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lewmagoo · 2 months ago

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we own the sky | rhett abbott

part one: ain’t no love in oklahoma

series info: new parts will be uploaded every friday at 7pm est. want more? read the synopsis here. listen to the playlist here. see the posting schedule here.

description: in which you return to the place where you lost everything

warnings: 18+ only, heavy themes, character death, grief, blood and injury, angst with a positive ending, allusions to sex, eventual smut, inaccurate weather terms, please do not check my science lol this story requires some suspension of disbelief. i usually try not to say anything about reader's family in fics but i do mention them having an unnamed great-aunt, as it was necessary to the plot

pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader

notes: this story is inspired by twisters. you do not have to watch the movie in order to understand this story, because aside from the storm chasing aspect, it has nothing to do with the twister universe. i've been working on this story for 2 months straight, and it is my pride and joy. i am so excited for everyone to read it! without further adieu, here is we own the sky!

You never thought you would return to the place where you lost everything.

When you left, you had sworn to yourself that you would never come back. This part of your life, the unspeakable tragedy you had endured, had to stay in the past where it belonged. And for six years, you managed to make yourself forget while you moved on with life.

You knew it wasn’t just you who had been affected by what happened. It had touched the lives of multiple people, shattering everything around them. But while they had stayed, you had decided to run. Away from the agony, away from the memories, away from the man you loved. It was better that way. At least, that was what you told yourself.

Now you found yourself standing in the middle of the rolling plains of the place that you used to live, wisps of tall grass brushing against your legs as the breeze rushed over the earth. It was all so familiar, yet so foreign. You felt so out of place, like an alien that had just descended the sky and landed on Earth for the very first time.

As you bent to pluck a stalk of switchgrass, you were struck with a memory of the day you left. Sprawled out in the long grass, your first love lying at your side. Rhett Abbott. The man you had known since you were mere babies in the church nursery together. Saying goodbye to him was the hardest part of leaving. But in your heart of hearts, you knew this was the way it had to be. You couldn’t look at him without being reminded of all you had lost. Of all he had lost.

“I wish you’d stay,” his voice, filled with longing, cut into the still morning air. Such a contrast to the chaos that had transpired in recent days.

“You know I can’t,” you whispered, afraid that if you spoke any louder, your voice would break, and you would succumb to tears.

“We can figure things out, you an’ me. Work through it together.”

“Rhett–”

“Fuckin’ twister took so much from us. Now you’re leavin’, too.” Defeat was evident in his voice.

You sat up, turning to look down at him. “We talked about this, Rhett. I have to leave.”

He sat up, too, nodding somberly. “Y’don’t have to. You just can’t stand the thought of facin’ reality. So you’re runnin’ from it.” Then he rose to his feet, grass crunching beneath him. “Not all of us have the luxury of bolting when things get tough, honeybee. The rest of us have gotta stay and face it head-on.”

Then he walked away, and you let him, knowing this would be the last time you would see him. A love lost.

Yet here you were again, in the same field where your romance had ended. However, you weren’t here to see him. You had returned to tie up loose ends, and face the past you had spent the last handful of years running from.

Rhett had been right about one thing. You needed to face it all head-on. But you weren’t sure if you had the strength to do so.

Being back in your hometown of Wabang, Oklahoma was a surreal experience. Nothing and everything had changed all at once. Dorothy McIntyre still owned Mac’s Diner on Main Street. Mrs. Simmons still tended to her rose garden every single day, keeping it in pristine condition. The local Baptist church still looked exactly the same as the day you left.

It felt like the town was stuck in time.

But there were also some changes. A new bar had opened up in town. A coffee shop, too, which was quite the upgrade. Even though life was slow moving here, it still continued on, just like it did everywhere else.

Coming back was never something you thought was in the cards for you, but a handful of your family members had remained here when you left. Including your great-aunt. Sadly, she had recently passed away, and you’d surprised yourself by willingly volunteering to go sort through her belongings and prepare her house to be sold.

You had a good portion of vacation days saved from your job at the National Weather Service Headquarters, and you decided to take them while you had the chance. Instead of going on a fun getaway, you were cleaning out a house that was just a few steps down from a hoarding house.

Your poor aunt had gotten rather forgetful in her old age, and had let so much clutter accumulate. Her declining physical health and mental capacity had inhibited her from cleaning, and, unfortunately, her children were not the most diligent when it came to looking after their mother, so no one had helped her with clearing any of the clutter when she was alive.

That was where you came in. And you certainly had your work cut out for you. But you didn’t mind too terribly. You were glad to have a break from work. Monitoring weather was quite literally a 24/7 thing. You loved your job, but you often felt as if you were running about like a chicken with its head cut off.

Especially now. It was late spring, and the weather had been wild and unkempt. It had a mind of its own, and with all the freak storms ripping through seemingly every state in the US, the National Weather Service was extremely busy.

And here you were, in the heart of Tornado Alley, which had seen a record-breaking uptick in tornado activity this season. You couldn’t deny that the thought of being here during this season made your anxiety skyrocket.

Where you lived now, in Maryland, tornadoes weren’t commonplace. They happened, yes, but not nearly as often as they did in your home state of Oklahoma.

You had once loved studying the phenomenon of twisters. There had been a time when they fascinated you. A time when you chased after them to analyze their data. And then, one terrible, fateful day, while observing one of those vicious twisters, the unthinkable happened.

Six Years Ago

“This one’s gonna be a big one. I can feel it,” Rhett’s voice was laced with electric excitement. He was a live wire, blue eyes wide and glimmering with his eagerness.

His excitement rubbed off on you. You loved doing this together. It was what you were meant to do. “I can, too,” you replied with a grin, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

He leaned in, his gaze flickering to your lips before he ducked his head to kiss you languidly. “Ready to wrangle this twister?” He asked.

“As I’ll ever be.”

“Could’ya get a room?” Another voice cut across the site, interrupting your moment.

Rhett scowled as he looked over your shoulder to find his brother approaching. “Just for that, I’m kissin’ her again.” He pulled you in and planted another kiss on you, dialing it up to disgust Perry all the more.

You shoved at Rhett’s chest, giggling when you parted. “Maybe let’s not gross out everyone within a ten-mile radius,” you joked, though you still leaned in to steal one last peck from him.

“When you two are done neckin’, you might wanna pay attention to the radar. Winds are pickin’ up,” Perry explained, tapping the screen that was currently resting on the tailgate of Rhett’s truck.

“Think this one’s gonna touch down?” Came the voice of Rebecca, Perry’s wife, as she approached, tugging her ball cap down over her blonde ponytail.

“Look at them clouds. It’s gotta,” Rhett mused, motioning toward the sky. Angry, black clouds roiled in the distance. Perry was right, the wind was picking up. Although it wasn’t cold, it still sent a shiver down your spine.

Lightning crackled across the gray backdrop, and thunder subsequently rumbled in the distance. As you felt the first drops of cool rain, you locked eyes with Rhett. His face broke into a grin.

“Let’s get goin’!” He called out, retrieving his worn felt hat, the one you’d gotten him on his eighteenth birthday, and placing it atop his head.

You found yourself laughing with glee as you moved to scurry to the passenger seat of his rickety old GMC Sierra that had seen more storms than you could count. As you wrenched the door open, the sound of scrambling footsteps alerted you that someone was approaching quickly. You turned to find Lydia, your best friend, running toward you, her French braids bouncing wildly about.

“Don’t forget this!” She called out, shoving a walkie-talkie into your hand. Her own remained clipped to the waistband of her cargo pants.

“Thanks!” You replied. “You riding with us or with Perry and Bec?”

“I’ll ride with them, since they’ve got more room and all,” she told you. Unlike Rhett’s truck, Perry’s had a backseat.

“Okay, see you after the storm. Be careful, alright?” You surged forward and gave her a quick hug. Your friendship went way back to childhood, when you had met each other in kindergarten. You had been inseparable ever since. With your shared fascination with the weather, it was only natural that she would decide to chase twisters alongside you.

“Let’s go to that new ice cream place when we’re done!” She suggested when you parted.

“Sure, I’ll mention it to Rhett. See ya in a bit!” With that, you yanked the truck door open and climbed inside, while Lydia rushed off to get into Perry’s truck.

As you settled in the seat, you set your walkie down in the cupholder and grabbed the monitor you used to keep an eye on the weather radar. There, at the top of the screen, you saw the red banner that listed which counties had just been put under tornado watches.

Glancing back up at the sky, your heart quickened in your chest. While it wasn’t guaranteed that a twister would touch down, it was a very high possibility, especially with the string of storms that had ripped through the area lately.

“Let’s go chase this son’bitch,” Rhett murmured as he settled into the driver’s seat, tugging his seatbelt into place. He turned the key, and the truck roared to life. Without wasting a single moment, he threw the gear into drive and peeled out of the vacant lot you’d all been congregating in.

He kept to the east of the storm, offering you the best vantage point. Most storms moved northeast, at thirty to forty miles per hour, so you had to move fast to keep up. Rhett stepped on the accelerator, wasting no time. He was vibrating with adrenaline beside you, and it was infectious.

He always had been a bit of an adrenaline junkie. When he was in high school, he’d started bull riding competitively. He loved the thrill, the danger, the electricity he felt atop a thousand-pound animal.

Chasing twisters was similar to bull riding. Trying to hold on for dear life as an angry, churning force threatened to toss you through the air like a rag doll. Once he’d had a taste, he couldn’t get enough.

His love of the thrill and your fascination with weather made you a dream team.

Turning it into a family affair wasn’t necessarily the goal, but Rebecca found the phenomenon of tornadoes fascinating, and Perry was simply along for the ride, so the four of you started storm chasing together.

And of course, Lydia had been on board from the moment you suggested it. Much like Rhett, she also loved thrill seeking, and was content to join your little team. She was particularly good at analyzing storm data. Her entire motivation was figuring out how twisters worked.

Meteorology was a science that was relatively new. While the study of weather itself had been around for millennia, it didn’t quite progress until scientists began utilizing computers to analyze meteorological data.

Even with all the progress that had been made, tornadoes were difficult to study. Things like hurricanes and tropical storms were easier to predict and monitor. But not twisters. They were wild, uncontrollable beasts that could touch down at any moment and wreak all sorts of havoc in mere seconds.

Lydia wanted to learn all she could about the phenomena, and so did you. Your shared interest allowed you to work very well together.

You were so grateful for the little group you worked with. Four people you loved very much. You’d known Rhett, Perry, and Lydia your entire life, of course, and Rebecca was a newer addition. She’d joined you in the last five years, but she was an excellent asset with her history as a news meteorologist.

What a merry band of storm chasers you were, heading into the face of danger, hoping to encounter one of the most mysterious weather anomalies in existence.

“How’s she lookin’, darlin’?” Rhett asked, one hand reaching over to squeeze your thigh lovingly.

You gazed down at the screen in your lap, paying attention to the large highlighted region that showed which direction the storm was moving. The severity was mounting.

“Pretty intense,” you answered. Then, as if on cue, the telltale sound of hailstones began to patter against the roof of the truck. Your face broke into a grin.

Over the walkie, Lydia’s voice could be heard. “We’ve got hail!” She cried in excitement.

The shift in temperature was a good sign. These were peak conditions for a tornado to form in. You grabbed the hand Rhett had placed on your leg, giving it a squeeze. He squeezed right back.

Moments later, the hail died down, and you opened the truck window, listening. A crack of thunder in the distance. And then, a split second of utter silence.

The hair on the back of your neck stood on end.

You turned your head, looking straight at Rhett. The blue of his eyes was bright as could be, shining with anticipation.

And then, just beyond him, you saw it.

“Holy shit.”

He glanced to his left and saw it too. A few hundred yards from you, in the open fields, a funnel cloud had begun to form. Your eyes never left it, staring at the sky, willing the funnel to touch down.

“Come on, come on, come on.”

“We got touchdown yet?!” Rhett asked, eyes half on the road, half on the funnel.

Almost there. Almost there. Almost there.

And then, all at once, it made contact with the ground. Lydia was shouting through the walkie, and you grabbed the device to answer her. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your teeth chattering as adrenaline began to course through you.

What a beautiful sight it was. Terrifying and destructive, but beautiful.

“Goddamn, look at that,” Rhett breathed in awe. He kept his foot planted firmly on the accelerator, maintaining a fast pace, staying just ahead of the swirling tunnel of wind.

But your spirit of wonder soon dissipated as you noticed something. “It looks like it’s getting bigger,” you remarked. The change was obvious. It was covering more ground. Moving faster and faster.

Within seconds, your entire life was turned upside down.

“Oh my God. Rhett…” Your voice failed you, coming out as more of a whisper. You gripped his arm, and he quickly brought both hands to the steering wheel, knuckles white.

He gazed out at the approaching swirl, and he knew he was no longer chasing the storm. No, this time, the tides had turned.

Now it was time to run.

You scrambled for the walkie-talkie, fingers closing around the plastic, but it flew out of your hands as Rhett slammed on the brakes. You let out a yelp as you plummeted forward, seatbelt stopping you from hitting the dashboard.

“We gotta find cover!” He shouted, throwing the gear into park and unbuckling his own seatbelt. His face was awash with fright, pale as could be. He pointed to your right. “Old Miller property’s over there. Maybe we can make it to the storm cellar!”

Terror-stricken, you scrambled to open your door, tumbling out onto the asphalt. As soon as you righted yourself, Rhett was grabbing you, hand tight on your bicep, dragging you across the road. Your boots crunched against gravel, but you couldn’t hear the sound over the roar of the wind.

It was so close you could feel it tugging at your clothes. A vortex threatening to swallow you whole. If it overtook you, you’d never make it out alive.

Together, you dashed across an old wheat field, straight for the Miller farm. It had been abandoned for years, but the storm shelter remained, and it was your best chance at survival.

You could see it just up ahead, jutting slightly from the ground. But your legs ached, and your lungs burned like fire as you struggled to take in gulps of air. So close yet so far. Just a little further.

You’d never been so terrified in your life. You understood now what people meant when they said their life flashed before their eyes. Yours did at that moment, as you ran alongside the man you loved.

Images of your family, memories of all the good times you’d had with Rhett, flashes of laughing and singing and being young and foolish and so full of wonder. Was it all for naught?

“C’mon, baby! We’re almost there!” His desperate shout filled your ears. He yanked you toward him and you nearly lost your footing, and for one horrifying moment, you thought you were going to fall, but Rhett caught you in his strong arms, continuing on across the field.

By the grace of the Almighty, you made it to the shelter. Rhett threw himself down, lifting the iron bar that was fastened across the rusted doors. Hinges squealed as he heaved them open, and he pulled you forward, urging you down the rickety old ladder into the abyss below.

You scrambled down, and he followed, slamming the door shut as he did so. When you reached the end of the ladder, your feet hit the floor unsteadily, and you yelped as your foot gave out beneath you, ankle twisting painfully. But your injury was the least of your worries.

In the inky darkness, Rhett landed beside you and reached out, grabbing you, pulling you close.

“Rhett!” You sobbed, burying your face against his chest as he cautiously guided you away from the overhead doors.

“I’ve got you!” He assured you, holding you tightly. He pulled you both to the damp ground, and you curled up beneath him as he laid his body atop your own. “I’m here, baby. I’m here.”

He held you, his large hands covering your ears as the violent storm raged above you.

Often, tornadoes were described as sounding like a freight train, and you would agree with that statement, having witnessed so many of them. But right now, as you huddled beneath the ground right below the savage phenomenon, it didn’t sound like a train at all.

It sounded like the world was coming to an end.

You weren’t entirely certain how long you stayed down there, pressed against the earth, as Rhett shielded you. It felt like hours. Days. Weeks.

And then, all at once, it stopped.

The world went quiet again. Nature went back to its natural order. The danger had passed.

You laid there for a few moments, both of you breathing hard, hearts racing. You were trembling. So was he. But you were alive.

“Are you okay?” Rhett asked as he lifted his body from yours, kneeling beside you.

You sat up, trying to find your voice. “Y-yeah. Are you?”

“I’m fine,” he breathed.

And then, “Oh my God. Perry, Bec and Lydia!”

You hurried to stand, and Rhett grabbed your arm, leading you both through the dark, feeling for anything that might be in your path. Once he’d grabbed onto the ladder, he ascended it first, grunting as he reached up to open the doors.

Daylight flooded the cellar, and you shielded your eyes for a moment before you took hold of the ladder yourself and began climbing.

As you both emerged, the sight you were met with was harrowing. The old Miller farmhouse was entirely decimated, blown flat to the ground like a house made of popsicle sticks. The barn was destroyed, too, pieces of red painted wood littering the surrounding property.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ. That had to be an EF4. Maybe even a five,” Rhett said in utter disbelief, his eyes wide, jaw slacken.

A sob tore itself from your throat as you turned, fully taking in the level of damage around you. There was seemingly no sign of Perry’s truck.

“Do you think they found cover?” You asked, voice trembling.

Rhett’s face was grim, but he still said, “‘m sure they did, they’re smart, they’re probably just hunkerin’ down in a ditch somewhere.” Then he grasped your hand. “Let’s head out to the road and see if we can fine ‘em.”

You intertwined your fingers with his and followed, but your stomach was in knots. What if your friends had been consumed by the storm? What if they were dead?

As you walked, you both called out for them, hoping they’d hear and yell back. But your voices bounced off of the eerily silent countryside. Such a contrast to the chaos that had just transpired.

“They can’t have gone too far. They were right behind us,” Rhett spoke. You could hear the distress in his voice, although he was trying to keep himself steady for you.

You scanned the horizon, and that’s when you saw it. A long ways off, the silhouette of an overturned truck could be seen. Perry’s truck.

“Rhett,” came your whisper.

“I see it.”

Together, you broke into a run, sprinting across the road and into the field on the other side. Faster and faster, desperate to see what was inside the truck. Praying it was empty, that your friends had found cover.

You came to a stop once you were within a few feet of the truck, and Rhett held out his arm, glancing back at you as he caught his breath. “Just wait, I’ll check,” he told you.

You shook your head, breathing still labored. “No, let’s look together.”

Holding his gaze, a beat passed before he reached for your hand again. Together, you cautiously approached the truck, which was turned onto its side. It was severely battered, damaged beyond repair.

As you rounded the front, you peered down into the window and your blood ran cold. “Oh dear God.”

Rhett jumped into action, climbing atop the side of the truck. The driver's side glass was shattered, allowing him to reach in. “Per!” He exclaimed, gripping his brother’s shirt, tugging him upward. “Perry!”

But he got no response. The man was unconscious. A nasty gash marred the side of his head, crimson blood trickling down his face. He was terribly pale.

Beneath him, Rhett could see Rebecca. His heart sank like a rock. Just from the way she was positioned, he could tell she was not going to fare well. He couldn’t see if her chest was rising and falling or not. And when he squinted to look into the back seat, he saw Lydia, slumped over, but he couldn’t tell if she was dead or just merely unconscious.

“Are they alive?!” You couldn’t tell from your vantage point. All you could see was Perry and Rebecca. If Lydia was still in the truck, she was concealed in the back.

“I-I can feel a pulse, but Perry’s bleedin’ real bad. Call 911!” He didn’t give you any information about the girls.

“Rhett, the girls! Are they—”

“Just call an ambulance!” He repeated with urgency.

You did as you were told, hurrying to grab your phone from your pocket, hands shaking fiercely as you dialed the emergency number. You prayed you would get an answer, knowing the call lines would be flooded after the storm.

Moments later, an operator answered. Panicked, you explained your situation, begging them to send help. The woman remained calm, asking for your name and location, assuring you that assistance was on the way. You had no recollection of what you said to her. Everything was a blur, adrenaline giving you tunnel vision.

After you hung up the phone, Rhett jumped down from the truck. You threw yourself into his arms as he neared you, tears spilling down your cheeks. “They said they’re on their way,” you whimpered.

He hugged you close, and you could feel the way he trembled. “I didn’t…I didn’t want to pull him out. The EMTs should be the ones to do it, just in case anythin’ is broken.” While that was partially true, he was also terrified that if he started pulling everyone out, he’d find the girls were dead. It would bring reality crashing down upon him. The thought made his gut churn with dread, and he found himself praying to a God he didn’t even believe in, asking Him to spare his brother and his sister-in-law, and your dearest friend Lydia.

It took longer than usual, because so many ambulances had already been dispatched to aid those harmed in the storm. But as time ticked on, the more worried you became. “I’m scared,” you whimpered.

Rhett held you tighter, resting his cheek atop your head. He felt so powerless. “I know. Me too.”

Moments later, the wail of emergency vehicle sirens could be heard. Multiple ambulances and a firetruck approached, all pulling into the grass toward the scene. Rhett let you go, the two of you jogging ahead to meet the first responders.

“There’s three of ‘em in the truck!” Rhett exclaimed, “they’re all unconscious, from what I could tell!”

“We’ll get them out!” One of them assured you both.

You watched as they all rushed toward the truck, firefighters and EMTs alike. Helplessly, you remained on the sidelines, clinging to Rhett, fingers clutching the fabric of his t-shirt.

He wanted to tell you they’d be okay. That everything was going to be fine, that your friends were unharmed. But in his heart, he knew nothing would ever be okay again.

Perry was pulled from the vehicle first, still unconscious. Together, you watched as he was placed on a gurney, where an EMT hurriedly checked his vitals, searching for life.

“I’ve got a pulse, but it’s weak!” The young woman shouted.

He was alive. That was a good sign, right? Maybe it meant the girls were alright as well. You could only hope.

A saw was taken to the door, and it was removed so that the inside of the truck was more easily accessible. Then they pulled Rebecca out. She was so still, unresponsive as she was hauled down to a second gurney.

You heard a voice shout that they couldn’t find a pulse.

You placed your hand over your mouth, a grieved whimper escaping your throat. Rhett’s name slipped past your lips, and you buried your face in his chest, unable to watch. You could hear his sharp intake of breath.

Then Lydia was pulled from the wreckage. While you kept your face hidden against Rhett, he watched on, and he knew, just from the sight of her, that she was gone.

His grip tightened on you. It felt as if a dagger had been plunged into his chest. He sucked in a sharp, ragged breath, his eyes falling shut for a moment as the weight of what was happening settled upon him.

You lifted your head at that very moment, and you turned, realizing your best friend had been taken out of the truck. On instinct, you tried to pull away from Rhett. Tried to run toward the scene, to see for yourself if Lydia was alright.

But Rhett held you back. “No,” he told you.

“Let me go, I need to see if she’s okay!”

He repeated himself. “No.” He would not release you, no matter how hard you struggled.

Tears blurred your vision. “Rhett, please! I need to know if she’s alive!”

He grabbed both of your shoulders and looked right into your eyes. “Darlin’, stop! Just let ‘em do their jobs!” He didn’t want you near it. Didn’t want you to witness death up close and personal like that. It would haunt you forever.

Your knees buckled, and he caught you as you fell into him, wailing from the weight of your pain. Brokenhearted, Rhett cradled you in his arms, squeezing his eyes shut as his own tears made their way down his cheeks. This wasn’t happening. It wasn’t real. It had to be a dream. A nightmare.

And then one of the sheriff’s deputies was approaching. Linden Haynes. “You two need an escort to the hospital?” He asked, voice low. Knowing you’d both want to go in support of your friends.

Rhett nodded, trying to find his voice. “Yeah…yeah. Thanks. I, uh, don’t know where my truck got blown to.”

Linden hummed, his face sympathetic. “No problem. We’ll find your truck somewhere. Once things calm down, I can see if we can get some deputies searchin’ for it.” He moved to walk away, motioning for you both to follow.

“Linden, are…are they okay?” you heard yourself speak.

He turned, trying to mask his expression, but you could see it in his eyes. He had witnessed the wreckage firsthand. He’d seen the EMTs and firefighters rescuing your friends. He knew.

“Let the docs and nurses at the hospital tell you that, they’ll know more than me,” was his response.

Defeated, you followed him to his squad car, your body still leaning into Rhett. You climbed into the backseat together, and as soon as you were settled, you buried your face in your hands, trying desperately to hold yourself together. But you were unraveling, and the dread was threatening to swallow you whole.

The hospital was in a frenzy when you arrived. So many people hurt in the storm. You heard murmurs of the tornado being an EF5, which made your eyes go wide as you looked at Rhett. It was a wonder you’d even made it to safety.

Sitting there in that hospital waiting room was the most excruciating moment of your life. Hoping your friends would survive. Knowing that they might not.

Rhett was on the verge of potentially losing his brother. And while his relationship with Perry had been tumultuous over the years, he cared about him deeply, and couldn’t stomach the thought of losing him.

You sat side by side on vinyl-covered chairs, holding each other’s hands in a death grip, startling anytime a doctor or nurse walked by, thinking one of them was coming to give you an update.

Finally, an update did come.

You had no recollection of ending up on the floor. But there you were, crumbled against the cool tile as Rhett tried to console you, while simultaneously wracked with grief himself.

They were dead. Lydia and Rebecca. They were dead, and they had been since they were pulled from the wreckage. Perry, however, was alive, but just barely holding onto life.

The doctor was a family friend. He offered to contact yours and Rhett’s respective families. It was all a bur. And then you found yourself in Perry’s hospital room, which was stone silent, filled with dreadful anticipation.

Your memory of that day was patchy at best. Your brain had filtered out some of the more traumatic parts, forcing you to forget. The weight of your anguish made it feel as if you were underwater, being pulled down by a cinder block tied to your ankle. No matter how hard you pedaled, you couldn’t come back up to the surface.

Late into the night, Perry succumbed to his injuries, too. He slipped away, with his family surrounding him. Worst of it all? His four-year-old daughter was left an orphan in the wake of her parents’ deaths.

You lost a piece of yourself when three of the dearest people in your life were taken from you. It sent both you and Rhett into a spiral. He blamed himself. You blamed yourself. It was something you could not move past. Every time you looked at him, it was a reminder of that fateful day a twister took everything from you.

You couldn’t bear it any longer. So you ran. You left Rhett. You left all you had ever known. And you told yourself you would never come back.

Present Day

Until now.

You were hoping to go undetected. You weren’t sure if you could handle seeing anyone from your past. Least of all Rhett. With the way you left things between you and him, you doubted he wanted to see you anyway.

But you should have known you couldn’t hide forever.

You had been planning to stay in your aunt’s house while you were in town, but when you arrived and saw the dire state it was in, you realized sleeping there wasn’t feasible. So you decided to stay at the only motel in town.

Before checking in, you needed to stop by the store to buy a few necessities that you had forgotten to pack. You wondered if anyone would recognize you. Had you changed much physically over the last six years? You thought you had, but maybe others wouldn’t notice the change.

You managed to slip into the store without being recognized. You went about your entire shopping trip, remaining anonymous. You paid for your things without a single soul uttering your name. But just when you thought you were home free, you saw someone who made you stop dead in your tracks for the briefest of moments.

Cecilia Abbott.

Your heart rate picked up, anxiety sizzling through your veins like a live wire. She hadn’t seen you yet, too busy bagging her groceries to notice. Perhaps, if you were quick enough, you could evade her and make your escape.

You almost did, too. Until you heard the sound of your name being called.

You flinched, pausing for a moment, debating whether you should keep going. But then she was descending upon you and you had nowhere else to go.

“It can’t be! After all these years?!” The woman exclaimed.

Slowly, you turned around, trying your best to put on a pleasant expression, masking your look of distress. “Cece, hi!” You greeted. You had no idea how this was going to go. Would she be angry at you for walking out on her son? Would she welcome you back to town with open arms?

She stared at you in disbelief, shopping bag balanced in the crook of her elbow. “Goodness, how long’s it been?” But she knew how long it had been. She never lost count of how many years had passed since the death of her child.

“Six years,” you heard yourself reply. You wanted to crawl out of your skin.

“Wow. I can’t believe it.” Cecilia shook her head. “It’s almost like seein’ a ghost! Never thought you’d come back.”

“I didn’t either. But I, uh…I’m here cleaning out my aunt’s place.”

Her face softened, and she shifted, leaning toward you. “I’m sorry. She’ll be missed around here, that’s for sure. S’ a good thing you’re takin’ on the responsibility of cleanin’ that house, though. She did let it go in her old age.”

You hummed in agreement. “Yeah, she really wasn’t there mentally the last few years of her life. It’s sad. But, I’m hoping to have the house looking good as new when I’m done with it.”

Cecilia shifted her bag of groceries to her other hand. “Say, you got a place to stay while you’re in town?”

“I was going to stay at the house, but it’s too much of a disaster. I’m just gonna get a motel room.”

You should have known what she would say next. Gasping, she reached out and touched your arm. “Nonsense! You should come stay at our house!”

Your eyes widened. She wasn’t serious, was she? After all that had transpired? “Oh, I couldn’t do that, I wouldn’t want to impose.”

But once Cecilia Abbott’s mind was set on something, she wouldn’t take no for an answer. “No imposition at all! Home cooked meals, and a clean bed that doesn’t have bed bugs like that nasty ole motel does. The Bed Bug Inn, that’s what everyone calls it. Plus, we’re not that far from your aunt’s, just down the road. Closer than the motel is.”

She did have a point. But you couldn’t fathom the thought of stepping back onto the Abbott property again. You couldn’t face the demons you’d left there. “Cece, I appreciate it, but—”

“I insist. You at least need to come for dinner! I’m makin’ roast tonight, y’know, the one Rhett always loved? If you decide you still don’t want to stay after that, that’s fine. But you have to let me feed ya, I’m not gonna let you go hungry, girl.”

At the mention of Rhett’s name, your breath caught in your chest. “Oh, um… Rhett, how is he?” Your voice raised a little in pitch, and you cleared your throat.

“He’s fine. Still livin’ in the house with us, but he’s gone all the time. Storm chasin’ business keeps him busy.”

He was still chasing? “I can’t believe he’s still going after storms,” you spoke in disbelief.

Cecilia shrugged. “He never lost his love for it,” she mused. For a moment, there was a faraway look in her eyes, as if she was remembering something. Likely the way she had lost her son to the very thing Rhett loved doing.

Then she snapped out of it. “Anyway, come over for supper! Five o’clock!” Without giving you a chance to protest, she turned on her heel and bustled out of the store, leaving you with no choice but to take her up on her offer. You didn’t want to offend her by not showing up.

But could you handle it? Stepping back into the past, into a version of yourself that you had not been in six years. You thought of Amy, Perry and Rebecca’s daughter. She would be nine years old by now. Would she even remember you? Would she blame you for the death of her parents?

Surely not. She had been four when they died. You doubted a four-year-old had the emotional or mental wherewithal to blame you for the loss of her parents.

But it wasn’t Amy you were afraid to be reunited with. Not really. You were utterly terrified at the thought of seeing Rhett again. Would he be happy to see you? Would he be angry? Hurt? Confused? What would he say to you? How would you respond?

All these questions swirled through your mind as you sauntered back to your car. Maybe he wouldn’t even be home. But if you chose to stay at the Abbott’s, you would likely run into him at some point. Besides, you weren’t sure how long you were going to remain in town. You felt like you were taking advantage of Cecilia’s kindness. So, you determined that you would only go over for dinner. You would not stay the night.

With that thought in mind, you climbed into your car and headed back to your aunt’s house.

A few hours later, you were back in your car all over again, thrumming with anxiety, wondering if you were making the right decision. It would be so easy to turn back around, but you forced yourself to continue on, hands white-knuckling the steering wheel.

When you turned into the Abbott farm, you were hit with a wave of nostalgia so intense you slowed your car to a stop, staring at the house in the distance. It was the same as it had always been. A cozy house boasting of a well-kept garden, a bran off to the left with a nice coat of bright red paint. Chickens milled about the yard. Horses played in the field. Cows lowed in the distance.

It still felt like home.

With a deep breath, you eased off the brake and urged your car down the long driveway. As you parked near the house, you caught sight of a young girl with honey-colored hair, swinging on the rope swing that was tied to the tree in the front.

Your heart clenched in your chest. She’d grown so much. It was a reminder that life had continued in your absence.

Upon seeing you, she hopped down, eyes alight with joy. “Gramma! Gramma!” She called, rushing into the house to alert Cecilia to your arrival.

You took a moment to steel yourself before you climbed out of the car, shoes crunching against dirt and gravel as you approached the porch. As you ascended the steps, you were once again greeted by the little girl. Amy.

“Hi!” She exclaimed. “I’m Amy. Gramma says you can come on in!”

You couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “Hi, Amy. It’s been a long time. Last time I saw you, you were this big!” You held your hand low, indicating her size.

“I don’t really remember you. But Gramma and Grampa do. They said you and Uncle Rhett used to date.”

You were slightly taken aback, but recovered quickly. “Uh, yeah…yeah, we did. That was a long time ago though.”

Amy shrugged. “I wish he was still dating you. You’re super pretty!”

“Oh…thank you!” Was all you could say in reply. She certainly was prone to saying whatever came to mind. However, she moved on from it quickly, motioning you inside.

“C’mon!” She said, waving you on, and you moved to follow her, stopping at the door to take your shoes off before you ambled into the kitchen.

The smell of food cooking made your stomach growl, and you realized only then that you were very hungry. A home-cooked meal would do you some good.

At the sound of your footsteps, Cecilia turned, her face lighting up at the sight of you. “You made it! I’m so glad. Dinner should be ready in about fifteen minutes.”

You smiled softly, nodding your head. “Is there anything I can do to help?” You wanted to make yourself useful, rather than standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen.

“You can help me set the table!” Amy chirped, already walking to the table with her arms full of plates.

“Silverware’s in the drawer to the right of the sink,” Cecilia reminded you. But you remembered from the countless dinners you had been a part of here.

With a nod, you moved to gather enough cutlery for everyone, and as Amy set each plate down, you folded a napkin and placed the silverware upon it. You fell into a rhythm, stopping only to grab drinking glasses from the cupboard.

You noticed that the number of place settings was five. That had to mean Rhett was also joining the family for dinner, unless it was a place for someone else. You wanted to ask Cecilia if he was coming, but didn’t want to make things awkward, so you left it alone.

You were kept busy as she handed you different serving dishes full of various foods to put on the table. As you placed a basket of dinner rolls amongst the rest of the food, the sound of the back door opening caught your attention.

Your heart leapt in your chest, and you lifted your head, expecting to see Rhett. Instead, you were met with Royal’s look of surprise. Cecilia looked over at him and motioned to the sink. “Wash up, supper’s ready. We’ve got a guest.”

He nodded as he hung his hat on the peg on the wall, pausing to take off his muddy boots. “I’ll be damned,” he remarked, directing it at you. “Didn’t know you were back in town.”

“Saw her at the market today, so I invited her over. Didn’t tell ya because you an’ Rhett have been in that darn pasture with no signal all day.”

Royal hummed gruffly as he walked over to the sink to wash his hands. “Storm wiped that fence clean out. We had to replace every last post,” he sighed, “took us all day.”

“S’why we need to hire some hands, Roy,” Cecilia lowered her voice, but you still heard her.

Clearly this was something they talked about frequently, because he huffed and shook his head. But he didn’t continue the potential argument. Instead, he turned, drying his hands on a towel. His eyes regarded you kindly. “Been a long time,” he murmured. “Good to see you.”

You managed a smile. “Good to see you too.”

“Rhett on his way?” Cecilia questioned as she placed the final platter on the table.

Again, your heart fluttered anxiously at the mention of his name.

Royal nodded, pulling out the chair at the head of the table and taking a seat. “Yeah, he’s right behind me, he was just puttin’ up the horses.”

“Alrighty, we’ll wait to say grace until he comes in then.”

There it was again, that deep feeling of utter nostalgia. Cecilia had always been a religious woman, and not a meal went by where she didn’t pray over the food. That aspect hadn’t changed at all.

“You can sit here!” Amy announced, patting an open chair next to Royal. “Me and Uncle Rhett will sit across from you.”

You’d have to look into his face. You wouldn’t be able to hide your expressions from him. Rhett had always been so perceptive, more so than anyone gave him credit for. He was always considered to be aloof by those who didn’t bother to get to know him, but you knew that was far from the truth.

There had been a time when you knew him like the back of your hand. You wondered just how much he’d changed, if at all.

Just as you took your seat at the table, the squeak of the screen door opening filled the room, and the scrape of boots against linoleum followed. Seconds later, there he was. Blue flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows. Same brown hat he’d had since he was a teenager, which he pulled from his head to place on the hat peg.

“Uncle Rhett! Uncle Rhett! We have a guest!” Amy exclaimed.

He hadn’t turned yet. Didn’t know you were there. “Who’s that, li’l pea?”

“Your old girlfriend!” She giggled, covering her mouth with her hand.

He saw you then, and his eyes went wide. You swore the clock hanging over the sink stopped, causing time to stand still. Everyone else in the room faded into the background as Rhett became your sole focus.

Suddenly you couldn’t breathe, as if someone had taken their hands and squeezed the air right out of your lungs. In the background, you heard Cecilia talking, likely explaining that she’d seen you at the store and invited you over.

You doubted Rhett heard her, either. He was too busy staring at you.

Seeing him again brought so many overwhelming emotions to the surface. Pain. Sadness. Longing. And suddenly, it felt as if the walls were closing in on you. You needed to bolt.

Abruptly, you stood up, silently cursing yourself for your dramatics. “I–I’m so sorry, this was a mistake,” you squeaked, the legs of your chair scraping against the floor as you scrambled away from the table.

And then you were fleeing. Just like you had six years ago.

But this time, Rhett wasn’t going to let you go that easy. Shaking himself out of his momentary shock, his feet moved beneath him, carrying him after you. “Go ‘head an’ eat! I’m gonna talk to her!” He called over his shoulder to his family.

He threw open the front door, lurching out onto the porch. You were already at your car, wrenching the door open. “Wait!” He called out, dashing down the steps.

Tears were streaming down your cheeks. You didn’t want him to see.

“Would ya just– just stop!” He reached out, hand against your door, impeding you from opening it.

“Let go of my door, please.” You were surprised you had it in yourself to speak.

“Not until you look at me.”

You were afraid you’d fall apart if you did. “Rhett, please.”

A beat passed. Then another. You could feel his body heat, he was standing so close. You could smell the sweat and dirt that clung to him after a hard day’s work. But there was something else, too. Something sweeter. Like freshly baled hay.

Against your better judgment, you found yourself turning, drawn to him like a magnet. Your eyes finally met his, and you gasped softly. They were even bluer than you remembered. So clear and bright.

But there was so much emotion there, too. It swam within his irises, and you saw the glint of gathering tears. He drank in the sight of you, and his chest heaved as he took in a breath, then another. “I…I never thought I’d see you again,” he whispered, as if speaking louder would cause his voice to fail him.

“Me too,” you agreed, as quiet as he was. There was so much you wanted to say. But most importantly, there were a few words he needed to hear. “I’m so sorry, Rhett.” You succumbed to your tears, as they slid down your cheeks in hot trails.

His bottom lip quivered slightly, and he shook his head. “No, I…I should apologize. I shoulda been more understandin’. You were grievin’, same as me, and I wasn’t letting you do it in your own way. I made you feel like you had to run away, and I’m sorry.”

“Is that what you think? That it was your fault?” Your voice trembled.

He shrugged, sniffling softly. “S’what I always assumed. Thought it had to be somethin’ I did.”

The thought of him living with that these last several years made your heart ache. “It was never your fault. It was me. I couldn’t face what happened. I thought…if I left, it would be easier. I could move on faster.”

Being reassured that it wasn’t his fault made him relax slightly, the tenseness leaving his shoulders. But there was still a shadow of sadness on his face. “Was it easier?”

At that, you shook your head, scoffing slightly. “No. Honestly, I think leaving you made it worse. I’m so sorry I did that to you. I’ve never really been able to forgive myself for it.”

“Guess we both have a lotta things we couldn’t forgive ourselves for,” he murmured. Then he bowed his head for a moment, gathering himself before looking at you again. “For what it’s worth, I ain’t holding it against you. Losin’ the three of them was the hardest fuckin’ thing we ever had to go through. I don’t blame you for leavin’ to see if it would make you feel better. You did what you thought you had t’ do.”

A fresh wave of tears welled in your eyes. “Oh, Rhett.” Without a second thought, you found yourself moving forward, wrapping your arms around him. He was caught by surprise for only a moment, and then his own arms, strong and steady, came up to encircle your waist.

You stood there in the middle of the driveway, holding each other for what felt like hours. When you parted, you were both wiping at tear-streaked cheeks.

“S’good to see you again, by the way,” Rhett said. “I mean it.”

“It’s good to see you too,” you replied honestly. Now that your initial upset was out of the way, you realized it felt as if a weight had been lifted from your shoulders.

“What, uh, what are you doin’ back in town?”

“Cleaning out my great-aunt’s place,” came your answer, and he nodded in realization. “I ran into your mom at the store today, she invited me over. I didn’t really want to come, I was scared to face you again.”

He hummed in understanding. “She knew what she was doin’. She wanted us to talk. She’s a meddler like that.” There was a twinkle in his eye as he spoke.

You couldn’t help but smile despite yourself. “I should’ve known it was a ruse. She’s convincing, that’s for sure. She’s also watching us right now.”

When Rhett turned, he found his whole family watching through the front window. Upon seeing him turn, they all rushed away from the window, dropping the curtain.

He faced you again, and there was a smile on his face. “I’m glad she convinced ya, then. Can’t tell you how good it feels to clear the air after all this time. Losin’ you was rough on me, but I’m happy you’re back, even if it’s only for a small visit.”

“I’m happy too. And I’m happy you stopped me from leaving this time.”

His eyes twinkled like stars, and he nodded toward the house. “Wanna head back in for supper?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

Together, you walked back into the house. While there was so much you had missed in your time apart, and so much you still needed to reconcile with each other, you were relieved that the air was clear for the time being. You hadn’t expected Rhett to welcome you back with open arms, but you were thankful he had.

It broke your heart that he had spent so much time believing he was to blame. It was your own inability to face your grief that was the culprit, not this sweet, blue-eyed cowboy. Never him. But maybe there was a new beginning between you. A chance to let the past remain where it belonged.

When you stepped into the kitchen and took your seat at the table, the trio was pretending they hadn’t just been spying on you and Rhett. However, it was Amy who gave it away, giggling behind her hand.

“You guys’re menaces,” Rhett grumbled as he placed a serving of potatoes on his plate.

Cecilia tried to hide her smile, though ultimately failing. She looked at you, and her gaze was kind. “I’m sorry. Maybe I was a little…overzealous about makin’ sure you and Rhett saw each other again. But it worked, didn’t it?”

You couldn’t hold it against her. Without her meddling, you never would have spoken to Rhett. You likely would have done what you came to do and left town without a single glance in his direction.

Cecilia had known that it was a chance for you to reconcile with Rhett. Holding on to something that happened years ago wasn’t healthy. She saw the opportunity to ease her son’s pain, and yours, and she took it. Thankfully, it had worked out in her favor.

You couldn’t believe it had been that easy to reconcile with him. Even after you’d stormed off, upset, he’d still been willing to talk to you. It spoke volumes of his growth. Past Rhett wasn’t very good at communicating. But present Rhett seemed to have gotten much better at it.

Dinner passed without a hitch, although there was still some slight tension. No one spoke of Perry, Rebecca, or Lydia. You got the sense that Royal and Cecilia were avoiding the subject. Likely because Amy was present. You had no idea how much she knew about that day, but you had no desire to bring it up.

Conversation instead shifted to what you were doing with your life.

“Where you workin’ now?” Royal asked, leaning back so that Cecilia could take his plate and clear the table in preparation for dessert. She’d denied your offer of help, insisting you sit and talk, because you were a guest.

“I work for the National Weather Service, up in Silver Spring, Maryland.”

“No kiddin’?” He replied, eyes glimmering with intrigue. “What d’ya do there?”

You took a sip of your water before you answered. “I’m an analyst. I analyze weather data from all over the country. I work with a team and we try to predict, as best we can, what the weather is going to look like.”

“Sounds intense,” Rhett spoke up. You glanced over at him. He was leaning back in his chair, balancing on the back two legs.

Until his mother slapped her dish towel against his arm. “Stop leanin’ back in that chair. The legs’ll give out.”

He corrected his chair right away. You couldn’t help but smile at the interaction. “It is kinda intense. But I love it. Keeps me on my toes,” came your reply.

“Can’t take the storm chaser outta the girl, huh?” He hummed, catching your eye with a knowing look.

He was right. Although you’d stopped chasing storms, you still did just that, except it was from a much safer distance this time, through a set of screens. There was no chance of those around you dying grisly deaths brought on by a wicked twister.

“Guess not,” you finally agreed.

Before the conversation could continue, Amy happily interrupted, flouncing up to the table to set down a handful of dessert plates. “Gramma made your favorite, Uncle Rhett,” she announced, beaming at him.

He grinned, pulling her into his side as she squealed. “Did she?” He asked, laughter in his tone as he jabbed his fingers into her sides, while she laughed uncontrollably and tried to wriggle away from him.

You watched the exchange, and your heart went warm in your chest. But you were also hit with a wave of sadness. This sweet little girl was growing up without a mother and father. These three people in this room were all she had in the world.

“Y’alright?” Rhett’s voice jarred you, bringing you back to reality. You hadn’t realized that tears were making their way down your cheeks.

“I…I’m fine,” you answered.

“Alright, here’s some blackberry pie!” Cecilia’s voice rang across the kitchen, interrupting your moment of melancholy. But you were grateful for the distraction.

The pie was cut, and everyone was given a slice, along with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and a cup of coffee. Conversation around the table shifted to Amy’s schooling, and she eagerly listed the number of weeks that were left of school.

But you could feel Rhett’s eyes on you from across the table the entire time. The intensity of his gaze made you feel as if he could see right into your soul. That was how it had always been. Looking at him felt like staring into the sun, at times. So bright and beautiful, but impossible to stare at.

That hadn’t changed, even years later. Same intense look.

When dessert was finished, Amy got up to help Cecilia clear the table. Royal headed upstairs to presumably get ready for bed. And Rhett stepped outside onto the front porch.

“Can I at least help you clean up for the night, Cece?” You asked, hoping to do something, anything to feel useful.

“Don’t you lift a finger. Amy and I have got it.”

“You sure?”

“‘Course I’m sure,” the woman insisted. Then, “Have you given any thought as to if you might stay here?”

You hesitated. “Oh, I, uh…I don’t know. I really don’t want to be a bother.”

She huffed, shaking her head. “I already told ya at the store, it’s no bother! ‘Sides, it’s gonna be dark soon, and it gets so pitch black out here, drivin’ into town isn’t safe. And if you stay, you’d be wakin’ up to a home-cooked breakfast in the mornin’.”

With a sigh, you finally relented. Mostly because you were too tired to argue with her. “You drive a hard bargain. Fine, I’ll stay.” It was a good thing you hadn’t taken your luggage out of the car yet.

Cecilia beamed. “Then it’s settled.”

“I’ll just go get my stuff from the car,” you remarked, already turning to put your shoes back on.

“Have Rhett help you. I think he just stepped out onto the porch,” she suggested.

With a nod, you made your way out the door, hinges squeaking as you stepped onto the porch, shoes thudding lightly against weather-worn wood.

Sure enough, Rhett was there, seated on the bench near the door. His legs were stretched out in front of him, and he was leaning back, eyes fixed on the sky.

When you came out, his gaze shifted to you, and he smiled softly. “Hey,” he said, sitting up a little straighter.

“Hey.” An awkward silence soon followed. There was so much hanging in the air between you both. Words left unsaid. “Your momma asked me to stay the night.”

He hummed, nodding as he looked back out across the sprawling land that was the Abbott farm. “Figured she would. Her and that bleedin’ heart of hers.”

“She suckered me into it with the promise of a home cooked breakfast.”

He scoffed playfully. “You get a home cooked breakfast and I get a piece of fuckin’ toast.”

“I’ll share with you.”

His smile turned into a grin. Then he fell serious. “Speakin’ of sharing, you can sleep in my room.”

At that, you shook your head. “Oh no, that’s asking too much. Isn’t there a pull-out bed in the living room couch? I can sleep there instead. It’s where I used to sleep when I’d stay over, remember?”

“Boy, do I,” he hummed. When you were teenagers, Cecilia was insistent that you did not share a bed if you stayed the night. You’d sleep on the pull-out bed in the living room, far away from Rhett’s bedroom upstairs. It didn’t stop him from sneaking down to talk to you in the middle of the night, though.

He continued, “But ya already served your time on that old couch. I’ll sleep there. My bed’s all yours.”

“Rhett—”

“Hey now, don’t argue with me. We both know I always win ‘em anyway.”

You rolled your eyes, folding your arms over your chest as you shook your head. He was right, after all. He’d always win you over with kisses dispersed all over your face until you relented with laughter.

“Fine. I’ll take your room then,” you replied.

He hummed in satisfaction, and silence fell between you again. It felt so strange, being back in his presence. You felt as if you didn’t belong here, on this porch with him in the late spring night. In your anxious imaginations, you had always assumed he’d never reconcile with you, so you never tried to reach out and make things right.

But all it had taken was one tearful conversation, and a sense of civility had been restored between you.

“Why did you forgive me so easily?” Came your question, spoken into the quiet air that hummed with the sounds of nocturnal creatures.

Rhett eyes flickered to you. “Because I spent too long wallowin’ in hurt, and I couldn’t handle carryin’ all of it anymore. I don’t wanna be stuck in the past. I want to move forward. Forgivin’ you is the best way to do that.” Then he added, “plus, I never could stay mad at you. Guess that still holds true to this day.”

Tears welled in your eyes again as you digested his words. You hated that you’d caused him so much pain. If only you’d been able to work through your grief instead of running from it. But that was in the past. There was nothing you could do to change it. However, you could use it to be a better person in the future.

“I’m sorry I—”

But he held up his hand. “Don’t need to ‘pologize again,” he assured you, gentleness in his tone.

You closed your mouth and nodded, and then you decided to take a seat next to him. Several minutes of silence passed again. Again, you were the one to break it.

“I’m glad I decided to come tonight. I almost didn’t take your ma up on it.”

“I’m glad y’ did too.” He turned his body toward you so he could look into your face. “Six years is a long time.”

“It really is. I can’t believe it’s been that long. And Amy…she’s gotten so big.”

“She has. That little girl’s the apple of Mom and Dad’s eye, I’ll tell you what.”

You couldn’t help but smile fondly. “Looks like she’s the apple of yours, too.”

Rhett made a noise of agreement. “I see ‘em in her. Bec and Perry, that is. She’s a bit of a firecracker. Takes after her dad in that way. But she’s smart as a whip, we’re talkin’ wicked smart, like her momma. And some of the things she says, the tone she says them in…god, it sounds just like Bec.”

“It must be so cool to see them live on in her like that,” you whispered.

“It is. But it’s hard, too. Thinkin’ about the way things would be if they were still here.”

“Does she remember them?”

He shrugged, shifting his gaze to the night sky above you, shimmering with stars. “Bits an’ pieces. She doesn’t remember whole details. Plus she was so small…I don’t rightly know what she pictures in her head when she talks about it.”

Your heart broke for the girl. “Poor thing.”

Rhett nodded his head. “I know. But she’s doin’ alright. Brings a lotta joy into our lives.” Even in the dim light, you could see the way his eyes sparkled with love. Family had always been so important to him. Even more so now that he’d lost part of it.

You had to swallow the urge to cry. “That’s good.”

A beat passed before Rhett changed the subject, eager to move on to lighter conversation. “So…weather analyst, huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

That drew a shy smile out of you. “It’s no big thing. I have a whole team of people who work with me.”

“It’s a pretty damn big deal to me. You an’ that smart brain of yours. It’s no wonder you want on to work for the fuckin’ National Weather Service.”

At his compliment, you ducked your head, a little embarrassed. “I really like the job. It’s kinda stressful, though. Weather never takes a break like us human beings do.”

“You’re tellin’ me. You shoulda seen the storms that rolled through here last week. One right after another.”

That prompted you to ask the question you’d been dying to know the answer to all night. “Your mom said you’re still chasing.”

Rhett nodded his head as he shifted against the bench, wood creaking beneath his weight. “Yeah. It ain’t just me, either. I’ve got a whole team workin’ with me.”

Your gaze fell to your lap, where your hands were loosely clasped. “Was it…was it hard getting back to it, after they died?” You softly questioned. That was why you’d never gone back to storm chasing. You couldn’t bear the thought of doing so after all you'd lost.

“Sure was. I didn’t start back up until a year later. That first time I got back out there…man, I almost couldn’t do it. I just kept thinkin’ of them. But then it sorta turned into a way to honor them an’ keep their memory alive. So I’ve been doin’ it ever since.”

“That’s good you were able to get back into it.”

“How ‘bout you? Been out there runnin’ after any storms lately?”

“No,” you answered quickly. The thought made your stomach turn.

“Y’ should join us next time it storms,” came his suggestion.

“I’d rather not.” You were hoping he would drop it.

“C’mon, it’ll be like old times.”

“I don’t want it to be like old times. We lost three of our best friends during old times. I can’t…I can’t face another tornado. I’m scared to death of them now. I’ll never storm chase ever again.” You were on the verge of tears.

He got the message then. “Alright, fair enough. Didn’t mean to upset ya.”

You sighed, shoulders dropping. “You didn’t upset me. It’s just more of a sore subject than I realized,” you said. Then, “and now that I’m back here, I’m so scared more twisters will come through.”

Rhett understood where you were coming from. But he also believed in facing one’s fears. For the most part, at least. There were still some things that filled him with fear that he couldn’t bear to face.

“More will definitely come. They ain’t been that bad this season so far. Last week was rough though. Had a couple EF3s that hit some neighborin’ towns. We’ve been helpin’ out a lot. The team I’m workin’ with…they’re big into charity. We’ve been able to donate to people who lost their homes. We’re hopin’ to raise enough money to get building supplies that can help rebuild all the damaged homes.”

You raised a brow, surprised. Not over the fact that Rhett wanted to help people in surrounding communities, but over the fact that his team had done so much. That was more than you’d ever been able to do when you were chasing with Perry, Rebecca, and Lydia.

“That’s really amazing,” you remarked.

“Yeah. Hate seein’ the damage twisters can do, but I’m glad we can at least do somethin’ to help, even if it’s small.”

You had so many more questions about his storm chasing. But you also wanted to change the subject. Your heart was heavy from the old memories going through your mind. So, you asked about another thing that was part of the past.

“Did you ever go back to bull riding?”

Rhett let out a sharp breath, suddenly finding a small tear in his jeans very interesting, fingers sliding over the work fabric. “Hell no.”

“I always wondered about that. If you’d gone back to it after I left.”

“Nah. Never could stomach the thought of gettin’ back on one of them beasts.”

“Yet you’ll chase twisters with no problem.”

“That’s different.”

“How? Both could kill you.”

Rhett didn’t have an answer for that. But he did know he never wanted to experience what he’d been through in that arena all those years ago.

It happened before you’d started storm chasing together. He was gunning for a career in pro bull riding, and he was headed toward the top. He had it all. Until it came crashing down one night when he suffered a life-threatening injury when he didn’t get out of the way of an angry bull fast enough.

You’d never forget that night. And neither would he. You’d been volunteering at the rodeo. You were certified in first aid, and you were able to work alongside the on-site medics tending to riders with injuries, so you had access to the riders-only area.

But what Rhett suffered was no minor injury. The bull’s horn caught him right beneath the hem of his protective vest, impaling the soft flesh of his lower abdomen. You remembered so vividly the way you’d cried out his name. The way he’d been carried out on a stretcher.

You remembered tearing his vest off of him and seeing blood. So much blood. You remembered pressing your hands to the wound in an effort to slow the bleeding as he grew pale beneath you. You remembered begging him to hold on, assuring him that help was on the way.

You almost lost him that night.

The injury scared the hell out of him. It required surgery to repair the internal damage, and it took him out of riding for months. And by the time the doctor cleared him to ride again, he knew he couldn’t. Not after he’d stared death in the face.

He had a permanent scar on his abdomen, a reminder of what he had endured.

Rhett never wanted to experience that again. So he hung up his riding vest for good. But he was still a thrill seeker. And when you expressed an interest in storm chasing, he’d eagerly agreed, because it gave him a chance to feel alive again, just like he always felt when he was sitting on the back of a raging bull.

Now you had traded places. He was too afraid to mount another bull. You were too afraid to go after another twister. It seemed that you had more in common than you realized.

“Guess we’re both scared of something,” you remarked, wrapping your arms around yourself as the evening chill crept up on you like the chilled fingers of a ghost touching your skin.

“Guess so,” Rhett agreed.

Your conversation fell stagnant, and you found yourself growing sleepy. You had only just arrived back in Oklahoma that morning, and the night before, you hadn’t slept well. The exhaustion was beginning to catch up with you.

“I should probably turn in before I fall asleep out here,” you mumbled, followed by a yawn.

Rhett made a sound deep in his throat before he rolled his neck, joints cracking. “I’ll help ya with your stuff,” he offered as he stood.

You followed suit, motioning to your car. The two of you headed down the porch steps, where you popped the trunk, revealing your luggage. You watched as Rhett heaved the bags out of the car, his forearms and biceps bulging beneath the rolled sleeves of his shirt.

You were reminded that he was still just as strong as ever. Lifting your suitcases hardly took that much strength, you knew, but Rhett was a farm boy. He’d been strong his entire life, thanks to lifting bales of hay and performing other tasks of manual labor. When he was riding bulls, his core and leg strength had been excellent. Those strong thighs of his allowed him to hold tightly to those raging animals.

He’d taken on some size since you’d seen him six years ago. His shoulders were more broad. His arms were bigger. His thighs were meatier. Or maybe his jeans were simply too tight, hugging the curve of his quad muscles.

In the kitchen, you hadn’t fully admired him. But here, beneath the night sky, illuminated by the glow of the porch light, you saw him. His stubbled jaw, his twinkling eyes, his small pink mouth the button nose you’d always loved.

You remembered teasing him and telling him he had an elfin nose, that he had inherited it from a mystical creature. You had adored the way his ears would turn red whenever you said it.

Oh, how things had changed. There had been a time when you couldn’t picture your life without him. And now, you’d been without him for so long that you’d forgotten what it felt like to love and be loved by him.

“Y’alright?” Rhett’s voice jarred you, and you shook yourself out of your reverie.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, sorry. Just sorta zoned out.”

The knowing look in his eye told you he’d caught on to the fact that you were staring at him.

“C’mon, I’ll take you upstairs.” With that, he slammed your trunk shut and gathered your bags again before he headed toward the house.

You trailed after him, closing and locking the front door behind you, assuming everyone was in for the night. Then you ascended the stairs, allowing Rhett to lead you down the hall, all the way to the end, where his room was.

He nudged the partially open door with his foot, and stepped into the dark confines, depositing your luggage onto the bed before he bent to turn on the bedside lamp. You were met with the sight of a surprisingly neat bedroom.

The times you’d been here in the past, his room had never been terribly messy, but random clutter would accumulate in different corners. He was never really the type to make his bed either, because he always said, “I’m gon’ sleep in it again, so why bother?”

But now, the bed was neatly made, and hardly any clutter hid in the corners.

“I ain’t been stayin’ here much, so it stays pretty neat,” he explained, as if reading your mind.

“Too busy storm chasing?” You asked.

“Yeah. Stay in a lotta motels when I’m on the road.”

You sauntered into the room, taking in the coziness of it all. Hardly anything had changed. His plaid bedspread was the same. His curtains still matched the bedding. Art pieces of cowboys riding bulls decorated the walls. A picture of Lane Frost hung just above his desk.

A sense of nostalgia washed over you. Being in this room felt like coming home.

“Welp…guess I’ll, uh, let you get to bed,” Rhett murmured. He paused in the doorway, as if he wanted to say something. “I’m glad you’re back, by the way.”

That brought a smile to your face. “I am, too.”

He rapped his knuckles against the door frame. “Anyway, ‘night.”

“Goodnight.”

He reached out to pull the door shut, leaving you in silence, alone for the first time since you had arrived at the house. You let out a breath, and lowered down to sit on the edge of the bed, allowing yourself to process everything.

Your arms splayed out on either side of you, palms skimming over the softness of the bed. You closed your eyes, and allowed the memories to wash over you. It was here, in this very bed, that you had lost your virginity to each other. You were young and in love and driven by your passion for one another.

Many times after that, you had made love in this room. And as you closed your eyes, it was as if you were reliving those memories. The feeling of his mouth on yours, and his hands on your heated skin. The way he would moan your name into your mouth when you shifted your hips against his own, searching for delicious friction, so eager to have him inside you.

As your eyes fluttered open, you were struck with a feeling of emptiness. How long had it been since you’d been with anyone in such an intimate way? Your job hardly left you time for romantic relationships. You hadn’t really put yourself out there, because you knew your busy career would likely deter anyone who wanted any sort of future with you.

As you readied yourself for bed, you thought about how alone you had felt these last few years. Alone in your grief. In your pain. At least Rhett had his parents to lean on as they endured the loss. You had no one who truly understood.

Silver Spring was a perfectly nice community to live in, and you had made some good friends during your time there. But nothing compared to the community you once had here in Wabang. No one compared to Lydia, your dearest friend. Your bond had been a sisterly one. You were kindred spirits. You’d never been able to find that again in any of the friends you made in your current home city.

But now that you were back in Oklahoma, the sense of familiarity was nearly overwhelming. You were home. Even if you didn’t realize it yet.

That night, you got the best sleep you’d gotten in a long time. Rhett’s bed was comfortable, and the house was quiet. All that could be heard outside was the distant howl of a coyote, and the sounds of nightlife creeping about.

When you woke the next morning, it was to the sound of a rooster crowing. You lay there for a while, staring up at the ceiling, relishing in the feeling of being rested. Your body didn’t ache. Your head wasn’t swimming with tiredness. You were at peace, which was something you hadn’t felt in ages.

You could hear the sound of the Abbotts milling about the house. Cecilia was likely in the kitchen starting breakfast. Royal was probably already outside, getting a head start on the day’s chores. Rhett, too, who’d always been responsible for checking on the animals and making sure they were fed.

Not wanting to walk out in your tank top and sleep shorts, you were quick to throw on some clean clothes before you headed across the hall to the bathroom to wash your face and make yourself look somewhat presentable.

When you finally made your way downstairs, you were hit with the smell of food cooking. The coffee pot hissed and sputtered in the corner, nearly finished with its brew cycle. Amy sat at the table, doodling in a notebook. When she saw you, her face lit up.

“Mornin’! I was wondering when you’d come down! You slept for a super long time.”

“Amy,” Cecilia cautioned.

“It’s okay,” you assured her, before turning to Amy, “I needed the rest.”

“Well you came down just in time! Gramma’s making pancakes.”

“Sounds good!” Came your response, as you moved to grab a glass from the cupboard to fill with water. Your mouth felt parched.

“How’d you sleep, hon?” Cecilia asked as she stirred a bowl of pancake batter.

“Like a baby,” you said, bringing your glass to your lips to take a sip. You watched as she poured the batter onto a hot skillet, bubbling with melted butter. “Just so you know, I don’t expect you to make breakfast for me every day. I know you only make big breakfasts on Saturdays and Sundays, I don’t expect pancakes and eggs and bacon every day of the week.”

It was Thursday, so it wasn’t a typical day for her to make breakfast for the family. The weekday mornings were always called “fend for yourself” mornings, where the family was responsible for preparing their own respective breakfasts.

“Nonsense! I’m happy to do it, you need fuel if you’re gonna be cleanin’ that house all day,” she insisted.

You smiled gratefully. “Thank you. Really, it means a lot.”

She ushered you to the table, assuring you breakfast would be ready momentarily. You chatted with Amy once you settled into your seat, and just as breakfast was being put on the table, the screen door squealed open, and in stepped Royal, lifting his hat off his head and placing it on the peg on the wall.

He greeted you, nodding in your direction. “Mornin’,” he said as he took his seat at the head of the table.

Cecilia placed a cup of black coffee beside his plate, and he thanked her with a wordless hum. Typical morning small talk followed as everyone began filling their plates. But the quiet chatter was soon interrupted by the screen door opening again.

Rhett hurried into the kitchen, boots scraping against the floor as he made a beeline for the table. You could see a wildness in his eyes, and it made your heart rate quicken. Your gaze flickered to the kitchen window, where you could see distant gray clouds.

“Gotta take breakfast to go, storm’s brewin’ over in Cimarron County,” he announced as he reached over Amy’s head to grab a pancake. He shoved a few pieces of bacon inside and folded it up like a taco. “Team’s on the way here to meet me.”

“Please be careful!” Cecilia called after him as he turned on his heel to head back to the door.

He grabbed a backpack that was sitting on the bench in the entryway, presumably packed with necessities. “Always am, Ma,” he replied. Then he looked at you, his hand hovering over the doorknob. “You wanna come?” Hope was in his tone.

His offer shocked you. You certainly didn’t expect it, not after what you had told him last night. “No, I…I’ll stay here,” you answered.

“Alright, see ya soon!” And with that, he was off, door slamming shut behind him.

You weren’t sure what drove you to do so, but you found yourself surging up from your seat, feet carrying you quickly to the door. You flung it open and rushed out onto the porch. “Rhett!” You called.

Midway to his truck, he stopped, whirling around. “Yeah?”

“Be safe!” He’d just come back into your life. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing him.

His face softened, and he smiled. “I will be. I promise.” Then he turned and continued on to his truck. Still that old GMC Sierra with the light bar on top. It had been blown off the road during the twister you’d narrowly escaped, but somehow, the truck was perfectly fine, and just needed a few repairs to render it driveable again.

Seeing that it had survived after all this time gave you hope that Rhett would make it back safely home again.

He was gone for three days. You learned of his well-being through Cecilia. He would always text her after a storm passed to assure her he was okay. He was so good about giving her peace of mind.

In his absence, you busied yourself with sorting through the overwhelming clutter in your great-aunt’s house. It provided a distraction from your worry.

Living in Silver Spring, you’d had no cause to worry about Rhett. He crossed your mind often, yes, but you had no idea he was still storm chasing, and therefore remained blissfully ignorant.

Now that you were back home, all those old memories had resurfaced, and you were forced to face the fact that you still cared deeply for Rhett. The thought of him dying out there made your stomach turn.

At least when you’d been chasing with him, you were together, and he would die by your side if something did happen. Being apart from him now, you had no idea if he was okay or not, aside from updates from his mother.

You were forced to come to terms with your feelings. Why did you feel so strongly about this? Yes, you cared about what happened to him, just as anyone else in his life did. But there was something more.

You realized that perhaps you were still in love with him.

However, you buried that realization deep. You couldn’t rekindle your romance with him. You had moved on, made a life for yourself, had a career you loved. You needed to leave your relationship with him in the past, and move forward with only a friendship between the two of you.

Easy as pie, right?

You hoped so.

Three days later, just as you were arriving back on the Abbott farm after a long day of cleaning and organizing, Rhett returned.

Relief washed over you from head to toe when you saw that old Sierra coming down the driveway. But he wasn’t alone. You could make out the silhouette of a woman sitting in the passenger seat. Behind the truck, a Ford F150 followed closely behind, and beyond that, an old RV.

So this was the team he’d been talking about.

Your gut fluttered at the sudden anxiety of meeting new people. You knew you looked worse for wear in your cleaning clothes. You’d been sweating all day, and you were planning on heading straight for the shower when you got into the house.

But it would be rude to just turn and go inside, so you stayed put, waiting until all the vehicles came to a stop.

Rhett jumped out first, slamming the truck door shut behind him. He was wearing his hat, and he was grinning. “Made it back in one piece,” he assured you.

You couldn’t help but smile in return. “I can see that,” came your answer.

Your eyes flickered beyond him as the woman in the passenger seat climbed out. She was beautiful, in the most natural of ways. No makeup adorned her face. Her eyes were large, the deepest shade of brown you’d ever seen. Her hair, a deep chestnut color, was curly and unkempt, pulled back into a ponytail.

Her deep brown skin glimmered with perspiration. You could hazard a guess that the air conditioning in Rhett’s truck was broken. It always had been finicky.

“Hi,” she spoke, reaching out her hand to shake yours, “I’m Zara Marshall. Nice to finally meet you! Rhett told me all about you.” Then she added, “good things, of course!”

“Nice to meet you, too. I didn’t realize you all were coming. I would’ve at least tried to look presentable.”

“Oh, you look beautiful, don’t even worry about that.” She blew a stray curl out of her face.

“Zara here is the genius behind all our chases,” Rhett boasted.

The woman looked at him and beamed, shaking her head. “Oh, hush. I’m no genius.”

An odd feeling blossomed to life in your chest as you watched their banter. The easy way they interacted. It wasn’t jealousy, was it? It couldn’t be. You had no right to be jealous. Not after you were the one that left him six years ago.

Your moment of distaste was interrupted by the sound of car doors opening and closing. The rest of the team was getting out of their vehicles, clearly eager to stretch their legs after driving for so long.

“You have to meet my wife!” Zara exclaimed.

Oh.

How silly of you to entertain the thought of jealousy when the woman wasn’t even interested in Rhett.

Another woman came rushing over to the three of you, tall and lean, shoulder-length brown hair hanging loosely against the middle of her back, Tattoos decorated different parts of her body. Mostly her hands and wrists, and a few on her neck. When she smiled at you, it was warm like sunlight.

“Hi!” She said, “I’m Jeslyn.”

You shook her hand and told her your name. Then you were quickly introduced to everyone else.

There was Finn, handsome as could be, with bright green eyes and auburn hair. And then there was Danny, with eyes that were just a little less blue than Rhett’s, and graying curls that fell against his forehead. He couldn’t have been older than his early thirties, but he was already going gray. It suited him.

They were all so personable, and their welcome was warm. It made you feel at ease instantly. You should have known the people who chose to associate with Rhett were good people.

You learned that they were all staying for dinner, per Cecilia’s insistence. It was a flurry of organized chaos as everyone offered to help set up the tables outside, rather than crowding in the small kitchen to eat.

While they were busy with that, you slipped away to take a quick shower, eager to wash the sweat and grime off of your body.

You turned the water as hot as you could stand, stepping under the spray and closing your eyes. You hadn’t expected to be so exhausted. Your shoulders and arms ached from scrubbing and heavy lifting. Your legs were sore too.

The steamy water helped loosen your tight muscles considerably, and once you were finished, you breathed out a sigh of satisfaction. Now you felt a little more prepared to face a dinner table full of people.

But when you stepped out of the shower, you realized that you had forgotten something very important. A towel. Swearing under your breath, you stood in the middle of the bathroom for a moment, debating what you should do.

The linen closet was right across the hall. If you could sneak out there unseen, you’d be able to grab a towel and slip right back into the bathroom unnoticed. So, you cautiously opened the bathroom door and made sure the coast was clear before you dashed for the closet, yanking the door open and scanning for a towel.

To your horror, the sound of footsteps approaching could be heard, and you gasped, reaching for your towel, but you weren’t fast enough. A split second later, Rhett appeared at the top of the steps.

He froze, eyes widening, as you let out a squeak of surprise. Out of respect for you, he quickly turned away. “Shit, sorry!” He apologized.

Wordlessly, you clutched your towel and scurried away, slamming the bathroom door shut. On the steps, Rhett let out a breath, and he couldn’t help but shake his head. He hadn’t seen you naked in years. Of course the first time would end up being an awkward moment like the one you’d both just been subjected to.

He hadn’t seen much, in his haste to give you privacy. But he’d seen enough to make his brain short-circuit for a moment. Mentally, he scolded himself, but he knew, now that he’d seen you in that way, he wouldn’t be able to get it out of his head. Especially because there had been a time when he knew your body, inside and out. He’d had you in the most intimate of ways. And that was something he would never forget.

“Get it the fuck t’gether,” he grumbled to himself as he turned back around, heading toward his room, where he wanted to grab a clean shirt before you came back. He simply couldn’t entertain thoughts about you naked. It would do him no good.

He shook the encounter off, and quickly changed his shirt, tossing the old one in the hamper. He stopped to glance in the mirror that hung above his dresser, running his hand haphazardly through his hair, which was slightly tousled from all the activity of the day.

Then, quick as he came, he strolled out of his room and back down the steps before you ever stepped out of the bathroom again.

Meanwhile, you were hurriedly going about your post-shower routine, your mind spinning. You knew you were making this into a bigger deal than it needed to be. Perhaps you should be grateful it was only Rhett, who’d seen you naked many times before, rather than his parents or Amy.

But you still had an odd feeling swirling to life in your gut, a feeling that you didn’t want to face, because if you did, that would mean admitting you’d never gotten over Rhett.

You pushed it down again. Choosing to deny, deny, deny. It would simply go away if you didn’t acknowledge it.

With that, you headed out of the bathroom and back into Rhett’s bedroom, where you set your shower items down and made sure to hang your towel on the hook mounted on the back of the door.

Then, with a deep breath for courage, you made your way downstairs.

There was a flurry of activity happening. Cecilia was prepping Sunday dinner, while Zara and Jeslyn were gathering plates and silverware to set the table outside. Danny, Finn, and Rhett were carrying chairs outside.

Royal and Amy were in the living room, where she was very intently watching him whittle a figurine out of wood. Cecilia had likely shooed them out of the kitchen because there were enough people in the way as it was.

For a moment, you stood there, in the middle of the house, taking in the sights and sounds, and it transported you back to the past. Sunday dinners with the Abbotts were always your favorite. Lydia and her family would join, and everyone would eat outside, weather permitting, just like they were going to do today.

Many a good time was had around the large oak table that Rhett had built with his own hands when he was in high school, in woodworking class. One of the of the few classes he thrived in. The craftsmanship was beautiful, and it was still in good condition to this day.

“Hey, y’alright?” Rhett’s low cadence filled your ears. You looked up to find him standing near, gaze soft.

“I…yeah, I’m fine,” you assured him, “just reminiscing.”

He nodded. “Mm. Sure this brings back a lotta memories for you.”

“It does,” you agreed.

He lingered for a moment. Then, with the lowering of his voice, he said, “I, uh, I’m sorry about earlier. Didn’t mean to walk in on ya like that.”

You cleared your throat, shaking your head. “No, don’t worry about it. It’s no big deal.”

“Good. That’s good.” He let his hands rest upon his hips, grimacing at the awkward silence that followed.

“Guess I’d better see if your mom needs help,” you finally volunteered.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah. I’m gon’ make sure the guys set up the table right.” He took a few steps backward before he turned and sauntered out the door.

You breathed out a sigh, mentally berating yourself for the awkwardness. You hoped it wouldn’t linger for the rest of the day.

Thankfully, it did not. Once dinner was ready and everyone was gathered around the table, the atmosphere melted into one of warmth and laughter. You didn’t feel like an outsider. The group of friends treated you like one of your own, and it did wonders to put you at ease.

“I thought you’d like t’ hear this,” Rhett’s voice caught your attention from across the table. “Zara here’s workin’ on a way to stop twisters dead in their tracks.”

That definitely piqued your interest. You looked at her, where she sat between Rhett and Jeslyn. “Really? How do you plan to stop them?” You asked her, leaning forward in your seat.

Tornadoes were impossible to stop. To your knowledge, no one had succeeded in doing so before. They were so unpredictable, one couldn’t possibly figure out when and where one was going to touch down fast enough to stop it.

She sprang into her explanation. “I know what you’re thinking. It’s never been done before. But Jes and I have spent years coming up with a solution. There’s a lot of heat and moisture at the center of a twister. My theory is if you can cool down the center to the freezing point, you can stop the twister.”

You stared at her, eyes widening. There was no way it could work. Was there? “How would you cool it down?”

“Essentially, we release liquid nitrogen into the core of the tornado and it brings the temp way down.”

“Have you tested it out yet?” You inquired. You were still skeptical, but fascinated at the same time.

Beside her, Jeslyn piped up. “We started small scale tests when we were still students at OU. Me, Zara, and some classmates built this machine that uses heat and moisture to simulate a tornado. Our nitrogen tests worked on it, but seeing as that was only a small, contained event…”

“You’d need a lot more nitrogen for the real thing,” you finished for her.

“Yep.”

Zara continued where Jeslyn left off. “During the run we did this week, we decided to actually test it out and see if we could stop a twister. But…it failed miserably.” She laughed ruefully, and the rest of the team joined her, reliving the memory.

You were struck with an odd feeling. Fear of missing out, maybe. Which shocked you, because you’d refused to go on the chase in the first place, because you couldn’t face your fears. Now you felt left out? It didn’t quite make sense to you.

Maybe you did miss storm chasing, after all.

“It’s hard to gauge how much nitrogen we need, especially because every tornado is different. We’ve been working on collecting as many tanks of nitrogen as we possibly can, but we also didn’t want to use up our whole reserve. We used half of it on what turned out to be an F3. Didn’t do shit,” Zara continued to explain, motioning animatedly with her hands as she spoke. Her face was incredibly expressive.

You decided you really liked her. You could understand why Rhett enjoyed chasing with her.

“So, how does that work? Like, do you set tanks of nitrogen on the ground and then open them and hope for the best, or?” You had so many questions, and you simply couldn’t hide your fascination.

“We use that,” Rhett said, pointing over at his truck parked in the driveway. Hitched to the back was an open trailer, with several tanks of liquid nitrogen situated inside, metal gleaming in the light of the setting sun.

“But how do you open them? Does someone have to open each one before the twister hits?” You suddenly became very aware of everyone’s eyes on you, and you shrank slightly. “Sorry, I know I’m asking a lot of questions.”

“No, you’re good!” Zara insisted, “it’s just, we’re all used to people telling us we’re crazy instead of actually showing interest.”

“I told ya she’d think it was cool,” Rhett said to her with a smile. He caught your eye. He still knew you well, even though time had driven you apart.

“Basically, opening the tanks is up to us,” Finn piped up from beside you, motioning to Danny, who sat on the other side of him. He took a swig of his water before he continued. “We made these special remote control valves. As long as we’re within range, we can open the valves with the touch of a button and release the nitrogen into the air.”

“Honestly, it sounds crazy. But also brilliant,” you said, completely in awe. “You gotta show me all the equipment after dinner. I’ve never heard of anyone doing this kinda thing before.”

Part of you still doubted what they were trying to do would ever work. It went against all odds. Even if they did succeed in stopping a tornado, the method wasn’t necessarily feasible for stopping others in the future. It would require countless tanks of nitrogen and a lot of manpower.

But just to be able to say one had stopped a tornado was a feat in and of itself. You couldn’t hold it against Zara for trying. It was clear she was passionate about her work and believed there was a possibility that it could be successful.

The conversation around the dinner table soon shifted to other things. You noticed that none of them asked you about your storm chasing past. You wondered how much Rhett had told them, and if he’d instructed them not to ask about the details, at risk of upsetting you.

It was very considerate of him, if he had.

After dinner, everyone helped clean up while Cecilia ushered Amy upstairs, against the girl’s protests. “You’ve got school in the mornin’, early bedtime isn’t optional!” Her grandmother insisted.

But Amy had to make sure she said goodnight to everyone first before she made the reluctant trudge up the stairs. Oh, to have the innocence of a child again, unwilling to go to bed because all the adults were still awake.

The evening carried on, and once the dishes were washed and the table was cleared, you were led outside to see all the equipment Zara had told you about. And what a setup it was.

The trailer attached to the back of Rhett’s truck was full of nitrogen tanks, sealed with remote controlled valves. The trailer itself was also remote controlled, according to Rhett.

“Come see,” he motioned for you to follow as he opened the driver’s side door. He pointed at the center console, where there was a board of switches, framed by labels indicating what each switch was for. “Danny and Finn helped get this up an’ running. If we need t’ let the trailer go, all I gotta do is press a button and it’ll release. S’how we get the tanks in the path of the twister.”

You stared in amazement at the device. “How? Like, how do you figure out when to release the trailer? And how does it not just get blown away?”

A grin tugged at his mouth. “Figured that one out too.”

He led you to the side of the trailer, where he pointed at a compartment positioned directly between the wheels. “Soon as I get the trailer in place, I flip a switch and stakes lower outta this compartment here and into the ground. Usually we’re cuttin’ it close, but I can get the truck positioned in the path of the twister. Then I get the trailer settled and get the hell outta Dodge.”

“Then I hit the remote control for the tanks and release the nitrogen into the air,” Finn piped up eagerly.

“Meanwhile, Zara and I are tracking the storm pattern and trying to figure out exactly when to release the trailer,” came Jeslyn’s explanation.

You stared at all the equipment in total wonder. These people had thought of everything. More than you or Rhett ever had when you were chasing. Your operation then had been very bare bones, and really, you were just following storms for the fun of it.

But this? This was an entire science experiment, and it was fascinating. Despite your refusal to chase again, you were very curious about what all of this would look like in action. If Zara ever succeeded in stopping a twister, she would make history.

That was something you almost wanted to be a part of. Almost.

Later that night, you found yourself curled up in an Adirondack chair, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders as everyone sat around the fire that Rhett had built in the old fire pit. The place held so many memories. Namely, the night Rhett had asked you to be his girlfriend. It was right here.

He remembered that night, too. You could tell he was thinking about it when he caught your eye from across the fire.

Around you, the group settled into comfortable conversation. The kind that happened when old friends got together. Anything and everything was discussed as the night gave way to inky darkness, the stars twinkling above, like glitter spilled across a black velvet canvas.

Before she’d retired for the night, Cecilia had warmed some apple cider on the stove, and a mug of it was currently situated in your hands, its taste spicy and comforting. You enjoyed listening to Rhett’s friends tell stories of different storms they’d chased, reliving all the exciting times they’d had together.

You wondered if you would be running with them, too, had you stayed here instead of moving to Silver Springs and taking your weather analyst job. Would it just be you and Rhett, or would fate have still decided to bring these people into your life?

Their passion was admirable. Zara was a very driven individual, hellbent on making a difference. “If I could at least slow down a twister, even if it doesn’t fully stop it, think of all the lives we could save. That’s why I do all of this. I wanna protect people.”

That was just it, wasn’t it? Saving lives. You thought back to the fateful day you had lost Perry, Rebecca, and Lydia. If you’d had a way of slowing down that twister, or even stopping it altogether, perhaps they would still be here.

But you couldn’t think that way, because it was already done. There was no way to go back in time and save them.

The thought made your chest ache, and you had to swallow the wave of grief that rose in your throat. Rhett caught your eye over the flames, and shot you a reassuring look, almost as if he knew what you were thinking.

To your relief, the subject soon changed from storm chasing, and moved on to lighter things.

“Hey, rodeo’s on Saturday. We were all thinking of going together. You should totally join us!” Jeslyn suggested, nodding in your direction.

“Yeah, you should!” Finn agreed.

That piqued your interest. “Sure, I’ll still be in town, so why not?” You hadn’t been to a rodeo in so long. Not since Rhett’s last ride, which had ended in disaster.

Jeslyn grinned over her mug of cider. “Great! We’re gonna have so much fun. We’ll take care of your ticket, so you don’t have to worry about it.”

You raised a brow in surprise. “Really? You don’t have to do that.”

Everyone protested at once, insisting that they wanted the rodeo ticket to be their treat. You were touched at their generosity, and accepted the offer gratefully. Might as well make the most of your time in Wabang.

Soon, it was time for the group to disperse and head in their own respective ways. Rhett threw some sand over the dying embers, while everyone else folded up their chairs to store back in the barn. As you walked the group back to their cars, Zara turned to you, her face kind.

“I know you’ve got your reasons for choosing not to chase, I want you to know the invitation for you to join us is open, in case you ever change your mind,” she told you.

You weren’t entirely sure what came over you then. Maybe it was your desire to make a difference. Maybe you were just foolish. But for whatever reason, you were emboldened enough to say, “y’know what? I’ve got a proposition.” You stole a glance at Rhett to make sure he was listening. “I’ll go on a chase with you guys if Rhett agrees to ride at next weekend’s rodeo.”

You knew Rhett. He had a competitive nature. He was going to say yes. Everyone’s eyes landed on him, awaiting his answer.

“Shoo-ee, you gonna accept that challenge, Rhett?” Danny asked with a grin, fully invested.

Beside you, Rhett grimaced. “Ain’t no way they’ll let me in the ring,” he protested.

“Does Beau still oversee the bull riding contestants?” You inquired.

You and Rhett both knew that Beau would agree to letting him ride, because only Beau Wilson was crazy enough to allow such a thing.

“Yeah,” Rhett answered your question. He was well aware of the direction this was going.

“Then I’ll go talk to him. He’ll get you a spot in the ring. If you can handle it, that is.” You gave him a pointed look.

“I can handle it, darlin’.” Despite the determination in his tone, the nickname settled over you like a warm embrace. He hadn’t called you that in so long. “So if I do this, you swear you’ll go on a run with us?”

“Pinky swear.” You held your hand out, pinky up.

Rhett eyed your hand for a moment before he linked his pinky finger with yours. “Fine. You got yourself a deal.”

Finn and Danny whooped in excitement, while Zara and Jeslyn looked between you and Rhett, bewildered. “Who would’ve thought you’d be the one to get him back on a bull? We always say he should try riding again, but he always says no,” Zara explained.

You looked at Rhett, and he ducked his head, hand lifting to scratch the back of his neck. You swore you saw his ears turn red. “Guess he just needed some friendly competition,” you replied.

Not long after, goodbyes were said, and the group parted ways, climbing into their vehicles and driving off, leaving you and Rhett standing there in the driveway. Immediately, you realized that your proposition was a bit preposterous.

“Oh my god, if you don’t want to ride, you don’t have to. I don’t know why I said that, I just…”

But he waved his hand, shaking his head. “Nah, I’ll do it. It’ll do me some good to get back on a bull. Just like it’ll do you some good to face another twister. Might help us both process some shit,” he reasoned.

You let out a breath. “Maybe so.”

You both turned to walk toward the house, and he asked you a question as you went. “What made you change your mind?”

You paused, glancing down at your feet before you looked at him. “I dunno, all of Zara’s talk about saving lives…it got me thinking. It would be so cool if it could work. Imagine all the people she could save! She’s making a difference, and I want to be a part of that.” And then, “maybe if…if we had something like that six years ago, Perry, Rebecca, and Lydia would still be alive.”

Rhett’s boots crunched against dirt as he absently kicked a few pebbles out of the way. “Don’t go spiralin’ into the ‘what ifs’. Universe saw fit to take ‘em, so it did. No machine could’ve stopped it. Not that kinda twister.”

You studied his expression. “Do you believe in Zara’s project?”

He shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I do, but there ain’t no way it would stop an EF5 tornado. We’d be fucked if it hit us.”

“It’s still worth a try, though, isn’t it? If it works, and if she can get it going on a larger scale…she could save entire towns from being destroyed! Think of the history she’s going to make!”

Rhett’s mouth curled into a slight smile. “There she is.”

“What?”

“My storm chasin’ gal. You’re back.”

You shrugged. “I guess so. But just know this isn’t a permanent thing, ‘kay? I’m only going out there with you guys to see how Zara’s invention works. After that, I’m going back to Silver Springs. To my job, where I don’t have to live off of McDonald’s and Whataburger every day and stay in shitty motels while I wait for a twister to just fall out of the sky.”

He bit back his ever-widening grin, shaking his head. “Sure thing. I’m just glad you decided to face your fear, s’all.”

Facing your fear. That was what this was, wasn’t it? You knew that if you could do this, it would show you that you were capable of moving past your grief that still felt crippling at times. But you couldn’t help but wonder; when staring into the face of a tornado, would you be able to stand your ground, or would you let your fear send you running like a frightened child?

You would soon find out. But you didn’t realize just how soon.

*read the next part here

taglist: tagging those who expressed interest or asked to be tagged (lmk if you wanna be added or removed)

@withahappyrefrain @rhettabbotts @ryebecca @peachystenbrough @attapullman

@sebsxphia @delopsia @damrlova @fragilefearnie @floydsmuse

@fairyheart @hangmanapologist @lovinglyeternal @likearolloftape @bobfloydsbabe

@nobody7102 @mearslot @torturedpoetspsychward @floydsglasses @hearteyesforlewis

@shamelessghostwagonwobbler @cloudofbutterflies92 @keep-on-burnin @ravenmoore14 @queenbbarnes

@phoenixhalliwell @lyn-js @sunsetsimpsblog @ixxvixcviii @shinycupcakebaker

@frequentnosebleeder @atoncments @eolsens @casuallyclassless @desert-fern

@perfectprettypisces @parcetamoldaisy @zirrocom @rhettsgirll @just-in-case-iloveyou

@ada--44 @sydney-malcontent @9ullmans @bradshawsbitch

@callsignmedusa @antiquitea @ohmyeyesmyeyes @spidervman @oddlymighty-witch @dreams-in-anthracis

#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott imagine #we own the sky

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jellitchi · 9 months ago

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vat7k designs in my head...

i thought their canon designs were a eensy weensy bit Unpolished so i made these mostly for myself. erm if u rly want it i think varian is 19 here, hugo 19, nuru 18, yong 12.

i also made rhem all playlists and had to draw them a cover so thats what the last img is I linked each of em under my notes for all of em... Under the cut is Like a Huge Infodump of notes i have for each chara,,,,,,

i kept varians design basically the same, i dislike the design w the orange neck thing so i just Nuked it😭... Here's Varians playlist

Hugos design i just wanted to put him in something more Loose. hes a thief, a professional escape artist. i dont think wearing clunky metal is ideal for him. i also gave him a prosthetic arm (blond w no arm design trope!) but u cant see it in the ref so i added another drawing of him in his under layering👍 i vaguely referenced russian(?) clothes for him as well... Yeah not too much changed w him i just tried to make him slippery-er. Here's Hugo's playlist

yong came relatively easy to me, if it wasn't obvious i did rip gaming from g*nshin's hoodie. i thought the lion hood was Adorable and freaking perfect for what i had in mind for hos character. since the og notes said the fire kingdom is loosely Chinese inspired i basically just kept that. i mashed tgt a buncha diff dynasties though sorry for how inconsistent i was... i think he looks Okay. anyways i changed yongs role a bit, ill explain why im adjusting some of their roles later but i kept yong as the Jinx Type character. hes the eldest in his family and has a buncha younger siblings, hes a lion dancer and does performances w his family/siblings. he rly like special effects n keeps tryna incorporate his fireworks into their performances (it flops and he has to sew up the dmg) ill explain more of yongs role in another post maybe shrugs... Here's Yong's Playlist

miss nuru was a bit of a struggle for me i might share my full design process with her coz i did a Bunch of mockups for her😭😭😭... i didnt have a specific country of reference for her but i chose to make her vaguely south asian inspired. i also really wanted to keep the sheer fabric w the star / constellation map. i love that idea its so cute so shes still technically the navigator. but she also wields a sword too, fencing or whatever. (her and varian r Huge Cass fangirls which is probably why she started tryna use a sword (snuck out to watch cass compete) Okay ill talk abt this later) in my head, okay ill Probably make a whole nother post talking abt how im interpreting/writing each chara, but in my head i think nuru is the youngest and her kingdom's archivist. shes mostly in charge of like Her kingdoms history / artifacts / etc. ok im getting too side tracked ill save the lore dump for later but thats Nurus role in the party. Here's Nuru's Playlist

uhm below i made their character stats mostly to help me with planning / role developing. the yellow is their base stats the color behind is their end stats i guess. i was gonna explain my reasoning for their stats but ermm this post is kinda Really long so sorry😭... varian max int for obvious reasons, also max charisma just coz i feel like u kinda learn a thing or two being around a couple manipulators and spending time in jail idk shrugs... (also lets not forget the "ud b surprised what ppl would do for a cookie!") Hugo slippery guy, if a brick is thrown at him as hes running hes gonna try n run faster to shatter it, his mindset is Run Run Run! i think hes relatively agile too but yeah mostly a Speedster. i think he n varian got no Physical strength varian maybe just like A little coz Farm boy but I rly doubt quirin is making him do a Lotta heavy lifting. yong has incredible stamina and agility because hed a performer. nuru is the strongest coz this team would literally Flop without a proper Offense😭... i think varian n hugo r able to outwit plenty of their opponents but i think nuru is pretty good in a fight, same w yong. Yeah Okay Sorry for a Long Long Post thanks hope u guys enjoy

#vat7k #varian and the seven kingdoms #varian vat7k #hugo vat7k #nuru vat7k #yong vat7k #varian tangled #fanart #lizzysart

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allyallyorange · 10 months ago

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Master Post for Ateez Adventure Time AU

Ok let's get into it! I'll be adding to this post whenever I post anything new for the AU! I'm going to try to organize everything so that it's in chronological order of the story! There are a few arcs I've got planned too so I'll try to make everything as clear as possible haha

(also I do my best but sometimes I confuse myself with exact ages of the characters and exactly like. what time of year things would take place, but think of it like any CN show we grew up with - time is seemingly an illusion if I don't think about it too much...)

Also!! Thank you so much to everyone who has said they enjoy my au!! you help me stay motivated! I'm having so much fun drawing this stuff ♡

Lineup for ref:

Good to know points about the AU:

Universe A = main universe

**this au is inspired by Adventure Time. I'm not using main characters from AT, just using the general vibe of the show and some plot points and character points (ex: Vampires drink the colour red)

Universe Z = no magic universe

Ages at the beginning of the story (approximately):

Seonghwa - 1000 (physically 25)

Hongjoong - 2500 (physically 25)

Yunho - 24

Yeosang - 850/900 (physically 24)

San - a little over 100 (physically 23)

Mingi - a little more than 600 (physically 23)

Wooyoung - 23

Jongho - 22

**characters who are "immortal" age about 1 year over the course of 100 years (SH, HJ, YS). San and Mingi are not immortal but didn't age due to other circumstances (in hell time works differently, and MG was frozen for 600 years)

List of Spotify playlists if you're interested!

Misc doodles dumps that include things from pre/post/main story and idk where to put

Character lineup plus other doodles

Hongjoong and Mingi (they're bros)

Character lineup for final battle

Pre-Story (Universe A)

Seonghwa Logs

Pieces of the past

The star and his flower

Slipping through my fingers…

Hongjoong and Seonghwa meet

Big Brother and Little Brother

First Demon Prince Show

Glasses required

Sleepy brothers

Wooyoung summons a friend

Helpful Human

Yunho and San

Sleepy Heroes

No Ice Demons in the Workshop

Seonghwa + Yeosang, Hongjoong + Mingi profiles

Jongho + Yunho, San + Wooyoung profiles

Pre-Story (Universe Z)

2ho and Mingi playing video games

After School

Spider-Man 3

Cold Hands

Walkie Talkies and ice cream

Post Joyride with Jongho and Mingi

Wish You Loved Me

Hyung’s Glasses

Cousins

Motorcycle

Yunho The Human

2ho Universe Z to A

Main Story

Living in the forest

The Same

Jongho and Mingi doodle

Afraid of nothing, Afraid of everything

Yeosang meets team Woosanho

The story of The Beast (as told by Wooyoung)

Hongjoong meets Jongho

Team Hongjoong arguing as always

Almost tolerable

Don't kidnap people unless you're ready for friendship??

First meeting: Fire and Ice

First meeting: Yeo meets team Joong

Strawberry boys

Sharing mom

Upgrade!

Cold hugs

San and Mingi hug

Hero boys!

Hongjoong isn't scary. MG and YH becoming friends again?

Ouch! Hot

Wooyoung and San's room

Sleeping on the shed (Hongjoong and Seonghwa)

Seongjoong awkwardness

Yunho's photos

He wants to join...

Vintage shirt

Window visit

The Boy and The Beast

Jongho after the accident

Cool scars (Jongho)

Summer Boys!

Beach episode

Chill day

Big bro Little bro

Hey, Joong!

Post-Story (Yeosang arc)

Dimension hopping with friends (lineup)

Somewhere in another dimension...

Universe V

Evil Yeo doodle

Sorry Princess

Heart to Heart

Out of Time

Post-Story (Mingi arc)

The End of The Beast

Hugs

#ateez #ateez at au #masterpost

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berberriescorner · 10 months ago

Text

“Are You Listening?”

Interlude: “Drinks On Me, Yeah?”

Characters: Rio x Black!Reader.

Summary: Issa Interlude, mama. Expect the unexpected.

Warnings: Profanity, angst, fluff, and drinking-little libation for the one, two.

Word Count: 1,700+.

A/N: My lovelies! My babies! Mama’s back and I got a little sum-sum for ya! Let’s start this weekend with a little Rio and the crew, yeah? Yeah. I want to give so many thanks to all of you sweet lovelies who have been rocking with me this entire time. Most of you know that the past year and a half has been quite the struggle. To everybody who took time out of your day to come and check in on me, please know that I’m appreciative and forever grateful to have connected with such amazing people🥹♥️. Thank you for all the sweet, hilarious comments and asks as well💓. I’m a little rusty, so be gentle with your girl. Enjoy my sweet babies. Before anyone asks, yes, I’ve been working on Pt. 4😂😏😈.

"Are You Listening?" - The Playlist

Apple Music.

Spotify.

Part One Here.

Part Two Here.

Part Three Here.

Inspired By:

Your body pressed down into the plush mattress as you reveled in the comfort and security of being home. Your mind replayed the image of your mom snatching the door open, the two of you hugging tightly, rocking side to side. You had spent the past week trying to survive final exams and warding off the many questions of, “What’s wrong, baby girl?” The woman who gave you life knew you all too well. Sensing that her youngest baby was struggling, her attempts to get you to open up over the phone went unanswered. With the semester complete, being home didn’t leave much space to dodge the knowing gaze in her eyes.

That master’s degree will probably be a waste of time.

The moment you pulled away from the hug, she cupped your chin, and your poker face cracked as the tears cascaded down your cheeks. Two hours later, you filled her in on everything from the stress of school, financial aid, working doubles, and the fresh crack in your heart that was taking its sweet-ass time to heal. All of which had only taken about forty minutes to stutter out. The talk and her comfort had left you wiped out, and just like any amazing mother would do, she sent you to your room for a nap and got to work on preparing comfort food.

You considered dozing off for a bit more rest, but your bedroom door flew open, bouncing off the corner of your vanity. Your eyes narrowed to mere slits as you started to curse your oldest brother out. His hand raising halted the verbal reprimand.

“Alena’s big-headed ass is here to see ya mean ass,” he snarked about the woman who would eventually become his wife.

These two bitches are so in love. It’s sickening. The attraction is so annoyingly obvious. Shit makes me sick to my stomach.

Before you could tell him you didn’t want company, she was already in the doorframe. “Uh-uh, bitch you are not about to dodge me for another two weeks.” With those words said, you had no choice but to give her a rundown of what had transpired. Not only had she forced you to divulge every last detail while the two of you hugged and cried together. She also took it upon herself to wiggle you into your best freakum dress and head out for a girl’s night.

Being the baby and the only girl in your family made for very over-the-top protective parents. The moment your father saw your attire, he wouldn’t let up. He was hell-bent on forcing your brothers to chaperone.

It wasn’t a horrible idea. Only you didn’t like your independence challenged. Luckily, the older siblings were pretty chill, so long as no one was overly aggressive. They had taught you how to handle shit for yourself at a young age. You spent the first half hour in the club pouting and ready to go home to wallow in self-misery.

“Hoe! If you don’t fix your face, scaring off every good-looking man in this club!”

“They’ll be alright, so long as they keep their distance. In case you didn’t get the memo after our long talk. Men make my ass itch,” you growled, kissing your teeth.

“Whateva, you and that stank attitude can have a good time together,” she sassed, throwing up a hand and walking away from the bar.”

“Where are you going? Alena!”

“I’ll be back, damn! Let me go on and annoy them, fine-ass brothers of yours. Be nice, and don’t bite nobody head off, sourpuss.”

“Always thirsting after my blood, just triflin’.”

With the flick of a middle finger, she sauntered over to their section. You could see the irritation rolling off them as she seated herself in the middle. The arguing started seconds later. Your eye twitched at the sight. Swinging the barstool back toward the liquor, you were about to pass the time scrolling through social media. Instead, a set of bronzed-colored, muscular digits came into view. They gently pressed your phone to the bar as the matching digits slid another lemon drop into view. Your eyes danced along those muscular fingers, trailing upward until they landed on one of the sexiest faces you’d ever witnessed. If any other man would’ve done this, he would’ve been set straight expeditiously. In this instance, ole boy was just too damn fine, and it left you on mute. The corners of his mouth lifted into a handsome smirk.

The stranger turned his barstool to get closer. One hand rested on the bar while the other cradled the back of your seat. His eyes roamed over your body, lip tucking between his teeth, matching you stare for stare. He chuckled when he noticed your quirked eyebrow.

“I don’t mean to intrude on ya evening, but I figured you could use another drink.”

“Is that so?”

“Couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with your friend. I’m tryin’ to figure out why these men got your fine ass itching out here.”

Shit, he heard that? Floor, open up and swallow me. That’s so damn embarrassing.

As if reading your thoughts, he continued, “Nothing to be embarrassed about, mama. There’s a lot of boys running around here pretending to be men. Who was crazy enough to fumble you? He gotta be the dumbest man on earth.”

As if on cue, said fumbler’s name popped up on your caller ID. With a swipe of a finger, the phone went silent. You turned back to your new admirer. He had signaled for another round of drinks.

“Either you’re a big spender, or the bartender is your connect,” you teased.

“Connect is one way of putting it. This my spot, darlin’.”

He chuckled as you damn near choked on your drink.

“I’m sorry. Tend to put my foot in my mouth.”

“You good. I like a woman who’s not afraid to speak her mind. Dealing with me, you go to say it with your chest.”

“Oh, so you plan to be around me beyond tonight?”

“Around, underneath, on top. We locked in, mama,” he insisted, licking his lips.

“I don’t even know your name, fool,” you cackled at his cockiness.

“Name’s Rio, but you can call me Christopher, mama. My future wife needs to know my government name. I’m putting my trust in you. Don’t be tellin’ my business, sweetheart.”

“Who says I’m checking for you, Rio?”

“You accepted my company and drinks. Deep down, you’re intrigued by me. Ain’t no need to hide it. When I see something I want, gotta go after it, mama.” he rasped, voice lowering to a panty-dropping level.

“You’re trouble. I just know it.”

Rio planted both hands on your thighs. The gasp that escaped you lit his brown orbs with passion.

“Can I have your undivided attention for the night? Want to get to know you better, mama.”

Grabbing his outstretched hand, he helped you down off the stool.

“Rio…”

Piercing light flickered in the darkness, pulling you from the memory that played itself in your dreams. Your hand snatched the vibrating phone from the table. Your orbs squinted to read the screen, teeth clenching in frustration.

Fucking Rio, I can’t even get away from him in my sleep. Stupid-handsome-asshole.

With a single tap, the phone rested on DND. You closed off from the world to find a peaceful slumber, only to wake from another dream. Throwing the covers back, you startled, feeling the bed dip. His cologne wafted through the air, and your eyes connected.

“Why all the tossing and turning, amor? Hmm,” he rasped, hand trailing up your arm. His warm palm cradled the side of your neck, rubbing away some of the tension.

“Sorry, did my restlessness wake you?”

“No, querida. I’ve been up taking care of some things.”

“Same old Miguel. Everything business. Still don’t sleep much, huh?”

His eyes crinkled with a small smile, but you could also see sadness. It’s the same unhappiness that’s always lingered, only now accompanied by sparks of anger and resentment. Your mind replayed his words in the elevator.

Where’s your wife, Miguel?

She had other plans tonight.

The slightest mention of her had nearly sent his mood spiraling. You weren’t privy to what was happening in his marriage but didn’t want to pry. He would only reverse card uno your ass. Miguel would insist that you vent about your own life and frustrations.

“Thank you for taking the couch,” you nibbled at your lip.

There was a hint of frustration and guilt lingering in your chest. Not being able to sleep without dreaming of Rio left you feeling conflicted. Part of you wanted to say to hell with loyalty. Being in such a vulnerable state had you craving to be held and cuddled, but regardless of circumstance, the two of you were very much married. Concern swam in the pools of his eyes. Miguel sensed the ongoing dilemma in your head, and his fingers gently cupped your chin.

“Hey, talk to me. What’s all this,” he asked, tugging the lip between your teeth. “Tell me what you need.”

“I can’t,” you sighed.

“You can, and you will. Look at me,” he insisted as your eyes locked.

“Anything you ask me. It won’t leave this room. You need me to hold you until sleep takes over, amor?”

Unable to verbally say it, you gave him a slight head nod. Removing his tie, watch, and shoes, he made it over to the opposite side of the bed. Miguel got right to it, not giving you time to overthink it. He pulled you into his chest, arms engulfing you in a tight hug.

“Were you having nightmares, cariño?”

“No, just happy memories reminding me of the present painful ones,” you replied, voice filling with unshed tears.

“You want to talk about it?”

Silence filled the room as Miguel continued, “We don’t have to ta-.”

His sentence cut short as he felt the tremors and your head burrowed into his side. Miguel’s heart cracked at the sound of the sobs falling from your lips. His arms pulled you further into him until there was no space left, and the palm of his hand rubbed at your head.

“Shhh, you’re okay. I’m here,” he cooed, leaving soft kisses on the crown of your head.

Miguel continued to whisper calming words. You cried until your head pounded, and sleep took over.

Hope you all enjoyed that little peek into how Rio pulled up on your girl for the first time. He saw something he liked, and he had to have you🥰. We’ll just call this a vague moment of insight into upcoming events...if that makes sense 😆. If you enjoyed please be sure to hit the love button, comment, and reblog. Spread the love, my babies.

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bvidzsoo · 5 months ago

Text

Love Me Like A Rockstar (10)

ー☆ Chapter 10: Sugar

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: cursing, usage of the word bitch ー☆ Word count: 13.7k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Hello, my lovelies! I am so-so sorry for making you wait for so long for chapter 10, but I am finally DONE with university and have been heavily focusing on my works since, so hopefully I'll get to update this series a lot more often! ^^ This part is the longest so far, and I think you all deserve it after the long wait. I feel like it isn't the best I have written for this series so far, but I'll let you be the judge of it. I can't wait to hear your thoughts about chapter 10 and please leave feedback, you always make my day when you do so! <3 Listen to Sugar before or while reading this chapter, it's actually really important as it's the song they are performing hehet. The outfit Mingi wears is the one in the moodboard, with a little change to his hair color mhmm. I hope you enjoy this, and happy reading! ^^

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng @deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @tmtxtf @hwashiningstar @thatfavouritesong @ateez-atiny380 @xciiiomwliah @vixensss @catchingskzzzs @tesssaurrr @ginger-mingi

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

The doors of the cab slammed shut behind us, the voice of the driver wishing us a good time cut short as I grimaced, looking up at the sign of Outlaw. Well, here I was again, under much different circumstance than the first time. Now, I was here willingly, having agreed to come myself, unlike the last time, when I tagged along with Seulgi just because I felt bad for her having to come on her own to woo her crush—turned boyfriend now, thankfully. Seulgi’s heels clicked loudly against the pavement as she came to stand next to me, the cab finally driving off, and when I threw her a quick glance, I caught her smirking at me again. I groaned and crossed my arms in front of my chest, the leather jacket crippling under the action, making a quiet sound that was drowned out as a few guys exited the pub, laughing loudly about something.

“Stop giving me that look, Seulgi.” I groaned as she just chuckled, pursing her lips.

“I didn’t think you owned clothes like that,” Seulgi’s teasing was relentless, she’s been at my throat the second she stopped by my house so that we’d ride to Outlaw together, “Who was your inspiration for tonight? Letty from Fast and Furious?”

“I swear to God, Seulgi, shut up!” I exclaimed, pushing her shoulder playfully as she stuck her tongue out at me before she grabbed my arm to drag me towards the pub’s entrance, “You don’t hear me making fun of your outfit for looking like you’ve come straight out of Scooby-Doo or something!”

“Scooby-Doo?!” Seulgi exclaimed, throwing me an offended look, “You’re being foul now, Y/N, my mother bought this dress for me and I think the colors are lovely!”

“They are, I’m just playing with you because you deserve it.” I chuckled, opening the door for her as she shook her head at me, adjusting the hem of her short dress. Seulgi looked like a character straight out of the seventies with her orange and brown patterned dress, the sleeves loose at the end and the skirt a little ruffled as it reached just below her thighs. She matched some white high heeled boots with it that reached up to her knees, and her small shoulder bag was white as well to match her boots. She ruffled up her black hair even more, the curs tighter as she pulled half of it up in a ponytail, and I gave her some white winged-eyeliner, blushing up her cheeks and painting her lips a pretty coral color. She looked absolutely lovely and she was very excited to see Wooyoung, who apparently, wore similar colors. They have agreed to match their outfits for tonight, and as much as I hated admitting it, I thought it was rather adorable, and found myself pondering whether I’d do it too if I had a boyfriend.

As for myself, not wanting to feel like the last time I was here, out of place and as if everyone was ogling me, I wore something that I deemed rather fit for a rock show, something more from the twenties. My jeans were a dark grey color, low rise and flared out below the knees. I wore black boots with it that didn’t have too high of a heel as I knew my feet would hurt quite fast because of them. It took some time until I finally settled on the simple white tank top that I wore now, just about reaching my belly button as I wasn’t keen of showing too much skin. And the dark leather bomber jacket that I wore to keep me warm from the cold night is actually my mother’s, and I totally stole it from her closet without her noticing—hopefully. Accessories had always been an important part of my outfits; therefore I threw on a thick dark brown belt, which perhaps drew the attention onto my exposed lower belly, but I didn’t ponder enough on the thought in order to prevent feeling uncomfortable about it, and as my black nails were painted in a haste, they definitely didn’t look as neat as I would have preferred them to be. My fingers, per usual, weren’t left bare as I wore my favorite rings, only my left pinky and right ring-finger missing the jewelry. Not wanting to leave my neck bare either, I threw on a black choker that had a moonstone pendant, and two more silver necklaces that hung at different lengths around my neck, and some smaller silver hoop earrings that completed the look altogether. I left my hair alone mostly, gave it a few large curls as I didn’t like the way it looked straight with the outfit, and for once, I didn’t feel the need to do any strong makeup. Similar to Seulgi, I rosed up my cheeks a little bit and applied a dark red lip-gloss that would certainly come off the second my lips touch a glass to drink water. I would like to think I totally slayed this outfit, and ignore Seulgi’s incessant teasing that I was all dolled up because of someone. But she’s wrong—like she is almost always—because I did not have Mingi in mind when putting together this outfit, I merely didn’t want to look out of place again.

The air was rather warm inside the pub as Seulgi and I walked inside, then down a flight of stairs as today’s performance would be on the lower part, an after party following it. Different smells mixed in the air, mostly those sweet elf bars everyone seemed to be smoking, and the not so pleasant smell of cigarettes, the two smells mixing with the perfume and cologne of the people down there. I wondered when it became alright to smoke indoors, especially in a confined space underground, but before I could say anything about it to Seulgi, we were greeted by a familiar face. We have barely walked inside the room, Seulgi’s boyfriend was stood in front of us, grinning from ear to ear. I stepped aside as Seulgi released my hand and I watched as the two grinned at each other widely, going in for a tight hug as Wooyoung buried his head in Seulgi’s neck. And they certainly didn’t joke about matching their outfits tonight, Wooyoung wore brown jeans that were ripped at his knees, showing off a tattoo that I didn’t know he had, and his top was an orange mesh fabric with white streaks, leaving little to imagination, and I was taken aback upon seeing it. But Seulgi seemed to be enjoying it `as she fiddled with the fabric at his arms and even leaned down to whisper something in his ear, something I certainly didn’t want to hear as Wooyoung’s cheeks instantly tinged red. I snorted and stepped up to them, raising one eyebrow.

“If you’re done devouring each other, love birds, should we go sit down somewhere upstairs until you are next to perform?” I spoke up, Wooyoung’s eyes falling on me as he grinned widely, Seulgi sticking to his side as her arm went around his shoulders.

“Hi, Y/N!” Wooyoung greeted enthusiastically, blinking his eyes innocently at me, “I didn’t see you there.”

“Of course,” I snorted, smirking at him, “you were too busy checking my bestie out, which is cool since you’re her boyfriend, but I certainly would’ve broken your nose if you weren’t…”

“She’s only joking!” Seulgi exclaimed, a nervous laugh bubbling up her throat as she pressed her cheek against Wooyoung’s, “Well…mostly, she did punch a guy once because he was bothering us…”

I grinned, placing my hands deep in my jacket’s pocket, Wooyoung’s expression falling as he took me in, “Don’t worry, I was only joking, Wooyoung. With you…not with that other guy.”

“Yeah, cool.” Wooyoung laughed, but it sounded rather fake and I grinned satisfied, making Seulgi narrow her eyes at me. Wooyoung had to know I liked him as long as Seulgi did and as long as he treated her right. If he breaks her heart, I break his nose…simple as that, “Uh, if Mingi finally decides to stop fixing his hair in the bathroom and joins us, we could go upstairs, although I don’t know when it’s our turn to perform.”

Mingi, right. It seemed like after hanging out things were back to normal between us, no more ignored messages and awkward tension that drove me up the wall. He was back to his old and annoying self, texting me—more like spamming me—about anything and everything that came to mind, and I finally felt relaxed around him again. Well, as relaxed as I could be given the fact that my whole body jumped whenever I got a text from him and my heart would pick up its rhythm and make me blush like a stupid schoolgirl. I hated it, this feeling where I knew something was brewing deep inside, but I opted to ignore it. I wanted to ignore it. I was scared that if I stopped ignoring it, then it would become very real, and for that to happen, something even very small could trigger it. I desperately wished nothing more would put our friendship to test and that we just continue blissfully ignoring the lingering stares and the accidental touches that somehow have stopped feeling so accidental or uncomfortable lately.

“Ah, there he is!” Wooyoung exclaimed loudly, snickering at someone behind me, “The princess himself, is your highness ready at last? Or should I go with you and help you fix your boxers too or something?”

Wooyoung’s loud cackle didn’t manage to mask the low giggle behind me, and upon hearing the familiar sound, all particles of my body decided to heat up at once, making me whirl around almost frantically, blood freezing and body going cold at the approaching sight. Whoever that man was…it looked like Mingi, but at the same time it felt like a different person. A much hotter and sexier Mingi than the one I have known for a little over a month now, and I gulped, feeling my jaw about to drop open at any moment. I didn’t know at what to look first, his face, his body—outfit—or his hair? The sight of Song Mingi suddenly was too much to take in at once and I gulped, eyes settling on his outfit that was…revealing? Vulgar, perhaps? But it concealed everything in the perfect percentage, as if he purposefully wanted to tease the audience—me?

But at the same time, due to the innocent look on his face, he made it seem like he had absolutely no fucking idea of how hot and ravishing he looked, and suddenly, I couldn’t recognize my own feelings as my stomach coiled upon seeing Mingi’s sexy, all denim outfit. His jeans were a light colour and looked almost washed out with darker coloured patches strewn around the fabric, tightly ripped starting from his thighs, stopping just barely above his knees. But the fabric was long and loose, and it pooled around his ankles, this boots thick and tall, helping Mingi out from having to step on the ends of his jeans. Its waist was high and he wore no belt with the jeans, but a chain hung around his right pocket, concealed by the very similar denim jacket that he wore on top of his low-cut black tank top, positioned perfectly over his pecs, barely hiding his nipples. And perhaps the outfit wouldn’t have looked that crazy or provocative if it weren’t for the jacket, which was made out of the same material as his jeans, the front parts of its sleeves entirely ripped up, exposing his toned arms, teasing at what he’d usually hide with long sleeves as it was cold outside now. Mingi wore a beige fingerless glove on his left hand, and his right hand was adorned by the rings he liked most, all his fingernails now completely black with a hint of silver on a few of them. The long silver pendant sitting against the dip between his pecs definitely drew attention to the exposed skin, and two heavier looking silver chains clung snugly around his neck. And as he came closer, almost having reached us, I noticed the same little black scribble that I have called dirt the first time seeing it, was high on his right cheekbone again. It was his signature, apparently.

“Stop being an ass, Woo,” Mingi spoke up as he reached us at last, having stopped right in front of me—as I was still stupidly gaping at him—but he only looked past me, “my hair wouldn’t stay in place and I asked Hongjoong to help me fix it.”

“So that’s where he disappeared to,” Wooyoung chuckled, and I caught my jaw drop more open, so I quickly coughed and closed it as Mingi’s eyes briefly fell on me, “Seonghwa’s been looking for him desperately.”

“Those two need to learn how to live without each other, I swear to God, they are worse than you and Seulgi—”

“Hey!” Wooyoung scoffed and threw his best friend a glare as Seulgi chuckled, meanwhile me…yeah, I was malfunctioning. Completely and most certainly struggling to accept that the Mingi that stood in front of me wasn’t just simply conjured up by my mind, but was real, “Seulgi and I are lovely, thank you very much. But Seonghwa and Hongjoong are downright disgustingly in love with each other, even I can’t handle them anymore, and that’s a lot coming from me.”

Mingi chuckled and nodded in agreement, his eyes falling on me again, but this time they stayed on me. My muscles tensed and I gulped—my throat having gone too dry—trying to formulate one coherent thought. Mingi’s hair…it was still long, but it wasn’t black anymore. It was—this platinum blonde that sharpened his features so much more than they already were, and the way the front strands were jelled back highlighted his cheekbones, eyes, and even his tall nose.

“Hi, Y/N—”

“You’re blonde.” My mouth, once again, worked before my brain could agree to what was being said, “Like…platinum blonde.”

“Yeah, I’m blonde.” Mingi grinned, touching the back of his hair gently, eyes widening curiously, “What do you think…do you still hate blondes?”

Stupid mouth and stupid brain for not being able to synchronise when I most need them to, “No, not this blonde, not you.”

Silence settled around us and my cheeks flamed up, and I knew Seulgi was on the verge of bursting out laughing, and I wished for the Earth to swallow me up completely, but I refused to show any of those emotions as I forced my expression to become blank, and then cursed at my heart as it was hammering against my ribcage, my eyes fixated on Mingi’s flushed cheeks.

“Thanks,” Mingi cleared his throat, averting his eyes as he looked down, “I went ahead and took your advice, Seonghwa was eager to help me out.”

“Good, cool.” Tonight wasn’t my best night when it came to communicating, and I sighed loudly, much to Mingi’s amusement as he grinned then stepped even closer, throwing his arm around my shoulders and making me jump in the process. He veered us around to face Seulgi and Wooyoung, and I knew my whole face was red as I tried to keep my eyes ahead and not on Mingi’s exposed chest or arms, while also trying not to take a deep breath and inhale his scent—which was intoxicatingly sweet, yet somehow spicy at the same time. Good Lord, if I was a smoker, I’d definitely excuse myself and probably finish the whole package at this point.

“We’ll grab some drinks; do you want anything?” Mingi asked Wooyoung and Seulgi, who were both giving us looks that I rather ignored as Seulgi’s stare became insistent as she searched for eye contact.

“Nah, we’re good, right, baby?” Wooyoung kissed Seulgi’s cheek and she giggled nodding, shooing us away with her hand. What a traitor, I knew she wanted something to drink, but she thought she was playing matchmaker if she left me alone with Mingi.

Mingi shrugged and looked down at me, “Let’s go then.”

And before I could tell him that I wasn’t drinking tonight, he was veering us towards the bar, smiling from ear to ear. I rarely saw him so enthusiastic and smiley—happy—and I found myself unable to resist the need to ogle his profile as we arrived to the bar, finally releasing his hold on me. He pursed his lips as he held onto the surface of the bar, leaning a little over it. From this angle, and because I stood close to him, I could finally read what was written on his cheekbone, fix on. Well…that was peculiar, but at this point nothing really surprised me about him, not with a band name like Noir Zenith. Was it fair that Mingi looked handsome even from the side?

I realized his lips were moving, but I wasn’t focusing on what he was saying, and so, when he turned his head and smiled at me a little unsure, my eyes widened.

“Huh?” I found myself dumbly asking and Mingi giggled, the sound deep and making my palms ball up into fists because of how cute he sounded.

“I was saying that I hope you like sweet things.” He clarified as he leaned against the bar, tilting his head with a devilish glint in his dark brown eyes. I gulped and ran my hand through my hair, looking anywhere but at him. The shoes he wore made him tower over me, and I didn’t know how to feel about that. I should have worn higher heels to minimalize the sudden height difference between us.

“As long as they aren’t too sweet, I can handle them.” I muttered, and Mingi grinned as the bartender pushed a tall glass with something pinkish inside it towards me. I raised my eyebrows as the bartender went to take an order from someone else, pointing at my drink, “Is this for me?”

“Sure is.” Mingi smiled, and my eyebrows furrowed.

“Where’s yours? And why did he leave if we didn’t pay for it?” I mused as I grabbed the glass rather reluctantly.

“I don’t like to drink before the performance, and I already paid for it—”

“Mingi.” I deadpanned, cutting him off as my eyes narrowed at him, “This is the second time you pay for something that is mine. I don’t like it when guys do that—”

“But I’m not just any guy,” He leaned down, a little too close to my face, making my breathing halt in my throat, “I’m your bestie and if I want to spoil you, I certainly can and will do so.”

“That’s not how—” I took a deep breath and gave in at last when he started bating his eyebrows at me, making me huff, “Fine, thank you, Mingi.”

“You’re very welcome,” He grinned and poked my cheek, making me yank my head away as I threw a glare at him, “Now taste it so that I know you like it.”

“And if I don’t?” I teased as I took the straw between my lips and took a tentative sip.

“I’ll order something else, then.” Mingi pouted, watching me closely as I took a longer sip, humming at the strawberry-like taste of the drink. It wasn’t bad, and I couldn’t exactly taste the alcohol in it, so that was good.

“It’s tasty, so you don’t have to order anything else for me.” I tried to hide my smile as I took another sip, and Mingi looked pleased with himself as his hand glided across the bar slowly as he bit his lower lip and looked down. It was a rather unusual reaction from him, and as he cleared his throat, he suddenly touched the sleeve of my jacket, making my grip tighten around the glass.

“You look really good tonight.” His voice was low, and thus deeper, and I felt my breath get stuck in my throat for a second before I took a sip way too big of my drink, nodding at Mingi, and averting my eyes.

“Thank you,” My voice sounded a little raspy, and I quickly cleared my throat, “You—you look good too. Like…way too good.”

Mingi bit his bottom lip as his eyes bore into mine, almost making me choke on my sweet drink, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he gulped rather loudly. He opened his mouth to say something, but someone appeared to our left, thankfully saving us from saying anything else that would make everything even more awkward than it already was.

“Mingi,” The tall man touched Mingi’s shoulder while offering me a soft smile, it was Seonghwa, “five minutes and we’re starting. Let’s go, and hi, Y/N, lovely seeing you again!”

I forcibly gulped down the drink and nodded at Seonghwa, albeit with my cheeks still tinged red, “Hello, good to see you too.”

Seonghwa grinned, looking rather happy, and then he turned around and waved someone over. I watched curiously as a man shorter than both Mingi and Seonghwa—even myself—walked over, looking rather expensive and high-class for a place like Outlaw, “Hongjoong, dear, mind staying with Y/N? I don’t want you to stand to the side alone, again.”

“Whatever you wish for, my love.” My eyebrows rose unintentionally as I looked at Mingi, trying to gulp down the laughter that threatened to bubble up, the exchange between the two lovers cute, but a little too much for my liking. Mingi looked almost sick as he rolled his eyes, and then grabbed Seonghwa’s arm and waved at Hongjoong.

“We are going.” He stated, and then sent a wink at me, “See you later, doll.”

And the way my cheeks started burning again wasn’t just a trick of the dimming lights as Hongjoong looked curiously my way, coming to stand next to me as he leaned up against the bar. His hair seemed to be a mixture of a light brown and deep purple, quite the hair colour, but it looked exceptionally good on him. He wore light coloured jeans and vinyl boots with small heels, his nails painted different promiscuous colours. The black shirt underneath his very expensive looking black blazer, decorated with silver dragons, had an intricate design on its right side, the fabric coming around his neck as a thin strap, probably sleeveless too on his right side. I knew an artist when I saw one, and I smiled at him widely as I extended my hand for him to shake.

“My name is Y/N.” I said, and despite the intimidating expression on his face, he smiled at me.

“I’m Hongjoong, Seonghwa’s boyfriend.” My smile turned into a grin and I hummed as I finally spotted Seulgi running over to us, her eyes lighting up when she noticed I was standing with Hongjoong.

“Oh, Hongie!” She exclaimed and I almost choked on my drink as Hongjoong’s face fell, “Haven’t seen you in so long! Everything okay? You and Seonghwa haven’t fought again, right?!”

Seulgi sounded like a scrutinizing mother as she narrowed her eyes at Hongjoong, coming to a stop in front of him with her hands on her hips, “No! We’re fine, I’ve been busy with the company and couldn’t come, is all.”

“That better be true,” Seulgi huffed and leaned closer to the man, “I’ll be quizzing Seonghwa later too, and if your stories don’t match up…you’re in for an earful.”

“I feel like I missed out on a few chapters or something.” I butted in with a chuckle, and Hongjoong heaved a long sigh as Seulgi giggled.

“You should ask Seonghwa to tell you their little love story.” Seulgi suggested, and then raised her finger when Hongjoong went to interject, “It’s actually really cute and romantic, shut up, Hongie.”

“Stop calling me Hongie, Seulgi. I could be your father.” I coughed as I choked on the drink, which I have almost finished by now, and my eyes bulged as I stared at Hongjoong. How old was he?!

“He’s just joking, Y/N, don’t worry,” Seulgi rolled her eyes, “He could be our older brother or something, definitely not our father. Seonghwa wouldn’t date a wrinkly ass grumpy dwarf—”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from a dwarf herself.” I said underneath my breath, but both heard me, and I jumped when Hongjoong burst out laughing, flipping Seulgi off as she gaped at me with betrayal written all over her face.

“Suddenly, I understand why you and Wooyoung are together,” Hongjoong said once he had calmed down, “You’re even worse than him.”

“She really is a handful once she gets going.” I threw back the rest of the drink as Seulgi slapped my shoulder, making me sway. The lights suddenly started to further dim and Seulgi gasped, whirling around with excitement dancing all around her face.

“We have to go to the front!” She exclaimed as I placed my empty glass on the bar, and offered my arm to hook with hers as she looked back at Hongjoong and me with a wide grin, “Let’s go!”

As she started pulling me after herself, I felt a warm hand gently latch onto mine, and I looked back to see Hongjoong giving me a sheepish look, almost as if he was asking for permission. I grinned and held his hand back firmly, the three of us making it to the front, but not to the first row as it was already occupied by quite a handful of people. That wasn’t a problem, I feared I would’ve passed out if I had to stand right underneath Mingi and stare up at him as he sings his heart out.

“Thanks,” Hongjoong muttered once we let go of each other’s hands, “I know Seonghwa would’ve been disappointed if I didn’t tag along with you two.”

“You seem like a really lovely couple.” I didn’t feel like myself when I said such things, but it was the truth, they did look lovely.

“Thank you.” Hongjoong’s cat-like features softened, and I grinned back at him, “We met when he was interning for my company…”

“Oh,” I hummed, and then my eyes widened as it finally clicked why he looked slightly familiar, “Wait, you’re Kim Hongjoong?”

“Yeah, of Kim Enterprise.” He clarified, and my jaw hung open just slightly for the nth time tonight.

“Oh, my God, that’s—so cool?!” I tried to find the right words, but suddenly I realized that the sweet drink was stronger than it seemed so at first, “You’re an icon in the fashion industry, Mr. Kim, I’m an arts major myself and I have nothing to do with fashion, but I do look up to your work.”

“Call me Hongjoong, please, or else you make it sound like I’m a grandpa or something—”

“A father, really, you said it yourself.” Seulgi chimed in with a shit eating grin on her face as she crossed her arms over herself, looking up at the dark stage as movement was hearable. Hongjoong groaned and threw a glare at the side of Seulgi’s head, making me snort in amusement.

“Maybe I’ll stop giving Wooyoung cool clothes to perform in,” Hongjoong narrowed his eyes at Seulgi, who swiftly turned back, gaping at the older guy, “He can thank his lovely girlfriend for it then.”

“You wouldn’t dare—”

Trying to deescalate an unnecessary argument, I turned to give Hongjoong an amazed look, “You design the clothes they perform in?”

“Well, not really,” Suddenly, he looked quite proud of himself, “It’s mostly Seonghwa, I only give him advice here and there and supply him with the fabrics and whatnot that he needs for production.”

Oh, that was…quite the thing to do. Suddenly, I felt myself yearning for a relationship where both parties raise the other one up, teach each other how to get better, and support each other’s dreams. It was healthy, mature, comforting. A secure place, a safety net. Something I never had with Yunho, albeit understandably so as we were both teenagers while we dated, but it would’ve been nice if he didn’t almost completely break me while making me mistrust everyone and question their motives towards me, side effects that lingered even after all those years.

“You’re a good man, Hongjoong.” I found myself muttering as there were faint voices coming from up the stage, making me look over. Hongjoong hummed next to me, and then I felt him bump his shoulder against mine.

“Did Mingi finally ask you out?” Something in my system halted hearing Hongjoong’s question, brain short circuiting. Where did that question come from?

“I, uh, he—we’re just friends.” I tried to look nonchalant as I turned to face Hongjoong again, forcing a smile on my face. Yeah, we were good friends at that, besties as Mingi likes to call it. But…ignoring the fact that I’d be dating my ex’s best friend, would it really be so bad to give in to my curiosity? Lately, I failed to see the negative qualities I have first judged Mingi for, and I have realized I didn’t even hate him anymore. I don’t think I have ever actually hated him, I was blinded by my prejudice and held onto it for as long as I could. But the walls were rapidly crumbling, even more so after the day we spent at the café and at the Citadel, where Mingi—once again—proved to be a nice, understanding, funny, and yet calm guy, full of life. We were friends, but was that all that I wanted from him at this point?

Were these thoughts actually mine or had the pink drink finally gotten to me? I didn’t feel tipsy, albeit a little jittery, but for my peace of mind, I blamed it on the sweet drink. It made you think about things you have pushed to the very back of your mind, buried so deep nobody should know about them—myself included.

“Mingi is a good person, I don’t think you’ll find someone like him again.” The smile on Hongjoong’s lips was almost brotherly before it stretched wider, cat-like eyes warm and comforting. I took a deep breath and nodded my head at him in thanks wordlessly, not very keen of speaking up as I thought my voice would sound shaky. I had to divert the subject, all this Mingi talk was sending my mind into an overthinking frenzy, however, before any of us could speak up again, the lights went completely out, and the spotlights turned on at once, coating the stage in white light.

The crowd cheered loudly for Noir Zenith, especially the girls in the front row, and I found myself clapping along encouragingly with the people surrounding me. The stage was higher up than us, but you could easily step up on it if you wanted to, and the spotlights switched from a bright white to a dimmer orangey hue. Seonghwa sat at the drums to the left of the scene, Wooyoung more towards the front on the right, guitar around his shoulders and a microphone placed in front of him. Mingi stood in the middle, close to the edge of the stage, a huge smirk on his lips, sharp eyes narrowed and skimming over the crowd. Suddenly, he didn’t look like the Mingi I knew, he looked like someone else…like a rockstar ready to sing his lungs out and wove anyone that watched their performance.

“Good evening, Outlaw!” Mingi’s raspy voice resounded in the underground room, and everyone cheered loudly again. Seulgi was jumping up and down, grinning from ear to ear as she waved at Wooyoung, who had a faint blush on his cheeks. Hongjoong, who was a lot calmer than my best friend, stood smiling with his hands in his pockets, no doubt watching Seonghwa as the drummer sat back and winked our way. And I, well, I had my arms crossed over my chest, trying not to hyperventilate when Mingi’s eyes searched the crowd, and ultimately settled on my form, “We’ve prepared quite a few songs for you tonight.”

The crowd cheered again, less wildly than before, and you could hear more people coming down the stairs to watch them perform as silence settled around us for a second. I gulped and looked away when Mingi’s intense gaze became too much, the smirk seemingly etched onto his lips for now, “Some older ones and some newer ones as we work on more songs to play for you in the future. I know these days it’s getting even colder, but I thought we could warm ourselves up ith a song we haven’t performed in quite a while. Seonghwa, Wooyoung, and I thought that perhaps we could charm the newcomers with the song that wooed some of our oldest fans, how do you feel about that, Outlaw?!”

The girls in the front row went crazy, their shrills piercing our ears, and I felt my eyes narrow as I looked towards them, a lump forming in my throat when I noticed they were Mingi’s fanclub from our university. The blonde girl stood out like a sore thumb, some banner in her hands, impatiently waiting for Mingi to look at her for her to show it off. I gulped as my eyes snapped back to Mingi, who licked his lips slowly, biting his lower lip and prolonging the charged silence, “Have you ever found a person so sweet you became addicted to them and never wanted to let them go? So sugary that you didn’t care if you got sick, because you’d still continue wanting them?”

The lights suddenly went out and everyone cheered, my heart beating so fast and loud in my ears, it made me fear that both Hongjoong and Seulgi would hear it. At last, the darkness remained as the soft tunes of a melody started playing, starting out quietly, almost as a whisper of a promise that your lover would tell you late at night in the confines of your bed. I could feel my heartbeat quicken from anticipation, and I couldn’t help but shuffle a little from left to right.

『You play a twisted little game

But I know in a way

You need to complicate』

The soft yellowy hue spotlight turned on just as the soft, siren-like voice flooded our ears, Seonghwa’s eyes closed as his lips were close to the microphone, drumsticks gathered in his hands as he sat on his stool, leaning forward to better access his microphone. His slightly raspy voice was pleasant to the ears, making it feel like a dream like flow. He was the only one you could see on the otherwise dark stage.

『Believe that though we never eat

We still know how to feed

We still know how to bleed, oh』

He articulated the words clearly, captivating the crowds attention immediately as his eyelashes slowly fluttered open, quickly finding Hongjoong as his lips twitched into a small smirk, his white teeth sharp as they peeked through his parted lips as he exhaled the end note, blending it into an airy whine that had Hongjoong gulping next to me as he was seemingly transfixed by his lover, unable to take his eyes off him.

『Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now

Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now

Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now』

The spotlights around Seonghwa went out as the chorus came, suddenly now on Wooyoung as the instrumental became louder, Wooyoung’s voice a lot sharper and stronger than Seonghwa’s sultry and enchanting one. Wooyoung’s nose was scrunched up as he held onto the microphone stand with both hands, his sharp jaw working hard as his lines were a perfect mixture of breathy and sharp sounds.

『My arms keep you in the room

Barely let you move

Show me what you do, oh』

Similar to Seonghwa’s style, Wooyoung’s voice remained soft too, but higher in pitch and breathier than Seonghwa’s has been, veins protruding in his neck as he gave his all. Seulgi had her hands clutched together in front of herself, hanging onto every single note her boyfriend sang, and I felt myself tap my feet along to the beat and melody, softly nodding my head as Wooyoung’s eyes snapped open and swept over the crowd.

『Tonight we're second-guessed again

Let me wrap the chains

Addicted to the pain, oh』

Seulgi quietly clapped next to me as Wooyoung gazed at her almost longingly, grabbing his microphone off the stand to walk closer to the edge of the stage, the spotlight following him as Seulgi quietly gasped next to me, mouthing the words back to Wooyoung, probably knowing each of their songs by heart.

『Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now

Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now

Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now』

The spotlight around Wooyoung went out again just as he leaned forward and over the of the stage, making Seulgi gasp loudly next to me as her hand shoot out to hold onto my arm. I gulped down the chuckle that threatened to escape as Seonghwa’s siren-like voice was back, wispy as he looked over the crowd with his big eyes, smirking much like Mingi had, making the chorus sound like it had been written for him, and him only.

『Do you wanna see how far it goes?

Do you wanna test me now, my love?

You must be crazy if you think that I will give in so easily』

The soft sound of the music now became rougher as the spotlight on Seonghwa went out, and instead, Mingi, in the centre of the stage was illuminated, his outfit and hair making the girls cry out in the first row as the air caught in my throat, taken aback as his eyes were set already on me, drinking me up, taking in my reaction. His raspy voice was perfect as it matched the intensity of the song, picking up in harshness slightly at the ends, his eyebrows furrowing as I gulped, feeling as if I was on fire and unable to look away, almost as if Mingi’s voice and eyes had me frozen to my spot. Suddenly, I understood why Hongjoong and Seulgi were so taken by their partners.

『Things we buried low

Coming to the surface now, my love

You must be crazy if you think that I will give up the game, oh』

Suddenly the yellowy hue light was back on the stage, illuminating all three as Seonghwa and Wooyoung joined Mingi, their unique voices creating a harmony that had my arms covered in goosebumps as Seulgi whispered out a woah next to me, having me agree with her as I found their voices combined together even more powerful. Wooyoung’s higher tone carried the melodic line well, Seonghwa’s harmony with both Wooyoung and Mingi’s voice having you in awe of how well they worked together, and Mingi’s deep and raspy voice had a power that didn’t overshadow his bandmates’ voices, yet was distinct enough to hear it. Suddenly, as they got to the end of the line, the lights flickered for a second and the background melody was cut, their voices echoing in the underground room and having everyone on their toes.

『Sugar, I've got a taste for you now

Sugar, I've got a taste for you now

Sugar, I've got a taste for you now』

And then at last, the lights flashed as the melody picked up, its build-up worth it every second as Seonghwa’s hands flew around fast as he played the drums, banging his head along to the beat, Wooyoung’s eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he played the guitar with a passion that matched his personality, and I found myself holding my breath as Mingi’s harsh and deep voice matched the instrumental perfectly, carrying every single emotion he felt. His nose was scrunched up and his eyebrows strewn together as he held the microphone tightly in his hand, leaning over as he sang his lungs out, gesticulating with his hands, having the crowd go wild for him and the boys. Without realizing, I was cheering along with everyone else, my veins burning with excitement as Mingi stood up tall, throwing his head back as his gloved hand was fisted, his sharp eyes closing and feeling the music like only he could when singing, his voice strong and defined when he needed it to be. And then, I felt myself grin from ear to ear as he faced the crowd again, looking straight ahead, our gazes meeting as I mouthed back the words without even realizing I was doing so.

『Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now

Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now

Sugar, I've developed a taste for you now』

Wooyoung joined Mingi again, his voice slightly more prominent as Mingi eased up his vocal chords, becoming less harsh and tense, carrying quietly alongside Wooyoung’s as Seonghwa continued passionately playing the drums, bottom lip between his teeth as he looked up and at his bandmates, a grin appearing on his lips as he watched them sing together. Mingi placed his microphone back onto the stand, cradling it in his hands still as he leaned close to it, barely whispering the words Wooyoung sang clearly, his volatile timbre offering a culminating end to the song as suddenly their voices cut out and the harsh instruments came to an abrupt stop, melody the same as at the beginning of the song. The lights flickered once again and as I gazed up at Mingi, a small smile formed on his lips, and the Mingi I know slipped through for a second, looking happier than a child on Christmas day. I chuckled and cheered along loudly with the crowd as the song came to a calming end, only now aware of how fast my heart was beating. Hongjoong and Seulgi joined in on the clapping, and I heard Seulgi chuckle next to me as Mingi thanked the crowd, the lights changing to a soft blue hue as Seonghwa set the rhythm for their next song.

“What?” I asked as I turned my head to look at an amused looking Seulgi.

“You keep lying to yourself about Mingi, bitch.” I gave Seulgi a look that very much so told her to shut up, and as I wanted to verbalize the same thought, she didn’t give me the chance as her body jolted along to the new song, “Oh, my God, this is my favourite song!”

As Noir Zenith continued to perform, I felt myself get thirstier and thirstier, throat burning and forcing me to excuse myself and head to the bar to drink some water, however, Hongjoong said he’d follow after me as he was getting tired of standing in the crowd and getting pushed around. Seulgi told us to go on as she’d stay there, wanting to stay close by as the performance was close to coming to its end as it’s been twenty-five minutes since they started playing. Much like when going inside the crowd, I allowed Hongjoong to hold my hand as we made our way over to the bar, apologising if we stepped on anyone’s foot, and I giggled when Hongjoong ran fully into a girl that seemed to be in a hurry to get to the front of the stage. Hongjoong shook his head and we let go of each other’s hands as we finally made it to the bar, him taking a seat on a stool as he groaned, rubbing the back of his neck.

“These fangirls are crazy; I can’t wear any fancy shoes to these performances because they keep stepping on me.” I chuckled as I leaned against the bar, waving at the bartender to come over when he was free.

“I know, you should see them at university.” I huffed as the bartender started walking over, “those crazy baboons swarm Mingi like he’s a God or something, it’s embarrassing.”

“Hi, what can I get for you two?” The bartender grinned happily at us; voice raised high to talk over Mingi’s deep voice reverberating in the speakers.

“Uh,” I looked at Hongjoong, not knowing what the pink drink was called, “I don’t know if you remember what Mingi ordered for me, but it was some pink drink and it was really sweet?”

“Sure, got it, Hongjoong?” I was rather surprised that the bartender knew Hongjoong’s name, “The usual?”

“Sure, throw in more ice cubes though, it’s sweltering hot in here.” The bartender chuckled as Hongjoong fanned himself with his hand, and I had to agree as I finally could take my jacket off. The relief was instant, and I sighed as I placed it around the back of the stool Hongjoong sat on, turning around as I leaned back against the bar to watch Mingi from back here. The lights were a soft pink up on the stage and Wooyoung was jumping up and down as he played his guitar, Mingi’s fingers playing fast as he played the bass, while Seonghwa’s voice was light but piercing as he finished up the song, standing up and raising his drumsticks in the air once it came to an end. The crowd cheered and I clapped from the bar as the bartender served us our drinks, and as I reached for my pocket to take out some money, Hongjoong beat me to it and paid for our drinks.

“Hongjoong.” I gave him a stare, but he quickly brushed me off and took a contemplative sip of his, probably, pricey whiskey, “You shouldn’t have.”

“Honey, if a man wants to spoil you, let him, you’re not losing any rights to your feminism.” My jaw dropped a little bit before laughter bubbled through my lips, and Hongjoong grinned as he turned halfway around to watch the band perform as I leaned against the bar again.

“I can’t believe you just said that.” I muttered as Mingi huffed into the microphone loudly, hyping up the crowd even more. His eyes searched the crowd for a second, and I raised my sweet pink drink in a cheers motion for him to spot me. He smirked and then he was focused back on singing, crouching down and letting the front row girls touch him. I snickered and took a long sip of the tasty drink, watching his every move as Hongjoong rhythmically tapped his foot against the ground.

“You are an open book, honey, it’s rather easy to read you.” Hongjoong said, sounding amused, and he snickered when I looked at him wide eyed. That’s certainly not something I hear often as people frequently call me unapproachable and off-putting, rather intimidating and irritating. To be fair, I do it on purpose so that idiots will leave me alone.

“You’re like…only the second person to say that, Hongie.” Hongjoong groaned, and I grinned as I looked back at the stage, watching as Mingi leaned a little more forward, reaching out and tilting the blonde girl’s chin up as he whispered the lyrics sensually, making my eyebrows furrow. If my grip tightened around my glass, nobody had to know.

“You can call me anything else but Hongie, please, that girl-friend of yours gives me nightmares, I swear.” I was too focused on Mingi and that blonde girl to react in any way to what Hongjoong said. Mingi was smirking triumphantly as the blonde girl screamed out his name, jumping up and down as she held the banner up for Mingi. I wished to see what was written on it, but at the same time I didn’t.

“Seulgi is the kindest and nicest person I know,” I said at last as I cleared my throat, trying to gulp down the sudden ball that seemed to clog it, “She likes you a lot and this is her way of showing it. If you let her know you don’t like it, she’ll never stop calling you Hongie, I fear.”

Hongjoong groaned and took a large gulp of his whiskey, prompting me to do so with my drink as well, jaw clenching when that blonde chick wouldn’t stop screaming. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, licking my dry lips to remind myself that Mingi has his baboons that would literally do anything he asked them to do, and that means nothing. Maybe he likes the attention and compliments, but I’ve never actually seen him give them more attention than was necessary. Perhaps he wasn’t even too keen of them, but I figured it must feel nice when someone supports your performances so ardently. I cleared my throat and pursed my lips, leaning back on my elbows as I rested them against the bar. Hongjoong raised an eyebrow at me curiously, but I ignored his eyes on me as my eyes bore into Mingi’s, who was suddenly looking over. I tried to control my expression as the lights were fully turned back on, their performance coming to an end for tonight.

“Outlaw, you were the best!” Mingi called out, grinning from ear to ear as he did a little jump, almost as if he was celebrating a win, “Your energy is always the craziest, thank you for your continuous support and I can’t wait to see you all here again! Tell your friends and cousins, bring them over next time! I was Fix On for the night.”

Seonghwa and Wooyoung also joined Mingi at the front, Seonghwa’s arm going around Mingi’s shoulders as Wooyoung grinned and grabbed Mingi’s microphone out of his hand after he stuck his tongue out at him, “And this was your little Woo for the night, and don’t forget, only hot people listen to Noir Zenith!”

The whole room erupted into cheers and I snorted as Hongjoong groaned, holding his head in his hands as we both took sips of our drinks at the same time, “That guy is so embarrassing.”

“Yeah, I think he’s worse than Mingi.” Hongjoong and I burst into giggles as the microphone was handed to Seonghwa, who had a wide smile on his lips, his temples visible sweaty despite the off-shoulder blouse he was wearing.

“Thank you for your continuous support, we are forever grateful. I hope you enjoyed our performance tonight, and I hope to see your familiar faces at our next performance too, at which we transpire to do even better. I was Hwa for the night.” And then, he bowed deeply, prompting his two bandmates to follow suit. I hummed and looked over to Hongjoong, who was smiling proudly.

“You’re so into him, dude.” I chuckled, nudging him with my elbow, “But I get it why, he’s impossibly polite. You seem like a dude who likes order and whatnot”

“And he’s easily flustered too.” Hongjoong muttered under his breath as the crowd clapped and cheered for them one last time before they got off the stage, soft music playing in the background as other people went up on the stage to take off their instruments and to bring in the DJ’s table and mixers. I watched as the fangirls swarmed them at the foot of the stairs leading down the stage, and despite not being too many, they certainly made it seem so with how in the boys faces they got, giggling and squealing at everything they could. I watched as the boys signed whatever they were handed, and then I spotted Seulgi’s colourful retro dress as she sat down on the edge of the stage, close to Wooyoung, watching him converse with the girls with a smile on her face. Seonghwa, however, was the quickest to dip out and after swiftly engaging with the girls, he was already speed-walking off towards us, great relief visible on his face. Seonghwa wore a denim skirt tonight which reached just below his knees, cowboy boots covering his shins, a denim choker around his neck bringing the attention onto his long limb. He easily turned heads, both female and male. He was simply gorgeous with his long hair swept back by a black hair band.

“Thirsty, my love?” Hongjoong asked with a smile as Seonghwa reached us and waved at the bartender, who was quick to hand Seonghwa a bottle of water. He took it without a word and downed it quickly, groaning loudly as he patted his temples dry. I smiled and made space for him as I took another sip of my drink, eyes settling back on Mingi, who was the one swarmed most by the fangirls. The blonde was right by his arm, talking overly fast and gesticulating to him with her hands as Mingi nodded along and signed a few more things the other girls were handing him.

“I thought they’d never let me go.” Seonghwa’s voice sounded a little raw as he sighed long, looking towards the fangirls, “They are more tiring than the performances. I am grateful to them, of course, but I wish they knew how to keep their distance. I don’t know how Mingi keeps up with them without feeling bothered by them.”

“He thrives under attention.” My tone sounded bitter, and I quickly took a large gulp of my sweet drink and tried not to blush when I felt the eyes of both Hongjoong and Seonghwa on myself, looking curious but also amused, “I mean, he probably appreciates his fans—a lot.”

I knew my voice sounded strained as the blonde girl threw her head back and laughed loudly at whatever the hell Mingi was saying, and I couldn’t have felt more thankful for Seulgi and Wooyoung finally walking our way. I needed her by my side as I felt the alcohol slowly hit me, that pink thing stronger than a full-on Vodka shot. Realizing that I didn’t want to see Mingi and that blonde chick anymore, I turned my body sideways to face Hongjoong and Seonghwa instead, and was taken aback when I felt something bitter spring through my body. They had their faces leaned close together as Hongjoong had a protective arm around Seonghwa’s waist, fingers very apparently digging into his skin through the thin fabric of his off-shoulder blouse, and Seonghwa’s bottom lip was between his teeth as they seemed to be having a staring contest. I took the straw between my teeth and then gulped down almost the whole drink in one go, grinning fakely when Seulgi and Wooyoung finally reached us.

“Ey, hands off you horn dogs!” Wooyoung slapped Hongjoong’s thigh rather loudly, making my eyes widen and almost choke on my drink as Hongjoong’s head snapped in Wooyoung’s direction, glaring harshly at him. If I were Wooyoung…I probably would’ve dropped dead, but it seemed so he was fearless as he only grinned back challengingly at Hongjoong.

“Babe,” Seulgi chastised and gripped Wooyoung’s arm, yanking him a little backwards, “sorry, he’s still full of adrenaline, don’t mind him.”

Seonghwa chuckled and then turned towards the bartender as he held up two fingers at him. Seeing what I could only assume was him was asking for drinks, I quickly emptied my glass and motioned towards my glass with a wide grin. The bartender nodded in my direction, and then his back was turned to us as he started preparing our drinks. I placed the empty glass on the bar and faced the others again, plastering a smile on my face.

“You say that because you haven’t walked in on them when Seonghwa was getting—”

“Wooyoung!” Seonghwa screeched, eyes bulging out as he sprung forward, muffling Wooyoung’s mouth with his palm, “Shut up!”

Wooyoung was still going off despite his mouth being muffled, and Seulgi looked mortified as she apologized quickly, punching Wooyoung’s arm.

“I’m going to break you in half one day, Wooyoung.” Hongjoong held a menacing finger out towards Wooyoung, eyes narrowed as our drinks were served. Seonghwa took one and handed it to Wooyoung, then gave me mine, and took the other one for himself.

“Like you broke Seonghwa—”

“Enough!” Seonghwa cried out again, cheeks flushing a deep red, making me and Seulgi chuckle as I handed her my drink to take a sip. She scrunched her nose as she took a sniff and then ultimately gagged upon taking a sip.

“What is this atrocity?!” She exclaimed, grabbing Wooyoung’s drink to flush mine down with, traitor.

“It’s good!” I exclaimed, defending my sugary drink, “You just hate sweet drinks, idiot.”

“You could’ve warned me.” She mumbled, nuzzling up against Wooyoung as Seonghwa allowed Hongjoong to pull him in between his legs. I sighed and looked down as I took another sip of my drink, accidentally looking Mingi’s way. I gulped down the sweet liquid a little harsher then intended as I was greeted by the image of Mingi being alone with the blonde girl, the two of them giggling about something. The girl was twirling her atrocious hair around her fingers, batting her eyelashes at Mingi as she reached up with her other hand to touch Mingi’s platinum blonde hair. I scoffed under my breath and felt my blood boil as Mingi reached out too, touching her hair in a similar way, making the girl blush and push at his exposed chest in a flirty way.

“You think the DJ will play good music?” I heard Seulgi ask the others as my eyes remained on the two blondes, definitely trying to ignore the way my nose flared at each exhale of mine. I didn’t intend on finishing my third drink so fast, and the way my head started pulsating was a sign to slow down, but I couldn’t care less right now. The girl suddenly leaned into Mingi’s side and I placed my empty glass a little bit too harshly down onto the bar—okay, I slammed it down. If the others glanced at me curiously, neither said anything.

“Yeah, he’s an uprising DJ, he’s pretty talented.” Wooyoung said and offered Seulgi his drink again. I took a deep breath to try and level my voice because I knew otherwise everyone could hear I was pissed off.

“Where’s the bathroom?” I spoke up, voice still harsh and cold. Everyone froze for a second, Seulgi’s eyes looking at me with confusion written all over it.

“Right behind the stage.” Seonghwa explained with a soft smile, and pointed right past Mingi and the blonde chick. Great. Now I had to walk past them, what a fucking amazing thing to do. But I needed to go to the bathroom to get away from everyone and everything for a second. My cheeks had started burning from the alcohol and my jaw was tense as I tried to avoid looking at anyone for too long.

“Thanks, can you look over my jacket while I’m gone?” I asked Hongjoong and he nodded with a hum. I muttered another thanks and then squared my shoulders, willing my face to convey zero expression as I started walking towards the bathroom. The stage had been changed and set up for the DJ by now, the lights getting adjusted as more people gathered down in this smaller room, and I watched as Mingi and the girl got ushered a little more to the side of the stage. Yeah, that was completely fine, I had no issues walking past them. Why was I even reacting like this?

Mingi was just talking to his fan—flirting and flattering her, no doubt—and I was completely fine with that as his bestie. I was completely fine with the blonde bitch brushing up against him, or laughing loudly at whatever he was saying, or touching Mingi every other second, or throwing her hair back and pushing her breasts out for him to see better—yes, because I was his bestie, his friend, I was completely unbothered by it all and even managed to plaster a smile on my face as I walked past them, greeting them with a small nod and chuckle—yeah, no, perhaps I did that in a parallel universe, but in this one, I kept looking straight ahead as Mingi spotted me walking towards them. He very insistently kept looking at me despite me ignoring his and the blonde one’s existence as I stormed past them, feeling like I couldn’t breathe until I was inside the small bathroom.

I hurried over to the sink and turned it on, washing my hands with soap and then rinsing them off with cold water, then I pated my cheeks wet, hoping that the cold water would cool them off. I kept my head down and took deep breaths, finally aware of the way my body felt hot due to the alcohol that I have downed way too fast, and how my head was spinning a little bit now. The drinks were getting to me and they were making me act up—act out of character. This was certainly not me, at least not a very rational me. Mingi could talk to whomever he wanted to and he can do whatever he wants to. I gripped the edge of the sink and looked up in the mirror, finding my cheeks flushed and my lips now a darker red from the lip-gloss that had long come off, but its tint remained. I sighed loudly, shaking my head at myself as my heart kept beating fast.

“You can’t be serious right now, bitch.” I hissed at myself, frowning, “You must get your shit together and stop acting like…whichever way I’m reacting. This isn’t cool, I’m a grown-ass woman, and he’s my friend. God, I’m so pathetic, I can’t even. Get it together, woman!”

I huffed and pointed a finger at myself threateningly, realizing I haven’t checked if anyone was inside the stools. Oh well, what I did wasn’t so unusual or disturbing to happen in the girl’s bathroom. I jumped up and down for a few seconds, wriggling out my arms and patting my cheeks one last time as I readjusted my tank top as it had ridden up and I took off towards the door. However, upon opening it and stepping outside, I was greeted by Mingi leaning against the wall. I froze as the door closed behind myself, pushing me a little forward and I grunted, standing up tall as Mingi’s sharp eyes fell on me. Somehow, I got déjà vu due to our current predicament. Mingi’s face was unreadable and I took my bottom lip between my teeth before I decided to just walk off, unable to say anything to him. But, adding to the déjà vu feeling, he stopped me from leaving as he reached out, gently holding me back by my exposed bicep. I shivered at the contact, his hand oddly cool against my warm flesh, ring decorated fingers pressing into my skin.

“Doll, is everything alright?” His voice was soft and his unreadable mask slipped as his eyebrows furrowed in worry, and I gulped, trying to bite back the reproach sitting on my tongue, but the alcohol made that impossible.

“Do you call her doll too?” My tone was cold as I turned my head to look back up at Mingi, and he looked visibly confused as he came even closer, forcing me to turn around and face him. My heart was hammering in my chest, and I bit the inside of my cheek, waiting for his answer.

“Call who doll?” Mingi asked, sounding clueless, pissing me off even more as I rolled my eyes.

“The blonde girl, who else, Mingi.” I snapped and yanked my bicep out of his hold, Mingi’s visible confusion turning into befuddlement.

“She’s just a fan, I don’t call her anything—”

“Yeah,” I grinned fakely, cutting him off, “I know. She’s one of your baboons, the one who absolutely loves throwing herself at you. Really sweet, lovely.”

“Y/N,” Mingi lowered his voice, stepping so close our hands brushed together, and I gulped as I averted my eyes from his, not used to the platinum blonde sharpening his features so much just yet, “have I angered you?”

“Yes, you have.” I huffed out before I could stop myself, crossing my arms in front of my chest in a defensive way as I looked up in his eyes, “Because you ask me to come watch your performance and I come, and I even enjoy it. And you buy me a drink and then you sing all those songs like they were meant for me, written about me or whatever, but then—then you’re out there trying to—I don’t know where you’re trying to get at with that girl, but I—I—”

There was a lump in my throat and something tight squeezing around my lungs as I started breathing heavier, cheeks burning as Mingi’s face suddenly went blank. I hated it when he did that, when he didn’t let me read his emotions. I needed to know what he was thinking right now, and as I opened my mouth to call him out, he spoke up gently, “Doll, are you jealous?”

I huffed and stepped back, annoyed by his stupid assumptions of what I was feeling like. What did he know? And since when did he fathom, I’d be jealous because of him? Feeling jealous over such thing implied that I had feeling that were more than friendly, and I—was I jealous?

“No, I’m—why would I be?” I closed my eyes and shook my head, worsening the thumping of my head by doing that, “I don’t know.”

Mingi’s lips slowly slipped into an understanding smile, “It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not!” I snapped and ran my fingers through my hair as I turned my back to him, “I shouldn’t be jealous and I don’t even know if that’s what I’m feeling, I—Mingi, I always fuck up everything.”

“No, you don’t.” Mingi scoffed as his eyebrows furrowed and he didn’t approach me, but he reluctantly reached out and held my hand, intertwining our fingers as my heart started beating even wilder than before, “I won’t talk to her anymore tonight, and whatever you felt, you can take your time tomorrow and think it through, but right now, we’re here to have fun, okay?”

“Fuck, okay.” I groaned and squeezed Mingi’s hand before I released it, pulling the hem of my tank top down again, out of habit, and then I walked back to our friends with Mingi following closely after me, the first beats of the DJ’s mix dropping.

Somewhere along the night, the shots had gotten to a number I couldn’t care to count anymore and as it had passed midnight, I was positively on the fine line between tipsiness and drunkenness. The DJ played good music, a mixture of retro and newer music, playing hits loved by everyone and I found myself in the middle of the crowd, surrounded by mostly Seulgi and Wooyoung as Hongjoong and Seonghwa often came and went, excusing themselves to fresh air a little bit too often. Wooyoung would mouth a few times that they are definitely going for a quickie, but one sharp look from Hongjoong managed to scare the goofball into silence and Seulgi made sure to keep him busy whenever Seonghwa would grin shyly and motion towards the exit. And despite being invited by Mingi, the man in question was nowhere to be seen.

It bothered me—of course it did—but the buzzing underneath my skin and the swirling lights of the disco ball managed to preoccupy me as my head seemed to swirl similarly to the disco ball each time I looked up. I knew if Mingi said he wouldn’t talk to the blondie again he probably meant it, but I still couldn’t bring myself to fully believe it as I couldn’t catch a glimpse of neither whenever I squinted my eyes to look at the blurry faces in the crowd surrounding me. And Mingi stood out like a sore thumb with his platinum blonde hair now, so if I couldn’t see him, he probably wasn’t here. Which was fucking annoying and I didn’t want to party anymore, but this Chan guy that approached me probably an hour ago did a good job at keeping me put and entertained. He was slightly shorter than me, but I couldn’t find myself to care as he was funny and actually sweet, looking out for me and sending guys away if they knocked into me or tried to dance with me. At first, we bonded over our love for colour theory and I was quick to find out he was an arts major, a freshman, quite full with life and eager to experience everything our university had to offer. I didn’t want to crush his dreams, so I stayed silent about how shitty our professors could be or about the overflowing assignments and projects they’d regularly hand out to us. But sure, university is fucking cool!

Perhaps half an hour ago, or maybe twenty minutes ago or maybe only ten? —who know, my fuzzy brain couldn’t tell at that point—the goofy dance Chan and I were at had turned into rather…well, serious. The genre of music had drastically changed and the Latino beats allowed for us to put in our sexy moves, and all of a sudden, I found his arms around my middle and mine around his shoulders as we swayed our hips in sync, giggling and laughing whenever I managed to step on his toes. He was respectful and didn’t attempt to get closer than it was necessary, nor had his hands travelled lower than it was acceptable, and I was surprised to find myself comfortable in his embrace. Seulgi and Wooyoung had disappeared not long ago, apparently needing a breather and at the same time looking for Hongjoong and Seonghwa too—no word about Mingi, maybe he had gone home already. Who the fuck cares?!

“Have I told you your outfit looks good or am I drunk enough that I have forgotten all about it?!” Chan shouted over the music, lips close to my ear as I swayed my hips a little slower, a giggle bubbling past my lips.

“You have! Like—five times already!” I answered back, laughing louder when Chan’s cheeks flushed redder.

“I am officially drunk then!” He said back, looking really embarrassed, and I pinched his cute cheek without much thought.

“You’ve said that too before!” I said and Chan chuckled, shrugging his shoulders, “You’re cute!”

“Really?!” His eyes lit up and I nodded with a wide grin, pinching his cheek again as the beat became slower, our hips swaying together, matching the rhythm.

“Really!” Before I could say anything else to him, a figured towered over us from behind Chan, and suddenly, his body was pulled away from mine, making my eyebrows furrow. And when I looked up, I became even more confused as I stopped dancing and stared up at an unimpressed looking Mingi.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Mingi’s deep voice vibrated over the loud music as his grip tightened into Chan’s black shirt, and the poor guy looked quite alarmed.

“I was just dancing with Y/N!” He exclaimed, sounding rather small compared to Mingi’s booming tone.

His eyes suddenly snapped onto me and I raised an eyebrow in annoyance, “What are you doing, doll?!”

Chan seemed to freeze up, very clearly misreading the situation due to Mingi’s use of the nickname. This guy couldn’t real, he can’t be doing this! As Mingi’s eyes bore into mine, I glared up at him defiantly, crossing my arms in front of my chest as somebody from behind pushed me slightly forward.

“You can go on your merry way, buddy.” Mingi was suddenly looking down at Chan, releasing his t-shirt and tapping his shoulder way too harshly. My eyes widened as poor Chan looked embarrassed, and that was all I needed to step closer to Mingi and jab his exposed chest with my finger.

“What is your problem?!” I shouted over the music, my glare deepening when the usual blank expression slipped onto Mingi’s face, “You leave me on my own the whole night after you invited me here to come. You don’t even tell me where you are going so that maybe I don’t wonder the whole night whether you have left or not, and then you come over and try to send away the guy I’ve been quite enjoying myself with?!”

Mingi’s jaw clenched as he grabbed my finger and lowered it down from his chest, stepping closer to me before his sharp eyes were directed onto Chan, narrowing into warning slits. Chan gulped and scratched the back of his head, throwing me a glance that was apologetic before he stepped back, getting swept up by the crowd as Mingi turned to face me, still looking as menacing and intimidating as he had been when he looked at Chan. I rolled my eyes and stepped back, shaking my head as I had enough of the crowd and needed fresh air too. I wanted to find Seulgi and tell her what’s happened, and maybe grab another drink which would tip me over the edge of tipsiness, and then I could say I was officially drunk like Chan has been saying. Thinking of Chan made me only angrier, and I wasn’t too nice as I pushed my way through the crowd, oblivious to Mingi following after me swiftly. When I finally made it to the edge of the dance floor, out of the pushy crowd, I felt fingers wrap around my bicep—again—and hold me back from walking off. I huffed loudly and whirled around, glaring up at Mingi as he opened his mouth to speak—and positively piss me off more.

“You’re drunk, Y/N,” He started, his eyebrows furrowed and looking less irritated and more worried now, “You should probably go home—”

“I don’t want to go home!” I tried to yank my arm free but Mingi’s grip tightened around my bicep more, and I huffed, “And I don’t want you to tell me what to do after you left me on my own the whole night, asshole!”

“Then what do you want to do?!” Mingi exclaimed, eyebrows furrowing more as he leaned down to be eye level with me. I clenched my jaw and raised my eyebrows at him.

“I want to dance.”

“Then dance.”

“You made Chan go away and I don’t want to dance on my own.”

“Then I’ll dance with you.”

I opened my mouth to tell him off again for being an asshole, but paused as his words registered in my brain at the speed of a snail. Did he just propose to dance with me?

“Bet.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes, yanking my bicep free as I stepped back and crossed my arms in front of my chest.

“Bet.” Mingi echoed and then suddenly, he was dancing to the Latino songs that were still being played, swaying his hips in a way Chan definitely couldn’t. I gulped and felt a little disheartened as I needed a second to start dancing, glaring at Mingi as I narrowed my eyes at him, unimpressed by his stupid behaviour. But since he’s an asshole, he ignored me and ran his fingers through his hair and twirled around, extending his hand for me to take. I rolled my eyes and turned around, throwing my arms up in the air as I let the music consume me, only to feel movement around me as Mingi magically appeared in front of me, hand extended again.

I groaned but gave in, placing my hand in his and was instantly yanked closer to his body, a ravishing grin on his lips, crooked front teeth peeking through as suddenly he was making us dance a lot more animatedly to the song, in a way Chan certainly couldn’t. Since we were by the edge of the dance floor, we had plenty of space to twirl around as we wished to, and Mingi definitely took advantage of that as he led the dance, mixing in moves that had me tightly holding onto his shoulders as I didn’t know the steps. It was hilarious and entertaining, and I soon found myself relaxed again and laughing as Mingi was grinning from ear to ear, holding me firmly and twirling me around every now and then.

But the moves started getting repetitive and I was losing the rhythm as my feet got tired, and without much thinking, I took my hand out of Mingi’s and instead flushed myself against him as I threw both my arms around his neck, smiling up at him as he froze. After hesitating for a second, he smiled back and I felt his big hands rest on my hips as I nodded in content and started swaying my hips to the rhythm. Mingi didn’t move much at the beginning, almost as if he was afraid of doing something or grinding up accidentally on me—not that I would have minded—but then the music changed and his eyes lit up, and I figured it was a song he liked, because suddenly his grip tightened on my waist and his hips were moving expertly, not so shy to grind up against me anymore. I chuckled and threw my head back as Mingi finally reciprocated my fun, not really having to watch each other to anticipate the next move. Somehow, it just came naturally, and as I looked up in his eyes, I felt drawn in by them, arms tightening around his neck as his own ones slipped around my lower back into a tight embrace, our bodies moving like that without neither of us wanting to pull away. And as the lights flashed against Mingi’s platinum hair, my eyes ran over his features again, completely taken by how gorgeous this man was. Involuntarily, my eyes stopped on his plump lips and my eyebrows furrowed as I bit my lower lip, suddenly reminded of that near kiss in my room, in my bed.

What would it have felt like? What does he taste like? Are his lips as soft as they seem to be? The breath I inhaled got stuck in my throat as suddenly Mingi was leaning down, his lips closer and closer to mine as I continued looking at him, throat dry from both the anticipation and the lack of water my body was crying out for. Out of pure instinct, my fingers had a mind of their own as they travelled up and tangled into the strands on the back of his head, pulling his head down and closer, our lips hovering close, but not quite touching yet. I gulped and swiftly looked up into Mingi’s eyes, which have significantly darkened and were focused onto my own lips. But as I raised my head, silently asking him to just finally kiss me, he did the same thing he did when we were watching Ten Things I Hate About You. Instead of his plush lips pressing against mine fully, they pressed against the corner of my mouth, making me shakily exhale as he pulled back, gazing into my eyes deeply. My fingers tightened in his hair and Mingi winced for a second before he exhaled too, clearing his throat.

“You’re drunk, I’m taking you home.” He said, and suddenly I felt really disappointed. I don’t know what I wanted to hear, but those words certainly weren’t it. It didn’t take much for me to understand why I was feeling suddenly so bitter.

“I don’t want to go home!” I told him and released him, detaching myself from his warm and comforting body.

“Doll, it’s late—”

“I’m not going home, Mingi.” I snapped and went to walk to the bar, but Mingi caught my wrist.

“Y/N, I only want what’s good for you, please.” He pleaded, eyes softening as I shook my head stubbornly, trying to pry my wrist out of his firm grip.

“No, Mingi.” I raised my eyebrows at him and groaned when he wouldn’t release me.

“Okay, I won’t take you home,” I narrowed my eyes, waiting for the catch, “Do you trust me?”

“I do.” And yes, I did, very much so.

“Then let’s go.” Mingi was suddenly grinning, and I felt giddy as he veered us towards the bar so that I could take my jacket from the bartender, Minseok, who promised to keep it safe and dry behind the bar. Mingi waved at Minseok and he grinned upon understanding what we needed from him, and then disappeared as he crouched, my jacket in his hands once he stood tall again. Mingi took my jacket from him and thanked him, then gave it to me as we started walking towards the stairs that led upstairs.

“I’ll text Seulgi that we’re leaving!” I told him as I wore my jacket, fishing my phone out of my jean’s pocket. Mingi walked behind me and steadied me when I almost missed a step up the stairs, and as we made it to the top, I unlocked my phone and clicked on the chat with Seulgi and I raised my phone with the intention of sending her a photo. Mingi noticed and quickly grinned as I puckered my lips at Seulgi, and then I took the photo and sent it to her, saying that we were leaving, and for her and Wooyoung to look out for each other.

The night air was chilly as we somehow wrestled our way out of the pub, and I swung our intertwined hands between each other as Mingi led the way down the lit-up street.

“Where are we going?” I asked curiously as I realized he was holding his car keys. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him drink tonight anything besides water and some blue coloured juice. Green apple, probably.

“It’s a surprise.” Mingi winked and unlocked his old Honda, opening the door for me as I giggled and quickly hopped inside, curious as to where we were going.

At least we weren’t going home just yet, the night is still young! And the moon is beautiful.

❱❱ Next chapter

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A/N: A quick last note to show you y/n, Seulgi, and Hongjoong's outfits I have used for inspo as Seonghwa and Wooyoung's were improvised by moi lol. Also, before I do that...by the time Mingi went blonde in this story, the real Mingi went back to having black hair and I'm SO tempted to let him dye it back in this story too, BUT it's already become part of our upcoming plot so I can't lol cries but it's fine! My bestie was sick of me yapping her ears off about me wanting Mingi to go back to his natural color lol, I just don't like blonde dudes no matter how good it looked on him, I missed my black haired Mingi<3, okkk bye

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g3l3mb · 2 years ago

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how to generate creative ideas:

(i need to get this out of my brain)

Make moodboards, playlists, keep a list of people who inspire you. Before starting a project think about the general vibe you want it to embody. Ask questions like “What would this concept sound like if it was a song?” ,“What would this concept be like if it was a person?”. Create a shirt that looks like a building you like, literally anything can be combined.

Take unrelated things or concepts and mix them together. Let’s take Addams Family as an example. “What if it was a story about a typical suburban family…but GOTH!”. It basically flips everything upside down. Or “What outfit would someone wear, who’s personality is the mix of the vibes of these two songs?” Random word generators are amazing for this if you don’t know where to start from.

Try making something truly BAD and then add a twist to it. It’s a great way for your brain to let go of expectations and then think outside of the box. But you can also use this to find out what you do not wanna do under any circumstances.

Think without worrying about the limits of what you can do and when it’s time for excecution, find a way around what’s impossible. It births more creativity and adds uniqueness.

Consider what your idea is NOT before considering what it is. Limits are the best way to avoid getting overwhelmed and giving up. Don’t ALWAYS do this though (unless you wanna…), it’s just something to try out when you feel like you’re seeing too many possibilities to the point that they’re contradicting each other. Unless your goal is to make something full of contradictions, you’re a Free Man, do whatever you want.

Keep a list of random ideas you have throughout the day in your notes app or something and then at some point actually review them. Keep what you think is worth exploring and then act on it.

Find out how something works very throughoutly so you know which aspect can be changed to create something new.

Take a concept and break it down into smaller concepts, ideas, questions, key elements and then also break those ideas down etc. This will naturally lead to associations, unique ideas you wouldn’t think of without doing this. I found that this is a great way of coming up with metaphors.

This one is similar to the last two: take a piece of art you really love and try to find out the thought process behind. What’s the story, where did the artist get inspiration from, how did they incorporate those ideas in their work. How did an artist combine their personal interests and knowledge into one big thing. For example: Tolkien was an erudite linguist, so much so that he created entire functional languages in his work, such as Elvish in Lord of the Rings. Hirohiko Araki loves 80’s music so much he named characters in Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure after music references. This is why no knowledge is useless knowledge.

Think about the times you’ve been the most creative before. What were the specific circumstances? For me my best ideas always come when I have a strict deadline for something unrelated, like school (which I’m way too willing to sacrifice), or when I’m doing something mindless like walking and listening to music, or playing a game that requires no thinking. Most of the time after 10p.m. This doesn’t mean I can’t “force” myself to be creative (tips above), it just means these are the times ideas come most naturally. For some people this might be being out in nature or experiencing high emotions, maybe having their life on the line idk, to each their own.

You can’t just create. You also need to consume. The more information you absorb, the more possibilities you have with your ideas. So if you’re not feeling that creative, that’s fine, it’s the perfect opportunity to learn something new.

If you don’t already do these things and you’re looking to get more creative my advice is to ACTUALLY TRY THESE OUT. You’ll best understand them in action.

#creative #writing #creative writing #art #artist #creativity #entp #enfp #infp #intp #art tips #writing tips #writing advice #art block #writers block #creative ideas

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sc0tters · 1 year ago

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Repeated Moments | Quinn Hughes

summary: you and Quinn get a chance to see that your usual summer fling works all year round.

song: August - Taylor Swift

request: yes/no

warnings: bit of swearing, allusions to sex but nothing explicit.

word count: 1.41k

authors note: so the song August actually inspired the In His Arms series and I came up with it before this request came in. So I figured that I’d give you guys what was the other option that I had when building that series main character! If you want to see more of the celly you can find the playlist here!

He was never yours for long enough.

It started back in 2020 one night at the lake house when you two had far too much to drink and you ended up in Quinn’s room with your clothes on the floor and you tangled in his sheets.

There was a joke that you’d end up like that one day, Ellen saw the way you looked at her son. She saw the way he looked at you too. In fact the only people who didn’t see it was Alex, Jack and their other friends.

Luke didn’t see it but he walked in once when you were on Quinn’s lap making out with him and once you swore him to secrecy the youngest Hughes vowed to never tell a soul.

Despite the fact that you sat Quinn down swearing that what happened could never happen again because you believed your brothers friendship was more important than a quick fuck, it seemed to continue to happen.

After the third and fourth time that you landed up in his sheets it was clear that this was bound to be more than just a drunken evening.

Quickly it began your secret, you’d go to bed waiting until everyone fell asleep before you’d make your way to Quinn’s room making sure that you were back in your room by the time Alex was woke up.

Sure there were a few times that you two were almost caught, Jack went to the bathroom early one morning and saw you leaving his brothers room, Alex came to your room to give you a blanket once and was met with your empty bed. Cole thought he heard moans coming from Quinn’s room but he just assumed that it was him being sleep deprived.

The moment it all should have been caught was when Alex saw the hickey on your neck that you chalked off to be a burn from your curling iron, your hair had been straight all week but your brother still offered to get ice for you.

Things continued on for another summer always ending when the first one left the lake house.

A spanner was thrown into the works though when Luke invited you to his debut game because he knew you were in New Jersey for the week. The young Hughes boy had a soft spot for you because when he was like twelve you threatened to punch Jack and Trevor if they continued to tease him.

Quinn didn’t know you were going to there but the signs should have pointed to it. Ellen came with a box of your favourite fudge that only this one small candy shop in Michigan made, you were the only one on this planet Quinn knew who ate it. Jack and Luke had been talking about a girl coming with Trevor and how they were surprised that she willingly had him accompanying her on the flight.

Trevor was the kind of person that you used to put up with, he was nice don’t get yourself wrong but he literally spent the first four years of knowing you trying to flirt with you. Sure you appreciated the fact that he found you pretty but his efforts began to get irritating after a while. To put it nicely you loved Trevor but you loved him even more when he kept his mouth shut.

But recently it seemed that you two had grown close or at least that’s what it looked like to Quinn. The younger boys arm didn’t leave your shoulders when you first arrived. Originally it was because the box was packed and you had the kind of luck that would have you lost within seconds. But after a while it grew comfortable there much to Quinn’s dismay and as a result he forced himself to muster up the confidence to go over and tell Trevor to hit the road.

Every jealous bone in Quinn melted when he saw your face light up “Quinny!” You giggled as you threw your arms around him, the moment was quickly interrupted with a scoff “how come I didn’t get that reaction?” Trevor pretended to act offended by it as he placed his hand on his chest. A smile formed on your lips as you placed a kiss on your middle finger before you flipped the younger boy off who ended up laughing as he walked off.

You got the chance to turn your attention back to the older boy “hi,” you giggled as you could still see the glare he was shooting at Trevor “Quinn?” You added as you snapped your fingers in front of his face.

Quinn forced a smile onto his face as he looked at you “what’s up?” He asked as you clearly now had his attention.

There was something on his mind that you were trying to figure out “you jealous?” You teased as you hadn’t really seen him like that before.

The boy let out a scoff “why should I be?” He shot back trying to play a defensive hand.

It was all clicking in your mind “you didn’t like how close he was getting to me!” You gasped as the Canucks player placed his hand over your mouth.

Quinn rolled his eyes as he could hear your muffled laugh from behind his hand “okay maybe a little,” he sighed as he dropped his hand “you’re cute when you get all jealous,” you teased as you leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

That seemed to hit a switch in his mind “fuck I missed you.” Quinn confessed as he wrapped his hands around your waist only being allow to give you a small hug as Ellen came over to you two the moment she saw your face.

the next morning

You groaned as you heard the noise of the knocks at your hotel room door “yeah?” You yawned as you swung the door open and were met with the younger of the two Hughes brothers “you know where Quinn is?” Luke asked as he sent you a smile when he held out a cup of coffee for you, it seemed that the boys made a pit stop on the way to your hotel.

Your lips pushed into a thin line “I haven’t seen Quinn since last night in the elevator,” you lied as you sipped the warm drink. You did see Quinn in that elevator, but it wasn’t the last time that you saw him.

Jack sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair “if you see him let us know?” He mumbled as Ellen had sent her sons on a mission to find him and they just thought that his best friends room would be a good place to start.

It was awkward “of course!” You nodded as you shut the door desperate to not say anything.

Quinn popped his head out from the bottom of your bed “you think they noticed me?” He asked as he cocked his head.

You fiddled with the ends of the shirt you were wearing “nope,” you looked like an absolute angel, hair all messy, lips swollen, the clear hickies that were beginning to form, and Quinn’s Canucks shirt.

Jack furrowed his eyebrows as he leaned against the elevator wall “what are you thinking about?” Luke could see that there was clearly something working in his mind.

The middle Hughes boy snapped his fingers “you see that Canucks shirt she was in?” He asked as the T-shirt looked like it came from a team development camp.

Luke began to think about it as he also had your oath he had in his mind “yeah,” it was that moment that the penny seemed to drop “oh my god!”

You and Quinn were totally oblivious to it all as you had both been in the shower to ‘save time’ “come back here!” Quinn’s complaint drew a laugh from your lips.

He wrapped his arm around your waist as he began to place kisses along your neck “Quinn!” You tried to move your head as the feeling of him was tickling your neck.

But all of a sudden when you went quiet the eldest Hughes boy stopped “what?” He asked as he scanned your face that was full of worry.

Alex 🖤: YOU FUCKED QUINN

Alex 🖤: I shouldn’t even be surprised

Alex 🖤: you did call him cute

Alex 🖤: on multiple occasions

Alex 🖤: just no making me an uncle just yet

“you think I’m cute all the time?”

“shut up,”

Maybe this time there will be more than enough time for you two.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #imagines #oneshots #ambers 150 celly #amber writes fics

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windienine · 8 months ago

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the best game of 2024 was an hour-long visual novel demo, and i can't tell you how it ends

attack and dethrone god.

okay. oh my god. soul of sovereignty by ggdg (of lady of the shard & deltarune fame) is discounted for only a few more days, so i need to get this one out while the iron's hot.

so: i'm inviting you along on another journey. we're following a polite gentleman of the wizardly inclination (loïc) who is approached by a sickly woman in dire need (ysmé). all she requests, in her plea, is an escort to guide her to the nearby temple. his decision to support her may turn out to be the most important choice he ever makes.

... have you ever enjoyed the kind of narrative that traps two people with heavily contrasting motives and personalities together in an unbreakable contract? do you like stories of absolute devotion?

i could look at this shot forever ngl

... are you compelled by immersive speculative fantasy worlds where the use and study of magic heavily influences the rhythm of people's day-to-day lives?

(really intriguing magical linguistics system going on here)

... do you ever promise too much of yourself to others, sometimes, even when it's a bad idea?

... if it was possible -- if you could -- would you abandon your humanity for the power to change your world forever?

and, whatever you may feel in your heart about the above...

do you want to see behind the eyes of a hot trans girl as she bullshits her way into a truly volatile level of power and influence and gets everything she wants?

(+ her pet dilf lovely assistant)

if even one of these elicited a "yes," i think you'll love this story.

i'll go out of a limb:

i think, if you open up your heart, you'll find yourself falling for both of the leads. It's a game that really wants you to look at it from every angle, take it apart, and ask questions about loïc, ysmé, their stories, and what they believe to be true about the world and one another. subtext -- especially the charged subtext this story throws at you and hopes you'll piece together -- is a beautiful thing.

the number of talksprites in this demo is kind of staggering

the jrpg-inspired world of the mosaic and its surroundings is as vibrant as it is profoundly lonely, color folded into every facet of its character as you move through it. appropriately, it's really invested in a lot of questions that arise not just from high fantasy as a genre, but from the modern fantasy sensibilities of jrpgs and the interrogation of what divinity even means in a world where the gods are forces you can interact with and draw power from, however indirectly.

what can i even say? that gg and toby fox's collab score for the prelude is downright heavenly and made it onto my work playlist right alongside the deltarune ost the day it came out on bandcamp? that gg's art, especially their use of light, conveys every scene with vivid beauty?

i wouldn't be posting so much of it if i didn't want to eat every CG. oh my god. he's so pretty. it's not even fair

beyond all of that, i think the game's main resonance point with people is that gg's writing is genuinely thoughtful. they use art detail and deft character writing to convey everything about the leads, using the limited time you get with it to paint layers and layers of information on who these people are and why they make the decisions they do. soulsov's roughly an-hour-and-change of text, expressive talksprites, and lush CGs is infused with so much heart and so much horror and so much intrigue that it leaves you feeling like you're a part of this world, carried along for the ride right alongside the two leads. gg clearly really adores these two, and that level of passion makes everything loïc and ysmé do shine even brighter. in spite of (or perhaps because of) all their friction and flaws, they're easy to love.

(it's really fun to read aloud as a script, too! ysmé's a hoot.)

i hope you experience it with high expectations and an open heart. i don't think it will disappoint. it is, perhaps, just a little bit magical.

i hope you see it through to the end!

#soulsov #soul of sovereignty #indie games #deltarune #long post #i'm not saying everything i want to say here but #i need you to discover the rest and leave a nice review #ok??#i love it

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year ago

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burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter eight

summary: you and luca pick up where you left off a week ago.

warnings: fluff, smut (18+ only), literally just p*rn FOR the plot. big note on consent: there is protected (then sort of) unprotected sex in this chapter. the biggest point i'd like to make here is that both characters consent to both kinds and have a very open and honest conversation about it which, if you take away anything from this chapter, it's PLEASE HAVE HONEST CONVERSATIONS WITH THE PEOPLE YOU'RE SLEEPING WITH FOR EVERYONE'S SAFETY. ok rant over.

word count: 4.9k

listen to: the official 'burn your life down' playlist

a/n: another busy week ahead of me so I wanted to get this out here ASAP, but most likely won't be able to get the following chapter out for a bit. obviously, we don't know what happens w/ marcus' mom, but in this world, she doesn't die opening night of The Bear.

on another note: you guys are seriously the best and leave the sweetest and most excited comments/reblogs. i seriously love it when you guys scream at me in gifs/memes/all caps. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

part seven | masterlist | part nine

“Yeah uh, everything’s been goin’ good. I think Carm’s still trying to deal with everything that happened since opening – I don’t know if you heard but – but… it’s been good,” Marcus says over his FaceTime call with his mentor.

“No, I hadn’t. Eh, haven’t talked to him much since before you visited,” Luca answers, hesitant to ask about what happened during that first night.

“Got locked in the fridge and kinda lost it but… he’s doin’ okay,” Marcus explains, summing up the events of The Bear’s friends and family night.

“How are you doing? How’s your mum?” Luca asks, changing the subject from Carmen to his mentee.

He’s had more contact with Marcus – knows more of what’s going on in Marcus’ life than Carmen’s for a bit now – and Luca wants to make sure he’s being a good friend to him, considering he’d heard about Marcus’ mom’s emergency the night of The Bear’s friends and family night.

“She’s hangin’ on but… it’s not lookin’ great. It’s hard, man. I’m… doin’ the best I can,” Marcus admits, solemnly.

“I can only imagine,” Luca empathizes, because he can’t bear the thought of losing his own mum.

“But uh… anyways, what’s up? What’s new with you?” Marcus asks, his voice much more energetic from the prospect of changing the subject.

“You sure you want to hear about me?” Luca hesitates cautiously.

“Yeah, man,” Marcus agrees. Luca can hear something so sure in his voice, as if Marcus is in dire need of a distraction – to talk about anything but his sick mom. “Shit. I’d love to hear about someone else’s drama for once,”

Luca chuckles softly, his voice light as he replies, “No drama on my end. Though. Ehm… I met a girl. I actually kinda have you to thank for it, mate.”

“What do you mean?” Marcus questions.

“Well. All that talk about inspiration…” Luca says, thinking about how what he’s just makes sense.

“... you know, about being open to things outside the kitchen…. After you left, it made me realize that it’d be a while since I’d taken my own advice. Got stuck on a menu, went out for inspiration, and, well you know what they say: the rest is history.”

He knows it’s not as simple as that, but it seems like Marcus needs a little good news right now.

“Oh shit! How’s that going?” Marcus asks, his tone much lighter now.

“I’m positively chuffed, mate,” Luca chuckles, unable to hide the i’m-very-much-enamored smile that spreads across his face.

“The fuck does that even mean, man?” Marcus teases with a laugh at the oh-so-posh-sounding expression.

Luca laughs again before explaining, “It means I'm pretty damn smitten.”

“Shit,” Marcus sighs.

He can see it all over his face as he continues to see his mentor.

“You’re a goner, man.”

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

Luca walks you home this Saturday evening after his regular dinner date at your restaurant. While you had a steady flow of business tonight, Mathilde and the rest of your kitchen staff made it a point to rally so that you could join him for a bit. It’s been a week since your unplanned sleepover with Luca (and your pleasantly surprising sexy morning after), and you haven’t stopped thinking about it.

Haven’t stopped thinking about him:

The way he called you ‘love.’ The way he watched you fall apart with the most pleased look on his face. The way his fingers felt inside of you.

“Luca,” you begin.

The two of you stand across from one another, at a crossroads. The night could end here. You could say your goodbyes, give him a goodnight kiss, and go your separate ways, but that’s far from the option you’d prefer.

“Yes, love?” he asks you, as if he’s waiting for you to ask first.

There it is again.

Love.

Your eyes flicker from the cobblestone streets then back up to him as you the words fall out of your mouth:

“Do you… wanna come up?”

Something flashes across Luca’s face as he opens mouth to say something, pausing for a moment before answering, as if it’s an agreement to what you’re really asking, an ever-so confident,

“Yes.”

You smile, take a breath, then grab his hand as you turn towards the door to your building. As Luca follows you, the only sound between the two of you are your footsteps as you make your way up the stairs. The tension between you is thick, the anticipation of what happens next palpable, that takes shape as a pregnant silence. Luca is more-than-patient as you unlock your door, welcoming him into your home once again, before locking your front door behind you. He’s busy removing his shoes as you giggle, taking yours off as well.

Once both of you are barefoot, you reach for him, pulling him towards you so that he towers over you, your back pressed against the front door once again.

“This feels… eerily familiar,” Luca jokes softly, so close to kissing you that it hurts.

“Yeah,” you agree, under your breath. This is exactly where he had you a week ago, before you both decided not to do the thing you were about to do. “Think you might wanna… pick up where we left off? Now that neither of us are plastered?”

Luca waits a beat, leaning in and ghosting his lips over yours, causing you to gasp in response to his teasing.

“Do you?” he asks, his voice steady.

He wants to know that you’re sure. Wants to know that you want this as much as him. That you haven’t stopped thinking about the other day when he watched you fall apart on his fingers and how it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Yes,” you answer, your voice unwavering.

He swears under his breath before his mouth is on yours, kissing you so deeply that your head spins. You make a mental note to tell him later how absolutely perfect his lips are – how deliciously plump they are, how they feel perfect against yours, how talented they are. You kiss him back, allowing him to steal the air from your lungs as he does it, crowding you up against your front door.

Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you. You push your body against his, surprised at how steady his hands are, while yours feel so desperate, so frenzied, when he reaches for you.

His hands are all over you, leaving confident, strong touches all over your body: pulling you in closer to him by your hips, stroking up and down your back, sliding underneath the hem of your shirt like he’s already done this with you a thousand times before. With his hands already underneath your shirt, exploring new territory, and his mouth leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck, his name leaves your lips like something between a sigh and a moan.

He hums in response, pulling back for a moment. Your heart skips as a beath, as blue eyes lock with yours in a heated, lust-filled standoff.

“Come with me,” you whisper, causing Luca to move aside, letting you lead him towards your bedroom.

On the way there, you flip a hallway light on so that you can at least see where you’re going. You feel his fingers tangle with yours as he grabs your hand, his heart pounding in his chest. As soon as you reach your bedroom, you sit him down on your neatly-made bed, before turning on a small, soft, golden lamp that feels like candlelight.

It’s just enough – more of a nightlight than a lamp, really.

You approach him without a word, and Luca marvels at you. You’re a sight for sore eyes: your hair messy from the heated makeout against your front door, your lips kiss-swollen from the fact that he can barely keep his hands, let alone his mouth off of you, your pupils blow wide with desire for him and only him. You pull your shirt over your head as you climb on to his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck as you press a searing kiss to his lips.

“My god,” he murmurs, his hands coming up to meet the newly exposed skin. You settle into his lap, pressing your hips against his, arching your back into him in response to each touch. “You are so incredibly beautiful.”

You giggle before thanking him.

“Yeah, and I know that you know you’re hot,” you tease him in between kisses, because the man must know what he looks like, right? Luca mutters something about how he wasn’t trying to solicit a compliment from you as he lays back on your bed, taking you with him.

His hands hungrily grab at exposed flesh: the sides of your back, your breasts, the straps of your bra, just to pull them down enough to think he’s going to take it off. Impatiently, you grind your hips against where a tent in his pants has begun to form, earning a moan from his lips as he bucks his hips up to meet your clothed core.

“We should um-,” you start, already so turned on by the way Luca’s body moves against yours that you think you should bring this up sooner rather than later. “Things we should talk about….”

“Yes, my love?” Luca asks, grinding against you again.

You moan in response, throwing your head back as you giggle, knowing that he’s teasing you – testing your patience.

You settle down, just for a moment, both hands going to his well-toned chest. Luca’s hands still around your hips as you say:

“I have condoms. In my nightstand. And I’m also on the pill. I… just got back on it.”

Just got back on it when you started seeing him – you know, just in case this became a thing.

“I haven’t been tested since my yearly physical which was… almost a year ago… but I also haven’t exactly been having sex so,” you add, your eyes flickering away for just a moment before returning to Luca’s very blue ones.

“That’s very sexy,” he smiles up at you, his hands softly stroking your hips.

“What?” you ask with a giggle, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you shoot him a quizzical look.

“This… very direct communication,” he replies with a smirk, grinding his hips back up into yours again.

“Luca!” you squeal in response, catching yourself against him so that you don’t lose your balance.

He grins before answering, “My last test was three months ago at my yearly physical. Clean bill of health.” He pauses before saying the next thing.

“And I’m not seeing anyone else.”

You nod, leaning down to kiss him in understanding, “Okay.”

“Okay,” he replies, bringing you down once more for another passionate makeout.

Luca is right. It’s an even bigger turn on, the open communication, and now that you’ve gotten that conversation out of the way, you’re ready to dive in head first to exactly where you hope this is going. Getting undressed is a sexy, dreamy blur. You’re practically tearing Luca’s shirt over his head, unable to hide the fact that your jaw is near-on the floor as you take it in the hard planes of his abdomen. He expertly removes your bra, and before you know it, he’s gotten you onto your back, and you’re kicking your pants off to the bottom of the bed.

Luca pins both of your hands to the bed overhead with one of his hands – his fingers laced with some of yours as he holds them in place – while his other hand once again makes its way between your legs. You gasp in anticipation, unable to stop the confession that comes out of your mouth.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about that. About you. All week,” you whisper, eager to have him touch you again.

“That so?” Luca asks cockily, in between kisses.

“Yes,” you gasp, squirming underneath your touch as two his fingers dance over your clothed core.

From the wetness pooling between your legs up to your clit, the way he touches you sets off sparks all over your body. You pant, unable to think straight as Luca pulls your pantied aside, his fingertips meeting your wetness immediately. He moans in response to this discovery, his forehead pressed against yours, and you cry out when he finally gives you what you’ve been begging for, as he slips a finger into you.

“Luca,” you sigh, like you’ve gotten the only thing that could remedy your restlessness as of late.

Luca kisses you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth for a millionth time tonight as he begins sliding his finger in and out of you.

“You’re so wet, love,” he coos, teasingly, into your mouth. “It’s too easy. The way my fingers slide in and out of you.” He pushes another finger into you, beginning to stretch you again at a deliciously slow pace. “You want me this much?”

And all you can do is moan, arch your back in response to the pleasure he brings you, his hand keeping both of yours above your head while he has you at his mercy.

“So good,” you cry, as you breathe heavily. “So good. It feels-. Fuck.”

He chuckles cruelly, breaking the kiss between you as he pulls his fingers from you. You whimper in response, impatiently, greedily. The man has you under a sexual spell and you could care less about anything else right now.

“I already know how you feel about my fingers. Think I should give you my mouth too, hm?” he rasps, his question anything but rhetorical.

Luca releases your hands that he’s pinned to the mattress, beginning to kiss down your jaw, your neck, your bare torso, pausing to take each of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flickering across them like it’s a goddamn preview.

“I need to hear you say it,” he commands, his voice quiet yet dominant. Luca pauses, his journey south, leaving hot, open mouthed kisses across your belly as he looks up at you with piercing blue eyes.

“D’you want my mouth? Will you let me taste you?”

“Please,” you’re too quick, too eager to respond when you’re looking down at him, looking down at the sight before you.

Without hesitation, Luca tears your panties down your legs, impatiently tossing them behind him. He begins kissing the inside of your right thigh, alternating between soft kisses, and gentle love bites that have you squealing in delight. You let out soft moans in anticipation, sure that whatever happens next will bring you to an early grave.

A hiss in pleasure escapes your lips as you feel the heat of his breath fan over you, but before your brain can even catch up, Luca’s licking a broad stripe up your core, parting you open for him and only him.

You cry out, your head thrown back as he buries his face between your legs, tracing fierce abstract shapes over your clit. He moans against you, the vibrations too much as you surrender to him. He alternated between sucking and licking, and it’s not till he’s pushing two fingers back into you that your hands are grasping at the sheets, grabbing at the back of his head as your body writhes in pleasure.

You can feel it, that spark so deep in your belly, the coil that winds itself so tightly that the only thing it can do to relieve any tension is to snap.

“Luca. I’m gonna cum,” you beg him, a desperate whine in your voice. “Please don’t stop.”

He doesn’t. It’s as if he couldn’t bear the thought of it – like he could never be cruel enough to deny you what you’re asking for when your voice sounds so sweet, so desperate, so on fire for him.

Using his fingers and his mouth in tandem, he’s relentless in bringing you to your climax, so determined to keep his name on your lips with every gasp, moan, and exhale.

And god, does he love the way it sounds: when you’re moaning it, when you’re begging him not to stop, when you make it sound like a symphony – like he’s just created a goddamn masterpiece.

He’s left you breathless, and all you can do is breathe, allowing your brain to catch up with the pleasure your body has just experienced. Luca makes his way back up to you before pressing a searing kiss to your lips. You can taste yourself on his lips, and you have no intention of stopping now.

You can feel the weight of him as he folds his body over yours. Curious hands begin to move as you become more and more interested in exploring Luca’s body. His muscles flex underneath your fingertips as a reminder of the sheer strength of the man above you. Luca groans as you cup him over his pants, before you begin to undo his pants.

“Do you… want to grab a condom?” he asks softly.

You pause, your hands to meet his gaze with your own.

“Uh.. yeah,” you reply. You had every intention of returning the favor, but perhaps that’s something you’ll save for tomorrow. “Let me just um….”

You sit up, and Luca pulls back, kneeling on the bed as he finishes the job, undoing the button on his pants as you open your nightstand to grab a condom. You place the condom down on the bed next to you, before laying down, your legs spread enough so that Luca can settle between them as you watch him slide his pants and briefs down over his erection.

Holy. Shit.

The man’s an adonis.

And…

Well, you know you shouldn’t be surprised.

He’s 6’ 3” for godssake.

But as you see his cock standing tall, hard, precum leaking from the tip, you’re glad you’ve had quite the night of foreplay so far, especially since it’s been a while since you’ve taken a lover. Instead of hesitating, you sit up just for a moment so that you can pull him over you, pulling Luca down to you for a kiss. He’s quick to respond, using one tatted hand to cradle the back of your head, deepening the kiss as he lays over you once again.

Your right hand makes it way between you, beginning to stroke him, earning a hiss of pleasure from Luca as you wrap your hand around his thick length. He bucks into your hand and you stroke up and down his erection a few times before guiding him towards you, allowing him to use your slick as lubricant as the two of you grind against each.

You know you should do the responsible thing, but you can’t help wondering what it would feel like too. But there’s time for that. Another time for that…

As if he’s read your mind, Luca grabs the condom next to you, before sitting up. He carefully rips open the foil packet before tossing it somewhere on the floor, giving both hands the freedom to slide the latex over his hard on. And then he’s back on you, folding his body over yours as you make room for him between your legs, pressing the gentlest kiss to your lips.

“You sure you want to do this?” he asks, and you think you’ll melt with how damn considerate he is.

“Yes, baby,” you whisper back, it being the first time you’ve called him that. “Yes.”

With your ‘yes’ Luca reaches down, pressing his thick tip against your opening, then begins to push in. You both gasp at the contact as he holds your gaze, and you feel the slightest pinch as he stretches you open. Luca caresses the side of your face, watching you for any sign, any kind of reaction that you’d want to stop. He keeps his eyes on you, pushing deeper, and then deeper, till he bottoms out.

Leaning his forehead against yours as he pauses, he’s got to focus on not cumming right then and there.

“Fuck. You feel so fucking good,” he exhales, letting the way you feel take over him. You’re all warm, wet, pulsing heat and it feels too fucking good.

You give yourself a moment to adjust to his size, before beginning to give him a few experimental movements, grinding your hips where the two of you are connected. Without having to say a word, Luca understands, dragging his hard length out of you at an unbearably slow pace, before pushing back into you, eliciting moans from the both of you this time.

“Do that again,” you murmur, your eyes fluttering close and you focus on the delicious drag of his cock.

He does it again, this time thrusting a little bit harder into you, causing you to moan a little louder this time. His mouth is back on yours as he begins to set a rhythm, thrusting in and out of you while you meet his hips with yours, rocking against him at a pace that matches. It’s as if Luca’s begun to map out your body, wanting to memorize every little thing that makes you tick, that makes you scream, causes you to grasp at any grabbable surface – the sheets, his hair, his back.

His mouth is back on yours, swallowing your moans as he continues to fuck you. You’ve settled into a rhythm that feels just right – something that you can get completely lost in. It could be minutes, hours, days that you’ve been here, chasing mutual pleasure, wrapped up in each other’s arms like you need it to breathe. The way he moves against you is strong, yet gentle as Luca makes love to you, whispering the filthiest things into your mouth, into your ears, the soft canvas of your skin, as if he’s engraving them in stone.

You take me so well. So fucking pretty like this. My beautiful girl.

“Luca,” you gasp, as he gives you a particularly euphoric thrust.

“Hm?” he hums in response.

“Let me ride you,” you request, your eyelids heavy as he stays close to you.

“Yeah?” he asks you, one expressive eyebrow raising up.

“Yeah,” you nod.

Luca kisses you deeply before pausing, pulling out of you and rolling over onto his back. He thinks he’s died and gone to heaven as he watches you climb on top of him, your disheveled sex hair and desire to fuck him seem to awaken something primal in him. As you hover over him, your knees framing his hips, you line yourself up with him before taking him once again.

Luca groans, letting his hands trace gentle patterns up and down your body – his hands smooth over your ass and caress your breasts, as calloused fingertips drag across your stomach, your shoulders, your ribcage – as if he's writing a love letter against your skin.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he says, his voice low and gravelly.

He moans, closing his eyes as you begin moving your hips over him, forward and back, beginning to ride him like you’d asked to earlier. Large hands make their way to your hips, as you continue your movements, this time leaning down to kiss him. Luca moans into your mouth as your tongues tangle together, your hips never ceasing their grind against him.

It feels too good.

You feel too good.

You break the kiss this time, placing your hands on Luca’s chest for leverage as you begin to speed up your pace, letting out a moan as you fuck yourself on your lover. Back arched, hair messy, and your head thrown back, you’re completely lost in the way that he feels inside of you.

“Look at you,” Luca marvels, hands everywhere as you bring yourself closer to your second orgasm of the night. “My god, love.”

And before you know it, Luca’s sitting up, sitting tall, wrapping one of his long arms around your torso while the other braces against the bed behind him. He’s thrusting his hips up into you, his hand moving to the small of your back to keep you in perfect harmony with him. The way he hits the back of you with each thrust, how deep he is, how good it feels has you so, so close for the second time tonight. You cry out in response to a particularly hard thrust as your body slumps, resting your forehead against Luca’s shoulder.

You are no longer in control. It’s funny really – and sweet – that he let you think even for a second that you could be. But when he’s bouncing you up and down like this over his hard length, thrusts becoming more erratic, more chaotic, sloppier, you have no choice but to surrender to him. You hold onto his back and his shoulders for dear life as he fucks up into you and you can tell he’s close too.

“God, you’re so good. You’re so fucking good at this,” you whine, all nerves, and explosive pleasure behind your admission.

“I’m close. Baby, are you-?” Luca struggles to get out, the tension in his brow telling you everything you need to know.

“Yes. Harder. Fuck. I’m gonna cum,” you sob, sure that your neighbors will send you the dirtiest or looks when you run into them in the hallway tomorrow.

You cry out as his fingers return to your clit, rubbing hasty circles against you in an effort to take you there with him. All you can do is moan as you busy your mouth with leaving kisses and love bites against his shoulders and chest.

It’s somehow too much and not enough all at once as your orgasm rips through you, your entire body contracting against his. You bite down on Luca’s shoulder, and you think the pain and pleasure combined is what gets him across the finish line as he fucks you through your climax. Before you can properly come down, it’s one, two, and then a third hard thrust up into you before he lets out a primal grunt, pressing your hips down hard against his.

Luca stills inside of you, panting as the ripples of pleasure course through his body, his ears ringing from how hard he came. His eyes meet yours, and he chuckles, moving a piece of hair from your face before tucking it behind your ear.

“Hi,” he smiles, watching you carefully.

“How ya doin?” you ask him, teasingly.

He shakes his head with a laugh before pulling you towards him so that he can kiss you once again.

“I’m great,” he answers, in between kisses.

“Me too,” you agree as your lips curl into a smile against his. You press one more kiss to his lips before pulling back. As you climb off of his lap, allowing him to slip out of you, the two of you hit the mattress like you’ve just run a marathon.

“Come here, love,” he says, encouraging you closer to him.

More than happy to oblige, you curl up to his side, one of your legs wrapping around his as you lay on your side. You giggle, settling into the softness of moment, pressed up against the guy that just fucked your brains out.

“What?” he asks, in regards to your laugh.

“I just-,” you start, before giggling again. “That was really hot.”

Luca gives you a comforting squeeze, hugging you closer to him as you relax even further into his body.

“Yeah it was,” he agrees, a grin spreading across his lips.

He looks over at you to see that you’re on your way to being fast asleep. You’ve closed your eyes, so perfectly tucked underneath his arm as you rest against his body. Luca places a gentle kiss on top of your head as he grins to himself again. He’s not sure what to call it – this thing he’s feeling – because it’s too soon to call it anything, but whatever it is, he knows that his friend was right:

He’s a goner.

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

Luca doesn’t know what he did in a past life to deserve this, but as he watches you take him into your mouth, he knows he must’ve done something right. Your name escapes his lips like a prayer as you spend your morning going down on him, completely incapable of ignoring the hard-on you woke up to minutes ago.

You’d promptly pushed him onto his back before asking if you could.

And who was he to say no?

“Shit,” he hisses, as your tongue runs over the head of his hard, leaking cock.

“Wait, just-. I don’t want to cum yet. I-,” Luca stammers out, using all of his self control not to cum in your mouth right then and there. “I want to fuck you again.”

His words shoot straight to your core as you release him, climbing back over his body and letting him roll you onto your back.

“Do you want me to grab a condom?” he asks you, nipping at your jaw as his fingers discover that you’re already ready for him.

His words from last night echo in your head:

And I’m not seeing anyone else.

“No,” you say, immediately searching his face for some kind of negative reaction. “Is that okay?”

He nods, one side of his mouth turns up into that crooked smile that makes your heart race.

“Fuck,” he rasps, his head spinning as he lines himself up with your entrance, beginning to push in.

“Of course it is, love.”

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down #luca smut #chef luca smut #the bear smut #luca x reader smut

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l0vem41l · 3 months ago

Text

the passenger princess playlists

「 tws + notes: no tws, unedited, probably ooc, self-indulgent because we have fun here, author's taste in music is utter shit 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

↳ ft. these stupid parasites that keep infecting my brain aka bruce wayne,clark kent, jason todd, tim drake, and stephanie brown

author's note: THEY ARE THE PASSENGER PRINCESS!!!! WHY???? because if i projected my music taste on the reader insert we would have many issues. im not THAT self indulgent w/ my stuff i say, posting hcs of character's music tastes based on my own

you decide that it's time to show how much you trust them.

"hey," you mutter, eyes still on the road, fingers absentmindedly drumming on the wheel. "...you can have the aux cord, by the way."

▸ BRUCE doesn't even take it at first. he usually prefers to drive in complete silence himself, so he lets you handle the music. he's pretty nonchalant about what you play, indifferent to most music as long as it doesn't make his ears bleed.

the first time he takes the offer and plays something he personally enjoys, it's pretty straightforward: his main genres are classical, jazz, and dad rock. like... a lot of dad rock. he can read the room er, car?? well enough to know that the classical and jazz songs he listens to aren't exactly driving playlist material. and yes something in the way by nirvana will be played battison i fucking love you

BRUCE's songs include: ♡ she sells sanctuary by the cult ♡ something in the way by nirvana ♡ 1979 by the smashing pumpkins

▸ CLARK is more than happy to share his music! he's always been excited to hear whatever you jam out to and is pretty open to different genres. he definitely finds favorites of his that match the energy of your car playlists. doesn't wanna play anything that's too much of a bummer though, mainly because driving with you has such good vibes!!! he can't ruin that :( unless your in some sorta mood to be upset. then he's got some stuff aka a lot of elliot smith and jeff buckley

he finds a lot to love in all sorts of genres. it's a mix of stuff that he grew up listening to with his parents, stuff that he found on his own from artists he enjoys, and stuff you introduced him to. his music taste is just a mosaic of love for the people around him.

CLARK's songs include: ♡ it's been a long, long time by harry james and his orchestra ♡ cupid by sam cooke ♡ real love baby by father john misty

▸ if there's someone who's going to criticize music without sharing his full music taste? it's JASON. he's actually not mean but he'll make comments which give the impression that he thinks he'd be better with the aux. like bro ask for the aux normally. REMIND HIM WHO'S HOLDING THE WHEEL. YOU BETTER PRAY THAT THE VOTERS ARE IN YOUR FAVOUR WHEN WE DRIVE INTO THIS TELEPHONE POLE

when you give him the aux privileges he's secretly overjoyed. he likes a lot of different genres, rock, metal, indie rock, some punk... but don't ruin his mood by pointing out his music taste is vaguely inspired by bruce's. or make fun of him for listening to sleep token. obviously he likes listening to chill music too— but for a drive? it's gotta be loud and fast. secretly gets happy when you like the songs he plays. the validation gives him a quiet sort of joy.

JASON's songs include: ♡ knives out by radiohead ♡ goddamn these hands by the taxpayers ♡ custer by slipknot

▸ TIM is pretentious about music, but he doesn't intend to be. he's proud of his taste to the point where he's beyond spotify wrapped and stats.fm. i firmly believe he's made his own software to track the music he's listening to and it's thorough. that being said, he really doesn't mind listening to your music. he likes giving recommendations based off of the songs you play in the car.

tim adores branching out into different genres, and the more obscure it is, the more he likes it. given, he's also into some pretty known and loved bands. car seat headrest. radiohead. slaughter beach, dog. the minute you hand him the aux, he's trying to put you on his favourites. a lot of indie. like... so much indie. and midwest emo... american football WILL be played. he also unfortunately cannot hide his love for the pinkerton album.

TIM's songs include: ♡ never meant by american football ♡ oh! starving by car seat headrest ♡ tragic girl by weezer

▸ STEPHANIE is so cool. i've seen swiftie headcanons but guys... pop punk princess stephanie brown is too real. pop punk, alternative rock, riot grrrl— all that stuff. probably got aux privileges before you even gave her permission, she just started queuing up her songs with yours.

when she gets full control, she already has a playlist ready for the drive. it's kind of all over the place, but the vibes are great. you will go from mommy long legs to chappell roan and then to whatever recession pop artist she's into that week. steph is also a big fan of evanescence, kittie, and hole. those in specific are heavily headcanon-y but i feel like she'd appreciate them.

STEPHANIE's songs include: ♡ misery business by paramore ♡ cherry scented by jack off jill ♡ gimmie brains by bratmobile

▸ what are you listening to? you don't know but CASS seems happy at least. when you gave her aux privileges, she didn't really know what to do. she ended up just picking her favourite songs out of your usual playlists.

eventually, she gets excited by the prospect of sharing what she usually listens to and it's... something. so here's the thing: she listens to a lot of ambient noise. like, things that people usually sleep to. you once drove around for half an hour listening to nothing but the noises of rustling leaves and chirping birds through your speakers. and she was happy.

she listens to a lot of music where there's not a lot of lyrics most of the time, but tends to listen to some of stephanie's music as well— usually the more mellow side.

CASS' songs include: ♡ relaxing tranquil day in the forest by nature sounds ♡ healing ritual by whatever, dad ♡ to violet by adrianne lenker

part two... potentially??? lmk which character's you'd want ^_^

— reblogs always appreciated!

#dc #dc comics #dc x reader #dc x you #batman #superman #red hood #red robin #spoiler dc #black bat #bruce wayne #clark kent #jason todd #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #x reader #I WANTED TO ADD SO MANY MORE CHARACTERS AAUWGHWH

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lewmagoo · 9 months ago

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six summers | bob floyd

description: it's been six years. six years since you walked away from the man you loved. six years since the night that your own foolish actions led to the disappearance of sixteen-year-old melissa seresin. you’ve spent these last few years living with crippling guilt. and after everything that happened, the last thing you are expecting is an invite to return to the camp and reassume your role as counselor. but here you are, staring in disbelief at a letter asking you to do just that. providing you with the opportunity to make things right. will you be able to come to terms with the past and allow yourself to accept this second chance? or will you let your guilt consume you?

characters: bob floyd x reader, the dagger squad as their respective characters, pete mitchell, penny benjamin, a number of my own ocs

warnings: 18+ only, mentions of death, guilt, references to sex, mentions of anxiety

series status: ongoing

listen to the playlist here!

this story is inspired by @ryebecca and this fantastic moodboard she made ; i also drew some inspiration from riley sager's the last time i lied

*this is my own original work - i do not consent to having it reposted or redistributed in any way

July 30th, 1980

1:15 am

All you felt was terror. Icy cold, like someone had shoved their frigid fingers beneath your shirt, digits pressing harsh, angry bruises into the skin while they were at it. Your arms were wrapped around yourself as you stood in the damp morning air, your eyes flitting about nervously, your gut churning with nausea.

“You do realize that your negligence in this situation is going to come with consequences, right? How could you be so stupid?!” Penny Mitchell’s voice had a sharp edge to it, despite her lowered tone. Her eyes were piercing. You couldn’t look at her.

“Don’t try to pin this all on her. I’m just as much to blame.” That was Bobby’s voice, coming from beside you, an air of protectiveness emanating from him as he stepped closer, standing in solidarity with you.

“Oh, trust me, I’m holding you responsible, too. But she’s the one who was supposed to be in charge of that cabin. If she would have been at her post, this wouldn’t have happened. But no! The two of you were off doing God knows what, while one of our campers wandered off into the night!”

Penny got into your face, pointing her finger, her anger palpable, radiating off her in waves. “You had better pray that girl is still alive, because if she winds up dead, her blood is on your hands, counselor.”

May 18th, 1986

10:30 am

“Mail’s in!” The voice of your roommate carried through your apartment, pulling your attention from the rhythmic tapping of the antique typewriter you’d picked up from a yard sale. Without a second thought, you sprang from your chair, flinging open your bedroom door, bare feet quick against carpet as you hurried toward the kitchen, where Margie was just walking through the door with a stack of mail.

“Any of it addressed to me?” You asked, a hopeful inflection in your voice.

Margie nodded, tossing the envelopes onto the countertop. “Yeah, you’re popular, got two letters addressed to you.”

Eagerly, you shuffled through the stack before you located the letters she was talking about. One had no definitive markings, so you had no idea where it was from. But the other had a promising logo on the front– The Capital Gazette.

“The Gazette sent something back!” You exclaimed, flipping the envelope over, fingers trembling as you tore into the seal.

Margie gasped, her attention immediately zeroing in on the letter you held. “What did they say?!” She exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Gimme a minute!” You shot back as you rushed to unfold the paper. Your eyes hurriedly scanned the contents, but within moments, your shoulders fell, the thrill of hope fading away to heavy disappointment. The words we regret to inform you were all you needed to read to know what the letter was about.

“I didn’t get the job,” came your glum statement.

“What?” Margie snatched the paper off the counter when you let it drop, reading it for herself. “Oh, come on! You’re the best damn writer I know, how could they turn you down?!”

You shook your head, fighting the tears of disappointment that had gathered on your lash line. “They don’t need me. They’ve got better writers.”

“That’s bullshit!” She huffed, shaking her head, knocking some of her unkempt curls loose from her haphazard ponytail.

“Whatever,” you said, bitterly. “There are other newspapers I can apply to. Other magazines. People are hiring all over the place,” you said, hoping to instill hope in your own heart. But it did little to lift your spirits.

Your roommate sighed softly, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder. “I’m sorry. Really.”

“Thanks, Mar. So am I.”

Her attention shifted to the other, unopened letter on the counter. “What’s that one say?”

With a clueless shrug, you reached for it. All it bore was your address in handwriting that was oddly familiar. Tentatively, you tore into the envelope, brows furrowed as you unfolded the paper and began to read.

And then, “holy shit.”

“What is it?” Margie demanded, curious. When you looked at her, she noticed the expression of worry etched into your brow.

“Camp Mitchell,” you whispered.

At that, the woman’s eyes went wide. “Oh my God.” And then, she waved her hand, motioning you on. “What does it say?”

“They…they want me to come back as a counselor.”

I hope this letter finds you well. I am reaching out to you because I wanted to extend a formal invitation to return to camp as a counselor this summer. I know that things ended on a sour note for all of us involved, but Pete and I desire to breathe new life into this camp. We want to give other campers the chance to experience the wonder and magic of summertime at Camp Mitchell. I understand if you would prefer not to return, but it would be an honor to have you back with us again. Think we can agree to let bygones be bygones? I sure do hope so. Please give me a call at the number below and let me know if you would like to return and reassume your role as a camp counselor. Arrival deadline for counselors is May 24th. Hope to see you soon!

Best wishes,

Penny Mitchell

You stared at the words in absolute shock. They wanted you to come back? After everything that had happened? After your own foolishness had resulted in a girl going missing? You had to admit, it was a bold move on Penny’s part.

The police had heavily investigated you when young Melissa Seresin went missing six years prior. Penny had even blamed you for the girl’s disappearance. It was hard to imagine her wanting you to come anywhere near her camp ever again.

“I need to sit down,” you muttered, tossing the letter back onto the counter and stepping toward the kitchen table, where you hurriedly pulled out one of the chairs and lowered yourself into the seat. Two life-altering events had just taken place in the span of five minutes. You needed to process all of it.

As you tried to regain your wits, Margie scanned over the letter. Then, she sauntered over to you, letting out a sigh as she pulled out the chair across from you and flopped down into it, her legs parted, arms falling down to dangle over the sides. She blew a pesky curl away from her face.

Sympathetic brown eyes landed upon you, and the girl before you smiled softly. Understandingly. “What are you gonna do?”

“I really don’t know,” you said. “Since the job with The Gazette fell through…I might have no choice but to take up the offer to go back to camp. At least I’d be making some kind of income during the summer while I try to figure things out.”

Margie raised a dark brow. “Listen, you do what you think is best for you. But…after everything that happened there, are you sure you’re ready to go back? It’s only been six years.” She was not coming from a place of judgment. She was coming from a place of genuine concern for her friend.

You groaned softly, placing your head in your hands. “I dunno know what to do. Honestly, I’m not ready. But then again it might give me closure. And maybe that’s what Penny is thinking. If she wants to make things right with me after the way things ended…maybe I should go.”

The girl sighed. “Yeah, I guess closure might be something that comes outta this. I just don’t want you to have to go through all that shit again, though.”

Your mouth quirked into a grateful smile. “I know, Mar. I’ve gotta think about it, first. I’m not making any decisions yet.”

“Well, let me know what you decide. Whatever choice you make, I’ll support you.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

As Margie left you at the table to be alone with your thoughts, you considered the weight of the situation. It had all happened so fast, and you felt as if you were caught up in a whirlwind. You only had a week to make a decision, because you had to be at camp on the 24th if you decided to go.

Were you ready to go back, after only six short years? The thought made your stomach turn. Camp Mitchell was a place that held a lot of trauma for you. Your life had fallen apart there.

You had been a first-year counselor in the summer of 1980. A job meant to get you through the summer, before you returned to college in the fall. You remembered being so hopeful and excited about what the summer held.

Camp Mitchell was a camp situated in Michigan’s wilderness. Secluded, surrounded by forests as far as the eye could see. Quaint little wooden cabins. A mess hall. A volleyball pit. A lake. All the other amenities that a typical summer camp would have.

You were put in charge of the junior/senior girls' cabin. Eleventh and twelfth graders. You were slightly intimidated because you were only a few years older than they were. You worried that they would not respect you. But much to your relief, the girls accepted you with open arms.

Throughout the many weeks of camp, you bonded with several different girls who passed through your cabin. But none of them connected as well with you as Melissa Seresin.

July 1980

She was the younger sister of one of the other counselors, Jake Seresin, and she was sweet as could be. She attended camp most of the summer, because her brother worked there, and she didn’t want to remain stuck at home alone while her parents traveled for the summer.

So, she tagged along with Jake. Unlike her brother, she was not cocky. She had a very kindhearted demeanor. A little spoiled, once in a while, due to being the youngest and only girl of rich parents and a doting older brother, but nothing you couldn’t tolerate.

Melissa remained a semi-permanent fixture in your cabin, even as groups of girls from different places — schools, church youth groups, family groups, so on and so forth — passed through all summer.

She knew the camp like the back of her hand, and had spent a few summers there already. You didn’t have to worry about her like you might other campers, because she was well aware of the camp’s procedures.

That was why it was so jarring when, one night in the middle of the summer, she disappeared without a trace.

Late one night, after lights out, the girls in your cabin noticed her absence. Melissa was always in bed come lights out. Not always asleep, but certainly always present. Her neatly made, unoccupied bed raised suspicions, but it was her missing backpack that made the girls think that she had left altogether.

You were not at your post like you were supposed to be. Earlier that night, you had enforced lights out, but soon after had slipped out into the night to meet someone. The girls ranged from fifteen to eighteen years old, so you were not particularly concerned about them getting up to mischief. But in your haste to leave, you neglected to double-check that Melissa was present.

To your utter shame, you had left to meet up with another counselor. The head counselor of the seventh and eighth-grade boys' cabin, Robert Floyd. Bob to his friends. Mr. Bob to the campers. Bobby to you, and only you.

It wasn’t in your nature to sneak around. Neither was it in Bob’s. But you had gotten tangled up in an impassioned summer fling, and you took advantage of every free moment you had to be together.

It was in that time span of you and Bob sneaking off to the lake, that Melissa had gone missing. And when you returned to the cabin an hour later, the girls were all awake, in a slight state of upheaval.

“Where have you been?!” Asked Claudia, one of the senior girls. “I was about to leave and go find Mrs. Mitchell!”

“I needed some air. Why, what’s up?” You cautiously asked.

Claudia motioned to Melissa’s empty bed. “Melissa never made it in for lights out.”

You stared at the bed, its covers untouched and meticulously tucked in, as a hotel bed would be. That was the way she made it every morning. She hadn’t been in that bed since last night. “No, she was here when I left!” You insisted.

“Um, no she wasn’t,” Marissa, another senior, piped up. “Plus, her backpack is gone.”

“Oh, God. Well, that’s my bad for sure. Okay, um, I’m sure she can’t have gotten far. She knows this camp well. Don’t worry, I’ll go take a look around. The rest of you, stay put. Lemme just do a count to make sure nobody else went off with her.”

After a headcount, you came up with fourteen girls. Melissa would make fifteen, so she was the only one missing. Huffing out a sigh, and attempting to keep yourself calm and neutral so the girls wouldn’t panic, you squared your shoulders.

“I’ll go grab another counselor and we’ll take a look. Claudia, you’re the oldest, so you’re in charge. Make sure no one leaves. The rest of you, try to get some sleep. I know you’re a little freaked right now but it’s gonna be okay.” The biggest lie you could have told them. It was, in fact, not going to be okay.

“What should we do if she comes back?” Claudia asked, running a nervous hand through her thick brunette locks. Her dark eyes were fearful, although she was trying to appear brave, just as you were trying to do.

“Just make sure she stays put. I’ll come back and check in a bit, if I don’t find her, and we can touch base then.”

Once you were certain the girls understood the plan, you excused yourself again, stepping out into the humid July night. Crickets sang as you ambled down the path that led to the boys’ cabins, but the pounding of your heart in your ears drowned out the sound.

Your hands shook, unsteady as you held your flashlight before you. Tears blurred your vision, and the heat of embarrassment washed over you. How could you be so stupid? Here you were, off getting laid while one of your girls was nowhere to be found.

You had to look for her, but you weren’t going to do it alone. Hurriedly, you ascended the steps of cabin 13, the first of the boys’ cabins. Light on your feet, so as not to step on any squeaky boards, you crept closer to the door.

Three soft raps, five seconds apart. That was your code. And sure enough, within moments, the door inched open, and there was your Bobby. You had just seen him twenty minutes prior, but he’d already changed into his sleep clothes. An old camp shirt and basketball shorts.

Brow furrowed, he quietly closed the door behind him, stepping out onto the porch. You reached for his hand and guided him off the porch, onto the soft, sandy ground. “What’s goin’ on, Kit?” He asked. The nickname he’d dubbed you for reasons so much more lighthearted than the situation you were facing.

“Melissa’s gone,” you whispered. “The girls said she was never there for lights out.”

“Huh? But you checked on them before you left.”

“I did, but I…I guess I just missed Melissa. I thought she was there, but tonight was so chaotic…God, I can’t believe I could be so stupid” You despaired.

“Shh,” Bob soothed, reaching out to run comforting hands down your arms. “Hey, she probably just went for a walk. I’m not close to her, but I know she likes to go and write in that journal of hers a lot. She’s probably doing that.”

“But that’s not like her. Yeah, she writes in her diary but she’s never done this before. Just…up and left like that. I’m scared, Bobby. I think something might’ve happened to her. And it’s all my fault.”

But he was already shaking his head. “No, don’t even let your mind go there. You’ll drive yourself crazy.” His hands had moved to cup your cheeks. “Tell you what, I’ll help you look for her. If we don’t find her in the next hour, we can tell Penny and get a search party goin’.”

You prayed it wouldn’t come to that, but the sick feeling in your gut told you otherwise. It was your fault, no matter how much Bobby tried to assure you it wasn’t. If Melissa was truly missing, then you were the one to blame. But you didn’t dare speak it into the air. You couldn’t.

“O-okay. We can look together, then.”

And so, the two of you set off on the search for Melissa Seresin. Missy, as her brother liked to call her. You thought of Jake, who was in charge of the senior boys’ cabin. You knew he’d be pissed that you didn’t wake him up immediately and tell him what was going on. He was very protective of his baby sister. But you didn’t want to involve him just yet. You had to try to find her yourself, first.

You set out to search all the places she frequented. Melissa wasn’t as outgoing as her brother. She had a vibrant personality, but also had introverted tendencies. She cherished her alone time, so it wasn’t odd for her to be at the lake, or the horse stables, writing. But she was always visible, and she had never sneaked off before. And certainly not after dark, either.

These woods were terrifying at night. It was easy to get lost in their vastness. Even a girl who knew her way around could get lost. But you prayed that wasn’t the case.

You took to searching her usual hangout spots. The lake, even though you and Bob had been there a half hour ago, and hadn’t seen her. Sure enough, she wasn’t there. Then, you took a peek in the horse stables. The camp had not yet obtained horses to occupy the stables, so it was just an empty building.

Hopeful, you followed Bob inside, holding your breath as he called out, “Melissa? You in here, honey? It’s Bob Floyd.”

But you were met with dead silence, so deafening it brought a shiver down your spine. “Oh, my God. She’s gone. She’s gone forever. This is all my fault!” You panicked, burying your face in your hands.

Bobby, ever the calm and steady one, gently soothed you. “Hey. Hey! Look at me.”

You lifted your tearful eyes to his face, illuminated by the yellow glow of your flashlight.

“It’s gon’ be okay, alright? We’ll find her. We just need to go get Penny and Pete and tell ‘em what happened. We can get a search party organized. We’ll cover more ground that way.”

Lovingly, he took your hand, and together, you made the trek back toward the main part of camp, where the office, mess hall, and staff quarters were. The entire walk, your mind was spiraling with all the possibilities of what could have happened to Melissa.

Something was wrong. You knew it.

And, as it would turn out, you were, unfortunately, right. Melissa Seresin never was found. Not when you and the other counselors organized a search party. Not when the police got involved. Not when Jake and Melissa’s dad, an agent in the FBI, got his team involved. It was as if she’d vanished into thin air. Gone without a trace.

Jake blamed you. But that was okay, because you blamed yourself, too.

Your own negligence was the reason Melissa was gone. And the police grilled you for it. Much to your utter relief, the Seresins chose not to press charges. But you were left to live with the guilt, and that was punishment enough.

And now, here you were. Six years later. Wounds from the past only partially healed. Presented with an opportunity to go back to the place where it all started, and ended. If you did return, would those wounds reopen, and drain the blood from your veins? Or would those wounds finally heal?

And most importantly, did you have the guts to find out?

One Week Later

A ticket reading Harper, Michigan was clutched tightly in your hand, the paper rumpling from your grip. Your suitcase and duffel bag were beside you, as you stood at the bus depot, waiting for the Greyhound to pull up and take you to your destination.

“I still think you’re crazy for this,” Margie spoke from beside you. She’d come to see you off.

You turned to her, taking in her soft smile, despite her disapproval of your choice. “I know,” you replied.

“But I also understand why you want to do this. I really hope it gives you the closure you’re looking for.”

You threw your arms around your friend’s shoulders, hugging her tight. “Thanks, Mar. I’ll try to give you a call at some point in the next few weeks, but the only phone on the property is the one in the main office and I doubt I’ll have time.”

“Don’t worry about it. You can tell me all about it when you get back,” she assured you.

You took one last good look at her, as you knew you wouldn’t see her for a few months, if you fulfilled your commitment to work the entire camp season. The late morning sun shone down from the sky, illuminating her dark curls. Always so unkempt, but the style suited her.

“I’ll be seeing ya,” you finally said.

She nodded, squeezing your hand. “Take care of yourself. And good luck.”

The bus pulled into the stop as you bid your final goodbyes, and then, you handed off your luggage to the attendant to pack away beneath the bus before you climbed the steps into the large vehicle, flashing your ticket to the driver. You took a seat toward the back, settling in and placing your purse beside you, hoping that you would get two of the tackily upholstered seats all to yourself.

As soon as you were settled, you fished your Walkman out of your bag, unraveling the headphones and placing them on your head. As soon as you hit play, the opening sound of the 1975 Eagles album, One of These Nights, filled your ears.

You had purposely chosen this tape to accompany you on your trip, because it held a lot of nostalgic memories for you. Namely, it had been a gift from your Bobby. He’d given it to you in the beginning stages of your romance, after you’d expressed to him that the album was one of your favorites.

“I want you to have it,” he insisted. “A memento that you can have all the time, to remind you of what a great time we had together here.”

And you did have a great time. But the trauma of Melissa’s disappearance had soured the whole thing. All you had left of Bobby was this tape, and a few braided jute bracelets he had made you, from plant fibers. You still wore them on your wrist to this day.

He had tried to keep in contact with you after the camp shut down. He’d sent letters. Called your home phone. But you never answered. As much as you loved him, the reminder of what had happened was too painful, and you let your connection to him fizzle out.

But as you listened to the familiar cords, a rush of memories flooded you, the wave so intense that it took your breath away. Flashes of Bob’s beautiful face. Twinkling eyes, blushing cheeks, a crinkled button nose. The prettiest laughter you’d ever heard.

Large, warm hands exploring. Lips trailing searing kisses down your sternum. Whispers of your name. Groans of pl–

With a gasp, you snatched the headphones off your head, eyes flickering about, as if someone around you could have heard your thoughts. But everyone else was in their own little world, completely oblivious to the salacious flashbacks you had just experienced.

But they made you warm with shame nonetheless.

You’d be foolish not to admit that you’d thought of Bobby over the years. Looked back on your encounters with fondness. With desire. You’d been sexually involved with a few other people since then, but the entire time, you could only think of him. It was why you’d stopped seeing other people. They weren’t your Bobby.

You wondered if he thought about you, too.

More importantly, you wondered if he’d be returning to Camp Mitchell like you were. Were you ready to face him again? The thought made your stomach flutter with butterflies.

You imagined he’d moved on. He had to. Hell, he probably had a wife and kids already. Imagining such a thing sent a queasy rush through you. You still weren’t over him, and you supposed you never would be. He was your first great love.

But he wasn’t the only person you would potentially face from your past.

Your mind went to the other counselors you’d worked with that fateful summer. Specifically, you thought of Jake Seresin. Surely he wouldn’t return to camp, right? Not after his baby sister had disappeared from that very place. It had to be too painful for him.

Little did you know, everyone you had worked with was also traveling from their own respective homes and cities, headed right for Camp Mitchell, just like you were.

The camp was founded by Pete and Penny Mitchell, a husband and wife duo. They had started it with the best of intentions. It was in its fifth successful year when you came on staff. And that just so happened to be the last year it was in operation.

Until now.

What had made the couple decide it was a good idea to reopen the camp, you had no idea. But you were going to give it a chance. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

But several hours later, as the Greyhound pulled into the station in Harper, a tiny town boasting of a general store, a bus depot, and a long, winding road that led up to the camp itself.

As you stepped off the bus, you realized one very important detail: you had no idea how you were even getting up to the camp. Would they send a driver down to retrieve everyone?

Your question was soon answered when you caught sight of a large white poster board propped against a nearby lamppost. CAMP MITCHELL STAFF WAIT HERE. A DRIVER WILL ESCORT YOU TO CAMP.

With a sigh, you rolled your suitcase over to the post, hoping you wouldn’t have to wait long. And you didn’t. About five minutes later, an old teal-colored truck came down the road, its engine obnoxiously loud. On the side, Camp Mitchell was printed in bold letters.

You straightened, smoothing out your travel-rumpled clothes as you grabbed your belongings, prepared to help load everything into the truck. It didn’t even occur to you that you might know the driver. You expected to meet someone entirely new.

As soon as the vehicle pulled to a stop at the curb, you were already moving to the truck bed, hoisting your duffel bag over the side, letting it land with a satisfying thump.

“Here, let me,” a familiar voice spoke up, and in moments, a pair of hands were stealing your suitcase away, heaving it into the bed.

You looked up at the man assisting you, and your blood ran cold. As he turned from putting your luggage in place, he froze, too. Wide blue eyes, no longer hidden beneath a pair of wireframes, locked with your own.

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t.

But he did. In a voice as smooth and soft as butter, yet breathless with surprise. “Kit?”

You squeezed your eyes shut.

Kit. The nickname he’d dubbed you six years ago. It was something so simple. So silly. You’d had an affinity for KitKat bars that summer. They were the only candy bars you liked from the camp store. As a joke, Bobby had said “I should call you KitKat, since you like those things so much.”

And thus, it was shortened to Kit. The name stuck.

Hearing it again made your head spin. You felt woozy on your feet. You swayed a little. A memory flashed in your mind. You and him. Sitting under the old weeping willow. His fingertips wiping chocolate from the corner of your mouth.

It sent a burning ache through your chest.

“Oh my God,” you whispered. “B-Bobby.” The first words you’d spoken to him in six years.

He let out a breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “I didn’t think you’d show.”

You gathered yourself, trying to regain your composure. “I didn’t either,” you whispered.

He offered a tentative smile. “That doesn’t mean I’m not happy to see you, though.”

You lifted your head, brow furrowed in confusion. “You are?”

“Gosh, I am. It’s been too long. I didn’t…didn’t know what happened to you. You never responded to my calls or letters. I thought maybe…” He wouldn’t speak it out loud. He couldn’t.

But you inferred what he meant from his tone. He’d feared that the trauma of what had happened had been too much for you to handle. That you’d succumbed to it all.

“I was working on myself. Trying to heal.”

He nodded. “Understandable.” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled again. “I really am glad to see you, though. You look well.”

You shrugged. “I’m workin’ on it. And I’m glad to see you too.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and you realized how much he’d changed, but also stayed the same. He’d filled out. His shoulders were more broad. Muscular. His glasses were gone, presumably replaced with contacts. His hair, once close-cropped, was longer now, curling at the nape of his neck, peeking out from beneath the baseball cap he wore. His jaw was shadowed with stubble.

He looked like a man.

But there was still that boyish glint in his eyes, and hiding behind his smile. Still that same gentleness reserved particularly for you. It was overwhelming, and you could feel your chest beginning to tighten.

“Are you, uh, are you ready to head up there? Or do ya need a minute?” Bobby asked, his voice low. Laced with concern.

You stepped back. “I thought I could do this. Maybe I can’t.”

He let you have your space. “Take all the time you need.”

The rush of memories flooding you was overwhelming. The last time you saw him. The last thing you said to him.

Six Years Ago

The day you left camp, it was raining. Pouring from the sky in sheets, washing everything in a gray hue that made the world look like a watercolor painting.

The sandy ground squashed beneath your feet as you walked toward that old truck, with the camp’s logo on the side. Your luggage was stuffed into the truck bed, wrapped in plastic garbage bags so it wouldn’t get wet in the downpour.

As you climbed into the cab, Bobby came running out of the main office, making a beeline for the truck. He scrambled to wrench open the door and join you inside, breathing labored as he settled into the seat.

For a few moments, it was silent, save for the sound of him moving to start the engine. He fiddled with the heat dial, hoping to reduce the fog on the windows, as the rain had made the air unseasonably chilly that morning.

You both sat there, staring out the windshield, watching the water trickle down the glass. He made no move to put the truck in gear.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“Bobby—”

“No, listen to me. I’m sorry it came to this. It shouldn’t have.”

“What’s done is done. Please, let’s just get out of here. I can’t stay in this place another minute.”

Bobby lingered for a moment, his eyes on you, even as you refused to look at him. You were afraid that if you did, you’d melt into a fit of tears. So, with a soft sigh, he put the truck in drive, and began the journey down the winding dirt road that led out of camp.

The trip was silent. You had nothing left to say, because you’d exhausted all your words these last few weeks. Countless hours of interrogation. Recounting that night over and over again. The conclusion was that a girl was missing, and it likely would not have happened if you’d been doing your job. That was a sense of guilt that you would have to live with for the rest of your life.

Bob pulled into the bus station fifteen minutes later, and you didn’t hesitate as you hurried to slide out of your seat, shoes colliding with wet asphalt. Your chest was tight, eyes blurring with tears as you rushed to grab your luggage.

“Would ya stop for a minute?!” Bobby exclaimed, reaching out to gently grab at your arm.

But you jerked away from him. “Please, don’t…don’t make this harder than it is,” you whispered.

He stared at you, brilliant blue eyes wide, filled with emotion. “So, what, you won’t even say goodbye?”

You feared that saying goodbye would break the dam, and you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself together. You’d fall into his arms, sobbing your heart out, and you would never get on that bus. The man before you sighed, shaking his head before he moved to haul your suitcase out of the truck, placing the plastic-covered bag on the sidewalk.

“That’s it then?” He spoke, his tone grim.

Squaring your shoulders, you nodded, forcing yourself to hold it together. “Goodbye, Robert.”

You turned to leave, and he watched you go, his heart falling to pieces within him. He was losing you, perhaps forever, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He wanted to go after you. Wanted to shake you and tell you to just listen. But you were so entrenched in the trauma of what had happened that he wasn’t sure you could listen to reason at all.

So he let you leave. He watched you climb onto that Greyhound, bound for home, all while he was left there with a wound in his heart, wishing that things could have ended differently. Wishing that your love for each other had been enough to keep you with him.

But it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough. And that was something he had to live with.

May 1986

Seeing you again was a lot for him. You were just as beautiful as he remembered. Even more so, now, if that was possible. He was also hit with a rush of emotions. He never thought he’d see you again. When he’d received the letter from Penny, inviting him back to camp, he had thought about you, and was sure you wouldn’t come back.

But here you were, standing before him, uncertain and anxious, and he found himself wanting nothing more than to pull you into his arms and comfort you. But he kept his distance, not wanting to invade your personal space. You weren’t his any longer. He could not touch you the way he used to.

You took a moment to pull yourself together, taking a deep breath, counting to ten, trying to ground yourself. Then, you fixed your posture, and nodded in Bob’s direction. “Alright. I think…I think I’m okay. We can, um, we can leave if you’re ready.”

“Okay. Let’s go then.” He opened the passenger door for you, and you climbed into that old truck once again, just as you had six years ago.

Everything had come full circle.

Bobby rounded the truck and settled into the driver’s seat, and soon, he’d started the engine, pulling away from the curb, turning onto the road that led up to camp. Your gut churned with anxiety. You were really doing this. There was no turning back now.

The radio played softly as Bob drove. Some old country song. Hank Williams, you thought. Its grainy, peaceful tune did well to calm your anxiety. Your hands had stopped trembling.

“It’s been a while,” the man beside you murmured. His accent seemed to have gotten thicker, a slight twang to it.

“I know,” you replied, staring down at your lap. Then, “God, I’m so sorry, Bobby. I shouldn’t have gone no contact like I did. I got the letters you sent. And I got every message you left on my answering machine. But I just…I couldn’t bring myself to respond.”

He shook his head. “No, I get it. I should’ve given you more space. I know everything that happened was a lot for you.”

“But that’s no excuse for me to just ignore you. It wasn’t right of me. I’m really sorry.”

“Apology accepted. It’s in the past, Kit. We can leave it there.”

It was that easy. A soothing sense of relief washed over you, warming you from head to toe. That exchange made you feel a little more at ease, and the conversation soon shifted.

“Did everyone come back this year?”

He nodded, humming lowly. “Most of ‘em, surprisingly. Bradley, Natasha, Mickey, Reuben, Javy. Half got here last night. The rest came earlier this mornin’.”

You hesitated, picking at a jagged nail on your right hand. “And…Jake?”

Bob was silent for a moment, his jaw tightening. “Yeah, him too.”

You recoiled in confusion. “But…why would he come back?”

“Penny didn’t say it in her letter, but they’re doing a dedication ceremony for Melissa. There’s a new garden area they installed in the main part of camp. It’s gonna be called Melissa Jo’s Garden. They had a plaque made and everything. Jake agreed to come for the ceremony. I dunno if he’s staying all summer though.”

“Oh.” It felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from your lungs. You had not left things on a good note with Jake. He harbored deep resentment toward you for neglecting to watch over your cabin. He blamed you for his sister’s disappearance.

“He seems to be handling everything alright. He might actually be okay with seeing you again.”

But you weren’t so sure. There was that nervousness again, roiling in your gut. Did you have the nerve to face him? And how would he react? You doubted he’d welcome you back with open arms.

You’d soon find out, because just up ahead, the Camp Mitchell sign could be seen. Large, deep green in color, with white lettering. So familiar, yet so foreign all at once.

You couldn’t believe you were back. What if this turned out to be the most foolish decision you’d ever made?

You didn’t have time to consider that, because Bobby was pulling into the common area in no time, and killing the engine. It was time to face the past you’d been running like hell to get away from.

As Bob got out to gather your luggage, you pushed the old, squeaky passenger door open and let your feet land in the soft sand.

The scent of pine and honeysuckle filled your nose. It sent an intense wave of nostalgia through you. So much had changed, and yet nothing had, all at the same time.

The layout was still the same. Clinic. Main office. Mess hall. Common area. But in the middle of the main entrance was a small garden. Stone paths weaved throughout. Spindly bushes, multicolored flowers, and other plants decorated the soil. Right in the middle of the garden was what appeared to be a large stone, covered with a tarp. You assumed the plaque for Melissa was hidden beneath the tarp.

And then, a voice caught your attention. You looked up to find Penny Mitchell approaching you. Blue cotton shorts, accessorized with a belt. A blue and white striped t-shirt tucked into them. A pair of hiking boots were on her feet. Practical, that one was. Always ready for an outdoor excursion at a moment’s notice.

You braced yourself, unsure of how she would behave toward you. She had rightfully held you responsible for Melissa’s disappearance, and you weren’t sure if she’d moved on from that. But, if she’d invited you back, she had to have at least found it in her heart to forgive you. You hoped so, anyway.

“Welcome!” She said, sweeping her arms out in greeting. “I’m glad you could make it!”

“Oh, um, thanks. Me…me too,” you said, unsure of the proper response.

Bobby sidled up beside you. You didn’t feel so alone with him there.

“Did Bob fill you in on everything on the drive up?”

“Kinda, yeah,” came your answer.

Penny nodded. “Once everyone is settled, Pete and I will take you on a tour. We’ve made a lot of changes these last few months.” Then she looked at Bob. “Would you show her to her cabin? We’ll put her in cabin five.”

“Sure thing,” he replied.

“We’ll have a little orientation meeting after dinner. There’s a whole itinerary we have to go over. I put a schedule in your cabin. Any questions?”

Yeah, lots. You stared at her for a moment. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you invite me back? After everything that happened?”

She regarded you silently, her expression neutral. Then, she said, “Because I believe in second chances. Or, rather, my husband does. He wanted to bring all of you back and start with a clean slate. Whether or not you’ve earned that second chance remains to be seen. But I hope you have.” Her words sent a painful ache through your chest. You didn’t blame her for being wary of you, but it still hurt.

As she excused herself, you were once again left alone with Bobby. “Y’alright?” He gently asked, cadence low and comforting.

You processed his words for a moment. “Yeah…yeah. I’m okay.”

“You need a minute?”

“No. Let’s just get my stuff to my cabin.”

With a single nod, he grabbed your suitcase and duffel bag, moving to walk up the hill. You followed closely behind, letting the rush of memories ebb through you. The cabins were small, build from dark wood, with green paint detailing the shutters and doors. They looked like they’d received fresh coats of paint, but otherwise, everything was still the same.

It didn’t take long to reach cabin five. Bob carried your things inside, and you slowly followed, your heart quickening as you stepped through the door. The scent of cedar and pine was familiar and painful all at once.

This wasn’t the cabin you’d been in when you were here last. You were in cabin two then, just one over from this one. Even so, it looked so eerily similar that for a moment, you were transported back to the summer of 1980.

Funnily enough, Bob had been the one to show you to your cabin for the first time that year, too.

“You’ve still got ‘em.”

Your eyes flickered to him, and your brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“The bracelets I made you.”

Oh. You looked down, eyeing your wrist, where the two braided jute bracelets remained, from when he’d made them for you that year. Dyed faintly with berry juice. Fraying at the edges, but still intact. “Um, yeah…I do. Guess I just could never bring myself to take them off.”

He stepped forward, reaching his hand out. You let him gingerly take your wrist into his palm. His fingers brushed against the braided rope, and his touch sent goosebumps across your skin. “After all these years,” he whispered, afraid that if he spoke any louder, his voice would fail him.

All at once, you were floored with an intense wave of emotion, so powerful it nearly drove you to your knees. It hit you out of nowhere, like a gut punch. “Bobby,” you whimpered.

Shocking blue flickered to meet your wide-eyed gaze, and his face crumpled, bottom lip quivering. “Kit.”

You weren’t sure who moved first, but you were in each other’s arms then, holding on tightly, as if the other would float away if you loosened your grip. The sound of soft sobs reached your ears, and you realized that they were coming from you.

“I never should have walked away from you. Never, ever!” You cried against his chest. “I’m sorry!”

“No, shhh,” he soothed, cradling your head against him. “Don’t do this to yourself. It’s okay, you’re forgiven.”

You pulled back to look at him, shaking your head. “It’s not okay!”

Two large hands came up to hold your face. “It hurt me, alright? I’ll admit that. Broke my heart in two. But I never held it against you, because…because I knew everything you’d been through. I know that summer was the worst time of your life. It made sense to me if you didn’t want to speak to me ever again. I would’ve just been a reminder of everything that happened.”

“But I did want to talk to you, Bobby. I did. I just couldn’t get past the goddamn trauma.”

He shook his head, his face kind. “I know. But we’re here now, together. That’s gotta count for something.” Maybe we’ve been given a second chance, he wanted to say, but he didn’t want to move too fast. He was well aware that your romance might never be rekindled. However, he was content to just remain friends with you if it meant that you would be in his life again.

You went quiet, letting your head fall against his chest again. You couldn’t believe you were here, standing in the middle of a cabin at the place where you had lost everything. It felt so surreal. It was as if a million years had passed since you saw him here last, and yet, it also felt like no time had passed at all.

There was so much that needed to be discussed. But there was no hurry. For now, you were just relieved to know that you had not burned a bridge with your first great love. If nothing else went right for you this summer, he was the one good thing that would come out of it.

“I’m glad…I’m glad it was you who picked me up at the station,” you admitted.

Bobby smiled softly. “So am I.” He searched your face, as if memorizing it. “I really thought I wouldn’t ever see you again.”

You hummed in agreement. “Me too. But I guess fate wanted us to meet again.”

“She’s a tricky one, that Fate.”

“Don’t I know it.”

Finally, he parted from you, though the absence of his body made yours feel cold. He didn’t want to overstep. “Well…I guess I’ll let you get settled.” He moved toward the door, but your voice gave him pause.

“Actually, wait for me. I don’t want to face everyone alone. I’d prefer it if we walked together.” Bobby might be the only person in this damn place to accept you again. You wanted to cling to that, and the security it provided.

He gave a single nod. “Alright. You want any help getting settled, then?”

Together, you set about getting everything situated. Bob went around and checked the cabin for spiders, because he knew you weren’t a fan of the little (and sometimes big) guys. He found one, which he very gently coaxed into his hand (murmuring “c’mon, little buddy” as he did) and released it outside.

Once you had your stuff organized, and did a quick clean sweep of the cabin, you were ready to join everyone else. There was a paper posted on the wall just beside the door, detailing the itinerary for counselors and other camp staff. In about fifteen minutes, dinner would be served in the mess hall.

Directly following that, there would be an orientation meeting in the meeting hall, a place where staff meetings usually took place. Assemblies with the campers were also held there. It ws in that hall that you would be forced to face people from your past. Namely, you’d have to face Jake again.

The thought made your stomach churn, and your hands tremble. But then, Bob’s gentle presence brought you back to the presence, and your racing heart calmed down a little.

He offered you a kind smile. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” you said with a nod.

Together, you walked out of that cabin and into the camp grounds, falling into silence as your steps synced up. There were so many things Bobby wanted to say, but he didn’t want to inundate you with questions and confessions, so he left it. He knew you had to be terribly overwhelmed as it was. He didn’t want to be the cause of more stress.

So, silence it was, all the way until you got to the mess hall. He stopped to open the door for you, and you hesitated.

“It’s okay,” he assured you. “I’ll be right here with you the whole time.”

You liked the sound of that.

So, with a deep breath and squared shoulders, you stepped through that door, entering the room. Dark wood stretched out before you. The mess hall was a similar design to the cabins, just much bigger. High ceilings with unfinished wooden beams. Wooden floors and walls. Dark green paint detailing. Windows on each wall to let in natural light. A large stone fireplace in the middle of the room.

It was very cozy, but as your gaze shifted to the table of faces to your left, you felt a chill run over you. Here goes nothing.

You appraoched the table, taking in each person seated there. At the head of the table was Pete Mitchell, Penny’s husband. He lifted his head and offered a smile, but you couldn’t quite place the look in his eyes. Beside him, Penny glanced up at you.

Then, to her right, you saw Natasha Trace. Another person you had once had a connection with. She was good friends with Bobby before you met him. The two of them had gone to school, and eventually college, together. Beside her was a woman you’d never seen before, but judging by the way Natasha held her hand, you inferred that they were in a relationship. It was no surprise to you. Nat had always made it clear that she only had eyes for women.

Then, on the other side of the woman was Mickey Garcia, another one of Bob’s good friends. His best friend, in fact. Mickey offered you a smile, and you took that as acceptance of you. He always had been rooting for you, all those summers ago.

Beside Mickey was Javy Machado. You couldn’t get a read on him. His face bore a neutral expression as he regarded you. Back then, he’d been best friends with Jake, and had therefore been completely on his side. You assumed the sentiment was still the same.

Then, of course, there was Bradley Bradshaw. He was Pete and Penny’s surrogate son, in a way. After Bradley’s mother died when he was a teenager, Pete had brought him on to learn how to run the camp. One day, he would take charge of the place, after the husband and wife duo retired.

All of them were seated around that table, but you noticed that one was missing. You had no idea where Jake was. Maybe he wasn’t joining everyone for dinner. Maybe he’d left. A part of you hoped so.

“Wanna sit here?” Bobby asked, motioning to two seats next to Bradley.

You nodded, and he pulled out your chair for you. Once you were seated, he took his own seat beside you, between Bradley and you. The other man leaned over the table, and you got a look at his face for the first time in six years. He’d lost his baby face, and was now sporting a defined jaw. A neatly kept mustache shadowed his upper lip. You thought it suited him. “Good to see you again,” he said.

Bradley’s statement seemed to break the ice, and a few murmurs of greeting echoed around the table. Even still, an air of awkwardness hovered over the group. You wanted to crawl out of your own skin. But you were here now, and there was no turning back.

The food was set up around the table like a regular family dinner. Simple foods. Sandwiches. Veggies and dip. Chips. You grabbed a sandwich, but you found your stomach in knots, and the thought of eating anything nauseated you.

“Well, Penny, you did it. Got us all to come back. Good on you,” Natasha spoke up.

Penny shrugged. “Pete and I have been talking about it for a while. I know the way things ended back in ‘80 was…bad, to say the least. But we really feel that this place has potential, and we could breathe new life into it.”

“What do the Seresins think about that?” Javy asked, his brow raised.

“We think it’s an okay idea,” a voice spoke up from across the room.

The group looked up all at once to see the man stepping through the door. You tensed, taking in a breath. Your heart rate picked up, thudding against your chest as the chill of anxiety crawled along your spine.

“Really?” Natasha piped up.

Jake nodded as he approached the group. “Yeah. Seeing as how Penny wants to dedicate this place to Missy. We all remember how much she loved it here. I firmly believe she’d want it to keep going.”

Penny smiled. “I’m glad we’re on the same page, Jake.”

He stopped at the empty end of the table, hands coming up to rest upon the back of the chair there. “But I do have one question.”

“What’s that?” The woman asked.

Jake smiled, but you could tell is wasn’t a real smile. In fact, when you looked at his eyes, the pale green was filled with snake’s venom. “What the fuck is she doing here?” He jabbed his finger in your direction, and you froze, your eyes growing wide.

That was more like the reaction you’d been expecting.

Penny faltered, her smile fading. Beside you, you felt Bob stiffen. But you didn’t dare pull your eyes away from Jake’s accusatory glare.

“I-I just thought that–”

“I don’t care. Look, Penny; I really appreciate you putting this all together, but in what world did you think it was okay to invite the person who had a hand in my sister’s disappearance?”

“She isn’t the one who wanted to invite her. I am.” Pete stood from his seat, his eyes narrow. “I thought that she deserved a second chance. And I wanted you to find it in yourself to allow her that chance.”

“Oh, really? What, is she gonna bring my sister back? Hm?” Jake’s gaze was so cold. You wished the ground would swallow you up. How on earth could you have thought this was a good idea?

“No, but–”

“If she stays, I’m refusing the dedication. She’s the reason I lost Missy. She doesn’t get to just stand there and pretend she’s sorry, while my parents and I are still grieving.”

Your eyes had blurred with tears, and your chest was tight. You should never have come.

But then, “leave ‘er alone, Jake.” Bobby stood up, facing the other man.

“Oh, you coming to her rescue is rich, Baby on Board. Wasn’t it your dick she was sucking when my kid sister went missing?”

The room went dead silent.

Bob took a breath. Then two. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that. She’s here, whether you like it or not. And she deserves another chance, just as much as anybody.”

“No, you know what? You’re right. This was a mistake. I should never have come,” you spoke up, rising from your chair.

But Bobby grabbed your arm. “No. Don’t let him drive you away.” His eyes were pleading.

You pulled away from his grasp, sadly shaking your head.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. Then you turned to Jake. “I wish I could bring your sister back. But I can’t. You need to know that I cared about her. And I should have been more thorough when I did bed check that night. I regret it every day, and I’ve lived with that guilt for the last six years. But my guilt is nothing compared to the loss you and your parents have had to endure. And for that, I’m so fucking sorry. I’ll leave, if that’s what you’d prefer. I never should have come in the first place.”

With that, you ducked your head, pushing your chair out of the way as you scrambled toward the exit. You could hear Bob calling your name, but you ignored him, your legs carrying you quickly toward the door. Your vision had tunneled, and your chest was heavy. You had to get out of that building. You felt like you were suffocating. Like someone had pulled a plastic bag over your face.

You threw your arms out in front of you and shoved the door open, letting out a great heaving sob as you stumbled down the front steps. You made it a few feet from the stairs before you leaned forward, hands braced on your knees as you fell apart.

“Oh, God!” You cried. You heard footsteps quickly approaching. It made you whirl around. “Just leave me the fuck alone!” Came your wail.

“No! I don’t care what he says, you deserve to be here!”

It was Bob, you realized.

“What do you want me to do, then?! He doesn’t want me here, Bob! And I never should’ve come. So just…just pull the truck around and I’ll get my luggage and get the fuck out of here.”

“No.”

“Either you take me back to the station, or I’ll get someone else to do it!”

“No other buses are running until tomorrow morning, so you can’t leave anyway! You’re stuck here for the night.”

“Goddammit!” You yelled. “I just want to leave!”

He grabbed you by the shoulders. “You’re not listening to me! I can’t handle watching you walk away from me again. I lost you once, and I’ll be damned if I let Jake Seresin be the reason I lose you again!”

And then, silence.

“Oh.”

He released your shoulders suddenly, his face stricken. “I-I’m sorry. I’m coming on way too strong. This is probably super overwhelming for you and I’m just making it worse.”

“No. No, you…you aren’t.” A pause. And then, “I don’t want to walk away from you again, either.”

“If you want to leave, then I’ll take you to the station tomorrow morning. But I just want you to try and stay. I know Jake doesn’t want you here, but I’m sure Pete can convince him to at least give you a chance.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

However, back inside the mess hall, a discussion was happening. “I’m sorry, Jake. I know we should have told you we invited her back. I take full responsibility for that oversight. But your parents…they knew she was coming. We checked with them beforehand. Your mom is of the belief that we should give her another chance.”

“What?” Jake asked, incredulous.

“Yeah. So, I know it’s hard for you, but if your mom is willing to forgive, then I’m going to respect that, and give this girl a chance. You know she’s lived with this guilt for so long. I think that’s punishment enough.”

The blonde sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t like it. If it was up to me, she’d be on the next Greyhound outta here. But if my mom wants her here…” He looked out the window, eyeing you and Bob as you spoke to each other. “It boggles my damn mind, but I’ll respect my mom’s wishes. That doesn’t mean I forgive her, though. I don’t think I ever will. But you go ahead and keep her on staff. Something tells me it ain’t gonna end well, but what do I know?”

And with that, Jake stalked off in a huff.

He swung the screen door open, and your head shot up, your eyes widening as you saw him coming down the steps. Bobby took a protective step toward you.

“You can stay,” Jake said as he walked past. “But only because my mom is the one who wanted you here.” Then he leaned in close. Well, as close as Bob would allow him to get. “But just know this. If you fuck up in any way, shape, or form, I’ll ship you back home myself. We clear?”

“Y-yes,” you responded with a curt nod.

“Good.”

And with that, Jake Seresin walked away.

You let out an unsteady breath, your shoulders slumping. Bobby looked at you, his gaze questioning. “What are you gonna do?”

You shook your head. “I…I don’t…”

“You don’t need to decide now. Just sleep on it. Make your decision with a fresh mind, alright?”

“Yeah,” came your whispered reply. “Yeah, that’s–that’s what I’ll do.”

He took his baseball cap off, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. I know this is a lot for you. Do ya wanna just turn in early? I’m sure they’d understand if you skipped orientation.”

You considered his words, and finally, you shook your head. “No. I’ll, uh, I’ll try to go, and see how I do. But I think I’m going to just go and lay down for a while until then.”

“Want me to walk you back?”

“I’d like that.”

With a soft smile and a nod, Bobby began to guide you back toward the cabins. Your hands were shaking, and your head was spinning. It felt like someone had shoved their hands into your chest and taken hold of your lungs, squeezing them with all their might.

It was a painfully uncomfortable feeling, and you hoped that it would pass soon. But as long as you were here, in this place that held so many memories, it would probably remain a permanent fixture in your body. The only thing that soothed it was Bobby’s presence.

Even after all these years, and after the sour note you’d left him on, being near him still felt so comforting and peaceful. It was an odd, but welcome, sensation. You hadn’t expected it to be this way. When you thought of seeing him again, you imagined it would be painfully awkward, or that maybe he would refuse to speak to you.

But this was Robert Floyd you were talking about. He didn’t hold grudges. And if he did, then he’d been deeply hurt beyond repair. It was a relief to know that things were not beyond mending between you. At the moment, you were too overwhelmed and emotional to even consider what it might mean for you in the future. You were just grateful that he was near you again.

So much had changed. When you’d left him, he’d been more gangly. Twenty-two years old. Large wireframes perched atop his nose. All round cheeks and softer features. Now, he seemed a little taller. Or maybe, his slight bulk made him appear so. Gone were those gangly limbs, replaced with muscle that had been defined by physical labor.

His hands, though. His hands had stayed the same. They’d always been big, but he’d grown into them. They suited him now. Strong and steady. Farmer’s hands.

“You want me to come get you when it’s time for orientation?” The low cadence of his voice jarred you from your daydream.

“If you would? I forgot to pack my battery alarm clock, so have no way of keeping time.”

He nodded. “Sure. I can get ya one of those clocks. I actually have two, you can have one of mine.”

“You sure?”

“Yep, I don’t need two anyway. I’ll bring it to you later tonight.”

You shot him a grateful smile. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

Together, you stopped just outside your cabin, lingering at the foot of the stairs. Bob’s face was gentle, his eyes kind. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here. I know it’s a for you lot to be back here. And Jake didn’t help anythin’ by reacting the way he did. But if no one else is happy to see you, I want you to know that I am. I’ll respect whatever decision you make, but I really do hope you’ll stay.”

You considered his words, mulling them over in your mind. He didn’t expect you to decide at that very moment, and you knew your brain was too overworked to make that decision then as it was. So, the best you could do was nod your head. “I’ll see you in a bit, Bobby.”

He hummed, mouth quirking into a smile. “See you in a bit, Kit.”

You watched him walk away, his footsteps sure, his stance confident. He had a swagger to him that he didn’t have six years ago. It suited him well.

With a soft sigh, you finally turned and made your way into the cabin. As soon as the screen slammed behind you, you surged forward, collapsing into your bed, which was right near the door. Immediately, you buried your face in the pillow, and everything you’d been keeping inside came spilling out of you in bitter waves.

What had you gotten yourself into?

to be continued...

taglist (tagging those who showed interest; if you want to be added let me know)

@withahappyrefrain @rhettabbotts @ryebecca @up-thereinthesky @oldfangirl30 @attapullman @sebsxphia @delopsia @damrlova @fairyheart @hangmanapologist @laracrofted @callsignspark @bobfloydsbabe @milesmillergf @bradshawsbitch @bradshawsbaby @floydsmuse @senawashere @creatchie8

#bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd smut #bob floyd angst #story: six summers

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