#but once I get used to my schedule again I’ll post more

[sp4c3-c0wb0y]

Look at your couch, it is homo-baroque! 🗣️ Don't talk to me about taste! 🗣️

[bookshelf-dust]

kiss it better

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3,176

warnings: swearing, sick fic (sorta), steve not taking care of himself, anxiety, stress, mental breakdown?, best friends to lovers deal (let me know if i missed something)

a/n: hi! it’s been awhile. i’m sorry about that. this has been a very slow process for me. my mental health is shit, and that’s probably obvious. i hope it hasn’t seeped into this too much, but it probably will with the next few things i write. i apologize for taking so long to post, for disappearing, for not really making this the blog it once was. but i’m not the same person i was then. so we’ll see where this goes. i hope you enjoy this one a little. i love you.

————

The shrill sound of a phone ringing scares you awake, eyes flying open, heart pounding so aggressively you fear for a split second that it might burst. 

You sit up quickly, enough so that you make yourself dizzy trying to get your bearings. You roll onto your side, and reach blindly across the edge of your nightstand, grabbing for the green plastic that’s shaking with the force of which it’s ringing. 

You almost fall out of bed, just managing to catch yourself as you bring the phone to your ear. 

“Hello?”

Your voice comes out weak, thick with sleep and the longing for more rest. It startles you and makes you clear your throat. 

“Hey, it’s me.”

The voice on the other line is even weaker than your own. It’s quiet.

“Steve?”

Your eyes find the alarm clock on your dresser, bright red letters telling you it’s just after one in the morning. You might be half-asleep, but you’re conscious enough that your heart rate picks up, registering that this isn’t when your best friend normally calls. 

You hear him breathe, along with some shuffling. He’s nodding his head, but realizes you can’t see. 

“Yeah. Listen,” he drags a shaking hand down his face. “I’m sorry to call so late.”

“Hey, it’s okay. What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”

He goes quiet for a moment, but you wait patiently for him to continue. He must be trying to get something out, and you don’t want to pressure him, or cause him stress in any way. 

Steve huffs, frustrated with himself. 

“I-I’ve got an insane headache, and we’re out of goddamn medicine. My parents were here, and my mom was hungover and I guess she must’ve emptied us out, but it hurts too bad to drive, and…” He trails off, breathing heavily. 

His pause lends you a moment to process, and you decide to speak up. If his head is killing him, you know finding the energy to speak to you, let alone call, has to be draining. You wouldn’t want him to suffer anymore than he already is. 

“Stevie?” you start, happy to hear a small hum that encourages you to go on. He registers what you’ve called him, something you don’t call him often, and his chest aches. “I’ve got some I can bring you. I think all the drugstores nearby are closed.” 

You swing your legs out from under the covers, pushing yourself off the mattress. Pressing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, you pull on the pair of sweats slung over the end of your bed, trying not to bust your ass as you hop into them. 

“Is anything else hurting you?” you ask, gently as can be. 

“Honestly?” he responds. “I think I’m sick. I can’t be sick, can I?”

You stand upright once again, taking the phone firmly in your hand. 

“I think even King Steve can get sick from time to time. I’ll be there soon, okay?”

————

Steve’s not sure you understand him. He can’t be sick. He’s got shit to do. He has a shift tomorrow, and he’s pretty sure Dustin needs a ride one day this week because Claudia is on a “girls trip.” He has to keep working on his college essay, because he’d told you he was almost done, but really he isn’t. 

Steve doesn’t have the time to be sick. And he can’t have you ruining your own schedule to come and babysit him. He’s supposed to be the babysitter. Not the charge. 

He should be able to take care of himself, but of course, the one time his parents come home they clean out his mediocre supply of medicine. Something he’s always stocked up on, given his tendency to get the shit beat out of him, or the nasty string of tension headaches that just won’t quit. 

And his head is killing him. He has his palms pressed to his temples, trying (and failing) to dull the ache. There aren’t any lights on in the kitchen, where he’s sitting on the floor, back pressed to the cabinets. 

He’s trying not to move too much either, because he’s dizzy. This probably has to do with the fact that he skipped dinner, feeling too nauseous to eat. Now that Steve is hungry, he fears he won’t be able to get up and fix anything. 

Maybe you’ll be able to help, he thinks. But that voice is quick with a counter argument. No. I need to do it. 

He perks up at the sound of the front door opening. “Steve?” you call out, careful not to slam the door or yell too loud. It’s also why you hadn’t rung the doorbell. 

Steve raps his knuckles softly against the countertop, hoping it’ll be enough to clue you in. He can’t bring himself to shout right now. You follow the sound, taking the few steps toward the kitchen. 

When your eyes lock on his figure, see the way the heels of his hands press into his eyes, you realize how young he looks. He almost looks small, legs pulled up to his chest, big, lanky body compacted as much as possible. He looks vulnerable. You’re sure he hates that. 

“Hi, Steve,” you say, keeping your voice low. 

He looks up at you, and his face splits into a sweet grin. He’s happy that you’re here, even if that voice is screaming at him, wanting to punish him for asking for help. 

“Hey, honey.” You smile back at him, and his heart rate picks up. Sometimes he forgets how beautiful you are, and then you’re standing in front of him, snatching every last breath from his lungs. 

You set your bag down beside him and reach out, brushing his hair back from his forehead. He feels a little warm, but not feverishly so. 

You move away from him, grabbing a cup from the drying rack. You fill it up with water and crouch at his side. Steve takes the glass from you, head resting against the cabinet to watch as you grab him some medicine. You hand him a few pills, and he takes them quickly. If he doesn’t get this headache calmed down soon, he thinks he might just die. 

Steve keeps drinking the water you gave him, and you push his hair back again, watching the way it curls around his ears. 

He drinks about half of the water before he pauses, taking a deep breath. He looks at you then. It’s mostly dark in the kitchen, but the lamp on the table by the front door is on, so you’re a little backlit from it. Not to mention the moonlight seeping in from the window above the sink.

You look gorgeous. And you came over to take care of him. You got up, at one in the morning, and drove to his house, just because he asked you to. Hell, he hadn’t even asked. He hadn’t gotten the words out. But you’d known. You’d known exactly what he was trying to ask, and you’d offered your help with no qualms. 

Steve’s nose starts to sting, and that pressure from behind his eyes—it starts to release. Before he knows it, his vision is getting cloudy, and he’s crying. He can’t be crying, can he? 

You carefully remove the glass from his hand and move in between his spread knees. 

“Steve, it’s okay. I’m here, and I’m gonna take top notch care of you.” 

“I know you are,” he says, voice breaking. “But I should be able to do it myself. I always do it myself.” He presses his hands against his face, but you catch his wrists and gently pull them away. 

You hold your arms out, and Steve practically falls into you. He buries his face in your neck. He can feel the warmth of your skin, the cotton of your sleep shirt. You smell like soap, that fancy conditioner you use. 

One of your hands finds the base of his neck, nails scratching gently over his scalp, thumb dragging over the top of his spine. Your other rubs soothingly up and down his back. 

“But the thing is, Stevie, you don’t have to.” 

He’s not a loud crier. But he is sort of panicky, breaths coming quick and short, chest heaving against your own. “I know you’ve always had to do a lot by yourself, but you can ask for help, and you don’t have to punish yourself for it, either.”

You feel him nod against your collarbone. His hands are fisting the back of your shirt. Eventually, he pulls away, but keeps his eyes closed. He tries to keep his head turned from your gaze. 

“Hey. Look at me.”

He does, albeit reluctantly. Steve’s cheeks are flushed, lashes clumped together and lips parted where he tries to suck in a good deep breath. 

You reach up, fingers gently sweeping away the remainder of the tears on his face. He leans into your touch, and you let him. You lean forward and press a sweet kiss to his forehead. You’ve never done that before.

Steve recognizes that you’ve never done it before, even if it’s sort of fuzzy. Sure, he’s kissed the back of your hand and you’ve reciprocated, but he’s usually the one to initiate physical affection. You’re too shy most often, even if you ache to do it. 

Fuck, he wishes he were a little more coherent right now. 

“Can you stand for me? It’s late, and I think you need to rest.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sure.” Now that he’s thinking about it, getting in bed sounds so nice. 

You stand first, and watch as Steve pushes off the floor, gripping the countertop on the way up to steady himself. 

“Come on. The stairs are gonna be a pain.”

He reaches out for you, and you let him take your arm. He pads out to the staircase, and you watch each precarious step he takes, hoping he won’t get too woozy and trip. 

By the time he finally makes it up there, he’s wrapped both arms around your waist and buried his face between your shoulder blades. You soften beneath his hold. 

You walk slowly towards his bedroom, and he waddles behind you. You push the door open. “M��kay, Steve. Wanna change clothes and hop into bed?” 

He pulls off of you and grabs hold of his dresser. “I’m not givin’ you a free show.”

You snort. “I’ll go get some more water and be right back.”

His grin fades. “Please be fast.” He doesn’t want you to go. He doesn’t want you to leave him. 

“Steve, I’m practically The Flash.”

He laughs, pulling a pair of sweats and a t-shirt out of the drawer. Usually he’d sleep in less, but with you here he feels he should keep his modesty.

When you return, he takes the water from you, drinking it faster than he probably should. Steve feels like he’s had the shit beat out of him, and for once—he hasn’t. 

You’d sat down on the edge of the bed, not noticing the way he’s staring at you. You look up when he sets the glass down. He drags both hands down his face. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He exhales. “I want you to stay here with me, but I don’t want you to get sick. The idea of you being on the couch, which is like, miles away, is driving me insane.”

“Steve?”

“Huh?”

“Can’t I just sleep on the futon?”

His eyes move towards the other side of his room where said piece of furniture is pressed against the wall. He’d bought it when group sleepovers became a thing after all they’d dealt with. Jesus, his brain really isn’t working. 

“Oh. Yeah, honey. Just don’t want you to go far.” 

You lean forward and push his hair back from his forehead. You’ll need to remember to take his temperature come morning.

“I’m not going anywhere, Steve. I promise. Not until you’re all better.”

————

When Steve wakes up, you’re not there. He starts to panic, thinking maybe he’d been too much, maybe he’d shown you a side of himself he shouldn’t have, that maybe you left. 

But you return to his room just as he’s about to start looking for you. There’s a thermometer in your hand. 

“Morning, sleepy boy. Are you coherent enough for me to check your temperature? Or no?”

He yanks the covers off of himself, and his shirt has ridden up. You catch a sliver of tummy before he sits up fully, and you miss it the second it’s gone. 

“Hit me, I can take it.”

You roll your eyes but stick the thermometer under his tongue when he opens his mouth. When you pull it away, you’re happy to see he hasn’t got a fever. He was warm last night when you kissed his forehead, but you’re thinking it was from stress or just overheating. 

“No fever. What’s buggin’ you today, Stevie?”

He flops onto his back, and his shirt rides up again. You mentally slap yourself for being so enamored by it. All your brain can compute is tummy. Steve’s tummy. “My head still, and my stomach. I feel like I haven’t slept in four years.”

His words snap you out of your reverie. “Four years? That’s incredible. When’s the last time you ate something?”

Steve stares at you for a moment, though it looks as if there isn’t a single thought behind his eyes. “Yesterday…morning. I think. Yeah, I had a banana.”

You stare back, rather appalled at his statement. “Steve.”

“Hm?”

“All you’ve had to eat in the past twenty four hours is a banana?”

“Yep.”

“Jesus christ. Get your ass up and come with me.”

Steve doesn’t move. Rather he watches you move, right out the door and towards the top of the stairs. You pause and turn around, crossing your arms. 

He huffs. And then he slides down the side of the bed like a child before crawling up and following you to the kitchen. 

Over the course of the next few hours, you manage to get Steve to eat, shower, and go for a short walk, weather permitting and all. He’s looking astronomically better than he did last night. 

Steve sits opposite you on the couch, his socked feet in your lap. “What do you think my deal is?”

You rub your hand over his calf. “I think you just had a little bug. Or maybe you let yourself get too stressed out and your body couldn’t take it.”

He blinks. “Is that…that's not a thing? Is it?”

“When’s the last time you gave yourself a fuckin’ break, Steve? When you just took a day for yourself rather than worrying about who needs to go where, or if you’ll have to cover a shift? You have to take care of yourself, or this is the kind of shit that happens.”

“Being overwhelmed about your parents, not eating, worrying about that application, all of that is fucking with you. That headache was probably a stress headache. They’re killer. I want you to be healthy and comfortable, Steve.”

You exhale, and close your eyes. When you open them, Steve has sat up, scooting towards you on your end of the couch. 

He might still be tired, but he can’t believe this. He can’t believe you. No one has ever worried for him in this way. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask. 

He barely even registers your words, too busy memorizing every line on your face. You look so fucking beautiful. It almost makes him angry. 

“I’m thinkin’ about how bad I want to kiss you.”

Your face starts to burn. You shove his shoulder. He looks at the place where you’d pushed, quirking a brow, but grinning nonetheless.

“What?”

“Steve, you can’t say shit like that.”

“How come?”

“Because we’re friends.”

“Best friends.”

“Well yeah, but best friends don’t say that to one another.”

His grin widens. He looks more awake than he has this entire time. 

“Oh, but you haven’t said it.”

You blink. “Huh?”

Steve gets his voice up that little bit higher, doing a cheap imitation of you. “‘Best friends don’t say that to one another.’ Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but that implies you want a kiss too, doesn’t it?”

You drag your hands down your face and flop back against the arm of the couch. 

“So you gonna say it, or what?” He’s shifted, and you can feel him hovering over you, but you refuse to move your hands. 

“Of course I’m thinking about kissing you, Steve.” You suck in a breath and open your eyes, locking with his own. “But you’ve got cooties.”

Steve rolls his eyes before he backs up and yanks on your ankle so that you’re flat against the couch. 

“You did not just lecture me about self-care just to tell me I have cooties. I didn’t even have a fever.” 

“I didn’t even have a fever,” you mock, lowering your voice in what is quite possibly the worst impression of him you could do.

He’s quick about it. Almost stealthy, not that you’d ever boost his ego by telling him so. But his fingers are reaching for your sides, the tips dancing over your shirt, that tiny sliver of hip showing where it’s ridden up. 

Steve is practically drunk off of your laugh. It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard, and when he goes for your neck, when you tilt your head and trap his fingers between your cheek and shoulder, he thinks he could die. 

You and your laugh. The fact that you drove over at one in the fucking morning, without even thinking about it, just because you care. That you stayed the night, listened to his pitiful thoughts, took care of him…it’s too much. 

Never in his life did he think he’d find someone like you. Someone who makes him feel like he matters. You’d made him realize how smart he is, how capable. That he could do things for himself and not just to please his dickhead father. 

You have made him whole. 

He lets up when you start breathing extra heavily, only to tickle the underside of your foot before he quits, just to piss you off. You kick him in the side. 

“I think a kiss from my very favorite person might be the best form of self-care there is, honey.”

You sit up. “Wow. King Steve really never died.” He raises his hands like he might tickle you again, but you catch them before he can do any damage. “Okay, sorry!” 

Before he can register it, you’ve leaned in and pressed your lips to his. When he does realize, he lets out a surprised hum, and you can feel that smartass smirk forming on his face. 

When you pull away, he whines. 

“All better?”

Steve falls back against the couch, pulling you with him just to get that laugh out of you again. 

“I’m healed.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

COUNTDOWN to Open Askbox Event: Requests will be Open on June 30, 2024

time for the countdown to the next openaskbox event!

Openaskbox streams are when i get to the bottom of my request inbox, during which the askbox will open for the first time in months and everyone gets a chance to yeet up to three free requests my way. there’s a few rules you gotta follow for your request to be considered, but I’ll post more about that on the day of. 

I will endeavour to write as many requests as I can during the event (which lasts between 6-8 hours) live on stream so people can hang out, chat, ask about calligraphy and the like whilst listening to some tunes. 

When stream time’s up, the askbox will close again and I’ll use the remaining hundreds of unanswered asks to fuel my regular 4 posts/day card posting schedule until the next time we run dry. 

To work around my work schedule it's gonna happen on a Sunday, so once again, see you on tumblr and on the twitch stream at

June 30, 2024, 2pm EST to 9/10pm EST

[sunny44]

I’ll love you to the day I die

Pairing: Lando Norris x Girlfriend!reader

Warnings: it’s a sad story guys so be prepared. And English is not my first language.

Summary: It’s yours and Landon’s one-year anniversary.

I look out over Monaco's stunning landscape as the sun slowly rises, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. The city, usually vibrant with the sound of engines and the glow of lights, is quiet this morning. I adjust my shirt collar and check my watch once more. The flight to London is scheduled to leave in a few hours, and I want to make sure I arrive on time for such an important date.

As I drive to the airport, my thoughts turn to Y/n. I remember how she always laughed at my jokes, how her eyes sparkled when I talked about racing, and how she supported me unconditionally in every challenge. Today, we would be celebrating one year together, and I want to do something special.

At the airport, I meet some fans asking for autographs and photos. I smile and answer them all, but my mind is far away, focused only on the surprise I'm preparing. The flight to London is smooth, and I spend most of the time mentally going over every detail of my plan. I want everything to be perfect.

When I land in London, I take a cab straight to the city center. The streets are busy, as always, but I don't pay any attention. My destination is clear and fixed in my mind. I get out of the cab and walk through the streets until I reach a small flower store. I choose a bouquet of white roses, Y/n's favorite flowers, and go on my way.

As I walk, I mentally revisit every moment I spent with Y/n. Every laugh, every kiss, every promise. Finally, I reach my destination. The entrance to the cemetery is sad and silent, a shocking contrast to the liveliness of the surrounding city.

With slow steps, I enter the cemetery, walking among the gravestones until I find Y/n's. My eyes fill with tears as I see her name engraved in the marble. I kneel down, placing the bouquet of white roses on the grave after cleaning it up with my hands.

"Happy one-year anniversary, my love," I whisper, my voice breaking. "I miss you so much. I promised I'd be here today, and I am. I wanted you to be with me so we could celebrate together. I love you so much."

I stay silent, just staring at something that still seems like a lie. Today was supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life, but it has become one of the worst. Five months ago, I wouldn't have thought I'd be coming to the cemetery to celebrate one year of dating the love of my life, but here I am.

"It's funny how I never thought that out of the two of us you'd be the one to passed away first, and considering what I do for a living it's ironically sad." I sniffle again and feel my heart break more and more.

"You have no idea how much I love you and how much I miss you. How I miss your wet towel on the bed, seeing you walking around the house in your bare feet and the post-it’s you used to put in my suitcase before I traveled to a race you weren't going to."

I stand there in silence for a long time, remembering all the precious moments I shared with Y/n. I think of the first time I saw her, the way our eyes met and I knew, in that instant, that she was going to be special.

I think of all the races where she was there, cheering me on, sending me strength and love. I remember the quiet days when we walked hand in hand through the streets of London, laughing and making plans for the future.

Even in her absence, I feel her presence, and that gives me the strength to carry on. I know that, somehow, she will always be with me, guiding me and loving me, no matter where I am.

And I feel that it’s so unfair that I could only have her in my life for such a short time, cause I know and I feel in my heart that we should’ve had more time together.

Finally, I stand up, wiping away the tears. I take one last look at Y/n's gravestone, promising to come back soon. With a heavy heart, but full of love, I leave the cemetery, determined to honor her memory in every race, in every victory, and in every day of my life.

As I walk back to the city, I think about how Y/n had changed my life. She taught me to cherish every moment, to live intensely and to love deeply. I know that, no matter how difficult it may be, I will continue to live for her, keeping alive the flame of the love we shared. And so, with Y/n's memory engraved in my heart, I prepare to face another day, knowing that she will always be by my side, in spirit.

Bonus Scene!

Landonorris instagram post

Liked by @carlossainz, @olivernorris, @maxverstappen1 and other 917291

@landonorris missing you extra hard today my love. These past few months have been the worst of my life and I still can’t believe that you’re gone.

I love you so much and I’ll make sure to live for the both of us.

Happy one-year anniversary muppet, you’ll be forever my girl 🖤.

@carlossainz I’m really sorry mate, we all miss her so much. Stay strong

@oscarpiastri sending you lots of love Lando

@maxverstappen she was a very special girl, we all will live for her

@charlesleclerc a very special person taken away from us so soon, we’re all here for you mate ❤️

Comments on this post have been limited

[acotarxreader]

Stress Relief

Azriel X Reader

Synopsis: Working for the Night Court has become near impossible with Azriel determined to drive you out the door but can a camping trip arranged by Rhys smooth things over.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut, frenemies to lovers, lots of dialogue, if you see a typo no you didn't

A/N: Hehe this kinda long but I wanted to keep the chaos to one part. I'm finding writing since Other Worlds a bit stressy so I think posting this nonsense will help with that and we can return to out regularly scheduled programming. Let me know what you think!

Requests open! (I am working on your Cass request if you see this anon👀 )

----------------------------------------------------------------

“YN you need to fucking relax”

“I suggest that you keep quiet Azriel if you'd like to keep your head attached to your shoulders” Azriel rolled his eyes at you from the couch as you paced up and down, trusty list in hand. 

“I’m just saying you’ll give yourself a heart attack”

“Hey! Do you want me to add your name to this list!”

“Az would only want to be on it if it's your To Do list” A pillow flew from alongside Azriel right at Cassian as he howled. 

“I’ll relax once we get there”

“Why do you get so fucking neurotic when it comes to travelling?”

“Why are you so fucking anno-”

“Okay okay stop it you too! We promised Feyre no fighting on Rhy’s big camping trip, she’s already upset Elain won’t come, just don’t add to her stress” You and Azriel groaned like scolded children at Cassian’s words. You counted the bags again, checking off your list as you went. Azriel stood to grab his bag, coming chest to chest with you before pushing past.

“I’m flying ahead because I can’t be around her uptight ass anymore”

“Aw you look at my ass” you smiled sarcastically as Cassian laughed in the background. 

-

You all finally arrived deep within the woods of the Night Court, luggage crashing down around the group. You couldn’t stop thinking that you had forgotten everything, glancing from the list to the pile repeatedly, your friends happily unpacking. The night had already begun to creep in, Azriel and you delaying the group by fighting about which was the fastest route to take. You busied yourself fixing up some of the tents as Azriel dug through the pile of bags in search of his own. 

“YN, what’s the plan for us sleeping together?”

“Excuse me?” you deadpaned to Azriel. 

“Sor-Sorry I meant the plan for sleeping?” he quickly corrected himself, his shadows doing their best to cover his rosie cheeks. 

“Well, Feyre & Rhysand, Cassian & Nesta, Amren & Mor and then I guess you and Lucien and then I get my own tent” you beamed, shaking a sleeping bag from its case. 

“Funny how that worked out isn't it” he remarked and you rolled your eyes but the group agreed to the sleeping arrangements, with further prodding for Lucien to agree. 

You gathered around the fire, feasting on the fire-roasted food Cassian did his best not to cremate, trading life stories in pure unadulterated ease, everything Rhysand had wanted for this trip. You swaddled yourself deeply into your sleeping bag as the fire began to sink beneath its tinder. 

“Do you regret leaving Summer Court for us YNN?” 

“I think I love the Night Court more than I ever could Summer” You smiled in reply to Cassian, your eyes flashing to Rhysand briefly before he launched into his favourite Tarquin story, Azriel noticing the fleeting glance seemingly tinged with an element of sadness. 

“You like it even though being an emissary to the Seasonal Courts clearly makes you want to pull your hair from your head?” Azriel whispered to you. 

“You and your antics are the only thing that causes me to do that, I seriously think you need a refresher training on diplomacy” you bit back to his sharp whisper. You had shared the job with Lucien but soon found yourself taking on the brunt of the work as Lucien was lost in Elain.

“You need to stop being so uptight seriously, I think you need to be fucked or something, anything to get you to relax” Your head whipped towards him, the group laughing at Rhysand's story, choosing to ignore the two of you, assuming it was an argument. You huffed out in disgust at Azriel, he watched your chest release the full capacity of air from your lungs before taking another deep breath. You shuffled slightly in the sheet, wrapping the sleeping bag tighter around yourself and facing back towards the fire. It was then Azriel realised he was fully staring at your chest. 

“I didn't…I didn't mean that I want to be the one to….fuck you…I meant …” 

“Just stop talking Az” you scoffed, choosing to listen to Rhysand instead as Azriel mentally cursed himself for losing his edge over you. The fire sank until it went out, the laughter from the group lighting the forest. 

“Okay, it's like 2am, time for bed kids especially if we’re going for the hike tomorrow” Rhysand stood, pulling a sleepy Feyre to her feet. The group said their good nights as you climbed into your canvas home. You stretched along the fabric floor and sank into sleep easily, tired from the day as you balled up in your opened-out sleeping bag. 

-

“Hey! YNN! Wake up!” 

“I swear to the Gods you better be a super polite Naga about to rip my head off otherwise you’ll wish you were” you breathed out without opening your eyes, the sound of your tent zip worse than a blaring alarm to your sleepy state. 

“It’s Az, I need to sleep in here, push over” he collapsed next to you without invitation, your hand sailing outwards to clock him flat into the chest with a thud. 

“Az, what the fuck? It's like 3am, get the fuck out we’re not braiding one another's hair!” you whisper-shouted at him while you sat up. 

“Lucien is snoring like he’s trying to deafen me and I don’t fancy interrupting Mor and Amrens beauty sleep and as for the mates, I don’t need to explain why I don’t want to go in there” you sighed at him as he gave you a look that said he wasn’t going anywhere. You sank back into the canvas, Azriel pulling the sleeping bag from you. 

“Az” you bit out. 

“I’m not going to freeze to death because you’re a blanket thief”

“You’re going to find yourself on the other side of the zip if you don’t go to sleep” you said, rolling into the slack of the sleeping bag, pulling it fully from Azriel. He almost grunted at the action, catching the end and whipping it from under you, sending you rolling into the wall of the tent. 

“Az!” you barked and he raised his hands up in surrender. You sank beneath the cover again, moving closer to Azriel to spread the sleeping bag more evenly. Azriels eyes fixed on the mesh vents on the tent roof, the sound of the night filling the tent.

“Do you ever think you’ll go back to the Summer Court?” Azriel broke the silence that filled the tent, you sighed before replying. 

“If you keep being a prick then maybe” you deflected the question successfully.

“I’m a prick because I care” You laughed at his joking tone, rolling to your side to face him more, hands tucked in under your cheek. 

“As much stress as you and Cass and your antics cause me, which is a lot might I add, I would find it very hard to leave you freaks” you half laughed, eyes still heavy. 

“We’d miss you” he admitted

“I mean who would keep your secrets from one another if not me” you teased. 

“What secrets?” you tapped the side of your nose lazily and Azriel nudged you slightly in annoyance at your grin. 

“Fine fine emmm.... Cass is the one who told all those females in the Rita's where to find you when you were home” you yawned into a light laugh. Azriel felt annoyance grow in him at this revelation, that had caused him months of being harassed by all sorts from every walk of life. 

“I swear I’m going t-”

“Just leave it Shadowsinger” you gave a small laugh, grabbing his hand as he went to leave the nest you’d both made, pulling him back down and forgetting to let go, you lost your fight to sleep then, entirely drifting back off. Azriel glanced at you sleeping peacefully next to him and found himself surprised at enjoying holding your hand beneath the sleeping bag. 

Azriel stayed awake for half an hour, staring up at the canvas above him, torn between the growing pain in his shoulder and not wanting to let go of your hand. The nerves felt like they were screaming as the muscles went dead in his arm, an idea coming to him. He quickly rolled towards you while releasing your hand and grabbing the other but he greatly misjudged the distance, sending his head straight into yours. You almost immediately dropped his hand to place it on the bump growing on your head, Azriel feeling regret for waking you but more so for letting you go. 

“You're such a freak Shadowsinger” You laughed half asleep before rolling in closer to him and draping your arm across his waist, pulling yourself closer to him softly, resting your head between the pillow and his chest. Azriel felt such an unfamiliar level of comfort at the movement but also a new level of confusion. 

You moved from next to him then, leaning on your elbow to prop yourself up and look at him as puzzled as he looked at you. 

“Sorry I-I don't know why I did that”

“Emm it’s okay YN…it was actually kinda comfortable…I’m ok-ay if you’re okay with it” he spoke the words with caution and you found a sigh of relief leave you that you didn’t know you had. You rolled away from Azriel to face the tent wall, his face slightly greying with nerves, had he been vulnerable to the wrong person? He braced for your rejection only for it not come, instead you shuffled slightly down and laid your back flat into his chest. Azriel cautiously moved his arm across your waist, only to have you catch hold of his hand and move it across faster, forgetting to release his hand again. 

Azriel nestled his chin on top of your head, pulling you in as close as he could as you both tangled your legs together. He felt so entirely comforted by how close you were to him…too close he thought suddenly. He shuffled in the bed a little to try to hide the part of him betraying any sense of secrecy he had about his changing feelings towards you. You just moved back to where you were, leaving him no place to hide. Azriel felt your whole body smirk against him as you traced little circles along the back of his hand with your thumb, he hated how you were winning. 

“You’re not hard for me to read Azriel” he definitely heard the smirk from you. He refused to let you win, he tried to push the embarrassment from his voice before speaking again-

“Well I hardly think that's surprising, I already told you what I think needs to happen for you to relax” he barely whispered, your body's turn to stiffen in the bed alongside him, he smiled with the point he won. 

Azriel slowly moved to hover his mouth above your neck, both so still in the movement that he could almost see the hairs on your neck stand on their end. He gave little thought to his next movement, now acting on his instinct as he met your neck almost painfully softly. He kissed you there until you found your neck flexing to allow him more access. A betraying soft moan of approval escaped you as Azriel smiled into the nips he gave you, gaining a further point advantage. 

You couldn’t let him hold the win for long as you began to push yourself into his growing length, a low growl escaping him before he reburied himself in your neck, more feverishly this time. Your hand wrapped tighter around his as you began to grind into him, encouraging him further. You rolled onto your back, Azriel now almost hovering over you and moved without thinking. He leaned down and met his lips with yours. Electric, you were electrifying one another. This night was going further than you both thought it would. Sex was one thing but kissing someone like that and feeling such overwhelming desire as a result was another thing. You both separated almost surprised at the waves of confusion mixed with yearning. 

“I-I didn’t mean to… I shouldn’t have…” Azriel didn’t know what he was saying, almost begging you with his eyes to say anything. 

“I-” you were cut off by the sound of Lucien's loud sneeze from across the fire pit causing you both to almost jump. It hit you both then what you were about to do, with all your friends mere metres away. 

“Night Azriel” was all you found yourself saying before rolling back to face the wall of the tent, not taking his arm with you. Azriel cursed in his head before lying back down on the canvas. He didn’t sleep for the rest of the night, the thought of what could have been controlling his thoughts. He didn’t think you were asleep either but didn’t challenge you on it, what had you both done?

-

You rolled over to find the space next to you empty as the sun leaked in the thin canvas the next morning. You ran your hands down your face, cursing your actions from the night previous. You got dressed haphazardly, removing a mirror from your pack to braid your hair back, your eyes falling on deep maroon markings on the side of your neck. You traced them gently with your fingertips, a small smile escaping you at the memory. 

“YN! Get up! We’re leaving in 10” Cassian's voice accompanied him banging on the top of your tent, chasing your smile away. You ran your hands through the loose braid, separating it out again to cover the evidence of your lapse in judgment. 

You hauled yourself out through the soft door once you were dressed to find your friends all laughing at one of Cassian's stories, ready and waiting for you to set off. Your eyes landed on Azriel as he tilted his head back laughing before his eyes met yours, he almost instantly tore them from you and looked back to Cassian. 

-

The group set off bounding along the mountain in total ease, Nesta winding Rhysand up ahead of you and Cassian. 

“So YN…you gonna tell me why Az won’t look at you?” 

“How am I supposed to read that pain in the ass’s mind?” you replied almost too quickly to him as he raised an eyebrow, catching your hand and helping you up a steeper part of the path. You looked at the back of Azriel’s head ahead of you as he lead the group along the path to the waterfall. 

“Hmm likely story YN and tell me why I could have sworn I heard Az leave your tent this morning?” he couldn’t bury the teasing tone as you sighed. 

“Lucien was snoring so Azriel just stayed in my tent, no big deal” You could see the thoughts race through Cassian’s grinning face, you tilted your head slightly forward, ensuring the truth was still covered by your hair. 

“Interesting, I don’t know Lucien to be a snorer” He gave a small laugh as you raised your eyebrow, only getting a playful shake of the Illyrian's head in return. A sudden slap of mud met the side of Cassian's face. 

“That’s for Rita’s!“ Azriel shouted back the path, his hand having just released the ball of mud. 

“You told him YN!” Cassian’s head snapped to you as you howled with laughter.

“Must have slipped out?” you tried your best to lie, only to have the broad male throw you over his shoulder as you screamed in hysterics. He ran with you, the group all roaring laughing as they followed. You suddenly couldn’t feel Cassian under you as he flung you from his arms, landing with a splash into the large lake. 

“Cassian! I’m going to kill you!” you shrieked, the cold water bursting through you sending power coursing. You sent a tendril of water, playfully pulling Cassian from where he stood straight into the water alongside you, the group following suit in fits of laughter, leaving Azriel to watch from the rocks. Azriels eye caught the slight glimpse of his handiwork beneath your soaked hair, a pang of pride beating through him then replaced by panic. A shadow met the side of your face, draping your hair back to cover the markings. You looked towards Azriel and found yourself laughing at the action, he returned a smile. 

-

After a day of hiking and swimming and being a bunch of fools, you all came back to the campsite ready to feast on whatever you could scrounge up. 

“Okay everyone, it’s time to announce the reason behind this little trip” Rhysand announced to his family gathered around the roaring fire. 

“Well, as you know, YN has been with us now for some months now-”

“Unfortunately” you hit Azriel into the chest at his sarcasm.

“Anyways-” Rhysand threw a warning glance “-YN has helped to negotiate many our trade agreements and cleaned up many of our messes-” Cassian raised a glass to you at Rhysands words, the group laughing “-But anyway, I’m sorry to announce that I have failed as your High Lord in convincing her to stay with us” the group turned to face you in almost shock. 

“I know everyone I said-”

“-You said you wouldn’t leave” Azriel cut across you, semblances of pain dripping from his quick words. 

“I know Az but-”

“-No, you said you wouldn’t leave” his words turned to tones of anger, the group looking amongst themselves, feeling as though they were intruding. 

“Yes but Az, I’m needed at home, they’re still recovering from Amarantha and Tarquin needs m-”

“-But I- I mean we need you!” He stood from the log to look down at you, your sad eyes meeting his. Suddenly aware of the scene he was making he dissolved into shadow as you tried to call after him. 

“I better go-”

“No Cass, I'll go” you winnowed out of the clearing. 

-

Azriel crashed into his room in the House of Wind. Mixtures of emotions spinning in his head like the shadows around his heels. 

“Az” he whipped around to see you stood with your hands up chest level in surrender. 

“Here to pack your bags?” he chewed out. 

“Oh fuck off Azriel, don’t actually pretend you want me to stay” you matched his tone. 

“And why do you say that?” he snapped back.

“Because you’re the reason I’m leaving!” he took a small step back in shock at your sharp admission. He sat down on the edge of his bed, brow furrowing in thought. 

“What have I done to you?”

“What haven’t you done!? You go out of your way to make my job difficult, every motion I put forward you try to shoot down, you’re constantly following me watching every move I make waiting me to fuck up! Now you have what you want, I’m leaving!” you paced up and down in front of him, releasing the tension you held in your shoulders. 

“I don’t want you to leave” he sounded almost offended that you thought so. 

“What?”

“You really think I want you to leave…especially after last night” he stood from the bed, stepping in front of you to stop your pacing.

“I thought that especially after last night you’d want me to leave” You half laughed.

“At least I guess I’ve given you something to remind you of me” he gave the smallest smile, his hand sweeping your hair off your shoulder to look at his busy work as you felt yourself blush.

“Don’t leave YN, who would I play with?”

“Cass maybe” you grinned, something seemingly darkening in his eyes. 

“I don’t want to fuck him” he breathed out.

“That’s not what Rhys told me” You laughed again before noticing his serious eyes. 

“Please don’t leave me YN”

“And what will I tell Tarquin?” you chuckled, unsure what to do with Azriels edgy tone. His hand found yours, hazel eyes fixated on you.

"Tell him you're preoccupied" "With what exactly" he moved closer to you with your words ever so slightly rattling out of you.

“Az if we kiss…this might become more than what either of us wants”

"What if its what we both want?" he was mere millimetres from you now, unable to fight against this magnetic force pulling you forward. Something bubbling between you both, the electricity coursing through the space between you both again as you kissed so sweetly. Your eyes snapped open to find his eyes meeting yours, gently pulling back from one another. Mate. Mate. Mate.

“YN- you’re my-”

“-Mate” you breathed while looking at him with such unadulterated love. Azriel burst into laughter with you following suit.

“Now you really can’t leave me”

“How convenient” you smiled, running your hands through your hair, Azriel tracing the bitemark's outline with his heated gaze.

“Care for some stress relief YN?” Azriels hands went straight for your hips, the feeling of the small calluses meeting your soft sides sent pulses down you both. He met your neck, the same place he had last night, cupping his hands beneath your lower legs and lifting you from the ground, your legs wrapped around his waist

“Why can't I keep away from you?” You breathed, the hairs on Azriel’s neck standing on their end.

“Why does that make me so happy?” Was all he could manage before reconnecting to your neck. Azriel carried you to the bed before throwing you down and closely following in pursuit. You knotted your fingers through his hair and forced down the moan trying to escape at the pleasure of having him nip you. You tugged his hair until he pulled from you to face you.

“I want all of you”

Azriel cautiously lowered his mouth to yours until they met again. Much like the first time electricity coursed through both of you but unlike the last time, neither pulled away, only growing hungrier.

You could feel him hardening against your thigh, no longer able to fight the little victory you were going to give him, you moaned gently. He smirked hard into the kiss before it became more feverish. Your hand ran across him beneath the fabric of his trousers, his turn to groan.

“You're wearing too many clothes” he rasped as you smirked and pulled your shirt from over your head, he gently caught your jaw as he kissed along it. 

“I want revenge for these” you smirked, wrapping your leg into his side to flip him so you straddled him on top. Your teeth grazed his neck with heat as he sat up in the bed with you on his lap. He pulled his shirt from over his head, his hands replacing on your hips to support you, his groaning encouraging you on.

“Enough teasing YN, I need you” he said darkly, flipping you onto your back and yanking your trousers free from your legs to discard them. Azriel kissed you sweetly before moving down the shape of your body, peppering kisses along the trail to your entrance. You felt your legs begin to tremble under his touch, begging for more as his fingers began to play with your clit, your hands tangling in his hair with a moan. 

“You’re so ready for me YN, its intoxicating” he began to kiss around you and slowly his fingers began to move in and out while he sucked your clit. You felt the tension build in your abdomen, the greatest realess you ever had just a few movements away until he stopped entirely. You looked down between your legs to meet his eyes as he moved to hover above you again, discarding his own trousers in the process. 

“You’re so beautiful YNN” Your hand met the side of his face softly before pulling him back down into a searing kiss. Your fingers began to drag up and down his bear back before tracing the spines of his wings as they began to splay in their relaxed state. 

“Is that okay Azriel?” you whispered watching his eyes close with the building pleasure. 

“Nothing has ever been more okay” he leaned his head towards your hand, taking the waves of pleasure in his stride before lowering back down to meet you sweetly. 

Azriel slowly then began to enter you, you both almost meeting your release at the feeling. He slowly began to drag in and out as the sensation grew with its addictive nature, he increased his speed, spurred on by your hitching breath. The pressure growing and growing and growing, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your back arched until the band snapped sending you into overdrive as every nerve in your body stood to attention and then exploded. You practically screamed his name sending him over the edge, returning the sentiment by moaning your name, collapsing next to you while riding out his high. 

“I had no idea how much I needed to hear you say my name like that YN” Azriel finally found some composure to rasp out, his arm wrapping around you, pulling you in. You tried not to cringe in embarrassment as you buried a laugh into his chest. 

“Don’t go shy on me now” he laughed, kissing the top of your head. You rolled onto your elbows to look into his eyes as they lit up for you. You hauled the duvet up around you, leaving a small corner for Azriel to tug at.

“Why must I be mated to a blanket thief?”

“Why must I be mated to a pain in the ass?”

-------------------------------------------------

Whatcha think friends!

[nihilistem]

adhd study tips.

by a stem student with adhd.

disclaimer!!! I’m by no means an expert in mental health or adhd but I do happen to have it. My intention with this post is to help others with adhd get more comfortable with studying so the process will be smoother for them!! At the end of the day, despite having the same disorder our brains will still work differently so do keep in mind that these may or may not help you, but are something you can try out if you’re stuck on not being able to study efficiently.

here’s some adhd study affirmations + tips on straying from discouragement if you’re experiencing burnout.

(And here’s part 2 of adhd study tips.)

I’ll start this off by listing more commonly known study tips that also work well with adhd.

change up your environment every now and then. we seek novelty even more than neurotypical people already do so switching it up will definitely help in our studies, especially if the place is well lit!

try some questions of the topic you’re trying to learn even when you know nothing about it. both neurotypical and neurodivergent brains are hardwired to remember things when we are proven wrong, and this is a great way of utilizing this neurological response!

take walks, exercise or stretch during your breaks. this tip is very effective at satiating our hyperactivity and also keeps us energized throughout our study session.

keep a notebook for your brain dump / ideas. we always either think of really stupid things or the most brilliant ideas in the middle of our study sessions and it almost always leads to distraction, but writing it down somewhere lets your brain know that the idea isn’t going anywhere and you can continue studying.

now, onto the tips that have personally helped with my adhd (and I haven’t seen many others talk about.)

alternate between various study plans, routines, schedules and techniques and always be open to finding more of them. majority of the time people always say ‘have a routine that works for you and stick with it’ but our adhd brains get bored very quickly, especially when it comes to repeated routines and schedules. I personally never stick to the same routine or plan more than three days in a row and sometimes I even make a plan on the spot and I’ve been more productive doing that than when I had only one or two study routines to switch between.

do not time yourself at the very beginning. Instead, focus on something in your studies you’re interested in and start there. what do I mean by this? well, since starting is always the hardest, when we begin our very first pomodoro we might find ourselves spending the first 25 minutes zoning out on a textbook just to get that ‘study time’ in even though you didn’t actually learn or recall anything. So to combat this, begin with something you’re genuinely curious about, or ask a question you can’t help but wonder the answer to. Once you find the answer, you might find you’re more in the zone and can continue from there. If not, take a short break and begin the pomodoros afterwards.

if you’re zoning out while reading up on a topic, try walking around while reading, looking at different sources on it or do some questions on that topic. again, novelty always gets us every time. sometimes the problem may be that the explanation in front of you isn’t making sense in your head and other sources may phrase things in a way that is better for your understanding. perhaps the problem is that you’re staying too still and you need to satisfy the hyperactive part of your adhd. or maybe your brain subconsciously believes that they already know what needs to be known about this topic, and there’s no better way to test that by trying out some questions on it.

switch between lyrical and non-lyrical music playlists, but make sure the lyrical music inspires you to excel. this definitely won’t apply to a lot of people but I found that when I constantly listened to piano, lo-fi or just non-lyrical music while studying in general, it actually promoted my likelihood of zoning out. but recently I found a playlist I deeply resonated with that was related to my studies called, ‘pov : a try-hard mid student who wants to ace everything’ and because I related very deeply with both the title and the lyrics of the songs, I was actively being encouraged to study as I was studying. but I also recognize when I really need to think in certain areas and that’s when I switch back to the non-lyrical music.

this is all I have as of right now but please do lmk if you guys want more of these!! I really wanna help out as much people as possible because my studies suffered greatly due to both my adhd and my late diagnosis of it and I’d love to help out others going through something similar.

[sierrale8ne]

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER FOUR

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @rosemariiaa @patscorner @makethemhoesmad @wbbgetsmewetter @authentic-girl03 @ohbueckers

kalena speakss 🪽! i had no clue what to write for this chapter but i scrapped something together and here it is! pls know this was supposed to be out like two hours ago but most of it got deleted and i had to rewrite it, so ignore any typos for the moment, ill fix em eventually 😭

May 2025 — Los Angeles, California

My leg bounces anxiously in the passenger seat of Julian’s car. The vehicle is silent, oddly enough, a complete 180 turn from the atmosphere of the last few days.

Things were really good. Julian and I were getting along better than ever, date nights and sleepovers. Up until we were arguing again. About schedules, staying out late, and of course the biggest disagreement in our relationship; the public.

We stayed up through all the hours of the night last night yelling at each other because I didn’t post about our date on my story; which I thought was childish but Julian evidently thought it was very serious.

Maybe I was wrong.

Maybe it was a big deal. Even when I thought about it from his perspective, I would probably be upset too. But the issue was we’ve talked about this before, countless times.

I sat looking out the window, an air-pod in my right ear that softly played music to keep my head clear. Briefly interrupted by my text tone going off.

Marayeeeee

Paige. Obviously. She’s been the most consistent number in my phone since the dinner party a while back.

don’t ask me for more banana pudding please

You trippin 😭😭

Wanted to see if you were busy, I miss you

“Who’s that?” Julian asks me.

“Just Paige.” I responded, my eyes only briefly looking up from my phone to look at him. It didn’t take a genius to notice how his demeanor changed. The slight roll of his eyes, and the shift in his seat.

“You guys have been talking a lot lately, no?”

He would be right. Aside from the texting throughout all hours of the day, we’ve gone out for lunch a few times over the last couple weeks. She was good company, and very easy to get comfortable around.

“Yeah, something like that.”

i’m actually heading to the airport rn…

Oh

Where to?

dallas! i have a few shows in texas and atl

but i’ll be back next weekend since you miss me so bad ;)

She doesn’t respond right away and I take that as the opportunity to shut my phone off and stick it into my pocket.

Julian lets out a long sigh as his hand runs over his face. “You know we still have to talk about last night, right?”

“What is there to talk about if we’re just gonna keep disagreeing?” I ask softly, trying to avoid raising my voice and starting yet another argument.

“You want me to stop bringing it up? Fine. But don’t get mad when I don’t put up with it anymore.”

The LAX drop off comes into my view and I turn my head to avoid looking at him once more. I don’t miss the lump that sits in my throat, or the tears that sting my eyes. I’ve never considered myself emotional, normally just keeping how I felt to myself or writing it in music, but that one stung.

“Okay Ju.” I shake my head, unbuckling my seatbelt when the car comes to a stop. “That’s fine.” I comment before stepping out of the car. Even after all that, he still hops out to help me get my bags, and I know he’s upset with me and I’m just as upset with him but the way he hugs me and kisses my forehead nearly makes me forget about it.

Nearly.

Because even then, I’m thinking about how his arms don’t feel like they used to. And after a few seconds the kiss that is lingering on my forehead just feels like slobber that I can’t wait to wipe off.

—

May 2025 — Las Vegas, Nevada

I sit comfortably on my hotel bed, a game playing as background noise in front of me and film on my iPad. We play the Aces tomorrow on prime time television and though I should probably be getting some rest, there’s only one person that could possibly be keeping me up at midnight before game day.

Maraye. Obviously.

I can see every bit of her from the phone screen. She’s laying on her bed quite literally giving me a show of her entire upper body. She has on a gray tank top, and I have to remind myself to look up at her face rather than the way her tits sit in that top.

“Paige?”

“Yeah, sorry. What did you say?”

“I said shouldn’t you be watching film instead of me?” She joked. I turned my head before she could get a look of the flush of my face.

“Yes, actually, but you wanted to talk about um, what’s his name again?”

“Julian?”

“Yeah him, and I’m trying to be a good friend.” I shrugged. “What was the issue again?”

Maraye sulks on the other line, shaking her head before speaking. “It’s like we always argue about the same shit. I don’t have the energy to put up with it anymore.”

I’m probably the world’s biggest asshole for giving her relationship advice while wanting her in my bed right now, but oddly enough there isn’t a bone in my body that cares.

“Don’t y’think you should tell him that? That it’s tiring or something?” I suggest. My head leans to the side to get a better look at her and it’s so hard to stay focused on the topic at hand when she’s looking the way she does right now.

Maraye’s skin is glass. I swear if I were to look hard enough I would see my reflection in it. There’s a few freckles that sit on her skin that I can’t just barely see in the light. She has on her reading glasses, wide round frames that complement her brown skin and brown eyes beautifully.

“I tried! But then it makes me look like the bad guy, and I don’t wanna seem like an asshole.”

“How would you be the bad guy for saying how you feel? It’s not that hard, I mean you’re doing it with me right now.”

She laughs at this. “That’s not the same.”

“Yeah? How?”

There’s a silence on the other end, and I notice the way she breaks eye contact with me. Her head turning away from the phone screen and instead looking up somewhere else in the room.

She’s right, it’s not the same. I’m not the one she goes home too, or will introduce to her family, no matter how often I daydream that I am. Nevertheless, still I convince myself that it is.

“We’ve been friends as long as you guys been together, and you can tell me everything, right? Why not him?” I ask. My eyes trail away from the phone screen and over to my iPad to make the silence a bit more comfortable.

“You’re just easier to talk to, Paige. I don’t know.” Her voice trails off at the end of her sentence. “I’m just being dramatic, it’s fine.”

Now in the last two-ish weeks that I’ve been blessed with the pleasure to call Maraye my friend, I’ve picked up on quite a few habits of hers. One of which, being her ability to toss her feelings to the side as if they don’t matter. There’s probably nothing I hate more than that.

“No you’re not.” I sigh, looking back at her. “I’m sorry, but if he’s gonna be mad about how you react to how he’s made you feel instead of fixing it, then he ain’t the one for you, angel. You should find someone who is.”

—

June 2025 — Atlanta, Georgia

Paige’s words have hung over my head like a cloud over the last week.

I’ve made a great handful of friends since leaving Atlanta for LA, all of which I’d like to think have made huge impacts in my life, but none of which even compare to my friendship with Paige.

She’s amazing. Not a flaw in her Godsend personality. And not just in the building-a-grocery-store-in-her-hometown kinda way, but in literally every way imaginable. I laugh harder around her, she gives me amazing advice, and we just clicked almost instantly. It was so, different?

That’s probably the best word, different.

At first I thought it was admiration. I was a fan of hers and as such I felt a certain way about being friends with her. It felt good.

In reality, my idea couldn’t possibly be more far fetched.

I’ve never once questioned my sexuality. For me, my “normal” has just always been guys. There was never a girl friend of mine that made me feel a certain way, or a girl crush that was anything more than a brief fixation. So believe me when I say that how I feel about Paige— when she texts me, or calls to say she misses me, and especially when she calls me angel— that is far from my normal.

It all happened too fast, too much for me to process. I thought my connection with Julian was quick, I mean after a week I was all about him. But me and Paige? We clicked off of one conversation, maybe even the second she fell into my lap at the game. I have no idea how to feel about that.

So as a result, I haven’t spoken to her since that night in Dallas. It thought it would be simple, since it gave me the opportunity to focus on my shows and my career. Yet, all it has me doing is fucking missing her.

I’m seated on the couch in my dressing room backstage before my show in Atlanta. My thumb is hovering over the girl’s contact. Her contact photo stares back at me dangerously. It’s a photo of the two of us from Cameron’s dinner party, Paige’s nose is scrunched as she throws up a peace sign and I’m showing all 32 while throwing up one of my own.

I’m about to press the contact. I don’t know much but I assume she doesn’t have a game tonight, and all I want before going on stage is to hear her voice as she talks about literally anything.

I don’t care about how wrong it feels to be thinking about her in this way, or the fact that I should probably be on stage in less than 10 minutes. All I’m thinking about is Paige.

So yeah, I’m about to click on the dial button when the janky silver door knob twists open. I catch a peak at some royal blue flowers before all 6 feet and 3 inches of Julian steps through the door. My face doesn’t even try to mask its shock.

He looks handsome in his outfit. He always does. A white shirt with a black zip up hoodie along with jean shorts and a pair of Timbs. He’s gotten a haircut, I can tell from how clean his lineup is. His natural curls are pulled into cornrows down the back of his head.

It’s my first time seeing his face in a few days and in person since our awkward goodbye at LAX last week. Oh yeah, I haven’t spoken to him very much this past week either. Oddly enough, it was easier to do than with Paige.

When he steps closer, Julian hands me the flowers first before sitting next to me on the couch.

“What’re you doin’ here?” I ask incredulously. He pulls me into a hug from where we sit on the couch, cologne travels through the air and up into my nose. Dior Sauvage, I could point it out anywhere.

“I haven’t seen you in a minute.” Julian says. He leans into me and our lips connect softly, much different to the manner we’ve been treating one another with over the last couple weeks. Even then I don’t hesitate when I kiss him back. His lips feel so familiar, and they are because I haven’t felt them in quite some time. “Thought I should surprise you.” He mutters against my lips.

I pull away haphazardly, his eyes stare back into mine. Only this time it’s not as familiar, namely the fact that they aren’t big blue orbs that I swear dilate ever so slightly when they look at mine.

My feet lift me off the couch and over to the vanity. I place the flowers he gave me, roses, on the surface. “Sure did surprise me.” I joke. When I turn back around, with my hands pressed to the vanity chair behind me, Julian is manspreading slightly, the look on his face one that I call suggestive. “I have to be on stage in like… seven minutes.” I announce awkwardly with a glance to the gold watch on my wrist.

“So?”

“So, you have to get outta here and I have to finish up sound stuff.” I explain. My fingers fix the smeared lip gloss on my chin while I look down at him.

Julian stands up and approaches me, it’s times like this where I forget how tall he actually is. And the shoes on his feet give him another inch or two.

“What’s up wit’ you, babe? If you don’t want me here, I can go back to LA.” I don’t like the tone in his voice, mainly because it’s pointed as if he wants to say something to me but knows that it would upset me.

“What? No, I literally have to be on stage. You know how Kaylee gets.” I tell him. My hand reaches up for his tanned cheek and he doesn’t fight me off. I hear my phone ring in on the couch, but I can’t take it on stage with me so ignore it. It’s probably Kaylee cursing me out for being late.

Julian presses a kiss to my palm and I internally shudder. “You sure?” Just like that his tone is different. It’s the soft and deeper baritone that made me fall for him in the first place, not the aggressive accusatory voice I’ve become used to.

I nod. My mouth opens up to speak when I’m cut off by multiple bangs on the door before it swings open.

“Julian, I told you to wait until after the show. Raye we gotta go, now!” It’s Kaylee, as it always is. She reaches for my arm, which is bare due to my stylist's decision to fit me in a strapless top for tonight’s show. “You give me gray hairs, I swear.” She mumbles as she pulls me away from Julian.

In my head I’m silently thanking her for what I think was either Julian trying to have sex with me or him trying to start an argument about me not wanting to have sex with him. Either way I’m thankful.

As we leave, I hear my phone ring again from the couch. Julian reaches for it, and just before the door shuts I see him press a button and toss it back onto the couch.

It shouldn’t bother me because I have bigger priorities, namely the crowd of 10,000 people who paid money for this show. But still, it plays in the back of my mind while Kaylee scolds me and my sound manager fits the earpiece to my ear and puts the microphone in my hand.

[charmercharm3r]

Make Love, Not Porn

Play Time!

HHJ

Masterlist, Series Masterlist

18+ content — minors, do not interact.

wc: 3.8k

Synopsis: You crave a life of normalcy, he craves you. And he'd do anything to keep you, even if you're for the world to see.

warnings: barista!hyunjin x cam girl!reader, smut, explicit sexual content, masturbation (m, f), he's a little obsessed, easing into the smuttier smut if that's even a thing.

Live : Play Time!

Next Scheduled Broadcast : Heat Signature

☆ﾟ

Rule number one; everybody is temporary.

There is no love in this industry, no trust, no friends, only coworkers that all want the same thing. Sometimes you work with them more than once, other times– most times, it’s a one-and-done deal.

They never want to stay anyways, you learned that lesson the hard way. It’s why you set up such a tough wall to break through, there’s no point in befriending anyone on your side of the pond.

It’s scary, really, how quickly you can be moaning someone’s name, kissing them like you need them to breathe, touching and feeling them as intimately as someone who truly was in love. Then as soon as the livestream ends, you can’t remember what their lips feel like and everything smells like latex and sweat. You offer them some water, snacks, a shower. They usually decline. Minutes later, your front door is shutting and you’re alone once again.

No one ever intends on getting into porn, you don’t even remember the details on how you ended up here. Your follower count had risen overnight and before you knew it, that one video had gotten you more money in a week than a month’s worth of minimum wage ever did. The humiliation was nonexistent considering you hadn’t even posted yourself naked that first time, if anything you were excited to post again. Who knew a video of you just sitting in a chair, playing with yourself under your skirt with your knees pressed closed would take off so rapidly. That thirty second video changed your life.

– fuck, who is this?? are they new??

– thats so hot. face reveal?

– show us your tits

– god i wanna fuck u so bad

– suck my dick pls

Those comments didn’t bother you, it was a little flattering if you were being honest with yourself. People wanted you, they don’t even know your real name, have never seen your face or what you look like in the sunlight. They don’t know you and yet, you’re everything to them, so much so that they pay you for your time, and body. They fill your wallet just for you to read their comment out loud, attention whores for you. And you love it. For some reason, their praise is much more fulfilling than anyone you've guested on your livestreams.

Recently, though, you’ve stopped bringing people on, not much to your viewer’s disapproval. There was more interaction and less vulgarity, like they wanted you to actually speak to them rather than just stuff your pussy with whatever new dildo you’d been gifted in your PO box.

You hadn’t planned on having such a personal stream today, you honestly just wanted the relief and thought your viewers would have a good time. But for some reason, the comments were less about getting you to take your clothes off and more about why your voice was shaking.

“It’s okay, I’m okay. Really!” Even you could hear the subtle octave change. “If you wanted me to cry, you could’ve just said please. You know I’ll do anything for you.” 

Perhaps the forced sultriness of your voice worked its charm, the comments quickly switched back to their normal obscenities once you started to unbutton your top. Truthfully, you preferred when they asked you to get naked, it was a lot easier to do than to admit what it was you were really lacking. Honest companionship is the rarest thing.

Rule number two: no identifying features.

Even if you weren’t ashamed, your job is still taboo. No one and everyone knew what it was you did. Your best friend helped you pick lingerie and background mood lighting, your parents thought you were an office worker. Strangers have seen your most private parts, you only allow your grandma to give you a kiss on the cheek during Christmas. Safe to say your occupation was strictly need-to-know.

You’re glad you started live streaming before deciding to get any tattoos, running the risk of someone stopping you in the middle of the street was the most terrifying thing you could imagine happening. Naturally, you avoided getting anything at all once your streams started to really take off.

There was nothing you wore to accessorize unless a patron paid for it in advance, that was always done a week before streams and the contact with the patron was never more than a simple google form and an email from your business account to confirm. Other than that, you were a blank canvas, just a body with a voice that left more to the imagination than you would think. If your viewers were happy, you were happy.

“What do you think of my new nail color? A special someone picked it out for me,” you held out your hands to display the pretty shine, twiddling your fingers. The comments went crazy, “no, no, not anyone like that, c’mon! You know you’re my number one. But I think you should all give lovely user callingherdaddy a thank you for picking it out. Thank you, sir.”

You took the polish off the next morning.

Rule number three: be consistent.

Nothing kills a steady income more than ghosting the ones that put the money in your pocket. You stuck to a strict schedule of three streams every week and frequent posts on your socials. The stuff you posted on your social media wasn’t even related to your work on camming, but it doesn’t hurt when they leave a couple nice comments. 

With a schedule and job like yours, you need a little bit of normalcy. Self employed, you don’t have a real routine when you aren’t streaming. It was starting to make you feel lazy, a bit lethargic, and overall unmotivated.

It wasn’t until recently did you decide to start doing normal people things, like waking up at 7 a.m., doing a mini work out, grocery shopping in the morning, even getting yourself a coffee from the shop near your house as a treat. Doing this was nice, you felt good, your head was clearer. Hell, you even got excited when it came time to do your cams because you felt so full of energy.

You had only been to the coffee shop once or twice before, but to get yourself to keep the routine, you told yourself you’d go every day for the next two weeks. Afterall, it only takes 21 days to form a habit.

It was packed, as usual for a morning weekday. There were only about six baristas working, all scurrying about the bar to get through the morning rush. You liked watching them, mindlessly completing drinks in such a way that made you a little jealous. Most of them seemed your age, obviously you knew that they couldn’t have all had perfect lives, but at least this part of their day was something they could openly complain about.

Were you really jealous? Of normal people? You had to be insane.

Shaking your head, you walked further into the shop and waited in line. You thought nothing of it, placing your order, “iced chai with three blonde shots, please,” and handed the barista the card, “thank you.”

You barely looked up at him, only when he held onto your card a little longer as you tried to take it back did you make eye contact. A little awkward, the barista was staring at you with wide eyes. He was handsome, too handsome to be working behind the counter. Long black hair framed his face nicely, pretty plump lips, and an endearing little mole under his eye that made his siren stare only slightly less intimidating. Yeah, handsome.

He didn’t look away even after he let you take your card back.

“S– sorry. You look like–”

“It’s okay. Thanks again.” You hurried away as fast as you could. He couldn’t have known who you were, right? Not a chance, you have never shown your face. You were wearing too many clothes for any particular body part to be recognizable. It’s just a coincidence.

Either way, the minor interaction with the barista scared you into hiding again, forgetting going out for anything else you had planned and deciding to hole away at home.

You had a livestream to do later anyways, focus on that. There were a few hours left for you to kill before turning on the camera, now would be as good a time as any to set up.

It wasn’t much that you did, mostly just thinking of what it was you thought viewers would like to see for the day. An hour before the scheduled stream, you set up a waiting room on the website that hinted at what the day’s theme would be. Today you thought you’d go a little easy on the eyes; “live soon, hardcandysweetheart: play time! <3”

A typical stream would start off soft, greeting viewers like any other meeting. You’d ask how their day was, if there was anything in particular they wanted to do or talk about, some answered genuinely while others urged you to strip. You liked the ones that asked you how your day was, too, and enjoyed sharing your thoughts with them. Though, it was no secret what everyone was here for, even if sometimes– just sometimes, you liked what came before taking off your clothes more than anything.

“I have a few things in mind for play time today, I’d like to hear what you guys think. Would you prefer this,” in your hand, you held up your favorite vibrator, big and baby pink. “Or this?” in the other, a new grinder that resembled the shape of a tentacle with the sucker-side up.

Comment section didn’t slow down as soon as you showed the second toy. “I thought you might like this one. I got it just for you! I’m excited to try it out with you.”

– im so fucking hard

– i wanna see ur pussy

– thats so nice, ur sweet

“Slow down! Haha, we’re gonna take our time,” you laughed away the weird feeling in your chest as you read the fleeing comments. “You’re so impatient today, lovely. Did you have a hard day? I know I did,” you slowly peeled down the blouse you wore, letting it hang off your shoulders to expose your bare shoulders. It seemed redundant to wear a bra, but you kept the shirt covering your breasts for dramatic effect, hard nipples peaking through.

“I just wanna take it a little more… gentler, if that’s alright.” The camera was angled to cut off at your neck to avoid showing your face, but you bit your lip anyways as you held up the grinder. “It’s a little out of my comfort zone, honestly. I’ve never told you about this fantasy before.” You ran your finger down the rubber center, feeling the many little suction cups bend.

You giggled as you came to the swirled tip of the tentacle, playing with the way it curled and how pliable it was. “When I ordered this, they let me choose the color. I think pink suits me, don’t you? But I also thought, maybe blue? Or black… but then it would be too hard for you to see, right?”

As you spoke, you laid the grinder between your legs but not quite touching it. With two fingers, you stroked it the same way you would your own pussy. Your other free hand was doing just that right behind the toy and beneath the length of your shirt, feeling your wetness building up with your hand down your panties. “Oh my, just talking to you– my underwear is soaked!” The giggle that left your lips was genuine, you didn’t expect to work yourself up so quickly.

You stole your fingers from your cunt and showed it to the camera, spreading them to let your viewers see the slick coating shine in the soft lighting. “Heh, told ya I was excited. You make me like this.”

When you started to really get going it was hard to pay attention to the comments, you tended to get a little lost until you finally came. Like now, you brought the toy closer to your core, lightly lifting yourself to sit on it. As soon as you did, you let out a whimper.

Hyunjin had never felt so embarrassed in his life. He doesn’t even know why, he couldn’t have been sure of anything.

Except he was. He was 100% sure, plus another 10% for good measure. He hadn’t even known about the site for long, you were just his favorite. He’d found hardcandysweetheart and never bothered to look anywhere else.

You were just another customer at first, a pretty one that caught his attention. He noticed you in line and had every intention of flirting and possibly asking for you to sign up for the rewards program with them just so he could use that as an excuse to get your number. Then you spoke.

All you fucking did was speak. “Please,” and “thank you,” and Hyunjin fucking crumbled.

Jesus, he must have looked like an idiot. He knows he did, but he was star struck. Fanboying, red in the face with embarrassment, about to fold at the knees, and hard as a fucking rock all at the same time. He had to excuse himself to the restroom as soon as you left just to get his boner to go away.

If it really was you– and he hoped to god it wasn’t– he’ll never forget such a pretty face.

Which is why he turned on notifications for your stream. He knew your schedule by heart but he needed to be sure that it was your voice he heard. As soon as he got home from his shift, clothes came off and he was sat in bed with his laptop nearby, just waiting for the ping notification from you.

God, it was you. As soon as he heard you through his headphones, it confirmed what he already knew.

What a kind voice, supple, soft, he could listen to you for hours– he has listened to you for hours. Sometimes he wished you could do live streams of just you talking, you never even had to take your clothes off. Now that he knew what you looked like, Hyunjin’s heartbeat faster than it ever did when you made conversation.

It was the way you did, as though you were speaking to him and only him. The image he created of you in his head looked like it was thought up by a child in comparison to seeing you in real life. He could put a face to the voice now, he wasn’t even thinking about your body. Just your voice.

“You make me like this,” you said in almost a whisper, tone cracking just a little the more you sat on the toy.

Hyunjin couldn’t help but palm at himself, not entirely stroking but moving at the same pace. This was a team effort, in his mind. You made him crazy, as he did to you. That was his fantasy. You always spoke with so much love in your voice, as though you truly cared for him and it got him harder than any other kind of porn ever could.

Was that really all it took? Was he that pathetic? Someone who didn’t even know who he was, talking to an ocean of people that all saw the same thing he did, and suddenly it’s the only thing that can make him cum.

He can’t even complain now, he’s seen you. That’s enough spank bank to last him a lifetime if you ever suddenly decided to stop camming. Shit– he hopes he didn’t just manifest that into existence.

The white button up top draped in front of your cunt to hide away from view. That’s alright, you said you were taking it slow today. Your hips slowly pushed forward and back, hands gripping tightly at the armrests of your uncomfortable looking desk chair. Hyunjin thought it was kind of cute how you would still cam in the same seat as you did when he found your first video. 

His laptop on his abdomen concealed the view of his cock leaking, but the way you were sat on screen, he could envision it was him you were sitting on instead. That’s exactly what he imagined as you rocked faster into the toy, lifting your shirt and balling it in your fist to show that your wetness had spread to the front of your panties. Hyunjin didn’t even mind that the bold pink tentacle blocking a bit of the view, you were getting so into it that he hardly noticed anymore.

Hyunjin fumbled to find his dick, slowly beginning to squeeze the head as you turned to shorter and quicker ruts towards the front of the toy where the tentacle curled up. You moaned loudly, making him do so as well in return. “Fuck, I ruined this pair, didn’t I?”

Your cute laugh had Hyunjin breaking out into a smirk, “that’s okay,” he whispered to no one but himself.

“I should take it off but,” you rolled your hips again with a whine, “I kinda want you to work for it.”

The tips in the corner of the page were pinging like crazy as soon as you said that. He himself tapped the button rapidly and paid no mind to how his account balance shot down.

“C’mon now, don’t be shy. It’s just one little word that I wanna hear. I’ll say it first, if that makes you feel better.” The speed of your hips picked up a little, in turn Hyunjin let his fist slowly work up and down, no faster than you, of course.

“Please. Please, is the word I’m looking for, lovely. Say it, just once.”

Fuck, he couldn’t help speeding up just a little. He loved the way you said it, even more the way you commanded him to say it as well. “Please,” the whimper came out breathy and uneven as the precum lubricated his cock more.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Hyunjin shook his head, no. 

“No, it wasn’t. Look what happens when you ask nicely,” you stood from your seat just to pull off the flimsy fabric, sitting fully back down on the toy and holding up the soaked pair with another chuckle. “You get nice things.”

Hyunjin could hear how wet you really were now, every lewd sound that came from you rubbing yourself back and forth on the grinder. You still didn’t let him– them– see you fully. He wasn’t even sure if you’d expose yourself at all this stream. Still, his fist picked up speed as you did, taking in every grunt you let out when you’d hit a particularly good spot. Hyunjin kept his eyes on you the whole time, memorizing the way you moved, what angle made you tick.

“C’mon lovely, I know you can do better than that.”

You were referring to the tip counter, but Hyunjin took it as he can do better than that. His other hand reached around the laptop, down to cup his balls as he worked his cock faster, occasionally running his fingers over the head for a break in stimulation. Somehow he managed to stop touching himself for a split second to rapid fire extra tips when they slowed down.

“Oh, someone wants a little extra attention today. What do I call you, lovely?” Hyunjin wasn’t sure if you were speaking to him, though he hoped and typed a nickname anyways. “Baby? That’s cute. Thank you, baby, you’re so sweet.”

His hand instantly returned to his dick, not caring about the speed anymore, instead wanting to cum to the sound of your voice. He quickly tapped the tip button a few more times and you giggled, “baby, you’re spoiling me. Here, since you’re being so nice,” you lifted the hem of your shirt to put your bare cunt on display, seemingly tucking the end of it into your mouth.

Hyunjin could see it so clearly, your pretty lips drooling onto the fabric, biting it to contain the moans that wanted to slip past. Fuck, he was going insane, wet, slick noises from his animalistic fisting on his cock almost surpassing the volume of your voice in his headphones. 

He just watched now, listened intently to how good you were making yourself feel and it made his body light a fire. You were clearly getting closer as well, forgetting the dirty talk and humping away at the toy with little to no regard for who was watching. Hyunjin loved this side of you the most, when you couldn’t think of anything other than the impending pleasure. He could imagine your eyes rolling back, the furrow in your brow and beads of sweat dripping down your temples as you came nearer to falling over the edge. Your hands moved to grip the edge of the seat, aiding in pushing your body forward and back harder against the grinder and Hyunjin was jerking himself with a hotter fervor. Your muffled cries echoed in his head– he was making you feel like this, he was the one you were using to please yourself, he was the one you thought of as you came all over his cock.

Hyunjin suddenly held his breath and let his release take over his body, squeezing and pumping the tip of his cock as he spurt his seed all over his stomach and back of his computer. By the time he’d come to, opened his eyes, and regained his breath, you were slumped back in your chair and panting heavily. He missed your grand finale, but that was okay with him, you came at the same time. Even in post nut clarity, he wanted to hear your voice. More than that, he wanted to hold you, run his fingers through your hair, kiss you until you were breathless all over again.

Hyunjin’s shaky hand found the tip button again and tapped.

“Thank you, baby.” He smiled.

You groaned and found the strength to steal the toy from your aching cunt, holding it up for the camera to see it glistening with your essence. Laughing, “this was fun, wasn’t it? I enjoyed myself, I might have to buy more of these.” You tossed it onto the desk and suddenly seemed shy, tugging your shirt as far down as you could without exposing more skin. “Until next time, lovely. I’ll miss you.” You waved your dainty fingers at the camera, doing your signature sign off, and the screen went black.

Hyunjin’s head fell back into his pillows, staring at the ceiling trying to understand all the emotions he just rushed through. 

He couldn’t compute them even if he tried. All he knew was that he was excited to go to work tomorrow morning, hoping that whatever god heard his plea, begging that you’ll come in.

When he went to shut his laptop, his fingers smeared the warm mess that was slowly dripping. “Fuck— ew,” and he hurried to clean up, alone once again.

☆ﾟ

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @goblinracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut

[luvrxbunny]

churn

pairing: knight!Miguel O’Hara x princess!reader

summary: Your royal knight helps you in a way your fiancé never could.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader has hair that can be pushed over her shoulder, reader has visible collarbones, infidelity, miguel seems to have a little thing for readers collarbones.. Idk,  f! masturbation, IMPORTANT LINK (ill be refering to this throughout the fic)

wc: 4.9k

a/n: i don't even think this is good guys cry i just needed to post something but i tried ilya 🫶🏾 (not proofread one bit)

He hated this part of the day. 

Miguel isn’t allowed to feel many things, he is even more limited in who he can feel them for, but he hates this part of the day. When you finally finish your chores and duties. You always tell him that you’re not going to get excited this time, that you know he’s busy but he always sees the excitement build in your face as you search tirelessly for your fiancé. 

Ser Isaac was one of the more well-known lords of the land. He’s known for his outstanding looks and entertaining charm. Everyone has heard of his endless generosity, empathy, and care for others. But in Miguel’s experience. He’s a selfish dick. 

He doesn’t hate Ser Isaac, of course not, that’d be treason. He is allowed to hate his actions, however; the way he neglects you. He hates how Ser Isaac is using you for your position, stature, and admiration throughout the kingdom. He spends all his time sucking up to your father, thanking him for his daughter's hand in marriage rather than worshipping the daughter for tolerating his artificiality. 

You round the corner to find your father and fiancé at the bar, once again. This is where they’ve been for the past few weeks. You’d asked them to try to spend less time together, to make some room for you, but they both laughed you off and continued their boisterous chatter. 

Miguel watches your smile melt off your face as you take in their inebriated state. You turn to him for a moment with a small smile, knowing he’ll give you the same pitying look you get every time this happens. It’s a small comfort; knowing that at least one person in your life cares about you, even if that person is your assigned guard.

You approach the pair of drunks with a brave smile. “Have you saved any for me, my love?” The two men pause to look at you before slowly turning back to one another and breaking out into a fit of laughter. Miguel can see your expression flush into one of embarrassment and anger. You open your mouth to speak again but their laughter raises in volume, drowning out anything you would’ve said. 

Miguel sees a heartbreaking sadness flash over your face before you compose yourself. 

In his mind though, it’s the same as you begging him for help, so he steps in. He moves from his corner by the doorway to stand at your side. His presence gives you a small boost of confidence and commands the men to give you more than 3% of their attention. 

Your fiancé is the first one to quit his laughter and sober up a bit. He takes a deep breath and rolls his eyes at Miguel’s presence. “Is he necessary?” He doesn’t even look at Miguel, his eyes don’t flicker in his direction once. Miguel does the same, keeping his eyes forward and surveying his surroundings. He can’t help the slight smirk that worms its way onto his face, however. 

You stand up straighter at the acknowledgment of your muscle. “Miguel is mine, therefore he stays by my side.” Miguel’s eyelids flutter and flicker to you for a moment. He tries his best to ignore the swirling in his stomach but his breathing stutters. “I’d like to confer with you about your schedule, dear.”

Your fiancé smirks maliciously at you before changing it into a faux kind smile. “Of course, sweetheart. I’ll make so much time for you.” He stands up, looming over you but not taller than Miguel. “When I’m finished organizing all of our affairs, paying all your maids.” His voice gains more and more venom as he stalks closer to you. 

Your confident gaze is gone, now looking at the wall rather than your soon-to-be husband. “Yes, dear. I’ll spend time with you when I’m done with cleaning your messes.” His voice raises to a shout, screaming right in your face as your eyes stay on the ground. Miguel’s hand goes to rest on the hilt of his sword, just as a reminder of what could happen if Ser Isaac decides to do more than yell. But that negatively catches his attention. 

He scoffs loudly and turns to Miguel, who still isn't meeting his threatening eyes. “You think to strike me? You?” Miguel hears you take a breath, like you’re preparing to speak up for him but he can’t allow that. “I only mean to protect the Princess, Ser.” Miguel keeps his smirk from crawling onto his face this time, he keeps his expression stoic and straight ahead. 

“Oh? OH? I’ll I have you know that I shall do whatever-” He raises his hand. “I’d like-” 

It comes down toward you “with MY wife.” Miguel grabs his wrist, stopping all movement. You watch his grip tighten before your eyes, so tightly you swear you can hear Isaac’s bones cracking. 

“You will not. Not in my presence, or ever, if I can help it.” You’ll never forget the look on his face. The pure shock on his face, the look of disgust and disdain. You don’t even want to think of Miguel’s face. The anger, and unwavering confidence. He exudes this certain dominance over Isaac that you can’t help but admire.

Isaac’s face shows a look of embarrassment once he sees how easily Miguel can hold him back, so he scoffs and goes back to his seat, grumbling about your ‘big oaf of a guard.’ He complains about the both of you to your father as if you aren’t even in the room. You’re not too sad about it, you’ve grown a bit used to his rejection, and it doesn't sting as bad. 

A clock in the corner of the room catches your eye and excitement runs through you with a soft gasp. Miguel looks over to you and follows your gaze to see the time, 3:00 PM. The swirling in his stomach returns as you clear your throat and begin to leave the room. Although you know Mguel will follow, you keep pace with him once you both exit the room, choosing to walk by his side. 

You’re always different for the next two hours. You linger by him more, find more excuses to touch him and talk with him. He knows why, he knows how princesses like to play their games, how they love all their suitors. But sometimes he slips up, sometimes he believes your advances are genuine, that you honestly wish for him to whisk you away from your castle life, your perfect, royal life. Then he comes back to reality. 

You enter your chambers and stand by the foot of your bed, Miguel by the door. His heart is racing because he knows what comes next. It’s- unfortunately, his favorite time of the day. You stand by your wardrobe, just looking into the mirror before catching his gaze in the reflection. “Mig?” Your soft tone sends a suppressed shiver through his body. “Do you think you could help me?”

He’s walking towards you without hesitation. “I- I’d ask one of the maids but they’re all busy and-” He doesn’t need a justification, you don’t need an excuse. “Of course, Princess. I understand.” You do this every time. Your maids are always ‘too busy’. You both know it's a ruse, but neither of you wants it to stop. 

He lets his hands rest on your side for a moment, relishing the way he can feel you expand with the deep breath you take. He slides them back to where you’re laced into your dress and takes his time untying the strings. You wish you could see his hands, the way they’d thread through the strings, how careful and gentle they’d be. Or how small the strings would look between his thick fingers. 

Once he finishes loosening your corset he opens it for you, reliving the extreme pressure it puts on you and you thank him with a soft sigh. He’s in a trance though, he slowly removes the fabric from your body. Your spine seems to compress itself, making you seem even shorter than usual now that you don’t have this brace forcing you upright. You’re just watching him in the mirror as his hands come up to your shoulders and slowly turn you around. He’s not looking you in the eyes yet, he’s just looking at you. He looks at your collarbones and slowly pushes your hair over your shoulder to reveal more of you to him. But something snaps him out of his trance and he puts distance between the two of you before you even take a breath. “S- I’m so sorry, Princess.I—” You cut him off before he can say more. 

“There's no need for an apology! I didn’t say anything, did I?” There’s a shy flirtiness in your tone that causes Miguel’s face to sink into a dark red color, bringing a giggle to your lips that only worsens his condition. He turns and walks back to the door while you finish undressing. 

He keeps his eyes dutifully out the window. Pretending he can't hear the fabric sliding against your naked skin. How he yearns to look, it's like you have your own gravitational pull. It’s a constant struggle to hear you undressing and redressing yourself into something he knows is going to screw with him. You’ll probably change into your favorite nightgown. It’s an adorable sleeved gown with feathers at the top. You always mention you don’t like how long it is, and that it’s “unflattering” but in truth, everything you wear is flattering. You make it so. 

Miguel suddenly becomes aware of the silence in the room. No rustling, no sliding fabrics. He risks looking over at you and his heart almost beats out of his chest. It’s new. You must’ve gotten it tailored because he’s never seen anything fit you so well. It’s a night dress, flowy but short, very short. It barely reaches the halfway point of your thigh. It has no sleeves, your neck, collarbones, and shoulders on full display, and the top hugs your breasts in a way he’s never witnessed. 

You watch him admire you for a moment before speaking up with a soft “Hmm?” and his eyes fly to yours. “I think it’s quite cute!” You smile at him brightly, waiting for his opinion. He doesn’t give you one though, he just stares at you for a little longer. You grow conscious under his stare and anxiety begins to eat away at you. “W- What do you th—” 

His face twitches before he blurts out. “Yes. Yes, you look-- It’s very- You look very cute. It’s beautiful. You- You look amazing, Princess.” His sentence ends with a sharp inhale that's followed by a calm exhale as Migusl straightens out. He’s been slowly leaning down, subconsciously trying to get closer to you. “You look incredible, Princess.” He tries to place his eyes forward again, trying to turn the environment back to professional, he can’t help but look at you one last time as you thank him. 

Your eyes are on the ground and your hand sliding up your arm, uncomfortable with all the skin you’re showing. “You do.” Your eyes snap up to his upon his third confirmation. You seem to be searching his eyes for something, looking deep into him in a way he’ll never get used to. 

Your brows furrow and you chew on your lip for a few seconds before declaring that he follow you and starting a rapid pace. He follows behind you urgently before realizing where the two of you are headed.

The castle has a lot of tunnels and hidden passageways, these passageways sometimes lead to other rooms in the castle or secret rooms in the castle. One of your handmaidens was kind enough to show you a passageway right by your washroom that leads to a secret chamber. You’d instantly fallen in love with what you found. 

Miguel was there the first time you saw it, you laughed so loud it echoed off the walls. You thought it was a novelty. He was there when he saw it pique your interest for the first time. It had been late at night, and Miguel hadn’t retired to his quarters yet so he was guardian of your door. Inside your room, he could hear you giggling with a drunk Ser Isaac. Your giggle soon turned to breathy whines but they were interrupted with a dull ‘thump’ before a very disappointed sigh from you. It was a matter of seconds before you opened your chamber doors and told him to follow you with about the same amount of urgency that you just did. 

You told him to guard the door and quickly shut it before you could see any opinion on his face. He was almost hyperventilating at his post. First of all, he was uncomfortable being out here, staring at your drunk, passed-out, fiancé, while you’re in that room doing god knows what. The other thing that bothered him was how he could not stop thinking about how he’d be so much better for you than that machine. 

You opened the door again far too quickly with an even more frustrated expression on your face. “I cannot figure it out. It- It doesn’t work.” Your words come out as an exasperated whine that tugs at his heartstrings. “Show me.” 

You chew on your lip for a second before opening the door to let him in and shutting it behind the two of you. There’s a single, yellow light overhead, shining down on where you would be sitting, where the heavy, metal rod protrudes from the seat. “This thing? It will not move, no matter how hard I try!” He examines the churning lever, immediately spots the problem, and starts removing his gloves. 

“It’s rusted over, Princess. I can fix it.” You watch as his thick fingers curl around the lever and his biceps tense as he pushes, trying to break it free of the rust. There’s an awful screeching sound and Miguel grunts roughly as the lever begins to move. You try to hide your smile of excitement as Miguel rotates the handle a few more times before letting go. “There.” 

You rush over to test for yourself and make sure you can operate it on your own. You smile and turn to Miguel after moving it around with ease. He smirks back at you while he brushes his hands together to remove the rust, and something about the whole scene does something to you. His hands are dirty, his knuckles hairy, his hands huge and thick as he stares at you with something you haven't seen before. You still have one more problem. 

“It also…” You trail off before clearing your throat and starting again. “It doesn’t seem to fit.”

Miguel has to shut his eyes for a moment as arousal floods his veins. He takes a deep breath before looking up at you with the softest expression he could muster, hoping it would hide his lust. “You need to start with your fingers, Princess.”

Your eyes widen at his answer and you quickly nod despite him being able to see the confusion written all over your face. He smiles fondly before explaining further. “That.” He gestures to the machine. “Is too big for most girls.” He looks you directly in your eyes as he speaks, slowly bending to your height. “So you have to start with your fingers.” Your eyes dart to his dirty hands for a moment. “You put them inside you, however many you can take.” 

You start blinking rapidly like your innocent little brain is having trouble processing what he’s telling you. All you respond with is, “Oh.” Miguel chuckles quietly before standing upright and putting his gloves back on. “Yes. I hope that helps.” You walk up to the door with him, to open it for him or accompany him out but you both pause when you hear a bit of commotion on the other side of the door. 

You watch him as he identifies the noise, and breathe out a soft sigh of relief when you see his tense expression relax. “They’re cleaning up Ser Isaac.” He states with a certain disdain that makes you smile softly. You stare at him.

“Okay, then you stay here.” You walk over to the seat and churn the lever a few times to ensure you could do it yourself before sitting on the edge, not quite on the metal penis but close. Miguel is watching from the corner with wide eyes, unable to rationalize what’s going on. You simply tell him “Don’t look.” And he whips his head back around. 

He stares at the dark wall, unknowing what he’s waiting for until he hears it. A soft sigh leaves your lips. He waits. He receives more. You grow in volume as you become wetter, he can hear it, the little squelching sounds getting louder, and faster as you get more desperate. Miguel is using all his willpower to not turn around and take in what he has no doubt is a beautiful sight. 

He hears your whines muffle as you bite your lip and he wishes you could tell you not to, that he wants to hear them all and more. He heard you let out a ragged breath as you added another finger and he couldn’t help his desire to do it for you, but he happily settled with only hearing your beautiful sounds and movements. 

He thanks the Gods every day for letting him stay in that room, for giving him the saccharine memories of you pleasuring yourself for the first time. 

This time feels different though. You’re all dressed up and giving him that look. The one that swirls fantasies into his head and makes his hands clam up. 

He follows you to the room and assumes his position in the corner, but never hears the metallic clink of you situating yourself in the seat. He waits and waits but hears nothing, no movement from you. So he turns around. He has to see what you’re doing, even if it's only for a second, just to make sure you’re safe. 

He finds you standing directly behind him, staring right at him so you guys make eye contact the moment he looks over his shoulder. He instantly turns back around, embarrassed that you found him looking, and worried you might get the wrong idea.

Miguel tries to explain himself, stumbling and stuttering over the start of his sentence before you cut him off. “How come you never look?”

The question silences him. 

“Do you have no desire to?” He turns around again. You seem genuine in your questioning, he feels like he detects a bit of hurt in your voice as well, but that’s most likely in his head. 

“You know I cannot desire.” He states softly. He, as a knight, cannot desire any woman, and most definitely not a princess. Yet he sees anger flash through your eyes at his statement. 

“Just because someone tells you you’re not allowed, does not mean you can’t.” Miguel stays silent, not knowing what you want him to say in response. He can see you scanning his face, examining his features to try and find any crack in his exterior. You must find whatever you’re looking for because you suddenly nod and take a step back. 

“Who are you more loyal to, your oath, or me?” The question baffles him. “If I, your princess, were to tell you to disobey your oath… Would you?” 

His eyes widen and you can see the gears turning in his head, trying to understand where his loyalties should lie. His mouth opens and closes with unsaid words and you decide to give him a break. 

“Come here.” You demand, pointing next to the machine, by the churning lever. You take a deep breath, seat yourself by the metal phallus, and slip a finger under your gown before you can give it a second thought. 

You slide your fingers over your panties for a moment, teasing yourself. Through a lot of trial and error, you’ve found that this is your favorite part; exploring your body, what makes you feel good, and feeling yourself soak your panties throughout the process. 

You hear Miguel take a sharp breath of air, reminding you of his presence and sending a jolt to your core. You’ve never been like this in front of someone, aside from what Miguel could hear and the few times your fiancé was sober enough to attempt to get you off. But even then, it didn't feel like it does now. 

You can’t help but imagine what it would be like if Miguel was the one touching you. If it were his thick fingers sliding under the satin fabric of your underwear to finally slide into you. There’s a burning stretch due to you using two fingers instead of one but it only furthers your fantasies of Miguel’s large hands. You peek your eyes open for a moment, your gaze still on the ground but you can see his feet, a small (or rather large) reminder that he’s right there. 

You can’t help the whimper that slips out, louder than usual. You’re more desperate. You can’t think of any other reason aside from him. You’re soaking your fingers in a way you haven’t since your first time and it’s driving you wild. “Miguel” His name comes out with a small whine, pitching your voice up and scrambling his brain. 

He has to take a deep breath before answering you out of fear that his voice will shake. “Princess?” His voice is rough and gravelly. He hears you take a sharp breath at the sound of it before clearing your throat in hopes of composing yourself. 

“You will churn the lever for me today.” His heart stops. “Understood, Ser?” His eyelids flutter as his eyes burn holes in the wall he’s facing. He goes over your sentence in his head, assuming he must’ve misheard you. His brows furrow and twitch along with his face before accepting that he heard you correctly. “Un-” He takes a shaking breath. “Understood, Princess.”

His hand comes up to wrap around the lever without him even looking in your direction. 

You stare up at him as you pull your panties aside and slide down the cold metal, your teeth digging into your lip to try and keep any noises inside. You only let out a satisfied sigh once you’ve sunk to the bottom before pushing yourself to the tip again. 

You can’t help but focus on him. He’s right there. You can see the curve of his nose and the plush of his lips, the way they purse before his tongue comes out to wet them and pull one into his mouth to bite. He doesn’t have his helmet on so you can see his rich brown curls, the way they frame his face and dance over his neck. You can see his thick, bushy brows, and behind his beautiful lashes are his warm, chocolate-brown eyes looking down at you. 

You gasp once your eyes meet and Miguel goes red. He just wanted to see you for a moment. You’re right there, practically whining in his ear as you impale yourself on what should be his cock. 

He can’t take it anymore, he can’t hold his feelings back as he feels a ripple flow through him and blood rush to his dick. His head decides to conjure every arousing, heart-warming, lovable memory he has of you. He hears you whine again at the loss of eye contact, even if it was only for a moment. Another ripple flows through him, settling in his lower stomach, and creating a painful pressure as your whimpers grow. He tries to redirect his thoughts and focus ahead as he keeps churning for you, cranking the lever again, and again. Your moans pick up as he regains his steady pace.

He tries not to imagine that it’s him. He tries not to think about the fact that your moaning aligns with the throbbing of his cock. He definitely doesn't think about the way his dick is pressing into the metal plate covering his cock. He doesn’t note the way his free hand twitches behind his back, wishing to provide any sense of relief to himself. He doesn’t get distracted by the thought of him touching himself with you sitting right there. 

You feel your orgasm building before Miguel starts to slow down again, his timing uneven again and you look up at him in confusion. He’s staring at the wall, his chest heaving and that same expression on his face. You don’t care to decipher what it means in your impatience. Miguel just feels your delicate hand on his, pushing his hand, forcing him to churn the lever.

You moan as your seat becomes functional. Your chin collides with your chest as you release all the moans and whimpers you’ve been trying to quiet. It almost feels like he’s been toying with you, with all his starting and stopping. You’ve been pushed to the edge of your sanity. 

You can’t comprehend how embarrassing this might be for you, a princess burying this rod inside you again and again, wishing it was someone other than who you’re set to marry. 

You shake the thought of Isaac from your head and replace it with Miguel. Just thinking about the life you could have with him has you tensing over the metal. Your fingers lace with his before you can even think about what you’re doing.

Miguel’s gaze is now on the ceiling, his eyes already slipping shut as your nails dig into his hand. His dick is leaking behind his crotch plate now, begging for your attention, a feeling he isn’t used to regulating. He feels himself pulse painfully and his free hand twitches again. 

Just for a moment. He thinks. Just one second. 

His hand comes from behind his back to crush itself against his crotch, trying to relieve any pressure before he loses his mind, but you hear the clink of the metal hitting and open your eyes instantly. You spot his hand over his dick before slowly looking up to meet his eyes. Miguel lets a moan slip out as he massages himself more thoroughly, squeezing more precum from his tip before pulling away and forcing himself to break your stare. 

“Please.” Is all he hears from you. It’s weak, pathetic, and punches him in the gut, taking all the breath from his lungs. His eyes wander back to you before he can think better of it and he’s instantly stuck, locked into your eyes. 

He watches your body catch alight. You tremble over the steel cock, holding eye contact with Miguel and pushing his hand, forcing him to churn, fuck you over and over as you cum. He can’t do anything but watch. He doesn’t even think about touching himself, not wanting anything to take his attention away from this moment. 

He watches you come down, your body melting into a puddle before him. You drape yourself over the front of the machine as you huff. Even out of breath and covered in sweat, your hair a mess and your dress surely mussed, he thinks you look like an angel, and it breaks his heart that he’ll never be able to keep you. 

He takes a deep breath before releasing the lever, relishing in the whine that leaves your throat as the rod slides out of you one final time. Despite better thinking, Miguel pats your head fondly, almost petting you before speaking as softly as he can. “Come on, Princess. Let’s get you to bed.”

You only hum and bury yourself in his neck as he lifts you from your seat. He takes his time getting back to your room, letting you rest in his arms for as long as he can allow. 

He lays you on your bed gently, propping your head up on the pillow and even going to cover you before you stop him. “Mmm Mig..” You begin sitting up again and stretch before opening your eyes to look at him.

Your eyebrows twitch, furrowing for a moment before he sees recognition in your eyes, quickly accompanied by mischief. “Sit down.” Your voice slurs adorably with your fatigue. He doesn’t get to hear this often. Normally, he’d do anything to stay with you, talk with you just a little more. 

But Miguel is still harder than steel in his suit, so pairing that with the hard metal of his armor, and sitting down? It sounds like the most painful thing he could do right now. “Princess… You should get some res-”

“ Sit down, Miguel.” He stares at you, debating his options again in the face of your stubbornness. You, however, take this as more defiance. “Please?” You beg him. 

You should know you never have to beg him for anything. 

He’s seated before your mouth even shuts. Your mouth is shaped into a smirk before he can take a breath, and you’re in his lap before he can blink. 

“Wha-?” Is all he can breathe out before your mouth is on his. His hands find your hips on instinct, grabbing all that he can and pulling it against him. You pull away. “Thank you.” And dive for him again. 

He places one hand behind your head to ensure you don’t do it again. 

thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist or send me some motivation here!!

[misshoneyimhome]

I’m OBSESSED with your prompt list & I want to request everything for Jack, but don’t want to spam you 😭 so I’ll do one to start hahaha

Can you do Jack with the prompt “Can you help me with my tie?” / “Can you zip up my dress for me?” — either one or both, whatever you’re feeling :)) <3

Babe, feel free to spam me anytime 😉 Although, I'm still practicing my writing skills when it comes to Jack H 🤍

But of course - though I did do a bit of a combo of the two 🌺 and in the end, it turned out to be nothing but sweet fluff

Hope you enjoy it 🤍

Word count; 2.1K

[bestfriend!Jack x reader] - again, I know 🙈

・✶ ｡ﾟ

As one of Jack Hughes’ closest friends, you were simply there for him through thick and thin. From the early days of his hockey career to then, as he’d become a big name in the NHL, you saw every success and setback, always giving him your unwavering support and encouragement.

Your bond with the Devils' star player was definitely something special, built on trust, mutual respect, and shared experiences. Together, you faced the ups and downs of life in the spotlight, as well as found solace in each other's company amidst the chaos of the hockey world.

And to put it bluntly, it wasn’t uncommon for people to mistake you as a couple. Although you tried not to post anything on social media, rumours often circulated. Even family members assumed there was something more to the story when he brought you over at almost every holiday family gathering. However, you were nothing more than his best girl friend. Which to him was probably the highest status one could ever get.

Despite Jack's busy schedule and the demands of his career, you just always remained a constant presence in his life, providing stability and comfort. Whether it was cheering him on from the stands at games or simply being there to listen after a tough loss, you were always there when he needed you most.

You even saw every girl who tried their luck with him, and all of them failed to stick around. Though you weren’t really sure why that was always the case. To you Jack was a good guy, busy sure, but good overall and anyone would be lucky to be with him. However, you could also understand that often his demanding lifestyle simply became too much for anyone to handle. And after every time he showed up at your place, you were the support he needed through every breakup.

And Jack cherished your friendship immensely. With you, he could be himself without any pretence, knowing that you'd accept him exactly as he was. He could put on a facade and a guard for the rest of the world, but with you, he knew it was of no use. You always saw right through him, for better or for worse.

So, when Jack invited you to join him at the Devils’ team event, it wasn't a surprise to anyone. Spending such time together had become second nature to you both, a cherished ritual that brought comfort and joy. You'd even spent so much time with his teammates that a lot of them had grown to be your close friends as well. They were almost like the protective brothers you'd never had.

And you, of course, accepted his invitation without hesitation. So, as you got ready for the event together, you felt a sense of excitement in the air, anticipating a night filled with laughter, camaraderie, and maybe even something more.

**

Jack stood in front of the mirror, his face displaying frustration as he attempted to knot his tie once again. Though it was something he'd often do before a match, tonight it just didn’t seem to work out for him. The smooth fabric slipped through his fingers, refusing to cooperate despite his repeated attempts. But then, with a soft sigh, he caught a glimpse of your reflection in the doorway, a knowing smile adorning your face.

"Struggling there?" you teased, slowly moving closer to him.

Turning to you, Jack looked relieved. "Actually, yes. Could you help me with my tie?" His voice held a touch of embarrassment, a contrast to his usual confidence on the ice, which made you chuckle softly.

"Of course," you replied, closing the gap between you and reaching for the silk tie. Your fingers skilfully worked the fabric into a perfect knot in no time. And as you adjusted it, your eyes met his in the mirror, and there was an unexpected shift between you, an unspoken understanding hanging in the air.

Then once Jack had sorted his tie, his gaze lingered on you, admiring the elegant lines of your evening dress, and he simply couldn't look away, struck by how stunning you appeared.

"Wow, you look amazing, y/n/n," he murmured, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

A blush crept onto your cheeks at his compliment, a soft smile forming in response. But before you could form a reply, though, you remembered the zipper on your dress.

"Actually, I could use your help too," you confessed, your voice barely audible. Turning slightly, you presented your back to him, feeling a tiny surge of nerves at the intimacy of the request.

And without hesitation, Jack moved closer, his presence sending a wave of anticipation through you. His hands brushed lightly against your skin as he reached for the zipper, the gentle touch surprisingly sparking some kind of awareness between you.

As his fingers softly traced your back, you felt an unfamiliar desire stirring within you, drawing you both a little closer together. And unintentionally, you leaned in a little closer to him, prompting him to gently rest his palms on your waist, as for a brief moment, time stood still, and you admired each other in the mirror.

It was a moment of soft intimacy hanging in the air, and you couldn’t deny that thoughts were starting to form in your mind. Thoughts that had been there before, yet you always just shook them off, as you didn’t believe they’d mean anything - Was there truly nothing more between you and Jack, or had you been fooling yourselves this whole time?

However, with the evening's urgency weighing on both of you, the passing seconds reminded you of the time slipping away. And with a small sigh, Jack reluctantly pulled away, his hands lingering for a moment longer before he finally zipped up your dress.

"We should probably head out," he said, a hint of regret in his voice.

And you nodded in agreement, carefully stepping away from him. Yet, despite the pressing schedule, the electric tension between you remained, silently hinting at what perhaps could be.

**

As the night progressed, Jack found himself unable to shake the growing feelings in his heart. And if anything, they only seemed to deepen with each passing moment, fuelled by seeing you effortlessly mingling with the other guests at the event.

"She's looking good, huh?" Luke's voice suddenly snapped Jack out of his thoughts, bringing him back to reality.

"Yeah, she really does..." he replied softly, his gaze still fixed on you from across the room, drawn in by the warmth of your smile.

And Luke couldn’t suppress his amusement and grinned knowingly, nudging Jack with a playful elbow. "So, are you going to make a move or what?"

"What do you mean?" Jack pretended innocence, though his eyes revealed the truth of his emotions.

And Luke had to roll his eyes, not buying Jack's act. "Come on, man, you're practically drooling over her right now."

"I'm not drooling... I'm just admiring how great my best friend looks..." Jack tried to defend himself, but he knew it was futile.

"Sure, sure, but we both know that you're totally checking her out!" Luke laughed, finding the situation more than amusing.

For months, if not years, Luke had had a bet with Quinn about when you and Jack would finally admit your feelings for each other. And not just as best friends. It was obvious to everyone how both of you always tried to act calm and nonchalant, however, there were often hints of something lingering in the back of your minds. Yet, none of you took the step to admit it.

And amidst the brotherly banter, Nico suddenly interrupted with a grin at the sight of their exchange. "What's going on? Who's checking out who?"

"Oh, just Jack ogling y/n," Luke teased, earning a chuckle from Nico.

"I'm not... ogling her!" Jack protested, though the teasing only fuelled his growing attraction.

"Well, I wouldn't blame you if you were. I mean, she looks really hot tonight," Nico chimed in with a mischievous grin. "I mean, if you don't make a move on her, someone else might."

And those words seemed to hit Jack like a splash of cold water, stirring a hint of jealousy in his gut at the thought of someone else showing interest in you. Especially a teammate of his. It was as if it was the push he needed to finally gather the courage to act on his true feelings.

So, as the event neared its end, Jack started to feel a little nervous about speaking his mind, which wasn’t usual for him. But as he prepared to bid farewell, determination surged within him. He simply couldn't let the night pass without expressing his feelings, without taking a chance on what could be.

Standing by the exit of the venue, Jack took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he was about to say. He then reached out, gently taking your hand in his, sending a jolt of electricity through you with his touch.

"Y/n, there's something I need to tell you," he began, his voice trembling slightly with nerves. "Tonight... tonight was different for me.”

“Jack, what do you mean?” you flashed him a crooked smile, slightly unsure what he was trying to say.

“I mean, I think… I think I realised that I have feelings for you, more than just friendship."

His words hung in the air, the weight of them palpable. And as you looked at him, your heart was beating faster than you’d ever experienced. You had to swallow hard as you processed his confession. But then he continued.

"I know this might come as a surprise, and I completely understand if you don't feel the same way," he added with a crooked smile, his gaze searching yours for any hint of a response. "But I couldn't let tonight end without at least trying to tell you how I fe-"

Interrupting him with a surge of confidence, you reached up and tenderly held his face in your hands, pulling him into a gentle kiss. And in that moment, as your lips were connected, Jack felt a rush of emotion engulf him, a sense of completeness and contentment unlike anything he had ever known.

There was a comfortable warmth spreading through him as his mind processed your actions, and though almost completely frozen, he still managed to respond with his hands finding your hips.

And as you slowly parted from the kiss, his heart couldn’t stop racing with a mix of excitement and relief. He looked into your eyes, trying his best to read your thoughts.

"Y/n, I... I," he started, uncertainty evident in his voice.

But you simply smiled softly, your fingers tracing his cheek. "Jack, I've been feeling the same way," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just didn't know how to say it."

Relief flooded through Jack, his tension easing as he released a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. "Really?" he asked, disbelief tinting his voice.

You nodded, a shy smile gracing your lips. "Yes, really."

And suddenly, it was like a giant wave of happiness washed over Jack, filling him with a warmth he hadn't felt in ages. Without another word, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go.

"Shit, then I’m really happy I told you," he murmured into your hair, his voice brimming with gratitude.

"Me too," you replied with a light chuckle, planting a kiss on his chest. "I've wanted to tell you for so long, but I just didn’t want to risk… you know, our friendship in case you didn’t feel the same."

“Yeah… I guess I’ve just sort of realised… sorry it took so long,” he added with a sweet chuckle.

“Oh, you know, better late than never.”

And wrapped in each other's embrace, Jack knew this was where you belonged. Looking into your eyes, he vowed to do whatever it took to make you happy, to build a future together filled with love and laughter.

Meanwhile, a few feet away, Luke and Nico observed the sweet interaction between the two of you. And with a heartfelt chuckle, Luke turned to Nico with a smug expression.

“Guess I can call Quinn and tell him I won the bet then.”

“What was the bet on?” Nico inquired with a chuckle.

“Oh, just that he said they wouldn’t admit anything before one of them was in a serious relationship,” Luke explained. “But I didn’t think they’d ever get that far.”

“And clearly, you were right,” the captain let out a deep laugh.

[msschemmenti]

girl next door 🏠- 2

jemily x reader

a/n: chapter two! i’m also posting this on ao3 under my user over there (eternaldulcet) :)

DC was turning out to be a rather enjoyable living experience for y/n. She’d finished unpacking within her first week and now was just settling into her new life. With June becoming July, the heat was high, but nothing compared to the summers down south she’d grown up in. She was rolling through all of her onboarding at the college and when she wasn’t on the campus, she was exploring DC. She’d seen the staples– the White House, Lincoln Memorial, and all that political jazz. But she’d found some real gems on her commute to work and back.

Aside from all the architectural and historical sites she’s seen, she really can’t express how enjoyable DC has been without acknowledging the gift that is Jennifer Jareau sprinting through the neighborhood. That first morning really had been a surprise, a beautiful, wonderful surprise! One that she very seldom missed now. Their schedules seemed to match in the sense that whenever JJ was out on her morning run, y/n was sitting on her porch swing nursing a cup of coffee. Or she’d made it part of her schedule. Not consciously but why change it now?

For the first week or so, they’d exchange a smile and wave and continue on their day. JJ headed for the stop sign at the top of the hill and y/n returned to her house. But one morning JJ switched it up a bit and detoured up y/n’s drive with a smile. She pulled her earbud out and smiled up at y/n, “Good morning neighbor.”

y/n pulled her eyes away from JJ’s sculpted stomach and met her eyes with a sheepish smile of her own. “Good morning indeed!” she nervously replied, pulling the mug of coffee closer to her chest.

JJ’s smiled quickly turned into a smirk and she leaned back in a stretch, one she knew highlighted all the physical features she worked so hard to maintain. “I see you’re an early riser like me.”

“Mmhmm, I sure do love the morning.” y/n nodded, distracted as all get-out. Hearing JJ’s pleased chuckle, y/n scrambled to sound more intelligent than she had initially. “I mean, I’ve really been enjoying the DC mornings. Plus once classes start I’ll be getting up this early anyway.”

JJ nodded, switching to a deep lunge, “Right, Em and I were wondering if you had started yet.”

“I’ve done all my onboarding with HR, so now it’s just meeting with my department chair and things like that. Classes start mid-August, so I’m soaking up my last real moments of freedom this month.” y/n explained around her mug.

“Gotcha, calm before the storm.” JJ smiled standing to her full height again, catching y/n’s wandering eyes. “Well let us know if you need anything before then. I’m not sure how much help we’ll be but we’re here either way.” They bid each other adieu and they part ways. From then on, if Emily and JJ are in town– it becomes a routine. JJ runs, y/n gawks, they talk, and part ways.

Emily, not exactly having the desire to wake early, catches y/n much later in the day. They too had developed a sort of neighborly wave routine, usually as Emily backs out of her driveway or the rare occasions that she and JJ make it home before dark. It was one of those days that she caught y/n struggling with a package that had been left at her mailbox. JJ’d left something in the car and sent Emily out to retrieve it, but she was complaining far less when she caught sight of the struggling younger woman.

Hurrying down the sidewalk she chuckled and swooped in to lift the other end of the box, “Let me help you with that.”

y/n sighed in relief as some of the pressure eased from her back, “oh thank god. I never did learn how to lift with my legs.” They side stepped their way up to the house and over the steps and with a bit of maneuvering got the package inside.

“where do you want it?” emily asked as they paused in the mud room.

“i’m pretty sure this is my bookshelf for my studio, so probably in there. i’ll lead.” y/n said studying the box before steering them both to the back of her house.

all the houses on the block basically have the same layout— so it wasn’t that surprising to see y/n was using this room as a work space considering jj and emily had done the same. what was surprising was the stark contrast to their office. they’d prioritized functionality and necessity in their space. walls were bare and the two desks took up most of the room. but y/n’s studio was way different. one corner was set up like a recording booth— walls covered in soundproofing foam and various microphones. a piano sat in the center of the room paper spread across the top of it. and the rest of the room held books piled high on the floor, different chairs.

“i can see why you need the bookshelf.” emily teased as they lowered the box to the floor near the books.

y/n chuckled and pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “yeah, don’t judge me. after i left my last school— i may have done a little shopping in my colleague’s offices. you can never have too much literature. plus i’ve got to build up my repertoire for students.”

“no judgment at all! i’ve got my fair share of books lining our office as well. most of my mine aren’t work related though. but i didn’t realize there was so much reading involved in vocal music.”

“oh yeah, everyone feels important enough to publish. somethings work and others don’t. i just try to know as much as i can.” y/n shrugged, moving to straighten the pages on the piano. “if you’re not reading the david rossi profiling collection, what are you reading?”

emily laughed outright, “oh those are on our shelves, i tend to read classics from all over the world. i like to practice the languages i don’t get to use as often.”

“a linguist,” y/n hummed as she smiled over her shoulder at emily.

“something like that,” emily said bashfully before deflecting. “what do you know about david rossi? that’s a pretty crazy name to pull out of thin air.”

y/n giggled with a shrug, “i did some research after you guys left. i was curious about the world of profiling and he has like a million books about it.”

emily laughed and nodded, “yeah, that’s rossi for you.”

y/n’s eyes widened a bit as she turned and leaned against the piano, “you know him personally?”

“oh yeah, he works with us. trust me, he gifts us all signed copies of his million books for every holiday.”

“well i’ve heard of tootin your own horn, but seems he’s taken that saying to a whole new level.” y/n shook her head. “well thank you so much for your help. i guess we can add that to my running list of reasons why having federal agents as neighbors is amazing.”

emily’s brow rose and she followed behind y/n back through the house. “a running list you say?”

“oh yeah, cataloging all the perks. top of the list— strong brunettes come to my rescue when lifting heavy packages.”

“always at your service. let us know if you need help building it. jj’s got a knack for all that diy home stuff.” emily saluted as she stepped out of the front door.

“you’ll be my first call.” y/n winked and waved goodbye.

-

“grayson, shut up! there’s no way you said that to him.” y/n gasped down the phone.

“why yes, i absolutely did. i think he was so shocked he short circuited.” grayson laughed.

y/n shook her head and wedged the phone between her ear and shoulder. she’d been working in the kitchen for the evening having caught the sudden craving for an apple pie. grayson had called right in the middle of her pulling the pie out and there really was no way to ignore gossip from her old office.

“well what did the rest of the team say?” y/n asked as she slid the pie out of the oven and onto a cooling rack.

“oh you know how they get. yasmine asked 100 questions, alice and rita giggled quietly. while the rest just looked around. god the office is not the same without you!” grayson whined.

y/n laughed and opened the kitchen window to air out the kitchen and the pie. “i know i know. im sure everyone is happy that we’re not there terrorizing everyone together anymore. but gray— you can’t say stuff like that during departmental meetings. bless his heart, you know javier is a power hungry asshole who does not take well to women questioning his decisions.”

“yeah yeah yeah— i’m just so sick of him making it harder for our music department to keep any majors. you know he plays favorites.”

y/n went to reply when a blonde head of hair caught her attention right outside her window, where her pie was cooling. she peered down and met jj’s bright blue eyes. she had a soccer ball at her feet and her hands on her hips. y/n’s quirked in a curious smile and she held up a finger for the older woman to wait while she opened the back door. “well you know that’s part of the reason i left anyway. he’s too big for his britches and nobody’s brave enough to tell him as much.”

y/n ushered jj in while she listened, “he keeps calling this meetings before classes start and trust, i’ll be telling him more than just that.”

“ah now you hush, you will do no such thing. go sit down somewhere and calm down. you know as well as i do, he’s like a dog on linoleum. all talk with that one.” y/n shook her head and blushed at the amusement on jj’s face. “listen grayson, let me let you go. my pie is done and i need both hands. we’ll talk next week, okay? alright bye.”

y/n pulled the phone from her ear and hung up with a sheepish smile, “sorry bout that, we always pick up for office gossip.”

jj shook her head and leaned against the kitchen island with a smile “you really are from the south,” she laughed.

“oh boy, what’s that supposed to mean?” y/n watched as jj laughed. her abs flexing just slightly through her tank top.

“i don’t think i understood half of what you were saying. oh and your accent— gets pretty thick when you’re speaking so passionately.” jj grinned.

“oh if you ever catch me drunk it’s waaaay stronger. but i’ll give you that, between Georgia and Kentucky I've definitely picked up some pretty interesting sayings over my life.”

“i bet, my grandparents had their little farm sayings in Pennsylvania but nothing as interesting as what i just heard.”

“well did you come over to eavesdrop or was there something else on your mind?” y/n teased as she moved to check on the pie in the window.

“well i was kicking the ball around out back when i suddenly smelled something very delicious coming from your yard. and i just had to check it out. the eavesdropping part was a happy accident.” jj smiled coming to peak over y/n’s shoulder at the pie.

“well i guess you’re in luck then, it has about 10 more minutes to cool.” y/n smiled pointed to the freezer. “if you’ll grab the ice cream out of the freezer, i’ll give you a piece.”

“you don’t to ask me twice.” jj nodded and pulled the vanilla ice cream out. y/n nodded in thanks and invited jj to have a seat at one of the island stools. as soon as jj took purchase on the stool both women heard a knock on the younger woman’s front door. y/n looked a little confused but jj waved her off and headed for the door. “it’s probably emily, i kinda just disappeared from the backyard at the smell of pie.”

y/n giggled and nodded and watched from the kitchen as the blonde ushered emily inside, “i should’ve known you’d end up over here somehow.”

“there’s pie over here. can you truly blame me?” jj shrugged, poking emily’s hip affectionately as they both made their way to the kitchen island and y/n.

“well i would’ve yes had you come back with no pie for me.” emily grumbled.

“don’t worry— i would’ve made sure you had a slice.” y/n winked at the older woman. “you know what they say, happy neighbor happy life.”

emily eyebrows furrow in confusion, “who’s says that? i thought it was happy wife happy life.”

“is that another southern saying we don’t know?” jj teased.

“no, i just think neighbors should also be happy. i figure you take care of the wife part anyways.” y/n shrugged, subtly eyeing the women for reactions to her words. she was pretty positive the women weren’t just roommates but she wanted to confirm. that way maybe her brain would start supplying a little guilt when she found herself damn near drooling over one or both of her neighbors.

jj and emily, laughed and nodded in understanding, but almost instantly peeped the younger woman’s intentions. “oh yeah we’re strong proponents of the happy wife lifestyle.“ emily nodded. y/n smiled. taking that confirmation for what she thought it was. no chance babe.

but the jj spoke, “but you’re absolutely right— neighbors should also be happy. i’m sure we can make both happen.”

[lewmagoo]

we own the sky | rhett abbott

part three: atmosphere

read the previous part here

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

description: in which you decide it's time to stop running

warnings: 18+ only, heavy themes, mentions of character death, grief, angst with a positive ending, smut, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, inaccurate weather terms, please do not check my science lol this story requires some suspension of disbelief. i usually try not to say much 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

word count: 13,768

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!

“Let’s go.”

Without a moment of hesitation, you were running after Rhett, shoes thudding against hardwood. You stepped outside and slammed the door shut behind you. Together, you descended the porch steps, and you followed him out to meet the team.

They were all milling about, discussing their course of action. At the sight of you approaching, they stopped talking, watching in surprise as you flanked Rhett. Perhaps they were worried this chase would end like the last one had, but if they were, they didn’t show it.

“Hey! You comin’ with?” Jeslyn asked you, hazel eyes questioning. 

Attempting to smile, you nodded. “I am,” came your answer.

Zara caught your eye, and she stepped toward you. “Are you okay to keep an eye on the radar, or would you rather just observe from the sidelines?” She was offering you a choice. You could get involved hands on, or take all the pressure off yourself and simply watch.

You knew what you had to do. “I’ll watch the radar. I can do it this time, I promise.”

She didn’t question you. She didn’t display any shred of doubt. She simply nodded her head. “Okay. You can ride with Rhett, then.” She shifted her weight from foot to foot as she continued. “Rhett said he told you about Danny and Finn’s new trackers?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, he did. Are we using them today?”

She nodded. “Yep! Me, Jes and the guys will get them up and running so you don’t have to worry about that. They should give you a high resolution feed on the radar and let you see things a lot more clearly. We’re hoping the trackers will give us a way to predict twisters more efficiently than just relying on emergency channels for warnings. We’ll see how it goes today.”

Moments later, she was handing you the iPad you’d used last time. She gave you a reassuring smile. “You’re gonna do great.”

You almost scoffed, but instead, remained stoic. “Thanks,” you murmured. 

She patted your arm before the stepped back to address the whole time. “Alright guys, let’s do this!” 

And with that, everyone climbed into their vehicles, preparing to run straight into the face of danger. You took a steadying breath as you settled into the passenger’s seat of Rhett’s truck once again, making sure to fasten your seatbelt before you unlocked the iPad.

You felt Rhett’s hand on your forearm, squeezing gently. He didn’t say anything, but you knew what he was trying to communicate. You can do this.

You could. You were sick and tired of letting your grief and fear control you. You would never be able to move on with life if you didn’t do something about it. This was in honor of your friends. Perry, Rebecca, and Lydia. You were going to do them proud. 

In the meantime, however, there was a long stretch of land to cross before you met the storm. And in that quiet forty-five-minute drive along the wide open stretch of road, you were forced to come to terms with what had happened in the kitchen that morning. Or, rather, what had almost happened. 

You couldn’t stop replaying it in your mind as you stared out the window at the rolling Oklahoma plains. 

Beside you, Rhett’s mind was whirling a mile a minute, thinking about what had transpired in the kitchen. He’d almost kissed you. He was so close to feeling your lips against his for the first time in years, until the moment had been ripped away. 

Now, all that was left was an uncomfortable ache in his chest. A void that could only be filled by facing his feelings for you. What Amy had asked that morning struck a chord in him. It felt like a slap to the face, or a bucket of cold water dumped upon his head. 

He still loved you. As if that came as any surprise at all. Had there ever been a time when he didn’t love you? You were a permanent fixture in his life. His earliest memory was the two of you sitting in church together, no older than four years old. You had made a silly little stick-figure drawing of the two of you holding hands. 

He never forgot that. And as years passed, it sometimes felt as if your stick drawing had predicted the future. 

He realized he loved you when he was twelve years old and entirely too young to understand the weight and depth of true love. You were kind and understanding and you laughed at his attempts to be funny. You made him feel seen when no one else so much as spared him a glance. 

Through his greatest achievements, you were there. Through his rock bottom moments, you were there. You kept him steady when he couldn’t stand. You held him together when he was falling apart. Hell, you’d even physically held him together when he was gored by a bull and was certain he was going to bleed to death. 

You were there until you weren’t. 

And for the six years that you were gone, he tried to replace you. Found himself entering into the beds of girls he didn’t love, hoping to find a connection half as special as the one you shared. But nothing stuck. He realized it was because he never moved on. And maybe he was a fool for it, but he didn’t care.

Here you were now, in the passenger seat of his truck again, and he knew that he wasn’t going to let you slip through his fingers. He was going to fight for you, like he should have done from the very beginning. 

“Want y’to know I’ll be with you every step of the way out there, when the storm hits. You’re not alone,” Rhett assured you. He glanced at you briefly before turning his eyes back to the road.

“I know,” you whispered in reply, mouth curving into a fond smile. “I’m glad you’re with me.”

It was his turn to smile, albeit shyly. “I’m glad, too.”

There were so many things left unsaid between you. Feelings that needed to be brought to light. But now was not the time. Not when you were driving into the eye of a storm and couldn’t afford to be distracted.

For the rest of the drive, not much was said between either of you. You were too preoccupied with what was to come. You kept your eyes on the radar, analyzing the storm. There was no guarantee that it would turn into a twister, but something in your gut told you that it would. 

The closer you got to Coal County, the darker the sky grew, and it seemed as if you were driving right into the belly of the beast. Lightning flashed in the distance, followed by the unsettling rumble of thunder. 

“Damn, look at that,” Rhett remarked. His eyes were wide with anticipation.

“Think it’ll give us our twister?” You asked.

He looked at the sky again. “It just might.”

Suddenly, Finn’s voice crackled to life over the radio. “We’re gonna get ready to send the trackers out soon. You should get better data on the iPad when we do!” 

“Alright, we’ll be ready when you are!” Rhett responded into the handheld device.

A wave of fear ebbed through you, cold and icy, as if you’d just been plunged into a bath of frigid water. With each passing moment, the sky became more foreboding. The fields surrounding you were churning, wind rippling through the stalks of green. 

Your heart rate picked up in your chest as you watched it blow in, angry clouds moving across the sky like an ocean wave. The kind of wave that would drag you out to sea, straight to your demise. 

“Stay with me, honeybee,” came Rhett’s gentle urging. “It ain’t here yet. Need you t’ get your head in the game.”

“I-I’m okay,” you promised. 

“Trackers are airborne!” Zara exclaimed through the speaker.

Reality was beginning to set in. There was no turning back.

Eyes locked on the screen, it didn’t take long for new info to be fed through, a notification popping up at the top of the screen. Severe weather approaching.

You looked to the sky again, focusing on the way the clouds were moving, the direction the wind was blowing. Then you opened the truck window, sticking your hand out to feel the breeze. The air was humid, yet electric. There was no doubt that a storm was coming.

You began counting down in your head. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one. The first drop of rain slapped against your hand. Then another, and another. Quickly, you drew your arm back into the truck, jamming your finger against the button to close the window. 

Lightning splintered across the sky.

The rain fell harder, and within seconds, turned into a sheet of water, intense and heavy. Visibility dropped, and Rhett was quick to flip the headlights on, although it did little to illuminate the path ahead. 

“Here we go,” he breathed, voice trembling. 

Another notification came across the top of your screen. Tornado warning. Seek shelter immediately.

The rain gave way to hail, large pellets pattering against the truck. Your stomach dropped. Hands trembling, chest going tight.

“Okay darlin’. Need you to tell me where to drop the trailer,” Rhett urged.

The wind whipped against the truck, and you closed your eyes for a moment, pulling yourself together. You could do this.

It was difficult to see, but you did your best, eyeing the radar, glancing out the windows. Then you saw it. In the distance, amidst the wind and rain, a tornado was just touching down. With your heart in your throat, you leaned forward in your seat. You breathed deeply, closing out all the sounds around you. The roar of the wind, the rumble of the twister. 

You closed your eyes. Three, two, one. 

“Go right!” You cried. “If we wanna stay in its path, you need to get into that field!”

Without questioning you, Rhett veered to the right, directly into the cornfield beside you. You stared out the back window of the truck before you looked down at your radar again. “Keep going straight! We need to get a few hundred feet farther!”

Rhett slammed his foot against the gas, and the speedometer needle shot up, speed increasing with each passing moment. You reached out and grabbed the walkie-talkie, pressing the button and calling into the receiver, “Get ready! We’re about to drop the trailer!”

“Copy!” Came Finn’s voice, “we’ll be waitin’ for your green light!”

Letting out a trembling breath, you set the radio down, hand coming up to clutch the iPad in your lap, while your other hand shot up to hold onto the ceiling handle. The ground beneath the truck was uneven and choppy, and you were jostled about something fierce.

“C’mon, honey. We gettin’ close?!” Rhett called to you. 

“Almost!” 

His hands were clutching the wheel for dear life, knuckles white. His body was tense, shoulders drawn up toward his ears. Wild eyes glanced in the rearview mirror at the destruction that was quickly approaching. 

“Shit, it’s close,” he breathed, voice barely above a whisper. For a split second, he wondered if this was the most foolish decision he’d ever made. He wasn’t thinking about himself. He was thinking about you. If anything happened to you, he’d never forgive himself.

But now wasn’t the time to allow himself to be distracted by such things. Instead, he brought his full focus back to his driving, heart pounding in his chest, limbs vibrating with adrenaline. 

Then, your voice cut through the air, a desperate shout. “Now, Rhett!”

He slammed on the brakes, and you both lurched forward from the force. Gritting his teeth, he slapped his hand down against the control panel situated in the center console, hitting the button that activated the anchors on the trailer, sending them down into the soil. 

Then, he shoved his fingers into the button labeled release, and the hitch unfurled, detaching the trailer from the truck. The split second that it landed, Rhett thrust his foot against the gas pedal, mud and debris flying from beneath the spinning tires before the truck shot forward.

You snatched up the radio, eyes locked on the approaching tornado. It needed to be timed perfectly. The tanks needed to open up the second the twister was in range. As Rhett sped through the field, you held your breath, staring out the truck window, hand gripping the walkie so tight you thought it might shatter in your grasp.

It was coming. Closer, and closer, and closer. Wild and powerful, devouring everything in its path. Almost there, just a little bit further…

“NOW!” You yelled into the received. “NOW, NOW, NOW!”

“Copy!” Finn shouted back.

Rhett didn’t dare slow down. He kept going, determined to get you to a safe distance. He veered the steering wheel to the left, getting out of the path of the twister. As he drove, you watched, silently praying that the nitrogen would work. 

And then the vortex engulfed the trailer, and you squinted, but couldn’t see if it was working. You were so engrossed in the moment you didn’t even stop to let it register that you had finally faced your biggest fear. 

But Rhett saw it. He spared you a glance as he drove, and he saw not fear, but wonder in your eyes. For a moment, he was transported back to all those times you chased together. The excitement and adrenaline you shared. Nothing could top that. 

Despite the danger that was quite literally hurtling toward you both as he drove, he couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face. Oh, how he’d missed this.

“It’s not working!” Jeslyn’s voice suddenly  cut through the speaker. “You two better get outta there, twister took some tanks with it and they’ll probably hit you guys if you stay in that field!”

Rhett grabbed the walkie. “I’m gettin’ us out. We’ll catch up with you guys!” 

He floored it, truck rocking as it raced through the field. “Hold on!” He told you. 

You clenched your jaw, bracing yourself. But that was nearly impossible, and you still felt your ribs collide painfully with the side of the door. At that point, you weren’t even watching the twister, you were merely trying not to get your head knocked against the window. 

You put your trust in Rhett to get you both to safety. And, much to your relief, he did just that.

Minutes later, the truck shot out onto the main road, and he kept going, headed east, out of the storm’s path. Once he was certain that he was far enough out, he stopped the truck, tires screeching against wet asphalt. 

As he threw the gear into park, he shoved the door open and jumped out. After taking a moment to catch your breath, you quickly unbuckled your seat belt and put the iPad on the dashboard before you climbed out of the truck after Rhett. 

You jogged over to him, where he stood near the truck’s tailgate, watching the tornado in the distance. It seemed that it was true. The nitrogen hadn’t done a single thing to tame the beast. But Rhett found that he didn’t care about that. Not when you were standing there beside him, alive and safe.

“Damn, those tanks didn’t do anything,” you mumbled in disappointment.

He shook his head. “I don’t give a shit about the nitrogen,” he said plainly.

You looked at him in confusion. “Why not?”

“Because, look at yourself! Y’did it, girl! You chased down a fuckin’ twister!”

It was then that you realized what had happened. You hadn’t run away. You hadn’t let your trauma stop you in your tracks again. You put your nose to the grindstone and you conquered that deeply rooted fear that had been festering inside you for the last six years of your life.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, eyes wide in disbelief. “I…I did it. I actually did it!”

Rhett laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. “I knew you could do it. I knew it!”

You leapt forward, throwing your arms around his neck, and his own arms came up to encircle your waist. He spun you both around, all while rain and wind whipped around you. None of that mattered. And as he slowed to a stop, still holding you close, once again, you were the only two people in the entire world.

Your arms lowered, hands resting against his chest, which was rising and falling rapidly, heart racing like a hummingbird. You gazed into his face, so handsome and strong, so familiar and kind, and you knew that you would never leave him behind again.

You weren’t sure who moved first. Maybe both of you did at the same exact time. Either way, you were leaning in without another moment of hesitation, pulled even closer together by that invisible string of fate. And this time, you let it tie you together as one.

You tilted your head back, and he leaned in, his lips mere inches from yours. Your eyes fluttered shut, anticipation mounting as he ducked forward. Oh so gently, his lips connected with yours, and you melted into him. Just for a moment, the grief, stress, pain, denial; it was all washed away, replaced with a feeling of all-consuming warmth.

What started out as a tender, tentative kiss blossomed into so much more. Heat sparked between you, the beginnings of what would soon turn into a wildfire. His big hands came up to cup your cheeks as he deepened the kiss, pouring all of his heart into the action.

Your veins fizzed as if you were made of stardust and champagne. If you were a firework, you would be exploding across the sky in a million different colors. 

This was what it had always felt like to kiss him. A memory you had nearly forgotten until now. Sizzling and desperate, gentle and sweet. Neither of you had any desire to pull away, but your lungs said otherwise, and you were forced to part, breathing labored.

His pupils were blown wide, nearly swallowing the blue of his irises. 

A sob tore its way from your throat as you spoke. “I love you, Rhett. I love you so goddamn much. I never stopped.”

His chest heaved, and his mouth parted, silent words coming out before he could muster the strength to form them into syllables. “I love you too, honeybee. More ‘an I ever loved anyone in my whole life.”

You didn’t bother wiping away the tears that were pouring down your cheeks. “I’m sorry I left. I’m never leaving you again, you hear me? I’m yours forever.”

Unshed tears glimmered in his own eyes. He was too overwhelmed with emotion to utter a response, but that was okay. The only response you needed was him surging forward to kiss you again, tears and rain mixing as your lips met.

Finally, you were done running. 

When you parted again, you were made aware of how quiet it had become. You looked up to realize the storm had passed, and the twister was gone. The hum of approaching vehicles drew your attention to the road, where you were made aware of the rest of the team pulling up.

Rhett didn’t let you go, choosing to keep an arm around your waist as he turned to greet everyone. You felt as if you were on cloud nine, despite the slightly grim looks of your friends. 

“You guys alright?” Zara asked as she hopped out of the F150, boots crunching against the ground. 

“Yeah, we’re just fine,” came Rhett’s response.

“We stopped to check on the trailer,” Finn piped up, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “That thing held up pretty well. Twister dragged it across the field but believe it or not it’s still in working order.”

“No shit?” Rhett was surprised.

“Yeah. Tanks went flying, though. We’re gonna have to see if we can find ‘em so they don’t end up sitting in some farmer’s field.”

“We can help look for ‘em all. Gotta figure out how to secure those better next time.”

“I think we also need to try something else. Maybe see if we can add some more nitrogen tanks,” said Jeslyn.

“How the hell are we gonna do that? There’s no room left on that trailer,” Danny interjected, lifting a hand to run through his silvery locks.

“Well, maybe we can bring in a second trailer,” she suggested. 

Danny sighed. “Okay, but how many more tanks of nitrogen will we need? We’ve gotta calculate all of it. Go back to OU and do some more tests before we just come out here blindly.” It was clear that he was irritated. “Besides, how do we even know if it’s gonna work? Feels like we’re fighting a fuckin’ losing battle here.”

“Hey,” Zara spoke, her voice clear and hopeful. “We’ll figure it out. We need to tweak some things, and that’s fine. No big deal.”

“Yeah, but how many more things can we tweak? We don’t have the budget for this shit, Zar. We’re just bleeding money at this point.” 

“Okay, let’s just take a breather,” came Rhett’s interruption. The two of you had simply been observing, waiting for the group to settle their own argument. But it was clear that tensions were mounting and needed to be diffused. “Look, it’s lunch time, why don’t we stop by the closest town, get somethin’ to eat, and put our heads together so we can figure all this out.”

Finn’s posture fell, and he nodded. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go.” He was already turning to head back to the RV.

“You’re right,” Zara agreed with Rhett. And then, for the first time in the last few minutes, she seemed to finally notice you, and she mustered a smile. “Hey, you did it! That took guts.”

You ducked your head sheepishly. “Thanks.”

“Really, it’s awesome. I’m proud of you,” Jeslyn echoed her wife’s sentiments, reaching out to pat you on the shoulder. 

Their encouragement meant a lot to you, and you accepted it gratefully, struck with a sense of belonging. A comradery. You were truly part of the team now. And it felt good.

“We’ll follow you?” Zara nodded toward Rhett, and he nodded. 

“Yeah, Phillips is the closest town. We can stop off there an’ eat.”

“Sounds good!” 

As everyone climbed back into their vehicles, you breathed out a sigh, catching Rhett’s eye. He reached for you, pulling you to him. “They’ll figure things out. They always do,” he murmured. 

“Yeah, I’m sure they will,” you agreed. He opened the passenger door for you, and you climbed into the seat, settling in as he rounded the truck and got into his own seat. 

As he put his seatbelt on, he looked at you, and his cheeks rounded as his lips curved into a smile. He couldn’t believe how quickly everything had changed. Suddenly, he felt like a lovesick teenager. The feelings that he had tried to repress for so long were finally allowed to come to the surface. Rhett never had been the most expressive person, but he simply couldn’t wipe the look of elation off his face as he drove toward the next town over.

The missing half of his heart had returned.

The ride into town was blanketed with comfortable silence. You could see in the horizon that another storm was rolling in, and as you took a gander at the radar, you saw that a string of storms would be hitting the area later that day, and into the night. 

You hoped the team wasn’t planning on going after any of them. After what you had just gone through, you were utterly drained, and weren’t even sure if you could handle another adrenaline rush.

Much to your relief, the afternoon was relaxed. You stopped to eat at an old family diner, where you ordered some comfort food and allowed yourself a moment of respite. Everyone else was discussing the plan moving forward, trying to figure out if an extra addition of nitrogen tanks would be effective enough to actually stop a twister.

Despite your background in weather science, you didn’t contribute much to the conversation, because you were content to just listen. But you were struck with an idea as Zara and Finn went back and forth across the table, trying to figure out the next course of action. 

“I just thought of something,” you said. “It might be a long shot, because there really isn’t that much research out there to support it, but what if, instead of just nitrogen, you added some CO₂ tanks to the mix? It might drop the air temp even faster. But, again, could just be a crazy idea on my part.”

Zara shook her head, dark curls escaping her bun and tumbling against her forehead. She hastily shoved the strands behind her ear. “No, no, that’s actually not a bad idea,” she agreed. “Back when we started testing out the nitrogen we did talk about using CO₂ but ended up deciding nitrogen was better. I dunno why we never considered using the two together, though. It might work!”

“It’s worth a try,” Jeslyn agreed, arms folded against her chest, her back slouched against her seat. 

“If we’re gonna do this, we’ve only got one more shot,” Danny said, expression grim. “We got lucky with the nitro tanks, what with my uncle working at the nitrogen plant. But he can only get us so much at a discount before we gotta start paying full price. That shit is expensive. We can’t afford to pay full price.”

“Then we supplement CO₂ tanks in between, so we don’t have to get as much nitrogen,” Finn suggested as he leaned over the table, motioning with his hands for emphasis while he spoke. 

“Yeah, but even if we use less nitrogen, it’s still pricey. We can’t afford to go into debt with this. I can’t, anyway. We need funding for this project, and the only way we’re gonna get it is if it actually works. Which means next time we go out there, we better actually stop a twister, or it was all for nothing.”

“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do,” Zara finally announced. “We’ll go with your idea to test out CO₂ along with the nitrogen. Danny’s right, we don’t have the finances to keep buying nitrogen, especially at full price. So, we’ve gotta hope like hell that this next chase we go on is the one the experiment works on. Otherwise we’ll have to try to figure out how to get funding another way, and I just don’t think we’ll be able to.”

“So that means the next time we go chasing, it could be the last time,” Finn concluded.

Zara sighed. “Yeah, it could. At least the last time trying this experiment.”

“Pressure’s on now, isn’t it?” Jeslyn sighed, hazel eyes downcast.

“It’ll work,” Rhett said from beside you, offering his vote of confidence. He looked at Zara and Jeslyn. “If anyone can make it happen, it’s you two. Jus’ work your genius magic and we’ll be fine.”

The girls smiled at his encouragement. However, it was clear that everyone was tired of talking science, and the table soon faded into silence as all of you finished your respective meals. Another storm was rolling in outside, turning the sky dark again. 

Rhett glanced out at the sky as everyone stood and began readying themselves to leave the diner. “We should get goin’ before the storm hits. Might turn into another twister,” he remarked, wary of the incoming clouds.

You certainly didn’t want to be caught in another tornado, so leaving right away sounded rather appealing to you. You were quick to leave a tip for your waitress on the table, along with everyone else’s contribution, before you made your way toward the register to pay for your meal in full.

“I’ve got it,” Rhett spoke to you, stepping into your path, already sliding his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans.

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you protested, holding up your hand to decline.

“Nope, s’my treat. Think of it as a li’l reward for chasin’ that twister.”

Who were you to deny him? With a shy smile, you relented, allowing him to pay for your meal. When he was done, you walked out of the diner, side by side, a feeling of peace settling within your heart. He opened the passenger door of the truck for you, and you swore you felt butterflies flutter to life in your belly. 

Nothing could ever take the charm out of the cowboy.

As you set off back toward the Abbott farm, the weather remained steady, rain cascading from the sky. You were grateful that the worst of it seemed to be behind you. It allowed you to relax in the cab of Rhett’s truck, cozy and safe.

You found yourself growing sleepy partway through, and you ended up with your head resting upon his shoulder. Beside you, he couldn’t ignore the surge of comforting warmth that traveled through his body. This felt so right. As if you were a missing piece to the puzzle, now comfortably slotted against him, in the exact place you were always meant to be.

He wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but during that drive home, he did travel quite a few miles under the speed limit, just to lengthen the tender moment. He was committing it to memory, every last second, because that was one thing he hadn’t done when you were together before.

He hadn’t lived in the moment as much as he should have. And when you left, that was one of his biggest regrets. Now that he’d been given an opportunity to make up for lost time, he wasn’t going to squander a single moment of it.

But eventually, he did turn into the Abbott driveway, tires crunching against wet dirt and gravel. And as the truck came to a stop, you were jarred from your slumber. With a soft hum, you lifted your head from his shoulder, squinting as you realized where you were.

“Welcome back to the land of the livin’,” Rhett teased.

“Wow, guess I was more tired than I thought,” came your groggy reply. 

“Chasin’ twisters’ll do that to a body,” he agreed.

As you stretched your arms out in front of you, you gazed out the windows. The rain had slowed, sleepy tip-tap-tips splashing against the glass. 

“Guess we should go inside,” you mumbled. 

“Guess we should.”

A beat passed. And then another. Finally, you let out a sigh and slid across the seat, wrenching open the door. Rhett followed suit, and you both hurried into the house, eager to stay dry. 

“Oh, thank the Lord!” Cecilia’s voice rang out from the kitchen as she rushed out to meet you. Her face was stricken. “You two scared me half to death! What are you thinkin’, not answerin’ your phone, boy?!” 

Rhett’s eyes widened, and he patted his pocket for his phone, retrieving it only to realize that it was completely dead. “Shit, ‘m sorry, Mom, I didn’t even think,” he was quick to apologize. 

“I thought for sure somethin’ had happened to you! I was worried sick, expecting a call from the sheriff tellin’ me you got yourselves killed!” She motioned wildly with her arms, tendrils of short brown hair falling from behind her ear and into her face. 

Her reaction was perfectly reasonable, considering all she’d lost. 

“Hey, hey, we’re alright,” Rhett assured her, tone low and even. He reached out, placing his hand on her shoulder. “We’re safe, nothin’ happened to us. Jus’ didn’t realize my phone was dead.”

You offered support, moving to squeeze her hand. “Yeah, we’re all good. Still in one piece.”

The woman nodded solemnly, placing her restless hands on her hips. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re fine. Of course you’re fine. I’m sorry, I just…I lost my head for a bit there when we got home from church and I heard about the twister that hit near Coalgate. I thought…” 

She trailed off, unable to voice it. 

“S’okay, Ma. I’ll make sure my phone is charged next time, that way y’ can get a hold of me.”

Cecilia managed a smile. “Good. I’ll, uh, I’ll try not to act so hysterical about it next time.”

“You aren’t being hysterical,” you told her. “You’ve got every right to worry.”

“Uncle Rhett?!” Suddenly, Amy’s voice cut through the tension in the air, and the nine-year-old came rushing down the steps, her golden hair flying behind her shoulders. 

Rhett turned just in time as the girl threw herself into his arms. He caught her with ease, lifting her off the ground. “Gramma said somethin’ might’ve happened! I was so scared!” She exclaimed. 

“Hey now, nothin’ to be scared about. I’m fine,” he promised his niece, leaning back to brush her hair away from her face. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere, Ames. You’re stuck with me.”

She managed a giggle as he tapped her nose. “Good. I’m glad you’re alright.”

You watched the tender moment, and you couldn’t help the tears that welled in your eyes. He was so good with her. 

When he finally let her go, he stepped back toward you, and you found yourself instinctively slotting yourself against his side in search of his safety and warmth. 

Amy caught on immediately, and her face broke into the biggest grin you’d ever seen. “You are in love!”

This time, you grinned right back at her and said, “We sure are.”

As she jumped up and down and said, “I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!” you looked at Rhett. There was this beautiful fondness in his eyes that you never wanted to forget as long as you lived. 

“You two want any hot cocoa?” Cecilia asked, a twinkle in her eyes, as if she’d always known you and Rhett would get back together. Perhaps it was mother’s intuition.

“Yeah, that sounds really good, actually,” you agreed.

“Ooh, can we put the colorful marshmallows in it?!” Amy inquired, hope in her voice.

“If you can find ‘em in the pantry!” Her grandmother told her, at which the girl scurried into the kitchen without missing a beat, eager to find the dyed confections.

As the pair busied themselves in the kitchen, you ducked out of Rhett’s embrace to take your damp shoes off. He followed suit, placing his boots on the rack near the door, lest his mother be frustrated with him for leaving them on the floor.

You ambled further into the coziness of the house, taking a seat on the tan upholstered couch that stood in front of the windows. The couch that converted into a bed for Rhett to sleep in each night. 

“Is the mattress in this thing comfortable?” You asked as you settled in. 

Rhett hummed, shrugging as he retrieved the old quilt from the back of the couch. “Yeah, I sleep fine on it.”

But surely it wasn’t as comfortable as his own bed. The one you had the luxury of sleeping in for the duration of your stay.

You could invite him to join you. 

Was that being too forward? After all, you’d only just rekindled your romance. Was inviting him to sleep in the same bed as you moving too fast? Or would it be like simply resuming where you’d left off. When you were together before, you’d spent more time in his bed than your own. Being with him in his childhood home felt like a safe haven. 

It still felt like that. Though, he was part of what made it feel like home. Without him here, it was just a house. A mere building. But bring him into the picture, and there was warmth, safety, and security. 

And that was why you thought about inviting him into bed with you that night. You yearned to feel the comfort of being wrapped in his arms as you slept. 

Dare you ask him to join you in bed that night?

“Do you guys want whipped cream?” Amy abruptly called from the kitchen, jarring you from your thoughts. 

“Please!” Rhett responded. You echoed his answer, letting out a breath as you shook your thoughts of longing away. 

He took a seat beside you, spreading the quilt he’d just grabbed over both your and his laps. Immediately, you were surrounded by warmth, and you let yourself sink back into the couch cushions, breathing a sigh of relief as the tension you carried began to slowly melt away. 

“Y’alright?” He asked, cadence low. “Been an eventful day.”

“I’ll say,” you agreed. “I’m okay. Just tired from the adrenaline crash.”

His knee bumped against your own. He left it there. “I know I already said it, but I’m proud of ya. I know facin’ that twister wasn’t easy.”

“Well, I know climbing back on a bull wasn’t easy for you, so I guess we’re even.”

He hummed, nodding his head. “Guess we are.”

Moments later, Amy and Cecilia entered the living room with mugs of hot chocolate, and soon, the four of you were huddled around the coffee table, enjoying the sweet, chocolaty drink as the rain continued on outside.

You let your walls down and embraced the domesticity of it all. For once, your body wasn’t in fight or flight mode, and you felt at ease. You could get used to this. 

When it came time to prepare dinner, you volunteered to help Cecilia, but after she learned that you’d endured a tornado chase, she insisted that you rest. 

“You’ve had enough activity for one day, hon. Y’ should take it easy,” she told you. 

This left you to sit on the hardwood floor of the home office, with Amy across from you and Rhett beside you, a jigsaw puzzle littering the space between you. You were quite enjoying watching his large hands put each small, fragile piece into place with such precision and care. 

He was so beautiful like this. Comfortable. At ease in his home, with his family. A life you had once dreamed of living with him. And now, you supposed it had become a dream of yours once more. 

You could see yourself in the future. A quaint little home, just the two of you. A simple, happy life. 

And that’s when you knew. Sitting there, watching him work on a puzzle on the floor, you knew everything was about to change. Your life was forever intertwined with his now, and you would be his until death did you part. 

That thought didn’t scare you. It filled you with so much hope, rising up inside you like water from a babbling brook. It was a beautiful feeling.

Later that evening, as you sat around the dinner table, you were beside him, shoulders touching, stealing glances at each other throughout the meal. Things felt lighter now. The tension was gone. 

“You two finally quit beatin’ around the bush?” Royal asked. His expression was neutral, but his eyes swam with humor.

Rhett squeezed your knee under the table. “Yeah. We did.”

“Good,” the older man said, nodding in approval. “She’s a good one, like your ma is. Don’t lose ‘er this time.”

The man beside you let his mouth quirk into a soft smile. “I won’t.”

“He’s stuck with me,” you agreed, placing your hand over his, which still rested upon your knee.

Soon after, when supper was finished, and the dishes washed, you found yourself in the living room again, curled up on the couch with Rhett by your side. Amy pleaded with her grandmother to let her stay up just a little later, despite her early wake-up call for school the next day, as she wanted to watch a movie with you and Rhett.

Cecilia made the exception, and it wasn’t long before the opening credits of Treasure Planet were playing. One of Amy’s favorites, Rhett informed you. But as the movie went on, you found your mind traveling elsewhere, hardly focused on the cartoon.

Instead, you were fixated on Rhett’s proximity. 

Your head was resting upon his shoulder again, and he was perfectly content with that. This felt more intimate than when you’d fallen asleep on him in the truck. Here, you were settled into the comfort of his home, cozy beneath a quilt that his mother had made many years ago.

It reminded him of the movie nights you would have when you were teenagers. You would trade off who picked the film, and he would often choose ones set in the horror genre, just so you’d have an excuse to hide your face in the crook of his neck during frightening scenes.

Here and now, curled up on the couch with you snuggled against his side, he was overcome with a surge of protectiveness. There was no doubt in his mind that he would do whatever he had to, just to keep you safe. 

“Looks like someone fell asleep.” Your whispered statement pulled him from his thoughts, and he glanced over at the floor near the television, where Amy had fallen asleep. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed. The movie was nearly over.

Rhett hummed. “Guess I should take ‘er up to bed,” he murmured. 

Reluctantly, he rose from the couch, instantly missing your warmth. Stretching his extremities, stiff from sitting for so long, he stepped across the rug covered floor and stooped to gather his niece into his arms. 

She barely stirred as he cradled her close. He had this down to a science now. He was always good at making sure he didn’t disturb her sleep whenever he had to carry her to bed. 

From the couch, you watch with fondness as he handled her gently. He took her upstairs, stepping into her room and laying her in her bed. When the covers were pulled over her, he ducked down to kiss her forehead before he crept back out of the room and shut the door behind him.

As he did so, the sound of thunder rumbling through the distant skies reached his ears. Yet another storm was blowing through, it seemed.

When he made his way back downstairs, he found you in the living room still, folding the quilt that had been strewn over your lap. He watched you for a moment, taking in the sight of you tidying up the room. Oh, how effortlessly beautiful you were. 

When you caught him staring, you ducked your head shyly. “Thought I’d make myself useful and clean up a bit,” you said.

“Mm,” he hummed, lashes fluttering.

The way he was looking at you took your breath away. “Did you, um, get Amy to bed alright?”

“Yeah, she’s still out like a light,” he told you. 

“Good. I love how she insisted on staying up later, and still fell asleep,” you responded with a good-natured smile. Kids were funny.

“She always does that,” he agreed, “an’ every time, I carry her upstairs.”

“You’re good with her. She loves you,” came your next statement, tone full of fondness.

Rhett ducked his head. “I love ‘er too. She’s a special li’l gal. Ever since Perry and Bec died…I dunno, I’ve just felt responsible for her.”

“Well, she’s lucky to have an uncle like you.”

His cheeks rounded as he smiled, and your heart clenched in your chest. He was truly so endearing.

A moment of silence passed. Then another. The air between you was heavy, as if both of you wanted to say something, but were hesitating. You knew what you wanted. It was right there, on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak it.

Another crack of thunder rolled outside, and you jumped slightly, caught off guard. This seemed to push you to speak. “Well, I…I guess I’ll head up to bed.”

You swore you saw disappointment flash in Rhett’s eyes, but it was gone within a split second. “Yeah. Yeah, ‘m sure you need the rest after the crazy day we had.”

“Uh-huh. I’m pretty beat.” You padded across the rug covered floor, your arm brushing against Rhett’s as you passed. As if on cue, a flash of lightning illuminated the house, followed by the loudest crash of thunder you’d ever heard. The force of it rattled the entire house.

Both of you jumped, and you found yourself surging into his arms on instinct, holding your breath as you waited for the residual rumbling to pass. When it was quiet, you looked at each other, and you began to laugh silently.

“Jump scared by thunder,” Rhett mused with a grin, “didn’t see that one comin’.”

Your hands rested atop his chest, where you could feel the quickness of his heart. “Me neither,” you agreed.

Slowly, your gaze flickered to meet his. His eyes narrowed slightly, and his mouth parted as he took in a breath. As another flash of lightning lit up your surroundings, something shifted between you. Warmth in your belly. Desire in your heart.

When your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, he knew what was going to happen. So did you. That was why you weren’t surprised with yourself in the least when you heard yourself say, “Do you, um…do you want to come upstairs?”

He leaned in, mouth just barely brushing against your own. “I do.” More than anything.

You let your eyes flutter shut as his lips captured yours. You swore, you knew exactly what it felt like to be a lightning bolt when he kissed you. Bright and alive, thrumming with raw energy.

“Please, I…” What were you asking for? Your tongue suddenly felt like lead in your mouth, and you couldn’t form syllables around it. 

Rhett sighed softly, his large hand coming up to rest upon the side of your neck. There, he felt your racing pulse, and his eyes widened. “I know, honeybee. It’s been so long, hasn’t it?” His tone was choked. Labored.

Your bottom lip quivered as you were suddenly so overcome with emotion you could hardly breathe. To your dismay, the only sound you could make in reply was a whimper. But, oh, if only you could have photographed the face Rhett made when he heard the sound.

His brow furrowed, and his jaw went slack. You swore his eyes grew darker. 

“C’mon, let’s get you upstairs.” He took your hand in his and led you slowly up the steps, your footfalls light so as not to alert the entire house of your movement.

With each moment, the closer you got to Rhett’s room, the faster your pulse raced. He guided you inside, carefully pushing the door shut behind you. You stood in the middle of the room as he moved to turn on the bedside lamp, swathing the room in a golden glow. 

You jumped slightly as yet another boom of thunder shook the ground, but Rhett was there within seconds, hand soothing along the expanse of your arm. He hooked his index finger beneath your chin, prompting you to look at him.

“Y’ want me to stop, just say the word, and I will.”

But you didn’t want him to stop. “O-okay.”

He kissed you again, languidly, lovingly, but with the mounting intensity of the storm outside, as well as the one currently brewing between you, it soon grew into something more. You parted your lips and allowed his tongue into your mouth, tasting each other.

Your hands rested upon his solid chest, and his own settled on your hips as he eased you back toward the wall. When you came in contact with the solidity behind you, you gasped. 

You were cornered, surrounded by him, his scent, his body heat. He invaded your every sense. And when his hands came up to rest against the wall at either side of your head, you felt so protected. 

His chest heaved slightly against yours, and he closed his eyes, gathering himself before he leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Then the edge of your jaw. Down, down, down, to your collarbone. The bite of his day-old stubble against your flesh made you shudder, and you felt goosebumps raise in his wake. 

Tongue and teeth oh so gently grazed your pulse point, and he buried his face there, breathing in your scent. How was it that you still smelled the exact same after all this time? It wasn’t just your perfume. It was your entire chemical makeup, a scent so intoxicating it made him weak in the knees. 

“Can I take this off?” He asked, cadence low, fingers curling into the hem of your shirt. 

“Please.”

He lifted the fabric, tugging it off of you as you lifted your arms to allow him to remove it entirely. He took in the sight of you, in just your bra. You expected to find hunger in his eyes, and it was there, but there was something else. Deep adoration. Reverence. It made you feel as if you were going to dissolve into stardust. 

Feeling much too clothed, he decided to join you, leaning back to yank his shirt off, letting the fabric fall to the floor in a heap. 

In the lowlight, you caught sight of the tattoo of a bull and rider inked into the skin of his chest. Lovingly, you brought your fingers up to trace over it. You remembered so vividly the day he got it. You were there with him. 

Silently, you leaned forward, kissing the artwork. His breath caught in his lungs, and his lashes fluttered. You used to kiss that tattoo all the time. Especially when you were riding him. 

And then your tongue darted out to trace it, and he audibly gasped. Moments later he was pulling your face toward his again, kissing you deeply, desperately, teeth grazing your bottom lip. 

You were both a little frenzied as you pulled at each other’s remaining clothing. You unbuckled Rhett’s belt and he glanced down to watch you tug his jeans down his legs. Once he’d kicked them to the side, leaving him in a pair of blue boxers, he unbuttoned your own jeans, gazing up at you as he guided the denim toward your ankles. 

He squeezed your calf, and you lifted one leg, then the other, to step out of the pants. The only thing keeping you from being entirely exposed to him was the thin fabric of your underwear. 

You watched through hazy eyes as he began to kiss up your leg and along your inner thigh, palms resting upon your hips. When he made it to your underwear, he looked right at you as he kissed your clothed pussy, at which you moaned breathlessly. 

“Wan’ see this sweet li’l pussy. Will you let me see her, darlin’?” His accent had grown deeper with the rasp of his voice. It swam through your head and sent shockwaves through your extremities. 

“Y-yes.” You weren’t sure how you found it in yourself to speak. 

“Yeah?” Cautiously, he began pulling the underwear down your legs. Slow, slow, slow, all the way down until he reached your ankles. Once you stepped out of them, he was finally greeted with the sight of you. 

Deft fingers came up to part your delicate folds, touch featherlight as he began to explore. He was pleasantly surprised to find that you were already soaking wet. 

“Can’t tell ya how much I missed this. How much I thought about you the last few years,” he admitted before he leaned toward you, running his nose along your inner thigh before he left another kiss to your now bare cunt. 

Your knees nearly buckled, and he’d barely touched you. 

“You…you have?”

“Uh-huh.” His tongue darted out to taste you, and his eyes flickered shut. He’d be the first to admit that he’d conjured up images of you when his hand was wrapped around his aching cock. Your softness, your pretty sounds, the feeling of your slick warmth around him. He’d spill his release against his lower belly as he moaned your name into the confines of his bedroom. 

“I-I’ve thought about you too,” came your confession. Your head was spinning. 

“Oh really? You touched this pretty cunt while thinkin’ of me?”

“God, yes.”

Hearing you admit it had him twitching with need within the confines of his boxers. What he wouldn’t give to be inside you again. 

“S’much as I wanna eat you until you come all over my face, I think I need t’ be inside ya. Been too long.”

He rose to his feet, and he grasped your wrist, bringing your hand between his legs. You gasped at the feeling of his hardness. Had you forgotten just how thick he was? 

As he kissed you again, you eagerly dipped your hand past the waistband of his underwear. When your fingers curled around his shaft, he grunted in surprise against your mouth. 

Stroking him lightly, you took the opportunity to lavish affection on him, kissing along his jaw and neck as his cock grew even harder in your hand. Burying your face against the side of his neck, you took a moment to fully immerse yourself in the moment. 

This was real. You were here. In the very bedroom where you’d given yourself to each other for the first time. Now, you were together again, giving yourselves to each other not for the first time, but for the last time. Not because it would never happen again, but because this was the moment that you were acknowledging that you were it for one another. A way of pledging yourself to him, a silent promise that there would never be anyone else. 

It was you and him, for the rest of your lives. 

“Take me to bed, baby,” you whispered against the feverish column of his throat. 

How could he deny you? 

With one arm holding you close, he guided you to the bed. But then he paused, brow furrowing. “Didn’t think this through,” he murmured. “The both of us ain’t gon’ fit on that bed.”

“We’ll fit fine, it’ll just be a tight squeeze,” you replied. 

But he shook his head. “Nah. The way I wan’ lay you out and fuck you? I need more space than that.” 

His words sent a shudder through you, but you still managed a playful quip in return. “Then what do ya propose, cowboy?” 

“One sec.”

Then, he went around the room, gathering all the quilts from the rack on the other side of the room. He even yanked the covers off of the bed. You watched in amusement as he spread everything out on the floor, creating a makeshift bed, complete with pillows. It appeared to be a very cozy setup.

As soon as the last pillow was put in place, he straightened to his full height, gaze falling upon you once again. He reached for you, and you let him reel you in, guiding you toward him until your body was pressed against his. 

His eyes reminded you of a feline’s, narrow and sharp. The warmth of desire glowed within them, drawing you in, sending shivers down your spine. With a loving kiss, he whispered, “Lay down for me, honeybee.”

Your mouth went dry, and your breath came out raggedly. But you complied, dropping to your knees and crawling toward the pillows, where you then laid your head. You watched, chest constricting, as Rhett pulled his boxers down his legs and tossed them aside.

His cock, hard and heavy, bobbed between his thighs, and you audibly whimpered. You had forgotten how thick he was. The memory of what it felt like to be filled by him flashed through your mind. The delicious stretch. The utter fullness.

Above you, he wrapped his hand around his shaft, stroking lightly as he stepped toward you. Then he knelt, and you still couldn’t tear your eyes away from that gorgeous cock. 

“Look at me.” Quiet, yet commanding. Your eyes snapped up to his. “You gon’ let me make love to you, baby?” His hand traveled along your thigh, coming closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“Y-yes,” you peeped.

He smiled knowingly. “Need it so bad, don’t ya?” His voice was barely contained, trembling as he moved to hover over you. “I do too.” His fingers slid over your dripping center, and you gasped softly as they circled your little gathering of nerves.

Rhett moaned when he felt you pulse beneath his touch. As he dipped two of his fingers inside you, his mouth explored your chest, biting at the sensitive skin of your breast before he swirled his tongue around one pert nipple. 

You whined as his mouth latched onto the sensitive bud, your hand coming up to thread through his dark locks. You hadn't realized how turned you were until that very moment. But you could feel it now, dripping around his fingers as you clenched around them.

"Rhett, please, I-" You didn’t know what you were asking for. Your mind was swimming. Hazy.

Hearing your pitiful begging had him looking up at you expectantly.

"What do you want, darlin’?" 

"You. I need you. I-I can’t…I don’t…please, just…" God, you were spiraling with need.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” he soothed, tongue licking into your mouth before he slipped his fingers out of you. 

You watched as wrapped his lips around the digits and sucked your desire off them. Your own mouth fell open at the salacious sight. 

“Mm, tastes just as good as I remember.”

He was hovering over you again, bracing himself with his hands against the floor. His gaze was so intense, but you couldn’t look away. When you felt his hard cock against your inner thigh, you shivered in anticipation.

“Honey, I…I don’t have any condoms,” he admitted, voice wrecked.

Maybe it was foolish of you, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. Not when you were so close to having him inside you, skin to skin, after going so long without. You wrapped your arms around his neck and said, “I don’t care. Take me raw.”

Rhett grunted, jaw tightening, lashes fluttering as his pupils dilated. “Fuck. You’re gon’ be the death of me.”

You let your legs fall further apart, giving him full and complete access. But he hesitated, and you could see the wheels turning in his head. “Hold on a minute. I’ve got somethin’ that might be helpful.” 

He moved over you, toward his nightstand. Curiously, you watched as he rummaged through the drawer, and moments later, he held up a bottle of lube. 

“Thought I still had some of this.” He made his way back over to you, situating himself on his knees before you. “Wan’ make sure you can take it without me hurtin’ you.”

You watched as he carefully poured some of the lubricant onto his palm, and your breath hitched when he brought his hand down to his cock, coating it fully. In the soft glow of the lamp above, it glimmered on his skin. 

But he wasn’t finished yet. He poured more of the liquid into his hand, warming it before he lovingly smoothed it over your pussy, prepping you further. 

Then he knelt between your parted legs again, and your heart fluttered in your chest as he aligned himself with you. He slid through your delicate folds once, twice, then let his tip catch against your entrance, drawing a gasp of desire from you. 

When he began to roll his hips forward, your back arched, and you squeezed your eyes shut, relishing in every last second. Inch by inch, he slipped inside you. Arms braced near either side of your head, he held himself steady, grunting lowly as your velvety walls enveloped him. 

As he bottomed out, he let his head fall to your shoulder, where he remained for a few moments, gaining his composure. 

He couldn’t speak. If he tried, he knew his voice would fail him. He’d been rendered utterly speechless as he let it all sink in. This was real. He was here, now, on the floor of his childhood bedroom, with you laid bare beneath him.

For a few moments, you were both still, adjusting to the feeling of him inside you. Tears pricked behind your eyelids, and you focused on breathing deeply. For the first time in a very long time, you felt at peace. Here, joined as one with him. 

He lifted his head from your shoulder and kissed you softly before he broke the silence. “Y’ready?” He asked. Breathless. 

Whining softly, you nodded. “Y-you can move.”

Another kiss was left against the corner of your mouth before he slowly pulled his hips back, inch by inch, before rolling them forward again. You let out a broken moan, suddenly so overwhelmed by him. He swallowed the sound, mouth open against yours as he drew back again, only to fill you up all over again. Your chest heaved. The tears in your eyes finally made their way down your cheeks.

The drag of his thick cock was so slow it was almost not enough, yet too much all at once. You could only focus on him. His comforting warmth, his familiar scent, the pleasured sounds rumbling deep within his chest. 

Outside, the wind and rain wreaked havoc, but inside, you were safe, shielded by your lover, lost in the way he made you feel. You didn’t realize how much you’d truly missed him until this very moment. It hit you all at once, like a kick to the stomach, knocking the air out of your lungs.

Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, burying your face against the crook of his neck as he moved. You breathed him in. Earthy, musky, and so familiar. You wished to bottle up his scent so you could have it with you forever.

“Missed y’so much,” Rhett spoke, voice trembling. He leaned back so he could look fully into your face. When he saw your tear streaked face, he lifted his hand and lovingly wiped the tears away with his fingers. “Can’t believe you’re in m’ arms again.”

Then he was kissing you deeply as he picked up the pace of his thrusts, causing you to moan brokenly into his mouth at the feeling. You threw your head back as he built a rhythm. Back and forth, faster and deeper. You felt so indescribably full. He didn’t want to ruin that closeness, so he kept his movements contained, barely pulling his hips back, moving in a pulsing motion. 

He was so deep that you could feel every ridge and vein of his cock, creating this wonderfully delicious friction within you. It took your breath away and made your head spin all at once. 

You let your eyes fall shut and you whimpered as he kept rutting into you, stretching you, fulfilling your needs in ways you never could have imagined. This felt right. Your bodies joined as one. One soul. One heart. 

“You feel so good,” you breathed, unashamed of the tears still streaming down your cheeks. “So good.”

Rhett could hardly utter a reply. He was breathless, his ever sense overwhelmed by you. Nothing else mattered. Here, on his bedroom floor, with you laid out so beautifully beneath him, he didn’t have a care in the world but you.

Again, he leaned back to watch you, in awe of the way you shivered and gasped, your body responding to him, releasing more of your slick around his cock. It sent a crackle of arousal through the base of his spine, and he pulsed inside you. You squeaked softly at the feeling, tightening around him.

He couldn’t resist stealing a glance at the place where your bodies met. His mouth fell open, eyes nearly rolling back. The sight of you stretched around him sent a jolt through him. “Takin’ me so well,” he sighed out. “Like you were always made to.”

You pulled his face back to you, urging him to meet your gaze. “I-I was,” you whispered in agreement. “I was made for you.”

“Yeah?” His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “You’re mine. Always will be.”

You tugged him toward you to kiss him again. “All yours.” 

With one hand braced against the floor, he brought his other down between your bodies, fingers locating your swollen little button, so sensitive to his touch. You whined out his name, back arching off the floor. He purposed in himself that he was going to make you come before he ever did, because he wanted to feel the way your sweet pussy fluttered and clenched around him as you fell apart.

The sound you made as he swirled his fingers against you was music to his ears. The sweetest whimper he’d ever heard.

He kissed your tears away, a loving gesture that only served to bring even more tears down your cheeks. 

As you looked up at him, you were overcome. It hit you like a ton of bricks, knocking the wind right out of you. You brought your trembling hands to his face, cupping his cheeks, committing every part of him to memory. 

The love you felt for him was so deep, so intense, that you couldn’t put it into words. All you could do was cry. And you did. 

He lowered his head, forehead resting against your own. He slowed down his pace just a little, and it made you feel impossibly closer to him. “Shh, I’m right here,” he soothed. “Don’t need t’cry, honeybee.”

“I-I-I just…I can’t believe I get a second chance with you.”

It was his turn to grow overcome with emotion. His eyes fluttered, and he let out a soft breath, nuzzling his nose against yours. “I know,” he whispered. His mouth was on yours, kissing you delicately, encasing you in love and devotion. 

His hand had stilled between your legs, but he soon resumed his movements, fingers swirling as he kissed you. How was it that you could feel such deep emotion and pleasure all at once? It felt as if your body might explode into millions of stars from it all. 

You wished that you were more eloquent. That you could find the words to tell him how you truly felt. But it seemed as if he already knew what was in your heart. Because it was in his, too. That all consuming love that he’d always had for you. Something that would never die. 

Everything had taken on a new meaning. This wasn’t just the two of you making love on his bedroom floor. It was the joining of two wandering souls as one. And you gave yourself to him as he kissed you. Pouring every part of yourselves into that kiss.

You felt as if you might float away. And yet, there Rhett was, anchoring you, keeping you tethered to the earth. To him. 

Beyond you both, thunder once again rolled across the night sky, your only reminder of the danger that lingered just beyond the walls of the Abbott home. It didn’t matter. None of it did. Not when you were sighing, trembling, weeping in his arms. Baring all the intimate parts of yourself to him. 

You were climbing toward that peak now. Even as your tears fell and you cried softly against his mouth, a familiar, enticing heat had begun to spread through your lower abdomen. 

Subtle at first, but soon, it began to spread throughout your extremities. From the top of your head to the soles of your feet. Rhett could feel it, too. The way you tightened and gushed around him. 

“Oh, honey,” he sighed. “You’re close, ain’t ya?”

At which you nodded, bottom lip quivering. 

“Poor thing. Don’t worry, I’ll get you there.” 

You let him take control entirely. You both realized that although you’d been apart for so long, he still knew your body well. For him, it felt like getting right back in the saddle. Natural. Comfortable. 

When he moved to switch positions, you let him, trusting him without question. He was gentle as he guided you up and into his lap, still nestled snugly inside you as he settled onto his knees. 

You were face to face, chest to chest, hip to hip. Now, as he held you in his big arms, it felt all the more intimate, if that was at all possible. He cradled you as if you were the most precious thing to him. And, truly, you were.

“Move your hips with me baby,” he urged, voice a whisper against your heated skin, dancing across your collarbone. 

With your arms strewn around his shoulders, you tentatively rolled your hips, and when it elicited a gasp from him, you were emboldened to build your own rhythm. There was nothing rushed or frantic about it. You simply took the time to enjoy each other’s bodies, as you climbed toward that glorious peak. 

His hand was between your thighs again, fingers pressed against you, swirling firmly, deliberately. He kept his forehead against your own, eager to watch your face. God, you were the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. Your brow furrowed in pleasure, eyes going out of focus. 

And it was all because of him. It made his chest swell with pride to know he was the reason you were overcome with bliss. 

He kept his movements slow and even, so deep inside you that neither of you could tell where he ended and you began. You were certain that you would ache with emptiness once you parted, but for now, you were content to be in the moment and relish in the fullness. 

However, you were quickly beginning to lose yourself. Part of you never wanted it to end. You wanted to stay like this forever, the electricity of desire crackling beneath your skin, along the base of your spine. And yet, you also wanted so badly to come for him. 

“S’okay, honeybee,” he was struggling to form syllables, his breathing rushed. “Let go when y’need to.”

His lips were warm and open against yours, tongue laving at your bottom lip, asking for entrance, which you granted. Moaning into each other’s mouths, losing yourselves in the moment. 

You expected your orgasm to hit you like a ton of bricks. Perhaps you’d have to bite down on his shoulder to suppress your scream so as not to wake the entire house. What you didn’t expect, however, was the opposite. 

It didn’t hit you hard and sudden. No, it was gradual. Like the spark that started the wildfire. So small, yet able to grow into something so wild and unkempt. You felt it in your lower belly first. As if someone had taken hold of the very core of your being and tugged, like a rope being pulled taut. It wasn’t long before the delicious warmth began to spread further into your extremities. 

You were a live wire, thrumming with electricity. “Rhett,” you heard yourself gasp, and you buried your face against the crook of his neck as you began to tremble. 

He spoke again, but you couldn’t hear it over the rush of blood in your ears. The range of motion between you was so minimal, and yet it was sending you toward cloud nine. Slow, deliberate grinding, building and building and building until you knew you were too far gone to hold yourself back. 

Then he was tilting your head back, hand cradling your neck as he sighed into your open mouth, “Come for me, sweet darlin’.”

And you did. 

As it ebbed through you, you were engulfed in the most comforting feeling you had ever experienced. You locked eyes with him, and he watched in amazement as you unraveled. Your face contorted into an expression of raw, unabashed pleasure. 

It ebbed and flowed through your body, rising to meet you like the warm waves of the ocean, heated by the summer sun. 

And you smiled. A wide, blissful smile as you shuddered in his arms, wholly and utterly satiated. It was as if part of yourself had been missing and was now found. You felt complete and fulfilled in a way that mere mortal words could not describe. 

As you floated down from your peak, Rhett was barely holding it together. With trembling hands you held his face and kissed him, rocking in his lap, knowing that he, too, needed to reach his end. 

“I love you,” you gasped as you moved, shivering from sensitivity as your puffy center brushed against the base of him. 

He let out a high-pitched keen, deep in his throat, and squeezed his eyes shut. “S-say it again,” he sighed, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. 

You picked up your pace, knowing he was almost there just by the pulse of him inside you. “I love you.”

This time, his head fell back, his mouth open to let out his broken moans. He was so close. It clouded his every sense, consuming his being. “Again. Please. Say it again.” If he wasn’t so wrapped up in the moment, he might have marveled at the tears that had begun to roll down his cheeks. 

With one hand still holding his face, and your other arm now wrapped around his shoulders, you cried out, “I love you, I love you, I love you!”

His own hands immediately came up to grip your hips and he let out the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. A cross between a groan and a sob. He had to muffle it by hiding his face against your shoulder. 

You felt it then. The warmth of his very essence spilling into the deepest part of you, claiming you, filling you to the brim. You took it all, slowing down until you finally rested still against him as he shuddered from the aftershocks. 

You weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed like that, bodies intertwined. After a while, you felt him begin to soften, and gravity took over as his spent cock slipped from the confines of your slick heat. 

And oh, how empty you felt without him there to fill you. However, all at once, you were content. For the first time in a long time, you felt alive once again. 

As the afterglow settled in, Rhett lifted his head and offered a sheepish smile. “Was that alright, honeybee?” The tips of his ears went pink. 

You hugged him close. “It was everything I needed,” you replied with honesty, punctuated with a loving kiss to his lips. “You’re everything I needed.”

The look of pure adoration in his face made it all worth it. 

You weren’t sure who initiated it, but soon, you’d switched positions and settled against the mound of pillows and blankets, with your head resting against Rhett’s chest, right over the place where his bull and rider tattoo was. 

His fingers traced patterns along your spine, as your own fingers trailed absently over the expanse of his chest. You knew that you should eventually move and get cleaned up before you fell asleep like this, but neither of you wanted to break the spell. 

Rain pattered gently against the window. It seemed that the storm had begun to fade, leaving behind a quiet, sleepy earth in its wake. 

“Did’ya ever think we’d end up like this?” Rhett spoke into the comfortable silence of the room. 

You hummed. “Before I came back, I didn’t.”

His fingers stilled against your back. “When did it change for you?”

“The night of the rodeo,” came your reply. 

“For me, it was the first time I saw you after you came back. Brought all these feelin’s back that I tried to ignore. But then I held ya when you jumped outta the truck durin’ that twister. And then I, uh, saw you when you ran out the bathroom to grab a towel.” Mirth was in his tone as he said the last part. 

You couldn’t help but smile. “God, I was so embarrassed about that,” you admitted. 

“S’alright. Nothin’ to be embarrassed about.” He resumed the gentle patterns against your back with his fingers. “I sure am glad I got to see ya naked again, though.”

You lifted your head and slapped his chest lightly. “Hey now,” you scolded, humorously so. 

His mouth curved into a good-natured smile. When he leaned in to peck your lips again, you eagerly accepted the kiss. 

But it was soon time for the conversation to turn serious. Rhett’s lashes fluttered, his eyes growing misty. 

“I gotta ask…what does this mean for us? Because I need y’to know, I’m serious about you. We ain’t two kids fresh outta high school anymore. If we’re doin’ this, I wanna do it right. I want to make this relationship work. But only if you want that, too.”

You let out a soft breath, absently tracing his chest tattoo. In your heart of hearts, you knew what you wanted. “I do want that. I’m not about to walk away from you again, I promise you that much. But I’ve gotta figure out what I’m doing with work. I don’t want to go through a long distance thing.”

His brow furrowed slightly as he placed his warm hand over your own, giving it a squeeze. “I could…I could move to Maryland with ya.”

You met his gaze. “You? Leave Wabang?”

“What? I could do it.”

“You’d hate the city, Rhett. You’d hate living in my one-bedroom apartment. I know you love this place and it’s where you’re happiest. You don’t need to sacrifice that on account of me.”

“Doesn’t matter where I’m livin’, as long as I’ve got you.”

Your heart clenched at his words, and you nuzzled your nose against his. “I’ll figure it out. But I want to make this work, more than anything.”

“So do I.” Rhett was willing to go to the ends of the earth, if it meant he got to be with you. If he had to move to the city to do so, then so be it. 

For now, he was content to share this moment with you, bodies entangled on his bedroom floor. It reminded him of days gone by. And if only for a moment, he could close his eyes and go back to that time. When you were young and in love. When his brother was still alive. When life felt safe and hopeful, as if nothing bad could ever happen. 

But it did happen. The bull riding memorabilia that currently surrounded you both was a reminder of what he’d lost when he took a horn to the gut. The first bitter taste of reality he’d gotten as a young man. Little did he know that just a few years later, he’d lose three of the most important people in his life, and that injury would feel like a mere paper cut compared to the agony of grief. 

How far both of you had come since then. You’d conquered your fear of storm chasing. He’d conquered his fear of bull riding. And it had brought you both together again. 

The truth was, you’d needed to go on your own respective journeys of healing so you could return to each other as better versions of yourselves. 

“I guess we should get cleaned up,” your sleepy voice pulled him from his thoughts. 

He smiled, lips brushing against your forehead. “Guess we should. I’m about t’ fall asleep on this floor, and I know I’m gonna regret it in the mornin’ when my back is fucked up.”

Reluctantly, you sat up, immediately missing his warmth as the cool air rushed over your skin. Rhett stood, his knees popping slightly as he did so, and he reached for your hand, pulling you up with him. 

The evidence of your combined releases was slick against your inner thighs, and you were reminded of what you’d just done. The way he’d just made love to you. It sent a rush of warmth down your spine. 

“I’m all wet,” you murmured shyly. 

Rhett grunted softly. He could see the milky white glistening on your skin, and he had to avert his gaze, because he knew he’d wind up taking you all over again, and you were both much too tired to withstand another round. 

“I…I can help clean ya up?” He offered with an earnest smile. 

You decided to take him up on that, which led to you both sneaking across the hall and into the bathroom, where Rhett so lovingly wiped you clean. It reminded you of the past, where he had been so eager to learn how to care for you after sex. It had been a learning curve for both of you, being each other’s firsts. It had been such a special experience, one that you cherished to this day.

“Y’ready for bed now, honeybee?” He asked, once you were clean and had brushed your teeth. 

You nodded, and together, you tiptoed back across the hall, feeling much like your teenage selves, trying not to get caught by Cecilia whenever you’d sneak into Rhett’s room in the middle of the night. 

When you were safely closed into the confines of his bedroom again, you both scrambled to pick up all the pillows and blankets so you could settle into bed. 

“Ain’t much room in the bed. Guess we’ll have to snuggle up real close,” Rhett said with a grin. 

You stepped into his warmth, kissing his jaw. “I’m fine with that. Reminds me of all the times we used to squeeze into this thing together.”

Rhett was more than happy to have someone to cuddle up to again. His bed had been empty for far too long. And as he climbed beneath the covers that night, your body curled against his own, a sense of peace washed over him. 

You nestled your head against his chest, and he felt a sense of protectiveness overcome him. He would watch over you while you slept. You were safe with him. You always would be. 

When he fell asleep that night, his dreams were filled with flashes of your beautiful face, and he slept better than he had in years.

-

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[tonyboneysblog]

MOTHER HEN: PART FOUR

parings: hawks x mother!reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: none!

notes: “die Ryuji” we all say in unison while holding hands. (Thought it would be appropriate to post this on Mother’s Day…)

summary: You, the mother of Fumikage Tokoyami, are just a simple nurse! Who caught the eye of a certain pro.

It had only been a few days since the villains attacked U.A. high, your son Fumikage said he had something important to tell you.

“Don’t get mad, okay?” Tokoyami says while twirling his fingers together.

“Just tell me Fumikage” you reply with annoyance. you hated it when Fumikage dragged things out, felt like he was about to tell you a family member died but really all he did was accidentally break a plate.

you don’t know why he became like that, he used to just clean it up and go on with his day.

“U.A. is going to have their sports festival, and I was wondering-“

“Already? Didn’t they just get attacked by villains.” You say with a disapproving tone, seriously what was U.A. doing…

“They wanted to prove that this attacked hasn’t affected us.”

“I doubt that’s going to go well.”

showing the villains all of the students skills sets is such an amazing idea U.A.! You thought with sarcasm dripping from it, you didn’t want to say that infront of Fumikage- he likes that school too much.

Fumikage hesitates slightly, “Do you think you be able to see it?”

You sigh. “I’ll have to see my schedule.”

Fumikage looks down in disappointment but tries his best not to show it.

“But hey, I’ll try my absolute best to see my amazing boy win.” You tap his chin, making his eyes face you.

“Promise?” He says quietly.

“Pinkie.” You raise your pinkie finger, Fumikage chuckles and shakes his head.

“You can’t break a pinkie promise, mama.” He interlocks his pinkie with yours.

You smile at him, “Wouldn’t dream of it, Fumi.”

You were glad that Fumikage asked you to watch him at the sports festival, all your friends joke about how he’s just some emo teen who’ll scream at you about how “it’s not a phase!”

you didn’t really care if it wasn’t a phase anyway. You’ll love Fumikage in whatever form he’s in.

Speaking of your friends, they have recently asked you to go clubbing with them on the weekend saying, “you need a break, sweet cheeks.”

You accepted gratefully and as the clubbing day came close Fumikage always came home and told you all about his classmates.

He spoke a lot of one named shoji, you hope with all your heart they become good friends.

When Fumikage was younger his only friend was dark shadow.

you never want to hear him say, “what’s wrong with me, mom?” Just because kids

used to be scared of him and his quirk.

Now it was time to do one of your favorite things ever, but groceries.

You caught Fumikage trying to sneak out of the house and do it himself but you tackled him back into his bed until he gave up.

Grocery shopping was always so calming for you, Fumikage used to come all the time until some old women asked if he was even yours.

sure he had a bird head just like his father but- still super rude!

Putting your groceries into the cart then checking them off your list, you finally made it to your last one.

Chocolate chip Cookie mix.

Fumikage recently said that the cooking hero made one of the best cookies he’s ever eaten and you will never accept that.

Mamas cookies will be better! well when

you can actually grab the box.

The box mix was on one of the highest shelves in the store, you jump once to grab it- you miss.

you jump again, and miss.

Thirds times a charm right? You jump once more and instead of grabbing it you just push it back more.

well you suppose it’s time to start climbing shelves.

But then a calloused hand came to save you, you immediately think it’s hawks- he’s always somewhere near you.

A deeper voice say your name, “Y/n..?”

Not hawks.

You don’t turn around, your too scared to

suddenly your thankful to that old women who accidentally made Fumikage stop coming with you, you wouldn’t want him here-not now.

You turn around.

.

.

.

Hawks off days were usually spent inside relaxing or trying his very best to actually relax.

lazily getting one of bed, the one with your weighted blanket, he makes his way to the Kitchen.

Grabbing the cereal box, he tries his best to pour it into the bowl but nothing goes in.

Well looks like he needs to go the grocery store.

Getting dressed in a simple outfit he makes his way outside then flies off to the store!

hawks always liked his little adventures, he hoped he’d see you on this one but he highly doubts it.

But hey, speak of the devil because you’re right there in the aisle when he walks into the store!

Seems like you’re talking to a man, nice looking, about 6’ foot with dark brown hair.

Hawks has never heard you talk about your friends, mostly about your son- what was his name again?

You look…scared? Which is weird because at first hawks just thought this was an old friend you were talking to but..

why would you look scared?

Hawks sends over a small baby feather to let you know he’s there, you shouldn’t be scared.

he’ll keep you safe.

His feather tickles your back softly, you jump at first but keep your attention towards the man infront of you.

“So, how’s Fumikage?” His deep voice says.

“Fine.” You say quickly.

He sighs, “look y/n, I know we left off on a bad note but I’m better now.”

He says all of these words so soft and kind, but you remember when that same exact voice pinned your son against a wall and screamed at him.

why would Ryuji even care about how Fumikage is doing.

“Y/n?”

You snap out of that thought, “what.”

“It’s nice to see you again, you look good.”

Ryuji and that sliver tongue of his, always trying to butter you up.

“Thank you, Ryuji, but I have to leave.. Fumi-“

“Could I talk to you a little bit at least.” He raises his voice.

He’s blocking you in, what are you supposed to do?

“Please Ryuji-“

“Everything okay here, sweetheart?” A cheerful voice calls next to you.

It’s hawks, he has a lazy smile on his face you can’t really tell if he’s angry or not also- sweetheart?

“And who are you?” Ryuji asks hawks, who doesn’t know hawks though…

“Well I’m her-…” hawks paisss for a moment, “boyfriend!”

Ryuji chuckles softly, “sure you are..”

You sigh at hawks terrible attempt of pretend.

“Ryuji, that is hawks- he’s...” you look at hawks for a split second, “my boyfriend.”

You can see ss hawks wings flutter for a moment, not a good time for him to be acting all embarrassed.

Ryuji stammers, “Oh, I-..I just wanted to say to you y/n that I’m real-“

you cut him off, “why are you out so early?”

“Hell y/n, you know they don’t really double down on all the ‘domestic abuse’ bullshit.” Ryuji says curtly.

You can see hawks face twist in realization on who this man actually is, you’ve only told him about Ryuji once or twice before.

Ryuji continues, “where’s Fumikage anyway, don’t he always come out with you?”

“He stopped coming out a little while back.”

“Terrible thing really, he’s a good kid.” Ryuji says softly, almost like he’s talking to himself.

“Didn’t think he was a good kid when you were with me.” You say with distain dripping from your mouth.

You don’t really understand why your being like this with Ryuji, maybe hawks is giving you some boost of confidence.

“Don’t get mouthy with me.” Ryuji snaps back.

“Don’t you speak to her like that.” Hawks finally gets himself involved in the small spat.

Ryuji pauses, “Say that again, I dare you.”

You can see Ryujis fists tightening slowly, that’s never a good sigh with him.

“I will make your life miserable bird boy, even when you’re sleeping.”

Hawks steps closer to him, “You wanna go?”

You know Ryuji, he never makes an empty threat.

You grab hawks shoulder, “W-we’re sorry Ryuji.” You stare at the ground, not daring to face him.

“You need to keep his damn squawking to a minimum, y/n.” Ryuji says bitterly.

Hawks looks at you with confusion, you were just talking back to him weren’t you? Where did the confident side of you suddenly disappear to?

You step closer to Ryuji, whispering.

Hawks doesn’t pick up on it, ryuji seems like he’s staring straight through his soul.

You retreat next to hawks, Ryuji scoffs and starts to walk away towards the next aisle.

You let out the breath you were holding, finally relaxing.

“What’d you say to him?” Hawks cocks his head curiously.

“Nothing important.”

“Everything you say is Important to me.” Hawks says softly.

You pause, you won’t tell hawks about Ryujis quirk. You hope that he decides not to use it on him, even after you mouthed off to him.

Ryuji always used his quirk after you fought about something, you would go to bed and he would haunt you in your sleep.

You’d beg for his forgiveness every time, you never stood your ground.

Him hurting Fumikage made you change though.

“I just told him to stay away from Fumikage

That was a lie, hawks accepted it anyways.

Hawks shifts into his more happy go lucky mood, “Are you almost done with shopping?”

“Yea actually, I just needed that cookie mix up there.” You point towards the highest shelf.

Hawks chuckles softly and sends a feather up to get it, “make sure to give me some after you’re done baking.”

“Do you wanna make it with me?” You offer.

Hawks feels his heart skip a beat, you? Asking him to be in your kitchen? Baking sweet treats?

It wasn’t even a question.

“What kind of person would I be if I declined someone in need?” He smiles brightly.

You and hawks proceed to the check out, you’re quite lucky you encountered him at the store because there were almost far too many bags for you to carry.

you walked to the store as well so you couldn’t even put them all into your trunk, thanks for saving the day once again hawks!

He carries way more bags than you do, you’re a little worried he may blow out his back from all the weight but he seems fine.

You notice Ryuji as the two of you walk away, instead of staring at you he stares dead at Hawks.

You try your best to ignore it and continue walking towards your house.

After a couple minutes of walking, Hawks speaks up.

“Your house is just around the corner right?”

“Yep, it’s the white house.”

He snickers, “can’t believe I’ll be meeting the president.”

“Trust me when I say Fumikage is not the president.” You say sternly.

“Could I be your body guard, I heard you were hiring- Mrs President~” he says teasingly.

“You’re more like my stalker and less than some bodyguard.”

Hawks face twists into pure horror, sure he always bumps into you but that doesn’t mean he’s a stalker!

though he wouldn’t mind being your stalker in another universe…

You break through this thoughts with your small fit of giggles, laughing about his ‘silly face’ as you put it.

He was just glad you were looking at him.

Finally the both of you made it to your home, Fumikage left a note by the fridge that said he went to some training thing.

He always worried you, you much rather he called than leaving you some cryptic note- but then again you do the same thing.

Hawks picks up the note, reading it over.

“Hard worker ain’t he?” He chuckles quietly.

You smile, “Yea, just like his father.”

Hawks stiffens slightly, “His father?”

“Mhm, we met at the same hero school actually, he was the top of his class.”

Hawks raises his eyebrows in surprise, “You were training to become a hero?”

“Yea, then I found out I was pregnant with Fumikage so…kinda gave up on that pipe dream. That’s why I became a nurse instead, I still wanted to help people y’know?” You say with a soft smile.

Hawks nods with understanding hum.

He’s quiet for a moment, “And then you met Ryuji?”

“I met him when Fumikage was eleven, Ryuji promised me the world when reality he just gave me a rock.” You laugh at your own bad joke.

You hand hawks a bowl filled with the cookie mix and the milk, even though they’re not completely home made it’s a lot easier and less time consuming.

You speak up, “So, how about your love life?”

Hawks can feel himself choke on his own spit, you? Asking about his love life? His day just keeps getting better.

“Actually I’ve never really dated anyone, always too busy.” He sighs.

You gasp a small, “really?!”

He chuckles at your bewilderment.

“I mean I just thought some with your looks would have one by now!”

Hawks ears go red, even after all that training to control his poker face he still can’t resist blushing at a genuine compliment.

He can hear you chuckle, grabbing his ears and tugging slightly.

You giggle, he loves the sound, “Sorry for making you all bashful.”

One of his wings smacks your arm, you chuckle and shake your head then you bring a pan next to Hawks.

“Your done mixing right?”

He nods and you bump him out of the way, taking the bowl and starting to roll the mixture between your hands.

Hawks admires your handy work with content, he likes hanging around with you.

You spot him staring from the corner of your eye, “Need something, birdie?”

His wings flutter softly, “nothing in particular.”

You finish your work and place the cookies into the oven, Turing around face a relaxed Hawks.

Hawks watched you as you lean against the oven, staring back at him.

Hawks speaks quietly,

“Question.”

“Answer.”

“Is Fumikages father in a mental institution?”

Now it was your turn to choke on your own spit, “what?”

“I mean he must be insane for leaving someone like you…”

You laugh, “well aren’t you the charmer?”

“Only for you.”

You pause, is hawks pinning for you or something?

He steps closer towards you, looking away slightly.

You lean more into the oven, “hawks?”

He steps closer, caging you in, “y/n.”

You can feel his breath come in contact with your face, smells minty.

“I-“

The door suddenly opens, “mother, I’m home!”

It’s Fumikage!

…it’s Fumikage, who will soon walk into you and some man on the brink of canoodling.

You push Hawks off quickly, speedily walking over to where Fumikage is supposed to be.

“Fumi! Did you have fun training?” You open your arms for a hug.

Fumikage accepts it and hums.

You kiss the top of his head then ruffle his feathers, “you smell terrible.”

“Mother…”

“Go take a shower, cookies are in the oven.” You say with a smile.

Fumikage nods and starts to walk over to the bathroom, the one that passes the kitchen.

Until a terrifying scream comes from the kitchen, quite high pitched…

“Fumi?!” You call worriedly.

“M-MOTHER THERE IS A MAN IN OUR HOME.” You peek out into the hallway only to see dark shadow out, mostly about to beat the tar out of poor hawks.

You walk over to Fumikage quickly, “hey, hey! He’s just a guest!”

Fumikage retreats towards you, getting a good look at hawks.

He’s quiet, “you…”

Hawks starches the back of his head, “yea it’s me, the number three-“

“You’re the crazy stalker who was on my mother’s balcony!”

Hawks face twists into confusion, “wait what-“

Fumikage whips his head towards you, “Mother you need to call the police immediately!”

You sigh, “Fumi…”

This was the second time hawks had been called a stalker today….

Suddenly a devious plan spawns into your head.

“Fumi, there’s no one there.”

“What?”

You suddenly wave a hand towards hawks in a ‘get out of here’ motion.

“Fumi, look at me.” You grab his face, forcing him to look at you instead of hawks.

“Mama, are you okay…? Clearly there’s a man in our kitchen-“

Hawks suddenly jumps through the window in your kitchen, you didn’t really expect him to do that but okay…

“See Fumi, no one’s there!” You point into the kitchen as Fumikage whips his head to face the kitchen.

“W-what, he- he was just there!” Fumikage whips his head around wildly.

“How about you go cool off in the shower?” You suggest softly.

Fumikage looks down at his hands baffled, “I-i…okay.”

He walks towards the bathroom, closing the door.

You’re surprised that actually worked…

You walk into the kitchen, taking out the cookies that were just saved from being burnt.

Until a small little paper caught your eye, you pick it up and read it, it says a series of numbers.

“text me?” With a cute smiley face next to it.

now you have obtained hawks personal number.

What an eventful day?

Soon Fumikage returns from the bathroom, dressed in one of your old metal shirts from your high school days.

“Cute shirt.” You say sarcastically.

“Looks better on me.” He says sassily.

You wrap your arm around his neck and frazzle all of his feathers.

Fumikage claims that he hates it when you do that but he never resists it.

Fumikage tossed himself down onto the couch with a loud sigh, “y’know I didn’t fall for your whole kitchen trick.”

“Yea I know, smartie pants.” You toss one of the cookies you made towards Fumikage.

He catches it, “why’re you being so friendly with a pro hero..?”

“We keep meeting, next time you see him apologize for that stalker comment also.”

Fumikage takes a bite from the cookie, “can’t take it back if it’s true.”

“Fumikage.”

He sighs, “alright, I will.”

You pick up Fumikages feet and place them into your lap, Turing on one of those cult classic movies that he loves so much.

“Noticed you got Groceries.” Fumikage says Groggily, tired from training most likely.

“Yea, y’know who I saw there?”

Fumikage perks up, “that crazy old lady?”

“Nope, Ryuji.”

Fumikage stiffens slightly, “did he talk to you?”

“Small bit, no harm done.”

Fumikage relaxes slightly, “I should’ve gone with you.”

“It’s no sweat Fumi, your mama can protect herself you know?”

Fumikage sighs and nods, you notice his eyes flutter softly trying his best not to fall asleep.

He does anyway, you’re glad that Fumikage is getting the rest he needs because you want him to always be his best self.

And if Fumikage can never become his best self then you wouldn’t mind, you’d still love him anyways.

You stand and carry Fumikage to his room, placing him into the bed and tucking him in like he was 6 again.

You kiss him temple, and hope he dreams the best of dreams.

Someone who wasn’t doing that at the moment was Hawks.

He barely dreamed so when he went off to slumber land he didn’t expect something so terrifying to meet him there.

Blood and grim, screams of the people he never saved, it always haunted him in some way but never to this extent.

He wakes up in a cold sweat, your weighted blanket only giving him some comfort.

He was never like this before, they were never this intense.

He didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

What horrified him most is that you were in it, you were scared.

Why is he dreaming like this..?

PART FIVE: MOTHER HEN: PART FIVE

TAG LIST:

@lost-in-horrorland @boopjuice @validveenus @qardasngan @arminsarlerts @star-the-rabid-dog @bunni-teeth81 @lightsgore @portgasdbruh

[flwrkid14]

Hi! Can we get some more Jason Todd: Dad Mode Activated? 🥺👉👈 maybe about how Jason helps Tim with his crushes or maybe like how to cope with some mental health struggles/ Tim comparing how different Jason lectures him to Bruce’s lectures?

Hi!! Thank you so much for the ask! <3 These are such great concepts, and I’d have so much fun exploring them! While I’m not sure I’ll make a full post for this, I’d love to share my thoughts on how these ideas could play out!

For Jason helping Tim with crushes, I feel like he’d totally be that dad—the one who embarrasses you in front of your crush on purpose. Tim, of course, doesn’t tell Jason about his crushes for this exact reason, but Jason is way too observant not to figure it out anyway. Imagine them out together (because Jason has once again dragged Tim away from his work to make him take a break), and Jason spots Tim’s current crush walking down the street. He’d nudge Tim with that smug, teasing grin of his, going, “Timmy! Look, Timbo! It’s Bernard! Isn’t he a good friend of yours? What’s he doing out here? Let’s go say hi!” And then, before Tim can protest, Jason’s already dragging him over, while Tim is blushing furiously and muttering curses under his breath. Jason’s embarrassing as hell, but... it’s also endearing. And for Tim, who didn’t grow up with that kind of playful, teasing love, it felt oddly nice... even if his dad was now enthusiastically talking about his cuddling habits when sleeping (screw him for being touch starved) to a very confused Bernard.

As for coping with mental health, Jason would be such a huge advocate. Realizing that Tim is his kid now—and that he’s essentially a dad—would really push Jason to work on his own mental health. He’d know he can’t preach good habits to Tim if he’s not setting a good example himself (because independent Tim Drake—who grew up without much supervision—definitely needs someone to lead by example. He needs proof that taking advice from someone else is worth it, especially when his own methods have always worked just fine for him).

So Jason starts his own mental health journey, taking active steps to improve himself, and Tim notices. And it hits him hard, because none of his parental figures before—Bruce or Jack—ever did that. They never cared about their own well-being for his sake, to be better parents to him. Seeing Jason make that effort makes Tim feel so incredibly loved and valued.

Jason wouldn’t just lecture Tim or bark orders at him; he’d actively help him build better habits. He’d set up mandatory family dinners once a week to encourage better eating patterns and help Tim develop routines that supported a healthier sleep schedule, tailored to his needs, once they realized the standard eight hours a night just wasn’t realistic for him.

It’s these little changes that make Tim realize just how different Jason is from Bruce.

Jason doesn’t demand things from Tim that he doesn’t practice himself. He wouldn’t tell Tim to stop working late if he wasn’t also putting his own work aside and calling it a night. If he’s telling Tim to eat better, he’s leading by example—packing ready-to-go meals for both of them when there’s no time to cook. Jason shows Tim why these changes are worth it, through actions and positive outcomes.

Bruce, on the other hand, never did that. Whatever Bruce told Tim to do was just an expectation. He’d demand Tim do better or lecture him without ever showing how or why it mattered. If Bruce criticized Tim’s performance in the field but was himself guilty of being distracted—like running off mid-patrol for a rendezvous with catwoman—Tim just nodded along and tuned him out. Bruce’s hypocrisy made it impossible for Tim to take him seriously.

But Jason? Jason shows Tim why he should listen, fixing his own behavior and performance first before ever asking the same of Tim. And that difference speaks volumes. For Tim, who’s used to parental figures endless demands with no understanding behind them, Jason’s approach feels like a breath of fresh air—and the kind of support he never knew he needed.

hopefully that lived up to your expectations! <3

[ladykailitha]

A Love Connection Part 3

Hey, all! Welcome to first of two posts today.

I've really got to ask, are you guys seeing these posts? I dropped from 70-80 notes on a post at the beginning of the month to barely cracking 40-50 these days and then it slowly works up as more people see it, but it's taking weeks to get that when it used to take a day maybe two.

I did change my schedule but the people I'm tagging should be able to see them right? And the people that have me on notifications?

Also I've seen a sharp drop in people that used to comment and reblog all the time, from anywhere from not seeing them at all to them only liking a post.

I'm not trying to dog anyone, I'm just curious about the sudden change.

Any advice would be helpful.

This morning's chapter includes the cutest kitten (Sorry Nermal), a Robin apology, and Chrissy and Robin have a confession to make.

Part 1 Part 2

~

Steve pulled up to the apartment building and turned off his car. He put his head on the steering wheel with a heavy sigh. He was about to hit his head on the horn when he heard it. He lifted his head and tilted it.

There!

Steve scrambled to get out of the car. He rushed toward the sound. He skidded on the wet and icy pavement as he tried to come to a stop, nearly toppling over in the process. Near the dumpsters was a wet cardboard box, falling apart in the thick snow.

He scrambled toward it, trying to keep his feet under him. He knelt in the snow and peeled back as sagging corner of the box to reveal the sweetest thing he had ever seen. There, all alone in the destroyed box was a small cream colored kitten with dark brown ears. It looked up at Steve and mewled in the weakest, most plaintive meow imaginable.

He sank to his knees and with gentle hands scooped the wet creature into his arms. It clung to him as he stood shakily to his feet.

“Hey, little guy,” he murmured. “Don’t you know outside is no place to be at this time of year?”

It mewled again and clung a little harder to Steve’s coat. “There’s no place open for me to get you checked out, little one, but let’s get you inside and dried off at the very least, then I’ll see what I have that you can eat until I can get you some proper food. How does that sound?”

“Mew!”

Steve chuckled. “I figured you’d be down with that.”

He turned away from the now fully collapsed box, that once had read on the outside “KITTENS FREE TO GOOD HOME”

~

Before Steve even gotten the kitten dried and fed, he knew he was going to keep it. The poor little thing was as alone as he was feeling in that moment.

He looked up vet services and vowed to make a run to the pet store for supplies first thing in the morning.

He looked up everything he could; like how old the kitten was likely to be, what kind of nutrition the little thing needed, how to tell the sex of his new friend, what toys it would need, proper bedding.

He fell asleep reading how to tell how big a kitten was going to grow up to be, the kitten nestled under his chin.

Steve woke up to distressed mewling. He shot up when he realized it, no not it, he, was no longer on his chest. At first he couldn’t see him, but then he caught sight of the small little paw located near the distressed meows.

He peered over the sofa and burst out laughing. Somehow the kitten had gotten one of his claws caught in the afghan Joyce had given him his first year as a teacher. Something she did for all new teachers at her school regardless of their years being a teacher.

He reached over and gently untangled the little thing from the blanket. “There you go. What were you doing up there anyway?”

“Merrow!” he meowed.

Steve checked his watch and was pleased to note it was barely seven. Which meant he had plenty of time to get dressed, get the little tyke checked out and to stop by the pet store for supplies.

He set him down on the sofa and immediately the kitten tried to walk off the edge. “All all kittens this dumb or is it just you?”

“Meroh!” the kitten cried.

He laughed and scooped him up into his arms. He set the kitten in the middle of the bed so he could change his clothes. Steve laughed every time he had to stop what he was doing and rescue him from the edge, placing him in the center of the bed once again.

Finally he was ready to go. He placed the kitten in his coat to keep it from getting stuck under the car seat and for Steve’s own piece of mind.

He drove to the nearest vet and hoped it wouldn’t cost him an arm and a leg to get the little guy checked out.

~

The vet was quick and painless. On his wallet too. The nice lady at the desk got him set up with a vaccination schedule and the adoption papers.

“All right,” she said warmly, “all he needs is a name.”

Steve chewed on his lip for a moment before he wrote in big capital letters “ODIE”.

She raised her eyebrow but before she could comment the vet’s assistant came out with the little rascal. “That has got be the stupidest or the most fearless kitten I’ve ever met.”

The desk lady looked back at the vet’s assistant and then back at Steve who was trying very hard to hide his smile and failing miserably.

She sighed and helped put the kitten in a cardboard carrier. “There you go, Odie is all set.”

The vet’s assistant burst out laughing. “I like it.”

Steve was about to ask for her number when he noticed a ring on her left hand. Damn.

Oh well, he couldn’t win them all. He thanked them both and took his new friend out to his car.

“Come on, Odie,” he murmured, buckling the carrier into the passenger seat, “lets go get you everything you’ll need.”

~

Steve had just gotten into the car when his cell phone pinged. He opened it to reveal a text from Robin telling him to call her.

He dialed her number. “Hey, Bobbin.”

“So, um...my girlfriend is mad at me for ditching you,” she began nervously, “and making you watch the AV club when last night was supposed to be about hanging out with you before we left.”

Steve sighed. Which meant that Robin had lied to Chrissy about him joining them later and she only found out this morning that was never the plan. “How much hot water are you in?”

“A lot,” Robin admitted. “Like if this trip hadn’t been planned for months, I wouldn’t be going kind of hot water.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand and sighed. “Yeah, that’s pretty bad. Is she doing the thing with her bottom lip and watery eyes?”

“Yes!” she wailed. “Now I feel horrible!”

“About upsetting your girlfriend or for ditching me?” he asked because he felt it was a very important distinction she needed to make.

“Shit!” she hissed. “Of course I feel horrible about leaving you with seven little demons. I know I wasn’t last night when you were messaging me, but I filled with booze. When I got home I was filled with regret. I’m the one that told her about ditching you, she didn’t find out any other way. I promise. You know how get with pretty ladies. Chrissy had showed me what she planned to wear out last night, yesterday morning and that the only thought in my head all day. And when you kept messaging me, and Chrissy kept asking me when you were coming out, I just dug a hole for myself and just kept digging. I’m really sorry.”

She paused for a moment. “I probably should have led with that instead of the upset girlfriend, huh?”

Steve clicked his tongue. “Yeah, probably. So when are you two leaving?”

“In a few minutes,” she murmured. “We have everything packed up and ready to go, we just need to get to the airport and get checked in.”

“Are you sure you two don’t want me to take you?” Steve asked. “I could be there in five minutes. That way you don’t have to take an Uber or pay for long term parking.”

Suddenly there was BEEP, BEEP!

“Looks like our ride is here,” Robin said. “Chrissy got one of her friends to take us because they live closer. But you better pick us up, okay? I’ll miss your stupid face.”

“Your face is stupider,” Steve teased back. “You two ladies have a great trip and I’ll see you in a week.”

Robin sighed dramatically. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

“I can’t,” Steve said, “you’re taking all the stupid with you.”

“Hey!” she protested as he hung up on her. He chuckled at the immediate message he got after the call disconnected.

He looked over at the new cat carrier he bought. It was much bigger than Odie currently needed but Steve wanted to give him room to grow into. The kitten was currently asleep in it. Having passed out while Steve was shopping. This is didn’t count as doing something stupid while she was gone, he reasoned, because she was still here.

~

Once Steve got home, he setup the cat bed in the living room, the food and water dishes in the kitchen and the litterbox in the bathroom. He would need to be trained to use the litterbox, but the nice ladies at the vet said it was fairly easy because it was pretty much their instinct to want to bury their wastes.

Steve just had to be consistent. Which was perfect because he had the next two weeks off.

He put the pet toys in his room and settled Odie in. He had been fed and shown the litterbox where he promptly did his business. Steve turned on the latest season of “A Love Connection” and Odie immediately curled up on Steve’s chest right under his chin.

Yeah, this was going to work out just fine.

Over the next week Steve and Odie got used to each other and Steve learned that Odie was more fearless than stupid. He wouldn’t go anywhere he might actually get hurt, once he knew where the limits were. But he was always testing those limits.

Steve knew that he would probably have to find a bigger place once Odie had grown up because of all the jumping the little thing tried to do.

The kitten was aptly named in one sense though, he followed Steve around like a dog. Always at Steve’s heels.

He wasn’t sure how many times he almost stepped on Odie, but it was a lot. But he had good reflexes and he sure put them to the test.

~

A week later, Chrissy and Robin showed up at the apartment with a six pack of his favorite beer, a large bag of gummy worms, and of course his Christmas presents. But it was the guilty expressions that really sold it.

“So um...” Robin began looking at Chrissy for help. “In early November, ‘Love Connection’ posted online for a casting call for their all queer season of their show. I think it’s a little rude that it’ll be for the thirteenth season, but–”

Chrissy put her hand on Robin’s arm. “What Robin is trying to say is that we sent in your application as a joke. We didn’t think that they would pick it. It was one in a couple million shot, you know? Anyway, I think they must have recognized my email as the one attached to my Twitter account and well...”

Steve put his face in his hands. “You didn’t...come on, guys. I don’t want to go on a game show to find love. I’m not that desperate yet.”

“We brought you gummy bears and beer!” Robin said hold up her prizes like that would help the matter. At all.

Steve was ready to open his mouth to shut this down when he got the best idea. “I’ll do the show on one condition,” he said with a blinding smile.

Chrissy and Robin shared a shocked glance. They didn’t think he would agree so easily.

“Yeah, okay,” Chrissy said warily, not sure where this was going.

Steve dashed into the bedroom and came back holding the kitten Lion King style. “I get to keep Odie!”

~

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Tag List: FIVE SLOTS LEFT

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @dreamercec @wheneverfeasible @themoonagainstmers @garden-of-gay @little-birch-boy

[softxsuki]

FANFIC/FANART CONTEST (Money Prize)

!!!!BEFORE CONTINUING: For my U.S participants, please make sure you have Venmo or Cashapp. And for anyone outside the U.S make sure you have PayPal. That is the ONLY way I'll be able to send the prize money if you win, and I will NOT be using PayPal for an U.S winners (bc i need to pay a fee to send money with paypal and I'd rather not ).!!!!!

With that settled, hey! This is something I’ve been wanting to do for a while now, but every year has been a little tight for me with my own holiday spendings and student loans I have to pay back, but I wanted a chance to give back to you guys for all your support, and what better way than through a little contest? 

I’ve been writing on tumblr since April 2021??? I’ve put out a lot of writing for you guys, despite my horrible writing schedule and terrible deadlines I never meet. I’ve loved every minute of it and have enjoyed talking to some of you ❤️

Perhaps you've been around for a long time, or you just followed me yesterday, ooooor maybe you're finding my blog through this post, if so, welcome! I write fanfics for anime and otome games (used to write for kpop as well, but I don't anymore). If that sounds like something you like, then you're in the right place!

What do you need to do to join?:

Write either a fanfic or draw fanart to enter and get the chance to win money :). It’s the holidays season, and while I can’t give out much, I want to give something. I’ll be picking 4 winners-- 2 for fanfics and 2 for fanart. First place winners for each will get $50 and second place winners will get $25.

How to Enter:

You must be following me

For U.S participants, you must have Cash app or Venmo, and if you live outside the U.S, you must have PayPal! (if you don't and you win, you won't be able to receive your prize money!)

Choose whether you want to write a fanfic or draw fanart (only pick one. And you can only submit once)

Tag me in your completed work and add the hashtag #hanscontest2024 along with any other hashtags you want to get your work out there (this is how I'll find your work if your tag gets lost in my notifications)

Add in your Cash app or Venmo ID to the bottom of your work (you can delete this once the contest is over if you want, just wanna make sure people who enter actually have one) Participants outside the U.S who will be using PayPal, I won't ask you to put your private info on here, but just please make sure you have one. And instead, just state which country you're from so I know you're an international participant! Thanks

Rules/Guidelines for Each Topic:

Fanfic Writers:

Your fics must be a minimum of 1k words, I don’t have a maximum, but I’d feel bad if you wrote a whole fic and didn’t win…but length doesn’t determine who wins, quality does!

You MUST pick a character from the list below. I’ve added fandoms and characters that I personally don’t write for as well, but enjoy (since I’ll be reading all of these, I’d like to read things for characters I like!)

Fem!Reader or Gn!Reader only please (Again, I’ll be spending time reading these and as a woman, I’d relate more to reader if I can relate to them. But if you have a male reader in mind, you can still enter, just write it gender neutral please!)

I am a SFW blog, but I’ll be accepting slightly NSFW submissions for this contest. Just please no straight up porn with no plot. I need plot to actually get into a story :(

Idea’s must be your own and must be new and written specifically for this contest! No plagiarizing, and no fics that you’ve already written and posted online or you’ll be disqualified 

No non-con/rape, no incest, no poly, no character x character, no drugs (alcohol and smoking are fine, just no weed, no other drugs pls), no religion mocking, no racism, no hateful speech towards any group of ppl pls

Only one submission per person (I’ll be able to tell through writing style or if you make another account to join again and you’ll be disqualified) 

That’s about it. As for grammar, I have a hard time reading things that don’t flow well or have grammar mistakes. SOOOO for my younger writers out there who don’t know some grammar rules, or maybe even my writers who don’t have English as a first language, or maybe even writers who’d like a proofreader, I’m willing to read through your drafts to correct any minor grammar mistakes. I won’t be helping with anything else, like how to progress your story, or plot holes or anything like that, only grammar. My editing help will not increase your chances of winning either or guarantee you to win. 

For Fanart: 

Like the writers, you must pick a character from the list below

Artwork can be physical or digital, just no AI artwork please, or you’ll be disqualified 

Can be any medium; digital, drawing, painting, etc—just make sure it’s complete. Preferably some color would be great as well, unless you’ve chosen an artistic route to not use color

Just characters please, no readers. And no ships…you can choose several characters from the list and incorporate them into one piece, but just no romantic ship artwork plssss

Must be your own work and new! I’ll be reverse searching every image to make sure it doesn't already exist

Each image must have a little turtle in it somewhere in the artwork (just as an indicator that it’s really yours. Why turtles? Because I love them heh)

I’ll allow suggestive artwork, just please don’t send in anything explicit (you know what I mean)

Some more general rules:

Please make sure you’ve read and understand all the rules written. If you submit something that breaks one of these rules, you’ll be disqualified. So if you have any questions or need anything clarified, just ask me :)

If you’re a minor, please don’t send in NSFW content, I’ll disqualify you. Also I'm leaving this open to all ages, just know you won't be able to use the prize money or receive it if you don't have a bank account...so I guess that would be 16 and up? Idk what the age is to start your own bank acc lol

NO AI ART WORK OR WRITING ALLOWED. This is your chance to be creative and showcase you, in whichever way you decide

NO Stealing other people’s work…just don’t do it

Please don’t trauma dump on me, or beg me to choose you as the winner. I know there are people out there who would really need this money and who are struggling. I feel for you all, but I can’t afford to send everyone money. I can’t handle hearing how badly everyone needs this…my guilt won’t be able to handle it. I’ll disqualify you if you do, if many people do it, I’ll end the contest entirely. This is supposed to be fun with the added benefit of winning some money for yourself if you win

The creative freedom is yours! Write whatever you want to write about, make it unique, grab my attention. Draw/paint/create whatever you want with whatever ideas you have; whether it’s turning Bakugou into a boxer, or making Zoro a girl dad, the possibilities are endless. I want everyone to have fun with this!

Again, US participants must have cash app or Venmo and participants outside of the US must have PayPal! If you don’t then you won’t be able to receive the prize money if you win!

Deadline: December 22th @11:59pm 

Please let me know if you have any questions about anything. Again, grammar editing can be requested. I’ll be going over only grammar. I won’t be giving you advice on how to write your story or how to advance your story/plot holes or things I don’t like. Only grammar! If you want to run your story idea or art idea by me first to make sure it’s acceptable, you can do that as well. I’ll be around :)

I was thinking over how to choose the winner. At first I was going to do a poll, but I realized it would be biased towards users who have more followers than others. So I will be choosing the winners myself. Looking at fine details and works that really speak to ME, hence why I’ve chosen specific characters. 

Not sure how much attention this will get or how many people will enter, for all I know, only two people might enter and the money will go straight to them, or no one might enter…so this is a test trial. If no one joins, I shall delete and pretend like it never happened. But if it’s successful, then maybe I’ll make it a yearly thing! Giving back for the holidays :) <3

Good luck and hope you all have fun with this! 

List of Characters to Choose From:

One Piece: | Portgas D. Ace | Ben Beckman | Bartolomeo | Buggy | Crocodile | Dragon… | Franky | Gol D Roger | Katakuri | Kidd | Luffy | Law | Mihawk | Shanks | Smoker | Sabo | Sanji | Whitebeard | Zoro |

Genshin Impact: | Alhaithaim | Childe | Diluc | Neuvillette | Wriothesley | Zhongli |

Haikyuu: | Akaashi | Atsumu | Bokuto | Iwaizumu | Kageyama | Kita | Kuroo | Oikawa | Osamu | Suna | Ushijima | Ukai |

Tears of Themis: | Artem | Luke | Marius | Vyn |

Love and Deepspace: | Rafayel | Sylus | Xavier | Zayne |

Fire Force: | Benimaru | Hinawa | Konro | Obi | 

Honkai Star Rail: | Blade | Dan Heng | Jing Yuan | 

Blue Lock: | Barou | Kunigami | Rin | Sae | 

My Hero Academia: | Pro Hero Bakugou | Dabi | Edgeshot | Fatgum | Hawks | Pro Hero Kirishima | Pro Hero Kaminari | Pro Hero Midoriya | Pro Hero Shinsou | Pro Hero Shoto | 

Tokyo Revengers: | Baji | Draken | Kazutora | Mikey | Mitsuya | Ran | Rindou | Shinichiro | Sanzu | 

Obey Me: | Beelzebub | Barbatos | Diavolo | Lucifer | Mammon | Solomon | 

Jujutsu Kaisen: | Choso | Gojo | Geto | Higuruma | Itadori | Megumi | Nanami | Sukuna | Toji | Yuuta | 

Wuthering Waves: | Calcahoro | Jiyan |

Yona of the Dawn: | Hak | Jaeha | Shinah |

Demon Slayer: | Giyuu | Obanai | Rengoku | Sanemi | Tengen | 

Attack On Titan: | Eren | Levi | Niccolo | 

Naruto: | Itachi | Kakashi | Sasuke | 

Mystic Messenger: | Jumin | Saeyoung | 

Spy x Family: | Loid | Yuri |

Inuyasha: | Sesshomaru |

Snow White with the Red Hair: | Obi |

Good Luck <3