#he’s trying so hard he’s literally never known how to accept love. accepting love was always a weakness. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mandalhoerian · 1 year

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moth to a flame | leon kennedy x reader

pairing: leon kennedy x f!reader

summary: Break-ups are never easy. Thankfully, you've been preparing for yours for a long time. Leon doesn't let this revelation go for reasons you cannot fathom when he's the one who wants to leave.

word count: 9K

warnings: angst, smut, thigh riding, p in v, kinda body worship, switch leon, he subs for like a moment and goes this better not awaken anything in me

notes: i winged this please don't judge me. also, "plot"-wise, this is an extension of my leon love language post. header template can be found here. enjoy the filth

🌀 read on ao3!

📍 continue to the BAD ENDING!

📍 continue to the GOOD ENDING!

In hindsight, you’ve seen this coming. Your face barely moves at your on and off situationship of two years forcing out, “I think we should break this off.”

So faint and unsure it’s barely above a whisper.

He looks so uncomfortable hunching over, forearms resting on the countertop, breakfast untouched, as if trying to make himself smaller than you, it’s absurd considering the nerves of steel you envy him for, and sure, he’s adorably awkward sometimes for a man of his looks, but not like this. Never vulnerable like this.

The kitchen is gloomy despite the bright winter sun seeping through the windows, almost suffocating because of his uncharacteristically transparent malaise. Leon isn’t one to openly squirm, and in turn, it’s making you all the more nervous — nothing about this is fair when you were thinking you got all the practice needed from imaginary scenarios and possibilities on all the directions the eventual separation would go.

He can’t look at you, shaking his head nervously, choked by the silence. “Say something.”

How funny it is that he’s the most fit man you’ve ever known, could lift you with one arm without breaking a sweat— one bicep literally the size of your head, yet looks like he’d cry if someone touched him right now. It’s a hard to swallow, unreal pill that you’re the one doing this to Leon, making him weak like this.

You’ve never known you had that kind of power over him until now, how he says he wants to break up but would throw up if you actually say yes.

You shift in your seat, the wood of the chair suddenly digs sharply into your skin with how hyperaware your body is of all the surroundings to deviate your attention from Leon, folding your hands on your lap.

The answer is at the tip of your tongue, it was stashed away there months ago. Of course you’ll let him go.

What makes it easier for you is having consented to how absent and private he warned half the things involving him was going to be, or it’s that you knew from the start your time with him would be limited. You just don’t question it; completely skipping the first four stages of grief and jumping readily to acceptance.

The lamb knew it would be slaughtered by the nurturing, kind humans, and yet it still got attached to them; Homer straight up told the readers how the story would end right at the start of Iliad, yet the fall of Patroclus and the rage of Achilles burned the same, if not worse — you knew Leon would inevitably fall apart and run away one day, yet chose to cherish your limited time with him all the same.

It can’t be called a tragedy if you agreed to how it would end in the first place.

Leon Kennedy is ephemeral in his nature, daydream-present and lucid-absent in your life all at once. You thought of him as an outdoors cat, never really yours in the first place, randomly shows up whenever he wants to, reluctantly leaves out of nowhere — a flighty, mysterious companion who’s happy and eager to be there but withdrawn when poked and prodded.

You accept him as such, love him all the same.

You’re not sure if he loves you just as much.

Fondness and like is there, enough for him to have stuck around for this long, but you figure it’s because you’re safe and constant. You’re happy to have provided him with at least that because you’re not sure what he saw in you, to be honest.

What’s happening is painless enough to go through exactly because of this, you hadn’t let yourself get too attached to Leon knowing he isn’t into you as much as you are into him. Maybe you are deluding yourself, maybe you are numb and not as apathetic like you thought you are, but you’re convinced this is how it should go — how it’s meant to go. What’s the point when you’re aware your name won’t be at the top of his list?

The insecurity surely is a small part of the ‘Leon Kennedy Breakup First-Aid Package’ you’ve been cultivating over time in preparation to cushion your own fall when the time would naturally come, but it doesn’t cover the shape Leon is in that even when he’s the one breaking your heart, he looks like he’s shouldering the pain you’re going through on top of his.

This is why you can’t ever be mad at him. You wanted to be with him knowing the way he is, after all.

Leon is a mess despite trying not to show it, his messy straw-blond hair doesn’t shine like it usually does, he hasn’t conditioned it, the golden sheen to it wilted almost. His bloodshot, red rimmed eyes are dim in their blue, laser-focused on the black coffee mug he’s tightly gripping, the skin underneath his lower lashes spread out in faded pink-purple half-rings and it only ever happens when he hasn’t gotten enough sleep in more than a couple days’ time whenever he has to be away for an unprecedented amount of time, or gets buried too long in his paperwork. His thumbs are wiping at the place he puts his lips on and have a sip at the contents of it you’ve seen he fed some liquor to a few minutes prior. He’s awfully domestic in his black sweater and pants, not at all looking like he just asked for a breakup.

You take pity on him.

“I see. Alright.”

His head shoots up, eyes immediately finding yours, no longer blank. He doesn’t seem sure if he heard you right, expression disbelieving. “What?”

“How do you want to do this?” Mirroring Leon’s anxious movements, your own fingers trace the rim of your own teacup. “You could start gathering your things today, but if you want to call it a day, I don’t mind—”

“No—wait—what are you saying?”

“I’m saying okay, Leon.”

He winces at the name, gaze escaping from you again momentarily and he has to blink, the lack of your usual pet name for him must have hurt him, you presume. He has to swallow before talking. “This is it?”

You’re not sure if it’s directed at the end of your relationship or you letting him off easy. “I don’t understand. What else was I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know, I just—”

This isn’t being hopeful, but you ask anyway. “What did you want me to say?”

He sighs in return, tearing away his gaze and hiding it with a hand that wipes at his forehead.

Yeah, it isn’t your hopes that were crushed. You adamantly tell yourself it isn’t. He’s being nice as he always is, of course he’d question how agreeable you’re being, it’s not like his resolve is going to change. “I’m just being cooperative so we can—”

“Aren’t you angry with me?”

That was the problem?

“I’m not, Leon.”

“How can you not be?”

“Well, I…” It’s because you love him, but bringing this up would only make it harder. “I’m not sure. You’ve been that good to me along the way, I guess. I don’t resent you for anything.”

He has that subtle sarcastic look on his face you would take as mocking if you were a total stranger, but you know better. He’s being self-deprecating. You could read it. But you should, he’s thinking. You should resent me.

You don’t.

The thing with Leon is he’s too good to be true that his only flaw is being a literal ghost. A well-meaning ghost who’d send presents upon presents and work his ass off to make extra time for what he had to give up on every time your plans falls through with unexpected shit that came up from his mystery job at the White House he never talks about that has him battered and bruised each time he turns up after prolonged leaves.

Which is an oxymoron considering how attentive and absent he is at the same time. Sometimes you wondered if he’d fix his habit of being a clam about everything concerning himself after you guys were through, but imagining him becoming more open and changing for someone else hurt too much.

“Don’t you want to know why? I mean—god, why are you just taking it?”

“What do you mean taking it? You’re not doing this to hurt me, look at you, Leon, when have you last slept? It’s hard on you too.”

“That really doesn’t have to do with anything right now,” he dismisses. “How are you this unaffected? I’ll take it if it’s to get back at me…”

“It’s not.” You stand up, appetite lost. You want to wrap your food up and put it in the fridge to eat later, and this way, you don’t have to look at him while saying the sentences you have rehearsed for so long. “If you want to break up, I can’t force you to stay—or into anything you don’t want to. It’s not fair for either of us. You’ll be stuck with someone who you don’t want, and I’ll have to live with the knowledge I’m with someone who doesn’t want me.”

You find him staring at you when you’re done, your hand stays wrapped around the handle of the fridge door at how tortured he is. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shakes his head, blond strands framing his face gently swishing in the air. He does the angry eyebrow scrunch whenever he disagrees with you strongly on something you’ve said, but decides not to at the last minute, and you find yourself the tiniest bit disappointed at him not refusing he doesn’t want you. “You always— you always do this... Be angry. You have to be angry at me.”

You find refuge in the kitchen sink, washing your hands. “Stop it. I don’t want to fight, please.”

“So you are angry.”

“I’m not!” You slam the water shut a bit too forceful and you breathe for a second before turning to him. “I’m not. Angry. I’m sad, yeah. An understatement. Who wouldn’t be?”

He just says, “I’m sorry,” at that, and hates it’s the only thing he can manage to give you, it’s blatant in his face.

You take a seat at the chair directly next to him, you both need the intimacy of good communication at the moment. “But I had a lot of time to mourn, alright? It’s not that I’m taking it or being passive or whatever—”

“Mourn?”

His eyes search yours for a second, and the realization leaves him breathless, the insides of his brows raise up, making him look younger and more innocent. “You were expecting this.”

“Yeah, I mean.” Your lips press together, and you chew the insides before hopelessly shrugging, a small smile doing its best to put itself together. “Look at us. It was never going to work out in the long term. Not really. I consider two years a miracle, to be honest. I don’t know how we got this far.”

“All this time we were together.” Leon’s voice is thick, on the verge of shaking, you weren’t expecting him to take this so badly. His pupils devour all the blue from his eyes, he has never looked at you this hostile before all the hair on your arms rise up. “You were just thinking about breaking up? Have I only ever made you insecure?”

“Not all the time—it’s just—” You swallow. ““Why are you angry at me now? What did I do? You are the one breaking up with me.”

“And here you are okay with this. You’re telling me you didn’t think we’d ever work out when I—” He huffs. “I didn’t even notice a thing. You weren’t happy at all. Ever? You were uneasy all this time?”

“No, Leon, you’re not listening to me. What I expected was that you would leave one day, eventually. Because that’s how you are. That’s how your life is.” He leans back when he gets what you are alluding at, rubbing his face with a hand, refusing to look at you — but out of anger this time around. “I know you wouldn’t be able to stand being in limbo about not letting yourself go and wanting to at the same time. I know you felt bad about everything. I guess it’s just not the right time?”

You don’t say, right person and wrong time, it’s wishful thinking on your part—Leon probably doesn’t think that, someone else seems to take that crown in his heart, you know that all too well.

The muscles on his arm closest to you flexes, he must be thinking about taking your hand in his, so you remove them off the table and nestle them between your thighs. Any physical contact from him might lead to you crying in the end.

“I’m sorry I made you go through all that,” he laments. “Why didn’t you talk to me?”

Your head tilts sideways. “It wasn’t about me, Leon. Suppose I sat you down and complained you weren’t open with me, you were distant. Especially when you weren’t ready for the conversation. I’ll tell you what would have happened. Two weeks of radio silence.”

“Ah, c’mon…”

“It’s not something you haven’t done before. You said it was work, but… You know. I get it.”

Leon exhales from his nose and lowers his head, broad chest puffing up with rapid breaths, his neck is getting redder by the second. You’ve never taken him for someone with an explosive anger, but it looks like that could change any second.

“I wish you wouldn’t take this to heart, I’m not saying this to hurt you when I say I knew this was always going to happen.” You’re talking like you’re trying to soothe a tiger, and he especially looks to hate it. “You can’t possibly have expected me to ignore it. And it wasn’t going to come from me either, I’m happy to be with you either way, but—”

“That’s the problem.” He has his head between his hands, like that could possibly hide him away from the conversation. “I treat you like this and you still say that.”

You wish he wouldn’t be this hard on himself.

“I signed up for this.” He tilts his head at that, accusatory, and you get more agitated in return. “I know your circumstances. You can’t help being absent most of the time, I understand. I understand more than you think.” His forearms hit the counter loudly, he looks about to spit fire any second, but you don’t let it happen. “However. It’s no way to continue a relationship, I know that too. My perspective is that it shouldn’t be guilt that comes to your mind whenever you think of me. I wish things could be different. I wish I could be a priority to you—”

Leon’s face sours, and you stop talking when you see it.

You didn’t mean for the words to hurt him as they did, explanations becoming distraught. “Look, I like you, you know this. Possibly too much. More than I should. You have to understand that’s why I’m being this amicable with you right now. Break-ups don’t always have to end in fights, sometimes things just don’t work out, and that’s what’s happening right now, isn’t it?”

It doesn’t reach Leon. His gaze is faraway, defined jawline locked clenching and unclenching.

“If it makes you feel better, I was angry for a while.” His hand comes down from rubbing a circle in the middle of his brows, eyes shifting back to yours. “But it is what it is.”

“You’re not even gonna ask?” he says, defeated.

“Would you tell me anything different from what I know?”

He opens his mouth, but the only thing that comes out is a sigh, one of his legs shaking, and his head falls forward, curtains of dark blond hair covering your view of his face. For a moment, all you want is to slip your fingers into the silky strands and comb them back, take his heat away, the pads of your fingers on his smooth cheekbones, you know he’d melt into your touch straight away and his expression would lose weight of the strain he carries you can only imagine the root of most of the time, but you abstain.

He wouldn’t appreciate it on the brink of a break-up, you were about to become nothing but strangers.

That’s why it’s abrupt when he leans forward and captures your lips in an unfair, unfair kiss, the force of it makes his teeth clack against yours and you grimace, retreating to break it. His hand slips to the side of your neck to pull you back in, the drag of calluses and heat against the skin of your neck sends goosebumps all over your body, his thumb caresses your cheek in a loving way that hurts but his lips are frantic in their gentler search to open your mouth to his, and suddenly you can’t breathe from how much Leon keeps advancing.

Turning your face away to break the assertive, overwhelming liplock, you take in lungfuls of air as you look as away from him as you can, panicking at the way he presses his forehead to your temple and the way his nose nudges your burning cheek, he doesn’t budge when you attempt to push him off the second you realize you’re enjoying this. He’s built like a fucking tank. “Leon—”

“Say no if you don’t want it,” he breathes, right into your neck, the tickle is mixed with something dangerous that sears your skin along with the low rumble to his voice directly in your ear, and you have to stop yourself from squirming, a coil of incandescence binds its threads together in the depths of your stomach. “Say it and I’ll stop.” One muscular arm hooks around the back of your upper thigh and one around your waist, he quite literally snatches you off your chair and plops you down on his lap, each of your legs hang from the sides of his hips, and you yelp at how effortlessly Leon seems to arrange you to his liking.

He’s needlessly, uncharacteristically cruel. You would always want him. Leon knows this.

“You’re so—” Your breath hitches when his fingers bypass your shirt and sneak up the bare skin of your waist and his other arm readjusts you as he buries his forehead in your shoulder and you gaze at the top of his golden hair kissed by morning sunlight and take in the familiar scent of him and his shampoo. His body against yours leaves a festering sweet longing. “So unfair—you were just breaking up with me—”

He bites down at the meat of your clavicle and you draw in a short breath, the dig of his teeth sting, but he immediately soothes it with a lick and his tongue is hot, too hot. “Unfair?” he groans, you contain the shudder at the emotion he keeps at bay and at the path his blunt fingernails make above the clothing from your hips to the sides of your legs, he’s never been like this. “You already left me in your mind before this and I don’t even know exactly when.” The tip of his nose faintly traces the curve of where your neck meets the shoulder, the tickle is unbearable, aching, you wish he would have left marks instead. “You were always thinking of leaving— our time together didn’t matter to you. What do you think that makes me feel like?”

“That’s not—” You grip both of his biceps and feel the protruding veins and the flex of the muscle underneath the skin, intimidated as always by how both of your hands added together were too small to form a full hold around one. I work out a lot, was his excuse while you were first getting to know each other as acquaintances, and you’d thought how this man belonged with someone of his league. “You’re the one—”

“You dummy, I’m not leaving you because I want to.” Leon’s arms circle your waist and pulls your body flush against his in a crushing hug, his head finding home under your chin and against your chest. It’s innocent and you feel the helplessness, the desire to hold but not be seen, but you don’t know what to do in return, his words don’t quite register. “Why would I ever when I—“ He cuts himself off, breathing shaky as the rest of the sentence dies at his throat. “Jesus, I can’t believe this.”

You tentatively hold his shoulders, surprised at how taut they are. How winded he is like some wire. “I don’t understand.”

“You are just letting me leave like that. Like some business deal done and gone, you just…”

You can’t help the sound that escapes as he bites your earlobe. Why does he keep biting?

“Ow!—“ Leon starts sucking, the wet sounds and his breathing directly in your ear sending shivers down your spine, and you’ve had enough of his thought processes ending up being completed by his lips on your body.

He’s easily able to overpower you, but obeys when he feels you’re genuinely pushing him away, some strands of your hair get stuck on his face and the view of the detained obscenity of his expression —the half-closed eyes and the missing blue, the flush of his cheekbones, glistening of his pinked lips— sends a hot wave downstairs. “It’s you. You! You’re the one leaving, Leon, I don’t get it—“

Some clarity through the pinkish haze of want dawns back to him, and he gingerly combs the threads of hair away from your face, some of them behind your ear. “I don’t want to. That’s the thing. I thought it was clear as day.” Leon searches your eyes, looking down at the details of your face, your heart races as his stare gets stuck at your lips the longest, he isn’t even aware he’s doing it and you feel feverishly desired from his insatiable look, from the slow movement of his Adam’s apple. “But—“

“You can’t help it. Right?” Your thoughts are blurring together, and he’s a black hole pulling you in. “I understand—“

Leon kisses you again, and your stolen exhale turns into a pleased hum. “Stop saying that,” he whispers with inches between your lips, eyes closed, so close your breath is his.

“What do you want me to say?“

“Stay.” He takes your hand and brings it up, planting a singular kiss at the inside of your wrist, and then rests his cheek against your palm. You can only stare at the vulnerability he’s offering you on a silver platter, the tormenting softness is blinding. “Stay.”

Your heart soars. God, you’ve longed for him to give away that he wants to be with you all this time, the insecurity is a blanket you’ve hidden under, this is it, but he’s so torn and you don’t get his struggle, what he must be hiding for such a visceral reaction. He wants to, but he can’t, and you don’t know why, having accepted he wouldn’t tell you from the start anyway.

But you ask. You ask anyway. Hope is a flightless bird waiting for her wings to grow each day. “Will you?”

Something shifts, a delicate moment broken, and Leon draws back, his eyelashes flutter as if he’s shaking off some daydream — and then he’s upset, a pinch in his brow. “I’m sorry.” He shakes his head. “I can’t—“ You’re grabbed from the arms and scooted away from his lap, putting some distance between the two of you. Leon is physically pained, unable to meet your eyes. “I don’t know why I’m being like this.” He holds your hands between the two of you, and you get whiplash from the passion just mere seconds ago and the tenderness of this touch. “I can’t keep doing this to you. I don’t know why I’m this unreasonable, it’s so childish— Shit. I’m sorry, I’ll just—“

“No.” You cup his face in both hands and he looks like an abused puppy tasting kindness for the first time. “Stay for a bit.” Your heartstrings are tugged by the way Leon’s eyes are lit up. “I want to have you. One last time. Is that alright?”

A beat passes.

“Yeah,” he says, blanking out at first, but then repeats stronger, his fingers sink into the plush of your thighs as he licks his lips. “Yeah.” He turns his head and kisses your palm, somber. “You can have me however you want.”

Leon doesn’t look like he’s particularly looking forward to it. “You sure?”

“I’ll always want you, any day, any time,” he says, and you’re flabbergasted at the burden of his meaning. But you force yourself to look past it, look past the unguarded and unarmed honesty, choosing to interpret it in the language of lust.

“Not here, though.” You get up from his lap and he doesn’t stop you. “It’s kinda cramped.”

“We can make it work if you’re up for it,” he half-teases, one corner of his lips curling up, his eyes are humorless.

You snort. Easy for him to say. He’s fit, you aren’t, that’s why being on top can’t last half the time without his assistance. “You can. I certainly can’t.”

“You keep saying I can’t to me, knowing I take it as a personal challenge.” Leon’s touch moves up your forearm and in one swift move, he pulls you in between his legs. He leaves a kiss at the lower valley between your clothed breasts. “Maybe you’re doing it on purpose?”

You’re heating up right away. “I’m not—”

Leon pats his right leg, pulling up the sleeve of his shorts all the way up to the hipbone, exposing the well-endowed, firm thigh. “Sit here.”

“Your leg’s gonna get a cramp,” you say, but it’s hardly a complaint, your crotch has begun to contract at the thought of feeling the flawless skin slipping against your slick folds and how he would mold the tendons to fit just right for your pleasure. Expectation was pulling you tight right from the start where he had you hanging from his every word.

Leon’s almost offended. “It won’t.” But his encouragement is gentle. “Come on, sweet girl.” Hooking one arm between the two layers of the bands of your underwear and pants, he lets them snap back against your skin after he pulls considerably. “And you’re taking off all that.”

You let it go. Immediately. “Fuck, okay.”

It’s morning. You’re in the middle of the kitchen. And you’ve forgotten all of that, head lost in the beginnings of a dull throb between your legs. Your dignity would have been trampled on if you were too enthusiastic, so you try to take your time, and he asks, “How do you want to go about this?”

“Huh?”

His hands ride up your knee and inch up, his thumbs in the line of your inner thighs, and your first instinct is to press them together to alleviate the ache, but Leon’s forcing them apart. “You can have my tongue or fingers first. To help the friction.” You swallow when the nail of his thumb scratches the material of your panties and feels the slight dampness, and he’s watching your reactions very closely. “Or you could just sit down.”

You don’t have strength left in your knees anymore, head spinning with the way his darkened, narrowed gaze is simultaneously bearing down on and looking up at you, and Leon helps you settle your weight on his leg after sliding your underwear down your legs, the warmth of his palms on your naked hips alone is vexing enough and it’s embarrassing that he feels the particularly strong pulse of your sex.

He angles his leg up and you slide forward with the gathered moisture, arms catching onto his neck in surprise from the sudden jolt of pleasure. “Eager, are we?”

You aren’t normally bold like this, would let him keep softly teasing rather than give the same energy back, but there’s a certain finality to this time, your brain is liquid smooth from the tantalizing delight of his touch, and you don’t hold back to inform just what he does to you breathily. “Always for you.”

The movement of his leg staggers and you look up to see him caught completely off guard. And the next thing you know, Leon has you in a bruising kiss, or you think it has the strength to bruise, he hasn’t been this rough before, and you certainly haven’t been craved to this extent in your entire life before him.

This time you accept his tongue willingly into the cavern of your mouth, his fervent licks and gasps rise the question of who’s really the more eager one here, but it doesn’t really occupy space in your mind, limbs stilling overall from how he steals away all bodily functions with just kisses that radiate desperation.

Leon ushers your hips to languidly move when you fail as a multitasker all the while the swirl of your tongues continue to tangle, and it proves difficult as your slide against him becomes smoother and wetter with him finding just how to pull the hood of your mound while you’re pulling back and drag against it in the correct angle, flexing his thigh accordingly.

He pecks your jaw. “Faster?”

Skin contact goes straight to the tightening spiral in your stomach like this. “I can’t—”

“Don’t say you can’t.” He does something that has you dropping down from heights by circling his leg, and completely out of your control, small noises emerge from the back of your throat and you can’t kiss him back anymore. “Do you want it faster or not?”

You try to hum in agreement, but he catches you in the middle of it and jerks you forward, the sharp zap electrifies all your nerves and grants him a startled moan, you can barely see the satisfaction in his face from the sudden tears. You were somehow in control of the pace previously, but once he knows you want it faster, it’s him that anchors your hips to the edge of the stars, a man on a mission.

Leon begins to leave open-mouthed, wet kisses on your neck that has you tilting your head to give him more room, and you’re glad his heavy gaze isn’t drinking in your bliss-stricken expression anymore. “You hear that?” His question is thick. “Listen.”

The noises your wetness make sliding across the muscles of his thigh in a rapid speed makes some of the blood rush up to your cheeks, and the knot is stretched so agonizingly beyond the point of no return that you’re hurling towards absolution, legs beginning to shake and your whines become sweeter. “Leon,” you pant, the fever to keep going as he is conveyed in one singular word reaches him. “Leon—ah, mmh— I’m— Leon!”

“Yeah, I got you.” Adoring kisses are peppered along your jawline and your fingers clutch to his blond hair, pulling him in, your stiffened, perked up nipples are smushed in the press of his chest against yours, and you arch into him like a cat, lost in the ascending ecstasy. “Just let go.” He bites down and your sore walls clench around nothing, the pulsating increasing in intensity. You’re on a thrill ride, shooting up, up, up— “Come for me, sweet girl, come on, give it to me.”

With a sharp, choked cry, and the throw of your head back, the coil explodes and unravels, white sparkles in your vision, and Leon holds you down when your body tries to fly off with the force of your orgasm, the sinking of his hands into your sensitive flesh only heightens and sends crashing waves as he helps you ride through it, rocking lazily with you back and forth.

“Oh god,” you shiver, clinging to him, upper body basically draped across his chest as the pleasure rolls into a stinging ache of pain with the overstimulation, bones jiggly from the floaty feeling to get away yourself. “Too much. Leon. Too much.”

His voice is croaky. “Yeah, we’re not done yet.”

He stands up with his arms supporting your legs around his waist, and you hold on for dear life. It scares every single time he does this. Leon makes it look so easy to carry you around from room to room without breaking a sweat.

The full meaning of his words only get to you when you’re thrown on the bed, wind knocked out of you. “Leon, wait, aren’t you going to Spain tomorrow, don’t you have to prepare—”

“I’m preparing,” he says, putting one knee on the bed and oh god, the shine on his thigh, the drench, that was all you—- “Need to get my fill of you to last for the whole trip, yeah?”

It’s more like he’s saying, ‘To last for the rest of my life’, the hunger and melancholy makes for a Frankenstein’s monster of ravenous, unquenchable yearning when you’re right in front of him and your flame is rekindled.

More than one round with him is uncommon most times because he’s simply busy and moves around a lot, you weren’t used to the practice, build wired to exhaustion taking over when he was finally done with you, either hot, heavy and fast or sweet and intense, each time leaving you with honeyed sore bones and the best sleep following right after.

Arousal pools in the pit of your belly thinking about what comes next.

Kneeling at your feet, he taps your tight-locked knees. “Open up for me.”

It’s morning. He could see every detail of imperfection in this light and uncertainty washes over you for a second before you do as he wishes, the sheets crinkling and rustling beneath your shifting, and he gets on his stomach and puts one of your legs to his shoulder when you thought he would be entering you already.

Flustered, you get up on your elbows. “Leon, you don’t have to.”

“Didn’t think you wanted to get it over with right away.” Sliding his hand up, he fans his fingers on your tummy, thumb pulling at the skin dipping into your vulva, and looks up at you from his eyelashes. Little sparks of pleasure light up at each stroke. The weight of his arm is wonderful. “Breaking my heart over here.”

“It’s not that, I…”

He scooches up, and the knowingly feather-light kiss he leaves on the inside of your thigh, close — right there but not there, makes your leg twitch. “Oh, you wanted something else?” The teasing view of Leon inches away from where you wanted him was a sight for sore eyes, but his sudden hot breath on your post-orgasmic sopping heat broke your daze, making your hips attempt to jump up, but his arm had you absolutely pinned on the mattress. “Well?”

It’s not something you’d planned, but his wanton beauty looking up at you shoves an image inside your brain unexpectedly, reminding you how you’d said you wanted to have him, not the other way around. This is going to be the last time Leon would be like this with you, and there were so many things left unexplored. What would it feel like to have this feline-gracious, strapping man underneath you, to run your lips through his unbelievably sturdy body all over and return the kindness on how good he’s been taking care of you? Leon was always perfect to you. Is perfect. Your wish to present him with how exactly on top of the world he has you feeling for your final time, to return the favor.

Leon has stopped moving and it’s because of your lack of reaction and the long look of contemplation regarding him. You lift his hair away from his eyes. “Can you lay down on your back?”

“You wanna get on top?” he asks, but doesn’t object to it, moving up on the bed and sitting up, getting the hint on taking off his clothes, enamored, you watch his abdomen flex and limbs stretch like a cat’s as he slips his shirt off and throws it away and shimmy off his briefs. Every single movement of his is a wonder.

“No, I want to touch you,” you say, stare not knowing where to focus on him and his half-hard dick jumps at your words. “Explore you.”

He meets your eyes, pupils blown, and swallows, nodding. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“I wanted to have you, remember?”

There’s a semblance of a laugh and Leon rolls on his back, one knee up and hands on his stomach, blond hair fanning around his head on the sheets. He looks like a sculpture. “And how will you have me?”

“Pleasured without thinking of pleasuring,” you explain, he’d be better at the dirty-talk in your position, perhaps say something like ‘Crying for me’, but you’re way too fascinated by him to think about what would have him helplessly turned on. “Vulnerable.”

You would be lucky if you are able to push him to the point of not even one thought behind those pretty blue eyes, but you just want to make him feel good, and with that in mind, reach a hand and trail the tips of your fingers through the prominent web of veins along his forearm, his fingers jump, and you continue through his upper arm, lingering on the sharp lines of lighter-colored small scars until you reach his shoulder, feeling the cluster of the goosebumps that rise in his skin.

“Seriously?” he says with an annoyed timbre and you see him having gone completely hard, eyebrows shooting up in shock. “You’re going this slow? Am I some package you’re unboxing?”

“You seem to be enjoying it,” you murmur in interest, and Leon sulks at how you run all five of your fingernails all the way down the lower of his belly button and how it’s hardly even a graze at all. His abs keep contracting. “I barely touched you.”

“You, haah,” he sighs at you straddling and hovering above him. “Don’t need to point that out.”

Leon tries to hold onto your thighs but you maneuver him away, and unsurprisingly, he isn’t pleased by that, groaning. “Oh we’re doing this?”

“I’m touching you. Stay still like a good boy.”

It’s your usual banter, but for some reason, he turns his face away and closes his eyes for a second, wetting his lips as if his mouth is dry. The line of his neck clenches and unclenches and you feel the brush of his dick lightly hit the inside of your leg. You’re fascinated again. He likes this more than you expected. “God, you really want to kill me.”

Leon could stop it if he wanted to. Switch it around. It’s not like he hasn’t done it before. All the times you’ve attempted to ride him and your knees and calves failed you, he ended up sitting up and hugging you close, fucking up into you and kneading your insides from below and littering your shoulders with angry red marks, taking control of the pace, especially riled up from how endearing and sexy you were trying your best to pleasure him, in his words. He can do it again, but doesn’t. Just lies there, all for you, stuck between a rock and a hard place — which, in this case, is his discomfort and enjoyment. The lack of stimulation gets him going.

You lean down and nip at the corner of his mouth, and he responds immediately, turning back to you, chasing the kiss. His hands come up to your waist but you take them off, pinning them to his sides, and Leon complains through sharply breathing into your mouth. “I’ll only,” Kiss. “Hold you.” Kiss. “Please, just let me—” You lightly bite his tongue.

As if he couldn’t do it if he truly wanted to. He is letting you do this to him. Pleading. In that tone of voice, too. You’re in over your head, what is happening?

“No,” you say, kissing his jaw and caressing the hinge of his opposite jaw with your thumb, sounding stern but feeling silly inside, unsure if he’s amused by you deep down. But Leon huffs again like a spoiled brat not getting what he wants.

You’re shell-shocked, but continue your pursuit to find out what else he likes, settling on his ear, making a line through the outer rim of soft tissue with your tongue and sucking kisses until he’s shifting around, you can hear how he’s trying to level out his breathing, then you bite, and he hisses as you repeat it over and over again.

You’ve heard that some men enjoy getting their nipples played with, and you caress and massage, knead and fondle all over his torso with both hands as the switching of your gentle and silky mouth and the needling pleasure of teeth assault his ear, and you listen to his heavy breathing the occasional hitch of it until you circle around one nub, and flick it, rubbing down and pressing the pebbled nipple inwards, just like how he does it to you, and twist the other one. His face hides itself in your neck, and you let him have that, at least.

His exhale turns into sound and he shuts it down pretty quickly, opting to speak up instead. “Can you—” he begins, and then tuts, sounding nonchalant, but you hear it. You hear the thickness of contained arousal. “Can you move on already?”

“You want the other ear?”

His head jerks in your position at you saying that straight into his ear and breathing into it, you know the thin sheen of saliva coating it makes the sensation sharp and cool and warming at the same time. “No—” he says, but you ignore him, cutting the rejection off by taking his other earlobe between your teeth. “Jesus Christ, this isn’t necessary—”

“If it isn’t, why is this wet?” You ask, watching him closely, tapping the pearl of clear liquid gathered at the tip of his ramrod straight hardness. It’s scalding hot, throbbing at the contact. Leon hisses between his teeth, trying to contain it, and sighs as your index finger circles the tip to spread it around, another bead of precum swelling in the wake of your touch. His eyebrows are scrunched, lips thinning and returning to their usual plushness with him pushing them together, a dust of pink coloring his complexion, a weak glare is on you. “Just enjoy it.”

“I could if you actually did something already.”

You wrap a tight hand around Leon’s needy cock, heavy and thick, and he shouts, the cry turning into a high-pitched whine you would never dream of coming from him and he clamps a hand on his mouth right in the middle of it, hips bucking into you, head thrown back, blown eyes horrified at what he just did. His breaths are loud and shaky, face turning red in seconds, and you watch, utterly captivated. You’ve seen adorable sides of him before when he lets himself be light and his brow isn’t hanging close to his eyes in that grumpy mood, but what you have right here…

You’re drunk on this side of his, nibbling at his exposed throat. “You’ll take what I give you.”

“God,” he whispers behind his palm, with a subtle tremble when you squeeze once and let go. His hips stutter up before falling back. Leon’s embarrassed. “Fuck.”

He doesn’t retort back, all of the sass packed and left. You can’t believe this is working. That Leon’s obeying you like this. He’s leaked all over your hand. Oh my god.

And you’ve really barely even done anything to him.

You can’t help but wonder if this is you doing this to Leon or he’s just into being bossed around in general.

How further can you push?

“Look, you’ve wet my hand,” you say, bringing your glistening palm up and separating your fingers after circling the gathered precum around, a thin thread forming between the digits. Like a hawk, he watches you lap it all up and you don’t take your eyes off of his, hearing him grip the sheets. “Still gonna act like this isn’t doing anything for you?”

Leon’s voice is gravelly as he rasps, “Kiss me.” It’s something between a request and a demand that if you don’t do it, he will.

You oblige, pushing down on his chest to get him to lie down again when it’s apparently too slow and soft for him, and he avidly presses forward to make it rougher, intertwining his tongue with yours harsher to the point of your mixed drool sliding down his chin for more.

He’s yanking and pulling on his clasp on the dreadfully wrinkled covers in self-restraint as he bites and licks and pulls at your lips, butterflies light up the pit of your stomach and thrash against the liquefied rapture that throbs in your pussy and seeps out, the need for attention growing impatient by the minute.

You go down and focus on kissing his neck, alternating between openmouthed licks and bites, careful not to leave marks, insides doing a summersault at the small noise of disappointment he makes that transitions into husky gasps. Leon still is concerned with suppressing any kind of unbecoming sounds he’s appalled to come out of him, and you’re bothered by that. Pressing your palm on the head of his cock and twisting sure does the trick to vocalize him a bit, restoring your confidence.

“Ah… Can’t you just directly touch it,” he sighs gruffly. “This isn’t enough—”

“You aren’t asking nicely enough.”

His head snaps down, brows raised in disbelief, self-consciousness clouding the teased promise of bliss that edges him on, and you stare back at him pointedly — however, on the inside, you’re worried if he’d ever beg at all.

You twist your palm with added pressure enough to alleviate the pain, but not enough to carry him to the peak he wants to get to, and his shoulders jump up, “Ah!” Biting down on his momentarily trembling lower lip and shaking his head with closed eyes as if he doesn’t want to see you watch him be like this, he mutters, “I’m gonna get you for this…”

You grip the base of his cock so hard his hands fly up to your wrists and with a shuddering whimper, stop at the last second before he touches you and he drapes his forearms on his reddened face instead, his back rises from the bed involuntarily, Leon’s flat-on squirming and hating it.

“That’s not nice,” you tease, pressing your legs together in momentary relief and waves of pleasure that slip on your skin like silk, and narrowly stopping the moan. You breathily add, “What do we say?”

“Please,” so fast and quiet, humiliated. You understand, but don’t let him off.

“I didn’t catch that.”

“Fuck, please, come on, please.” His hands ball into fists and his arm veins pop out and his right knee curls upwards. “You can’t keep doing this to me—AHH—mhhmh—!”

His sentence gets cut off into incomprehensible babbling once you start pumping your fist up and down his neglected erection, not even needing lotion for it, he’s drenched enough to make the slide beyond slippery. You add your other hand into the mix and begin teasing the tip, and his chest, having developed a thin layer of sweat and gleaming in the sunlight, is heaving, and he can’t swallow the gasps and noises anymore, fingernails digging into his palms. You can only see his puffed, rufescent lips from the way he’s covering his face.

“Wasn’t what I had in mind, but I’ll take it,” you say, and it’s genuine. This much alone was too much, way beyond what you thought could happen. Leon is always in control, he has it together so brilliantly that this is actually him falling apart, it’s an enthralling, spellbinding natural disaster so beautiful you can’t look away, want to touch yourself to the sight.

“I’ll show you what I have in mind,” Leon all but snarls, and he has you on your back and pulls you towards him by your legs harshly even before shivers can go down your spine. “Let’s see if you can take that.”

You pushed him past his limit it seems, and he darkly stares you down, eyebrows scrunched and beads of sweat rolling down his temples. sweat-dampened hair curtains his face from both sides. His hand slips behind both of your knees and scratches at the smooth skin of the crevice, shooting lightning directly into your core, and he hikes them up to hook over his shoulder and hugs one bulging arm around to hold them together, lining himself up with your slit with a trembling hand, dragging the cherry red, furious tip up and down, slipping it in for a bit, catching your insides in a tantalizing drag, and then taking it out next, making your toes curl in the air and drawing squeals out of you.

Leon would normally send you to the underground and back from how horribly he’d tease you for being this drenched for him, but he’s strained and silent now, snapping his hips against yours and burying himself to the hilt in the spasming cavern of your pussy in one go, with no resistance from how ready for him you were, ripping a fractured cry from you as your vision blacks and stars dance behind your eyes. He groans gutturally, cock pulsing inside, and you feel the sound in your body. You’re overly sensitive from head to toe, and even the sheets sliding against your burning skin makes your clit throb painfully, deliciously.

He doesn’t start slow or build to something, it’s quick and rough right off the bat as he’s ramming into you with no mercy, and he’s basically catapulting you into glorious completion, but you need more stimulation, more, something more—

He slaps your hand away when you try to reach down to your clit to slip two fingers between your tightly shut legs and falls on his forearms, “No way I’m letting you do that.” Leon arranges your legs to wrap around his waist, grinding against you.

His attention then shifts to something else and he pulls on the sleeve of your shirt that’s still on, a scheming shine comes to the blue of his eyes that worry you, and then he’s leaning in and forcing it up. It’s hard for you to move your back and slip it off with the way he’s pinning you down, and it dawns on you late after you make the mistake of raising your arms that it’s what he wants after all. After getting your head out, Leon turns it inside out around the entire length of your arms that act as a makeshift restraint and leaves it like that, you’re incapacitated with your hands over your head like this.

You whine, this is so about not letting him touch you, and he thrusts up sharply to shut you up, sucking blossoming reds into the crook of your neck, hands pulling and pinching at your nipples. It’s building up. It’s building up, but— “You’re going to come like this.”

The frantic slap of skin against skin is echoing in the room and you struggle against the bunched up shirt around your arms. “Can’t—”

“You’re doing it on purpose at this point.” He laces his fingers into your hair on top of your head, thumb on your forehead in little caresses, contrasting how he fucks you shallow and fast, his voice a couple octaves higher than it usually is as he angles your hips upwards to hit deeper, and your moans are a metronome in beat to his ruthless pace.

“Yeah, that’s right, take it!” Eyes glazed over, mouth agape, the muscles in his thighs jumping, body pulled taut, wrecked and somehow begging, Leon doesn’t leave a single spot unkissed on your face and throat and he’s hurling towards an uncontrolled craze, he’s so close himself. “More? You want more? Too bad, this is it—mmm—for what you just did to me, and you’re gonna take it!”

You’re clamping down on him and he hisses in your ear as you repeat it like a mantra, Leon is wrenching a merciless orgasm from you and you have no control over it, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t, can’tcan’tcan’tcan’t—!”

Leon’s delectable weight pins you down as you shoot up with the detonation of the pleasure into a thousand pieces, rippling through your body in building waves, your pussy clenching down on him catches him off guard and he unceremoniously spills into you with a choked, staccato shout shuddering, the succulent warmth coating your insides and adding to the ecstasy, and it just keeps coming, his load is too heavy and too much. Your stiffened legs lock the shivering man in place and tremble around his waist as he languidly rides his bliss out, forehead sticky against your clavicle, the sheer strength with which he holds you against him is euphoric rather than suffocating.

“God, what the fuck was that,” he mumbles at some point, collapsing on top of you and turning you around with him so he won’t crush you, pulling you to his sweaty chest and putting his chin on top of your head. His scent has you in a fuzzy daze. “What did you do to me?”

You don’t respond, consciousness slipping from your fingers and pulling you deep into the sweet comfort of the dark.

You feel his hand on your cheek, lightly nudging. “Hey, you okay?”

“Mhm,” you manage to make out. “Wanna sleep…”

“Okay, sweet girl, I got you,” he says, soft and endeared, from far, far away.

And with that, you’re out like a light.

When you wake up, you find yourself thoroughly cleaned up, in comfortable, cotton pajamas, with no Leon in sight and a small note left on your nightstand with the keys to your apartment on top of it.

It reads: Had to go. I’m sorry about not staying until you woke up. Talk to you when I get back.

You plop back on your fluffy pillows and sigh, chest hurting. It was always going to end this way. In hindsight, you’ve seen it coming.

Your heart doesn’t agree, tears freely falling from your eyes. It’s really over. Leon really left like that. Just as he came into your life.

You don’t have the right to complain. You’d agreed to it in the first place.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s. kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy headcanons #leon s. kennedy headcanons #resident evil 4 #re4 remake

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yanderecandystore · 10 months

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I love the yandere monster story, can I make a wish for some yandere monster boy naga who is looking for a mate to carry his eggs and live the rest of his life together forever?

I don't condone yandere shit irl, but if you bang a naga man someday I'll give you a pass and a cookie, you mad lad. Not proofread enough lmao, also sorry but I really don't know how to type s e x.

Tw/Tags: straight up NSFW/+18 scene (written by someone who struggles to imagine sex- So we don't guarantee quality) // not very descriptive genitals, if at all // the usual yandereness + breeding kink; possessive behavior; manipulation; suffocation; implied oviposition but not really cause I'm dumb // you're a literal desert mailman💀 I'm sorry // brief mentions of troubled family life/past trauma // language barrier // self-conscious reader // willing yet slightly scared reader.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Writing in the sand [Yandere!Male!Naga x AFAB!Messenger!Reader - One shot]

Being a messenger was actually a lot more dangerous than it seemed at first, how many times have you and your camel met with bandits, scammers, difficult terrain, awful weather, people who would tell you the wrong direction for shits and giggles?? MANY times, but did you ever consider quitting and going back to the tea shop of your very judgmental parents or worse- To accept the offer of personal servant to that weird queen from the faraway lands who wouldn't shut up about how much better her kingdom was?? NO!

I mean a little bit. Just a little bit. Occasionally, I mean her kingdom was really pretty, though constant snow sounds like a pain in the ass, and giving up the freedom you currently have for either a strict monarch or your family was NOT something you were planning to do, ever!

The first time you got off the borders to send messages for far away people was the day you truly felt alive for once! The desert itself was your greatest rival and yet you faced it head down after that day- Sure, you were unprepared at first and there's still plenty to learn out there but it was EXCITING!!

You fought (ran away as quickly as you could) many groups trying to get a coin out of your body, or your life! Or your camel!! King Mustard wasn't the same after the "giant scorpion with that group of thieves" incident that happened, the worst part is that it happened twice though the people were different at least. Your personal theory is that the scorpion WAS the same from before, and that it has been following you through your journeys and it probably was looking for revenge!!

You told that story to so many people that now it's hard to go someplace without repeating yourself, it's weird how even though you're never at one place for too long, most people know you! You're, humbly speaking, sort of a big deal in the great drylands- Not known for your bravery but mostly for your constant running mouth and your adapted technique in how to extract cactus juice safely from a cactus with 70% success of no cactus drunkenness! (100% Needle-safe not included).

Stopping in a town was obviously the safest place for you and your camel, but was also probably one of the most rewarding parts of your trips, of course because you always need to have plenty of resources out there in the sand but also because… Well, as much as you loved every second of exploration and travel, you were admittedly a very lonely person.

It's not something you like to tell others, as you have already experienced people doubting your capability of being a messenger if you get so "emotional" over being far away from people ("I told you so!" Yeah, thanks mum.). It was a time you could feel at least safe and… Sometimes welcomed.

But it wasn't always a lonely trip, after all, King Mustard was here! Him with his big personality was always the heart of the party! Everyday was fun with him, even if he couldn't speak to you… However, that doesn't mean you haven't found great comfort in your travels, you probably haven't noticed this yourself yet, but [y/n]...

You are a very dear person.

Every person you've helped along the way in your trips, just by coincidence finding them, and landing them a hand in the hot and harsh reality of the desert thinks of you dearly. You have friends! It's just that you don't see them very often… If at all. The desert has a funny way of getting people closer, people who struggle to survive in its environment, and yet it also drifts them away- The wind blows in every direction separating every small particle of sand, and maybe one day they'll meet again, or maybe not. Cruel was it, with its breathtaking beauty and extremely cold personality for someone so hot and merciless.

You often associate the desert with its forgotten god. You tend to talk about it as a person rather than just an environment of harsh conditions, you always remember to talk to it, hoping it would listen in a way. You were pretty much by yourself out there, but thinking that someone was listening to your travels made you feel safer, perhaps not as tormented as the blazing Sun would leave you to believe. You were being watched, and protected, you just knew it!

The proof of it came from one of the greatest encounters you ever had during your travels.

It was really hot that day, King Mustard seemed really tired and you were melting under the blazing heat- You two needed shelter and fast! And suddenly, as if the gods listened to your prayers!-(But quickly threw you two middle fingers)- An immense sandstorm was approaching!! For someone as cautious as you, you couldn't understand where the hell it came from!! It was so sudden and just- There was no indication of it!! At all!!

You got knocked out, and when you woke up- You were… Somewhere strange, like an underground oasis of sorts, hidden in the desert there was a cave of luscious greenery and drinkable water, it was magical how big the place was!! You thought you had died and went straight to Paradise!!

At least, you thought so when you saw a very large and handsome man staring back at you, smiling gently. He had tanned skin and a REALLY long, almost platinum hair! He looked so gorgeous with his green cat eyes that you almost forgot to breathe!

You asked the man if he was an angel, and he responded to you in a language you didn't understand. You were 100% certain that the man was really an angel and yet when he revealed the lower part of his body your face dropped immediately, terror slightly setting in. He was half snake, half a giant snake at that! His tail seemed endless, those dark scales were so pretty yet so terrifying! The gold markings seemed very regal and holy in nature but the endless darkness almost seemed to eat it all up! Like a demon!

You freaked out at first, but when you looked at his eyes, his gentle face- His expression of concern, those big bright eyes, you noticed he really didn't seem to have any ill intent towards you, perhaps you were misjudging him for something he was not. After breathing in and out, you calmed down, never taking your eyes from him, you felt comforted as you realized this creature was the one who saved you out there! And who saved your camel!! He was still really scared of your snake buddy, but you made sure to soothe him.

Long story short, you became friends with a human-snake guy who seemed genuinely very cool! It's a shame you didn't understand a word he said… You suspect that maybe he speaks in a very ancient language and perhaps this means he was REALLY old!! And yet, he seemed just about your age, and you got to hangout with him during your free time.

Poor thing, he seemed trapped down here (though to be fair, it is a fabulous prison to be in-) and he really wanted to catch up with times! So you made it your duty to help him understand the new world, you have no idea why he is here and how long did he live here separated from the rest of the world, but now that you knew how to get there and how to get out- You made it your mission to teach him everything you knew about the modern world.

And although the language barrier was massive, you two somehow got to learn something very special about each other- He shared with you his name, "Rakaski", and you got to teach him yours.

~"[y/n]"~ His accent was heavy, and yet you felt something flutter inside you whenever you heard him call your name. You remember him repeating your name over and over again as if he wanted to memorize how to say it.

After hearing his name, you made sure to research it, trying to find something that could lead you to know what language he was talking in- But no books nor people seemed to know how to speak it, except for one book you found, a fairytale book that was so old that it was a nightmare trying to understand the vernacular! But it didn't seem like a very "old" old kind of book, it was probably made after the language had changed, there were a lot of words that you didn't recognize.

The book never explained the name's meaning really, but it was always used as a common word- And given the context of the story you read, it seemed to mean either "falling" or "god"? Well, you're not very sure, since the book was confusing as hell, and your interpretation of the story was very mixed- Was it about a desert deity or a man that kept tripping over in the sand?! Seriously, why did it have to be so confusing!?

In the end, you still didn't understand the book and neither did you find out anything about Rakaski's name. At least you know it was older than your home kingdom, which was pretty cool.

Either way, the lack of communication never stopped you from coming down that hidden paradise to talk to your best friend every opportunity you could! King Mustard can be very squeamish whenever you guys try to get down there, he really disliked going there and you assumed it was because he was claustrophobic, which you already knew he was. So, today you'll leave him in the shade and get down by yourself, you don't want to stress the poor thing.

"M-Mustard! King Mustard Junior The Third, stop pushing me around!! You know you're a lot heavier than me! Seriously, this isn't funny!!" Ah, King Mustard, for a camel you're really just a scaredy cat! You push him away gently as you can, he keeps positioning himself in front of the hole you want to jump in.

"Hey stop!! If you don't want to come then fine, but let me get in! Please! I'll be back soon!" The massive animal was starting to get a little too agitated, and you knew better than to try to force your way.

"Mustard, seriously you're starting to scare me, you know I'll be back soon, please let me get down." You don't know if it was the deep magical connection of friendship that made him understand you and realize that he scared you, or if he suddenly felt disinterested in playing with you right now.

Taking by how the camel sassily walked away you're starting to think it was the second option- Of was he genuinely insulted by your stubbornness? Who knows.

"Sigh… You always get like this when we pass by." Though you can't really blame him, you know he still distrusts Rakaski, but come on it's been a year! And Rakaski has never hurt any of you two! Sure, he was a bit intimidating at first but he had a good heart, you just knew that.

Compared to the men back in your hometown? Rakaski was a saint, you were sure of it.

You had slid through the sandy hole and into the luscious underground with ease, you started to call for him, but before you could even yell out "Ra" you saw him not so far away, seemingly very occupied.

"Awn, guess you're decorating! Have I come at a bad time?" You walked to him and joked despite being aware he wouldn't understand you.

The way his face lit up and turned to face you was just so precious, he seemed very excited!

~"[y/n]!! [y/n]!! It's really good to see you again!! I was already worried you would never come."~ He talked just like you, committing the same mistake of talking as if the other would understand- You had no clue what he said, but as he coiled around you and his arms squeezed you oh so dearly you understood exactly what he meant.

"Yeah, yeah- Missed you too-" You never knew how to deal with anything social, period, and being flustered at someone who wasn't even human was not a first but it never got easier. But with him, at least, you feel like you don't need to pretend that you don't feel slightly flustered by his attention. Gods know you're a very easy target for large and very well built men.

After he let you go, you realized he was just building a new nest for him, so you decided to help him as well. It was already pretty much done when you got in, but you felt like he deserved a "fancy" bed so you helped him decorate with flowers and some of the trinkets you bought for him, he just loved human trinkets!

And by the gods, you knew you were currently in Spring, but these flowers?! They were just so damn pretty, it's a real shame that your traveling is mostly done in sand, occasionally though you have to go to the East to deliver important letters and gifts and you just kinda love that place! Every time you go, they're experiencing a different season, and it all changes so much, it's beautiful!!

"Oooh!! Maybe I should bring you flowers from one of the neighboring kingdoms, it'll be a way to show you the world since you can't leave…" You think out loud, and of course, he looks at you a little confused- And yet he repeats the word you said.

"Flowers?" He repeats it as if he didn't understand what you said, yet liked how you said it.

"Yes! Flowers!-" You say pointing to the flowers in his nest and surrounding you two, he quickly understands it, it seems.

~"Oh! Flowers! Oh, that's what it's called to you? Great heaven's, humans are always changing, aren't they?"~ He starts to laugh, you… Sort of don't understand the joke, but perhaps "flowers" just sounds funny to him.

He patted your head as he laughed, as if trying to congratulate you on making him laugh (I mean, getting this man to laugh was a challenge, you bet even without the language barrier).....

Although, it felt more like a "reward" sort of situation… As if he was rewarding you for… Being so entertaining, you suppose! Still, that's probably just all in your head, besides you know well when someone is being condescending to you, you're sure of it! Years inside your family's house has made you a pro in spotting bad apples from far away. I mean, you like to think you do, to be fair Rakaski was a little difficult to read, and sometimes he did things that you probably weren't sure of what they meant.

But then again, he was a very old half snake dude trapped inside a cave somewhere along the rock formations spread all over an unforgiving desert, his social life was probably a lot worse than yours, and who's to say that his antics aren't based on his own culture? Perhaps snake people like to coil around each other to show affection, even if it's really hard to breathe like this.

Things weren't so complicated between you two, however, as you guys have invented a form of simple and more direct communication through pointing to objects and scribbling on paper. You had thought about using sign language, so you learned a couple of words and tried to use with him-

"So- This means that- Hm..?"

But before you could teach him he already was talking to you through hand signs you didn't understand, he was very well adapted and you only knew a few like "hello", "you", "me" and "see you soon"- Which would be the most used one for you two.

"Huh, you always impress me, maybe you should be the one teaching me-" You bowed down, genuinely impressed with what you saw, and he seemed very content with himself as he smugly pretended to wave and throw kisses to a nonexistent audience. His ego was always a bit inflated, wasn't it?

You decided to cut your visit short and return back to King Mustard as you didn't want to leave him waiting for too long. It's funny how neither him nor Rakaski liked each other despite sharing a diva personality. As you waved your goodbye, Rakaski decided to give you one last big hug.

A hug that didn't seem to end at all. His body wrapping around you and leaving you to feel surrounded by darkness. This usually happened so it didn't come as any surprise. You tried to tickle him as that usually worked.

"Come on now, you know I'll be back soon!" You laughed as you tried to provoke him, his belly was so sensitive that you could see him contracting and trying to avoid giggling.

But he didn't let you go. Your attempt only made him restrict you further, the snake body trapping your hands with its weight.

You were well aware of Rakaski's animalistic tendencies, for example he was cold blooded and constantly held you to try to gain some height, like he is doing now.

You know that when he yawns his jaw unhinges and opens so inhumanly wide that you have to close your eyes so you won't have any more nightmares about it.

You know he is nocturnal so he is constantly feeling a little too sleepy whenever you two hangout, as you often come to see him during the day (which was something you did for safety, though you sometimes worry he is having trouble sleeping because of you-).

And you also know that snakes tend to suffocate their prey with their body before eating them whole.

While trying not to judge him as a human eating monster you still feel very, very terrified of the slight chance he might be hungry and has forgotten you're not food. The more you struggle the tighter it gets, and it doesn't help that his skin is so cold, it makes your nerves flare up as you can hear him growling with what you hope is not hunger.

"RAKASKI-!!" You yell, you couldn't help it, you were starting to feel dazed. While closing your eyes you felt his lower body shift and relax, you felt arms hugging you a lot more gently than the suffocating sensation from before. If it wasn't for his lazy eyes and the internal chuckling you can feel in his chest you would say he was actually hungry for you. He was just trying to scare you.

"Sigh, you'll be the death of me- Seriously you scared me to death!" You tried to push him off you, but he basically threw his entire body weight on you as you fell to the ground with your back on the soft yet not very ideally comfortable grass.

"Shhhh~!" He nuzzles on you while hugging your stomach. Normally he would have let you go now after petting your head or pretending to bite your neck just for funsies- But today he is very much not letting you go, at all.

Okay, you really didn't want to address the situation, you weren't planning on ever talking about it of course but- By the gods, you knew better than to assume his playful smile was just his usual silly self.

Oh, who were you kidding, you knew it from the moment you came in and saw the nest he was making, it's not like you haven't noticed his chest rising and falling as if he was struggling to breathe just by talking with you. You wanted to leave because you noticed that perhaps you took the wrong month to visit him.

It was mating season, wasn't it? Why now? Why today?! And why WERE YOU ACTUALLY CONSIDERING IT?!!!

"Okay I think I need to think about this a little more- I mean you're clearly not thinking straight right, I'm not even a snake lady, man!" You try to push him off you as you avoid eye contact, the worst part is that he was fairly attractive for someone's who's lower body was just one huge snake tail.

He wouldn't budge, he only shifted his head to look at your face, even if you were avoiding him you could feel his smirk creeping around the corner of your vision, you wouldn't be surprised if he knew what you also knew.

I mean, it wasn't a secret you liked him was it? You thought you didn't mind him noticing this but this sudden desire just feels like it's happening all too fast and you're worried it might be just a one time thing, that he is acting like this out of instinct not out of actual desire towards you. And well you never really did this before, I mean not with someone like him, at all! But you had experiences with people before.

Bad experiences. The ones that would leave someone worried for years that they're not good enough to anyone. Were you being cautious or were you just being self-conscious? Were you scared of him not liking you when this high of his diminished? Maybe you just weren't sure if this was a good idea.

"I don't know if I'm really ready for this." You confess, looking back at him- Hoping to find your answer.

And he looked back at you with a sad expression, did he understand what you said? Did he understand what you meant at least? He looked so concerned and genuinely "awake" despite his current very urgent instincts. He held your hand and kissed it for reassurance, you didn't notice you were crying until your vision was blurry and your chest was aching.

"Sorry.." You tried to wipe them yourself, you don't know why you're apologizing. Rakaski didn't seem to take it well, he was about to say something before shaking his head vigorously and wiping your tears himself. He came closer to look you in the eyes, stop staring elsewhere, you won't find comfort anywhere else but those eyes.

He decides to come off of you and give you some space despite his initial reluctance, the gentle and almost warm presence of reassurance leaving with him- And before he could give you space you decided to make the first move yourself.

You kissed him, hoping perhaps he would understand the gesture, and he did! He hugged you and kissed you back returning your neediness… Though coming in with a lot more desperation than you thought. Not seconds after forcing his tongue in despite your unisseanes.

I mean, it 's good! He isn't being horrific at it is just that you have underestimated how badly he seemed to want this. And although you're just as interested in this as he is, you're worried you may not hold to the same durability as he has.

Today was the day. Today had to be day, and he wouldn't have it any other way. To wait longer would be torture and you best believe this man was patient. He wasn't expecting you to almost reject him at first of course, oh you almost gave the immortal a heart attack!

He shouldn't have been so pushy, he knows that, but having your soft lips on his was so worth it that he couldn't help himself as he pinned you down again, ah… It's a shame the nest is so far away, this is not a very classy way to do things.

Then again, ripping off your clothes with no regards was probably not very refined either, humans needed a lot more courting than he was aware of- But it was fine! You were doing just great, you were being so good to him, he wishes he could praise you in your own language so you could understand him.

~"You're so lovely for something so fragile, thank you for accepting me- You have no idea how long I've spent being trapped here knowing damn well there's not a single other like me out there."~ He would praise you in his own tongue in frantic breaths while kissing your neck and nibbling in your ear, while his lower body made sure to lock you in place, you were a little scared, weren't you?

~"I'm genuinely sorry for having to put you in this position but I can't take it anymore- But I know you want this as well, I know you do!"~ He usually was very talkative, but there was something in his voice that sounded shaky, desperate, and his hands were too confused on where and what to grab that you noticed he seemed just as inexperienced as you were.

Well, at least you thought so before he spread your legs and started to rock back and forth in your lower region- It's not exactly that he is inexperienced, but he is very much off his mind right now- His movements aren't uncertain, they're just frantic for any release. Not that he won't tend to you as well, he just really needs this right now. But you'll understand, you always do. You always treat him so well, despite the monster he has become.

~"It'll hurt, and I'm not sure if it's only a little. I promise to make it worth it later to you."~

You were struggling to keep up with his weird and off putting rhythm- He was just so ready for this, it's been on his mind ever since he found you unconscious inside his natural prison, but he knew better than to be selfish to someone he'll have to share a nest with.

~"It'll be great don't worry, I'll make sure you'll be well taken care of. It'll be incredible, my treasure."~

You shivered when he went from humping your lower region to undressing kissing it almost as passionately as he did your mouth- He should probably move a little slower considering he changes activities way too quickly but hey it felt better than the awkward dry humping.

It wasn't bad, but it lacked a bit of finesse- Not like his careful and calculated attention to your privates right now-

"Humans need a lot more work than I remember, but does that mean we can make it last longer? Would you want that, treasure? [y/n]?" Rakaski was playing with it almost as if he never looked at something like a naked human before, but it was a lie- He was absolutely just trying to tease you with every poke and flick.

He ran his finger down slowly before reaching an opening and pulling it inside, at least one to feel you inside. It's lovely that you arch your back to the littlest of things, and although he doesn't understand your words, moans are hardly hard to misinterpret.

"Slower then? I guess I was being too unprepared, I'll be honest that it's more fun than I expected. If this is the work I have to do every time then I'll gladly accept." Human courting was fascinating to him, though now he understands why, he can't just expect you to take it all in with a little help- And helping someone never tasted so sweet.

You were feeling embarrassed by his stare as he licked you out and further tried to spread you- Trying to ease the inevitable soreness that would come but damn, did he have to look at you like that?! It made you feel a little dirty, a little too embarrassed to entertain his idea, for someone who seemed so eager to shove it in without any foreplay he was really taking his time now!

You grabbed his hair carefully, you didn't really notice what you were doing and to be honest you weren't sure how to continue with this but Rakaski looked at you in awe… His smugness was replaced with a look of pure adoration- His pupils wide and round as he expects you to guide him.

It gave you a bit more confidence knowing he trusted you to hold his head and sort of help him find the right pacing.

You don't remember for how long it went, you just remember that it ended with you on top of him, going at your own pace. He held your hips not stopping you to go as fast or as slow as you wanted but rather because he felt very uncomfortable NOT holding every centimeter of you. He needed to grab into something and your sweet flesh was exactly that.

You woke up in his nest, feeling a little disoriented, memories of what happened a little foggy, but you were sure it wasn't a dream considering the soreness in your thighs- It was hard moving.

You sighed, feeling weirdly satisfied- Well, that's not the right word, more like… Well, genuinely happy.

You tried around, and you saw Rakaski curled up into a ball, sleeping so peacefully and yet with that little mischievous smirk in his face you just knew he was dreaming about it.

You turned your body to face him, deciding to close your eyes and sleep a little more.

Until you remembered you left your camel outside.

"HOLY GODS, KING MUSTARD!!" You jumped up, trying to run as quickly as you could towards the entrance- But you couldn't even leave the nest when Rakaski wrapped his tail on you and pulled you closer.

"WAIT! It 's my camel!! I forgot I left him-"

"Stay." He said in a very half awake voice.

"You can talk…?"

"Stay." Rakaski wrapped himself around you, as he buried his face in your neck. You weren't sure if he was understanding what you said, or if he only understood the meaning of that one word.

"Rakaski, I'm just going to check on him, I'll be back soon, I promise-" You pushed his chest away. You shouldn't have done that.

Rakaski tightened his grip around your body.

"Stay. [y/n]. You're not supposed to walk so soon. Stay still, no mother should walk so early after mating…" He still sounds so sleepy, so innocent, but his half opened gaze was not… friendly.

"Rak- AH!-" Tighter, and tighter, and more tighter. He knows damn well that whenever you get to that camel you're leaving him for gods know how long, but as he stated before, soon to be mothers shouldn't walk around in the dead of night especially since he knows humans don't deal well with the coldness of the desert during this hour.

It's better to stay here and let him take care of you while you're now waiting for his kids, even if you aren't aware of it. He isn't sure how long hybrids take to be born, but he wasn't to be there for you every step of the way.

"Shhhh…. Go back to sleep, stop struggling, it is not good for you…" He kissed you goodnight as he suffocated you back to sleep.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

#yandere naga #yandere monster #choco stuff #special delivery request #yandere naga x reader #yandere male #yandere monster x reader #yandere oneshot #Jesus Christ this must have SO MANY mistakes I'm so sorry #I'll iron it out real soon tho #also THANK YOU FOR LIKING MY MONSTER STUFF I LOVE YOU JSGDGJQSGJQSFQ

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ceruleancattail · 2 months

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Observation

Jade x reader

Tw: yandere, stalking, man’s a literal creep

Jade tends to document things he finds important.

Perhaps it’s just a habit for him, being the vice housewarden of Octavinelle. Penning everything down in a small leather journal, tightly bound by a rubber band. If you think that’s the only protection that bounded book has, you’ll pay dearly for that folly.

Certain… ‘charms’ from the deep sea are sewn into its cover, engraved into every single page. Spells, in a tongue lesser known by the folk who live on land. If anyone peeked within, the next thing they’ll be looking at would be the ceiling of the sick bay.

Jade’s charms aren’t as charming as they sound. He does value his privacy, really. Other than Ocatvinelle’s trade secrets, his own notes and schedules have a place within that book of mystery.

Of course, you have a special place in it as well.

Not that you’ll ever know.

Jade takes special care to make sure you never find out. It’ll be quite problematic if you ever saw whatever he’s… written about you. As much as he had confidence in his silver tongue, no amount of words could probably twist the inked words into something… acceptable.

On those pages lie various passages, scattered throughout the book. A detailed write up about you. Your likes, your dislikes, your unconscious habits… it’s all neatly penned down in cursive, documented in Jade’s little journal.

He spends more time than most, observing you. Sneaking glances through the window, mismatched irises silently taking note of every little thing you do. Jade knows what hand is your dominant one (or perhaps you use both! How talented), which type of pen is your favourite, the expression you have when you’re lost in thought…

Jade knows almost everything about you. Ranging from more innocent topics like your favourite colour, your go-to karaoke songs to… things that you wouldn’t tell anybody. Things that he should not have known.

Your favourite sleeping position. The way your face contorts in fear. How sensitive you were, to someone else’s gaze. Jade timed it himself, trailing behind you like a shadow.

It took quite quickly for you to spin around, clutching at the strap of your bag. Jade clicked the stopwatch himself, chuckling darkly behind a pillar. For someone as tall as he was, Jade’s rather good at hiding.

It makes it very useful, when it comes to watching over you. Oh, don’t get it twisted. He harbours no such delusions of being your “knight”. Jade’s not watching over you to protect you or anything… although he could be persuaded, if you were to come running to him, begging for his help.

Oh no. He’s just observing you, like one of his prized fungi specimens. You fascinate him, truly. Could you really blame him for wanting to find out everything about you? It’s simply a labour of love.

They say true soulmates know every last thing about each other. Well, there’s nothing hard-work and a little perseverance can’t fix, hm?

Jade writes down every last thing about you. He works hard, truly. It’s all for your sake, anyways. Jade will tug and pull on every one of your strings, gently coaxing you closer, closer to him. There’s no use trying to run. Jade knows every single one of your quirks, so much better then you yourself could ever hope to comprehend.

So won’t you accept him, darling ? After all, you’ve got nowhere to run. Not anymore.

Jade has you in the palm of his hand.

He has no plans of letting you go, not anytime soon.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst x reader #Jade #Jade leech #Jade x reader #Jade leech x reader #yandere Jade #yandere Jade x reader #yandere Jade leech x reader #yandere Jade leech #protection potion ♦️#inspired by that one voice line of Jade that goes #‘I used to think you were a rather dull human… oh don’t be mad. I don’t think that way anymore’#or something along those lines #and we all know Jade’s rather fond of… documenting things #perhaps it’s a habit beaten into him #being the vice housewarden and all #looking up names #keeping track of azul’s financial deals #updating student weaknesses #so he might just bring that documenting mentality to his.. darling #no?

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eroguron0nsense · 4 months

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Garp Rant #11543

Because I'm something of a Certified Garp Hater/extremely obsessed with this man, and because Tumblr people seem to like my Garp takes and/or find them extremely pain-inducing, here's another one for funsies! Again, Garp is an incredibly written character and I massively enjoy his moral failings and human shortcomings, hence why I won't shut up about how much he sucks. So we all remember Garp crying in front of Ace during his imprisonment and awaiting his execution, lamenting the fact that his son and grandson could have maybe avoided this horrible horrible fate that awaits them at Marineford if they'd just become good marines like he'd tried to press them into. Every time he says it, he sounds more desperate, sadder, and angrier, like he's experiencing the stages of grief and going through denial, anger bargaining all at once, lashing out at his grandkids for supposedly causing him grief by defying his wishes, or maybe praying or wishing for a world where they could have followed in his footsteps and lived happily ever after. And when Ace hears that again at Impel Down, he says this:

Here's the thing though: Ace is unequivocally correct Garp should, by all rights, know this. He lived through the fallout of Roger's execution. He knew long before that exactly what would happen to Roger's loved ones and anyone the government could get their hands on who'd ever associated with him. Even before they started committing femicides/infanticides in Baterilla trying to end Roger's bloodline, he knew that the Marines were going to target completely innocent people in the name of purging the bloodline and cementing their "victory" over the greatest threat they'd ever faced. He specifically had to smuggle Rouge out of there so she could give birth to Ace, and all the while dozens of families were being brutalized by his peers and having their lives torn apart. That was the cost the Marines were willing to incur to kill a hypothetical infant, and years later, when that very same child is set to be executed, Sengoku goes on a remorseless public tirade about the necessity of killing babies and the horrible trickery and audacity Rouge displayed by dying so that they wouldn't kill her baby too.

Garp knows every single piece of this information in painful, excruciating detail. He's so horrified by it he feels the need to fulfill this wish of Roger's because he knows blameless people will die. He has Ace raised in secret to protect him from Marines who are figuratively and literally out for his blood. And yet, throughout this boy's childhood, he clings to the notion that maybe, just maybe, the people he knows regularly commit atrocities, who have carried out at least 3 genocides that we know of in Garp's lifetime, who were willing to commit mass infanticide for a woman and child they hadn't verified the existence or identity of at the time, would have accepted him within their ranks and turned a blind eye to that information when it eventually, inevitably surfaced. That Ace can find salvation from the people who stole every loved one he ever had before he was even born, who slaughtered his mother's community and pushed her to her death, and were slavering at the opportunity to kill her. That even though Ace was born in direct opposition to them, has had a target trained on him before he was born, these people who tried so goddamn hard to kill him would surely welcome his presence and not murder him the second they found out if he could just be a compliant model soldier and make himself useful. It's hammered home pretty effectively–especially in the manga– and One Piece has never been known to be subtle in its messaging, but I swear to God I see so many people echoing the notion that Garp's attempts to force his grandchildren into serving the Evil Empire was done because he knew was their only shot at safety from the WG, and I fucking despise this take. Ace saying that he could never be a marine here in Impel Down isn't some young man's rationalization for his (beyond valid) desire not to subscribe to the preset path Garp laid out for him; it's literally the only logical conclusion if you know literally anything about the circumstances of his birth and upbringing, and Garp only thinks that the leopards wouldn't eat Ace's face because he's fucking delusional This in and of itself is extremely telling of how horribly warped Garp's perception of the Navy is, and how deeply he's willing to buy into the Marines and their warped propaganda no matter how many glaring examples he sees throughout his life that counter his worldview, but let's not forget that this applies to Luffy too. This is slightly hairier, in that if Luffy was a) the sort of person who could willingly accept a career in the marines and b) managed to cling really, really tightly to his grandfather's coattails and legacy, there might have been a very, infinitesimally small chance that he could have joined the Navy. The higher ups know that Dragon is Garp's son and therefore Luffy is Dragon's by logical inference, but I could see some AU where Luffy is a fundamentally different person and manages to build himself up in the Navy if not for two things I think warrant examination. It's pretty evident, and Dragon explicitly confirms, that Luffy being known as his son would have put him in incredible danger, only feeling comfortable with acknowledging it and the possibility of actually reuniting with his child after Luffy was both publicly recognized due to factors beyond his control, and proved that he was more than capable of holding his own. But I want to draw attention to this one otherwise pretty silly little gag moment between Garp and Sengoku when they learn that Luffy's broken into Impel Down, and present a theory that's kind of a reach but also not really

Now the phrasing here kind of interests me, in that it ties back to earlier demonstrated patterns that the Navy uses repeatedly in collective punishment for the families and loved ones of their primary targets. Rouge and Ace barely escaped the mass murders intended for them because of their connection, but Tom was also originally sentenced to death for having had a connection to Roger, and ultimately chose that as the offence he wanted to be sentenced for at Enies Lobby. Law, as a child survivor of Flevance, has multiple hospitals try and turn him in to the World Government to be killed when Cora tries to find someone to treat him because their policy is to pull out the roots and salt the earth whenever they deem a person or population politically inconvenient. Robin's flashback shows us Akainu blowing up a refugee boat on the off chance that one of those people that they were planning to evacuate might have gotten past their initial screening for archaeologists/poneglyph readers. At Marineford, Akainu specifically targets Luffy not because of his prior offences or even his attempt to rescue Ace, but because he's Dragon's son and his and Roger's bloodlines need to be eradicated. This is not an institution that is in any way reluctant to destroy anyone tangentially affiliated to a designated enemy, and Luffy being the son of the worst criminal in history seems to put him right in line with all of those other cases. In light of this, and Garp's massive blind spots and wishful thinking regarding his peers and employers, it's not that much of a stretch to assume that the only reason Garp's exempt from being targeted like Dragon is because of his popularity/symbolic importance/utility, and that Luffy likely wouldn't have been safe even if he weren't a pirate. Garp's circle of confidantes/friends in high places is powerful, but clearly there are factions (Akainu, Ryokugyu etc) that would be substantially less willing and who are given preferential treatment by the Elders and Celestial Dragons. There might be something to read into based on the fact that Garp is the only known person from a D bloodline who's achieved massive success in service to the World Government and not defected from the Navy after realizing its true nature (props to Saul), and therefore he might project the fact that he's been rewarded by the system despite being a "sworn enemy of the Gods" onto his family, but that still doesn't account for the massive, delusional arrogance he displays in insisting that, despite everything–especially, especially the murders committed in pursuit of Ace, that robbed him of his birth mother and community–the Navy is the best and safest place for either of those boys. TLDR Garp not wanting his grandsons to have a bounties on their heads is one thing, but it says a lot that in spite of everything he knows, he's willing/determined to put Ace and Luffy in an environment that's extremely dangerous for them –and in Ace's case 100%, unquestionably fatal– because he's so convinced that compliance and the platonic ideals of "justice" and military service/hard work being rewarded by the system could supersede all of that.

#monkey d luffy #one piece #portgas d ace #marineford #trafalgar law #trafalgardwaterlaw #nico robin #monkey d garp #monkey d dragon #sengoku the buddha #akainu sakazuki #admiral akainu #portgas d rouge #marineford arc #one piece spoilers #op spoilers #jaguar d. saul

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ghostfaceorgirlfriend · 1 year

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Someone Else ; Ethan Landry

summary: you had been holding onto your relationship with chad, afraid to let go even though you both had feelings for other people, but now that you’ve reached your breaking point you are ready to move on

pairing(s): Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader, Chad Meeks-Martin x Fem!Reader (mostly past tense)

warnings: angst, breakups, crying, angst, fluff, not proofread, possibly ooc ethan, chad kinda being an ass, kissing.

notes: if only he wasn’t literally psychotic lmao, but we are just gonna pretend for this one guys…

no ghostface/non-ghostface ethan

2k words

masterlist requests

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This was your last straw.

You were currently standing outside of the library in the pouring rain. The building had closed over 30 minutes ago, yet Chad had yet to pick you up as he had promised. You tried calling him, but after the third time, you gave up, letting out a sigh.

The truth was that you and Chad should have broken up months ago. You both knew this, yet neither one of you had taken the final step, never daring to cross over that line and into unfamiliar territory.

Although you fought most of the time, and you barely even wanted to touch each other, it was still familiar.

It was safe.

You don’t know why you had even expected Chad to show up. A part of you thought you owed it to yourself to try one last time with him. You had been through so much together, and he was all you had known for the past two years.

Though as you stood in the rain, shivering from the cool New York breeze you tried to be honest with yourself.

Not only had you and Chad drifted away from each other since you moved to college, but you also had both developed feelings for someone else.

You saw the way Chad looked at Tara. He was happy, and you couldn't blame him.

You had simply fallen out of love with each other and fallen into the hands of other people.

You felt like you were finally accepting that, and as if on cue Chad's name lit up on your phone screen.

“Hello.” You answered, your voice calmer than Chad had been expecting.

“I-I just remembered I was supposed to pick you up!” His voice sounded tired and you could hear the faint sound of a girl in the back.

It wasn’t hard for you to connect the dots…he had fallen asleep at Tara’s.

“Chad, what are we even doing?” You couldn't hold it together anymore.

You were both miserable.

There was a long silence on the other end as Chad processed your words.

“W-What are you talking about.” he knew exactly what you had meant.

You slowly shook your head in frustration, “We fight all the time and can barely stand being around each other. You spend more time at Tara’s than you do at your own dorm and I-” you paused for a moment, debating if you should bring up Ethan.

“And you're always with Ethan.” Chad finished your sentence.

Tears pricked your eyes and you almost laughed at how stupid this all felt, “Why are we torturing ourselves by staying together when we both love someone else?” you could begin to feel a weight lift from your chest as the words slipped past your lips.

Chad knew you were right.

“You really love him?” His voice was gentle, and you knew he wasn't upset.

“Yes, and I know you love her.” A tear rolled down your cheek, mixing with the rain that was still falling down onto your face.

You could hear Chad take a deep breath, “We should both let ourselves be happy then. We deserve happiness.”

Despite what the tears on your cheeks might say, you weren't sad.

You were relieved.

“We do.” the weight had almost been completely lifted off your chest, “Goodbye Chad.”

You hit the end button and suddenly there was no weight left to bear. Your tears were gone and the only thing you had on your mind was calling Ethan.

You didn't waste any time before you clicked on his contact. It had only taken a few rings before you heard his voice.

“Hey, everything okay?” You could hear the subtle concern that wrapped its way around his tone given how late it was.

For the first time in months, you felt like you could genuinely answer the question. You were more than okay. You were free.

“Yeah, I'm okay,” a cold shiver ran down your body, “I know it's late, but could you come to pick me up? I’m outside of the library and it's pouring rain and I'd rather not walk home in the dark. Chad was supposed to come but-” you weren't even able to finish your sentence before Ethan was interrupting you.

“I’m on my way.” You could hear the disappointment in his voice.

He hated these nights. Ethan would come to your rescue and piece you back together just so you could fall back into the same routine the next day. He didn't mind being there for you, but it was getting increasingly hard to push down the feelings that surfaced every time he was around you.

All he wanted was for you to be happy…with him.

It was only a few minutes before you could see the headlights on Ethan's car approach the front of the library.

“Thank god.” you whispered to yourself as you weren't sure how much longer you were going to last in the cold.

Your whole body had been shivering by the time you were opening the car door, though you hesitated before getting in.

“I-I don’t wanna get water on your seats.” Your clothes were soaking wet and you were sure it would leave a mess in the nice car.

As soon as he saw your shivering figure standing at the door of the car he could feel anger start bubbling up within him.

He would never understand how Chad just seemed to forget about you most of the time, and he wasn’t sure why you continued to take it.

“Get in, I don't care about the seats.” His voice came out a bit rougher than he intended.

You tried not to overthink the unusual roughness that his voice held as you got into the car and closed the door.

Ethan quickly turned the heat up in the car, hoping it would help you stop shivering, but it wasn't much good as your clothes were still freezing cold.

“Thanks for coming.” You felt a sudden nervousness you had never felt around the boy before.

Ethan tried to take a calming breath, but he couldn't shake the fact that he was upset. Seeing you like this, a shivering mess in his car, made him want to go find Chad himself and knock some kind of sense into him.

“It's fine.” The frustration he was feeling seeped into his words.

You could now clearly tell that he was upset and you understood why. He was stuck cleaning up Chad's mess, and up until this point you had fallen right back into your relationship every time, no matter what Chad had said or done.

As he pulled his car back by his dorm building, you wanted nothing more than to tell him what had happened before he arrived.

You wanted to tell him that you and Chad had ended things and that you loved him. However, no matter how hard you tried, every time you saw the hard expression on his face the words couldn't seem to make their way past your lips.

You silently followed Ethan up to his dorm.

It wasn’t until you had both stepped inside that Ethan finally spoke again.

“I’ll get you some clean clothes.” He avoided eye contact, afraid that if he were to look at you then he would say something he couldn't take back.

You didn't say anything, but instead just waited until he handed the clothes to you.

Without another word, you made your way into the bathroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror and the sight certainly wasn't pretty.

You had dried mascara running down your cheeks and your hair had seen better days.

You peeled off the wet clothes and placed them in the shower, hoping they would dry overnight.

You quickly threw on the clothes Ethan had brought you before washing the black streaks of mascara off your face and brushing out your tangles.

Meanwhile, Ethan was sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands.

He felt like everything he had been feeling for the past 4 months had come to the surface and refused to go back down. He wanted to tell you how he felt, but he wasn't sure he was prepared to face the consequences that would come after his confession.

“E?” Your gentle voice filled the air in his bedroom, making him look up, finally making eye contact with you.

“I can’t keep doing this, Y/n. I-I can’t keep watching you go back to him. I jus-” You stopped him before he could stay anything else.

You were now sitting beside him on the bed, “Ethan,” you gently laced your fingers together with his, “We broke up. It's over.”

His eyes were wide and confusion filled his entire body, “W-What?”

You gave his hand a tight squeeze, “We fell out of love a long time, okay, I guess we were just both scared to let go,” you carefully chose your next words, “We both have feelings for someone else…I have feelings for someone else.”

Ethan felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest.

“You do?” suddenly he was hyper-aware of the feeling of your hand in his.

"I love you, and I'm sorry it's taken so long for me to tell you that. I’ve dragged you along for so much shit, and it hasn't been fair to you” Your own heart felt like it might explode.

You were terrified of the words that were going to come next. You were terrified you might lose your best friend and that it was too late.

You hoped you had not missed your window.

“I love you too.” A smile found its way onto his face as the words hung in the air.

He loved you

“I’m gonna kiss you now.” You let out a soft laugh before you brought your lips to his. Ethan followed your lead, unsure of what exactly to do.

Warmth blossomed in your chest as your lips moved tentatively together. His lips were warm and soft as they parted slightly, allowing your tongue to slip past his lips and into his mouth. You both let out a satisfied hum at the sensation.

You wished you could stay like this forever, but you knew you would eventually have to come up for air so you slowly pulled away, lips pink and swollen.

Your heart had never felt more full than it did at this moment.

“W-Was that okay?” Ethan asked nervously.

You brought your hand up to his face, rubbing your thumb across his cheek, “It was perfect.”

Relief washed over his face as he laughed at his own awkwardness.

“Who knew you'd be such a good kisser.” You smiled jokingly.

“Shut up.” He playfully rolled his eyes at you before pulling you down onto the bed next to him.

It only took a few minutes for exhaustion to creep its way into your body, and you could barely hold your eyes open by the time Ethan had pulled the covers over you both and turned you over so you could lay on his chest.

“I love you.” Ethan whispered before planting a soft kiss on the top of your head.

A tired smile formed on your lips, “I love you too, E.”

Between the rhythmic beating of Ethan's heart and his thumb gently rubbing circles on your arm, sleep came quickly.

The last thought crossing your mind before slipping into unconsciousness was that you had finally gotten the happiness you deserve.

All because of him.

#scream #scream vi #ghostface #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x you #jack champion

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kangmoon27 · 8 months

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Womanizer | Jungkook oneshot

Pairing: Womanizer Phycho Fboy Jungkook x Yn

Summary: He's known for being a womanizer who always go around with different girls and apparently you became one of those girls that he only see as one nightstand.

He's a very successful mostly handsome womanizer in his generation. He's known for his crazy charm that always make girl growing over him.

He's young, handsome, rich but arrogant. He couldn't stay with the same woman even for a whole week. He easily get bored. It will be lucky if a girl stayed with him for 3 days.

Well that's just how he is. He used womans to satisfy his needs at the same time making them his toys that if he gets bored then throw it away. He mostly only do one nightstand and he never believes that he would even fall or even capable of doing that cause for him it will be a miracle.

But can you change that? Can you change him? Well definitely not but you wanted to. Yes he already meet you. You're supposed to be his one nightstand just like the other but unfortunately after a week you guys meet again and as you expected the moment you woke up he's no longer next to you and already seen him with other girls.

You're dumb, literally dumb mostly because you made yourself a fool for him. Totally a fool that you always follow him around everywhere he goes. You became his creepy stalker but what can you do. You can't just tell your heart to not love him cause it's impossible. He's Jeon Jungkook everyone likes him including you.

Even tho you knew he doesn't like the way you're following him around you still wanted him to give you a chance to prove yourself even tho you're already making yourself look like a crazy fool lovesick girl.

He pin you on the wall, eyes burning in anger, those dark odds he owns wanted to eat you alive. It's scary, yes but for the sake of your heart and love for him you're ready to be eaten alive mostly if he's the one who's going to eat you.

"How many times do I have to tell you huh? Stay fcking away from me!! Do this one more time then I'll make sure you will roatin jail!!" As he was about to leave you grab his hand again and get down on your knees.

"Please just give me a week then if you really didn't want me then I'll step aside and let you have your peace, just please." You're on your knees crying, begging him to accept you. You're a highly paid model but you don't care about your reputation anymore as long as you will have him in the end of the day.

Jungkook really think you're crazy. You're literally embarrassing yourself Infront of everyone by trying to get his attention and now even kneeling Infront of him. He surly is enjoying his moment right now while you're begging him to accept you.

This is truly fun and he's liking it but as much as he wanted to embarrass you more he just can't let you ruined his night while he's literally having fun with a pretty chick he was with earlier before you came.

"You're shameless, look at you. You're looking like a pathetic fool, go on continue embarrassing yourself but don't include me" he pushed your hand making you sat on the ground crying mess.

With your crystals eye cause by your tears you watch his figure walking away from you. All you want is for him to give you a chance why I'd it so hard for him?.

Someone hug you from the back and made you stand up. You look at him and saw your manager standing there looking at you with worried expression.

"Yn~ please don't do this, stop yourself just embarrassing yourself, please let's go now." You tried to free yourself from him but failed. You're shouting Jungkook's name while your manager picked you up out of the club.

1 year later

"You're so good" The man couldn't help but to keep on praising her on how good she feels like. He feels like heaven even tho devils like him doesn't even belong there. He really really is enjoying every inch of her as he thrust hard. Tears escape from her eyes because of too much pleasure but she surly wants more. She wants more from him.

"Faster sir. Need more. Give me more" she moaned, she groan, she sob while feeling him deep in her. She feels so filled up and she is totally enjoying his touch that he's giving her. He pulled her hips to the sky and fcked her hard. Pounding on her like a beast he is.

"I am coming too fck! YN! Fck!" As he held you tight he released himself inside your warmth "Gosh baby stop I can't stop cumming ugh fck!" He keeps on groaning while feeling himself getting bigger and harder.

"That was so good" the man said before laying down on the floor together with the woman while breathing heavily.

"Yes it is good but seems like you're thinking about someone else while fcking me." The girl softly chuckles before getting up and started wearing her clothes.

"Wth! Impossible! I'm literally complimenting you alot Jade!!" The boy couldn't understand what's happening he also stood up as he picked up his boxer and pants on the couch. Jade came towards him and peak his cheek before shaking her head and chuckles.

"Think clearly. It wasn't my name that you're m'aning earlier Kook. Bye." After that she left him. Jungkook groan out of frustration after realizing what's happening.

"Sh't sh't sh't get her out of your head Jungkook she's gone!! Totally gone!!" He keep on hitting his head while pulling his hair hard.

"Ughhh!! Why are you doing this to me!!! I hate you!! Why are you so cruel!!." He fell on the ground crying. How can you be so cruel and left him being all miserable.

"Finally you're here!!, Sorry Kook I couldn't stay here for tonight I have important thing to fix. Naeun is in her room sleeping okay. I really really have to go now."

Jungkook sigh watching his sister leaving the house. He immediately fell on the couch closing his eyes tight. "I knew it's really a bad decision agreeing with you. Now look at me. You left me all alone."

Yes Jungkook accepted you. The week being together turned weeks and the weeks turned month. He never admitted that he likes you nor you trying to stop him from being a womanizer but you just need each other's company.

You will came home to each other after a long day till you actually get pregnant. It was one of the unexpectedly thing that happened but that just made Jungkook realize that he loves you. And even planned on marrying you after you give birth to your child but things don't go as planned.

Jungkook finds out you're cheating on him. Not totally cheating cause both of you are like in a open relationship. You can be with anyone that you wanted while same goes to him but when Jungkook finds out you're going out with someone else he was furious.

That turned into a huge argument that lead you both from falling apart with you actually decided to leave him but sadly you got into a car accident. It was tragic. You did not survive and now Jungkook is missing you so bad. He keeps on blaming himself. He shouldn't have bring that fight if only he knew he would lose you.

He sigh and walk to his daughters room. He's amaze by her beauty. He always see you in her and because of that he made a promise to himself that he would do anything and everything just to keep Naeun stay with him and never leave his side.

"I love you baby" he smiled and peak his daughter's forehead before walking out and went inside his room. He grab a book from the shelves as he press the button. The secret door open up while he went inside.

"Ugh I meet this girl, her name is Jade. She's pretty, hot, everything but I didn't realize that even tho how good she made me feels I still keep on looking for your touch and feels." He laughed while looking at your photo. Pocking his inner cheek before turning around and took the glass of alcohol from the night stand.

He stared at you who's shaking in fear. You look so beautiful that he just couldn't help but to fall in love again. He never said he's in love with you but he will make you feel that and he will make sure that you will stay with him for the rest of your life and to be able to do that he took something from you that will prevent you from leaving him.

"Baby. I gooddamn miss your legs. Those milky legs. Too bad I took them off but at least you can never run away again right. We will be happy family. You, me and naeun. A complete family just like what we both wanted."

He smile while caressing your cheek. You tried to shout for help but you just couldn't. He removed the cloth on your mouth and you started shouting. He got furious and slap you.

"Don't stop you're irritating me!!" He grab you hair and smashed his l'ps on yours.

Idk why I made this:( it's a trash but I just really wanted to upload something so forgive me 😭

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writingreadinglurkingandsmirking · 9 months

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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

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!

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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woosaaghh · 4 months

Text

Spoilers for Wyll's story!

I'm so fucked up about Wyll's storyline. He has quite literally never made a selfish choice in his life. He exudes goodness in almost every interaction the player has with him. His kindness is infectious, his optimism is overwhelming. He spends every moment thinking of how to help others simply because he thinks it's the right thing to do. He's been that way since he was a boy, going so far as to be entrapped by Mizora into trading his soul to save Baldur's Gate. He's 17 years old and has never made a selfish decision in his life, but his father can't give him so much as the benefit of the doubt. He makes a life for himself as a savior of the people, and then gets kidnapped by mindflayers and infected with a mindflayer tadpole and his immediate reaction is "Whelp guess I'd better go help these tiefling refugees near where I crash landed from this spaceship."

In my playthrough I saved Florrick with Wyll, speaking with him made her choose not to give up and hold on to hope, she thanked him for helping her see it wasn't too late. What a lovely interaction. That night we spoke to Mizora and she offered Wyll his freedom, I told him to take it. The next day when I entered the city the same Florrick came and literally spat at my Tav's feet, told me that she was there for Wyll's head because Mizora said he killed his father because he was mad with power. The man who saved her life THE DAY PRIOR.

No one in this damned game other than the tadfools are ever willing to give Wyll the benefit of the doubt, nothing he could ever do would be worth them having faith in him. He accepts his banishment as his father doing what he believed was right and never resents him for it, still loves and misses him. He takes on Mizora's punishment for not killing Karlach without flinching because he knows what he did was right and Karlach deserves to live. At the tiefling party he isolates himself to keep from making others uncomfortable with his devilish appearance. And he's so alone: no mother, his father abandoned him, he has been travelling alone for the past 8 years just helping whoever he sees in need of it. Then, when you go through the steps of saving his father, that ass is willing to make Wyll a villain again, until Tav steps in and shares their memories. You needed a stranger to show you all of this to believe your own child wasn't evil incarnate? Was it not enough to have known him, did you ever even actually see your boy when he was in front of you?? Or was he just something to be molded and thrown away when you thought he didn't turn out right?

As someone who grew up closeted and still am to my relatives outside of my immediate family Wyll's tragedy hits far too close to home for me, the idea that no matter who you show that you are or what you do, the people you love the most, who are supposed to love you, are willing to drop you immediately and take back their love because of a single fact about you, without ever trying to understand more.

Wyll's story may not be as hard of a life as some of the others, but it messes me up in a way I hadn't expected. I wish Wyll had more story, and I wish I could use the tadpole to mentally berate and verbally eviscerate Ulder Ravengard for 30 real life minutes about how no matter how honorable and just he may be seen as in the eyes of the people of Baldurs Gate that he'll always be a failure of a man and a father.

(Also, I understand that they all have grounds in reality: terminal illnesses, chronic pain, indoctrination, physical and sexual abuse. But for the severe lack of Wyll content in the game you sort of have to read between the lines for it to hit as hard as it did me, it just made me wish there was more exploration of Wyll's feelings in game.)

#wyll ravengard #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate iii #the blade of frontiers #the blade of avernus #my post

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evilcowgirl · 1 year

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eeekkk hii!! I saw u were open for requests so I figured I'd send one :)) ur writing is so good it's criminal ngl. Could I get something with their s/o getting into a fight + some fluff after with javi, arthur, and Kieran, if you write for him? If not, that's good too!!

pairings: javier, kieran, arthur (x reader)

a/n: for my fav mutual !!!! this literally took forever bc im high school lol !! loveeedd this idea sm thank u for the request :D first time writing kieran i hope i did okay + some of these r kinda toxic so warning ! specifically javier but i hc him as emotionally immature amen

warnings: angst (arguing)

word count: 5.4k combined

summary: collection of short stories, getting into an agreement w/their s/o and some comfort afterwards

Javier:

You and Javier were indisputably infatuated with each other. Seeing one of you without the other could only mean that someone was looking for the other. You kept him by your side just as much as he kept you. Right next to his gun, there was you; you were even more dependable.

Between the two of you was a fiery passion that hadn't stopped blazing since you met. His loyalty to you was the only match for his loyalty to the gang, though you never felt the need to test it. He showed you everyday how treasured you were.

In the past few days you've been working harder than usual, Grimshaw even taking notice to how busy you've been which was saying something. You scrubbed clothes until your finger pruned and felt numb, not giving Tilly anything to work on when you were done. You'd even offered to take over on chopping vegetables for Sadie, which she gladly accepted. Anytime you weren't moving was time to think about Javier and how he wasn't where he should be each night, in your shared tent next to you. Books offered no real comfort regardless of how many Mary-Beth urged you to borrow to calm your nerves. The romance in them always painfully dragged your mind back to him. The nights were colder and the days drew on like you'd never known was possible. You couldn't help but give Dutch a bit of a cold shoulder around camp knowing that he was the reason that your love stayed away so often as of late. He didn't seem to notice though, his head was often in the clouds now.

You'd endured seven tiresome days and six lonely nights when Javier finally returned along with Bill. They were both relatively clean based of their appearance, Javier more than Bill to no one's surprise, with bags attached to their horses that were being unfastened by Dutch and Hosea as they got off their horses.

"Javier!" You squealed out, tossing Mary-Beths copy of Jane Austen's Persuasion into her lap haphazardly. You bumped into a few people on your way, mumbling quick sorries as you went.

"Querida, I missed you terribly!" Javier expressed. When he heard your voice he immediately perked up and forgot how exhausted he was in an instant.

He wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you close to him as you walked into camp, leaving the horses to be tended to by Kieren after their hard work.

"I missed you even more, I've been bored to death without you." You tell him and he kisses your temple in response.

"I'm here now."

You were relieved to have him back, but that feeling only lasted for so long. By the time Javier had the time to tell you of his travels with Bill the last few days, have a good meal, and rest for the night he was already being threatened to be taken from you again.

You were woken up to the strategic shuffling of clothes against skin. You could tell that he was trying to be quiet with his movements but it still woke you up; you couldn't feel his warmth next to you anymore. You watched silently as he buttoned his top and pulled his boots on, not speaking until he was halfway out of the tent.

"Where are you going?" You asked. As he pulled back the fabric of the tent you could just barely see the slight glow of the early morning.

He stopped, his hand dropping as he turned and looked at you apologetically. He looked less like a child caught doing something they knew he shouldn't be, a look you'd grown to recognize from him, and more like a dog being recalled to its owner after misbehaving. Still guilty nonetheless. He kneeled down at the cot you still laid on, quietly waiting for a response as he ran a hand over your exposed arm.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"Where were you off to?" You asked again.

"I—uhm, have something to do, I won't be gone too long. You go back to sleep." He says vaguely and leans forward to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. As he does you turn your head away from him, causing him to look at you with these hurt eyes that you regret causing instantly.

"Why can't Dutch send someone else this time? You only just got back and now you're leaving again." You say firmly. You sit up in the cot, now fully awake and flushed with annoyance.

"I know, my love, Dutch isn't the one who you should be upset with, I'm not being sent by anyone but myself. Micha has been getting this together for some time now and asked me to join him, and I am." He notices the way your eyes narrow at the mention of Micha and says the last part as if to solidify it. To make it known that it's final.

"Haven't you done enough? I mean, it's not like you're the only one Micha could have help, there's Charles and John and even Sadie!"

"I'm doing this for all of us. I'm coming because he wanted me to come, now keep your voice down, no need to wake everyone up." He says getting up from his kneel, "I don't have time to argue, we leave soon."

"Then let me come." You say desperately. You push off the sheet covering your legs and stand in front of him.

"You know I can't let you." Is all he says as he grabs his gun belt.

He leaves you alone with your thoughts once again and it doesn't take you long to decide that this wasn't the end of it. You never trusted Micha to be alone with Javier, you knew that if it came down to it that Micha would leave Javier to die rather than risk himself like any decent man. Outside of your tent no one else can be seen yet, it can't be too much past four and after all of the drinks passed around the night before a late morning is to be expected. You march you way to Javier, still barefoot through the grass. He doesn't look up to acknowledge you, he simply continues packing his supplies into his bag with his eyes never meeting yours. It's as if you're not even standing there.

"You're so stubborn!" You finally say. You feel yourself getting worked up. Your fists clenching in desperation as you walk closer to him. "I wish you would just listen to me for once. I don't have not one good feeling about this and you just barely got back." You say to him and he finally looks at you. At this point you know for a fact that there's no backtracking what you'd started.

"And this is because you don't trust Micah?That's why you're throwing a fit like a little girl."

It was partly true. You and Micah had never gotten along, but then again neither had he and Javier in the beginning. You saw straight through his front. His intentions weren't quite clear to you yet, but you knew that they weren't pure. That was the only thing that stopped you from going to Dutch about the whole thing.

"All that Micah is good for is stroking egos and getting other people into his messes. How dare I worry for the man that I love!" He shrugs you off, scoffing.

"You don't know what you're talking about." It hurts to hear him dismiss you like that, someone who was usually eager to listen to your every thought.

"I know well enough. Please, Javier, I'm begging you to stay." You knew that your words would have some sort of effect on him, he was always weak for only you. You watched as his expression changed into something thoughtful but still just as harsh. He knew now that you really were scared for him but he felt that you had no reason to be. He'd rather scream and yell at each other than hear you beg, the sound of your voice pleading to him filled him with guilt.

"Maybe I should just drop everything hm?" He asks.

"What?" You ask, you're confusion and anger displayed so obviously on your face.

"You told me when I brought you into this—me prometiste, that you understood."

"And I do! I always have how could you doubt that after so long?" It'd been years since he allowed you to join the rest of the gang. You'd been welcome for much longer but he was protective and wanted to keep you far from that aspect of his life. It was apart of him that you made the choice to love and accept like the rest of him.

"Everything that I do is for us—to keep you safe. We need the money."

"You can't keep me safe if you're dead." You deadpanned. It had always been a fear of yours but especially after Micah joined.

"It's unfortunate that everyone can't make their keep by sewing clothes and flirting all day."

Your eyes widened in disbelief as you stepped forward, "You know that's not true just as well as I do."

"Oh do I, amor?" He says in a mocking tone, sweet as pure cane, "I see how you walk around camp, how you talk to the men." He says to you in a low voice now that you've gotten so close. His body is still tense as he mutters into your ear. You know he's trying to push your buttons and is succeeding.

"You're being ridiculous."

"Maybe I am, maybe it's more than flirting? You don't seem to trust my judgment anymore who's to say your loyalty hasn't grown weak too?"

"You're pathetic," You say to him.You don't mean it, you both know that but in the moment of passion your words have no other purpose but to be filled with venom.

"Yeah?" He says nodding, egging you on.

"You're too stubborn to just admit that I'm right, you'd rather make a fool of yourself. Micah doesn't mean you well, he's leading you somewhere that I won't follow you to."

"So then you'll leave me? For trying to help us, you'll leave me."

You'd never seen him mad like this, his eyes were dark with adrenaline and you could tell he was only becoming agitated with your silence. It was a fearsome sight, Javier was already an intimidating man to everyone else, but for the first time you we're feeling nervous under his presence.

"niña estúpida, morirías sin mi." His words are venomous when they strike your skin, you feel yourself shrinking. You flinch at the harshness of his voice and words. He's never spoken to you like that before, so overcome with emotion, you stand still in disbelief.

At seeing the genuine fear in your eyes as you looked at him,you out of all people, his rage disintegrated in front of you. Tears were stinging your eyes, just daring to fall but you wouldn't let them. You couldn't have him see how weak you really were for him behind your front. Looking away seemed like the safest option as you couldn't quite read him with how you're vision blurred over, you just silently hoped that he wasn't even more upset at seeing you like this.

Javier took a step towards you, slow and purposeful with his movements and you didn't move away. When he saw that you weren't planning on running from him he inched his way closer to you, like a hunter approaching a scared doe. His hands met your shoulders first, hesitant yet eager, then all of the sudden bringing you towards him in one swift movement.

You were unsettled still, your heart beating out of your chest and making you feel dizzy. His hands around your body felt foreign with you so far away from your mind.

"I'm so sorry, amor. . . I was wrong. I never meant to scare you." Javier said, his voice breaking.

His declared beloved, the one he imagined whatever he had left of forever with. What kept his thoughts grounded and sent him into dreamlike states all at once. Seeing your tears finally fall, or actually feeling them warm against his neck, and knowing that he had been the cause of him cut him much deeper than any blade he'd encountered.

"Please forgive me, this was all my fault. I should never have spoken to you like that." He says, "Amor. . ."

“It's alright.” You tell him, “You didn't mean it.”

He shook his head, not knowing what to say.

Things are quiet after the fight.

You both returned to your tent afterwards guided by Javier's tight latch on your hand. Micah asked about what was going on with Javier having packed his things back away without a word. He'd simply responded by saying you weren't feeling well, expecting that to be more than enough of a reason. Javier was never one for letting people down or evading responsibility but he wasn't up for creating excuses.

"She was just fine a few hours ago, I'm sure she'll live without you for a couple more." Micah remarked condescendingly.

That was all it took for Javier's patience to reach it's limit. "She's ill, we're done with this conversation." The response he got back was a scoff.

You were a little surprised at hearing the exchange as apart of you was still expecting Javier to go. When he finally came back your delight was evident on your face, he came to your bedside again just like he'd done before and kissed your lips tenderly. You allowed him for your comfort and his.

"I'm sorry that we argued. I hate arguing with you." You said just above a whisper.

"Don't apologize, you did nothing wrong. It's me who was out of line" He said tilting his head to the side.

"Well it doesn't matter now. . .I'm just happy you're here." You said bringing his face towards yours again.

Kieran:

Kieran's natural state seemed to be underneath some form of authority. He was treated terribly when he found lodging by working for the O'Driscolls, which you could tell had left him quite insecure of himself. Still, there was a reminiscence of subservience to the men that he saw as superior. Ultimately he was happier to be at the camp with all of you. Being here was protection and stability.

You pitted him in the beginning, sneaking him food at night while the rest of the gang weren't looking. Seeing him tied up like that broke your heart as you knew he wasn't this degenerate rival that mostly everyone accepted him as.

After proving himself to be at the very least somewhat trustworthy and earning his freedom around camp, having Kieran around became a pleasure. It was obvious to everyone that he fancied you, he was never too good at lying. Nowadays the other men teased him about it more than they brought up that he used to be an O'Driscoll.

He'd sit next to you whenever he found you alone and not busy, keeping his distance like he was afraid to scare you away. It didn't take you too long to develop feelings for him in return. He was sweet and well mannered; he always spoke to you like he was in awe of having you in front of him. Even when you started dating that admiration never changed from both ends.

There was a special bond between you two that no one else seemed to understand. Arthur had stated it to your face numerous times that he didn't get what someone like you could see in that O'Driscoll, to which you told him that it was simply not for him to understand.

The camp was a safe haven compared to being left alone with his old gang after his head, and for this he was grateful. Still, it didn't change the fact that he would always be looked at as other for his past. For the last few weeks Kieran's mood has been all over the place to an exhaustive extent. You tried your hardest to comfort him the best you could, running your hands through his hair and suggesting he try bonding with the other men in the camp but it was to no avail.

A particularly cold night you found yourself drowsily reaching for him for warmth like you always did. Usually he'd offer you his blanket and cuddle up next to you, a gesture that never failed to warm your heart. You were suddenly wide awake at noticing his absence.

Peaking out of your tent you search around for your boyfriend. You shiver at the feeling of the cool air on your bare shoulders but crawl out anyway. You see Arthur and Bill by the glow of the campfire and walk towards them with your arms wrapped around yourself.

"Well look who's awake." Arthur says, offering you a beer. You shake you head, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

"Thanks but m'just lookin' for Kieran." You say.

There's still no sight of him as you look around.

"I saw him sneakin' out about an hour ago." Arthur says taking a sip from his bottle, "Go check over by the horses."

Kieran has always had a special connection to the horses. He knew so much about them, more than anyone you'd ever met before. One of the reasons he fell for you was how kind you were to the animals, it was refreshing to have someone around that was so pleasant with all of the chaos.

"Of course! Thanks Arthur."

Arthur was right as he usually was. Kieran was brushing Old Belle, detangling her mane like he'd probably done for a number of other horses before you found him.

"What are you doing up?" You say.

He jumps at the sound of your voice, startled at hearing another person.

"I should be askin' you that. It's late and it's cold so. . . you should just go back." He says trying to dismiss you.

"No, you snuck away from our tent in the middle of the night to come play with the horses?"

Kieran is silent for a moment and then puts his brush away. You furrow your brow at him as he politely walks around Taima, attempting to leave the confrontation. He does this a lot, tries to walk away from you at any sign of a disagreement. It's more frustrating than actually getting into a fight, which happens very rarely.

"You know it's rude to just walk away from someone when they're trying to talk to you!" You say grabbing his arm as he tries to shift past you.

"Can you keep it down?" He says in a hushed voice, "What do you care anyways."

You shake your head at him, "What do I care? Why wouldn't I? You've not been yourself for a while." You say.

"There's nothing wrong. I—I wish that you'd just leave me be." He says with a slight tremble in his voice, "I'm no good for you anyways. Everyone knows it; you even know it." He's not trying to walk away anymore but he's not making eye contact with you no matter how hard you try, which somehow feels even worse.

"Kieran. . ." You say, still his eyes stay on the ground in front of him. You wanted to think that this came out of nowhere but it didn't.

"Don't even try to disagree with me, 'cause I know you don't."

His cheeks and nose were pinkend by the harsh cool air and all you wanted was to bring him back to your cot and warm him up.

"I would never! I love you, you take care of me just as I do for you. You belong here just like the rest of us." You said.

"I—I love you too, I mean, you know that. It's just—I don't feel. . ." He trails off, his voice losing its confidence as he spoke.

You brought a hand to his chilly cheek to urge him on. The scruff there feeling familiar and comforting.

"I don't belong here like the rest of you, and I certainly don't deserve you. Miss Grimshaw knows it, Mister Morgan looks at me like—like I'm some kind of rodent."

You sighed at hearing the awful things that most likely plagued his mind all day. Your heart ached for him, no one appreciated him like you did but that wasn't enough.

"I'll talk to them." You say with a firm nod of your head, "I'll talk to everyone if I have to, let them know that when I'm not around to still treat you fair. It's only because of your past and you cant help that anymore than they can help theirs."

"No!" He said immediately, "I didn't mean to—to yell, but no. . .talking to 'em would only make it worse."

"I can't keep letting you get treated like this Kieran, they'll listen to me if I approach it right. They're not horrible people." You reason with him but he's still got that furrow browed-look on his face.

"Yeah sure. . ." He says but he still looks unsure, "I just wanna go back to bed right now. . ." He says.

"Yeah? Well let's go back to bed then." You say placing a kiss at his temple, "We'll talk more in the morning."

He nods unsurely, talking your hand as you both travel through camp back to your warm blankets and pillows. On the way there you pass Arthur and Bill again who seem to still be running through beers. You think to yourself that Arthur will be the one you speak with first, it seems the easiest since you two had always been close.

Back in your tent you hold each other close to warm up, pressing his head against your chest like you always did. When you both drift off it's an easy and light feeling, surrounded by each others love.

arthur:

A job gone wrong was no rare occurrence. It happened all the time, especially one as poorly planned as this. If you were being honest, you had no faith in the whole thing but it was in your best interest to keep

it to yourself. You had only been on a few jobs since joining the gang and never anything more intense than a petty robbery or posing as a distraction. When John proposed that you come with them on a proper scam doubting the probability of it all working out was the last thing on your mind.

Arthur voiced his doubts, of course, but you were in no position to side with him. You were desperate for your place along side the men and Sadie. To prove your worth went beyond a good pickpocket.

"I don't see why you need to tag along on this one." Arthur had said in that grumpy tone of his. He nearly pouted the whole way to valentine, trailing your horse so close that it had you nervous. Arthur was awfully protective; it was only a coping mechanism you came to figure out.

You'd been given a simple job, as John had put it, since it was your first time taking on something this dangerous. You were to distract the owners of a sizable homestead while John snuck in to search for whatever valuables they had inside. Arthur's duty was to be hidden somewhere close with an extra gun incase a problem arose.

The air was hash and chilly against your skin, making the tip of your nose distractingly numb as you stumbled over your words to the three men you were tasked with making acquaintances with. You were never this nervous; you'd lied before withe ease and never faltered once but now here you were being just about as suspicious as you could be. None of the men seemed to trust you—brothers you had learned, the eldest being the most aggressive and the one to do most of the talking. His attitude surely didn't help your pitiful performance as with each time he interrupted you or corrected you on your messy storytelling skills you felt yourself shrink.

"Ah yes well. . . I seem to be a bit confused. . . You see it was both my father and my dear brother who I've gotten separated from." You quickly tried to clean up the mess you made but it was too late. The three pairs of distrusting eyes looked over you unimpressed.

"I think you better get going now, as to not cause you anymore confusion." The eldest son said, stepping forward as his brothers stood firmly. You wondered why a man as capable as the one standing in-front of you would need two teenagers as backup but when you noticed their holsters you began to understand the dynamic much better.

"Oh sir, you couldn't turn me away just like that, could you? I'm lost and. . ." You looked over the man's shoulder to try and spot John through the fogged window but you could barely make him out. All you knew was that he was still in there and you were about to blow his chance of leaving discretely if you didn't think quickly.

"It'll only take a moment of your time, I'm just looking for the nearest station." You said, pleading the best you could with your trembling voice. John was taking much longer than you'd expected, your whole lost damsel shtick was only supposed to last a few minutes, five at most, just to catch their attention for a while but now you felt like the one being played.

"I think the lady here got a habit of being in places she don't belong." The one brother said. It was as if you weren't even standing there anymore.

"I think we best teach her a lesson." The oldest said. A sickening snarl in his voice that triggered your instinct to run. You couldn't though. There was a job to be done and you had to stand your ground until you couldn't anymore. You're eyebrows raised at the exchange and you hands fidgeted with the fabric of your skirt. As he stalked towards you the other two took their cue to hop over the banister, each standing at your side to surround you. You barely had time to react before you found yourself completely stuck. You gasped softly, looking around for any way to distance yourself from the men but you couldn't. It was hopeless.

"You done got all quiet now?" Confident steps across the wood of the porch were loud and made you flinch each time. "Don't be shy we're gonna get you that help you was begging for before." He says. You looked up at him with hesitant eyes, so close now it felt more real than it ever could have with a safe distance and knowing that John and Arthur weren't too far away. Now it was just you, these three men and open country.

When he reaches up to touch you, likely to brush a few strands of your hair back or provide some other unwanted touch, you can only imagine what was going through Arthurs mind. It all happens as quickly as you could blink. A loud sharp bang that was followed by two more pierced through the calm afternoon air. You were surrounded by bodies once again but this time you were completely alone. Splatters of red stained the wood of the house you stood in-front of. Where there once were men stood tall and confident in their ability to overpower you there were slumped corpses. It had all happened to fast for you to process it and you stood with your mouth unable to close, blinking eyes unfocused and staring at nothing.

A noticeably agitated "God dammit!" was heard from the direction you knew Arthur was hiding you. At hearing it you turn in search of him.

"Arthur!" You say, the name comes out of your mouth as sweet as a prayer.

You know he's upset but you can't help but feel relieved.

"What the hell was that?" John calls, pushing the door open as best as he could with his full hands, "This wasn't supposed to be no murder!" He scolds you as if you were the one with the gun.

"I didn't–" You try to defend yourself but he waves you off, "Ain't got time, we need to go now. There's no telling who's around that heard those gunshots." He's right, you nod.

It bothers you seeing John ride away on Old Boy knowing that he thinks you caused this whole mess due to carelessness but what bothers you even more is the absolute fury you see in the way Arthur's ridding towards you.

"Arthur I. . ." You trail off at seeing him walk right past you.

"You had one damn job, and an easy one at that!" He says, dragging the bodies into the house. He was careful to keep his hands clean and had no difficulty carrying the deadweight of the men like they were featherlight.

"I really did try! They weren't the kindest but I still could've gotten put of it if you had just given me the time." You said.

"Oh given you the time? The time to get yourself killed," He scoffed, "Now come on."

You huffed in frustration but followed as you'd been told to. Arthur still helped you mount his horse like he always did, silently lifting you up and then getting on himself. The ride was long and uncomfortable with how tense Arthur was. As you wrapped your arms around this torso you could feel the tension in his muscles.

He took you both straight to camp and once you were there he still didn't spare you a word. No one else knew that the job had gone wrong but the would soon enough. You felt embarrassed to be seen by the rest of the camp right now. It was irrational but you couldn't much help it. Instead of having a drink with your friends like you usually did most nights you followed Arthur into his tent.

Tentatively you pulled back the curtains, not sure what reaction to expect. Arthur was taking off his coat and unfastening a few of his shirts buttons. He didn't acknowledge you even though he knew you were there.

"Arthur I'm sorry things didn't go right back there." You said simply.

"Yeah me too." He said, you could hear the sarcasm in his voice. "I need a drink." He said out-loud, but it barely sounded directed at you. When he attempted to pass you you grabbed his hand , holding it in yours. "Please talk to me. I hate fighting with you."

"My word didn't seem to mean much to you before." He says and you feel every bit of guilt for it.

"I just wanted you to see me as capable."

"You sure proved yourself today."

"I said I could've handled it." You said, trying your best not to raise your voice. You'd never asked Arthur to swoop in and save you.

"You don't know men like I do, you should be thanking me on your hands and knees for saving you right now, but all I get is damn insolence." He growls at you. He nears closer to you as he speaks but you stand your ground.

Maybe he was right. Maybe you weren't ready like you'd thought and your place was here at camp, always waiting around on something more. You could ponder over it all you wanted but your pride wouldn't let you admit it out loud.

"You know how much I care about you. I couldn't live with myself if I let something happen to you, you know that." He said in a much softer tone.

"I know." You nodded. He'd told you so many times.

"Then stop fightin' me all the time."

To you it wasn't fighting, you just had something to prove. You let your head come to rest right against his chest and he wrapped his arms around you. You felt safe here, more than anywhere else.

"I only wanted to help. Like everyone else." You defended yourself once more.

"Sweetheart, we got enough crooks running with us, you don't have to put yourself in danger like that to help." He says, stroking your hair in a way that makes your eyes nearly roll back.

"Just let me keep you safe." He says right near your ear. His voice is a low rumble that sends a shiver down your spine.

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