#three trucks slam into me at once

[citrine-elephant]

forever gonna associate "vertigo" with a visual of verdugo re4 spinning and breakdancing in my head... aough... oh no

[withahappyrefrain]

number one on the smut prompts with tyler owens 🫣👀

Most people dreaded summer. The heat, the random thunderstorms, the seemingly endless droughts.

You craved it.

Summer meant late mornings, tangled up in the sheets. It meant watching sunsets in the bed of a truck. It meant going to rodeos and going home instead of a random motel.

It meant tornado season was done. Summer meant Tyler was back in your arms, spending time with you (aside from the research and occasional videos).

The exhaustive heat was still there. But he made it bearable.

"Just come join me," His voice is hot on your neck, his words stated between gentle nips as his fingers toyed with the hem of your denim shorts.

You giggled, trying to remain steadfast despite your thighs clenching, "Why do I feel like you don't want to shower?"

"Because I don't. I want to stay cool and spend time with my pretty girl," Tyler was so shameless, but you couldn't fault him; in fact, you loved that about him. How he was so insistent on talking to you one night after a rodeo, leading you to this very moment years later.

"Please?" How could you ever say no to those stunning green eyes?

The cold tile was refreshing, the cool water giving your heated body a much needed reprieve. Tyler's mouth was unrelenting as it alternated between your lips and your neck, his fingers quickly thrusting in and out of your soaked folds.

You had one hand tangled in his dark blonde hair, tugging on the locks in a desperate attempt to lure his lips back to yours. The other was gripping one of his broad shoulders, no doubt your fingernails creating crescent shaped marks that Boone would tease him about tomorrow.

"Think she's ready for me?" His lips ghost over yours, so close to giving you what you wanted.

You nodded, unable to speak due to how his thumb was drawing lazy circles on your clit.

He hoisted one of your legs up, pinning your knee against his hip. Upon feeling his cock enter, you tilted your head back, a deep moan echoing off the shower tiles.

The sound of skin slapping against skin was barely audible over the shower. No matter how many times you two did this dance, it still took your body some time to adjust to the sheer size of him.

Because of course he was big.

"S'fuckin tight," Tyler grunted, his Texan upbringing shining through in his words, "Every time."

You buried your face into his neck, hoping it would muffle the sounds of your pleasure soaked sobs.

He was relentless, hips all but slamming into yours, determined to push you over the edge. You learned early on that when Tyler put his mind to something, he made sure to see it through, whether it was a storm or your orgasm.

You clutched onto him for leverage, your legs shaking as he got you closer to making stars explode behind your eyes.

"That's it, c'mon pretty girl," he chuckled at the way your tight walls clenched around his cock upon hearing his special nickname for you, "Lemme feel ya. Wanna feel ya soak me."

Almost as if on command, your vision went white as pleasure shot through your body. You were yelling saying something, most likely his name as you soared through the blissful trip.

"Ah fuck, pretty girl," his hips snapped against yours once, twice, three more times before stilling, his own release quickly filling you.

The sound of the water hitting the tiles and your heavy breathing filled the room. Finally, you were the first to chuckle, breaking the ice.

"Welcome home baby," you grinned before pressing a kiss against his wet cheek.

"Welcome home, pretty girl."

[cameronsprincess]

okok hot cocoa and a movie w rafe and his gf on a late night drive maybe after a fight?????? 🤗🤗🤗 u can make it smutty or angsty or fluffy

i’m honestly thinking all three, angsty smutty fluff😏🩷

CW: smut! 18+ only! bf!rafe, gf!reader, strong language, slight angst, piv sex, car sex, semi public sex, fluffy ending w soft!rafe<3

join the 5k celly here!

you lean your head against the window of your boyfriends truck, nothing but the low hum of the radio filling the tense silence that surrounds the two of you.

the night was going well, until it wasn’t. you and rafe argued a lot, but it had never reached the point it did tonight. the thoughts of all the harsh things you both spewed at one other makes your chest tighten.

you slowly lift your head from the window, chancing a glance at rafe. his body is tense, fingers gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are white. you don’t miss the slight tick in his jaw, watching as he clenches and unclenches it, nostrils flaring as his eyes remain on the road, not bothering to even look your way for a second.

“rafe…” you whisper, shifting in your seat so you’re facing him completely.

his hard blue eyes glance at you for a second, quickly placing them back on the road before he speaks.

“what, y/n… i’m really not in the fucking mood to talk to you right now.”

you breathe out a sigh, rolling your eyes. “then why the fuck did we go on a drive, huh? if you can’t even fucking talk to me, what was the fucking point in this?”

his hands tighten around the steering wheel once more, a heavy sigh pushing from his chest.

“i needed to fucking clear my head, after you…” he pauses, trying to calm himself before continuing, “fuck, after you said some of the shit you did, throwing low blows about my relationship with my dad my way, telling me that i’m a fuck up, i needed to fucking get out of that house… you are the one who asked to come with me, i would’ve much preferred you stayed home.”

his words hit you hard, slapping you in the face and twisting tightly around your stomach. your face drops, a slight frown on your lips as tears begin to fill your eyes. you know you shouldn’t have thrown his strained relationship with his father in his face, using it as ammo in your ploy to hurt him, and you definitely shouldn’t have called him a fuck up, knowing full well he hears that enough from his father and a few others.

rafe wasn’t a fuck up— far from it actually— you were just so angry, the words spilled from your lips before you could even give them a second thought.

“rafe, i-” you begin, but his loud, booming voice rings through the air, cutting you off.

“just stop fucking talking! can you fucking do that, for once? just stop. fucking. talking,” he pauses, letting out a rough laugh, “i’m just gonna take you home, i can’t stand the sight of you right now, can’t stand your irritating fucking voice.”

you gasp, his words slicing right through your heart.

“fuck you, rafe! god, i’m trying to make things better, but you’re being a fucking dick! and you wonder why i said the shit i said earlier, it’s because you act like this! you’re a fucking child! learn to grow up and communicate.”

rafe slams on the breaks so hard you jolt forward, your palms slapping against the dash of the truck. you push back, eyes narrowed on him. “what the fuck, rafe! are you fucking crazy? fucking drive the truck, now!” you shout, hands shaking and breathing choppy.

he ignores you, simply pressing his foot on the gas and speeding down the road, his tires slightly screeching as he does. you press your back firmly against the seat, arms crossed over your chest as you watch dim street lights and dark outlines of the trees fly by.

rafe makes a sharp right turn, pulling his truck into an empty, dark parking lot. he places the truck in park, quickly killing the engine and tossing the keys to the floorboard. you run a hand down your face, a scoff leaving your lips.

“why the fuck are we here? take me the fuck home.”

he doesn’t answer, his silence slowly grating on your nerves.

“rafe! are you gonna say anythin-”

he cuts off your words, his hand reaching out and wrapping tightly around your throat. you wrap a hand around his wrist, trying to pry him off, but it’s no use. his fingers tighten around the expanse of your neck, pressing firmly into your pulse point. he gives a low hum, leaning his face in close to yours, his warm breath fanning across your face.

“god you’re fucking infuriating, such a fucking bitch sometimes,” he stops, his eyes flitting down to your lips, reveling in the way they’re slightly parted, loving the way your pulse beats rapidly against his fingers. his lips slightly brush against yours and you squeeze your thighs together. you need him, and you need him now. “what am i gonna do about that little fucking attitude of yours, hmm?”

your eyes find his, the normally bright and shining blue now dark. you inch your face closer to his the best you can, and it’s just enough to press your lips against his. rafe groans, releasing your throat, his hand gripping the back of your neck and pulling you further into him. his tongue shoves its way past the seam of your lips, tangling with yours perfectly.

you moan into his mouth, your fingers gripping at the soft fabric of his shirt and pushing him back. both of your heavy breathing fills the cramped space of his truck, your eyes darting across his face, “rafe…” you whisper, but he doesn’t let you say another word.

he fumbles with his belt, pulling it free from his jeans before popping the button and slowly guiding the zipper down. he removes the rough denim from his lower body, his boxers going with them. your mouth waters at the sight of his hard cock, his tip swollen and already dripping with his arousal. he reaches over the center console, hands gripping your hips tightly and yanking you into his lap.

a low groan escapes him when your covered core rubs across his length, making him twitch beneath you. his hands pull at the waistband of your cotton shorts and you lift your hips, allowing him to pull them down your legs. he tosses them into the passenger seat, one hand firmly gripping at your hip while the other fists his cock, jerking himself as he keeps eye contact with you.

“fuck me, rafe. please?”

the words barely leave your lips before he’s pushing the head into your drenched hole, bottoming out in seconds. you both groan in unison, the feel of his large cock stretching you and the way your pussy tightly grips his dick making all the anger from moments ago wash away.

rafe presses his lips against yours, his mouth devouring you as he holds onto your hips, keeping you still as he pounds himself inside you from below. the head of his cock repeatedly hits at that sweet spot inside you, your body shaking in his hold and sweet moans of pleasure falling past your lips.

“r-rafe.. oh, god.” you mumble against his lips.

he pulls back, hard blue eyes on yours as he continues to brutally fuck himself into you. your pussy pulsates around him, your clit throbbing. you remove his hands from your hips, running them up your sides and placing them up your shirt. he cups your breasts, squeezing at them harshly. you begin lifting your hips, slamming yourself back down on him, meeting him thrust for thrust.

“fuck, baby. ‘m so sorry, ‘m so fuckin’ sorry.”

you press your forehead against his, your lips beginning to slowly trail across his jaw and down to his neck. your teeth lightly nip at his sweat slick skin, loving the reaction it pulls from him.

“‘m sorry, too, rafe. i love you. fuuuck, i love you.”

your body trembles beneath his hold, rafe’s hands slowly and softly roaming your body, drinking in every bit of you with his hands. “i love you, too.”

the band snaps, your pussy clenching tightly around rafe’s cock, your orgasm rushing through you with a call of his name. rafe isn’t too far behind you, his dick twitching inside you. he shoves himself deep inside you, a raspy moan falling from him as he paints your inner walls white with his seed.

his body falls limp beneath you, his arms wrapped around your waist as you lie your head on his chest. his fingers begin to trace lazy shapes on your back, lips kissing softly at the space between your neck and shoulder.

you break the silence first, “i’m really sorry… i- i didn’t mean anything i said, i just-”

he lifts his head, cupping your face in his hands as he forces your eyes on his. “i know. i’m sorry too, i love you, y/n. i really fucking do.”

you smile down at him, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. he pulls his hands from your face, allowing you to rest your head on his chest again. you find comfort in the silence this time, the strong beat of his heart against your face making your insides warm.

tagging a few moots: @starkeysprincess @starkeysbabygirl @rafesthroatbaby @rafesangelita @rafeyscurtainbangs @drewsarms @drewsephrry @bloodibambiidoll @babygorewhore @nemesyaaa @httpsdrewstarkey @redhead1180 @rafeinterlude

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Run Away To Me (I)

AU MASTERLIST || PART II

PAIRING: Blacksmith!Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Runaway Bride!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 4.8k

WARNINGS: Blood, wounds, being hunted/chased, medieval period-esc standards, arranged marriage insinuations, toxic family insinuations, angst, protective Johnny?, etc.

A/N: This series is so Lord Huron coded

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You rush through the low-hanging branches of the reaching pines, their green arms tearing at the once perfect and virginal white dress clothing your body; waves of delicate fabric like bird’s wings. Shredded and torn, you sob in large gasps while the shouting gets louder behind you—the pound of vile hooves along cobblestone. 

“After her!” Blood was rushing down a long slice in your palm, dripping to the verdant grass as you traversed the off-trial paths, the roads of animals and bandits—monsters in the night. 

Flashes of torchlight had gone out long ago, the rain slamming the ground with ancient purpose as the storm got angrier. Tree trunks slam into your shoulders, the wedding dress ripping away in strips as pine needles pierce the bare skin of your feet. Your shoes had slipped off as soon as you had started this mad dash. 

“She went this way! Quickly!” You run faster, shuffling down a long hill as mud gets packed into your flesh; infecting wounds with its slimy make-up. 

“Please,” your voice begs lowly, hiccuping out vowels as you drop to your knees at the bottom of a ravine before you sob and grit your teeth. Wading through the stream of chilled water, you dig into the ground and shove yourself up on shaking legs as rain pelts your head. “Please, I can’t go back.”

Even your thin clothes are heavy on you—body weighed down by terror and a desperate plea. Because what you said was true. You can’t go back. Can’t go back to the search party, can’t go back to the ceremony…and you can’t go back to the man you were supposed to marry. No, you’d rather face the woods. 

Scaling up the other edge of the ravine, you slam a bloody hand down to the rocks atop, pebbles flying past your face as a flash of lightning momentarily illuminates your field of view. Noises reminiscent of an animal carve their way out of your esophagus, teeth gritted as feet slip and strain. 

You heave yourself over and fight the weakness in your arms. Coughing, you pray the storm will wash away any trace of your charge to freedom—the blood and the tracks. With any luck, the hounds won’t be able to pick up your scent even with the strips of your dress left behind in the branches. 

Pushing away the water from your forehead, you stumble onwards on unsteady feet that pound with pain. Grasping at your gushing palm, you cry out as the burning pain echoes up your forearm.

“Whatever God is out there,” You speak in gasps, slurring the words as your dry throat grates. It’s all but lost to the wind in its great bouts of staggering attacks through the trucks of the trees. “Please, offer me sanctuary.” 

Lightning is the world’s answer, more streaks of light that make your soaked body flinch and shake even more. Yet, in that tiny second of light, there had been something in the far distance—a shadow. 

Your eyes peer harder, the calls from the riders suck in the back of your mind as they taper off as the search is re-routed. 

What was…?

Wooden sides, three separate rectangular shapes that stand firm in the rampaging elements. Your feet slide over the ground as you limp in the direction you’d seen them, the flesh of your body so cold that you had gone numb in the sheets of rainfall. 

A heart fills with senseless hope.

A homestead! With no other option, you take a deep, ragged, breath and continue on as quickly as you’re able; dress hanging off one shoulder. When you reach the front door some ear-ringing minutes later you’re barely standing upright—legs teetering and thighs shaking with dying vigor. 

Panting, your first banging to the wood is weak at best, barely a sound above the thunder and the slap of rain. You strangle a sob and wrench your shoulder back, landing three hard hits that act more like punches. Pain blossoms in your hand, but you continue striking the wood. 

There’s a loud ruckus from behind the blackened barrier, a yell, and before your knuckles can make themselves bleed from fear-filled adrenaline, the door is whipped open. A dim firelight spills out from a low hearth and you find yourself staring into the narrowed eyes of a man and his exasperated expression. 

There’s the beginning of a growl, heavy with an accented voice, “Now who in the hell is—!”

A strong jaw goes slack, brunette stubble stilling. Blue eyes like cobalt instantly peel back to show the whites, words strangled away in a sharp inhale. 

The man is in his late twenties, stocky, and clothed in a loose sleep shirt made of thin linen with black pants. His shoulders were near large enough to knock on the frame of the door as he stood in it, built with the strength of a boar and then some. His large, lightly-tanned hand on the door slackens as his eyes speedily dart down your disoriented form. Biceps the size of your skull.

Heart hammering, you stare for a moment longer, rain pelting your back and looking like a wet dog. It’s as if you’ve forgotten to speak beyond gasps for air, but your eyes implore enough for you. The stranger recovers from his surprise at seeing such a beautiful lone woman at his door with a clearing of his throat.

“...Christ, Dearie, you’re soakin’ wet out here.” He shoulders the door open wider without another question. “Inside, now, quickly.” 

You wrap your arms around your waist and speed into the shelter of the home, water dripping down to the wood as you shiver and your teeth clatter. Not for a second did you think if this might be safe or not, too scared of the riders and their hounds than anything. You wouldn’t allow them to drag you back to your husband-to-be. Not in a million years. 

Your voice is hiccuping as you speak.

“I…I don’t mean to i-intrude, I’m very sorry, Sir.” The man looks around his home before he spots a large bear fur by the messy bed in the corner—he rushes over and grabs it. “I ask forgiveness for w-waking you at such an hour.”

“Jesus, is that what you’re worried about?” Blue eyes crease at you as the heavy fur over your shoulders; your hands snap to catch it, the entire thing swallowing you as gaze up in confusion. The man frowns, staring back as water drips from your nose. “Let’s just focus on gettin’ you dry, yeah? You’ll catch your death like this, Little Lady.” 

A wide hand presses to the expanse of your spine, prodding you forward as you squeak at the sudden contact. You’re guided to a small chair in front of the hearth, plopped down and the sides of the fur are hiked up to your neck quickly.

The stranger kneels down in front of you, focused, and his tired eyes alight with worry. He makes sure the fur isn’t going to fall as he blinks over the state of your hands. He pauses, his large grip stalling at the sight of spreading blood. 

Your wound—you’d almost forgotten. 

“Now what’s this, then?” The brunette's words are quiet, very in-tune with your state as you try to catch your breath and shiver. It was like coaxing a wild animal. 

Blinking, you shift your hand farther under the bear's fur, bringing it to your chest. 

“I won’t be here long, Sir. I promise,” you try to change the topic, but quickly jerk your nose into the crook of your arm as you sneeze, bending over slightly as mud and blood stain your skin. 

Lips tighten along a square face.

“It’s Johnny, Miss.” The world outside rages on, blocked out by the four walls of this nicely sized home of wooden logs and boards. It was well-made with pine and cider, the large hearth in the back wall with inlets near the shuddered windows and various crudely carved pieces of art. 

Weapon displays lined the walls, various makes and models hung on pegs. Axes and swords, spears with red-leather shafts set next to halberds of black steel. You blink at them in slight concern, not used to being around weapons. 

Johnny, as he calls himself, sees this and quickly explains as he rubs at the back of his head, eyes crinkling. 

“Ah, Johnny MacTavish, the blacksmith, that is,” a small, rough chuckle echos out. 

You ease at that. 

“Mr. MacTavish,” you give your name and offer a kind, yet still anxious, smile. “I give my thanks for allowing me shelter. A-and the fur.” 

His gaze slips down to your hidden hand once more, face swirling with an unidentified emotion before studying your torn wedding gown.

“Well, I’m not one to leave a person out on my doorstep in weather like this. Certainly not a Lady.” His brow raises, head tilting. “You going to let me clean that wound a’yours or am I going to have to fish it out myself?” 

Your body tenses slowly, bare feet shuffling over the floor. Staring at Johnny, you gaze at the strangely cut hair atop his head and the messy strands that speak to a night of shifting on his bed. His face is honest and open to you, blinking in soft question as his head angles to the side with an easy twitch of his lips. 

“It’s really not necessary,” you try to chuckle but it falls flat, eyes red and heart still speeding. 

Johnny sighs and glances at the fire, blinking before he shifts to grab another log and toss it in with no concern for the heat of the flame that lap at his fingers. You watch his muscles bunch under his shirt and quickly look at your lap. 

“I’m not the greatest doctor out there, Dearie, but I can do good with washin’ out a cut an’ wrapping it.” You study him and nervously tighten your lips. Johnny’s face seems to soften, hands going up and wrists tilting as his knee stays connected to the floor; firelight on his face. A small smile blooms. “C’mon, I’m not that scary of a bastard, am I?”

You spare a tiny chuckle, shoulders jumping as rainwater slips down your chin. Your shivering was still going on, and would until you got a change of clothes, but the warmth from the fire was helping tremendously. Already feeling was returning to your limbs. 

“Ah,” the blacksmith huffs a laugh, “there’s a smile. Now, let's have a little look-see shall we?” 

Under the fur, your hand lightly shifts, coming back into view, slit palm and all. Johnny’s eyes darken, face going serious behind his stubble. Brown brows turn in. 

“Now where in the hell did you get a—” Just as his gigantic hands were about to circle around yours, there was a violent knock at the door. 

You shoot up in an instant, jerking away from the blacksmith as he snaps his head to the front, eyes lighting. He stands up slowly as you back up a few paces, eyes frantically darting back and forth. The knocking starts up again and thunder peels from outside. 

Your form flinches.

“You can’t let them take me back,” you say quickly, breathing catching up in speed again. Fear burns your lungs and suddenly you’re ten times colder than before. “Mr. MacTavish, please, I can’t go back.”

Another round of knocking shakes the barrier. Blues eyes stare at you blankly, half-turned face pulled in visible confusion as Johnny’s jaw clenches. 

A voice echoes from under the door as the blacksmith once more lets his eyes linger down your battered frame; taking in cuts and the limp you carry. Muddy feet and water stained red. His hands twitch at his sides. 

“These are the guards of Lord Wilkin, would anyone in this home come to make him or herself known? It is of the utmost urgency!” You grow more fearful, head darting to find any other exit in this home but you land on nothing besides the windows. Your fingers shake with panic.

No, no, no.

Confusion gives way to deep concern.

A hand grasps your upper arm and you’re being hurried to the corner wall by the front door with fast feet and a firm, iron, grip. An accented voice mumbles quietly by your ear, “Keep quiet for me, Dearie. It’s alright, you let me take care of it.”

He stands you there and takes one last look at you, blinking, before grabbing the bear fur and pulling it above your head in a swift motion. There’s a quiet chuckle as you tense and slam a hand up to the brown material instinctually before Johnny darts around the corner and opens the door. You hold your breath and listen.

“Well, steamin’ Jesus, you bastards have any idea what time it is?! And in this damning weather, you show up at my door reamin’ on the wood like you’re the one who has to keep it anchored to the frame.” There’s a fast conversation of apologies and explanations that you can't catch above the yell of the rain.

“Does it look like I give a shite about a lost bride? Not my fuckin’ place to keep ‘er…I’ve seen nothing besides you…anyone out in this storm is as good as lost…” You listen and stay completely still, holding your breath as if it’s a prisoner in your lungs. 

You can hardly believe it. Why was this man…lying for you? A wounded stranger that had shown up at his doorstep in nothing but a tattered gown and babbling through tears. Anyone else would have turned you over—especially to your betrothed, Lord Wilkin. He owned these lands and held fiefs by all who lived here. Not a man to mess with, if your slit palm was anything to go by.

“Go on!” Johnny calls loudly, and the door closes a second later, the latch locking. There’s a moment of nothing, before the clearing of a throat and a soft call. “Well, they won’t be back, least.” 

He pops around the corner and smiles comfortingly. 

“Sorry about the yellin'.” You part your lips in innocent awe and you take a deep breath before speaking slowly.

“Why would you do that?” His expression tightens, crossing his arms over his chest. Under him, his large hips shift.

“Ya asked, didn’t you?” Your blank expression only serves to make him chuckle heartily, head shaking. Johnny hums, “I won’t press you about it all tonight, though I well should. You’re in no shape for it.” Cobalt eyes glance at the food before looking back up. “But I’m guessin’ you have a good enough reason to sneak off as I hear you did.” 

The very blood in your body heats with warmth.

You’re waved back over to the chair by the hearth. “Let’s get that injury looked at and I‘ll get you a change of clothes. You can take my place for the night,” eyes twinkle, “there’s no bed bugs in it, Dearie, knight’s honor.”

“What about iron shavings?” You call back softly, lips jerking up momentarily. The man’s actions had given you a large amount of trust in him. Johnny blinks in surprise at your joke, but a large grin grows moments later as you walk over delicately.

“Can’t say for certain, but I promise there’ll be no weapons under the covers. If anyone breaks in they’ll find my fists to be the first iron they get a touch of.” 

Your laugh bounces off the walls, hand coming up to cover your mouth in the picture of a cultured upbringing. Johnny chuckles in turn, looking smug. He liked your laugh, it seems.

“That was detestable, Mr. MacTavish.” You sit down, and Johnny kneels where he had been before—his hand outstretched where you carefully place your wounded limb. 

Immediately you feel the scrape of old burns and calluses, hands hardened by long hours of labor and intensive demands. You’re certain these are the hardest hands that have ever touched your skin, but it astounds you by how gently you’re being caressed and turned. People with far fairer flesh have never handled you like this. As if you would break apart with the barest of pressures.

Your breath stills as the blacksmith, with all the care of a butterfly, tilts your cut into the light and studies it, thumb absentmindedly brushing up and down your wrist. You hold back a shiver. 

“Ah,” he grumbles, still smiling yet more focused on your injury now. “It wasn’t that bad.”

You hum under your breath and try not to flinch when he wipes away a stain of mud near your wound. The blacksmith grunts to himself, gentle pressure at your flesh like the scuff of tree bark. But it wasn’t unpleasant. No, you thought, not at all. 

The two of you fall into a hole of soft silence, Johnny leaving for a moment to grab a bucket of water and bandages, saying in a mutter that he had plenty of the former to go around.

“Have a habit of burnin’ myself on my bad days, y’see,” he shimmies past, pausing before pulling back up the bear fur from where it had slightly slipped down your neck. “Comes with the job.”

Your face burns as he grabs what he needs, eyes stuck on your lap. You were astounded by the man’s ability to put away his obvious confusion for your care, how he was content to wait for answers until you were rested. It was honorable of him. 

Thinking back to Lord Wilkin’s guards at the door, your thighs shift over the chair. They’d be looking for you until they found you—be that days or months, it didn’t matter. The Lord wasn’t someone to let what he wanted get away from him. Like senseless beasts, your family would undoubtedly help. Your chest is stiff with worry. How would you get away with this?

The scene you’d made at the wedding wasn’t exactly subtle. 

Johnny comes back carrying a small bucket of fresh water, ladled from the wash basin, and a bundle of clean white cloth. 

“Alright,” he huffs, “let’s get this sorted, eh, Dearie?” The wound was very obviously a slice from a knife, anyone could see it. 

Johnny takes your hand once more and holds it in his palm, glancing up at you before dipping one of the cloths into the water and beginning to clean the cut. 

“Is it…bad, Mr. MacTavish?” You ask, worried about the likelihood of scarring. That would be the last thing you would want. The blacksmith looks up from where he pats the edges, the fabric already going red.

“Just Johnny, if it pleases you,” he smiles, hulking form seemingly all a facade to hide a cheeky and loyal Scot. “And…no, not bad. If you’re worried about a mark, don’t be—it’s deep but only at the beginning. A slight discoloration, no more.” His brows pull back, teasing, “You’ll not end up like me, at any rate.” Your shoulders ease back, and you let him work with a thankful comment and a giggle.

You watch and take in the way his jaw clenches and loosens as he works, completely focused as if he was fashioning an axe and not helping a complete stranger. 

“There’s no harm in scars,” you settle on saying, thinking over his last comment. Blues lock with your eyes, head tilting like a hound. Your face gains a slight heat to it and you stutter, “It’s just this one I’d rather not carry, Johnny.” Smiling warmly, you see the man’s lips part, his motions stalling for a moment as he looks up at you and blinks. “But yours suit you if…I’m allowed to say.”

It’s then that you realize that a slight flush has come to his cheeks, starting from under his stubble and leaking out to his cheeks like a red blaze—his gaze burrows deep with hidden fire that rivals the dancing shadows from the hearth.

Noticing, your own face burns all the hotter as the blacksmith quickly clears his throat, snapping his eyes away. Fingers once more cleaning your cut, he grunts out, neck now shifting to a blush of crimson, “...Thank you, Miss.” 

You stay in silence for the rest of the delicate process; the air heated and rolling with something. Electricity sparks when Johnny’s hands rub across yours, large enough to break you in an instant but acting like moss over a stone. You find yourself falling into a sort of comforted state you hadn’t felt in a long time—the fur over your shoulders and the tingle of skin-on-skin contact that expects nothing but offers all. 

“There,” Johnny says at last, and a part of you wants to cry when he pulls back, standing slowly. A firm but malleable wrapping is over your palm, a tiny knot tied in the middle to keep it from falling off. 

You bring it to your abdomen and blink, the other hand going to run over the material. 

“Thank you, Johnny. Truly. If I hadn’t found your homestead, I would have been lost.” The man rubs at the back of his neck, tunic bunched up by his elbows. 

“Gah,” after a second of bruising off the comment, he waves a hand while his wide chest puffs with pride. “It’s no trouble, really. Keeps me on my toes.”

Outside the storm continues to beat the walls, and the blacksmith can’t help but feel his eyes drawn to your dwarfed form under the large fur, the dripping water, and the weight of your gown. Based on the information from the guard, he had a decent story already forming in his head. 

A runaway bride and an angry Lord. By his own role as the fiefdom’s accomplished blacksmith, he should be turning you over. But your eyes had been flooded with tears when you’d pounded on his door; soaked in rain and mud—blood. No shoes. Freezing. 

You had looked so afraid, his heart had hurt for you, a strong need to shelter you stuck like a knife into his ribs. Johnny had seen much in his life, war, and death, but your desperation had stuck a cord in him. 

He’d keep you here with no charge, offer food and shelter, and do what he can to understand your situation. If not for simply hospitality sake, then because he had heard your laugh and had found it to be like a bird’s call in the wake of a dew-coated morning. Your soft skin like the wisps of fire from his forges. Your voice like a rippling spring. There was no way to describe the way he wanted to help besides to admit to himself that he was a good man. 

And, while cocky, the blacksmith had never once been self-absorbed.

He watches you rub at your damp cheek and starts out of whatever trance he had been sucked into. 

“I’ll…” Johnny rubs at his neck again, “I’ll get you that change of clothes, Bonnie. You just wait right here.” 

You stare at his back as he strides over, the fatigue washing back over you now that the adrenaline leaves in its stupendous sweep of heavy heartbeats. Anyone else would have given you up. Your face softens, seeing the quick dig of hands into the stack of clothes in the dresser. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” the man huffs, looking over his shoulder and shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Dearie, all I’ve got are my tunics and pants.” Black and pale cream linen is held up on display. 

“Oh,” you mutter, “I don’t mind,” your chuckle makes his lips twitch with care. “I would just prefer to be out of this…thing.” Your eyes glare down at the tattered gown, breathing softly. “Anything is perfect.”

“Well, then I hope you don’t mind the smell of fire,” Johnny hums. “Here you are.” As much as his insides twist to understand the story, making sure you don’t run a cold was more important. 

Your legs push you up and you walk over softly, gliding over the wooden floor to take up the articles and dig your fingers into the warm and easy texture, thin stitching, and cuffed wrists. There was a cut down the neck with a tied cord looped through, making up an ‘x’ pattern. 

“I would say thank you again,” you begin, “but I think you’ll be getting annoyed with how many times I’ve already said it.”

Johnny laughs, crossing his arms over his chest and setting his feet. 

“Ah, perhaps only a little.” Silence laps into a minute, and you study him with slow puzzlement, tilting your head. For a moment, the man wonders what he’s done. The blacksmith’s dark brows furrow, lips moving back. He looks down at the clothes again and starts with a wild blinking of his lids. 

“Oh! Hell’s bells, right,” Johnny walks to the other side of the room and swiftly turns his back to you with respect and a burning neck. He cringes. “Christ.” 

You laugh brightly, letting the fur fall to the floor as you undress and shimmy into the borrowed clothes. Your nose takes in the scents of metal and fire—fatty linseed oil used to protect a blade against corrosion. With the crackling fire, you slip the large tunic above your head and find that it falls heavily over you; far thicker than it seemed and very comfortable, ending at your lower thigh. 

But those scents make your head spin, rolling up the cuffs as you bring your nose to the collar and once more take it in with a slow breath. You hum and move, throwing the bear fur back atop your shoulders and grabbing your ruined garments from the floor before calling out to the rod-straight figure. 

“Johnny?” His arms lightly jerk, as if he’d been unfocused, but he doesn’t turn around. “Where would you like me to throw these?” 

The blacksmith delicately tilts his head to the side and utters with his eyes stuck to the side wall. “Bin by the door is just fine.” You look to the container holding scraps and other garbage to be taken out and drop the gown in before rubbing your cheek. 

Wide cobalt eyes stare at the clothes you wear heavily, jaw loose before he re-set it and averts his gaze. Johnny chuckles to ease himself and loops his thumbs into his waistband, embarrassed.

“Do you need anything else, then?” Your eyes blink with fatigue.

“No, I…I don’t think so.” Gazing at the home, your lips thin. Your family would have a heart attack if you even mentioned that you were staying the night at a complete stranger’s homestead. No protection, no way to beat off a blacksmith beyond a well-placed punch, and running from your betrothed. To say that you’d cause anything less than a heart attack would be generous. But Johnny felt different. Firmer in his emotions and intentions. Far more than the Lord. 

That was really all that matted. 

“Are you really sure this is okay,” you still ask hesitantly, gargantuan clothes atop your frame. Johnny is already nodding firmly.

“It’s my pleasure. I won’t be turnin’ you back out to the woods in a storm like this.” For whatever reason, the next words fall from his lips like an oath. “There’ll be no harm comin’ to ya as long as you stay under my roof.” 

Your hand burns with the memory of his gentle grip and your heart skips beats. You feel as if a great weight is lifted, even if only for a night. 

“Alright,” your words barely make it to air, and you grip the bear fur harder to stop yourself from kissing this man’s cheek, wanting to take him into a tight hug. 

Johnny takes a blanket from the bottom of his bed and shuffles over to the inlet below the shuddered window, sitting down while you slowly walk forward. 

“But, Little Lady,” you rest on the edge of the bed and look up to find him watching you intently, leaning back with a hand behind his head and the other on his stomach. The fire still crackles, the storm still dances outside, and the room is still tight with something you can’t put a name to. Like you’re caught in a trap of soft pillows and the scent of metal, you listen to the blacksmith with bated breath. “I’ll be needin’ answers…you hear?” 

Licking your lips, you nod tersely. “Tomorrow,” you agree. 

Johnny gazes off into your eyes, the runaway bride that had shown up on his doorstep and captured his attention like a bird made of a white wedding gown and panicked breath. He sneaks a peek down at your wrapped hand as you settle on his bed, burrowing into his furs and his covers—wearing his clothes. 

For some unknown reason, the smallest of blood stains makes his chest roll with bright anger. 

“Tomorrow,” he grunts through a tight jaw before he fights to turn his head away from you. It’s a long while before he sees any type of sleep, listening to the sound of your soft breath and the crackle of the fire.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

[windchesterluver]

Just you

Summary: dean fails to understand that you need more then a body guard, you need your boyfriend.

Notes

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings; arguments, mention of s€x



Dean slammed the door of the motel room as you walked in behind him. "You don’t think I care!?" he shouted, louder than intended. "Dean, don't," you pleaded, your exhaustion evident in every breath. You had said the wrong thing in the moment, accusing him of not caring. After that, he had remained silent for the rest of the drive back to the motel, with an iron grip on the wheel. Now, all that pent-up emotion was erupting.

He froze hearing the exhaustion in your voice, but he couldn’t let what you said slide. He cared way to much and took your accusation as a personal attack. “No dont bullshit me…” he tried to keep his voice low but found it hard to control his emotions “of course i care! I care way to much!” He stated firmly taking a step towards you unhappy with the distance. “Can you blame me? Youve barely said anything to me dean!” You exclaimed taking a step closer. Your chests less then three inches from eachother. “Thats what this is about? That im not good with words?” He questioned with clear annoyance. You scoffed crossing your arms “your being mean” you whispered under your breath unable to look him in the face. “Well look in the mirror sweetheart” he said coldly. Your head snapped back in his direction “excuse me!” You shouted in disbelief. “Come on, you've called me mean and uncaring, like i wouldn’t take a bullet for you,” he explained smacking his hands to his side.

“You dont get it!” Your accusation was full of anger, but your face displayed distraught, eyes fixated on your boyfriend. You had to turn around, unable to face him without the feeling of tears gathering in your eyes. His cold expression dropped as you turned your back to him, his chest pang with guilt. He never meant for things to go this far. “Enlighten me, im not a frick’n mind reader” he explained, still with a hint of annoyance. He grabbed your forearm, turning you to face him. He waited in silence, letting you gather your thoughts. Your lip quivered looking up at him, scared of how he might react to the truth.

“I dont want you to jumping infront of a gun, or slaying a demon…i want you to show me you care by talking to me…and we never talk” Dean's expression fell, his once intense glare now fading into a look of quiet hurt. Keeping loved ones safe was all he knew; it was his only way of loving, never knowing you needed more then that. “Just to talk?” He questioned almost not believing you. You crossed your arms and bit your lip to hold back tears as you nodded “just one conversation that dosnt lead to a hunt or fùcking…i just want you” you explained whipping a stray tear from your cheek. He swallowed the lump in his throat “i didnt know you wanted that” he said quietly, taking a step towards you.

“De..” you tried to protest, but your words were swallowed by his actions. Drawing you into his arms, holding you with a grip that conveyed more than words ever could. You relaxed against him “i don't need a hunter…i need my boyfriend” you mumbled into his shoulder. His hand found its way to your hair, smoothing over it softly “I'm sorry” he whispered in your ear with a wavering tone. He was filled with such anger towards himself that holding you was the only thing preventing him from breaking something.

“Can we talk now?” You asked softly, removing your head from his shoulder but remaining in his embrace. He nodded silently “I'm all ears.” He reassured you. A small smile appeared on your face “About you” his eyes narrowed “About me?” He repeated back. You silently nodded looking up at him with wondering eyes. “Anything Dean” you explained seeing how long it was taking him. “You know, when i was a kid, i wanted to be a fireman” he admitted with a small smile. Your eyes widened “Really?” He nodded “i thought rescuing people was pretty badass, oh and the fire trucks were sweet” he explained staring into your amazed eyes. You chuckled at his comments “You’d be a great firefighter Dean” his smile dropped slightly “Yeah, maybe in another life”

“This.” You mumbled quietly. Deans head tilted not understanding what you meant “i like this.” You restated, moving back and taking his hands in yours. He smiled at your words, finally understanding. He liked. This too, just being here with you, holding you, talking with you. He felt like such a fool for not realizing sooner. “Yeah, me to…” he spoke softly bringing his thumb under your chin, tilting it up slightly so he could connect his lips to yours. His hand traced down to your hips, pushing you against him as his lips continued to graze yours.

“Your everything” you breathed against him. He pulled back, taking all of you in. “But let's not fûck tonight” you smiled placing your hands on his chest. He chucked leaning his head back “How dos dinner and a long late-night talk sound” he suggested raising his eyebrows. You smiled widely, reaching your arms around his shoulders to bring your lips back to his. “Id love that”

[saeist]

my personal touya headcanons (yes i will make full on fics n drabbles with these in mind):

CHRONIC manspreader. literally takes up a whole love couch with the way he spreads his legs

can drive but gets motion sick easily so counting on him for a 2+ hour roadtrip? yeah pull over we’re switching seats

damaged hair from the constant dyeing but that won’t stop this baddie from dyeing it jet black every 2 weeks

only runs on 4 separate hours of sleep and snores like a truck. (u’ll need earplugs)

surprisingly tidy in regards to his room only because rei comes and checks their rooms and if its all messy they’ll get their asses whooped

doesn’t smoke cigarettes BUT has a box of disposables/juuls hidden in his sock drawer (GOD FORBIDS rei finds his stash)

^ in addition to that, contrary to popular belief his plug is unironically natsuo..

loves icy berry related related flavors too LMFAO

is supposed to be a junior in college on paper but since he keeps dropping and switching majors, he’s technically still a freshman

^ is currently taking chemical engineering (took business ad, computer science, finance, nursing (💀) and literally god knows what. his college majors that he dropped is between him, endeavor and god now)

since he’s competitive as fuck and is a perfectionist, took up multiple sports and extra curriculars growing up

prefers soggy cereal

drinks a lot but lightweight as fuck. after one bottle he’s out 💡 but that won’t stop him from drinking more!

knows how to braid girls hair thanks to fuyumi

cats warm up to him on the street cus he’s warm n shit

prettiest resting face but makes the ugliest faces known to man just for the sake of it (still pulls)

doesn’t approach girls, girls approach him

scares them away when he’s all like 😐🧍🏻

hooded eyelids + long eyelshes (both top and bottom)

genuinely starts tweaking when people say he got endeavor’s eyes solely bc hes a momma’s boy..

grew up being SPOILED rotten amongst his siblings so he doesn’t take no for an answer and will actually start stomping his feet

once he opens his mouth however.. everyone is gonna know he’s endeavors son fr 😓

keigo is his closest irl friend but tomura is who he considers as his best friend even if they’re only internet friends

has a basic pc set up and plays valorant fortnite and roblox religiously

shits on children especially shoto and his two friends

once babysat the three of them in exchange for concert tickets

did i mention he has an indie rock emo band he formed when he was in high school? yeah

bassist obviously but sometimes he plays drums

will scare rei out of her wits when he would just magically appear on their couch when he’s supposed to be at his university

his room is in the attic

dresses like hes going to an opium concert but rei makes him change before they leave to go to church so ultimately he dresses up like a cottagecore mf but with piercings and box dye jet black hair

almost broke natsuo’s hand when he first got his nose piercing

embodies the trope of “best friends older brother”

has a soft spot for grandmas and will help them cross the road each time

picks up shoto from school with his beat up hand me down car. literally one slam on the break away from breaking (endeavor gave it to him as his 18th birthday present)

sometimes ends up driving shoto’s friends home too if shoto insists (more like demands)

will also intentionally go through a drive-thru and the kids in the backseat are expecting him to ask them what they want but touya just gets whatever the fuck he was craving, pays and leaves

“we got food at home!” - touya to a enraged shoto

also sometimes touya is shoto’s chaperone or the “parent” that goes to those parent teacher meetings when its time for get shotos report card and will deliberately say shoto has failing grades when shoto is part of the honor roll just to again, fuck with him

shamelessly flirts with the girls natsuo brings home just to fuck with him (he gets sucker punched later that night bc at the end of the day, natsuo is bigger than that man 😭)

when all the todosibs are fighting, nobody listens to him even if he’s the eldest. they all end up ganging up on him (fuyumi doesn’t stop shit, in fact she instigates further. she don’t play)

says he hates winter and likes summer more but whenever its summer time if he could he would live inside the freezer

hates the feeling of sweating 😮‍💨

sometimes goes on days without showering only popping a lil deodorant here and there so rei forces him to shower whenever he just so happened to pass by her

cooks decent meals but shoto hates it and intentionally makes gagging noises whenever he finds out touya was in charge of cooking that night

hates doing the dishes and fools shoto into doing it for him

when he goes on dates, he steals endeavors credit card and just pays for everything. will probably even take you to nobu just to do so

attempts to blame natsuo when endeavor caught on since his card decline at the supermarket but unfortunately touya cannot lie to save his own life even if he tried

OH! talks MAD game in bed but has never touched a woman in his life.. painfully a virgin. u have to teach this man PLEASEE 🙏

likes yeat and carti

basically teenager borderline adult core

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Joel deals with his jealousy as Tommy and you get more serious.]

PART TWO to my last reblog!!

Smut, drama, infidelity, angst

“Did he make you cum?” His sudden question catching you off guard. His eyes darkened as he waited for your response.

Sarah’s mother showed up the next morning to take Sarah to school since Joel had to leave early with Tommy. When she arrived she noticed Joel acting stranger than usual, he was quiet not making eye contact with anyone, he seemed like he was in a bad mood.

“Woke up on the wrong side of the bed?” She whispered leaning toward him making him look up.

“Just gettin’ ready for work”

Tommy showed up and poured himself coffee yawning as he greeted Sarah’s mother.

“Well you missed the show last night, these two gettin’ locked in the basement”

“Who?”

“My brother and my girl” Tommy raised his brows as her mother quickly turned to Joel who kept himself with his back to both of them drinking his coffee.

“Oh really?” She raised a brow.

“Mhm, but it wasn’t for long” he continued.

“You ready to go or ya gonna keep yappin’” Joel uttered before taking another sip from his mug.

“I’m ready, let’s go” Tommy grabbed his bag as Joel walked out yelling out to his daughter that he would see her that night and not saying a word to her mother.

“I wanted my dad to take me to school” Sarah came out the room as she grabbed her backpack.

“Well we all can’t get what we want, can we?” her mother snapped at her before walking to the bathroom and slamming the door shut. Sarah didn’t understand why her mother had returned if she acted like she couldn’t stand being a mother.

As usual, Tommy would see you in the morning on the porch while Joel got the truck ready. Packing his stuff in the back he watched Tommy greet you with a kiss. He failed miserably at trying to keep his eyes off you, his eyes blazing with envy as he watched your lips touch his once more before Tommy walked back to the truck. Joel looked away before he could notice, walking to the front of the truck he looked up and locked eyes with you for just a moment before you quickly turned and walked inside.

Joel drove in silence, his expression rather serious as he kept his eyes on the road.

“You got back in late” he suddenly spoke, thinking about how his brother left with you and didn’t return till nearly three in the morning.

“What are you monitoring me now, dad?” Tommy chuckled but Joel quickly became lost in his thoughts thinking about what you two were doing so late together. Thinking about what you had said the night before in the basement.

His brother fucking you.

The thought making him breathless with anger before realizing Tommy was calling his name.

“Joel! You listening?!”

“What?” He snapped looking over at him, the look in his eyes weirding out Tommy. It was rare when he saw his brother angry to this extent, yet he didn’t understand what was triggering it.

“Nothin’” Tommy uttered before turning back to the road as Joel pressed his foot on the gas and continued driving.

Little did he know, you and Tommy hadn’t slept with each other that night. Instead you cuddled watching a movie and ended up falling asleep in his arms. The guilt still eating at you as you continued to think over and over what Joel admitted to you the night before.

After all this time.

After all this fucking time.

Now when you were giving his brother a chance, now when you were getting to know the sweet charming man his brother was, Joel admitted something to you that you would’ve killed to know earlier.

It didn’t matter, it didn’t change anything. Joel forgot about any history the two of you had when Sarah’s mother showed up. He forgot how much the two of you had in common, how twice for Sarah’s birthday you baked her a cake when Joel called that he would be running late from work. Hell, how you baked him a cake and helped Sarah surprise him with a gift. He forgot about it all…

“It’s Friday night brother, how about a double date with your lady and mine at the bar?” Tommy hesitantly approached his brother at work hoping he’d be in a better mood.

“No, uh, I don’t want Sarah alone and-“

“I’ll call the sitter and set it all up, come on, it’ll be fun. Cheer up a bit” Joel remained silent giving in to the plan.

That night you wore a brown milkmaid dress with a pair of heels you forgot you even owned. You were excited to spend time with Tommy while also secretly excited to get a rise out of Joel. Maybe you were being immature but the more you thought of how he treated you that very day he cut ties, it all made sense to you.

Meeting them at the front of their house you walked out of your door looking out to see if they were there. Joel being the first one to look up spotted you walking in their direction, his eyes drifting down to your body, noticing just how well the dress complimented you.

“Jesus-“ he whispered to himself before quickly looking away. How the fuck was he suppose to ignore you all night?

“Tommy” you poked a finger at his back making him quickly turn and immediately get taken back by how you looked.

“Look at you, you look gorgeous, baby” you smiled before all four of you got in the truck.

Sitting in the back with Tommy, Joel was given the perfect view of you through his rear view mirror. You could feel his eyes on you while Tommy looked out the window, Sarah’s mother complaining about things she had to do for her daughter, Joel was over it ignoring her. Tommy unexpectedly turned around and kissed you making you smile, Joel bit the inside of his cheek and looked away.

Once getting to the bar, Tommy was quick to order more drinks which you were more than excited to try to relieve the bit of anxiety you felt. The night continued and you found yourself drinking more than you had planned yet you felt just right.

“You wanna take another shot?” Tommy leaned over to you with the drink in his hand.

“Sure” you laughed before the two of you took the shot together.

“Oh that one was strong” you made a sour face as Joel watched with furrowed brows. Joel had never seen you drink that much before. Apart of him wondering if you were doing it on purpose just to get under his skin. Whatever you were doing, it was working.

“We should dance” you excitedly turned to Tommy who bit his lip with excitement and got up with you to the dance floor.

“What the hell are we even doing here?”

Sarah’s mother complained while Joels eyes subtly followed you.

“I came to have a drink” He responded without turning to her.

“And you have to figure out something with your daughter cause I’m not gonna be taking her to school everyday” Joel raised a brow as she sucked her teeth. She wanted nothing to do with being a mother. All he heard her do was complain about any little thing she had to do for Sarah.

“Did you hear me, Joel?”

“You can leave if you want, what the hell was the point of you comin’ back?” he responded bluntly before chugging his drink not caring the way Sarah’s mother felt.

He had enough. He knew she wasn’t for him, he knew too late in time that she wasn’t right for Sarah. Angrily she got up and grabbed her bag leaving the bar. Joel watched as you danced with Tommy, your arms wrapped around him, his hands running down your waist. Joel brushed his hand over his lips and looked away, the sight was too much to bare. After a few minutes he could hear the sound of your laughter coming closer before he looked up.

“That was fun” you sighed as you slid into the booth.

“Hey where’s your lady?” Tommy asked as he sat beside you. Joel simply shrugged and took another sip of his drink.

“That’s done” his words making you look up at him. For some reason hearing he was no longer with Sarah’s mother bought you some kind of happiness.

“Well forget her, I never liked her for you anyway” Tommy responded before he took a shot. Just as he did you and Joel looked at each other for a moment before you quickly looked away.

“Im gonna go get us some more drinks, I’ll be right back” Tommy leaned in towards you, before you could say anything he left you and Joel alone together. Uncomfortably you swallowed looking away as Joel stared you down, the jealousy in him rising the more he thought about what his brother had told him earlier. You staying the night with him the night before, Joel hated the thought of it.

“We should get going soon” you spoke casually trying to find something to speak of.

“Wouldn’t wanna keep you from another night with Tommy” he responded with sarcasm.

“What was that?” You raised a brow as he leaned forward.

“You and Tommy…ya know I ain’t surprised you already slept with him, that’s just what girls like you do. I guess Sarah’s mother was right about you after all” Joel letting his anger and drinking take over, allowing himself to insult you in a way he never had.

“Excuse me? Girls like me?” Was he calling you a whore? Before you could respond Tommy showed up beside you making you quickly look away.

“One more drink before we go” Tommy smiled looking down at you.

“Yes…but I need to use the restroom” you quickly stood up almost stumbling as Tommy caught you by your waist.

“You alright?”

Joel almost stood up for a split second to help you before catching himself. Even through the anger he couldn’t help his immediate response.

“Yes….I’ll be right back” you quickly made your way to the bathroom as Joel glanced at you with the corner of his eye watching as you hid your face.

“I hope she invites me back to her place again tonight” Tommy grinned.

“Im sure you’ll get lucky again, don’t worry” Joel uttered low.

“I didn’t get lucky last night,-“ Joel quickly looked up not expecting what he was told.

“She doesn’t move like that, it ain’t what I’m used to but I like it. It’ll happen when it’s suppose to”

A part of him relieved to know nothing had ever happened while the other half of him feeling like a dick for what he said to you. He knew he fucked up, his jealousy getting the best of him, he regretted what he had said. You stepped out of the restroom looking at Joel from where you were. You couldn’t believe the audacity he had to speak to you in such a way, you knew you didn’t deserve it.

“We should get going” you showed up to the table making both men look up.

“What’s a matter, don’t want your drink first?” Tommy pushed the shot towards you.

“No…I’ve had enough” Tommy shrugged and took the shot before he stood up and walked out with you with Joel right behind. Joel’s eyes following Tommy’s hand move lower and lower down your back.

He couldn’t fucking stand it.

The three of you too intoxicated to drive you took a cab as Tommy assured his brother he’d pick up the truck in the morning.

Sitting in the back of the cab next to Tommy you looked out the window thinking about what Joel had said to you until Tommy’s voice distracted you.

“You wanna stay with me tonight?” Tommy’s question making his brother look up into the rear view mirror from the passenger seat. The thought of seeing any more of Joel in that moment only irritated you but you knew him seeing you with Tommy would bother him more and so you agreed to stay over.

Once you all walked inside you quietly sat on the couch with Tommy and watched some tv. Joel ate in the kitchen attempting to sober himself up and slowly he did. Silently watching you two as you both were distracted with the tv when the phone rang making you look up.

“I gotta pick up Sarah!” Joel called out as he hung up the phone.

“Ain’t she sleepin’ over her friends?” Tommy asked.

“That’s what I thought- I’ll be right back” you watched as he walked out and slammed the door as you stood quietly until Tommy turned to you.

“You feel ok?” He asked caressing the side of your face. You nodded just as he grabbed your face and began to kiss you. Yet, somehow you still managed to think of what Joel had said to you. It didn’t sound like him at all. The anger towards him driving you to wrap your arms around Tommy eagerly . His hands touching every part of you he could grab as he kissed your neck and began to undress you.

Joel drove tensely not liking that he left you two alone, not liking that he hadn’t apologized for what he said. His mind racing when Sarah once again called him and told him she didn’t need to be picked up. With a sigh he turned back around and headed home.

By the time Joel returned he noticed the lights were out and no one was in the living room. He walked towards the kitchen when the sound of your sudden moan made him stop in his tracks. Joel froze in place as another moan echoed from down the hall. It wasn’t the first time he overheard his brother sleeping with a woman but this time it wasn’t just any woman…it was you. Angrily he grabbed the bottle of whiskey off the counter and began to drink it. A rage he never felt before settling within him when there was a sudden silence.

Tommy gave you a pair of shorts and a t shirt of his as you stood aside watching him put on a shirt. You couldn’t believe you just had sex with him, having sex with him out of pure anger against Joel. It didn’t feel right.

“I’m gonna go use the restroom” you spoke low as he finished cleaning up before you quietly walked out.

Just as you closed the door behind you, you looked up to find Joel standing by the kitchen. You gasped in shock as he took a step forward, you noticed a half empty bottle of whiskey in his hand.

“I…I didn’t know you were here” you whispered as he looked down at you. The sight of you wearing his brothers t shirt, your bare legs in his view. He didn’t say a word but the silence was very loud. Pure pain in his eyes he took another chug of his drink, the sounds of your moans still echoing in his mind before he abruptly walked away and slammed the door loudly making you jump. Anxiously, you ran to the bathroom with tears in your eyes. You didn’t understand why you felt this way, you were suppose to be angry with him, he was the one who did wrong, not you.

“I’m so fucking stupid” you whispered to yourself just as you heard Tommy come out of the room. Trying to compose yourself you washed your face and freshened yourself up before walking back out. Not wanting to run into him again you quickly went back to the room and lay in bed.

The next morning you dreaded leaving the room, afraid to find Joel in the living room. Tommy nudged you playfully as you got dressed before kissing your cheek.

“What’s wrong?” He asked pulling you against him.

“Nothing, just tired”

“Yeah, we got in pretty late. Come on, let’s go” he took you by the hand as you took a deep breath and followed him out.

There was Joel sitting at the head of the table having breakfast when he looked up at you both, adjusting himself in his seat.

“Where’s Sarah?” Tommy asked.

“Gonna pick her up in the evening” Joel uttered low without looking at his brother. He couldn’t bare to look him in the eye, not yet.

“Ain’t you late for work” Joel took a sip from his cup as Tommy raised a brow.

“It’s Sunday- oh shit!” Tommy went running through the living room grabbing his bag.

“I forgot I told those two guys I’d meet with them today, and I gotta get the truck- fuck!” You watched as he paced around the house before grabbing his keys and going for the door.

“Tommy?” You screamed out confused.

“I’m sorry baby, it’s a big contract, have some breakfast I’ll call you as soon as I’m done”

“But Tommy-“ the door slammed leaving you and Joel alone together. Awkwardly you stood as he looked down at his paper, his broad shoulders rose high with each deep breath. He looked pissed, you didn’t know what to say.

His knee jumping under the table the more he thought about it before you finally decided to say something.

“You know, it’s not fair for you to act this way” you hesitantly spoke as he suddenly stood up grabbing his plate without looking your way and walked to the kitchen.

The loud sound of his the dishes hitting the sink making you jump before he turned to you.

“It’s not fair?” He spoke low as he walked towards you making you step back.

“I had to hear my brother fucking you last night in my own house, your moans so god damn loud I heard it the second I walked through the door” he continued walking towards you until he backed you against the wall.

“Well-“ you took a deep breath not expecting him to have been so blunt.

“You did say it was easily expected of me…you know girls like me?” Joel regretted saying that to you knowing damn well he didn’t feel that way about you.

“I know he never slept with you before last night, he told me”

“Oh great, so now that he did I guess he will report that to you and brag about it-“

“Did he make you cum?” His sudden question catching you off guard. His eyes darkened as he waited for your response.

“Joel-“

“Did he? Did he give you what you were lookin’ for?” You were speechless, your lips parting yet you couldn’t make a sound. Joel didnt take his eyes off you, his heart pounding hard in his chest.

“I’m not having this conversation with you-“

“Tell me, or are you afraid-“

“What the hell would I be afraid of?!” You yelled back just as he roughly pulled you against him and kissed you muffling your shocked whimper. His hand brushing up the back of your head grabbing a hand full of hair, pulling at it as you smacked his chest before he pulled his lips away. Still, he held you close forcing you to look up at him as he tugged at your hair. As much as you looked like you were trying to stop him, you wanted him to do anything but stop.

“What are you doing?” You whispered as he looked down at you. Joel knew right there he needed to have you, he needed to feel you with whatever time he had alone with you. Carrying you on top of the closest thing near by, he sat you on the edge of his desk and quickly began unbuttoning his pants with one hand. You didn’t stop him, wanting it just as much as him you pulled your dress up above your thighs watching as he pulled out his hard member.

He was ready for you, panting you quickly pulled down your underwear and let it fall to the floor. Joel placed himself between your legs and spit in his hand, his eyes looking into yours as you felt his fingers touch you and make sure you were ready for him. Placing his cock at your entrance he slid himself in you as you both breathed into each other’s lips. He wasted no time in moving at a steady pace pushing himself as deep as you’d take him. Grabbing onto him you kissed him passionately, moaning against his lips wanting to feel every part of him. Throwing your head back you moaned as a wave of pleasure burst within you. He kissed your neck moving his mouth slowly up against your ear.

“This is mine, you hear me?” He spoke breathlessly as he continued to fuck you. His cock filling you up more than his brothers had, stretching you with each thrust. Unexpectedly he carried you off the table, taking you to the couch. He sat down with his hands on your hips as you took over and began to ride him.

“Oh shit baby…just like that” he squeezed your ass as you moaned bouncing on him when you suddenly heard the truck pull up in the driveway.

“Oh my God Joel-“ you froze.

“No don’t stop” he slouched down on the couch and began thrusting upward.

“Joel- he’s there-“ you panted but Joel wouldn’t stop. His eyes squeezing shut as he bounced you on his cock and came inside you. Joel cried out deeply, holding you in place as his pelvis jerked beneath you.

“Oh my god” you whispered looking down at Joel, your hands on his chest balancing yourself when you heard the car door open.

“He’s coming!” Quickly jumping off Joel you ran to the bathroom as he struggled to get up catching his breath.

“Tell him I left!” You screamed from the bathroom hoping Tommy would leave fast. Joel quickly dressed himself wiping himself wit paper towels noticing how drenched in sweat he was.

“Shit” he whispered before noticing your underwear still on the floor. Quickly Joel picked it up and put it in his pocket just as the door unlocked and Tommy walked in.

“I forgot the damn paperwork” he rushed inside not even taking a look at Joel. Rushing past him, Tommy grabbed the folders off the very desk he had just finished fucking you on.

Tommy so distracted with being late to the meeting it slipped his mind to ask about where you were and he simply left. Joel waited for the truck to pull out and called for you.

“He’s gone!”

Hesitantly you came out of the bathroom still in shock with what had just happened.

“I have to go” you awkwardly tried to walk past him until he caught you by your arm slowly pulling you to him.

“Ya don’t have to-“

“No” you pushed him away.

“Why the hell did we just do that?! Tommy doesn’t deserve that”

Joel looked down at you not knowing what to say as he knew you were right.

“I guess you were right after all” you chuckled sarcastically.

“About what?” He looked down at you confused.

“Girls like me right, now I really am a whore-“

“Don’t say that” he pulled you against him hard.

“You know damn well I ain’t mean it when I said that” he whispered.

“Doesn’t matter, cause it’s true. And…and-“

“What?”

“I have to get a morning after pill now”

“I’ll get it for ya”

“No! Just leave it. Look I gotta go” you pulled your arm back and quickly ran out to your home next door.

Your thoughts running a mile a minute you rushed inside and locked your door. Heading straight for the shower you let your dress fall to the floor as you began to cry in guilt…in confusion. Never had you felt like such a shitty human being.

That same day you ran some errands and noticed Tommy had left you a couple messages. Of course, talking about the night before, telling you how he wanted you even more. His messages making you sick to your stomach you didn’t respond.

Out at the pharmacy you picked up a plan B rushing home hoping you wouldn’t run into Tommy or Joel. With your luck, just as you pulled up Tommy was right outside.

“Hey babe,” he walked up to you as you got out of the car.

“You alright? I called you a few times”

“Yeah sorry I just-“ you dropped your bag on the floor making the after pill come out of the bag. Tommy furrowed his brows as he picked it up from the ground and suddenly chuckled.

“Baby, we were careful. We used a condom, I don’t think you need to take this” your skin hot from anxiety you awkwardly took back the pill.

“Yeah…I just…I’m sometimes paranoid and I-“

“Alright, it’s ok. I understand” Tommy smiled making you feel ever shittier. Why would he expect you were taking the pill because his brother had just came in you. You smiled and began to walk to your door as he followed.

“Why don’t you come join us for dinner-“

“I don’t think I can” you responded anxiously trying to unlock your door as fast as you could.

“Please baby, I really enjoy spending time with you” he left you speechless. What the hell else could you possibly say?

“Sure” you whispered. Tommy happily leaned in and kissed you before walking back to his house.

Tommy walked in to his brother fixing something beneath the sink for the third time that week.

“I tell ya, I’ve grown tired of fixing this damn thing” Joel lay on the floor as Tommy laughed.

“Well maybe you’re not even fixing it, that’s why it’s always broken” Tommy teased.

“Haha. Hey do me a favor, the laundry’s been sitting in the washer for twenty minutes now, mind puttin’ em in the dryer for me?”

“Yeah sure” Tommy went on to walk to the laundry room as he informed his brother that you would be coming for dinner.

“You ok with y/n comin’ for dinner again right?” Joel froze and cleared his throat.

“She’s comin’?” He asked surprised that you didn’t find an excuse to not show up.

“Yeah,” Tommy began moving the wet clothes into the dryer when he noticed something sticking out of his brother’s pocket.

“Well, alright but I ain’t cookin’” Joel responded as Tommy grabbed Joel’s pants and pulled out the black material that was sticking out only to see it was the same underwear you had on the night before.

Tommy didn’t move, in disbelief he stared down at the underwear not knowing what to even think.

It couldn’t have been…at least he hoped not.

But what other explanation would there be for this?

“Tommy you hear me?” He suddenly realized his brother was still talking in the background and quickly put the underwear away in his pocket.

“Yeah, yeah I hear you” he called back out to him. Tommy had no idea how he was going to deal with the situation but he decided to first move in silence and see how the evening was going to go with you around Joel…you had no idea what was in store….

[loviingpedri]

tripling the fun -jude and jobe bellingham

prompt: three best friends take over the house by babysitting the bellingham boys’ two nephews and niece.

pt.2 here

bellinghams & fem!reader platonic friendship

warnings: grammar issues, all characters are fictional (except jude and jobe ofc)

click to help palestine

credits to owners for all images

knocking on the door, anticipation grew.

you have grown up with jude and jobe, considering your parents and their parents were very close friends.

you practically were like their sister. you did everything with them. you were there at their biggest accomplishments or lowest levels.

the door opened to jude and jobe’s aunt, ready for dinner. recently, the bellingham boys recently had a new addition to their family, a little baby nephew. the parents had 3 kids, and one still being about 6 months old, it was a major hassle. they needed a little break, some time for themselves.

who else better to call? the famous trio!

the parents trusted you and the brothers very much. trust me, the babies were in good hands. (might be delusional, but we’ll see!)

“oh my goodness, thank you guys for coming.” the mom hugged all of you. giving you a little peek on the cheek.

suddenly, jude and jobe’s uncle appeared behind her. “you’re here! thank you guys. come in.” stepping into the house, you were met with cold air.

“i see the kids really love this house.” you spoke with a smile as you noticed toys were scattered around the floor. ending your sentence, jobe nearly tripped over a toy truck.

catching himself as you were frightened for him, the three of you burst into a laughter.

“okay mate, it’s not that funny.” jobe said while pushing the truck away from his path.

“jobe, how do you not see a bright yellow and green truck?” jude was dying from laughter.

“i’m really grateful that you took this opportunity. it has been quite awhile since my husband and i have gone out.”

suddenly, a huge commotion was made. all eyes going to the stairway, you could see a little boy about the age of 6 running down the stairs in a little dinosaur onesie.

“there’s my little guy!” the boy ran into jude’s arms into a tight hug.

“i knew it! i knew you were coming! i heard your voice.”

“did you really?” jude fixed his onesie and gave him a little pat on the back.

then, you heard a door slam. staring at the stairs once again, you could see a 4 year old girl in a pink princess dress with a tiara and wand, strutting down with a bright smile (and one missing tooth).

“all hail the princess.” jobe spoke as she slowly walked down with her head held up high. smiles appeared on everyone’s faces, except her brother’s. she only earned an eye roll from him.

finally reaching downstairs, you curtsied to her as jude and jobe did a little bow.

breaking character, she did not hesitate to run to jobe. giving him the biggest hug he has probably ever been given.

“i think the baby is still asleep. the formula is already prepped since he should be waking up soon. we have to get going, good luck guys!” quickly grabbing her purse and getting the hell out of there with her husband, it was time to finally have some fun and bonding times.

“alright kiddos, what should we do today?” jude put down his nephew and immediately patting his head for reassurance.

“we should build a castle!” jobe, also putting down the niece, agreed.

“what kind of castle?”

“castles are for losers!” her big brother snarled at her.

“now, dinosaurs may be big and strong, but they are certainly not rude.” you bent down to his level. he crossed his arms, but unexpectedly, you started tickling him.

“tickle attack!” jude yelled as everyone was tickling the dinosaur and princess.

all laughter came to a quick stop. cries of a baby were echoing throughout the house. jude and jobe were no professionals for caring for a child under 1, therefore both synchronized to look at you for help.

and to be honest, you wanted to hold that baby forever. your motherly instincts kicked in. running up the stairs, you could not wait. meeting the little guy at just 2 months old, he was probably the most adorable baby you’ve ever seen (maybe because he looks a little like baby jude, but we’re gonna ignore that fact).

slowly and gently opening the door, you were met with a baby with a small tear falling down his cheek, but having the brightest smile as soon as he saw you. your heart melted.

“aren’t you the cutest,” you picked him up and could see his chubby face and rolls on his arms. “the baby fever is really kicking in.”

wiping the little tear, you placed his head on your shoulder as you walked down the stairs. putting your hand on his semi-bald head to create a shield just in case, jude and jobe lit up to seeing him.

crowding the little one, jude took him into his arms as you prepared the milk. in the kitchen, you were met with a little princess eating a sugar cookie (jobe couldn’t say no to her).

“hello your royal highness.” you gave a smile to her as you grabbed a little bottle.

“hi y/n. how’s it going?”

“it’s going great! how’s your cookie?”

“it’s good. you should be a mom.”

the statement created a pause for you. the measuring cup filled with formula almost fell on the counter.

“sorry ma’am, but what?”

“you should be a mom.”

“oh no thank you, it is definitely not for me.”

“well you definitely need a boyfriend. i have one! his name is james, he’s 6. i like them older.”

“hold on, you’re talking about your brother’s friend?”

“yep! that james. he’s so dashing. you know you should get with jude.” a frown appeared on your face. kids are full of creative ideas, but this was not on your bingo card.

“i really appreciate your feedback, but i need time to review this information.” jude suddenly appeared in the kitchen, giving you a scare.

“what are y’all talking about?”

in panic, you shouted “nothing!” which created high suspicion. the princess got off the chair after finishing the cookie, and walking off with jude.

finishing on making the bottle, you weren’t sure on what you were about to see, but it was definitely a sight.

jude and jobe bellingham were in pink and purple tutu’s and tiaras. you gasped at the sight.

“y/n, please don’t laugh.” jobe pleaded, sensing his embarrassment already.

“who said i was gonna laugh?” you picked up the baby trying to hide the fact, you were gonna laugh. sitting on the couch to feed him, the boys were being ordered around.

“alright, what’s next to protect the precious princess?”

“it is i! the knight! and i have come to destroy this kingdom!” the once dinosaur jumped out from the hallway holding a fake sword and shield.

the princess let out a tiny scream.

“uncle jude! protect the castle now!” jude nodded in agreement as he picked up a fake sword and play fighting with the knight. tutu’s were dropping and tiaras were falling.

“meanwhile you, uncle jobe, you should totally dance with me.” hiding your smile with the bottle, jobe didn’t really have a choice.

the house was chaotic. a ballerina and knight were battling it out, jobe and the princess were turning and spinning. jobe even had a little purple magic wand as his prop for his dance recital. you were glad you could lay back with a baby who did not give any trouble.

the fun continued to grow as the night went.

[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 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

[pedrostylez]

I’m Here When You Need Me

Joel Miller x f!reader One Shot

Warnings: Angst, feelings, longing, cheating on the readers part, Joel just wants you to be happy, high key hating reader’s husband, age gap mentioned (Joel is in his 50’s, no reader age), insecurities, mentions of body and working out, insecurities, nipple and breast play, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected piv sex ( wrap it people), oral f recieving, I think that’s it

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: this has had minimal edits and I’m posting from my phone so don’t be judging me!!!! Heed the warnings. I hope you guys enjoy 😊

He’s at it again, dreaming of you wrapped around him. Soft to the touch, warm and needy, just how he likes you.

The telltale sound of his phone wakes him from the comfort of his dreams, vibrating through the pillow to his ear. When he squints his eyes to see your name on the screen, his heart freezes for a moment. You don’t typically call, so it must be important. “Hello?” He sounds groggy, and he hears your pause before a deep sigh. He knows you feel bad for calling him, even though you knew he would be asleep. “What is it, baby?”

“Don’t call me that.” You hiss, breath coming quickly through the receiver, the sound of your teeth biting at your nail.

“Are you alone?” He asks, now sitting up in bed. He’s used to a rogue text here and there, asking if he’s home so that you can slip out while your husband is asleep, or at work. He’s never texted you first, never been the initiator except for the once when he first spotted you in the bar. But a phone call in the middle of the night? Unheard of.

“Yeah.” You sigh, frustration clear in your voice.

He frowns, rubbing at his chin and shuffling out of bed. “Door’s open, baby.” It slips out, and he winces, figuring you’ll correct him again. He can’t help it.

You don’t say anything about the nickname, just give him a quiet goodbye and an ETA.

He doesn’t bother to remake the bed, doesn’t bother to clean up anything. He used to; used to make sure all the dishes were done and that the floor was swept for you. He was embarrassed, a 50 something year old man still living alone and had somehow gotten your attention. He wanted to leave a good impression.

But after enough times of you storming in, how you would grab around the collar of his shirt and thrust yourself at him to feel something, to distract you from whatever issues you were having with him, he stopped worrying.

A habit he shouldn’t get into, but he knew you would come around again and again.

Joel flicks on the outside light, looking out the curtain briefly before sitting on the couch and turning on the TV. He keeps the sound low, listening for the sound of your truck to pull up next to his. His pants are low, riding just below the elastic band of his underwear, loose and warm under the flannel.

He sighs, switching the channel and scratching at his incoming beard. He doesn’t know what mood you’ll be in, what you’ll want, but trying to wake himself up after a long day on the job is all he can do to prepare for you.

The sound of your door slamming has him turning his head, listening to your sneakers shuffle on his brick pathway. The pause at his door, where he swears he can hear you take a deep breath before twisting the knob and letting yourself in.

Your hair, swept to one side and down, loose, wild, has his mouth upturned out of habit. He loves you wild. “Hey.”

“What’s going on?” He asks quietly, letting you shut his front door and slip your sneakers off. He doesn’t dare move, afraid that he might scare you off by being too concerned. You’re in your own set of pajamas, loose shirt and flannel pants with a sweatshirt zipped in the front.

When you sit beside him, you lean into him with your head on his chest. One, two, three big breaths leave your mouth as he wraps an arm around you. It gives you the courage to say what you came here for. “I don’t think he loves me.”

Joel’s heart sinks, the sound of your voice defeated. His arm squeezes around you, looking down to the crown of your head. “No, baby that’s not true.” It slips out again, and he closes his eyes to try and recenter himself. Stop calling her baby.

“He won’t even look at me anymore.” You say again, tilting your head to look Joel in the eye. You’ve accepted it, eyes not shimmering with sadness. “He says he wants me but…never initiates. It’s like I’m begging just for an ounce of attention.”

Joel holds his face neutral, his blood boiling. He wants you, he would give you the attention you deserve. He knows that’s why you’re here, that’s why you called–

“I don’t think he finds me attractive anymore.” You whisper, an uncommitted shrug before you bury your head back against his chest.

Joel rubs his hand up and down your back, looking up toward the TV for a moment. Reruns of Seinfeld, laugh tracks and a bright screen fill his senses. He keeps quiet, keeping his hand moving to reassure you before he says, “I think the world of you.”

You shake under his arm with a brief chuckle, resting your hand on his stomach and swirling, swirling, swirling your finger around his belly button.

He resists sucking his stomach in, knowing you’ll chastise him like you have before. He wants to hold you, body against body to prove to you how much he wants you. “Do you want to go lay down with me?” He asks quietly, feeling your hair slide away from his arm as you pull away from him.

“Sure.” You reach for the remote, clicking off the screen and unzipping your sweatshirt. You turn to him, smirking as you step in the direction of his bedroom. “Just to sleep?”

“If that’s what you want.” Is his immediate answer. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve come to his door just wanting to fall asleep on his chest; he wouldn’t mind it in the least, just to have you next to him.

But the way you smile, the way your eyes shimmer with want, he knows that isn’t what will be happening.

No, not when he turns off all the lights and heads to the bedroom and finds you already under the covers. Your quiet voice asking him to turn off the lights is new, but he obliges.

He fumbles to the bed, getting under the covers and hearing your giggle when you reach for his hand and place it on your breast. He laughs as well, swiping his thumb back and forth over your nipple until it is taunt, peaked against the pads of his fingers. He presses his mouth to your jaw, lightly pinching to hear your whimper against his ear.

He sighs happily, groaning when your fingers wrap around his cock through his pajamas. Your hands are warm, pressing heat into him in ways he misses when you’re gone. He lets his fingers drift down your side, counting your ribs quietly to himself. “Let me see you, baby?” He inquires, letting his lips run down the column of your throat, pressing deeply into the curve of your collarbone.

He feels your tension, the way you freeze for only an instant before going back to your loosened and easy going movements. “What? Don’t like surprises?” You question, squeezing your hand around the head of him briefly before pushing down his pants.

He springs free, your fingers lightly dancing down his shaft making him groan. He wants to tell you that it’s not that he doesn’t like surprises, but he wants to watch you. He looks down, blankets haphazardly in the way, only giving him a peek at what your hand is doing around him.

It feels like heaven, your hand with small calluses at the base of each finger. The smoothness of the rest, silky and enticing pumping up and down, your thumb swiping at the weeping hole to spread some of the wetness around.

He moves the sheet out of the way, letting his eyes trail to your chest before looking up at you as his tongue pokes out, circling the same nipple from before. Your mouth opens in awe, eyes fluttering shut and head thrown back. “J-Joel–”

“Let me see you.” He’s muffled against your skin, flicking his tongue against you and letting his fingers drift further and further down. Joel’s fingers brush over the hem of your underwear, and he can’t help the smile that grows on his face as you giggle. He knows it’s ticklish there, just as he dips his fingers into the humid skin beneath.

Your breath hitches, eyes opening more fully as he moves the blankets with his arm. He notices how you watch it, suddenly self conscious as your legs start to spread for him. “I’m cold, Joel.”

He pauses, letting only the knuckle of his first two fingers continue their movement under the strain of your underwear. You’re slick, his fingers easily moving over your clit with a laziness that he knows you like. You don’t want to be rushed-ever; it’s why you go to his place to begin with. “I’ll warm you up.”

“N-no.” You close your eyes, shaking your head as if falling out of this fantasy. “I want the blankets up here.”

Joel’s fingers pause now, head tilting up to you and frowning. He can see you more clearly now, his eyes having adjusted to the street lamps that filter through his curtains. You’re almost naked below him, frowning with your eyes downturned, looking toward his hand instead of his face. He brings his other hand up, tilting your chin to look directly at him. “What’s wrong, baby?”

You attempt at a scoff, but he’s not buying it. “I’m cold, I told you–”

“You know I think you’re beautiful, right?” He gruffs, frown going deeper as he sees you shake your head. “You know I like to see how you react, touch you, look at you. Why do you want to be covered?”

“I’ll just put my shirt back on.” You snarl, teeth coming out to bite as you lean over the side of the bed, reaching for the shirt you had tossed off before he followed you into the bedroom.

His fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling your arm back and holding you to the bed. Unable to roll, you wiggle under him, pulling your hand free to reach again. When he catches you again, you groan unhappily, getting into a pulling and pushing match with him.

He’s stronger than you, the creases in his forehead deepening as he let’s you get away enough times to tire you out, but not letting you escape his question. “Quit fightin’ me, and tell me what is going on.”

Your hands are secured to the pillows below you, breasts bouncing from the intensity of it and your deep breaths. He can’t help how his eyes trail down, wanting to look at you, but seeing you squirm uncomfortably.

You stay silent, glaring at him and then looking to the ceiling as if you’re just going to ignore the question. Joel sighs, annoyance bubbling up in him and trying to tamp it down. It clicks suddenly in his head, that something must have been said to you. “Why do you want to be covered?”

Your eyes trail back to his, your furrowed brow slowly relaxing, the tension in your arms reducing to where Joel releases his grip and lets his fingers trail down to hold your torso. His hands wrap around you, his thumbs stroking at the soft skin under each breast. He’s not sure if your eyes are shimmering with tears, or if it is just a trick in the light when you say, “He…he asked if I had been working out lately.” You swallow, shaking your head. “A-and when I said no, he…he said ‘that’s obvious.’”

Joel’s breath comes quickly, his fingers subconsciously digging into your skin to hold himself steady. He said what? He can’t help but stare at you, waiting for more to come, but you just stare back with a slow buildup of tears in your lash line.

Another moment of silence before you’re sniffling, bringing a hand up to cover your eyes as if embarrassed. Joel releases you as he feels your body shutter, pulling the blankets up around you both and moving his fingers to cradle your head. He lets his dull nails scratch at your scalp, shushing and cooing at you until you’re pressed against him, naked skin on skin in a humid cloud under his blankets.

He lets you cry; it’s the first he’s really ever seen you do so since meeting you. You’ve always been strong, secure and confident in how you present yourself. He found it off putting, in some ways-he had never been with a woman that didn't need him. He was used to being the provider. But you’d always taken care of yourself, came and went as you pleased, and didn’t ask for anything else.

His heart swells with want. “You’re alright baby, I’ve got you.” He husks, moving his fingers to the back of your neck and massaging at the tense muscles there. “He’s a fucking moron, you know that don’t you? You’re beautiful, you’ve got me wrapped around your finger.”

You shake your head, tears having stopped and a small smile making its way across your face. “No I don't, Miller.”

“You do.” He relents, tilting his head down to look at you again. Red eyes and wet lashes, but otherwise okay. His thumb runs under your eyes, absorbing tears from your face almost instantly. “He shouldn’t be speaking to you that way.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s not a big deal. He’s right, it’s probably why our marriage isn’t going great.”

“That’s not true.” He says immediately, letting his thumb drift to your lower lip and pull it down briefly. “You think your marriage isn’t going well because he doesn’t find you attractive?”

“Among other things.” You sigh, now back to your previous demeanor. Your fingers are dancing over his chest, swirling his chest hair around. “Joel, it’s fine.”

“It’s not.” He argues. “You’re someone any decent man would want. How can he just–”

“Please just, let’s move on.” You cut him off, pressing a flat palm firmly into his chest.

He closes his mouth, breathing heavily through his nose to calm himself down from giving a full lecture. He wants you to understand, to hear him fully. You deserve better than what you have.

You both lay there silently for a moment, just breathing together and not moving. He keeps his eyes on yours, watching yours flick down to his mouth and feeling the way you minutely move towards him. He doesn’t dare move, wanting you to be the one that initiates.

Your hand is gentle against his lower stomach, gliding down again to his now softened cock. It stirs, easy to respond to you. Joel stops your hand, wrapping his fingers around your wrist. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes.” You’re breathy, pupils having gone wide as he lets go of your wrist. It doesn’t take him long to get hard again with how you move your hand, his mind both empty and racing with thoughts.

When you roll on to your back, offering a silent invitation for him to get on top, he’s eager to let his legs tangle with yours and settle between your thighs. He presses his mouth to your collarbone, trailing down below the blanket as you wished for before, his tongue peeking out when he gets to your core.

You sigh happily when his tongue meets your clit in slow, agonizing circles. He prefers to watch you when he does this, eyes up on your face as his tongue swoops back and forth, over and over the hood of your clit until you’re squirming and reaching down to fist at his hair. He likes watching your neck shine with a thin layer of sweat, the way your hair begins to stick to your face and your eyes closing tightly to just feel him.

But right now he’s below the covers, holding one leg down and open to better feast on his meal, the other reaching up and intertwining his fingers with yours. The hand not in his must be bracing yourself against his headboard, your moans muffled by the sheets and blankets surrounding him.

He lets his tongue dip into you, squeezed briefly by your walls and the yelp you let out makes him chuckle. You never expect the first intrusion, spreading your legs wider to let his shoulders be flat against you, his laugh vibrating against your skin.

He continues this pattern, dipping into you with his tongue, circling your clit, and back again. He doesn’t know how long it goes on for, over and over to the point that he’s closed his eyes to feel you instead of watching you. His cock is hard between his legs, pressing against the end of his mattress and begging to be touched by your hand.

There’s a gust of cool air as you lift the sheet away from him, tossing it to the cold side of the bed and reaching down to his hair. He groans again, missing the feeling of your hand on any part of him, and he winces at the tug you give.

You’re pulling him up, wanting his lips on yours and for him to cover you. He obliges, pressing his lips to yours and grabbing at your thighs to lift around his middle. It would be embarrassing, how hard he is for you right now, pressed to your center and grinding against the slick that he left there, but he can’t care right now.

You want him, and that’s his priority; keeping you wanting him.

“Taste so sweet, baby. You want a little?” He says gently against your lips, pressing into your again and letting his tongue sweep into your mouth. You moan, a high and breathy sound that he loves. “That’s right, you like that, don’t you?”

He waits for your nod of approval, how you lunge for his mouth again and happily kiss his lips and jaw as he adjusts his hips to better line himself up with your center. “Joel, please, get inside me already.”

“Impatient.” He mumbles, smirking at you and tilting his head to bite at your ear. He knows you’re ticklish there, wanting to hear your laugh another time before he fills you and loses all sense of himself inside you.

He feels you tilt your hips for him, letting your half-lidded eyes meet his. The head of his cock weeps, aching to be inside you. Joel moves himself to let his head rest against your waiting entrance, beginning the slow slide in.

He can’t stop the thoughts in his mind, racing around in circle. I love you. I love you. I love you.

Once fully seated inside, you both groan in unison, his arms strained to pull away just enough to look down to where you both are connected. “Fuck.” He bites out, looking back up to your face and letting one hand rest on your jaw. “You’re so fucking perfect around me.”

“Joel, move honey.” You whine, reaching out to his shoulders and pulling him back to you. Your nails dig into the taunt muscle, the feeling soothing him.

Honey.

You don’t call him that unless you’re in a different headspace–where you forget the circumstances of why you’re here. It was difficult early on for Joel to get you to relax, even though the act itself made you like putty in his hands. No, he focused on you mentally relaxing, truly forgetting your worries. When you were like this, he could say what he meant. “You’re so perfect baby.” He strains, thrusting into you at a slow and methodical pace. His hips press into the backs of your thighs, his fingers holding around your jaw tighter. “So fucking wet, you wanted this, huh? Wanted me to fuck you like this?”

You nod as he speeds up, the sound of your skin slapping against his now more prominent, the frame of the bed creaking quietly behind it. I love you. I love you. I love you.

He has to stop himself from saying it. The first time he had, he thought it would be the end of whatever the two of you had going. It had slipped out over six months ago, on your way out the door after riding him on the couch.

“I love you.” He had said quietly, watching you redress after climbing off of him.

You turned to him, a half smile on your face. “No, you don’t.” You said simply, waving at him and going on your way. He didn’t expect you to call him after that, and was shocked when just the next night you were on his doorstep waiting for him after work.

And now you’re below him, and just as every time before after that first admission, he wants to say it again. You’re crying out, asking him to come instead of announcing you’re going to, and he speeds up his movements. “You wanna finish around my cock?” He asks, his voice unrecognizable. “I’ll let you, go ahead baby. Let me see it.”

You nod, tears brimming your eyes again for a different reason than before. He feels you tighten in waves around him, sucking him in further as he tries to hold himself back. Joel continues to pump his hips, his lower back tingling with his own release ready.

“J-Joel–” you moan, digging your nails deeper into his shoulder. “Come inside me, pl-please.”

He grunts, forgetting himself and pushing forward with a whine he’s never heard leave his mouth. His eyes close as his come coats your walls, warm and welcoming of it. Joel rests his forehead against yours, sweaty skin pressed to sweaty skin, smiling down at you and breathing heavily. “Fuck baby–”

“Don’t call me that, honey.” You tease, eyes fluttering shut and an award winning smile spreading across your face.

He pulls out, wincing at how tight you are around him still, resting on his side and letting his arm wrap around your middle. “Stay?” He asks quietly, watching you turn your head and opening your eyes to look at him.

You think for a moment. “I need to clean up, and then I’ll decide.”

He grunts in disapproval, letting you slip out of his grasp and step into the ensuite bathroom. The light blinds him briefly, your ass the only thing he can see as you lean over the sink to get a closer look in the mirror. Joel props his head up, watching as you push up on the balls of your feet to get closer, your arms coming out to the door frame and leaning over to look at him. “Do you have wipes?”

He had bought some after the first few times of you being there, asking every time if he had any. He had got you to say what brand they were, and he kept them stocked now. “First drawer on the right.”

You hum happily, pulling out a face wipe and turning back to him, watching him as you scrub at your forehead and cheeks. “Did you want to clean up?”

He shakes his head. “Want to keep you on me, if you don’t mind?”

You smirk, rolling your eyes as if you don’t care. When you finish, you flick the light off and walk toward the bed, Joel blinded briefly from the change in light. “Where’d you go, baby?”

“I’m here.” You whisper, shifting the bed as you climb in and pull the covers from the other side to cover you both. You’re still naked, now cooled skin against him. “I’ll stay, if that’s okay.”

“Of course.” He whispers back, smiling to himself and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, enjoying how you snuggle into his body and neck, fitting perfectly with him. “I’d let you stay as long as you want. You know that.”

You sigh, circling your fingers against his chest hair. “What if…” you trail off, fear taking hold of your voice in a way that makes Joel uncomfortable. He squeezes an arm around you, waiting. “What if I’m too scared to have things change?” You whisper, tensing in his arms.

Joel remains relaxed, his mind swimming with I love you, I love you, let me love you. He sighs, pressing another kiss to your head. “I’m here for when you need me, if you want me.” He says quietly, feeling you relax in his arms again.

Your eyelashes flutter against his skin, your breath slowing down and becoming deeper. As you fall asleep, Joel swallows harshly. He’s here when you need him, and it was never going to change.

[xetlynn]

Twilight Imagines- Jasper x Reader

Curiosity

[Masterlist]

Requested by: @futurequeen2018-blog

“Are you sure you want to come?” Bella asks me as we had just gotten into her truck. “Isn’t this against your guys' agreement or something?” Starting up the vehicle but also not glancing my way. I hum softly, not really knowing how to respond. It is against the treaty to go on one another’s land they claimed. 

Technically on the other hand if they get permission it is different. And I have permission from the one and only. Carlisle Cullen. I know my family would be angry. 

Very angry. But what they don’t know won’t hurt them. “Just go, questions will be answered in due time.” I joke with Bella, snapping my seatbelt on. Surprisingly she takes it and reverses out of my mother’s driveway. 

The only reason I got permission from the vampire was because I was with Bella when Edward came over. I pleaded with her boyfriend to let me talk with his “dad.” I needed to know their side of the story. Everyone’s history. I believe my people of course. I had to know more. I got to call the sculpture of a man. His voice was sultry, smooth and almost angelic. I felt safe instantly and I now understand why Bella trusted them so. 

I explained my curiosity, my interest in learning about them, he told me the dangers. On both sides. I knew what I was getting into. It wasn’t difficult to push though, with a sigh from him he told me I was welcome to come over with Bella, to keep it a secret. 

“We’re here.” Her voice startles me, my eyes widen but I quickly calm myself. Giving a small smile and exiting the loud red vehicle. “Oh.” I mumble, slamming the door shut behind me. Four of the Cullen’s were already outside to greet us. Edward rushed to his lover as I walked toward the other three. Carlisle reaches a hand out and I take it. Curtly shaking it, then letting it drop to my side. “An honor, [Name].” He nods his head, I do the same. “Thank you.” I say. 

“This is Esme and Emmett.” He introduces me to the pretty duo beside him. His wife and other “Son.” Esme gives me a gentle smile, not offering her hand though. “Nice to meet you again.” 

Oh, right. We’ve met before. “Yes, it is.” I attempt a smile but now I’m beginning to wonder if this was such a good idea after all. “Don’t go all wolf on us now, come inside.” Emmett’s voice booms loudly, motioning for me to follow him. I glance back to Bella’s red truck then over to Carlisle who gives me a reassuring expression. I let out a breath, letting my feet take over. 

As beautiful as their house is outside it’s even more gorgeous inside. I soak everything in, my eyes wandering everywhere. I notice the other three Cullen’s in the living room as we get to the kitchen. They were talking amongst themselves. The blonde’s beauty was almost overwhelming and then my eyes landed on the other girl. Her eyes are already piercing into mine. 

Once she sees me look at her she gives me a genuine smile which I wasn’t expecting. I smile back, shortly waving. As I went to look at the guy he was walking away. Seemingly… upset? “Hi, I’m Alice! You strangely don’t smell awful.” The girl from before is now in my face and I take a step back, alarmed. 

“...hi, and thanks?” I shyly respond. Jacob told me they despised wolves, why are they being so nice to me? “It is weird that you smell decent.” The blonde interjects the conversation that I think I was going to have with the short brunette. “Um- I don’t know how to respond to that.” I awkwardly chuckle, avoiding eye contact with them. 

“I thought it was just going to be Carlisle and I.” I rub the back of my neck, changing the subject. I didn’t expect to meet everyone. Well almost everyone since that one guy didn’t want to meet me. For some reason it kind of hurt my feelings? I don’t understand why. 

“That is what was supposed to happen but they are nosey. Felt entitled to meet you.” Carlisle steps in, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Oh, well if they want to stay for the time being I don’t mind hearing everyone’s side of things. That’s why I’m here.” I smile, folding my arms in front of my chest, mainly to comfort myself.  “If you’re alright with it.” He repeats, I glance at everyone who was kind of staring me down. I swallow thickly, looking back up to him. “It’s fine.” I almost whisper. “Let’s go to the couch, to get more comfortable.” Esme leads the way into the living room. “I’m Rosalie by the way.” The beautiful woman says, nudging my arm. “[Name].” I say back. 

We all sit down as a group, except Emmett who stays standing behind his wife. Rubbing her shoulders every now and then. 

And this is kind of how it’s been since that day. We talk in the living room of their house, telling me their stories. Carlisle always has more to say due to being the eldest out of all of them. Hearing the heartbreaking things they’ve been through to be who they are now just makes me not understand why we hate them so much. Not all of them are evil, just like not all humans are evil. It’s a 50/50 chance to meet someone bad. You never truly know who you are going to meet. It’s scary but that’s the price of living. Or not living in their cases. 

Everytime I come over, there’s that one guy who always leaves the house. I learned his name is Jasper. There’s only been two times where he has stayed, It’s not for a long time either. For thirty minutes at most and it seems like if I look at him too much he tenses up and that’s what causes him to leave. I ask Rosalie and Alice about him quite a bit. Curiosity getting the best of me. Emmett makes fun of me, telling me I have a puppy crush on him. Insulting if you ask me. 

Alice always tells me it’s nothing personal with him; he just has a hard time opening up to people. Especially when he finds them interesting himself. Or threatening and I hope it’s the first one because I only want to be his friend. Like I became with the three, more Rosalie, kind of Emmett as well. 

Alice has been leaving with Jasper more recently, I don’t know why. She didn’t explain it but I can tell something serious is going on. Something to do with Bella. No one will tell me anything though. I think it’s because of me being a wolf. 

With that being said it’s also been hectic at the Rez. Paul, my cousin keeping a closer eye on me. Making me stay with the pack to train. Again it is kept a weird secret against me. Until I found out from Jacob and Leah talking. Some vampire is making an army of newborns to kill the Cullen’s. Wanting Edward and mainly Bella dead. They’re tracking her scent and everything, someone’s been in her room. 

When I found out I ran to my car, driving to the Cullen's place, I didn’t know someone was following behind me though. Shoving my gear shift into park I run up to the front door, knocking like a mad man. The door opens and I immediately begin talking. “Why didn’t anyone tell me that’s what we’re training for? Supposedly I was training to literally do nothing too.” I glare at the person before me. It was Jasper. When my eyes landed on him something felt different. The world getting brighter. My heart rate quickened. My breathing stunted. “I- What?” I whisper, before I can say anything else though I hear a scoff behind me. 

“Are you kidding me, [Name]!?” My cousin Paul shouts behind me, Jasper and I look at him with wide eyes. “I don’t know what happened! Wait! Calm down!” I step off the porch, Jasper right next to me, trying to explain what I just did. We’ve never even talked to one another and I just imprinted on him. How stupid am I? Can a wolf even do that with a vampire? Is that natural? Is that okay? 

“You imprinted on a vampire, [Name]. What the fuck is wrong with you?” He screams in my face, Jasper places a hand on my cousin’s chest. “Hey, it’s not her fault and you know that.” He sticks up for me. I tense up as Paul glares at him. “Don’t touch me, freak.” He shoves the guy. I feel my skin get hot. 

“Don’t touch him!” I scream and push Paul back, causing him to stumble. 

All of a sudden I’m not onto the steps of the porch, hurting my back. I look back to see the Cullen’s getting in defensive stances. My eyes go back to the guys in front of me. Paul backs up and I think he’s going to walk it off but instead he runs back toward Jasper, shifting into his wolf form. Jasper braces himself for impact but I quickly get up shifting in my own form. Attacking Paul from the side. 

Both of us get up after rolling in the dirt. I shake it off, getting in front of Jasper protectively. Baring my teeth at my cousin. Snapping when he gets too close. “You’re going to fight for him over your own family!?” He questions me. “He’s my mate now, I have no choice.” I growl. He gets close to me but I snarl. Standing my ground. “It’s in our rules. You can’t harm my imprint, Paul.” I remind him. He attempts to get at me again but when I don’t move he pauses. Not responding to me. Just staring me down. I do the same, not losing my stance. Then suddenly he huffs, running off. 

I look back to the Cullen’s whimpering as an apology, bowing my head down. Closing my eyes. Not believing the mess I just made. How could I imprint on Jasper? Why did I have to do that!? He probably resents me now, I screwed up my every chance of being normal to him. 

“It’s okay, hun.” A country accent rips through the air, a hand petting under my chin and I look up to see Jasper giving me a gentle smile, his dimples forming. “You did nothing wrong, [Name].” Edward tells me, shocking me. I just wish I was in my human form but I know if I shift back I’ll be naked. 

“Go get her a blanket.” Jasper says, as if he was reading my mind. I know he can feel my emotions, but not read my thoughts like Edward. Alice comes toward me with a large blanket, wrapping it over me back giving me enough privacy to go back to my human form. 

When I do I grip the blanket, covering myself. “Thank you.” I huff, feeling sweaty and gross. “No problem, love.” Jasper helps me up, keeping an arm wrapped around me. “I understand if this is weird for you.” I automatically say to him. He breathes out a quiet laugh. 

He looks around at the others, giving a look as if to tell them to leave us for a moment. They do so, going back inside. “We never even spoke and now we’re supposed to be mates.” I drop my head, embarrassed with myself. “It’s definitely interesting.” He squeezes me closer to him. 

“Don’t you find it weird?” I ask, hiding my face in the blanket, we both sit down. “Mm, I was fond of you before you imprinted. I think this just gives me a push to get to know you.” He tells me, I gasp quietly, still hiding my face though.

“You were?”

“Yeah, nerves got to me, I couldn’t read your emotions when you looked at me. You were happy when you spoke to everyone but when you looked at me it was confusion..? I don’t know.” He explains. It grows quiet as I begin to register what he’s telling me. “Can I see your face?” He asks. I slowly do it, looking up at him. 

“You’re embarrassed.” He states. My face grows warm. “Who wouldn’t be in my position? I’m naked and I just imprinted on this handsome guy that also happens to be a vampire?” I dramatically explain, almost dropping the blanket but he lifts it back on my shoulder before that happens, leaving me with an even warmer face. “Don’t be embarrassed. I’m happy with what happened.” He stares into my eyes to prove his being genuine. “Are you sure?” I quiz. 

“Positive.” He snickers. “Can I kiss you?” I blurt out, only making him laugh more. “Yes, you can.” 

I reach out with a covered hand and touch his face, pulling him into a kiss.

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

I'm super sorry this took forever to come out, I've been busy with another move, along with a bunch of other personal stuff. I have been working on writings during this time I just haven't had time to edit and post it. Expect a few things to be posted within these next few days. Hopefully at least:)

[ellieslittlewh0re]

𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏)

* ೃ⁀➷ part 2 - part 3

pairings - farmers daughter! reader x farmhand! ellie

summary - your dad hires a stranger to help out around the farm

additional tags - inexperienced but flirty reader, shy/loser ellie, cowboy boot wearing ellie, mutual pinning, slight masturbation mention (e!), e! w/ a southern accent??, eventual smut, (nothing too crazy happens in this part it’s mostly just setting vibes lol)

Beads of sweat collected on the bridge of your nose, and your thighs stuck together as you sat on the porch swing, just lazily swinging back and forth, using your tippy toes to keep the momentum going.

You look out over the vast pasture- green as far as the eye can see, with nothing to distract from the country landscape except for some power lines out in the distance.

Even with the sun starting to set- it was still unbelievably hot.

"Keep goin' like that and you're gonna die of a heat stroke."

You yell to your father who was working under the hood of his rusty truck. Usually, he pays no mind to your nagging, but this time it seemed to work- or perhaps he was just finished for the night.

He shuts the hood, slamming it with a metallic thud before wiping his hands on a greasy rag.

His boots rang loudly against the hallow wooden stairs of the porch, looking down at you through bushy eyebrows.

"I don't need your sass, kid."

You roll your eyes at his comment. He's always been stubborn and tough, but in his old age, you can't help but worry. His cheeks have hallowed over the years, sun spots forming from the countless hours working on the farm, and his movements became slowed from the hard work catching up to him.

"I wouldn't sass if you'd just listen. Seriously, it's okay to hire someone to help. no one is gonna shame you for that." You pester affectionately, standing from the swing to open the screen door and enter the house with him following behind.

You follow him to the kitchen, listing all the reasons why he should have help.

One: he's getting old.

Two: his knee has never been the same since he had that operation done 4 years ago.

Three: the farm is too big and demanding to tend to alone.

"Okay- enough.. you sound just like your mother sometimes I swear." He hold a hand up, pausing you mid-ramble, and takes a sip from the glass he filled from the tap.

You pouted, and once again, your suggestions felt shot down.

He finishes the water, wiping his beard with the back of his hand.

"I actually have someone comin' by tomorrow. They were recommended t' me by Phillip at the feed store."

Your eyes lighten up, a smile grows on your face, and you finally feel like you can breathe, knowing that the hardships wouldn't be your dads alone anymore.

You rush around the kitchen island, placing a kiss to your dads cheek and squeezed him tight.

"Thank you! I can't wait- I'll have to bake em' something sweet tonight."

"Alright- settle down-" he pushes you away slightly with a smile on his weathered face. Truly an adoring annoyance that only a parent could love.

Your old man calls it a night, showering and off to bed he went, but you? Oh- you were busy. You tried your hardest to keep the sound down to a minimum, bowls, and kitchen utensils splayed on the counters.

A small apron draped around your waist, flour smudged on your cheekbone as you pulled the blueberry scones out of the oven. A satisfied smile grows on your face as you observe your work and finishing of the pastries with a dusting of powdered sugar.

Maybe, you were going a tad bit overboard, but the truth is, you were painfully lonely. The only time you had any visitors on the farm was when you held pumpkin patches in the fall, but even then, it was always young families that didn't bother to stay around for too long.

You go upstairs, a slight pep in your step as you did so. You showered and put in your favorite pajamas- a short, soft floral patterned dress with bows that secured the straps.

You tossed in bed, sleep not being in favor since your mind was still wide awake. You try to picture what they would look like- what they sounded like.

Was he tall? Around your age, or is he just another old man like your father? Maybe they're not a man at all.

It's best not to get ahead of yourself; whoever this person is, they are coming to work for your dad and not to become your friend.

-

You slept lightly, and your senses became more aware as a muted thud rang outside your second-story bedroom window. You open your eyes slowly, blinking away the sleepy confusion as dust particles dance in the sunbeams of your room.

It took you a few seconds to realize why today was so important, but once you remembered- it had you scattering out of bed to your window, pulling back the sheer laced curtains, and taking a peak outside.

There was a truck you didn't recognize parked in the driveway. It was slightly newer than your dad's, but that's not saying much; a simple 2-door with an extended bed, slightly lifted with sturdy-looking tires.

A slim figure stood next to the driver's side door, hands on their hips as they looked up at the house. To your surprise, it wasn't a man at all.

You squint, trying to get a better look at her without realizing how big of a creep you are being.

Her hair shined a brilliant shade of auburn in the morning light, a brown button up shirt with the sleep rolled up to her elbows, slightly flared and worn denim jeans hugged her hips with brown cowboy boots that seemed to match the leather of her belt.

You caught a glimpse of something on her arm, dark lines that disrupted her pale skin. It was a tattoo, although you could make out the details of the design.

She looked the part of someone who knows how to run a farm, but something about her seemed so out of place- almost like she was too pretty for such a dirty job.

While you were too busy eyeing her up and down, you didn't realize she had caught you. She put her hand up, holding it there for a second before bringing it back down to her side. You wave back, a slight wiggle of you fingertips which made her smile.

You watch her walk out of the frame of your window before sitting on the edge of your bed- your fingers grasping at the embroidered comforter. You had this weird feeling in your tummy; it was something you couldn't explain, almost like nausea but also like when you go on a big rollercoaster.

You felt nervous but excited all at the same time. You figured it was because she was around your age, maybe slightly older- shrugging it off as you got up and got ready for the day.

You brush your hair before tying it into two loose braids, finishing it with light pink ribbons at the ends. You wanted to put a little more effort into your appearance today since you're meeting someone new, and as daddy always said, "First impressions are the most important."

You take a deep breath in the last most of solitude of your room before making your way down the stairs, the conversation between the stranger and your father growing louder and louder from the kitchen as you inched closer.

"There she is-" your dad motions an arm in your direction, the stranger immediacy turning to meet your face.

"Ellie, this is my daughter, y/n, and y/n, this is Ellie."

"It's nice t' meet you, Ellie." You said in your sweetest voice you could muster as you walk towards her, holding a hand out.

"Likewise." She smiles, taking your hand in hers and shakes it firmly. She seemed respectful, maybe even a little flustered- seeing that her cheeks started to turn a deep shade of pink.

Upon seeing her closer, it didn't help settle your nerves. She was gorgeous; freckles adorned her alabaster skin, a scar that ran through her eyebrow and upper lip, and her eyes a mossy shade of green with dark, long lashes framing the shape.

She was honestly the prettiest girl you've ever seen but not in the same way you were often described. There was a boyish charm to her that you had never seen before.

"Well- best we get to it then." Your dad chimes in, causing you to let go of the calloused hand that you hadn't realized you were still holding onto.

"I'll see you around Ellie." You just barely make audible to her, bitting down on your bottom lip before turning on your heel and leaving them to do their jobs.

Ellie was almost speechless upon meeting you. Never in a million years did she ever think a girl like you could live in this small country town, but fuck, leave it to her luck- you were the boss's daughter, which means you were off limits.

You didn't make it easy on her either, prancing around in your little summer dress that flowed with your movements, rising dangerously high when you would turn around, almost giving her a peek of your ass.

Ellie swallowed hard each time, the saliva filling her mouth with all the dirty thoughts she had- which mostly consisted of you underneath her, completely naked and trembling after she forced a 4th orgasm out of you.

-

The sun was starting to set, blanketing the canvas in shades of orange and pink, and to your disappointment- Ellie would be leaving soon.

She was walking towards her truck, slightly dragging her feet from exhaustion, and you're happy she did so. It gave you enough time to run out of the house barefoot, container filled with the homemade goods in your hands.

"Ellie!-" you called out to her which made her turn around, her hand opening the driver side door.

You nearly bump into her, slightly out of breath as you held up the tupperware with both of your hands.

"Sorry- I made them last night, must've forgotten in to give 'em' to you earlier." Again, your voice is so sweet and innocent- like honey coated candies on her tongue.

A smirk grows on her face, taking the gift from you to inspect them.

"That's mighty kind of you.. oh no, are these blueberries?"

Your face contorts to concern, and Ellie can't help but think how fucking cute you look all worried like that.

"Yeah, why? Do you not like 'em?" You pout, almost like you're on the verge of tears

A low chuckle reverberates in her throat, "I'm just messing with you, doll. They look delicious."

"Meanie."

A few seconds of silence go by, and Ellie looks everywhere except your face, and I mean everywhere- including the plushness of your breast that spilled over the top of your dress - she couldn't have you knowing how red her cheeks are right now.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" She said it almost like a question- as if you'd miss out on such an opportunity.

"See you tomorrow, Ellie. Goodnight." You stand on your tippy toes, planting a quick kiss on the rounds of her cheeks, and run back inside, leaving Ellie in full panic mode.

She gets into her truck, taking a moment to herself before turning over the engine. Her fingers tighten around the steering wheel as she replays it in her head. She felt like she could combust, literally and figuratively- her head came down to rest on the wheel, and her cheeks ached from the smile that wouldn't seem to leave her lips.

In fact- she thought about it all night long. When she showered, when she laid in bed trying to sleep, she was tingling, an ache growing inside the depths of her stomach.

I mean, could you blame her? You didn't try to hide how hard you stared or how flirtatious you were towards her.

Maybe you were just like that with everyone.

Still- it didn't stop her. And It didn't stop her hand from slipping into the waistband of her checkered pajama pants, and it definitely didn't stop her from fingering herself to thoughts of you.

She came hard that night, harder than she had before, and she can't help but wonder- if simply her imagines of you felt this good, how would fucking you for real feel?

❥ taglist - @machetegirl109

[squiddy-god]

reader in heat (x belphie)

Ok so this was a request and basically after helping Solomon with a spell gone wrong you go into heat

CW : smut, artificial heat, Solomon spell gone wrong, smutty smut with a hint of plot

Okokok so let me start this by saying that while belphie is a lazy fuck, hes also a horny bastard

So while during the day he’s near constantly asleep, he mentions in a call that at night he’s alway awake

So sex with belphie while still lazy, is much more active at night

ok now onto the juicy bits

Solomon was trying out a new spell, and you were helping him because he was teaching you magic

Well solomon did an oopsie and the spell went very, very rong

So when the spell misfired at you he expected you to turn purple or turn into a frog

He definitely didn’t expect it so send you into a heat

Immediately got you to the house of lamentation because here’s the thing

Humans don’t normally go into heat unless a spell or special aphrodisiac is used, but when a human is sent into a heat, especially around demons, it isn’t always the best

Humans are already delicious to demons but a human in heat? haHA

So solomon immediately got you back to the house and him and lucifer decided the best thing to do was temporarily put you in the attic until the effects wore off

So when belphie got home ready to snuggle up with you and nap, he was understandably suspicious when no one knew were you were and lucifer was hesitant to tell him

And belphie was angry when lucifer said you were in the attic for a while, so without waiting to hear the explanation belphie sprinted up and slammed the door open

And then it hit him like a truck

You had been sent into a heat

Now one of three things could happen here

One; he could go on like usual in his lazy fashion, letting you ride him and fuck yourself on his cock, your slopy little hole streching on his cock while you work yourself threw your heat

That is until night when hes nice and awake, and willing to be a bit more active, plowing you and fucking you into the matress

Oh and he sleeps so nicely with you bouncing on his cock and your sweet, intoxicating scent filling up the room.

Two; a kind of switch flips in belphies head and suddenly he isn’t very tired

Now look, as far as belphie is concerned your his “mate” in a sense, so while you wouldn’t normally go into heat and this is probably a one time thing, your heat still affects him a lot more than it would affect another demon/more then another demons heat would affect him because of the bond you two share (at least to him).

So when belphie rushes in and is hit with the wave of your scent in heat, a switch in his head flips

His “mate” is in heat and he needs to help them, even if he himself isnt in his heat, you are and his instinct is to fuck you into the matress for as long as you need

So he immediately pounces on you, yes he’s still going to get a little tired and be slightly lazy, letting you ride him for a bit

But only for a bit

Once he wakes up from his little power nap he’s going to flip you over on your stomach and shove his cock in you until your creaming

This takes up his normal style when he’s abnormally horny, lazy but rough

He’ll set a slightly slower then average pace with long rough thrust

He’ll lean over you and whisper the most filthy things in your ears. About how well you take his cock, about how your his, teasing you about how needy you are, about how you look so cute begging for him to fuck you.

So like the first one hes still fairly lazy about it but he feels the need to fuck you threw your little heat

Three; this little incident sends him into an early heat

Now demons and humans are very different, that’s obvious, and like i said before belphie sees you as his “mate” even if its at the back of his mind his body is still going to naturally react as if your his “mate” even if yours isn’t quite the same way, what i mean is like when belphie goes into heat you can’t really sense it, you don’t smell it like demons do and it doesn’t affect you, however when you go into heat, even tho its a one time thing, as mentioned before it does affect him, he can sense that your in heat because his body sees you as his “mate” and he can smell that your in heat because he’s a demon, and normally this would be fine, a normally occurrence for demons,

Except your a human

And because your a human this is your first (and probably only) heat, now this is important because :

While demons can smell another demon in heat it doesn’t affect them the same way as when a demon’s “mate” is in heat, when a demon’s “mate” is in heat the smell is stronger and they can sense the others heat, it affects them more.

And when a demon gets a “mate” other demons heats become slightly more muted

So you’ve been belphies “mate” for a while, meaning that previously he didn’t have one, and that he’s never smelled your heat

So when he bursts into the room and your in heat it’s something fairly new, and because of that it sends his body into an early heat

And oh boy belphie in heat = no sleep whatsoever.

But that’s for another time *wink wink*

[lewmagoo]

we own the sky | rhett abbott

part three: atmosphere

read the previous part here

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

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

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

pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader

word count: 13,768

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

“Let’s go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were there until you weren’t. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-I’m okay,” you promised. 

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

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

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

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

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

Lightning splintered across the sky.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You closed your eyes. Three, two, one. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Almost!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Copy!” Finn shouted back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally, you were done running. 

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

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

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

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

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

“No shit?” Rhett was surprised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You ducked your head sheepishly. “Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

“Sounds good!” 

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

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

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

The missing half of his heart had returned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing could ever take the charm out of the cowboy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Guess we should go inside,” you mumbled. 

“Guess we should.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You offered support, moving to squeeze her hand. “Yeah, we’re all good. Still in one piece.”

The woman nodded solemnly, placing her restless hands on her hips. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re fine. Of course you’re fine. I’m sorry, I just…I lost my head for a bit there when we got home from church and I heard about the twister that hit near Coalgate. I thought…” 

She trailed off, unable to voice it. 

“S’okay, Ma. I’ll make sure my phone is charged next time, that way y’ can get a hold of me.”

Cecilia managed a smile. “Good. I’ll, uh, I’ll try not to act so hysterical about it next time.”

“You aren’t being hysterical,” you told her. “You’ve got every right to worry.”

“Uncle Rhett?!” Suddenly, Amy’s voice cut through the tension in the air, and the nine-year-old came rushing down the steps, her golden hair flying behind her shoulders. 

Rhett turned just in time as the girl threw herself into his arms. He caught her with ease, lifting her off the ground. “Gramma said somethin’ might’ve happened! I was so scared!” She exclaimed. 

“Hey now, nothin’ to be scared about. I’m fine,” he promised his niece, leaning back to brush her hair away from her face. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere, Ames. You’re stuck with me.”

She managed a giggle as he tapped her nose. “Good. I’m glad you’re alright.”

You watched the tender moment, and you couldn’t help the tears that welled in your eyes. He was so good with her. 

When he finally let her go, he stepped back toward you, and you found yourself instinctively slotting yourself against his side in search of his safety and warmth. 

Amy caught on immediately, and her face broke into the biggest grin you’d ever seen. “You are in love!”

This time, you grinned right back at her and said, “We sure are.”

As she jumped up and down and said, “I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!” you looked at Rhett. There was this beautiful fondness in his eyes that you never wanted to forget as long as you lived. 

“You two want any hot cocoa?” Cecilia asked, a twinkle in her eyes, as if she’d always known you and Rhett would get back together. Perhaps it was mother’s intuition.

“Yeah, that sounds really good, actually,” you agreed.

“Ooh, can we put the colorful marshmallows in it?!” Amy inquired, hope in her voice.

“If you can find ‘em in the pantry!” Her grandmother told her, at which the girl scurried into the kitchen without missing a beat, eager to find the dyed confections.

As the pair busied themselves in the kitchen, you ducked out of Rhett’s embrace to take your damp shoes off. He followed suit, placing his boots on the rack near the door, lest his mother be frustrated with him for leaving them on the floor.

You ambled further into the coziness of the house, taking a seat on the tan upholstered couch that stood in front of the windows. The couch that converted into a bed for Rhett to sleep in each night. 

“Is the mattress in this thing comfortable?” You asked as you settled in. 

Rhett hummed, shrugging as he retrieved the old quilt from the back of the couch. “Yeah, I sleep fine on it.”

But surely it wasn’t as comfortable as his own bed. The one you had the luxury of sleeping in for the duration of your stay.

You could invite him to join you. 

Was that being too forward? After all, you’d only just rekindled your romance. Was inviting him to sleep in the same bed as you moving too fast? Or would it be like simply resuming where you’d left off. When you were together before, you’d spent more time in his bed than your own. Being with him in his childhood home felt like a safe haven. 

It still felt like that. Though, he was part of what made it feel like home. Without him here, it was just a house. A mere building. But bring him into the picture, and there was warmth, safety, and security. 

And that was why you thought about inviting him into bed with you that night. You yearned to feel the comfort of being wrapped in his arms as you slept. 

Dare you ask him to join you in bed that night?

“Do you guys want whipped cream?” Amy abruptly called from the kitchen, jarring you from your thoughts. 

“Please!” Rhett responded. You echoed his answer, letting out a breath as you shook your thoughts of longing away. 

He took a seat beside you, spreading the quilt he’d just grabbed over both your and his laps. Immediately, you were surrounded by warmth, and you let yourself sink back into the couch cushions, breathing a sigh of relief as the tension you carried began to slowly melt away. 

“Y’alright?” He asked, cadence low. “Been an eventful day.”

“I’ll say,” you agreed. “I’m okay. Just tired from the adrenaline crash.”

His knee bumped against your own. He left it there. “I know I already said it, but I’m proud of ya. I know facin’ that twister wasn’t easy.”

“Well, I know climbing back on a bull wasn’t easy for you, so I guess we’re even.”

He hummed, nodding his head. “Guess we are.”

Moments later, Amy and Cecilia entered the living room with mugs of hot chocolate, and soon, the four of you were huddled around the coffee table, enjoying the sweet, chocolaty drink as the rain continued on outside.

You let your walls down and embraced the domesticity of it all. For once, your body wasn’t in fight or flight mode, and you felt at ease. You could get used to this. 

When it came time to prepare dinner, you volunteered to help Cecilia, but after she learned that you’d endured a tornado chase, she insisted that you rest. 

“You’ve had enough activity for one day, hon. Y’ should take it easy,” she told you. 

This left you to sit on the hardwood floor of the home office, with Amy across from you and Rhett beside you, a jigsaw puzzle littering the space between you. You were quite enjoying watching his large hands put each small, fragile piece into place with such precision and care. 

He was so beautiful like this. Comfortable. At ease in his home, with his family. A life you had once dreamed of living with him. And now, you supposed it had become a dream of yours once more. 

You could see yourself in the future. A quaint little home, just the two of you. A simple, happy life. 

And that’s when you knew. Sitting there, watching him work on a puzzle on the floor, you knew everything was about to change. Your life was forever intertwined with his now, and you would be his until death did you part. 

That thought didn’t scare you. It filled you with so much hope, rising up inside you like water from a babbling brook. It was a beautiful feeling.

Later that evening, as you sat around the dinner table, you were beside him, shoulders touching, stealing glances at each other throughout the meal. Things felt lighter now. The tension was gone. 

“You two finally quit beatin’ around the bush?” Royal asked. His expression was neutral, but his eyes swam with humor.

Rhett squeezed your knee under the table. “Yeah. We did.”

“Good,” the older man said, nodding in approval. “She’s a good one, like your ma is. Don’t lose ‘er this time.”

The man beside you let his mouth quirk into a soft smile. “I won’t.”

“He’s stuck with me,” you agreed, placing your hand over his, which still rested upon your knee.

Soon after, when supper was finished, and the dishes washed, you found yourself in the living room again, curled up on the couch with Rhett by your side. Amy pleaded with her grandmother to let her stay up just a little later, despite her early wake-up call for school the next day, as she wanted to watch a movie with you and Rhett.

Cecilia made the exception, and it wasn’t long before the opening credits of Treasure Planet were playing. One of Amy’s favorites, Rhett informed you. But as the movie went on, you found your mind traveling elsewhere, hardly focused on the cartoon.

Instead, you were fixated on Rhett’s proximity. 

Your head was resting upon his shoulder again, and he was perfectly content with that. This felt more intimate than when you’d fallen asleep on him in the truck. Here, you were settled into the comfort of his home, cozy beneath a quilt that his mother had made many years ago.

It reminded him of the movie nights you would have when you were teenagers. You would trade off who picked the film, and he would often choose ones set in the horror genre, just so you’d have an excuse to hide your face in the crook of his neck during frightening scenes.

Here and now, curled up on the couch with you snuggled against his side, he was overcome with a surge of protectiveness. There was no doubt in his mind that he would do whatever he had to, just to keep you safe. 

“Looks like someone fell asleep.” Your whispered statement pulled him from his thoughts, and he glanced over at the floor near the television, where Amy had fallen asleep. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed. The movie was nearly over.

Rhett hummed. “Guess I should take ‘er up to bed,” he murmured. 

Reluctantly, he rose from the couch, instantly missing your warmth. Stretching his extremities, stiff from sitting for so long, he stepped across the rug covered floor and stooped to gather his niece into his arms. 

She barely stirred as he cradled her close. He had this down to a science now. He was always good at making sure he didn’t disturb her sleep whenever he had to carry her to bed. 

From the couch, you watch with fondness as he handled her gently. He took her upstairs, stepping into her room and laying her in her bed. When the covers were pulled over her, he ducked down to kiss her forehead before he crept back out of the room and shut the door behind him.

As he did so, the sound of thunder rumbling through the distant skies reached his ears. Yet another storm was blowing through, it seemed.

When he made his way back downstairs, he found you in the living room still, folding the quilt that had been strewn over your lap. He watched you for a moment, taking in the sight of you tidying up the room. Oh, how effortlessly beautiful you were. 

When you caught him staring, you ducked your head shyly. “Thought I’d make myself useful and clean up a bit,” you said.

“Mm,” he hummed, lashes fluttering.

The way he was looking at you took your breath away. “Did you, um, get Amy to bed alright?”

“Yeah, she’s still out like a light,” he told you. 

“Good. I love how she insisted on staying up later, and still fell asleep,” you responded with a good-natured smile. Kids were funny.

“She always does that,” he agreed, “an’ every time, I carry her upstairs.”

“You’re good with her. She loves you,” came your next statement, tone full of fondness.

Rhett ducked his head. “I love ‘er too. She’s a special li’l gal. Ever since Perry and Bec died…I dunno, I’ve just felt responsible for her.”

“Well, she’s lucky to have an uncle like you.”

His cheeks rounded as he smiled, and your heart clenched in your chest. He was truly so endearing.

A moment of silence passed. Then another. The air between you was heavy, as if both of you wanted to say something, but were hesitating. You knew what you wanted. It was right there, on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak it.

Another crack of thunder rolled outside, and you jumped slightly, caught off guard. This seemed to push you to speak. “Well, I…I guess I’ll head up to bed.”

You swore you saw disappointment flash in Rhett’s eyes, but it was gone within a split second. “Yeah. Yeah, ‘m sure you need the rest after the crazy day we had.”

“Uh-huh. I’m pretty beat.” You padded across the rug covered floor, your arm brushing against Rhett’s as you passed. As if on cue, a flash of lightning illuminated the house, followed by the loudest crash of thunder you’d ever heard. The force of it rattled the entire house.

Both of you jumped, and you found yourself surging into his arms on instinct, holding your breath as you waited for the residual rumbling to pass. When it was quiet, you looked at each other, and you began to laugh silently.

“Jump scared by thunder,” Rhett mused with a grin, “didn’t see that one comin’.”

Your hands rested atop his chest, where you could feel the quickness of his heart. “Me neither,” you agreed.

Slowly, your gaze flickered to meet his. His eyes narrowed slightly, and his mouth parted as he took in a breath. As another flash of lightning lit up your surroundings, something shifted between you. Warmth in your belly. Desire in your heart.

When your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, he knew what was going to happen. So did you. That was why you weren’t surprised with yourself in the least when you heard yourself say, “Do you, um…do you want to come upstairs?”

He leaned in, mouth just barely brushing against your own. “I do.” More than anything.

You let your eyes flutter shut as his lips captured yours. You swore, you knew exactly what it felt like to be a lightning bolt when he kissed you. Bright and alive, thrumming with raw energy.

“Please, I…” What were you asking for? Your tongue suddenly felt like lead in your mouth, and you couldn’t form syllables around it. 

Rhett sighed softly, his large hand coming up to rest upon the side of your neck. There, he felt your racing pulse, and his eyes widened. “I know, honeybee. It’s been so long, hasn’t it?” His tone was choked. Labored.

Your bottom lip quivered as you were suddenly so overcome with emotion you could hardly breathe. To your dismay, the only sound you could make in reply was a whimper. But, oh, if only you could have photographed the face Rhett made when he heard the sound.

His brow furrowed, and his jaw went slack. You swore his eyes grew darker. 

“C’mon, let’s get you upstairs.” He took your hand in his and led you slowly up the steps, your footfalls light so as not to alert the entire house of your movement.

With each moment, the closer you got to Rhett’s room, the faster your pulse raced. He guided you inside, carefully pushing the door shut behind you. You stood in the middle of the room as he moved to turn on the bedside lamp, swathing the room in a golden glow. 

You jumped slightly as yet another boom of thunder shook the ground, but Rhett was there within seconds, hand soothing along the expanse of your arm. He hooked his index finger beneath your chin, prompting you to look at him.

“Y’ want me to stop, just say the word, and I will.”

But you didn’t want him to stop. “O-okay.”

He kissed you again, languidly, lovingly, but with the mounting intensity of the storm outside, as well as the one currently brewing between you, it soon grew into something more. You parted your lips and allowed his tongue into your mouth, tasting each other.

Your hands rested upon his solid chest, and his own settled on your hips as he eased you back toward the wall. When you came in contact with the solidity behind you, you gasped. 

You were cornered, surrounded by him, his scent, his body heat. He invaded your every sense. And when his hands came up to rest against the wall at either side of your head, you felt so protected. 

His chest heaved slightly against yours, and he closed his eyes, gathering himself before he leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Then the edge of your jaw. Down, down, down, to your collarbone. The bite of his day-old stubble against your flesh made you shudder, and you felt goosebumps raise in his wake. 

Tongue and teeth oh so gently grazed your pulse point, and he buried his face there, breathing in your scent. How was it that you still smelled the exact same after all this time? It wasn’t just your perfume. It was your entire chemical makeup, a scent so intoxicating it made him weak in the knees. 

“Can I take this off?” He asked, cadence low, fingers curling into the hem of your shirt. 

“Please.”

He lifted the fabric, tugging it off of you as you lifted your arms to allow him to remove it entirely. He took in the sight of you, in just your bra. You expected to find hunger in his eyes, and it was there, but there was something else. Deep adoration. Reverence. It made you feel as if you were going to dissolve into stardust. 

Feeling much too clothed, he decided to join you, leaning back to yank his shirt off, letting the fabric fall to the floor in a heap. 

In the lowlight, you caught sight of the tattoo of a bull and rider inked into the skin of his chest. Lovingly, you brought your fingers up to trace over it. You remembered so vividly the day he got it. You were there with him. 

Silently, you leaned forward, kissing the artwork. His breath caught in his lungs, and his lashes fluttered. You used to kiss that tattoo all the time. Especially when you were riding him. 

And then your tongue darted out to trace it, and he audibly gasped. Moments later he was pulling your face toward his again, kissing you deeply, desperately, teeth grazing your bottom lip. 

You were both a little frenzied as you pulled at each other’s remaining clothing. You unbuckled Rhett’s belt and he glanced down to watch you tug his jeans down his legs. Once he’d kicked them to the side, leaving him in a pair of blue boxers, he unbuttoned your own jeans, gazing up at you as he guided the denim toward your ankles. 

He squeezed your calf, and you lifted one leg, then the other, to step out of the pants. The only thing keeping you from being entirely exposed to him was the thin fabric of your underwear. 

You watched through hazy eyes as he began to kiss up your leg and along your inner thigh, palms resting upon your hips. When he made it to your underwear, he looked right at you as he kissed your clothed pussy, at which you moaned breathlessly. 

“Wan’ see this sweet li’l pussy. Will you let me see her, darlin’?” His accent had grown deeper with the rasp of his voice. It swam through your head and sent shockwaves through your extremities. 

“Y-yes.” You weren’t sure how you found it in yourself to speak. 

“Yeah?” Cautiously, he began pulling the underwear down your legs. Slow, slow, slow, all the way down until he reached your ankles. Once you stepped out of them, he was finally greeted with the sight of you. 

Deft fingers came up to part your delicate folds, touch featherlight as he began to explore. He was pleasantly surprised to find that you were already soaking wet. 

“Can’t tell ya how much I missed this. How much I thought about you the last few years,” he admitted before he leaned toward you, running his nose along your inner thigh before he left another kiss to your now bare cunt. 

Your knees nearly buckled, and he’d barely touched you. 

“You…you have?”

“Uh-huh.” His tongue darted out to taste you, and his eyes flickered shut. He’d be the first to admit that he’d conjured up images of you when his hand was wrapped around his aching cock. Your softness, your pretty sounds, the feeling of your slick warmth around him. He’d spill his release against his lower belly as he moaned your name into the confines of his bedroom. 

“I-I’ve thought about you too,” came your confession. Your head was spinning. 

“Oh really? You touched this pretty cunt while thinkin’ of me?”

“God, yes.”

Hearing you admit it had him twitching with need within the confines of his boxers. What he wouldn’t give to be inside you again. 

“S’much as I wanna eat you until you come all over my face, I think I need t’ be inside ya. Been too long.”

He rose to his feet, and he grasped your wrist, bringing your hand between his legs. You gasped at the feeling of his hardness. Had you forgotten just how thick he was? 

As he kissed you again, you eagerly dipped your hand past the waistband of his underwear. When your fingers curled around his shaft, he grunted in surprise against your mouth. 

Stroking him lightly, you took the opportunity to lavish affection on him, kissing along his jaw and neck as his cock grew even harder in your hand. Burying your face against the side of his neck, you took a moment to fully immerse yourself in the moment. 

This was real. You were here. In the very bedroom where you’d given yourself to each other for the first time. Now, you were together again, giving yourselves to each other not for the first time, but for the last time. Not because it would never happen again, but because this was the moment that you were acknowledging that you were it for one another. A way of pledging yourself to him, a silent promise that there would never be anyone else. 

It was you and him, for the rest of your lives. 

“Take me to bed, baby,” you whispered against the feverish column of his throat. 

How could he deny you? 

With one arm holding you close, he guided you to the bed. But then he paused, brow furrowing. “Didn’t think this through,” he murmured. “The both of us ain’t gon’ fit on that bed.”

“We’ll fit fine, it’ll just be a tight squeeze,” you replied. 

But he shook his head. “Nah. The way I wan’ lay you out and fuck you? I need more space than that.” 

His words sent a shudder through you, but you still managed a playful quip in return. “Then what do ya propose, cowboy?” 

“One sec.”

Then, he went around the room, gathering all the quilts from the rack on the other side of the room. He even yanked the covers off of the bed. You watched in amusement as he spread everything out on the floor, creating a makeshift bed, complete with pillows. It appeared to be a very cozy setup.

As soon as the last pillow was put in place, he straightened to his full height, gaze falling upon you once again. He reached for you, and you let him reel you in, guiding you toward him until your body was pressed against his. 

His eyes reminded you of a feline’s, narrow and sharp. The warmth of desire glowed within them, drawing you in, sending shivers down your spine. With a loving kiss, he whispered, “Lay down for me, honeybee.”

Your mouth went dry, and your breath came out raggedly. But you complied, dropping to your knees and crawling toward the pillows, where you then laid your head. You watched, chest constricting, as Rhett pulled his boxers down his legs and tossed them aside.

His cock, hard and heavy, bobbed between his thighs, and you audibly whimpered. You had forgotten how thick he was. The memory of what it felt like to be filled by him flashed through your mind. The delicious stretch. The utter fullness.

Above you, he wrapped his hand around his shaft, stroking lightly as he stepped toward you. Then he knelt, and you still couldn’t tear your eyes away from that gorgeous cock. 

“Look at me.” Quiet, yet commanding. Your eyes snapped up to his. “You gon’ let me make love to you, baby?” His hand traveled along your thigh, coming closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“Y-yes,” you peeped.

He smiled knowingly. “Need it so bad, don’t ya?” His voice was barely contained, trembling as he moved to hover over you. “I do too.” His fingers slid over your dripping center, and you gasped softly as they circled your little gathering of nerves.

Rhett moaned when he felt you pulse beneath his touch. As he dipped two of his fingers inside you, his mouth explored your chest, biting at the sensitive skin of your breast before he swirled his tongue around one pert nipple. 

You whined as his mouth latched onto the sensitive bud, your hand coming up to thread through his dark locks. You hadn't realized how turned you were until that very moment. But you could feel it now, dripping around his fingers as you clenched around them.

"Rhett, please, I-" You didn’t know what you were asking for. Your mind was swimming. Hazy.

Hearing your pitiful begging had him looking up at you expectantly.

"What do you want, darlin’?" 

"You. I need you. I-I can’t…I don’t…please, just…" God, you were spiraling with need.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” he soothed, tongue licking into your mouth before he slipped his fingers out of you. 

You watched as wrapped his lips around the digits and sucked your desire off them. Your own mouth fell open at the salacious sight. 

“Mm, tastes just as good as I remember.”

He was hovering over you again, bracing himself with his hands against the floor. His gaze was so intense, but you couldn’t look away. When you felt his hard cock against your inner thigh, you shivered in anticipation.

“Honey, I…I don’t have any condoms,” he admitted, voice wrecked.

Maybe it was foolish of you, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. Not when you were so close to having him inside you, skin to skin, after going so long without. You wrapped your arms around his neck and said, “I don’t care. Take me raw.”

Rhett grunted, jaw tightening, lashes fluttering as his pupils dilated. “Fuck. You’re gon’ be the death of me.”

You let your legs fall further apart, giving him full and complete access. But he hesitated, and you could see the wheels turning in his head. “Hold on a minute. I’ve got somethin’ that might be helpful.” 

He moved over you, toward his nightstand. Curiously, you watched as he rummaged through the drawer, and moments later, he held up a bottle of lube. 

“Thought I still had some of this.” He made his way back over to you, situating himself on his knees before you. “Wan’ make sure you can take it without me hurtin’ you.”

You watched as he carefully poured some of the lubricant onto his palm, and your breath hitched when he brought his hand down to his cock, coating it fully. In the soft glow of the lamp above, it glimmered on his skin. 

But he wasn’t finished yet. He poured more of the liquid into his hand, warming it before he lovingly smoothed it over your pussy, prepping you further. 

Then he knelt between your parted legs again, and your heart fluttered in your chest as he aligned himself with you. He slid through your delicate folds once, twice, then let his tip catch against your entrance, drawing a gasp of desire from you. 

When he began to roll his hips forward, your back arched, and you squeezed your eyes shut, relishing in every last second. Inch by inch, he slipped inside you. Arms braced near either side of your head, he held himself steady, grunting lowly as your velvety walls enveloped him. 

As he bottomed out, he let his head fall to your shoulder, where he remained for a few moments, gaining his composure. 

He couldn’t speak. If he tried, he knew his voice would fail him. He’d been rendered utterly speechless as he let it all sink in. This was real. He was here, now, on the floor of his childhood bedroom, with you laid bare beneath him.

For a few moments, you were both still, adjusting to the feeling of him inside you. Tears pricked behind your eyelids, and you focused on breathing deeply. For the first time in a very long time, you felt at peace. Here, joined as one with him. 

He lifted his head from your shoulder and kissed you softly before he broke the silence. “Y’ready?” He asked. Breathless. 

Whining softly, you nodded. “Y-you can move.”

Another kiss was left against the corner of your mouth before he slowly pulled his hips back, inch by inch, before rolling them forward again. You let out a broken moan, suddenly so overwhelmed by him. He swallowed the sound, mouth open against yours as he drew back again, only to fill you up all over again. Your chest heaved. The tears in your eyes finally made their way down your cheeks.

The drag of his thick cock was so slow it was almost not enough, yet too much all at once. You could only focus on him. His comforting warmth, his familiar scent, the pleasured sounds rumbling deep within his chest. 

Outside, the wind and rain wreaked havoc, but inside, you were safe, shielded by your lover, lost in the way he made you feel. You didn’t realize how much you’d truly missed him until this very moment. It hit you all at once, like a kick to the stomach, knocking the air out of your lungs.

Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, burying your face against the crook of his neck as he moved. You breathed him in. Earthy, musky, and so familiar. You wished to bottle up his scent so you could have it with you forever.

“Missed y’so much,” Rhett spoke, voice trembling. He leaned back so he could look fully into your face. When he saw your tear streaked face, he lifted his hand and lovingly wiped the tears away with his fingers. “Can’t believe you’re in m’ arms again.”

Then he was kissing you deeply as he picked up the pace of his thrusts, causing you to moan brokenly into his mouth at the feeling. You threw your head back as he built a rhythm. Back and forth, faster and deeper. You felt so indescribably full. He didn’t want to ruin that closeness, so he kept his movements contained, barely pulling his hips back, moving in a pulsing motion. 

He was so deep that you could feel every ridge and vein of his cock, creating this wonderfully delicious friction within you. It took your breath away and made your head spin all at once. 

You let your eyes fall shut and you whimpered as he kept rutting into you, stretching you, fulfilling your needs in ways you never could have imagined. This felt right. Your bodies joined as one. One soul. One heart. 

“You feel so good,” you breathed, unashamed of the tears still streaming down your cheeks. “So good.”

Rhett could hardly utter a reply. He was breathless, his ever sense overwhelmed by you. Nothing else mattered. Here, on his bedroom floor, with you laid out so beautifully beneath him, he didn’t have a care in the world but you.

Again, he leaned back to watch you, in awe of the way you shivered and gasped, your body responding to him, releasing more of your slick around his cock. It sent a crackle of arousal through the base of his spine, and he pulsed inside you. You squeaked softly at the feeling, tightening around him.

He couldn’t resist stealing a glance at the place where your bodies met. His mouth fell open, eyes nearly rolling back. The sight of you stretched around him sent a jolt through him. “Takin’ me so well,” he sighed out. “Like you were always made to.”

You pulled his face back to you, urging him to meet your gaze. “I-I was,” you whispered in agreement. “I was made for you.”

“Yeah?” His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “You’re mine. Always will be.”

You tugged him toward you to kiss him again. “All yours.” 

With one hand braced against the floor, he brought his other down between your bodies, fingers locating your swollen little button, so sensitive to his touch. You whined out his name, back arching off the floor. He purposed in himself that he was going to make you come before he ever did, because he wanted to feel the way your sweet pussy fluttered and clenched around him as you fell apart.

The sound you made as he swirled his fingers against you was music to his ears. The sweetest whimper he’d ever heard.

He kissed your tears away, a loving gesture that only served to bring even more tears down your cheeks. 

As you looked up at him, you were overcome. It hit you like a ton of bricks, knocking the wind right out of you. You brought your trembling hands to his face, cupping his cheeks, committing every part of him to memory. 

The love you felt for him was so deep, so intense, that you couldn’t put it into words. All you could do was cry. And you did. 

He lowered his head, forehead resting against your own. He slowed down his pace just a little, and it made you feel impossibly closer to him. “Shh, I’m right here,” he soothed. “Don’t need t’cry, honeybee.”

“I-I-I just…I can’t believe I get a second chance with you.”

It was his turn to grow overcome with emotion. His eyes fluttered, and he let out a soft breath, nuzzling his nose against yours. “I know,” he whispered. His mouth was on yours, kissing you delicately, encasing you in love and devotion. 

His hand had stilled between your legs, but he soon resumed his movements, fingers swirling as he kissed you. How was it that you could feel such deep emotion and pleasure all at once? It felt as if your body might explode into millions of stars from it all. 

You wished that you were more eloquent. That you could find the words to tell him how you truly felt. But it seemed as if he already knew what was in your heart. Because it was in his, too. That all consuming love that he’d always had for you. Something that would never die. 

Everything had taken on a new meaning. This wasn’t just the two of you making love on his bedroom floor. It was the joining of two wandering souls as one. And you gave yourself to him as he kissed you. Pouring every part of yourselves into that kiss.

You felt as if you might float away. And yet, there Rhett was, anchoring you, keeping you tethered to the earth. To him. 

Beyond you both, thunder once again rolled across the night sky, your only reminder of the danger that lingered just beyond the walls of the Abbott home. It didn’t matter. None of it did. Not when you were sighing, trembling, weeping in his arms. Baring all the intimate parts of yourself to him. 

You were climbing toward that peak now. Even as your tears fell and you cried softly against his mouth, a familiar, enticing heat had begun to spread through your lower abdomen. 

Subtle at first, but soon, it began to spread throughout your extremities. From the top of your head to the soles of your feet. Rhett could feel it, too. The way you tightened and gushed around him. 

“Oh, honey,” he sighed. “You’re close, ain’t ya?”

At which you nodded, bottom lip quivering. 

“Poor thing. Don’t worry, I’ll get you there.” 

You let him take control entirely. You both realized that although you’d been apart for so long, he still knew your body well. For him, it felt like getting right back in the saddle. Natural. Comfortable. 

When he moved to switch positions, you let him, trusting him without question. He was gentle as he guided you up and into his lap, still nestled snugly inside you as he settled onto his knees. 

You were face to face, chest to chest, hip to hip. Now, as he held you in his big arms, it felt all the more intimate, if that was at all possible. He cradled you as if you were the most precious thing to him. And, truly, you were.

“Move your hips with me baby,” he urged, voice a whisper against your heated skin, dancing across your collarbone. 

With your arms strewn around his shoulders, you tentatively rolled your hips, and when it elicited a gasp from him, you were emboldened to build your own rhythm. There was nothing rushed or frantic about it. You simply took the time to enjoy each other’s bodies, as you climbed toward that glorious peak. 

His hand was between your thighs again, fingers pressed against you, swirling firmly, deliberately. He kept his forehead against your own, eager to watch your face. God, you were the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. Your brow furrowed in pleasure, eyes going out of focus. 

And it was all because of him. It made his chest swell with pride to know he was the reason you were overcome with bliss. 

He kept his movements slow and even, so deep inside you that neither of you could tell where he ended and you began. You were certain that you would ache with emptiness once you parted, but for now, you were content to be in the moment and relish in the fullness. 

However, you were quickly beginning to lose yourself. Part of you never wanted it to end. You wanted to stay like this forever, the electricity of desire crackling beneath your skin, along the base of your spine. And yet, you also wanted so badly to come for him. 

“S’okay, honeybee,” he was struggling to form syllables, his breathing rushed. “Let go when y’need to.”

His lips were warm and open against yours, tongue laving at your bottom lip, asking for entrance, which you granted. Moaning into each other’s mouths, losing yourselves in the moment. 

You expected your orgasm to hit you like a ton of bricks. Perhaps you’d have to bite down on his shoulder to suppress your scream so as not to wake the entire house. What you didn’t expect, however, was the opposite. 

It didn’t hit you hard and sudden. No, it was gradual. Like the spark that started the wildfire. So small, yet able to grow into something so wild and unkempt. You felt it in your lower belly first. As if someone had taken hold of the very core of your being and tugged, like a rope being pulled taut. It wasn’t long before the delicious warmth began to spread further into your extremities. 

You were a live wire, thrumming with electricity. “Rhett,” you heard yourself gasp, and you buried your face against the crook of his neck as you began to tremble. 

He spoke again, but you couldn’t hear it over the rush of blood in your ears. The range of motion between you was so minimal, and yet it was sending you toward cloud nine. Slow, deliberate grinding, building and building and building until you knew you were too far gone to hold yourself back. 

Then he was tilting your head back, hand cradling your neck as he sighed into your open mouth, “Come for me, sweet darlin’.”

And you did. 

As it ebbed through you, you were engulfed in the most comforting feeling you had ever experienced. You locked eyes with him, and he watched in amazement as you unraveled. Your face contorted into an expression of raw, unabashed pleasure. 

It ebbed and flowed through your body, rising to meet you like the warm waves of the ocean, heated by the summer sun. 

And you smiled. A wide, blissful smile as you shuddered in his arms, wholly and utterly satiated. It was as if part of yourself had been missing and was now found. You felt complete and fulfilled in a way that mere mortal words could not describe. 

As you floated down from your peak, Rhett was barely holding it together. With trembling hands you held his face and kissed him, rocking in his lap, knowing that he, too, needed to reach his end. 

“I love you,” you gasped as you moved, shivering from sensitivity as your puffy center brushed against the base of him. 

He let out a high-pitched keen, deep in his throat, and squeezed his eyes shut. “S-say it again,” he sighed, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. 

You picked up your pace, knowing he was almost there just by the pulse of him inside you. “I love you.”

This time, his head fell back, his mouth open to let out his broken moans. He was so close. It clouded his every sense, consuming his being. “Again. Please. Say it again.” If he wasn’t so wrapped up in the moment, he might have marveled at the tears that had begun to roll down his cheeks. 

With one hand still holding his face, and your other arm now wrapped around his shoulders, you cried out, “I love you, I love you, I love you!”

His own hands immediately came up to grip your hips and he let out the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. A cross between a groan and a sob. He had to muffle it by hiding his face against your shoulder. 

You felt it then. The warmth of his very essence spilling into the deepest part of you, claiming you, filling you to the brim. You took it all, slowing down until you finally rested still against him as he shuddered from the aftershocks. 

You weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed like that, bodies intertwined. After a while, you felt him begin to soften, and gravity took over as his spent cock slipped from the confines of your slick heat. 

And oh, how empty you felt without him there to fill you. However, all at once, you were content. For the first time in a long time, you felt alive once again. 

As the afterglow settled in, Rhett lifted his head and offered a sheepish smile. “Was that alright, honeybee?” The tips of his ears went pink. 

You hugged him close. “It was everything I needed,” you replied with honesty, punctuated with a loving kiss to his lips. “You’re everything I needed.”

The look of pure adoration in his face made it all worth it. 

You weren’t sure who initiated it, but soon, you’d switched positions and settled against the mound of pillows and blankets, with your head resting against Rhett’s chest, right over the place where his bull and rider tattoo was. 

His fingers traced patterns along your spine, as your own fingers trailed absently over the expanse of his chest. You knew that you should eventually move and get cleaned up before you fell asleep like this, but neither of you wanted to break the spell. 

Rain pattered gently against the window. It seemed that the storm had begun to fade, leaving behind a quiet, sleepy earth in its wake. 

“Did’ya ever think we’d end up like this?” Rhett spoke into the comfortable silence of the room. 

You hummed. “Before I came back, I didn’t.”

His fingers stilled against your back. “When did it change for you?”

“The night of the rodeo,” came your reply. 

“For me, it was the first time I saw you after you came back. Brought all these feelin’s back that I tried to ignore. But then I held ya when you jumped outta the truck durin’ that twister. And then I, uh, saw you when you ran out the bathroom to grab a towel.” Mirth was in his tone as he said the last part. 

You couldn’t help but smile. “God, I was so embarrassed about that,” you admitted. 

“S’alright. Nothin’ to be embarrassed about.” He resumed the gentle patterns against your back with his fingers. “I sure am glad I got to see ya naked again, though.”

You lifted your head and slapped his chest lightly. “Hey now,” you scolded, humorously so. 

His mouth curved into a good-natured smile. When he leaned in to peck your lips again, you eagerly accepted the kiss. 

But it was soon time for the conversation to turn serious. Rhett’s lashes fluttered, his eyes growing misty. 

“I gotta ask…what does this mean for us? Because I need y’to know, I’m serious about you. We ain’t two kids fresh outta high school anymore. If we’re doin’ this, I wanna do it right. I want to make this relationship work. But only if you want that, too.”

You let out a soft breath, absently tracing his chest tattoo. In your heart of hearts, you knew what you wanted. “I do want that. I’m not about to walk away from you again, I promise you that much. But I’ve gotta figure out what I’m doing with work. I don’t want to go through a long distance thing.”

His brow furrowed slightly as he placed his warm hand over your own, giving it a squeeze. “I could…I could move to Maryland with ya.”

You met his gaze. “You? Leave Wabang?”

“What? I could do it.”

“You’d hate the city, Rhett. You’d hate living in my one-bedroom apartment. I know you love this place and it’s where you’re happiest. You don’t need to sacrifice that on account of me.”

“Doesn’t matter where I’m livin’, as long as I’ve got you.”

Your heart clenched at his words, and you nuzzled your nose against his. “I’ll figure it out. But I want to make this work, more than anything.”

“So do I.” Rhett was willing to go to the ends of the earth, if it meant he got to be with you. If he had to move to the city to do so, then so be it. 

For now, he was content to share this moment with you, bodies entangled on his bedroom floor. It reminded him of days gone by. And if only for a moment, he could close his eyes and go back to that time. When you were young and in love. When his brother was still alive. When life felt safe and hopeful, as if nothing bad could ever happen. 

But it did happen. The bull riding memorabilia that currently surrounded you both was a reminder of what he’d lost when he took a horn to the gut. The first bitter taste of reality he’d gotten as a young man. Little did he know that just a few years later, he’d lose three of the most important people in his life, and that injury would feel like a mere paper cut compared to the agony of grief. 

How far both of you had come since then. You’d conquered your fear of storm chasing. He’d conquered his fear of bull riding. And it had brought you both together again. 

The truth was, you’d needed to go on your own respective journeys of healing so you could return to each other as better versions of yourselves. 

“I guess we should get cleaned up,” your sleepy voice pulled him from his thoughts. 

He smiled, lips brushing against your forehead. “Guess we should. I’m about t’ fall asleep on this floor, and I know I’m gonna regret it in the mornin’ when my back is fucked up.”

Reluctantly, you sat up, immediately missing his warmth as the cool air rushed over your skin. Rhett stood, his knees popping slightly as he did so, and he reached for your hand, pulling you up with him. 

The evidence of your combined releases was slick against your inner thighs, and you were reminded of what you’d just done. The way he’d just made love to you. It sent a rush of warmth down your spine. 

“I’m all wet,” you murmured shyly. 

Rhett grunted softly. He could see the milky white glistening on your skin, and he had to avert his gaze, because he knew he’d wind up taking you all over again, and you were both much too tired to withstand another round. 

“I…I can help clean ya up?” He offered with an earnest smile. 

You decided to take him up on that, which led to you both sneaking across the hall and into the bathroom, where Rhett so lovingly wiped you clean. It reminded you of the past, where he had been so eager to learn how to care for you after sex. It had been a learning curve for both of you, being each other’s firsts. It had been such a special experience, one that you cherished to this day.

“Y’ready for bed now, honeybee?” He asked, once you were clean and had brushed your teeth. 

You nodded, and together, you tiptoed back across the hall, feeling much like your teenage selves, trying not to get caught by Cecilia whenever you’d sneak into Rhett’s room in the middle of the night. 

When you were safely closed into the confines of his bedroom again, you both scrambled to pick up all the pillows and blankets so you could settle into bed. 

“Ain’t much room in the bed. Guess we’ll have to snuggle up real close,” Rhett said with a grin. 

You stepped into his warmth, kissing his jaw. “I’m fine with that. Reminds me of all the times we used to squeeze into this thing together.”

Rhett was more than happy to have someone to cuddle up to again. His bed had been empty for far too long. And as he climbed beneath the covers that night, your body curled against his own, a sense of peace washed over him. 

You nestled your head against his chest, and he felt a sense of protectiveness overcome him. He would watch over you while you slept. You were safe with him. You always would be. 

When he fell asleep that night, his dreams were filled with flashes of your beautiful face, and he slept better than he had in years.

-

taglist:

@ryebecca @peachystenbrough @attapullman @sebsxphia @damrlova

@fragilefearnie @floydsmuse @versipellesh @lovinglyeternal @likearolloftape

@bobfloydsbabe @nobody7102 @mearslot @torturedpoetspsychward @floydsglasses

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

@queenbbarnes @phoenixhalliwell @lyn-js @sunsetsimpsblog @ixxvixcviii

@shinycupcakebaker @frequentnosebleeder @atoncments @eolsens @casuallyclassless

@desert-fern @perfectprettypisces @parcetamoldaisy @zirrocom @rhettsgirll

@just-in-case-iloveyou @ada--44 @sydney-malcontent @9ullmans @callsignmedusa

@antiquitea @ohmyeyesmyeyes @spidervman @oddlymighty-witch @fairyheart

@kissmecaitie @dreams-in-anthracis @rhettmotel

[tac-the-unseen]

How each slasher would kill you!

Micheal Myers:

•Makes it's shockingly quick and easy for you

•He slams her knife down and impales you through the skull

•He takes out his knife and leaves you there

•Might even steal something from you

Billy loomis:

•Slams you into wall and guts you

•Makes some relevant quip about your predicament

•Steps back to watch you to bleed out on the floor

•Waves goodbye as you finally die

Stu macher:

•Jumps on top of you while you're laying down

•Stabs you repeatedly in the chest

•Doesn’t waste time (for whatever reason)

•Giggles the whole time

Thomas Hewitt:

•Chases you around his home with his family looking all over for you

•He catches you completely unaware and from behind

•Saws you in half by the hips

•sits your top half up and leaves your bottom half

Bubba Sawyer:

•Bashes you head in and puts you on a hook

•Cuts you up to store you easily in the deep freezer

•You never saw it coming

•Hopes is brother turns you into meatloaf

Bo Sinclair:

•Shoots you in the chest three times from the window of his shop

•Pats himself on the back and leaves you in the grass while he smokes

•After a few minutes he gets up and starts dragging you to his brother

•Brags about it for the rest of the night

Vincent Sinclair:

•Drowns you in a vat of wax

•He pushes your head into the heated wax and waits for you to stop moving

•While he waits he thinks of all the things he could do to sculpt you a new face

•leaves your body on the ground to go sketch up some ideas

Lester Sinclair:

•Hits you with his truck then comes out to decapitate you with his shovel

•Apologizes the whole time

•Tells your corpse about this being his ‘brothers doing’

•cuts of a finger and buries it outside

Billy Lenz:

•Slits your throat while at a party

•Calls you names the whole time

•Leaves you for the others to find

•Practically gets off when he hears other scream in horror

Brahms Heelshire:

•Strangles you with a lamp cord

•He’s much stronger than he looks

•He lets you struggle but doesn't let you go until your gone

•Carries your body to the garden and leaves you in the flower beds

Hannibal Lecter:

•You thought you were safe at that dinner party

•What no one expected was you to fall on to the floor

•Poison, That's how you knew he didn't like you

•He didn't eat you, he left you for the cleaners

Will Graham:

•Chokes you out then Snaps your neck after you try and escape

•Tells you all his thoughts while you claw at his face

•once you're dead he breathes the biggest sigh of relief and hunches over your body

•Gives you to Hannibal as a present

The Lost Boys:

•They lure you in and quickly starts attacking you Once you're in a secluded area

•They slit your throat, Not deep enough to kill you instantly

•They let you try and run (more like hobble) away just to chase you

•They finally kill you by eating you alive

Thank you for reading <3

I know I keep saying this but I swear they're almost done, I just have the AO3 author curse! (It's weirdly both a good and bad thing)

So here's is a quick please forgive me for taking so long! 🥺🙏

[stxrshxpxd]

his precious

pairing: jim halpert x reader

word count: 1k

warning: none

prompt: reader is nervous about a sales meeting and her flirty office bestie jim helps her out

I couldn’t stop the sigh that ripped from my chest as I sat down in my chair and dropped my bag on the floor all in one heavy movement. I had dreaded this day for about a week. Jim’s eyes were on me instantly from my left.

“Morning,” he said cautiously, almost in a question.

“Goodnight,” I replied and laid my head on my forearm, enjoying a moment of pitch black behind my closed eyelids. Jim laughed weakly and it brought a little joy to my dark core.

“What’s up?”

When I peeked back up I saw he had lowered his head too, peering at me from under his soft fringe and with his chin pressing into his own forearm. It felt strangely intimate and the whole thing made my belly flutter shortly.

“Sleep bad?” he asked again.

“I guess.”

Sitting up straight, I sighed again and watched him mirror my action. His eyes were big and sweet and seemed to have no interest in abandoning me for his computer screen.

“I have that sales pitch with the library today, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m the worst salesman this office has ever seen.”

I truly couldn’t remember the last sale I had closed and the last time my salary was anything above bare minimum. Knowing that in about an hour I would have to sit in that meeting and fail once again made my stomach twist with anxiety.

“Wait, you’re going with...” Jim started and his face contorted with some amusement as he knew the answer but wouldn’t say it.

“Dwight,” I finished his thought with a firm nod and Jim tried to contain his playful smirk at my misery.

“By all means, bask in my pain.”

“I’m sorry,” he laughed and leaned forward, petting my arm swiftly with his hand. His warm fingers sent tingles through my body and another type of anxiety settled in my abdomen. I definitely thought Jim had begun touching me a lot more in the last few weeks. He always seemed to stand closer than normal and went out of his way to whisper inside jokes during meetings. It all made me terribly hopeful that he might be feeling what I’m feeling.

“Dwight’ll close it though, you just-“

“No, cause I’m supposed to lead the whole thing. So that I learn or whatever,” I cut him off and sank down in my seat. “Besides, I don’t think Dwight possesses enough empathy to step in and save me from failing.”

“He definitely doesn’t,” Jim agreed and I sighed once again, readying myself to lay my head down against my desk and close my eyes for another few minutes. But then Dwight came back from the kitchen with a cup of coffee in his hand, and, more interestingly, Jim fully grabbed my wrist. It made my heart jump and I stumbled after him, allowing him to lead me away with a mischievous smirk.

Pulling me into the kitchen, Jim let go of me but stayed close as he fished his cell phone out of his pant pocket. Hushing me, he leaned in even closer and pointed at Dwight’s back in the distance while he held the ringing phone between our ears. I had caught on to what he was doing, but I couldn’t focus at all with his nose an inch away from mine. For three dial tones everything was still and quiet and I swore I could feel his soft breaths. Then Dwight picked up.

“Hello.”

“Hey, uhh,” Jim began in a deep, contorted voice. “Is this Mr. Scoot?”

I had to cover my mouth to keep from giggling at Jim’s indecipherable accent and he silently hushed me and then bit down on his lip, his smile slightly slanted and so pretty.

“It’s Mr. Schrute.” Dwight corrected and I glanced at him shifting in his seat.

“Right, right. My bad, sir. Well. I have a truck full of hay here at your door and there ain’t nobody here to sign for it. Now, I could-”

“It wasn’t supposed to come until next Thursday!” Dwight cut off and I smiled at Jim’s animated sigh of relief. His plan had worked.

“I will be there as soon as I can,” Dwight blurted in our ears and I watched him slam the phone, already heading in our direction. Jim was quick to hide his phone in his pocket again and swiveled around to act occupied, scanning the insides of the nearest cupboard.

“Jim! I have to go. Hay emergency. You’re taking my place on the library sales pitch with your precious Y/N,” Dwight exclaimed with some disdain and was out of there as quickly as he had entered, leaving me alone again with Jim and his now violently blushing cheeks. My heart had dropped and then jumped up to my throat. It took a moment before he looked at me again and either of us spoke. His precious Y/N. Had he been talking about me with Dwight? That didn’t sound right. Were we that obviously flirty?

“Thank you,” I laughed emptily and Jim looked at me for a second before gazing down at his shoes.

“Yep, no problem,” he laughed back and rubbed his neck.

Yet another long moment passed of quiet and discomfort. My heart pounded in my chest as I stared at Jim’s golden brown hair and down his tall body, dressed in his usual black and white. He looked so good.

At last I tried to steer us back to our normal repertoire.

“Man, I can’t wait to see Dwight’s face when he gets back here.”

“Oh, he’ll kill me,” Jim nodded, his cheeks having lost some of their red tint and the tension easing again. “Luckily I’m bigger than him.”

“He’s stronger,” I teased and began heading out of the kitchen.

“Hey, I just helped you out majorly. Watch it, Y/L/N!” Jim joked and followed me out to our desks. I caught a big glimmer in his eyes as he smiled and laughed with me, and my belly flipped again.

“Okay, let’s go over this pitch.”