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lewmagoo · 1 month ago

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we own the sky | rhett abbott

part three: atmosphere

read the previous part here

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

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

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

pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader

word count: 13,768

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

“Let’s go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were there until you weren’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-I’m okay,” you promised.

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

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

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

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

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

Lightning splintered across the sky.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You closed your eyes. Three, two, one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Almost!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Copy!” Finn shouted back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally, you were done running.

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

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

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

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

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

“No shit?” Rhett was surprised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You ducked your head sheepishly. “Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

“Sounds good!”

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

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

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

The missing half of his heart had returned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing could ever take the charm out of the cowboy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Guess we should go inside,” you mumbled.

“Guess we should.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You offered support, moving to squeeze her hand. “Yeah, we’re all good. Still in one piece.”

The woman nodded solemnly, placing her restless hands on her hips. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re fine. Of course you’re fine. I’m sorry, I just…I lost my head for a bit there when we got home from church and I heard about the twister that hit near Coalgate. I thought…”

She trailed off, unable to voice it.

“S’okay, Ma. I’ll make sure my phone is charged next time, that way y’ can get a hold of me.”

Cecilia managed a smile. “Good. I’ll, uh, I’ll try not to act so hysterical about it next time.”

“You aren’t being hysterical,” you told her. “You’ve got every right to worry.”

“Uncle Rhett?!” Suddenly, Amy’s voice cut through the tension in the air, and the nine-year-old came rushing down the steps, her golden hair flying behind her shoulders.

Rhett turned just in time as the girl threw herself into his arms. He caught her with ease, lifting her off the ground. “Gramma said somethin’ might’ve happened! I was so scared!” She exclaimed.

“Hey now, nothin’ to be scared about. I’m fine,” he promised his niece, leaning back to brush her hair away from her face. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere, Ames. You’re stuck with me.”

She managed a giggle as he tapped her nose. “Good. I’m glad you’re alright.”

You watched the tender moment, and you couldn’t help the tears that welled in your eyes. He was so good with her.

When he finally let her go, he stepped back toward you, and you found yourself instinctively slotting yourself against his side in search of his safety and warmth.

Amy caught on immediately, and her face broke into the biggest grin you’d ever seen. “You are in love!”

This time, you grinned right back at her and said, “We sure are.”

As she jumped up and down and said, “I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!” you looked at Rhett. There was this beautiful fondness in his eyes that you never wanted to forget as long as you lived.

“You two want any hot cocoa?” Cecilia asked, a twinkle in her eyes, as if she’d always known you and Rhett would get back together. Perhaps it was mother’s intuition.

“Yeah, that sounds really good, actually,” you agreed.

“Ooh, can we put the colorful marshmallows in it?!” Amy inquired, hope in her voice.

“If you can find ‘em in the pantry!” Her grandmother told her, at which the girl scurried into the kitchen without missing a beat, eager to find the dyed confections.

As the pair busied themselves in the kitchen, you ducked out of Rhett’s embrace to take your damp shoes off. He followed suit, placing his boots on the rack near the door, lest his mother be frustrated with him for leaving them on the floor.

You ambled further into the coziness of the house, taking a seat on the tan upholstered couch that stood in front of the windows. The couch that converted into a bed for Rhett to sleep in each night.

“Is the mattress in this thing comfortable?” You asked as you settled in.

Rhett hummed, shrugging as he retrieved the old quilt from the back of the couch. “Yeah, I sleep fine on it.”

But surely it wasn’t as comfortable as his own bed. The one you had the luxury of sleeping in for the duration of your stay.

You could invite him to join you.

Was that being too forward? After all, you’d only just rekindled your romance. Was inviting him to sleep in the same bed as you moving too fast? Or would it be like simply resuming where you’d left off. When you were together before, you’d spent more time in his bed than your own. Being with him in his childhood home felt like a safe haven.

It still felt like that. Though, he was part of what made it feel like home. Without him here, it was just a house. A mere building. But bring him into the picture, and there was warmth, safety, and security.

And that was why you thought about inviting him into bed with you that night. You yearned to feel the comfort of being wrapped in his arms as you slept.

Dare you ask him to join you in bed that night?

“Do you guys want whipped cream?” Amy abruptly called from the kitchen, jarring you from your thoughts.

“Please!” Rhett responded. You echoed his answer, letting out a breath as you shook your thoughts of longing away.

He took a seat beside you, spreading the quilt he’d just grabbed over both your and his laps. Immediately, you were surrounded by warmth, and you let yourself sink back into the couch cushions, breathing a sigh of relief as the tension you carried began to slowly melt away.

“Y’alright?” He asked, cadence low. “Been an eventful day.”

“I’ll say,” you agreed. “I’m okay. Just tired from the adrenaline crash.”

His knee bumped against your own. He left it there. “I know I already said it, but I’m proud of ya. I know facin’ that twister wasn’t easy.”

“Well, I know climbing back on a bull wasn’t easy for you, so I guess we’re even.”

He hummed, nodding his head. “Guess we are.”

Moments later, Amy and Cecilia entered the living room with mugs of hot chocolate, and soon, the four of you were huddled around the coffee table, enjoying the sweet, chocolaty drink as the rain continued on outside.

You let your walls down and embraced the domesticity of it all. For once, your body wasn’t in fight or flight mode, and you felt at ease. You could get used to this.

When it came time to prepare dinner, you volunteered to help Cecilia, but after she learned that you’d endured a tornado chase, she insisted that you rest.

“You’ve had enough activity for one day, hon. Y’ should take it easy,” she told you.

This left you to sit on the hardwood floor of the home office, with Amy across from you and Rhett beside you, a jigsaw puzzle littering the space between you. You were quite enjoying watching his large hands put each small, fragile piece into place with such precision and care.

He was so beautiful like this. Comfortable. At ease in his home, with his family. A life you had once dreamed of living with him. And now, you supposed it had become a dream of yours once more.

You could see yourself in the future. A quaint little home, just the two of you. A simple, happy life.

And that’s when you knew. Sitting there, watching him work on a puzzle on the floor, you knew everything was about to change. Your life was forever intertwined with his now, and you would be his until death did you part.

That thought didn’t scare you. It filled you with so much hope, rising up inside you like water from a babbling brook. It was a beautiful feeling.

Later that evening, as you sat around the dinner table, you were beside him, shoulders touching, stealing glances at each other throughout the meal. Things felt lighter now. The tension was gone.

“You two finally quit beatin’ around the bush?” Royal asked. His expression was neutral, but his eyes swam with humor.

Rhett squeezed your knee under the table. “Yeah. We did.”

“Good,” the older man said, nodding in approval. “She’s a good one, like your ma is. Don’t lose ‘er this time.”

The man beside you let his mouth quirk into a soft smile. “I won’t.”

“He’s stuck with me,” you agreed, placing your hand over his, which still rested upon your knee.

Soon after, when supper was finished, and the dishes washed, you found yourself in the living room again, curled up on the couch with Rhett by your side. Amy pleaded with her grandmother to let her stay up just a little later, despite her early wake-up call for school the next day, as she wanted to watch a movie with you and Rhett.

Cecilia made the exception, and it wasn’t long before the opening credits of Treasure Planet were playing. One of Amy’s favorites, Rhett informed you. But as the movie went on, you found your mind traveling elsewhere, hardly focused on the cartoon.

Instead, you were fixated on Rhett’s proximity.

Your head was resting upon his shoulder again, and he was perfectly content with that. This felt more intimate than when you’d fallen asleep on him in the truck. Here, you were settled into the comfort of his home, cozy beneath a quilt that his mother had made many years ago.

It reminded him of the movie nights you would have when you were teenagers. You would trade off who picked the film, and he would often choose ones set in the horror genre, just so you’d have an excuse to hide your face in the crook of his neck during frightening scenes.

Here and now, curled up on the couch with you snuggled against his side, he was overcome with a surge of protectiveness. There was no doubt in his mind that he would do whatever he had to, just to keep you safe.

“Looks like someone fell asleep.” Your whispered statement pulled him from his thoughts, and he glanced over at the floor near the television, where Amy had fallen asleep. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed. The movie was nearly over.

Rhett hummed. “Guess I should take ‘er up to bed,” he murmured.

Reluctantly, he rose from the couch, instantly missing your warmth. Stretching his extremities, stiff from sitting for so long, he stepped across the rug covered floor and stooped to gather his niece into his arms.

She barely stirred as he cradled her close. He had this down to a science now. He was always good at making sure he didn’t disturb her sleep whenever he had to carry her to bed.

From the couch, you watch with fondness as he handled her gently. He took her upstairs, stepping into her room and laying her in her bed. When the covers were pulled over her, he ducked down to kiss her forehead before he crept back out of the room and shut the door behind him.

As he did so, the sound of thunder rumbling through the distant skies reached his ears. Yet another storm was blowing through, it seemed.

When he made his way back downstairs, he found you in the living room still, folding the quilt that had been strewn over your lap. He watched you for a moment, taking in the sight of you tidying up the room. Oh, how effortlessly beautiful you were.

When you caught him staring, you ducked your head shyly. “Thought I’d make myself useful and clean up a bit,” you said.

“Mm,” he hummed, lashes fluttering.

The way he was looking at you took your breath away. “Did you, um, get Amy to bed alright?”

“Yeah, she’s still out like a light,” he told you.

“Good. I love how she insisted on staying up later, and still fell asleep,” you responded with a good-natured smile. Kids were funny.

“She always does that,” he agreed, “an’ every time, I carry her upstairs.”

“You’re good with her. She loves you,” came your next statement, tone full of fondness.

Rhett ducked his head. “I love ‘er too. She’s a special li’l gal. Ever since Perry and Bec died…I dunno, I’ve just felt responsible for her.”

“Well, she’s lucky to have an uncle like you.”

His cheeks rounded as he smiled, and your heart clenched in your chest. He was truly so endearing.

A moment of silence passed. Then another. The air between you was heavy, as if both of you wanted to say something, but were hesitating. You knew what you wanted. It was right there, on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak it.

Another crack of thunder rolled outside, and you jumped slightly, caught off guard. This seemed to push you to speak. “Well, I…I guess I’ll head up to bed.”

You swore you saw disappointment flash in Rhett’s eyes, but it was gone within a split second. “Yeah. Yeah, ‘m sure you need the rest after the crazy day we had.”

“Uh-huh. I’m pretty beat.” You padded across the rug covered floor, your arm brushing against Rhett’s as you passed. As if on cue, a flash of lightning illuminated the house, followed by the loudest crash of thunder you’d ever heard. The force of it rattled the entire house.

Both of you jumped, and you found yourself surging into his arms on instinct, holding your breath as you waited for the residual rumbling to pass. When it was quiet, you looked at each other, and you began to laugh silently.

“Jump scared by thunder,” Rhett mused with a grin, “didn’t see that one comin’.”

Your hands rested atop his chest, where you could feel the quickness of his heart. “Me neither,” you agreed.

Slowly, your gaze flickered to meet his. His eyes narrowed slightly, and his mouth parted as he took in a breath. As another flash of lightning lit up your surroundings, something shifted between you. Warmth in your belly. Desire in your heart.

When your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, he knew what was going to happen. So did you. That was why you weren’t surprised with yourself in the least when you heard yourself say, “Do you, um…do you want to come upstairs?”

He leaned in, mouth just barely brushing against your own. “I do.” More than anything.

You let your eyes flutter shut as his lips captured yours. You swore, you knew exactly what it felt like to be a lightning bolt when he kissed you. Bright and alive, thrumming with raw energy.

“Please, I…” What were you asking for? Your tongue suddenly felt like lead in your mouth, and you couldn’t form syllables around it.

Rhett sighed softly, his large hand coming up to rest upon the side of your neck. There, he felt your racing pulse, and his eyes widened. “I know, honeybee. It’s been so long, hasn’t it?” His tone was choked. Labored.

Your bottom lip quivered as you were suddenly so overcome with emotion you could hardly breathe. To your dismay, the only sound you could make in reply was a whimper. But, oh, if only you could have photographed the face Rhett made when he heard the sound.

His brow furrowed, and his jaw went slack. You swore his eyes grew darker.

“C’mon, let’s get you upstairs.” He took your hand in his and led you slowly up the steps, your footfalls light so as not to alert the entire house of your movement.

With each moment, the closer you got to Rhett’s room, the faster your pulse raced. He guided you inside, carefully pushing the door shut behind you. You stood in the middle of the room as he moved to turn on the bedside lamp, swathing the room in a golden glow.

You jumped slightly as yet another boom of thunder shook the ground, but Rhett was there within seconds, hand soothing along the expanse of your arm. He hooked his index finger beneath your chin, prompting you to look at him.

“Y’ want me to stop, just say the word, and I will.”

But you didn’t want him to stop. “O-okay.”

He kissed you again, languidly, lovingly, but with the mounting intensity of the storm outside, as well as the one currently brewing between you, it soon grew into something more. You parted your lips and allowed his tongue into your mouth, tasting each other.

Your hands rested upon his solid chest, and his own settled on your hips as he eased you back toward the wall. When you came in contact with the solidity behind you, you gasped.

You were cornered, surrounded by him, his scent, his body heat. He invaded your every sense. And when his hands came up to rest against the wall at either side of your head, you felt so protected.

His chest heaved slightly against yours, and he closed his eyes, gathering himself before he leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Then the edge of your jaw. Down, down, down, to your collarbone. The bite of his day-old stubble against your flesh made you shudder, and you felt goosebumps raise in his wake.

Tongue and teeth oh so gently grazed your pulse point, and he buried his face there, breathing in your scent. How was it that you still smelled the exact same after all this time? It wasn’t just your perfume. It was your entire chemical makeup, a scent so intoxicating it made him weak in the knees.

“Can I take this off?” He asked, cadence low, fingers curling into the hem of your shirt.

“Please.”

He lifted the fabric, tugging it off of you as you lifted your arms to allow him to remove it entirely. He took in the sight of you, in just your bra. You expected to find hunger in his eyes, and it was there, but there was something else. Deep adoration. Reverence. It made you feel as if you were going to dissolve into stardust.

Feeling much too clothed, he decided to join you, leaning back to yank his shirt off, letting the fabric fall to the floor in a heap.

In the lowlight, you caught sight of the tattoo of a bull and rider inked into the skin of his chest. Lovingly, you brought your fingers up to trace over it. You remembered so vividly the day he got it. You were there with him.

Silently, you leaned forward, kissing the artwork. His breath caught in his lungs, and his lashes fluttered. You used to kiss that tattoo all the time. Especially when you were riding him.

And then your tongue darted out to trace it, and he audibly gasped. Moments later he was pulling your face toward his again, kissing you deeply, desperately, teeth grazing your bottom lip.

You were both a little frenzied as you pulled at each other’s remaining clothing. You unbuckled Rhett’s belt and he glanced down to watch you tug his jeans down his legs. Once he’d kicked them to the side, leaving him in a pair of blue boxers, he unbuttoned your own jeans, gazing up at you as he guided the denim toward your ankles.

He squeezed your calf, and you lifted one leg, then the other, to step out of the pants. The only thing keeping you from being entirely exposed to him was the thin fabric of your underwear.

You watched through hazy eyes as he began to kiss up your leg and along your inner thigh, palms resting upon your hips. When he made it to your underwear, he looked right at you as he kissed your clothed pussy, at which you moaned breathlessly.

“Wan’ see this sweet li’l pussy. Will you let me see her, darlin’?” His accent had grown deeper with the rasp of his voice. It swam through your head and sent shockwaves through your extremities.

“Y-yes.” You weren’t sure how you found it in yourself to speak.

“Yeah?” Cautiously, he began pulling the underwear down your legs. Slow, slow, slow, all the way down until he reached your ankles. Once you stepped out of them, he was finally greeted with the sight of you.

Deft fingers came up to part your delicate folds, touch featherlight as he began to explore. He was pleasantly surprised to find that you were already soaking wet.

“Can’t tell ya how much I missed this. How much I thought about you the last few years,” he admitted before he leaned toward you, running his nose along your inner thigh before he left another kiss to your now bare cunt.

Your knees nearly buckled, and he’d barely touched you.

“You…you have?”

“Uh-huh.” His tongue darted out to taste you, and his eyes flickered shut. He’d be the first to admit that he’d conjured up images of you when his hand was wrapped around his aching cock. Your softness, your pretty sounds, the feeling of your slick warmth around him. He’d spill his release against his lower belly as he moaned your name into the confines of his bedroom.

“I-I’ve thought about you too,” came your confession. Your head was spinning.

“Oh really? You touched this pretty cunt while thinkin’ of me?”

“God, yes.”

Hearing you admit it had him twitching with need within the confines of his boxers. What he wouldn’t give to be inside you again.

“S’much as I wanna eat you until you come all over my face, I think I need t’ be inside ya. Been too long.”

He rose to his feet, and he grasped your wrist, bringing your hand between his legs. You gasped at the feeling of his hardness. Had you forgotten just how thick he was?

As he kissed you again, you eagerly dipped your hand past the waistband of his underwear. When your fingers curled around his shaft, he grunted in surprise against your mouth.

Stroking him lightly, you took the opportunity to lavish affection on him, kissing along his jaw and neck as his cock grew even harder in your hand. Burying your face against the side of his neck, you took a moment to fully immerse yourself in the moment.

This was real. You were here. In the very bedroom where you’d given yourself to each other for the first time. Now, you were together again, giving yourselves to each other not for the first time, but for the last time. Not because it would never happen again, but because this was the moment that you were acknowledging that you were it for one another. A way of pledging yourself to him, a silent promise that there would never be anyone else.

It was you and him, for the rest of your lives.

“Take me to bed, baby,” you whispered against the feverish column of his throat.

How could he deny you?

With one arm holding you close, he guided you to the bed. But then he paused, brow furrowing. “Didn’t think this through,” he murmured. “The both of us ain’t gon’ fit on that bed.”

“We’ll fit fine, it’ll just be a tight squeeze,” you replied.

But he shook his head. “Nah. The way I wan’ lay you out and fuck you? I need more space than that.”

His words sent a shudder through you, but you still managed a playful quip in return. “Then what do ya propose, cowboy?”

“One sec.”

Then, he went around the room, gathering all the quilts from the rack on the other side of the room. He even yanked the covers off of the bed. You watched in amusement as he spread everything out on the floor, creating a makeshift bed, complete with pillows. It appeared to be a very cozy setup.

As soon as the last pillow was put in place, he straightened to his full height, gaze falling upon you once again. He reached for you, and you let him reel you in, guiding you toward him until your body was pressed against his.

His eyes reminded you of a feline’s, narrow and sharp. The warmth of desire glowed within them, drawing you in, sending shivers down your spine. With a loving kiss, he whispered, “Lay down for me, honeybee.”

Your mouth went dry, and your breath came out raggedly. But you complied, dropping to your knees and crawling toward the pillows, where you then laid your head. You watched, chest constricting, as Rhett pulled his boxers down his legs and tossed them aside.

His cock, hard and heavy, bobbed between his thighs, and you audibly whimpered. You had forgotten how thick he was. The memory of what it felt like to be filled by him flashed through your mind. The delicious stretch. The utter fullness.

Above you, he wrapped his hand around his shaft, stroking lightly as he stepped toward you. Then he knelt, and you still couldn’t tear your eyes away from that gorgeous cock.

“Look at me.” Quiet, yet commanding. Your eyes snapped up to his. “You gon’ let me make love to you, baby?” His hand traveled along your thigh, coming closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“Y-yes,” you peeped.

He smiled knowingly. “Need it so bad, don’t ya?” His voice was barely contained, trembling as he moved to hover over you. “I do too.” His fingers slid over your dripping center, and you gasped softly as they circled your little gathering of nerves.

Rhett moaned when he felt you pulse beneath his touch. As he dipped two of his fingers inside you, his mouth explored your chest, biting at the sensitive skin of your breast before he swirled his tongue around one pert nipple.

You whined as his mouth latched onto the sensitive bud, your hand coming up to thread through his dark locks. You hadn't realized how turned you were until that very moment. But you could feel it now, dripping around his fingers as you clenched around them.

"Rhett, please, I-" You didn’t know what you were asking for. Your mind was swimming. Hazy.

Hearing your pitiful begging had him looking up at you expectantly.

"What do you want, darlin’?"

"You. I need you. I-I can’t…I don’t…please, just…" God, you were spiraling with need.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” he soothed, tongue licking into your mouth before he slipped his fingers out of you.

You watched as wrapped his lips around the digits and sucked your desire off them. Your own mouth fell open at the salacious sight.

“Mm, tastes just as good as I remember.”

He was hovering over you again, bracing himself with his hands against the floor. His gaze was so intense, but you couldn’t look away. When you felt his hard cock against your inner thigh, you shivered in anticipation.

“Honey, I…I don’t have any condoms,” he admitted, voice wrecked.

Maybe it was foolish of you, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. Not when you were so close to having him inside you, skin to skin, after going so long without. You wrapped your arms around his neck and said, “I don’t care. Take me raw.”

Rhett grunted, jaw tightening, lashes fluttering as his pupils dilated. “Fuck. You’re gon’ be the death of me.”

You let your legs fall further apart, giving him full and complete access. But he hesitated, and you could see the wheels turning in his head. “Hold on a minute. I’ve got somethin’ that might be helpful.”

He moved over you, toward his nightstand. Curiously, you watched as he rummaged through the drawer, and moments later, he held up a bottle of lube.

“Thought I still had some of this.” He made his way back over to you, situating himself on his knees before you. “Wan’ make sure you can take it without me hurtin’ you.”

You watched as he carefully poured some of the lubricant onto his palm, and your breath hitched when he brought his hand down to his cock, coating it fully. In the soft glow of the lamp above, it glimmered on his skin.

But he wasn’t finished yet. He poured more of the liquid into his hand, warming it before he lovingly smoothed it over your pussy, prepping you further.

Then he knelt between your parted legs again, and your heart fluttered in your chest as he aligned himself with you. He slid through your delicate folds once, twice, then let his tip catch against your entrance, drawing a gasp of desire from you.

When he began to roll his hips forward, your back arched, and you squeezed your eyes shut, relishing in every last second. Inch by inch, he slipped inside you. Arms braced near either side of your head, he held himself steady, grunting lowly as your velvety walls enveloped him.

As he bottomed out, he let his head fall to your shoulder, where he remained for a few moments, gaining his composure.

He couldn’t speak. If he tried, he knew his voice would fail him. He’d been rendered utterly speechless as he let it all sink in. This was real. He was here, now, on the floor of his childhood bedroom, with you laid bare beneath him.

For a few moments, you were both still, adjusting to the feeling of him inside you. Tears pricked behind your eyelids, and you focused on breathing deeply. For the first time in a very long time, you felt at peace. Here, joined as one with him.

He lifted his head from your shoulder and kissed you softly before he broke the silence. “Y’ready?” He asked. Breathless.

Whining softly, you nodded. “Y-you can move.”

Another kiss was left against the corner of your mouth before he slowly pulled his hips back, inch by inch, before rolling them forward again. You let out a broken moan, suddenly so overwhelmed by him. He swallowed the sound, mouth open against yours as he drew back again, only to fill you up all over again. Your chest heaved. The tears in your eyes finally made their way down your cheeks.

The drag of his thick cock was so slow it was almost not enough, yet too much all at once. You could only focus on him. His comforting warmth, his familiar scent, the pleasured sounds rumbling deep within his chest.

Outside, the wind and rain wreaked havoc, but inside, you were safe, shielded by your lover, lost in the way he made you feel. You didn’t realize how much you’d truly missed him until this very moment. It hit you all at once, like a kick to the stomach, knocking the air out of your lungs.

Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, burying your face against the crook of his neck as he moved. You breathed him in. Earthy, musky, and so familiar. You wished to bottle up his scent so you could have it with you forever.

“Missed y’so much,” Rhett spoke, voice trembling. He leaned back so he could look fully into your face. When he saw your tear streaked face, he lifted his hand and lovingly wiped the tears away with his fingers. “Can’t believe you’re in m’ arms again.”

Then he was kissing you deeply as he picked up the pace of his thrusts, causing you to moan brokenly into his mouth at the feeling. You threw your head back as he built a rhythm. Back and forth, faster and deeper. You felt so indescribably full. He didn’t want to ruin that closeness, so he kept his movements contained, barely pulling his hips back, moving in a pulsing motion.

He was so deep that you could feel every ridge and vein of his cock, creating this wonderfully delicious friction within you. It took your breath away and made your head spin all at once.

You let your eyes fall shut and you whimpered as he kept rutting into you, stretching you, fulfilling your needs in ways you never could have imagined. This felt right. Your bodies joined as one. One soul. One heart.

“You feel so good,” you breathed, unashamed of the tears still streaming down your cheeks. “So good.”

Rhett could hardly utter a reply. He was breathless, his ever sense overwhelmed by you. Nothing else mattered. Here, on his bedroom floor, with you laid out so beautifully beneath him, he didn’t have a care in the world but you.

Again, he leaned back to watch you, in awe of the way you shivered and gasped, your body responding to him, releasing more of your slick around his cock. It sent a crackle of arousal through the base of his spine, and he pulsed inside you. You squeaked softly at the feeling, tightening around him.

He couldn’t resist stealing a glance at the place where your bodies met. His mouth fell open, eyes nearly rolling back. The sight of you stretched around him sent a jolt through him. “Takin’ me so well,” he sighed out. “Like you were always made to.”

You pulled his face back to you, urging him to meet your gaze. “I-I was,” you whispered in agreement. “I was made for you.”

“Yeah?” His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “You’re mine. Always will be.”

You tugged him toward you to kiss him again. “All yours.”

With one hand braced against the floor, he brought his other down between your bodies, fingers locating your swollen little button, so sensitive to his touch. You whined out his name, back arching off the floor. He purposed in himself that he was going to make you come before he ever did, because he wanted to feel the way your sweet pussy fluttered and clenched around him as you fell apart.

The sound you made as he swirled his fingers against you was music to his ears. The sweetest whimper he’d ever heard.

He kissed your tears away, a loving gesture that only served to bring even more tears down your cheeks.

As you looked up at him, you were overcome. It hit you like a ton of bricks, knocking the wind right out of you. You brought your trembling hands to his face, cupping his cheeks, committing every part of him to memory.

The love you felt for him was so deep, so intense, that you couldn’t put it into words. All you could do was cry. And you did.

He lowered his head, forehead resting against your own. He slowed down his pace just a little, and it made you feel impossibly closer to him. “Shh, I’m right here,” he soothed. “Don’t need t’cry, honeybee.”

“I-I-I just…I can’t believe I get a second chance with you.”

It was his turn to grow overcome with emotion. His eyes fluttered, and he let out a soft breath, nuzzling his nose against yours. “I know,” he whispered. His mouth was on yours, kissing you delicately, encasing you in love and devotion.

His hand had stilled between your legs, but he soon resumed his movements, fingers swirling as he kissed you. How was it that you could feel such deep emotion and pleasure all at once? It felt as if your body might explode into millions of stars from it all.

You wished that you were more eloquent. That you could find the words to tell him how you truly felt. But it seemed as if he already knew what was in your heart. Because it was in his, too. That all consuming love that he’d always had for you. Something that would never die.

Everything had taken on a new meaning. This wasn’t just the two of you making love on his bedroom floor. It was the joining of two wandering souls as one. And you gave yourself to him as he kissed you. Pouring every part of yourselves into that kiss.

You felt as if you might float away. And yet, there Rhett was, anchoring you, keeping you tethered to the earth. To him.

Beyond you both, thunder once again rolled across the night sky, your only reminder of the danger that lingered just beyond the walls of the Abbott home. It didn’t matter. None of it did. Not when you were sighing, trembling, weeping in his arms. Baring all the intimate parts of yourself to him.

You were climbing toward that peak now. Even as your tears fell and you cried softly against his mouth, a familiar, enticing heat had begun to spread through your lower abdomen.

Subtle at first, but soon, it began to spread throughout your extremities. From the top of your head to the soles of your feet. Rhett could feel it, too. The way you tightened and gushed around him.

“Oh, honey,” he sighed. “You’re close, ain’t ya?”

At which you nodded, bottom lip quivering.

“Poor thing. Don’t worry, I’ll get you there.”

You let him take control entirely. You both realized that although you’d been apart for so long, he still knew your body well. For him, it felt like getting right back in the saddle. Natural. Comfortable.

When he moved to switch positions, you let him, trusting him without question. He was gentle as he guided you up and into his lap, still nestled snugly inside you as he settled onto his knees.

You were face to face, chest to chest, hip to hip. Now, as he held you in his big arms, it felt all the more intimate, if that was at all possible. He cradled you as if you were the most precious thing to him. And, truly, you were.

“Move your hips with me baby,” he urged, voice a whisper against your heated skin, dancing across your collarbone.

With your arms strewn around his shoulders, you tentatively rolled your hips, and when it elicited a gasp from him, you were emboldened to build your own rhythm. There was nothing rushed or frantic about it. You simply took the time to enjoy each other’s bodies, as you climbed toward that glorious peak.

His hand was between your thighs again, fingers pressed against you, swirling firmly, deliberately. He kept his forehead against your own, eager to watch your face. God, you were the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. Your brow furrowed in pleasure, eyes going out of focus.

And it was all because of him. It made his chest swell with pride to know he was the reason you were overcome with bliss.

He kept his movements slow and even, so deep inside you that neither of you could tell where he ended and you began. You were certain that you would ache with emptiness once you parted, but for now, you were content to be in the moment and relish in the fullness.

However, you were quickly beginning to lose yourself. Part of you never wanted it to end. You wanted to stay like this forever, the electricity of desire crackling beneath your skin, along the base of your spine. And yet, you also wanted so badly to come for him.

“S’okay, honeybee,” he was struggling to form syllables, his breathing rushed. “Let go when y’need to.”

His lips were warm and open against yours, tongue laving at your bottom lip, asking for entrance, which you granted. Moaning into each other’s mouths, losing yourselves in the moment.

You expected your orgasm to hit you like a ton of bricks. Perhaps you’d have to bite down on his shoulder to suppress your scream so as not to wake the entire house. What you didn’t expect, however, was the opposite.

It didn’t hit you hard and sudden. No, it was gradual. Like the spark that started the wildfire. So small, yet able to grow into something so wild and unkempt. You felt it in your lower belly first. As if someone had taken hold of the very core of your being and tugged, like a rope being pulled taut. It wasn’t long before the delicious warmth began to spread further into your extremities.

You were a live wire, thrumming with electricity. “Rhett,” you heard yourself gasp, and you buried your face against the crook of his neck as you began to tremble.

He spoke again, but you couldn’t hear it over the rush of blood in your ears. The range of motion between you was so minimal, and yet it was sending you toward cloud nine. Slow, deliberate grinding, building and building and building until you knew you were too far gone to hold yourself back.

Then he was tilting your head back, hand cradling your neck as he sighed into your open mouth, “Come for me, sweet darlin’.”

And you did.

As it ebbed through you, you were engulfed in the most comforting feeling you had ever experienced. You locked eyes with him, and he watched in amazement as you unraveled. Your face contorted into an expression of raw, unabashed pleasure.

It ebbed and flowed through your body, rising to meet you like the warm waves of the ocean, heated by the summer sun.

And you smiled. A wide, blissful smile as you shuddered in his arms, wholly and utterly satiated. It was as if part of yourself had been missing and was now found. You felt complete and fulfilled in a way that mere mortal words could not describe.

As you floated down from your peak, Rhett was barely holding it together. With trembling hands you held his face and kissed him, rocking in his lap, knowing that he, too, needed to reach his end.

“I love you,” you gasped as you moved, shivering from sensitivity as your puffy center brushed against the base of him.

He let out a high-pitched keen, deep in his throat, and squeezed his eyes shut. “S-say it again,” he sighed, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

You picked up your pace, knowing he was almost there just by the pulse of him inside you. “I love you.”

This time, his head fell back, his mouth open to let out his broken moans. He was so close. It clouded his every sense, consuming his being. “Again. Please. Say it again.” If he wasn’t so wrapped up in the moment, he might have marveled at the tears that had begun to roll down his cheeks.

With one hand still holding his face, and your other arm now wrapped around his shoulders, you cried out, “I love you, I love you, I love you!”

His own hands immediately came up to grip your hips and he let out the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. A cross between a groan and a sob. He had to muffle it by hiding his face against your shoulder.

You felt it then. The warmth of his very essence spilling into the deepest part of you, claiming you, filling you to the brim. You took it all, slowing down until you finally rested still against him as he shuddered from the aftershocks.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed like that, bodies intertwined. After a while, you felt him begin to soften, and gravity took over as his spent cock slipped from the confines of your slick heat.

And oh, how empty you felt without him there to fill you. However, all at once, you were content. For the first time in a long time, you felt alive once again.

As the afterglow settled in, Rhett lifted his head and offered a sheepish smile. “Was that alright, honeybee?” The tips of his ears went pink.

You hugged him close. “It was everything I needed,” you replied with honesty, punctuated with a loving kiss to his lips. “You’re everything I needed.”

The look of pure adoration in his face made it all worth it.

You weren’t sure who initiated it, but soon, you’d switched positions and settled against the mound of pillows and blankets, with your head resting against Rhett’s chest, right over the place where his bull and rider tattoo was.

His fingers traced patterns along your spine, as your own fingers trailed absently over the expanse of his chest. You knew that you should eventually move and get cleaned up before you fell asleep like this, but neither of you wanted to break the spell.

Rain pattered gently against the window. It seemed that the storm had begun to fade, leaving behind a quiet, sleepy earth in its wake.

“Did’ya ever think we’d end up like this?” Rhett spoke into the comfortable silence of the room.

You hummed. “Before I came back, I didn’t.”

His fingers stilled against your back. “When did it change for you?”

“The night of the rodeo,” came your reply.

“For me, it was the first time I saw you after you came back. Brought all these feelin’s back that I tried to ignore. But then I held ya when you jumped outta the truck durin’ that twister. And then I, uh, saw you when you ran out the bathroom to grab a towel.” Mirth was in his tone as he said the last part.

You couldn’t help but smile. “God, I was so embarrassed about that,” you admitted.

“S’alright. Nothin’ to be embarrassed about.” He resumed the gentle patterns against your back with his fingers. “I sure am glad I got to see ya naked again, though.”

You lifted your head and slapped his chest lightly. “Hey now,” you scolded, humorously so.

His mouth curved into a good-natured smile. When he leaned in to peck your lips again, you eagerly accepted the kiss.

But it was soon time for the conversation to turn serious. Rhett’s lashes fluttered, his eyes growing misty.

“I gotta ask…what does this mean for us? Because I need y’to know, I’m serious about you. We ain’t two kids fresh outta high school anymore. If we’re doin’ this, I wanna do it right. I want to make this relationship work. But only if you want that, too.”

You let out a soft breath, absently tracing his chest tattoo. In your heart of hearts, you knew what you wanted. “I do want that. I’m not about to walk away from you again, I promise you that much. But I’ve gotta figure out what I’m doing with work. I don’t want to go through a long distance thing.”

His brow furrowed slightly as he placed his warm hand over your own, giving it a squeeze. “I could…I could move to Maryland with ya.”

You met his gaze. “You? Leave Wabang?”

“What? I could do it.”

“You’d hate the city, Rhett. You’d hate living in my one-bedroom apartment. I know you love this place and it’s where you’re happiest. You don’t need to sacrifice that on account of me.”

“Doesn’t matter where I’m livin’, as long as I’ve got you.”

Your heart clenched at his words, and you nuzzled your nose against his. “I’ll figure it out. But I want to make this work, more than anything.”

“So do I.” Rhett was willing to go to the ends of the earth, if it meant he got to be with you. If he had to move to the city to do so, then so be it.

For now, he was content to share this moment with you, bodies entangled on his bedroom floor. It reminded him of days gone by. And if only for a moment, he could close his eyes and go back to that time. When you were young and in love. When his brother was still alive. When life felt safe and hopeful, as if nothing bad could ever happen.

But it did happen. The bull riding memorabilia that currently surrounded you both was a reminder of what he’d lost when he took a horn to the gut. The first bitter taste of reality he’d gotten as a young man. Little did he know that just a few years later, he’d lose three of the most important people in his life, and that injury would feel like a mere paper cut compared to the agony of grief.

How far both of you had come since then. You’d conquered your fear of storm chasing. He’d conquered his fear of bull riding. And it had brought you both together again.

The truth was, you’d needed to go on your own respective journeys of healing so you could return to each other as better versions of yourselves.

“I guess we should get cleaned up,” your sleepy voice pulled him from his thoughts.

He smiled, lips brushing against your forehead. “Guess we should. I’m about t’ fall asleep on this floor, and I know I’m gonna regret it in the mornin’ when my back is fucked up.”

Reluctantly, you sat up, immediately missing his warmth as the cool air rushed over your skin. Rhett stood, his knees popping slightly as he did so, and he reached for your hand, pulling you up with him.

The evidence of your combined releases was slick against your inner thighs, and you were reminded of what you’d just done. The way he’d just made love to you. It sent a rush of warmth down your spine.

“I’m all wet,” you murmured shyly.

Rhett grunted softly. He could see the milky white glistening on your skin, and he had to avert his gaze, because he knew he’d wind up taking you all over again, and you were both much too tired to withstand another round.

“I…I can help clean ya up?” He offered with an earnest smile.

You decided to take him up on that, which led to you both sneaking across the hall and into the bathroom, where Rhett so lovingly wiped you clean. It reminded you of the past, where he had been so eager to learn how to care for you after sex. It had been a learning curve for both of you, being each other’s firsts. It had been such a special experience, one that you cherished to this day.

“Y’ready for bed now, honeybee?” He asked, once you were clean and had brushed your teeth.

You nodded, and together, you tiptoed back across the hall, feeling much like your teenage selves, trying not to get caught by Cecilia whenever you’d sneak into Rhett’s room in the middle of the night.

When you were safely closed into the confines of his bedroom again, you both scrambled to pick up all the pillows and blankets so you could settle into bed.

“Ain’t much room in the bed. Guess we’ll have to snuggle up real close,” Rhett said with a grin.

You stepped into his warmth, kissing his jaw. “I’m fine with that. Reminds me of all the times we used to squeeze into this thing together.”

Rhett was more than happy to have someone to cuddle up to again. His bed had been empty for far too long. And as he climbed beneath the covers that night, your body curled against his own, a sense of peace washed over him.

You nestled your head against his chest, and he felt a sense of protectiveness overcome him. He would watch over you while you slept. You were safe with him. You always would be.

When he fell asleep that night, his dreams were filled with flashes of your beautiful face, and he slept better than he had in years.

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#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott smut #rhett abbott fanfiction #we own the sky

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okay-j-hannah · 3 months ago

Text

Part 8: The Favor

Teen Wolf : Multishot

Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Word Count: 13.5k

Warnings: series rewrite, season 2 {aka 2011}, slow burn, friends to lovers, Stiles pining and depressed, usual teen wolf levels of violence and gore, heart conditions, talk of scars {good}, amnesia, finger picking, AGAIN ANGSTY AS HELL

Request: This just came from my own head 😊

A/N: Don't worry

100% recommend listening to rain sounds when you get to the end part where it's a thunderstorm.

Part 7: The Summer Filter

Part 8: The Favor {You Are Here}

“No, I’m sorry, who are you?” The look on your face sends a wave of hurt down Stiles. “How do you know my name?”

He’s gripping the steering wheel of the jeep, cruising with Scott and Allison in the car. Lydia had gone missing about twenty minutes ago, the police at the hospital taking witness statements and rallying an APB.

With you indisposed, the trio decide to take matters into their own hands. That doesn’t mean Stiles is free of the hurt. You really have no idea who he is.

“Alright, but if Lydia’s turning, would they actually kill her?”

Allison is fretful, “I don’t know. They won’t tell me anything. Okay, all they say is, ‘We’ll talk after Kate’s funeral when the others get here.’”

“What others?” Stiles looks in the rearview mirror.

“They won’t tell me that, either.”

Stiles sighs, “Okay, your family’s got some serious communication issues to work on.” He yells at Scott whose head is out the window, “Scott, are we going the right way?”

Scott sniffs the rushing air and says, “Take the next right!”

“This is really turning into a real shit night.”

Allison is chewing on her fingers, “(Y/N) really doesn’t remember us?”

“She’s lost her memory from the last few months,” Stiles bites the inside of his cheek. “She remembers last summer but doesn’t remember starting her job at the hospital. That means her memory stops around October of last year.”

“God…” Allison mumbles, “Did they say if her memory would come back?”

Stiles digs his thumb into the ridges of the wheel, “They called it retrograde amnesia, and there’s a chance the memory loss could come back if they treat the underlying cause. But the cause was an anoxic brain, and they just needed to oxygenate her body to fix that. I don’t…” he slams a hand against the wheel as Scott slides back into the car. “This is what happened to…”

“Happened to…?” Allison presses, but it was Scott who answers.

“His mom,” Scott’s voice was quiet and full of sympathy. “There were days she didn’t know who Stiles was.”

Allison looks mortified, “Stiles, I am so…”

“How close are we?” Stiles cuts in, jaw set.

Scott points toward the woods, “It’s coming from that direction. We’re definitely closer – the scent is stronger.”

“There’s no way she’s a werewolf, right?” Allison says in a shaky voice, an attempt to get past the topic of you. Clearly this expedition to save Lydia was a way to distract Stiles. “You said her bite didn’t heal.”

“I know,” Scott frowns, not-so-subtly looking over at his friend to gauge the hurt he was feeling. “Maybe it was a late reaction?”

“I don’t think so,” Stiles muses, tone a little rigid, “This has got to be something else. Peter made it clear that she either turns or she’s dead.”

Scott directs the jeep further into the woods, “Maybe we should try to get ahold of Derek?”

“I’m done being on speaking terms with psychotic alpha werewolves,” Stiles goes off road into the trees and leaf-strewn ground. “I want that guy out of here by the next full moon.”

“Do you think he’ll leave town now that he’s gotten his revenge?” Allison muses, eyeing the back of Stiles’ head just as much as Scott was looking. “He avenged his sister, right?”

Scott shrugs, “I wouldn’t be surprised if he wants to create a pack of his own.”

“And he can do that somewhere else,” Stiles scoffs, bouncing along with the jeep, “Go back to wherever he was the last six years.”

“(Y/N) wasn’t bitten, right?” Allison asks quietly.

Stiles is quick with the answer, “No, just… she was just thrown around a bit. No teeth action.”

“With all the supernatural stuff happening to us… hearing about (Y/N)’s heart problems just seems so – human, don’t you think?”

Scott gives his girlfriend a warning look, “Yeah, you’re right.”

“I think her memory will…”

“Can we drop the whole (Y/N)-amnesia thing?!” Stiles grumbles.

Allison is swift in her retort, “She’s my friend too, Stiles. I’m allowed to be worried about her just as much as you!”

“Let’s not do this right now,” Scott says in a louder voice. “Lydia’s scent is coming from there.”

Stiles parks the jeep, leading the way into the moonlit forest and the house far in the distance. The Hale House. He’s still grumpy as he asks, “She came here? You sure?”

Scott stands back with Allison, hands nearly touching, “Yeah, this is where the scent leads.”

They keep walking, “Alright, but has Lydia ever been here?”

Allison shakes her head, “Not with me. I don’t think with (Y/N) either.” She talks with Scott in hushed tones, “Maybe she came here on instinct, like she was looking for Derek.”

“You mean, looking for an Alpha.”

“Wolves need a pack, right?” she asks, “Would she have been drawn to an Alpha? Is it an instinct to be part of a pack?”

“Yeah, we’re stronger in packs.” They watch Stiles wander around the tree line, inspecting the area as he goes. “Like literally stronger, faster, better in every way.”

They could see the breaths coming from their mouths, it was so cold. Allison pulls her beanie over her ears, “That’s the same for an Alpha?”

Scott nods as something tightens around his ankle and lifts him into the air. Allison muffles a scream and backs away, watching her boyfriend be pulled toward a tree.

Stiles makes a funny choking sound, squatting on the ground and holding a black wire between his fingers, “Sorry, buddy.”

“Stiles, next time you see a tripwire… don’t trip it.”

Allison smiles, cheeks rosy from the cold, “Let’s get….”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Scott flails in the air, waving them off, “Someone’s coming. Hide!”

The pair of them jump into action, Stiles grabbing Allison’s arm to pull her back towards the woods. No sooner had their footsteps soften on the leaves as they hide behind a tree, did a group of hunters appear from the backside of the house.

“Oh, shit,” Allison mumbles into Stiles’ shoulder, “They probably thought about Derek too.”

“I can’t hear anything they’re saying,” Stiles bemoans, “This is stupid.”

Allison clutches his arm, “It’s going to be okay.”

In a quick motion, Stiles slams his head into the tree. Considering they were already pressed into it, the hit wasn’t that hard. “Things are anything but okay.”

~~~

The boys huddle into the locker rooms as Coach yells for them. Isaac fumbles with his equipment, joining the back of the pack.

“Quicker!” Finstock yells, “Danny, put a shirt on.” The coach prattles on, “Stilinski, that means you! Let’s go, gather round. Listen up.”

Isaac searches the office wall behind Finstock, looking for you. You were always near the Coach during team meetings, usually holding an energy drink or pointing out things Finstock failed to mention to the team.

But you are nowhere to be seen.

“Police are asking for help on a missing child advisory. It’s a sick girl, roaming around, totally naked.”

Isaac remembers how the Sheriff questioned him about the same advisory that morning when he reported the strange grave robbery at the cemetery.

“Now, it’s supposed to get below 40 degrees tonight. I don’t know about you, but the last time it was that cold, and I was running around naked… I lost a testicle to exposure. Now, I don’t want the same thing happening to some innocent girl. So police are organizing search parties for tonight.” The Coach brandishes a piece of paper and Isaac can visualize the rolling of your eyes at the poor delivery of the speech.

Finstock tapes the paper to his office window, “Sign up, find the missing girl, you get an automatic ‘A’ in my classes.” He smiles at the instantaneous cheers, but Isaac is of the few standing still.

He holds his duffel bag and looks for you again. There was no way you’d let Coach give students straight A’s like that. You were his voice of reason – the only way classes came out coherently and fairly graded.

A swarm of players rush past him, but Isaac lets his eyes roam until he finds Stiles and Scott. He knew you were friendly with those two, more so than him at least. He walks over to the boys at the shower entrance.

“Um… hey…” he says awkwardly, holding the strap of his bag with two tight hands.

Scott looks taken aback, but is friendly anyways, “Hey, Isaac.”

Stiles is a little more blunt, “What do you want?”

“I uh… I wanted to ask where (Y/N) was,” he wrings his hands, “Usually she’s at these team meetings.” He notices the way Stiles looks to the ground, letting Scott speak first.

“She’s still at the hospital,” he says calmly, “She won’t be back for a while.”

Isaac knits his brow, “Oh, is she okay?” Again, he notices how Stiles scoffs at his shoes.

“Yeah,” Scott says with a lackluster tone, “She’ll be fine. Did you need her for something? We can give her a message.”

“Just… I haven’t seen her in class and – we miss her.” He has a hard time looking them in the eye, “And maybe that Coach is running rampant without her.” His lips upturn ever-so-slightly, “She’ll want to know her assisting is very much appreciated.”

“I’m sorry,” Stiles cuts in front of Scott’s laughter. “I didn’t realize you and (Y/N) were close?”

Isaac wipes the smile from his face. “We’re not. Not outside of class at least.” He grinds his teeth, “She’s great. She’s always been kind to me. I’d hate if something happened and I didn’t know about it.”

That seems to appease Stiles, a flash of guilt washing over his face. “Right.”

~~~

The days seem to darken. Even with the promise of spring right around the corner, the world seems dusky, like the sun was a dimmer set low. Stiles’ lens was filtered with gray, shadowing his perspective with melancholia.

He spends his afternoons chasing the supernatural with Scott. But his nights he spends alone – quiet – in his room. He sits at his desk, spinning from side to side to look at the bulletin boards on the walls.

The one directly in front of him was all about you. He had covered it up with a blanket when you slept over that one time. A family picture and a selfie he got from your social media are pinned in the middle. Countless strings are between the picture of you and little bits of information.

A few green strings lead to fun facts like:

Watches true crime

Likes to read

Works at Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital

Born in Palo Alto, California

Fireman Tom

Front Desk Westbrook

Atrioventricular canal defect

A yellow string leads from the fact about a congenital heart defect. It spreads to multiple pictures, article clippings, and website screenshots on the heart problem.

“Children born with this condition have a hole in the wall between the heart’s chambers. They also have problems with the valves that control blood flow in the heart.

Atrioventricular canal defect allows extra blood to flow to the lungs. The extra blood forces the heart to work too hard, causing the heart muscle to grow larger.”

“Ventricular tachycardia is a type of irregular heartbeat, called an arrhythmia. It starts in the lower chambers of the heart, called the ventricles. A healthy heart typically beats about 60 to 100 times a minute at rest. In ventricular tachycardia, the heart beats faster, usually 100 or more beats a minute.

Sometimes the rapid heartbeat stops the heart chambers from properly filling with blood. The heart may not be able to pump enough blood to the body. If this happens, you may feel short of breath or lightheaded. Some people lose consciousness.”

He has a red string leading to an unknown section about the 3-inch incision on your chest. After hearing you mention that it was a device inserted near your heart, he did some more research. It might have been an implantable cardioverter-defibrillator, or an ICD.

Those devices detect irregular heartbeats and deliver electric shocks to hopefully restore a regular heart rhythm.

Other blue strings lead to theories he has about why your CHD correction wasn’t permanent, as well as solutions to your persistent tachycardia.

The other side of the board has a few other green strings that lead to a picture of you, Lydia, and Allison. Another is the name ‘Andrew’ written sloppily and then crossed out repeatedly with a ballpoint pen. A few short strings lead to the various situationships in your past and some notes on their kissing techniques.

Overall, Stiles was proud of the research he had conducted on you. But staring at it wasn’t making him feel any better. He was exhausting himself over retrograde amnesia, failing to put those details on your bulletin board.

He was hoping it would correct itself before he had to.

He barely registers that his dad enters the room. “Hey, kid,” he says, void of his sheriff uniform. “How you holding up?”

Stiles shrugs and it pulls a sigh out of Noah. “Listen, I’m glad we were able to find that Martin girl tonight. We should consider that a real victory.” Stiles just nods and Noah continues, “I uh… what in god’s name is that?”

He looks over Stiles’ bulletin board. “Research,” Stiles mumbles.

Noah sounds hesitant, “Right. Um… should I be concerned about this?” He searches his son’s vacant expression, “Like, are you peeping into her windows and stealing things from her underwear drawer?”

“What?” that snaps some life into Stiles, “No! No, dad, it’s not like that. It was a little inside joke from when we first started hanging out. Then it kind of turned into me trying to figure out what her heart problem was.”

Noah looks to the side with the medical research, “You know… uh, the Westbrooks called.”

“And?” Stiles looks up with dull brown eyes.

“And the doctor says (Y/N) should be exposed to things that might trigger her memory back. Stuff that she doesn’t remember.”

Stiles bites at the inside of his cheek, “Like me?”

Noah takes a deep breath, folding his arms. The reserved Stiles before him was disconcerting. “Having you visit might help.” The Sheriff tries to find something helpful to say – his wife was always better at these things. “They’ve had Scott sit with her and she remembers the few times they ran into each other during her early hospital days; back when she was still getting surgeries.”

“I don’t know how I… how do I sit there and…” Stiles leaves his hands limp in his lap. “How am I supposed to help? Pretend that I don’t know anything about her? Act like we’re meeting for the first time?”

“Maybe,” Noah grimaces, “I’d start with keeping this bulletin board to yourself. It might scare her into getting a restraining order.”

Stiles cracks the smallest smile, “How long is she going to be at the hospital?”

“About two or three days,” the Sheriff scratches the scruff on his chin, “They’ll probably keep her from school for even longer.”

“She’ll need to keep up on homework,” Stiles sighs, “She’d hate to miss out on so many assignments.” His small smile grows, “Of course she’s already done with her end of term projects.”

Noah smiles, “Even that biology one you guys were supposed to do together?”

Stiles shrugs, “Honestly, I don’t have a clue.”

They both share a laugh before Noah beckons him, “You should go. I’ll tell Tom you’re on your way.” He looks at his son, nostalgia flooding him.

Little Stiles jumping across waiting room seats. Little Stiles following the nurses around. Little Stiles foraging for snacks in the vending machines. Little Stiles afraid to talk to his mother who didn’t recognize him.

Little Stiles that cried in the hallway while he was busy with a police dispatch.

“Hey, it’ll…” Noah tries, “… it’ll be okay.”

Stiles looks drained, but he smiles at his father’s attempt. “Thanks dad.”

It was a long drive to the hospital. It felt like the world around him was moving in slow motion. It was like his jeep was gliding on the road with no traction. It didn’t help that he let the ringing in his ears be the only source of sound.

There was a tightness in his chest that wasn’t as warm as before. It was accompanied by an anxious knot in his stomach. Hospitals were bad enough. He doesn’t need to be reminded of his mother while he sits with you.

Knots in his shoulders, he walks into the hospital with shuffling steps. He vaguely remembers running into Melissa. He barely notices how the Westbrooks dismiss themselves to grab lunch.

He’s in your doorway and watching the line of confusion grow between your brows. The look of someone meeting a stranger.

And he’s suddenly eight years old again.

“Hi, (Y/N),” he says with a growing lump in his throat.

You fidget with the blanket laying over your legs. Your eyes are uncertain, “Hello. Um… are my parents…?”

“They’re grabbing lunch,” he says, hands in his pockets, “Is it okay if I visit for a bit? The doctor said it might trigger your memory.”

You look reluctant and it pains him. “I guess it’s worth a shot,” you watch him pull a chair over, “I don’t think you told me your name before.”

He tries to swallow past the lump, “Stiles.”

“Stiles,” you say quietly, as if you had never said the name before. “Stiles what?”

“Stilinski.”

Your eyes brighten, “You’re a Stilinski?”

He snorts, “Yeah, my dad’s the sheriff.”

“Woah,” you smile, “Your dad has been to my house a few times.”

Stiles nods, reminiscent of your first conversation together searching the woods for Scott all those weeks ago. “And you’re front desk Westbrook’s daughter.”

That makes you giggle, “I like that nickname.” It grows quiet for a few seconds while you consider his deflated figure. His eyes are downcast and his hands are stuffed in his pockets; you can see his leg starting to bounce. “Are we really good friends?”

His muted brown eyes turn to your brighter ones. “Yeah, we are.”

You nod, “For how long?”

“Since January when the school came back from winter break.”

You give a side smile, “So I did manage to start public school.”

He licks his lips, “Yep. And being a medical assistant here and being a teacher’s assistant to Coach.”

“That’s amazing,” you remark, “I didn’t realize… I’ve been dreaming about doing those things for years, but the fact I did… and I don’t even remember.”

Stiles frowns deep, “You haven’t gotten any of your memory back?”

You shake your head, “I get these flashes sometimes and I can’t tell if they’re dreams or not. Like… blue spray paint on my arms.”

Stiles’ face brightens with hope, “That’s – that’s real! That’s not a dream. We had a spray paint fight when we were fixing my jeep.”

Your eyes snap to his. A strange guilty feeling enters your stomach. It was bad enough disappointing people simply because you couldn’t remember them. Seeing the hope on his face makes you fill with pressure. You two must’ve had a pretty significant friendship.

“What other things have we done together?”

Stiles takes a tight breath, “Well… we’ve had dinner together. You’re an excellent cook. We painted my jeep and took Scott to get drunk on the preserve. We did a few school projects together and hang out at lacrosse practice. I took care of you when you were sick,” he suddenly looks you right in the eye, “I was there when you broke up with Andrew.”

Your eyebrows go up, but you don’t interrupt him.

“I was there when you got those claw marks on your shoulder – and other times you felt in danger,” he swallows hard, “We went to the winter formal together.”

“I went to a school dance?” you breathe out quietly. “Was it amazing? I’ve always wanted to go to a school dance.”

Stiles rubs his suddenly clammy hands down his pants, “It was. You looked great.” At seeing the light shining in your eyes, he continues. “You wore a dress that had these sparkling stars on it. The… y-you let the scars on your chest show. You were… you looked beautiful.”

“Did we slow dance?”

“Yeah, we did,” he sighs, chest aching. “It was the only dancing you could do that didn’t mess with your heart.”

You feel a drop of insecurity enter, “How much do you know about my heart?”

“I know about the heart defect and the tachycardia,” he rubs at his face. He could really take advantage of the situation here and learn more about your condition. But as quick as the thought came, it left. He wasn’t going to manipulate you like that. “I know you had a device put in last summer.”

“And that’s it?” you ask quietly. “I didn’t tell you more?”

“You always felt like it wasn’t the right time,” he shrugs, “But I suppose you might feel differently once your memory comes back.”

You brush your hair away, “I’m sorry I don’t remember.”

A sadness creeps into him. “It’s not your fault.”

“I’m still sorry. I hate seeing the disappointment,” you gesture to his slumped figure, “I really am trying.”

“I believe you,” Stiles says with a little more vigor.

Your eyes are a little wide as you say, “My mom told me you were the one to find me and bring me here.”

Stiles bows his head, visions of your bloodied figure going purple from the lack of oxygen. “Like I said… it’s not your fault.”

“And you’re saying it’s yours?” It was an honest question, but you said it with such sarcasm that it takes you aback to see the seriousness on his face. He really believes it was his fault. “From what I hear, you saved me Stiles.”

“Not all of you,” he winces a smile, leaning back in the chair, “If I had been sooner… maybe your heart wouldn’t have given out in the parking garage.”

“You don’t know that,” you say quietly. You may not recognize the boy, but it upset you to think he was blaming himself for your condition. “Regardless of whatever retort you can think of… you brought me to help. If you hadn’t done that then I would’ve been dead for sure.”

He doesn’t see the point in arguing with a version of you that doesn’t even know him. “Maybe. How has your heart been since being here?”

“Fine,” you say quickly, “I’m ready to get back home.”

“Ollie misses you,” he smirks.

You gush, “Oh my god, you know Oliver! He’s my handsome little man.”

“That he is…” Stiles laughs, “Very handsome.” He plays with his fingers, leg still bouncing from the rising anxiety in his stomach. “Is this helping with your amnesia at all?”

Your shoulders rise in a shrug, “I’m not sure. Nothing has come to me yet. But I do like talking to you.” You have a sweet smile on your face, “You mentioned I was dating someone named Andrew?”

“Just for like two weeks,” he says hotly.

You don’t notice, “I told myself I wouldn’t ser…”

“…seriously date anyone,” Stiles finishes, “That’s why you broke up. He was looking for something long term with you.”

Curious, you tilt your head to the side. “Was he cute?”

Stiles snorts, “Well… I guess. You had a crush on him.” He tries to stop his leg bouncing, “You have good taste too, he’s a good guy.”

“Is that why we went to the dance together?” you wonder, “Because I broke up with Andrew?”

“Technically we both went stag,” he says with a faux smile. A forced smile to keep you at ease. “But it was important to you to have the full experience – so I asked.”

You sigh, leaning against your pillows in thought, “You don’t realize how lucky you are to live such an average teenage life.” Stiles holds back his sarcastic laugh. What you said was so ironic. “I spent a lot of my life dreaming about the little things – silly things – like high school dances and playing sports and learning to drive.”

“Wait…” Stiles leans forward, “You don’t know how to drive?”

“No, I do,” you say defensively, “I have a license, technically.” You slump a little further, “But medically I’m not allowed to drive. The potential for fainting is a big red flag for driving. I don’t want to cause any accidents because my heart decided to give out on the road.”

Stiles has a wary smile on his face. “That’s okay, I drive you everywhere.”

“Is that with the jeep you mentioned?”

“Yep, my pride and joy,” he says, “It was my mom’s. She called him Roscoe.”

You remember how the Sheriff lost his wife. Something your parents told you after a few visits from him. You remember feeling sad that someone had died. Now you realize how sad it would be for a child to lose their mom as well.

“And we fixed him up one time?” You want to hear him talk more.

“Yeah, we put a new hood on him,” Stiles sighs out a smile. “You kept poking fun at how… how much duct tape and spray paint I have for him.”

You have a sweet smile on your face, “You want the car to last, I get it. Probably will be just duct tape by the time you turn him in.”

“Oh no,” Stiles waves his hands, “I’m going to keep this jeep for the rest of my life, even if it runs down. I’ll import custom parts to keep him fixed, I don’t care. I just need to find a way to make enough money to.”

You giggle and it strikes Stiles.

“What sort of job would that be?”

“I don’t know, maybe like an FBI agent or something.”

“FBI…” you nod, impressed, “That’d be cool.”

Stiles swallows, unsure of how to keep a conversation going with you. That was a feeling he wasn’t used to. It was so easy to talk to you before. He hates the awkward edge he feels brimming his smile.

“What about you?”

“Another one of those silly things I dream about,” you say sadly, “I don’t know what I’d do.”

His brow knits, “Spitball some ideas for me.”

You laugh again, “Maybe… a writer. Or maybe I’d open a cat rescue. Even better, what if I opened a cat café where you could read and buy books and pet cats.” The more you talk, the easier it was to spill your dreams. “I could be a nurse one day. Maybe work under a cardiothoracic surgeon. I could also just be a stay-at-home mom.”

Stiles feels that achy warmth in his chest more and more. “You want a family?”

“Of course,” you say as if it were the easiest decision in the world. “I always hated being an only child. It made being stuck at home so much worse. I’d want a bunch of kids.”

“How much is a bunch?”

You smirk, “I don’t know, like ten maybe.”

“Ten!?” Stiles jerks in his chair and it makes you laugh louder than before.

You wave a hand, “I’m kidding. I think four might be my max.”

Stiles wipes at his brow comically and your following giggle keeps that ache pulsing in his chest. “I think all those ideas are great. I think I’d even read a book written by you.”

“Are you not a big book reader?” you ask.

He winces, “If it’s not for research I don’t usually partake.”

“That’s a shame. There’s some really good fiction out there,” you smile. But there’s a sudden shift in your expression. “Have we had this conversation before?”

Stiles feels a tug at his heart, “No, actually. We don’t talk about the future much. Usually it’s whatever has happened in the past before we met – or what our friends are up to.”

You nod, a little reassured. “I would hate it if you just pretended like you didn’t already know this stuff about me.”

“When it comes to you, (Y/N),” he says confidently, “I’d say I’m scarily unfiltered. I say things to you that I don’t to anyone else. I don’t think I could pretend.” Even with his feelings for you – they came out in the littlest of ways without him voicing them directly.

That puts the smile back on your face, “It makes me sad not remembering you. It sounds like we got along really well.”

“We did,” he says quickly, “We do.”

You pull at the edge of your cotton blanket, “Our friends seem nice too – Allison and Lydia.”

“Nice might be a little kind for Lydia,” Stiles laughs, “Maybe a faux cold-hearted rich bitch is more appropriate.” He feels proud to rouse a look of shock on your face, “She’s all talk at school, but she has a good heart and is super smart. Just don’t get on her bad side.”

You chuckle, “And Scott sat with me a couple times. He looks different than what I remembered.”

“It’s been almost six months from where you memory ends,” he says, “That makes sense to me.”

“Do you…” you falter, “Do you think I will remember eventually?”

God, I hope so, he thinks. “I think you’ll get a few things back,” he says honestly, “I don’t know about everything. Amnesia is stupid like that.”

You frown, “Will you still – hang out with me?”

“Of course,” he says instantly, “If you want to. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I know it’s probably overwhelming.”

“It is,” you push back your hair again, “But I still want to try.”

~~~

The next week is full of anxiety. With spring right around the corner, March appears with sunny days and average temperatures. The promise of rain was on the way. It was nearing the next full moon and Stiles was full to the brim with nerves.

You still hadn’t come back to school, and he was finding it hard to come visit you. Meanwhile he and Scott try to tackle school one day at a time. Scott finds ways to see Allison while the overly watchful eyes of her grandfather become an increasing pressure.

The old man, Gerard, was still living at the Argent residence after his daughter’s funeral. His presence brought a newfound fear to the group.

He was the one at your door when you heard it knock.

“Hello, (Y/N),” he says with a smile. “I’m Mr. Argent, the new principal at Beacon Hill High.”

You blink a few times before awkwardly saying, “Right, um… hello.”

He raises his eyebrows, “May I come in?”

You look behind your shoulder for a moment before muttering, “Sure, we can sit here.” You gesture to the sitting room with the piano just beside the door. The older man nods his thanks and finds a seat in a comfy armchair.

You follow and sit on the loveseat opposite him. “How can I help you?”

“I’m just checking in on your progress since leaving the hospital. Many of your teachers have asked about you returning. I understand you experienced some memory loss the night of the school dance.”

“Yes,” you say, sitting on your hands, “I don’t remember any of it.”

He leans his elbows on his knees, looking at you seriously, “And you haven’t regained anything?”

“I get these flashes sometimes,” you mutter, looking towards the carpet beneath your toes. “But those seem like dreams to me. I don’t recognize them.” At his persistent look, you elaborate, “Like visiting the mall or a lacrosse field or the woods.”

He nods, “I’m sorry to hear that. Do you have any intention of returning to public school?”

You swallow hard, “Well, um… seeing as I don’t remember any of it – I think it would be hard to pick up where I left off.”

“Our staff is willing to accommodate to your situation,” he finally leans back, “We’ll give you special permission to use more resources and have extension time on all assignments. We want to make sure you’re comfortable in returning.”

“That’s good to know,” you say, noticing Oliver enter the sitting room. He jumps onto the couch with you, “I’ll need to talk to my parents about it.”

Gerard gives another strange smile, “Of course. Are you getting any of your course work from friends at least?”

You grimace – does he mean the friends you don’t remember? “I’ve had a few homework things dropped off.”

“Some from my granddaughter, I believe,” he chuckles, “She’s always had a good heart, that one.”

“Who is your granddaughter?”

“Allison Argent,” he says.

You widen your eyes, “Oh, yes – Allison. She’s been helping me with some assignments. I didn’t realize her grandfather was the principal.”

“Like I said, my position is relatively new.” He claps his hands together, “Please reach out to the office if you plan on returning full time.”

Meanwhile, in the middle of town, Stiles and Allison are at a hardware store looking for something to help Scott with the upcoming full moon. Allison was intent on being involved this month, her first full moon since learning the truth of it all.

“You used handcuffs last time?”

“On the radiator, yeah,” Stiles grumbles, looking at the shelves stocked with tools. “And he still got out and almost killed (Y/N).”

Allison gasps softly, “You’re kidding.”

“Not at all. If Derek hadn’t shown up, I think he would’ve…” he stops at the end of the aisle, “We need something that won’t break as easily. Heavy duty.”

“Like… chains?”

Stiles waggles a finger at her, “I like your thinking.” He checks the signs above each aisle for what they need. “We can chain him up somewhere until the moon sets.”

She follows, her intentions on more than just helping Scott with the full moon. “(Y/N)’s told me you haven’t been visiting her.”

It’s like she can see the tension knot in his shoulders. His sneakers squeak on the tile floor, “And you have been?”

“I’ve been helping her keep up to date on our school assignments.” She watches the hunch develop in his posture. It was like he was deflating before her eyes, “Don’t you remember the doctor said exposing her to things she…”

“Yeah, I know,” Stiles says a little more coldly than before. “It’s just that…” He spots the chains and goes for them.

How does he tell Allison that seeing you might finally break his already tearing heart? He’s sure seeing the look in your eyes again – the polite look someone gives a stranger – would kill him. How does he explain the pain he feels knowing you don’t remember a single memorable thing you’ve done together? It was a new kind of rejection.

He prefers daydreaming about the you that knows him. The you that he feels more deeply about than anyone else before. The you that he now searches for in his sleep. It was now his favorite time of day.

Sleep meant he could dream about you. He could see you there, smelling of sparkling strawberries by the lake – looking like a sun warmed burst of color. He yearned for that peachy summer filter your presence brought to his life.

His days were dull without you. Like the world resorted to turning the brightness down because its sun had disappeared.

“I’ve been…”

“… distracting yourself?” Allison offers.

He grips a coiled pile of chains and pulls them over his shoulder, “Maybe. The full moon kind of takes priority the next couple of days.”

“Do you think (Y/N)’s in danger?”

“Not if this idea works,” he grumbles under the weight of the metal links. They walk towards the registers. “And with you helping it might make things easier.”

Allison pulls out some cash so they can split the cost. “First searching for Lydia, then looking into a new beta werewolf, now making plans for the full moon… you’re going to run out of distractions eventually.”

I’ll just sleep then, he thinks. You’ll be waiting for him there.

“Let’s tackle this first,” he says.

Allison sighs her frustration. “I wish there was a way we could just… reach in and pull the memories out, you know? Make her remember.”

Stiles drops the full weight of the chains on his foot, and he curses loudly, “Ah, fuck!” He bounces on his unhurt foot, panting as he has a stroke of brilliance.

Maybe there was a way to force your memories to the surface.

~~~

Scott is lying on your living room floor, Ollie hiding upstairs from the doggish presence. You’re sitting cross legged on the couch ottoman, listening to his woes.

“So you think the principal became the principal to spy on your secret relationship with Allison?”

“No, there’s got to be more to it than that,” Scott grumbles, arms splayed to either side. “He’s looking for something more. The Argents are… very loyal to their ideals. Once they set their minds to something – they accomplish it no matter what.”

“And by becoming principal, Mr. Argent is trying to accomplish… total domination over teenagers?”

Scott sighs out a laugh, sitting up, “Maybe. I’m sorry – I’m venting too much. It’s got to be super confusing for you.”

You shrug, “Just a little. I’m starting to piece things together.” You start to pick at your nails, a nervous habit you’ve been more partial to since the hospital. “Allison has been a big help. I think Lydia is still recovering from the attack, more than me at least.”

“And Stiles?”

You frown, “I haven’t seen him.”

Scott matches your frown, “He’s taken it pretty hard.”

“I thought as much,” you pick at your cuticles, “Why do you think that is?”

Sensing the touchy subject, Scott looks to the ground. “We all deal with hard stuff in our own way.”

“But he told me he still wanted to see me,” you say confusedly, “Even if I didn’t remember everything.”

“I think he holds a lot of guilt for the memory loss,” Scott defends, “He uh… he cares a lot.”

“I sort of got that from his last visit,” you wince, “I guess I wouldn’t want to be reminded of something I consider a failure.”

Scott furrows his brow, “You being alive isn’t a failure, (Y/N).”

“My amnesia is, though,” you sigh, “But it’s got me thinking… maybe there’s more to why he thinks of it as a failure.”

“What do you mean?”

You swallow, “I don’t know. It’s hard trying to figure this whole thing out. It’s like I’m trying to give a summary on a book I never read.”

“We’ve done that plenty of times in English class,” Scott smiles warily.

You chuckle at the joke. “I mean, I’m seeing the end of the movie without any plot. I don’t know what to make of anything I see. I hear of all these things I did, and it just feels like I’m out of the loop. I’m being told about someone I don’t even know.”

Scott nods at your words, happy to be your confidant. “It sounds hard.”

“And even with that, everyone is making an effort to stay connected to me. Everyone I don’t remember. Allison does homework with me, you vent to me about Allison, the hospital has put my work schedule on hold, the high school is making accommodations, even Lydia has texted me.” You grimace as you pull at the skin around your nail. Part of a cuticle tears away, “So why hasn’t Stiles? Why is he different?”

Scott bites his tongue. “This whole thing might mean something a little different for him.”

“In what way?”

“Just you,” he swallows, “You mean something different to him.”

“You mean, because he was the one who saved my life?”

Scott clenches his jaw, “Yeah, something like that.”

You suck on your finger. It stings where you tore the cuticle away. You taste blood on your tongue.

“We should do something,” Scott decides, “We should get the friends together and hang out.”

“And do what?” you ask, standing to find a band-aid.

Scott follows you to the hallway closet, “You have a firepit in the backyard. Maybe we roast some marshmallows?”

“You don’t think it might rain?” you wrap a plain brown band-aid around your finger. It almost surprises you to see two other fingers with the same bandage around the nail. “It’s been cloudy all week.”

“No, I think we’ve got a few more days before the weather gets real bad,” Scott waves a hand at you, “Would your parents be okay with it?”

“Sure,” you shrug, “My mom would probably be thrilled.”

Scott is already texting on his phone, “Perfect. I’ll let everyone know – do you have firewood?”

“Are you kidding?” you laugh, “My dad keeps the shed fully stocked. Marshmallows and everything.”

“It looks like Lydia is going to be at her dads place tonight,” Scott grimaces at his phone, “But Allison is available.”

You watch the dopey lovestruck smile grow on his face, “Won’t it… won’t it be terribly awkward for everyone? You guys have history to talk about while I… I don’t remember meeting any of you.”

Scott shifts his face into a serious expression, “That doesn’t mean we don’t want to still hang out with you.”

You fist your bandaged fingers into the pockets of your sweats. “I guess I can see it as a chance to get to know you guys better.”

“We could play like truth and dare, or answer get to know you questions,” Scott chuckles.

The next half hour has you creating a s’more station outside while Scott brings over a pile of firewood. He’s just exploring the depths of the shed when Allison appears, the sunset illuminating her in flattering light.

“Hey!” you say, glad to see her again, “I was just laying out the chocolate.”

Allison gives you a hug, eyeing her secret boyfriend carrying an armful of wood from the shed. “Perfect. Let me help with the camping chairs.” She hops over to kiss Scott before taking the covers off the chairs.

“Have you talked with Lydia recently?” you help move the seating around the firepit, “She was a little frazzled the last time I saw her.”

“She was a little shy coming back to school,” Allison admits, “But Lydia has always exuded a kind of confidence, even if she doesn’t especially feel it. The whole school was gawking at her, and she strut down the hallway like nothing happened.”

You nod, a smile of gratitude on your face, “I’m glad.” You notice how Allison deliberately set the chairs in two pairs across from each other, on either side of the firepit. She plans to sit by Scott, and across the fire, you sit by Stiles. “Is Stiles for sure coming?”

“He told me he would,” Scott throws a few more logs on their pile, “Just that he’d be late.”

As Scott was making a tent of wood in the firepit, a grumbling engine could be heard pulling in front of the house. You sit in your chair, matching cream colored sweatshirt and sweatpants on. You even had a green and blue flannel on over the sweatshirt for an added layer of warmth. It was something you just found in your closet.

Stiles appears walking around the house, hands in his pockets. His lips are in a thin line as he waves a hand in hello.

“How are you, Stiles?” Allison asks, ever the polite one.

He shrugs, eyes flitting between the remaining seats. He knows his best friend will want to sit beside his girlfriend. “I’m alright.”

Your eyebrows knit. Stiles doesn’t look very alright. He looks like he could collapse from exhaustion at any second.

“Hey, grab me some of that kindling, would you?” Scott says, kneeling beside the firepit and crumpling old newspapers into flammable balls.

Stiles leans down for a box of splintered wood and shaved bark. He gives the pieces for Scott to create a nest in the heart of the pit.

You fold your arms as the sun fully sets and the stars become more visible across the indigo sky. You observe the wrinkled nature of Stiles’ clothes – the dark rings beneath his eyes. He looks a little worse for wear.

“This is my first fire of the season,” Allison says, crossing her legs and admiring how Scott sets the kindling aflame, “I love having campfires.”

“Me too,” Scott says warmly, standing to go sit beside his girlfriend, “I’m a fiend for toasted marshmallows.”

“I like them a little on the burnt side,” she says in reply, enjoying how he easily slips his fingers between hers.

Stiles stands as the kindling burns more brightly, sending plumes of smoke into the air. His eyes find your form tightly wrapped in your chair. There’s a flicker of something sad in his gaze – guilt, pity, pain?

He walks around the pit and sits in the camping chair beside you. It was more like he collapsed in the chair, the legs scraping on the stones littering the ground.

“What about you?” you ask timidly.

Stiles looks at you with tired eyes, “Sorry?”

“How do you like your marshmallows roasted?”

His eyes are still sad, but something quirks in his lips, “Golden brown – although that’s dangerously close to burnt and that happens more often than I care to admit.”

“I don’t have patience for roasting marshmallows,” you say begrudgingly, “They’re never exactly what I want. I eat them too fast.”

Stiles swallows hard, moving his limbs slowly as if any faster would give him a headache. He spears two marshmallows on the end of a roasting stick. “And if you had patience for marshmallows – what would they look like?”

“I like them golden too,” you smile, “A little or a lot is fine with me. I just don’t like them burnt.”

“It gives them flavor!” Allison defies, “And it’s fun blowing them out when they catch fire.”

“Until they melt right off the stick,” Scott laughs, “And they burn in the pit like Anakin near the lava pools.”

You giggle, a strange flash of a dream crossing your mind. Yourself wearing a star wars t-shirt with a blue and green flannel. The same flannel you have on now. Was it a dream… or a memory? Was it like the strange memory of blue spray paint on your arms?

There was something stirring in your stomach. You could mistake it for anxiety or the painful churning of your insides – but something was trying to pry itself out of you. Watching Stiles rotate the roasting stick against the firepit was sending waves of familiarity through you.

The campfire reminds you of Stiles in a way. He reminds you of autumn and woods and campfire smoke. It makes you think of fallen leaves and flashlights and flannels.

Just as you remind Stiles of summertime – he reminds you of autumn.

“Did you hear about Isaac’s dad?” Allison suddenly speaks.

Scott sighs, “Yeah, he was taken out of lacrosse practice today to talk to the police.”

“I don’t think he has a strong case of his innocence,” Stiles mumbles.

“What happened to Isaac’s dad?” you ask, unsure of who Isaac even was.

Scott clears his throat, checking his marshmallow by pinching the soft white fluff. “He was murdered.”

Something cold and steely takes ahold of your limbs, “Oh my god, that’s terrible.”

“Yeah, it happened during the last rainstorm,” Scott continues, “I think they suspect Isaac.”

“Why would he kill his own father?” you ask with a slanted brow.

Allison prepares some graham crackers and chocolate, “I don’t think they had a very good relationship.”

“You could say that,” Stiles scratches at his neck, “Seeing as he comes to school with new bruises weekly.”

A small gasp escapes you, “That’s awful…”

“You’ve actually helped Isaac with it before,” Stiles says, “You’ve taken him to your house and cleaned him up after a fight.”

You find it hard to swallow, “I’m glad someone did. Has there ever been an investigation at the house for child abuse?”

“Not that I know of,” Stiles sighs, “Isaac has never wanted any trouble.”

“That doesn’t make any of it okay,” you say more to yourself, “Is he still being questioned?”

“I think my dad might take him into the station tomorrow for further questioning,” Stiles says.

You tilt your head towards him, “As in, Isaac is going to be arrested?”

“I’m not sure,” Stiles says quietly, “I wouldn’t be surprised seeing as he’s their biggest suspect with a damning motive.”

You don’t realize your fingers are searching for more tender skin to pick at around your nails. Scott puts his toasted marshmallow on a prepared cracker and proceeds to set another on fire. Allison giggles as she smashes one s’more down.

“I haven’t seen Isaac,” you say quizzically.

Scott presents the marshmallow aflame on his roasting stick for Allison to blow it out. “He’s been asking about you though.”

Stiles removes his marshmallows from the fire as well. “He says Coach has been unreliable and chaotic since you’ve left.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, “Because I’m his TA?”

“He may be your superior, but that man is hopeless without you,” Scott laughs, “I honestly don’t know how Coach has kept his job as long as he has.”

Stiles is preparing two s’mores beside you, layering a graham cracker and chocolate with golden brown marshmallows. You are picking at your unbandaged fingers terribly.

Scott and Allison are preoccupied with feeding each other sticky s’mores while you stare into the dancing flames of the fire. You wince at a sharp pain. Looking down you see your fingers have pried a sliver of skin from around a nail. It stings being exposed to the nighttime air and a blossom of blood speckles the tender skin beneath.

A large hand enters your vision – long fingers reaching for yours. He pulls your injured hand away and inspects the bandages on your fingertips. He places a readymade s’more in your palm. “What’s happened to Isaac isn’t your fault,” he says quietly, “Neither is Coach being manic – that’s nothing new.”

You watch his hand pull away, fisting in his lap as if regretful to touch you without your permission.

Taking a deep breath, you look at the perfectly cooked s’more, “Man, there weren’t even coals yet,” you say with mustered warmth. “This looks amazing.”

You catch him staring at your smile. The tiredness is evident in his look, but the fondness that warms his eyes is undeniable. He holds his hands together like he fears they’ll move for you if he didn’t.

The gooey marshmallow sticks to the sides of your face as you eat. It’s exactly how you like it, and you can’t help giggling at the sticky sweetness melting on the chocolate.

Stiles is watching you with something sad and sweet in his face.

“Thank you,” you say, cracker crumbs littering your lips. “You didn’t have to make me one.”

“I wanted to,” he says in return. “I wanted to see if that marshmallow would stay on the cracker or not.”

You snort with a full mouth. Bits of sticky fluff are on most of your fingers and stuck to your cheeks. You flick your fingers, seeing how some of the marshmallow was gripping the fraying fibers of your band aids.

“Oh, shoot,” you shake a hand free of crumbs. “I’ll be right back.”

As you rise from your chair, Stiles grips the arms of his – like he was about to stand with you. His eyes follow you all the way to the back door.

Scott clears his throat loudly and Allison nibbles the marshmallow from her fingers.

“What?” Stiles questions, still on the edge of his seat.

Scott wiggles his eyebrows, “You know what.”

Allison licks her lips and nods toward the house, “Take the chance.”

“Ah… god.” Stiles slips out of the chair, tripping on his way to the house. He opens the door and spies you starting to open new band aids at the kitchen counter.

“Oh!” you say sharply, “Hey – everything okay?”

“Um…” his throat was suddenly very dry, “I just – wanted to see if you needed help.” He walks to the counter and sees the pile of marshmallow coated band aids. “I know it can be hard to… wrap those on your fingers by yourself.”

You feel shy, hesitant to display your fingers, “That… that’d be nice, thank you.”

He ignores how your hands shake, unwrapping a band aid and picking a finger with raw skin around the fingernail. Some were scabbed over, and others were still wet with exposed, tender skin.

He’s soft in how he holds your hand, gently wrapping the band aid. “I’ve never seen you pick at your fingers before.”

“Me neither,” you say quietly, “I guess it’s just a new nervous habit.”

“What was making you nervous?” he asks just as quietly. He keeps his gaze on your hands, his own oddly cold against yours.

It leaves you free to look at his face without fear. You never noticed how thick his eyelashes were. You suspect they frame his bronze eyes well, especially when they were well rested. He also has a constellation of moles across his face.

You were tracing them with your eyes as you say, “I guess I was feeling guilty again for losing my memory. It sounds like people need me… the old me.”

I need you, Stiles thinks, upset at how the guilt was presenting itself in you. “But none of it is your fault.”

“That doesn’t stop the fact that lots of problems would be solved if I could just remember.”

“I’m sorry,” he says with hidden emotion, “I… I could’ve… if I had just stayed with you…”

Your brows knit as he applies a third bandage. “It’s not your fault either, Stiles. We’re both doing the best that we can.”

He clenches his jaw, “Maybe we should put band aids on all your fingers so you’re not tempted.”

You snort, “Thank you for helping me.”

Stiles smiles and again you’re struck by another one of his features. Stiles is cute, you think, he’s really cute. “You’re welcome,” he says.

He holds your hands for a second before lifting them to his lips. He kisses each of your bandages in a chaste, silly way. “Make-it-better kisses,” he says almost dreamily – remembering a past memory, “Your specialty.”

You’re stuck on the way his mouth hovered over each of your fingers. “You learned well, apparently.”

“You’re basically cured,” he smiles again, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Make-it-better kisses are a medical miracle, so they say.”

You nod slowly, “Maybe I just need a couple more of those to get my memory back.”

Stiles’ eyes blow wide, “Oh… oh my god – that’s not what I… I didn’t mean to insinuate – I mean, not that I’d be upset to do… ah, shit, I’m messing this up.”

Giggles are falling out of you faster than Stiles is running his mouth. “Stiles, I was meaning a forehead kiss. Help fix my brain.”

He lets out a loud sigh, “Of course – of course that’s what you meant.” He’s jerky and hesitant and terribly endearing as he leans over to place an awkward kiss to your temple.

~~~

The jeep stops with a jolt in front of the sheriff’s station. Through the blinds Stiles and Derek see a woman behind the counter.

Somewhere in the holding cells is Isaac, being held on suspicion of his father’s murder.

“Okay, now the keys to every cell are in a password protected lockbox in my father’s office,” Stiles says. He grits his teeth, “The problem is getting past front desk Westbrook.”

It was Angela on duty, filling out her part on police reports behind the counter.

“I’ll distract her,” Derek says nonchalantly.

Stiles freaks, “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” he grabs Derek’s leather jacket, “You? You’re not going in there.”

Derek looks at the hand on his jacket like it might be his next snack.

“I’m taking my hand off,” Stiles says quickly. “That is Angela Westbrook in there – you can’t just ‘distract her.’” He uses air quotation marks.

“Sure, I can.”

“She’s married!”

Derek shrugs, “And I’m charming.”

“You’re a criminal!”

“I was exonerated.”

Stiles licks his lips, “You’re still a person of interest, and trust me, Westbrook is the last person you want to mess with. She almost always hangs up when I try to call the station.”

“That’s because you’re a hyperactive, overexaggerated teenage boy and I’m…” he adjusts his collar, “A handsome innocent person of interest that looks really good in leather.”

The look of acceptance in Stiles’ face was laughable. He couldn’t deny any of those points. “Fine. Try and charm her and see what happens.”

They wait as another police officer appears to talk to Angela, looking like they were about to head home for the night. It’s the opportunity Stiles needs to talk to Derek about one more tiny favor.

“So with me helping with this whole Isaac fiasco… I was thinking maybe you could do something for me.”

Derek whips his head over, “Excuse me?”

“A favor for a favor.”

“You know I could just walk in, knock everyone out, and break into that lockbox, right? I don’t actually need you.”

Stiles lifts his hands in protest, “You do if you want to remain an innocent person of interest!”

Derek stares him down uncomfortably, “What favor?”

~~~

The new spring rain was finally here, starting with a light sprinkle. You are on the couch, your favorite forest green blanket over your socked feet. Oliver is snuggled on your lap, enjoying the way your stomach rocked him back and forth with your breaths.

Angela sits with you, warming her hands on a mug of tea she brewed for you. “Chamomile and lavender,” she says.

You sigh, “Good for stress.” You give her a knowing look, paired with a smile.

“And sleep,” she says, “I’ll probably pass out in about ten minutes.” She laughs and then clears her throat, “You know, there was something super strange that happened at the station the other day.”

“What was it?” you ask, excited that your mom wanted to share about her workdays again. She had been worried about putting stress on your heart by telling you those stories.

She looks worried now, “It was a little chaotic.”

“Please, mom,” you say, “We haven’t just talked in a while.”

Angela seems to agree, taking a big gulp of her tea. “Well, we had a boy in holding for a murder – no, I won’t tell you who. And Derek Hale came in to talk to me.”

“Hale,” you mutter, “Wasn’t that the name of the family whose house…”

“Burned down, yes,” Angela says, “And while he was there, the boy broke out of holding and an officer I’ve never seen before was knocked out on the ground.” She shakes her head, “I have no idea how any of that happened on my watch. The poor officer had an arrow in his leg and everything.”

“Oh my god, from what?” you ask with pursed lips.

Angela shrugs her shoulders, “The Sheriff is looking into it, but I’m not sure. His son was by the holding cells when he got there.”

“That Stiles guy?”

She nods, suddenly looking at you with warmth – a question in her eyes. “That’s right. He’s a good kid. A strange one, but good.”

“Did you…” you start to say, “Did Stiles and I hang out a lot?”

Angela swallows, “You did. He thought we couldn’t hear all the times he climbed the garden trellis,” she smirks, “But your father and I aren’t that dumb.”

You scoff in surprise, “He climbed the front of the house?”

“A couple times,” she replies, finishing her tea, “He’s not exactly the most graceful person. It’s easy to hear him struggle up the vines and fall through your window.”

You laugh, “And you never thought to stop it?”

“Your dad considered it,” she says, pausing to hear the rain fall heavier on the roof. “But we knew you kids were fine. He might be a bit of a troublemaker, but I know he wouldn’t do anything to put you intentionally in harm’s way.”

Squinting your eyes, you suddenly gasp, “Oh my god, you approve of him, don’t you?”

Angela shrugs again, “Maybe.”

“You’ve never liked any boys I’ve brought over.”

“I think your dad still needs a little convincing,” she says, “But Stiles will win him over eventually.”

“I didn’t realize…” you say, flinching as thunder crashes overhead.

Angela shivers, “Well, that’s my cue for a nap.” She stands and stretches, “Warm tea, cozy bed, and rain in the background? Don’t expect me to wake up anytime soon.”

You laugh, “I’ll be here reading. Thank you for the tea, mom.”

“No problem, sweetie. I wish I could start on that garden, but the recommended time frame is the end of April,” she rolls her eyes, “My herbs are suffering in their little pots!”

You smile as she retreats up the stairs. The rain was really coming down now, pelting the roof like a hail of bullets. You always loved the sound of rain. Maybe it was the cliché book reader in you, but the weather gave the perfect conditions for a reading session.

Ollie sleeps soundly on your lap as you pick up your latest read. It was strange coming home to see a bookmark in a book you didn’t remember. It still sits on your nightstand, hopefully to be picked up again should your memories return.

In the meantime, you begin to read a new fantasy trilogy.

The rain and thunder continue for another half hour, Oliver choosing to sleep on an overturned pillow beside you. He snuggles his face into his fluffy tail as you read. You were just starting to feel sleep tugging at your eyelids when a firm knock came on the front door.

You close your book, apprehensive as the last time someone knocked on the door, the new principal sat you down to question your current whereabouts.

But you find that it was someone new. A tall handsome man with light eyes stands on the porch, sprinkled with rain.

He wipes the water dripping into his eyes, “Hey, (Y/N).” He looks up at the ceiling as if listening for something, “Can I come in?”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” you ask, shocked that this handsome man knew you by name.

“I’m Derek,” he says, pushing his way in and standing beside the piano.

You follow by quietly closing the door, afraid to wake your mom. One of the men involved in the strange chaos that happened at the police station was currently in the sitting room.

“Like Derek Hale, Derek?”

“You remember me?” he asks with confusion in his brow.

You fold your arms, “I remember your name on one of my mom’s police reports years ago. About a house fire.”

He clamps his mouth shut and nods. “Listen, Stiles and Isaac have been talking about you – asking me for favors.”

You remember your friends talking about an Isaac. “Okay?”

“I told them it might not even work, but alphas are usually the ones best apt to do it.”

“Do what?” you ask, arms tightly wound and your feet rooted to the spot. You are starting to get a pit in your stomach. Thunder is roiling outside.

“Just… jog your memory a little bit.” He takes a step forward and you suddenly find the ability to move backward as far as the room would let you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you say quickly, “I don’t even know you!”

Derek holds up his hands, “You need to calm down. Your heart is stuttering all over the place.”

“Yeah, it does that,” you say angrily, fear overtaking you, “Especially when strangers threaten to do something to jog my memory.”

“It’s just some minor memory manipulation,” he says, shrugging his shoulders, “I haven’t really done it to extract memories out of someone else before, but it can be done.” He approaches your body pressed against the wall, “You need to hold still though – I don’t want to damage your spinal cord.”

You gape your mouth, “What the hell do you mean!?”

He takes ahold of your neck and you’re on the brink of a scream when he covers your mouth with his other hand. “I need you to stand still.” And he sinks his claws into the back of your neck.

You flinch and gasp behind his hand. Something sharp punctures the nape of your neck, heat trickling down from the top of your head to your spine. You feel a strange twinge of electricity and it makes you shiver.

A picture was filling your mind, crisp and warm as you close your eyes to see it better.

It was you in a pale yellow dress, bows in your hair, and your hand held tightly in Tom’s fingers. Judging by how you had to crane your neck to see his tall figure, you had to be about four years old.

Another warm image appears: dirty carrots being pulled from smelly earth. Your mom claps her soil stained gloves, proud of the garden you planted together. Little you was just as excited, taking a bite out of the carrot and grimacing at the gritty taste of dirt.

One memory flows in, a tinge of cold on the edge of this one. Like you found a cold spot in a pool of water. You were finishing a homework page your mom made on algebraic equations. A bitterness was in your chest at not being able to do it in an actual school.

Your mom appears to place a stapled packet of papers in front of you. You curiously pull the first page towards you and the top reads: ‘Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital – Job Application.’ You squeal and launch yourself into a hug with your mom.

The next memory that tries to surface isn’t as warm as the others. And it doesn’t flow in as easily. You start to get a headache as a cold image swims into view. A jeep driving through the woods.

“I don’t get out much.”

He laughs, “Then why the sudden change?”

“I felt like it.”

“Woman of many words,” he smirks.

You flinch, the memory crumbling into something new – just as cold and difficult to resurface as the other one. A movie was playing in the background and a steaming meal was on plates in front of you.

He was describing a different meal to you, “It was a masterpiece.”

“Sounds amazing,” you say, moving your plate, “Like a fancy kid’s meal.”

He laughs, “That’s what it was! When I was little the only thing I would eat was kraft mac and cheese with chicken nuggets. She was determined to make me a better version.”

“I would’ve liked to have met her,” you say softly, “She sounds like an amazing person.”

“She was,” he says quietly, “She would’ve thought you were sweet.”

Pain pulses in your temples as floods of memories try to pry through your vision. It was like trying to yank sharp rocks through a rubber hose. But the next memory appears with a slight warmth.

Your chest was fluttering with desperate breaths.

“And what do you feel?” he asks.

“My heartbeat,” you say, tightening your fingers around his, “Your hand. And the cracking spray paint.” It was getting easier to breathe as you open your eyes to look at him.

You can see your initials drawn on his cheek with blue paint. He looks concerned as his thumb starts to rub along the inside of your knee.

Stiles, you think. That’s Stiles!

A burst of freedom surges through your head – like a lock being broken. You start to remember everything in between these colder memories. They start to warm with recognition.

Stiles is rambling, “… and I wasn’t sure how you felt about me being close when you weren’t in some kind of distress from your heart because so far the only times I’ve touched you has been when you were about to faint or your heart is racing or you just went through a traumatic ordeal, and seeing as being drunk and having a breakup bonfire with your friends is none of those things… I thought maybe you’d be mad at me for, you know… touching you.”

You smile as he gets even more adorably endearing, “I’m not mad, Stiles.”

He still looks ashamed, whispering, “Okay.”

“I would tell you if I didn’t like how you were touching me.”

He whips his head to you, his throat bobbing.

Your eyes start to prickle with tears. How did you not realize how much this boy was into you? The signs were all there.

“Get in the bed, Stilinski,” you mumble, already soothed by his woodsy honey scent. You breathe it in deeply, loving how he apologizes as he gets under the sheets. You relish in his awkward avoidance of your limbs, “It’s fine, Stiles,” you laugh, “We’re bound to touch being this close.”

He swallows hard, staring at the ceiling like avoiding your gaze would save him from the heat encompassing his heart. It was making his cheeks burn.

“Goodnight,” you mumble.

He bites the inside of his cheek, “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

Tears are filling your eyeline, a drop racing down your cheek as the distant, cold memories are fully back in focus. The pain in your head was growing, but it was worth it to remember all this. The fact you didn’t notice Stiles’ feelings sooner was putting a pool of guilt in your stomach. The poor boy was being so terribly obvious now that you saw the scenes again in your mind’s eye.

He smells like candy, you think.

Your lips fall into an easy pattern. He moves his hands to the small of your back to remove any more space between you. Your noses brush and press into cheeks as you kiss.

He hums deep in his throat, and it sends a shiver down your spine. He places two quick kisses along your jaw and lands on your neck, right beneath the bend in your jaw. Your head falls back as he leaves chaste kisses there too.

“Is this good?”

You laugh with your eyes still closed, tears actively falling down your face. It was good, you remember. So good you actually have a crisis in thinking you might’ve made a mistake. You were in denial of any feelings you had for him.

Even when Allison and Lydia questioned you before the dance.

Your mind swims to the desired memory that you had forgotten. Projected stars fill the space as the band plays a soft song. You hold onto Stiles in a beautiful starry dress. You’re hidden from him as you’re pressed together, swaying to the music.

You wonder if that’s part of the reason you two have courage to talk. Neither of you were looking.

“What else?” you ask with a puckered brow. A warmth you now know to be likeness enters your chest.

He grips your sides, “I like… being this close to you. And smelling that wonderful fruity stuff on you.”

You laugh, “You’ve said that before.”

He smiles, “I like you in this dress. I like that your scars are out. I like the fact you came without a date because I get to dance with you like this. And I like knowing you’re smiling right now without me needing to look because I can feel it against my cheek.” He pulls away to see proof of that smile. “I like you, (Y/N). Like a lot.”

Your cheeks start to feel itchy with salty tears, a quiet sob making your breath stutter.

“Like a lot a lot.”

Before watching the aftermath of that dance play out in your mind, you force yourself to the present. Claws rip out of your neck, and you wince, wiping at the tears that had dripped down your chin.

“How…” you sniffle, “How did you do that?”

Derek looks serious, searching for side effects in your crying, “It’s just something werewolves can do.”

“Never heard of that one before.” You cover another sniffle with a laugh, “Thank you,” you say, “Thank you.” You jump on him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He’s frozen for about three seconds before placing his hands gingerly on your back, “You’re welcome.”

You’re on your tiptoes to reach him, but it’s the perfect height to hide your face in his chest, “He was so devastated when I didn’t remember.” You recall Stiles when he first saw you in the hospital, “He has to be so upset.”

“He’s miserable,” Derek says gruffly, pulling you away. “I need you to fix him. I didn’t think he was capable of being any more annoying.”

Your smile suddenly drops, “I never got the chance to tell him.” Your hands fly to your hair, completely ignoring the pain still pulsating in your temples. “I went to find Lydia before I…”

Derek raises his eyebrows, “Before you…”

You look at him with red eyes, “Derek this is so important. I need a ride. Please!”

~~~

The rain is in full force behind you, providing a backdrop to your panting silhouette. Just traveling from Derek’s car has you soaked in rainwater. The sleek black car drifts away under the cover of thunder.

You’re shaking terribly, water dripping from your hairline and down your face. The porch at least gives you some cover while you wait. It was ridiculous. You left the house in such a hurry, you hadn’t thought to change.

You wear comfy sage green pajamas, matching with little white daisies on them. A sunflower yellow knitted cardigan lays wet and heavy over your shoulders. One sleeve is dangling further down your arm than the other.

Anxiously you check that the police cruiser is absent from the driveway. Then you hear the door creak open.

Stiles is there in dark blue loungewear himself. It brings out the purple circles under his eyes.

“(Y/N)?” the dull expression in his face suddenly changes to one of deep concern, “What are you doing here? Did you walk in the rain?” He’s reaching for your cardigan, wishing to pull you into the shelter.

But he hesitates – not knowing if it was okay to touch you so forwardly. Not knowing if you’d find it a violation that a near stranger lays his hands on you.

It breaks your heart.

“I need to talk to you.”

He blinks, hand falling to his side, “Yeah, of course.” He opens the door further and ushers you in. “You must be freezing.” He jumps to find a towel to cover your shivering figure.

You’re pulling the wet cardigan off when he returns with a giant fluffy towel. He sees the straps of your pajama top and immediately averts his eyes, wrapping the towel around your shoulders. He rubs up and down your arms for about two seconds before catching himself again.

He takes three steps back, rubbing at his face harshly. “What do you want to talk about?”

You aren’t sure if the tears ever stopped since regaining your memories; it was too hard to discern what was from the rain and what was from you. But you look at Stiles now with a deep warmth in your chest.

It was so large and so warm it was constricting your lungs. Looking at him was making it hard to breathe. “Are you not sleeping?”

He clenches his jaw, “I try to sleep as much as possible. It’s probably not very restful sleep,” he runs a hand over his shaved head, “But… it’s nice to dream.”

You want to touch his face, touch the circles beneath his eyes. “There’s something I forgot to tell you. I completely forgot and then there just wasn’t any time to.” You hold the towel around your shoulders, taking a few steps toward him.

He looks scared, his throat bobbing as you approach.

“That night at the dance,” you start, “We were on the dance floor, and you were saying such wonderful things.” You shiver, “And I was afraid to admit the things I was feeling.”

Stiles’ eyes were growing wide. Wide and desperate. They were silently pleading with you. The very air surrounding you two seemed to be sucked out. A hitch is in your chest as you continue:

“I never got the chance to tell you… how I feel.”

His eyes were growing warm, tears lining his bottom lashes, “(Y/N)…”

“I like you too, Stiles,” you say with a proud smile. “I like you a lot.”

You watch the breath leave his lungs – like his chest had collapsed. He’s screwing up his face like he’s trying not to cry, but a tear falls anyway. “Really?”

You give a breathy laugh, voice choking on the emotion in your throat. “Really.” And you let the towel drop from your shoulders, launching yourself forward to crash your lips against his.

He stumbles back and grips your waist for support.

You stand in the entryway, holding his face and kissing him deeply. You tilt your head and make the kiss deeper; he follows a second behind you, still recovering. He’s shaking just as much as you are now.

Goosebumps erupt on your bare arms, and you pull away to look at him. Tears are smeared on both your cheeks.

“You remember?” he whispers softly, moving his hands to hold your face.

You run your hands down to his chest, “There’s this little trick with a werewolf and my spinal cord,” you shrug, unable to stop smiling. “It pulled everything back for me.”

He’s still trying not to cry, twisting his lips, “Thank god,” he gasps a sob. “Thank you god.” He pulls you in for another kiss, soft and tender this time. He wipes away the wet strands of hair framing your face.

You take a deep breath, tracing a finger up his chin to the soft skin beneath his eyes, “You really need to sleep.”

“I do,” he licks his lips, eyelashes sticking together with tears, “Just to see you.”

You take ahold of his wrists near your face, “You need real sleep.” You tug on his hands and lead the way upstairs. The rain continues to fall, accompanied by rumbling thunder. It gives you something to listen to as you enter Stiles’ bedroom.

You take a quick peek at the disarray: clothes strewn about the floor, old books open and stacked precariously on scrap paper, lacrosse equipment dirty with soil and grass piled in the hallway. The bed is scrambled like he was kicking in his sleep.

Pushing him to sit down on the mattress, you turn to move toward the dresser, but his hand clamps down on yours.

“Where are you going?”

You look back at the instant terror that envelops his face. “I’m just going to change out of my wet clothes.” You lean down to kiss his forehead, “I’ll be right back.”

At the dresser, you find a pair of plaid pajama pants and a shirt with a Doctor Who logo. In the hallway bathroom you change and comb through your hair. You’re hanging your wet clothes on the shower rod when you hear stuttered breaths coming from Stiles’ bedroom.

In a few quick steps you’re back in the room and see Stiles struggling to maintain his breathing. His eyes are still wet with tears and he’s holding his chest like it hurt. His head snaps to you when you enter, and a micro change happens in his expression – the smallest amount of relief.

You’re at his side in an instant, running your hands over his chest and to his face, “Stiles, it’s okay. I’m here and I remember. This isn’t a dream. We’re okay – I’m here.”

He nods his head, but still struggles to draw breath. He is fully panicking.

You grab the covers and pull them over you, crawling onto the bed and laying yourself over his body. Like a weighted blanket. You take deep breaths and hope he can mimic the feeling as he feels it against his torso.

One of his hands goes to your back, holding you to him. With his other, you intertwine your fingers. You pull your hands under your chin, giving them a kiss. With your head nestled into his chest, your free hand raises to be up by his pillow. You’re able to reach his short hair, running your fingers over his head in a soothing motion.

A tangle of limbs, your body holding his down, he starts to calm. He holds onto you like his life depends on it. Like if he lets go you’ll float back into his restless dreams.

It feels like hours later you both fall asleep, holding each other.

And it was the best sleep either of you have had in weeks.

~~~

Research Websites

Atrioventricular Canal Defect

Ventricular Tachycardia

Implantable Cardioverter-defibrillators (ICDs)

~~~

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#okayjhannah #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi x reader #teen wolf stiles #fandomfantasia

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herefortheships · 22 days ago

Note

You want another movie 3 speculation?

Ok, so I firmly believe that Lydia's dream at the end points to her subconscious worry that Betelgeuse might move on from her (and MacArthur Park is a song about moving on as best as you can after losing True Love) and target Astrid. With a compounding, and imo deeply fascinating, worry that her daughter (whom the movie/Delia seems to have cast as being very similar to Lydia, though personally I don't see it cause she seems too normal) might be happy with that. And I think that the bed-sharing might've been her brain - or B himself - pointing out the solution to that worry: Just give tf in and marry him already.

As an aside, a lot of Youtube synopses of that movie have AI-generated thumbnails of Betelgeuse threateningly/creepily hovering over Astrid, even though they barely interacted. Apparently lots if people's minds went there, at least for the sake of clickbait. Ffs, a guy tries to marry a teenager ONE time...

Anyway I think it would be hilarious if in movie 3 Lydia gets into trouble and Astrid calls on Betelgeuse for help, telling him she'll pay whatever he wants if only he saves her last remaing parent/family member, and he just goes: "Can you put in a good word with your Mom for me? Like, really talk me up. I didn't make the greatest first impression, and there were misunderstandings, and I don't think I'll have a shot if she thinks you'd disapprove" " I do disapprove!" "Well, just focus on the positives! Awesome powers, saved your life, has a massive di-... actually, forget about that last one. I mean, it's true, but wouldn't be helpful if you mentioned it."

So then they save Lydia, who'd be deeply, deeply worried bc her daughter seems to think B is a pretty cool guy actually, a woman could do worse for a husband. He's fun, he's helpful, he saved them, there's worse-looking dead people. So naturally, she'd find Betelgeuse and be like "If I marry you, will you leave her alone?" ...j/k, she'd try to exorcise him. We need spunky!Lydia back. She may be kind, but there are limits.

Mid-exorcism, Astrid clears up the misunderstanding about what sort of deal she's under, that he saved Lydia because he loves Lydia and without asking for anything bad in return, and points out that her deal didn't make her lie about B's good points. Lydia stops the exorcism via last-minute Green Card marriage. Betelgeuse does a whole triumphant, manic spiel about looking forward to moving in and starting married life. But first he's got to fetch some of his stuff (hc that he has just... so many clothes in an infinite magical wardrope somewhere). He draws a door with chalk, knocks, steps through. Walks slowly through the long, uneven hallway. Turns around to look back. Astrid whispers "If you took a step in there right now..." (Code 699) and Lydia goes "Yeah I know. [then, much louder] C'mon, let's ready the guest bedroom." *

We see Betelgeuse break out into a happy smile for a sec before the door slams shut.

*I don't think it would be believable if a movie ended with them being in passionate sappy Gomez-and-Morticia love. But there's no way that Betelgeuse³ will end without Lydia agreeing to keep him around. On a trial basis. With the understanding that she has the means to get rid of him if he misbehaves too much (he'll misbehave just the right amount).

It's an interesting headcanon that Lydia might have a subconscious fear about Betelgeuse making a move on Astrid. I've seen a few people mention it as well. It wouldn't be too far off to get to that conclusion, either, because of Lydia's past experience. Betelgeuse also had that flyer up in the attic just lying around. We as the audience know he likely put it out there for Lydia to find, because we saw him staring at her photo and talking to Bob earlier about how he's in a distant relationship with Lydia. We saw him trying to make contact and feeling triumphant because she might have finally noticed him that last time.

But Lydia doesn't have access to that info.; only we as the audience are privy to who Betelgeuse is actually after and how dead set he is on it, too. Only Lydia is the object of Betelgeuse's desires, even after thirty years. It wouldn't be a stretch to conclude that Lydia might fear Betelgeuse would go after her daughter, because at first she didn’t know what Betelgeuse was truly after; for all she knew, he’s still just looking for a way to get out and do evil mischief on the world of the living or whatever she thinks will happen if he’s out.

I personally don't think this is a fear she took with her at the end of the film, though. I think she has it clear now how Betelgeuse feels about her, and that he wouldn’t do something to her daughter. She might have thought it was a pretense before, or him being totally crazy, but after that dance mid-air, there's no way she doesn't know how he feels.

I think Babyjuice coming out of Astrid was just Betelgeuse turning Lydia's dream into a nightmare; a prank letting her know he hasn't left and he isn't planning on leaving her (he even thought it was strange himself lol). But yes, Lydia keeping a lingering fear about Betelgeuse going for Astrid is a solid headcanon as well, though it’s not my interpretation.

I know there are edits of Astrid wearing wedding clothes and Betelgeuse being creepy with her, but many of those were created before the movie was out, by people who thought the movie would be about Betelgeuse going after Astrid.

About Astrid putting up a good word for Betelgeuse with Lydia, that would be part of my dream-come-true story for Beetlejuice 3. I just want to see them explore Betelgeuse and Astrid's relationship as stepfather and stepdaughter. I think they'd get along great. As I've said before, Astrid hasn't really met Betelgeuse yet; she only knows two things about him: according to her mom, he's bad news. And yet, he helped save her life, and all it was going to cost was her mom marrying him and not being able to say his name (though he's totally chill with her calling him her "dad", which I totally love and will always bring it up 😂💜).

I wish the movie will end with Lydia and Betelgeuse being finally married, or at least together in love, but I'll accept them not getting married as well, as long as they’re on the way there as friends who may fall in love, and Lydia doesn't end up banishing him yet again or squirming out of another marriage deal. That'd be repetitive at that point. As for Betelgeuse being banished forever or destroyed, that will totally never happen; Tim, Michael, and especially the WB wouldn't allow that to happen. Not only do Tim and Michael love Betelgeuse, he's also a money-maker and widely beloved character for the WB, so it'd be dumb for them to end the movie with Betelgeuse being sent away forever or perma-killed.

To end my ramblings, I totally love the idea of Astrid and Betelgeuse working together in the next one and Astrid helping her mom see the good in him/putting a good word in for him. That'd be fun to watch.

I do have a feeling lately that if the do make the third part (which is looking more likely every day), they will be taking it in the direction of establishing Lydia, Betelgeuse, and Astrid as a family. I'm getting that vibe because I've seen an official promo TikTok about Astrid's family being strange, which kinda hints at Lydia and Betelgeuse being Astrid's family/her parents. Not to mention, the DVD cover photo has those three front and center, instead of having something like Betelgeuse big in the middle and the Deetz women all together below or something like that; a choice was made to have Lydia, Betelgeuse, and Astrid together front and center. Those little details have me like 👀, I'm getting a vibe that we're being led to see them as a family. But don't take my words for fact, it's just what I'm observing.

Thank you for sending me your speculations! I love and appreciate exchanging ideas with everyone. 💚✨

#Beetlejuice 3 headcanons #Beetlejuice 3 hopes #Beetlejuice Beetlejuice #Beetlejuice #Beetlebabes #Beetlejuice x Lydia #Betelgeuse x Lydia #Beetlejuice found family #Betelgeuse Lydia and Astrid #Anon #Anon questions #anonymous questions #answers #Beetlejuice meta #Things I write

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gemini-sensei · 6 months ago

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I NEED TO BABY SHY!ELI SO BAD. whenever i see him i just need to kiss him and tell him he’s such a good boy 😭 ive been thinking of chubby big chested rich goth reader who loves to spoil and coddle eli. she loves to buy him snacks and meals and other little nerd things he likes like video games etc (maybe also spoil demetri too cus he deserves it). when it comes to kyler and other bullies, reader tell them to kick rocks and then goes to eli to comfort him and show him how much he means to her *wink wonk*

all in all i need shy eli so bad

First of all, being rich would qualify Reader to be a part of the popular crowd at school, but she doesn't care for that sort of stuff. Popularity means nothing to her,so I feel like she had to at some point have a confrontation or conversation with the likes of Kyler or Yasmine about it. They would have wanted to be her friend just because she is rich like them but either one of them would have said something about her needing to lose weight or change her style to be a part of their group. Reader would have let them ramble on because they look so dumb talking to her like this; she lets them give their whole speel before she turns down their offer and tells them how she'd never wanna be seen dead with them before walking away.

She's so goth and pretty. Black is most definitely her color and pretty dresses with spider web patterned lace. I just know she uses her family's money to buy the most gorgeous clothes and emaculate makeup to make herself into a goth queen. She's the school's resident goth and doesn't care that the preppy valley kids give her weird looks. She is so happy with herself and doesn't let anyone else's thoughts or comments get to her. She does give a hard side eye to the preppy girl that wants to be Lydia Deetz at the Halloween dance because she'd never wear that outfit or anything like it outside of the creepy holiday. So she wore a better version of the costume because she can, and it looked better on her figure anyway.

Her style is definitely what caught Eli's eye, however, unlike the other kids at their school, he's admiring her from afar. He's not scared to approach her because of her outward expression, but because he's too shy to talk to girls - especially gorgeous, busty, goth girls like Reader.

He tries not to stare at her but he's so obvious. Reader knows when he's staring from across the room and always looks his way, smirking and sending him flirty looks. He blushes if he catches them, but for the most part he looks down a little embarrassed. He doesn't have to be though because Reader likes his attention.

Once they are together, Eli doesn't know how to react to her gifts. The snacks and such, that's fine. He says thank you and blushes because she's taking care of him, but the video games and other material gifts she spoils him with, he's unsure about. He can't so no but he also thinks he's undeserving of them. She assures he knows he's more than worthy of these gifts with lots of affirmation in the form of kisses. He happily accepts him but it takes a looong time before he believes he deserves her gifts. (And as she becomes friends with the nerdy Demetri, she gets him gifts too because he's just so fun to hangoutnwith; she'd enjoy his sarcasm. )

Eli unsurprisingly likes to cuddle. He's touch starved and being in a relationship with a beautiful, curvy person like Reader who likes to show affection through touch is so nice for him. He won't admit it unless she asks, and only if it's her who asks, but he likes to cuddle his face into her tits. These kinds of cuddles always lead to something more going on 😈 usually ending with Eli using her tits as pillows. He's a tits guy, no doubt about it. More on that a little later.

If Reader happens to see Eli getting bullied by Kyler and his croons, she's not having it. She interveins immediately because no one messes with her man. She tells Kyler to go fuck off with his friend since they like being up each other's asses so much before taking Eli away. If he's crying over whatever Kyler said of did, she comforts him with hugs and lots of kisses. He buries her face in her tits and tries to suck it up, thinking himself a wimp for crying in front of his girlfriend. She remedies these thoughts by lifting his head and kissing him, swiping his tears away with her thumbs as she assures him that she likes him just the way he is.

If he says anything disparaging against himself, she tells him how wrong that is because he's amazing and totally worth love. When he doesn't say anything, she asks if she can show him how much she loves him and he nods quietly and she'll start kissing his neck.

Cut to him pinned under her as she bounces on his cock, his groans and grunts of pleasure unable to be quieted. Her name leaving his lips as he plays with her tits and watches her belly jiggle so pretty from the force with which she is riding him with. When he starts getting whiny, she knows what he wants and leans forward so her tits are in his face. He sucks on them and squeezes them, moaning around her nipple and making her grin. She loves pleasing him and showing him how much she loves him.

Once she makes him come at least three time, they stop and she makes sure he had water and snacks and just everything he needs. However, all he tells her he needs is her and he cuddles up to her side and lays his head on her tits - her tits that he sucked on until they're puffy and swollen, covered in spit and bit marks because she made him feel oh so good he couldn't help it. And she's just laying there, playing with his hair while his load leaks from her overstuffed cunt, totally pleased with herself and the number she did on him. He's out like a light in just two minutes and she watches him sleep until she inevitably needs some rest too.

#shy!eli #goth!reader #eli moskowitz x chubby reader #eli moskowitz headcanons #eli moskowitz x reader #eli moskowitz #eli moskowitz smut #eli hawk moskowitz #cobra kai #cobra kai headcanons #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai x chubby reader #cobra kai x plus size reader #chubby reader #plus size reader #gemini sensei #cobra kai smut

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retroellie · 11 months ago

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Looking out for you

Summary: When the whisperers are knocking at your door, a war is just waiting to happen. However, this war goes far beyond just a war this time.

A/N: Hey :) i wrote this a while back but i just decided to finish it. I was going to write a smut for it but honestly i was not in the mood for smut today, so here's a little fluff/angst for your day <3 Also i miss y'all so much!!

Warnings: regular TWD content, mentions of miscarriage and death

Word count: 3.5K

Tomorrow is the day, the day you will experience the place you once called home become a battlefield, the people you love become soldiers, and the world feels as though it is ending once again. You didn’t want this war, no one did but the whisperers wouldn’t let up. They were a tough group, very different than any group you have ever been up against but your people were even stronger, you have all been through hell and back.

You would not let the whispers destroy your home without a fight, none of you would. You all have experienced loss too many times, Glenn, Rick, Jesus, Carl… the list goes on. You were all angry, ready to pounce on anything that came too close. You all knew it needed to be done but you didn’t want to, you were against it. You had been fighting for so long, so hard that you were exhausted. You think you're becoming depressed, more depressed than usual.

The other wars you fought were different, no one depended on you, you weren’t too close to anyone. Sure they were your family but if you died, you’d just be another name on the wall at Alexandria. This time it was different because you had someone who depended on you, you had people who depended on you. You had Lydia, rj and Judith, the entire community of hilltop all looking at you but most importantly, you had Daryl.

You guys had made it official before Ricks disappearance, it wasn’t anything too romantic but the night started with you two checking around the walls of Alexandria and it ended with Daryl tongue fucking your face. You both had been close with each other, looking out for each other and making sure the other was safe. So it was almost like you two had already been dating, the kiss just made it real for the two of you.

But he was why the war this time was different, if you lost him… you couldn’t recover. You swore the sun would stop shining, water would evaporate and never come back down, buildings would burn and your world would completely stop. You thought it would be bad to lose him but oh… if he lost you. He had already planned on going with you, you weren’t going to leave him by himself again, he refused. Even if you didn’t lose each other, you would still lose something in this war.

You had a bad feeling about this, you knew it would bring great loss this time around and grief wouldn’t be too kind to you. So here you were, in the middle of the night when everyone else was asleep, only the patrols were wide awake… searching for any movement to sound the alarm. You were sitting on the porch stairs, watching as the wind blew through the leaves of the trees. It was a cold night, so you lit up a cigarette to keep you warm.

It was the first time that you were able to think, the silence of it all leaving you alone with your thoughts. You were terrified to say the least, you had never felt this way about anything, not like this. You could tell everyone was on edge, even Daryl. When you saw the look on his face when he came through the gates with Lydia, he tried to hold back his fear but you knew. That was the first time you had ever seen Daryl scared, which automatically set deep fear within you.

“You’re gonna freeze out here.” A voice said, startling you.

You turned to see who it was, but slowly calming as you saw it was just Daryl. He tried to give you a warm smile but you were far too scared to even acknowledge it. You turned around, back to where you were looking before. You forgot how beautiful fall months could be, the leaves had already started to turn into beautiful shades of red, yellow, orange and brown.

You just shrugged, taking a long drag of the cigarette before exhaling. You didn’t care if you froze where you were now, the beautiful view making you feel at peace for a moment. You could hear Daryl shift behind you, seeing him from your peripheral. Daryl sat down next to you, the wood of the porch creaking as he did so. you wondered if you and Daryl did survive this, what would happen next? What enemy would you have to fight after this? How would the next fuck up start and were you even ready for it?

“Sorry, I haven’t been here for you, just so much going on.” He said, watching as you took another long drag of your cigarette.

He wanted to be here with you, desperately but as of right now everyone is looking up to you two for answers. Carol was a wreck, the king was now coming to terms with his cancer, Maggie wasn’t here, Jesus was dead, Tara was dead… it was only you two left now, you two made the shots now. Neither of you wanted this though, All Daryl wanted was to run away with you. To New Mexico… he even had a plan for it.

“‘S okay, I get it.” You said, passing your cigarette over to him.

Daryl took it, taking a long drag of it. He could taste your chapstick on it, the taste bringing back memories of the night spent pleasuring each other. Daryl could sense your nervousness, your fear or whatever you want to call it. You were usually quiet, you allowed others to talk and you would listen, Daryl swore he had been the only one to hear you speak more than 2 words but your quietness now felt off.

He knew you and he knew you well, he knew that you hid your emotions and that you hated talking about your feelings. But the thing you hated most was awkward silences, they were the loudest thing to you. You couldn’t even enjoy the silence because the awkwardness blocked it out, you hated them. So you allowing one to happen right now, hinted to Daryl that something was wrong.

“Rj today wore my vest, it was ten t…” he started, not being able to finish before you dropped a bomb on him.

“I’m scared Daryl.” You said, turning your head to face him for the first time.

Daryl felt his heart throb, you were doing something you hated the most and you were doing it with tears in your eyes. You’re staring at him and he’s staring back at you, the cigarette in his hand blowing smoke into his eyes but he never once looked away. He could see it on your face, pure fear.

“What?” He asked dumbfounded as you blinked slowly at him.

“I know what you're trying to do, trying to ease the silence but you can’t Daryl because you’re worried, it’s written all over your face” You started, reaching out for the cigarette. “So no Daryl… I��m not okay, I’m fucking scared.”

You took the cigarette, breathing in its air, allowing the toxic air to burn into your lungs. Daryl continued to watch you even after you had started looking up at the trees once more. He wasn't sure what was next to say, should he question you further or should you both just suffer in silence. Daryl hated that he couldn’t do anything for you, especially now. Everyone was scared, Everyone... and if you were scared then there was no hope for anything.

Daryl had left you alone a lot lately, allowing you to figure shit out alone and he felt terrible for it but this wasn’t the first time he left you alone. When Rick died he disappeared, you would visit him for a couple days but then you’d go back to being alone. It’s not that he wanted to leave you ever, things just got in the way. So you being terrified was bound to happen at some point, not being able to lean on someone else would eventually catch up to you.

Daryl looked down at his hands, seeing how they absentmindedly fidgeted together. You had that effect on Daryl, you made him feel like a scared teenager in love sometimes. He never quite knew what to say and how to say it, sometimes words would get lost in his head when he was near you.

“You uh… you want to talk about it?” He asked, stuttering out his words.

You weren’t the only one bad with feelings, Daryl could physically not get the words out but he so desperately wanted you to know he was there for you. He wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to say in this situation or if you would even want to speak about everything happening, again Daryl hadn't been around for you recently, he hadn’t been there for you.

“Not really…” you admitted, taking another drag of the cigarette. It had become a small bud at this point, but you once again passed it to Daryl. “But I will because you're my boyfriend and I won't leave you in the dark… not now.”

Daryl couldn’t even bring the cigarette up to his lips this time, he just stared down at the burning end of it. There was another awkward silence but it only lasted for a minute or two. You needed time to form your thoughts and calm your mind before you told him what had been aching in your mind for days now. You brought your arms together, wrapping them around your cold body as you rubbed warmth into yourself.

“What if this is our last fight?” You asked, biting your lip as you tried to hold back tears. “I mean, we’ve already lost so many people. Jesus, Tara, Henry…enid.”

Your breath hitched when enid's name fell from your lips, she was a little sister to you and losing her felt like it was the end of the world. She reminded you of Carl, so strong and knew exactly who she was. She was the last thing you had of Carl and now she was gone, you couldn’t bare to see her on that pole… it almost killed you.

“It’s only a matter of time before I lose you too, so what if this is it? What if we fight tomorrow and you end up getting stabbed or bitten… or you lose me.” You couldn’t stop the tears now, they flowed from your eyes as you looked over at him.

“We’ve fought before Y/N… this is just another hiccup.” He tried to reassure you but it didn’t help, it only made the anger build up in your heart even more.

“No Daryl… this is different because it’s not just us this time.” You said, trying to explain but it just didn't want to come out the way you wanted it to.

“What? Judith and rj? I mean Judith knows how to fight and rj won’t..” he started but you stopped him once again.

“Daryl… I didn’t mean them.” You said, wanting to let it all out of your system before it ate you up alive.

He was staring at your cigarette still in his hands, you were about to drop a huge bomb on him… even bigger than what you’d already dropped on him. You couldn’t lose him without him knowing though, he needed to know. You sighed, wiping your tears away from your eyes before setting your hands in your lap.

“I think I’m pregnant.”

Daryl choked on his own spit, his face drained of blood and he dropped the cigarette. What the actual fuck, was all he could think. He had dreamed of getting you pregnant, so many times he lost count but it can’t be happening now… not now. He just stayed silent, it was the only thing he could do because he had no idea how he felt. He wanted to run away, he wanted to scream, he wanted to cry so he just stayed as still as he could.

“I thought maybe it was a stomach bug, I was throwing up every time I smelled food and I couldn’t keep shit down but then I realized I was late 3 weeks…” you explained, curing yourself up into a ball to make yourself as small as possible. “I know my mom was like this when she was pregnant with my siblings so I’m just putting two and two together.”

Daryl felt like the world was closing in on him, to add onto his shitty couple months he’s had you drop this on him. It’s not like he didn’t want kids with you but god damn he really wished he'd wrapped it up right now, so many bad things could happen to you right now. He wanted to kiss you, he wanted to make sure you knew he was here but he couldn’t. He was stuck frozen but his eyes had started to burn, from the smoke or from the tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

“Shit…” was all he could muster up to say.

You chuckled at his reaction, watching as he slowly freaked out. You knew you were ready for a kid, you had been ever since you meant Daryl but it was the wrong time. You didn’t know if you could fight, the risks of you getting killed or you losing the baby was high. The whisperers didn’t fuck around, you knew what was going to come from this war. It wasn’t just you two now, you had someone depending on you and it wasn’t just Daryl or the others. With this is was different because the others can survive if you didn't, but this baby... it quite literally depended on your survival.

“Shit is right… you got me knocked up by Daryl Dixon.” You chuckled, wiping your tears with your sweater.

You both just sat in silence, allowing your words to consume the both of you. You felt you couldn’t breathe in this moment but at the same time you felt you could finally breathe, this overwhelmed you more than it did Daryl. You knew what risks could happen, the risks that Lori had and she died because of them. This world was cruel, it wouldn’t allow you to be happy, it wouldn’t let you be happy with the man you love and your child in your arms.

You never wanted to be a mother, you rejected that life but you can see it now. You crave it now, you crave coming home after a long day to see Daryl and your child passed out on the couch. You crave to walk into your child’s room, seeing Daryl reading to your sleeping child, then coming to your room to make love to you. You would have never thought you would want this but you were tired, you wanted to settle down with daryl. The silence was still hovering heavily in the air when you came back to earth from your thoughts.

“Daryl… please tell me what you’re thinking. You know I hate when you don’t talk to me…” You begged for him to speak, to tell you it was okay and that you had nothing to worry about.

“Think you should stop smoking.” He stated, as if he didn’t hear you.

You couldn’t help but get frustrated with him, you didn’t mean to, you just did. Maybe it was the hormones or the weight you were feeling but you wanted to scream at him. People would die, good people and you were both putting yourself at risk because of some petty drama with the whisperers. You were ready to leave this all behind you, you wanted to run away and all Daryl can think about is your health?

“Seriously? Daryl…” you sighed, face heating up. “People are going to die, we are risking our lives with this war and all you can think about is my smoking habit.”

You set your head in your hands, curling into a ball so hopefully the earth would consume you. You hated this feeling, the fear and the anger that you held in your chest. It weighs you down and you wanted it to stop, you wanted it to stop so badly that you could feel yourself tearing yourself apart just to ease it. Daryl looked calm now, his hands still fidgeting but he was calm… you hated how calm he looked because how could he be calm?

“Yeah, I’m looking out for you… just like I always have.” He replied, his voice laced with reassurance. “Y/N, have I ever not protected you? Have I ever left you? Left you without coming back?”

You looked over at Daryl, he was already looking back at you. His eyes were calm, like calm ocean waves that you could fall into if you weren’t careful. Daryl needed you to know he was here and he wasn’t going anywhere. He needed you to know, he didn’t care if he had to pound it into you or keep you up all night craving it into your skin… you needed to know. You shook your head, sure if you were to speak you would start sobbing. Daryl smiled, moving in closer so his legs were touching yours.

“Exactly, I never have and I don’t plan on doing it now.” He said, bringing his hand up to wipe your tears away. “People will die but they will die fighting for the future of Alexandria and hilltop, our future y/n. They are the ones who are going to give our kid a chance, it’s sad but it’s what has to happen.”

His hands were cradling your face, slowly caressing your cheeks as tears continued to stream down them. Seeing you like this, so broken down, had Daryl’s eyes prickling with warm tears.

“I will make sure we see another day, bunny… I promise that, okay?” He reassured, watching as you nodded, making it known you were trusting him.

He brought you into a hug, you melted into him. You couldn’t help the sobs that you let out, grabbing onto him with dead life. You were so scared but his words soothed your fears, now your tears flowed out simply because you were so in love with him. He always made sure you were okay, no matter what was wrong he always knew how to make you feel better.

You had hope of seeing another tomorrow, you could see you two going into war now. Hand in hand as you fought, fought harder than you ever had. You were going to see another tomorrow, you promised it. You were going to be selfish for the first time in years and you were doing this for you, you were going to survive for you. Daryl’s hand soothingly pet your head, massaging your scalp as you let your tears flow out of your eyes.

“We’re gonna be okay bunny…” he whispered, leaving small kisses to your hair line.

You nodded once more, taking in his words as you cuddled into him. You stayed like this for a bit, allowing the moment to take you in with loving arms. You broke away from the hug after the moment had felt like an eternity, you looked at him with tear filled eyes as they continued to pour out of your eyes. Daryl kept his hands on you, his hands slowly rubbing circles on your skin

“Daryl.” You said, almost in a whisper.

“Yeah?” He replied

You felt so many emotions, so many overwhelming emotions so it wasn’t surprising when you wanted Daryl to take you to bed and love you like it’s the last time. Your fear of the war still lingered even though it had been dulled, you still wanted Daryl to bore his words into your skin so you’ll never forget it. It would honestly just give you an excuse to forget everything.

“Whether we make it or not…” you started, watching as Daryl’s eyebrows furrowed, wondering what would come next. "I want you to take me to the bed room... and fuck me like it's the last time."

Daryls taken back by this, one minute you were in a tear-filled rant and now you are asking to be fucked. Daryl took a minute to realize you were being serious, seeing the lust that had taken over your eyes. Your tear-streaked face looking up at him with puppy dog eyes, he couldn't say no to you. Daryl smiled, standing up and handing you his hand.

"Anything for you..." He put it simply, watching you reach your hand out to connect to his.

The night was far from over, filled with "i love you"'s and the sound of the both of you moaning. You made sure if one of you hadn't made it, the other was carved into your skin. Obviously, Daryl knew this was not going to be the last time you were together, Daryl was a fighter and he made sure nothing ever happened to you, that mindset wasn't going to stop for him now.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon #the walking dead #twd daryl #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon x reader

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romana-after-dark · 1 year ago

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Blessed Be The Fruit

Commander!Joel Miller x Handmaid!Reader

Series masterlist

Summary: A few decades into Gilead’s conception, you head into your first posting as a handmaid after an affair with a guardian landed you in trouble. Determined to keep your head low in order to keep your son safe, you take on the moniker of OfJoel. Commander Miller has very little to do with you and mrs. Miller regards you with disgust, however you find solace in an unlikely friendship with Commander Miller’s daughter from a handmaid 14 years ago, Ellie who just got done with wives school. You and your friend, Ofthomas start teacher her and her friend Reilly under her mothers nose. Slowly, Commander Miller begins spending time with you and you begin to learn more about the man he was before and an affair begins outside the confines of the ceremony. Although initially you go along with it out if survival, you find yourself falling for the version of Joel you saw in these late night rendezvous.

Which Joel is really him, and how will he react when his own daughters secrets are revealed?

Content and Warnings: DARK JOEL! DUB CON!

Although no violent rape happens like in TWW, reader is under systemic misogyny and a society of ritualized sex abuse. Everything other than the violent rape scenes, everything that happen in either The Handmaids Tale book or show are liable to happen here including but not limited to discussion of rape, child abuse, child marriage, ritualized sexual abuse, sexual abuse in general, acts of violence, major character deaths, mentions of miscarriage but never shown and never pregnancies we know of. Big ole homophobia warning, specifically in regards to lesbophobia. As for Joel, PIV sex, breeding kink, degrading (slut, whore etc but thing like Raider!joel) forced breeding and breeding kink, power dynamics, Joel is not the good guy but he’s also not the worst, slightly rough sex but not violent. Warnings are liable to be added as the story goes but I’ll always update. As always if I miss something please tell me, but i extensively label my warnings and in the end media consumption is your own choice. If you would like to know if this is a happy ending or not you can message me and I’ll tell you that way I don’t spoil for everyone but you can decide if this is for you.

Immersability: Reader has long hair, can conceive children theoretically. At one point, she has to pose as Ellie's mother and I know this can be loaded in terms of skin tone. I am no genetics expert but I know dark skinned parents can have white passing children, like Lional Richie and Nicole Richie. It's up to you to see if this is going to take you out of the story or not.

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Aunt Lydia said your first posting would be a difficult one, but that she took pride is matching up Handmaids to the right households and said she thinks it will be a solid posting. A peaceful household is the best conditions to conceive a child in, after all. Stress isn’t good for the baby, dear.

She gave you all the details, everything you needed to know. You would known as Ofjoel for the time of your posting; three years unless you conceive, God willing. Commander Miller was known as a fair man and a good father to the child he had, a 14 year old named Elizabeth who had only recently returned from wives school. Gildead had been eagerly awaiting news of her being betrothed, but Commander Miller was very particular. Nothing but the best for his daughter. Elizabeth was the product of a handmaid that had been posted with him 15 years ago at the advent of Gilead; one of the first 3 successful children of the new state. Their family had a bit of celebrity in that sense. Joel had declined handmaids for years ever since, saying he had his child and it was only fair that others got a chance. A good man, dear, always thinking of his countrymen.

Mrs. Miller, she warned, can be a bit particular. But that shouldn’t be a problem for a well behaved girl like you, dear. You were well behaved, that was true. After you were taken away from your life with your husband, your son was taken and given to an unknown high ranking family. All you wanted to do was be passive and quiet and behave so no harm came to your son.

“Ah, welcome. Blessed be the fruit.” A beautiful woman in blue with dark hair braided back greeted you at the porch. Behind her was a young girl, Elizabeth you assumed, who looked less than thrilled to be there and behind her was a Martha. In front of Mrs. Miller, however, you see him. He was tall, handsome, a strong alkaline nose and medium brown curls slicked back in an attempt to tame them.

Aunt Lydia spoke for you. You weren’t to speak unless spoken too. “Thank you, may the lord open! Mrs. Miller, Commander Miller. Oh, Elizabeth! Look how you’ve grown!” Lydia greeted the teenager who refused to put on a smile.

“Elizabeth, be polite.” Her mother chided, but it wasn’t until Commander Miller whispered a small ‘Ellie’ that the girl put on a small and curtsied.

Mrs. Miller invited aunt Lydia in for tea, but she declined, saying goodbye to you and telling you to be good before you were ushered inside. As Mrs. Miller introduced the household, you felt Commander Miller’s intense stare on you, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

“Our daughter, Elizabeth, is to be betrothed soon, God willing.”

Elizabeth groaned. “Great.”

“Your attitude is exactly why we can’t find you a match, young lady.” Mrs. Miller snapped, turning to her daughter with a glare. “That and the fact you keep sneaking second helpings-”

At that, Commander Miller walked over to where his wife was berating the girl. “She hasn’t found a match because I haven't found anyone suitable for her. She’s a shining star of Gilead, Gina, and I’m not going to send her off to just anyone.”

You watched as Mrs. Miller glared at him before her eyes fluttered over to you, and suddenly you felt like the outside you were.

Commander Miller kissed the crown of Elizabeth’s hair, gently nudging her off. “Go to your room, I’ll walk you to Reilly’s after I’m done here, alright?” Women couldn’t walk alone, God forbid. It was for your safety, right?

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but agreed and left the room, the commander looking back to his wife. “You have to stop berating her like that, she’s a good kid.”

Mrs. Miller walked a step closer. “She’s a brat, she’ll never have a successful marriage if she can’t submit to her-”

“Woman, I told you to drop it!” Commander Miller’s voice raised up just a little, enough to tell his wife to leave it alone.

With a huff, Mrs. Miller left the room mumbling that he can deal with the help, and how this is why they were getting a new handmaid and baby in the first place.

As she walked away, Commander Miller scrubbed his face and sighed, eventually looking over towards you and seeming startled by your presence. He sighed again. The way he looked at you… he didn’t look past you like everyone else seemed to do, he didn’t look at you like furniture. “Ellie’s going through a phase right now. Gilead has seemed to forget that teenagers are still teenagers, no matter the birthing crisis.”

You want to ask him whose fault that was. You want to remind him that he was one of the sons of Jacob who created this entire system… but you weren’t looking to die today.

“She’s a good kid, smart.” He pressed on, like he was looking for a response. Smart was an odd choice of words. Women weren’t meant to be smart, they were meant to be pretty, fertile, godly, kind, demure.

You down cast your eyes. “Of course, sir.”

Commander Miller urged you along showing you all the parts of the house. The bottom floor held the kitchen where you would be helping the Martha, Lisa, the dining room, parlor, all the miscellaneous living areas and way in the back was Commander Miller’s office. Upstairs was a second bathroom, the master suite, Elizabeth’s room (or Ellie, as he called her), and Lisa’s room and then yours towards the end. He excused himself there.

“Make yourself as comfortable as possible.” He urged. It was strange, the way he acted was not how you had expected. For such a prominent commander whose daughter was almost like royalty, you expect a harsher man; someone to match his wife’s strict standards. However, it seemed he was… almost normal, whatever that meant. “I’m going to walk my daughter to her friend’s house, but I’ll be back if you have any questions. Lisa would probably appreciate some help with dinner for once.”

“Yes commander”

You were in elementary school when Gilead was formed. Your parents were christian and church goers so you were allowed to grow up with them in the lower class regions and were married off to another man of lower stock, and it was years before you became pregnant with your son. Problem was that this son looked nothing like his father, and a paternity test revealed your secret, landing you in the position you were at now.

The day dragged on. Between you and Lisa, there wasn’t much to do to keep the household clean for the three other people that lived there, even with Mrs. Miller’s strict standards. Tomorrow you would meet your walking partner, and hopefully have activities to fill more of your day until your first ceremony.

That night, you woke up to use the bathroom, but when you walked out you were met face to face with Commander Miller. He was even taller like this, even dressed down out of his boots. White tee shirt and dark pants were under his long road and his previously slicked back hair was unfurled into soft, messy curls. His face was still sweaty; he smelled like sex. You hadn’t really thought if Commander’s still fucked their wives… but you suppossed there was no reason not to. Gina was beautiful, after all, and so was Commander Miller.

He towered over you, breaths almost shared in the close confines of the hallway. “Sorry.” He murmured in a whisper and moved, heading downstairs to his office or a midnight snack. A little shaken at being so close to a man, a man of such rank and power… that very power emanated off him in wafts of manly musk. You ran into Elizabeth as you exited the bathroom and she looked as startled to see you as you did Commander Miller.

“Excuse me.” She said as she slipped past and you re-entered your room, only to peek out as she was tiptoeing down the stairs and turning towards Commander Miller’s office. It was strange to see, but you supposed fathers were fathers, no matter the horrors they created for other women. Did he realize he was setting his own daughter up for this life? Especially a girl as headstrong as she seemed to be?

The sun was bright, the early fall only requiring your long sleeve dress as you stood outside but behind the gate of your new home, Mrs. Miller standing beside you to make the introduction. Your walking partner was your next door neighbors handmaid.

“Ofthomas is my brother-in-law’s handmaiden. I assume you’ll meet their family this week, we usually keep weekly dinner’s at each other’s homes every Friday, we host this week. Tommy- Commander Miller, I mean, is certainly… interesting. Very kind, but don’t like me catch him being kind to you alone.” Mrs. Miller shot you a warning eye and you understood. Despite having wives and handmaids to fuck, men were never satisfied.

“Ofthomas, there you are. You’re late.”

Ofthomas curtsied. “Apologies, Ma’am”

“Hm. This is Ofjoel, our new handmaiden.”

You bow your head and Ofthomas bows back, and Mrs. Miller opened the gate, allowing you to begin your walk to the store. To say you were nervous was an understatement. You could never tell who an eye was, and certainly couldn’t tell who a true believer was. Did Ofthomas believe everything she had been taught? It was never safe to say anything, never safe to question or complain to a single person lest they turn you-

“So what’s your real name?” Ofthomas asked.

You jolt, turning to her in shock. “Excuse me?!” Wide-eyes, you wonder if this is a trap, she had to be trapping you, right?

Ofthomas smiled at you, it was friendly but teasing as if she knew you’d react like this. Her dark hair peaked out of her wimple, as uncontrollable as she was, it seemed. “My name’s Angela.”

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@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @dins-riduur-anthe @morallyinept @fan-fiction-floozy @med494 @taliarose12 @flvrdoll @k-ra @sam-2me @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @moriartyyouwhore @hereforthepedrofanfic @alwaysmicado @noisynightmarepoetry @kyloispunk

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renjunniex · 1 year ago

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Thank You, For Being You

Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader Series

Omega Part 1

A/n: This mini-ish series will take place from season 2-3. Also just a disclaimer I’m not POC and when i write i always imagine myself in the situation I’m writing and then describe it accordingly of course i will do my absolute best to keep this inclusive for everyone however if i make a mistake please feel free to let me know! This is also my first ever x reader story, I’ve always done OCs when writing on other platforms so be patient with me please! Thank you and love you guys! <3

Prompt: after everything that happened with Peter had finally been resolved it was time to watch over Lydia, unfortunately not everything goes to plan.

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You were sitting in the hospital waiting room with Stiles, who was unfortunately snoring and very clearly dreaming about Lydia. Stiles rolled over in the chair, mumbling some nonsense you could care less about. However, it still made you chuckle, he’s been in love with her since you could remember and while you wished he would just leave it alone you knew he couldn’t.

Melissa walked through the door with Lydia’s father, he glanced at you and Stiles before pointing to you guys, “He’s been here all morning.” Melissa’s eyes met where the man was looking, “He’s been here all weekend.”

You chuckled and looked over to Stiles just in time to see him unknowingly freak out a poor staff lady with his sleep talking, “Sorry, he’s little… well as you can see, an odd sleeper.” She rolled her eyes before walking away, clearly not wanting to be bothered. You bumped Stiles in the stomach with your elbow and he shook awake making the balloon that was tied to the chair swish in his face.

“I’m going to get going, I’m exhausted and these chairs were not made for sleeping, even though you seem to have figured it out.” He glared at you before sitting up completely, “Did you want me to drive you home?”

You shook your head slightly, “No, don’t worry about it, Melissa’s house isn’t too far from here and I could use the fresh air after everything that’s happened.” He nodded understanding what you meant, from Scott’s werewolf problems, to Peter being an absolute menace to our grade point averages, and to top it all off your new abilities that awoke when Scott was bitten (you guys still have no idea what it is), it seemed that you guys didn’t even have time to breathe for a while.

“I’m just going to let Melissa know that I’m heading home and then I’ll be on my way,” You smiled and with a wave exchange between the both of you, you turned and made your way to the front door, where Melissa was standing behind the desk. You gave your parting words and she gave the motherly warning of “be careful” that you’re beyond used to at this point.

You see you are Y/N L/N, no relation to Melissa McCall or her son that you’ve known since you learned to talk, but your parents were in some accident when you were little and from then on Melissa and Sheriff Stilinksi took care of you. At first it was just them switching off every few weeks, then after Scott’s dad left you stayed exclusively with the Sheriff and when Melissa was able to move on from that event she took you in completely. You’ve been with her ever since, Stiles and Scott were like your brothers, always there for you when you needed it. Never made you feel like you were the odd one out, even though you were. That didn’t matter though, because you had all you needed, the perfect family in your eyes.

Your thoughts got interrupted by the sound of a machine, you turned your head in the direction of the sound only to realize you had reached the cemetery without realizing and it was Isaac Lahey working the machine. ‘His dad must’ve made him work a night shift, again.’

You actually knew the boy pretty well, you were in Chemistry together, even had a project you two were paired together for. He was such a sweet guy, insanely cute too although that you would never admit to anyone but yourself.

You knew to a slight degree of what his dad has done to him, you wanted to tell someone but the tall boy had a panic attack at just the thought of the idea. He said it was because if things were to go wrong he couldn’t bare the thought of his dad trying to hurt you.

You decided you were gonna stop by and keep him company for a while before making your way back home. You walked into the dark graveyard, making your way towards the rig that Isaac sat on so clearly focused on his work. He only noticed you when you raised your hand in the air and let your voice ring out.

“You seem quite focused over there, you wouldn’t mind some company, right?” You questioned with a slight smile on your face.

You could see his eyes just so slightly light up to the point where you could’ve probably made yourself believe you imagined it. “No, no, I wouldn’t mind, so long as you don’t mind being slightly uncomfortable in this one person seat.” He smiled so softly and you have to admit it made your heart flutter ever so slightly.

You put your hand over your heart and with a sarcastic look and tone you gasped, “Oh no, stuck in a one person seat with the ever so charming, Isaac Lahey? How ever will I cope?” He chuckled at your response and reached a hand out for you to take.

“Thank you my dear Prince Charming.” You said with a fake accent.

“Prince Charming, huh?” He inquired while holding onto your hand. You smiled and gave him a proud nod, “Yep, only a prince would allow a peasant like me to sit in this amazing contraption.” You gestured to the yellow machinery. He huffed amusedly before silently going back to his work and for the next ten minutes you both just basked in each other’s presence. You looked down and saw your hands still interlocked, you could almost feel your heart stop in that moment. Without even thinking more about it, you gave Isaac’s hand a small squeeze and right away you felt him squeeze your hand back.

You looked up at him, “Hey Isaac?”

“Yes, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing! I just was wondering if maybe you-”

Your phone rang before you even got a chance to finish, you sighed and gave him an apologetic look to which he shrugged it off in a light hearted manner. You looked down at your phone, which was still ringing, only to see a name that instantly made you worry.

Stiles?

Why would he be calling right now?

You answered the phone, only to hear the stuttering and chaotic mess that is the young Stilinksi boy, “Y/N!” You pulled the phone away from your ear, it caused Isaac’s head to snap to you, his eyebrow raised.

“Stiles, what could you possibly need right now, I’m kind of busy,” You huffed.

“LYDIA!”

“Lydia? What about Lydia?”

“She just left out the hospital window!” Your eyes widened, “She WHAT?”

“Yeah you heard me, look I’m gonna come get you, Scott already knows so we’ll regroup and find her.”

“There’s no need to come get me, I’m not that far right now, I’ll be there soon and then we can get Scott,” you glanced at Isaac hoping he wouldn’t be upset at the situation but he just gave you a look that said ‘it’s alright, I understand’ and you knew it would be okay.

“How are you not home yet?”

You sighed, “Now’s not the time, okay I’ll explain to you later.” You said your goodbyes and hung up the phone.

“Isaac, I’m really sorry but I have to go it’s an emergency,” you looked at him as he gave you a slight wave off, “It’s alright, I’ll see you at school.” You gave him a smile and without a second thought you kissed him on the cheek and hopped off the rig, starting your jog back to the hospital. “I’ll see you at school!”

Little did you know, you left the tall boy slightly red with his hand on his cheek.

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a/n: andddd that’s part one, i thought about doing the full episode in one part but i feel like that’s a lot to read over. Tbh none of this has been read over either lol ANYWAYS let me know what you think and if you see any mistakes let me know!

#Isaac lahey #teen wolf #Isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey imagine #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf x reader #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski #scott mccall #alison argent #lydia martin #teen wolf series #isaac lahey fluff #isaac lahey angst #teen wolf fluff

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jessikeeandthemultiverse · 5 days ago

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Thanks to the Lydia x Peter Griffin fanfiction I'm currently making the pictures for and re-releasing on Wattpad, the Pepper Ann x Family Guy crossover universe is a officially a thing (it has been for a bit, but now announced onto my Tumblr page) and I'm going to give y'all reasons why I believe Family Guy takes place in the same universe as Pepper Ann:

Both shows take place on Rhode Island (although granted PA's location wasn't explicitly stated but people seem to agree Hazelnut, the location of the show, is in that state so yeah lmao).

Both are owned by Disney (FG is by Fox but everyone should know they're owned by Disney by now).

Both have dumbasses as protagonists (although Peter is a lot more stupid let's give it that lmao) and they also wear glasses.

P.A.'s voice actress was actually in an episode of Family Guy! She was in To Love and Die in Dixie as the one time character Sam (dang I wish she would appear again).

Both shows LOVE to make references to other well known media, though arguably almost every show in the 90s did that (and there are probably some who do this to this day) lmao.

Speaking of, they both premiered in the 90s and when FG premiered, PA was still airing new episodes, god damnit, that was a very good crossover opportunity missed! Shame on you, Disney! /j

PA's fantasy sequences could be akin to an average Family Guy cutaway gag depending on how you would look at it lol.

Both were animated by the same animation studio (although FG has moved on with a different one later on in its ongoing life).

And finally, both have very entertaining plots, being very silly while also giving a message for their audience in the end. They have been praised by their audiences for being a product of their time and are still fondly remembered to this day. (although with FG, that all kinda depends on what you think of it when including the modern, less well received seasons lol)

Yeah that's all I'll say. Thanks for hearing me out and I hope I have convinced you with all my pointers made lmao.

#jessikee says #jessikee's doodles #yapping #silly moment post #pepper ann #family guy #lydia goes family guy #pepper ann x family guy au #pepper ann pearson #janie diggity

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cxndiedvi0lets · 2 months ago

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Looking for ways to spend your Violet Harmon or Murder House fall or just simply looking for entertainment? Here's a list for you. 🍁🎃👻

Twilight

Twilight was a film adapted based on the book series where a girl that goes by the name of Bella Swan who moves into forks and falls for an attractively mysterious guy who turns out to be a vampire.

Violet might like Twilight because it shares somewhat Tate and Violet's dynamic where Violet moves into a new neighbourhood and falls for a guy with a dark secret and well vampires.

Gorky Park

Gorky Park follows a story of a detective who finds 3 bodies with their identities gruesomely erased from them and buried in the snow as a COLD case in Gorky Park. The detective figured the practice was done by a professional only to be tangled into a web of political corruption.

This may have encouraged Violet to get the house for her morbid curiosity as in the pilot script, Violet was curious to the morbid stories down the basement. Unable to unlock the basement, the house was sold for her to explore it.

Beetlejuice

Beetlejuice follows a story about a deceased couple who haunt their house to scare new residents. The deetz family moved in, and the couple that failed to haunt them decided to get help from a poltergeist who went by the name betelgeuse, also known as Beetlejuice. However, Betelgeuse antics had escalated, and now a living girl with a fascination for the macabre and initially struggles with her dysfunctional family known as Lydia Deetz befriends the ghostly couple and helps them to get rid of betelgeuse.

Im sure Violet would relate to Lydia Deetz on a personal level due to their feeling of being alienated by their dysfunctional family and interest in the macabre.

The Addams Family

The dark, humoured series follows a dysfunctional macabre family, alienation, familial bonds, and embracing one’s unique identity, much like Violet's own struggles with her sense of self and her complicated family dynamics and resonating to Wednesday's melancholic yet resilient character.

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix is reflected in her parallels to Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, and Luna Lovegood. Like Harry, Violet feels isolated and misunderstood while confronting the oppressive forces in her life. Luna represents acceptance of individuality and the struggles of indifference, mirroring Violet's own struggle with identity. Meanwhile, Draco's internal conflict, stemming from his family's dark secrets and expectations, adds another layer of complexity as he grapples with loyalty and morality.

Extra: Hogwarts was built after Harvard, which may be one of the reasons why Violet wanted to go to Harvard before not only because it was a largely commended and known school but her appreciation for art and it's architecture just like her appreciation for her house because "it's got soul".

NO, I PROMISE I DIDN'T ADD THIS BECAUSE OF MY OBSESSION. (clearly... 😇 and I'm getting paid for this job so...)

NANA

The series follows a romance between two girls who were both named NANA who met on the same train to tokyo. However, their relationship is jeopardized as the harsh realities of the adult life.

Violet could be seen reading the mange NANA #1 in the series.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Violet's affinity for the darkness would enjoy this series along with the vampire aspects and took place in LA. The Rosenheim Mansion (Murder House) also made an appearance on the series in Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season 4: Episode 4: Fear itself.

Chilling Adventures of Sabrina

Violet has a whimsigothic element and has an affinity for macabre elements as mentioned. Sabrina struggles with finding her own identity due to her witch heritage, friends, family secrets, sense of rebellion to social norms, and chaos in her life, which Violet could resonate to.

Wednesday

As mentioned previously for films referenced to the Addams Family & Gorky Park, Violet may enjoy this series that has a touch for coming of age, struggling to fit social norms, family secrets, murder mystery, and so on...

X-Files

X-Files is a series of special agents that investigate the unexplained, also known as the x-files, and previously was a popular meme to the illuminati. Violet's affinity to crime and murder mystery may enjoy this just like Wednesday and Gorky Park.

The X-Files also featured the Alfred Rosenheim Manor (Murder House) in the X-Files Season 6, Episode 6: How the Ghost Stole Christmas.

Please do not repost, reblogs are appreciated, and do not use my works and claim it as yours. For donations: send details in dms.

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madam-o · 2 months ago

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The Many Different Lydias in Media

Ngl, I found the Lydia from the BJ movie scripts to be fairly average and boring. She's a stereotypically edgy city teen in the first draft of the original Beetlejuice script, and seriously lacking in personality in "Beetlejuice Goes Hawaiian". In the first movie she's got some style and dark interests, but still seems overall to be a normal everygirl. The only reason she works so well on screen is due to great costume/makeup design, plus Winona Ryder's natural charisma and gothy cheekiness. And as I recall from the cartoon, she was much more cheerful but still one-dimensional, a fun-loving and typically moral mc who just enjoys creepy things and hanging out with dead people. She IS more feisty than movie Lydia tends to be, though.

I think this is why I've latched so strongly onto Musical Lydia. She's angry, twisted, mouthy, and not afraid of a little violence. She's passionate and pretty messed up, a good opponent/companion for Musical BJ. She'd think Movie BJ is a typical creepy Boomer asshole and not gel with him at all. And I'll tell you one thing, she would NOT put up with any of the bullshit in "Beetlejuice Goes Hawaiian".

God, the amount of shit that Lydia just puts up with silently in that script. For instance, her parents are even worse people than in the first film, but Lydia says absolutely nothing to them about how horrible they're being. She just plots behind their backs with some surf "beatniks" (which is that script's weird descriptive word for the wacky young people of "today"...in the first draft of Beetlejuice 1 it was "deathrockers".) BJ dances the lambada (the Forbidden Dance!) with her and is very handsy and gross about it and she doesn't even try to push him away. Man, did I not like that script.

In Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, Lydia is again, overall a fairly average, typical everyperson... it's just that she can see dead people and she's being tormented by a trickster demon (her words btw). She's not as entertainingly dramatic and morbid as she was as a teen, and I get it. She's a grown up now, and the allure of death and horror no longer does anything for her, especially since she's seen literally seen it every day for decades. She's been beaten down by life a bit. She's got a teen daughter who hates her for reasons she can't control. She's been through the wars romance-wise and is now in a bad relationship with a manipulative tool, and she's not doing anything about it because it's easier to just let him take care of everything. Many of us have been there.

Burton's Lydia has always represented himself, so she reflects his view of the world. He's just a kind of subdued guy who has a quirky view of people. It's the rest of the world that's truly weird, not him. He's just quietly hanging out and doing his thing while everyone else is running around being a bunch of colorful, self-centered clowns.

I dunno. I think she's going to be misjudged in this movie. We expect a lot of movie Lydia because so many of us grew up identifying with her, but she's never been a terribly dynamic character, we just want her to be. She's clever enough, but she's not a person who generally fights for control of her life. In fact, I think she feels that there are many things she can never control so she just has to roll with it. All she can do is try to be there for others and give her family the support that they need. Personally I definitely identify with that.

#beetlejuice #winona ryder #lydia deetz #beetlejuice 2 #beetlejuice beetlejuice #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice the animated series

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kirbsmakemesmile · 4 months ago

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I finally finished my Kirby gijinkaverse lore 😧

Remember, if you ask one question about the lore stuff after reading it all, I will draw one doodle of one character of your choice 😊😊😊

Send the questions through my ask box and your character request through my dms please!!!

Ok! Here we go! 😊😊 (please dont mind any typos)

Slight Tw: some described g0re, and implied plans of sui during one part

Ok let’s do this ok guys

Origins of Nightmare:

Nightmare was the original dark matter, and was always around because of peoples bad dreams. The thing is, they never fueled his growth because the fountain of dreams and the star rod was what kept him from becoming a huge threat. But, as generations had passed, the fountain of dreams became less of an important protective device, and more of a relic or a roadside attraction, to put it bluntly. The people had lost the knowledge of its meaning and didn’t value their peace anymore and they took it for granted, not even really acknowledging how good they had it. Anyway, a long time passed and nightmare is a puny threat to everyone, and he’s tired of it, so with what little power he’s saved up from aaallll that time saving up on bad dreams, he makes his move. He goes to popstar and shatters the star rod completely. And since the people didn’t acknowledge the importance of the star rod anymore, he went by basically unnoticed the whole time, and this began the start of chaos across the universe. Since nightmare grew to such a ginormous threat after the destruction of the star rod, the people figured they needed something big to defeat him too, and they created the GSA (Galaxy Soldier Army) and the star rod finally became a completely forgotten weapon.

Star rod and star people :

Nightmare became very successful in his plan to take over the universe at first, but because the star people (Kirby, Mk, etc.) were directly connected to the star rod (meaning they wish through the star rod, and so genetically they are connected) This is what made them a difficult species for nightmare to defeat because of the sheer power they had. (Unlike other species that would just wish on any shooting star and not the star rod) But the destruction of the star rod also had an effect on that too. The star rod allowed for wishing to be a very safe and reliable process, being able to wish any planet, any location, anytime.But without the star rod, you were not guaranteed this kind of safety, and now the children could be in danger during that process, sometimes even accidentally making wishes Wishing is a force of nature so the wish isn’t granted by a certain being, it just happens, the star rod kept that force in balance so without star rod it’s out of balance now. The wishing system is super screwed up so any large amount of emotion being said out loud could cause a wish. And the only reason why the babies of the star people were still being born with such power was because their parents still contained that star rod gene in them, so it still passed on through the wishing process. So in order for Nightmare to win, he had to destroy this species from the inside out.

Creation of Meta Knight:

Nightmares target became the firstborn child to the heads of the GSA (Sir Arthur and Lydia). So after the wish was made and the star had fallen to the ground, he made his move. He kidnapped the baby and took him to be experimented on. He turned him into a tracking device/ ambush plan, and gave him powerful, unnatural features that no other star person had. Nightmare later returned the baby to his parents, to be raised until the time was right for his plan to begin. He was raised along with three other siblings and was treated as a normal part of the family, so he never felt out of place. This was exactly what nightmare wanted

Nightmare’s plan:

At 25, Meta knight learned his true identity, through a vision from nightmare. He learned that he was a pawn to be used for nightmare’s efforts, and would be the downfall of the GSA. After finding out the truth, meta knight left the base feeling that he would be a disgrace to the GSA, and also out of fear that staying any longer would facilitate nightmare even more. However, this only opened the door. After he left, Nightmare took the opportunity to ambush the head GSA base and completely destroy it, as well as sending more beasts to meta knight after he had left to force him to return again in seek of refuge. Upon returning he saw that the base was completely destroyed and by leaving, he allowed that to happen (nightmare knew that if he didn’t leave, the ambush would be unsuccessful because the experiments he did on him made him a very skilled fighter, and nightmare needed that for his own gain, but against him he would not win). His family was nowhere to be found and neither were the other soldiers. So in this moment, nightmare physically appeared to him and tried to convince meta knight to join him. But after he refused, he took his eyes… (I’m sorry I don’t know how to describe it but he left him like severely injured like he actually ripped through his face and he was like horribly like lacerated on his face it was really bad and he was blinded like permanently).

Meta knight’s recovery:

He was left there for a while and he would’ve died, if he wasn’t found by two warriors (Jecra and Garlude) that came looking for others after surviving the ambush attack. They had their kids (Joe and Sirica) with them and were preparing things to to leave the planet with anyone they found. When they found him, they carried him into the ship and headed to one of the only peaceful planets left in the universe, Popstar. There, they cared for his wounds and helped him heal from actually being horribly ripped up and yeah.

Evil moment before warp saves him:

(Tw: implied plans of suicide in this part) After Meta knight was mostly recovered, he could only really see light, shadows, and vague shapes. His wounds had started the healing process and he was able to move around, so he left to the very edge of the woods, and he stayed there all day waiting until night. He contemplated the many things he had lost, his family was gone, his health and his vision had deteriorated, and the only life he had ever known turned out to be a lie. He went there in a bad mental state and didn’t think things could get better, so he planned to try and you know… yeah. After standing there for so long he broke down and he started like actually losing is like yelling like you are loud dude… basically just pouring out his heart in that moment of like sadness and confusion and wanting something to change the course of his life.

Warp star and star rod:

Now before I get back to the story I need to explain a little about warp. Warp star is a sentient being like galaxia, and she is also dually the star rod. After being broken, she had to be regenerated again because it’s just a law of nature, she exists with the universe no matter what, so she will always come back even if it’s in a different form. In order for her to be reborn though, she had to heal, and this process took years and years of regeneration. And for her to even be born, she had to choose a star person to be born with and to be her guardian for life, Kirby. This meant they both would rely on each other for power in the beginning stages of life (like how some sharks are born with a yolk sac, both rely on each other to an extent the shark needs food and the sac needs blood flow ☝️🤓). Anyways, Kirby and warp would be born together and that made Kirby her guardian, she is his galaxia.

Kirby:

Okay so remember how I said the wishing system was screwed up because warp wasn’t there to keep it in balance YOULL NEVER GUESS WHAT HAPPENS 😧😧 When Meta knight started pouring out his heart, it was read as a wish, and so Kirby was sent down to him, and he accidentally made a wish.😧 Kirby was born with warp star in his hands and they relied on each other as a source of power. So meta knight found the fallen star and realized exactly what had happened.

Post wish stuff:

After hearing him out in the forest, Jecra and Garlude were able to find him and Kirby and took them back home to be taken care of. They helped him raise Kirby in the beginning stages, and helped fashion a visor to be put in his mask that allowed him to see light and shapes in a little higher definition, which helped him navigate better and see Kirby a little more.

First 5 years:

For the first 5 years in cappytown raising Kirby, things go very smoothly. Meta knight starts training with Kirby in order for him to get his agility and skill back, and hoping that Kirby may learn from him as well. He has learned about Kirby’s copy abilities, and has become a fully involved father in Kirby’s life. (He’s so devoted because while it seemed that this was another stumbling block in his life, it was exactly what he wished for in the sense that he wanted something to happen that would completely change the course of his life) Also in cappytown, Dedede has barely become king and is just now learning to handle the throne (this is important for later)

After 5 years:

After a long and peaceful 5 years living with his son in cappytown, Meta knight received a notice from the GSA notifying former soldiers and warriors that their presence was needed urgently for the next attempt to to defeat nightmare. They claimed that the GSA had made changes to its system to ensure a “safer” environment for people with kids and were convinced that this time they would win against nightmare. Feeling obligated, and also a little hopeful of maybe seeing his family again, he left with Kirby to help the cause.

The issue with the GSA:

After the ambush at the head base of the GSA it seemed that Sir Arthur and the rest of meta knights family had perished during the ambush, but it’s actually all the contrary. When the ambush happened they were able to escape using one of the ships, and they left to one of the only other peaceful planets in the universe, Ripplestar. But because meta knight had left before the ambush, they couldn’t find him, and assumed that he died during the attack as well. So why didn’t they come back to help this second time? Arthur’s leadership in the GSA prevented people from serving that had small children, or people that physically could not serve, and he just had a very good handle on the leadership in the GSA, because he knew that yes the cause was good, but soldiers are still people, not machines. He valued everyone and after the ambush he felt he had failed the GSA in the sense that some fault in his leadership allowed for the ambush to happen, so he resigned his position to take care of his family, and removed himself from the GSA entirely. So what’s the deal with the GSA now? This new system that made the GSA a “safer environment” was really all just propaganda to get as many people to fight for freedom in the universe. And while in theory yes it’s good, like let’s get people to fight for the good, they forgot the importance of valuing each soldier as a person, and they really only just needed numbers. So what they did for people with kids was, they created a ship that would send your kid into space for years, until the war was finally over. The kids would be in cryo sleep the entire time until their ship was programmed to land, and when they landed they would be granted the knowledge of what happened to their family/ parents.

2nd war:

When Meta knight arrived to serve in the 2nd war, he realized what would happen and had no other choice but to rely on the GSA’s technology to protect Kirby. The second way started out promising, but turned out to be the most unsuccessful attempt yet. By pushing their soldiers to the limit, they overworked them and it was just bad. That’s why there were so little survivors in the end.

Garlude:

Let me pose to you this situation okay, we have Garlude, and she is the best warrior okay (it literally says that in the anime) and we have another really good warrior, Meta knight, and they’re both gonna get this legendary sword okay. Logically Garlude would not lose, and she would get the sword right? At least that’s what everyone was thinking right. Anyways, when they get there, they start fighting this monster to get the sword and he gets caught and is about to die, but this gives Garlude an opportunity to grab Galaxia to retrieve it successfully, but through trying to get Galaxia, she finds out the sword was not meant for her, she gets shocked and realizes Galaxia was meant for him. Unfortunately she has no other choice but to grab the sword and use it to help meta knight, because he’s losing really bad. So she sacrifices herself by using the sword to free meta knight, and she’s electrocuted. While this didn’t kill her at first, it made her extremely weak, and vulnerable to the monster, ultimately leading to her demise. So when Meta knight, a great warrior but not the best, comes back with Galaxia but no Garlude, don’t you think rumors would start? I think it’s worth thinking about. This is how Sirica, got the wrong idea about meta knight, and how Nightmare continued reminding Meta knight of his purpose and how he would always be used against the GSA and the warriors no matter what. He was the cause of one of his closest friends’ death.

Jecra:

Jecra’s death was a statement from Nightmare to Meta knight, once again reminding him who he really was. Jecra was kidnapped during an attack by some of nightmares beasts, and he was turned evil by nightmare. Upon returning, meta knight realized exactly what had happened to him and it was like looking in a mirror, he saw what nightmare had planned for him, and desperately tried snapping Jecra out of it, but it didn’t work. Meta knight had no other choice but to go against Jecra in battle. This resulted in him having to kill his only other friend left. Once again making him the cause of his friends’ death. All of because nightmare never wanted him to forget his identity and purpose.

After the second war:

At the end of the second war, most of the warriors in the GSA had died and there were very few survivors, including Meta Knight. He escaped and once again headed to popstar to seek refuge. This is basically where the anime starts

KRBAY:

The show is basically what this time was like from Kirby’s point of view, he sees dedede and a scary tyrannical leader and the one that orders the monsters, and everything is very “kids show” through his eyes, which isn’t necessarily how it happened.

King dedede had been king for about 9 years, but his leadership has been questionable, but he was doing everything in his power to keep the peace the cappytown even if it meant doing things that were wrong. King dedede filtered what could and couldn’t be seen by the cappies, basically making them ignorant to the whole war that’s going on. I guess like all of this just to say that the show is like a very kid like depiction of what actually happened.

Kirby returns to popstar:

About a year after meta knight had returned to popstar after escaping, Kirby’s ship crash landed in cappy town. (during this year that meta knight spent in Cappytown by himself, he became very close with tiff, because she was interested in who he really was as a star warrior. She disagreed with King Dededes method of leading, and she actually wanted to know what was going on, so that’s why him and tiff are very close) The whole plot of the anime continues during this time, and since Meta knight had barely returned from such a traumatic war, he felt that he wasn’t capable of taking care of Kirby anymore and that’s why they’re not very close during the show at all.

Sirica:

Even though the show depicts Sirica coming after knuckle Joe, I do what I want and I say she arrived before Joe did. When she arrived we all know what happens we’ve seen the show, she thinks meta knight killed her mother which isn’t true and the show kind of brushes over it, that’s not what happened. After their conflict, he fully describes the story like he zones out and starts retelling everything like it happened and it’s kind of difficult to hear for everyone, but it gives Sirica the reassurance that her mother died a hero and for the greater good. She does not leave right after this, she stays in cappytown for a while, because I don’t think she would leave I think she wants to hear more about her mom and the only guy that knows a lot about her is Mk so it only makes sense.

Joe:

Similarly to Siricas conflict with meta knight, knuckle Joe comes to cappytown seeking the warrior who killed his father, we know how it goes we’ve seen it. And just like last time after their conflict, he fully retells the story, except this one is particularly more difficult for him to tell, because he actually did kill his father. Since nightmare made him one of his pawns and made him fully evil, meta knight had no other choice but to you know like… yeah. So after zoning out again and telling the story in full detail it’s very difficult for everyone to grasp, knuckle Joe does get the closure he needed, but the people (WHO DIDNT REALLY EVEN KNIW A WAR WAS GOING ON) hear that meta knight actually had a crazy war story and was a crazy fighter, and that’s how this persona of meta knight started being built up even more and people thought of him as like wow so fighter like he’s so noble and so cool. Basically treating him like a fictional character now instead of an actual dude.

Joe and Sirica:

After staying in cappytown for a while, learning about their parents and how they cared for injured soldiers, and were very noble people, they left into space to find survivors from the war, and other star warriors, to help with the final battle against nightmare that would be coming very soon.

KRBAY finale:

As the show nears its end, there’s a bit of foreshadowing that comes from meta knight, where he says Kirby will soon be going up against an even bigger foe, and the next episode starts the finale. That means he knew that Kirby would have to fight nightmare very soon, how did he know that?? Basically nightmare gave him a vision and this was like the worst thing nightmare had in store for him, in that vision he told meta knight that now Kirby would be going up against him whether he liked it or not, and he was going to take what was most important in his life, Kirby. (It’s not like super important to know this but I thought it was cool so i out it in) ANYWAYS, the finale starts and meta knight, sword, blade, Kirby, king dedede, and Tiff (she snuck on board) head into space to fight nightmare. They get there and yeah we all know what happens, and then they get surrounded by a bunch of nightmares ships. And that’s when they notice three of the ships actually helping them out. And then it’s like big reveal, it’s Joe, Sirica, and Sir Arthur and his family WHAAATTTT 😧😧😧 I THOUGHT THEY DIED (that’s his brain)

He kind of disassociates during the rest of this battle just because so much has happened and he knows what going to happen and it’s just a lot, which is why his reaction to seeing his family again is so like 😮 instead of actually freaking out. Ok let’s fast forward to the end okay.

Final battle with nightmare:

Finally we get to this final battle with nightmare, and in the show it depicts tiff being the one that gets taken by nightmare and Kirby goes after her, but I honestly think that it would just be a lot more meaningful if it was meta knight just because this final battle represents his fear of nightmare, controlling his life, and just always being around, so for the sake of this story, I’m changing it to that. Anyways, as Kirby is going after them to save meta knight, this is basically meta knights worst nightmare come true, and his fear is what is fueling nightmare at this very last battle to make him look much bigger and stronger. This is all kind of like a show to make the person fighting him think that they need a huge arsenal to defeat him, when in reality, all they need is the star rod. So at the end when Kirby reveals that he is the guardian of the star rod, that’s how he’s able to defeat nightmare. By using the only thing that could defeat him, he destroyed nightmare forever in an instant. In the show, nightmares defeat is only shown for a very small portion of the entire finale, which I think really drives the point home that nightmare was all show. He played this role of being a huge threat to hide the fact that he had such a big weakness.

Post nightmare’s defeat:

After successfully, defeating nightmare, and nightmare enterprises, everyone returned home safe, and meta knight and Kirby left Cappy town to go and see his family after all these years. They spent about six months visiting and came back to Cappytown after that.

Meta knights revenge:

After returning to Cappy town from visiting his family, he came back to a completely different town. While in many aspects, Cappytown had improved, for example, king dededes leadership, media, and education had improved. Many of the cappies continued to choose to be ingnorant to the efforts of the GSA and basically all the crazy war stuff that had happened. They treated star Warriors as fictional characters to put it bluntly, and didn’t value the freedom that they had even during the wars. One example I can give you of the Cappies ignorance to everything that was going on, is in one of the episodes where they collect little figures of some of the star warriors and soldiers, they collect these figures and don’t even know their actual names. (There was even a collectible of Jecra and like it’s kind of messed up like why are you making a marketable figure of a man that died???) It’s just very representative of how they view star warriors as a whole, just a collectible or a character. So when Meta knight had arrived to Cappy town, the people treated him like he was a celebrity and people fawned over him and made merchandise off of him and it was just really weird. This really irked him, and he kind of lost it, because a couple years ago when he lived there and he was going through things, nobody cared about him except tiff, but now since he’s a “hero” everyone loves him and idolizes him just because he lives in their town. So, his solution? IM GONNA TAKE OVER THIS ENTIRE PLACE AND IM GONNA MAKE THESE PEOPLE STOP BEING SO IGNORANT AND LAZY AND SEE WHAT I AND A BUNCH OF OTHER WARRIORS WENT THROUGH 🐺🐺🐺🐺 (this entire invasion is really just a manic episode, he completely loses it and it’s just all build up from all the crap he’s had to deal with from the cappies) During this time is when we really get to see the true power nightmare gave him though. Similarly to the evil frog thing from that one episode, he goes into this trance like state where all he can do is wreak havoc and he can’t recognize anyone he’s up against. So when Kirby goes to fight him, meta knight doesn’t recognize him, and that’s why he’s so brutal.

After meta knights revenge:

Afterwards, tiff finds him on shore and she is really disappointed. She and him end up talking things over and it’s end up okay but she realizes that he still has very serious issues to deal with. He gets fired from working for dedede, and gets a slap on the wrist but otherwise is fine (dedede didn’t want conflict so he chose this route to keep everyone happy) The people recognize that he’s also a person too, but still idolize him, and honestly this kind of raises his ego. (Until he gets humbled later) After all the games happen up until planet robobot, and that’s when it gets crazy 😧

Susie haltmann:

After being stuck in an alternate dimension since her childhood, Susie finally escapes when a rift is opened, and she finds herself on popstar. (That happens right as Magolor loses and vanishes to that dimension, they like switch spots) With no idea where she is, she steals a star ship from a garage of what seems to be some celebrity or something, idk they had a lot of cars and ships (you’ll never guess who METAKNIGHT OMG yeah) and she heads into space to find her father again. After finding haltmann works, she goes inside to see her father again after all these years, but he doesn’t remember her. Desperately she tries to make him remember, but nothing works. She ends up resorting to being a secretary, hoping maybe one day her father will recognize her again, and plotting to steal the machine that stole her father from her. She’s forced to work in a company she knows is corrupt, just to try to get her dad to remember her.

Planet Robobot:

After getting captured by someone as he entered haltmann works, Meta knight waited in a room for a representative to come talk to him, enter Susie Haltmann. Susie explains a new program called the “Mechanization program”, a new experimental initiative, which gave the person robotic armor that worked with the body to make them more efficient in fighting, and overall just an upgrade to an organic body. Two things to keep in mind though, one, Susie wasn’t really trying to do anything drastic, all she was trying to do was do something big enough in the company to impress her father so that maybe he would remember her, and two, Meta knight had recently (in previous games) been shown to be obsessed with improving his fighting skills, fighting on his own to prove his strength, and proving he’s the greatest warrior ever ( amazing mirror, meta knightmare ultra, etc.) so to him, this program sounded like free plastic surgery to hi so obviously he said yes. Before starting the mechanization process, he had to have a checkup, to make sure his health was up to par, which is how she found out he was blind.

Meta knights’ sight regained:

Before the mechanization started, Susie had to fix his eyes. She replaced them with robotic prosthetics that would help the mecha armor navigate, and after years of being blind, he would finally be able to see again. (His eyes turn yellow permanently after this game so it’s like proof) After surgery, he was extremely overwhelmed, and tried escaping to see Kirby and all his other loved ones, but since he had already signed the contract, she couldn’t let him leave, and the mechanization process continued.

Mechanization:

Technically he wasn’t turned into a cyborg, the mechanization process was more like giving the person mechanization armor that moved for them, meaning the person didn’t have to really even move, and the armor would control the person inside. The person inside acted as more of a skeleton. So the armor wasn’t a part of you (like she didn’t rip him apart and replace his entire body with robot ( except for his eyes but she just freaking made him see again so pllplppt)), it was more of an add on. (In the game the armor is completely off by the next cutscene so yeah no it wasn’t crazy cyborg stuff sorry) When he fought Kirby, he unfortunately couldn’t see him yet, because the program in the mech suit completely took over his vision, so he didn’t see Kirby until the very end.

End of robobot:

After fighting star dream and winning, he saved Kirby and they both land safely on popstar once again. Kirby doesn’t realize at first that Meta knight can see him, and meta knight stays very silent for a while taking it all in, but when Kirby finally realizes, it’s really sweet and they hug and cry and it’s just like GHHHHUHHVHJHHH 😢😢😭😭

From this point on, meta knight slows down a lot and stops trying to be insanely like in gonna be the best and I have to be strong and yeah, he retires from being a warrior like that, and spends time taking in what he hasn’t been able to see for almost 20 years.

Meta knight and Susie:

During his mechanization process, he became very good friends with Susie. Since she had just recently come back from an alternate dimension, he was the first person she could talk to, and they both had very similar traumas that they could bond over (losing their family for an extended time, feeling isolated, being related to a very bad person/ being, etc.) and meta knight felt he had, and always would have, an eternal debt to her for giving him his vision back. So there was never really intense conflict between them, they were just friends, until having to be separated at the very end.

After robobot:

After a much needed break, meta knight became a lot more peaceful and appreciated his family and his life a lot more, he finally felt truly happy and optimistic towards life in general. As for Susie, she did continue her fathers legacy by mechanizing different planets and people, but not in the way it seemed. She helped bring clean energy to different planets that needed help after haltmann works damaging their ecosystems, and she provided prosthetics for people who needed them, and helped many people regain their vision and hearing. (The reason why she was made to look like a bad guy is because since the people of popstar found out that she turned THEIR PRECIOUS META KNIGHT into a cyborg, they immediately assumed the worst and twisted her story around to make her look like she was a horrible person like her dad, which was just not true)

Star allies:

Star allies is really when Meta knight and Susie grew close. Finally being able to work on the same team helped them become even better friends, bond over shared experiences, and eventually lead to their relationship. They found someone they could truly talk about their trauma with, and it was just really great all around and it’s just sweet okay they both get their happy ending.

Forgotten land:

During forgotten land, meta knight has truly settled down and retired from his life of fighting like crazy and being crazy fighter

( I mean unless in one of the next games he comes out of retirement but we’ll see) and he focused on the slower life, he settled down with Susie, they wished for a kid, and life is really good. He will always continue to train Kirby, and anyone else, but after years of so many traumatic things happening to him, he’s now able to relax and heal from it all. 😊😊

Timeline:

Mk 25- Kirby is born

Mk 30 K 5- Mk called back to the second war

Mk 34- he comes back to popstar after the second war

Mk 35 K 6- Kirby returns to popstar (Kirby only aged one year during cryo sleep, so he should be 10 but he’s physically)

Mk 37 K 8- when the show ends and they fight nightmare

Mk 38 K 9- when meta knights revenge happens

Mk 44 K 13- when robobot happens

Mk 46 K 15- star allies and forgotten land

#kirby #kirby series #Kirby gijinkaverse explained #kirby gijinka #Tw implied plans of sui

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