#rain has crutches

[littlerainyghoul]

i saw your reblog and im here to say id love if youd write little rain with crutches

I'd absolutely love to! Sorry this took so long - I was really busy for a while hehe :]]]

Without further ado -

Crutches and Comfort

Summary: Rain collapses on the stairs, feeling regressed. Cumulus is there for the rescue.

Pairings: Regressed Rain, Caregiver Cumulus and Dewdrop.

Words: 1100

Slight CW for mention of injury.

Rain did not see that coming.

He started to feel small for a while when his legs started to give way. His usual confident and statured pose gave way to a shakier and smaller version of him. As he called out on his steps in his room, he collapsed on the stairs. 

“Mmmmmrph” Rain snuffed as he silently wanted to curse, his body descended on the freezing floor. He lay on the ground as pain crawled on his body, specifically the area where he landed - his right knee. 

Cumulus heard the drop and headed to the water ghoul's rescue. The air ghoullete's essence seemed to cradle Rain, offering support and reassurance. She was by his side in a matter of moments. 

“Rain, honey, are you okay?” She cooed softly, as she saw the collapsed ghoul on the cold, hard floor. 

“Mmmm, owie” was all that Rain could get himself to say. 

“You have an owie, Rain?" Cumulus eventually spoke, her voice raspy yet carrying an angelic tone laced with care and warmth.  

“Mmmmph. Yes” Rain continued to speak, his voice wavering with pain. He pointed to his knee where he landed on - "owie".

Cumulus gently lifted Rain in her ethereal embrace, carrying him as if he weighed nothing. Her form enveloped him, providing a soothing sensation that eased his discomfort.

“Let me see where it hurts, my sweet Rain,” Cumulus whispered. Rain winced slightly but allowed her to examine him. She gently laid them on the stairs as she examined their leg. 

"No visible injuries, dear" she softly cooed as she rubbed his knee, her touch gentle and healing. 

“Can...I have...my crutchies, Lus?" Rain spoke softly. 

”Of course, honey bunny" Cumulus stood up and disappeared for a few moments.

The room was adorned with a soft glow as Cumulus returned, holding the raincloud-stickered crutches. She carefully handed them to Rain, who gratefully took hold of them.

"Thankies, Lus," Rain murmured, using the crutches to prop himself up. Cumulus continued to hover around him, her ethereal presence radiating comfort.

Rain, with a determined yet cautious look on their face, gingerly placed the crutches under their arms. The raincloud-stickered handles were firm in his grip as he adjusted his stance, relying on them for support.  Each step was a deliberate dance of balance and coordination. With the crutches firmly planted, Rain shifted their weight. He moved forward tentatively, the sound of the rubber tips meeting the floor punctuating his efforts.

"Feeling a bit small there, Rain?" Cumulus inquired, her words dripping with genuine concern and care.

“mmm...yeah..." Rain murmured after a moment. "Owie. It still really hurts" he continued to speak, as shifted his weight back and forth.

Cumulus remained attentive, her raspy yet soothing voice offering a constant stream of comfort. "Take it slow, my sweet Rainy. We'll get through this together," she reassured, the soft glow in the room casting a calming ambiance as Rain continued carrying himself on the crutches supported by the care and warmth of Cumulus.

She leaned in, planting soft kisses on their forehead, each one carrying a touch of healing and comfort. 

"There, there, Rainy," she cooed, her voice wrapping around him like a soothing melody. "Let these kisses bring you some peace and healing. Now, how about we go on the couch with your stuffies and let you rest?" 

"Yay, Lus" Rain continued, as he tried to steady is voice a little bit more. 

Cumulus, with the same ethereal grace that defined her every movement, led Rain to the cozy embrace of the couch. As they settled in, Cumulus conjured a soft blanket, blue with rainclouds, draping it over Rain with gentle tenderness and ease. The room retained its warm glow, and the air felt lighter, infused with a sense of serenity. She took a seat next to the tiny water ghoul, as she let them wrap their arms around her. 

Rain, nestled on the couch with Cumulus, his head laid on her chest, as he heard her heartbeat, only raising their head when they spotted Dewdrop passing by. 

Dewdrop had a look of concern on his face as he witnessed the scene before him. Walking over, Dewdrop greeted them with a gentle ripple of fire that sparkled in the soft glow of the room.

"Hey there, Rain. What happened?" Dewdrop inquired, their voice echoing in the room. He noticed Rain shivering slightly, his eyes wide open. 

"Fell down the stairs. Am small" Rain spoke quietly, and gently, as he nuzzled himself against Cumulus once more, trembling. 

"Aww, are you cold, Rainbow?" Dewdrop couldn't help but aquire.

Cumulus, with a grin on her face extended a welcoming gesture to Dewdrop. "Join us, Dew. Rain could use the company. Besides,

you're literally a walking heater" 

Dewdrop, embracing the opportunity, pounced onto the sofa next to Rain, wrapping his fiery arm around the water ghoul and stroking his hair with gentle warmth. 

“Can...I have my...stuffie?“ Rain whispered, a vulnerable request that hung in the air. Cumulus, with a tender smile, gestured to the surrounding area, where the plush companions awaited.

"Of course, my sweet," she replied, her voice filled with warmth and understanding.

Cumulus conjured a shark plush, and nestled it beside Rain on the couch. Resting on the fluffy shark was Rain's favorite stuffie, a small water droplet plush with a smile that seemed to radiate comfort.

Rain nodded, a sense of gratitude washing over him. The trio—Rain, Cumulus, and Dewdrop—formed a unique synergy, a harmonious blend of air, water and fire, offering comfort and companionship. In the hushed moments that followed, the room became a sanctuary, where the troubles of the outside world seemed to fade away, leaving only the gentle sounds of raindrops and the ethereal glow that enveloped them in a protective embrace.

As the cacoon of warmth gently embraced the room, Rain, feeling the weight of weariness, snuggled closer to the plushie, as well as his companions on the couch. The warmth emanating from Cumulus, the soft glow of Dewdrop's body and the tales of resilience worked like a lullaby, soothing not just the lingering pain in Rain's knee but also cradling their soul into the land of sleep.

"Mmrph, might eep" Rain felt himself say, as he softly purred on the couch.

Cumulus, noticing the signs of drowsiness in Rain's eyes, continued to weave a gentle breeze around them, creating an atmosphere that whispered of dreams and tranquility. Dewdrop, with a soft crackling sound, adjusted his flames to emit a warmth that mirrored the coziness of a hearth.

With a contented sigh, Rain allowed themselves to fully surrender to the embrace of slumber. 

Cumulus, with a tender smile, extended an ethereal touch to Rain's forehead, planting a gentle kiss that carried the essence of care. "Rest well, sweet. May your dreams be as gentle as a summer rain."

[fishgeraldthealmostincel]

hits your favorite character with my disability beam

[hayakawapartner]

aki with a s/o with chronic pain . . .

!!! this post is sfw, but minors/ageless blogs dni with this post/blog !!!

notes: gn!disabled!reader, this is self indulgent i tried to make this fitting for more general chronic pain! reader might come across as ehlers danlos-coded (is that a thing?? weird thing for me to type)

aki is already so sweet and caring with you, of course he would be helpful when your chronic pain flares up.

he notices that you’re moving a bit slower, taking shorter steps, taking a longer time to get up from your seat… and he’s immediately there to help

VERY quick to ask what you need, but he also tries to offer your usual solutions

“where does it hurt? do you need a heating pad? painkillers? tiger balm? do you want me to run a warm bath?”

if you have fluctuating mobility/occasionally use a mobility aid, he does his best to keep everything in a convenient spot for you. crutches near the bed so you can slide your arms in and get up with a bit more ease, rollator in a place where you don’t trip but it’s easy to access…

he was initially Overly Careful with you so he didn’t aggravate your pain further, but as he grows used to your needs, he’s still careful but he’s not scared of breaking you like he used to be

kisses the back of your neck while gently massaging your sore joints/muscles, murmuring soft “i love you”s and “you’re gonna be okay”s while he’s rubbing tiger balm onto your sorest spots

if he hears your joints pop he gets really nervous until you specify if it was a good/bad pop

if a spot is too sore, he won’t touch it in case he hurts you even more.

and if you just Can’t get out of bed for the day? he calls off from work to take care of you. brings you comfort food, helps you to the bathroom when you need it, makes sure you’re hydrated and taking your meds…

SPEAKING OF MEDS. this man is so good at reminding you

“did you forget to take your meds? maybe you should take them now, love. it’ll help you feel less sore.”

he’s very careful to make sure he doesn’t shame you for forgetting meds, for needing help, for being in pain. he just does whatever he can to make sure you’re okay and empathises with your complaints about your aches.

while he hates seeing you in pain during a flare-up, he becomes extra doting just to make sure your needs are met. cooks your fav comfort meal, makes sure all your pillows are soft and arranged to keep you comfy, refills your water bottle whenever it’s almost empty, etc.

he’s just so loving… aaauuuu

[just-nc-tea]

do you think i'm f͟r͟a͟g͟i͟l͟e͟? ☆ ͡ ⊹

⭑.ᐟ The coaches daughter -  Lee Heeseung A car accident has turned your life upside down, leaving you with a knee and ankle that ache like they belong to someone three times your age. Navigating college with these setbacks is hard enough, but when your overprotective dad insists you take an internship with the men’s hockey team, you’re thrust back into the world you’ve spent years avoiding. The rink represents everything you’ve lost—and then there’s Heeseung, the captain whom you somehow cannot stop thinking about.

series masterlist ⭑.ᐟ

ᝰ genre. College sports aus, angst, hurt/comfort, slow burn, fluff, a lot of falling asleep in the same bed, some good old family drama .ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ warnings. Swearing, car crash, Y/N just had surgery and is using crutches, partying, some making out .ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ word count. 30.k .ᐟ₊ ⊹  ᝰ an.I haven't written or published anything in like 8 years i think! And back then everything i wrote was in German so this was my first time propperly writing in English! I am not 100% pleased with this but i kinda also wanted to finally post this

The sound of crunching metal and the violent jolt of impact were the last things you remembered clearly from that day six years ago.

You had been sitting in the front seat, your legs tucked comfortably into the seat as your dad drove through the light rain on a Saturday morning. “Soobin’s got nothing on me once I perfect my wrist shot,” you told your father excitedly, looking at him in the driver's seat. He nodded and briefly glanced at his phone in the cub holder, frowning when he saw a new message. He shifted in his seat, his focus divided.

You noticed the change in his expression but tried to keep the conversation light: “I was thinking... maybe you could watch the scrimmage today? I’ve been dying to show you how much better I’ve gotten.” Your voice held that hopeful edge, the one you always used when you wanted his approval.

“I’ll try, kiddo,” he said, though his tone was distracted. Before you could respond, your father’s eyes flicked back to the road—and froze. Ahead of the two of you, a truck skidded wildly through the intersection, its tires screeching on the wet pavement. Time seemed to slow as your father’s hands gripped the wheel, his mouth opening in a shout of warning that came too late.

The impact was deafening.

In the split second before the collision, you felt your father’s arm shoot out in front of you in a reflexive, futile attempt to shield your body from impact. Then, all at once, the world turned upside down. The sound of metal smashing against metal rang in your ears, so loud it felt like your head was splitting. Your body was thrown violently against the side of the car, your head slamming into the window with brutal force. You heard the crack of glass, the sharp crunch of bones, and then... pain. Blinding, searing pain exploded through your body, radiating from your foot up into your chest. It stole the air from your lungs, leaving you gasping, choking on your own breath.

Everything was chaos. The car spun, tipping slightly before jerking to a stop. For a moment, everything was still—then the world came rushing back in a torrent of pain and noise.

Your vision blurred as you tried to move, but your body wouldn’t respond. Your leg was pinned beneath the crumpled car door, and every tiny shift sent fresh waves of agony through your body. You could barely register the sound of your father’s frantic yelling, the way the rain tapped softly on the cracked windshield, the music that was still playing. You blinked, your vision swimming as your father freed himself from the wreckage. You saw him stagger out of the car, blood dripping from a gash on his forehead, his expression panicked, desperate. He tried to open your door, but it was crushed inward, trapping you in place. You heard him shout your name, but the sound felt distant, muffled, as though you were underwater. Seconds later everything went dark.

You sat between Soobin and Minji, the faint hum of your mother bustling in the background. The whole room smelled of the kimchi stew your mom cooked for dinner. She placed the final dish down, her apron still tied loosely around her waist. “Soobin,” she said, smoothing a stray hair from her forehead and handing him a bowl of rice. “How was class today?”  

Soobin scooped a generous spoonful from the bowl, a smile spreading as he dug in. “It was fine. Professor Kim’s still trying to crush our souls with assignments, though. I’ll probably have to pull another all-nighter.”  

Minji snorted, leaning across the table with a teasing grin. “When do you not pull all-nighters?” Soobin shot her a mock glare but didn’t argue. “The grind doesn’t stop,” he quipped.

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “What grind?” you teased, nudging his shoulder with your own.  

The light banter bounced around the table, filling the room with laughter. Minji had just launched into a story about her teacher tripping during class when your father cleared his throat. The sound sliced through the warmth like a blade, dragging all attention toward him.

His focus was zeroed on you. You felt the weight of his question before he even opened his mouth. 

“How’s physio going?” he asked, his tone more like an accusation than a question.  

You kept your eyes on your plate, your fork idly pushing your food around. “It’s fine,” you said, trying to sound neutral. “I had a good session yesterday. I’m starting to put some weight on my foot.”  

Your father’s fork froze mid-air, his expression darkening: “You’re already putting weight on it?” he asked, his voice tightening with disapproval.  

“Yes, Dad,” you replied, bracing yourself. “That’s how rehab works. I don’t just stay on crutches forever.”  

His hand gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles whitening. “You’re rushing it. I’ve been around injuries my whole career. Just because the therapist said you can doesn’t mean you should.”  

The fork in your hand trembled, and you set it down with a clink. The heat of frustration prickled at the back of your neck. “I’m following the plan they gave me. They know what they’re doing.”  

Your father leaned forward, his voice rising. “No, they don’t. They don’t care about your long-term recovery. They just want you off their caseload so they can move on to the next patient.”  

Anger surged in your chest, hot and sharp. “You’re not a doctor,” you snapped, your voice cutting through the tension like shattered glass. “I trust them more than I trust you when it comes to my body.”  

The room fell into a suffocating silence. Minji’s hand hovered over her bowl, frozen mid-bite, while Soobin stared at his plate, his jaw clenched. You met your father’s gaze, refusing to look away.

His voice dropped to an icy calm, each word deliberate and cutting. “I’m just trying to keep you from making a mistake. But if you think you know better, fine. Just don’t come crying to me when you’re back in surgery.”  

His words struck like a slap, but you swallowed the hurt, refusing to let it show. You clenched your fists under the table and took a big breath. Soobin glanced at you and nudged your foot with his in a silent sign of support.

“Actually, I was thinking about something that might help you,” your father continued in a casual tone, as if the argument moments ago hadn’t happened.  

You blinked, caught off guard by the abrupt pivot. “What?”  “The athletic department needs someone for PR for the men’s hockey team,” he said, his voice laced with an almost forced enthusiasm. “It’s a great opportunity for you to earn the credits you missed last semester.”  

Your stomach churned at the suggestion, the tension in the room amplifying tenfold. “No,” you said firmly.  “Dad, I really don’t want to do that. I’m not into hockey anymore. You know that.” “Why not? It’s a great way to get back into it. You did love it before the accident.” he pressed.

“You just answered your own question, Dad. Before the accident, I did love it.” You felt the frustration bubbling inside, fighting against the facade of calm you tried to maintain. 

Your mother interjected, her voice firm but caring. “Woosung, you need to ease off. Pushing her into this isn’t the answer. We talked about this before.” 

“Pushing? I’m just offering her a way back into something she once loved!” he snapped, his frustration mirroring your own. 

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, a mix of anger and hurt. “Mom, I appreciate you sticking up for me, but I can handle this. I do not want to do it, Dad.” 

Your father leaned back, crossing his arms. “I thought you might appreciate having something to focus on, a way to ease back in.” 

“It’s not about easing back in. It’s about not wanting to be part of that world anymore. I don’t want to help with hockey PR. I just want to focus on my studies and figure things out on my own,” you asserted, frustration edging your voice. 

Your father’s expression hardened, but you could see the concern behind it. “I just wanted to see you succeed. I thought this could help.” “It’s not what I need!” you exclaimed. “I’m tired of everyone expecting me to dive back into hockey just because I had so much potential. I don't have it anymore, okay? I need to figure out who I am without all of that. Helping with the team won't help me at all.”

“Fine,” he said curtly. “Do whatever you want.”  

The rest of dinner passed in an unbearable silence, the warmth and laughter from earlier now a distant memory. The clink of dishes and the faint hum of the kitchen fan were the only sounds as you counted the seconds until you could leave.  

When you finally stood to go to your room, your father called out from the living room, his voice gruff. “Y/N, just… don’t overdo it, okay? I don’t want to see you hurt again.”  

You paused in the doorway, the faint light from the hallway casting shadows across the room. “I know,” you muttered, the words hollow.  

As you made your way upstairs, the tightness in your chest refused to ease. In the sanctuary of your room, the air felt no lighter. You leaned back against your pillow, the familiar ceiling staring back at you. 

The sound of skates scraping against the ice echoed faintly through the arena as Heeseung leaned against the boards, catching his breath. Practice had just wrapped up, and the team was filtering out of the rink, chattering about drills and weekend plans. Coach Choi stood near the bench, his clipboard tucked under his arm, his sharp gaze following the last few stragglers off the ice. “Heeseung, got a minute?” the Coach called, his deep voice carrying easily over the ambient hum of the arena. Heeseung turned, brushing a gloved hand over his damp hair. “Sure!” He stepped off the ice, his blades clinking against the rubber flooring as he approached. His Coach gestured for him to sit down.

“I have been thinking about the team’s image,” the Coach began, his tone casual but deliberate.  

Heeseung raised an eyebrow. “Image?”  

Coach nodded, tucking the clipboard under his arm. “Yeah. You boys are doing great on the ice, but you’re not just players—you’re prospects. Scouts, sponsors, even alumni donors—they pay attention to more than just your games. They want to see personalities, professionalism, something marketable for their teams.”  

Heeseung crossed his arms, leaning slightly against the boards. “I am aware, sir. But what does that have to do with me?”  The Coach gave a small smile, the kind that hinted at plans already set in motion. “I’ve been in touch with the athletic department. They agreed we need someone to handle the team’s social media—build a strong public image, keep things polished.”  

Heeseung tilted his head, curious. “A PR manager?”. He wasn’t aware that the team had the funds to hire a person to post a few pics of them on instagram to appease the sponsors. As the captain he was included in quite a few organizational meetings and has had to endure endless lectures about how the boys are not supposed to go overboard when partying because it shines a bad light on the whole team and how it could compromise the career of everyone there. But never had he heard anything about a PR manager. 

“Exactly. I was thinking of Y/N,” Coach said, nodding, “she is missing a few credits and this would be an easy and quick solution. That way we dont have to do interviews, since I do know my daughter quite well.” 

Heeseung blinked, caught off guard. He knew you, if only vaguely. You have met at a few team events over the last year and at a few parties. Soobin introduced you as his sister and warned everyone that you were off-limits. He knew that Beomgyu was quite close to you, so he assumed you weren’t off limits for everyone. The few conversations you had with him gave him the impression that you were quite fun. He also knew that you were hot. He respectfully checked you out a few times and then mentally bleached his eyes, when he realized whom he was looking at.

“Your daughter?” he asked your father, his coach.  

The Coach nodded, his expression softening slightly. “She knows hockey inside and out. And she’s good with this kind of stuff—social media, PR, that kind of thing. It’ll be good for her, and it’ll help the team.”  

Heeseung hesitated. He didn’t know you well enough to have an opinion, but he could guess that working alongside the team—especially under your father’s watchful eye—wouldn’t be simple. Soobin had told him that his father was quite overbearing with his sister after a car accident and how it's annoying the whole family. “Are you sure she wants to do this?” Heeseung asked carefully.  

Coach’s expression shifted, a flicker of something unreadable passing across his face. “She’ll do fine. She’s been looking for something to focus on, and this is a good opportunity for her. Plus, it’s not like she’s starting from scratch—she grew up around this sport.”  

Heeseung nodded slowly, still uncertain. “Okay. What do you need from me?”  

“I need you to help make this transition smooth,” Coach said, his tone firm. “She’s going to be around a lot, and I don’t want her feeling like she’s an outsider. Make sure the guys treat her with respect, and if she needs anything, you help her out.”  

Heeseung frowned slightly. “You’re not asking me to babysit her, right?”  

Coach let out a low chuckle. “No, she doesn’t need babysitting. But you’re the captain. It’s part of your job to make sure the team stays cohesive. She’s here to help, not to be a distraction or a target.”  

Heeseung considered this for a moment, then nodded. “Got it. When does she start?”  

“Next week,” Coach said, his tone decisive. “The athletic department’s finalizing the details, but she’ll be here soon enough.”  

As he walked away, his thoughts lingered on the unexpected news. He knew having you around would be an adjustment for the team—and maybe for you, too. But if Coach trusted you to take on this role, then he’d make sure to give you a fair shot.  

“Y/N! Over here!” Chaeryoung exclaimed when you entered the small café on campus the next day. The café had been closed for a few weeks after the original owner passed away, and his son had taken over. Many students visited the old barista more than once a week, and everyone had been distraught by the news of his passing. When his son reopened the café, getting a seat had become quite a challenge.

You slid into the booth opposite Chaeryoung and carefully set down your crutches, making sure they were out of the way of the bustling café. The warm aroma of coffee and fresh pastries enveloped you as you took a moment to soak in the familiar atmosphere. “Hi, guys! It's so nice to be back here. How was Kinesiology today? Did your presentation go well?”

“Ugh,” Yeji groaned, dramatically resting her head on your shoulder. “I don't even want to think about it. I thought I was okay until Sunghoon and EJ presented. Now I feel utterly incompetent.”

Chaeryoung chuckled, shaking her head with a teasing smirk. “You’re being dramatic! What did you expect? They’ve got that whole jock thing going for them.”

“Not to feel like an idiot because some utterly pretty hockey players have the time to create a more or less perfect presentation even though they don’t have time for anything but training and partying?” Yeji retorted, her voice rising in exasperation. She turned to you, her expression softening. “We already ordered for you. I hope you’re alright with hot chocolate?”

“Sure! Thank you, love. Also, Sunghoon isn’t a hockey jock, he’s an ice skater,” you reminded your friends with a knowing grin.

“Hockey, skating, yada yada, it’s all the same. They spend a lot of time on the ice,” Ryujin shrugged.

Lia leaned in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Speaking of ice hockey players, I had international law with Jay today. He looked like he was going to slam his head into the table when Professor Binns started handing out the grading sheets for the exams. Did their game not go well last week?”

You shrugged, the corners of your mouth twitching up as you recalled the conversation with Soobin. “Considering my dad told Soobin relatively harshly he’s supposed to get his head back in the game, I assume it didn’t go well"

“Oh, bummer. That’s probably why they didn’t go to the swimming team’s party last weekend. It was wild!" Chaeryoung nodded, her enthusiasm infectious.

“What party?” you asked, genuinely curious, since you’d been out of town visiting your aunt in Riverfield.

“Felix invited us to a party at their house. Well, it started as a small meetup, but suddenly it wasn’t small anymore,” Chaeryoung explained, her eyes widening at the memory.

Yeji waved her hand dismissively. “You didn’t miss out on anything, though. We ended up leaving early because it got a little too crazy for my taste,” she said, accepting the steaming drinks from the waitress. 

You opened the door to your families house. The aroma of the reheated Samgyetang from the day before wafted through the air, instantly making your stomach growl.

“Hey, you’re back!” Soobin called from the living room, where he was sprawled on the couch, game controller in hand. He glanced up, pausing his game. “Did you bring me anything?”

You shook your head, laughing. “If you wanted something from Corner's Creek, you should have told me when we saw each other in the cafeteria.”

“Pfft, why should I even have to ask? If I were you, I’d bring my precious brother some cake without him having to ask,” he replied, flashing a cheeky grin. “How was the café? Still as good as when Mr. Yoon was there?”

“Yeah. His son changed a few of the drinks on the menu, but they sounded nice! And they now do those cookie croissant waffle thingies? Amazing, honestly.” You plopped down on the sofa next to your older brother, carefully lifting up your leg into a more comfortable position. Soobin made an interesting noise at the thought of eating one of those.

“Did you think about the internship offer Dad gave you? I heard him talking to Heeseung about it. How you’re missing credits and how he wants you to take it,” your brother asked, tone careful.

“Don’t get me started on it. He’s been pushing this internship with the hockey team on me like it’s life or death,” you said, stirring your chili absentmindedly.

“Maybe he just wants to connect with you.” Soobin’s tone softened. “He might think this internship is a way to bridge the gap. You know it’s his world—and it was yours too, before the accident.”

You sighed, leaning against the counter. “You’re starting to sound like him. Honestly, Soobin, that’s not supposed to happen until I’m an aunt to your kids. I just don’t care about hockey anymore. It feels like every time I turn around, it’s all about hockey, hockey, hockey.”

“Look, Y/N, I get it. But if you need those credits to graduate, maybe it’s worth considering.” He crossed his arms, looking at you earnestly. “If anyone gives you trouble, I’ll have your back. I’ll just remind them that I’m still the older brother and boss around here.”

You couldn’t help but laugh dryly. “Right, you’ll just walk in and be like, ‘Watch out, boys! Y/N’s brother is here!’” “Exactly!” He chuckled, and for a moment, the tension eased. “But seriously, you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for. If you can handle what you’ve been through, this internship is nothing.”

“Maybe. I just wish it didn’t feel so… forced,” you replied, blowing on the steaming food on your spoon. “I want to find something I’m passionate about. Also, it feels unfair to others who actually care about it. I’d be something of a nepo baby.”

“It’s just one semester. If you hate it, you can quit. But at least you’ll know you tried. Plus, who knows? You might end up being the best hockey PR person out there. I mean, what do you think I hear? Coach’s son playing in his team, the co-captain? Nepo baby runs in our blood."

You rolled your eyes again, but this time, there was a hint of a smile. “I’ll think about it, okay? But I’m not making any promises.” “Fair enough.” Soobin shrugged, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Just promise me you’ll at least consider it. Besides, it’s not like you have any better options right now.” You nodded slowly, knowing he was right. “Yeah, I guess.” After a night brooding over what Soobin said, you decided to go with it and accept the offer. He was right—if anything, it was just one semester, right? You’d get your credits, your dad would get off your back, and you’d have Soobin and your father, the literal coach, as backup if you needed it.

So after your last class the day after, you went to the ice rink and carefully knocked on the door to your father’s office. “Come in,” your father called through the closed door. You opened the door and pressed your lips into a tight smile when you saw him hunched over some documents

“Y/N,” he stood up, “how can I help you?”

You walked closer to his table and sat down in the chair across from his desk. “I talked to Soobin yesterday. About the internship.”

A moment of silence stretched on as your father waited for you to continue. “Did you decide to take up my offer?” he asked.

You took a deep breath. “Yeah, I decided to give it a shot. Just for one semester, though. I’m not promising anything beyond that.”

Your father’s expression shifted from anticipation to a mixture of relief and disappointment. “That’s great, Y/N! I really think this could be a good opportunity for you. You’ll learn a lot about PR and social media, and you might even discover a new passion.”

You rolled your eyes, already feeling the frustration bubbling up inside you. “Dad, it’s not about discovering a passion for hockey or PR. I just need the credits to graduate. I’m not expecting some life-changing revelation from this.”

“Then why even bother?” he retorted, crossing his arms defensively. “If you’re going into it with that attitude, you won’t get anything out of it.”

“Because I don’t want to keep disappointing you,” you shot back, your voice rising. “You’ve made it pretty clear that you think I should be involved in hockey somehow. This is just a way to keep the peace, right?”

Your father clenched his jaw, visibly frustrated. “I’m not trying to force you into anything, Y/N. I just thought you’d want to be part of something that means so much to our family. This isn’t just about hockey; it’s about being part of a team, a community.”

You leaned forward, your palms pressing against the cool surface of his desk. “But I don’t want to be part of that community, Dad! Not anymore! All I ever hear from you is hockey, hockey, hockey. I care about things other than hockey.”

He stood up abruptly, pushing his chair back with a loud scrape. “I didn’t mean to put that pressure on you. But you need to understand that I’m proud of what I do, and I thought you’d want to be a part of it. I thought maybe being around the team would help you feel less isolated."

You stood too, feeling a mixture of anger and hurt. “It’s not about your pride, Dad! It’s about my life and my choices. I don’t want to feel obligated to fulfill your expectations. I just want to be me. And for the record, I am not isolated. I have friends and a life! It’s just not hockey.”

He softened for a moment, and you could see the conflict in his eyes. “I know, Y/N. But you have to understand that I’m coming from a place of love. I want the best for you. I thought this would help you find your way, especially with how difficult things have been for you.”

“Maybe you need to let me find my own way instead of trying to steer me down the path you’ve laid out,” you said, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside you. For a moment, silence hung between you, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

“Okay,” he finally said, his voice quieter. “I’ll back off. But I hope you give this a real chance, for both our sakes.”

You nodded, feeling a mixture of relief and uncertainty. “I’ll try, Dad. But just know I’m doing this for me, not for you.”

He offered a tight smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You arrived at the rink an hour earlier than scheduled, more out of nervousness than necessity. The familiar smell of the ice, mixed with the faint hum of the arena’s machinery, makes you stop for a second. Standing near the glass, you watched a few players skate laps. The sounds of blades cutting into the ice reverberate in the empty rink, and for a moment, you feel a pull in your chest. You press your crutches into the ground, standing straighter as you try to shake off the creeping frustration. You've gotten good at suppressing it over the years, convincing yourself that you’ve moved on.

“Are you lost or something?” You blink and turn to see Heeseung, standing a few feet away, looking amused. Lost in thought, you didn’t hear him approach until his voice interrupted your moment of self pity. You turned around and caught the moment where he recognized you.

“Y/N? Didn’t expect to see you here this early.” He settled his bag down next to you.

“I could say the same to you,” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “But I guess the captain needs to be the first one on the ice, right?”

Heeseung grinned and shrugged. “Part of the job,” he said, then nodded towards the rink. “Are you already trying to figure out how to make those losers good on Tiktok?”

You shifted your weight slightly, gripping your crutches a little tighter. “Something like that,” you muttered, glancing back at the ice.

He looked at you. “You sound thrilled.”

“Yeah, I am absolutely thrilled,” you said, your voice cool.

“Did your dad convince you to do this?”, his eyes softened a bit.

You didn’t know how much Heeseung already knew about your situation, how much Soobin or his friends that you were also close to have told him so you just shrugged: “Honestly? Kinda. But what can I say, I am here now so there is no turning back, right?”

“God wait until you get to know the others. You will regret your decision. I don’t think we have a lot of potential to be the Tiktok star your dad wants us to be.”, he chuckled

“God Hee, don’t remind me.”, you lean your head onto the glass that separated you and the rink, cringing at the cold sensation. He laughed out loud and patted your back. Someone shouted his name and he grabbed his gear from the floor, while you leaned back again.

“Alright,” he said, watching you with a curious gleam in his eyes. “I’ll leave you to do your very important PR duties. But, uh, if you ever need anything, don’t be afraid to ask.” He pushed his hair out of his face and winked at you. You just rolled your eyes and bid him goodbye. 

Your office was a small, window-lit room with one side dominated by clutter. On the messy side, stacks of papers, unopened mail, and scattered office supplies covered multiple surfaces, including an old wooden filing cabinet. A half-empty bookshelf leaned under the weight of folders, some piled haphazardly on top of one another. Boxes of miscellaneous items were stacked in a corner, threatening to topple. In one corner stood a seemingly clean desk, which you assumed to be the one you would be working from. You settled in, trying to ignore the mess on the other side of the room, while pulling out your laptop to take a look at the team’s social media accounts. 

A few hours later, you found yourself sitting in front of a flipchart, surrounded by notes and scribbles of ideas for content. Your research had turned up dozens of trends and challenges that could work for the hockey team’s social accounts, but your enthusiasm was running low. The chair you were sitting on felt like it was designed for maximum discomfort, and you were seriously considering bringing your wheelchair the next time. You sighed, shifting your weight in a futile attempt to find a more comfortable position. Your hip started aching about 20 minutes ago.

Just then, the door creaked open slightly, and Heeseung’s head popped in. “You surviving in here?"

Without looking up, you muttered, “Barely. What do you want, Heeseung?”

He chuckled and stepped fully into the room, leaning casually against the wall. “Nothing much,” he said, flashing his trademark grin. “Just thought I’d check in. You know, make sure the new PR girl isn’t drowning in spreadsheets or choking on influencer jargon.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m not drowning. Yet.”

“Well, that’s good,” he replied, pushing himself off the wall and taking a step closer to the desk. “Though you kinda look like you’re this close from walking out of here and never coming back.”

You snorted despite yourself, leaning back and stretching your arms. “Trust me. This chair? Torture. It makes me want to get out of here asap.”

As he moved closer, you noticed a faint, fresh scent—like soap and something woody, maybe a hint of citrus. He must have just showered. His hair was still damp, a little messy. He looked very attractive in the annoyingly bright light of your office.

Heeseung pulled up a chair for himself and sat down across from you, resting his arms on the table. “So, what’s the plan? Are you trying to turn us into TikTok stars?”

You shrugged, gesturing to the flipchart. “That, or I’ll at least try to make sure you guys don’t look like total idiots online. There’s a fine line. A good start would be acceptable Instagram accounts. Tell me why some of you post random pictures of food with 20 filters slapped onto them.” You shifted in your seat, trying to ignore how nice he smelled, but it was hard not to notice. You weren't sure why, but it was definitely a little distracting. Get a grip, Y/N.

“Ah, come on,” he said, leaning forward with a grin. “We’re already halfway to ‘total idiots.’ You’ll just make us look... what? Funny idiots? Also my Instagram is pretty and aesthetic!”

“Something like that,” you muttered, unable to suppress a small smile. “I found some trends, figured we could hop on a few of them. I’ve got ideas for locker room Q&As, pre-game routines, that kind of thing.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a plan,” Heeseung said, nodding as he scanned the notes. “So, when do we start?”

“We?” you scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Last I checked, I’m the PR person. You’re just the guy with a stick trying to hit a rubber thingy.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Come on, Y/N. You’ll need my charming face to pull off half of these ideas.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes again, though it was becoming less from irritation and more out of habit. “Oh yeah, because that’s exactly what’s going to save this campaign—your charm.”

“Admit it,” he teased, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms. “You know I’m right.”

“Admit what? That you’ve got an ego the size of this rink?” you shot back, shaking your head. “Yeah, no thanks.”

Heeseung grinned, clearly unfazed by your sarcasm. “Hey, can’t blame a guy for knowing his strengths.” You let out a soft chuckle. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Heeseung."

He stood up, stretching lazily, and you noticed how his shirt pulled just slightly across his chest. You quickly averted your eyes, but not before catching the way his muscles shifted beneath the fabric. Okay, yeah. Definitely kind of hot. 

“Alright, alright. I’ll leave you to your spreadsheets and dance challenges. But seriously, if you need anything—or, you know, some extra ‘charm’—you know where to find me.”

You smirked, shooing him toward the door. “I’ll keep that in mind. Now go away, I’ve got real work to do.”

He threw you a mock salute as he backed out of the room. “Yes, ma’am. Just don’t forget to give me a heads-up when you need me to be the face of your operation.” “Don’t hold your breath,” you called after him, shaking your head as the door closed behind him.

The next day, you were sitting at a round table in the student library, your textbooks spread out in front of you, trying to focus on the notes for your upcoming exam. Chaeryong sat next to you, furiously typing something into her laptop, while Beomgyu, who had already given up on studying, leaned back in his chair with his phone in hand, holding your injured leg on his lap. You sighed and leaned back in your chair, finally breaking the silence. "I took that internship, by the way."

Ryujin looked up from her screen, raising an eyebrow. "The hockey one?"

You nodded. "Yeah, the PR thing for the men’s team. Dad convinced me, and Soobin kind of guilted me into it too. It’s only for a semester, so I figured I might as well."

Beomgyu snorted, glancing up from his phone. "Oh boy, you’re going to be stuck with us now. We’ll have to treat you like royalty, Coach’s daughter."

You rolled your eyes. "Please don’t. The last thing I need is people treating me any differently."

"Don’t worry," Beomgyu grinned, his eyes playful. "I’ll make sure the team knows to mess with you as much as possible. No special treatment."

Before you could continue, the conversation was interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice.

“Hey, there you are!” Soobin’s tall frame came into view, followed closely by Yeonjun, who stopped behind Chaeryoung to press a kiss onto her head: ”Hi baby.”

She glanced at them, unimpressed. “What’s this about?"

“We’re kidnapping them,” Yeonjun said with a smirk, gesturing at you and Beomgyu. “Coach needs everyone at practice, and Y/N here has a meeting with the team.”

Beomgyu groaned, half-joking as he packed up his things. “And here I was, hoping to spend my afternoon in peace. Guess not.”

You, however, were a little more reluctant. “Wait, I thought I didn’t have to do anything with the team until later this week? I haven’t finished on collecting my thoughts? I am starting from 0 and i am not investing my free time into research?”

Soobin shook his head, grinning. “Nope, the sooner you meet everyone, the better.”

Chaeryoung leaned back in her chair, laughing. “Good luck with that, Y/N. You’re going to need it.”

You shot her a look before standing up, grabbing your crutches, and letting Soobin lead the way.

The locker room door swung open and the noise (and borderline disgusting smell) hit you all at once— talking, laughing, skates clinking. Yeonjun clapped his hands together and announced dramatically, “Alright, listen up! We have a very important guest today.”

Beomgyu chimed in, “Try not to scare her off, okay? She’s family. Like in a literal and theoretical way.”

You rolled your eyes at their antics but couldn’t help smiling. These two were practically brothers to you—they spent so much time at your house growing up that your mom would always joke that she had three sons instead of one. When all three of them got accepted into the sports scholarship Delicis offered your parents threw a party for their sons, which ended in all of you crashing over at Yeonjuns place after you all drank a bit too much of the sparkling wine. Just the thought of the day after made your stomach upset. 

Heeseung, sitting on a bench tying his skates, looked up and spotted you. He grinned at you as he stood up, leaning casually against the lockers. “Hey, if it isn’t our new PR expert. Early again. You sure you’re not secretly excited to be here?”

You scoffed, leaning into your crutches a bit. “No, Heeseung, I’m not excited to be here. I was kidnapped and should be studying econ right now.”

Jay, who was in the same economy course as you, groaned. "Please don't remind me. I feel like I am at least 10 weeks behind and the semester started four weeks ago."

A few of the guys laughed, but Soobin interrupted them: “Alright, listen up,” he said, his voice carrying authority. “Y/N’s going to be helping us with PR this season. Treat her with respect and do what she says, got it?”

Trying to ease your own discomfort, you forced a smile and crossed your arms. “Look, I’m just here to do my job. I won’t annoy you all too much!”

One of the players, EJ?, leaned back against the lockers with a smirk. “Does that mean we are going to be the next Charlie D’amilio?”

You laughed, unable to help yourself. “That depends. Can you dance?”

Jake, still sitting with his skates half-done, quipped, “I’d pay to see EJ try to pull off one of those TikTok dances.” The room erupted in laughter and you felt some of the tension in your shoulders release at the sound.

A few days later, you opted to skip class after an especially grueling session of physiotherapy. You lay sprawled on the worn sofa in Ryujin’s appartment, breathing in the comforting aroma of spaghetti carbonara simmering in the kitchen.

You called out over the sizzling bacon, “I swear to God. I can feel the bruises coming. My legs and my left ass cheek are going to be black and blue tomorrow. I won’t be able to properly sit down!”

“Nobody is seeing your legs or your ass, girl. Just wear a pair of pants, and the problem is solved,” Ryujin shot back, stirring the pan with a wooden spoon. The warm, buttery smell mingled with the salty scent of bacon, making your stomach growl in anticipation.

“Unless you want to show someone your ass?” she teased, glancing back at you with a playful smirk.

“Not really. Who would want to see my blue and black scarred arse unprompted? Do you want to see? I’ll undress just for you, baby. Magic Mike style. Magic Y/N!” You wiggled your eyebrows, shifting the frozen chickpeas from your ankle to heave yourself into your wheelchair.

Ryujin rolled her eyes, laughing as she scooped the cooked pasta into the pan. “I love you, and I have seen plenty of your naked ass already, but I don’t need you to erotically strip for me, Y/N. You are not really my type, I’m sorry.”

You clutched your chest in mock offense. “You wound me, Ryujin!”

“Ha ha! I’m sure we can find someone who would like to see your ass. There are plenty of hot guys on campus that are horny 24/7,” she shot back, glancing over her shoulder as she added a sprinkle of cheese to the mix.

“Sure. And 25 of them are on the hockey team,” you deadpanned, your mind wandering to the group of boys you were now working with. The thought of the players made you chuckle to yourself.

“I mean, sure. But all 25? Soobin is part of that horny group as well?” Ryujin handed your cutlery.

“Honestly? Yeah. I mean, Dad is pretty strict with him and Minji about dating since he thinks they would get distracted, but Soobin definitely appreciates some good-looking arses. Not mine, though. That would be disgusting.” You shuddered at the thought.

“Girl. Ew,” Ryujin replied flatly, shaking her head, and you both burst into laughter.

A few hours later, you rolled into the rink, greeted by the sound of skates scraping against ice and the faint scent of sweat. The boys’ training session was already in full swing, punctuated by grunts and your dad’s authoritative voice barking out encouragement and critiques. Navigating your way through the rink was fairly manageable in your wheelchair. You opted to maneuver around the rink rather than suffer through sitting on that demonic seat in your office for a few hours, especially after gaining a few bruises on your behind and legs. Seriously, your physiotherapist could have not put her entire body weight on her elbow. You didn’t care that it would help your muscles relax? About every muscle in your body was tensed while she tried to relax one in your arse?

You had asked your dad for a few items from home to make the room feel a bit more inviting. You made him buy some more plants and a floor lamp for a more comfortable light source.  A cherry and a pink dinosaur sonny angel were sitting on your desk alongside the greenery. You brought printed pictures of your friends and various art prints, but without your crutches, you decided to leave the task of hanging them up for another day. If you were to work here for the next six months you could definitely personalize the room a bit. 

You were mid-scroll through your R&B playlist when you heard a light knock on your office door. Without looking up, you called out, “Come in!”

Yeonjun poked his head in, flashing his usual grin. “Hello my dearest Y/N!”

Behind him, Soobin and Beomgyu strolled in, still in their sweaty practice gear, looking completely worn out. Beomgyu flopped dramatically into the chair near your desk that Heeseung never put back. “Yeah, sure, come in and just take over my whole workspace with your stinky gear,” you teased, though you didn’t mind the company.

Beomgyu groaned, stretching his legs out like he owned the place. “This break isn’t long enough. Coach is killing us out there. I swear I’m going to die.”

Soobin rolled his eyes, perching on the edge of your desk while Yeonjun leaned against the wall. “You’ll survive. We’ve had worse drills.”

Yeonjun smirked. “Speak for yourself. I’m not built for this much cardio.”

You laughed. “Maybe you should stick to dancing for TikTok, Yeonjun. You know, where you can actually breathe.”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “That’s where my talents really shine. Wait until you see the TikToks I’ll be making for the team.”

When it was time for the boys to go back into the rink all three of them groaned. Beomgyu let out an exaggerated sigh. “I’m not moving from this chair. I don’t care that its uncomfortable.”

Yeonjun glanced around the room, raising an eyebrow at the mismatched furniture. “Speaking of uncomfortable... this office is seriously lacking. We need to get Coach to clear out the second half of the room so we can put in a sofa or something.”

You glanced at the cluttered back half of the office, filled with old sports equipment, boxes, and random items. “You’re not wrong. This place could use some serious cleaning.”

Beomgyu perked up. “Oh, a sofa would be amazing. We could take naps during breaks.”

You grinned, but gave Soobin a playful push toward the door. “Okay, okay, design committee. Go back to practice before Dad drags you out of here himself.”

As they shuffled out, Beomgyu gave you a lazy salute. “We’ll be back with a proposal for the Coach!” You laughed, shaking your head as they left the room, leaving you in the quiet once again

Heeseung had been at the rink longer than usual tonight. After practice had officially ended, he stayed behind for some extra drills, working on his shots while his mind wandered.

He was standing in the shower after, letting the hot water wash away the tension from his muscles. The clean scent of soap and his woodsy cologne clung to him as he dressed, ready to finally head home. He was on his way out, thinking about his bed, when he saw the light still on in your office room.

He peered through the open door and saw you still at your desk, your face illuminated by the glow of your laptop. He hadn’t expected to see you there so late. Most of the team had left, and the rink was practically deserted. What were you still doing here?

He knocked lightly on the doorframe. “You’re still here?” You glanced up, looking more exhausted than surprised.

“You too?” you shot back, though there was a flicker of warmth in your tired eyes. “I thought everyone had gone home by now.”

“I did some extra laps,” he said with a lazy smirk as he stepped inside, making his way over to your desk, his damp hair falling slightly into his eyes. His eyes drifted across the various decorations you had brought into the office. He picked up one of the tiny figurines from your desk and turned it over in his hand with a grin. “What’s with these little guys? A personal touch?”

You gave him a mock glare, clearly more amused than offended. “They’re called sonny angels, and yes, this office was depressing. I needed to liven it up.”

Heeseung laughed softly, putting the figurine back down carefully. “Why would you bring naked angles.”

You rolled your eyes again. “Don’t make fun of my babies. Besides, I’m pretty sure a pink dinosaur would look amazing in your locker. Might even give you a few extra goals on the ice.”

Heeseung laughed, setting the figure down gently. “Oh, for sure. Nothing screams ‘fearless hockey captain’ like a pink dinosaur mascot.”, he sat down on the edge of your desk, “So, what’s keeping you here so late?”

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “Just finishing up a presentation for the team. It’s taking longer than I thought.”

Heeseung glanced over at the cluttered desk, noting the piles of papers and sticky notes you were using. “And you couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

“Nope. I like torturing myself,” you said dryly, then raised an eyebrow as he continued to toy with one of the angels. “Are you done judging my office decor now?”

Heeseung twirled the figurine in his fingers, then squinted at it. They did look cute, somehow. “I mean, I’ve got questions. First off, what’s up with this one?” He held up a small pink angel wearing a dinosaur costume. “Did you really choose this? And why is the other one naked?”

You groaned, rolling your eyes. “No! I wanted the red dinosaur one but kept getting the pink one instead. Three times! So, this is what I’m stuck with. And honestly I am not sure but they are cute.”

Heeseung laughed, genuinely amused by the annoyance in your voice. “So you’re telling me this cute little thing is the result of failure? That’s tragic.” He shook his head, mock-sympathetic, before placing the pink dinosaur angel thing back on your desk with exaggerated care

“Tragic doesn’t even cover it,” you replied with a deadpan expression. “I have one in my room, one in my car, and now this sad thing is stuck here, reminding me of my poor luck every day.”

Heeseung chuckled. “Well, pink dinosaur or not, it’s got character.” You just laughed at that. He watched you for a moment, noticing how your shoulders were slightly hunched. His gaze dropped to the wheelchair you were sitting in. He hadn’t seen you in it much before today. You usually relied on crutches when you were out and about. His curiosity got the better of him: “You alright today?” he asked, his voice softer now. “Saw you using the chair earlier. Tough day?”

You hesitated, and for a moment, he thought you wouldn’t answer. But then you sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Physio was brutal. Sometimes it’s just easier to use the chair instead of crutches. Less strain, you know?”

Heeseung nodded slowly, processing your words. His chest tightened a little at how nonchalantly you explained it. Like it was just another part of your day, no big deal. He wished he could ask more—about what happened, how you went from being an athlete to sitting in this chair—but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It wasn’t his place, and he wasn’t about to make you relive something painful just to satisfy his curiosity. He couldn’t imagine having to adjust to something like that, especially after living a life as active as yours. Soobin claimed you were good—like, really good, that you had a future in hockey, but... He shook the thought away, not wanting to dwell on what you had lost. It didn’t seem fair, and it wasn’t something he could fix.

“You know,” he said, looking around in the room. “This office still feels so crammed and uninviting. You need a couch or something.”

You raised an eyebrow, your playful smirk returning. “A couch, huh? You are the second person to tell me that today?”

He grinned, setting the picture back down. “Actually, Yeonjun and I were thinking about it even before you had the office. We need to get Coach to clear out the junk on the other side of the room so we can move in a couch. You’d have a nice place to chill while pretending to work.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “And by ‘chill,’ you mean take naps, right?”

“Exactly. I’d probably use it more than you.” He made a mental note to talk to the Coach and Yeonjun about it. The two of them almost had the Coach to approve of their idea before it was decided you would move into this room. Honestly it was probably better for them to not have a sofa here. He got a headache when he thought of the prospect of finding people doing something unholy here.

Heeseung glanced at the clock. It was late—too late for you to still be working and for him to still be in the rink. He frowned, leaning back on the desk. “You’re not staying here alone, right?” he asked, his voice a little more serious.

You looked up. “I’m almost done. I’ll leave soon.

“Yeah, no,” Heeseung said, shaking his head. “I’m not leaving you here by yourself. It’s dark, and the rink is practically empty.”

You gave him a half-amused, half-exasperated look. “You’re not seriously going to babysit me, are you?”

He crossed his arms, standing firm. “Pretty much. I’m not letting you argue your way out of this.”

You sighed, clearly not in the mood to fight him on it. “Fine,” you relented, though he could tell you weren’t really annoyed. “But I’ll be here a while. I still have some things to finish.”

He grinned, leaning back on your desk like he had all the time in the world. “I’m great company, remember? Besides, someone’s gotta make sure your pink angel dinosaur thingy doesn’t run away.”

You laughed, shaking your head in mock disbelief. “I think I can handle my own angels, but... thanks.” He plopped himself down in your empty office chair, watching as you worked, occasionally teasing you about the presentation or critiquing the décor you’d added to the room.

When you stepped into the rink after your classes on Thursday, the first thing you noticed was Jay, EJ, and Beomgyu hauling the old wooden filing cabinet that had been collecting dust in your office. They were making quite the effort, each one grunting as they maneuvered the bulky piece of furniture toward the exit. All three were struggling, shouting different variations of "Hey!" as they saw you walk in.

“Hi! What's going on here?” you called out, laughing a little at the sight.

Beomgyu glanced back at you, a proud grin on his face. “We’re upgrading your office!” he shouted, nearly dropping his end of the cabinet as they stumbled toward the exit.

“Oh?” you scrunched your nose in confusion.

On your way to your office, you passed a couple more of the boys—Taehyun, Jake, and even Sunghoon—all carrying random bits of old furniture and equipment that must’ve been living in your office forever. The rink seemed unusually lively for an off day.

When you finally stepped into your office, you were met with the sight of Soobin, Heeseung, and Yeonjun cleaning the floor of the cluttered side of the small room. While Jay was reading the instructions to the frame of a ikea sofa, which was still in its parcells leaned next to the door.

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Okay, seriously… What’s going on?”

Soobin shot you a sheepish grin. “Well, I figured that after Dad basically forced you and I guilt tripped you into accepting the internship, the least we could do is make this place less awful.”

“So we talked to Coach Lee,” Heeseung added, clearly amused by the situation. “And your dad.” He grinned, standing with his arms crossed, looking far too pleased with himself. “And guess what? You’re getting a sofa. A nice one too.”

Your eyebrows shot up.

“Yeah, well,” Soobin jumped in, “Coach Lee kind of convinced him. Said you needed a place to rest. And since Dad’s all for you being extra careful, he gave in. Reluctantly. He wasn’t thrilled, but he said yes.”

Yeonjun smirked from his spot against the desk. “So, congratulations on your sofa.”

You blinked, still trying to process. “You really convinced him to get you your sofa? For the record, that was fully your idea, I did not wish for one.” You looked around, almost not believing it.

Yeonjun, who had been lounging on the cleared desk, leaned forward. “Hey, we’re doing this for you, alright? You deserve a place to chill. But, you know... if a nap happens here or there...”

“Yeah, I figured,” you teased, rolling your eyes, “of course. You’re all just so thoughtful.” But despite your playful tone, you really were touched. They’d gone through the trouble of getting permission from your dad, which was no easy task, and now they were basically transforming your workspace into something a lot more comfortable.

Soobin shrugged, feigning indifference. “Hey, at least now you won’t be stuck in this depressing office.”

“Yeah,” Heeseung chimed in, his grin growing wider. “And now you’ll have even more space for your red dinosaur angel collection.”

Yeonjun gasped theatrically, hand over his heart like you’d just broken some unspoken rule. “Wait, wait, wait—you pulled the red one and didn’t tell me? What kind of betrayal is this?”

You groaned, already regretting letting them see your desk decorations,“They’re Sonny Angels!" You sighed, shaking your head. “I didn’t pull the red one, Yeonjun.”

Heeseung chuckled, walking over to your desk, picking up one of your Sonny Angels. “Well, when you do, make sure to put it right here. It can be the centerpiece of the whole office.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but the teasing was making it hard to stay serious. “I’m not turning this office into a shrine for my Angels, but thanks for the suggestion.” Jay snickered from where he was now heaving one parcel towards Heeseung.

Soobin knocked his shoulder into yours, “Honestly, Y/N. Your office was lacking big time. We gave it some character!”

“Yeah,” Yeonjun added with a grin, “and when we’re not napping in here, you can totally use it too.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Gee, thanks. I’ll make sure to reserve my own office for whenever you’re not busy.”

Despite all the teasing, you felt your chest warm with appreciation. The fact that they went out of their way to make sure you’d be comfortable, going as far as convincing both the coach and your dad—meant a lot.

“Seriously though,” you said, looking between them, “thank you. I really appreciate it.”

Heeseung waved you off, but his smile was genuine. “Hey, anything for the team’s PR girl. You are able to ruin everyone's reputation in here.”

“And we can’t let you suffer in this sad office,” Soobin added with a smirk.

Jay stretched dramatically, shooting you a wink. “Now you can suffer in comfort.”

Heeseung wiped the sweat from his brow after the grueling training session, his legs heavy and tired from the extra drills. It was as if your dad had dialed up the intensity after seeing the boys have a bit of fun with you earlier. Heeseung chuckled at the memory of EJ’s goofy dance moves, knowing full well that your father had caught wind of their little behind-the-scenes moment. "No fun allowed," he thought wryly, shaking his head. Heeseung wasn’t the Coach’s biggest fan. He was too strict, especially when they lost, and lately, his overprotectiveness toward you had only made things tenser. Heeseung got it, though. It couldn’t be easy to see his daughter in a wheelchair after being an athlete herself, but still, the coach’s comments were always a little too pointed, a little too controlling.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Heeseung found himself walking toward your office, knowing that even though the rest of the rink was quiet and nearly empty, you’d probably still be there, editing videos or catching up on schoolwork. It had become a familiar routine over the last few weeks—after most of the team had left, Heeseung would often wander up to find you, usually hunched over your laptop, absorbed in your work. Sure enough, when he knocked lightly and poked his head in, there you were. Your wheelchair was parked near the desk, and you had your laptop open with a few TikTok videos you’d been editing playing on repeat.

"Hey," Heeseung greeted, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “Still working?”

You glanced up from your screen, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “Yeah, just editing some stuff for the ‘Get to Know the Player’ series. I can’t believe I got EJ to do that dance.”

Heeseung laughed at the memory, throwing himself onto the sofa that had recently appeared in your office.

"I am just trying to make sure I don’t accidentally make EJ look too good at dancing.”, you shrugged and replayed the video.

Heeseung snorted, pulling up a show he’d been watching lately. “You couldn’t make him look good at dancing even if you tried. He’s a lost cause.”.

You laughed out loud, shaking your head as you saved your work. “I think it’s charming. And it’s getting views, so…”

“Of course it is,” Heeseung said, grinning. “The team’s already loving the content. They’ll do anything for their fifteen seconds of fame.”

He stretched out on your sofa, letting out a loud, exaggerated groan as he sunk into the cushions. You smiled but kept your focus on the screen. Heeseung clicked on the latest episode of the new season of The Walking dead he’d been binge-watching, fully knowing he should probably be writing his essay on whatever topic his professor had picked out instead. But the idea of opening his laptop right now made him feel even more exhausted.

As the show played, Heeseung made occasional comments under his breath, reacting to the twists and turns of the plot. You were typing away, seemingly ignoring him, until he let out a surprised “No way he died!”

You glanced up, narrowing your eyes. “Heeseung, don’t spoil anything! I’m not caught up yet.”

He looked at you with mock innocence. “I didn’t spoil anything! I just… reacted.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” you muttered, trying to focus on your work. But Heeseung did not want to keep quiet. He quite enjoyed your attention on him so he occasionally gasped and muttered exclamations, making you groan in exasperation. “Heeseung, seriously! Shut up! If you spoil anything for me, I’m never letting you nap in here before training.”

Heeseung laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! No spoilers, I promise.”

You fell into a comfortable silence again, with Heeseung watching his show and you finishing your work. He was trying to pay attention, but his eyes kept gazing over and he was about to fall asleep. It wouldn't be the first time that he actually took advantage of the sofa to take a nap. Last week he had a free period before his training session and decided to go to the rink to train on his own a bit. Instead of training you lured him into your office with the offer of cupcakes you baked and after talking for a bit you continued working on an essay and he took the chance to take a quick nap.

“You good?” you asked, saving your work and closing your laptop.

Heeseung sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah… I mean, I guess. I’m just tired. Like, really tired.”

You looked at him sympathetically. “Long day?” “Yeah, and school’s just... killing me right now. I’ve got so much work to do, and I’m so behind. But I can’t seem to get motivated to do anything. I was supposed to write an essay tonight, but I’ve been lying here watching Netflix instead.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I get that. Sometimes it feels like there’s just too much going on all at once.”

Heeseung rubbed his face with both hands, feeling the weight of everything he hadn’t done start to press down on him again. “It’s just... I don’t know. Between hockey and school, and trying to keep up with everything else, it’s exhausting. And I know I should be doing more, but sometimes I just want to do nothing.”

You tilted your head, giving him a soft smile. “You’ve been doing a lot, though. You don’t have to be perfect all the time, Heeseung. It’s okay to take a break.”

He gave you a grateful smile but didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, after a pause, he spoke again, his voice quieter this time. “I just… don’t want to let anyone down, you know? The team, my professors, the coach, everyone expects me to be perfect.”

“Well, for what it’s worth,” you said gently maneuvering your wheelchair to the sofa, “I don't think you’re letting anyone down. You’re doing your best, and that’s more than enough.”

Heeseung let out a long breath, nodding slightly as he made space for you to sit down next to him. “Thanks,” he muttered.

“It's been a rough day for you too? If you are sitting in the wheelchair?” Heeseung asked, steering the conversation away from himself for a moment.

You hesitated for a moment before shrugging. “I’m just tired. Physio’s been rough lately, and I guess it’s catching up to me. My dad’s been extra… you know, ‘Dad’ about it all.”

Heeseung hummed, understanding what you meant. The coach could be intense. You smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. You were quiet for a moment before speaking again, your tone a little more subdued. “It’s been rough. I try not to complain too much, but… today’s just one of those days.”

He nodded, feeling a small pang in his chest. He wanted to ask more, to understand what exactly you were going through, but he didn’t want to pry too much. Instead, he carefully asked a question that had been lingering in his mind since Soobin had mentioned it in passing. “I know this might be a bit personal, but... Soobin told me you used to play before the accident.” he said carefully, gauging your reaction. “I mean, with your family, it makes sense, but… I don’t know. It must’ve been hard, having to stop.”

Your eyes flicked toward him, and for a moment, Heeseung wondered if he’d crossed a line. But then, to his surprise, you nodded. “Yeah, it was,” you said quietly, your voice a little strained. “I did. I was on the ice all the time. It was my life, honestly. And then… well, then the accident happened.” You paused, seeming to gather your thoughts. Heeseung stayed silent, letting you continue at your own pace. “It was a car accident. We were hit by a drunk driver,” you said, your voice tightening slightly, as you pull your uninjured leg towards your chest. “I-most of my left leg was jammed up and stuck in the wreck. And that was it. No more ice hockey. No more running around. Everything changed after that.”

“I’m so sorry,” Heeseung said softly, not really knowing what else to say. His heart clenched at your words. He could only imagine how hard it must’ve been for you, growing up in a family so deeply rooted in hockey, only to have that taken away after the accident. He’d seen firsthand how strict and overprotective your dad could be.

You gave him a small, sad smile. “It’s okay. I’ve had a lot of time to come to terms with it. Doesn’t mean it’s easy, though. I mean I was pretty lucky.”

Heeseung nodded, wanting to say something that would make it better, but knowing there were no magic words that could fix something like this.

You shrugged: "It’s tough sometimes, but I’m finding new things to love. Like, I never thought I’d enjoy editing TikToks and running the team’s social media, but it’s been fun.”

Heeseung smiled back at you, “Well, for what it’s worth, we’re all really glad you’re here,” he said sincerely. He was glad you were there but he wanted to kick himself for saying something as cringe as that.

You blinked, a small smile playing on your lips. “Thanks, Heeseung.”

The two of you sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation hanging between you, but it was a comfortable silence—one that came from understanding, from knowing they didn’t have to say everything all at once.

Finally, Heeseung broke the quiet. “Alright, I’m gonna shut up and stop spoiling.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Thanks. But seriously, don’t you dare spoil anything. I’ll never forgive you.”

Heeseung grinned, leaning back on the sofa, feeling a little lighter. “Deal."

"Coffee? Or hot chocolate?”

Heeseung looked up from his textbook, startled as you stood in front of him, holding out two cups. His brows furrowed, clearly confused. “I didn’t ask for—”

“I know,” you cut him off quickly, setting the cups down beside him. “But you looked like you needed it.”

He blinked at you, processing for a moment. “Thanks,” Heeseung finally said, the corners of his mouth twitching into a small, relieved smile. “But… why?”

You let out a breathy laugh, feeling a little more at ease now that he wasn’t brushing you off. “Last night,” you said, shifting on your feet, “I figured I owed you something after you waited for me and drove me home even tho you were dead tired.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, taking the coffee cup from the table, but his expression softened. “You didn’t have to do that. I wasn’t even that bothered.”

“I know,” you mumbled, “but it felt like I should do something. To, you know, thank you.”

He took a sip, then paused, a playful look flashing across his face. “Coffee’s fine.” He took a sip.” What would you have done if I’d taken the hot chocolate?” He gave you a knowing smile. “I know you don’t drink coffee.”

Your stomach dropped for a moment, and you tried not to look as flustered as you felt. How did he even know that? “Wait—how did you...?”

Heeseung’s smile widened, leaning back in his chair like he’d just won something. “You didn’t think I’d notice? You tend to bring tea or hot chocolate to the office. No matter how late.”

Your heart skipped a beat at that, and you looked away, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. You hadn’t realized he’d paid that much attention. “I—well, I would’ve managed,” you replied, shrugging a little too nonchalantly. “But I’m glad you took the coffee because, yeah, I don’t like it.”

Heeseung chuckled, his gaze lingering on you a little longer than usual. “What, you were really going to choke it down just to make me feel better?”

You gave him a half-hearted glare. “I was trying to be nice, okay?”

His laughter softened, his expression turning more gentle. “Sure, the brave Y/N drinking coffee just for me.”

“Hey!”, you hit him softly and tried to ignore how warm your cheeks felt. You were praying that your foundation did its job properly today.

Heeseung grinned, and the atmosphere between you shifted slightly, the playful teasing replaced with something more sincere. “Well, thanks for the coffee,” he said, his voice softer now.

You glanced at Heeseung’s open book, his pages cluttered with scribbled notes and highlighted passages. “You’ve been here a while, huh?” you asked, leaning forward to peek at his notes, feeling guilty for distracting him.

Heeseung sighed dramatically, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, midterms are killing me. I’ve been staring at this stuff for hours, but I swear, none of it’s sticking.”

You tilted your head, sympathizing. “I feel that. Econ made me want to throw my laptop out of my window yesterday and i had to resign to finish a episode of TWD. Are you done with the season?”

At that, Heeseung’s face brightened. “Oh, I finished the last episode last night. I swear i didn’t think—”

“If you spoil it, I will fight you,” you interrupted, narrowing your eyes at him.

Heeseung burst into laughter, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, no spoilers! But seriously, you need to catch up soon. I want to know your reaction.”

You bit your lip, debating for a moment before offering, “Well... do you want to rewatch the last like 5 episodes? You could see my reactions in real time then?"

His eyes lit up at your suggestion, and you felt a flutter of excitement in your chest. “I’d love that! How about we do it tonight? I could whip up some snacks, and we can binge-watch the last few episodes.”

You hesitated, suddenly aware of how casual he was making it sound. “Uh, yeah, but only if we actually study before we watch. I have a few things I want to get done today.”

“Absolutely,” he agreed, nodding seriously, though a smile tugged at his lips.

The idea of going over to his place made your heart race a little faster. “Alright. Then I’ll see you later,” you said, glancing over at him once more, trying to ignore the warmth rising in your cheeks.

What was he thinking? Heeseung couldn’t believe himself. He had invited you over and casually mentioned he could whip up some snacks?

After his last class of the day, he raced into his dorm, the realization hitting him like two hours too late. Jake and Jay were sprawled across the dinner table with their books and laptops, completely oblivious to the chaos about to unfold. Heeseung nearly slammed the entrance door against the wall as he burst in. “Guys, I might have messed up!”

Jake blinked a few times, confusion etched across his face. “What happened?”

“I invited Y/N over to watch The Walking Dead,” he said, sliding off his coat. “And I told her I’d whip up some snacks. But our dorm is a disaster, and my room is even worse! She can’t come over!” Panic surged through him.

Jay stifled a laugh, clearly enjoying the drama. “So you want us to speed clean so you can impress the coach’s daughter?”

“Yes!” Heeseung exclaimed, already kneeling down to pick up the shoes littering the entrance. “Please, help a guy out. I can’t let her see this place!”

“Sure,” Jake said with a chuckle, standing up and grabbing the takeout boxes scattered around him. “Our dorm needs a cleaning session anyway. And honestly, I’m so done with thermodynamics right now. If I see another heat transfer mode, I might bang my head into a wall hard enough to skip out the next semester. I am suffering.”

Jay joined in, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I’ll take the living room and vacuum. Hyung, just focus on your room. I think we have chips in the pantry, so just use that as a snack.”

“Jay, you’re a genius. Thank you,” Heeseung said, practically sprinting to his room.

Once inside, he was greeted by the mess that was his room: clothes sprawled across the floor, bed, and desk, a collection of empty water bottles. On top of that, his hockey gear is spread all haphazardly around the room - gloves, sticks, and bags. He immediately began tackling the mess, grabbing clothes, checking which ones were clean which needed to be folded and put away. He picked up a discarded hockey glove and tossed it into a corner before realizing he’d have to deal with the smell somehow.

By the time he emerged from his room, he felt a sense of accomplishment. Sure, it wasn’t perfect, but it was a hell of a lot better than what it had been. He glanced over at Jay, who was in the living room, vacuuming with an exaggerated flourish. Just that second the shrill noise of their doorbell pierced through the air. 

You stood in front of Heeseung’s dorm building, your gaze drifting up toward the tall, sleek structure. The place looked expensive—not surprising, given what you knew about his background. Heeseung’s parents were wealthy, and while you came from a comfortable home as well, this dorm definitely seemed a cut above.

As you approached the entrance, you felt a slight flutter of nerves you hadn’t expected. Pressing the elevator button for the twelfth floor, you shifted your weight onto your good leg, adjusting your crutches slightly. You didn’t really need your crutches anymore. Enough time has passed since your surgery for you to be able to walk only on your cast but you decided that going about your day and actually walking quite a bit was too much of a risk and took them with you anyway.

The ride up seemed to stretch on, giving you too much time to think. Over the past few weeks, you had grown used to Heeseung hanging out in your office, almost like it was his second home. Some days, he was already there when you finished your last class, quietly studying or taking notes. His presence had become a strange comfort, one that didn’t bother you. If anything, it helped you stay focused. But this—being invited into his space—felt like a new step, one that made your heart race a little. When you reached his door, you hesitated for a second, taking a deep breath. You could hear muffled voices and the sound of something being moved around inside. Whatever nervousness you felt, you quickly pushed it aside before ringing the doorbell.

The door swung open almost immediately, and there stood Heeseung, his warm, easy smile greeting you. Behind him, you could see Jake lounging in the kitchen and Jay standing nearby, holding a vacuum cleaner.

“Hi, Y/N!” Heeseung said, stepping aside to let you in, the others offering casual waves.

“Hey,” you replied, carefully stepping inside with your crutches. The moment you entered, your eyes quickly took in the space—it was neat. Really neat. Surprisingly neat for a guy’s dorm.

Heeseung must have noticed the slight lift of your eyebrows because he scratched the back of his neck, chuckling softly. “Yeah, uh… we did a little tidying up.”

“A little?” you echoed, amused as you glanced around again. “I’m impressed. I didn’t think your dorm would be this... organized.”

Before Heeseung could respond, Jake snorted from across the room, biting into a chip. “Yeah, sure. We always live this clean,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, earning a pointed side-eye from Heeseung.

You laughed, the sound easing the last bit of tension in the room. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like a dig. It’s just—well, I’ve seen my brother’s room?”

“You’re giving us too much credit,” Jay chimed in, leaning the vacuum against the wall.

Once you were in his room, you sat on the edge of the bed, noticing how tidy even his space was. The bed was made, his hockey gear wasn’t strewn everywhere like Sobbing usually is, and the usual hockey player smell was faint, replaced with something cleaner. You caught a subtle hint of Heeseung’s familiar cologne, woody but fresh.

You moved to sit on the bed but hesitated, leaning on your good leg. “Uh, mind if I sit? I don’t want to mess up your bed with my outside clothes.”

Heeseung waved it off with a casual shrug. “I don’t care about that. But if you’re worried about it, I can give you a pair of my joggers?”

You blinked, not really expecting that offer. “Oh... uh, are you sure?”

“Yeah, no big deal,” he said, already moving to his closet. He pulled out a pair of gray joggers and handed them to you with a smile. “Here, these should be comfy.”

You threw the joggers over your shoulder, feeling a bit strange but also kind of grateful. “Thanks. I’ll be right back.”

After changing in the bathroom, you returned, feeling a little more at ease wearing his clothes, knowing you wouldn't mess his bed up with your outside clothing. You did care about that. The joggers hung low on your hips, the waistband slightly too big, but they were warm and comfortable. When you sat down on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, Heeseung flopped down next to you, pulling out his iPad. “Alright, let’s get some studying done before we watch anything, or I’ll never hear the end of it.” You laughed, pulling out your own notes, though your focus was already wandering. The smell of his freshly laundered sheets, mixed with his subtle cologne and aftershave, was distracting you almost as much as his presence next to you.

For the next hour, you both settled into study mode. Heeseung was focused on his music theory notes, occasionally mumbling something about chord progressions or sound mixing, while you tried—really tried—to get through corporate governance. But after what felt like an eternity, your brain was officially fried. With a frustrated sigh, you tossed your notebook aside. “This is impossible. I need help with this. Do you think Jay’s busy?”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “He’s probably still studying in the living room.”

You huffed and slid off the bed and made your way into the living room, where Jay was still hunched over his books. Jake had his headphones on, seemingly lost in his own world of equations.

“Hey, Jay, can you help me with something? Corporate governance is killing me,” you asked, sliding into the seat beside him.

Jay looked up, grinning. “Sure thing. What part are you stuck on?”

What was supposed to be a quick five-minute explanation stretched into ten, then fifteen. You had the gift to ask the right question to make everyone insecure in their explanations and answers and now Jay and you were confused. Great.

Eventually, you noticed Heeseung joining you. “You guys still going at it?” he asked, pulling up a chair next to you. “We’re just about done,” Jay said, pushing his notes aside.

Heeseung laughed. He settled in, flipping through his book, and soon enough, all four of you were studying together at the dinner table. It was surprisingly productive.

After a while, though, you leaned back in your chair, stretching your arms. “Okay, I’m officially done. My brain can’t take any more.”

Heeseung set his book aside, looking just as exhausted. “Same here. Ready for some TWD?”

You nodded eagerly, feeling that familiar excitement bubble up again. As much as you tried to play it cool, you’d been looking forward to this part all day. Annoying Lia during your shared class and Beomguy during your break about how excited you were.

Back in his room, you climbed onto the bed again, this time letting yourself sink fully into the pillows and pulling the blanket over yourself. As you did, you caught that same scent of Heeseung’s cologne again. The coolness of the evening was creeping in, and without thinking, you shifted closer to Heeseung, stealing a little more of the blanket. He glanced at you with a small smile but didn’t say anything, his focus returning to the screen.

Heeseung shifted slightly on the bed, stretching his legs as the second episode ended. He turned his head to ask you if you wanted to start another one, but when he glanced over, his breath hitched.

You were fast asleep.

For a moment, Heeseung just stared, not quite sure what to do. You had curled up against the pillows, still wrapped in his blanket, one arm tucked under your head. His heart skipped a beat.

You looked so peaceful. He didn’t want to move or make any noise that might wake you. Heeseung swallowed nervously and tugged at his own shirt collar, feeling a little too aware of everything suddenly—his breathing, the quiet hum of the room, the weight of the blanket. What was he supposed to do? Wake you up? Ask if you wanted to go back home? In a flash of pure panic, he grabbed his phone and opened up a text to Soobin.

Heeseung Hey man, Y/N fell asleep at my place. Is it cool if she stays over? I don’t want to wake her up.

Heeseung bit his lip, waiting for a reply, his eyes darting between the screen and your sleeping form. You looked so calm, your breathing steady, you looked so soft. It made his chest tighten in a way he didn’t quite understand. He wasn’t used to this, if he had girls over it wasn’t for watching TV Shows, nor did they just fall asleep. 

A soft buzz broke his thoughts as Soobin replied.

Soobin Hyung (New) She’s an adult, dude. I’ll let my parents know she’s sleeping over, though. Just tell her she owes me for covering for her.

Heeseung exhaled a sigh of relief, slumping back against the headboard. At least he didn’t have to deal with the wrath of an angry captain tonight. He stared at your peaceful face again, and a small smile tugged at his lips. You really were out cold. Carefully, he shifted closer, trying to tuck the blanket more securely around you without disturbing your sleep. He sent a quick thank you text to Soobin.

Heeseung tried to get comfortable, though he couldn’t ignore the fact that his heart was beating a little faster than usual. He was overthinking every tiny movement, wondering if shifting just a little might accidentally wake you up. Glancing over at you, the rise and fall of your chest was slow and steady, and he felt that strange, unfamiliar warmth in his chest again. He had no idea what to do with it. You were just there, peacefully sleeping, wrapped in his blanket, wearing his joggers, and somehow that made the moment feel more significant than it should. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. You were off limits. He shifted a little closer to the edge of the bed, carefully trying to give you more space without disturbing you. His phone buzzed on the nightstand. He reached for it, worried that it might be your brother again, but when he checked, it was just a message from Jake into their groupchat.

Puckin' Legends and Sunghoon  Jakey Jakey So? How’s the TV date going hyung Jeongsongie You owe us for cleaning the dorm in record speed. I dont think i ever vacuumed so quickly? Heeseung She fell asleep??  She is so cute tho But thanks for the help. Dorm looks way better now. And don’t call it a TV date?? We were literally studying before this.

He didn’t really mind the teasing—not anymore. At first, when they’d made comments about him spending a bit too much time with the coaches daughter, he’d felt awkward. But now, with you lying beside him, snuggled up under his blanket, he couldn’t bring himself to care. His phone buzzed again.

Hoon I still cannot believe you try to bag your coaches daughter. Jakey Jakey I don’t think the coach can believe it either Jeongsongie I cant believe how gone he is for her??? Did anyone read the she is so cute????

Heeseung rolled his eyes but smiled anyway, setting his phone down without replying. He wasn’t about to engage in that conversation right now. The soft light from the TV illuminated your face just enough for him to see. The way you’d tucked your hand under your cheek, your hair falling slightly over your face—it was… cute. His mind wandered back to earlier, to the way you’d laughed at his teasing or the look of concentration on your face while studying. You had a way of being fully in the moment, and it made him want to stay in those moments with you for as long as possible.

Heeseung closed his eyes, knowing that sleep wasn’t going to come easy, not when his brain was buzzing with thoughts of you. He took one more look at you, tucked under his blanket, your crutches leaning against the wall in the corner of his room. 

You stirred awake, the room dark except for the dim glow of the TV screen that had long since gone idle, casting soft shadows around you. It took a second to remember where you were: Heeseung’s room. His bed. The blanket wrapped around you wasn’t yours. For a split second, panic rose—shit. You fell asleep in Heeseung’s bed? What time was it? How long had you been out? You turned slightly, glancing at Heeseung. He was still sitting next to you, back against the headboard, his eyes closed. You wondered if he had fallen asleep too. Rubbing your face in exhaustion, you felt a rush of embarrassment. This was the first time you were ever over at his place, and you had fallen asleep? Well done, Y/N. Truly.

Glancing at his dimly glowing alarm clock, you realized it was way past midnight. You tried shifting slightly, hoping to find a more comfortable position, but your leg wasn’t cooperating. Every attempt to adjust it left you either more uncomfortable or closer to waking Heeseung. Eventually, you gave in, trying to reposition your injured leg one last time. However, the slight rustling of the blanket stirred Heeseung beside you, his eyes fluttering open. For a moment, he looked confused, as if he’d forgotten where he was too.

“Y/N?” His voice was low and heavy with sleep, but still warm. He blinked a few times, trying to focus on you. “You okay?”

You bit your lip, feeling a little guilty for waking him. “Yeah, sorry. My leg just… won’t get comfortable.”

He shifted beside you, rubbing his eyes. His hair was messier now, and his face carried the remnants of sleep. “Want me to help? Or… do you need a pillow or something?”

You shook your head, adjusting the blanket around you. “No, it’s fine.”

His expression softened, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Now I know why you need half an eternity to finish the season. You knocked out pretty hard after just two episodes,” he said softly, his voice slightly hoarse from sleep.

You laughed quietly, feeling a little embarrassed. “Yeah, I guess I did. Sorry about that.”

“No, don’t apologize,” he said quickly, his voice warm. “I didn’t want to wake you. You seemed really comfortable.” Comfortable. You were. Too comfortable, honestly. You glanced down at the blanket wrapped tightly around you, feeling a strange warmth in your chest.

“Did I miss much?” you asked, your voice still quiet.

“Nah, just the end of the episode,” Heeseung replied, glancing at the TV. “You didn’t miss anything important. I was going to ask if you wanted to watch another one, but, uh…”

“But I was out cold,” you finished for him, chuckling.

“Exactly.”

There was a pause, a soft, almost peaceful silence hanging between you. You didn’t want to move. You didn’t want to leave the comfort of his bed, his blanket, or this moment. You could feel his presence next to you, his arm brushing yours slightly as you both sat there. “So…” you began, hesitating for a moment. “I should probably get going.”

Heeseung didn’t say anything right away. He shifted slightly, and you thought you caught a flicker of something in his expression, but it was gone too quickly to tell.

“You don’t have to,” he said, his voice careful. “I mean, if you’re comfortable here, it’s late… Also, Soobin’s got you covered. He said your parents will survive you crashing here for the night.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “You texted Soobin?”

Heeseung’s smile was sheepish. “I didn’t want your parents to freak out when you didn’t show up. So yeah, I let him know. He said you’re an adult but added that he’d let them know you’re safe.”

You sighed, a mix of gratitude and amusement rising in your chest. “Thanks, Heeseung. Really.”

He shrugged, his easy smile still in place. “Anytime. I just figured I should let someone know.”

You began to move out of your blanket burrito,”I’ll migrate to the sofa then! I don’t want to hog your bed. You have training tomorrow and you should get some proper sleep before then!”

His gaze shifted to you, a little more serious now. “Hell no. If you’re gonna stay, you are going to sleep here. If you feel uncomfortable I can go to the sofa.”

You blinked at him, surprised by his casual offer. “I’m not kicking you out of your own bed,” you protested, even as part of you was tempted.

Heeseung tilted his head, his eyes soft and teasing. “Then I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. Just scoot over, and I’ll lie down too. We can both be comfortable.”

A beat of silence passed as you considered it, but then you nodded, scooting over to give him room. Your heart pounded just a little harder as you adjusted yourself, settling more comfortably against the pillows. Heeseung shifted too, lying down on his side, facing you. The bed suddenly felt smaller than it had moments ago, the space between you somehow feeling both large and almost nonexistent.

“Better?” he asked, his voice soft as he looked at you.

You nodded. “Yeah. Much better.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything. You found yourself more aware of everything—the blanket, the smell of Heeseung’s cologne lingering in the air, and the soft, even rhythm of his breathing.

“Good,” Heeseung murmured, his eyes closing again.“Just… wake me up if you need anything, okay?”

You smiled softly, watching as his breathing slowed, his expression relaxed as sleep pulled him back under. It was strange, this feeling of being so comfortable, of having someone care enough to make sure you were okay. You could not believe what was happening right now but you were also too tired to think about it right now. So you just closed your eyes again, the weight of the day and the warmth of the moment making it easier to drift off. And as sleep began to claim you once more, you felt a quiet contentment settle in your chest. 

The sun was barely beginning to rise as Heeseung wiped the sweat off his brow, the air in the rink still heavy with the lingering chill of the early morning. Their training session had just wrapped up, and the team was scattered around the locker room, chatting and peeling off their gear. Heeseung sat on a bench, untying his skates when he felt someone approach.

“Soobin.” Heeseung looked up, surprised to see your older brother standing in front of him with a serious expression.

“We need to talk,” Soobin said, his tone calm but firm. Heeseung immediately sensed that something was up and he straightened up, suddenly more alert. Soobin didn’t usually pull him aside like this, and the shift in his demeanor was hard to miss. Heeseung’s heart rate quickened, but he kept his face neutral, unsure of where this conversation was going. He stood, following Soobin outside to a quieter part of the rink, away from the rest of the team.

Once they were alone, Soobin crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing slightly as he met Heeseung’s gaze. “You're gonna tell me what’s going on between you and Y/N?” Soobin asked, voice stern but not hostile.

The question hit Heeseung like a puck to the chest (pun intended), and for a moment, he didn’t know what to say. Scratch that he knew what he wanted to say but saying it out loud made it too real.

He thought about the evenings spent in your office, long after practice had ended, when the rink was quiet, and it was just the two of you. Most nights, it started with something simple—you finishing up work while he lingered, not really wanting to go back to the dorm. You would end up on the sofa in your office, talking about everything and nothing at the same time.

He could picture how you would sit, your back nestled into the corner of the sofa, one knee pulled up to your chest while the other, still recovering, rested comfortably across his lap. You were so casual about it, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to drape your leg over him like that. And somehow, it was. You would chat for hours sometimes, and he found himself looking forward to those nights more than he ever admitted. Seeing the way your eyes lit up when you got excited about something, or the way your lips quirked into a small smile when you said something you thought was clever. There was a comfort between the two of you that made everything else fade into the background.

On days where your physiotherapist, whom you claim to love with all of your heart, went a bit harder on you leaving you exhausted and in pain he would be trying his best to cheer you up a bit. You never complained but he could tell. Your leg would stiffen up, and you would move with a slight limp, your jaw tight as you tried to brush it off like it was nothing. He remembered the first time he noticed it—how you had tried to hide the discomfort, laughing off his concern with some joke about how you have “had worse.” Without thinking, he had reached out and placed his hand on your leg, gently massaging the tense muscles. You hadn’t said anything at first, but you didn’t pull away either. Instead, you had leaned back into the cushions, closing your eyes for a brief moment, as if allowing yourself to relax in his presence.

That morning, when he got up for training, you had still been there, your hair spilling over the pillow in soft waves. He had whispered for you to stay, to sleep in and leave whenever you wanted, and a small part of him had hoped that when he returned, you’d still be in his bed.

Soobin waited, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Heeseung, don’t make me ask twice.”

But what was he supposed to say to Soobin? You were his sister. He couldn’t risk saying the wrong thing, especially not when he was still trying to figure it all out himself.

“Nothing’s going on,” Heeseung replied, though even as he said it, he knew it sounded weak. “I mean, we’re friends.”

Soobin’s jaw clenched, clearly unsatisfied. "Friends, huh? Because from where I’m standing, it seems like there’s more to it than just being friends. And don’t give me that ‘nothing’s going on’ line. I’m not stupid, Heeseung."

Heeseung swallowed. Soobin wasn’t the kind of guy to be brushed off easily. He shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his damp hair. “I…” He started, his voice a little shaky, but he forced himself to meet Soobin’s eyes. “I think I like her. A lot, actually.”

Soobin’s eyes narrowed, and Heeseung felt his heart rate spiking. “You think? Or you know?”

“I know,” Heeseung admitted, his voice more certain now. “I like her more than just a friend, Soobin. I’ve liked her for a while. It’s not just…” He paused, searching for the right words, trying to explain how he felt about you. “It’s not just some fling or whatever. It’s… more. Or at least for me it is.”

There. He’d said it. It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about it before—how his feelings for you had slowly shifted, deepening with each shared moment, every lingering glance, every time he found himself thinking about you when he wasn’t supposed to. But saying it out loud and not just gushing to his friends about you made it real in a way that he wasn’t fully prepared for.

Soobin stayed silent for a long moment, his gaze hard but thoughtful. Heeseung’s stomach twisted. But when Soobin spoke again, his voice was calmer, though still edged with that protective tone.

“Look, I get it,” Soobin said slowly, his gaze locked on Heeseung’s. “Y/N… she’s been through a lot. You know that. The last thing she needs is someone messing with her heart. So if you’re not serious about her, if you’re just playing around or you’re not sure what you want, you need to back off. Because if you hurt her, Heeseung… I swear—”

“I’m not going to hurt her,” Heeseung interrupted, his voice firm, surprising even himself with the certainty of his own words. “I would never do that, Soobin.”, his chest tightening at the thought of hurting you. “I wouldn’t. I won’t. I just… I don’t want to complicate things for her. But I can’t help how I feel.”

Soobin stared at him for a long moment, as if weighing the truth of his words. Finally, he let out a small sigh, the tension easing slightly from his shoulders. “I believe you,” he said, though there was still a note of caution in his tone. “But I’m warning you—if you break her heart, you’ll answer to me.”

Heeseung nodded, knowing that Soobin meant every word. And honestly, he couldn’t blame him. If the roles were reversed, if he were in Soobin’s shoes, he would’ve done the same thing.

As Soobin walked back toward the locker room, Heeseung let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. 

With a sigh, Heeseung headed back inside, his skates dangling loosely from his fingers. As he stepped into the locker room, his mind wandered back to his dorm. He wondered if you were still there, still curled up in his bed like you had been when he left. You were probably already gone, but a small part of him hoped you were still there.

“A little bird told me you didn’t return home last night,” Beomgyu teased as he plopped down into the empty seat next to you in the library, dropping his hockey gear with a soft thud. He had no trouble finding you among the maze of bookshelves and antique paintings - you were in your usual spot, struggling through an international law essay. You looked up and sighed, already bracing yourself for his relentless teasing.

“I didn’t,” you admitted, rolling your eyes. “Did that little bird also tell you I fell asleep after studying and watching, like, one and a half episodes of The Walking Dead? Or did he conveniently forget to mention that part?” You knew exactly who the “little bird” was—your brother.

“He did mention that, actually,” Beomgyu smirked, shaking his damp hair free from his hat. “But I have to say, I’m a little disappointed.” He leaned in closer, lowering his voice dramatically. “You had the perfect opportunity to get something going with,” he paused for effect, “a hot guy that Yeonjun hyung, Soobin hyung, and I fully approve of—and you did nothing? And don’t give me the ‘I’m not interested in Heeseung’ excuse. I know all about your little evening sessions in your office.”

Your face heated up at the mention of Heeseung, but you quickly dismissed it. “We’re just friends, Gyu. Friends,” you emphasized. “When he comes to my office, we’re actually studying. It’s peaceful there, no one interrupts us.” You crossed your arms, trying to hide the sudden, unwelcome flutter in your chest.

“Sure, sure,” Beomgyu grinned, clearly not buying it. “But you slept over. That’s new.”

You sighed, glancing back at your laptop. “I slept over because I fell asleep. He had to get up early for practice, so he let me sleep in. When I woke up, he was already gone. It was no big deal.” You said it like you were reminding yourself more than Beomgyu—because it wasn’t a big deal, right? You were just comfortable around Heeseung. That’s all.

“Uh-huh. Sure, it wasn’t a big deal,” Beomgyu leaned back, clearly enjoying himself. “Jake and Jay weren’t exactly quiet about it during practice this morning. And now the entire team, including your dad, knows about your ‘sleepover.’ Your dad wasn’t thrilled, by the way. Might want to prepare for an awkward conversation later.”

You groaned, letting your head fall onto the old wooden desk with a soft thud. “Of course he’d freak out. How is he so worried about me being lonely but still loses his shit whenever I’m near a guy?” You turned your head to the side, pouting.

Beomgyu patted your head sympathetically. “Your dad’s a scary guy. I can’t help you there. But seriously, are you sure you’re not into Heeseung?”

You straightened up, an annoyed huff escaping your lips. “I’m not interested in Heeseung like that,” you insisted, though your mind betrayed you with memories of how you’d felt waking up in his bed this morning. The way the sheets still held his warmth, how his cologne lingered faintly in the air... But no. It wasn’t like that. You had just fallen asleep while watching TV, that’s all. It wasn’t a date. Just two friends watching a show, nothing more.

Beomgyu wasn’t buying it. “I’m just saying, you spend a lot of time with him. Almost every other night, actually. And don’t even get me started on the way he naps in your office all the time. That sofa is supposed to be my personal napping spot.”

“I mean, first come, first serve,” you shot back, forcing a lighthearted tone. “Yeonjun’s slept on that couch plenty of times too.”

“Yeah, but I don’t see you staying over at Yeonjun’s place,” Beomgyu countered with a sly grin. “Face it, you’re into Heeseung.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but inside, his words echoed. You and Heeseung had gotten close, yes. Maybe closer than you’d expected. But that didn’t mean anything, right? You were just... comfortable around him. There was nothing more to it.

“Gyu, I’m really not interested in dating right now,” you said, turning back to your laptop in an attempt to end the conversation. “I just want to get this essay done. Jay and Lia asked me to proofread theirs, and I won’t have time if I don’t finish today.”

Beomgyu rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair dramatically. “Sure, keep telling yourself that. But I’m keeping an eye on you two.”

“Oh no, I’m so scared,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Now, can I please focus on this essay?”

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. But don’t think this conversation is over. I’m just getting started.” You managed to ignore Beomgyu’s incessant teasing for a while, but the fluttering thoughts about Heeseung kept creeping back in, much to your annoyance. It was like a small nagging voice in the back of your mind, whispering things you didn’t want to hear. Things like how nice it was that he let you stay in his bed, how considerate it was of him to slip out quietly in the morning so you could sleep in, and how warm his side of the bed had felt when you rolled over into it. Stop it, you mentally scolded yourself.

It didn’t mean anything.

Right?

Nope. No. Stop. You shook your head slightly, forcing yourself to focus. You had way too much going on to be distracted by feelings—or whatever this was. The coming weeks were packed with deadlines, presentations, and a social media campaign for the team that was eating up all your free time. Not to mention the upcoming games, which meant more PR work for you. You didn’t have time to analyze whatever was happening between you and Heeseung. Not that there was anything to analyze.

The final whistle echoed through the arena, and you were still trying to process what had just happened. Heeseung had scored the winning goal - on his birthday, no less. The crowd roared, players rushed onto the ice, and you could barely keep your camera steady as you captured the celebrations for the team’s social media. But your thoughts were still stuck on the way Heeseung had glanced up into the stands after scoring. Pointing at you. Dedicating the goal to technically the teams fans. He’d joked with you before the game that it would be perfect PR if the “birthday boy” scored the winning goal. 

You stood in front of the changing rooms, waiting for the boys to finish up after the game. The arena was still buzzing from the victory—Heeseung’s last-second, game-winning goal had the whole place on fire. You could hear the muffled celebrations from behind the door, the players’ laughter and shouts of excitement as they reveled in their win.

You leaned against the wall, absentmindedly scrolling through your phone as you waited for them to emerge. But before you could even think about your next move, the door to the changing room swung open, and Beomgyu poked his head out.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, his grin as mischievous as ever. “Come on, get in here!”

Before you could protest, he gently pushed you into the locker room. The smell of sweat hit you all at once, and the noise of the players’ post-game celebrations was deafening. The boys were in various stages of undress—some half-naked, some wrapped in towels, others already pulling on their post-game clothes. You hesitated at the entrance, suddenly feeling a little out of place.

“Uh, I’m not really supposed to be in here -” you started, but Beomgyu waved you off.

“Nonsense! You’re part of the team too,” he said, nudging you further inside. “Besides, someone’s gotta document Heeseung’s birthday win for the fans, right?”

You smiled at his enthusiasm, but your attention was quickly diverted to Heeseung himself, who was standing by his locker, shirtless, toweling off his hair. Your eyes involuntarily scanned over him, taking in the toned muscles of his chest, the curve of his collarbones, the way the light from the overhead lamps cast soft shadows across his skin. He was talking to one of the other players, a relaxed smile on his face, but you couldn’t help but be distracted by the way his shoulders flexed as he moved, the muscles in his back rippling as he dried off. Fuck. You caught yourself staring and quickly averted your gaze, your face growing warm. Get a grip, you scolded yourself.

“Watch out Y/N. You are about to drool.” Beomgyu teased, suddenly reappearing at your side. His grin was knowing, and you could tell he hadn’t missed the way your eyes had lingered on Heeseung.

“Shut up,” you muttered, elbowing him lightly in the ribs. Beomgyu just chuckled. “Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was still racing. You glanced back at Heeseung, only to find that he was already looking at you. His dark eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away. The noise of the locker room, the boys’ laughter, even Beomgyu’s teasing all became background noise as you held his gaze. There was something in the way he was looking at you, something warm and intense that made your breath catch.

A slow, almost shy smile tugged at the corner of Heeseung’s lips, and you felt your stomach flip again. You suddenly felt like you couldn’t stand still, like you needed to move, do something to break the intensity of the moment. But before you could, Heeseung looked away, returning to his conversation with a teammate, breaking eye contact.

After a while, the players finished up and started getting dressed, and you slipped out of the changing room, glad to have a moment to collect yourself. The victory high carried on as the team headed to a nearby bar to celebrate. You tagged along—PR duties and all. Your original plan was to go back to your and Soobins Hotel room to study a bit but Yeonjun threatened to spoil the end of Prison Break if you wouldn’t tag along. That and the fact that Heeseung had his arms around your shoulder in such an aggravating casual way as soon as he came out of the locker and was pouting when you told him about your study plans was pretty convincing. Heeseung kept finding excuses to be near you even after you left the rink. Every time you looked up, he was there—handing you a drink, making a joke, his arm bushing yours as he leaned in to talk.

You found yourself glancing at him more often, watching the way his lips curved when he laughed, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. But every time you tried to be subtle about it, you’d catch him already looking at you, making your pulse quicken and your cheeks rosy red. He would lower his head slightly, his eyes being hidden behind his hair and smirking at you until you couldn't take it any longer and the intense broke eye contact, blushing like a little school girl. 

You were sitting at a booth with some of the players when Beomgyu sidled up to you, a mischievous grin already in place.

“So… birthday boy scores the winning goal and dedicates it to you? That’s a bit more than a coincidence, don’t you think?” His eyes twinkled with amusement.

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it off. “It was just a joke, Beomgyu. Heeseung was dedicating it to the fans, not me.” You were praying that the noise around you was loud enough for Soobin, Yeonjun and Jay to not hear what the two of you were talking about.

Beomgyu leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Come on, Y/N. We’ve all seen the way he looks at you. It’s not just a joke.”

Your face flushed, warmth creeping up your neck. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re in denial,” he shot back, leaning back in his seat and giving you a smug look. “I’m just saying - maybe it’s time to stop pretending.”

You tried to brush it off, but his words lingered. You have been telling yourself that you were imagining things and that you were a bit delusional when thinking about Heeseung - not talking, hell your friends cannot know about your little crush - but maybe just maybe did Beomgyu have a point.  

Heeseung slid in next to you, and immediately, you felt the heat of his body radiating toward you. He was so close, not closer than usual, but you could smell the faint hint of his cologne—something warm and woodsy that made your head swim a little. You liked it a little too much, and you had to fight the urge to lean in closer, to let yourself get lost in the warmth of his presence. Like you have done on his bed plenty of times in the last weeks during your strictly friendly studying-and-binge-watching-not-dates-dates that sometimes turn into sleepovers. (Yes, you have your own toothbrush at his place and a designated set of PJs. And yes, in hindsight you are a lost causes and Beomgyu has been right about everything but you would never tell him that.)

As you sipped your drink, trying to keep your thoughts in check, Soobin’s gaze was on you, watchful and a little too knowing. You could feel his eyes darting between you and Heeseung. It made you even more self-conscious, and you prayed Heeseung didn’t notice. When Heeseung put one of his hands on your thigh while talking, Soobin looked like he was ready to punch his captain in the face. Yeonjun shot Soobin a look and discreetly elbowed him in the ribs.

“Relax, man,” he muttered under his breath, though you heard it clearly.

You silently thanked Yeonjun for the intervention, but you still couldn’t shake the nervous energy building up inside you. You kept your focus on the conversation, laughing along with the others, but the whole time, all you could think about was the way Heeseung’s leg was pressed against yours under the table, the steady heat of his body next to you, his hand on your thigh and his thumb that started caressing it slightly. The skin under his hand was tingling.

The way back to your hotel felt significantly longer than the way there. You were busy giggling  together with Jake about a dumb joke Jay made while walking rather slowly towards your hotel. Having had one or two drinks while relying on crutches may have not been the best idea.

“I don’t want to go to sleep yet,” you pouted as you squeezed into the elevator with the others, leaning your head against Jay’s shoulder. Heeseung and Jake swayed as they stepped into the cramped space, followed by a few of the other players and their girlfriends.

“I swear I am out as soon as my head hits the pillow”, Jay yawned and patted your head causing you to giggle.

You giggled. “Ohhh,” you teased, fake pouting, “you didn’t get your nap today! Poor Jay must be exhausted.”

“Ha, ha,” Jay replied dryly, grabbing Jake’s arm as the latter swayed dangerously. “Might I remind you that I played a phenomenal game today? That’s exhausting, you know.”

“Sure, Park,” you said with mock seriousness, lips pursed as you nodded.

At your floor, you bid the boys a quick goodnight and shuffled toward your room. Inside, Soobin was standing in the middle of the room clad in nothing but boxer shorts, toothbrush in hand, his mouth full of foam. He turned to you with a confused expression.

“Whaf are you doin’ hewe?” he mumbled around his toothbrush, his words muffled as foam threatened to dribble from the corner of his lips.

“What do you mean?” you asked, flopping onto your bed and ignoring the fact that you were still wearing your outside clothing “We’re sharing this room, remember?”

Soobin rolled his eyes and ducked into the bathroom, his voice muffled as he spit into the sink. “Yeah, but I thought you were going to give Hee his present?”

You blinked, sitting up. “Oh. I was thinking I’d do it tomorrow or maybe next week. Didn’t want to give it to him in front of everyone.”

Soobin emerged from the bathroom, drying his face with a towel, water droplets scattered across his chest and shoulders. “No. Do it today. It’s his birthday. I’m sure he’d appreciate some one-on-one time with you.”

You froze for a second. You weren’t entirely sure how Soobin was thinking about whatever was going on between you and his friend and captain, but you hadn’t expected him to ask about Heesung. Especially after the glare he had sent Heeseung’s way at the bar. “I mean, I already talked to him and said happy birthday…” you muttered, trying to brush it off.

“Y/N.” Soobin said flatly, crossing his arms, “Go downstairs and give him your present and spend some time with him. You have my official blessing. Just be careful.”

“I-You-What?”, you gawked at him,, feeling your face flush.

“Do you really think i am that stupid?”, Soobin asked with a shake of his head, grinning at you, “You look at him the same way you did look at your Taemin poster. All heart eyes. It's almost embarrassing.”

Your jaw dropped as his words sank in, your face now fully flushed. “Soobin, that’s not—”

“Y/N,” he interrupted, tossing the towel onto a chair, “just go.”

Ten minutes later you found yourself standing in front of Heeseungs hotel room door, your heart pounding in your chest as you worked up the nerve to knock. When he opened the door, already clad in his pyjama pants only, his hair messy, his eyes widened in surprise, but a slow smile spread across his face.

“Y/N,” he said, stepping aside to let you in. “What’s up?” You held out the small box in your hands, feeling a bit shy and honestly still a bit embarrassed. You did not give Heeseung herat eyes. Those were for Taemin and Taemin only. “I, uh, got you something. For your birthday.” You were looking into his face and tried to ignore that he was standing there half naked.

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said softly, but he was already reaching for the gift.

“Just open it,” you insisted, your heart beating faster as you watched him unwrap the small package.

“Come in first.”, he ushered you inside and closed the door behind you.

Heeseung’s fingers carefully peeled away the colorful wrapper, his eyes flickering between you and the small box in his hands. He laughed slightly when he saw the packaging and you couldn’t help but smile. He was holding a Sonny Angel dinosaur special edition box you had Soobin buy a few days earlier when he went to the mall. When Heeseung finally opened up the small plastic bag and revealed the figurine inside, his eyes widened in disbelief. It was the red dinosaur.

“No way,” he breathed, turning the figure over in his hands, a wide grin breaking across his face. “Is this the one you wanted?”

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice soft. “I’ve been trying to get it forever, but I guess it was meant for you.” Heeseung’s eyes lit up, but he didn’t say anything for a moment, just staring at the small figure, his smile never fading. Then, his gaze lifted to meet yours. The way he looked at you had your heart racing in a concerning way.

“I offer one red dinosaur for a pink one. This one fits you better anyway. And the pink one would have a cozy home in my locker.” he said, his voice low.

You just laughed softly and nodded, “Sure scary captain. It will be honored to live in your stinky locker.” The soft glow of the bedside lamp cast shadows across his face, highlighting the curve of his jaw, the warmth in his eyes.

Over the past two months, you’d come to realize that yes, Heeseung was undeniably hot and effortlessly charming, but there was something about him with messy hair and a sleepy smile that completely stole your heart.

“Thank you,” he said, breaking the silence, his voice still soft. “Really, this is... it means a lot.”

You smiled, trying to steady your heartbeat. “You’re welcome,” you breathed out.

Heeseung set the figure on the nightstand beside his bed, then turned back to you, his gaze lingering on your face. “I still can’t believe you got me the dinosaur,” he said, his voice a little lighter now, though his eyes were still on you, unreadable but intense.

You chuckled, trying to shake off the nerves fluttering in your stomach. “I had no idea it was in there,” you admitted, glancing at the little red figure on his nightstand. “But I’m glad it was. Birthday luck, I guess.”

Heeseung nodded, his smile softening. “Yeah, I guess so.” He hesitated for a moment, then shifted on the bed, patting the space next to him. “Wanna sit? I’ll put on Prison Break.”

You blinked, feeling your heartbeat pick up again, but you nodded, moving to sit beside him on the bed. The mattress dipped slightly under your weight, and you could feel the warmth of his body close to yours as he grabbed the remote and queued up an episode.

As the show began to play, you tried to focus on the screen, but it was hard with Heeseung so close. His arm brushed against yours as he settled in, and the faint scent of his cologne lingered in the air between you. You tried to keep your breathing steady, but the heat radiating from him was impossible to ignore, your skin tingling wherever you felt his presence.

Your heart thudded in your chest, and as the minutes passed, you felt yourself relax just slightly, letting the comforting hum of the TV and the warmth of Heeseung beside you lull you into a calm state. You tried to focus on the show, but your mind kept drifting back to him. The longer you sat there, the more aware you became of just how close he was, has been the whole evening. His thigh and arm was touching yours, you could feel the subtle rise and fall of his chest with every breath. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, catching the way his features softened in the dim light, his attention half on the screen and half... somewhere else.

Just then, he turned his head, his eyes meeting yours, and the intensity in his gaze made your breath catch. For a moment, neither of you moved.

Your pulse quickened as his gaze flickered down to your lips for just a second, then back up to your eyes again. You swallow, your throat suddenly dry, your heart pounding in your chest. Heeseung’s lips parted as if he was about to say something, but the words never came. Instead, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable. The only sound in the room was the faint murmur of the TV in the background, but even that felt distant now, drowned out by the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. Your breath hitched in your throat as Heeseung shifted again, just slightly, his knee brushing against yours under the blanket to reach up and tuck one of your hair strands that fell out of your braid behind your ear. His hand grazed your cheek slightly and you were sure he could not only see but also feel how warm your face grew under his intense gaze.

The moment stretched on, the air thick with tension, and for a second, you were sure he would lean down and kiss you. But instead of closing the distance, he just smiled—soft, almost teasing—and turned his attention back to the screen.

You blinked, trying to calm yourself, not sure if you were just imagining things or not. You nodded slightly, attempting to focus on the show again, but your thoughts still whirled, your heartbeat loud in your ears. Minutes passed, and slowly, you began to feel tired. The weight of the day—watching the game, the excitement of the win, the celebration afterward—began to settle in. You could feel your eyelids growing heavier by the second. Your head involuntarily tilted toward Heeseung, resting lightly against his shoulder. You froze for a moment, worried you’d overstepped, but he didn’t move or say anything. Instead, he shifted around a bit. His arm was now fully pressed against yours, and the quiet rise and fall of his chest was soothing.

You let out a small breath, letting your body relax, the exhaustion of the day catching up with you. The steady sound of the TV mixed with the warmth of Heeseung beside you, lulling you into a daze. You could hear the faint murmur of the characters on screen, but your focus was completely on the steady rhythm of his breathing, the comforting thrum of his presence beside you.

Just as your eyes fluttered shut, you felt Heeseung shift again, his arm lifting slightly, as if hesitating. Then, gently, his arm rested behind you on the bed, his hand barely brushing your shoulder. And as you drifted further into sleep, your head nestled against his chest, the last thing you felt was Heeseung’s fingers gently brushing the edge of your arm. Yeah. Beomgyu was definitely right. This might be more than just a little crush.

The night had already been one big adrenaline rush. It was the final day of the midterms week and Heeseung and his teammates had just won another game earlier in the evening, so the hockey team came into the swimming team’s Halloween party riding the high of their victory.

Heeseung wasn’t usually the frat party type, but after a win, he didn’t mind letting loose a little. He had already knocked back a couple of drinks with his teammates, and the tipsy warmth was settling in his body. He mingled with the crowd, greeting friends and teammates, celebrating their victory. Jeongin had been bragging about his game-winning goal to anyone who would listen, while Jake and Jay were deep in conversation with some girls dressed as cats. Heeseung had been enjoying himself too, wandering around, chatting here and there.

But then he saw you.

You weren’t hard to spot—how could you be when you were dressed like that? Heeseung blinked, not sure if it was the alcohol, the lighting, or maybe a mix of both, but you looked... really good. No, scratch that, you looked hot. You were wearing a vampire costume that hugged your curves in ways he’d never quite allowed him to notice before. The dark lipstick and fake fangs were surprisingly fitting, and the way the red fabric of your dress shimmered under the lights made it hard not to stare.

The crowd shifted, and suddenly you were right in front of him, your face lighting up in drunken enthusiasm as soon as you recognized him. "Heeseung!" you called out, stumbling a little as you reached him.

He grabbed your elbow instinctively, steadying you. His hand lingered a moment longer than necessary. “Hey, careful.”, he laughed and then realized something, “You’re not using your crutches?”

You grinned, tipsy and a little wobbly. “My physio human,” you slurred, “said I could start walking a few days ago! Isn’t that awesome?”

Heeseung blinked, feeling a little hurt that you hadn’t mentioned this to him. “You didn’t tell me.”

“I didn’t wanna jinx it!” you said, giggling like it was no big deal. “I’ve been walking at home but didn’t wanna try it in public until I was more confident. And look! I’m walking! No crutches, baby!”

Heeseung couldn’t help the way his heart clenched. He should’ve been excited for you, but a part of him was bothered. Why hadn’t you shared this with him? You spent so much time together lately, and yet, this felt like something important he should’ve known. You were practically glowing with excitement, your face flushed from the alcohol, and the way you kept swaying made him nervous.

“Just… be careful, okay?” Heeseung said, his voice softer than he intended, the sting in his chest dissipating when he saw how genuinely happy you were.

You leaned closer your face dangerously close to his, the warmth of your breath brushing his cheek, “I promise! Look, I’m a vampire now! I’m unstoppable!” You twirled, your dress swirling around you, and Heeseung couldn’t help but smile despite the growing tension in his chest. His gaze followed your every movement. The red dress clung to your body in ways that felt unfair, making his thoughts wander into a dangerous direction. But he quickly pushed the thought away.

“Yeah, but even vampires need to be careful,” he replied, teasingly.

Before he could say anything more, a rowdy group called for a beer pong game, and you were swept away in the chaos, your laughter trailing behind you. Heeseung watched as you joined the game, the way you threw your head back in laughter. It was impossible for him to look away, but Jay came up to him holding a bottle of Malibu, saying something about needing alcohol for a confidence boost.

After the two of them finished the bottle and won a game of beerpong against some cheerleaders, Heeseung stepped away from the crowd to get some air, letting the noise fade into the background as he sat down next to Mark Lee onto one of the many chairs in the yard. He needed a moment to breathe and gather his thoughts and was glad that Mark was apparently sleeping. He did check if he was breathing, just in case. He couldn’t stop thinking about how good you looked, how much he wanted to kiss you. The way you layed there, eyes big, lips slightly parted and looking so so soft. It hasn’t left his thoughts all week. Every time you came close to him today, you cupped his face in your hands to speak into his ear, your proximity sending his emotions spiraling. His hand would instinctively settle on your hip or the back of your neck. One wrong move and he knew he’d lose all control, closing the small distance and kissing you.

Eventually, he felt a little more sober and not like he was about to run inside to ruin your lipstick. He returned to the main area. That’s when he caught sight of you again. You were perched on a sofa, laughing animatedly with some guy from the swimming team while sipping on a colorful drink. A weird feeling flared up in him, and as he watched you lean in closer to the guy. Heeseung’s jaw clenched as he watched the guy lean closer as well.

His feet moved before his brain could catch up, and the next thing he knew, he was walking toward you. As he approached, you spotted him, and your entire face lit up. "Hee!" you called out excitedly, as you reached for his hand and practically pulled him down onto the couch next to you. The closeness sent a spark through him, his skin tingling where your skin touched his.

Heeseung shot the guy a look that clearly said back off, and thankfully, he took the hint and left.

“Hee! I haven’t seen you in days!” you whined, your words slightly more slurred from alcohol than it was the last time he talked to you but bright with excitement. “I missed you! You’re not hanging out in the office anymore. What’s that about?” Your body was warm, and you smelled sweet, like vanilla with a hint of alcohol.

Heeseung chuckled, putting his arm on the backrest behind you. “You haven’t been there either! I thought you were avoiding me.”

Since that morning in the hotel room last week, Heeseung hadn’t seen much of you. You’d been busy working during the day and noticeably absent from the rink during your usual hours. He couldn’t shake the nagging worry that he might have overstepped, that something he did had made you uncomfortable. Instead of reaching out, he chose to give you space.

You shook your head dramatically, fake fangs peeking out as you grinned. “Noooo! I was just doing physio. You know, walking practice. But my therapist only had evening sessions!” You wiggled your foot with the cast and looked down at it. “The bathrooms are all messed up tonight,” you said, your cheeks flushed.

“Bathrooms?” Heeseung raised an eyebrow, surprised by the sudden change in topic, reaching out to tuck a stand of hair behind your ear. Slightly caressing your face.

“I tried to pee earlier, but every bathroom was closed when I went the first time,” you explained, giggling at the absurdity of it all, leaning your head into his hand. “Then I tried again, and this very disheveled couple came out. I mean”, a hiccup interrupted you, ”they looked like they just had a wild night.”

Heeseung chuckled, shaking his head. “Sounds like you had quite the adventure.” He was tempted to ask how many drinks you’d had and reached for your cup, his brows knitting together. “Can I have a sip of that?”

“Sure!” you said, handing it over with a smile. 

As the night wore on you slowed down on the drinks, after Heeseung refused to get you another one when you asked him to but you still accepted nearly every shot offered to you. He could’ve spent the rest of the night just watching you laugh, but as the crowd grew louder and wilder, he realized you were a bit drunker than he had originally thought.

You were now fully leaning into him. The proximity made his pulse quicken. His hand rested next to your head and he was occasionally smoothing over your hair. His mind kept drifting back to how you looked tonight. How you’d pulled him onto the couch with such excitement as if he was the best thing you have seen all day. How much he still wanted to ruin your stupid lipstick. He couldn't stop staring at your lips.

“I’m so tired,” you mumbled, and before he could react, you nesteled your face onto his chest, moving your body while doing so and lifting your legs to hand over his thights.

He watched as your eyelids grew heavy. “You should stop drinking,” he said gently, gliding his hand along your back. You shuttered slightly and he was loving the effect he had on you. How reactive you were even though we was barely doing anything.

“I know,” you sighed, looking up at him. The sight made his heart race, and he fought to keep his expression neutral despite the way his pulse quickened at your gaze. Soobin and Yeonjun were sitting next to the two of you. “But it’s just so much fun!”

“I can take you home,” Heeseung offered, the protective side of him kicking in.

You shook your head. “No, I am staying at Lia and Ryujin’s. But they’re not answering their phones. My dad would freak if he saw me without my crutches. He’d lose his mind.”

Heeseung paused, running a hand through his hair, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “Okay, then come to my dorm.”

“Your dorm?” you repeated, eyes brightening slightly. “Is that really okay? I don’t want to crash your night.”

“It’s fine. I mean, Jake and Jay probably won’t be back until morning, anyway,” he reassured you, trying to keep his tone light.

You contemplated it for a moment, and Heeseung held his breath, hoping you’d say yes. You nodded, a small smile creeping across your face. “Okay, let’s go.”

“Let’s get you out of here,” Heeseung replied, helping you up, saying bye to your brother and his friend. 

The walk back to Heeseung’s dorm was slow and a bit wobbly, as you swayed gently on your feet. The chill in the night air didn’t seem to bother you. He offered you his jacket, but you denied claiming that you were so warm and you didn’t want to sweat into his jacket.

“Hey, can we take a quick pit stop?” you asked after a while, stopping mid-step and glancing around. “My foot is hurting, and I just need to sit for a second.”

“Alright,” Heeseung replied, his brows knitting together slightly with concern. He really did not want to let you sit down on the cold and slightly wet concrete floor in the middle of the campus. “You want me to give you a piggyback ride?”

“What? You want me to ride on your back?” you said, your eyes wide.

“It’s either that or a bladder infection for you,” he said, lifting his arms in mock surrender. “Your call.”

After a moment of hesitation, you grinned and climbed onto his back. When you wrapped your arms around his neck, the warmth of your body pressed against his back, Heeseung’s heart raced. The feel of your breath on his neck, the softness of your body against his—it was intoxicating.

He took steady strides, feeling your laughter vibrate against his back.

“You’re really strong!” you said, your voice muffled slightly against him. “I could get used to this!”

“Don’t get any ideas,” he replied, trying to sound serious but failing miserably.

Once inside, he gently set you down on his bed. You flopped back onto the mattress dramatically, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “This is amazing. I don’t wanna move anymore.”

Heeseung chuckled, running a hand through his hair as he leaned against the doorframe. “Don't you want to get out of that dress? It looks tight, and you’ll be uncomfortable if you sleep in it.”

You pouted, staring up at him with those stupidly adorable doe eyes. “But it’s so comfy here.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes playfully. “Come on, I’ll help you. We can’t have you sleeping in that.You don’t even like sleeping in leggings and I don't want you to complain all day tomorrow.”

With a little more coaxing, you reluctantly sat up, the slight sway in your movements reminding him how tipsy you still were.

“Okay, I might need help,” you admitted sheepishly.

He just laughed and took your cheek onto one hand and caressed it softly, “Alright. Just let me know what to do.”

As you turned your back to him, he helped you unzip the dress. “Just a little more,” he whispered, and he pulled the fabric down gently, letting it fall to the floor.

The sight of the scars on your back caught him off guard for a second. He knew they were there but you were keen on not letting anyone see any of your scars, wearing high waisted pants or skirts all the time. You have told him before, that you were quite insecure over them. The last thing he wanted to do right now was to make you uncomfortable. Instead, he focused on peeling the dress off of your body, feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his fingers.

“There you go,” he said, reaching for your set of pajamas in his closet. “Much better, right?”

“Mhm”, you nodded. Heeseung felt a warmth spread through him, watching as you nestled into his bed, claiming your space. He took a deep breath, trying to ease his sudden flustered state.

“Good, we need to hydrate,” he said, already moving toward the small fridge he kept in the corner. He rummaged through it and grabbed a bottle of water before heading back to the bed. “Drink up.”

You took the bottle eagerly, gulping down the water like it was the most refreshing thing in the world and flopped down onto his bed again, shielding your eyes with your arms. Heeseung chuckled at your actions and changed into his own pajamas. He coaxed you to go to the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed.

As you brushed your teeth, you stumbled a little while rinsing, giggling as Heeseung steadied you.

When you finally returned to the bed, you carefully adjusted yourself into a position that wouldn’t hurt your leg and snuggled into him. He felt your warmth seep into him, and he couldn’t help but wrap his arms around you.

“I feel so sleepy,” you murmured, your voice slightly muffled as you nestled closer.

“Then close your eyes and sleep, Y/N,” he replied quietly, resting his chin on top of your head, feeling your breathing slow down.

You put your hand onto his waist and squished your face into his chest. He was praying you didn’t notice his racing heart. He started tracing up and down your naked arm and just as he closed his eyes, he felt you sigh contentedly, your breath warm against his skin. “Heeseung?” you murmured, half-asleep already.

“Yeah?” he answered softly, glancing down at you.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” you mumbled, and within moments, he could tell you’d already drifted off into sleep.

Your eyes fluttered open, immediately assaulted by the glaring sunlight streaming into the room. You winced, instinctively trying to turn away from the light, but you couldn't move. Something was holding you down. Or, more precisely, someone. A familiar warmth, a scent you’d recognize anywhere - Heeseung. His chest rose and fell beneath you, steady and rhythmic, the sound of his slow breathing soothing against your ear. You were completely wrapped around him, using him like a full-body pillow—your head on his chest, arms draped over his torso, and your leg casually resting on top of his. His other arm was curled around you, holding you close. His head rested lightly on yours, his messy hair brushing against your forehead.

It wasn’t the first time you’d woken up like this. In fact, it had happened more times than you cared to admit. But each time felt like a new wave of confusion crashing over you. Friends didn’t wake up like this, right? Yet here you were again, tangled up in Heeseung’s arms, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

You sighed deeply, letting the warmth of his body seep into you as you tried to ignore the slow, dull pounding in your head. The light was making it worse, far too bright for your sensitive eyes. Carefully, you slid out of his arms, lifting his arm from your waist with a soft, reluctant tug. The cool air hit your skin, and you immediately missed Heeseungs warmth.

You winced slightly as you stood, your recovering leg was hurting more than it usually did after waking up. Maybe going all out with the cast on wasn’t the brightest idea. You pulled the curtains shut, dimming the room and giving your poor head some relief.

A quick glance back at the bed confirmed that Heeseung hadn’t moved an inch. He was laying there, still peacefully asleep, his hair tousled and his lips slightly parted. You hated how good he looked, even now, first thing in the morning. Last night at the party, when he had shown up in his stupidly perfect Greek god costume, you hadn’t been able to take your eyes off him. And it wasn’t just how he looked. It was everything. The way he was always so caring, so thoughtful. Despite being surrounded by people, he kept checking in on you—making sure you were okay, that you weren’t overdoing it with your cast. In Rihanna's words: he did make you feel like you were the only girl in the world.

After a quick stop in the bathroom to freshen up, you made your way back to Heeseung’s bed, your heart giving an involuntary flutter at the sight of him still sprawled out, completely at ease. He hadn’t moved since you left, still lost in sleep, his chest rising and falling gently.

As you slid back into the bed, careful not to disturb him, Heeseung stirred. Without hesitation, his arm found you again, pulling you right back against his chest. A sleepy groan rumbled through him as he snuggled closer, his nose brushing against your hair. The warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his breathing were comforting, almost enough to make you forget the pounding in your head and the dull ache in your leg.

You let your eyes wander over his face, taking in the soft curve of his lips, the faint shadow of stubble on his jaw, and the way his lashes fluttered slightly as he dreamed. He looked so peaceful, so relaxed, and so ridiculously hot, even now, sprawled out in his bed probably not nursing a hangover but still. It was unfair, really.

You buried your face against his chest, breathing him in—the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with something distinctly Heeseung. It was comforting. Addicting, even. And for a moment, you allowed yourself to get lost in it, to pretend that this was normal, that waking up with him like this could be your reality. But even as those thoughts tugged at you, the real reality remained the same: you and Heeseung were still just friends. Friends who somehow found themselves waking up tangled together, friends who shared the kind of closeness that made your heart race.

As you lay there, snuggled against Heeseung’s chest, you felt him stir beneath you. His breath hitched slightly before his body shifted, his hand gently trailing down your back as he woke up. You tried not to move, eyes still closed, but you could feel his sleepy gaze on you.

“Mornin’,” he mumbled softly, voice low and husky from sleep.

You tilted your head up to meet his eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Morning."

He blinked lazily, his warm brown eyes still heavy with sleep, but a soft smile spread across his face as he looked down at you. His hand brushed through your hair, his fingers grazing the nape of your neck in a way that sent little shivers down your spine. You were hyper-aware of how close you were to him, of the way his chest pressed against yours.

“You hungry?” he asked, his voice still quiet, almost a whisper as if not to disturb the moment.

Your stomach growled at that very second, earning a soft chuckle from him.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he teased, his eyes crinkling with amusement.

You groaned, burying your face into his chest out of embarrassment. “Starving,” you admitted, muffled against his shirt.

Heeseung shifted underneath you, slowly sitting up and gently moving you off his chest. “Alright, I’ll see what we’ve got.” He stretched, running a hand through his messy hair, and threw you a playful look before getting up and heading for the kitchen.

As he left the room, you took a moment to compose yourself, sitting up in his bed with a soft sigh. The warmth of the bed still lingered on your skin, and you couldn’t help but feel a little empty now that he was no longer lying next to you. You shook your head, trying to shake off the butterflies that seemed to be fluttering in your stomach, and made your way to the kitchen.

When you got there, Heeseung was already at the counter, holding up a box of Froot Loops with a playful grin. “It’s not much, but breakfast is served.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Perfect.”

The two of you sat down at the kitchen island, munching on the cereal together in comfortable silence. Every now and then, your eyes would meet across the table, a small smile shared between you.

As you finished your bowl, the sound of shuffling footsteps caught your attention. Jake stumbled out of his room, his hair a complete mess and his eyes half-shut. He grumbled something unintelligible, making a beeline for the coffee machine.

You watched, amused, as Jake poured himself a cup, taking one long sip before practically collapsing onto the couch. He barely made a dent in his coffee before lying down and pulling a blanket over his head.

“Good morning to you, too,” you called over to him, stifling a laugh.

Jake groaned in response, clearly not in the mood to be social. "Too loud," he mumbled, pulling the blanket tighter over his head.

You and Heeseung exchanged a look, sharing a quiet chuckle. Heeseung finished his cereal and stood up, stretching. “I’m gonna wash up. You good here?”

“Yeah,” you replied, stifling a yawn of your own. "I think I’ll head back to bed for a bit. It’s too early to be awake.”

Heeseung smirked, tossing his bowl into the sink. “Good idea.” He ruffled your hair lightly before disappearing into the bathroom.

Curling up in his bed felt like sinking into a cloud. His scent lingered on the pillows and sheets, a mix of clean soap and something distinctly him, and it was so comforting that you didn’t bother trying to fight the pull of sleep.

Heeseung returned to the room, fresh and looking even better after his quick wash-up. He smiled when he saw you curled up in his bed and slid in beside you, careful not to disturb you too much.

“Wanna watch Prison Break?” he asked softly, picking up the remote.

You nodded sleepily, cuddling closer to him as he pressed play. The intro music started, but your focus drifted more toward him than the screen. The warmth of his body, the way his scent surrounded you—it was impossible to focus on anything else. One of your hands was resting on his chest. You were carefully tracing the design that was printed on his shirt, trying to distract yourself enough to not fall asleep.

You froze as Heeseung’s fingers wrapped around yours, his hand warm and steady against your own.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice rough and low, sending shivers up your spine. His fingers left yours, only to trail upward, brushing against your arm before settling gently on your face.

“Y/N,” he said again, his voice softer now, laced with something you couldn’t quite place. His palm cupped your cheek with a tenderness that made your heart stutter, his thumb grazing your skin in slow, soothing circles. The intimacy of the gesture sent your senses into overdrive. His hand was warm, his touch light, but the closeness between you was almost too much to handle.

You dared to glance up, meeting his eyes. His gaze flickered downward, lingering on your lips for a beat too long before returning to yours. The proximity was dizzying. You could feel the faint brush of his breath against your face and it made your head spin.

“You’re making it really hard to focus,” he murmured, his thumb continuing its gentle path along your cheekbone.

“I’m not doing anything,” you whispered, but your voice was unsteady.

Heeseung’s lips tilted into a small, knowing smile. His other hand came up, cradling your face fully now, his fingers curling lightly around the edges of your jaw. He tilted your face up slightly, his thumb brushing over your chin in a way that left you breathless.

“You are,” he said softly, his tone leaving no room for argument. He leaned closer, his forehead brushing against yours as his voice dropped even lower. “You always do.”

“Heeseung…” you tried, your voice barely audible, but whatever you wanted to say evaporated as his fingers shifted, tilting your head just enough that his eyes could lock on yours completely. You were pretty sure that his expression was comparable to the one you gave your Taemin poster back in highschool.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered, the words so quiet they almost didn’t register.

You didn’t want to stop. The thought of pulling away was laughable. Instead, you gripped the front of his shirt. “I won’t,” you breathed, the words barely leaving your lips.

That was all he needed. He closed the gap between you, his lips hesitantly brushing against yours. It was soft at first, almost testing, but the moment you leaned into him, the kiss deepened.

You melted into him, your hand sliding up to tangle in his hair, and he groaned softly against your lips, the sound sending a thrill through you. His fingers danced across your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Every brush of his lips, every touch, sent electricity through your veins. His hand slid to the back of your neck, his fingers threading through your hair as he tilted your head slightly, deepening the kiss even more. A soft sound escaped you, and you could feel him smile against your lips..

You responded instinctively, your hand brushing against his chest, then sliding down to the hem of his shirt. The sensation of his warm skin under your fingertips made your breath hitch, but before you could let yourself get lost in the moment, he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours.

“You okay?” His voice was low, a little strained, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

You nodded, still breathing a little heavier than normal. “Yeah. Please don’t stop.”

You gave his hair a small tug again, bringing his lips back to yours. Heeseung’s lips never left yours as he slowly, almost reverently, moved you so that you were straddling him. His hands rested on your waist, his thumbs brushing softly against the exposed skin just above your hips, sending a shiver up your spine. His fingers gently graced the angry red scars along your hip.

“I—Sorry,” you muttered against his lips, your voice barely above a whisper. You turned your face away, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I didn’t mean for you to see those.”

Heeseung’s gaze softened, his fingers stopping at the hem of your shirt. He gently cupped your face with one hand, tilting it upward again so you had no choice but to look into his eyes. “Don’t apologize,” he said quietly, his voice sincere.

You opened your mouth to say something, but before you could, Heeseung’s fingers gently brushed over your scars again, this time intentionally. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. “All of you.”

“Heeseung…” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your gaze flickered down to his lips and then back up to meet his eyes again.

He leaned in again, capturing your lips. He deepened the kiss, his lips moving with a slow urgency. His hand, now fully under your shirt, splayed across your stomach, fingers tracing your skin in a way that made your breath hitch. You could feel his warmth radiating against you, every touch, every movement, setting your skin on fire. His lips left yours, trailing along your jawline, down to your neck, kissing, nipping at the skin there. You could feel the heat of his breath against your throat, each kiss igniting a fire that spread throughout your body.

“Can I take your shirt off Y/N”, he breathed out.

You just nodded and he carefully lifted you shirt up, revealing your upper body. He threw your (his) shirt off the bed and gently shifted the two of you, laying you back against the pillows. His lips hovered over yours, his breath warm against your skin as his eyes searched yours. “Fuck, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice deep and rough with emotion. “You’re so hot.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the unexpected comment catching you off guard, but the sound was quickly swallowed by him pressing his lips to yours with a fervor that left you breathless.

His hands began to explore your body again. His fingers grazed the curve of your waist, drifting higher, brushing the edge of your bra. The sensation drew a soft gasp from your lips, and the sound seemed to spur him on. His lips left yours to trail kisses along your jawline, down your neck, and lower. You felt the warm press of his lips against the scars along your hip. He kissed each mark with care, as if they were something to be cherished. Your breath hitched as his gaze flicked upward, meeting yours. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, overwhelmed by the intensity in his eyes. Unable to find the right words, you carefully reached down, your fingers brushing against his jaw as you guided his face closer to yours. Before you could speak, a sudden, sharp pounding on the door shattered the moment.

“Heeseung! I hate to break up whatever’s going on in there, but the coach wants us at the rink in, like, 30 minutes,” Jake’s voice rang out through the closed door.

Heeseung groaned, his forehead falling against yours as his lips curved into a reluctant smirk. “Of course,” he muttered, the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin. “The world’s worst timing award goes to your father.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly.

As Heeseung and Jake arrived at the rink, a heavy tension hung in the air. The team was scattered around the locker room, each member in a different state of exhaustion.

“Dude, yesterday got crazy after you left,” EJ muttered beside him, still rubbing his temples.

Nicolas, nursing a bruised cheek and offering a wry grin, added, “Not exactly our fault though. Kim Yeoso started it.”

Before Heeseung could ask for more details, the Coach’s voice echoed sharply across the room. “Line up. Now.”

The room fell silent, and a collective weight seemed to settle on everyone as the Coach’s gaze traveled down the line of players. His pacing was slow and deliberate. “Last night was a disgrace. I don’t care who threw the first punch or how it started—this is my team, and I don’t want this kind of attention.”

His glare seared through the team, and though he moved down the line, his eyes rested on Heeseung a beat longer than the others, his silent accusation unmistakable. Heeseung felt the full weight of the words, as if they were directed solely at him. His chest tightened, but he kept his face neutral, silently bracing himself as the Coach continued. Finally, your fathers eyes flickered back to the team with an almost weary finality. “Meeting’s over,” he said, dismissing the rest of the team. “Not you, Heeseung. Stay a minute.”

The players exchanged wary glances as they filed out, each one offering him silent nods of support. Heeseung turned to see the Coach shut the door, his expression shifting from professional disappointment to something far more personal.

His voice was colder than ever when he started speaking: “I’ll ask you once, Heeseung, and I expect a straight answer. What’s going on between you and Y/N?”

His jaw clenched as he quickly composed himself, being caught off guard by the question. “With all due respect, Coach,” he started, his voice calm but firm, ��my personal life and Y/N’s are private. I don’t feel it’s appropriate to discuss this with you.”

The Coach’s face darkened, his patience clearly wearing thin. “You think I’m just some overprotective dad, Heeseung?” he bit out, his tone cutting. “She’s barely recovered, and getting involved with you is a distraction she doesn’t need. If you care about her as much as you seem to, you’d understand that.”

Heeseung felt his hands clench at his sides, the anger simmering beneath his calm exterior. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to keep his voice steady. “I understand what she’s been through, Coach. But Y/N is stronger than you’re giving her credit for. And I’m not backing off because it makes you uncomfortable.”

The air between them turned icy. Your fathers expression hardened. “Then you’re making a mistake,” he warned, his voice low, barely contained. “Because if you don’t back off, I’ll make sure there are consequences. And that’s not a threat, Heeseung—that’s a promise.”

Heeseung’s pulse pounded as the gravity of Coach’s words settled in, but he stood firm, his voice unwavering.

“I’m sorry, Coach Choi. But with all due respect, I’m not going anywhere.”

No matter what Coach threatened, Heeseung knew he wouldn’t step back. He was already drafted and chose to go back to college hockey, so the Coach had nothing on him.

Your father held his gaze a moment longer, his expression unreadable but filled with a disappointed resolve. “Fine,” he said curtly. “Then don’t expect me to go easy on you.” Without another word, he turned and walked out, leaving Heeseung standing alone in the empty locker room.

“It’s not about whether or not you think you’re fine!” Your fathrs voice is sharper than ever, frustration bubbling over as he paces in front of you. “You’re ignoring your own recovery. The doctors said you could walk without crutches, but they didn’t say to push yourself to the point of needing another surgery. What are you thinking?”

The accusation stinged, sharp and unexpected. You blinked, willing yourself not to let him see how much that hurt. Another surgery. He knew, maybe better than anyone, how terrified you were of that possibility. And here he was, throwing it in your face as if it’s something you’d choose—like you’d ever risk it on purpose.

A mix of disbelief and anger rose within you, and you stood up, meeting his intense gaze. “You know I don’t want that. You know better than anyone what I’ve been through, and you think I’d risk more just for one night? I’m not being reckless, I’m just… living my life.”

“Living your life?” he snapped back, his tone filled with frustration. “Living your life means ignoring everything you’ve fought to rebuild, just for a night of fun? I’m trying to keep you from setting yourself back.”

“You’re acting like I don’t take this seriously! Like I haven’t been doing everything I can to heal. I know my body better than anyone, Dad. I can take care of myself. I don’t need you treating me like I’m made of glass.”, your voice was shaking in anger. When your father and Soobin returned from the rink you weren’t even able to properly greet them, before your father started berating you.

Soobin’s voice cut through the tension, calm but unwavering. “She’s an adult, Dad. Y/N knows her limits. You can’t keep controlling everything.”

Your dad turned sharply to face Soobin, his gaze hard. “This isn’t about what she thinks she can handle, Soobin. It’s about being realistic, about protecting her from making choices she’ll regret later.”

Soobin didnt back down. “But you’re treating her like she’s fragile when she’s proven over and over that she’s not.”

“I just don’t want her making reckless decisions,” your dad insited, but his eyes slide back to you. Your dad’s tone was sharp as he moved past your injuries.

“And then there’s Heeseung.” The way he says his name makes you flinch. “He’s a distraction, Y/N. You’re already pushing yourself too hard, and now you’re getting involved with someone who won’t be there when things get difficult. If you’re not careful, you’ll lose focus on everything that matters. And in addition to that you are distracting my captain from his duties.”

Before you could respond, Soobin stepped forward, his voice firm. “Dad, you’re being unfair.”

Your dad turned, surprised, but Soobin stood his ground. “You know Heeseung. You were the one who made him captain because you trusted him to lead. He’s responsible, he’s focused, and he cares about Y/N, more than you’re giving him credit for.”

Your dad’s expression hardened, and he crossed his arms. “He’s a good player, Soobin. But he’s young, and he doesn’t understand what Y/N needs right now.”

“And you think you do?” You countered, voice tight with frustration. “I am an adult. I know what I'm doing. And Heeseung’s been there for me, supporting me, making sure I am taking care of myself. He’s never pushed me into anything that would risk me recovery.”

Your father hesitated, his gaze moving between you and Soobin, a flicker of doubt finally creeping into his expression. But he quickly brushed it off, his jaw set in a familiar look of stubbornness. “You’re not seeing the big picture. I’m trying to protect you, to keep you from making choices you'll regret later.”

You couldn’t hold back anymore. “The only thing I’m going to regret is not standing up for what I want and what I know I can handle. Heeseung isn’t the problem here, Dad. And if you would actually talk to me, you’d know that he’s been nothing but respectful and supportive.”

Soobin looked at your father, his tone more measured. “I trust Heeseung, Dad. You should, too. And more than that, you need to trust Y/N. She knows her limits better than anyone else here.”

Your father’s silence spoke volumes. Finally, he lets out a slow breath, his gaze softening just slightly. “I just… I don’t want to see you get hurt, Y/N.”

“I know,” you said, your voice steadier now. “But I’m not going to let fear control me.”

For once, he didn’t argue, and though the silence remains strained, there’s a glimmer of something that felt like reluctant acceptance. Soobin squeezed your shoulder in quiet reassurance.

You and Soobin sat cross-legged on Yeonjun's living room floor, surrounded by discarded pizza boxes and half-empty soda cans. You let out a frustrated groan and leaned back, resting your head against the couch right next to Beomgyu's thigh, who patted your head in solidarity.

“Maybe you should just… move out? Like properly," Beomgyu suggested, his voice gentle but with a hint of urgency. "If he sees you’re capable on your own, maybe he’d finally get that you’re an independent adult who knows what she’s doing.”

You sighed. “I’d love to, honestly. But how am I even supposed to manage that?” You groaned, rubbing your temples. “It’s not like I have a job—he’s always insisted that I focus on school, hockey, or ‘recovery.’ Everything’s paid for by him. So if I tried to move out, I’d probably have to ask him for rent money anyway. I’m not really independent.”

Soobin, sitting cross-legged beside you, crossed his arms. “Mom would definitely cover your rent if you asked. She’s offered to help me plenty of times.”

Yeonjun, lounging on the other side of the room with a slice of pizza in hand, smirked. “Yeah, and Soobin, you should really take her up on that sometime. You’ve crashed on my couch way too many nights,” he teased, nudging Soobin’s leg with his foot. “Maybe I could ask her.” You shrugged, the thought of moving out felt a bit daunting.

“Trust me, we’ll find you a place that works,” Yeonjun assured, with his usual casual confidence. He reached over and tousled your hair, smiling as he added, “And hey, if nothing else, my couch will always be happy to host any Choi family member.”

“Thanks, Yeonjun,” you laughed, feeling a little lighter.

In the end, you decided to stay at Yeji’s and Ryujin’s dorm for a few days. You weren’t ready for the full commitment of moving out just yet, but the space away from home was a welcome relief. Their couch became your temporary refuge, a safe distance from the constant arguments and suffocating expectations. 

And it seemed your dad got the hint after a few days of you not coming home and keeping conversations strictly professional at work. You noticed his glances lingering a bit longer than usual whenever he’d pass you at the rink, sometimes with a sigh or a hesitant pause, as if he wanted to say something but held back. Each time he tried, though, Soobin, your (now official) boyfriend, or one of their friends would step in, steering you away from him, often under the guise of needing help with some “urgent task.” 

Heeseung was sprawled out on the couch, fingers deftly moving over the controller as he focused intently on the game playing out on the screen. The familiar sounds of COD echoed through the apartment. You had just returned from physiotherapy, and the session had left you exhausted. You rested your head in Heeseung’s lap, the soft fabric of his sweatpants cushy against your cheek.

“Gotcha!” Heeseung exclaimed suddenly, his excitement pulling you out of your sleepy haze. Just as you began to relax back into the soothing rhythm of him playing, the ringing of Heeseung's phone cut through the peaceful atmosphere. He frowned, glancing down at the screen.

“It’s Jay,” he said, rolling his eyes playfully. He answered the call, holding the phone to his ear. “What’s up?”

You shifted slightly in his lap, burying your face into his stomach, seeking more comfort. Heeseung chuckled, brushing your hair back gently. “Yeah, I’m here. What’s going on?”

As Jay spoke on the other end, Heeseung’s face lit up with a smile. “Oh, curry sounds good!”

At the mention of curry, you stirred, raising your head to look at him. “Oh yes curry.” you mumbled sleepily, your voice muffled against his shirt. Heeseung raised an eyebrow at you, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Want curry?” he asked, repeating your question back to you. You nodded slowly, still feeling heavy with tiredness, and you buried your face deeper into his stomach as if hiding from the world. You nodded sleepily, and he relayed the message to Jay. “Y/N’s here, and she’s definitely in for some curry,” he said, laughing at how cozy you looked all curled up against him.

After hanging up, Heeseung glanced down at you, his expression softening. “Jay is bringing over curry, is that fine with you?”

You nodded, still half-asleep. “Yeah.”

He chuckled softly, running his fingers through your hair. You shifted again, resting your cheek against his stomach, your eyes fluttering shut for just a moment longer.

“You’re warm,” you murmured, feeling the vibrations of his laughter through your body.

Heeseung’s hand continued to play with your hair, a peaceful silence settling over the room again. “You know, if you keep this up, we might miss dinner and just sleep until tomorrow,” he teased, and you just nodded, not responding anymore.

As sleep began to take hold, Heeseung gently scooped you up in his arms and carried you to his bedroom, tucking you under the blankets. The last thing you felt was his warmth beside you, and then you were out like a light.

You awoke to the sound of animated voices and the smell of food. Blinking against the light, you felt slightly disoriented. As you stepped into the kitchen area, you latched onto Heeseung’s back, burying your face into his shoulder. He chuckled softly, clearly amused.

“Well good evening, nice of you to join us,” he said, leaning back into you.

Jay and Jake turned, both bursting into laughter at the sight. “Look at you two! So cute,” Jake teased, leaning against the counter with a smug grin.

“Heeseung’s gotten so soft, it’s actually embarrassing.” Jay added, shaking his head in mock disbelief. 

As you took a seat at the table, Jay served up generous portions of steaming curry, filling the kitchen with a delicious warmth. You nestled into the chair beside Heeseung, pulling his hoodie sleeves over your hands to keep cozy.

Jake leaned back in his chair, digging into his food. “Not gonna lie, this curry tastes like heaven after today’s practice,” he said, letting out a small groan of appreciation.

Heeseung nodded, laughing. “Tell me about it. Coach was on us the whole time, especially after the last game. I can still feel the bruises from blocking shots in the scrimmage.”

Jake joined in with a laugh. “Y/N, you should’ve seen him. Dude was practically diving in front of pucks like it was a championship game.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Absolutely no chill.”

“Hey, that ‘no chill’ gets results,” Heeseung shot back, grinning before glancing at you a little more seriously.

“Actually… speaking of practice. Your dad stopped me today. He asked about you.”

You paused mid-bite, meeting Heeseung’s gaze. “ What did he say?”

“Nothing pushy,” Heeseung said, clearly choosing his words carefully. “He just asked if I’d seen you and if you were doing alright.”

You took a moment to process it, unsure how to feel. “I mean, he has been calling. And he has been asking Soobin and Minji where I am. Soobin just told to guess where I am.”

Jay gave a thoughtful nod. “Well, maybe he is trying to fix things?.”

Heeseung gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb tracing slow circles over your knuckles. “I think Jay has a point. Maybe it’s worth giving him a chance to apologize.”

You sighed, your eyes drifting down to your half-finished plate. “It’s just… every time we have a conversation, he manages to make it feel like I’m doing something wrong. Like I’m throwing away his idea of the perfect future, or like my decisions don’t matter. I don’t know if I want to go through all that again.”

Jake, who had been quietly stirring his drink, chimed in with a thoughtful look. “Maybe this time you don’t have to go through all of it. Talk to him on your terms. You don’t owe him anything more than what you’re comfortable with.”

Heeseung nodded. “Exactly. You can set boundaries. I’ll even be there if you want—or, you know, Soobin could tag along for backup moral support.”

Jake chuckled, giving you a reassuring smile. “Just let him do all the talking. Sometimes people need to hear themselves to realize how ridiculous they sound.”

You exhaled slowly,”I’ll think about it.”

You entered the rink together with Jays girl (space) friend, ready to capture the day’s events. The hockey team had organized a special event where they would teach local kids the basics of hockey, and you were there to film some PR content. Heeseung crouched down, demonstrating how to hold a stick while surrounded by a group of eager kids. You couldn’t help but smile as you filmed, completely enchanted by how cute he looked in his hockey gear, patiently explaining everything while the kids watched with wide eyes.

After a while, Heeseung noticed you filming from the sidelines and excused himself from the kids. He made his way over to you.

“Hi baby.” he greeted you, gently taking your face in his hands, tilting it up toward him. His eyes searched yours for a moment, and then he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. It was sweet and tender, and you melted into him, completely forgetting about the cameras and the kids for a few blissful seconds.

“Ew. Boo! Get a room!” Beomgyu called out from the sidelines, pretending to gag dramatically, his face scrunched up in mock disgust. You rolled your eyes playfully, trying to suppress a smile.

“Sorry, Beomgyu. Didn’t know you were such a romantic,” you shot back.

Heeseung chuckled. “Don’t be jealous, Gyu. Just appreciate the love in the air.” Heeseung pecked your lips again and went back onto the ice, regrouping the kids for another round of activities. 

Heeseung made his way up to your office when the event ended. He knocked at your door and peaked his face into the room: “Let’s go home babe. The kids are all gone.”

“Give me ten minutes. I’ll be done with the Tiktok recap for today.”, you said, softly smiling at him.

“Sure thing.”, he plopped down onto the sofa in your office and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

As you wrapped up the editing, you couldn’t help but glance over at him. Heeseung was focused, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration, and you felt a rush of affection. When you finished, you got up and sat down on his lap, surprising him.

“Hey there,” he said, a smile breaking through his concentration. His hands found their way to your sides, his touch warm.

“Hi Love.” You leaned in closer, caressing his cheek gently. “I gotta say seeing you with kids? Might be one of the best things ever.” you teased, inching your lips closer to his.

Heeseung’s eyes sparkled, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. “Oh yeah? I guess I’ll have to volunteer more often, then.”

“You just might have to,” you replied, leaning in closer, letting your hand drift to his cheek, your thumb brushing his skin.

He closed the gap between you. The kiss was soft at first, just a gentle brushing of lips, but it quickly deepened as he pulled you closer, his hands resting firmly on your waist. You melted against him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you lost yourself in the moment. You tilted your head to the side and gasped when Heeseung traced your lips with his tongue. His hands started caressing your thighs as you broke the kiss to breathe for a second. He directed his focus onto your neck, kissing it softly.

You closed your eyes and whispered his name, when a sharp knock on your door made you jump apart. “Y/N? Do you have a minute for me?”, your fathers deep voice came from the other side of the door.

You threw a panicked glance at Heeseung, who was frantically trying to smooth his hair and pull his sweatshirt into a more composed position. If your ears were even half as red as his, your father would definitely know what he’d just interrupted. With a quick attempt to brush your own hair back, you got up, meeting Heeseung’s sheepish smile with a reassuring one of your own.

Finally, you took a steadying breath and walked to open the door. “Sure, Dad. Come in.”

Your father stepped inside, taking in the two of you with an expression that looked almost nervous? “Y/N,” he began, his voice hesitant, “can I talk to you for a minute? Both of you, actually.”

You exchanged a quick, curious look with Heeseung before nodding. Heeseung sat up straighter, and your dad took a deep breath before sinking into the office chair opposite you.

“I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” your dad started, his hands clasped tightly together. “About everything… about how I’ve treated you since the accident.” His voice cracked slightly, and you felt your chest tighten.

“I’ve been so hard on you, Y/N. Pushing, hovering, nagging… It’s like I’ve been trying to fix something I can’t undo.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his vulnerability. “Dad…”

“No, let me finish,” he interrupted gently, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I can’t forgive myself for what happened. I feel like I failed you. You’re so young, and you’ve had to deal with so much—too much. And instead of helping you heal, I made things worse by trying to control everything. I just… I couldn’t stand the thought of you hurting, and I thought that if I stayed on top of everything, it might somehow fix things.”

The raw emotion in his voice left you speechless.

“I was wrong,” he continued, looking up at you now, his eyes glassy. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. You didn’t deserve that. You deserved someone who could help you without suffocating you.”

You swallowed hard, your throat tight. “Dad, I—”

“And Heeseung,” your dad continued, turning his attention to the boy at your side. The tension in the room seemed to double.

Heeseung straightened, his jaw tightening as if bracing for a blow.

“I was hard on you. I know that,” your dad admitted.

“When I found out about you and Y/N, I wasnt exactly happy.”

You winced at the memory, glancing at Heeseung, who gave a small, humorless smile.

“I didn’t want her getting hurt,” your dad said, his voice softer now. “But I realize now that I was wrong about you.” He paused, running a hand over his face before meeting Heeseung’s gaze again. “You’re not just a great captain. You’re a good man. And I couldn’t ask for anyone better to be with my daughter.”

Heeseung looked stunned, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to process the words. Finally, he managed a quiet, “Thank you, sir.”

Your dad gave a small, rueful smile. “You’ve earned it. Both of you have. And I hope you’ll forgive me for the way I’ve handled things. I know it’ll take time to rebuild some of the trust I’ve broken, but I just wanted you both to know how sorry I am.”

For a long moment, silence hung in the air. You felt Heeseung’s hand brush against yours, grounding you, and you reached out to take your dad’s hand.

“Thank you, Dad,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion. “I’m still mad at you, a little. But… I’m glad you said this. It means a lot.”

Heeseung nodded beside you, his own expression softening. “We appreciate it,” he said sincerely. “Really.” Your dad gave a small, watery smile.

The hotel room was softly lit, the glow from the bedside lamp casting a golden hue. You were at the small vanity, adjusting your earrings. Behind you, Heeseung was sprawled out on the bed, still in his undershirt and slacks, scrolling absentmindedly on his phone.

“You’re not even close to being ready,” you teased, catching his reflection in the mirror.

Heeseung smirked, locking his phone and stretching out lazily. “I’m waiting for you to come help me with this dumb tie. You know I suck at it.”

“You could have learned by now,” you chided, turning to face him. “But no, you just like making me do it for you.”

“Maybe,” he said, sitting up. “But it’s also an excuse to keep you close.”

You rolled your eyes but crossed the room anyway. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I knew you couldn’t resist me,” he teased, sitting up and letting his knees part slightly so you could stand between them.

Heeseung grinned, holding the tie up like a peace offering. You took it from him, carefully looping and pulling it into a neat knot. He watched you the entire time, his eyes soft and unwavering.

“You’re staring,” you mumbled, focusing on his tie.

“Because you’re beautiful,” he said simply.

Your fingers faltered for a second before continuing, looping the tie around his neck and starting to knot it.

“You’re so cheesy.”

“And you love it,” he quipped, echoing your usual response.

Heeseung tilted his head slightly, watching you with that warm, unrelenting gaze that always made your heart skip. As you finished the tie, your fingers brushing against his chest, he reached out to grab your hand, stopping you before you could step back. “Are you sure I look good enough to be seen with you?”

You arched a brow, feigning consideration. “Hmm. Maybe. You clean up okay.”

“Just okay?” he asked, tugging gently on your hand to pull you closer. His other hand slid to your waist, his thumb tracing slow circles against the fabric of your dress.

“Better than okay,” you admitted softly, feeling his warmth seep through the fabric.

“That’s more like it.” Heeseung’s voice dropped an octave. His free hand reached up, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before his fingers traced lightly down the side of your neck.

“You’re staring again,” you murmured, your voice unsteady under his gaze.

“Can you blame me?” he said, his lips quirking into a grin. “You’re stunning.”

“Flatterer,” you mumbled, though your cheeks flushed at his words.

“You’re blushing,” he teased, leaning in until your noses were almost touching.

“Stop it,” you whispered, half laughing, but you didn’t pull away.

“Make me.” 

He didn’t give you a chance to respond before his lips were on yours, soft at first, just a gentle brush. But the moment you leaned into him, he made a low sound deep in his throat, and the kiss shifted—growing hungrier, more urgent. His hand slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him, while the other cradled your face. One of his hands came up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek, the simple gesture making your heart race even faster.

You couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped you when he deepened the kiss, his tongue tentatively exploring as though he was savoring every second. Your hands instinctively flew to his hair, tangling in the soft strands as you pulled him closer. He groaned at the sensation, his fingers tightening slightly against your back. A soft whimper escaped your throat when he tilted his head, adjusting the angle to kiss you even deeper. His lips were warm and insistent, moving against yours with a mixture of passion and care that made your heart race. The hand on your back shifted, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles that made your skin tingle even through the fabric of your dress.

He pulled back just slightly, enough to draw in a breath, but his forehead stayed pressed to yours. His eyes were hooded, his pupils dark with something that made your stomach flip. His thumb grazed your lower lip.

“You’re going to drive me crazy,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.

“Right back at you,” you whispered, but before you could catch your breath, he leaned back in, capturing your lips again.

This time, the kiss was slower but no less intense, his lips lingering as though memorizing the taste of you. His hand drifted upward, tangling lightly in the hair at the nape of your neck, while yours tightened their grip in his. The small tug you gave his hair made him groan again, the sound vibrating against your lips and sending a delicious thrill down your spine. His free hand slid along your waist, his fingers curling slightly against the fabric of your dress as though he couldn’t decide whether to hold you closer or take his time exploring. A small, breathless sound escaped you, and he pulled back just enough to look at you.

“You taste like vanilla,” he murmured, his voice husky and low.

“Is that a complaint?” you asked, your voice breathless, your fingers still tangled in his hair.

“Not even close,” he whispered before diving back in, his lips capturing yours with a renewed fervor.

When he finally pulled away, his lips hovered just above yours, a self-satisfied smirk spreading across his face.“Still think we’re going to be late?”

You laughed, brushing a hand through his hair to smooth it. “Definitely.”

“And I don’t even feel bad about it,” he said, leaning in to steal one more kiss before letting you go.

“Come on,” you said, grabbing your clutch from the nightstand. “Get your jacket. We’re already pushing it.”

He hopped up, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair. As you turned toward the door, he caught your hand and pulled you back to him. “For the record,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear, “I don’t care if we miss the gala entirely. I’ve already got everything I want right here.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face. “You’re impossible.”

“I am just lucky you love me.” he said, flashing you that boyish grin as he opened the door for you.

Thank you so much for reading! Lots of Love

[izzabela]

Hear me out hear me out.

A make out sesh with the masked characters while they still have their masks on plus the female characters if you’d be so kind.

Please and thank you.

Off or On? - MK1 (2023) Roster x GN!reader (scenario fic)

in which you make out with some of the characters with their masks on

a/n: guys... ermac may be cool but they still a dead body...

ship[s]: bi han, tomas, kuai liang, kitana, mileena, rain, reptile, general shao, takeda x gn! reader (scenarios)

warning(s): suggestive endings, kanon and non-kanon

=====================

Bi Han - Coming Home

- You waited anxiously for Bi Han in the main courtyard, pacing in the snow as you limped on a crutch. The snow could be heard beneath your feet as you kept pacing

- Bi Han was away on another mission, taking your place since your injury rendered you unable to perform. It pissed you off, especially since Bi Han tasked his brothers to take care of you

- Now, you pace in circles as you wait for any signal that a portal would appear from thin air

-Suddenly, flickers and sparks appear in the air as they form in a circle. Fire borders the portal, and out walks the iconic blue uniform and black and silver mask of Bi Han

- He's got blood on the fabric, also on his pants, but his hands remain clean. His mask also has bits of blood on it, but it adds to the charm of it all. He sighs as he walks out, and his mask hides the little smile on his face as you limp over to him and throw yourself in his arms

- "Welcome home, grandmaster," you say as you dig your face in his chest. Bi Han looks down at your face as you meet his eyes up above

- "Yes, thank you beloved," Bi Han says. He brushes your hair out of your face, and his eyes flutter close as he initiates a kiss

- Your lips meet something cold, but your eyes are closed and refusing to open. You pepper the mask with many kisses, and Bi Han realizes that his mask is still on

- "Apologies, my dear," he says as he takes his mask off. However, you stop him from taking it off

- "Keep it on... I like it like that," you whisper, hiding your face as it turns a little pink

- Bi Han chuckles as he sweeps you off your feet, beelining for the bedroom to give himself a proper welcome home with you

=====================

Tomas - Stay Quiet

- You and Tomas stay well-hidden in a tree, stalking the enemy for anything related to information regarding a new Earthrealm threat

- Unfortunately, nothing noteworthy appeared, and the enemy retires for the night, but not you two

- You both sit on a thick branch to rest, stretching and moving your limbs in order to stay fit and ready. Once all done, you lay down and have your head in Tomas's lap

- "You can't be tired already," Tomas gently scolds, petting your head as you giggle

- "I'm only resting, love. It'll take a lot more to wear me down," you say. Tomas chuckles, pulling you up in his lap and your eyes level with his

- Your hand cups his masked cheek, the rough material littered with scratches and dents from years of use

- However, it was an integral part of his identity, and an integral part to your physical attachment to him

- The mask perfectly hugs his lower face, and your fingers trace the silhouette of his mask. Tomas catches your hand and gently pulls it down and away

- Yours and his eyes become hazy, lidded with desire at the fact that there was some downtime for one another on this perilous mission

- You kiss the mask, and Tomas's hands roam your clothed back to pull you close. His breathing is muffled and labored, and he pulls away from you quickly to take it off

- "Wait! Don't take it off..." you tell him in a semi-hushed tone

- "Why? It will get in the way." Tomas is perplexed by your adamant refusal to his mask being off

- "I, uh..." you don't finish your sentence as you look away and cover your face. However, your neck is growing more colored as the warmth of embarrassment floods you

- Tomas just chuckles, pulling you close before his hands begin to roam under your uniform and undershirt

=====================

Kuai Liang - Hard Day

- Kuai Liang's breath was hard and labored behind his mask, taking a break from training Shirai Ryu initiates

- He sat on the wooden platform of the compound, away from all the ruckus and yelling of the initiates. The wind was blowing perfectly, and the temperature outside was nice and cool

- What was not cool, though, was how you surprised him from behind. Still, he managed to move just in time to avoid your childish antics

- "Ah! So close..." you groan as your arms crossed over one another, missing his sides as he stands in front of you

- He chuckles, "That was a good attempt, but it appears you'll need more training." You sigh, and you both sit down together

- "Hard day?" you ask, and he nods as he removes his mask for a couple of minutes to drink some water

- You chuckle, taking his mask and help him to put it back on. He thanks you once you hook the ends of the mask to his ears

- Mistakenly, though, he kisses your forehead with the mask on. His eyes are wide, embarrassed as his eyes dart away from yours shyly. You don't mind though, and grab his face to meet your eyes

- "Don't turn away from me, dear," you say softly, planting a quick kiss on the cheek part of his mask

- You both lean in, and your lips collide with the metal of his mask. You can hear him breathing hard, and feel his hands exploring your body under your uniform

- "But my mask..." he whispers, voice drowned out by the thickness of his mask

- "I quite like it..." you say with a little blush

- He picks you up, and it seems Kuai Liang's hard day becomes easier with you in his arms, together in bed

=====================

Kitana - Post-tournament

- Kitana sits alone, only the hanging wisterias and the stars her company

- Her sister was receiving treatment for Tarkat, meaning she had to fight in her place during the kombat tournament

- However, she was beaten by an Earthrealm farmer. A humble one. While she was pleased with his humility and great patience, it made her feel...

- Disappointed. A failure. She let her mother, her sister, and her kingdom down

- She sighs again as she blinks away tears that begin to roll out of her eyes. Her mask catches them, but the fabric begins to grow just a bit damp

- "Your highness?" a voice calls. She knows it, and she turns around to find a worried expression on your face

- "Ah, hello my love," Kitana sniffles as she elegantly covers her face with a fan of hers

- "Don't hide from me, dear, I heard you as I was coming to meet you," you tut and gently nag her

- She sighs yet again, not hiding her feelings as she pats the empty spot on the bench. You sit by her and hear about her performance and how it affected her

- "My dear," you cup her mask face as she begins to hiccup and cry a little more freely. "My dear, you still did exceptionally well!"

- You wipe her tears, peppering her face with kisses around her eyes and the places where her tears fell

- You then plant a kiss on her mask. While it is sturdy, it is made of Edenian fabric, so you can feel the outline of her lips

- You giggle as you pull away, but in past the tears that lined her eyes, the makeup she wore, it was clear she liked that

- "Shall I continue, dearest Kitana?" you ask, and she wraps her arms around you to pull you closer

- Your lips find hers again, and the mask gets just a little damp at how deep you're kissing the princess. Her breath is ragged, and you can hear the squeaks and little moans she lets out behind her mask

- "Someone is feeling a little better now," you tease her as you wipe your mouth

- She chuckles, wiping her eyes as she gets up from her seat with your hand in hers

- "Perhaps you can make me feel even better, my love," she drawls out, eyes half-lidded as she swings your arm

- You pray that Argus gives you the strength to hold back tonight

=====================

Mileena - Imperial Duties

- Mileena stretched on her throne, moving her arms up and down and stretching her legs out

- Hell, she took her mask off to stretch both her human and Tarkatan jaw- she was that pooped from today

- Another day, another list of imperial chores, meetings, and items to get through. Honestly, how her mother did it was a question between her and the gods

- Mileena was relishing in her role as Empress, and doing well fitting in her mother's shoes, but it was still a job

- And whether you like it or not, even queens hate their jobs

- Just as she was about to blow off some steam with more training, a servant came in the throne room with an announcement you're coming through

- You bow as the servant moves out the way, and a soft exhale left her mouth at the sight of you

- "Hello, beloved," Mileena greets you. You smile as you walk closer

- "How are you faring with your duties?" you ask as you stop at the steps of the throne. Mileena growls, eyes sharpening a bit as she pats her lap for you to sit

- You're shocked, "A-are you sure? There are people..." Mileena just huffs as she sends everyone away

- Including the Umgadi

- "E-empress!" you're shocked as she takes you in her lap. She's tall enough already, her heels make her even taller

- Not only that, but from the constant kombat and sparring she did, her muscles were well-defined and formed

- "I despise the imperial politics," Mileena mumbles into your back. You giggle as you reach behind to pat her head

- "Imperial duties, my beloved," you sympathize

- Despite the mask she wore, you could feel the littlest breath come through. Seems that bits of her Tarkat were coming through, and she normally wore it when it got bad

- Funny, since everyone knows about her disease

- You turn in her lap and meet her eyes. Her eyes crease a bit as yours does, and you give her just a quick peck on the spot of her mask where her lips are

- "Feel better now?" you ask, stroking her face gently

- "Hm..." Mileena ponders a bit, before pulling you in close once more for another kiss

- You kiss at the same spot, and the mask becomes a little damp at how badly you want her actual lips to hit yours. Your moans become a little more apparent as her slender fingers stroke up and down on your side

- "E-empress!" you cry out as her fingers find your skin under your garments. Mileena chuckles lowly, taking you in her arms as she gets off the throne

- "Beg for more, dearest. You'll need the mercy of your empress in a few short moments."

- You gulp, "Delia, give me the strength..."

=====================

Rain - Hidden

- You wait patiently in a rundown shack on the outskirts of Sun Do

- Constables aren't everywhere, since it isn't the capital, but they are around. It worries you, but they're gone as you hear floorboards creaking in the shack

- You gasp as your head snaps behind you. Your eyes search the darkness, and you can hear the warbling of water swirling in the corner. Theres also a little light illuminating there

- "Zefferro? you call the hydromage's name. The water stops, and a figure emerges from the darkness

- "My pearl..." his voice draws from behind the mask. It's soft, almost distant, but he's here in the flesh

- You throw your arms around him as you catch him in a hug. His arms wrap around your waist as you breathe his scent in. He smells like the sea, mostly due to his magic, and he smells like the outside

- "I've come bearing gifts," he whispers, forehead on yours as he shows you a bag next to his staff

- "I told you to stop stealing for me," you scold him, pushing him away as you grab the bag of food. "You must stay hidden!"

- Inside the bag, all your favorite snacks stare you in the face. Sweet candies, salty chips, even fried street foods. You couldn't stay mad at him, and you look over your shoulder with a downturned smile

- "You cannot remain angry forever, my pearl," he teases you as he closes in on you again

- You sigh once again. Rolling your eyes as you meet him in the middle. On your side, a table stands in the middle of the room, and you place the bag there as Rain wraps his hands around your waist

- "You are right, but you cannot remain out here forever," you tell him, sobering him up at his current situation

- After the fall of Seido, he had to serve time in imperial prison, but he left you behind. You had no one to protect you, a normal Sun Do resident with no powers, and you lived in constant fear that you'd be run out of your home if people learned of your connection to the former high mage

- He wanted you safe, even if it meant at the expense of himself

- "Pearl, nothing else matters but your happiness and protection," he whispers as he looks you deep in your eyes.

- There is so much love and strength in them, but pain that he'd need to leave again. To make the most of it, you kiss his mask, in the place where his lips would be. Rain is a bit shocked (slightly weirded out), but it is welcome regardless

- "Zefferro..." you say in a voice barely above a whisper. Rain's exhale is shaky, almost like he's going to cry

- He leans in again, and your lips attack his mask. His breath is ragged as his hands climb up from under your shirt, roaming your upper chest area. You moan at the feeling of his fingers, moving fluidly like the magic he controlled

- "Let me remove this," he says, but you stop him and sit on the table, pushing the mask back on his face

- "You must stay hidden, right love?" you smile shyly, and Zefferro's gaze darkens at your innocent flirtation

- The table creaks as Zefferro towers over you, and you smile as he begins to undress you where you two were supposed to eat

=====================

Reptile/Syzoth - Spar Reward

- Syzoth is panting as his arms falter from the stress of holding them up against the blue-clad princes

- "I yield!" Syzoth yells, arms giving out as he falls onto his back

- Kitana chuckles, putting her fans away on her pants and removing her mask before coming to his aid

- "Good work, Syzoth," Kitana praises, "There is room for improvement, but you are on the right track"

- Syzoth gets up with Kitana's help, and he bows before grabbing some water

- As he takes many long drinks, his ears pick up on a new set of footprints. He can also smell a familiar, grassy and dewy, scent from behind him

- He turns his head and is met with your beautiful being, dressed in formal attire as you had come from a court meeting. You smile at him, quickly bow to Kitana, then make your way to Syzoth

- "How have you been, love? Is training going well?" you ask him as you wipe down his arms, a little gesture you do every time you see him

- He nods, "I find it difficult to train in human form. I do not understand how this form is so comfortable for you..."

- You roll your eyes, "You say that like I, too, can shift form."

- Kitana takes leave from the area, allowing you two a private couple moment. As you two talk, you massage Syzoth's shoulders

- "You train so hard, you deserve a break and reward," you giggle, kissing his masked cheek

- You don't see it, but his face is warm and slightly green. If he were mortal, he'd be queasy, but it was clear he was embarrassed and flushed with emotion

- "May I have a real kiss?" he asks shyly, and you chuckle as you move in front of him to kiss him

- The mask was tough, as it protected his mouth and lips. You kiss him where his lips would be, and Syzoth closes his eyes as you wrap your arms around his neck as he places his calloused human hands on your waist

- Syzoth's breathing is pitchy and uneven, almost like he was begging for it. His mask was slick with your saliva, and you pull away

- You giggle, "Is that reward enough, love?" Syzoth hums, thinking a little bit before the grip on your waist is tightened

- "I think I'll need more," he says with a low voice, in the process of removing his mask

- But you stop him

- "Can you... keep it on love?" you ask as you gently push the mask back on his face. You can feel something poking you from underneath, and you turn pink

- Syzoth took you over his shoulder, racing back to his bedroom to relish in his reward

=====================

General Shao - On the Run

- You knock three times on a shabby wooden door, the said door opening with Reiko behind it

- "Is he here?" you ask, pulling down your hood as he ushers you inside

- Reiko nods, "We cannot be here for too long. It won't be long before someone realizes a huge man with horns and a silver mask resides here..."

- You click your tongue angrily, scowling at the fact your beloved warrior would be leaving again

- Broken out of jail by Bi Han, Reiko and General Shao were on the constant run

- Which means constant moving

- Which means practically no chance on meeting your beloved warrior

- The only possible ways would be when they were near your village

- And by near, probably two cantons over, another village to make sure you would not he caught in the crossfire of this manhunt

- That's what you're doing now, meeting your warrior in a village two places over- all for... an unknown amount of time

- "Dragonfly...." a rumbling of a voice comes from the darkness, and you see the shine of metal and deep red eyes

- "My warrior..." your voice cracked as your hands wrapped around his neck. His strong, scaly arms grips your waist and back

- His breathing is deep, trying to remember your smell before you'd have to leave again

- "Dragonfly... How I've missed you..." he said softly, gently swaying in his spot with you in hand

- You look up at him, his silver skull mask covering a good portion of his face. The only things you could see were his eyes and mouth

- "How long are you here for? Reiko did not mention the length in which you'll be here," you caress his metal face, and his hand is on top of yours as he grabs it gently

- "I do not know, my little dragonfly, but what I do know is that you're here, with me," he whispers, voice so low that not even a fly could hear it

- "Then," you say as your other hand is on his covered cheek. "Just hold me here, until you have to go..."

- "Gladly"

- Your mouths mesh together perfectly, like a beautiful symphony. The mask over his face is cool, and the little teeth that cover his mouth just barely your lips as both of your tongues fight for dominance

- His hand go lower, resting on your plush bum as he kneads it like dough. You moan, letting go of his lips quickly as you grind into his hardened member

- "Shall I take off my mask?" he asks, already doing it. You stop him just in time though

- You shake your head vehemently, "No. I want to see the warrior you are, including the mask"

- He nods, and he picks you up in his arms as he walks to the "bedroom" in the back

- He'll show you a warrior, that's certain

=====================

Takeda Takahashi - Nightly Visits

- You stood on the balcony of your apartment in Shibuya (you are my special)

- The night was warm and breezy, and you looked over the scenery of the bright city awaiting a certain black and yellow ninja

- You look down at your watch, sighing, "Late again..."

- As you turn to head inside your flat, you're shocked by the said ninja. He's decked out in his tech armor, and his iconic black and yellow skull mask is on

- Despite his scary look, his eyes are soft and crinkled on the edges, indicating a smile

- "I don't think I'm tardy this time," he teases you, and you practically tackle him in a hug

- He laughs as he catches you, hoisting you up in the air as he swings you side to side. He smells like iron, sweat, and the Japanese wilderness- probably another mission

- "When did you sneak in here, you goof?" you noogie his head, bits of his hair misplaced despite the bandana that pushed it all back

- "A couple of minutes ago. Seriously, did you not hear me? I even cleaned up a plant I knocked over out here..."

- Your head turns to the direction his faces, and you can see the decently cleaned spot of one of your plants that had fallen off its pedestal. You whip your head back at him, glaring and removing your arms from around him

- He was mega strong. Carrying you while your arms were no longer around his neck is not for the faint of muscle

- "Aww... dearest, don't be angry..." he pleads, mask nuzzling into your neck. Despite the hard, shell-like exterior, it made you ticklish as the nose of the mask dug into the sensitive spot you had

- "How can I make it up to you?" he begs, eyes sparkling. How can a guy be so cute and deadly at the same time?

- "A kiss," you say, hands grabbing his face as you give him a peck at the teeth part of his skull mask. He chuckles as he pulls you in again for another

- "Of course, dearest," he says as your lips hit his mask again

- Your lips lick and suck at the place where his lips should be, and it clearly turns Takeda on as you can feel his growing member. You try to wiggle away from it, but his grip on you is strong as he forces you to grind on it

- When you pull away, you're red and hide your embarrassed face in his shoulder. He coos, patting your head as he teases you more.

- "So, am I forgiven now, dearest?" he asks, moving your hips for you as you whine

- "If you show me more moves inside, perhaps you are," you say, matching his energy with half-lidded eyes and a flirtatiously lazy smile

- He rushes inside your flat, slamming the balcony's sliding door shut as he climbs over you on the couch

- Let's just say that he earned more than forgiveness this nightly visit

=====================

GUYS GUYS GUYS MK1 DLC ANNOUNCEMENT AKHISDIJG

okay see y'all in the next fic! love you all for getting me to 50 followers! (at the time of this fics publishing)

[revelboo]

Over it Now

Jazz x Reader- hurt

• Tires screaming on wet asphalt, Jazz rounds a lazy curving stretch of country road, pushing his speed into the redline in frustration. Because it’s his fault and this is the only way he can vent out the poisonous taste of failure. He’s supposed to know everything, be one step ahead of the Decepticons all the time. Optimus won’t say a word, but he has to be disappointed. He’s disappointed in himself. He speeds up, losing himself in reckless anger.

• Elbow deep in soapy water, you hesitate when you hear the crash. It sounds too close and you grab a towel, heading outside. For a moment all you can hear is the sound of frogs in the woods, the world peaceful. Then you see it.

• Breath locking in your lungs, you stare at the distant, fitful glow. People always take the curve too fast, but this lunatic was going so fast his car is down inside the woods well off the road for you to be able to see it from your porch. And then without really thinking, you’re running down the hill, feeling the rain-wet grass soaking your sneakers through.

• You fight your way through the brambles and undergrowth. Even with the swollen moon overhead, you can’t really see much except that glow. Headlights? It can’t be fire, it’s blue. “You okay?” Yelling as you keep pushing forward, you hear something. The sound of groaning metal and a loud crack.

• Fantastic, just a perfect end to a perfect day. Transforming so he can shove against the small tree that is partially on top of him, Jazz groans. But at least it can’t possibly get worse he decides, pushing clear of the tree to send it rolling. A sharp, pained cry is the universe’s response. Because of course it can.

• You’d frozen, staring at the impossibility of the wrecked car unfolding itself into a huge robot and then heaving the downed tree away like it’s a stick. There’s no time dodge, as it rolls into your leg and you crumple with a scream. Tears streaming down your face, you try to drag yourself away as the monstrous robot looms over you, big hands reaching for you. And you black out before the horror looming over you can tear you limb from limb.

• When you come to in the hospital, you lunge and nearly roll yourself right out of the bed as panic sparks through you. Your mind is a confused tangle of fear and pain and monsters. A nurse appears to push you gently, but firmly back down. Apparently your leg is broken and someone dropped you off, dumped you, unconscious at the ER entrance. It’s a miracle an ambulance didn’t run you over. You can only stare at the woman, whole heartedly agreeing with the censure in her voice as she fusses with your IV. What had really happened?

• Certainly not what your brain was insistently screaming happened, because that’s crazy. There hadn’t been a giant robot. You get an Uber to bring you home as soon as they clear you, and your hands won’t stop shaking the whole ride. Pretending you’re not about to have a nervous breakdown when the driver helps you with your new crutches, you struggle to the front door and let yourself in.

• Making your awkward, undignified way through the house, your skin prickles as you pass the French doors in the living room. There’s a car you don’t recognize parked beside yours, a sporty looking thing. White with blue and red stripes that scream not only speed, but money.

• And pity joins the guilt as the little human unlocks the glass doors and limps outside to stare at him. He hasn’t meant to hurt anyone and he’s broken you. Hadn’t even known you were there. Well, this is his fault. He can own up to it. Transforming, he just manages to catch the human in his servos as they keel over. Again. Scrap.

• Groaning, your head lolls back against a hard and warm surface. Something else shifts against you, under you, touching your jaw to gently turn your head. Your world moving like you’re on a boat. Squinting against the throbbing in your head, you stare up at a huge face staring right back at you from way too close. And you scream.

Next

[thehypnone]

Ain't No Hope In Hell

WC: 3k

Relationship: Zephyr/Rain

Tags: Disabled Characters, POTS Rain, Fainting, Semi-Public Bathroom Sex, Transmasc Rain, Non-Binary AFAB Zephyr, Cunnilingus, Minor Gender Dysphoria, Tail Sex

T4T Zephyr and Rain fuck in a disabled mall bathroom after the water ghoul has a fainting spell. That's literally it.

Notes: Commission for @everybodyshusband!!! Also tagging @ominousposting because we talked about these two deserving such action a while ago :3

Read under the cut or on AO3.

The bond that Rain and Zephyr share confuses many. They don’t spend much time together and when they do it’s either to sit in silence for hours or fuck viciously for just as long.

Sometimes one follows the other.

Still, despite it seeming so shallow and even toxic to outsiders, the two ghouls need each other. They understand each other in a way that no other ghoul ever could. Their relationship is in their hearts, minds and souls, not so much in anything that’s on the surface.

And like this, Zephyr and Rain love each other fiercely.

One of the things neither of them would ever be accused of enjoying that they do enjoy when together, is going out. Not to clubs, bars or anything like that; what they like is simple dates like going shopping or to the cinema. 

Today they decided to take a train that leaves every hour from a station a few minutes away from the Abbey and go to a mall. They didn’t have any big shopping plans, just mindless browsing, so to speak. If something would catch either of their eyes they’d get it and be pleased, but they’d be as content to leave with empty hands, only having spent that time together. They can also get some food in there, maybe dessert, too—that’s the thing Zephyr and Rain love about malls; there’s everything there.

Well, maybe they are not very fond of the amount of humans they inevitably encounter every time, but that can be overlooked.

And they are having a great day, indeed, until Rain starts feeling unwell.

“Zeph? Think I’m gonna have a spell,” he mutters, blinking hard as his head sways on his neck. The air ghoul reaches out to grab his wrist and turns it to see his watch. His pulse is going one hundred and fifty beats per minute. “Can we go find a bathroom?”

It definitely isn’t anything more dangerous than his usual episodes, so they should be fine without professional medical assistance, but it needs to be taken care of nonetheless.

“Yeah, of course,” Zephyr says, “it should be just around the corner, are you gonna make it or do you want to switch aids?”

“I–I’ll make it,” the water ghoul breathes shallowly, leaning heavier on his crutch, “just gonna go slow behind you.”

“Alright, puddle. Alright, let’s go.” Zephyr grabs their wheels and rolls on slowly, looking over their shoulder every five seconds to make sure Rain isn’t doing worse. The walk lasts both a second and an eternity, but finally the big accessible bathroom’s door latches behind them and Zephyr only has a second to throw their leather jacket on the floor (of questionable cleanliness) before Rain slides down the wall and passes out.

The air ghoul does not worry, he’ll wake up in a few moments, as always. In the meantime they watch as the other’s glamor slowly slips and rummage through his backpack for a salty snack and some water.

Soon enough Rain opens his eyes.

“There you are, puddle,”  Zephyr chuckles. “Was starting to grow bored.”

“Sure you were,” the water ghoul groans, sitting up slowly. “How long was I out?”

“Whole…” they check their watch in a theatrical manner, “two minutes.”

“Hm.” Rain makes grabby hands when he sees the air ghoul holding his replenishment set ready and they can’t help but shake their head at how adorable he is while still so out of it. He’ll feel better once he munches on a few nuts from his obscenely salty mix, though.

“You think you can get up already?”

“Why?”

“I want you off that nasty floor,” Zephyr scoffs, “and in my lap, preferably.”

Rain rolls his eyes but gets to work on standing up. Thankfully this bathroom actually is accessible—unlike many fakely advertised ones—and there’s a lot of things he can hold on to to stand. It works, albeit the water ghoul still gets dizzy and there’s black spots dancing in front of his eyes. He grabs Zephyr’s hand in the dark and flops down onto their lap. “C’mere, puddle.”

“That is more comfortable,” he sighs, leaning back against the air ghoul’s chest. They place a little kiss on Rain’s neck, just under the gills that escaped his glamor when he was out cold. A pleasant shiver runs down Rain’s spine at the gentle touch and his fins ruffle. “Gimme more, Zeph.”

“Greedy,” they hum but oblige nonetheless, putting their mouth over the water ghoul’s gills and kissing them softly. Rain groans and lets Zephyr appreciate their neck for a little while longer before he can’t take it anymore; he needs their lips on his. He tangles his fingers in the air ghoul’s hair and pulls them away from his neck and up, to kiss him. He slams their lips together and they both moan into it, getting more desperate with every second. They only part to catch a breath.

“Have we ever defiled a disabled mall bathroom before?” Rain asks, panting, as he leans down and rubs his nose up and down Zephyr’s neck, breathing in their fresh summer scent.

“I do not believe that we have,” they answer as they continue to grope the pretty water ghoul in their lap.

He hums thoughtfully, “Do you reckon it is time to do so?”

“Absolutely I do,” Zephyr breathes before tangling their fingers in Rain’s hair and pulling him up to seal their lips in a kiss even more heated than before. Their teeth clank together and they both try to shove their tongue down the other’s throat in a battle for dominance. Even though it’s obvious who is—and is going to stay—in charge. It’s always Zephyr; the only one for whom Rain always subs.

The next time they need to pull away to breathe, Rain notices something on the wall.

“Why was I laying passed out on this filthy floor when there’s a perfect bench right there?” Rain scoffs and throws his hands up dramatically; the princess that he is. There really is a perfect bench right there; albeit a foldable and rather unobvious one.

“You were already going down,” Zephyr shrugs. It is the truth, there was no time, but the truth is also that they didn’t notice it earlier, either. “You know I like to see it.”

“Oh, do you now?” Rain scoffs at the air ghoul’s poor joke. Or a flirting attempt.

“How could I not?” they seem dedicated to making him blush impossibly more, now. “Who wouldn’t like to see a pretty water ghoul between their legs, hm?”

“Are you attempting to make an offer, you old tit?” said water ghoul laughs. Both ghouls are well aware of how the half-affectionate, half-insulting nickname sounds without context and even though it does not get much better with it, the situation improves slightly when one is aware that it originally came from the bird tit and the facts that Zephyr’s feathers in their fully unglamored form are a similar color to that of a tit. The fact that it’s a rather loaded homonym just adds comicality that both Zephyr and Rain love.

“Depends,” the older ghoul shrugs. “Are we in a rush?”

“Not at all. It’s hours until the last train back home leaves.”

“Well, then…Do you want to go down?” Zephyr winks.

“If I can kneel on your jacket.”

“Such a princess, aren’t you? I’ve got a better idea.” Zephyr lightly shoves Rain off of their lap before getting up from their wheelchair and walking over to the bench. They unfold it, look it over and press on it to see if it’s reliable for…more than sitting. It’s rather high, but that will only make the air ghoul’s idea work even better.

“Hop on, puddle,” they pat it in invitation, “today’s my turn to get my mouth on that pretty cunt of yours.”

Rain can’t stop blushing even hotter at that, but he follows the other’s command. As he situates himself on the edge of the bench, Zephyr returns to their wheelchair. They bring it as close to the bench as possible, sit back down and lock the brakes so they don’t just roll away mid eating Rain out.

“As much as I wish I had that skill, I don’t think I can fuck you with my tongue through your jeans,” they tease with a wink, patting his thighs.

“Oh, shut it,” Rain grumbles but does indeed start to fumble with his pants. He drops them down to his ankles but Zephyr tuts and shakes their head. “What?”

“I want my head between your legs, puddle,” they purr, “I need full access.”

Once again the water ghoul mutters something unintelligible under his breath, as if in protest, and yet still obeys Zephyr's every word.

His pants are all but ripped off and thrown across the bathroom to land in the sink—hopefully dry—and the air ghoul wastes no more time. They grab Rain’s thighs, spread them and lean in to nuzzle their cheek against his soft skin. The water ghoul’s lower legs end up hooked over Zephyr’s shoulders and their feet on the back of their chair. A rather solid position, if not for the bench under his ass. His back and hips will hate him for it later, no doubt.

Zephyr throws him one more look before descending onto his cunt and licking a fat stripe up his folds. As always, what they start with is a way to indulge themself more than the other—they love having delicate, wet skin under their tongue. They also love seeing how easy it breaks, but that’s for another time.

The water ghoul instinctively puts one of his hands on Zephyr’s head, digging his fingers into their scalp and pulling on their white as snow hair. They groan against his cunt, but not in protest. Lucifer only knows they grew their hair out just to get it pulled more and, oh, does Rain deliver every time. His tail wraps around Zephyr’s arm when they grip his hip.

Zephyr licks between his folds, up and down to flick the tip of their tongue against his clit and then goes back down to tease around his hole. They prod at it and Rain thinks they’re about to really lick into him when a wave of unpleasantness hits him. He curls in on himself slightly.

“Zeph, wait, uh–” Rain breathes out, tightening the hold he’s got on Zephyr’s hair. They pull away immediately.

“What’s wrong, puddle?” they ask with concern in their voice.

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong, just…” he bites his lip, “don’t put it in today. Please?”

“Yeah, of course,” the air ghoul smiles at him knowingly, with deep understanding. They’ve been there. “I’ll suck your pretty cock instead, what do you say?”

Rain only lets out a rather undignified grunt as a response as he throws his head back against the wall.

“I’m taking that as a yes,” Zephyr smirks and dives back down to take the water ghoul’s t-dick into their mouth. They start out light; swirling their tongue around it and petting it gently with the appendage. Rain is already so lost in it he can only whine and whimper; thankfully the bathroom is all solid walls, or else someone would definitely be calling in an emergency.

He’s pulling on Zephyr’s hair harder and harder with every lick over his cock, losing his mind even more when the air ghoul really starts doing what they’ve promised; sucking him off. Rain all but wails the first time Zephyr hollows their cheeks and sucks at his sensitive t-dick. It’s maddening.

At some point Zephyr grunts and takes one of their hands off of Rain’s thighs to move it down and fumble with their zipper, desperate for some kind of stimulation themself. They manage to open their pants, wiggle a hand inside and rub their own wet cunt. Rain only notices when the air ghoul’s moan vibrates through him.

“Zeph–” he pants, “Zeph, lemme–”

The water ghoul can’t really articulate what he wants, overwhelmed with pleasure. He unwinds his tail from Zephyr’s other arm and shoves it down their pants along with their hand.

“Oh,” they moan as they pull away from Rain’s cunt. They squeeze their eyes and rest their head against the water ghoul’s thighs, breathing heavily as he rubs their clit with the tip of his tail.

“Good?”

“Yeah, get it–puddle, get it in deep,” Zephyr begs and their shaky voice makes Rain whimper.

He obliges—once he collects himself enough to focus—and pushes his tail further down their pants. He finds the air ghoul’s slick hole and pushes in, slowly sliding his tail deeper and deeper until he all but runs out of it.

“Fuck…” they swear under their breath and follow it with a whine and it’s like a song. Zephyr returns to sucking Rain’s dick as if they want to slurp his soul out right through it and the water ghoul himself does his very best to stay focused enough to be able to fuck the other steadily with his tail.

There’s no rhythm to it, but neither of them cares; it’s all a blur of moans and whines and groans as they pleasure each other the way they know the other likes best. That’s the thing about them; they just know things, understand each other like nobody else.

Rain’s eyes cross when the air ghoul trails their wet tongue down, past his cunt to lick at his taint and tease his ass. Just for a moment, to make Rain soaking wet all around; they don’t go further, but Rain moans as they’re taking him apart piece by piece anyway. If Zephyr had access to the base of his tail, too, it’d all be over in seconds. Alas, their position makes it impossible.

There’s something about the softness of the skin in some places that makes Zephyr lose their mind. Another rather peculiar thing about them.

The air ghoul drags a smooth fang up the inside of Rain’s thigh—both a threat and a promise, but only for when they’re back home. They’re both wrecked and the fact that they’re in public escapes their horny minds entirely, it’s the instinct that keeps Zephyr in check.

“Do that…your tail, the–that thing you do…” they groan and even though it’s not much information, Rain knows exactly what to do.

“Lean back, need–need space.” He pulls his tail out of the air ghoul’s cunt and twists it tightly around itself, only leaving the spade out on the bottom. When he slides it back into Zephyr, it’s like a perfectly textured thick dildo with an attachment to stimulate their clit. Rain presses the flat tip of his tail against it and the air ghoul folds in on themself in pleasure.

“Fuck, that’s good,” they moan and start rolling their hips slightly, riding Rain’s tail as much as possible as they return to the task at hand; the delicious, soaking wet water ghoul cunt right in front of their face. And making it even wetter.

It won’t take much more and they both know it; it’s just a minute after Zephyr puts their mouth on Rain’s cock that he cries out a warning, “Close…”

“Uh-huh,” Zephyr hums in acknowledgement and nods slightly. The water ghoul can only assume it means they are nearing their climax, too. Still, the air ghoul is focused solely on Rain and making him cum his brains out. They double down their efforts and the noises falling from rain’s lips gain in volume.

“Yes, yes, yes–I’m–c–cumming, Zeph, oh,” he moans—the loudest and most wrecked of them all—and the air ghoul can feel slick gushing out of him to drip down their chin and onto the godforsaken bench. Rain’s entire body goes rigid as waves of his orgasm wash over him; including his tail. The makeshift dildo becomes impossibly thicker inside them and Zephyr groans in a nearly pained manner as they’re thrown over the edge, too.

Rain sags forward, falling face first into Zephyr’s chest as they lean back in their wheelchair. The both of them breathe heavily for a longer while, slowly coming down from their highs.

“I hate you, you old tit,” the water ghoul murmurs at some point, making Zephyr laugh.

“I love you, too, puddle,” they reply with a grin, patting his back.

Once they deem themselves composed enough again, they get up to clean the mess that they’ve made of each other. Putting both their glamors back in place and adjusting their clothes and hair so as to not scream with their looks about what they’ve been up to in that bathroom, they get ready to go.

“I don’t even want to know for how long we’ve been blocking this bathroom,” Rain grunts, a little disappointed in himself. 

“Don’t worry, puddle,” Zephyr reaches out to pat his hip reassuringly, “it’s not a busy day and I’ve seen another one not so far from here, I’m sure we didn’t cause anyone inconvenience.”

The water ghoul hums in acknowledgement and finally unlocks the door again. To his great relief there isn’t anyone waiting. They leave the bathroom and decide to visit one more shop that was on their agenda; Rain feels alright now and one more won’t hurt anyone. After that they check potential trains that could take them back to the Abbey and start making their way to the station.

“We should have a list,” Zephyr proposes at some point.

“Of what?” Rain asks, genuinely curious.

“Places we defiled,” the older ghoul clarifies and Rain snorts out a laugh, “and places we have yet to defile.”

“I’m down,” he giggles under his breath, “but only if we write it down on a piece of paper that I can hang on the fridge in the den.”

“You got it, puddle,” Zephyr grins. “My requirement is that we put Primo’s closet at the very top of the been there, done that part.”

“Ah…” Rain sighs dreamily, “that was a glorious time, indeed, dear Zephyr.”

“Absolutely it was, dear Rain,” the air ghoul agrees. “Whose next, Terzo or Copia’s?”

“Secondo’s. Let’s go chronologically.”

“I love your brain, puddle.”

[poedays]

Little things about my listeners because why not:

- Darlin likes to run around in the rain in their wolf form

- Lovely had brown eyes before turning

- Sweetheart has white tattoos under their eyes and on their collarbone which are seen as a traditional ‘stealth’ symbols

- Dear needs to use crutches sometimes because they have bad knees (I’m projecting)

- Starlight’s eyes and hair turned white after they were shot out from the Meridian

- Asset loves loose fitting clothing and will cut their clothes to make them hang off them in weird shapes

- Freelancer collects pins and badges

- Angel makes their own jewellery

- Warden has dull purple skin and their eyes glow in the dark

- Babe has 4A type hair and Asher loves to wash it for them

- Smartass used to do gymnastics as a kid

- Sunshine is a lifeguard

- Honey is partially deaf in their left ear (they played violin throughout high school)

[bestreadfanfic]

Landscapes / Part 2

Summary: Johnny and Simon are both done with their military service and now live in the English countryside. However, Johnny's time in the military left him disabled and with a lot of unresolved issues. You and your boyfriend moved into their sleepy town and Johnny just knows you need saving.

Pairings: Ghoap x reader

Warnings: Domestic abuse, Soap has PTSD, Violence

A/N: I had a little bit of writer's block. This chapter is a bit sad.

You hated the rain. Not the rain itself but what it represented. Rain meant that you were stuck inside. Most people wouldn't mind staying inside for a few hours. Truthfully you wouldn't either. The problem wasn’t being inside, it was who you were inside with.

You loved your boyfriend. Unfortunately, this love blinded you. Causing you to cut off your friends  and family for the sake of your ‘soulmate.’ That’s what he called himself at least. According to him the two of you were destined for each other.

You weren’t stupid though. The relationship wasn’t healthy and you knew that you needed to leave. It’s not like you didn’t try. Your escape attempt was the reason why you ended up in this small isolated town. 

But, there was still hope. You were saving what little money you could. Little by little. He wouldn’t let you have a job, so money was hard to come back. 

Right now he's more bearable than he usually is. Not his mouth. You doubt he could even go half an hour without spewing verbal abuse towards someone if his life counted on it. It didn’t matter though you long since learned to tune him out. 

The difference was that he couldn’t get up. The man who lived down the road had beaten your boyfriend to a pulp. He deserved it. Actually, he deserved a lot more. 

For some reason, your boyfriend seemed to hate them. You never spoke to either one of them. However, every morning the one with the crutches would take a walk past your house. 

Johnny.

That’s what your boyfriend called him. Well, your boyfriend called him a lot of things. But you were pretty sure that Johnny was his name. Unless his parents were cruel enough to name their child any of the other things that your boyfriend called him.

You don’t know the name of the other guy. Your boyfriend called him Ghost. You doubted that it was actually his name, but your boyfriend liked to play mind games. However, right now wasn’t the time to be caught up over some stranger’s name. 

“If you to go outside so bad, then just go” 

Your shoulders stiffened at the sound of his voice. You knew what he wanted. He wanted you to beg. Beg to stay inside and try your hardest to convince that you wouldn't even dare to think about leaving. But that was a lie.

Opening your mouth you were about to begin your apologies. Words that just seemed to spew out of your mouth like vomit. However, to both of your surprise, the words refused to come out. 

His eyebrows furrowed when you remained quiet. You knew he wouldn't get up. Ghost had beaten him so badly that he had spent the whole day on the couch complaining. He had two black eyes and one eye was completely swollen shut. 

He wanted to go to the cops right after they had left, but you managed to convince him not to. After all, he was the one who put his hands on Johnny first. The threat of legal trouble was enough for him to drop the subject. 

“Out! Out! Get out of my house!” He screamed at the top of his lungs. You hoped he would lose his voice. Maybe then he would shut up. It was pointless to argue with him right now. When he starts screaming like this there’s nothing that you can do to stop him. 

Rushing to the front door you quickly exited the house. The sound of the rain muffled his screaming. You had forgotten both your jacket and umbrella resulting in your clothes quickly becoming completely soaked. 

It wasn’t all bad though. You had secretly been helping the old lady who ran the town’s bakery and at the end of every week she would give you 30 pounds. It wasn’t much but you couldn’t complain. You had already gotten the money for the week but didn’t have the chance to go to the bank to deposit it. 

Normally you would wait until he went off to work. However, with his face the way it was you were sure that he was going to stay home. 

The bank doesn’t open till 1 pm today, so you had to find out what to do for an hour. Shaking your head you begin walking. You were already wet so no point in hiding from the rain. Eventually, you settled for sitting on the giant rock.

The island was surrounded by water. It had large fields that were filled with all sorts of flowers. There were lots of hills and giant rocks scattered in these fields as well. It wasn’t uncommon to see cows, sheep, horses, and other types of farm animals just roaming around. 

You take a deep breath taking in the island's beauty. Under any other circumstances, you would be thrilled to live here. Maybe one day you can settle on an island similar to this one. One that’s far far away from him.

Suddenly the rain stopped. 

Well, it was still raining, however the droplets stopped hitting you. Looking up you realize that someone was holding an umbrella above you. Tilting your head you were shocked to see that the person had a pair of crutches under their arms. 

“Johnny?”

[megalony]

Is It Bad?

This is an Eddie Diaz imagine requested by Anon, I really enjoyed writing this one I hope everyone likes it.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefanthefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn  @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway

Masterlist

Summary: Chris has a bad day when he can't keep his routines, but things get worse when he and (Y/n) get in a car crash and the 118 don't know Eddie has a family.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Mummy…"

Turning her head, (Y/n) looked back over at Christopher but the smile on her face started to fade when she saw the frown setting into his brows and the slight slope of his lips.

"What's wrong baby?" She turned the trolley round and slowly headed over to him.

Instead of answering, Chris reached out and patted his hand against the bare shelf on his left and with each tap, his effort got stronger until he was slamming his fingers down on the shelf and making a thudding noise that echoed through the shop. (Y/n) let go of the trolley and kneeled down in front of him to see what the problem was but she sucked in a deep breath when she realised what was missing from the shelf.

Cookies.

Pushing up, (Y/n) bounced on her heels and scanned the rest of the shelves in case they had been moved higher up and Chris simply couldn't find the brand he wanted. He liked the thin baked cookies with animal shapes baked into the underside and chocolate on top. They came in a dark purple packet that was hard to miss.

They always bought three packets every Friday to last him the week, he took a few in his pack up to school and always demolished a full pack on a Friday night when they watched Thomas the Tank Engine movie. The same movie every Friday, the same snacks and the same pyjamas and blanket.

"Excuse me, do you know where the animal snaps are?"

The elderly lady in front of (Y/n) leaned back to see where she was pointing before she clicked her tongue and shook her head.

"Sorry, we don't sell those anymore."

"Fuck,"

(Y/n) bit her tongue and turned back round to Chris. How could they not make those anymore? They were specific, they were this store's home brand cookies, that was the whole reason they did their weekly shop at this store every Friday, without fail. Come rain or shine, (Y/n) and Chris were here after he finished school and those cookies were always in the trolley.

"Uh, we'll get some other ones for now and I'll Google and see if anywhere else sells them and we can go somewhere else." She didn't even manage to get her phone out her pocket before Chris shook his head.

He slipped his arms out of his crutches, let them drop to the floor and then flopped down until he was sat on the polished floor with his head against the shelf and his arms around his chest.

Oh dear.

It wasn't as if (Y/n) could buy similar cookies and replace the packaging with the brand Chris was used to. He would taste the difference, he had a specific pallet like (Y/n) did, they could both tell when they didn't have sugar in their coke or when the crisps were the cheap brand or not the specific store brand they were used to.

Chris was a stickler for routine, it kept him content and relaxed, they helped shape and control his life. Fridays were for shopping and cookies and the same movie that he could watch five times over and not be bored of.

He didn't want different cookies or a different snack for a Friday night. He didn't want a similar brand that looked different and tasted tangy with bittersweet chocolate.

"Baby, let's finish the shopping and we can look across town for them," (Y/n) went down on her knees in front of him and reached out to him but she knew they weren't going to get finished here.

"Home."

"Now baby-"

"Home. Home. Home!" Chris reached out for whatever was on the shelf next to him and grabbed a bag of flour from the bottom shelf. It was a bit heavy for him but he moved quicker than (Y/n) anticipated and managed to throw it between his legs and bash his hands down on it like he was playing the drums. A gust of flour spread through the air around them and a powder of white settled down on (Y/n)'s face until she had to close her eyes and cough to get a clear breath.

The flour settled on Chris's glasses and covered his hands before he felt (Y/n) hoist him up by his underarms and lift him from the floor.

She juggled Chris in her left arm despite how heavy he was starting to get, and grabbed both crutches with her free hand and moved back to the trolley. It was usually Eddie who would carry Chris in and out of the car and pick him up if he got upset or had a meltdown. Despite the meltdowns Chris would have, he always stopped immediately if he was comforted, a cuddle or being carried always stopped him.

Especially if it was Eddie holding him.

"Okay baby, we'll go home."

(Y/n) sat him on the trolley handlebar, shoved his crutches in the trolley and whispered a quiet 'sorry' to the lady who was already smiling and shaking her head politely.

He left his legs swinging between them but kept his arms tightly bound around (Y/n)'s neck and his face buried in her chest so she had to lean over the trolley while she pushed it towards the checkout. They barely had half the things on their list. She would have to come back tomorrow and see if Eddie's Abuela would have Chris for an hour. If the shopping wasn't done on a Friday, Chris wouldn't go unless it was to the toy shop.

Her back started to burn and ache when they reached the checkout and Chris still wouldn't let go of her. (Y/n) had to carry him on her hip as long as she could while leaning in the trolley and putting the items on the checkout. When her back and arm started to strain, (Y/n) set Chris down on his feet and let him coil his arms around her waist instead and burrow into her side.

"Home. Is daddy home?"

(Y/n) was relieved Chris had said something a little more than home when they were back outside the car. He was sat back on the trolley, arms around her neck and his face so close to hers she had to kiss his nose to try cheer him up.

"He won't be home yet baby, but when we get back you can ring him and talk to him, how's that sound?"

"Hm." He let (Y/n) lift him him up and put him in his car seat in the back of the car but he wouldn't unwind his arms from her neck. "No, mummy, no." He started to whine in her ear until he was almost crying and his arms were shaking from how tight he was holding her against his chest.

"Christopher," Her warning tone was enough to make him let go and he let her strap him in.

His head fell against the headrest and he brought his hand up to his mouth so he could bite down on his thumb. There was no trace of his usual bright smile on his lips and he closed his eyes and burrowed into his seat.

It was going to be a long day.

***

"You all know the drill, spread out, anyone who can walk or with minimal injuries, send them to the medics. Anyone you can't free yourself, shout out. Go."

They all knew where they needed to divert to. Eddie and Hen were already getting a woman out of her car on the outskirts of the crash. Chimney was with another medic helping anyone who could freely get out of their vehicles and make their way to assistance. And Bobby was heading down with Buck towards the cars that were more damaged, wedged in the middle of the mess.

Reaching a dark red fiesta, Buck narrowed his eyes and climbed over the bonnet to reach the driver's side. The back of the car was crumpled up against the divider between the motorway and van had crashed into the passenger side and wedged it into a corner.

"Miss? Fire and rescue, can you hear me?"

Buck sucked in a deep breath when he opened the door and it fell off its hinges, crashing down to the floor. He bent down and leaned on the edge of the car but he could see immediately that the driver was unconscious.

Her hair was fanned across her face, her chin was tilted down into her chest and she was slumped to the left. Buck tried to look for injuries but the most pressing one he could see was her right leg. It was broken so badly the bone was sticking out halfway down beneath her knee.

"Mummy!"

A shiver bolted down Evan's spine and he grabbed the roof to steady himself. He hadn't thought to look in the back.

A little boy, roughly seven or eight, was sat in a car seat behind the passenger seat. He had a cut to his brow, he was trembling, his glasses were hanging around his neck on red string and he was biting his thumb like he was about to chomp through it.

"Hey there, my name's Buck I'm a fireman. Can you tell me mummy's name?"

"Mummy… I want mummy." He reached his arm out towards the driver's seat and made a fist and a grabbing motion to try and reach her but the seatbelt was strapped too tight and he couldn't get it off.

"Can you tell me your name?"

"Christopher."

"Good lad, stay put and I'm gonna get you and mummy out of here, alright? Are you hurt?"

When Chris shook his head, Buck managed a smile before he leaned over the driver and reached for her bag that was still resting on the passenger seat. He could see her eyes fluttering behind her eyelids, he needed a name and address to give the hospital when they got her transferred and helped out. Someone would have to come and take Christopher when they got to hospital or they would have to call social services for him.

He found her purse quickly and rummaged around for her driver's license but when he read her name, all the blood drained down to his feet and pins and needles coursed through his legs.

Oh God.

"Cap… Cap I need assistance, badly." His hand shook around the radio, he couldn't say anything else lest Eddie heard him through the radio and got panicked. He was busy helping someone with Hen, they couldn't risk panicking him until he had sorted his patient. "Just gonna put this on your neck (Y/n)," Buck whispered quietly and grabbed a neck brace from his bag.

He carefully tilted her head back and clipped the brace around her neck to keep her head in place. He didn't know what kind of spinal or nerve injuries she might have sustained and he didn't want to give her any further pain. It was a good sign that she groaned when he moved her though, she was coming back round.

"Buck, what have you got?" Bobby knelt down near the passenger door but when he noticed the little boy in the back, he quickly moved to jam open the back door.

"Cap, it's uh… her name is (Y/n) Diaz… Eddie never said he was married."

Buck wasn't sure if he was getting the wrong assumption, she could still be Mrs Diaz and be Eddie's sister. Maybe she kept her last name when she got married. Eddie did have three sisters after all. Or she could be a cousin. Eddie never said anything about going home to a family after work, he didn't mention having a child waiting at home for him. Eddie never indulged about a family and Buck told him everything about his life.

"You must be Christopher, I'm Bobby, I work with your dad. Can I check you over and get you out of here?"

Bobby dared to glance his eyes across at Buck whose face fell and his jaw dropped. Eddie really had hid a whole other life from him- from the rest of the team. The only one Eddie told was Bobby because he had to divulge personal information when he had the job interview. He had to tell Bobby that he had a wife and son at home and if his son had a disability, in case he ever had to rush off shift and go to the hospital or take a personal phone call on shift.

"Daddy, I want daddy." Christopher's words were mumbled around his thumb that he wouldn't stop biting.

"I'll take you to your dad, don't worry. Eddie, when you get a second come over to the red Fiesta near the front pile up please."

"On my way."

Bobby reached over and wiggled the seat buckle hard enough to wrench it free and let Chris breathe better. He had a small cut on his chest from where it had pinned into his skin and glued him to his seat. There was a cut on his head and he pointed down to his foot but when Bobby checked, it wasn't broken or fractured. Most likely sprained.

The car seat had saved him from most of the impact.

"Okay, come here." Bobby carefully picked him up and lifted him out of the car but when he turned round, he held his breath.

'Here we go.'

The medic bag in Eddie's hand dropped down to his feet and he stumbled back a pace until he felt Hen's hand on his back and her worried whispers in his ear asking what was wrong. He thought Bobby saying a red fiesta was a bit unnerving; it was the same car as (Y/n)'s.

But the moment his eyes latched onto his captain, he felt like his world had turned upside down.

He knew that mop of brown curls anywhere and those legs that were kicking and swinging like he always did when he got picked up and carried around. That was his little boy.

"Christopher? Oh God, Chris! I'm here bud I'm here!"

Eddie pulled away from Hen and weaved through the cars towards his son who started to scream. His arms started to wave and when Bobby put him down, his voice overtook the sound of the car horns and the raised voices begging for help. All Eddie could hear was his boy screaming his name and waving his arms out towards him.

"Daddy!"

"I'm here, oh bud I've got you." Tears fell down Eddie's face when his arms looped around his son and he lifted him from the floor. He couldn't breathe when Chris snapped his arms so tightly around his neck and burrowed his face into his neck.

He cupped the back of Chris's head, tangling his fingers in his curls as he kissed the side of his head repeatedly.

"Are you alright?"

"Foot hurts… mummy won't wake up. No cookies in shop, you take us home now. Daddy I wanna go home." There was too much rattling around in Chris's head and he couldn't cope. His foot was aching, his mum wouldn't answer him when he cried out for her. They didn't have cookies in the shop so tonight's movie night was now ruined. And then the car started to spin and everyone was crying.

But Eddie was here now. Eddie could take them both home and look after them.

Eddie's hand tangled tighter into Chris's curls and he got closer to the passenger side of the car and peered down. (Y/n) was crying. She was awake now and she was sobbing her heart out. Eddie had to get her out of there, he had to get them both to the hospital and look after them.

"Chris, buddy can you wait here with Bobby for me so I can get mummy out?"

Bobby nodded and held his arms out again but Chris wouldn't have it. His arms stayed tight around Eddie's neck and he started to whimper and cry. He wasn't leaving either of his parents, he was staying right where he was in Eddie's arms.

"You take us home. Now. Home-"

"Buddy I can't take you home, I have to get mummy out she's hurt."

"Home!"

Eddie tipped his head back as if to try and force the tears into the back of his head and his lips pressed into a thin line when Chris started to cry. His hands bashed down on the back of Eddie's chest and shoulders and his legs started to swing and hit out at his legs and knees so much Chris himself cried from the pain it caused in his sprained foot.

"Buddy please-"

"Home-"

"Christopher Diaz!" The moment the name passed through his lips, Chris stopped kicking out and gasped when Eddie dropped down to his knees onto the tarmac.

Huffs, sniffs and bubbling cries passed through Chris's lips but he loosened his arms around Eddie's neck and tilted his head down to burrow his face into Eddie's florescent jacket that smelled of dirt and smoke. A smell he always associated with his dad from this job he'd had for the past eight months.

"I promise, when I get mummy out and safe, I will not let either of you out of my sight. And when mummy is okay, I will take you home and we will sort everything out. I will make it better, I always do. Now you stay with Bobby, understand?"

With a lasting kiss to Chris's temple, Eddie picked him back up and let Bobby take hold of him and set him on his hip. Bobby stood off to the side so Chris could still see his parents but he wasn't close enough to see the damage or get too frightened. The little boy burrowed his head against Bobby's and started to pat his chest rhythmically to calm himself down.

Eddie wasted no time in climbing into the passenger seat but when he looked across at Buck, he could see something flare in his eyes. Maybe he should have told the team- or at least Buck, about his family.

But he didn't like mixing work and personal life and he never thought he would be on scene where his family had been in a car crash.

"Mi amor, it's me, how we doing?"

"Eddie! God, baby… where's Chris?" (Y/n) managed to open her eyes and when the tears fell down her face, she craned her eyes to the left to look at her husband. It was a Godsend to hear his voice. She had no idea who the other man next to her was, the only person on the team she had spoken to before was Bobby. But the other lad next to her seemed very concerned which was sweet.

"He's fine, Cap's got him, just a bad foot that's it." Eddie kissed her temple and reached down to hold her hand. "This is Buck, we're gonna get you out…" Eddie looked over at Buck but when he glanced down at (Y/n)'s leg, Eddie could feel bile rising in his throat.

"(Y/n), I'm going to put a strap around your thigh to restrict the bleeding, then we can get you on a stretcher and out of here, alright?"

"W-what's wrong with my leg? Baby, i-is it bad?"

(Y/n) tried to look at Eddie but she couldn't move her head due to the neck brace she had woken up with. Everything ached and burned but both of her legs felt they were on fire. What was wrong with her leg? Has she broken it or got a deep gash that was bleeding out? It didn't feel like her leg was hanging off or in bad shape.

Moving over, Eddie leaned across (Y/n) with one hand on the seat and the other moved to cup her face so he was in her line of sight. His thumb brushed over her cheek and he managed a smile before he leaned over and gently pecked her lips.

"You've broken it, mi amor but we can get it fixed up. Stay really still so Buck can strap it."

(Y/n) brought her hand up to grab Eddie's wrist and she nodded, keeping her eyes on him when she felt Buck shuffle a small plastic strap beneath her thigh. Her teeth gritted together and she gasped when he pulled it tight and popped the pin in. She had to be bleeding for them to cut off her blood supply.

"I'm gonna round the other side so we can get you out," He kissed her again before he scrambled out of the car. They had to move her now, her leg was in bad shape and Eddie could feel the car overheating. It was a trap ready to blow.

Her hand reached up to rub her temple, her head felt like it was splitting and her back was burning. She tried to push forward to relieve the pain in her back but when she heard Buck mutter no and his hands grabbed her shoulders, she looked down.

"Eddie!" His name screamed from her lips and she pushed back in the chair, moving her hands to grip her thigh like she was going to magically fix it. Another tortured scream flew past her lips before a gurgling cry errupted and she slammed her head against the headrest. "Eddie, ooh fuck, Eddie-"

Her bone was sticking out. Her trouser leg was no longer dark blue, it was a horrid shade of crimson and a sprig of bone was punctured out along with a torn piece of muscle that made (Y/n) almost throw up.

She couldn't lose her leg. Christopher needed her, she had to drive, they had their routines, their walks and their physio they did in the park to keep him up and active. She carried her boy around when he needed her, she couldn't lose her leg. If they saved it, how long would she have to be in a cast? She couldn't look after Chris if she was on crutches too or God forbid, she had to be in a wheelchair. He was going to be petrified enough after this whole ordeal.

Buck moved out the way and took Eddie's place in the passenger seat so Eddie could crouch beside his wife.

his hands moved to cup (Y/n)'s face and he took a very deep, slow breath and managed a smile to try and calm her down. He couldn't have her panicking on him now, they had to get her out.

"Mi amor, shh. You're gonna be fine, we can fix this. I'm gonna spin you round and Buck will get your legs, and we'll lift you out of here. Christopher is waiting for us, come on mi amor you got this." He kissed her head, peppered his lips across her cheek and down her jaw until she nodded in agreement with him.

"Here we go (Y/n), on three."

Buck kneeled up on the chair and leaned over, carefully holding her knees in place while Eddie twisted her round so her back was flush up against his chest. His hands slipped under her arms and he gripped her flesh comfortingly tight and nodded over at Buck.

"One, two, three."

Eddie took her weight on his chest and started shuffling back while Buck climbed over the seat, trailing his hands beneath (Y/n)'s legs to hold her ankles and elevate her legs.

The scream (Y/n) let out made Eddie tip his head back and he held his breath to try and compose himself. He felt her hands reaching back to grip his biceps and ground herself while the boys carried her to the stretcher Hen was waiting with.

"Baby d-don't go… p-please get Chris,"

"I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere." He smothered her temple with a kiss and held her hand until they got near the ambulance Bobby had moved over to. When they were close enough, Eddie reached his free arm out and looped it around Chris's waist and sat him on his hip. "I've got you both, you're safe. I'm here."

"Daddy," Chris wrapped his arms around Eddie's neck when they were in the ambulance and he perched on his dad's lap. He could feel his dad kissing his hair and his mum rubbing her hand up and down his leg, both of them doing their best to keep him calm and stable.

They would be okay.

[littlestarbigsky]

having thoughts and feelings abt sodapop curtis and his knee injury from his rodeo days :):

- guys he was SO scared when it happened :((

- it happened when he got bucked off a horse and when you fall you’re supposed to get the hell out of there so you don’t,, yanno,, die. and he tried to push himself up and run but his knee just gave out under him and he was just curled up on the ground genuinely so scared that he was gonna die

- he was pretty much a crying mess on the ground with his parents and pony and darry crowding around him and he’s just apologizing bc he knows that he’s hurt really bad and that they don’t really have the money for what he’s gonna need

- he tore his acl, not badly enough to need surgery, but they know he can’t safely compete in a rodeo probably ever again

- and golly that’s a gut punch for him bc i don’t think he’d figured out that he liked cars yet, and rodeos were the one thing he was really good at, he hadn’t realistically thought of it as a career, but working with horses was the only thing he’d ever wanted to do

- he’s in the hospital for a while that day, like i’m gonna say it was probably like 7-8 hours in the emergency room before they gave him some crutches and a splint and sent them home

- he is very okay with his mama babying him while he’s there tho lol he’s got mama helping him drink his juice box and fluffing up his pillows every two seconds. she doesn’t mind ofc bc she just feels so bad that she won’t be able to give him the best care (they really couldn’t afford surgery even if he needed it, and they def can’t send him to physical therapy)

- bro was NOT cut out to be on bedrest while his knee is healing he literally can not sit still for more than 5 minutes and he just gets bored with all the stuff they do to keep him occupied (cartoons, board games, mama even tries to teach him to crochet, which goes abt as well as you’d expect)

- unfortunately all this means his knee never really heals right, and even if it did it’s pretty normal to have residual pain after an injury like that

- he has a little limp when it gets cold (heavy on this one- dry, cold, air is not good for bad joints)

- he also 100% does that thing where he’ll be on the couch complaining abt his knee hurting and darry will ask if he’s okay and soda will just say something like, “yeah, it’s gonna rain tomorrow, though.” (side note: that’s a real thing !!! it has to do with moisture changes in the air)

- i also think that if he’s super emotional (which happens a lot lol) his knee will act up (ik it doesn’t make a whole lot of sense but i’ve had this happen, i *think* it has something to do with muscle tension),, he could barely walk after their parents died and he was wincing the whole week pony was missing

- whenever there was a rumble before soda was healed, darry literally had to find someone to babysit him and make sure he didn’t try to sneak out and fight with them

- heat works wonders on bad joints so they have like four of those microwaveable heating packs

i might cook up a fic about this tbh i’m having a pain flare w my knees and hips rn and i can’t do anything lol

[zarnzarn]

Part four (+FOUR ASKS FUCK YEAH) of the reverse odyssey au! all tagged on the blog.

1/2/3/4

||

Penelope takes a shaky breath and waves off the maid trying to light one of the lamps. The maid bows nervously and leaves the room, bumping into the fake door with a squeak before running off.

Must be new. Who's hiring them, though?

A rustling noise next to her pulls her attention away and she turns to watch Polites nod gravely to her and then sink down at her feet, petting Argos. If she'd had energy, she'd raise an eyebrow, but all she can think of is how Odysseus would have teasingly asked her why she wasn't chiding Polites for looking so unkempt and miserable with his wooden leg unpolished and crutches uncared for, in his roundabout, carefree way of being worried. Already Eurylochus had run himself into the ground and taken so ill he could barely speak. She'd have to keep a careful eye on them both.

In her most secret, private moments, Penelope remembers Anticlea's muttered words about Athena teaching Odysseus her emotional repression along with the battle strategies, and has to tamp down on a smile desperately in case an owl is nearby.

Although, on the topic of Athena.

Penelope looks out at the sea, grimacing at the green algae now covering the waters. It was poisoning the fish, that much was for sure, making them float to the surface in droves of corpses, a clear insult to the water god- and only Athena with her cunning would be able to cause such widespread damage.

On one hand, it was glorious to see how much the goddess loved her husband, no matter if her infamous pride was probably the larger reason why she had poisoned the oceans so. It was still in part for Odysseus' curse that the waters now found themselves under a brutal, uncaring attack, becoming more filthy by the day, and something in Penelope's chest that was still a nymph despite all her effort to rid herself of it purred in satisfaction.

On the other hand. How long till they ran out of fish?

Queen Anticlea, bless Hestia, was the descendant of a farmer, and had spent much of her time as queen overseeing the grain of their kingdom and bullying them all into establishing good agriculture- but the rains had been bleak and old Leartes had not remembered to barter for a freshwater supply this year, so they ran the chance of running slim, especially with six hundred men now returned.

The heavy doors creak open and Penelope comes back to herself. A problem for later.

"Good evening, everyone!" A voice calls from beyond, nasal and cheerful, and they all rise.

Ctimene is a tall woman, thin and sleek, with a chiton bare of patterns but made of the finest cloth. What comes to mind since the day Penelope first laid eyes on her is sharp, from her hairstyle to her amber eyes, someone who wears a smile as warm as her brother's but doesn't expect you to believe in it like he does- doesn't need you to, because she's going to get her way regardless.

She'd left Ithaka a few months after Penelope arrived, coming home sporadically from where Penelope assumes she's been happily terrorizing Same, but she remembers how her husband's sister is.

That she and Odysseus did not kill each other in the womb itself is something of a minor miracle, is the general consensus amongst everyone.

"Princess Ctimene," Penelope says, bowing.

"Queen is what your missive said," She replies before Penelope can speak further. Her eyes narrow and Penelope carefully shows no sign of her impending headache- Hermes' eyes are not to be looked upon, and his children share his preference- and holds the gaze calmly. Ctimene throws her hair over her shoulder with a toss of her head. "So, did my idiot brother finally run out of luck?"

Penelope blinks and- actually looks. Ctimene is a stone tower, but Penelope can suddenly see the cracks- a trembling lip, the flash of agonized grief in her eyes, fingernails clenched into her own palm.

"No!" She blurts out, stumbling down the stairs to take her hand. "No, he's not- he is not lost to us, sister, I should have written that before."

"What does that mean?" Ctimene's eyes narrow, as she pulls herself up, emotion hidden once again. "Speak plainly, Pen."

Pen hits her straight in the chest, stealing her breath from her for a moment. It has been so long since her Helen and Clymenestra and Iphitimene have called her that, and for Ctimene to do so so easily, even though they barely know each other-

She takes in a shaky breath and holds herself back high. "Poseidon has- cursed Odysseus, for blinding his son instead of killing him. His men were allowed to return in exchange, but he swims the seas as a strange creature now, with the tail of a fish, unable to speak to us; we spent the last year on the seas, looking for him, but were taken away by bad luck and bad timing just as we reached him and-"

"What are you talking about?" Ctimene interrupts incredulous, unfolding her arms to finally let her body language show. "What? Poseidon? How in Gaia's name did that fool- I thought he was being held hostage by Troy or something! Cursed?"

Penelope tries not to let her resolve waver. Ten years of only letters and missives have taken their toll, as much as she was spitefully determined to not let them; to have to deal with the injustice now that the war was not yet over for her, that there was still a fight left before she had her husband in her arms again, her darling, trickster husband who she spent every morning missing, every moment she was alone aching for-

Her husband, who had been at her fingertips, who had looked at her for that one brief moment with recognition and joy so bright and loving and a smile so wide at her presence that her final image of him now was blurred because of her tears-

Her husband, who had been swept away. Whom she had failed.

"Yes," She replies. "But during our search- we were blessed... by the presence of Lady Athena herself."

"Let me guess," Ctimene interrupts, lips quirking in amusement. The men around her frown and look at each other with disbelief as she has no reaction to the news, as if gods appeared to mortals as often as the goats bleated. "She lectured you all for running off without a plan and dragged you back like disobedient children."

Penelope's mouth opens and closes, with no idea what to say. She feels her aunt's paranoia about the wrath of the gods grip her and she has to actively fight the urge to shake this woman and tell her to keep her mouth shut, but- was that not... technically what had happened?

"I would not put it that way," She manages, hoping that no one is around to hear. "Athena's counsel is unparalleled-"

"Do not bother," Athena says next to her, and several people shout and fall to the floor, trembling. Penelope herself feels her heart drop to the ground in fear. "You might convince a mountain to move aside, before you get this insolent woman to show some respect to me. Hello, Ctimene."

"Hi, Athena," Ctimene straightens up, hands behind her back as she grins, suddenly looking much more younger and childish. "Where have you been? You haven't come to meet me in ages!"

"On the battlefields of Troy," Athena says dryly. By someone's grace, she is not yet angry; although from the pieces Penelope is putting together, her husband's mentorship seems to be much less hands-off than she'd assumed it was; and she can describe Odysseus as many things but significantly not someone you can spend a lot of time with without having a high tolerance to annoyance.

That would give Ctimene some leeway with her casualness, but she really needed to stop talking before Athena grew cross with them as well-

Ctimene pouts, moving closer. "That's no excuse," She insists, giving half the people in the room so much stress that Penelope thinks they'll keel over in a faint, and the other half some new resignation to dying violently. "I want your wisdom too!"

Athena- laughs?

"When will you ever change, weasel?" She says, lips twisted in amusement.

"Never," Ctimene says, warmer than Penelope's ever heard her, before straightening up and tilting her chin up. "So. You want me to take the throne."

"Yes." Penelope steps in, heart pounding nervously. Talking in front of Athena with a clear mind was wracking, but Ctimene's familiarity gives her confidence enough to step in. She knows politics. She had ruled Ithaka for ten years. She is a princess of Sparta and the best statesperson of her lands, and she must believe in herself for others to believe in her. "I have written up a contract-"

"None is needed," Ctimene interrupts, waving a hand dismissively. Penelope is stunned silent for a moment, letting the other woman turn away to comment on the worn curtains- then her blood boils. This- This absolute-

It takes every inch of her will to calm herself down and not show any sign of her anger in front of all the people looking on. It is a skill honed well from arguing her father and uncle in court, but in front of Athena it feels scorchingly worse, unbelievable mortification.

"May I ask why?" Penelope says, voice cold.

Ctimene turns in surprise, eyes flicking to the side and back. "I do not contract with family," She says, voice slightly smaller, and all the anger goes rushing back out of Penelope, leaving both embarassment and relief in its wake. "I have no designs to the throne of Ithaka, after all. But if you want, I could."

"Please," Penelope inclines her head, walking forward to place the scroll in her hand. "And in the future, do remember that while dealing with any of the Spartan family, at least, there is no love lost between blood. Contracts are needed in every aspect of politics."

Ctimene nods, and Penelope turns away to bow in front of Athena while her courage lasts. "Goddess of Wisdom, patron of Ithaka," She pitches her voice respectably. "May I inquire about a matter, if I might recieve your blessings to do so?"

"Granted."

"Our people rely on fish," She says simply. Does not look up to see if Athena is angry, about to fly into a rage and curse her for her insolence. "I would greatly be thankful if you would let me know if we require to trade for supplies from the mainland this year."

Athena is silent for a long moment. Penelope's heart pounds. Then- "It will last a month more. Do not eat seafood till then."

Her breath escapes her. "Thank you, Pallas Athena."

She turns back to the men, lifting her chin. "We will stay in for the rains and resume our search next summer, giving Odysseus time to return to the sea. When we sail, Ctimene will be crowned queen, and rule with her husband until we return. But the men who had come with us the first time will be all replaced by a new cohort."

She silences their loud protests with a raised hand, trying not to waver in the face of their betrayed looks and devastation. "No," She says firmly. "Odysseus sacrificed himself for all of you to return home, to make new lives safe and happy; not spend time chasing him down on the high seas endlessly. Honor his choice. We will have rotations every season, barring the storms. Choose amongst the remaining men who will be coming by next harvest."

Polites looks at her as the men are dismissed, filing out of the main hall muttering desolately. "I will not be leaving, Penelope."

Her lips quirk. It might be the first time he's called her by name. "Wouldn't expect any different." She's incredibly aware that this is uncharted territory, her first actual order as Queen of Ithaka. Ten years she had learnt the politics, but it had been under Anticlea and Laertes, with an end date she could look forward to. Now she is no longer a replacement sovereign, no longer has a husband sailing back to lighten her load.

Queen of Ithaka. How ironic, that of the three jewels, of all her sisters, she was the only one to achieve their dream of being able to rule alone and visible- yet it meant was that she would never be happy.

She turns back to Ctimene and Athena, who are both staring at her with the same unreadable expression.

Discomfort rushes through her- had she said the wrong thing somewhere?- but she pushes it aside to bow again. "How is Eurylochus?"

Ctimene smiles, and something genuine breaks through. "Better. Did you know he was not eating, though?"

Penelope starts at the sudden accusation, shocked. Feels anger rise at Eurylochus' idiocy, putting her at odds with her sister-in-law because of his own stupidity. "No, I did not," She said evenly. "Rations were distributed equally."

"But you must have known!" Ctimene snaps. "How-"

Athena places a hand on her shoulder. "Screaming helps no one."

Ctimene jerks her head to the side, cheeks burning. Penelope opens her mouth to say something, but the other suddenly rushes past, skirts billowing. "I have to go. Let us meet in the evening, Penelope."

"Alright," Penelope says, and when she turns back Athena has disappeared as well.

She takes a long breath, shoulders slumping as the doors bang closed. Then looks beside her and squints. "You better be eating. I don't want to hear nonsense about fainting and wasting away from you, understand?"

Polites snorts and gets to his feet. "Yes, your grace."

She groans, putting her head in her hands, exhausted. "Why did he have to not eat? Now Ctimene blames me and will fight me on everything as recompense. How was I supposed to even know!"

Polites sighs, and she remembers with a start that he is Eurylochus' best friend as well. "You must understand, Penelope." He says quietly, with all the sorrow that she knew he'd been pushing aside for a brave face with the men, their unending optimism made person. Some days, even she couldn't tell whether he was acting or not. "That the reason we got into this mess at all was because of the two of us."

Penelope frowns. "I'm sure that's not-"

"It was on Eurylochus' behest that we stopped for food. It was on my insistence that we trusted the Lotus people. Odysseus would still be here if it wasn't for the two of us, pushing him to make decisions on behalf of all of us, then standing back while he took all the punishment for it."

"That is what ruling is-!" Penelope exclaims, but is cut off again.

"It was still our fault!" He bursts out, voice cracking. "Do you know, not one second-in-command survived the Trojan war? That the war only stretched as long as it did because Odysseus was the only strategist determined to not let even one of his men be a casualty? I myself saw three soldiers throw themselves in front of fatal blows for Patroclus, I saw Diomedes' general get shot down after he forced his king to stay back while they inspected a rumor about a crack in the wall- man after man died for their rulers, and us? All six hundred, whole and hearty, returned miraculously to our families, our home; while our brother and friend-" His face twists up. "-our ruler who made it possible is lost to us. Ten years of his love and care and jokes made us lose sight of the fact that he was still our King, not just our captain. We should have been the ones to go, Penelope. Even if every man, every soldier had been Poseidon's cost- we knew the risks. We knew when we sailed that not all would return. If no one else, me and Eurylochus should have had the damn courage-"

He breaks into sobs and Penelope drops all sense of propriety to pull him into a hug, mouth downturned as she silently cries as well, shoulders jerking.

"I miss him," He sobs. "My best friend. Why did the gods have to take him? Why must the Fates be so cruel?"

Penelope's eyes mist over, as she turns to stare out the window, out at the poisoned ocean, her husband swimming somewhere under its waters.

Come back, she begs. Oh, Odysseus, everyone loves and misses you so. Come back soon.

[josephquinnswhore]

it ain’t weakness, baby - joel miller x female reader

Summary: Joel survived Abby’s brutal encounter, but has left him with major mental and physical disabilities.

Word Count: 2k

Content Warning: mentions of reader having ptsd, blood, amputation, scars, disabilities, murder. blowjob, Joel whining and begging????? cumming in mouth. female masterbation/orgasm. Joel praising reader. insecurity. Joel treating reader like shit. implied age gap.

Note: yeah.. I kinda ruined my own heart with this one.. anyway, enjoy!

Things weren’t the same. They’ll never be the same. That’s what Joel said, over and over. Saying anything he could in order to push you away, to try and build back the wall between you that you’d seamlessly picked away at.. brick by brick all them years ago.

His old age wasn’t his hinderance. His physical disability wasn’t his hindrance. Though, these were his painful claims, that he couldn’t bare to see your youth wasted on someone like him. A no good—worthless old cripple. That’s what he called himself..

“You’re wasting the best years of your life on me! There are plenty of healthy and capable men that could take care of you here! Just.. just go and find someone else!” He’d spat through gritted teeth, his insecurity gnawing at his insides after he saw a younger man offering your hand at the Christmas dance.

Joel Miller had sunken into the dark and ever falling abyss of self destruction and isolation, daring to say cruel things to you, to push you away.

He’ll never admit it’s the last thing he truly wanted, in fact he was terrified of the thought of you leaving.

One day he found out what you did.

“Tell me you’re not that stupid.” He insults, glaring at you from the recliner he’d come so attached to.

“I did. Tommy and Ellie and I, we fucking did it Joel. They’re dead, all of them, we made them suffer. I made her suffer before I buried her sorry ass for ever touching you!” The argument was bound to get heated, after all, they were talking about the girl that mutilated Joel and left him disabled.

“Do you realise what she could’ve done to you? Look at what she did to me!” He snarled. “Goddamn fools the lot of you!”

He didn’t want you to leave, to stop fighting for him. But he convinced himself he was worthless. He saw it; the looks people gave him, sympathy strewn on their faces. Sympathy he didn’t need. He was fine.

It was the irony of it all. He told himself he was fine, he didn’t need help, he could somehow maintain some semblance of control and independence. No matter the wheelchair, or the crutches. Yet, he would snarl and snap at you, unwilling to keep you close. He would angrily claim he was worthless, useless.

“I can do it!” He growls, shrugging off your hand from the metal crutches, his first time using them as a result of his amputated leg. Refusing any help, as he had done every single day for the past few months.

Perhaps at one point, you did grow tired of it. Of his inability to try. After months of trying and limited resources, you’d tried to teach Joel how to write again, how to play guitar, how to sculpt, how to fix.

“Baby come on, please! Just try again for me. Five more minutes then I promise we can stop.” You pleaded, and were met with a dismissive snarl.

“I ain’t no damn kid so stop treating me like one. I’m done with this!” The pen was sent flying, ink splattering all over his favourite journal, which you’d spent a few hours delicately cleaning to save the important book.

You were trying to get him to live. To have the independence he so desperately craved, but he was stubborn, always had been. He was his own worst enemy.

You were even kind enough to take the only spare time you had, to build him a wheelchair accessible ramp, it was weeks worth of labour, and trading a tonne of sentimental personal items to trade for the wood and nails. Yet, it remains unused, even now, as it rains and the snow coats the wood, they begin to rot and wither. All your hard work and dedication to your husband had gone completely unnoticed.

Yet, for some reason, you never quit on him.

“Stop scowlin at me like that and just try, would you?”

He grunted, his hand trembled, the majority of his soup fell off the spoon. With whatever strength he had, he tossed the spoon onto the floor, as it clattered along the wood, it sends soup flying all up the wall. The bowl soon clatters to the ground before you can catch it.

The bowl was heavy, and the sound of it on the hardwood floors sent your movements to a halt—frozen. Your ears ringing as if it were that forsaken shotgun again, tearing a hole through Joel’s leg, flesh and blood splattering against the carpet rug and the floor. Stumbling, you take a moment to yourself, rushing out of the living room and into the kitchen.

The noise over and over replaying in your mind, the golf club coming down on Joel’s head, sure you would witness the love of her life being brutally murdered in front of your eyes. What Joel didn’t know, as far as he assumed, that you had these triggers as a result of ptsd.

The ticking of the clock in the kitchen becomes unbearable and you find yourself back in the living room.

Waiting for you, is another mess of his you’d have to clean.

“It feels like you’re not even trying anymore Joel. It’s been months—why can’t you see I’m trying to help you!” You insist.

“I don’t need your help!” He growled bitterly.

“So you’re just going to sit in that stupid fucking chair till you die huh? Is that it?” Finally reaching the breaking point after your recent trigger, tears cascade down your red cheeks.

His scowl softened, into a look she hadn’t seen since the incident happened. He battles his ego and his stubbornness to finally reach a hand out to you, his shaking fingers just graze your own.

“Baby—you know I don’t mean it.” He murmurs hopelessly. “I’m—I’m sorry. I appreciate you tryin’.”

The atmosphere changes in the air, the winter suddenly doesn’t feel so harsh, and the breeze that slides through the crack in the window frame can’t be felt over the warmth of the heater that Joel nests by.

You kneels down onto the floor, taking his trembling hand. “I’m not giving up on you. When we took our marriage vows I fucking meant them. Just let me be here for you. It’s killing me that you’re trying to push us apart. Please.”

For some reason, your plea pierced his old heart with such reverence that he doesn’t argue, he relaxes his tense shoulders and murmurs, “okay.”

Finally, acceptance, peace. The white flag was being waved. Seventy two days of fighting was finally over.

“Shouldn’t be.. on your knees like that baby. You—you’ll get sick.” The worry in his voice had another kind of anxiety behind it.

One that you soon found the reasoning of.. his cock.. stiffer in his pants than you’d seen it in months. “Don’t tell me you’ve been suffering all this time.” You gasp in disbelief.

His aimless gaze and silence was enough to confirm the accusation. He’d been so sexually frustrated.. that he hadn’t been able to cum.

“This is why you’ve been so upset.” You murmurs. “Isn’t it?”

He answers with a simple and shameful nod, you press a kiss to his hand, ready to offer him a solution. “Can.. Can I help you?”

The question takes him off guard, his thick and greying eyebrows meet together in a low frown.

“Why would you want to touch me? I’m .. I’m a goddamn freak—“

“You shut up and let me decide what I see you as Joel Miller.” You scold. “I see someone strong, brave, handsome.”

He scoffs, but it doesn’t deter you. Instead it only motivates you more. Leaning up against the recliner, your chest on the left side meets the fabric, where his leg had to be amputated from the thigh downward, due to the inflicted shotgun wound.

“I see a man so incredibly capable, of living, thriving. Needing help doesn’t make you weak, baby. Let me take care of you.”

His trembling hands struggle to unclasp the stubborn button on his jeans. “Hey, just let me look after you baby. Relax.” You insist softly.

Making quick work of his button and zipper, your cool and small hands make his cock look enormous as it springs out of his jeans, rock hard. Has it always been this big? Perhaps the illusion of deprivation has her mind as desperate as her dripping cunt. Even your mouth begins to salivate, gulping as you come eye level with the small clear bead of precum.

Without warning, you lurch forward, pressing a small kiss to the red and aching tip, before swirling your tongue around the bulbous head.

“Ah, ah fuck baby,” he whines, sharply inhaling a breath, his good hand moves to grip the back of your head, begging for you to swallow him.

His desperate pleas only serve the purpose of rilling you up, with the gentle touch of his fingertips in your hair, desperately clutching at a fistful of your hair..

Opening your mouth wider to fit his enormous girth, halfway down and you’re already gagging. He whimpers, sounding the most vulnerable she’s heard since their last intimate encounter. Sneakily, you slide a hand down to your entrance, sliding your fingers inside to collect some of the slick before, sliding them upwards towards your enlarged and throbbing clit. whine is muffled by his cock.

You push on, feeling the mushroom tip sliding down your throat as you gag, covering his cock in your warm and sticky saliva. His untamed coarse public hairs tickle your nose.

The noises were absolutely despicable and lewd, the way you took the whole length of him, gagging at every descend, it was a sensation that had him trembling underneath you. His trembling hand attempts to clutch the arm of the recliner.

“Baby, baby stop.” He begged. “Not.. I’m not gonna last.” His breath quickens and as he tensed up, you take his length out of your mouth, but he quickly thrusts back into it, craving the warmth and the pleasure of the hole.

“Don’t stop, hmph please don’t stop.” He pleaded in a whine, Joel Miller, begging you.

You felt your stomach tightening, the pleasure of your fingers on your soaking clit, swirling at the perfect pace and Joel’s soft voice begging. You moan around his cock as your legs tremble underneath you.

Joel finally catches on and it’s the last straw for him before he throws his head back onto the recliner and grunts, the growl that leaves his lips is primal and comes from his throat. “Fuck—such a good girl.” He stutters and thrusts his hips upward, filling your mouth and throat with him, sending his ropes of warm cum straight down your throat, you drink, like it’s the last source of energy you’ll ever receive.

His hand unclenches from your hair as he feels himself shrinking inside of your mouth, encouraging you to look up at him, and you do. You’re met with Joel, looking at you with all the love and adoration and affection you deserve.

“Come here baby.” He murmurs, his thumb caresses your cheek as you look up at him. Climbing up onto his lap, you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Could.. could you please pull the recliner back?” His voice escapes timidly. Here he was, asking for your help; finally.

With a swift movement, you pull on the latch on the side of the recliner and the bottom end swings upward, now you’re both laying, your hand reaches for a warm blanket on the nearby couch, and toss it over the two of you.

“Thanks for not giving up on me.” The world circle in her ears, and she runs her thumb over the large scar on his forehead that spans to his temple and eyebrow. “I wouldn’t ever dream of it.”

“I love you, Mrs Miller.” Is the last thing your happy heart hears before your eyes flutter, peace and pleasure lulling you into a dream.

[icepoptroll]

@rtcpickyourpoison day 1: Ocean - Nightmare

So first, yes, this is an absolutely batshit premise and nothing makes sense. I can explain. It's based on this bit from Impractical Jokers (particularly the one starting around 1:15) and I thought this with Ricky plus having to face her misgivings and an F on top of it all would probably be her worst nightmare. Is this a bit mean-spirited and darkly humorous and totally out of character for Ricky? Yes, yes it is. Dream logic!!!

So for all my prompts I'm posting 4 page comics. I usually include alt text with all my drawings, but seeing as the length of each page for these and all the dialogue might make it hard to stay within the character limit, I'll be writing out image descriptions under a cut on each post instead.

Image Description:

Page 1:

Panel 1: Closeup of Karnak. He is saying "I have decided the final decision shall come down to the one with the most cats. Richard Potts, you are the winner."

Panel 2: Ocean with a fearful expression saying "Oh no. . ."

Page 2: Only one large panel. They're still in the warehouse. Ricky is wearing the costume from Space Age Bachelor Man as well as a crown. He is sitting on a sort of cat-themed throne with his crutches leaned against it. All the kids but Ocean are wearing cat ears and tails, dancing at his side, Mischa directly to his right wearing shades and "making it rain" with a stack of Canadian 100 dollar bills. Noel is wearing his Monique costume. Karnak is saying, "So how about it, Richard? Will Ocean be joining the rest of you in coming back to life?"

Page 3:

Panel 1: Ricky with an unpleased expression holding up a sheet of lined paper with a big red F on it.

Panel 2: Ricky dropping the paper and holding up a thumbs down.

Panel 3: Ocean screaming "NOOOOOO!!!!" and falling through a trap door.

Page 4:

Panel 1: Ocean waking up with a gasp. She is in a hospital room. Her hair is in a braid, she's covered in bruises, has bandages all over her arms, an IV in her right hand, and oxygen tubing in her nose.

Panel 2: Ocean sighs, a relieved but sad expression on her face, rubbing her forehead with two fingers. She is saying "I really have to make things right with Ricky one of these days. . ."

End image description

[everybodyshusband]

uhhh in My Feels™️ so woe, ansgt be upon ye !!!

disabled rain, angst, hurt/not much comfort, it's just sad and a bit weird and bad i'm sorry ksdfjnsfkdf divider by the icon that is @/wrathofrats

Rain is a jealous ghoul. He’s always known it.

It’s fun, sometimes. Fun to let his packmates play with his jealousies until he just can’t help but snap. Until he’s got one of them over his lap, turned on beyond belief, skin red hot, as they beg for his mercy. As they apologise for daring to belong to anyone but him.

So yes, his jealousy is fun, but he never expected for it to manifest like this.

The first time, he thought he was just overtired. Anger boiling inside of him caused by lack of sleep the previous night rather than jealousy of one of his packmates. After all, this is a stupid thing to be jealous about, and the night before, well… He’d been rather too busy being taken apart inch by painstaking inch by Zephyr to really have had any modicum of decent sleep at all. So again, why was he jealous? Why is he still jealous? What motive did he have to be jealous of the ghoul that was in his bed only the night before?

It wasn’t until Aeon was summoned that he figured it out. Until the sensation of his blood boiling could be tied to more than just an abstract feeling of annoyance bubbling under his skin. With Aeon, he’s never felt his usual jealousy—the quintessence ghoul is in his bed more often than not, so why would he? What he has felt however, has been that awful, sick feeling of hatred every time that new ghoul stumbles. Complains of his ailments. Asks to borrow one of Zephyr’s old canes or pairs of forearm crutches for stability on a particularly bad day.

That’s when it had all clicked together. Aeon. Zephyr. Sometimes even Mountain or Cumulus.

But never Rain.

His jealousy stems from the fact that they get help. They are allowed to be in pain, to be uncomfortable. They have a reason. They have been seen by Omega, by Aether, by the team in the infirmary, and they all have something different about them.

Rain doesn’t.

Rain, with the hyperextended legs that apparently cause him no medical difficulties and yet still stumbles during practice or onstage. Rain, with the perfect iron count whose vision still turns to static when he stands up. Rain, with joints that ache, bones that pop, a head that never quite seems to be able to pay attention as well as the others, but he’s fine. No matter how hard he presses that something is wrong, he’s fine. Nevermind that he’s been Up Top for years, nevermind that he’s done all that he can to treat this on his own. Nevermind that he’s getting worse. He’s fine, at least that’s what Aether had told him the last time he took a trip to the infirmary.

So yes, he’s jealous. He’s jealous of Zephyr’s chair on their bad days and the fact that Aeon feels no shame in asking to borrow mobility aids from ghouls that aren’t using them. He’s jealous that Cumulus only needs to ask Aether for a wrist splint before one is in her lap, being meticulously fastened by the quintessence ghoul himself. He’s tried to reign it in, the intensity of his emotions about this, but no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t. He knows it’s not anyone’s fault, least of all Aeth’s or Meg’s—they’re just doing their jobs, there’s protocol they have to follow—but that knowledge doesn’t stop the jealousy, the aggravation, the hatred of his beloved packmates for simply existing in a way that he’s not allowed to. For getting help in a way that he’s too scared to ask for.

He often thinks that perhaps this is why he’s so angry, so jealous. It’s his own fault he can’t—won’t—ask for help from any of them. He knows he’s allowed to. He knows that Aether and Omega would be more than happy to bend the rules a little to help him out, or that Zephyr wouldn’t mind lending him a (literal) something to lean on when Rain needs it. But he’s scared. Scared that if they can help, he won’t be in pain anymore and he’s been lying this whole time. And scared that if they can’t, that he’s unfixable, untreatable. That this vessel is just another one of God’s mistakes that Satan never bothered to fix. Maybe it is. Maybe there’s no fixing him. No helping him.

He hopes that’s not the case. As much as getting whatever this is fixed scares him, he knows he can’t go on like this forever. His pack knows it too. Zephyr had noticed it first. They’d sat him down one day in their room and had simply waited until it had all come pouring out in a mess of tears and snot and helplessness. Since then, the pack have known what’s been happening and as a collective, they’ve been doing their best to help him. It’s nice, he thinks. For them to be so kind to a being as broken as himself. One day he’ll try his best to repay them all. For now though, he just needs to work up the energy to swing his legs over the edge of his mattress, to muster up the courage to call Aeon and ask for his help, and maybe a cane.

Or maybe he’ll just stay in bed a while longer...

[dreaminrainbows]

Hello lovies, i hope the holidays treated you well! Here are the fics that got me through December! Always leave kudos and comments!

swallowed in the sea by  28goldensfics/@28goldens | [63k]

It's 1948. It's been years since Louis Tomlinson was discharged from his time as a war doctor; all memories of that time haunt him. To get away, he moved to Orkney, a small town in Scotland on the shoreside. The storms became his crutch and solitude his comfort, watching the rain roll in and the waves lap on the sand. Everything was okay, every day was the same. Until there's a knock on his door in the middle of a thunderstorm.

Can't get you off my mind (I won't even try)  by starryhaze/@starryhaze28 | [51k]

“Can we do the thing again?” Harry asks and Louis cocks his head to the side questioningly. “What thing?” He asks softly as Harry puts his empty plate to the side to pull his legs to his chest. “The happy thoughts thing,” he mumbles, resting his chin on his legs. He’s scared Louis doesn’t even know what he means, and feels embarrassed that he brought it up in the first place. “Of course.” Louis nods with a soft smile, putting his own plate to the side and Harry breathes out a sigh of relief. ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Or the one where everything is just a little too much for Harry until he meets his new neighbour, Louis. An alpha with blue eyes and a soft smile, who always seems to know exactly what Harry needs.

My Heart Lies With You  by asphodelknox/ @iamasphodelknox | [31k]

“What did you hit me on the head for?” Louis said. He tried to frown, but it hurt too much. Plus it was hard to frown at someone taking care of him so tenderly. “I didn’t hit you on the head,” Harry said calmly, moving from Louis’s forehead to remove some bandages on his arm. “My friend Niall, the God of Death, hit you on the head.” “Well, why did Niall hit me on the head?” Louis asked. He noticed his lips hurt too, and felt a small gash on them. His arms were covered in scratches and cuts, and as he moved to sit up, he winced at a pain coming from his waist. “What the hell happened to me?” Harry sighed. “Niall… can get a bit… excited.” “Was he excited about hitting me on the head?” “No!” Harry said. “Niall just got away with himself.” “Does he do that often? Get away with himself, I mean?” Louis asked wryly. “Only when an idea gets stuck in his head that he can’t get out.” For being the God of Death, Niall has a habit of acting on ideas without thinking them through. It's probably why Harry ends up with an unexpected but entirely welcome visitor in his bed the day after a Mount Olympus party.

A Road To Something Better  by taggiecb/@taggiecb | [25k]

Louis Tomlinson, famous romance novelist, has just had the rug pulled out from under his feet when his boyfriend leaves him without notice. What's the most appropriate response to this? Move a thousand miles away and seclude himself in a tiny lake town, of course. But nothing is as he expects it to be in the very best way, especially not the handsome mayor of McAll, Idaho.

you're shooting stars from the barrel of your eyes  by devilinmybrain/ @thedevilinmybrain | [20k]

5 times Louis was gross hot and 1 time Harry was.

I Am the Blinking Light by dearmrsawyer/ @dearmrsawyer | [19k]

There is a legend of a lighthouse far out to sea. It can’t be found on any map, and those who do find it never return. They say a ghost haunts the lighthouse, and you can hear it calling out in loneliness on the ocean waves.

Reverse Psychology by heartbreakwthr | [17k]

“Every day I think I’m going to do it, and I just can’t. He’s too good looking. He’s too kind. He’s way out of my league. And at this point he probably thinks I’m the biggest jerk on the planet.” “I mean, probably,” Liam mumbles. Niall throws a pen at Liam’s face in Harry’s defense. - Or, the one where Louis Tomlinson is an elementary school teacher that has visited the hospital twice a week for the past two months, and is hopelessly out of Harry’s league; Harry Styles is a child psychologist who can’t bring muster up the courage to introduce himself to the biggest crush he’s ever had; and somehow they work together to create the best Christmas party the hospital’s ever seen.

Dancing Is Everyone's Style by WritingWithTheCatBella | [17k]

“My papa liked a boy with pretty blue eyes,” she starts, fiddling with the collar of his shirt, material making way for her soft fingers. “Uncle ZeZe said he is still in love with him,” she babbles, just as a man comes sprinting towards them, his expression a frantic kind with short brown curls bouncing wildly and his long coat flying behind him. The eyes are wide open, undeniably green in a shade no one would ever be able to describe, shining bright even in his current state of fear and oh- Harry. Harry Styles. Harry Fucking Styles.

my heart's against your chest, your lips pressed to my neck (i'm in love now) by DaddyAlphaLouisBabyOmegaHarry/ @bottomhaztoplou | [8k]

Five times Louis gives Harry a courting gift and one time Harry reciprocates.

When Everything’s Wrong (You Make it Right)  by SilverStuff50/@silverstuff50 | [7k]

Written for the Omega Harry Fest 2024 Prompt: There is something wrong with his nest. Harry’s rearranged it a thousand times tonight, even in his foggy state just on the edge of a drop. He’s always been able to take care of himself, able to perfect his nest so that it calms his omega down and keeps him away from that floaty feeling but right now fear is overtaking him as he gets closer and closer to the edge. The thing is, he knows what’s missing. But he can’t exactly go knock on his neighbour’s door and ask “Hey, I know you don’t know me but I’m about to drop and need that purple sweatshirt off of your back for my nest so I can stop it.” Or can he?

no faith left to lose by louieshalo/@louieshalo | [7k]

Louis shoves an album booklet — Harry’s album booklet — into Harry’s hands, folded open to a familiar page. “I need you to tell me that that goddamn song is not about me.” His voice cracks a little in his vehemence, and ice fills Harry’s veins as he glances down at the creased page. He doesn’t need to look closely to know what it is Louis is talking about — the title is printed plainly on the page, Second Chances, along with every incriminating lyric, line by line. It’s his most blatant offense off the entire album, probably; sickeningly indulgent and too obviously vulnerable to even defend himself against. The song is a surface-level dip into the fantasy world Harry toys with when the ache of loneliness gets to be too much in the middle of the night, the brief glimpse already toeing over the boundary he’d promised himself he’d set for his career. Most damning, though, is the tiny embossed dedication at the bottom of the page; “For who I’d be if I wasn’t afraid,” Louis recites, looking expectantly at Harry. “What the fuck does that mean? or, the one where they miss each other more than anything.

bite me by finelinegynandromorph/ @finelinegynandromorph | [6k]

harry’s just a single mum trying to enjoy his favorite holiday season. that is, until his hot new neighbor moves in completely alone with a newborn baby

Wonderland by orphan_account | [4k]

For the prompt: Harry the fairy takes up residence in Louis’ attic to hibernate through the cold months, but Louis ends up finding him whilst putting up the Christmas decorations. Queue grumpy Harry being woken up, but he can't go back to sleep once he's tried to hibernate, so he starts following Louis around, full of excitement and questions about his first Christmas.

Day Four: Gift by 28goldensfics/ @28goldens | [4k]

Christmas Countdown Day Four: Gift Harry and Louis are on a break. But, on December 23rd Harry finds a collection of gifts he set aside for Louis and decides to give them to him anyway.

You Don’t Have to Be Lonely Tonight by Neondiamond/ @neondiamond | [2k]

Louis is stuck working the Christmas day shift at the coffee shop. Harry is the sad stranger who comes in to spend the day there.

Do You See What I See  by allwaswell16/@allwaswell16 | [2k]

Harry may or may not be rescuing stray animals as an excuse to see the very hot local veterinarian. Or an absurd pet fic inspired by She Is Beauty We Are World Class

we got all night (we're going nowhere) by larryftnoctrl/ @the-larry-way | [1k]

Louis couldn’t believe his luck. Across the ocean from home, he’d found a fellow Brit, an attractive alpha who seemed to like alphas. And most importantly, he seemed to have a cheeky mouth that Louis would love to silence with his own mouth. Or his knot. He wasn’t picky.

(do you think it's easy) being of the jealous kind by larryftnoctrl/ @the-larry-way | [854]

Harry is mad and Louis isn't exactly sure why. (or Louis comes home smelling of another omega and Harry is near heat and jealous)

I wish you all a Happy New Year, hope it treats you good!

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