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troubatrain · 3 years

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want you to want me - m. tkachuk

a/n: i’m awful at intros but this fic is my whole ass child. i started it months ago and i picked it up back and then i just couldn’t stop writing. now we’re at a whopping 10k words and i’m really happy with the way this one came out. i hope you guys like it as much as i loved writing it.

big thanks to @hookingminor @igor-shestyorkin & @tkafuckit for reading this as i wrote it and gassing me up ily all sm

warnings: smut

You were Matthew’s dream girl, and you didn’t have a fucking clue. You were leaning against the cold metal bleachers of your former high school, chatting with whatever teacher probably wanted to hear all about that shiny NWSL contract you signed right out of college with the Chicago Red Stars. It was well deserved, a few national titles in college put you in the position in the first place, and Matthew respected the hell out of you. You wouldn’t know, by the way he never seems like he actually wants to speak to you and the few snide remarks about your sport in general. That started forever ago, when Matthew royally fucked up any chance he had with you later in life because he was a competitive asshole.

It started when you were twelve, and middle school was nothing short of a mess. Matthew was growing into his own, adding a near foot to his height over one summer while his father and coaches doted on the fact that he was getting bigger. Getting bigger meant getting better, and for a few years winning was the most important thing in the world. But, becoming a hormonal preteen came with something else, feelings about the girl who sat three rows behind him in almost all of his classes.

Then third period gym class came around, and Matthew was a competitive monster. The kind of kid who took that way too seriously, and you accidentally became public enemy number one. You were the only person in his class who could even come close to beating him at anything, because you were just as much of an athlete as he was. Soccer had become your craft, and much like Matthew, you declared you’d go pro one day. So, Matthew did what any other insecure twelve year old boy would, he teased you relentlessly. It was awful, but by the time Matthew had gone off to play for the National team you had forgotten about his bullshit.

Apparently, you’d done something in a past life to warrant dealing with Matthew for longer than you ever anticipated. Jamie was your little sister, and Taryn’s best friend. Best friend was probably understatement, the pair were inseparable on and off the field. They trained together, they played on the same teams and that meant way too much time with the rest of the Tkachuk’s. You learned quickly, that the rest of their family was wonderful and Matthew seemed to be too thick headed to fall in line.

You tolerated Matthew, brushing his silly remarks off just like you did when you were younger. The thing was, Matthew didn’t want you to just tolerate him, but he didn’t know how to get you to stop hating him. You make your way over to Matthew who’d been standing next to his brother since the start of your sister’s game.

“Hi Brady,” You greet, tapping Brady on the shoulder who pulled you into a bone crushing hug. That annoyed Matthew the most, the way you seemed to love his siblings and despise him. In your defense, nobody was more supportive of your professional career than Brady, who’d made a promise to catch a game the second he could, “Hi Matthew.”

You were waiting for something from Matthew, an acknowledgement for finally achieving a dream of yours. You’d gotten the congratulations from the rest of his family, a massive celebration because Keith thought you deserved it. Matthew probably didn’t think you did. You could practically hear his smug little voice about how much his recently inked contract was compared to yours, because you’d heard it since you were kids. He used to rip on your athletic abilities every chance he could, something about how it didn’t matter how hard you could kick a ball you couldn’t hold a hockey stick so he was just better.

“You’re here!” You hear the chipper voice of your little sister approach, Jamie’s sweaty postgame arms wrapped around your waist. You’d been in Chicago, signing some paperwork and looking into finding a place to stay when you had to go for camp. You promised you’d make it back in time, and your flight landed less than five hours ago but you made it.

Matthew bit the inside of his cheek to keep his smile to himself, watching his own sister push past him to see you. Taryn loved you, because sometimes she just needed a big sister and her brothers were in another country most

of the time. It was the part that killed him the most, seeing you with his family. You fit right in, a fierce athlete with drive that rivaled his own. Brady side-eyed his own brother, watching him instead of the scene unfolding in front of him. He was frustrated with his own brother for not just telling you the truth, that he teased you because he was an idiot who didn’t know how to handle having a crush on you.

But Brady was going to do it himself if his brother didn’t.

***

Matt, you don’t have a girlfriend right?

Matthew knew damn well he should not have answered his sister’s question, but when he realized her best friend had been sitting right next to her in the kitchen, his curiosity got the best of him. So he did, telling his sister he was single and sparing her details of any of the girls he’d gone on dates with the past year. That was his life is Calgary, a constant revolving door so no one would see what was underneath layers of sarcasm and angst. But every summer, he’d come home and wonder when he’d start to build a life for himself, and if he’d ever find that person to do it with. That was when his brain would start to wander, fantasies of a future that always seemed to involve you. He loved to imagine it, the years that you’d both spend supporting the other’s dream. Matthew would do anything to make sure you achieved yours, and he thought you’d do the same. Then you’d both settle down, the big house with the white picket fence and a shiny ring on your finger Matthew put there himself and years of arguing about what sport your future children would play - he’d even consider letting you have just one.

Unfortunately, none of that could be real until he figured out how to get you to hate him less. Taryn apparently had the same idea, and had been scheming with your sister for months. The two girls were looking at Matthew with devilish grins on their faces, like whatever they came up with would totally work.

“Y/N doesn’t have a boyfriend,” Your sister hums, sipping the smoothie they forced Matthew to drive them to go get, “It’s sad actually-”

“We think you should date,” Taryn explains, Matthew’s eyes went wide. His sister didn’t know the whole story, or just how far back this stupid fued went. Taryn always loved you, so Matthew just kept his remarks to himself.

“I know you know Y/N doesn’t like me very much,” Matthew explains, “So tell me how that’s going to work.”

“Apologize to her, if she can forgive me for anything she’ll forgive you,” Jamie sighs, thinking of all the times you’d shown her mercy when she didn’t deserve it.

“You’ve got to be sorry,” Brady interrupts, mouth full of food while he goes to go look for more in the fridge. He turns around, Matthew’s eyes giving him daggers, “What? You were a dick to her for years, you’ve got to fix that first.”

It didn’t take much convincing after that, Taryn had already planned out what Matthew should say to you. Matthew wasn’t going to repeat those words, because he knew exactly what he’d say to you if he ever got the chance. He was trying to fix his past, because the way he acted towards you was the one thing he regrets.

So with the help of your little sister and the Find my Friends app, Matthew was pulling up to a soccer field he’d been to plenty of times. He used to run through the park nearby, catching a glimpse of your practices when you were in high school and Matthew was an afterthought. He hops out of his car, smiling when he could see you running drills alone. You were dribbling the ball, counting to yourself while you were weaving through cones you set up.

“I’ve never been good at those,” Matthew calls out, walking over to you while you stopped and caught your breath, “I kick the cones with my skate every single time.”

“Maybe you’re not as good as you think you are,” You tease, grabbing your water and guzzling it down, “What are you doing here?”

“I, uh, I came to apologize?” Matthew admits, knowing his face was probably bright red. He was nervous, the good kind like he got before a big game, “I was just an insecure kid then, and you didn’t deserve what I did just because I was afraid you’d beat in something.”

Matthew left out the part where he felt like he was still that kid all the time. All of those insecurities about himself seemed to be picked up by every reporter in Canada when he was there. You bit your lip, pretending like you were trying to debate whether or not you should forgive Matthew at all. In reality, you would have forgiven him ages ago if he’d just apologized sooner. It was so long ago, and sometimes you thought Matthew’s constant taunting made you better. He was pleading, baby blue eyes staring at you sadly while he waited for your answer. He looked like he didn’t think he deserved to be forgiven, shoulders slumped while he tried to read your body language. It was something you noticed about Matthew forever ago, he could have everything in the world but when he looked at you he seemed almost sad.

“I mean I could forgive you, but only if you beat me,” You cross your arms, raising an eyebrow at Matthew, “If I win, I don’t have to and if you win all is forgiven.”

“Really? Isn’t that why we were in this situation to begin with?” Matthew points out, crossing his arms at you.

“I thought you weren’t that kid anymore,” You remind of his own words, testing him to see if he’d put his money where his mouth was. Matthew smirks, chuckling to himself, “C’mon Tkachuk let’s see what you got.”

Matthew shook his head, laughing and lining up next to you. You both counted to three, sprinting down the field at full force. Matthew knew his height was the only thing working to his advantage while he tried to keep up with you. You were nearing your finish line, and Matthew didn’t think he was going to win. You were going to forgive him regardless, but Matthew didn’t know that. His arms stretched out, grabbing your waist and pulling you into his chest. Matthew turned his body around, stepping over the line before you did.

“God, you’re such a fucking cheater Matthew,” You hit his chest, Matthew’s hands still firmly placed on your hips.

“I didn’t want to lose,” Matthew admits, all of his smug attitude diminishing immediately, “Just want you to forgive me.”

“I’ll forgive you if you never pull that shit on me again,” You poke his chest, slipping out of his grip and running to your stuff before he could notice how nervous he was making you.

No. Absolutely not. You told yourself while you checked your phone, rolling your eyes at the warning text from Jamie that Matthew was on his way, you couldn’t have anything but indifference to Matthew Tkachuk. It got harder everytime you saw him, the past few years had been nothing short of kind to him, he was growing from a dumb immature boy to a man more and more every summer. You turn around, peeking at Matthew who was sitting down and catching his breath, a winning smile on his face, the same kind he had the very first time he schooled everyone at floor hockey in middle school.

Maybe you could be friends.

***

Matthew liked having you as a friend, mostly because as of right now that was all he was going to get. You definitely didn’t trust him, which was valid considering Matthew had been a dick to you for years, but he was working on it. He had to, that uncontrollable feeling that he cared about you was getting harder to shove back down with every year that passed.

“You’re friends now, you don’t need to stare at her like a creep anymore,” Brady scoffs, watching his brother gawk at you from afar. Matthew couldn’t help it, you just had a glow about you, you always did, but somehow in the summer you were golden. Tonight you looked even better, maybe it’s because you smiled at him when he walked instead of scowling like you usually did.

“He’s in love with you,” Steph giggles, sipping her drink and giving Matthew a side eye, “He’s been staring at you all night.”

“He apologized to me,” You confess, holding in that little secret about Matthew’s visit to the field even from your best friend. You had the same friends, the same group of people who’d been pushing the two of you to work it out for years. It wasn’t that you didn’t want them to know that they no longer had to worry about one of you blowing up because the other was there, you just wanted everyone to let it go too. Matthew deserved a little forgiveness, you could only imagine the pressure he felt on himself back then, and while he didn’t totally deserve your protection - you were going to give it to him, “Don’t-”

“Oh wonder why, I know it’s because he looooves you,” Steph teases, “Did you forgive him?”

“Yeah I mean we’re both older and I’d like to think he’s wiser, and besides our parents are way too close,” You knew this was going to be your excuse for a while. It was better for everyone that you forgave him, Jamie and Taryn spent more time together than you’d spend with anyone and you're just as close with the rest of their family. It wasn’t untrue that it was in fact for the best, but that didn’t mean Matthew’s stupid dimples didn’t persuade you before you could think about anyone else, “Can we stop talking about this?”

Matthew’s eyes didn’t leave you once that night, especially after the way Steph downed tequila shots and convinced you to join her. You deserved to celebrate, you’d accomplished something Matthew knew was your biggest dream because it was the same as his. He was proud of you, not that he’d gotten a chance to show it.

“If you’re going to go pro Y/N, you’ve got to start keeping up,” Brady chirps, watching you stumble over your own feet to walk over to him and Matthew. Matthew had seen this once before, a level of drunkenness where you turned into bambi but that was so long ago he never thought he’d see it again.

“I’ll go pro in beating your ass Brady,” You snap back, shooting daggers over Brady who was already cracking up, “Hi Matthew.”

“Hi,” Matthew’s voice was small, a weird sound considering he was usually the loudest in the room. Brady scoffs, walking away from the two of you before he snaps at how hopelessly in love his brother was. You turn your head in confusion, your mind far too hazy to realize why Brady was so annoyed in the first place, causing Matthew to chuckle, “Want to play? Might be best if we’re on the same team.”

Matthew’s thumb shot over to the beer pong set up on the other side of the room, a mischievous smirk on face, “I mean if it’s for the best.”

Matthew’s arm wrapped around your shoulders holding you close to his chest while you both played pong was definitely not for the best, and it wasn’t helping that stupid crush you had on him. You could feel Steph’s stare from the corner of the room, and you look at her to mouth a don’t at her. It was nice having Matthew on your team, finally a moment where instead of arguing with each other about who’s elbow was clearly over the table - you got to do the same thing to Brady.

“Brady you’re cheating,” You call out, Matthew’s head thrown back in laughter at your seriousness.

“You heard her Brady, elbows over the table,” Matthew breathes out, his body still rumbling with laughter at his little brother’s expense.

“Oh look at you two, you’re just gonna raise some winners one day aren’t you?” Brady chirps back, both happy to see you getting along and annoyed once he realizes that means he was going to get roasted by both of you now. You felt heat rush to your cheeks, tucking your face into Matthew’s arm in hopes no one saw the way you shrunk at that stupid joke.

“We’re winners right now,” Matthew calls out, his last ball landing in the cup and sealing the game for the two of you. Matthew would raise winners with you, it was something he thought about from time to time, but those thoughts were never going to see the light of day, “Alright drunky I think it’s time to get you home.”

“You can stay, I’ll just catch a ride with someone,” You waive Matthew off, who shook his head no at you before you even started speaking.

“One, my dad would kick my ass if he knew I left you,” Matthew starts with, holding up one finger with another on the way, “Two, we’re friends now and I’d like to make sure you don’t die before you see a pro game.”

Matthew had seen you this drunk before, but what he didn’t know was that getting you home would be more difficult than he thought. You started in the direction of your house, but apparently you were a runner and a speedy one at that. Now you were barely two blocks away from Matthew’s parents place and if he could at least get you there he’d be able to call it a night - which wasn’t fucking easy.

“Alright I’ve had enough,” Matthew huffs, jogging to catch up with you and scooping you into his arms. You were hanging over his shoulder, Matthew making his way down the street with the house in his sightline. You could have cared less, laughing your ass off while Matthew walked up the stairs and finally placed you back down on your feet, “Be quiet, go up to my room and get some clothes and go sleep in the guest room.”

You weren’t quiet, not at all and Matthew was amazed not one of his parents came down to see what all the chaos was about. After Matthew had to walk you up the stairs, running back down for some water and hoping you weren’t a disaster by the time he got back - he found you in his bed. You were curled up right in the middle, an old London Knights shirt on your body, Matthew’s favorite. Matthew grabs his comforter, throwing it over your body. He sighs, leaning against his door frame and smiling to himself at how comfortable you looked, flicking off the light and retreating to the guest room.

Matthew hated the guest room. He hated how hard the mattress was and after a few hours of no sleep and tossing and turning - he gave up. Matthew hoped no one else was up, but not to his surprise his mother was already in the kitchen, and judging by the look on her face, she knew who was upstairs.

“Care to explain?” Chantal smirks, raising her eyebrows at her son. Matthew’s face got red, his landing on the back of his neck to cover the blush.

“She fell asleep before I could even get her to the guest room,” Matthew shrugs, hoping his mom wouldn’t push it any further, “I, uh, apologized the other day.”

“Good,” Chantal hums, a knowing look on her face. She didn’t like to push Matthew, her one kid who seemed to be a little rougher around the edges than the others, but that silly feud never sat right with her, “Here, bring her a coffee, I’m sure she needs it.”

Matthew nods, grabbing the mug his mother was holding out and starting to make his way up the stairs. He heard the tell her you made it from his mother and shook his head. He knew what she was thinking, especially with the way Chantal seemed to talk about you. His mother thought you were nothing short of perfect, and Matthew would be a liar if he didn’t think the same thing.

“Did I fall asleep here?” You’d woken up confused, your question only answered by the jerseys hanging on the walls, you were in Matthew’s room. You rub your eyes, the door creaking open way too loudly for how dead you felt.

“Only after you almost fell down the stairs and ran three blocks in the wrong direction,” Matthew chuckles, sitting on the edge of the bed and handing you the mug, “You know you’re fast right?”

“Yeah,” You muse, smirking to yourself and taking a sip of coffee, “I’m sorry I did that to you, and stole your bed - I can go.”

Matthew stopped you, telling to finish your coffee and relax and he’d drive you home after. You fell into a comfortable conversation, something Matthew never thought would happen.

And watching you walk up to your steps in his shirt still wasn’t something he thought he’d see, but it was better than he imagined.

***

“Hey it’s Jamie, can’t get to the phone right now…”

You groan, tossing your phone onto your bed and continuing your pace around the room. It was well after midnight, and your sister had been out all night, and past her curfew. Usually you’d cover for her, definitely taking the prize home for the cool older sister who picks her siblings and their friends up from parties. That’s what had you so worried. Sure, Jamie was a teenager and she snuck in a few little white lies with your parents just like you’d done, but Jamie always told you the truth. She’d check in with you more than her parents, letting you know that she’s going to be out late but she’s safe and if she needed anything she knew who to call. You texted sometime around ten, just checking in since it was Saturday and you were sure she had a more riveting social life than yourself. No answer. Then eleven rolled around and you didn’t hear anything, so naturally you double texted and now it’s twelve thirty and you still haven’t heard anything. You cross your arms, looking at your phone as if you could will an answer into existence. You grab it, dialing a number you weren’t even sure would work.

“Hello?” Matthew’s voice appeared on the other side of the line, clear confusion in his voice. You let out a sigh of relief, hoping Matthew would have the answer you wanted to hear so desperately.

“Is my sister at your house?” You ask, biting your lip and throwing on a pair of sweats so you could pick her up and murder her for scaring you like that. You were sure it was innocent, Jamie slept over at Taryn’s all the time, staying up way too late watching movies or when Jamie would hide going to a party from your much stricter parents.

Matthew tells you to give him a minute, and you can hear him walking through the house. By the time you heard a door open and a small fuck under his breath, your stomach dropped, “She was supposed to be home by midnight.”

“Alright, thanks anyways,” You sigh, “Do you know where they might have gone? It’s just, Jamie hasn’t answered me in hours and she usually does even if she’s out past curfew and I’m just-”

“I’ll be at your house in ten,” Matthew says, his keys alright in his hand and his foot halfway out the door. He was more mad than worried, sure his sister was out a party past curfew. Matthew was her biggest brother, and he was far more protective over her than Brady ever could be. He hated when she did this, and Matthew was pissed. You waited on your steps, Matthew car coming into view while you sprung up and practically sprinted into his car.

“You look mad,” You observe, as if it wasn’t completely obvious. You knew why, trying countless times to remind Taryn that her brother loves her and that’s why he’s like that. You thought he could go a little easier on her, but you wouldn’t dare get in the middle of that.

“I am mad,” Matthew grits out, knuckles white on his steering wheel while he drives slowly down the street. You just drove, in hopes you’d find what was obviously a house party and hopes your sisters were inside. You squint, hoping your eyes weren’t fooling you.

“Wait, pull over I think I see my neighbor,” You yell, Matthew’s foot flying on the break and you hop out. You were right, the bright orange tuft of hair you saw was like a miracle, “Hey Henry have you seen my sister?”

“Oh yeah I think she’s still inside,” Henry points to the house behind him, music blasting and a party in full swing, “I think she’s with Taryn.”

Matthew hops out of the car, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the house with him. Matthew’s fingers were laced with yours with every step he took, weaving through the crowd in hopes you’d see them. It took three bedrooms and a laundry room until you finally saw Taryn standing in the doorway. Her eyes went wide, and you pushed past them both to see Jamie with her head in the toilet. She was fine, well she was definitely in deep shit, but it wasn’t the worst thing to stumble upon. You throw her hair up, your attention moving to Matthew yelling at his sister in the hallway.

“Why didn’t you call someone,” Matthew yells, trying so damn hard to not completely snap on his baby sister. Taryn yells that her phone had died and then Jamie got sick and she didn’t know what to do. Of course they didn’t. You were probably more sympathetic, and you knew just how pissed off Matthew could get. You get up, pushing Taryn back into the bathroom and telling her to watch your sister.

“Calm down before you talk to her, please,” You plead, grabbing Matthew’s shoulders, “Besides, I sort of need some help right now.”

There it was. The very moment Matthew realized all along you could’ve been helping him. Your hands were wrapped around his biceps, a finger gently rubbing the skin right under the sleeve of his shirt. Every bit of anger disappeared from his body, a calm feeling replacing it. He knew you were right, and he’d be thankful for it later. Matthew knew he had to do the right thing by you, and he nodded, willing to follow any directions you gave him.

Matthew carried Jamie out of the house, getting both of your sisters in the car and finally heading back to your house. You knew he was still pissed off, a present frown on his face so you just took the chance. Just like he’d done before for you, you grabbed one of his hands from his steering wheel, lacing your fingers together. You caught the smile on his face, your thumb rubbing over his hand while his shoulders seemed to just relax. Once

Matthew finally helped you get Jamie inside, a night of laying on her floor to make sure she was okay ahead of you stood in the doorway with Matthew across from you.

“Thank you, I know we’re working on this friendship thing but you really didn’t have to do that,” You were eternally grateful, wrapping your arms around Matthew’s waist and tucking your head into his chest.

“You’d do the same thing for Taryn,” Matthew hums, knowing full well he definitely owed you for being Taryn’s replacement sibling with him and Brady in Canada for most of the year, “Get some rest okay?”

“Wait,” You stop Matthew, grabbing his hand one more time, “Don’t kill your sister, please she’s just a kid-”

“You’re way too easy on them,” Matthew chuckles, shaking his head at you. He knew Taryn was probably scared, and after he calmed a bit he understood where you were coming from. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to tell her that if she ever pulls that shit again - he was going to rat her out to their parents.

And when Matthew finally got back in the car, he could see his sister’s grin in the backseat, “Don’t say it.”

She held your hand, are you sure you’re not going to malfunction now?

***

Maybe you were spiraling.

You’d been waiting for this moment your entire life, now you had a few more weeks until camp started and you were afraid. You knew you were good enough, you had to be. But what if you weren’t? You could feel the anxiety settling in, a feeling you hadn’t felt since Matthew told you soccer wasn’t a real sport in fourth grace. It’d been eating at you for weeks, deteriorating any confidence you had left in yourself. So you started pushing yourself even harder. The harder you worked the less like you were to fuck it all up. Your muscles were sore, your body was tired and it was just all becoming too much.

And Matthew noticed.

You were pushing yourself too hard, even the time you were supposed to relax with your families before your seasons started was being spent training. He understood it, the term first round exit lived rent free in his head every single time his skate hit the ice over the summer, but that didn’t make it okay. You looked tired, sluggish while you moved because you were running twice a day and training in between. And he was pissed everyone seemed to be fine with it. You should start working harder then Matthew. If it bothers you so much maybe you could join her. It wasn’t that he was jealous of your work ethic, he was worried. Matthew’s eyes followed you as you ran past his house again. The third time in one day, he’d finally decided he had enough.

Matthew took the walk to your house, charming the pants off your mother for her to tell him you were upstairs because you just got back in. He knocks twice, hearing a come in from the other side.

“What are you doing here?” You question, rolling one of your ankles that just seemed to be getting more swollen every time you started to practice. Matthew noticed it, your hands freezing one you caught his gaze.

“You’re overworking yourself,” Matthew stands his ground, he knew you could have told him to fuck off because no one hates advice they didn’t ask for quite like him, “Don’t tell me I’m wrong.”

“That’s rich coming from the kid who’s played with more broken bones than anyone I know,” You remind him of a few mistakes Matthew’s made playing through injuries he really shouldn’t, “I’m not fucking frail.”

“That’s not what this is about,” Matthew scoffs, it never once crossed his mind that he thought he was tough enough to play through injuries but you weren’t, “It’s about taking a break so you don’t get hurt.”

“I’m fine,” You huff, getting up and trying your best to hide the pain in your ankle when you stood on it. You fell forward, Matthew catching you in his arms and putting you back down the edge of your bed.

“Tell me what’s wrong?” Matthew asks with soft eyes, he bent down to take your ankle in his hand and inspect it the best he could. It was swelling, probably from the amount of pressure you’d been putting on your body with no breaks.

“What if I never score a goal?” You whisper, teary eyes finally meeting Matthew’s. His brows shot up, alarmed at how one of the best athletes he’s ever seen could feel the same way he felt right before his first NHL game. Matthew sits down next to you, hand on your thigh while you let out a cry, “What if I’m just a bust? Like I get there and nothing works and I suck.”

“You’ll score eventually,” Matthew scoffs, understanding how ridiculous you sounded but just how you felt at the same time, “Everyone does.”

“You scored like four games into your fucking career Matt,” You remind him, Matthew smiling a bit that you knew that to begin with. It would have been impossible not to know, or pretend like you didn’t keep a few tabs on his career. Matthew Tkachuk was a legend in the making, and whether or not you could feel butterflies in your stomach every time he dropped the gloves was a secret you’d take to the grave.

“I got suspended my first season too,” Matthew jokes, a teary eyed laugh escaping your lips, “I’d put down money you score in your first game.”

“Well good thing you have money to lose,” You sigh dramatically, the fear of fucking up still on your mind.

“You’ll find your groove, all legends do,” Matthew promises, throwing his arm around your shoulders. You snuggled into his side, a realization that he was becoming a comforting presence in your life with each passing day, “And if you don’t, you can always hide out in Canada with me.”

“Matty!” The same silly nickname Matthew introduced himself to you on your very first day of kindergarten slipped through your lips without realizing it. Matthew hadn’t been called that in ages, but it was welcome from you. You push his chest, “That’s not making me feel any better.”

“What if I told you the only reason I was so mean to you was because I was intimidated by how talented you were?” Matthew confesses, scratching your head with his fingers, “If I win a cup one day I think I owe you one.”

Matthew didn’t mention that in his wildest fantasies of raising that cup over his head, you were there. He’d owe you one and he hoped it was because you were there for him until he got there. Matthew saw it the same way every time, you’d tell him to go see his parents first but he’d fly right past them to get to you - the person who accidentally pushed him to be his best. He had plenty of daydreams about you winning too, remembering times you used to brag you’d go to the Olympics one day, and he hoped you were right. He wanted to see you succeed, more than anything, and he thought it would work.

“Legally you have to let me drink out of it,” You muse, shutting your eyes and letting yourself just rest against Matthew.

“It has to be Bud Light,” Matthew teases while watching you fake a gag. You grab his outstretched hand, letting him pull you up. His hands rested on the side of your face, eyes flickering to your lips for just a second. He wanted to kiss you, but he knew he had to wait. Wait for you to be ready. Wait for you to settle down. Or even just wait until he thought he had a real shot at forever.

Forever with you.

***

Matthew was kind of pissed off.

The press didn’t bother him, none of that mattered and at the end of the day Matthew was able to sleep at night knowing he was a good teammate and a decent person most of the time. This one got him though, some writer criticizing the A on his jersey, and how someone who plays like he does didn’t deserve a letter.

A letter he earned.

You could tell something was off, the way Matthew had been running alongside you was aggressive to say the least. He insisted he came with you, something about forcing you to take breaks. He was being your friend, even though your sisters seemed to disagree. Taryn’s words were replaying in your head, Matt doesn’t even care if I get hurt. That didn’t mean anything, those two had no idea what love was and Matthew caring about you a little bit didn’t mean he loved you. Besides, the way he was acting right now told a completely different story.

“Are you mad at me?” You finally slow down, sitting on a rock that was next to the hiking trail you were on.

“No?” Matthew stops dead in his tracks, his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach that he fucked this up too, “I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”

“No, tell me what’s wrong,” You push, crossing your arms and narrowing your eyes at Matthew. You could tell he was pressed about something, his neck covered in a red flush the same way it used to.

“Some stupid article about my letter, don’t worry about it,” Matthew grits, repeating his words again. His defense was up, even after you confessed to him that you were scared of not being enough.

“Get the fuck out of here with the tough guy act Matthew,” You challenge him, poking him right in the chest, “If we’re going to be friends you need to cut that shit out.”

“You really want to hear it?” Matthew barks back, fully yelling at you, “I’m tired of people thinking I don’t deserve things because I threw a few bad hits. Do you know how it feels to have everyone think you’re shitty? No you don’t, because you’re so fucking perfect that my own parents like you more than me.”

You stood there, silent while you tried to figure out how to tell him that simply wasn’t true. His entire body was shaking, the anger coursing through his veins like you’d seen many times before that. Matthew looked like he did the first time you hit a homerun in gym class, except this time it was because that same pressure never got released. You couldn’t come close to understanding the way he probably felt. You didn’t have the comparables in your own family, the constant reminders of Brady’s points tally compared to his, let alone the career his father had.

“Matty,” You whisper, grabbing his hand and running your fingers over the scars on his knuckles, “Why is this bothering you so much?”

You were sure this wasn’t the first time someone’s said he was a pest, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be the last. Matthew sighed, the better part of his brain screaming at him to stop before he lost you too.

“I’ve felt like this forever,” Matthew whispers, eyes fixated on your hand in his, “From the moment I started getting bigger, there’s just been this pressure to play a certain way and act a certain way. I was a fucking kid, and while all of my friends got to go wherever they wanted all I ever did was practice. Then I finally get to where I wanted and I’m still getting shit on.”

“Except no one thinks you don’t deserve to be where you are,” You whisper, quiet words as if you were going to startle him, “And I know it doesn’t make up for things people say, but the people who love you think you deserve it.”

Matthew nods, pulling you into his arms and holding you close. Your arms wrapped around his waist, his words mumbled against your forehead, “I needed that.”

“I know,” You nod, smiling wide up at him, “And we need to practice more because you’re too slow, soooo catch me if you can!”

You slipped out of his arms, running away with a giggle and a smile. Matthew stopped for a second, his Neanderthal brain checking out your ass while you jogged away and his more logical one trying to process what just happened.

But what mattered most was that whatever you did worked and that meant something to Matthew.

***

Just admit you think he’s hot.

You wanted to kill your sister for making this weekend harder than it had to be. You were doing a good job at just friends with Matthew until Jamie was curled up in your bed while you packed for a lake trip with your friends. She pushed it for hours, rambling on about Matthew is actually your type and Taryn swears he’d be a good boyfriend if someone just understood him. The problem was, you were starting to see her point. Matthew had a glow up a few years ago, like one summer he’d gotten home and you were infatuated with him. It used to annoy you, because he’d been such an ass to you that you hated how attractive he was. Then things changed, and now looking at him was just frustrating you. You were terrified about the way he made you feel, like everything would be okay with one look of those blue eyes and a smirk. You felt like he had your back, a vast change from how you used to feel and it was just getting hard to hide it anymore.

Especially when Matthew looked like he did right now. He was holding himself up on the dock, shoulders broad and glistening in the moonlight above you. All your friends were inside, moving their party away from the water as the night lingered on. You wanted to run your fingers through his wet curls, the temptation was almost too much.

“I’ll be in Chicago a few times you know,” Matthew hums, enjoying the time alone he was getting with you. Anytime without Brady teasing him about what the Tkachuk’s had been referring to as the hand holding incident. He didn’t want them to think he didn’t want you, because he did, but he just needed to move at his own pace.

“You want to come see me play?” You ask, leaning back on the palms of your hands. You were surprised by the kind of man Matthew had become, it was a completely different person that he used to be. He cared so much about his loved ones, and you were starting to feel like maybe you had a place there.

“Actually thinking you could come see me play,” Matthew teases, sarcasm dripping from his words. You lifted your foot up, kicking some of the water below you to splash him, but he’d caught your ankle before you could. He stopped for a moment, running a thumb over your skin, “This looks better.”

“Don’t make you admit you were right,” You whine, Matthew swiftly pulling you into the water with him. You yelp, the water way too cold for any normal person, “It’s freezing.”

“C’mere then,” Matthew grabs your waist, pulling your body against his. His hands were splayed across your back, heat radiating off of them. One of your hands was on his shoulder, your other on his chest. You could feel his heart beating quickly, his eyes locked on yours, “Middle school Matthew would be so jealous of me right now.”

“Why’s that?” You hum, running your fingers along Matthew to play connect the dots with the beauty marks on his skin.

“Because he had the biggest crush on you,” Matthew confesses, his grip on you a little tighter, as if he was afraid you’d slip right through his fingers again, “But he was too thick headed to do anything about it.”

“What about grown up Matthew?” You ask, biting your lip. Matthew was practically holding you both up in the water, pressed so close together you could hear the hitch in his breath at your question, “Is he too thick headed to do something too?”

You wrapped your legs around Matthew’s waist, pressing your lips to his and tugging on the curls at the base of his neck. He pushed you up against the dock, helping you back up and pulling himself up next to you. You grabbed the back of his neck, latching your lips back on his. His hand was on your back, fingers toying with the back of your bathing suit, “Think we can get upstairs without anyone noticing?”

Matthew was cool most of the time. He never faltered under the pressure from his career, most of the time, and he definitely didn’t fold when it came to a pretty girl. You had him in the palm of your hand, every part of his brain malfunctioning in response to your words. You bit your lip, wondering if you’d read this entire situation. Matthew rubs a thumb along your lip, “When are you going to realize I’d do whatever you asked me to?”

The two of you snuck up the stairs, giggles and stolen kisses left in your wake. You open the door, Matthew’s hands still toying your bathing suit top, “Just take it off already Matty.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” Matthew breathes, his lips pressed against your neck while the garment falls to the floor, “So fucking beautiful.”

You back hit the mattress, Matthew’s hands running up your body slowly. Slow wasn’t in Matthew’s vocabulary, but he was taking his time just in case he never got this opportunity again. His fingers hooked under your bathing suit bottoms, sliding the wet fabric down your legs. You looked so beautiful, spread out just for Matthew like he’d dreamed about numerous times. His lips moved down to your breasts, teeth grazing against your skin while his tongue swirled against your nipple. You let out a breathy moan, Matthew’s ego boosting from the sound. You plucked at his curls while his mouth moved down to where you were craving him most, a gentle kiss to your clit, “Matty, please.”

“I didn’t peg you for the type to beg,” Matthew hums, pressing feather light kisses around your core. He stopped, gripping your thighs and looking up at you, “You sure about this?”

“Yes, please,” You whine, pussy dripping from Matthew’s hot breath fanning over it. Matthew chuckles darkly, fingers digging into your thighs when he flicked his tongue over your clit. You moan, completely unbothered by the blaring music a floor below you. Matthew didn’t seem to be bothered either, his tongue teasing your entrance while his nose rubbed against your clit, living for the way you were whimpering above him, “Matty-”

“Close baby?” Matthew groans, slipping a finger inside of you and curling it. You back arched, his name falling through your lips was enough to answer his question. Your legs shook, pleasure washing over your body from Matthew and all of it just felt so right. Matthew’s lips were latched to your skin until he finally met your eyes again. He smiles softly, nudging his nose with yours while you caught your breath, “So good for me.”

“Should’ve known you were that good with your mouth with the way you run it,” You tease smiling against his lips.

“Not with you, not anymore,” Matthew promises, soft blue eyes looking into yours, he meant it. He didn’t know how else to make it clearer, he wanted you. You kissed him slowly, hands trailing down his abs and stopping where his shorts hit his waist. Matthew kicks off his swim trunks, cock springing free. You grab the back of his neck, pulling your lips to his and rolling over top of him and straddling his waist. It was criminal how good you looked on top of him, “Gonna ride me babe?”

You nod, lining his dick up your core and lowering yourself on top of him. You let out a whine, Matthew’s smug smile on full display once he realized it was because of how big he was, “We don’t have to if my dick’s too big.”

“Oh shut up,” You roll your hips, watching the way Matthew’s head fell back, smirking because he really thought he had control here. Matthew’s hands gripped your waist, moving your hips faster. His finger flicked over your clit, causing you to lunge forward on top of him. Matthew flipped you over, wrapping a leg around his waist so he could hit your g-spot. Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails leaving scratches Matthew was going to wear pride later. You were seeing stars, noises leaving your throat you’d never even heard yourself make, “Fuck, Matty, I’m gonna cum again.”

“Look at me,” Matthew grabs your chin, pressing his forehead against yours and watching while your eyes roll back with pleasure. Your pussy clenched around him, his own cum spilling into you from the sensation, a loud groan following. Matthew pressed a kiss to your forehead, his cock still buried inside of you, “I wasn’t bullshitting you, I mean every word Y/N.”

“Matthew,” You whisper, running a finger along his back, “The distance…”

You didn’t mention everything, the way that if this was real it meant it would end up ripping you both apart. You were set to live in a different city, Matthew all the way in another country. The way your dreams included a spot on the U.S. National team, and the idea that wanting to be with Matthew would hold you back was terrifying. The way his dreams probably meant staying in Calgary forever, a C on his jersey and a cup over his head. It wasn’t going to be easy, you weren’t ever going to be the doting girlfriend he probably needed. There would be years of travel schedules and games that overlapped, and a part of you thought that maybe Matthew wouldn’t be able to do it. You’d get a year in and he’d find someone who would be there more and finally you’d end it.

“We can make it work, baby I want you, I always have and I probably always will,” Matthew starts, baring his soul to another person for the first time in his goddamn life, “I want to support your dreams and have you be there for mine. I’m all in here, I don’t know how else to tell you.”

“Can I have some time?” You plead, holding onto Matthew’s shoulders because you knew he could leave and tell you to never speak to him again. Matthew sighs, understanding the way you were shitting yourself about starting your own professional career, remembering the way rookie Matthew would have died before he considered settling down that first year, “Please don’t leave me-”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Matthew promises, rolling over and letting your rest on his chest, “I’ll wait for you.”

You smile, snuggling closer to him. Matthew didn’t sleep a minute that night, running every single scenario that could possibly happen with the two of you. Matthew was sure it would work out, it had to, because if it didn’t he wasn’t sure he’d be able to recover.

So now all he could was wait.

***

You know this is creepy right?

Matthew stares at Sam, punching his teammate in the arm lightly and telling him to shut up. He had a night off in Chicago, and after four straight hours of staring at your contact in his phone, Matthew finally just bought the tickets. He’d been good at keeping his distance, you needed space and he respected you enough to try and give it to you. He wasn’t doing so hot, Matthew consuming more soccer games than hockey games at this point. It started with your first game, because how was he supposed to just pretend like it wasn’t happening? You scored too, and it took everything in his power not to call you to tell you that not only was he right, he was insanely proud of you.

And he’d been hearing it from everyone. Your sister thought it was bullshit, Taryn and Jamie almost had Matthew on a flight to Chicago ready to show up like a terrible Lifetime movie. Brady thought it was hilarious the way Matthew was simping like this for one girl. Now, his teammates were on him, wondering why on Earth their friend who historically ran through women faster than he did mouthguards could be this hung up on someone he had a crush on in middle school.

“What number is she?” Sam asks, sipping the beer he forced Matthew to buy after making him go along with this.

“Nineteen,” Matthew smiles, pointing down at you on the field. You looked so happy, warming up with one of your teammates and a bright smile on your face. It seemed like a good fit, your team and your new city, and it made Matthew’s heart grow four sizes.

“Did she choose your number?” Sam jokes and Matthew mumbles something under his breath, “What?”

“It was her number first,” Matthew admits, not wanting to ever confess to another soul that you crossed his mind when he kept that camp number. Sam howled next to him, leaning over his seat and cracking up at his teammate.

You looked out in the crowd about halfway through the game, rubbing your eyes to make sure you weren’t seeing things. That tuft of curls was hard to miss, not to mention you knew just how big Matthew was. He was far too into the game to realize you caught him, up in arms about a call against your team that was valid but he’d argue it wasn’t. You asked for space, and it was getting harder to stick to your guns. Especially when he was making it so clear that he wanted this.

And whether or not you went to his game the next night, was a secret you’d take to the grave.

***

You were so close you could have tasted it.

While the final seconds of your season came to a close, all you could do was hold your head in your hands and hope no one caught the tears. A semi-final loss was devastating, but a semi-final loss where there wasn’t anything you could have done differently was even worse. Every athlete had off nights, a point Keith pushed right before you left to start your season, and he was right. Unfortunately, that was this game. Your biggest fear had come true and there was nothing you could do about it now. The game was over and you weren’t moving on.

And Matthew watched it.

Matthew promised you space, and he swore he’d give you the time you needed to settle down. But, this was something he couldn’t ignore. He could tell you were off, your entire rookie season was almost perfect and watching the way you folded during this game was gut wrenching. Matthew knew better than anyone, losing sucked. So he took the chance, grabbing his phone and shooting you a text he’d been waiting to send.

Doors open in Calgary.

and I’m so fucking proud of you.

It was the very last text you saw before you went to bed that night, tossing and turning for a few hours thinking about that loss. You couldn’t stop, every bone in your body was aching and you didn’t know what to do. So you bought a flight, packed your shit and was walking down the hallway to Matthew’s apartment without a second thought. You’d left him on read, calling Brady in the middle of the night and asking for his address, who gave it to you reluctantly with a reminder that if you needed to see him this badly you should rethink the needing time thing.

Matthew let out a groan when he had a bang at his door at three in the morning. Noah definitely was trying to walk into the wrong apartment again, and Matthew was grouchy when he whipped his door open. Except it wasn’t Noah after he’d had too many. It was you, teary eyed with your shit in a suitcase and a broken heart.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” You admit, whispering something you never thought you’d say to anyone, “I just didn’t do enough-”

Matthew didn’t say a word, pulling you into a bone crushing hug and holding you as tightly as he could. You didn’t need to hear it from him, about how things were out of your control and you did your best. You didn’t want that right now, you wanted him, “Baby…”

“Everything hurts,” You whimper, finally just letting it all out. You were bruised and battered from the season, the physical pain alone was enough to upset you, let alone the loss you just took. Matthew carded his fingers through your hair, letting you soak his bare chest with your tears because he wouldn’t have it any other way. You came back to him. You came back to him when things got too tough because you trusted him to bring you some peace, and he was happy about it.

You passed out sometime after that, your tears finally running dry and the exchaustion taking over your body. Matthew woke up early the next day, grateful for the optional morning skate so he could stay with you for just a little bit longer. The sun was just starting to peek through the curtains in his room, a calm snowy morning in Calgary so the city was just a bit quieter.

Matthew settled on breakfast, working away in his kitchen with the only thing he knew how to make. Tell her you made it, his mom’s words from just a few months prior in his head while he cooked. You padded out his bedroom, one of Matthew’s god awful beer shirts hanging from your frame while you wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed a kiss into his back, “It’s cold here.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Matthew hums, internally pumping his fist when he felt your lips form a smile against his skin. You turned your head, pressing your cheek against his against and letting out a laugh, “What’s so funny?”

“You framed my jersey?” You ask, your eye catching a jersey that was way too familiar. It was hung up beside Matthew’s from his first all star game, both number nineteens staring back at you.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re my favorite player,” Matthew hums, a blush covering his cheeks, “I’m so proud of you.”

“You keep saying that,” Matthew finally turns around, pressing a quick peck to your lips.

“I’ll keep saying it long after we both retire,” Matthew speaks, words clear and sure because he’s had plenty of time to practice this one, “I’ll say it when you win a World Cup gold, I’ll say it when we have kids, I’ll say when you play at the Olympics. I’m going to say it over and over again.”

“But…” You trail off, all of those same demons you’d been fighting when it came to your whatever this was with Matthew, “What I’m not around enough for you?”

Matthew knew what you were thinking about, he’d thought about it plenty too. There were countless sleepless nights where all he did was wonder if you’d find someone in Chicago who could support you better than he could. He’d do his best, he swore he would, but in order for you to be happy, your passion came first. There was always going to be times when he couldn’t be there and it killed him.

“You’re more than enough,” Matthew promises, his lips ghosting over yours, “I want you to seize every opportunity in the world, I just want to be there to tell you that I love you and use the goat emoji on Instagram when you do.”

You let out a laugh, Matthew’s smile wide enough to see his dimples you loved so much, “I think I want to stay a little while.”

“I think you should,” Matthew agrees, capturing your lips in his, “Besides I’m playing tonight and I think I need to show off now.”

“You’re a cocky asshole.”

“But now I’m your cocky asshole.”

***

One year Later

You had a good reason to be late.

You swore Matthew couldn’t possibly be mad at you for this one. You’d missed your flight to Calgary, a few days post a second loss in the semi finals that you’d been taking much better this time around. Mainly because Matthew wasn’t there, but his stupid smile and words of encouragement where there on facetime hours later. That wasn’t the reason you were late, the reason you were late was because you’d received the most insane news of your life and it was an important phone or that flight. You’d caught the next one, legs shaking not to just call him and share the news, but you needed to tell him in person.

You’d finally gotten by the doors to the locker room entrance, out of breath from spriting there from your cab. There was Matthew, tapping his phone and staring at the clock on his phone with furrowed eyebrows. He was still in his suit, tie pulled a little looser, a nervous habit you realized he had some time ago, “Matty-”

“Don’t call me that just because you know you’re late,” Matthew huffs, already ready for the pout that would have followed so he’d forget all about the fact that you promised you’d make it on time. He holds his hand out, waiting for the handshake he made up in the car on the way to the first game you went to after he finally locked it down. You laugh, slapping your hand against his and letting him pull you closer for a kiss.

“They want me on the National Team,” You mumble against his lips, the words spilling out of your mouth when you pull away with an excited smile. Matthew stood there stunned, while you shuffled your feet in the little dance you did when you were really happy. He grabs your cheeks, pressing kisses to your lips again and again.

“We’re celebrating after this, holy shit,” Matthew cheers, still stunned by your news, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, now go score a few goals so we have even more to celebrate,” You kiss him one more time, pushing him before the door before he was late.

“Anything I do seems unimportant now!” Matthew calls out, a light laugh to his voice as he watched you walk away to go sit in the stands.

And that’s how Matthew thought it should be.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #my writing #nhl imagine #nhl imagines

963 notes · View notes

allyouneedisbuck · 3 years

Text

my arms will hold you

summary // you and bucky are having your first child. [established! bucky barnes x fem!reader]

words // 7.7K (wowza)

warnings // pregnancy, birth, brief mention of religion, excessive use of the nickname pretty girl, depiction of labor, post endgame, post tfatws. steve didn’t go back in time but no other changes to endgame ending. i hate the word belly so it’s literally not used at all sorry, it’a majority fluff!

notes // this got away from me, it was supposed to be short lol check out the iconic song you’ll be in my heart by phil collins! from the tarzan soundtrack! i researched a lot for this so hopefully it makes sense & works well!!

replies & reblogs are greatly appreciated 💞

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

7 Weeks

You hope they have his eyes. Bright, blue and sparkling. You stare down at the three tests before you, all clear and unambiguously positive.

A laugh bubbles out of you, full of joy and absolutely thrilled as you think of how long you’ve been trying and waiting for this. How happy Bucky will be. How happy you are.

You hear your front door open and close which immediately makes you pick up one of the positive tests. “Bucky!” You call out in pure excitement, unwilling to wait and tell him the news any other day.

He barely has the chance to put his bag down before you’re jumping into his arms. Your legs wrap around his hips as his hands come up to grip your thighs and hold you up.

“Pretty girl.” He laughs as you pepper kisses across his face. “What’s got you so happy? I was only gone for three days!”

You pull back to look him in the eye. He’s watching you with a bemused smile which makes you giggle. He has no idea of the test in your right hand or the other two sitting in your shared bathroom.

“I’m pregnant.” You breathe out. His eyes trace over you as you bite down the smile threatening to break out on your face. You wrap an arm around his neck as you pull the hand holding the test in between the two of you. His eyes immediately snap to the test and you’re sure he can’t actually read it in this position, but you’re too excited to care.

He shakes his head in shock. “You’re pregnant?” He asks softly. There was a happy lilt to his tone that lets you know his silence isn’t anger or nerves but just him struggling to figure out if this is real.

You nod your head rapidly and can no longer hold back your smile. “Three tests. All of them say yes to there being a baby Barnes in eight or nine months.”

His smile appears slowly, but it’s beautiful and bright as he gently places you back on your feet. “Fuck.” He laughs before pulling you into a kiss.

It’s all smiles and one of the messiest kisses you’ve ever had, but definitely one of the best too. When he pulls back, he’s breathing heavily and he rests his forehead against yours. “I love you.” He whispers.

His look is full of unadulterated love and affection, a look you’re sure you’re returning tenfold. “I love you more.”

His hands move to your waist and he hoists you up again. “Not fucking possible, pretty girl.” He mumbles into your neck as he begins to press soft kisses to your skin.

10 Weeks.

Your foot is shaking anxiously on the edge of the exam table as your eyes filter around the room. You had been in this gynecologist office many times, but today you can’t help but feel anxious as you wait for your doctor. The nurse had already come in and done your pre-physical checks; Weight, blood pressure, and some questions.

Bucky leans forward and wraps his hand around your ankle gently. “Relax, pretty girl.” He’s pulled up the guest chair so it’s next to you as you two wait.

You chew on your nail nervously as you stare down at him. “What if I got your hopes up? What if it was a false positive?” You can’t help but feel like maybe you had jumped the gun in telling Bucky the day you had taken the test.

Bucky’s hand moves up your leg until it’s resting right above your knee. “Then I’ll take you home and we’ll try again. I have no problem with trying for babies with you, pretty girl.” His hand slides further up and you laugh as you push it away.

“Buck! I’m serious.” You groan. You hear footsteps outside your door and freeze before they fade away. “What if-“

“-Stop.” He says firmly. “I’m serious too. Then we try again. Maybe it’ll hurt for a while, but we'll get through it together.” He reaches up and pulls your hand away from your face before wrapping it in between both of his. “And I’m no doctor, but I’m sure three false positives is pretty rare.”

Your heads snap up as the door opens and your doctor steps in along with a nurse. She turns to you both with a bright smile as the nurse shuts the door softly.

“I hear somebody thinks they’re pregnant!” The nurse sits by the computer in the room as she comes to stand beside you.

You nod slowly. “Me.” You shake your head in embarrassment. “Obviously. I’m the one with the vagina.” You flinch, but can’t stop the words from tumbling out. “I took three tests and they all came out positive. He says false positives are pretty rare, but he’s also not a doctor or scientist. He didn’t even go to college-“ You’re rambling on out of nerves. “Sorry. That came out wrong. I love you.” You say quickly glancing at Bucky before looking back at your doctor.

Bucky laughs as she watches you with amused eyes. “He’s right though! False positives are far rarer than false negatives.” She pulls the stool towards your table and sits down next to you.

You let out a deep breath. “That’s good to know.” Bucky squeezes your hand gently in a relax, I told you.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Barnes. I’m Dr. O.” She reaches her right hand across you, Bucky glances at you nervously before holding out his left hand to meet her. She doesn’t acknowledge the vibranium hand, just turns to look at you once the handshake is over. “I was so happy when my receptionist told me what your appointment was for, I know you two have been trying for awhile now.”

“We’re just going to ask a few questions, then determine the best course of action for finding out if you're pregnant. Depending on how far along we think you are we’ll either do an ultrasound or blood test.” She explains as she leans away from you.

You nod. “Sounds good.” It’s weird to have another person in the room besides your doctor and nurse, but Bucky’s presence is welcome. His hand in yours and thumb gently rubbing circles into your skin helps relax you as Dr. O talks.

“Let’s start with when you took the tests.” She looks over to the nurse who nods, hands ready to take notes as you speak.

You nod. “Around three weeks ago?” You look over at Bucky who nods. “We were out of town for a few days visiting a friend, so I booked the first appointment available after we got back.”

“Where did you go?” She laughs when you furrow your brows at her question. “I’m sorry! I’m nosy.”

You laugh gently at that. “Oh it’s fine! We went to Louisiana! One of Buck’s best friends is down there and we just love the area.” You explain.

She nods. “What made you take the tests? Mention anything like a missed period, morning sickness, any other symptoms.” She explains.

“I originally thought my period was late. I didn’t think anything of it until we reached the second month and then I realized it wasn’t late, I had missed two periods.” You explain as you think back to what made you get the tests that day. “But what really made me get the tests was I was planning on cooking for Buck, he was getting home from a work trip that day, and when I pulled out some of the ingredients I just felt so sick. It’s my favorite dish! The smell never bothers me, nothing in it bothers me, I was just so confused until I put two and two together and thought I should buy a test just to check.” You’re a little breathless as you finish and she’s nodding along as the computer keys clack away.

“That sounds like you’re anywhere from nine to eleven weeks!” She stands up. “We can definitely try a transabdominal ultrasound. We should be able to get a clearer date and maybe even hear a heartbeat.”

“Really?” You ask softly. You hadn’t expected to come in and hear or see your baby. You weren’t even sure if there was one. “We can… We can see the baby today?”

“If your dates are correct, then yes!” She gives you an excited smile as she pulls the small machine towards your bedside. “Or we can do a blood test. It’s up to you.”

“Oh, can we try the ultrasound? I would… That would make me feel better.” You admit, squeezing Bucky’s hand tightly. “Of course.” She agrees.

Bucky pulls his hand away from its resting spot on your stomach, but doesn’t release his grip on you. You pull up your shirt with one hand as she and the nurse move around the room. “This will be cold. Try not to move around too much.”

You flinch as the gel touches your stomach. “That is cold.” You murmur to Bucky as she pulls the wand towards you. He smiles up at you and it makes your cheeks warm.

“Okay.” She hums as she moves the wand around your stomach. You wait with baited breath in hopes of hearing a heartbeat come through. Your grip on Bucky’s hand gets tighter and tighter as the seconds tick by, but he doesn’t say a word in complaint.

Then there’s a loud thumping sound and Dr. O turns to you with a bright smile. “There we go! A nice, strong heartbeat.” She turns the screen so you and Bucky can see it clearly.

You and Bucky look at each and it’s like everything has fallen into place.

Bucky Barnes had never allowed himself to dream of this life. A wife, a house of his own, a baby; Bucky Barnes had never imagined his own family.

“Oh!” Both of your heads snap around the look at the doctor. “There’s two heartbeats.” She moves the wand around again and then there’s another steady thumping sound. “Baby A and Baby B.” She moves the wand back and forth so the two of you get a clearer picture.

When you look back at Bucky his eyes are brimming with tears, but there's a smile on his face that makes your heart race. So big that his eyes crinkle and you’re positive his cheeks hurt, but it makes you smile too.

“Twins.” You whisper to him. Everything else fades into the background as you two stare at each other. He nods and pulls your hand to his lips so he can press a kiss to it. “Twins.” He whispers back.

“I’ll print out some photos for you two.” Dr. O says quietly.

And… Bucky Barnes didn’t know if he still believed in God, but he would thank Him everyday for this miracle of a life he’s been granted. He would go through hell and back again if it meant he still got this life with you.

16 Weeks

“Do you think it’s a boy and a girl? Two boys? Two girls?” Your now nursery is painted white with one forest green wall. Bucky is sitting on the floor in the middle of the room working on the matching cribs as you lean against the door jam. “Should we have waited until we were further in to start all this?”

Bucky looks up at you and notices you chewing on the skin around your nail nervously as your eyes flicker around the half finished nursery. The walls had been painted when you had been gone for the day so you could stay away from the fumes. Bucky had started the cribs first, boxes of blankets, mattress pads and other small items were piled in the corner of the room.

“I thought you wanted it to be a surprise.” He puts down the screwdriver in his hand to focus his full attention on you. “And your doctor said the first twelve weeks held the highest risk for anything happening.”

You look down at him. “I know… I do want it to be a surprise… I just want to know what you think we’ll have. I think it’s boys.” You look down at your small, but there, bump. Your doctor had informed you that twins would most likely make gaining weight more likely and quicker than a single baby. You guess you just hadn’t expected the bump to show up so soon.

You hear Bucky stand and watch as he stumbles over all the spread out pieces of the cribs. “Listen.” He tilts your chin up towards him. “I can’t promise you this will be perfect, but I can promise you I’ll be here every step of the way.”

You reluctantly nod. Logically you knew he was right, you had taken all the necessary steps and precautions your doctor had suggested. You felt good, despite the uncomfortableness of growing two humans. “I know I’m being, like, anxious or whatever. I just… I want this so bad. I don’t know if I could survive if something happened.” You admit quietly, almost ashamed at the weight this feeling had left on your shoulders.

“Pretty girl.” Bucky murmurs sadly. “If anything ever happened, I would be here every step of the way. You’ve got my heart. You’re my life.” He rubs reassuring hands up and down your arms. “And if you ever felt like you were too far gone, I’d be there to pull you back.”

You feel your eyes tear as you look up at him. “Tell me what you think they’ll be. Boys. Girls.” You wrap your arms around his waist and step forward to rest your cheek against his chest. “Please.”

He wraps his arms around you in return and presses a kiss to your forehead. “I think we’re going to have girls.” He says softly, “And they’ll be beautiful like you. I hope they are. Your eyes, your hair, your pretty smile.” Bucky presses another gentle kiss to your forehead, you hum in response and he takes that as a hint to keep talking. “And smart like you too. I just want mini yous, pretty girl. If I could live my life surrounded by my girls, I would be content.”

His soft words and the steady sound of his heartbeat in your ear pressed against his chest has you calming immediately. You take a deep breath before pulling back to look at him. “I love you, Bucky. I am so lucky that you’re my husband.”

You can feel Bucky’s laugh and it makes you smile. “Pretty girl, I’m the lucky one. I never thought I’d have this. Buying a house and building cribs and picking out baby clothes.”

“Buck-'' You try to interrupt him, but he shakes his head and you shut your mouth. Instead you smile up at him softly as he continues speaking.

“I never thought I could be loved like this.” He leans down and gently nudges his nose against yours. You close your eyes and do the same. “But I’m so happy I have it.”

You have to admit, when Bucky Barnes had come into your life with harsh stares and an intimidating presence, you had never imagined this would be the life you would have with him.

“I love you pretty girl.” He declares, voice strong and full of love, before dropping to his knees in front of you. You laugh as his hands land gently on your stomach. “And I love you, babies Barnes.”

“Babies Barnes?” You ask with a small smile. “That’s what we’re calling them now?”

Bucky looks up at you with a shining smile. “We’ll talk names later, I think Babies Barnes sounds good for now.”

You rest one of your hands on his and run your other hand through his hair as he talks quietly to your stomach. “What about the Barnes Babies?” You murmur. “Sounds better.”

20 Weeks

“Bucky.” You call from your spot on the floor in the center of the nursery. You were in the middle of folding clothes. Most of the items were matching and you had been slowly but surely separating them out and into the two separate dressers. “Bucky!” You call again, raising your voice just a little more.

There are heavy footsteps as Bucky rushes up the stairs. “What? What’s wrong?” He asks from the doorway while his eyes flicker around the room panicked. You feel a little guilty when you notice his shoulders relax at the sight of you fine on the floor. “Why are you down there?’

“I’m organizing the baby clothes.” You answer in a matter of fact tone. Bucky opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off already knowing what it’ll be. “I’m fine down here! I’m not in any more danger down here than I am sitting on the couch.” You look around the almost finished nursery. “You’ll just have to help me up later.” You look back up at him a little embarrassed.

Bucky comes and kneels down beside you. You let out a relieved sigh as he runs his knuckle against your cheek gently. “What did you need, pretty girl?’ He asks with a knowing smile.

“I’m starving.” You throw your head back in an overdramatic groan. “I would kill for some oreos…” You think for a moment. “Do we still have the kraft macaroni and cheese?”

Bucky scrunches his nose up in disgust, but nods. “Please don’t ask me to mix those together.”

“I wasn’t!” You slap a hand against his chest. It makes him shake a little in his kneeling position, but he stays upright. “I want them separately. But I do want both. Please, Buck? You always make the macaroni and cheese so perfectly! I always mess it up.” You put on your best puppy dog eyes and pout your lips.

He throws his head back in a laugh. “You don’t need to do all that, pretty girl.” He snorts. He kisses your cheek before standing up. “I would do anything you asked me to.”

“Even bring me a glass or cherry Dr. Pepper with it?” You weren’t a huge soda person normally, but you had tried a sip of the drink when you and Bucky had gone out to dinner and it had become one of your biggest cravings.

“Especially that.” He grins at you before spinning on his heel to retreat back downstairs. “Thank you!” You call out. “Call me if you need me!” He yells back and you smile to yourself. You place a hand on your stomach and look down.

“That was your daddy.” You say softly. You rub gentle circles over your loose t-shirt. “He loves you two so much already. We love you two so much. We just can’t wait for you to get here.” You admit. Talking to your stomach has become a habit of yours. Your doctor had explained babies will usually respond to noise when they can start hearing and while she had assured you kicking with twins may take a little longer, you were desperate to feel them move around.

You glance at the door before looking back down. “He’s been so much help. I’d read horror stories about husbands who are never home or who don’t take up cooking and cleaning. But your daddy just… does it all for me.” Your voice has taken on a tone of pure love as you talk to your babies about Bucky. “He built your cribs. Rubs my feet. Cooks me disgusting children’s food.” You giggle quietly. “I’m so happy I get to build you two a home full of love and-” You jump when you feel a gentle kick against your hand. “No way.” You whisper.

“Bucky!” You yell out shakily. “Bucky! Bucky! Bucky!” You don’t think of the panic you could be making him feel as you stare down at your stomach with happy tears in your eyes. Bucky’s by your side in an instant, his hand coming to rest over yours and his eyes observing your face in a frenzied panic.

“What’s wrong? What hurts?” He asks anxiously. You shake your head and move his hand so it’s resting underneath your own instead of on top. “What? Christ, pretty girl! Is every-”

“Just talk to them.” You say quietly. “About anything.” Your urge.

Bucky looks at you questioningly, but settles next to you when you nod. “Okay…” He says quietly. “Um,” he glances at you, “I’m so excited for you two to be here.” He starts a little nervously. You squeeze his hand in reassurance. “I never thought I would have my own baby, let alone twins, with such a knockout.” He laughs when you roll your eyes. “I never thought I could love anybody this much, then I met your mom. Then she told me she was gonna have you guys and I… I knew that I would do anything if it meant I got to keep all this love in my li-” He cuts himself off and looks at you with wide eyes.

“Did you feel it?” You ask softly. Bucky moves his hand over a little and lets out a wet laugh. “That’s... That’s fucking amazing.” He presses a kiss to your lips. “You’re fucking amazing.”

The two of you can’t stop staring at each, certainly looking like some smiling fools, until Bucky’s eyes widen and he yanks himself away. “You’re macaroni and cheese!” He yells as he stumbles out of the room leaving you doubling over in laughter.

26 Weeks

“When she said twins,” You pause as you take a deep breath, “I didn’t think she meant everything would be so much worse.” Bucky laughs as you settle on the couch next to him. He holds his arms up as he waits for you to rest your feet in his lap.

He immediately begins to rub your feet as you turn the movie on. “What hurts?” He asks softly. His eyes trail over you like he expects a wound, something easily fixable, so he could better help you.

You give him a gentle smile. “My feet. My back. I’m just uncomfortable, Buck.” You explain. You knew he felt bad that there wasn’t much he could do besides sit next to you and rub your feet and legs. “I don’t think I realized how fast things move when it’s two babies growing inside you instead of just one.”

“I wish I could do more.” He says quietly as he massages your left foot. His vibranium hand is cool against your skin and offers some relief from the heat you felt was taking over. You know he’s unsure of what to say or do to help and that he didn’t want to say the wrong thing, but, “All I need is this, Buck.” You poke his thigh with your right foot.

When he looks over at you questioningly, you smile. “I’m gonna be totally honest with you here, Bucky. There’s not much you can do to help me now, or the next few months, except keep rubbing my feet, helping around the house and keep calling me pretty girl.”

He pinches your ankle. “For years you’ve told me you didn’t like that nickname.” There’s no malice or annoyance in his voice. Bucky knows as well as you do that although you may roll your eyes or laugh when he calls you that, you hate when he calls you anything else.

Especially now. “Makes me feel good.” You shrug as nonchalantly as you can. “I’m gaining weight like crazy. I’m swollen and cranky, it’s nice to know you still think I’m your pretty girl.” You admit shyly.

“I always think you’re pretty, my love.” You feel your neck heat at his words and his hand coming to rest on your thigh. “But… fuck… I don’t know if there’s anything as beautiful as watching you grow our children. I’m in awe of you everyday, pretty girl.” His eyes are lit up with passion. You laugh as he moves towards you. “I am so in love with you, it’s crazy. I just... I can barely keep my hands to myself half the time.”

You cup his jaw with your hand and your nails lightly scratching at his beard. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Bucky Barnes.” You murmur as he leans in towards you. “Cause I’ll make you follow through.”

He groans before pressing a kiss to your lips. “Come on, pretty girl. Come to bed. I think I know a way to make you feel a little better.” He whispers against your lips. You nod with an excited giggle as he stands and holds a hand out to you.

32 Weeks

“I appreciate you guys coming out to see us.” You press a kiss to Sam’s cheek before moving to hug Wanda who was trailing into your house behind him. “We didn’t want a huge baby shower, but we did want to see some of our closest friends and it means so much you all came out!” You gush.

Wanda presses a kiss to your cheek before standing back and looking at you excitedly. “Oh, you look beautiful.” She says kindly, her eyes trailing over your now much larger bump. “Twins.” She murmurs wistfully as your hands grip hers tightly.

“Oh, Wanda…” You trail off, suddenly feeling guilty for your pushful invitation to your closest friends. She shakes her hand with a bright smile. “None of that! I’m so excited for you and Bucky. I’ve never met two more deserving people.” She presses another kiss to your cheek as she moves past you. “Now where is your husband?”

“In the backyard!” You laugh. “He’s working on grilling. We have drinks and snacks out there!” You push her and Sam towards the sliding door in your kitchen. Steve slips through your front door next, a bright smile on his face when he realizes it’s you who’s greeting him.

“You look lovely.” He says kindly as he leans down to press a kiss to your head. “Bucky has spent hours on the phone talking about how beautiful you look, but still didn’t do you justice.”

“You charmer!” You squeeze his arm as you laugh. “He’s outside. I’ll give you fifty bucks if you say something just as sweet to him.” Steve shakes his head with an ill-suppressed smile. “Come on! I’ll add an extra twenty if you kiss him too.” You plead. You and Bucky had been so busy with preparations, neither of you had seen your friends in a long time. You were in desperate need of a laugh with everyone.

Steve shakes his head, but he turns to you and winks when he goes to open the sliding door, which makes you smile largely.

You greet a few more friends; Rhodey who comes with a gentle smile and gifts from Pepper despite your warning against them. He has a nervous Peter Parker in tow, who adored you but was still terrified of Bucky despite it having been years since their fight.

“For you.” He smiles sweetly. He’s gotten more handsome as he’s gotten older, more confident too, but he still turns red when you press a kiss to his cheek as you thank him for the small box he has handed over. You laugh as he rushes after Rhodey, face down in an attempt to hide the blush.

You were unsure when the Avengers had become your family too. Bucky had brought you around eight months into your relationship and they had taken you in easily. Bucky says your light filled a void after all the darkness they had suffered. You shook him off, but the words always made your heart soar. If you were even just a small piece of their healing, you were happy.

An arm wraps around your waist and you smile when you smell Bucky’s cologne. “Funny joke with Steve, pretty girl.” He whispers against the shell of your ear.

“I thought so.” You shiver. “Did he kiss you too? Please tell me he did!” You turn and look up at him with pleading eyes. Bucky laughs before reluctantly nodding. “That’s incredible.” You move away from your spot in the entrance and hold onto Bucky’s arm as he leads you towards the backyard. “Give him seventy dollars sometime today, please.”

“What?” Bucky stops in his tracks, making you freeze too. “For what?”

You look up at him innocently. “For making your severely pregnant wife laugh.” Bucky slides the door open with a shake of his head and gestures for you to go out first. You smile gratefully and step out.

Your friends are spread out in the small yard. Sam has taken over the grill, while Steve is deep in conversation with Rhodey and Wanda. Peter chatters away as Sam nods along his eyes glazed over.

“Thank you for planning this.” You slip your hand into the crook of Bucky’s elbow as the two of you make your way into the group. “I didn’t realize how much I missed everyone with how busy we’ve been.”

“Anything for you, pretty girl.” He says softly. “Everyone loves you, it wasn’t hard to convince them to make the trip to come see you.”

“You sure know how to make a girl feel special.” You tease. Bucky laughs and presses a kiss to your cheek before going to join Sam at the grill. You meet Steve, Wanda and Rhodey with a smile.

“We were just talking about names.” Steve quickly stands up from the chair he had been lounging in. You shake your head with narrowed eyes. “Sit down.” He orders, it’s not harsh, but he’s taken on a completely different tone of voice that makes you giggle. You glance at Wanda with comical, wide eyes before taking the seat.

“I like it when you use your Captain's voice.” You glance at Wanda in thanks when she hands over a glass of water. “I never got to hear it. We met after you retired!” Steve’s cheeks turn a bright shade of red as Rhodey and Wanda laugh. “Anyways, tell me about the names!”

Wanda starts. “Bucky told us you two wanted to find out the gender when you give birth, so we each came up with two names for each of the three scenarios. I was given the one girl, one boy scenario.” She explains quickly her hand waving around in front of her excitedly.

“And what did you come up with?” You ask in amusement, but also with a little curiosity. You and Bucky had briefly discussed names, both floating around ideas when they appeared, but nothing had been chosen yet. Maybe one of your friends would have a good name idea.

Wanda claps. “I chose Oliver George Barnes if it’s a boy! Oh, I think Oliver is such a lovely name. And then the baby has Bucky’s dad’s name too. A little bit of old and new.” She explains and you nod along. “And for a girl, Elena Rebecca Barnes.”

You furrow your brows at her. “How do you know so much about Buck’s family’s names?” A light blush colors her cheeks. “I may have visited the Bucky Barnes page on the Smithsonian website in preparation.” She admits.

“Okay Rhodey, hit me!” You turn so you can look at him. He sits up a little straighter. “For two girls. Baby girl number one, Olivia Rose Barnes” You scrunch your nose up at the middle name. “And for girl number two, Eloise Ann Barnes.” Your eyes widen at the suggestion. You had expected him to just repeat your name back to you.

“I… I actually kind of like Eloise.” You admit after a moment. “Little El.” One of your hands comes to rest on your stomach. You look up at Steve with a smile. “Hit me with the two boys' names, Rogers.”

Steve glances over at Bucky and Sam before stepping towards you conspiratorially. “Samuel James Barnes and Theodore George Barnes.” You look over at Bucky and your eyes meet his. You smile softly when he waves you over.

“Those are lovely, Steve.” You hold your hand out for him and he helps you stand. “I… I will tell Buck about all of these names. I love them all.” You say gratefully before slowly making your way towards the grill.

Bucky’s arm wraps around your waist as soon as you’re beside him. “What are you four whispering about over there, pretty girl?” He asks quietly as Sam and Peter begin to bring the plates of food over to the table Bucky had set up earlier.

You glance back at Sam to make sure he’s out of hearing distance. “Baby names! Buck, Steve came up with Samuel James Barnes. I just love it.” Bucky’s already shaking his head with a frown. “What?” You ask.

“I’m not naming our son after me and Sam.” He glances back at the group who has come together at the table. Wanda and Steve wave you two over and you hold up a finger in response before looking back at Bucky. “What were the girls names?” He asks.

You shrug. “Olivia Rose, Eloise Ann, and Elena Rebecca.” None of the names hit a particular chord with you, but you could admit they were all very pretty. “I like Eleanor, I think.” You admit as Bucky mulls the names over.

“That’s a pretty name.” He says softly. “Eleanor Rebecca Barnes.” He adds on and a smile breaks out on your face. You lean up and he meets you halfway in a gentle kiss. When you pull back he rests his forehead against yours.

“Did we just pick a baby name?” You whisper in shock. Bucky’s eyes crinkle as he smiles excitedly. “I think we did, pretty girl.”

38 Weeks

At first you think they’re just kicking. They’d been doing it more and more the further along you got. You groan and shift around in bed as quietly as possible trying not to wake Bucky.

You take a few deep breaths as you try to drift off into sleep, but a shooting pain hits you and your arm whips out and your hand grips Bucky’s shirt.

You gasp. “Bucky.” You pull at his shirt in an attempt to wake him. You whine in pain and begin to pull harder. “Bucky!” You say a little louder.

You feel him begin to wake under your palm. “What’s up, pretty girl?” He mumbles into his pillow, still not looking over at you.

The pain rips through you again and this time you yank at his shirt violently. “James Buchanan Barnes if you don’t get the fuck up, I will murder you.”

That has him turning to look at you with wide eyes. His eyes scan over you and pause on the hand sitting on your stomach before they trail up to your face scrunched up in pain.

“Oh shit.” He stumbles out of the bed and comes around to your side. You turn to look up at him with pleading eyes and notice the pure panic in his. “Um- Okay.” He stands up straight and takes a few deep breaths.

Another contraction hits. “Take your time.” You grit out as you try to breathe through it. “Not like I’m having a fucking baby here.”

“Shut up.” He laughs as he leans down to gently grip your arm. “Did your water break?” He asks as he helps your stand.

You look down at the mattress then the floor before shaking your head. “Not yet, but these really hurt I-“

“Don’t have to explain yourself to me, pretty girl.” He helps you around the room and into the bathroom and helps you sit on top of the toilet lid. “You don’t have pants on, what should I grab for you to wear?”

You glance down at your bare thighs, you hadn’t really realized. “A dress! Just grab a dress, I can slip into it.” You murmur as you rest your forehead against the tiled wall next to you.

Bucky disappears and you count to yourself as you breathe through your pain. “I’m okay. I’m okay.” You murmur. They were early, two weeks early, but Dr. O had warned you that multiples liked to make surprise appearances.

“A dress.” Bucky stands in front of you with one of your maternity sun dresses. He helps you stand again and you take it from his hands.

“Go put on pants, I can get the dress on myself.” Bucky looks hesitant at the suggestion even though all he’s got on is a t-shirt and boxers. “Buck. Please. The sooner we’re both ready the sooner we can go.”

He nods and sprints out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. You slide the t-shirt you had fallen asleep in off and pull the dress over your body. You let out a sigh of relief at the fact that Bucky had chosen one of the stretchy cotton dresses and not one of your nicer maternity ones. You brush your teeth quickly and splash some water on your face.

“Bucky.” You cry out when you feel the rush of water between your legs.

“Let’s go.” Bucky appears in the doorway with sweatpants and his jacket pulled haphazardly over his shirt. He freezes when he notices your problem. He doesn’t say anything, just disappears then reappears with clean underwear for you. He helps you out of the bathroom and into the bedroom again then helps you change again. “Let’s go.” He says softly with a gentle kiss to your temple.

It’s all a blur from there. Bucky’s grabbing your go bag, leading you to the car and driving you to the hospital.

“She’s having our babies.” Bucky blurts out to the receptionist once the two of you reach the neonatal ward. She smiles pacifingly at him before looking at you with concern. “Sit her down, sir.” She orders and Bucky helps you sit in one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs.

“She should be in a bed right?” Bucky asks worriedly looking back and forth between you and her.

“One of the nurses is going to bring a wheel cheer so we can bring her to her room.” She explains kindly. “I just need your names and your doctor’s name.”

You block Bucky’s voice out as another contraction hits. “Fuck, fuck fuck.” You cry. “B - A - R - N -E-S.” Bucky glances back at you at the sound of your cry. “Her doctor is Dr. O.” The woman hums as her fingers fly across the keyboard.

There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder that makes you look up. “I’m Natalie.” The woman smiles kindly. “I’m gonna bring you to your room, okay?”

You nod slowly with tears in your eyes. You’re tired and uncomfortable and the pain keeps getting worse and worse. “Let’s get you up, mama.” She helps you stand slowly and guides you to the wheelchair waiting by the doors.

You glance back at Bucky, who’s still talking with the receptionist and scribbling answers on the clipboard she had slid over to him. “My husband. I need Bucky. I-“

“They’ll bring him back as soon as he’s done with the paperwork.” She rubs your shoulder calmingly. “I promise all we’re gonna do is get you in bed.”

You take a deep breath as she pushes you down the hall and away from Bucky. “I can’t do this without him.” You’re breathing heavily as the contractions hit you. “I need him. Please. Can’t he do paperwork later? It’s not like I can leave!” You cry out.

She gently moves you from the wheelchair to the hospital bed. “We’ll wait until your husband, Bucky, right?” She asks as she pushes you back so you’re laying down. You give her a teary eyed nod. “We’ll wait until Bucky is here to help change you into your gown.” She murmurs reassuringly.

There’s a knock on the door and then Bucky is rushing in with another nurse trailing after him. “I’m pretty sure half the answers on that paperwork are illegible but…” The nurse trails off with an amused smile.

“Hey, pretty girl.” Bucky pushes back the stray hairs that are sticking to your sweaty forehead before giving you a kiss. “I’m here. What do you need?”

“It’s up to you, mama.” Natalie places the hospital gown on the edge of your bed. “If you want us or your husband to help you into the gown.” She gives you a knowing smile.

“Can we…” You take a deep breath. “Can we have a moment?” They nod and leave the room. You look up at Bucky with teary eyes. “I don’t think I can do this, Buck.” You admit.

He helps you sit up while shaking his head. “Yes you can, pretty girl.” He murmurs reassuringly. He lifts your dress so it scrunches up at your hips and waits until you raise your arms so he can take it off completely. He picks the pink gown up and slides it over your held out arms.

“How do you know that?” You wipe hastily at the tears streaming down your face as Bucky moves around the tie the gown in the back. He helps you lay back down before slipping his shoes off and crawling in beside you.

You moan in relief when he starts rubbing gentle circles over your stomach and as his warmth envelopes you. Bucky presses gentle kisses to your neck and jaw. “I know because you are the strongest woman I know.” He whispers. “You have been growing these humans in your uterus for almost nine months. And you’ve done it without flinching. This isn’t gonna be what takes you out, pretty girl.”

There’s a gentle knock on the door and your nurse comes back in with a soft smile, followed by Dr. O and two more people. “Who’s ready to have some babies?” Dr. O asks with a bright smile.

You look up at Bucky, who can’t do anything but stare at you in awe, then nod. “We are.”

Twelve and a Half Hours Later

“I don’t think I could be any more in love with you.” Bucky declares as the nurses dance about the room, cleaning your crying babies up. “Shut up.” You murmur tiredly. “I wanna see my babies.” They’ve been checking and cleaning for what felt like forever.

“Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Barnes.” The two nurses come over with little bundles in their arms. “You have two healthy babies, a boy and a girl.” You look up at Bucky with bright eyes as the nurse hands him the blue bundle.

Your eyes move away as the pink bundle is gently handed over to you. “Hello.” You whisper softly at the fidgeting baby. You can’t stop the tears from streaming down your cheeks as you down at your baby girl. Completely healthy and absolutely beautiful. “Eleanor Rebecca Barnes.” You murmur, running a gentle finger over her cheek.

“Pretty girl.” Bucky’s voice is wet and you look up to see tears on his cheeks too. You scoot over and make room for him to sit beside you again for the first time in hours. He sits as slowly as he can and then looks over at the baby in your arms as you glance at the baby in his. “Hello, Eleanor.” Bucky whispers to the little girl.

There’s a knock at the door that has the two of you snapping your heads up. You see the balloons first and then Steve and Sam behind them.

“Boys.” You whisper happily. Bucky nods them into the room. They come to stand in front of your bed as quietly as they can. “Meet Eleanor Rebecca Barnes and,” you and Bucky glance at each other with soft smiles, “and Steven Samuel Barnes.” He finishes for you.

Their eyes snap to you two in shock. “What?” Sam asks after a moment of silence. “You… You said you would never name a baby after me.” He’s getting choked up as he stares at Bucky in betrayal.

“Yeah, well.” Bucky shakes his head. “You’re uh… You’re one of my best friends.” He looks over at Steve. “You’re both some of my best friends. And uh… I wouldn’t.” He sniffles and you lean your head in his shoulder in an attempt to give him comfort.

He presses a kiss to your hair before he looks back at the boys. “I wouldn’t have all this if you two hadn’t stuck your necks out on the line for me. If you two hadn’t kept looking for me.”

“Buck, you built this life all on your own.” Steve says gently.

Bucky shakes his head fondly. “I know that, punk. I got the girl and the house and the babies all on my own. But I wouldn’t have even had the chance without you two so…” He trails off before looking back down at the babies you two held in your arms.

“Can I take a picture?” Sam asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket. You two nod excitedly and look up at the camera with tired but thrilled smiles. “Beautiful family, Buck. You two should be proud.”

“Oh, Steve, grab a nurse or someone in the hallway please!” You plead. “I want a picture of all of us!” He obliges without a fight. although you’re sure right now nobody would pick a fight or say no to you.

One of your nurses comes back in with him. “Okay! Just a couple pictures then I gotta kick you two out. Mama needs her rest.”

You all nod in acceptance as Steve and Sam come to stand on either side of you and Bucky. “One...Two...Three!” She snaps the picture and turns the phone around to show you.

Your heart all but jumps out of your chest at how sweet it looks. “I love it. Thank you.” She hands the phone back to Sam and ushers the two men out. Sam calling over his shoulder, “We’ll come back tomorrow!”

You and Bucky laugh. “My heart is so full right now.” You whisper.

“I love you, pretty girl.” Bucky whispers in response. “I love our family.” You can’t do anything but nod. “I love you too. I love our family.”

The two of you sit in silence as you bask in the glow of your family.

》* 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 。* 。° 。* 。 • ˚《

notes // i really enjoyed writing this. it’s so happy & made me so happy. thank you to the anon who requested it! i really hope you all enjoyed this because it’s probably one of my favorite pieces now.

if you did enjoy it, replies & reblogs are greatly appreciated 💞

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes onshot #bucky barnes one shot

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eponymous-rose · 3 years

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Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E129 (March 16, 2021)

Tonight’s guests are Matt Mercer and Taliesin Jaffe!

Matt, on DMing Luc’s Revivify: “That was weird. It’s one thing when it happens because of player action and circumstances and the choices they make. When it’s entirely on me, unintentional, and just realizing different chess pieces you’ve set up, that’s rough.” It was especially rough since this was a child NPC related to a PC. “I was hoping somebody had a spell slot left.” He kept in mind that there are two clerics in the room and that they could resurrect the next day even if the Revivify went poorly. “A good chance, since it’s his first time. Okay, okay, okay, okay, I think we’ll be okay, we’ll see how this goes. It was really stressful in the moment! I did not set out to have that happen, but when I realized what was going to happen, I tried to see it through.” He wouldn’t have prevented a chance to bring him back. “There may have been an offshoot short-run series of games to find a way to bring him back. I would have found some way to correct the circumstance so the players could feel good about moving forward with the story and there was no undue punishment beyond their control.”

Taliesin on Cad’s response: “This is a big thing if you’re a cleric. It was very much coming in like an EMT. Everything should be fine... hopefully. Just focused in and got it done. The minute things started to go south it was like, okay, that’s the next problem.”

On Yeza’s feelings: “It is a very complicated situation. I think he, much like how Veth is trying to figure out what it is that she wants, I think he’s trying to help her find that while also figuring it out for himself. I think Yeza’s also noticing that because Veth’s the more active of the two of them she also takes the weight of the responsibility and the blame for things when they go wrong, unnecessarily. Especially when he himself acknowledges that he’s partially at fault for even dragging everyone in with the Conclave. As much as he’s appreciative for them coming back for him, there’s a lot of back and forth. He’s filled with a lot of regret, too, but he’s very much trying to convince Veth that it’s a burden that she doesn’t have to keep to herself, that they can share it and work through it together.” Matt mentions that, as an actor, he really loves exploring interactions between characters first and foremost. “Especially when you don’t know where it’s going to go.” He also praises Sam as a scene partner - “I really cherish that.”

How does Caduceus feel about Revivify and Speak with Dead? “Speak with Dead is an interesting middle ground, because he knows that it’s not actually speaking with the dead. It’s really just-- it’s almost medical, really. This is just reactivating a brain at a certain point. It’s practically just a muscle twitch at this point. That doesn’t really prod him in that direction. Revivify is interesting, because it had never really come up. At first I thought of it as bending the rules, but it’s not bending the rules. You knock over a plant, you replant it, you don’t stare at it and go ‘Well, that’s over.’ This is just doing the work. No, we can bring this thing back to health. This is all part of the circle of life, that sometimes we can save something. Especially given the stress that he’s put himself through over the past year of being with these people. He’s started to think of himself a bit as a battlefield medic, and triage is just part of the deal, and it’s completely acceptable.”

Did Trent really just want to talk? “Yeah, that circumstance, as it came together, Trent would never have arrived if there wasn’t an indication that there was some kind of infiltration or attack. Even beyond that, it was Jester breaking the concentration on her charm on that one guard when she created her duplicate.” The guards’ job is to inform a member of the Cerberus Assembly, and Trent lived the closest. “He didn’t know who it was, didn’t have any expectation necessarily. The minute he saw the illusion, he knew a powerful magic user was involved.” Seeing Caleb was an unexpected surprise. “I don’t think he wanted to throw down necessarily. He was more interested in figuring out exactly what the nature of this was.” Matt had multiple battlemaps that didn’t get used. “They managed to cleverly out-maneuver him in his surprise of seeing them.” The Nein rocketed up his priority list after that very quickly. Taliesin: “We’re so fucked.”

On Cad being “Uncle Caduceus” to Luc: “It’s the thing he misses most about home, is being a juvenile shit. It’s nice to be able to express that part of him again, as opposed to the serious, life-threatening, constant intensity. I’m very at home just being a little difficult.”

Cosplay of the Week: an amazing Beau! (_rumor_king, photography by kourtyardproductions on Instagram)

On Marion: “Like a lot of people in this whole narrative from the beginning, getting swept up in things larger than her and trying to adapt. This is a circumstance she’s avoided for a long time. She’s having a rough time in some ways, but simultaneously, she’s enduring. Like a mother would. She’s adapting, she’s making it work. Without much of a choice, you just kind of do the best you can and lean on the people around you to help you where they can. Luckily she has a daughter there. She’s probably surprising herself at how well she’s doing given the circumstances.” Matt talks about how weird it is to feel proud of character he’s created. “Of the many things Marion is incredible at, she’s a studier of the human condition. She’s seen and heard the stories of so many. That gives her a very special perspective. She can see elements of that fractured individual within Caleb, and knowing the good that he’s brought to his friends, and knowing he’s possibly saved her life from bad circumstances, she couldn’t not speak up. She very easily falls into that role of maternal comforter, because it’s one of the many things she’s really good at, she enjoys it, and she can see well when people need it.” He’s been enjoying having Marion along for this (despite the difficult circumstances) because he was always a little sad that they only got to see her for short periods of time.

On the Blooming Grove’s safety: “He’s afraid that it’s a premonition. He’s not pinned it down, but he’s happy to let his imagination wander. He at the very least feels like there’s a reason he’s having these thoughts, and that there’s a reason to go there. He’s a big believer that these things don’t just happen. He’s more likely to think that there’s a good reason to go versus a danger to go. He’s had a couple of ominous warnings lately, and he’s not used to them and not a fan. He’s more likely to read something like that as, there is something there waiting for you that you have to discover. There is something that is going to be helpful to you, even if it hurts.”

On Astrid: “While maybe not as readable in overall personality as Trent is, I still want to be careful to not discuss things that are still being discussed within the game and tossed around as possibilities. Astrid is another complicated character, as anyone would be who’s been through the life she has. I can’t say too much. I can say she’s definitely legitimately happy to see Bren/Caleb after all this time.” His reemergence definitely caught her off guard. “We’ll have to see where it goes from there.”

On Cad’s successful Divine Intervention: “He’s definitely hit the ‘on a mission from god’ stage. He’s been that way for the entire campaign of, this, this is what I’ve been waiting for. Even when it sucks a lot, it’s been nice that those things have popped up to remind him, no, no, you’re doing it right, everything’s good. Probably not going to survive the next week, but you’re doing good! Not quite 1 in a 100 chance, but I forget so often to make that roll, and it’s such a great roleplaying roll. I don’t know how at level 20 you could deal with the fact that you can do that every day.”

On Zeenoth getting his comeuppance: the kidnapping was a concept Marisha brought up for Beau’s backstory, and Matt went with it even though it was opposed to the Cobalt Soul’s philosophy because he knew rooting it out would make for an interesting story. “I felt it was an important beat to bring to her, because it was something that she was wronged by. And to show that there are still some good people out there who are trying to make things right.” After the tentative peace, dealing with this became Dairon’s next focus. “I was glad we finally got to it. So many people don’t have the opportunity in their lives to get that sort of justice and vindication, so if I can bring elements of that justice into our world, even for our own hope, I’m going to do that. Especially for my wife’s character, especially for a character that deserves that.” Taliesin points out that if it had come too early, Beau wouldn’t have believed it.

Cad’s thoughts on the Tomb Taker betrayal? “He knew it was gonna come at some point. There was no way that was gonna last. He was hoping it was gonna last a little longer. He was really hoping they had a vested interest in getting them all the way to the end. Nope, this is apparently as far as we go, and he was not prepared for that.” He was expecting the potential for de-escalation. “Caduceus is the only character in there that doesn’t have a history with Lucien. I think he sees him a little more clearly than everybody else does. They’re all looking for this person that Clay, at least, is of the opinion that he’s just not there. This is a very manipulative, very dangerous infernal human. Just smarter than all of them. Really aware that there is no calculating what the hell is going to happen. Conversation is the only way you can deal with someone like that.”

Fan Art of the Week: An amazing Caleb closeup! (rynn_birb on Twitter)

Taliesin on Lucien: “I’m excited he’s the one that’s going to kill us all. Poetic that this is how the game ends.” Matt was delighted when Taliesin handed him carte blanche to do what he wanted with Molly’s past. “I was like ‘shit... oh, wait!’ The character of Lucien was always intended to be an antagonist so that it would have been Molly being chased by the person who wanted their body back. But then it happened that he got his body back.” Taliesin: “He’s so much worse than I ever hoped.”

Matt, on the Holy Avenger: “I hadn’t thought to initially even give that sword.” The good roll was the only reason Kima handed that over. “Well, sure, you get the sword. It was very reactionary, it wasn’t my intent originally. I was like, well, I mean, there’s two avenues she can take with this.” Multiclass into Paladin, or lean into the fact that her subclass is essentially a barbarian paladin. “This really works out in a uniquely beautiful way. Let me see if I can lay out a path for her to earn it.”

On Cad’s attempt at lying blowing up in his face: “He was like that kid that had a really bad day in high school and was like, you know what? I’m going to let loose. This is it. I’m gonna dye a streak in my hair. And then tries to give himself a haircut and ends up with half bangs. Well, okay, obviously I’m not that person. I was feeling a little distraught and I didn’t handle it well. Maybe I’m going dark... no, I’m not going dark. Nope.” Matt mentions how much he relates to Caduceus.

Matt, on the Eyes: “What can I tell you? I’m enjoying the hell out of it. The moment they began to really push to read that book, I was like, okay, this is on you. I’m excited for the point in the narrative where the march continues back to Eiselcross. I am almost impatient - not really - because we’re on the cusp of getting to more of the meat. There’s so much to learn, so much to see, so much to explore. I love instilling my players with absolute terror.”

Thoughts on Jester’s Tarot reading? Taliesin cackles. “Molly made the cards, so. Did it to himself, he did, he did.” Matt: “Once again, another example of things working out unexpectedly and too perfectly for an improvised moment. Fuck.” Taliesin: “Bless the wisdom of chaos.” Matt: “I love that even at this point in the campaign, Molly continues to fuck with people. I’m just so proud. That deeply shook Lucien, for reasons.” Taliesin: “It’s the everlasting gobstopper smoke bomb.”

#critical role #critical role spoilers #talks machina #talks machina spoilers #long text post

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eureka-its-zico · 3 years

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Irrevocably Yours

Request: hey! can i request a scenario of jungkook being a rich kid who has ome of his legs is leg failure , basically can't walk without a cane , And he falls in love with a normal girl , and they end up running away , happy ending plz , also if u can , LIT IT Up with smut ' thank u ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

A/N: So. This request was sent to me a long ass time ago. I mean a LONG time ago, and I spent so much time working on it...it became too long. So I broke it up in half. Just to see if anyone actually becomes interested in how this ends. Just to see if anyone still reads anything I write. So if you end up enjoying this, please let me know and I’ll post the last of this. I have so many things buried inside my google docs that need to be set free from hibernation.

Also, I’m sorry if this isn’t any good. I’ve rewritten this a thousand times trying to fix it, and I’ve done all I can for now. I hope someone out there enjoyed this craziness. And to the original person who asked for this, if you ever see this, I’m sorry it took so long. P.s. I also took creative liberties and changed it up a little. Much love, Jenn

Jungkook x Reader

Word count: 13,756 (yeah I know, it was longer before I halved it. Sorry!)

Genre: fluffy/Smutty(later)/First Love drama sorts mess

A part of you would always remember the first day you’d met Jeon Jungkook. His presence standing in the doorway to the classroom held every single one of your classmate's attention along with yours. Jungkook silently demanded to be noticed, even though in a way he wanted no one to notice him at all. The classroom felt louder than usual, or maybe that was just how you recalled it. Maybe it's what caused the ringing in your ears when the room was swallowed up in silence. The sound of his cane hitting the stained linoleum; ticking like a time bomb with every step.

At first you couldn't see why he necessarily needed it. Jungkook was a master of hiding things. Even pain. It wasn’t until he’d reached the teachers desk, his hip moving to rest against it to ease the extra strain off his good leg, that the stories of his accident became true. Not one of you were willing to look too long at the challenge in his face. Defiance turning his soft features bitter as he glanced out across the room. Jungkook wanted to appear strong; to dare anyone to mutter even a word that he wasn’t. That he wasn’t the same person he was before the accident.

He must have been able to fool your home room teacher into forgetting. His eagerness to introduce Jungkook only caused him to accidentally come too close to his legs in passing. The teachers’ waist moved and harmlessly bump against Jungkook’s bad leg. A small movement that was enough to change Jungkook’s entire demeanor for just a second.

The whole room collectively took a breath; waiting for him to scream out in pain. To turn savage and yell or curse at the stupidity of the teacher. Jungkook did none of it. He continued to look out into the room with his chin held high.

You could see, however, through the crinkle by his eyes and how heavily he now leaned on his cane that it’s caused him a great deal of pain. A brief moment in showing what he tried to hide and if you weren’t staring so hard at him, you were sure you would’ve missed it.

An infamous legend among other schools as his face showed up on Sports articles that featured proud features of parents beaming excitedly at cameras. Taekwondo and track metal’s around his neck by the dozens. Grades to match the intensity of his athletic drive with a rumor that if he tried something for the first time, Jungkook would still be phenomenal at whatever it was.

Even without ever actually meeting him - everyone in that classroom knew who he was. Jeon Jungkook was a hard man not to hear about.

In the beginning of the year there’d been a different headline for him, however. He’d been the passenger in a friend's car that was struck by a drunk driver. The ferocity of the impact leaving the car looking like a bow. Jungkook lost a friend that night, and part of the mobility in his left leg. The driver himself died instantly and you weren't sure if that was justice enough for the two boys who’d lost so much in a matter of three seconds.

And with so much, yet so little known about him you found yourself unable to join the others in measuring up the boy in front of you.

Jungkook was taller than you thought he would be, or maybe you’d silently been hoping the universe wouldn’t be so cruel to give someone talent and every single attractive feature known to man. He’d been played up like he was a god among the rest of you feeble mortals. You figure’d girls were overacting, I mean it happens. Imagining after listening to all their swooning, you’d somehow shockingly find out he was nothing more than your average - ordinary - boy.

Jungkook was anything but ordinary.

His lean frame still retained years of training that wasn't so easily hidden, even under the layers of the school uniform. You could see the care he still placed on his outward appearance. The rising star who was still handsome, even underneath all his brooding. His school uniform strained against tight muscles in his arms and, worse, was his legs. Your cheeks heating into an embarrassed blush as his eyes landed on what seemed like your desk. It was silly to think he’d caught you gawking. Everyone was gawking at him, but even a millisecond of his gaze made your cheeks light up with embarrassment at the idea of being caught.

There was gossip of him not wanting to go back to his old school; his old life. You didn't really blame him. Why be stuck in a place where there were millions of memories of a time you had with a close friend? Of having the ability to walk down the halls without everyone looking at you like you were damaged goods.

“Everyone pay attention!” Mr. Choi shouted.

It all seemed unnecessary. Your attention was already on him whether he wanted it or not.

“I’d like to welcome our transfer student, Jeon Jungkook. I expect you all to be on your best behavior.”

“I don't need you to defend me,” he snapped.

He started moving his way down the aisle towards the only empty seat in the room: the one next to you.

You quickly turned away from him and started cleaning up your space. Jungkook got to the desk faster than you thought and dropped his backpack down on top of the desk. His long body slumped down into the seat, placing his cane next to the window seal.

“We’re going to continue with our previous lecture from yesterday. You can share with Y/N until you get your own books.”

You flipped to chapter eighteen with your many notes scattered inside. Your eyes giving him a sidelong glance before sliding the book neatly between the desks. Jungkook didn't bother to look at the pages: his gaze was locked elsewhere. Somewhere outside the window with the freedom far beyond the gates of the school.

The enter class you’d spun a hundred different sentences in your mind. Each one playing out in your head as pure idiotic or unnecessary. You just couldn’t shake the feeling that it felt wrong letting him sit there like no one cares. To be a part of the prying gazes of the class; to know his name and him not knowing yours in return. You weren't sure why you gave a shit so much, anyways, but you did.

At the sound of the bell he was the first one to hop back onto his feet. His hand instinctively taking hold of the cane to keep him propped up as he moved to situate his backpack over his shoulders. You’d followed close behind him and gathered up your things.

You didn't see him again until fifth period. His brooding presence in the back of the class hung like a dark cloud you couldn't shake. You knew you weren't necessarily the most cheerful person in the room, but even Jungkook’s sour puss attitude was making you want to throw glitter at him.

He didn't acknowledge you when you came to your usual seat at the window, and it didn't bother you. No one usually acknowledged you anyways. What did bother you was that he was sitting in your window seat. Statistics was by far your least favorite subject this year, and the one thing that kept you sane was that window seat.

“That's my spot.”

Your voice didn't hold any hint of malice. It was just definitive: you wanted your seat. Jungkook didn't look at you straight away. His eyes still daydreaming through the window and the world beyond. When he did finally look at you, you were sure the annoyance in his face was meant to send you packing. Too bad for him you’d seen worse.

“Is that look supposed to scare me? It doesn't change the fact you're in my spot.”

“I don't see your name on it.”

Your laughter turned to a scoff; cut short by your disbelief.

“What are we in middle school? If you want to get technical, it was assigned by the teacher aka my name is theoretically on that seat. So -”

You acted like he was a pet you could shoo off your bed. The hand motion earning you his brow to raise in return.

“You’d really make a cripple get up?”

“Is that what we’re calling you? A cripple? Because it looks to me like you’re still capable of doing things, oh say, a paraplegic can't.”

The anger rolled through him suddenly like storm clouds. All the possibilities of playful mischief disappeared as he regarded you with so much hate, it was as if he’d struck you.

“Oh, really? I didn't realize that they were giving away M.D titles in high schools now.”

Your mouth opened to - to what? Apologize? The sensitive part of you told you that you should. His accident hadn't been a full year yet, and here you were badgering him. Yet, you knew if you continuously babied him like everyone else it was only going to do more harm than good. Your next choice of words were cut short when your teacher walked in and asked why you were still standing.

“He’s in my spot.”

God, now who sounded like they were in middle school? Your teacher seemed to draw a blank. His gaze moving from you to Jungkook then back to you.

“Just sit down, Y/N.”

You did so with a huff. Your arms pulling your backpack you’d sat down on the desk closer to you like a pillow. Just so you could rest your chin on top of it and tried to ignore the smirk that was now on Jungkook’s face.

After you’d gone to your next class you couldn't stop thinking about your exchange. It turned your mood sour the rest of the day, and you couldn't understand why. A part of you wondering if it was because of your choice of words or the defeat that shown all too bright in his doe eyes.

The end of the day couldn't have come fast enough. You just wanted to get home and out of your uniform and maybe get a chance to go take some photos before your parents got home. You were too preoccupied with thoughts of where you wanted to go, and what coffee shop you wanted to stop at, when you collided into the back of someone else. A loud curse followed suit of the sound of a cane dropping on pavement making your eyes shut tight and your throat constrict around a groan.

“Jesus, can't you watch where you’re goi- oh, it's you. Enjoy attacking cripples, do we?”

You opened your eyes to see a less than amused smile on his face. He acted more like a judge at your hearing and whatever sentencing he was giving out, it wasn’t in your favor.

“I’m sorry I wasn't paying attention.”

You moved to pick up his cane for him when his hand angrily swatted yours away making you jump back a step.

“I don't need your charity. I can do it myself!”

“No one said you couldn’t! I was only trying to be nice.”

“Yeah, well, go and be nice somewhere else.”

He situated his weight on his good leg and bent at the knee low enough for his hand to reach out and grab his second form of support. The movement so graceful that it left you stunned, but not as much as his words did.

“You know, just because something bad happened to you, it doesn't give you the right to be an asshole. You aren't the only person to lose someone or something important. Get over yourself.”

With your hands latched underneath the straps of your backpack you stomped around him. Not caring that you left him standing stone still. His mouth slightly agape as he watched you take your exit.

During your walk home, somehow, Jungkook plagued your thoughts. Your mind unable to comprehend why you were still thinking about him. It was the first time you’d met, and yet, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. If you were being honest with yourself you knew from replaying the last thing you said to him.The look on his face saying plainly that you were an asshole.

Everyone’s pain mattered. Grief and loss wasn’t measured by anyone else’s pain but the person who experienced it, and to diminish it in any way was unfair. Regret was building inside your chest and it was all you could do to keep your feet from sprinting back in his direction.

When you got home you went directly to your room, throwing your bag on the bed, and sulked to your desk. You had more pressing matters to attend to than a boys’ possible hurt feelings. No matter how many times you tried, however, you weren’t able to write out theories on government history or explain anatomical questions.

The only thing your brain appeared to focus on was how to apologize.

You thought about Jungkook while you showered and brushed your teeth. You thought of him when you laid in bed and struggled to find a way to sleep. Your mind playing out the million different possibilities of how your apology would be taken from him. You didn't necessarily understand what it felt like to have your dreams stolen from you. To be forced to cope with a new life you hadn’t asked for and the emptiness of losing someone you loved all in one go.

If the tables were turned and it was you, wouldn’t you feel equally as bitter?

The following morning in between toaster cooked waffles and fixing your uniform in the mirror, you’d resigned to apologizing to him. No matter how much thinking of it made your teeth grind and a growl rise in your chest at the thought. You imagined him sneering and replying with smart remarks and it caused your mind to waver, but you were better than the pettiness swelling in your chest. You were okay with knowing his prickled exterior came from something you couldn't ever understand.

You made sure all the time you had while you walked to school was used up by mumbling the speech you’d made up the night before. At crosswalks practicing the best stance that didn't appear threatening, was friendly, but wouldn't be misconstrued as flirting.

That was by far the last thing you wanted to happen in his eyes. Sure, Jungkook was undeniably attractive...as much as you would've loved to laugh sarcastically in his perfectly sculpted face that his obviously very masculine features did nothing to make you weak in the knees. That you hadn’t noticed when his elbows, still clad in his jacket, moved to rest on the desk it’d caused his biceps and shoulders to equally fight for whatever was left of the fabric. Or that small scar on his cheek caught your attention when he became annoyed; his tongue poking out at the side of his jaw.

No, you hadn't been paying an embarrassing amount of attention to him at all (or at the ridiculous outline of his thigh muscles in his school uniform) with every step he took.

So, since you hadn't personally taken notice of any of physically appealing traits, why would you flirt? You were well aware of the vast difference of not only your social scale, but also of your class ranking, and looks overall. You were lightyears away from ever being able to consider being more than a female acquaintance he happened to get stuck next to at school. He wasn't the first boy who was out of your league, and Jungkook wouldn't be the last. Why it bothered you so much was a child's thought you refused to entertain.

When you finally got to school you hurried up the steps and briskly made your way down the hall. Not stopping even after Jenny cursed after you for nudging her as you went by. As soon as you swung open the door for homeroom, your eyes landed on Jungkook’s position. His cane leaning against the desk, hands tucked inside the pockets of his uniform slacks as he leaned back against the chair.

His gaze was focused somewhere outside the window, completely blank and motionless, and you wondered if he could've been having a thought at all. He was close to being marked as unreal in your book when he blinked and turned his gaze towards you.

You hadn't realized you’d been staring until that moment. Your gaze dropping to the worn linoleum as you briskly made your way down to your desk. A mumbled, “Good morning,” falling like a bad habit from your lips while you came around the side to slid into the desk chair. Nervous hands clutching tightly to your bag as you stared straight ahead, unwilling to glance in his direction.

Somewhere between cursing your awkwardness and staring out the window like an escape hatch your teacher started the lecture. None of it to which you were paying attention too, which was probably why you heard him call your name. You jerked in your seat as he yelled it a second time. Your eyes no doubt wide from giggles that sounded around the room.

“Y/N, since you're listening, you can go ahead and answer number forty-seven in the workbook.”

Panic sent your eyes wide as you stared back at his expectant face: waiting for you to fail. You hadn't even taken your book out since you’d sat down, finally moving to do so, when you felt a light tap against your bag. It was enough to jerk your gaze away from the teacher and down to a completed book of all the problems done by Jungkook.

He cleared his throat and tucked his hands back inside the pockets of his trousers easily not understanding the severity of how his actions had left you wide-eyed in surprise. You were still taking too long, causing your teacher to prompt you with a grunt and Jungkook to casually reach out and tap the answer again. Your eyes trailing over the written answer before standing up and clearing your throat. The answer rolling off your tongue as easy as breathing; as if you didn't just steal it from a notebook.

You made a silent prayer the teacher didn't notice the sweat threatening to break at your temple. The nervous ticking of your feet tilting from spot to spot. A rush of relief escaping your lips when his response to your answer was to continue class.

You took your seat next to Jungkook; unable to acknowledge him just yet for saving you from whatever punishment your teacher would've no doubt thought of. The realization that Jungkook himself was the reason for your lack of concentration making your cheeks flush an embarrassing pink making your arms wrap protectively around your backpack.

You’d never even brought out your textbook. Never dropped your bag from your desk and no doubt Mr. Choi knew you were given the answer. You buried your mouth against the coarse nylon in a weak attempt to stifle your embarrassment.

“Thank you.”

Your eyes caught the soft tilt of his brow as it rose at the muffled words. You could make out his left shoulder leaning him down towards your huddled position, making your hands involuntarily tighten into your backpack.

“What was that?”

The husky whisper of his words weren't anything you’d heard before, and they resonated up your spine to leave you staring starry-eyed.

“Th-thank you. For giving me the answer.”

He didn't respond. His gaze fixed solely on your face until you forcibly struggled to keep from fidgeting under its weight. After what felt like a small eternity, Jungkook nodded his head and faced forward. The sudden ghost of the death of your conversation causing you to blink at his profile.

The rest of the class was spent with your focus lacking on taking notes. How could you focus with his presence commanding your attention? A small army of ants creeping along your nerves demanding to acknowledge him. It was so strong, when the bell rang you jumped up from your seat to try and escape into the freedom of the school’s hallway, only to end up with your knee connecting straight into the hardwood of the desk. Jungkook’s snort at your misfortune was enough to remind you how much of an arrogant pain in the ass he could be.

“Wow - good job doofus.”

Your head snapped back in his direction; tongue rolling in your cheek as he hopped up from his seat. A hand snaking out to grab his bag and sling it over his shoulder as the other reached for his cane. You held your head high despite how awful your knee was stinging, and stood up adjusting your bag.

“Seriously? That's all you've got? Doofus? Next time let’s try harder.”

Jungkook didn't seemed miffed by your retort, actually seeming more amused than anything, and for some reason it only bugged you more. Did you really want to get into another argument like you were in primary school with him? You discarded the thought as you tightened the strings on your backpack and decided to take the mature route and leave him behind.

The hallways mass of bodies rushing to get to their next period giving you comfort; until you remembered you shared the same economics class. Today was also a field trip to a farm to learn the process of making soy products. It would take up the last few classes of the day. You’d been excited to spend the day out of class and enjoy the rustic scenery out of town. Your only hope was that he hadn't been able to get his parental slip signed; he’d just started the day before. How could he?

When the teacher walked in and asked Jungkook for his permission slip you wanted to howl. Why was the universe so cruel? But why did you care so much?

It was a question you didn't bother to think about; you just grumbled the whole way to the bus. Your teacher standing at its entrance to put a check by your names every time one of your classmates passed him by like lined up cattle. You were the last checkmark: the last person to find an available seat. You rounded the final step and your stomach sank down into your shoes. The universe seeming to play a sick joke of musical chairs; your only options being Jungkook or Amber, the girl who actively struggled to make sure your life was a living hell.

You’d rather be eaten by dogs than even attempt to sit with her. Jungkook it was, then.

Your hand clasped tighter around the strap of your bag as you moved it farther up your shoulder. A large sigh accommodating your steps as you side-stepped down the aisle ending with you in front of his seat. His cane taking up what was left of it.

Jungkook didn't seem to register your presence or he just decided to pretend you weren't there. Either way you felt your annoyance grow as you cleared your throat to grab his attention. His chin barely leaving the perch of his fist as his head turned; gaze intimidating in a way that left your fingers pinching the fabric of yours clothes just to make sure they were still there and he hadn't stared straight through them.

“Can I help you?”

“I need a seat.”

He looked back and no doubt noticed the open spot next to Amber. Jungkook’s giving the slightest nod as he retorted, “There’s one right back there.”

“Come on, Jungkook. What do you want?”

“You're bribing me now?”

His smile was so bright, borderline adorable, and you hated how it threatened to make you retaliate with your own.

“Stop being a brat and just tell me,” you snapped instead.

Jungkook shot a quick glance back at Amber’s giggling figure. You were sure most people thought she sounded like wind chimes or something else cute and feminine, but to you it just sounded like a cat dying. When he looked back at you, Jungkook checked you out one last time. His eyes stopping at the lone earbud that sat against your chest. For a moment, you thought he was actually staring at your breasts making your cheeks burn and your gaze to look anywhere else but at his smug face.

“Let me listen to your iPod there and back on this trip, and I'll let you sit with me.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

Jungkook did a lavish hand sweep at the window. The motion reminding you of the showgirls on The Price is Right, making you believe maybe he’d somehow watched it, and one too many times.

“You get to use your imagination while you look out the window.”

“No way. Joint custody.”

“Fine. Joint custody, but I get to pick the music the whole way. If you have shitty taste the deal's off.”

He stuck out his hand for you to shake and there was a moment, a minor second, that it felt like you were making a deal with the devil. However, the sound of Amber’s laughter practically had your hand bolting into Jungkook’s. You shook it harder than was necessary before dropping it and shooing him to move.

Jungkook removed his bag and cane from the seat. Your legs giving out moments later so you could plop down in it, only to be greeted by his outstretched hand. The smile that spread across his lips shining brighter than the mischief in his eyes.

“As per our agreement: the iPod.”

He wiggles his fingers and you wanted to smack him. Your own squeezing tighter against the metal until, reluctantly, you chose your fate by placing it into his hand. Jungkook didn’t seem to mind your current look of displeasure while you watched him begin to scroll through your assorted music collection.

At least the seat was warm.

The first few seconds were somehow more awkward than you thought possible. Eyes locked in a fifty-yard stare so intense a soldier would’ve been envious. The only movement you caught of him was from your peripherals. Jungkook’s thumbs picking up speed from the leisurely way he scanned through the artists you’d offered. And no you did not, whatsoever, happen to notice the way his bottom lip would dart inside his mouth just to be held gently between his teeth. All the while his eyes focused on the task in front of him.

Nope. You weren’t paying attention to him. Not even a little bit. So how he was able to make you jump twelve inches out of your skin, while you were most definitely not embarrassing yourself by gawking over a beautiful man, was beyond you.

“Ya!” Jungkook clicked his tongue in distaste. His hand wiggling the ipod in your direction, as if it had caused some great offense. “What is this?”

Your neck tiled as you regarded him like he’d grown two heads. You were also positive if your eyebrows knitted together any harder you’d end up with a unibrow.

“Ugh, a mystical device that plays music.”

The look on Jungkook’s face faltered from frustration to annoyance. It was so sudden it ended up sending a bark of laughter in his direction. And just like that, the annoyed look was back again.

“I mean, what the hell do you have on this thing. Who is The Dead Weather? City and Colour? Joji?”

“They are artists I enjoy.”

“They’re shit.”

You rushed to try and snatch it back from him. Jungkook’s reflexes proving to be faster than your growing urge to smack him.

“Excuse me, little miss,” he began. “What do you think you’re doing?”

He used his index finger to push gently against your forehead, but with the current level of irritation, he still proved faster than you. Your failed attempt to swat his hand away meeting only empty air. Earning you a smirk of smug satisfaction.

“I’m trying to get my things back.”

“That wasn’t part of our agreement.”

You tried one last time to take him by surprise. Your right hand shot out too hard to grab at the object clasped in his large hands. The momentum carried you forward to land shoulder first against his chest. Leg nudging against his with enough force that it caused his cane to move an inch. It took everything you had to keep your head down to hide your flaming cheeks.

“And now you’re assaulting me.”

If your eyes were capable of rolling back any father you might've seen brain cells.

“I was only trying to get my property back. Since the only thing that’s coming out of you is complaining.”

“I’m not complaining,” he snapped. “You’re acting like an Indian giver.”

“Is that all you know how to do: complain?” You continued, completely ignoring him. A slight smirk now etching your lips. Jungkook’s eyes flicking down to notice your amusement at his expense. “I believe they call it, ‘trying something new.’”

His eyes narrowed on you and for a split second your pulse began to race. Sure, the agitation on his face at your teasing was obvious, but you could’ve sworn...maybe...just maybe he was smirking. Could you have possibly been able to make him smile?

“I should make you go sit with Amber.”

The smugness in his voice and the cocky smile that joined it instantly made whatever fun you were having come to a complete halt. Jungkook was so pleased with himself he had the audacity to shimmy his shoulders like he’d already won. The rolls had reversed. It was your eyes turn to throw daggers in his direction.

“Now who's the Indian giver.”

Even though he played up on what he felt like was a win, you could tell he was not as amused. His non-injured leg bounced to an incredible rhythm that he could only hear. Probably a furious count to a hundred to keep himself from saying anything else to continue your usual thrilling conversations. So when he handed over one earbud, and the iPod, but placed the other into his ear, it was fair to say it left you baffled.

You were waiting so long for him to give an explanation, but all he did was continue to stare at you. It was starting to make your pulse race again. Why did he constantly have to feel so intense? Everything about him. Not even his current state made him seem any less notable. It just didn’t seem fair.

It wasn’t until he cleared his throat did you realize you’d been staring. For god knows how damn long.

“You gonna play something or not?” he asked.

His hand motioned towards the music while his fingers adjusted the earbud he’d kept.

“I’m so confused.”

“You look it,” he retorted, causing your earlier thoughts to remember, although handsome, he was an incredible pain in the ass.

“Ten seconds ago you complained about my music. Now you want me to play it for you.”

Jungkook turned his gaze away, his body relaxing back against the hard foam of the seat. His eyes still cast outside the window as if he was trying to find some way to escape.

“Either I can spend the next couple hours listening to you talk, or “try” out some new music. If I have a choice, I’ll pick the music please and thank you.”

Oh, how you wish you could’ve shoved him out that tiny window. But as much as you hated to admit it, Jungkook was right. Music was the only reasonable escape from possibly having either of you commit murder.

It was your turn to try and get comfortable. This time your thumb scanning down the list of artists until your eyes caught sight of one he’d mentioned. Without giving him warning you pressed play. The haunting melody of Joji’s “Dancing in the Dark,” flooded the earbuds. His voice melancholic as he began to sing a sad tale of not wanting to be the hidden second option.

The song choice was enough to finally get Jungkook to look back at you. Somehow already having enough with the song choice before it’d barely even reached the chorus.

“Just listen.”

It was the only advice you could give him, and hopefully the reassurance you’d tried to ease into your tone was enough. Whether it was or not, by the time the chorus began he seemingly relaxed again into the seat. His arms moving to cross lazily against his chest. He seemed to actually be taking in the song while he watched out the window. The passing of the steel and concrete that was Seoul into the rural areas of green and forest.

The music itself was calming. It was enough to let yourself fully relax back against it and close your eyes. With your eyes closed you could easily fade out the sounds of the sporadic conversations on the bus. Even though you only had one ear bud, all you needed was to concentrate on the music to drown out the world.

It took a few seconds for you to be pulled into a Joji’s song about terrible longing and being left behind by a lover. I mean, you didn’t really know too much about the latter, but hey, a girl could daydream. His voice was seconds away from heading into the second verse of the chorus, when you heard the sound of the melody being lightly sung beside you.

The voice was beautiful. The most startling part, not the fact of its softness, or the way it swelled in perfect harmony with the song, was that it came from Jungkook. Your eyes flung open with your head snapping to gaze at his serene expression. He continued to face the window, daylight playing along the profile of his face, and his gentle voice singing perfectly in tune.

It wasn’t loud enough that anyone else could’ve heard it over the dozens of bursting conversations being spoken throughout the bus. That the only conclusion you could come up with to why he would be singing at all. He thought no one would be able to pay attention. You probably would’ve stayed gawking at him if his eyes fluttering open didn’t send you crashing back against the seat and clutching your eyes shut. You needed to pretend you hadn’t noticed. Or else he would stop. He would hide this part of himself that showed he was more than what he tried to portray.

You didn’t have to open your eyes to know he was glancing in your direction. To see his eyes gaze over you with suspicion before settling back and listening to the next track. Khalid’s intro of “Talk,” beginning to play into your earbud.

You spent the rest of the trip staying beside him, close as you could get without looking creepy, just to hear him gently sing. He breathed a gentle version of each one he knew, or came to like, and made it his own. Even being a few times were his nerves got the better of him. His voice rising ever slightly when he drew too deep into the song. He would quiet after each outburst, but to your pleasure Jungkook would start back up moments later.

After all the bickering, you could definitely say the trade was worth it. You were so taken with listening to him that when the bus came to a stop, you didn’t realize it until your earbud was yanked from your ears. Your eyes heavy from sleep fluttered open and closed a few times before they focused on Jungkook’s face.

“Ya, didn’t you hear them call us off the bus?”

Your response came in the form of slow blinks and a mouth half-hung open. You wished more for a nap than going out to explore a farm, but your limbs were screaming to be stretched. You went to answer him when, instead, Jungkook grabbed his bag, cane, and started to try and scoot over you.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?”

“Trying to get by! So excuse me!”

His backside rubbed against your arms and, to your horror, your chest. Without thinking, your hand lashed out to smack across his bottom causing both of you to go as still as the dead. Your heart was thundering as you looked at your hand like it’d just finished committing murder. Maybe it had. But the only person it’d murdered was you with your eyes roaming up to see a shocked Jungkook gawking down at you over his shoulder.

“Did you really just smack my ass.”

“It was an accident!”

“An accident?” He questioned.

“Self-defense!”

Jungkook tried to hide the amusement your no doubt panicking was causing him. His mouth struggling to keep the frown that was tilting ever so slightly at the top of his lips.

“If anything needed to be defended, it was my honor. Over here just smacking people’s ass’s without a warning.”

You knew by now your face looked like a fire hydrant.

“Self-defense from you dragging your ass all over me! I’m not a seat, ya know.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

This time Jungkook didn’t try to hide his smile. To your surprise, it wasn’t a malicious one that showed he enjoyed your embarrassment. No. This one decorated his face in something softer that made your heart thunder to a different rhythm entirely.

“Oh, look you guys. Shit Stain and The Cripple are flirting.”

Amber’s grating voice was one you’d grown painstakingly accustomed too. The sinister way she spoke impossibly loud just so everyone was forced to hear her. Whether they wanted to or not. You were used to her coldness and the constant way she harassed you. What you weren’t so used to, was having Jungkook as part of the punchline.

Immediately, you felt his legs tense where they touched you. The muscles ramrod straight and flexing under the skin. The lighthearted tone you’d heard seconds before in your banter was now replaced with an aloofness that made you stiffen in your seat. Jungkook’s jaw held tight as he regarded Amber as if she were no more than a pest buzzing at his ear.

“Ya, fix your nose before you bother talking to me. I can see half the planet up there.”

Amber’s eyes flashed hellfire as she glowered over her shoulders to stop the giggling that ensued. When all grew quiet enough to where she felt like she would be heard, a harsh smile spread her lips. Her legs began to take a step to move away from the two peasants who’d held enough of her attention.

“Whatever, Cripple. Try not to get your stick in any holes.”

She was passing the front of your shared seat when, suddenly, Amber’s legs gave way. A tumbling mess of shrieks, bleached hair, and her arms flapping rapidly a solid indication of her mysterious attempt at taking flight. The only thing that moved to catch her was her face. The minute the laughter began to bubble up inside you, you quickly placed a hand over your mouth. Least the she-devil hear it escape.

You took a second to inspect what could’ve possibly taken down the ice queen. Even when she wore ridiculously high heels, Amber walked with a grace you knew you’d never pull off. Not without looking like a newborn giraffe, that is. Glancing down you noticed Jungkook’s cane strategically placed right where her foot would’ve landed. The culprit in making Amber a freshly minted carpet on the bus’s floor. Somewhere on the bus you knew she was up from her tumble and huffing a few choice words. You were sure she knew, just like you did, that Jungkook was the one who’d done it. You paid no attention to her tantrum and kept a transfixed gaze on him.

He’d finished scooting the rest of the way to get to the middle of the bus and was situating his cane and shoulder bag. His hand suddenly reaching down into view and patiently waiting for you to take it.

“Come on, Y/N. Let’s go.”

You knew you looked like a fool. Your eyes mirroring the thousands of silent questions that threatened to make you ill. A part of you hoping he understood your dumbfounded look simply begged him to find some way to answer you. You’d stared starry-eyed up at him for so long you half expected the patience of Jungkook’s open hand to fall flat. Instead, he continued to surprise you. His gaze gentle, and hand openly waiting for you to take it when you were ready.

With eyes wide and mouth agape, your body rejected your stunned silence and placed a small hand in his. His own quickly enveloped yours perfectly and gave you the added support you needed to find stable footing beside him. Jungkook finally looked away from you to stare at the remaining goons.

The moment you stood beside him you became painfully aware of the noticeable height difference. Your gaze moving up inch-by-inch until your eyes were locked onto his face. The stubbornness of a hard set jaw and eyes that dared anyone to speak enough to make your heartbeat pick up in your chest. When he appeared to be finished making sure his presence was known, Jungkook’s eyes turned back to you. A silent request of reassurance to know you were alright making you answer with a quick nod.

Your cheeks blushed furiously as you struggled to look away from his gaze. No longer were you so worried about Amber; your mind trapped on a repeat of questions. Did Jungkook always smell like Calvin Klein cologne? Could it be considered weird how you felt undeniable comfort pressed up against him? Or really weird if in your head you suddenly imagined recreating this scene a million times later with you being braver beside him, instead of being the damsel in distress.

He didn’t seem at all perplexed with your case of sudden shyness. His strong legs pulling you both forward and past the horde of Amber and her lackeys without missing a step. His head held high while the other hand helped him keep his balance without using his cane. For the small world that was high school, Jungkook showed them he was still that once popular boy who was known for not taking shit from no one. A demi-god amongst mere mortals that were somehow honored by his presence.

And here you were. So close to the orbit of his sun and walking away unscathed.

Your train of rushing thoughts kept you from paying attention. It was something you soon were going to regret when he led you off the steps of the bus and onto the dirt road. Jungkook’s exit was obviously graceful while yours in comparison was a train wreck. Instead of your feet stepping off the last step and landing like a normal person, you lost your footing. Your clumsy feet sending you struggling to find a balance with the earth before you crash landed on the floor. Luckily, Jungkook’s back was there to catch you.

The momentum of your fall sent his feet skittering to correct you both before you fell into the dirt. A few choice cuss words leaving his lips and crimson flaring up on your cheeks to make the dance of falling even more entertaining. You could practically hear the cackling of the witches echoing out of the bus like a cave.

Jungkook made quick work of righting you both; his good leg furiously hoping to support the weak one. His cane dug into the earth a good inch to add some more stabilization. You let go of his hand and moved away from his side where you’d previously been planted. You weren’t worthy of being there. This boy who saw your distress and helped you. Only for you to ruin it in the process.

“Well that’s one way to ruin an exit,” he huffed.

He glanced in your direction and you could’ve sworn he was smiling. Or was that a smirk? Whatever it was, it was quickly washed away as his eyes took you in. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry!”

Your words rushed from your lips with your back snapping to bow a perfect ninety-degrees. Your hair a curtain to try and hide your embarrassment.

“Ugh...for what?”

“For bumping into you like that. I should’ve been paying attention.”

A soft laugh bounced from between his lips and you were willing to beat his face lit up like pure sunshine. You moved to stand upright just in time to see you were right. Jungkook was either oblivious to the way you were looking at him, or was simply unfazed. His shoulder hiking the backpack where it’d begun to fall as he adjusted himself to get ready to move to join the rest of the class up ahead.

“You did ruin one hell of a stylish exit.”

“I don’t know how stylish you can be stepping off of a school bus, but...thank you.”

The both of you locked eyes with one another. A large part of you hoped Jungkook was able to see the sincerity or at least hear it. Maybe he wasn’t that much of a pain in the ass after all. That soft smirk you’d grown accustomed to etched back on his lips as he took the first step towards your waiting classmates.

“No problem. Plus, I figured I owed you for letting me listen to your music.”

You felt your brow shoot up in mock surprise. Your legs falling into step beside him.

“I thought you said I had terrible taste.”

“I never said terrible,” Jungkook corrected. His eyes danced with a playfulness that lifted a smile to your lips

“You could’ve fooled me.”

“Well, it wasn’t the greatest, but thank you. I actually ended up liking most of it, at least.”

“Oh, what a sweet way of insulting my musical taste.”

“Hey! I said I liked most of it. It’s like a win-win. Kinda.”

You wanted to be snappy. Give him some more hell for always playing up on being a condescending moody jerk. In reality, walking next to Jungkook while the silence swelled around you without the awkward pressure; you knew that wasn’t all of him. He’d proven how sweet he could be at the memory of how easily you’d felt protected by a simple stretch of a hand. The look in his eyes while he waited for you to take his extended hand a plea to know you could trust him. Strangely, a part of you already felt like you could.

You snuck a look over in Jungkook’s direction, and felt a smile begin to sweep up the corners of your lips. It was a different, but nice, change to have someone come to your defense. Yeah, most of the time you wanted to throttle him for seeming like he could care less. In that moment, however, he cared enough to help. That had to mean something.

“You’re welcome.”

You hoped your words conveyed the gratitude you felt in that moment. Prayed that Jungkook could hear it. When he looked at you, you made sure to give him a quick smile before you looked away. Your eyes struggled not to look back at him; to tell him all the things that were racing through your head. It took every ounce of your will to stay focused on the group of classmates that were growing closer. Somewhere along the way, you’d hoped Jungkook would’ve replied with his usual smart ass remarks. It worried you how sad a small part of you felt at his silence.

Now, you worried maybe you were going a little nuts.

Instead, you came to the edge of the group in silence. Your ears struggling to grasp on to the middle of what your teacher gave out for instructions for the day.

So what if that insane part of you didn’t receive a smart ass remark in return for your gratitude. You were more than happy with the fact Jungkook stayed by your side. The close proximity just enough to convey what you were both feeling without unnecessary words.

______________

For the past hour the farmer -Kim Sejung - had shown the class around his vast property. The beginning of this magical tour starting with where he manufactured the tofu once it was fermented then sent down to be processed for packaging. He was a man who took immense pride in his work. The next room where the fermentation took place and, his overeager explanation, spelled out how devoted he was to his craft.

The whole entire backwards presentation was something your teacher decided became a chance for everyone to write down everything you’d been shown. A punishment you knew was coming when Kim Sejung lost half the class to their own conversations long before you’d hit the second part of his speech.

Now, anyone could be wondering why all of you were taking the longest stroll of your life out in the middle of the farm. A fair question you’d been asking yourself since you realized your shoes were completely covered in mud. You’d been trying to understand why this hadn’t been the first place Kim Sejung would’ve taken all of you. Your only guess being he just enjoyed showing the process backwards. Or maybe he was secretly a mastermind at torture. It was the only logical conclusion you could come up with at having the entire class now out in the muddy acres of his farm.

And sure, maybe your attention was being sent over your shoulder every five seconds. A certain boy with exhaustion creased in his brow making it harder for you to ignore. You were looking back so often you felt like you’d end up with whiplash at any minute. Really, it was all Jungkook’ fault for causing you to worry; becoming painfully aware with each glance at Jungkook’s struggling frame.

How Sejung -, or anyone else for that matter, hadn’t noticed he was falling further behind the group with every step left you completely perplexed. You’d gave up listening to whatever the farmer or teacher talked about or what questions they were throwing around. You could bet it had to do about soil.

If everyone else could ignore him why couldn’t you? It’s not that you hadn’t tried, cause of course you’d done exactly that. Your bottom lip now held a semi-permanent indent from your teeth. Whenever you felt that tick in your neck to look back to check on him: you bit down. When you felt like drawing attention to him by saying something: you bit down. A part of you willing to bet Jungkook would never forgive you if you did.

Your solution? It was ingenious, really.

You fell back behind every classmate. Patiently, you waited for everyone to pass you up. Your feet dragging in the muddy dirt until you were sure no one would notice when you inevitably stopped.

With a soft count of three under your breath, you came to a halt at the back of the group. Your small count continued for another round before you were comfortable with the distance it’d placed between the group, Jungkook, and yourself.

You let out a huff of satisfaction as you turned around to give Jungkook your complete attention. Your neck thanking you for the small favor. What you found, however, greeting you was far from what you’d hoped to find.

Jungkook’s current location became a solid five feet behind the group. His feet finally coming to the large puddle of mud that you and the class had easily maneuvered Jungkook had not. His struggle coming to a standstill at the muddy puddles edge. Jungkook’s face etched itself in harsh determination to no doubt allow him from moving forward. You told yourself you would stay back and wait for him.

Just wait, You kept telling yourself over and over. A broken record having nothing on what you felt capable of standing there. Your pulse bonding in your veins and feet bouncing with anxiety as he assessed his options. All you were supposed to do was hang back to walk with him. That was it. You weren’t his nanny. You knew how he felt about being pitied, and yet, when he took his first tentative step out into the mud and his cane sunk deep and his bad leg followed suit, your feet deceived you.

It appeared Mother Nature had her own way of pushing you past your reserved good intentions. Your feet sprinted forward fast enough that you were embarrassed at their quickness. The expected movement bringing Jungkook’s frustrated gaze up from his current dilemma to you.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?”

The annoyance held in his question didn’t go unnoticed by you. If it was you in his position, you’d be annoyed seeing you standing there too and not offering to help.

“I came to help you.”

The words just streamed out with your running thoughts. Your feet willing to move forward back into the mud to help him. Jungkook noticeably began to struggle to remove his foot that submerged quickly underneath.

“I didn’t ask for your help.”

“You didn’t have too, Jungkook. I want to help.”

“Let me rephrase myself.” His irritation was pure fire in his eyes as his words hurled in your direction. “I didn’t ask for it and I don’t want it.”

You wish you could say you handled his dismissal with grace. That you understood he was only being a jerk because he was embarrassed and angry at his current predicament. You really wanted to be that bigger person. Well...that most definitely wasn’t what happened.

Your eyes narrowed in on him. Your previous desire to help evaporated as you watched his leg sink deeper. His other foot soon joined the first in a poorly calculated attempt to release the other. Your arms crossed over your chest as you took in the scene before you.

“Well, Jungkook, I’m not sure if you noticed but you’re slowly heading towards being buried under that mud.”

“Thank you for that astute observation. Anything else you’d like to add?”

“Why are you being such an asshole?!” you snapped.

Your arms came loose down at your side and turned to clenched fists. You weren’t exactly sure what you expected his reaction to be. You knew Jungkook held a hatred for being pitied. Hell, you would too if it was the other way around. You knew he wasn’t helpless, but you also knew he couldn’t do everything alone. No one could. So what was so wrong with offering to help him?

You weren’t sure how you looked. Maybe crazy? Or did the desperation of not knowing how to handle the situation have you appear sad? Whatever it was Jungkook saw, it was enough to look away. His eyes dropping down to his covered feet.

The space between the two of you swelled with tension. His hair perfectly covering his face, and kept you from being able to steal any glance. It was enough to make you unsure if you should prepare yourself for a verbal battle with him or if you should simply walk away. What if you’d made a mistake thinking Jungkook would want to be bothered at all with help. Especially from you.

“God, this is embarrassing.”

His words were so light you weren’t sure at first if he’d spoken. A part of you wondering if you’d made up the sound of his voice as Jungkook’s face continued to be hidden by layers of hair. But, lord help you, you knew you weren’t imagining things. The sound of his voice is something you’d come to recognize with ease. You knew without a doubt it most definitely was him. And the sadness that reverberated from his words made your anger dissipate instantly.

“What?”

Could you have picked a stupider response? When Jungkook lifted his head up to look at you, you knew he silently agreed.

“It’s embarrassing!” His hands motioned to take in his current predicament. The hurt shown on his proud features made your heart ache to comfort him. “How pitiful can I get? It’s so damn frustrating! The cripple unable to get himself out of some stupid mud.”

“Jungkook, you are literally the least pitiful person I’ve ever met.”

“And yet, it doesn’t make me any less stuck.”

You took a step forward and began to try and edge around what you could of the puddle. You knew there was no way you weren’t getting more mud on your shoes, but the purpose was worth it.

“Why didn’t you just go around it?” Your question earned you a dead stare. One that reminded you of your mother when she felt like you’d asked the silliest question. You held your hands up in surrender and said, “Hey. It’s a fair question.”

“If I just go around it, it proves that I can’t do the simplest thing, Y/N. It proves…”

“That you aren’t like everybody else,” you finished for him.

You could’ve kicked yourself. How could you not have noticed it sooner. Jungkook just wanted to prove to himself that he could still do things like he did before his accident. Because even though he showed people bringing up his disability didn’t bother him, it did. He still hadn’t come to terms with what happened, and believed the current state of his leg deemed him less worthy.

He looked away from whatever he saw in your eyes. His own fighting not to show the sadness that threatened to spill down his cheeks.

“You aren’t like everyone else, Jungkook.” Your words tore his head back in your direction. His shoulders quickly squared up to take whatever verbal blow you were about to hurl in his direction. You were happy to convince him otherwise.

“You don’t need to prove anything to a single person. Yeah, you aren’t a hundred percent who you used to be, but it doesn’t make you any less you. You aren’t defined by a damn leg and if another human being does treat you differently because of it: fuck’em. Now, get your shit together and hand me the end of your cane.”

The both of you stared at one another for what felt like an eternity. Jungkook’s face unreadable as his eyes took you in making you squirm just the slightest bit. Whether he was looking for a hint that you were deceiving him; that something hurtful laid underneath, he wouldn’t find it. You made sure with your hand this time open and waiting for him, that he could see just how much you meant what you said.

After what felt like a baby size eternity, Jungkook answered you in a way you’d grown to expect. In one swift motion, he picked his cane out from the mud and placed it, dirty end first into your waiting hand. Your face scrunched up in disgust, as the leftover mud squished between your fingers. The action enough to break the coldness of Jungkook’s blank expression into the smirk that was all too familiar.

“Oh my god! You would do that.”

The amusement on his face was enough to tell you he’d most definitely done it on purpose. Of course, you’d already known that. You didn’t need his raised eyebrow or that devilish smirk to inform you of that.

“Oh, so you think you know me now.”

“I know enough to know, without a doubt, this is something you’d do. Brat.”

You saved the last word for good measure and it was met with a bark of surprise laughter. His reaction was not something you’d expected, but a welcomed one as his face instantly lit up brighter than you’d ever seen. Jungkook’s laughter and smile was genuine and good god, was it breathtakingly adorable.

Who knew calling him a brat led to so many heart stopping possibilities? Like no longer having a permanent scowl.

“Alright smart ass, how about we settle this for when I’m not stuck in the mud.”

“You got yourself a deal. Only if you stop pouting.”

“I was not pouting!”

It was your turn to laugh wholeheartedly while your other hand moved to secure itself to his cane. There was no way you’d be letting it slip free from you. Mud or no mud.

“Tomato potato: pouting is pouting.”

Jungkook’s head tilted to the side. His brain noticeably trying to comprehend what it was you just said.

“That makes absolutely no sense.”

“It makes perfect sense, Jungkook now grab a hold of yo-“

Honestly, you should’ve seen this coming. He’d already given you a muddy end of a cane. It was the perfect foreshadowing moment that was leading up to this, and yet, somehow you were surprised when he pulled with full force. You figured he was strong - not freakishly. Not enough to send you flying face first toward the large mud puddle with the sound of a squeaking bird of surprise that you could only assume was yourself.

The only thing that kept you from going face first was a split second decision to ruin just the lower half of your outfit.

The impact with the mud was squishy and came with the weirdest sound effects that reminded you of pushing your hand into a container of slim. God, was it squishy. An immediate, “Ewww,” dragging out from your lips as your hands lifted up from where they’d been buried. Your eyes taking in the full extent of your lower half now resembles the Swamp Thing.

Jungkook’s laughter brought you back to reality and flinging what was left of the mud on your hands in his direction. It only earned you another bark of laughter.

“What in the hell was that for?!”

“Now whose pouting?” He teased.

You wanted to hit him but you knew you couldn’t reach. So you settled for flinging another round of mud.

“Are you kidding me? You pulled me in here cause I said you were pouting!”

“Yup.”

“Unbelievable. You’re a child.”

“I thought you said brat?”

“That too! Ugh! Jungkook! You’re such a pain in the ass. I’m not helping you anymore.”

You moved to try and pull up one leg and found it way more difficult than you’d imagined. Seriously, was this shit superglue? No matter how many times you struggled to pull up either leg it wouldn’t budge; producing an agitated groan to seep from your body.

You wanted to murder him.

When you glanced up at him at least Jungkook had the decency to appear worried.

“Do you need help? I didn’t think it’d be so hard for you to pull yourself up.”

“Oh, so you’re worried about me not being able to pull myself up, but not about me covered in mud.”

The shrug Jungkook gave as an answer made you want to throttle him. You wanted to tell him to shove his help up his ass. Realistically, however, you knew there was no way you were getting unstuck without getting dirtier from crawling around. For a second time, his hand appeared, like magic, in front of you.

Your eyes trailed up his hand to that devilish grin of his and found your earlier agitation disintegrate. What you hated the most, was how his eyes lit up to match his smile. This warm version of Jungkook wasn’t someone you were used to. You’d seen the cocky jock who knew he was good at everything. Experienced the real asshole Jungkook that made you want to rip out chunks of hair. But this side of him...was worth a heartache or two.

Without another thought you reached out and took his hand and allowed him to start lifting you up. It wasn’t until you were half way you came up with your own plan. A devilish grin of your own spreading your lips wide as the idea grew into something worth doing .

Jungkook had a moment to be confused before your free hand shot out and took fierce hold of his forearm. You made sure it was locked in place before your body went completely limp, and sent his body into an unbalanced mess.

“The fu-!”

Jungkook’s descent, at first, made you feel like you’d accomplished a victory. One you didn’t get to relish in for long. Jungkook may not have been able to finish his earlier sentence, but you easily made up for it. A softened, “Fuck!” came pressed from your chest as he landed sideways on top of you. The angle reminded you of an awkward pair of scissors: if one part of the scissors was ridiculously muscled for a student.

You’d had little time to move your hands up to brace yourself against his weight. The air from your lungs whooshing out in laughter with your body struggling to recover from underneath him. And no, no you weren’t painfully aware that your hands could feel every well lined muscle under the fabric of his t-shirt. And no, you were not blushing. Not even a little.

You were sure when Jungkook lifted his head up to look in your direction, he’d see the sinful glee you took in your awkward positioning. Instead, your lungs erupted into laughter. One side of his face perfectly smeared with mud making one eye remain closed and his right doing most of the work. He looked ridiculous...and cute.

“You think this is funny?”

“I think-I think it’s the best thing I’m going to see all day.”

It took a few tries to speak through your laughter, but when you finally got the words out you couldn’t have been more proud. Jungkook on the other hand, seemed to struggle to keep the annoyance on his face. The first sign of a smile cracking into the mud that began to dry on his face.

Jungkook moved to prop himself up - the action giving you the room you needed to wiggle out from underneath him. You were about to call it a success, a retort to an unspoken comment he’d yet to make. All of it came crashing down, however, when Jungkook’s mud covered hand rose from the depths and placed a long streak down your nose with his thumb giving an artistic sweep across your cheek.

The marks he gave reminded you of those old western movies you’d seen. Warpaint covered faces of men getting ready to square off to defend their home from invaders. The thought seemed to match perfectly with the beat of your heart thundering like a drum inside your chest.

It wasn’t just because Jungkook touched you - on purpose - in a playful way. It had nothing to do with the fact his muddy hand was currently resting against your cheek. Or from the denial that it brought out a spark of mischievous happiness to ignite inside you as your mouth fell open to expose the sound of laughter. No, your heart pounded against your chest purely for the look that passed behind chocolate eyes and the soft smile that followed close behind.

So, sure. In that instance it could’ve just been a plan old look. You weren’t a hundred percent sure it wasn’t more than just a look though, either. There was that one boy in first grade, however, who did give you an aggressive teeth-clacking peck on the lips during recess, but this was completely different.

And because you were so uncertain of what it all meant, your only reaction was to lift your hand up from beside you and slam it palm first against his face.

Jungkook’s face lit up in shock and you couldn’t stop the eruption of laughter that spilled from your lips. It was an immediate rush of joy at seeing his handsome face marked by your small muddy handprint that streaked itself across the plains of his face. Normally, you’d be mortified: waiting patiently to be scolded and made to feel small. Instead, the shock wore off his face in an instant. Jungkook’s eyes lighting up with childlike excitement as a giddy, “Oh yeah?” rushed between his lips.

You didn’t have a chance to wonder what he meant before he reached into the mud and brought up a snowball version of the earth.

“Oh, no you don’t!”

Your eyes went wide and frantic giggles exploded free as your body struggled in vain to get out from under him. The previous joy of being pinned by his weight dissipating when that large mud ball found its new home smeared on top of your head.

“Jungkook-ah!”

His own laughter rose up around you as your body began to move in earnest to get out from under him. When you finally realized it was pointless, another bright idea overtook you. If Jungkook noticed the renewed mischievous glint in your eye, he didn’t show it.

He continued to smile obliviously down at you until the two fist fulls of mud you’d taken in both hands came crashing down on top of his head. It didn’t matter that your face caught some of the aftermath: the face he made was priceless.

You didn’t get a chance to enjoy your tiny victory before the two of you were a mess of arms and limbs rolling feverishly around; the two of you playfully wrestling for dominance. The mixture of your laughter rising up until you weren’t sure where Jungkook’s ended and yours began. By the end of it, you were both resembling the pigs you’d seen earlier on the farm. Bodies fully covered in wet earth and lounging beside each other in exhaustion. Every few moments random fits of giggles overtaking the two of you until you realized you both needed to get back.

This time, instead of the two of you refusing help from the other, you eagerly took it. The both of you worked together to reach the edge of the mud pit and, without further incident, pulled each other out.

The walk back to the main barn was done in silence. In other circumstances, you would’ve been consumed with a need to fill it. The impending weight of anxiety would’ve flared across your skin until you would’ve blurted out anything. Small talk was never one of your strong suits, but a comfortable banter had somehow formed between the two of you. You knew if you started talking, Jungkook would respond. It was still a fifty-fifty on whether or not it would be a smart ass response or a real one, but a response nonetheless.

You didn’t try to start a conversation. You chose to enjoy the reassurance that he was beside you. Your mind running through what exactly just happened and how you both ended up looking like bad impression art. You’d spent so much time stealing glances in his direction that you could’ve sworn you caught him doing the same. But who were you kidding. No one had stolen glances at you since middle school, and that was only to steal the answers off tests.

There was no way Jeon Jungkook would be the one to break that trend. No matter how flattering the thought. So when you felt that knowable itch of being watched you found yourself surprised that Jungkook was indeed staring at you.

“Are you cold?”

Jungkook’s question jolted you from your train of thought and sent you reeling into another. He was closer to you now. Close like you’d been while sitting on the bus with your shoulders brushing with every movement. Every bump helplessly sending you lightly banging into the other.

On the bus you could easily play it off as something out of your control. But now? Now there was no good explanation that you could find to why Jungkook decided to walk so closely beside you. There was no way to explain away the way his gaze drew across your face like he’d save it to memory.

“Well I am covered in freezing mud water.”

You’d tried for sarcasm but your voice barely carried over a whisper. It made Jungkook’s head subconsciously dip lower just to hear you. The devilish smirk he was infamous for spread like wildfire across his lips.

“I would offer you my jacket, since it’s the gentlemanly thing to do, but you see some crazy person pushed me into the mud.”

A scoff escaped you as your hand playfully whipped out to slap his shoulder.

“Ya, Jungkook! You? A gentleman? That’s funny. What is also funny is the fact you got yourself stuck in the mud first. I just came to rescue you.”

“Rescue me?” He asked with an eyebrow coyly cocked.

“I’m like your knight in shining armor.”

A throaty laugh came from between his lips; sending his head back exposing his face to the sun. You were mesmerized watching him as the sun kissed down across his face and weren’t at all ashamed at being caught watching as he brought his attention back to you. A smile of your own growing to match the one he wore along with your mind fluttering in wonder of how he was even real.

“If you’re my knight, Y/N I’m in a lot of trouble.”

You feigned hurt but couldn’t hide the grin happily splayed on your face and, crazy thing was, you didn’t want to. It felt impossible that the two of you were so giddy with each other. A strange familiarity brewed heavily between you to the point it felt like the two of you joked like this for years.

Jungkook’s own smile enough to warm the chill that began to creep up your arms to expose goosebumps on your skin. The two of you fell into a shroud of companionable silence and continued to make your way back to the main entrance of the farm. Your heart skipping a helpless beat every time you feel Jungkook’s fingers graze across yours. Your mind hopelessly wanting to believe maybe, just maybe, he was tempted to reach out and hold it.

You came back to the main farm and found your teacher and classmates impatiently waiting. The immediate shock your teacher showed at your appearance seemed to grow more intense until he came storming over: hysterical at your current condition.

“What on earth have the two of you been doing?!”

“They’ve been rolling around with pigs.”

You knew that tart voice anywhere and wasn’t surprised it was Amber that spoke. What did surprise you was how much you didn’t care with Jungkook standing like an equally filthy calm current by your side.

“We’re sorry, seonsaegnim,” Jungkook began coolly with a bow. When he realized you were still standing a hand shot out to the back of your head to bring it down. You quickly slapped it away but kept yourself in a bow. “We got lost from the group and found ourselves stuck in a giant mud pit.”

“It seems to me like you were playing in it,” the farmer chuckled. “I could hose them off before they get back on the bus.”

His offer left heat rising to your cheeks. The sound of a sea of giggles making your stomach ache in embarrassment. You used the curtain of your hair to hide and hoped they’d come up with a different suggestion, but with a small shrug of his shoulder, Jungkook brought your heated attention back to him. A soft smile cracking the now dry handprint you’d left across his cheek.

It was ridiculous. You both looked ridiculous, and yet, he was still handsome. You probably looked like a troll.

“Hey Knight in shining armor,” he whispered. “It seems we get to take a bath together.”

The sun couldn’t be anywhere near as hot as your face felt. The heat spread from red cheeks and down your neck until the butterflies in your stomach were out of control. Jungkook knew what he had done. He could see it plainly on your face and he loved it.

You, on the other hand, wanted to hit him.

And just like divine intervention your teacher did it for you. His curled up pamphlet struck down on top of Jungkook’s head, but it only made his smile grow impossibly larger.

“Ya! I don’t think so! We’ll have you go one at a time to clean up. I’ll look for something for you both to change into.”

Jungkook went first to be hosed down. The farmer actually allowed him to have his privacy so he could get into his more...private areas in peace. The clothes that were found for both of you to wear were old gym clothes thrown in a box in the storage bay at the bottom of the bus. You imagined they must have been thrown there for a reason. The colors were sad and faded down to a color that resembled the mud you’d fallen in. An even sadder rim of yellow wrapped around the sleeves the only hope of color in the terrible outfit you were now forced to wear. At least it was warm with the added bonus Jungkook somehow ended up with the shortest shorts in the box.

After the two of you dried off and changed you were shepherded onto the bus. The place that held Amber and her minions now vacant due to the teacher demanding you sit exactly in the far back in their spot. He must have imagined it would be like putting two naughty kids in time out. The only effect it really had was giving you the chance to breathe and enjoy the solitude.

Jungkook dug around for your earbuds inside your bag. Finally finding the small container and lifting it open. His fingers pulling out the left and surprising you by placing it gently in your ear. Your face must have shown this but Jungkook paid you no mind. He was busy placing the other bud into his ear; flipping the case shut and throwing it back inside to forever be lost until you practically tipped out your bag to locate it again. Oh well. A problem for another time.

“Put on something for the ride home, Y/N. I trust you to be dj again.”

You wanted to tease him. To joke about putting on the YMCA or Macarena . The only thing that stopped you was the relaxed features of Jungkook’s face. The lazy way his neck rested back against the seat and his head languidly gazing in your direction. You tried to squish back all the butterflies that look gave you and a hushed, “Alright. Lady Marmalade it is,” embarrassingly came from between your lips.

Your eyes were too focused on your music list. You didn’t allow them to look as he chuckled beside you. The sound light and rough all at once - demanding you give it attention.

“Don’t make me regret it,” he joked.

You kept scrolling until you found Deans’ “D (Half Moon)”. The soft piano and tone of his voice quickly filled the ear buds and by the soft hum of the voice beside you, you knew you’d pick a good one.

You allowed yourself to relax beside him. Your right hand placing the playlist down between the two of you. Your body was so relaxed you didn’t think about moving your hand anywhere else. Your eyes falling comfortably closed as you continue to listen to the acoustics of the song and the even softer, and equally pleasurable, song of Jungkook singing along.

When his left hand found its way down beside yours, you didn’t question his reasoning. The music held between the two of you and maybe he wanted to change the playlist. You let your mind continue to think that even after his finger gingerly grazed yours and found a home beside them. Both of your hands stayed this way the entire ride back to campus. Neither of you moved to change positions; lost to the sounds of the melodies of the playlist.

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haikyuu-appreciation-club · 3 years

Text

•When You Fall Asleep On Them w/ Oikawa, Kenma, Atsumu, Terushima, and Tendou•

warnings: a few curse words

genre: fluff

characters: oikawa, kenma, atsumu, terushima, + tendou

•Oikawa•

your exhaustion was clear on your face as you slumped down against the wall of the gym, settiling your tired body on the floor

you loved the seijoh boys to death but they really wore you out sometimes

to be fair, they weren’t so bad most days you guys had practice

but every so often they had you so drained by the end of the day you could barely keep your eyes open, like today for example

“Y/N-chan!”

you recognized the sweet voice meeting your ears but to acknowledge it would require energy you just didn’t have

oikawa slid down beside you, hair still damp after rinsing off his post practice sweat

he knew how exhausting everyone could be and honestly he was surprise that you hadn’t quit the position, but he was glad you decided to stick around for so long

an arm snaked its way around your shoulder before giving your arm a few gentle rubs,

“I think everyone worked really hard today, don’t you?”

to tired to respond, you opted for a simple nod before leaning your head on oikawa’s shoulder

he was suprised at first, not really used to this side of you, but a smile found it’s way onto his face as he felt your warmth slowly take over him

eventually, your breaths slow to a steady rhythm, signaling to oikawa that you finally stopped trying to fight the exhaustion that had plagued you

he maneuvered your figure so that you were lying in his lap, eyes fluttering ever so slightly as you subconsciously allowed yourself to adjust to the lighting change

affection was the only thing written on the boy’s face as he watched soft breaths flow in and out of your parted lips

a few moments later, the rest of the team started filing out of the gym, confusion quickly filling the air as oikawa smiled down at your sleeping form

iwaizumi seemed the most agitated with this development,

“What the hell did you do to them, shitty-kawa?”

“Hm? Me? I didn’t do anything at all. If you wanna put the blame on someone it should be on all of you, poor y/n-chan has to deal with so much.”

“Cut the crap, they have to deal with your sorry ass the most.”

a light laugh escaped his lips before he peered down at you once more, brushing stray hairs away from your forehead

“I guess you’re right, in that case i’ll lock up and walk them home when they wake up. I wanna let them rest a little while longer.”

iwaizumi sighed and reluctantly threw him the keys to the gym before leaving with the rest of the team

as soon as the door to the gym was shut, oikawa took a quick glance around to make sure there was no one remaining before leaning down to place a soft kiss on your forehead

he knew that tomorrow he would never hear the end of this, but in that moment he couldn’t care less, he was happy just being there with you

•Kenma•

you loved spending saturdays playing video games with kenma, it was your favorite activity to do after such a long and stressful week

even so, by the end of the week you were drained, and sometimes you got sleepy

especially when kenma began playing a more lowkey game and his sighs of frustration and mumbled strings of curses became absent

silence tended to fall over the room when that was the case, causing your brain to shut down faster then you wanted it to

you sat next to kenma and peered over at his switch, watching with lidded eyes as his character moved about the screen

the colors began to swirl together as you were dragged deeper into sleep

kenma was too focused on the task at hand to notice your sleepy state, let alone the way your head fell ever so gently on his shoulder

after a while he returned his character home and paused the game, handing the switch to you,

“Here Y/N, it’s your turn.”

still feeling the device heavy in his hands he peered down at your sleeping figure, just now realizing why the atmosphere seemed quieter then usual

he froze and a soft blush crept on his face before he set the switch aside

you had fallen asleep on these days before but never so close to him and now he had no idea what to do

he didnt want you to be uncomfortable but he also didnt want to risk waking you up and ruining your much needed sleep

eventually his body moved for him as he crossed one leg under the other and gently moved you so that you were lying down on his thigh

he scrolled through his phone while you slept, mindlessly running his fingers through your hair as his eyes danced along his screen

he knew when you woke there would be a string of apologize falling out of your mouth but he didn’t mind the soft snores that escaped your lips

besides, the two of you had the rest of your lives to play video games together

all he cared about in that moment was that you were taken care of

•Atsumu•

you and atsumu had ate lunch on the roof every friday since the two of you had become friends in middle school

it was a long standing tradition, one that the two of never missed no matter the circumstances

it was peacful, no one else but your friends ever knew so the two of you were never bothered

and it was always a nice way to relax and enjoy each other’s company without having to worry about the twin’s fighting, kita lecturing you about table manners, or suna just being a plain instigator

the two of you typically spent the period laughing and conversing but that particular friday, you lacked the energy to even keep your eyes open, let alone act so lively

your exhaustion was plain to see and definitely gave atsumu some room to poke fun at you,

“Sleepy, aren’t we Y/N? I mean, I can see your under eye bags from here.”

you angrily mumbled something under your breath at the statement before rubbing your eyes in attempt to wake yourself up more

atsumu ruffled your hair and laughed at your antics, throwing a few more snarky comments at you

he returned to his lunch soon enough, continuing the story he was previously retelling before you could throw a fit from your lack of sleep

as he was reaching the end of his tale, he felt his legs being tugged at, jumping a bit at first before he realized your hand was the one attached to his ankle

“Whatcha doin there Y/N?”

you ignored his question, choosing to pull his legs until they were lying straight and settling yourself down to lie in his lap instead

“Tsumu, wake me up before we have to get to class, please.”

as you began to slip out of consciousnesses, atsumu felt his eyes begin to water

if anyone else saw him, they would’ve made fun of him but he couldn’t help himself, he felt so happy that you trusted him enough to be this vulnerable around him

he knew he could be a pain in the ass sometimes but he never felt like a bother when he was around you, you loved him for who he was

it was a miracle you had remained friends with him for so long but as long as you did, he would do his best to make sure that pretty smile always returned to your face

before he could wake you up with his cries, he cleared his throat and began to softly rub your back and he stared out among the trees,

“No problem Y/N, you can count on me.”

•Terushima•

you had practically got on your hands and knees and begged terushima to help you study for your upcoming exam

he was one of the smartest people you knew and with how awful you were with the subject the test was on, it would’ve be a crime not to ask him for help

luckily for you, when you timidly asked for his help, he agreed to take some time out of his day to tutor you this week

which is why you felt awful once your thoughts beginning to haze and your eyes began to grow heavy

you couldn't even pay attention to the anxiety that had previously been gnawing away at you, let alone whatever the hell terushima was going on about

in your defense, school was absolutely exhausting today and you didn’t expect yourself to be this out of it by the time you arrived at terushima’s house

he noticed your fatigue right away, he way your head swayed back and forth as if you were in a daze was hard to miss

his first instinct was to laugh at how adorable you were but he chose to take a more gentle approach to the situation,

“You alright there, baby? We can take a break if you need one.”

you shook your head and gripped your pencil tighter, trying your best to copy down notes without falling face first into your text book

he smirked and playfully rolled his eyes before sliding more notes in your direction,

“Suit yourself.”

not even ten minutes after you expressed your determination to the boy, terushima felt a weight fall onto his shoulder

he let out a chuckle at your unconscious state, knowing that this was soon to come

he wrapping an arm around your shoulder and carefully pulled you down onto the bedroom floor with him, comfortably repositioning you

in this new position, your head was on his chest, one of his arms wrapped around your torso while the other sat comfortably behind his head

“If you were tired, you could have just told me.”

although he knew you could hear him, the words left his mouth in a whisper before pulling you close and closing his own eyes

in all honesty, he didn’t mind this series of events, just happy to have you here with him

and besides, this gave him an excuse to schedule another study date

•Tendou•

carnivals and fairs came to your town quite often and every time they did, tendou loved to bring you along

the two of you had loved to go ever since you were little kids so the memories it brought back was enough of a reason to blow your money on tickets and food

it was a chance of the two of you to forget about any worry or zees and just let yourself be kids again

and to tendou, it was always worth seeing the smile on your face as you glanced around at the scenery, eyes gleaming under the flashing lights

as much fun as they were, he knew how much they tired you out

every time the two of you ran off to one, he always ended up taking you inside at the end of the night and helping you through your nightly routine, but he didn’t mind this in the slightest

he was happy to help and besides, you were the clingiest when you were on the brink of sleep, which he found absolutely adorable

“Y/N, did you have fun tonight, hm?”

he took a glimpse of you in the passenger seat before returning his eyes to the rode ahead, one hand on the steering wheel and the other settled comfortably on your leg

mind clouded with sleep, you took the hand that sat on your knee and held it in yours, examining the polish you had painted on them earlier that week through blurry vision,

“Mhm.”

tendou took another glance at you before grinning at your tired state,

“I’m glad, i had lots of fun too! We’ll have to bring Ushiwaka next time, he’s never been to one of those-“

before he could finish his sentence, he felt his hand being hugged to your chest

turning his head to the side once more, he realized you had curled up on the passenger seat and were now fast asleep, cuddling his arm as if it was a stuffed animal

a laugh escaped his lips at how quick you were to drift off to your dream land

as his eyes focused on the dimly lit pavement, he admired how sweet your display of affection was, feeling your love spread throughout his entire body

he slowed his speed, careful not to hit any bumps or holes on the way home in fear of waking you

once the two of you got to his house, he gently carried picked you up and carried you inside, setting you on his bed as soon as he stepped though the door

before he could grab a blanket and head to the couch, your arms found their way around his torso as you buried your face into his chest before drifting back into your deep sleep

a smile spread across his face before placed a kiss on the top of your head and carefully lying down next to you, allowing himself to close his eyes and enjoy this moment with you

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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hauntedelation · 3 years

Text

Repeat

Description - The Hammer proves to utilize surprising ways to settle down after a rough assignment.

Pairing - Black Male Reader x August Walker

A/N - This is my first male reader insert and AW fic! I wasn't sure how I should write the man but I found my August to be a little unpredictable, maybe hard. (Maybe he has some feelings, but he won't tell you what kind.)

Word Count - 2.4k

Warnings - descriptions of blood, wound tending and cleaning, anxiety, surprise fluff and maybe pining? Just partners being partners.

(no real proofreading this time y'all sorry 😅)

⊱ ───────────── ⊰

What he applied to your hand forced a pitiful sound from your body, something like a whimper subdued poorly by you.

By the sickly fluorescent light you can see it, the split that was the palm of your hand. Crimson upon crimson flooded the tissue, renewing again.

Your insides overturned, and for the first time in your career you averted your eyes. You had to. For a reason you couldn't place your finger on, you knew you shouldn't stare.

The way your pulse was working more warm liquid out of your hand, his fingers stained and slipping back and forth to tend, you felt unsteady.

The spaces in your mind were gradually being occupied. So there was no shortage, no problem taking your mind off of it.

You went back to that first mistake, back to where you foolishly under-packed. This assignment was far, but a swift turnaround. Accordingly, you thought it good to keep the amount of bags you carried to a minimum.

A good number of things were left, a tool here and there that didn't stand out. You had done it before. One notch carved into the wood and you were null of any mistakes up until this point.

What you couldn't grasp was that these absent devices were the key to this assignment. It hit like a ton of bricks the moment you were met with the complex screen of a security lock.

You were deflated when your eyes met the empty space of what could have been the bypass key. There you spent upwards of an hour working through the perimeter of the place.

The next one could have happened regardless, but it didn't make you feel less inept.

Where you went right when you should have gone left. The opponent you met was just as trained as you were: blank, unrelenting and practiced with a blade. You fell to a place where you were at a strident disadvantage.

Would you have picked your jugular or your hand? There had to have been something better, a third choice? You should have been faster than that.

You could have.

Still, your hand caught the edge and it wasn't until much later, long after you were walking away that you could feel heat trickling down your fingers.

It's like the movies until it isn't. You've got yourself thrumming, high from the situation. You're locked in and can take anything to your vessel, then you're coming down slow. All the little details enter your mind, focusing and you notice. He noticed, actually.

With the most austere set of eyes you had ever seen, he did.

Before you were given the chance to sit down he was standing over you, breath hot and charged from the brawl. On the top of your head you could feel it. The fabric of his suit was torn and twisted over his chest, rising and falling with his loosened tie.

He'd backed you to one of the steel tables, squinting through the dim and the dark. You had in mind that you were to be spit in the face, condemned for dragging the job to left-field. The glower had already been there.

You were bracing for it, balling both of your hands. The blunt object in your fingers collided with the brick floor. And it rang out, filling the empty spaces with a loud echo. Soon there was nothing.

That's how it was seconds after.

A pair of boots brushed against yours before there was a hand capturing your right arm. He'd brought your dripping palm up and opened your curled fingers. Your wound was inspected with cautious eyes, the extent picked apart.

His calluses dragged around the edges of your sticky palm. You sucked in a breath when he had gone a little too close, but he ignored it. There was a drilling leer into your face before he spoke, "You were sloppy."

The back of your throat had grown bone dry. You took a second, swallowing then pulling your eyes from his hardened face.

That had been the first time that you'd been told that. Knowing in the very depths of you that this was the beginning to many months of second guessing, wishing you could have done better.

You don't know why you had let this one go. Everything seemed feasible in the documents, from the time requirement to the objectives. You expected to have gone above and beyond.

That is close to what you told Sloane all those weeks ago,

⊱ ───────────── ⊰

"This one looks like it's going to be less of an issue."

She had her arms crossed in her crisp sleeves, her hip propped against the hardwood of her desk. You were called in to provide an updated report over your assignment, your feelings and projection.

It had gone to the point where you could no longer count on your fingers how many jobs you'd been on. The second anniversary from your first day recently passed, the bouquet still sitting on your dining room table.

You recall being introduced to your boss, the gratification in seeing someone like her in such an esteemed position.

(Someone who reminded you of your mother at times.)

Right then, the woman appeared to be getting ready to give a critical reply. Her brow was curled sharply but you could see the corners of her lips begin to upturn.

"You have been assigned an associate with this task, agent."

This was of no particular issue. It was not every mission that you collaborated with another. Be that as it may, you've grown accustomed to this practice, it evolved into something that you improved with. This was your dream, and you intended to flourish.

You were sure there was no one you wouldn't be able to work with.

When your superior uttered the name, 'Walker,' you had asked her to come again.

"You're up and coming, still figuring things out in this line of work. I'm placing you with my best on this one," Sloane announced.

You withheld any signs of protest in front of her, flashing professional countenance and a nod. She dismissed you with a lingering gaze, most likely holding the same thing in her mind as you were. You kept up the front until you were situated at the chair by your desk.

Upon your back touching the seat, a sigh was released, one that you felt in the pit of your stomach.

You wanted to smile at how comical his name sounded. One would have thought you were speaking about an exotic dancer, The Hammer. You didn't think it fit at first.

He's just a man, but he is the kind that exceeded the weight behind his title. He had discharged far more in his profession by the time you were approaching yours, taking the limits of what an agent could do to the stratosphere.

You could wax poetic about those stories, try to recount those details. But, truthfully there had been such a divide in your experience when compared to his. You could feel the pricks of uncertainty in your chest.

Perhaps you were only afraid.

He'd never once acknowledged your existence until you met on the tarmac the following Tuesday morning. The moon was leaving the twilight sky. Under an orange colored light, shining on the side of his face you could see him check his watch.

And then those eyes flicked over to you, sizing up your bags, your clothes. You think you may have even caught those blue slits drag along certain parts of you.

Your voice was weak, coughing low in your throat you tried to press out, "It's nice to finally meet, Mr. Walker."

(Ah, Mr Walker? You wanted to flinch, but you found no time.)

Then you provided him your name with a reluctant hand. It took far more composure on not showing the tremor in your limb but when the man peered down at you, securing your hand with a firm shake you knew.

He'd felt how clammy your skin was.

That mustache made a microscopic twitch, "Call me August, and, ditto."

⊱ ───────────── ⊰

You allowed your hand to remain elevated, but your period of self-loathing was eventually disturbed.

The sensation of his large hands appeared, firm and wrapping around your waist before hoisting you on the surface of the steel table. There was a soft thud from your good hand landing to bear your shift in weight.

It was then that you froze, ears pricking to that steady footfall departing from the table.

You listen and—what?

What crosses your mind is maybe you hit your head back there, sometime during taking that grunt to the floor. Yet, you don't feel anything, no pounding in your skull. The musing is washed away the moment the flicker of a pale-green light shines above.

The room is revealed to have been an abandoned kitchen of sorts. Pots and pans layered in a thin veil of dust with more grime to compliment. With your good hand you wipe at the sweat falling down your temple, you'd become a little hot.

Glass crumbles underneath his boots, he rotates his back around to you with a small kit that strongly resembles the one you stored in your bag.

The white plastic had your name scrawled on there in your handwriting. While you could sit there wondering how August retrieved that, you are still processing the way the man picked you up. How he brought you up like you were made of feathers. Why he…

He comes in real close, your vision floods with a view of his chest, his gloved hands shedding away the garment and laying them on the metal surface.

The soft click of the first aid box click echoes out, and under the hum of the lights above August murmurs down to you,

"At least you had enough sense to pack this."

His tone is the same, puncturing only not quite as breathy. The rise and fall of his chest had slowed far more, the dark curls on his chest soaking in the sweat running down his skin. And you blink, not realizing how enthralling the sight is.

Your pulsing hand is taken again, gingerly, by a pair of rough hands. You brace yourself on the edge of the table upon seeing the clear liquid bottle.

He's cleaning your wound throughly and you're trying not to take it like a kicked puppy. Through grit teeth, "You think I could skip stitches this time?" They never were your favorite.

"No dice," he breaths out, placing the bottle of alcohol down next to your thigh.

"You about had your hand sliced in half, Agent. You're lucky anyway. But,"

The needle and thread is pulled out, more cleansing and draining. Rinse and repeat. Walker was moving quickly, probably sensing the adrenaline in you draining by the minute.

Your communication devices buzz in unison, you don't have time to check your screen for any updates before he reaches with one hand in his pocket to retrieve his.

He sets your hand down on your own thigh and you listen to his voice shift to a formal tone. The female voice on the other line, (Sloane most likely) sounds curt and questioning.

Your stomach begins to roll in circles. Your fingers wrapped around the table's edge tighten around the metal, almost enough to leave marks.

Through those training sessions all those months, you learned to properly squash any threats of anxiety, distraction. You could feel yourself slipping, your body seizing up in front of the man. Walker seemed to have been approaching the height of his conversation with your boss, shifting so the phone rests between his ear and shoulder.

In the meantime, you were breathing. That familiar rhythm, flowing in and out, counting. You fall into the headspace that you became acquainted with all too well.

You lost yourself in it, not realizing that Walker was dissolving Sloane's interrogation. Every syllable. The way in which his voice formed the words was unknowingly steadying your brain, calming your heart rate down slowly.

All the while taking your wounded hand was taken in his, he set about cleaning it one more time before starting to close it with the thread.

"Yes ma'am. No, he had everything in his detail under control...Yes. That's correct. The only slip up had been breaching the security wall but we successfully infiltrated."

You could feel the sharp pricks in your skin, your arm tensing after each pull to the string when closing the wound. Eventually Walker drifted, and your eyes landed on the semi-clean criss cross stitching in the palm of your hand.

The man's eyes were dead set on his handiwork, narrowing on the lines before clearing his throat to part ways with your boss. There was a, "We will report back upon leaving this location."

He hung up the phone, and slid the device next to your thigh. You didn't think anything of it, only Walker's hand didn't leave where his phone was sitting. And you were encircled, the fabric of his shirt practically enticing his body closer to yours.

It had been a number of seconds before you could bring yourself back. The same exercise was reaching its tail end, and maybe, just maybe you could believe Sloane would not chew you a new one when you return.

Those words, It's okay, you tried your best. Everyone has bad days. You said them once again, inaudible and only in your mind. The room at this point only held the echo of the cars outside, Walker's heavy boots shifting before—

His fingertips were cold against your jaw, you almost jumped away from him. You should have, what was he doing? His thigh brushed so light against your knee, and when he guided your eyes up, you saw him already peering at your damp face.

Everything about the man's face was blank. Thick brows, lips hidden under a bushy trail of hair, all set in a firm line. You made no attempt to divert, you weren't sure he would let you. You had been planted there, decided by him your next move would be included.

Then those words fell silent.

His fingertips pushed up your jaw, against the grain of your facial hair growing there. Then you felt him cup your cheek, strong hands dragging along your skin.

Walker used his thumb to brush against your temple, wiping away something sticky. Red tint coated the little grooves in his skin and he pulled away, wiping his digit on the material of your pants. His tone was far more entertained then,

"Looks like you hit your head back there."

⊱ ───────────── ⊰

Taglist - @mansaaay @hope-to-hell @feralrunaway @thetaoofzoe @luclittlepond @madbaddic7ed @brandycranby @emyearns

⊱ ───────────── ⊰

#August Walker x Reader #Male reader #Black reader #henry cavill x reader #Henry Cavill fluff #Repeat #henry cavill x black reader #henry cavill x black!reader

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justaniche · 3 years

Note

Hey! I’m dying for more Daxton. I seriously can’t wait for season 2. Can you write something about Nalini realizing Paxton is good for Devi? Like he takes care of her/protects her and helps her deal with her trauma

Thanks!!

Hi!

omg let me say first, anon, thank you for this ask. youre the first person to take me up on my offer to write stuff for you so thank you again.

A little bit about this writing piece before I actually show it to you, there was a point when I was writing it when I wasn’t sure if it was going to reach 1K words but there was a point where the words just start to flow and I can proudly say it is 2.1K and that is not a lot but based on what I thought it was going to end up being it has come along way. and this is one of my first-ish never have I ever work of writing. I think it’s the first I’ve written entirely off the top of my head. My other ones are either not posted or it’s my work inspired by the episodes and its just everything through Paxton‘s point of view so it’s a bit different.

this is getting sort of long so anyway, without further ado. here it is. I hope you enjoy it, please let me know what you think and if you like it please feel free to send me another!

Nalini had just about had it. The day’s raging dumpster fire began with traffic that resulted in her being late to work. If that wasn’t bad enough, a patient she saw a couple days ago came back complaining that her treatment caused a breakout. After a follow-up, she discovered the patient hadn’t changed any of their habits despite her advice! So was it really the treatment, or the fact that they don’t wash their face? All that suffices to say when Nalini got home she was already on a very short fuse. Kamala was out for school and let her family know she wouldn’t be home for dinner so it was known by both Devi and Nalini that they would be cooking without her today. Nalini gave Devi specific instructions so that, regardless of how late her day ran, they could have dinner at a reasonable time. Devi did not follow those instructions. Nalini came home to the door unlocked, closed but unlocked, the house a mess, and Devi’s part of dinner not made. No matter how many breaths she took, Nalini was mad. No, mad didn’t quite cover it. She silently walked up the stairs, hell-bent on seeing what caused this disaster, and if she didn’t like the reason she planned to riff for the rest of the night. But approaching Devi’s door she found it ajar. She peeked inside, and that's where she found them.

After winning his swim meet, Paxton was on top of the world. The school day had been what it tended to be, light. Filled with class and hanging with his friends in the hotpocket. But that was hours ago. It was early evening when he saw her, Devi Vishwakumar, they had sort of become friends over recent weeks but given the up and down nature of their relationship, Paxton was always very aware of her. Devi had a way of grabbing Paxton’s attention. He was always trying to figure her out. Of course she made a hell of a first impression, first couple of impressions actually. Devi was sorely different from anyone else in his circle and Paxton wasn’t yet sure how he felt about the sudden invasion. He pretended he didn’t but after unintentionally watching her Paxton began to notice Devi’s change in mood sometimes. Like right now, from where Paxton was he saw the set of her shoulders. The tension was apparent as Devi stalked across the school grounds. Confusion flooded Paxton’s mind and before another thought could register, he was jogging towards her.

“ Hey, Vishwakumar, wait up! ” He called towards her but she didn’t stop

Devi cast a look over her shoulder, her voice was muffled when she spoke, “Uh, Hi Paxton, I can’t talk.” her voice cracks, “I’m in a bit of a rush.”

Paxton slows down for a second as he takes in the situation, Devi speeds up.

“Are you okay?”

Devi breaks into a dead sprint and Paxton doesn’t think, he just follows.

Devi was doing okay. Today was harder than most for a reason she couldn’t name but Devi was making it through. That was until last period art class. The teacher gave a simple assignment, and that was to paint your happiest memory. Immediately when the words left his mouth, a memory came flooding into Devi's mind like a tidal wave.

Devi was 8 when her father convinced her mother that going to a Californian beach as a family would be an adventure. Devi barely remembers the build-up, it was a haze of packing sandwiches and equipment. Leaving the house, only to discover something had been forgotten. A car ride that seemed to stretch into forever. But the beach was magnificent. At least it was in Devi’s memory. It was a gloomy day, the threat of rain looming, so the beach’s visitors were far and few in between. Devi remembers that feeling of warm sand under her feet. She remembers those first fragile steps into the tide, only to rush back as the ocean crashed forward chasing her back to shore. She could see her mom, in the distance, setting up their makeshift camp for the day. She was more content watching her family than participating. The ocean was vast and blue and terrifying. Devi could not urge herself to take more than a few steps. Devi doesn’t know how her dad saw her distress but it was like he could read her mind. He grabbed her and lifted her high then settled Devi on his shoulders. He insisted that she was safe there, she was too high for the ocean to ever reach. He held her hand as he walked slowly but confidently further into the waves. He stopped just as the water kissed her mid-calf but it was enough. From way up here, with her father by her side, the ocean wasn’t anything to fear, it was something to marvel at.

Devi had a firm picture in her mind of her happiest memory and it was her family’s adventure at the beach. But Devi couldn’t make a move to make this image a reality. Sadness crept up on her and got a vice grip on her heart. Her vision blurred and she couldn’t breathe. How had she ever breathed before? Was it always this hard? The bell rang, signaling the end of the day but Devi was on autopilot. Eleanor and Fabiola felt miles away, whenever they’d focus in the daze of her mind, the grip on her heart tightened and dragged her back to darkness. Devi doesn’t know if she said goodbye to her best friends,

She blinked, band began

She inhaled, band was over

She stood, the sun was setting

She gazed, the stress stiffened her movements as she walked around campus. Where was she headed?

Devi was desperate for light, for clarity.

“ Hey, Vishwakumar, wait up! ” The sudden noise broke the muddle, if only for now, she was again aware of the devastation and loss weighing on her mind and on her heart.

She recognized that voice and it was getting closer, she glanced over her shoulder. Paxton, no no no, she didn’t want anyone to see this least of all her newest and most popular friend, “Uh, Hi Paxton, I can’t talk.” Why was her voice cracking? “I’m in a bit of a rush.”

Devi finally knew where she wanted to go as she increased her speed.

“Are you okay?” Paxton’s question was the final straw, she couldn’t stop her tears and they fell uncontrollably past her cheeks. Paxton was going to catch up, and Devi was crumbling by the second. So Devi did the only thing she could. She ran, ignoring the echo of the beating steps behind her.

Nalini could hardly comprehend the scene playing in front of her. Devi, her only child, her entire world, looked so small folded up on the floor in front of her bed. Devi was always so strong, with a personality larger than life. She always seemed bigger than her stature, always taking up more space. Nalini's anger from the day deflates, leaving no trace it was ever there to begin with. Nalini tears her eyes away from the form of her daughter to take in the room. It was dark but the other figure inhabiting the room was clear as day. Paxton sat before Devi, his body language soft. He had one hand on the arms Devi wrapped around herself as he spoke to her gently. Paxton’s volume was soft as a whisper, any louder would shatter the delicate atmosphere. Witnessing this scene felt like a secret and the longer Nalini stood there the guiltier she felt. Devi never expressed emotions this deeply to her. Everyday problems with her friends or tests or Ben Gross, yes. But Devi never shared this.

Nalini's mind was going a million miles an hour as he crept back down the steps and began cooking dinner. She knew Devi would refuse but she needed to have something ready, just in case. When everything was mostly done, she was quiet as she moved around the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the meal. Nalini knew he was trying to walk silently but she still caught Paxton as he descended the steps. Nalini kept her back to him as she called, giving Paxton an out if he needed.

“Paxton?”

“Um...yes, Hi Mrs. Vishwakumar” at the acknowledgment, Nalini felt comfortable enough to turn around.

Paxton was standing in the doorway, shuffling in obvious discomfort. What he expected her to say she didn’t know. Gods, neither did Nalini. Questions flew through her mind faster than she could catch them. She didn’t want to ask him about what happened, Nalini wanted Devi to share when, if, she was ready. Nalini realized, amongst these questions, that she didn’t know Paxton. Here was this kid, late in the evening comforting her daughter. She couldn’t even be upset that they were home alone when she recalled how broken Devi looked. All Nalini had done thus far was judge Paxton, he looked like a jock so she thought him dumb. She made these assumptions about him, that he’d peak in high school or that he was shallow or that he was a walking STI, but they were just that. Assumptions. This kid stayed with her daughter for she didn’t even know how long, she’d been cooking for close to an hour so it was at least that.

All these guesses and judgments were useless when she stood in front of him. Paxton had a rigid set to his limbs, Nalini thought it was probably from sitting in one position for so long, and he was still dressed in gym clothes. Paxton looked new in Nalini’s eyes and she regretted never wanting to know him before now. Nalini didn’t know where to begin, she wondered if he’d eaten.

“Would you like something to eat?” Nalini's silent prayer must’ve been heard because he accepted. She was being given another chance. She quickly worked around the familiar space, grabbing one of the good containers and piling more food than necessary, successfully straining the unyielding plastic. She was handing the meal over when she paused, they both had a hand on the object between them but Nalini couldn’t let go, not yet.

“Thank you, Paxton, really, I don’t know what happened and I won’t ask but I saw what you did for Devi.” Paxton had the decency to look a little shocked. He hadn’t heard anything. Paxton was too absorbed before. His mind was a broken record repeating only, Devi.

The moment shatters when the front door opened, “I’m home!” Kamala’s voice fills the silent home. With the trance broken, Nalini’s hold on the container falters and she drops her hand allowing Paxton to leave. Words were failing him so all Paxton could give was a tightlipped smile in response.

“Thanks for the dinner.” Paxton’s smile was looser now and that gave Nalini courage.

Kamala was unloaded the day around her but Nalini was focused on making this right, “You’re welcome to come by Paxton, anytime.” She could only hope Paxton knew just how much she meant those words. His smile was burdened but bright, he nodded strongly and then he was out the door.

Kamala was fixing the table for a very late dinner when she called for Devi to join, Nalini hoped she would. “Who was that? And why was he here so late?” Pure curiosity laced Kamala’s voice.

“Paxton is one of Devi’s friends. He’s a good kid.”

Those details were all she could provide before Devi came bouncing down the steps. Nalini couldn’t be sure if it was the fact of what she saw or reality but Devi’s movements looked heavier than they normally were.

“What’s up guys?” Devi’s voice feigned casualness, “Dang mom, isn’t it late for a thousand-course meal?” She questioned as she took in the lack of clear surfaces on the dinner table.

Nalini just brushed it off, indicating for everyone to take a seat. “So how was everyone’s day?”

Nalini wasn’t looking for Devi to share but this was her family. She would always want to hear how they were, plus it was tradition. As they consumed insane amounts of food they were bound to regret eating this late at night, everything felt so normal and easy. But something had shifted in Nalini today and even though it was new and she was scared to death of this person entering Devi’s life with the propensity to hurt her. Nalini can’t say she minded too much because it was Paxton. He had proven himself worthy of a chance, and Nalini wouldn’t soon forget it.

#devi x paxton #devi vishwakumar #netflix original #never have i ever #never have i ever netflix #paxton hall yoshida #nhie #nhie netflix #ben gross #eleanor wong #fabiola torres #daxton #daxton fic #nhie season 1 #nhie fic #anonymous #anon ask #fanfic

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hephaestuscrew · 3 years

Text

Minkowski's Position as Commander: An Attempted Analysis

TLDR: Increasingly as the show progresses, Minkowski's role as Commanding Officer of the Hephaestus is not about the position given her by Goddard but is instead about a choice that she and her crew continually make.

At the start of the series, Minkowski very much believes that she derives her authority from the position given her by Goddard Futuristics. It's clear that this military chain of command is really important to her. For example, when Hilbert attempts to leave Minkowski to die in space, the main thing she says to try to persuade him to let her in is:

This is treason. This is a betrayal of your commanding officer.

[CONTINUED BELOW THE CUT]

It's quite revealing that Minkowski thinks that military protocol / her role as Commanding Officer provides the most powerful reason for Hilbert not to kill her, even though he has known her for nearly two years and they have generally been on quasi-friendly terms.

After Hilbert's Christmas mutiny (and to a certain extent even before that), the Hephaestus crew know that Command cannot be trusted. The authority that initially conferred a position of power onto Minkowski has lied to them all and is actively malicious. So past that point, Minkowski's status as Commander isn't really determined by the fact that Goddard Futuristics gave her that position, because the crew have no reason to obey Goddard anymore. The basis of her authority no longer comes from Goddard, but more from a kind of unspoken agreement that someone needs to be in charge and it ought to be her. As rebellious as Eiffel and Hera both are, neither of them actually question Minkowski's status as Commanding Officer. It's true that they often don't obey her orders, but when they go against what she's said, it is with a conscious sense that they are disobeying not just another crew member, but their commanding officer.

The next major wrench to be thrown at Minkowski's Commander status is the arrival of Lovelace, who is arguably more qualified to be Commander than Minkowski. Not only has Lovelace commanded the Hephaestus herself (and for a longer period of time than Minkowski has), her title of Captain outranks Minkowski's title of Lieutenant. In Lovelace and Minkowski's power struggle after Lovelace's arrival, they are both coming from a perspective of "I was here first". Lovelace commanded that ship first, but Minkowski commanded that crew first and that ultimately gives her more power. Minkowski remains the Commander of the Hephaestus because the crew know her and trust her.

Eventually Lovelace comes to trust Minkowski too and to view her as the rightful Commander of the Hephaestus. In S3 and S4, she often backs up Minkowski's authority and tells the others that they ought to follow Minkowski's orders.

When Kepler shows up, there's a new official Commanding Officer of the Hephaestus. The si-5 declare that Minkowski is stripped of the title of Commander. Of course, I couldn't write this post without mentioning this iconic exchange:

EIFFEL I'm glad to see you too, Commander.

MINKOWSKI You heard the new boss, you don't need to call me that anymore.

EIFFEL Uh, yeah, they can go screw themselves. The entire universe will freeze before you're not the Commander of the Hephaestus.

Minkowski is ready to accept that she's no longer the Commander, because a part of her still thinks leadership is determined by the official chain of command. But Eiffel doesn't accept that. And he's not the only one who still acknowledges Minkowski as leader despite the arrival of the SI-5. Although her programming prevents her from addressing Minkowski as Commander, Hera believes that:

Lieutenant Minkowski's still the one who gives the marching orders.

Throughout Season 3, there's the sense of a crew-within-a-crew on the Hephaestus. Sure, Kepler is officially the overall commanding officer, but to Eiffel, Hera, Lovelace and even Hilbert to a certain extent, Minkowski is their true leader. Even though Lovelace and Hilbert do go behind Minkowski's back, they still seem to have a sense that a mutiny ought to have her Say So.

Another interesting element is that, in the eyes of Command, Minkowski was never the highest ranking crew member on the Hephaestus. Kepler confirms this in Ep48 when he says that the "Highest ranking member of each crew was briefed on the possibility" of a Theta scenario and that for both Hephaestus missions that was Hilbert. To Goddard Futuristics, Minkowski was the Commander in name only.

The Hephaestus crew (by which I mean everyone except the si-5) treat leadership as something official and codified, but not as something conferred by external authority. They follow a policy where one person has to be clearly designated as the Commander, but where Goddard Futuristics does not determine who that person is. This approach is displayed in Ep47 when Minkowski asks Lovelace to take over command of the Hephaestus. Minkowski's status as Commander is proved to have been a choice, because she can also choose not to be Commander. This choice is a personal one. There's no military protocol involved, just a discussion between two friends and the handing over of a title.

It's also worth noting Lovelace's reluctance to take over the role of commanding officer and her insistence that this is a temporary arrangement. Her reaction demonstrates how much she has come to see Minkowski as the rightful Commander. S2 Lovelace would have responded very differently.

When Minkowski becomes Commander again in Ep53, she has another conversation which reveals a lot about her attitude towards leadership. I'm just going to put the whole long quote here because I think it's all very relevant to what I've been talking about:

MINKOWSKI It's just... there's been all these times when somebody put me in situation where I was "in charge," but I wasn't... in control. I can't think of a decision in my life that wasn't already determined by someone else. But... even then, there was always a choice. I always made it. Even when I didn't realize I was making it. So now... I think I need to make choices by myself. For myself.

LOVELACE Aaaaand does that mean you're perhaps ready to take command of a certain space station again?...

MINKOWSKI No. Because I've never been in command, I can't retake it. But, if you'll allow me, sir, I would be honored to relieve you of your duties, and assume command of the U.S.S. Hephaestus Station.

Lovelace SMILES, and salutes Minkowski.

LOVELACE About friggin' time, sir.

Here it's made explicit that the question of Minkowski's status as Commander is tied into themes of choice and responsibility and control over one's own life. Minkowski recognises that her starting the Hephaestus mission as Commander was a choice made for her by Goddard (this is especially true because Minkowski applied to be just a Navigations Officer, not a Commander). Her continuing to be Commander was a choice, but it didn't feel like one to her at the time. To some extent, it was a choice she made passively (although I think her crew actively chose to follow her).

This conversation shows how Minkowski's view of leadership has changed dramatically. At the beginning of the series, she probably would have said that Goddard's choice to designate her Commander was what made her a Commander. She probably would have said that was how leadership ought to be determined. But by Ep53, she no longer wants to be dependent on the decisions of others to decide her role. Being Commander is not only a choice, it is now a choice she makes consciously and independently. She doesn't really have any more control over their circumstances when she retakes command in Ep53 than she did before handing over command in Ep47. Nonetheless her decision to make active choices for herself is still a significant one, because it reflects a paradigm shift.

Of course, there is some cruel irony in the fact that very soon after this conversation Minkowski is put under Pryce's mind control. Sometimes the choice to take control of our lives is taken away. Notably though, Eiffel still calls her Commander when she's not even able to command her own actions. And when she does regain her autonomy, she automatically assumes command of a new crew-within-a-crew (Eiffel, Hera, Lovelace, and Jacobi).

Cutter recognises how important Minkowski's role as Commander is to her. In the finale, he tells her:

People cared about you because of what I made you: A soldier. A leader. A commander. I gave you that

But I would argue that this isn't true. Yes, it was Cutter who initially gave Minkowski the title of "Commander", but that was never what made her a leader. Goddard never saw Minkowski as a leader. They saw her as a tool. She became a leader in her own right because she strived to do the right thing for her crew and because her crew trusted her to lead them.

For a final example of how important Minkowski's role as Commander is to her, here's what she says to reintroduce herself to Eiffel after the memory wipe:

Hi. My name is Renée Minkowski. I'm the Commander of this space station.

At this point, Minkowski knows that the space station in question is not going to exist for much longer. She knows its been a long time since Goddard would have said she was the Commanding Officer of the Hephaestus in any sense. And yet, the second thing she wants Eiffel to know about her is that she is the Commander. She asks him to call her Renée, but she still wants him to view her as a commanding officer. This makes sense when we recognise that the trust of her crew - and of Eiffel in particular - has been the essential foundation of her status as Commander after the foundation from Goddard fell away.

Throughout the course of Wolf 359, with the various revelations about Command and with the arrivals of Lovelace, the si-5 and eventually Cutter & Co., the official reasons to classify Minkowski as the Hephaestus' commanding officer are eroded. But Minkowski still ends the show as a Commander. She's the one who decides whether they are going to stay and try to stop Cutter's plan (the others recognise that it's up to her even when they disagree with her initial decision to leave without trying to fight Cutter). Lovelace calls her Commander even after the Hephaestus is gone. Minkowski represents the ship when speaking to Earthspace ATC. And she's the one who finally brings the crew home.

#I swear this was gonna be a short post but I got carried away and wrote an essay #And there's still so much more to say!!#As ever feel free to add on or let me know your thoughts #I just think the way that leadership is portrayed in w359 is super interesting #Like Minkowski's leadership is not democratic exactly #but it is somewhat determined by the crew in a way that doesn't fit with standard military protocol #renee minkowski #renée minkowski #wolf 359 #w359 #the empty man posteth #Wolf 359 meta #W359 meta

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haztory · 3 years

Note

hello hello ! first, congratulations on 300 !! and if you are still taking requests, may i request the angst dialouge “Can you look at me? Please?” with nanami ? thank you & keep up the wonderful work !! :)

“Can you look at me? Please?” from my writing event! (come request something)

warnings: angst, only angst

nanami kento x gn reader

“Tilt your head upwards,” Two fingers prod against your chin, gentle yet firm pressure lifting your face and pressing a wet cloth onto the surface of your cheekbone.

It stings, worse than any regular cut that splits the skin. The wound having been laced and imbued with a cursed poison, the kind that simultaneously numbs and burns the surrounding area. Given only when you were taken off guard, caught too hastily in your preoccupation with the man currently standing in front of you instead of the fight at hand.

A foolish mistake on your part— one you understand the gravity of quite thoroughly, even without the disapproving stares and the extended periods of silence that weigh heavily onto you, imparted by the stoic man and impromptu healer.

Nanami halts his movement, his hand hovering over the injury, and his dark eyes— laced entirely too much with dismay— flicker quickly towards yours, of which you pointedly avoid.

He waits, silent in his plaguing stare that truthfully discomforts you more than the injury itself; He waits for your sighs of pain to subside, waits for you to meet his gaze. Waits for you to understand that behind the neutrality of his stature and the calmness of his demeanor as he led you back from the mission and into the sanctity of his office at the school, lies a brewing lecture of turmoil and overwhelming disappointment.

You didn’t have to look at him to know that, though.

“Are you alright?” He asks after a minute of heavy silence fills the space of the room. He towers over your seated body, feeling miles away in superiority and physicality despite being right in front of you, his hands touching your face and your knee placed between his open legs. He couldn’t be any closer, not with the rich musk of his cologne swirling around you and the heat of him transferring itself onto you.

And yet, you couldn’t feel further from him.

“Yeah,” keeping your eyes downturned, you mutter lowly, “‘m fine.”

His hand lowers and with it he drops the rag onto the surface of the table. He sighs, the weight of his stress and the exhaustion from the mission exhaling into the air, settling heavily on top of the already apparent displeasure with the situation.

With you.

You can only push your head down farther and slink away from the expanse of his body in some feeble effort to minimize the extent of your burden on him, even if you may have had good intentions upon doing so.

If only you hadn’t gotten distracted; If only you remembered that out of the two of you, he was the more qualified sorcerer. There was no need to be so concerned for the likes of his safety, especially not when your own was so intensely threatened in that moment. If only you hadn’t turned your head, yelled his name, pleaded for him to move—

“(Y/N),” Nanami says, voice soft and silky yet still. Foundational. A pillar that pushes itself into the whirlwind of your thoughts and refuses to budge, forcing you to acknowledge it. To acknowledge him and the depth of the irreparable impression you’ve made on him.

You can hear his words before he even says it, forced to sit with the impeding knowledge of the fate of this conversation and take the daggers of despair that will no doubt pierce every part of your fragile heart as he points out the obvious mistake you made. Droles on about how imperative it is to keep business and feelings separate.

Reminds you of the vow he made upon becoming a sorcerer.

Why couldn’t you have just—

“Can you look at me?”

You can’t.

You can’t have him see that as much as he may be disappointed in you, you are even more so disappointed in yourself. Understanding full and well what your mistake means, even if it is something as simple as a cut on the cheek. You can’t have him see and confirm the large crack that has been made in the solid wall of duty to your occupation that can no longer be reversed.

If you look at him, if you so much as make eye contact with him, he will know the weakness that you possess, the disadvantage you carry with you into every mission. The sharp Achilles heel that has made itself abundantly clear before the two of you and every cursed spirit that saw you stumble.

Nanami Kento, in whatever fashion he may exist, has the entirety of your attention in the palm of his hand and the cool swing of his arm. And try as you might devote your focus to any matter at hand, you can never successfully win the battle in keeping him out of your thoughts.

Nanami Kento is the root of your mistake and the inevitable reason behind your downfall. You’ve known it for far too long, and now, he does too. A prophecy in the making, a tragic tale playing its beginning notes before you that’s too sweet for you to try and end.

But he will.

He will know of the taint in your commitment to this life, the compromise of your duty and the manner in which he plays an active part in it, and he will remove it in the name of safety.

Dread fills your stomach.

“Please?” He tries again, quieter this time.

Soft yet firm, comforting, and wrapped in the linen of silk. Lined with the scent of his musk and coated entirely in a sweet, dripping concoction that refreshed you with one word alone. The sweetest of tones that have your heart accelerating with the single word alone.

You want more, you need more for as long as you can have it. That is your prophecy, the destiny written in the fate of your stars and consolidated by the sharpness of his cheekbones and the gentleness of his touch.

He is error in your duty that you can no longer see as a mistake. You’re not sure you ever saw it as a mistake.

You look up at him, throbbing pain in your cheek no longer felt, instead replaced with the sorrows of his eyes and the slow push of the dagger in your heart. Propelled by him, his hand wrapped around the ornate handle, with your own settled on top of it, guiding its entry, because you have done this to yourself.

You fell in love with someone who could not be loved, who did not want to be loved.

And worst of all, you laid it bare before him when you prioritized his safety over your own. You bear the physical mark of your profession that swirls with draining poison that he gentle tries to patch up. A wound that he tries to heal and leave with no trace of himself in its wake.

His mouth remains closed as you finally meet his gaze, but his eyes tell you everything you need to know.

There’s the furrow in his brow and pity in his stare as he whispers, “You shouldn’t have done that.”

The malice you expected is absent, replaced with a saddened realization of the truth that you both tried so hard to avoid. You find that you would’ve much preferred a furious lecture than whatever this is.

This pathetic rejection on the basis of violated principles and foolish duty; A halting of something that hadn’t even had the chance to begin.

You should feel something, something deep and burning in you pointed desperately at him, for depriving you of the chance of a truthful embrace. But you can only hum, a wry one that punches him in the gut, even when you try to keep it void from all emotion.

“I know.”

He tries to find some consolation in the fact that you at least know that your feelings were meant to die here. He should feel less guilty in the admittance that you never bought into the enticing fantasy of living a domestic life with him, a romantic and fulfilling one in which things could end happily and your jobs weren’t the brutal forces of despair.

He should feel some relief in knowing that you knew as much as him that it was better to leave things unsaid, than to act on them, for then, he could keep you close without having to acknowledge the blurring boundaries.

It doesn’t though. Only leaves him with an aching hollow in his chest and a pain reverberating along his spine.

If only you didn’t know that this love was a tragedy in the making, then maybe he could’ve given you a reason to hate him. He could’ve broken your heart brutally, right here and now, and sleep peacefully at night knowing that you truly believed him to be an insignificant monster that ruined a chance of happiness.

Maybe you could’ve believed him to be an end of a route that would lead to a better future, one that you unabashedly deserved.

But you do know. You’ve carried the truth of that burden alongside him, and you admit it. That’s the worst part.

Nanami sighs again in some effort to exhale the heavy weight that lumps in his throat. It’s futile. His eyes drift, if only to break themselves from your own sorrowful gaze, but much like you, he finds himself inevitably being drawn back—unable to stray from the entrancing state of your eyes.

Unable to stop himself from gazing at the long-awaited happiness he finally found in your irises. The one he longed for.

His hand cups around the back of your neck, bringing your foreheads together and noses bumping gently into one another. The closest he can let you be to him, without breaking his dutiful promise.

He breathes you in shamelessly, memorizes the feel of your skin against his, closes his eyes and imagines that for just a moment, he could have you without restraint in this space. You do the same, soaking in the forbidden lifetime of forever in this brief second. You wish, that in all his empathy and compassion for those around him—that in his exorbitant effort to minimize the extent of the damage his eventual death will amass—he will give you just a minute more; Just a second more to keep him close.

Reality is never that kind.

He pulls away, stray strands of blonde falling in front of his forehead that he hardly minds as he picks the rag up once more and places it in your hand.

“Keep this on the wound. I’ll go find the first-aid.”

He turns, quick in his motion and set in his path as he makes his way to the door. Leaving you and the air of lost infinite possibilities behind. He opens it, and just as he is about to step out, he pauses.

“After tonight I will put in my request for reassignment. I’ll make sure they pair you with someone capable. And from now on, it would be best to distance ourselves. We should avoid making a mistake of this kind again.”

And then he leaves, shutting the door quietly behind him, no room for argument in the bluntness of his words. No room for interpretation. Not even a brief hesitation as he confirmed that his vow of loneliness would trump any attempt of momentary happiness he could have found with you.

A statement, strict and concise, affirming what you already knew. You could love Nanami Kento all you wanted, and you could hope and plead desperately that he would love you too, but in the end, all that would be left was the fruits of your mistake.

No.

Not a mistake.

Only a love that was lost before it could even be found.

a/n: apparently the only thing I know how to write for nanami is angst. hope you enjoyed this one anon!!! feel free to request more!! and thank you for the congrats!!

#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #Nanami x Reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami kento angst #nanami angst #my writing #jjk #nanami kento drabble #nanami kento fic #writing event #jjk writing event

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13uswntimagines · 3 years

Text

I’m in Love With You Dumbass (Christen x reader)

Request: R are in love with Chris and she’s close with Chris and Tobin so she really think that she wont stand a chance. R is USWNTs videographer/content creator.

Authors Note: Special thanks to @literaryhedgehog cause without her this would probably still be trapped in my drafts. Also this turned into something a little silly and a little fluffy, and i really hope you enjoy it!

You blinked at your laptop, squinting as you processed the ten thousand pictures that you had taken during national team practice trying to decide which ones you wanted to put out for the fans.

It was always a balancing act, giving them little glimpses at training and not giving your major secrets away, but you had mastered it over the years.

You bit your lip as you swiped past several pictures of your best friend (who you totally didn’t have a crush on). The shot was perfect, well almost. Her green eyes were shining, and her dimples were showing. The only problem you had was that the smile was directed at one Tobin Heath instead of you.

You were so focused on picking out a picture of Christen that you didn’t notice you were no longer alone in the dining hall. Hell, you didn’t notice anything until two hands landed on your shoulders.

“Hey,” Emily yelled directly in your ear, you jolted in your seat, nearly falling as Emily and Lindsey cackled.

You held your hand over your chest, fighting a smile of your own. You might not like being scared, but at least they were having a good time.

“What are you two up to down here?”

“Trying to fight the boredom of a lazy day. What are you up to?” Lindsey laughed, settling down into the seat beside you, and leaning over to look at the photos displayed on your laptop.

“Just editing stuff for tomorrow’s release,” You shrugged, clicking so the photos advanced forward.

“that last video has the fans going crazy,” Emily mumbled, leaning over the back of the chair to get a better view of the screen, and smirking when she saw a string of pictures focused on a certain forward.

“Hmm, I’m glad, but it’s you guys who did all the work, I just shot the camera,” You hummed shaking your head. The women were so charismatic and funny that most of it took almost no artistry on your part. You just had to aim and capture. They were the ones giving you golden content.

“Don’t sell yourself short, you edited like 15 hours of footage into 8 minutes,” Lindsey snorted, and you blushed just a little. Most people didn’t realize how much time a single clip took to put together, so it was kinda nice to have the acknowledgment.

“But I have a question,” Emily said, her head popping over your shoulder as you began to edit one of the clips from today. It wasn’t anything spectacular, just Tobin threading a ball through for Christen.

“Yeah Sonnett?” You asked, tilting your head, your tongue trapped between your teeth as you decided where to cut the clip into the one before it.

“Why does Christen always get more screen time when she’s in those leggings?”

You froze, the flush moving up your cheeks all the way to your ears. You weren’t that obvious, were you? She just looked so good in those pants, you really couldn’t help yourself. It was for the fans after all…

“She doesn’t. I just pick the cool shots and stuff,” You grumbled, crossing your arms and slumping in your seat.

Lindsey’s eyes softened. “If you ever wanna talk about it, you know where to find us,”.

“There’s nothing to talk about. She’s my best friend and probably dating someone else anyway. I don’t stand a chance,” You mumbled, staring adamantly down at your twiddling fingers in your lap.

You had known Christen since college, and you had had a crush on her for almost as long. Years ago you had been poised to make your move when one Tobin Heath entered the picture. She had all but swept Christen off her feet, and you knew you didn’t have a chance with the girl. Why would she want the shy camera girl when she could have one of the best players in the league.

“Yeah, cause she totally doesn’t stare at you as much as you stare at her,” Emily snorted, patting your back.

“I don’t stare…” You grumbled, pouting.

“Whatever you say,” Lindsey cackled, a plan beginning to form.

*****

Christen was not brooding. So she happened to be sitting in a corner, sipping on her beer watching you laugh with someone near the counter across the room from under her eyelashes. But that was not glowering, or even remotely stalkerish. Okay, but who WAS that that you were talking to, and why were they making you laugh so hard you almost choked on your drink?

“Hey Chris, nice view?” Tobin said, sliding into the seat next to Christen.

“Peachy,” Christen said sarcastically, not looking away from where you were standing. Apparently, that girl you were talking to was interested in cameras, as you were currently showing her yours. Bitch.

“Hm, then why are you glaring at the nice rookie who is buying Y/n drinks?”

“She’s a lightweight. If Sophia Smith buys her another one of those Long Island Iceteas then Y/n won’t be able to drive home,” Christen grumbled, sipping her beer. If Kelley could get you drunk with three margaritas, they were definitely in for it with the 3 long islands you had consumed. If only the rookie knew what a stupid move it was.

“So she’ll order an uber.” Tobin shrugged with a smirk. Christen balked at the notion. You were a handful when drunk, and she wasn’t going to leave you alone in the hands of some poor college students.

“Uber has unethical business practices.” She dismissed Tobin’s suggestion easily.

“Maybe one of the Riveters will offer to take her then. Are you really going to sit here and pretend this has nothing to do with the fact that you’re head over heels for our favorite photographer?”

Christen rolled her eyes. There was no way in hell she was going to let you get in the car with one of your fans. No matter how supportive they were.

“Maybe.” She pouted, crossing her arms.

Tobin rolled her eyes at the reaction. God the two of you moved slower than Sloths. If you kept going at this rate you would be 70 by the time you finally got together. “So are you going to sit here and pout, or are you going to go get your girl?”

“What if she doesn’t want me?”

“Trust me, she does,” Tobin snorted. Your crush was pretty obvious to anyone with eyes, as was Christen’s on you. The team had bets about how long it would take the two of you to grow the balls to ask each other out (and who would do the asking).

Christen held Tobin’s eyes for a second. Then she set her drink down on the table and walked over to where you were standing with Smith. You turned to look at her, your eyes taking a second to refocus before you recognized her.

“PRESSIE!” You screeched, then ducked down and whispered “sorry, too loud.”

“How many of these have you had?” Christen said, casually taking the glass from your hand.

“Just two- you know that two-drink Y/n has problems with volume control!” You said, laughing at your Brooklyn 99 reference as you stole your drink back and took a big swig. “Don’t worry, I’ll switch to water next.”

“Right. So are you having fun talking to Sophie?” Christen said, not sure how to start the conversation.

“Oh, sophies nice! Like she’s so funny. She pretended to be interested in photography so I could talk about it since I didn’t know any of the television shows she was talking about. Apparently, I need to watch she-ra or something, but I just don’t have time. And I already promised to watch that thing with you. You know that period drama thing. And you’re nicer. And really pretty. And you give really good cuddles. Even if you always like the villain characters in movies best, like a weirdo.”

“Just because I said Tom Hiddleston was hot one time-”

“It’s Okay, Pressie. I acknowledge that you have a terrible taste in men, you bi disaster you, and that’s okay. I love you anyway. Boop” and with that, you tapped her on the nose.

Christen rolled her eyes, “Okay, let’s get you home before you profess the rest of your love for the team,”

“Hmm, don’t love the rest of the team. Just love you, even if you love Tobin more,” You sighed, leaning your head on her shoulder.

Christen tensed. “What?” She asked. Her and Tobin were strictly friends, and anyone with eyes knew she was hung up on you.

“I wanna date you, but you’re dating tobito. That makes me sad. She scooped you up before i could profess my undying love, ” You pouted, scrunching your eyebrows together. You meant to tell her after Standford beat North Carolina so many years ago, but they had lost and she had gone to congratulate Tobin.

Christen shook her head. “I’m in love with you dumbass, not Tobin,”

You sat up and blinked owlishly at her, suddenly more sober than you had been 20 seconds ago. “You are?”

She rolled her eyes at you, kissing your nose lightly. She wasn’t about to argue with you about who she was in love with while you were drunk off your ass. She would investigate more later, profess her love when you were both sober, and make up for all your lost time “Alright, i think you’ve had enough. Let’s get you home hot stuff,”

#uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagines #literalhedgehog #christen press imagine #christen press x reader

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dianapana · 3 years

Text

SH Day 7- Genin Era

Rated T

Honestly I’m never confident in writing in the original Ninja Universe, my depiction of most of the characters is so OOC and that works fine with AUs but I fell like I need to be in character to write in the Ninja Universe, not sure I achieved it in this story but yes…either way, I hope you enjoy.

~Love Dia.

@sasuhinamonth

Hinata POV

When Iruka sensei first announced the teams, I was disappointed that Naruto-kun and I were on different teams, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was actually best that way. No matter how hard I try I always get flustered and distracted around him and for a ninja focus is important, especially in the middle of important and dangerous missions. And even despite being on different teams, I’m always able to find him around town and look from afar, just seeing him is enough for me. I got used to this way of thinking for a while now, thus when Kurenai mentioned that we’d go on a mission together with team 7 my anxiety levels rose higher than my excitement to see Naruto. I was already too weak and dragging my team down, father always made sure to remind me just how much of a disappointment I was, our initial track record of failed missions, or barely passed ones only added as proof to his words. I was terrified I was going to put everyone in danger, I was scared to make a fool of myself, I was filled with fear that was threatening to overflow from deep inside me.

I tried approaching Kurenai about the issue, tried to ask her to allow me to stay behind, but they needed every one in our team in order to track a run-away criminal, they needed Shinos bugs, Kiba’s nose and my eyes. Naruto’s team was in charge of fighting him if necessary and bringing him into the village. Kiba had been furious when he heard our job was to be a map basically, but I was glad we wouldn’t have to fight. However, my relief was short-lived when Kurenai mentioned that it was an A-class criminal so there was a high chance that team 7 would need our help in combat as well.

The day of the mission started pretty similarly to my usual days, I got dressed, packed bentos for everyone and left bright and early for the training ground where we were told to meet up. The whole way there I kept thinking about what I should do if Naruto was already there, what if it were just the two of us there, what would we talk about? Or would we just sit in silence? However, my worries were futile, Naruto wasn’t there, it was only Shino, I and Uchiha-san. Shino greeted me, but Uchiha-san didn’t acknowledge my existence, the three of us stayed in silence which usually I wouldn’t have minded but my thoughts were hectic and I would have liked any sort of distraction. Slowly more people joined, Kurenai, followed by Sakura and Kiba and soon there was no longer silence, Sakura was talking to Sasuke and Kiba was complaining to Kurenai-sensei. After a few minutes of being ignored Kiba let it go and came to talk to me, he was telling me about some of the new dogs his older sister rescued and Akamaru placed himself in my lap for pets, it almost felt like a normal day and for a moment I forgot all about Naruto and the joined mission, that was of course until Naruto appeared, he had been running to get here on time, you could tell he was hurrying by his slightly red cheeks, the rapid way in which he breathed and the droplets of sweat rolling down his temples.

His sunny disposition was wonderful from far away but it was maybe a bit too bright and blinding from this close. I followed him with my eyes as I were so used to do, not even registering he was walking to me until he was barely a few feet apart, his eyes focused on me with a smile.

“Mornin’ Hinata-chan” I loved how my name sounded on his lips, I blushed hard and murmured a reply, before any more talking could occur Kakashi-sensei arrived as well. Kurenai laid down a map for us and told us to gather around, I was too conscious of Naruto’s presence so I moved as far away from him as I could, I needed to focus on the explanation, my distraction could already be seen for in my attempts to distance myself from Naruto I bumped into Uchiha-san. I screeched, took a step to the side and apologized but he didn’t acknowledge me this time either. The only nod I got from him was when I gave everyone their bentos right before we split into smaller teams.

Thankfully I was able to focus on the plan and understood my part in it. I was to be in front of the team together with Kakashi-sensei and Uchiha-san, I’d use my Byakugan at the beginning until my chakra level was about half and then took small breaks if we hadn’t found the criminal by then. I was glad that Naruto wasn’t directly next to me, however, I was extremely uneasy around Kakashi and Sasuke as well, I had hoped at least Kiba would be next to me, but he was with Sakura and Kurenai to the left while Shino and Naruto were in the back.

“Ok Hinata, you can turn it on whenever you want, if you see anything unusual let us know immediately,” Kakashi said as we stepped outside Konoha grounds. The scroll with the mission information had a portrait of the man and information about his chakra type as well, which all in all helped me a lot, I knew exactly what I was looking for, thus being able to ignore all the movement around me that belonged to the team. The criminal had escaped from Suna three days ago and from their sources, he would pass through the forest outside Konoha somewhere today or tomorrow depending on his speed.

We had been running for almost 3 hours when I felt my chakra levels falter for a moment. I had never used it for such an extensive period of time, plus Kakashi and Sasuke’s speed was much higher than I was used to, all in all, I was having a tough time keeping up with them. I turned off my Byakugan when I felt my left eye hurting badly. “My chakra needs to recharge” I let them know and Kakashi nodded. We didn’t stop running, however, we slowed down significantly in order for Shino and Naruto to catch up with us, Shino too had been using his bugs and was tired, thus it was only Kiba that was still actively searching. Once my chakra felt stable enough, I turned on my Byakugan again, I could still feel discomfort in my left eye but ignored it for the time being.

Another hour passed when Akamaru barked loudly and not even a second later I spotted the criminal, he was far to the left, Kurenai’s team was maybe 45 minutes away from him, I informed Kakashi of that and we too turned to run that way, slowly increasing our speed.

“Hinata, we need you to keep your Byakugan active and let us know exactly where he is going, Shino if you can send some poisonous bugs ahead, our best plan is to knock him out without much fight needed”

The closer we got the more I felt his chakra overpowering me, the faster we ran, the faster he ran too, I wasn’t sure if he knew we were on his tracks, he had made no movement that indicated he knew. It was a split-second event, he was one, he was alone and then there were two others. before I could even open my mouth to tell everyone I felt a sharp pain at the back of my neck and the world slowly started getting blurry and black, the last thing I saw was Uchiha-san’s hand reach out to me.

Sasuke POV

The mission started about 2 hours ago but I could hear Hyuuga’s breath getting heavier and heavier with each step, I kept waiting for her to tell us she was tired, but she didn’t. Kakashi was quite far ahead of me and her but I’m sure he knew she was tired as well. Finally, an hour later she admitted to being tired, I turned for a mili-second to look at her and her left eye was closed, you could see the eye twitching underneath her lid, she had exhausted herself. We met up with the dobe and Aburame, I expected Hyuuga to lose her composure just as she had at the meeting place, but she was either too focused or too tired to give Naruto any attention. Even Naruto was uncharacteristically quiet.

The mission had been a long run thus far, that was until Hinata finally saw the suspect in the distance, we changed our path the way she guided us and kept increasing our speed. Kakashi told her to keep her Byakugan on and she made no comments. Out of everyone I was the closest to her and I could hear her getting more tired by the second, I kept mental tabs on her just in case she was going to pass out. For a split second, I heard her breath patter change, as if she was about to speak and I turned to look at her, her left eye was bleeding and from behind her came a man that hit her hard with the side of his hand on the nape of her neck, I reached out to her and barely caught her, held her against me before we hit the ground. Before checking how Kakashi and the others were faring I cupped her face and brought it up to my ear, for an agonizing long second, I couldn’t hear or feel her breath, but thankfully she was breathing, she was alive.

“Sasuke, take care of Hinata” Kakashi ordered, he had already knocked out the man that attacked us and was carrying currently carrying him on his back while writing a scroll and running at the same time. I picked Hinata up and continued running too.

“Is she ok?” Aburame asked and I nodded trying to ease his worry. I had been worried too, for a moment there I panicked, what would I have done had she died? Her left eye was still bleeding slowly, it looked as if she was constantly crying blood, I could feel my shirt getting wet with her blood, having her blood on me made me feel even more in charge of her safety.

“I found them too, I put a bug on each of them, there are three men in total” the information was welcomed “Kurenai-sensei’s team should reach them about 10 minutes before we do, I managed to inject with a small dose of poison one of them, the other two killed my bugs” Despite Hinata’s approximation beforehand, the criminal and his partners, apparently, were running too, all we could do is try to catch up to them in due time.

Holding her into my arms I felt oddly detached from the mission, for the majority of it I had been distracted, more interested in her state of being than the mission itself. Today had been one of my first interactions with her, what was it about her that caught my attention? Her blush and stutter when Naruto was concerned? Her loud scream when she bumped into me? The bento she offered me with no alternative reason? Either way, her presence distracted me and I did not appreciate that, her weight in my arms felt comfortable and even that annoyed me.

“Sasuke, you turn around with Hinata, I trust that there are no other men involved with the criminal. We can’t be sure how long the chase will take, Shino will keep trying to poison them and we hopefully will be done soon, however Hinata needs medical attention”

My detachment to the mission only furthered, I asked no questions, I gave no reply but simply turn around and run towards Konoha. Despite the extra weight and the long run thus far I wasn’t tired, I was oddly energized, my blood was boiling and I was running even faster than I have ever had. We were about 5 or 6 hours away from Konoha, but I wanted to reach it in 4 if possible. My focus returned and I heard every little leaf crunch on the ground, every little branch being moved by the wind.

When we were getting closer to Konoha, meaning maybe under an hour away Hinata moved into my arms, I stopped abruptly and looked down at her, her eye had stopped bleeding 2 hours ago thankfully, her complexion which had been white before was rosier and I could feel her sweating under her enormous jacket. I lowered myself to one knee and propped her legs onto my knee thus using that hand to undo her zipper, then without much thought I took off her jacket and threw it on the forest floor, it was covered in blood, sweat and dirt anyway, she wouldn’t miss it. I got back up and adjusted my grip on her, my hand was touching the skin of her upper arm, it was moist and hot but soft. I was about to start running again when her eyes fluttered open. The sclera of her left eye was blood-red, her right eye was also red but not quite to the same extent.

“Uchiha-san…? Where are we?” her voice was meek, but for the first time, she was looking me straight in the eye.

“We are maybe 1 hour away from Konoha”

“D-did the mission end…? where is everyone else?”

“The mission hadn’t been over when we departed form the group. Kakashi sent me to take you to the hospital. I am sure he assessed the situation and decided they could finish without us and that this was the best course of actions”

I had no expectations of how she would react, but her sudden sobs took me by surprise. Without even realizing it, I brought her body closer to mine and raised it a little. “Hold onto my neck” I ordered, Hinata looked at me with glossy eyes but obeyed nonetheless. I resumed running in that position. Was I offering her privacy to cry? Was this meant to comfort her? Even I couldn’t say.

The rest of the run went by fast, after crying for a while Hinata fell asleep, in the meantime, I started nothing things that I was grateful for. I was grateful for her short hair since the wind couldn’t blow it in my face, I was grateful for the soft skin of her arms since they felt nice onto my neck, I was grateful for her height since it made her the perfect size for me to carry, I was grateful that she was asleep and not dead.

When we reached the hospital, I placed her onto the bed in the room a nurse guided me to. She didn’t let go of my neck for a moment and whispered “it’s a-all my f-f-fault, I ruined another m-mission. I’m so s-s-sorry” her voice broke, and for some reason hearing her say that hurt me as well. I didn’t know how to comfort her, so all I did was rub circles on her back with my hand, I sat down on the bed and allowed her to keep holding onto me for a bit longer. “You did nothing wrong, thanks to you the others knew where the enemy was. We failed you because we didn’t notice the man behind” I had heard about the Hyuuga blind spot from father, but had forgotten about it until that moment. I wasn’t sure f my words or actions were of any help to her, but she didn’t cry, she was just hiding, and even that didn’t last long, for the doctor came to check on her.

I walked out of the hospital and went home to rest, in the middle of the night, hours later I heard a knock at my door, it was Kakashi-sensei. He came to let me know everything went well and to ask about Hinata. I told him what the nurse told me, a blood vessel busted in her left eye, she was knocked out and had a slight concussion, but nothing major. They were going to let her out of the hospital in the morning. After Kakashi told me some more about the mission he left for the night and I made a sudden decision.

I found myself in front of the hospital. I knew which window belonged to Hinata’s room, I had seen her through it when I left that evening. So instead of going through the door, I decided to jump onto one of the trees and then right outside her window. I tapped it lightly, not wanting to wake her if she were asleep, but thankfully she wasn’t.

“Uchiha-san?” she said as she opened the window for me to get into the room. She looked confused and embarrassed. I walked to her bed and took a seat on the side of it.

“I just wanted to let you know the mission was a success, everyone is fine.” Her eyes widened. “You didn’t ruin it, as I said before they couldn’t have done it without you” it felt odd o say that and the more the words gained meaning into my mind the more embarrassing they became. “Either way, I just thought you’d worry so I came to tell you that there’s no need for that”

I got up and wanted to leave, the room felt small and warm, but Hinata grabbed the back of my shirt. “Thank you” she mumbled the words about a dozen times, each time a little quieter and broken than before. I wanted to stay and comfort her some more, but I also didn’t want to see her crying anymore. My feelings were confusing me and so was she, so I simply replied ‘go to sleep’ before going out the window and leaving her behind into the dark hospital room.

The first week of Sh month done oof, can't believe I pulled through, especially since I didn't really plan on posting anything but day 1 so most stories (apart from day 6) I things I randomly wrote at 1 am. Thank you for reading and interacting <3

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