flips her leg over his awaiting lap. She’s straddling him in the span of two seconds. The feel of her bare flesh against his is utter bliss.

Her arms wrap around his neck like a koala bear and her head nestles into the crook of his neck. Despite lathering him in her soap, he still smelled like Draco. All these years of dating and she still couldn’t put her finger on the bevy of aromas.

Draco mirrors her actions like a reflection, one and the same. His arms make her feel so incredibly small when encased in them. Like a bear cub. Or a kangaroo in a pouch. Maybe mammals would be an appropriate term to generalize how warm and safe she felt in his embrace, but it wasn’t the most attractive or poetic—

“I thought we finished showering earlier,” he sighs into her hair. “Why is there steam coming off your head?”

She blows a puff of air into his neck and he jolts at the sensation. Ticklish. Draco knew that secret would die with Hermione and she was honored to keep it. Unless it served her in times of duress.

“I was just thinking about how safe I am when I’m with you.” The tip of her nose brushes against the junction above his throat and feels his heartbeat, delicate but strong.

Da-dum.

Pulling back, he slides his left hand along her cheek and she leans into it like second nature. Hermione raises her right hand and cradles it over his. The way it pales in proportion almost makes him break into laughter. When she presses open-mouthed kisses down his bare wrist, Draco resists the urge to take her right then and there. It’s too perfect of a moment to ruin. Not tonight.

She’s even more tender when her lips reach his scar. The marred flesh that takes him back to his inescapable past. A reminder of everything wrong he’s been taught since childhood; everything bad in this world; everything wrong he’s done throughout his entire life.

But more importantly, it’s a symbol of how much good was left in this dismal world.

It’s a battle scar that reminds him that he lived.

Something that motivates him to keep trying.

A reminder of how despite being swallowed by the darkness that plagued the world, he chose to hold onto light.

A reminder of how above everything, he chose Hermione and Hermione chose him.

He takes a moment to look at her, really look at her, and melts.

Hermione is a vision actualized. He sees the dreams and aspirations swirl about her irises in flickers. Roaming freely and always there when you needed them. He wants to bask in them. Relish in them. In her. For as long as she’ll keep him, no matter how infinitely small or finitely large. He’d burn through galaxies if it meant seeing her happy and safe. Anything and everything he could provide for her was his to offer. She need only ask.

Draco Malfoy was wholly and irrevocably head over heels for Hermione Granger.

Magic and might, save him.

No really, save him.

What the bloody hell was that infernal yapping?

"I, for one, thought it would be better to go to an Italian restaurant, but Blaise here," Theo quipped. “—wanted to dish out his non-existent cooking skills,” He paused to stir the pot. “At least Luna was kind enough to—”

Blaise stomped his foot on the kitchen tiles. Miracle they hadn’t cracked yet. There was no point in trying to hide his tantrum. “Just because my ancestors were Italian doesn’t mean I’m a master chef!” He narrows his eyes. “Honestly Theo—” The words die in his throat when Theo fishes out a noodle from the pot. Maybe it’s just his eyes playing tricks on him but he swears it flipping wiggles. “What in Merlin’s great magical kingdom is that abomination and why the ever-loving fuck is it green?”

Pansy gave his cheek a pat. “Colorful, Blaise. Truly”

"Edamame," Theo says.

"The fuck did you just call me?" Blaise’s face contorted quicker than a shifting boggart.

"IT'S NOT PASTA!" Blaise’s roar shook the walls of the foyer.

Pansy snorts into her mug. “I don’t know about you, but I think this dinner will go swimmingly.”

A crash echoes from the kitchen and Theo lets out a screech that rivals grindylows.

Pansy takes a long, calm sip. Likely pumpkin juice. Draco wouldn’t be surprised if it were laced with some pre-appetizer spirits. How she managed to deal with Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-dum was beyond him. Hell, he needed some right about now. At least to dial down the nerves. Not to mention the spike in blood pressure provoked by his flatmates.

The remaining minutes pass like clockwork and before he knows it, the front door dings. Never has a bell sounded more menacing than now. Why is he so nervous? She’s met them a few times before and they’ve definitely shared rounds of drinks. No doubt, gone to Diagon Alley with Parkinson, Lovegood, and Weasley. The tolerable one.

Did he clean his room?

Theo promised to dust right after tea but the bloke was delusional about everything except Lovegood. A bit poetic, not that Draco ever cared to admit it.

Pansy and Blaise stopped by the market yesterday and restocked the pantries and fridge.

And then Luna dropped off her bag of goodies this morning.

“She’s early.” Theo stuck his head out from the kitchen. Why was he covered in flour?

So many questions. Draco didn’t even care to know the answers to half of them.

“She’s always early when she’s excited.”

The three stooges stand shell shocked and stare at Pansy. They just stare.

She blinks like an owl and shakes her head. “Honestly, are you three just going to stand there or is someone’s boyfriend going to get the door?”

Draco’s brain registers the words too late for his liking. He’s dead sober but his brain is all fuzzy. Just as she’s about to knock for a second round, Draco’s feet propel him to the door so fast a whip of apparition cracks.

The door clicks open to reveal a dazzling frame. Hermione Granger is, to say the least, an unreal figment of everything good in the world. War heroine, member of the Order of the Phoenix, magical, academic, and practical genius, pure in mind and soul, and his girlfriend. His girlfriend. His. Donning a pair of black leggings and a flowing cream blouse, she’s bundled in a beige trench coat and blush pink scarf. Dark mahogany brown ankle boots boost her height by a few centimeters. Draco still overshadows her by a good head or two. Nevertheless, it’s a thoughtful effort. She’s holding a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine.

“Hello—woah!’

Draco’s arms are around her instantly and she’s brought into the house. His broad shoulders envelop her into a cloaked embrace that lets his scent wash over her. He never wants to let go.

Initially surprised at the abrupt shift in balance, Hermione relaxes into his hold within seconds. He still smells like her soap and Draco and… smoking?

“Blaise!” a female voice shrieks. “Don’t just stand there Theo, do something!”

A cloud of smoke—contained by a bubble charm, thanks to Pansy—swirls above the stovetop, large and foreboding. The source? A deep green crockpot placed on one of the burners.

Wait. Why is a crockpot on the burner? Hermione wonders.

“I told you we needed to salt the water and add the rosemary! Now you’ve got balfspracks all over the bloody place!” Theo’s voice changed from panic to mockery. He turned his nose upright and growled in a nasal tone. “‘Oh, salt is acceptable, but rosemary? Unacceptable. A disgrace to all cuisine Italian. May as well—’”

Draco pinches the bridge of his nose. By the end of the day, he’d probably have to ask Hermione to heal his bruises. “Bloody hell…”

“Oh, it’s my fault now, is it?” Hermione realizes Blaise’s name suits him very well. Almost too well. In any other life, he might have been sorted into Gryffindor with that fiery temperament. “Next time we have a guest over, we’re ordering take-out. From Hogsmeade!”

“Someone help me get rid of this burnt pot of—whatever the hell pasta Theo was making,” Pansy gags while trying to contain the swelling bubble. The scent is overwhelming. Something between seaweed and polyjuice. Perhaps a vile mixture of the two.

“EDAMAME!”

“NOT PASTA!”

Draco can’t tell whether he wants to burst into laughter or cry. Maybe he’ll do both. Hermione was there to wipe away the snot or tears, regardless of whichever it would end up being.

Giving him a chase kiss, Hermione placed the gifts in his hands and made her way to the lounge. Draco was going to kill them. He was going to kill them dead.

She pulled out her want and raised it towards the giant orb of smoke, confidence igniting her eyes. Her wand moved as if it were on its own, guided purely by magic and intent with an undeniable essence of Granger. She draws a broad circle that covers the entire room and summons the wisps of smoke like a magnet. The ashy tendrils of burnt food claw their way out of the floorboards and ceiling cracks, latching on for as long as they can before they’re drawn out Aiming towards the ajar door, the coils of smoke and singe are thrown out the entrance with a deafening gust.

A single strand of hair falls out of her ponytail.

She blows it out of her eyes with a single, deliberate puff.

The corner of her lip quirks upwards the slightest.

It’s so fast you’d miss it if you blinked.

If Draco wasn’t so overcome with the urge to skin his friends, he’d dive in there right now and kiss her numb.

The flat has returned to an atmosphere of calm.

“Fucking finally,” Draco mutters out loud. Not intentionally but he doesn’t regret it one bit.

Pansy, Theo, and Blaise resemble owls; wide eyes, unmoving bodies, twitching necks that swivel side to side.

Theo breaks the silence with something along the lines of a chortle. “Welcome to our humble abode, Granger.”

“Pleasure to have you here,” Blaise adds. His hands are still clenched around Theo’s shirt collar.

Pansy is still trying to catch her breath having inhaled a hefty amount of the fumes. Blaise and Theo had probably tumbled around the living room enough to avoid the thick of it. Still, she refuses to let it impede on her hostess abilities.

“Hermione!” Pansy coughs. “Why don’t you and Draco check out upstairs while—” she pauses to glare daggers at the two boys covered in God knows what, “—we deal with the mess down here.”

Hermione draws out the excess smoke from Pansy’s clothes and hair with a swish of her wand. The next thing she does makes the three boys’ jaws unhinge. They bring each other into a warm hug and laughter rings in the air.

“It’s good to see you too, Pans,” Hermione breathes. Draco was definitely going to have a fit over this later.

Hermione gives Theo and Blaise a shy wave. Hopefully, they’d understand. In any other instance, she’d be more than happy to rid their clothes of the stench. They wouldn’t even have to ask. But this was Pansy Parkinson and if Hermione knew Pansy Parkinson, she knew that the Slytherin would want to drag on punishment as long as possible before even thinking of succumbing to forgiveness.

Hermione Granger’s stubbornness coupled with her Gryffindor loyalty?

She’ll be damned if she lets either waver when surrounded by friends.

Draco clears his throat forcefully and offers his arm. “Upstairs then, shall we?”

Hermione loops her arm through his and grins. It’s contagious and Draco already feels his anger ebb into affection.

She speaks almost as lightheartedly as the wand movement for a levitation charm. "We shall."

#dramione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #dramione imagine #draco x hermione #theo nott #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #dramione fanfic #incorrect dramione quotes #hermione x draco #post wizarding war #crack fic #dramione headcanon #harry potter #hp quotes

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fandom-sheep · 3 years

Text

MCC 18 SEP 21

Yellow Yacks and Cyan Coyotes with a little Aqua Axolotls. Part 1/1

The only reason I didn’t forget MCC was because I got the notification for Eret.

I have Wilbur on my TV. I’m going to watch Eret on my phone. And I’ll have Tommy on my iPad probably.

Wilbur throwing a tantrum and saying he won’t play.

I feel like a true Gen Z member with my multiple screens of minecraft.

I’m only just getting the Wilbur notification.

I love watching everyone run around before MCC and scale things.

Griefing the thumbnail. 😂

Wilbur just causes problems on purpose when it comes to group photos doesn’t he.

He just loves finding ways to cause problems.

Wilbur got a coconut!?!

I didn’t mean to type the question mark originally. But I am a bit confused.

Wilbur just stocking up on coconuts

True friendship is a quote book. I have several.

Baby banana boo.

Wait. I heard the word tumblr

Scott what did you do with tumblr?

I’m scared. Only Eret permitted on tumblr.

I remember watching hole in the wall as a tv show as a kid.

Wilbur’s glasses that don’t do anything.

There are September discounts for subbing?

Neato.

The conversations in my work discord are something else.

Not surprised that Wilbur is going for top swearer of MCC

But my residents are going to walk by my door and judge me.

Alright I apparently wasn’t signed in to twitch on my iPad and it took me entirely too long to learn to remember it.

Tommy looks like he’s really concentrating. Oh wait never mind.

Wow the yaks are in first currently. I might be cheering for a winning team for once.

Alright I have my iPad split screen between Tommy and the MCC website.

Everyone break the elevator!

In the game, not in the building I work. I don’t want that paperwork.

Stick together and place many block.

I’ve been in Wilburs position. “I’ll be captain” “yeah let’s let Wilbur be captain”

Not a single POV I have up is synced. But that’s life.

Oh not starting out strong.

Just keep going. Ignore the falling people just like ranboo last time.

We are at the absolute bottom for this game.

Where’s a bag of popcorn or something?

“Stay down there. That’s how I won that one time” -Ranboo

Down they go.

They didn’t have anywhere to run.

Second round!

Oh that wasn’t their best idea. It was fun seeing Erets POV of that.

Go Teams.

Turning down the volume on yellow yacks to listen to aqua axolotls.

Aqua please. You have so much potential.

Nope.

Switching audio again.

Yellow back at the bottom.

Ranboo ranboo ranboo ranboo

Down he goes. 😂 the timing of that was funny.

Please. Don’t die

Wilbur. Scott. Please.

Scott uncovering the creeper.

Their plan is literally just sit and be.

To be fair that’s my plan for everything I do.

Oh cobwebs are smart.

I’m eating very salty Chick-fil-A chips and need water.

We are still doing ok. Wow.

Cobwebs man. The real MVP.

They are still in 10th

COBWEBS!!! And Wilbur standing on the edge of a block.

THEY WON THAT?!?!!!!

It moved them from last to eight. But still. Wow.

Holy cow. How did that happen.

I always forget what the acronym game is.

Oh yeah. Wilbur snuck and found this. I remember.

Go team!

Oh the website updates faster than the game. But we’re starting off decent.

I’m going to have to take back that statement aren’t I?

Go go go go

Fly fly fly fly

Build build build build

Go Wilbur!

Rafter strat.

Wilbur found the rafters and everyone else loved it.

Blocking his own jump. 😂

I really should do the inside joke chair emoji thing for laughing. But I don’t care.

Tiktok is nice. Depends on the side you are on, but it’s nice.

We are doing halfway decent. I’m proud of us.

Wilbur is struggling and I think he might cry.

Not bad. I don’t think.

Power sweater.

This game in MCC has rainbow road vibes

I’ll have to make that it’s own post since I feel that’ll be popular ish.

Holy cow we hit first on the website!! How?

Ranboo sweet one.

They said no peaking to Wilbur.

Wilbur making them block stuff off and the like is so funny.

Run yaks run!

I missed the moment Wilbur just mentioned. Oh well I’m sure I’ll see the clip.

First last first.

Hey 4th overall. Look at em.

Wilbur switching to full screen to show us his M&Ms.

Let me balance my water bottle on the bedpost above my head. No way this could possibly go wrong in multiple ways.

Double coins. Gorgeous.

Chickens are being sniped.

What’s going to work? TEAM WORK!

I don’t think I have ever watched a game of grid runners in my life?

Alright game should start any second because it started on the website.

Alright stream is delayed about 13 seconds.

Go teams go!

Wilbur just sniping targets.

We’re doing ok.

All this dirt.

Go go go

We’re completing things first.

Cake!

Wilbur got in!

Now they eat

Oh but they are falling.

Oh wow the painting is complicated. My friends and I would fail to communicate so fast.

Is this lever thing just find the button but complicated?

Go you got the levers!

Items grab!

My friends and I would seriously struggle unless I was allowed the lead. But I would lead us off a cliff.

Everyone get ready to go in as soon as the cake is done.

Exit! You guys are so close! Please!

Woohoo!

Go Ranboo! Go Scott!

Come on guys. Come on. Good communication.

I think I like watching Wilbur with MCC because he had a similar strategy to what I would do.

Wilbur why did you try to act cool!!!

They keep saying they are miles ahead but not according to that scoreboard.

You placed 3rd. Good job y’all.

I’m excited for bonuses.

They have another minute until the others run out of time.

Good soup.

Oh wow. Ranboo and Wilbur really are always totgehe.

We are doing well. I see the board changing on the website so much.

Where will they land.

Looks like 2nd or 3rd

Fourth overall. Not bad.

Lap time is logical.

Audience vote?

Look at me redownloading twitter.

Can you not see how others have voted on twitter?

Oh there it is. It only showed mine for a sec there.

Battle box looks close. I voted ace race.

Oh it all looks close right now.

Long break my beloved.

I don’t have time to start my laundry but still. My beloved.

Game 5/8 so MCC won’t be too much longer.

I look up and Wilbur is shaking his ass at George. I’m not surprised.

Phil and Sneeg judging Wilbur.

Wilbur twerking on Phil and Sneeg joining.

Poor Phil.

Wilbur just having visited so many random places with so many random words just gathered.

Oh wow parkour tag is low. But so is sands.

Oh wow it was a tie. Between Sands and Parkour

“Wilbur is Sand Daddy” -Scott and then all the agreement noises.

Sands of Time is my favorite practical game

Maybe because Wilbur is really good at it. And Ranboo had been trained by him.

This is just good.

I swear Sand daddy is going to kill me during this.

I am just going to pass away.

My stream delay though.

Wilbur who says he stays very quiet as he makes circus music noises.

Minecraft Rhinos. Because I can’t spell their real name.

I don’t quite understand sand of time. But I like watching. It’s like college football.

I am missing the only college football game I care about for MCC.

Go Team.

No blue yet.

All the mobs.

“You better not die” sung to the tune of Santa clause is coming yo town. -Wilbur

Keep it up guys.

Oh no. They lost the key.

Oh good they found the key.

You can tell Wilbur had a musicians brain. He just hears something vaguely lyrical and starts singing a song.

Gotta promote your band whenever you can I guess.

I listened to the last Ep for like an hour and a half yesterday while I went about my day.

I wonder how we’re doing?

Only a few seconds.

I could warm a heating pad in the amount fo time they have left.

Ranboo doing these puzzles so amazingly.

Quit caring about what others think. Just do your thing.

I swear the sand daddy thing.

I love the cage of shame for not tracking your sand.

I zoned out. Red cyan orange?

We’re almost 15 minutes into sands.

I want to play Minecraft on my iPad right now.

Wait the website updated. We were 6th?

Yikes. I thought they did better.

3rd overall though!

Wait what was that about most influential improv thingy? Good for them.

Build mart!

Oh Ace Race. Wilbur calling Ace Race his girlfriend now.

I want to see the enemies to lovers fan fictions of Ace race and Wilbur.

Oh wait I can do that. I can verbally tell one like I have others in the past.

I’m excited to watch this.

Wilbur flirt with the race.

I’m not mentally prepared for this.

Everyone just joined because they don’t want to miss Wilbur x Ace Race.

Oh no. He’s not doing so well.

Oh Wilbur is giving us more.

Complicated history…

Whispering to Ace Race and Solidarity.

You’ve got it Wilbur.

Keep on talking. Keep your brain busy while you play.

Mommmm Wilbur is flirting with Ace Race again!

He’s whispering though so I can’t quite hear it and will have to find a clip channel that added subtitles.

Oh teams are changing on the website.

“What are you doing in my women Philza?” -Wilbur

“I will end your bloodline which is canonically also me.” -Wilbur

I can not track all the quotes from this. That’s beyond my abilities.

Wilbur did halfway decent, but it still uncomfortable.

Ace Race is a person now. Also the fact that Wilbur compliments Ace Race so much.

Sally v. Ace Race.

I want to find that fanart now.

Scott honey. Confirmed cannon is everyone fancies the fish.

4th. Not bad.

We’re still talking Ace Race x Wilbur

Build mart! My dearest buildmart!

I miss them sliding around in the sleds.

Grab da flowers!

We’re in 1st at the minute.

Come on yaks!

No coyotes!

Hurry hurry hurry.

Work discord going it’s thing again.

Oh we’re dropping fast.

Move the redstone! Thank you

Alright back on top. Keep it up.

Nevermind.

I love the way the build spaces for the different teams work.

Who is the person on the build?

Oh first again? Nevermind.

Oh we popped up to second. We’re so behind. Come on.

Duck!

Good soup energy. Now all I can think is the bi wide energy song.

Time is running out.

Yeah we aren’t catching up to first. Just hold second.

Where is granite?

Game over.

Third overall now. Not bad. Last game time they can possibly pull it into dodge bolt.

I need to go get a picture with the President of the university for a game with my work.

Good Soup.

I’m sitting here making popcat noises while waiting.

Game time! Go team! Survive!

Wait where did the steamer go? I wasn’t paying attention.

He’s back.

He’s swearing for his points on the swearing list.

Is pee a soup? No. I don’t think it’s think enough under normal circumstances.

Karl is apparently swearing according to Twitter. Good for him. He deserves to swear some as a treat.

Everyone running and leaving shubble.

Oh good they are all together.

Just keep running.

4th so far.

Cars. Beep beep.

Ranboo breath child.

Calling Wilbur like some kind of golden retriever.

Bow boy

Scott is leader now. Because otherwise they are arguing.

We are playing the don’t die strategy.

Come on team.

Did I put my cut in this post? I did.

Ranboo having stolen the airdrop. And he has a thing!

Oh the boarder is right behind them.

They are fighting Dream?

Nice Will.

We’re in fourth.

Boarder is right there.

Sapnap? Nope.

Pink attack and they book it.

Oh no. There goes Wilbur.

Is it just Scott?

Scott vs the world.

Just Organe and pink. They came third.

GO ORANGE!

Please. Please let us do it.

Overall third. Pink overtook yellow.

Sadness.

Ranboo has achieved: Found Hated Game

Ranboo has been hit by Survival games so many times now.

If they had just lasted a tiny bit longer they would have come second.

Cheering Orange I suppose.

I have no skill at picking winner POVs.

I have 3 teams I was at least kinda watching. And none of them are in dodgebolt.

Gosh can hear Ranboo tweaking.

Wow. Yellow yaks just as a team twerking.

What is Wilbur chewing on? Wilbur don’t chew on things that probably aren’t meant to be chewed on.

I can hear the band outside of my window. I think my campuses football game is starting.

The drum line practiced outside my window all the beginning of the semester so it’s fun seeing them march to the stadium.

Oh and there are the cheerleaders.

Oh right I was watching MCC! Who’s winning?

Come on Orange. So close.

Wait I looked out my window. Why is the band walking back to where they were?

Along the sidewalk?

I thought it was game time for a minute.

Oh dodgebolt could go either way.

Distracted by Jesus.

Grian! You got this!

Nice Grian.

Oh Grian has a chance!

Oh!

It’s so close!

Ooo ooo!

I’m so invested.

I SEE THE CONFETTI IN THE SITE! But I don’t want to miss the shot.

Come on Grian.

I know you do it. But you’ve got this

YESSSSS

Woo hoo!!

That was a good MCC. Now to do the chores and homework I originally planned to do today.

That was a nice stream.

Scott is separating Ranboo and Wilbur?

Please. Scott.

Don’t separate the beings.

You know. Twitter needs to politely bully Scott into keeping Ranboo and Will together.

Oop and that’s Wilbur done. That was fun.

See y’all next time!

#mcc #wilbur soot #ranboo #Scott #dangthatsalongname #shubble #yellow yaks #delayed liveblogging

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nahoyaglock · 3 years

Text

📃 AS I AM CHAPTER 3 — Discovery

SUMMARY — You knew Kageyama Tobio since you both were in diapers, being close family 'friends'. You always wanted to befriend the quiet kid but no matter your efforts, he would never crack. When you transfer schools and meet Kageyama again, what will happen to your relationship?

PAIRING — family friend!kageyama x y/n

GENRE — fluff/crack/angst

WARNINGS — kags being a bigger meanie

WORD COUNT — 2.6k

FIND THE MASTERLIST HERE

It has been about more than two weeks since your first day at Karasuno, already creating good bonds with Hinata, Nishinoya, Yamaguchi, and even Tsukishima. You were pretty close to all of them, spending alot of time together at lunch or after school, and even during the weekend. They wanted you to feel welcome, after all, you even had a little text group chat.

(Sent October 10th at 11:15 am)

Y/N: [Good morning yall, and happy birthday noya!]

Shoyo: [HAPPY BIRTHDAY NOYA!]

Tadashi: [goodmorning and happy bday!]

Tsukki: [morning, happy birthday]

Noya: [GOOD MORNING, AND THANKS GUYS!]

You smiled down at your phone before shutting it off. Since it was Noyas birthday, your mom let him and your friends come over, it also being a Saturday. You planned to have a sleepover with your new friends, Kageyama, and Tanaka of course. You had finished cleaning your living room, and despite it being small, it was big enough to fit a bunch of enthusiastic dorks, and Tsukishima.

You had begun cooking lunch, making sandwiches for you and Hinata, who was already on his way to your house. "Good morning honey," your mom spoke softly, rubbing her eyes as she walked past you to the coffee maker. "Good morning mom, Hinatas on his way here already," you smile and finish the sandwiches, putting them on a plate and walking to the living room.

"Okay, I have work today so ill be out for a little bit, tell Nishinoya I said happy birthday and Kageyama I said hello," she chuckled as she started the machine. You nodded and heard the doorbell ring, causing you to sit up and smile in excitement, placing the play down on the couch. "Thats Shoyo!"

You hop to the front door and immediately unlock the door, greeting the orange haired male with a smile that was matching his. "Hey y/n!" He greets and you let him in, closing the door behind himself. "Hi Shoyo, I made lunch," you say and lead him to the living room. "Wow, your house is really cute," he giggles and sets his bags and blanket in the corner next to the couch.

"Im glad you think so, I think Tanaka is arriving next, but i could be wrong," you say and plot down on the couch, hinata following your movements. "When is Kageyama coming?" He asks and rests his head on your shoulder, head tilted so he can look at you, but you just shrug. "He hasn't answered me since I sent him the invite yesterday," you say before handing him the plate and taking your sandwich.

"What? He answered me this morning," Hinata said and pulled his phone out of his pocket, going to his text messages with Kageyama. "Yeah, he texted me this morning, asked if i was coming to the sleepover," he said and you sae him typing on his screen. You felt hurt, Kageyama always answered you, whether it was one word, or even one letter, he always answered.

"Ah, he might've forgotten, i wont hold it against him," you smiled and decided to shake it off, it was Noyas birthday and you were ready to have fun. You and Hinata watched a bit of Netflix and ate a bit more than just the sandwhiches you made. It had been about more than an hour since the next person appeared, hearing the doorbell ring as you were in the middle of showing Hinata baby pictures of you and Kageyama.

"Ah, I bet its Tsukishima and Tadashi! Or just Tadashi!" Hinata shouts, jumping up, you following after him with a big goofy smile on your face as you both run to the door. "Its definitely Tanaka! Im calling it!" You laugh, barely able to keep up with the small male as he opens the door. As you looked at the male at the door, you and Hinata both shouted at the same time.

"Tadashi!"

"Tanaka!"

"K-kageyama?" You questioned and Hinata sighed, walking back to your room, sulking. "Its just Kageyama," he complaimed and Kageyama glared at him. "Whats that supposed to mean dumbass!" You let him in and close the door behind him as he kicks off his shoes. "Kags, you didnt bring any bags? Like, more than one?" You ask and walk to your room, seeing him hesitate to say respond.

"I'm not staying over. I just wanted to wish Nishinoya a happy birthday, i thought more people would be here by now," he nonchalantly responds, almost irritating you. "Well, you could've answered my text with a yes or no, or tell me that," you say and turn to face him, kicking his ankle softly. "Sorry," he muttered.

You entered your room with Kageyama and saw Hinata checking out your wall of pictures, filled with pictures of you and kageyama as children, you and your mom, and your friends from Nekoma. "Hey, is that Kenma?" He asked, turning his head to look at you and Kageyama with a curious face.

"Oh, yeah it is," you answer and walk over to the spot next to hinata. "Ah, Inuoka! Lev!" He exclaims with a excited expression, carefully scanning the pictures. "Is this the Nekoma volleyball club?" He asked, looking up at you with admiration as you confirm that it is.

"Thats so cool! You know Kuroo?!" He said, looking at another photo, one dear to your heart. It was the last time you saw them, you had a sleepover at Kuroos house, all the boys attending. You were wrapped in Kuroo and Inuokas arms, the 2nd years sitting on the couch in the back with the rest of the members asleep, or running around.

"Yeah, he acts like my brother sometimes. This was from our last sleepover before i came here," you state and he puts it back in his place when he hears the doorbell. "Okay, this time its DEFINITELY Tanaka!" You slap Hinatas arm and you two, once again, race to the front door. "Its gotta be Tadashi!" He once again opens the door to be met with Tanaka, causing you to shout in glory, hinata groaning.

"Uh, hello to you too," he laughs and steps over Hinata who dramatically fell to his knees. "Sorry, we were betting on who would arrive next," you laughed as he put his stuff next to Hinatas and saw Kageyama come out of your room. "Hey Tanaka," he greeted and you all sat on the couch, continuing the movie you and Hinata had started. After about 30 minutes more, there was a knock on the door.

"Thats definently Tsukishima," You say and Hinata nods as you stand up to open the door, greeting the tall blonde, noticing Tadashi and Noya behind him. "Hey Tsukki, Tadashi, and happy birthday Noya!" You greet, patting Tsukishimas arm and hugging the last two. "Everyones here, so lets get started, hmm?"

As everyone gets their stuff situated, you head to your room to get your phone and order some take out and remind your mom to get a cake before heading back out to your friends. "Noya, you ca– Noya?" You giggled softly, seeing him wrapped in a giant fluffy blanket, and he smiles. "Yes?"

"Ah, I was gonna say you can choose a movie, unless you wanna do anything else before the food arrives," you bounce before taking a seat between Tsukishima and Hinata. "Movie please, i dont want to even know what hes thinking right now," Tsukishima said, his expression was serious. You elbow him with a chuckle that follows, "its his birthday, cut him some slack."

You all decided to play a few games with an old movie playing as background noise. Truth or dare, would you rather, never have I ever, and some board games, Tsukishima winning monopoly. He was currently boasting to Kageyama with a smug look on his face as the doorbell rang.

"Food!" You shouted and jumped up to answer the door, quickly paying for the food and closing the door before bringing it to the small coffee table in your living room. "Also my mom should be home in a few minutes so call down with all the cursing Tanaka," you laughed and opened the food boxes before grabbing some plates and utensils for them to serve themselves.

You guys ate and finally put on a movie, moving the coffee table to you, Noya, Tanaka, Tadashi, and Hinata could all huddle up on the floor infront of the tv, leaving Tsukishima and Kageyama on the couch. "Hey, im home honey. Hi boys," your mom called, a big bag in hands as she slipped off her shoes. "Hi y/ns mom!" Noya called and she brought the cake over to you.

"Happy birthday Noya, and hello Kageyama, its been a while since ive seen you, you're so big," your mom patted his shoulder and he nodded. "Hello Mrs. y/l/n," he spoke politely as Tsukishima quietly laughed at him. "Behave okay? Im heading to bed. Oh, and Kageyama, your mother invited us over tomorrow so i can take you home tomorrow, " she flashed a warm smile and your face lit up as you sat up from the cuddle pile.

"I haven't been to your house in years," you exclaim and placed a hand on Kageyamas knee, giggling. He shifted a bit, causing your hand to fall and he hummed, "because Tokyo is far." You roll your eyes and lay down back between Nishinoya and Hinata. "And im not sleeping over, my moms coming in 10 minutes to pick me up."

"Ah, well either way, ill see you tomorrow Tobio," your mom waved and left to her room. It was silent as you guys kept your eyes glued to the screen. Eventually Kageyama left, so Tsukishima joined the cuddle pile until you guys got tired. Hinata and Tadashi took the couch, Tanaka and Nishinoya draped over each other near the couch, Tsukishima laying next to you on the blanket that covered the itchy carpet.

You sat up, on your phone after your friends from Nekoma decided to blow up your phone.

"You still awake?" You jumped at the voice, thinking everyone was asleep, and you turned to the voice to see the salty blonde slipping on his glasses. "Yeah, my friends texted me," you whispered before turning off your phone, the room being engulfed by darkness and you took your spot next to Tsukishima. "So you and Kageyama?" He propped his head up on his hand as he looked at you.

"Yeah, he's weird. He hasn't been talking to me that much the past few weeks." You rest your head on the pillow and pull the blanket up over you. Tsukishima hums lightly before fixing his pillow, "is he always like this? He doesnt seem that way around the team."

"I guess? Hes always been dry and stand offish since we were children, but to other people he was different." You felt tired, and Tsukishima could sense it. "Rest, worry your head tomorrow." He pats your head before taking his glasses back off and lays down, you smile. "Thanks Tsukki."

"Dont call me that."

—

Once it became morning, Tanaka and Nishinoya were the firsts to leave, followed by Tadashi. You had just come out of the shower, finding Hinata folding his blankets and cleaning up the living room, and Tsukishima talking to your mom in the kitchen as he helped wash dishes. "Good morning mom," you yawned and grabbed a key from one of the drawers. "Im gonna stop by the store, wanna come with Tsukki? Hinata?"

Tsukishima looked at your mom and she nodded, telling him it was okay and that she'd finish the dishes on her own. You left the house with the two males, taking the short walk to the store. "You're going to Kageyamas right?" Hinata asked, bouncing to keep warm in the cold air. You nod and swing the keys around your finger, "yeah, in a few hours, oh! Let me text him."

(Sent October 11th at 1:17 pm)

Y/N: [Morning Tobio!]

[I'll see you in a few hours!]

As you waited for his answer, Tsukishima spoke up. "Not to.. seem like im putting you on the spot but.. doesn't he ignore you?" He kept his hands in his pockets and his gaze forward and Hinata gasped, "Tsukki that sounds mean!" He smacked his arm, causing the taller to look down at him. "I'm just saying that its not the best way to treat someone," he rolls his eyes and Hinata scoffs. "As if you can talk."

You sigh and laugh, placing a hand on both the males arms, "calm down you two, geez." They relax in your touch and Tsukishima continues. "Seriously tho, he could be just, y'know.. being a bitch," he he spoke, putting an emphasis on bitch. "Or he could be hiding something!" Hinata gasps and you laugh at them. "Yeah yeah, but its whatever really, this is how ive always seen Tobio, it'd be weird if he was any different. Though id like it alot if he DID be a little less dry."

You remembered the talk you and Tsukishkma had before, he always brought up Kageyama and your relationship with him. Soon you started to think the same was he did. Was Kageyama really just being mean? Isnt that just how he always is? Why does he act different around others? Was it you, or was it him?

—

You kicked off your shoes as you stepped into the warm house with a bright smile, "hello Mrs. Kageyama!" You greeted as she pulled you into a hug. "Hello y/n, my you've grown! Tobio is in his room, can you take him his plate? This one is your" She said and handed you two plates. You smiled and nodded your head like a gibby child and she patted your back as you made youe way to Kageyamas room. You kicked on the door because your arms were occupied.

You heard a bed creak and a few seconds after, the door opened and was almost closed back in your face if it weren't for him catching a glimpse at the plates. "Come in," he mumbled and let you in. You walked over to his bed and put his plate down on his bed and sat on the end as he closed the door. "Wow, your room has changed alot," you smile and look around the room at his posters and pictures on the walls.

"Mhm," he plopped back down on his bed and went on his phone. You noticed this and furrowed your brows, taking a bite of your food. "You know, for someone on their phone alot, you sure do ignore my texts alot," you mainly joked, but you guessed that he didnt catch on when his expression changed and he mumbled an apology. Was that guilt on his face?

You decided to stay silent and just scroll through social media and eat your food. After a few minutes of just silence, Kageyama finished his plate and got up to take it upstairs. "Hey Kags," you called before he left and you held your plate out to him, "can you take this for me?"

"You barely ate any thing," he said and you shook the plate a little bit, causing him to grab it, scared it would fall. "I'll bring you a meatbun," he murmured and left the room. You smiled slightly at the mention of meatbuns, and stood up to stretch your legs.

You grabbed a napkin from Kageyamas bedside dresser and wiped any food off of your mouth. He had a small trash bin in the corner of his room, so you went to throw away your napkin, looking at his posters and pictures on the wall. When you opened the bin, there was a large stack of pictures atop all of the trash.

All being pictures that had you and him in them.

#as i am*series #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio au #kageyama tobio fanfic #haikyuu fanfic #hq fanfic

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deans-baby-momma · 3 years

Text

Wounded Hearts 14

Fairfax, IN 2002 Rebecca’s POV

Kindergarten

“Will I like it?” Whitney asks me as we stand at the curb in front of our house. A year ago, I moved my daughter and myself out of my parents’ home and into a small little ranch style residence not far from them.

“Whitney, you will love it,” I tell her. “You’ll get to make new friends and learn things that will blow your mind. You will probably even have to teach me all about it.”

“Really?!” she asks, excitedly.

“For sure. Now here comes the bus. Remember, sit in your seat and listen to the instructions. No getting up and moving, especially while the bus is, okay?”

“Okay Mommy,” she says as the bus pulls up and stops. The door opens and I watch as Whitney hesitates to board. She looks back at me one last time, smiles and says, “I love you Mommy.”

“I love you too my sweet peach,” I say as she rushes up the steps and begins conversing with the driver.

Three months later, Whitney comes off the bus much less enthusiastic as she has been. My daughter loves school, absolutely adores learning and playing with her new friends. Every day she has come home with a story of a different kid she is ‘best friends” with and I listen intently.

But today, when Whitney gets off the bus she doesn’t look up at me, she doesn’t say hi, she just mopes up the driveway pulling her backpack behind her. I wait until we get inside to inquire about her change in attitude.

“Whit, honey,” I speak up as soon as the door is closed. Whitney is standing at the kitchen table unpacking her bag. “What’s with the sad?”

“Nothing,” she mumbles and continues pulling out papers. I see a bright blue one that looks like it’s been balled up and then smoothed out. I reach out to grab it but Whitney’s next words stop me in my tracks.

“Do I have a daddy?”

My blood runs cold in my veins and the color in my face drains. I’ve been awaiting this line of questioning since she was old enough to talk but Whitney had yet to bring it up...until now.

“What?” I clear my throat so my voice isn’t so high-pitched. “Why are you asking that? Did something happen at school?”

Whitney picks up the crumpled paper and hands it to me. On the top is a banner that says “Fairfax Elementary School Presents” and then a silhouette of a man and a little girl dancing. Below the picture are the words that make it all make sense now. ‘14th Annual Daddy/Daughter Dance’.

“Oh peach,” I say as I lay the paper on the table and look down at her. Her green eyes are dull and sad and looks like she might have even been crying. “I’m sorry. Did someone say you didn’t have one?”

“Tayler and Samantha laughed at me when I asked what if you don’t have a dad. They were making fun of me. Everyone was laughing at me because I don’t have one. Even Kimber, and she’s supposed to be my bestest friend but she was laughing with everyone else. Mommy, where’s my daddy?”

“Oh sweetheart. Come here,” I say as I open my arms and motion for her to step to me. As soon as she does, I wrap her up in a big hug and then pick her up, sitting her on my hip. I walk into the living room and sit on the sofa, placing my baby girl on my lap.

“You have a dad, Whitney. You do, you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for him. But that’s a story for a later time,” I begin as I wipe her tears and tuck her hair behind her ear. “Your daddy’s name is Dean. Dean Winchester. I knew him when I was still in high school.”

“Is that why my middle name is Deana? I’m named after him?”

“Yes.”

“Where is he? Does he know about me? Does he want to?”

I smile at the rapid questions. “I don’t know where he is baby. He just disappeared one day.”

“Like magic?” Whitney asks, enthralled that maybe her dad was magical like in her Disney movies.

“No,” I laugh. “His family moved away. I didn’t find out I was pregnant with you until long after they were gone. So no, I don’t think he knows about you but I’m sure if he did, he would want to get to know you.”

“Do you have a picture of him?”

“No sweetie, I sure don’t. He wasn’t even in school long enough to get put in the yearbook. He was here maybe two weeks before his family left town.”

“So, if my daddy isn’t here who is going to take me to the daddy/daughter dance?”

For once, I have no answers for my little girl.

2004 2nd grade

“Whitney, for the last time!” I yell toward her room. “It is time to get up and get ready.”

I step back into the kitchen and continue drinking my coffee and waiting for my daughter to come in for a ride to school. Since her school is on the way to my job, it has become easier to just take her myself.

“Mommy?” Whitney says, as she enters the kitchen. I sigh as she is still in her pajamas. “I don’t feel good.”

“Whitney Deana Quentin, you cannot miss school. I have to work and there is no one here to stay with you.”

“But Mommy, my stomach hurts,” Whitney whines.

“Probably just hungry. Now go get dressed and we’ll go through the drive-thru on the way okay?”

She nods and slouches, turning and heading to her room.

The phone rings right before the lunch rush but I pay no mind to it while I’m wiping down tables and sitting the condiment bottles back in their little basket.

“Becka,” my friend and co-worker Elise calls for me. “Phone’s for you.”

I sit the rag down and wipe my hands on my apron as I approach the wall where the phone is located.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Quentin? This is Kara, the on-site nurse at Fairfax Elementary. Your daughter Whitney has been in my care. She got sick on the playground and is still complaining of stomach aches and that her side is hurting her. She is also running a slight temperature.”

“Oh god!” I gasp as I cover my mouth with my hand. Maybe Whitney hadn’t been lying this morning when she said she wasn’t feeling well.

“Now we’ve found some extra clothes in her cube in the classroom and I helped clean her up and she changed herself but she is pretty lethargic and irritable. I think it’d be best if you come pick her up and have her seen by her primary physician,” the nurse continues.

“Yes, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Thank you for calling.”

“Just come to the front office and have the secretary call me on the intercom and I’ll bring Whitney out to you.”

I hang up the phone and am frozen. My little girl, my baby, is sick and apparently threw up at playtime and it’s my fault she is even there to begin with.

Elise jolts me back to the present as she asks what’s wrong.

“Whitney is sick. I have to go pick her up,” I tell her as I rush around the counter toward the backroom. Suddenly remembering what time it is I stop and turn. “Oh god. El, the lunch rush.”

“Don’t worry about a thing darlin’,” she tells me with a smile. “You go get that little girl taken care of. Tell her Aunt El will come by and see her later, ok?”

After picking Whitney up and seeing just how sickly she looks, I head straight for the hospital. There is something wrong with my baby and I got to get it fixed.

@tftumblin @spnbaby-67 @markofdean79 @lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @travelingriversideblues-x @akshi8278 @keymology @hoboal87 @squirrelnotsam @natura1phenomenon @drakelover78 @larajadeschmidt13 @blacktithe7 @atc74 @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @vicariouslythruspn @sandlee44 @mogaruke @deanwanddamons @supraveng @deandreamernp @lyarr24

#dean winchester #john winchester #sam winchester #rebecca quentin #wounded hearts #past haunts sequel #smut #fluff #angst #supernatural #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction

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castiel-barnes · 3 years

Text

In Uniform.

Pairing: WW2 pilot Poe x fem! Reader.

Summary: After lots of trouble, Poe finally comes home to you. Set in World War 2.

Warnings: Hurt comfort. Mentions of blood. Swearing.

Wordcount: 1.8k

Tags: @mandosmimi @phoenixhalliwell

When Poe said he was going into the Air Force, you wanted to cry and slap him and tell him "no." But you also wanted to spend almost every waking moment with him and saying "I love you."

Whilst Poe was away, you spent every Monday and Friday with his father Kes. Kes was just as worried for Poe as you were. This was because Poe was his only family he had left. When Poe was young, his mother died in a flight accident. And since then Kes worried about Poe whenever he done one of his stupid stunts.

*************************

Dear sweetheart,

I honestly can't tell you how much I hate being away from you, and how much I am missing you. I wish that the two of us could be on that beach again with beebs from our last holiday. It's boring without you next to me darling. Just wish I could feel your touch again.

I'm going on a mission soon. I'm not sure how long I'll be in the air for, but it shouldn't be too long. The boys pick on me for having your picture amongst my stuff. It's in that book I said I got, to keep it nice and so it won't get creased.

Its a beautiful picture of you. I really like that summer dress on you.

I love you with all my heart.

Your pilot,

Poe xx

You smiled everytime you got a letter from Poe. Although sometimes you couldn't really read the pencil scribble, cause it was written in such haste. The two of you sent regular letters, sometimes you would add a photo and a small flower.

Darling Poe,

I think I miss you just as much as you miss me. I know that Beebs definitely misses you, he keeps sitting in your spot and whining.

I hope you are well my love. I wish you could be here holding me. Breena McKenna got a telegram the other day. Both Joseph and Richard died at Omaha Beach. Beebs and I went over there to comfort her. I wish you would've been here to help.

I hope that this war ends soon, so that I can be back in your arms again. Stay safe my pilot.

I love you so much.

Your sweetheart,

Y/n. Xx

You started to worry though. Poe's letters hadn't been arriving, and you thought that maybe he was busy. But it dragged on, and the pit of worry started to form in your stomach.

You and Breena were out on your porch, when two men dressed in military uniform came up to you. Breena looked at you, worry starting to show on her face.

"Mrs Dameron?" One asked,

"That's me." You replied feeling Breena's hand touch yours gently. The other guy gave you a telegram, and you felt your heart stutter for a moment. Opening the telegram, you saw 4 words written neatly on the paper.

'Lieutenant Poe Dameron. MIA.'

You felt tears threatening to spill onto your cheek.

"E-excuse me, what does MIA mean?" You ask to double check you knew what it meant,

"Missing in action. I'm sorry Ma'am." The first man replied. As the men left, you felt your breathing pick up.

"Y/n come inside." Breena stated quietly. But you didn't get inside, you fell to the ground and started to sob.

"H-he promised Breena. He promised me he'd come home." You whimpered as Breena held you.

****************************

Somewhere in France:

Poe's plane had been shot down by a Messerschmitt 109. Now he was floating down to the ground.

"Shit... shit." Poe said as the parachute drifted towards some trees. He managed to miss the trees and land safely on the ground.

The only things Poe had on him was a knife and his side arms. He looked around and found that he was completely alone. It was quiet and everything around Poe seemed to be completely still. That was until he heard a twig snap.

"Flash" a voice came,

"Thunder." Poe replied. Out of the woods came a platoon of airborne troopers. Easy company.

"What's your name trooper?" A sergeant asked,

"Lieutenant Poe Dameron 2nd squadron." Poe replied looking at the small platoon of airborne troopers.

"Sergeant Lypton sir. What's an air force officer doing in the middle of the woods sir?" Lypton asked,

"Plane got shot down. Just a simple recon mission." Poe stated.

"We'll get you back to our section sir and you can talk to Captain Winters." Lypton said. The platoon formed in to staggered form, with Poe walking next to Lypton.

All of the sudden bullets started to fly through the air. Everyone dropped to the ground and started to fire back. The tree near Poe exploded and wood fragments went into his leg and partially into his side. Lypton heard Poe scream in pain and instantly went to help him.

"Sir!! It's alright you're gonna be alright. Poe come on stay with me." Lypton shouted applying pressure to Poes wounds. Lyptons hands were covered in blood. In Poe's blood.

Poe could feel his body getting lifted up and carried. But other than that Poe's senses had gone and he was on the verge of passing out.

When Poe came round, he found himself in a tent amongst other men. He tried to move but as he did he felt the pain yet dulled down go through his side and down his leg.

"Try not to move sir." A voice from next to him said,

Poe looked to his side and saw Sergeant Lypton. Poe smiled a little and laid his head back down.

"Is it bad?" Poe asked, his voice slightly croaky,

"If I'm honest sir. Your leg is in quite bad shape sir, but you still have it. You're getting transferred nearer to where your base is." Lypton explained.

"Okay, thank you Lypton. Thanks for helping me." Poe responded,

"It's my pleasure sir, stay safe." Lypton stated standing up and saluting. Poe slauted back and rested for the rest of the day.

Later that day, Poe had managed to get transferred to an aid station right near his base. His best friend Snap came into the tent and found him.

"Shit Poe, we thought you died." Snap stated hugging Poe,

"I thought I did for a moment. I- I need to call Y/n she'll be worried as hell and so would dad." Poe groaned.

"Alright, here." Snap pulled up a wheel chair and helped Poe into it. "Careful Poe, I've got you." Snap continued,

Snap wheeled Poe of the Aid tent, and found a spare phone that wasn't in use. Snap left Poe for a bit, so he could talk to you and his father in private.

Your phone rang and your head snapped up from where it was reading the newspaper. You quickly went over to it and picked it up.

"Hello?" You stated,

"Y/n? It's Poe... darling it's me." Poe responded. Your heart stopped.

"Poe? It's you, are you alright? What happened? Oh I can hear you." You said sobbing over the phone,

"I'm alright apart from my leg and my side but don't worry. Baby listen to me, I'm gonna see you very soon I promise." Poe said closing his eyes, tears coming to his.

"You're coming home?" You asked,

"Yeah baby, im coming home." Poe replied. "I'll be home soon Y/n, I love you so much." He continued.

"I love you too, be careful Poe." You responded finally smiling after days. As soon as Poe hung up, you ran over to Breena's.

"Breena!! He's alive!!" You exclaimed,

"What?" She asked.

"Poe! He's alive." You said. She smiled and hugged you. Breena really didn't want you to go through what she did with her brothers.

Snap took him back to the tent, and helped him back onto the bed.

"We're gonna miss the hell out of Poe." Snap stated,

"I know you will, we'll go for drinks once this shit is over yeah?" Poe replied, snap smiled and agreed.

**************************

A few days later:

Poe was finally on his way back to you. He had all of his belongings, especially the book he had with your picture inside of it. He was in full uniform, but he was also on crutches so his leg could continue to heal properly.

You heard a knock at your door, and you quickly brushed yourself down before answering it. As you answered it, your jaw dropped to see your pilot. You smiled and hugged him and felt one of his hands come to your back.

"Hey baby." Poe whispered,

"Hi." You replied holding back a sob.

"I'm home." Poe said kissing you on the forehead. You smiled tearfully and felt him wipe the tears away. Helping Poe into the house, you looked over him fully. There he was wearing uniform, but on crutches at the same time.

"What?" Poe asked, noticing you looking at him,

"You look handsome in uniform." You responded smiling and smoothing down the lapel of his jacket. Poe blushed, and it wasn't often you could get Poe to blush.

"Thank you honey." He smiled back kissing you gently. All of a sudden you heard the quick patter and sliding of nails on hard wood floor. Beebs, your and Poe's yellow labrador came barrowling through the house and practically jumped at Poe. Poe landed with a soft grunt and a groan which quickly turned into laughter.

"Hey buddy I missed you too." Poe stated smiling "you been doing your job beebs?" He continued playing with Beebs. Poe played with Beebs a little longer and then Beebs went off to have dinner.

"Do you want help honey?" You asked Poe who was still sitting on the floor,

"Yes please darling." Poe replied, you helped him up and gave him back his crutches.

"I'm going to get out of this uniform." He continued,

"Okay sweet." You replied and watch him go off into your shared bedroom. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Breena walking up your walk. She smiled at you.

"Is he okay?" She asked,

"He's on crutches but at least he's in one piece." You replied smiling back. And speaking of the devil, Poe came back dressed in normal clothing for the first time in over a year.

"Hey Breena." Poe smiled,

"Hi Poe, how are you?" Breena asked.

"As best as i can be in these." Poe gestured to the crutches, "I'm sorry to hear about your brothers." He continued,

"It's alright, we all knew it could happen. You're a lucky man to have this lady here Poe, she has the kindest heart out of everyone I know." Breena replied smiling. You smiled and blushed a little. Breena said goodbye and left the two of you be, for the rest of the day. The two of you sat together cuddled up on the sofa, sharing soft glances and sweet kisses.

"Does it hurt?" You asked quietly,

"Only a little, but not as bad as it did when it happened." Poe replied kissing the top of your head.

You were so glad to have Poe home. Although he was still recovering from his injuries, he was there.

You had your little family back.

#writing #au #wwii #poe dameron #star wars

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cherryblossomflowers · 4 years

Text

An Old Life Meets A New (Pt21)

Pairing: Jensen x Daughter, Danneel x Stepdaughter, Jared x Niece

Warnings: Slight Cussing, Angst, Fluff, Death Mentioned, Car Accident Mentioned, Anxiety/Depression, Arguing, Panic Attacks, Yelling, Fighting, Sex Mentioned

Summary: After the recent death of her mother, Harper must adjust to her new life in the Ackles home, this includes a new stepmother, half-siblings, and reconnecting with her father.

A/N: This is only the first part of the truth, Chapter 22 has the second half. The woman, Lizzy, is Harper’s mother’s name in case there is any confusion. No hate on Danneel or Jensen please. Feedback is greatly appreciated!

***ASK OPEN***

*LET ME KNOW IF YOU’D LIKE TO BE TAGGED*

*NEW CHAPTER EVERYDAY AT 3PM CST*

An Old Life Meets A New Masterlist

Chapter 21

Jensen and Harper were sitting on her bed, neither of them looking at the other. The only sounds were Harper's labored breathing from her sobbing.

Jensen glanced up at the half completed mural, "Your painting is really good. I didn't know you could draw."

Harper mumbled a reply, "You never asked."

Jensen sighed and stood from her bed, walking a few steps forward, "Harper, look. I know I really have messed up your life, but I'm trying to fix it. You just need to help me."

"I don't know how to help you, Dad."

Jensen's heart broke at his daughter's words, "I know of one way. But you're really not going to like it."

Harper turned to him, "And what's that?"

Jensen instantly had tears in his eyes, "Harper, what I'm about to tell you...just know that...I didn't have a choice in the matter."

Harper's chest tightened, "A choice in what exactly?"

Jensen stood there with his back to Harper, so scared of her reaction. Harper stood from her spot on the bed and made her way over to him.

"Dad, tell me what's going on. You're scaring me," she said in a small voice.

Jensen walked past her and back to her bed, sitting down with a sigh. Harper joined him, her eyes not leaving his face.

Jensen took a deep breath and began, "It was when you were just starting the 2nd grade..."

*FLASHBACK*

The school year had begun on a hot and muggy mid-morning August. An 8-year-old Harper sat in the backseat of her mom's car. Jensen was in the driver's seat, taking his little girl to school.

Jensen looked in the rear view mirror, "Are you excited, babygirl?"

Harper nodded enthusiastically, "I'm super excited! Mommy got me new school supplies and guess what!"

Jensen smiled, "What?"

Harper jumped in her seat, "It's all blue! It's my favorite color!"

Jensen chuckled, "I know it's your favorite, babygirl," he said as he pulled up to the school, "But what she didn't get you was a new lunch bag."

Harper gasped, "Daddy? Did you get me a surprise?"

Jensen turned around, "I may have."

He reached in the floorboard of the car and lifted up a bright blue lunch bag. It had a picture of Times Square on one side and the Texas Capitol on the other.

"I had it made for you before I came out here. Both sides represent who you are, a city girl and a country girl," said Jensen, handing it to Harper

Harper took her lunch and smiled, "Thanks Daddy!"

Jensen got out of the car and made his way over to the backseat door to help Harper. He unbuckled her and helped her out of the car.

"And don't worry, I made your lunch just the way you like it. PB&J with no crust, carrot sticks, an apple juice, and I may have added a cupcake in there for dessert," Jensen said with a wink.

Jensen bent down and hugged Harper, "I love you, babygirl. Have a good day okay? And remember, Mom is picking you up okay?"

Harper gave a huff, "Can't you stay a little longer?"

Jensen shook his head, "I'm sorry baby. I need to get home to Texas. But I'll be back soon, I promise."

Harper hugged Jensen again, "Okay, Daddy," she kissed his cheek, "I love you."

Then Harper caught the eye of a friend and ran off towards her school. Jensen watched his little girl run to talk to her friends, a smile formed on his face.

He hopped back into the car and sat in silence for a moment. That is until his phone began to ring. He looked down and saw Danneel's photo.

He answered quickly, "Hi honey."

"Jensen, I need to tell you something, but I really don't think it can wait until you get here," Danneel said, a slight panic in her voice.

Jensen's heart skipped, "Danneel, what's going on? Is everything alright?"

"Jensen, honey," said Danneel, on the verge of tears, "I'm pregnant!"

The smile grew on Jensen's face was from pure shock and happiness, "You're pregnant? Dee that's amazing news!"

Danneel chuckled, "I'm so glad you're happy, Jay. We can celebrate when you get home, okay?"

"Yes, ma'am. I should be home this evening. I love you."

"I love you more. Bye."

Jensen hung up and sat back in his seat, Danneel's pregnant. Oh man, I'm going to be a...

He turned his head towards the elementary school, his eye immediately falling on Harper. The smile faded at his realization.

What am I going to tell Harper? What am I going to tell her mom?

Jensen silently drove back to Harper's house. His mind was going a mile a minute. He felt panicked. Things were going so well with Harper and her mother, even if he got married to another woman. But now adding a baby into the mix?

He pulled into the driveway, turned off the car, and leaned his head back. If I don't tell her now, she'll find out somehow. And that's much worse than me just telling her.

Jensen got out of the car, walked up the sidewalk, and to the front door. He knocked and stood there for a moment before someone opened the door.

"Hey, Lizzy, can we talk?"

Harper's mom, Lizzy, rolled her eyes and opened the door further, "What is it this time, Ackles?"

Jensen walked inside the house and Lizzy shut the door behind them. She walked up to him and crossed her arms.

Jensen sighed, "I just got a call from Danneel. She's...pregnant."

Lizzy laughed, "Okay?"

Jensen was shocked, "You're not upset? Or angry?"

Lizzy shook her head, "Not at all. These next 9 months should be interesting."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, once that baby is born, I don't expect you to be around as much. Which means Harper will have you in her life less, she'll resent you, she'll want nothing to do with you, and we'll never hear from you again," Lizzy said.

Jensen was taken aback, "Wait what? You think once Danneel has our baby I'll just forget about Harper?"

Lizzy nodded her head, "Exactly."

"Lizzy, believe me when I say this. Nothing could be further from my thoughts. I want Harper in my life, she's my daughter," Jensen said, pleading with his ex.

"That's funny coming from a man who freaked out when he found out I was pregnant with his child," Lizzy said walking away.

Jensen chased after her, "I didn't freak out. I wasn't ready to be a father then. You and I both know that."

"Then maybe we shouldn't have had sex Jensen! That's what happens! Baby's happen when you have sex, genius!" Lizzy screamed at him.

"I know that, Lizzy, but-"

"If we could've just stayed together, this conversation wouldn't even be happening," she mumbled, interrupted him.

"Lizzy, listen-"

"But that didn't happen. Because you didn't love me. You loved someone else," Lizzy angrily said.

"Elizabeth, I did love you. It's not that I stopped loving you. You and I wanted different things. We were very young, and just learning about our lives. And I know that you know the main reason you and I are even still in contact is because of our daughter," replied Jensen.

Lizzy walked towards the front door, "Jensen, I think you should leave."

Jensen was shocked, "Lizzy, this conversation isn't done."

"I know. You should leave," Lizzy refused to look at him.

"Please, Elizabeth," Jensen begged.

"Call a cab to the airport. We'll talk later," Lizzy opened the door.

*FLASHBACK END*

"Your mom wouldn't tell me then what she was thinking, but I had a pretty good idea," said Jensen.

Harper was confused, "What does this have to do with anything? You and mom had a conversation about Danneel being pregnant?"

Jensen sighed, "When I got home, I got a call from your mother..."

*FLASHBACK*

Jensen's phone vibrated on his nightstand. He looked down and saw Lizzy's face on the screen. Danneel was fast asleep next to him, so he decided to take the phone call in another room.

He grabbed his phone and walked out of their bedroom. He kept walking until he got to the couch of the living room. He sat down and answered the phone.

Lizzy spoke, "Jensen Ackles."

Jensen sighed, "Yes, Lizzy?"

"You have 9 months left with our child. I hope you spend them wisely," she said flatly.

Jensen felt his heart stop. His breath felt like it was pulled from his lungs. Tears flooded his vision. He felt like he couldn't speak.

"W-what? Lizzy you can't do that to me! That's my daughter!" Jensen yelled into the phone.

"I don't care, Jensen. I'm saving Harper from heartbreak. I want her life to be happy and joyful. So the day your baby is born, you can forget about us okay? It'll make things easier for you and for us," Lizzy said coldly before hanging up the phone.

Jensen let the phone fall into his lap as he slumped forward. Tear were pouring down his face as he sobbed.

9 months...that's all I have left of Harper's life?

*FLASHBACK END*

Harper had tears streaming down her face, as did Jensen. Harper was in disbelief her of her mother. She had no idea about any of this. Mom was the reason...

The two sat in silence for a bit, neither knowing what to do or say.

Jensen spoke up, but his voice was barely a whisper, "But that's not all."

"Dad, I don't think I need to hear anymore. I honestly don't know how much more I can-"

"I need to tell you," Jensen interrupted, "...about the last day I got to see you."

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

Masterlist

My Cherry Blossoms

@mlovesstories @chessurkait @adorable-minibot @desiredposion @idksupernatural @thevelvetseries @spnfamily-j2 @let-me-luve-you @obsessedwithfandomsx @wecantgiggleitsafandom

@mangueweaschester @unicornmadness2444 @emery--nicole--morrison @starchildwild

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patchwork-panda · 3 years

Text

“I don’t want to be your... ‘ex.’”

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28870812

Genre: romance/angst Rating: 17+ for CW: subtle (non-graphic) mentions of depression, drinking, suicidal ideation, implied sex. Reader-insert has no description of gender/height/weight/race, etc Plot: You are Dazai Osamu's ex-lover. You run into him again one day at the Uzumaki Cafe, months after you've broken up. He says he missed you. Do you take him back?

Mini Fic is written in 2nd person. based off of Ailee’s cover of Ex by Kiana Lede: link here

There he is.

You nearly drop your cup when you turn around.

Like usual, he’s sitting there at the table in the corner. He’s got his coffee in front of him along with that little red book, the “masterpiece” he carries with him everywhere he goes, the bright, lurid text trailing down the center of the tome visible even from your place by the counter. His lashes twitch as his deep brown eyes skim the page, the subtle flicking of his irises going right to left telling you that while he only looks to be idly flipping through, he’s drinking in every word.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he had never read this book before.

But you know all too well how many times he’s read it, don’t you?

Pulled it out of his bandaged hands on more than one occasion, often late in the night, throwing it on the floor in frustration as you let your silent tears do the talking for you.

You bite your lip.

Why does he look so beautiful to you even now?

It’s been months since you threw that bouquet of stark-white lilies back in his face. Months since you threw him out of your apartment and told him never to come back. Months since you decided you could finally come back to the cafe where it all began...

You clutch the cup of coffee in your hands a little more tightly, barely feeling the burn of the paper hot against your skin.

Unable to let go.

It’s been nearly half a year.

So why do you still feel that subtle, familiar ache in your chest when you look at him?

At Dazai Osamu?

Your ex-boyfriend...?

It must be the light...

Yes. That has to be it.

Something about the time of day, the way the sunlight streams through those elegant stained glass windows at his side. Bathing his body in the colors of a time long since past...

Right here, right now, the Uzumaki Cafe looks exactly like the way it did on that fateful morning you met him for the very first time.

He’s still wearing that dusty old trench coat with the sleeves rolled up, that softly pressed jet-black vest and those long, white slacks. The gem of the bolo tie around that thin bandaged neck glows like polished tourmaline in the light and as he shifts a little to turn the page, you see a fresh scar arcing across the back of his spindly left hand. His eyes, beautiful and inscrutable beneath those dark, softly curling bangs, don’t leave the page.

As you silently watch from across the cafe, he raises his free hand towards the sugar bowl and picks up a single white cube with a pair of tongs. He drops it into his cup with practiced ease, all the while never looking up from his book.

He always did have such a sweet tooth...

A sweet tooth to go with that sweet smile.

A subtle, bittersweet twinge tugs at your heart, the ache coming from somewhere deeper than the organ beneath your ribs.

He looks exactly the same as he did back then.

Like the picture in your cell phone you couldn’t bear to delete.

Like the man you’d fallen in love with the moment he’d taken your hand with a smile and declared that you were the most beautiful person he had ever met.

Just looking at him brings the memories back...

The memories of the nights you spent at his apartment. The smell of his sweat, the feel of his body moving against yours, the look in his eyes, glowing like burnished gold as he took you in the privacy of his home...

Your heart beats faster.

He was always so good with his hands. Even better with his words.

He would always have a honeyed greeting on his tongue, pleasant words to soothe away your fears as you lay next to him in the twisted, tangled sheets, the air growing colder on your bare skin as the waning moon rose higher in the night sky.

You loved the way he stroked your hair. Loved the pet names he used when the two of you were alone. Loved the way he looked at you when you woke up in his arms in the morning.

The way he smiled when you finally called him, “Osamu.”

His eyes and skin glowed when you saw him then, his dark, tousled hair curling so perfectly about his flushed, sweaty cheekbones when he smiled that you wondered how someone so dazzling could possibly be real.

But he wasn’t, was he?

He drops another cube of sugar into his cup with a soundless splash.

The twinge in your chest grows sharp.

Oh, how he had you fooled.

How could you have known on that bright, promising day?

That he was no hopeless romantic, no light in the darkest of nights?

No.

The man who sat before you countless times in that seat in the corner with a smile on his face and a joke on his lips was nothing more than a jester wearing a mask. A sad, broken, lonely soul whose good humor ran no deeper than the bandages on his wrists. A man who’d jerked away from you the moment you’d asked to see his scars.

And that’s when the spell began to break.

You began to see it.

That he drank too much.

Stayed up too late.

Refused to care for his body and deprived himself of the things he needed in order to keep it going, whether that fuel was food or sleep.

Referred to it as a pretty, empty shell that he’d hoped to leave emptier than it was already.

But you wouldn’t let him.

You loved him too much to let him. Owed him too much to let him.

He was your savior. The man who came to your aid when no others did. The man who saw you when no others would and insisted you were worth more than you could possibly know.

And so you’d tried to take care of him. You did.

You’d sometimes iron his work clothes when he stayed at your place. Threw a blanket over him and kissed him on the cheek when he fell asleep on the couch. Pushed him to eat a proper meal whenever you could and left little memos for him to read so he would know how much he was loved.

But it wasn’t enough.

He still wanted to leave. Even with you in this world, loving him as hard as you could and straining to stay by his side, he still wanted to leave.

Leave and take you with him...

He turns the page of the little red book in his hands.

You bite your lips.

How can he just sit there like that? At the booth you always shared? On the same side he always sat down at, only after he’d seen you settle in across the table from him?

After everything you've been through?

After everything you've both been through?

You bite your lips.

Was he waiting for someone?

And if he was...

You turn away.

You should go before he sees you.

But just as the thought crosses your mind, his bright brown eyes flick upwards towards you, spotting you over the pages of his favorite book. They widen momentarily in recognition.

He drops the book and you turn.

You hear running footsteps. He’s at your side before you can reach the door.

So quick in his thoughts and his movements.

Long, familiar fingers wrap around your wrist. You try to jerk away but he turns you to face him and the moment you see the look in his eyes, you feel your resolve begin to crumble.

“So it was you,” Dazai says, his voice low, “watching me from the counter...”

Of course.

Of course he was aware that you were there. He was aware of everything, wasn’t he? He always was.

“You look well,” he says when you meet his eyes at last. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

A smile slowly creeps onto his face as he inclines his head back towards the booth he’d just vacated.

“You wanna come sit? I’m just taking a little break from work and I could use the company...”

He trails off when he realizes you’re not answering.

He sighs.

Rubs the back of his neck with that freshly scarred hand.

“Guess not, huh?” he mumbles, looking away slightly.

He drops the hand rubbing his neck but doesn’t let go of you.

“Not like I blame you.”

Dazai looks back at you and his smile grows wistful. The familiarity makes the ache in your chest return, sharper than ever.

“Hey...” he says. “I know you probably don't believe me, but I really am sorry about before. I shouldn’t have said all those things I said, or done the things I did. It... it wasn’t fair to you.”

He’s only saying this because he knows these are words you want to hear. Because he’s two steps ahead of you and everyone else in everything that he does.

Because he’s Dazai.

His smile tightens.

“I mean that, you know,” he says, a note of pain sneaking into his voice as those perceptive brown eyes meet yours. “Really, I do. And I’ve missed you.”

Fingers reach up and wind their way into your hair.

“So much.”

He falls silent. Those beautiful amber eyes are sweeping over your face, as if he’s reading you. Reading you the way he was reading his book not two minutes ago.

His lips part and he speaks.

“Hey...”

The fingers around your wrist tighten and twitch.

“Do you think we could try again?” he asks, his voice soft and sweet.

He smooths your hair away from your face and gently caresses your cheek. His eyes seem to sparkle in the light.

“I’ll do better this time. I will. So, please...”

He takes your hand in his and slowly raises it to his lips.

“Give me another chance?”

Presses a burning kiss to your fingers.

“Give us another chance?”

Smiles like he did before. Bright, happy, charming. Like a little lost puppy, begging for a treat.

“Please? I don’t want to be your..."

You hear a subtle break in his voice and you feel a part of you breaking along with it.

“Your ‘ex.’”

You want to shake your head.

You have to.

You know you have to...

It’s a matter of life and death. Literally.

But you can’t.

Just one look into the depths of those sparkling brown eyes, dark and warm--warm like the cup of coffee clutched in your trembling hands. One glance at those softly smiling lips, sweet with sugar and affection, the most endearing of expressions.

One moment to consider a softly spoken word...

Dazai quietly whispers your first name.

And his voice seems to echo in the silence of the empty cafe.

It’s over.

You can’t walk away from him again.

You sigh.

“I’ll think about it...”

#dazai x reader #bsd x reader #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #bsd dazai osamu

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painandpleasure86 · 4 years

Text

Little Teeth (Deaky & Laura fic)

A/N: Hi ppl! The surprise after this little hiatus was this sweet one-shot, where Deaky and his daughter Laura are protagonists. Was a one-shot that born speaking with my friend @imflashqueen a couple of days ago. I posted in Wattpad the Spanish version (My friend Kate added it in her fic recommendation post, check it in her blog! ) and today I decided to post this here. I hope that you like it! Oh and the drawings were made for my friend Flash!

The pic it’s a scan of Pelo mag. This was when Queen came to Argentina in 1981. I really love this pic. It’s his daddiest pic (no thirsty meaning) ever to me.

Summary: two Laura’s anecdotes related with teeth from her childhood.

Word count: +900 words

Warning: no one. This is pure softness. And well, English it’s my 2nd language.

Permanent taglist: @warriorteam1924 @toomuchlove-willkillyou @deakysgurl (write me if u want to be in this list!)

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

Many things happened in her childhood, but there were two anecdotes related to her teeth that Laura always remembered very much. Things that made her smile, memorable things from those years when there were no major worries in life.

June '83

The couple were going to take their daughter to the doctor. They left their remaining children at the Ronnie's parents' house, as it was Laura's annual dental appointment, and having to monitor and care for so many children at once would be very laborious. John, to immortalize that moment, took the family camera with him. That day had to be recorded. Also, that tape was a way to have them with you when you were on tour. Playing that tape reminded him why he was touring. So they wouldn't suffer financial hardship like he did with his sister.

Because he had the camera with him, John decided to ride in the passenger seat. A few blocks after leaving the girl's siblings, John turns on the camera and points it at his wife.

-Well, today is June 28th, 1983. Sunny day in London, isn't it?

-Yes, but we don't just go out in the sun, answers the lady, looking briefly at the camera and smiling- today is a special day.

- Let's see... what is it? -he asks, pretending not to know.

-It's Laura's annual checkup- answers Veronica, raising her eyebrows as she drives.

John, then, focuses the camera on Laura. She was not comfortable going to the dentist. "I'm sure the doctor will scold me for eating too much candy on my birthday," the four-year-old thinks, looking out the window.

-Honey, what do you think about that? -he asks to his little daughter.

- I'm going to say that I always brush my teeth, so the doctor gives me a lollipop.

When the little girl answered, she looked at the camera in a special way. She made that face, so typical of her dad. It was the face of a girl who absorbed things from her father, among which was her mood. And his gestures. Obviously, the girl didn't realize it, but her parents did; and therefore, every time the girl made that face, they laughed. It was John with pigtails. This time, of course, was no exception.

-Oh, God, hahahaha. It's a great idea, my love- the man answers with laughter, still focusing on his daughter.

-There is no doubt that she is your daughter- says Veronica, looking at the road, but smiling. - When you go on tour, she it does. -Now the camera focuses on the lady.

- Does what? -the girl asks, confused.

-A face your daddy makes- she answers, looking back briefly. The traffic light its in red.

-Which one? -Laura asks.

John puts the camera down so his daughter can see his face. And he does it. The girl laughs.

The car starts up again. And John decides to turn the camera off. The day has just begun and there's so much to capture on video...

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

August '86

A few days before John's 35th birthday, while John was watching TV and Veronica was preparing a jug of lemonade in the kitchen, Laura arrived in the living room, excited.

-MOMMY, DADDY, LOOK!

Her mother wipes her hands with a dryer and comes running.

-My love, tell to us! -exclaims John, when the woman arrives in the living room.

At the sight of her parents, she smiles. She has dropped her first baby tooth.

They both congratulate her and ask her if he had the tooth with her. She shows the tooth between the index finger and thumb of one of her hands.

-Stay like that, I'll be right back-exclaimed Veronica and ran off again. But this time she came back with a Polaroid in her hands.

John was now beside the girl, on his knees, to keep up with her.

-Let's see, smile!

She had the tooth between the index finger and thumb of her right hand, while her father was hugging her and smiling genuinely, pointing his left hand at the tooth.

As the woman let the photo develop, she pointed at them again. This time, the girl put her arms around her father's neck, who then kissed on the girl's left cheek. Laura smiled exorbitantly.

-My baby it’s growing! -as he pinched one of her cheeks. He was very happy. He wouldn't stop smiling.

-Ouch, daddy!

-John, be careful! -while she was leaving the second picture to be developed. Get me my Laura notebook, scotch tape and my pen. You know where it is.

The man came back after five minutes with a notebook that said "Laura" in pink letters on the cover, a small roll of tape and a blue ink pen.

Sitting in the sofa, with the notebook in her lap, she began with the task of leave a record of that event. Her husband is sitting on her left and her daughter on her right. Until...

-MOMMYYYYYYY, I THINK THAT SOMETHING HAPPENED TO JOSH! -Michael suddenly shouted.

Before she ran upstairs, Veronica gave John the task of leaving the register.

14 August 1986: Laura lost her first tooth, a few days before my birthday. It's a beautiful early birthday present. This time I’m writing this thing because Mike called out to his mother, hahaha. John.

Under that entry, he sticks the tooth in, covered with tape. On the side, both pictures. Under the tooth, the girl writes her name. John closes the notebook and leaves it on the coffee table.

-Are we going to have lemonade and cookies as a celebration? -he asks his daughter, standing up.

-Wouldn't we have to wait for Mommy?

-I don't think she'll bother -he winked.

This time there was no video, but there were pictures. And a beautiful memory in both their minds. And a refreshing lemonade and cookies.

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

Thank you for reading this! If you really liked this, please reblog!! <3

-Lily <3

#painandpleasure86 writes #painandpleasure86 fics #john deacon #laura deacon #fluff #queen fluff #queen fic #queen fanfiction #deaky #deaky and family #support writers

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thetiredbiwrites · 5 years

Text

Nurse Rogers

Steve x Reader (Plationic!Bucky x Reader, Plationic!Sam x Reader)

Summary: Reader is ill so her dramatic boyfriend looks after her

Words: 3925

A/N: I seem to have a habit of writing a lot, even if it’s not that great 🤣, but I also love reading long fics so oh well 🤷‍♀️ (the ending might be a tad rushed as well but I got stuck at the end and I wanted to post something)

A/N no.2: I don’t usually write in 1st person (’I’ and ‘my’ and shit) so if it randomly jumps to 2nd person (’you’ and ‘your’ etc) I’m sorry.

I am not sick. I tell myself again. I had felt it starting last night. You know how colds are. You just know when it’s coming. The scratchy throat, the sniffly nose and the mild headache when you moved. But I flat out refused to believe I was sick. If I believe I’m not then, I wont be. Besides, these things are always worse first thing in the morning and last thing at night, right?

Having survived the morning after a brief trip the gym, having to cut it short when my lungs screamed for air and spots danced in my vision, and a meeting with Tony discussing some new tech for me to use on missions (luckily I managed to control my sneezing so he wouldn’t question it), I was now on a personal mission to make tea.

Bucky and Sam strolled into the kitchen, their ‘debate’ being cut short by my loud sneeze. I somehow succeeded in not spilling boiling water all over the counter instead of my mug of lemon green tea with honey (I’m not sick. My sore throat is for other reasons. Definitely.) I immediately regretted shaking the sneeze away when my head pounded, and Bucky and Sam definitely caught it.

“Gesundheit.”

“That didn’t sound good, are you ok Y/N?”

Sam and Bucky commented. I just put on a smile, finishing making my tea and waved it off.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Totally fine. Just, dust. You know?”

Replying in a raspy voice, even I didn’t believe me. Sam and Bucky looked at each other and back to me with raised eyebrows.

“You want us to pretend that sounded even remotely believable?”

Sam remarked, leaning on the counter in front of me as Bucky rounded it and placed his hand on my forehead before dropping it and sighing.

“You’re sick.” Snapping to look at him with an indignant look I willed my voice to remain steady, “I am not sick!” I was betrayed as I sneezed loudly into my arm.

Sam and Bucky were more similar than they would ever admit as they looked at me with matching looks of ‘oh really’ but concern in their eyes. I had become fast friends with them and they knew how damn stubborn I was. I signed and dropped my head in defeat.

“You might want to try and sound more convincing before Steve gets up here.” I quickly looked up at Sam with wide eyes, in a panic. “No, I’m not sick.” Looking between the two men I knew they weren’t going to believe me anytime soon. “Ok, maybe I am but it’s just a cold, it’s not that bad. I’ve had a million colds in my life, it’s fine. I’m fine. Steve doesn’t have to know, please.” I practically whined at the end. Begging for Steve not to know.

Steve could get a little dramatic. Ok a lot dramatic. If anyone got hurt or was sick he could turn into a mother hen. Making sure they were resting, following doctor’s orders and well looked after. It was annoying really. And hypocritical. Given how his sick pre-serum ass never sat still for two seconds and fought people three times his size in back-allies. You’d have thought Bucky would be the fussy one, having looked after Steve all that time. He would make sure people had what they needed and were resting appropriately, sure, but gave you space and freedom and wasn’t overbearing.

Steve could become especially annoying when I was hurt or sick. Having been together for two and a half years, I knew this. Hence why I was trying to avoid him and deny this sickness. Luckily, he was always up first and every other morning went on a run with Sam and Bucky. Meaning he wasn’t there when I woke this morning wheezing, sneezing and sniffling.

Bucky and Sam just sent me sympathetic looks as footsteps down the hall indicated the arrival of my boyfriend. I groaned, dropping my head and letting my hair curtain my face from him as I drank my soothing tea.

Steve greeted everyone with a cheery hello, clearly Sam and Bucky behaved during their morning run and training for a change. I replied with a mumbled hello, trying to disappear into my mug.

I felt Bucky gently pat my shoulder before retreating to sit next the Sam opposite from me. Seconds later, I felt another presence on my other side and closed my eyes, breathing in the tea and hoping he wouldn’t catch on.

Of course I’m not that lucky.

*Steve had easily picked up on his girlfriend’s behaviour, not even looking at him and the clipped greeting. He took a closer look at her as he stood up straight after grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. She was stood slightly hunched, hair covering her face as she held a mug to her face. She was slightly shivering and wearing a chunky knitted cardigan which was unnecessary in the heated tower. Sparing a glance at Bucky and Sam he noticed them avoiding his gaze. The whole picture was off to him.*

I felt Steve place one hand on the other side of my head before planting a kiss on the other side, keeping his hand in place as he spoke.

“You ok, sweetheart?”

I still didn’t look up as I finished my tea,”Mmhm, yeah. I’m ok.”

Steve sighed, clearly not believing me. He may be in an idiot sometimes but he wasn’t dumb. Taking the mug out of my hands and placing it on the counter, he gently directed my face to look at him. I kept my eyes down but could feel his scanning my face before copying Bucky’s earlier actions and placing a hand on my forehead and tutting.

“Y/N you’re sick.”

I heard Bucky and Sam take in a sharp breath as I slowly meet Steve’s stern, but worried, gaze. I knew it was pointless trying to argue, but I was going to anyway.

“Not I’m not. I’m…slightly under the weather. With a common cold. It’s not even a bother. I’m totally fine, not even that bad. I’ve definitely had worse.”

“Y/N.”

Here it comes.

“You are sick. You should be in bed. It could get worse and you don’t look fine. You’re pale, shaking, your eyes are red and puffy, your nose is red, your lips are dry and chapped and your voice sounds bad, should I go on or are you done?” I groaned and closed my eyes, rolling my neck I spared a glance to the guys who immediately found something on the counter more interesting. Useless so-called best friends.

Steve nodded once before declaring that I was going back to bed. As he quickly made me a fresh tea I leaned into the guys, who coved their faces from my infected breath, and glared. “Traitors. Some best friends you are, totally useless.”

“Let’s go.”

Groaning, again, I dropped my head and muttered, ‘I hate Nurse Rogers’, causing the traitors to let out a laugh. I pushed off the counter and trudged after my Nurse, pout on my face.

*two days later*

I had been confined to my bed, only granted permission to get up to use the bathroom. It was much more tasking to convince Steve to let me have a shower last night than interrogating HYDRA agents. I was currently trapped under many layers of blankets reminding myself I did in fact love my boyfriend.

My symptoms had gotten worse, as they always do in the early days of a cold. The ones I could hide from Steve, I did. The coughing fits, runny nose, teary eyes and croaky voice were impossible to hide from him. But he didn’t know that my whole body ached, my head was pounding and that my chest cried out with every breath. He’d only freak out and try to force me to the med bay, completely unnecessary.

I tried not to glare at him as he softly made his way over to sit on the bed next to me. Another mug of lemon tea was placed on the bedside table as he handed me some water and painkillers to take as he checked my temperature, again. I had given up trying to stop him, actually I had just stopped talking to him altogether. Communicating in nods and various hums when he asked something. He was frustrating, but he only did it because he loved me. Something I had to remind my self of more and more frequently and the minutes ticked by.

“Temp hasn’t changed much. I brought you another tea and some mild snacks that should also be gentle on your throat. Here’s some more tissues. You take your pills?” With eyebrows raised I just nodded at Steve who was somehow tucking the blankets tighter and fussing around me.

“I have to run out to the store so promise you’ll stay in bed, drink your tea and try to eat something. I’ll be back very soon.” With an ‘mmhmm’ from me, Steve gently kissed my head before, thankfully, leaving. The furthest from me he had been in the last two days was the kitchen of our shared floor. Even then, he kept the door open so he could still see me.

I waited ten minutes before confirming with FRIDAY that Steve was out of the building to- with great difficulty- throw the covers off. I had made the mistake of shivering last night which got me wrapped up in a hundred layers. However, a couple hours ago, it all switched, and I was way too hot. This meant I was a disgusting, sweaty mess now.

I quickly sprayed some deodorant on, changed my clothes into some breathable pj bottoms and a tee and brushed my hair. Grabbing my slipper-boots and tea, I’d be in so much bother if I didn’t drink it, I dragged my aching legs to the elevator.

“Hey FRIDAY, where’s Barnes and Wilson?”

Luckily FRIDAY is a high-tech AI designed by THE Tony Stark, meaning she could still understand my horrible voice. The effect of not speaking for a while made my throat scream and I tried to sooth it with my tea as I was informed the guys were in the gym.

A coughing fit broke out as the doors opened to the gym and yet I somehow managed not to spill any tea and walk in. This, of course, caught the attention of the two sweaty men in the middle of yet another competition, both turning to look at me.

“How the hell did you get away from Steve?”

“Did you finally snap and kill him?”

Bucky and Sam asked as my coughs eased, free hand slightly pressing on my chest as I got my breathing back.

“Ha Ha. I don’t think I could if I tried right now.”

I made my way in front of the boys, who’s faces scrunched into sympathy and concern as the sound of my voice.

“He had to go to the store so I finally got my chance to bolt. Escape the confines of my bed. And to see my two favourite guys, of course!”

I laid it on thick at the end, smile wide- well, as wide as possible when they’re so cracked and sore. The boys just smiled and rolled their eyes, despite being sure they knew what I wanted, they asked anyway.

“Please, please, please, distract Steve. I am begging you. I will do anything, and that is a lot to promise to the two of you!” “Hey, offended.” “What do you expect us to do? Trying to get him to leave you is like convincing Tony to go to bed.”

Bucky had a point. Steve had cancelled all his training, gym time, meetings, everything. Just to stay with me. It was sweet, in a way. He loves me, but he’s smothering me. There’s a line.

“Maybe…you could make up a mission? Or spice one up a bit so that Captain America is needed?” The only chance Steve would leave is if innocent lives were at risk and he was needed. It had to be important and urgent, it was my only hope.

“’spice up’. Are you kidding, Y/N? You want us to lie about a mission just so you can have a break?” “Sam you have no idea what I would do. I cannot take anymore of this. I know he’s trying to help but to be honest he’s just prolonging this. The tea is the only thing working right now. I’m not dying but if innocents might be in danger of dying, they he’ll leave. Hopefully.”

Bucky dropped his head with a sigh. He knew better than anyone how Steve could be. During his recovery and adjustment into the 21st century and away from HYDRA, Steve was with him almost 24/7. After two weeks in the tower, he couldn’t take it anymore. He had slipped away from Steve and found himself in the lab with Tony and me. It didn’t take much begging for Tony to lock us in the lab and Steve out. He loves to mess with Steve.

“Ok. Sam, don’t you and Nat have that mission this afternoon? Maybe you could tell him there’s been some chatter and Captain America is needed.”

Sam looked at Bucky in disbelief and betrayal that he gave in so quickly. Also, that what Bucky came up with would pin him to blame when Steve finds out. But one look at my tired, begging, teary puppy eyes, had him caving.

“Ok, ok. I’ll let Nat know. Maybe we can tell him there’s word of more guards or hostages or something. But when he finds out, I’m blaming you, Tin-Arm.”

When Steve returned half an hour later, I was back in bed- with significantly less layers of blankets- watching Scrubs re-runs on tv and explaining things to Bucky who had cleaned up and offered to keep me company, without fussing over my cold.

Steve, after announcing his return and greeting Bucky, was immediately at my bedside again spewing question after question about how I was feeling.

“Hey, Punk, ease up. Try taking a breath and you might get an answer.”

Bucky came to my defence and Steve snapped his mouth shut. Bucky smirked slightly as he glanced at me and I smiled a thanks in return.

“I think Sam was looking for you. Something about a mission.”

“Yeah, I caught him downstairs. They have a meeting soon and leave in a few hours but-“

“Go” I rasped out the first work I’d spoken to him in days. My voice definitely felt worse after being mute for 48 hours then talking and laughing with Bucky for the last 30 minutes. But I didn’t show it.

“But I don’t- what if you- I wouldn’t be back for a couple days and you’re-“

“Fine. She’s fine, Steve. Don’t want to make your girl feel guilty if someone got hurt or killed because you chose to be dramatic about her basic, easily recovered from cold over going on this mission, do you?”

Damn. He’s good at this. Ok little mean, definitely a guilt trip. But it’s working and I need a break.

“I’ll stay with her. Get your butt to the meeting and go do your damn job.” I placed a hand over Steve’s and with a comforting smile told him I would be ok. With much reluctance and many glances, Steve gathered what he would need and headed out. Not before kissing my head goodbye though. He tried to tell me he doesn’t get sick with the serum so just let him kiss me, but I was not allowing myself to suddenly cough or sneeze into his mouth. Yuck.

Steve POV

(Two days later, back at the compound)

“So, you two lied to me?” Steve stormed through the halls, still in his uniform, Sam and Bucky trailing behind. He was infuriated.

He had easily realised he was not in fact needed on the mission the day after they arrived. He had decided to ignore it and just complete the mission as he was already there. The second they landed at the compound, however, Steve had turned to Sam and Natasha in fury. Natasha was quick to announce she had no part and take her leave. Bucky had made the mistake of meeting them when they landed, a mistake Sam was grateful for.

“Well, yes, but-“

Steve cut Sam off, “You lied to me. Made me go on a mission I was not needed on while Y/N is sick. I should have been here, looking after her. She could have-“

“She asked us to do it.”

Steve stopped and turned to Bucky, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Y/N asked us to do something. The only thing you would leave her alone for is a mission- If innocent lives were in danger.” He explained, softly. He knew as well as Y/N did that Steve was overprotective out of love.

“She did what? Why-why would she…?” Steve questioned, quietly. He was hurt. He just wanted to look after her, like a good boyfriend and friend should. He wanted her to be ok because he hated seeing her down or hurting or sick.

“Because she was going crazy. Dude, we know-she knows- that you love her. Like a lot, man, getting you to shut up about her is near impossible. But you get a bit much when any of us are sick or injured, but when it’s Y/N, man you go overboard.”

Steve was silenced by Sam’s confession. He just wanted everyone to be ok. He had realised he could go a little over the top sometimes, but every member of the team is so damn stubborn. Natasha dislocated her shoulder the year previous and, against doctors orders, was in the gym the following week. Clint had the flu the previous winter and still insisted on flying himself back home to Laura and the kids.

Both Tony’s therapist and the med bay doctor told him he needed to sleep more, and not at his workbench (it was not good for his back!), and yet he hadn’t listened. Steve is the only the one who still regularly pressures Tony to sleep. After the accords and Siberia incident, when everything was settled and everyone returned to the compound, Steve made an effort to pay more attention to Tony. Noting all the mistakes he made before. Tony did well at hiding his PTSD, anxiety and lack of decent sleep. But once Steve realised, he made it a personal mission to help him and regular, good sleep would go a long way. Even if it usually included arguments, threats to get FRIDAY or call Y/N down to get all his equipment shut down and even occasionally just picking him up, fireman style, and carrying him to his bed. After a 9 day stretch in the lab Steve had carried Tony to his room and stood guard til he was asleep (he had a habit of sneaking back out) and it wasn’t long until Tony was out for the night.

But Y/N, she was so important to him. And just as stubborn. Steve couldn’t bear the thought of her being in any sort of pain or anything bad happening her. He certainly couldn’t imagine losing her. It scared the shit out of him. He was just trying to help.

“Steve,” Bucky broke his prolonged silence, “she loves you, she knows you’re just trying to help her. But it’s just a cold. She just needs rest and occasionally painkillers for the headache. She admits the tea was helpful, but it’s hard to rest with hourly temperature checks, a game of 20 questions and those concerned eyes watching her 24-seven.” He pointed to Steve’s eyes, a smile on his face, and the corner of Steve’s mouth twitched.

“I guess I could, back off a bit. I was a slightly dramatic for a common cold.”

“Slightly?! Dude, just, ask her what she needs. Be there for her without taking over. You know she calls you ‘Nurse Rogers’ right?”

Steve laughed, “Really? Well I guess it’s appropriate.” He nodded and thanked his best friends.

Y/N POV

I was curled into my side, covers over my head and facing away from the windows. Curses aimed at my boyfriend swirled around my pounding head, why the hell did I agree to not have blackout curtains? I could have got black out blinds underneath for when he isn’t here. Maybe I’ll ask Tony next time I see him. Steve liked to wake up and see the light entering the room. He’s an early morning person and I’m not even a morning person. I accepted it though, actually got used to it and mastered the ability of easily falling back to sleep with the light. But my head hurts so much that the light is ten times too bright, making my eyes burn and the cold monster pound it’s heaving fists against my skull.

The rest of my symptoms had either disappeared or lessened. I no longer had a runny nose or teary eyes, no sudden sneezing or constant coughing and my throat was much better. I still had mini coughing fits and my chest ached, but not as much as the previous days. Unfortunately, the headache was relentless.

This is how Steve found me, the door slightly and slowly scuffing across the carpet and his light footsteps alerting me to his presence and identifying them as him. Bucky’s footsteps where slightly louder (and he had visited many times the last couple days) and Sam always swung the door open quickly. I didn’t raise my head though. I hadn’t long taken painkillers after waking up and they had yet to kick in.

I felt the bed dip and Steve carefully perched at the edge next to me and I braved peaking over the covers at him. He held a small and soft look on his face which brought me comfort. I had missed him. Well, I had missed Steve not Nurse Rogers. Bucky had checked in, especially first thing in the morning and last thing at night when I felt the worst, just to ask if I needed anything, and we watched a couple movies. I was perfectly able to look after myself, I did it before he came along and I can do it now.

“I know you got the guys to send me on that mission.”

I cringed and looked up at him, guilt on my face.

“It’s ok, I know I’m, a lot. They told me. I just love you so much and wanted to help. I guess you got too much of ‘Nurse Rogers’ huh?” He smirked slightly, running his hand through my hair.

“I’m sorry.” I mumbled from under the overs, my mouth still hidden.

“Do you need anything? What do you want?”

“I want my boyfriend. Not a Nurse. I want my boyfriend to just lie in bed and watch crappy tv with me.”

He moved to get into bed, but I stopped him, “after he takes his uniform off and takes a shower.”

15 minutes later I was curled into my boyfriend’s side, head on his chest as we watched some baking programme arguing over who’s cake was better. He had one arm round my waist, thumb rubbing soothing circles on my hip and the other running through my hair. It wasn’t long until I was asleep, happily in his arms and already feeling a hell of a lot better.

#avengers imagine #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #avengers reader insert #platonic bucky barnes x reader #platonic sam wilson x reader #follow my instagram please #thetired_bi

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