#when my dad and I would go for a drive almost always something would happen-

[chimcess]

⮞ Chapter One: Homecoming Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Other Tags: Hockey Player!Jungkook, Figure Skater!Reader, Hockey Player!Taehyung, Hockey Player!Jimin, Hockey Player!Namjoon, Hockey Player!Hoseok, Figure Skater!Jin, Coach!Yoongi Genre: Hockey!AU, Figure Skating!AU, Olympic!AU, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Self-Discovery, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn Word Count: 19.1k+ Summary: Y/N Y/L/N has always been destined for greatness as a competitive figure skater, her dreams of the Olympics sparkling like the ice beneath her blades. But when a devastating injury sidelines her, those dreams seem to melt away. Just when she feels lost, she unexpectedly meets Jeon Jungkook, a talented NHL hockey player. Warnings: Reader is injured and still using crutches, meet-cute reference to an unhealthy relationship with mom, absent father, parental issues, pining, low self-esteem, reader has anxiety, reader is very stressed out, honestly my girl is just exhausted, very pushy neighbors (but we love them for it), Taehyung is adopted, this is really just an introduction to everyone so not many warnings here... A/N: Happy New Year! Let's kick things off with a new massive series. This one will touch on very heavy topics such as toxic parents, mental health issues, and non-consensual touching. Please proceed with caution. New Chapters every month!

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I never used to think about what came next. Why would I? It felt pointless, like trying to guess the ending of a book while you were still tangled in the messy, middle chapters. Life just kept happening—fast, breathless, one page after another. And sometimes, if you were lucky, you got close to something that felt like a dream. So close you could almost taste it. But right when you reached for it? That’s when life reminded you—books close, lights go out, and suddenly, you’re right back where you started.

Normal? I wouldn’t know normal if it walked up and smacked me in the face. Normal was for people who wore stiff blazers and drank bad office coffee. My mornings started in the dark—lacing up my skates, the air so cold it bit at my skin. Stretch until it hurt. Practice until the moves weren’t moves anymore, just instinct. The rink smelled like sweat and frost and that sharp, unmistakable scent of wanting something too much. It clung to me.

That was my life. Until it wasn’t.

I don’t even remember learning how to skate. I just always had. The ice was the one place that made sense, the only place where my body and my brain felt like they belonged to the same person. My mom, Emily, saw it first. That spark in me. And once she saw it, she never let go. She didn’t just support me—she pushed. Hard. Like a storm rolling in, relentless and all-consuming. Maybe to her, that’s what love looked like.

People whispered about her. Said she was chasing her own lost dreams through me. Maybe she was. But I never resented her for it. Her ambition was like a fire—sometimes too hot, sometimes too much. But it kept me warm. Even when it burned.

She’d been a skater once, too. Until life happened. Until she got pregnant with me, married my dad, Jim, and let go of whatever dreams she had left. Some people move on. She never did. She carried that regret around like a weight, year after year, until all she had left was me. And the ice. I was her second chance.

She met Jim when she was still young and restless, and he was passing through town for police training. They fell in love, or at least, something close enough to it. Then I came along. A courthouse wedding, a move, a slow unraveling. Eventually, Emily and I left for Colorado—chasing the ice, chasing the dream. Jim stayed in Olympia, sinking into his routine until it swallowed him whole. I became the thing in between, stretched between my dad’s steady, distant world and my mom’s all-or-nothing drive.

Michigan wasn’t home anymore. Hadn’t been for years. But here I was.

The intercom crackled to life, yanking me out of my head.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain. We’re beginning our descent into Detroit, where it’s currently five-eighteen p.m. and a frigid fifteen degrees Fahrenheit. Please secure your belongings.”

Fifteen degrees. Typical Michigan.

I stared out the window, my knee aching, a bitter little reminder. I was supposed to meet Dr. Jeon on Monday. People swore he was the best. But I already knew it didn’t matter. The moment my skate caught that rough patch of ice, when my body twisted and my world turned upside down—I knew.

It was over.

I could still see it, clear as a photograph: the rink bathed in pale afternoon light, Swan Lake drifting through the air. I wasn’t even competing, just skating for the sake of skating. My mom and my coach sat in the stands, talking about my next routine. I picked up speed, heading into a fan spiral—when it happened. My blade caught. My leg gave out. I went down hard.

The plane’s landing gear hit the tarmac with a screech, shaking the memory loose. My heart pounded. I gripped the armrest, swallowing against the lump in my throat.

Passengers stood, jostling for overhead bags, but I stayed put. No point in rushing. My crutches were cold in my hands, awkward, unfamiliar. A few months ago, I could glide across the ice like I belonged there. And now? Now I could barely walk through an airport without feeling like I might tip over.

At baggage claim, I stared at the conveyor belt, watching suitcases circle like they had all the time in the world. My hands were full. My leg was useless.

"You need a hand?"

The voice came out of nowhere. I flinched, turning too fast, and there he was—tall, brown-eyed, and looking at me like he could see straight through all my carefully constructed defenses. Before I could respond, someone bumped into me, and my crutch slipped from my grip, clattering against the floor.

I wobbled, reaching out for something—anything—to steady myself. But he was faster. His hands caught my arms, firm but gentle, like he’d done this before. Like he knew exactly how to keep someone from falling.

For a second, the world around us—the airport, the noise, the blur of people—just stopped.

"You okay?" His voice was warm, steady, like it belonged to someone who never panicked.

I nodded quickly, my face heating. "Yeah. Fine." A lie, probably. But what else was I supposed to say? No, actually, I’m currently living my worst nightmare, thanks for asking?

He let go slowly, like he was making sure I wouldn’t tip over again, and bent down to grab my crutch. When he handed it back, his eyes lingered—not with pity, but something else. Something softer.

"Thanks," I muttered, gripping the crutch tighter than necessary.

He smiled—easy, unbothered. "No problem." But there was something behind it, like maybe he had more to say.

The airport rushed back to life around us. People zigzagging past, voices bouncing off the high ceilings, the endless hum of somewhere-to-be energy. But for just a moment, it still felt like we were in a separate, quieter place.

He glanced at the mess of luggage by my feet. "Need help with your bags?"

My pride answered before logic could. "I’ve got it."

Which was a bold thing to say, considering I clearly did not have it. My knee throbbed, like it was rolling its metaphorical eyes at me.

But he didn’t argue. Just shrugged, like it was all the same to him. "Alright. But it’s no trouble if you change your mind."

I shifted my weight, felt the sharp twinge, and sighed. "Okay, yeah. I could use some help."

The words tasted weird in my mouth. He didn’t seem to notice. He just grabbed my suitcase like it weighed nothing, balancing my smaller bag on top.

"Someone picking you up?" he asked as we made our way toward the sliding glass doors, where the cold Michigan air lurked like a villain in a horror movie.

"Nope. Just grabbing a cab," I said, weaving through the crowd. But I was aware of him next to me, solid and steady, like an anchor I hadn’t realized I needed.

"I’ve got my car in the overnight lot," he said, so casually it almost sounded like a throwaway offer. "I could give you a ride."

I hesitated. Too fast. "No, it’s okay," I said, maybe a little too quick, a little too sharp.

Something flickered across his face—disappointment? Or was I just imagining it?

We stepped outside, and the cold hit. Hard. I sucked in a sharp breath, my fingers instantly regretting every life choice that led to me not bringing gloves.

He noticed. His mouth twitched into a knowing smile. "Forgot what Michigan feels like in January?"

"Yeah," I muttered, hugging my coat closer. "Something like that."

I should be used to it. I grew up on ice, for God’s sake. But this cold felt different. It wasn’t just outside—it was creeping in, settling deep, gnawing at something raw.

"So, where were you before this?" he asked, breath curling into the air like smoke.

"Nevada. Before that, Colorado. We moved around a lot." I didn’t even know why I was telling him this. I didn’t even know him.

"We?" He raised an eyebrow, like he already knew the answer but wanted me to say it anyway.

"Me and my mom," I said, my voice quieter now. "She’s not really the ‘stay in one place’ type."

He nodded, like that made perfect sense. "A modern-day nomad. Sounds... exhausting."

I let out a small laugh, more reflex than anything. "Yeah. It can be."

And maybe it was just the exhaustion, or the cold, or the fact that he felt easy to talk to, but this whole conversation was starting to feel less strange. Less like a fleeting airport moment and more like something solid.

"You staying here for a while?" he asked, his dark eyes locking with mine, the cold suddenly not as noticeable.

"For the foreseeable future," I said, surprising myself with how easily it came out.

"Good to know." His voice softened, like it was some kind of inside joke I didn’t know we were sharing yet. And that crooked smile? Yeah. Dangerous.

My pulse did something stupid.

What was I even doing? Standing here, flirting with a stranger in the dead of winter? This wasn’t real life—this was the kind of thing that only happened in bad rom-coms and half-formed daydreams. But with him, it felt real. Too real.

"Maybe I’ll see you around," he said, running a hand through his hair, which—of course—fell back into place in that perfectly messy, I-don’t-care-but-I-do way.

"Yeah, maybe," I said, even though I wasn’t sure I believed it.

"You live nearby?"

I should already be in a cab. I should be out of this cold, heading toward whatever was left of my life. But instead, I was still standing here, asking questions I had no business asking.

"Detroit," he said, his breath hanging in the air like something unfinished.

"Me too," I blurted out. "Just moved there, actually."

"Downtown?" He asked it like my answer mattered more than it should.

"Royal Oak," I said. "The old houses there... they’re beautiful."

"They are," he agreed, and there was something in the way he said it, like he was noticing things about me I didn’t even realize I was showing. His gaze flicked from my eyes to my lips, and for a second, the space between us felt smaller, thinner, like something was about to snap.

Then the wind did it for us, slicing between us like a blade.

"Welcome to Michigan," he said, laughing, his voice warm against the cold.

And then, before I could react, before I could process anything, he reached down and took my bare hands in his.

His hands were warm. Too warm. Like touching them had flipped some hidden switch inside me.

I felt it. Everywhere.

For a second, I swore the ground shifted.

"We should get you a cab," he said, glancing down at my frozen fingers, his expression softer now. "You’re not exactly dressed for this weather."

"Yeah, I probably should’ve planned better," I admitted with a laugh, but I was barely paying attention to the cold anymore. Just the heat from his hands, the way they made everything else feel less cold.

He waved down a cab like he’d done it a hundred times before, easy and effortless. I stood there, watching as he loaded my bags into the trunk, every movement feeling like a countdown. And then, when he pulled open the door for me, I just... stood there.

At the edge of the moment. Caught between stepping forward and holding still. Between leaving and staying.

“Thanks for the help,” I said, looking up at him, my heart knocking against my ribs.

“Jungkook,” he said, soft, like he was handing me something delicate. His smile was still there, tugging at the corner of his mouth like he wasn’t ready to let it go just yet. “I’m Jungkook.”

“Y/N,” I replied, my own name slipping out so easily, like it had been waiting to be said here, in this exact moment, in this freezing air between us.

He repeated it—slowly, like he was trying it on. Like it was something worth holding in his mouth for a second longer. “Y/N,” he said again, quieter this time. And then he leaned in, just a little, like he was about to tell me a secret.

And suddenly, everything else—the cold, the noise, the rush of people around us—blurred out. It was just him, standing too close, that crooked grin making me wonder if maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t the end of whatever this was.

“Yeah, Jungkook?” I asked, my breath hitching, anticipation curling in my stomach.

“My friends and I... we go to this bar on Grand most Tuesdays. Bronx?” He said it like a casual suggestion, but it wasn’t casual. It was a bridge. A next step. “Maybe I’ll see you there sometime?”

A thrill shot through me—quick and unexpected. He wanted to see me again.

“Yeah,” I stammered, trying to sound normal, trying to sound like my pulse wasn’t suddenly in my throat. “I could swing by. Once I’m settled in.”

“Great.” His whole face lit up, and it was like watching a door crack open, just enough to glimpse something softer behind it. "I’ll see you around then, Y/N."

And just like that, he stepped back, shut the door behind me, and the moment ended.

The cab pulled away, and I turned, craning for one last look. He was still standing there, hands stuffed into his coat pockets, watching me go. When he caught my gaze, he waved, easy and casual, like this whole thing hadn’t just knocked the wind out of me. I lifted my hand in return, but my chest was still tight, my heart still racing.

I slumped back against the seat, pressing my forehead to the cold window, hoping the chill would slow my thoughts down. Because now that I was alone, the doubts started creeping in. The what-ifs.

Would I actually show up at Bronx? Or would I do what I always did—let the moment fade, tell myself it wasn’t real, convince myself it was just a weird, fleeting connection that didn’t actually mean anything?

But then I thought about him. About that lopsided smile. The way he said my name like it was something worth remembering. And for the first time in a long time, I let myself wonder...

What if?

It was a little past seven when the cab finally rolled to a stop in front of my new apartment building. The sky had darkened into that deep, bruised purple, the kind that makes the world feel just a little heavier. The cold hit me full force as I climbed out, my crutches clattering against the pavement.

I was so tired. That kind of exhaustion that settles into your bones, heavy and unshakable.

The doorman noticed immediately—a grizzled guy with kind eyes and the weary patience of someone who had seen a lot of people start over. He moved toward me with the kind of practiced ease that made it clear he had done this before. Watched people show up with too many bags and too many hopes. Watched them leave, sometimes with less of both.

Without a word, he took my luggage, leading me toward the elevator like it was second nature.

Apartment 311 smelled like fresh paint and nothing else. The kind of emptiness that didn’t just sit in the air—it echoed. My footsteps bounced off the bare walls, and for a second, it felt like I was in a storage unit, not a home. No couch. No bed. Just a hollow space waiting to be filled with something real.

I let out a long breath. The cold inside the apartment was different from the cold outside—sharper, lonelier. Like even the air hadn’t settled in yet.

I pulled out my phone and ordered a pizza. Pepperoni and mushrooms, with a side of breadsticks. It felt like a stupidly normal thing to do, like maybe if I just ordered dinner, it would trick my brain into thinking everything was fine. That this wasn’t weird. That I wasn’t standing in the middle of an empty apartment with nothing but a suitcase and a sinking feeling in my stomach.

By the time I hung up, the ache in my chest had settled in for the night. This was real. No backing out now.

I called Emily.

Her voice was a mix of relief and tension, like she wanted to be happy I’d made it but also wanted to remind me that I had things to do. That I had to get back to training. That I couldn’t just pause. But I was pausing. I was standing in an apartment with no furniture, staring at the ceiling like it might have answers. And I just... couldn’t deal with it right now.

After a few strained minutes, I made an excuse and hung up. The silence rushed back in, filling the space like water, drowning out everything else.

I wandered through the empty rooms, my fingers grazing the white walls. The place felt sterile, like a waiting room for a life I hadn’t started living yet. Outside, the city buzzed—car horns, laughter, people moving through their lives like they knew exactly where they were going. I pressed my forehead to the window, watching them pass. Families. Students. Dog walkers. Everyone seemed to belong to something. To someone.

And me? I felt like a glitch in the system. Like I’d been dropped into the wrong life by accident.

Jungkook’s face flashed in my mind. The way he’d said my name, like it meant something. Like maybe I wasn’t as lost as I felt. I let myself picture it—walking into Bronx on a Tuesday night, catching sight of that crooked grin. It was just a thought, a little flicker of something warm. But I wasn’t ready to let it go just yet.

The apartment was still too empty, but at least tomorrow there’d be furniture. A couch. Shelves. A coffee table, maybe. The kind of things that made a place feel real.

But the real gem of the apartment wasn’t the kitchen or the big windows. It was the alcove by the entrance—a tiny nook with a built-in window seat, framed by bookshelves. A little space that felt hidden from the rest of the world. I could already imagine curling up there on winter nights, listening to the snow tap against the glass. And for the first time since I got here, I could almost picture it—this place turning into something more than just four walls and an address.

A knock at the door snapped me out of it.

I hobbled over, stomach growling. Pizza. Finally.

But when I pulled open the door, it wasn’t the delivery guy.

It was a girl. Petite, but somehow larger than life, dressed in a black knit sweater dress and a sequined mini that shimmered in the dim hallway light. Her hair was buzzed short, dark and soft-looking, and she had cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. But it was her eyes that stopped me—deep brown, warm, familiar.

They reminded me of him.

“Hey!” she chirped, like we were old friends. “I’m Mina. I live in 312. The pizza guy accidentally brought your order to us, so I figured I’d bring it over and say hi.”

I blinked at her. Processing.

“Thanks,” I said finally, shifting on my crutches. “Would you mind setting it in the kitchen? I’m a little... restricted.”

“Of course!” Mina breezed past me like she’d lived here her whole life, her boots clicking against the hardwood. She set the pizza down and turned back, eyes bright with curiosity. “So... what happened?” She gestured at the crutches.

“Sports injury,” I said, keeping it vague. It wasn’t a lie, exactly. Just not the whole truth.

Mina nodded like that was good enough. “Well, I hope you’re healing okay. Must be rough, moving in while dealing with all that.”

“Yeah,” I said, relieved when she didn’t press. “Thanks again for bringing the pizza.”

“No problem! Consider it a ‘Welcome to the Building’ gift.” She grinned, then suddenly froze, her eyes going wide.

“Wait... you don’t have any furniture, do you?”

I sighed. “I’ll figure something out. It’s just one night.”

Mina looked personally offended by this information. Then, before I could stop her, she scooped up the pizza box and waltzed right back out the door.

I just stood there. Staring. Processing.

Did she really just take my dinner?

With a groan, I grabbed my bag and pulled out fleece pants, a tank top, and my track jacket. Changed. Gathered up my toothbrush, phone, and keys. Then, still half-stunned, I hobbled down the hall to apartment 312.

I knocked, my heart pounding for no good reason.

The door creaked open, but it wasn’t Mina standing there.

It was a tall blonde woman—striking in that effortless kind of way, like she had never tripped over a curb in her life. She had long, golden hair that fell like silk, sharp dark eyebrows, and deep brown eyes that were almost black. Where Mina crackled with chaotic energy, this woman felt like still water. Collected. Unshakable. The kind of person who didn’t need to prove anything to anyone.

“Hey, come on in,” she said, her voice low and a little raspy. “Mina said you’d be staying with us tonight.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, stepping inside, feeling weirdly self-conscious. “I don’t want to impose—”

“Nonsense,” she said, waving a hand like my words were actual garbage. “Once Mina decides something, there’s no point arguing. You might as well accept your fate.”

Before I could respond, Mina barreled into the room, now in yoga pants and a t-shirt that looked like it had been washed a thousand times.

“I knew you’d come!” she declared, triumphant.

“Well, you didn’t give me much of a choice,” I said, trying for casual, even though my chest still felt tight. “You did steal my dinner.”

“See? It worked!” Mina grinned, entirely unrepentant. “Trust me, this is way better than eating alone in an empty apartment. You’re smart for coming over.” She paused, eyes widening like she had just remembered something vital. “Oh my God, I didn’t even ask your name. I get so carried away sometimes.”

“Y/N,” I said. “Y/L/N.”

“Welcome, Y/N,” the blonde said, leading me toward the kitchen. “I’m Leera, but you can call me Lucy if you want. And don’t worry—you’ll get used to Mina’s... enthusiasm.”

The apartment was warm and lived-in, a contrast to my own echoing space. I caught sight of the pizza box Mina had stolen—but there were three more stacked on the counter, the air thick with the smell of melted cheese and garlic.

“What’s with all the pizza?” I asked, glancing between them.

“We ordered some too,” Mina said, flipping open a box like a game show host revealing a grand prize. “They just happened to show up at the same time. Fate, obviously.”

Lucy pulled my bottle of Diet Coke out of the fridge and held it up. “Want some ice?” she asked, like she already knew the answer.

“Yeah,” I said. And just like that, I felt some of the tension in my shoulders ease.

It didn’t take long to figure out that Mina and Lucy were more than just roommates. Mina was an event planner—weddings, galas, parties—which made so much sense. Her whole vibe was confetti and last-minute ideas and carrying three coffees at once. Her family was originally from Wisconsin, though her great-grandparents had immigrated from Korea. Lucy, on the other hand, was her exact opposite. She worked in classic car restoration, which honestly stunned me. She had the kind of delicate, elegant energy that made me assume she spent her time doing something refined, like designing couture dresses or sipping espresso in a minimalist art studio. But no, she rebuilt engines. She smelled like vanilla and motor oil.

“Most people don’t believe me when I tell them,” she said, smirking as she popped open a can of sparkling water. “But I love it. It’s in my blood.”

Mina and Lucy weren’t just best friends—they were family, their lives so tightly woven together it was hard to tell where one story ended and the other began. Mina was engaged to Lucy’s brother, and Lucy was dating one of Mina’s. It was the kind of connection that felt inevitable, like the universe had put them in the same orbit on purpose. Every time Mina mentioned her fiancé, Taehyung, or Lucy talked about her boyfriend, Jimin, their expressions softened, like even thinking about them made the world a little warmer.

And somehow, I was here too. Sitting at their kitchen island, laughing, eating stolen pizza like I belonged.

By the time I glanced at the clock, it was past eleven.

Somehow, what was supposed to be a couple of awkward hours had turned into something else entirely—something easy. Something that felt suspiciously like belonging.

“Get used to late nights,” Lucy teased, nudging me with her elbow. “Being our friend means you have to be a night owl.”

Friends?

I wasn’t sure the last time I’d used it to describe myself. Maybe never.

Growing up, there wasn’t space for friends. Emily and my coaches made sure of that. My life had been structured and scheduled within an inch of its existence—early mornings, late nights, a constant push toward something bigger, something better. And at some point, I had started pulling away from people before they had the chance to do it first.

But Mina and Lucy? They weren’t waiting for me to prove anything. They weren’t measuring my worth by what I’d achieved.

They just saw me.

And that was almost scarier than being alone.

“So, Y/N,” Mina said, shattering the comfortable silence. “What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“Big day,” I admitted, exhaustion creeping in. “My furniture’s arriving, plus all my stuff from Nevada. I need to grab groceries. Thought about picking out paint colors, but that might be too ambitious.”

Mina’s face lit up like I’d just invited her to an amusement park. “Need help? I’m free tomorrow. And I’m ridiculously efficient. We’ll knock it all out in no time.” She gestured toward my crutches with a cheeky grin. “Especially since you’re a little limited.”

I hesitated. I wasn’t used to accepting help. But Mina had this way of making it seem like it would be more work to say no.

“That would be great,” I admitted. “Thanks.”

Lucy shot me a knowing look from where she stood by the sink. “Just don’t let her bulldoze you. Once she gets going, she’s unstoppable. Your place will look like a West Elm catalog before you even blink.”

Mina gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. “I’m just trying to help her create a cozy space. Is that so wrong?”

“I’m just giving her fair warning,” Lucy said, eyes glinting. “You’re in for the full Mina experience.”

I yawned before I could stop myself. Mina noticed immediately.

“Go freshen up,” she said, waving me toward the bathroom. “I’ll set up the couch for you.”

I shuffled off, grateful for the moment alone. As I brushed my teeth and splashed cool water on my face, I felt the weight of the night settle in. When I returned, the couch had been transformed into a nest of blankets and pillows—so much cozier than the cold, empty apartment I’d left behind.

“Thanks, guys,” I said, sinking into my makeshift bed. “This is way better than crashing on a pile of sweatshirts.”

Lucy grinned as she wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “I’ll swing by around four tomorrow, just in time to rescue you from Mina’s overzealous decorating spree.”

“I’ll need it,” I said, throwing Mina a smirk.

Mina gasped, deeply offended. “You’ll love every second of it. Actually, I’ll call the guys and see if they can help with the heavy lifting this weekend. They’ve got a game in Anaheim on Friday, but they should be free after that.”

“Game?” I asked, frowning.

Mina blinked. “Oh. Yeah. Jimin, Taehyung, and my other brother—they play for the Michigan Red Wings.”

The name rang a bell, but faintly. Like a half-remembered dream.

“Should I know what that means?”

Lucy smirked. “NHL, Y/N. They’re professional hockey players.”

“Oh,” I said. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but that wasn’t it. Hockey wasn’t really on my radar. The only time I even thought about it was when Emily complained about hockey players hogging ice time.

“We’ll have to take you to a game,” Mina said, already vibrating with excitement. “They’re mid-season, and the team’s so good right now.”

“Mina, you say that every year,” Lucy said, rolling her eyes.

Mina grinned. “Because every year, it’s true! Even if they weren’t good, it’s still fun. The speed, the energy…” She trailed off, lost in her own little hockey world.

I laughed, but something about all of this—this easy, effortless warmth—felt almost too good to be real. Like I’d borrowed someone else’s life for the night.

“Mina,” I said, nudging her. “You do realize two of those players are your brothers, right?”

She made a face. “Obviously, Y/N. I’m not checking them out. But let’s be real—they’re objectively attractive. And if you happen to take an interest, there’s plenty of other man candy on the team.”

Lucy chuckled. “She’s not wrong. Her brothers are hot. Not that I’m looking—Taehyung is more than enough—but Jungkook? Yeah, he’s got the looks.”

Jungkook.

The name hit me like a bucket of ice water.

Could it be my Jungkook? 

My brain raced back to the airport. The luggage, the easy smile, the way he had helped me like it was nothing. That Jungkook had just been… a random act of kindness. A nice stranger.

…Right?

I felt ridiculous for even thinking it. For even considering the possibility.

My Jungkook?

We’d spoken for maybe fifteen minutes, and I was already putting a claim on him. Maybe I was going crazy.

“He hasn’t dated anyone since he and Sky broke up last year,” Leera said casually, like she was commenting on the weather. “Kind of a waste. A guy like that shouldn’t stay single for long.”

Mina nodded, but there was something a little sharper in the set of her jaw. “Jungkook’s not the type to jump from girl to girl. He’s waiting for the right one, and when he finds her, he’ll know.”

Leera smirked. “Well, that’s not stopping half of Detroit. Pretty sure every girl in the city knows he’s single.”

Mina groaned, flopping back against the couch cushions. “Don’t even get me started on the rink rats. If I have to witness one more girl trying to sneak into the locker room, I might actually lose my mind.”

I laughed, sinking deeper into my pile of pillows. “Noted. I’ll make sure to stay on your good side.”

Mina pointed at me, all faux-seriousness. “Good call.” Then, with a sigh, she added, “I just hate it. Those girls don’t care about hockey—they don’t even like hockey. They just want the bragging rights.”

I nodded, watching the way her protectiveness settled over her like armor. She wasn’t just defending Jungkook. She was looking out for all of them. Her brothers, her family.

“Well,” I said, meaning it, “they’re lucky to have you watching their backs.”

Mina’s lips quirked up like she wanted to argue, but instead, she just said, “Goodnight, Y/N.” She was already halfway down the hall when she called over her shoulder, “Yell if you need anything.”

Leera lingered, watching me for a beat longer. “You good?”

“Yeah,” I said, exhaling, feeling the weight of the day settle over me in the best way. “Thanks again. I didn’t realize how much I needed this.”

“Don’t mention it.” Leera’s voice was soft, knowing. “I’m up early for work, so sorry if I wake you.”

I waved her off. “I’m used to early mornings.” Too many years of predawn practices had made sure of that.

Leera just nodded, still smiling, before disappearing down the hall.

I sank deeper into the blankets, warmth curling around me like a secret. My body felt heavy, like it had finally gotten permission to stop holding itself together. My eyes fluttered shut, and I didn’t even hear Leera’s door close.

That night, I dreamt of chocolate-brown eyes and tousled black hair.

I woke up the same way I had for the past eight weeks—with my knee throbbing like it had a personal vendetta against me.

I didn’t even have to open my eyes to know today was going to suck. The dull ache had settled in overnight, but now, thanks to yesterday’s cramped plane ride, it had sharpened into something meaner. I pulled my leg toward my chest, stretching carefully, trying to loosen the stiffness. Moving boxes and setting up furniture? Yeah, that was going to be so much fun. Looked like the painkillers would have to make an appearance.

After a few more stretches, the ache dulled to something that felt less like a knife and more like a bruise, and I finally cracked my eyes open. The room was still wrapped in that early-morning darkness, the kind that sits heavy over Michigan in the winter, refusing to budge. I reached for my phone. 5:48 A.M. The apartment was silent except for the soft hum of the radiator trying—and failing—to make the place feel less like an icebox.

I wasn’t going back to sleep, but I also didn’t feel like getting up yet. So I stayed where I was, curled up on Mina’s obnoxiously comfortable couch, staring at the ceiling.

Yesterday came back in pieces. Mina and Leera. The unexpected invitation. And, of course, Jungkook.

Just thinking about him sent an embarrassing little jolt through me, which was so stupid. It wasn’t like I’d never seen an attractive guy before. But Jungkook wasn’t just attractive. He was the kind of good-looking that made you blink twice. The kind that made your brain short-circuit for a second while you tried to process if someone could actually look like that.

Okay. Fine. So he was hot. That didn’t mean anything. I’d talked to him for maybe fifteen minutes. That wasn’t life-changing. That wasn’t even significant.

Except… my body had noticed him in a way it never really noticed anyone. Heart pounding. Skin tingling. That stupid, unsteady feeling like I’d just stepped onto a rink without my skates tied properly. That was significant.

I sighed, scrubbing a hand over my face. It didn’t matter. Even if, by some ridiculous stretch of the imagination, Jungkook was interested, what would I even do about it? Relationships, dating, flirting—those were all foreign languages to me. My parents had been a masterclass in what not to do. My dad stayed, but only in the financial sense. And Emily? Her version of love came with conditions. Perform well, and you got a rare “good job.” Fail, and… well.

I didn’t know how to do affection. It had always felt awkward, like a sweater that didn’t quite fit. Hugs? Hand-holding? Kissing? Yeah, no. Just thinking about it made my pulse do something weird.

I needed to stop. My life wasn’t some tragic sob story. So my childhood had more training schedules than sleepovers—big deal. I had what I needed. Time to move on.

With a groan, I pushed myself upright, my knee protesting the movement. Enough self-pity. Caffeine. I needed caffeine.

The apartment was still dark and silent as I shuffled into the kitchen. I hesitated before opening any cabinets—rummaging through someone else’s stuff before sunrise felt like a weird level of intrusive—so I settled for finishing off the last of my soda from last night. The cold fizz helped a little, at least enough to push through the haze of sleep deprivation.

The microwave clock blinked 6:04 A.M. Mina didn’t seem like the early riser type. No point in waiting around. I could head back to my place, shower, stretch like the doctor said to, and get my life somewhat together.

By 8:30, I felt almost human again. The stretches had helped, the painkillers had kicked in, and I’d even managed to scribble out a to-do list. Groceries. Figuring out where my limited furniture should go. Maybe pretending I had any idea how to decorate an apartment.

Mina knocked just as I was finishing up, looking far too awake for this hour and shoving a cup of coffee into my hands like a peace offering. “Morning! Ready for some fun?”

I took the coffee, eyeing her suspiciously. “You’re a morning person, aren’t you?”

She grinned. “I’m an all-the-time person. You’ll get used to it. So, what’s the plan?”

“The furniture’s supposed to be here at nine.” I handed her my list. “After that, I figured we could set things up, then go grab the essentials.”

Mina scanned the list and nodded. “Super Target it is. We’ll knock this out fast.”

While we waited, she plopped onto the floor with a notebook and started sketching out a floor plan—like, a legitimate floor plan—complete with little boxes for furniture and arrows for “optimal flow.” She rattled on about color schemes and accent pieces like we were designing a magazine spread.

I just nodded along, knowing I was going to have to veto at least half of it. The eight matching throw pillows? Absolutely not.

When the movers showed up, Mina shifted into full drill-sergeant mode, directing the poor guys with a terrifying level of efficiency. The second they left, another truck pulled up with my boxes from Nevada.

For once, something in my life was actually going smoothly.

Mina eyed my stack of boxes like she was waiting for the rest of them to show up.

“That’s it?” she asked, incredulous.

“Yep. I travel light.”

She frowned, like the concept physically pained her. “Y/N, half of these are labeled Books. How do you not have more stuff?”

I shrugged. “Less stuff, less hassle.”

Mina let out the kind of sigh that people reserved for lost causes. “Minimalist doesn’t even begin to cover it. Taehyung’s old dorm room had more personality than this place.”

I smirked. “I can see the wheels turning in your head. But let’s focus on getting toilet paper first before we start worrying about ‘spicing up’ my apartment.”

“Fine,” she huffed, crossing her arms. “But we will revisit this. I’m not letting you live in a place that looks like a bachelor pad.”

“You’ve known me for fifteen hours,” I pointed out.

“And just imagine what it’ll be like in a couple of weeks,” she grinned wickedly. “I won’t hold back then.”

“This is you holding back?” I teased. “You’re kind of terrifying.”

“In the best way,” she said, completely unfazed. “Now, ready to hit the store?”

“Let’s go,” I said, grabbing my list. “But I don’t have my car yet—it’s still at the dealership.”

“Good thing I’m your chauffeur for the day!” she declared, already heading for the door with the kind of enthusiasm that made me feel like I was being drafted into something. I sighed, but I couldn’t help smiling as I followed her. Life with Mina, I was quickly learning, was never going to be boring.

“No worries,” she added, whipping out her phone with the speed of someone who always had a plan. “I’ll call Jimin and see if we can borrow his truck.”

A quick call later, we were off—Mina behind the wheel of her bright yellow Porsche, driving like she had a personal vendetta against speed limits. The engine roared as she weaved in and out of traffic with terrifying precision. I gripped the door handle, silently promising to live a better life if we made it out of this drive alive.

By the time we pulled up to Jimin’s place—miraculously in one piece—I had officially retired from being a passenger in Mina’s car. We swapped vehicles, and before I knew it, we were barrelling down the road in Jimin’s truck, off to tackle what would soon become the longest shopping trip of my life.

Two hours later, I had come to two conclusions:

One—I would never, under any circumstances, voluntarily shop with Mina again.

Two—I actually liked her. A lot.

She was everything I wasn’t—loud where I was quiet, confident where I hesitated, effortlessly stylish while I stuck to jeans and sneakers. And yet, somehow, she just clicked with me. Maybe it was her relentless energy, or maybe it was because she bulldozed past the walls I hadn’t even realized I’d built.

As we wheeled our overloaded carts to the truck, I glanced at my phone. Just past noon, and I was already exhausted.

“I’m telling you, Y/N,” Mina said, tossing bags into the truck bed like she was throwing confetti, “those shirts were a necessity. When you find one that looks that good, you have to buy it in every color.”

I smirked, shaking my head. Somewhere between arguing over which brand of dish soap smelled less like a hospital and Mina sneakily adding things to the cart, I had realized something horrifying.

Mina could talk me into just about anything.

And there it was—three identical Converse button-ups in different colors. Cute? Yes. Necessary? Not even a little.

“I’m not sure how you did it,” I said, giving her a sideways look, “but somehow, you got me to buy three of the same shirt. You’re dangerous.”

Mina grinned, completely unapologetic. “You’ll thank me later when you’re rocking those shirts.”

I sighed, shaking my head in mock defeat. “Fine. The shirts are cute. But can we find food now? The gimp needs to recharge.”

Mina laughed, slamming the tailgate shut. “How do you feel about Korean? There’s a great place on the way back.”

“Perfect,” I said, already dreaming about a meal that didn’t involve protein bars or sad, airport vending machine snacks.

On the drive back, Mina launched into a full-on campaign about how we needed to recruit Jimin to help paint my apartment. She was convinced the walls needed a fresh coat before anything else could happen.

I argued. She countered. I pouted.

She finally caved. Victory.

For now.

Once we got back, we hauled everything inside, dumping the grocery bags onto the kitchen counter in a completely unorganized mess. We shoved the cold stuff into the fridge in a way that would probably horrify any reasonable adult, then collapsed onto the couch with greasy containers of food.

As I hobbled over with my takeout, my crutches snagged on the coffee table, making me stumble.

Not once.

Not twice.

Three times.

Each time, Mina gave me a look that was somewhere between amused and mildly concerned.

“You okay there, Y/N?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

I sighed dramatically. “I am so ready to be done with these crutches.”

Navigating life on two feet was hard enough. With crutches? It was like trying to cross a balance beam in roller skates. The countdown to my next doctor’s appointment was on.

After lunch, Mina got lost in a wedding magazine she’d picked up from the mail, which left me with a rare moment of peace. I stretched out on the couch, my mind finally allowed to wander.

And, of course, it wandered right back to him.

Jungkook.

I didn’t know much about him—barely more than his first name—and yet here I was, thinking about him like a teenager with a crush. Which was ridiculous. But also undeniable.

He was absurdly good-looking. The kind of guy you noticed in a room. And for some reason, I couldn’t shake him.

Bronx. Tuesday nights. Five days from now.

Could I actually work up the nerve to go?

Part of me wanted to. Just to see him again. To feel that weird, electric thing that had sparked between us at the airport.

But another part of me—the part that had spent years keeping people at a safe distance—was already coming up with excuses.

Maybe he was just being nice.

Maybe Bronx was just a casual recommendation, not an invitation.

But then why mention Tuesday?

The uncertainty gnawed at me.

I sighed, half-wishing life was as simple as those old country songs—Do you like me? Check yes or no.

But it wasn’t that easy, was it?

Before I could spiral any further into my overthinking, Mina’s phone went off—a series of high-pitched squeals that could only mean one thing: bridal emergency.

She groaned, already getting to her feet, phone pressed to her ear before she was even fully upright. “Promise me you won’t touch anything while I’m gone,” she said, pointing at me like I was the kind of person who might start unpacking just to be difficult. “Lucy and I will help you sort everything later.”

I held up my hands in surrender. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Satisfied, she turned on her heel and disappeared out the door, already deep in crisis management mode.

For once, I didn’t fight it. I wasn’t about to wrestle with the mountain of bags and boxes on my own. Instead, I let myself sink deeper into the couch, the cushions swallowing me whole. I popped in my earbuds and let my iPod shuffle through songs, the familiar hum of music settling over me like a blanket.

And before I knew it, I was out.

I managed to avoid Mina for two whole days, using jet lag and my aching knee as perfect excuses to dodge any heavy lifting. But, of course, Saturday morning came, and so did she—armed with coffee, muffins, and an all-important battle plan. Today, she declared, was Divine Design Day, and reinforcements were on their way. Jimin and Taehyung were due to arrive at 10:00 AM sharp to help paint and set up the loft. I groaned inwardly at the thought of another long day of projects, but I couldn’t help but feel a little curious about the guys Mina and Lucy had been raving about.

Apparently, Mina had tried to recruit her brother Jungkook too, but he was busy spending the day with the team doctor after taking a nasty hit during last night’s game. I’d heard Mina and Lucy screaming from across the hall—wild cheers when the game went well, furious shouts when the refs blew a call. They’d invited me to watch, but I’d opted for a quiet evening with a book instead. After hearing their passionate recap, though, I made a mental note to join them next time. It sounded like it was quite the spectacle.

“Let’s move it, Y/N,” Mina clapped her hands, already pushing me toward the door. “We need to hit Home Depot for paint before the guys crawl out of bed.”

I dragged myself along, grumbling as I grabbed my coat, purse, and crutches. “Isn’t Lucy coming with us?”

“She threatened to spike my coffee if I woke her before nine,” Mina laughed. “She’ll catch up when we get back.”

“Just don’t go overboard, okay? I don’t need my apartment looking like it belongs on the cover of Better Homes & Gardens.”

“You’re no fun,” Mina pouted, but then a mischievous grin spread across her face. “Okay, fine, how about this: you get veto power, but I promise you won’t need it.”

“Deal,” I sighed, knowing full well this was as good as it was going to get.

We took Lucy’s BMW since it had more trunk space than Mina’s Porsche—which, considering how much Mina shopped, made me wonder why she even owned a sports car in the first place. As I buckled in, I was reminded that I still hadn’t picked up my own car from the dealership.

“You know, I really should get my car sometime,” I muttered as I adjusted my seatbelt.

“Not a chance,” Mina scoffed. “You’re not driving anywhere with those crutches.”

“Well, I’m hoping to be rid of them after my appointment on Monday. I’ve got a new doctor, Dr. Jeon.”

Mina’s eyes lit up. “Dr. Jeon? That’s my dad! I can’t believe I didn’t mention my last name was Jeon.”

“Small world,” I muttered, still processing. “So, your dad’s my new doctor?”

“Yep! And trust me, you’re in the best hands. He’s patched up half the hockey players in Michigan.”

Home Depot was its usual chaos, but Mina, ever the drill sergeant of design, had the entire trip organized to perfection. Armed with measurements, color swatches, and detailed diagrams, she had us in and out in under an hour. The fact that she could pull that off while also looking like she belonged in a magazine made me half-wonder if she secretly had superpowers.

For the first time that morning, I felt a spark of excitement—seeing my empty, bare-walled loft finally coming to life didn’t seem so bad after all.

When we pulled up to the building, Jimin’s truck and a rugged-looking Jeep were already parked out front.

“Right on time,” Mina said, grabbing her phone. “I’ll call the guys and have them unload everything. And don’t even think about protesting, Y/N.”

“I wasn’t going to,” I said, raising my hands in mock surrender.

“No, but I know you hate asking for help,” Mina added sweetly, though there was no arguing with her tone. “Too bad. You’re not lifting a finger today.”

“Mina, your dad’s my doctor, not you,” I teased, but she just stuck her tongue out at me while dialing.

“We’re outside—come unload,” she barked into the phone, then slipped it back into her purse with a satisfied grin.

Within minutes, Lucy appeared with two guys in tow. One of them was immediately tackled by Mina, who launched herself at him like a human cannonball. He caught her with ease, laughing as if he’d done it a thousand times before.

The other guy—who I assumed was Taehyung—had his arm casually draped around Lucy’s shoulders and looked like he could bench-press a truck. He was huge, his broad chest stretching the fabric of his jacket, but there was this boyish grin that somehow made him less intimidating. His dark hair was cut close, and his deep brown eyes twinkled with a playful, mischievous glint.

Lucy led him over to me, and Taehyung sized me up with a cheeky smirk. “So, you’re the fresh meat, huh?”

“That’s me,” I replied with a laugh. “Straight off the butcher block.”

“I like this one,” he said to Lucy, ruffling her hair. “She’s got sass. Can we keep her?”

“You’re such an idiot,” Lucy shot back, shoving him playfully.

Taehyung glanced at my crutches. “What’s with the wingmen?”

“Huh?”

“The crutches,” he clarified, grinning. “Your wingmen.”

“Oh, right. Sports injury.”

“A player, huh?” His grin widened, teasing me.

“Not exactly,” I said, laughing.

“I dunno, Lou,” he said to Lucy, “I don’t think she’ll keep up with us.”

“Keep it up, Tae,” Lucy teased, nudging him, “or I might dump you for her.”

“Eh, Jimin can do the heavy lifting. I’ll just carry the cripple,” Taehyung said with a wicked grin, and before I could protest, he scooped me up like I was weightless. A startled yelp escaped me as my crutches clattered to the sidewalk. And just like that, I was cradled in his arms like a rag doll.

“Taehyung!” Mina shouted, pulling herself away from Jimin to storm over. “She’s injured! You can’t just throw her around like that.”

“She’s tiny, almost as small as you,” Taehyung laughed, totally unbothered. “Besides, if she’s sticking around, she’s gotta get used to a little manhandling.”

“She won’t be sticking around if you scare her off by treating her like a sack of potatoes,” Mina snapped, hands on her hips.

Taehyung just grinned and looked down at me. “You don’t mind, do you, Y/N?”

Still processing the fact that I was four feet off the ground in the arms of a complete stranger, I blinked, and to my surprise, I nodded. “Uh, sure, Taehyung,” I muttered, feeling oddly at ease despite the absurdity of the situation. His energy, his laugh, the warmth in his eyes—it was impossible to feel uncomfortable around him.

“See? Y/N’s my homegirl now,” Taehyung said with a triumphant grin, like he’d just won an award for best human being.

“Oh, you know it, G,” Lucy chimed in, laughing like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Chim, come meet my new best friend!” Taehyung called over his shoulder, still holding me like it was the most natural thing in the world—like this wasn’t a situation where I probably should have been, I don’t know, walking?

Jimin, who had been watching the whole circus unfold with a quiet, amused smile, finally made his way over. He extended his hand, his voice as soft and melodic as the warm look in his eyes. “Pleasure to meet you, Y/N,” he said, each word carrying a kind of gentleness that made it impossible not to like him instantly.

Still awkwardly perched on Taehyung’s back, I reached out to shake his hand, the usual wave of discomfort that came with meeting new people creeping up. But something about Jimin’s calm presence, those kind eyes of his, made it easier than I expected. “Don’t worry,” he added with a knowing grin, “you’ll get used to this bunch of lunatics.”

I let out a small laugh, the tension in my shoulders easing just a little. “I’m starting to think you’re right.”

“Alright, enough with the pleasantries!” Mina’s voice cut through, sharp and loud, as always. She clapped her hands with military precision. “We didn’t drag you guys here for social hour. Time to work!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jimin said, snapping a playful salute before heading over to the trunk to start unloading supplies.

I wriggled a bit on Taehyung’s back, trying to find a way down. “Okay, Taehyung, time to put me down.”

“Nope,” he replied, patting my leg like it was a done deal. “I told you, I’m carrying you in.”

“I can walk, you know,” I protested, feeling the need to remind him that I still had two fully-functioning legs, even if they weren’t exactly in peak condition. “And Jimin could probably use your help.”

“Jimin’s got it covered,” Taehyung said nonchalantly, grabbing a bag of paint supplies with one hand while still managing to hold me securely on his back with the other. “Lucy, grab her crutches—aka Goose and Maverick.”

“Goose and Maverick?” I raised an eyebrow, thoroughly confused.

“Your wingmen,” Taehyung explained with utmost seriousness, like I was supposed to get this. “You can’t fly without them.”

“You’re ridiculous, Taehyung.”

“I know,” he replied with a wide, disarming grin. “That’s what makes me so lovable.”

And with that, he hauled us both inside, with Jimin, Mina, and Lucy following behind, their arms loaded with paint cans and brushes.

By the time we made it up to my apartment, I’d stopped trying to escape Taehyung’s “manhandling.” It was clear this “Divine Design Day” was more like a crazy, fun-filled bootcamp than your typical painting party. But weirdly, I didn’t mind. Between the laughter, the constant banter, and the easy camaraderie, I realized something—I was smiling more than I had in a long time. The tension I’d carried around for months, maybe even years, seemed to melt away with every joke and every shared moment of laughter.

As the day went on, I noticed something else: this wasn’t just about painting or setting up furniture. This was their way of pulling me into their world, a world that felt warm and open in a way I hadn’t experienced in years. By lunchtime, I had Taehyung laughing so hard he nearly dropped his paint roller, and I felt myself slipping back into sarcasm, something I hadn’t felt comfortable doing in a while.

Lucy, Taehyung, and Jimin worked seamlessly together, taping off the walls and laying down tarps while Mina orchestrated the whole operation like a general overseeing her troops. At first, I tried to stay out of their way, but before long, I found myself pulled into the action—sitting in the middle of the room, surrounded by paint splatters, as they worked around me. It felt oddly comforting, this strange, unexpected bond forming around me.

By late afternoon, the loft had transformed. We’d painted two rooms and were almost done with a third. The place was beginning to feel like an actual home, a place I could settle into. The thought of unpacking didn’t feel as overwhelming anymore, so I decided to start with something familiar: my books.

Jimin carried the three boxes over like they weighed nothing, flashing me a smile before heading back to help Taehyung with the last of the painting. I opened the first box, and immediately, nostalgia hit me like a wave. Books had always been my safe haven. The feel of the pages, the scent of old paper—it was like stepping back into a world where everything made sense. As I started stacking them by genre and alphabetically, a sense of calm washed over me.

“Hey, Y/N!” Mina’s voice called out from the living room, interrupting my quiet moment. “Do you want us to start unpacking these other boxes? The paint’s dry enough now.”

“Yeah, sure,” I called back, not thinking much of it. “There shouldn’t be much in them.”

Mina’s voice got closer as she poked around. “One’s labeled ‘Miscellaneous,’ and the other doesn’t have anything written on it.”

“Huh, that’s weird,” I said, frowning slightly. “I thought I labeled everything.”

“Well, want me to open the mystery box?” Mina asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Go for it,” I said, feeling a small tug of curiosity myself. What could it be?

I heard the familiar sound of tape being ripped open, followed by Mina’s high-pitched squeal that could probably be heard by the neighbors. It echoed through the loft, loud enough to make me jump.

“Geez, Mina,” I muttered, stacking another book on the shelf. “Are you trying to summon every dog in the city?”

“Y/N!” Mina’s voice was filled with barely-contained excitement. When she popped her head around the half-wall, her eyes were wide with mischief, the kind of look that usually meant trouble.

“What is it, Mina?” I asked, wary.

She strutted over, something in her hands, her face lit with that mischievous gleam. And then, she held it up.

It was the plaque. That plaque. The one my mom had made after the 2020 Olympics, with “Olympic Silver Medalist” gleaming beneath my name. My stomach dropped, like someone had yanked the floor out from under me.

Shit.

Everything inside me screamed to grab it, shove it back in the box, pretend I’d never seen it. But I was frozen, staring at that plaque like it had just upended everything I was trying to build here. There it was, in all its shiny, unapologetic glory—my past, casually standing right in the middle of my future like it belonged. Like it had every right to.

“Care to explain why you never mentioned this?” Mina teased, her grin stretching wide like she had just found the golden ticket.

I groaned and rubbed a hand over my face. Of course, of course this would come up now. I wasn’t ready for this conversation—not now, not ever. “Where did you even find that?”

“In the unmarked box,” she said, like that was all the explanation needed.

Of course. The unmarked box. Thanks, Emily, I thought, bitterly. Of all the things my mother could’ve sent, this had to make the trip.

Mina was looking at me like she was a detective who’d just cracked the case. Her eyes were practically burning holes through me, waiting for me to spill the beans. I sighed, knowing I couldn’t avoid it. “Was there anything else in there?” I asked, stalling, even though I already knew exactly what else was hiding in that box.

“Oh, plenty,” she replied, clearly loving this. “Or should I say... Y/N Y/L/N, Olympic Silver Medalist and National Champion Figure Skater? Care to explain why this little tidbit never came up in conversation?”

Her words hung there between us, playful but pointed, and I sighed again. Mina wasn’t mad, not at all. She was just amused—like she’d just uncovered some secret Easter egg in a movie she wasn’t expecting.

“Okay, yeah,” I muttered, feeling the flush creep up my neck. “You got me. I was going to tell you eventually, I just... didn’t want it to be a thing, you know?” I looked down at my hands, fidgeting with the spine of a book. “It’s not like I’m ashamed of it. I just... liked that you didn’t know. It was easier that way. I could just be Y/N, without all the... assumptions or whatever.”

Mina’s face softened, and she lowered the plaque with a quiet chuckle. “I get it, Y/N. Honestly, I do. And for what it’s worth, it doesn’t change anything. Lucy and I? We’re still the same girls who’ve been feeding you pizza and hauling in your groceries.” She gave my arm a gentle squeeze. “And trust me, Jimin and Taehyung? They’re probably the last people on earth who care about figure skating. No crazed fans here.”

Relief flooded through me, but a little bit of that lingering embarrassment stayed in the back of my mind. “Thanks,” I said, my voice quiet. “I’m sorry for not saying something earlier. It just... it felt good to be normal for a while.”

Mina grinned, nudging me with her shoulder. “Normal’s overrated. And you didn’t lie—you just... omitted a few sparkly details.”

I laughed, feeling the tension start to melt. We made our way back to the box. Inside, it wasn’t just the plaque—there were old photos, magazines, medals, and even some of my old costumes, glittering with sequins. It was like a time capsule from a life I thought I’d left behind, packed up meticulously and sent across the country by Emily, my ever-persistent mother.

Pinned to one of the costumes was a note in her unmistakable handwriting: Just in case.

“Subtle, Emily,” I muttered, tossing the costume back into the box.

“Who’s Emily?” Mina asked, plopping down beside me on the floor.

“My mom,” I replied, letting out a long sigh.

Mina nodded, picking up one of the magazines with my face plastered on the cover. She turned it over in her hands like she was still trying to process it. “So... I’m guessing you didn’t pack all this yourself?”

“Nope,” I said, shaking my head. “I left all my skating stuff back in Vegas. But Emily—she has her own ideas about what’s best. She thought I might need a little ‘reminder’ of my accomplishments.”

“Or a lot of reminders,” Mina said, holding up another sparkly costume, her eyebrows raised in mock surprise.

I snatched the costume from her, laughing despite myself. “Well, I didn’t exactly want all of this here. I’m not sure if I’ll ever skate again, so I didn’t feel like living in sequins and medals every day, you know?”

Mina’s grin faded a little, and she placed her hand on my knee, her touch gentle. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“It’s fine,” I said, trying to push away the heaviness creeping into my chest. “I’m dealing with it. I just... didn’t think I’d need all this while I’m... figuring things out.”

We sat there in a quiet, heavy silence, surrounded by the ghosts of my past life that refused to stay buried. I glanced down at the shimmering fabric in my lap, running my fingers over the beads, feeling too familiar, too close to everything I was trying to leave behind.

“And that’s exactly why she sent it all,” I added, offering a bitter smile. “In Emily’s world, this injury is just me being dramatic. I should be back on the ice by now, training for my next competition.”

“That’s insane,” Mina scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. “Doesn’t she know what’s going on with your knee?”

“Emily only hears what she wants to hear,” I half-laughed, half-sighed. “But don’t worry. She can’t push me into anything anymore. I’m in control now.”

“Well, whatever you need, we’re here for you, Y/N,” Mina said softly, her words warm and solid. “Whatever you need, whenever you need it.”

I smiled, a warmth spreading through my chest that chased away some of the darkness. “Thanks, Mina. I know I’m not great at all this emotional stuff, but... I’m really glad I met you. It’s been a long time since I had real friends.”

Mina beamed, knocking her knee against mine. “Best friends, Y/N. Not just regular friends.”

I nudged her back, laughing, my heart feeling a little lighter. “Yeah, best friends.”

We sat there, sprawled out on the floor, amidst the remnants of my past life—photos, costumes, memories of who I used to be. And for the first time in a long time, the silence between us wasn’t uncomfortable. It was easy. And, for once, I didn’t mind the mess.

"Hey, lazy bums!" Lucy’s voice rang out from the bedroom where she’d been helping Jimin and Taehyung tape off the last wall for painting. "Are you two just gonna lounge around while we do all the work?"

"Yep, that was the plan," Mina said, not missing a beat.

"Sounds good to me," I chimed in, grinning.

Lucy appeared in the doorway, her grin already in place as she plopped down next to us on the floor like she had nowhere better to be. "Well, if you’re gonna be lazy, I might as well join you."

Mina shot me a sly look and turned to Lucy. "So, Lucy," she drawled, dragging out the words, "did you know that Y/N here is a big-time figure skater?"

Lucy’s eyebrows shot up for a second before she shrugged like it was no big deal. "No shit? I knew your name sounded familiar," she said, totally unfazed. "That’s pretty cool."

Mina gave me a look that clearly said See? No big deal, and I tried not to laugh at how casually Lucy took it.

"You know, Y/N," Lucy said, leaning back on her elbows, "you kinda kick ass out there."

I couldn’t help but laugh. "Thanks, Lucy."

"Seriously," Mina added, rolling over onto her stomach and propping herself up on her elbows. "The things you can do with your legs... If I were that flexible, Jimin wouldn’t let me out of the bedroom for days!"

I giggled and shook my head. "Please, Mina, you’re giving me way too much credit."

Lucy grinned, mimicking Mina’s pose. "She’s got a point, Y/N. All that flexibility? Total game-changer in the bedroom. Think of the positions you could get into."

"Wow, thanks for the confidence boost, Lucy," I joked, feeling my face heat up. "Glad to know I’ve got you all worked up."

"Not me, you dork," Lucy said, with an exaggerated eye roll. "Guys. You know, the ones who actually matter in this scenario."

"Well, I wouldn’t really know," I said, trying to keep my tone light, though my chest was tightening a little. "But hey, good to know I’ve got options. Stripper? Kama Sutra demonstrator? Naked contortionist?"

Mina suddenly sat up, her eyes narrowing with curiosity. "Wait a second," she said, her voice suddenly full of disbelief. "Wouldn’t know? Y/N, are you... a virgin?" she asked, as if I had just confessed to being a secret agent.

Heat surged to my cheeks, and before I could even think about how to respond, I shot up like I had just been caught doing something illegal. "Okay, I think that’s enough prying into my personal life for one day," I called over my shoulder, trying—and failing—to sound casual. Embarrassment crawled up my neck like wildfire. "Let’s save the deep dives for when we’re knee-deep in a tub of Ben & Jerry’s at some inevitable sleepover. Pillow fights optional."

"Oh no, Y/N," Mina’s voice rang out behind me, dripping with playful menace. "We’re your best friends now—there’s no such thing as ‘enough prying.’" She paused dramatically, and I could practically hear her smirking. "But fine, keep your little secrets for now. Just know that Lucy and I are official Y/N Y/L/N spelunkers. No secret is too deep, no skeleton too buried. We’ll dig it all up eventually."

I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head as I rifled through the fridge, pretending to look for something—anything—that would change the subject. The truth was, with Mina and Lucy around, there was no way in hell my past was going to stay hidden for long. They were relentless, the kind of friends who didn’t just scratch the surface. They dug. They prodded. They excavated until they hit bedrock. And maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

Monday morning, I woke up before dawn, as usual. But instead of jumping out of bed and rushing straight for the coffee maker, I stayed under the soft feather pillows that Mina had insisted would help me sleep better. I wasn’t sure they had, but for the first time in a while, it felt easier to just stay there, letting the weight of the day press down on me slowly, like a shadow growing across the room.

Today was the day my path would be decided. I might have been being melodramatic, but it was hard not to be when the appointment felt like the turning point. The moment I’d have to choose which way to go. I’d been stalled at this fork for too long. It was time to pick a direction, any direction.

A lot of that decision would depend on the new doctor. Dr. Banerjee back in Vegas hadn’t been hopeful. He practically told me not to get my hopes up. Would Dr. Jeon say the same? Emily had made it clear she thought I was just milking the injury, playing the drama queen. And sometimes, I wondered if she was right. Was I just dragging this out? My knee still throbbed when I pushed it too hard, but maybe I was just being weak. Maybe I needed to toughen up, ignore the pain, and push through.

Enough lying in bed. The answer would come soon enough.

I climbed out of bed and started my usual morning stretches, paying close attention to how my knee felt. The lack of soreness gave me a little spark of hope. My flexibility was still there, too—thankfully, I hadn’t lost that during the months of inactivity. That was what had made me stand out on the ice, those long, graceful spiral sequences. If I could still do them, maybe I could skate again. And if I could skate again, I’d need to get back to my Pilates routine, pronto. The longer I waited, the harder it would be to regain the strength and flexibility I’d need.

But for now, all I could do was stretch and hope. The future could wait a little longer.

The truth was, I missed the rush that exercise always gave me. The kind of energy that made my limbs feel electric, the burn that felt almost like a reward. Sitting around, doing nothing, had turned out to be more suffocating than I’d imagined. The first week after surgery had been kind of a relief—like a forced break from the rigid schedule that had ruled my life for so long. I had sprawled out on the couch, devoured three Jane Austen novels in a row, only stopping for food, bathroom breaks, and the occasional nap. It was pure bliss.

But then... the days started to blur. By mid-December, boredom had sunk its teeth in, and I could feel it gnawing at me. Emily, of course, decided I needed a “push.” So, she dragged me back to the rink to “knock some sense into me,” as she put it. The rehab exercises Dr. Banerjee prescribed weren’t enough for her. She complained that it was all taking too long, and after one mortifying demonstration where she shoved me out onto the ice and I immediately fell flat on my ass, she finally stopped insisting I skate.

That didn’t mean she backed off, though. Oh no. She still had me show up every day to “consult” with Yoongi, my coach, about what came next. But it only made me feel trapped. Like a prisoner pacing in the perimeter of a shrinking cell. That was when I started thinking about leaving. With Emily always there, it was like I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t hear myself over the sound of her voice barking orders and issuing demands. If my career was over, I needed space to figure out what came next, and staying in Vegas wasn’t going to give me that.

Dr. Banerjee had mentioned a few specialists in Michigan who had experience with my kind of injury. As soon as he said it, I latched onto the idea of moving back. The doctors would satisfy Emily’s need for reassurance, and the distance would give me the space to breathe, to be. She didn’t like it at first—said it was a waste of time, of resources—but when she saw I wasn’t backing down, she caved. Not without conditions, of course.

She found the apartment, bought the car, booked the doctor’s appointments, arranged the flights. The only thing I cared about was leaving as soon as possible. So, I did. I boarded a plane, said goodbye to the warmth of Nevada, and didn’t look back.

And here I was now. Sitting at the edge of a decision. Despite the tight knot of anxiety in my stomach, I had to admit, moving back was starting to feel like the right choice. There was something about Michigan that felt more like home than anywhere I’d been in years. It wasn’t just the cold air or the city’s winding streets; it was something deeper, something about being away from the noise of expectations, the pressure to constantly prove myself. Here, I could just be Y/N, and for the first time in a long while, that didn’t feel like a hollow title.

I went through the motions of getting ready—showering, drying my hair, pulling on a pair of jeans and a sweater. I wasn’t sure if the routine was helping calm my nerves or just delaying the inevitable. I ate a lemon poppy seed muffin, wiped the crumbs off the counter, and tried to ignore the tension creeping up my shoulders. My mind kept drifting back to the appointment. What would Dr. Jeon say? Was I still Y/N Y/L/N, competitive skater? Or was I about to become someone else entirely?

A knock on the door startled me out of my thoughts. Mina’s voice floated in, cheerful as ever. “Morning!” she called out as she let herself in. I’d given her a spare key yesterday—mostly because she insisted, and I hadn’t come up with a good reason not to.

“Good morning,” I said, my voice lighter than I felt, as she waltzed into the kitchen, all bright-eyed and grinning.

“Happy Lose-the-Crutches Day!” she proclaimed with a teasing lilt in her voice.

“You’re weird,” I said, shaking my head.

“Oh, come on, Y/N. You can’t tell me you’re not excited to ditch your flyboys.” She shot a glance at the crutches leaning against the wall. “Maybe with fewer appendages to trip over, you’ll stop bumping into things so much.”

“Doubt it,” I replied, holding back a smile. “I’ve always been a klutz. Kind of ironic, don’t you think? Champion figure skater who trips over air.”

“Not ironic,” Mina said, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge. “You were born to be on the ice. That’s all.”

I raised an eyebrow at her, a little skeptical. “You really think so?”

“Definitely,” she said, her tone sincere, her eyes steady. It made me pause. “I’ve seen you skate, Y/N. It’s like watching something otherworldly.”

I’d heard words like that before—usually from articles or fans—but hearing it from Mina, with that quiet belief in her eyes, felt different. It felt like maybe I could believe it too, if I let myself.

I cleared my throat, avoiding her gaze. “Thanks, Mina.”

She grinned, brightening up. “Come on, babe. Let’s get going. Grab Goose and Maverick and let’s jet.”

I rolled my eyes at the ridiculous names she’d given my crutches but grabbed them anyway. The sooner this was over, the sooner I’d know what came next. Mina and I headed out, slipping into her car as she cranked the heat.

“Thanks for chauffeuring me,” I said, trying to make light of the anxiety gnawing at me.

“How many times do I have to tell you?” she laughed. “I’m happy to do it. Besides, it gives me an excuse to pop in and see Dad. Makes me look like the ‘good child.’”

“I have a feeling you don’t need much help keeping that title.”

“True,” she said, her voice filled with fondness. “But I like stopping by the hospital now and then. It’s funny how different we all are—my brothers and me—but we’ve always been close. Taehyung’s a tank on the ice, and Jungkook’s fast as hell, but they’ve always looked out for me. And growing up with them... well, let’s just say I’ve had a lot of practice handling troublemakers.”

"How did they end up playing on the same team, anyway? Doesn’t that kind of thing usually not happen?" I asked, trying to distract myself from the knot tightening in my chest.

“It doesn’t,” she admitted. “Taehyung wasn’t a big name in the draft picks. Being a hometown boy helped, but once the Red Wings saw him play, they knew they had a hidden gem. Then Jungkook came up the next year. Having Taehyung already on the team definitely helped his chances. Plus, it’s good PR—two hometown brothers in the NHL.”

“Guess I’ll have to learn a little more about hockey,” I said, offering a half-smile.

“Y/N, trust me. You’re in Michigan now. It’s practically a requirement.” She winked at me as we pulled into the hospital parking lot. The knot of anxiety tightened in my chest again, but it didn’t feel the same. The difference now was, for the first time, I felt like I had a little more control over where I went from here—even if I had no idea what the next steps would look like.

The uncertainty was still there, but it didn’t feel like a shadow I had to run from. For now, it was just another stretch of ice I’d have to navigate. And if I stumbled a bit along the way, well, I could live with that.

“That’s pretty cool,” I said, and Mina’s face lit up, her voice picking up speed as she launched into more stories about her brothers and their love for hockey.

“Yeah, they’re living the dream. Mom and Dad were all in on their decision to go pro. A lot of the hockey parents we knew were pulling their kids out, saying they should focus on school or get 'real' jobs. But my parents never did that. They always cared more about us finding something we loved, not just something practical.”

As she kept talking, sharing memories of their childhood, I could practically feel the warmth of the Jeon family’s bond. It was one of those things you could almost touch, the kind of closeness that felt familiar and distant all at once. Taehyung, I learned, was adopted. His birth mother had been Mina's aunt—Yuri's sister—who’d passed away when he was a baby. The Jeons had taken him in, raised him as their own, and made him the oldest son.

There was something comforting in the way Mina talked about them. It was like hearing about a life I’d never had but always kind of wished I could. A life where family wasn’t just a word, but a real, tangible thing.

We pulled into the parking lot of St. Joseph’s, and I felt the weight of it settle over me. Signing in at the front desk felt like signing away the last of my denial. And when the nurse called my name five minutes later, the nerves hit, deep and clawing at my chest.

In the exam room, everything smelled like antiseptic, cold and sterile, the kind of chill that seeps into your bones from the linoleum floors. The nurse did her usual routine—height, weight, blood pressure—and then left us alone. Mina sat in a chair next to the exam table, and I perched on the edge, my hands folded together so tightly that my knuckles were almost white.

It was ridiculous how fast my pulse was racing. I’d been through so much worse before—competitions where the world was watching, where one slip-up could cost everything. But this... this was different. This was my future, maybe even who I was, dangling on a thread. Figure skating didn’t give you time to waste. I always thought I had more. Now it felt like the curtain was coming down, and I was stuck in the dark.

My foot started tapping a nervous rhythm against the cabinet. I bit my lip hard enough that it almost hurt. Mina leaned over and gently placed a hand on my foot, stilling it.

“You okay?” she asked softly.

I nodded, but it felt like a lie.

Before I could say anything, the door swung open, and in walked a man I assumed was Dr. Jeon. If this was Mina’s dad, then he was definitely proof that some people aged like fine wine. He had salt-and-pepper hair slicked back in a way that looked effortless but somehow stylish. His brown eyes were warm but sharp, taking in the room with a kind of calm authority that made me wonder if Michigan doctors all looked like movie stars instead of regular people.

“Y/N Y/L/N?” he asked, his voice shifting from professional to something warmer as his gaze landed on Mina. “Oh hey der, Mina! Didn’t see ya there!”

I almost snorted. Did he seriously just say ‘hey der’? I felt like I’d stepped into a Michigan stereotype, except, instead of flannel-wearing folks talking about fishing, everyone here looked like they belonged on the cover of a magazine.

Mina jumped up to give him a hug, and the bond between them was clear. The way his arm slid around her shoulders, the way she grinned so wide her eyes sparkled as she introduced me.

“Y/N’s my new neighbor! Thought I’d bring her by to say hi,” she said, practically bouncing.

“Well, that’s just great! Hope she hasn’t been driving you too nuts already,” Dr. Jeon said, the playful gleam in his eyes making me smile, even though my nerves were still jittering.

“No, Mina’s been great, Dr. Jeon,” I said, but my voice came out a little tighter than I wanted.

“Please, call me Suho,” he said with a grin. “Any friend of Mina’s is a friend of mine. And if you’re hanging out with her, I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”

“Oh! That reminds me,” Mina interrupted, her eyes suddenly wide with mischief. “Are you and Mom going to the game on Friday?”

“You betcha! Wouldn’t miss it.”

Mina turned to me, practically glowing. “Y/N, do you want to come to the Red Wings game with us? Lucy and I are going, and we always meet up with the guys afterward. It’s a blast! Please say you’ll go?”

“Mina, you’re pulling out the puppy lip,” I warned, though I felt my resolve weakening.

“I know! It works every time. Come on, please?”

I sighed, feeling the last of my resistance crumble. “Fine. I’ll go.”

“Yesss!” she cheered, her excitement contagious. “This is going to be so awesome. Oh, and can I pick out your outfit?”

“Alright, Mina,” Suho interrupted with a chuckle. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I need to actually, you know, consult with my patient here.”

“Oops, right,” Mina said, sheepishly. “I’ll be in the waiting room. See you Friday, Dad!” She kissed his cheek before bouncing out of the room, leaving behind a silence that felt almost too loud.

“She’s always been like that?” I asked, half-amused, half in disbelief.

Suho chuckled, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Yah, she’s always been a bit of a firecracker. But she means well. Now, let’s take a look at that knee, shall we?”

The fluttering in my stomach kicked up again as he flipped open a manila folder. “Your doctor in Nevada sent over your records,” he said, drawing out the ‘a’ in Nevada in a way that made me bite back a smile. He caught my look and grinned. “What’s the matter? My Michigan accent getting to ya?”

I let out a breathy laugh, the tension starting to ease. “Sorry, I’m still readjusting. It’s been a while since I’ve lived here.”

He leaned in like he was about to share a secret. “Oh, don’tcha worry. We’ll have ya speakin’ like a northerner again in no time, ya betcha.”

The exaggerated drawl pulled a groan out of me, but it was hard to stay tense with him grinning like that. The atmosphere in the room felt lighter, easier to breathe in. Maybe it wasn’t just the change of scenery that would help me adjust. Maybe it was moments like this.

“Alright, let’s get down to business,” he said, flipping open my medical records with a practiced flick of his wrist. His voice shifted, more serious now. “Looks like you tore your ACL pretty badly back in November and had surgery not long after. I see you also had a concussion from the fall?”

I nodded, the words tight in my throat as the memory of that day washed over me. The fall. It was one of those moments that replays on a loop in your head, like a nightmare you can’t escape. Every time I closed my eyes, there it was again.

“The good news is,” Suho continued, “it looks like the concussion’s healed up nicely. And your knee—well, it’s a long road, but you’re making progress. Any soreness left?”

“Yeah,” I said, my voice tighter than I wanted. “It still aches if I’m on my feet for too long. I’ve been doing the rehab exercises, but it’s slow. Really slow.”

Suho nodded and gently moved my leg, testing the range of motion. “That’s to be expected. Recovery from something like this doesn’t happen overnight. It’ll still be sore. It might even throb as you rebuild strength, but you’re healing. You’re making progress. I think we can start transitioning you off the crutches. Take it slow, though—walk short distances without them at first, see how it feels.”

His words hit me like a lifeline I didn’t even know I needed. “So... does that mean I can skate again? Not right now, but... eventually?”

Suho met my eyes. His face was serious again. “If you stick with the rehab, listen to your body, and don’t rush it, then yes, I think it’s possible. But it’s going to take time. Patience is going to be key.” He paused, his gaze anchoring me. “We can start you on the treadmill by the end of the week. Slow, steady walking, just to get your knee used to the movement again. Maybe—just maybe—if everything goes well, we can start with some light skating. No jumps, no spins—just laps.”

Relief hit me like a wave, a warmth that spread through me like the first hint of daylight after a long night. It wasn’t a promise, but it was something. And right now, that was enough.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice fragile, barely holding it together.

Suho smiled, kind but firm. “One step at a time, Y/N. You’re not in this alone.”

I sat there, absorbing the weight of his words. This wasn’t the end. It was a new beginning, a different kind of fight. But it was mine.

He flipped through my records, his voice settling back into its practical tone. “Keep up with the therapy. Let’s schedule a follow-up in early April to see how you’re doing. Any questions?”

One question burned in my chest, the one I’d been too scared to ask for months. My heart pounded in my ears, and I swallowed hard, trying to push past the lump in my throat. What if he said what Dr. Banerjee had said? That the damage was too severe? That I’d never skate again? That I’d never compete again?

“Yes, Y/N?” Suho’s voice was calm, patient, his eyes urging me to ask.

I took a shaky breath, forcing myself to speak. “Will I be able to compete again?”

For a split second, he didn’t answer, and in that pause, the whole world seemed to hold its breath with me. Then he exhaled slowly, his voice careful. “That’s a good question. It’s possible. A lot of athletes come back from ACL tears, some even making a full recovery. But a lot depends on how well the next few months go. You’ve got to retrain your knee without overdoing it.”

He leaned forward slightly, his hand resting gently on my shoulder. “The next month is crucial. You’re going to start feeling like your knee’s back to normal, but that’s when you’re most at risk for re-injury. It’ll be tempting to jump right back into your routine, but you’ve got to stick to the plan. If you can do that, we’ll reassess in April.”

I nodded, my mind spinning with all the things he was telling me. There was so much to process, and the fear—God, the fear—still lingered like a shadow, gnawing at the edges of my hope. But then Suho’s next words broke through that darkness.

“Y/N, I don’t want you to lose hope. I know it’s frustrating, but mental determination is going to play a huge role in your recovery. If you stay patient and committed, there’s every reason to believe you’ll get back to where you were.”

A tiny spark of hope flared in my chest. “Really?” I asked, barely daring to believe it.

Suho smiled, a warmth in his eyes that made me believe him just a little more. “I can’t guarantee anything, but if you stay the course, there’s a good chance you’ll be back on that ice—maybe even as an Olympian again.”

The weight I’d been carrying for months felt a little lighter. A little. I felt like maybe—just maybe—there was something to hope for. “Thanks, Dr. Je—uh, Suho,” I corrected myself, sheepish at the grin he shot me.

“No need to thank me,” he said with a chuckle. “This one’s all on you. Just don’t push yourself too hard. There’ll be plenty of time for that later, once you’re healed.”

I gave him a mock salute. “Yes, sir.”

We wrapped things up, and as I grabbed my crutches to leave, Suho gave me one last smile. “See you Friday night... at the game.”

“Oh, right! See you then.”

The cold January air hit me as I stepped outside, sharp and biting, but I didn’t mind. Not today. Hope had a way of making everything feel a little warmer, even when the world was still so cold.

After the appointment, Mina insisted on lunch, and we made our way to our favorite café. The kind of place where the staff knows your name, and the menu’s practically burned into your brain. Then, she drove me straight to the dealership where Emily had promised my new car would be waiting.

As we pulled up, my stomach did that familiar drop when I saw it: a shiny Mercedes Benz SUV, gleaming under the dealership lights like it was posing for a magazine cover. It screamed luxury—so Emily. So her. I mean, of course it was a Mercedes. Nothing less for someone like her. But to me, it was just... a reminder of how little she really understood me.

I shouldn’t have been surprised, but there it was—the familiar weight of disappointment settling in my chest like a stone.

I reluctantly climbed into the car, too shiny and new, the leather too pristine beneath me. As I pulled out of the lot, my phone buzzed—Emily, of course. She’d been waiting for me to finish the appointment so she could call and get her feedback. Normally, I’d answer right away, quick to please. But not today. I hit decline, sending her straight to voicemail. If she got upset later, I could always claim I was driving, still getting used to the new car.

We arrived back at the apartment just as Lucy was pulling in, practically radiating her usual excitement. As soon as she saw us, she bounded over, brimming with that energy that made me laugh even when I wasn’t in the mood. The two girls—always together, always bouncing off each other—decided it was the perfect time to test out my "sea legs" with a walk around the block.

“Guys, it’s January. In Michigan. And you want to go for a walk?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, already knowing the answer.

“Come on, Y/N, you’re a figure skater! Don’t tell me you can’t handle the cold,” Mina teased, already bundling up in an impressive number of layers.

“I’ll manage,” I said, surprised at their enthusiasm. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I could handle it, but they seemed so excited, I couldn’t bring myself to say no.

“It’s twenty-two degrees. Practically a heat wave!” Lucy laughed, wrapping a scarf around her neck like she was about to conquer Everest.

We set off, no real destination in mind. It felt surprisingly good to walk without crutches, to breathe in the sharp winter air, to move like I had control again. Like I wasn’t just waiting for my body to catch up with me.

Less than a block in, my phone rang again—Emily. I sighed and quickly muted it before either of them could notice.

“Who is it?” Mina asked, glancing over at me with a curious look in her eye.

“My mom,” I shrugged. “I’ll talk to her later.”

“You were living with her until last week, right?” Lucy asked, her voice full of that inquisitive, "I-want-to-know-all-about-you" tone that she never quite managed to hide.

“Yeah,” I said, glancing up at the sky, trying to gather my thoughts. “My parents split when I was a kid. Dad’s in Washington now, and Emily and I—well, we bounced around for a while.”

“That sounds exciting!” Mina said with wide eyes, like I’d been living some kind of glamorous life. “You must’ve traveled to so many cool places with skating.”

“Sort of,” I said, smiling a little. “I’ve traveled a lot, but mostly it’s arenas and hotel rooms. They all kind of blend together after a while.”

“Really? You don’t get to sightsee?” Lucy asked, surprised.

I shook my head, feeling a little embarrassed. “Not really.”

“That kinda sucks,” Lucy said bluntly, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yeah, a little. I mean, I’m lucky to have had the opportunities, but it’s not all glitter and lights. Mostly it’s just ice rinks and gym time.”

“Not much of a social scene, huh?” Mina asked, clearly intrigued now.

“Nope,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Just a lot of catty, ultra-competitive girls and their stage moms.”

“Ever seen anyone pull a Tanya?” Lucy asked, her voice suddenly teasing, the mischievous glint in her eyes impossible to miss.

“Harding? Nah, usually the sabotage is a little more subtle than a baton to the knee.” I giggled, feeling a little lighter. The past few months had been so heavy, and for a second, it felt like the weight was finally lifting.

“That’s not how you got hurt, is it?” Mina’s voice softened, the concern slipping into her tone as her eyes searched mine.

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I just... fell during practice. Stupid. My skate caught on a rough patch of ice, and down I went. Concussion and a torn ACL.”

“Ouch,” Lucy winced, looking at me like I’d just told her about some medieval torture device.

“Yeah, it wasn’t great,” I said, feeling the sting of it even now, even though it was months ago.

“There wasn’t much news about it, though,” Lucy added, brow furrowing in thought. “I didn’t even know you were off the ice.”

“Oh, come on, Lucy!” Mina teased, rolling her eyes. “Y/N’s a big celeb. It was bound to be news eventually.”

“No, it’s okay,” I reassured them, wanting to avoid feeling like I was in the spotlight. “My mom’s my manager, and she kept it quiet. She was hoping I’d bounce back quickly and didn’t want the press all over it. I’m sure once I don’t show up at Nationals, something will leak.”

“Is it weird?” Lucy asked, her curiosity obvious. “Having your mom as your manager?”

“I never really thought about it,” I said, shrugging. “It’s always been that way. When we moved away after the divorce, she was already handling all my schedules and practices. It just sort of... evolved from there.”

“Do you miss her?” Mina’s voice softened, no teasing, just a gentle curiosity.

I sighed, the question catching me off guard. “Honestly? It’s been nice having some space. She couldn’t stop talking about my knee, about how I needed to get back on the ice. It’s like she doesn’t know what to do with herself if I’m not skating.”

“That would get old fast,” Mina agreed with a sympathetic smile.

“Yeah, it really did,” I said, appreciating the distance from it all. For the first time in a long while, I could breathe without worrying if I was letting someone down.

The conversation shifted after that, and soon we were all laughing again as Mina told us about her latest wedding-planning disaster—because, of course, there’s always something.

Before I knew it, we were back at our building, heading up in the elevator.

“So, it’s Monday night,” Lucy said, her grin widening like she was about to make a really good point. “None of us have to work tomorrow, and the guys are busy. You know what that means?”

I shook my head, clueless, watching as she and Mina exchanged a look.

“Girls’ night!” Mina squealed, her excitement practically vibrating in the air.

“Girls’ night?” I echoed, frowning slightly, still trying to wrap my head around what that actually meant.

“Oh, you have no idea what you’ve been missing,” Lucy teased, flinging an arm around my shoulders like we’d been friends for years instead of days. “It’s sacred. We eat junk food, drink cocktails, and watch chick flicks until we pass out from a sugar coma.”

“And this is… fun?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be intrigued or terrified.

“Uh, yeah!” Lucy said, like I’d just asked if the sky was blue.

“I’m not really much of a drinker,” I admitted, feeling a little awkward all of a sudden.

“Lightweight or just don’t like it?” Lucy asked, her curiosity sharpening like she was about to dissect me.

“Neither, really. I just… never really had the chance. Training and alcohol don’t mix, and I was always in bed by nine.” I could feel the heat creeping up my neck, my embarrassment showing through the words.

Mina’s eyes went wide, like I’d just confessed to living under a rock. “Wait, you’ve never had a drink?”

“Not really,” I mumbled, suddenly feeling like I didn’t belong in this conversation at all.

“No moral objections or anything?” Mina asked, her voice teasing but still full of genuine curiosity.

“No, I just… never got around to it,” I said, trying to brush it off but already feeling the weight of my own weirdness.

Mina grinned, practically glowing with excitement. “Well, no bedtime tonight! You in?”

I hesitated. The idea of drinking for the first time made me nervous. But the way their enthusiasm was lighting up the room—well, it was kind of infectious. “Yeah, okay,” I said, even though I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

“Great! We’ll be right over with the provisions!” Mina practically dragged Lucy into their apartment, leaving their door wide open as they disappeared inside, their voices floating back out into the hallway.

"Mina, let’s get the movies! What’s the vibe?" Lucy’s voice called from inside, pulling me into their whirlwind without even asking.

I leaned against the doorframe, watching them with a grin. Lucy was already ransacking their kitchen, piling snacks and bottles into a laundry basket like she was gearing up for some epic battle. “What kind of movies do you like?” she asked, still rummaging around, not even looking up.

“I’m not picky,” I said, laughing at how absurdly fast she was moving.

“Perfect! Chick flicks it is!” she declared, holding up a bag of chips like she’d just discovered treasure.

“Wait, are we really watching all of those?” I asked as Mina emerged from the bedroom with a stack of DVDs taller than her head. It looked like enough to keep us glued to the screen for a week.

“No, but it’s good to have options,” Mina said with a wink, tossing the cases into the basket like she had it all figured out.

“Alright, give us a sec to change into some sweats, and we’ll be over,” Lucy said, already heading to her bedroom with her spoils.

“Sweats, Mina?” I teased, raising an eyebrow. “Do you even own any?”

“It’s girls’ night, Y/N. Concessions must be made,” she replied, pretending to be scandalized.

Back in my apartment, I changed into fleece pants and my old Team USA hoodie, pulling on a pair of fuzzy slipper socks. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for whatever this was, but I was definitely curious. The second I stepped into the living room, I was hit with the full blast of their “party zone” transformation. Mina was fiddling with the DVD player, while Lucy was already setting up the counter with snacks and drinks, making a delightful symphony of chaos in the kitchen.

A wicked grin spread across my face. Emily would flip if she saw this junk food carnival. Tonight was about firsts—first girls’ night, first chick flick binge, first cocktail, first indulgence in all the things I’d never let myself have. I was ready to enjoy it all.

“So, what’d you start us off with?” I asked, as Lucy tossed a bag of Doritos to Mina, who caught it in mid-air with a triumphant grin.

“Well, we’ve got to save our tearjerkers for later,” Mina said with a mischievous smile. “I thought we’d kick things off with How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. Gotta get the laughs and the man candy going early, you know?”

“Mmm… McConaughey…” Lucy sighed dreamily, stretching out like a cat. “That man makes me miss Southern boys.”

“Hey, you could’ve snagged yourself a Texan. You and Jimin both went to Texas Tech,” Mina giggled, throwing a pillow at Lucy.

“Taehyung more than makes up for the lack of an accent,” Lucy shot back with a smirk.

“Uh, speaking of accents…” I chimed in, still trying to shake the sound of Dr. Jeon’s voice from earlier.

“Oh my God, Y/N!” Mina burst out laughing, catching on immediately. “I should’ve warned you about my dad. Isn’t his accent hilarious? I’m used to it, but even now, sometimes it catches me off guard.”

“That man is like sex on a stick at the State Fair,” Lucy added, already heading back to the kitchen for more drinks.

“Lucy!” I exclaimed, feeling my face heat up like a furnace.

“Just admit it, Y/N—Dr. Jeon is drool-worthy,” Lucy teased, her grin so mischievous it was practically glowing.

“Yeah, he’s good-looking,” I stammered, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. “But isn’t he, like, practically your future father-in-law?”

“Exactly,” Lucy said, holding up her drink like she’d just won a gold medal. “Gives me a glimpse into my future, and it’s looking damn good twenty-five years down the road.”

I blinked, trying to process the absurdity of the conversation. “I’m sure Mina doesn’t appreciate you associating her father with… well, that.”

“Stop being such a nun, Y/N. I know my dad’s a DILF,” Mina said, so casually I almost choked.

“A what?” I asked, horrified but somehow intrigued.

Mina and Lucy exchanged a knowing glance. “Oh, sweet summer child,” Lucy sighed dramatically. “DILF stands for ‘Dad I’d like to—’”

I choked on my chip before she could finish, coughing like I’d just swallowed a firecracker. My face was even hotter now.

“Didn’t need that visual, thanks,” I muttered, half-laughing, half-wincing.

Mina patted me on the back, giggling like she couldn’t contain herself. “Oh, Y/N, you’re just too much fun to corrupt.”

“You underestimate the power of the Dark Side,” Lucy added, her voice dropping into a low, Darth Vader impression, complete with heavy breathing.

“Mina, there is no place for Star Wars geekery at Girls’ Night,” Mina interjected with a mock-serious tone, like she was the gatekeeper of some sacred tradition.

“Mina, there’s always a place for Star Wars geekery,” Lucy shot back, turning to me for backup, her eyes wide with earnestness. “Right, Y/N?”

“Uh, sure?” I replied, suddenly feeling very much like I was in a conversation I hadn’t quite signed up for.

“You’ve seen it, right? Star Wars?” Lucy asked, her disbelief written all over her face.

“Actually… no,” I winced, bracing for the fallout.

Lucy gasped like I’d just told her I’d never seen the sun rise. “OH. MY. GOD!” she screamed, the force of her voice almost knocking me over. She dropped her drink onto the counter with a clang. “Are you kidding me? Mina, go get my special editions! We need to fix this now!”

“No way!” Mina shot back, hands on her hips like some kind of movie-critic superhero. “Girls’ Night equals chick flicks, not galactic battles.”

“Hey, The Empire Strikes Back is very romantic,” Lucy protested, her voice full of conviction.

“Yeah, until someone gets their hand sliced off with a lightsaber,” I countered, feeling a little bolder now.

“Whatever, you uncultured heathen,” Lucy rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up dramatically. “Soon, Y/N. I’ll fix this, I swear.”

Lucy handed each of us a glass as she emerged from the kitchen, and Mina reached for the remote. “We ready?” Mina asked, settling in next to me, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.

“Yup, everything’s prepped,” Lucy said, raising her glass like she was about to make a grand speech. “Alright, ladies, a toast—to the first of many Girls’ Nights with our new BFF, Y/N.”

“And to getting Y/N tipsy enough to spill all her secrets,” Mina added, making me laugh mid-sip.

“Cheers!” we clinked glasses, and I took a cautious sip of what I thought was water but tasted like pure fire. The burn hit me so fast, I practically choked.

“That’s disgusting! How do you guys drink this stuff?” I gasped, pushing the glass away as my throat burned like it had just met lava.

“It’s an acquired taste,” Lucy said with a grin, clearly enjoying my suffering. “Next round, I promise something fruity.”

Mina snapped her fingers at Lucy. “Make the woman a Kami!”

“So demanding,” Lucy sighed, but a few moments later, she handed me a frothy, pink drink. “Try this. You’ll like it.”

I took a cautious sip, surprised to find it actually tasted good. The burn was still there, but it was wrapped in this sweet, tangy burst of raspberry. I took another sip, feeling warmth spread through me like I’d just been wrapped in a blanket of comfort.

“Good, right?” Lucy prompted, watching me carefully, her grin not quite hiding her excitement.

“Really good,” I nodded, a little more confidently this time, taking a bigger drink.

“Just pace yourself,” Mina warned, raising an eyebrow. “There’s more alcohol in those than it tastes.”

Hours flew by in a blur of movies, laughter, and progressively more ridiculous makeovers. By the time we finished Clueless, I was sprawled across the couch, my head resting in Lucy’s lap with Mina snuggled up against my legs. The room felt warm and familiar, and—surprisingly—comfortable. Like I belonged.

“The night’s still young! What’s next?” Lucy stretched, her voice muffled by the pillow she was hugging to her chest.

“Leo!” Mina shouted, her eyes practically sparkling. “The night isn’t over until we’ve seen Leo!”

Lucy popped in Titanic and grabbed another drink from the kitchen, moving just a little slower now, like the alcohol was finally starting to catch up. “Anyone else?”

“I shouldn’t—” I started.

“Nonsense!” Mina interrupted, poking me in the side with a wicked grin. “You’re still way too coherent for a proper Girls’ Night.”

Rolling my eyes, I accepted the glass she handed me. “Fine. But if I pass out, I’m blaming you.”

By the time Jack was sketching Rose, I’d stopped keeping track of the drinks, and the night had dissolved into fits of laughter and way-too-drunk confessions. At one point, Lucy and Mina reenacted the “I’m flying” scene, nearly knocking over the wine bottle in the process.

But as the movie stretched into the early hours, I found myself comfortable—maybe too comfortable, considering how much I’d indulged. As the credits rolled, Mina turned to me, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Okay, real talk, Y/N. Never?” Lucy asked, her voice serious but with that mischievous gleam in her eyes that I knew meant she was circling back to the topic she was clearly obsessed with.

“Nope,” I said, crossing my arms like some sort of rebellious fortress. I wasn’t budging.

“That’s just... so wrong,” Lucy groaned, her eyes practically rolling out of her head. “Your lady business must be staging a rebellion.”

“There are plenty of people who make it to twenty-four without sex,” I said, rolling my eyes like I was offering them the most obvious truth in the universe.

“Yeah, but you’re hot!” Mina chimed in, her hands waving around like she was making a dramatic point. “Guys should be lining up for you!”

“I’d jump you,” Mina added with a grin, her finger lazily plucking at the fuzz on my pants like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Thanks, Mina,” I laughed, genuinely amused. “That’s true friendship right there.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied, her expression pure contentment, like she’d just solved world peace.

“I don’t know what to tell you guys,” I admitted, my thoughts briefly flickering to Jungkook. “I just never really had the opportunity.”

“There’s gotta be at least one hot male figure skater you could’ve, you know, jumped in the weight room,” Lucy teased, her tone teasing but somehow still playful.

“Lucy, some people actually use the gym for exercise,” I shot back, feeling like I was dodging a slow-motion car crash.

“Oh, believe me, Y/N, I use it for recreational purposes,” Lucy quipped, her grin devilish. “My idea of ‘recreation’ just doesn’t match yours.”

“Perv,” I muttered, laughing, trying to shield myself from her shenanigans.

"Proud to be one!" Lucy declared, her laughter echoing through the room like a contagious wave.

“We need to find you a guy,” Mina said suddenly, tapping her chin like she was a mastermind concocting a plan for world domination. “Lucy, who do we know?”

“No way!” I held up my hands defensively. “You are not setting me up with anyone.”

“But, Y/N!” Mina protested, as if this was a criminal injustice.

“I can find my own guy if I want to,” I insisted, my thoughts unwillingly drifting to Jungkook. I bit my lip, and it was like they could read me like a book.

“Oh, look at that face!” Mina practically lunged at me. “You met someone, didn’t you?”

“No!” I shot back a little too quickly, feeling the heat of embarrassment climb up my neck.

“You can’t fool us, honey,” Mina said, her voice full of mock disbelief. “That face has ‘crush’ written all over it!” She leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Who’s the guy? Is he hot? Is he here? Did you kiss him? Why didn’t you say something earlier?” Her questions were coming at me like a machine gun, and I was about to implode.

“There’s nothing to tell!” I mumbled, sinking deeper into the couch, wishing I could just disappear.

“Y/N!” Mina cried dramatically. “We’ve been with Chim and Tae for years! We need to live vicariously through your romantic escapades!”

“What romantic escapades?” I shot back, trying—and failing—to sound cool and detached.

Lucy raised an eyebrow, her look knowing and challenging. “You’re hiding something boy-related. Spill.”

“Fine!” I groaned, throwing my hands up in defeat. “I met a guy at the airport. We talked for a few minutes while he helped me with my bags. That’s it. Can we move on now?”

“No, we cannot move on!” Lucy said, her eyes practically popping out of her head. “Was he cute?”

“Yeah, I guess,” I shrugged, trying to sound indifferent, but the truth was, I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

“You guess?” Mina echoed, her brow almost disappearing into her hairline.

“I wouldn’t really call him ‘cute,’” I muttered, my face burning as I tried to downplay it.

“Well, what would you call him then?” Mina’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “Hot? Sexy? Drop-dead gorgeous? Fuckhawt?”

“Uh… all of the above?” I finally admitted, which sent them into a squealing frenzy that could’ve shattered glass.

“Did you kiss him? Did you give him your number? When are you seeing him again?” they fired off at me, like they were in some kind of interrogation scene in a rom-com.

“No, I didn’t kiss him, and I didn’t give him my number,” I confessed, biting my lip as I fought to suppress the butterflies. “But, yeah, he suggested we meet up again. That’s all.”

Mina looked at me, her expression downright disappointed. “Why didn’t you give him your number?”

“I don’t know, Mina!” I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “I have no clue what I’m doing when it comes to guys. He didn’t ask for my number, and I wasn’t about to throw it at him if he was just being polite.”

“I’m sure he wasn’t just being polite, Y/N,” Lucy said, her tone dripping with conviction, like she knew something I didn’t.

“Whatever,” I sighed, trying to steer the ship away from that topic. “He was gorgeous and sweet, and yes, he gave me butterflies, but I’ll probably never see him again, so can we please talk about something else?”

Mina leaned back with a dreamy sigh, her eyes practically glowing with unspoken wisdom. “Don’t worry, Y/N. Your butterflies are still out there. You just have to catch them.”

© chimcess, 2025. Do not copy or repost without permission.

Taglist: @smartkookiee @knightofmidnight @mar-lo-pap @jjeonjjk7 @somewhatjungkook @lovingkoalaface @jimineepaboya @iswearimover5feetall @blissingtaehyung @futuristicenemychaos @kooloveys @jenniebyrubies @8thmuse @beattiestreet @tatzzz-25

[venacavaflora]

ﾟ･𓂃‧₊˚⿻ Dad who keeps his aggression a secret. he’s always quiet, always stoic, yet it never seems like it. to you at least. all his attention, effort, worry, and focus is on you. conversing with friends about weekend plans or shopping trips, and somehow not having to ask him to ever change his schedule for you.

ﾟ･𓂃‧₊˚⿻ he adores you, and adores everyone knowing you’re the biggest Daddy’s girl. so when he sits you on his lap and explains how you’re always such a good girl for him, how you always take instruction so well, how much he adores his kind little girl, it's not unusual to you.

ﾟ･𓂃‧₊˚⿻ when his hands start to massage your thighs and the knots out your lower back, it’s normal for you. hearing him ask you to trust him, however, was new. feeling his fingers graze higher and higher, such caution in his touch gave you goosebumps.

ﾟ･𓂃‧₊˚⿻ when his palm finds its way sliding over your collarbone, feeling you swallow and the rush of your carotid, you’re not scared, but curious. “you know Daddy would never hurt you, not unless you wanted me to, isn’t that right sweet girl? you know i’d only ever make you feel good, hm?”

ﾟ･𓂃‧₊˚⿻ you nod as much as you can with his hand on your neck, flustered as thoughts of after-school drives, late-night talks, and cuddle sessions fill your head. “Dad wants to try something new, kiddo. can you take a slow, deep breath, and hold still for me?”

ﾟ･𓂃‧₊˚⿻ he lets you get about halfway through the breath before his fingers tighten. the feeling of your air seeping slower and slower into your lungs, the pressure of his thigh pushing into your panties, time feels like it’s slowing down. “just breathe, princess. thatsss it, just breathe, and relax for Daddy.”

ﾟ･𓂃‧₊˚⿻ he knew the added security of him holding onto your waist was all it would take to feel your body soaking into his, and soak you did. your vision was starting to blur, his whispers of praise sounded further away, and your heartbeat getting closer. “i want you __ ____ no matter what ___ _______ my perfect toy.”

ﾟ･𓂃‧₊˚⿻ you whimpered and grabbed his arm, clawing as he chuckled. he couldn’t help but pull you closer, looking down at your nail with his initial on it being the cherry on top, and giving you one last squeeze. your sight is fading before you feel air finally able to flood your lungs again, feeling the weight of one hand still on your throat and another rubbing your back.

ﾟ･𓂃‧₊˚⿻“breathe, slowly, there you go. such a good girl, i’m so proud of you kiddo. you trusted Daddy completely and fully, so proud!” coughing with your eyes welling up, taking deep breaths whilst being handed a cup of water. the wet spot in your panties almost made you feel like it wasn’t needed.

ﾟ･𓂃‧₊˚⿻ the sight in front of him could convince him you were an angel. turning you around to drink every detail in, “my beautiful girl. i want you to be prepared for that to happen often. think of it as a really deep kiss from Dad, to show how much i love my darling little princess. to remind you your daddy will always be here, needing, and wanting you.” bear hugging you and kissing your sweat-sheened forehead <3

[gastersans]

Hey guys!

I’m sorry I haven’t been around much lately. It’s not fair to people I care very much about to be silent! The long story short is that life hits you very fast and all at once sometimes on many levels, and my unfortunate tendency in hectic mode is to shut out and focus on just getting to the next day. It’s no excuse, of course, but I do hope you understand—and I hope you all are hanging in there as well.

I’m not sure when I can return to writing again, but I hope to. It always seems like I’m waiting to have some time and energy, but I think I’m just going to have to intentionally build a block for the creative things important to me among everything. Even if I’m not publishing anything, I am always thinking about it in one part of my mind. I love those stories, and I’m so glad to share them with you.

Thank you to anyone who was checking in! I love you all always, even if I don’t have the words to reply—and I’m always going to try to better show that.

Tl;dr below the cut: details of life been going on.

:read more:

Thanks for being curious! I’ll try to be as brief as I can, but I have traditionally failed at every attempt at that in these posts. To be honest, the past year or two has been a bit of a blur, so I’ll just talk in generalities rather than a specific timeline.

Everything at work changed at the organizational level. Unfortunately I can’t say much about it—for personal reasons, which I know is odd to say. My work is mixed in with family ties, justices and beliefs I advocate for, etc, so I can’t talk too much about it—but boy is that lasagna layered. That dynamic alone is both a hugely important but often very stressful to navigate in of itself.

Among the organizational change, my position drastically changed—I went from clinician to a manager of the sizeable department I worked for—and then a couple months later inherited a second, nearly double the size department to manage on top of it when my fellow manager left.

Right as my position was changing for the first time, my dad—living states away—got sick with some still undiagnosed illness. Bizarre body movements, signs of a stroke but no evidence found—not Parkinson’s, though the symptoms seem somewhere between it and a slow rolling dementia. If you’d like to read a small loving rant about my dad: My father is the most wonderful, kindest, politest, humblest human who is also a literal unrecognized hero twice over—he dedicated his entire life his two jobs. One was his role as an assistant Harbormaster—not infrequently rescuing people, lost in dark seas in the dead winter nights (among much grimmer tales)—a job which got paid pennies for, with decades-old resources and, if he was lucky, his name might be pages deep in the local paper. The second job was as a teacher in the worst school in the city next door—and he taught the “behavioral needs” kids. He was stabbed multiple times—the final time was in the stomach, shortly after he had come back from his leave after battling prostate cancer. He understood the kids were sick, or needed help. In addition to being a great teacher (I didn’t appreciate it at the time, but my dad often help walk us through homework to ensure we knew it—requested or not), my dad would take his students to different places— the beach for a wildlife lesson, or the local laser tag place just for fun they often couldn’t afford)—on his own dime. He tried to give them an education about the world and life, and not just books they had given up trying to read. Jeeze, sorry, I need to be able to do a cut under this cut. I could go on for days.

After that attack, my dad has had much random issues, landing him in the hospital and my family in crisis mode one time after another. We find (but never confirm) that the neurological attack might be from an infection in his knee—a botched or failing knee replacement (his third—standing on a choppy boat or at a chalkboard all day is murder on your knees). The infection has spread terribly. We nearly lose him. He continues to show cognitive decline. He improves. He gets pneumonia, we nearly lose him again. He comes back to us for a while. A random night a few weeks later, the mesh in his stomach from his prostate cancer a decade ago has failed and is suddenly twisted around his intestine (they guess related to the coughing/pneumonia). We nearly lose him again. He survives. He needs a knee replacement surgery now, but they don’t know if he can handle it or the risk of infection. He survives. Theyve noticed something wrong with his heart. He has heart surgery, survives. Another heart surgery, survives again. All the while continuing to cognitively decline. He’s a brilliant man—it’s heartbreaking to see, but I know he’s still in there all the while.

I know I missed some things above. As all of this is going on, I’m flying back and forth between states, trying to manage two departments that were previously handled by two incredibly competent, incredibly busy people that is now just me. The work is important, there’s pressures of family legacy involved, it’s nonprofit and clinical and complex and often dealing with very serious physical, mental health, ethical or even legal matters.

And, of course, trying to balance the normal things of life—making time for friends and family, trying to maintain (and sustain) my home, dating and now maintaining a beloved partnership… These things are also important. And then my parents were here for just the summer, so I’m trying to spend each moment I can stand to spare with them, in that horrid phase where it’s in your face of how little time may be left. And of course, there are the other things—other loved ones lost, trying to do what you can and pay attention to the important things in the world, trying to enjoy sitting holding my cat’s paw while marathoning YouTube and a phone game after a long day at work.

Again, I hope to be back to things someday. In my free time I write snippets, dream scenarios. I miss the writing—and the people—and it’s hard to find a pinhole to carve out for any time for myself. I’m trying, I’m trying, and I love you all.

Hope to talk more soon.

[bloodibambiidoll]

Everlasting Sweetheart

(Older!Alpha!Eddie Munson x Omega!Fem!Reader)

Summary: Ever since you presented there’s never been an alpha that smelled alluring to you. But when you move to Hawkins to be closer to your family you catch the scent of your next door neighbor, who just so happens to be the most handsome older man you’ve ever seen, and he smells phenomenal. It’s just your luck that he’d end up being your dad’s best friend, right? WK:15.3k(Oopsie)

Warnings: General Omegaverse behaviors (scenting, knotting, marking), age gap (Eddie is 41, reader is 27) breeding kink, unprotected sex, oral (m & f receiving), some angst (with a happy ending), mutual pining, pregnancy mentions, it’s the mid 00s (around 2007), fluff, Eddie and reader are both so down bad. 18+MDNI!!

A/N: Okay, I truly put my heart and soul into this one. This is the longest fic I’ve ever written and I honestly feel like Dr. Frankenstein and this is my monster. Thank you to my lovely betas @babygorewhore @bimbobaggins69 & @reidsbtch for always being amazing and hyping me up. And a special thank you to my omegaverse Jedi master @lesservillain, thank you for brainstorming with me and gassing me up throughout this entire process, this one’s for you, shawty. (older!Eddie edit is by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple) Masterlist.

You smelled it the minute you entered the building and it hasn’t left your nose since. That musky, woodsy smell that had hints of something spicy sweet, like cinnamon. It’s been a week since you moved in and you can smell it in every crevice of your apartment. It’s intoxicating. You’ve never been attracted to the smell of an alpha in this way. But there was only one problem, you’ve yet to lay eyes on the owner of the scent. Not for lack of trying either, you took extra long pulling your keys out, put some cute decorations on your front door, you even resorted to peeking out the window every time you heard someone walk by. To no avail.

It was starting to drive you insane, other alphas had smelled good to you before but nothing like this. It was like every time you so much as breathed in your panties got just a little bit more damp. Your hands have been wandering between your legs and reaching for the drawer in your nightstand more often than they have in your entire life and you don’t even have a face to blame. Just the scent that you can’t even seem to escape even when you leave the house, it’s like it’s sunken into your pores. You sometimes wonder if they can smell you too.

At the almost two week mark you can’t take it anymore. Deciding to take matters into your own hands you get out all the ingredients you will need to make your homemade cream pie. Baking for your new neighbors was a completely normal, neighborly, thing to do. You would just make the pie and go knock on the door. Easy.

You spent half the day baking and doing chores between steps, purposefully waiting until the evening time when most people would be home from work to deliver your sugary treat. You were also hyping yourself up. You had no idea who this scent that had been plaguing you belonged to. Was it a man? A woman? Did they already have a mate? If they did you don’t think you would be able to smell them this strongly, so you’re banking on them being single.

When 6 o’clock rolls around you decide it’s time to put your plan into motion. You put the finishing touches in the pie before going into your room to find the perfect outfit. Were you just walking ten feet to your neighbors door? Yes. Did you still want to look your best without looking like you tried to look your best? Also yes.

You decide on a little cream dress that has tiny cherries printed all over it and little red bows on the straps, paired with your Mary Jane’s. You put your hair in two braids and do your everyday make up before giving yourself a once over in the mirror. You looked good. The dress fit your figure and accentuated your curves perfectly while also showing off just the right amount of cleavage.

“Alright, you can do this.” You take a deep breath, which doesn’t really help because your nose is just invaded with the scent that you’re hoping to put a face to in the next few minutes. You grab the pie and walk out the door before you can talk yourself out of it.

Eddie lets out an annoyed groan at the sound of a knock on his door, he had just got home from a long day of work and was toweling off after his post work shower. He wasn’t expecting anyone, who the hell is at his door at 7PM on a Wednesday night unannounced? The only people that come here are his friends, and they always call before.

There’s a second round of soft knocks so he quickly finishes drying off his hair before wrapping the dampened cloth around his waist. He pulls the bathroom door open and is immediately hit with the scent. The bathroom filled with steam and the smell of his own shower products seemed to be the only place he could escape it nowadays. But he’s never smelled it this strongly. He knows a new omega moved in next door, he’s been able to smell them since the day they walked into the complex. But he’s yet to catch a glimpse of them. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. Eddie gave up on the hope of finding a mate years ago. Every time he tried to be with an omega they either smelled off to him or he smelled off to them.

But ever since he caught a whiff of this scent it’s been plaguing his senses. A scent has never smelled sweeter, or stronger. It’s like someone turned his house into the best bakery in town. It smelled like whoever lived next door was baking the most delicious cookies anyone’s ever tasted. When he got home today the sweetness was at an all time high, especially when he walked past his new neighbors door. He couldn’t help himself when he stopped outside of it to inhale deeply. It was so delicious it made his head spin. And now? The smell was getting stronger with every step he took towards the door. It made his heart rate speed up and his cock stir under the thin material of the towel around his waist.

He approaches the door and his hand hovers over the knob for a second. He needed to get himself under control. If the owner of the scent that’s been possessing him for the last two weeks is on the other side he needs to try and keep it together. He sighs, shaking his head so his hair falls off his shoulders before grabbing onto the knob and pulling the door open. The swing of the door kicks up wind, sending the smell wafting directly towards him. It nearly knocks him on his ass, his ears start to ring, his eyes land on a pair of shiny black Mary Jane’s before traveling up a pair of bare legs, hungrily drinking in curves covered by the thin material of a pretty little dress, until they land on the most beautiful face he’s ever seen. Your face. Your eyes are wide, your pupils blown, your dainty ring covered fingers are clutching what looks like a pie tin. The way you’re looking at him like a little deer caught in the headlights is making him want to tackle you to the ground and-

“Uh - hi… I’m your new neighbor. I just wanted to say hello and introduce myself, and I uh - I made you this.” You raise the baked good in your hands up between the two of you with a nervous smile.

“Oh - um - yeah, thank you, that’s really nice of you.” He anxiously scratches the back of his neck, returning your smile with a nervous one of his own. “Do you bake a lot? I swear ever since you moved in it smells like someone opened a bakery next door.”

“Usually yes, this is the first time I’ve gotten my baking stuff out since the move though.” He watches as your eyes roam over his bare inked chest, down to his hips where the towel is resting lowly, almost showing off the patch of hair above his cock. Were you checking him out? You had to be almost half his age. What would you want with an old unwanted alpha like him? He needs to get it together. You're just being nice, neighborly. “But I uh - just wanted to say hello, I won’t keep you. You seem busy.”

“Wait!” He didn’t even realize how desperate it sounded until it left his lips. God Eddie, snap out of it. “You didn’t even tell me your name, sweetheart.”

“Oh! I guess that’s kind of part of introducing yourself, huh?” You giggle and tell him your name and it goes off like a mantra in his head. “And you are?”

“Pretty name for a pretty girl. I’m Eddie.” He offers you a friendly smile, holding his hand out for you to shake. You take it and the minute your skin grazes his it’s like a shockwave is sent through his body. His entire body was on fire. Especially where he was still holding your soft hand in his larger rough one. Oh shit he was still holding onto your hand. “Shit, sorry, I just got this towel out of the dryer, must be staticky.”

“Huh? Oh! That’s okay, might’ve been me too, I just did some laundry and I’m out of dryer sheets.” You shrug, pulling your hand from his. He immediately feels cold, and misses the feeling of your touch. What is going on with him? No one has ever had this kind of effect on him. He doesn’t even know you. But god he wants to. Your sweet voice, your otherworldly scent, your curves in that little dress you were wearing. Your hair was off your neck and he could see your mating gland so clearly. He wanted to sink his teeth into it. A shiver runs through him at the thought.

“Oh I’m sorry! You must be so cold standing here, I won’t keep you. Here! I hope you like it, it’s my signature cream pie!” You hold the pie out to him with the sweetest smile on your face. God was everything about you sweet? And you baked for him? A cream pie? No omega has ever made anything for him and it was doing things to him he wished it wasn’t. He needs to get away from you before he pops a very noticeable boner through his towel.

“Thank you om- sweetheart, that was very sweet of you.” He takes the pie from you, giving you the most casual smile he can muster.

“No problem, baking relaxes me, so it was my pleasure.” You clasp your hands together in front of you, rocking back and forth in your heels a few times. “Well I’ll uh - see you around, Eddie. It was nice meeting you.”

“Yeah, it was nice to meet you too, thanks again for the pie. Have a good night.” He offers you a small smile and a nod before he’s rushing back inside, slamming the door behind him. “Fuck.”

It’s been a few days since you finally put a face to the scent that feels like it has been clogging your every pore. But it was like somehow the encounter enhanced it by tenfold. You don’t know who you were expecting to be on the other side of that door but that man is something straight out of your fantasies. He was gorgeous. His curly chestnut hair was slightly dripping from the shower, droplets sliding down his broad tattooed chest. The muscles in his abs and arms, which were also covered in tattoos, made it seem like he definitely spent some of his time working out. His face was gorgeous, the way he smiled at you and the shine of his brown doe eyes made you feel like your insides were melting. But most of all? Smelling him that close made your head spin. You’d never smelled anything or anyone like him. You wanted to bottle it up and snort it like your new favorite drug.

Just because you haven’t seen him, it doesn’t mean you haven’t tried. You find yourself peeking out your window when you hear footsteps in the hallway an embarrassing amount, you linger in your doorway when you’re coming and going more often than not, and you even started spending more time on your balcony in hope that he might decide to use his at the same time as you. To no avail. But the walls were thin, so you could hear him, and even though the building was supposed to be a secondary gender coed complex with insulated walls, you could still smell him. Constantly.

Sometimes you’d hear him playing 80s metal while slight grunts floated through the walls. You couldn’t tell if he was working out or jerking off but you honestly hoped for the ladder. You’d hear him clanking around in his kitchen, singing along to dorky dad rock, the kind of shit your dad listens to. Sometimes you’d hear him playing guitar and you aren’t even ashamed to admit that you’ve pleasured yourself to the sound once or twice, wrapped in a veil of his scent as it travels through your shared bedroom wall.

He was driving you insane, you needed to see him again. So when you were baking your dads favorite chocolate cupcakes you decided it wouldn’t hurt to make a few extra for Eddie. It gave you a chance to see him again, and baking also genuinely calmed you. You knew it was definitely mostly your biological instinct but you genuinely enjoyed caring for others. Cooking for them, helping them with self care, offering comforting touches, it all soothed something and scratched an itch inside you that could only be described as primal.

You frosted the cupcakes, putting a few of them in a separate container for Eddie before going to get dressed. You noticed he usually got home around 5:30PM and judging by your last visit he usually showered immediately so you had some time to figure out your outfit and fix your hair and make up to your liking. You decided to go with a little black mini skirt, a cropped black cardigan with nothing underneath, your white ruffle socks, and your Mary Jane’s. You put your hair in two low pigtails and tie white ribbons around each one. You grab the cupcakes off the counter and walk out the door a little after 6:45PM.

You take a deep breath, which literally does nothing to help you while you’re standing right outside his front door, his scent invading your nostrils, making your head spin. You knock on the door lightly before taking a step back, adjusting your already straight skirt out of nervousness. You hear footsteps on the other side of the door and as the knob turns your heart rate quickens.

“Oh, hi.” Eddie’s eyes are wide, and he scratches the back of his neck in a way that makes you think he’s almost nervous. But he couldn’t be, could he? This man was gorgeous, and he smelled phenomenal, he had to be popular with women, right? There’s no way he wasn’t. He was wearing fucking grey sweatpants this time, and an old band tee that he cut the neck and hem off of. He also cut off the sleeves, exposing his toned arms and his tattooed ribs.

“Hey! I was baking cupcakes for my dad and I made more than him or I will ever need to eat, so I figured I’d bring you some of the extras!” You smile at him sweetly as you hold up the container.

“That’s… really sweet, thanks.” Is he blushing? Cute. He takes the container from you, your fingers brush and send that same shockwave through your entire body, causing you to let out a small gasp. It was so small that if you weren’t in the worlds most echo prone hallway he probably wouldn’t have heard it.

“Of course, it’s really no trouble at all. Did you uh - enjoy the pie?” You clear your throat, trying to compose yourself.

“Yeah, fuck, it was delicious, sweetheart. Thank you. I’ve never had a pie that good before. You some kind of professional baker or something?” He gives you a lopsided grin and it relieves some of the tension in the air. But the nickname and the glint in his eye pick up your heart rate in a different way and you have to stop yourself from clenching your

thighs at the combination of the sight and smell of him.

“Oh nothing like that, I mean, I just opened a little bakery downtown and I went to culinary school but I wouldn’t call myself a professional or anything.” You giggle, twirling a strand of your hair around your fingers.

“That’s a professional in my book, you’re like a certified dealer of baked goods.” He chuckles, wiggling his eyebrows at you playfully and it makes butterflies erupt in your tummy.

“If you say so.” You giggle again, rocking back and forth on your feet. “But I’m glad you liked the pie, I hope you like these too. If you ever have any requests I’d love to make you something you’re actually craving sometime.”

You didn’t realize how suggestive that sounded until Eddie started going into a coughing fit, choking on air at your words.

“Sorry I - didn’t mean - “

“Hey, I’d love for you to give me something I’m craving sometime, sugar.” He smirks, his eyes momentarily unashamedly roaming your figure. “I’m a big fan of peach cobbler, if you ever want to go to all the trouble for an old man like me.”

“Psh! You’re not even that old! How old are you, like 35?” You playfully roll your eyes at him, feeling calmed by his demeanor yet again.

“Try 41, sweets.” He chuckles, his hand coming up to rub the well trimmed stubble on his chin. Now that his hair is dry you can see a few grays throughout and if anything it just makes him sexier. “And what about you, huh? Bet I’m like twice your age.”

“Not even! I’ll have you know I’m 27.” You tell him matter of factly.

“Alright, you got me there, bet you still get carded at all the bars, huh? Pretty little thing like you.” Oh god, he’s fully flirting with you now.

“Hey I could say the same for you, handsome. I thought you were younger. You look good.” You wink at him, taking an opportunity to let your eyes roam him for a moment. “You should taste them, the cupcakes.”

“Alright, as you wish.” He pops open the container, taking one of the chocolatey treats in his ring adorned tattooed hand. He pulls back the shiny red paper, and takes a large bite. His eyes roll back and a moan leaves the back of his throat. You have to hold in one of your own at the sound. You can’t help but imagine what he looks like when he cums in that moment. “Fuuuuck this is so goddamn good, thank you, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, sure Eddie, anytime. I’ll uh, see you around?” You smile at him hopefully.

“Yeah, I’ll be around. If you ever need anything, let me know, alright?” He returns your smile, using his thumb to push some frosting on the corner of his mouth between his lips, sucking it off. Alright, time to go, before you say or do something stupid.

“Cool, same to you. Have a good night.” You offer him a small wave.

“Yeah, have a good night, sugar.”

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Eddie was starting to think you put a spell on him, he had only spoken to you twice and you were all he could think about it. He found his mind wandering when he was at work, almost tattooing his clients on autopilot. His coworkers all called him out, asking who the “special lady” who had his head in the clouds was. He brushed them off, of course. You weren’t really anything to him other than his neighbor, but that didn’t mean you weren’t necessarily special. There was just something about you. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it but it was like part of him was missing when you weren’t around. Which sounded ridiculous, but it didn’t help that he could smell you constantly. Even when he wasn’t at home it was like your scent was embedded in his fucking bones.

The fact that you kept baking for him didn’t help, it was doing something to the alpha in him that he’s never experienced. He’s never had an omega fuss over him in any way, so you were really pulling on his heart strings. It didn’t hurt that you were a knockout. You were absolutely the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes on. He didn’t think you’d be interested in him, due to his age, but you were definitely flirting with him when you brought him those cupcakes yesterday. Eddie’s dating game might be rusty, but he wasn’t blind. He still had his doubts, you could just be having some fun with your new neighbor. Omegas were never interested in him for more than a quick fuck, the amount of times he’s been told that something about his scent was just “off” has left him insecure and rough around the edges.

He’s deep in his thoughts about you when he exits the elevator to your shared floor, where he’s immediately flooded with your scent like he always is. But something about it today was off, and not in the way those omegas meant about his being off, you were distressed. He could tell from the way you smelled just a little sour, but still so so good. It immediately sent him into a panic, were you okay? Did someone hurt you? Did you need help?

He swiftly turns the corner to your hall and he sees you standing in front of your door with your cell phone held to your ear. You’re anxiously tapping your foot while you chew on the nails of your free hand. Whoever you’re calling clearly doesn’t answer because you throw your head back, slamming the flip phone shut with a groan.

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The sound of heavy footsteps has you whipping your head in the direction of your intruder. Something inside you softens at the sight of Eddie approaching you with a concerned look on his face. You had been trying to call the property company for the last hour. After you took a shower you tried to turn it off but no matter how hard you turn it the hot water knob won't budge. So your shower had been running for the last hour and a half at least.

“Hey, are you alright?” The concern in his voice matched the furrow in his brow, it was almost like you could even smell his concern dripping into his scent. You wonder if maybe his alpha nose caught a whiff of your distress. You’ve been told by other alphas you smell awful when you’re upset.

“Yeah, no, kind of? I don’t know. My shower won’t shut off and the stupid fucking property management isn’t picking up their emergency phone.” You huff, clutching your little hot pink razor in your hand.

“Yeah, they basically never answer that damn phone, they might as well just stop giving it out at this point. These faucets are old and finicky, mine gets stuck from corrosion all the time. I can check it out, if you want?”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother, but I’d really appreciate the help. I can cook up a storm but I don’t know a damn thing when it comes to things like this.” Your lips form into a pout and Eddie wants to kiss it off so badly. It was becoming increasingly harder each time he sees you to control himself around you.

“It’s not a bother, sugar. I told you to tell me if you needed anything, remember? I think this qualifies. Let me just grab my tools, alright?” He shoots you a wink that has you almost forgetting why you were even upset a few seconds ago.

It only took him a few minutes to come back out of his apartment with his tools in hand. If he was being honest he spent a little extra time trying to calm himself down before going inside your home. Surrounded by your scent and all things you. You smile sweetly at him, opening your front door to let him inside.

Eddie feels like the wind got knocked out of him the minute he steps into your apartment. If he thought your smell was overpowering in his house it was mind altering inside your own. His knees felt like they were going to give out and he had to will himself to not get hard. He took a quick look around while you led him towards the bathroom. Your decor was cute, it had an almost vintage witchy kind of feel to it and it was extremely cozy. Your purple velvet couch and the framed horror movie posters give him a tiny bit of insight on who you are. You had candles lit, and your radio was quietly playing some kind of whiny emo sounding music he’s heard in passing but couldn’t name. It was all so unique, just like your scent.

“Okay so, the cold knob and the shower knob work just fine but the hot won’t turn off. It’s like stuck or something.” You walk into the bathroom and he follows, pushing back your black and purple moonphase curtain. You take advantage of the opportunity to ogle him while his back is turned to you. He looks good today. A plain black tee shirt is tight on his broad shoulders, black jeans that are ripped at the knees and hug his ass just right, and black doc martens on his feet. His hair is tied back in a low bun and he has his usual rings on his fingers, a studded belt and a pants chain complete the look. He was so fucking hot. Damn.

“Yeah, it’s just a little bit of corrosion. Easy fix.” He looks over his shoulder at you and you try to avert your gaze, or at least close your fucking mouth but you can tell by the smirk he gives you that he caught you gawking.

“Sweet. Thanks, Eddie.” You give him the most composed smile you can. Having him in your home was making you dizzy. You’ve never felt like this before. You’ve been around plenty of and even slept with a few other alphas but something about Eddie was different. It’s like someone made him in a factory, just for you. You wanted to climb him like a tree and shove your nose in his scent gland if you were being honest.

“Sure thing, sugar.” He leans over to grab a few tools from his toolbox and his tee shirt rides up, revealing a delicious silver of tattooed skin. The way his hands looked gripping the tools and the grunts he was letting out as he started to loosen the knob had you clenching your thighs. Not only did he look absolutely delicious, he was also taking care of you, and the omega inside warmed at the thought. His neck muscles flexed and the veins on his hands were bulging. His musky scent filled the room, and it was starting to make you dizzy. You felt a layer of sweat starting to build on your skin underneath your hoodie and you suddenly felt like how you feel the days leading up to your heat.

“I’m thirsty, do you want anything to drink?” Your voice comes out as a little shaky, despite your best efforts to center yourself. “I have umm… water, fresh squeezed lemonade, milk, tea, I could make coffee, I think I have some red wine.”

“I’ll take some of that lemonade, if you don’t mind.” He turns his body to look at you, a boyish grin plastered on his face.

“One lemonade, coming right up.” You give him a thumbs up you immediately decide was probably as awkward as the smile on your face. You just need to get away from him for a second. You turn and rush out of the bathroom, your knees buckling as you grasp onto the kitchen counter for support. “Jesus Christ, get it together.”

Your heat wasn’t due for another two weeks but you felt like it was going to happen any second. Your head was spinning, you felt feverish, the warmth of your skin causing you to rip your hoodie over your head, leaving you in just your small cropped tank and your sleep shorts. But it still felt like too much. A stabbing pain shoots through your core and causes you to cry out.

Eddie tightens the wrench tight, turning the knob off and on a few times to make sure it’s working right. When it works both times he smiles triumphantly. His smile drops immediately when he hears you cry out in what sounds like pain. He drops the wrench on the ground and runs out of the room in a panic. The minute he enters the kitchen he starts to feel dizzy. Your scent is stronger and sweeter than ever before, your hoodie is discarded on the ground next to you leaving your curves exposed to him in your little pajamas. But that’s not even the worst part. Your body is folded over the kitchen counter and covered in a shein layer of sweat, you’re panting while little whimpers escape from your lips. But worst of all? There’s saccharine sweet slick dripping down your thighs. Fuck.

“Hey, are you okay?” Eddie wants to kick himself for asking, obviously you’re not. You tense at the sound of his voice, but you don’t turn to look at him. A whine louder than the others leaves your lips and your body shakes slightly.

“No - I - yeah, I’ll be fine. This is embarrassing, I’m sorry. I wasn’t due for my heat for a few weeks I wouldn’t have invited you in if-“

“Hey.” His large hand on your shoulder makes you jump at first but then it sends a feeling of relief washing through you. His scent is still overwhelming but it’s also so soothing. You want to throw yourself into his arms and inhale his scent gland until you can’t breathe anymore. “Don’t be embarrassed, it’s totally natural, I’m not judging you or anything. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. Your shower is fixed. I should uh - I should go.”

A whine involuntary wracks through you at the thought of him leaving, but if you asked him to stay and help you, would he? He hardly knew you. You don’t even know if you smell good to him or not. But the primal part of your brain doesn’t care, the primal part of you just wants him to make it all go away.

“I’m sorry, I just know if I stay here I’m not going to be able to control myself and I don’t want to do anything to take advantage of you or make you uncomfortable.” He pats your shoulder awkwardly, it’s taking everything in him not to rip those shorts in half and shove his cock balls deep inside you in one thrust. He knows he could, your little omega pussy is dripping and ready for his knot. Every single instinct in his body is screaming at him to help you. The thought of leaving you here alone makes him want to puke, but he also doesn’t want to take advantage of your vulnerable state. He doesn’t want you to do anything you’d regret later because he doesn’t know if he can handle being one of your regrets.

“Please.” It comes out a broken whisper but Eddie could hear you loud and clear. He was pretty sure he knew what you were asking, but he needed you to tell him.

“Please what, sugar?” His large calloused hand runs up and down your arm and you try to hold in the moan that escapes you but it slips past your lips anyways. His touch is like what you imagine taking a hit of hard drugs feels like.

“Please, help me Eddie.” You turn your head towards him, your cheek squished up against the cool countertop. You look up at him through your lashes, your lips forced into a pout. “Make it go away.”

“Sweetheart… are you sure? I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret once you have a clear head…” He pushes your hair out of your face, his thumb running along the apple of your cheek. You subconsciously nuzzle into his palm and you’re just so sweet he wants to devour you.

“Won’t regret it. Want you so bad. I can smell you all the time, you smell so good. You make me crazy. Please, I need you.” Eddie lets out an exasperated breath. So you could smell him too, and he smelled good to you. He’s never had an omega tell him that and it filled him with pride. He’s never felt truly needed by someone in the way his body biologically desired, he’s never spent a heat with an omega before. Now this pretty little thing was practically begging for him. How could he refuse?

“I can smell you too, ya know? The day you moved in I caught your scent. I’ve never smelled anything like you before, and you’re so beautiful. If we do this I don’t know how I’m going to let you go afterwards.”

“Then don’t.” You say it so matter of fact, and he can tell your awareness was slipping, soon all you’d be able to think about was his knot.

“Are you positive about this? I mean it, I’m already addicted to you and I haven’t even tasted you yet.” His thick thumb runs over your pouty bottom lip and you dart your tongue across the pad of it. You moan, the taste of his sweat sending another wave of slick down your legs.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything, alpha.” Eddie fucking growls at that, grabbing you by the waist and throwing you over his shoulder. He carries you to your room and tosses you on the bed. He leans over you, his ink adorned forearms on either side of your head. His face is inches from yours and you can’t take it anymore, you thread your fingers through his hair, pulling his mouth down to connect his lips to your own.

When your lips connect both of your bodies feel like they’re on fire, Eddie suddenly feels the overpowering need to protect you from anything and everything for the rest of his life, to sink his teeth into the juncture of your neck, and stuff you full of his cum. Plugging it with his knot so none escapes, and he doesn’t want to stop until you have his baby inside you. He’s not even in his rut and he’s never felt like this before in his life. Your tongues intertwine and he’s never tasted anything so sweet. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, savoring your taste, drinking up your moans.

“Fuck, you taste so sweet, just like sugar.” He kisses down your jaw to your throat, leaving open mouth kisses on your scent gland. He stops there to shove his nose in your neck, inhaling deeply. His eyes roll in the back of his head and he lets out a feral moan. “Never smelled anything sweeter either, most omegas smell a little off to me, but you? You smell divine, sweet thing.”

“Mmm Eddie, you smell so good too, never smelled anyone as good as you.” Your mind is clouded with lust, the fever rising in your body and the pain in your abdomen due to your heat making you dizzy. He pushes the front of your tank top down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Your back arches off the bed and your hands find purchase in his hair again. He reaches back to pull it free from the hair tie, his mouth switching to your other nipple.

“Glad I smell good to you, most alphas say I smell weird.” He pulls your tank top down to your hips before pushing it down with your shorts in one swift motion, leaving you in just your soaked cotton thong.

“Funny, you’re the first omega to ever tell me I smell good to them too. Maybe we were meant to be baby.” He jokes, sending you a wink before latching his mouth onto your clothed core. A growl rips through him, if he thought your spit tasted good the taste of your slick had to be the most divine cuisine known to man. His tongue flicks out to lick your sensitive clit through the material of your panties and you buck against his mouth.

“More.” If you weren’t so far gone you’d be embarrassed at how broken and desperate your voice sounds but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. All you could think about was Eddie Eddie Eddie.

“I’ll give you anything you want, baby girl, don’t worry. I’m gonna take care of you.” He rips your panties down your legs and hooks your thighs over his shoulders. His face finds your now bare dripping core and he licks a stripe through your slick folds. You moan in unison, you at the feeling, and him at your intoxicating taste. He starts to tongue fuck you as deep as he can, swirling his tongue around inside your walls, collecting your nector on his tongue.

He plunges his tongue into you a few more times, savoring your taste, before dragging it up to circle your clit. The minute he wraps his lips around the sensitive bud an orgasm rips through your body. Your thighs try to clamp shut around his head and your hips raise off the bed. Eddie uses one of his hands to hold you down by the hips while two of his thick fingers circle your entrance before he’s inserting them inside you. He continues to suck on your clit and you don’t even have time to come down from your first orgasm before another one is being ripped from you. Feral moans leave your lips as you rock your hips against him.

“FUCK EDDIE! Shit! Is too much, too much, sensitive.” You whine, pushing your hands against his head. He growls, his tongue licking every inch of your slick covered core before finally pulling away.

“Sorry baby, you just taste so fucking good, and those little moans are my new favorite song. Shit.” He sits up, his stubble covered chin is coated in your slick and he’s looking at you like he wants to eat you alive. You’d let him if he asked. He kisses his way up your torso, stopping to pay your tits and scent gland a little extra attention. When his lips meet your own they taste like you and him combined and you whine into his mouth.

“Eddie, please? Please fuck me? I need to feel you please please please.” You’re begging even though you know he’s going to give you what you want, but all you can think about is him burying himself deep inside you, filling you up with his knot and his cum, making all the pain go away.

“Hey, hey, shhh, it’s okay, sweet thing. Your alpha is gonna make it all go away, okay? Gonna take care of you little omega.” Your alpha, you like the sound of that.

“You’re wearing too much, take it off.” You whine, pulling at the hem of his shirt. The materials of his clothes feel suffocating against your already hot skin, and you want to feel him. He obliges, standing up to pull his shirt over his head. Your eyes roam his figure, your tongue darting out to lick your bottom lip at the sight of his ink covered muscular form. He kicks off his shoes and his hands make quick work of his belt, he undoes his pants, pushing them down with his boxers. His cock springs free, slapping against his bare stomach and a bit of drool actually dribbles down your chin. He’s perfect. Every inch of him.

“Fuck Eddie, you’re beautiful.”

“Coming from you, sugar? That’s a high honor.” He smirks, leaning over you. He takes your chin in his hand, using the grip to place a bruising kiss on your lips. He uses one hand to prop himself up on the bed while he grabs onto his thick cock in the other, running it through your folds. He taps it against your clit a few times, the combination of your slick and his precum causing it to make a sticky wet sound.

He pushes the tip of his cock into your entrance, pulling it out and pushing it back in a few times. You wiggle your hips impatiently, trying to shove him deeper inside you. He finally takes the hint, shoving his cock halfway inside you before pulling it almost all the way out again. When he pushes into you again he doesn’t stop until his balls are flush against your ass.

“Oh my god, shit!” Your hands clutch onto his back, your nails leaving crescent shaped marks in his skin.

“Oh fuuuuuck, your pussy is sucking me in baby. You feel so fucking good.” Almost too good, if he was being honest with himself. He’s fucked a few omegas, but never on their heat, and nobody has ever made him feel like this. It just felt so fucking right. All of it. Your scent, your touch, your kiss. It really was like you were made for him. And even though his mind was clouded with lust, as he snapped his hips into yours, burying himself deep inside you over and over again it all started to make sense to him.

He had learned a little bit about soul bounds back in highschool and he knew a few people in his life that had them but they’re so rare nowadays he had never given them much thought. But the way his ears rang when he first saw you, the electric shockwave that went through the both of you when you shook hands, how he can smell you everywhere. The fact that you’re the first omega to truly smell good to him, and he’s the first alpha to smell good to you. It all clicks into place. You were his fated mate. You really were meant for him.

“Eddieeee, you feel so good, you’re filling me up so good, I’ve never - fuck - I’ve never felt like this before.” Your nails run down his back and your walls clench around his cock as another orgasm takes you by surprise, a rush of slick coating his cock and both of your thighs. He decides while you’re fucked out like this isn’t the time to tell you about his realization, he doesn’t think you know. He’s not even sure if they still educate kids on these kinds of bonds given their rarity.

“That’s a good girl sugar, taking me so well, you gonna let me fill this little pussy up?” He grunts as he thrusts into you deep and hard. His nose finds your scent gland and he sharply inhales. “God baby, you smell so good, my sweet little omega, my sugar.”

His tongue laves out over the juncture of your throat, his teeth lightly brushing over it. God it would be so easy to just sink his teeth into your neck and mark you as his for the rest of your lives. He can tell you want him to, by the way you turn your head to bare your neck to him.

“Do it, I want it.” It’s like you read his mind.

“Baby, no. Not right now, if you still want it when you’re more clear headed we can talk about it, okay?” It was taking everything in him not to do what you were asking, he was fighting against every single instinct in his body.

“Eddie, I don't think I’ve ever thought more clearly about anything in my entire life, please? I want to be yours.” You mean it. You’ve thought about it before now, laid in bed at night as you listen to him strum his guitar. You’ve thought about more than just fucking him, you’ve fantasized about a life with him. Even if you barely knew him, you knew you wanted him.

His thrusts falter at that, he doesn’t know how long he can resist your begging. Especially when you’re begging for this. He doesn’t respond, just starts fucking you harder. His thumb finds your clit and he starts to circle it in time with his thrusts. His lips latch onto your neck and suck, if he can’t give you what you truly want right now, he hopes you’ll at least take this temporary mark. “Please alpha? Please just do it? I want it so bad, want your mark. Want your knot.”

“I know sugar, I know.” He mumbles against your neck before latching back onto it, continuing to suck bruising marks into your skin. “Why don’t you cum for me? Cum for your alpha.”

He angles his hips so the head of his cock is brushing against your sweet spot, picking up the speed of the circles on your clit. He runs his teeth along your throat, not quite biting down but nipping at it. It’s all so good, and it sends you hurtling into another mind altering orgasm.

“Oh fuck! Ohmyfuckinggod, Eddie! I’m cumming!” You wrap your legs around his waist, more slick gushes from you and your nails are digging so deep into his back he’s sure you’re starting to draw blood. He hopes you leave him some little marks of his own. He wouldn’t mind, if you bit down on his neck too. He knows it’s taboo for omegas to mark alphas but he wants to be connected to you, owned by you, in every way possible.

“That’s a good girl, good fucking girl, sweetheart. You’re so beautiful when you cum on my cock.” His hands grasp onto your hips and he leans up onto his knees as he continues to fuck into you. Your hands clutch onto his forearms and your tits bounce deliciously with every thrust.

“Want you to fill me up, alpha. Fill me with your cum, put a pup inside me.” You’re cock drunk off your ass, your eyes rolled back and brimmed with tears, drool dripping from your mouth and your words are slurred as you babble things you’d never dream of saying in a normal state of mind. But Eddie hears you loud and clear, and he knows you probably don’t really mean that. But hearing it? It makes him feral.

“Yeah? You want me to fuck a baby into you, is that it? Want me to mark you and knot you and plug you full of my cum?”

“Yes! Fuck! Please fill me up, let me give you a baby, alpha!!” Eddie lets out an animalistic growl, a few more harsh thrusts and he’s spilling inside you. He shoves his hips flush against yours as ropes of his cum paint your walls.

“Oh fuuuuckkk, oh my god, shit.” Your pussy squeezes him like a vice grip, the feeling of him filling you up sending you over the edge with him. You milk him for all he’s worth, the head of his cock starts to flare and you whimper when his knot pops inside of you. “Jesus Christ.”

You both pant as he grabs onto your thighs so he can flip over with you on top of him. You lay your head on his chest and nuzzle into it, feeling safe and warm, and for the moment satisfied. You’re both quiet for a while, catching your breath and coming down from your highs.

“Eddie I-“

“Hey.” He shushes you, comfortingly running his hand down your back. “It’s okay, don’t stress, alright sugar? We can talk about all of this once you’re more clear headed. Let’s just relax for now.”

“Will you… stay?” Your voice is small, but hopeful.

“I don’t think I’m going anywhere darlin’, we are kind of connected right now.” He chuckles and it makes you laugh. “Even longer if you keep laughing like that, clenching around me and shit.”

“Sorry.” You giggle. “Will you stay… till it’s over?” You really hope he knows what you mean, because you already feel awkward enough asking as it is.

“You want me to stay with you through your heat?” His heart rate picks up, and the alpha in him sings with pride. He really hopes that’s what’s you’re asking.

“Yeah, only if you want, no pressure or anything I-“

“Baby, I’d be honored.” His hand cups your face, tilting it towards him so he can look you in the eyes. He smiles at you sweetly, his mate. He places a gentle kiss on your lips, which you return with glee. “I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.”

Would it be crazy if you said you wanted him to stay forever? Probably. Maybe not, since you were just begging him to mark you and knock you up a few minutes ago. You decide against it though, laying your head back on his chest. You shove your nose into his scent gland, inhaling him. You’ve never felt this safe with an alpha, or anyone who wasn’t your family, really. You could get used to this. You only hoped he would still want to be around you when your heat was over.

⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️

Eddie kept true to his word, staying with you through your heat for a full week. He only left once, on the second day to go to the store for some groceries and to get things from his apartment for himself. It was a good thing he did because later that night he went into his rut and it just made the entire experience more intimate and feral. He fucked you more times and in more ways than you could count. But you didn’t just have sex, you also spent a lot of time talking, and getting to know each other.

He told you about his time growing up here, and how it wasn’t the best for him. You found out that he’s a tattoo artist, and he rides and works on motorcycles. He used to be in a band when he was younger, they still jam together sometimes but they don’t play bar shows anymore. He’s never had an omega before, not even an unofficial mate, and he explained to you that it’s because he’s never felt connected to anyone until he met you. You told him it was about the same for you. When you first presented your boyfriend at the time was an alpha and he smelled awful to you the minute his pheromones hit your nose, so you ended up breaking it off.

The morning you both woke up feeling like yourselves again you were both a bit timid. You still had another day off but he had clients today. He left to get ready for work, departing with a kiss and a promise to talk later tonight. You were hopeful. For the first time in a very long time, or maybe ever, you felt truly connected to someone.

Since you had the day off you decided you’d go visit your dad at work, you haven’t seen him since you took him those chocolate cupcakes last week and you figured you’d surprise him. He was the reason you moved here after all. He helped you open the bakery. You and him have always been close, your mom wasn’t really around when you were growing up so it was just you and him. He lived in Hawkins but he owned a tattoo shop in the next town over, only about a thirty five minute drive if there wasn’t traffic.

You went for a more simple look today, flare leggings and a cropped zip up with your doc martens. Perfect for the mid September Indiana weather. The drive went smoothly, you’ve been to your dads shop a few times, years ago when you were in your early 20s. But you haven’t seen it in a long time, usually when you visit him you just go to his house.

You push open the art covered door to the shop, the bell on the handle hits against the glass on the door and Tami, your dads wife, greets you with a surprised smile from behind the front desk.

“Well look what the cat dragged in, to what do we owe the pleasure, little lady?” You’ve always liked Tami, she and your dad got married when you were nineteen, after you had already moved out. But she was like the cool cigarette mom you never had growing up. She was probably Eddie’s age or a little younger, your dad was in his mid fifties. But she was beautiful, she looked like she stepped right out of an 80s rock music video. With her teased blonde hair and blue eyeshadow, her body adorned with almost as many tats as your dads.

“I had the day off, just figured I’d come say hey.” Your smile falters for a moment when you catch a strong whiff of Eddie’s scent, you didn’t think it would still be so strong after you showered. You knew your dad was going to ask questions, especially with the crime scene you had on your neck that you didn’t bother to cover up. You weren’t ashamed of them, you wanted people to know you were taken.

“Hey Tami do you have the reference photo for my five o'clock? I need to start drawing it up.” Your eyes shot in the direction of his voice, your heart rate immediately picking up. Okay so, you had definitely caught his scent, and it wasn’t on you. Why was he here? Oh god. He works for your fucking dad? Shit. Why didn’t you think of that? The motorcycles, tattoos, it all makes sense now. Your dad has told you about Eddie, you just didn’t think it was going to be this Eddie.

He smells you before he sees you, for a second he thought it was just your scent lingering on him like it has been for weeks now but then he saw you. He wasn’t mad you were here, just surprised. He was about to ask you how you knew where he worked when your dad came bounding out the back.

“Honey! What’re you doing here? Did you bring sweets?” Eddie has never seen your dad smile like that at anyone besides Tami, was he cheating on Tami? Did they have a side piece he didn’t know about?

“Hey dad, yeah I uh - I brought you some cookies!” Dad!? Holy fuck. That’s when your name goes off like an alarm in Eddie’s head, he didn’t think to make that connection until now. He’s seen pictures of you as a kid, and even a few of you as a teenager but you looked so different now he never would’ve recognized you from those. You were Dale’s fucking daughter? Jesus Christ. He was so fucking fucked.

“You’re too good to me, the best daughter ever, I swear.” Your dad walks over to you and engulfs you in a hug, taking the container filled with cookies from your hands when he pulls away. “Although, what’s going on with this crime scene on your neck? You have a little boyfriend here already?”

“Ha! Thanks dad, you’re the best too. Its uh - there’s not really a label on it yet or anything, if there’s anything to tell, I’ll let you know.” You smile at him, clearing your throat. You avoid making eye contact with Eddie, knowing you’ll probably lose your cool if you do. Especially when your dad is talking about what he did to your neck. You’re trying really hard to keep calm but you’re practically screaming on the inside. Eddie worked for your dad, and had for almost a decade now. He’s told you about Eddie, they’re close friends, and your dad was his tattoo mentor. He probably wouldn’t want to see you now. You felt like your heart was breaking already. You were definitely going to have to find a new apartment.

“Angel, this is Eddie, Eddie this is my daughter.” Your dad says your name so proudly it makes you internally cringe. You fucked his friend. Not just fucked, you spent your heat and his rut with him. You asked him to mark you, he knotted you, and if you were being honest? You hadn’t been clear headed enough to think about it until today but you weren’t on birth control.

“We know each other actually!” Eddie’s eyes look like they’re going to burst out of his head, and he coughs, choking on his spit. “He’s my neighbor! You’d know that if you came to see my place already, dad.” You roll your eyes at him playfully, trying to start up your usual banter, hoping you’re pulling it off.

“Oh, yeah! She moved into Chris’ old place, she baked for me and I helped her with her shower. You raised a good one, Dale.” Eddie smiles at his old friend, his heart feeling like it was going to fall out of his ass. He knew how protective your dad was of you, he remembers how he used to talk shit about your old beta boyfriend. Not only that but Dale was one of the big alphas in the area, if he casted Eddie out, everyone would.

“Aww! Good man Ed, thanks for helping my girl out. And you! How’s the bakery? Things good?” Your dad takes a large bite of one of the cookies, his other hand lovingly shaking your shoulder.

“It’s good, yeah, things are good. You were right about putting it close to the highschool, tons of kids come in on their lunches and even some teachers too. I’m working on perfecting this new pie recipe right now, I’ll have to bring you a few different slices to try out.”

“Well duh, I’m always right, and I swear you’re trying to fatten me up.” Your dad laughs his signature laugh, it’s deep, bellowy, and contagious. You loved him so much. But that didn’t change how you felt about Eddie, if he still wanted to see you, you wouldn’t turn him down.

You made small talk with your dad and Tami for a bit longer, Eddie had excused himself to the back and it honestly made you want to cry right then and there. You wish your dad and step mom a goodbye without seeing him again and walk out of the shop with a heavy heart. You drive home on autopilot, your thoughts racing a mile a minute.

When you get home you flop yourself down on the couch in defeat. You would finally meet a guy and he’d end up being one of your dads oldest friends. Would he ever even talk to you again? He probably regretted the entire thing. But if you could go back in time, you’d do it all again.

A few minutes into your wallowing your phone goes off and when Eddie’s name pops up on that tiny front screen you feel like you’re going to pass out.

“I’ll come see you after work so we can talk, hope you’re okay.”

You let out a deep breath, at least he was talking to you, right? That text he sent you this morning about already missing you sitting above the new one was like a slap in the face in comparison. Hours ago he was texting you “Miss you already, can’t wait to see you tonight, sugar. Have a good day ;)” and now it seemed like he was about to tell you he couldn’t see you anymore. You had around three hours until Eddie would be home from work, and you have no idea what to do with yourself. You wanted to crawl in a hole and disappear if you were being honest. So you did the next best thing, you took a nap.

The sound of banging on your door had you shooting straight up in bed. When you look around it’s already dark out and when you gaze at the clock on your nightstand you realize it’s already past six thirty. Had you napped that long?

“Sweetheart, I know you’re home, I saw your car outside. Can we please just talk?” Shit. You throw your covers off and dash out of your room to the front door. You open it to reveal a very distressed looking Eddie and it cracks your heart a little.

“Hi Eddie…”

“Hey, can we talk?” The look on his face is hard to read, you can’t gauge how he’s feeling at all and it only peaks your anxiety.

“Yeah, sure.” You step aside to let him in and take a seat on the far end of the couch. You try not to take it personally when he sits all the way across from you but it stings just a little.

“So uh - your dad is… my boss.” Eddie clears his throat awkwardly while his knee bounces up and down. His eyes search your face and he can tell you’re upset. Not just by that but from your scent too. He can smell how anxious you are and he hates that he’s the cause of it.

“Ha! That’s putting it lightly, Eddie…” You laugh dryly.

“Yeah, so, he’s one of my closest friends, the alpha of my pack, annnnd I kind of owe him everything for giving me a chance at the shop.” Eddie sighs, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

“Yeah I know, I knew he had a friend named Eddie, I just didn’t know it would be you. So I get it, if you don’t want to see me anymore. It’s not like we are actually anything to each other anyways, just because you spent my heat with me doesn’t mean you owe me anything. I can find a new apartment and I won’t come into the shop anymore it’ll be fine I can-“

“That’s the problem though, I can’t stay away from you, sweetheart.” He looks you straight in the eye as he says it, and his voice sounds so sure.

“What do you mean? Eddie, you hardly know me, it’s really okay, I wouldn’t want you to risk everything for me.” You sigh, your head falling between your shoulders. “If my dad knew, he would lose it. I know that, and you know that. I don’t want you to lose your job, or be an outcast.”

“Yeah, well I don’t want those things either. But, that doesn’t change the fact that I can’t stay away from you. Darlin’, do you know what soul bounds are?”

“Oh.” He watches your eyes widen and your jaw drop open in realization.

“Yeah, I think we uh - I think we might have one. So when I say I can’t stay away from you, I mean it’ll fucking kill me to.” The look on Eddie’s face has you on the brink of tears, you want to throw yourself into his arms and rub your face all along his scent gland to comfort him.

“Yeah, that makes a lot of sense, actually. It kind of feels like my whole entire life since I presented makes sense, now that I think about it.” You let out a breath you feel like you’ve been holding for years. You never thought you’d find a mate, but here he was, made just for you. “Well, my dad can’t really do shit then. He can’t keep us apart, and if he tries to do anything to you I’ll tell him that I’m going with you wherever you go.”

“Sweetheart.” He takes your hands in his and a feeling of relief instantly washes over you. “I can’t ask you to do that… I know how close you and your dad are from the way he talks about you.”

“Okay, well you didn’t ask me to, I want to. I never thought I’d find a mate, I genuinely thought there was something wrong with me because of my scent. But now, I find you? My soulmate? I can’t lose you Eddie.” You squeeze his hands and run your thumbs over the backs of them reassuringly.

“I feel the same, I spent my whole life being an outcast, and then when I presented as an alpha I thought maybe I’d finally get some form of respect. But instead every single person that was supposed to be biologically attracted to me told me there was something ‘off’ about my scent. Not that they necessarily smelled good to me either, but it was still a blow to my ego. But then you show up? This sweet little thing bringing me a pie in her tiny little dress? You’ve made me feel more wanted in a few weeks than I have my entire life.”

Your heart feels like it’s going to burst at his speech, you can’t believe hours ago you thought you were disposable to him. You grab his face in your hands, kissing him with fever. He groans into your mouth, his hands finding your hips as he returns your kiss with equal enthusiasm. He pulls you into his lap and you kiss each other until you both feel like your lungs are going to burst and you have to pull away for air.

“Can we maybe wait a bit, to tell my dad? I just want to enjoy this for a bit, before shit hits the fan.” You rest your forehead against his, your hands still holding his face tenderly.

“Absolutely, I think I’d like to live a little longer.” Eddie chuckles and you laugh along with him.

“Shut up! I’m not going to let him kill you, I swear. I’ll be like, your knight in shining armor.”

“Oh yeah? Sugars going spicy on me? Is that it?” He nuzzles his nose against yours before dragging it down your cheek, jaw, and then down your scent gland. He inhales before placing a gentle kiss there.

“Oh, you have noooo idea.” He tickles your sides and you laugh, wiggling around in his lap.

“Hmm, I think I wanna find out, you wanna show me this spicy side?” He kisses your neck again, gently nipping at it.

“Absolutely. Think you can take the heat?” You lean back and wiggle your eyebrows at him.

“Ooohh you’re in for it now!!” He laughs, tackling you down on the couch. Sending you both into a fit of giggles.

He climbs on top of you, his arms bracketing either side of your head, his hair like a halo around his head with the way your lamp light was glowing behind him.

“You’re so beautiful Eddie.” You smile up at him sweetly, he doesn’t think he will ever get tired of hearing you say that.

“Yeah? You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, sugar.” He sends you a wink that has butterflies fluttering in your belly. The flutters quickly turn into an eruption when he connects his lips with yours. He slips his tongue into your mouth, and you moan at the taste of him. The kisses turn heated when you roll your hips up against his, a low groan rumbling through him.

“I want you, Eddie.” You mumble against his mouth, your tongue darting out to lick across his plump, kiss swollen bottom lip.

“I’m all yours, sweetheart.” He places another hungry kiss on your lips before littering open mouth kisses along your jaw and throat. He laves his tongue out along your collar bones, kissing down your chest. He mouths at your nipples through the thin material of your tank top, swirling his tongue around them until they are both peaked. He grabs the hem of your shirt and you lift your arms so he can pull it over your head. “Perfect tits. Perfect body. Perfect little omega.”

“Mmm, just for you, alpha, all for you.” Your hands greedily pull at the hem of his faded band tee and he obliges you, using one hand to pull it over his head. “Wanna taste you, alpha, can I?”

“If you keep looking at me like that? Sugar, I’ll give you anything you want.” He runs his thumb along your bottom lip and you take the digit into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it.

You look up at him with big round eyes as you moan at the taste of him. He stands in front of the couch and you push yourself up onto your knees, perfectly eye level with the very prominent bulge in his pants. You make quick work of his belt, undoing his pants so you can push them down over his hips with his boxers. His cock springs free, a bead of pearly white precum drips from his slit and you can’t resist leaning forward to lick it off.

“Fuck, you taste so good, baby.” Baby. Chills run through his entire body. You’ve never called him that before, and it was doing things to him he didn’t think were possible.

You suck his tip, swirling your tongue around it like you did with his thumb. You take him all the way in your mouth, gagging when he hits the back of your throat. Drool fills your mouth and you pull off to him to spit into your palm without breaking eye contact with him. You bring your hand to his shaft, jerking him off with your lubed up palm a few times before taking half of him in your mouth again. Your mouth works in tandem with your hand at the base of his cock, your tongue caressing that thick vein that runs along the bottom of his shaft.

“Oh fuuuuck.” Eddie throws his head back, his thick neck adorned with veins, his Adam’s Apple bobs as he groans at the feeling of you swallowing him down. “That’s so good, your mouth is so good.”

His fingers thread through your hair and he looks back down at you. He has to close his eyes again seconds later to keep himself from exploding down your throat right then and there. Your eyes were rimmed with tears, your mascara that was already smudged from your nap running down your cheeks, drool was dripping down the sides of your mouth and the way you were looking at him like he hung the stars with his dick down your throat made him insane. You move your hand so you can take him all the way in your mouth again. Your throat flexes around him when you gag and he has to use his grip on your hair to pull you off. You whine, trying to take him back into your mouth.

“Baby girl, I’m sorry, but you gotta stop or I’m going to fucking lose it, and I really want to fill you with my cum and just keep fucking you until your body is limp.” He grabs your chin in his hand, his thumb spreading the drool on your mouth all around your lips. “Turn around, all fours.”

You position yourself on your hands and knees on top of the couch cushions, arching your back and wiggling your ass in the air. Eddie groans at the sight, walking up behind you, he hooks his fingers in the band of your tiny sleep shorts, pulling them down with your panties where they pool at the bottom of your bent knees. His hands roughly grab onto your ass cheeks, spreading them so he can see your messy cunt. You clench around nothing and a little yelp escapes you when you feel his spit drip down onto your already wet cunt.

“Fuuuuck Eddie, please, touch me.”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’m always going to give you what you want, sweet thing.” He runs his fingers through your slit, gathering your wetness and rubbing it around. He circles your clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure. Two fingers circle your entrance and push inside you. He curves them just right, rubbing them against that sweet spot inside you before he starts to thrust them in and out of you.

“Oh shit! Yes, yes, yes, Eddie, fuck.” His thumb finds your clit while he continues to fuck his fingers into you and you’re already embarrassingly close to cumming.

“You gonna cum already, baby? I can feel your pussy sucking my fingers in.” He curves his fingers against your g-spot again and it’s the final straw. A feral moan rips through you and your pussy spasms around his fingers. “Oh that’s it, good girl, cum for me, cum for your alpha.”

Eddie pulls his fingers from inside you, bringing them to his mouth, moaning at your sweet taste. You hear him kicking off his jeans the rest of the way before the couch dips behind you. He positions himself on his knees, taking his cock in his hand. He runs it through your wet lips, the tip of it bumping against your clit with each stroke.

“Baby, don’t tease me.” You whine, pushing your hips back against him. “Need your cock.”

He lines himself up with your entrance and pushes inside with one thrust. You’re so wet the stretch barely burns, almost immediately turning into immense pleasure. He doesn’t waste any time starting up at a brutal pace. His hips slap against your ass, his balls bumping your clit whenever he thrusts at a certain angle.

“Fuck, this pussy really was fucking made for me. She’s sucking me in like a vice grip.” His hand pushes down on your lower back and you take the hint, resting your cheek on the couch cushion so your back is arched further, your ass as far in the air as it can go. This new angle has him hitting deeper than before, his hand snakes around your front to rub your clit and it sends you over the edge again.

“Oh god - oh fuck, Eddie!!!” Your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, you push your hips back against him, fucking him deeper into you as you ride out your high.

He wraps his forearm around the front of your shoulders, using his grip to pull your back flush against his chest. He’s deeper than ever before, practically abusing your g-spot in the best way. The slight pressure on your throat from the way his arm is pinning you to his body is delicious, and when his fingers resume their ministrations on your clit it already has you close to the edge again. His mouth latches onto your scent gland, sucking a bruise into it.

“Mark me alpha, please please, I want to be yours. Please do it, I want it so bad.” Your hands reach behind you, lacing your fingers in his curls. You arch your back so you can bare your neck to him. Eddie thinks about telling you no again, he considers telling you he’d like to wait until you tell your dad.

But the primal part of him quickly erases those thoughts. He wants to please you, in every way possible. He wants to claim you. He doesn’t want to tell you no. So he doesn’t. He runs his nose along your scent gland, inhaling your otherworldly scent. He runs his teeth along the juncture of your throat before sinking them into your soft flesh.

The feeling sends you both over the edge. His teeth are still clamped down on your neck. Your cunt is squeezing him tight while ropes of his cum spill inside you. Everything felt so right, and it wasn’t just the fact that it was the best orgasm of your life. Your entire body felt warm, your heart felt full, you felt so connected to Eddie. It was everything. His knot swells inside you, popping out to connect you in every way possible. He pulls away from your neck, soothing the bloody teeth marks with his warm tongue.

“Wow.” He breaths out, carefully leaning back towards the arm of the couch and pulling you with him. He circles his arms around you, caging you in his embrace.

“Yeah, wow is right.” You chuckle, nuzzling deeper into his chest.

“You’re amazing, you know that? I’m a lucky son of a bitch.” He runs his hands through your hair, down your chest, his fingers stop to trace the bloodied mark on your throat. “Are you okay with everything?”

“I’m fantastic. I’ve never been happier than I am at this moment, Eddie Munson. If you’re lucky, I’m lucky as hell. I’m glad it’s you, I’m glad you’re my mate.” You tilt your head to the side so you can look up at him.

“Me too, Sugar, me too.” He looks down at your adoringly, taking your face in his hand and leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️⛓️

You’ve been seeing Eddie in mostly secret for the last few months. You told your best friend back home over the phone and he told his friends Steve and Robin. Things were fantastic, for the most part. He’s taken you on a few dates, either out of town or somewhere people wouldn’t see you. He made you happier than you’ve ever been in your entire life but sneaking around was getting old fast.

Eddie was for lack of better words, paranoid. You’ve spent every night together since he mated you. Either at his place or at your own. But every morning after he showered for work he would put clothes on directly from the dryer, then immediately douse himself with cologne. He always kisses you before his shower because he refuses to come within three feet of you afterwards. He was absolutely terrified of showing up to your dad’s shop for work smelling like his daughter that he was seeing in secret. After a few weeks of that you both decided it was easier if you went your separate ways when you woke up and did your morning routines on your own. Which you hated, you loved the domesticity of waking up and going about your morning with him.

You also hadn’t seen your dad since the day Eddie mated you, always making up excuses when he invited you for dinner or asked to come see your place finally. You lucked out on your day off when he decided to come into the bakery for a surprise visit. You hated it, if you were being honest. You’ve never hid anything from him, especially not something this big. He was a pretty laid back parent when you were growing up, so you never really felt the need to lie to him.

It was Sunday evening, you and Eddie both had the day off so he took you out on his bike. He drove a few towns over to take you to this vintage book store he thought you’d like, he showed you the oldest cemetery in Indiana, which you adored, and then he took you out to lunch.

When you got back to his apartment you wanted to show him how grateful you really were for how thoughtful the dates he took you on always were. You rode him till he came and his knot was buried deep inside you, then you just kept riding him until he came again. You both dozed off cozy in each other's arms not long after that.

You wake up before Eddie, feeling sick to your stomach. You climb out of bed, carefully untangling yourself from him so you don’t wake him up and throw on one of his shirts and your panties from earlier so you can go into the kitchen for a glass of water. You chug it greedily, trying to will the nausea away. You might have one other, not so little secret. Last week you were at the bakery running numbers and planning for the weeks ahead when the calendar on the wall caught your eye. You started doing some math in your head and immediately told your employee Brooke that you needed to run to the store. You bought three different pregnancy tests and every single one screamed back at you with two lines, pregnant, or a little pink plus sign.

You hadn’t told Eddie yet, and you were surprised he hadn’t realized it since omegas scents usually change when they’re pregnant. Either he hadn’t noticed, or he was waiting for you to tell him on your own terms. If he hadn’t though? It was only a matter of time before he did. You had no idea how he would react, sure things were said in the heat of the moment during sex but you and him have never actually talked about having kids. That, and he was already afraid to tell your dad that you were mates, now you were going to have to tell him you were knocked up with his best friend’s kid too. Despite all that, you want this baby, you want a life and a family with Eddie. He would be a good dad, kind, goofy, attentive. Would your baby have his eyes? His hair? The sound of a knock on the door rips you from your daydreams.

Who the hell was here? You weren’t expecting anyone. Should you wake Eddie? It’s his door, after all.

“Hey Ed, you home? Wanted to talk to you about something!” The sound of your dads voice makes your blood run cold. Shit. You dash down the hall towards Eddie’s room where he’s stumbling out of the doorway while slipping on gray sweatpants. He already has a tee shirt on and his eyes meet yours in a panic.

“It’s my fucking dad, does he fucking know?” You whisper-yell at him. Eddie shrugs at you with panicked eyes.

“Go in the room, in case it’s about something else, maybe I can get him to leave.” He grabs your shoulders, directing you towards the room. You go inside, shutting the door behind you. You feel like a fucking teenager sneaking around with her boyfriend instead of a grown ass woman with her mate, and you hated it. You almost want to just go open the door yourself and get it over with.

Eddie knows damn well that if your dad is here for a different reason, it won’t make a difference. His place definitely smells like you, there’s absolutely no way it doesn’t. He takes a deep breath before pulling the door open.

“Hey Dale, what’s up man?” Eddie feels like he’s going to shit his pants, your dad is taller than him by a few inches but bigger than him in mass by a lot. He could absolutely kick his ass if he wanted to. He also really didn’t want to disappoint him. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t tired of sneaking around.

“Hey brother, you got a minute to talk? I wanted to run something by you.” Oh fuck, does he fucking know? Is he playing it cool and any second he’s going to choke Eddie to death?

“Yeah, sure man. What’s up?”

“You gonna let me in?” The older man chuckles, raising an eyebrow at his younger mentee.

“Oh! Uh, yeah, come in.” Eddie steps aside to let him in and he feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest. This was it, this is where he dies.

“Whoa! It fucking reeks in here, you got an omega you’re keeping a secret, Ed?” You hear your dad chuckle through the door and internally cringe.

“Uh - I mean - “

“Hold on…” Your dad audibly sniffs the air and Eddie watches his expression harden, his eyebrows furrow and the look in his eyes is the one Eddie has been terrified of. He looks like he wants to kill him. “Eddie… What the fuck is going on here man? Why the hell does your apartment reek like my daughter?”

You take that as your queue to enter, pulling Eddie’s door open and walking out to face the music.

“Hey dad…” You wave awkwardly, trying to use your other hand to make the shirt you’re wearing longer, suddenly very aware of your lack of pants.

Your dad takes in your appearance. Your disheveled hair, Eddie’s shirt, the mark on your neck. His nostrils flare and a growl rips through him. He darts at Eddie, grabbing him by the collar of his tee shirt and shoving him against the nearest wall. A stack of empty mixing bowls knock off the counter in the commotion and your dad shoves his forearm against Eddie’s throat.

“I can’t fucking believe you!! After all I’ve done for you!?” His voice drops to an authoritative alpha tone and growls continue to rumble in his chest. You’ve never seen your dad this pissed before.

“Dale, I’m sorry, I - I didn’t mean for this to happen! It’s not what you’re thinking if you just let me explain-“

“EXPLAIN!? Explain how you mated my only child!? I don’t think there’s much to explain here, Ed! It’s pretty fucking clear what happened here!!!” Your dad bellows, shoving his arm tighter against Eddie’s throat, causing him to gasp.

“Dad!!! Fucking stop!!!” You run over and grab onto your dads forearm to try and rip it off of Eddie. To no avail, he was strong as hell. “It’s not his fault! We couldn’t help it! He’s my mate! We have a bond! You can’t hurt him without hurting me! He’s mine! Get the fuck off of him!!”

“A bond? What? Like a trauma bond? Because this situation is fucked.” Your dad turns his head to look at you, his lips set to a snarl, his arm still locking Eddie in place.

“No, a soul bound, dumb ass! He’s my mate, my fated mate! Get the fuck off of him!!!” A growl of your own rumbles through your chest, your hands trying and failing yet again to pull your dad from your alpha.

“That doesn’t change the fact that he should’ve come to me like a man and told me the minute he found out! You’re a fucking coward and you don’t deserve someone like my daughter!” He was clearly irrational, his scent nearly suffocating you with how thickly it was permeating the air.

“IM PREGNANT!!!” Two pairs of wide eyes snap toward you, Eddie’s mouth is dropped open in shock, your dad looks like he’s going to puke.

“YOU’RE WHAT!?” Your dad shouts, his grip on Eddie subconsciously loosens and he takes the opportunity to slip free from his grasp. He rushes to your side, taking your face in his hands.

“Are you really? Why didn’t you tell me? Are you okay?”

“I was going to, I was just - I was nervous about how you’d react.” You avert your gaze from his, afraid to look him in the eyes when you hear his response.

“Hey.” His hands thumbs run across the apples of your cheeks and he lowers his face so you're forced to make eye contact with him. “If you ever thought I’d be anything less than stoked to have a baby with you, you’re crazy.”

“Really?” Your eyes well with tears and your bottom lip trembles. As your dad watches this entire exchange his face starts to soften. He looks between you and Eddie, taking in the way you look at each other and your body language. He also doesn’t miss the way that the panic in your scent is now nonexistent.

“Of course, Sugar. I want everything with you, I love you.”

“I - I love you too, Eddie.” The tears that were threatening to escape before are now cascading down your cheeks. He uses his thumbs to wipe them away, placing a gentle kiss on your nose.

“Dale.” Eddie turns towards your dad, putting his arm around your shoulders. “I love your daughter, and I know it’s not ideal, but she’s my mate, my fated mate, and the mother of my child. You can fire me, cast me out, do your absolute worst. But I won’t leave their side unless I’m dead and gone.”

“If you cast Eddie out, I’m going with him.” You nuzzle into your alphas side, putting your hand on his chest.

“Hold on now, nobody’s casting anybody out, or firing anybody. I’m sorry for ya know, kinda choking you out there, Ed. This was just… a shock.”

“I know dad.” You step away from Eddie to rest a hand on your dads shoulder. “And I’m sorry we didn’t tell you right away, but that was on me, not Eddie. I told him I wanted to wait to tell you, and it’s not like we planned this. We didn’t even realize you knew each other until that day I came into the shop.”

“He still should’ve told me, or you should’ve. I know I’m protective of you but if you told me all of this, yeah I would’ve been mad, but I would’ve heard you out. It’s not so bad, now that I think about it. You guys make a lot of sense actually.” Your dads hand comes to rest on top of yours on his shoulder. “I always wanted you to find a good man, and I know Eddie is a good man. I know he will take care of you. Plus, I’ve never seen him like this, I’m uh - I’m happy for you guys.”

“And notttt to call you out or anything dad, but Tami is like 12 years younger than you and you met her when she was in her 20s, just saying.” You roll your eyes and playfully squeeze his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah, alright. I get it, I reacted poorly. So… I’m gonna be a pop pop?” Your dads now tear brimmed eyes search yours.

“Yeah dad, you’re gonna be a pop pop.” Tears flow from your eyes and he pulls you into one of his signature bear hugs. You sob into his chest, finally feeling whole again. You really missed him. “I hated lying to you, I’m sorry.”

“Hey honey, what’s done is done, we’re okay now, alright?” He rubs your back lovingly, pushing you back so he can look at your face. “I’m happy for you. Come here, Ed, get your dumb ass over here.”

Eddie chuckles, wiping a tear from underneath his eye, your dad pulls him into a hug, that he happily returns.

“You gonna take good care of my girl?” Your dad pulls back, one hand gripping Eddie’s shoulder, the other pointed at his chest. A joking glare set on his features.

“Yeah Dale, I’m gonna do everything I can for the rest of my life to make sure that woman, and our child are safe and happy.” That only makes you cry more, which has Eddie rushing to your side to take him into his arms.

“Okay, I came here to talk to you about some work shit but that can wait, I’ll leave you two to talk and celebrate amongst yourselves.” Your dad walks over to you, placing a kiss on your forehead. “I’m proud of you, pumpkin, in everything you do. Don’t be a stranger, alright?”

“Yeah dad, of course not, never. You’re going to be the best pop pop, you know that?”

“Alright, alright, stop making me cry. I love you.” He ruffles your hair, turning to Eddie. “Have a good night, Ed. I’ll see ya at work tomorrow, congratulations.”

“Thanks, man. I’ll see you tomorrow.” As soon as your dad shuts the door behind him Eddie is taking you in his arms, spinning you around.

“Whoa, Eddie, motion sickness.” You giggle and he sets you gently back down on your feet.

“We’re really having a baby?” His chocolate eyes shine as his hands come to rest on your abdomen, staring at it adoringly.

“Yeah, we’re really having a baby.” The tears that you can’t seem to get to stop stream down your cheeks and you rest your hands on top of his.

“There’s no one in the world I’d rather start a family with, I love you, sugar.” Eddie rests his forehead against yours, nuzzling your noses together.

“Me either, I love you so much, baby.” One of Eddie’s hands laces through your hair while the other cups your neck, his thumb caressing the mark he left there all those weeks ago. He connects his lips with yours and everything in the world just feels right.

Taglist: @eddiesxangel @corkadymu @ali-r3n @nailbatanddungeon @emxxblog @reysorigins @rogerfxckingtaylor @hellv1ra @munson-mjstan @harrydesires @tlclick73 @your-nightmaredoll @gnrquinn @hellfire--cult @meadowdovewood @katethetank @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @ghostducky @nega-omega @ericasdumbworld @peaches-roses-sins (if you asked to be tagged and you arent it wouldn’t let me tag you for some reason)🖤

[theyluvkarolina]

౨ৎ PLAYING FAVORITES ౨ৎ

masterlist / rules / requests & talks with me!

SUMMARY౨ৎ Oscar’s daughter has favorites. And sadly, he isn’t one of hers, in fact her favorite happens to be her favorite American, Logan. He says it’s fine and that he doesn’t care… but actions speak louder than words.

PAIRING ౨ৎ Not really a pairing, but reader makes multiple apperances 🩵

WARNINGS ౨ৎ Sadie being a menace

A/N ౨ৎ got requested more sadie, the more sadie you shall receive. i was writing this before the logan news and i’m absolutely distraught. i decided to start from the group up and include logan to feel a bit better hurt ❤️‍🩹

Part of the Dad Oscar mini-series 🩵

“Sadie, are you ready to see Dad drive fast?” You asked, adjusting her little McLaren cap as I held her hand to the garage.

“No.” Sadie says bluntly in her toddler way, her lips forming a small pout as she clutched the tiny stuffed koala Oscar had bought her from her a year ago from Australia.

You couldn’t help but blink at her straightforwardness, crouching down to be at eye level with her. “No? Not even to cheer him on?”

Sadie shook her head with determination. “No. Wanna see Logan.”

Sadie’s pout deepened, and she hugged her koala closer to her chest. “Logan’s funny.”

“Yes, he is. But you know who else is funny? Daddy. Remember when he made silly faces during breakfast?” You suggested.

Sadie tilted her head, considering this for a moment, before shaking her head again. “Logan’s funnier.”

Before you could respond, you heard footsteps approaching, and there was Oscar, already in his race suit, with a forced grin on his face, clearly overheard the conversation. “Hey, little miss,” he greeted giving a kiss on your cheek before crouching down beside you and holding out his arms for a hug.

Sadie looked at him for a moment, then back at you, before finally deciding to toddle over and give him a quick hug. It was short, sweet, but not as enthusiastic as the ones she usually reserved for Logan recently.

Oscar’s smile faltered for just a second, but he quickly recovered, lifting her up in his arms. “Guess I’ll have to up my game if I want to be the favorite, huh?” he teased, though there was a trace of something more behind his words.

“Daddy’s funny,” Sadie said, almost as if she was trying to console him.

“Yeah?” Oscar’s eyes lit up with hope, but Sadie quickly added, “But Logan’s funnier.”

You winced, but Oscar just laughed it off, giving her a playful tickle. “Well, Logan better watch out then, because I’m coming for his title.”

This was going to be a long day for Oscar.

`· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑

The buzz of the McLaren garage was background noise to Oscar as he watched his Sadie, toddle around with a bright smile on her face. It was a year after her first ever Grand Prix… and safe to say you and Oscar have definitely learned a lot from it. Normally, her little smile would make his heart swell with pride, but today, it was bittersweet. The reason? Logan Sargeant was the source of her joy, not him.

Logan, Logan, Logan. that was the name coming out of her mouth the past month.

Sadie had been enamored with Logan since the first time she was born. Who wouldn’t when their godfather was her dad’s best friend who happened to have the same job?

She would light up at the sight of him, smiling at every chance she could excitedly in her toddler way, always eager to be scooped up into his arms. And Logan, the ever-charming American, was more than happy to oblige.

Oscar leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching as Logan lifted Sadie into the air, eliciting giggles that echoed around the garage. He tried to convince himself that it didn’t bother him. So what if Sadie liked Logan more? It wasn’t a competition. He was her father, not Logan. Surely she likes him more.

…

Right?

“Hey, mate. You good?” Lando’s voice snapped Oscar out of his thoughts. His teammate had appeared beside him, eyebrow raised in concern.

Oscar forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… thinking.”

Lando followed his gaze to where Logan was now letting Sadie play with his cap, much to her delight. “Looks like someone’s got a new best friend.”

Oscar’s smile faltered slightly. “Yeah… guess she does.”

Lando didn’t miss the hint of disappointment in Oscar’s voice. “You know she still loves you, right? Kids go through phases.”

“I know, I know,” Oscar replied, trying to sound nonchalant as he rolls his eyes. “It’s just… I didn’t think I’d be playing second fiddle to Logan, of all people.”

Lando chuckled. “Well, at least she has good taste. Logan is fun… in his weird American way. Baseball, football, hotdogs and stuff like that. But you’re still her dad… no one can take that from you.”

Oscar nodded, though his eyes were still glued to the scene in front of him. Logan was now teaching Sadie how to high-five, her little hand smacking against his with enthusiasm. The sight should’ve made Oscar laugh, but instead, it made him feel… left out.

“Maybe,” Oscar said quietly, “…but sometimes it feels like I’m just not enough for her.”

Lando looked at him, surprised by the admission. “Oscar, she’s a 2-year-old. It’s not about you being enough or not. She just likes Logan because he’s fun and new. Trust me, when she needs comfort, when she’s upset or scared, it’s you she’ll run to.”

“Did you indirectly call me old and boring?”

“You know what I meant!”

Oscar wanted to believe that, but watching Sadie beam up at Logan made it hard. He knew he was being irrational, that he shouldn’t let a child’s innocent preferences get to him, but the sting was still there.

“…Zak is calling me over.” Lando gave a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he spots the CEO waving a hand over. “Just keep what I said in mind. She loves you Oscar. Sadie’s just happy to see a face she rarely sees. Good luck in quali, yeah?”

Oscar nodded as Lando walked away, but his focus was still on Sadie and Logan. He wasn’t used to feeling like this—jealous of his best friend, of all people. It was silly, really, but he couldn’t shake it.

As the preparations for Qualifications continued, the garage was abuzz with activity. Oscar was trying to get back into the right mindset when he felt a familiar hand on his shoulder.

“You look deep in thought,” You said, coming up beside him with a warm smile.

Oscar turned to her, managing a half-hearted smile. “Just thinking. You know how it is.”

Your eyes followed his gaze to where Sadie and Logan were now playing with a small toy car. “She seems to be having a blast with Logan.”

Oscar sighed. “Yeah, she’s been obsessed with him lately. It’s like I’m invisible.”

Your expression softened. You wrapped an arm around him and gave him a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not invisible, Oscar. Kids can be unpredictable. Logan’s just the new fun thing right now. It doesn’t change how much she loves you.”

Oscar looked at you, the weight of your words hitting him. “I know you’re right. I just hate feeling like I’m second place.”

“Oscar,” You said, lifting his chin with a gentle touch. “Sadie is 2 years-old. I think you need to remember that Sadie’s attachment to Logan doesn’t diminish her love for you. She’s just interested in her godfather she rarely sees. If anything, it just means she’s comfortable with the people around her, and that’s a good thing. Remember how she went from hating everything Lando did in the free practices to loving him at the end of the day? It’s the same thing. You’re her dad, and that’s a role no one else can fill.”

Oscar took a deep breath, letting your words sink in. Your gentle touch and reassuring smile helped ease the knot of insecurity that had settled in his chest. He glanced back at Sadie and Logan, and the sight of his daughter’s unrestrained joy started to warm his heart, even if the jealousy still lingered a bit.

The buzz of the garage continued around you both, and Oscar gave a thoughtful exhale, a much needed one. “Thank you, lovely. I guess I needed that.”

You gave him a soft smile, then glanced over at Sadie. “Logan might be fun for her at the moment, but remember that she’ll always be the one calling you dad.”

Oscar’s lips curved into a grin at your comment.

Yeah. Dad does sound pretty nice.

“Dad!”

[softtdaisy]

🌲 a found family l max verstappen

summary. you and max can't spend Christmas together but a trip to his dad and the love he has for you make him realize that he deserves better. a better life. a better love. a better family.

words count. 2,596

a/n. and this is the last piece for this Christmas series. Thanks to all of you for sticking me through December. and a massive thanks to my favorite person @monzabee for encouraging me and for giving me this beautiful idea to end the series 🫶

a very angsty Christmas l masterlist

You looked absolutely gorgeous, wearing a dress Max had bought you this year during one of your holidays. One of the many gifts he did to you this year, because if there were one thing that could describe your boyfriend it would be his generiosity. That man could buy you the world if you wanted it. 

And that was maybe what was making him the saddest tonight.

He could see you wearing it and neither could he offer you his gift. 

Because you were not spending Christmas’ eve together. But in each other’s family.

“You know this look is a great excuse to skip the diner at my dad’s?” Max asked which made you laughed. He was still sit on your bed, his shirt barely closed and his hair absolutely not styled. He was the closest to his place, compared to you who had to drive for almost two hours. 

He watched you as you walked to your phone, that you had put on your wardrobe to show your whole look. “You’re such a flirt, Maxie.” you kept laughing, specially when he started making his poutty face that you absolutely love. You always found it funny how most people saw him as this arrogant guy when he was such a sweetheart. 

“Ain’t I allowed to flirt with my girl?” 

“You are. It’s a shame you won’t enjoy the result of this flirt tonight.” 

This hasn’t been an easy decision for either of you. It’s was only your first christmas together since you started dating on january. And you really wish you could have spend the evening together. But you learn one thing through this past year: never go against Jos Verstappen’s plan. 

From the first race you attended, you got the feeling Jos didn’t really appreciate you. You tried to talk about it with Max without making a whole drama out of it but he didn’t really react. Or say anything, actually.

Not that Max didn’t care. It was even far from it. He just didn’t know what to do. He never talked about his personnal life with his dad and it wouldn’t be a first now. Specially not with these type of question. Max always assumed that his father only care about his racing career. It couldn’t be that bad if he wasn’t interested in his son’s couple. Right?

“I have to go” you told Max, who was lost on his thoughts. He enjoyed for the last few seconds to sight of you before you had to hung up. “Call me if you need, alright?” 

“Even if I don’t need it.” he laughed before letting you go.

Every time he had to say goodbye to you, on the phone or because you couldn’t follow him for the next race, Max felt a little hole in his heart. He never thought one day he’ll met someone that could complete him like you did. 

That’s all he thought about until he arrived at his dad’s place. All the thing he wanted to do with you before the new season starts, where he would take you during the holiday, which races you could be there and what places he wanted to show you during these weekend. More than just happiness for your couple, Max realised how important you were for his anxiety. Before he met you, most of the time he had to drive to see his father, he was anticipated all the bad things that could happen. The critics, the disapproval, the yelling if they really did disagree on something. And the worst part was that, in the end, he was just living the nightmare before it happened.

And maybe it was the fact he didn’t think about all these things before arriving, but Max felt good when he arrived.

“Uncle Maxie!” And being around his nephew was definitely a good help.

For many years, Max never consider having children. The anxiety he developped because of his own childhood was a perfect argument to avoid trying. How could he give a child what he needs if he doesn’t know himself what a kid should have? He knew what he shouldn’t do, that’s all.

But these past weeks, from seeing his nephews and calling them, he realized that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.

And maybe, you weren’t for nothing in this change of mind.

“You’re shinny, uncle Maxie.” 

“Shinny?” he laughed, still playing with the little cars that represent all the Formula one drivers.

“Yep. You’re happy.” 

Max didn’t know what to answer to that. But then he felt two hands on his shoulders and a kiss from Victoria on his hair. “He’s right.” He turned around to look at her. He guessed that the look she had was just another proof that indeed, he was lookier happier. “It’s for the toast, come.”

It was some kind of tradition. Everyone had to say what they were grateful for at the end of this year. Kids, health, career… each other always revolved around these subjects. Max was not going to break the circle. Not today.

“Well I’m grateful for the amazing year I spend. Winning the championship again was more than I could expect at the beginning of the season. So yeah I’m grateful for the team, for the work we did to win the races and create such amazing memories all together.” 

Max stopped for a few seconds, thinking about what he could be grateful for. There was one thing, obviously.

If he met his father’s eyes, he wouldn’t have continued. But he didn’t. He looked at Victoria and her massive smile. 

“And I’m grateful for my girlfriend. I couldn’t have go through this crazy year without her. She’s my rock, she’s my best friend, she’s without a doubt my soulmate and I’m glad I could finally found the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

Max heard all the lovely and loudly sound from his family. And before he could notice her, Victoria was already in his arms, telling him how proud she was that he finally found the happiness he deserved.

Again, he could have focus on the good thing, all the congratulations and excitement about this new family member that they all couldn’t wait to meet. But this time, Max did saw Jos look on him. One that he sadly knew by heart: disappointment. 

At first, Max decided to ignore the situation and spend most of the evening playing with his nephews, pretending to be a car himself to drive them around the house. But he couldn’t escape the heavy atmosphere forever.

Max saw that Jos was sitting by himself in the living room, with a whisky in his hand. He hesitated, did he really wanted to break all the good vibes for a talk for his dad? And then again, he was too nice to avoid him. No matter if he knew he would end this conversation with some broken feelings, Max couldn’t escape it. Because if there was one thing he was sure about, it was that he never wanted to become like his father. A man that would rather ignore the people he love for the sake of disappointment. Silence was never the solution.

“So, how do we feel about new season?” Max asked, sitting next to him. If there was one subject they couldn’t really argue about was his career. Or at least, even if there was some disagreement, it wouldn’t end up badly.

“You have to leave her.” It was simple. Five words. Said with a hard tone. Like an order. “You’re already losing your man over that…stupid girl. You can’t let yourself fail for a woman, Max.”

Maybe he should have gone with the swerve, in the end. “What do you mean? I’ve been with her for a year and I still won.” He could have, maybe, understand if the season was a pure fail. But it wasn’t. The car was amazing and he won almost every races. There was not single doubt that not only you weren’t a burden but you were a motivation for him. It didn’t make sense. But still, Max knew where all of this came from. Because he knew his father.

“A woman is always a burden in a career.” 

“This is why you got married thrice?” It left his mouth without Max had time to notice it. Truth is, he got tired as he grow older of the need to think about his words. What could he say what he mean to his dad? Why should he still be afraid? “Trust me, you terrible at giving relationship advices.” 

“You should watch your mouth.” Jos replied, taking a stew towards his son. For many years, Max used to step back to avoid the confrontation. Not anymore.

Instead, he took at step towards too. “You should watch yours. I won that fucking championiship, again. And you can’t even congratulate me? All you think about is the woman that want to spend her life with me? Not you, me.”

He noticed the change, again, in Jos look. It was getting darker and darker, like his anger was taking over himself and he was close to not be able to contain himself. Usually, Max was scared of the moment he would explode. There was just one change in his mind. You.

Max could accept any criticism about his career or life choices, he didn’t care. It was his life. Sometimes he might be wrong and he could deal with his dad saying that he warned him. He was still young and could deal with some mistakes.

But there was one thing he could never let Jos critcize or give his opinion on it: you.

“I won’t let you ruin your career for some stupid woman.” Jos got the time to grab his wrist. Max hated feeling like a child, all over again. Looking for his dad approval. 

Expect that this time, he didn’t want it. “Fine. It’s my career. I don’t need your opinion.” he managed to free himself and was already leaving the room. He couldn’t continue this without letting it become some shit show. No matter the situation, his family didn’t deserve it. Specially not on Christmas eve. 

“If you don’t leave her, then i’m not supporting you anymore.” 

Max stopped in the middle of the room. He heard the sound of a glass falling in the kitchen sink. He heard the sudden silence in the children’s playroom. This was the results of year of fighting for Jos seeing him as an equal, as a real driver and not a child who wants to grow older and be consider an adult. This was the results of feeling like his dad loved him.

Max was hurt. But he couldn’t fight anymore. “Fine.” he didn’t turn around, didn’t want to look at his father. It wasn’t the idea of seeing him. It was the idea of Jos seeing how bad he broke him, again. “I’ll do better without you.” 

The silence was still everywhere when Max walked to his sister to kiss her and said goodbye to his nephew. It was for the better, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to fight if they asked him to stay. But Victoria knew his brother, and what he deserves was to be in a place where he felt loved. 

And there was one where he knew he would never be ignored and rejected.

When you opened the door, you imagined different scenarios. But never one where you would see Max on your doorstep. “Baby?” you asked with confusion, almost like you were sure he was real.

“I’m sorry, I should have called, I know i wasn’t invited but…” he didn’t need to continue. Because you recognized the look in his eyes. One you sadly saw before. When he argued with his dad on the circuit and you couldn’t do anything than holding him in your arms. Telling me it would get better. That he wasn’t alone.

That was the only truth Max needed. He was far from being alone.

So you offered your hand to him. “Come in baby.” you noticed the little hesitation in his look, on that sadden you. It wasn’t that Max didn’t want to come in. It was a pur fear of opening his heart to you and losing you after. It didn’t last long, because he knew deep down that you were here to stay. But you were scared that this was a kind of thought that would never leave his mind.

You gave him a small and simple kiss on the lips, a kind of silent promise that you were supporting him. It wasn’t much, but it was more than Max even asked for. He was so not used of being understood and loved, this simple attention was enough to light up his heart again.

“Sweetie, who’s th… Oh Max! What a lovely surprise!” 

You were interrupted by your dad who almost push you away to take Max in his arms. You weren’t surprised. First, because your dad was a very lovely and tactile person who couldn’t resist this type of greeting. Second, because he appreciated Max so much, he was probably the one praying every day for a wedding. Third, because he had been asking you all night why you didn’t bring him. 

But Max, on the contrary, was more than surprised by that. Was he really that happy to see him? “Come in, you’re getting cold. Did you eat? We have…” you didn’t even hear the rest of the sentence that your dad had already pulled Max to the living room. Your boyfriend just had the time to turn around and give you a curious look. To which you replied with a smile. It felt right to see him being appreciated and treated like he should.

All your family spend the night talking to him, asking questions and making him feel like he was home. That was the truth, actually: this place was also a home for him. It was yours. And your family already considered him as a part of it. There was no reason for Max to not be a full member. 

It wasn’t until you got to bed, in your bedroom, that he let his mind speak. You were laying on his chest while he was looking at the ceiling and caressing your hair. It was relaxing for both of you to stay in silence after the crazy night you had. 

“I’ve felt much more at home here in a few hours than in all my life with my dad.” Max said slowly, in a whisper.

You turned your head just enough to look at him while he was still focused on his thoughts. You were making a whole speech in your head to make him feel better. You had no idea how he felt about this. This must be such a strange situation to feel more loved by your family-in-law than your own. 

But then he put a kiss on your hair and started to smile. “Thank you.” he whispered, like he was scared to be heard by anyone else. “For finding me and for loving me.”

You could feel your heart melt at this confession. “Thank you for opening your heart to me.” you replied. 

And you stayed like that for a good minute before you made a debrief of the whole evening here. When you both fell asleep, you realised you had the greatest gift you could ever dream of. Happiness in the arms of your loved one.

[cheriladycl01]

None of my Achievements are my Own - Lando Norris x Verstappen! Reader

Plot: Being the little sister of Max Verstappen, Ex Girlfriend of Charles Leclerc and Lando Norris current girlfriend nothing that you do, seems to reflect on you, it’s always one of the men in your life getting the credit.

Coming from a family with the last name Verstappen, made anything you did as a child not good enough.

You won a medal in your swimming class, Max had won 3.

You raised €600 euro selling baked cakes across your village for the local environment agency. Max had raised €2000 for his local karting track to get new tires around the edges for protection and have the track relayed.

They were silly little things but as a kid, you never felt appreciated by your family and it wasn’t just your dad, it seemed to be your mum too. Max and Victoria also never took notice of your feelings on the matter.

As you got older, being cast out and almost ignored by your family caused you to develop Anxiety and stayed in the house for most of your teen years.

You only really left when forced to go to Max’s races as he started progressing his way through the FIA feeder series to get to F1.

“Dad I really don’t want to be here today” you sighed rubbing your shoulder as you kept your headphones half on half off.

“It’s good for you to support your brother, especially as he’s becoming an accomplished young man. I can’t say the same for you” he frowns watching as Max passes you guys on track.

That race shortly ended. You saw Max getting a little heated just after the podium, and you ran over to your older brother to try calm him down.

If there was one thing you were good at it was calming his bad temper down. Not that you ever got the recognition.

“Max, Maxie what’s going on?” You ask running up to him, and seeing the guilty looking boy next to him.

“Next time maybe fucking look” Max seethes at the boy.

“Max calm down. What happened” you ask taking a hold of his arm, but he swats your hand off.

“He nearly made me loose that race from his careless driving” he points at the boy before storming of to your father, no doubt to have him critique the hell out of his race.

“I’m so sorry about him” you admit to the boy bashfully. He was still stood there looking rather awkward.

“It’s fine, he was right. You’re his sister right?” he sighs.

“Yeah- how’d you know?” You ask.

“You always seem to be here with Max and your dad. I don’t think he’d talk to you the way he does if you weren’t his family. I’m Charles by the way” the boy says and that was the start of something really beautiful.

You started dating Charles just as he was announced for F2 in 2016. But when that got into the media, of course it was because of Max that you’d managed to get into a relationship with a future F1 driver.

You thought finally having some independence from your brother would mean you could put a foot out in this world.

But once you left home to move in with Charles, it only seemed like as he progressed to Formula One in 2018, your further achievements were still not your own.

“Max, I’m leaving” you’d told you brother. You’d already had this conversation with your father who had refused at the idea at first, thinking it preposterous of you to leave.

“What do you mean?” He’d asked cocking his head to the side.

“I’m going to live with Charles, I think it’s going to be better for me” you said, looking down, and playing with your fingers.

“What do you mean, better for you” he asks with a frown on his face. Despite what the fans, or media stated Max loved you with his whole heart, and it was a huge heart he loved you with, he however was ignorant to your feelings on independence. But that was also partly your fault for hiding it so well.

“I just want to go do something for me, you know where it’s my name tied to it and I think somewhere new away from everything here is exactly what I need” you explained.

“Your name?” He asks with even more of a frown.

“None of my achievements are my own, or are acknowledged because I’m the sister of Max Verstappen but maybe I just want to be Y/N for a little bit? I want people to notice me for me, and what I’ve done in life. Not just because my last name is Verstappen” you smiled and hoped that day your new life with Charles would be different.

It wasn’t, If anything … it was worse.

You got into University to study engineering, but that was only because you were dating F1 driver Charles Leclerc otherwise you would have gotten into University the minute you turned 18 in 2017. Rather than delaying it till 2019 once Charles had a secure seat in Ferrari.

And when you became an advocate for APM Monaco, it was only because Charles was asked first.

Or once you got a job within McLaren in 2019 it was only because you had a brother driving for RedBull and a boyfriend driving for Ferrari. Not because of your ambition and hard work in your first year of University.

And when Charles proposed to you, you were quick to say yes.

You were ready to get rid of the dreadful Verstappen name, and Y/N Leclerc had a nice ring to it, and maybe once you just became Charles fiancé you’d have some independence.

But that fantasy was of course short lived.

“Charles baby?” You asked coming home from a day at university. You’d come home because a lecturer had failed to turn up so you thought you’d surprise your boyfriend with his favourite meal and some flowers.

You heard some movement in the bedroom making you go up and see a sight that broke your heart.

Your boyfriend of 4 years, fiancé for 1 year in bed with another woman. You couldn’t bare the sight.

“Y/N my love. I - what” he gasps as you’d entered the bedroom.

“H-how long?” You’d asked, it was your first question. We’re you not good enough?

“Ma Cherie, please forgive me I’m so so sorry” he begs getting on his knees and the other girl takes her leave.

And the worst thing of all, you were so hopelessly in love with him, that you nearly did forgive him with that look.

“Nothing I’ve ever done in my life, has ever been because of me. I’ve never got the credit for anything, so this one time… I’m taking the credit for breaking up with you. And you are going to tell everyone how you broke my heart … because I will not have you take this from me” you’d said to him with tears in your eyes, a sense of deja vu from you conversation three years prior with Max.

You broke up with him on the spot not wishing to ever see him again.

After some time of self reflecting and improvement you and Lando, who had joined McLaren at the same time as you and became your close friend decided it was time to be more than friends.

Lando had always kind of held a school boy crush on you since you both started in 2019, but he knew you were untouchable thanks to both your brother and your boyfriend at the time. Being the same age made you guys really close.

Once you’d broken up with Charles, he could see the change in you, there wasn’t that sparkle in your eyes, you always looked pretty vacant when he looked at you when you thought nobody was looking.

He’d watch the way your eyes lit up with fake happiness when someone approached you to talk.

You and Lando started dating at the end of the 2022 season. However when he said he wanted to keep it under wraps for a while you were so excited. It meant you had Landos love and affection but you were free to be you right?

WRONG

Whatever you’d did you were still seen as Max Verstappen’s Sister and the Ex Girlfriend of Charles Leclerc.

However as you and Lando grew as a couple you noticed he was one of the only to acknowledge your achievements even if the fans didn’t.

When you graduated from your masters in 2023 he was there with a bunch of flowers and watched as you walked across the stage being the loudest person cheering you on, well the only person really cheering you on. Your parents and brother didn’t manage to come.

When you started running a charity on the side to help creatures in the ocean stop ingesting so much plastic being thrown into the ocean. He was there at the press conference where you’d announced your invention and how it would help clear up the oceans.

All of the little side quests he did with you, he made sure to promote them as yours as yours alone and he was only tagging alone to watch and support.

Of course there were still haters, thought you were only a product of your birth name and who you’d dated and that’s why you’d been given all these opportunity’s and that you hadn’t worked hard for anything in your life.

Which was beyond false.

“Lando?” You asked one day, you both lying in bed after a stressful race weekend.

“Yes baby?” He asks looking away from his phone and his eyes fully trained on you showing he was paying full attention to you.

“I - I really love you and appreciate you, I just wanted to let you know” you say looking over at him, and he moves back in shock a little, trying not to show it.

“W-what? Where has this come from. I know you love me silly” he laughs looking over you to try determine if there was anything else going on.

“I know I know, I just - my whole life whatever I’ve done was never mine … not until I met you. And I just want you to know that I appreciate the fact that you see … well me” you breathe and as ge listens he looks like he could cry from the things you are saying to him.

He knew your relationship with your brother was strained at best, he saw that from the very start. And he knew you and Charles didn’t exactly end on a happy note but he didn’t realise just how much you’d been not only discredited for but out right stolen off.

“Baby - why did you never tell me” he asks pulling you into him and hugging you while toying with your hair gently.

“I guess I never felt like I had a voice until I met you, because nothing was my own. But I have that with you!” You smile tears brimming your own eyes with how much you love this man in front of you.

“Marry me” he whispers not looking at you, and you think you didn’t hear him correctly.

“What?”

“Marry me. I never want you to feel like that ever again, and I love you more than anything on this planet. I want to show you just how much of a voice you have for the rest of our lives” he offers and you can’t help but just stare at his eyes.

“Yes - Yes” you cry and cling to him like a koala.

You’d finally found your voice and your purpose and that was in Lando Norris.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[onlyhereforthestories]

Turkey Farm Traditions (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Day 23! This is a tradition of mine and my dads. I have never not gone to get the turkey with him on Christmas eve, and yes I'm going tomorrow! Anyone got any traditions they love?

The festive season was well underway, and with it came the cold weather. Normally, you thrived in the chill, finding comfort in the crisp air and cozy nights. But this year, the winter cold only made everything seem a little sadder because of the situation you were in.

You had always gone home for Christmas. No matter what was happening in your life, you always made the trip back to England for the holidays, at the very least. But not this year. This year, you would be spending Christmas in Spain with your girlfriend of five years, Alexia.

It was the first year Alexia had expressed her dislike of spending the season apart, and she asked if you would be okay with having Christmas Day at your shared home in Spain. She had even offered to fly your parents and sister, along with her family, out to celebrate together. But you knew that wouldn't be practical.

You didn't want to spend Christmas apart from Alexia either, so you agreed. You also spoke with your mum about visiting them for the New Year instead, since there was a long gap in fixtures for your club team. They were understanding and happy to have you visit then, even suggesting that you could do a little "mini Christmas" together. That idea was more than comforting—it was a lifeline.

With Alexia's help, you managed to get all the gifts for your family sent off in time, so you knew they'd be arriving for the big day. Your joint gifts were all double wrapped for safety by Alexia, as she was always the more organized one when it came to packaging. Once that was done, you felt a little better about not being with them for the holiday.

What also helped ease the feeling was the fact that you would be hosting Alexia's mother and sister for the day. Something that terrified you, to be honest.

Both women adored you, as you did them, but there was something about Christmas that made you want everything to be perfect. The holiday had always been very special to you, and you wanted to honour that, especially in your own home.

The month of December passed in a blur. Before you knew it, you were waking up in the arms of your lover on Christmas Eve morning. The winter sun crept through a crack in the curtains, gently warming your face as you dozed peacefully, your head resting on Alexia’s neck.

“Buenos días, mi amor. We have to get moving if you want food and coffee before we need to leave,” Alexia murmured, her fingers running through your hair, her voice a soft, sleepy hum.

You almost didn’t hear her, still lost in the comfort of her touch. “Good morning, love,” you said, blinking sleepily. “What do you mean leave? Where are we going? I thought I had food to prep for tomorrow.”

You pulled yourself out of the comfortable cocoon of her neck and raised an eyebrow at the teasing smirk on her face.

“I was tasked with the turkey, sí?” she said, her smile widening as you nodded. You'd been so absorbed in your thoughts that you didn’t catch the next part.

“Well, I spoke to your dad because I know you told me you normally drive to the farm to collect the turkey with him on Christmas Eve,” Alexia continued, her voice soft but steady. “He told me he’s done it with you since you were a baby. So, I found a farm about 45 minutes away here that does turkeys. We need to go collect it before noon.”

You didn’t know what to say. A wave of emotion swept over you, and your eyes welled with tears, but you tried to blink them back, not wanting to ruin the moment. You buried your head in her neck again, overwhelmed by her thoughtfulness.

“Thank you… thank you so much,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Alexia simply held you closer, her hands soothing as you fought to regain control of your emotions. This was a Christmas tradition you had always shared with your dad, and the fact that Alexia remembered and made it happen for you here, in Spain, meant more than you could put into words.

When you finally pulled yourself together, you kissed her deeply, pouring all your gratitude into the kiss. You knew if you tried to speak, you would only choke up.

Alexia, smiling softly, kissed you back with equal tenderness, pulling you closer when she wasn’t quite ready to let go. You spent a few more precious moments tangled up in each other, sharing lazy kisses and soft touches, until Alexia playfully pulled you out of bed and towards the kitchen.

The trip to the farm was a joy. You sang Christmas carols along with the radio, the warmth of the car and the company of Alexia making the ride feel almost magical. The festive farm was everything you hoped it would be, warm and cozy, with the scent of hay and pine in the air. Alexia’s face lit up as she saw the decorations, and you couldn’t help but smile at how happy she seemed. She even hummed along to a few of the carols as you drove there.

On the way back, Alexia managed to distract you while she dialled your dad's number. It wasn't until you heard his comforting voice, coming through the car’s speaker system, that you noticed the music had stopped.

“Merry Christmas, kiddo,” your dad’s deep voice boomed through the speakers. “I’m guessing you’ve got the turkey by now. Alexia said she’d call when you were heading back. It’s my turn to drive this year, but I’m glad you have someone to share the tradition with. Love you.”

The words made your heart swell, and you spoke with him for a few minutes before promising to call again on Christmas Day. You spoke to both your dad and Alexia until you reached home, where you could hear the turkey cooking already.

When you arrived home, all you could do was launch yourself at Alexia. She had taken a tradition so deeply rooted in your childhood and made it her own, blending your past and present together in a way you hadn't imagined possible. You felt incredibly blessed.

You knew that the present you had for her was the perfect gift, one that you had spent a long time working out. Because she had given you the best present of all: a Christmas that would forever be remembered, not just for the old traditions you’d kept, but for the new ones she had helped you create.

[missnancychavez]

So I am on my third rewatch of Twisters. So here are some of my own personal headcanons and theories for the movie and some parallels that may add weight to those theories.

1. The original 5 friend group dynamic: Jeb and Praveen have known each other for years and are each others best friend. Javi and Kate are the dynamic duo (basing it on the fact that they were the only ones to do the handshake together). And Addy is everyone's little sister. Her and Kate were extremely close, but in a different way than her friendship with Javi.

2. Tyler Owens is the nephew of Bill and Jo on Bill's side (As we knew Jo didn't have any sibling). He spent his summers with them as a kid, and then as a teenager, he moved in with them full time. He started chasing with them around then, too. He even pays homage to that as he is driving a newer model of Bill's red dodge ram.

3. Boone and Lily have something going on. The way Boone screams her name as she gets picked up by the wind. And their personalities are perfect together. You can't convince me otherwise.

4. Kate and Tyler kiss in the truck after the chase they go on straight from the airport at the end of the movie. (Refer to point 8)

5. Kate puts in her resignation almost immediately, and Javi cuts ties with Riggs and Scott. The wranglers and Kate join StormPAR. Kate and Tyler spend the off-season working with Javi while the others do their own gigs, but during the storm season, they are all chasing and gathering data.

6. Cathy is so encouraging of her daughter because she's been through loss before. They called her Mrs. Carter, meaning she was married. Kate's dad died when Kate was a little girl. Cathy had to learn how to navigate being a young mom and tending a farm on her own. But she also knows that it could stop her from living her life. So she didn't. She grieved, and she learned to live with the grief and still do what she loves. It's why she is so encouraging of Kate getting back out there.

7. Kate stayed in OK for another couple of weeks after the tornado (neither her nor Tyler appeared injured in the final scene, and the truck looks great, all things considered, so clearly they had time tp heal and fix the truck.) They all were forcibly invited back to the farm by Cathy after Tyler and the wranglers went to drop Kate off post El Reno. Cathy took one look at Tyler and forced him in the house. Kate gave herself a headache from laughing so hard. She was then sent inside alongside him. Cathy made everyone stay for as long as they needed. But she did, however, get some free labour from it. It was an unspoken agreement that Kate's was now home base.

8. By the credit scenes, Kate and Tyler are together. Their first kiss was immediately after the two of them went chasing from the airport. Something about their adrenaline rushing, and it being just the two of them. It was electric. It was immediate. It just happened, and when they pulled back, they both started laughing. It reminded him of the first time they chased together, just the two of them. Kate delayed her flight for another two days. She was back home within the month. Tyler quickly realised he would have to start bribing Boone afterwards on the days he and Kate went out.

9. Kate and Boone will play card games at night to see who gets shotgun the next day, when Boone isn't riding with Lily, of course. Turns out, Kate's damn good at playing poker. On the rare occasion that Kate drives, Boone automatically hops in the back of the truck. He won't tell anyone, but he loves it when she drives. She gets this manic energy about her in the drivers seat and his adrenaline always ends up pumping. Tyler loves it, too, but he has no qualms verbalizing his affections toward her.

10. Tyler has nightmares now. Of watching Kate drive into the tornado. Of finding her body, discarded and broken by his truck. Of her slipping through his fingers during a storm. He wakes up sweating and panicking. And it's only when he sees her that he can calm himself down. The two of them, those first two weeks after El Reno, would spend hours each night, sitting in the barn, going over formulas. Or sitting outside on the tree swing, talking until they were both too exhausted to have any nightmares. When she left to go back to New York, she wasn't particularly surprised when one night she awoke to her phone ringing, Tyler close to having a full blown panic attack as he tried and failed to reassure himself that she was okay without her help. They would always call each other before bed after that, usually falling asleep over facetime.

[callme-holly]

HEY HI HELLO!! I was wondering if you havent already, do johnny or darry headcannons? BTW I LUV UR WRITING SM 🫶🏻

𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - okay, I freaking love Darry so much but I struggled so hard writing this. omg I also want to apologise bc I didn't realise how many mistakes were on my last post like I audibly gasped when I looked. anyway, hope ya'll enjoy this lmao!! asks are still open for requests - I'm done with exams for a few weeks so I can finally start working on things more!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 644 words

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - none

He is such a gentleman, omg, I can't even

If you need something done, this man will do it for you with no hesitation. You’re important to him, and he wants to make sure you know that.

He’s probably not overly affectionate unless you two are completely alone. Once the gang had caught you both cuddling on the couch, and they had teased him for weeks afterwards.

In public, he’ll hold your hand and give you the occasional kiss, but nothing too extreme. He likes to keep your moments together private; they mean a lot to him, and he’s not just going to give the people around you the pleasure of seeing him so vulnerable.

At night, he’ll definitely hold you close while you two sleep.

He’s like a furnace, so who needs blankets when you’ve got Darry to keep you warm?

Arguments don’t happen often between the two of you, but when they do, they’re usually pretty bad. Give him a few hours to cool off, and then he’ll be holding you from behind and mumbling muffled apologies into your ear as he peppers your neck with small kisses.

Lots of massages and baths together. He works a lot, and his muscles are almost always tense, so having that time to relax and wind down with you is just what he needs.

He’s not the overly jealous type. Sure, if he thinks someone is getting a little too friendly with you, he’ll come up and try to take you away from them, but he isn’t going to stop you from interacting with someone completely just because he can’t control himself.

Date nights aren’t very common. In between work and taking care of his brothers, Darry doesn’t get much free time, but when he does, you best believe he is spending it with you, showing you how much he loves and appreciates you.

He’ll take you to dinner or for a drive in his truck just to get away from the house for a little while.

Sitting in his lap while he reads the paper!!

The gang, mainly Dallas and Two-Bit, refers to you as “mom and dad,” and it honestly drives you both insane.

“Look, I’m just sayin’, you’ve got that whole ‘nurturing, responsible, and slightly annoyed at my antics’ vibe going on.” “Well, if you keep up with those antics, you might find yourself sleeping outside for the night.” “Oh, come on, mom, you wouldn’t do that to your favourite child, would you?” “For the last time, Dallas, you are not my child. And if you were, you certainly wouldn’t be my favourite.”

Sodapop and Ponyboy love you. Like they love you. They will cling to you the second they meet you, and you’ll never be able to get rid of them.

I’m not even going to pretend he doesn’t have a picture of you in his wallet. He does, and he’s proud of it.

WEARING HIS SHIRTS!!!!

Constantly complimenting each other. Not a day will go by where he hasn’t complimented you at least ten times. He just needs you to know how perfect you are.

You stopped him from yelling at Ponyboy so much.

When you first brought it up, you definitely argued for a little while about the subject. He just wants what's best for his brother, and you telling him that he needs to lay off is probably going to spark something defensive within him.

He doesn't say ‘I love you’ very often, usually whispering it late into the night or early in the morning when you two are laying in bed and tangled with each other, but he always ensures that you know how much he cares and appreciates you.

Needless to say, Darry will not let you go away feeling unloved.

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

[sirfrogsworth]

I saw this on Reddit and it reminded me of how hard it is to transport my dad to all his appointments.

I have to push him in a wheelchair for any long distance and because of stuff like this, I have had to figure out how to pop wheelies, back down curbs, and go through doors backwards because the auto-open feature is broken. You would not believe how often the auto-open button is not functioning at doctor's offices, hospitals, and other medical establishments.

This thing.

I don't know why they break so often, but someone needs to do something about it.

One of my biggest pet peeves is people blocking the wheelchair crosswalk in front of my dad's dialysis center.

This drives me nuts.

Especially because a lot of the time it is a family member dropping off someone in a wheelchair for dialysis. You'd think they'd know better.

Because I am able to walk and push my dad I always park in the disabled spot and push him across the crosswalk. People transporting patients or family members with electric wheelchairs or more serious debilitations will choose to park directly in front of the building so they don't have to transport them as far. I park in the parking lot so I don't take up space in front of the building for these more serious patients. I'm trying to do my part to make this process easier for everyone.

Unfortunately these folks will often block the crosswalk. All they have to do is pull a bit in front of the crosswalk and they can still transport the wheelchair with ease. Usually medical transport services will do this correctly, but most family members don't give a shit. They just want to get grandma out of the car as fast as possible.

But the worst offenders are customers and delivery drivers going to the Chinese place directly next to the dialysis center. These are all able-bodied people. Customers can't be bothered to park in a parking space 50 feet away so they park in front of the crosswalk and leave their car while they order food.

And then there are the motherhecking delivery drivers.

Are you seeing this shit?

He angled the truck so his ramp would reach the sidewalk. Absolutely no space to fit a wheelchair.

AHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRGGGG. Are you kidding meeee?

I had to back my dad down a curb and wheel him around the front of the truck and then wheelie him over another curb to get to the parking area.

This dude was blocking the way for at least 30 minutes. My dad wasn't finished when I got there so I had to wait for him. Almost every patient at the dialysis center is in a wheelchair. He saw me pushing my dad all around the parking lot and just kept making his deliveries.

I nearly confronted the delivery driver, but my dad was feeling really weak from dialysis and he desperately needed to get home so he could lie down. But if I see this again, I am definitely going to say something. Anxiety be damned. I was so mad.

I guess I just want people to know stuff like this happens constantly. We need to spread the word that inconsiderate stuff like this is unacceptable.

And sometimes the worst culprits can be the family members of the disabled people. We are in this together and we need to support each other.

[lunajay33]

Protect Me

•🤎🪵🌲🪨•

Summary: Being the youngest was hard especially being a girl, Sam and Dean always tried to protect you but on one hunt the monster takes you and the after math is bad, so they have to call in John

Pairing: Sam Winchester x sister, Dean Winchester x sister, John Winchester x daughter

•Masterlist•

Being the youngest was hard especially being a girl in this family work, I’m only a year younger than Sam but still I felt like a baby compared to them, when Sam went off to school it was just Dean and me and dad took it hard especially on me, he pushed me to work harder all the time and the pressure became overwhelming

Well now he’s missing and it’s just me and my brothers, driving down the interstate to a new mission, this one was a bit out of my league, vampires, they’re strong and I don’t have as much experience with them as Sam and Dean

“Hey you okay back there, you’re pretty quiet” Dean asks as he looks through the rearview mirror

“Oh yeah just nervous”

“Hey we’ll be there the whole time, nothings going to happen to you sis” Sam smiles as he turns back to me

“Do you think we’ll find dad soon?”

“I don’t know kid, soon I hope”

After a bit more driving we made it to the motel and it was time to do some digging on these vampires as Dean came back with take out for supper

“Can I ask you guys something?” I sigh closing a historic book of the town

“Sure what’s up kid” Dean asks as he chows down on a burger

“Do you think dad left because of me?” They both stopped and gave me their full attention

“Why would you say that?” Sam asks giving me his puppy expression

“Well I’m not as good as Dean and he’s been getting more and more angry with me every mission, maybe he just didn’t wanna deal with me anymore, maybe he finally realized I’m just a burden” my bottom lip trembled finally letting out the feelings I’ve been holding in

“Are you nuts? Dad was only being hard because he wanted to make sure you were safe he loves you”

“Yeah you’re his daughter and he’d never leave us like this because of a few mistakes, don’t worry your little head” Sam reach over the table squeezing my shoulder

“Alright” I sigh going back to reading

•

The next day we gathered our supplies and were off to find them finding their small nest was camped out somewhere in the woods, we got out of the impala on a dirt road, getting our weapons ready

“Okay make sure you stay alert, watch eachothers back” Dean states and we start out into the darkening woods

My heart was beating so fast that’s all I could hear, walking behind Dean with Sam behind me, when a cry comes from up ahead and we’re sprinting towards it carefully but not quiet enough

I feel myself being thrown across the damp forest floor until a tree smashed against my back and I’m crumbling on the ground in pain

“Y/N!” Dean and Sam scream as they run towards me but they stop when I’m pulled up from behind by my throat my feet dangling above the ground

“Dean” I gasp as the air burns in my lungs and my vision blurs

“You leave us alone and leave town” the vampire states

“Oh not a chance we’re gonna kill every single one of you” that only angered it as it took my arm and effortlessly snapped it like a twig, I scream wailing in pain

“I won’t ask again”

“Fine fine we’ll go, just stop hurting her” Sam called out desperate

“If you come back again, she’s dead” the vampire hissed before throwing me to my brothers feet and it was gone

My arm felt like it’s been set on fire, my throat hurt so much I could barely breath, my back felt like a thousand knives had been ripping me open

I whine in pain as Sam picks me up, crying into his chest as they run back to the car frantic

“Just hold on we’re going to the hospital you’ll be fine” Sam says as he gently lays me in his lap in the back of the car as Dean puts his foot pedal to the metal driving so fast it was almost nauseating

The pain was all consuming I just want to close my eyes

“Hey you gotta stay awake” Sam says shaking me gently but the darkness took me and I was out

•

The beeping woke me up, opening my eyes to a dimly lit room, the only light coming from the monitor and the hallway

I try to sit up but gasp from the pain, noticing my arm in a cast and a brace around my neck, immediately Sam and Dean woke up from where they were sat in the chairs

“Hey you’re awake how do you feel?” Dean asks as Sam pushes my hair back

I open my mouth trying to answer but nothing comes out except a whine, my throat felt like a machete had been sliced through it as we would a vampire

“Can you talk?” Sam asks worried

I try again but nothing, I shake my head defeated and scared, scared they see I really am useless and they’ll leave me behind, the anxiety is all consuming and I know they can tell I’m upset

“Come on let’s get you back to the motel, just be gentle” they helped me sit up slowly placing me in the wheelchair and wheeling me out to the impala

When we get back to the motel I hobble over to the bathroom my back on fire as I slowly take off the neck brace, revealing the black and blue that covered the entirety of my throat , my eyes red from the burst blood vessels, lifting my shirt I turn seeing my back in the same condition also covered in cuts

“Oh sis, I’m so sorry” Sam came in seeing everything, I pull my shirt back down and make my way over to my bed Dean helping me lay down

“Can we get you anything? I’ll go out and get your favorite food” I reach out and grip his necklace and he knew what I meant he sighed and nodded, we all knew it probably wouldn’t work he hasn’t been answering calls so why would he this time

Dean picked up his phone and called I could faintly hear the voice mail if grown accustom to

“Dad it’s y/n she’s really hurt, she needs you, please if you get this this would be the time to show up” he closed his phone and sat next to me rubbing my leg

“It’ll be okay, you’ve still got us Angel” I nodded before drifting off to sleep again

My dreams are consumed by every hunting mistake I’ve made, everytime dad was mad at me, everytime I let them all down I wake up with a gasp again when I hear the front door slam open, I slowly sit up feeling my shirt rid up and that’s when I hear him, the voice I’ve missed so much

“Oh my baby girl” he comes around the bed and kneels infront of me, taking in my horrific beat up body

“The vampire it got a hold of her before we even saw it” Sam said

“I…..” that’s all I could get out before I was aching with pain keeling over as the waves of pain rolled over me

He took my shoulders and held me close

“This is why I’ve always been so hard on you, cause see you like this kills me, I promised your mother I’d never let anything bad happen to you” he sighed

At least they were all here now

“Maybe she needs to take a break for a while” Dean intervened

“Yeah and I’m not leaving till your better” I nodded feeling a little more relieved finally having my family back together

[jessjad]

What if?

Summary: Dean and Y/N are living the life they always wanted. They love eachother very much and want to start a family. Everything fits just perfectly. What could go wrong?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3637

Warnings: I don't want to give anything away here, but there are no triggers, just emotions.

A/N: This happens when you're in a certain mood. I had to express it. I hope you like it. Enjoy! All mistakes are mine!

My Masterlist

"Urgh, this was a long day." Y/N said as she flopped onto the couch exhausted.

"Yeah... I'm sorry this took so long today." answered Dean while he sat down next to her.

"No, that's not how I meant it." Y/N saw a little bit of guilt in his eyes as he looked at her apologetically. "You know I love your mum and I really like to spend time with her. It's just that... if you consider that we only wanted to meet for brunch and it is now already half past nine in the evening... it was just a long day. Without any judgment or that it was meant negatively."

And she meant what she said. Mary was a wonderful woman and a great mum to Dean. She had welcomed her into the family with opoen arms and warm words. His father John not so much, buit over time he warmed up too.

The sudden death of his father almost six months ago was all the more surprising. A tragic car accident caused by a drunk truck driver. And as much as John loved his classic car, the '67 Chevy Impala had failed to protect John when the car rolled over three times. Mary was hit hardest and since then she has been reluctant to be alone for long. And Y/N didn't mind them keeping Mary company, as she had taken her in almost like her own daughter, but she also noticed that Dean's guilty conscience was bothering him a bit.

Dean nodded his head, but did not look at his girlfriend. So she touched his cheek with her warm hand and made him look at her. "Do you know what I mean?"

Dean cleared his throat. "Yeah, I do." now he smiled a little, but Y/N could still tell that he was not feeling fully guiltfree. "But I also know that you wanted to stroll over the book flea market in town."

He was right. Today was the last day and Y/N had hoped to get a few special books. And eventhough Dean did not share her love for books, he never complained or made fun of her. He even accompanied her to such events, even though he could probably think of better things to do. But that made her love Dean a little more anyway.

"So..." Dean said and got up again. Y/N saw him disappear into the hallway where she heared him opening the closet door before he came back with a large box in his hand. "... yesterday during my break I picked something up for you."

"What?" she asked puzzled at the box that Dean just had placed in her lap.

When she opened the box, her eyes widened in surprise. About twenty books smiled at her and for a moment she didn't know what to say. At the top there were a few collected editions of Jane Austen novels and she knew immediately that he had memorized what she liked to read and so she couldn't wait to take a close look at each book.

"You're crazy." Y/N placed the box next to her on the couch and stood up. "You really used your break to get me some books?"

She hugged Dean and he closed his arms around her right away, presing her a little closer to her. "Of course I did. I would have liked to go with you too, but somehow I had the feeling, that today might be difficult. Although of course I would still have gone there with you today if you had wanted to."

"No, this is already more than enough." Y/N said and kissed him. "But... did you have enough time? It's almost fiftheen minutes from your workplace to the city hall."

"Yeah, but I had the time for it. I finished Dad's car earlier than expected and had to test drive it anyway. So I used it for a little tour of our beautiful Nashville."

Y/N smiled, but then she felt that uneasy feeling in her stomach again. Yes, they lived in Nashville and yes, she knew the city all too well. Still, it felt wrong somehow. The young woman didn't really know why or where this feeling came from, but it wasn't the first time. This had been happening again and again for weeks now. As if the life they were living here wasn't a real life. Something felt so wrong in moments like this, but she just couldn't quite explain what it was. So she kept it to herself.

"You're finished with the car? Will you give it back to your mum?"

"No." Dean shook his head. "I've already talked to her about this and she said, that she does not want to have it back. Besides... she thought that we would be more in need for a big car in the future." he wiggled with his eyebrows.

"Oh, is that so?" now she had to grin back.

"Of course. I'm ready when you are." and with one swift tug he grabbed her thighs and lifted her onto her hips. Y/N squealed in shock, but quickly regained her composure and laughed as Dean went into the bedroom with her in his arms.

The next morning, Y/N decided to prepare a big breakfast. It was Sunday and today they would just keep to themselves, relax at home and not see a soul. So she got to work and soon her house was filled with the smell of fresh coffee, pancakes, eggs and bacon. Y/N set the table, poured out some orange juice and waited for the toast to be ready. Then it wouldn't be long before Dean came downstairs, driven by his growling stomach.

So while Y/N was waiting for Dean, she decided to finally take a closer look at the box with the books. Her heart immediately jumped again. No matter how rough or tough Dean seemed on the outside, on the inside he was soft, caring and just wonderful. It didn't take Y/N long to figure this out and it made her fall in love with him even faster. Luckily, Dean really liked her too.

Among the Jane Austen books were other special editions. A few by Stephen King and also a few fantasy series that she was currently reading. But he had also brought a few new books that she hadn't heard of. One in particular caught Y/N's eye because it didn't seem like a normal novel. It was about the lore of a coven of witches from ancient Tartaria. And the more she leafed through the book, the clearer it became that it wasn't a normal book.

Y/N frowned. Why had Dean brought such a book with him? Did he really believe in witches? That was somehow strange. So she would ask him about it once he woke up and joined her. While she sorted the other books into her bookshelf, she placed the witch book on the kitchen island. But she noticed that her eyes kept returning to the book. Really strange.

But it took another twenty minutes until Dean finally trotted into the kitchen. He looked so cute with messy hair. They greeted each other with a small smile and a big hug before sharing a kiss. But shortly afterwards Dean saw the set table and widened his eyes.

“Did you do all of that this morning?” Dean asked surprised, but he immediately seemed much more awake and prepared to sit down at the table.

"Yes, I did. I just wanted to do it as a little thank you for the books you bought me." she said with a grin and poured coffee for herself and Dean.

"Aaww, you didn't have to do that." Dean replied, but already helped himself to the toast and bacon. "But I won't say no to it either."

"How come I'm not surprised?" laughed Y/N and ruffled Dean's still disheveled hair.

As she brought the coffee pot back, Y/N's eyes fell on the book about witches again and she picked it up before sitting down at the table too.

"But back to the books..." Y/N held up the book and Dean looked over at her. "...why did you bring me this book? It's not a novel."

"Oh, yeah. This is for Sam." Dean replied, biting into his toast.

"Sam?" Y/N asked confused.

"Yes. Sam." Dean repeated, frowning slightly. "My brother. He can certainly do more with it than I can. He's our lore expert."

Now Y/N was beyond confused. What was Dean talking about? She placed the book on the table and turned fully to Dean.

"Dean...you don't have a brother."

"What are you talking about?" Dean looked just as confused now.

"We've been together for over five years now, Dean. You don't have a brother. You've always been an only child."

For a moment, Dean looked like he wanted to protest, but then he shook his head slightly and cleared his throat.

"What? No, I didn't mean...brother brother. I meant a buddy of mine. Of course I'm an only child. What did you think?"

That somehow relieved Y/N, but she still didn't fully believe him. And that strange feeling arose within her again and didn't seem to want to go away. What was going on here?

A week later, Dean and Y/N were back to normal. Everything seemed normal and as usual. While Dean restored classic cars in the auto repair shop and made his customers happy, Y/N continued to work part-time at the bed and breakfast. She loved the work. It had a family feel to it and sometimes didn't feel like work at all. And sometimes, on his break, Dean would come over and have coffee with her before he had to go back.

Dean had met Y/N in the baking section of a supermarket. Y/N immediately noticed him and he also seemed to have noticed her straight away. His flirting attempts didn't take long to arrive and Y/N was only too happy to give in to them. And when they got to the meat section, it was clear that there was a spark. After that, it didn't take long until Dean called her again and they went on their first date.

Soon after, it had become clear that something more was developing between them and Y/N had no regrets. Dean had also often told her that he was happy. Everything was light and somehow he felt like a big weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Even if he could never quite say what he meant by that.

And Y/N has had to think about that over and over again over the last few days. Dean also seemed somehow preoccupied. The witch book was still in her possession and she often caught him holding it in his hand and looking down at it thoughtfully. She has also had it in her hand several times, as if it were attracting her, making her want to open it and read it carefully.

But she fought against it, tried not to give in to it because it somehow scared her. However, these efforts only resulted in her getting a headache that slowly became quite throbbing. So after finishing work, she decided to lie down on the sofa and get some sleep, hoping it would help.

But even the little nap didn't seem to help. On the contrary, she was haunted by confused dreams about witches. Magic curses that were cast on her and that she couldn't defend against. But what finally broke Y/N out of her sleep was the voice of her best friend Jane, calling out to her and telling her that she had to wake up.

As soon as she opened her eyes, her heart was racing and sweat was forming on her forehead. It took her several seconds until her mind was back in her house and her vision cleared. And immediately the headache came back. And the urge to read the witch book was now even stronger than before.

So she gave in to him. She picked up the book and opened it, reading carefully, page by page. And the more she read, the more the fog in her head cleared. All the more she remembered. When she came across a sleep-trance curse, the scales fell from her eyes.

She didn't immediately notice that Dean was coming home at that moment. But when she turned to him, she saw that he was holding a small, green plastic soldier in his hand. His eyes widened when he realized Y/N was reading the witch book. But somehow it also gave him a feeling of like-mindedness. And even though he didn't want to burst that happy little bubble they were in, they still needed to talk.

But when Dean even thought about talking to Y/N about what had happened to him today, his heart almost broke. He loved her very much and he also loved the life they had built over the last five years. By now they had even gotten to the point where they were thinking about having children together. But one more look at the little toy soldier in his hand made his decision stronger again. There was no other way if he wanted to finally bring light to darkness.

"Hey, Y/N..." he started while keeping a little distance to the woman infront of him. "...I think... we need to talk."

To his surprise Y/N nodded her head. "Yeah, I... think we do."

With the book still in hand she sat back down on the couch again. A couple of seconds later Dean did the same, but she could not speak right away, because he knew that it would change everything. So he took a few deep breaths and started with showiung Y/N the toy soldier in his hand.

"This... was inside the Impala. I found it, when I restored the car. It belongs to me... and my brother Sam. He's four years younger than me and when we were little we stuffed them into the car."

Y/N closed her eyes for a brief moment, hoping this was all a dream. But at the same time she had to laugh inside because from the looks of it, it was all a dream. Even if it felt like a bit of a nightmare right now.

"My name is Dean Winchester and me and my brother hunt monsters, ghosts and witches. So, basically all of the supernatural if you will." He rubbed the back of his head a little nervously and looked at Y/N carefully.

But Y/N wasn’t quite as surprised. A small smile even crept onto her lips. Actually she should have known that they weren't that different.

"I've had such a throbbing headache all week. Ever since we got this book here..." she held it up a bit, but didn't want to let it go. Not yet. "...My best friend Jane would have already devoured it. I was with her in Tonopah. We were tracking a witch who stole the life energy of single people."

Now Dean's eyes widened. So Y/N knew about it herself. She was also a hunter. Why had the idea seemed so far-fetched to him when it made so much sense now that he had heard it himself? And what she said about the witch's hunt also matched his memories.

"Sam and I were in Clarksburg. A witch sucked the life energy out of singles there too."

And suddenly relief, but also sadness and even a little fear spread through both of them. So it was definitely clear that the reality they were living together wasn't real. And they no longer had any doubts about each other's words. It just felt too right.

"What is the last thing you remember?" Y/N asked.

"We followed him for quite a while until we were able to find him in an abandoned house. Unfortunately, I was too forward. You know, I hate these damn witches. Sam called out to me. I wasn't paying attention for a moment and then... I don't know."

Y/N nodded knowingly. "You were hit by a curse. Just like me. Jane had located the witch in a hotel, but she had known we were coming. And as soon as I walked through the door of the room, a purple burst of energy hit me. After that, I don't know anything either."

"Fucking witches." Dean grumbled. "So, a curse. But which one?"

"I think I know the answer to that." And now Y/N opened the book in her hands again and showed that spell to him.

"A sleep-trance curse? What the heck is this?" so he read the whole page and his eyes darkened. "Son of a bitch! And what are we supposed to do about it? I mean, my brother is good with witch stuff, but I'm not sure he will come behind this."

"I already have an answer for that too." She showed Dean a paragraph on the next page. "We can only solve it ourselves. No matter what Jane or Sam try, they won't succeed."

"Well then, we should get to work, shouldn't we?" Dean said after reading the new lines too.

Y/N nodded at that too, but immediately afterwards she also realized what it would mean to lift the curse. They would give up their lives here. She would lose everything she thought she loved. But she also asked herself what about the feelings she had for Dean right now. Were they at least real? Or did they just come from the curse? Would she lose feelings as soon as she woke up? Or would she at least be able to remember it? She didn't know.

Dean also seemed to notice her change in emotions and placed a hand on her thigh. He couldn't deny that he was a little scared too. This life they had here was everything he had always imagined. This was truly what it must have felt like to live a normal life. Without monsters and all the evil that roamed the streets at night. And even though nothing had happened yet, he already missed it.

And he already missed Y/N, even though she was still sitting here next to him. But it would probably take a while before he finally understood how unfair it all was. Showing him a piece of heaven and then ripping it out of his hands. But they had to go back, had to see how Sam and Jane were doing. And they had to kill those fucking witches.

Three days later they had all the ingredients together. Thanks to Dean's recovered memories, he had been able to get many things the usual way. They had both taken time off from work and spent the rest of their time together. The closer they got to the finish line, the more Y/N's heart broke.

She had just divided up all the ingredients and set up the bronze bowl when Dean came to her with white candles in his hand. He lit it and Y/N began mixing the ingredients according to the order. But when she got to the last step, she stopped.

"Y/N?" Dean asked, but he already saw the emotions rise in her eyes.

"What... what will happen when we wake up?" now tears came to her eyes.

"Y/N..." Dean said again and lightly touched her upper arm.

"I don't want to forget you." She now said what she had been caring around with her since the morning.

Dean pulled her into his arms and now had to hold back his own tears. He had been trying not to think about it the whole time, but now he couldn't ignore it anymore. And while he was trying to keep his emotions in check, he didn't notice how Y/N put a small piece of paper in the breast pocket of his shirt. Even if she didn't know if it would do any good, she at least wanted to try.

Then Dean took her by the shoulders and released Y/N from the hug so that he could look her in the eyes.

"Listen to me." and Y/N looked him in the eyes without saying anything. "I will find you. I promise you that."

And that was enough to make Y/N cry. So Dean pulled her back into his arms and shed a few tears himself. After they both calmed down, they separated from each other but still holding each other's hands.

"I love you!" Y/N said in a weak voice and Dean grinned.

"I love you!" He said too and then they turned to the table.

A moment later, Y/N spoke the words of the counterspell and threw the last ingredient into the bowl. They both looked at each other again before a purple wave of energy hit them and everything around them went dark.

"Y/N? Y/N!"

With a groan, Y/N opened her heavy eyelids and immediately recognized the excited voice of her best friend Jane. She felt as if she had slept for a hundred years without ever really resting. She slowly sat up and let Jane hug her warmly.

"Thank God you're finally awake again. That stupid witch put a spell on you! Unfortunately, I killed her too quickly before I knew what the spell was. But it was so strong that I don't think she could do it alone. How are you? How are you feeling?"

"I think I'm doing quite well. It's just that my body still feels so heavy."

"Fortunately." exclaimed Jane and hugged her friend again. "But something is strange." she then reflected.

"What?" Y/N asked.

"How were you able to free yourself from the spell? I was at my wits' end three days ago and haven't tried anything else until now."

Now Y/N was taken aback. "I have no idea. I don't remember anything."

A/N: Yeah, there is nothing else to say here. Let me know what you think. Feedback is very much appreciated! 💜

@lyarr24 @k-slla @chriszgirl92 @aylacavebear @thebiggerbear

[nebuladreamerrr]

What about those ideas? You won’t post them anymore? I want to read the dad fic so bad 😭🥰

https://www.tumblr.com/nebuladreamerrr/754189019746910208/hiiiii-i-have-several-ideas-in-mind-and-although

I hope you enjoy it a lot, I had a lot of fun writing this, and I tried to do it differently, adding many more details. I think it's the story I like the most out of the ones I've written so far 💗💗💗

Fine line| Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

Summary: After three long years of constant changes and persistent fears, Kylian feels ready to show his son to the world, but he will not hesitate to jump and defend his family if anyone attacks them.

Warnings: English is not my first language, and mentions of a kid suffering from blindness

You couldn't help but feel a wave of emotion as you dressed your son to attend his dad's match. The Real Madrid stadium was gearing up for an epic night, and the thrill of seeing Kylian on the field was always indescribable. However, this time it was even more special. Not only because Kylian was in his best form and ready to fight for the Champions League title, but because Jayce, your little one, would be there to witness it.

Ever since you told Jayce, just two weeks ago, that he could go to the place where his dad worked, he hadn't stopped talking about it every chance he got. He wore the Real Madrid jersey in every possible situation, even while sleeping, and practiced singing the anthem for when the match started. His enthusiasm was contagious, and every time he talked about his dad, his words reflected a mix of admiration and love.

It seemed incredible that the little Mbappé family hadn't set foot in the stadium to cheer on the footballer in almost three years. This had fueled numerous breakup rumors in the media, as you had always supported Kylian, not only by going to the club's stadium but also by traveling to different countries to be his "lucky charm." However, when little Jayce was born, everything changed.

Kylian adored his son, and it showed in every daily interaction he had with him. From teaching him to walk, to making video calls when he was away so Jayce could hear his voice while hugging the personalized stuffed toy shaped like his father. Gradually, Kylian was instilling all the values that would make Jayce a great man. But Kylian was terrified that someone might harm his little boy. He knew all too well how the journalists and the press operated, and they wouldn't hesitate to hurt his son just to get to Kylian.

Since the beginning of your relationship, Kylian had always been overprotective, fearing that the press might overwhelm you or that the crowds might drive you away from him. However, he slowly discovered your strong personality and understood that you could handle those problems on your own. But Jayce was still too young to face all those challenges, so, as his parents, you had to protect him.

From the moment Kylian found out you were pregnant, he had been dreaming about the day he would meet his son: how tall he would be, how much he would weigh, whether he would look more like you or him. Although doubts sometimes crossed his mind about what would happen if something went wrong, he always found comfort in the fact that you had a great team of professionals by your side and that you were a strong woman capable of achieving anything you set your mind to.

The delivery seemed to go smoothly, and everything appeared to have been a success until they began examining little Jayce. Initially, they noticed that he was barely opening his eyes. They thought it might be due to the strain of the birth or that the light might be bothering him, but as days passed, Jayce seemed to have problems with his eyes. It was then that they discovered the little one was blind.

You had never expected to have a child with a disability, but you knew you would love him with all your heart. However, it pained you to see how Kylian felt guilty about everything. He couldn't help but feel responsible for the criticisms his son might face for being his son, for being the center of attention even if he didn't want to be, and for always standing out. Through tears, Kylian confessed that he preferred to keep his son away from the public eye, and crying, he begged you to forgive him for complicating your lives.

During these past three years, you had learned not only how to be a mother—deciphering what your son needed when he cried, what stories Jayce preferred, and how to find the perfect balance between motherhood and your professional life—but also to be the emotional support and rock for Kylian during this time, especially in the most difficult moments.

At first, it seemed like Kylian was sinking deeper and deeper. His joy was fading, consumed by worry and sadness. However, the start of the new season was a breath of fresh air for him. The adrenaline and passion for football allowed him to release all those pent-up emotions, and Jayce's first year of life became the year Kylian was crowned the league's top scorer. This achievement was not only a milestone in his career but also a crucial step in his emotional recovery.

Gradually, Kylian learned to manage his emotions and realized that he couldn't let fear and external pressures dictate his decisions. He learned to be the best dad possible for Jayce, accepting that raising his son wouldn't be as he had imagined, but also discovering that he wouldn't change it for the world. He loved how Jayce would touch his face to get to know his features, and how he would get excited about doing chores like setting the table on his own. These small moments showed that Jayce was a strong child and that in the future, he would be as independent as any other kid.

Undoubtedly, one of Kylian's most cherished memories with his son was when he started teaching him how to play football. He bought special balls with sand inside, which allowed Jayce to locate them by sound and feel as they moved. With these balls, Jayce learned to kick and score goals that filled his father with pride. Each time the little one scored, Kylian's joy and pride grew, strengthening their bond and giving him another reason to keep going.

These years hadn't been easy, but they had strengthened your family in ways you never imagined. The challenges had been numerous, but love and determination had prevailed, showing that together you could face any adversity. Now, as you dressed Jayce for the match, you felt a mix of pride and excitement. You knew that no matter what, your family would always find a way to move forward, and today was a celebration of that indomitable spirit.

After making sure you had everything you needed for the match, like snacks for Jayce and various toys, you decided to drive to the stadium. Kylian had informed the club in advance about the importance of this day, asking for his family to feel comfortable and well taken care of. So, when the security staff noticed that you had arrived by car, they didn't hesitate to help and guide you through the stadium, giving Jayce a team scarf and small stickers. The little one, grateful, responded with a huge smile.

Upon reaching the designated box, you showed Jayce around. Kylian had commissioned a relief recreation of the stadium's silhouette so Jayce could always know where he was, the tunnels leading to the field, and the goals where his father would dedicate a goal to him that night. Additionally, some wives of Kylian's teammates came over to greet and meet mini Mbappé, who was delighted to chat and meet new people.

Shortly before the match started, Kylian came up to the box to give you a final kiss and to encourage Jayce, promising to make him very proud. His presence and words filled the air with emotion.

"I am so proud of how you’ve evolved and how we’ve grown as a family," you whispered before giving him a warm kiss of encouragement.

"I couldn't have done it without you, mon amour," Kylian replied with a smile.

As you watched Kylian return to the field, you felt a wave of pride and love. This match was not just a sporting event but a symbol of the journey you had traveled together as a family. Kylian, Jayce and you had faced challenges that had strengthened you, and now you were ready to enjoy this special moment together.

Jayce settled into his seat, stroking the team scarf with a smile as you explained the details of the stadium that he explored with his hands. Every goal, every play, every moment of the match held special meaning, and you knew this night would be etched into your family’s memory forever.

In the 37th minute, Mbappé scored a goal that not only made all the Madrid fans leap to their feet but also brought Real Madrid closer to lifting that long-awaited Champions League trophy, especially significant since it was being held at their home stadium. Right after scoring and celebrating with his ecstatic teammates, Kylian headed toward a camera, blowing a kiss and pointing to the box where you were sitting. What surprised you the most was hearing over the loudspeaker: "Kylian dedicates this goal to his family and especially to his son Jayce." Kylian had taken care of every detail to ensure his son felt loved and understood what was happening.

“Send lots of kisses to Daddy,” you whispered to your son as he enthusiastically blew kisses into the air. Although Jayce couldn't see, Kylian was on the field, returning those kisses.

As the match progressed, Madrid focused on defense. Both teams tried to create chances, but neither managed to score another goal. However, this didn't dampen Madrid's spirits as they became Champions League winners once again.

You couldn't help but take out your phone to record, filled with emotion, as Kylian looked for you with his eyes. Your little one was jumping with joy when you told him to say hello to Daddy, who was looking for him. Tears welled up as you watched Kylian and the team lift the trophy they had fought so hard to win. While you saw Kylian joke around, dance with his teammates, and even sing chants with the fans, you decided to give him his space to enjoy his moment, taking the opportunity to explain to Jayce everything that was about to happen.

“Now we’re going down to celebrate with Daddy, okay?” you said, giving him a little kiss on the cheek.

Jayce nodded enthusiastically, clutching your hand as you prepared to head down to the field. The security staff, aware of the situation, kindly guided you through the stadium, ensuring everything went smoothly.

When you reached the edge of the field, the roar of the crowd and the glow of the spotlights created a magical atmosphere. Kylian, seeing you approach with Jayce, ran towards you with a smile that reflected pure happiness. He bent down to hug Jayce, lifting him into the air as the little boy laughed and reached out to touch his dad’s face.

“We did it, mon petit champion!” Kylian exclaimed with an emotional voice, kissing Jayce’s forehead.

“Yes, Daddy, we did it,” Jayce responded, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and joy.

The night turned into an unforgettable celebration, with Kylian sharing his triumph not only with his teammates but with the people he loved the most. As you held Jayce, you watched Kylian lift the trophy once more, feeling that all the effort and sacrifice of the past years had been worth it.

No matter how many times you had imagined this moment, this day had exceeded your expectations by far. Beyond the incredible athletic performance and talent that Kylian had demonstrated once again, your little one had immensely enjoyed this day. There were memorable moments, like when you took a photo with the trophy where Jayce sat inside it, or when Kylian lifted him up so he could touch the goal where he had scored the goal dedicated to him. Jayce had also enjoyed the company of the children of his father's teammates, who had animatedly talked with him and held his hand the whole time.

After many celebrations, cheers, and chants, Florentino Pérez carefully approached Kylian to ask if he could give a few quick words to some television channels. Although Florentino promised that he could ask someone else, understanding that it was a very important day for him, Kylian knew it had to be him who spoke. Not only because he had scored the winning goal or because he was the star player, but because many people were surprised that he had decided to introduce his son today.

Kylian nodded, taking your hand for a moment before heading towards the group of eager journalists. "Take care of our little champion," he said with a smile, kissing Jayce on the forehead and giving you a peck before walking away.

You and Jayce watched from a safe distance as Kylian took the microphone. The journalists started shouting his name to get an exclusive, and the cameras focused on him. "This goal is for my family, especially for my son Jayce," Kylian began, his voice resonating with a mix of pride and emotion. "Today is a very special day, not only because of the victory but because I could share it with the people I love the most. Jayce is an incredible, strong, and brave child, and he inspires me every day to be better both on and off the field. And y/n shows me every day how lucky I am that someone as wonderful as she has decided to spend the rest of her life with me."

The crowd applauded enthusiastically, and many journalists congratulated Kylian, commenting on how Jayce seemed like an intelligent child and was the spitting image of his mother. However, suddenly, a question echoed above all: "Aren’t you ashamed to have a child like that?"

The ensuing silence was palpable, and the atmosphere tensed. Kylian stood still for a moment, processing the insensitivity of the question. However, his expression hardened with determination and calm.

"Did you really just ask that crap?" Kylian responded firmly. "I often criticize the work you do and try to put myself in your shoes, understanding that you are paid to get exclusive news and that often you do things you don't want to. But what you just asked shows your lack of tact and poor education. Jayce is my son, and I am incredibly proud of him. His bravery and spirit are a constant source of inspiration for me. There is nothing to be ashamed of, although if you are a father, I wouldn’t doubt that your children have reasons to be ashamed of you. In fact, having Jayce in my life has taught me more about love, strength, and resilience than anything else. He is an incredible child, and anyone who cannot see that is the one who should feel ashamed."

Kylian's words were met with even louder applause, and many journalists nodded in respect and admiration while booing the other journalist, who couldn’t help but leave embarrassed, trying to hide his face.

From your position, you felt full of pride and gratitude. The way Kylian had handled the situation with dignity and love was a testament to his character. Jayce, although unaware of the full significance of what had happened, seemed to pick up on the positive energy around him, and his face lit up with a smile.

When Kylian finished his brief statement and returned to you, the crowd was still applauding. "You did great, Daddy," Jayce said as he hugged him.

"Thanks, champ," Kylian responded, returning the hug with strength.

[alotofpockets]

Christmas plans | Katie McCabe

Pairing: Katie McCabe x Arsenal!Reader

Prompts: "Is that a hickey?"

Warnings: Mention of reader not having a good relationship with their family, small mention of anxiety.

A/n: Despite the prompt and the warnings, this is overall just a very fluffy fic!

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 2.8k

All around you your teammates were sharing their Christmas plans. You were stretching before training, and the conversation about winter break came up, and everyone was excitedly sharing their plans to visit their families. You dreaded the moment you would be asked about your plans, because opposed to all their excited plans with family, you had no plans of your own. The reason you weren’t going to visit your family during the holidays is because you don’t have a good relationship with them. Since you were still rather new at Arsenal, not many of your teammates knew about this part of your life, though.

Inevitably the question was thrown your way by Lia. Your long time Ireland teammate, and best friend, noticed the panicked look in your eyes, and answered before you had the chance to. “Y/n, is joining me for Christmas. We’re going to stay with my family for a couple days.” You were grateful that the conversation continued after Katie’s response. You had known Katie for years, having met at the U17 team, she had been there for you almost every time that something surrounding your parents had happened.

After training you’re the last one in the dressing room with Katie, the perfect moment to thank Katie for her cover up. “Of course, anytime. You should actually come though.” With a furrowed brow you look back at her. “Oh no, it’s fine. I can just stay home. It’s a family holiday, I don’t want to intrude.” Katie packs the last of her stuff into her backpack, “I think you've spent enough time at the house to be considered family.” It's true, you had spent a lot of nights staying at the McCabe's when things got bad with your parents. “Mom loves you more than she loves me anyways, I know she would love for you to join us. Plus, I think it would be really nice.” So, like that it was settled, you were joining the McCabe’s for Christmas.

Gary was there to pick you up from Dublin Airport. You greeted him with a quick hug, before putting both your own and Katie’s suitcase in the trunk, letting Katie have a moment with her dad. The drive to their place wasn't long, so in no time you were hugged by the rest of the McCabe family that was currently home. “It's so good to see you, Y/n! I'm glad you could join us for Christmas.” Katie's mom excitedly shares, making you feel welcome instantly. “I wasn't sure where you preferred to sleep, I can make up the couch, Gary can set up an air mattress, or I can ask one of the kids that won't come home until Christmas eve if you can take their room for the time being? I'm afraid that the guest room is currently occupied by quite a mess, as we've been renovating a bit.” Katie goes in to hug her mom as well. “Don't be silly, mom, we can just share my room.” She looks your way to see if you're okay with that too. “Yeah, I'm fine sharing with Katie. What have you been renovating?” You knew that Gary loved showing off what he was working on. Like you expected he excitedly asked you to follow him, as he was pointing to everything he was planning on fixing. You listened full of interest, always having loved listening to people talk about what they are passionate about.

Meanwhile in the living room Katie gets questioned by her sisters. “So, does Y/n joining us for Christmas mean you guys are finally together?” Ella starts. “Y/n's here because she's my best friend. Also, what do you mean finally?” Her brow furrows slightly. “Come on, you can't tell me you don't like her more than that.” Lauryn continues, clearly sharing the same thoughts about the two of you as Ella. In response Katie just rolls her eyes and walks away, joining her mom in the kitchen. Leaving a smirking Ella and Lauryn behind, “She didn't deny it.” The two of them share a look, “So, we're definitely going to try to get them together before Christmas right?” 

“Already done with your sisters? You only just got here.” Sharon jokes with her daughter. “They're meddlers, I did not come here for that.” Katie jokes back, as she sits down with her mom. “Not to meddle but-” Sharon laughs at the warning look Katie sends her way, “I always thought the two of you would make a lovely couple. I want you to find your own way, though, and of course I just want to see you happy.” Not a minute later you walk back into the room, deep in conversation with Gary. Katie takes the moment to pull you away, bringing your suitcases up to her room, and settling in.

It was already late, so you and Katie decided to call it a night, getting some well deserved rest after a busy few months. The next day you planned to go shopping with Katie, insisting on getting her family members presents of your own and not just sharing the ones that she had ordered to her parent’s home over the past couple of weeks. 

You weren’t the biggest fan of shopping when a holiday as big as Christmas was coming up, with all the busyness that came with it but you wanted to get them something nice since they were opening up their home for you. Katie noticed the slightly panicked look in your eyes as you entered the mall, and reached for your hand. You squeeze it appreciatively, before intertwining your fingers with hers. She guides you around the mall, entering all the stores you want to check out. Having Katie close by helped a lot with your anxiety, Katie always knew how to be there for you in any situation. 

When you got all the presents you wanted to get, the two of you settled in a little cafe. You were sipping on your hot chocolates, and watching the Christmas decorations around the mall, when two young girls walked up to you, accompanied by their mother. “Hi, we’re so sorry to interrupt but we were wondering if maybe my daughter's could take a picture with the both of you, they're big fans.”  Katie stood up and greeted them, “Yeah, of course you can.” She beamed. You stood up as well, giving each of the little girls a hug. The mom got ready to take the picture, as the girls moved to stand in between the two of you. Their wide smiles didn't falter when they stepped away. You took a moment to talk with the girls, before they went on their way again. The mom thanked you for making her girl's Christmases. Both you and Katie love meeting fans, the young ones especially, as it showed you that what you were doing was inspiring young children. 

On the way back Katie told you about one of the Christmas traditions her family had. “So, each year mum buys everyone a pair of Christmas pajamas, and we spend the evening watching Christmas movies.” You thought it was an adorable tradition. So much so that when you got back you had to fight to keep in your tears when Sharon let you know that she had placed pajamas for both you and Katie on Katie’s bed. You thanked Sharon before Katie pulled you towards her room, knowing how much you hated crying in front of people. Once in her room, you fall down on the bed. Katie sits down next to you, and you instantly reach for her touch by laying your head down in her lap. You let your tears flow freely, while she gently strokes your hair. “Do you want to talk about it?” Katie asks softly. “Just that your family is so loving, and they’re including me in all of it. I’m not used to that, and the difference is a lot. It’s really nice though, they’re making me feel very loved.” You lift yourself up from Katie’s lap, “Anyways, we should head down.” Katie shakes her head, pulls you into her side, and falls down onto her back, pulling you along with her. “They can wait for a little bit.” You try to protest but when Katie doesn’t give in, you relax into her. Your head now on her chest, as she continues to play with your hair. 

Once you feel ready to head downstairs, your eyes finally land on the pajamas that Sharon picked out. A pair of matching red flannel pants, along with two simple black t-shirts. You both change into the outfits quickly, before joining the festivities downstairs. The family pilled down in the living room, the table filled with snacks, and the first Christmas movie started playing on the TV. It doesn’t take long for you to snuggle into Katie, who instantly wraps her arm around you. The moment not going unnoticed by Ella and Lauryn, who share a knowing look.

The next morning you head downstairs in your matching Christmas pajamas for family breakfast. Today the family had plans to go to a nearby Christmas market, play some board games, and in the evening you and Katie were planning on going on a Christmas light walk. You had seen an ad for the event in the mall, and were very excited to go.

Right as you walk through the door post, Lauryn says, “Katie, what's that above you?” Katie looks up and you follow her gaze. You didn't see the warning look that Katie sent her sister's way. “Why is there a mistletoe?” Both Lauryn and Ella try to hide their giggles, while Ella says, “It's a Christmas tradition to kiss someone under the mistletoe, so I assume it is to spread the holiday joy.” with a slightly teasing tone. Katie looks back over to you, searching your face for what she should do. “We don't have to, if you don't want to.” You lock your eyes on Katie's, “I mean it's bad luck if we don't, right?” You joke back, sending her a smile and a nod, letting Katie know you're okay with it. Katie leans in and pecks your lips. “So, breakfast?” Katie says as she quickly turns around again, hiding her flushed cheeks from you.

Your morning and afternoon were jam-packed with family activities, and while you loved every part of it, your mind kept going back to Katie’s lips on yours. How soft they were, and how badly you wanted to kiss her again. Though, you had convinced yourself that for Katie the kiss was probably just for the tradition of it. You couldn't have been more wrong though, Katie badly wanted to talk to you about the kiss, but she hadn't been able to get you alone for a single moment today. 

The first moment the two of you were alone that day, was on the way to the Christmas light event. The car ride itself was quiet besides the radio softly playing in the background, both of your minds running at full speed. Katie parks the car, and right from the parking lot you could already see lights all around you. While you were slowly turning to take in all of the beautiful lights, Katie’s eyes were fixed on you. “What?” You say while a blush rushes to your cheeks, when you notice Katie’s eyes on you. The usual confidence of the girl in front of you, replaced by nervousness. “Nothing, it’s stupid.” She says trying to turn away but you grab her arm and pull her back around. “If you’re thinking about it, it’s not stupid.” You seemingly convinced her as she took a deep breath. “Would you have kissed me if we weren’t standing under a mistletoe?” The question takes you by surprise, as you had convinced yourself that it was just you lingering on the moment you had shared this morning. “Nevermind, forget I said anything.” Katie turns on her heels again, thinking she had her answer by the lack of your response. The action makes you jump into action, once again reaching for her arm. This time you don’t just use the pull to turn her around, you also use it to bring her closer to you. You lean in and connect your lips, smiling into the kiss, as you feel Katie kiss back. The feeling of her soft lips moving in sync with yours sent shivers down your body, while simultaneously making you feel warm inside. 

After you pull away from the kiss, you look at Katie and see the Christmas lights reflect in her eyes. “In case that didn’t answer your question properly, that meant yes.” You joke, making her laugh. She playfully pushes you away, before stepping besides you again to intertwine your hands. You spend the evening walking around the lit up city center, enjoying every moment together. 

You arrive back at Katie’s childhood home way past midnight, so the house is already quiet. She pulls you into the warmth of the home by your hand, only feeling you resist when you walk through the doorway to the living room. She follows your eyes up to the mistletoe under which you shared your first kiss. Katie takes a step back to stand in front of you, and wastes no time to connect your lips. The kiss started out soft and sweet, but quickly turned more passionate. Katie pulls away from the kiss breathlessly, “To be continued.” She says as she takes your hand once more and guides you to her room.

The next morning you wake up in Katie’s arms, a feeling you would like to never forget. “Good morning, beautiful.” Katie whispers as she places a kiss on your forehead. A wide smile forms on your face, “Good morning.” After sharing a few soft kisses, you get ready for family breakfast. The food each morning had been amazing, you were so excited for what Christmas would bring. 

Lauryn asked if both of you wanted to join her on the pitch that afternoon, which of course you agreed to. It might be winter break, but football was a passion you would always take a moment for. You had been on the pitch for about an hour, when Katie decided to take her jacket off. "Is that a hickey?" Lauryn said loud enough for the whole town to hear. Katie sends a panicked look your way, you shrug your shoulders, knowing there isn’t anything you can do now besides mouthing a sorry her way. Lauryn followed the interaction, her smile growing wider. “Oh my god, it so is! I gotta tell Ella that her mistletoe idea worked.” Katie chases after her youngest sister, tackling her to the ground before she could reach her phone. “You and Ella are a pair of meddlers.” She said, shaking her head, as she helped Lauryn up. “It worked didn’t it? Mum’s gonna love this.” You watched the interaction with a smile on your face, realizing that her whole family was rooting for the two of you together. 

On Christmas Eve the rest of the McCabe siblings, along with their partners and children joined you at the McCabe’s, and it wasn’t long before they all knew about you and Katie. You were nervous at first, not wanting the dynamic to change, but quite the opposite happened. They were happy for the both of you, and continued to treat you as family, like they had done the past couple of days. 

All in all it was a wonderful Christmas with her whole family, lots of presents, amazing food, and company from the loving family. Katie was watching you interact with her cousins with adoration in her eyes, she couldn’t wait to continue creating memories together. The family got together for a series of group pictures. You took a couple of the McCabe siblings, and some of them all together with their parents, as well as Sharon taking individual ones of each of her children with their partners, and kids if they had them. 

Katie later posted a collection with her favorite ones, along with the caption ‘Family time❤️🎄’. She added the picture Sharon took of the two of you, where you have your arms around her waist, as she places a kiss on your cheek. You posted the ones you were on to your own Instagram with the caption, ‘Thank you for the best Christmas ever❤️’. 

It didn’t take long for the Arsenal group chat to explode upon seeing your posts. You were laying in bed with Katie, scrolling through the loving messages your teammates were sending your way after Katie confirmed that the pictures indeed meant that you were her girlfriend. That night you went to bed feeling happier than you had ever felt. Truly a high to end the year on.

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[doctorbitchcrxft]

Croatoan | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ? ;) )

Warnings: implied suicidal ideation, canon violence, canon gore, medical stuff lol

Word Count: 6176

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Sam had another vision; one involving Dean killing some dude strapped to a chair. Apparently, the dude had been begging, saying, “It’s not in me!” 

‘What’s not in him, though? A demon? THE demon?’ you thought as he relayed his story.

“Well, I’m sure he had good reason,” you told Sam when he was finished.

“Well, I sure hope so—”

“What does that mean?” Dean grunted.

Sam didn’t reply.

“I mean, I'm not gonna waste an innocent man,” he scoffed.

Sam raised his eyebrows at his brother.

“He wouldn’t, Sam,” you stated, your tone warning.

“I never said he would!”

“Sure seemed implied,” you commented.

“Look, we don't know what it is,” sighed Sam. “But whatever it is, that guy in the chair's a part of it. So let's find him, and see what's what.”

“Fine,” Dean said.

“Fine,” said Sam.

The rest of the drive to Crater Lake, Oregon, was done in silence. 

***

You pulled into the small town of Rivergrove along the main strip of small businesses and homely apartment complexes. Most of the shops almost looked like wooden cabins, and you approached a man sitting under one of the wooden overhangs cleaning a rifle. 

“Morning,” Dean called.

“Good morning. Can I help you?” He turned to you.

“Yeah.” Dean pulled out his badge. “Uh, Billy Gibbons, Frank Beard, Kymberly Herrin. U.S. Marshals.”

The man furrowed his brows. “What’s this about?”

“We're looking for someone,” he answered.

“A young man, early twenties,” added Sam. “He'd have a— a thin scar right below his hairline.”

The man seemed surprised. “What’d he do?”

“Well, nothing. We're actually looking for someone else, but we think this young man could help us,” Sam replied. 

“Yeah, he's not in any kind of trouble or anything; well, not yet,” Dean chuckled. He looked down at the intricate tattoo on the man’s forearm. “I think maybe you know who he is… Master Sergeant.” He smiled. “My dad was in the Corps, he was a Corporal.”

“What company?” the man asked.

“Echo-2-1,” Dean replied, smiling proudly. 

Sam got back to business. “So, can you help us?”

The man hesitated before talking again. “Duane Tanner's got a scar like that. But I know him. Good kid, keeps his nose clean.”

Dean nodded. “Oh, I'm sure he does. Um. You know where he lives?”

“With his family, up Aspen Way.”

“Thank you.”

You bumped into a telephone pole as you and the brothers headed back to the car. You looked down at it, and something caught your eye. There was a single word etched into the pole: “CROATOAN.” You brushed your fingers over the etching. “Guys, look.”

“Croatoan?” Dean read.

“Yeah.”

Dean looked at you blankly.

Sam gave him a look. “Roanoke? Lost colony? Ring a bell? Dean, did you pay any attention in history class?”

“Yeah! Shots heard 'round the world, How bills become laws…” Dean trailed off.

“That's not school, that's Schoolhouse Rock,” Sam scoffed.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Anywho,” you cut back in. “Roanoke was one of the first English colonies— late 1500s-ish?”

“Oh yeah, yeah, I do remember that,” Dean said excitedly. “The only thing they left behind was a single word carved in a tree. Croatoan.”

“Yeah. There were theories,” you continued. “Native American raid, disease, famine, but nobody really knows what happened. They were all just… gone. Wiped out overnight.”

Dean cocked his head to the side. “You don't think that's what's going on here, I mean—”

Sam cut him off with a sigh. “Whatever I saw in my head, it sure wasn't good. But what do you think could do that?”

“Well, I mean, like I said, all of your weirdo visions are always tied to the Yellow-Eyed Demon somehow, so…” Dean trailed off.

“We should get help. Bobby, uh, Ellen maybe?” Sam suggested.

“Good idea,” you said. You pulled out your phone to call Bobby, only to discover you had no signal. “Great. No signal.”

The two brothers took their phones out as well. 

“Huh, me neither,” said Sam. 

“Nada,” Dean stated.

“Payphone, maybe?” you tried, leading the boys over to one. Unfortunately for you, all you heard was a beeping to signify no signal. “Line's dead.” You hung up the phone.

“I'll tell you one thing. If I was gonna massacre a town, that'd be my first step,” Dean noted, pointing at the payphone. 

***

You pulled up in front of a homely, slightly tacky cabin. Sam rapped his knuckles against the door, and almost immediately, a teenage boy opened it.

“Yeah?” he grinned.

Dean flashed his badge. “We're looking for Duane Tanner; he lives here, right?”

“Yeah, he's my brother,” the boy nodded.

“Can we talk to him?”

He sucked in air through his teeth. “Oh, he's not here right now.”

“Do you know where he is?” Dean pressed.

“Yeah, he went on a fishing trip up by Roslyn Lake.”

“Your parents home?” Sam questioned.

“Yeah, they're inside,” the boy nodded.

“Jake?” a voice called. ‘Oh, that’s his name.’ “Who is it?”

Dean spoke as the owner of the voice appeared. “Hi, U.S. Marshals, sir, we're looking for your son Duane.”

Mr. Tanner seemed confused. “Wh— Why? He's not in trouble, is he?”

“No, no, no, no. We just need to ask him a couple of routine questions, that's all.” Dean flashed a winning smile.

“When's he due back from his trip?” questioned Sam.

“I'm not sure.”

“Well, maybe your wife knows.”

The man’s eerie smile was far too cheerful for the current conversation. “No, I don't know, she's not here right now.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Your son said she was.”

Jake seemed caught. “Did I?”

This whole thing was weirding you the hell out.

“She's getting groceries,” Mr. Tanner smiled. “So, when Duane gets back, there's a number where he can get a hold of you?”

“Oh, no,” Dean said. “We'll just check in with you later.”

The three of you turned back down the steps, and you waited to talk until you heard the door close. “That was kind of creepy, right? Little too… Stepford?”

“Big time,” Dean replied.

You headed around the back of the house, ducking down to avoid being seen by the Tanners. You caught sight of a poor woman with mussed up blonde hair tied to a chair sweating and crying. You cocked your gun as Dean kicked in the door, and you quickly shot Mr. Tanner in the chest when he tried to charge you with a knife. You turned to Sam and Dean who were over by the window.

“He got away,” Dean grunted, referencing Jake who had leapt out of the window.

“Great,” you sighed. You turned your attention back to the woman in the chair and noticed a profusely bleeding wound. “Dean, start the car. Sam, get her to the backseat. I’m gonna patch her up as best I can til we can get to a doctor.”

The boys nodded and rushed to do your bidding. You rushed to the trunk of the Impala and pulled out your makeshift first aid kit— a collection of wraps, bandages, antiseptics, antibiotics, sutures, sewing needles, thread, and painkillers you gathered from random pharmacies and kept in a small, vintage tin box with roses etched into the lid and occasionally refilled. You hurriedly got in the backseat with the woman, and you kept her conscious by asking her questions about herself. You learned her name was Beverly, and that her two sons, Duane and Jake, went fishing and hunting together all the time. Her first sign that something was wrong was that Jake didn’t go with his brother on the trip. After her hiccups mourning the death of her husband— for which you profusely apologized to her— and hissing in pain as you kept pressure on her wound, you finally arrived at a small clinic on the main stretch of road. 

You held the pressure on her shoulder as you led her into the clinic, yelling, “Doctor! We need a doctor!”

A young woman in a pleasant floral jacket and cute pink headband came rushing out, concerned. “Mrs. Tanner, what happened?” she asked the woman on your shoulder.

“She’s been attacked,” you explained, hurrying past her.

“Dr. Lee!” the young woman called.

The doctor instructed you to head down the hallway into an examination room. You gently placed her down on the bed, and Beverly moaned as you shifted position around her to continue holding her shoulder. The doctor came into the room moments later followed by Sam and Dean, who stood at the doorway. You filled the doctor in on the medical history you’d gathered from Mrs. Tanner on the way to the clinic, and the doctor immediately set to work stitching the wound. You tossed the tattered and bloodstained jacket Mrs. Tanner had been wearing into the garbage and washed your hands up to your elbows. 

Beverly began to explain what happened to the doctor, who seemed shocked. “Wait, you said Jake helped him? Your son Jake?” the doctor asked.

Beverly nodded. “They beat me. Tied me up.”

“I don't believe it,” the young nurse breathed out. 

“Beverly… do you have any idea why they would act this way? Any history of chemical dependency?” Dr. Lee questioned.

“No, of course not. I don't know why. One minute they were my husband and my son. And the next, they had the devil in them.” Beverly shook as she spoke.

You walked out into the hallway with Sam and Dean.

“Those guys were whacked out of their gourds,” Dean commented.

“Ya think?” you snorted. “And what I don’t understand is, if they already beat and subdued her, why put that giant gash on her shoulder? That wound was fresh; like it happened this morning. Everything else seemed a few days old, at least.”

“Yeah, this whole thing is weird, man,” Sam added. “What do you guys think? Multiple demons, mass possession?”

“If it is a possession there could be more. I mean, God knows how many, it could be like a friggin' Shriner convention,” Dean grumbled. “Of course, that's one way to wipe out a town, you take it from the inside.”

“I don't know, man. We didn't see any of the demon smoke with Mr. Tanner, or any of the other usual signs,” Sam reminded his brother.

“Well, whatever. Something turned him into a monster. And you know if you woulda taken out the other one, there'd be one less to worry about,” the older brother chided.

Sam huffed, “I'm sorry, alright? I hesitated, Dean, it was a kid!”

“Boys, relax!” you scolded, standing between them.

Dean looked over your head at Sam. “No, it was an ‘it’. Not the best time for a bleeding heart, Sam.”

“Dean,” you murmured harshly. 

Dr. Lee stalked out of the lab, heels clicking loudly on the floor to let the brothers know it was time to stop arguing. 

“How is she?” you asked her.

“Terrible! What the hell happened out there?” she questioned.

“We don't know,” Dean shook his head.

“Yeah? Well, you just killed my next door neighbor.” Dr. Lee crossed her arms over her chest.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you told her. “All of us would’ve been dead if I hadn’t.”

“Maybe so, but we need the county Sheriff. I need the coroner —”

Sam cut her off. “Phones are down.”

“I know, I tried. Tell me you have a police radio in the car?” Dr. Lee pleaded.

“Yeah, we do. But it crapped out just like everything else,” Sam said.

The blonde ran a hand through her hair and began to pace. “I don't understand what is happening.”

“How far is it to the next town?” you asked her.

“It's about forty miles down to Sidewinder.”

“Alright, I'm gonna go down there, see if I can find some help. You’re coming with me.” He looked down at you before clapping Sam on the shoulder. “My partner 'll stick around, keep you guys safe.”

“Safe from what?” Dr. Lee questioned pointedly.

“We'll get back to you on that,” Dean responded. He then led you away from Sam and Dr. Lee and out to the Impala.

“What’d you do with Mr. Tanner?” you asked him.

“He’s in the lab somewhere. Man’s heavier than he looks,” he joked as he began to drive off.

“Dean, I killed him,” you mourned. “He was just a guy. Now, his two sons don’t have a father. He was a person.”

“(Y/N), since when are you all morally gray?” Dean questioned gently. His usual bite behind his sarcasm was missing. “I get it, but he wasn’t ‘just a guy’ anymore.”

“I know that,” you said. “That’s what I’m starting to get worried about. Normally, I wouldn’t think twice. Vamps used to be people. Hell, one of my first vamp kills was my parents. I don’t know what’s happening to me, man. I don’t hesitate— hell no— but… I don’t know.”

“Hey, I get it.” He reached across the seat and grabbed your hand. “I’m a straight shooter, too. I’m in the same place you are.”

You scooched across the bench seat and kept your hand entwined with Deans, playing with his fingers. You leaned your head on his shoulder, and he pulled your hand up to his lips and kissed it, eyes never leaving the road. 

“Things keep getting weirder, dude. Since when do we second-guess?” You tried to muster a laugh, but your heart wasn’t in it.

“I know. This whole thing is spinnin’ out of our control. I hate it,” he admitted. 

“Yeah, me, too,” you murmured. “I wish we could’ve met under normal circumstances.”

He chuckled. “Hm. Me, too.”

The rest of the drive was spent hand in hand and silent. You continued to play with Dean’s fingers and kept your head on his shoulder. Only when you saw two cars blocking the road and men standing with their large guns drawn did you pull your head up. Dean’s grip on your hand tightened— whether to reassure you or himself, you weren’t sure— as he rolled to a stop. You noticed one of the men in front of you was the teenager from the Tanner house, Jake. He stopped the car, frowning. Something banged on the roof of the car, making both you and Dean jump. His hand never left yours, and he shifted his body toward the man leaning down into the window almost protectively in front of you. “Oh-ho-ho. Hey,” Dean awkwardly laughed.

“Sorry. Road's closed,” the man at the driver’s side window grinned.

“Yeah, I can see that. What's up?” Dean questioned.

“Quarantine,” was his simple reply.

“Quarantine? Why?” you asked. Dean stiffened and tried to hide you more with his body when you spoke.

“Don't know,” the man tsked. “Something going around out there.”

“Uh-huh. Who told you that?” Dean asked, sass lying just below the surface of his tone.

The man’s face was blank when he responded. “County Sheriff.”

“Is he here?”

“No. He called. Say, why don't you get out of the car and we'll talk a little?”

Dean laughed nervously. “Well, you are a handsome devil, but I don't swing that way, sorry.”

“I'd sure appreciate it if you got out of the car, just for a quick minute.” The man’s stoicism was beginning to drop, and the anger bubbling just below the surface was becoming visible.

“Yeah, I'll bet you would.” Dean released your hand to quickly throw the car in reverse. The man grabbed his collar and held on for dear life as you tried your best to pry his fingers off. Thankfully, Dean swung the car around, finally cutting the man loose, and sped away. The sound of guns firing at the car filled your ears, but none of the bullets seemed to be hitting their desired target.

“You okay?” Dean asked you, throwing you a worried look.

“Yeah,” you heaved. “You?”

“Peachy,” he grunted.

Suddenly, the ex-military man you first met in town stepped in the path of the Impala, brandishing a rifle.

Dean slammed on his brakes, and you put your hands on the dashboard to steady yourself.

“Hands where I can see 'em!” the man yelled.

“Son of a—” Dean grumbled, holding his hands up. You did the same.

“Get out of the car! Out of the car!” he commanded.

You slowly slid across the seat to the passenger’s side door as Dean started climbing out. You took the opportunity of your hands being hidden behind the door to quickly whip out your handgun.

“Drop the gun!” you ordered.

“Put it down, now!” the man yelled back at you. “Are y’all part of 'em?!” 

“No!” Dean answered. “Are you?”

“No!”

“You could be lying!” Dean protested.

“So could you!”

“Alright! Alright,” you broke in. “We could do this all day, alright? Let's just, uh, let's take it easy before we kill each other.”

The sergeant relaxed slightly. “What's going on with everybody?”

“I don't know,” you admitted.

“My neighbor— Mr. Rogers, he—”

Dean interrupted the man. “You've got a neighbor named Mr. Rogers?”

“Not anymore,” the man responded gruffly. “He came at me with a hatchet. I put him down. He's not the only one, I mean, it's happening to everyone.”

“We’re heading over to the Doc's place, there's still some people left,” Dean explained.

“No, no way. I'm getting the hell out,” the older man stated.

“There's no way out, they got the bridge covered, now come on,” the older Winchester said.

“I don't believe you,” the man replied.

“Fine, stay here, be my guest.” It was then you noticed Dean was pointing a handgun at the man, too, who hesitated before walking over to the backseat of the Impala. He swapped his rifle for a handgun as he stooped down into the backseat, and you kept your gun trained on him over the back of your seat. The older man kept his gun aimed at you, but his eyes would frantically flick to Dean every now and again.

Dean looked between you and the man and put his gun away to be able to drive back to the clinic. “Well, this ought to be a relaxing drive.”

You pinned the sergeant to his spot in the backseat with a hard glare and your gun on him. He returned your glare and pointed gun the whole way to the clinic. Despite your aching arms, you refused to falter. “What’s your name?” you asked him, still on your guard.

“Mark.”

“Mark. Nice to meet you, Mark,” you smiled despite your situation.

Dean slowed to a stop in front of the clinic, and you and Mark mutually agreed to relax your guns. 

“Sammy? Open up!” Dean banged on the door to the clinic. 

Sam appeared at the glass a few moments later and allowed you inside. You kept your gun cocked and in your hand but pointed at the floor. 

“Did you guys, uh, get to a phone?” Sam questioned, looking between the three guns you were all brandishing.

“Road block.” Dean turned to Mark. “I'm gonna have a word. Doc's inside.”

Mark looked between the three of you, hesitating, before heading inside.

“What's going on out there, guys?” Sam asked.

“Man, I don't know, I feel like Chuck Heston in the Omega Man. I mean, Sarge is the only sane person I could find. What are we dealing with, do you know?” Dean questioned.

“Yeah. Doc thinks it's a virus.”

Dean snorted. “Okay, great. What do you think?”

“I think she's right.”

“Really?” Your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Really,” Sam answered. “And I think the infected are trying to infect others with blood-to-blood contact. Oh, but it gets better. The, uh, the virus? Leaves traces of sulfur in the blood.”

“Cool. Demonic virus,” you deadpanned.

“Yeah, more like demonic germ warfare,” Sam added.  “At least it explains why I've been having visions.”

“It's like a Biblical plague,” noted Dean.

“Yeah. You don't know how right you are, Dean. I've been poring through Dad's journal, found something about the Roanoke colony,” Sam began. “Dad always had a theory about Croatoan. He thought it was a demon's name. Sometimes known as Deva or sometimes Resheph. A demon of plague and pestilence.”

Dean laughed humorlessly. “Well, that— that's terrific. Why here, why now?”

“I have no idea. But Dean, who knows how far this thing can spread? We gotta get out of here, we gotta warn people—”

Before any of you could speak, Mark called from the back of the clinic, “They've got one! In here!”

Dean entered the room behind Sam. “What do you mean?” he asked Mark.

“The wife. She's infected,” Sam explained.

“We've gotta take care of this. We can't just leave her in there. My neighbors, they were strong. The longer we wait, the stronger she'll get,” Mark urged.

You hesitated, but only for a moment, before brushing past Sam and Dean into the lab with your gun drawn. 

“Whoa!” the sweet nurse from earlier exclaimed. “You're gonna kill Beverly Tanner?”

“Doctor, could there be any treatment? Some kind of cure for this?” Sam pleaded.

“Can you cure it?” You turned toward Dr. Lee.

“For God's sake, I don't even know what ‘it’ is!” she cried.

“I told you, it's just a matter of time before she breaks through,” Mark told you.

“Just leave her in there, you can't shoot her like an animal!” the young nurse said.

You slowly walked over to the door of the utility room Beverly was being held in. You, Dean, and Mark held your guns steady on the door. Sam carefully opened it to reveal Beverly huddled on the floor in a corner, crying into her knees. She jumped as you approached. “Mark, what are you doing? Mark, it's, it's them!” She pointed at you, Dean, and Sam, who stood over your shoulder. “They locked me in here, they— they tried to kill me! They're infected, not me! Please, Mark! You've known me all your life! Please!”

“You sure she's one of 'em?” Dean asked, looking at his brother. 

Sam nodded. Mark pulled back, looking distraught, and you took the opportunity to step forward. 

In an attempt to hear as few of her cries for mercy as possible, you quickly fired one shot square between her eyes. Guilt immediately clawed at your throat, and you thought you could throw up. You stowed your gun and crouched beside her crumpled form. You moved her into a less disturbing configuration, laying her on her back with her arms crossed over her chest. You closed her paralyzed, open eyes and brushed through her hair with your fingers. With the back of your hand, you wiped your own eyes and stood, leaving the room and shutting the door behind you. 

Choked up, you pushed past a concerned Sam and Dean and headed out to the car. You grabbed your duffel bag to have some reason for going outside from the trunk when you heard a sound from down the street: a car approaching. Your breath caught, and you ducked behind the wall of the clinic’s entrance; back pressed to it. You peeked out briefly to see Jake was the one driving the car with the man who had tried to kill you and Dean earlier. Soundlessly, you slipped back inside the building and turned the lights at the entrance off. 

You locked both the door to the entrance and the door to the waiting room behind you, hurriedly pulling down the shades and turning off as many unnecessary lights as possible. You turned the light off in the waiting room and stormed into the lab where everyone was huddled together. You pulled down the shades behind Dr. Lee wordlessly.

“(Y/N/N)?” Sam asked gently. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re here. Everybody, get yourself a weapon from my bag if you know how to use one. Don’t grab one, get injured, and then get infected, got it?” you ordered.

Sam nodded and grabbed your bag from you. He threw you your bowie knife and pulled a hunting knife from the duffel for himself. 

The young nurse, who you learned was named Pam, dropped a vial of blood, and she screamed. “Oh god! Is there any on me? Am I okay?”

Dr. Lee tried to calm her down. “You're clean, you're okay.”

“Why are we staying here? Please, let's just go!” Pam cried.

“No, we can't because those things are everywhere,” Dean stated firmly.

Pam began to sink to the floor. “Oh god!—”

“Hey, shh, shh,” Dr. Lee told her.

Sam turned to you and Dean who stood together by the lab’s entrance. “She's right about one thing,” he said just loud enough for the two of you to hear. “We can't stay here. We've gotta get out of here, get to the Roadhouse? Somewhere. Let people know what's coming.”

“Yeah, good point,” Dean nodded. “Night of the Living Dead didn't exactly end pretty.”

“Well, I'm not sure we've got a choice,” Mark cut in. “Lots of folks up here are good with rifles— even with all your hardware we're- we're easy targets. So unless you've got some explosives…” he trailed off.

You looked up at the shelf of medical supplies and turned to Sam. “You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

“Yeah, actually.” He grabbed a bottle of potassium chloride and waved it at you.

“I’m lost, what’s happening here?” Dean questioned. “Speak, nerds.”

You deadpanned at him. “Potassium chlorate bombs. I’ve gotta figure out a way to ionize the chloride and get some oxygen in it; otherwise, this’ll never—”

Your explanation was cut off by a loud banging on the door.

“Hey! Let me in, let me in! Please!” the voice called as you approached the door.

“It's Duane Tanner!” Mark announced. He opened the door to let him in, and you grabbed your gun in your jacket immediately.

“Thank god,” Duane breathed out, walking into the clinic. 

Mark locked the door behind him. “Duane, you okay?”

Dean quietly asked Sam, “That's the guy that I, uh—” he clicked his tongue.

Sam nodded, seeming shaken.

“Who else is in here?” Duane went to step into the lab, but Dean grabbed his arm.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy there, chief,” he said. “Hey Doc! Give Duane a good once-over, would you?”

Dr. Lee led your group into the lab. “Pam?”

Pam seemed to understand what that meant and moved to gather medical supplies.

“Who are you?” Duane asked Dean.

“Never mind who I am. Doc.”

Dr. Lee nodded nervously. “Yeah, okay.”

“Duane. Where you been?” Mark asked softly.

“On a fishing trip up by Roslyn. I came back this afternoon. I— I saw Roger McGill being dragged out of his house by people we know! They started cutting him with knives! I ran, I've been hiding in the woods ever since. Has anybody seen my mom and dad?”

Your heart squeezed in your chest and bile rose in your throat.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” Dean whispered to you. 

You could barely hear him over your heart pounding against your ribcage. You then noticed a deep gash in Duane’s left leg. “He’s bleeding.”

“Where'd you get that?” Dean interrogated.

“I was running, I must have tripped.” Duane’s cool tone was making it difficult to read whether he was infected or genuinely had no idea what was going on.

“Tie him up, there's rope in there,” the older brother ordered. You complied and dug the rope out of the supply closet.

“Wait—” Duane said, attempting to stand.

“Sit down!” Dean commanded, pointing his gun at Duane.

“I'm sorry, Duane, he's right,” Mark agreed. “We've gotta be careful.”

“Careful? About what?”

“Did they bleed on you?” Dean questioned, not answering the young man’s question.

“No, what the hell? No!” Duane frantically answered.

“Doc? Any way to know for sure, any test?” Sam questioned. You could tell he was trying to deescalate the situation before his vision came true. 

Dr. Lee sighed. “I've studied Beverly's bloodwork backwards and forwards.”

“My mom!” Duane cried.

Dr. Lee continued. “It took three hours for the virus to incubate. The sulfur didn't appear in the blood until then, so… no, there'd be no way of knowing. Not until after Duane turns.”

Sam looked over to his brother. “Dean, I gotta talk to you. Now.”

Dean looked over to you, and you nodded, standing up from where you’d tied Duane to the chair he was sitting in. You drew your gun and trained it on him while the brothers stepped out into the hall.

Dean reappeared a minute or so later.

“Where’s Sam?” you asked him.

He didn’t answer you. He simply cocked his gun and looked past you at Duane. Pam and Dr. Lee startled to their feet, chests heaving as they looked between Dean and Duane.

“No, you're not gonna—” Duane heaved. “No, no, I swear it's not in me!”

“Oh God. We're all gonna die,” Pam cried.

“Maybe he's telling the truth,” Mark tried.

“No, he's not him, not anymore.”

“Stop it! Ask her, ask the doctor! It's not in me!” Duane pleaded.

Dr. Lee shook her head and hesitantly looked at Dean. “I… I can’t tell.”

Duane began to sob. “Please, don't. Don't, please. I swear, it's not in me, it's not in me, I swear, I— I swear it's not in me. No, don't.”

Dean seemed to get choked up, too. “I got no choice.” 

You stared at him, eyes almost pleading him not to pull the trigger. However, you would also respect his choice if he did; you knew the risks. Dean trembled, hesitating, and finally lowered the gun. “Dammit,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. 

He left the room, and you followed. Dean let Sam out of the room he’d apparently locked his younger brother in wordlessly and kept stalking down the hall. Sam simply looked after him for a moment before turning back to the lab, but you followed Dean further.

He turned into a dark exam room at the end of the hall. You did so as well, making sure the curtains were drawn as tightly as possible before you flicked on the desk lamp. Dean sat in a chair while you sat in another, facing him. Neither of you said a word for a moment. 

“What made you stop?” you asked him.

He hesitated before answering. “Sam,” he replied simply. “And you.”

Your breath caught at his admission. “Me?” you asked, just loud enough for him to hear. 

He nodded, unable to meet your gaze. 

“Why?” you asked softly.

“Couldn’t let you watch me do that,” he muttered. “And… I want you to see me how I see you.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“I mean— You just— You remind me that there’s good out there. In all this crap. You make me wanna be better,” he admitted, gaze still pointed to the floor. 

You reached over and tilted his chin to face you with your index finger, forcing him to look at you. “Dean—”

He cut you off by surging forward to crush his lips to yours. You sighed into the kiss, winding your hands around his neck and threading your fingers through his hair. He cupped your chin with one hand and grabbed your waist with the other. You kissed once, then again, then one final time before simply resting your foreheads against each other’s. You nudged his nose with yours, eyes still closed, and he stroked circles on your hip with his thumb. 

The two of you were broken apart by the sound of a scream and two shots being fired off. You barely shared a look before sprinting toward the sound with your guns drawn.

“It’s Sam,” Mark told you. “He’s infected.”

Your jaw went slack at the sight of Sam on the floor with an open wound on his chest and Pam lying dead on the floor beside him.

“Oh, god,” you breathed out, turning to see Dean completely shocked and terrified.

*** Your group had Sam tied to a chair with a bandage over his wound. Dean was angry, and Sam seemed defeated. Your heart broke for both brothers and for the fact that you were gonna lose an amazing friend soon. 

“Nobody is shooting my brother,” Dean stated firmly.

Duane argued, “He isn't gonna be your brother much longer. You said it yourself.”

“Nobody is shooting anyone!” you shouted. 

“He was gonna shoot me!” Duane gestured toward Dean.

“You don't shut your pie-hole, I still might!” Dean grunted.

Sam’s sad voice caught everyone’s attention. “Dean, they're right. I'm infected; just give me the gun and I'll do it myself.”

“Fuck that,” Dean scoffed.

“Dean, I'm not gonna become one of those things,” Sam pleaded.

“Sam, we've still got some time—”

Mark cut Dean off. “Time for what? Look, I understand he's your brother, and I'm sorry, I am. But we gotta take care of this.” He pulled out his gun.

“I'm gonna say this one time— you make a move on him, you'll be dead before you hit the ground. You understand me? Do I make myself clear?!” Dean growled.

Mark’s face was set in hard lines. “Then what are we supposed to do?!”

Dean tossed Mark his kets. “Get the hell out of here, that's what. Take my car. You've got the explosives, there's an arsenal in there. You two go with him. You've got enough firepower to handle anything now. (Y/N), you go with them.”

“Dean, no!” you said. “I’m not leaving you!”

“Sweetheart, you have to—”

“No!”

“Guys, no. No. Go with them. This is your only chance!” Sam cried.

Dean turned to his younger brother. “You're not gonna get rid of me that easy.”

Mark chimed back in. “No, he's right. Come with us.”

Dean just stared at him.

“Okay, it's your funeral.” He led Duane and Dr. Lee out the door.

“Thank you, for everything,” Dr. Lee told you as she left.

“Don’t mention it,” you said halfheartedly.

She shut the door behind you, and Sam began to cry.

You were repeatedly surprised by Dean’s sense of play and slight immaturity at the grimmest of moments. “Wish we had a deck of cards, or a foosball table or something.”

“Don’t do this,” Sam pleaded. “Just get the hell out of here.”

“He’s right, (Y/N), you should leave,” Dean tired.

You crossed your arms and spoke with authority despite your soft tone. “Dean, we’ve discussed this already. I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“Give me my gun and leave,” Sam begged.

“For the last time, Sam. No,” Dean stated.

Sam slammed his fists against his chair. “This is the dumbest thing you've ever done.”

“Oh, I don't know about that. Remember that waitress in Tampa?” Dean shuddered.

“Dean, I'm sick. It's over for me. It doesn't have to be for you two,” Sam sobbed. “You can keep going.”

“Who says I want to?” Dean admitted.

“What?” you and Sam breathed out.

Dean pulled his handgun out of his waistband and put it on the file cabinet behind him. “I'm tired, Sam. I'm tired of this job, this life… this weight on my shoulders, man. I'm tired of it.”

Sam scoffed. “So, what, so you're just going to give up? You're just gonna lay down and die? Look, Dean, I know this stuff with Dad has—” 

“You're wrong. It's not about Dad. I mean, part of it is, sure, but…” he trailed off.

“What is it about?” Sam questioned.

A knock at the door broke the tense silence settled over the room. “You'd better come see this,” Dr. Lee called through the door.

You quickly untied Sam and brought him out to where Dr. Lee, Dean, Mark, and Duane were already gathered. 

“There's no one. Not anywhere. They've all just… vanished,” Dr. Lee explained.

“Croatoan,” you realized, looking over at the telephone pole opposite you.

***

Miraculously, the virus didn’t incubate in Sam’s blood. Strangely, when Dr. Lee looked back at the Tanner samples, the sulfur was gone, too. Confused and slightly uneasy, you and the brothers packed up the Impala. 

“Hey, the Sarge and I are getting the hell out of here, heading south. You should come,” Duane suggested to Dr. Lee.

“I'd better get over to Sidewinder, get the authorities up here. If they'll believe me. Take care,” she told them.

Mark waved to the three of you as well as Dr. Lee. 

“What about him?” Dean pointed to his brother.

“He's going to be fine. No signs of infection,” she grinned.

You turned to Sam.

“Hey, don't look at me. I got no clue,” he said.

“I swear, I'm gonna lose sleep over this one. I mean, why here, why now? And where the hell did everybody go? It's like they just fuckin’ melted,” Dean griped.

“Why was I immune?” Sam wondered aloud.

“Yeah. You know what? That's a good question. You know, I'm already starting to feel like this is the one that got away.” Dean walked around to the driver’s side of the car and pulled away from the town. His words hung ominously over the car for the remainder of your drive.

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