#once you have known the potential of that look you can't go back

[theinfinitedivides]

currently mourning the loss of the Pathaan beard... you will be sorely missed 😔

[gojoluvs]

J’adore

⤿ Satoru Gojo × reader

summary, “her world turned upside down when her boss announced that he was the father of her unborn child. As she navigates her new life as a wife and mother, she finds herself falling for her husband's best friend, Suguru Geto. But is it love she feels? or just a desperate attempt to be noticed by someone other than her husband..”

Warning/ tags; angst, profanity, smoking, cursing, smut, violence.

Genre; angst, infidelity, jik, Gojou × reader, modern au!, business au!

Notes: the tag-list is open if you'd like to be mentioned everytime i update just send me a message.

10k words

masterlist ⤏ next chapter

it felt like a fever dream.

Your thoughts were racing as you sat there staring at the positive pregnancy test. You never imagined that a casual fling with your boss, Gojo, would result in this. You were filled with a mix of emotions - fear, confusion, and excitement all at once. You knew you had to tell Gojo, but the thought of his reaction scared you.

Would he be angry? Would he want you to keep the baby? These questions filled your mind as you tried to figure out the best course of action. Ultimately, the decision was yours to make and you knew it wouldn't be an easy one.

"Fuck." Grabbing a piece of toilet paper, you wrapped the positive pregnancy test and shoved it inside your pant pockets.

Immediately washing your hand, you exited the restroom to face your dear friend and co-worker. With her back against the wall, you could see her biting her nails in anticipation.

You could tell she knew something was wrong, as she anxiously asked, "What's going on?"

Taking a deep breath, you slowly let out, "I'm pregnant." As the words sank in, you could see the shock and worry on your friend's face.

You knew this wasn't the ideal situation, but you also knew that you had a supportive friend by your side. Her eyes widened in shock, and she slowly began to walk towards you. She looked at you with a mix of surprise and concern, her mouth agape as she tried to process the news.

You could tell she was trying to find the right words to say, but in the end, all she could manage was a quiet, "Oh."

"I'm sorry, I can't believe this," she gasped, her eyes filled with worry.

"What are you going to do?" You shook your head, feeling overwhelmed and uncertain.

"I have no idea," you replied honestly. "I wasn't planning on this."

Your friend placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "We'll figure it out together," she said with a reassuring smile. "You don't have to go through this alone." Grateful for her support, you took another deep breath and nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope amidst the fear and uncertainty. You began walking back towards the office while everyone was in lunch.

As an employee at the national elect industries estate that the Gojo's had owned, you were fortunate enough to work closely with Satoru Gojo, one of the most well-known and influential CEOs in all of Tokyo. Witnessing his leadership style first-hand, you found him to be an inspiring and motivating leader who always pushed his team to reach their full potential. Despite being just one of the many employees in the building, you felt valued and appreciated under Satoru Gojo's leadership. His positive and encouraging attitude made it a pleasure to work in the office and you always felt inspired after a conversation with him. It was an honor to be a part of the team.

Unfortunately everyone knew that Satoru was a sex hungry man. All he needed to do was just point at a woman and they would come running to him because everyone knew he was the most attractive man in the building. However, Satoru was not looking for love. He was focused on his career and was determined to be successful. No matter how many women tried to win his heart, he kept his eyes on the prize and refused to be distracted.

"Y/N." Seeing the tall white haired male you immediately grabbed the report you stayed up all night redoing.

Your heart raced as you walked towards him, clutching the report tightly in your hands. You could feel the sweat in your palms as you nervously approached the tall white-haired man. Despite your anxiety, you stood up straight and confidently handed over the report, hoping it would impress him.

You were relieved when he smiled at you, and you managed to smile back handing him the report you had worked so hard on all night.

"Here you go Mr. Gojo, I also decided to put the sales graph from last weeks advertisement," you said with a sense of accomplishment.

As he glanced through the report, you couldn't help but feel proud of your hard work.

You stood there, watching him walk away, you couldn't help but feel a sense of longing and regret. If only things were different, if only you could share the news of your pregnancy with him. But you knew it was better this way, to keep your distance and avoid any potential complications.

You couldn't help but wonder what his reaction would have been, and if his parents would have accepted you and your child. But ultimately, you knew that this was the best decision for everyone involved. With a heavy heart, you turned and walked away, knowing that your secret would remain just that - a secret.

Despite your admiration for Satoru, you couldn't help but feel inferior to him. Being considered a low life and not as successful as him only added to this feeling. Your dad owned a small restaurant down the street where the building was, while Satoru's family lived in a lavish mansion. You were just a commoner and Satoru was like a prince. You had grown up in a small town, and Satoru had grown up in a wealthy family.

The differences in class between the two of you were stark and you were constantly reminded of your social status. You knew that his family wouldn't approve of the two of you together, and deep down, you knew that your relationship was doomed from the start.

"We should go eat, it's on me since your eating for two." Grabbing your arm she held it, you both walked towards the lunch area where the food was at.

Seeing the rest of the workers in the building you wondered who else Satoru had sex with. Knowing you weren't the only one because he once had a long lasting hookup with one of his secretaries but once his dad found out he fired her.

You were feeling uneasy knowing Satoru's history with other women. He was a notorious playboy, always looking for a new conquest. You couldn't help but wonder what his true intentions were. He had always been kind to you, but that could easily change if he got bored.

Despite your doubts, you couldn't help but be drawn to him, his charisma and charm were hard to resist. But you also knew that getting involved with someone like him could lead to heartbreak and disappointment. It was a risky game to play, and you weren't sure if you were willing to take that chance.

"Y/N?" Tilting her head you could see that Utahime was waiting for you to come back to reality.

Nosing you sat down with her, feeling overwhelmed by the thought of raising this child alone. However, you knew that you were strong and capable, and you were determined to give your child the best life possible.

You looked into Utahime's eyes and saw a reflection of your own sadness. You knew that she was feeling your pain and loneliness, and that you were in this together. You sighed and steeled yourself for the difficult road ahead, but with Utahime by your side, you knew you could make it through.

"Can you order me a sandwich please? I'm too tired to go," you said, feeling exhausted from the long day.

With a nod, Utahime quickly got up and left you alone at the table. As you took out your phone, you hesitated before texting Satoru. You knew he had a right to know about the child.

Taking a deep breath, you type out a message to Satoru:

"I need to tell you something."

After sending the message, you lean back in your chair and wait. You feel a mixture of emotions and fear of how he will react. You immediately got a text back. Surprised to see that Satoru would reply to you during a meeting.

The message said:

"What is it? I'm in a meeting right now but I can talk later."

You took a deep breath, relieved that he isn't mad and that you can talk to him later. You respond with a short message:

"Well, if that's the case, we can talk later then."

This way, you can both have some time to calm down and approach the conversation with a cooler head. Plus, it's always better to discuss important matters in person rather than over text.

"Here," handing you the delicious sandwich you've been craving all day, you took a bite. As you bit into the sandwich, the flavor of the freshly baked bread and the savory combination of ingredients made your mouth water.

The juicy tomatoes, crisp lettuce, and perfectly seasoned meat all came together in a burst of flavor that satisfied your hunger and left you wanting more. You couldn't help but savor each bite, enjoying every last morsel of this delectable sandwich.

"Mm! This is so good." Smiling she drank her coke gazing at you while you devoured the food like if you hadn't ate in weeks.

You were so focused on the food that you almost forgot about the conversation you two were having. You looked up and met her gaze, and you both shared a laugh. She said, "You really are enjoying that, aren't you?" You smiled and nodded, taking another bite.

"Mm... did you see that the secretary that Gojo supposedly had a thing with is back?" she asked you,pausing mid-bite.

"She's back...?" After nodding, you couldn't help but wonder why she returned.

The last thing you remembered was her getting completely humiliated by Satoru's father in front of the entire office.

"I heard supposedly he gave her a check of one million dollars to leave the boss alone. God I hate him." Utahime rolled her eyes, taking another sip of her drink.

You couldn't understand why Utahime harbored such strong dislike for Satoru. Maybe there was more to their relationship than meets the eye.

"Why do you hate him so much?" you asked her, curious. Utahime sighed and shook her head.

"It's not important," she said. "But I can't stand people who use their money to get away with anything. It's just not fair. It creates an unequal playing field and allows those with wealth to escape consequences for their actions, while others are held accountable. It perpetuates systemic inequality and injustice."

You could also agree with that, paying someone to leave their loved one is such a dick move. Before you knew it everyone was already finished with their lunch except for you and Utahime. You looked around the canteen and saw that everyone was watching you and Utahime, with some of them grinning and whispering to each other.

You felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you, and you quickly finished your lunch while Utahime still calmly ate her food.

"Let's go, I don't want to get in trouble," you whispered urgently to your friend.

You both stood up and quickly made your way back to the office where everyone else had gone to work. Utahime gave you a questioning look, but understanding the situation, she quickly followed you out of the canteen. You were careful to avoid contact with anyone as you walked back to the office, feeling like all eyes were on you.

As soon as you arrived, you quickly darted to your desk and started to work, trying to distract yourself from the embarrassment you felt. Despite your efforts, you couldn't shake off the feeling of being judged and the fear of getting in trouble for your actions.

You opened the first document and started typing, your fingers hitting the keys in a steady rhythm. However, as you continued typing, you realized that finishing the reports quickly would not solve the underlying issue that had been weighing on your mind.

You knew that you would still have to confront Satoru and address the problem head-on, no matter how much you wanted to escape from it. You took a deep breath and focused on completing the reports, determined to face the challenges ahead with a clear mind and a proactive attitude.

As much as you dreaded it, you knew it was unavoidable. You had been working late nights for weeks now and the stress was starting to take its toll. You felt exhausted and overwhelmed by the amount of work you had to do in such a short amount of time. You just wanted to take a break and relax, not have to deal with yet another deadline.

The pressure to come up with new ideas for the company to expand in the east coast was daunting and you were running out of creative energy.

You could say your position was important but it wasn't that much compared to what other people did. You wanted to be one of the members who would attend the meeting and present your own ideas without getting everything stolen from you. You had a role in the company, but your contributions were often overlooked or overshadowed.

You couldn't shake off the feeling of disappointment and frustration. Wanting to be able to make meaningful contributions to the team in meetings and have your ideas taken seriously, but you knew you were far from that, especially now that you were carrying his child.

You wondered if Satoru's family would also give you a check to disappear, to act like you never had anything with Gojo. It was a harsh reality to face, but you refused to let it stop you from achieving your goals and proving your worth.

You thought of all the different scenarios that could happen, you felt helpless. You had come to the office to gain experience and learn from the best. But now you were in a situation you hadn't anticipated and you didn't know how to handle it.

You wished you had someone to talk to and get advice from, but you knew none of your colleagues could understand what you were going through. You had feelings of insecurity and fear. You were scared of being judged and looked down on by Satoru's family and his colleagues.

You felt that you weren't good enough, and that you didn't have the skills or the knowledge to make meaningful contributions. You were worried that if you stayed, you would be seen as a burden and a nuisance, and that your ideas would be dismissed.

"Y/N, sir Gojo is requesting your presence in his office." You were startled by the voice of the secretary, who you had only heard about before. Her beauty was even more striking in person - her long black hair cascading down her back and her piercing green eyes seeming to see right through you. Her pale complexion and rosy lips added to her ethereal appearance.

"Yes," you replied, feeling a bit flustered by her beauty. You followed her down the hallway to Gojo's office, admiring her graceful walk. She opened the door and motioned for you to enter, giving you a gentle smile before she closed the door behind you.

Looking out the window Satoru had his hands in his pockets. Snapping his head towards the door when he saw you enter. He smiled before walking towards you. His tall figure hovering over you. You hadn't realized despite your height, Satoru was super tall. You stepped back in surprise, taken aback by his sudden proximity, and your eyes widened as you looked up into his face.

His kind eyes twinkling and his lips curling into a warm smile. For a moment, you were lost in the moment, unable to remember why you had come.

"What did you want to talk about?" asked Satoru as you walked into boss's office. Grabbing his remote, he clicked a button and the window blinds slowly descended, providing more privacy in the office. He sat down and motioned for you to do the same.

You waited patiently for the right words, as he wondered what could be so important that they needed privacy.

Your mind was racing with all the possible outcomes, but you couldn't bring yourself to speak. You fiddled with your hands, trying to calm your nerves, and felt the weight of the situation bearing down on you.

Would he support your decision? Would he be angry? Would he even want to be a part of this? The uncertainty and fear were almost suffocating. You mustered up the courage to meet his gaze, hoping for some sign of reassurance. But his expression remained stoic, leaving you to wonder what he was thinking.

You hesitated, unsure of what to say. You knew Satoru didn't love you, to him you were just a one night stand. But you couldn't keep living in doubt, you had to tell him the truth.

A one night stand that screwed up and didn't use a after pill. You knew that the next few words that were going to leave your mouth was going to devastate Gojo. Maybe even ruin his life. But still, you wanted to know the truth, no matter how much it hurt. You felt like you were caught between a rock and a hard place. Gojo was so kind to you and you had grown to care for him deeply.

But on the other hand, Satoru was the father of your unborn child. You were unsure of what to do and what would be the right thing for everyone involved. You felt helpless and scared.

Despite the fact that you wanted to tell Gojo the truth, you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You couldn't bear the thought of hurting him, knowing that the truth would have a devastating effect on him. You felt that it was better to keep him in the dark and live with the regret of your decision.

He was visibly anxious as he waited for you to explain the situation. His brow was furrowed and his mouth was set in a tight line. He clasped his hands together, as if in prayer, and waited for you to break the silence. Staring at him you could tell he was concerned as to why you weren't speaking.

His blue eyes stared back at you waiting for you to tell him the news. You were hesitant to tell him the truth, but you knew you had to. Taking a deep breath, you slowly began to explain the situation. You could feel your heart racing as you spoke, and you could tell his expression was slowly changing as he heard the news.

You took a deep breath and finally spoke, "I'm pregnant." Satoru's face turned to shock and then anger, "You're lying," he spat. You knew this was going to be difficult, but you had to do what was best for you and your child.

"Im not lying," You said back. He was speechless, his mind trying to process what he heard. He was frozen in place, not knowing what to say or do. He was in a state of disbelief, struggling to comprehend the news. Finally, he managed to speak, his voice barely above a whisper, "Are you sure?"

His heart was pounding in his chest, as he waited for the answer. He felt like the room was spinning, the world around him a blur. He was filled with fear and disbelief, as he tried to piece together what he had heard.

His heart raced as he waited for a response. He had never expected to hear this, and he felt a sudden wave of shock and confusion wash over him. He felt like he was stuck in a dream, unable to move or think clearly.

"Yes, here," you said, taking out the small piece of toilet paper and unwrapping it, revealing the positive pregnancy test. Satoru's eyes widened as he grabbed it, shock and disbelief washing over his face as he tried to process the news that would forever change his life.

He couldn't believe that he was going to be a father, and the thought of all the responsibilities and sacrifices that came with it was overwhelming.

His face fell and he stared at you in shock before his emotions turned to anger. "How could you be so careless? Do you know what this means?" he yelled.

You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. You knew this was going to change everything and it was a difficult situation to be in. You couldn't help but feel guilty for causing this turmoil but you also knew that the truth had to come out.

With a heavy heart, you averted your gaze, unable to face the man in front of you. "I understand the gravity of this situation, and I know that I am not from the same social status as you. If you think it's best for me to leave and raise our child on my own, then I will do so."

He put a hand on his mouth before rubbing it on his chin. "Shit," he muttered.

You could tell he didn't want this pregnancy as much as you didn't want it. "But you took the morning after pill?" he questioned, staring right at you with concern in his eyes.

Despite his hesitation, you knew he would support you no matter what decision you made.

"I did," you lied, feeling a knot form in your stomach. "But it wasn't 100% effective." You both knew the risks, but neither of you expected it to happen.

“What do we do now?" you asked, looking at him for guidance.

"I don't know," he sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "Maybe we should consider all of our options." You knew what he meant, but you weren't sure if you were ready to make that decision.

"I'll arrange a meeting with my parents as soon as possible and we can discuss what we'll do then. But... how far along are you?" Gazing at Satoru, you could see the doubt and suspicion in his eyes.

He didn't trust you and it was understandable. You couldn't blame him for thinking you might be using this pregnancy to ruin his life. But deep down, you knew the truth - that you could possibly be carrying his child, and that thought alone scared you.

"I don't know what you think of me, Satoru, but I'm not here to ruin your life," you said.

"I'm not sure how far along I am, but I do know that I'm pregnant, and that's why I'm here. I'm not trying to pressure you into anything, I just wanted you to know the truth and I thought it would be better to do this in person."

“Despite the potential challenges and complications, I am committed to taking responsibility for my pregnancy and raising our child. I understand that this may not have been part of our plans, but I believe we can work something out.” Satoru looked at you with a mix of shock and confusion.

He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He just stared at you in disbelief, not knowing what to say. Finally, he managed to stutter out a few words. "Are you sure you want to keep it?”

"Yes i am, if you want me to I will raise this child but I need you to be here. My kid, our kid. Its not going to live without a father." Satoru could see the determination in your eyes. Clenching your fists you wanted for his answer in anticipation

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair before turning to you. His eyes were heavy with emotion as he finally spoke.

"Yes, I'll stay. I promise. I'll be here for us and for our child." He got up and reached out, taking your hands in his, giving them a gentle squeeze.

It was a difficult decision, but you knew that the potential benefits for the child far outweighed the risk of getting your heart broken. You were determined to make sure that Satoru saw the potential of being a father and the positive impact he could have on the child's life.

You were willing to do whatever it takes to make sure that this child had a loving and involved father figure, even if it meant facing rejection or heartache. In the end, the well-being and happiness of the child was your top priority.

"For now I want you to stay here until I'm done with my last meeting then we can head out and go to my parents mansion." You knew how much it meant for his parents to know about this. To be honest, you were so fucking scared right now.

You knew that this was not going to be easy, not just because of the child growing inside you, but because of the potential backlash from Satoru's parents. You were fully aware of the cultural and societal differences between your backgrounds and how it could be perceived by his family. Despite your fears and concerns, you nodded and agreed to his request, determined to make it work and put on a brave face. With a deep breath, you tried to calm your nerves and prepare yourself for the challenges ahead.

Closing the door behind him just like that Satoru went to another meeting leaving you with your thoughts. While you were grappling with these thoughts, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease and guilt. The image of Satoru with his secretary kept replaying in your mind, making you question your own feelings and actions.

Would it be right to sabotage their relationship for your own selfish desires? These moral dilemmas left you feeling conflicted and unsure of how to proceed. As you sat alone in the office, you couldn't help but wonder if things would ever be the same between you and Satoru.

You felt a pang of guilt and sadness as you tried to push away the thought and focus on the task at hand. Closing your eyes you decided to lay down on the small sofa that Satoru had in his office.

Putting a hand on top of your stomach you couldn't really feel anything. You knew you were at least a few weeks pregnant. You stayed in that position for a few minutes, feeling the warmth of the sunrays coming through the window and calming your body. You felt safe and secure and couldn't help but smile, as you thought about the life that was growing inside of you.

You stayed there, eyes closed, feeling the warmth of the sun and the comfort of the sofa, as your mind wandered through the possibilities of the future. You just wanted to savor the moment, to make sure you could remember it forever. You had taken the pregnancy test several times, but it was still hard to believe that you were actually going to have a baby.

You had so many questions - you were wondering if the baby was the size of a bean or if it was even smaller than that. You were filled with a mix of emotions - from excitement to fear. You were going to become a mom. Wondering how you were going to explain to your father that you got pregnant by your bosses you couldn't help but let out a sigh. You knew things were going to get more complicated now.

You had always been taught to do the right thing and you knew this was the wrong thing to do. You wanted to do the right thing and take responsibility for your actions but you were afraid of what your father's reaction would be. He had always been so strict and you knew he wouldn't approve of this situation. You felt so helpless and confused.

You were already in a difficult situation, having to work for a man that you felt attracted to and now being pregnant with his child. You felt lost as to how you were going to explain this to your father. What would he think of you? How would you even begin to explain what had happened?

“Oh yeah dad! I thought my boss was super hot and I slept with him and guess what? I'm pregnant!” Sarcastically you let out another sigh. You really screwed up this time. You shook your head and let out a deep sigh. You had just been telling your father about the problems you were having at work, and now this. You knew your dad was going to be disappointed in you. You could already hear the lecture he was going to give you.

However, you knew that you had to take responsibility for your actions and face the consequences. You hoped that your father would understand and support you, but you also knew that you needed to learn from this mistake and make better choices in the future.

You couldn't even tell your mother because she had died when you were born. Never being able to be raised with a mother figure you were all alone im this situation. You covered your face with your arm. Trying your best to forget about everything and just go to sleep.

Maybe a nap would help you process everything and get you in a better mood. You had so much on your mind and felt so alone. You had no one to talk to, no one to turn to. You wanted someone to just listen, someone who could understand what you were going through and be there for you. But there was no one, and you had to find a way to cope with your emotions on your own.

"How long was I out?" you groaned as you rubbed your eyes, still trying to wake up.

You were surprised to see Satoru standing there, wearing his casual black glasses and with his suitcase next to him. It was clear that everyone had already left the building and it was just the two of you. "Did I oversleep?" you asked.

With a deep sigh, you slowly stood up from the comfortable embrace of the sofa. You felt a dull ache throughout your body, as if you had been in the same position for hours. You reached up and rubbed your forehead, trying to ease the tension. Taking a deep breath, you rubbed one of your eyes with your other hand, blinking away the sleepiness.

Realizing that you must have been asleep for a while. Satoru replied , "Not too long, just a couple of hours. You looked so peaceful, I didn't want to wake you up." You were grateful for his thoughtfulness and couldn't help but smile back at him.

“You were asleep for three hours." Helping you up Satoru offered his hand. Taking it you thanked him silently before taking all of your stuff and leaving his office.

You checked the time on your phone and realized it was already past midnight. You had slept for the past three hours while Satoru was patiently watching you from his chair. You were embarrassed but grateful for his understanding and kindness. You thanked him as you gathered your things and made your way out of his office.

You walked outside into the parking lot, as you sat inside the luxurious Mercedes Benz, you couldn't help but feel a little out of place. Satoru barely acknowledged your presence as he started the car and drove towards his parents' mansion. It was clear that he was more focused on his own comfort and status, rather than making you feel welcome. Despite the extravagant surroundings, you couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off.

You took out your phone, your fingers gently tapping on the screen trying to send a text to your dad. Letting him know you might come home later than usual as you were going to meet Satorus parents. As you typed out the message, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and nervousness. You couldn't resist the curiosity and ended up searching for Satoru's lover on Instagram. You typed her name into the search bar multiple times until you finally found her profile. As you clicked on it, you discovered that her name was "Asami Oba."

As you scrolled through her photos, you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. She seemed to have a perfect life - traveling to exotic locations, attending luxurious events, and surrounded by beautiful people. You couldn't believe Satoru was dating someone like her. It made you question your own self-worth and wonder what he saw in her that he didn't see in you. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't help but continue scrolling through her profile, torturing yourself with images of their seemingly happy relationship.

However, it still bothered you to see the pictures of Asami and Satoru together. You couldn't help but feel a sense of betrayal, even though you knew she had nothing to do with the reason why he slept with you. It was a constant reminder that you were the other woman, and that their relationship was still going strong while you were left to deal with the aftermath. It made your stomach turn every time you saw one of their pictures with a caption that said "with my love."

The picture that stood out the most was undoubtedly the one featuring them in the Eiffel Tower. The breathtaking view of the iconic landmark served as a backdrop, capturing their joy and creating a lasting memory of their trip to Paris.

As you watched Satoru lost in his thoughts, you couldn't help but wonder about the consequences that would arise once his lover discovered the truth about your pregnancy. The situation seemed to hang in the air, heavy with uncertainty and potential conflict.

What felt like forever finally had come to an end, you couldn't help but feel out of place as you stepped out of the car. The house was even more luxurious than you had imagined, the expensive cars and perfectly manicured lawns. Satoru's parents were known for their wealth and you couldn't shake off the feeling that you didn't belong there. You knew Satoru's parents were going to judge you for not dressing more formally, but you were too exhausted from work to change.

"Listen Y/N," he said before ringing the doorbell. His expression suddenly changed, as if a wave of desperation had washed over him. His eyes were pleading, his hands trembling.

"I'm warning you my family is very old fashioned," licking his lips, that's all he said before ringing the doorbell.

You could practically hear your heartbeat, feeling as if your heart was going to jump out of your body. As you nervously waited for the door to open, you couldn't help but wonder what kind of traditional customs and expectations his family might have. Would they approve of your relationship? Would they expect you to conform to their beliefs? The unknown made your stomach churn with anxiety.

As the door swung open, a small click sound could be heard. A man, who looked identical to Satoru but slightly older, stood in the doorway. He quickly glanced at his son before his eyes landed on you. Raising an eyebrow, he muttered a few words under his breath, "Oh god, your mother is going to be ballistic."

"Father, please." pleaded Satoru as he held onto your hand, almost crushing.

"Please come in, it's a pleasure to meet you. My wife is in the living room, so please have a seat there." Said Satoru's father, gesturing towards the living room. He was a tall and imposing man, his deep voice echoing through the spacious hallway. You couldn't help but feel a bit intimidated as you followed him inside.

The intricate details, luxurious furnishings, and spacious layout of the Gojo mansion left you in awe. It was everything you would expect from a wealthy family's home. As you walked through the halls, admiring the lavish decor and elegant architecture, you couldn't help but utter a soft "Wow" under your breath. While you may have seen similar houses before, there was something about the design of this one that was truly impeccable and breathtaking.

As you sat on the silky white couch, you were met with Satoru's mother's gaze. It was intense and piercing, making you feel uncomfortable and self-conscious. She seemed to be silently judging you, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease and inadequacy under her scrutiny. You shifted nervously, unsure of how to react or what to say to break the tension.

"What's your name?" her strong voice practically echoed. Despite her age, she was still stunning, with striking features and an air of elegance.

"Y/N, it's lovely to meet you, Mrs. Gojo." You replied with a warm smile, trying to make her feel welcome and at ease.

"So, what business do you have with my son?" she asked, her tone icy and unwelcoming. "To be more specific, what do you want from him?" Her sharp gaze bore into you, daring you to give her an answer she didn't want to hear.

"Mom," he said, avoiding eye contact with his mother. "She's pregnant and the child is mine." Her gaze softened as she laid her eyes on Satoru, her future grandchild. She could see the worry and fear in her son's eyes.

"Are you sure it's your child?" She questioned, looking you up and down before sighing. Her disbelief was evident as she struggled to accept the news. Doubt and confusion filled her mind, unsure of how to react to this unexpected information. She took a deep breath before finally asking, "How can you be sure?"

"I'm not convinced that you are the father," she questioned, eyeing you up and down before letting out a sigh.

"Mom, she's the only woman I've slept with in a while. Please," he pleaded.

"Do you have anything to say to that?" she asked, her eyes fixed on Satoru's father who wore a disappointed expression. His son had made a mistake and it was clear that he was struggling to come to terms with it. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, and it was clear that he had nothing to say in response.

"As long as it wasn't Asami," he said, your heart broke at the mention of his lover's name.

"I totally forgot about that girl," said his mother, chuckling at the memory of her. "She was so pretty, but unfortunately her background was not so great."

The atmosphere in the room changed as soon as her name was mentioned, satoru shifted his weight uncomfortably and it was clear that her presence had a profound effect on him. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt and longing when her name was brought up.

Memories of their time together flooded his mind, causing him to nervously bite his lip. He knew he should move on, but the thought of her still had a hold on him.

"Well since you two are over here fucking and populating the earth like little bunnies, it's time for you to take responsibility for your actions," she said sternly as she interlocked her hands together. "I want you two to get married and commit to raising this child together." Her tone was serious and determined as she laid out her expectations for the young couple.

"Mother, I don't even know her that well, let alone love her," you side eyed Satory, seeing his eyes widen at the mention of marriage. You could tell he was visibly frustrated and not ready for such a commitment. It was clear that he needed more time to get to know this person before even considering marriage.

"You know her well enough to have sex with her, please Satoru, you're grown now." Shaking her head, she got up, "and I expect the marriage to be soon. Don't you know how ruined your reputation would be if they found out you got some lowlife pregnant?" she yelled.

"But Mother," Satoru pleaded, "I don't think I'm ready for marriage yet." His mother's face softened as she let out a sigh.

"I know, but it's important for our family's reputation. You know how strict society can be with these things." Satoru hung his head, knowing that he couldn't argue with his mother's logic.

This turn of events was completely unexpected for you. Marriage was never a part of your plans, and you never would have imagined that his mother would actually want you to marry her son instead of getting rid of you.

"I want you to be moved in his house by tomorrow," She said, her voice filled with anger as she glared at you. Satoru's father stood up and gently grabbed his wife's shoulders, trying to calm her down.

"Let's go now, you know how you get with these things," He said, leading her away from the situation. It was clear that their heated argument was not something to be taken lightly.

You couldn't believe how quickly she had dismissed you and Satoru from her house. Your mind was racing with questions and confusion from the confrontation you had just witnessed.

Satoru held his head low, not wanting to look at you anymore. "Fuck," he mutterd between his breath. Satoru's expression was cold and distant, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of fear. You knew he was capable of hurting you, and it seemed like he was about to.

"Gojo," You said timidly, hoping to break through to him. But before you could finish, he roughly pushed you towards the car. You stumbled, your heart racing as you realized that you were completely at his mercy.

"What did I do wrong?" you asked, tears welling up in your eyes.

"Why did you have to get pregnant and not her?" He spat at your face, and you couldn't help but feel like it was somehow your fault. Despite the hormones coursing through your body, you couldn't hold back the tears any longer and you broke down in sobs.

You stood there, stunned by his words. You couldn't believe he would say something like that, especially when you were carrying his child. The tears welled up in your eyes, and you didn't know if it was the hormones or if it was just you feeling completely overwhelmed and hurt by his words. How could he be so heartless and insensitive?

"I didn't think this would happen..." You replied, your voice trembling with nervousness. You couldn't believe that this was actually happening. You couldn't even bring yourself to look at him, your gaze dropping to the floor. Your stomach was in knots and you couldn't help but swallow nervously, unsure of what to do or say next.

"Fuck!" He yelled, frustration evident in his voice as he passed his hand through his hair in exasperation.

"What the hell am I supposed to do now?" He yelled, frustration evident in his voice as he ran his hand through his hair in exasperation.

"Gojo, please." You pleaded, desperately clinging to his arm. But he forcefully pushed you away, his expression hard and unyielding. It was clear he did not want to be bothered, and you could feel your heart sinking with each step he took away from you.

"Get in the car Y/N," he said urgently, "I'm taking you home with me. I'll ask someone to get your things." Your heart dropped at his words. You knew you weren't even allowed to go home, to see your father. The thought of leaving him alone by himself was almost too much to bear.

"But Satoru, my father," you said, protesting as you opened the car door and sat inside. You were hesitant to leave without saying goodbye to your father, but Satoru urged you to hurry as the car started to pull away from his parents house.

"I don't care about your father, you're my soon-to-be wife. You will listen to me, Y/n." His eyebrows furrowed, he sped up.

You looked away and just stared at the window. Watching as you passed by buildings. The moon had come out, shinning down on you. You wondered if maybe life would be better if you got to be the moon - free to shine and roam the sky without anyone trying to control or dictate your every move. But the reality was that you were stuck in this car, with a person who didn't value your thoughts or feelings. You wished you could escape, but you knew that marrying him would only trap you further.

It seemed so peaceful and distant, away from all the conflict and tension happening in your relationship. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy towards the moon, longing for its serenity. But as you looked back at your fiancé's angry expression, you knew you couldn't escape your reality. You were stuck in this tumultuous relationship, always having to put his needs and desires above your own.

"But can I still see him?" You asked, your voice trembling with worry. Satoru let out an exasperated sigh, feeling frustrated with the endless stream of questions you had. "Yes, you can still see him," he reassured you, hoping to ease your concerns.

As you sat there, deep in thought, you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. Was this truly the right decision for you and your unborn child? The weight of responsibility and sacrifice weighed heavily on your mind. You knew that this child would inevitably cost you everything - your freedom, your happiness, and possibly even your own self. Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to speak up and go against Satoru's family wishes. You were trapped in a situation that seemed to have no good outcome.

You anxiously bit your lip, dreading the thought of having to meet new people and make new friends. There was also the added uncertainty of whether or not you would still be working for your fiancée once you moved.

Not to mention the press and newspaper would get ahold of this new engagement. The Gojo's were almost treated as royalty here.

"Do you want to stop for food?" he asked, quickly checking on you before focusing back on the road.

"No."

"What about the baby?" he said, raising an eyebrow as he slowly put his hand on your stomach. "Our baby needs to eat too, Y/N."

You licked your lips proceeding to ask him if he could stop by a nearby fast food or just anything at this point. The last thing you ate was the sandwich during lunch.  He began driving towards the nearest place that sold Onigiri. To be completely honest you didnt have much friends beside utahime.

You were the last remaining original member of your team, and it was lonely at times. You missed the camaraderie and inside jokes that you shared with your former coworkers. But you were grateful for Utahime's friendship. Asami had joined two years ago. However, things changed when they discovered Satoru and Asami's affair almost a year ago.

It seemed odd that she would come back after everything that had happened. Was she truly that deeply in love with Satoru that she couldn't bear to be separated from him? Or was there another motive behind her return? It was hard to shake the feeling that something was not quite right.

You grabbed your phone once again only to be surprised to see so many people had followed you on social media. Confused you clicked on the news article that was labeled "Has the CEO of Berkshire found a new woman?"

You couldn't believe it - the news was spreading like wildfire. You had never expected your life to change so drastically after just one night out with Satoru. As you scrolled through your notifications, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed and a little scared of the attention. You knew that this new attention could bring both positives and negatives, but you weren't quite sure how to handle it all.

"Satoru, there are already articles written about us." He parked outside the small restaurant.

Getting out he asked before leaving, "What do you want from here?" I'm not sure if it's worth the risk to go inside." Satoru hesitated, knowing that any action they took could potentially land them in even more scandals.

"Can you get me an umeboshi onigiri please?" He closed the door and walked towards the restaurant, leaving you alone in the car. You quickly dialed your father, hoping he could bring you an umeboshi onigiri as well.

"Hello Y/N? are you there?”

"Dad, I'm sorry for not answering your calls. I might not be able to come home today as I'm stuck doing paperwork at work. Please don't wait up for me, I don't want you to stay up too late." You could hear the relief in his voice as he responded to your message. It was important for you to let him know what was going on and reassure him that you were okay.

"Okay sweetie, just please let me know if you need anything," you said with a sigh as you said your goodbyes. Turning off your phone, you couldn't help but feel helpless, knowing that there was nothing more you could do to help.

Your mind was filled with a mix of emotions and insecurities as you read the comments on the Instagram posts of you and Satoru. You couldn't help but wonder what people were saying about you and if they were judging you based on your appearance. You looked around nervously, hoping to see Satoru inside. Thankfully, he was still standing in the restaurant, talking on the phone.

As you clicked through the comments, you couldn't help but feel hurt and disappointed by the harsh and derogatory words directed towards you.

"Shes way prettier than the other girl!"

"she looks like a commoner..."

"What a skank!"

You could already feel the fatigue and discomfort that came with being pregnant, and you weren't even showing yet. The thought of carrying a child for nine months and then going through childbirth was daunting and overwhelming.

Satoru came back with two onigiris, handing you one and keeping the other for himself. You quickly ate it, not caring if he judged you for having no manners in front of him. After all, you were too hungry to worry about etiquette.

"We're almost home yet so dont worry, I can ask my maid to make you something if you'd like."

"No thanks." you replied just wanting to go and sleep already.

The stars were shining brightly in the sky, and the moon illuminated your path as you made your way home. The cool air was refreshing after a long day, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for the peacefulness of the night. As you drove, your mind drifted to the events of the day and you couldn't help but feel a sense of exhaustion creeping over you. But the thought of finally being home, in the comfort of your own bed, kept you going. You leaned your head back against the headrest and let the darkness of sleep overtake you.

"Geto, did you hear what I said?" All Satoru could hear from the other line was laughter, making him feel frustrated and unheard. Despite his repeated attempts to communicate, it seemed like his words were falling on deaf ears. He wondered if Geto was really taking him seriously or not.

"No way," exclaimed Geto, who was currently at a business party on the other side of the world. "You got her pregnant? Talk about a major backfire!" He chuckled, amused by his friend's predicament.

He was about to ask for her number when his best friend called, desperate for his attention. Though he wanted to continue flirting with the hot chick, he reluctantly answered his friend's call.

"And now we have to get married," shaking his head, Satoru picked you up from the seat. His maid had helped him open the door to his house, and he was grateful for his strength.

"Hey man, I told you to just have a one-night stand with her, not to get her pregnant and marry her." Geto said in the other line, he picked up a pen and wrote down his number in the napkin handing it to the cute bartender.

" What about Asami? Isn't she the love of your life?" he asked teasingly, giving him a playful tone. “Have you told her yet?"

He slowly placed you on his bed, his gaze never leaving you. "Can you change her into something more comfortable?" he asked his maid, who nodded before closing the door behind her.

"I haven't told Asami," Satoru admitted. "She's still insisting we get back together." He grabbed a beer from his refrigerator and took off the cap with a small pop before taking a sip.

"But I don't think it's a good idea. We've been through this before and it never ends well." Satoru sighed, knowing that his decision would only lead to more tension and arguments with Asami. But he also knew that it was the right thing to do for both of them.

"I would pay to see her reaction, she's probably going to go crazy." With a sly smirk, Geto had already entered the bartender's contact information into his phone.

Satoru laughed and took a sip of his drink. "I know, but that's what makes her so irresistible," he replied with a grin.

"Besides, I like a little bit of crazy in my life." He uncrossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. "You should try it sometime."

Geto chuckled and raised his glass in agreement. "Maybe someday, but for now I'll stick to watching your crazy love life from the sidelines."

"Maybe next time I suggest using condoms," he began, but his laughter interrupted him once again. "Man, you're so screwed. I just know your old lady had a tantrum." His words were met with a bit of amusement.

"What about you and Shoko, huh?" Satoru asked, taking off his shirt and laying down on his couch with a beer in hand.

"You guys have been spending a lot of time together lately." His tone was teasing, but there was a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"It's complicated," said Geto who was practically eye-fucking the bartender on the other end of the phone. The tension between them was palpable, and their relationship was anything but simple.

"Complicated my ass," he thought as he took a sip from his cold beer and smiled. "I bet you're already thinking of having sex with someone else."

“And you’re absolutely right.” With a smirk Geto made his way to her. Satoru was able to hear his whole conversation start to finish.

“You know what i’ll call you later, you have fun.” Satoru took one last sip of his beer before going to the restroom to shower. He turned off his phone and threw it on the sink before undressing himself.

He regretted the night it happened and wished he could take it back. The thought of you now made him cringe, and he couldn't wait to move on and forget about it. He didn't think he could ever find anything about you interesting, and he just wanted to forget the whole thing ever happened.

He couldn't believe his luck - or rather, his misfortune - when he found out that his arranged marriage was to be with someone he barely knew. He couldn't help but compare this stranger to Asami, the woman who held his heart. He couldn't shake off the feeling that this marriage was a mistake, and that he would never be truly happy with anyone other than Asami. But now, he was stuck with this random person who worked for him, pretending to be his wife. He couldn't help but wonder if he had made the wrong choice in agreeing to this marriage.

Despite the intense attraction he felt towards Asami, he couldn't deny that their relationship was tumultuous and unpredictable. There were moments where she seemed to understand him better than he understood himself, but there were also times when she drove him to the brink of insanity. Even now, he couldn't shake the memories of their secret rendezvous, the adrenaline-fueled sex that still haunted his dreams. But as thought of you, his heart aches with regret, wishing that he had chosen Asami instead of you, hoping that he could have created a family with her instead.

His mind would just wander off to when he would have Asami all to himself - skin to skin, after sharing a passionate night together. The way her hair would stick to her face when he was so close to cumming inside her drove him wild. He couldn't wait to have her all to himself again, without any distractions or interruptions.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, feeling his body react to the thought of her naked form pressed against his. The anticipation and desire grew, making him hard and unable to focus on anything else. He couldn't wait to have her in his arms and fulfill every fantasy he had been imagining.

He grabbed shampoo and shoved it all over his face, rubbing his face before rinsing it off. He grabbed his towel and wrapped it around his torso. He grabbed his toothbrush and started brushing his teeth vigorously. After rinsing his mouth, he quickly dried off and went to his room.

Opening the door, he was met with your peaceful sleeping figure, dressed in shorts and a big t-shirt. He couldn't help but smile at how adorable you looked. As he changed into his pajamas, he couldn't help but feel a bit regret on treating you so hurtful.

He felt a pang of loneliness as he snuggled up to you, his fiancée, and not the person he truly desired. He could feel your warmth and smell your familiar scent, but it only intensified his longing for someone else. As he whispered goodnight, he couldn't help but imagine it was his lover in his arms instead.

"Goodnight Asami," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Despite the fact that you were wide awake, Satoru cuddled up to you and drifted off to sleep. You could hear his deep breathing before you bit your lip and silently let tears fall down your cheeks. It hurt to know that he couldn't even say your name.

[letorip]

somethin' stupid [ii]

"and though it's just a line to you, for me it's true and never felt so right before"

===+++===

pairing: wednesday addams x reader

summary: it's all her fault, and wednesday can't help but feel it in her bones.

warnings: mentions of blood, the police (gross), hospitalisation, crying

word count: 4.8k

A/N: thank you all for the love and support you have given to this silly little story of mine. it is absolutely insane. red font denotes the thoughts of those around you. kind of worried i may have rushed the ending, but i hope you like it anyhow. right, anyways...

===+++===

It took an additional thirty four minutes and twenty eight seconds after the beast sunk its claws into your chest, for Wednesday to come wandering out of the line of trees stretching to the cloudy sky and onto the nearby mountain street, still wearing your bright yellow raincoat bunched around her wrists.

Finding the cave had not turned out to be entirely as difficult as she had expected, and she managed to find its charred remains just as Eugene had said. There was no evidence to gather, really, and there never had been to begin with.

In the far away distance, only lightly covered by the rain, it sounded as if a flock of birds were screaming at each other and fighting, and the noise rang throughout the forest before settling in Wednesday’s ears. She had already been annoyed and frustrated enough tonight. The extra noise just set her even more on edge than before.

It took another sixteen seconds and a few steps closer then, for Wednesday to realise the noise bleeding from around the bend in the road wasn’t in fact, a group of birds. Instead, it was the worst sound Wednesday could ever want to hear.

Within an instant, Wednesday took off running, every sickening realisation clicking at once. The vision that had been plaguing her nightmares and every interaction with you came back in full force. Her stomach began to churn as she went, heart burning and ears ringing. She knew.

When Wednesday rounded the curve, she saw the cars and their sirens.

The red and blue lights bounced off of the dirt and pavement even from far away, reflecting in the rain water as it pummelled to the ground. Five police cruisers sat strewn every which way along the shoulder of the road, headlights on and pointed into the underbrush. Officers wandered the clearing, pointing their flashlights into the dark and yelling loudly to each other in an attempt to overcome the rain.

As Wednesday rushed towards the vehicles, a man stepped out of the closest car to her, wearing a plastic blue poncho that did mostly nothing to stop the merciless pounding of the furious rain. He spoke into a little radio on his shoulder, staring out into woods at his men while they searched.

Wednesday’s loud steps from her thick shoes warned him of her nearing, and the man turned, hand dropping from his radio. She was immediately displeased, greatly so; the man was Sheriff Galpin. He looked just as unhappy to see her, frown drooping into a wry glower.

“Addams what are you doing out here??!” He shouted at her over the storm, hands placing themselves on his hips. “It’s sure as hell past your curfew, now go back to Nevermore, dammit!“

Wednesday walked right up to him then, tugging him roughly by the poncho and his collar, which she balled up dangerously in her fist. It was a warning, and she meant it. Potentially, she meant it more than any threat she had previously given. “Who did you find.”

Sheriff Galpin’s eyebrows lowered, a line appearing in his forehead as he stared her down. “That’s official Jericho Police Department business, missy. You need to-“

Her grip on his clothing tightened. “Now.” Her voice shook a little. “Who did you find.”

He looked at her for a moment in the flickering blue and red of the dark, examining the look on her face. Her eyes were shining, though she would never admit to it. The old sheriff sighed. “Some kid from Nevermore was attacked. You might have known ‘em. Name was like, (Y/n) or something.”

Wednesday’s hand went slack, dropping back down to her side. “Were…,” she swallowed, attempting to cool the heat rushing to her face. It felt as if the Earth had just broken away from its orbit, to float off directionless into space. “Were they killed?”

For the first time, Sheriff Galpin seemed almost soft. He bent down to her a bit, patting her on the shoulder awkwardly as if to say ‘there, there.’ He had never liked the Addams girl much, though that seemed highly irrelevant in the moment.

“Uh, luckily no, though the camper who found them said they were awful close. The EMTs got here just in time. They’re headed to the hospital.”

Wednesday pulled back, tensing at his hand. “Give me a ride to the hospital,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. The sheriff shook his head.

“Nuh uh, no way. You’re going back to school, kid. It’s too late for you to be out here anyways, and I’m sure Weems would like to know why the hell you were out past curfew in the first place.”

She glared. “I need to be at that hospital.”

The sheriff rolled his eyes at her, any moment of softness gone upon remembering why he disliked her and her family so much. “Like hell I’m going to take you there.”

Wednesday blinked at him.

===+++===

The night was still dark but no longer raining, when Sheriff Galpin speedily dropped Wednesday off with her bloody fist at the front step of the hospital.

Punching the tree again and again had hurt, the sharp bark slicing through the skin of her knuckles, but it also meant she needed a nurse and potentially stitches, and there was only one place capable of offering such services. Suffice to say, the sheriff wouldn’t become her fan any time soon.

The clock had slowly crawled to four in the morning, and though Wednesday was exhausted, and Enid and Thing were potentially freaking out back at the school as to where the hell either of you were, Wednesday was a bit more concerned with figuring out where in the hospital your room was. Oh, and maybe aiding her fist, which was now dripping blood onto the patterned green carpeting as she went.

Upon entering and striding right up to the front counter, Wednesday had gotten straight to business. She held up her bloody fist, placing it with a 'thud' on top of an infographic that sat on the reception desk. The previously sleepy-looking teenage receptionist stared at Wednesday with a look of wide awake, abject horror. “Tell me where the ER is,” she said.

"Uh...over there?” said the girl, raising a weak finger towards the doors in the far left and unable to pry her eyes away from Wednesday’s hand.

Wednesday nodded a single time before walking off, leaving the receptionist to lean over the counter and watch her go. The sign over the door was marked 'ER,' and Wednesday followed down the brightly lit hall until she arrived at a new waiting area. The people in there looked much worse for wear than the empty entrance at the front.

Nervous parents sat cradling their obviously sick children, a construction worker was repeatedly coughing in the corner with his head propped up, trying to stay awake, and a woman in a pantsuit was cradling her foot in a cast and wincing. If this was an omen to who was in your company, it was certainly a bad one.

Wednesday did just as she had before, walking right up to the desk with her hand and showing it to the nurse at the front. Only this time, the woman gave her a worried look, picking up the black phone to her right immediately and dialling a few numbers into the keypad.

“Uh, stay right there, ma’am,” the woman said. Wednesday nodded. She didn’t intend to go anywhere anyways.

The nurse who had come to find her was an older woman, with smile lines crinkling around her mouth and winging off the corners of her eyes. She looked almost like a grandmother, except the electric pink afro she had curled off of her head in coils that spoke of youth and vitality and fun. Enid would have liked her, and Wednesday knew you would have too, but she hated the colour pink just as she (mostly) disliked fun people.

The woman had gotten straight down to business, pulling Wednesday into a room with a metal tray of supplies already picked out and holding up her hand.

Even being someone who enjoyed pain as she did, the antiseptic stung when it was placed over the scratches on her fingers. She hissed a bit, and the nurse glanced up at her with pitying eyes, grabbing the supplies for her stitches off of a metal tray.

"You said you punched a tree?"

Wednesday was suspicious of the woman's sudden interest, but nodded. The nurse could probably tell her where you were anyhow. She didn't like making friends, but she could at least make allies. She had called you one of her allies when you had asked. Remembering that hurt now.

"Yes,” she replied, a bit annoyed with the question.

"Why'd you do that, then?"

"I needed to come here. It's important." The nurse began to stitch her up, and Wednesday flinched at the sudden contact.

"What’s important about here?"

Wednesday glanced down at her soaked, dirty shoes. "There's someone staying here I need to see." The nurse looked up at her then, studying her carefully.

"You're here for that kid that came in after being attacked." Wednesday swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. The nurse sighed, wrinkles filling her forehead as she finished up Wednesday's middle finger and moving to her ring finger, holding up the pad to the light. "They were rushed into emergency surgery about twenty minutes ago. You'll have to wait here a while, and just to warn you: it isn’t pretty." Wednesday sent a small glance to her, one that spoke of a timidness the situation had drawn out of her that wasn't previously there.

“Why don't you go home for the night? Get yourself cleaned off and dry."

She shook her head at the woman, frown deep and telling. "I need to be here when they wake up. They don't have anyone else. Both of their parents are deceased, and I need to be there for them."

"I'm sure they would appreciate you coming this far, honey. They're very lucky to have someone who cares for them as much as you do. I've been a nurse for a loooong time, and trust me when I say you've done plenty."

She certainly had not. Wednesday was not immune to the morbid irony of the situation at hand. In reality, she had cared all too much, pretended that she cared not at all, and tricked you for the longest time into thinking she cared too little. Caring had gotten her nowhere- worse, it had gotten you into an ambulance.

"I'm...worried," she struggled to spit the word out at the nurse, who looked at her with soft eyes of encouragement. "I've said some things, that I don’t think I’ll be able to apologise for."

"Shhh," the nurse hummed, finishing Wednesday's final knuckle and taking out some bandages to wrap around the raw skin. "You'll get the chance."

“I’m not sure I will,” Wednesday's frowned deepened. Her lip threatened to quiver a bit, but it was true. She had been so foolish to bring you along- so selfish to allow you to push the bounds of your own safety. It sat lodged in her stomach like a tumour, growing and growing.

If this is what it meant to love you, Wednesday wasn't sure she was ready.

The older woman gave her a sad smile. "Look, there's no shame in making mistakes. The shame is in being too proud to ask for forgiveness for them," she said, standing up from her chair. "They'll be in room 304, I think. Should be out of surgery in a couple hours, in case you want to…”

“I’m not leaving,” Wednesday insisted. And she didn’t, for a while.

Very little could spook an Addams, especially one such as Wednesday, but she had decided it was all too much, seeing you after surgery. It was an utterly horrific sight. Had it been anyone else, Wednesday would be staring at the intricacies of the scars waiting patiently to form, marvelling at the magic of twisted skin and scabs. But no, it was you in that bed, wheeled right in, and she felt the rare urge to vomit.

You were hooked up to so many machines. Buzzing, whirring, and beeping were the only things keeping you alive, and it served as a painful reminder for everything that could have been lost.

A ventilator sat over your mouth, covering your soft lips and strapped to your jaw. Live, it said, as did the several needles and monitors that were hooked into the skin of your hands and arms. There was too much surface area covered. Wednesday, even if she had wanted to, couldn't have held your hand.

Blood was still very much crusted to the planes of your skin in parts, or at least what was visible of it behind your bandages. The white cotton sat in squares and rectangles, taped to your chest and along the stretch of your cheeks and face. You would never be the same, and Wednesday knew it then.

Always, you would bear the evidence of the attack when someone saw you for the first time and winced a bit, and Wednesday held herself as partially responsible. Her love was too thick to sit in. Wednesday Addams swallowed the tears she would deny crying.

She sat with you an hour, then she walked down to the payphone on the corner and called Enid as the sun finally settled for the morning sky.

===+++===

In the three weeks since your attack, you had yet to wake up. The doctors said it was a coma, and that they had no idea when you would wake, if at all, and that only made Wednesday feel worse. She had gone to visit you before, after, and sometimes even during class. Her own hand had healed nicely, though there would be a permanent scar over the knuckle of her index finger from a particularly nasty cut,

On one visit, Enid had said it was as if you "were sleeping," but Wednesday couldn't disagree more. When you slept, it was on your side with your mouth, open, snoring softly. No, instead, you looked like a dead body. Even after acquainted with the room, Wednesday still felt a great pain in her chest upon seeing you every day like that.

Principal Weems had been more than angry, discovering another student had been hospitalised as a result of Wednesday's actions. She was also worried, and annoyingly tried to sign Wednesday up for more sessions with Kinbott.

That wasn't what Wednesday needed, and she shrugged it off as such, every time Kinbott tried to bring up what happened to you, like she was waiting for her to burst into tears. An Addams didn’t cry. Instead Wednesday let the guilt eat her alive.

She also hungered for vengeance. Strewn across her floor was a giant mental map of everything involved in the case, from photos of the bodies (Enid had fainted twice) to crime scenes, and even potential suspects, all laid out accordingly.

As soon as visiting hours were over, she bid you adieu and threw on your yellow raincoat that still smelled like you, before heading out into the dark to solve the mystery. Maybe it was a way to say she was sorry, maybe it was a manifestation of you potentially never waking up- Wednesday didn't know.

What was even more frustrating was how she knew you held the final puzzle piece. She wasn't a fool- your ability to see into the thoughts of those around you was probably what had caused the attempt on your life in the first place. You had intentionally placed yourself in harms way, then, turning off your abilities for her.

You were incredibly powerful for one so laissez-faire about life- a fact that only offended Wednesday more, as you had been the target and not her, or someone else. You, who had just worn your heart on your sleeve to her, listened to her throw it away, and then immediately gotten attacked. You didn't deserve that, just as much as Wednesday didn't deserve you.

Then came the question of what you did deserve to hear when you awoke. If she was such an excellent writer, why couldn't she think of what to say to you if that ever happened? It still didn't feel good enough, no matter how many times she rewrote the letters or changed the order of the sentences. Nothing seemed to feel good enough.

===+++===

Around the fourth week, Wednesday began to leave you long thoughts, like diary entries. She didn't even know if you could hear her, from in there. You had been taken off a ventilator and it looked as if you were finally starting to level out a bit. Wednesday didn't know why, but she suspected you could hear her thoughts.

So she started thinking to you.

It had started small, at first. 'Today is the twenty-sixth day of you being asleep, you know. If you don't wake up, I swear I'll kill you.' She didn't even know if you could actually hear her, or if you'd want to, considering your last interaction. Wednesday itched to talk to you again, and her recounts grew longer and longer.

'Today is the twenty-eighth day of you still not waking up. Mayor Walker passed, yesterday. I have my suspicions of Xavier. He seems to meet with Dr. Kinbott frequently, and it's possible she's Laurel Gates. I'm not sure if I told you about this yesterday, but I summoned my ancestor a few days ago, Goody Addams, and she warned me of the Gates Mansion.'

'Today marks an official month, 31 days, of you not being awake yet. My Uncle Fester is in town. He sends his regards, by the way. He's the bald one I spoke of before, and he was eager to meet you... Enid and I visited the Gates' Mansion with Tyler. We were attacked and Tyler was injured. I know that may alarm you, but I assure you, I'm fine... If you don't wake up... I'll curse you forever.'

She didn't mean it.

��Today is day thirty six and you’re still not awake. Enid will be waiting with you while I go confront Xavier and have him arrested. You must forget this when you wake, but I miss you… I’m not proud of it but I do. I said I wouldn’t care for you this way but look at me now. You didn’t spoil anything, (Y/n). If you said you loved me now, I would say it back. Give me the chance to say it then, or else.’

Wednesday waited patiently for another minute, hoping even a little bit that her mind would spark you to life. When nothing happened she sighed just as she had every previous day. Enid gave her a sad smile.

“Go get him, Wends. We’ll both be here when you get back,” she said. Wednesday glared at the use of the nickname, but grabbed your yellow raincoat off the back of her chair, shrugging the oversized jacket on and heading out the door. If there was one thing she thought would make amends, it would be catching your attacker and achieving revenge all on her own.

Of course, thirty seconds later, when Wednesday was long gone, you shot up right like a rocket, and Enid let out a scream.

===+++===

You were climbing, it felt like. You weren’t sure what, but you were pulling yourself up and out of something, pads of your fingers gripping the surface and lifting. It was one clutch after the other, and you had no idea how long or where you could possibly be climbing to.

Were you dead? That was entirely possible. You had blacked out with Tyler’s claws ripping and tearing at your chest and come-to in the back of the ambulance as it sped towards the hospital. A nervous-looking paramedic stood over you, casting a shadow over your eyes, and from there you had passed out again. Maybe you had died then.

Of course, it was a possibility. Not a welcome one, but it was still a possibility. Either way, you had to figure out a way to warn Wednesday about Tyler. Maybe if you just kept climbing. Time seemed to slow down, and it was one hand after another.

There was definitely sound coming from the outside world, and it wrapped around your head in mumbly nonsensical jargon. You recognised the voice, that was definitely Wednesday, and she was definitely close. Every now and again small words like 'Xavier,' or 'Kinbott,' would peek through the mist and you were left to wonder as to why they were relevant.

You climbed a bit harder. The voice would come in and then out again, and you were left wondering if days were passing or maybe it had just been an hour. All you knew was to keep climbing. Your fingers felt raw, your arms ached to stop, but you kept going to keep Wednesday safe, wether she wanted you to or not.

Before you knew it, a hand came forward for the last time, and it was like a button had been pressed. Suddenly, you weren't in any void, or any back of an ambulance, you were in a bland hospital room, sitting straight up and looking right at a mortified Enid.

"Oh my god!" She yelled out, pointing at you in surprise. "OH MY GOD!!!" 'WHAT THE FUCK!!!!'

"TYLER!" You yelled back.

"WHAT?!" Enid yelled.

"IT'S TYLER! And hi!"

Enid fainted again, just in time for a nurse to rush in upon noticing you were awake.

===+++===

One thing you had missed dearly whilst in a coma were fruit cups. You sat rather contentedly, eating a mango fruit cup in your soft hospital bedsheets and leaning back against a checkered pillow. From around you in the hospital, noise buzzed in your mind. It felt good to have your blinders off for once, even if it meant you had to focus in on Enid and the noise directly in the room with you.

"Thirty six days???" you asked. Enid nodded.

"Wednesday- I mean all of us 'But mostly Wednesday', were worried sick that you wouldn't wake up. Are you okay? What was it like in there?" 'How the hell are you still alive???'

You shrugged. "Not really sure. I just remember my arms hurt and I was in this void-thing, trying to pull myself out..." You grew serious. "I need to speak to Wednesday."

Enid leaned forward. "And you're sure it was Tyler? He doesn't seem like he could hurt a fly."

"I saw him, Enid. He was covered in blood and he was in his own head thinking about the attack and how pleased Laurel would be for him to succeed. It's him."

"Wednesday thinks it's Xavier," she said. You shook your head.

"She's wrong. I know she's sweet on Tyler, but-"

"-She's not sweet on Tyler, (Y/n). 'You CANNOT still believe that after all of this...though I guess you were comatose' I've said this since the beginning of the year, you bozo. She's sweet on you, and you two are such idiots running around and pretending like you don't know."

The painful memory of your final interaction before the attack came back in waves, pulling you under and tugging you into the deep. You cleared your scratchy throat, still sore from its lack of use. "Enid, Wednesday made it perfectly clear how she felt about me."

Enid rolled her eyes. "You two, I swear you're going give me grey hair. Oh! Speaking of appearances," she sat up. "You haven't seen how you look yet!"

You frowned, not entirely sure you wanted to. You knew you had facial scars- the sharp slashes to your nose and cheeks were enough to know that now, but you weren't sure how much you wanted to see them. Enid pulled out her phone camera, flipping it around to selfie mode.

It wasn't as bad as you thought- a giant twist of a scar curved around the apple of your cheek before reaching up through the lateral third of your eyebrow and stopping shortly after. Another crisscrossed over the bridge of your nose. Still bad, though. They were noticeable, and those were only the ones on your face. You frowned, and Enid seemed to regret asking to show you them. 'I just messed up, didn't I.'

'Oh my, cara mia' said someone's noise in the doorway. You looked up, hearing her arrive, and there she was. Wednesday stood looking almost nervous, hands crossed over her chest awkwardly, like she was uncertain if she was welcome. You tensed. "You're awake," she said.

You nodded. Then you did Wednesday a favour and turned your own noise off to give her the privacy she coveted. Wednesday sent a look over at Enid who just stared. When the werewolf didn't take the hint, Wednesday cleared her throat.

"Oh! Sorry, sorry," said Enid, standing sheepishly. "I guess I'll just go get some food from the cantina...even though I already ate and want to see how this happens," she muttered. Wednesday sent her a much sharper glare, and Enid scurried out of the room.

The moment the door clicked shut, Wednesday spun to you. "If you died, I would have killed you."

"I know," you nodded. "Enid told me you were here all the time." She frowned.

"Never speak of that again," Wednesday said, seeming almost embarrassed. "Enid wasn't supposed to tell you that."

"She's not really good at keeping secrets. You probably shouldn't have told her anything if-"

"-Did you hear them, when you were in there?" She asked, cutting you off mid-sentence with what she had really been wondering the entire time, but too nervous to ask. You blinked.

"Hear what?" If she had been saying important things to you whilst you were under, you didn't know what she was referring to. The look on Wednesday's face was unintelligible.

"I said some important things, (Y/n)," she said, fidgeting with her fingers. "I sent them through my thoughts."

"You also said some important things before I was attacked, Wednesday. You called me a lost puppy."

"I know," she replied. "I was worried this very thing would happen if I didn't."

You snorted cynically. "Looks like it happened when you did, actually." She looked wounded by that, and now you felt bad. "I didn't mean it that way, Wends, I'm just trying to warn you-"

"I love you too," she said.

Any thoughts or words you potentially could have come back with were lost, slipping through your fingers and tumbling to the floor. Wednesday took a step closer, placing her hand on the bed next to you, flipping it over to show you her knuckles. A few small pink scars littered the skin there. You picked it up in your own, brushing over them with your thumb.

"I meant it. I love you too. Even with your scars- which are magnificent." Wednesday thought for a moment, then looked you dead in the eyes. "I love you with a love that is more than love."

"That's Edgar Allan Poe," you whispered. She nodded, then she swallowed, forcing the words out.

"I see now, that I was...wrong. I have been deceitful, and I have been unkind. I pushed you away when you deserve much more than that- likely much more than me. I cannot express how earnest my regret is, and just how much I want your forgiveness-"

"Yeah yeah, stop talking like an old English guy," you said with a laugh, pulling her scarred hand to your lips. You sat up a little bit more, and though it hurt, you pressed your lips to her palm. When you pulled away a moment later, she kissed you full-force. Her hand moved to your neck, playing with the hair there and delivering the perfect amount of gentle longing that made you fall back against the pillow.

She pulled away all too soon again, but the small smile that teased the corner of her mouth spoke of future ones to come. "You said you were going to warn me of something?" She said in between attempts to catch your breath. You raised your eyebrows, remembering the dire information at hand.

"Oh, yeah, Tyler attacked me," you said, leaning your neck back against the pillow.

"What?!" Wednesday said, pulling away with her eyes as angry as ever. "Why didn't you lead with that??" She didn't want to believe it, but she knew you wouldn't lie.

"I got there eventually, and you needed to apologise!"

Wednesday sighed, shaking her head. Though she would never admit it, she did truly miss your ridiculousness. "Anything else?"

"The master of the creature-"

"-It's called a Hyde," Wednesday corrected you.

"Yeah, that. The master of the creature wears red boots. I saw it in Tyler's vision."

The girl in black stood up, heading for the door. "Thank you, cara mia. I'll be back when this is over."

"Go get 'em tiger." She turned to you, unimpressed.

"Shut up."

"Yeah yeah, love you."

After a moment she sighed. "I love you too."

thank you all so much for your support on this story! i absolutely will be writing again, and am here to stay. i cannot thank you all enough, and as always, PLEASE tell me or message me about any typos as i will fix them ASAP. i'll definitely come back and change this later if i feel like it. i tried not to rush the ending but was also majorly conflicted as to where i should leave it off. so if it bugs me later down the line, i'll change it.

[allllium]

Jason Todd x childhood friend fem

fluff and potential angst

Jason runs into childhood friend from befor he died and she recognizes him

Back in Time

[ Jason Todd x Childhood Best Friend!Reader ]

~ Fluff, Maybe a little hurt/comfort, WC: 1,089

~ I'm so sorry this took so long 😭 Every time I went to write this it's like all ideas flew out of my head, but I finally got it done and I hope it meets your expectations<3

"Jason?"

He freezes.

He wasn't expecting to hear your voice today.

He wasn't expecting to hear your voice ever again.

Once he came back, you were gone.

He would say he tried to look for you but that isn't true. He thought your leaving was the universe telling him to leave you alone.

But now you're here. You're here and you recognize him. He doesn't know how to respond. He knows you know he heard you, otherwise he wouldn't have stopped moving.

The first thing he hears in your voice is the sadness. Not anger like he would've expected. Not even a hint of confusion. Just something sad.

After a minute of him being unmoving, clearly lost in his thoughts, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Jason." You say.

This time it's not a question.

After he hears you a second time, he brings himself to turn around and look at you.

"Hey."

"Hey." He can't tell if you're about to cry or smile.

"I'm sorry." He immediately apologizes. Maybe for leaving or maybe for not finding you. He's not quite sure.

"For what?" You ask and take a deep breath.

He sees the way tears form in your eyes and has the strange urge to cry himself.

"I don't know. I just feel like I need to."

"You don't. Dick told me what happened. That's not something you need to be sorry for." You say it so surely he doesn't know how to respond.

"I was gonna find you."

"That's not your job. I mean a phone call would've been nice." You shrug and let out a small, awkward chuckle.

"I didn't know what to do." He tells you quietly.

"I would assume." You look around the sidewalk you're on. You're standing in front of what looks like a busy shop, people walk in and out every couple seconds.

"Where did you go?" He asks you after a moment. Probably to determine whether or not he could've found you.

"I was here. I mean I stayed in Gotham just not where I was before."

"If I had known you were so close I would've gone to you but when they told you left I assumed-"

"Jason, you don't have to defend yourself." You cut him off quickly, "If I died and came back the last thing on my list would be finding someone who left."

He nods. "This might be easier if you were at least a little mad." He smiles softly at you, watching more tears shine in your eyes.

"I missed you too much to be mad right now."

He goes to say something back but someone walking by bumps into your shoulder.

"Maybe we should get coffee or something?" He suggests, not wanting to keep blocking the sidewalk traffic.

"Are you free?"

"Oh yeah, yeah." Dick can wait, he thinks to himself.

"Then yeah, coffee sounds great."

You both walk into the coffee shop and order whatever drinks sound good. Jason chooses a table against the wall and by a giant window.

You sit awkwardly in silence as you both try and think of what to say.

"How are you doing?" You ask, after multiple minutes of nothing.

"I'm okay, I think." He shrugs and takes a sip of his drink. You take notice of his fingers tapping nervously along the side of the cup.

"That's good." You nod and sigh.

"How are you?"

"I've been better." You answer honestly. Your fingers also tap nervously along your cup.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why this is so weird."

You laugh at his words, "I do. It's been a while."

"And I'm guessing we've both changed." He smiles.

"Changed? No shit Jason, look at you." You smile at him in a reassuring way. You can clearly see how dying has changed him.

"Yeah I guess I did get a little taller." He jokes and shakes his head.

"Maybe just an inch or two." You play along, laughing as you speak.

"I missed this. I missed you." He tells you with a sudden seriousness in his tone.

"Well good thing it isn't going away this time." You reach across the table and grab his hand.

It was never unusual for you and Jason to be touchy. That's just the kinda friendship you had. But this feels different.

Instead of being a friendly touch between best friends, it's more like a reassurance that's he's actually alive. A piece of you feels relief that you're not imagining this.

"I really hope so." He wishes with a frown.

"It won't. If you think I'm leaving your side anytime soon you're very very wrong."

"What's one more person to the gang that follows me everywhere?" He laughs again and squeezes your hand. It's the first time he's felt so free to last in a while.

"Where is that gang by the way? I would've expected one of them to be here by now."

"Oh I left while they weren't looking. I needed time to myself."

"You snuck out? Jason, they're probably panicking." You scold him softly.

"It's fine I'm meeting with Dick later."

You shake your head in disapproval but a smile on your face gives you away once again.

For some reason no matter how sad you are, a smile can't leave your lips.

You fall back into a silence but this time it's not awkward at all. It's a comfortable silence that reminds you of old times.

"I should probably get going. Dick will be pissed if I'm late."

"Yeah I don't doubt it." You recall the many times Dick has given long lectures about being late to anything he's involved in.

"I'll call you." He swears, standing up from his seat at the table.

"You better. I know where to find you." You stand up as well and finish off your drink.

"Yes you do." He agrees but doesn't leave.

You stand together in front of your table. Both of you are waiting for the other to move first.

Just as you're about to make the move to leave he steps forward and pulls you into a hug.

You immediately hug back and feel the tears reappear in your eyes.

"I really missed you." He whispers.

"I really missed you too." You whisper back.

You savor every moment of the embrace. Not wanting to leave out of fear that he would leave again.

But as you watch him walk away to meet with his brother, you're overcome with the happiness of knowing your best friend is here.

[stranger-stevieee]

Risk

Summary: You have a bad habit of falling in love too quickly, but is it really that bad if a certain someone happens to feel the same way? Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: use of y/n, fluff, angst? (maybe), cliche writing, first kiss

Look at me now Said I wouldn't do it, but I hunted you down Know you had a girl, but it didn't work out

Steve Harrington was very sought after. Every girl wanted him and every guy wanted to be him. You tried very hard to not fit into that stereotype but you failed miserably.

There was just something about him that drew you in. You told yourself that you wouldn't fall at his feet like every other girl at Hawkins High but you couldn't help it.

Now, Steve wasn't really known as a relationship guy. He was more of a "let's go out once or twice, have sex, then onto the next girl" type of guy (he was called "King Steve" for a reason after all) so it was a shock to everyone when he started dating Nancy Wheeler.

You were sad, just like every other girl, that you had lost your chance with him but when you heard about their breakup after a year of being together, you couldn't help but feel like you actually had a chance.

I'm not proud Guess I'm just scared of you shootin' it down You can just talk, and I'll stare at your mouth You could be bad, but I wanna find out,

Giving in to him wasn't your proudest moment but it was inevitable. You had decided that if you wanted him, you would have to go get him.

See that's what all these girls were doing wrong. They would wait for him to come to them and ask them out, when in reality if they wanted a chance they would have to take it. So that's exactly what you did.

You were in your history class that you happened to share with Steve and the teacher had just announced a research project that would take all month to complete.

Picking a partner would've been easy had your only friend in the class been there that day, but sadly she had stayed home for whatever reason. The bright side was, now you could take a chance.

You got up out of your seat and walked straight over to his. You were a bit nervous but decided it was now or never.

"Hey, Steve!" You spoke loudly due to your nerves but luckily he found it funny.

"Hey..." he paused

"Oh, it's Y/n," you said embarrassed that you had been fawning over this man that didn't even know your name.

"Right! That's right, I- I knew that"

"Yeah," you laughed it off, "So do you have a partner yet? For the project, I mean?" You stuttered over your words a bit, albeit scared of the potential recegection coming your way.

"No, actually, I don't"

"Okay, cool... do you wanna work on it together? Maybe?"

'Here it comes' You thought 'He's gonna say no, laugh in your face and...'

"Sure."

'Oh. Well, that was easy.'

And I wake up in the middle of the night With the light on, and I feel like I could die 'Cause you're not here, and it don't feel right

It's 4:28am and you can't stop thinking about him. You woke up from your dream almost 30 minutes ago and haven't been able to get back to sleep.

This dream just messed everything up because now you've come to the conclusion that you're in love with Steve Harrington.

This wouldn't be your first time loving someone but it is your first time being in love. There's a difference. You tend to love rather quickly and when you love, you love hard.

It takes a while for you to stop loving someone. But you have a feeling things will be different this time.

You think about what it would feel like if he were with you in that moment. But he's not, and it sucks.

God, I'm actually invested Haven't even met him Watch this be the wrong thing, classic God, I'm jumpin' in the deep end It's more fun to swim in Heard the risk is drowning, but I'm gonna take it

A couple weeks into working on the project and you still barely knew anything about him. The only thing you both talked about was the project and how it's coming along. You were getting nowhere.

"Hey, what do you think about coming to my place today?"

You had been digging through your locker looking for a specific book for your next class when Steve came up to you and it's safe to say that his words shocked you.

"What?" you asked

"Do you want to come work on the project at my place today?" Although he didn't sound like it, he was nervous asking you to come over.

"Sure!"

'Maybe she is interested in me' he thought

His heart fluttered at the sight of your excited smile.

Isn't it fun thinkin' I'm right when I'm probably wrong? Holding my breath like I met someone Knowing damn well that I haven't been touched by you In my head, you're in the car, and you're comin' to me And you get to my door, and you can't even speak But I think that it's sweet, yeah, I think that you're sweet

You knew Steve was rich, but you didn't know he was this rich. Standing in front of his house you were a bit worried about what was to come.

Once you finally worked up the nerve, you lifted your fist to knock on his front door. Inside Steve had seen your car pull up and stood by the door waiting for you to knock.

When he finally heard it, he waited a few seconds, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

"Welcome..." he sighed "Sorry I don't know why I said that, that was weird, let me start over... hey."

You had a small smile on your face trying not to laugh. "Hi... can I come in?"

"Oh, yeah of course."

"Thanks," you let out a little giggle

You walked in and looked around in awe. His house was 2x the size of yours. "Your house is amazing," you whispered.

"Yeah, it's great I guess. It does get lonely sometimes but... anyways we should probably finish the project."

He walked you over to the dining room where he already had his textbook laid out. You both sat down, took out everything you needed, and got to work.

After an hour of working you had finally finished the project and it had only taken you about 3 weeks. Even though you were finished, Steve didn't want you to leave yet so he suggested having an early dinner.

"I wouldn't have pinned you as a cook, Harrington," you said with a small smirk on your face.

"Yeah, well when there's no one around to cook for you, there's only two options. I can cook for myself or get takeout, and I obviously have to stay healthy so takeout's not ideal. Gotta stay in shape for the ladies, you know?"

'Maybe he isn't interested in me' you thought

"The ladies. Right." you let out a nervous laugh.

Too soon to tell you "I love you" Too soon to tell you "I love you" Too soon to tell you "I love you"

Steve could tell you were nervous to tell him something. You were standing in front of him on his front porch unsure if you were ready to say what you wanted to say. But you knew you couldn't keep it in any longer.

It had been months since you both finished the project and you had become even closer than before.

Ever since that day at his house, you've fallen for him more and more each day. And even though it might be too soon, you have to tell him.

"Umm... can I talk to you?"

"Sure, come in." He said stepping out of the doorway to let you in. "So, what's up?"

"Uh, so, I just wanted to say that... you've been an amazing friend."

Steve let out the breath he was holding and sighed with disappointment. That is definitely not what he wanted to hear. The exact opposite actually, but he let you continue anyway.

"But I can't just pretend that that's all I want to be. I love you and I know it's probably too soon to be saying this but—"

Steve suddenly stepped forward and brought his hand up to cup your face which shut you up quickly.

“Is it ok if I kiss you?” he whispered

“I would like that very much.”

He leaned in and connected his lips with yours and, if it was even possible, you fell in love with him even more. The kiss was soft and tender, way different than what you thought it would be.

It was the first time your lips were meeting, but you immediately knew that it wouldn’t be the last.

Steve was the first to pull away and as much as he didn't want to he knew he had to.

"I love you too, by the way"

"Good"

You're the risk, I'm gonna take it

[hwnglx]

pick a pile - which blackpink member are you like?

some time ago i reached over 1k followers, so i thought i could do a pac as a thank you! this reading will tell you which blackpink member you resemble, and your potential strengths and weaknesses. hope it's fun for you guys. breathe slowly, take your time and use your intuition to go with the pile that speaks to you the most. take what resonates, leave what doesn't. 𓆩♡𓆪

✧ pile 1 ✧

jennie kim

shuffled song: seasons by wave to earth

hi pile 1 person! you got 빛이 나는 solo, miss jennie kim. let's get into what your strengths and weaknesses might include.

+ you have a childlike enthusiasm for life. i can see you're this cute person full of excitement, who truly enjoys having fun and going through life in this free-spirited manner. probably have a cute smile and laugh too. and although you likely don't like feeling restricted by others and value freedom a lot, you're still good at being a teamplayer. you're a person who can match to other people, and knows how to compromise for the sake of a groups harmony, whether that's your friends, family, or colleagues at work. truly unselfish and charitable energy. you're also someone who has so much creativity flowing through your veins, and many ideas you'd love to realize. you're likely blessed with a great imagination, a lot of energy and drive once you feel passionate about something. you could also be someone who enjoys the feeling of nostalgia. you likely enjoy looking back on fond memories, and can romanticize the past sometimes. in addition, you could be blessed with a very sensitive and intuitive nature, someone who has a strong connection to your subconscious. you likely feel emotions on this very deep and intense level.

- do you sometimes hide behind a strong and proud facade, when in reality you can be easier to hurt? you might prefer hiding your emotional and sensitive nature due to the fear of appearing weak to people. you're likely to be a very giving and generous person, which might've caused others to take advantage of you in the past. this in return might've caused for your walls to go up. i can sense some trust issues and fears as well as insecurities here, which don't always find their way out. you might be prone to internalizing a lot of your struggles. there also seems to be a tendency to act in this very carefully calculated and thought-through manner, especially when it comes to other people. this likely stems from your problems with trusting people's motives. you're always alert and sometimes overly careful in your actions. you don't enjoy offending people, overstepping anyone's boundaries, riling anyone up. you might also be prone to sugarcoating your words sometimes, or being afraid of speaking up, or being straightforward, out of fear of stepping on anyone's toes.

✧ pile 2 ✧

kim jisoo

shuffled song: intro (end of the world) by ariana grande

hi pile 2 person! you got flowery miss kim jisoo. let's discuss what some of your strengths and weaknesses could include.

+ you set yourself up to veery very high standards, which in return makes you an incredibly perfectionistic person. this perfectionism is likely to have assisted you in several endeavours. you also put a lot of value into family, and keeping a harmonious circle of friends and family. there is this “everybody's darling” vibe to you, where you're just a person everyone can't help but like. very agreeable and pleasant energy. you might be known as the person everyone goes to when they have a problem, because you have a good balance between emotional understanding and compassion, as well as rational and logical thinking. you give great advice. you're likely to be a great listener, and display this reliable and trustworthy existence to your friends. like you don't allow situations of desperation to destroy you. this stable and firm energy of yours is admirable, it can help the people around you. they appreciate that quality about you. you're also incredibly smart and observant. even when you're calm and silent, you're likely hearing and listening to everything people are saying. a very perceptive and attentive person.

- you're extremely independent. so overly independent that you might sometimes struggle asking for help. if you have a problem, you're likely to try solving it on your own till the very end, even if it means having to endure more challenges because of it. you likely don't like becoming a burden to the people around you with your problems, and therefore just prefer handling difficulties alone. do you literally hate when people disrupt your plans? you're incredibly self-efficient, but maybe to such an extent, that you can obsess over the things you've mapped out for yourself. there might also be a tendency to nag a lot and micromanage other people's lives at times. i can sense there might be this almost scary duality in you as well. you usually are very composed, but once someone tests you, provokes you or riles you up, you can transform into a very different person. like cut-throat, you don't play. especially verbally, i can see your words potentially being hurtful to the people around you sometimes. you might also have problems approaching people once you've hurt them or you're going through a rough patch, and prefer detaching yourself emotionally in order to protect your own peace.

✧ pile 3 ✧

roseanne park

shuffled song: art deco by lana del rey

hi pile 3 person! you got graceful miss roseanne park, whose everything is on the ground. (excuse my lame attempt at an on the ground sneak) let's see what your strengths and weaknesses might include.

+ oooh, you are a boss through and through! you're a very strong and powerful person, with so much inner strength and resilience. you've probably been through your fair share of trials in your past, which gave you very thick skin. you also have this very elegant and mysterious energy to you, which people find very charming. you're likely to be a good flirter, a person who can sweep people's feet off the ground with your charm. (no pun intended damn 😼) you're good at connecting to people, making them feel understood and special. people just truly enjoy being around you, because you're so magnetic, and are great at creating these deep and meaningful relationships with people. very sweet and empathetic. despite your at times dominant energy, you don't put yourself above your friends or act like you're entitled or superior to them. you're much more grounded than people would think. you always remember where you came from, don't forget your roots, and have a close connection to your home. you're aware that you've been able to get to a place of stability with your own power, and are proud of the things you were able to overcome with your very own strength only.

- you can be very stubborn. like “i am doing things my way, and my way only. if you disagree, you can talk to the wall.” is what it's giving. extremely self-willed. so much so, that even if your decision ends up being wrong, your ego is likely to hold you back from admitting it. you don't really seem to enjoy showcasing your weaknesses out of fear of others looking at you as vulnerable or defenseless. deep inside, you might get scared of people hurting you. you might carry many more burdens than people realize. although some hardships can truly weigh on you sometimes, you likely don't enjoy making people believe you're struggling. you prefer making everything look easy and effortless. you can care a lot about what others think, and get scared of making yourself look like a fool or silly. there might also be a tendency for you to prefer looking at the world or certain people in a more idealized and romanticized way, especially if you really like someone, and wanna see the good in them. there might be this fear of ending up alone in you, so you actively choose to blend out negativity and focus on the positive way too much, in a way that can border on blind optimism or delusional thinking.

✧ pile 4 ✧

lisa manoban

shuffled song: worth it. by raye

hi pile 4 person! you got miss rockstar lalisa manoban. let's see what your strengths and weaknesses might include.

+ you're very self-disciplined. you might've been through some losses and disappointments in the past, which gave you the necessary know-how on how to handle them now. like negativity doesn't get to you as easily anymore, you're well-versed in handling it now, know how to deal with it gracefully. you're good at recognizing the potential of growth in every situation, and try to take every experience, good or bad, as a lesson. you're also likely a very loving person, truly care about the people close to you and put a lot of importance into them being alright. i can see you checking up on your friends or loved ones a lot and making sure they know how much you care. very affectionate, almost this fuzzy and cuddly energy. very lovey-dovey too. you might be very people-oriented and always looking to please everyone. you likely value harmony a lot. there could also be a huge sense of optimism within you, where you actively choose to ignore negativity that doesn't serve you. in this “nah i'm not dealing with this anymore.” type of way. you can also be very eager to fulfill your own goals and dreams, and feel this desire to enrich your own world. you want to feel proud of yourself. so much so that if someone displays a source of negative energy, you probably won't entertain them for much longer.

- you might have problems trusting people fully and can therefore hide or disguise several parts of yourself. this might be a habit you can't manage to break. you're not always good at being very open and straightforward about your thoughts, might often be prone to internalizing them more. confrontation might be a struggle for you. you likely get defensive pretty fast, and might feel easily attacked, or take some things way too personally sometimes. this might, as a result, trigger you to shut yourself off from that source. whether that's a person or a situation, you just might prefer detaching yourself instead of dealing with it head on, because you don't like putting yourself in that vulnerable spot. you can also be overly focused on the image people have of you, always going back and forth between doing what people expect of you and want you to do, but also wanting to do the things you yourself wanna do. this might cause some conflicting feelings within you, because you wanna please yourself, but the people around you as well. you might struggle finding harmony between your ego, personality and your feelings. your emotions might get very intense and weigh on you more than you'd like. you might find that your strong emotions can stand in your way sometimes.

[walpu]

I'm coming at you with the speed of thousand asteroids affectionately and hit you with a "your writing is awesome!"

Also, may I request an Aventurine x The Nameless!reader.

Thank you very much and have a nice day :D

Thank you so much for your kind words and for the request, it was so fun to write <З

Hope you'll enjoy it, have a good day as well 💛

Aventurine x The Nameless!reader

characters - Aventurine

notes - gn!reader, fluff, a bit of hurt/comfort. Once again, no beta. I'm so sorry.

Aventurine

Considering that the Astral Family and it's members are pretty well-known (everyone seems to know at least their names) he has probably heard something about you even before you first met him.

I can imagine your first meeting going like this: he casually approaches you, acting all buddy-buddy, and says something like "ah, mx , who knew I would meet you here of all places <З".

If your first meeting was during the Penacony quest get ready for him calling you "friend" in this sassy voice of his 💀 Yes Aven we all get it you don't have any actual friends calm down

Can imagine him trying to get closer to you by painting your potential partnership as something mutually beneficial. You could use a friend from the IPC, right? And he wouldn't mind having some connections with a "brave and honorable" Nameless. So why don't you join him for a glass of wine, hmmm?

When the two of you will eventually get closer this mf will get clingy af. Yeah I've mentioned it already in my previous post but you being one of the Nameless opens up so many new perspectives.

Visits you on the Express regularly. If he comes when you're not here, he'll wait for as long as he can for you to come back. Sadly, Aventurine is a busy, busy man. So he can't wait for long. Will leave small notes for you tho, to let you know that he was there but you didn't grace him with your presence

If you come back when he's waiting, Aven will play it off as if he himself just got there and didn't have to wait for you at all, saying somethin like "Oh look, here you're! And here I thought I would have to wait for you, haha. Seems like luck is on my side today~"

He doesn't want you to worry, after all. Also. He wants to save some face. Pom-Pom will rat him out anyway.

Speaking of Pom-Pom, they're probably sick of him at this point lol.

Would ask you about your adventures and listen very closely to every story you may want to tell. He can't help but smile softly while listening to you, he just loves seeing the passion in your eyes. Doesn't matter if the story is about you dragging the Trailblazer away from the trash cans in Belobog (or worse - admiring the trash cans with them), he will still look at you with the same adoring smile.

If you ask him what he's been up to during the time you where gone, Aven would simply laugh it off and say that his boring IPC stuff cannot compare with your bizarre adventures so it doesn't even worth mentioning. Reassure him that you don't care if it's boring, you just want to hear about his day regardless of how it went.

Sometimes he can't help but feel jealous. You're free to travel, to do whatever you want. You have this sparkle of excitement in your eyes every time you tell him about your travels. And he has nothing of it. Simply can't have.

He doesn't have any negative feelings towards you, of course. Mostly some bottled up bitterness toward his fate and himself.

He gets a bit lost in his own head every time he starts feeling this way. Please take his hand and invite him to join you during your next adventure. He will laugh softly and tell you "maybe next time, darling". Even if he doesn't know when this "next time" will come the thought of it, of you wanting to share your precious moment with him, fills him with hope.

Adores when you bring him small gifts from the places you've been. It doesn't have to be something big, really. Just the thought that you were thinking of him when the two of you were apart is enough.

Don't forget to send him pictures of yourself!!!! He wants to know how his dearest darling is doing even when they are freezing their ass off in Belobog.

Would sometimes surprise you by showing up on the planet/space ship you're currently staying on. Aventurine rarely can't stay for a long but he cherishes those short moments when he can just walk around and do nothing in particular with you.

Usually when he visits a planet it has something to do with the IPC's business so he only has time to do his job and. Well. Gamble. Maybe buy some new clothes too if he has enough time.

But with you he can actually explore the planet. You bring him to the local restaurants, small tea shops, seemingly small and insignificant places. But it’s places like these that reveal the real beauty of the planet. He slowly learns to appreciate it when you're by his side.

[lets-try-some-writing]

I woke up and chose angsty violence on everyone.

What if Optimus survived the events of Predacon Rising? Sometime after everyone left, he crawled up from the Well but was no longer the same person he was. Housing the Allspark inside himself had destroyed his mind than just the Matrix of Leadership and what's left is a very feral bot that looks like Optimus.

No one finds out until reports from refugees come in about a strange Cybertronian running amuck in the wastes that attacks anyone who gets too close. Optimus' former team would absolutely be split on what to do about him. Leave him alone in nature under protection, try to snap him out of it or put their once leader down?

They can't ignore the problem as someone will recognize Optimus at some point.

You. You my good individual are evil. I adore your twisted little mind (affectionate).

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

There were... reports. Quite a few of them in fact.

Each and every one of them claimed that there was a feral mech living out in the wastes, the land that was formerly Iacon's great forest before the war razed it to the ground. No one knew what to think of it, but then they saw the pictures. And those pictures changed everything.

"Ratchet, he can't seriously still be alive? Can he?" Bumblebee's voice was filled with disbelief as Ratchet looked over the image projected on the holodisk. The rest of the table seemed to share Bumblebee's thoughts as they watched. It was a quick series of pictures put on a slideshow. They were grainy, but the blue and red was unmistakable. The exposed Matrix even more so.

"It seems that we were wrong to label Prime as out for the count." Bulkhead added his two shanix, earning him a murmur of agreement from an equally uncertain Wheeljack.

"If he's feral, do you think we can bring back?" Arcee spoke up as well, earning a series of comments from the team. Bumblebee seemed hopeful, as did Smokescreen. Even Ultra Magnus seemed marginally interested in a potential plan to help Optimus if he really was out there.

Ratchet was not so optimistic.

"I will go and assess the situation personally. For all we know, it might not be him. We can't get our hopes up." Standing up, Ratchet collected the holodisk with a purposefully blank expression. The team regarded him with various expression of surprise, but they didn't stop him.

Good. They didn't need to see what was going to come next.

"Ratchet, if it is him, you'll let us know." Ultra Magnus put a servo on his shoulder, a knowing expression plastered all over the Commander's face. Ratchet gave no confirmation, instead tightening his grip on the holodisk as he made his way out.

Ratchet couldn't explain it, but when he saw the photo, he couldn't help the feeling of wrongness that filled his very spark. The team wouldn't understand. They hadn't known Orion. All they saw was their Prime's face. They didn't see the vacancy in his optics or the way he hunched in the picture like he was struggling just to stand. The mech they once knew was not himself. He was hardly alive.

Ratchet refused to let his friend's legacy be destroyed by a cruel twist of fate.

"I'm sorry." He murmured into the early morning light as he gathered his things quietly, taking great care with his most important tool as he began the trip out into the wastes. It was not a long trip, not terribly so at any rate. A few joors into his journey, he found himself wandering the wastes in silence, his optics set on any crevice where the husk of his friend could have possibly been hiding. He didn't bother calling out. It was a useless endeavor.

One joor. Two joors. And then, he found what he was looking for.

"Hello, Orion. Its been a while, hasn't it?" A lanky figure pulled itself out of a small cave. Cycled down optics met his, curiosity registering somewhere in their empty stare. Ratchet didn't dare move as the husk pulled itself out of its hiding place, its helm tilted ever so slightly in confusion, or perhaps interest.

"I had hoped that you'd made it out alright. But I don't think that's the case." His words were faint as the husk finally stood. It was thin, gangly from what was likely months of less than sufficient energon. Its armor was cracked and broken, the jetpack that Optimus had once enjoyed now all but ripped off. The husk's face was covered in gashes and marks, the rest of its frame not much better. It looked... pitiful. But above all else, the shining Matrix in its chassis made Ratchet frown.

"No normal mech should be able to survive these wounds." He practically whispered as he took a step forward, holding out a servo in a friendly manner. The husk froze, almost looking ready to scuttle back into its hiding place. But Ratchet remained firm, standing still and speaking quietly.

"That thing... it won't let you die, will it?" He received no verbal answer, but the glowing white of the husk's optics told him everything he needed to know.

White was the color of divinity, but also of sickness. A mech with white optics was said to be doomed to die. Ratchet was not normally a mech to care about superstitions. But that one... he could get behind.

"It must hurt." He couldn't disguise the faint shakiness of his voice as the husk finally inched closer, looming over Ratchet with height that had once been comforting. The husk's optics cycled down and then went wide. A wide and almost sparkling like smile spread across its face as it dropped to all fours, crawling nearer on just about Ratchet's level.

It hesitated a moment, and then pressed its face up against Ratchet's servo like a hound would. Ratchet almost winced, but seeing the husk's genuine affection, he couldn't bring himself to do anything more than sigh and run his free servo along the crest of its helm. So similar to his Prime, and yet so very different.

"The others want to bring you home. They want to fix you." The husk's engine rumbled in delight, pleased as Ratchet caressed broken finials with light touches. The husk looked so very happy as it came closer, seating itself at Ratchet's pedes to lean into every place his digits touched. So unlike Optimus. This thing was a mere echo, a sad and painful echo.

"I don't think you want to be fixed, if that is even possible." His venting hitched as he cupped the husk's face, sensing the animalistic instinct in it. The husk didn't fight back as Ratchet pressed the crest of his helm to the husk's, enjoying the momentary interaction.

"I wanted to hope... I wanted to think that maybe you'd evaded death yet again." He could feel coolant threatening to gather in his optics as he quietly reached to his satchel, pulling out an injector. The yellow liquid within glowed faintly in the dying light of the evening, but Ratchet paid it little mind as he memorized the faint sounds of the husk's engine and the giddy smile upon its face. It hadn't even noticed Ratchet's tool.

"I prayed for your return. But I think that may have been a mistake." Blazing white optics gazed up at him, innocent and yet vacant. It hurt more than it should have.

Why? Why did it have to look so alive and yet so dead?

"Perhaps it would have been kinder if death had finally taken you." Pressing a kiss to the husk's helm crest, Ratchet enjoyed the warmth of a living, venting mech for a moment longer. His spark spun in agony, but now was not the time to stop. This... this was a mercy.

"Rest Orion. Return to Codexa, to Alpha Trion. Go to those who love you... and know that one cycle I will join you there." In one swift motion, Ratchet dug the injector into the husk's neck. Its optics blew wide, its vocalizer spitting static as it stared up at him in sheer terror.

"Shh... it's alright. It will be over soon." The husk went limp, falling into Ratchet's arms. He knelt quietly, letting it rest against his chassis as its frame began to seize. The Matrix flared, sending shocks through the husk to try and keep it active. The husk wailed in response, its shattered vocalizer producing pained cries that could have caused the dead to quake. Ratchet held firm, keeping the husk held against him as the Matrix's shocks ran their course, eventually ceasing.

"I'll tell the others you were dead upon my arrival. Don't worry. They won't see you like this... I promise." The husk spasmed a moment longer, its optics momentarily returning to a bright and healthy blue. For a half klik, Ratchet could have sworn he saw understanding in those optics.

And gratitude.

"I'm sorry, Old Friend." The term of endearment slipped past his derma before he could stop it. In response, Optimus smiled and then fell still, his optics going dark and his frame losing all life.

Ratchet held what remained of his oldest friend for a long while, not speaking or moving.

It was done.

Now Optimus could rest.

[nahoney22]

🌺 Orchids Tech 🌺

Medical Flora

X Female Reader

word count: 1.2k

🌸 💐 Flower Fic Event 💐 🌸

My second fic for the clone flower event 🌸 read my Commander Fox one here 🌺 Check the tag #cloneflowerficevent to see more! 💐

warnings: None, fluff, mutual pining, friends to lovers 🌸💜

Other writers for this event include (will add links to each ficlet once writer has posted):

🌸 Myself - Tech | Fox

🌸 @jedi-hawkins - Kix | Echo | Crosshair

🌸 @moonstrider9904 - Howzer

🌸 @photogirl894 - Hunter | Wrecker | Fives

🌸 @eyecandyeoz - Waxer

🌸 @arctrooper69 🎂- Tup | Rex | Gregor

🌸 @l-lend - Wolffe

🌸 @dragonrider9905 - Hardcase

🌸 @totallyunidentified - 99 | Cody

“I appreciate you coming with me, by the way, Tech. Herbalism isn’t for everyone.” You chuckle as you bend down to inspect some nearby plants, using a scanner to check their properties.

After some members of your group had fallen ill, you asked Tech, quite reluctantly, to accompany you in finding a remedy. With credits scarce, medicine wasn't readily available to any of you.

“I do believe our best choice is to go to Felucia and seek out some Nysillin,” he says, looking around as he follows you. “But you are welcome.”

“We don’t have the time to go all the way to Felucia,” you sigh. While you partly agreed with him, it would take at least three rotations to get there from your current location, and none of you knew if the illness would spread or worsen in the meantime.

You stand up, and the two of you continue walking through the dense foliage, the air humid and slightly sticky. “If you see any flowers, point them out to me.”

Tech adjusts his goggles, scanning the area meticulously. “Understood. Though I must point out that identifying medicinal plants without a proper botanical reference could be inefficient.”

“I know, but we have to try something,” you reply, keeping an eye out for any potential remedies.

Your reluctance to Tech coming with you was simply from a place of feeling, precisely, your feelings for him. He made you both nervous and giddy but you knew nothing would ever come from it. So, instead you just relished in the time alone with him.

A few minutes later, Tech halts, his attention fixed on a cluster of vibrant orchids nestled among the greenery. “There,” he points, “those orchids might have some medicinal properties.”

You walk over to the orchids, marveling at their beauty. “Good eye, Tech. These could be promising.” You carefully gather a few specimens, making sure not to damage the stems and petals. Tech goes ahead and takes your scanner, beginning to analyse their chemical composition.

You crouch down beside him, looking at the scanner, curiosity piqued. “Can you tell me anything about them?”

“It states here that orchids have been known to possess a variety of medicinal compounds. With any luck, these might help mitigate the symptoms the others are experiencing,” he explains. Truthfully, some of his words go in one ear and out the other because you can't help but quietly admire him.

He turns his gaze to you, his eyes curious. “Do you believe these orchids will suffice?”

You snap out of your reverie, clearing your throat and looking down at the pile of scattered petals. “O-Oh, of course,” you say swiftly, helping Tech gather some into his backpack carefully.

You look back at the orchids, the soft mix of pink and purple flowers filling your senses. “These are so beautiful. Seems a shame to pick them.”

Tech looks at the flower and thinks for a moment. “I suppose they are nice on the eyes, yes.”

The next few moments feel like a dream as you watch Tech pluck a small strand from the bush. Your skin grows warm as he takes a hold of your chin with his thumb and index finger, turning your head towards him. Breath catching in your throat, you watch as he brushes your hair behind your ear and tucks an orchid into it. “I hope this will suffice,” he says softly.

You blink at him, taken aback. Where had that come from? Had he hit his head? Your silence lingers, and Tech suddenly realises his gesture was nothing short of flirtatious. “We,” his voice squeaks adorably, and he quickly clears his throat, “we should head back to the ship.”

You nod, still processing what just happened. “Yes, of course.”

As you walk back to the ship, the orchid in your hair has you recalling back to Tech did. His gentle words, his lingering touch on your skin… it was lovely. Tech walks beside you this time rather than behind, his usual composed demeanor slightly rattled, and you can’t help but smile at the thought of the brilliant, logical man having a tender, spontaneous side. Just for you.

You steal a glance at Tech, and your eyes lock. He looks slightly flustered, the tips of his ears turning a deep shade of red. As the Marauder comes into sight, you decide to take a gamble and stop. “Tech?”

He stops too, looking at you with curiosity. “Yes?”

“Thank you for coming with me. I know I already said that before, but I really appreciate your help.” Your voice is soft, and your fingers fidget nervously behind your back. “And for the flower in my hair… it was sweet of you.”

Tech smiles, taking a step closer. “You asked for my help, and I gave it. There is nothing to thank me for,” he says. His eyes flicker to the orchid in your hair and then back to you. “I apologize if this is forward, but I have always secretly favoured orchids. Both for their medicinal properties and, as you said before, they are beautiful and…” He trails off, his fingers flexing as he takes a deep breath, “and so are you.”

Your heart feels like it might burst from your chest, and your eyes glisten with unshed tears at his sweet words. Does this mean he likes you back? The possibility makes your heart race. But it could just be Tech being straightforward, yet you had never seen or heard him act this way with anyone else.

“Really?” you ask, the question sounding silly instead of just thanking him.

“Yes.”

You realize that you both have stepped closer to each other, your chests almost touching as he gazes down at you with gentle eyes. His gaze flickers from your eyes to your lips, but he’s nervous, and truthfully, so are you. Tech isn’t easy to read sometimes, making it hard to decide if he wants to kiss you or not.

You can feel his ragged breath on your face, his posture straight and stiff. So, you take the lead, standing on your toes and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. You let it linger, smirking as you feel him take a sharp inhale of breath.

When you pull back, you gauge his reaction. He’s bewildered and quite in awe. Eventually, he breaks out into a grin, and reading the situation correctly, he places a hand on your cheek and slowly leans in. His nose brushes against yours, and his lips are about to meet yours until…

“Are you two back?” A voice calls from the ship, and you both jolt back, alarmed. You look to see Wrecker coming into view, rubbing his tired eyes. “Any luck?”

A wave of relief washes over you both, thankful that the intimate moment wasn’t fully interrupted, but both a little disappointed it didn’t happen. Tech gives you an apologetic look before following Wrecker, who retreats back inside.

That afternoon, you make a remedy with the orchids and hand cups to each of the batch, making sure they drink it all and monitoring their progress through the rest of the day. By the fourth hour, they are looking better than before, and you feel immense relief.

You and Tech don’t have time to speak about what happened that day, but when he is asleep in his bunk, you notice you still have some leftover petals. So, with a small thought, you retrieve his helmet and begin placing the flowers along the edges of the visor, scattering them along the top.

The next morning, your heart swells and you realise you’re completely smitten with him as you see Tech wearing his helmet, the cute still flowers adorning it. He doesn’t seem to mind them at all.

Tags: @littlefeatherr @Kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @Jesseeka

@theroguesully @ladykatakuri @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone

@ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog

@pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora

@ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani

@tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi

@greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur r @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420

@ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater r @sithstrings @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @the-bad-batch-baroness @lulalovez @thiswitchloves9904

[verysium]

PLEASE DO BLUE LOCK ICKS IM BEGGING🙏😭🌹

😏 coming right up anon. gonna channel my inner critic and not hold back on any of these.

RIN

brother complex. not much else to say except that he needs to get a life. not everything is about metaphorically crushing your older brother's dreams and brooding in the dark hate of retribution.

competitive but only because he is a desperate whore for external validation. ignores everyone but craves the attention of a sole person named sae itoshi. was defeated by isagi once and has never let go of it since. has a one-track mind that is impossible to derail. stubborn when he wants to be.

probably a virgin and will continue to be one until his late 30s.

has not known a single day of peace ever since sae ditched him for the popular girlies. as a result, he has developed a very concerning case of social awkwardness. his idea of a conversation involves a brick wall and thirty minutes of you staring at his resting bitch face. constantly looks like that one grumpy cat meme. judges you for your poor decisions but then gets aggressively defensive when you point out his own mistakes.

reeks of so much teen angst that even metallica can't save him. the problem is that he has nothing to back up his emo persona. his insults lack creativity and, unfortunately for him, phrases like "lukewarm" and "half-baked" and "hell" do not make his words carry more weight. uses the f-word but in the most embarrassing context that it makes you facepalm and internally cringe.

SAE

zero social awareness. this boy's head is empty. the lights are not on up there. there are no picture frames or furniture. the curtains are drawn, and there is not a sliver of clouds or sunshine. cannot read body language and does not know what a filter is.

the source of all of rin's stress. he is the original trauma projector, creator of generational cycles. not even subtle about it. "turns out i was wrong. i thought japan was incapable of ever giving birth to decent forwards." sir....with the way you worded that, you knew exactly what you were doing when you gave rin false hope.

swears but it's even worse than his brother. literally called his elders a "fatso and bob cut duo" and "insect turd." i mean....there is a line between what is considered a legitimate burn and what is a first grader making up insults in his coloring book.

has a horrible haircut and no fashion taste. i already talked about this previously, but it was so bad it deserved a second mention.

a freak but tries to justify it rationally. like what do you mean you can tell a person's athletic ability from their buttock size? just admit you have a kinky fetish already.

somewhat of a coward but i'm gonna give him some leniency due to his tragic child genius backstory. tbh he's just an eighteen-year-old boy who needs a goddamn break.

KAISER

alexa please play clown music. this man sets himself for failure and then wallows in self-pity when he actually fails. like what did you expect? you knew what was going to happen the moment you challenged isagi like that. it was most definitely your fault you got violently humbled.

has a borderline god complex (currently calls himself an emperor but has not evolved into a deity yet.) unfortunately, he does not stand on business. cue the dramatic meltdowns when he realizes there is an actual gap between his ability and his reputation. if you're going to lie, at least make it believable.

insecure and mentally unstable. he probably cuts and re-dyes his hair every single time shit happens. no wonder his locks get shorter every time.

lazy when it comes to anything that is not football and expects others to do it for him. demands princess treatment wherever he goes. unfortunately, not all of us have servants with no self-respect like ness.

"it is not enough that i should succeed, others should fail" type of person.

does not wear shoes and even if he does, it's sandals. put them grippers away.

NAGI

a literal sloth who has so much potential but uses none of it. has no intrinsic motivation of his own, so if he's going to do anything, it has to be you behind the wheel, making sure he gets put to work.

does not have a close relationship with his parents, and so he has no sense of community, holidays, or traditions. no fun at all if you want him to do things like christmas shopping or birthday celebrations.

rots in bed all day and then has to nerve to ask you to carry him around. your back better be strong because his 190 cm body is not going to be light.

not loyal (need i say more.)

REO

second male lead syndrome. also known as that one popular guy who's always picked last.

acts like a victim but then when you realistically tell him to how to change his situation he refuses to do so. you cannot ask for advice and then take none of it to heart. no wonder you're still not over your ex.

"i can fix him" mentality. no, you can't. you are a seventeen-year-old child, not a licensed therapist and nagi isn't even all that.

NESS

touch-starved to the point he will stay in a toxic and abusive relationship in order to gain some scrap of affection. just because you were the black sheep of your family does not mean you can lose all sense of personal dignity.

probably stalks all the people he hates. has a burn book like regina george from mean girls. cuts out and glues little pictures of kaiser all over his bedroom. doodles hearts all over it with glittery gel pen. isagi's face and name are scratched out of every team photo.

delusional and prone to mood swings. medicated but at this point, he is beyond saving.

ISAGI

a home wrecker. has ruined more relationships than he can count on ten fingers yet still manages to smile like he's some angelic saint.

solves jigsaw puzzles for a living (not very cool if you ask me.)

has some unresolved anger management issues. probably repressed all his negative feelings when he was younger, so it all comes out when he's on the field. unfortunately, his twilight-sparkle-friendship-is-magic agenda is not going to work if he keeps cussing out his teammates like that. but then again, he is the main character, so i guess his plot armor makes up for his pitfalls.

says that he's a good guy but then holds personal vendettas against rivals he doesn't like. boy was so ready to throw hands when #kaisagi was trending on the internet. but when you actually think about, he's similar to kaiser in more ways than he'd like to admit.

BAROU

has the worst case of high and mighty "holier-than-thou" attitude. isagi put his ego in check, but it still peeks out from time to time.

he was the ugliest baby when he was born. i am not going to hold back on the child barou slander because it is true. no, he was not a cute and lovable bundle of joy. he looked like a demonic gremlin.

he needs to take more risks in life and try cross-dressing. simply imagining him in a maid uniform will not suffice. it needs to be made into a reality.

with how nit-picky he is, i doubt people can realistically stay within a 1-meter radius around him. unless you are a clean freak yourself, his constant complaints will start to get annoying after a time. even if he does have good intentions, he needs to let people have a little breathing room sometimes. a messy room is not going to kill you.

BACHIRA

this boy's brain is smooth. no folds. no gray matter. no intelligence either. his pencil and eraser have been left untouched since day one. if he wasn't crazily good at football, he would be unemployed and homeless in the future. not even a mcdonald's wants him.

one of those people who will do the literal opposite of whatever you say. you want him to stop talking? well, now he's never going to shut up. you tell him not to step on a pile of dog shit? well, now he's going to walk right into it. you want him to quit running around and act normal? well, now it's his life's mission to make you as annoyed as possible. please pray for your hair follicles because at the end of the day, you're not going to have many left with how much he makes you want to tear your hair out.

has the cerebral capacity of a toddler. if he thinks monsters are real, he's going to think anything is real. super gullible when it comes to any form of scam, ploy, or trickery. the only way he would not be fooled is if he's also played the same prank before.

SHIDOU

a brazen pervert. says the most out-of-pocket things and refuses to apologize for them. sometimes it comes out a little too sleazy for your liking.

"to me a goal is fertilization! a shot is the seed and the goal is the egg!! and the birth of that joy i call an explosion!! my genes are gonna knock you up!" let us give ourselves a moment of silence to digest this quote. only shidou ryusei would come up with a sperm and egg metaphor to describe football. (i guess protection means nothing to him.)

has no empathy. if you dislike him or cannot keep up with him, you're a literal nobody in his books. no sportsmanship. no compassion. no self-awareness.

you cannot say "balls" to him in a serious tone without him misinterpreting it as something dirty. that alone should tell you enough. stay the hell away from him.

where do men get the audacity? right here. from this little bastard. he invented the term "shameless slut." boy was getting off during the u-20 arc and on live TV too. no wonder sae said he was disgusting.

and finally, he comes from a long line of cockroaches. he's even got the antennae to prove it.

i think this might have been a little excessive, but i have no regrets about it. you're welcome anon ♡

[delopsia]

if heaven's a moment | Rhett Abbott x Reader

Word Count: 16,000 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader, alpha! Rhett, omega! Reader. Size kink, forbidden love (ft. a weak excuse for the forbidden part. we're here for ✨vibes��, not logic), food, running away, biting, mating cycles/heat, ruts, mentions of breeding (but no implication of children/anything of that nature), first times together, knotting, the worst epilogue known to man. Brief Summary: At one point, you suppose that you did. Marrying rich sounded like a wonderful idea when the subject was brought up ten years ago. But you just had to run right into the Abbott family's youngest son, the one who had nothing but a black horse, a couple of flannels, and a championship rodeo buckle to his name. A new ranch hand, with his scruffy smile and the kindest hands you've ever known. 

There are too many cars in this damn driveway. 

Scratch that, too many fucking alphas. With their bright, gaudy outfits and stupid, overapplied pheromone colognes that do nothing but give you a chemical-induced migraine. If those claims about luring in potential mates are true, then you must be an outlier because you've yet to find yourself head over heels for a man based on his scent alone. 

A warmth greets your nose; something tied between leather and the embers of a roaring campfire, a hint of smokiness lurking underneath it all. Just a hint of it at first, swirling around your head like a daydream and weakening your knees, growing stronger with every step toward this old barn. 

...on second thought.

The barn door opens with a groan, cutting through the silence and echoing up toward the house. Your eyes dart toward the back porch, still flocked full of mingling bodies in their finest courting attire, chatting it up like they haven't had an intriguing conversation in years. Whether or not someone heard that is anyone's guess, but nobody is interested enough to look in your direction.

Thank god because you don't have a single explanation for why you're slipping into the storage barn at ten o'clock at night. 

It's too dark to see where you're going, but you've walked this path so many times that you can do it with your eyes closed. Drifting around the corner. Past the four-wheeler that hasn't run since last autumn. Through the clearing that will soon be cluttered with seasonal equipment once the hands finish tearing out the brush that has taken over the south pasture. They'll promise it's gone for good, but it'll be sprouting again come spring, and the cycle will repeat, just as it always has. 

Clink.

Clink.

Clink.

The room spins. A weight appears on your back, forcing you face down into a bale of hay. The straw prickles your cheek, but it's nothing compared to the sandpaper texture that scratches the back of your neck. The coarse stubble of someone's recently shaven face.  

A cold nose brushes against your nape. 

"Hey!" You squeal, foot blindly kicking at a jean-clad leg, but he just does it again, blissfully unaware of the goose bumps rushing across your skin.

Arms curl around your waist. "What's the matter, sweet thing?" Muttered into your ear, as if there's a risk of someone overhearing.

"Your nose is cold!" And you've got just enough leverage to turn your head to the side, nipping at his jaw. Softly tugging at his skin with your teeth, ticklish little motions that have Rhett laughing, shifting to stand up straight, as if that has ever helped him escape your reign of terror. 

"'m sorry," that nose bumps into your forehead, clumsy, "I only finished up a little bit ago."

Even in the dark, you can tell that he's still clad in those leather chaps, dirty from a long day in the fields and on the back of his horse. This close, they'll surely leave behind a noticeable grime on your white clothes, but you can't bring yourself to care. This is worth the stress of getting your clothes into the washer before anyone can see the stains.

It only takes the slightest nudge for him to reel back, allowing you to stand straight and twist in his embrace. Pale moonlight peeks through the holes in the roof, bathing the right side of his face. Unveiling the smile that upturns the corners of his eyes and the fading cut in his bottom lip, split open in a bar fight this past Sunday.

"They're working you that hard?" Tilting your head to the side, curious. Peak season isn't for another three weeks. What gives? 

"Only on party nights," Rhett chuckles, and he's just close enough for you to feel it rumbling in his chest like thunder. "How else are your folks supposed to tell them rich fellas that y' come from a good ranchin' family?"

Your brows furrow. "I didn't know that I came with a dowry."

It's easy. Laughing with him and falling into his big, warm chest, wrapped up in those arms that ought to have been chiseled from stone for you and you alone. The scruff of his cheek scratches your skin as he snuggles you impossibly closer. Your nose bumping into his neck, just below the scent gland lurking there.

The voice in the back of your head wonders if you'll ever get to enjoy the privilege of him scenting you. Dipping his head down to rub the barely visible glands against you, not stopping until you smell just like him. The closest one can get to saying 'mine' without tattooing it in red across someone's forehead.

"So which of them alphas ya pickin'?" There's that solemn tone again, low and heavy as if the words are too much for his tongue to lift.

And you know that you shouldn't say this; it's only going to make this harder than it needs to be, but it slips out of you, anyway. "The one that's standing in front of me."

There's a sourness in the air. Barely there, but you're so close that it's impossible not to catch the switch, chased by the falter of a smile. 

Oh, why does he have to look at you that way? Deep-set frown and lowered eyes, can hardly bring himself to meet your gaze, as if this will all fall apart the moment that he does. But you're still here, even if it's for a fixed amount of time. You can't have him forever, but you can until your heat decides to set in, whenever that may be. 

"We'd have to flee the state even for a chance of that workin'," he's talking under his breath like it's a thought he didn't intend to make it past his mouth. But you hear it loud and clear. 

 "Maybe..." Feigning playfulness, if only to ignore the sour twist of your belly. "But if you ever decide that you'd like to start running, you know where to find me." 

If only it worked like that. You'd love to live a life so simple that he could run up to your window and steal you away on a random midnight. Off to live your own happily ever after, never to be seen again. 

Rhett tilts his head forward, then off to the side, those pretty blue eyes never quite leaving yours. 

It's like knowing that you're allergic to something and biting into it anyway, but you just can't help it. There are only so many times that you'll get to do this, and the number is shrinking by the minute. Nuzzling the side of your head against his neck and lower jaw, dancing painfully close to the glands on his neck, a faint sheen the only thing to indicate their presence. Rhett's so big that you could spend all day rubbing yourself against him like a cat, always able to find a spot on him that isn't drowning in the warm scent that you call your own. 

Out of nowhere, a sharp puff of air bursts out of him. Some little animalistic noise that you only ever hear when you're doing this, his nose nuzzling your temple as he makes that noise again. The arms around you pull a little tighter as if there was any space left between your bodies to begin with. 

A truck engine roars to life. Obnoxious. 

Rhett jolts, his head spinning toward the door you came through, stiff like some kind of well-trained guard dog. In a sense, you suppose that's exactly what he is, considering all of those bar fights with unruly alphas who could only see you as an easy piece of meat. 

"Sounds like some of 'em are gettin' ready to leave," he concludes after a moment, and he doesn't need to speak for you to know what he intends to say next. He's got to take you back to the house before someone notices you're missing. 

You can't help the whine that rolls out of you, pitchy and drawn out. This whole situation is so unfair; you just got here a few minutes ago! Why do you have to go back inside and parade yourself to men and women that you couldn't give a damn about? All because you were unfortunate enough to be born as some dumb omega. 

"Naw, don't get all sad on me," Rhett mutters, and you're not entirely sure when he moved, but one of his hands has risen to curl around your cheek, coarse thumb stroking the skin there. "I'll come to your window, a'ight?"

"Rhett!" Your leg twitches, kicking against his side. Pulling hard on his hair, thighs involuntarily fluttering around his head. It's the most you can do with this pillow wedged beneath the small of your back. Open and on display for him and his hungry mouth.

"Shhh," but he can hardly deny himself the simple pleasure of pausing to drag his tongue in a loose circle just to feel you squirm. "Don't want us gettin' caught, do ya darlin'?"

Whining, your head thrashes back and forth. There's a 'no' on the tip of your tongue, but you just can't get it out—two little letters trapped in your wide open mouth. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he's forcing your legs up over his shoulders, oversized hands spanning out against the outside of your thighs, keeping you put.

"Won't be able to eat this sweet little pussy if your folks find out," Rhett just can't quit talking. Babbling as if he's completely and utterly lost himself in this, in you. "Fuck, can y' imagine the look on their faces?"

You're not sure if it's the words themselves or the vibration of his voice against your clit, but something about it has a bolt of lightning jumping up your spine. Rattling a whine out of your throat, hardly stifled by the teeth that sink into your bottom lip, your futile attempt at keeping yourself quiet. 

"Comin' in and seein' a ranch hand between your legs, runnin' my tongue up your pussy jus' like..." and he draws just far back enough for you to see the way his tongue pokes out of his mouth as he begins to lick a fat stripe up your cunt. "This."

And your back is rising up off the bed, greedily chasing the burning heat of his mouth, as if even a second of no contact might break you into two. The beat of your heart spurred on by the sloppy, wet noises that punctuate his every movement. Half of it isn't even from you; no, it's from him drooling into you like a goddamn dog. 

There's so much of it, running down your thighs and into your sheets, sure to leave a spot that you'll struggle to make an excuse for. It's a problem that you should fuss at him over, chide him for making such a mess, but he's guiding a hand between your legs, two thick fingers nudging at your entrance, and you just can't bring yourself to say anything. 

It's impossible to be upset when he's got you so wet that you don't need to pause for lube, gliding into you with dazzling ease. So, so much bigger than your own touch, such a sudden stretch that you catch the hint of an ache as they bottom out. More. You haven't even gotten used to this yet, and yet you want more. 

Abrupt, Rhett's pointed tongue dances around your clit, fingers crooking upward, seeking a special little spot. "Can't market ya as an innocent little omega if they know a man like me 's been eatin' your pussy for years."

If only he knew how often you think about that. 

The memories that flood your mind every time you've been put in a fancy restaurant to be wined and dined by some well-dressed know-it-all, intrigued by the false purity he saw in your eyes. How it's not the small talk that has you fiddling with your fork, but instead caused by the crystal clear image of a cowboy who had gotten on his knees for you earlier that morning, eating you alive, much like how he is now. 

And the perpetual, hopeless fantasy of that same cowboy barging in and taking you for his own, fed up with this sick game you've been forced to play together. All because you were born an omega, so rare that the wealthy have begun to see you as a status symbol. 

Sparkles dance in your vision, glittering like fireworks. Course fingertips spiral into a little cluster of nerves, in perfect sync with the tongue still working around your clit. The invisible flames of a wildfire ignite, heat coiling between your parted thighs and flushing up your chest. Fuck, fuck, and the room is spinning around you, hands tightening in Rhett's hair as if there's a risk of being blown away. 

"Rhett, I'm—"

"God, y' taste so fuckin' good," mindlessly babbling, but those eyes are peeling open, the corners of them wrinkling with a cocky grin. "Y' gonna cum?"

"Uhuh," frantically nodding, the best that you can without looking away from him and this. The sight of him between your shivering thighs, legs propped over his broad shoulders, fits so perfectly that your heart skips a beat. That coil is winding tighter and tighter in your lower belly, body stiffening as his tongue keeps working you over, loud and sloppy and out of sync with the fingers working inside of you. 

His chuckle has your foot kicking against his back, a barely muffled whimper slipping out of your throat. "Come on then," a third finger abruptly joins, mouth sucking harshly on your clit. Lightning jumps up your spine, arching up off the pillow. "Give it to me, sweet thing."

And that's all it takes to have you clamping a trembling hand over your mouth, cumming without further warning. Crying out into your palm as your vision goes white, heart racing in your chest, spinning out of control. Feels as if you've been thrust into the clouds, soaring among them for a few fleeting moments.

The hand remaining on your thigh is what draws you back down into reality. 

Or maybe it's the sudden discomfort of emptiness as Rhett draws his drenched fingers out of your cunt, sitting up on his haunches, obscenely shiny chin catching in the light. The pillow pulls out from beneath your hips, and it's not until you feel the rush of relief that you realize there was a strain in your lower back.

The corner of Rhett's mouth lifts, the mattress dipping as he climbs up next to you. "Reckon I wore ya out." Those jeans still unfairly cling to his hips, a little too dirty to be allowed in your bed, but you don't have the luxury or the will to complain.

Certainly not when he's settling down, an arm draping across your belly, very nearly distracting you from the scent in the air. His usual leathery scent, mixed with something a little bit sweet, a little bit warm, and entirely you. 

"For now," you croak after a moment. The simple motion of shifting to lay on your side has the room rolling again, like some kind of fucked up hamster ball. 

On its own selfish volition, your hand begins to wander. Gliding up Rhett's naked chest, feeling the groove of muscle and roaming over the old tattoo lurking just below his right collarbone. It's almost strange to think of how it was brand new when you first met him, so fresh that he'd yelped when you ran straight into each other.

You shouldn't allow it, but you can't resist wandering down his belly, exploring the soft muscles of his belly, only stopped by the elastic waistband peeking out from below his pants. It's impossible to miss the bulge tenting his jeans, such a sight that it almost makes his obnoxiously large belt buckle look averagely sized.

You wish you were as familiar with his body as he is yours.

"It ain't that I don't want ya too," Rhett must be able to read minds because he's already jumping onto your train of thought, "'m still worried I might..."

Lose control. You know. This conversation seems to arise every time you have a little fun together. The dangers of an alpha who gets too carried away and leaves behind too much evidence of your private rendezvous. 

"What if that's what I want?" You say it so firmly. Confident. 

You want him and everything that comes with him. The Abbott name, the not-so-glamourous life of being mated or even married to a man like him. Hell, you want the dirt that tracks in on his boots, the stench of sweat that clings to him after a long day at work, and the horse he's dragged to three different ranches so far. No other mare will do. Only his. 

"'s what I want, too," his hand curls around yours, delicately guiding it up to his chest, where he can crane his head down and kiss your knuckles. "Shame everyone would be able to smell me on ya. Think I'd kill to be there when they realize their special little omega got mounted by some grimy ol' cowboy."

"You're not grimy," it's only after you say it that the memories come flooding in. Dirt clinging to his jaw and neck, all the times he hasn't been able to finger you due to some crude, black substance clinging to his nails. That one time, when he came back covered in a thin layer of mud, muttering something about heifers and tagging a damn calf. "...most of the time." 

If it's not the moaning that's going to get you caught, surely it'll be the fit of giggles that squeeze out of the cracks in the door frame.

The roar of a rodeo crowd never fails to remind you of why Rhett does this. Feet stomping on the metal flooring of the bleachers. Hands clapping in a thundering applause. Unafraid to shout and jeer as the numbers on the scoreboard count up.

Four seconds. The bull's head twists to the left. Back legs kicking high into the air. A plume of dirt kicks up.

Five seconds. Rhett's right hand bobs in the air. Torn between the sheer will to keep up for the judges and the overwhelming instinct to use it to steady himself. 

Six. Your breath fogs in front of your face. Shouting Rhett's name. As if doing so could possibly help him hold on. 

Seven. The scream of the crowd is rising now. Booming voices and cowbells so loud that you can no longer hear the beat of your heart in your ears. 

Eight. The buzzer sounds. Artificial flames burst from above the chutes. 

You blink, and he's off the bull. The bullfighters are scurrying like ants. Rhett's scooping his hat up off the ground. Spinning around to face the scoreboard just as the rankings make their switch. You think the crowd may have preemptively exploded into celebration because they're cheering and hollering before you've even realized what the screen says.

1. Rhett Abbott 89.5

You've got to read it twice before you finally understand what that means. He's moving on to the finals next week.

And lord, does he know it. 

Fist pounding against his vest so hard that his hair shakes with every strike, jolted by his own strength. Mouth open. Shouting something that doesn't make it past the arena fences, his wide eyes scanning the bleachers, slowly drifting until they seem to lock with yours.

It's impossible; he's so far away that you can hardly see his features. But he's looking at you, and he's grinning, waving a big hand toward a building lurking just behind the chutes. You've only been to these particular rodeo grounds once, but you've seen that gesture enough times to know what he's asking and that you don't have to head over there right now. 

You won't see him until after he's had his five-minute shower. When he's had time to scrub the adrenaline out of his system and doesn't run the risk of knocking you off your feet by scent alone. 

Do you still regret letting him know that he almost sent you into heat once? Yes. 

A lot.

Though it can't be all that bad. Not when you and your newly acquired chili cheese fries have the pleasure of stumbling across a hell of a scene. Wet, unruly curls and a thin white t-shirt that's ever so slightly too small, clinging to every muscle and curve of his chest, biceps bulging from beneath the restrictive fabric. You can see his tattoo right through it, that bucking bull as prominent as ever.

A pair of green eyes squint back at you, attached to wavy blonde curls and glimmering lip gloss. She's not the only one batting her long lashes at Rhett and twisting her hair between her delicately manicured fingertips; there's a brunette giggling along next to her. A barrel racer done up in purple plaid to your left, another girl in glasses wearing a rodeo hoodie, and those are just the ones that you've noticed. 

All of you are so different in nature, and yet, you have the same end goal: Rhett Abbott.

He'll come when he realizes you're here; you know he will, but hell if this influx of attention doesn't make your stomach twist. Technically, Rhett isn't yours. He can pick any one of these starry-eyed onlookers and never be happier. At least they'll never hold him to the constant strain of being with an omega.

 Something plops atop your head, so big that it falls into your eyes. 

"Whatcha starin' at?" There's that familiar voice that you've become so accustomed to, rumbling from somewhere behind your right shoulder. A familiar scent greets your senses: warm, twisted with the woodsy aroma of body wash, and...something else. A faint musk that makes your nose feel funny.

With the back of your hand, you push his hat up, peering at him from beneath the rim, "I was thinking."

Rhett's head tilts to the side. "'bout?" 

Something tells you that you weren't supposed to see the swift flicker of his gaze. Down to the forgotten snack in your hands, then back up to your face as if nothing ever happened. His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip. 

"How I'm gonna explain where I've been all night," it's the weakest lie told this century, but you're covering up for it by lifting your container of fries. "Want some?" 

If he catches on to the waver in your voice, then he doesn't mention it, too busy fighting off the little grin working its way onto his handsome face, still clinging to that stoic alpha demeanor that you both know he doesn't have. 

One of these days, he'll figure out that his fluttering eyelashes are giving away his true emotions, almost excited to reach and take two of your fries. Cheese drips as he lifts them, so artificial that it hardly even counts as dairy, the perfect match to those greasy gas station snacks that he's been serenading you with. 

"Y' weren't out here waitin' too long, were ya?" Talking in between bites, sauce clinging to his lips like an absurd gloss. 

Your head shakes, cowboy hat jostling back and forth with the motion. "Only about a minute or two." 

A pair of sour faces twist your way, surveying the competition. If there even is one. Rhett doesn't so much as spare them a glance. Preoccupied with you lifting his beloved hat off your head and pressing his cheesy lips to your temple like this is some kind of normal thing between you two. 

"Hey!" You squeal, but Rhett's already on the move, dodging your light-hearted swat and shoving a stolen fry into his mouth. 

He'd ought to consider himself lucky that he's got those big, blue eyes to get himself out of trouble. With that big laugh that bounces around your head for far longer than it should, enough to make you a little bit dizzy.

"I thought you were worried about..." pausing to swipe at the residue with the back of your hand, wiping away his sloppy kiss, "you know, people seeing?"

Your people seeing. Or hearing. Or even catching the slightest whiff that you're entertaining the very idea of someone who wasn't at last night's party.

But Rhett just shakes his head, that stupid smile prominent as ever. "Ain't no-one to recognize us out here." 

...huh.

"So you're not worried if I..." Taking one step forward. Then another, until you're nose to nose, so close that you can almost taste the mint of his toothpaste. "Do this?"

His forehead thunks against yours. "Not one bit." 

Kissing Rhett Abbott has always been a dream, but kissing him in public is another whirlwind entirely. The rose-tinted novelty of cementing who he belongs to, whose arms you're meant to fit into, and all of those shallow things that onlookers really couldn't give a damn about. They don't care about the strong arms that wind around your waist, the palm that flattens against the curve of your spine. How difficult it is to blindly hold your fries off to the side, trying your best not to crush them between your bodies. 

As quickly as he'd leaned in, Rhett draws away, nose wrinkled. 

"What?" Is there something on your breath? Melted cheese somewhere on your face?

But he just shakes his head, leaning in for another kiss. "Nothin'."

It must have been something in the wind because he doesn't make another mention of it again. His nose doesn't even twitch when you drift past the food trucks, all lined up in the front section of the parking lot, with their fried snacks, greasy meals, and sugar-filled treats that ought to make anyone drool. 

You've only just finished your fries, but you've already caught sight of another truck, white in color, selling something that you don't know the name of but smells like heaven itself. There's no reason for your stomach to be growling, but it sings its little tune regardless of all the things you've snacked on this afternoon. Shame that you left your wallet in the truck and spent the last of your cash on those fries. 

Why are you so hungry today?

"See somethin' ya want?" Rhett's voice is damn near the only thing that can pull you out of your stupor.

"I don't need it," really, you don't. You've already had three things from here; if anything, another greasy snack is the last thing that you need. There's food at home. 

But Rhett's already taking you by the hand, drawing his wallet from his back pocket, and it's just so hard to deny his firm offer to get you anything you want. The food tastes exactly how it smells: warm and easy on the tongue. Your spare glance at the folks selling fried dessert has him bringing over two plates of it. Maybe it's something he wanted, or maybe he's eating it just to make you feel better, you're not sure, but it's gone in minutes.

In the time it takes to walk to the truck, you've acquired a bag of handmade candy, sweet and wonderful, aside from the bizarrely tart green ones that Rhett insists he likes. White lie or not, you're just happy that you won't be accidentally popping one into your mouth again.

"You're sure ya don't want anythin' else?" The squeal of the passenger door almost covers up his question. One of these days, he'll figure out a solution that'll last for longer than a week.

"I'm sure," though if he gives you an hour, you've got a feeling that the answer will be different. For now, your stomach is so full that you almost wonder how you manage to climb into the truck, the slightest bit dizzy from all that sugar and grease.

Or maybe it's from something else because it doesn't seem to be fading. If anything, it seems to be getting worse, the cars in the parking lot spinning around your head like you're in a cartoon. Even the subtle sway of the truck as Rhett gets in the driver's seat is enough to worsen it. 

You can't see it, but you can feel his eyes on you. "I don't think..." That's your voice...but you never planned on talking? What are you trying to say?

Somehow, you've gotten yourself into the middle seat. Close enough for Rhett to loop his arm around your shoulders, drawing you into his side. He's so warm that you melt like ice on a summer day, head falling against his chest, the thump of his heartbeat loud in your ear. 

"Sweetheart..." his lips brush against your temple, some little thing that sends a shiver down your spine. "You feelin' okay?" 

"Dizzy." Concluding before you've even realized what he's asked. "Why?" 

A hand curls around your cheek, urging you to nuzzle closer as if you could possibly need any more encouragement. You're already starting to wedge yourself into the crook of his neck, right where his scent is the strongest. The little gland hidden there has a thicker sheen to it than usual, glistening even in the barely there light.

"Rhett?" You try again, and this time, you might have a little more control over what your body is doing. 

His jaw scratches the top of your head, sucking in a long, audible breath. "Your heats startin'." 

No, that doesn't make sense. Why would...why would your heat be starting? This isn't your first rodeo; you would have recognized the signs if it was coming on. The mood swings, the sudden onset of clinginess, the sudden bouts of lightheadedness that leave you stumbling, the insatiable hunger right at the cusp of—

"Oh."

You don't even feel your face fall. Or maybe you do, and you're just too distracted with the sting of wateriness building in your eyes, distorting your vision, and already trying to spill over. No. No, no, no, no. This can't be your heat. You've always had them toward the middle of spring, never late autumn. That doesn't—that doesn't make sense. Why would it start now?

"Hey, hey," it's not until Rhett starts talking that you realize you've been muttering your thoughts out loud. 

Problem is, you don't care that he's heard you. How are you supposed to when there's the looming possibility that you're never going to see him again? Doesn't he remember? You've got to choose someone before your heat starts, or else your parents will choose for you! 

"I ain't goin' anywhere yet," he's pulling you in, both arms wrapped tight around you, and even the awkward angle cannot distract you from the shiver that's settling into your bones. 

"I don't want you to go anywhere at all!" You don't mean to cry out like a child, but it happens anyway, pitchy and breaking in the middle.

Rhett doesn't open his mouth again. He can't. The Abbotts may have a reputation for being able to repair anything they get their hands on, but there's nothing Rhett can say or do to fix this. All he can do is keep pulling you close until he's leaning back against the door, and you're settled up on top of him, with not an inch of space left between. 

Maybe if you don't move, time won't tick by so quickly. 

The one bad thing about time is that it does pass, regardless of what you have to say on the matter. Because eventually, that time does come when Rhett has no choice but to start his truck; there's an hour's drive ahead of you, and red flags will begin waving if you come home in a full-blown heat. 

For the first time in a while, you see Rhett's speedometer five miles below the speed limit, uncaring of the impatient vehicles blaring the horns. Doesn't get riled up when some asshole drives by flipping him off, hardly even fusses when the guy merges too early and nearly clips the front of his truck. 

All he's worried about is taking as much time as he can, keeping that arm around you for as long as he can manage. Only draws away to handle sharp turns but quickly returns soon after, and frankly, you don't even care about chiding him for his risky driving. 

There's some dumb, sad song droning on the radio when he finally puts the truck into park, and it may be dark in this truck, but you can still see the wateriness brimming his eyes. You know it because you have that same glassiness, too. 

You've got a million and one things you could say, and yet, you can't bring yourself to say a single one of them. There's no point in it; this is probably the last time you'll ever see him. Unmated, at the very least. 

The front door opens before you can utter a single word. Don't know who it is, nor do you care. 

Rhett's forehead presses against yours, mouth opening, then clamping shut just as quickly. Can't say anything either. But then he leans his head down, temple rubbing against yours, and it's the closest thing to a goodbye that either of you can manage. This short, unspoken thing; rubbing his scent on you for both the first and the last time.

Either something about him was warding off the vicious beginnings of your heat, or the very smell of him threw you off the deep end because you hardly make it into your bedroom before the dizziness takes hold again. Feet dragging across the floor, forced to guide yourself with a hand against the wall while someone else shouts their recognition to the whole goddamn world. 

By the time you get your door closed, they're already muttering about which Tillerson to choose for you. Luke or Trevor? Who is the most worthy of selling you off to, like a piece of meat? 

The dizziness takes over before you've even made it to the bed. 

If heaven can be a moment, then this must be hell.

Waking up is always the worst. A dull, incessant throbbing deep in your bones, the edges of your vision blurry enough to give you the worst tunnel vision you've ever had the displeasure of experiencing. Sleeping on the floor has done you no favors, leaving a stiffness in the left side of your body that definitely was not there before. 

It's almost enough to distract from the obscene wetness between your legs. A clear fluid that stains the crotch of your pants and has left a big spot on the floor itself. 

"Maybe sleeping on the floor was worth it..." you mutter as you push yourself to your feet. Cleaning slick out of a mattress is much harder than those YouTube tutorials cropped it out to be; you'll be able to clean that before another wave of dumbness washes over.

The wipes in your bathroom are enough to take care of it, taking it off the hardwood with ease. Leaves you with more time to figure out what to do about these pants, if you're committing to trying another heat while fully dressed, or if a nightgown, while uncomfortably exposing, will be easier to handle. 

Your instincts are itching at you to build a nest, but is it even worth it, all things considered? If everyone has their way, you'll be shipped off to some alpha's house by the end of the night. First with a weekend bag, then the rest of your things once the heat fades. 

And what's that sitting on your windowsill? 

It's an amalgamation of color: dark red, beige, navy blue, balled up inside of something gray. Hell, even when you're looking at it through the glass, you haven't the slightest clue what it is. Leaves you with no choice but to peel open the window and—

A familiar scent strikes your nose. 

Rhett.

These are his shirts. Wrinkled and warm from the sun, and oh, they smell exactly like him. You can't help but squeeze the whole bundle to your chest, shamelessly burying your face into them. He must have spent the whole night rubbing on these like one of those overly friendly cats.

It's about that time of the morning when he puts his horse up in the pen while he helps with the usual barn maintenance, but you don't see her anywhere. The other horses are there: two palominos, a paint, and a handful of chestnuts, but that sturdy little black mare is nowhere to be found. 

Must have put her around the other side. 

Something crinkles inside of these clothes, deep down in the center of them. You know what it is before you've even unraveled the mess of fabric. Snacks. Your favorite chips, a candy bar, and the hard candies that you didn't realize you left in his truck. A torn piece of paper has been tucked into the candy bar wrapper.

Don't forget to eat :) 

Such a simple message shouldn't have tears stinging at the corners of your eyes, but it does, and as much as you'd like to blame it on your heat, you know that's not the case. Funny how even the bare minimum can look like the greatest act of kindness when your heart is torn in two.

Between the impending doom that is the rest of your life and the next wave of your heat coming along, you've got no appetite. That was the whole point of your inability to feel full last night, your body's futile attempt at stocking up on calories before it devolved into a weeklong period of craving nothing but sex, and knots, and alphas, and skin contact, and everything else under that umbrella.

Still, you eat it.

It's not so bad when you manage to convince your heat brain that Rhett's little note was growled into your ear, an order that you cannot possibly disobey. Snacking on the candy bar when you climb out of the shower, taking bites in between your routine, finishing it off when you settle into bed with one of those flannels. Storm clouds are rolling in, and they're doing nothing to ward off the sleepiness your heat is bringing on.

Your impromptu nap is interrupted by the impromptu barging in of someone letting you know that Trevor Tillerson has been chosen as your alpha. He'll be here sometime around nine to pick you up and take you to some fancy resort that he's rented just for the two of you. Somewhere far, far away from Wabang and the dark clouds looming overhead. 

If you had a choice in the matter, maybe it would be romantic.

The chips get you through a bout of doom scrolling on your cellphone until your face begins to feel hot, and you're rudely reminded that you've got to pack while you still can. A righteous pain in the ass that does nothing but frustrate you to no end. 

How are you meant to shove a week's worth of clothes into so few bags? On your heat, no less, the one time when you'll be soaking through most of your garments! And your laptop, where the hell do you shove that? Between the shirts? Do you even bother with these shorts? 

"Why am I doing this?" You mutter it as if you've got a choice in the matter, idly pawing at your spinning head. 

At one point, you suppose that you did. Marrying rich sounded like a wonderful idea when the subject was brought up ten years ago. A life with everything you could ever want. Endless vacations and money to spend on anything you want because you were born an omega, and such a rare thing deserves only the best. You'd had it in your head that you'd find the person of your dreams dressed up in a suit worth more than your entire family ranch. 

But you just had to run right into the Abbott family's youngest son, the one who had nothing but a black horse, a couple of flannels, and a championship rodeo buckle to his name. A new ranch hand, with his scruffy smile and the kindest hands you've ever known. 

Now, here you are. 

Your parents have invested hundreds of hours and an insurmountable amount of money into luring in alphas. They've made friendships with the families of your suitors and formed expectations for the outcome of your life that no longer align with your desires. You're in so deep that a simple 'no' will not suffice. Especially not when Rhett comes into the deal. 

A sourness blossoms in your chest, spreading into your lower belly like a plague, gut-twisting and churning as if you're about to be sick. There's an invisible hand squeezing around your heart, so tight that it just might burst, but you don't feel nauseous. Not one bit, and maybe that's got something to do with the blurring of your vision.

"Rhett," whining. Rhett. You want Rhett. Here. Right now.

That dizziness is growing worse. A foreign heat spreads deep in your inner thighs, flushing to superheat the rest of your body, but your face feels cold, and something wet is spilling across your cheeks. Tears fall quicker than the rain pattering against your window. A never-ending stream that has you hiccuping, frantically sucking in breaths of air that never quench the ache in your throat.

It is the whim of your own frantic hand that leads you to grab your phone. Scrolling through your contacts until you land on the fuzzy shape of a name that you've seen enough times for it to be familiar. 

It rings.

And it rings.

...and it rings.

"Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice messaging system," that robotic voice drones through the speaker, already beginning to ramble off the digits of Rhett's phone number. 

Maybe he didn't get to the phone in time. Yeah, that's got to be it. You'll try again. He'll pick up this time. 

"Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice messaging system."

Thunder rumbles outside, heavy enough to shake the house, rattling the knick-knacks on the shelves and sending slick rushing down your thighs. Sticky and burning, and oh god, your head is spinning like you're on a fucking merry-go-round. 

Someone's knocking at your door, the distorted sound of your name dancing through the room. Whether or not you respond, you've got no idea, but they're responding as if you did.

"Trevor is here," her voice is oddly familiar, but a face isn't coming to mind. 

"I need..." shaking your head, rattling a coherent thought into place. "I need...a little bit longer to pack."

Silence. And then, quietly, "Okay." Footsteps echo through the hallway and then dissolve into nothing.

You can't see. The colors of your room merge together into a sea of splotches, a fire burning up in your chest, the embers reaching all the way up into your skull. White and black, and gray and a spot of green that you just know is the call button. Your thumb darts across the screen. Tapping once. Nothing. Then a little lower.

The screen color changes. 

"Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice messaging system." Whether or not you manage to press 'end call,' you have no idea. All you know is that the screen color has changed. 

He turned off his phone. It didn't even ring before sending you to voicemail this time; he doesn't want to talk to you. 

Maybe he's already found company in one of those girls from last night's rodeo. Or maybe he's entirely decided that it isn't worth entertaining you anymore, not even in the slightest. But that doesn't explain why he's left you some of his flannels, like the one that you're pulling off the bed. 

His scent has already begun to fade, but as you bury your nose into the fabric, it smells as if he's really here. A little bit of focus is all it takes for you to convince yourself that he's right next to you. A big shield, curled around you, right here on the floor. How his jaw would tickle your neck as he rests his head on your shoulder, waiting until you're ready to get up and run off into the sunset with him.

Hell, if only it were that easy. 

If you were to take off on your own, right here and right now, you wouldn't make it out of Wabang. You can't smell them, but every alpha in town will pick up on the pheromones wafting off of you, and you're in no state to defend yourself. 

Even without the heat, you wouldn't be safe. So long as your neck remains bare, you run the risk of being seen as a piece of meat to others, both alpha and beta. One little nip is all it would take for someone to bond you to them forever; so simple that someone can run up from behind and do it within a second. 

When you open your eyes again, the world around you is a little clearer. 

...strange. 

Waves of your heat should last at least an hour or more, not a few minutes. Standing, even with the uneasy sway of your body, shouldn't be this easy. Yet you've got the strength to walk yourself over to the window, still open from when you took the shirts off the ledge. The wind has carried rain into the room, scattering across the floor and nearly causing you to slip. Your only saving grace is the windowsill itself, your clammy hands gripping it tight as they can. 

Evidently, house shoes aren't meant to traverse the elements. Not even a little bit of water. 

As if to reveal its schemes to you, the wind blows once more. Cool air kisses your burning cheeks, the only indication of how much you've already adjusted to your heat. Now, if only your eyes could do something similar and adjust to the shift in lighting. 

It can't be anything past eight o'clock, but night has already fallen in its entirety, a thick blanket of black covering everything beyond the horizon. Even so, you can vaguely make out the shape of something sitting in your driveway. Blocky, but there are four bits of round metal catching in the dull light hanging outside of the barn. 

Something behind it moves. Noticeably lighter than the dirt and whatever that object is. 

Your eyes narrow. Fighting the urge to lean further out the window as the thing creeps across the drive. A growl rumbles out of your throat. Goosebumps prickle across your skin. It's growing closer. 

Clink.

Clink. 

Clink.

Wait a damn minute.

"Rhett?" 

A laugh twists through the air with all the grace and beauty of a ballerina. "Did I hear you growlin' at me?" 

"You shut off your phone when I tried calling you!" Is all your dumb, cloudy mind can come up with, pitchy and whiny like a child. 

"Shh, shh, I know," there he is. The dull porch light is the only thing illuminating his handsome face. 

His mouth opens like he's got something else to say, but it closes just as quickly, still searching for the right words. Then, trying again. "Ya remember what y' said in the barn 'bout runnin' away?"

"Yes, but..." pausing to look over your shoulder at the closed door before looking back at him. "What about your horse? And, and, your job and your things at the bunkhouse?"

"I got it all taken care of," he's a little closer now, enough for you to see the longer scruff clinging to his jaw. Soft. Not quite as wirey as when it's freshly shaved. "'m startin' on a ranch in Nebraska next Monday mornin'. Owner says he knows a guy with a house I can rent for us. It ain't all that much, but I—"

"Okay." You can't help yourself. He doesn't need to say another word. 

His eyes flutter. "Okay." Parroting you, as if to make sure the word is what he thinks it is. 

For a moment or three, it's quiet. Nothing but the crunch of dirt beneath his boots and the jingle of spurs that he's too lazy to take off. And now he's standing right in front of you, nothing but this window and a small shrub separating you. His nostrils flare, and you're certain that if it were brighter out, you'd be able to see the darkening of his pupils.

There's that smile. Sprawling across his face, wrinkling the corners of his eyes, pearly white teeth glistening like he's the star of a toothpaste commercial. Can hardly close his mouth as you lean in, lips brushing against his. 

Voices echo from down the hallway, squeezing in through the cracks. 

Shit.

Your feet are moving before you can even process what's happening. Scrambling across the piles of clothes that sit on your floor. Grabbing whatever you can. Shoving it into the still-open bags. T-shirts. Shoes. Loungewear. You don't know what else. What you have and what you're missing can all be sorted out later. All you know is that those voices are getting closer, and you can't get back to the window fast enough.

You're not even sure if Rhett hears them talking, but he's not wasting time by asking questions. Already pulling the duffel bag from your arms and turning back towards his truck. Lightning flickers as you run back to your bags. Heart hammering so loud that you hardly even notice the thunder that follows.

One of the voices says your name. A laugh rattles after it. 

A zipper fumbles between your fingers. Climbs halfway down the track. Then catches on the hem of something sticking out. You can't see what it is. 

"Fucking—" swearing under your breath. You pull it again. No give. 

It'll have to do. You're already scrambling to shove the bag into Rhett's open arms. Twisting back for the last one. Phone. Where is your phone? But the room is spiraling with your movement, and your eyes feel as if they're rolling around in your skull. Vision darting every direction except for where you want it to go.

There it is. On the floor, next to his shirt. Which part of the bag are you shoving them into? You don't know. 

The voices are closer. Three. Four. Five of them. Talking, laughing together as they edge near your room and your unlocked door. 

"Baby." Rhett's voice cuts through your thoughts like a knife. 

You don't think any time has passed, and yet, turning back to the window feels like the first time you've moved in minutes. The edges of your vision swim, merging into a haze of black as you scramble to him. 

You've gotten over this window before. He's seen you do it. But as you draw a leg up and over, his hands dart out and settle on your waist. Holding you steady, like you might fall to your death if he doesn't.

Rain pelts your face like tiny bullets, freezing on your superheated skin, and the voice in your head wonders if this is what freedom feels like. The rush buzzing through your veins. The big hand that squeezes yours, the mud that kicks up under your heels as you tear down the driveway. 

Wind squeals in your ears so loud that you nearly miss the clatter ring through the window. But it's too late for them to kick in the door. You're too far gone for them to catch. Because your feet are flying beneath you. And Rhett's right alongside you. And even the storm cannot conceal the glisten in his eye. The way he laughs, loud and triumphant and excited. 

It's the scene that's played through your head ever since you met. 

A voice calls out. Rhett splits off to slam his truck bed cover closed. You keep going.

Another one echoes through the storm. Deeper. Shouting your name.

"Stop!" 

But there's no leash to hold you back. No magical lasso that they can throw out and reel you back in with. Nothing stops you from pulling on the handle of the passenger door and leaping up into the seat, scrambling to slam it shut before someone can magically appear to wedge it open. 

Rhett's door squeals open. Vehicle swaying as he all but launches himself inside, fumbling for the gear shift. 

The truck jerks forward, engine roaring as the tires spin. The tail end jerks to the left, then the right, then back to the left again, gunning it down the driveway.  

Light pours through the front door, vaguely human blotches rushing out onto the porch. Even as you twist to look out the rear window, they're nothing more than tiny spots of color, growing smaller and smaller. The headlights of a truck flick on, but it's no use. Rhett's tires are already kissing the pavement of the main road.

You blink, and the house is gone; you might as well be a million and one mile away.

Rhett's head turns, just as yours does, eyes locking for the briefest of seconds. A little rumble of something escapes him, and it must be contagious because something a giggle is bubbling out of you, boiling into laughter.  

"That was," his mouth fumbles through his smile, "not how I planned it."

"What, were you hoping to get shot at, too?" Slow, you turn to settle back into the seat, wedged between him and the duffel bag crammed against the passenger door. 

Something sharp stabs in your lower belly. So sudden that it has your knees knocking together, eyes squeezing shut. As quickly as it happened, a wave of heat curls into its place, an uncomfortable wetness appearing between your legs.

A hand appears on your thigh. Hot. Clammy. "You okay?" 

"Heat." Is all you can say. 

That's all it is, really. Cramps. The one thing that manages to be worse than your heat itself. You can handle the overwhelming craving for an alpha between your legs, stretching you to your limit as he knots you over and over and over.

Ugh. You can't be thinking of this right now. 

Just like how you shouldn't be slouching to your left, cheek squishing Rhett's shoulder, big and warm, and right where he tends to spray his cologne. Faint from a day of wear, but there's still a peppery note lingering on him, overwhelmed by...something you can't describe. 

Something that makes the tip of your nose feel numb. 

Odd. It was there last night, too, but you don't recall it appearing any other time before that. There was certainly no trace of it in the barn or when he snuck into your bedroom afterward. Maybe your heat has warped your sense of smell again; it wouldn't be the first time. 

Rhett's foot shifts from the gas, gently pressing against the brakes for an upcoming red light, fingers audibly drumming against the steering wheel. 

Something white rolls across the floorboard, tiny somethings rattling around inside. Tumbling toward the front of the truck, then falling back to thunk against the toe of your muddy hose shoe. 

"'s just some vitamins," Rhett mutters, kicking them with his foot, sending the bottle thunking against the passenger door, cap popping open. A myriad of long, round blue pills spill out, decorating the floor. 

Huh. 

You've never seen blue vitamins before, their pastel color seeming to glow in the lights hanging overhead, Wabang's feeble attempt at keeping the darkness of night at bay. Curious, you lean down and reach out for the container. Your fingertips brush against the plastic on your first try, depth perception warped by the haze of your heat, but you get it on the second attempt.

Suppressants for Alphas only 250MG Rut Suppressants.

Your head turns to Rhett. His eyes dart from the label. To yours. Then, back to the road. 

The pieces click together so perfectly that you can hear them falling into place. Resonating through your empty skull until every fiber of your psyche echoes the same thing. 

"You started your rut," it slips out of your mouth like it's a scientific breakthrough. A discovery that will be written in the history books for millennia. 

His Adam's apple bobs, swallowing hard. A pink tongue darts out to wet his lips. "Didn't want ya thinkin' that was my reason for all this."

"I wouldn't have thought that Rhett," reaching for the hand that still rests on your thigh, fingers slotting between his, lightly squeezing it in your grasp. 

But his head just shakes, foot twitching against the gas pedal. The truck lurches, finally beginning to pull through that traffic light. "'s my fault your heat started." 

"I know." You already put that together. It explains everything: the odd timing and the sudden onset of it at the rodeo. That funny scent he's been wearing...it was from the pills. 

He looks at you again, teeth worrying his bottom lip, already swollen from the abuse. First, the licking, now the chewing. If you give it a minute, he'll start rubbing at them with his fingertips. For now, those heavy eyes dart back to the road. Guilty. "'n you're not upset 'bout that?" 

You're not entirely sure what to say to him. That the timing may be inconvenient, but you're happy to be here with him, running after a fever dream that might or might not work out? Do you admit that you wish this would have happened sooner? 

So many thoughts, and yet, not a word drifts down to your tongue. Instead, all you can think to do is this. Leaning over, left arm crammed between your bodies, as your right squirms across his belly, squeezing him. A poor attempt at a hug, but he softens under your touch all the same.

"It's not your fault," you murmur after a moment. The world around you is beginning to twist again, warping into a familiar blur, makes it hard to move your mouth. "You wouldn't hold it against me if my heat triggered your rut. Why would it be any different the other way around?"

You don't feel him move, but his lips find their way to your temple, lingering for a fleeting second. They would likely stay longer if driving didn't demand so much of his attention, hand idly working the steering wheel as you rumble through Wabang. If anyone has followed you this far, then surely they'll lose you here; too many winding streets for them to maintain a trail.

There's a part of you that wonders if you fell asleep because the next time your eyes open, the road is different. One moment, you're in town, and the next, you're on a dark, four-lane highway merely illuminated by the vivid beams of his headlights. 

Or maybe...maybe it's just two lanes because the lights on the dash seem to have doubled. Blurry and out of focus, no matter how much you try to blink your vision back into clarity. Shifting in the seat, you lift your head. 

And immediately let it thunk back onto Rhett's shoulder, vision twisting as if you've spent the past thirty minutes spinning in circles. "Ugh."

"There you are," Rhett hums. His hand drops down to squeeze your knee, giving it a little shake. "Did you know that ya snore?" 

"I do not!" Your squeal comes out as a hoarse croak. So foreign in your mouth that you hardly recognize it. 

An invisible bolt of lightning fires up your belly. 

Slick pools between your legs, staining your underwear and seeping down to your thighs. There's a shiver in your bones that wasn't there before, wavering like a leaf in high wind, without rhyme or reason. And there's this deep set ache in your lower stomach, reaching all the way to your weeping cunt, almost sore from lack of use, demanding attention that your fingers can't satisfy. 

"What's wrong?" Rhett's voice meets your ears like a ray of sunshine on a stormy day. 

Shame that it can't ward off the wave of cramps thundering through your lower belly. "Hurts," 

"Jus' a few more miles, 'kay?" His arm lifts, draping across your weary shoulders like a blanket. It's a fleeting touch that'll be forced to end at the next curve in the road, but it's nice to slouch into, head coming to rest against the side of his chest. Thin muscle flexes under your cheek, stretched so tightly that you can feel the bone lurking underneath. 

You wonder if he's just naturally built so wirey or if he'll be one of those alpha's that grow bulkier with a mating bond. It's hard to figure it out without being familiar with his family; if you knew the Abbotts personally, then maybe you'd have heard the stories of it happening with his father or brother. Maybe even a grandparent.

On its own, your hand shifts, crawling to rest on his knee. It's just as bony as the rest of him, and yet, conceals just enough muscle to cling onto the backs of those bulls. They're invisible at first glance, but if you squeeze, you can feel the softness of them, wrapped around hard bone. 

"Are you feelin' me up?" He chuckles, wiggling his leg back and forth as if to try and shake you off. 

Well, you weren't yet, but now that he's put the idea in your head...

Rhett sucks in a breath. His hips jerk, the truck lurching as his foot spontaneously presses against the pedal. You've felt him in your palm before, but fuck you don't remember him being this thick, twitching under the slightest bit of pressure. 

"Wait," he grunts. That arm is already slipping out from behind your shoulder, big hand encircling your wrist.

Maybe you should have asked first. "Did I—"

"No. God no," talking so fast that he stumbles over his words, "just...hurts." 

And yet, he makes no move to draw your hand away, letting it remain there as he focuses on keeping the truck on the road, grip so firm that you're almost certain he won't let you pull back. It's all you can do to ignore the way he throbs through his jeans, pulsing against your soft palm, testing the will of the zipper confining him.

It must take a year for him to begin turning off onto an exit, dark and poorly lit by a scattered array of frail lamp posts. The road thins, and all of a sudden, neon flickers to life—a hotel sign. Logo written in such gaudy cursive that you can hardly read its name. 

A whine rattles out of you, squirming impossibly closer. 

There's a blip in your memory. 

You don't remember when he pulled into the parking lot or when you got out of the truck. But the air is cool around your ankles, and his arm is tight around your waist, forcing you to remain upright. You can't feel your feet moving, but you're stumbling along next to him anyway, head hanging low, too heavy for the rest of your body. 

"Where...?" 

"Almost there." His voice is on your left. Damn this stupid heat, why was that such a surprise to you? 

A shrill beep sounds. Green flashes. 

A bed.

It's as if a switch has flipped. The door falls shut behind you, but your feet are glued to the floor; the edges of your vision still twist, but the world around you has become noticeably...still. Surreal, even. Any moment now, you're waiting to blink away the sight of this drab little hotel and find yourself standing in the four familiar walls of your bedroom.

But as you lift your head, gaze crawling up Rhett's chest like a hungry animal, that doesn't happen. The sight of him doesn't begin to fade, his body remaining firm against yours, even as your eyes dare to meet. 

According to the romance novels and the films you've spent so much time watching, you're supposed to be the disheveled one here. Hell, maybe you are. But those films never depicted how pretty an alpha can be when their rut has set in. Freshly bitten lips, messy hair, and rosy cheeks, gazing at you with those glistening eyes. It's as if you hold his entire world in the palm of your hand.  

Slow, you twist, careful to mind where your numb feet fall, greedy hands roaming up the thick expanse of his chest, sculpted from a lifetime of back-breaking labor. Then, wandering up his neck, slowing to feel the vein bulging there, chasing it up into the soft hair clinging to his jaw. Your thumb swipes across his bottom lip, watching how it squishes under the pressure.

His eyelashes flutter; you wonder if he was a butterfly in his past life, still clinging to old habits. It's a question you'll have to ask him later when you're not halfway into leaning in and catching those thin lips in yours. 

There goes your head again, swirling 'round and 'round, set into motion by the hum that rattles out of him. One little peck. Your hands drop back down to feel the swell of his chest. A second. His arms begin to wind around you. A third, and the heel of his palm is pressing into the small of your back, and you're crumpling.

It's like a freshly knocked-over candle. The smokey leather of his scent, haunted by the fading chemical that temporarily overrode the pheromones radiating off of him. Invisible to the nose at first, but the fire is already beginning to spread until it's roaring so bright that you reckon flames might come out of your ears. 

Your arms coil around his thin waist, cinching him in with a strength you thought you'd lost. A stray foot slots between yours, his chest pushing into you, and the room is spinning. Caught by a mattress that squeals and bounces with your combined weight, unprepared for such a landing. 

"You 'megas sure get strong when ya want somethin'," Rhett's hair tickles your forehead as he settles on top of you. Perfectly slotted between your parted legs, jeans deliciously rough against your exposed thighs, pajama shorts hardly doing anything to conceal you. 

A little too curious, your hips roll, eager to find out if you can feel the bulge of his cock. 

You can.

Worse. He felt it too, already beginning to swivel forward, a foreign pressure appearing against your weeping cunt. Something jolts up your spine. Doesn't necessarily hurt; more of a reminder of what you don't have.

"Like you're so innocent in all this," your words come out rushed, riding the coattails of a shaky breath. 

He doesn't have anything to say to that, maybe a little shy as he nuzzles his nose against your cheek. A stark contrast to the bold hips that press into you, so eager and desperate to feel you. It's like the first time you crossed that boundary, ground down on each other until neither could take it anymore. 

Except, this time, you've no reason to stop there. 

No family. No concern about high-dollar alphas or uncomfortable, fashionable outfits. These peeling walls couldn't care less about who you coil your legs around. This bed isn't going to fuss at you for spreading your legs to a scruffy ranch hand without a pedigree. 

You're the only one who cares about the way he guides himself with his nose, blindly wandering back to meet your mouth. Kisses you with all the fervor of a man who's just found everything he's ever wanted. 

His hands are everywhere, cradling your face, skirting down your sides, and wandering up under your shirt, callouses catching on the soft skin of your belly as he roams beneath. Then he's above your shirt again, dragging up the swell of your breasts, on his way to grip your jaw.

It's so hard to stay still. Your fingers find their way to his flannel, already trying to work it open. It's so much harder with your eyes closed, shivering hands struggling to remain still. Fuck, this button just doesn't want to move. Stubbornly caught in the hole, refusing to slip through, even as you pull—

It snaps off. Lands atop your heaving chest. Rhett draws back, already looking down at it. 

"I'm sorry—"

"Don't be." The corner of his lip lifts, flashing a sharp canine. Cocky, as he reaches for the shirt, buttons flying as he yanks it open. "'s kinda hot."

And just like that, he's leaning back onto his haunches, hands skimming down your sides until his fingers can comfortably hook under your shorts. Obedient, your hips lift, knees cinching up to help get them past your ankles. They're gone in an instant, underwear and all.

Is he trying to take his time? Probably.

Does that stop you from impatiently pinching his belt buckle open and yanking on the zipper? No. No, it does not. 

"Alright, alright," only Rhett Abbott can laugh this prettily, cherry red cheeks and all. "'n here I am tryin' to be a gentleman." 

You and your swirling head know that he has to pull away to get those jeans off. They need to come off, but you're already whining for him to come back. Some primal, involuntary noise that you don't recall making before, pathetic as a wounded animal.

Rhett's head jerks up. "It's okay, it's okay," he's already coming back. You knew he would, but the dumb part of your brain argues that he wouldn't have unless you made that pitiful little noise. 

But regardless of the reason, his big, warm body is slotting between your legs, his big chest flexing as he crawls up to meet your mouth. It hardly even counts as a kiss, more of a pressure that serves to remind you he's there. He's here. With you, and he's not going anywhere else. 

"I ain't goin' anywhere," he murmurs as if he's heard every silent worry racing through your dumb little mind. Can't seem to think about anything except for him and his scent and the feel of him against you and what he might be doing next.

His head dips, nuzzling you with his temple. It's the simplest damn thing, but hell, if it doesn't suck the air right out of your lungs. The innately primal drag of his scent glands against your skin, marking you like a prize he's fought tooth and nail to keep. Perfect in every sense of the term, everything you've imagined and more. 

You don't know what made your eyes drift down, but one way or another, they do, and—

"Jesus, Rhett." You've been anticipating this going a number of ways, but good lord, you didn't have this on your laundry list of ideas, what-ifs, and daydreams. 

Even when you were greedily decorating your imaginary version of him, you never quite pictured his cock to be this fucking thick. So damn heavy that it hangs between his legs, hovering just above your belly, the faintest swell of his knot already beginning to show. 

His chuckle almost sounds devilish; knows damn well what he's got and what it could do to you. "Don't think much of me is gonna fit." Understatement of the fucking century. 

No wonder he never let you touch him; he probably thought it would scare you away. In your right mind, maybe it would, but you can almost feel the hearts blossoming in your eyes, already beginning to reach for him. Your hand freezes midway—maybe you should ask first. He still might not...

He's gently taking you by the wrist, guiding you the rest of the way. This is your first ride in this particular rodeo, but your fingers wrap around his base as if you've been doing it for decades. Oh, he's so much bigger than he looked, makes your hand appear tiny as it glides up the length of him. It's enough to have your heart jumping in your chest, pitter-pattering with a newfound vigor. 

Wetness pools between your legs. So much of it that you can feel the way it runs down your thighs, and you just can't help but angle him down, dragging his fat cock head through your weeping folds. 

He groans. 

Your vision blurs. 

The world might fall apart.

A sudden shiver takes hold of you. Quaking like you're being rattled from the inside out, another wave of slick drooling out of your poor, unused cunt, delirium settling at the forefront of your mind. Saliva drips from the corner of your mouth, the edges of your vision blurring to the point of disappearing entirely.

"Shit..." One of you says it. You're not sure who.

It's as if you're the gasoline and Rhett is the lighter, setting you ablaze with the slightest hint of a flame. You don't realize you're still wearing a shirt until after it's peeled over your head, and even then, the loss of it does nothing to soothe the invisible wildfire claiming every inch of your skin.

Oh, and you think he might have it as bad as you do. Noses and chests crashing together, pinning your arm between your bellies, his cock rutting against your cunt like it's always belonged there. He whines into your mouth, jerking forward, the underside of his length massaging against your swollen clit. 

"Fuckin'..." he loses track of his words, panting against your mouth like a dog in the sun, "hell, 'm tryna go slow, but—"

Your body jerks up off the bed. Desperate. Needy. Aching for more than just a brush of him against you. The slow glide of him isn't enough. More. You need so much more. But it's hard to speak when your mouths clash, tongues tangling so sloppily that calling it a kiss would be an insult to the word. 

"Go." Panting against his lips. "Slow." One more word. One more word. "Later." 

Rhett draws back, spit-slick lips glistening in the light. The corner of his eye twitches. As if set off by it, you involuntarily clamp down around nothing, needily seeking something that isn't there yet. The emptiness is nauseating. 

"Rhett," you plea, because why in God's name is he not in you yet?

Dumb, stupid, well-meaning alpha. Always has to be taking his time and treating you like you're made of glass, ready to shatter at any given moment. But you're made of the same material as he is, fully capable of rolling over and—

Teeth sink into the scruff of your neck. Every bone, muscle, and fiber in your body goes still. You're stuck like this. Face down, trapped beneath his body, ass high in the air for him. Big arms cage your waist, his chest resting against your back like you're a pair of wild animals—no grace or sophistication about it. 

"'m tryin' to be careful with you, darlin'," his growl is muffled by your own flesh, still caught between his sharp teeth, "y' don't want me bruisin' this little pussy of yours, now do ya?" 

And as if to punctuate his sentence, his hips twitch toward, cock slipping between your slick-soaked thighs. Draws back, angle shifting just enough to have his blunt tip pressing against your weeping entrance, opening you the slightest fraction, then slipping out to slide through the folds of your cunt instead. 

The voice in your head suggests it's a threat. A reminder of what he's capable of. But your body says otherwise, already pressing back into him despite the teeth holding you pliant. Thick waves of want pulsing through your veins, thoughts aligning to echo the same damn thing. You need more. 

A cramp takes hold of your lower belly, a stabbing sort of sensation that makes you wince. Whatever primal instinct lingering in your genetics is livid.

"It hurts." You cry in a pitchy tone you've never heard yourself use before. 

"'m gonna fix it," his mouth reels away from your neck, licking over the irritated skin. "I promise."

Again, you push back. Hands digging into the bed, moving with your whole body. Sharp teeth sink back into your neck, his arms coiling around you, pulling tight until you can no longer move. 

That pressure appears again, and this time, it doesn't disappear. The unmistakable sensation of his fat cock head pressing into your pussy. He feels so much different than the silicone of your toys, warm and pulsing and so much fucking thicker; you're quite literally made to take a cock like his, loose and slick with your heat, and yet there's still an ache blooming. 

It feels impossible. There's no way...there's no way that's going to fit. 

Oh, but the feel of his tip alone has you gushing around him, an obscene amount of slick waterfalling down your thighs and onto the mattress below. He groans, low and heavy, his heated breath tickling the back of your ear.

"Rhett..." 

"I'm here," he's murmuring, and again, he's soothing the bite with his tongue. You wonder if this is what it would feel like for him to mate you. For him to sink his teeth into the scent gland on the side of your neck and let instinct take over, lick the wound clean, smother you in his scent, and then bear his pretty, pale neck for you to take for yourself. 

You can't think about it for long. Not with his cock sinking into your aching heat, filling every centimeter of you, so big that he presses against each and every little nerve without needing to try. It's as if you're being split wide open, forced to do nothing but relax and take it like a good little omega. 

A whimper escapes you, pitchy and involuntary. Set off by the drag of his tip against a particularly sensitive spot. 

"'s that where you like it?" He coos, rumbling into your ear. It's all you can do to tilt your head back, your cheek bumping into his nose. So close, not another word spoken.

It's like being broken apart and then built back up again. Fuck you can feel him up in your throat. The stretch of him is so much that it aches. Your mouth falls open at the feel of him inching deeper and deeper, pushing the air from your lungs, winding your muscles tight. Head spinning with a gentleness that wasn't there before as if your own body knows that it no longer needs to fuss about an alphas cock. 

The solid bone of his hips presses into the swell of your ass. Fully in you now. His heated breath fans out over your shoulder, heavy and carrying the faintest noises along with it. 

You'd thought that you'd let go of the breath caught in your throat, but...but...

"Fuck, look at you," the soft scruff of his jaw tickles your naked shoulder, such a foreign sensation to feel him there. So unfair. You should have known this feeling years ago. "So fuckin' pretty." 

His hands roam up your sides, callouses catching on the smooth skin, dragging just right. A shiver ripples up your spine, body involuntarily falling forward, only to sway back into him. 

Stars sparkle. Your legs nearly come out from under you. "Shit, Rhett..." 

So much. There's so much of him. In you and around you and on top of you and crowding every single one of your senses. There's no hotel.  No concern about how terrible everyone at home may feel. No earth around you. Not a single star in the galaxy. Just Rhett, Rhett, Rhett. 

"Move," you whisper as kisses press to the length of your spine. One after the other, like he's trying to love on each and every bone there. 

You squirm forward, then back again, hardly enough to even count as a movement, but the underside of his cock drags right against a nerve that damn near takes your voice away. His hand flattens against your belly, but he doesn't hear you. 

"Move," you try again, craning your head to look at him. Dark blue eyes lift, looking back at you, still peppering your back with love. "Please, Rhett—"

His hips snap into you. Pressing hard.

Your elbows crumple, falling face first into the pillow, but he just keeps fucking pressing into you, as if you could possibly take any more. A whine sparks out of you, twisting to expose your neck to him. He chuckles at that, low and dark, tongue poking past his lips to run over the delicate scent gland hiding there. 

 Then, slowly, he begins to move. Drawing back at a snail's pace, his forearms caging your waist as if to keep you from running away when he pushes back into you. Shivers run through your thighs, already beginning to clench from the feeling of him inside you alone. 

You've dreamed of this too many times for the newness to remain for long, squirming beneath him, fighting to keep your eyes on his face. Flushed and red in the cheeks, has yet to say anything, but it's easy to tell that he's feeling it, too. 

Those careful back and forths are already beginning to find their confidence, like he's slowly realizing that his cock isn't going to break you into two, no matter how much it feels like it will. Hips hitting your ass hard enough to send you jolting, a surprised little 'uh' breaking past your lips. 

"Only goddamn omega in the state of Wyomin'," he muses aloud, nails dragging over the side of your ass, making you squirm against him, "n here ya are, gettin' mounted by a cowboy." 

Impatient, he snaps into you. Heavy balls smacking into your clit. Electricity jumps up your belly. You hardly recognize what's happening. But you're fluttering around him. Heart lurching in your chest. Slick gushing down your thighs. Crying out as you suddenly cum on his cock. Eyes rolling back into your head and all. 

"Fuck, that's...fuck,"  Rhett hisses through grit teeth, but he's not stopping. No, no, he's not even slowing down. 

Shocks fire through your nerves with every motion. The kiss of his fat head against your nerves. The drag of his length along your trembling walls. The slight swell of a knot catching on your swollen entrance. But it feels so good that you can't do anything but hold still, clenching around him like a goddamn vice.

"Can't believe I never—mmh," his head falls forward, thunking against your shoulder, hips rolling into you in languid motions. "Can't believe I went this long without breedin' this pretty lil pussy of yours." 

Air catches in your throat. Cunt sent into a spasm from his words alone. "If you keep talking, I'm...I'm..." You haven't got an ending for that sentence, left open-ended and hanging. 

Kisses lead up the side of your neck, working their way to your jaw. You tilt your head, trying your best to meet him. The angle puts a strain on your neck, unable to bend any further. Even as you push your hands into the mattress and try to force yourself backward, you can't...quite...

The room shifts. Falling forward into the pillow. Rhett's heavyweight collapses on top of you. Cool air greets your swollen cunt, suddenly empty. 

"Well, that didn't..." Rhett's laugh is a melody in your ear, his smile so big that you can feel it against your cheek, "that didn't work too well." 

Between the emptiness in your skull and the sudden change in position, figuring out where you start and where he ends is a...challenge. He starts moving at the same time that you do. His knee awkwardly slots behind your thighs. Your knuckles accidentally smack into his jaw. And he's moving toward you, but you're twisting against the mattress, and your noses are smacking into each other—

"There's your pretty face," he grins, a little too cheerful. You've barely got time for your back to settle against the cheap mattress before he leans in.

The kiss is a little too innocent for what's going on below. Soft, chaste pecks. A sharp contrast to the way he settles between your parted legs, heavy cock bumping into you. Your hand darts between your bellies, blindly guiding him toward your sex. 

It's easier the second time. The gentle glide of him, chasing away that infuriating emptiness as he sinks back into you, balls bumping into your ass. So much better. This is so much better. You're already wandering, hands roaming across the broad expanse of his shoulders, seeking the perfect spot to cling on to him.

"Look at that..." he breathes, and you don't need to guess to know what he's referring to, "gonna have y' limpin' before the nights over." 

It's the kind of thing that has you shivering. The obscene sight of his thick cock disappearing between your legs stretched to your absolute limit. Impossible to look away from, even when he draws back by an inch or two, testing the angle as he sinks back in. Almost effortless, he nudges against a bundle of nerves. Sets it ablaze like a match on gasoline.

"Fuck. I can feel ya clenchin' round me, sweetheart," his eyelashes flutter, hair falling into his red face, swinging in synchrony with the lazy rocking of his body, easing in and out of you. "'s it feel that good?"

Greedy, you reach for his biceps, squishing the girth of them, muscle flexing beneath your fingertips. "Uhuh," speaking dumbly. Not another thought crosses your mind. 

There can't possibly be a bad position with Rhett, but this is something else entirely. Feels so nice to wrap your legs around his hips, heels digging into his ass, clinging to his big, warm body. Chest to chest, so close that his scruffy jaw tickles your cheek, big blue eyes threatening to drown you if he gets any closer.

Your mouths fall open, meeting for another one of those kisses that insult the romantics attached to such a word. Nothing but lewd tongue and saliva running down your chins, panting into each other, breath so hot that it ought to fog up the room. And you just can't help it, not with the press of his cock against your nerves, so damn big that missing them is impossible.

He's too quiet. Stiffling little noises in the back of his throat, extinguishing them before they can make it past the tip of his tongue. One of your hands is slithering up his arm. Wandering across the expanse of his shoulders, fingers tangling into the loose curls at his nape and pulling. 

A whine cuts through the air. Muffled at the end, but it's there nonetheless.

Words collide in your head. Tumbling down onto your drooling tongue. "Wanna hear you." 

It should take more convincing than that, but for some reason, that's all that it takes for him to give you what you want. A little noise soars out of him with all the perfection and catchiness of the new biggest hit playing on the radio. 

You think you can cum from that sound alone. 

This is so surreal. 

The nuzzle of his nose against yours, panting against your lips. The flex of muscle in his belly, as he draws himself back and forth, rutting into you, slow, yet meeting your body hard enough to have your back jostling against the mattress. You think you catch the sound of your name, twisted into the symphony of noises rattling around the room.

"I love you," it slips out of you with crippling ease; has been sitting on your tongue for so, so long that you forgot it was there at all. 

His lips wobble up into a smile. There's a glassiness in his eye that wasn't there before. "And I love you." 

He melts. 

Falls into you, even. 

Nothing but sweaty skin and wandering hands and peppered kisses everywhere that they'll fit. Up the side of your clammy neck, atop his burning forehead. The base of his knot is starting to swell, catching on your entrance with every stroke, tugging just enough for it to rip a gasp out of you. 

"'m close," he whispers, just a little secret to be shared between you and him. Not another soul is allowed to know of this little slice of heaven situated atop this old hotel mattress. "You gotta...baby, if y' don't let me go, 'm gonna..."

"Knot." Blurting. Your eyes flutter. "Please, I want—"

He hums. Doesn't need to open his mouth for you to understand that he gets it. No fuss about the crippling lack of a condom or how you really, truly can't go back from this, instead blindly following your request with crippling loyalty. Yours. Your alpha. The one who would follow you to the ends of the earth without a word. 

Even if you wanted to, it's too late to change your mind because his knot is too swollen to slip out of you. Weary, unstable thrusts are forced into an unfamiliar shallowness, but it's forcing an angle that has him rolling directly into every little nerve. You can't stop the hand that dives between your bodies, fingertips pressing to your clit in a familiar fashion.

Just a little more. Just a little more.

An involuntary clench is all it takes to have him spilling over the edge. Face falling into the crook of your neck, cumming with a choked cry that rings through your head. Fuck nobody ever told you that you'd be able to feel his knot swelling inside of you. Stretching you beyond your limit, hot cum spilling into your pussy, not a drop of it spilling out. 

Without warning, your back twitches up off the bed, cumming without warning. Head thrown back. Heart pounding against your chest. Clenching like a vice around Rhett's twitching cock. You might be muttering his name because you can feel your mouth moving, but you're too far away to hear what's leaving your lips. Entirely lost in the thundering clouds looming in the skies. 

However long you're up there, you have no idea, but at some point, Rhett finds the strength to settle onto his forearms. Pressing kisses to your lower jaw and trailing up to your temple, shiny with your scent. No two descriptions of it have been the same, but you like to believe his description is closest to reality. A fresh strawberry pie, sitting on the windowsill after the rain has ended. 

You can't help yourself, his neck is right there. The gland exposed to you like he's trying to show it off, so sensitive that he gasps at the nip of your teeth. 

He hums, leaning back just far enough to get a look at your face. Whatever he finds looming behind your sparkling eyes is enough to have a smile contorting his lips. Then, he tilts his head to the side, properly bearing his neck to you.

You know what he's offering. Asking. The quietest proposal you've ever heard. 

Logic suggests that you wait. Give yourselves time to grow together. Adjust to the discomfort of a collar in exchange for the opportunity to take things slow. The world won't end if you step off onto the well-worn path of tradition; if it's worked for everyone else, then it should work for you.

But you've done enough waiting. Your heart made its decision a long time ago. 

The movies made this seem like some blinding moment of passion. The moment your teeth sink into the delicate scent gland, the world should explode into colors that you've never seen before. The answers to the universe ought to dance around your fingertips, hearts springing from your eyes. 

But all Rhett does is giggle. 

Gidy, like a little kid on the playground, as he cranes his head to find the matching spot on your neck. Soothing it with his tongue before his canines break the skin. 

Blood rushes to your face so quickly that you can hear it in your ears. Your heart jumps, and maybe it grows the slightest bit warmer, but...nothing changes. It's still you, Rhett, and his big, strong body shielding yours from the world. These hands that cradle your cheeks are still the ones that you've known all these years. He still nuzzles your noses together, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

Voices rattle in the hallway. Something—no, someone, bumps against the door, her giggles intertwining with the laughter of a much deeper voice. 

"Mine." 

You don't recognize...

was that you?

 "'re you growlin' again?" Rhett asks, in that playfully accusatory tone, shoulders already shaking with a laugh.

You don't realize your chest is rumbling until it stops. "No." Blinking. No, that wasn't...

"Didn't know y' were this possessive of me," there's no arguing with him; he knows what he's heard. Already beginning to cover your cheek in kisses, his body shifting between your legs. That knot is still snug, tying your bodies together for the next half-hour at minimum. 

"I'm not possessive," you try, but it's hard to be convincing when he's looking at you with those pretty blue eyes like you're his whole world and then some. Maybe that's your hopeful heart talking, or maybe it's truly what you saw. 

"Yes, you are," amusement lacing his tone, "'s cute." 

If heaven's a moment, then you must be dead. 

There are too many things in this damn kitchen.

Scratch that, too many fucking cookies. Some still rising in the oven, and others are scattered on plates across the counter, with their stupid, sweet aroma that does nothing but give you a mild migraine. This idea was better in theory than in execution. You'll be damned if you get ambitious and decide to bake treats for everyone on the ranch again. 

A warmth greets your nose. Leather and something smokey sweet, like a marshmallow roasting over an open campfire. Just a hint of it at first, carrying in through the back door and swirling around the room like a loose tornado, growing in tune with the boots thunking toward you.

Clink.

Clink.

Clink.

"Are you ever taking those spurs off?" You chirp, too focused on setting this tray on top of the stove to look in his direction. If you drop these, your life might end on the spot.

Arms coil around your waist, the thick muscle rippling as he draws you back by an inch, your back coming to rest against a sturdy chest. Lips press to your cheek. One. Two. Three kisses. Leading down to his favorite grand finale: the scar on your neck. 

A shiver ripples up your spine. 

"Gon' have to leave soon," He doesn't answer your question. Probably because you already know the answer; he was going to, but he forgot. "'s a long drive, 'member?"

"Hang on, hang on." Placing the oven mitt off to the side, you reach for a cookie. Still warm, but no longer a burn hazard. Blindly, you lift it to your shoulder until he leans forward to take it with his mouth. "You go pro, and all of a sudden, you're insufferable again."

A chuckle rumbles out of him at that, but he's temporarily muzzled, the short hair on his chin tickling your skin when he nears the end of the cookie. His lips wrap around the tips of your fingers, stealing away the final piece. 

"Like you ain't got a thing for showin' me off after a good ride," his arms tighten as he speaks, fully securing you against him now. 

...and drawing your ass right into a familiar pressure. Don't need to look to know that you're pressing yourself back into the bulge in his jeans, heavy and looking for fun that you, unfortunately, don't have time for. "Are we still talking about bull riding?" 

Twisting in his arms is easy. You've done it so many times that you ought to know that you should draw your head back, but your noses collide anyway. Breaking the habit isn't worth it. 

"Dunno," he's got chocolate on the corner of his lip, and even his smile cannot distract you from it, "you tell me." 

This is a routine you've danced a hundred times. The pre-rodeo adrenaline that has him crawling all over you like some kind of love bug, desperate to relieve the tension building in his muscles. 

Relieving it is only temporary; you should know. You rode him within an inch of his life last month, and he still jumped the fence to get to you, the camera chasing him and touting you to the world as Rhett Abbott's mate—his omega, at that. So much for organically reaching out and introducing your family to the man you left everything for. 

You still need to answer the bombardment of texts that have been rotting in your phone. 

Careful to avoid the hot pan, your hand darts back toward the counter, feeling around until you find something warm and round. Making extra of these has been your best idea yet.

"Then we're talking about both," you pull him in for a kiss. Swift. Chaste. And before he can lean in and seek out any more, you shove the cookie into his mouth. 

Your shirt is gone before you can leave the kitchen. 

By the time your back hits the bedroom door, his hands are disappearing below your waistband, and sickly sweet chocolate is the only thing you can taste on his lips. There are things to do. Places to be. Bags to load into the car and a map to figure out.

But you fear you've grown addicted to these grumbling kisses of his, crave the warmth of his body against yours and all of the other things that come with him. It's a hunger you've never been able to satisfy, and not another alpha will do. Not one with money. Or someone that your family hand-picked. Or someone with a fancy cologne crafted by a brand you can't pronounce the name of.

Just this one. 

[febuary30thday]

Flora, Fauna

Okay, but I'm imagining a demon reader, who uses chlorokinesis as her BDA. But the catch is that she seems so comforting and warm with no ill intention until it's too late.

She is the New Upper Moon Six as a replacement for Daki and Gyutaro, and very often interacts with the Uppermoons so they happen to go yandere for her.

This man is powerful, and he very often makes it known.

He's a cold, terrifying demon who cares very little about human emotions.

He's ruthless and strict, so he bottles up his heart

So, when he meets his....match? He's not letting go.

When you were first introduced as an Upper Moon, he didn't think much of it

He just acknowledged your presence and that was it

That changed when he stumbled upon you devouring an entire village of people, still looking elegant and poised

That surprised him slightly, normally all the demons all crazy when it comes to battle, and let themselves go

He is humble, and you ask him to join you in your feeding session.

With that elegant smile on your face, how can he say no?

You are quiet and he finds himself enjoying your presence more and more

You carry yourself in a very elegant way, and over time, he falls in love.

But then things get dark from there.

He doesn't want you to leave him, always accompanying you when you hunt for humans, using his position against you, and not allowing you to interact with the other Uppermoons, and his threats are not empty promises.

"Kokushibo, I need to leave, I'm going to go hunt."

"I'm coming with you."

"There is no need. I insist I can go by myself. I'm not going to die."

"That wasn't up for discussion."

Good luck with him.

(He is so daddy. I'm sorry, but he is)

Muzan isn't loving, he never has been

He believes he is the perfect being, and that you are an extension of his perfection

Anything you do, connects back to him

He can read your thoughts and read your emotions and actions very well, so he can basically read you like an open book

This man sees potential in you, so you receive much more blood from him, and are promoted to the status of an Uppermoon.

He's seen your blood demon art before, but can't find it important enough to remember what it is

All he remembers is your carnage and chaos he had stumbled upon as you killed the last human in the village

He didn't bother caring about you

Until once again, he stumbled upon your chaos, only this time, he got to observe it, firsthand

He watched as you danced calmly in the streets, your voice ringing a strangely sweet sound in his ears

As people came out of their homes and watched, listened to you, enraptured by your voice

It was annoying watching you, so he went to leave until he heard a scream

It ended just as abruptly as it began.

He wasn't mesmerized, but he did enjoy your rather fast and efficient way of killing, but then he watched in surprise as you placed a hand on the ground and a red spider lily bloomed

He calls you over.

"My Lord! Forgive me for not noticing your presence earlier."

My darling, please tell me, what it was that you just did.

"Please forgive me, My Lord! I didn't mean to..."

"Answer me."

"Do you mean when I bloomed the spider lily? Did that inconvenience you, My Lord?"

"Tell me, what other flowers can you bloom?"

"Anything I wish, My Lord! I just need to know what it looks like and then I can make it!"

"No matter how rare?"

"No matter how rare, Muzan-sama!"

"My dear, you've done well. I have one simple task for you, if you can complete it, I'll be extremely proud of you."

"Anything!"

"Can you make me a blue Spider Lily?"

"Yes! Of course Muzan-sama!"

Out of simple excitement, you made quite an abundance of them, and he scooped you up and the flowers with one hand an all-to-knowing smile on his face.

"Good job, my perfect darling."

You are never leaving his grasp again.

"I wonder when Muzan-sama is going to let me leave." You thought, a puzzled expression on your face.

There was a smirk on his face as he studied the flower, not truly believing that this was real, and that it was all a fever dream.

"You don't get to leave, my darling. Stay in here and be a good girl, and I'll reward you with more of my blood."

This man can't feel a thing, so when he meets you and his heart skips a beat, he is instantly intrigued

You catch his attention pretty quickly, with how humble and elegant you are in comparison to him.

This man is flashy and sort of gaudy

He follows you around like a lost puppy

So much so, that Kokushibo has started to get annoyed with Douma following around his beloved

Even if Douma was assigned by Muzan to make sure you didn't step foot outside the Infinity Castle, that doesn't mean he could be obnoxious about it

Douma is very affectionate, so expect plenty of hugs and cuddling and stuff

He is forceful in his affections but you'll just have to learn to accept that!

What? What do you mean you need to leave and go hunt?

Muzna assigned him to make sure you stay alive and healthy and never leave

Don't be stubborn now!

He also occasionally leaves kisses on your cheeks, arms, and hands

Just because he's obsessed doesn't mean he's possessive, right?

Wrong.

He is clinging to you like a baby and legitimately feels discouraged when you aren't around

He guilt-trips you a lot

Fake crying, begging, the like, he has even ripped out his heart to offer it to you

You can use his vulnerability to your advantage, like crying as well, pouting, sulking

He hates seeing you sad, and when you are sad, he does his best to reassure you, even if it means he has to leave to get you food to bring back

He showers you in affection and makes his followers worship you too, proclaiming you a goddess because of how beautiful he thinks you are

He buys you everything and anything

He offers up his prey to you so you can eat together, thinks of it as a date

He loves spoiling you, so just don't leave him, alright?

"You don't get to leave, snowflake! I have all sorts of things planned for us today! Behave, okay?"

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Full hcs for the m6 with an MC that has chronic pain (I looked through the masterlists and didn't find anything, but it's totally possible that I missed something O///O)

The Arcana HCs: MC with chronic pain

Julian

He devotes his full care and attention to every person in need of a doctor he meets and you are about to get 200% of that

Will do a full examination as soon as you're able to talk to him about it. Give him your medical history, past diagnoses, personal opinions, potential causes, and any other detail you have

Listens to every word, writing them all down so intensely that his handwriting is even less legible than usual

In the moment, there's not much he can do beyond suggesting a few alternate ways of handling it and covering you with kisses and careful, all-encompassing sympathetic hugs

In the long run, chronic pain starts to rival (if not surpass) hematology as his field of study and expertise. Pain management does get easier over time as he learns and applies more

It has also changed how he speaks about pain

The earliest example of which was when he told you that he was "intimately acquainted" with it and you misinterpreted that as him saying that he suffers from it too - you still tease him for that

Your biggest medical advocate & never loses sympathy for you

Asra

They didn't really know how much you suffered from it until your first weeks back, and then they watched as you had to relearn how to live with it. To call it nightmarish would be an understatement

So, so, so many pain easing spells and potions. His collection was already impressive for Nadia's migraines but now it's tripled

Curious to the point of almost seeming insensitive about the sensations you experience. They did, with your permission, try linking to you enough to take them on once

He didn't like it. He can handle physical discomfort well enough but he hates it with a passion and this was a horrible realization

Thoughtful and protective of your right to comfort and access to accommodation, to the point that you sometimes have to remind them that you really can handle it

Asks you every morning and through the day how your pain levels are and will adjust accordingly. Bad pain day? Leave the shop to him, here are some meds, he'll bring you breakfast in a bit

Has been known to use pain transfer spells on rude customers during your flareups - it's two birds with one stone!

Nadia

Had a hunch that it was something you experienced from the moment she met you, if only because she was dealing with constant migraines at the time and recognized the pain

Does her best to hide it from you because she doesn't want to make your pain about herself, but gets frustrated beyond measure about it. She's a fixer, and this is something she can't just fix

She does everything she can for you, of course - opening the Palace doors to anyone with knowledge on the subject, stocking up and giving you access to all of her pain management methods

But it still gnaws at her when she knows you're having a bad pain day and the most she can do is encourage you to rest and have your meals sent to you and try to get extra time to spend with you

Even more proud of you than you can tell (which is very proud). Living in pain the way you do is no easy thing and that pain being largely "invisible" only adds to what you must be going through

Very respectful of your needs. It doesn't matter if she doesn't understand why you need something right away, if you need it, you need it

Muriel

It's not something he'll confess to until you're close enough and he's comfortable admitting it, but he has his own chronic pain from his Coliseum injuries. It's not constant, but it flares up regularly

A poorly healed fracture in his wrist. Some mangled nerve endings from blunt force trauma to his ribs. A wrenched knee that never fully healed and keeps coming back like a sprain

There's another layer to the days he spends hiding in bed, lifting nothing heavier than his tiny carving tools

He never really got much medical attention when the injuries were fresh and he certainly hasn't gotten any for the pain since, but he'll share all the knowledge on natural medicine he has

And nobody knows how physical pain can get into your head like he does. He doesn't always know what to say, but he is dedicated to listening when you're struggling and helping where he can

A little slower at accepting support for his own pain (it's months, if not years, before he's comfortable with being seen for it by a doctor) but he's with you every step of the way. You're not alone

Portia

Portia is excruciatingly empathetic to you and this is not something easy for her to understand or relate to

Pain? Physical pain?? Which you can't control, or point to an obvious/visible/curable source for??? How do you not act like you're in constant pain? How have you not found a cure?

(To say that she cringes when she remembers peppering you with these questions is an understatement. What matters is that she learned and she never doubted you for a second)

She still has difficulty fully comprehending what you're going through, but once she's dragged you to her brother and gotten some action items to follow up with, supporting you gets easier

Checks in with you several times a day on schedule and keeps a list of useful questions to ask so she can understand your pain levels

Always has at least two pain meds on hand in case of a spike or flare up and will scour the markets for any ingredients that she hears will help with pain/nerve damage/inflammation

Will bring Pepi to loaf and purr on you for hours when you need to stay in bed for the day and leaves treats on the bedside table

Lucio

He relates to this more than he wants to, but his own experience is so all over the place he doesn't know how to talk about it

Sure, he had chronic pain when he was a count, it's hard to have an emergency amputation done by an inexperienced student and then a decently weighty metal prosthetic for 20 years without it

But back then he had plenty of doctors and the kinds of resources to make managing it almost easy, not to mention the parties and pleasures he indulged in constantly to distract from it

And then for three years he felt nothing - nothing at all

At this point, he'd choose the pain over the ghost form any day, but that doesn't make it easy. Hearing you talk about your pain openly helps him realize it's possible to live with, even though it's difficult

So that's what he does. He'll live with his pain, and you'll live with your pain, and you'll both wake up to it with each other for company. He can do this

He'll still go as far as threatening any medical experts he finds with their demise if they refuse to see either of you and you're not there to stop him, though

[jog-hog]

Siblings and secrets don't mix

Dipper x Pacifica

W/C: 1k+

Summary: Mabel's trying to figure out who Dipper is texting so much and finds out it's a certain popular princess of Gravity Falls.

Note: This fic is pure fluff absolutely tooth rotting also I've never posted a fic on Tumblr before I'm mainly an AO3 user so sorry for any formatting issues!

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶

Back in Gravity Falls

After the events of their first stay in Gravity Falls the twins are not only well known,semi-well-liked they have friends. Friends that come and meet them at the bus as they pull up, friends that sneak out the house to hang out with them and recently friends that text them A LOT when they're not in Gravity Falls.

Dipper had never been big on the whole phone thing instead enjoying nature whenever possible and appreciating literature and writing but recently Mabel's noticed theres been a significant rise in notifications and a very big increase in him checking them (and him showering has gone up marginally). Mabel knew what this meant.

All signs pointed to pine tree having...a girlfriend ?! Of course Mabel has been in her fair share of relationships so it's not really a shocker but Dipper? She didn't even know someone could like Dipper back!

However whenever she'd try to introduce the topic to their conversations he'd shut it down quickly... suspiciously quickly.

Heres what she knew: they texted ALL THE TIME which means they're probably not in our school since she's also caught him sneaking peaks at his phone in school, they care about Dipper showering and that's about it...he really is a stubborn one isn't he? So obviously she had to concoct a plan, dare she say a plot to look onto Dippers phone and answer the very important question: WHO ARE THEY??

As Mabel sat awake in bed trying to figure out who it was she went down her mental list of potential suitors. She knew they weren't that far, Mabel probably knows them too...

Then a lightbulb moment occured

"GRAVITY FALLS!"

She though to herself jumping up in bed, it had to be. Theres only one person, one possible person: Pacifica Northwest! Mabel couldn't believe it, she always got a vibe from the two but couldn't sell herself on it due to Candy's crush but given she's over it and that the two are texting non stop it just HAD to be Pacifica!

In the morning Mabel awoke to the sound of tapping on a phone, Dipper was awake before her which was abnormal and even stranger he was on his phone! Mabel looked at him and smirked

"Who're you texting lil bro?"

"No one!" Dipper exclaimed going red and hiding his phone away from his twin.

"Aw come on Dip we're twins we need to tell eachother everything!"

Dipper sighs going red, Mabel looks at him intently waiting for him to confirm her suspicions.

"..Well" he starts quietly "come closer I'm embarrassed" he says hiding his face in his hands. Mabel simply walks forward

"Whisper I promise I won't tell mom and dad come on!!" She begged

"I've been messaging Pacifica and..." He begins and stops just as quickly getting visibly embarrassed

"AND?" Mabel continues. "AND I think we're dating" he blurts out quickly like he's ripping a band aid off.

There's a silence until Mabel breaks it

"OH. MY. GOD" she begins rambling a mile a minute about how cute they are, begging to see the messages just to know SOMETHING, her little twin was in a relationship!

Dipper sits there laughing grabbing her after a few minutes of this intense rambling

"You can't tell anyone okay? If we tell mom and dad they won't let us go to Gravity Falls it's only a few weeks away now"

Mabel promises her silence and they go about their lives (with much more drama than once before).

On the bus ride to Gravity Falls Mabel notices some persistent texting occurring right next to her, she desperately wanted to know what they were talking about but Dipper would hide away every time she got close enough to read it. Dipper was being far too secretive about this relationship for Mabel's liking and as siblings she had to be annoying at least once on the bus ride over, at this…this was her calling.

Abruptly she snatches the phone out of Dippers hands and shoots herself to the other side of the backseats on the bus, he immediately yells at her to give it back and chases after her as she kicks him off, she begins reading and exclaims

“‘I MISS YOU SO MUCH??’ OMG ‘I LOVE YOU TOO’” she giggles looking at how adorable their conversation is as Dipper yells at her to stop, she continues anyways (as any good sibling would) until he finally manages to crawl over and grab his phone back. Mabel continues laughing as Dipper pouts.

“You need to stop doing things like that” Dipper says moping and shooting his sister a look.

“You need to stop hiding things from me nerd” Mabel says back, shooting him the same look but with a smug grin on her face.

Dipper still looked a bit upset, she realised she probably went a bit too far by reading it out, her smug smile dropped as she looked down at the ground and played with her sweater.

As the awkward silence grows Mabel pierces it again.

“Awkward sibling hug?” She proposes looking at him with a sympathetic ‘this is for real’ look on her face stretching her arms out toward him.

Dippers face breaks it's serious expression and a small smile creeps onto his face, exhaling and turning to face his sister.

“Awkward sibling hug” he says while quietly chuckling and messing with her hair after the semi-robotic “Pat Pat”.

Mabel laughs realizing they're near their real home Gravity Falls and naturally she takes her opportunity:

“We're close to getting off and seeing your new GIRLFRIE-” she says the last bit loudly even though there is no one on the bus at this point except for the poor bus driver who's had to witness all this. Dipper quickly puts his hand over her mouth and pulls away before she licks his palm (again). As they pull up Mabel notices how Dipper immediately scans the crowd for Pacifica as they make eye contact.

“They really like each other don't they ?” Mabel thinks to herself as she smiles and grabs her bags.

The two can't wait for another beautiful and terrifyingly strange summer in Gravity Falls.

[tainsan]

misfits XI

⇥ pairing: ot8 ateez x fem! reader

⇥ warnings: mentions of suicide, mentions of therapy, self deprication, mature scene but it's not crazy

⇥ word count: 9.5k

⇥ a/n: okay i know you have all been looking foward to this chapter, it is an intense one and i hope yall finally enjoy some much needed romantic tension ;-;

⇥ this chapter is for my wife @l0vetiny, ilysm!!!

⇢ masterlist ⇠

previous chapter ⇠ ⇢ next chapter

--- THIS IS AN 18+ FANFICTION MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ---

Resting in your room, you stand at the crossroads of your emotions, torn between the familiarity of cherished friendships and the allure of a potential romantic relationship. The idea of taking that leap excites and terrifies you, as it means venturing into uncharted territory with people you've known and admired for years.

Whenever you look at your group of friends, you can't help but feel a tinge of envy towards their popularity. They seem to effortlessly navigate social situations and grab attention wherever they go. Would you be able to handle the spotlight that inevitably comes with being associated with them in a romantic capacity? You know about their jealous fans, and the attention you would most definitely receive upon starting a relationship. Not to mention the rumours and bad words that would be spread once someone finds out you aren’t just in a relationship with one of them, yet all of them.

Trust is the foundation of any relationship, and you know that building it anew on different grounds will be a crucial step. In the depths of your heart, you yearn for something more with them, to explore a connection that goes beyond friendship. Their laughter, the inside jokes you share, and the way they understand you have always made your heart skip a beat. Yet, the fear of jeopardising your bond keeps you hesitating, wondering if you can afford to risk what you already have.

You battle with your own insecurities, questioning whether you're ready for the rollercoaster of emotions that a romantic relationship might bring. Are you enough? Can you handle the weight of their expectations? The prospect of letting them down frightens you, and you're afraid of losing not only a romantic partner but also your close friends.

The truth is, you think you want this relationship, yet you acknowledge that timing is everything. The decision weighs heavily on you, and you need to be certain in your heart before taking the plunge. You owe it to yourself and to them to be genuine, vulnerable, and ready to embrace the changes this choice will bring.

You decide to step away from your bed for a moment, feeling the weight of your emotions overwhelming you. Making your way to the bathroom, you start your nighttime routine, pausing for a few seconds to look at the bottle of moisturiser, bringing a flood of thoughts of Yunho to your head. 

Yunho has changed so much since the day you first saw him in the kitchen. His transformation has been quite remarkable. You can't help but reflect on how he's evolved since your trip to the store for your moisturiser. Initially, he appeared rude, his demeanour shrouded in a kind of icy reserve. It was almost as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

However, as time passed, you noticed the shift in his demeanour. When you went to the furniture store together, it was like the walls he'd built around himself were slowly coming down. Yunho's newfound warmth towards you is reminiscent of the time from your high school days, when you sought refuge from the troubles at home and found peace in the warehouse, where he discovered you alone.

Back then, you were both navigating the challenges of adolescence, and life had already presented you with your fair share of hardships. It was in those moments of solitude, away from the chaos of your respective lives, that you forged a unique connection. Yunho, with his quiet strength and understanding, had become a source of comfort and support during those difficult times.

The memories of those moments still linger, etched in the corners of your mind. Now, as you both find yourselves facing the complexities of adulthood, it's heartening to see that the genuine care and compassion that existed between you during those formative years has resurfaced.

Since the heart-to-heart conversation in the kitchen, where the weight of secrets were finally lifted, Yunho has transformed before your eyes. He's become someone almost unfamiliar to you, but in the most delightful way.

It's as if the depths of your conversation unleashed a new side of him, a side that perhaps he had kept hidden or hadn't fully embraced until now. The Yunho you're getting to know is a true gentleman, a man who takes the time to say sweet things to you, even if his cheeks and ears turn a delightful shade of crimson in the process.

Shaking off the thoughts you look into the mirror, peering at your reflection with a mix of uncertainty and self-doubt. As you gaze at yourself, a flood of insecurities surfaces. You scrutinise every detail, the lines on your face, the curve of your lips, the way your eyes crinkle when you smile. Negative thoughts swirl in your mind like a tempest, questioning whether you're worthy of love from such amazing individuals.

You wonder if they see the same flaws you do, if they'll be disappointed when they look at you more closely, or if they'll realise you're not as perfect as they might have thought. It's a daunting prospect to believe that someone could genuinely care for you, especially when surrounded by a circle of friends who seem to radiate charm and confidence.

The fear of rejection and judgement gnaws at you, threatening to sabotage the happiness you yearn for. You can't help but compare yourself to them, feeling like you're an outsider in their world of popularity and allure. It's as if a little voice inside your head tells you that you'll never truly belong, that you're not good enough to deserve their love and affection.

Tears blur your vision as you try to silence the self-criticism, the lingering doubts that seem to echo through your mind. You question whether you'll ever be ready for a relationship with them, wondering if your insecurities will push them away, destroying the friendship you hold so dear.

Moving yourself from the bathroom, you attempt to find a moment of peace to collect your thoughts. Finding refuge in the comfort of your bedroom, you close the bathroom door behind you and sit down on the floor in the centre of the room, feeling the weight of hesitation settling upon your shoulders.

Taking a deep breath, you're confronted by a flood of thoughts about your mental health issues, trauma, and the complex needs you carry within you. The struggle with anxiety, the lingering effects of past experiences, and the emotional scars that sometimes feel too heavy to bear; they all come rushing back, demanding your attention.

In the midst of this emotional whirlwind, a surge of doubt grips you. You begin to question if the boys you have grown to love, who seem to have it all together, would truly be capable of handling the intricacies of your mental health journey. Would they understand when anxiety creeps in, leaving you paralyzed with fear? Could they be patient and supportive when the shadows of your past cast their long shadows over your present?

It's an agitated storm of self-doubt, wondering if your needs might be too much for them to bear. The fear of burdening them with your struggles gnaws at your heart, and you find yourself grappling with the thought that you might not be deserving of their love and care. You so desperately wish to be happy, and the happiness you feel when you are around the boys is stronger than you have ever felt before. You definitely need to talk to Jisung about this, his advice always seeming to relieve the pressure off your heavy heart.

Today you only expected to confront the eight men about the past, finding out answers and you seem to have got more than you bargained for. One part of you is glad you know their affections towards you, yet one half is torn from having to make the decision.

With your room being shrouded in darkness, the only source of light being the faint moonlight filtering through the curtains, you try to relax on the floor, your knees pulled close to your chest, surrounded by the whirlwind of emotions swirling within. You know you should be getting to bed, sleeping for the next day which holds lectures withholding important information. Time seems to stand still as you replay the heartfelt words spoken by the eight men. 

Amidst the turmoil of your mind, there is a sudden knock on your door. Startled, you glance at the entrance, your heart pounding in your chest. Hesitating to answer, the door slowly creaks open for you, revealing the silhouette of Seonghwa standing there, his expression mirroring the same restlessness that is keeping you awake.

“Can I come in?” Seonghwa quietly asks, scared to be turned down, yet as he sees the gentle smile and nod cover your features, accepting the invitation, the man makes his way in. Stepping into the room and closing the door behind him, his presence brings both comfort and a further storm to your heart, as the confession resurfaces in your mind.

"Mingi and I just got back from managing the bar, but I can't sleep," Seonghwa says softly, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

His honesty only deepens the emotional turbulence inside. You are grappling with the same uncertainty, the same fear of what the future may hold.

“Come sit with me,” you say, hoping he will relax next to you.

As he settles down beside you on the floor, there is a moment of silence, both of you lost in your own thoughts. The room is filled with a mixture of emotions – the lines of friendship blurring before your eyes.

“You don't find it weird do you?” Seonghwa says breaking the heavy tension that suddenly coated the room.

“Find what weird?” You question, not sure as to what Seonghwa is asking.

“Us being together, as nine.”

You realise Seonghwa is inquiring about the group's dynamic and relationship. 

“Not really…” you start, not knowing if you should disclose your worries with Seonghwa, yet when you see the pleading look on his features, you feel your walls breaking, “honestly I'm just worrying whether I'll fit in, you guys are so close. I don't know if I will be able to be good enough for you guys.” You admit, feeling slightly embarrassed to be admitting such information.

“___,” Seonghwa says your name softly, feeling awfully upset you would even think you weren't good enough to be with them. “You are perfect for us, you don't need to worry about anything. There is nothing you could ever do that would make us think you don't belong with us. If anything, we don't deserve you. The kindness you have shown us, despite the rumours, despite everything has shown us enough. Whether it is with us or not, we just want you to be happy, you deserve to be happy.”

Gently, you cast a grateful glance towards Seonghwa, feeling a rush of emotions as his words wash over you. They bring both comfort and solace, embracing you in a tender embrace of understanding and support. It stays silent for a while as you let his words touch your heart. 

“I’m doing better…” Seonghwa says, once again breaking the silence and you wonder as to why he suddenly uttered those specific words.

When you shoot him a perplexed glance, Seonghwa responds with a soft chuckle, sensing your confusion. He then proceeds to clarify his statement with a reassuring tone.

“Back when you found me on the rooftop…” Seonghwa trails off as he sees the way you hold your breath reminiscing the night, he relaxes slightly as you nod at him to continue, ignoring the sudden surge of negative emotions clouding your vision. 

“The boys encouraged me to seek help. I was feeling so lost and overwhelmed, like I was carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. But I took that first step, and it changed everything. My therapist helped me understand myself on a level I never thought possible,” Seonghwa pauses, trying to gauge your reaction.

“I’m so happy for you Seonghwa, truly. That is amazing.” Seonghwa helping himself, becoming better and finally feeling alive truly brings happiness to your soul. 

“When I heard you were in this school, I was really nervous at first, I was scared you were going to see me as the guy from high school who was constantly bothering you.”

Seonghwa huckles along with you, the shared laughter carries the weight of old memories and newfound understanding. You can't help but reminisce about the times when Seonghwa would follow you around school like a loyal companion, a testament to his friendship, even if it did sometimes border on being a little bothersome.

“I was worried you were going to be a different person completely, but when I saw you again for the first time in years, even though you have changed physically, you were definitely still the same.”

“What do you mean?” You question, not sure what his words mean.

“Your laugh, your voice, your humour, your kindness, your eyes. They are all the same as back then. But your eyes, they are brighter now, happier. You are just as, if not, even more, beautiful.” Seonghwa admits, “I don’t think I can lose you again.”

Silence falls upon the two of you as you let the tender words of the man in front of you sink in. The words of love play with your heartstrings, making your end decision even more daunting.

"I don't know what to do," you finally whisper, your voice breaking and Seonghwa immediately realises you are speaking of the confession and proposition, “I like you, all of you, yet it just seems so fast, so new.”

Seonghwa listens to your confession and when he senses the depth of your reciprocated feelings, a whirlwind of emotions engulfs him. He feels like he's floating on cloud nine, as if he's on the brink of something incredibly special and profound. Your words have touched him in a way that nothing else ever has. It's a feeling of euphoria, knowing that the person he cares about so deeply shares those same sentiments.

However, beneath this elation, he also senses the subtle undercurrent of fear and hesitation in you. It's completely understandable after so many years of being apart. The prospect of starting a new chapter, especially one as significant as a romantic relationship, can indeed be daunting. Seonghwa empathises with your feelings entirely.

Yet, despite the uncertainty and the challenges that lie ahead, he can't help but yearn for your affection and the chance to call you his own. The connection you share, one that has spanned years and endured the test of time, is something he cherishes deeply.

In Seonghwa's chest, his heart beats with a mixture of excitement and patience. He knows that these things take time, and he's willing to take it one step at a time with you, ensuring that you both feel comfortable and secure in whatever path you choose to explore. For now, he's content with the knowledge that the feelings are mutual, and he's looking forward to seeing where this newfound chapter of your connection will lead.

Seonghwa instinctively reaches for your hand, his touch warm and reassuring, yet as you remember the confession once more, the action of affection makes your reaction extreme, your cheeks heating up, your heart racing faster than usual. 

"We don't have to figure it all out right now," he says gently. "Let's take our time. We'll figure it out together."

“It’s just… I’m still trying to process that you guys are still alive, now I have something else to think about, it all seems too much.”

Seonghwa continues to listen to you and he can almost feel the waves of unease radiating from your very being. It's a raw and vulnerable moment, and he wishes deeply that he could find a way to ease the emotional storm surging behind your eyes.

Unconsciously, his fingers begin to play with yours tenderly. It's a small, comforting gesture, a silent reassurance that he's here, he's present, and he's ready to support you in whatever way you need.

At this moment, Seonghwa isn't focused on any hurry or pressure to define your relationship. Instead, he's fully attuned to your emotions, your concerns, and your hesitations. He knows that sometimes, the most valuable thing he can offer is his patient understanding and unwavering support.

“I’m sorry for not finding you sooner.” He finally speaks, his voice starting to break as he feels his throat tighten up, “I was so lost without you.”

The moment Seonghwa utters those words, you can hear the raw emotion in his voice, and you can see the sincerity in his eyes. His admission that he was lost without you hits you deeply, and it's impossible not to feel the depth of his emotions. The warmth of your touch is a silent reassurance, letting him know that you understand that you've also carried your own share of longing and uncertainty.

"I'm here now," you say softly, your voice filled with understanding and compassion. "Sometimes life takes us on different paths, but we find our way back to the people who matter most."

Seonghwa's eyes glisten with unshed tears, and he nods, his thumb caressing the back of your hand. In this moment of shared vulnerability, you both find comfort in each other's presence, knowing that the past is behind you and the future is filled with possibility.

“Seonghwa,” You begin to call the man’s name, recognising the way he is starting to succumb to his emotions.

“There is not a single day that went by without us regretting leaving you. We just had to make sure it was safe for you before we came back.”

His heartfelt words pierce your heart, leaving your mind a mess.

“It’s okay, I’m here now. I won’t leave you, any of you.”

In the hushed stillness of the room, you raise the hand that was resting underneath his, to delicately caress Seonghwa's cheek, cupping it tenderly. Your touch is gentle, like a soothing relief to his heartache. With a soft stroke of your thumb, you wipe away the tears cascading down his beautiful face, a gesture of comfort that speaks volumes.

When you reach your other hand to cup his entire face, the sensation sends shivers down his spine. The tenderness of your touch makes his heart race with a mixture of emotions. It feels like it has been an eternity since he felt the warmth of your hands on his skin, and in this moment, it feels like an unsaid accomplishment, a connection he had yearned for, an action he has only seen in his dreams, finally being a reality brings warmth to his entire soul.

Tears continue to fall from his eyes, but your presence, your touch, makes him feel seen and understood in a way he has never imagined, yet he no longer knows if the tears are from sorrow or pure happiness. It's as if the weight of his emotions can finally be shared, knowing that you are there to offer solace and support. In the quiet intimacy of this moment, he finds himself silently thanking fate for bringing him to your room tonight.

The world seems to fade away as Seonghwa places his hands gently on top of yours, his touch sending a rush of warmth through your entire being. In this tender moment, you become highly aware of the intimate proximity between the two of you. Your faces mere inches apart, and as you lock eyes with him, time seems to stand still.

Despite the urge to move away, your body seems to have a will of its own, keeping you locked in this position. It's as if the universe conspired to bring you together in this moment, and you find yourself unable to resist the magnetic pull drawing you closer to him.

The softness of his gaze, the way his eyes seem to hold a world of unspoken emotions, leaves you captivated. In this delicate embrace, you feel a sense of vulnerability, as if a barrier that once separated you has been lifted, allowing your hearts to commune in a profound and intimate way.

The air around you is charged with unspoken desires and untamed emotions. Your heart races, torn between the familiarity of friendship and the allure of something more. There is a soft tension in the air, like a dance between two souls on the precipice of a love that has been silently blooming.

Continuing to gaze into each other's eyes, the depth of your connection becomes undeniable. It's a moment of reckoning, where you know you must confront the feelings that have been swirling within you both. Yet, in this suspended moment, the fear of the unknown fades, replaced by serene acceptance of the present.

In this captivating scene, you allow yourself to be immersed in the depth of your emotions, knowing that there is also beauty in the uncertainty, in the uncharted territories of the heart. As you share this intimate space with Seonghwa, you feel a sense of wonder, a willingness to explore the unspoken desires that have led you to this enchanting moment.

As the air crackles with unspoken desires, a gentle breeze seems to sweep through the room, carrying an air of anticipation. Neither of you can deny the magnetic pull drawing you closer, and in this intimate moment, you both surrender to the unspoken feelings that have been lingering between you.

“____,” Seonghwa calls your name softly, gazing deeply into your eyes, “I don’t know if I can live without you.”

Staying silent, you aren’t too sure how to respond, the heaviness of the confession making you too flustered to respond.

“You don’t have to say anything, I just needed you to know.”

Seonghwa's hands remain atop yours, his touch a comforting anchor as you lean in ever so slightly.

“Hwa.” You catch the man’s attention with the old nickname, making his heart race even quicker in his chest. Feeling confident, you slowly start to close the gap between your lips, until they are just a breath away from each other. 

“Can I…” Seonghwa begins before taking a deep, nervous breath in, “kiss you?” Seonghwa whispers, centimetres away from your lips. It takes you less than a few seconds to reply, even though your heart is beating out of your chest, you gently accept. 

With a mix of nervousness and excitement, you close your eyes, savouring the tingling anticipation that courses through your veins.In this suspended moment, time ceases to exist as your lips finally meet in a tender kiss. It's a soft and hesitant exploration, as if both of you are testing the waters of this new intimacy. The touch of his lips against yours sends a quake of delight down your spine, igniting a warmth in your heart that you can't quite put into words. His lips are soft as they move slowly against yours, testing the waters, seeing what you are comfortable with.

Instinctively your bodies draw closer, seeking relief in each other's embrace. The world outside fades away as you lose yourselves in the intoxicating taste of his plump lips. Finding yourself getting drunk off of the way his lips feel against yours, you hesitantly pull away, scared that you will fall in too deep, or make Seonghwa uncomfortable with the sudden rush of love and lust that you begin to feel.

Pulling away, your eyes meet once again with Seonghwa’s brown ones, and you are shocked by the sight. His usual round, soft eyes, now blown out and hooded, an indescribable emotion coursing through his veins.

Before you can utter a single word, you find yourself enveloped in Seonghwa's embrace, his strong arms securely wrapping around your waist as he effortlessly lifts you onto his lap. Your legs settle on either side of his body, the soft carpet cushioning your knees as your chest presses flat against his. The closeness of your bodies sends a surge of electricity through you, and yet, there is an overwhelming sense of comfort in this intimate position.

Gazing into Seonghwa's eyes, you see a mix of desire, lust and tenderness reflected in his gaze. He's careful to gauge your reaction, making sure you are comfortable with this new closeness. Without hesitation, you offer him a reassuring smile, your heart pounding with excitement and anticipation.

When his lips find yours once more, and this time the kiss is less gentle, Seonghwa’s tongue poking at the entrance of your mouth, and you feel an unspoken longing and passion. It's a connection that feels natural and familiar, as if your souls have been searching for this closeness all along. The way his warm lips caress yours is powerful, and you find yourself melting into the embrace, savouring the sensation of being so close to him. The kiss becomes messy as you allow his tongue to enter your mouth, dancing together as you press your body closely against his. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around Seonghwa’s neck, tilting your head to further deepen the intense kiss.

Seonghwa's arms encircle you, holding you close as if he never wants to let go. The world around you seems to fade away, and all that matters is the intimacy of this moment and the way his lips fit so perfectly against yours, the way his touch makes you feel cherished, adored, and hot, so hot.

As the kiss deepens, the boundaries between friendship and something more blur, and you realise that this is a connection that goes beyond labels and definitions. It's a love that defies explanation, a bond that has been quietly growing between you for years.

Seonghwa's touch ignites a fire within you, and you find yourself craving more of his affection, his warmth, his love. It's a feeling that is both thrilling and comforting, like coming home to the one person who understands you in a way no one else can.

His arms begin to rub up and down your back, gently passing underneath your night shirt and landing on your bare hips, gently caressing the bare skin. The warmth of his hands causes a small gasp to emit from your throat, jolting you slightly, making your hips rub gently against Seonghwa’s crotch.

“Fuck, angel.” Seonghwa's low groan reverberates through both of you, the sudden nickname sending shivers down your spine, straight to your core. The way he pulls you even closer, wrapping his arms, still underneath your shirt, tightly around your waist, creates an intoxicating sensation that leaves you breathless. Your skin pressed against his feels like a perfect fit, as if you were always meant to be in this embrace. The raw intimacy of the moment leaves both of you feeling lost in a whirlwind of emotions and sensations.

Seonghwa pulls away from your lips, and you are about to protest, yet the complaints die in your throat as his lips trail to the curve of your neck causing your heart to race, your senses heightened by every touch. He peppers small kisses down the curve of your neck, gently nibbling on the flesh.

The world around you fades into the background, and all that exists is you and Seonghwa. His hands explore the contours of your body with a gentleness that contrasts with the intensity of his desires. Every caress and every whisper of his breath against your skin ignites a fire within you, and you find yourself surrendering to the passion that courses through your veins.

“Seonghwa,” you whisper, your voice almost getting caught in your throat.

“Yes, angel?” Seonghwa mutters against the skin of your neck.

Unconsciously, the nickname causes you to move your hips against the males, desperately wanting a reaction from him. The deep groan that reverberates from his throat leaves you both satisfied and craving for more simultaneously.

“___,” Seonghwa stutters out, the sudden boldness of your movements leaving his head spinning, “we should stop,” 

Pulling away slowly, you give him a worried look, hoping dreadfully you haven't crossed a boundary. Seonghwa gently chuckles at the cute look on your face.

Pinching your cheek softly, he speaks again, “we just started, I want to take my time with you.”

Seonghwa's statement washes over you like a gentle wave, stirring up a delightful mix of excitement and nervousness that sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Without hesitation, he draws you close once more, enveloping you in a comforting embrace that radiates warmth and affection. As you rest your head in the crook of his neck, you find yourself basking in the tender intimacy of the moment, cherishing the precious connection you share.

“You should get to sleep, we are going shopping early tomorrow.” Seonghwa’s deep voice reverberates in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

“Are we going shopping?” You question, feeling a sudden rush of sleepiness overcoming your senses. 

Nuzzling your head even closer into the crook of Seonghwa's neck, you sense the gentle thump of his heart escalating, mirroring the accelerated rhythm of your own. Although you can’t see it, Seonghwa’s cheeks are a blazing hot shade of red as he tries to calm himself from going further. He realises that pushing you to do something when you're already confused is not the right option. As much as Seonghwa wishes to take you, claim you right here, like he has been dreaming for years, he waits patiently, not wanting to overwhelm you. The lingering effect of the shared kiss intensifies the moment, making it all the more electrifying and unforgettable.

"Let's get you to bed, angel," Seonghwa whispers tenderly, his hold around your waist tightening as he firmly presses your body against his own, lifting you both effortlessly from the floor. Your legs instinctively coil around his waist, and as he carries you towards the bed, the red blush intensifies on Seonghwa's cheeks, his heart racing with every step. The intimate closeness and the warmth of the moment leave him adorably flustered, but his focus remains on ensuring your comfort and care.

Tucking you in the blankets, he sits by the side of your bed, watching your weary form with a violent blush  and a wide smile covering his entire face. 

"Goodnight, Seonghwa," you mumble softly, settling into the cosy embrace of your pillow. Witnessing your endearing gesture, Seonghwa feels his heart swell with affection, amazed at how he could fall even deeper for you, a feeling he once thought was impossible. As he watches over you, he can't help but feel grateful for the precious moments shared and the special connection that continues to grow between the two of you. With a gentle smile, he lingers for a moment, savouring the sight of you before finally whispering his own goodnight, his heart full of fondness and admiration. Departing from your bedroom with a satisfied smile on his face, Seonghwa heads straight for his bathroom, desperately needing a cold shower to calm his thoughts of you situated in his lap, looking so pretty. He definitely needs to clear those thoughts before he finds himself running back to your bedroom.

----

The soft morning light gently filters through the curtains, causing you stir from your slumber, a warm and blissful feeling spreading through your entire being. You can't help but smile as the memory of the tender kiss you shared with Seonghwa last night floods your mind, filling you with a sense of giddiness and butterflies in your stomach. The way his lips touched yours lingers in your thoughts, leaving you feeling loved and cherished.

With a contented sigh, you stretch your limbs beneath the soft sheets and sit up, the room enveloped in a soft glow that seems to match the radiance in your heart. You can't wait to see your roommates, to share the joy of this morning with them and bask in the warmth of their presence.

Getting up from your bed, the floor feels cool against your feet, contrasting with the warmth in your heart. You take your time getting ready, savouring each moment as you brush your hair and wash your face. There's an air of excitement and anticipation building within you, eager to embrace the day ahead and the company of your dear roommates.

Making your way to the kitchen, the aroma of breakfast fills the air, and your senses are treated to a delightful feast. To your delight, all eight of your friends are gathered at the counter, and you can't help but notice that they all look particularly handsome today, their smiles radiant and welcoming. You aren't sure if it is because of their confession yesterday, or if they always look this good, but something has changed. The sight of them all waiting for you warms your heart, and you feel a mix of gratitude and affection for each member of the group. It's a feeling of belonging and togetherness that washes over you, reinforcing the deep bond you share with them.

Unconsciously, you gravitate towards Seonghwa, the events of last night still at the front of your mind, who beams at your approach with that charming smile that has a way of melting your heart. His eyes light up when he sees you, and the affection in his gaze makes you feel like the most cherished person in the world. 

When you get close to him, he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, causing a small yelp of surprise to leave your mouth, the action catching you off guard making you feel awfully warm in the face.

What surprises you is that neither of the seven men around you even flinch, though they send a questioning look to Seonghwa who just gently shrugs, an amused, smug expression gracing his features as he holds you close to him, addicted to the way your body feels against him. 

Unbeknownst to you, yesterday night was very difficult for Seonghwa. In the quiet hours after your time together, his thoughts were consumed by an intense longing. The memory of your closeness lingered, and his yearning for the touch of your body against his became almost overwhelming. Throughout the night, a compelling desire took hold of him, urging him to find any possible way to feel your presence once more. 

He found himself on the brink of leaving his own room multiple times, his heart urging him to seek the physical connection he so deeply carved from you. Each time, he would pull back, reminding himself of the boundaries and the need to respect your space. It was a struggle that played out repeatedly throughout the night, a battle between his longing and his determination to be patient and considerate. Yet now you are here, with your consent, he doesn't feel the need to hold back, wanting to touch you in any way possible.

When you take your seat at the counter, you can't help but notice a bowl of your favourite breakfast waiting for you, a thoughtful gesture from Wooyoung that fills you with warmth. The gesture speaks volumes of the care and consideration your friends have for you, and you feel incredibly fortunate to be surrounded by such loving and attentive individuals.

“I hope it tastes nice.” Wooyoung says, a shy tone to his voice that has you surprised, wondering where his usual flirty, playful self is.

"I'm sure it's lovely, Woo," you reply with a playful tone, using the endearing nickname that sends delightful shivers cascading down Wooyoung's spine. The affectionate term fills his chest with pride and joy, revelling in the fact that you chose a cute name to address him. The sweet exchange between the two of you leaves Wooyoung with a heartwarming sense of happiness and admiration for you.

Munching away on the food, you allow yourself to completely relax as the flavours of the food warm and caress your tongue.

"Are you coming to the mall with us today?" Yeosang is situated on the other side of you and asks in a hushed tone, his eyes filled with hope as he awaits your response. Meanwhile, the other seven members are deeply engrossed in a somewhat serious yet lighthearted debate about whether butts are considered as two or one. Despite their lively discussion, Yeosang remains focused on your answer, eager for you to join them on the outing.

"Yes, I think so. I desperately need some new clothes," you reply with a smile, feeling the warmth of Yeosang’s undivided attention as he turns his entire body towards you, clearly focused on your words. The genuine interest he shows in your plans for the day brings a sense of connection, making you even more eager to spend time with the group. Excitement builds as you look forward to the fun outing with your friends, hoping it will be a memorable day spent together.

Yet something suddenly nags at your mind, causing you to feel a little vulnerable. “Aren't you worried about being seen with me in public? I don't think people would be happy with me being around you.”

“We don't care what people think, you are one of us.” he says, his tone soft as he peers at your flustered reaction, a smile graces his face.

You feel a rush of flustered emotions as you notice Yeosang's gaze lingering on your lips before returning to your eyes. The memory of the kiss shared with Seonghwa last night briefly crosses your mind, sparking curiosity about what it might be like to kiss the others. However, you quickly push those thoughts away, not wanting to get carried away and get your hopes up too high.

Yeosang, seemingly pleased with your reaction, gently smirks before turning back to the group. Little does he know, his actions have left you feeling even more flustered. As you watch him, you can't help but wonder how he might flirt with you and what that could lead to. The possibility of such interactions excites you, but you also remind yourself to be cautious and not read too much into it.

In his own silent moment, Yeosang decides to take some pointers from Wooyoung on flirting, hoping to make you smile and blush like this forever. The prospect of seeing your cute flustered face becomes a delightful goal, one he can't wait to achieve.

----

The late morning sun casts a golden glow on the bustling streets as you and your roommates step out of the white house. Due to the large shopping mall being a short walk away, the nine of you decide to walk there to enjoy the warm sun, the excitement in the air is palpable. You had mentioned that you needed some new clothes, and the eight men were more than eager to join you on this shopping adventure.

Walking to the mall turned out to be quite the amusing experience. As the group strolled along, you found yourself at the back, flanked by Wooyoung and San, who adamantly refused to let anyone else take their spot next to you. Their sweet insistence brought a warm blush to your cheeks, and you couldn't help but feel flattered by their attention.

Seonghwa and Mingi, not ones to back down easily, bickered with Wooyoung and San, each vying for the chance to be by your side during the walk there. The friendly competition for your company added a playful dynamic to the group, and even Hongjoong couldn't resist getting involved, trying to mediate the situation.

In the end, Hongjoong managed to calm the playful dispute, promising Seonghwa, Mingi, and the others that they could take turns to walk with you on the way back home. Although the rest of the group may have been sulking slightly at not being able to be next to you now, they all understood the importance of sharing the time with you and were happy to have their chance later.

Arriving at the grand entrance of the shopping mall, your eyes widen in awe. The place is massive, with countless stores, boutiques, and displays that promise a shopping experience like no other. You are not able to contain your excitement and feel a flutter of anticipation in your chest.

Strolling through the mall, the group seems to split into smaller clusters, each one of your roommates offering to accompany you to different sections based on your fashion preferences. 

“Are you guys sure you don't need anything?” You question for the third time as they refuse to look in any shop that you walk past.

Upon hearing a chorus of playful "no's" filling the air, you can't help but roll your eyes with a mixture of amusement and affection. Their stubbornness to stay by your side, despite knowing it makes your heart race, only serves to make you appreciate their care and attention even more. It's endearing to see how much they value being with you, and while their determination might fluster you, it also warms your heart to know how cherished you are within the group.

When you reach a particular clothing store, which you usually shop at, you are happy to see they have sales on a lot of clothes. Making your way in, you giggle at the way the eight aimlessly follow you in. They disperse slightly, looking at many different clothing racks, searching for something that would suit you, or something they would like to see you wearing.

Wandering through the racks of clothes, you notice Wooyoung seems particularly focused. He keeps scanning the dresses with a determined expression, occasionally pulling one off the rack to examine it closely. It's clear that he's on a mission, and you can't help but wonder what he's up to.

"Hey, Wooyoung, find anything interesting?" you question, curious about his intent.

Wooyoung turns to you with a mischievous grin, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Oh, just looking for something special," he replies cryptically.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued by his mysterious response. The boys exchange knowing glances, clearly in on whatever plan Wooyoung has hatched. It seems as if they have a small mission in their minds.

A little while later, Wooyoung finally emerges from the racks of dresses, triumphantly holding one up for you to see. "Look! This would look stunning on you," Wooyoung, exclaims, holding up a beautiful black dress that caught his eye. It definitely isn't your style, so you wonder as to why he would ask you to try it on.

You examine the short, form-fitting dress that Wooyoung kindly offered, you realise it's not your usual style, and you feel hesitant about trying it on, especially since it's on the sexier side and not something you'd typically wear. Before you can politely decline, San appears at your side, expressing his agreement with Wooyoung's suggestion. He wraps an arm around your shoulder in a tender gesture, encouraging you to give it a try while also assuring you that it's entirely your choice.

Touched by their compliments and support, you gently accept the dress, feeling grateful for their thoughtfulness. With a slightly doubtful smile, you make your way to the changing room, and to your surprise, you notice that all of them follow you eagerly, clearly invested in how you'll look in the dress. 

“Guys you don't all need to come.” You exclaim, chuckling at their eagerness, “it’s just a dress.”

“We have never seen you in a dress before,” Mingi replies, an adorable pout on his face, the others agreeing with him. Chuckling again, you turn around to walk into the changing room. Inside the changing room, you slip into the dress, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. You realise this must've been their plan and you chuckle to yourself at the thought of them conspiring for this very moment. It gives you a boost of confidence knowing they are eager to see you dressed up nicely.

Standing in the changing room, you find yourself struggling to reach the zipper on the back of the dress, you let out a small groan of frustration. You contemplate taking the dress off and giving up on the idea of trying it on. However, in that moment, a mischievous idea crosses your mind, and a playful smirk appears on your face.

Deciding to have a little fun with the situation, you poke your head out of the changing room, leaving the zipper undone deliberately and you see eight faces waiting patiently. 

You gently call out to the men outside, "Hey, I might need a little help here."

San, Wooyoung, and the others glance your way, and their eyes widen when they notice your insinuations. Instantly, they catch on to your playful game, and a mischievous glint appears in their eyes as well.

Wooyoung quickly volunteers, stepping forward with a grin, "I'll help!"

The others slightly grumble, falling back into their seats as you allow Wooyoung to make his way into the changing room, where you hold up the dress with your arms. Noticing the way Wooyoung's eyes are chasing your form up and down, you feel a surge of confidence rush through your body. Maybe trying on this dress wasn't such a bad idea after all. 

With a teasing smile, you turn around, allowing Wooyoung to reach for the zipper. As his fingers brush against your bare back while he gently pulls up the zipper, a shiver runs down your spine, and you can't help but exchange a knowing look with him through the mirror. When his eyes meet yours, you notice the dark look coating his eyes, making your knees feel weak. 

“How does it look?” You whisper, suddenly feeling a little insecure at how tight the dress is. 

Wooyoung's fingers glide slowly from the zipper of the dress to your hips, where he gently pulls you closer against his body, his chest now pressed against your back. The proximity between you two sends a shiver through your body, and your heart races with a mixture of excitement and anticipation.

His hands gently massage your hips, and Wooyoung can't help but revel in the sensation of your touch against his skin. The way your bodies fit together creates a warm and intimate connection that has him feeling drunk off of your touch. He suddenly feels immensely grateful that you trusted him to come into the dressing room, along with letting him see you in the dress first. 

“It looks amazing,” Wooyoung whispers in your ear, his lips brushing your earlobe, he continues, “You’d look better without it.” His words cause another shiver to ripple through your body, the insinuations of his words has your head spinning.

“Wooyoung, behave.” Hongjoong’s authoritative voice sounds from behind the curtain of the dressing room and you realise that the seven on the other side must have heard what Wooyoung uttered.

Playfully rolling his eyes, Wooyoung reluctantly moves away from your body, grumbling under his breath. Once the curtain opens, you turn around to face the group, playfully twirling in the dress, feeling a newfound confidence and excitement. 

Emerging from the fitting room, you're greeted by a symphony of reactions from your roommates. Mingi and Seonghwa’s expressions border on awe, their mouths hanging slightly agape as they drink in the way the dress contours your figure. Yeosang and Jongho, aware of their own reactions, quickly avert their gaze, trying to avoid any obvious signs of their appreciation for the dress on you.

Yunho and San's widened eyes trace your silhouette, an unspoken admiration evident in their glances. They want you to feel comfortable but can't help conveying how striking you look, their stare piercing you. Hongjoong, known for his unreadable demeanour, studies you intently, his features carefully neutral. When your curious gaze meets his, he raises an eyebrow in a challenge, his lips curling into a smirk as he openly checks you out.

In a playful move, you send a teasing wink his way, a side of you he rarely witnesses. The effect is immediate, causing a noticeable flush to creep up Hongjoong's cheeks. His eyes widen slightly in surprise at your flirtatious gesture, and you can practically see the wheels turning in his mind. Your unexpected action has triggered a shift in his usually composed demeanour, stirring a rush of thoughts and feelings that he's unaccustomed to.

The contrast between your usual innocence and this unexpected flirtation leaves Hongjoong's heart racing and his mind aflutter with indecent notions. Your playfulness has caught him off guard, and it's evident in the way his cheeks continue to heat up. The dynamic between you two has shifted momentarily, and the lingering effects of your flirtatious exchange are bound to make the day even more interesting. 

"You look stunning!" Mingi exclaims, his eyes bright with admiration.

"You were right. This dress is perfect for her," San chimed in, his eyes not leaving the dress hugging your body.

“I’ll go pay for it,” Hongjoong says, getting off the chair he was comfortably resting in. 

“What? No, I'll pay.” You insist, trying to chase after Hongjoong, who just sends you a sweet smile before heading towards the exit of the fitting rooms. 

“Bring it to me when it's off, love.” he says before turning away to walk off, yet he stops and quickly turns around to meet your eyes again, swiftly he looks you up and down, before smiling again, “you look beautiful.” 

Once again, Hongjoong moves to the exit, some of the others following him, not before glancing at you one more time, to make sure the image of you in the dress stays in their minds. You attempt to follow him, not wanting him to pay for something like this. Yet, Wooyoung, who is still in the changing room, swiftly grabs your hand,  gently pulling you back into the cubicle.

“He likes to pay for things, it’s how he shows his affection, amongst other ways…” Woooyoung trails off and you can’t help but wonder what he is implying, “now, do you need help taking it off too?” 

“Wooyoung.” It is San whose voice sounds this time, causing Wooyoung to playfully roll his eyes.

It's just this dress, you tell yourself.

Unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes diligently observes your every gesture from across the expanse of the clothing store. A faint scowl adorns their features as they take in the scene playing out before them. Arched eyebrows frame their intent gaze, as they persist in their scrutiny, trying to think of where they've encountered you in the past. Curiously, the sight of your seemingly contented presence among the group of eight men evokes an unease within them. Finally they have found Ateez, yet they are extremely unaware as to who you are.

As the day wears on, you notice that your friends seem to be going out of their way to impress you. They help you find the perfect clothes, hold doors open for you, and even sneak in small gestures of affection, like stealing glances or offering gentle touches on your arm. Seonghwa skillfully manoeuvres his arm around your waist as the two of you walk side by side, gently tugging you closer to his side. His touch creates a sense of intimacy. Resting his chin on your shoulder, he conveys a silent closeness, a shared moment of connection that transcends words. The warmth of his body against yours and the weight of his chin on your shoulder create a comforting sensation.

"Wait, this sweater looks so cosy. You have to try it on!" Jongho insisted, handing you a soft, knitted sweater that looked like it would be perfect for chilly evenings.

"And these shoes! They would go perfectly with that dress you tried earlier," Yunho adds, bringing over a pair of elegant black shoes.

Continuing the shopping spree at the large mall, you can’t help but be flattered by their attention and affection. Every time you pause to admire an item for a little too long, one of the eight men would quickly grab it off the rack, insisting on buying it for you. It was both endearing and overwhelming to see their determination to spoil you  with gifts, no matter how hard you try to protest.

Trying on each item, you can't help but marvel at how well your roommates know your style and preferences. Their attention to detail and the effort they put into finding clothes that suit your taste makes your heart swell with gratitude.

The more the shopping bags pile up, the more you protest, telling them that they do not need to buy everything you like. Alas, your roommates are insistent, assuring you that they want to spoil you and show their appreciation for your presence in their lives.

During a quick break at a coffee shop, you find yourself sitting next to Yunho, who has been rather quiet this entire trip, it seems as if there is something on his mind, bothering him. When you look over to him, you notice he is peering at you with a fond expression. He takes a deep breath, as if he is gathering the courage to say something important, the tips of his ears turning a dark shade of red.

"Hey, I just wanted to let you know that... I really care about you," he begins, his voice hushed, soft and earnest , the traces of nervousness evident in his tone. The abrupt confession momentarily leaves you in a state of astonishment, as the unexpected display of affection from him causes your heart to quicken its pace. 

Throughout the day, you've been consistently taken aback by the sudden surge of affection from every man. Normally, the casual slight flirting is something you’ve become accustomed to, but now it has escalated to an intense level, and the realisation that there are deeper emotions beneath their words leaves you feeling light-headed and in a perpetual state of fluster.

"Later, can we talk, one on one, just us two? You deserve an apology and an explanation for my behaviour." Yunho continues.

“I’d love that Yunho.” You smile at the man, who looks exactly like a puppy as his eyes light up with happiness.

His confession leaves your heart pounding in your chest, and before Yunho can respond, Jongho approaches the two of you with a smile on his face. "Don't forget about me," he says playfully, though there is a hint of sincerity in his eyes. "I feel the same way. You're truly special to all of us."

Their sincere words have a profound effect on you, causing a rush of warmth to spread throughout your being. The honesty in their expressions and the depth of their feelings touch you deeply, leaving you unable to hide the telltale signs of your emotions. Your cheeks flush with a gentle heat, the emotions swirling within you.

When the day draws to a close, you leave the mall with bags filled with new clothes and hearts full of cherished memories. Realising that you are indeed fortunate to have such incredible people in your life who love you so deeply.

Making your way home, arms laden with shopping bags, you feel an overwhelming sense of happiness and belonging. The affectionate gestures of your roommates have touched you deeply, and you know that you are truly surrounded by people who care for you. In the end, it wasn't just about the clothes or the gifts; it was about the love and warmth that flowed between you. Settling back into the house, you can’t help but smile as you look around at your roommates, each one beaming with happiness. 

“I am going to put all this stuff away,” you exclaim, announcing your short departure.

"Hey, just so you know, dinner will be ready in about an hour or two," Yunho calls out to you as you busily move the numerous bags into your room. With a quick thumbs-up in his direction, you respond in a light-hearted manner, before disappearing behind your closed bedroom door. Your actions prompt a soft chuckle from him, finding your response quite endearing and cute.

Alone in the quiet of your room, you take a deep breath, attempting to steady the rising tide of anxiety that threatens to engulf you. Today had been a day unlike any other, filled with warmth that had, for a fleeting moment, lifted your spirits. The kindness and affection of the boys had been a balm to your soul, enveloping you in a sense of belonging that you hadn't felt in a while.

Reflecting on the day's events, you're struck by a poignant realisation – it was indeed one of the best days you've had in a long time. Laughter, shared moments, and the genuine care of your roommates were woven together to create memories that you'll treasure. And yet, despite the joy that had enveloped you, a shadow of apprehension had loomed over the day, casting a veil of unease over your experience.

The sensation of being watched, the lingering feeling that someone was trailing your every move, had been a constant presence in the back of your mind. It had woven its way into the fabric of your day, colouring even the happiest moments with a sense of discomfort. The weight of someone's presence, real or imagined, clung to you like a second skin, refusing to be shaken off.

Her face was everywhere and the worst thing is, you feel like you’ve seen it before.

---

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[bau-drabbles]

the night we met, part 3

a/n: hope you enjoy! mentions of torture and guns throughout, kinda long and unrealistic but its fanfic so 🥴

what if haley never died that day? but what if your love for hotchner had to?

part 1, 2

"have you found her yet?!" hotch barked the order out as penelope frantically searched through copious amount of cctv footage all at once. several computer screens were open for the team, trying to find a clue on the location of where you had been taken.

"not yet sir" garcia whispered, her fingers practically flying across the keyboard silently begging for any sign where you could've left. hotch tried to reign his anger back in, this wasn't anyone fault but himself. if only he had caught up to you, just 60 seconds before you wouldn't have been here. if only that stupid kiss hadn't even happened, you wouldn't be god knows where getting tortured.

he takes a breath, knowing deep down it's not the time to react emotionally but it's hard not to, it's hard to even think rationally when he knows the likelihood of you surviving wasn't all that great. his profiler brain knew the possible outcome from this wasn't exactly high and with every second his worst fear could potentially become true.

"have you found her?" haley's voice cuts in and hotch shakes his head, his fingers pinching his temple for any signs that he must've missed. it feels overwhelming around him, flashes of people and the sounds of you seeping through his mind. it's dizzying trying to piece together what's real and what's not, flashes of you and that damned kiss is all that plays on his mind. the softness of your lips, the utter desperation between you both, the sheer passion that radiated in waves, all of it. he needed it again, he craved it.

it's even worse when his wife, the mother of his child, the very woman you almost got shot for, is standing there looking at with concern but he doesn't take any notice. he never would've though haley's voice could be so shrill and irritating, he never could've imagined himself recoiling away from her. so he simply doesn't answer her, sighing as he tries to go over the footage with garcia. he should tell her about the kiss but his lips remain closed, not willing to share anything more about you to her.

"well i can help-" "haley please. go home protect jack, he needs one of us" hotch dismisses her, his heart becoming in control of the situation. he can't stand to look at her, feeling so guilty for kissing another woman but even worse because he didn't regret doing it. his only regret was not kissing you for longer. still, hotch knew he was being overly harsh but the pure fear, the worry of you being alone and he wasn't there was enough to send him tumbling into a pit of pure distress.

but he took a breath, now was not the time to become emotional. he had to get his head in the game. the risk of losing you was too much to bear but the thought of you being out there, chained to a devil was enough to keep him going.

"police have set up roadblocks blocking any main exits in the city. if they've travelled, they can't leave the country" jj and emily come in, but the information isn't enough. who knows what the man could've been doing to you by now, who knows what terrible inflictions could've been upon you.

"we've checked any significant location but they've all come negative, the detectives are checking for any last known locations and the camera footage when they leave...." morgan and spencer are next to enter, their shoulders deflating in disappointment and sadness being unable to find you.

"we'll find her aaron" rossi pats hotch's shoulders and though the sentiment is sweet, any hope is starting to crumble and diminish now. you were just here, how could they not find you yet? the bau was supposed to be one of the safest buildings, how could someone so easily take you away like that?? his resolve was breaking and if he wasn't careful, all the feelings that were locked up tightly would begin to spill before he could've comprehended it. the truth he was too scared to admit would be admitted and he didn't know how long he could hide it for

before anyone could respond, a beeping appeared. and there beheld a sight they wished they would never have had to see.

taking a good glance at you, all seven team members found their hearts shattering piece by piece in their chests. a chorus of horrified gasps and exclaims echoed throughout the room and hotch could barely even breathe, the words dying on his lips

"aaaand here we go" you hear a click, the whirr of a computer and it takes you all your strength to awaken. an overwhelming feeling of tiredness practically envelopes your body, how easily you could fall into the darkness that awaits your presence. and then the unfamiliar feeling of being tied up grabs you attention, fear courses through your veins as your eyes open and adjust to the setting. it felt like a hospital room but this was no place where people were fixed. the sickly smell of blood and bleach is strong in the air, its overpowering and nauseating

but you calm your mind, it wasn't the time to panic. you had to think, you had to fight, you had to survive

your vision was slightly blurred looking at the man who held you captive, trying to ignore the intense throbbing in your head. your hands were cuffed to some chain, holding you upright on your feet. but he loosens something and you fall to the ground with a soft thud, vision spinning from the lack of hydration and the beatings he had given you prior.

"ohmy god.... y/n??" a breathless whisper echoes throughout the room and painfully, you glance at the camera. there, all your team members stood in complete horror. you see hotch and for the first time since you had known him, he's at a loss for words. just looking at you with so much pain, so much anger, so much fear.

you could feel your cheeks burning from shame and embarrassment, at your situation or the kiss you didn't really know. you didn't even want to know.

"y/n?? are you okay??? someone tell me she's okay please-" garcia looks on tearfully while morgan comes behind her, guiding her to the computer. truthfully they didn't have an answer to her question but they needed to focus, to keep you alive. and you didn't need to be disrupted, not when your life was at stake.

"that was to prove she's very much alive so none of you have to worry" and just like that you're brought up to your feet again, groaning when the handcuffs pinch the skin tightly. there's so much pain, you can't even pinpoint where it hurts the most.

"what is she dressed in?" someone seethed and you blink in confusion, craning your neck to see your body. it was a black gown you were in, a slit riding up the thigh. it was beautiful, too pretty to be drenched in blood. a stark contrast to the situation you were in now.

"don't worry i didn't change her, i had someone else to do it for me. my prizes have to look picture perfect" he brushes a piece of your hair and you swing your head out of the way, eliciting a kick from him. you don't even cry out, gasping for air at the momentum he had lunged at you with. your hands grip around the handcuffs but it was useless, you couldn't claw your way out of metal.

"you stupid bitch!" his fingers grip your face, you could see just how much his rage consumed him. it was unnerving to say the least, the slightest thing seemed to tick him off. there was no telling what he could do to you in this state

"enough!" hotch grits out, his fingers clenching into tight fists by his side. piece by piece his facade was cracking underneath the unsub's hammer. he couldn't reign in his control this time, not with your life being threatened

"who are you?" you grit out painfully, trying to stop the wave of nausea hitting you over and over. the man doesn't answer, the head of his gun trailing from your chin to the centre of your neck. you hear the click of the revolver and your breath is hitched, wondering if he was really going to kill you this way. wondering if you'd be shot in front of your team that remained helpless on the other side

"i've always wondered what the price was for killing an fbi agent was-" you see the man's cruel smile hit you can't answer, the fear felt overpowering.

"don't you dare" hotch snarls, surprising everyone with the intensity of his rage. and to your surprise, it had worked. the man eyed hotch and with a soft grin, dropped his gun and you felt your lungs take their first breath. tears pricked your eyes, the tiredness was practically swimming in your body but you couldn't crumble. not in front of the unsub, not in front of your team. and especially not in front of hotch.

"i think we should play a game, no?" the man smiles sadistically, pointing to you again. any strength you once held was shattering minutes by minute. your mind and body fighting over one another, wanting to give in and give up but forcing yourself to stay awake no matter what

"leave her alone! i can have you arrested on multiple accounts of-" hotch's face was unreadable, his hands etched tightly around the monitor but the unsub gestures to his mouth, to silence them all.

"if you want her alive, you'll do what i say. good luck trying to pinpoint our location, right now the cell service is bouncing around several cell towers all across the globe" frustrated, hotch looks towards garcia who was working feverishly and she sadly nods, it wasn't a clear location no matter how times she tried to hack into the system. she was hit waves and waves after a firewall which could take hours, time you didn't have to spare.

"so back to the game, who wants to start? oh and if anyone moves," you feel the pinch of a knife resting dangerously on the pulse in your neck.

"one twist and she's on the ground and i'll be miles away. and this would've been all for nothing" he moves the knife down to the centre of your neck. leaving spots of blood in its wake. all of them look helplessly at each other, the unsub had them right where he wanted them and they knew. any slight movement would guarantee your death, any secret calls would have you beaten before they could hang up.

you were all at his mercy, whether they liked it or not

"derek morgan" the unsub peered around the group and his eyes settle on him eerily. morgan gulps a little, trying to calm his shaking hands. his eyes looks at you helplessly then back to the unsub where his gaze had hardened as puts up his profiler front once more

"we're starting off easy, how many years have you and agent l/n known each other" the question was simple enough and yet it felt like he asked into the lions den, suddenly feeling rather exposed and confused. as if any answer to this simple question would be wrong even if it was the truth

"wha-" derek began but he heard a sound of disapproval and your shocked wince as you were yanked back by your hair

"wrong answer" you weren't even given a warning or a countdown before you feel a surge of hot white pain floods through your body. painful screams rip out through your mouth, your hands desperately clawing at the handcuffs but its to no avail. the team stand there panicking, yelling at the man to stop. the pain was intense, you could've almost passed out from the pure agony crippling you

"waitwait wait stop stop!!! it's three!!! i've known her three years!!!" derek shouts, banging the screen and the pain is low dull one, you gasp and gulp for oxygen that never fully reaches your lungs.

"if you had answered the first time around, none of this would have happened would it?" he scowls, giving you a nudge with the stick. you gasp out for air, your tongue heavy on your lips as your body groans against the ties holding you up

"hurry up garcia" hotch commands under his breath to penelope, her eyes watering as she's trying desperately get some location on you. jj and emily help, trying not to look at the horror that was unfolding and focus their attention on bringing you back safely.

"i'm so sorry, i'm so sorry-" morgan whispers, his hands shaking looking to and back from you and the unsub. hotch can only stare with his mind spinning, breathing coming out in short bursts, his heart feeling like it had plunged to the deepest darkest parts of the earth. he's losing his composure and as much as he's trying to reel it back, it keeps slipping from him. leaving nothing but a vulnerable scared man

"how you doing?" the man prods your head and you could only gasp at the anguish flooding your body. if it weren't for the incredibly tight rope holding you upright, you would've collapsed a long time ago.

"doesn't she look so pretty?" he holds your face mockingly and turns so the rest of them can see. every member of your team feel their hearts shattering and splintering, their hitched gasps of panic at the beating.

"agent hotchner" the unsub asked another question, his dark eyes settling on hotch. a manical grin on his lips as he revels in the alarm he has inflicted on the whole team. as if it gives him satisfaction that your life danced in his hands and your team members could do nothing but watch

"truth or dare?" the unsub smirks and hotch looks at you, his stoic facade crumbling. his heart was falling into a million pieces he's not sure he'll ever recover from

"truth" hotch utters, his voice completely free from the cold tone he usually dons.

"do you love agent l/n??" the chain holding you upright once again loosens, and that sends you tumbling to the floor in a broken beaten pile. your heart was racing, partly because of the pain but mostly due to what he would answer. with a good amount of strength, you raise your head and look at the camera. looking at his face, how his eyes flickers with so many emotions and how you can practically see his resolve breaking away

hotch was a good liar but seeing your broken defeated face, being unable to help you, he had answered the question without even realising.

"yes" the murmur was soft, his voice cracking as he takes in your approach. he had caused this. he had done this to you. the promise of protection was nothing more than jumbled words at his feet. he broke the very thing he swore on you, how could ever look at you the same again?

"aww what a cute lil romantic story this has evolved into" the unsub had cackled and your head shook, glaring at both hotch and the man who had held you captive

"there's nothing... romantic about this" your voice was weak but firm, refusing to even meet hotch's eyes.

"shut up" the man had gripped you, ignoring the protest your team were calling. it felt like too much, he held your chin and you look at him, it was now or never. you had to escape, you had to be free.

you had to survive

with one swift move, all your strength goes in knocking him down. he tumbles to the table, breaking the rotting wood with ease. the instruments clatter and you get up, hissing when your abdomen stretched a little. looking down, you see your body littered with blood and bruises. a huge burn mark plastering your side as the dress ripped apart but you didn't have time to feel sorry for yourself when you hear voices crying out that he was attacking again

"in front, y/n!!" derek commands and you duck, making him fall into the table. you quickly grabbing the keys from the scattered objects on the floor, jamming it into the lock and twiddling until you felt a click. the metal loosens and you feel them slipping off, eternally grateful that for once the universe was on your side.

you didn't get time to react for when you look in front, he's there again. but your leg connects with his groin, remembering the training moves you were taught. the force of the kick was enough to paralyse him for a few minutes as he screamed. you looked around, quickly trying to find some keys to unlock the door. your freedom was close, you could practically taste it as you rushed around.

and then you had made the biggest mistake of looking into the camera for a second.

in that second you catch a glimpse of hotch's face, it completely startles you. as if the world had stilled for a fleeting moment and all you see is hotch, just looking at you with so many emotions it's hard to decipher which is the most dominant. how despite everything, you want to hug him and never let go. your body inbetween his arms and your head against his heart, protected against any and all bad in this world. and then you remember the heartache he's caused you, the moment that had led up to you getting captured and every memory is a dagger to your heart. how could things have gotten so wrong?

but it was that moment that was used to the unsub's advantage

you hear screams echoing in the room but you don't comprehend until you feel a burning sensation completely puncture your abdomen. gasping, you look down to see blood gathering at your feet and dripping down your legs and before you even look back up, the object breaks the skin a second time. as if it was all in slow motion, your teams watched the horrific steps play out like a twisted play.

"i told you not to mess with me, you stupid bitch!" he grips and twists the object once more, resulting in a breathless gasp leaving your lips. the pain felt intense, a throbbing sensation overtaking you as you collapse. the horrible sound of your skin being punctures all but echoes in hotch's head, unable to do anything but to scream your name. shocked screams echo in the bau room, penelope's fingers are furiously typing away as she squeezes her eyes, unable to stop the horrible penetrative sound of your skin being stabbed in her mind.

the pain grows worse by the second and your scream dies on your lips, eyes fluttering closed ready to accept and await the darkness that overtakes your consciousness.

"nonono.... no!!!" hotch could barely manage a whisper, banging the screen as if he could magically appear to your aide. but he was simply doomed to watch you as you suffer and collaspe to the ground, breathing quickening. this couldn't be, this couldn't be the end.

you can see him and painfully you turn to watch his face. you don't know what emotions has crossed over his features, he still looks as beautiful as he did the first day you had set eyes upon him. how lucky you were to experience what it was like to be kissed by such a man, to be able to be in the presence of such a wonderful person. your tears had blurred your vision, not out of pain but out of gratitude. even laying on this cold floor, bleeding out, you were purely thankful for him.

he had protected you before and now it was your turn, this way he could focus on his wife and child. you would never be in the way again. there's a hint of the softest smile upon your lips as your eyes close. your fists loosened, limbs becoming limp as you closed your eyes, allowing the darkness to fully encapsulate your mind and body. maybe in a different world, a lighter one, you and hotch could be together against all odds.

the screen fizzles into a black page and hotch barely lets a breath out he didn't think he was holding. his hands have gripped the chairs, he didn't trust himself to stand without the support. he could feel his eyes prickling with the tears as hard as he tried to disguise them, his world was falling apart at the seams and he couldn't do a thing to fix it. all he wants is to be with you but now he didn't even know if you were alive anymore, that thoughts sends him further spiralling in his despair. he wanted nothing more than the ground to completely swallow him whole, the lump in his throat growing bigger as his team members looks at him. partly with concern, fear and pure sadness.

the room was completely silent, everyone's faces covered with a look of pure sorrow and so much anguish.

penelope's tears won't stop trickling down her cheeks. emily and jj look at each other with helplessness, their tears shining underneath the lights. morgan and reid lean against the table their hearts thundering in their chest, completely unable to process what had just taken place while rossi sits by a chair his head in his hands at the pure shock and pain running through him.

"it-it didn't look that terrible, she could still.... be alive" against his better judgement reid offers his support softly. the crushing weight of your absence completely crumbling hotch in a way they've never seen before.

"she was stabbed twice, reid. don't be so naive to think she could've possibly survived that alongside with the beating he had delivered. you above all, should know that much" his voice was harsher than he intended, heavy as the lump in his throat grew bigger. it felt like the air was being cut off, his thoughts ricocheting across from one another as his knees give way and he crashes to the floor in pure defeat and torture. he could faintly feel someone come to his help, his name being called but his mouth refuses to answer. all he can think about, all his mind is replaying is the moment before you closed your eyes. how he wasn't there to help you, how he couldn't rescue you this time.

you could've still been there with them had he been to your aid just 60 seconds earlier. if he had chased you quickly, you wouldn't be beaten and bruised within an inch of your life and now you were... gone. his heart felt like it was being twisted painfully, gripped tight as the thought of never hearing your laugh and seeing your smile became permanent. the dam had broken and the tears spilled down his face, his hands clutching the carpet but to no avail.

what we he supposed to do now, haunting by the memory of you like this? what was he supposed to do haunted with the ghost of you?