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joonsytip · 4 months

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Withering for You || Seungcheol- Part 3

Pairings: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, CEO! Seungcheol au, Husband! Seungcheol au, Wife! Reader au, Music Teacher! Reader au, Arranged Marriage au, College Sweetheart au, Exes to Lovers au

Synopsis: When you are arranged married to the man, whose heart you had broken years ago, even dreaming about mending things seems next to impossible when he has been holding grudge for all these only to return it to you tenfold.

Warnings (specific to this part): suggestive, crying, profanities, love blooms, mentions of infidelity (doesn't happen to though), mention of alcohol consumption, betrayal, rock bottom, italics represents occurrences in past

Word Count: 6.4k

TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES IS CLOSED!

Banner credits to my baby @hoeforhao <3

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Seungcheol is distressed. He thinks something is wrong with you. Though he had dismissed all the previous occurrences, he can't do it anymore. You're distant nowadays. You don't kiss him goodbyes. You don't say the 'I love you's. You're always ditching him at any chance given. You don't let him sneak into your sheets.

The inseparable godly campus couple are barely seen together nowadays. The rumours are being spread. Some are worried, some are happy. Though you both had no secrets, Seungcheol still thinks you must have your own reasons if you're keeping something upto yourself. He tries his best to be patient and waits for you to come back because he trusts you.

Seungcheol is an enigma. He's sculpted, he's hella smart, he's hella rich. The girls lined up outside the dorm just to catch a glimpse of him. The guys hogged out his dorm room just to know how can someone be a full package.

He knew people would either love him for his looks or mostly for his money. He had no hope of making genuine friends until he came across Wonwoo, a scholarship student, who was aloof and coincidentally his assigned roommate.

If Seungcheol thought he was good at pushing people away, he was amazed to see Wonwoo. Sharing the dorm room with him was almost living alone. Seungcheol couldn't pinpoint why but he knew Wonwoo hated him. So one day after gathering courage and confronting him, Seungcheol comes to know about his cautiousness against rich people in general. Then one talk lead to two, two lead to three and that's how Seungcheol and Wonwoo became friends.

He was sure he wouldn't find love until you came in the picture.

A hard slap comes against Seungcheol's cheek and the whole campus becomes eerily silent.

"How dare you submit my assignment in your name?", you are fuming in rage and raise your hand to slap him again when he holds your hand mid air.

"What the hell are you talking about?", he hisses through his teeth.

You scoff, "The audacity to pretend, Mr. Choi Seungcheol. Just because you have looks and money which you have no contribution in, you think you've conquered the world.", you free your arm from his grip, "Come to the professor's cabin at 2 or else I'll skin you alive. Pathetic loser."

You walk away but Seungcheol has his head spinning. He doesn't get why he got slapped out of nowhere and why the hell would he submit your assignment in his name when he doesn't even know you.

Then the lightbulb in his head goes off.

He immediately corners Jiah.

"What have you done?", he asks angrily.

Jiah is sweating, when she had assured Seungcheol that she would take care of the assignment because he had to aid his father with some business work and would be out of the country for two weeks, she didn't foresee herself completely forgetting about it.

So when she saw a binder kept on a desk, she silently took it and attached Seungcheol's name and details on it, tearing away the original owner's details.

Confident that even if someone caught onto it, they would let it slide just to get on Seungcheol's good side, she never thought it would backfire so bad.

Hence, Seungcheol is currently standing in the professor's cabin admitting to the wrong, head hung low.

You stand straight, head high also glaring at the professor, "What if he had not admitted to doing it? You'd have my whole work credited to him. Next time if something like this happens under my watch, I'll report it to the committee."

The professor gulps nervously and you are walking out not sparing another second.

That's where it all begun. Him knowing your name from the professor and chasing you down to apologise. You unabashedly giving him lectures on authenticity and ethics whenever he approached you.

You frequently get to see him, coincidentally or not. Him trying to make small talks, you ending his approach with an one word answer and moving ahead.

"Are you stalking me?", comes your sudden question one day.

"No, but I do look forward to seeing you, talking to you.", comes his honest answer.

He notices, you also like to keep your circle small. You're seen everywhere with the same two people. Now it's your turn to be amused when one day Mingyu insists on bringing Seungcheol to the musical, the one in which you've contributed to the background score. You're left embarrassed when at the end of the show he yells your name and applauds the loudest because he is mesmerized. That night he treats the whole team to dinner.

"I think Seungcheol likes you.", Eunsoo tells you one day.

"The almighty Choi Seungcheol?", you are laughing, "Soo, I don't match his social status. Have you seen those plastic heiress chasing him? I had even slapped him infront of the whole campus."

"Look, we have become good friends but I do know he approached me because of you.", Mingyu admits, "He definitely likes you."

"Do you like him?", Eunsoo asks you.

"Why would I like him?", you ponder.

Wonwoo is an observer. And with his special skill he deducts that his friend must have had his heart taken.

"So who's the one?", he asks one night when they're both getting ready for bed.

"Who's who?", Seungcheol asks confused.

"The one you like."

"Am I that obvious?"

"Yes. Please it be anyone except for Jiah, I can't tolerate her. Anyways, I know it wouldn't be her...", then Wonwoo goes on about how he spends less time in the dorm room nowadays. How he's always wandering around in the campus which he never did before. How he's consistent in attending the same two specific lectures.

"It's Y/N.", he says shyly, hiding his face behind his palms.

"No wonder, you're a masochist.", Wonwoo lays down on bed, "You like the girl who slapped you."

Seungcheol gasps, utterly embarassed, "Stop blabbering nonsense!"

When he asks you out, instead of being taken out to a fancy restaurant as initially planned you request him to go on a movie date.

It took you five dates to make him know you.

"We don't belong to the same class, Seungcheol."

"I'm not looking for anything temporary, Seungcheol."

"I don't enjoy the luxuries, I'd rather achieve everything on my own, Cheol."

"I like to keep my circle small amd private. Nothing extravagant."

"I like you too but would you accept me after knowing all this?"

The response from him comes as strong as a whirlwind in the form a deep kiss. You might have been hesitant at start but he has always been sure.

Things have gotten better since your birthday. Seungcheol's hostility towards you has decreased and though you want to question him about this certain change, those take a backseat just to not lose what you have at this moment.

He snarks at you less. Listens if you have something to say. Checks upon you occassionally. Wears the attire you choose for him, you both have breakfast & dinner together. But you still sleep in separate rooms but after intimate nights he doesn't leave, rather sleeps in nowadays.

"You should never trust him.", says Chan from the other end.

"What if he's really changed?", you tell him, "Maybe he has finally got that all this revenge agenda is worthless if you can be with the person you love."

"Just ask him.", Chan insists, "You need to understand that being in denial would only hurt you so confront him."

"Okay, if you insist."

Wonwoo is suspicious of Seungcheol. He too like Chan isn't convinced that Seungcheol could change overnight. So he secretly keeps the tabs on him. The fact which disturbs him is Jiah is happy nowadays. If your relationship with Seungcheol improves then Jiah would be anything but happy which leaves him skeptical.

"Don't do anything you'd regret later.", he warns Seungcheol one day. The latter just shrugs off.

Seungcheol was escatic when he started first. It was fun for him to watch how you'd easily trust him. A piece of calk to make you a fool he thought.

He acts as a considering husband in front of you but schemes your downfall behind your back.

"One of those busy days?", he asks one day when he sees you returning from the academy late. It totally catches you off guard but that simple gesture makes you visibily beam as well which doesn't go unnoticed by your husband. He then proceeds to fake concern and show interest when you talk it out.

"How about we go to watch a movie?", he asks one night when you both finish having dinner.

"Will you be able to make time for that?", you ask concerned.

Next, he's grabbing your hand and dragging you out.

"We're in our pyjamas, we can't go out like this, Seungcheol!", you yell in panic when you get his motive.

He doesn't lend you an ear throughout the ride while he's driving you both to the theatre, having it entirely booked to his name.

You can't say much about the movie because Seungcheol's good at distracting you. His dirty whispers, lingering touches and sly looks lead to something unspeakable. Movie long forgotten you're basking in afterglow against your husband's bare chest, in his warm embrace.

"Remember when we were taken out of the theatre by the security after getting caught while making out?"

You laugh at the memory, "We did some real crazy things back then. I could never forget how you walked into the class only in underpants after loosing a bet to me."

Seungcheol response comes out as a scowl as he pinches your sides making you squeal.

You watch him for some moments in silence before mustering the courage and ask him, "Are you really willing to forgive me? Because after what I have done to you, I know it would take a lot more to forgive me."

Seungcheol freezes but gains his compusre quickly and lies through his teeth, "I pondered a lot upon it. You know my mom said the exact thing as you about marriages. So maybe it's a good idea to start anew."

"I-I promise I'll make it up to all the hurt and pain you've been in because of me. I'm so ashamed for treating you like that back then, wish I could take it all back.", your voice cracks, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes, "We'll be happy Seungcheol."

He doesn't believe you. But you do.

Then this goes on. He tries to slip into your life, your circle, your family casually so that when he hits later, the blow catastrophes you.

"I'm currently working on a piece.", you reveal to him one night, "And I'm planning to release the composition, it's midway.", a sigh escapes your lips as you snuggle closer in your husband's arms, "You're the first one to know."

Seungcheol mirrors your smile, pressing a feather kiss on your head, "I'm honoured. And I'm so proud of you.", he laughs when he says, "I wonder how Seungkwan's gonna react when he comes to know that he wasn't the first one to know."

"Oh God, he's gonna be a bitch about it.", you exclaim about it.

He surprises you with gifts, visits you in the academy and takes you to dates. All of it just to keep tabs on you, make you slip out crucial information about anything.

"When are you going to take her down?", Jiah ask impatiently, "You're unnecessarily stalling time."

"I do have gotten something crucial on her. But the more I dwell into this act, the more she'll be hurt.", Seungcheol assures, "Just do what you've been told to and don't act so obvious, specially around Wonwoo, I don't know why but he has been lately saying stuffs. Seems he has grown closer to Y/N and her circle."

Though he wasn't interested at all, but for the sake of fooling you again, he attends the competition you & Seungkwan had taken part in.

Though he would never admit, he was intrigued as he watched you perform again, the nostalgia had hit him hard. He still isn't sure if the loudest claps those came from him were just for eyewash or out of genuinity.

Though he didn't want to spend his birthday with you, somehow it ended up being the most memorable one. When you had wished him dot at midnight and gathered his family and beloved people for a private party where you played him a romantic piece which you had composed just for him as a birthday present, in front of everyone, he wonders if love laced aura radiating from you was real. He wonders if the swell in his chest was just not because of you.

Every time he thinks he's slipping, he reminds himself of the heart burns, the trauma and again he's back to his agenda.

There's a fine line between pretense and reality. And that line is starting to blur for Seungcheol. The worst part, he hasn't even realised it yet.

So when he makes time to visit your academy, he thinks he's acting out according to his plan. But he doesn't realise he goes there just to watch you teach.

He doesn't realise that when plans those dates he actually looks forward to spending time with you.

When you were down with fever, he took you to the doctor not to look good to you but out of genuine worry.

He now shares his bedroom with you. All your belongings have shifted from your room to his. He doesn't like it when he finds the other side of the empty in the mornings. He doesn't let you go if he catches you while you try to sneak off, he whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

He knows about your schedules and nowadays he frees his schedule when you ask him to come and watch you perform. He anticipates your performance until you're on the stage, still claps the loudest and rushes to the backstage with a bouquet just to hug and tell how proud he is of you.

He doesn't fuck you and he might yet not be aware but makes love to you.

"Cherry!", he calls out one day when the two of you were goofing around and both of you freeze instantly. It was a name you both called each other when you both dated and were so in love. And now, that's what falls back to your lips. Like the good old days.

"You have changed.", Jiah says with disappointment, "Do you really not want revenge?"

"What rubbish.", Seungcheol laughs, "It's all just acting.", but the assertiveness in his voice fluctuates.

"So when are you gonna do the needful?", she raises her voice and Seungcheol glares at her.

"I'll decide when to do what.", he snarks, "Doesn't concern you, so stop being pushy."

And Jiah is sure that Seungcheol isn't determined anymore, that his feelings are resurfacing and interfering with the plan.

So she decides to take the matter into her hands once again, like she did years ago.

"Tell me you're joking.", Seungcheol laughs as his gaze sweeps at the faces, "Ok fine you guys got me. Good try."

There's an eerie silence clogging the room.

"Guys, I said y'all got me!", Seungcheol says this time a bit anxious, "You won! Now can we stop all this drama?"

You roll your eyes, as if unbothered, "There's no prank going on here. What I said was true."

You step closer to him, "I'll say it again so listen carefully. You were just a bet to me.", you say unapologetically, "Those guys", your index points at Mingyu and Eunsoo, "gave me a bet to make you, 'the enigmatic Choi Seungcheol'", a mocking laugh follows, "who nobody could bag yet", you're now objectifying him, "make fall in you love with me."

Seungcheol just listens. But he refuses to believe.

You are laughing again. Your hands grab his face moving it side to side, "I was so skeptical because you seemed scary. I mean you do have looks, money and power. But who could guess that you'd be so easy."

You circle around him, "All I had to do was create this image of aloof, private kind of girl and bam! you were circling around me like a puppy. I must admit, I was surprised at my own acting. Never made you have a doubt any second."

The first tear rolls down his cheek, when Seungcheol says, "Was none of it real for you, all the time we spent together?"

"Are you not getting it?", you ask annoyed, "No. None of it was real."

Seungcheol rushes to Mingyu and grabs his collar, "Gyu, please tell me it's all a lie. Just say it and I'd believe it in a blink."

Mingyu stays quiet, eyes lowered.

He then grabs Eunsoo, "Soo, I know you're the most rational one among us, so please please I'm begging you to tell. Tell me whatever she's telling is not true."

Eunsoo refuses to meet his gaze, she stays silent as well.

Seungcheol frees her and stands motionless for moments. He processes everything that he has heard since the moment he stepped into the room. He thinks over but he still doesn't want to believe.

Because he loves you to much to let you go. So he decides to be irrational just one time.

Seungcheol wipes the tears and walks upto you. When you look at him, your heart twists within your chest.

"Y/N", he looks at you so tenderly, "But none of it matters.", his hands travel up to caress your face, "Because all of it was true from my side. I love you, Y/N. Love you so much that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. It's you or no one.", he says so sincerely, "It was wrong to start off as a bet but I want to forget all this."

He then kneels on his knees, "Y/N, let's start this relationship afresh, on the right foot."

You panic because this was not you had expected. You had expected him to throw tantrum, say mean things, even slap you. But none of that happens.

"I don't love you, Seungcheol --"

"Then let me court you. Let me try my luck. Let's see if I could make you fall for me?", he's radiating so much love and grief that it suffocates all the three of you.

This won't do, you think, your plan is failing.

"I have been sleeping with people behind your back the whole time we dated.", you say unabashedly, "I have climbed beds and you never got to know."

Mingyu gasps, Eunsoo freezes at your words.

"It's okay", Seungcheol assures, "Because we weren't real. But now--"

"What makes you think I wouldn't do the same even after being an actual thing with you?", you scoff, "I might actually cheat on you this time. I would have you, your money, the luxuries. I might also see other people and like now, you'd never know.

Seungcheol feels like you've stabbed his heart and twisted the knife. There's an unfathomable bleeding.

"But you never used me, nor my money, none of the luxuries to get something. If you wanted, you could have, have it all.", he argues, "It might have started as an act but at some point it must have become real. Or why would you make me aware of this stupid bet if you didn't have feelings for me?"

"Stop being a sucker.", you snark at him, "It's not like you won't girls. Why are you acting like a loser when you know I don't, I won't reciprocate your feelings?"

Seungcheol gets up, with shaky hands and bloodshot eyes.

"Because even if you didn't, I have loved you honestly.", comes Seungcheol's response.

"I won the bet and lost interest in you.", you look at him condescendingly, "I felt bad for you, so right now I'm letting you know the truth. So just leave, forget about all this and carry on with your life. You were nothing but another notch on my bedpost. I would admit, I had fun. Thanks for that."

Seungcheol gets up and thinks about how he made a fool of himself. Thinks about how right he was about people taking advantage of him because of the baggage that comes with him. Thinks about how wrong it was of him to let his guard down.

"Well played, y'all.", he claps and chuckles bitterly with eyes pooling with tears, "Well played.", he then throws a glare at you which sends down a shiver down your & your friends' spine.

"Make sure to not cross paths with me again. Or I'll make you regret your existance."

And you made sure that's the last time he saw you.

"I have to be overseas for an important deal.", Seungcheol says laying back on his office chair, "It will be a one week trip and the connectivity is so bad, I'd probably lose touch with everyone while I'll be there."

You go over to his side and stand behind to rub his shoulders making your husband groan in relief, "Tell me about it, happens with Chan as well. When are you leaving?"

Seungcheol takes your hand and pulls you to make you sit on his lap when he says, "Month end. Y/N, I was thinking that...", he pauses to look at you before continuing, "If you could make some time and come with me. We didn't have our honeymoon yet so maybe we could make a good use of this trip."

You smile softly at him, "I'd love to but remember I had told you about working on a composition, it's release is set on by the month end."

"Oh right!", Seungcheol exclaims as he recollects, "God, I'm sorry it skipped my mind.", he instantly sullens, "But I don't think I'd be able to postpone this trip. I'm sorry I couldn't be there with you."

You peck his pouty lips and trace them with your thumb softly, "I can guess how important it would be, so don't worry. Anyways our first anniversary is coming as well, we can plan something later."

"Woah, we're getting through it?", Seungcheol laughs, "I can't believe, we made it."

"All because of you.", your mood shifts when you say, "Just because you had it in you to give me a second chance. That alone was enough."

"I had loved you back then", Seungcheol exhales sharply because of what he's going to say now. He smiles when he realises his feelings, realises that without hesitation he's ready to say it again. Gently holding your face he confesses, "I think I'm falling for you again."

You go absolutely stiff in his hold.

Seungcheol carefully searches your face for any signs of discomfort or uneasiness but he finds none.

"Am I dreaming?", you ask him animatedly, "Can you pinch me? No..", you shake your head, "Would you say it again?"

His eyes turn into crescent moons, as he flashes you the adorable teethy smile.

"I've fallen for you again.", he admits.

"I-I... Seungcheol.. I--", you stutter unable to wrap your mind around your husband's confession.

It was so hard to let you go. It killed to break your heart. Only if I could turn back time, only if I could tell how much I loved you as well.

The thoughts inside your head become louder making you so overwhelmed that now you are sobbing. It's uncontrollable and it makes Seungcheol have to rock you gently side to side while downing your face on his shoulder.

"I-I can't believe this is happening.", you don't face him, saying the words with your face still perched, while wrapping your arms around him tighter, "I love you so much, I know it'd be hard for you to believe but please just trust me on this."

Seungcheol doesn't speak, but he knows that he wants to believe you. Because love is about taking chances, so he might take it as well.

Once you calm down in his embrace, he watches you. He watches the gear in your head turning so he does what he could do to take your mind off of things.

He calls Wonwoo and says, "Don't let anyone into my cabin until you get another call from me. Also, don't connect anyone to the telecom."

Then he's flipping the phone somewhere and he gives you that one look which is enough to melt you into a puddle before his lips, tongue and hands start to work on your whole body.

"Congratulations!", Chan says hugging you, "I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks for making time and coming to the event. Also, the inspiration comes from you all", you say pulling away, "Credit goes to you too."

"Bluff.", Seungkwan comes to pitch in, "The theme is love, then clearly inspiration must be someone named 'Choi Seungcheol'."

You roll eyes hitting him on the arm but laugh nonetheless.

"Look she isn't even denying!", Mingyu joins in to throw a banter, "But I must say you're okay compared to Eunsoo, she's hopeless."

Chan quirks brow at the statement and asks, "Am I missing something?"

You hook your arm into his, saying, "Eunsoo had an itty bitty crush on Wonwoo at uni days which gradually got away. But now that he's back and into our circle, looking like a four course meal according to her, she thinks her crush is relapsing."

"You make it sound like it's cancer.", Eunsoo finally quips in, "Anyways doesn't matter, there's no scope, I must move on. Good thing Seungcheol took Wonwoo with him, out of sight, out of mind."

"I miss my husband. He didn't even wanna leave for the trip to be with me.", you sigh, leaning on your brother's shoulder, "I can't even contact him. Three more days, ugh sounds like an eternity."

"Oh god, I might puke at the lovesickness.", Seungkwan fake gags, "Disgusting."

"It's good to see that you're happy.", Chan whispers just to you while others indulge in several topics to tease one another, "It's such a relief. I would like to talk to Seungcheol once he's back. If he really loves you and makes you feel like home then I'm ready to mend things as well."

You just nod and let the moment sink in. Your pupils dilate as you see the smiles on your friends' faces who have been there with you through thick and thin. Your mind lingers back the proud expression on your parents face. The heartiest congratulations that you received from your in-laws. You tilt your head to look at your brother who always has been your anchor, your biggest supporter. All of them have been present at the composition release event and now they are present at your home to extend the celebration. The parents take leave after sometime to let the peers have fun.

Your home, as you say it proudly now, a place you share with your loving husband, who has forgiven you for the scarred past and shares companionship with you.

Everything is falling back to place and you wish it stays the same. Your eyes fall heavy and you drift off.

The sleep must have been good because it's 10 in the morning when you wake up to see yourself tucked in sheets in your bedroom. The hall is empty and you immediately understand that your brother must have taken it upon himself to drive away your lovely but clingy-when-drunk friends from your house.

You try to call Seungcheol but as usual he's unreachable, so is Wonwoo, so is everyone who has gone to the trip. Dejected, you leave him a series of undelivered texts in hope it somehow reaches him and decide to take a bath which involves you to be away from your phone, just relaxing music and another round of sleep in the bathtub with your favourite bath bombs.

Not sure how long you've fallen asleep but you're woken up by loud voices from the other side of the door. Quickly freshening up you get ready as your phone keeps ringing or dinging because of notifications. Ignoring that you get out of your bedroom to find very distressed Chan and Seungkwan waiting for you.

"What happened guys?", you ask in concern.

Chan makes you sit and you see the two exchanging nervous glances which in turn makes you nervous as well.

"Y/N..", Seungkwan starts off, he exhales sharply and says, "Your work is being accused of plagiarism."

The ground beneath you slips. You look at Seungkwan and then at Chan.

Chan sounds pissed when he says, "Apparently a local artist has already released the composition five days ago, meaning four days before your release event."

You are panicking, shaking, tears are streaming down your face, "I-I didn't steal anyone's work. I-I have composed them, they're my work. Trust me guys, please..I--"

"We trust you, Y/N.", Seungkwan runs to you and rubs your arms, "I have been with you through it. I have seen it all."

"I was studying it with Kwan before coming here, everything is same. Every piece, every insertion, every note.", Chan says, "It looks like someone wholly copied your work.

Seungkwan sighs, "I feel so ashamed but all I can think of is somefrom the academy doing so."

"That's possible.", Chan asks, "But from what I know no one knew about this except you both. Even the event was announced just before a day or two to the people of academy."

Seungkwan asserts, "Everything was done remotely. Y/N do you recollect telling anyone else about this at any stage apart from Seungcheol?"

"Seungcheol knew?", Chan quips surprised and you are shaking your head.

"No. Leave him out of this, he wouldn't have done anything.", you warn your brother.

"I'm sorry Y/N, but I can't leave anyone out of this.", Chan says, "Someone is trying to harm you and I would see through the end of it. Be it anyone."

Eunsoo and Mingyu are stumbling upon while crossing the threshold. Seungkwan briefs them about what have been deducted till now and they decide to stick by your side while Chan and Seungkwan rushes out to the field to gather evidence and facts.

"I have already talked to my father.", Mingyu informs you, "He himself will aid with any legal advice. Don't worry everything will be sorted out."

"I had a talk with my mother. She also ensured that we'd broadcast only the solid proofs that pertains to the truth. We have faith in you, it'll get over soon.", Eunsoo ensures you, "Infact we have had our reporters dig in the matter as well."

Soon after your parents arrive followed by your in-laws. Your phone keeps ringing and no one allows you to hold it. Eventually, the device is turned off and kept somewhere, out of your reach.

Among all of the ominous thoughts involving losing your career, unable to pursue your passion anymore, being deemed as a thief, outcasted by the society and all others, the one that prevails is would Seungcheol believe you?

Two days go by and there's not much progress. You strike continuously as the most trending person on the internet, on news papers, in some tabloids boldly called out as a thief, the others focused more on why there's no statement from your own company or the Choi's themselves. The only thing that keeps you at bay is Seungcheol's return tomorrow.

You are flabbergasted at how can the two pieces of work be exact same unless someone copied it. You decide to visit the academy and search for any leads. Just as you are about to drive off your phone buzzes.

I have some information that would benefit you. Meet me at The Ritz at 11.

The text was from Jiah and you're instantly drawn to how Jiah could be the one involved in this.

"Let's skip the formalities.", Jiah smiles as she places some documents and an usb drive in front of you.

There's a laptop kept on the table, the screen displaying an audio ready to be played.

"Aren't you eager to know what's happening and why it's happening to you?", Jiah asks with a cunning smile which irks you.

"Stop wasting my time and reveal if you know something.", you snark back, "And don't think I'd believe a word you say without any proof because I don't trust you a bit."

"Seungcheol--"

"Don't you dare bring my husband into this, Jiah!"

Your heart shrinks because of the look Jiah gives you. No way your husband would be involved into all this, no way he'd go as far as to ruin your career.

"I have done it. I have paid a staff in your academy to steal your work, made it release before your event and hence you're being charged with plagiarism.", Jiah confesses and before you could charge her she drops the bomb, "Your husband, Choi Seungcheol is the mastermind behind it."

"I'll cut your tongue for speaking rubbish--"

"How do you think I knew about all this? Who else apart from Seungcheol knew about this?", Jiah asks. Her gaze falls on the laptop and she gestures you to play it.

"Y/N is working on a composition and is planning to release it sometime later. We should use this opportunity to bring her down."

The audio stops and you recognise the voice as your husband's. The jab hits hard, hard enough to make you loose your footing. Jiah is quick to hold you and make you sit on the chair.

"Have a look at these papers."

Your hands are shaky when you pick up the papers. You freeze on reading the heading. Your hands fall to the sides once you finish reading it whole. Those bunch of papers were about transferring your shares of the academy under the Choi's name.

Jiah doesn't give you time to settle as she plays another recording.

"Are the papers ready? What will happen if I take her lifeline away from her?"

"When are you going to take her down? You're unnecessarily stalling time."

"The more I dwell into this act, the more she'll be hurt. Just do what you've been told to and don't act so obvious, specially around Wonwoo, I don't know why but he has been lately saying stuffs. Seems he has grown closer to Y/N and her circle."

You sit there motionless. The person you considered your world was the one planning to stab you.

"You can get these recordings examined.", Jiah tells you, "To be sure that I haven't manipulated or tampered with the recordings."

She takes a sit beside you and observes you carefully. The triumphant smile that graces her lips on seeing you getting trampled, makes her believe that now's the time when she could spew any lies and you'd believe it. She knows she has won over.

"The plan was to take advantage of your helplessness and make you transfer the shares in the disguise of helping you clearing your name.", Jiah leans in closer to your face, "Why do you think Seungcheol is out of country out of all the time? He's trying to build up the urgency so that as soon as he walks in you'd be at his feet asking for help."

Jiah has accepted that she would never have Seungcheol to herself, so not at fear of loosing anything she's going all out as for to separate you two.

"The Choi's are so powerful that no matter how much you try, there's no way you could prove your innocence.", Jiah says as her sinisteric gaze falls on you again, "You can take all these proofs, additionally, I'll even provide the details pertaining to the person who stole your work and make them confess."

"W-Why are you helping me?"

"Either way it breaks you two apart and that's the motive. Knowing the truth would hurt you the most."

Her heels clank loudly as she walks out, leaving you behind, defeated and devastated.

How foolish of you to believe that Seungcheol would forgive you easily? How naive of you that you fell for his act of a doting husband.

You wonder if this is how he had felt after being betrayed by you. You run your hands over your chest to soothe the ache. You scream, throw down anything you could grab, stomp over the place but nothing helps you in calming down.

Three hours have passed and you're still in that damned conference room. Scathed, scrotched and scattered.

You inhale, exhale and repeat. Then you're calling your brother.

"Chan, arrange for a press conference tomorrow evening. Also stop looking further into the case. I have evidence to prove that I'm innocent.", you say into the phone, "Gather everyone at the academy, none of the Choi's though. Ask Eunsoo if they would broadcast it on their network. Tell Mingyu to have Mr. Kim free some time for me this week if possible. Make the checks now, we can't delay it further."

Seungcheol's boarding the plane back home when he comes to know of the situation. He feels sick to stomach when all that's happening feels too known to him. Though he might have wanted this to happen once but now he can't even fantom the thought of doing something so viscious to you.

He calls you but you don't pick up. He calls others, makes Wonwoo call them too but it's fruitless.

He's anxious throughout the way, worried sick, feels guilty for not being by your side when you're going through so much. He hopes you're not beating your much, wants to hold, wants to assure you that everything will be fine, that you have him.

Wonwoo is running through all the red lights equally anxious. He wants to go inside and check upon you but he steps aside as he watches Seungcheol rushing into the house, hoping you'll be okay.

Seungcheol rustles through the corridor and slam opens the door, hurriedly making a sprint inside the house.

It's afternoon but the house, entire hallway is dimly lit. Suddenly the lights go on and he spots you.

Something about you is different, it's almost eerie. The black dress you're wearing, the cold gaze your throwing is unsettling.

"Baby--", you hold out your hand when Seungcheol starts to walk towards you.

Seungcheol halts, he feels the grimness in your aura.

"Welcome back, Seungcheol. I have been waiting for you.", you say apathetically, "Take a seat, I have some things to discuss with you, before I leave for the press conference."

That's when Seungcheol notices your finger void of the wedding ring.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

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devastator1775 · 1 year

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Some "Watching and Dreaming" Epilogue details I want to point out.

Luz and Vee graduation: I'm so happy to see that Vee got officially adopted by the Noceda family.

Bi Heart Flag!

Luz got a writing scholarship. Look closely! Signed by Dana Terrace!

Barista feeding Hooty - probably ending up with major injuries.

Noceda family Zoo trip - WITH THE GIRAFFES! Plus: Vee close-up.

Eda giving Camila Apples Blood.

King and Eda playing catch + Hooty is there too.

Hexsquad going to Prom! Or is it Grom? Anyway, LOOK AT VEE IN HER DRESS! SHE LOOKS SO CUTE!

L+A in a heart carved in the desk!

Luz's acception letter

List of things Luz needs to buy + her dorm room number and move-in date.

STRING BEAN CORNER: The little snake shifter got her own little nest!

There's my girl! Timeskip Vee looks so good. Longer hair, piercings, that shirt!

Picture of Vee and Luz playing baseball (or something, I'm not good with American sports) (Edit: I have seen posts that say it could be Masha. It's too tiny to tell...)

Halloween String Bean!

Flapjack. Thank you for finding me. -Hunter (Just make me cry already, Dana!)

Note to self: write to flora to show off. :3

Hooty is the curator! (I think he wrote that himself...)

Something with Disco.

Some pictures of Luz and King, and one of Raine

Some Basiliks! Just chilling, playing music. You think Vee has something to do with that?

I just wanna point out Vee again! She looks so cute! I love how she keeps the piercings! And as I'm writing this, I've noticed that the tag on her tail is gone!

Garderer Bump!

1 - 2 - 3 - BYEEEEE!

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txttletale · 28 days

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as someone seeing all this from the outside, whats trnasphobic about people hating homestuck? I've never seen it associated with trans people and I cant see anything about this hussie guy who made it being trans

hussie is in fact trans (nonbinary, any pronouns, apparently psycholonials goes into more detail about how they feel re: gender but i haven't played it) and if you've never seen it 'associated with trans people' idk skill issue there is a very large and vocal trans fanbase for it and historically has been to the point that it's a meme that a bunch of transmascs who transitioned circa 2015 are called dave and are embarassed if you ask why. that said i don't think there's anything transphobic about hating homestuck, there's lots of perfectly good reasons to hate homestuck or hussie. parts of homestuck are horrifically racist. some of hussie's older work is even worse. the ending sucks. the epilogues suck and also waste much more of your time. huge chunks of the comic itself are just not very good even aside from the racism. you can feel however you want about homestuck idc

where transmisogyny comes into it is 1. poeple have been harassing and ridiculing a bunch of trans women on here for having a book club wher ethey read it and 2. moreover and what i have mainly been posting abt this in relation to is that there are many people whose reaction to dtwof losing in a meme poll is to go on various different varietals of 'the degenerate ingrates are not appreciative of the True Real Queer Culture, how far we have fallen' rants, which is indicative of a kind of cisbian homonationalist reactionary attitude that elevates the 80s/90s usamerican cis gay scenes to the status of an unattainable mythic past. & this is an attitude that basically goes hand in hand with transmisogyny because they treat any of the many, many warranted criticisms about how transmisogynistic the culture and scenes they idolize were with extreme condescencion and hostility.

#ask

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galedekarios · 5 months

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there are some small details i thought were very sweet about gale's good ending in the epilogue:

the description of the outfit the protag wears by default

brocade ensemble the rich details on this ornate garb suggest the work of the finest craftspeople waterdeep's fashion district has to offer.

combined with gale's own new outfit and him fussing over it (although some of it is anxiety over the reunion with the others), i think it's very sweet to imagine gale having this garb made / tailored for his spouse.

gale smiles into his kisses with the protag

nothing really to add here, except that it's such an adorable detail:

gale still holds them as he tells them i love you + tells them to mingle

you don't really see it in the cutscene because the camera is focused on gale's face as he tells the protag he loves them, but with the flycam you can see it very well:

only after that does he slowly let go.

something something sometimes the little things are worth more than kingdoms indeed.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x tav #tav x gale #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 patch 5 spoilers #gale epilogue spoilers #otp: a soul that steels my own #ch: altonaufein #ch: gale dekarios #vg: baldur's gate 3 #meta: mybg3

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cocomochicakes · 5 months

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I love the way Larian narrates mental health and healing from trauma.

I used to work in Clinical Mental Health Counseling and I saw a LOT of individuals of all ages come in with absolutely horrible trauma that was so unfathomable it felt surreal even hearing the things they went through. Sometimes people learned how to look at their scars, acknowledge them, and move on with their lives. Other times, they did their best but those scars would always be the first thing they saw in the morning and the last things they saw before bed.

Watching the way Larian narrates trauma, especially the way it was written for Astarion, hits home in a way that is almost indescribable after seeing how it manifests in real life. What I can say is that watching the Epilogue for Spawn Astarion made me misty eyed. Not because he got a "happy ending" or me as the player gets to experience it but because there is a single line he says that just encompasses how beautiful and messy the healing process can be: that the last 6 months together has been more meaningful that the last 200 wretched years of his life.

When he says it and goes into detail, we know he's not completely past the visible and invisible scars that he's been left with but in the last 6 months, he's started his journey of healing finding a new normal. For the rest of his existence he won't always have good days when he's able to smile nor days he won't fall back into old habits but what we can glean from this is the following: he's given value and meaning to this new life he's been given and will eventually be able to live his new normal on his own or with whomever he fell in love with, scars and all.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #bg3 companions #bg3 epilogue spoilers #bg3 epilogue #astarion headcanons

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 6 months

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A Perfect Score - Epilogue | FigureSkating!AU

Summary: months have passed since the finals with no sign of Aemond, making you wonder if anything has changed | Word Count: 6k~ | Warnings below the cut~

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: p in v sex, daddy kink, oral (f receiving), degradation, praise, *a finger in the bum*, butt play, ass eating, orgasm denial, creampie, ass slapping, pussy slapping, face slapping

A/N: *don't get emosh, don't get emosh, don't get emosh* I can't believe it's really REALLY the end! I've had this idea for the Epilogue for AGES and can't wait for you all to read the last instalment of our figure skating couple <3 would die for them and hope you enjoy!

"Good, but bend your knees!" You shout to El who's still got her hands outstretched haphazardly, wobbling on the ice as others whizz past her, knocking her off balance.

She throws a middle finger.

Charming.

You laugh as she pushes off to do another lap, reaching down between your legs for the bag and pulling your phone out for any new texts.

Nothing, you sigh.

El makes you jump, bumping into the ledge, "Will you stop being a simp and checking your phone every two seconds? He's going to text you!"

You click your phone off, "I know. I'm just so impatientttt…" you whine, exaggerating your frustration.

El rolls her eyes, "He'll get in, bud"

"Ew, don't call me that"

"Besides, if he gets rejected, he could always be your new manager, pal" she grins.

"You're so fucking gross, you know that?"

She shrugs, a grin that spells victory, "that'd be kinda hot to be fair. Going everywhere with you to competitions, organising your hotel rooms, fucking you over his des-"

"El! For fucks sake" you whisper-shout, heat rising to your cheeks.

A few other skaters on the ice turn their heads in judgment, making your face burn with embarrassment.

"Gods, so uptight" El jokes, a mischievous grin on her face.

To tell the truth. You missed Aemond. In all aspects.

You hadn't had sex since being in Dorne. And you hadn't seen him since the hospital.

Even though you texted most days, after months of seeing him everyday, it was quite the shock to the system.

It felt like there was a hole, conveniently Aemond-shaped, that was deepening the longer you two were separated.

"Oof!"

You both look up, to see Floris on the ice, wobbling her way back onto her feet, grimacing, "I'm ok!" She reassures, pushing off to skate slowly.

You nod in Floris' direction, "Is she okay skating?"

"Yeah, the physiotherapist said it'd be good to get her doing things like this again" El replies, looking over her shoulder at her sister.

She turns back to you, "Your manager doesn't hang around here anymore. Not since Floris has started coming back".

You resist the urge to frown.

Coward.

“Got you”, El smirks mischievously, "will you tell me what happened one day?"

It was something you’d thought about for some time. To tell her, or not? Floris certainly didn’t know the deeper details, but you knew she would have had suspicions.

Aemond was obviously unbothered if such information circulated, having put a very large proverbial wall between him and Otto the moment he was discharged from hospital. And yet, it still wouldn’t feel right, airing out all the Targaryen dirty laundry like that.

Even if he said it was okay.

But maybe, on a deeper level, Floris and El at least, deserved the truth.

"One day" you promise.

The cold winter chill nips at your bones, even through the layers of thermal clothing you've got piled on, the thick socks, boots and an overcoat, it still feels positively freezing.

“Who are you texting, missy?” you tease, bumping El on the shoulder, shoving your hands into your thick coat pockets.

She flushes, from the weather or the embarrassment you are unsure, but she puts her phone away quickly, “Nobody, you nosy cow”

King's Landing Winter Wonderland, Christmas Market and trinket shops, though it's far too early for any of that, it gets the people into the spirit. Stalls line the market square with several of them selling holiday related items as well as food, with an ice rink circling the entirety of the perimeter.

The air smells of mulled wine, cooked meats and the laughter of families and couples alike. With their warm breath creating clouds of white with each exhale.

El has you excitedly tucked into her arm, telling you all about her newest boyfriend, who for all intents and purposes is both hot and a keeper.

Ah, so that’s who she was talking to.

"He's already talking about us moving in together! Before the end of the year" She says excitedly, but her face falls, "but…I don't want to leave you in the lurch paying the rent by yourself".

You scoff, "I won't take you away from good dick because of fucking rent" you smirk, "if you want to, go for it".

She arches her eyebrows in uncertainty, "You sure?"

You pat her gloved hand with yours, "very", you smile, "as long as he doesn't steal you away from me, I want the lowdown".

"Oh you'll get that alright", she laughs.

Having poked your heads into a few stalls, and several sips of mulled wine later, you smirk as El is glued to her phone. Again.

"That your man?" You ask.

She quickly puts it away, biting her lip, "Yup" she replies, "wanna go skating?"

You roll your eyes, "It's not like it's my fucking job, El. Sick of it".

"Oh come on! I won't have to use the kids stabilisers anymore!"

She gives you her wide, puppy-like eyes.

Ones you know you can't refuse.

"Fine" you sigh.

She is far too excited to say that literally a few hours before she was struggling to use her two flippers to stay upright on the rink. Nevermind going backwards.

It’s quite entertaining to see her drag you by the hand excitedly to the ticket gate.

“One ticket for skating, please! Size 5!” she beams at the receptionist, who looks like he’d rather be dead right now.

You furrow your brows, “One? Did you want to go on by yourself and I watch or-”

“Nope! Just you” she grins.

“Me? El, what in seven hells are you on abou-”

She shoves the skates into your hands and practically pushes you past the gate, waving you off, “no questions!”

You don’t even really have time to cuss her out/question the situation, it feels like your brain is in overdrive.

There, either hand leaning against the entrance to the ice rink, where the public are zipping around slowly, laughing, pink in the face, hand in hand, is Aemond. The familiar ribbons of platinum hair that have fallen from the hair tie, now slightly waved from the moisture in the air, sways with the breeze at his shoulders.

He has that slack smirk on his face, his tall broad form leaning on one side, ankles crossed with the low quality skates on, tapping the tip onto the ice.

Even in a heavy looking coat, his hair messily done up and pink cheeks from where the cold had been hitting them, he still looks every bit as handsome as you remembered him.

It makes your heart sigh to see him smile at you with that glimmer in his eye. Blinking slowly and admiringly at you.

"Hey, Princess", he greets warmly.

You almost drop the skates in your hands, the cold wisps of wind making you realise now that your eyes are all wet.

You're sure his name slips out before you crash into his arms, flinging yours around his neck.

He smells just like he used to.

And all those good memories just flood back at once, making that wetness behind your eyes form actual teardrops that line your cheeks.

You feel him laugh a little, one of his big hands on your back, "missed me then?", he prods in a smooth tone.

Fuck. His voice.

You didn't realise you'd missed hearing it so much.

When you pull away, to properly look at his face, he's still smiling, in that classic 'Aemond' way.

You're so engrossed with just looking at him, you nearly flinch when you feel his thumb wipe your under eye softly, wiping the moisture away.

His gaze softens, "don't cry. I don't look that bad, do I?"

Giving a watery laugh, you shake your head, "Just missed you".

His hand is still around your waist, inadvertently pulling you close to him so your hands hover over his chest, "Now, now, don't get all soft on me".

Your cheeks hurt from smiling.

"How?.."

Aemond gestures with his head, "El organised it".

"But…she's-"

"With her new boyfriend, don't worry. It's just us, princess" Aemond smiles, picking up the skates you'd dropped.

"For old time's sake?" He smiles.

And all you can do is blush and smile up at him like a little lovesick teenager.

It feels utterly strange to get back on the ice with Aemond again, even if it is a public one in the middle of a Christmas market. Even more so that he's not flinging you around in all sorts of twists and jumps.

But it feels nice.

Hand in gloved hand, you glide about together, catching up.

Alicent, you learn, has gotten back in touch with her long time friend. Aemond furrows his brows when he recollects that usually she's on facetime with a glass of Dornish Red in one hand and creasing up in front of her iPad at something her friend has said.

Aegon. Well, he's Aegon. Aemond's words, not yours. But he's working on getting a teaching qualification so that he can coach skating instead. It's nice that he was able to find something to use his skills for. Other than womanising.

"Had minor surgery on my nerves…they think it'll do the trick for some years, hopefully forever" he says as you weave on either foot.

"Well that's good" you smile, "does it feel better?"

He nods, "Oh and Hel has a new partner".

You look over quickly, one eyebrow poised, "And? Was I right?"

Smirking, Aemond has to resist the urge to roll his eye, "Yes, you were right".

"Yes! I knew it! I knew she was bi!"

You flush when some families around you look over when you shout it a bit too loud.

Oops.

Aemond tugs you to his side by your waist, humming in a kind of quiet laugh. A comfortable silence descends, just enjoying one another's company.

"I got in", he says suddenly. Stealing your attention again as your feet synchronise in short glides.

"Got in?"

"KLU".

"KLU? Oh my god-" you surge up, his face between your hands, but he doesn't complain, and kiss him fiercely, "Congratulations, Aemond. Oh my gosh, that's-"

You beam with pride.

And you can tell he genuinely loves it, by the way he blushes slightly.

"And" he goes on, his face close to yours, smirking at the confused look on your face.

"And?..."

He licks his lips before he speaks.

"I got a place" he adds, "and was wondering…if you…"

He trails off. And your face settles into realisation. Your heart hammering in your chest, like the engine of an old train.

He shrugs, clearing his throat, “You know, because we basically spent all our time together during the championships…”

You swallow thickly, "Really?..." it comes out weaker than you intended.

He nods, “It’s just out of town, not far from here really” he gestures in the vague direction with his head, the hand that’s resting at your waist dropping somewhat.

Blinking the emotion from your eyes, you swat his chest playfully, “Alright, Mr Moneybags”

He doesn’t laugh, like you expect him to, but he does smile at least. At this point, you seem to have come to a stop, your skates nestled between his to keep you both stable.

His darkened gaze just looks at your face. Studies it.

Like he’s opened a book and is reading through the pages.

When he looks at you like that, you can’t help but feel a flutter deep in your chest. It feels like he is drawing on you softly, like a thousand little butterflies have landed on your face, and are slowly opening and closing their wings.

You shudder when his warm, ungloved thumb brushes against your cheek.

“What?...” you smile at him affectionately.

He hums, a cloud escaping his lips as he speaks, “I’ve missed you”.

All you feel is the ledge of the ice rink press against your lower back and yours and Aemond’s noses brushing against one another as he presses his warm, comforting lips to yours.

He takes his time, moving languidly against your lips with a soft, wet beat, his tongue parting your lips as if he had been waiting all this time to taste you properly.

He tastes just as you remember.

A hint of cigarettes that he’s tried to hide with spearmint.

When you break away, you can’t ignore the warm feeling that blooms in your gut. In all the time you’d spent apart, you forgot how his lips felt on yours, how his hands felt on you, and how his mere presence around you made arousal creep up your thighs.

Gods, it’s been so long.

A blush creeps up your neck to your face, and Aemond smirks.

“Stop that”

Your lower lip catches between your teeth before you reply, “What?”

He leans against the ledge, caging you in with his own body.

“Blushing”

His voice lowers.

“Otherwise I’ll give you something to blush about”

The tension was thick as you and Aemond trudged through the Christmas Market after vacating the ice rink. You tried to lighten it by doing idle things like looking at the homemade ornaments on one stand, to sharing a cup of mulled wine between you, feeling the way the liquid warmed your insides.

That warmth was nothing compared to the way Aemond looked at you.

It reminded you of all those months ago, at the hotel, before the dynamic of your relationship changed. The way he used to stare at you from across the room, in what you wrongly thought at the time was out of disinterest and detest.

How wrong you were.

Shooting off a quick text to El, who you were sure was already back at the flat anyway, enjoying all the ‘assets’ of her new boyfriend, you walk hand in hand with Aemond back to his apartment.

He was very intent on showing you his new place. And your insides fluttered in anticipation, heat crawling up your neck.

His apartment was nice. Not that you expected any less. It was several floors high, showing a good view of King’s Landing and the bright, illuminated Christmas Market in the square below. Even from here, through the tall and wide windows of the living room, you could see the couples zipping around the ice rink, as you both were just a few moments before.

It had that ‘new apartment’ smell, but whenever you brushed past a coat of his or a blanket, it smelled like him. The walls were bare, but you were sure that Aemond would decorate when he was properly settled.

“Is Vhagar going to be coming here?” you ask, cupping the warm mug of tea in your hands as Aemond gives it to you.

“Maybe. She’s quite settled at Mum’s though so…I don’t want to make her anxious”.

You nod, “It’s a nice place”

“Will look even better when you’re here” he smirks, bending down to huff himself onto the sofa, “I’m sure you have better ideas than I do on interior design”.

You simply watch him for a moment, the warmth of his apartment making your previously cold hands feel prickly. Your fingers tap against the ceramic, the sound of Aemond’s playlist rumbling quietly from a speaker in a different room.

Placing the mug on the coffee table, Aemond exhales as your legs rest either side of his torso, moving to sit atop him with your hands stealing beneath his shirt, watching as his pink lips part for breath.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, princess” he murmurs against your lips as he leans up, his large hands squeezing your ass, moulding the flesh to his grip and eliciting a low gasp from your lips.

"Who says it's a game?" You whisper back, teasing him by brushing your lips against his, moving your hips on him and smiling when you feel him harden instantly.

" - fuck - "

You know he hates it, just hates it, when you smirk at how pent up and desperate he gets. But you just can't help it. Not only is it all too easy, it's just too fucking tempting too.

How easily such a large, overbearing and domineering man, can be subdued to a mewling, near-begging mess just by the soft movement of your hips.

"Baby, please -"

Reaching down between your bodies, Aemond outright moans when you palm his erection through his jeans, sitting against his thigh quite obviously. You tease your hand from the base to the tip, squeezing through the denim, seeing the way Aemond almost knits his brows together in barely-contained pleasure.

And any time he tries to reach up, to kiss you properly, you pull back, allowing him to chase you.

"Oh, fuck you-"

You yelp in surprise as Aemond lifts you, keeping your legs around his waist as he pushes his bedroom door open and dropping you onto his mattress. And before you even have a moment to sit up on your elbows, he's on you, kneeing your legs apart and caging you to the bed with his body.

"Can't fucking wait any longer - need you, baby-"

Fuck, even the way he says that has arousal pooling between your legs, the desire to push your thighs together strong, but weakened with Aemond's body keeping them apart.

He's so fast and rough, the way he unbuttons your jeans and pulls the denim down your legs, taking your underwear with it, that you feel for a moment he may have torn something.

He practically fucking growls when he he looks between you, his thumb teasing your clit, finally able to look upon you the way he's wanted to for months.

"Already soaked for me, aren't you?" He coos lowly, teasing your bud in sure, confident circles, before swatting your heat firmly with a wet smack, "such a good fucking slut for me".

You mewl, pressing your lips together, a flush enveloping your face at his words. It's been so long since you were intimate with him, it will take a few moments to get used to it again and fall into that rhythm.

That, and you can't help but flush in embarrassment at the realisation you've not shaved your legs, genuinely not having expected to see him today.

It doesn't seem like Aemond cares.

With a fist over the collar of his shirt, he pulls it over his head, showing his lean and well-muscled torso lit with a warm amber glow from the bedside lamp.

You jolt in surprise as his fingers pull you by your thighs further down the bed, a gasp flying past your lips as his tongue and teeth nip and kiss at the inside of them. The sensation bordering on pain and pleasure at the same time.

"You don't know how long I've waited to taste your sweet pussy, princess"

You have an idea, by the way Aemond mouths at the crease between your thigh and hip. But you don't say it out loud. The anticipation of his mouth so, so close without touching you where you need him most is agonising.

" - fuck - Aemond -"

Your back nearly arches off the bed as he flattens his tongue against your warmth, swirling around your clit first before diving into your folds to feast on you, his fingers digging into your flesh for leverage. The feeling of his grip into your flesh burns pleasantly as he tugs you towards him, your lips parting with hurried pants tumbling out.

Your legs tremble as his low moan vibrates through your core, electricity creeping up your spine as he laps at you with vigour, his sharp nose nudging at your clit as he moves side to side to eventually fuck you with his tongue.

For a split second, you worry if he can actually breathe.

But as your embarrassingly quick orgasm starts barrelling towards you without warning, it somehow gets pushed to the back of your mind, you reach down, threading your fingers through his hair, chanting his name as if it’s all you can say as he groans against your cunt.

His hands hold you down by your thighs, tugging you back to his mouth in soft micro-movements as you shake against him, head thrown back against the pillows with your breath hot in your chest, unable to catch it well enough to form any other sound than moaning unabashedly.

Aemond outright moans as you cum against his tongue, the lewd sound of him licking up everything that comes out makes a heat creep up your neck. But you can’t find it within yourself to be embarrassed. Not when he makes you feel like this.

You can feel the moisture on his face when he takes mercy, drawing his lips away to kiss and nip at the inside of your thighs again, giving one firm bite before he pulls away with a smirk on his face, no doubt happy at the mark he’s left behind.

Your eyes feel heavy as you lift your gaze to him, now perched on his knees as he pops the buttons of his jeans off, the veins on the back of his hand straining, making you feel somewhat lightheaded.

“ - can’t wait to fuck you again - you don’t know how long I’ve wanted be buried inside that pretty little pussy -”

You lick your lips as your mouth goes dry. He always manages to do that. Somehow turn you into a limp, mewling mess in no time at all.

Something you have in common, clearly.

With your heart beating erratically, body throbbing in the afterglow of your orgasm, that feeling is enhanced still when Aemond tugs at his length needily, his shoulders rising and falling with the desire to just stuff himself inside you as deep as he will go.

You can only watch in awe as his fingers wrap around himself, the tip ruddy and desperate, with arousal coating it with every slow and calculated fist. His stomach muscles clench and unclench uncontrollably, his chest muscles moving steadily with each deep breath.

It feels exciting, how utterly small you feel when he leans over you, once again grasping your legs to spread them before him. His long, thick fingers tease your slick folds, before he guides the fat head of his cock to your centre, watching with parted lips at the way your eyebrows furrow in both relief and pleasure as he stretches you around him slowly.

“ - ohfuck - ”, he moans lowly, sinking himself slowly into your warmth and basking in the closeness it offers, “ - fuck, baby, so tight for me -”

Being with him like this again is like sinking into a warm bath, with the rolls of steam batting at your face. And his words are so soft, they’re like dozens of little snowflakes settling on your face in a flurry. All cold and numb, and yet warm and fuzzy at the same time.

It’s completely instinctual, the way you turn your head, slightly embarrassed as Aemond holds either of your legs apart, his pelvis smacking against yours as he eases himself into a steady rhythm.

“ -aw, don’t tell me you’ve gone all shy on me -” he mocks, his eye glimmering with mischief as he looks down at you, “-where’s the needy, little slut I used to know, hm? -”

You gasp as Aemond pushes both hands down, pressing both of your legs towards your shoulders, bending at the knee so that he can kneel higher, using the new position with gravity to fuck down into you faster and rougher.

The new position has you pretzeled before him, completely unable to do anything but throw your head back against the pillows and turn bright red at the wanton, breathy moans that slip out.

“ -Aemond -”

“ - what’s wrong, baby? -” he coos, “ -is this too much for you? Hm? I know you’re more flexible than this -”

Fuck.

Each rough push of his length into you from this angle has the curved head of his cock brush against your sweet spot with devastating precision. With every thrust, the air seems to expel forcefully from your lungs, not helped in part by the fact that Aemond has your legs pressed hard against your ribs.

All you’re able to see through bleary eyes is the way he smirks down at you with his hair stuck to his tacky face, his chest heaving with hurried breath, and every now and then, his neck muscles straining as he tips his head back and groans loudly as you inadvertently squeeze his length when he bullies the end of you.

The air is charged, hot and humid. And you barely register the fact that music is still playing in another room, and that the curtains are pulled back. Though there’s no chance of anyone being able to see you both from how high his apartment is, it still makes your insides tighten that it’s happening so unabashedly with the city right below you.

His hand drifts down your thigh, watching as you squirm beneath him as he presses hard on your stomach, your eyes closing tightly at the feeling of him closing you around his length as it pistons roughly into you. He smiles slightly, almost as if he can feel how deep he reaches inside you.

“ -Oh fuck, baby - can fucking feel you gripping me -” he moans helplessly, leaning over, the sweat on his forehead slightly illuminated by the warm lamp’s light, “-does my girl like being a dirty little slut?”

You barely even register he’s speaking, everything sounding utterly muffled and just too much all at once. His low voice only serves to make that coil wind tighter in your gut, reacting to the way he never lets up his pace once.

You jolt slightly when he taps your cheek twice, a little rougher than you’d anticipated.

“ -I’m fucking talking to you -” he growls, moving his hand from your stomach up to bunch the shirt in his fist, exposing your pebbled nipples to the warmth of the room.

You nod helplessly, “Yes - yes -”

It’s all mindless babbling, and Aemond knows it as he grins, his eye flitting down to watch the way your breasts bounce as he fucks you.

“ -please, Aemond -”

“ -please what, hm? You want to cum, is that it? But you’re too fucked stupid to say it?”

As much as you hate to admit it, his words send a bolt of humiliation through you that does nothing but excite you, your core throbbing around his length with every calculated word he says.

"Aw, poor thing -" he jeers, "- I'm going to have fun with you-"

Wait what?

This isn't said 'fun'?

Oh shit.

Before that familiar coil can wind itself any tighter, Aemond pulls back, grunting as he manhandles your hips to turn you over and his palm cracking against your backside, smirking in victory at the mewl it gets out of you.

The skin there blooms with warmth, more so as Aemond’s tantalisingly hot skin presses against it once more, your lips parting in what can only described as a relieved moan as he slides into you again, his cockhead hitting the spongey end, filling you utterly.

"-Aemo-"

Smack.

"Not my fucking name, Princess. C'mon, you can do it" he purred, pressing his hand against your back, pushing against your spine and forcing your face against the sheets.

A choked moan almost slips out, with him tugging your hips up to him in such a curved position, his cockhead bullies your sweet spot, dragging his length along your sensitive walls, propelling you to an overwhelming orgasm.

"Go on - beg me for it or I won't let you cum-"

The idea of him denying you yet again when you were so close last time just seems utterly unbearable. So despite the humiliation rocking through your core with each harsh smack of his hips, despite the overwhelming heat of the room and most of all, despite your pride.

You do.

"Please - daddy - need it-"

If you could see him, you'd hate it.

Because he grins. Ear to fucking ear like he's wanted to hear it for months.

"Aren't you gonna beg me for permission to touch yourself?"

You suck in a breath, squealing muffled against the sheets as he gives another hard thrust. Clearly, despite appearances, on the verge himself.

"-can I - can I touch myself - please, daddy -"

"-fuck- baby, touch that little clit for me, yeah? - want to feel you cum-"

His voice is strained, pushing you with each thrust further and further against the sheets, your arms near giving out with the weight of him on you. With difficulty, your hand snakes between you and the mattress that constantly dips with how rough Aemond is being, and finds your bud, running the slickness that has collected over it, tying up your pleasure into two feelings.

Aemond’s lips part, staggered breaths the only thing coming out, as he feels your walls flutter around him, looking down at the way your bodies meet with a soft smack every time. You feel so warm and tight, gods he’s wanted to cum since since you started touching him through his jeans.

But now, pulling you by your hips to spear you onto his cock, he’s so so close.

Just wants to feel you first.

“-baby, you’re doing so well for me-” he breathes quickly, his gaze flitting briefly from where he’s pistoning in and out of you, to your sweat slick face, pressed against the sheets, biting your lips harshly as you pleasure yourself in tandem with Aemond’s movements.

As his hand slid down past your hips, his thumb tracing the bottom of your spine, you suck in a harsh breath when he softly grazes over your puckered hole, still fucking shallowly as if to tease you and him into teetering on the edge of a climax.

You're barely able to see behind you, pressed so hard into the sheets, but he looks good fucking you. His chest shines with perspiration, the chain dangling around his neck teasingly, and his abdominal muscles clenching and unclenching with restraint.

And then you see him smile.

"-oh? We've never done this before have we, princess?-"

Oh shit.

After all the exertion of your passion so far, your slick has easily made its way onto your thighs, so Aemond doesn't have to move much to drag some of it on his thumb and circle your hole with light, delicate motions, moistening the area.

Humiliation creeps up onto your face, eyes slipping shut. No guy before has ever really tried to do this. So this is uncharted territory. But despite the brief embarrassment, you have to admit that the feeling of Aemond ever so slightly pressing his thumb against you as he continues to thrust brutally into your cunt just feels new in the most amazing way.

His other hand still grabs the flesh of your ass, tugging you back to his cock in a frantic rhythm. The mewls coming out your mouth now sounding so unlike your own.

Aemond knows by the way your hips move up to meet his touch that you like it, but are too embarrassed to say.

"-how about it, hm? - you want me in both your pretty little fuckholes? -"

"-yes - yes, please daddy, I-"

Making sure his thumb is slick enough, your puckered hole also, he slides in slowly, using the palm of his hand to grasp whatever of your ass cheeks as he can.

You almost hear his choked moan.

"-fuck-, you're so tight here, princess - you gonna let me fuck it one day, hm? - you'd be so fucking good here-"

The batting of his cock against your upper walls has you very nearly sobbing outwardly, combined with the feeling of him in such a new place, pressing in, you'd forgotten you'd stopped pleasuring yourself. Completely embroiled in this feeling.

He chuckles darkly, crooking the digit ever so slightly, leaning over to press against your back "-you'd fucking let me as well, wouldn't you? -"

The curling of his other fingers on the flesh of your backside has him smiling at the sounds it emits from you.

“-did I say stop, hm? Keep touching yourself - cum for me-”

You know that as soon as you do it’s all over.

His voice, combined with all three feelings at once, tugging at that pleasurable spot inside you that has white, hot pleasure soaring through your bloodstream, has a long, choked moan filling the space between you. And you’re surprised to hear that the same sound slips past Aemond’s lips as well, the air of his breath batting against your neck as he tries to bury himself as deep inside you as he possibly can.

You’re trying to suck in breath without really realising it, the earth-shattering orgasm making your body go all rigid for a moment before you relax against the sheets, with the pleasant weight of him above you.

Everything feels warm. His bedroom right now feeling like a large blanket has enveloped you both. It seems a weird thing to think in the moment, with Aemond’s half naked body hunched over you, his cock twitching and pulsing, whimpering as he is still emptying himself inside of you and feeling the aftershocks through your fleshy walls.

All his micro-movements seem overly-sensitive. And when Aemond exhales, lifting himself off your back, lifting your lids to open your eyes feels like the most difficult thing you’ve ever done.

“-sorry-” he whispers cautiously as he pulls his softening cock from you, immediately feeling the warm rush of cum coating your inner thighs.

Warmth blossoms once again to your cheeks as he stays still, and you think he must be staring at the way he leaks from you, sighing in a sort of perverted admiration.

You don’t even have time to open your mouth before his thumb slips out your other hole, only to jolt in shock once it’s immediately replaced by his tongue. All those dulled out endorphins that were dissipating into your limbs feel like they all gather back, and you squeeze your thighs together, fisting the bedsheets so tightly they could’ve torn.

Both of his hands seem to find their home on each asscheek, spreading them so he can easily swirl his talented wet, muscle around your hole, fucking moaning as he does it. All your nerves ring semi-uncomfortably, overstimulation nipping at the edges of the pleasure.

“-fuck, Aemond, no no, please-” you plead, emitting a weary, exhausted laugh when he chuckles and pulls away, landing one softened smack against the flesh.

“-Mm- another time-”

Lethargy pulls at your body as you lay on your front, blinking slowly as you feel the mattress rise, pressing your lips together as Aemond disappears into the en-suite, tucking himself back into his jeans.

A moment later, he comes back with a warm washcloth, offering to clean you up. But you simply smile, pushing yourself to sit up, “I’m good”, you smile, with a flushed face, feeling slightly bashful after what you’d just done together.

One long shower together later, you lay in his bed, looking out at the city beneath, the cascade of brightly coloured lights littering the dark space between buildings. Aemond’s shirt easily reaches to your thighs, with nothing beneath, not having anticipated staying over anywhere today.

Aemond sighs calmly, his chin on the top of your head, pressed against your back, with one of his hands running through the tresses of your hair, every now and then stroking at your scalp, which has your eyes slipping shut at the pleasant feeling.

“Well, princess? Do you like it?” he asks, his voice all soft and tired.

You meet his lilac gaze, tilting your head slightly in question.

“The apartment”.

“It’s perfect”, you smile, reaching up his cheek and running the back of your fingers over it, the scar tissue feeling slightly different in texture over your skin, “you sure you want me to move in?”

He blinks slowly, a smile rising to his lips, his hand coming to yours and pressing a soft, tender kiss to your wrist. And though not directly sexual, it makes your belly do little backflips, feeling so intimate and captivating that warmth floods your skin through his lips.

“Of course, princess. I can't do this without you”.

Aemond Taglist (1): @asp3nxx | @avidreader73 | @bellaisasleep | @boofy1998

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gretavanlace · 2 months

Text

Sugar II (part 8)

Jake Kizska x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: adult content, language, brief illusions to sex, angst, jealousy, etc.

Only two chapters to go and an epilogue, everyone. I’m so grateful that you have taken this little journey with me. Thank you so much for all your kind words, support, and care. You’re all so wonderful ❤️

“Oh my god, Jake,” your eyes are darting around the room like a mouse with a rabid alley cat slinking, famished and cruel, into its path.

Your unease trumps his delighted gloating instantly, “What do you want me to do, sugar? Tell me and I’ll do it.”

When you steal a glance at the window, longing to climb out and disappear, he hops on the train of your thought process right away, “You want me to duck out?”

You know Jake through and through, and staring into his eyes as your heart drums paranoid vibrations into your rib cage, you’re stunned to watch him offer to give up this chance to square off with whom he has come to see as his most bitter rival. That he would do that for you? That all you would have to do is ask and he would crawl out and wander off into the golden afternoon sunshine like an afterthought…

You really do own his whole heart, you realize at the most inopportune of moments. Your grip on his soul is just as tight as his fingers have always clawed down inside yours…fierce and beautiful in their unrelenting grip.

But haven’t you always known? Hasn’t it always been written across his skin? Etched in his gaze? Sculpted into the bow of his lips when he whispers your name? Evident in his touch?

“No,” you shake your head, willing the mess inside of it to go away, rejecting the thought of him leaving. You want him near, you need him near. To let him go right now, even for a second, seems an agonizing punishment that you cannot bear to suffer. No matter the consequences.

“Stay. But please…” you rush over to him, helping him to his feet while stealing glances at the doorway, “Please just behave and follow my lead, okay? Please?”

”Normally, I like it when you use your manners,” he sighs, smoothing out his clothes, as well as a lock of your hair that has fluttered out of place, “But that’s too many pleases and you look petrified. Why?” His voice is suddenly intense yet careful, as is his grip on your arm, “Does he hurt you?”

They idea is entirely laughable, but there’s no time for that, so you brush him off with a swipe of your hand and a flippant, “Don’t be stupid, Jake.”

Without allowing yourself to think it through, you begin ushering him down the hall towards the front room, but what will you find there? Doom or salvation?

How will these pieces fall together? Something solid and heavy in your heart tells you Jake will do as you have asked and play nice, but another facet buried even deeper inside is rocked with anxiety and screaming that it’s only wishful thinking to believe such a fairytale.

”Hey hon,” jovially rings out as he steps in through the garage, “I saw your car! We’re both home early? Looks like the universe knew how much I missed you!”

Jake turns to catch your eye as you shove him along, but you refuse to meet his gaze. You're unsure of what you’ll find there and this isn’t the time for uncertainties.

Would you find sadness threatening to roll hot tears down his cheeks? Anger threatening to boil over in his fiery chocolate irises? Accusation and resentment for what you’re about to subject him to?

Oh god, you can’t do this! Suddenly, and absurdly, you wish you could fade into the gentle, lush, green paint that you had once rolled upon the hallway walls, paying meticulous attention to detail. Build this home, had been the plan…bury him away under paint and sanded cabinets. Art perched on the walls and throw pillows piled on the bed.

You’d love to disappear and leave them perplexed and confused, wondering what became of you. To vanish into nothing like a dust mote blown away upon the lightest, softest breeze.

You’re a coward.

While your thoughts are busy with that, Jake’s are grappling with each other. Tangled up and struggling. He’d very much like to stomp into the front room and shut this man up. With his booming voice calling out how much he’s missed you like he has some claim over you. Like you’re his. Like he doesn’t understand that you could never really be anyone’s because you’re much too good for this whole goddamn world. That you’re precious, like the rarest of stones and anyone who is lucky enough to hold you in their palm should fall on their knees in thanks.

He sounds so fucking common. Does he think you’re common as well? Jake can’t stomach the thought.

So, yes, he’d like to stroll into the room, casual as you please, and announce that he is taking you away from this ridiculous illusion where you play house and pretend to be satisfied. He longs to tell him how he’s made love to you, how he’s fucked you. How you’ve begged for him and swore no one could ever be him. Jake wants to tell him that the ring he put on your finger has been in his mouth, that he spat it out and you didn’t even care. That you hardly even noticed. Jake would almost kill to watch Mr. Wonderful’s face crumple in defeat and loss…

But he loves you far too much, and to say all those things would hurt you, too.

Scar your heart he will not.

He’s shrugging off his suit blazer when you both appear. It’s a mundane action, one that repeats itself nearly every evening, but you stand still and shellshocked, unable to jolt yourself into some semblance of normalcy until Jake subtly nudges you with a ginger elbow.

“Hi,” you begin, a touch too loudly, “Yeah, you’re early! I actually didn’t end up going to work today. Old friend in town. We went to the movies. And then we came here. He wanted to see the house. I…I told him about it. I was just giving him the tour.”

You sound robotic and ridiculous, but he doesn’t appear to notice. Rather, he looks delighted when his eyes land on Jake and recognition settles in.

”Ah, I know you!” He laughs, marching forward with an outstretched hand. “The almost brother in law. Good to finally meet you.”

His grasp on Jake’s hand is strong and sure as he pumps it up and down. The genuine gladness in his gesture makes you want to tear your own hair out in penance.

Or is it the ‘almost brother in law’ moniker that has made you nauseous?

Yes, that’s what you boiled Jacob down to. You had held nothing back about your relationship with Josh…but Jake? You just couldn’t. To speak of him, to share him that way…it had seemed incomprehensible. And how could you ever put it into words, anyway? How could anyone ever understand what he was to you? What he is to you? No, it had seemed best to keep him locked away, silent and safe in your memories. Tucked away in your heart. The boy in the bubble.

Jake’s face is unreadable as he sizes up this opponent before him. This rival who has just unknowingly stepped into the ring. This blissfully unaware adversary. He is a doe who has wandered idly into the path of a dangerously ravenous mountain lion, and he doesn’t even know it. Ignorance really does seem like bliss in this moment, and you long for it.

“Yes, the almost brother in law,” his tone is slightly clipped, but no one, aside from you - and perhaps his brothers - would ever notice. “That’s me. And you are?”

Here we go. He’s going to love this.

They drop hands and a friendly clap lands on Jake’s shoulder. “I’m Jake, too. What are the odds?”

A sharp, satisfied laugh bursts out of Jake, head tipped back, adam’s apple bobbing gleefully, and you long to tell the smug bastard to just shut the hell up, but it’s over quickly enough.

”Yes,” he sighs, with a shake of his head that ends in his eyes blazing holes into your soul, “What are the odds?”

”’Course this one over here calls me by my middle name, James. Says it fits me. No one else does, though, so choice is yours. Man, it’s so great to finally meet you.” He’s prattling on now, never having met a stranger, “You know we’ve got all your work over there in the case. You’re a hell of a guitar player. I tried to learn in high school, mostly to impress girls…never could get it. Anyway…”

Jake is eyeing him like he doesn’t know what to make of this man standing there, cordial and warm, tossing out compliments and bids for conversation.

His eyes are traveling over this unfamiliar being, now so tangible and real, who has had his hands all over you. Who has had his mouth pressed to your precious body, who has whispered against your skin, who has made love to you in the still of the night, and held you, and rested beside you, breathing in tandem. Who has gotten down on one knee and asked you to be his wife.

And you said yes...you said yes.

He wants to hurt him. Both physically and emotionally. He wants to level him. To crush him into nothing. And though this Jake, James, or whatever his name is, isn’t to blame, he wants it all the same. He wishes he could lure him into his palm like a revolting insect and squeeze until he was no more than something vile to be wiped away with a Kleenex.

Instead, he tilts his head in the direction of the vinyls and shrugs off the accolades, “Fuckin’ Zeppelin cover band.”

James laughs uproariously and gestures into the room welcomingly, “Why are we all standing around like this? Have a seat…please. Make yourself at home. Can I get you something to drink? Water? A beer? Whiskey? I know it’s early, but special occasions call for special circumstances, I always say.”

Eyes on you, he shrugs out a response that would be lost on anybody but you, “I’ll have what you’re having.”

Once you’re alone for a moment, he shakes his head with a gorgeous, if not self-satisfied, smirk sparking to life upon his face. “His name is Jake? Oh, sugar…” he’s laughing softly now, and sinking down into the cushions of the couch, “creature of habit, aren’t you, pretty girl?”

”Shut up!” You hiss, eyes flickering towards the kitchen doorway, “Coincidence. That’s all. Don’t be so fucking full of yourself. Now, please just be nice.”

He quiets down, drawing the back of his forefinger beneath his eye dramatically as if he has laughed himself to tears, “I’m being very nice and you know it. Don’t push it.”

You sit, as far away from him as the couch will allow, but instantly he’s leaned in close. “What do you think he would do if I got down on my knees right here and buried my face in that gorgeous little cunt of yours? Showed him how it’s really done.”

”Jacob!” You barely make a sound as you admonish him with a clipped shove to settle him.

He slinks back into his seat with another laughing shake of his head, “This is perfect.”

”I hate you.” You lie.

”Sure you do, sugar,” he winks, crossing his legs to get comfy, “Sure you do. Almost brother in law, huh? Is that what I’ve been reduced to?”

He’s still chuckling quietly to himself while a strange mix of panic and tears begins to churn around inside of you like a slow moving summer storm. He’s gearing up, you can feel it, and the thought of it all is too much, your metaphorical knees are beginning to shake. This could end so, so badly.

“Later, Jake…” you’re beseeching without shame, pleading with your watery gaze. “We’ll talk about it later. Please just stop.”

His palm cradles your cheek so softly you wonder if anyone has ever touched someone as gently as he touches you, “Settle down, baby. I won’t make trouble for you.”

How laughable that he can’t seem to recognize that you’ve brought this trouble on all by yourself. No help needed.

He has moved to create a respectable distance between the two of you by the time James is sweeping back into the room bearing a tray flush with drinks and snacks.

”Here, sweetie,” he drops a kiss upon the top of your head, presenting a glass. “Made you a mimosa…I know you like to keep it light through the week.”

You somehow manage a thank you and sip at the sweet, bubbly mix, praying it calms your frayed nerves.

”For us,” he extends the tray and you watch as Jake plucks a low ball glass from it, “bourbon. Unless you’d rather browse the bar. Plenty to choose from.”

”Bourbon is fantastic,” Jake nips at his glass. “Thank you.”

There is a palpable disdain hovering around Jake like a murky aura, but there is heartbreak there too. Aching and black. Heavy and weighing down the light that normally follows him around like a strange shadow…and you’d give anything to take it away.

For just a breath, you intend to do just that. To rise to your feet and stomp all over James’ open, trusting heart. To tell him the truth. To tell him you’re leaving. You nearly take Jake by the hand and drag him towards the door and leave everything else behind without explanation…simply to end his suffering.

Your lips nearly part to say the words when you’re cut off.

“Oh. I almost forgot,” James leans forward in his chair and grabs for your hand, absently running his thumb against your own, “Erin called. She said you guys had a great time the other day, said you’d planned something for this weekend? Wedding planning?”

Erin. His sister. You’ve grown close but it wouldn’t hurt to leave her behind. It wouldn’t even sting…not for Jake.

You squeeze his hand with a tiny smile and fight rolling nausea at the mere mention of the wedding in Jake’s presence. From the corner of your eye, you watch him tense, but he recovers quickly and drains his glass to the dredges in one pull.

”Well,” suddenly, he’s on his feet. “I’ve taken enough of your time today. It was good to see you.” His eyes are unreadable and shift quickly away from your own. “James, good to meet you and thank you for the hospitality.”

”Don’t run off on my account,” James is on his feet now as well, “We’d love to have you stay for dinner. I make a mean chicken Kiev, and…”

”No,” Jake interrupts, gaze jumping towards the door as if he can’t get away fast enough. “I’ve got a flight to catch in just a few hours, need to head back…you know how it goes.”

He sounds ineloquent and so unlike himself… and you can feel it - his heartbreak - in your bones as though you’ve crawled inside his body and curled up beside it like a clinging lover.

“Jake,” you can’t seem to move from your seat, your body uncooperative and rebellious, “Your car is still at the theater, let me drive you…”

”Drive me?” He is staring at you, white hot and desperate…the mask is finally slipping. He has played pretend all he can for the day. “And then what?”

”And then…” again, you are a coward. A fucking coward. “I don’t know. What do you mean, and then?”

The room is silent for a beat - with words unspoken crashing into the space between yourself and Jake, and James struggling to understand this strange exchange.

With the slightest nod of his head, Jacob silently encourages you. Urges you. Come with me, sugar…it seems to say, come home.

But still you sit, frozen and paralyzed. A horrified doe staring down the hunter’s muzzle.

Another nod, clipped and more obvious this time, responds to your inaction. “I’ll walk. Again, thank you for having me.”

The door closes behind him in a blink, and he is gone. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve imagined him completely…

Looking down at your shaking hands in your lap, you realize you never even made it to your feet. You sat, unmoving, and watched him go.

Hours later, you’re standing outside an unfamiliar door, anxiously clutching at the straps of the bag tossed over your shoulder.

And when that unfamiliar door swings open, your heart unclenches, for there he stands. Showered, smelling of soap and warmth, hair curled into dampened, loose ringlets, beat to hell jeans riding low on his hips.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” he smirks, leaning against the doorframe. “If it isn’t Mrs. Wonderful…”

“Hi,” it comes out meek and small, but flush full of the comfort that is being near him.

”How’d you find me?” His arms cross loosely, with a faded smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

”Were you hiding?” Why hasn’t he turned to lead you in?

”From you, pretty girl?” He scoffs as if the very idea is preposterous. “Never.”

Yet, on he stands as though barring your entrance…as though he intends to send you on your way any moment.

”I called Josh,” you offer, wringing at your bag’s handles idly, simply for something to do with your hands. “He told me where you were staying.” Your gaze skitters over the house. “It’s nice. Cozy.”

He nods, “Airbnb. You mentioned something about us always being in hotels, before. I thought, if there was a chance I’d be hosting you, you might like something a little more…domestic. Though, I see now that you have plenty of that going for you already, right? Domesticity?”

“Do I deserve that?”

His shoulders hunch inwardly slightly, he knows you’re right, and he knows he’s being a bit of an asshole as well. “No, I suppose you don’t.”

”Are you going to invite me in? I feel a little stupid standing out here.” Vulnerability seems of such insignificance when it is Jacob in question. He knows your bare soul so well anyway.

Still, he allows you to dangle on his string, twisting languidly in the soft, evening breeze. “Why’d you call Josh to find me? Why not just call me? Missing my better half now that you’ve had a bit of fun with me?”

Now there’s a slight irritation traipsing along your nerves, and damned if you’re going to mask it. “Alright, either let me in or tell me to go to hell. I’m not going to beg for your good graces.”

”Are you coming in to stay? Or are you here to say goodbye? Because my heart has had enough for one day.”

”Oh, fuck off, Jacob.” You huff, pushing past him into the house. You slump your bag off your shoulder and onto the floor and then turn on him. “Sorry to have interrupted your pity party, but what did you think was going to happen today? Did you think it was going to be spectacular and wonderful to walk around in the life that I live with someone else? You practically fucked me in the bedroom I share with him. You lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree when you realized he was home. You wanted this, and you know what I think your problem is? I think you liked him.”

”Fuck you!” He slams the door closed and looks you over like you’ve lost your mind entirely. “You think I liked him? I couldn’t give a fuck less about him. He made my skin crawl. Do you know what it was like for me to watch him touch you? The way he looked at you…”

He falls silent and suddenly refuses to meet your eyes, and your heart breaks right alongside his.

Tentatively, you reach out and rest your palm against his cheek, “The way he looked at me doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. It never really has.”

His hand floats up to meet yours, “He looked at you with so much love. Like he would give you the entire world. It made me feel not good enough. It made me feel like I should leave and let it be. Like I was wrong for showing up and rattling your whole life around.”

You’re backing him up against the door now, his gorgeous, stricken face held fast in your sure and gentle hands. “Not good enough? You? Oh, Jakey…” you pet at his face worshipfully, “We have a garden, remember? And you help me harvest, and I know you feed me those tiny tomatoes I like. You know? The little yellow ones? And they’re all gone before we even get inside.”

He’s nodding along as you pepper kisses upon his cheeks and forehead.

“And we have a porch swing, and a piano, and beautiful babies, and a cat…and you sing to us, and love us hard every single minute of every single day. And you make us so, so happy. And I wake up every morning with a smile on my face because I packed this stupid bag,” your foot darts out and kicks it, “and shoved my way inside when you refused to invite me in.”

”Don't say things you don’t mean, sugar…” his hands are in your hair now, guiding your mouth to his own so that he can lick inside it. He needs to taste you - needs to feel the silken velvet of your tongue, “I can’t take it, baby.”

You’re breathing each other's breath, lips like feathers dancing together soft and sweet, holding on to one another as if you might both just vanish into nothing in an instant, “I mean it, Jake…” you promise, “I mean it. You are everything,”

You can almost hear the pounding of his heart as the heat of his need begins to radiate and warm you, “Because I can’t stand the thought of leaving, of thinking you’ll follow, only for you to change your mind. It would kill me, sugar. So, please don’t say these things to me if you—“

You silence him with a deep, feverish kiss and then break away, forehead to forehead, “I’m not following later. I’m coming with you. This is where I am now…with you.”

Tears well in his eyes and spill over, hot and saline, as you lick and kiss them away. “I love you, pretty girl…” it chokes out of him, rasping as he swallows thickly, “I love you so fucking much. I’ve imagined this moment in so many different ways, but it was never as perfect as this. Tell me you know how much I love you.”

”I know, and I—“ it is he who interrupts with a desperate kiss this time.

And you know that later he will ask, and when he asks you will tell him what was said back at that house that broke his heart in two - how you ended things with the one who really never mattered at all…

…but for now all that matters is the taste of him on your lips. His air-drying hair looped through your searching fingers. Your hearts and lungs syncing, with his tears like brackish diamonds in your stomach because you have finally swallowed his sorrow and unburdened him from it.

He seems lighter in your arms already…closer now to the sun than he had ever been to the moon before.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @thelvnternskeeper @paintmyhouse @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie @hugorobinson @jaketlove @josh-iamyour-mama

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet fan fiction #fanfic #greta van fic #greta van smut #gvf fic #jake gvf #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake kiskza #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fanfic #josh kiszka #josh kiskza smut #gvf josh #gvf one shot #gvf smut

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lazyjellyfish300 · 2 months

Text

Traitor💔

Miguel O'Hara x Spider-Woman Reader

Synopsis: A blurb detailing your heartbreak from Miguel inspired by some breakup songs. Word count 1.5k ish. Meant to be a one shot. (JK, I MADE AN EPILOGUE)

A/N: had this idea after @prettyinpink350 commented that The Woman He Didn't Choose part 1 reminded them of All Too Well-10 minute version by Taylor Swift. I imagine getting your heart broken by him would SUCK. The man has such a tragic backstory, it would take a long long time to get him to be comfortable with getting hurt again and vulnerable, possibly hurting whoever he's dating or seeing in the process if their expectations don't align. I think that ATSV and the comic version of him are different however, it's possible some of the personality traits would stay consistent and so as a result he might struggle with infidelity. I think he's had his fair share of experiences.

BUT I do still write sweet, fluffy soft Miguel, though. Because I do believe he has a soft side that exists and it's unfair imo to write him off as completely incapable of being a good partner because I believe he can. I imagine it'll be a tough road but he would eventually get there. He's a complex man and I love him anyway. 🫶🏽 Working on DD part 9 and the woman he didn't choose I promise, I've been dead lately in terms of motivation.

TW: MINORS DNI, ANGST, CHEATING (I DON'T CONDONE THIS), HEARTBREAK, BREAKUP, MIGUEL IS MORE COLD IN THIS, SMUT ( IT'S BRIEF, P IN V, DEGRADATION, SPANKING), age gap(reader is 26, Miguel is like 34-35), no happy ending

The songs that inspired this(all rights to rightful owners, some of the lyrics were tweaked slightly):

----

It was her. It was always going to be her.

🎶I was just the villain built to come between you two.

I'm just the other point of view. 🎶

It's the movie where the guy gets the girl in the end. She's the one that got away but then comes back into his life, lighting up his world, making him realize his new girlfriend would never come close.

That all too familiar shift in the way he acted when she moved back into the city. When you noticed how he started looking at you with a gaze that was clearly being stolen by someone else. You decided to ask him about it and he dismissed you with a shake of his head, calling you paranoid.

🎶Brown guilty eyes and little white lies

Yeah, I played dumb but I always knew🎶

Now he brings her around, almost as though to shut you down on purpose. Showing her off like a brand new trophy.

If any of the sweet nothings he told you were true, there's simply no damn way that he could have fallen in love again so quickly...

🎶Ain't it funny....🎶

----

But months later

🎶You call me up again just to break me like a promise.🎶

The 1 am call you know you shouldn't answer but you do anyway.

"She's not here.......Please, I need you."

And there you go, jumping in the shower for a quick rinse and brushing your teeth, speeding towards his apartment like a dumb ass.

------

"Fuck......FUCK! God baby...so fucking tight.....I missed this pussy, fuck...."

A shower of sharp spanks land on your ass, one after another, after another as Miguel thrusts his cock into you from behind.

"Yes.....harder, baby.....HARDER!"

"Yeah?....You would fucking like that, wouldn't you....Needy little slut....mmmm you like it when I fuck you like this, huh? Can't get enough can you? "Had to come crawling back for more of this cock?"

Every word stings harder than the slaps he's giving you but it's a sick, twisted, erotic feeling. You actually love it. The fact that he's still craving your pussy even though he's supposedly with his dream woman. The fact that you're still on his mind as soon as she leaves.

The fact that you're in his bed right now, not her. Even if only just for tonight.

"Fuck....yes.....baby.....can't get enough of you....mmmmm fuck I missed you so much....."

"Say that again."

"Missed you so much Miggy...."

"¿Cuánto?..." (how much)

"So fucking much....I crave you all the time....."

Miguel lets out a loud groan and you practically scream as he pounds you without mercy into his mattress he shared with the other woman.

Shortly after, you're laying all fucked out, panting as you close your eyes, decelerating from the heavenly orgasm he pulled out of you, only for it to shrivel up when you feel your clothes land in a pile next to your head.

"She'll be back any minute....you gotta hurry."

"What?" You sit up, confused.

Miguel's too busy taking a shower, trying to rid himself of your scent. The damning evidence of someone else in his bed while she was gone.

You immediately regret ever coming over.

You're about to rip him a new one but your spider senses tingle. You can feel her ascending the staircase. You throw on your leggings and hoodie and swing away into the night without saying goodbye.

-----

You let him have it on the phone later.

"I wish you thought through all of this before you strung me along and made me fall in love with you..."

Miguel stands outside his apartment, he had to sneak down to take your call as soon as he was sure she was asleep. He tenses his jaw. He feels guilty but there's not much he can do about it now.

"She's older...more mature. I need to be with someone who's able to understand and live with my responsibilities. I shouldn't have given us a chance, but I did because I needed to move on from her.... I can't help that I've known her since we were kids. She gets me."

🎶So casually cruel in the name of being honest. 🎶

"Oh and I don't? I don't Miguel? So all those times I stayed up with you, crying, holding you and promising you I wasn't going anywhere, those didn't happen? Or the fact that I saw you lose it completely multiple times and still called you the next day? The fact that I was willing to let go all the times you let me down because I knew it wasn't your fault and the fate of the multiverse comes before everything else? I literally loved you at your worst, but that didn't matter?"

Silence.

"Look, I just think that maybe if we had been closer in age, we would've been fine."

🎶And that sentence made you want to die. 🎶

"That's not fucking fair, Miguel! I'm 26, not a baby! And we spoke CANDIDLY about this when we got together. I NEVER had, not even a HINT that this would be a problem for you, and now you drop it on me right as you tear my heart out?! And it's not even something I can change!"

You pause, more sobs erupting deep from within your soul.

"I'm sorry, that the stars didn't align and the timing wasn't perfect and my dad didn't fuck my mom around the same time as yours so I could've been born at a better time. I'm sorry that I tried so fucking hard to be the chill girlfriend who lets you do whatever even though I'm not. I'm sorry that I kept my fucking mouth shut when I knew damn well you were talking to her when we were together just so I could keep you around. I'm sorry that I'm not her..."

The line is painfully silent.

🎶The idea you had of me, who was she?🎶

"So who's this version of me in your head you envisioned, huh Miguel? The perfect me that would've made you stay. Do I even know her? She's me, but she's not. She's not needy like I am. She's perfect. Has the perfect body, perfect hair, doesn't ever look bad for you. She's intelligent and has all the maturity you claim I don't. She reflects back on you perfectly every little thing you just LOVE about yourself because let's face it, that's the only person you really ever gave a fuck about."

Loud beeps assault your eardrum and you scoff in disbelief. He hung up, and who knows how long you were just talking to a wall. You hurtle your phone at the ground, letting the screen crack as your knees buckle beneath you and hide your face in your hands in despair.

🎶When she's sleeping in the bed we made, don't you dare forget about the way you betrayed me.

Cause I know that you'll never feel sorry, for the way I hurt, yeah. 🎶

----

Trying to forget him as the weeks passed by ,albeit agonizingly slow. You find yourself weeping in the HQ bathroom, some girl asking you what happened:

🎶You. That's what happened, you. 🎶

A few weeks later, a package with all of your clothes arrived at the post office for you so he didn't have to see you face to face. It even contained all of the pictures you took together and the letters you wrote him. He didn't keep a single one.

You sat in the parking lot for a few minutes as you clutched the Disneyland tickets to your heart, sobbing. The cruel, cruel irony of remembering how you were in the happiest place on earth with him, the place that planted those dreams of happily ever after in that little girl's head, only for her to be crying over a man that stomped it into the ground years later.

Remembering how you walked back, arm in arm to your hotel room together as you leaned into his chest, giggling when you finally got him to admit the park wasn't as dreadful as he thought it would be, despite the ridiculous price tag. He only wanted to make you happy.

🎶I remember it all too well. 🎶

Your lip trembles when you find the Mickey Ears you bought for him lying in the box. "Miguel" cross-stitched in curly gold writing on the back.

Your red scarf from that first week together hung in the corner of his closet until your scent wore off. He would eventually have the gall to offer it to her one December night when she was shivering, saying that it was his mother's.

----

Your tears make your vision blurry as you drive down the dark, rain soaked streets of Nueva York.

You know his street is coming.

When you do finally pass it, you use all your strength to keep your gaze straight ahead, the faded letters on his street sign disappear rapidly behind you as you take a deep breath, and head on home.

----

Epilogue

#miguel o'hara #miguel atsv #spotify #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara smut #across the spiderverse #miguel o hara angst #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x fem!reader #Spotify

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elyvorg · 3 months

Text

Kieran Part 2: It’s All About YOU

Well, looks like The Indigo Disk didn’t remotely drop the ball – it caught it in incredible style! Pokémon’s best character-writing job yet has been followed up and capped off with, if anything, something even better. Kieran is far and away the most complex and well-written character that mainline Pokémon has ever achieved, and I am here to talk about the second half of why this is, in very great detail. Consider me just, blown away. I have So Many Feelings about this boy.

This is of course a follow-up to my earlier analysis post about Kieran’s character and arc during The Teal Mask, which you can find here. Reading that before this is recommended!

(This will contain a couple of brief references to some post-epilogue lines, so if you haven’t got to that stuff yet and you really care about seeing it completely fresh, you might want to hold off on reading this for now. But there’s no actual spoilers for the epilogue itself in here, because, whoops, I think I’m gonna have to cover all of that in yet another post of its own.)

(Like last time, I will be largely referring to the player character as “you” for convenience, although I may shift into third person occasionally when I’m talking about the vague implications of a personality that they are given, since that’s a little more relevant this time.)

The gaping pit of inferiority

First, though, before getting into The Indigo Disk, I want to re-establish where Kieran’s character ended up at the end of Teal Mask, now that I have a clearer idea of exactly how that relates to where things are headed.

Kieran was always gripped by an aching inferiority complex, one too huge and unbearable for him to ever face directly. Prior to Teal Mask, he’d coped with that by clinging to the figure of the ogre as an ideal of strength. He imagined that maybe one day if he managed to grow strong enough to be just like it, the ogre would acknowledge him and be his friend – and that would finally mean that he mattered and he really was strong after all. He finally wouldn’t have to deal with the crushing pain of his inferiority complex any more.

But then, of course, you swept in with your amazingly perfect protagonist strength, ripping away Kieran’s chance of ever befriending Ogerpon and doing so in the most tragically agonising way possible that only seemed to validate and hammer home to him just how hopelessly weak he really is. Left with nothing but an even bigger gaping pit of inferiority inside him, and no longer able to cling to the idea of Ogerpon as a way for him to one day escape it, the only thing Kieran could do in order to cope was find something else to latch onto: you.

You became a greater ideal of strength to Kieran than even Ogerpon ever was during the events of Teal Mask, so now he’s hung everything on the thought of making himself strong enough to prove he’s just as good as you. If he can become strong enough to beat you, surely that of all things will be enough to prove that he matters and isn’t weak at all. It’s the only thing he can conceive of that might just free him from the grip of his terrifyingly massive inferiority complex, and he’s clinging onto it for dear life, striving for it to the point of obsession.

I saw a lot of people talk in the lead-up to this DLC like it was going to be about Kieran wanting revenge on you, but that’s not remotely it. He isn’t even able to comprehend the idea that anything you did to him could be considered wrong in the first place; that’s just how things were meant to go when you’re strong and he’s weak, right? Even though it was you who took everything away from him and made him feel so crushingly inferior, that pales in his mind next to how incredibly strong you are and how badly he needs to be like that himself. This isn’t even about him getting another shot at winning over Ogerpon, either – as much as you having become her trainer is a huge source of pain and jealousy for him, he seems to have pretty much accepted that there’s no changing that now.

What Kieran actually, consciously wants out of all this is… well, it’s extremely vague and nebulous, but that’s precisely the point, because there is no rationality involved in any of it. What is he really hoping to gain from it, when (if) he beats you? For you to decide to be his friend after all? For him to instantly become happy and finally feel strong? For him to magically turn into you and have all the good things you have that he envies about you? Obviously none of those things would necessarily happen, but Kieran is not consciously thinking any of this through to its logical endpoint. He’s not actually hoping to get a specific Thing out of beating you – he just desperately, indescribably feels like he needs to beat you, more than anything else in the world.

What Kieran really needs out of this deep down is for you, this person he’s warped himself into idolising as the Strongest Most Perfect Person Ever, to acknowledge him and his strength. It’s just like he wanted Ogerpon to acknowledge him before, shifted onto a new target of idolisation and grown far more desperately obsessive. If you of all people acknowledged him, then just maybe it might actually be true that he really is strong and worth something after all. At its most fundamental level, Kieran has always just deeply needed to gain a sense of self-worth, and yet his self-esteem is so horribly low that he’s basically incapable of doing so on his own without outside validation. But I really don’t think he’s aware on a conscious level that this is what he needs and what he’s striving to get out of all this.

(And of course there’s no way you’d ever acknowledge him and his worth as a person anyway, right? He thought you’d maybe done that when you called him a friend back in Kitakami, but any fleeting hope of gaining self-worth that way evaporated when you went and lied to him, validating his fears that obviously you’d couldn’t possibly have meant it. After all, why would someone as strong as you ever want to be friends with someone weak like him? The only way you’d ever possibly acknowledge his worth is if he conclusively proved that he’s even stronger than you, by defeating you in battle.)

Blueberry Academy

The other thing I want to do before getting into the events of The Indigo Disk itself is to re-evaluate a few assumptions I made about Blueberry Academy in the previous post, now that we’ve actually seen it for ourselves.

I was assuming that a significant part of the reason for Kieran’s inferiority complex was due to him being bullied at Blueberry, but… there’s absolutely zero indication from any of the NPC dialogue that any such thing happened. If the writers wanted this to be a fact that was relevant to Kieran’s character, they absolutely would have put something in. However, in hindsight, I realise that maybe I was primed to assume a bullying problem at Blueberry due to the Team Star storyline, when actually, Kieran being bullied there doesn’t necessarily fit. His issues about being shunned and his paranoia that people are laughing at him behind his back are so ingrained that they have to have originated from quite a while ago in his childhood – and he’s only a first-year at Blueberry.

So, scratch that part of the previous post: Kieran was not bullied at Blueberry Academy, but he was almost certainly bullied earlier on in his childhood, at whatever school(s) he attended beforehand. It wouldn’t necessarily have needed to be a really overt, physical kind of bullying either – that’s the sort of thing that Carmine would certainly have noticed and protected him from. But even something more low-key like being constantly left out of things and looked down on by others would have left a huge psychological mark on him, and would have probably been too subtle for his socially oblivious sister to do much about. (Or, in some ways, she might just have made such things worse by being so fiercely overprotective of him. Most people wouldn’t want to go near the kid with the Scary Big Sister who’ll bite their head off if they so much as look at him wrong.)

Bullying aside, I was looking for any kind of clues at all from the NPCs as to what Kieran was like at Blueberry Academy before his big change… and there’s almost nothing. Plenty of people comment on Kieran now, because everyone knows who he is as the Champion, but nobody shows surprise that it was this timid kid who rose up and beat Drayton. It seems that as far as most of the students are concerned, he just came out of nowhere. But maybe that’s the point; maybe almost nobody ever even noticed him or thought anything of him at all until he grew stronger. By the time he joined Blueberry Academy, Kieran’s default coping mechanism must have been to make himself as small and invisible as possible, so that basically nobody even really thought twice about him.

Only two whole NPCs actually make any kind of reference to what Kieran was like before he became Champion. (Well, other than Carmine, of course, and also discounting Amarys because she’d have only known Kieran through her friendship with his sister.) One of them is Drayton, who’d noticed him as the incredibly shy kid who nonetheless lit up with joy more than anyone else when watching battles. And then there is one random NPC you can find in the Central Plaza who comments on how Kieran has turned into a completely different person. That’s it. Only two people happened to have noticed this timid kid enough to realise he’s the same guy who suddenly became Champion. (And, while they both seem at least a little concerned, neither of them appear to have outright considered Kieran a friend, because of course not. You really were the first friend he’d ever managed to make, until everything went horribly wrong.)

One thing I was expecting to get from the vibe at Blueberry that it absolutely did deliver, mind you, was the culture around battling. There’s all sorts of talk about battling and getting stronger, double battles as standard to make things more strategic, and even the random NPC trainers can actually be kind of challenging. So I was definitely right that this culture must have contributed to Kieran fixating on getting stronger and proving himself to you through gaining more battling strength in particular. One NPC near the entrance also remarks that “you don’t look strong”, as if people here assume battling strength to be correlated with physical appearance, which… yeah, that explains a bit about why Kieran felt he needed to look different alongside becoming stronger in battle, doesn’t it.

Changing himself

Of course, Kieran’s reasons for changing up his appearance go much deeper than just wanting to superficially “look stronger”. In order to achieve the nigh-impossible feat of managing to match you in strength, he felt like he had to become nothing short of a completely different person. He can’t be anything like that timid, weak, pathetic kid from Kitakami who got walked all over, because there’s no way that kid would ever, ever be able to beat you.

Which means that absolutely everything about who he used to be needed to get thrown away. That hairstyle that practically covered his face and let him hide himself behind it? Gone. His country accent and way of talking due to being raised in Kitakami? That always made him feel different and outcast among the students at Blueberry already, but more than that, it’s a distinctive feature of that kid he used to be and cannot be any more, so he had to cast it away and learn to mask it. Even the unambiguously good parts of him – the way he’d always get so excited and passionate over things he finds cool! – they’re a part of his old self, so they had to go, no exceptions. Far be it from him to ever say “wowzers” any more, for more than one reason. His old hairstyle may have been the one that visually resembled a mask, but now he’s putting on much more of a metaphorical mask than he ever was before. (Putting on a mask to become stronger and hide his reasons to be cast out and shunned – a bit like a certain ogre.)

(And since Kieran’s just on the cusp of puberty, I find it fun to imagine that maybe his voice happened to start breaking in the interim between the two DLCs, so that he doesn’t just talk differently and mask his accent, his voice literally sounds different now compared to how it did before.)

Unfortunately for Kieran, no amount of fervently doing everything in his power to change and grow stronger can make his growth spurt come any sooner. It seems it hasn’t happened quite yet, leaving him awkwardly still the smallest person in the room even as he is trying to project an air of being Strong and Tough now. He gets around this as best he can by adopting a mannerism of taking a step back from people, to give him less of an angle to look up at, and tilting his head far enough back that he can kinda sorta still be looking down on them, in a sense. He is so desperate to not feel small any more.

(Fittingly – or ironically, perhaps – you are the one relevant person who is the same height as Kieran and can face him eye-to-eye. That’s bound to be feeding into his complex about you: all the other people he looked up to and saw as stronger than him were older than him and so they had a good reason to be that strong – but you and he are the same age. You should be his equal, and yet you can already do and have all these things that he could only dream of.)

And his timid demeanour isn’t the only thing from before that Kieran cast away – he also got rid of almost his entire team of Pokémon from those battles back in Kitakami. Nearly all of them went the same way as poor Furret and Cramorant before them, because they weren’t strong enough to win him that vital battle that would definitely have decided who got to become Ogerpon’s partner (right?), so there’s no way they’d ever be able to help him beat you now. The only exception to this is Dipplin, perhaps precisely because Kieran knew it was capable of evolving again and so still had more strength it had yet to show him. The rest of his team got completely overhauled, no doubt informed by his fervent studies in battling strategies to let him put together the strongest and most optimal team he could come up with.

I nearly had a whole spiel here about how excruciating it is that his new team has a Politoed, in that he could almost have kept another of his old partners from his Kitakami team if he hadn’t hastily evolved Poliwhirl into the less strategically-optimal evolution as part of his efforts to prove himself to you during Teal Mask. Except, actually, a postgame line implies that Kieran’s Politoed is also a longtime partner of his, along with his Poliwrath, like they’re a pair. So it’s not that he went and caught a “replacement” Poliwag that he was less attached to – apparently he always had two Poliwag friends from the start and just only ever trained up one of them to use against you in Teal Mask. Then, when that one had failed to be good enough for him, it was the other one’s turn to prove how strong it could really be.

As for his other new team members: Porygon-Z and Incineroar are both available in the Terarium, but Grimmsnarl is only available, to Kieran at least, in Kitakami. So that must be another one he’d caught during the school trip, maybe a candidate he’d considered training up back then but never quite had the time to alongside the rest of his team. And then there’s Dragonite, which is an interesting one, because the Dratini line is nowhere in either Kitakami or the Terarium – meaning, Kieran must have gone out of his way to trade for it in order to get one. Perhaps he was really impressed by the strength of Drayton’s Dragonite and wanted one of his own to match that? (but his has a very different build to Drayton’s, so it’s fine, he’s definitely not just copying Drayton in order to win, okay.) I like to think that maybe he got it from Carmine, who’d apparently been visiting loads of other regions with Briar during Kieran’s obsessive training arc and therefore could have been in a position to catch a Dratini.

More importantly than just catching these new Pokémon, though, would have been training them, which Kieran threw himself into so obsessively that it and studying battling strategies now consume every single moment he has, to a concerningly unhealthy degree. He’s cutting back on sleep, barely eating proper meals, because spending any more time than necessary on even things like basic physical needs is not acceptable to him. You are so overwhelmingly, impossibly strong in his mind that, in order to match your strength, Kieran feels like he has to give everything, no matter the cost to himself.

Being Champion

And, well, his fervent desperate self-destructive training did indeed make him strong enough to become Champion of the BB League. It’s only a stepping stone, a means to an end for his ultimate goal of being strong enough to beat you – but it’s something. As Champion, Kieran’s known to everyone in the school, getting awed murmurs wherever he shows up. People respect him now, because he’s proven that he's strong. (The very converse of how everyone ignored and shunned him back when he was weak. That’s how it goes, right?) And on top of that, he’s earned himself a position of authority over everyone in the League Club.

…Frankly, it’s a very stupid rule the club has to make the Champion be automatically in charge of the whole thing, precisely because of situations like this, in which the trainer who happens to be strongest also happens to be someone nobody else wants bossing them around. But thanks to that stupid rule existing, Kieran’s in charge now, and everyone else has to do what he says whether they like it or not, because he’s the strongest of all of them. Way to validate and perpetuate Kieran’s toxic worldview that having strength (battling strength) means you get to call the shots and walk all over anybody who’s weaker than you, and that’s just how things work.

Our first glimpse of how drastically Kieran’s changed, the interaction we see him having with that one poor club member, is bound to be the epitome of how he’s been treating everyone in the club these days. And he is not simply being a dick for the hell of it just because he can now and he’s turned Edgy or whatever – everything about his behaviour here is agonisingly rooted in his own deeply ingrained worldview about strength and weakness.

It's so tragically telling how he phrases his scathing disapproval of the poor guy as, “So that means you’re just OK being this weak forever? That what I’m hearing?” That’s not at all what the guy was saying, but Kieran hears it that way because he can’t help but see his own former, weaker self everywhere he looks. At the end of Teal Mask, he was trapped in that horrible pit of feeling like there was nothing he could do except be this weak forever, unless he devoted himself obsessively to becoming stronger and stronger and stronger with everything he had. Any tiny sign of weakness in anybody else reminds him of that place, reminds him that the only reason he’s not trapped there himself right now is because he’s spending every waking moment trying to claw his way out.

The guy’s reason for not completing Kieran’s training assignment wasn’t even that he didn’t want to do it. He said he’d had hectic stuff going on at home that meant he didn’t have time, which ought to be a perfectly reasonable excuse! But… not to Kieran, it isn’t. Kieran has sacrificed everything to become as strong as he is, even basic physical self-care; he would have chosen training over busy home-life stuff in a heartbeat. Anyone who isn’t willing to do the same, anyone to whom growing stronger isn’t the most important thing in the world – they’re not good enough. They must obviously just want to stay weak forever, like Kieran himself absolutely could not bear to be. So he kicks the poor guy out of the club, thus dooming him, in Kieran’s view, to really being stuck this weak forever with no chance to improve.

It's bound to be just like this for everyone else in the club, too, based on plenty of comments we hear about how Kieran becoming Champion has taken the fun out of everything, and the ridiculously strict rules he’s apparently put in place. He’s projecting his own unhealthily high standards of strength onto everyone else, then shunning them if they don’t manage to live up to that, because that’s just what happens to people who are weak, right? It is agonising to watch Kieran perpetuating the exact same toxicity that he used to always feel like he was on the receiving end of, especially as that isn’t even really why he was ever treated that way.

None of this is the behaviour of someone who is even remotely secure and confident in their strength. Despite being Champion and having the respect of the entire school, Kieran is still constantly terrified that even the slightest thing, even so much as allowing a tiny instance of “weakness” in anyone associated with him, will cause all of the strength he’s worked so hard to build to come crashing down in an instant. (One detail I really love about the scene where he’s telling that one guy off is the way Kieran’s tapping his foot at the beginning. He probably means it as a way to express impatience, but really it comes across as incredibly anxious and insecure. The animators did some excellent stuff with Kieran in this DLC.)

And what’s extra heartbreaking is that Kieran doesn’t need to be doing any of this. He’s the Champion now; he is undeniably strong; he’s able to talk to others; people notice and respect him. He is already in a position to reach out and grasp everything he’s ever wanted: acknowledgement, friendship, fun. He used to love battling – he’s supposed to love battling – so he could be having a great time with all this! If he just dropped this toxic mindset and stopped letting it turn him into a massive jerk, he could make friends with the Elite Four and others in the League Club and not be alone any more!

But he’s not able to see any of that. None of the things he’s already genuinely gained for himself truly feel like they matter, not when they’re all just a means to an end for the one thing that does – proving he can beat you. By desperately hanging his entire self-worth on the idea of becoming strong enough to measure up to you and nobody else, Kieran has blinded himself to the fact that he’s already found a good amount of what he’d always truly wanted in the first place. And it also means that, if he can’t beat you when that day comes, everything he’s done will be for nothing.

Drayton and Carmine

But although nobody is happy with the way things are now (least of all Kieran himself), it seems only a couple of people have been willing to question Kieran’s “authority” enough to try and talk him out of this.

One of them is Drayton, who’s doing this not just out of wanting his club to go back to normal, but also because he’s the almost-only person to have noticed the timid yet battle-loving kid Kieran used to be, and he genuinely wants to help Kieran remember how to have fun like that again. Unfortunately, it seems that any of Drayton’s attempts to tell him this bounced right off Kieran, because fun and excitement were a part of that weak kid he used to be and absolutely cannot be any more.

Plus, with his newfound authority and validation of his toxic worldview, Kieran would easily be able to brush off anything Drayton said to him with the excuse that he doesn’t have to listen to someone who can’t beat him. He actually mentions at one point that Drayton “always loses” to him, implying they’ve battled more than once. Apparently, in an attempt to get Kieran to listen, Drayton actually went and challenged him to a rematch at some point, or maybe even several – a remarkable amount of effort, coming from Drayton – but he still couldn’t win.

(Kieran is bound to be super jealous of the way Drayton appears so effortless in his strength, when Kieran himself had to train and strive so hard to reach this level. But on the flip side, now that Kieran is the stronger one, he can use Drayton’s laziness as another way to paint himself as superior. Obviously the reason Drayton keeps losing to him is because he doesn’t train nearly as hard as Kieran does.)

It also doesn’t help that Drayton’s attitude towards Kieran when he’s not specifically trying to encourage him to have fun again is very sarcastic and condescending, drawing from his deep frustration at Kieran’s attitude. It must be very easy for Kieran to completely overlook the part where Drayton is actually doing this because he cares – he probably feels that Drayton just hates him and wants him gone. (Just like everyone who’d always shun him and treat him like an outcast before, right.)

Then there’s Carmine, who’s been incredibly worried about the change in her brother and is bound to have done her fair share of trying to talk him out of this too, evidently also to no effect. It’s certainly easy for Kieran to remain oblivious to the fact that she’s doing this because she cares about him and isn’t just trying to bring him down, since she has, uh, historically not been very good at showing that.

It seems that Kieran has largely been avoiding Carmine since he overhauled everything about himself. No doubt a lot of that is because, what with her being part of the reason for his inferiority complex in the first place, she’s capable of triggering his insecurities more intensely than anybody else can. But maybe it’s also partly because on some level, he’s aware that she’s got a point now with the things she’s trying to say to him, and that makes him feel bad, and have doubts that he can’t afford to be having. Carmine’s certainly right to be concerned that his behaviour now would be driving any friends of his away – although she is almost definitely wildly wrong to be assuming Kieran even had any friends other than you before all of this.

(For that matter, she’s very wrong to assume that you are still his friend right now in a totally normal way; ha ha ha. But then, based on your options of “yes” and “yes” when Drayton asks you if you're Kieran's friend, it seems that you – the player character – are also somehow completely oblivious to the fact that Kieran just maybe might not consider you a friend any more on his end. Which just makes this whole thing even more excruciating.)

The dynamic between the siblings during the one brief time we see them interact here has notably changed, in that Kieran is finally able to stand up for himself more, telling Carmine to shut up when she tells him off. And yet, he doesn’t do so very forcefully, averting his gaze in a way that suggests he just sort of mumbles it. He probably realises she has a point about what she was saying – that he shouldn’t act so condescending towards you. Which on Carmine’s end, she said because she doesn’t want him to drive away the one friend he still (supposedly) has, but that’s not how it’d read on Kieran’s end, because he doesn’t believe you ever were his friend at all. He must have felt like his sister has a point only because he doesn’t have the right to act that way towards you, not when he still hasn’t proven himself to you yet (and maybe never will).

Unexpected reunion

See, there’s a lot of interesting stuff going on under the surface of Kieran’s reaction to suddenly meeting you here. Literally everything he’s been doing this entire time has been for the sole purpose of defeating you when he sees you again. Which means that you showing up and challenging the BB League should be exactly what he wants and has always been waiting for. And yet.

The first notable thing is that he had nothing to do with inviting you here – the person responsible for that was Carmine. She probably figured that you’d be able to help her brother out, so she recommended you to the director when she heard he was looking for an exchange student to invite from Paldea. As Champion of the school, Kieran should also have had enough influence to make such a recommendation – but he didn’t.

Then, when Kieran comes to the cafeteria, he has plenty of condescending things to say to Drayton (about how taking a lunch break is a waste of time, because who needs to bother with basic physical needs like eating when they could be training instead, right). But the moment he sees you, he’s just shocked at you even being here… and then he’s very quiet for the entire rest of the conversation.

Drayton puts things to a vote among the Elites plus Kieran as to whether you should be allowed to join the BB League, and – despite that this should be exactly what he wants – Kieran is the last to vote. He only does so when he’s forced to break the tie.

(Although, it’s revealing in a different way that the Elite Four all ask each other for their opinions first, with none of them naturally thinking to consult Kieran. Despite his newfound strength and authority, he is still socially excluded – but this time he really has nobody but himself to blame.)

Kieran’s wording of how he casts his vote is so very telling. Just: “It doesn’t matter who I’m facing… I don’t lose.” – and he says nothing else before leaving in a huff. He words this in a generalised way, as if this an overarching principle of his that has nothing to do with you in particular, even though it’s always been about you. Because if he let himself think about how you in particular will be his opponent, then suddenly the statement that he doesn’t lose doesn’t feel so certain. But, put on the spot like this, he cannot show any sign that he’s afraid he might lose to you – that would be like giving up and accepting that all the effort he’s put in for all this time has been for nothing. So he has no choice but to let you join.

(Drayton totally knew he would refuse to lose face like this if put on the spot, of course, and that the Elites would vote 2-2 between them and leave Kieran with the deciding vote, which is precisely why he set things up this way. Kieran’s not unaware of this, either.)

There’s a brief interim here as you head to the front desk to officially sign up for the League. This gives Kieran a moment alone to process the fact that, welp, this really is happening, you’re really here, and, isn’t this supposed to be exactly what he always wanted? Hasn’t everything always been so that he can beat you this time? He manages to twist things around in his head, convince himself that yes, this is it, the chance he’s been waiting for, and he will win when it comes down to it, he will, because that’s what it’s all been for.

As such, when he shows up at the front desk to confirm that he’s allowing you to join, Kieran is able to be a lot more direct about you challenging him than he was in his one whole sentence on the topic in the cafeteria. Even then, he makes a comment to Drayton about how he feels like he was manipulated into this… then immediately insists that he’s fine with it because this is what he wanted anyway. If it was truly 100% what he wanted, he wouldn’t have felt manipulated!

To sum all of this up: it is abundantly, delightfully clear beneath the surface that Kieran does not actually feel ready to face you. He would never have felt ready for this, no matter how long he’d spent training and pushing himself, because your impossible unreachable strength and his own inherent worthlessness are both so deeply ingrained in his mind that he is incapable of truly believing he can match you.

But, well, here you are, and now Drayton’s trapped Kieran in this situation where he has no choice but to keep up the mask of strength and confidence he’s been putting on all this time. So he’s got to act like he’s fine with you challenging him, whether he truly feels ready or not.

Your Elite Four challenge

As you work your way through the Elite Four’s ranks to earn the right to challenge him, Kieran is very insistent that you’d better not dare lose to anybody else before facing him, or to have gotten weaker in any way since he last met you.

You might think that Kieran would be glad if you actually did lose to one of the Elite Four and never manage to make it to him, because, hey, that means he’s already stronger than you! He doesn’t even have to worry about whether he can win his battle against you! But… no, that wouldn’t be how it’s supposed to go. The way Kieran’s been building things up in his head the entire time, his whole life is supposed to magically somehow get better when he beats you. He needs to prove himself and his new strength to you, specifically. It wouldn’t mean anything if someone else beat you first, or if you’re somehow not actually still the impossibly strong person he’s idolised and fixated so hard on becoming equal to. That’d just be the most crushing anticlimax for him, in which he never gets to achieve what he’s been striving so hard for, and in which he’d have to somehow come to terms with the fact that… he’s already stronger than you, and yet he still doesn’t feel better or any less agonisingly inferior than he always did? If that happened, he’d be at a complete loss as to any other way to escape how he feels about himself.

But, fortunately for him (for some value of “fortunate”), you of course still are just as strong as you always were. On hearing you assure him of this, and also on seeing it for himself as he watches one of your Elite Four battles, Kieran gives this awful twisted grin that does not even slightly reach his eyes (because he has completely forgotten how to genuinely smile and no doubt hasn’t ever done so this entire time). Yes, he will still get to have his long-anticipated showdown with you, and winning that will still somehow magically definitely fix everything that was ever wrong in his life. Definitely.

There’s also the part where, because you come with such glowing recommendations, you get to skip working your way up the BB League from the very bottom and can start right at challenging the Elite Four. Kieran has to feel all kinds of ways about this – on the one hand, he’d tell himself he’s glad because this means he has less time to wait until the battle that he’s definitely totally ready for, and he knows full well that you wouldn’t need to waste your time on small fry at the bottom. But on the other hand… he had to painstakingly work his way all the way up from zero in order to get where he is, so it sure is something that you’re so special that you just get to skip doing that. (And if you did have to start at the bottom, then it’d give him more time to train himself, just to make absolutely sure that he really is ready to face you…)

When you’ve beaten the final Elite, Kieran shows up again and scoffs that this was kind of slow for you, wasn’t it? I believe this isn’t just posturing and was his genuine reaction – you’re so impossibly perfect in his mind that he can’t even comprehend the idea that you wouldn’t breeze through this effortlessly without a single hitch. But still, at least he can turn the fact that you fell short of his impossible expectations into condescension that helps him feel above you and definitely capable of beating you. (How long did it take him to beat the Elite Four, I wonder? Probably longer than you – but of course he’s not gonna bring that up.)

Drayton, meanwhile, has now picked up on the fact that Kieran isn’t just obsessed with winning like he’d initially thought – he’s obsessed with you. Maybe he’d have approached things a little differently if he’d been aware in the beginning that you were a lot more to Kieran than just an old friend. But, welp, bit too late to back out of what he’s set up now, whoops.

And on Kieran’s end, he hasn’t let go of the feeling of being manipulated into this, and now feels like you and Drayton are plotting against him. This poor kid’s paranoia and tendency to assume people are laughing at him behind his back has still not gone away, even if it’s taken on a slightly different form now. It’s probably a good thing he doesn’t ever learn that Carmine was the one who called you here, or he’d think she was in on this supposed conspiracy too.

(But, hey, while Kieran could never do anything about it before whenever he was ganged up on and shunned by others, at least now he’s finally strong enough to fight back and hold his own, despite being outnumbered, right? Just like the ogre did.)

THE BATTLE

So now, it’s finally time: the battle that Kieran has absolutely everything riding on. Of course I’ve already made it abundantly clear here that every single thing he’s done has been for the sole goal of beating you right here and now – but it says a lot that he spends his pre-battle speech making sure you know this. He probably feels like you’re such an amazing superstar trainer that challenging someone for their Champion title is basically just another Tuesday for you, like this is nothing on your end – but this battle is everything for him, everything that he’s been spending every single moment of every single day building up towards for all this time, and he needs you to acknowledge this.

And as if that wasn’t enough, as the battle opens, Kieran screams into the sky with the sheer uncontainable emotion of how much this means to him. Everything he’s been feeling, bottling up, clinging to for so long is spilling out of him now that he’s finally here in this one pivotal moment he’s always been waiting for.

It comes spilling out in a lot more than just that scream, too; he has so many things to say throughout the battle as it all reaches fever pitch inside him. While some of his in-battle dialogue during his Teal Mask fights had fun hints at his issues in there, this one battle here absolutely takes the cake. This is quite possibly the most dialogue in any battle in any Pokémon game, and all of it has something interesting and nuanced going on that’s rooted in Kieran’s massive issues. I cannot resist taking this opportunity to talk about every single bit of it.

His first line as the battle begins is, “I know I’m making the right choice… You’ll understand that soon enough!”, which seems kind of odd on the surface. What “choice” is he even talking about that he feels the need to justify? Accepting a challenge to his Champion position is just what Champions are meant to do. But that’s not what Kieran’s thinking about here – he’s thinking about all of those times that Drayton and Carmine tried to talk him down from the entire way he was acting and pushing himself too hard. Every time they did, he insisted to himself that no, training this insanely hard is the right choice, he needs to do this, and it’ll all be worth it when he beats you. …Somehow. Definitely. You’ll see, you will, you have to…!

On the very first hit he lands on you – it doesn’t even need to be super-effective, any damaging hit will trigger it – he says, “How do you like that? See how hard I’ve trained? Not like that kid you battled in Kitakami, huh?!” In reality, the hit he lands here isn’t necessarily any bigger than the kinds of hits he dealt to you back in Kitakami – but it feels bigger to Kieran. He’s trained so hard that he feels so much stronger and so different from the kid he was back then, and he needs you to see and acknowledge this too.

Meanwhile, your first super-effective attack you land on him manages to pierce through his mask for a moment and get a “wowzers” out of him. It’s not actually any more impressive than any other super-effective hit he might receive from any other trainer – but because it’s coming from you, it feels so much more incredible, triggering his instinctive irrational idolisation of you just for a moment before he collects himself and puts his mask back up.

Then he insists that he’ll still win anyway, even if “the type matchups work out for you”. Which… isn’t how type matchups in battles work? Sure, you landed one super-effective hit, either because one of your Pokémon happened to have a good matchup, or you just had a good coverage move. That doesn’t mean that all of the type matchups in the battle are inherently in your favour. But Kieran apparently feels like they are – because, when it comes to him versus you, he always feels like everything in the world is on your side and he has to claw and grasp to regain the tiniest bit of ground against his inherent overwhelming disadvantage.

Speaking of everything being on your side, when you land your first critical hit on him (and I say “when” here because this battle is long enough that statistically you’re extremely unlikely not to at some point!), his response is delightful, raging that “even luck’s chosen you over me!” and that it’s “not fair!!!” All of his bitterness and jealousy about Ogerpon choosing you over him is still raw, evidently, so even something like you getting a statistically near-inevitable critical hit feels to him like luck itself taking your side against him, because everything always does. And on some level, he may have realised that you befriending Ogerpon was partly due to the sheer luck of you happening to meet her while he wasn’t around, so of course he’s bitter about luck because of that, too. It’s not fair, how you always get everything, so effortlessly, while he has nothing.

(He doesn’t comment at all if and when he lands a critical hit, because of course not. Confirmation bias is one hell of a drug.)

And of course, you bringing out Ogerpon herself gets an extremely strong reaction from Kieran. “You’ve got some nerve,” he snarls among broken mirthless laughter, to bring her out “NOW of all times?!” This, right here and now, was supposed to be his moment, his time to finally shine and show you how strong he is and take the victory. And yet you’re choosing this moment to parade Ogerpon in front of him, a reminder of the painful losses and inferiority he suffered back in Kitakami that he’s tried so hard to forget and overcome by making himself stronger, just rubbing it in his face that you got to have her because you’re so strong and lucky and perfect.

His expression during this line is one hell of a thing as well: shocked and wide-eyed and practically terrified, in stark contrast to all of his other expressions in this fight. He’s not only reeling from the pain of having his inferiority from back then shoved in his face, but also, he’s always believed that Ogerpon is so incredibly strong. If you’re using her against him in this battle, you and her working together… how is he ever going to be able to defeat that combination of impossible strength…?

(Apparently, Kieran’s trainer AI actually has a modification in this fight that makes him prioritise attacking Ogerpon more than an AI trainer otherwise would, which is delightful, I love that that’s a thing devs programmed in there. Of course he’d desperately want to get Ogerpon off the field as fast as he could before she utterly destroys him.)

As his back’s against the wall and he’s sending out his final Pokémon, Kieran’s still raging, with increasing desperation: “Just go down already! How are you still standing after I’ve thrown everything I have at you?!” This battle is not at all going how he’d insistently imagined it would in his head, in which he’d prove himself and win, not even though he’s giving it absolutely everything he has. (And the thought that you still won’t go down even then is terrifying to him. He really has given everything to this, he couldn’t possibly have done more – and yet, what if that still isn’t enough to beat you? That’d mean it’s just impossible for him, no matter what he does, and he’d have absolutely no idea how to cope with that.)

Just before he Terastallises his Hydrapple, he insists that he “doesn’t need the old me”, that he’s changed – here’s the way he felt he had no choice but to throw away everything about his former weaker self in order to get stronger, even the positive parts. But then he adds, “and I’ll show you I can change again!” He’s not just literally referring to the Terastallisation he’s about to do (although it’s thematically fitting that he brings up this topic as he’s doing this – and his Hydrapple’s Fighting Tera-type is a neat link to him having changed himself into being obsessed with strength) – rather, he’s referring to what he’s convinced himself will happen when (if) he wins this fight. That’ll change everything for him, right? That’ll make everything good, finally; he’s going to change for the better once he wins this, he has to…!

And then… Kieran’s animation while he’s Terastallising is an odd one. He’s remarkably expressionless about it, compared to the intensity of his expressions in the entire rest of the fight. But I think the reason for this must be: most trainers wince with the force of it as they begin charging their Tera Orb – and apparently, Kieran doesn’t want to be seen doing that, because that’d make him seem weak. So he’s trained himself to put on an expressionless mask, not even looking at the orb directly, to avoid that. (And one of the few trainers who doesn’t wince, who’s able to stare directly at the dazzling power coming from their Tera Orb without flinching, holding it up for all to see… it’s you, of course. Kieran almost certainly saw this from you a few times back in Kitakami.)

His last possible line in the fight, as he orders an attack from his Hydrapple, at which point he is guaranteed to have only one or two Pokémon left and be desperately fighting to hold on with his back against the wall, includes him saying, “I’m capable of winning too, you know!” Because that is definitely a very normal thing for a reigning Champion to need to say to their challenger. Even with all the victories he’s had on his way here, Kieran still has to fight to convince himself that he is capable of winning, because being up against you and teetering on the brink of defeat like this just reminds him of all his previous agonising losses at your hands, his inferiority complex rising up to overwhelm him with the feeling that he’ll never be able to be strong or win anything at all.

(And, hey… what if he had actually managed to win? Tragically, the game does not let you see any of his reaction if you do happen to lose to him; it just rewinds time like it never happened. But there’s no way that Kieran beating you here would truly have helped or fixed anything about that massive inferiority complex of his. He’d ride the high for a bit, but then he’d go back to the same condescending façade he’d had before and gradually realise that… he doesn’t actually feel any better about himself beneath it like he was supposed to once this happened. Funnily enough, beating you in a Pokémon battle would not have magically turned him into you.)

Everything falls apart

But, of course, because the game refuses to let you not be the Perfect Protagonist (or, perhaps, because the narrative needs to go this way in order for him to actually get better in the long run), Kieran loses. The last time he lost a pivotal battle against you that he’d told himself everything depended on, back in Kitakami, he crumpled immediately in defeat – but this time, his reaction’s a lot more drawn out. Back then, the conviction that he could never ever beat you was right there at the surface to the point that he was basically expecting to lose despite his determination. But here, he’s spent so long insisting to himself over and over that he will win this time, he will, convincing himself that things just have to go that way… that it takes him a moment to even process the fact that they haven’t. He’s just shocked, lost, dumbfounded, not knowing how to react, because this wasn’t supposed to happen…!

But then the spectators around him mutter and begin to leave, apparently because he lost, because he’s no good after all and so there’s no point staying to watch him, and this seems to be what agonisingly drives home the reality to Kieran. All the respect and esteem he’d managed to grasp for himself – in this one awful moment it feels like all of it is crumbling away before his eyes. All of his effort to get here (so much effort) was worthless, all because he couldn’t beat you. He’s gone right back down to being nothing. I adore the blurry effects in the cutscene as Kieran sways and staggers and collapses, giving a visceral sense that the shock of this is hitting him so deep that it's rendered him physically light-headed and dizzy. Guh, this poor kid.

And then Drayton has to come along and rub it in. Kieran winces in agony as he gets smugly called “ex-Champion” – though he was never doing any of this for the Champion title itself, having it meant something and made him matter, and now that’s gone like it was never there at all. It’s bound to sting especially hard coming from Drayton, whom Kieran believed was plotting with you to take him down, take away everything he had, and now that’s exactly what’s happened, because he wasn’t strong enough to stand up for himself after all.

…The fact that Drayton felt the need to be a smug bitch about this first and foremost does not remotely help Kieran actually listen to and internalise the genuinely good advice Drayton gives just a few moments later. He really was doing this because he cares, and because Kieran ought to go back to having fun with things! But of course Kieran isn’t in any state to listen to that, not after all his paranoia about Drayton manipulating him, and then Drayton rubbing his loss in on top of that; he still has no idea that the guy genuinely wants to help him. (Unfortunately, while Drayton cares about the person Kieran should be, he has been deeply frustrated by the person Kieran is being, and that comes out in sarcasm and smuggery first, hence why this completely bombs.)

So instead of taking on board Drayton’s advice, which he probably wasn’t even listening to, Kieran just starts desperately, incoherently mumbling about how he’ll win next time. It’s the only thing he can cling to – the same thing he always has, to escape the all-consuming, unbearable thought of just being achingly inferior forever and ever with no way out. He still can’t see any other way out that isn’t beating you. (But… how is he ever going to win next time, when he’s already given it absolutely everything he had and still couldn’t manage it…?)

Seeing him being so clearly Not Okay, you approach him and (probably) attempt to say something to him, but it seems like even if you try, you barely get any words out before Kieran just shuts down even more. He reacts with slumping, and with an “Aw, man…” – the same words and body language he’d often have back in Teal Mask whenever something (usually his sister) would push back at him and make him feel small. Now that he can no longer cling to his façade that he totally is stronger than you and just hasn’t proven it yet, he’s reverted right back to the state of mind he was always in back then. And it’s you in particular that triggers his inferiority complex harder than anything else right now, even if you just silently approach him, or say a few words that certainly wouldn’t have been anything cruel.

It's a bit of a shame that the game doesn’t actually let us see what you try to say to him, assuming you do. But it most certainly couldn’t have been anything along the lines of “You put up a really tough fight!”, because that kind of thing – acknowledging Kieran’s strength, even though he lost – is exactly what he’d need to hear right now, and he’s clearly not hearing it. Whatever it was you did say, he probably barely even heard it beneath his crushing sense of inferiority at being near you, and you probably trailed off pretty quickly upon seeing his reaction.

(In fact, it might say a lot that your dialogue options here are so non-specific that they’re literally just “Say something/nothing”. This suggests that the player character has no idea what to say to Kieran at seeing him in this absolute state, and they can only choose to either accept that and remain silent, or to fumble for something to try and say anyway. I believe it’s pretty important to “your” role in Kieran’s arc that the player character is extremely socially awkward and just finds themselves utterly lost as to how to deal with him breaking down like this because of them. Someone with better social intelligence would be able to say the right thing here to help him at least begin to feel better! But that someone is emphatically not you, it seems. This apparent social obliviousness also tracks with the fact that you – the player character – agreed with Carmine’s very short-sighted decision to lie to Kieran back in Kitakami, thus unwittingly setting off this whole domino effect of his issues in the first place.)

Sudden legendary hunt

If Kieran had had longer to process his defeat, maybe he’d have realised that there really is no way he can “win next time” when he already gave it his absolute all this time, and he might have begun to approach the fact that there’s nothing he can do but let things go. However, while he’s still reeling, he almost immediately gets dragged into the meeting with Briar about her expedition to Area Zero.

Kieran looks like he’s barely even listening to the conversation at first, just staring miserably into space in front of him, no doubt stuck endlessly thinking how can I ever be stronger than you when everything I had still wasn’t enough??? But then Briar mentions that they’ll get the opportunity to find a legendary Pokémon on this quest – and whoops, now Kieran’s paying attention. Because here’s the answer to his impossible conundrum of how he can beat you next time.

Make no mistake: this is nothing like Ogerpon was to him. He’d been fixated on her and cared about her ever since he was little for deeply personal reasons based on him relating to her situation and projecting onto her. Her strength was part of it, but it wasn’t that he wanted to obtain that strength by catching her; he just admired her strength and wanted to be like her, and if he could, then maybe one day she’d acknowledge that by being his friend (and therefore also incidentally his Pokémon partner). But Terapagos is nothing to Kieran here other than a source of potential strength for him to acquire for himself by capturing it, a tool that will finally let him beat you.

Nonetheless, because this is another legendary Pokémon, Kieran can’t help but draw the surface comparison to Ogerpon anyway and remember the way she chose you over him. He’s probably already imagining that Terapagos might just do the same thing, because you’re so strong and special while he’s nothing – so he tells himself, fervently, that no, he won’t let that happen again, he won’t let this chance go.

He doesn’t ever say as much, but he’s bound to be already having doubts as to if he really could ever capture such an amazing Pokémon. Legendary Pokémon – or really, any Pokémon in general – are supposed to join trainers once they acknowledge their strength; that’s what battles to weaken and capture a wild Pokémon are all about. How is Kieran ever going to get Terapagos to do that for him when he’s so weak? But even so, even if it seems too good to be true, he has to cling to this possibility. It’s the only chance he has left to still just maybe be able to beat you, to continue running away from that gaping pit of inferiority inside him that he doesn’t know how to face.

(A minor nitpick I have with the game’s writing: it’d have been fun here if things had been subtler and Kieran hadn’t outright said that he wants to catch Terapagos at all. His intent would have been very clear regardless for anyone who could read between the lines – I realised what was up the moment he reacted to hearing about a legendary, because Oh No. But nonetheless, it seems like you the player character and also Carmine are both socially oblivious enough to fail to follow Kieran’s stated intent to catch Terapagos through to its obvious conclusion of “he’s still fixated on beating you”. I guess the two of you just assume, oh, hey, he’s found another legendary Pokémon to get excited about, that’s good, that means he must be getting over Ogerpon, right…? Ha. Ha ha ha. If only.)

Journey through Area Zero

As you make your way into and through the depths of Area Zero, Kieran seems to have largely lost hold of the condescendingly superior façade he’d been putting up all this time (after all, he doesn’t have the right to act that way towards you when he’s still weaker than you). This allows a few little hints of his true self to begin to rise to the surface and shine through again, at least a little bit.

He lets slip a “wowzers” on seeing the sheer alien beauty of the place for the first time, and later at the lab he’s so excited at the technology reminding him of a spy movie that he even forgets to mask his accent for a whole sentence. But both times, he’s quick to catch himself and brush it off and act aloof. That excitableness was part of who he used to be, that kid who was weak, and he's still convinced that he can’t afford to be that person any more. But, hey, getting these little reminders that he actually enjoys being his true self and has missed it, at least certain parts of it, has to help! Plus, Carmine seems happy at these moments of him being the little brother she knows and loves again; they have a bit of regular healthy sibling banter; she notices him being considerate about Briar reading someone’s private diary…

These are all good signs that Kieran’s starting to get back to normal, maybe just a little… but, not completely. The spark still isn’t there in his eyes, even when he’s smiling about the cool spy vibe of the lab. Despite the distractions, he’s largely very intent on just getting to the legendary Pokémon and nothing else. And perhaps most relevant of all, he barely says anything of substance to you, even if you try and talk to him.

He does have a notable reaction near the beginning when you mention that you came here last time with some friends of yours. Kieran had probably never quite considered the idea of you having other friends before – Ogerpon did not exactly prime him to imagine that about his idols, after all – but, now that he’s hearing it… of course you’ve got friends. Why wouldn’t you? You have everything, everything he’s always wanted so badly for himself but could never, ever have.

Then, of course, you’re the one who does all the hard work in the Underdepths to deal with the sparkling Pokémon that are blocking the way forwards. For the first one, Carmine almost asks Kieran to take care of it before changing her mind and asking you, which, ouch, that’s got to have stung. (I don’t think she did that to deliberately be unkind, though; it’s probably that she still feels a little weird and uncomfortable about her brother battling, because of the way he’s been, so she’d rather just watch you battle it instead.)

Because of all this, later on Kieran bitterly comments that he feels like everyone’s relying on you too much. Really, the only reason this is the case is because you just happen to be the one who has the lizardbike buddy that can navigate you to the Pokémon you need to defeat… but then, that in itself is another sign of how special and favoured by legendaries you are, isn’t it.

And actually, you’re not necessarily the only one who can reach the sparkling Pokémon! Kieran has a Dragonite, which must have been what he rode on for the flying Elite Four trial, so, in theory, he could go and deal with those sparkling Pokémon himself. But he doesn’t, because you’re already doing it anyway, and he doesn’t feel worthy of taking the spotlight from you. (Or, he could ask to join you on your lizard buddy as you head over there, but ha, even less chance he’s about to do that.)

One bit of optional dialogue Kieran has during this part is insisting that he could totally make quick work of those sparkling Pokémon if only they weren’t so far away. This is very true… but the fact that he never tries to do so despite actually having the ability to reach them himself tells us that his words are just desperate posturing that he doesn’t truly believe. He can’t even register the part where he genuinely has a really strong team of Pokémon that he worked hard to train, because he did all of that for the sole purpose of beating you, and since he couldn’t manage that, that means that none of it matters and he’s just useless.

Then there’s the moment near the end where Carmine tells Kieran it’s his turn to call out to you to let you know the path opened up, but Kieran miserably assumes you’d prefer to hear it from her instead. (As if who tells you that even makes any difference!) Carmine did this to try and begin bridging the gap between you, and she forces him to do it anyway despite his protest, but then when she asks if he’s got anything more to say to you, he just says no. He still doesn’t feel like he’s worthy of even interacting with you in any way at all, still convinced he must be nothing to you.

There’s a heartbreaking hypocrisy to this, too, since he knows you’re perfectly okay interacting with Carmine, and it’s not like she’s ever been able to beat you in battle either. But… but that’s different, right, because she’s already someone who’s strong and cool and worthy of your friendship. In Kieran’s head, he is the single person in the world who is so automatically, inherently worthless that he needs to prove his strength before he is allowed to Matter to you or to anybody.

Outburst at the crystal

As the group reaches the final chamber, Kieran rushes ahead into it and begins pulling at the crystal the moment he figures it even might be Terapagos, because he is so desperate not to lose this chance to anybody else (meaning you). In his urgency, completely oblivious to how messed-up this sentiment is, he blurts out that this’ll mean he can finally beat you, at which Carmine, who failed to realise this was still the reason he was doing all this until now, tries to call him out on it—

—And Kieran can’t stand that; he can’t let her try and take this away from him too on top of everything else, because this feels like the one remaining chance he’ll ever get to still have something and matter next to you. So in a kneejerk attempt to defend why he needs this, everything comes tumbling out. All of those feelings about how you have everything he’s ever wanted, and he has nothing, how he trained so so hard but even that ended up worthless because he still lost to you in the end, so this is all he has left.

(Well, it’s not quite everything that comes spilling out of Kieran here. He doesn’t say anything about why he feels he needs to beat you, and how that’ll totally magically solve everything for him – because there is no actual logic behind that part. There’s nothing he can say to make that make sense, and on some level he must be aware of that, must know it doesn’t, really. But if he admits that, admits that there really isn’t any way at all to escape from his crushing inferiority, then he’ll have nothing left whatsoever, which he cannot bear.)

Hearing Kieran’s outburst about how worthless he feels, Carmine tries to put in a good word for him about how he’s tried his best too – which is good! That’s exactly the kind of thing he needs to hear; she’s finally getting it! But unfortunately, because she herself is one of Kieran’s sore points, in regards to how you magically went and befriended her, he doesn’t properly register what she’s saying. Hearing her speak at all just triggers that thought and spurs him into venting about that, too.

His hang-ups with you befriending Carmine are interestingly reversed from how they appeared to be in Teal Mask. Back then, he seemed more low-key jealous that she might have been trying to take you, his first ever friend, away from him. But now (now that he’s convinced that you were never really his friend in the first place), it’s all twisted around into yet another sign of how perfect you are, because you managed to win over even someone as prickly and abrasive as his sister so remarkably fast. (Which, of course, has less to do with you than it has to do with the fact that Carmine’s actually a lot softer at heart than Kieran realises.)

He’s also maybe thinking about Drayton here, about the one time Drayton claimed in the cafeteria that you and he were “already tight”. That was a massive exaggeration, but no doubt Kieran filed that away as another person – someone else he finds infuriating and impossible to get along with – that you instantly won over with your magical friendship powers because of course you did. And on top of that, he’s bound to be thinking about his recent realisation that you came to Area Zero last time with your friends, plural, because of course you’d already got a bunch of friends, you’re perfect, you can do anything you want, you can be friends with anyone!

And yet – even as Kieran says this, it is objectively not true. Because you’re not friends with him right now! No amount of your amazing protagonist powers has been able to cut through his pile of issues and properly befriend him, even though you want to, because you are in fact not perfect in the slightest and have no idea what to say to get through to him and help him! But of course Kieran doesn’t realise this contradiction in what he’s saying – he's worthless, so the fact that you’re not friends with him is obviously just because you never wanted to be.

Speaking of you not being perfect, this moment here in which Kieran outright voices his jealousy and sense of inferiority compared to you is bound to be the first moment in which you, the player character, actually begin to realise that this has been his problem this whole time. (And, to be fair to your poor socially-oblivious avatar, it really wasn’t very apparent from their perspective until now! The only time Kieran ever gave any real explicit indication of his issues around you before was in Teal Mask, after the third battle when he lamented that “it’s because I’m weak” – but at the time, the player character wasn’t aware (like we the players were) that he knew they’d lied to him, so they couldn’t have known he was thinking about that. They probably just chalked his reaction down to him taking the lost battle particularly hard. The lie reveal was messy but seemed to work itself out; he was obviously upset when you caught Ogerpon but appeared to accept it well enough in the moment – then all of a sudden he showed up later being really determined to beat you for some reason??? Why.)

Another thing I love about this moment is the animation of Kieran desperately pulling at Terapagos’s crystal, the way he has to pause to catch his breath in between each huge tug, which really gets across that he is giving this every ounce of his strength. And that still isn’t enough, because it never is – he’s always too weak to be able to grasp even one thing for himself, but he is never ever going to stop trying no matter how impossible it seems.

(And I wonder if it’s going through his mind as he does this that surely this wouldn’t be nearly so hard for you. Like this is a sword-in-the-stone kind of thing, in which Terapagos would slide out smoothly like butter for someone who’s truly worthy of it, while a weakling like him is stuck hopelessly yanking on it with everything he has and just making himself look pathetic, because of course he doesn’t deserve this.)

Catching Terapagos

Except it turns out Kieran can manage to pull out the crystal after all, doing so with such force that he accidentally flings it halfway across the cavern to land between you and him. He rushes to pick it up before anyone else can, because this is his and he can’t let anyone take it from him, he can’t—

But then Terapagos wakes up, pops out of the crystal that serves as its shell… and it’s facing you. It doesn’t even see or acknowledge Kieran at all. It looks up at you adorably, like a baby imprinting on the first thing it sees, taking a few steps towards its new friend…?

(this has to be such an aching reminder of the way Ogerpon so quickly came to adore you and didn’t care about him, all compressed into one single agonising moment, ouch)

…This was not Terapagos choosing you over Kieran in any meaningful way. Kieran was behind it, such that it literally couldn’t see him and didn’t even know he existed. All it was doing was latching onto the first person it saw, which was you, because – completely by chance – it happened to wake up facing you and not him. If it’d woken up facing Kieran, it’d have seen and approached him in exactly the same way. Terapagos’s dormant crystal form is symmetrical; Kieran had no way to know which end was the head and which was the tail until it popped out.

This was, almost literally, a fucking coin flip. Only the coin was a magical crystal turtle and the winner was whoever “heads” landed facing towards.

(But then, luck has always chosen you over Kieran, too, hasn’t it?)

And so, seeing this happen to him yet again, seeing his one last chance of maybe finally having something and mattering about to be casually snatched away by you, like always, because the universe always gives you everything he wants… Kieran makes an awful, desperate split-second decision and throws the Master Ball. Because of course he does. It’s not right; it’s not fair on Terapagos – but it is so achingly understandable why Kieran would be driven to do this in this moment. The whole thing was so cruelly, rudely unfortunate. This poor kid just wants so badly to have something, to have anything at all where he’s not immediately overshadowed and upstaged by you.

(Also, shout-outs to the narrative cleverness of quietly establishing that BB Champions get given Master Balls, by the game giving you one when you beat Kieran, such that you think nothing of it at the time but can realise right away in this moment where Kieran got his from.)

Still, it’s notable how quickly Kieran was able to pull out the Master Ball, which suggests he’d had it ready near the top of his bag. It must have crossed his mind on the way here that surely, you’re going to somehow magically sway Terapagos to join you – or that it’ll just shun him, because earning a legendary’s respect involves proving one’s strength, and he’s still so weak – such that he felt he might need a way to guarantee it would become his, no matter what.

But even then, I do want to believe that Kieran wouldn’t necessarily have used the Master Ball if he hadn’t felt like he had no other option, and that he wanted to at least try to get Terapagos to join him willingly, like trainers are supposed to do. If he’d won the turtle-coin flip and it had woken up facing him, maybe he’d have been able to do so! But of course he didn’t get to have that.

(It’s kind of a shame that the characters never discuss the dodginess of catching a Pokémon from behind in a Master Ball, how that gave poor Terapagos no choice in the matter like Pokémon are supposed to have when they join a trainer. But then, pointing out that Master Balls are inherently ethically dubious gets awkward considering that the player can freely use them on anything they like, so the game was probably never going to go there. You are too silent-protagonist and Briar is too irresponsible-adult to comment on it, but maybe Carmine could at least have had a brief line questioning this? But, well, at least she does express apprehension about going in to battle with a legendary Pokémon they know almost nothing about, which is also a very valid concern, considering what ends up happening.)

Trying to beat you with Terapagos

So of course, the very next thing Kieran does is challenge you to battle him with Terapagos, so that he can finally beat you. Only… he doesn’t show anywhere near as much of that furious, fervent determination that he had for the Champion match. All that fire of his got snuffed out the moment he lost back then, and it never really came back. This isn’t the battle he’s been psyching himself up for and dedicating everything towards for months; it’s nothing but a desperate grasp at not falling apart completely. He’s kind of just… going through the motions, trying to beat you simply because it’s what he’s been clinging to all this time, and he still doesn’t know what else to do with himself if not this.

And more than anything, Kieran has to know deep down that he doesn’t truly deserve this, not after the way in which he caught Terapagos. After all, trainers are supposed to earn having strong Pokémon in their team, either by training them up from a low level themselves, or by proving their strength to a high-level Pokémon by weakening and catching it in battle. (This is why high-levelled traded Pokémon will disobey you if you don’t have enough badges – you haven’t given them a reason to respect you!) Catching a legendary from behind with a Master Ball is none of those things. Kieran has to be perfectly aware that he has not earned Terapagos’s strength in any way (just like he knew all along he’d never really be able to).

A very revealing line on this matter is that if you say you’re not ready to battle him yet, Kieran tells you, “You’d better not run away from this”. He never once implied you might run away from the Champion battle – that’d be like admitting you couldn’t win, and you’d never do that. But here, it's different, because Terapagos isn’t his strength, so even if he could beat you with it, it wouldn’t really prove anything about him. You’d be well within your rights to just refuse to indulge Kieran in this at all, and on some level, he knows that.

(…With all that said, Terapagos does obey his commands in the battle anyway. It’s sadly difficult to attribute any definitive emotions to it because it’s pretty unexpressive, but perhaps we can imagine that Terapagos is kind of just lost and confused, going along with the orders of the one who threw its ball because it’s not really sure what’s happening and battling is kind of instinctual for all Pokémon. Maybe it’s even more instinctual for Terapagos, thanks to its ability that automatically shifts it into a battle form when there’s an opponent in front of it. It doesn’t really help matters that you just sent something out to battle it without questioning things, either.)

If you manage to hit Terapagos super-effectively during the battle, Kieran scoffs that “it has a weakness? I thought this was the hidden treasure of Area Zero?!” What do you mean his super-special legendary that would let him finally definitely win this time isn’t invincible, that it’s still functionally just a regular Pokémon and it’s still possible – and not even that hard, really – for you to beat him even now.

And if you land a critical hit, oh boy: “How can you get critical hits, even at a time like this… What are you, the hero of this story?” Kieran is clearly raw with bitterness about the turtle-coin flip, about luck choosing you because you’re just so heroic, even when this was finally supposed to be his moment really seriously for real this time. It’s reminiscent of another time he compared you to a hero when you critted him, in his fourth Teal Mask battle – but back then, he said you were like the hero in “a story”, whereas here, you’re the hero of “this story”. Kieran’s realising on some level that if this were a story, you would be the hero of it, you’d deserve to win, and… wouldn’t he be the villain? Because heroes certainly do not go around throwing Master Balls at legendaries from behind.

(For the record, though? Kieran is not a villain. Stop calling him a villain, people. Not a single thing he does is outright villainous; catching Terapagos in this way is wrong, yes, but it’s an act of desperation for which his entire end goal is literally just to win a dang Pokémon battle against you. He’s barely even that much of an antagonist, if we get into that – this isn’t really a you-versus-him conflict so much as a him-versus-himself conflict that you happen to be inextricably wrapped up in.)

Kieran isn’t even that crushed when he loses this battle, just… lost and confused. He insists that “I thought if I had Terapagos, it would make me stronger,” as if catching it in a Master Ball would change anything about his strength – but really, he has to have known that wouldn’t truly be the case. And when Briar remarks that Terapagos isn’t as strong as it should be, Kieran just miserably assumes, “so it isn’t the hidden treasure?” Like, of course this was too good to be true, of course whatever Pokémon he actually managed to get his hands on was just some dud and not the real deal, because he’s never deserved to have anything worthwhile. His expression’s upset, and pleading, as says this was meant to let him beat you, still like that’d somehow fix everything, but his desperation’s become something pitiful compared to how furious it was before. He just doesn’t know what else to do, doesn’t know how else to cope with his crushing sense of inferiority if he can’t hold onto this.

Terapagos goes berserk

The only reason Kieran even Terastallises Terapagos is pretty much because Briar tells him to, and he’s at a loss for what else to do. It’s very possible that if an actual responsible adult had been here to talk him down – or, heck, even just let Carmine talk to him, since she was trying to do so again – then he’d have finally been in a state to listen and none of the ensuing disaster would have needed to happen. But Briar’s gotta see her giant sparkle turtle, because it turns out that basically her entire character exists to facilitate Kieran’s character arc having the most dramatic climax possible, and I for one am 1000% okay with that.

Kieran looks apprehensive and afraid even as he’s just beginning to Terastallise it (no emotionless mask to cover the wince this time), perhaps because he can feel that the power from his Tera Orb is way more than it usually is and isn’t sure this is a good idea. But what else can he do? He has nothing else left – so he throws the orb anyway.

Again, Terapagos is frustratingly unexpressive, such that it’s difficult to get a sense of whether it attacking Kieran once it Terastallises is an instinctive, unconscious defence mechanism, or something more deliberate. But it’s certainly more fun to imagine it’s deliberate – that this is Terapagos lashing out from anger and fear now that it’s been given a terrifying amount of power it can’t fully handle and begins to realise, wait, no, it didn’t want this. That makes this problem distinctly more Kieran’s fault, which is a good thing for his arc. (If Terapagos’s rampage wasn’t based in its emotions in any way, then this kind of wouldn’t be Kieran’s fault at all, not really! It was significantly more on Briar that he Terastallised it, after all. Kieran’s real mistake was catching it without its consent – so it’s more narratively satisfying for this to be, in part, him facing the consequences for that.)

Either way, the important part is that Kieran is bound to feel like this is Terapagos lashing out at him because he shouldn’t have caught it. He always knew deep down that that was wrong, and now here’s the proof, because of course a strong and special legendary like that would never truly acknowledge him. And now it’s so mad at him for trying to act otherwise that it tries to kill him. (This poor kid is already clearly very sensitive to rejection in general, but, ouch, that has to have been like a stab in the gut.) This is all his fault for daring to think he deserved to have any kind of strength at all.

But then you save his life, by sending out your lizardbike friend to shield him! Which on the one hand just makes you even more of a perfect hero – but this time, your heroism is a good thing for Kieran. And, more than that… you wanted to save him. You saw him as someone worth protecting? You, actually, care about him??? (Kieran has been convinced that he’s nothing to you pretty much ever since you lied to him back in Teal Mask, but, oh, hey, maybe not…?)

Not that he has much time to process that in the heat of the moment; he’s too busy freaking out over everything such that Carmine has to be the one to tell him he should recall Terapagos. Maybe on some level he just feels like Terapagos would never listen to him if he tried, because it literally just attempted to kill him – and indeed, it fights back and breaks the Master Ball rather than go back to being his Pokémon (there’s another painful sting of rejection). Of course Kieran should never have caught it or called himself its trainer. He reflexively asks “why?” it wouldn’t come back, but he knows why. It’s because he’s worthless and deserves nothing, and he should never have tried to pretend otherwise.

Facing the gaping pit

At the start of the final battle, Kieran’s just frozen in terror at what he’s accidentally unleashed, not to mention the recent shock of nearly being killed and the knowledge that this is all his fault. (Even though, it isn’t all his fault! Briar deserves at least half the blame for this! But that doesn’t remotely occur to Kieran in the moment, because he is intrinsically the most worthless person ever, so of course all the blame should be on him.) But after a little while, the immediate terror fades, and Kieran’s left with nothing but the overwhelming feeling that he’s useless, that he can’t help anyone. It’s that vast aching pit of inferiority that’s always been there inside him, finally right at the surface.

There’s nothing he can do to run away from it any more. Ogerpon didn’t want him and chose you instead. All of his efforts to make himself stronger meant nothing in the end because he still lost to you. He never should have tried to catch Terapagos, because it never wanted him either and all he’s done is put himself and everyone else in danger. There’s just no way out.

Which means that, for the first time ever, Kieran has no choice but to finally, actually face up to and confront his terrifyingly huge inferiority complex, and begin to fight against it in a genuinely healthy way.

Maybe he wouldn’t have even tried at all if it hadn’t been for the fact that he needed to help with this battle! Shout-outs to the narrative for creating a situation in which Kieran has to help after Carmine’s one remaining Pokémon goes down, because he might otherwise never have done so.

(I love that one of the things the battle camera can do while you’re idling here is cut to Kieran and linger a moment with him, with the look of either frozen terror or miserable inferiority on his face. Even though he’s technically just a background character right now for the mechanical purposes of the battle, this moment is about him, and the devs knew it.)

And of course it takes Kieran a really long time, most of the battle, to actually find the courage to fight back! His inferiority complex is so massive, so all-encompassing, the root cause of all of the desperate, self-destructive, obsessive things he’s done to try and escape it, that of course it’s so, so terrifyingly difficult for him to actually face up to it and find the strength to try and believe that… maybe it’s just wrong.

Crucially, the single thing that does the most to trigger Kieran’s shift into courage is you – you, calling out to him, asking for his help. Hearing that you actually value his strength and need his help is exactly the kind of acknowledgement that Kieran has always desperately craved from you all along. It’s just what he needs to help him believe that, just maybe, he might actually be kinda strong and worth something after all.

But even then! Even with that, his inferiority complex does not magically vanish, because of course it doesn’t work that way! All your words do is give Kieran the courage to fight it, by holding onto the fact that you believe in him and he’s not alone. His animations here are so good; there’s tears in his eyes even as he manages to snap himself into determination, because he is still so scared and just finally being really, really brave about it!

One really lovely subtlety is that the highlight in his eyes, that little visual detail that makes a character really look alive, which was completely not there in Kieran for the entirety of Indigo Disk up until now, finally comes back in the exact moment when he finds the courage to fight. And it's neat how the game manages to re-use the same screaming animation Kieran had for the beginning of the Champion fight, with the only minor differences being the tears and that highlight in his eyes, but in this new context it communicates an entirely different kind of emotion. It’s like he’s fervently psyching himself up into believing that he is capable of doing this.

And hey, Kieran’s contribution to the battle really is pretty helpful! It’s a genuinely tough fight to the point that, no matter your level, there’s a good chance you were struggling on your own for a while, so you’re probably glad he’s here to help even just in a mechanical sense. His Hydrapple’s Supersweet Syrup ability can be useful to you as well as him, and then if it goes down, he switches to Dragonite and – because of the evasiveness drop – begins spamming near-accurate Thunders on a Terapagos who is Water-type for this final phase. Look at him go! (And another thing Hydrapple can do to support you is use Dragon Cheer, which delights me, because it’s Kieran deciding that actually he’s okay with you getting all the critical hits after all. Aww.)

Once Terapagos is defeated, if you try to not catch it, Kieran will tell you that you need to do it, that “it has to be you, not me!” It’s so lovely that there’s not a hint of bitterness to him here as he says this, just perfectly comfortably accepting it, because he never really wanted Terapagos anyway and he knows it’ll be happier with you, and that’s all that matters. Even if you don’t get that line, his encouragement of you as you go for a Pokéball is more than enough to communicate the fact that he’s okay with you doing this. And Kieran’s smiling again, cheering you on with that same animation of his from back in Teal Mask when he was super excited to watch you battle his sister! This is the excitable, battle-loving kid he always was and finally is once more! His smile is even more adorable now without his hair obscuring half of it, too.

Letting it go

In the end, Kieran’s finally able to let things go thanks to multiple factors brought about by what happened in Area Zero. There’s the part where he spent the adventure being just a little bit closer to his normal self, letting him realise that he misses being like that and that maybe there was nothing inherently bad or weak about those parts of him at all. There’s the way that Terapagos going berserk served as a very stark representation of how his obsession with strength only ends up hurting himself and everyone around him, which must have helped him see that his behaviour leading up to this was doing the same kind of thing and he can’t go back to that.

And, perhaps most importantly, you acknowledged his strength by calling out for him to help you against Terapagos, which is what Kieran really needed the most all along. By joining you in the battle, he’s finally begun to face his inferiority complex, to shoot down the conviction in his mind that he’s useless and weak and can’t do anything, and prove to himself that he’s capable of confronting scary things after all, even including his own mistakes.

I do have another small writing nitpick about his dialogue in the post-battle scene, in that I don’t quite agree with his progression from “I just don’t have it in me to be like you” straight to “finally I can let it go”. Kieran was always aware of the former, deep down, but knowing that never did anything but make him latch desperately onto trying to prove that wrong no matter how impossible it felt. Meanwhile, the latter implies that he’s always consciously wanted to let it go and just somehow couldn’t despite that, which isn’t quite it either.

Instead, I think it’d work if he first went from how he can’t ever be like you into “I guess I have to just let it go”, and then from there into “Yeah… finally I can let it go”. Feeling like he simply has no choice but to let go at first, and only from there would he reflect and realise that actually, he can now, and maybe a part of him had always kind of wanted to after all.

Delightfully, as Kieran begrudgingly accepts that he can’t ever be like you, you finally get a dialogue option that lets you tell him that he’s strong and cool and worth something as he is!!! It seems like it really did take you hearing his inferiority complex directly from him in order for you to realise that this was something he needed to hear. He reflexively tries to downplay your compliment, like he didn’t really do anything impressive at all just now, because he still instinctively feels that way about himself – again, his inferiority complex has not just magically vanished, because it doesn’t work like that! – but hearing otherwise from you of all people has to be an immense help for him in fighting against it.

And it’s this that sets Kieran off crying, from that overwhelmingly positive emotion that you think he’s really cool, aww. This seems to break something of an emotional dam for him, letting him just have a good long cry about all of it, which, yes, he has so many emotions he’s needed to let out for so long now and it is good and healthy that he’s finally able to do so! (I wish this part was better animated, alas – but believe me, I am imagining him having such a big long cathartic cry even if the game isn’t managing to adequately show it.)

Then there’s the final scene! It’s so brave of Kieran to have resolved to apologise and make amends for everything he did wrong. That is scary as hell and comes with a huge risk of massive painful criticism and rejection, but he’s doing it anyway because he wants to do the right thing. He is such a good kid at heart despite his massive issues having driven him into several big mistakes.

Now that Kieran’s returned to something resembling his old self, his anxious body language from before is back – he’s barely making eye contact with you as he speaks, his head low, instinctively trying to hide his face behind the one bit of hair he still has hanging down. But nonetheless, you can tell that he’s making an effort to fight that and push himself to be just a little bit more assertive than he was able to be before all this. As he asks if you two can be friends again, he’s grimacing, already braced for rejection, hesitating then blurting out all of it in one big go before he changes his mind – there’s still a very significant part of him convinced that you’d just never want that and he doesn’t even have the right to ask. But at least he’s now able to realise that said part is probably wrong and find the courage to ask anyway! Because he wants this, and he deserves to at least try and grasp good things for himself!

And of course you still want to be his friend, because you basically always were anyway from your perspective, and Kieran is so adorably happy to have this second chance, and I am so delighted that the two of you are able to be friends again like you always should have been all along, aaaa. I could not be more proud of my boy.

(Well, I could go into a lot more detail about just how proud of and happy I am for Kieran thanks to all of his scenes in the epilogue and postgame. But that’s enough of its own separate Thing that it ought to get its own post! So hold on for that; I’m not quite done having So Many Feelings about this boy just yet. Aaand here it is!)

#pokemon #pokemon sv #pokemon scarlet and violet #the indigo disk #the hidden treasure of area zero #pokemon kieran #kieran pokemon #trainer kieran #rival kieran #champion kieran #character analysis #ramble #my buttons #friends

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jessamine-rose · 9 months

Text

‧͙☽˚⋆⁺*˚꒰ Moonrise ꒱˚*⁺⋆˚☾‧͙

Surprise, surprise, the epilogue for The Spider and the Fly was finished early!! To everyone who loved Yandere! Miguel x Variant! Darling’s story, pls enjoy this short continuation which takes place after the events of ATSV (◞ꈍ∇ꈍ)◞

Tw:: YANDERE, unhealthy relationships, self-deprecation, Stockholm Syndrome, mention of nsfw, babytrapping

Note:: Female reader, ATSV spoilers, LYLA and Darling definitely have BFF keychains

♡ 1.6k words under the cut ♡

“He did what?”

“You heard me correctly.” LYLA flickers in front of you, her expression serious. “He escaped to another dimension. So now Miguel is looking for Miles in Earth-1610 while everyone else is scattered across the multiverse.”

“I see…” Your gaze drifts to the empty side of the bed. You can’t help but feel both worried for your lover and impressed by Miles Morales.

“But here’s the good news: Your desk wasn’t damaged when they chased him around HQ! Though you’ll be very busy once you get back to work. There will be a lot of multiverse jumps in the next two days, not to mention damage control.”

Never mind, Miles must be stopped as soon as possible.

The mere thought of all those incoming reports is enough to stress you out. What more for Miguel with the fate of the multiverse?

“And of all days, this has to happen while I’m on sick leave.”

As if on cue, you are interrupted by another coughing fit.

“Do you feel worse?” LYLA quickly does a medical scan, but your results are only slightly better than yesterday’s. “You should get more rest.”

You drink more water, shooting her a grateful smile. “Thanks for the update.”

In the dim bedroom, Miguel’s AI assistant is the brightest source of light. The Nueva York skyline appears gloomy, owing to the heavy rain. Is the weather similar in Earth-1610?

“Is Miguel going to be okay? It sounds like he’s already been through a lot.”

“You know how he is. He won’t go down without a fight.”

She’s right. And based on the records of Miguel’s previous missions, Miles and The Spot will be dead once he catches them. It will be difficult to watch.

There is a moment’s hesitation before LYLA continues speaking.

“He left a message for you: ‘Get well soon. And don’t try anything funny while I’m gone.’”

Now that puts a smile on your face. “Of course. Tell him I understand.”

Two days, less supervision. A stronger ______ would definitely plan an escape attempt while Miguel is distracted, notwithstanding the tracking devices and LYLA’s surveillance. But such an opportunity is wasted on you.

If anything, you already miss him.

…Though it is nice to imagine a break from Miguel. There are only so many warnings, so many hours of his sole company, so many ruined sheets and scarlet restraints before your apprehension resurfaces. His love is as intense as it is twisted.

Regardless, the previous months have been the happiest days of your life. Not even the increase in Anomalies could get between the two of you. There is a certain bond to be found in stressing over the same reports and drinking gallons of coffee together and getting jointly reprimanded by LYLA for “overworking yourselves, amongst other forms of self-neglect.”

Your status in the Spider Society has also changed thanks to the public knowledge of your relationship, sans the dark details. It hasn’t really bothered you, apart from the friendly jokes and knowing looks you get before your regular visits to Miguel’s laboratory.

Thinking about it now, Gwen Stacy has also asked for your help in convincing Miguel to let her visit Miles. Hopefully, she is doing well in her home dimension.

Then again, she is much stronger than you. She can handle this.

A holographic screen pops up. Reading it, you follow the scheduled reminder and take your medications. At least your cold has subsided.

LYLA watches you. “You’ll make a full recovery in no time. I’ll inform Miguel.”

“That’s good to know. Can you please relay another message to him?”

“Sure, what is it?”

“‘Good luck. I’m counting on you.’” You finish your cough syrup and close the screen. “‘And please take care of yourself.’”

Even today, he made time for you. A spoon-fed breakfast. A hands-on medical examination. Caldo de pollo and other healthy pre-cooked meals. Brief video calls. A text message explaining that he would come home late due to The Spot, now unsent.

“At least it means I can delay the news.”

LYLA gives you an inquisitive look. “What news?”

You open the bedside drawer and take out a used pregnancy test.

She gasps. “Are you…?! But your medical scan—”

One line.

“Oh.” She double-checks the device for confirmation. “Another negative, huh?”

“Yeah.” After returning it to the drawer, you lie down and wrap yourself in more blankets. “Can you keep it a secret this time? I want to tell him myself.”

“Sure.” She looks at you with renewed concern. “Hey, you okay? It’s not your fault.”

“I know.”

Still, you’ve grown tired of seeing the same result or more precisely, Miguel’s reactions. How many more times can you watch his gaze shift from hopeful to disappointed? By now, you’re already taking fertility drugs and discussing adoption—not that there’s anything inferior about the latter, but your Variants were able to conceive their child. Why can’t you?

Just last week, you noticed a medical article amongst his holographic screens. Miguel had highlighted a paragraph about the connection between stress and fertility. You don’t know if the research was for you or him; but either way, nothing can be done about that.

Worst of all is the relief you feel every time you see that single line. It feels like a secret betrayal, the final shred of your sanity in collaboration with your reproductive system.

“How did she do it?”

“What?” LYLA gives you a confused look.

You lie on your side, facing her. “My Variant. I mean, she was obviously healthier and also in favor of having kids, but…how did she manage? Wasn’t she ever scared of making a mistake with Gabriella? Is it even possible for us to raise a family as happy as theirs?”

“Hey, you’ll figure it out.” She gives you a kind smile, the perfect simulation of sympathy. “It’ll be Miguel’s first time, too, you know. Your pregnancy, your baby, and everything else will be just as new to him. And you can always count on Jess or Peter B for advice.”

“He did say that I’ve warmed up to Mayday…though she still prefers Miguel.”

“Nah, that’s only cuz he lets her treat him like a playground.”

Sitting up, you look around the room. It has undergone a few redecorations since you’ve moved in, under Miguel’s permission and LYLA’s encouragement. Everywhere you look, your personal items are mixed with Miguel’s.

The desk holds a jewelry box, one of your first belongings in Nueva York. The bottom drawer holds an assortment of rings, most of which were purchased on your last shopping date.

It wasn’t anything romantic. For someone who can read several reports and statistics at the same time, Miguel looked almost overwhelmed by the variety of clothes and accessories which caught your attention. LYLA’s opinion was more helpful and fashion-literate.

…He did call you pretty in the fitting room. The comment was totally unprompted for a dress which looked no different from your usual outfits. Up until that point, you had been observing your reflections with a mix of critical looks and pleased smiles.

After blushing, you quickly brushed it off as a matter of preference—LYLA did say that he likes your personal style more than your Variant’s. It’s more suitable for Nueva York.

Never mind that his gaze was on your face, not the dress.

…

Maybe one day, a special ring will be added to the jewelry box. Hand-picked by Miguel, made of any material except pearl, a perfect fit for your ring finger. It will be deserving of a place in the hidden compartment, where you keep your collection of pretty red spiderwebs.

When you receive it, it will be a special moment exclusive to you and your Miguel O’Hara—the versions of you who met on a moonlit night in the shadows of New York City.

Whatever happens, he still loves you. You, despite your flaws and every trait which sets you apart from his Variant’s wife. That is a promise you can believe in.

The room is too cold, so you adjust the air conditioner and take out another blanket. It won’t be as warm in Miguel’s absence.

You should get more rest. The sooner you recover, the sooner you can get back to work and give him one less thing to worry about.

After his mission, you’ll welcome him home as always. He will reciprocate your kisses, call you by your special nickname, and appreciate the food you prepared—his favorites, to celebrate another saved universe. If he looks tired or stressed, you will be the one to comfort him.

…Then you will show him the pregnancy test.

The hope will appear and vanish from his gaze. There will be reassurances directed at both you and himself. Miguel will give you a hug and soft kisses, which became part of the routine after the second test. After that, he will move on to a new topic or suggest a movie night.

Then during your next ovulation, you will be confined for a different reason. You will have to deal with Miguel’s company, his passionate touches, his lovesick declarations, his desperation for your own version of domestic bliss. A small, pathetic part of you has begun to look forward to it.

If he defeats The Spot and Miles Morales.

“Hey, LYLA?” you whisper.

She moves closer to your face. “Yeah?”

“If this continues…he’s not going to alter my DNA, is he?”

“…That’s the last resort. But we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

♡

Prologue ft. Wife! Darling ๑ Side Stories

So did I jumpscare y'all with the early release of Moonrise?? It’s part of a double feature with Sunset, hence the contrasting titles and simultaneous ideas. But aahhh little did I think that I'd finish this fic ahead of schedule~

Lots of love to my beta-reader @diodellet!! And thanks again to everyone who expressed their love for my Miguel O’Hara writing. May my next idea be less painful for all of us :’>

Tag a Miguel O’Hara enjoyer!! @yanmaresu @yandere-romanticaa @yandere-daydreams @bweoo @kocherry @oofasleep @h2o2-and-baking-soda @yandere-wishes @hisachuu @weebsinstash @handsomeunderwear-art @literaree @pumpkin-toffee @curesi @miggyyyyohara @abyssalrot @letskidaddle @miguelswifey04 @skeleton-on-wheels0

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auteurdelabre · 5 months

Text

Something to Fight For (SERIES) Part 20

Something to Fight For Chapter 20 Word Count: 11.6k Pairing: Dad!Joel Miller x f!reader (no use of y/n, no physical descriptions) Tommy x Maria, Bill x Frank Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT. Loves of cheese. Extra cheese with a side of cheese. Love and more love. Happy ending. All the happy shit.

masterlist here

a/n: Ya'll this feels so strange. Even though the epilogue is on its way sometime soon, writing this chapter felt very final. Its a bittersweet feeling. After this story I won't have all of us together again. It's been a journey for us all, hasn't it? You've felt like real friends, caring for this story I invented. Sorta surreal, huh? And I TOLD YA'LL THE ANGST LED TO A HAPPY ENDING. I really hope that if you've never left a review, you decide to do so on this chapter. I also hope if you have left reviews before, you do so now. Detailed ones, ones where you tell me your favorite part cuz It was so beautiful to write, but it was also hard. I feel like I'm sayin' goodbye to a part of me. Also, SMUT WARNING. Sorry, I am not a smut writing professional. It's just sorta the icing there on Bill's cupcake. It doesn't come naturally to me, but these two deserved i t don't you think? I love ya'll. See you in the epilogue.

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Joel is finishing up watering the front lawn when he hears a car coasting down his street. He doesn't pay it any mind, turning off the spigot and heading towards his front door.

He's thinking about you. How warm you felt curled against him this morning. How your puffy eyes and gentle smile makes his heart sing even now. He wipes his damp hands on the back of his jeans.

You must be breaking things off with Paul, right? Joel saw the ring box. He saw your bare finger.

And your eyes, your eyes said so much. Even as he was leaving he saw the dueling emotions there. The quiet anxiety from your mom's incoming call mingling with the open desire to have Joel stay. He felt it coming off of you in waves.

He would have. He would do anything you wanted.

He'd help you build that sanctuary with his own bare hands. He'd move you box by box into his home tomorrow if you gave the word. He'd hold you every night and make love to you every morning if that's what you said you needed.

He'd even figure out how to travel back and forth from home to Chicago and Austin for the next six months without it disrupting Sarah's life too much, if it's not a permanent move on your end. A combination of odd weekend visits and daily phone calls seems manageable. He'd even learn how to text properly. He doesn't want you back in Chicago, but he'd do it. He will continue to fight for you.

He needs to tell you this, he decides. He needs to spell it out. The word love was sputtered last night, without thought. But he needs to say it with clear eyes and your body against his. He needs you to know exactly what he's offering. He'll call to see if you’re free before the wedding to talk.

This can't wait.

He pulls the front door open, his hand reaching into his pocket for his cell phone. He hopes you answer.

"Joel!"

He spins in the door frame, his eyes widening. It's you. You're here, pulling yourself from the driver’s side of a car he doesn't recognize.

You're wearing some green dress that has far too many bows but Joel doesn't give a shit, all he can think is it's you it’s you and your here for him. You have a blazing look in your eyes, sharp and focused all on him as you march to his front door.

He feels a pull at his abdomen, a delicious sensation because there's no indecision in you anymore. It's there written in your face: you want Joel. You're here for him, to claim him.

Because he's wanted.

Joel feels a smile break over his face, his teeth a slab of white against the tan of his face that has you laughing and sobbing in equal measure. He steps away from the door because you're running to him the rest of the way, your face breaking into a smile as you launch yourself into Joel's arms.

"Honey-"

He doesn't get another word out because you've launched yourself into his chest, circling your arms around his neck. He grunts as your body collides with his and grips you in surprise. He holds fast to you against him, staring down at your tear-streaked face.

And then you're gripping his face, pulling it to meet yours. Kissing him with a ferocity that he's not expecting but is oh so responsive to. There on his doorstep you kiss him, your mouth hot and needy as Joel kisses you back, pulling you against him before panting as brings you inside the house, almost carrying you over the threshold.

You're frantic, needing to touch and kiss and make up for lost time. To show him through your passion just how much you've missed him, how much he means to you. He's still got you in his strong arms, his hands skating down your back. Your hands are coming to his collar, desperate for him to press you against the wall as he did not so long ago at your place.

Whoa slow down.

You need to talk. To get things right. You break apart from Joel slowly, your mouth reddened. Joel smiles so widely you're concerned he might pull a face muscle.

"Too much?"

You shake your head as he begins lowering your feet to the floor.

"Not enough."

Then the silence descends as he stares at you. Joel has this uncanny ability to remain so still he almost looks static. His fingers drag the strand of hair caught on your damp lips, but his finger stays at your cheek, frozen. The moment feels heavy, thick with tension and you second guess everything.

Maybe now is a bad time. This seems like one of those things a person does when they look and feel perfect. And you don't. You're sweaty and dressed ridiculously and you're pretty sure your hair still has grass in it.

Joel seems to sense your indecision and responds by reaching out his broad hand and taking yours. You immediately relax, the warmth of his grip guiding you to the kitchen.

You look up his arm, your eyes sliding to his strong profile and his full mouth as he leads you. He feels your eyes on him and he turns, smiling sweetly.

I love this man.

His hand presses you gently into the seat at the kitchen table, urging you to relax into it. You look up at him and hold in a sigh when he traces a forefinger along your cheek again.

"I'll be back in a sec."

He leaves the room and for a moment you sit there in the kitchen of so many memories you feel so incandescently happy that it brings tears to your lash line. Coloring with Sarah. Decorating cupcakes. Joel's dinner, the dropped salad. Laughter, tears, so much is just in this single room of the house.

Joel reappears seconds after you wipe the tears away. He sits across from you, his broad shoulders flexing as he places something on the table.

He clears his throat, finally dragging his eyes to meet yours and now suddenly he looks nervous. This makes your anxiety flood your senses, starting to creep up your spine.

Then you realize the time. How Joel is dressed. How you’re dressed for fucks sake. The wedding is only a few hours away and Sarah is probably still getting ready. Why did you think now was the best time? This is something you should have done when you could take your time, not rush. You’d just been so excited to see him, to tell him.

"Shit I'm sorry. You're probably still getting Sarah ready," you say wincing and preparing to stand. "We can talk about this later, tomorrow or -"

Joel raises his hand in your direction, just his palm between you, stilling your ascent. His eyes are troubled by your reaction.

"Stop. Honey, just sit there a moment, please."

Honey.

How is it that words or nicknames that sound so trite coming from other people sound so perfect coming from Joel? You nod, planting yourself back into the chair and taking a deep breath.

"Tommy took Sarah about an hour ago. Maria wanted her to get her hair done with the bridesmaids, a little something special for being the flower girl."

You smile. That sounds like Maria.

"I was just getting ready here, but I got time." Joel's eyes tell you he's sincere, that he always has time for you. And then suddenly he's so earnest. "I'm real glad you're here."

"Me too."

"Be lyin' if I said I haven't been thinking about you since I left."

"Same here."

"Yeah?"

You nod and Joel's face is like the sun breaking through clouds. But in life rain always does fall, and as if just remembering this, Joel's face tenses. That familiar tic in his jaw is back at he gazes at you.

"Paul?"

"Gone. Done. Over."

You spare him the details. You have a feeling if Joel knew even a hint of what went on today he would personally drive over to Paul's house and finish what Bill started. And you don't want that. Right now you just want this happy, hopeful joyful warmth.

Joel swallows and you can see he needs the clarity. To know that he's not imagining this. "This a permanent thing or-"

“I called off the engagement," you explain plainly. "I couldn't marry him. I couldn't be with him. Ever. Not when I feel how I do about you."

Joel tries to hide the smile, but it blooms all over his face all the same. His mouth curls, his eyes squint and you have to physically restrain yourself from leaping across the table and kissing him senseless.

You think he's going to ask you to explain in more detail. To tell him exactly what you mean about how you feel about him. But his eyes are on the pink paper at his elbow. Joel taps it with a forefinger before sliding it towards you, his eyes on your face. As it approaches you see it's an envelope.

"Open it up," Joel tells you softly, even though you can see that this envelope has been opened and closed a multitude of times, creased and folded.

You open it with shaking hands, unsure of what to expect inside. He wrote you a letter? When? Large crooked letters greet you.

"Joel I wunt u to bee my Vallentane. I love Sarah. I love you. I wint to be yr wife. LOVE - "

You read your name aloud, your eyes flicking to his. "What is this?"

"You don't recognize it?" Joel taps the card with a forefinger. A familiar Snoopy sticker greets you and suddenly your face breaks into a confused smile.

The Valentine that Sarah had made all those months ago, the one she'd insisted you personally give to her father.

“Sarah…”

"When I asked her about it the next morning she said that you had written it."

You laugh out loud in disbelief at the shrewdness of Sarah. Joel chuckles along with you.

"She loves you. She thinks you hang the moon," Joel drawls.

"The feeling is mutual," you say with a soft smile.

"You're wanted in this house, in this family," Joel says motioning to the letter. "You make us better."

You weren't expecting this. You actually can't speak.

Joel is thinking, clearly displayed in the lines between his brows, the way his dark eyes scan in front of him as if he's trying to recall something very specific. After a moment you sober, closing the card because you need to say it before you lose your nerve. You need to tell him everything.

"Joel -"

"I'm in love with you," Joel tells you bluntly, beating you to it. "Have been for a while. Thought it was kinda obvious but I'm realizing you're a woman that may need things said out loud a couple times before she believes them. So just to be sure there's no misunderstanding, I'm tellin' you plainly as I can: I love you. I don't want anyone else. I just want you."

The sound of Joel telling you he loves you may just be the most beautiful thing you've ever heard. Better than any song. Even the one he sang to you. He reaches across the table to take your hands in his.

It makes your eyes water and a smile to break out over your features. It also creates a knot in your throat, making it impossible to speak. But that might be for the best because Joel is still going.

"And I don't just love you because of how you love my daughter, though I'd be lying if I said that didn't have some part in it," Joel admits. "I just don't remember the last time I wanted someone to share my day with or wake up next to as much as I do with you. I go to sleep thinkin' about you. I drive by a shitty Italian restaurant and I think about you. I see a fucking dog at job site I'm working and I think about you. Something happens to me and it's you I wanna talk to about it."

You want to believe these words, you want to believe them so badly but then just as your heart starts to glow, something holds you back. Something that always seems to grip those threads of joy only to slice through them. An ugly, twisting thing that makes you wince and curl into yourself when you remember what Paul said. When you think about your phone call with your father earlier. How can you be so happy when you’ve just been so cruel?

Selfish.

Joel's eyes scan your face, immediately picking up on your agitation. He drops your hands and your eyes slide closed because suddenly you feel so weak. Your head drops forward and all the good feeling, the sweet burst of joy is gone, leaving you drained.

"Honey."

His voice is so tender, so gentle. He's there at your side within seconds, kneeling beside your chair. He's gripping you loosely by the waist, the other hand cupping your face.

"I can tell right now that you're having trouble hearing this because somewhere along the way you were taught you didn't deserve to be loved," Joel says, his eyes searching your face. "And you're wantin’ to tell me you're a horrible, selfish person. And that I should just forget about you."

He knows. He knows my worst self. He knows everything.

You feel so vulnerable but his eyes are blazing so brightly right now you can't look away.

"But I'm never gonna do that," Joel says, his thumb grazing along your cheekbone. "'Cuz I think you're the best thing to happen to me since Sarah was born. And if I have to spend my whole life convincing you of that, I will. I will fight every fucking day because what we have is worth fighting for. You are worth fighting for."

If falling in love had a specific moment it would be this one. Joel Miller, all muscles and wet eyes staring up at you as he kneels at your side promising you a love and life you could only dream of.

"So that's all I wanted to say," Joel finishes with eyes so luminous you could cry. "I love you. Be with me. Just... just let me fucking love you."

His last sentence makes your heart seize. You're so overcome you can't speak right away. Instead you slide off the chair to join him on the floor, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and embracing him, head balanced on his shoulder.

Joel reciprocates immediately, pulling you against him tightly. There you sit with arms around each other as Joel rocks you. This moment, this deep serenity works its way through your tight muscles and increment by increment you go boneless against him.

I love him.

With a tremble you pull back. It's still too overwhelming to look at him directly so you just balance your forehead against his, the two of you breathing deeply. You breathe slowly, you matching Joel’s steady tempo.

I love him so much.

And then finally you tilt back from him, needing to see the warmth of his dark brown eyes. He's there, present, his eyes fixed on yours.

"I want a cat."

Joel nods without thinking before his face contorts into surprise and then confusion.

"Wait, what?"

"A kitten, actually," you decide. "An orange one. Sarah was saying she wants a kitten anyway. "

A grin has broken over Joel's face. It makes him look younger, his entire disposition vibrant. It matches yours. His hands are coming to cup each of your cheeks.

"Anything you want," Joel breathes. "Anything."

You smile, no, you beam up at him. You can tell him. You can. You can trust Joel to hold your secrets and not hate you. You can trust Joel with your love because it doesn’t come with receipts or price tags or debts to be owed. Your love for him will be cherished, not a ransom so you can be plucked apart piece by piece.

"I came here because I needed to tell you in person that I'm not going to Chicago," you say with a tensing inhale. "I spoke to my dad today."

Joel's thumb is stroking your cheek and for the first time since you've entered into his home, he looks scared. His dark eyes are suddenly pensive and you can see the way the wheels are turning. You’re confused by this reaction.

"Don't do this for me," he murmurs. "I can't be the reason. Even if I want it more than anything. You'd resent me if you did."

"I didn't," you promise him. "I did it for me. I did it because I want to be happy. I don’t want that life back in Chicago. And I did it because I can't go another day without you, Joel."

Hope blooms there in the dark brown earth of his eyes. It grows beautiful and brilliant but under glass. It's too good to be true; he's so eager, so desperate but past experience has humbled him.

"Waking up in your arms this morning was one of the best feelings in the entire world," you explain with open honesty. "I want that every morning. I want to have coffee with you and go to the park with Sarah. I want to read her to bed every night and then crawl in next to you. I wanna make pancakes on Sundays and go to trivia nights with you and Maria and Tommy. I want a life with you."

Joel's heart is rapid and staccato the more you spill forth because what you're saying sounds dangerously close to what Joel desires. Is it possible?

"I'm absolutely crazy about you, Miller," you confess without hesitation now, wanting to take the tentative insecurity from his gaze. "I'm done pretending I don't want you. I'm tired of not holding you. I'm tired of being away from you and Sarah. I want a family with you, I want a future. I want it all but I only want it with you. I-I love you Joel."

The smile is broad on his handsome face, bringing out the dimple that makes your heart hiccup.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

He's got a forefinger tilting your chin so you face up to him.

"No runnin'?"

"Only to you."

That does something to Joel. Like a snap to his spine. Only to him. Because he's yours and when your lips press against his it's like every wall that exists comes tumbling down, shattering spectacularly.

You’re his.

It's here, its happening. He's so grateful, so overcome he can't hold it in.

It's only when you feel damp warmth against your cheek that your eyes fly open. You see another tear slip down Joel's cheek, his eyes still closed as he kisses you tenderly and you feel something within you burst.

You didn't expect to be crying but here you are, sniffling with hot tears slipping your face. Joel is all glassy eyed trying to wipe your tears from your cheeks as you do the same for him, both your thumbs gliding over each other's cheekbones.

"What a pair," Joel says with a sniffle.

You both give big watery laughs at this, giggling like you had only a day ago as you walked down the aisle. His thumb is lingering along your lower lip when the laughter slowly ebbs.

Then his face is tilting towards you and you don't have to turn away. Because there is no Paul, no Tess. Because Joel is taking something for himself and so are you.

Mine.

Your lips join once more, your eyes falling shut as he brings you back into his arms, sighing against you. He rocks you slowly in his arms, moving his mouth to your temple and murmuring sweet nothings, promises, loving verse.

Slowly you tilt your head back, your heavy lidded gaze on his. Your eyes trail over his mouth, then back to see him watching you intently. His dark eyes flicker in understanding. His mouth is on yours once more for a scorching kiss and then Joel is standing, holding a wide hand to you.

You take it without hesitation, rising to your feet and walking hand in hand to the bedroom. You smile softly at each other as he gently pushes the door open and as he does all you can think is that you're finally here with him in his bedroom properly.

He looks nervously around, as if he’s expecting everything to fall to pieces.

“What are you thinking about?”

“That I wish I’d cleaned the fucking room.”

You see the bedroom through his eyes now and hold in a chuckle. The scattered clothes on the ground, the belts slung over the treadmill in the far left of the room, the bed haphazardly made. The empty water glasses on the nightstand, the CD’s scattered atop the dresser.

“I can work with this,” you assure him, giggling nervously as he leads you to the bed. He assures you with relief that the sheets are clean before you both sit at the edge of his bed. His hand is on your knee, thumb tracing small circles on the soft inner, leading to your thigh.

You watch this hypnotized, breathing unsteadily when his hand begins to drift upwards, under your skirt. He says your name once, seeing the uncertainty in your features. When you don’t reply he says it again, and now you glance up at him. His brows raise, a silent question. What’s wrong?

"I'm scared," you whisper, your mind suddenly going over everything that could go wrong with this relationship.

What if you break up? What if Joel turns? What if you run again? It feels too good, too perfect already and time has taught you not to trust the calm times. Time has taught you that calm times come before tidal waves. That calm times are a harbinger of greater carnage.

"Me too." Joel kisses the corner of your mouth. “But I got you, baby.”

You nod, still pensive, even though the pull below your navel is debilitating at this point. Joel urges your gaze to his, seeing the lowering of your lids and the gentle shuddering of you. You can see him there, thick and waiting in his jeans.

“We could wait until tonight,” Joel offers, grazing your arm with his knuckles. “Or tomorrow. Hell, I’ll wait as long as you need. I just want you here is al-”

No. You don’t want to wait. You need Joel in a way you’ve never needed anyone.

“I can’t wait,” you inform him before the sentence leaves his mouth. You’re on your knees on the bed, your body pressed against his as your mouth tilts towards him.

“Well alright then,” Joel chuckles, his hands going to either side of your neck, his thumbs resting on the architecture of your jaw. You melt into his kiss, your hands gripping his shirt by the front.

Joel shifts back against the headboard, bringing you along with him to straddle his thighs. He kisses you languidly, slowing your frenetic motions. He can feel your movements, quick and sharp like a hummingbirds as you kiss him, tongue sliding between the seam of his soft lips. He pulls back gently, amused.

“We got time, baby,” he breaths against your trembling mouth. “Don’t have to rush anything.”

For some reason that hits you directly below the navel. The knowledge that Joel wants to take his time with you. No rushing, just the lazy pursuit of mutual pleasure. It’s so opposite to what you know of sex.

He's tender, his movements slow, his touches light. But that's not what you want right now. You want to feel it, more heavy tactile reality that this is happening, your body with his. You're straddling him, licking into his mouth as he holds your thighs, his mouth moving over yours as he groans.

I want to take care of him.

Joel has spent so much of your time together taking care of you – doctor’s appointments, kennels, that night of the Christmas party . . . Joel is always looking out for others and you want to take care of him for once. It’s not expected or forced upon you, it’s got you slick between the thighs just thinking about it.

“Take my dress off,” you whisper. Joel’s hands come to the hem of your dress with zero hesitation and he peels the unflattering dress from you, lifting it up over your arms stretched high over your head. It’s tossed gently to the other side of the room, making a soft flutter as it descends. You sit astride Joel’s lap in nothing but your lacy green underwear that you’d bought specifically for the wedding.

No bra, you’d decided. The dress fit better without it. Seeing Joel’s eyes darken you’re so fucking glad you decided on that.

“Jesus,” Joel breathes, mouth coming to circle your left nipple without pause. You moan into his mouth, feeling as his hands span your middle back, pushing you into his greedy mouth. You feel him grinding against your core, his jeans rasping against the gusset of your panties.

“Clothes off, Miller.”

He grins up at you, shimmying out of his jeans, kicking them down his legs as you bracket above him. You take your time pulling the shirt over his head, marvelling at how he looks as he disrobes. His skin is gold, his body a mixture of strength of softness. His hair tousled his mouth full and parted. He looks delicious.

You see his eyes snap back to your bare chest, getting ready to claim another straining nub between his teeth when you pull back, smiling. He tilts his head curiously as you begin backing up, sliding your body down his.

He’s breathing shallowly, quickly as your cheek brushes past his boxers, grazing his length there. He gives a sharp grunt, watching as you pull down his boxers, releasing his cock with a spring. You tug them off completely, tossing the boxers over your shoulder with a flourish before nestling yourself between his legs and admiring the rosy head of his cock.

Like you said. Joel Miller looks delicious.

You trail a finger along his length, fascinated by the rigid yet silken texture. It twitches at the contact. You smirk up at him from between his legs, your pupils blown wide at the view.

Joel is so fucking sexy. Laid back, legs tilted to give you space to lay between them, his cock is there waiting for your mouth and this time it’s happening. No distractions, no delays. You have been aching to get your mouth on him. You dip your head forward, eyes closed as your mouth brushes the head. You hear Joel give a low gasp, thighs twitching.

"You don't have to do this," Joel moans, even as you give kitten licks along the tip. You smile as his fingers brush your cheek, sweet and affectionate.

Your mouth moves over the head, flicking with your tongue and then taking it into the wet warmth of your mouth. You begin to suck, delicately at first, just enough to hear the first shuddering groan from Joel.

Joel Miller is a giver. Joel Miller doesn't know what it is to take from the people he loves, to have something for himself, a secret treasure of only his. But you'll show him and starting now because you have so much you want to give to him. If you could carve out your heart and carry on living you would do it, present it to him to safeguard.

"You don't have-"

You pull your mouth off of him slowly, watching him quiver. His eyes are open and he's looking down the length of his body to see you.

"Joel, I love you but please shut the fuck up and let me do this," you say fake crossly, wet lower lip grazing his tip. "Just let me make you feel as good as you've made me feel."

Joel's eyes are glossy. "Say it again,"

"Shut the fuck up?"

His head jerks so slightly you're not sure you caught it. "No. The other thing."

You smile slyly before your flattened tongue slides from base to tip, your eyes on him the entire time. "Let me make you feel good?"

"The- the other-"Joel makes a strangled groaning noise and you move over the head again, kissing gently as it twitches before taking in his thickness deep into your warm mouth once more.

As you lay there between his legs in the bed you're struck by the realization that you feel so relaxed. The bed is warm and Joel is warm and when you hear his groans you feel so impossibly good.

You shut your eyes and just feel and taste and enjoy Joel. You've never wanted to do this for a man so much. Never wanted to take your time and explore them like this. With Joel every piece of him feels sacred, every part of him worthy of your intimate attention and every time he lets out a little moan or grunt you feel yourself grow giddy. You love making him feel good.

Joel is squirming, his grunts hitting you right at your core. He can't think now, his entire body poised. Your mouth feels so fucking good, he needs more of it.

Joel never thought that a blowjob could feel loving, but this does. He lays there watching you; your eyes shut so softly, mouth moving achingly slow around him. It feels tender, it's you wanting to take care of him, sweet and soft and oh fuck ... Joel feels his breath come out in a shudder. You feel so fucking good around him. Too good.

Your hands are palm flat on his thighs, bracing there as you take more of him into your mouth, sighing happily and hollowing your cheeks. Before long you can hear the sound of him whimpering. Soft, gravely whimpers that make you feel heady because you're making Joel fucking Miller whimper.

"Don't wanna finish in your mouth, baby," he rumbles, pressing your cheek gently. "Not tonight."

You understand, pulling gently off of him. Without pausing you crawl the length of him, coming to rest in his arms beside him. He pulls you flush against his chest, your hips meeting. He’s breathing in soft pants and you can feel him hard against your thigh your own lower half aching with need for him.

He stares at you for a long time, a curiously long time considering what you'd just been in the middle of doing. His eyes are warm and open as he takes in how your face looks flushed and needy. Yet it's you who says it.

"You're beautiful."

Joel immediately feels himself flush at your compliment. A guy being beautiful? He's never been called beautiful, and it makes him feel shy. You notice the shy way he looks away, tips of his ears pinking.

"No," you insist, gripping his face in your hands. "Don't. I love looking at your face. Your beautiful, perfect face."

He smiles, all teeth and dimple which sets your heart racing. He props his head up with one hand, the other going to the back of your neck. He holds you there, one thumb stroking the side of your neck as he stares at you.

As you lay there, face tilted into Joel’s pillow you smile, inhaling gently. The scent of his shampoo and just him. It makes you feel calm, but it also makes you pull a face, cringing as you recall something from months ago. Joel can see it immediately in your face, his own features turning concerned.

"What?"

“Nothing.”

You feel Joel’s eyes on you even with yours closed. You give an embarrassed smile. "Promise not to laugh?"

"No."

You bark out a surprised laugh, drawing an amused chuckle from Joel. You love making him smile like that, in that unguarded, playful way.

"Never mind then," you say with a smug smirk, rolling away from him.

"C'mon," he needles you, nose brushing against your neck to tickle, drawing you back to face him again. "Don't be like that. No secrets."

He says it smiling, but you hear that underline in the last sentence. No secrets. No, you don't want any between you either.

“It’s just a bit embarrassing.”

“I don’t mind,” Joel insists. “I’ll trade you an embarrassing story for yours.”

“You go first.”

“Once when I was eight I got caught stealing baseball cards from one of my friends at school. My mom got called down to the school and I had to apologize in front of everyone.” Joel looks so sheepish recalling this memory you want to laugh.

“Joel that’s barely embarrassing,” you say rolling your eyes.

“Ah ah, deals a deal,” Joel insists, gently tilting your chin so you face him. You sigh.

"Fine. It’s stupid. It's just. . . Back before, when you and I weren't together. . ." You trail off, this story not feeling funny anymore. If anything it makes you sad.

"What?" Joel looks nervous. "Tell me."

"I snuck in here one time when I was babysitting,” you say in a rush, eyes closed. “And I uh, touched myself on your bed."

Joel looks like he's been electrocuted. He physically jerks. "What?"

You feel yourself going beet red all the way to your roots. Why did this seen like a good story too share? It's humiliating. You pull the sheets over your head, your voice coming out muffled.

"I told you it was embarrassing!"

"Jesus Christ," Joel growls. "You were touching yourself in my bed?"

You're silent under the sheets, your breathing unsteady. You'd expected him to laugh at you or even pity you. Neither is happening. His voice drops an octave.

"Did you come?"

Your toes curl at the husky tinge in his voice. You're powerless when you feel him dragging the sheets down your face, exposing your face to him. His eyes are like furnaces, desire licking the edges.

"Did you?"

"Mhmm," you manage.

"Show me," he rasps and it's like you're back in the kitchen, hands down your pants as Joel begs you to touch yourself for him. You feel him peeling off your panties under the sheets, rolling your hips so that he can remove them entirely.

"Please baby," Joel whispers, kissing your shoulder. Then he pauses to kiss you gently, so gently, reverently on the mouth, eyes searching yours.

"But only if you want."

Joel doesn't want what you won't give him freely. He has no desire to take and take like Paul and James. And because of this you want to give him everything.

And so you nod, flushing when Joel removes the blankets from your body leaving your naked body tingling and exposed to the cool air.

He makes a low sound in the back of his throat. He takes your hand gently in his, raising it to his mouth. You think he means to kiss you knuckles when his pillowy lips circle your fore and middle finger. Not breaking eye contact he sucks them into his wet, warm mouth, trailing his tongue over your digits, coating them in his spit.

Satisfied, Joel drags them from his mouth, urging the damp digits along the seam of your throbbing pussy and gently pushing inside. You whimper at the contact, your eyes stuck on his as you begin to work your fingers on either side of your clit. You don't look away from Joel as you do. You simply flush under his heated gaze, your toes curling as you moan at the sensation of not only touching yourself, but by being watched by Joel as you do. He's thick and aching as he watches you but he makes no attempt to touch himself.

He rests his palm over yours loosely. He's not guiding, not moving, he wants to feel you touching yourself, wants to learn what turns you on.

"I can't believe you're real," he whispers as you begin to rock against your hand. "So fucking perfect."

You're not perfect. Your body has flaws, many that you could point out to him. But when Joel looks at you, dark eyes melting along your curves you know he believes what he says.

He removes his hand from over top yours, wanting to just watch you. He memorizes the way your lower lip quivers, the way your brows saddle as you stroke yourself. He’s never been so turned on in his life.

"What were you thinking about when you did it?" Joel asks you huskily.

"You," you murmur, eyes lazily closed as your fingers work between your thighs. You can feel his eyes on you, raking over every part of your body.

"Yeah?" You can hear the smile in his voice. You both already knew the answer, but his ego likes hearing it out loud.

"Fucking you," you groan, fingers working hurriedly over the pearl of your clit. "Your mouth, fuck your mouth is so sexy Joel."

Joel's (very sexy) mouth moves over your nipple, kissing there. His eyes are on you as he does.

"And your tongue," you whisper, arching further into his mouth.

His tongue laves at your straining nub, his teeth coming to graze and then gently nibble. That sends electric currents running through your entire body, your legs jerking out without thought or control.

Then he pulls back, his eyes roaming your flushed and naked body. Your eyes crack open to see him; mouth parted and fixed on your face as you squirm. You whimper his name, the taste of it sweet. He drops his head forward to kiss you, a tender thing.

"C'mon baby," Joel urges against your temple. "Show me how you made yourself come on my sheets."

You cannot form words. When Joel talks like that, filthy and low and growled it hits directly between your legs. You can offer only a symphony of grunts and mewls and whimpers and you feel your entire body tighten and then blissfully release.

"Oh that's it," Joel murmurs lazily as he watches you come. "Oh fuck. ... Yeah baby... Just like that... All for me."

Always for you, you want to tell him. But you're too far gone, the bliss overwhelming you. And finally you come, coating your fingers as your head is thrown back into the pillow.

Before you can say anything, Joel is between your legs, gently prying them apart. You make a surprised noise as he throws your legs over his broad shoulders, opening you to him. You watch as his fingers part you.

"Fuck if I'd known," Joel murmurs, licking a stripe up your pussy. He doesn't finish the thought, simply begins to kiss your cunt with wild, open mouthed kisses that have you arching back into the bed.

"Joel I -"

"C'mon baby," he groans, sucking on your clit languidly. "My mouth and my tongue remember? Be good and come on 'em now."

Jesus Christ. You’re already there. Already so close when he sucks your clit into his mouth, humming in delight as your thighs tremble around his head. And its only seconds when you feel yourself cresting. He feels it too, making encouraging humming noises as his hands come to hold you in place, spanning over your lower abdomen.

And then you feel your entire body release against his tongue, punching out groans as he laps between your legs, murmuring how good you taste, how much he’s missed your pussy, how he can’t believe how lucky he is.

You murmur his name, arms outstretched in his direction. He crawls to you, up the length of your naked body pressing glossy o’s on your exposed flesh as he ascends. Then his face gets near and you can see his eyes are unfocused. You sigh softly as his mouth finds yours.

He kisses you long and slow, his tongue dancing with yours. It's not long before you feel his free hand sliding down from your neck, over your straining nipple, along your lower belly and then coming to cup your sex softly.

You let out a small choked noise when his fingers slide down the seam, parting you. Brushing against your aching core.

"Want you inside me," you urge, impatiently, his mouth still moving over yours. Joel chuckles, a warm, loving sound that feels like a cracking fireplace.

"You nice and wet for me?" he asks even though as his fingers slowly curl around your swollen bud, he can tell you're absolutely soaked. He sinks the first finger in, finding absolutely no resistance. You're so ready, so open and you take him to the knuckle without hesitation, moaning.

He watches the emotions flicker across your face as he adds a second finger, slowly working them in and then out. Sees the shuttering of your eyes as you lean into his hand whimpering. Your exquisite, your here, your his.

"All mine," he rumbles against your jaw.

It feels so good. His wide fingers hit those perfect spots that you're fingers can never seem to reach. You crack your eyes open to see Joel staring at you, his eyes so dominated by his pupil they look black. He moans softly when you're eyes meet his. He's taking his time, so fucking slowly.

"Please Joel," you whisper breathlessly. Your eyes are heavy with need, matching his. “Don’t make me wait anymore.”

He nods and the bed creaks as he rolls gently over top of you. Another deep kiss is pressed to your mouth as his hips find yours. He notches himself at your entrance and instinctively your thighs go to bracket his hips.

I love him. I love him. I love him.

Your entire body is trembling, and this is only soothed when you realize that Joel's is as well. His entire body has broken into small, shudders of aching need. Your eyes drift open and his heart swells as you grin up at him.

You need him. No more waiting. You lean forward, kissing him gently. He responds in kind, one hand against your lower back pulling you tighter to him. You think that you could spend your entire life kissing Joel and it wouldn't be nearly enough.

He's braced on his forearms above you, one wide hand coming to brush the hair from your face.

"Wanted this for so long," he tells you in a murmur and you know he doesn't just mean the sex. Your eyes are glassy as you nod up at him.

"Me too."

He moves slowly into you, your shifting hips leading him into your waiting core. You hiss slightly at the intrusion. He's bigger than Paul or James.

"Easy," Joel whispers against your temple. "Don't have to rush it."

You nod as his mouth comes to meet yours, his body moving languidly against yours. His left hand finds yours gripping the sheets. He slips his palm over yours, lacing your fingers in his and holding you there. You feel your entire body melt into his.

"Fuck, honey ... So good," Joel groans as he continues to sheaths himself in you, his head falling forward against your shoulder on the pillow. You whimper, needy and desperate for more. He feels so good. So right. "Those sounds."

He licks into your mouth, groaning as your hands come to rest under his arms, gripping his broad back as you urge him deeper and deeper.

“You’re so deep,” you groan, body jerking against his. The bed creaks gently, rhythmically as he fucks you. No, not fucking – he makes love to you. As if he thinks your body is as sacred as you think his is.

"Say the other thing," Joel whispers against your neck. "Please."

You feel his hips surge forward, filling both your body and heart. You smile, tilting your cheek so he looks at you. You won't say this next part until your gazes are locked.

"I love you," you say, rolling your hips up against him, your body in communion with his. You see his eyebrows saddle, his eyes watery.

"Again, please," he groans, his eyes never moving from your face. He didn't even need to ask because the words are already there, offered to him as they will always be offered to him.

"I love you, Joel."

His mouth is on yours, and his hips plunge deeper into you and now he's rambling between deep kisses, speaking against your mouth.

"I love you... so long... F-fuck, feel so… Wanna make you feel good, fucking l-love you so much."

His hips are snapping, his resolve unravelling as you cry out. He feels so good, so perfect between your thighs. You wonder if it is always supposed to feel this good, this easy. Desire licks at your belly, your hand coming to cup his cheek so he's looking at you. Something about his eyes, seeing them vacillate between dreamy and sharp makes you lose control.

"You gonna come again baby?" Joel murmurs to himself, his body coiled. Joel is, as he was not so long ago that time when you rode his thigh, amazed at how quickly you do. How perfectly in synch your bodies are.

His voice is tinged with lust obviously, but also a deep affection that borders on awe. It makes your pulse spike and your body begins to spasm because you’re so fucking close, the pleasure building to an almost uncomfortable level.

"J-joel-"

"S'okay," Joel tells you with a kiss. "I've got you. I've got you, baby, just let go."

These words, these gentle urging words are what send you cresting and you come with a sharp moan. Your body moves in time with his and you don't realize that you're crying until Joel's hips slow and he's peering into your face.

"Do you want to stop? Are you okay?"

"What?! Don't stop!" You gasp, urging his hips with a small tap of your hand. It feels so good, you’re already on the precipice again.

He seems to understand because his movements restart in earnest and his mouth is kissing your tears away. You’re hiccup-crying but only because it feels so perfect, the bliss so intense and you're just so thankful for him. For existing. For loving you in a way you'd never thought possible. And you’re crying because you get to be the one to love Joel.

And soon you do come again; your cries are loud, jagged and needy as he thrusts against you over and over. You chant his name, kissing his mouth, arms around his shoulder for purchase as he seeks to bury himself further inside you.

"I love you," you cry, your hips rolling against his, wanting to make him feel as good as you do. "Love you so fucking much, Joel."

He spills into you, his groans sharp in your ear as he groans out your name, long and low. It seems to go on forever, filling you so deeply. His body is still wrapped around you as his hips finally stutter to a stop.

You stay like that, tangled against one another until Joel presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth and gently eases himself from between your slick thighs. You both sigh as he rolls to your side, pulling you into his arms as if he’s terrified to let you go.

You want to go to sleep, snuggled like this in the warmth of his arms but you’re far too aware of the time.

"We should shower," you say with a pant.

"Together?" Joel murmurs, raising a brow over the eye peering in your direction from the pillow.

"Christ, Miller," you say with a breathy laugh. "If we do that we're never making it to the wedding."

And while there isn't time for a communal shower there is time for a soft "I love you". It’s whispered against one anothers' lips, like a flower pressed between the pages of a book, before you leave hand in hand for the wedding a short while later.

There will always be time for that.

///

Sarah has always been a grateful child. She's always been quick with her thank you's, never found it difficult to share her toys and loves seeing those she cares for happy.

So when her fifth birthday wish of a mama had come true so perfectly in the form of you, she thought it only fair to use her sixth birthday wish for something more philanthropic.

That day with her father at her side, whispering to make a wish she had done so with thought of Joel and he alone.

I wish my daddy had a wife.

And now as she stands looking up from her basket of real flower petals to see you and her daddy walking hand in hand towards her, gazing at each other and then her.

The two of you are trying so hard not to be too obvious and failing spectacularly. Daddy is smiling so widely Sarah actually smiles just looking at him. He's staring at you as the two of you walk, making your way to the ranch.

You're all blushing, laughing at something Daddy said. You both look so beautiful with you in your dress and him in his suit.

The two of you both look over and see Sarah at the same time and it's hard to say who looks more excited, you or daddy.

"Hey bug!" "Hi babygirl!"

The two of you laugh at your mingled pet names as you reach her. You're the first to drop to your knees and Sarah doesn't miss the way her father stares at the back of your head with a sweet little smile.

Sarah feels her tiny heart hammering as you look to her with arms outstretched and she runs into them, her tiny arms wrapping so tightly around your neck you give a grunt.

Sarah looks over your shoulder at her Daddy. She's confused when she sees his eyes are wet. But his smile is right, so she doesn't think much of it. She pulls back and is confused that your eyes are wet too.

But maybe it's just allergies? Sarah heard one of the other bridesmaids talking about how an outdoor wedding was hell on hers at the salon earlier today.

"Daddy can we have pancakes tomorrow morning?"

"'Course, babygirl."

"And you'll be there right?" Sarah says, looking to you imploring. You seem momentarily taken aback, glancing up at Joel suddenly anxious.

"Yeah, she'll be there," Joel assures you both with a smile. "She's actually gonna be over a lot more often."

Sarah looks at your face breaking into a smile again. Sarah grins, wanting to scatter all the flower petals in the world right now. But then you sober, taking both of her little hands in yours.

"If that's okay with you, Sarah," you say seriously, your eyes searching her face. "I don't want you feeling uncomfortable."

Sarah can tell there's no guile there. If Sarah told you no, you'd respect it. She can feel that.

"S'okay with me," Sarah says. "I like you there."

"Thanks bug," you say and press a gentle kiss to the crown of her head. Like a mom would. Sarah feels warmth blooming through her body.

"Maybe you could have a sleepover at our house." Sarah looks over at her Daddy. "Daddy can she sleep over?"

You give Daddy a funny look when he barks out a laugh.

"Yep," Daddy says trying not to grin too wide. "She can sleepover whenever she wants."

You stand, taking his hand again, smirking and Sarah wants to say more but then the mean wedding lady is there.

But Sarah doesn't care, because she's looking at Daddy kissing your head and all she can think is that she's so happy that her birthday wish came true.

///

"You're late," Abby snaps as she approaches the three of you. "And are those grass stains?"

She looks over your dress with distaste, holding your bouquet and Sarah's flower girl basket.

"Probably," you say giving her a level gaze. "Had to kick the shit out of someone before I got here."

You wince only when you realize Sarah might have heard that. But she looks distracted by the basket.

Joel gives you a surprised look that matches Abby's. Abby thrusts the bouquet into your arms and murmurs an order of going to the barn as she hands Sarah the basket.

You hold the bouquet at waist level, turning to Joel with an expectant look. He offers his arm and you take it. Sarah goes dashing excitedly ahead and you follow as Joel gives you a curious look.

"Do I wanna know?"

"I'll tell you about it sometime," you with a wink. "Maybe."

You never will though, because if Joel knew half of what Paul did there would be a fine dusting of Paul scattered all over his new apartment in Leander. Your eyes scan for Maria and Tommy.

"Did I tell you how gorgeous you look?" Joel murmurs, distracting you.

"Bullshit," you bite back with a smile. "I look like a sad piece of lettuce."

"Well, I always liked eatin' my vegetables," Joel whispers back.

"Joel!"

You clap a hand over your mouth, holding in the bubble of laughter. You refuse to walk down this aisle collapsing into laughter again. You turn your head into his shoulder as you walk, hiding your laughter as Joel chuckles.

He feels his heart swelling as he looks down at you tucked up against him, face pink.

"I love you so fucking much," Joel whispers against the crown of your head. You look up, smiling bright.

"Ditto, Miller."

///

When the two of you walk down the aisle, you try not to be too obvious. This is Maria and Tommy's day. You make sure you don't look at each other; you don't graze hips as you walk, you don’t smirk. You simply link arms, walking at the right pace for the band.

Tommy is at the end of the aisle with a new haircut looking at you and Joel with an inscrutable look.

You've done well, you think. But then Joel gives everything away when you drop linked arms. Because instead of just walking in separate directions you feel his wide hand skate down your back, hitting your lower back, fingers curling before pulling slowly away, as if he can't stand not touching you.

Just that contact is enough to have goosebumps rising all over your body. You duck your head, unable to meet Tommy's gaze as you walk past him.

You stand across from one another on either side of the aisle, forcing yourself not to stare at one another.

But you feel Joel's eyes on you, and you relent, dragging your gaze from the sea of faces and over to him. From here you can see just how good Joel looks. Dark navy suit, tailored, crisp white shirt underneath. He looks so sexy you actually have to force yourself to look away.

You feel eyes on you and you glance over to see Frank smiling up at you in the crowd. You feel your face pink as he shoots you a waggle of his eyebrows. Bill isn't watching you, his eyes are on Joel.

Maybe Frank isn't the only one to think your boyfriend is cute.

Your boyfriend. Joel is your boyfriend.

It seems like everything and yet not enough.

Then the sound of the band starts up again and you both quickly look up to see Sarah with a serious look on her face. With amusement you watch as she delicately takes one petal from the basket, crouches and places it on the aisle runner atop the grass. She does this with the next petal. . . And the next one. . . Moving an inch at a time.

You see Joel giving a smirk accompanied by a wince as the crowd titters. At this rate you're all going to be here for hours. Inspired you call out to her over the music.

"Make it colorful, bug."

She seems to understand, her face breaking into a wide smile. She nods, thrusting her hand into the basket and tossing handfuls of colorful petals into the air, moving quickly down the aisle.

The crowd cheers as you and Joel laugh, watching her dance down the aisle tossing the flower remnants in every direction. Finally she reaches the end of the aisle, looking up to you expectantly.

"Was I good?"

"The best.”

Maria enters on her father's arm. You can see Sheila crying in the front row, blowing her nose as you hold in a giggle at this.

Maria is ethereal. The dress made for her. Ethereal isn't even enough to describe how angelic she looks in the off-white dress that clings to her hips and dances down over her knees. The sun is setting, casting everyone in the golden hue of the day. It feels magical.

She double winks at you as she nears the end of the aisle and you return it. A code from your club days.

Two winks: you good?

Two winks back: I'm good.

She smiles and nods, handing you her large brides bouquet before turning to face Tommy who is staring at her in quite the same way Joel stares at you.

The Minister waits for the band to conclude the last strains of the song before he begins.

"Dearly beloved..."

///

You and Joel have done very well at keeping your hands to yourselves for the duration of the wedding. It was a bit difficult during wedding photos, but there were so many orders of where to stand and how to pose that you were both distracted.

It's easy during dinner because you're seated on either side of the couple at the head table. You're squished between Maria and an annoying cousin of hers that won't stop talking about her manicure.

Joel is next to Tommy with Sarah next to him, her tiny feet kicking the air as she eats her pasta.

The speeches are lovely with lots of laughter, lots of wine and lots of good food. The music is amazing as well, upbeat and fun and it gets the crowd dancing. When you look at the band you feel a little thrill go through you when you remember Joel singing to you.

You watch him now, Sarah's hands in his as they dance together. She's giggling and saying something that makes Joel laugh. In a motion as old as dance itself, Sarah's tiny feet are atop her father's and he shuffles them around the dance floor.

Bill and Frank are dancing, well, Bill is shuffling while Frank goes full out, arms in the air as he sings along with the vocalist.

Maria and Tommy are very good dancers, shockingly so. You love seeing the affection they have for one another, even when they're laughing and doing silly dances.

It's the slow dance that brings a halt to your plans of restraint. You sit at your table, falling more in love with Joel every second.

You watch him stride to your table, popping Sarah into her chair with the coloring book and crayons Maria made sure were there for the kids attending the wedding (she thinks of everything!) she happily goes back to the Disney princess she was coloring.

Then he's come to your chair and holds his large hand out to you.

"May I have this dance?"

As if you could refuse.

You beam up at him, taking his hand and letting him lead you to the dance floor. You admire the breath of his shoulders, the tapering of his waist. And he's all yours. Because you are never letting Joel Miller go.

Ever.

The song is slow and sweet. You glance over to see Maria and Tommy kissing gently before her head nestles in the crook of his neck.

You long to do the same with Joel, but you don't want to draw the extra attention.

Instead you try and remain stoic as Joel's hand spans your lower back. One of your hands goes to curl over Joel's shoulder, your free hands in clasped in one anothers.

You dance like this a while, trying so hard not to make it obvious that you're desperately in love with the man that holds you to him, swaying you gently to the music. You hear him gently humming the tune of the song under his breath.

Joel is trying his hardest not to stare at you, but it's impossible. He's wished for you so long that it still seems surreal that your here in his arms and your staying.* it makes his stomach twist pleasantly.

He looks down at you, mouth hitched in a boyish grin.

"So, you still like me?"

"Nah," you reply, your eyes dancing. "Pretty sure I'm in love with you."

"That's a relief," Joel murmurs, aching to kiss you. "Because I was thinking I'd like to marry you sometime pretty soon."

You feel your heart jump at this. Your entire body breaking out into a delicious shiver as Joel stares down at you.

"That's convenient," you reply just as smoothly. "Because I was thinking I'd really like to be your wife someday soon."

Joel grins widely, so handsome and so sexy that you feel overcome. The song ends and with reluctance you pull back. You can't go several more hours without feeling him against you. You tilt forward, dropping your voice.

"Outside. Five minutes."

Joel nods, pretending to part from you. You walk back from the dance floor on your way to grab a drink when you spot Bill making his way back from the drink station. You call him over.

"Thank you for earlier," you tell him, heart swelling. "Both you and Frank. I don't know what I would have done."

"Was nothing," Bill says shyly.

"It was everything," you correct gently. "But I think you know that."

Bill's shrugging. "Saw you arrived with the contractor."

Now it's your turn to give a shy shrug. "Yeah."

"You told him," Bill observes. There's no emotion in his voice, good or bad. You suppose because then he'd feel responsible one way or the other. But his eyes give everything away.

"Yeah."

"And?"

"I'm really glad I did."

The corner of Bill's mouth curls ever so slightly under his beard.

"Good."

You feel so much affection for Bill in this moment. Watching him stride over your lawn to protect you this morning. The advice he's given you. Baking cupcakes for Sarah. The way he's just there when you need him. Glowering or sullen yes, but he's there.

"Bill.... I just... My dad was never... I just wanna," you're stumbling over the words, trying to find them. To thank him for being the father you always wanted without even realizing. To thank him for his steady, calming presence even when it didn't come naturally to him.

And in a move you'll swear was a dream, Bill pulls you with one arm into his barrel chest. He holds you there tightly only a moment and releases you.

"You know we're always here if you need."

And then he's gone before you can say more, striding away from you and back to Frank who is deep in conversation with Sarah.

You're in a daze when you feel a hand glide over the small of your back. You watch as Joel moves past you and out into the warm night.

He glances back just before ducking around the corner, just long enough to give you a sultry wink that hits you so hard you actually stumble walking. Jesus, your entire body is thrumming. You need to get Joel back into bed as soon as possible. Maybe you won't ever leave it. There are worst fates.

You wait a few moments, trying to be discreet before you slip out from the loud party and outside. The cicadas reach you, the warm breeze dancing along your face as you step out the barn doors.

"Hey pretty lady," a deep voice sounds from your left. "You single by any chance?"

You turn, giggling when you see Joel leaning against the outer wall of the barn. His jacket is off, his white button down sleeves rolled to the elbows. He looks delicious.

"Nah I've got this big, strong boyfriend," you tease as you slink towards him. "And you better be careful ‘cuz he's got a real bad temper. He punched a guy in a McDonald's once."

Joel holds in a sharp laugh, reaching for you. "Yeah but he had it coming."

"Couldn't agree more," you nod, allowing Joel to pull you into his arms.

You go boneless against him as he kisses you, his hands on either side of your face. He pauses only when he feels you tense up, his large eyes scanning your face.

"What's the matter?"

"I'm scared at how good this feels," you confess to him without hesitation. "I've lived a whole life of waiting for the other shoe to drop. This feels too good. I'm too happy."

"You don't have anything to worry about," Joel promises you. "No shoe droppin' with the Millers. We take care of each other."

"I'm not a Miller."

"Just a formality," Joel assures you between kisses.

You grin through a watercolor blur and wrap your arms around his neck.

"I love you," you say against his jaw, just because you can say it. You get to say this to Joel anytime you want.

"Ditto."

Joel wedges a finger under your chin and tilts your face to him. He presses his mouth over yours once more. You sigh, arms wrapping around his neck. He's so wonderful.

His mouth finds yours again and again and your hips find his and before long he has you pressed against the barn with one of your thighs wrapped around his waist. His tongue is slipping slowly against yours as you whimper.

You can't help it; kissing Joel is like a drug and you always want more. Your hands are at his collar, his hands at your lower back pressing you into him.

"You gonna sleepover tonight?" Joel laughs, kissing you down your neck. The sleepover comment from earlier still amusing him.

"If you'll have me."

"Anytime," Joel promises, his body flush with yours against the side of the barn. "Need you in my bed as much as possible. Wanna take you there right now."

If Joel has it his way you'll never leave his bed again.

His kisses grow more insistent and he feels your body shuddering against his. Could you make it to his truck? Just for fifteen minutes?

"Save it for after the cake cutting, would ya?"

The two of you break apart sheepishly at the sound of Tommy's voice. You glance behind you to see Tommy and Maria smirking at you as they come through the back of the barn.

Joel feels Tommy's eyes on him, twinkling and merry. Joel's mouth twists into an embarrassed smirk.

"Shut the fuck up."

Tommy moves over to his brother, somehow seeming to know that you and Maria need a quick chat.

Maria's eyes are wet, and she's trying so hard not to grin too wide, for fear of creasing her very heavy wedding makeup.

You think back to all the times she tried to warn you off Paul, all the times she tried to push you to Joel and you feel your face crumple. You wrap your oldest friend in your arms.

"Maria, I'm so-"

"Don't you dare apologize," Maria tells you firmly, pulling you back so she can peer into your face, wiping the tears that have escaped down your cheek. "Not for this. Never."

"Okay," you nod, knowing that this is what your friendship is. No recriminations, no long-standing grudges. Just two friends who want to see the best for one another.

"I just wanted you to be happy," she says, eyes welling. "That's all I ever want for you."

"I am," you whisper, voice breaking. "I'm so fucking happy."

Sarah dashes over to you, wanting to show you and her aunt all the flowers from the tables she's collected into her flower girl basket. You hoist her onto your hip so you can all marvel at the colorful arrangements inside.

"Next time listen to me when I tell you something," Maria says with faux irritation over the basket. "I'm never wrong."

"Except when you tried to tell me I looked good in leather pants," you reason.

"I'll give you that one," Maria relents and you both dissolve into laughter. Despite having no idea what's so funny, Sarah joins in, one arm around your neck as she giggles.

At the sound the Miller men glance over at you with stars in their eyes. Tommy places a hand on his older brother's shoulder, shaking his head as if you're the silliest bunch he's ever laid eyes on.

"Well, that's our future, Joel."

"Yeah," Joel says, grinning at you as you catch his eye beaming.

"Yeah it is."

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