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#but i think it's sad how unaware he is of the fact that every time he opens his mouth he gets closer and closer to mean nothing to me
missjessefantastico · 8 months
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who's surprised? nobody!
#starting out with the good side: this is not affecting me nearly as much as it used to#in other time of my life i would be bawling my eyes out by now#onto the bad side... isn't it fucked up how numb i am to my dad's comments#like... i knew he would find something to criticize from the very beginning#i didn't know exactly what but i knew he would find something#so today it was as if i already had heard it before#which again is good bc i'm not even distraught over it#but i think it's sad how unaware he is of the fact that every time he opens his mouth he gets closer and closer to mean nothing to me#he thinks i hate him but the truth is that i haven't hated him for years because everyday my mental image of him is less the one of a fathe#and more the one of a white noise machine#which is so sad for him because i'm legitimately an amazing person i'm proud of who i have become and of who i keep becoming#and he's just... that annoying dude i sometimes have to talk to#all because he says he's too old to change his ways i mean how sad is it that he doesn't even believe in himself?#al this to say...#my dad: become an engineer | me: okay | my dad: not like that D:<#he doesn't like the school i picked you guys! what else is new?#i learned web development basics with no teachers i became fluent in english by watching cartoons#i got the highest score out of every applicant even tho i hadnt touched a math problem in years#but according to him i'm going to be a failure because of the school i picked!#just because i'm doing better when dealing with him it doesn't mean i'm not annoyed lol#anyway back to my life...#txtsincorbata
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rizsu · 11 months
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“later,” he said—no, he promised. later he promised to apologize. later he promised it'll be alright. later gojo promised to talk it out yet again meaningless promises are meant to be broken. like a jigsaw puzzle piece to its board, they fit in well. no one cares about promises that were spat out to ease the fuel, is what he thinks. at the end of the day, if it's not important it'll end up passing like a leaf floating through the wind. to bother and not be bothered: the rules by which gojo carries on his life.
he bothers with the quests that are deemed important and alarming to him. if such fails to pass this, they will be discarded—much like the “argument” that took place last night. he doesn't recall anything that happened. other than meeting heads with the couch, there really isn't any details from the prior night that sticks out to him.
much to his disappointment, there's the prickling feeling that he did something wrong and has yet to make ends meet for it. did i fuck up somewhere? he wonders. a pout and furrowed eyebrows welcome themselves as he takes his precious time trying to figure out what or who he wronged.
he's yet to find the answer. not bothering with it any longer, he pops two painkillers dry and makes his way to your shared bedroom, unaware of you who's been in a horrible mood ever since. scratching the back of his head, he walks around confused. in his front view is you, who looks stressed even though you're asleep. the dried trails of tears deepen his confusion. just how hungover was i? he questions, oblivious to the blunt fact that it's him who caused it all.
“hey,” gojo whispers, softly shaking your body to jerk you awake. it doesn't work, so he continues until you're conscious. as soon as he sees movement from you, he stops, placing his hand stationary on your hip. watching you twist and turn, he's caught by surprise when you flick his hand away. are you mad? upset? sick? he has no knowledge of what or why you're like this.
“baby? did i do something? what's wrong?” throwing questions at you, his face contorts into confusion and worry. what's going on with you? why won't you communicate? he has many questions that only fuel your anger. does he really not remember? was it truly just like a fly buzzing around his food? is he really that self-centered? no—you know he's not but was your so called “argument” that useless to him? unbelievable.
you try your best to ignore him, really, but his bothersome behavior will either make him see his deity or see the life of being single once again. your tolerance level lowers each time you hear his voice. at this moment, you truly dislike this man. whoever wants to call you sensitive can kiss your ass. you rightfully have every right to seethe with dislike towards gojo.
“can you STOP?!” emerging from under the covers, you look at gojo. oh, how sweet he looks. so sweet yet so rotten.
taken back, gojo raises his hands in defense. if you don't at least hint to him what happened, he's going to go insane.
“what demon possessed you today?” “fuck you.”
you give no more than two words and a middle finger to him. you're too salty at the truth—the truth of him not remembering anything. not even what happened moments before he fell asleep. you're kind of sad, honestly. you love him a lot and it does hurt.
“do you not recall..?” it's your turn to question him. with the softest voice possible, you look at him, eyes wavering to observe his reaction. you hope he at least lies. the truth hurts and you're definitely not in the mood to accept it.
“... recall what?”
oh, alright. you knew he was drunk, but not that drunk. can't blame him but that's exactly what you're going to do. he just cannot act so innocently. he can't. who does that?! not anyone with a sense shame, that's for sure—but who is gojo satoru to feel such tiny things?
sighing, you turn your back to him, making sure to cover your entire body with the duvet. the longer you acknowledge him, the faster your violent tendecies will take over. although you're disturbed, you still have to speak to him, it's a habit, unfortunately, “do not bother me, gojo.”
offended and shocked being his two most dominant emotions today, he raises an eyebrow, ready to drop another question as if it's a pop-up quiz, “what do you mean by that?”
minutes and hours pass by and gojo's still hosting that offended expression. really, it's the only emotion he's been feeling ever since he graced the house with his presence. today might just be the day he buries himself in search for eternal rest. when it comes to others' problems, he will be there as if he's a superhero, but his? oh, his new name might just be master deflector three thousand. gojo has a complex—it's not a god complex, rather, it's a how-do-i-face-my-emotional-demons complex. he masks everything with a joke and confidence but never permit that to steer you away from who he truly is. not a god, just gojo satoru.
gojo's alone now, sinking into his thoughts as he remembers how you left earlier. another argument occurred and just like last night, he mirrored his actions—though completely unknown to him, you clearly remember it all. the same nonchalant way he waved you off, the way he oozed of attitude as he rolled his eyes, the same way his voice dominated when he finally reaches his limit.
sipping on his glass, he pokes his inner cheek with his tongue, salty at the scene replaying in his mind. unable to contain your violent tendecies, your eyes took over as tears overflowed from the rims. you didn't shout, didn't hit, didn't throw anything—just took a deep breathe in and walked away with a sour smile.
gojo's eyes trailed your figure, watching your figure disappear without care. like always, he believes it'll be alright. he's sure that all you need is space and you'll come back. gojo believes in a simple apology being the bandaid to the injury, which is why his eyes bulged when you came into view with a bag or two.
gojo's body immediately dashed to yours from his position almost leaving a cartoonish dust trail behind him. his hand grips against yours, pulling your body closer to his. clenching his jaw, he questions—no, demands, “where are you going?”
a stuttering breath escapes from you, too exhausted to have anything else to say, you give him an acceptable answer, “away from you, obviously.”
his grip tightens, the same feeling from the moment he woke up swirls arounds. his stomach feels like a bottomless pit, the sick feeling just never ends. annoyed at your constant deflecting, the tone of his voice changes but he never raises the volume.
“fucking stop it and tell me.”
no response. he doesn't get the response he wants, but he does receive you wriggling your arm out from his grip. holding your arm to your chest, it stings as his fingerprints disappear within a blink. gojo hates it. he hates the look of disgust in your eyes. he despises what's happening. he despises that something happened before all this and he can't, for the love of him, remember anything.
uncomfortable silence dominates. you're avoiding every attempt of eye contact and gojo's eyes scan your features. she's uncomfortable, he thinks. his heart may as well shatter into separated atoms. his eyes dull in color, slowly backing away from you as he turns his back to you again. dumping his body on the couch, he rests his head on his palm, waving you off with simple words, “go if you want, leave as you wish. i'm done.”
oh okay, a bitter taste envelops your cells, he's done. loosely holding your bags, you drag your feet to the door, looking back at him for one more, one more chance to confirm if you should leave or not. his slumped figure gives you all the confirmation you need. with that, you leave. taking two steps out, you speak with a low voice, praying that he'll hear it.
“bye-bye, satoru.”
gojo raises two fingers, showing you that he heard you well. waiting for the door to click, he leans his head back on the couch, finally allowing himself to succumb to his feelings. every negative emotion and its synonym engulfs him, feeding off of his body and draining him clean of any optimism. is it over? he doesn't know. he hopes it's not. never did he ever want to let you slip through that door but what could he have done? it was more than evident that you were uncomfortable with him. he just can't be selfish and keep you.
maybe he's malfunctioning but there's very much little beads of tears forming in his eyes. it's been a rather long day so why not let it out? comforting in the feeling of the liquid sliding down the sides of his face, he forces back any vocal sound of his cries. he'll rather sink into silence than to do anything else.
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ashwhowrites · 10 months
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Hi dearie! So I was wondering if you could do an Eddie x femReader with a slight of Chrissy x Eddie. Say they have a party after graduation and maybe they start talking about who has kissed who and who has kissed someone from every clique in school, that sort of thing. And perhaps it turns out that Eddie has only ever kissed his girlfriend from school and everyone is like 'no cheerleaders? They buy from you all the time, no one kissed you?' and he's like 'no, why would they kiss the freak?' so Chrissy, trying to be nice says 'well, this is me apologizing on all the cheerleaders behalf" and she kisses him, just a peck but the reader gets jealous, so she decides to show Eddie whom he belong to. Hardcore smut, pretty please!
Love this
Smut- public handjob- Mommy kink ( very little use )
Never proofread
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Chrissy was having a huge end-of-the-year/graduation party for the senior class. Everyone filled her house, smoke and the smell of liquor traveled all around the air.
Eddie sat outside, a few students around him as they settled by the fire pit. A conversation of cliques throughout the years was falling off of people's tongues. Eddie barely paid attention, waiting for his girlfriend to come back from the bathroom. But his name snapped him at the moment.
"What was that?" He asked, politely asking Chrissy to repeat herself. She giggled at his unawareness and repeated her question.
"Who was the most "clique " person you've kissed?" Her blue eyes are watching intensely. Everyone grew curious and watched him for a reply.
"Oh, no one really. I just kissed Y/N and that's it." He shrugged. He didn't think it was a big deal, he didn't want to kiss anyone other than his girlfriend.
"Wait what? You've had countless deals with cheerleaders and you didn't at least kiss any?" Chrissy asked shocked. She had deals with Eddie, and she knew how charming Eddie was. The fact that no one made a move on him before his relationship with Y/N started blew her mind.
"Come on Chris, why would a cheerleader want to kiss the freak in the middle of the woods?" Eddie pointed out, he had no idea why Chrissy found it so surprising. No one ever looked in Eddie's direction, until Y/N changed that.
"Well, on behalf of all the cheerleaders here's your apology." Eddie was confused about what she was saying until she started leaning closer. Eddie's mind went blank, was she about to-
Then her cherry lips met his. It was a tiny peck, but still a kiss. Eddie's eyes flew open even wider. She pulled away with a sweet smile that dropped once she looked up.
Eddie saw the apologetic gaze on her face and quickly turned around. His girlfriend stood a few feet behind, he assumed she was finally coming back from the bathroom. And of course, at the worst possible time.
Chrissy quickly backed up to allow Eddie to rush to his feet.
Y/N didn't bother saying a word. Just a sad look on her face as she turned around and raced back into the house.
"Shit Eddie, I didn't think." Chrissy quickly tried to apologize, but Eddie was already racing into the house after her.
He saw her making her way to the front yard, his keys in her hand as she got in the van. He knew she wouldn't leave, but he didn't want to leave her alone to think the kiss was something serious.
He got in the passenger seat, silently sitting next to her.
"It wasn't what it looked like. We were talking about kissing certain groups of students, and I admitted I never kissed a cheerleader. Chrissy wanted to make up for it and I wasn't expecting it and she saw you. It really didn't mean anything." Eddie tried to explain.
"Did you want her to kiss you?" She asked
"No"
"Did you like it?" Another question ran off her tongue.
"No."
"Were you upset that a cheerleader never kissed you?"
"No, because I don't care about them. I didn't care about kissing a cheerleader ever. I spent all my deals before you just doing plain deals. With you, I spent all my deals rushing through so I could see you faster. " Eddie explained, reaching to grab her hand. He was relieved when she let him hold her hand. She wasn't pissed off enough to shove him away.
"So Chrissy thinks cheerleaders are so high on the scale that she feels bad that a cheerleader hasn't kissed you. Like I'm basically nothing because I don't have pom poms? She actually feels sorry for you because of that." Y/N snapped. She was barely angry about the actual kiss, now she was pissed that Chrissy felt the need to make it up to Eddie. Like he was missing out on life because he picked Y/N.
"I don't think that's what she meant by it," Eddie said but quickly shut his mouth when Y/N's head snapped towards him.
"Are you defending her after she kissed you? Are you fucking serious!" She snapped, rolling her eyes as she removed herself from the van.
Eddie got out of the van behind her. Racing on the other side to trap her against the door. His body pressed against hers to keep her locked in place.
"Not defending her! You could be right! But I don't care. Trust me, I don't care about kissing a cheerleader. I don't see kissing a cheerleader as a big accomplishment. My big accomplishment is you. I've seen those cheerleaders performing, and you are way more impressive than that. If anything, people should be feeling sorry for themselves that they haven't kissed you."
Y/N hated the way a smile was making its way to her lips. Why did he have to be charming?
"Fucking suck up" she laughed, smacking his chest.
"I love you." He smiled, pecking her lips softly. She hummed and kissed him back. Allowing herself to calm down.
But there was still jealousy burning in her gut, and that was something she knew how to work through.
She pulled away with a smirk, pushing Eddie's body off of her.
"What? I thought we made up!" Eddie pouted, his bottom lip sticking out as he gave her puppy eyes.
"Oh, we did. Now I have to show this party how lucky you are that you didn't waste time with a cheerleader."
Eddie hated how fast he lost his breath. How quick his jeans got tight around his thighs.
"Yeah?" He squeaked out, nervously licking his lips. She had a mind of her own, and he had no idea what she would come up with.
She grabbed his hand and brought him to the front of the van, a smirk on her lips.
"Face the van." She demanded, Eddie followed her direction. Turning his body to face the front of his van.
"Unbutton your jeans." She instructed, Eddie felt his body grow hot. Looking over his shoulder, she stood there crossing her arms.
He nodded, unbuttoning his jeans, getting nervous as he looked back at Chrissy's house. No one was outside, but he didn't know if anyone would notice them outside through the windows.
Eddie waited for the next direction, nervously looking over his shoulder again.
"What are you going to do?" He asked, Y/N enjoyed the way his voice was shaky and cracked throughout the sentence.
"I'm going to jerk you off, baby. Right here in that bitch's front yard. You are going to cum all over your van." She explained. Her voice was confident and strong. And it drove Eddie crazy.
Eddie whimpered at her words, terrified to be seen but yet turned on for the same reason.
He melted into her touch the second her hands wrapped around his body. Her palms were flat against his chest, moving down to slide her hands on his bare stomach. Fingertips traced circles up his chest, goosebumps forming over his skin.
"Please." He whined, his hips bucking forward
Y/N smirked at his desperation. Taking her right hand near her mouth, spitting on her palm. Her left hand moved up to twist his nipple. Loving the way he immediately moaned and fell into her.
She traveled her right hand down to his boxers, taking his cock out. Starting with slow strokes as she pumped his cock in her hand. His cock was red, hot to the touch, and throbbing in her hand.
"My slutty boy likes this, huh?" She teased. She kept her mouth right next to his ear. All her focus was on him, not caring if anyone would come outside or not. Not caring if the neighbors looked outside, and saw two teenagers messing around.
"Yes" he shyly admitted. The control she had over him warmed his stomach. Even in naughty moments like this, he never felt so loved.
She picked up her pace, stroking his cock at a quicker pace. Twisting her hand around his tip when she reached the top. Enjoying the moans and whines coming from his throat.
Praising him in his ear. Encouraging him as he moved his hips into her grip. His head was thrown back as her hand worked on his cock, and her other hand continued the torture on his nipples.
A beautiful mix of pleasure and pain swirled around inside his body. She knew how to work his body to get what she wanted. If she wanted a certain pitch of a whine, she knew exactly how to get it.
His breathing picked up, his hips were fucking into her hand. His stomach was clenching, and his knees were close to giving out.
"Need to cum, please." He warned his hands smacking against the front of the van, slowly bending over as he breathed hard against the hood.
"Look at you. Bent over your van, begging to cum." She mocked, but her words just sent him closer to the edge.
"Mommy please." He pleaded, he tried to grip the hood and hated that there wasn't anything to hold on to.
"cum." She whispered in his ear. Pumping his cock in the direction of his van, forcing him to paint the hood in his cum.
He came with a loud whine, clenching his jaw as she pumped him through his orgasm. He watched as the white ropes of cum landed all over his van, a sight he'd remember forever.
She removed her hands from him, allowing him to catch his breath. She kissed his neck, praising him in his ear.
Once she felt like he was slightly settled, she moved her hands to tuck his cock back in his boxers and fixed his jeans.
"Thank you." He panted, a fucked out smile on his face. His cheeks were red as his body burned.
"Clean it up." She said, her finger pointing to the mess.
"I have a rag, one second." He said, moving to walk around the van but she stopped him.
"Use your tongue."
He looked over at her, eyes wide as he blushed at the idea.
"You want me to lick up my cum?" The question on his tongue made him whimper.
She nodded, crossing her arms as she waited for him to follow her orders.
He moved on his shaky legs, moving closer to the hood as he leaned down. Flattening his tongue as he trailed his tongue all around, collecting the taste of his orgasm on his tongue.
Y/N hoped more than anything that the group of cheerleaders was watching. Their status had nothing on her.
Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergent @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93
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creedslove · 12 days
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HEARTLESS 💔 - FINAL CHAPTER
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Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x f!reader
Summary: A wedding, a new addition to the family and revisiting memories finally bring the Daniels family their well-deserved happy ending ❤️
(This is the last chapter of the HEARTLESS 💔 series)
• YOU CAN READ THE ENTIRE SERIES ON MY MASTERLIST
Warnings: a tad bit of angst (but not really, it's mostly just expressing emotions and revisiting sad memories), mentions of suicidal thoughts, fluff, brief smut (more like mentions of it), tension, talks of becoming a widow, Wyatt and his baby sister being the most adorable kids in the world, happy ending ❤️
A/N: it took me so long to get this done, I guess nearly six months, I don't know, I feel I sort of lost my way with this story, but I had to come back and finish our cowboy adventure, give them their happy ending. I love you all and I really hope you enjoy this chapter, I thank you everyone who has followed this story and showed me support through all these months of writing! It wouldn't have happened if it weren't for you ❤️🫶
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Nothing could have prepared you for the reaction your cowboy had the moment you broke the news to him you were pregnant - or rather he found out about it by spotting the test boxes in the bathroom trash. You had been worried about everything, so many scenarios running through your head, always anticipating the worst and making you fear each single measure he could take. Just to have a grown ass cowboy on his knees before you, his face resting against your womb as he blinked away the tears that insisted on flooding those brown baby cow eyes of his. He just worshiped you, mumbling so many words you couldn't quite tell what they were, but the way he looked up at you, as if you were his whole world, made your heart skip a beat. It was a terrifying change, but you oddly didn't feel scared, not at that moment, not when you had Whiskey at your feet, showing he wasn't going anywhere, he was committed and devoted to you, to his family, a family that was growing, just like that tiny little seed in your womb, that was going to grow into a full baby, a blessing to that undeserving man, something he prayed for every single night, there was nothing Jack Daniels wanted more than to be a good man to his family, to be the husband and the father you and the kids deserved. 
The kids. 
He chuckled to himself at the thought of it, something that seemed just like a distant dream short days ago, was now a reality, the fact Wyatt was about to become a big brother, and the overwhelming love he felt for his son, also multiplying towards his second child. It was also terrifying to him, to love someone he hadn't even met yet, and how that could be taken away from in the blink of an eye like it happened to him before. He shook his head, squinting his eyes unaware of the tears that rolled down his cheeks, chasing those thoughts away. Nothing would happen to his family, you, Wyatt and the little angel inside of you would be just fine, because that was his responsibility and he would fight for it until his last breath. You felt his tears against your bare skin and a gut feeling told you exactly what he was thinking about, you didn't want him suffering for that, things wouldn't be as tragic as they were, Jack Daniels was a heavily traumatized man, who lived in fear of losing his family by not being good enough to protect them. You couldn't let your cowboy suffer in anticipation like that, so you pushed him gently, sitting on the floor to face him in the same eye level and stroked his cheek, the way his eyes were red with tears and he sniffed even if he tried his best to control his emotional reaction, reminded you so much of Wyatt, your son being the tiny little version of him. You placed your lips on Jack's forehead, then you went to his cheek kissing his tears away and finally to his lips, never breaking eye contact, at the same time he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible, needing the reassurance only your touch could provide. You kept your cowboy so close to your heart, taking deep breaths and letting his presence sink in, finally realizing how much you'd missed your cowboy, spending days apart from him. You had been so deep into your own thoughts after finding out about the pregnancy you completely neglected the side that craved your cowboy with you. You wanted to hold him, kiss and make love to him, but at that moment, you could see the vulnerability in his eyes.
It broke your heart; Jack was a strong, fearless man towards anything that did not involve his family. He was able to take down dozens of enemies in a fight, he could face the most furious bull in a ring, he didn't fear death or pain when he was out in the world protecting a nation that didn't even know they were in danger to begin with, but he was not that brave when it came to his sugar and his son, and especially not once they added a baby into the mix. One could call him paranoid, but he was just not willing to take the slightest risk, it had happened once, it wasn't going to happen twice. 
"Sugar, I-” 
His voice cracked, he had tears in his eyes, threatening to spill at any given second, he wanted to promise you, word it out loud how hard he would fight for you, for your relationship as a couple, your upcoming wedding, he wanted to assure you you could splurge as much as you wanted, choose whatever made you happy, he wanted to throw himself at your feet like the dog he was, he wanted to cry and beg your forgiveness even if he had already done that before, more than once, and even if you, out of your superior state of grace, had forgiven him. He wanted to tell you he knew he wasn't worthy of you, but he wasn't strong enough to keep away, he wanted to swear you and the kids would be forever safe, he would do anything you wanted him to: quit Statesman, throw away all his lassos and whips, he would become a goddamn farmer if it were up to you. He wanted to thank you for bringing sense into his life again, for robbing him from those depreciating, suicidal thoughts. He wanted to thank, and beg and promise you, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything at all, all he did was blinking his tears, letting them run down his cheeks. You knew it, you knew it all, he didn't have to say it, you could feel it from his heart to yours. Caressing his cheek gently, you nodded, leaned towards him and kissed his lips once more. 
"I know cowboy, I know it” 
                               •••
The slight noise of crayons sliding through a sheet of paper filled your ears and brought your attention back to reality. You focused your eyes on the bright colorful shades that added a meaning to a confusing drawing Wyatt was finishing. A pillow under his bum so he could be tall enough to use the coffee table as his personal art table, while he glanced at his baby sister, Rosie, who rested in her baby seat and watched attentively her big brother's every move. The eight-month-old cooed and kicked her little legs, wanting Wyatt's attention back at her, their bond being as strong as it was the day she was born, he giggled at her. 
"Calm down, Rosie… I will continue the story in a minute” he said in his smart pants way and turned his head at you, knowing something was up. Wyatt was only six - proudly going 7 in a few months, but he was able to tell whenever you were lying to him. He'd asked if you were alright a couple of times in the last hour, and you'd said yes. But you clearly weren't fine. 
Dropping his crayons, he got up and walked towards you, bright brown eyes staring into yours and a comforting smile. 
“What happened, mommy?” 
“N-nothing happened, honey… why don't you go and keep telling Rosie the story… What story was it?” 
"The story of us before she was born…” he said proudly and you let out a chuckle, of course he would want his little sister to know her origins and tell her everything that happened in the months that followed your wedding proposal up to her birth. You allowed yourself to stop the mental torture and point at Rosie who kept cooing in order to have Wyatt talking to her as she loved. As much as the sight melted your heart, a heavy weight in your chest stopped you from taking another breath without feeling pain. Jack should have been there with you. He should be sitting right next to you, playing with his kids and giving you all sorts of dirty smirks hinting at what would go on in your shared bedroom once the kids were off to dreamland. But he wasn't, and you swallowed hard every time you thought about it. You hadn't lied to Wyatt at all, when you said nothing happened; because nothing indeed had happened, the real problem was that something should have happened. He should have declined Champ’s request for a last mission, and being the stubborn cowboy he was, when he got there, he should've killed his enemies straight away, he should have answered Statesman's official communication channels, and above all, he should have arrived home two days ago. 
You didn't get contact from him and neither did the agency, even if they actually sent Ginger to your ranch so she would keep you company and make sure you weren't lost in bad thoughts, even if she stood in your kitchen making you a cup of tea, always offering you dozens of stories in which Whiskey managed to save the day and showed up at the last minute, it still didn't work, quite the opposite, it made it everything worse. But you had to remain strong for the kids, there was no reason to spread panic, even if you were feeling panic yourself, you couldn't do that to them. 
You hugged your little boy tight, burying your face into his soft curls, and smiled, looking at your precious Rosie, picking her up from her seat and holding her gently. 
"Go ahead, love” you told your son and Wyatt smiled, giggling and tickling her tiny little feet. 
"So… after daddy found out you were a little seed in mommy's tummy…”
And at your son's sweet words towards your daughter, your mind drifted off to the memories he was taking so much pride in telling her. 
                             •••
“Honey, it's okay, I'm fine, our baby is fine” You'd told your cowboy for the third time but he wasn't convinced just yet, it had been a silly little accident and nothing more: you’d been playing tag with Wyatt and Jack outside when a chicken running lose crossed your path and your tripped over it. Thinking in retrospect, it wasn't silly, it was plain stupid actually, but the moment Jack saw you tumbling, he ran towards you as fast as possible, immediately lifting you up and placing his hand on your belly. The pregnancy was now two months along, and your soon-to-be husband was always in a state of alert, just like a guard dog, he wouldn't leave your side unless it was strictly necessary to, and at any slight glimpse of danger - well, his exaggerated conception of danger -, he would be ready to act. 
"Sugar please, you fell down, that's something pregnant women aren't supposed to do, let's just go to town, get you to the clinic, have one of those fancy ultrasounds exams and make sure everything’s fine. Afterwards, Wyatt can have one of those happy meals he loves and you can check up any remaining wedding details you'd like to” 
You both knew there was no detail you hadn't double checked in the month and a half you'd found out about the pregnancy. Your wedding was all set and ready to take place - a week from then, at the Daniels’ ranch. Everything was thoughtfully chosen, organized and done despite how fast things were going. However, the fear in that man's eyes made you nod and agree to his request. You knew you were okay, just as your baby was okay, but he didn't, not when his worst nightmare haunted him every single day, giving him no breaks or concessions; the horror of losing yet another child taking away his logical rational side more often than he'd liked. So you did it for him, for your worried cowboy. For the cowboy who wouldn't keep his hand away from your small baby bump and would pray silently for things to be okay. 
“Alright Jack, let's go” 
You gave in to his request and allowed him to help you climb up the Bronco, along with Wyatt safely tucked in the backseat just a few moments after he ran inside to grab you and himself a jacket. Your heart clenched with an overwhelming wave of love, your family was so perfect it didn't even seem to be real. As you watched the ranch become smaller and smaller in the rear mirror, Wyatt played with some dinosaur toys in the backseat, you noticed the cemetery entrance Whiskey drove by; the same cemetery Gabriella was buried with her unborn baby and that brought another pang towards your chest. You thought of her and her baby, and the joy and expectations she must've had, you thought of your own cowboy, and how hard it must've been for him to receive the news that destroyed his life. Placing your hand on your womb, you stroked it gently. You weren't worried until then, but the cold realization of what happened to your fiance, was enough to spike the doubt. Life was going so well for you, perhaps too well, and you worried at some point the good wave of luck would die out. Thoughts wandered, but a heavy hand rested on your thigh, snapping you out of your thoughts. Jack glanced at you, still keeping his attention on the road, but making sure to look into your eyes. 
"It's going to be fine sugar, our sweet little bean is here, safe and sound” 
You nodded thankfully for his words and tried calming down, knowing you'd be in town soon.
You could list the most emotional moments of your life: your first kiss, your first love, the first time you ever saw that pathetic handsome cowboy, the instant you fell in love with him, your first time with your cowboy, the first time you exchanged love words, finding out you were pregnant with Wyatt, listening to his first heartbeats and you could spend a lifetime listing all of those moments. So you figured the moment you heard your newest baby's heartbeat for the first time, you wouldn't become too emotional, but you were definitely wrong. The moment the loud heartbeat filled the room, your heart raced like crazy, looking around you saw your cowboy's eyes filled with tears, a sweet smile as he leaned in and pecked your lips gently, at the same time Wyatt's happy grin also caught your attention. The way he clapped his small hands so excitedly and giggled. 
“See mommy? Baby sissy is alright!” 
He said happily, as he was sure he would get a sister, and turns out, he was right all along. 
That night, after Wyatt was safely tucked into bed, Jack came over to you, a basket and blankets in hand, a shit eating grin as he cornered you and kissed your cheeks, before going south and getting to your neck. Goosebumps spread all over your skin, you knew exactly what he was thinking of and you couldn't help but chuckle. He was still your handsome, charming silly cowboy and you loved him with every fiber of your being. He didn't even need to say anything, just offering you his hand, knowing you'd take it without questioning and without further ado, you two were quickly running through the green grass of the ranch, escaping to your old getaway spot, the one you'd spend uncountable hours with your cowboy, just enjoying the sunlight or the moonlight, relaxing and hiding away from everything and everyone. The early stages of your relationship, where you didn't know if you and the cowboy would actually become something more than a steamy affair, before even dreaming of getting pregnant with his child and going through everything you did. You would both get into your favorite date place: the barn. 
Just a blanket to make things comfortable, some treats to nibble on and all the love flowing through your veins. 
"It's been so long since we came here” you told Whiskey, as he opened the door and welcomed you after him. He didn't say anything, not before pressing you against the wall and stealing a kiss. And that cowboy was hungry for you. The way his hands gripped your waist before roaming over you, his heavy breathing and a whole new discharge of hormones thanks to your pregnancy, got you so worked up, your hands sinking into the softness of his hair, his stetson lying on the floor at how fast your make out session started. 
"Missed you, sugar.. it was about time we came up to our good ol' barn, ain't it right? Just us… ‘cause mommy and daddy gotta have their fun” Jack's heavy breathing was so enticing to you, the way he hungrily went over to your neck and without you even noticing him, he had set the blanket on the floor, making it a cozy place for the two of you to lie down among stacks hay. Smooth dirty cowboy, must've done that a thousand times. If those barn walls could talk, they'd certainly tell the most explicit erotic tales, ones out of many that were actually starred by you. However, there was no place for jealousy of the past, instead you focused on the bright future you got ahead of you and the known fact you were now the only one going to the barn with your cowboy. No other woman would touch him but you, and that was priceless. 
By the time you were both finished with your round, all that was left was resting against each other's body. His arms firmly wrapped around you, short nails scratching up and down your naked back, at the same time you nuzzled his chest. His warm skin and his heartbeat, those small details reminding you it was real. Your happiness was real. Love overflowing you at all times and nothing could be better at that moment. As you shifted and lay on your back, Jack's hand immediately rested on your baby bump. It was still quite small, but you could both see it taking its shape, it was your child growing healthy and strongly inside of you. The mixture of you and the cowboy, the final proof your love was so abundant it flooded into something more. Whiskey's hand stroked your skin, a distant smile on his face, as so much went through his mind. He couldn't help but experience so many feelings at once: love, fear, excitement, regret, grief. All of that mixed up in the handsome mess he was. He couldn't wait to meet his sweet daughter, because just like Wyatt, he was also certain it was time for a baby girl Daniels to make her debut in the family, yet, he couldn't help feeling the bitter taste of regret, thinking of all the wasted time and opportunity he could've spent around you and baby Wyatt. Thinking of how he could've and should've been there for you and him. Your first pregnancy, how everything was so new and scary, how hard and stressful things were, how much you and your son needed him. He closed his eyes and silently prayed for forgiveness, trying to convince himself better late than never, which was true, but he could've been a better man. His mind also drifted to very old times, when he wasn't much more than a boy recently graduated from high school, a wedding ring shining and a beautiful, young and bright Gabriella expecting their baby boy. She was supposed to have gone to college that year, if she hadn't gotten pregnant, Jack knew she would've made a great lawyer, exactly like she dreamed of; he often blamed himself for robbing her of her bright future, even if he knew he would've managed to work and given her and their son the best life possible. It was a topic he discussed several times in therapy and grief counseling. At first, he was adamant about not wanting to do it, but Champ only gave him two options: either treat his old deep wounds, or leave Statesman behind and start over with no job, no money, no support. And he was being kind, because more than once Jack heard people telling straight up to his face he should be rotting in jail. The truth was that Champ was right, he needed to, he should've treated himself years ago, it made him understand and finally accept that no one was to blame, but the killers who ended Gabriella's and the baby's lives. It made him see, he had loved them with all his heart, but he was still alive and he was entitled to be happy, he shouldn't feel guilty about loving someone else, about wanting to build a life with someone other than Gabriella, and above all, he understood that his sweet Gabriella would want the same for him, because he was sure if he was the one who died that night at a convenience store, he would never wish her a lifetime of sorrow and grief like he led. 
"I think you're miles away from here, Jack…” your voice had snapped him out of his thoughts and brought him back to reality, just as your touch, fingers running through his hair as he chuckled and nodded. 
"Just thinking about life, that's all” 
"You know I love you, right, cowboy?” 
“I do, just as I love you sugar. With my whole heart” 
He pecked your lips and then got to your belly, his mustache tickling your skin as he left a trail of little butterfly kisses on your bump. 
“And I love you too, baby, with all my soft old heart, a broken heart fixed with so much love and patience by your beautiful mama, your handsome big brother and by you, because I'm sure you're daddy's little sheep” 
                      •••
"... So when you still lived in mommy's tummy, daddy called you little sheep, because you were too tiny to be a cowboy and also a girl” Wyatt giggled at his own joke and cooed as Rosie clapped her chubby hands. Your kids’ genuine happiness and innocence filled your heart with love and pride, and the fact your cowboy wasn't anywhere Statesman looked for him, only fueled the worst fears and thoughts you had going on. Raising your two kids on our own wouldn't be impossible, you'd done it before with Wyatt, you'd been strong enough to do it, but that was not the occasion any longer. You wanted your cowboy by your side, Jack and you were meant to be, you were married now and you wanted nothing more than to stay with him for the rest of your life, to watch your kids grow and grow old with him. You loved him with all your heart and that lack of news was driving you insane. Turning to Ginger, she simply shook her head, still no sign of him, and it pierced your heart. You wanted your sweet handsome Jack next to you, so you could both enjoy your family. 
"... And then Rosie, mommy married daddy and it was under the willow tree! Remember we played snowman last Christmas there?! Mommy looked like a princess! Mommy, tell Rosie you looked like a princess!” 
Wyatt tugged at you and caught your attention again, you kissed your daughter's head gently and then stroked your son's beautiful face. He was the sweetest child you'd ever met, he'd been your best friend for so long, you just nodded at his words. 
"And you tell Rosie you looked like a tiny little prince and walked mommy down the aisle!” 
“So Rosie…, Mommy and daddy's wedding was so fun! Let me tell you…”  
                       ��    •••
The arrangements for the wedding weren't as complicated as you thought they'd be, not when you had Whiskey by your side, always willing to make your dream - and his, come true. No matter the decoration, the dress, the flower arrangement or the buffet. Anything was perfect for him, because at the end of the day, you'd be his forever, his wife, the mother of his beautiful children. You'd sign your name as Mrs.Daniels, just like Wyatt and your baby would. And he couldn't wait for that to become true. 
Taking advantage of the fact it was awfully warm for December, you both decided to hold the wedding at the ranch, where you could fit all the guests - nothing too much, just friends, some relatives, fellow agents on Whiskey's part, anyway - and all the other things implied by a wedding: a beautiful altar, a nice dance floor and all the great amount of flowers your cowboy insisted on you gifting you with, roses of course, he loved those as a little boy because his grandma and mama loved them, and it's a commonly well-known fact that above being a Mama's boy, Jack Daniels had been a grandma's boy, which only made you love him even more. He was a roses man, and you knew with all your heart that a little Rosie was growing up in your belly, the perfect mixture of your love and the cowboy's, just like your handsome, precious son Wyatt, was. 
The location chosen at the ranch could only be by the willow trees, such a special place for you and your family, it was bound to become even more special. It would be the place where you and Jack would exchange your vows of always loving each other and your family; it was beautiful. The directions were also perfect, the exact balance between simple and elegant. Nothing to be too much, just some fairy lights carefully placed on the trees, white chairs on the green field and several roses of all colors scattered all over the place. You'd always heard men didn't usually take part in those details, but your Whiskey couldn't be further from that; he loved spending every moment helping you decide what you wanted and giving some of his thoughts too. The cake tasting was also another happy occasion: Jack made sure to take you to the best bakery in town, you, him and Wyatt had the hard task of trying a little bit of every cake available in order to pick the right one for the party. You, trusting your boys’ fine taste, you let them pick the cake: strawberry and cream. Everything seemed ready for the two of you to tie the knot. The dress was also easy to find, you weren't picky, you wanted something pretty and comfortable, that would make your baby bump discreet and allow you to enjoy your special day. Taking Wyatt with you so he would help you choose the best outfit, you simply loved how attentive and sweet he was, all the time he clapped his little hands and giggles 
"You look pretty mommy!” 
That's what you'd heard the most those days. 
Your handsome cowboy on the other hand, had his suit completely figured out: after inviting some of the Kingsman agents, Eggsy sent your fiance a special fine tailored suit, the kind that fit your cowboy so perfectly and it hung tight to all the right places. He looked so good, too good it was almost impossible to be able to hold yourself back and honor the agreement you'd both made to wait until the wedding  to sleep together again. It was quite silly to do that, but you remembered being younger and reading somewhere about how having a dry spell a few days before the wedding could fuel the honeymoon even more. You and Jack decided not to travel for your special getaway, he was still very worried about your health, no matter how many times your doctor assured both you and him things were alright with mama and the baby. There was also the fact you didn't have anyone to leave Wyatt with as well, he was a kind and sweet child to be around, but he wasn't used to being away from you for more than just a couple of days. Your mom was completely out of the picture and you and Jack didn't really feel comfortable in hiring someone to watch your boy on such short notice. A couple of weeks at your ranch, enjoying the upcoming end of the year festivities, your family and taking care of your pregnancy didn't sound that bad at all, you were looking forward to it and each time you saw Whiskey, your heart fluttered, thinking of all the happiness ahead of you. 
Two days before your wedding, Wyatt woke up sneezing and sniffling, you had warned him not to spend too long around the river with his dad, you weren't certain what kind of vegetation was that, but it was enough to strike an allergic reaction in your little boy; and since Jack had been out to go fishing and Wyatt wouldn't leave his side for two seconds, it was understandable he didn't wake up feeling great, which made you give him some antiallergics in order for him to feel better. It'd worked to an extent, if it weren't for the fact the antiallergic your son got was the drowsy kind and it put him down to sleep through the whole afternoon, so without Wyatt's usual presence around you, always playing or asking millions of those thoughtful and creative questions, you took some time for yourself, relaxing and lying on the couch, waiting for Whiskey to be home. Your future husband was as excited for the wedding as you were, he couldn't wait to say ‘I do’ and finally be able to be your husband, and yet, you could still see there were some days in which Jack's mind wandered and he seemed so lost in thought. Or late at night, it wouldn't be rare to get up to grab a glass of water and find him looking out the window, silently and reflexively, just staring into the darkness outside the window. You hadn't asked what was going on, suspecting it had to do with something extremely intimate, and that didn't worry you one bit, your love was strong and your cowboy was devoted to you, perhaps it was something to do with those ugly thoughts he dealt with a while back; although he'd assured you he still went to the his therapist appointments regularly and things were much better in that sense then. Eventually, you felt your eyes getting heavier and heavier, and you ended up dozing off, your body fully relaxed against the comfortable couch and the warmth of the sunshine coming through the big window. 
The distant sound of the Bronco's engine wasn't enough to wake you up by itself, you were so tired, a combination of your pregnancy and all the rush you had been settling things, all you needed was just a couple of hours of extra sleep and you'd be all set. Your sweet cowboy knew that more than you did, so he just tiptoed his way into the kitchen in order not to disturb you. The cowboys sweet tooth was really making him lose focus, so he had to grab a slice of that delicious cake you'd made him; no matter how many times you'd told Jack he looked the same sexy cowboy as always, he was sure he was growing a soft belly, and that was certainly due to your great cooking and mostly baking skills. And yet, he couldn't care less about it. He would trade any abs and fit body in the world for the happiness of your shared domestic bliss. He was so absentmindedly eating his second slice of cake - it was just too good to stop in the first one, he didn't even notice you approaching him, only when you placed your delicate hand on his back he managed to turn around and give you a smile as best as possible, due to the amount of cake he was eating, so you just chuckled and shook your head
“Chew it slowly cowboy” you said sweetly and wiped some crumbles off his cheek and then went to his chest, doing the same with his shirt. His free immediately rested on your belly as he grinned. 
"How's the little cowboy?” 
"He's alright… I'd like to talk about the big cowboy, though” you told him and saw his puzzled face as you chuckled and wrapped your arms around his neck. Jack's body was so broad and strong, it simply made you always feel safe and quite turned on, although you couldn't get distracted by him. His arms wrapped around your body, heavy hands resting on the small of your back as he sighed, he hoped he wasn't in trouble, although he had quite a good guess what you wanted to talk about. He placed a peck on top of your head and looked into your eyes. 
“What is it, sugar?” 
"I want to know what's going on, cowboy… I know you're excited about our wedding, just as I am, but sometimes you just get so lost in thought, you wake up in the middle of night and underneath all that spark of happiness, I still see some melancholy underneath… I don't want to see you sad, Jack” 
He closed his eyes when he felt your hand on his cheek, the slightest caress was already so comforting for that broken cowboy; he was a screw up but he had the best intentions, all he wanted was to make you happy without having to worry about losing the three of you. You, Wyatt and the baby being much more than he ever deserved, he just wished he didn't worry so much about everything all the time. Taking a seat on the chair and pulling you to his lap, he rested his face on your cleavage, sighing as he wondered if he should actually open up and tell you what was constantly on his mind. What if you somehow misinterpreted what he meant?! What if you got angry with him and his over protection? So many things ran through his mind as he remained in silence for a few seconds, until once more that healing caress of yours snapped him out of his newest wave of melancholy, this time tangled into his messy hair, you could see the tension dissolving from his shoulders and how he was ready to talk. 
"I'm so happy with everything that's going on… our wedding, our baby, our cowboy Wyatt growing up stronger than a horse, I spent so long thinking I could never be happy in my life only to be the happiest man in the world. I'm so thankful to you for all of that, sugar. You made me a better man, you made me want to be better for you and our family and now we're welcoming a new baby into our lives, I can't help my excitement to do this with you, sugar, it's my dream coming true” 
The cowboy said honestly, this time he was the one who held your face between his hands, caressing it gently and being so delicate towards you like he'd always been. Still, you knew him, being sure there was a little bit more to it than just the pure excitement. 
"And…?” 
Whiskey licked his lips and gave you a sad smile, seeing nothing would go past you unnoticed, not when it came to him at least. He felt pretty happy and safe because of that, his heart warm at how sweet you were. 
“And my mind keeps taking me back to when I was young… All this wedding preparation going on reminds me of the first time I got married… how young and naive I was, how happy Gabriella got, and how hopeful we were when lil Jack was growing in her belly” he swallowed hard and lowered his eyes “please sugar, don't think I'm comparing you two or that I still love Gabriella in that way, but it makes me sad to think my boy could've become a man, a big strong cowboy, and his mama should be a hell of a successful woman by now. I know I discussed this hundreds if not thousands of times over the years, but their fate was just so unfair, and along with that, the fear of losing you and our beautiful little family the way I lost them starts creeping up in my chest and I just get so paranoid over everything an-”
You interrupted your cowboy with a kiss; touching his lips with yours, feeling the warmth of him irradiating onto you, the way his arms wrapped around you and he deepened the kiss, loving to have a taste of you, especially when his mouth couldn't make the right words, he knew his heart could, and above all, your heart could listen to it. And you understood it, you really did, it wasn't because Jack still thought of his late wife, not in that way, but he just couldn't help wondering what would've happened if things didn't go the tragic way they did. Your cowboy was a romantic and sensitive man, no matter what he tried saying or doing. You broke the kiss with a gentle smile and took his hand “come on, cowboy, let's go for a ride” you told him as you dragged him out of the kitchen, stopping midway just to let Helen know you and Jack would be gone for a while and she should keep an eye on Wyatt just in case. 
The walk to the stables was quick, as your cowboy didn't hesitate in going after you, still slightly puzzled as to why you decided to go out like that, but the moment he saw your smile, he went soft: he would do anything for you. You finally let go of his hand and went to Silver Pony, greeting her and petting her head, warming up his heart. Jack loved how sweet and kind to the animals he kept at the ranch you were, knowing you loved that beautiful horse, just as much as Wyatt loved his beautiful little pony, he frowned softly as he saw you getting the saddle and putting it on your horse. 
"I thought we'd agree you wouldn't ride horses for now, you know, to prevent stuff in case you fall or-” you interrupted your cowboy with another peck on the lips, knowing he wouldn't resist further than that. Smiling you shook your head slightly 
"You know, it's funny you don't want me to ride a horse but you do want me to ride a cowboy every single night” you winked as you saw a slight red shade crossing his cheeks before he cleared his throat “come on, Jack, I'll be safe, I'll be with you, you're the best cowboy in the world, the best I've ever seen, we'll just take a short ride and that's it…” 
And with your puppy eyes, you managed to convince him. Like you always did. 
And you were right after all, the ride was short and calm, nothing different went on, as you two exited the ranch entrance and took the small side road towards the fruit trees, the cowboy just assumed you were going to pick up some to make a dessert or something similar, but the moment you crossed the fruit path and walked a bit further, stopping by the cemetery, was when he finally realized what you'd had in mind. He did not see that coming, a part of him still tried to deflect him from considering that, but when he saw you getting off Silver Pony and picking up some flowers, it was the confirmation he needed. 
“S-sugar, why? Why are we here?” 
He asked as you took his arm and made your way inside of that holy place. 
"I think it's important, maybe this will ease your mind, Jack… I know how hard this subject still is for you, and I also know you haven't visited her in a while. I think it's important for you, and well, for me too, that way we can soothe these feelings that still haunt you, cowboy. Let's go, I do it with my heart open” 
And with your encouraging words, your cowboy Jack Daniels took your hand and walked towards his late wife's grave, knowing it was always a bittersweet feeling, but above all, necessary. He hadn't been there in a while, it was almost as if he'd lost the habit of doing so, not feeling that need of visiting them, not after he started attending therapy and realized he had to let his first family go, not after he realized he needed to fight for the family he had with you and that was the most important thing. Still, around special dates such as their anniversary or worse, the anniversary of their passing, he felt he had to honor them by showing up and leaving a couple of flowers. Jack was also aware that you visited their grave once and it warmed his heart. You took some of your time to acknowledge their existence in a substantial way and not treat them as if they were just his weird obsession. Once he realized you both stood in front of the tombstone, he took a deep breath. No matter if years and decades went by, the sight of their names written there always pierced his heart. He knew his relationship with Gabriella could've taken so many turns if she hadn't died: they could've been together until this day or they could've split up, they could still have feelings for each other or hate each other's guts, so many possibilities, none of them would ever come true, but what shattered his heart for real, was to think of his little boy, think of his little Jack, still so small and fragile inside his mommy's tummy, unlike Gabriella, Jack never got to hold him, never got to look into his eyes or caress his hair. Technically, it should've been easier for him to get over the loss of someone he had never met, but it wasn't, if anything, it was even worse, because he could never stop himself from wondering what would've happened. Would his son be good at school or get bad grades? Would be a mama's boy like Whiskey himself was as a kid or would he be rebellious? If he'd followed his dad's step and found his sweetheart earlier in life, there was a fat chance Whiskey would be a grandpa by then. 
But those ifs and might-have-beens were just spiculation. There was no way to know it, and not to descend into madness once more living off daydreams and made up scenarios, was that he seeked help. He was better now, better than he'd ever been, but at emotional times like those, it was quite difficult not to be caught in the moment, so he felt startled when you placed your hand on his shoulder. 
"Do you want me to go and give you some time?” You suggested as you placed the flowers on Gabriella's and the baby's graves, you had a gut feeling that moment was important for your cowboy, but now that you were actually there, you felt slightly dislocated, not knowing exactly what to do or what to say, it felt so intimate to be there, to see Jack's eyes fill up with tears, but instead of asking you for a moment, he tightened his grip around your hand and kept you in place. The two of you closed your eyes and said a silent prayer to his first family. You thanked Gabriella for taking care of your Jack and promised her you would make him happy, not letting him fall into his old depressive habits again; you also wished her and her baby's soul peace and happiness in heaven. Jack, on the other hand, prayed for them and for his new family, he told them he would always keep them both in his heart but it was time to let them rest, they'd never be forgotten or unloved, but the cowboy had another family to love and protect, he asked them for their blessing and he burst out crying when he spotted a blue butterfly on Gabriella's grave. She used to love butterflies and blue was her favorite color. It could've been a sign or not, he wasn't really sure, but the fact was that a weight seemed to be lifted off his chest at the same time he pulled you for a hug and thanked you for going there with him. 
Truth was: if roles were reversed and Jack had died that night instead of Gabriella, he would've wanted her to move on and find peace and love with someone who could truly make her happy, so he finally realized and convinced himself there was no reason for him to do that, his late wife would've wanted the same. 
                             •••
As Ginger got off the phone and paced the room, you felt your throat tightening with anxiety and worry; your chest was so heavy and the tears threatened to splurge from your eyes at any moment, there was still no sign of your cowboy and the way Ginger seemed tense as she whispered information with whoever was at the agency, only brought you even more fear of having lost your husband. You eyed the kids, who behaved perfectly and it pained you not being able to appreciate that, you wish you could sit down with them, talk and play, smile and hold them, but at that moment you were so unavailable, all you needed was to have some news from your cowboy, that was all you wished for; you wish you could hold him tight, you wish you could feel his presence, his warm, his scent all over you again. You craved your cowboy, your husband, and you couldn't even begin to consider the possibility of not having him anymore, at the same time those depressive thoughts were the only ones that crossed your mind. Wyatt complained about being hungry and as much as you should have gotten up and started making him dinner, you simply couldn't move yourself from your seat. Everything hurt and the way Ginger hung up and simply shook her head, signaling there were still no words about your cowboy, just shattered your heart. You discreetly dried a single tear and nodded at her, as you buried your hand into your son's curly hair - exactly like his dad's when he went a few extra weeks without a pretty decent trim. Even at your gentle caress, Wyatt still whined about being hungry, but seeing you were under no conditions of making them dinner, Ginger offered herself to make him some mac&cheese while Helen immediately stepped up to prepare Rosie's bottle. You thanked them and enjoyed a moment of silence as you were left in the living room by yourself. You shook your head thinking of things you couldn't actually change, but if you had that power you would've insisted him to stay, not to take that last mission, the future for the two of you along with the kids was just so bright, you had so many possibilities, he didn't need the money, he should've just stayed home with you. It should be a quiet evening, having a family dinner together, feeding and bathing the kids and then snuggling in bed, feeling those quick strong hands of his, roaming all over your body while those devilish lips whispered the most sinful things in your ear. 
If only. 
You sighed and got up, walking around the living room, stretching your legs and trying to control that huge sadness that seemed to have taken over you like a dark thick shadow that wouldn't go away. As you went to the window and watched it how the overcast sky had turned into a dark night, cold night, you saw the trees moving softly with the wind, which blew coldly through the leaves, you thought of how thoughtful Jack had become those early days before the wedding, how he would just stare outside and allow his mind to drift away, you knew now he had thought of his late wife and how things could've been different for her, you didn't want to think of that, because your troubled mind would wonder if you had really lost your husband already, if your worst nightmare had become true, if he would be reunited with Gabriella at that moment. So many ifs, as much as you fought that thought it didn't seem so distant which made you gasp and finally broke into tears. It was torture. Your heart was broken. 
When you looked out the window once more, your eyes were still blurred with tears, as you tried controlling yourself, knowing it wasn't the time for your kids to see your outburst, so at first, you didn't actually see that curious figure moving in the darkness, it wouldn't even make sense to you, no one could be possibly wandering around, the glimpse of a mysterious figured might've been confused with a hallucination, but not the sound of a horse's hooves approaching the house. That was very real, you realized, the moment you raised your head and frowned trying to see exactly who it was. It wasn't possible, was it? The thing you'd been praying for the most for the past couple of days, had you fallen asleep? Were you dreaming? You wouldn't be able to tell, not with that anxiety bombing you completely making you feel as if your heart was about to beat right out of your chest. Not holding back anymore, you simply ran to the front door, opening it and rushing towards the knight in shining armor coming back home to you. 
"Jack!!!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, your face filled with pure emotion as your depressing, pained tears were quickly replaced by happy ones, the relief you felt was enough to spread through your body and make it weak, having the sensation you could reach the ground at any moment, but there was no problem, your cowboy was finally back home.
Noticing you, your despair and your eagerness to see him, Jack immediately got off the couch and finished the path towards you by running. Welcoming you into his eyes, you jumped on him, crying and gripping his body against yours as if your life depended on it. You cried as you felt his hands running up and down your back, the way he whispered sweet little soothing words, reminding you he was finally safely home. You couldn't believe it, one moment you felt terrified you'd have to move onto a sad, depressing life without your cowboy, and then next, he was right there, for you. You also knew he was tired, hungrily, bruised and in need of a shower and certainly a lot of Ginger’s painkillers, but you allowed yourself to be a little bit more selfish and keep him to yourself, holding your husband and taking every bit of him.
"It's okay sugar, I'm home… it was the last one, I promise you, from now on, I'm retired Agents Whiskey, no more leaving my family behind to risk my life for others” he promised you with his whole heart, not being able to take your sadness at the realization of how much you'd suffered with him gone. He couldn't do that to you nor your family, he had priorities in life, and they would always be you, Wyatt and Rosie. 
The way Jack kept you in his embrace, face buried into your neck, your sweet scent reminding him of home and showing him that just like you, he wasn't dreaming, he was indeed back home from a mission he didn't die for a true miracle, his heart calmed down. You could've stayed in that embrace forever, it was all your heart begged and ached for, nothing more or nothing less, and the only thing that was able to break that hug was when Wyatt's voice shouted a happy “daddy!!!” at the top of his little lungs, followed by Rosie's cooes and loud baby noises, the cowboy's eyes filled with tears at that scene. It wasn't just his sugar, it was also his kids claiming for him, his family who waited hopefully and patiently for him to come home to. He opened his arms to them, Wyatt running as fast as his favorite horse and Rosie being brought in by Helen, but it didn't take very long until she was in her daddy's arms, cooing and gripping his cheeks like she always did while he kissed her sweet face. There was no reason to cry or be sad about stuff, the Daniels were reunited again. 
                            •••
The next couple of hours went by in a blur, you felt anesthetized at everything that went on, and while Jack had to sit down with Ginger - and Champ who arrived about an hour later and got them all locked into your cowboy's office, Helen insisted you to take a bath, followed by a calming herb tea, while she kept an eye on the kids for you. 
You never really knew what went on during the mission, it was top secret after all, the only thing you were informed about was that the mission was dangerous, but a success, and Jack Daniels, now retired and former Agent Whiskey had been a hero. As a thank you for all the years of service, Champ gifted your husband with a significant part of the Statesman's shares, which would assure you and your family a comfortable future to put it mildly. Not only that, but he also offered your cowboy his CEO job, not the whole chain, but from the local factory, which meant he didn't have to drive more than just a few miles until the distillery, sit down at his desk, get his demands done and come back at the end of the day to see his beautiful family. It certainly brought you a big relief, your cowboy would be safe and sound and your kids would grow up with their dad around. 
Once everyone finally went home, Jack had clarified all the professional details, he was able to shower, eat and have you take care of his wounds, stitching him up and patching him up, he was finally good to go. Of course, he had a 5 o'clock growing due to the days he was unable to shave, but he would have enough time for that. The important thing was that the four of you lay on the couch of your living room, relaxing and letting the calmness sink in. Your cowboy sighed relieved as he rubbed your arm up and down, at the same time the kids yawned but fought so hard their sleep. Wyatt was rubbing his little eyes, and yet, he didn't want to go to sleep at all, his tiny little hands caressed Rosie's thin and soft hair, the one that smelled like strawberry baby shampoo and he loved it. He giggled at her, who returned her big brother's affection by giving him a sweet gummy smile.
"Mommy, daddy, can I continue telling Rosie about the wedding?” Wyatt asked between yawns as Jack chuckled and nodded, his fingers toying with his son's soft curls, the feeling of his feeling surrounding him was better than anything he'd ever experienced before. 
"Go ahead little cowboy, just don't forget telling your pretty little sister how beautiful mama was” 
At his daddy's incentives, Wyatt let out one last long yawn and looked at his sister. 
“So, Rosie… about mommy's and daddy's wedding. Mommy was so pretty!” 
                           •••
The unusual warmth for December allowed you to have the wedding of your dreams: right by the willow trees, just as you had fantasized about since you were just Whiskey's girlfriend a few years back. Time flew by just as a lot of things between the two of you, things that had finally been settled and worked on, and your happy ending was near. You stared at yourself in the mirror, in awe at the fact the wedding dress suited you way better than you thought it would. It was a relief, as your pregnancy progressed, one of your bride's fears was not fitting into your special dress on your even more special day. Luckily, that wasn't the case. Everyone who helped you get ready, had been nothing but kind and honest, when they all told you you looked beautiful, but none of these compliments were nearly as heart warming as your son's, whose little eyes got brighter the moment he spotted you. He had insisted on getting dressed along with his dad, since he was convinced cowboys should help each other, but once he was ready in his adorable cowboy attire, he insisted on helping his mama this time, after all, you two had been best friends for a long time, so it was fair he would be by your side. Not only that, since he'd been officially invited to walk you down the aisle, Wyatt had noticed how important his task was, and he didn't want to do his mommy dirty, he wanted things to be perfect, so once he rushed to you, you simply got on your knees to hug your little man. In a way, if it weren't for him, none of that would be happening. 
"You're beautiful, mommy!” 
There was something Wyatt wasn't tired of saying, perhaps it was all the kindness you had in your heart you used to raise him well, or maybe he was just taking after his dad in being a charming cowboy, it was still too early to figure it out, but what really mattered for you, was how proud you were of the little human being he was becoming. Those were motivational things that assured you things were on the right track, when it came to raising and loving your family. As you twirled and your son clapped in excitement, he giggled and wrapped his little arms around your legs once more, not containing his urge of hugging his mommy once more. It never crossed his witty mind that it could wrinkle your beautiful dress in any way, but if you were being honest, neither did it go through your own mind. You'd never refuse any of your beloved ones’ caresses out of fear of wrinkling a piece of clothes. Things were perfect the way they were, you couldn't want anything more for the three - well, now four, of you. 
"Mommy! Daddy’s so nervous! He can't wait” Wyatt whispered between his giggles, not sure if that was gossiping or not, but he didn't see any harm in telling his mommy about important things like that, and those were important to him. You chuckled and held him again, placing a peck on top of his head and nodding. 
“Well, I'm nervous too… it's a dream daddy and I have, you know? It's coming true… it's like having so many butterflies in your tummy, kinda like when it's your birthday and you can't wait, that's all you can think of and you feel as if your tummy is funny but in a good way?!” You explained to him the best way you could, a way you knew your son was going to understand and you couldn't be happier about the face Wyatt was so damn smart. Good thing both your and the Daniels genes were a good mixture, because he took you by the hand with his smaller one and nodded. 
“It's time mommy!” 
The walk from the house to the willow trees didn't seem to be that long before your wedding day, you could've sworn things were a lot easier than they seemed at that moment, but each time you looked at your son's pure determination in taking you to his daddy, your heart calmed down. You figured your husband was as nervous as you were, but not only that, he was probably as happy as you were too, and in addition to it, he must've been so handsome. You just didn't expect him to be that handsome. So handsome that the moment you reached the willow tree path, everything seemed blurry and not so important. The decorations you knew were beautiful, the fairy lights on the trees, the roses all scattered around, the guests, all of your friends, fellow agents and important people who took part in your lives, all of that simply came second the moment you spotted your cowboy. Jack was so handsome, the gorgeous, flawless suit he'd been gifted by Eggsy and the Kingsman simply fit him like a velvet glove, perhaps it was that, or the way he took off his cowboy hat in respect at your entrance, knowing you should be the spotlight, after all, you were the bride, just not any bride, you were his bride and that was enough to make that old mushy heart beat nearly out of his chest. It was like nothing existed at that moment except you and him, and once the song played and your son took you by the hand, accomplishing the very expected task given to him, you could barely believe that was real, but it was, and you were marrying your cowboy. 
As you stood in front of your fiance, you swore you never felt such a stronger wave of love for him. You both had gone over so many things, but in the end, love overcame it all and there was no other way things would be like, you and him would finally be together, married, before the men and before God, forever and ever. 
"You look gorgeous, sugar” he whispered and took your hand, kissing it gently, before he turned to the priest and you did the same. The ceremony was short and full of beautiful words, exactly like you and Jack wanted. No boring services where you both and the guests would fall asleep halfway towards it. Your cowboy always defended the idea of small ceremonies and large parties, and you couldn't agree more. When you were both pronounced husband and wife, he kissed you, and you returned the kiss, the way he held you in his arms showing you it was real and meant to be, oh that cowboy meant business. But he didn't just stop there, once he broke the kiss, he got on his knees in front of you, like the gentleman he was and pecked your stomach very gently. An obvious and yet extremely delicate way of breaking the news to the world there was a new member of the Daniels family on their way. 
                             •••
As you carried an asleep Rosie into your eyes while Jack did the same with Wyatt - your husband was a gentleman, he carried the heavier one so your back wouldn't hurt - he couldn't help but chuckle. 
"He fell asleep before telling her about our wedding party, that was a good one” 
"And he couldn't even get to her birth either, but don't worry Jack, I'm sure we'll all be gifted with his version of the facts, all they gotta do is recharge their batteries for a little while and they'll be good to go, way better than us, by the way, because I'm exhausted” 
"Me too, sugar” 
Your cowboy planted a sweet peck on your lips, watching as you placed Rosie carefully in her crib and covered her up, tucking your gorgeous daughter in and allowing her to fly into her sweet dreams. Then, it was your son's turn, you followed Jack into Wyatt's little cowboy room and watched him do the same, tucking your son gently and wishing him sweet dreams with the loveliest whisper and closing the door behind him. And then it was just the two of you, finally the two of you. 
As Jack took you to your shared bedroom, you could already see a hint of sadness in his eyes. He was sure you were about to enquire about what happened on that mission, but the only thing you did was approach your cowboy carefully and slowly and kiss him. Feeling his heavy hands resting on your hips as they brought you closer to him at the same time you wrapped your arms around his broad width. Things didn't have to rush, not now, not at the moment where you were so deep into his caresses. As he broke the kiss, you stroked his cheek. 
"I know, Jack. I know you aren't supposed to talk about what happened on that mission, I'm aware it's top secret, but I also know you nearly died, so I just want to tell you I'm thrilled to know you aren't doing it again, I'm so happy you've finally retired, that way I don't have to worry about not having you coming back home to me, and well, us, your kids, your family. I just love you with all my heart, and I don't think I'd bear becoming a widow…” 
Your lips were immediately connected with his, as he felt the urge of kissing you once more, the way your words stung - because he knew you were correct, he knew missions were getting more and more dangerous, either that or perhaps Jack was becoming too old for that. But he also knew he had no right to screw things up, not when you two had built a gorgeous family, he didn't have the right to take that away from you by letting you become a widow, and god forbid Jack die before enjoying his marriage and kids. It wouldn't be fair, not after everything you two fought so hard for - still, your words melted his heart all at once, he loved you endlessly, more than anything in the world, and he wished he knew how to word that out for you, so a gentle kiss was the best he could come up at that moment. 
“You won't lose me, sugar. I promise you that much, you got all of me, I am retired and I'll be around so much you gonna get tired of my face all the time” 
“I doubt that, cowboy… I love you” 
"I love you too, my beautiful sugar. You're the woman of my dreams, my beautiful wife” Jack kissed your hands as he wrapped his arms around you, placing you down the bed and straddling you. He was having his way with you that night, something the two of you anticipated so much. There was nothing you wanted more than to sink into your cowboy's arms. Forever. 
                            •••
What Wyatt failed to tell his little sister before the two of them fell asleep exhaustedly wasn't the biggest part of the story, but you were sure he would've told her how good the yummy food was - and that he was the one who helped you pick it all up, and in case you and their daddy decided to get married again, for the party purpose of course, and nothing remotely similar to a breakup, Wyatt was sure you'd call Rosie for her help too. He would also tell her about how pretty it was to see the two of you waltzing, exactly like a princess and a prince, and how you and his daddy danced with Wyatt on the dance floor until he was too tired to remember what happened next. For the following months, there was nothing more than just pure bright happiness in that ranch. Wyatt started school, he was still in kindergarten, and as much as you and Jack were proud of your little boy, you could've sworn you saw a single tear run down your tough cowboy's cheek. He was thinking of how many important things he'd missed from his son's life, but that wasn't going to happen again. He was a present dad, the kind of person to attend any type of teacher-parent conference and be there all the time for his kids. He loved them with all his heart, and with the months progressing along with your pregnancy, Jack had stayed by your side at any given opportunity. He loved you, and he loved his baby girl, and every single night he dreamed of her; he dreamed of her sweet face, a face that resembled yours, as well as Wyatt's, and even resembled his own. He wondered what her hair and eye color would be like, and as he saw your pregnant belly swollen with his baby, the love seed he planted there, it also made his own heart swollen with pride. 
When you woke up cramping and soon enough your water broke, he felt he had won the damn Superbowl, driving you to the hospital in his Bronco at the speed of light and later on having Helen pick up Wyatt from school and take him to the hospital. By the time your lovely little cowboy was officially a big brother to your newest bundle of joy: Rose Marie Daniels. 
Although Wyatt insisted on calling her Rosie because he thought it was cuter and the nickname sort of caught on. If you usually went by ‘sugar’, your husband and son went by ‘cowboy’, why couldn't your beautiful daughter go by ‘Rosie’ after all?
And so went on your life as a married woman to the man of your dreams and your two beautiful children. There was nothing you could ask for, you had it all, and you loved every single part of it. 
                              •••  
A whole year had passed: your cowboy had finally gotten used to his retirement, out go super secret dangerous missions, and in come mornings spent at the distillery, supervising the production of the finest Statesman's liquor, afternoons spent taking care of the ranch and carrying Rosie all over, as the two of them waited eagerly for Wyatt to come home from school. You had talked to your husband about daycare, he knew it was quite a good idea, his baby daughter was smart and fast as a thunder, but the mere idea of sending her off to spend the whole day away from him was enough to tear his heart apart: he couldn't go without watching silly little cartoons, or making  cute piggy tails on her soft hair and allow her to take a daily nap on top of his chest and belly. She was almost turning two, and as much as it mesmerized him to see her blossoming and growing up so fast, it still saddened him to see how fast time flew by. He was getting a third kid fever, but he wasn't sure if it was happening; maybe it was, he still needed to talk to you about it, but those were later plans, he still had so much to do with his life, with his family, he wanted to enjoy Wyatt, who was now nearly turning 8. His beautiful Rosie was practically a toddler now, and there was nothing more he enjoyed in the world than picking up Wyatt from school and letting the kids run loose with you in the green fields while he grilled his famous burgers. Those were special days, because they had nothing elaborated in them, just a family moment among the Daniels, something the brokenhearted cowboy thought he would never get, but turns out he did. He deserved it all. After trying so hard to convince himself he didn't, after trying to convince himself he was just a heartless man, he was shown he wasn't a horrible human being as the two of you had thought several times. You two had come along a long way, but in the end, things had worked out, because your love was big and strong, and nothing in the world could come between you. 
As you watched Wyatt and Rosie playing with Silver Star, you walked to Jack, wrapping your arms around his body and kissing him deeply. His face was smooth as always and his mustache always trimmed, just as you loved kissing and riding quite often. You smirked at him and snuggled him.
“So, have you made up your mind, honey?” 
"About what, sugar?” 
“You know, running for mayor in this upcoming election..” 
You and Jack had discussed it, more likely drunkenly discussing the possibility, you didn't know if he had actually meant that, but you knew your husband well enough to see that fire in his eyes and the genuine will to help the ones in need and give it back to the city that took him in. He returned the smile and kissed your neck, warning a groan from you. 
"I still don't know, I think of it sometimes, it would be nice, I know I'd have support from you, the kids and quite a lot of people in town, but I worry it would make our lives too exposed you know, and I don't want that, I love our life the way it is, how happy and calm those kids are, I don't know about mixing up things…”
“Well, I want you to remember I love you and I'll support you no matter what. I gotta admit it makes me feel a little nervous to have this possibility of getting into politics and having our lives changing completely, although I'm sure I'd love to call you Mr.Mayor” 
And at that naughty line, you earned a smack on your butt, making you squirm softly and see your cowboy really enjoyed the nickname, even if he didn't try running for mayor. Still, there was something else you knew he wanted, it could be a future plan too, but it wouldn't hurt to talk about it. 
"You know, I was thinking that maybe in the near future, we could have a third baby… what about adopting this time?” 
And your cowboy's heart nearly exploded with happiness and excitement. There was nothing he wanted more than seeing his family grow. No matter if it was by blood or simply by love, for a man who bought a ranch to fill it in with broken promises and lost dreams, nothing made him happier than to see his family running all over that place with so much joy and excitement. The happy giggles and squeals, and to think that could even grow, it was just an endless bliss, the kind of bliss Jack Daniels, former Agent Whiskey had to pinch himself and make sure he wasn't asleep, but instead, it was his lovely, beautiful reality. 
"Daddy!!! We're hungry!” 
Wyatt chimed in as he ran to him, followed by Rosie, who clung to her dad as if her little life depended on it. 
"Yes, daddy, we’we hungwy!” She imitated her big brother, still not able to pronounce the R’s properly and making her daddy's heart melt into a puddle of love and affection. He got on his knees, wrapping his arms around his children. He loved them with all his heart. Just as much as he loved you, deeply, more than anything he had ever loved anyone. 
Jack Daniels, former Agent Whiskey, a man whose heart was once broken, was now a man full of love. He was devoted to his wife and his beautiful kids, nothing in the world mattered more than them and for someone who had been known as a heartless man, he was nothing but love and comfort for you, Wyatt and Rosie. 
The four of you were perfect for each other and maybe in the near future, there would be another addition to the Daniels, but until then, that cowboy was going to devote himself completely to you. 
He wasn't ever called a heartless man again, not with that amount of love he felt overflowing through himself. He loved and he received love, just like he was supposed to, just like he deserved it. 
____
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A/N: thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you all for the kindness and the support you all showed me with this story. It's been nearly a year of what should've been just a one shot and turned into a 20 chapter piece of work! I'm so happy and proud of myself for being able to write this beautiful story, nothing cheers up my heart more than knowing you all showed me so much love! Please besties, it's been a long ride, so if you can, leave me a feedback for our cowboy's last ride, I hope you've enjoyed it, as much as I did! Love you all and once more, thank you for the support ❤️💫
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blinkyblinding · 8 months
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I don’t see a lot of Tenya Iida love?? idk we need more of it. Here’s some fluff.
I 100% believe Iida wouldn’t realize someone had a crush on him. Oblivious boy.
It’s not that he looks down on himself, but he has other thing to worry about. Class rep, his brother, living up to his title, etc…
So when one day you magically confess? oh boy does it take him a minute.
You and Iida went to the same middle school. However, you don’t have a rich family. You got in on a scholarship and had a sarcastic attitude. You and him barely interacted back then, often with conversations ending in a sarcastic remark on your part and a scoff of disapproval from him.
Once you met again at U.A. You became closer realizing you had a lot of the same passions and interest. Eventually becoming really close, you hung out everyday with Izuku, Ochaco, and him.
Ochaco knew about your crush on him and decided to do what every antagonizing best friend does. “If you don’t tell him, I will.” oh, and she WOULD.
You decide to fake it until you make it. You can do it. It’s just a crush, right?
You feign confidence right up until the moment you and him are alone. “What did you need to see me about?” He asked, blissfully unaware.
Your heart is pounding, your stomach is cramping, your lungs are contracting.. “I really like you, Iida. I don’t just mean as a friend either! I mean it in a romantic sense… too…” you trail off increasingly more embarrassed. You feel yourself cringe.
he stays silent.
“…if you don’t say anything, ill do unforgivable things”
he blinks himself out of his trance. “I… wasn’t expecting this.”
you wince slightly at his statement. “yeah… me either” you laugh slightly trying to ease the tension.
“May I have time to think about this?” he asked oh so politely. like always, a little prince when he wants to be.
“Yea, of course. Just… don’t avoid me completely, okay?” you confirm with a sad smile. If this was the end of your newly found friendship with him then so be it. you’d just have to find someway to torture Ochako.
It was awkward at first. He would talk to you but only really when other people were around or to fulfill his class rep duties.
Then eventually you guys would talk like normal. It continued on like that for a while. So much so, you almost forgot about the whole confession.
He didn’t.
Poor boy was restless. Running through every scenario. What could have possibly made you feel this way towards him? Why? When?
they all flooded his mind.
He normally frowned upon high school relationships. He considered them distractors. Upon his self reflection, however. He realized he hadn’t ever really found himself in a situation to experience one.
Now every-time he ran into you, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Eventually, you consumed his thoughts entirely. How was he supposed to live like this? He’d catch himself stealing glances at you whenever he could. Immediately scolding himself and then continuing to glance.
It became too much, he eventually found time to talk to you alone.
“So.. about us.” He spoke softly.
“So there’s an us?” you responded jokingly, trying to ease the tension. A trait of yours he found himself charmed by.
“I mean, about our relationship? You do understand what I am trying to say right?” He says struggling to find the words.
“Yes, go on.” you nodded, letting him say his piece.
“I don’t know how long you have felt this way about me… it’s been bothering me. Bothering me so much in fact, I find myself thinking of you all to often. In the most random of times. As if you take up a permanent residence in my thoughts. It’s irritating to say the least. However, because of this I have viewed you in a different light. I believe…” A breathe, to reassure himself.
“I feel the same way about you.” He concluded.
“oh” you said blankly.
“oh?” he asked anxiously. “what does that mean?”
“I.. I really thought you were going to let me down easy”
“did you want me to reject you?”
“Not at all”
“so then… will you let me be your boyfriend?”
“…”
“is this how you felt when i was silent?”
“yes”
“yes? yes you felt this way? or yes to me as your boyfriend?” he asked confused more and more.
“yes” you said with assertion and a smile.
your smile, he thought, was so gentle. he hadn’t seen this before. Actually, maybe he had. He just never looked hard enough. He understood what you meant, without you saying a word.
relief floods over him. “okay” he said calmly as his posture softened.
He was never going to glance at you again. Instead, he decided, when he looked at you, you would be his focal point.
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heavens-hearken · 3 months
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head over heels
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pairing: daniel wagner x afab! reader
summary: something happens and i’m head over heels
a/n: what’s up, babes! this is a fic i wrote for my beloved allie because we agreed there’s a severe lack of breeding kink fics out there and we cannot stand for it! so here’s this, i hope y’all enjoy! warnings under the cut!
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warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, oral sex (f! receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected penetrative sex, breeding kink! (uhhh i think that’s it, please lmk if i missed anything)
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You had always been a hopeless romantic.
It only got worse when you met Danny Wagner. With his dark curls and his sparkly eyes and his crooked smile, he was a hero right out of your romance novels.
The moment you laid eyes on him, your heart literally skipped a beat.
You were introduced through mutual friends, at a backyard barbeque on the fourth of july; he was wearing a t shirt with the sleeves cut off and a blue swimsuit and there was a backwards cap perched atop his curls. You remember the way he smiled and told you his name and asked if he could get you a drink and you remember the way your stomach was overrun with butterflies within moments.
This was it. Your storybook romance was about to come to life and here was the knight in shining armor come to rescue you from the plights of modern dating. You could feel it.
And then it didn’t happen.
He stole your heart with that crooked smile and then he turned around and gave that same one to everyone else, every other girl. You wanted it to be yours, but it turned out Danny wasn’t interested in saving you from any tower. In fact, it seemed he was only interested in having some fun.
So, you pined and you yearned and you ached, hopelessly in love. You were a cowgirl and he was a wild mustang you could never tame.
And that was the reality you learned to make peace with- that you loved him, but he would never be yours. And because you weren’t an asshole, you kept being his friend. You kept up with the errands run together and the sushi lunches and the parties thick with smoke and wild with liquor. You were content with whatever piece he would give you, as long as you had something of him. Maybe it was sad and a tiny bit pathetic, but you were okay with that too.
What you weren’t aware of, was that every other person in your shared lives knew. How could they not? They caught the longing glances you would cast his way and the way you seemed fidgety and flushed every time he walked into a room. They saw it. The way you held on with two hands to every scrap he gave you.
It was someone’s birthday, a friend of a friend’s, but you were invited nonetheless and with you, you brought an old college roommate who lived out of state that you had recently reconnected with. Cat was a wet dream personified, from her looks to her confidence. And when you brought her out to the patio and introduced her to Danny and Dave, you saw Danny’s eyes light up like a tiger’s. When you glanced Cat’s way, you knew she had noticed and was ready to succumb to the role as prey for him to pounce on. And that was it. It was too much. You felt your vision blur with tears soon to be shed and your hands begin to tremble around the cup of liquor in your hands. So, quickly, you ran.
Cat, oblivious to your pain, shrugged and asked where the liquor was. Danny immediately offered to show her, but Dave, who caught the devastation in your gaze before you bolted, shoved him back down into the outdoor couch and offered up Sam as collateral damage. Sam, high out of his mind already and no idea of what was happening, simply stumbled toward the patio door and gestured for Cat to follow him into the house.
Danny glared at his friend, “What the fuck, man?” The words were sharp, but Danny paused when he saw the irritation and the disappointment in his friend’s eyes, “What?” Danny was clueless, completely unaware of why Dave was looking at him like that.
Dave huffed in disbelief, “You seriously don’t know what?” And when Danny shrugged helplessly, Dave simply spat out your name. This only confused Daniel more and when Dave saw this, he shook his head and pointed toward the shed where those who still smoked cigarettes were banished that you had bolted toward. “That girl loves you Dan. She’s loved you since I introduced you to her at Sam’s fourth of July barbecue two years ago. And you’re gonna fuck her friend?” Danny blanched at the words, following Dave’s accusatory finger toward where you had disappeared.
“I-“ Danny stuttered, stopping when Dave held up a hand.
“Tell it to her. Not me, man.”
Overcome with remorse at having hurt your feelings and desperate to mend what he had possibly broken, Danny pushed off the couch to his feet and without another word to Dave, took off toward the shed.
You were inside the surprisingly roomy shed, leaning against the workbench and pulling long drags off a Marlboro. He paused in the doorway, watching you bring the cigarette to your lips and then pull it away again, letting your head loll back as you blew out the smoke from your mouth. He saw you differently. He saw the blue nail polish on your fingers, the silver hoops in your ears, the beaded anklet around your leg, the way your lipgloss glinted in the light. He saw things he’d never taken the time to notice before, had taken for granted that you would always be there and he could notice them another time.
Then, the floorboard creaked beneath his foot and your head whipped around to face the noise. He saw your jaw tighten as you saw it was him and you turned away, crushing the cigarette under your foot, “Cat’s not here.” Your voice was flat, he never wanted to hear you talk to him that way again. He took a step further into the shed and he could feel you watching him in your peripherals.
“I’m not here for her.” His words were soft, but your brow furrowed at them. You scoffed when he took another step closer to you and shook your head, your arms crossing across your chest in a protective stance.
“What? Like you’re here for me?” Your words had bite to them, but Danny wasn’t fazed. He was looking at the way your hair fell and how your throat worked when you swallowed. God. Was he an idiot? How had he never seen it before? Seen you before?
“What if I was?” He ventured the question and you grit your teeth, fixing a glare on him.
“Don’t. Don’t be mean.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. You’re being mean.”
“How?”
You scoffed, threw your hands up into the air helplessly as you spat out, “Because! Because I have loved you every day from the moment that I met you and you do not get to come in here after eye fucking my friend and act like you feel the same. That’s bullshit. And it’s mean. So if that’s what you’re here to do, just get out. Just go.”
Every word brought you closer to tears and Danny closer to you where you still stood, frozen like prey, against the workbench. He stopped in front of you and you looked down and away from his searing gaze, not sure what to do with yourself with him so close. “Look at me,” he commanded softly, gently. You brought your eyes slowly up to his and Danny noticed for the first time the light smattering of freckles across your nose and the scar above your left eyebrow. “I’m an idiot. I’m a moron. I’m hopeless.” He saw your throat work as you swallowed the lump in your throat, though you kept your gaze steady on his still.
“Why?” The words are whispered and Danny reaches out- slowly, carefully, like you’re a deer and he might spook you- and takes your left hand in one of his, rolling it over so your palm is face up in his one hand. With his middle finger of his other hand, he traces one of the lines on your palm. It’s your heart line and you try and fail to repress the shiver that comes over you at his gentle touch.
He hums softly to himself, then informs you, “Your heart line splits off at the end, curves downward. They say that means that you would sacrifice everything for love.” You exhale shakily at the words as he traces the downward curve in question.
“How do you know that?” Your words are on a breath and Danny looks up from your palm, his eyes are so dark you could get lost in them so easily.
He smiles, that sweet, crooked thing that made you fall so head over heels for him all those years ago and asks, “You don’t remember?” You shake your head and he chuckles, looks back down at your palm and the lines there when he continues, “Sam’s birthday party, you read my palm, told me the same thing.”
You inhale sharply, a slow, hesitant smile curving your lips when you ask, “You remember that?”
He takes a half of a step closer to you, your hand still in his. “It was a crazy night. Jake was talking in that stupid accent and Sam started making drunk omelets for everyone. You and I were the only sober ones in the room. I remember being so happy about that.” You had been too. It had lit you up inside to play mother and father to a bunch of drunk Kiszkas and co. with him. His brow furrows and his mouth opens and closes a few times, like he isn’t sure if he wants to say what is on the tip of his tongue, “I’m sorry it took me so long. I think I knew it the moment I met you, I just got stuck.”
You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry, “Knew what?” It’s barely a whisper, but he hears it.
“Knew that I love you. Knew that nothing would ever feel right without you now that I knew you. Can you forgive me?” You feel just one tear slip from your eye as his gaze returns to yours and you practically melt to the floor in a puddle at his feet.
“Oh, Danny…” Your voice breaks on his name and when he asks if he can kiss you all you can do is nod and melt against him when he wraps you in his arms and crashes his mouth to yours.
He tastes like tequila and you taste like the cigarette you smoked, but you continue to kiss feverishly despite.
Bending you gently back against the workbench, Danny deepens the kiss further. You’re holding fistfuls of his t shirt, desperate for him to be closer, to kiss you harder. You whimper his name during the rasping breath you both take and he groans, resting his forehead against yours as he begs, “You can’t say my name like that. I’ll have to fuck you right here if you do.” His hands are scrabbling at your hips, clawing up your back, combing through your hair.
You speak between pants of breath, “Please. Please, Danny, please. Fuck me. Right here.” He squeezes his eyes shut at your pleading and then he crumbles, glancing over your shoulder and spying the cracked leather couch stuffed against the wall of the shed. Without warning, he lifts you into the air in an act that makes you squeal softly and then giggle. You wrap your legs around his hips and kiss him again, forcing him to maneuver blindly to the couch on the opposite wall. He tosses you down onto it and stands over you, undoing his belt with one hand and gazing at you with a breath-catching heat in his eyes.
Reaching for him, he lets you take his hands and pull him overtop of you. He’s careful not to crush you, but you wish that he wouldn’t be. He kisses you, your mouths slotting together so perfectly it makes your head spin. You whine softly when he pulls away, pressing a line of hot, open mouthed kisses down your neck and your collarbone, exposed in your dress. He continues the line down your body, scraping his teeth gently over the hardened bud of your nipple and making you moan softly. He shushes you gently, then continues his journey lower. Though you’re twitching with pleasure and anticipation, you try to reassure him he doesn’t have to do what he clearly intends to do and he shoots you a glare. “You don’t even know how excited I am to eat you out right now. Now, where was I?” He continues his trek down your body, settling on his stomach between your legs that you have spread as wide as the couch will allow.
He pushes the skirt of your dress up your body, leaving you in thin, blue panties, and then presses a kiss to each of your hip bones. When he frees you of the confines of your underwear, he groans softly. Eyes glued to your center, he mumbles something about you being perfect and then without wasting another moment he dives into you. Your legs snap shut around his head as the first hit of pleasure shoots down your nerves and you have to bite your lip hard to keep in the moan that crests. You gasp his name as he sucks your clit into his mouth, rolling the bud over his tongue and groaning at the sound of his name on your lips. He works you over, bringing you to the peak of searing pleasure in what feels like moments. There’s almost no need for him to learn your body, he already knows somehow. When you’re shaking with overstimulation, he finally separates his mouth from your center and crawls up your body to meet you face to face again.
“Are you gonna fuck me now?” Your words are a tad bit dreamy, but how can they not be when he looks down at you like you hung every star in the sky by painstaking hand.
Then, something crashes into him and he curses, “Fuck, I don’t have a condom. Are you-“
“I don’t care. God, I just need you.” You sound a little desperate as you cut off his question and a smug smile pulls crooked on his slick mouth.
He lowers his face to yours, kissing you once before moving to your ear, “Yeah? Am I gonna put a baby in you already?” Whimpering at the words, you can only gasp his name as he sucks a dark mark into the sensitive spot just below your ear. “My sweet, pretty girl… begging for me to fill her up… god, I want to get you pregnant.” When you moan his name this time it’s a plea and he answers with a groan of his own and then reaches down between your bodies, fumbling with his jeans to free his aching cock from their confines. When he does free himself, he guides the head of him to your entrance, just barely pressing inside.
You’re both breathing heavy, watching the other. You squeak as he slowly pushes inside of you and you hear his shaky exhale at the same time, knowing that the pleasure you feel he shares. He’s probably the biggest you’ve ever had, when he bottoms out he nudges your cervix with the head of his cock and there’s a tender ache searing alongside the sweet pleasure. He asks if you’re okay and you can only nod silently, your breathing shaky at best.
“Danny…” That one word is a plea and it spurs him into sudden action. Gripping the top of the couch with one hand and the arm behind your head with the other, he pulls out only to slam home quickly and all at once. A strangled gasp of his name is all you can manage, though there’s so much more you want to say.
He falls into a rhythm quickly, one that is brutal but so sweet. “Fuck, you feel like fucking heaven.” His words are gasping and desperate, his fingers white knuckled in their grip on the leather. “Oh god baby, I’m not gonna last I’m sorry. Feels too fucking good.” You’ve been chanting his name like a prayer, like it’s gospel, but you take in a shaky inhale and fist his t shirt in your hands to pull him closer to you.
“Cum in me. Please, I want it so bad.” Your begging words make him give a strangled moan of your name and his pace quickens and becomes uneven, his thrusts sloppy. You wrap your legs around his hips, bringing him even deeper into you and causing him to hit a spot inside of you that you’ve only been able to find with a very specific toy that will now lay abandoned in your nightstand. “I love you, give it to me. I want it all.”
He growls out a curse, his arm slipping from the arm of the couch to beside your head and allowing his face to lower to yours. He kisses you, speaking frantic words into your mouth, “I’m gonna cum, gonna fill my girl up. Gonna put a baby in her. Fucking hell. Fuck!” With that final curse, his rhythm stutters and you feel the warmth of his finishing spread out inside of you. You sing his name with him as he cries yours.
Collapsing on top of you, Danny gives a final groan buried into your neck. You press kisses to his sweaty temple, whispering his name and a handful of praises into his ear. You’re both boneless and spent, but after a few moments the weight of his broad, tall frame grows heavy on yours and you giggle breathlessly, “Danny, honey, you’re crushing me.” He mumbles a curse and lifts himself quickly, though you silently mourn the weight as soon as it’s gone.
He glances around the shed, looking for something but you’re unsure what. You’re about to question him when he looks down at you sheepishly, “I don’t think there’s anything in here to clean you up with…”
You grin slyly and a flicker of curiosity passes through his eyes, “Let it drip out of me. You’re finally mine. And I want everyone to know it.”
“Oh, baby, I’ve always been yours.”
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bugeater101 · 1 year
Text
If Only I Could Please Her
Synopsis: You were always one to appease your close ones. Friends, partners, family members, everyone; you just wanted them to be happy. Whether you did this because you wanted to or because you feared being the one taken care of is a different story. With Chan, you are still the same, until he decides to change your mind.
Content: angst (sad chan), fluff, smut, peoplepleaser!reader x stressed!Chan, sub!Reader x pleasuredom!Chan, thick!reader, first time sex, mentions of angry fucking (does not occur in story), slight marking!kink, slight lactation!kink, oral (f. receiving), use of toys (f. receiving), MULTIPLE ORGASMS (chan is a pleasure dom what can I say), unprotected sex (please please please use protection), reader cries from pleasure, creampie, breeding!kink, fluffy ending (so much fluff it is like tooth-rotting, sugar-coated, insulin-needing sweetness)
Word Count: 8.9 k (whoops sorry)
Author's Notes: This work was originally my own but I started to incorporate some ideas sent to me by an Anon. Thank you to that person!! I hope this pleases you (teehee get it because of the title). Also, yes, the title is a Wallow's lyric from "Pleaser".
Taglist: @scribblemetae @mygsis, @9900z, @taekbokki,, @imtoooyoungforthisshit
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To say Chan was stressed was an understatement. It was almost like a common trope, a cliché that had been overworked in its use to describe him. He was tired to the point where aches and pains were one with his body. A chronic pain cursed him which no painkillers could execute.
You had only been dating Chan briefly yet had known him for a long time prior. As such, you weren't unaware of how recklessly he treated his body and mind in an effort to maintain a constant work stream. It seemed, however, that your courtship with him only enhanced your worries about his well-being.
"Courtship"? Is that the right word to use? You two were practically launched into love from the moment you laid eyes on each other. Dating had simply allowed you to finally experience the desperation that plagued both of you when you were still acquaintances. So, "courtship" wouldn't be the best word. More like, "dating-for-the-long-run-but-every-day-is-haunted-by-the-dire-need-to-fuck-the-other".
Worst of all, you hadn't even had sex yet. The unspoken abstinence made you wonder if Chan wanted you as much as you wanted him. You wondered if he wanted you at all.
Countless times you had offered yourself up as a means to relieve stress. Handjobs, blowjobs, the like: you wanted Chan to finally relax. It wasn't like you felt pressured to do so. In fact, the offers you proposed to Chris were more of a way to satiate your cravings. Yet, Chan refused each time, which you respected. He claimed he wanted the first time with you to be "special", unlike the previous relationships either of you had been in. You obliged, thinking it would be nice to actually take things slow for once.
However, as time went on, you found it harder and harder to respect that agreement. And for multiple reasons.
Firstly, you were desperate. Simple as that: you wanted dick. Secondly, Chan was stressed. His work ethic had overloaded his system, and it didn't seem to be lightening any time soon. Comeback season was followed by award show season, and then the end-of-the-year performances followed by the rest of the tour. At this point, you were surprised that Chan was even still standing. You thought that at some point he would beg, plead, maybe even crawl to you to help him relieve some tension. However, he still stood proudly every day, silently suffering through the exhaustion of him and his members. Lastly, and worst of all, was that Chan looked so fucking good when he was tense. This reason was the one you beat yourself up for. While Chan was struggling, you couldn't help but think about how good it would be to ride him like that, releasing his buried tension with every pump of his cock.
Jesus, were you that dirty-minded? That even the sight of Chan, sweating and exhausted from a long day of schedules made you wet? You dismissed the thoughts one after another.
Ultimately, you blame the people-pleaser side of yourself. In most of your relationships, you had taken on a more dominant, yet attending, role. Even in friend groups, you acted like a parental figure, ensuring everyone's safety, fun, and overall well-being. When it came to former partners, you wanted to please— in and out of the bedroom. You wanted to make dinner because you liked to see the joy on their faces when digging into a homemade meal, you wanted to hear giggles of excitement when they opened new presents, and, to be honest, you relished in the panted and thankful moans of being relieved. Sometimes it was the other way around in bed: you'd let them use you, your body, to get their anger out. Sometimes it would be too much, so much that you couldn't take being someone's stress toy any longer. You did eventually end that relationship, and rightfully so. Still, it seemed like you didn't really learn your lesson: even now, you wanted to make Chris happy in any way you could.
Part of you thinks you fell into this sort of people-pleaser role due to the convenience of it. It's simply easier to be the one who made the plans, who helped out, who took care of everything. You disliked—possibly even feared—the dependence required of you if you allowed others to take care of you. Maybe that's why all your past relationships have ended. Maybe that's why, now, with Chris, you feel helpless because you have done so little in helping him feel better.
However, you still try. You still want, even need to make Chris feel good. It isn't even the charmer in you anymore: with the way Chan has been, any good partner would be concerned.
Today, you take matters into your own hands.
It was the last schedule for the week, allowing Chan to have his first free Saturday night and Sunday in months. You both agreed to a night in, his first one in a while. You had done everything right: your apartment was set with low-mood lighting and a full pantry. Freshly baked goods scented the air of the living room while the bedroom air was a condensed scent of vanilla and shea butter from the candles. Regardless of the impeccable condition of your apartment, you were by far the most delectable thing in it. You were adorned with a simple silken rose-coloured robe, seemingly relaxed and ready for an easy night in with Chan. You, however, had a few secrets hidden underneath your robe. Your detached and happy demeanour was the sugar-coating to your scantly-clad state, and you hoped that Chan received the message that you had more than just a self-care night planned.
Everything was perfect. Special, even. It was everything Chris wanted for your first time with him. All that was left now was to wait for him to arrive so you could dote on him, ease his worries, and consummate your so-far celibate relationship. So you waited.
And waited.
... and waited.
The night sky had settled and you were still alone. Chris had told you he would arrive by 7:00 and now, hours later, he was nowhere in sight. Initially, you tried not to panic, subsiding your anxiety by keeping the candles alight while occasionally fixing your makeup that enhanced the plumpness of your lips and the fullness of your cheeks. Still, there is only so much one could do before panic turns to simmering anger, and then to annoyance.
You now rested on the couch, reading and vigorously bouncing your leg, the baked goods no longer fresh out of the oven and some of the candles resting in a puddle of their own melted flesh. Each page of your novel stared back at you, its contents almost silently mocking you for being alone and reading it rather than being with Chris. You couldn't stand to look at the book anymore.
Sighing, you slammed the novel shut and tossed it aside. Your eyes dared to twitch towards the analogue clock that hung on the wall. This entire night you had been fighting the urge to look at the time, losing every time. And, just like countless times before, you lost the battle.
9:20 on the dot. No new messages on your phone, no missed calls. Nothing.
It wasn't the first time he had no-showed you, but at least he had given you a text before. Now, nothing.
In all honesty, you wanted to give up. Blow out the candles, wrap up the food, do your skincare and put yourself to bed. Something stopped you every time before. Yet, after hours with no contact, your patience was wearing thin and it became incredibly tempting to leave this night for another time.
Then you heard the door rattle. You shot up like a bullet, albeit more eager than you wanted to seem.
Chris entered your apartment and (though he still wore makeup ruined by a hard performance, had hair which had started to curl from the sweat of dancing, and was dressed in his basic dark loungewear) he looked heavily. Every frustration you had seemed to erase itself. The irritation that once berated you now had disappeared. Instead, you were left with the overwhelming urge to hug Chan. So you did.
"Baby?—oof!" You launched yourself into him, staggering him a bit as your arms wrapped around his neck.
"Chan!" You said happily. "God, I was so worried. Well, mostly annoyed, but also a little worried."
Chan's hands rested awkwardly outstretched beside him before finding comfort on your hips, wrapping around you. The two of you stood there silently, swaying in the entrance of your apartment as you felt Cris relax into your arms. The soft music you had let play began to encapsulate you two, filling the space of the words you wished to say to him. Then he spoke.
"I'm sorry," he mumbled.
Sadness was evident in his voice. Pain and weariness coated the two simple words he uttered. You pulled away, his hands still resting on you as your own nestled his face. His eyes were so... so solemn, like a kicked puppy.
"Chan, it's okay," you tried to say your words lightly and carefully. He was so clearly horribly upset, and it made your stomach churn. "Obviously I was upset, but you're here now. Please, tell me what's wrong? Why didn't you text me?"
Chan tried to look at you, to meet your eyes. He really did. Nonetheless, he still looked down. He let the weight of the tears that formed in his eyes hold his head down. As they started to trickle down, he pulled his hands off of you, placing them on your own and pulling them from his face to hold them.
"I'm so sorry," his voice was so incredibly melancholic. "My phone died and no one had a charger. When I finally found one, it was time to perform. We had to record four times due to camera errors and then they added a performance to the schedule. By the time we were able to leave, it was past 8:30 and I was on the other side of the city. I'm so sorry. I came here as quickly as I could. I'm sorry." Tears were streaking down his cheeks now. They were brimming your eyes, too.
However, you fought them off. You had to be strong, for both of you. If not for Chan, then for yourself. And if not for yourself, then for your eye makeup.
"Chan," your voice spoke up, answering his pleas for forgiveness. And, again, you tried to keep your voice light, despite the circumstances. "Baby, look at me?"
He shook his head, letting hot, salty tears fall down his face. Though he refused, you didn't accept his response. With his hands still around yours, you held his face again, forcing his head up and his eyes to meet yours.
"Chris?" His eyes glanced towards yours, his lip caught in his teeth as he choked back a sob.
"Let's get you something to eat, hmm?"
Chan smiled. A sober smile, but a smile, nonetheless. One that showed he wanted to laugh, but couldn't. He simply couldn't. But he could smile. So he did.
With the food readily prepared, you were quick to fix a plate for Chris. You happily watched as he snacked on the sweets, fruits, and tea you made him, listening to him recount his day as he slowly gained his energy back. The smiles you exchanged filled your heart: you were happy that you had made him happy.
But, was he happy? He smiled, he ate your delicious and well-made food, he complimented your makeup, and you helped him take off his, but... something was amiss. Every good deed you normally performed for previous partners would normally leave them a blushing mess, begging for more. Yet, with Chan, something was different. Like he was disappointed, almost.
You wanted to ask, but assumed it was because of the stress from the past few weeks— and especially tonight. So, you let him know that if he wanted to talk, you were always here. He nodded, glassy eyes looking like milk saucers as he agreed silently to your words. God, he was adorable.
"Channie?" you asked as he finished the last chocolate-covered strawberry, thus demolishing the last morsel of food you had prepared for the night.
"Yes, honey?" Fuck, the petnames. He knew what made your knees weak. You want to treat him right, please him like you so desperately want to do, and beg him to take his anger out on you. However, you still need to play it safe. It was going to be your first time with him, and you needed to play your cards right. You cleared your throat.
"Can we head to bed now? I'm starting to feel tired."
Chan grinned at you, relieved to hear the words that relinquished him from the chains of consciousness.
"I would love that," he gleamed. As you took his hand in yours, excited to show him what layered underneath your short robe, you felt your cheeks heat up. How could even the slightest touch from him make you flush? Gosh, he was perfect, such a good boyfriend. You wanted to let him know, give him everything—
*buzz buzz*
Chris and you simultaneously glanced down at the phone in his pocket.
*buzz buzz*
You reluctantly looked at each other, knowing that he had to answer the call.
"It could be work," he said glumly.
"Yeah, I know," you responded in the same faint tone.
*buzz buzz*
"Take it," you insisted, smiling despite the pit your heart fell into. Chan smiled as well, probably for the same reasons.
*buzz buzz*
"I'll meet you in the bedroom, you go on ahead," he told you, giving you a nod as a signal to leave.
*buzz buzz*
"Don't keep me waiting," you responded cheekily. You planted a kiss on the cheek, scampering off to your room.
You heard the faint sounds of Chris answering his phone, knowing it was his manager on the other line.
"Hi, is there an issue with the track that we're recording on Monday? I thought we cleared that up." You could hear him through the door, rolling your eyes at the thin walls of your apartment. In an effort to prevent intrusion upon his work-related conversation, you got to tending the forgotten room.
"What are you talking about?" Chan half-huffed, half-whispered- yelled into his phone. You pretended not to hear him. The candles were dim now, so you replaced the few that were completely exhausted.
"Are you kidding me!?" You could hear him yell. Again, you ignored it, humming to yourself in an effort to calm the atmosphere.
"What about Channie's Room? My day off?" In a flurry, you redispersed the flower petals on your bedspread.
"Fine... yeah, of course..." you heard Chris' voice at its regular decibel now. "I'll see you then."
The room was perfect. So, you sat and waited for Chris, fixing yourself exactly like you had imagined you would.
Chan didn't open the door for a moment. You could hear him sigh and his phone land with a thud on the couch. He had tossed it aside. He did that when he was sick and tired of it ringing. A beat passed and then he opened the door.
"Is everything okay?" You asked, your voice concerned and low. Chan closed the door behind him, eyes immediately focused on the ground again. Oh, no.
"No... no, it's not," he stated blankly. He did not notice the candles or how their scent consumed the air. Nor did he notice the rose petals on the bedspread. He didn't even notice you.
"God I—fuck—I can't believe they did that," he chuckled dryly. He glanced at you—if you think half a millisecond of time is enough to look at someone fully —and threw his arms up.
"Channie—" you began
"They took tomorrow night from me," he stated blankly. Your heart sank: you knew what that meant. No Sunday Channie's Room, no free night, and, most importantly, no full day off.
"We have to re-record some lines and I have to be in the booth helping out," he started, "then we got to get dressed up and do a schedule until midnight.
"Chan, please—"
"And then they have the fucking audacity to ask me if I'm resting well! No, the fuck I am not!" His voice shook—not with anger, but because of the tears brimming his eyes for the second time that night.
"Chris—" Again, his voice interjected yours.
"That means more time away from you, and that means I can't be there for you, or myself, or—"
"CHRIS!" It was your turn to interrupt him. You managed to stop his catastrophizing, cutting his sentence short. However, he still didn't look at you. His hands were holding his head, clearly trying to prevent the insanity from settling in.
You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. You let the silence fill the room. Then, you opened your eyes and looked right at Chris.
"Channie?" Your voice was soft and barely audible. Chan's hands had rubbed up his face and now smoothed his hair down, trying to tame the frizziness of his unkempt curls. Somehow, despite the worries that plague him, your voice broke him from his trance. It was as if, for a moment, he offered his attention to you in the hopes that it would pull him out of his adversity. With a sigh, he swung his arms down and let his hands smack against his legs, the act demonstrating his exhaustion. Then, once he was settled, his eyes glanced over to you, following the sound of your voice.
As soon as his gaze met you, he stilled.
You sat on his bed on your parted knees, relaxed with your barely clothed cunt hovering just above his petal-covered comforter. The pink lace lingerie you wore was visible under the rose satin robe that barely clung to you, slipping away as the knot of the strap became undone. A garter was situated on each of your fat thighs and suspended by a belt which hugged your plump waist, the colours matching the bra and panties you wore. Well, "panties" was a strong word: it was barely a few pieces of fabric and string. Your tummy peaked between the belt and underwear, completing your look with the sheer bareness of it all.
Chan's eyes were stuck on you; he could barely move. It was as if he could finally smell the vanilla and shea butter in the air.
"Channie... come to bed," you finished, fingers teasingly rubbing down the opening of your robe.
Chan's mouth went dry, his hands slowly clenching into fists to bring himself down. He needed to retain some semblance of serenity. Seeing you sitting like that while his mind raged pushed him towards something animalistic in him that he didn't know he had. One deep breath followed another, a feeble attempt at composing himself so as to not pounce on you. Who could blame him if he did? You were literally presenting yourself as ready to be used, to be loved, to let him have you. His breath was heavy, his pants now unbelievably tight.
"Please, Channie," you asked, your voice smooth and sultry. "For me?"
He licked his lips.
"Okay, y/n," he whispered back. "Okay."
He took a step forward, then another. His eyes never left you; he was hypnotized. As his legs met the foot of the bed, he slowly pushed forward and let his knee continue his crawl towards you. While Chan climbed onto the bed, you laid down, allowing him to mount you. Chan's hands planted on either side of you and his knees hugged your body, allowing him to look completely down at your helpless form. Your robe had almost completely undone, only held slightly together by a feeble knot. It displayed you to Chris, framing you in lingerie and making every instinct in his mind scream. Still, he stared at you calmly. Instead of doing what his animalistic instincts demanded of him, he shifted his weight, allowing one hand to rise up and brush a strand of hair from your face. His eyes were clear, tranquil— tearless for the first time that night.
"You are so beautiful, love," he mumbled as you brought your hands up to caress his face. "So beautiful..." Your thumb rubbed his cheek, feeling the heat of his blood creep toward the surface of his skin as you offered him this tenderness
"Wanna take such good care of you," you whispered as you kissed his face. "Wanna please my Channie."
All of a sudden, Chan looked at you like you were crazy, like you had said something off-colour or had suddenly spat in his face.
"What do you mean by that, y/n?" He asked, his voice still steady but precise. Investigative. You stared back at him with the same expression.
"I just... want you to use me? I want to make you happy, so, please, do what you want." Though your voice was sure, Chris seemed all the more confused.
"What? I could never—What?" He asked.
His words immediately caused humiliation to wash over you. You could feel your face heat up and you tried to pull away after his perplexing comments, hoping to undo what you had said. However, Chris didn't move. Despite your efforts, his body continued to cage yours. Actually, he did move closer to you, down onto his elbows so his body was still parallel to yours. The space between you two became air tight. You felt red-hot embarrassment flush your cheeks, eyes stinging from the threat of tears. God, what had you said that made him act so weird?
Your thoughts started to race as your heart pounded faster, the beat threatening to break your ribs with every pulse. Breath quickening, you wanted to beg, plead to Chris about what he meant. You wanted a chance to explain yourself, to go back in time, to ask him what he meant, please.
Then, you felt Chan rut his cock into you as he kissed your cheek.
"Mmh— fuck," Chris panted in your ear before kissing it, sucking on the lobe and kissing down your jaw. "You smell so fucking good."
"C-chris?" you whimpered out.
"'Use you'? I could never," Chris chuckled. "God, y/n, haven't you figured me out by now?" As his hands slowly slid into yours, interlocking your fingers, he captured your lips in his, softly catching your breath.
"But, I—" you protested, still confused.
"I'm gonna make you feel so good, y/n," he whispered as he continued the languid strokes of his bulge against your thigh. "I'm gonna make you feel good. So, so good. Over and over again. You feeding me, taking care of me... it's nice and I love it, but it's not what I want." One of his hands slipped from yours, replacing the aching absence of your touch by holding your jaw softly with it, pushing you lovingly into his kisses. He whimpered as your tongue licked his lip, begging for more.
"I'm the provider," he kissed you again, "I'm the dominant one." Another kiss, another harsh rut.
"I'm the pleaser, okay?"
Your mouth felt dry. He smiled.
"Please touch me, Channie," you begged.
"Anything for you, princess."
He pressed his lips into yours again, letting his hand slip from your jaw and down your neck. His fingers ghosted along your collarbones, then teased along the edge of your robe, slipping the knot of the robe and completely undoing it. He moved all his weight to his knees, pulling back to sit up and allow his hands to rub down your sides, moving the robe out of the way.
"All dressed up for me, sitting on a bed of fucking roses," he cursed. His hands continued to rub up and down your torso. One hand pressed over the flimsy material of your panties that clung to your hip while the other fondled your chest over your bra. All the while, his hips never ceased moving, his heavy erection so evident as he panted above you. The sight made you needy as if you already weren't.
"Chan, don't tease," your eyes were wide and shimmering, Chan's heart thumping at the site.
"Baby," he cooed, "it's funny that you think you can call the shots."
He let both of his hands rest on your hips now, massaging the squishy flesh eagerly as his fingers dipped in and out of the fabric, teasing the possibility of taking them off.
"I like to relax by making you feel good, yeah?" Chan questioned. You nodded in understanding, but, frankly, you just wanted him to rip your panties off and fuck you.
"So," he continued, the grip on your wide hips harsher, "that means I'm gonna tease you. I'm gonna make you cum over and over again. Every time we fuck. God, how I've wanted you." As he realized his dreams were becoming reality, Chris' words suddenly got to him. He couldn't resist his urges and, as such, allowed himself a moment of liberation, ducking his head into the crevice of your neck. Licking and biting it liberally, he inhaled your scent like he needed it to live.
"Fuck, please—Channie, I don't know if I can handle that," you whimpered as he left hickeys along your neck. Your begs made him chuckle, pulling away from you despite how you clung to him.
"Oh, princess..." he teased, "you'll just have to." His hands slipped from your body and grabbed the hem of his shirt. The fabric was quickly pulled over his head and across the room, leaving him straddling you and completely on display.
"God, now you're just being unfair," you pouted as you studied his carved torso.
"You love it," he laughed in a low voice as his hands returned to your hips. "Now, where were we? Oh... yeah, here."
Suddenly, his hands twisted the delicate fabric of your panties that dug into the fat of your hip and tore it off your body, shredding it to pieces.
"Chris!" You cried, hands rushing to cover yourself. However, Chan caught your palms and pinned them to your sides. The act caused him to know pin you to the bed again, leaving you vulnerable under him.
"I'll replace them, don't worry," he groaned with an air of nonchalance. "But know that I'll just rip them off of you. Again, and again... again..." His mouth attached to yours and stifled your protests. As he caught your moans, he soon detached his lips from yours and kissed down your body, still holding your hands. When he reached your covered chest, he released his grip and freed his hands to grope your tits, toying with your nipples through the sheer fabric.
"W-will you tease me all night?" You asked as his spit soaked the fabric, attempting to suck on your nipples through the barrier.
"At some point, you'll be begging me to go this slow," he growled. He then pulled away and studied his work, content with your glistening chest.
"It's like you're leaking for me, baby." Chris started to redden. "Like your tits are soaked with milk." Your flushed face matched his own, as if you were both shocked by the words that left his mouth
Unexpectedly, he chuckled.
"Don't act like you didn't love that, y/n."
"S-shut up," you mumbled, eyes darting away in fear of meeting Chris'.
"Like a little horny baby that can't keep her tits from gushing after being sucked on," he hissed. The embarrassment of his teases continued to catch your voice, making it difficult for you to speak. His lips then returned to your torso, kissing down your body and nipping at the belt that still desperately clung to your waist.
"We'll leave this on you, the whole night," he mumbled between licks. "No panties, no bra, but this stays." His fingers caressed the fabric, loving how it hugged your tummy and accentuated your curves.
"Mmh— fuck," you hummed.
His tongue licked your stomach, kissing the fat before his hands led the way down to your thighs. Chan planted open kisses on them, nibbling at the plump flesh as he pretended not to notice your begging and exposed cunt.
"I love taking my time with you," he moaned as your whimpers persisted. "I love pleasing you, y/n."
"Oh, Chris," you responded, voice filled with adoration.
Abruptly, his tongue met your clit and sucked eagerly on it, like he had waited a lifetime to taste you.
"Fuck—" you gasped out, grateful for the stimulus. Chan ate you like a starved man, his tongue kitten-licking your clit with a neediness that matched your own.
In an attempt to stabilize yourself, one of your hands began to pet his hair while the other played with your tits. However, the endeavour inevitably failed. Chan was insatiable, and it made you squirm in his grip.
"Hmph—Fuck, how can you taste so good?" He whimpered as he buried into you further, pulling you closer by hooking your knees over his shoulders. Tonguing your entrance, he refused to neglect your clit as his nose nudged it with every lap of his tongue. Both of your hands now held his hands, desperately pulling him into you.
"C-channie, I—"
"Come for me, baby," he urged as his tongue returned to your clit. "Please? Please, all over my tongue, soak my face, please?" His begs were too much to resist. His tongue immediately returned to your clit, moaning into your cunt as he made out with your pussy. Quickly, you found your pussy now clenching around nothing, cumming just from the simple pleas and the licks Chris offered to you.
"Such a pretty pussy," Chan moaned as he lapped up your juices, coaxing you through your orgasm. "Does what it's told, so nice for me." You whimpered at the dirty words he threw around. How did everything he say sound so sexy? So fucking perfect?
Before he let you settle, his tongue returned to your clit and his fingers now teased your cunt.
"No, Chris— w-wait, please, give me time," you hiccuped as two of his fingers eased into you, your cum acting as a perfect lubricant.
"Now, now," he taunted, "that was just one of many. Relax, y/n. Give me another, yeah?" He then continued to abuse your clit while his fingers curled repeatedly, continually probing that gummy part in you.
"Baby," you moaned as your legs wrapped around his head, hating the overstimulation but unable to resist it. The lewd sounds that came from Chan finger-fucking your cunt filled the room.
"Just another, give me one more, c'mon," he urged as he returned to licking your pussy, tongue feverishly eating you. With the quickened pace of his appendages, your pussy came unexpectedly, swelling around his fingers.
"Channie! I cum, I c-cum, cum, f-for Channie, cum" you mewled. Chan smiled as he kissed your twitching cunt, eyes burning for more. He then pulled his fingers out of you and sat back on his knees, enjoying the site of his hand caressing your sopping pussy lips as you rode out the last of your orgasm.
"Aww, baby's already fucked-out from two orgasms," he cooed. He leaned over, planting a kiss on your parted lips. "Gather yourself, princess. You have a long night ahead of you." You whimpered, swallowing your words as you found yourself unable to form a coherent sentence. Instead, you let your hands crawl up his chest to his shoulders, pulling him in and kissing him properly. Chan hummed into the kiss and relished the moment of puppy love.
Pulling away, he gave you a soft grin.
"Where are your toys, baby?" He demanded in a gentle voice.
"W-what? I don't have—"
"Please don't play dumb with me," he challenged, adopting a slightly condescending tone. "I've heard the buzzing when you think I'm asleep on the couch. I've seen the packages you've carelessly thrown out. Now, tell me: Where. Are. They?"
You were dumbfounded, caught in your lies. Yet, you had no escape. After two orgasms and with more to come, you were already Chan's dumb little plaything, unable to think for herself. How could you refuse what he asked of you, or even lie your way out? Silently, you raised your hand meekly with what little strength you had, outstretching an index finger to point towards the third drawer of your dresser. Chan smiled.
"Good girl, my good and fuckable little princess," he praised. For the first time in what seemed like forever, Chris moved off of you and freed from his unrelenting love. You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. As Chan kneeled to open your drawer, he glanced over at you and laughed at your weak state.
"Take your time, baby, but don't fall asleep on me," he hummed as he pulled open the drawer and began to search for the toys. "Finish getting undressed for me while I look, m'kay? But leave the belt on." You briefly considered taking the belt off, just to see what Chan would do. Then, with his next words, you decided to follow his orders.
"You don't want to know what happens when you challenge me." Though his voice was light, you feared what he insinuated by that comment. You were oddly intrigued, yearning to know what he would do. Yet, since you were already exhausted, you knew that today was no day to mess with your Channie. Especially since he had a rough day: you wanted to be good for him, and he needed you to be good for him. You still wanted to please. You left the belt on and continued to undress.
"Oh! I found your treasure," Chan teased as he fiddled through the drawer. God, if you weren't embarrassed already, you certainly were when Chan pulled out your large vibrator.
"What have we here?" He taunted, studying the body massager in the light like it was a precious artifact. You sat silent and petrified. Chris stood up, studying the massager and tossing it in his hand.
"This will do just fine," he smiled. Then, with a gingerly throw, the vibrator landed next to you on the bed.
"Use it." The air went stale.
"Chris, I-I'm so sensitive, please," you pleaded. Yet, he continued to stare at you. He barely noticed your tits were out, erect and still glistening from him lapping them up with your bra on. Well, it's not like he "didn't notice": he had begun to palm his erection through his shorts, licking his lips at the sight of you laid out for him.
"Start slowly then, love," he instructed. He stripped himself of his shorts, leaving him in his boxers and showcasing his fat and needy cock through the tight material. He then sat on the bed next to you and picked up the toy again. With a click, the buzzing ensued. Chan glanced at you before reaching for your hand, placing the vibrating toy in your palm and forcing you to hold it.
"Come one, y/n," he whispered into your ear, "you have to keep giving me all you got." His hands then caressed your legs and pet your hair, a faint act to show he was still going to coax you through your next orgasm. Then, his hands moved yours towards your pulsating cunt, his eyebrows raised in a display of fake anticipation.
You grasped the vibrator with both hands at it was forced into your clit, moans instantly leaving you as your body hummed with stimulation.
"God, it's too much," you whimpered, tears brimming your eyes. As you sniffled, Chan pressed kisses into your face and massaged your tits and thighs, pinching your nipples and groping your flesh.
"No, it's perfect," he corrected. "You feel all the love I'm giving you, y/n? All the pleasure?" He then let his hand leave your thigh for a second to switch the power higher on the vibrator, the humming now crying in your ears.
"Mmh! Fuck, yes, Chris!" You moaned as your thighs crushed the toy between your thighs. Each whimper that left you made Chan's smile more sincere, and more eager, and it made him switch your toy higher.
"You need to stop trying to make me happy, yeah?" he tutted, "I just wanna make you feel happy. Make you come. Over, and over, and over until you're soaked, and so easy to slide into, yeah?"
"Yes, yes," you moaned. "Just wanna be your perfect little pocket pussy, your fleshlight t-to use. Fuck—ah!" Another power increase.
"If you cum for me one more time," he softly spoke to you, "then I'll give you my cock. You'd like my cock, wouldn't you, y/n?"
You nodded vigorously, "Yes, yes, I want my Channie's cock, his big fucking dick so deep in me."
"Fuck," Chan groaned, increasing the power once more, "I'll fill you up when you take me, I'll give you so much cock and make you addicted to me."
"A-already am," you corrected, "already am obsessed with you, honey." Chan's hand pinched your tits, smiling as you approached your third orgasm of the night.
"My good princess," he kissed you lovingly. For the last time, he increased the power, the toy now buzzing at full capacity. "Now come once more and you'll get it, you'll get my cock."
"Chan, Chan, Chan, fuck—" you panted as you came. The sheets and your thighs became drenched in your cum as you squirted around the toy.
"My baby, so good," Chan cheered, so fucking happy at seeing your cum drench the cotton of your bedspread. Your hands fell beside you, the toy still buzzing as you gasped for breath. Chan smiled eagerly beside you, switching the toy off and tossing it aside on the comforter. He then laid beside you, pulling you close and nuzzling you. You lay completely flat as your chest rose and fell deeply, Chan cuddling into your side and holding you close. As if on command, his bulge proceeded to hump into your leg, desperate to get off despite your complete exhaustion.
"Fuck the sheets, don't worry about them. They were gonna be covered in cum anyways."
"Fuck 'em," you repeated mindlessly in a quiet voice.
"Y/n," Chan breathily laughed at your repetition, his hips still unconsciously bucking into your leg.
"Fuck these sheets..." you continued, "fuck the petals." You were completely gone, and Chan knew it. Yet, that didn't stop him. He played with your hair as he let you settle down, still rubbing into you as you sniffed your delicious scent.
"Yeah, fuck the sheets, my little cum-covered baby," he moaned, squishing himself closer and closer to you. Kisses ghosted your face, coating your skin in love. As his kisses moved from the side of your face to your nose and the center of your lips, he shifted his weight on top of you. Every kiss, however, became more determined, more eager, more desperate.
"God, I've needed you," he groaned as you clung to him, your body automatically responding to his touches regardless of how far your mind was. "I've waited to fuck you for so long, and I'm gonna make you come again and again. You've only given me three... Fuck, I wonder how many more can I get?" His hands suddenly slipped under your knees and wrapped them around his waist.
"Ah!" You yelped, eyes wide.
"That woke you up," he mused. He studied your glistening body, rubbing your legs and gripping your chest as he realized just how lucky he was.
"Fuck, your beautiful," he breathed out.
He then freed his cock from his boxers, the painfully hard erection slapping against his lower abdomen. Though you were depleted of all energy, your mouth instantly watered. He was large, veiny, and the perfect size with just a little bit of curve. You wanted to grab him and offer him a few much-needed strokes, but Chris' own hands beat you to it.
"Fuck, feels so good," he whimpered as he focused on his tip, pumping it quickly with a sloppy grip. His other hand now rubbed the mess between your thighs, easing two fingers into your quivering cunt to make sure you were still properly stretched out. However, the act made you convulse, still shaking from the slightest touch.
"T-too much, Channie," you whined. "God, 'm cumming too much."
"Shh, shh, baby," Chris hushed. He brought his thumb up to your mouth, pushing on your bottom lip with a mischievous smile playing on his face. "You are gonna take everything. Sorry if it is too much, but I gotta make you feel good." You let his thumb push into your mouth, offering it a few sucks to soothe yourself.
"There you go," he mumbled. Chris hissed with each swirl of your tongue. He pictured his red cock-head in your mouth instead of his thumb. And, though he desired to fuck your pretty mouth so badly, he knew he couldn't take it. He would've cum down your throat, and he didn't want to waste any of it by having you swallow it; he'd rather fill your pussy. He needed his cock in your cunt. Now.
"Keep sucking like a good girl, y/n," he hummed. "Yeah, just like that." With a final rub on his dick, he eased his dick between your legs. Gathering your cum, he rubbed his pulsing tip up and down, each stroke teasing your clit.
Your moans vibrated around Chan's thumb as your pussy clenched from the overstimulation.
"Shh, baby," Chan laughed, eyes pinched shut from the feeling of your wet, sensitive pussy. "Fuck, such a good girl with such a n-nice pussy—mmh, fuck!"
"Chris!"
It slipped in, just for a second. The tip of his fat cock sucked into your cunt, still tight but soaked from your juices. Just for a second. Not even.
But, fuck, it felt like heaven.
As soon as his cockhead dipped into your sopping cunt, you popped Chris' digit out of your mouth, moaning as he eased his veiny erection into you. For Chris, the feeling of you finally wrapped around him—still tight and twitching with every inch—made him lose the little sanity he had. When he first saw you in the bed, it took every bit of strength to resist his urges. Now, he felt like a horny teenager. The animalistic parts he tried to keep hidden, tried to restrain were now emancipated from his normally composed self. By the time he bottomed out, he knew he had lost all sense of control.
"Y-you better cum," he panted, slightly pulling out. Your watery eyes met his while your hands traced his abs, fingers delicately teasing the strained skin. "Cum when I tell you to," he finished.
He then pulled out and pushed in again harshly, mercilessly fucking your sopping cunt at a deep, reckless pace. The squelching sounds of your pussy around him filled the room and were harmonized by your moans that you felt unable to hold back.
"Such a tight, perfect little pretty pussy," he moaned as his hands fondled you. "God, y/n, what you do to me. So patient this whole night for my cock"
"Channie..." All you could do was moan in response or say his name. They were the only things that came to mind. What little energy you had left was expended to keep you awake, but that wasn't difficult with Chris rocking you on his cock.
"You look so g-good with my dick in you," he praised, "you look perfect, l-like it was made for my baby." He then reached beside your body, and as he did his body weight shifted so he was no longer sitting up. The angle did not change the speed of his hips nor how deep his cock dug into you. Your hands had someone found their way to his shoulders, holding him close and petting him gently: an act that contrasted the harsh snap of his hips. His face was now inches from yours, studying as his hand searched for what he yearned for. Glancing up, you caught a flash of colour and discovered what he grabbed.
The vibrator. Fuck.
It clicked on and the hum brought a smirk to Chris' face, a cocky expression still plastered on it.
"Chris! N-no—"
"Y/n," his panting voice stopped you. "Yes." Your eyes followed the buzzing toy down as it moved between your bodies, fearing the moment it would meet your clit. When it did, it made you yelp out again. Finally, after a night of torture, tears began to fall from your eyes.
"Hmph! Channie, w-wait baby, please," you wept.
"Give me another, c'mon, c'mon, y/n, baby, I know you have it, cream around my c-cock, baby, please," he begged as he rocked into you faster, enjoying the vibrations he felt on his cock when he dragged it out of your pussy.
"Chris, C-Chris, Chris," you babbled out.
Click. He increased the power.
Suddenly, your fourth orgasm was pulled from you, clamping around Chan's cock and gushing around him, but not as much as when you squirted earlier.
Chris, however, had never felt better.
"Fuck," he choked out, trying to hold himself back, "Fuck, you feel so good, you h-hug me so nicely. Wanna k-keep you on my cock at all times, wanna be able to f-fuck you always."
As his voice cracked, you swore he was about to start tearing up, as well. However, his pace never relented. When you came, he pressed the vibrator harder into you and let you ride out your orgasm on his cock before tossing the toy aside. Though you tried to cling to him, he pulled his torso off of you, allowing him to slip out of you and lightly slap his cock on your clit, making you shiver.
"Want another?" He teased as if he wasn't whimpering just moments ago. However, you could barely whine at the question.
"I'll give you another," Chris continued as he gripped your body harshly, flipping you over onto your stomach with his God-like strength. "I-I'll make you cum again and again until you pass out on my cock." You turned your head back to him, eyes suddenly pleading, loving the pleasure but also fearing how your legs shook without even being touched.
Chan chuckled, giving your ass a harsh spank and rubbing the pain away after you yelped.
"Get on all fours for now, okay? You've been so good, love." Mindlessly, you followed his orders, assisted by his hands as he gripped your hips, pulling your ass into the air.
He offered you some light spanks as he lined himself up. Teasing your entrance yet again, he slapped his leaking cock against your used pussy. Gingerly, he pulled the belt that still clung to your waist off of your body, then let it go. It smacked against you, making you whimper from the sting.
"Such a nice ass, beautiful fucking hips," he panted as you arched your back, accentuating the curvature of your ass. You glanced back, staring at the flushed man behind you. He was biting his lips so severely that you swore he would draw blood. The sweat that poured from him caused his curly hair to cling to his forehead and his chest to glisten. There was something about how perfect he looked that stirred something within you. It was as if, somehow, you found your voice, speaking a coherent sentence for the first time since your first orgasm.
"Fuck me, Channie," his eyes caught yours, shocked you were able to even think right now. "Fuck me like you mean it." Chan groaned at your words.
"Anything for you, princess," he responded. His fat cock pushed into you, hips meeting yours and rutting himself deeply into you. He set a steady yet carnal tempo, his grunts and moans becoming more vocal each time he buried his cock in you. Moans came unfiltered from your mouth, muffled only by the spent bedsheets that would never be used again after tonight.
"L-look at how your ass bounces on my cock," he whimpered. "S-such a fat, tight ass—fuck a wanna watch you ride me."
"Chan, your cock is s-so perfect," you mewled out, "Fill me up so well."
"Y/n," he moaned out in response. He bent over you now. Chest to back, fingers on your clit, cock rubbing into that soft part in your cunt. Fuck, he's perfect. Each circle around your abused and sensitive clit made you whimper louder and hug his dick harder. Yet, it only encouraged him to go harsher,
"I-I'm gonna stuff you full, fill your pretty precious pussy to the brim with my babies," he mewled, making you moan as well.
He grinned, "Y-you'd like that, hm? M-Mommy, make you a mommy. Make you a mommy so I can show everyone you're mine. Big tits, s-sensitive and leaking with m-milk after I fill you with my cum. Wanna keep you forever, need this pretty pussy forever. Fuck, it cums on command. Hugs me so well, so w-warm and tight and—fuck! Will b-be so good to have, let me fuck whenever, k-keep it and f-fill you up with my cum every day—Fuck!"
"Fuck your cum into me, Channie," you whimpered as his strokes became rapid and short, focusing on his head. "Want it, need you to fill me up. Wanna carry Channie's babies." Your words sent him spiralling.
"Fuck, y/n," he groaned. "Cumming, cumming. Inside—mmh! Gotta f-fill my princess—ah!" As his cum poured into you and his cock plunged deep, kissing your cervix. Your body convulsed and offered one last orgasm. You sobbed as you came, your cum mixing with his deep inside you.
"I cum," you whispered, "cum on Chris' cock, j-just as he likes." Chan laughed as he hugged you from behind, gripping your tummy, hips, thighs, and tits softly.
"Just how I like it," he murmured. "M-milking me dry, squeezing me with as you cream around my c-cock with your greedy cunt." He hummed into your ear, hips steadily rocking back and forth as he fell into bliss with the way his cum and your pussy felt around him. Once he was satisfied, he maneuvered you so you were able to lay down on the bed with him behind you. All the while, he was still deep inside you, a mixture of your cum trickling down both of your thighs.
"God, I love you, love your pussy, love you, so much," he mumbled as he rubbed your back, still buried in you.
"Chan..." you could barely respond. Yet, if you could, you would say you loved him, too. It was the first time he had said it, and he was buried in your full pussy. It wasn't the most romantic way of saying it, but it was memorable. God, was it memorable.
He stroked your tummy yet continued to hum, as if he were lulling you to sleep while trying to keep you awake simultaneously. It was as if he wanted to stay in this moment forever, perpetually buried in you and in absolute ecstasy.
"C'mon, love," he murmured after bringing himself dow, "let's take a bath. Get you cleaned up."
---
It was dark now and you lay silently on the fresh sheets that Chris had put on your bed. He had also blown out all the candles that were all practically puddles of wax. It was the late hours of the night, the kind of late where if you were to stay up a bit longer, you might be able to see the beginnings of the sunrise. Chan and you were about to go to bed. You cuddled together, him flat on his back and you laying partially on top of him. The air smelled the same as you: you had used the same body wash, the same lotion, and now laid on the clean soft linens of your bed. His chest beat slowly and rose to the rhythm of his gentle breaths.
"Do you think it'll work?" His voice was so soft, barely a whisper, yet it filled the whole room.
"What are you talking about?" You asked quietly, slightly fearing what he meant.
"Us? Our relationship?" Before you could panic, Chan began to elaborate. "If we are always trying to be the giver and not the receiver, how will there ever be a balance? Not like a... hierarchy, because fuck that." His words made you giggle, and you could feel a smile grow on his face as well before it faded with the next words he spoke. "But, still... I mean, we're both the ones who want to please the other. So... do you think we'll work out?"
You thought for a moment. With your head on Chan's chest, you swore you could feel his heart skip a beat as he awaited your response. Yet, he was joyous to see, through in the little light that played in the dark room, a delicate smile play on your face.
"I don't think it would be like a competition," you said slowly with almost a giggle in your voice. "I think that if we are always trying to be the giver, and always trying to be the one who pleases, then there would just be... a lot more love, you know? Always trying to make the other happy while still maintaining good boundaries, understandings, our own desires, needs... then, I think we'd be fine."
You glanced up at Chan, and through the darkness saw the faint glimmer of pride, love, and adoration in his eye.
"We would have created a house of love, not contempt."
You loved him back.
"I think we'll be okay," you finished. "We will work out. We'll be okay."
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It's So Hard To Watch (Everything I Want) - reality tv star!Rafe Cameron x Reader
I Feel You Underneath My Tongue (Next To Every Word That I Should Have Said): Part 1, Part 2
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Summary: You and Rafe had a long history together. The love that you shared wasn’t something that you’d ever questioned–not even when you guys were on a break from your relationship. But, suddenly he’s ghosting you. And the next thing you know? You’re getting a call from an MTV producer saying your ex Rafe is a contestant on Are You The One? and they need to come in for the ex’s episode of the show. And well, you couldn’t say no, could you?
CW/TWs: angst, female reader implied, cursing, toxic relationships afoot, a brief description of physical violence, implied previous physical violence, verbal harassment/abuse, not the most edited/reviewed
Words: 8.4k+
Note: Yes I used pretty boy blonde-era Drew for my header what about it!! And also? I used Jeff Probst because I thought it would be funny OBVIOUSLY he’d never host a reality tv dating show goodbye. So I started writing this a long time ago, forgot about it, and just revisited it to finish ‘er up. Now that said, uhhhhh I think I mayyyyy do a part 2 where Rafe gets back home because this is uhhhhh depressing and I Need closure. But! We’ll see!
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Rafe Cameron had never been one you’d see going on a fucking reality TV show. No. Not at all, in fact. You had known him for the majority of his life. You’d dated the idiot for three years too. After the breakup, you went no contact for your own sake—he was impossible to be around and not fall back into his arms, no matter how much you hated it. Rafe hated it more, though. He tried desperately in the nearly year and a half since your break-up to get back together. You watched as he genuinely worked on changing himself and improving.
But then, suddenly, four months earlier he’d gone radio silent. You’d be the worst kind of liar if you said that it hadn’t hurt you. The abrupt cut-off had made you realize just how close you’d been to taking him back. Apparently, that wasn’t in the cards, though. Apparently, he was entirely over you. No matter how much you utterly fucking hated that. No matter how much it fucking destroyed you after those first two weeks of realizing that he wasn’t going to be coming back.
It got even weirder, though when a fucking MTV producer reached out to you. We’re with MTV’s Are You The One? they’d explained. You’re the ex of one of our contestants Rafe Cameron. Literally what? Would you be interested in getting a trip to Hawaii and being part of the experience? And again, unendingly now, what the actual fuck had Rafe gotten himself into? And why the fuck was he trying to have you be dragged into it?
All of the emotions that flooded you when that phone call started were…violent to say the least. And you were sad too. Part of you had hoped that Rafe would get the fuck over himself and call you again. Part of you hoped that you would’ve been able to give it another shot. But no. Apparently, he’d decided it’d be much more fun to just, you know, go on a stupid dating show with MTV and find his alleged perfect match. It made you sick to your stomach.
Are You the One was a show that felt like it was ripped from your worst nightmares. At least if Rafe was a contestant on it with someone else. The show had a dating algorithm that helps quantify compatibility for twenty-two people. It uses, according to the producer, in-depth interviews, some questionnaires, and then compatibility tests too. So, in the end, the contestants are set with their ideal match. With “their one” apparently. So, the unaware participants have to then get to know each other and undergo tests all while living with all of each other. And if, in the end, all eleven couples were able to figure out who they were after all eight weeks were up then they’d walk away with one million dollars and, potentially, the future love of their life.
The thought of Rafe meeting…
Naturally, you accepted the producer’s offer.
Topper, one of your best friends, even now–even after everything, told you how stupid of an idea it was to agree.
Even so, he booked his own tickets to come to Hawaii with you.
And that was how you found yourself at an insanely gorgeous resort in Oahu a month later with little to no information on what was actually going on or what would be expected of you. The only consolation was that you were far from the only ex here. It looked like every contestant had one person here for them. You were, however, one of the only… normal-seeming ones. Not for the first time since landing you cursed yourself for going along with this stupidity. Sure they wouldn’t really have another ex to call for Rafe that was actually an ex but that was their problem, not yours. Besides, if there’s one thing MTV can do it’s lie about their reality television shows. Even so, waiting in their stupid green room area altogether for whatever stupid instructions were to come next felt…well, stupid.
You heard your name called over your shoulder and you turned your head. “Hey, pretty girl. Now who is your ex again?” asked an extremely tall, well-built, and objectively gorgeous man next to you. He was grinning at you, the look in his eyes displaying an all-too-familiar attraction. But, if there was one thing you weren’t going to be doing? Fucking any of these weirdos. But, a little flirting couldn’t help. “Was it…was it Ryan?”
“So close. Rafe,” you corrected, giving him a half-smile. “It’s Alex, right? And your ex was Thalia?” He nodded. You hummed, shrugging. They’d shown you the audition videos they’d been given and Thalia seemed…interesting. “She looked super beautiful.”
“Yeah, beautiful and an absolute fucking nutcase,” he said seriously, even as he grinned. “She was always doing some dumb shit. Trying to accuse me of cheating on her when I was at work. Trying to fuck my brother when I told her that we were done.”
You let out a low whistle. “Damn, so you got a score to settle then,” you mused, leaning back in the chair to look at him. “I can respect that. I’m sure the producers love it.”
He nodded. “Oh they do,” he confirmed. He nudged your shoulder playfully and then winked. “Sorry, but I might be dragging your man down because of it. Word on the street is they’ve been paired up the past two weeks or something.” Your heart squeezed in a sad pain and you dutifully ignored it. “Don’t trip though, I’m gonna set him straight on what’s up with Thalia.”
“I don’t care,” you immediately replied, voice sharp and entirely unconvincing.
He barked out a laugh. “Yeah, sure,” he agreed, rolling his eyes. “You’ve been sitting here alone in your own little world instead of talking to all of us so I got a feeling you’re a little wrapped up in all this. And in him.” You shook your head in denial, rolling your eyes at the very true accusation. He chuckled again and this time you raised an eyebrow at him. “So what? Did y’all like break up a week before he came on or whatever?”
Clenching your jaw, you reminded yourself that this was just a stranger making conversation. There was no need to blow up on him. That was Rafe’s thing, not yours. “We broke up like a year and a half ago,” you said plainly.
“After how long?” he asked curiously.
“We’ve known each other since we were kids. We started on and off hooking up in…like high school—which our friends hated, of course. We went to separate colleges, but like…we just couldn’t stay away from each other. And by the time my senior year of college came? We were visiting each other practically every other weekend. Our friends had to inform us we’d been dating for like two years already at that point,” you said, shrugging. “But after he officially asked me and we made it exclusive…official…whatever? We were together for a little over three years.”
His nose wrinkled. “And y’all still run in the same circles and all that?” he asked, a sympathetic grimace on his face. You nodded. This time, he let out a low whistle. “Yeah, that’s fucked. Known each other your whole damn lives and he still couldn’t post up for you. That’s crazy. You’re way too beautiful to be treated like that.”
“I know,” you said dryly.
“Nah, sorry, sorry,” he said, winking. “I don’t mean it, like, to flirt with you. Promise.” You raised an eyebrow and he laughed. “Okay, only a little.” He sobered up, rubbing his hands together. “Still. Must be hard. Can’t even have that separation.”
You hummed. “No, we did. After the break up for like a month I didn’t talk to him. Avoided all our mutual friends, the whole bit. But then I remembered how much I fucking loved him regardless of our relationship. The…the issues that we had were…I didn’t leave him because I didn’t love him. I left him because I couldn’t keep enabling him. Remembered I didn’t want to lose that. So, like…I started to talk to him again. He was making genuine…good steps toward being a better man. One that he claimed would be worthy of me or whatever. But then five months ago or so he just…stopped talking altogether. Wouldn’t answer a phone call, text…nothing. So I just…took the hint. Next thing I knew I was getting a call from a fucking MTV producer. And now here I am. Talking to you.”
“You want him back?” the guy asked curiously. You glared half-heartedly at him. “No, no. I’m just asking because I fully plan to hook up with Thalia tonight, I ain’t gonna lie to you. So I’m just saying that door’s gonna be open.”
“All I want from him is to know why he went on a dating show and dragged me into it,” you corrected. He smirked at your side and you held up a hand in warning. “Don’t you say a damn word. What was I gonna do? Say no to a free Hawaiian vacation? Fuck that. I’m gonna stay here and enjoy myself.”
“Then go home to eat a metric ton of ice cream and cry, right?” he asked casually.
“Fucking Christ, dude we just met!” you said. “Why you dragging me like I’m the one dating your ex?”
He laughed. “Oh, no, baby girl, I’m gonna be dragging your ex. You? I’m just teasing,” he said.
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “I mean, hey, feel free,” you said, inclining your head.
That seemed to end the conversation between you both. Just in time, it seemed because a producer then came and started herding the group around like cattle. Each of the exes was briefly obsessed over by assistants who made sure our outfits—ones they chose, of course—hair and makeup were all perfect. Only when everyone was set were you approached by another production assistant.
“Alright listen up!” the stern-looking young woman called. “We’re going to be sending you out in pairs. So whoever your ex is matched with currently is who you’re going to be going out with. We’re sending you out and leaving a minute gap between to get the reactions of the contestants. The plan is to send you out in order from the newest matches to the longest matches.” She glanced down at the clipboard in her hands. “So first we have the newest match Amelia and Jacques, so…Jordan and…also Jordan line up.”
You watched as male Jordan and female Jordan stood next to each other. On and on it went. Ten couples called before you. You felt your hand trembling at your side with unexpressed emotion and you drummed at your thigh in an attempt to stop it. Ten couples called before you.
“I told you they were together, gorgeous, didn’t I?” Alex whispered in your ear as you stood side to side.
“Last couple, and the longest…Rafe and Thalia,” she said. The words stung and settled in your stomach like lead. Your feet moved you into the line at the end before she’d even finished saying yours and Alex’s name. Alex stood next to you, his hand brushing the small of your back, bringing you back down to the moment, snapping out of the distraction. “Alright. From the top. First two, my Jordans, you’re out in two minutes. I’ll be right back to get you.”
“How you feeling hearing that?” Alex whispered to you. “It’s been six weeks in that fucking house and they’ve been together like all of it. I’m fucking pissed.”
“I don’t know why I came here,” you admitted after a moment.
He barked out a laugh. “Well, too late to back out now,” he said dryly.
“Yeah,” you whispered. You folded your arms across your chest watching as the first group was taken out then the next then the next then the next. Abruptly after the last before you were taken out, you looked to Alex. “Do I look okay?
“What?” he asked, surprised.
“Do I look okay? I can’t walk out there if I don’t look okay,” you replied anxiously, wringing your hands in front of you.
He looked you up and down grinning. “You look super fucking hot. Don’t worry about that,” he said easily, slinging his arm around your shoulder, jostling you gently as if you were lifelong friends and hadn’t met two hours earlier. “Now buck up, gorgeous. We gotta get our game faces on. We gotta go.”
As if summoned by his word, the production assistant came back for you two gesturing you two out into the fray. You kept your face carefully neutral, noting Alex doing the same at your side. You exited, eyes doing anything but looking in the direction of the contestants. You moved onto the pedestal where the other exes were, Alex’s hand touching your lower back as you both moved up. You gave him a half-smile, recognizing the reflexive protective gesture. You could feel burning stares on you and you hated it. Evidently, someone didn’t like that.
Eventually, having no other choice, you turned your eyes towards the contestants. The first place your eyes fell was on a taller woman, with perfectly tanned skin, gorgeous dark hair that practically hung to her ass, and—speaking of her ass, boy did she have a good one. Thalia. You could tell because your eyes drifting just to her side was your Rafe. No. Just Rafe. Her Rafe, actually. He looked relatively at ease by his posture. But, both of them were glaring at you and Alex.
“So,” came the voice of the host. “All of the exes are here.”
MTV had managed to bag Jeff Probst of all fucking people. Appropriate, you supposed considering that the show was modeled after Survivor in that there are competitions and voting involved. Much lower stakes all around, physically at least. Everyone nodded at Jeff’s words and you couldn’t help but try to pretend you were on the Survivor jury instead of standing here in this objectively awful situation. There was a low murmur from the contestants’ side. But, on the opposite platform, everyone was silent.
“Wow…pretty silent here,” Jeff commented. “Especially considering I know how loud all of you can be on days like this.” He looked pointedly over at the contestants. “So…how are we feeling? What’s it like seeing your exes standing here looking at you as you stand next to who you hope to be your perfect match?” He made a point of looking over at us and then back to the contestants. “Thalia, why don’t you tell us how you’re doing with all this.”
The girl next to Rafe took a dramatically deep, shaky breath. You watched as Rafe’s hand moved to her back, rubbing it soothingly. He looked down at her, a soft sort of look in his eyes and you felt nauseous in a way that you didn’t expect. You carefully steadied your breathing and focused your gaze just past them. She took a moment, turning towards Rafe and murmuring something that you were sure the mic packs on them could pick up even though you couldn’t hear it. You watched as Rafe replied quietly and then pressed a quick kiss to the side of her head.
It spiked your fucking blood pressure.
“Thalia,” Jeff prompted.
“Sorry, Jeff,” she said, a sugary sweet voice watery and wavering. “It’s just…it’s hard. To see him. And to see her too, honestly. I mean…I mean knowing what he did to me. Knowing what she did to Rafe. Hell, knowing what everyone else’s exes were like too…this just…it’s awful, honestly. We’re here to try and move forward and still somehow it feels like all we’re doing is sliding back.” She fanned at her eyes.
“You seem really upset,” Jeff said, nodding. “How does it…how is it that the mere presence of your exes could cause this much stress for you? Do you not have confidence in your relationships? Do you think this is going to cause problems…have the cracks started to show?”
“Fuck no!” Thalia snapped. “I just don’t want to even see this bitch. I don’t want to see her even fucking breathe in Rafe’s direction. I don’t want her ass to even speak on him. I know that the way she treated him and it doesn’t matter how fucking pretty she is on the outside I know what an ugly, horrible, frigid ass bitch she is on this inside! I don’t need that fucking energy around and Rafe sure as shit doesn’t! It’s not my fault she fumbled and lost him! He’s a fucking catch and I’m not gonna act like I’m not glad about it. He’s my man now and she’s just gonna have to deal with it. That’s it. The end. I don’t fucking care! I don’t want to see her stupid ass face.” She scoffed. “And you know me, Jeff. I’ll fucking beat someone’s ass if they fuck with the people I love.”
You didn’t particularly care about the girl’s words. You didn’t know her. She was an attention-starved brat…or rat if you were going to give in to the more malicious thoughts in your mind. She wanted to be famous…as famous as you could get from trashy reality TV, at least. Her words didn’t matter. Rafe’s reaction certainly did though. He just clenched his jaw and looked up towards the sky and then cast his eyes down. Still, his hand stayed on her back, rubbing it soothingly. That boiled your blood, admittedly. And, it seemed that the girl’s words actually pissed off Alex more.
“Watch your fucking mouth, Thalia. God, you don’t even know her,” he said snappily.
“Oh, and you do? You don’t fucking know her or the shit she’s done. Don’t even talk to me,” she snapped back in reply.
“Just like how these people don’t know all the shit that you’ve done!” he replied. He turned his eyes to Rafe. “And you? This girl? Who you claimed to love for years and years and years and have known like your whole life, what? You’re cool with some girl you met a month ago talking like that? The fuck is wrong with you, bro?”
“Don’t fucking call me bro,” Rafe said, a lazy, hard-edged smirk on his mouth and a glint in his eyes that displayed the carefully concealed rage just beneath the surface. “And you need to watch your fucking mouth coming in here talking like that to anybody.”
“Yeah, okay,” Alex scoffed, rolling his eyes.
Jeff cleared his throat. “Emotions are already running high,” he noted. He said your name, turning all eyes towards you. “You haven’t even said a word and yet you’ve been the center of attention since you came out here. So, what’s all this like for you?”
You hated the feeling of the lights and the eyes all on you. It made you want to twitch. Instead, you kept your face in a mask and shrugged. “Don’t particularly care,” you said blandly.
“Yeah because you’re an emotionless robotic bitch,” Thalia near-yelled.
“Thalia. Let’s let her talk,” Jeff said, his words a suggestion but tone a command. He turned back towards you, gesturing at you with his hand. “Please, go on. Tell us why you decided to come if you knew something like this might happen.”
You gave Jeff a saccharine smile. “Always wanted to visit Oahu,” you said, biting back the sarcasm that threatened to overcome you. The other exes laughed in amusement and agreement at the sentiment but sobered up when Jeff called us back to order.
“Nothing else? It didn’t have anything to do with a desire for closure? To feel like you had to warn someone else about Rafe? To see how you’d measure up to this potential new perfect match he has? These are just some of the reasons that exes on past seasons have given for their appearances,” Jeff pointed out.
“Nah, definitely not for closure…I don’t think this place is where you’d get something like that. You’d kind of be an idiot to try with some people, I’m sure,” you said. Then, you shrugged. “And I have no desire to warn other people about Rafe. Everyone’s got their own red flags and no one listens to advice anyways so there’s absolutely no point.” You hummed, lips twitching up for a moment then flattening out. “And yeah, I don’t care about whatever potential little…perfect match or whatever there is. I don’t compare myself to other people, even when they apparently desperately want me to. So…yeah, Jeff. It really just is the trip to Oahu. And hey? Who else were they gonna call for Rafe?”
Lies. Lies. Lies. Lies.
It was so much more than that.
You’d die before admitting it.
“Interesting,” he said. “And, not to make things uncomfortable. But let’s address the elephant in the room. You’ve looked at Rafe maybe twice since you came in here. What’s it like to be with him in a situation like this? What’s it like to have Alex next to you defend you from his own ex’s words all while Rafe doesn’t say anything?”
You let out a short laugh. “Yeah, I don’t usually stare at people, so I certainly don’t feel any sort of need to do so now. And I’m not particularly…surprised by him not defending me. It’s never been his style,” you said simply. You saw him tense slightly and roll his eyes but you ignored him wholly. You glanced over to Alex. “It was nice of Alex to defend me, I guess.” Thalia scoffed and you resisted the urge to launch yourself at her and punch her. You were better than that. You weren’t going to be the asshole here. It was going to be clear that it was her. You were determined. “But I’m a big girl. I can fight my own battles.”
Jeff nodded. “Well, you haven’t reacted to what most people here would consider a fight being brought directly in front of you. Thalia has made it extremely clear how she feels about you. She’s also made it extremely clear what the people in this house apparently think about your past relationship with Rafe. What do you say to all of that? Is that not worth fighting for?”
“That isn’t a fight,” you dismissed. “That’s people who don’t know me or the person that they’re getting…some form of information from. I don’t care how much trauma dumping you do in six weeks. You’re not gonna have a clue who you’re dealing with. I promise you that. So I don’t care what she’s saying at all—I’m never gonna have to see her again after this. I have people who care about me at home. I have people who know me. These people?” You look at all the participants and shrug. “No offense. I’m sure you’re all great in the real world. But you mean absolutely nothing to me. Your opinions mean less than nothing to me. Your opinions about me? Nothing. Your opinions about the relationship that I had with Rafe? Nothing.” You looked back to Jeff. “You want me to be honest, Jeff? I don’t think that the ‘fight’ being brought to me or whatever you wanna say is even worth this conversation.”
Jeff smiled and nodded at you. “One of the most mature responses that you could have in the face of someone being so openly hostile to you a minute after you even come out here,” he said. He looked over at Alex then. “And you, Alex? Do you feel the same?”
“Absolutely, Jeff,” he said, nodding. “I don’t know these people and I don’t care. They’re not why I’m here. But nah, unlike her I am gonna tell the facts of how Thalia is. Because I’m not cool with her walking around here acting like she’s a victim when she knows damn well she isn’t one.” He scoffed. “And knowing that she’s potentially a match with her ex or whatever? I’m sure she feels at least a little the same.”
“What do you mean by that?” Jeff coaxed.
Alex shook his head. “Just saying, Jeff,” he said vaguely. “I’m not gonna get into it yet. That’s for me and them to talk about later.” The nebulous reference clearly being either Rafe or Thalia…maybe even you. You truly didn’t care about that.
“Fair enough,” Jeff said. He clapped his hands together and turned his body towards the participants. “Now, Rafe…you’ve been very quiet so far today since you found out what was going on tonight. What’s going on in your mind?”
Rafe was silent for a moment. You watched as Thalia turned her body towards him placing her hand possessively on his stomach, stroking it as if trying to be soothing and missing the mark entirely. He didn’t spare her a glance. You could tell he was overwhelmed to some level and his brain was shutting down, only letting him focus on one thing at a time. You could see it in the slightly dazed expression and the pinched turn of his eyes.
“I don’t know Jeff. It’s always hard to see people who meant the world to you and then just…didn’t anymore,” Rafe said vaguely. You actively had to remind yourself to keep breathing evenly so your breath wouldn’t hitch in your throat at his words. “I mean, like, for all of us. These are people who were important in our lives somehow. They’re representations of problems we have in dating. All that. So yeah, it’s like seeing…I don’t know…your mistakes personified for a lot of us.”
You couldn’t help but recoil at that slightly, taking a half-step back like you took a physical blow. The words seemed to register with the rest of the crowd. Murmuring happened on both sides, some of disapproval of his words, some of approval of what he’d said. You took a deep breath, making your face neutral when you felt a girl next to you wrap her arm around your waist. You took the opportunity to use it to ground yourself, wrapping your hand around hers in turn. As much as you hated that you needed it, the support was appreciated.
“Wow,” Jeff said. He glanced at you, saying your name, and then back to Rafe. “Do you think she’s a mistake, Rafe?”
“She taught me a lot about myself,” Rafe said. “And I’ll always appreciate that. But not all relationships are supposed to last. Some of them are just to help us learn more about what we want in a relationship and nothing else.”
“You didn’t answer the question,” Jeff prodded. “Do you categorize your relationship with her as a mistake?”
Rafe looked at you and you met his eye head-on, refusing to be impacted.
You could tell what the answer was going to be before he even opened his mouth.
“Yes,” he said steadily. Immediately, he looked away.
You felt like someone had reached into your chest and tore your heart out. You were suddenly glad that your hand was wound around the girl so no one would see how you were shaking. Your face you could control. Even your tears. But your hands? No. All you wanted now was to go back to your room and call Topper and tell him that you were going to crash with him in Kona sooner than you planned. Crying to your best friend for comfort was the only thing that would even potentially work. But that would have to wait until the night was over. You would be strong until then. You had to.
The muttering amongst the groups on either side grew louder once again. You kept your brain fuzzy and uninvolved, not letting yourself sink into the sticky discomfort of your feelings that would swallow you and encase you in pain like a fly in fucking amber. You couldn’t do this. Not right now.
“And how does that feel?” Jeff said, the question directed at you. “Hearing Rafe call your relationship a mistake? What’s that like for you? Do you feel it’s a fair representation of the relationship you had with him?”
You paused for a moment, looking towards the ground and then back up, a fake smile turning your lips upward. “Well, I’ve known Rafe more or less my whole life. He had a real temper on him when we were younger. So, it’s nowhere near the worst thing that Rafe has called me,” you said. “And besides, he can call me whatever he wants. It’s his right—we live in a free country, right? Whatever. I’m sure that there are things that I’d call him too if I thought it’d make me feel better.”
“And what are those?” Jeff asked, eager to hear some rebuttal from you, clearly.
“Nah. I’m not doing that,” you dismissed. “I feel no need to say that shit. It’s useless.”
Drug addict. Cokehead. Alcoholic. Asshole. Entitled. Liar. Petty. Mean. Fucking mistake. Those were just a few of the descriptors that came to mind.
“Alright. Let’s move on then,” Jeff said, neatly moving the conversation away from you, looking at the girl who had pulled you to her side in a show of support and was still. “Valeria, I see you here with your arm wrapped around her. Supporting her when you met her less than a few hours ago, really. In a show of support that, sometimes, we don’t even see from our own contestants. You hear her ex-boyfriend say something you deem hurtful and you immediately step in to be kind to her. That’s something that I doubt just anyone would do. Clearly, you’re a person who cares deeply about others. What’s it like to see Patrick, a man you loved, in a situation like this where he’s putting love and attention into others?”
“Well, Jeff. I just think it’s a shitty thing to do. You don’t talk about people you loved like that. Not if you really loved them. Because if you and your new girl or whatever are gonna gang up on her that’s fucked. So I’m gonna step in. As for Pat? He’s always been a very…free-spirited person with his affections. That was never gonna change. So…I sincerely hope he can find some form of happiness,” the girl said easily, the words falling off her tongue while she continued rubbing your back.
The conversation portion with the whole cohort of participants felt fucking endless considering you knew it would take up less than ten minutes of an episode. But, eventually, it mercifully was coming to an end. You could tell Jeff was winding it down, wrapping it up, and ready to move on. But, then he hit you with a curve ball.
“Now, for the true purpose of today: communication. You’ve all matched up for this week. You and your potential match are going to sit and spend two hours with your exes. You’re all going to have a conversation getting to know each other,” Jeff said. “Spend some time actually getting to know each other. Talk about the problems that you had in your failed relationships. Talk about the things that worked. The things that you admired.” He gestured towards Rafe. “Or the things that you feel made the relationship a mistake. This is going to be a game changer in terms of figuring out if you’re a perfect match or not. We only have two couples that you haven’t locked in yet. Just two couples you assume are perfect matches, and even them we don’t know. So? Pay attention. This could be one of the last obstacles between you and one million dollars. After that? You’ll spend an hour talking to your ex. Alone. Try to have a meaningful conversation. Then? You’re going to spend the night, all of you, all of your exes, partying poolside. Take the time then to talk to other exes of people who might otherwise be your perfect match. Make it a good night.”
Your blood felt like it had turned to ice in your veins. You had to spend an hour talking to her and to him. Well, at least you’d have Alex with you, you supposed. But, it still was terrible. This felt, frankly, like a heinous punishment that you didn’t deserve. You forced yourself to appear unmoved.
“I know we’re all excited,” Jeff said. He clapped his hands. “So let’s do this. Let’s split you all up.”
The director called cut then, and the atmosphere changed. Only slightly. The participants all relaxed marginally, posture loosening. But, the exes all remained tense. Valeria rubbed your shoulders next to you. “You okay?” she asked. “That was shitty to say.”
“I’m good,” you said, nodding. You gave her a weak smile. “Thank you though. It was super nice of you. I appreciate it.”
She nodded. “I meant what I said. No one deserves that,” she said. “Good luck with your conversations. They both seem real fucking peachy keen to be around.”
You bit back a laugh but Alex, evidently listening, didn’t bother. He laughed openly. “Yeah. Definitely gonna be a fun few hours for us for sure,” he agreed. He winked at you then. “Promise I’ll try to not fight your boy, gorgeous. But if he runs his mouth like that, I’m gonna shut him up.” He playfully tapped your chin, tilting your head up for a second. “And do shut Thalia’s shit down. She has no right to be talking. And I know she’ll just be running her fucking mouth.” You nodded jerkily, not wanting to even comment on it.
Eventually, you were all ripped apart. You were given a brief rundown of the hour and how long you’d actually have cameras on you, where they’d be, hard conversational limits, and everything in between. They set it up so that you’d be in a room with only cameras set up, not operated by cameramen. It would just be you four. God fucking help you all.
“It’s gonna be fine,” Alex said, trying to offer some form of comfort, his hands folded across his chest as he sat back on one of the couches. Rafe and Thalia were about to be brought in and you both were stressed in different ways. And all you could think about was the cameras set up around the room, recording every last piece of this.
You simply nodded, unable to speak. You felt in your bones that this was going to be absolutely fucking awful. But you’d play nice. You’d pretend you didn’t want to scream. You were surprised, however, when Thalia and Rafe entered the room. Thalia walked in, with a smile on her face, and plopped down on the couch across from Alex and you, throwing her feet up with ease. Rafe followed behind, sitting next to her, letting her practically lay over him.
It was gonna be a long fucking two hours.
An even longer night after that.
Fuck, this was a mistake.
“What the fuck are you two doing here?” she demanded.
You didn’t even flinch at her harsh tone. You were working extraordinarily hard to not react with malice to her stupid words or her earlier actions. It was honestly hard. The silence on your part seemed to only serve to anger her more. You didn’t react to her anger and instead stared blankly at her. Alex, next to you, clenched and released his jaw, openly rolling his eyes at her.
“You really don’t get what’s going on here, do you?” she asked rudely. Still, you offered no response and she shook her head disdainfully at you and Alex. “I really don’t care what you and Rafe are or what you do today. You don’t mean shit to me. And at the end of the day? I know where his priorities are now. One day wouldn’t change that.” You tilted your head, still looking at her as if watching paint dry. “You’re not gonna fuck up a million dollars for the people in this house.”
Unable to help it, Alex barked out a laugh. “Fuck, they get Jeff in as a host and suddenly you think this shit actually is Survivor, huh? Fucking crazy,” he said, rolling his eyes. “None of the exes give a fuck about the people you’re with. Or your stupid ass game or any of you, actually.”
Thalia smirked at that. Your hands twitched with the urge to strike her, but you stifled it. “Oh, I definitely believe that,” she cooed, mocking.
“Thals,” Rafe said, sounding tired.
“Baby,” she said immediately, voice fake and innocent. You wanted to scream. Rafe said nothing further. Thalia set her eyes on you then. Her eyes were hard and calculating. “You especially. No one wants you here.”
You leaned back, folding your legs in front of yourself. You crossed your arms and drummed your fingers against your arm. “In what world do you think that I care what you want?” you asked dryly.
Thalia scoffed. “You’re such a cold, heartless, inconsiderate bitch,” she spat.
“Wow, those words mean so much from someone who doesn’t know me at all,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be filling some stupid little challenge now so you can try to get a million dollars for everyone in this house who probably doesn’t need it?”
“You’re just mad that you,” she tried.
“That’s where I’ll stop you,” you drawled, leaning sharply forward. “Shut the fuck up. You sure run your mouth a lot for someone who I am sure is just desperate to be painted as a victim when the editors go through and make their little arts and crafts project with their footage. And that’s all fine and well and good. Really, sweetie, oh I’ll be rooting for you. I will. But, here’s the thing. My emotions? My life? All that? Not for fucking you. And not for a fucking camera.” You gave her a cold smirk, leaning back again. “Far be it from me to make your boyfriend’s mistake worse, right? So you keep your fucking hands to yourself and you stop running your mouth like you’re hard and we won’t have a fucking problem tonight. Then? We never have to see each other again.”
“This is so fucked,” Alex said. He cleared his throat, eyes leveling on Rafe, interrupting the conversation between you and Thalia. “So, you a cheater too just like her, bro? Or are you just gonna be the next guy she tosses aside?”
Rafe’s jaw clenched. “Don’t fucking talk to me,” he warned.
Alex cut his eyes over to you. “See that’s why I said I’d drag your fucking ex, gorgeous. Because this guy? Something ‘bout his face just…pisses me the fuck off.”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Thalia snapped.
“Thalia,” Rafe said, voice sharp. “Don’t make this harder.”
“Oh?” Thalia demanded, rounding on him. “Is this hard for you?” She was sneering at him now in a way that set your teeth on edge. Something about the way she spoke to him reminded you of Rafe’s dad. And suddenly this match made you feel physically ill in a completely different way than it had before. You looked away, hand clenching around your knees. “Well, I’m just so sorry about that, Rafe. How dare I have emotions! I really must be the issue, huh!”
You glanced over at Alex. “She talk to you like that a lot?” you asked him bluntly.
“She don’t know how to talk without being a bitch,” Alex said icily. “And evidently that hasn’t changed.” You bit your tongue to keep from saying well then neither has Rafe’s self-esteem or trauma responses. Alex snapped his head back over to the other pair. “Hey, good to know you haven’t learned how to talk to someone else if you’re so highly evolved Thalia.”
That, for whatever reason, seemed to set off the volatile girl more than she already had been. She looked about ready to launch herself at Alex. Seeming to recognize this, Rafe grabbed her arm gently as if to refocus her. It was something that he’d done to you a fair few times when you’d been together and someone had done something particularly aggravating and you needed to calm down. This proved to be a…bad move. Thalia did indeed refocus. All of her rage onto Rafe, that is. The second that you saw her slap him, though? It was your turn to see white.
You weren’t fully connected to your body as you moved, reacting to the sight. You were on your feet, physically dragging her by her stupidly long hair off of Rafe and throwing her away from him. She seemed stunned that you’d done that. She then seemed pissed you’d done that. So, naturally, her stupid self tried to rush you. Again, you pushed her back, getting closer and closer to being willing to actually hurt her.
“You wanna fucking run that again, princess?” you demanded icily. “Try to hit me, bitch. I’ll fucking hit back I promise you that.” You got closer, glowering at her, practically eye to eye. “You been fucking throwing hands at him? I know that wasn’t the first fucking time? You get off on this shit?” It had been easy to spot the punch she tried to throw. It was even easier still to deflect the punch shoving her far harder. “Try that again and I’m gonna fucking lay your ass out so help me fucking God.”
“Thalia.”
This time the word came from Alex. The word was flat and unimpressed. A quick glance over at him showed a largely disappointed look on his face. And somehow, seeing that seemed to be enough to force Thalia to get a fucking grip. She stopped, slumping back and sulked, walking over to sit down next to Alex. You watched, genuinely disgusted, as she laid her head against Alex’s shoulder and he let her. And when she burst into ugly, blubbering tears you weren’t surprised, but you were angry.
You clenched and unclenched your first three times trying to will yourself to relax some. But, nothing was working. You took a deep breath once…another…another…and another ten times still before you were able to look over at Rafe. He sat there, face pale and eyes cast down. You moved on auto-pilot, the kind of thing that used to be second nature and innate but now felt more…disjointed…forced. You laid your hand softly on his wrist so he’d notice it before moving your hand up to his shoulder. You squeezed it in a pattern of three and his head slowly moved up. He looked at you, dazed and you didn’t know if you were more angry or sad for him, really.
“Stand up,” you said quietly. He looked confused. You clarified. “You’re not staying in this room with that fucking lunatic. And Rafe…I swear to God don’t fucking argue with me on that. You’re lucky I didn’t break her fucking nose. Let’s go.”
Seemingly in a daze, he rose. You cast a look over towards Alex as Rafe followed like a shadow over to the door. You glared at the other man and he gave a half-hearted frown of apology as if he’d expected something like this to happen. That didn’t make anything better. So, you simply shook your head and turned again. You yanked the door open and let Rafe walk out first, face still drawn. You shut the door quietly behind yourself and laid your hand gently on his bicep before gesturing him down the hall. We found not a producer or even an assistant first but instead, Jeff fucking Probst who looked startled to see us.
“You’re supposed to be,” he began.
“I’m supposed to be beating a bitch’s ass for putting her fucking hands on him like some little—” you cut yourself off. You cleared your throat. “Sorry. Forgive me. Thalia fucking hit him. Doesn’t seem like it’s the first time. So if I were you? I’d go ahead and get her the fuck out of here before I call my dad who works in entertainment law and let him tear this piss-poor production apart. And feel free to tell production I said that.”
Jeff winced. “I understand,” he said. He looked at Rafe. “I’m…I’m terribly sorry that happened. That hasn’t happened before as far as I’ve been told. There are mental health staff in the bungalow attached to the house. Go there. I’ll explain everything. Some people will stop by to talk later though, I’m sure.”
“Good,” you replied sharply in place of Rafe who still wasn’t speaking.
Following Jeff’s advice, you shepherded Rafe towards that bungalow where a kind woman gestured you two in before leaving to go get some…paperwork? Who the fuck knew? Who the fuck cared? You looked over at Rafe who was still silent, face pinched. It wasn’t hard to see his leg slightly shaking and the jittering of his hands.
“I hate knowing that wasn’t the first time and that you’d deny it to protect her,” you said bitterly. “Rafe you don’t know her. And you deserve better than that. Just like you always have.”
“I don’t,” he said, his voice coming out short and quiet. “I don’t deserve anything good.”
You pursed your lips and shook your head. “Thought we’d moved past the self-deprecating bullshit,” you commented. “My mistake.” You sighed. “Rafe…your family and friends all love you still. Even now. So don’t waste…your heart on shit like this. Fuck this show. You can afford to break whatever contract you had. Hell, my dad could find a loophole and sue for you I guarantee it. But you…you can’t stay here. You…you deserve good things. And that? That…person...who they’re trying to call your perfect match?” He stayed silent. “You got matched with her because fundamentally you still find yourself in the same place that your dad wanted you to be. You think that you owe everything to everyone else and don’t want to take responsibility or…ownership over anything. For fuck’s sake, Rafe. Do you really want her to be your spokesperson? You want anyone like her to be your spokesperson?” You shook your head vehemently. “You are so much better than that. I don’t…I don’t know if you can see it. I don’t care if you can see it. But it’s true. You threw away a year of sobriety and years of building real self-confidence and not your fake bravado bullshit for this?”
“No you don’t understand,” Rafe said. “I am sober. And I didn’t want–”
The door to the bungalow opened and the woman bustled in, hands absolutely full of stuff. You rose to your feet before the woman even had to open her mouth to tell you to leave. “Cast only,” she said anyway, uselessly.
“Yeah, right,” you said dryly.
“Wait…where are you going?” Rafe asked, face breaking open into vulnerability for a moment.
“Home,” you said shortly. “Worst vacation…ever.” He looked hopelessly confused at that news. “You should call my dad, Rafe. Like now. You are not supposed to go through this shit alone. You know he’ll help you. You have his number.”
“I can’t…they…I don’t have my phone,” Rafe muttered, looking away from you.
Your eyes darkened. “Fuck’s sake these people,” you muttered. You took your phone from your pocket and called your dad before the woman across you could say a word. You gave your dad a curt explanation and he said he’d be in Hawaii in ten hours before briefly chewing you out for not saying where you were going beforehand.
“You can’t leave,” the woman said. “We need to—”
“Don’t care, didn’t ask, go through my fucking lawyer,” you said sharply, handing her your father’s business card. You glanced at Rafe. “He’ll be here in ten hours. Most likely super pissed. So…he’ll raise hell for you.”
“Are you…” Rafe trailed off. You raised an eyebrow. “Will you…stay?”
Your heart shattered and healed and shattered again in an ugly, impossible sort of way. “I…” you tried, trailing off immediately. “You…” Still no luck. Eventually, you were able to settle on, “I need to leave. I need to go home. I…I can’t fucking be here. I can’t see…this. I can’t hear…whatever you’re gonna tell my dad. I can’t see whatever footage he’s gonna have them dredge up. I need to go. Home.” You looked at him, letting out a shaky breath. “And you should consider doing the same thing. As soon as humanly possible.”
Your name spilled from his lips and it sounded so right and so wrong in that moment. “I…I’m…” he tried, voice breaking.
“No,” you denied, giving him a bitter smile. “Don’t. I don’t…I don’t want to hear it, Rafe. I really don’t. I wasn’t going to see someone hurt you. I never have. I never will. But facts are facts right?” His face fell, knowing what you meant. “And I’m a mistake. Let’s not drag it out any longer, right?” You shook your head. “Good luck, Rafe. I…wish nothing but the best for you.”
“I didn’t…” Rafe tried. “I can explain.”
“No,” you denied, holding a hand up. “I can’t do this. Not here. Not now. I’m…done with this. With all of this. Truly.” You let out a devastated-sounding, sad sort of sigh and offered an obviously fake tiny smile. “Just let me know when my dad gets here—you know he’ll forget to.” He went to speak and you held up a hand. “He’ll get your phone back if these psychos don’t give it to you by then.”
“I will,” he said immediately in reply, a sad, almost puppy-dog-like look in his eyes.
You sighed, biting back the urge to cry or scream…or anything else really. “You know what? Never mind. Call Topper. I…just…just let him know. He’ll tell me,” you said, voice going numb.
“Wait,” Rafe said, his voice shaky. “I…I want to tell you.”
“Rafe…please,” you said, giving him your best pleading look and more than willing to beg him if it meant he’d give you a break.
“I…okay. I…I’m sorry,” he said, frowning, looking genuinely remorseful.
As you started to leave, rage somehow carrying you as the influx of adrenaline faded, your name fell from Rafe’s mouth once more. You turned your head to look at him, silent and waiting. It took a few moments for him to crack. The time lingered, settling into crevices of yourself that long seemed gone—abandoned and disappeared with Rafe’s own missing presence. Yes, this was too hard already and the situation had just made it impossible.
“Get home safe,” he said, his voice breaking.
You let out a bitter laugh turning back around and heading out, refusing to turn your head. You knew that if you were to look back you’d cave immediately. And you couldn’t do that.
“You too, Rafe,” you offered blandly.
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natewriteslol · 10 months
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Remembering History
Summary: When Leona finds Cheka crying his reminded of his own childhood struggle. What will he do to comfort someone so unlike himself?
Characters: Leona Kingscholar, Cheka
Warnings: nothing really just a little sad :O
This should have been what he wanted, to see the young brat who snubbed him of the chance of being kind. Leona was third to the crown, a child would have the opportunity to rule before him.
So why did he feel sadness?
The Amber eyes that typically could be found gleaming were prickling with tears and his mouth was pried open as he choked on his sobs. This wasn’t a regular temper tantrum, this was true hurt Cheka was experiencing.
He was most definitely caught off guard, Leona had never really comforted anyone let alone a child, “Why are you crying?” But this question seemed to further put salt in the wound of the young beastman.
So, Leona decided to soften his approach, only to stop this crying of course, delicately placing a hand upon the back of the child as he bawled in his corner of beanbags and plush toys. Allow him to cry, and maybe then he would be able to find the root of the problem.
Eventually Cheka had slightly calmed down and decided to look up at his uncle, his eyes stinging and swelled from the crying, “I-I was practicing with my tutor a-and I messed up on the problem and Mrs. A g-got super mad and said I was h-hopeless.” The five year olds hands retreated to his eyes, covering them in shame.
“A-and I know you think I’m a screw up too, Uncle.”
“I can’t do anything right.”
“The younger son is quite a handful isn’t he? But you can’t help but feel pity for him, he didn’t even inherit his father’s features” the servant gossiped to another, yet none of them knew that Leona was in a corner, playing a game of hide n seek.
“I mean it must feel horrible knowing the real truth at such a young age, though I feel like he’s in denial. But everyone knows no matter what, nothing will grant him the position of king…
“He can’t do anything right, not even be born at the correct time” the other servant giggled whilst folding the towels.
As Leona watched the display before him from behind a houseplant, yet despite hiding he couldn’t escape their scornful words. His heart began aching as he felt the same pressure on his chest as the day he watched Farena and his father secretly discuss his plans for the eldest son’s future. He could barely breathe, as his saliva soured in his mouth and the castle had never felt colder.
Farena tapped him, loudly giggling and shouting “Found you!”. Yet his brother was unphased by the touch instead looking at the servants with an hardened expression as they gazed in horror.
While he knew it was factual that he couldn’t be the king, causing a battle inside of him. However, Leona never thought that it would be obvious to others. In every fairy tale one opens, the prince goes on to become to be king, so is he truly worth anything if he wasn’t king?
As Cheka cried, Leona began to see himself in the child, he thought his nephew would be unaware of pressure or immune to sadness due to the loving family he possessed, or the fact that he shall be king.
As the child’s tears seeped, creating a puddle in his shirt he realized how naive of him it was to think that. But instead being shrouded of regret and self pity Leona realized he needed to be with him now.
“That woman will no longer be teaching you, I will be sure of that,” Leona said, and for the first time he caressed the child’s soft red locks.
“I don’t wanna disappoint you,” the young boy murmured into his shirt, but the grown beast men’s ears picked up on it of course. But he was speechless, Leona had no issue being rude to his father or others.
He thought that he would have no problem with doing the same with Cheka, yet he found his stomach sinking, remembering that the young boy had been aware of the distaste he had for him all this time?
“You’re…you’re not a screw up, you have potential and…you’re a good kid,” Leona said, finally breaking the silence, it was tough to say but for once when no one was around, had to shoo away his built up ego for him.
“And…I do love you, you’re my only nephew.”
“Really?” The young boy replied, his eyes red but they had a gleam of happiness to them which made Leona smile.
Not wanting to be vulnerable with the adorable saucers of Cheka on him making him let out a tsk, he sighed “Yes, of course don’t press me for an answer too much.” Yet he couldn’t muster up more sass due to the soft arms wrapping around his shoulders, enveloping him into a hug.
As his green irises fell on the child clinging onto him, Leona wiped away a tear that had cascaded down his cheeks, not wanting to leave this evidence of emotion on him.
Yet, this happening had caused him to rethink.
Perhaps the whole point isn’t being prince, but to be a leader to those who need it, who need you the most.
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oceanlipgloss · 5 months
Text
THE WORLD OF NIGHTBRINGER
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Everything and everyone in Nightbringer is so foreign and different (yet the same). It almost feels as though MC and Solomon are locked in a cold and sad alternate world—not just time—altogether.
The distance found in relations, the unfamiliarity, and the heavy emotions all invoke a sense of tragedy and alienation; the brothers' hardships, their pain and fears and loneliness, and their personalities that hold an apparent angelic purity and innocence that aren't yet marred by life in the underworld are things make it that much harder to keep the sadness at bay.
And how the brothers are still unaware of the seriousness and reality of the situation, and still think in a manner that gives them hope of seeing MC even after the latter leaves for the 'human world' (and encourage MC towards that objective) kills. Neither MC nor Solomon are able to tell them the truth, too.
Even though Solomon and everyone else is there, it sometimes feels like MC is alone in that world and time, kind of like one of Levi's games—except now Solomon and MC are the duet of protagonists while everyone else is an unaware NPC. Now, the brothers, whom no one other than MC was so close to, can only sense a bond that ties them to MC but have no memory of their future together whatsoever, which birthed distance in their relationships with MC. And how (specifically) Mammon, who always used to stay by MC's side—ready to defend no matter what—isn't really (and understandably) offering that support now, hits hard.
The fact that Solomon is the only one who actually belongs with MC due to coming from the same timeline is the lone lighthouse in the cold distance. That's why, in Nightbringer, Solomon is MC's compass; if he weren't there, MC would have clearly broken on the inside. I also imagine that it might have been easy to doubt memories of the future after so much grief and time alone, with no one to share the truth with; however, Solomon is living proof to MC that the future and everything that happened between MC, the brothers, and everyone else was indeed real and not a figment of imagination to be questioned, and he makes sure to turn that into a reminder.
Some of the main game's events were hard to deal with, but Nightbringer's story is a different case altogether; from the very beginning it easily makes one feel despaired, alone and alienated—the feeling resembles being trapped in a world in which every soul is a stranger, even when it isn't. It's like being chained to solitude. Everything was portrayed so well that it's heartbreaking and stressful to go through the story (and deal with the brothers in specific).
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maries-gallery · 9 months
Note
Rio being protective please :pleading_face:
OHMYGOD ANON *kicking feet and giggling uncontrollably* OF COURSE!
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wc: 2,5k
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Rio’s gaze follows you in the ballroom. Watching over you like he always does, standing beside Sariel yet wishing he could be by your side. 
Tonight Rhodolite’s palace is hosting a ball and receiving guests of honour. Nobles from the kingdom and other lands. All dressed in their best formal attire, men and women alike. High heels disappearing behind a flurry of floor length skirts, diamond rings and necklaces catching the chandelier’s golden light, and tailor made suits of all shapes and colours. 
A maze of wander for someone who has never attended such an event. Someone like you, who doesn’t come from nobility and whose only knowledge comes from recent lessons. 
And Rio does think he made a good job at preparing you for this. He knows you will handle this perfectly. He believes in you like no one else in this room. But he can’t help worry from tugging at his heart as he looks at you. 
A lonely bloom waiting to be picked as you stand and watch the other couples dance and chatter. 
And he wishes he could stroll up to you and offer you his hand to take, he wishes he could steal you away for a twirl around the room. Like you had done so many times in your bedroom late at night, practicing the steps over and over again under the Moon’s watchful gaze. Back then, it had just been the two of you. 
“You are really good at this, Rio!” You praise, admiration laced in your voice as you let him guide you, your feet sliding over the floor. And for a brief moment it feels like you are flying, one of his hands warm and steady on your waist. 
His heart swells in his chest, on the brink of flying out. He does not even remember where he learnt how to dance, and he does not dare rummage his mind to find out. But if only for your praises and the awe in your eyes, Rio is thankful. 
“Please don’t praise me any further. I might die on the spot.” His eyes avert to the side, cheeks flushed with happiness. And you chuckle, dismissing him as being dramatic. Like you always do. 
But if only you knew. If only you knew how he burns for you. How he aches for you to take him seriously and see that nothing he ever says to you is an exaggeration. For every time your eyes meet, every time your skin graces his, every time you praise him… 
It does feel like he is going to die. Die happy, his heart bursting in his chest to fall in confetis in your hands. And he does not mind. 
And right now as he gazes at you, he doesn’t understand how no man has approached you just yet. A part of him heaving a sigh of relief at the fact he won’t have to watch you dance with someone else. And another part of him, sad, sad at the idea your beauty could go by unnoticed. 
As no matter what, no matter how many women in attendance or how many people in the room, Rio’s eyes will always find you. And his heart will always drive him back to your side. Eyes for no one but you. 
For a moment he loses himself in admiring you, unaware of Sariel’s amused stare. 
You always look your best to him, no matter what you wear or how many hours of sleep you’ve had. No matter the time of day and no matter the place. Yet his heart still skips a beat at the sight of you all dolled up. Of course nothing beats your natural glow, but you look ravishing tonight. 
A hint of blush on your cheeks to highlight your inner beauty, a heart pendant he had clasped around your neck for you beforehand… And a white ball gown with golden accents he had chosen for you too, with a simple white corset and full skirts that pooled around your feet, light and flowy. Perfect to enhance your features. 
You look like an angel. His angel. 
And for a moment he wishes he could keep you to himself, give into his selfish desires and steal you away from this ball. The two of you would dance together on the balcony, under the stars and-
“Are you ever going to make a move, Mutt?” Sariel’s voice catches him off guard, lips parting in a silent gasp as he turns to meet his superior’s gaze. 
“I-! What are you talking about, Bossman?” Sariel’s eyes fall to your form, no words needed for Rio to understand. “My feelings have always been very clear!” 
“Are you sure of that?” Sariel continues, “Because our Belle here might have the purest heart of Rhodolite but she certainly lacks in awareness.” His lips curve in a teasing smile. And Rio’s spine tingles with ice at the sight. In his mind, no smile could be as scary and vicious as Sariel’s. 
And he wants to retort something, to say that Sariel is wrong. But a part of him knows you don’t see him. Or that you refuse to acknowledge his advances. 
“Well if you don’t make a move, this gentleman might just do it in your stead.” 
Rio’s blood turns to ice as his eyes fly back to you, an uncomfortable smile on your lips as you try to, he assumes, gently refuse a nobleman who asked for a dance with you. And Rio knows he should keep his place on the sideline but your discomfort is where he draws the line. The apparent anxiety in your fidgeting hands enough for every warning bell in his head to go off. 
He does not look back to meet Sariel’s crinkling eyes, swift steps carry him to your side, plastering on a cordial smile to greet the man beside you as his hand finds yours. His fingers laces with your own, a gesture he hopes will ease your nerves. 
His eyes meet the older man’s, a Lord from Rhodolite who apparently lacks proper etiquette. 
“Sorry, sir, but I am afraid this is my partner you are hitting on.” He interrupts, smile polite but eyes of ice. He doesn’t notice the shiver that runs down the man’s spine. Doesn't notice the way his own eyes darken with the shadows of a threat. 
He does not notice the way his jaw tenses as the man clears his throat, ready to say something stupid for sure. Rio won’t let him, this man has already bothered you enough as it is. Hearing his voice again would only make you feel worse. And he won’t have that. 
Your hands wrap around his arm, tugging on his sleeve to get his attention, “Rio, it’s really ok. I was looking for a dance partner anyways-” 
He turns to you, blue eyes sure and steady, “I’ve got this, don’t worry.” 
He knows you probably don’t want to cause a scene, and he understands. But he cannot possibly let this old man disrespect you and treat you like you are nothing but a pretty face to show off on the dancefloor. No, this scum has to learn his place, and that is far away from you. 
Still, even if his knuckles ache to collide with this man’s features, Rio’s last desire is to make you uncomfortable and cause you shame. He will have to deal with this pest calmly and diplomatically, and disregard the way his blood boils in his veins. 
He deserves death for treating you like this, I should-
No, I can’t do that. She wouldn’t be happy with this… She’d want me to smile and deal with this diplomatically. 
He should-
The nobleman clears his throat, disdain written all over his features as he sneers at Rio, Someone not used to being denied what he wants. And someone whose title gives the impression of being above everyone.
“I can’t remember seeing the young lady at anyone’s side tonight, though-”
“It is obvious she does not want to dance with you. If you insist I will have to notify the guards of your behaviour. That wouldn’t be good press for you, right, Lord Sinclair?” Rio warns, a smile with no hint of kindness adorning his lips. 
The man pauses, mouth agape like a fish out of water gasping for oxygen, no answer comes to him. He takes a step back, bowing in front of you, going out of his way to avoid Rio’s attentive gaze, “If you will excuse me miss, I have business to attend to.” 
Your eyes follow his form as he leaves and disappears in the maze of colours and moving limbs. The tension eases in your bones, the claws of anxiety and foreboding releasing you from their grasp. This had been close. And a shiver runs up your spine at the ghost remains of his hand around your wrist. 
A sigh of relief falls from your lips, your grasp on Rio’s arm tightening ever so slightly, enough for his heart to jump in his chest. 
“Sorry, Rio, I-” 
His finger presses against your lips, “No. I don’t want you to apologise. This is not your fault.” He says, the warmth of his touch a welcome source of comfort. A pang of guilt hitting him. “I’m sorry I didn’t stop him beforehand.” 
“It’s okay, he seemed harmless at first.” 
His hand falls to the small of your back as he guides you away from the dancefloor. Determined to get you out of this room and somewhere you can breathe without this pest anywhere near you. 
“Go get some fresh air, I will bring you something to drink.” He offers you a gentle smile, urging you in the balcony’s direction. And you smile back, some fresh air might indeed do you some good. 
Rio gazes after you as you leave, making his way to the refreshment table where he fetches your favourite. His eyes meet prince Leon’s, and the fourth prince does not need more to understand that you might need company at the moment. Leaving you alone wouldn’t be a good idea. 
He catches sight of Lord Sinclair at the back of the room, a frown creasing his brows as he watches the prince make his way to you, outside. And out of reach. Obviously, Rio’s previous warning hadn’t been enough. 
A shadow falls over Rio’s discernment, as he makes a B-line for Lord Sinclair. 
The man’s eyes meet his, a disgusting smile crossing his features, “Oh, and just where is the little lady-” 
Rio does not give him time to finish his sentence, leaning down to the man’s ear, letting the shadows in his mind spill from his tongue, “Don’t try to approach her again. Scum like you isn’t worthy of the ground she walks on.” 
The man’s features shift through an array of emotions, from fear to indignation to a smug challenging smile. “And what happens if I do? This young lady does not seem to be anyone’s spouse. I could just make her my own.” 
So this is what he’d had in mind this whole time? Disgusting. 
Rio’s lips curve in a frostbitten smile, one that sends a shiver down Lord Sinclair’s spine. 
“Well if you do, I might just have to get rid of you then.” His voice is sweet, laced with thorns and the promise of death. Words that fall from his tongue as easily as honey and pierce as effectively as needles. 
The man pauses, eyes wide as looks at Rio, searching for any hints of a joke. But nothing comes.  
He clears his throat, adjusting the lapels of his suit and dusting off imaginary dirt, “And are you worthy?” He asks, “What would she think if she saw this ugly side of you? Whatever’s hiding in that heart of yours, I can tell you she won’t like it.” 
Rio’s thoughts fumble in his mind, grasping around the man’s words. He knows this. He knows that you wouldn’t like this part of him, he doesn’t like it either. If you were to pry his mind open and gaze at all that goes on inside you’d probably scold him. 
Because Rio knows he is not worthy of you. Nowhere near as close as that. Something rotten lurks inside of him, something he has yet to apprehend and understand. The tendrils of pain and anger that come from the depths of his past to latch onto his heart every once in a while. Usually for you. 
Always for you. 
I won’t let something important to me be taken away from me again. Never again. 
But he tries. He tries to be worthy of your smile, of your kindness, of your love. Every day he goes on a new quest to discover new sides of him and become the man worthy of being at your side. To become the light in your life like you are in his. To become the reason you smile and laugh, the reason you believe in yourself and in what can be. 
And he knows that one day, he will be able to call himself good enough. 
“Yes. I am.” 
He does not give the man time to answer, not that he would have given any reply though, considering the surprise on his features. Either he thought Rio insane or incredibly self entitled. Either way, if it guaranteed he wouldn’t bother you anymore, Rio could deal with what this noble thought of him. 
So leaving the man behind, Rio makes his way back to you, to the only place he’d ever want to be. By your side. And he is glad to find you already chatting with Prince Leon, a genuine smile on your features. A small part of him wishes you’d smile like this with him too. Like you used to do. 
But since coming to the palace things have grown… Complicated. The two of you seemingly growing closer and more intimate, only for you to take several steps back and build walls between you. 
Still a selfish sliver of hope remains, that you will one day see him. That you will one day come to reciprocate his feelings and say the words he’s dreamed of hearing for years now. But until then he will just remain your friend. Your best friend Rio. 
“Sorry, there were a lot of people at the refreshment table!” 
And he misses the way your features freeze at the sound of his voice, the way heat runs to your cheeks as he comes to stand beside you and offers you your glass. 
And you pray he hasn't heard you. Because nothing good could come from this, from acknowledging your feelings and him knowing. 
Saying goodbye would be too hard after this. And you don’t think your heart can stand the pain, don’t think your smile can hold the distance if it comes to this. 
Your eyes meet, silence flows between the two of you. And no one says a word. 
I love you. 
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cabinofimagines · 2 years
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Communication is the key
Fella’s Fellow’s and Fellu’s, i fear that generally jealousy is kinda bad so this is in fact how to get over it 
Pairing: Poly!Solangelo x reader, Nico di Angelo x reader x Will Solace Request:  more poly nico x will x reader pls??? something with jealousy?? //  Can I request a poly!solangelo x reader, where the reader is a mortal and they are super protective of them? Thank you so much, your writing is amazing!! Word count: 3.2k (oops) Warnings: jealousy, hurt/comfort
-Asnyox
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A sigh escaped your lips when you noticed that your wristwatch was probably broken. You guessed it was the battery, however it had been holding up so well after Nico helped you fix it last time it stopped working. Hence, why you were looking for your boyfriend to help you. Admittedly, you were also looking for both of them as you hadn’t seen them properly in about a week and you missed them. You spotted your significant others holding hands and seemingly in their own world, as your heart clenched with longing to be between them again. As you looked at the wristwatch in your hands, you noticed they had been shaking and you took a deep breath - hoping to not have an emotional breakdown from yearning for some affection. 
You approached your lovers slowly, and as you got there they barely seemed to pay you any mind. “Hey!” you smiled, and after a second both your boyfriends looked at you, smiling back. “Hey! What’s up?” Will asked and you noticed your eyes drifting down towards their hands. Priorities, (Y/n), hand holding is fun but you are on a mission. “Eh, could you guys maybe help me for a second? I think my wristwatch is broken and-” Will sucked some air through his teeth, you already felt the let down coming. “Sorry, Nico and I were just going to go to the lake.” Nico nodded along, but he noticed your dejected face. “You can join us though, if you want?” he shrugged, “I can help you fix it tomorrow?” for some reason you suddenly felt tired, as the disappointment took place in your mind. Your brain was still on the mission of fixing the wristwatch- and although you badly wanted to spend time with your boyfriends you shook your head. 
 “Uh, I will just ask Leo or something for help,” you tried to genuinely smile, but you felt it was forced for yourself, “Have fun at the lake!” you turned around, heading towards the Hephaestus cabin. 
As you left, your boyfriends watched your disappearing form. “Do you think they’re alright? They looked pretty sad.” Will asked, squeezing his boyfriend's hand. Nico quickly glanced at Will. “They did really like that wristwatch, even if it keeps breaking,” Nico’s eyes fell to the ground for a second, “might be why they’re sad?” he offered and Will nodded, both unaware of your inner turmoil. 
───────────
 You had found Leo, after asking his siblings, in Bunker Nine. You could’ve asked any Hephaestus kid for help, but you wanted to talk to a friend right about now, still feeling dejected by the rejection of your boyfriends. Leo had shot you one look after you asked to fix your wristwatch, after which he took it from your hands, put it down beside him, and looked back into your eyes. 
“Now tell me what else is wrong?” Leo rarely got serious, but he had sensed you were sad and this was his top priority now. You shook your head and looked away, unable to lie to your friend while looking him in the eye. “Nothing, Leo.” Leo tilted his head as he cupped your cheek to make you look him in the eye. “Try again, (Y/n).” You couldn’t deny him as you looked in his eyes and your body sagged. “I miss my boyfriends,” you felt the emotions flow in as you voiced your thoughts, “I miss them, and I asked them for help because I just want to spend some time with them but every time in the past week I have just been denied- or too busy or they were busy and-” You took a deep breath, trying to suppress your tears, “and it makes me think that maybe I should try something else. I know they love me, but if they don’t have time for me or- or don’t need me as I need them?” You focused your gaze back onto Leo, who seemed to be thinking, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, unmoving. Leo quickly shook his head. 
“Don’t be sorry, these are all valid feelings, and honestly,” Leo let go of your face as he sat up, “I think your boyfriends should get a taste of their own medicine.” Leo saw the doubt in your eyes and smiled at you reassuringly, “Let me take care of you, this once, okay (Y/n)?” 
And thus Leo’s plan was born- he had decided that instead of letting you focus on your lovers, Leo would distract you every minute of the day until you felt better and no longer needed to depend on your boyfriends for affection. This did not go unnoticed by said boyfriends- because it included Leo whipping you away every time you started a conversation with them. This part of the plan Leo hadn’t told you, but he wanted to make your boyfriends pay for getting you this upset. Your boyfriends however did not like this new development, but as the week progressed there was little they could do except rant towards one another. They decided though, that at the coming movie night at the Big House they would steal you away, and not let go of you for a week. 
 ───────────
You were excited for the movie night. In the past week Leo had made sure that you were distracted and cheered up after missing your boyfriends for so long. He also taught you how to fix your wristwatch, and you were happy it was working again. You had just sat down in your circle of friends, as Leo immediately climbed on top of you. 
“Leo, what the actual fuck,” you asked your friend nicely as he shrugged and leaned against you, forcing you to put your full weight against the cushions behind you. 
“I was just feeling like cuddles.” he stated and he shifted his weight, getting comfortable on your lap, “and you own me, for yesterday.” 
You sighed as you put your arms around his waist, making yourself more comfortable holding him. 
“And the payment has to be now?” you asked the Latino sitting on your lap. 
“No, but it’s also payback to your boyfriends.” you could hear the smile in his voice, “because you were not happy that they left you to fix your wristwatch by yourself.” 
“Am I not the one who should make them pay though?” you asked and Leo laughed. 
“Oh you are making them pay.” 
As you continued the conversation you were holding with Leo, him leaning more and more into you as you talked, you didn’t really notice your boyfriends walking in. They had wanted to spend some time close to you, for real this time, and as their gazes fell on your position - or rather, Leo’s position on top of you, they quickly glanced at each other. “Are you seeing this?” Will exclaimed not so loudly at Nico, as Nico tightened his grip on Will’s hand. Nico was not used to this feeling- but he felt a gnarly anger inside him, and as Will saw Nico’s angry expression he panicked. Will quickly grabbed his lover’s face and pressed a kiss on his lips, leaving Nico bewildered and angry, but at least no longer in danger of summoning skeletons. 
“Nico, my sunshine,” Will looked at his boyfriend's lips, and then at his eyes, “I need you to calm down a little.” Nico took a deep breath, but his heart wouldn’t stop beating and as your laughter mixed with Leo’s rang through the room he felt an angry chill go up his spine. What was Leo doing on your lap? Why can’t Nico remember your smile now? Why, why, why-
“Nico!” Will loudly scolded him, which silenced the room. You slightly pushed Leo out of the way to see your boyfriends, but as you did so you felt a restraint on your ankles, and as you looked at them you saw skeletal hands wrapped around them. You gasped as you loosened yourself, quickly removing Leo from your lap and standing up. As you came closer Nico looked at you, scared, as he turned away and walked out. You reached Will before he could follow and tried to grab his hand, only for him to move it away and glare at you. 
“What happened?” you asked, seeking for an answer in your lover’s eyes. But they only held anger as you shrunk under his gaze. 
“Don’t bother.” Will snarled, as he felt angry at himself for letting Nico get like this - angry at you for being the cause of this. You stepped back at the heat of his glare, before trying to step past him, but Will stopped you. 
“I just want to help-” you try to move, but Will pushes you back, making you stumble. 
“You have done enough, (Y/n). I don’t think Nico needs you right now.” Will turns around and walks away as you feel your heart shatter. Feeling the tension in the room behind you, you slightly turn to face them, looking to the ground. 
“I, uh-” you feel yourself choke a little as your heart beats harder, “I’m just going to bed, sorry.” 
───────────
 Will sighed as he woke up, his sleepy bless almost immediately interrupted by the reminder of last night. He pressed a kiss on the top of Nico’s head, as he stroked his boyfriend's hair. He felt a gnawing feeling when he thought back at the night before, seeing your downstruck face in front of him before he walked away. He had just been so angry at everything- but he hated that he left it at that. Unconsciously he tightened his grip on his boyfriend, awakening the son of Hades.  
“Will…?” he heard his boyfriend mumble softly, and as he let go he was faced with a sleepy face. 
“Hey sunshine, how are you feeling?” Will asked, softly smiling as he stroked Nico’s hair. Nico grunted in response, nuzzling his face into Will’s shoulder. 
“Where’s (Y/n)?” Nico whispered as he pressed his face further into Will, “Didn’t they follow us?” Will stilled his movements as he closed his eyes. 
“I,” he hesitated, but he knew that he had to face the music today anyways, “I told them to leave us alone,” Will pressed himself closer to Nico, a feeling of guilt settling in his stomach. 
“Angry too, huh.” Nico sighed, feeling his heart clench at the thought of you being gone, “We should talk it out.” he whispered and he felt Will nod. 
They arrived at the dining pavilion holding hands, and as they looked around for you, Leo approached them. The latino was nervous, but he knew that he had to clarify - or make things right for your sake. Sure, Leo was aware that he had been pushing your boyfriends to try to get them to spend more time with you, but this backfired harshly and he felt guilty about being the reason for tension in your relationship. 
Nico turned and glared at him, and Leo rather wanted to run than to move forward, but he took a deep breath as he stepped closer. 
“What do you want, Valdez?” Nico had to remind himself to breathe, and that he was there to make it up to you not to kill Leo for being too close with you. 
“I want to,” Leo gulped, “... apologize for yesterday.” he paused and his shoulders sagged, “and the past week? I think… I can explain.” Will notioned for him to go on, still hoping to catch a glimpse of you in the pavilion. 
“Okay so, it started when you guys wouldn’t help (Y/n) fix their wristwatch.” after Leo saw recognition pass over their faces he continued, “they mentioned feeling a bit left out? and upset because they hadn’t gotten proper time with either of you in a bit and I, uh,” Leo wringed his hands as he looked downwards, “I took it upon myself to try to cheer them up,” he looked up again, carefully meeting the gazes of your boyfriends, “and to try to keep them from you so you wouldn’t take their time for granted so much?” He quickly finished his sentence. As he was met with silence, Leo felt that he needed to explain more, a nervous stutter in his chest as he scrambled for words. 
“It’s just- you guys can be angry, okay, however your anger should be towards me not (Y/n), because they had nothing to do with this. However, you also need to realize that you have not been great boyfriends towards them- because I don’t know what you did but they were positively upset about it. And as (Y/n)’s friend it is my responsibility to make sure they get treated right. I was not letting you guys go on without getting paid back while I was cheering (Y/n) up.” Leo looked at both Nico and Will as they exchanged a glance. 
Will sighed, “We have fucked up- but we want to talk it out with (Y/n),” Will looked around the dining pavilion once more, “Do you have any clue where they are?” he hopefully looked at Leo, who seemed to be searching for something on their faces. 
“Are you still angry?” Leo carefully asked and both Nico and Will shook their heads, “Alright, come with me, I guess.” 
 ───────────
 When Leo woke you up this morning in bunker nine, he only had to look you in the eyes to know that you would not get breakfast right now. He could see the traces of last night’s tears, and as he made up his mind to fix this, you just turned to face the wall again. This was great, you only wanted to spend time with your boyfriends and now they will probably break up with you, just great. You felt tears swell up again as you thought about how to never see them at camp again after you were over. 
You had not been aware of how much time had passed, nor did you really care. Leo was probably back from breakfast, and the worst case scenario you could come up with was him trying to feed you something now. You were sure with all the sorrow in your chest, you would not be able to swallow a singular bite. 
“(Y/n)?” as you heard Nico’s voice you realized that there was an even worse scenario than Leo forcing you to have breakfast. Your eyes widened, as you curled more into yourself. Why were they here? You weren’t ready for this to end yet, “Leo let us in, could you please look at us?” Nico whispered and as much as you did not want to face them, you could not deny your boyfriend his request. As you sat up your body ached from laying on a couch for the whole night. 
Nico’s eyes widened when you turned around, as he saw how badly you were doing. He wouldn’t be surprised if you had not slept at all last night. He quietly moved to sit next to you, carefully grabbing your hand. You didn’t move away from his grip, but you refused to look up from the floor. Will mirrored Nico’s movements on the other side of you. 
“Where’s Leo?” your voice came out more softly than you had wanted it to, but you didn’t have the energy to care. “He has gone back to have breakfast, to give us some time alone,” Will said as he squeezed your hand, “We need to talk, I think.” you felt your throat close at those words, but you still nodded. Silence engulfed the three of you, either person afraid to break the fragile calmness that was surrounding you. 
“Yesterday,” Nico’s voice cut through the silence, “I was jealous of you being so close with Leo.” The statement sounded cold, but you noticed the care Nico took choosing every word, “It was not only from yesterday though, I hadn’t seen you for too long and-” his breath shuddered, as he looked at you. You only looked forward, unwilling to look at either of your lovers, “and I missed you, I thought of losing you and I am sorry for losing my cool.” his eyes searched the profile of your face, finding nothing but the remnants of pain from yesterday. 
You took a deep breath, and slowly opened your mouth, feeling as if you had not had a drink in days. “I had not seen you two for weeks properly and I missed you two a lot, and then-” old emotions bubbled up as you hiccupped, “I asked for help because I needed to spend time with you but you two are always together and sometimes it just feels like you don’t even miss me when I am not around and-” you removed your hands from theirs as you curled into yourself, “and if you guys don’t-” you didn’t want to say it, you didn’t “if you guys don’t, just tell me- I-” a hiccup disrupted your sentence as you felt a pair of hands on your back, and you were engulfed in a hug from both sides. Will slowly moved to press your head towards his chest. 
“We do  miss you- a lot, but when we’re together we always talk about having you there, so we don’t notice it,” Will whispered, “because when we are together, we imagine you with us and-” Will closed his eyes, “I am sorry, so sorry about yesterday- about pushing you- Nico was hurting and it got me angry, but not at you I promise.” he pressed a kiss on your head, as Nico laid his head on your shoulder, “I promise that I love you and I cannot see the world without you there, with us. I will never hurt you again, I will try at least. Can you forgive me?” Your breath shook as you smiled a little through your tears and nodded carefully.
As you slowly broke the hug, you noticed that both of your lovers had also been crying. 
“We’re a mess, huh,” you whispered and Will laughed silently. Nico just cupped your face, and pressed a kiss on your forehead, after which he pressed a kiss on Will’s hand. 
“We really should communicate more,” Will said, as he rubbed his thumb over Nico’s hand, “A relationship with two people is already hard enough, but we are with three so,” you licked your lips as you nodded in agreement. You held up your hand, with its pinkie out.  
“Let’s promise that from now on- instead of bottling things up we will try to communicate?” Nico smiled as he interlocked his pinkie with yours. Will joined in and as you shook pinkies a pact was born. 
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pastanest · 1 year
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if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to @rosieathena - thanks so much!! ♡
Spencer Reid x gender neutral!reader
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Keep Me Warm
A mischievous smile overtakes your features as you shuffle over to the couch, where your beautiful boyfriend sits, completely unaware of your presence as you hastily approach him, your hands balled in fists inside the blanket that you’ve wrapped around yourself. From your position, you can only see the back of his head and his shoulders as he focusses on his book, but just seeing the curls on his head is enough to make your heart swell. Coming up behind him, you loosely wrap your arms around his neck, and Spencer jumps slightly in surprise before chuckling and relaxing into your touch.
“Why’re you sneaking around?” Spencer asks, a light humorous tone in his voice as you lower your head to his shoulder and turn your face into his neck.
“Missed you.” The mumble passes your lips as you welcome the immediate relief of being this close to your soulmate.
“That’s very sweet, but that isnt a justifiable reason to sneak up on me, love.” Spencer replies playfully, placing his book down beside him on the couch in order to hold your hands.
“It’s cold, my muscles have all locked up and shutdown, so my movements are limited and quiet, which meant I had no reason but to come and find you to save my life before the cold left me completely immobile.” You explain, having already planned this excuse during your shuffle here.
Spencer laughs. “Why didnt you just get a hot water bottle?”
You sigh into his neck. “You’re so much better than a hot water bottle, can you keep me warm?”
Spencer’s voice shifts, a sudden softness lacing his next words. “Of course.”
You smile triumphantly and launch yourself over the back of the couch to sit next to him, curling up into his side and wrapping yourself around his arm, snuggling into his shoulder.
“You can carry on reading now, dont let me distract you.” A gentle hush adds itself to your voice as Spencer rubs your knee affectionately.
He shakes his head and removes his arm from your grasp.
“Come here.” Spencer smiles brightly as he lifts you onto his lap, his arms enveloping you as his face falls to the crook of your neck, both of you taking a deep breath as you drink in the beautiful feeling of intimacy shared only between you.
Your fingers absentmindedly play with the curls at the ends of his hair, and you’re reminded of just how much you adore his hair at this length. The blanket you brought with you is now holding you even closer to Spencer, separating an entirely different world for just your bodies to co-exist. You snuggle into each other as your legs straddle his waist, incomparable euphoria swarming your every sense. Wanting to see your lover’s face, you pull away from him slightly. Spencer immediately takes his hands away from the small of your back and lifts them to cup your face.
“You just singlehandedly proved that you are the most adorable being in existence.” He coos, a bright smile lighting up his face.
“Given that your hands are as close to me as my own hands are right now, I dont think I did this singlehanded.” You giggle, causing Spencer to laugh as his ears welcomed the most gorgeous sound he has ever been lucky enough to hear.
“Scientifically speaking, your hands will always be closer to you than my hands will be.” Spencer jokes, his usual smartass nature coming out to play.
You pout. “That’s a sad fact!”
Spencer shakes his head. “No it’s not, because your hands are constantly so close to you that majority of the time your brain doesnt acknowledge they’re there, but anytime my hands are close to you, you definitely seem to notice.” He teases.
At his words, you blush and look down at Spencer’s shirt, causing him to chuckle softly as he lifts your face with his hands.
“You are so unbelievably beautiful.” He whispers, seeming like he’s in a trance as he stares at you, before his face ventures forward, his lips yearning for yours as your eyes flutter closed in unison.
The kiss doesnt last very long, but you and Spencer live a small infinity of bliss in those few seconds, and as soon as it’s over you rest your head in the crook of his neck again.
“Will you read to me, Spence?” You ask quietly, feeling more at home in his arms than you have ever felt anywhere else.
“Anything for you.” Spencer answers as he brings your hand up to his lips and kisses your knuckles, before picking up the book he was reading and beginning to read it aloud to you. Nobody could make quantum physics sound as interesting as Doctor Spencer Reid.
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shitsolkat-theblog · 3 months
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ME TALKING ABOUT SOLKAT
I can talk about these bitches for HOURS! This is an analysis of Karkat and Sollux (also as individual characters) and their relationship.
Finally I translated and edited this shit!! Let me know if you find any grammar/spelling/etc errors, google translate is my only beta reader and it’s sad.
Before continuing, some notes:
This is around 6,4k long, I told you I can talk about them A LOT.
English is not my first language, be patient :( 
This is a PERSONAL analysis of the characters and the ship, you’re allowed to call me stupid dumbass (only if you then explain why logically after).
The text will be often “interrupted” by extra (important) notes! Read them pls.
Some of the things here written have been already “spoilered/discussed” by me in my other blogs as well (sollux’s nicknames), (solkat horniness), (solkat quadrants)
I will talk/mention other ships that aren’t Solkat!
Johndave
Johnrose (mention)
Johnvris (mention)
Johnkat
Arasol (an entire section dedicated)
Solfef
Gamkar (in the notes)
Other briefly mentioned ships
Please, note that this is a SOLKAT analysis, done by someone who will suck their dicks all day long, so if you see your ship (mostly with Sollux and Karkat) being “be littled” by me, I’m not doing it on purpose and I’m really trying to be nice while explaining why I prefer them over other ships (I like most of this ships too lol).
WARNING! This is mostly a sexuality analysis at first! It’s inevitable to talk about sexuality when talking about them.
Sollux and Karkat have supposedly been friends since forever. It's implied that they've known each other for a long time, but whether that's the case or not, it doesn't take away from the fact that they're definitely close friends — in every sense of the word. But to understand this better, we first need to understand the characters individually and how they manage to be best friends while fighting every five seconds — and then I'll delve into their relationship itself.
Starting from Karkat: he is an insecure, short-tempered boy who loves romantic stories and who often fantasizes about having a relationship. However, the most important thing to keep in mind about Karkat is that he is practically a teenager (puberty can develop from 10-11 to 14 years old, and he is 13) and as such he has the so-called HORMONE SHOOT in his body.
Karkat is proposed as the complete opposite of John — already just the example of their Aspects: Blood and Breath, which are opposite in the wheel of Aspects — and therefore the way in which they both approach adolescence or, even more specifically, sexuality.
John is almost the stereotype of the innocent child: practically always unaware of what is around him, or somewhat careless, remaining as a pillar of purity and lightness — highlighted by his Class Aspect: Heir of the Breath, which makes him the most childish, light and free of all others. All this also applies to sexuality. His first approach is his non-flirts with Dave(1), which are clearly not serious and very superficial; making more jokes about how much "they're gay and they love each other", but in a very clearly platonic and casual way. On top of that, before meeting Karkat, John never really seems to think about things more impure than just pure romance which he also demonstrates to Rose and, to a small extent, Jade, similar to how a child would bring home a girlfriend than how a pre/adolescent thinks of a person to whom they are sexually/romantically attracted. One might comment that he behaves this way because he is not really romantically attracted to his friends, but one sees him behaving the same way with Vriska, with whom he is explicitly in love — the only difference is that he becomes a simp for her.
In the end John is practically "forced" to think about his sexuality — in a less innocent way, I mean — after his constant texts with Karkat, who is not innocent by any means.
1: John and Dave’s relationships contrasts with Karkat and Sollux’s one - important for later
Finally, after talking about John, let's talk about his opposite, Karkat. What makes him recognizable to kids/teenagers who read Homestuck is also his approach to puberty, which isn't as innocent and carefree as John's, but more chaotic and horny, like that of normal people (ironic that he's not even human).
It's not that it's immediately clear that Karkat speaks more with his dick than with his mouth, but he certainly mentions dicks very often in his monologues, always in a way that doesn't appear Horny™ but actually is quite Horny.
Speaking of John, Karkat shamelessly flirts with him AND his sister. John doesn't understand it at first for the simple fact that Karkat was attempting to pitch flirt with him, a concept that isn't really present in human society, but once he recognized the patterns, he immediately told Karkat that he isn’t gay and Karkat panicked, trying to erase everything he said before.
It's not that he flirts on purpose, his sexuality is intrinsic to everything he does and says — like a normal teenager — and so it's reflected in his dialogue whether he does it on purpose or not — and it doesn't help that he's so devoid of shame.
Now, Karkat is HORNY even on a fetish level, in fact he is one of the characters who shows his sexuality the most (along with Damara, Cronus, all those horny-bitches), to the point that it is literally no longer a secret. It is therefore not strange that he has a kink for exhibitionism, perhaps another factor that contributes to his openly, even unconsciously, flirting. Perhaps his is not even a real fetish, but rather an absence of social education, given by his physical isolation from the rest of the world — to protect himself and not let others discover the color of his blood. In the sense: it is possible that Karkat, famous for reading "romantic comedies" without shame, is not really aware of social norms and therefore has never been taught to Keep It in His Pants™, living his sexuality like hell, even at the expense of important situations — like warning John about the future AND NOT FLIRTING WITH HIM. Those who don't help are the people he talks to the most, first of all his best friend: Sollux Captor.
But before talking about Sollux, a small mention about Karkat: it's true that Karkat always seems to hit on different people, a bit at random, but in reality there is a very specific pattern. He doesn't hit on everyone, much more with those who piss him off at a level higher than simple "annoyance"(2),(3). He is always irritated and takes it out on everyone, yes, but there are those who insist and persevere with him specifically — directly (Terezi, Sollux, partly Jade) or indirectly (John and Gamzee) —, which leads him to the end, until you give him a blow and make him fall in love. Contradictory, I realize, but Karkat's entire fucked up sexuality must be taken into account; which we discussed earlier.
2: This is why ships like Kanaya x Karkat, Nepeta x Karkat or Meenah x Karkat cannot work in my opinions. There is no anger, therefore there is no passion. Except for Nepeta's case, there isn't even any trouble between Karkat, Kanaya and Meenah. They are not couples destined to last (in my opinion!!!)
3: His anger could be a true transposition of his passion. Not in the sense that he gets angry because he loves, but he loves because he gets angry.
And in any case NONE OF THIS necessarily has to do with the pitch quadrant.
Now we can move on to Sollux!
As with Karkat and John, Sollux also has a "human counterpart". Not all trolls have this counterpart, obviously, but since John has a best friend, a best bro, then Karkat has it too. For John, Dave is his best friend with whom he talks all the time, for Karkat it is Sollux, only that Sollux IS NOT "the opposite of Dave", but rather "an alternative Dave".
As highlighted by the introduction of the two (Dave) (Sollux 1) (Sollux 2), both have many parallels between them. Both are the "cool guys" of their group, but Sollux is more of a "cool-wanna-be" at the very beginning of the story — then immediately taking the role just a few pages later, because Hussie and Coherence Of The Characters never married. In fact, the only opposite they demonstrate is the management of emotions: Dave is monotone, almost cold, but he talks a lot, almost too much; Sollux is emotional, extremely sensitive (to quote Karkat and Terezi), but of few words. And these are the only substantial differences that lead the two characters into two completely opposite paths; starting first of all from the relationship with "their leader" — because both are their "right-hand men".
I have already spoken extensively about John and Dave, and their very pure and saccharine homoromantic messages and comments, albeit platonic ironically disguised as "romantic"; what's missing is the homoerotic flirtation poorly disguised as "platonic jokes" between Sollux and Karkat, but first I should explain Sollux in general a little.
Sollux, unlike Karkat and what it might seem, is not particularly horny, nor does he openly display his sexuality except when talking to Karkat; rather showing his weak and sensitive side, less grumpy and volatile, with those few with whom he interacts with more than a few messages - as with Aradia, for whom he has an absolute weakness, and Feferi, who caught him in a vulnerable state after the death of Aradia (I specify that he also shows it to Karkat, except that there is also the dick involved with him). Rather, it's The Hoes™ who rally around Sollux — giving him the title of "guy who fucked literally every character in the comic."
However, we must ask ourselves, who is Sollux talking to? Because despite his being a "Double Dreamer" — therefore finding himself on both Prospit and Derse —, in fact he speaks openly and exposes himself only to a very small group of people(4): only two, in reality: Aradia and Karkat, and Feferi if you really want to be generous.
4: It is no coincidence that he is reincarnated in his Dream Self of DERSE, while his Dream Self of PROSPIT is left to die; both after the destruction of the planet (he becomes a ghost), and with Lord English (in which he finally dies).
The peculiarity of Sollux is that he gives a nickname to everyone, and this nickname is made up of two letters of the person's name. However, this actually seems to be more of a fanonical rather than canonical conception, as the only nicknames that Sollux uses are (and are for):
AA, Aradia
KK, Karkat
TZ, Terezi
Priince, Eridan (to make fun of him) 
FF, Feferi
For the rest of the people, either repeat the abbreviation of their chathandles (i.e. Nepeta, AC) or use their full names. Therefore, canonically speaking, Sollux only uses specific nicknames with those he is emotionally close to; with the rest either use their real names or use a nickname that these people have given themselves; and he does it with Terezi too. Yes, Sollux calls her “TZ”, but he also calls her “GC”, the chathandle abbreviation of Terezi, who he is friends with casually, without speaking much to each other on the basis. You might think that this “no nicknames - chathandle as 'nickname' - personal nickname” thing is not very significant because of Aradia, whose abbreviated chathandle is “AA”, exactly as Sollux calls her; therefore the “nickname hierarchy” simply does not exist.
And that is COMPLETELY wrong. Her name is Aradia, she already has a double A in her original name; the fact that her chathandle is also AA, making her nickname a quadruple — or double double — A.
Basically, what I mean is that Sollux has a sort of “hierarchy of importance” based solely on the amount of doubles in people's names. Demonstration:
Aradia, AA (nickname), AA (chathandle) - double double A - Sollux choose her and not Karkat (I will talk better about it later);
Karkat, KK (nickname), CG (chathandle) - doppia K - flirts a lot with each others, are close friends in general;
Feferi, FF (soprannome), CC (chathandle) - double F and double C, but separated(5).
Terezi, TZ (soprannome), GC (chathandle) - no doubles, she’s a friend;
Everyone else.
5: I'm not sure why he’s more attached to Karkat and not Feferi, rationally speaking, but it could be for a simple reason of time. That is, if he had had more time with Feferi, maybe she would have been “more important” than Karkat. Which I don't really believe much in, since 1. they were already friends, they could have been "be close" from the start, 2. I think that Sollux only used Feferi as comfort after Aradia's death/radical change; so just calling her "important in her life" is a bit of an exaggeration, but she's certainly more important than most of Sollux’s friends.
So why, in my very humble opinion, are Sollux and Karkat better than Sollux and Aradia? Simple: because the other person is also important; a relationship has at least two people, not one.
Aradia, at least in death, seems to care a lot about Sollux.
AA: s0llux i actually w0uld like it if you were happy
TA: ok. thank you for 2ayiing 2o.
AA: y0u seem sad and angry all the time
AA: what d0es anger feel like
AA: i f0rg0t
TA: have you ever been angry?
TA: ii dont remember you gettiing angry about anythiing.
AA: maybe i never was
AA: i feel like i was th0ugh
AA: 0nce
TA: why dont you a2k karkat, he2 way angriier than me.
TA: for that matter why dont you get on HII2 ca2e about iit iin2tead of MIINE.
[extract page 2085]
(Notice how Sollux cites (unnecessarily) Karkat even in this conversation with Aradia :3) 
SOLLUX: aradia, s0rry, i can't be a part 0f this anym0re, it's just making me feel dirty.
ARADIA: i understand sollux
SOLLUX: let's catch up again later, h0pefully when this is all 0ver.
ARADIA: yeah :D
[extract page 6045]
This might seem like nothing, and I’m really going to start talking at a personal level here: I hate how cold and distant Aradia feels when interacting with Sollux on later acts.
It might seem like a cute/good thing: Aradia just letting Sollux go to do what he wishes to and all, but I personally didn't interpret it as such.
Sollux openly hates fucking SGURB/SBURB, he wants nothing to do with this game, like at all; that’s one of the reasons he leaves with Aradia in the first place (again, I’ll talk about it better later on). Though, after leaving the meteor, the next time we see Sollux he is, in some way, again involved with the game; all because Aradia is curious and wants to see how it will all end. I think it’s egotistical to put it at least. I’m not saying Aradia should have putted her wantings away for Fucking Sollux (no offense Sol), though she knows that Sollux doesn’t want anything to do with the game and that, now that he is blind, he is very dependent on other people — in fact, if it wasn’t for Feferi and Nepeta, Sollux would have never be able to leave Vriska’s ship.
Although it is implied that Sollux never complained about his involvement with all of that until the very end, when he decides to leave.
I think arasol can still work very well as friends, or, if I really want to stretch it, matesprits; but with all those communication problems, it’s very much impossible for me to see them as moirails, like other people most likely prefer — unless it’s a toxic moirallegiance, that would suit them good.  
Also, I won’t talk about Homestuck: Beyond Canon, because…
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ARADIA: he is probably ok
DAVEBOT: so youre telling me you dont even feel a little bad that you ditched him to be a weird death acolyte
ARADIA: no i think he found my wiles both charming and irresistible
[extract HS:BC, page 283]
But, to be fair, HS:BC ruined everything, a lot, most characters and ships. It surely didn’t help to make me like Arasol more (like I liked it at the beginning), but whatever.
Basically, what I’m saying is that, personally, I prefer solkat over arasol because Karkat has emotional involvement in it:
SOLLUX: yeah, i think i'll hang behind here t0o, if that's 0k with you guys.
KARKAT: WAIT, WHAT?
KARKAT: NO COME ON, DON'T BE LIKE THAT
SOLLUX: be like what? a ghost??
SOLLUX: i d0n't think i belong with the living anym0re.
KARKAT: YOU'RE A *HALF* GHOST, ASSHOLE.
KARKAT: WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN? HOW ARE YOU EVEN TAKING THIS IDIOTIC "HALF DEATH" SERIOUSLY IF YOU JUST GO HOG WILD AS A FUCKING WHOLE-GHOST, AND SAY STUPID SHIT LIKE, BLAH BLAH, I BELONG IN THE AFTERLIFE NOW LIKE A DUMBASS.
SOLLUX: kk, SORRY.
SOLLUX: i'm just d0ne with this crap, this insane adventure bullshit, it's nothing pers0nal.
SOLLUX: i just want to spend time with aa and chill 0ut and catch up with some 0f our dead buddies, is that 0k?
KARKAT: WHATEVER, FINE.
[extract page 4356]
I’m not sure how Aradia pre-SGURB/pre-death behaved with Sollux, most likely she was very close (emotionally speaking) to Sollux, so much that their relationship is later on described as “ambiguous”, and Ghost Aradia, as I said, shows it! Though I can’t get over the present, which is not great for them… Also (this is VERY personal) I find them more boring than solkat, too fluffy for me, sorry not sorry.
Anyhow, what's different with Karkat, then? Since I'm talking about him so much.
First of all: the "hatred" they throw at each other is non-serious and mutual. This means that if Karkat offends Sollux, Sollux offends Karkat and they don't take it personally, it's simply how they communicate (and flirt).
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[extract page 3318 (not working lol)]
It’s simply nothing personal.
Also, if for whatever reason, they are not in the mood for that shit:
SOLLUX: what diid you want me two do get down on the floor and kii22 your faiinted corp2e on the lii2p two wake you up on a nonexii2tent pro2piit?
KARKAT: LET'S NOT DO THIS, OK MAN? JUST THIS ONCE. I DON'T HAVE THE ENERGY.
SOLLUX: yeah ok fiine.
[extract page 2792]
(after this dialogue Sollux simply answers Karkat's questions, without annoying him)
In this case Sollux is the one who respects Karkat's boundaries, but it would be stupid to say that it wouldn't be the same if the roles were reversed.
Okay, so that explains why Karkat is a better choice than Aradia (MY OPINION) and I've talked a little — a lot — about the two of them together, but more specifically, why should Sollux and Karkat be together? After all, Sollux abandoned Karkat (page link again).
This bullshit remark blows my mind every single time it's brought up, so I'm going to analyze Sollux even more before moving on to the two of them together, so as to explain why Sollux chose to leave at the end of Act5Act2.
Imagine that one day — perhaps since birth — you’ve been “gifted” with the ability to tell who is going to die, by hearing their begging, suffering voices screaming in your brain, filled with horrific images. Not only that, you even hear the voices of all the people that are going to die altogether because of one game(6); a game that, you know, will also kill you twice, but not after blinding you, and will also make all your friends kill each other for no apparent reason.
6: “But the end of Alternia would have arrived regardless of the game, the game was ‘a hope’ to save the planet”; not actually. It’s very explicit that, despite the event that led to Alternia’s end, the game was the number 1 influence for that event to happen. So it’s still SGURB’s fault, basically.
So, after dealing with the death of all your kind, yourself included, after dealing with all your friends being killed brutally by other of your friends, after becoming blind and dying right after; when you’re reunited with your now alive close friend/girlfriend(?), not hearing any voices screaming in pain, with the choice of staying in the game that caused all of this or leaving for the better. What would you do?
Maybe it’s a little stretch to say it, but I don’t actually think Sollux’s choice was between “Aradia or Karkat”, but rather between “staying in the game that ruined you and all you knew or escaping it”. Of course Sollux did it for Aradia too, but she was secondary, like leaving Karkat was simply a consequence of his choice and not the choice itself.
Now I can talk about the two of them in more detail (finally).
As I said before, Karkat and Sollux are "the negative" of John and Dave, and of their relationship: where John and Dave's affection is platonic, ironic and cute, that of Karkat and Sollux is romantic/sexual, absolutely serious and they suck at pretending that it isn't, and "violent" in a certain sense.
But having said all this, which quadrant would they end up in if they got engaged? The answer might seem obvious: they flirt pitch, they are kismesis; many chatlogues suggest this:
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[extract page 2027 - this page is all gay btw]
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[extract page 2086]
Why aren't they kismesis then? referring to each other exclusively as “best friends” and nothing more?
Here the issue of an unshown past comes into play, a bit like for Aradia and Sollux.
It's likely/implied that they've been best friends for a long time, maybe since birth (kind of), but definitely since they were little — as I also mentioned at the beginning. In fact, one of the main tropes they seem to follow is the “friends to lovers” trope, where in their friendship they tease each other, they “argue” but without repercussions, nor without really meaning it — again, things I explained before. I assume that what changed in their relationship after puberty hit is the intentions they have when they "argue" like this. They don't necessarily want to fuck every time they talk to each other, that's not what I'm saying, I'm saying that their closeness, Karkat's being Horny™, teenage hormones have contributed to making their interactions more awkward — to put it simplistically — over time, which then became a habit rather than an intention every single time.
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[extract page 2027]
SOLLUX: what diid you want me two do get down on the floor and kii22 your faiinted corp2e on the lii2p two wake you up on a nonexii2tent pro2piit?
KARKAT: LET'S NOT DO THIS, OK MAN? JUST THIS ONCE. I DON'T HAVE THE ENERGY.
SOLLUX: yeah ok fiine.
[extract 2792 (again)]
(Yes, I’ve already used this, but it explains well how it’s a habit for them).
The attraction is there, the desire is there, but what blocks them is embarrassment. I don't think I need to explain why they might feel reluctant to openly confess their feelings and abandon their long friendship for a pitch relationship; especially because like kismesis, these two suck… like, a lot.
:O but why do they suck like kismesis? Don't they have pitch feelings for each other?
Complicated to explain (I’ll try anyway).
I think that they are seriously convinced that they have pitched feelings (I think), but this is actually the result of a natural evolution of their previous relationship — in which they were already pushing and making fun of each other — combined with sexual desires, rather what a real pitch feelings. But I'll get back to this shortly; for now: why would Sollux and Karkat suck as kismesis?
In the comic we had some examples of kismessitude.
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[extracts pages 2459, 2381, 6797]
(These are the first ones that came to mind, I don't remember if there are others lol)
Leaving aside Eridan and Vriska — since their past together is only hinted at and not shown — the major examples are Vriska and Tavros and Terezi and Gamzee. What these two couples have in common is brutality: Vriska traumatizes Tavros again and again, first by making him paraplegic, then by dragging him around like a slave, then by showing him her bloody, nearly dead corpse and ordering him to kill her, etc. Gamzee beats Terezi to death until she dies. I'd say it's pretty clear.
In reality, even without giving examples one can still reach this conclusion: Alternia is a violent and cruel place, so much so that not only is one of their quadrants based on hatred and cruelty, but there is also a need for a another quadrant to get between the two to prevent them from killing each other.
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ROSE: Think, Lalonde. Think!
ROSE: What did Kanaya tell you about this quadrant?
ROSE: Does it really involve such gruesome fisticuffs?
ROSE: I...
ROSE: I can't remember!
ROSE: I was probably drunk during that particular lesson.
ROSE: What am I saying.
ROSE: I was drunk for all the lessons!
ROSE: Ugh, what a disgrace.
ROSE: I am the actual worst auspistice who ever lived.
ROSE: THE ACTUAL WORST!!!
[Extract page 6811]
Normal kismesis are extremely violent; if they don't kill themselves, they are always on the verge of doing so. There is no understanding, there is no goodness, there is certainly no THIS:
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You are relieved to find Sollux is not DEAD. He is merely KO'D.
You don't think you could handle it if this was ROUND TWO of watching your good bro get killed.
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carcinoGeneticist [CG] began trolling twinArmageddons [TA]
CG: BRO ARE YOU OK.
CG: HEY
CG: OH GOD
CG: WHAT HAVE I DONE.
CG: SOLLUX?
CG: PLEASE TELL ME THAT'S JUST HONEY.
CG: PLEASE JUST BE HONEY PLEASE JUST BE HONEY PLEASE JUST BE HONEY
CG: HAHA, OK, MAKE-BELIEVE TIME IS OVER!
CG: OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD
[extracts pages 3424, 3351, 2471-2, 2470]
And, if you want to add Pesterquest:
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[Horrible screen I stole on google images of Karkat’s Game Over route - yes, I’ve played Pesterquest lol]
NOTE: I’ll use this stuff later too.
Basically: just because they are prickly at each other and insult each other and flirt pitch, doesn't mean they would be good kismesis. Indeed, recontextualizing everything, between the two of them there is practically nothing of pitch apart from the insults and flirting. I'm not saying that an "abnormal kismessitudine" with them couldn't work, on the contrary, but, in my humble opinion, reaching this conclusion would simply be too reductive.
Since I showed them, let's talk about the pages above now!
It's undeniable — whether you want to see them as friends or lovers — that Karkat and Sollux care about each other.
And I know everyone's talking about Karkat carrying Sollux to safety, despite him being a burden while he runs for his life; and how Karkat doesn't want Sollux to abandon him at the end of Act5Act2, but I'd like to take a moment to analyze something I've never seen anyone mention, for some reason.
First, there's one assumption to have in mind before moving forward: characters — in general, any series — can lie. They don't always have to be honest and they don't always have to tell us when they're not; it's up to us to connect the dots. Having said that, HERE ARE THE POINTS I HAVE CONNECTED, you’re welcome :)
PCG: OK SO YOU'RE SAYING THIS FROM LIKE 5 HOURS IN THE FUTURE JUST TO GIVE ME A HARD TIME, NICE.
PCG: WELL THANKS FOR THE HELP, SO WHEN DO I BAN YOU, FUTURE BOY?
PTA: a few liine2 down, after ii pretend liike iim goiing two diie.
PTA: iim 2ure for a laugh on account of my iimmiinent banniing, FUCK how could you even do that two me.
PTA: 2o cold man.
PCG: ARE YOU REALLY STILL SORE AT ME FIVE HOURS LATER FOR RUNNING THAT VIRUS, GOD DAMN GET OVER IT.
PCG: IT WAS YOUR FUCKING VIRUS ANYWAY, YOU'RE TO BLAME.
PTA: eheh no bro we're cool about that, now future you ii2 connectiing wiith me 2o ii can enter the game.
PCG: OH YEAH?
PTA: yeah 2o thank2 for that fiive hour2 iin advance.
[extract page 2543]
Sollux will die immediately after.
No, I won't touch this dialogue for now; let's think first about Sollux, in general. Sollux knows when he will die and how, in a very generic and vague way, at least from what transpires from his dialogues:
TA: ii am goiing two diie.
TA: ii mean we all are.
TA: but e2peciially me.
TA: ii am goiing two get my a22 2erved two me twofold.
TA: double the 2erviice.
TA: liike two dude2 on doublebutler ii2land.
TA: gettiing worked over by a 2iiame2e twiin ma22eu2e.
TA: but before ii diie, iim goiing two go bliind liike you.
TA: iit ha2 two happen liike that.
TA: iim not 2ure why, but ii thiink iit2 liike...
TA: fulfiilliing 2ome requiirement for a true prophet of doom.
TA: iin order for the vii2iion2 two be riight, that ha2 two happen, and the uniiver2e wiill make 2ure iit wiill.
TA: iit2 kiind of liike how a prophet earn2 hii2 2triipe2, by beiing bliind, liike how an angel earn2 iit2 wiing2.
[extract page 2082]
Now, we can be idiotic children and believe that SOLLUX, who told Terezi precisely that he will die twice, that he will become blind before dying in one of these, and that becoming blind and dying is the key to returning to life as a sighted person. according to a strange prophecy he mentions, he doesn't know when the fuck he'll die. It could be, although it is extremely unlikely. It's true that he doesn't say anything about the circumstances in which he will die, but the omission does not imply unawareness, BUT LET'S PRETEND TO BELIEVE HIM WHILE HE SAYS IT!
In any case (later in the comic), the words Sollux uses in his last dialogue with Karkat before his death #1 are strange, too confident and stupidly false.
PTA: yeah 2o thank2 for that fiive hour2 iin advance.
PCG: THIS IS BS ISN'T IT.
PCG: TROLLING ME FROM THE FUTURE, HOW JUVENILE CAN YOU GET.
PTA: no man iit2 true, we are bulge bumpiing pupa pal2 agaiin.
PCG: OH FUCK THIS CONDESCENDING FUTURE KNOWITALL ACT, WE AREN'T BUMPING SHIT, YOU ARE SO BANNED.
PTA: nooooooo, not the ban, it buuuuuuurn2, oh god hahahaha.
In short, even Karkat doesn't believe they are sincere. I don't think the tone Sollux uses is condescending, but I'll talk more about it shortly later.
Why didn't Sollux tell Karkat right away that he was going to die? Simple answer: the prophecy had to be fulfilled. Sollux, who is a Doom player, accepts this and lets himself die because he knows that this will make the game progress.
And it's a good explanation, but it doesn't explain why he chose to say those things to Karkat, when there was absolutely no need to. You could justify it with "Sollux knows he's going to die because of Karkat so he's mad at him", and that might make sense initially, but then it becomes meaningless when you think about it again. Why act so genuinely, like he's having fun, instead of being pissed, being sarcastic, spiteful, or something like that?
THEORY, really, don't take my word for it, BUT I BELIEVE Sollux was trying to calm Karkat down. WEIRD THING I KNOW, but Sollux obviously knows Karkat better than anyone else, so Sollux knows he's going to die, he knows how Karkat will react to his death — because he knows Karkat is sensitive and, in general, cares about people — and he decides to make it funny; pretending to fake his death, so as to get himself blocked and at least delay the moment in which Karkat sees his corpse.
But maybe I'm just traveling in my mind. The other possible reason that comes to mind is that Sollux didn't really think about it; he knew he was going to die and contacted Karkat before doing so, making light of it. Here we could open a whole discussion on why Sollux chose Karkat, but I think the reason is "ironic" (just to see him get pissed off before dying, because it's funny).
Now we can go back to the previous scenes. Whether Sollux, in the dialogue discussed above, acted for ironic reasons or to reassure Karkat, it is equally undeniable that these two do give a damn about each other, but mainly it is Karkat who shows it:
Karkat crying (twice) over Sollux's deaths;
Karkat who feels guilty for his death;
Karkat, who is relieved that Sollux isn't dead, drags him to safety—despite the fact that a killer clown is following them and that Sollux greatly slows their escape.
These are some examples, the most famous - which is why I didn't dwell on them too much.
[PS: Another, very minor example of Sollux “proving to give a damn about Karkat” is this scene here:
TA: KK DO NOT RUN THAT CODE.
TA: hello??????????????
carcinoGeneticist's [CG'S] computer exploded.
TA: oh my god.
[extract page 2086], but I’ll talk better about it NOW:]
The point is (GOD this is getting too long) that they are too “soft” with each other to be kismesis, despite the pitch flirting and insults.
Sending a virus < a kismesis might do it == warning that person right after and trying to “save” them from it after a change of heart < NOT kismesis.
Checking that the other is still alive after he faints following a battle < the comic suggests that this is not normal behavior between kismesis, but it may still be within the norm == carrying his body with you despite risking getting yourself kill yourself < NOT kismesis.
Insulting < normal for two kismesis == stop immediately when the other tells you he's not in the mood < NOT kismesis.
It might be bad for a fan to see that, in the end, kismesis do not have a “moral code and mutual respect” in the original comic, contrary to what has been around in the fandom for ages. It may still be that all the examples of kismessitude we have had are wrong and do not reflect the true troll concept of "pitch relationship", but, ultimately, we have never had any examples other than the ultra-violent ones. And I don't see it as unlikely that, in a society like that of Alternia, the Empire would try to normalize so much violence by labeling it as "romantic".
And Karkat and Sollux are not violent with each other. They’re not kismesis, the end.
But it must be said that they are not even moirails. They are much more likely to become moirails than kismesis, but they are not. The reason is very simple: they suck at talking about their emotions. The problem lies precisely in them as people (/trolls), which does not allow them to form any pale relationship, even with other trolls.
Karkat was in a pale relationship with Gamzee. It lasted two pages(7). Sollux was in an ambiguous relationship with Aradia, which could be either just friendship, or matespritism or moirallegiance — although I’ve already explained why I think they would suck as moirails. 
7: In this specific case -- gamkar shippers please don’t kill me -- I believe that Karkat had never had any LASTING "pale feelings" for Gamzee. Karkat cares about everyone's well-being, and when Gamzee -- an out of control highblood -- started killing everyone, obviously BIOLOGY TROLL and Karkat gave his ass away to calm him down. It wasn't something that was meant to last regardless, unlike other pale relationships like that between Equius and Nepeta, who actively nurse their moirallegiance. (it was a One Night thing, in short).
They could, eventually, find other forms of communication and establish a healthy relationship, actually, but the immutable fact would remain that they feel sexual attraction to each other. The first rule of a pale relationship is DO NOT BE SEXUALLY ATTRACTED TO YOUR MOIRAIL — which many translate as “don't fuck your moirail,” but I have a lot to say about that(8). They could be "atypical moirails", but at this point they could also be "atypical kismesis", one is as good as the other and why should I choose one and not the other?
8: OK I'LL SAY IT! Comfort sex is a thing. Moirallegiance is based above all on comforting, helping and protecting the other; so in certain situations, needs, etc., I don't think two moirails would have too much trouble fucking.
Moving forward, the last quadrant is missing — I won’t analyze the ash one for the simple reason that I have already said that they cannot be kismesis, and if they are, they would be too little dangerous to "earn" an auspice — the flushed quadrant.
It might seem like a good compromise: they care about each other and feel sexual attraction. But you only need to see their relationship for five seconds to understand… it doesn't make sense. Too many insults, too many threats, too much teasing, even in this case we would fall into an "atypical matespritism".
Their relationship, in conclusion, hangs on too many sides to give a precise definition:
Too serious flirt to be friends;
Too soft to be kismesis;
Too much physical attraction to be moirails;
Too mean to be matesprits.
There is only one solution, in my mind, that makes sense for these two.
The only solution I personally find is a quadrant vacillation, or even a mix.
In moments of flirtation and insults they are kismesis; in vulnerable moments they are moirails. I find it difficult to see them “mixing the two together” to vacillate red, but it could happen (a lot). Among other things, if they filled two quadrants at the same time, it would further satisfy Sollux's fetish for number two, and we're all happy.
The other idea, that of mixing pitch and pale, makes sense in the context of “atypical moirallegiance/kismessitude” that I have talked about so far, but I find it a little less likely as a path.
[Or they could just be Friends with Benefits, idk, that's likely too].
AND ANYWAY I FINISHED TALKING ABOUT THEM THANK GOD!
(I can still go if yall want to tho xoxo).
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adoreblue · 1 year
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3:39am
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member  kim mingyu genre  angst, r wordcount  1.1k warnings  reader experiences periods, very light mention of sex notes  bf!mingyu, this is my first piece so i’m sorry if it’s not great, ummmm i don’t know what to say other than. this is like. really sad..??? i hope that is not a problem
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the bawling was becoming louder and you knew he was starting to get tired. again. it was 3:39 am, and you refused to shift your view beyond the sleeves of your hoodie, now drenched in tears. you heard ruffling nearby, temporarily making you wonder if he was going to leave for the night. but upon the wave of silence that followed, it was clear he was laying down in bed next door, likely dwelling on his thoughts.
your relationship with mingyu had not been a peaceful one necessarily. the pacing was quick: few dates, passion, sex, and before you knew it you were waking up to his giggling every morning, a routine splashed with joy and energy. he took you hiking every weekend, despite your resentment. “it’ll be good for you”, eyelashes fluttering, and he was right about that. you had a box of chocolates guaranteed when it was that time of the month and a call for every day he was abroad; a shoulder to cry on and a genuine friend. kim mingyu had been yours for 9 months and every second had felt worth it up to now.
it was strange because tonight felt like just one of many nights: he’d come home, you’d confront him after finding out, he’d apologise lightly and you’d become frustrated at his motionless reaction, your pain would feel so unmatched by his exterior you’d have a go at him, intensely, and you’d end up feeling ashamed and frail. after a certain amount of time, you’d rekindle the conversation and apologise to him for the inconvenience caused. he’d forgive you, and the night would end wrapped in his arms, feeling a sense of gratitude over the fact he hadn’t ditched you yet. this last hour you had been pondering over how real the sense of gratitude was - you had somehow equated his reasons for apologising to yours up to today. he would apologise because he had been seeing your ex-friend haneul, an individual known locally for his misconduct towards women and minorities, and you would apologise for your reaction to finding out he had, once again, lied to you about his evening plans. while it was never said to you out loud, you felt controlling, entitled, disruptive, whenever you called him out on it, and what had hurt you up to this point is the fact he never felt like denying it. he’d accept your apologies, nodding along, never questioning or denying your claims when you’d declare you were a “territorial bitch” in a haze of anger and shame. you knew it was your fault for being over-apologetic, for not believing you could stand up for yourself, for being convinced your overarching guilt was justified. but he never thought beyond your words or cared to challenge them.
nonetheless, he was not entirely responsible for the tremor either. he cared. he did care and you knew that. he had been clear about his beliefs being completely different from haneul’s, and you had no reason to think otherwise. it wasn’t entirely his choice either - being the son of one of the members of staff, they’d often go eat dinner together as a group, with haneul taking a liking for mingyu, and inviting him to outings often despite mingyu’s indifference towards him. what hurt you was not the meet-ups themselves but the secrecy - he had grown tired of your reactions when he was honest about seeing him, and now disguised it through lies. 
“minghao invited me for drinks”, he texted you once, unaware minghao had previously asked you for a brownie recipe to prepare for his uncle who was visiting him that night. “i’m with my mum” he said a different time, unaware haneul’s jarring voice was discernible over the phone.
being honest with yourself, it wasn’t even about haneul anymore. he had been a horrible person to friends of yours and you couldn’t understand why mingyu even tolerated his existence, but a lack of trust is what had you twisting the ring on your finger in agony this late at night. you felt stupid for believing in a relationship where the communication was a façade, where problems would get burried and looped. him lying so shamelessly about haneul had you panicking over anything else he could be hiding from you. and what scared you the most is he seemed over it as well, taking your reprimands less seriously than before since they had become a common practice.
you are in love with mingyu, but the relationship fractured and you couldn’t even lie to yourself about it. tonight, you refused to take his apology, accusing him of being a liar and implying he was seeing someone else romantically. you knew your words were extreme and a product of the heat of the moment, but felt frustrated the roots of your argument were also being dismissed. the turmoil between believing the guilt in your chest and standing up for yourself was suffocating you more than ever before, and in your head, this situation posed the dilemma of whether it was better to apologise profusely or exit the relationship.
you strolled towards the bedroom, grudgingly, and found mingyu lying down with his eyes half shut. his phone screen was facing the bedsheet but light was coming off of it. he had his body spread across the bed, which read as uninviting for you to join him. you couldn’t decipher his disguised expression, and he didn’t seem concerned to change that.
“i don’t know what to do about you,” you mutter, weary about how you’d phrase your frustration this time, “i don’t feel like we communicate well.”
his mhm was confusing, for a second you were under the impression he was trying to convince you he was too far in his sleep to have this conversation. 
“i wish it wasn’t like that,” he stated eventually, slightly more confident but with a trembling chin, “i wish we could understand each other better.” he sounds sad. with major doubts, you eventually crawl into bed with him and quickly find yourself in his embrace.
you feel petrified, ashamed, and incapable of escaping the notion that the relationship’s core is dishevelled.
you feel comforted, safe, and relieved by his willingness to hold you close.  
“we can try to figure this out,” he whispers as you doze off to sleep, “please let us figure it out”.
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clovermine13 · 10 months
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It's been awhile since an IF has managed to completely take over my brain in awhile so I decided to get a drawing of my @infamous-if MC Delilah Rose, commissioned from @inorheona, who always does a fantastic job.
OC Fun Facts below
Pansexual
100% has a praise kink, she wants to explore that more but the kind of sex she has doesn't usually leave much room for conversing.
Has been wildin' in the club since she broke up with Seven, like a lot, probably to much, maybe needs therapy. Definitely needs therapy
has a very particular Pen Preference and while she will use whatever is available, she might complain. Also, prefers to write in one of her many notebooks over her notes app.
She does drink, she does do drugs (Coke or Oxy depending on her mood) but tries to stay sober and makes sure her friends get home. Also, she sleeps around and would rather do that as sober as possible.
Has definitely written lyrics on the back of a one night stand. In sharpie, she was very sorry. She always dedicates that song to that poor women.
Would kill to play a rain show. She has a thing with rain storms.
Loves to read romance novels. especially fantasy ones, ESPECIALLY spicy ones. Its trash but she loves it.
Is she still actively in love with her ex, probably, is she planning on avoiding that with every fiber of her being, absolutely.
I like to think she is part of a VERY casual FWB situation with the lead singer of another band where they meet up when they are in the same place and send each other memes. For two rockstars, its pretty wholesome.
Would absolutely love to be in a committed relationship, monogamous or otherwise but is too afraid to even try.
Wants a big family, is looking forward to being an aunt, is convinced she is going to be a horrible mother, which isn't true but she doesn't think highly of herself, also she doesn't know how to balance her music and the relationships she has that aren't directly tied to her music and having a baby scares her. (She is very careful)
Is okay with the idea of being married but doesn't think it's necessary, catch her with her lover initial around her neck, or initials tattooed on her wrist.
Is super committed and very touchy in a relationship, really enjoys PDA but wants to keep as much of her relationship private as she can, just for them.
Will eventually write love songs but hasn't written one in a long time.
Is completely unaware of how she affects people, not is a mean way, she just doesn't think she is that important outside of her music. She is sweet, just sad and a bit oblivious. She is a sweetheart she just doesn't believe you really like her.
Says she is indifferent about her parents, that's kind of true, she still wishes they liked her (Head canon wise, I think her Dad does and wants to reconnect but at this point he doesn't know how and her Mom resents Delilah, she never wanted kids and D is aware of this. )
She is Chinese on her Dads side and Portuguese on her Moms. She is First Gen American and doesn't really know he extended family.
I think friends would call her D if nicknames ever become a thing.
Would love to have pets, maybe a bird or some bunnies. But she is literally never home.
Love language is a tie between Physical Touch/ Words of Affirmation
Loves pet names.
A pacifist unless she needs to fight then she can.
I like to think she has a lot of half baked talents like her parents put her in a ton of activities to keep her busy and supervised when she was young so she can sew, tie fancy knots, put up a tent, build a fire, has basic tap/ballet, karate and can raise goats and ride a horse.
Is an absolutely mid cook. She tries but generally hates cooking.
Has everyone's things in her apartment. Like she has a spare room and in that spare room is two dressers and a closet full of the bands stuff and they can sleep there whenever.
Has a top secret email that Fans can use to get in touch with her and there is a higher chance of getting a reply. Sometimes people use it as free therapy (She is not someone who should be giving advice) or different artistic pursuits, fanart, short stories. I think she has written songs based on short stories sent to her email, she gives them credit and dedicates those songs to the author. Has she received fanfic to this email.... Yes.
Is artistic and tends to work on other projects while idle. Right now she is crocheting a baby blanket.
Has so many belts.
Favourite Colour- Green
Favourite Show- Black Mirror
Favourite Movie- The Princess Bride.
I only create one MC per game. I am not a multiple MC girlie. So she will romance everyone but as an angsty, second chance romance girl, Seven is probably gonna be her main. (Although G is a close second.)
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