#temporarily unrequited love

[dominusfero]

Drowning in the inescapable sea of lovesickness, the young king can barely keep himself afloat. Lustful desires are clawing desperately at the forefront of his mind; his judgment is now compromised. And so, he has to ask himself: does he love me, too?

[watchoutforthefanfics]

My John || Eleventh Doctor x gn!Reader

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Summary: At the news of an unknown distress call from the Tardis, the Doctor must go undercover. With the trust of thousands of years, he places himself (both watch and being) into your hands. Enter Dr. John Smith (not really a medical doctor just has his doctorate) your new roommate.

Inspired by: The Transmission by @fabulouspotatosister + 'ceilings' - Lizzy McAlpine

[[A/N: This was majorly based on the lyrics: 'But it's not real, and you don't exist'. So angst warning. But it has a happy ending, I swear. ]]

"It won't be long."

You could remember the creases of his face as he said it to you, the smooth of the worry in his brow -just because he didn't want you to see it. Well, you felt it now, the ache of days and nights and the heaviness of the watch in your pocket -you couldn't let go of it or put it out of your sight.

"When the time comes, you'll know."

You'd asked more about that then, about the how and the what and the why, but he waved it all off. 'You're clever,' he spoke, and you couldn't help the flutter in your stomach, '-you'll know.' So, you had prepared yourself to the life you found eerie compared to the previous one. Seeing John was... a domestic look on the Doctor and you weren't sure if it was good or bad for you.

"Honey, I'm home," he loudly announced, sing-songy with a cheer you couldn't quite match.

You exhaled, shook your hands, and stood to your feet, peeking out your bedroom door to where the Doctor... John stood.

He dressed differently now, more casual sometimes with the early morning pajamas. Today, however, he was dressed with a white button up and slacks, familiar, but matched with a long brown coat that had the same vibe as a trench coat but not the same material. And on the tip of his nose sat a pair of glasses, that you'd seen on the Doctor, yes, but rarely.

"Oh, so we have pet names now, dear?" You teased, watching as the tips of his ears began to burn a bright red.

It was natural, whatever banter you'd acquired. It was rather flirty, sure, but natural. You didn't want to think about what that meant too much.

"Dear?" He shriveled up his nose, "-What are we, an old married couple? I'd at least like to be dearest."

You snorted, walking towards the kitchen -which was right across the entry way, where he slipped off his shoes and placed his coat on the hanger. You were surprised by his organization in this light, especially since seeing some of the TARDIS's rooms.

"Okay, John dearest," you spoke, nose upturned as if you were pompous, "-may I ask how your day went? Were the kids okay today?"

He was a librarian at the local school, and sometimes on Saturdays he'd have extra readings for town square -he was quite the hit. With the voices he'd put on and the enthusiasm of the stories he told, the kids were enraptured. They weren't the only one.

"Of course," he grinned, "-haven't I told you, Thursday class kids are the best! Always desperate to learn that lot."

"Right," you carefully mixed the food upon the stove top, it wasn't on anymore but it was still warm enough to heat it up, "-that's the one with Charlotte in it, yeah?"

"Oh, yes, lovely Charlotte," he smiled, "-she'll go places I tell you. Today, she was negotiating an escape plan during recess, had a route down to the times."

You laughed, before siphoning off two servings and continuing, "And the meeting afterward?"

His demeanor dropped, as he pouted with a groan, "Boring, you know I hate to sit still for too long. Plus, George was just spewing nonsense statistics the whole time -didn't grasp onto much."

"Naturally," you hummed, taking a seat across from him as you placed his plate in front of you. You were usually the one to cook, not for... John's lack of trying, but more for the whole apartment's safety.

"What about you?" He countered, eyes attentive on you, it was unusual for you -the Doctor was usually everywhere all at once but John was often just an observer, "How was yours?"

The attention was odd, sometimes, but you'd grown to like it -despite how flustered it could make you. Depending on the day, and if his hair was messy and collar fussed. Luckily, he seemed well-composed today -a perfect picture of John, not the Doctor.

"Boring," you answered, not finding anything of note in your day. It was quiet mostly here, and you couldn't often chance going out without knowing where the Doctor was or if the threat was even still active.

"Oh, come off it," he dragged, his tone playful, "-you can do better than that. Go on, tell me. Anything new?"

You shook your head with a smile, "Not much, I'm just in the early stages now jotting ideas down in whatever form I can. There's not... It's all drafts."

You stayed home, under the illusion of being a writer -waiting for their big break. You did write though, detailing your adventures with well... him. It helped you sometimes when you missed him, and worst case scenario, it reminded you of what you were doing this all for. Because John's familiar soft smile and gleaming eyes were something you knew you could get yourself lost in.

You wished you could keep this version of him somewhere within you (locked away tight, yours), but you could never wish the lack of the Doctor in the world. Or even with you for that matter.

"I imagine it's lovely," he spoke, tone soft and the blush on his cheeks rising high, "-anything you make will be."

And there it was. The suspicious, fond gaze you'd caught from him now. It was happening more often, between the shared hours of the day you and John were domestic -connected personally, even. And you knew it felt that way, with him coming home, and sharing the space so intricately.

Just looking around the kitchen, you could see John just about in every crevice. An apron there (that said kiss the cook), some themed salt and pepper shakers (they were shaped like little animals), and the book he kept by the counter -he often sat there as you cooked, and you well enjoyed the company.

And everywhere else, you'd find him too. Little trinkets on bookshelves he just "couldn't live without", a few snowglobes from different cities (you found he was invested in traveling), and notepads just about everywhere. He always had something new to remember afterall.

"Well, thank you," you hummed, cursing yourself for the flush that went up your own cheeks. This isn't him, and he's not even himself.

How is that fair.

"But," you continued, playfully, "-I doubt you're an unbiased critic."

He made a big dramatic gesture with his hands to himself before speaking in a high-pitched tone, "Me? What? Never."

"John," you hummed, "-you're really not a good liar."

"Not to you," He smiled, his eyes carrying a whimsical shine that made your stomach swirl with familiarity, "You see right through me. I'll have you know, some of my classes think I'm a trainer of wild lions over the summer."

"You remember you teach children, right? They're fairly gullible."

"Pish-posh," he tsked, scooping some of the food into his mouth with a grace you found mostly unknown to the Doctor -other than tactful speeches and addressing an enemy, "-children are rather smart, just don't know how to use it yet."

"Yes, right," you countered, "-and this is an unbiased look, coming from a children's teacher, then?"

He rolled his eyes, a playfulness giving him away on his face, "Alright, you win. I'm shelving this argument for now."

"Just shelving it?"

"Yes," he confirmed, smiling up at you from his plate, and you felt your heart do a little twist in its place, "-anyway, I meant to ask you something."

You pursed your eyebrows at the sudden topic change, but pressed further on, "Yes?"

"Well, there's a-" he fidgetted with his fork, eyes now looking anywhere but you, "-a work thing Saturday. A big party, music and food. It's a celebration for getting halfway through the year, I suppose. Anyway, I just... well-"

"John?" You interrupted, clear, and concise but a touch concerned -had he seen something? Was it time?

"I'd like for you to come," he spit out, quicker than what was previously said but you still caught it (a symptom of the Doctor’s long-winded rants you supposed), "-with me. If you're not... busy."

"John," you hummed, with a grin, "-as if I'm ever too busy for you."

John smiled, the kind of smile the Doctor got when you were 'bloody brilliant' or so he'd put it. It made you feel special, all of your limbs felt like they were fizzing. The difference was now... you hadn't done anything. He looked at you like the stars were merely rocks, just because you'd said you'd go to a work party with him.

The Doctor wouldn't have done that. And that fact made your stomach twist in guilt, this wasn't really him. John wasn't really a person, just a shell of who he was meant to be and you were the only person so close to him.

And here you were, feeling things that you shouldn't with a man who only had you within this world.

Sure, he was giving you signals. Signals that made your head spin because you had always wanted them from that face, but it wasn't him. It's not fair.

"Brilliant," he grinned in response, before taking the two of your plates away with the same enthusiasm. He wouldn't wash them, he never did directly after dinner. Always said he didn't want to waste a moment.

And maybe you didn't want to either.

The next few days were busy for you, more than usual, you'd been trying to trace who had been after him for the past year. It had been a year. You were getting nowhere, mostly because he hadn't told you anything -'he' being the Doctor.

So, you weren't exactly ready when Saturday crawled up on you. John had practically been bouncing off the walls, fidgeting with his tie. He hadn't looked at you once as he navigated the space, grabbing things he'd strewn about -he looked so natural here. Fit here, with you.

It'd been familiar. You missed him.

Every day you did.

The Doctor jumping around the space, eager to tell you about the hills that stars grew on, or the alien race that communicated through smell.

"Isn't it brilliant?" He'd always be grinning so bright it could blind you, and he'd twirl around the controls for good measure. Eyes looking to you for your reaction, beautiful green twinkling with wonder you thought you'd lost when you were six. You had lost when you were six, but he... he brought it back.

"Y/N?" he spoke, well not him... but him, "Everything alright?"

John was in your space, a few steps away -maybe afraid to bridge the gap, he extended a hand. You'd realized then you were crying, the tears silent against your cheeks -you didn't even realize...

"If you're not-" he started, his fingers clenching in the air between the two of you like he'd wanted to touch you but wasn't sure, "If you don't want to go, we can stay."

We, he'd always said something like that -a package deal. Maybe you could live in your delusions for a bit, you could be selfish once.

With a breath, you closed the gap -connecting your hands and intertwining your fingers with his. His hand moved naturally... like it was meant for this... like his hand was meant to be in yours. It was intimate, something about you not being in direct danger and still holding him close.

You were safe, in your apartment; the two of you dressed dashingly, all for a party you were now bound to be late to.

"Wish I could," clearing your throat of the tears, you swung your hand and his between the two of you with the smallest of smiles, "-but my date is pretty handsome, couldn't bare to let him down."

John chuckled, you could still see the smear of concern in the pull of his brows but he could never really help it with you, "Handsome, really? This date seems very lucky then. From where I'm looking-"

You snorted, shaking your head and letting go of his hand -heading towards the apartment door, "We're going to be late, John."

"You started it," he pouted, before spinning around in a circle -eyes darting, "-wait, where's my coat?"

"John, darling," you hummed, pointing to the coat that was draped right across the back of the couch.

"Right, yes," he responded, grabbing it before freezing in place like your words had just now processed, "-did you say... darling?"

"Good observation."

"That's new, isn't it?" he asked, eyes intent on you for a moment -like you were a mystery he couldn't solve, "-I like it."

"Oh hush you," you snickered, not lingering on the slip any longer than you wanted to, "-we are so late."

John grinned bright and you saw him then -adventurous and wonderful, as he approached you -almost giddy, "I wouldn't have it any other way, darling."

The party was fuller than you'd expected, really. It wasn't just in some breakroom with dollar streamers and cupcakes with the kind of icing that stained your mouth. There were lights, music, and it was catered. With a mouthwatering buffet, mind you.

"John," you hush whispered, "-you didn't tell me it was fancy."

"How was I supposed to know?" he whispered back, defensive, "-This is my first one too!"

At that moment, two men walked up -each in a more dashing suit than the other, groomed to the nines. You truly doubted these guys were teachers, but based on the man that stood by your side... maybe it was true.

"Oh my," the taller one, who if you had to guess was the gym teacher spoke, eyes caught on you, "-John, is this the infamous Y/N?"

The other man straightened, eyes landing on yours, "No way!"

"Infamous?" You turned to John with a questioning brow, now this was interesting.

"It's not-"

"I'm Joseph," the taller one extended his hand to shake, before motioning to the man beside him, "-and this is my husband, Elliot."

"Not that I need to tell you," you smiled towards John, "-but I'm Y/N. It's wonderful to meet you."

"Gosh," Joseph began with a teasing smile toward John, who seemed like a branch in the wind, "-I feel like I know you already. John here's told me so much-"

"Alright," John erupted, the tips of his ears burning bright red -avoiding his eyes to yours, "-that's enough."

You added with a smile, playful, "Dearest, I'm not so sure. I'm quite interested in-"

He rolled his eyes, but you could see the quirk on his lips, "Yeah, yeah. You've had your fun. Now dance with me."

"What?"

"You promised me a dance, silly," he reiterated, pulling you away from the two to a space with less people -the music soft and echoing across the space, "-don't you remember?"

You narrowed your eyes, resisting the pull, "I certainly did not."

"Okay, well, then..." he paused, thinking and still holding your hand between the two of you -loosely, "-I'm asking you now. Will you dance with me?"

You stared at him, his face dancing in the lighting of the space and that strand of his hair falling in front of his eyes like it always did -god, you'd gotten used to him. There was an urge to brush it away, to hold his face -his precious, precious face.

Instead, you squeezed his hand, "Of course."

He smiled, and pulled you to the floor -eyes intent and focused, the music was slow, melodic. You assumed it was requested, based on the nature of the tones, didn't feel quite party to you.

"John," you confessed, "-I really don't know how to dance to this."

He laughed to himself, before gently guiding you the rest of the way to floor, "Don't worry, follow my lead."

John moved your hand to his shoulder, placed his hand on your back, and intertwined your free hands together without a second thought. It felt personal, really to be a breath away from him -for his hands to holding you close. Not in a hug, where you couldn't see his eyes.

But now you could.

"See, watch," he hummed, moving to step in a square -you knew this part, "-you're a natural!"

"You're just saying that," you echoed with a smile, unused to the flattery so close. So tantalizingly close that you could feel the breath of it on your lips. This had never happened.

"Y/N," he spoke, hushed, just for you to hear, "-did you ever think... you could... we could, really-"

"Yes?" you asked, eyes caught in his as you desperately tried to not step on his toes.

"Well, if you-" he began, before frowning, "-if you wanted we could maybe-"

A scream interrupted his sentence, loud and brash, and something within you snapped. You tried to get eyes on the obstruction, but the crowds running just dragged your eyes elsewhere. '... you'll know.'

"We know he's here," a voice slithered, yes slithered, through the crowd -the tone, unnatural, "-give him to us. NOW."

"When the time comes, you'll know."

Your eyes darted to John's who were frantically looking to you, almost checking you over, "John, we have to go."

He seemed speechless, "O-Okay."

You'd kept the watch on you, you could hardly leave it out of your sight -so the cold tingle against your side was quite comforting now. The clothes you were wearing didn't have much pocket space, but it had... something, after all.

Where to, you stared out at the intricate hallways, where to?

"WHERE IS HE?!"

There was a door down the way, space looked small, but it would have to work. You didn't have many options.

Pulling him into the space (a janitor's closet by the looks of it), you shut the door behind you two -making sure it wasn't an automatic lock. The darkness was all encompassing before you found the switch as you brushed your fingers along the wall.

"When you said out, I assumed you meant, well-" he spoke, tone shaky and it was moments like this where the difference was stark, "-out."

"John," you spoke, directly looking into his eyes, "-do you trust me?"

"What, yes-" he sputtered out, eyes lost and it would've been cute had you not been in the situation you were.

"Good," you spoke, before sticking your hand into his coat's pocket -the side he never used, and fished out what you were looking for. The sleek metal in your hand was unusual sure, but not... unwelcome, really.

John stared at it, eyes wide and breaths hollowing, "What... is that? I've never even seen that before! Was that in there the whole-"

"John, this is hard to explain," you exhaled, digging into your own pocket to pull out the watch -it was warm in your hands, "-but you are not John Smith."

"What?!"

"This," you pulled his hand over the watch in yours, you could almost feel it react, "-is you."

"Y/N," he echoed, "-I think you hit your head. You're acting-"

"Crazy," you finished, "-I know."

You could almost see the spandrels of gold connecting with his fingertips, twisting through the air to meet his skin. They were small though, delicate, easily cleared if he wanted them to be.

"Your name is the Doctor, you are an alien-"

"An alien?!"

"-the last one of your kind, Timelord," you continued, gently turning the watch to be in his hand, "-and the world needs you."

"This is-" he began, backing away -trying to push the watch back into your hands, "-ridiculous. My name is John Smith, I'm a librarian at Dexington Primary School. I have been for a year-"

"John-" you began -desperate.

"I got my degree, I met you on campus-" his tone was still fond somehow, "-you spilled your coffee on me, and wanted me to apologize-"

"John-" you interrupted, you couldn't hear this. Not now. Not when you were about to lose him.

"And I should've been mad. I should've been, but your smile was brilliant and I couldn't even think straight-"

"John, please." You echoed, tone gentle, soft.

"I thought you were the most beautiful person I'd ever seen," he looked up at you, eyes red and watery, "...How can that not be real?"

"Oh John," you hummed, tears of your own gathering -your hand coming to rest on his cheek, idly tracing the skin there, "-my darling John. It was."

John leaned into your palm, tears floating down his cheeks, and you wiped them away.

"This," you whispered, a bit breathless from the tears of your own and pointed between the two of you, "-was real. I know that."

"Then, why-" he began, eyes fluttering all over your face.

"You're-" you sighed, shakily and hesitant to let him go, "-you're not you, John. Not really."

"I want to be-" he started, reflecting his hand on your face -wiping at your tears, "-I just want to be your John. Why can't I?"

"Because you're the Doctor," you hummed, your heart breaking in your chest, "-and I can't take that away from the world."

He seemed to understand then, looking down at the watch with purpose -trying to see it for it was, you thought. His hands were shaking, and his eyes were heavy with a feeling you'd seen before in them, in the Doctor's eyes.

"I..." he whispered, looking back up into your eyes, "-I love you. Truly, I- I do. You have to know that, before I... Before I go."

"My John," you were crying now, the twist in your chest strong - an ache, a yearning, "-I love you too."

Without a second thought, you pushed forward, placing your other hand on his face -connecting your lips to his. You could be selfish twice, you decided, as you held his precious, precious face between your fingers.

It was bittersweet, the salt of your tears soiling your lips, but you really honestly couldn't change a thing. You wouldn't.

It was an ending you wouldn't forget.

With a breath, you pulled apart but let your fingers stay for a moment -eyes dancing around his face, to remember this. To remember John.

Because this... wasn't the Doctor, no matter how hard you wished it to be. It would be gone so very soon.

"You were lovely," you hummed, brushing his hair back and letting your fingers linger on his skin, "-I'll miss you."

With that, you stepped back.

"I'll miss you too."

He stared at you, green eyes so open, so vulnerable, he was hesitant -toying around with the watch in his fingers. You exhaled, shakily, and nodded.

John smiled, a brief one that you tried to commit to your brain, so fond... so loving. He didn't need to say anything else, so he flicked open the watch, and golden light burst into the room. It was so bright, you had to hide your eyes in the crook of your arm -the warmth biting up against your skin. It felt like a harsher version of the sun, searing across your skin, but it wasn't necessarily hurting.

And then, it stopped.

You looked up from behind your arm, and-

"Bloody hell," he spoke, gruff to himself, as he seemed to try to get something out of his ear, "-that was a rough one."

The joy you felt in your heart was immeasurable, but you still felt quite... broken open, splayed out like a puddle on the floor, and he was not.

He wiped at his eyes, noticing the tears -most likely, "What was I even-"

His eyes caught onto you, the eyes that you had missed -the extra heaviness, the extra wonder, and the infinite knowledge in that brain of his.

He lit up into a smile so bright that warmed you, "Y/N! Thank the stars, you look terrific."

The Doctor leaned forward, brushing a hand through your hair -it was longer now, "How long has it been?"

You paused, "About a year."

"Oh," he hummed, eyes everywhere but your face -thoughts quick and unraveling, "-that was a bit of miscalculation on my part... My bad. I didn’t think-"

His eyes finally landed on you, and he faltered. Moving quickly toward you, his hands unwittingly went to your face, wiping at the tears that had fled there. Your face was no doubt a wreck, sniffling nose and eyes scrubbed red.

"Have you been-" the Doctor paused, speaking softer, "Have you been crying?"

"I..." you began, but couldn't finish it.

"I was crying, too," he continued, "-well, not me but... me. What, so we were crying together that's-"

He fell silent, looking at you again -almost analyzing. There was a gleam, a shine of understanding, and you knew.

"You loved him," he concluded. The silence echoing loud after the words, bouncing around your head like a pinball machine, "-didn't you?"

You couldn't do this now, you really couldn't do this now, "Doctor, now is not the time."

Before he could say another word, you dug the screwdriver out of your pocket -it was shoved there when you... it didn't matter. Not now.

He narrowed his eyes at you, saying something you recognized to be 'we'll talk later', before accepting the tool with a grin, "Right then, duty calls, doesn't it?"

"As always," you quipped. He rewarded you with a grin that send your stomach into knots, one you'd missed so dearly.

The aliens who had come to him were fairly easy to handle, they were a bit too overconfident in their planning. The Doctor had simply slipped right in, and they hadn't been prepared for it. Hardly worth a year.

They underestimated him, you could tell. He was pouting about it. Had been for the last 10 minutes.

"What, they really thought I would fall for that?" He muttered to himself, as you both roamed the area -checking up on the masses, keeping an eye out for any injury that needed to be urgently dealt with.

And then you saw them, the men: Joseph and Elliot. They sat huddled together, comforting each other with what looked like some other teachers -their eyes widened in relief at the sight of the two of you, you assumed.

"Y/N, John!" Joseph exclaimed, the pull of his eyebrows lessening, "Thank god, you two are alright, are you hurt anywhere?"

He briefly scanned the two of you, seeming to come up with nothing, "-good."

"Joseph, right?" The Doctor asked, you knew he retained partial memories, so it made sense, "-Is everyone okay over here?"

"Yeah," Joseph answered, eyes flickering down the line, "-George sprained an ankle, but that seems to be the worst thing so far."

He was confused, you could tell by this new dynamic and the shift in... John. Your weren't sure how to even start in an explanation though, and the Doctor didn't seem too worried so you just waved it off.

"You're..." Elliot began, observing, "... different, John. You sure you okay?"

The Doctor chuckled, "I'm quite alright, never been better really. I'm just... not quite John."

"If I hadn't seen snake people about 10 minutes ago," Joseph responded, "-I'd say that's weird... but now? Do you just... You're not John?"

"No, well yes," the Doctor scrambled, "-John is like a piece of me. Just a part of my whole self, really. I... felt all the things John felt, saw what he saw. It just wasn't fully me."

They nodded, and he took it as means to continue.

"The rest of me was locked away, kind of," he spoke, face trying to track what he'd say, "-does that make sense?"

"The most I've heard today," Joseph quipped, "-which is not very much."

"Well," he grinned -wide and bright, the knowledge of worlds blooming behind his eyes, "-that's all I can ask, really."

"Are you two okay?" You asked, eyeing the two with a sensitive eye.

"Yes," they smiled at you, both of them had such kind eyes, "-we came up unscathed, luckily."

You sighed in relief, "Okay, good."

"Right then," he hummed, eyeing you with an eye you found familiar, questioning concern, "-off we pop, keep in touch, will you?"

"Don't you know it... uh-"

"The Doctor," you clarified, "-world-saving alien."

"Doctor, okay," he laughed -despite looking quite in shock, it was almost just adding to the pile rather than well... being a new type of weird, "-try and stay safe, will you? I may not... know you, but I know John. I rather cared for that bloke."

"We will," you answered, your smile a little bittersweet -you couldn't think about it too much now. Later.

The plan originally had been to go to the Tardis, but this outfit had been one of your best -you wouldn't let it be lost deep in the hallways. You'd already lost at least 3 hoodies in there -limited edition ones, too. And the Doctor was like a lost puppy, so he'd be sure to follow behind.

John had been the same in that sense, showing you things, gravitating towards the same room, and practically pouting for entertainment when you sat still for too long.

The trip up the stairwell was unusually silent, you'd felt odd in the presence of the Doctor and well... silence. It felt like he was always talking, and if by some chance he wasn't, he was everywhere. Big motions filling up a space, he'd almost always have a spotlight shining on him -attention on him anywhere he went.

It was the curse of the companion to fall in love with the wonder, one you knew well.

But this part of the Doctor was rarely there, this part was the kind where he'd stay silent for days -thinking about something in particular. An anniversary of an event, he wouldn't say what; the only way you could tell was he wouldn't be jumping to go elsewhere. He'd stay right there.

You felt that same part here, following you to the apartment that you... that you used to share. Kind of. You weren't quite sure where his memories were, what he remembered about the year (or even the past few hours for that matter).

The door swung open, and the silence only intensified. Large and unmoveable, you were sure how to even approach it. Or if he even wanted you too.

"It's... blurry," he spoke, dusting his fingers along a snowglobe (one of his, technically) -you held back the twinge in your heart. John was everywhere in here.

"What is?" You questioned, absentmindedly playing the ends of one of the coats that hung there -it wasn't yours, but you thought you might keep it.

"The line between me and him," he answered, eyes scattering to different things littering across the space.

Looking at it, it looked very domestic.

The pairs of shoes by the door, the mugs paired by the stove -ready for tea, the pair of pillows decorating the couch -you'd both chosen one. It felt so... stuck together, you could barely breathe.

"There's things I know I..."

"Doctor," you shook your head, swallowing down the lump of tears in your throat -you were grieving... over someone right in front of you, "-you don't have to do this..."

He pursed his lips at you, furrowing his brow, "Do what?"

"This," you motioned to him, holding the snowglobe -close to his chest, "-I know John isn't you. You don't have to... I know."

"Y/N," he began, now placing the trinket back on the shelf, "-what are you talking about?"

"Doctor, it's embarrassing enough as it is."

"What is-" He questioned, roaming closer, "Y/N, you're making no sense."

"Stop," you rolled your eyes, walking further into the room, and of course he only followed you. What were you going to do with all this?

"Look at me," he held your biceps, guiding your eyes to his, "-does it look like I'm lying to you?"

You squinted at his, trying to closely analyze his face -you knew it, his tells, his existence was painted in the skull of your brain. Both Timelord and human now, you supposed.

"No," you decided -still not quite over the lump of emotion in your throat, would you ever be?

"Right then," he cleared his throat awkwardly and let go of your arms, "-good."

This was something starkly different, the Doctor fluttering away from affection so easily -stepping out of the space and not being aware anymore. John... He felt like he was looking at you, always looking at you. Maybe because he had nothing else to look at, but you liked to think it was because he wanted to. You hoped he did.

"Stop-" the Doctor interjected, the silence of the room breaking like glass -harsh and loud, "Stop thinking so loud."

You rolled your eyes, not wishing to deal with this side of him now -not when you felt like you were digging a grave for someone standing right in front of you. It was odd, the twisted feeling of watching what you knew to be the Doctor around the room. (The only real difference being the godforsaken bowtie. He'd stolen it at the party, the janitor -an older man with a kind smile, had easily given it away.)

He belonged here, you knew that. Hell, even before the last year, the Doctor would pop in for visits -movie nights, just to try something human he'd heard about, or his impatience on waiting for you. He had a spot then, sat on one of your wider windowsills -staring down at the streets below, or the lit up city, you weren't sure. The man just couldn't sit in a regular chair.

John hadn't done that. Sure, he'd made himself cozy in every space possible that he could, including the kitchen cabinets once (hell of a day), but never... never the windowsill. He hadn't wondered about what was outside, his whole world was right...

"Here," you hummed to yourself, tracing the tips of books on the shelves.

You saw that now, John had no need for adventure, no spark to see something new. He'd been content. Happy with just you.

The Doctor couldn't be like that, you knew that. He never could.

You weren't sure you'd ask him to.

"I wish I could," the Doctor spoke, a chuckle lost in the whisper of his words.

"What?"

He seemed to pause, thinking about his next words -the Doctor thinking never really meant anything good. But, you still found you waited.

"Your John," he finished, "-I wish I could be him."

You froze in your place, your breath hitching in your lungs -so, he had remembered, "We really don't have to-"

He seemed to continue, as if your words hadn't even been spoke, "You have to understand, Y/N, John is a part of me. Sure, without the extra bits, but still me. Me in my most basic form, human."

You didn't know what to say.

"Well," the Doctor corrected, "-human...ish. Not really an exact science, just kind of takes the regeneration energy and-"

"Doctor," you exhaled, tired, "-what is this all about?"

"You don't," he began, face furrowed into one of curious concern, "-You don't know?"

"Know what?"

He seemed to falter to a pause, like he was planning his next move. Or thinking of his next words again. You wondered what he had to be so careful about -you misinterpreting?

In a blink, he was in front of you -digging around through his pocket before he found what he was looking for -the watch, "Did I ever tell you how this works? The Chameleon Arch?"

"You mean the watch?" you questioned.

"I'll take that as a no, then," he started, fingers mindlessly tracing the Gallifreyan on the front, "-the technical part of it is called a Chameleon Arch, Gallifreyan tech. Original duty is to change an individual's species. Technically, it changes your biology -a very painful process, really, I'd know."

"Right," you flinched, remembering the brief moment he'd experienced it before, "-I... remember."

He frowned at you, seeming to not remember that you had seen that, "It's connected to the Tardis, gives me the backstory, but... it's never been an exact science."

You paused, looking at the Doctor with eyes of curiousity -he seemed to have a point to this ramble. He never had a point to his rambles.

"It takes bits and pieces from me," he hummed, demostrating with the air in front of his hands, "-the person it creates isn't entirely from the Tardis, not really."

"What do you mean?"

"Like a motivation," he hummed, debating on whether or not finish it -eyes looking your direction but not at you, "-or a hobby, or a..."

The Doctor froze in his place, eyes focused on his hands in front of him -slowly, his eyes rose up to meet yours, "A... feeling."

You were confused for a moment, watching him. He'd frozen in place, yet his eyes stayed trained on yours. You couldn't quite grasp it, what he was trying to convey to you. Until...

Until you truly looked at him.

There was something erry about him, something on his face that felt off, but at the same time, ever so natural. So right, yet so wrong.

And then it hit you, there it was. The suspicious, fond gaze.

"Doctor," you spoke, disbelieving.

"Y/N, you have to know," he continued, despite your plea, "-you really truly have to-"

"Doctor, please," you hadn't wanted to go through this again -the hope of loving the Doctor could only hurt you, "-you aren't thinking straight. Th-That's John, not you-"

He was confused, twisting memories together, you couldn't... you couldn't chance it.

"Y/N," he was getting closer to you now, voice steady and distinct, "-it started with me."

You froze in place, blinking as if he'd vanish right in front of your eyes. It was almost like a hallucination for a second, because he (the Doctor, not John) could not mean what you thought he meant.

"It took the bit of me that was..." he corrected, watching you as if you could break with slightest of touches, "-is in love with you."

"You do?" you began, sputtering -you weren't sure what to say, "...N-Not John?"

"Well, technically both," he grinned and you felt your stomach twist into a pretzel. God, what were you going to do with him?

"Oh, shut it," you huffed out.

You could definitely be selfish a third time afterall.

In a blink, you pulled his face towards yours -the steps towards him quick and brash but the way you touched his face was different. Gentle, you trailed your finger along his cheekbone for a second.

Your breath mixed with his, he was just looking at you. Like there was nothing else to look at.

Like he was... happy with just you.

God had he been hiding that look the whole time? -peeking over books as you read them, staring at you as you walked around the Tardis fitting in just like a missing puzzle piece.

"It was all me," he whispered, distracted, sure, but still answering you. Stupid Timelord telepathy and stupid handsome aliens.

And maybe you were a little stupid too, but he didn't need the ego boost, truly.

"Hey-" he pouted out, and the jut of his lip almost made your heart flatline -sure you were almost there but you hadn't worked up to it yet.

The Doctor paused, noticing your stiffening in place, the way your eyes darted to his mouth for a second -a split second, and he grinned.

And for a second you thought he might pull back, and make up some excuse, but instead, his hand came up to the side of your face. Surprisingly smooth fingertips detailing the dips and pulls of your face, you could barely breathe at the closeness.

"Wonderful," he spoke, so quiet you could barely hear him -made you wonder if was even for you to hear. Or if it was just... for him, "-You're wonderful."

"Doctor," you almost cried, the movement so soft, so careful. Like he never wanted to forget the face. You held his face close, a breath away from you and this burst of fondness flooding your chest you just couldn't even describe really.

So, you held his face, trailing your fingers along his jaw -showing it the only truest way you knew how, "My Doctor, my darling Doctor."

And you kissed him.

[anonbinaryweirdo]

yeah uh yk how baivi is soulmates in every au, and how kavexis is just pining ??

[sugawara--san]

otayuri but yuri liked otabek the whole time bc who can blame him. the hot talented older guy who literally saved you on his motorcycle and is basically your first friend and the first person you feel comfortable enough to willingly get closer to. but otabek genuinely never thought about him like that for years not even once until yuri confesses and forces him to reconsider their relationship and how he sees yuri.

[yuquinzel]

BLUE LOCK BOYS AS ROMANCE TROPES !

— feat ⨾ itoshi sae, itoshi rin, nagi seishiro, mikage reo.

— contents ⨾ fluff, angst.

ITOSHI SAE + second chance at love !

it's raw with desperation and fear and hope— the way sae's fingers are clutching the fabric of your shirt. it's wasn't supposed to be this way. he kisses the tears trailing down your cheeks, “you said it was over. you said it wasn't worth it. you said you didn't want—” you choke on your own words, hand closing in fists on your sides when sae mutters breathlessly, “i didn't mean it, never ever.” he says. something like guilt burns in his eyes, a taste of regret on his lips, uncertainty and impatience in his hastened breaths.

it's crazy, you think. the way he still has that effect he had on you years ago when you were both seventeen in the airport terminal, teary eyes and staggered breaths. when the fear that the distance would tear you apart first took over, and sae stopped believing. when you looked away from him for the first time and he didn't reach out to wipe your tears. it wasn't supposed to be this way. he was back after four years and you weren't supposed to be in his arms. you promised yourself you'd talk like old friends do, and he trusted himself that he wouldn't say anything to try and make you stay.

“i think it can work, you and me, us. just the two of us and it'll be enough.” you know these words have burned on his tongue for long, because they're warm on your lips. you're kissing him back like it's only natural to do so.“i'm already yours, always have been.” he murmurs.

ITOSHI RIN + childhood friends to lovers !

it's the warm and golden hues of the setting sun melting into the evening blues, splattered colours of contrast coming together— the mark of a newborn eve, the smell of wet earth after the first shower of spring and the cool caress of the breeze. rin is standing by the entrance gates to your school, leaning against the wall, head rested to the side as he waits for you.

you think you're caught in a trance. his back covers the remnants of the sunlight like the moon eclipsing the sun, casting shadows of orange glows. when he breathes, the shadows dance with him. he frowns in wait, and you catch up to him. when you smile, it's almost melancholy, “what's got you smiling like that?” rin eyes the solemn curve of your lips.

“hmm? i think it's ’cause i like you.” the words bleed from your voice in saccharine hues, in bittersweet whispers of unrequited love and fear that maybe you've ruined the carefully painted mosaic of years of knowing rin and the sea green gleam of his eyes, the quiet hums and smiles only you know, the knowledge that he doesn't know how to make paper planes, summer nights of horror movie marathons and trading ice creams.

rin parts his lips, eyes as wide as saucers. he sucks a breath in— searching for the second you say you're joking, “do you mean that?”

you nod and rin's arms swallow you whole, chests pressed so close your heartbeats sync and improvise as one.

“i like you too, really like you.” he breathes into your neck— lingers of relief and gratitude like he's breathing for the first time.

NAGI SEISHIRO + forced proximity !

past 2 am into the late hours of midnight blues and the heavy patters rain against the glass window, reduced to background noise because you're subconsciously trying to trace the steady pattern of nagi's breathing, eyes skimming the fall and rise of his chest every two seconds.

you've been awake since thunder rumbled the walls of your temporarily-shared bedroom for the first time tonight. some fun, memorable just-close-friends trip this is. perhaps it wasn't enough you had to share the bed with someone, maybe it's truly because that someone happened to be nagi seishiro that you can't sleep at all. you're conscious of every breath he takes, how his body expands and relaxes. the heat of your bodies melding as one like a blanket of second warmth over you. “you still awake?” you ask, low and soft. nagi hums, “mhm, if you still are.”

his voice is nothing but a breath of the comfort of not being alone, exhaustion from the day clawing at his throat. “you can sleep if you want.” you say, it's whispered into the night— a silent thank you because he's letting you know he's here as long as you want him, “i wanna stay like this.” he urges, bringing a hand to brush your hair behind your ear and you let him. you let him hook his arm around your waist, foreheads brushing lightly, breaths tangling in knots and lips seconds away from meeting. you watch the curve of his lips, how they move to form words, “i like this more.”

MIKAGE REO + fake relationship !

you think reo had always looked like midsummer nights adorned with princely smiles and bubbles of champagne in the glass, glitters of neon city lights against damp car windows, juvenile secrets traded as i love you's with the hope it lasts forever. ( it doesn't. )

it lingers in the way he kisses you these days— a small talk to fill in loud silences, pretense and improvised. you kiss him back— a lullaby of aching heartbreak, unrequited and young. it almost makes you forget about the blinding flashes of camera lights, hurrying to capture the moment mikage reo is seen with his partner.

it's just like he had asked you to, “date me” he'd said, missing the way your eyes lit up, “it doesn't have to be real, just enough so my parents stop setting me up for blind dates.”

“i don't think i can do this anymore.” your voice breaks, eyes refusing to meet his.

“what? why?—” he rushes close and you step back, “it's getting too real for me, i can't.”

he pauses— ponders your words, lets them replay in his mind over and over again, “...and you don't want that?” you do. so much that you said yes before thinking when he first proposed this, “what about you, reo? this... this means nothing to you right? none of th—”

“it does”, his voice is almost begging, “it means everything to me. you do. it's you and it's always been you.” he looks at you, wondering if he should continue. he does anyway, “it's real. i loved you every time i said it, every time i didn't say it. I'll say it again if you want me to—” and you hear it, like it's always been there, like it's all he's ever known, “— i love you, y/n.”

© yuquinzel2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]

[soobnny]

the first snowflake — hwang hyunjin. unrequited love. comfort. best friends to ? (1.0k words)

your best friend comforts you over unrequited love

“Jinnie, what are we doing here?”

It’s a simple question for a simple person like your best friend who has taken the ground for a bed, laying among the grass and patting the space next to him—a silent invitation for you to join him. You follow quietly, allowing yourself the moment to not trip over your own feet and just exist.

There’s a gap between you both, a small buffer, but it’s not wide enough that Hyunjin can still pull you at arm’s length if anything happens.

He turns his head so he’s looking at you. There’s a small smile on his face, eyes focused on your own. “You were crying this morning. Isn’t it quiet here?”

“A little.”

When you’d knocked on his door with tears in your eyes, he let you cry. For seconds, or minutes, or hours, you don’t really remember. You can only recall the ice cream he’d bought you after and how he’d held your hand to take you where you are now.

The small gesture of kindness brings a lump to your throat. Hyunjin has always known the way you resort to isolation when you’re upset, how you prefer the silence to help you think. So, he allows you the time to think things through, but he offers his quiet presence so you don’t have to be alone.

His company makes you feel rested, far more than you have in a while. You have been too tired menaced by unrequited love and the obvious truth that Chan does not feel the same way. He’s captivated by someone else—prettier, smarter. What a long way to be in love with him for years only to arrive at loneliness. But there is nothing you can do but continue to live within the confines of a love you cannot control.

How ironic, the season of giving is taking and taking away from you.

“What if the first snowflake falls today?”

“Then I’ll lend you my coat.”

“But you’ll be cold.”

“I can handle it until we get home.”

Hyunjin always has a response for everything, and you soften from the uneasy stance you’d taken. You hate being upset in front of Hyunjin, it makes you feel pathetic. Even more so because he’s never given you a reason to feel pathetic in front of him, and it makes you guilty that you even feel this way in the first place.

You snap back to awareness when you feel his hand on yours. They’re long and slender, engulfing yours with ease. The warmth grounds you and temporarily eases the uneasy look on your face. You let your eyes flicker down to your hands before training them back on the sky.

You allow yourself to watch the sky for a long time, indifferent to everything else, until a question blocks your vision. Something you wish you could answer.

Why couldn’t Chan just have looked at you? Even just once?

You had submerged yourself too long until you’d drowned. You would look at the boy with love, but it was never reciprocated. You could’ve been a good girlfriend if you weren’t the only one falling.

When he’d introduced to you the girl he’s been taking on dates, you’d heard the first crack of your heart. Still, you’d played your part—the supportive friend, until it was an appropriate time to excuse yourself. And when you’d made the move to leave, you’d hovered for a few extra seconds, waiting. Eyes trained on the boy. Waiting.

You don’t even know why. You know he’d never look back. But you had hoped he would. You were always hoping with Chan.

You feel a gentle squeeze on your hand. It’s Hyunjin. You didn’t even tell him why you’d been crying, but you have a slight inkling that he knows. He has always been more in tune with his emotions than you. He’s smart, overwhelmingly so, so you have no doubt that he’s aware of your feelings for Chan. But even if he did know, he didn’t say anything. Not until you were ready to tell him.

You stay lying on the grass, watching as the light from the sun slowly drains from the clouds that are hiding it. There is still that pathetic feeling sitting on your chest, akin to heartbreak and embarrassment. You’re too tired to decipher which one. It’s so tiring to have too much to think about, things that have hurt you. It’s starting to get painful.

“I wish love was easier.” You whisper.

There’s a silence that follows. You can tell he’s thinking.

“If it was easy, it wouldn’t be worth it.” Hyunjin sounds utterly human, and there’s a tenderness in him—in his eyes, in the way he’s holding your hand, and in his words. There’s a certain softness to him, and it’s so endearing. You can’t look anywhere else.

“How will I know when I’ll be okay again?”

He takes your hand in his, placing it carefully on your heart. “That’s how you’ll know.”

Something sits with the embarrassment on your chest, but it feels different this time. Something’s changed and you can’t quite put your finger on it. You try not to think about it too much. But you have a feeling it’s vulnerability, something you don’t let slip very often.

You only look away when you spot something from the corner of your eye.

The first snowflake.

“Ah, the first snow of the season.” Flowers sprout from the way Hyunjin chuckles. He’s sat up now, transferring his coat on you as promised. And you feel warm, but not as warm as when he’d held your hand earlier. You resist the urge to reach for his hands, you don’t even know why you want to, but you really really don’t want to think about it.

“Jinnie?”

He looks at you when you call his name, previously closing his eyes in what looks like him making a wish, but he says nothing. He only holds your gaze, and you can’t really tell if he’s thinking of a response or waiting.

“Thank you.” You finish.

He smiles at you.

When he asks if the two of you should leave, it sounds familiar. But you let him go, telling him you’ll stay just for a little while. And maybe if you hadn’t closed your eyes immediately, you would’ve noticed the way he’d stood there for a few seconds. Eyes trained on you. Waiting.

[wangxianficfinder]

In the mood for...

Apr 9th

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1. ITMF fics with (a) good and well-developed original characters! i really enjoyed "I told you when I came I was a stranger" and would really love to read more like these. also looking for (b) fics where wwx is brought back in an OC's body, where their identity matters to the plot (eg politically), like "The Housewife’s Guide to Causing Chaos" (wwx brought back as a yu) & "Everyanything" (wwx brought back as qin su).

would still like wangxian to be tgt, & complete/actively ongoing fics only please. thank you!!!!! @potatokunst

1B)

There's the wwx resurected in other people's bodies comp, but more specifically,

❤️ Beauty and the Boot by PTchan (T, 44k, wangxian, summoned by f!oc, Canon Divergence, Romantic Comedy, Genderbending, Denial, Fem!WWX, WangXian kids, Crack-ish, WIP) would probably fit

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2. Hey there! For the next itmf:

I want fics where wwx is in love with lwj, and he knows it too. So I don’t care if its time travel or anything like that, I just wanna see wwx treating lwj good/like a spouse while being aware that he’s doing it.

And even greater would be, if lwj was very much confused/ in gay panic mode/ horny for it .

Thank you :3 @desperation-is-my-middle-name

two guys r in love thats literally it by victortor (M, 11k, wangxian, Time Travel, the fluffiest thing ive ever written)

When the Words Stop Coming by mrcformoso (T, 7k, WangXian, Canon Compliant, POV WWX, POV LWJ, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Pre-Sunshot Campaign, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Canonical Character Death, Love Confessions, Rejection, LWJ is a Panicked Gay, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Trauma, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sad with a Happy Ending) more of an angst take honestly but it fits the prompt?

And Time Is But a Paper Moon by sami (M, 139k, WangXian, XiChengQing, Time Travel, Fix-It, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Healing, Mental Health Issues, PTSD, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, BAMF WWX, BAMF JC, BAMF LWJ, BAMF JYL, Getting Together)

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3. Hi! For ITMF, can you suggest fics where it picks up soon after the novel ends and explores wangxian’s relationship and how it develops?

Or just fics where wwx learns to take up space/ adjust to gusu and in lwj’s heart?

Thank you for your help, always!

And Yet Here You Are by cosmicmilktea (T, 10k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Domestic Fluff, Cloud Recesses, settling down, Separation Anxiety, Teacher WWX, very light angst, Chief Cultivator LWJ)

call me home and I'll build you a throne by anaphoricae (E, 51k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Cloud Recesses, Getting Together, Developing Relationship, Self-Indulgent, Gusu Lan Juniors Dynamics, Touch-Starved, Non-Sexual Intimacy... and then Sexual Intimacy, Lán Juniors Gossiping about Wangxian, as a treat, Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, little hurt lots of comfort, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Farmer WWX, Chief Cultivator LWJ, iMutual Pining, Communication, Quietly Falling Into a Married Life, Light Angst, Wholesome, POV LWJ, POV WWX, LWJ in braids agenda, Sharing a Bed, WWX's Birthday, Semi-Public Sex, Cold Springs, Inventor WWX, Jealous WWX, turkish translation)

I hope that you will come and meet me by feyburner (M, 28k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Getting Together, Love Letters, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Literal Sleeping Together, Intimacy, CQL Compliant, No Plot Just Feelings, First Time, Two soulmates figuring their shit out, Let Hanguang-jun talk about his feelings agenda, Podfic Available)

my age has never made me wise by idrilka (E, 63k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Part-epistolary, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Marriage Proposal, Homecoming, One Brain Cell WWX Strikes Again)

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4. hello! for itmf any fics with wei wuxian and mo xuanyu? smth like i'll take a secondhand monster by stratisphyre

tysm<3 @r3n-vy

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5. Hi! Hope u r having a great day!

Do you know any good wangxian fics where LWJ leaving cloud recesses along with A-yuan and raise him on his own? You know, before WWX's return? I remember reading one where LWJ competely fell off the radar once. Sadly, i can't recall the name. Pretty please @grrumpywoof

❤️ And Miles To Go Before I Sleep by Glitterbombshell (T, 23k, WIP, WangXian, Heavy Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, LXC is not really a good brother in this sorry, Canon Divergence, rogue cultivator!lwj) It's a WIP that hasn't updated since 2020, but there's this

Home isn't Where the Heart is. by Hauntcats (Not rated, 7k, wangxian) Jingyi comes along too here

The Best I Can by Zephyr (ZephyrAndTheSilverfish) (T, 26k, LJY & WWX, wangxian, WWX talking to his donkey, Canon Divergence, Light Angst, Drama, Recovery, Coming of Age, Secret Identity Fail, Friendship, Rogue Cultivator LWJ, Road Trips, POV Multiple, Happy Ending)

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6. Hi!!! Thank you, you are all amazing and this place is magnificent!! Well, In the mood for... A) Fics were Wei Wuxian raised or helped raised the Juniors, all of them, modern if possible, I just finished The Edge of Night by Hobbsy3 and the relationship with the kids is so amazing, even if is not the central theme also B) Zombie themes fics, similar to the previous one, modern to if posible with happy ending!! Thank you so much for everything!! Be well :) @monicaop21

6A)

🔒 and having a marvelous time by varnes (E, 108k, WangXian, Yúnmèng Siblings, Sound of Music AU, (i know!!! i know. stay with me on this.), Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Family Feels, spies to lovers???, Protective Siblings, Sometimes You Just Want Your Dads To Admit They're Your Dads, Angst with a Happy Ending, podfic of and having a marvellous time by varnes by Spinifex) not modern but WWX raises all the kids

6B)

Darkness Before the Dawn by Selenay (E, 64k, wangxian, Zombie Apocalypse, Modern With Magic, Necromancer WWX, Reunions, toddler A-Yuan, There Was Only One Bed, There are zombies but not graphically horrific zombies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Find a home in the middle of an apocalpyse)

~*~

7. Academic rivals wangxian? :<

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8. For the next itmf! I wonder if there are any fics where the lan and nie bros are really close and then wwx gets added into the mix, and there are shenanigans! Things like the lan/nie bros having a problem that only wwx can solve, or the bros discover how wwx's been treated by other people and get super protective. I just read With This Shadowed Blade and discovered that I very badly want to read more of this dynamic! Thank you all!

Come Around and Stay by trippednfell (M, 160k, wangxian, modern, slow burn, kid fic, found family, it gets worse before it gets better, PTSD, blood and injury, dissociation, trauma, angst w happy ending, musicals, alternating pov, JC & WWX reconciliation, hurt/comfort, panic attacks) 

Debts of a Child Part 2 by Hauntcats (M, 111k, WangXian, YZY Bashing, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Angst and Feels, lots of anger, JC Bashing, not Jiang friendly, Angst with a Happy Ending, Content warning for icky spiders in later chapters.)

~*~

9. Pls pls next itmf secret relationship wangxian? Bonus points if it’s CRA but modern au or post canon or whatever is great too I just need it (I have read a few where their families don’t believe they’re dating but I want them hiding it)

Silenced With A Kiss by NinjaKK (E, 132k, WIP, WangXian, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Flirting, Teen Romance, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Soft WangXian, WWX in WWX’s Body, Secret Relationship, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Dates, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX, Canon Divergence, Protective LWJ, Protective WWX, Ripple Effect, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Optional Smut, Supportive LWJ, BAMF WWX, Inappropriate Use of Gūsū Lán Forehead Ribbon, Has an Angry LWJ Kink, Drunk LWJ, Gusu Lan Alcohol Tolerance, No Golden Core Transfer, WWX Leaves the Yunmeng Jiang Sect)

A Guide on How to (not) Have a Secret Relationship by Grapesey (YumGrapeJuice) (T, 6k, wangxian, Established Relationship, Secret Relationship, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Boys Kissing, they are horribly in love, WWX is a Little Shit, LWJ is So Whipped, WWX is obsessed with LWJ's hair, JC is So Done)

~*~

10. For the next itmf could I see if we could find any fics where mo xuanyu is adopted by wangxian. I’ll take both modern au and canon type fics

a thousand fragile and unprovable things by theLoyalRoyalGuard (G, 5k, WangXian, Modern AU, Trans Male Character, Trans MXY, MXY Deserves Happiness, Best Dads Wangxian, Handwaving The Legal System With The Power of LWJ, A little bit of angst, mostly soft, Happy Ending, Gender Happiness, Let LWJ Wear Skirts Agenda, Additional Warnings In Author’s Note)

silk linked together by theLoyalRoyalGuard (G, 6k, LWJ & MXY, Wangxian, Modern, Autistic LWJ, Cellist LWJ, LWJ, Runs A Rabbit Rescue, MXY Deserves Happiness, Fluff) which ends w/ both wangxian relationship and Mo Xuanyu adoption in process.

🔒 and having a marvelous time by varnes (E, 108k, WangXian, Yúnmèng Siblings, Sound of Music AU, (i know!!! i know. stay with me on this.), Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Family Feels, spies to lovers???, Protective Siblings, Sometimes You Just Want Your Dads To Admit They're Your Dads, Angst with a Happy Ending, podfic of and having a marvellous time by varnes by Spinifex) (link in #6A)

~*~

11. Hello! ITMF current wips? For the last few months Truth Will Out has been super fun to keep up with, but now it is complete I would love to find other wips to follow! Any genre (canon, au, or modern) and any topic/plot! Preferably something that updates with relative frequency, like weekly or every other week. Thank you so much!

No Matter What You Are by LilyFaraday (M, 209k, wangxian, WIP, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Female WWX, MXY is a girl in this one and WWX has to deal with it, Genderbending, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, A lot of comedy coming from WWX dealing with being a girl, and also using it to his advantage, Marriage of Convenience, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, no miscarriage)

A Matter of Time series by mrcformoso (E, 84k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, graphic depictions of violence, underage, LWJ pov, JC pov, dark LWJ, manipulation, grooming, teen body adult mind for LWJ, happy ending for wangxian, problematic consensual underage sex, blood & violence, insane LWJ, manic LWJ) My current MDZS WIP is the A Matter of Time Series, it's currently on worlbuilding extras before the actual sequel. It's update about monthly but considering the amount of thought and worldbuilding and the size of this series I think that's pretty fast hahaha make sure to read the warnings first!

once upon a time, 很久很久以前 by gentil-minou (Flyingsuits) (M, 69k, wangxian, LSZ & WWX, LSZ & LWJ, WIP, Modern, Canon Divergence, Transmigration, of the townwide variety, Amnesia, of the nearly everyone variety, Mystery, of the shenanigans variety, Not Everyone Dies AU, WWX Has Self-Esteem Issues, WWX is sad and down bad, Single Parent LWJ, except a-yuan runs away to find his other dad, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Minor Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending, Once Upon a Time Fusion, Curses, part of the fun is figuring out how to make these characters as miserable as possible :) ) may i offer up my wip? Updates arent thay frequent cause each chap is over 15k but im hoping to post the next chap this month!

🔒 The Second Hand Unwinds by trulywicked (E, 51k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, WIP, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Time Travel Fix-It, Not JC Friendly, Not Yunmeng Jiang Sect Friendly, Not Jiāng Family Friendly, Not YZY Friendly, Time Travelling LWJ, Protective LWJ, Fluff, Minor Angst, Minor Character Death, JGS is his own warning, Wooing, LWJ is romantic af, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Protective Gusu Lan Sect, Supportive LXC, Good Uncle LQR, WWX Protection Squad)

A-Yuan's Big Adventure by KatanaHatake (G, 13k, wangxian, WIP, Time Travel, transmigrator LSZ, Found Family, Canon Divergence, Parents LWJ & WWX, People believing WWX birthed A-Yuan, Eventual Happy Ending, Accidental Baby Acquisition)

We Meet at the Thousandth Step by Admiranda, Rynne (T, 273k, wangxian, CSSR/WCZ, WIP, Canon Divergence, No Sunshot Campaign, CSSR & WCZ Live, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Different First Meeting, Night Hunts, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Romance, Drama, Fluff, Strangers to married, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Everyone Lives AU, Developing Relationship, Minor Violence, Case Fic, Mystery, Flirting, WWX's Canon-Typical Flower Flirting, Arson, There Was Only One Bed, Getting Together, First Kiss, Meeting the Parents, Resolved Sexual Tension, Resolved Romantic Tension, WWX Is a Good Big Brother, New Relationship Bliss, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, Blood and Injury, Yiling siblings)

🧡 The Shade of Old Trees by Kryal (T, 266k, WIP, WangXian, Ridiculously Long Notes, History, Canon Divergence, Modern AU, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding, Slow Life, Action/Adventure, Magic Returns, BAMF WWX)

At heart by apathyinreverie (M, 28k, wangxian, WIP, Dark LWJ(Ish), Amnesia, WWX gets to be Not Okay after the BM, Hurt WWX, Recovery, Caring, Protective LWJ, Possessive LWJ, some definite manipulation, but not everything is as it seems, not nearly as dark as the tags make it sound, Canon Divergence, Golden Core Reveal, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, kind of, Domestic WangXian, Fluff, WWX Goes to Gusu, Possessive WWX, WWX happily atticwifing away, Sunshot Campaign, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ)

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12. Itmf for qiongqi path divergence 🖤

The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou (E, 66k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Blood, Respiratory Illness, Major Illness, Fever, Grief/Mourning, Burial Mounds, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hunger and food scarcity, Surgery, Fix-It of Sorts)

when you're doing all the leaving (then it's never your love lost) by tardigradeschool (T, 23k, wangxian, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Sharing a Bed, Sharing Clothes, Fix-It, the inherent eroticism of under robes, Golden Core Transfer, LWJ finds out about wwx's missing core and says i have plenty to go around)

the cycle of regret by KouriArashi (T, 14k, WangXian, Groundhog Day, Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending)

in this place where we don’t have a prayer by Cerusee, Mikkeneko (T, 42k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, WWX dies at Qiongqi path, Demonic Cultivation)

Home and the Heartland by Witch_Nova221 (T, 210k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, Slow Romance, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Fix-It, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Self-Discovery, Golden Core Reveal)

isn't there a Qiongqi Path canon divergence comp?

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13. itmf fics with Lan Wangji laughing/smiling/giggling etc. The bts of The Untamed with Wang Yibo laughing his ass off are killing me and i need LWG just being happy and laughing now

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14. An ITMF ask: I am looking for fic where WangXian's marriage is being arranged but one or both of them simply don't know about it until late in the game -not just "everyone knows but them" but literally they are being measured for wedding outfits and are clueless. Pining a plus! HEA pls! <3 @kimboo-york

Searching for a Heart by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 21k, WangXian, Modern AU, married at first sight au, this is basically modern arranged marriage, Getting Together, Reality TV AU)

Lead Me On Through by vesna (mrsronweasley) (E, 54k, wangxian, Alternate Universe, Arranged Marriage, Practice Kissing, practice other things, horny boys in love, questionable logic, Questionable Choices, they're dumb but cute, but dumb, but really cute, slight knives, Happy Ending)

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15. itmf modern au inventor wwx, similar to kizukatana's Truth Will Out? thank you for all that u do 💗

💖 One Can Keep A Secret (If He Does Not Know It’s There)by H_Belle (T, 5k, wangxian, NHS & WWX, modern w/ cultivation, inventor WWX, secret identity, identity reveal, YLLZ WWX, rogue cultivator WWX, pining LWJ, WWX pov)

There's An App For Everything by Sweetlittlevampire (G, 4k, wangxian, Modern Cultivation, Rivals to Lovers, Friends To Lovers, Competition, Demon fighting, Getting Together, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Night Hunts, Wangxian x Caves is the real ship here, Happy Ending, Humour)

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16. hi hi! could you recomend any fics where Lan Yuan grows up in Lotus Pier? thank you <3 @nyxiblue

What Remains After the War by Swan_Song (T, 41k, JC & LSZ, JC & JL, JL & LSZ, JL & LJY & OYZZ & LSZ, JC & WWX, WIP, Canon Divergence, LSZ is a Jiang, Good Uncle JC, Cousins JL & LSZ, JC Needs a Hug, JC Needs Therapy, The juniors solve a mystery, Junior Ensemble Shenanigans, Good Uncle LQR, he tries his best, LSZ Needs a Hug)

~*~

17. ITMF any fics where other characters preferably Jin zixuan has an unrequited/one sided crush on Wei Ying. Could be any setting preferably Canon/Canon divergence or with some sort of cultivation and wangxian end game. Gimme all you have please @linossock

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

[delopsia]

every storm runs out of rain | Rhett Abbott x Reader

Word Count: 17,000 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: AFAB!Reader, Hanahaki disease, soulmates AU, childhood friends to lovers, alcohol, food mentions, vomiting, first kisses, thunderstorms, (temporarily) unrequited feelings, almost kiss, unprotected sex, eventual happy endings 🌹. Vaguely based on the Gary Allan song of the same name. Brief Summary: It's a cruelty you wouldn't wish upon your worst enemy. The perpetual ache of your heart, longing for a man who was never meant to be yours. Everything about him is as if he's made for you, and yet, your tattoos don't match. You're not made for each other.

It's hard to tell if the feelings started with the stuffiness in your lungs or if it's something that has always been there. 

An indescribable sort of longing that has flown beneath your radar for the better half of a decade. The kind of thing that has let you assume a false sense of comfort under the title of childhood friend. 

Best friend, if Rhett has a few drinks buzzing through his system. Two shining plaques with your name written across them in bold letters.

But neither of them are what you and your dumb heart crave. The pride of being called his significant other is a feeling you will never know, so long as your tattoos are around to remind you that they don't match. So, so close in nature, and yet, they're not the same. 

It's a cruelty you wouldn't wish upon your worst enemy. The perpetual ache of your heart, longing for a man who was never meant to be yours. Everything about him is as if he's made for you, so perfect he could fit into your life like a puzzle piece, and yet fate has destined him and you to fall in love with strangers. Not each other. 

Never each other. 

That tickling rises in the back of your throat. Snowballing larger and larger until you can no longer—

A horn blares. 

Your head jerks back toward the street just in time to see the passenger door of an old GMC squeal open. Rhett. Leaned all the way across his bench seat, hair in his face and all. 

"Y' comin' or not?" He chirps, already beginning to impatiently pat on the cloth seat, beckoning you in like he would a stray cat.

In this cold little town, your heart burns a little warmer.

How he got here so fast, you'll never know, but you've never been more thankful for it. Water splashes beneath your feet, darting toward his truck and away from the crowd of people raging on behind you. Up into your designated place in his passenger seat, slamming the door closed before you've even gotten settled, effectively shutting off the thumping music and flashing neon lights.

"How did you know where I was?" Because last you recall, you never told him about where you were headed tonight. 

Rhett just hums, the noise lost to the rumble of his truck engine. "Recognized the floor in the picture y' sent." 

Of course, that would be one of his many odd talents. 

"Being able to identify a bar just from the floor tile might mean you have a bit of a drinking problem, Cowboy," your eyes roll, shifting to rest against the door. 

"Listen," the streetlight catches in his eyes, lighting them up with a memory, "that checkered pattern is cute 'til your head stars spinnin'." 

He's...got a point. 

Ugh. 

The silence that falls into the truck is a comfortable one. It's the kind of quiet that lets you hear the impatient drum of his fingers, dancing to the soft drone of his radio set to an old country station. Backdropped by the sound of water spraying beneath his tires, washing away weeks upon weeks of built-up dirt from the ranch. 

His whole truck could use a good wash, but it won't see a bucket of soap and water until he scores another date with some no-name from the rodeo grounds. Or alternatively, you show up in the middle of the night and scrub it from top to bottom.

Your phone lights up with a text asking about where you went. Sent from some guy you cared so little about that you haven't even bothered to save his number in your contacts. But as you move to unlock the screen, it opens up to a different set of messages. 

You: Nothing quite like being stuck at a bar, waiting on your designated driver to decide she wants to leave. 10:47 PM

Rhett: What's wrong? 10:51 PM

You: I told a guy I didn't want to dance, and he 'accidentally' spilled his drink on me 🙄  10:51 PM

You: But my ride doesn't want to leave for another hour or two. 10:52 PM

You never noticed the message that was sent right after yours. 

Rhett: On my way 10:55 PM

Maybe not every man in this world has gone to shit. 

Rhett's hand bumps into your chest, some kind of gray fabric balled up in his hand, "here."

You've seen this old shirt before; it's the first thing he ever bought online, hadn't realized until it arrived that it was a few sizes too big for him. Not particularly ideal for a cowboy who can get caught on equipment, but perfect for your impromptu sleepovers.

"You still have this old thing?" You're already beginning to tug your damp T-shirt over your head. Potential onlookers be damned, you're ready to be free of the overwhelming whiskey bitterness reeking from it.

The back of his knuckles graze up your naked side, guided by the thin path of a decade-old scar. A branding from younger, brighter days; the ones when Cecelia would let you spend weekends on the ranch. Waking up at dawn to help Rhett with his ranch chores because the quicker things got done, the sooner you got to run down and play in the creekbed. 

"Still can't believe that piece of glass marred ya like that," Rhett mutters after a long moment. You can't see into his thick skull, but you've got a feeling that he's got a similar memory flickering through his mind. 

"To be fair, I did fall on it," slipping your arms through the clean shirt, you pull it over your head, and once again, that old scar is out of sight. 

That half-hearted chuckle sends a warmth rushing through your veins. The exact one that shouldn't be there. But he hasn't the slightest clue of the wildfire sitting next to him, back to tapping along on his steering wheel as he drives through the main stretch of town. Past feedstores, tourist shops, dinners, the grocery store, and every other little niche boutique hidden between. 

"Thank you." You hardly recognize that it's you speaking. Hadn't realized it was your voice until the sound of it met your ears.

It's a little too quiet in this truck.

But Rhett just reaches over to shake your shoulder. "Y' don't gotta thank me for shit like that," for a fleeting second, he's got just enough time to look away from the road and offer you a lazy smile. "'s what friends do, ain't it?"

Your chest feels like it's been stuffed with cotton. Meek, you nod, attention suddenly on the floorboard and nothing else—nothing else to say. 

Yeah. That's what friends do. 

He doesn't make mention of it, but you've got the feeling that your SOS text must have interrupted another one of his dates. A pile of rose petals rests at your feet, scattered as if they've been swept off the seat in a hurry to make space. Caked in mud and the rainwater that tracked in from your shoes. Storebought, that much you know for sure.

Roses don't grow in Wabang. 

The next time you see him, it's planned. 

You have, for some reason, allowed yourself to become roped into the craze of Wabang's beloved Sugarbeet festival. Right smack dab in the middle of some old ranching land that the county bought some years back. It would have been a pleasant idea if the festival was hosted in spring or autumn and not in the blistering heat of summer. Not an ounce of shade to be found, nothing but cheap tents to protect you from the beating sun. 

It's the kind of misery that makes the outdoors feel like a goddamn oven, and heading out to start your car is its own kind of devil. The air jammed in your AC blasts your face with the boiling winds of hell itself. So damn intense that if Rhett's truck weren't crawling down your driveway, you would have canceled and called it a day.

And you're so glad that you didn't, because good lord. 

The last thing you expected was for Rhett to hop out in that unbuttoned flannel, broad chest on display for all to see. The sleeve falls just far enough from his shoulder that you can see the scar hiding below his left collarbone. 

"Quite the festival outfit you've got," you chirp, dragging your eyes away from his bull tattoo and over to a nearby tree, feigning interest. The back of your throat is starting to tickle, lungs tight as you fend off the urge to cough. Not here, not here, not here.

He laughs, "What, y' don't think I look good like this?"

You do, but he doesn't need to know that. Not in the slightest. 

"Its...certainly a choice," faking a grimace, you turn your attention back to your car, slowly but surely growing cooler the longer it runs. A pleasure that Rhett and his broken air conditioning unit haven't known since last summer. 

You don't mind the idea of it staying broken if he keeps showing up at your house looking like this. Even if that does mean that you become his ride on the hotter days, fearing an onset of heat stroke. 

The passenger door is silent as he opens it. No longer squealing due to whatever he and Royal did to it last weekend. Being friends with a family of DIY ranchers has its perks. 

Thunk_

"Shit." 

You blink. Was that...?

Yeah. 

It was. 

As if last time wasn't enough of a lesson, Rhett's got his knees pinned up against your glovebox, the seat too far forward for him and his big body to fit. Though this time, he isn't hurriedly pawing at the seat levers like he'll die if he doesn't get any more space. Instead, he's resigned to a frown. More annoyed with himself than anything.

"You alright there?" 

Rhett's sigh is so heavy that his shoulders visibly deflate. "Yeah," reaching off to the side, pushing the seat back as far as it can go. "Humbled, but 'm alright."

It's toward the end of your drive that you notice the flower petals sitting on your dashboard. Roses, you think. It must be what you get for leaving your windows rolled down all morning, vulnerable to adventurous squirrels and other varmints that enjoy trespassing into property they don't own. 

They're certainly not from you, and you would have asked Rhett if your destination hadn't come up so quickly. Fighting for a parking space in the withered grass is a bigger task than folks let on. Even with folks on the ground, pointing you to the perfect spot, someone will always try to steal it out from under you. 

For a festival in such a small town, there is a hell of a lot going on inside of it. Food trucks, concession stands full of sweet treats, craft booths, and cheap knick-knacks bought offline to resell under the guise of being handmade locally. Apple bobbing, the duck pond, and ring toss. There's a precariously placed dragon roller coaster and a horse carousel that Rhett tries convincing you to get on. 

Worse. There are so many people. Faces you recognize and those you've never seen before. Waiting in lines and shoving themselves between you and Rhett because the small gap between your shoulders looked like a good opening to get somewhere quicker. 

"'s a lil crazy out here, don't ya think?" Rhett's asking through a laugh, once again stepping over to you. Two kids dart between you, their hands occupied with bags of fake goldfish. 

Only took a decade for them to learn not to hand out live fish. You can still remember the three you and Rhett got when you were small. One didn't survive the drive back to his house, and the other two managed to stick around long enough to see New Year's. 

Rest in peace, Goldie Junior and Patches.

"I think it's always been crazy," tilting your head to cough into your elbow, dislodging that goddamn tickling sensation—you look away before you can see what it is. 

There's a girl off to the side, staring in your direction. Or rather, Rhett's direction. Long, wavy hair and a delicate sundress, the kind of woman who looks like she's walked right off the beach cover of a magazine. Her warm gaze has long since settled on Rhett; it's a look you've seen a million and one times at the rodeo. The one that gets him a little weak in the knees.

You look away as quickly as they flickered over there. If you don't make eye contact, maybe she won't come over to introduce herself. 

"We weren't that bad, though," but then, pausing to look at you, concern lacing his narrowed gaze, "...right?" 

Rose-tinted memories flicker through your mind. Rhett falling and breaking his wrist after taking you out on a green horse. Trespassing onto the Tillerson property to play with Luke and Billy, only to get hauled home in the back of a police cruiser, 'cause their momma didn't care much for you two. Getting busted, sneaking out your bedroom window to go spend the night with Rhett. All those times, you had to run through back alleys together because you'd been caught out after Wabang's curfew. 

"I like to think we were relatively well-behaved," concluding after a moment. Though your families may have a vastly different opinion on that. 

Laughter rumbles from you at the same time it does from Rhett, shoulders bumping together. Sends a little shock of warmth rippling through your bones, twisting around your heart like briars.

Maybe the conversation would have lasted longer if you didn't get distracted. Rhett lays eyes on a truck dedicated to a locally crafted beer, and the small frame of a self-serve station from the local candy shop catches your attention. It only makes sense that you would step aside and regroup in a few minutes. You're in desperate need of a breather before that girl works up the nerve to approach him and turns you into a third wheel. 

There's more to this little station than what initially met the eye. It's shelves full of caramel apples, peanut brittle, fudges of every flavor you can imagine, covered pretzels, cookies, and hard candies galore. And here you thought that it would have been wiped clean by the folks who came early in the morning before the sun could reach mind-numbing temperatures. Even your favorite candy is here, the last box left on the shelf.

The price is a little steep, but the flavor of them on your tongue is enough to distract from the pained cries of your wallet. If Rhett knew these were here, then he absolutely would have skipped out on beer in favor of convincing you to split them together—the candy mooch. 

But you must have taken too long to make your decision because you don't see Rhett. Not by the crudely decorated truck, and he said he would be waiting next to the old wooden bench under the oak tree, but it's entirely empty. Not a cowboy in sight. That stuffiness arises in your throat again. 

Maybe he's...

"Hey!" A herd of kids are darting around you. Like a bunch of cats scrambling from the bang of a tractor. One slams into the side of your leg as she rushes past. It doesn't affect her in the slightest, but your feet stumble. Knocked off kilter. Your open container of candy threatens to spill onto the dirt. 

 But then another kid is bursting through the crowd, and this one... 

You recognize this one. 

"Amy?" 

She doesn't need to say a damn thing. Her wide eyes tell all you need to know. 

The crowd is too tall for her to see over it, but as she tugs you along behind her, you've got the feeling that she knows exactly where she's going. Navigating the festival based on terrain alone, over thinly spread gravel, and down a broad dirt path. Her hand clings to your wrist so tightly that her knuckles have gone white. 

You don't know who she's bringing you to or what could have happened. But it has to be something. Perry could have fallen into another one of his rages. Rhett very well may be doing something dumber than getting a DUI on the back of a horse. Or, or—

It's both of them. 

Perry's clawing at Trevor like a goddamn cat. His teeth bared like an animal. Crazed. Feral. Someone's got him by the collar. But it's not doing anything. He barks something incoherent. Jabbing a pointed finger at Trevor. Amy's shoulders jolt. Squeezing your wrist impossibly tighter. 

Plaid shirts scuffle behind them. Cowboy boots and Prada sneakers kick up plumes of dirt. Two brick walls slamming into one another. Caught in a spiral until someone makes the first pull backward. Luke's fist connects with Rhett's jaw. 

Flower petals burst into the air. 

All of a sudden, Luke is jumping backward, his palms raised to the sky. A rare white flag. One that you didn't even know was in the Tillerson arsenal. "I'm sorry, man," is all he can say. Pale as a damn ghost. 

Almost pale as the baby pink petals fluttering onto the dirt floor. 

"Is that..." Amy's the one to break the silence, looking your way as if you hold all the answers. In a sense, maybe you do. "I thought it was a myth?"

Air catches in your windpipe. Feels like you're about to choke. "I did, too." 

What the fight was over, you're not sure. It couldn't have been something serious; they've dropped the issue far too quickly for it to be something worth fighting over. There and gone within the blink of an eye. The Tillerson brothers are dispersing into the crowd without another foul word, Rhett's wordlessly pawing at the fresh red mark on his jaw, and Perry's barking something you don't care to hear. 

Amy's long nails are biting into your skin, threatening to tear through and draw blood, but you can't ask her to loosen up or let go. The sting is half the reason you haven't unraveled like a loose ball of yarn. It isn't enough to stop your lower belly from twisting and turning, a bitterness rising in the back of your raw throat.

"Sorry," Rhett's voice comes so suddenly that you jolt. 

"I leave you alone for five minutes." Your tone comes out blander than you intended, doesn't match the roll of your eyes, deliberately avoiding the sight of flowers lying in the dirt.

He must catch onto it because his frown deepens. But he doesn't say anything, and neither do you. Only offering a wave and a forced smile when Amy ultimately ventures off with Perry for another one of his ice cream apologies. Those seem to be happening more and more lately. 

Hypothetically, someone should say something. Explain what the fight was about, how he got across the festival so damn fast. Was the beer any good? Want to share this candy before your jaw starts to ache like a bitch? The words are flickering through your head a million miles a minute, but not a syllable makes it to your tongue. 

"It's over someone at the bar," Rhett's admission comes in the tune of a guilty child confessing to breaking a vase. Meek. Like he'll fall apart if pushed any harder. "If that's what y' were wanderin'." 

Falling back into the character of annoying best friend is easy. All you've got to do is throw your weight into his side, not strong enough to deliver a playful shove. "So there really is another person stuck with that god awful tattoo," letting your mouth rise into a smile, almost thrilled to be pulling this off so well.

"Hey!" He's pushing you back, laughing, though he's careful not to knock you off your feet this time."'Least mine ain't a shoe."

Defiant, you raise your left arm, the tattoo on your wrist just as dark and bold as it was the day you were born. "It's a lucky horseshoe, thank you very much." 

And just for a little bit, you can deceive yourself into thinking you can still breathe.

You never do put the passenger seat back into its place. It's so far back that you catch yourself thinking it's not there at all; more than once, you clamber into the vehicle and think someone has robbed you of it. A part of you wishes it would happen. That some ridiculous bandit would break in and take that seat. 

It would be doing your dignity a favor; you're acting as if he's dead. 

You passed his truck on the way over here, parked outside the Handsome Gambler. If you weren't worried about wrecking, you would have tried to get a glimpse through the open door to spot him with his shiny new soulmate. 

A good friend would stop in and say hello; if she makes Rhett happy, then you should be happy. It should be on the forefront of your mind; you're three stores down from the bar, but your feeble heart jerks in your chest with a familiar sourness. Hand trembling, struggling to hang onto this little bag of chips. 

A good friend would be happy for him. 

But you're not a good friend. 

And if this cashier doesn't hurry up, you might also become a horrible customer. Your stomach is twisting like you're about to puke, something bitter rising in the back of your throat. Damn near dropping the receipt when she hands it to you, shoving it into the bag, and darting out the open door. 

You hardly make it to the edge of the sidewalk. Keeling over with a wretched noise. 

But the only thing that comes up is the shit that's been lodged in your chest all afternoon, stubbornly sitting in your chest with the weight of a damn elephant. Refusing to move, restricting your airway until you crack, and confess your feelings to a man who was never meant for you. 

"Hey!" 

Bleary, your eyes peel open. Really hope they're not talking to you. 

"I have your sidekick!" Sherrif Joy's voice cuts across the night air like a knife. Swift and straight to the point.

Turning your head might be the thing that puts you on the ground, vision spinning like your eyes have gone loose in your skull. Funny. You can almost deceive yourself into thinking that's Rhett she's towing along.

Maybe because it is him. Boots dragging against the sidewalk, shoulders so loose that they sway in the wind, eyes hardly open, simply led along by the hand Joy has on his bicep. You've got just enough time to paw at your mouth with your sleeve before she's close enough to notice that something may be off.

"I know he's not your responsibility," the glint in her eye suggests she's getting more amusement out of this than she should be. Probably because this wouldn't be the first, second, or third time that she's sought you out. "But he wouldn't shut his mouth when he saw you."

Rhett's grin is too bright for his flushed face. "Hi." 

You don't need to look at your phone to know that it's too damn early for this, and yet, you can't seem to muster up the slightest bit of irritation as you ask. "How are you already drunk at eleven at night?" 

"I—" Hiccup. "Been here all evenin'." Shreds of red rose petals cling to his lips, flaking off with the movement of his mouth and fluttering to the ground like rain.

Oh, Rhett. 

"If you don't want him, I can bring him to the station," Joy always says this, the same damn line over and over, as if she doesn't know what you will ultimately say, "it's no big deal for me." 

Looping your hand through the handle of your grocery bag, you reach out to take Rhett by the wrist. He comes to you easily, long arms reaching out to wrap around you, clinging like an oversized piece of velcro. 

"I'll take him," feigning annoyance is impossible when he's smiling at you like that. Drunk but completely and utterly happy to be with you. 

If only he looked at you this way when he's sober.

Getting him to the car might be the hardest part of this excursion; it takes you and Joy to get him into your passenger seat without banging his head on the roof like last time. But this isn't your first Drunk Rhett Rodeo; Lord knows it ain't Joy's either. It might even break your previous record of five and a half minutes. Not that you were counting.

"Where we goin'?" He chirps the moment you've clambered into the driver's seat. 

"Home." It's the only response you've got. Not entirely sure if he's got the capacity to follow long sentences. 

But his head cocks to the side like a goddamn puppy. "My home, or...home home?" 

Ice forms in your wrist. Suddenly caught before you can turn the key in the ignition. Is he...? It's gotta be. What else would he be referring to? 

"Home home?" More of a question than anything, but he's not sober enough to notice the difference. That grin simply grows a little bigger. His boots kicking against your floorboard, happy as a clam in high water. 

It doesn't fade, either. Even as you get the car going, and he fusses about leaving his truck behind, he doesn't lose the excitement that bloomed the moment he laid eyes on you. Content to sit here and let you drive, looking out the window and commenting on whatever he sees. The crazy lady on Second Street has added more flamingos to her lawn hoard, and someone's mailbox has been knocked over. What does that sign say over there? 

"So what's your soulmate like?" You ask, reaching to turn down the radio. "You haven't said anything about her." 

Rhett's shoulders rise and fall with a shrug so subtle that you nearly miss it. "They're alright," pause. Then, a weary laugh. "I jus' wish they'd like me back."

Yeah. You understand the feeling. 

He doesn't seem to notice the petals clinging to the lower strands of his hair and into his flannel, hanging off the edge of his pocket and accumulating in his lap. They're identical to the ones sitting on your dash, dry and shriveled from the sun, bouncing as your front tire hits a pothole. 

Now that you give it some thought, you suppose that's why he's drunk. 

"My throat hurts," he grumbles out of the blue, rattling you from the sanctuary of your thoughts. 

You hum, not entirely there. "Getting sick?" 

Quiet, he reaches into his flannel pocket, producing a small assortment of something green. Rose stems, their thorns stained with crimson. There's no way that he's...

Your tire smacks the edge of a curb. The steering wheel yanking out of your hands.

Shit. 

Right. The road. 

"You've been coughing those up?" Voice strained by your heart, sitting high in your esophagus. You're so damn lucky that was a concrete curb and not another car. 

And yet, you dare to peer at him through your peripheral. Those stems still resting in his big palm, as if he doesn't have the strength to put them away again. You reckon he's not sober enough to have noticed your mistake. He would have commented on it by now, making fun of it as if he's any better of a driver. 

"Fuckin' hurts," it comes out softly, a confession that his own ears are afraid of. 

And it's the kind of statement that echoes throughout your car for the rest of the drive. Rattling between the pauses between songs and bubbling to the surface at every lull of the music. Clouded over by too many wonderings of how long he's been quietly dealing with the roses growing in his lungs. A condition so extreme that the stems are beginning to come up, too. 

You would ask why he's never told you about this, but...

Rhett's head cracks against the window with a heavy thunk as you pull into the driveway. So sharp and sudden that you fear he's broken the glass. But the only wound to come out of it is the red spot on his forehead, the color already rising to the surface by the time you put the car in park.

"Did that hurt?" It's impossible to ward off the lightness in your tone; a smidgen amused. 

"Nuh-uh," but he's rubbing at it like it does. 

You shouldn't have believed him, either, because by the time you get him through the door, it's already begun to swell. Miniscule at first, but if you give it some time, it'll grow into a proper bump. One that he'll grimace at in the morning but will lie through his teeth when you ask if it's hurting him. 

If he were sober, he would be nipping at your palm for daring to venture near his face; you can hear it now, the prematurely yelped "'m alright!" before you've even opened your mouth. But he's not sober. Has to put his hand on your waist to stabilize himself, not entirely aware of how you're curling your hands around his cheeks, holding him still. 

You don't think this one will rise too horribly, but you've been wrong before. Like how you insisted the cut on your side was just a scratch and wound up needing more stitches than you knew how to count. 

"Will you let me put ice on it?" You find yourself asking, your fingers drifting up to smooth over the bump. 

Defiant, his head shakes. 

"What if I order a pizza? Will you let me then?" Trying again. But even at the prospect of his favorite drunk snack, he's not interested. 

"Ice cream?" No.

"A movie?" Wrong again.

"Two movies?" Nope.

"A promise to never speak of this again?" Nada.

Huffing, you let go of his face, throwing your hands in the air instead. "Is there anything I can bribe you with?"

His brows furrow. A thought flickers behind his eyes.

Slowly, he nods. 

You've got a bad feeling about whatever this could be, but God, it's too late for you to care. "What is it?"

Even if he would have let you go on for the next century, you would have never guessed that he wanted this. 

Here in the soft sanctuary of your cozy little unmade bed, nestled beneath the myriad of sheets and blankets that you swore you'd throw into the washer three mornings ago. There might be a few crumbs left over from your snack last night, too distracted by the video on your phone to notice the mess until it was too late. 

The state of it all would bother you under normal circumstances, but you reckon you're getting contact drunk. Head spinning at the sight of this cowboy, snug as a bug in your bed, his cheek squished against the spare pillow. His arm has wound up draped over your side, over the sheets, and you can't remember when your hand drifted to his face, thumb swiping back and forth over his scruffy, unshaven jaw.

For once in your life, you can breathe.

You've started to forget what that was like.

He's so unnervingly close that you reckon he can hear the hammer of your heart rattling against your chest like a caged animal. Furious. Determined to burst through and spill its contents for him to see. The devil on your shoulder suggests that you should let it happen; chances are, he won't remember any of this come morning. But the soft, whiney voice of the angel reminds you. 

Rhett's got a soulmate. And it isn't you. 

"What made you ask for this, anyhow?" The sound of your voice comes as a surprise; one of those thoughts that have journeyed to your mouth, rather than staying up in your head. 

Those sleepy blues peel open; maybe the slightest bit cross-eyed perfectly matches that crooked little grin. "'s like a sleepover."

There's a word you haven't thought of for a while. Probably hasn't surfaced in your vocabulary since your early teenage years, arising in arguments about how unfair it was that hitting puberty meant no more sleepovers. It was okay before, so why did it become a problem when your ages started ending in 'teen'? 

Hesitant, your attention drifts to the tattoo on your wrist—that not-so-lucky horseshoe. A symbol that only became a problem in your second year of high school when your heart decided that it wanted your best friend over a soul mate. "Like the ones we're banned from?"

"Uhuh," his foot juts out to kick your ankle, "'cause we're too damn old." 

You're kicking him back before you can think twice about it. Old habits be damned; you're not letting him get a shot in without getting one yourself. But he's already fighting back, socket feet smacking against yours. Tangling. Fighting to get one punch in over the other. His leg bangs against your knee. Your hands lightly shove against his chest. 

All of a sudden, Rhett's lurching forward.

The room spins.

And you're lying on your back. Caged beneath the broad frame of a man proven to handle animals over a thousand pounds heavier than you. His hands planted on either side of your head, knees straddling your hips. Long hair strays into his face, slipping out from behind his ears, but it's not enough to block your eyes from locking.

You're itching to reach up and tuck it back into place. To drift your palms across the roughness of his cheeks and trail a thumb over those thin lips. They're bitten to all hell, but try as you might, you can't imagine they're anything other than soft. 

Time itself might have stopped. 

God. You can't breathe. Don't know if it's from the infestation building in your lungs or the overwhelming scent of alcohol on his tongue. 

Or maybe...maybe it's because he's gradually growing closer. Minimizing the gap between your bodies, inch by debilitating inch. An image plucked right out of your own imagination, replayed a hundred and one times. 

But this version of Rhett doesn't belong to you. 

The one in your head didn't reek of whiskey and beer. 

"Rhett..." You're whispering as if anything louder will shatter you like glass. But he's still...he's still leaning in, and, and— "Rhett. You're drunk."

He freezes. Stiff as a board. Eyes so wide that his irises look tiny. 

"Shit," jerking away as if he's been burned, "sorry." 

This time, when his back hits the bed, your belly doesn't fill with butterflies. It fills with something much, much worse. 

It's the silence that eats at you the most. He's right next to you, and yet, not a word can leave your mouth. What if you hadn't stopped him? Did he confuse you for the pretty thing at the bar, wandering around with the same marking as him? Your heart lurches in your chest, tummy twisting sourly. God, why are you even entertaining this sort of thing? 

He's your friend. Friends don't think of each other like this, especially when one of them has a soulmate waiting on them. 

A funny feeling swells in the back of your throat, stomach gurgling so loudly that it's got Rhett tilting his head to look at you. 

"Are y—"

You're getting up before he can finish talking. Darting for the bathroom for the umpteenth time today. 

You wake to an empty bed. 

Sunlight trickles through the cracks in the blinds, illuminating the freshly made sheets that Rhett once occupied, tucked in the best he could get it. He's been gone long enough for them to feel cool to the touch, but you can't hear him moseying around your house, either.

Your bare feet drift across the chilly, wooden floor, still frozen with midnight's temperature drop. Where Rhett would typically bump the thermostat up a couple of degrees, today, it sits the same as you left it. 

"Rhett?" Voice a smidgen too fragile for the hammering of your heart. 

All you receive is an echo, variants of your own tune. His boots are missing from where they once sat by the front door, and when you creep far enough to peer through the kitchen window into the backyard, you don't find him there, either. The ice pack has been resting in the freezer long enough to begin hardening again. 

And your phone left sitting on the counter overnight, contains a notification from everything and everyone, except for one man. Still the same text messages from three days ago, no matter how many times you refresh the page. But the magnetic whiteboard on the side of your refrigerator has a new smiley face on it. 

...and the marker is once again missing.

With a sigh, you reach for the phone, fingers tapping away at the keyboard.

You: Hey, cowboy, you've got something of mine. 09:47 PM

It's not until after you've got a morning drink in hand that you recognize the tire tracks in your front yard. The grass flattened in the corner of your driveway in a fashion that only Perry Abbott can pull off. No matter how many times he's driven here, he's always overshot the turn and ventured into the lawn.

Your phone is still quiet when you cruise through town a little after nine. Rhett's truck is missing from its place in front of the bar, the space now occupied by a vehicle that the Abbotts can't afford. 

 On its own, your heart lurches in your chest. The tail end of a blue pickup is poking out from a streetside parking spot just down the main drag, and that's got to be him. You know this town like the back of your hand. There aren't many trucks that look like Rhett's. If you catch him now, maybe you can smooth things over regarding last night. Before the dust begins to settle and erode away at your psyche—

But Rhett's truck doesn't have stickers. 

This time, you don't make it to the bathroom before that damned sickness overtakes you. Spewing onto the side of the road at the only red light in town, right in front of the old cafe with its outdoor seating. 

A hangover would be more dignifying. At least then, a little old lady wouldn't be tilting her head at you, her kind, wrinkled eyes soft as she offers you a smile. You understand that look more than you'd like to admit. 

It's the same expression you carried when those petals burst from Rhett's mouth. 

You: Hey, cowboy, you've got something of mine. Yesterday.

Odd. Usually he responds fairly quickly, at least when it comes to him hijacking one of your belongings, but maybe he's busy. Summer has never been kind to the Abbotts, between blistering heat and cattle who love to take down the southern fences to get at the neighbor's grasses. Judging by the forecaster rambling on the news, things aren't about to get easier, either. 

You: Hey, cowboy, you've got something of mine. Two days ago.

You: I'll give you a hint. It writes in purple ink. 07:33 PM

No dice. 

How are you meant to leave reminders in the kitchen when a rogue cowboy has pocketed your only marker? It's barely been three days, and you've already started to forget things. Today was laundry day, but now you're standing here, swaddled in Rhett's oversized shirt because it's the only clean thing you have left. Maybe there is a benefit to not returning his clothes. You were meant to go get a spice for this new recipe but didn't remember until you were halfway into working on it. Come to find out, that recipe really, really relied on it. 

You can try to blame your lack of an appetite on your cold, unseasoned dinner all you want, but it only goes so far. Heart lurching in your chest, as the screen lights up with a text.

Autumn: Still coming with us Friday night? 👀 07:51 PM

 You: Hey, cowboy, you've got something of mine. One week ago.

You: I'll give you a hint. It writes in purple ink. Five days ago.

You: I'm going to call a bounty hunter if you continue this hostage situation. Three days ago. 

You're getting sick of feeling your heart twist every time you look at this damn screen. But that stupid son of a bitch still hasn't—

"Excuse me," a lady whispers, squeezing past you, "I'm sorry." 

The entrance of Odessa's probably isn't the best place for you to be checking your phone, now that you think about it. 

That's alright; you're already sliding the device into your back pocket, reaching to catch the door before it can close behind her. You've wasted enough time for your friends to have already secured a spot at the Handsome Gambler. It's a wonder nobody hasn't given you a ring to make sure you weren't nabbed off the street. 

Stepping outside does nothing to ward off the drone of multiple shop televisions. All of them moan about how another wicked storm is due to ravage Wabang and every town around it. Same channel. Same woman talking. Same obnoxious blue background. It's a tale you've heard so many times that you can nearly quote it word for word. 

There's a serious storm rolling in tonight. Tornadoes and hail are possible. Here's what to do in a tornado. Do not do these five things in a tornado. Download the news app to stay connected. Tune back in soon to find out if the forecast has miraculously gotten better or worse! 

Looking overhead, you can already see the dark accumulation in the distance, a humid breeze tickling your neck as it drifts past. It feels just like the night you and Rhett rode out into the west pasture to watch the storm roll in. 

Sitting in the grass, watching those dark gray clouds roll closer and closer whilst the horses relaxed behind you, their attentions focused solely on the greenery below. You can still hear the tune blaring from the speaker of his phone. He'd really thought he was clever, playing that Gary Allen song about how every storm runs out of rain. It wasn't so cute when the south pasture flooded. 

A laugh cuts across the evening air. Sharp and pitchy enough to have your head tilting in the direction of it. Right behind you, on the corner of the block. 

Maria Olivares. That's a face you haven't seen in a long while. Wasn't she off to medical school, a couple hours away from here? Who in the world could she possibly be...

You know that cowboy. 

Puzzle pieces click into place. The darkened mark gracing her inner wrist. Too small for you to make out. How she giggles and batts her eyes up at Rhett, as he talks about something in that wonderfully deep voice of his. 

Of course, Rhett's soulmate would be Maria. How could it not be? No wonder why he was so crazy about her in high school; they've got the same damn marking on their bodies. 

As if to spite you, a muscle spasms in the juncture of your wrist. Sourness bubbles in the back of your mouth, but for once, you're able to swallow it down. Not here. Not when either of them can turn their heads and realize that you're standing in the middle of the sidewalk, staring like some kind of creep. Even coming from a childhood best friend, that would be weird. 

"Are you in line?" 

You jerk backward. Wide eyes landing on the wirey frame of some middle-aged man standing in front of you. He motions, with the brim of his hat, toward the door. The Handsome Gambler. Your destination.

"Distracted," you blurt, scurrying to grab the handle before he can, "sorry."

"There you are!" A glass of beer rises from the opposite end of the bar. Autumn. "I was fixin' to come looking for you!"

You have to wait until you're within earshot before you can respond to her, squeezing past the group of cowboys crowded at the corner, watching a PBR ride on someone's cellphone. "I was eavesdropping," You supply, can't keep a damn thing to yourself these days, "Maria Olivares must be Rhett's shiny new soulmate."

Autumn's jaw slackens, eyes so big they might comically burst out of her skull, "are you kidding?" 

One of her friends, you forget her name, gives you a gentle nudge with her arm. You suppose Autumn has already filled her in about your situation. "How did you find out?" Her tone is gentle, nearly washed over by the music blaring from the stereo. 

"Saw them laughing together in the street." There's more to that statement, context, and a reason behind why you've come to that conclusion, but Autumn is taking a brightly colored drink from the bartender, passing it your way.

The Handsome Gambler and mixed drinks do not go hand in hand; there's always too much or too little of something. But out of the corner of your eye, you can see the door opening, two familiar frames entering the bar, the happy new couples themselves. 

Tonight, you don't give a damn what these things taste like. So long as it makes you forget the sour twist in your chest, lungs tightening as if all the air has been sucked from them. Without second thought, you bring the glass to your lips.

It doesn't leave until it's halfway empty, and that's only because the need for oxygen has grown superior. 

The lady behind the bar lifts a freshly cleaned shot glass. You've got a feeling that she's overheard your ramblings. "Need something stronger?"

She doesn't need to say another word. "Absolutely." 

One shot. 

Fuck this town.

A second. 

And fuck Rhett Abbott. 

You're feeling delusional enough to ask for a third, but Autumn's nudging you a glass of water instead. It doesn't have the same bite, but it's equally unpleasant against the back of your throat, still raw and sore. 

Next to you, Autumn and her two friends are already delving into a new conversation. Something about the oddities going on around town and how some old man says he walked into a cave and saw a mastodon. You suppose there must be some inside group dedicated to continuing the claim because it's a rumor you've heard every year. 

A smile fights its way onto your face. You and Rhett used to gear up and go mastodon hunting up on the old trails behind the Abbott property. Royal loved to ask what y'all planned to do with it once you caught it, but you and Rhett never thought that far ahead. 

Your gaze follows the bartender, ready to ask for something sweet, but she's on the other end, gathering a dozen beers for a party that just walked in. Someone leans onto the bar. His head blocking part of your view. But then he looks over, and—

Rhett's eyes widen at the sight of you. By the feel of it on your face, the expression is mutual.

At least, it is for a second. That sourness jumps into your throat. Lower gut churning with a fervor unlike ever before. 

"I'm heading out back," you blurt, hand rising to cover your mouth, "you don't wanna follow." 

The girls frown, but they're certainly not making the risk to stop you. Autumn's already reaching for your drink, accepting your nod as a sign that she can finish off what you've got left. A voice jumps across the blare of the music. Almost sounds like the call of your name. But you don't have the luxury of stopping and looking. 

Your feet are barely falling into line. Rushing to push through the men gathered by the back exit. Past the blasting jukebox. There's that tightness in your lungs again. A thick sensation rising higher. Higher. Higher in your throat. There's the door. There's the door. Your hands are reaching out. Grappling at the handle. 

Hinges squeal open. Shoes scuffing on the concrete. 

Vivid purple petals burst past your lips like goddamn confetti. Stems and all. Ripping past your already battered windpipe and sticking to your tongue, little bits of purple carrying in the wind. 

Those three-petalled flowers were pretty until they started growing in your lungs. You can't stand the sight of them, but you've got no choice but to cough more of them up. As if any amount of effort will make them disappear. 

 A bundle of them have caught in the back of your mouth, stubbornly thwarting your ability to breathe. Light as a feather, your head spins, feet stumbling as you scurry to one of the chairs, sitting against the wall. The plastic groans under your weight, so brittle that it ought to give away at any moment.

Lightning flickers as another wave of flowers rain to the floor, and it's a wonder you can get these out at all. 

The back door opens with a screech. Music pours through the gap, an incoherent tune so loud that you can hardly hear the thunder rolling through town. Someone in boots stumbles out, keeling over.

A bloodstained rose tumbles to the ground, pink and red petals dancing behind it, landing amongst your mess of purple. 

When you lift your head, you know what you're going to see. But that doesn't make the look in Rhett's eyes any easier to bear. Some kind of hellish cross between horror and bewilderment that manages to look akin to a wounded puppy. 

Not a word leaves his mouth. Doesn't get the opportunity to, for that matter, another plume of petals forcing their way past his lips before he can do anything about it. Just the sight of them has that tickle building in the back of your throat, but for the time being, your tank is empty. 

Thunder booms as Rhett falls into the chair opposite you. His hand dips into his flannel pocket, producing...

your marker. 

"'m sorry," he mutters, sentence broken by a cough, "Didn't realize I stuck it behind my ear 'til you texted me."

"Which time?" You can't help the bitterness seeping into your tone, plucking the little writing utensil from his outstretched hand. 

His eyes dart away. 

The tension in the silence doesn't come from the storm. Wind howling around the corner of the building, rustling through the trees. Lightning flickers, illuminating the world around you for the briefest of moments, and just like that, rain begins to fall. Coming down in a thick sheet, so strong that even under the awning, it manages to reach you, mist tickling your skin and dampening your clothes.

Idle, your fingers twist the marker back and forth; it's still warm from where it rested in his pocket, snug against his chest. A part of you wonders if he always runs this hot or if your hands are just cold from the Wyoming air.

"So you and Maria, huh?" Even with the roar of the storm, your voice is too loud; a megaphone in the library would be more tolerable. 

"Nah, I just ran into her 'bout a half hour ago." Rhett's head shakes, eyes on the floor. "We were both goin' to the same place, 'n that was about it."

"Damn, and here I thought she was your soulmate." You hate that a selfish part of you floods with relief. So overcome with it that you can feel the way your shoulders drop. "It would have made for the perfect story."

You could have been the perfect story, too.

"I don't know why I liked her in high school," he's continuing, running a hand through his hair, fingers visibly catching on a tangle, "'s like talkin' to a fuckin' wall."

Of all the things you've imagined him saying, that wasn't even close to making it on the list. Though, you can't say he's entirely wrong; ever since that time you got paired with Maria for a history presentation, you haven't been able to see what's so interesting about her, either. Nothing but one-word answers and giggling with her friends while you worked on the assignment by your lonesome. 

It may be petty, but you're still bitter. 

"I'm sorry, I..." Rhett's talking again, caving to the silence that you've unintentionally put between you two. His hands fall into his lap, clasping together. Then, break apart just as quickly, one of them reaching up to rub at his forehead. "I shouldn't have tried to kiss you the other night."

"It's alright—" your tongue pauses before the rest of your sentence can follow. I wanted you to. But you're looking down at your tattoo, and it's still the same horseshoe. It doesn't match Rhett's. 

It will never match Rhett's. 

Finding your voice is damn near impossible, but you do it anyway. "You've done stranger things while under the influence." 

"Like gettin' a DUI on the back of a horse?" He says it so bluntly that you can't help but sputter. 

It's easy. Dissolving into laughter. Peering at each other through smiling eyes. Yeah, getting a DUI on horseback is much, much worse than trying to steal a kiss. You've still got the voicemail from when Joy called you in the dead of night, asking you to come get Rhett and his horse. 

White flashes. Lighting up the world for the briefest moment. An ear-splitting crackle erupts from above. So loud that the town lights flicker in unison like a bunch of candles nearly blown out by the squealing wind. 

"'s gettin' pretty bad out here." The sound of Rhett's voice is nearly lost to the ringing in your ear. 

"Tell me about it," you lean forward, peering over at the miniature river that runs down into the alleyway, carrying with it a parade of purple, pink, and red flower petals. "The road'll be flooded by the time Autumn decides she's ready to leave."

Rhett's head tilts to the side. "You didn't drive?" 

"Couldn't." Shocker, you know. "I had a hot date with a shot of whisky."

"Two from what I saw," so he was watching you do that, huh?

You wink. "I would have made it three if I knew you were watching."

Something crackles in the distance. Maybe a tree struck by lightning, bits of bark falling like rain. A little too close for comfort, whatever it was.

That tickling rises in the back of your throat once more. Forces another cough out of you. The purple petals catch in the wind before they can hit the ground, soaring off like tiny planes. Rhett's eyes follow them until they're out of sight. 

All of a sudden, he rises to his feet, spurs chiming with the motion. Must have forgotten to take those off again. "Need a ride?" Offering his hand. 

You take it before you even realize what he's asking. 

A part of you is beginning to suspect that Autumn can see into the future because she's hardly phased when she turns her head to see you meander back into the bar, hand in hand with Rhett. Her white teeth flash you with a smile, perhaps a little too interested in whatever Billy Tillerson is babbling into her other ear. With their hands intertwined, you can hardly tell that they've got timers imprinted on their wrists, bearing identical numbers.

Autumn doesn't need to ask when you hand her the twenty from your pocket; in the time you've known each other, you've proven to be a creature of habit. Instead, she offers you a wink, not a word said. 

Rhett's already by the door, working his beat-up wallet back into his jeans before he can set it down and forget that it's there. "Y' ready to get wet?" He chirps once you're within earshot. 

You're not, but there's no stopping the rain now that it's coming down. "Ready as I'll ever be." 

The door creeks open. A gust of wind rushes in through the gap. Slams you with the force of a freight train. Damn near strong enough to knock you on your ass. But Rhett's grabbing hold of your wrist and him hauling you forward is the only thing keeping your feet from being swept out from under you. 

Freezing rain splatters against your skin like a million tiny bullets. So sharp you think they might pierce through and come out the other side. A sheet of white blinds you. Forced to lower your head and prey Rhett's hauling you the right direction. The sidewalk is already flooded. Splashing up to lick your ankles. Soaking through your shoes. 

You're moving. You know you're moving. But you might as well be on some hellish treadmill because it doesn't feel like you're going anywhere.

All of a sudden, Rhett's pulling you to the right. Toward the curb. Reaching for the handle. Yanking so hard you can hear it over the rain. 

It opens. You're inside within the very same second. Clambering into the cloth passenger seat, pulling your legs in, just as Rhett slams the door shut. Through the blurry dash, he's only identifiable as a big blue splotch, travelling around the front of his truck. His door rips open just as quickly, the vehicle rocking as he all but throws himself inside.

"'s fuckin' cold!" He sputters, blindly jabbing the key at the ignition. Miss. Miss again. Another miss. He tilts his head. It slides home. 

It's been a minute since the last time you heard this old truck roar to life. Even longer since you've last felt your skin go this numb. Shivering like a leaf, nerves so ruthlessly beaten by the elements that they're shot. There's a texture to this seat. You know there is, but you can't feel it. 

A weary hand darts out. Wavering back and forth. Narrowly misses the little heat dial.

"Ain't got heat, remember?" Rhett almost sounds guilty, though you can't say for sure. It's hard to get a read of his face when he's focused on putting the truck into gear, looking straight ahead as he pulls onto the road. Though you're not entirely sure why, he's still got that old—

...no. His spare shirt is still sitting in your clothes hamper, next in line for a wash. Even if you had miraculously known to carry it with you tonight, there's no way it would have done you any good. Not with how soaked your clothes are, dripping like you've just gone for an impromptu swim in the coldest river you could find. 

Your arms rise to wrap around yourself, clinging to what little body heat you've got left. A jacket. Why didn't you think to carry a jacket? Lightning flickers. Crackling so loudly that you can feel it travel through the ground; almost sounds as if it's laughing at you. 

Even in the safe confines of this truck, the win threatens to wriggle in and get ahold of you. Screaming around the truck. Whipping past light posts. Rattling them so hard that they sway back and forth. Something is telling you that a power outage is in your near-to-distant future. With how you can look out the back window and see it ravaging the main part of town, there's no way it's not going to take out a power line. One little mess up is all it takes to plunge this little town into darkness. 

There's already a tree down. Its long branches obstructing part of the road, forcing Rhett onto the other side to squeeze past. 

"'m I over far enough?" He sounds like he's got a handle on it, head tilting back and forth, drawing the truck closer and closer to the edge of the road. 

Your eyes squint. Struggling to see through the window. "I think so."

It's an obstacle easily overcome, but as you begin to pick up speed once more, a new problem arises. Those poor little windshield wipers can hardly keep up with the rain. Coming down in sheet after sheet, splattering against the glass quicker than it can be swept off. Driving in the ocean would have better visibility.

"Can't fuckin..." Rhett's talking to himself. You hope he's talking to himself because you can't hear him over the chatter of your teeth. Trembling like some kind of exaggerated cartoon character.

The truck gently veers to the right, off into some kind of gravel space on the side of the road, grinding to a halt.

"The— the wipers can't go any faster?" Tongue limp in your mouth. Impossible to move.

Rhett's head shakes. "No, they don't..." 

His eyes lock onto yours. Even that might be enough to eat away some of the ice forming in your bones. His jaw softens. Eyelashes fluttering with an incoming thought.

Slow, his arm rises from his side, extending your direction. "C'mere."

Your breath catches. Is that...no, you....you shouldn't—

"Promise I won't kiss ya," his fingers tap your shoulder, "'m jus' gonna warm ya up."

Another bolt of lightning flashes. 

You're scooting across the bench seat before thunder even has the chance to arise. Slipping beneath his outstretched arm, helpless to do anything but fall into his big chest, equally soaked as you are, but he's warm. A big furnace, wrapping around and squeezing you into him. 

He shifts the slightest bit, leaning against the door, opening himself up for you to properly squirm into his side. With such little space in this truck, it's a squeeze, but you fit nonetheless, cheek resting atop that old bucking bull tattoo, the scruff of his jaw tickling your forehead. 

Another rumble rolls through, wind slamming into the side of the vehicle, rocking it back and forth like some kind of giant cradle. Rhett's legs shift, properly rising up onto the seat, knees knocking into yours as they settle. There's no way that you can feel his body, not with those thick jeans in the way, but a part of you swears that you can. So certain of it that you think the ice in your bones is beginning to thaw.

A big, warm hand runs up and down the expanse of your arm as if to create a little friction there. "Can y' still feel your hands?" He murmurs, voice rumbling against the top of your head, and you think that's the tip of his nose bumping into you.

You're wiggling your fingers, can see them moving in the darkness, but hardly any sensation comes of it. Feels as if you're operating a separate object and not a part of your own body. "I don't know." 

He reaches down, both hands wrapping around yours, and immediately, it's as if you've been set ablaze. Fire burning in your frozen joints, sensitive to even the slightest change in temperature. Rhett's thumb swipes against yours, a rough glide, his skin weathered by a lifetime of labor on the ranch. 

They're so much bigger, too, dwarfing yours in comparison, long and thick with muscle and built-up callouses. He must be noticing it as well because he's sliding his index finger down next to yours, and even in the dark, you can tell that he's at least twice the size. So big that you can hold just the four of his fingers, and not even need the rest of his hand.

You don't know why you're doing this or why he's letting you. 

Careful, your gaze crawls upward, roaming over the wet fabric of his flannel, up his damp neck, and the dripping curls resting at his nape. And he's...

he's already looking at you. Half-lidded eyes fixated on your face, the corner of his lip twitching upward for the briefest moment. A tickle rises in the back of your throat. Nothing comes of it. Lightning lights up the world like a light switch flicked, but you don't hear the thunder that follows. 

His nose bumps into yours. Breath fanning out against your skin. 

This...you shouldn't...but...

Those blue eyes drop down to your lips. Then back up to you. His eyelashes flutter. You think yours might, too. He's so close. Can feel the stubble on his chin brush against you, a fleeting thing that you can somehow still feel, even after the contact breaks. A breath trickles out of your chest. The slightest little movement that brushes your bottom lip against his. And he's not moving away, he's—

An ear-splitting boom tears past the truck. Rattling it back and forth. Sends you and Rhett jumping. Your head bangs against the seat cushion. His elbow hits the horn. 

"The hell..." he grumbles, with a shake of his head. "Was that s'pposed to be thunder?" 

"Is that what it was?" Parroting him, looking toward the window as if that could possibly give you an answer. 

The rain has slowed into a slow trickle that is easily swept away by the windshield wipers, unveiling the world around you once more. You recognize where you're at now, just two or three miles down from your house.  So damn close, and yet...

"Let's get you home," Rhett's sitting up, and you've got no choice but to do so as well. The scoot to the passenger side is almost shameful, the cold, soaked seat squishing beneath you like a sponge. 

A thick collection of petals swell in the back of your throat as Rhett's foot finds the gas pedal once more. Were you about to kiss him? What the hell were you thinking? That isn't how this works. You're not soulmates.

Somehow, the air has grown even colder without him wrapped around you, his very presence haunting you like a ghost. Lingering in the back of your mind so strongly that you can almost deceive yourself into believing that you're still snuggled into his side. But no matter how hard you focus, you can't force it to manifest into reality. 

Cruel is what it is.

Even as the rain picks up once more, it's not enough to pull you over again, swept away from the windshield as quickly as it lands. There's another tree down, but it has barely made its way into the road, such a simple obstacle that only takes a second or two to get past. And just like that, your porch light is emerging in the distance. A golden glow that grows larger by the second, like a tiny sun rising to greet you.

The gravel driveway crackles beneath the tires; it's usually a pleasant sound, but today, all it does is cause your stomach to sink. Such a sour feeling that it rises, flower petals tickling the back of your throat until you cough. Little bits of purple scatter across your lap. Rhett's foot jumps to the brake pedal, a soft squeal emitting from beneath the vehicle as it comes to a stop. 

You've never been so disappointed to see your front door. 

"Thank you," barely a whisper as it leaves your mouth. Anything louder might break you.

He nods, eyes darting from your lap and up to your face. "Yeah." 

The only sound in the truck is that of the frozen rain pitter-pattering on the metal roof. Nothing more. Nothing less. With a forced, tight-lipped smile, you reach for the door handle. It opens with a groan, creating just enough space for you to slip out, the oversaturated ground squelching beneath you. He doesn't say anything as you shut the door, so neither do you. 

Resigned to silence, you trudge through the rain. Wind rips past, determined to lift you up off the ground and whisk you into the sky. But you don't lift off the ground. You don't even slip. Your feet find the front steps of your porch, hand fishing into your pocket and producing a set of drenched keys.

The confines of your home are so much warmer than it was outside, and yet, as you toe off your muddy shoes, you can't help but compare it to Rhett. Your heater may be strong, but it doesn't wrap around you the way his arms did. Big. Secure. The kind of thing you thought only existed in your daydreams. 

Strange, you don't hear his truck pulling out of the driveway. You know he hasn't; that old GMC runs far too loudly for it to slip by unnoticed. Curious, you hook your finger into the blinds, pulling them down.

No, he hasn't moved at all.

...what's he doing out there? Even from here, you can tell that the storm is picking back up again, rustling through the trees, swaying them back and forth. 

Nothing has fallen or otherwise obstructed the driveway, and something couldn't have gone wrong. Not that quickly. Unless he's suddenly developed the ability to hear your heart hammering against your chest, wordlessly begging him not to leave your driveway, there's no reason for him to still be parked. 

The cab light flicks on. Then off again. All of a sudden, he's rounding the back of his truck. You're opening the door, socked feet stepping out onto the cold, wet porch. His spurs chime, boots thumping up one stair. Two. Three. Four. No, no, something must have happened. His eyes are wide, and his jaw is slack, looks half scared to death. 

But he's not stopping. 

"Rhett—"

"I forgot somethin'." One more step, and he's leaning down, and, and...

It's the simplest of things, merely pressing against each other for a long moment, but heaven itself cannot compare to the feeling of Rhett's lips against yours. His nose crushed uncomfortably against your cheek, big hands cradling your cheeks like you'll break if he doesn't. 

Just as quickly, he draws away, soft blue eyes meeting with yours. Lightning flashes, but even the following slam of thunder cannot stop you from grabbing a fistful of his flannel and yanking him in once more. Lips crashing together, feet stumbling with the force of it. One of his arms is wrapping around your waist and your hands are sliding up into his hair. Bold. As if this is familiar, something you've done every day of your lives. 

The press of his mouth and the stubble of his chin are so much more than your imagination ever could have crafted. Warm and scratching against you so deliciously that your head goes quiet. Soul mate markings be damned. This is where you're meant to be. Right here. Twisting your fingers through his unruly curls, gasping against him. Drowning as he kisses you again, and again, and again. 

Your head is spinning. Stumbling blindly as he leans into you, forcing you backward. Your heel catches on the doorway. "Rhett—" But you don't fall. You can't. Not with that strong arm around you. "Cowboy!" 

"You're the only one that's ever called me that." He breaks away, kicking at the door with his foot. There's no doubt a mud stain on the white frame now, but you've hardly got it in you to care. 

"What?" Your nose bumps into his cheek. A little too close.

"Cowboy." He mutters, lips brushing against yours. So, so close. 

A breath hitches in your throat. "Should I stop?"

"Never." And he's kissing you again. 

Muffled thunder rumbles outside, and you're pretty sure the power has gone out, but you can't open your eyes to check. Helpless to do anything but tug on his hair, drinking in his deep grumble like you're starved. You should be embarrassed. Shouldn't be this desperate over a first kiss. 

But Rhett's got it just as bad. Pushing you backward until you're bumping into the wall. His big, calloused hand is venturing beneath your soaked shirt. God, and you're letting him. Back arching as his fingertips trail up your spine, chest pressing into his. Gasping against his lips like you're trying to put on a show. 

More. You want more. Reaching down to toy with the buttons on his shirt, undoing them one at a time, shaking fingers struggling to push them through the holes. Too eager to feel the expense of his chest beneath your palms. 

"You're gonna have t' stop me," Rhett's speaking against your lips, batting your hands away. Makes no effort to finish your handiwork as he yanks the flannel off his shoulders, the final three buttons snapping off and scattering across the hardwood floor.

Before you can stop it, your hand drops to his belt, pulling him closer. Earns you an affectionate chuckle that echoes throughout the house. Those hips of his press forward, obnoxiously large buckle digging into your belly, not an inch of space left between your bodies. 

"Why would I stop you?" It's too early for you to be reaching down to grab at the hem of your shirt, but you don't care. You want this damn thing off. The soaked fabric stubbornly clings to your frame, heavy as you drag it over your head. It hits the floor with a wet thunk, a mess for the future version of you to handle. 

Those deep blue eyes might eat you alive. "Good point." 

It's hard to tell who makes the next move. All you know is that you're leaning in to kiss him, noses crashing together, and his hands are appearing on your ass, squeezing until you get the hint to jump. It all happens so fast. The thunk of your back against the wall. His hips slotting between your thighs. 

"Y' feel what you're doin' to me?" He grunts, and he doesn't need to specify for you to know what he's talking about—heavy bulge straining against his jeans, pressing perfectly against your core, igniting a familiar heat there. 

"Uhuh," is all you're capable of. Greedy hands sliding across his chest and up his shoulders, feeling over all the little freckles and marks that have haunted your imagination. Fuck, and he just lets you. Too busy leaning in to steal a kiss off you. One. Two. Three. Before he shifts to the juncture of your jaw, stubble tickling as he kisses down your neck.  

Your hips buck forward. 

"Fuck," Rhett's voice tickles your ear, "shoulda let me kiss you earlier, sweetheart."

A shiver ripples down your spine. That's new. 

Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. Finding your words is a task in of itself. Hard to do much of anything when his lips find the soft spot beneath your ear, sucking lightly. 

"You were drunk," voice strained, wound too tight in your throat. 

"Felt pretty sober in the moment," He hums, tongue poking out to wet your skin. Fuck, you wonder what that would feel like in other places, thighs squeezing impossibly tighter around his hips, works a groan right out of him. 

Thunder booms outside, but it's not enough to stop your lips from crashing once more. Teeth clattering, hopelessly grinding down into him, and even these layers of clothing can't stop you from feeling the way he twitches. 

It's all a blur. 

One moment, you're up against the wall. The next, you're on the ground again, socks sliding against the floor as you stumble down the hall. Hands tangled in his hair. Gasping against his lips. Moving blindly, too focused on each other to spare even a second. You don't know you're in the bedroom until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the mattress, falling backward with a yelp. 

Fuck, you shouldn't be doing this. There's no reason for you to be letting Rhett Abbott climb into bed with you and slot his big, warm body between your legs. He's your friend. You've known him since you could walk. And these tattoos. They don't match. You're not soulmates. 

Rhett's hand rises, pinning yours to the mattress, fingers slotting together. Must know what you're thinking about. "Who gives a fuck 'bout soulmates," he whispers, leaning forward to bump his nose against yours, rubbing them back and forth. "A damn stranger ain't gonna make me as happy as you do."

And you don't...you don't know what to say. 

Maybe you don't need to say anything because he kisses you like he's heard everything your heart has to tell him. Stealing your breath away, plucking every little flower from your lungs, so dizzying that your legs have to curl around him to keep from floating away. As if you could possibly escape the big, warm arms that have settled on either side of your head. 

Slow, his weight settles on top of you. Bellies snug together. So close that you can hardly grind up into him, reduced to a needy squirm, whining high in your throat. 

"Shh," he coos. A big hand curling around your cheek, thumb stroking the thin skin there. "I'll take care of you."

He's already making good on his promise, pulling away to kiss down your neck once more. Hot tongue poking past his lips, running over a vein, leaves behind a glistening trail as he makes his way to your collar. One of his hands dips behind your back, pinching the clasp of your bra, opens it so easily that it almost surprises you.

The last thing you expect is for him to gasp when he pulls it away. Awestruck by the sight of you, bare, for his eyes only. "So fuckin' pretty," whispering, as he kisses down your chest. Too eager to run his tongue down the swell of your breast, so content that his closed eyes seem to smile. 

Oh, that's...

"Rhett..." Heat swells in your lower belly. The feeling of his tongue swirling around your nipple is...truly something... 

Just as quickly, he's darting to the other one, all too excited to feel the little bud harden beneath his touch. Sensitive. Only takes the slightest bit of suction to make you jolt. But he must have noticed something even more enticing because he's pulling away from that one as well, a big hand rising to toy with it as his head dips down lower. 

A delicate kiss presses to the scar on your left side. 

Then another. And another. And another. Loving on the old wound, as if he can possibly reverse the damage if he gives it enough attention. Maybe just one more kiss will do it. If not, then surely the next one can make it happen.

"It was nobody's fault," you say softly, reaching to run your fingers through his hair once more. Truly, it wasn't. Nobody could have anticipated that shard of glass. 

"I know," the rumble of his voice tickles, pausing to run his tongue up the expanse of the mark, "jus' wish it didn't hurt ya like it did."

Gradually, he draws himself away from your side. Kissing his way down your belly until he meets the thin, delicate band of your underwear. His eyes peer up at you with a silent question. Your answer comes in the form of lifted hips, allowing him to pull the material down your legs. Then, he reaches for his belt, pinching it open with mesmerizing ease.

One boot thunks against the floor. Then the other. You really hope he didn't track mud all over your hardwood.

"You and that obnoxious buckle," the comment slips off your tongue before you can stop it. Too busy watching him undress. It's unfair how well the fabric clings to his thighs, fitting him like a damn glove. 

He laughs, kicking his jeans off his feet. "What, don't think it looks good on me?" 

"If I answer that, your ego will go through the roof." Your eyes roll; the last thing you need to do is tell him that, yes, you do like it. Lord only knows he'll run himself through four more rodeo seasons, trying to score an even bigger buckle. 

"Already has," he winks, hooking a thumb into the waistband of his boxers.

You don't know what he's got to be so confident about until...

"Jesus, Rhett."

"What?" He grins. Absolutely fucking obnoxious. But you can't formulate a single word. "What?"

Your thighs cinch together, hiding yourself from view. There is absolutely no reason why that should be springing up from its confines, so heavy that it smacks against his hip, unable to stand up against his belly. So wet that even in the dark you can see him glistening.

"Naw, y' don't gotta be shy," Rhett's hand travels up your knee, slipping between your closed legs, callouses dragging deliciously against your sensitive skin, "'s just me." 

A little too easily, you fall apart once more, feeling a little too exposed as his hungry eyes rake down your body. Every imperfection and curve is on full display. An exhibit of the life you've lived. And Rhett just might be your biggest admirer, his warm frame slipping between your legs, big hands gliding up your sides, pressing lazy kisses as he settles on top of you. 

"Rhett..." you don't know why you're saying his name, thighs curling around his sharp hips. His cock head bumps into the meet of your thigh, sends you jumping before you can realize what's happened.

"Ain't gonna hurt ya," uttering beneath his breath, a sentiment meant for your ears only. "I promise." He reaches between your bodies, gently guiding himself to—

Your head tilts back with a gasp. That's new. The delicate drag of Rhett's cock, gliding between your folds, the underside of him nudging at your clit. Hadn't realized you'd gotten this worked up until now, so wet that you can almost convince yourself that you don't need any lube at all. Not a hint of dryness to be found, sliding so, so easily against you.

But then you're gathering the courage to peer down between your legs, and even the darkness can't hide how big he is. Thicker than your daydreams have ever depicted, just a hair longer than any of the toys hiding beneath the bed.

"Bedside table," you blurt, heart fluttering in your chest. Walking is a privilege you'd like to keep. 

An unforeseen positive to letting your best friend between your legs is the fact that he knows exactly what you're trying to say. No need for questions as Rhett reaches off to the side, hand disappearing into the drawer. Comes back with the bottle, then delves back in, producing some tiny, round hunks of plastic.

You don't recognize them until he flicks one on—the tiny, fake candles from a few Halloweens ago.

"How romantic," there's a strangeness to this that you didn't expect; oddly casual, even with this newfound situation. 

"What?" He asks, innocent as can be, like you have a choice in the matter, already putting one flickering candle off to the side. Another, next to your hip, and he's still got four or five of them left to turn on. "Ain't in the mood for some mood lightin'?"

Lying to yourself is fruitless. The soft golden glow is a welcomed addition to this dark little bedroom. Highlights the room just enough for you to catch the way he drizzles the lube into his palm, reaching down to spread it over himself. That big hand almost tricks you into believing his cock is smaller than it really is, the flushed tip nudging at your cunt with every upward glide. 

They say monsters hide in the dark, and you know you caught sight of one between his legs. 

Two fingers press into you. No warning to be found, the thick digits easing in like they've done it a million and one times, crooking upward, dragging against your walls. There's the slightest hint of a stretch, a soft ache that—

You suck in a breath, a soft noise escaping past your lips. 

Rhett's cock twitches against you. "'s that it?" 

Weak, you nod. Don't trust yourself to speak. Not with him gradually beginning to move, shallowly pumping those long digits into you, never pulling out far enough to make you feel empty. But it's so hard to stay quiet when he continuously rubs up into those little nerves, nudging them on every pass over. 

"Rhett..." hips writhing against the bed, not sure if you want to lean into it or squirm away. 

That must be all that he's planning to give you because all of a sudden, he's drawing away. Wet fingers glisten in the candlelight as he reaches for his cock once more, guiding it back between your folds. Not entirely the same as what you had before, but the drag of his cock head against your clit is so, so worth the exchange. 

His warm chest settles against yours once more, lips finding your cheek, scratchy jaw tickling the skin there. Sounds like he murmurs your name as he travels to the corner of your mouth, pressing another kiss there. Finally. Finally, he meets you for a proper kiss, almost immediately broken by the swivel of his hips, reformed just as quickly.

Your hands are on the move. One in his hair, the other on his naked shoulder, feeling the way his muscles flex and ripple beneath your fingertips. Strong from a decade of bull riding and all that time spent on the ranch, chiseled and perfect in every way you can imagine. Fuck, it's like he was built just for you and this. Rutting between your legs like he's in heat, dragging against your needy clit until your hips twitch off the mattress, pressing into him. 

Swallowing down his groan is enough to put you up on cloud nine. 

A pressure appears at your entrance—the soft nudge of his tip. Your antics must have caused him to wander a little too far down. But you're pushing down onto him like it was your intent all along, and by God, he's not trying to stop you. 

Rhett stiffens. "You want me to...?" Muttering against your lips, unable to draw himself away any further. 

"Yeah," it's the easiest thing you've said all night.

It's all the encouragement he needs, mouth meeting yours once more. Slow, that pressure between your legs begins to grow, his blunt tip spreading you wide. There's a part of you already beginning to wonder if you should have asked for more lube, but his incessant lips are so damn distracting. Tangling with yours, drawing you into a captivating dance, spinning your head round and round, drawing your mind away from the burn. 

His head slips into you with a soft 'pop,' such an odd little feeling that has you gasping into his kiss, fingertips digging into his shoulder blades. Now you can really feel him. The delicate drag of his length gradually filling you, centimeter by debilitating centimeter. You'll be waddling come morning. You can already feel it.

There's no way you won't be. Not with how your pussy aches with the overwhelming stretch of him.

"Y' want me to stop?" Rhett's low voice rumbles against your bottom lip; when did the kiss break? 

Thunder rumbles outside, your only reminder of the storm that looms just past the thin walls of your home. Even the memory of running with him in the rain feels like it was forever ago. There were flowers filling your lungs just a few hours prior, but as you draw in a breath, you can't feel a shred of evidence that they were ever there.

"Yeah," nodding, your nose bumping into his, "you're just...a lot." 

God, you shouldn't have said that. 

But it's too late. There's already a wild grin emerging onto his scruffy face, so pleased with your words that his eyes seem to sparkle. As if the sight of you struggling to take his cock wasn't enough of a boost to his ego. 

"'s that it?" Speaking through his smile, still has the audacity to sink even further into you. "Ya never had anything big as me?" 

Your eyes roll so hard that they might get stuck.

All at once, his hips are flush with yours, not an inch of space left, your legs tightening around him as if there's a risk of him pulling back out. But that's not happening. Not with the way he's blindly nuzzling his nose into you, so lost in the feeling of you wrapped around him that he can't hold his eyes open.

"Y' alright?" His eyelashes tickle your cheek as they flutter open.

"Uhuh" is the best that you've got at this given moment. It's so hard to speak when you're so full. Couldn't take another millimeter of him, even if he begged you to. "You can..." pausing for a breath, "you can move."

In perfect synchrony, your attentions flicker down to where your bodies meet. A sight lit by the golden glow of the artificial candles, illuminating the slow withdrawal of Rhett's cock, where you're stretched so wide that you don't think your smaller toys will ever satisfy you again. 

"Shit, look at that," there's no reason why Rhett, of all people, should be so mesmerized by this, but he is, and it makes you fucking dizzy. "'s fuckin' hot."

And then he's sinking back in and—

"Fuck," it's too early for you to be whimpering so high in your throat, but his blunt tip is dragging right against the sensitive nerves hidden within you, and it's so, so much. 

This close, it's hard to miss the way Rhett's breath hitches, "'s that the spot, baby?"

All you can do is nod. Nails biting into his shoulders as he draws back once more, rubbing past that little spot once more. Toys don't normally get this sort of reaction out of you, but there's just something about it being Rhett that's getting to you. Your childhood best friend. The man that your weary heart has yearned for since high school. Eye candy at every rodeo he's ever set foot in. 

His lips find yours, tangling lazily, humming all the while. A part of you wonders if he always demands this many kisses. If he makes a habit of smiling into them. The rest of you knows that he doesn't because otherwise, he'd know that the heavy thrust of his hips would send your teeth clattering together.

"Ow," he's jerking back as if he's not the main culprit behind it. 

His cock head drives right up into those nerves. Sends your back arching up off the bed, pussy spasming around him, and you don't know which of you cry out louder. 

"There, there, there," you're babbling like a fool, but he's already missing it again. Such a minuscule thing that every correction is an overshot. 

Rhett's brows furrow, focusing so damn hard, and yet, "I can't...shit, that ain't it either." 

But you've got an idea.

Without a word, you begin to lean up, foreheads bumping together as Rhett tries to follow along, his big blue eyes so wide that they glisten in the light. Slipping out of you entirely as he falls onto his haunches, looks like a big puppy when he's confused like this.

"On your back," your command is soft. It could easily be bent if he really wanted to, but he's already following through on it, twisting and falling back onto the bed without a fuss. 

Settling into his lap is a feeling you've imagined a million and one times, and yet, somehow, it's unlike anything your mind has ever come up with. Warmth radiating off him like he's a damn heater, broad chest making your hand look impossibly tiny, as you lean on him for balance. He's already one step ahead of you, carefully guiding his cock back to your dripping cunt; all you've got to do is sink down and—

A pair of gasps tear through the room. Louder than the storm raging outside.

"Y' look so fuckin' beautiful on top of me, baby," Rhett sputters, peering up at you as if you've hung the moon and the stars in the sky. 

Already, you're beginning to move. Knees digging into the mattress, palms firm against his chest as you lift yourself up. The curve of his length alone is enough to make your thighs shudder.

"You're not so bad yourself," you're breathless already, hips swiveling, searching for that deceptive little angle. Maybe if you...lean a little further forward...

There it is. 

A tingle ripples up your spine, clamping down around Rhett's cock, and he must feel it because his head rolls to the side, lips parting with a groan that ought to make your head spin. Those big hands settle onto your thighs, gripping like he'll fall off the bed if he doesn't.

"Is that—oh fuck,"  his hips jerk up off the bed, leaking tip kissing those little nerves head on, "is that it?"

You can't answer. Palms shivering against his chest, already fighting to keep yourself upright. An ache blooming in your thighs with every rise and fall, head tilting back, a familiar heat beginning to bloom in your lower belly.

Rhett must be feeling it, too. There's no way he isn't. Head rolling from side to side, back arching off the bed, unable to keep himself still beneath you, a whiny mewl escaping his parted lips. And all it's doing is jostling his length inside of you, sporadically tapping against all those sensitive spots.

A calloused thumb appears on your clit. Not sure when he started reaching down, but it's damn near got you collapsing onto his chest, a tremble setting into your exhausted bones. 

"Fuck, Rhett!" You're squealing, poorly built rhythm already beginning to fall apart. 

Again, his hips snap upward, heavy balls smacking against your ass. "'m sorry, I'm not trying to buck my hips. I just..." he doesn't get to finish that because you're falling forward into his chest, face burying into his shoulder. It's too much. It's too much. 

Big hands settle on your hips. Gripping tight as his knees bend, feet digging into the mattress to pump into you properly. Lewd smacks of skin on skin echoing through the room, artificial candles bouncing with his every motion. 

"Anyone else ever fill your sweet pussy like this?" He rasps in some rumbling, guttural tone you've never heard before. "Hm?"

Your head shakes, but it takes a moment to realize that he can't see what you're doing. Not with you nuzzled up under his jaw. "N-no," whimpering right into his ear. 

Those hands are moving again, gliding up your back, big arms securing themselves around you like a hug, the only damn thing that keeps you from bouncing further up the bed. Your forearms settle on either side of his head, shivering as you try to lift yourself up, but you can only go so far, barely able to meet his eyes.

Lips clash, so loose that it hardly even counts as a kiss. Drinking down Rhett's feeble whine. Makes your head spin so much more than the alcohol ever did. Heat pools between your legs, pussy tightening like a vice around his pistoning cock, thick tip rubbing into those nerves over and over and over. 

You're close. 

"I love you," it slips out of him so quietly that you nearly believe it's a figment of your imagination. "I love you, I love you, I love you." 

One of your hands delves into his hair, noses colliding. Think you might be whispering it back, but you can't hear what's coming out of your mouth. Overridden by the blood rushing to your head and the slap of his skin against yours, and, and, and...

Spots appear in your vision. Body going taut as you cum around him without the slightest warning. Crying out high in your throat, forehead knocking against Rhett's, an invisible flame racing across your skin. Every thrust pushes your head higher into the clouds, could damn near float up to the ceiling if his arms weren't tightening around you, his hips stalling. A melody of whimpers bubbles out of his throat, orgasm washing over him like a tidal wave. 

You think you can feel it. The spasm of his cock and the warmth of his cum painting you white, flooding your pussy so full that you think it's already beginning to pour out of you. His hips jerk up into you, punctuated by a sickening squelch and his own broken moan. 

And yet, somehow, you've got the strength to meet his swollen lips, lazy tongues poking out to twist together like a greeting. Wet and messy as can be, saliva running down your chin, drooling like dogs in the summer sun. Rhett twists beneath you, and you're vaguely aware that the world around you is spinning, falling into the mattress beside him. 

A tickle rises in the back of your throat, forcing a cough out of you. Two purple flowers dance out onto the bed, obnoxiously vibrant and dainty. They've always been small, nothing compared to the roses Rhett's been choking up, but they look even tinier in his sweaty palm.

"Spiderwort," he murmurs after a moment, running a fingertip over their petals. Bleary blues peer flicker up to you, half-lidded and turned upward by his dumb smile.

They've always been his favorite. 

"So there was no girl at the bar?" You ask, hand wandering onto his cheek, curling around it like he's the most delicate thing on this planet. 

His head shakes. "Never." 

There's still a storm lurking outside, rattling the house, lightning and thunder striking the ground with an unmatched fury, but you hardly notice it. Too distracted by the warmth of a cowboy, his legs tangling with yours, uncaring of the mess you've made together. Kissing just for the hell of it, wandering across cheeks and peppering over old scars, musing about the memories attached. 

When you fall asleep, you're not sure, but you wake snuggled into his naked chest, his big arm looped around you like a blanket. Sunshine peeks through the gap in the curtains, the shrill tune of a bird singing her song, and for once, it's dreamy rather than irritating. 

On its own accord, your fingers drift across his sleeping face, warm and maybe the slightest bit flushed. Wandering over the scruff clinging to his jaw, finally at that length where it's grown soft to the touch. Drifting around the minuscule scar above his brow, the only remnant of the night you snuck out together and wrecked the four-wheeler. 

As far as you're aware, Royal never did find out why it started making that funny noise.

...or maybe Rhett was never asleep to begin with because when you look back down, his eyes are open. 

"Keep doin' that," he grumbles, voice deeper than the rumble of last night's thunder, leaning in to press his lips against your forehead. You don't need any further encouragement, trailing your fingertips across his face just for the hell of it.

There are things you should be saying. Discussions to be had about where this puts you and what you are to each other, but the upturn of his lips tells you a million and one words. Seriousness can wait. For now, all you want to think about is this next kiss he's planting on you.

And then another between your eyes, and another on your left cheek, one more on the tip of your nose. Slowly but surely sprawling across your face, peppering you with them so quickly that it feels like the wings of butterflies fluttering against your skin.

"Rhett!" You squeal, pushing at his jaw, but it's no use. He's rolling on top of you, and you're helpless to do anything but squirm and cry out, forced to endure all these kisses. 

As quickly as they start, they stop. 

You're half anticipating them to begin the moment your eyes peel open, but he's not even looking at you. Too focused on something next to his face, just past your wrist.

Or maybe...

"What?" You're not following. 

He leans back, brows furrowed as he looks down at his arm. 

You don't get it. What, was he expecting the tattoos to change overnight? It still looks the damn same to you—

...oh. 

That's not the same marking that has marred your skin from birth. And Rhett's turning his arm to let you see, and it's—

It's the same. Rhett's old bucking bronc, your shoe flying behind its upturned feet. It was never meant to be identical; they were meant to complete each other's picture. 

"Are you serious?" You're sputtering through the smile emerging onto your face, so wide that it shapes your eyes with it. 

And Rhett's not doing much better. Red-cheeked. Grinning from ear to ear. "We just been wrong 'bout it the whole fuckin' time."

This time, when he leans down to kiss you, there isn't a single flower to be found in your lungs. No roses. No spiderwort. Just you and him collapsing into these messy sheets, tangled together as one, matching tattoos at all. 

Separation is only temporary. Breaking apart just long enough to venture into the shower together, uncaring of the tight fit, so long as Rhett's hands are gliding along your body. Tangling together in the kitchen, waiting on the microwave to beep, feet knocking into each other beneath the table like you're five years old, and sharing breakfast at the Abbott house again.

He kisses you in the hallway while mopping up the mud he tracked in. Peppers them along the side of your neck when you stumble out onto the porch to find that a tree has fallen, blocking your driveway completely. Perry says he'll come by with a chainsaw tomorrow afternoon; he could be here within the hour, but you've got the feeling that he's already caught on to what's happened. 

In the middle of summer, you begin to suspect that some familiar flowers are beginning to grow around your home. Vibrant little buds sprout from amidst the dewy grass, nestled against the foundation of your home and roaming out into the lawn, running rampant now that the storm has run out of rain.

Roses don't grow in Wabang. Unless, of course, they're accompanied by spiderwort. 

A few kisses from a cowboy are all they've ever needed. 

[randxmthxughts]

Unrequited - Chapter 4 - Tsu'tey x Omatikaya!Reader

chapter 2 | chapter 3

wc: 4k

contains: one-sided love, angst, birth giving scene

a/n: you see how i'm spoiling you and posting two chapters within the same week? i'd like some appreciation for that 👀 also, i have to state that in no way i am encouraging or implying slutshaming in this chapter. i don't think it is even a thing on pandora. the reason why some dialogues with mo'at can be seen as harsh is bc she is the tsahik and she believes it is wrong to connect physically without spiritual bond

unrequited masterlist | general masterlist

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“I was beginning to think you finally changed your mind about me,” Tsu’tey said playfully, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he saw you.

Your cheeks were flushed from the rushed walk you took to catch him before he left. It was already an hour past the eclipse, and if it weren't for your recent busy evenings, he would have left long ago.

“Now stop trying to pin the things you would do on me,” you rolled your eyes at him, leaning against the entrance.

You were struggling to hide a smile from forming on your lips, relieved that he was still there. Tsu’tey sat on the ground with his back propped against the wall, a small knife in his hand, which he had been using to entertain himself with. The arrows he had sharpened during his waiting were arrayed next to him as a big sign of his boredom.

It wasn’t that Tsu’tey did not have a lot on his mind. The responsibilities of the Olo’eyktan have been taking up his whole days; from the moment the sun rose, he was consumed by the matters that demanded his attention. But when the nights stood still and your bodies were wrapped around each other, he could temporarily forget the weight of his obligations. The warmth of your skin and the softness of your touch have been keeping him distracted, distanced from the things he cared about in the daylight. And the attachment that he started to form to you was like a sudden gust of wind that swept him away, making him long for you more often that he’d like to admit. It scared him.

“You seem drained,” he commented.

“The lessons were harder this week,” you sighed. 

“Ah, I see… I thought you were talented,” his tone was serious, but you could tell that he was only teasing you. Giving you a hard time for making him wait. 

“I am,” you huffed, feeling defensive, “Tsahik thinks that I have a knack for herbals, so she wants me to focus more on the technique… That is where I lack the skill.”

Tsu’tey nodded, listening intently. Recently, the reason why lessons had been draining you was precisely why you and Tsu’tey began spending some time talking about your lives, before pursuing the desires of your bodies. It was strangely comforting to share some of you with Tsu’tey, who had previously known nothing about you. It made him feel cruel sometimes that he was only now getting to know you and discovering your personality, yet he dreaded the feeling of investing in a relationship that wasn’t supposed to last. 

But the ending seemed near when rumors began circulating about you two. It all started out when one of the warriors saw Tsu’tey exiting the training hut early in the morning, and later found your anklet inside. At first, the incident was brushed off as a young trainee's fling, but when Fya’at unintentionally made a comment about your scent during a gathering, the gossip started to spread like a fire. Your attempts to pass it off like a joke were clearly a failure, considering the suspicious gazes following you everywhere, making you feel like a prey in the jungle. 

But the final drop was dramatically worse, when during a communal dinner, a woman named Tse'a'ha suddenly burst into tears. All attention then was turned to her, as she threw a harsh look at Tsu’tey and stomped off. Tsu’tey gulped down and ordered everyone to return to their food, clearly admitting that he had some knowledge of what had happened. The next morning, you found out that Tse’a’ha had brought Tsu’tey gifts in an attempt to court him, but he had turned her down with the words that his heart was already taken. You knew right away that he was referring to Silwanin but the venomous tongues twisted Tsu’tey’s words into gossip, making him out to be a chief who was hiding his mate.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Tsu’tey stood with his arms crossed over his chest, intently surveying the training warriors in front of him. The clattering of weapons echoed through the air as the Olo'eyktan scrutinized their every movement with a critical eye.

“Tsu’tey, may I speak to you in private?” Takuk’s voice distracted him with a note of urgency.

“Sure,” Tsu’tey nodded, turning his gaze towards his warrior, “I’m headed back to the Home Tree, walk with me?”

Takuk hummed in agreement, falling behind the chief. They walked away from the training camp, and once they were out of earshot, Tsu’tey slowed his step, indicating that he was ready to listen. Despite his usual easy going nature, Takuk seemed to be nervous. He cleared his throat, earning a curious look from Tsu’tey.

“What is it?” 

“I wanted to talk to you about Y/N,” Takuk started out slowly, as if testing the waters. 

“What about her?” Tsu’tey tensed up involuntarily, already sensing the direction in which the conversation was headed.

“Well… I was wondering if the rumors about you courting her are true? I do not wish to cross the Olo’eyktan.” 

Takuk’s words seemed to hang in the air, the tension between them palpable. Tsu’tey couldn’t help but feel irritated that the man wasn’t scared of him, approaching him head-on. But there was really no reason to be mad at him, Takuk had the right to check.

“I am not courting her,” Tsu’tey finally answered after a long pause.

“So, if you are not courting her, then, can I?” Takuk's lips curled into a small smile, “Of course, only if there is nothing between you -”

“Y/N is a free woman,” Tsu’tey cut him off, “If you wish to court her, that is up to her.”

“Right,” Takuk nodded in gratitude, “I had a feeling it was only gossip. Thank you.”

Takuk bowed deeply before excusing himself, leaving Tsu’tey lost in his own thoughts. He realized that he had no right to claim you as his own, as he was the one to set the rules from the start. If you showed interest in someone else, he would have to step away with respect and let you live your life free of any complications.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Your eyes burned with tears as you watched Saronyu struggle through her labor, surrounded by a few of you. Her mate held her tightly against his chest as she fought for breath under the stern instructions of Tsahik. You and Neytiri sat on the opposite sides, holding Saronyu's hands as she pushed through the pain. Her swollen belly heaved, with each breath, exhaustion and agony etched on her face. Your own muscles ached in sympathy, imagining the incredible pain she was experiencing.

“You’re doing great, Saronyu,” you wiped her forehead with a damp cloth, “Just a little bit more.”

She nodded her head, her eyes locked onto Tsahik, seated between her legs. Under Mo’at’s commanding voice, she took a deep breath to prepare herself before pushing. You felt her grip tighten around you with a grunt, and then you heard it, when the infant took its first breath with a loud cry. 

Mo'at worked quickly, checking the baby's vitals and cleaning it before placing it into Saronyu's outstretched arms. The room filled with compliments and words of congratulations as the new parents gazed down at their child with giddy smiles. You couldn’t help but smile yourself, the miracle of life never ceasing to amaze you. This was the first birth after the battle with the sky people, and it seemed to symbolize something greater for the clan. Saronyu’s firstborn was a reminder for hope and resilience. Life on Pandora would continue no matter the hardships.

Neytiri was the first to leave the hut, while you stayed behind to help Mo’at with cleaning up. She left the flap open, revealing a small window into what was happening inside. A group of Na’vi lingered outside the hut and cheered in excitement and pride, when Neytiri revealed the newborn’s name. Basking in the joyous atmosphere, Jake pulled his mate into a tight embrace. She smiled at him, as he complimented her assistance. 

Tsu’tey stood a little behind them, his eyes locking on your frame inside the hut. He felt a sense of warmth spread through his chest at the way you cradled the baby so gently. You were cooing at it with a small smile, occasionally lifting your gaze to Saronyu and her mate who were beaming at their newfound bundle of joy. As the Olo'eyktan, Tsu’tey felt obligated to be present in a monumental moment like this. He had seen birthgivings before but this one, due to its timing, felt special. A small smile played at the corner of his lips, which did not escape Neytiri’s curious eye. She tugged at his arm playfully.

“Y/N is good with babies, no?” she asked, capturing his attention.

Tsu’tey only hummed in agreement, knowing that she was probably getting at something, but he was too distracted to think about it . Jake’s eyes flickered between his mate and Tsu’tey with a clear skepticism. He was convinced that Mo’at’s theory was baseless: the only time he ever saw you and Tsu’tey interact was when he yelled at you in the healing hut. But Neytiri had grown up with both of you, she could sense that the dynamic had shifted. She just couldn’t figure out the reason for it. 

“She can make an excellent Tsahik one day,” Neytiri pressed, “My mother wouldn’t choose just anyone to give lessons to.”

Tsu’tey knew it had been true. Mo’at had a strong judge of character, knowing immediately if she liked someone or not: it was rare to convince her otherwise. Tsahik picking someone for individual lessons was the highest praise any healer, besides the tsakarem, could get. You were talented, and Mo’at recognized that. 

But Tsu’tey also felt attacked by her choice. It was clear to him that Mo’at had been growing impatient with him and was threatening to choose a tsakarem on her own. Her strong personality didn’t go well with Tsu’tey’s, so she was pushing him into either accepting her choice of future Tsahik, or finding himself a new mate. Despite this knowledge, Tsu’tey decided against revealing it to you when you first told him about taking lessons. You seemed so happy to be given such an opportunity, and he did not wish to minimize your efforts to the mere wish of Mo’at trying to set you up with the chief.

“Neytiri,” Jake pulled her back into him gently, “Leave him alone.”

“No,” she shook her head, like a child, “I am right about this, you will see.”

Jake sighed with a small smirk, watching Neytiri take Tsu’tey by his wrist and lead him away. Tsu’tey was confused but he trailed after her regardless. When she reached a more private setting, she crouched down and encouraged Tsu’tey to do the same. 

“I know that lately my mother has been pushing you to find a mate,” she gave him a knowing look.

“She is too stubborn,” Tsu’tey let out a defeated chuckle. It was beginning to feel like a big joke that was being played on him, “She won’t hear my refusal.” “What is the reason for your refusal?” Neytiri asked softly.

Tsu’tey took a long pause, carefully considering his answer. If there was anyone he could confide in, it would be Neytiri. After all, she understood the toll that Silwanin’s death had taken on him.

“I can’t force myself again,” he answered with a shake of his head, “Eywa knows… I’ve tried very hard. You know it too - we did our best.”

Tsu’tey gestured between the two of them, earning her understanding nod. Neytiri recalled the time when they were first forced into a bond. Back then, she had tried her hardest to feel something more for Tsu’tey. But she could only see him as a brother, and so did he. His heart never stopped belonging to Silwanin, so all they could do was put on a facade to respect the clan. Much to Neytiri’s liking, that quickly crumbled when Jake appeared in her life.

“Tsu’tey, you will always love Silwanin. No one can take that away from you,” she reached out to point to his chest, “She will always be in your heart. Just like she is in mine,” Neytiri then pointed to her own chest, “But life must go on. Dwelling on the past will not leave space for hope.”

“Hope for what? All I got from hoping was loss and disappointment,” Tsu’tey threw harshly.

“If I have learned anything from loss is that there is always a new beginning,” Neytiri’s gaze softened, as she thought back to Jake. 

“Not all of us are destined for new beginnings.”

“I understand your pain, Tsu'tey, but you cannot keep your heart closed off forever,” Neytiri placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, “I am sure that Eywa has something planned for you, but you refuse to accept it…Silwanin would have wanted you to be happy.”

Tsu’tey covered her hand with his, letting the words sink in. Deep down, he knew there was some truth to what she was saying, but he couldn't bring himself to admit it. It was too risky to get his hopes high up again. 

“Tell me what is bothering you,” she asked gently, receiving nothing but silence in return, “A secret for a secret?”

Tsu’tey couldn’t help but smirk at the phrase; it reminded him of the way they used to negotiate as kids. A secret for a secret. What could Neytiri possibly tell him to make him reveal his attachment to you? He felt like she was bluffing, but Neytiri proceeded without getting his approval.

“I am pregnant,” her voice rang softly in his ears.

His eyes widened, as he gazed down at her stomach. There was no visible bump yet, it was far too soon for her to be showing, but the way she cradled her middle was enough to make his heart race.

“Is it true?” he asked. 

“You are one of the first to know,” Neytiri nodded with a smile, “It is still early, but the baby grows stronger with each passing day. My mother wanted me to be present during Saronyu’s labor to be prepared for my own.”

“Does Jake Sully know?” Tsu’tey asked tentatively.

“I will tell him tonight.”

Tsu’tey felt a surge of joy overwhelm him as he pulled her into his arms for a warm embrace. Despite their occasional disagreements, Neytiri was like a sister to him, the only family he had left. The fact that she confided in him about her pregnancy before Jake made Tsu’tey feel incredibly touched.

“May Eywa bless your child,” Tsu’tey murmured, his hand rubbing her back. 

When they pulled apart, there was a twinkle in her eyes. Tsu’tey couldn't help but smile at how happy she seemed. He watched her lose so much in her life, this was the new beginning she deserved. He wondered if he deserved a chance at happiness too.

“Now it is your turn,” Neytiri said. Tsu’tey took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the conversation ahead.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

“Wrong,” Mo’at announced with a harsh tone, watching intently as you worked on making a paste.

You winced, applying more force to the pestle but it didn’t make much difference. Her eyes pierced through you with judgment, yet you couldn’t figure out what exactly you were doing wrong.

“The force must come from the shoulders, not the whole body,” she spoke up, her voice stern, as if she had just read your mind.

You felt a pang of embarrassment, as you tried again, this time using your shoulders only to apply the necessary pressure. Mo'at remained silent, seeming more satisfied with your correction. She rarely admitted to you doing something right, but when you slipped up, she would make you stay late and work, until you mastered the technique. It seemed like this lesson was going to stretch out into a longer one too.

“I apologize for my interruption,” a voice broke the quiet concentration of the lesson, catching both you and Mo’at by surprise. 

Takuk stood awkwardly in the entrance, before bowing deeply in greeting. His eyes flickered playfully between you and Tsahik, until his gaze settled on Mo’at. She waited patiently for him to continue.

“I did not wish to disturb the lesson,” he said, “I just wanted to know when I can expect it to end?”

“Why do you need to know that?” Mo’at raised an eyebrow, her eyes sharp and questioning.

“I would like to invite Y/N for a stroll after she is done,” he admitted, throwing a quick glance at you.

You felt a blush creeping up your neck, caught off guard by his boldness. Mo’at looked back at you with slight confusion, urging you to answer.

“I am afraid I already have plans to tend to after my lesson, Takuk,” you answered apologetically.

“It is alright, we can go tomorrow. I just have something important to talk to you about.”

“Oh,” was all you could say, “Sure?”

“I will see you tomorrow then. I’m sorry again for the interruption,” Takuk said, bowing before taking his leave.

You could sense Mo’at’s disapproval radiating off of her, and you felt ashamed to have negotiated plans in front of her during the middle of the lesson. She clicked her tongue in irritation, gesturing at the pestle and mortar. You quickly resumed pounding the herbs, feeling her eyes on you.

“That boy wants to court you?”

“Oh, I am not sure,” you mumbled, “Maybe.”

“He must either be brave or stupid for going after a promised woman.”

You looked up at her in surprise, pausing in your movements before coming to a stop.

“I am not a promised woman,” you objected.

“Of course you are,” her voice was stern, “You have mated with the Olo'eyktan.”

“What? I am not -” you shook your head in bewilderment.

“Do you think I am stupid?” she tsked, gesturing at you, “I can smell him on you every time you come here. No amount of washing can cover that. Maybe once, but not this often.”

Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest at how accurately she had pinpointed it. Was there even any point in denying it? Mo’at could see right through you.

“You must warn that boy to stay away. He must not disrespect his Olo'eyktan, you and Tsu’tey are now mates,” she ordered.

“We are not mates, Tsahik,” embarrassed, you lowered your gaze.

“Of course, you are, You have performed a tsaheylu and mated before Eywa. You are bonded for life now,” she explained angrily, as if you were dense. Your shoulders slumped involuntarily.

“There was no blessing from Eywa. No tsaheylu,” you admitted quietly. 

Mo’at stared at you in shock, her eyes widening in disbelief. With a deep sigh, she stood up and stormed out of the hut, leaving you alone in your thoughts. Deep in shame, you remained seated on the ground, your eyes still glued to the same spot. Tsahik must think very little of you now and will most likely forbid you from ever visiting her again. You were suddenly jolted back to reality by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the hut. You quickly scrambled to your feet, when you saw Mo’at enter with Tsu’tey. 

She gestured for him to stand next to you, and he complied, a knowing expression already plastered on his face as he threw you a quick glance. Mo'at looked angrier than you had ever seen her before, her eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made you shrink back in fear.

“What is this that I am hearing?” she demanded loudly, "You have committed a great disrespect to Eywa."

You lowered your ears, feeling the blood rush to your face in embarrassment. Involuntarily, Tsu’tey lowered his ears too. Despite his newfound confidence as the chief, he still felt ashamed in front of Mo’at. He had always considered her to be like a second mother to him. Mo’at spoke again, her voice dripping with disapproval.

“You insulted and ignored the laws of Eywa. You continued to fool around with no bond, no tsaheylu,” she pressed her hand to her forehead, sensing a headache approaching, “How long has this been going on?” 

“Since the last moon,” Tsu’tey answered. Tsahik’s face twisted with a mixture of disappointment and disgust. She had never expected Tsu'tey, a man so proper and dedicated to his duty, to behave like a selfish, reckless child.

“Stupid,” she spat, gesturing between the two of you, “If you want to remain respected clan members, you must fix this… Either you begin to court this girl properly and make a bond with the blessing of Eywa, or you leave her alone to find herself a mate.”

“But Tsahik -” you opened your mouth to protest, but Mo'at hissed at you, cutting you off.

“I do not wish to hear anything else. Do not show your faces to me unless you fix this.”

She dismissed you with a wave of your hand, as you and Tsu’tey rushed to step out of the hut. The darkness outside enveloped you, and you wondered where Mo’at had found Tsu’tey. You cursed him mentally for not being farther away. 

“I’m sorry for telling her, she just…” you trailed off guiltily. 

“I know, it’s not your fault,” Tsu’tey nodded in understanding.

He strode ahead, and you followed behind him in silence, waiting for him to speak. Things were going to change now, and you hoped that the bond that was forming between you and Tsu’tey would help, but his next words quickly shattered it.

“Tsahik is right. We can’t be together,” Tsu'tey said, his voice heavy with resignation, “I am being selfish.”

“What are you saying?” you scrunched up your face.

“From now on, we must stop seeing each other. I promise to respect your space, and there will be no reason to dwell on what has happened between us anymore. I want you to have the freedom to find a mate.”

“No! I don’t want a mate,” you protested,  “I don’t want anyone, I only want you. You know that.”

“It is wrong,” Tsu’tey stepped away from you, “I am grateful for the time we spent together, but Tsahik is right. I have to dedicate myself to my duty and give you a chance to choose a proper mate.”

“This is nonsense,” you huffed, “I thought we had an agreement.”

“Yes,” Tsu’tey agreed, “Which I am following through with right now. I think Takuk and you can make an excellent match.”

“Takuk?” you asked, the hurt evident in your voice.

“He asked for my permission to court you this morning. You should give him a chance.”

You felt your heart shatter into pieces. He had been the one to push you towards someone else, making it clear that he didn't love you. You had clung to the hope that his feelings might change, but now it seemed like he had given up on you completely. Your throat tightened as tears threatened to spill from your eyes.

"You had no right to do that, to give permission on my behalf," you jabbed a finger into his chest, your voice filled with anger, "You are merciless."

“I am sorry, Y/N,” Tsu’tey let out a long sigh, catching your hand in his, “I will not forgive myself if I ruin your chance at happiness.”

His eyes bore into yours, expression softenting. For a fleeting moment it felt like he hated himself for letting you down. He squeezed your hand, bringing it to his chest.

“You have no idea how much I love you, do you?” you asked bitterly, pulling your hand out of his grasp, “I was stupid for thinking you could ever, ever feel the same way. And you warned me from the beginning.”

"It is not true, I -” Tsu’tey interrupted himself, shaking his head, “I care for you deeply but I cannot give you what you want.”

He caught your hand again but you yanked it away from his grip. The pain in your chest was suffocating you.

"Don't touch me," you hissed.

The tears that threatened to fall earlier were now streaming down your face, as you walked away, leaving Tsu’tey standing there alone. By the time you reached home, you couldn’t stop the sobs that wracked your body. You weren't sure if you could ever put your shattered heart back together because Tsu'tey now possessed every single piece of it.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

next chapter

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

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[aziraphales-library]

Hi wonderful librarians! Thanks for providing this service. I'm hoping to hear a few of your favourite non-AU fics in which the author is delightfully creative with how they have Aziraphale and/or Crowley use their supernatural powers. E.g. guess who by attheborder where they settle a bet by temporarily wiping their memories and trying to figure out who's who. Thanks!

Hello! Here are some fics in which miracles are used in fun, silly, and dramatic ways...

Heavenly Dues by IneffableDoll (G)

Months after Armageddon, Heaven still receives receipts detailing Aziraphale’s daily miracle usage. Michael makes the mistake of checking them one idle day. OR Aziraphale reheats a lot of tea and admires his demon, scandalizing an archangel in the process.

Five's the Charm by EA_Lakambini (T)

Aziraphale and Crowley challenge each other to not perform more than five miracles in a day. (They’re both also competitive, and may or may not be above sabotage.)

Five Miracles Aziraphale Performed Accidentally and One that was Entirely Intentional by anywh3r3y0uwant2g0 (T)

Only inexperienced angels will become so overwhelmed with emotions that they accidentally perform a miracle. Doing so is laughable. Aziraphale would never! Except that he has... five times now. Each and every time when he was around the demon Crowley. Why on God's green Earth would a demon make an angel feel so strongly that he would perform accidental miracles? CW: discussion of car accidents, a nightmare with the use of holy water on Crowley by Crowley, description of a panic attack. It'll be very clear when it's coming in the story though, so if you want to skip it you can! Mind the tags :)

Barking Up the Wrong Tree by inflappible (G)

Crowley loses a bet with Adam and gets turned into a dachshund for a week as punishment. Aziraphale has to deal with the consequences.

A Curious Case of Miracles on Marlborough Street by akfedeau (M)

After stopping the apocalypse, Crowley and Aziraphale finally take the next step in their six-thousand-year friendship. But when a spate of miracles sweeps across Soho and Mayfair, they realize their amorous escapades may have an unintended side effect. As they scramble to restore balance and an archangel arrives to investigate, Heaven and Hell’s messengers learn that you can never have too much of a good thing.

One Miraculous December by journeytogallifrey (T)

Candles. Mistletoe. An entire frozen lake. Festive memories from their past together keep appearing out of nowhere. Crowley's sure he's manifesting them accidentally out of sheer romantic desperation. It's bad enough trying to hide his unrequited love as they grow closer post-Apocaloops - what if Aziraphale sees the objects for what they are, a window into his yearning soul? Unfortunately, the only way to banish the objects seems to be talking about each memory... Meanwhile, Aziraphale is just trying to woo his demon boyfriend with big gestures, ready to prove his devotion. And if Crowley acts awkward about the miracles? Surely that's just his difficulty accepting affection. The solution: shower him with as much of it as possible... Eventually these two will communicate, even if it takes 'til the end of the year. For now there will be cuddling, excuses for closeness, sappy words, flashbacks, nostalgia, bickering, and an obscene variety of holiday foods. Oh, and footnotes. That's right. We're doing those too.

And the one you mentioned...

guess who by attheborder (T)

“Ha!” exclaimed A. “We’re married!” He grabbed C.’s hand and held it up, pointing at the gold band around his ring finger. C. stared at the ring, and then at A., a delighted grin appearing on his face. “Oh— that’s brilliant!”

- Mod D

[ravenelyx]

I Love You In Every Timeline - Sebastian Sallow

I Do Not Have Any Thought That Is Not Yours

[Fic masterlist]

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, Harry Potter characters appearance, no name appearance for the reader

Themes: angst, temporarily unrequited love, pining, some form of transference¹, developing relationship, slow burn, explicit (eventually)

Summary: "He turned around, and the world seemed to stop around him. She had followed him: into another timeline, into another universe." In which Sebastian, in his search for a cure in the Dark Arts, finds himself 100 years into the future and meets his most trusted companion's descendant (who looks far too similar to the girl he was once secretly in love with).

A/N: another chapter

AO3 / Wattpad

-

Tracey Nettlebed was boring holes into Sebastian’s skull, and he was sure it wouldn’t be long until they were deep enough for his brain to start leaking out. And, to be honest, he didn’t totally hate the idea.

It would ensure he'd stop him from thinking altogether.

In short, he did forget the prize. He had remembered that the same night, when he’d met Tracey's incensed gaze in the Common Room.

“I asked him, but he didn't have any,” he’d lied through his teeth when she’d approached, and Tracey had only narrowed her eyes at him.

“Fine,” she’d conceded brusquely. “But you better have them by tomorrow.”

She had stormed off towards the girls’ dormitories then, not leaving Sebastian any space for compromise. Not that she'd accept it, he suspected.

In his defence, he’d had other things on his mind. The picture of her had followed him in his dreams; a meandering torture of longing and sadness that only reconciled at his wake, and even more had vexed him the resemblance, like the picture had taken form in front of him. He’d dreamt of you, then, standing from your chair in the Library, and hugging him; he’d felt your heart beating against his, your arms tightly wrapped around his neck, he hadn’t even been sure if it was you, at that point. He’d wanted it to stop, yet never let that person in his arms go. He’d realised, at the same time, that you were shorter than her.

The fact that you weren't at breakfast, and the fact that you had taken the book with her picture with you were, instead, what haunted him now. You weren't in his arms and neither was she. And she was nowhere to be found.

Not that he blamed you for storming off and stealing her right from his nose, she was your family after all, but he would be lying if he hadn't thought about keeping that picture to himself. After all it was, in a twisted way, the only memory he had of his past life, of his past love, aside from you — but you had that birthmark, and that crease, and those eyes, and the red and gold reflecting on your skin tone.

Sebastian had tried to find another copy of that book, another copy of her that wasn't in flesh and bones, as much as the thought made his stomach knot in guilt at the disrespect it showed towards you, but no matter where he searched, there was nothing in any of them about the Goblin Rebellion of the 1890s. The copy you were reading was obviously a one-off.

Sebastian's luck as always, ladies and gentleman.

He had half a mind to ask you where you had got it, but the discovery seemed to affect you more than it did him. And that was saying something.

Sebastian attempted at allotting all his anger and annoyance and sympathy around that thought, like putting marmalade in jars in his brain. You deserved to have it more, as much as it hurt him.

And it did hurt him. A lot.

Keep reading

[shijiujun]

KISEKI Dear to Me: 3.5 CPs + GANGSTER/MOB + SALT DEATH PTSD

Alright guys, temporarily bursting out of hiatus to talk about this show because DAMN if there's anything we know works in BL-land, it's like underworld AU (hello History3: Trapped and KP lmao), and even better if this underworld AU has like DILFs and two familiar actors who WERE FORCED APART in their previous roles and who knows if that'll happen again BUT!

Without further ado...

Title: Kiseki Dear to Me, based on novel Dear to Me by Lin Peiyu Beginning: Aug. 22, 2023, 7PM (GTM+8) Episodes: 13 Total No. of CPs: THREE CONFIRMED + "childhood friends" DILFs

-----------

CP 1: BAD BOY + GOOD STUDENT

Fan Zherui x Bai Zongyi: Fan Zherui, 25 years old, is a gang member who turned to the gangs due to family problems, and one day when he's injured, Bai Zongyi saves him, he falls in love with him and decides to leave the gang, but things go awry when his enemy Zhang Teng (played by Wayne, see CP 3) comes after for revenge. Bai Zongyi is a good student, your cutest boy next door, who is independent and has some PTSD from when he was beaten up in the rain - meets Fan Zherui and for once realises what it means to be loved, to have someone to care for him and more. TWO MEOW MEOWS?! Anyway, Bai Zongyi, according to MDL, will take the rap for some fight for Zherui, and then end up in jail, but then very weirdly the official description says that CP 2's Eddie ends up in jail for Bai Zongyi, I'm a tad confused but WHATEVER we will find out when we watch the damn show.

----

CP 2: ADOPTED SON OF GANG BOSS + CHILDHOOD "YOUNGER BROTHER" PUPPY

Chen Yi x Eddie (Ai Di): They both grew up together with Eddie as the younger 'brother', with Chen Yi being 'adopted' by gang boss Chen Dongyang after his parents, also gang members die to protect the boss. Eddie has been chasing after him for the longest time, and has a sad family background as his parents are druggies and he was only able to grow up well under the protection of Chen Dongyang, and he only listens to Chen Yi. UNREQUITED-REQUITED love, but Eddie sees how Chen Yi feels deeply about Chen Dongyang (I don't know what that means from the description LMAO like??) and decides to leave Chen Yi, and somehow get embroiled in something and ends up in jail for Bai Zongyi. Chen Yi is only just understanding his own feelings for Eddie when Eddie literally goes to jail DOGBLOOD MUCH?! Anyway they will reunite 4 years later.

----

CP 3: MY BAOBEIS?!?!?! MY LOVELIES WHO MADE US GET PTSD OVER SALT?! WILL THESE TWO GANG MEMBERS GET THEIR HAPPILY EVER AFTERS THEY BETTER FUCKING DO

Zhang Teng x A-Jun: BOTH GANG MEMBERS if you couldn't tell from their loud af shirts and thick ass accessories LMAO omg I cannot believe how happy I am to see these two again. A-Jun is Zhang Teng's like follower??? Has been following him since he joined the gang and both fears and reveres him, and Zhang Teng is just angry ball of angst and revenge and vengeance, if you couldn't tell from Wayne's face. I cannot believe they're in a setting! WHERE THEY MIGHT NOT GET GOOD ENDINGS WAS SALT SEPARATION NOT ENOUGH TELL ME YALL

----

CP 3.5: DILFS? "CHILDHOOD FRIENDS" DADS???

Friends yall do not understand how I feel about these two uncles. IF you've ever watched Taiwan family dramas, these two, especially the one on the left Xie Chengjun, is a fucking LEGEND, he's in EVERY SINGLE FAMILY DRAMA all hundreds of episodes of them, he's literally like THE dude to idolise he's been paired up with EVERY SINGLE POPULAR GODDESS ACTRESS in Taiwan - I KID YOU NOT I GREW UP WATCHING HIM on OUR CHANNELS EVERY SINGLE DAY ACROSS 5-7 POPULAR FAM DRAMAS it's been like 20 years ISTG.

Anyway I'm NOT SURE if they are actually going to be a CP at all BUT (1) at press conference this week, these two made kissy faces at each other sooooo...?

Zhou Minglei grew up with Chen Dongyang protecting him as he was a weak and sickly child, so they're childhood friends, and he becomes super unhappy and upset that Chen Dongyang begins to protect and pays attention to Chen Yi ;-; LIKE WHAT IS THIS DESCRIPTION? Okay we could think of this professionally as like two bosses of a gang with their interests at stake BUT THE DESCRIPTION?! And ok Chen Dongyang on the right, he's obviously gang boss, and he relies on Zhou Minglei a lot to fix his problems for him. EXCUSE ME?!

----

The main CPs (1 & 2) are torn apart in a particular fight, and they will reunite 4 years later LET'S SEE HOW THAT GOES THANK YOU.

500% I'll be watching this you bet your damn ass because they better give me happy ending Wayne and Junzhi THIS TIME otherwise they're seriously cursed?!?!?!? No more salt accidents fuck you writer for that ;-; AND IF THE DILF PAIRING COMES TRUE even if just bromance and meaningful side eyes, this bitch will take it.

[yuhzz]

movies, deals, and feelings - k.ch x fem!reader

summary: what started as a deal, (almost) ended with a kiss.

warning: fluff. angst.

word count: 4.8k words

==============

Chaewon sighed before taking her shoes off and heading straight to the living room. Her phone made noise alerting that someone had texted her. She grabbed it from her pocket and deleted a certain contact without even bothering to look at the message that's been sent to her.

"God, all I want is to spend my summer peacefully, why the hell can't anyone understand that?" she grumbled and plopped herself down on the couch.

For some unknown reason, she felt like something was missing--more like someone? Chaewon thought of it deeply until suddenly, a specific person came to her mind.

"Y/n, I should call Y/n" She smiles. "Oh! Chaewon-ssi!" Chaewon's smile grew bigger as she heard the enthusiastic voice of her dear temporary lover - you.

"Can you come over and stay the night here?" Chaewon pouts.

"Our deal hasn't even started and yet you're already inviting me over to your house" you chuckled. "Well, now that you mentioned it, it is a great deal after all" Chaewon shrugged.

"It'll really help me get my chance with Yujin" She mumbled. You, on the other hand, became silent. "Hello? Y/n?"

On your side, you blankly stared at the floor. Of course, right, what were you thinking? All of this is to simply help Chaewon have her chance with Yujin.

Ahn Yujin, a person you don't even know. Well, that is until 2 days ago (Friday).

You first met Chaewon at a bar, all drunk and wasted. With the alcohol taking effect, she ended up (unknowingly and unwillingly) informing you about her oh-so-sad life where she likes this girl who doesn't even like her back.

Simply put it, is an unrequited love that hurts so badly.

So! You took her to a hotel, booked 2 rooms, and talked to her the day after. At first, she was suspicious of you. Don't worry, nothing transpired though.

Well, Chaewon did actually throw things at you but that was not really a big deal.

After quite a while, she had calmed down then and you took that chance to explain everything that had happened.

Chaewon felt guilty after that, of course. One thing eventually led to another and both of you agreed to a deal.

A deal where both of you will date temporarily.

The deal was supposed to end when summer is over (about a month and a half) but Chaewon needs to go back to Japan in 3 weeks.

So you agreed to a date for 2 weeks and a half.

The remaining days of Chaewon's stay, you will spend it cutting the ties you had with each other. Though, something tells me that wouldn't be the case for both of you.

Anyways!

Today is the day before the deal starts but Chaewon just felt like she needed some company.

"Y/n?" she got worried. You snapped out of your thoughts and replied, "​​​Alright alright" Chaewon smiled widely.

"Okay, I'll wait" 

==============

Half an hour has passed and you still were not there. So, she wondered. "What's taking her so long?" She asked herself.

*Ding Dong*

She snapped out of her thoughts as soon as she heard the doorbell ring. Chaewon smiled and ran towards the door. She ran in so much hurry that her hair was all messed up.

"Chaewon? Did something happen?" 

She heard your voice from the other side of the door.

"Nope! Nothing happened!" she replied while trying her best to fix her hair. Suddenly, the rain started pouring.

"Omo- Chaewon-ah! It's raining, can you please let me in now???"  "Ahhh shoot" she sighed and gave up on fixing her hair to let you in.

"Hehe" She welcomed you with a giggle and oh boy did it make your heart skip a beat. Because of that, you held your heart dramatically while saying "Stop- I'm going to die because of your cuteness- Noooooo!!" 

Chaewon laughed.

"Noooooo stop it! God forbids what could happen to me! I'm too young to die you cute kid!" you continued joking.

"Stop that you idiot" She playfully hit you on your shoulder. "Alright alright- Oh! By the way, I got us pizza that's why I took too long to get here" you smiled apologetically.

"It's fine. Tell you what, why don't we eat the pizza you bought while we binge-watch Harry Potter?" Chaewon offered, trying to lighten up the mood a bit.

"Harry Potter? You mean to watch all 8 movies? Together?" you asked.

"Yeah, is there something wrong?" The latter asked, worried that you would rather do something else than watch her favorite movie series with her.

"No, not at all! I've been wanting to actually watch all 8 movies again, it's merely that I didn't have enough time back then" Chaewon sighed in relief and invited you over to the couch.

And just like that, you spent the whole night watching Harry Potter concurrently.

Fast forward to, let's say, numerous hours later (about 5 hours), Chaewon insisted that you stay.

"Why don't you stay here for the night? I mean- It's already 8pm and it's still raining outside. B-Besides! Don't couples u-usually wake up next to each other in the morning-?" Chaewon stopped ranting when she felt your teeny-tiny hands hold her shoulders to calm her down.

"Calm down, I'll stay"

============

The 1st Week

============

"Y/n-ah, wake up, hey" She shook you. No~" you complained. Chaewon sighed.

"Yah, wake up" She shook you again and again until you sat up with a grumble.

"But I still don't want to" you mumbled. "Oh, just get up, you're already awake anyway" you sighed and obliged.

After that, you talked about how you'll spend the day together, no wait.

Never mind, you actually started planning how you should spend the week together.

"How about we spend time today watching TV and ordering food and then, tomorrow we'll roam the city?" You suggested.

"Sure, I'd love that" 

After a little conversation, both of you finished planning about what to do for the rest of the week.

On the 1st day, which is today, you're going to stay home and rest to gather all the energy you need for the activities you're going to do tomorrow and the following days.

Tomorrow, you decided to roam the city whilst telling each other about your personalities, personal interests, etc. Basically, tomorrow is for introduction in order to know each other better.

On Wednesday, Arcade.

Thurday, Arcade.

Friday, Arcade.

Saturday...still Arcade.

And finally, Sunday, theme park.

Yes, you spent 3 hours planning what to do for the rest of the week and ended up with 2 days reserved for "Who" "what," "where," or "when" questions, and then 4 days for arcade, and then lastly, 1 day for theme park.

Your schedule for next week's still yet to be decided.

"Harry Potter?" Chaewon asked you.

"Eh? Again???" you were baffled.

"Why? It's fun to watch after all" She shrugged.

You sighed.

"Nope! Not Harry Potter again" You shook your head in disagreement. "What??? What are we going to watch then?" she asked, her mouth slowly forming into a pout.

"How about something funny? Kevin Hart's movies maybe?" you suggested.

"Kevin Hart? Who is he?" you couldn't react as you couldn't believe the words coming out of Chaewon's mouth.

"Seriously? You don't know Kevin Hart?" 

"Well, I did ask who he was" 

"Kevin Hart's by far one of the best actors out there! He legit rules comedy!" 

"Okay, so we're watching Harry Potter?" Chaewon easily shrugged the topic off, completely shocking you.

You, then, feigned a fake hurt expression.

"No way. We're going to watch Kevin Hart! Each and every single one of his movies!" 

"What the-! How many movies does he have anyway?!" The latter asked.

"About...50?" 

"Wha- How the heck are we supposed to finish all of that???" Chaewon asked you who got your phone out to search for something.

"Oh, don't worry about that, we can continue watching the rest tomorrow" 

"Huh? What about the schedule we planned???" 

"Oh! Right!" You exclaimed.

"See? There's no way we can finish it all-!" 

"Correction about the 50 movies, he actually has 63"

"Thank Go- Wait, what??? But-"

"Oh and don't worry about the schedule, we can do the rest of it next week or next, next week!" You exclaimed - leaving Chaewon on the couch to go fetch your laptop.

"63? How are we going to finish that? It's too impossible!" Chaewon whispered to herself. Even though it may sound too impossible, just seeing you feeling all giddy, excited, and worked up like this makes her happy.

A few minutes later, you came back with your laptop in your hands. After that, you started watching Kevin Hart's movies which started with his first one, Paper Soldiers. Every now and then, both of you would laugh out loud. There were also times when you just couldn't stop smiling until their jaws hurt.

Today sure was a happy day.

Tuesday came fast and just as promised, you continued your marathon.

Yesterday, you finished 5 movies. Today, you aim to do the same.

After your 3rd movie though, both of you agreed to watch something else. Of course, Chaewon requested to watch a Harry Potter movie to which you had no other choice but to agree (it's not like you could refuse her anyway).

The rest of the week passed by just like this.

Just the 2 of you spending your time together - side by side.

============

The Half of 2nd Week

============

"Y/n-nie" Chaewon shook you. "Wake upppppppppp! We only have 20 more of his movies to watch left" she urged you.

"But I thought you didn't like watching his movies" You mumbled sleepily.

Chaewon held your wrist and nudged you - the atmosphere suddenly getting all serious.

"Look, I really like watching Kevin Hart now, and your in-between fun facts about him but, don't you think that we might run out of time? It's the second week and yet we did nothing else but stay here and watch movies" she frowned.

"Even a day's enough for me to make your time worth a while but...if you want to, then we can do something else. Say, how about we go to the arcade today?" You wondered without having a single idea about how your words affected Chaewon.

"Oh, Chaewon-ah, why are you blushing?" You asked.

"N-Nothing. The arcade's a great idea, I'll just take a bath" And just like that, Chaewon stormed off - her cheeks as red as a tomato.

"Cute" you mumbled.

Not too long after, Chaewon finished taking a bath and was already dressed up. She wore a beige-colored oversized tee and tucked it in her ripped jeans.

"Let's go!" She exclaimed happily.

"But I'm not ready yet..." you trailed off.

"Eh?"

"Yeah, I'm not ready yet since you used the bathroom..."

"Oh"

"Don't worry though, I'll be ready in a moment" you reassured her.

"Alright"

Not too long after (again) you came out of the bathroom, you finished taking a bath and were thinking about what to wear.

"Maybe beige too? To match her shirt?" you contemplated. "Or maybe a shirt that'll contrast what she's wearing...?"

"Lemme search" you mumbled.

"Black and warm white? But I don't have any warm white colored shirts and I don't really feel like wearing black today..."

"Y/n-ah, why are you taking so long? Did something happen to you?" The worry in her voice was too evident.

"I'm fine! It's just that I...I don't really know what to wear...?" Chaewon giggled. "Just wear anything Y/n-ah, you look pretty no matter what the outfit is after all," she said.

And your heart fluttered and your heart beat faster and you blushed madly and- "O-Ok" you stuttered.

10 minutes later, you finally finished dressing up. You wore a mustard colored tee and white shorts.

"Seriously? Shorts?" Chaewon chuckled.

"Why? What's wrong with it?" You furrowed your eyebrows.

"Nothing, it's just that I'm afraid you're too pretty in it" she said which made you sigh. "You're unusually cheesy today Ms. Kim. What did you eat to end up saying things like that?" you joked but when your eyes turned to Chaewon, the latter seemed a bit serious.

"Well, today's our first date as a couple after all," Said Chaewon. You were cut short on your breath after what she had said.

Oh, just why the hell are you too sweet to her today, Chaewon? She's about to die from you!

"How about we just go? I cannot take your cheesy lines anymore" you sighed. She ended up laughing.

As planned, or as decided, you went to the park first, you know? To know each other better since last week all you did was laugh while watching movies.

"So! What's your favorite color?" you asked first. "Me? Maybe pink? I don't know...I'm not really sure" Chaewon said, completely unsure.

You continued asking each other questions. Sometimes it's all about nonsense, but there were times when those nonsense questions actually made sense. You did everything to keep the interest in the air going.

But after a while, you eventually decided to call it a day after asking each other too many questions.

You went to the arcade (as scheduled) the day after. You had fun and were happy so when the clock struck 6, you had dinner and went back home.

Wednesday came and instead of spending your time in the arcade again, you went shopping.

In the midst of it though, someone came up to the two of you. A woman who looked like she was about your age too.

She first looked at Chaewon who had her hands intertwined with you. The stranger then moved her gaze to look at Chaewon's hands.

"Y/n-ah, it's done" The woman spoke and looked up to meet your eyes as if she has known you for years.

"Thanks" You mouthed. The latter nodded. You smiled before looking at Chaewon.

"Let's continue our shopping spree," you said and looked at Chaewon who looked back at you. "Okay," She said and left the woman standing in the middle of the grocery store.

"I hope you won't have your heart broken because of this, Y/n" She mumbled as she looked at Chaewon who was looking at you - eyes smiling along with her lips.

============

"So who was she?" Chaewon asked you for the hundredth time.

You just got inside Chaewon's car and were getting ready to leave after putting all the boxes filled, with what you bought, inside the car's trunk.

You sighed and said, "Do you really want to know who she is?" Chaewon nodded eagerly.

"She's my ex" Her shoulders dropped and her eyes lost their energy. "Her name's Yunjin, we broke up last year. The decision was mutual though since we both agreed that it'd be better for the both of us" You said and drove off the parking lot.

The rest of the ride was silent.

After getting back home, Chaewon went straight inside the room and you spent your time putting, all the things you bought, where it's supposed to be.

Chaewon, on the other hand, doesn't know why she feels like this. She feels like she's mad or something. Maybe jealousy?

The rest of the day passed by with both of you ignoring each other.

And truth to be told? In such a short time, you miss her already - all the while, silently hoping that she feels the same.

Thursday! A big day for the 2 of you.

Somehow in some way, both of you managed to act like nothing happened and put everything that happened yesterday behind you. You managed to (with the help of Yunjin) reserve yourselves a theme park. (This is the reason why she approached you yesterday inside the grocery store)

It'll just be the 2 of you alone inside a big place. Today, you'll have all the time in the world to enjoy each other's company.

You first started with the rollercoaster despite the fact that both of you are (obviously) scared of it. From there, you wasted no time enjoying the other rides as well.

The day eventually came to an end (sadly) and before saying goodbye, you decided to ride the Ferris Wheel where you'll share everything that you loved and hated throughout the week and a half that you spent with each other.

Both of you sat in front of each other.

"I'll start," She said. "I gotta be honest right?" She asked and you nodded.

"Oh, ok then..."

"...let's see. I'll start with the things I loved first"

Chaewon started sharing the things she loved, starting with how she really really loved pinching your cheeks whenever you were sleeping up until all those lovely times you spent today.

"And then, the things I hated"

Only one word - name rather - came to her mind.

"Y-Yunjin" Her cheeks turned red as she tried to avoid your teasing look. "Hey! Stop looking at me like that!" She pushed your shoulder lightly.

"Alright alright!" you laughed.

After the laughter had died down, you took the chance to say a short sentence - enough to explain what you liked and disliked.

"I loved you and hated nothing else about everything" 

*Badump* Chaewon's heart went. *Badump* Is what her heart only knows during that moment.

Right after you finished talking, the ride was over. Both of you got off and walked towards the exit. You stood right in front of each other.

Time check: 11:56 pm

'Just in time' you thought.

The remaining 4 minutes are the time that's left for you to say your goodbyes and maybe something else. Inside that 240 seconds, only you can decide whether you'd like to spend the rest of eternity together, or not.

Just 3 words are what you need to forever feel each other's warmth.

But of course.

"Thank you for everything Y/n-ah, goodbye" 

You had no other choice but to watch Chaewon's back fade away from your line of sight.

A bittersweet goodbye it is.

You both knew you needed each other - or maybe it was only you who did.

To others, it may seem like both of you met the wrong person at the wrong time.

But to you and Chaewon, you were the right person at the right time.

So, there it goes.

Another story that meets a sorrowful ending.

============

The Other Half of 2nd Week

============

This is it.

After 3 days, Chaewon's soon going back to Japan.

It's Friday today.

After she woke up, she immediately went straight to the living room to watch. Hopefully, maybe this will help her forget you.

But just as she opened the TV, a Kevin Heart movie showed up. Memories suddenly showed.

Dejavu started hitting her.

Laughter in the living room, tears of joy - you.

Chaewon ended up turning the TV off immediately. With a sigh, she went back inside her room. She was about to lie down again when she remembered your sleeping figure on it.

"Damn it" she cursed.

Gosh, she sees you in every single corner of the house. House...she used to call it home, a place where she's comfortable.

A place that used to keep her warm during the cold.

But why does it make her feel lonely now?

What have you done to her, Y/n?

Well, since this house did nothing else but remind her of you, why not go outside and take a walk? So! She did and took her jacket before going outside.

Chaewon let her feet take her anywhere.

Just anywhere but the places you both visited together. Just not somewhere she'd be reminded of you.

"3 days..." she mumbled while walking on the side of the road. "In 3 days, I'll be leaving" she sighed.

As much as she hated to admit it, she's been thinking of the life she had to return to, how she'd spend her days, how life would feel if she didn't have anyone to binge-watch movies with - a life without you.

"Well, that would suck!" she exclaimed and stretched her arms. "Gosh, where do I go?" Chaewon pondered.

She continued walking, turning right here, turning left there - it was evident that she had no clear destination.

But the moment she stopped, Chaewon found herself standing in front of the place she least expected to go to.

"Y/n's?" she mumbled as she stood still.

Why is she here? Why was she standing outside your house?

"Damn it, you're in too deep, Chaewon." She cursed and shook her head. Deciding to leave again, she gave your door one final look before taking a step away.

However, before she could even take another step, your door suddenly opened. You walked out with the plastic bag of trash in your hands, your hair tied in a messy bun, and you were wearing your pajamas still despite the time being afternoon.

Chaewon couldn't take another step. She stood still - frozen.

Though you looked least presentable in other people's eyes, for her, you were pretty.

And for just a short moment, Chaewon wanted a life filled with laughter, a life where she'd all day (every day) be watching reruns of Harry Potter and Kevin Hart movies.

For just a short moment, Chaewon wanted a life where she has you.

"You know you can't, Chaewon..." She lightly slapped herself.

"You know you can't" she sighed and walked away.

Just then, you look her way, eyes lighting up from excitement. You raised your hands to wave at her. "Ch-!" But when you were about to shout out for her name, your hands slowly dropped, your smile disappearing.

You saw the way she looked. She was frowning and her head was down.

You wanted to be there for her. You wanted to comfort her.

You wanted to run after her - hug her tight.

But something was stopping you, and you didn't know why.

==============

2 days went by fast.

Chaewon's getting ready to leave. She's been packing up since 10 am and has been making sure that she leaves nothing behind. It's currently 12 noon.

Her flight is in two hours.

"Socks, check. Shirts, shorts, pants, jackets, all that yada yada, check. Let's see...Have I forgotten something?" She mumbled and stood up from the floor to roam the house again.

While she's doing that, you (back in your house) were feeling uneasy. "She's leaving tomorrow, what do I do?" you sighed and moved around your bed.

"Goddamn it!" You screamed on your pillow.

With a frustrated sigh, you shot up from your bed and bit the insides of your mouth.

"Maybe I should tell her about what I feel"

Yeah, you should.

"But does it have to be now, though?"

Yes, it has to be.

"Won't she reject me?"

I doubt that.

With one last sigh, you stood up from your bed and started getting ready.

After taking a bath, you wore the fanciest clothing in your wardrobe that you could find and wore it. You sprinted down the stairs and left your house in a hurry.

You ran to the nearest bus stop and got on a bus that drives along the block where Chaewon lives. In just 10 minutes, you've arrived.

Your legs were trembling and heck it became very hard to breathe!

You walked slowly towards her doorstep, breath hitching when you realized you were only moments away from knocking and meeting her face to face again.

"Here goes nothing" you breathed and knocked.

You stepped back after that and readied yourself. You waited.

And you waited...and you waited...and you waited.

But damn it she's taking too long.

"Huh..." You trailed off.

At this point, there are only two things that could possibly be happening. It's either Chaewon's not home, or she's ignoring you.

Or maybe you're just overthinking and she's busy packing up.

"Okay, let's not jump into things, maybe she's just not home" You sighed.

You continued waiting until suddenly, the door busted open revealing Chaewon who was breathing heavily and was carrying 2 suitcases. "Woah, you ok?" you asked.

"Y/n? What're you doing here?" She asked you, immediately composing herself in front of you.

Right, why are you here?

"I..." you came here with a clear purpose.

"I like..." You came here to profess your feelings.

"I'd like to see you off" but why didn't you?

"Oh...I thought it'd be something else but, thanks" she smiled at you, feeling a bit disappointed. "I'll uhh...I'll just get my stuff out here and I'm good to go. Do you want to wait for me inside or...?" She said, trying to look everywhere but your eyes.

"No! No...I'm good out here" you said and shook your hands.

"Alright. Uhm, can you please look after my stuff while I finish things up inside?" She asked you.

"Sure, sure." You shrugged and nodded your head.

"Thanks" she mumbled and fiddled with her fingers before going back inside.

Well, that was awkward.

While waiting outside, Chaewon was panicking on the other side of the door. "Calm yourself down, Chaewon. Calm yourself down" she whispered to herself and started gathering the rest of her stuff.

She spent another 20 minutes inside the house before going back outside again.

"You good to go?" you asked her. She nodded her head.

"I just have to wait for my taxi now."

"When is it arriving?"

"About 5 minutes and a half?"

"Oh."

Silence engulfed the two of you.

"You know, Y/n...I'll remember you," she said out of nowhere.

"Hm? What do you mean?"

"My life was mostly dull. I'd focus on nothing else but work, and I still should be doing so right now if only my boss didn't suggest I take a break for a little while."

You listened to her intently.

"And you...you certainly made my vacation better. So I'll remember you, Y/n. I'll remember you whenever I feel down because you make me smile. You'll always cross my mind whenever I see a Kevin Hart movie. I'll remember you whenever I feel cold because you make me feel warm. I'll always remember you because you touched my heart." She smiled warmly.

"I'll remember my feelings for you because I don't think I could ever find someone else like you in my life"

Your cheeks started getting warmer.

"Wha..."

Did she just confess?

Words were caught up in your throat that not even a simple 'I like you too' could come out of your mouth.

Looks like you're in too deep too, huh?

"I thought Yujin was your crush...?" You mindlessly asked.

She laughed wholeheartedly. "Pabo" Chaewon smiled and just then the taxi arrived. You stood still in your spot, observing Chaewon and the taxi man put her luggage inside the trunk.

Once finished, Chaewon hurried back to you. "'Till next time, Y/n" She mumbled.

Chaewon seemed to want to do something but hesitated at first. Slowly, she leaned in and kissed your cheeks.

"Goodbye," You watched as she got inside the taxi.

"W-Wait! Chaewon!" You ran after her.

Before she closed the taxi’s door, she raised her eyebrows and looked at you. “Yes?” she murmured.

“Will...will I ever see you again?” you questioned her. A subtle smile appears on her face. “Well, it depends. Do you want me to stay?” she uttered and got off the car, facing you with hopeful eyes.

“But I don’t wish for you to postpone your work because of me,” you spoke lowly, your breath hitching when you noticed her eyes drift down to your lips and back to your eyes again.

“I’m sure my boss will allow me to extend my vacation.”

“Still,” she sighed.

“No, it’s too impossible for us to see each other again. There’s no telling when I’ll be able to spend time off work. Besides, we’re from 2 different countries” Chaewon looked away from you.

“Then, let’s have a deal.” you proposed.

She looked back at you, slightly intrigued. “What deal?”

“I’ll find a way. I will come to you. Tour me around Japan. Let’s have fun together. We’ll go shopping, we’ll go to the amusement park, we’ll eat together, wake up next to each other - let us be us forever. I will stay and I will go wherever you will go. I want to be with you.” you held her hands.

“That is if you want to do the same.” you shrugged.

She laughed. “What kind of deal is that? Is that even a deal?” she giggled.

“I also don’t know. Just had to find a way to be dramatic, get what I mean?” you smiled.

“Alright then, I accept your ‘deal’.” Chaewon circled her arms around your neck.

“Can I kiss you? I wanna kiss you” you told her.

“Woah, calm down your horses. Let’s take it slow”

“But-”

“No buts, Y/n. Now get off me ‘cause I have to leave so that I could clean my house back in Japan before you arrive”

“Can’t you stay for a little while?”

“Can’t. My flight’s in 20 minutes, gotta leave.”

“Chae-!”

“Start packing up! I better see you in 3 hours!”

She got in the cab and left - leaving you smiling in your spot.

Looks like you’ll be able to continue your Kevin Hart movie marathon with her.

This time in Japan, of course.

[sitp-recs]

Could you please recommend a fic where Harry falls for Draco first and Draco wasn't pining for all those years?

Sort of like a temporarily unrequited love.

Thank you

Hello! Absolutely, love me a smitten Harry. Here are some recs for you:

Solve Us Like a Mystery by tryslora (T, 11k)

When Harry stops in at the bookstore where Draco works, they find a surprising shared interest in mysteries. Draco doesn't expect to see Harry again, and he definitely doesn't expect to become the subject of unexpected investigation that may endanger the life of his unborn child, and at the same time, may bring him the kind of happiness he never thought he'd have after the war.

Voices From The Fog by noeon (E, 13k)

After years of running away, Harry crosses paths with an all-too familiar face and follows him to Amsterdam.

We Might Be Too Old for a Bildungsroman by calrissian18 (T, 21k)

Harry finds something he’s been looking for since the war’s end. Admittedly, the packaging’s a bit odder than he expected.

I Bet That You Look Good on the Dancefloor by birdsofshore (E, 28k)

Harry felt lit up from inside as soon as he entered the bar. There were blokes dancing together, their bodies close to one another, not keeping a wary distance as Harry was always careful to do when he was near another man. God, he wanted this – wanted it so much he could taste it, a metallic tang of heat and desire. He suspected nothing would ever be the same again – especially when he saw who else was in the room.

Faint Indirections by ignatiustrout (T, 29k)

Draco Malfoy is the last person Harry expects to turn up in Boston, Massachussetts. But now he's here, and he won't stop requesting books from the library where Harry works.

Take the Air by dysonrules (M, 51k)

Someone or something is attacking Muggles and leaving them for dead. Auror Harry Potter is assigned to the case, but with his usual partner unavailable, he is stuck with the most annoying Auror ever to walk the halls of the Ministry.

Modern Love by tackytiger (E, 61k)

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

Azoth by zeitgeistic (E, 88k)

Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione for eighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and it either has to do with Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly, does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneously impress and annoy a portrait? Harry has no idea; he’s too busy trying not to be in love with Malfoy to care.

What We Pretend We Can't See by gyzym (M, 131k)

Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought.

Can't Sit Still by wilteddaisy (E, 193k)

Five years after the war, Harry finds himself drawn to Draco Malfoy by memories that aren't his own.

A Secondary Education by Thunderbird587 (E, 234k)

Fleeing the aftermath of his recent divorce, Draco Malfoy takes up a post as the new Potions Master at Hogwarts. At first he believes his hopes for a fresh start are dashed when he sees that a certain boyhood rival is on staff there as well. But Harry Potter is being weirdly nice to him, leaving Draco no choice but to play along.

Turn by Saras_Girl (E, 306k)

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

[10liver]

Reader/Pro hero!Izuku Midoriya

Long ass one shot about jealousy and anger issues.

TW: None besides a whole lot of overthinking

Izuku has been fawned over more than you'd like, and at some point, it becomes unbearable.

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

"Pro hero Deku! Over here!"

"We love you pro hero Deku!"

"50 bucks for a kiss!"

"Ah, um, now now ladies, let's calm down." Izuku said, raising two hands infront of him in an attempt to reclaim the wild crowd of females.

You stood there off to the side, eyeing Izuku as he struggled against the ladies unrequited adoration for him. But you? You were put off to the side as always, just like you are right now. You found it hard to believe Izuku even knew you were here right now. And that infuriated you.

You and Izuku had been together ever since he started off as a regular pro hero, down in the lower ranks. You supported him through everything, whether it be financial support, emotional support, or physical support. You were always there and you stuck by him, as loyal as a dog. Especially when All Might died. Everytime a man who wasn't someone you knew walked up to you, you quickly shut them down, dismissing whatever they were trying to say before they even got a chance to say it.

But as Izuku started to climb the ranks he had become more and more popular, especially with the women of Musutafu. And soon enough, it became unbearable. At some point they even started throwing their panties and bras at him.

You knew it wasn't entirely his fault but you couldn't help but get mad. You would always shut down other males before they got the chance, but Izuku? He didn't even bother saying he has a girlfriend, all he does is smile at them and laugh their charms off.

You sucked your teeth, continuing to eye Izuku. He had yet to notice your appearance, so you took that as a sign to walk off. And you did.

Only then did he notice you walking off. He also happened to notice how angrily you walked off.

You continued to walk towards your shared penthouse with Izuku, making sure to give a mean scowl to every single person you pass by.

You finally made it to the penthouse building. You took a deep breath to temporarily ease your anger as you walked into the lobby.

You put on your sweetest smile and coated your tone with sugar each time a guard or a resident hero would say Hello to you. You made sure to keep that sweet smile in the elevator, as you were well aware of the cameras within the elevators.

But as soon as you were inside the camera free penthouse, you snapped. You let out a frustrated scream as you pulled out your hair tie, letting your hair fall from your tight ponytail. You clutched onto that same hair tie as you stomped your way towards the guest room, not wanting to be in the same room where you and Izuku sleep on the regular.

"Why can't he just— he—For God's sake!" You cry out, finally allowing your frustrated tears to slip down your flushed cheeks.

You threw yourself onto the plush queen sized bed and clutched onto a loose pillow, squeezing it with all the strength you had. You screamed and cried into that same pillow, leaving visible stains on said pillow.

You hated the way they acted so freely towards Izuku. It felt as if he wasn't even really yours. You wondered how he would feel if the same thing were to happen with you? How would he feel? What would he do? Those thoughts seemed to calm you down for just a moment. You decided to take advantage of your calm moment, slowly getting up from your curled up position and shifting off the bed.

You had attempted to let out an exhausted sigh but all that came out was a broken and cracked squeak. You grumbled with your broken voice and dragged your feet towards the kitchen.

"I really fucking hope Izuku doesn't come home today." You squeak out, not giving a single shit about who hears you.

You drag yourself past the front door and closer towards the large open kitchen. You let out a broken huff as you reach up to the open cabinet and grab one of your favorite designed mugs in hopes that it will cheer you up atleast a little bit.

It eventually did, but by a barely noticeable amount. You slowly turned the faucet and let the water run till it hit the perfect temperature and filled your cup.

You slowly close the faucet with similar pace as how you opened it. After ceasing the running water you cautiously brought the mug up to your mouth and began to chug, chugging as much as you could.

You let out an exasperated sigh and mentally clapping for the return of your voice. That brief sense of proudness immediately ceased to none as you snapped your head to the sound of your penthouse door squeaking open.

Great. You sigh, dragging yourself out of the kitchen, attempting to hide the desperate fact that you don't want to be seen. And by him of all people.

"Hey angel, I'm home!" He calls out to you, looking around briefly before taking off his boots at the door.

Since you're fully out of his field of vision you quickly shuffle into the guests room, hoping he thinks you're not home. He calls out to you a couple more times and you don't respond to any of them.

Once you're finally inside of the guests bedroom you continue to drag yourself forward until you feel your upper, slightly bare thighs hit the cool comforter of the bed.

You let out a somewhat quiet groan before allowing yourself to fall face first onto the messy, unmade guest bed with a cushioned thud.

You began thinking, what if you were just overreacting? Well, yeah, you were but.. The way he just simply chuckled at the thrown panties and bras made you so.. so upset. You know, hero this, hero that, you know. You know. But no matter what, it still fuckin' hurt.

"Sweetheart, are you in here?"

You jolted up and out of your thoughts as you heard the soft masculine voice call out to you, and not from behind a door.

You didn't reply, you didn't even look at him. You just plopped back down into the bed and laid their in silence.

"Sweetheart..?" He called out to you again, somehow getting more gentler as he shuffled closer to the bed that you were moping on.

"Go away." You muffled into the bed with high doubts that he heard you.

You felt a large dip in the bed as the large toned man pressured all of his weight on the poor mattress. "Can you get up for me?"

You groaned into the bed before reluctantly getting up and sitting with your legs crossed in the middle of the bed. He stared at your face for a brief moment before glancing at different parts of your body as he analyzed you.

"Have you been crying?" He asks, shuffling his body closer to you.

You turned away from him, turning your face towards the slightly opened wooden door of the guest room. What a lovely door.

"Honey, can you please look at me?" He slightly raised his voice, still sounding gentle yet slightly louder than before. His patience was thinning.

You stayed silent, analyzing the different waves of the wood embedded into the smooth door. You were practically burning holes into the damn thing.

And that's when his patience snapped. He placed his fingers ever so gently under your chin, just before snapping your head to look at him.

"Y/n, I swear if you don't tell me what the fuck is wrong." He threatened as he sharply stared into your e/c eyes.

You let out a displeased huff, slightly darting your eyes around to avoid his burning gaze. You quickly begin to weigh out the outcomes of the situation if you were to tell him how you truly felt.

"Fine. You really wanna know what's wrong? I hate the fact that you allow those desperate girls cling onto you whenever we go out together. I hate that you don't even bother to push them away or tell them I exist. I don't even think most people know that you're taken. People don't even know who I am to you, at this point i wouldn't be shocked if they thought I was just obsessive stalker fangirl. I'm sick and tired of being pushing to the side and don't even get me started on the fact you don't even NOTICE I'm not there with you. You don't even bother to check."

At this point, you didn't even realize you had raised your voice. You didn't even feel the frustrated tears sliding down your cheeks, glistening your cheeks with soft transparent marks.

Izuku's eyes were practically as wide as saucers as he stared at your puffy eyes. He sat there, frozen.

You clicked your tongue before aggressively swiping the side of your face, ridding one side of any traces of tears. You let out a displeased sigh before pushing yourself off the bed. Before you could continue any further you felt a firm, large hand on your arm, actively keeping you in place.

"I.. I didn't know you felt that way Y/n." Izuku said quietly, staring down at you as he clearly towered over you.

"Let go of me Izuku.." You say, barely above a whisper as you hopelessly try and tug your arm away from his firm grasp.

He doesn't respond, he just stares at the leftover residue of tears on your frustrated flushed cheeks. He can't even begin to explain the emotions he felt the moment you told him your feelings.

You narrow your eyes, accidentally activating your quirk and temporarily paralyzing Izuku. You slightly take advantage of this and slip your arm out of his grasp. You quickly shuffle towards the opened door before blinking and freeing him from your paralyzing glare.

"Y/n." Raising his voice, he called out to you just before you managed to close the door. He couldn't believe the fact you had used your quirk on him.

You quickly sped walked over to your shared coat rack, slipping off your fuzzy coat and slipping in your boots, hoping to take a nice long walk, away from your fiancé.

"Y/n. Don't you dare walk out that door." Said fiancé hissed, making his way over towards the curve where the entrance, and exit door stayed.

You scoffed and narrowed your eyes up at him as he had made his way infront of the door, blocking your only way outside.

"Won't you just let me fucking talk?" He spoke, crossing his broad arms over his chest as he narrowed his eyes down at you in frustration.

He took your silent glare as a go. "Y/n, I honestly didn't know you felt that way. I apologize for not noticing your feelings sooner but this isn't how this situation should've gone. You need to learn how to communicate with me better or else everything is going to turn into a fight." He stopped himself for a quick moment to take a frustrated huff and pinch the bridge of his nose as he leaned against the door.

"Dear All Might, I honestly don't know what to do with you." He muttered under his breath as he moved his fingers up to rub his temples.

"If you're just here to reprimand me and complain about my actions I suggest you stop there and move out of my way." You threatened, feeling slightly ticked off by his muttering.

"Can you let me finish?" He retorted, hovering his hand over his face as he looked down at you.

"I'm sick and tired of this Midoriya, I don't get why you can't just comfort me instead of scolding me." You felt soft droplets fall down your cheeks with frustration and slight anger.

"If you'd just let me finish." He said, yelling out the last part with anger. Something in the way his pupils dilated with anger shook something in you.

The way your body flinched because of him had visibly shattered something within him, and you saw it.

"Y/n.. I—.."

Before he could finish you had already began running back into the guest room with your elbow around your face as you sobbed into it. You quickly slammed the door shut, locking it as soon as it shut. You were so done. This was the last straw.

"Y/n.. Y/n, please.." He called out softly, banging on the door before sliding his fist down the smooth wooden door. He let his forehead thud against the wood as he let out a shakey frustrated sigh.

"She's scared of you."

"Shes going to break up with you."

"You haven't even gotten married yet and you've already sent her running and hiding."

"This is your fault."

"Youre a bad boyfriend and fiancé."

He slammed his fist against the door, making the door vibrate from the pressure. He sobbed softly, trying to push out those overwhelming thoughts that filled his brain with doubt.

You couldn't even bother to move. You slightly shook as you sobbed into the pillow, leaving wet marks of your makeup onto the white pillow case.

The both of you sobbed, voices filling your heads as both of you cried your feelings out. You stayed like that for hours, eventually exhausting yourselves out.

Izuku fell asleep against the door, eyes visibly puffy from his quiet emotional sobs. He was already exhausted from patrolling and the two combined had took a larger toll on him than a class C villain battle would.

You let out a soft shakey broken sigh as you lifted your face away from the suffocatingly hot and ruined pillow. You stared down at the dried makeup stains on the soft white pillow before pushing yourself off the bed.

You took a deep breath, getting yourself mentally prepared to face your fiancé. You slowly opened the door causing it to slightly creak as you felt the door open slightly quicker than you had intended.

He was asleep on the door.

You used the most of your strength to slow the opening of the door just in case he'd fall onto the floor. You quickly walked over to where the door was supposed to be so his head laid comfortably against your legs instead.

"Izuku?" You called out quietly, seeing if he'd wake up from that before you'd be forced to carry him into your shared room.

He was heavy, okay?

You let out a frustrated sigh before gripping onto the top of his broad arms and pulling him up with a loud grunt. The way you were bent over looked like you had several decades worth of back pains. Why's he gotta be so goddamn heavy?

You huffed with each slow step towards your bedroom, thanking the deities and All Might above that your bedroom was somewhat close to the guest's room.

After the painful amount of time you took carrying your tall and large future husband, you finally made it within the bedroom. You sighed with relief when you finally felt him off of your back as you shoved him on the bed.

You wiped a non-existent sweat bead off your completely dry forehead before crawling onto the bed on the opposite side of Izuku. You turned your back to his sloppy sleeping position you put him and stared out the window as you watched the window slightly light up with a light shade of blue.

Suddenly you were pulled against a hard body, radiating warmth against your back as you pressed against it.

"Izuku..?" You whispered with slightly wide eyes.

He just simply groaned in response before pulling you closer and nuzzling his head onto the nape of your neck after moving some of your hair away.

"'M sorry sweetheart." He mumbled, slightly above a whisper as he placed a gentle kiss against your neck.

Your lips automatically perk up into a soft smile, slowly melting into his warm touch as you let out a soft sigh.

"Yell at me again and I'm paralyzing your heart."

[ladykibutsuji]

If you can't, who will?

Obanai Iguro x Reader

Angst: Unrequited love with a twist~

Normal Timeline

I don't own the pictures used!

February 14th

I'm not a big fan of February.

'Day of Romance' they say but for me it's a day of torture.

Watching other people love each other as I stare enviously.

How unfair is that?

“Y/N~ The chocolates are ready”

You snapped out your thoughts as shinobu called out for you, she and Aoi helped you with making Valentine's chocolate since you informed shinobu about wanting to give someone a chocolate for valentine's

You walked towards her and Aoi staring at the chocolates that the 3 of you made together, although shinobu was a very busy person she decided to make time for valentine's.

Shinobu took a piece of chocolate and placed it Infront of your mouth "Say ahh~", You opened your mouth as shinobu gently put the chocolate in your mouth. The chocolate slowly melted in your tongue and you could taste how delicious it was, "This is so good and delicious thank you for helping me Shinobu and Aoi" you hummed.

Aoi gave you a smile while shinobu patted your head "My, my there's no need to thank me..Friends are always there for each other aren't they?" Shinobu paused for a while until something a random question in her thoughts "Now come to think of it you never told us about the person you will give it to I wonder who is it? Mind telling us Y/N?"

The moment you heard shinobu's question you immediately froze on spot while Aoi temporarily stopped baking since she was also curious about the answer you will provide, They stared at you with curiousity and you are just continuously sweating deciding whether you should tell them or not.

The room was too quiet because you are refusing to answer so shinobu jumped to conclusions as she gasped "Don't Tell me it's Tomioka!" You just shook your head denying her assumption as you grabbed a box full of chocolate and excusing yourself to leave "Sorry Shinobu! I'll be back soon I- uh I'm not feeling well"

"If you are not feeling well I could always he-"

"NO THANKS!"

You dashed out the door leaving both shinobu and Aoi stunned, "Wait Ms. Y/N!" Aoi tried to call you but you are already running away and far. To them you are a pretty calm person so they are shocked and surprised to see you acting that way. Shinobu and Aoi just stared at each other laughing the situation off "Y/N is really a mysterious person isn't she? I'm still wondering who's the lucky guy though.."

STOMP STOMP

You kept on running and running until the butterfly mansion is out of view, you are too embarrassed to face them nor even answer the question shinobu asked

After all, they knew about Iguro's love for mitsuri

Some things are better to be kept.

BUMP

You accidentally bumped into someone and was about to fall down to the floor until someone caught your arms on time

"I'm sorry! I wasn't looking! A-" you were about to say something until you suddenly realized who it was

It was no other than the guy who stole your heart

But never being able to return it.

"Iguro!" You quickly got on your feet as you slightly bowed to him apologizing for accidentally running into him, "Keep your head up Y/N, It's fine."

You slightly blushed just by hearing his Voice, who wouldn't? he's hot

You then thought about the box of chocolate resting in your hand and since he was already here you might aswell just give him the chocolate and confess your feelings for him that is bottled up for years.

Though it was clear to you that he likes someone else

But taking the risk is not bad is it?

"It's been a while Iguro..I-" You are so lost in your thoughts that you didn't notice him walking away "eh?" You are a bit confused at first since he was fast then you shook your head and raised your voice loud enough for him to hear you "Wait Iguro!", Iguro continued walking as if you didn't called out for him "I'm busy."

"But it's important!" After hearing the word 'Important' he stopped walking. as much as he doesn't want to waste his time because he have a date with mitsuri He decided to hear you out "Make it quick, I still have to go to Kocho's mansion to retrieve my forgotten item and a schedule to attend."

You then took out a letter from your pockets and placed it on top of the box of chocolate that you are going to give him and slowly walked towards him

"This is for you.." You said shyly as you handed him the box of chocolate with the letter, he stared at you with disgust before taking the chocolate and letter you gave him

"What's this for?" He asked as kaburamaru tried to get closer to the chocolate, you gave kaburamaru a head pat that he seems to have enjoy "For valentine's" you responded.

"Get your filthy hands off kaburamaru." You were a bit taken aback by his words since before he really didn't mind you petting kaburamaru infact he even lets you have kaburamaru on your neck for days "Oh I'm sorry.." After you stopped petting kaburamaru he was upset and hissed at Iguro

"and about the letter... it's about what I feel for you for these past fe-"

"I don't have time to listen to your non-sense."

He dropped the chocolate box as he ripped the letter apart leaving you flabbergasted, "Weakness disgust me in other words YOU disgust me. You are just a kinoe so stop talking to me so casually." Even kaburamaru was shock that he had had wide eyes

But why? I was there for you when you had nothing

"I see... I'm sorry for bothering you."

"You should be, I'm only accepting letters and chocolate from mitsuri so if you don't mind I'll be taking my leave." You gave him a slight nod with a smile and before Iguro was about to leave he gave you his final rejection words "I can't love someone who's as weak as you." He then disappeared while you are still standing at the same spot where the man you love and admired for years rejected you worse is that he even bad mouthed you.

You are holding back tears while a million thoughts raced in your head

Was I ever enough?

But why I was there??

I was the one who helped you escape

FLASHBACK:

"this flower reminds me of you! It's so pretty"

"You think I'm Pretty?" You asked as he nodded happily, he placed the flowers in your hair as you return him a gentle smile, Iguro sticking his arms out of his cage is easier due to the fact of how big the gap is and he was skinny at the time

"give him that food"

You and Iguro could hear distance noises which mean someone is about to come at Iguro's cage so you quickly had to leave before the both of you get caught

"I'm sorry Iguro, I'll be back I promise.."

"Wait before you go!" He held your hand tightly from the behind his cage as he looked at you looking a little shy

"If we ever get out of this hell... Promise me that we will get married someday"

"I promise"

"Hello Y/N, how are you?"

Hearing a familiar voice you snapped out of your own thoughts from the past and stared at the man who is now in front of you

The man Infront of you is Giyuu tomioka, The water hashira himself.

"Oh Tomioka!" You slightly bowed greeting him "Are you going to Shinobu?"

"Yes but since you are also here, I have something for you"

He then pulled out a small bouquet of flowers from the bag he is holding and handed them to you, at first you are shock that he would give you something like that so you had your hand on your mouth

"is this really okay?" You asked before taking the flowers, "Yes, it's for you"

With your delusional brain you thought that he had a crush on you or this was his way of saying "I like you" so you slightly blushed at the thought and was happy that after all these years someone is able to love you

Oh boy how wrong you are

"Tanjiro told me I should give these to the other hashira to make friends"

Oh.

"But I'm a kinoe?" You tilted your head in confusion while holding the flowers he just gave you, Giyuu stared at you for a while before answering "I know but I acknowledge your strength so I'm giving you one." He gently patted your head before walking away not noticing the smile he had on his face

However his words aren't useful

You still thought to yourself that you are nothing but a weak human being

After all if you are really strong you could of have been a hashira yeah? But you are just a kinoe.

A useless one

Would anyone really love such a weak person like you?

Can anyone love someone like you?

Back at your estate, you are just in your garden sulking even your crow is concerned

Earlier, Kyojuro came to visit you to greet you a "happy valentine's" and gave you delicious desserts but you ignored him so he was sad and he left your estate with a broken heart

Poor kyojuro:(

"Y/N! Y/N! Are you dead?"

You have been sulking for hours and not moving a muscle that your crow assumed you died on spot

KNOCK KNOCK

"Y/N! Someone is at the door!"

You Ignored the noises and continued sulking so your crow had no other choice but to get the door itself "If this continued you might as well get eaten by a demon!" The crow hurried to the door

You pulled your knees to your chest as you buried your own face onto it tears started to form.

"I was there, I was the one who accepted him ever since we were kids.." you said to yourself as millions of thoughts continued raging in your head

"if he can't love me..who will?"

"I will"

You flinched at the response you weren't expecting and turned around only to find mitsuri with a bouquet of flowers, chocolate, and a wrapped gift with your crow on her shoulder

"Mitsuri! I didn't expect you to visit all of the sudden" you wiped off the tears in your eyes and fixed your hair that is a bit messy because of the wind "I'm sorry if you have to see me like this"

"she won't stop sulking for hours! I told you she's crazy I'm leaving her to you!" The crow then flied far away from both you and mitsuri

"see you like what? I don't get what you are talking about your face is still shining as bright" she approached you closer and sat Infront of you after she sat Infront of you she tucked your hair behind your ears as her eyes stared deeply into yours "Your beauty is really incomparable"

What's the meaning of this?

Flattered by her words you couldn't find the right words to say "a-aren't you supposed to be on a date with aguro? I mean oguro? No.. Obama!" You are too much of a mess to say Iguro's name right

Mitsuri let out a light hearted laugh upon seeing your reaction that she thinks it's adorable "Well..I didn't really think that it was a date I thought we were only hanging out as friends until he told me confessed about his feelings for me..." She paused for a little smiling at you "But of course I rejected him because I want you!"

This isn't right

"Aren't we both women?" You asked nervously, mitsuri put her finger on your lips as a signal of 'Shush' "So what now if we are both women? It's not a crime to love each other"

"but what about Iguro?" A question after a question though mitsuri doesn't mind answering all of your questions even if it seems like there is no end to your questions "He doesn't matter now does he?"

She said that as if it was a normal thing, "Anyways! I'm excited for you to open this gift of mine! Open it" mitsuri handed you her gift and this made you curious of what's inside so you unwrapped it slowly trying not to damage what's inside.

After unwrapping it you found a tulip hairpin inside of it and it was stunning "This is really pretty mitsuri! Thank you" you gave her a warm smile while hugging her which made mitsuri die in happiness

Mitsuri was delighted that you appreciated her gift so she returned the hug by embracing you more tightly! She almost crushed you to death btw

After pulling away from the hug mitsuri asked you if she could put the hairpin on your hair to which you agreed to, she then gently placed the hairpin on your preferred spot

"do you wanna know why I choosed a tulip hairpin?" She asked while she's still fixing your hair, "why?"

"it's to represent my deep love for you!" She stated with a big smile on her face, to be honest you really don't know what to feel because you didn't expect for a Woman (Especially mitsuri) to take a liking to you but then again you decided to give mitsuri a chance because like she said 'Gender doesn't matter as long as the both of you truly love each other'

"I know you are confused right now Y/N but my love for you is real and I'm not expecting you to reciprocate it I just wanted you to know" her words caught you off guard "I also want you to know that if nobody can settle down with you I will!"

After iguro's harsh words you no longer feel bad about yourself thanks to mitsuri, you are about to say something until she spoke first

"I have a question for you Y/N"

"Yes?"

"Can I court you?"

The choice is yours Reader.

Happy pride month everybody!

• I'm aware that in this fanfiction the events occurred on February but in the real world it's June which is pride month!

• since it's pride month I'll reveal my sexuality to my lovely followers

• I'm actually bisexual though I mostly date women rather than men.

• Thank you so much for the people who reads my fanfictions! No words can express on how thankful I am for those who supports me<3