#x gn! reader

You and Dennis had gotten married shortly before leaving your hometown of Broken Bow. It wasn't anything expensive or fancy, just you two and both of your guys' parents at the court house. Since Dennis was going to med school you both figured it'd be best to hold off on a big wedding until he had gotten established as a doctor and your were stable in your career.

As a sort of congratulations gift for getting a student doctor position at PTMC, you gave Dennis a simple silver chain for him to put his wedding ring on while he works. He had expressed a few times that he didn't want to risk losing it at work, so you figured it was a great idea. He, of course, agreed and started using it on his first day.

An unexpected effect of the gift however was that none of his coworkers were aware that he was married. Sure they had all heard him talk about you, but they just assumed you were a roommate or friend. And sweet, sweet Dennis didn't even think to tell them that he was married. It never seemed important to work and no one ever asked.

It wasn't until shortly after he reached the first year mark of his residency that he thought it was time to introduce his coworkers to his spouse. You had both talked about it and decided that with both of your careers being stable, and with the money you had slowly been saving up it was time to start planning a real wedding. Not that you didn't think your court house wedding was real, but you both wanted a decent sized wedding where more than just your parents could attend. And a big part of the conversation was about inviting Dennis' coworkers since they were some of his closest friends and had become like a second family to him.

But before he just randomly invited his friends to his second wedding, he wanted them to actually meet the person who stole his heart years ago in Broken Bow. So the plan was you would be joining him when he went for the day shift's monthly hang out away form the hospital. He was mostly prepared for the questions that would come from the sudden news but it was worth it. Bring the two most important parts of his life together was worth the teasing he was going to receive from Trinity for weeks after.

The get together was planned for the next weekend most of the day shift had off. It was rare but it was fast approaching, and Dennis could barley focus on charting thinking about what was going to happen.

He was pulled from his thoughts when Trinity slide across the counter of the Nurse's station. "What you thinking about Huckleberry?" She asked in her usual teasing tone.

"Uh, nothing. Just can't wait for this weekend." He said closing out the patient chart he had barely managed to finish while lost in thought.

Trinity nodded along. "What's so special about this weekend? It's just the normal hangout." She said, before a smile spread across her face. "Wait are you finally going to introduce us to your elusive roommate?" She had that smile she got when presented with an interesting case, like there was a new mystery to solve, except this time it was just Whitaker's alleged roommate.

Dennis rolled his eyes slightly at you being referred to as his 'roommate' bit didn't say anything about it yet. "Yeah, actually. Their my closest friend and I think they'll really like you guys." It wasn't entirely a lie. You were his closet friend, having grown up together before eventually falling in love.

"Oh, that's cool." Trinity said hiding her smirk. She's had assumptions for a while that his roommate was more than that, but before she could prod for more information she was interrupted by paramedics rushing into the ER.

"Santos, Whitaker." Doctor Robby called the two Residents as he approached the paramedics. "What do we got?" He asked, not noticing how Dennis froze mid step only a few feet from the moving gurney.

"Y/n Whitaker, 26 year old, restrained driver, auto vs. auto. They were awake and alert when we got scene, but lost consciousness on the way. Bp 90/60, satting at 98 on 2 liters, multiple lacerations to face and arms, possible tib-fib fracture on left side." The medic said as they moved into Trauma 1.

It wasn't until they started to transfer the patient from the gurney, that anyone realized what the medic had said.

"Wait, did you just say Whitaker?" Trinity asked the medic, thinking she misheard him.

The medic just nodded before leaving with his partner. Connecting the dots, she, and the rest of the staff in the trauma room, looked to where Dennis was last seen standing. Sure enough he was frozen in place, eyes focused on the unconscious patient, making no move to enter the room.

Nodding to Langdon, who had joined the group trusting him to take over, Robby moved to speak with Dennis. "Dennis, do you know them?" He asked nodding in the direction of the trauma bay.

Blinking quickly as if being awoken form a trance, Dennis nodded. "Uh yeah. They're my partner." He answered, pulling the chain tucked in his shirt out to fidget with his wedding ring. "We've been together since high school, and they've been my number one supporter since I decided to become a doctor." He started to ramble, not noticing the slightly surprised look that Robby and Dana shared over the young residents shoulder.

"Okay well then, I can't let you in there. Langdon and Santos will take great care of them, you just sit here or in the break room and take a breather. Okay?" Robby said placing a gentle hand on Dennis' shoulder. Sure he had more questions, but figured now wasn't the best time to press.

Dennis just nodded, still in shock from seeing you wheeled into the ER. With out much thought to it he chose to sit at the Nurse's station where he had a clear line of site to where his coworkers were making sure you were stable.

"Keep an eye on him. I'll pick up his cases, he's done for the day." Robby said to Dana as he headed to check on the rest of his residents.

The charge nurse nodded, going about her shift as usual but keeping a close eye on the fidgety doctor.

It wasn't long before Trinity and Langdon made their way out of the trauma room. Langdon stopped to tell Dana that you had been sent up to CT and X-ray. Trinity on the other hand made a B-line for Dennis.

"So you're married?" Trinity asked placing herself directly in front of Dennis to block his view of the trauma room. "Why didn't you say anything? I thought we were friends."

Dennis blinked. "How are they? Are they stable?" He began asking, completely ignoring Trinity's questions. When she didn't respond fast enough he stood up and approached Langdon. "Please tell me how they're doing." He asked the senior resident in a way that sounded more like a demand than anything.

"They're gonna be okay. They likely have a mild concussion and broken leg, with hand full of minor cuts and bruises." Langdon replied with a rare gentle smile. "They just went up for a head CT and X-ray to rule out anything else. Then we'll get them a room down here where they can rest and wait for either a room upstairs or discharge depending on the results." He explained knowing that even though he was also a doctor, Dennis probably need some reassurance that everything would be okay.

The young resident nodded. "Okay thank you." He said quietly.

"Since it's going to be a minute until they get back from their tests, spill Huckleberry." Trinity said, once again trying to get answers from her friend.

Sighing Dennis nodded, before sitting back down at the Nurse's station where a group of his coworkers had gathered. "Me and Y/n have been married since before we left Broken Bow. I never told anyone because none of you asked, and it wasn't important." He explained as he finally took his necklace off and moved his ring to his left hand, where it sat anytime he wasn't at work. "I was actually going to introduce them to y'all this weekend." He said looking towards his coworkers.

"Wait so why tell us now, if it was important enough to tell us before?" Victoria asked, having joined the group of medical workers currently surrounding Dennis.

"Ha, uh funny story actually. We decided that we're finally ready to hold a big ceremony, since our wedding back home was just at the local court house. And we wanted to invite everyone here." Dennis explained with a shrug, earning a few awes from a couple of the nurses. "It's be weird to invite y'all to a wedding if you had no clue who the other person was." He finished, spinning his ring on finger.

It was clear that everyone had questions, but now wasn't the right time so before questions could start flying, Dana spoke up. "Alright back to work all of you. Leave the poor kid alone, I'm sure he'll be happy to answer questions when you guys aren't saving lives." She said shooing the nurses and med students who had gathered for the story. "Whitaker, Y/n will be back down soon you can meet them in central 9. Langdon will stop by when the results come back." The older woman said point Dennis to the room they were sending you.

Only a few minutes after he had sat down in one of the uncomfortable chairs, you were brought in by couple nurses. He immediately jumped up to check on you, sighing in relief when he noticed you had woken up since you where brought in by the EMTs.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" He asked gently, reaching to hold your hand in his.

"Your friends hooked me up with the good drugs, I'm doing great." You said trying to get a laugh out of him. "But seriously I'm okay, Dennis."

Dennis couldn't help but chuckle slightly at your attempt to be silly even though you were in hospital bed. "Good. I was worried about you." He said trying to keep it simple, but he cracked seeing the knowing look in your eye. "Okay, I was super worried about you. When you came in you were unconscious and there was a lot of blood from this cut on your head." He said brushing his thumb under the now closed cut, that seemed so much bigger an hour ago.

"I know I'm a doctor and that head wounds bleed more, but my rational brain shut off I froze and couldn't help you when you needed me." Dennis rambled. "I was so out of it that Dr. Robby benched me for the day." He said pulling a chair over to sit close to you.

Squeezing his hand you smiled again. "Hey, it's okay to be worried. I'd be terrified if I was in your shoes. But I'm awake and doing fine. Your friends took great care of me, and now I can confidently say they better be at our wedding." You said earning a gentle laugh from your husband.

Before He could respond, there was a gentle knock at the door followed by Langdon walking in. "Hello, It's good to see you're awake. I'm Dr. Langdon, Whitaker has probably mentioned me before." He introduced with half joking smile, trying to keep the mood light. "Anyways, you got pretty luck this time Mx. Whitaker. As we suspected just a mild concussion and a clean break of your left tibia. We'll get your leg in a cast to help it heal but you shouldn't need surgery as long as you stay off it and use the crutches. And the concussion should heal with lots of rest." He explained while charting the plan for your care.

"You'll need some help at home, but lucky for you it seems one of the Pitt's finest will be available." Langdon said as he closed the computer. "I will be back shortly to cast your leg and then you should be good to go."

You and Dennis thanked his coworker as he left the two of you alone once again. "Wait I just realized something." You said after silence had fallen over the space. Dennis looked to you and tilted his head confused. "How are we supposed to get home? The car was totaled." You said looking super serious.

"I'm sure we can call an Uber. What I'm worried about is how I'm supposed to help you out at home if I have to work." Dennis said trying to figure out how he's supposed to work and take care of you.

Before he could think to hard about it, there was another knock at the door. "Hello, I'm Doctor Robinavitch, but everyone calls me Dr. Robby. I just wanted to talk to Dennis really quick." He said looking to your husband. Dennis moved to stand up, but Robby raised hi hand stopping the younger man. "It's nothing bad. I just wanted you to know that we have everything covered here so you can take the next two weeks to help Y/n around the house and recover. They should be your top priority right now."

"I uh. Thank you Dr. Robby. I greatly appreciate that." Dennis said slightly stunned at how he didn't even have to ask for the time off it was just given.

Robby nodded. "It's no problem. It was nice meeting you Y/n, get well soon." He said before turning to leave.

As Robby exited the room Langdon, two nurses and Trinity walked in.

"What are you doing here?" Dennis asked rolling his eyes at Trinity, knowing she was probably there to make jokes and not actually help with your care.

Trinity just smiled. "I'm here to meet my friend's spouse that he failed to mention, Huckleberry. Anyways, I'm Trinity Santos. Did you really marry this Huckleberry or are you just roommates?" She said turning her attention to you.

"Yes I really did marry Dennis." You said with a smile, having heard about how she has a habit of picking on Dennis in friendly almost sibling like manner. "We were actually hoping you want to be part of the wedding party for our do over big ceremony, if you're interested?" You asked, as Langdon started applying the cast to your leg.

"Wait really? Huckleberry, You want me to actually be a part of your wedding?" She asked, turning to Dennis, who just nodded and shrugged. "Yeah, Okay I'm cool with that." Trinity said trying to act like she wasn't super honored to be invited an important part of such a big occasion.

You all talked for a few minutes about how your plan for your re-do wedding would have to be postponed a little longer since you won't be able to work and will have to pull from savings, but that Trinity would defiantly be part of it. It wasn't long until Langdon said he was done applying your cast and that you were good to go.

Dennis ran to his locker and grabbed his change of street clothes he had, thanking whatever higher power that you wore the same size clothes, before helping you change out of the hospital gown you had been put in. After getting you dressed and ordering an uber, You and Dennis sat at the Nurse's station while you waited. Dennis spending the time trying to make sure that it was 100% okay that he takes two weeks off of work, and you meeting the rest of his coworkers as the passed by between patients.

Once the uber arrived and took you home, Dennis couldn't help but sigh in relief as he collapsed next to you on your shared bed.

"That was one hell of day." He said turning to look at you. "Seriously, I'm glad you're okay, I don't know what I would have done with out you."

You chuckled shimming across the bed to get closer to him. "Probably cry." You said leaning your head on his shoulder. "But you don't have to worry about that. I'm fine now and in few months we'll be able to finally have our big wedding."

"Yeah. you're right." He said placing a gentle kiss to your head. Sure, the day hadn't gone how he expected but when does it ever when you work in the ER. And hey now he doesn't have to worry about introducing you to his coworkers since they all met you through out the day.

Taglist: @nickydahmo @finnydraws @basking-in-sunlight-shark @boricuas-fic-recs

YOICHI ISAGI

isagi was like a literal simp.

finding any excuse to talk to you— no matter how ridiculous it seemed, isagi would make it work somehow.

yeah. even if it meant purposely accidentally bumping into you.

“oh sh—i’m so sorry! are you okay? i didn’t mean to bump into you,” he stammered, his face already flushed red at the contact of your shoulders brushing. he offered a water bottle, snack— hell, even doing your homework as an apology.

on the other hand, you only stood there watching in amusement. “yoichi, i’m fine, don’t worry.” you said with a smile, trying to reassure him.

and ever since that day, isagi would suddenly be around you constantly— from simple greetings to walking you to all of your classes (it’s fine if he was a few minutes late, what’s the big deal?)— all while still coming up with the most random conversation starters that left you questioning what really was going on through his head.

“bread or rice for breakfast? bread? awesome, me too! so, what are your plans for this weekend?”

it eventually becomes a cycle that leads to his friends finding out about it, too. while some mostly stay back and watch him stumble over his words with a red face whenever they spot him talking to you, others do the opposite. like bachira, for example, who teases him like hell for it.

“hey, what’s with that smile?”

at his friends’ sudden question, isagi immediately felt his cheeks heat up, trying to think of a believable excuse to escape bachira’s teasing. only to fail and say the first thing that came to his mind, “n-nothing.”

“ohhhh,” bachira replied, drawing out the sound dramatically. “i see, you’re thinking about them, aren’t you?”

isagi stammered out a response in denial, but deep down, knew it was true.

later that night as he laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind was full of thoughts of you. the way your smile made him feel like he was above clouds or whenever you looked at him had his heart skipping a beat.

he groaned softly, turning over to bury his face in his pillow with a pink face. “i’m screwed.” he mumbled to himself, feeling his heart pounding loudly in his chest. despite the swirl of emotions that fogged up his mind, a shy smile tugged at his lips.

isagi couldn’t wait to see you tomorrow.

MEGURU BACHIRA

“meguru, i can’t move if you’re hanging off of my back.”

for the past ten minutes or possibly more, meguru suddenly jumped onto you from behind, his arms and legs locked around you, tightening every time you tried to move.

the hallways were empty except for the both of you, which unfortunately meant for the brown-haired male to keep clinging onto you like a koala, no matter how much you complained and turned to pry him off.

he leaned down to rub his cheek affectionately against yours for a moment. “then don’t.”

“you can’t just cling to me all day,”

“why not? you’re not hard to carry.”

you scoffed, placing your hands on his knees to push them down so he would let go, but to no avail. “what’s that supposed to mean?” you huffed, giving up your attempts to free yourself.

meguru grinned, finally letting go before wrapping an arm around your waist, lifting you off of the ground with ease to hold you bridal style. “you’re really light for someone so short.”

“what the fu— put me down!”

his bright yellow eyes bore into yours. “nope. this is way better!” he replied with a hum, abruptly turning on his heel as he spun you around, his laughter echoing through the hallways.

you felt your cheeks redden at his daring hold on your body, frantically looking around to make sure no one was nearby. gosh, it would be so embarrassing if anyone caught you both in this situation right now.

“why are you even doing this?” you asked, avoiding to look into those warm, honey-colored eyes of his.

meguru paused. “huh..i guess i just like being around you.” he said softly, his tone steering away from playful to sincere.

“oh.” you felt your cheeks redden further, lifting your head once more to face him. “that’s..cute, but—”

“wait,” he interrupted, his eyes widening as if he realized something. “do i..” meguru’s cheeks turned a tad pink as he kept gazing into your eyes intensely, causing you to get nervous.

then he burst out laughing. “ohh, i get it now.”

you raised an eyebrow, still confused by what he was referring to. “of what?”

he grinned at you again, holding you tightly in his arms as he leaned in closer, his face mere inches away from yours. “i think i really like you. a lot.”

SEISHIRO NAGI

you lost.

again.

gripping the controller in frustration, you cursed under your breath, “dammit, why is it so hard?”

you were currently over at nagi’s place, chilling in his room while laying on his bed. your eyes focused on the large television displaying the ‘game over’ screen, then back at nagi, who was sprawled out on his gaming chair and engrossed in his phone, the sounds of gunshots and taps of his fingers being heard.

“sei,” you called out, sitting up as you went over to him, nudging his shoulder gently with the palm of your hand.

no answer.

clicking your tongue in annoyance, you decided to move so you would sit in front of him, noticing how his dark eyes were laser-focused on his phone. you reached out, booping his nose.

nagi flinched slightly, his eyes flickering up to meet yours. “what was that for?”

“to get your attention.”

“huh? what do you need?” he asked, casually pressing the pause button on his phone as if he wasn’t currently in the middle of finishing the last boss.

“i need help on this level,” you grabbed the controller, holding it out for him to see the screen shown on tv.

“oh. sure.”

after a while, you waved him goodbye, going off to walk home. nagi waved back, shutting the door once you were out of sight. he sat down on the couch, phone in hand to resume his match. reo, who was sitting on the other end of the furniture and had heard everything from upstairs, decided to try to do the same.

“can you pause your game again and get me a drink?”

nagi hummed, not bothering to look up from his phone. “get it yourself.” he replied with a deadpanned expression.

“but you did it for y/n—”

“that was different.”

reo’s jaw dropped, a vein mark popping on his forehead. “why them and not me!?”

nagi only shrugged. “maybe i just like them more than you.”

his comment had reo sulking that night.

REO MIKAGE

it was white day— a month after valentine’s, where boys were the ones giving gifts to the girls instead; whether for friendship, admiration, or simply reciprocating the gifts they had received from them.

although it was more like another normal day for you. when valentine’s day rolled around, you had given reo a box of chocolates for the sole purpose of being a great friend, not thinking much of it back then.

what you didn’t know, was that he decided to give you something back.

except ten times more.

as you walked into the classroom, your eyes widened at the sight of your assigned desk being stacked with all sorts of gifts— heart-shaped chocolate boxes, small bags of cookies, flowers, and a small teddy bear in a suit with a white tag above its chest.

oh, don’t forget a single pink card on top of everything.

a group of your classmates surrounded your desk, murmuring who was your admirer to have gifted you so much. how did you manage to get the most gifts on white day out of everyone else in the room?

from what they knew, you didn’t give any guy a whole stack of gifts. so what gives?

meanwhile for you, it didn’t take you that long to figure out who your—possible— secret admirer was.

who else other than reo mikage himself?

once classes were over, you spotted him standing nearby, leaning against the wall while trying to look nonchalant. you headed towards him, carrying the mountain of gifts in your arms.

“hey reo! look at what i got,” you said with a grin, holding everything up for him to see. “i wonder who got me all this. i want to thank them personally, you know?”

reo silently beamed, thinking he pulled it off perfectly— especially you not knowing who it was. he cleared his throat, trying to maintain his innocent act. “oh yeah, i wonder.”

your eyes narrowed as you looked at him, picking up the teddy bear. “it’s obviously you, it literally has your name on it.”

crap. reo’s eyes widened, his face flushing pink in embarrassment. how did he fail to notice that!? “oh—uh..” he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck while avoiding eye contact.

“..it’s fine, thank you, reo.” you said softly with a smile.

he looked up, his heart racing in his chest once he noticed that sweet smile of yours that never failed to leave him a flustered mess each time.

“really—”

And that, which it's far more simple than you might think, was the need to be loved.

His family was shit. That was a given. Never once looked at him like they were proud of him, which for what it was worth, he couldn't give a shit.

His bandmates were fucking righteous, but what the fuck's that got to do with anything? Love from a bandmate? Right. Weird as fuck. This wasn't one of those half-assed teen romcoms where the drummer fell in love with the lead singer. He'd rather vomit in front of an entire set than have his drummer fall in "love" with him.

And then, there was you. That bitch down the block that made him question anything and everything. Just looking at you made him feel things that he wasn't used to, and it infuriated him.

Sure, maybe he wanted to be loved, but by you? Sweet, little Y/n who'd never had a bad thought in your life? For fucks sake, it was as if the universe was laughing at him!

The universe was always laughing at him.

But who cares? He was in a punk ass band, he always stuck it to the Man, and when it mattered most, his bandmates showed up when others didn't.

But you were always on his mind.

Shit.

He was down bad for you. There was no way around it.

Standing outside your doorstep, half-smoked cigarette hanging from his lips, he knocked rather loudly. If you didn't answer, he'd just leave. God, he hoped you didn't answer. The cherry wine coolers he'd had just moments before weren't doing much to settle his nerves.

Why the fuck was he even nervous?

It wasn't like it was the first time he'd been around you. Hell, he'd smoked a cigarette or three on your doorstep, complaining about anything and everything as you drank a soda, a coffee, or one of those cheap wine coolers he brought you.

It wasn't like he didn't know you.

There's a pause as he sucks in a deep breath of smoke, and the door opens to reveal you. In your pajamas like a good little samaritan, ready for bed at 10 in the evening.

Simon silently scolded himself. Of course you were ready for bed. A goody-two-shoes who most definitely wasn't waiting up for some kind of divine inspiration for a new song. Who wasn't waiting up for some kind of alcohol to finally kick in.

You blinked slowly at him. You knew him—not as well as you would like to, but you knew him. You had a history class together back in high school, and while you weren't that teenager from way back when, you still remember the inkling of a crush you had on him. You knew him way better then than you did, now.

Ethics be damned, am I right?

"Simon?"

Your voice was so soft, so sweet. He just wanted to turn around and walk away, to avoid you so he wouldn't taint you like he wanted to.

Dammit.

"Hey, Y/n," he said, dropping his cigarette and crushing it beneath his boots. "You, uh, got a minute?"

You blinked slowly but gave a small nod, stepping out onto the porch. You closed the door behind you to keep the cool air from going in. Your arms crossed over your chest and you watched Simon closely before he spoke. It wasn't the first time you had done this.

You stood barefoot in front of him, the cold concrete a not-so-welcome addition to the conversation.

"Look," he began. "I, uh, just wanted to—well, fuck, I don't know what I wanted to—"

He was a blabbering mess. What the fuck was this? He was confident, but around you, it was as if every little bit of his brazenness melted away.

"You, me, bar tomorrow night, yeah?" he blurted.

Simple. To the point. Far less embarrassing than what happened just moments prior.

Your eyes widened, and he can see the gears turning in your pretty mind. But you didn't seem adverse.

You smiled a bit. "What bar?"

He blinked slowly. "What bar? The fuck—uh," he looked over his shoulder, clearing his throat. "Sure. Why the fuck not? Bar on Main Street."

"Will I meet you there?"

He scrunched his nose. "Yeah. Meet me there."

"Cool. What time?"

He blinked slowly. "Time? Fucks sake, Y/n, you ask a hell of a lot of questions," he said, snorting softly. "Let's, uh, say nine? Or is that too late for you?" He eyed your warm pajamas.

"I'll be there," you said.

He perked up a bit before he looked you up and down one more time. "Fucking right," he said. "Be there." He took a step back, nearly faltering on the first step of your porch, but then he turned away and without another word, left you behind.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He wasn't stupid. He was smart in his own ways, sure, but what the actual fuck was that?

Girls threw themselves at his feet, especially when he was John Q. Guys did too, in their own ways—hell, he had one guy one time tell him he'd give him a blowjob if he looked at him for longer than five seconds.

He almost took him up on the offer. But that was nearly a year ago, and the way you looked at him tonight made his heart melt in the confines of his beaten chest.

Dammit all, what the fuck was he doing?

Love. What the hell would love give him that he couldn't get from some random fucker down the street?

What in the ever-loving hell was he doing?

Nine o'clock on the dot, he was there at the bar on Main.

Down bad. He knew it, too. Even canceled his band practice just to come and see you. His drummer had nearly cussed him out, but Simon didn't give a shit.

He went straight to the bar and ordered a beer, downing half of it in the first few seconds of having it.

When he felt a hand on his arm, he nearly jumped out of his skin. He looked down, seeing you standing there. You actually came. You weren't pulling his dick, you actually showed up.

His heart pounded nervously in his chest. Shit. When was the last time he was actually this nervous?

"Y/n," he said.

You smiled up at him. Did anyone ever tell you how pretty your smile was?

What. The. Fuck.

"You said nine, right?" you asked. "I'm avoiding my pajamas just for you."

Just for him. Fuuuck.

You were cute.

He shoots a cheeky grin, leaning against the bar counter. He could be suave. He could be confident and not seem as needy as he felt. The pyro was more than capable.

But for some reason, he didn't feel like lying to you. He didn't feel like joking around, or trying to show you something that simply wasn't true.

He'd loved you since that stupid class back in high school—the one with Mr. Fuck-face and that terrible toupee. You had been so nice to him, while everyone else had treated him like a parasite. Not that he blamed them. He knew what he was.

He cleared his throat and looked around the bar. Maybe it hadn't been the best place to ask you to, but the alcohol definitely would help at some point.

"Yeah. I said nine," he said.

You ordered a drink. He doesn't listen to what you say to the bartender. He's staring you down, eyeing you like a fine choice of meat. Fuck, you were, though. Every inch of you was like heaven to him.

Maybe it wasn't love he wanted. Maybe it was just lust that kept him in a chokehold.

Besides, he hardly knew you. Knew you briefly in high school, but the fuck's that matter? How long has it been since the two of you graduated?

Long enough.

Long enough for everything to change, except for him, apparently.

"How've you been?"

Your voice drew him out of his thoughts. He looked at you, blinking slowly, before he shrugged.

"Busy," he said.

"You still playing?"

He blinked slowly. "Huh?"

"In high school. You had a band. You still playing?"

You remembered that? Shit.

"Yeah," he said. "I'm still playing. We play a couple gigs here and there."

Your eyes widened. "Really? Where do you play?"

"Wherever we can get a spot. You, uh, should totally come out to hear it some time."

You smiled immediately. "I would love to," you said.

He stared you down. Either you were lying or you were one of the fuckers who he knew he'd never get enough of. It's looking like it would be the latter.

He looked away from you, taking a swig of his beer.

"You think that—"

He interrupted you, slamming his beer onto the counter. "Look," he said rather quickly. "I don't know what it is, but I need you to take me seriously for a second."

You blinked slowly. "Yeah. What's up?"

He clenched his jaw as he looked at you. He wasn't angry with you—nah, he was angry with himself. Not talking to you sooner, not kissing your pretty mouth, not—

"I think you're fucking tits," he said, taking hold of you by your shoulders. "I'm not about to sit here and tell you I love you, because I don't, but for fuck's sake, I want you more than I've wanted anything in my entire life."

Okay. Lie number one. Starting off strong. But how could you love someone if you didn't truly know who they were? Guess it wasn't really a lie. It just... was a half truth, if that.

Your eyes are wide as you stared up at him. "What?"

"I want—" he began, letting out a labored breath. "I want you. Okay? There. Fuck. I said it."

"You... you want me? How?"

He snorted softly at your question. "I want you in every fuckin' way imaginable, Y/n."

He said nothing more, leaving it up for your interpretation, but clearly, by the way he was looking at you, it was obvious.

"Simon—"

"Nah, don't," he said. "If you're gonna protest, I don't want to hear it."

"I'm not gonna protest—"

"—I've had enough people tell me they don't want me, and it pisses me off."

"But I—"

"—I'm serious, Y/n."

"Simon. I'm not protesting," you said defensively. "I—I feel the same way."

He blinked slowly at you, like he didn't just hear you correctly.

"What?" he asked.

"I like you," you said. "Have for a while now."

"You..."

"Yeah. I do," you said.

"Well shit," he breathed out, looking down at you. "Well that was easier than I thought it would be."

He pulled on a cheeky grin, and those pretty eyes of his bored into yours.

"You should kiss me," you said, smiling up at him.

"The fuck?" he let out a curt laugh, but he took you up on the offer. A hand moved to the back of your neck, and his lips pressed to yours almost instantaneously.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Shintaroooo!”

You run quickly towards him and shout out to him with a worried voice, obviously panicking while holding out your unanswered assignment in front of his face. Tears are streaming down your cheeks.

“Please help me!” You shake his shoulders in panic. “I forgot to do my math homework! I’ve fallen asleep after I binge-watched Coffee Prince. I don’t want to fail, please! I want to keep being an honor student—”

Midorima trembles in annoyance within your reach before cutting you off with his finger pressed to your lips. “Will you calm down?! Your voice can reach all the way through the rooftop!”

“B-But my grade—!”

“Stop being dramatic. A tardy submission will not automatically make you fail; our teacher will only give you a deduction.”

“Every point matters, Shin-chan!”

“Don’t call me that!”

You pout before complying. Immediately scooting your chair closer to his seat with a pleading face. “But you’ll help me, right?”

You are too close.

You bat your eyelashes prettily, trying to persuade him. Shintaro’s breath hitched when he feels your face only few centimeters away from him.

He is only met with a bright smile before he is ‘forced’ to help you with your homework—downright snatching it from your hands.

Midorima ignores the fluttering in his heart when his fingers brush against yours.

Why can’t he find himself to resist?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Takao watches his usual stoic, self-absorbent teammate act unusually. He narrows his eyes at the sight of Midorima mistakenly wrapping his fingers twice—he was unfocused, and it was obvious that something was weighing on his mind.

“Shin-chan, are you alright?” There is no way he is actually nervous about going against Kaijo, right?

Takao was only met with a silent glare from his friend, making him blink in confusion.

Shintaro instantly denied his claim, “Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?”

“I can see your fingers getting suffocated from up here,” Takao points out with a very concerned look on his face. He gasps so dramatically, like a thunder of realization flashes down in the locker room. “And… are my eyes playing tricks on me?!”

Midorima only looks at him like he has grown two heads.

“I’m not seeing you wiping your teddy bear—or what should it be today, a ceramic vase? A shoelace? That small acorn you asked me to steal from your neighbor’s garden?” Takao points out in surprise, because it was very unusual for him to not have his lucky item. “I’m seeing zero of those today. Is my Shin-chan okay?!”

Otsubo gives Midorima a worrying look. Is the world ending for him?

His teammates snickered at the sight, their coach letting out a tired sigh.

Midorima hears the ping on his phone, seeing your message that you have already arrived at the gymnasium. He does not back down at the teasing of his teammates without an answer—partnered with a scowl. “My lucky item is here.”

“What..? Did you seriously have it delivered here and at this hour?!”

If you look deep into his expression, you could see the red flush blooming on his cheeks, wanting to maintain his composure and give all of his teammates the meanest glare that he can muster. “My luck doesn’t require an exposure to all of you.”

Never in Takao’s life has he heard such a bullshit excuse.

“Are you saying it’s spiritual today? Can that stay permane—?” He was shut up by a kick on his ass.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

海常 KAIJO 秀徳 SHUTOKU

30 - 49

You’re in the bleachers, eyes never taking off the match. Excitement and nervousness fill your body—your leg bouncing up and down in your seat while you stare at the team of your school.

Your gaze landed on the four-eyed shooting guard. Pride swells in your heart every time he shoots a three-pointer. You never fail to show your enthusiasm whenever the whole team scores—especially him.

“LET’S GO, SHUTOKU!” You cheer loudly and proudly, and some of the audience thinks you were the leader of the cheerleader team.

Midorima hears your voice and still keeps his attention to his opponent. For some reason, he can feel the hot rush of blood pumping even more all over his body, passing through his teammates before lifting his arms to shoot a 3-pointer.

30 - 52

“Oh yes, Shintaro! That’s my guy!”

The audience cheer loudly with you—but your words can be heard all throughout the gymnasium. People who are close to you whisper in curiosity at your boldness, while others agree with you.

“You’re so amazing, Shintaro!” you shouted again with a bright grin.

Shintaro flinches, and his heart began to beat irrationally. He only lets out a ‘hmph’, not wanting to show his teammates the effect you have on him.

“You have quite the cheerleader, Midorimacchi,” Kise remarks teasingly, his eye focusing on the ball dribbling by the hand of his opponent. “I’m jealous.”

“Really? That’s coming from you?” Midorima comments snarkily at the hypocrisy of the blonde’s statement.

Takao who is getting screened by one of Kise’s teammates, quickly takes a glance at the bleachers to see you, his classmate who would rather be in an arcade than watch a basketball match.

Though their team is leading the game, he knew something was off with Shintaro’s performance today.

Like he can’t give his all yet.

Then his gaze falls on his friend, someone who is too silent—his hawk-eye didn’t miss the fidgety, uncertainty in his body language turned into relaxation on Shintaro’s face.

As if everything’s fine already.

He connects the two and stifles his laughter at his silent realization.

So that’s your lucky charm, Shin-chan.

“I’m so flattered! He made the basket because of my cheer, right?!” You said to a random stranger, who doesn’t know what to do with the question but agrees.

The match ended with Shutoku winning, and you jumped in your seat happily. You wanted to do nothing but congratulate them—you came down to the court excitedly, only standing by the side while you watched them catch their breath.

Shintaro sees you by the side, who only offers you an arrogant huff seeing the joy on your face. He sees you running towards him, holding a bottle of water and a clean towel (you stole it from their coach).

“Shintaroooooo!”

You engulfed him in your arms, not caring that he was sweaty. Unfortunately, he does not feel the same way—grimacing when he feels his sweaty skin touching your clothes. “You were so amazing out there!”

“Stop hugging me! This is literally so disgusting?!” He tries to distance himself from your grip; somehow, you’re stronger.

“I don’t care, Shin-chan! I’m just so happy for you!” You show him your widest and brightest grin, flustering Shintaro at your compliments. He yelps when he feels you slapping his back repeatedly. “You’re just like me!”

“What part of you exactly screams skilled?!” He was met with a harsher slap on the back, making him bite his tongue accidentally.

“That hurts!”

“ :D ”

Midorima grumbles and stops you by gripping your whole head with his hand. He glares down at you—the lack of anger in his voice tempting you to tease him further. “Hey.”

“Let me treat you out for dinner! All of you!” You have to crane your neck up to pinch his cheeks hard; the cuteness aggression in you awakens. “Awh, you’re just so adorable!”

“Shut up!”

Otsubo and Takao watch the interaction with a sweatdrop. The captain complains, “Do they really to have flirt here?”

“Can you really call that flirting?” Takao murmured uneasily. And it seems like his friend had heard him with how quick his head snaps towards him.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Say ah!”

You hold out the tip of your chopsticks with tempura in between in front of Shintaro’s mouth. He was trembling in humiliation at what you were doing.

“I don’t need you to feed me!” he turns his head away, making you sigh.

You are left with no choice but to force it down his throat, making him gag and grip your wrist to live. “Mmm! You are welcome, Shin-chan!”

You ignore his attempt to bicker with you as you happily eat down your food. Takao cannot stop laughing with tears, because watching you two has always been his entertainment.

“Hey, Takao. Is it true that you wanted me to be on your match?” You dodged Shintaro’s hand from silencing your voice. “You could have texted me, you know?”

Takao blinked before looking at Shintaro with a knowing smirk. “Oh, did I now?” Your four-eyed friend looks awfully freaked out. “I think someone else did.”

“Who?”

Takao deadpans at you, “You seriously don’t know?”

“I’m enjoying Shin-chan’s reactions, don’t stop me,” You already knew the truth right after he hung up the phone. You weren’t dumb. “You know how hot-and-cold he is.”

Midorima just wants to get the hell away from your table and bury himself in a hole.

Norman wasn't a saint. He didn’t pretend to be. But that didn't stop him from the horror flooding his heart at the sea of headstones.

Men. Women. Enemies. Allies. Robbers. Soldiers.

There was no distinguishing one from the other. No flag or insignia to define them. No way to tell who he knew. Which headstones were for the people he served with or the people he killed.

All blank slates. All nameless.

It was like he was neck deep in water; his body moved too slow. He could barely breathe. He didn't know how he was breathing.

From one grave to the next, his hand went over each one.

He had to find them. All of them. He had to.

He searched, even as night came and took his sight. His world was plunged into darkness. A darkness he was beginning to know. He kept looking.

Cold, unforgiving stone. It was all he could feel, but he had to find them.

His wife. His baby. Where was she?

Pain kept shooting up his body every time he stumbled against another headstone. Another nameless grave. He was going too slow. He wasn’t looking hard enough.

His breathing was all he had to tell him he was still alive…

He kept looking. He didn't have a choice he had to.

His baby.

Where was she?

He opened his mouth to scream her name, to call for her…

He didn't hear it. He couldn't.

His hands went to his throat. He felt the vibrations. He felt the pain as he screamed again.

He couldn't hear anything. There was nothing.

His nails clawed at his throat as he screamed again.

His baby. Her name. He couldn't hear her name. He couldn't hear it.

“*Nor—*Norman!”

He gasped for air and his body launched forward.

“Emma!”

Cold air burned his lungs. Sweat soaked through his shirt and his hands gripped the sheets.

One side cold. One side warm. The warmth that only came from a body.

“Norman?”

A broken sob spilled out as he finally registered it.

The voice. The soft scent of shampoo that wasn’t his own. A bed he now shared.

Y/N.

“Sweetheart—”

His hand reached for them and almost immediately his fingers brushed against their thigh. Their fingers met him there and gently curled around it, lifting it up to their lips.

Soft and sweet.

Their lips pressed to the back of his hand, his knuckles. Then they pressed his fingers to their pulse.

Quick. But steady. Present.

“M’here. M’right here,” they murmured. He could feel how their throat vibrated and moved with each consonant, each vowel. Their own pattern, their own sound.

His heart dropped as a terrible thought came to his head.

“What did I do?”

“Nothing. You didn't do anything.”

Not today.

It happened one time. He forgot where he was. And he pulled a gun on them. How they managed to talk him down, he didn’t remember. Ater that, he switched the gun to their side of the bed. To protect them from him.

They never used it.

They never blamed him.

They should've.

He did.

Gentle touches wiped under his eyes, then held the back of his head. Fingers running through the strands of his hair, lightly scratching his scalp just right. Soft lips pressed to his temple and arms wrapped around him.

He let them. And was then rewarded by a solid warmth against his cheek, the scent of their body wash, and a steady heartbeat pressed to his ear.

Their heartbeat.

A soft exhale and his arms wrapped around their waist, pulling them closer to him. Their body molded to his, their warmth a stark contrast to his sweat-soaked frame.

They didn’t complain.

Just held him and didn’t let go.

“… Do you want to talk about it?” they whispered.

“No.”

“Okay… Coffee?”

“… I’ll come with you,” he said.

They didn't try to protest and the two made their way out of bed. He heard them hiss from the cold air and the rattle of a hanger on the door followed. The faint rustle of clothing and a fluffier arm brushed against his back.

Made sense that they got their robe. They still weren't used to the Detroit winters. Even if it was on the verge of spring.

“How are you fine right now? It's freezing,” they grumbled.

“I've been in colder.”

Then his hand went to the back of their neck. And nothing warmed his heart faster than the startled squeak Y/N let out at the cold.

A small huff slipped out.

This… How did he manage to have this? So used to the silence in his house that would either deafen him or crush him… then Y/N, the neighbor’s sibling, just came around visiting and leaving extra food they “accidentally” made at the door. And fool that he was, one day, he invited them in to give them dinner as thanks. And they never really left since.

“I offer to make coffee and you decide to be an ass. Thanks.”

The slight crack in their voice. The faint laughter at the end…

He didn't know what he would do if he lost the ability to hear it.

Tea in one cup. Black coffee in the other; it was pressed to his palm, and he took it gladly.

“Thank you.”

He never liked things too sweet.

Lips pressed to his shoulder and a fluffy sleeve pet his back before they sat beside him and sipped their tea. The two just sat there. They were at a point that silence didn’t need to be filled. Only their cups. Then, their head rested on his shoulder once more and fingers traced along his back, the brush of their sleeve muted only by his undershirt.

“Yes?” he asked.

“I can’t just touch you?” they asked in return.

He scoffed at that and took their wrist in his hand, brought it over to his lips and pressed the back of their hand to it.

“No.”

But exceptions were always made.

a/n: I promise. I'll write for people that aren't Stephen Lang. One day. As of writing this, one day left before this poll closes, so have fun fellas. As I state at the end of all these: Drink some damn water, take your vitamins/meds, and rest well. You guys deserve it. 💛

"Hey y/n, come sit!" You smile at Wilson and make your way over, taking note of the grumpy looking man, whom you assumed was Wilson's friend Dr. Gregory House. Which was made certain when you saw his cane leaning against his chair.

"Wilson! Paying to have your "friends of the night" visit you at work? That's low even by my standards!" Wilson slaps House's shoulder and scolds him before turning to look at you apologetically.

"It's okay Willson. House is just jealous because he knows he will never be able to afford me." You revel in the questioning look on House's face and the shocked look on Wilson's as you sit down on the chair next to him.

You open your yogurt container and take a bite before looking between House and Wilson questioningly.

"What? Can't handle the truth?" House smirks at you while Wilson sighs loudly beside you.

"Great another House. Just what I needed." Wilson shakes his head solemnly from beside you as you lean back in your chair eyeing the man across from you. 'This is going to be fun.'

.........

Ever since your encounter with House in the cafeteria a few weeks ago, you two have become inseparable. Whenever you don't have a body to tend to in the morgue you're in House's office. His fellows have become accustomed to seeing you in House's yellow chair tossing his ball around or doodling on his whiteboard.

They have also come to learn that if House is nowhere to be found, he is most likely down in the morgue with you. Which is where they found him today. But instead of finding him in deep discussion with you, they walk in on the two of you fighting.

"You can not have one of the bodies! Especially not with the intention of shooting them in the fucking head!" You went along with all of House's stupid ideas (that's what made him fun), but this was crossing a line. A line that put your job on the chopping block.

House was acting like the man-child he is, actually stomping his foot at you and crossing his arms like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

"But mommy please!" He had the audacity to stick his bottom lip out at you and that was your last straw. You look at him blankly and walk past him to the doors.

"Do whatever you want. I don't care anymore." You swiftly walk past his fellows who look at you with pity written all over their faces. You paid no mind to them and continued to the elevators. The last thing you saw before the doors slid closed was House staring at you with a look on his face that you'd never seen from him before. Remorse.

..........

That was about an hour ago. Now you are sprawled across Wilson's couch in his office chatting with him about the most random stuff. That was until the door slowly opened and House walked through.

You turn and face away from him not ready to talk to him quite yet. However, that didn't deter him from talking to you.

"I just came to say that I talked to Cuddy and made it known that anything I do should not affect your job. And that I will take responsibility for anything I do that involves the morgue." This was a surprise to you, and also to Wilson according to his face. When you still didn't turn to face House he continued.

"I also wanted to apologize to you for trying to make you do something you didn't want to get involved with." At this point, Wilson was sure he was having a stroke and you were sure that you had completely fallen for House.

You had been fighting the idea of having a crush on House since the very first week of being with him. Hearing about his lack of emotions and empathy for others strayed you away from pursuing a relationship with him. But after him taking responsibility for his actions and apologizing to you, how could you stay away?

You turn to him with the coldest look on your face that you could manage. "You think you can just come in here and give some half-ass apology and believe that I would forgive you just like that!"

You relish in the confused expression on Wilson's and House's faces before bursting out in laughter.

"Of course I forgive you ya goof!" You jump off of the couch and grab his hand pulling him out of the office.

"I bet ya his head explodes!" Slowing down to a speed that House can keep up with comfortably, you start to pull your hand away. House stops you, however, by interlocking his fingers with yours.

"I bet you he doesn't scream no matter what happens." House pushes the down button to call for the elevator with his cane before looking at you. You smile back at him and bump your hip with his slightly.

"That's not fair he's dead!" He smiles at you and bumps your hip back. The elevator dings and opens to reveal all of his fellows who walk out informing House that their "patient" is ready to be scanned. You watch as their jaws drop when they notice your intertwined hands.

You giggle and follow House into the elevator waving goodbye to his fellows as the doors slide shut.

"They are never going to stop talking about this." He looks at you and smirks.

"I guess I'm just going to have to hide out in the morgue more often. I wonder if there is someone alive in there to keep me company?" You smile at him pretending to ponder on his question.

"I think I know someone who works there that might be interesting to talk to." The elevator dings and the doors slide open. You pull House once again and start making your way to the MRI lab.

"Enough sappy stuff! Let's go kill a dead guy!" You look back at House and he just shakes his head at you affectionately.

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