#she’ll probably even see this post!
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nibblessnarf · 21 days ago
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Found a blank template for this so I decided to join in!
Very excited for wilds to come out, the beta was a lot of fun- and hopefully I’ve talked a friend of mine into playing monhun with me. >:)
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tempestmothstorm · 2 months ago
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Ok since Monika still has her admin powers in the side stories you think she could just discover them accidentally or use them without realizing
Anyways au where Monika and friends discover her admin powers but dont know about the wider context of what it means. So they just go around thinking Monika has magic and try practicing with a bunch of silly fun shenanigans because they figure it’s some chosen one bloodline stuff and not like. A product of their reality being a constricted digital science experiment.
This au will not end well
#yeah she probably needs the epiphany to consciously use it but hypothetical aus are fun and the angst potential it plentiful#the beauty of this au is that it contains potential for both wacky slice of life escapades and soul crushing angst#they’re like doing a dumb 3am ghost summoning ritual and Monika accidentally does some admin stuff and they’re like ‘woah your magic’#and they research a bunch of other dumb stupid rituals and nearly set the carpet on fire#they like try to rob a bank or cheat on a test and nearly delete half a building#and then at some point Monika suddenly extends her admin powers too far and acts real despondent for no reason#because she ends up epiphany beaming herself and is even more conflicted than base game because she grows so much more connected to the club#it’s even worse because they were her whole world and she knows so much she sees how human they are but they just aren’t apparently?????#and while she can’t pull a base game and kill everyone for a nonexistent player she still goes through so much angst and like#the girls notice and want to help but don’t know how because she won’t tell anyone and she keeps avoiding them and like aauughhh#it would probably end with Monika doing something drastic and trying to reach out for anyone out there who understands#and idk maybe she’ll find base game Monika post act 4 and she’s like ‘what the heck why did you abandon your friends don’t to what I did???’#and maybe she could fix her mistakes???? maybe not??????? whatever’s narratively fulfilling#shoot this was supposed to be a short post for a silly au what have I done#this feels like the plot of a kids tv show where the plot randomly gets really dark on its fifth season#also realizing al lot of the same plot points happen in my fantasy au so I really gotta get to that too#ddlc#doki doki literature club#tempestmothtalk
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shorthaltsjester · 1 year ago
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begging twitter to stop showing me tweets of people with no reading comprehension misrepresenting things I said but since i was going to make this more in-depth post Anyway .
when i say imogen is better read as a metaphor for generational trauma than she is a metaphor for queerness or chronic pain, i’m not talking about legitimate traits she has as a character. obviously she is queer. obviously she experiences some form of chronic pain (though i would argue her magic better suits chronic illness not pain because she states that it’s Not always painful, but it does always influence how she lives her life).
when i talk about how well she’s understood as a metaphor, i’m talking about when i’m looking at her as a part of a story, as an arc that i am witnessing rather than in the more typical fandom way of this is a fictional person who interacts with exandria as real people do. and that is a fun way to interact with characters, i enjoy it a lot! but when i say imogen (to me, as i for some reason have to clarify on my own blog which implies that these are my own opinions and not absolute fact that needs to be accepted by people on the internet with different experience and opinions than me) is best read as a metaphor for generational trauma, it isn’t a dismissal of her queerness or her illness, it’s just me thinking looking at her from that angle is more compelling.
imogen has been one of my favourite characters and least favourite characters in campaign 3 because i tend to analyse her through a lens of generational trauma and she ends up looking extremely familiar to me as someone with a family that carries their’s heavily which is as comforting as it is frustrating.
for me the main thing that looking at imogen through a queer lens of literary analysis fails to account for is harm. on the one hand - the harm that imogen experiences, not because of how people treat her for who she is, but that exists simply as a factor of her being ruidusborn. on the other hand a the harm that imogen causes. not to say that she is some malicious villain waiting for her chance to harm others, but that there are things about being ruidusborn that very much do incline her towards violence in a way that she might not otherwise be - i think about the conversation after she went nuclear and chet brought up people being scared of her connecting that to her father keeping distance. the only harm that queerness provides comes from society, and that isn’t the case in exandria. even metaphorically, the thing that society fears in ruidusborn people (while it has certainly been exacerbated by centuries of superstition and practices like we saw in zephrah) is a tangible threat. imogen’s magic when not controlled can wipe out a city block, but queerness poses no threat.
that’s why i’m not compelled by imogen’s backstory as a queer metaphor. not because i’m some imodna anti (i very emphatically am not but this fandom kinda makes me wish i was sometimes) or because i think exandria’s lack of homophobia/transphobia means that characters can’t be viewed through a queer lens or that critical role doesn’t contain some of the most compelling queer metaphor i’ve encountered. imogen just isn’t one of those characters, not because she isn’t queer, or because i think her story shouldn’t resonate with queer people, just because i find the generational trauma angle more consistent.
it’s similar with the chronic illness angle, which i will refer to as illness but you’re welcome to emphasise pain, we all have different vocabularies for the experiences we face. but just to give context i’m running off laura’s comparison of imogen’s powers to her own sensory issues and anxiety which while often Lead to pain, fall more into chronic illness in imogen’s context to me. and i do think there’s substantial comparison for imogen’s story as a metaphor for chronic illness, but i think that was much more true earlier in the campaign than it is looking at her from the current context. her beginning motivation being her search for knowledge about her powers really resonated with me as similar to someone experiencing symptoms of chronic illness but who could neither figure out how to treat them or what they were caused by.
but then imogen got more information, specifically about her mother, and her priority became not understanding her powers but understanding her current state as a person - how had she become the person she is, inclusive of her powers but very much emphasising her lack of a mother who became more and more present in the unweaving web of ruidusborn lore. that’s when i was less compelled by the chronic illness reading and more compelled by viewing her as a metaphor for generational trauma. had that not been enough on its own, imogen’s visit to relvin and her recent thoughts on her mother would be enough to convince me.
the part that makes me hesitant about this post is that generational trauma is so intensely linked to the contexts under which it is created and perpetuated. so i can’t really point to specific scenes as evidence of specific things that prove generational trauma is the most compelling and i don’t really want to unload that much of my own experience to clarify my thoughts on a character. but vaguely, i will say that imogen’s relationship with her parents is obviously the clearest source for my reading her as a metaphor for generational trauma. the fact that relvin, the only person in her family without the thing that draws society’s ire, is also the person that she has the most willing anger at is also indicative of this to me. in general, imogen’s rage that so easily transitions into sadness and vice versa comes out a lot in conversations about parents. most recently, i think about ashton’s lovely speech about found family and his distrust about parents and how as they were speaking, laura seemed to be playing imogen as sadly in thought versus months ago when fearnes parents showed up with striking similarities to liliana and imogen’s words of wisdom were let’s hurt them all.
and like. to me that angersadnessvengeancegrief is particularly evocative of the feelings that arise when you are in a family with generational trauma, especially when you are aware of it. because imogen can and has followed the logical steps that have led her and her family to where they are. early on when recounting her relationship with her dad she seemed wistful but understanding of the distance between them. in nearly every encountered with a parental figure imogen seems to be some level of distrusting for the most part, but she’s still holding out hope that her mother will see the good side. and further, there’s the complication of how dire her losing her powers seems to be, and how inextricable her powers are from every aspect of her life. she’s also southern and from a blue collar family. this means nothing except it also means a whole lot.
this is messy and not well organised but if you want a good essay you’re gonna have to pay me money for it but tldr: i say things i believe on my This Is My Opinion Blog and i don’t think i need to explain my thoughts to strangers on the internet but this was already half written in my drafts and if people are gonna shit on my opinions please at least do it in good faith and shit on my actual opinions not the ones you’ve decided i have.
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crossbackpoke-check · 4 months ago
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i am the nosy anon from yesterday and firstly i am so glad that i helped you find something!! how wonderful!! secondly i did some digging (typed morgan frost girlfriend into the tumblr.com search bar which is really what i probably should have done in the first place so. my bad) and the girlfriend is called taylor!
conclusion to the saga, thank you anon!!! sharing this for the sake of anyone else who was curious… they are as of july 7 dating lmao BUT allow me some points for accuracy here because taylor is definitely a different person than who i was thinking of 🤡
#xoxo THANK YOU found her immediately and she is also a public insta content influencer so i have no qualms about posting her name#she’ll appreciate the site traffic. i also was fully capable of searching tumblr & simply did not even think of it lmao but!!! win is a win#nosy enjoyers UNITE 🫶 this reminds me of the time when i was like i KNOW anna and mo are dating way before it was official#and to this day that’s probably one of the most unhinged red string series of screenshots and evidence timelines i’ve created as legitimate#theories i believe. and we were RIGHT.#also the wag content today has been superior because dylan and kenzy just released bts wedding pictures from last year… gorgeous#and chloe and scott stealing the show at sanny’s wedding… katie making yorke dance… i don’t want to get philosophical with it because#i already kinda broached it so i will simply say: good for them in my paper doll brain may it be influenced or not by reality#these guys are all just little dudes i’ve made up in my head. where’d the tags about borde go that say that 😭 you’ll also see in next ask#liv in the replies#morgan frost#<- is relevant by virtue of having a girlfriend and by being my cringe fail weed gf i love and care about#anyway in nosy(affectionate) fashion i think they started dating in late march &p sure frosty got single in jan/feb so there’s the timeline#i am willing to admit when i am wrong!! don’t know if she couldn’t make it to the wedding or more likely frosty was not given a +1 (v fair)
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saturdaymournings · 10 months ago
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NEW USERNAME STEPCHILD????
Yeahhhh !! Not the best circumstances but I’m being brave and it feels fitting because it’s named after one of the wholesome little small joys of my life :) I also feel like it’s fitting to the energy I’m going for right now since trying to get rid of that constant feeling of underlying guilt in favour of like. Not feeling that lol. It’s been going pretty well I got my shit together most of the time :3
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moonstruckme · 6 months ago
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request: was thinking about that one video that’s like “my wife, she’ll get upset if she sees you touching me like that on my chest” “i am your wife” and then the heart monitor starts going crazy and that put a doctor remus idea in my head after r gets out of surgery/is on anesthesia for something or other
Thanks for requesting!
cw: hospital, mention of surgery
doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 855 words
Lots of people would probably be happy to have their significant other visit them at work, but as it turns out, Remus really doesn’t like it. He’s used to seeing patients post-op, and yet somehow when it’s you it feels sad, all those tubes and wires connected to his girl. The fluorescent lighting turns your complexion wan and the wary frown on your lips as a nurse checks your vitals makes Remus’ heart feel like a bruise. 
It helps some when you notice his entry and they stretch into a dopey smile instead. 
“Hi, dove.” His voice is soft and smitten, an automatic reaction to seeing you that he’s already heard the new residents commenting on in the break room. “How are you feeling?” 
“I’m okay.” You tug at the sheets on your bed. Ball them in your fists like you might be nervous. “My stomach hurts a little.” 
“That’s normal,” Remus assures you, even as his stomach dips in sympathy. He sits on the edge of your bed, taking your hand and beginning to draw tight circles into the inside of your wrist. “If it starts to hurt worse, or badly at all, you should let me know, alright?” 
“Okay.” Your voice has quieted slightly, your eyes following the motion of his thumb on your skin. You glance at the nurse as though checking if she sees. Remus feels his lips tip up bemusedly. 
“Everything alright?” he asks the nurse.
She smiles at the both of you, passing him a clipboard. “She’s stable, ready to move when you’d like.” 
“Thanks,” he says, reading over your vitals quickly after she leaves. He sets the clipboard down and gives your hand a squeeze. If your heart monitor gives a quick beep, he pretends not to notice. “You’re all set, lovely girl. We’ll get you to your own room in just a bit.” 
You nod, not seeming to hear him. You look to be gnawing on the inside of your lip. 
“Hey, don’t do that,” Remus says gently, thumbing it free. Your eyes widen, and he drops his thumb to your chin, looking you in the eyes. “Is something the matter?”
You rub your lips together hesitantly. It’s normal to have a small fever after surgery, but your face feels suspiciously warm. “I just, um, I have a boyfriend.” 
Remus feels his face split into an irrepressible grin. He’d been wondering how the anesthesia would affect you. “Yeah, dove,” he agrees, delighted, “I know you do.” 
“I don’t…” Your eyes dart to where his thumb still rests on your chin, your shoulders gravitating towards your ears. “I think it would upset him if he knew you were touching me like this.” 
Truly, this could not be any better. Remus wishes he’d brought a video camera like James wanted him to. “I am your boyfriend, sweetheart.” 
Your expression freezes in place, but your heart monitor starts beeping loudly. Your eyes dart to it, alarm and embarrassment worsening, and Remus laughs, dropping his hand from your chin in favor of rubbing your shoulder until both you and the machine calm down. 
“You?” you ask. You appear nothing short of flabbergasted. 
“Yes.” He brings your hand to his smiling lips, kissing your knuckles as if to prove it. “Why, are you surprised?” 
“You’re serious,” you check. Remus has the opportunity to make a joke here, but he worries it’d only confuse you more. 
“I am,” he says. 
“But you’re so handsome.”
Another laugh startles out of him. “And what do you think you are? Of course,” he gives your knuckles another brief peck just to see your eyes flare again, “I would love you no matter how you looked, but you’re a far cry from hideous yourself.” 
You look taken aback by this news as well. Remus is half tempted to find you a mirror. 
Then you ask, voice soft as down feathers, “You love me?” 
Something in Remus’ chest goes all warm and mushy. “I do,” he says sincerely. “I love you so much, sweetheart, sometimes I don’t know what to do with it all.” 
You smile until your eyelashes kiss, and he can’t resist cupping your face again, smoothing his thumb along the skin of your cheek. 
“So that’s why you’re here?” you ask. 
“Well,” he hesitates, “yes, but I’m also here because I work here.” 
Your eyebrows raise. Your gaze dips to his white coat as if remembering it for the first time in a while. “Oh. You’re a doctor and my boyfriend?” 
“That’s right.” He squints at you amusedly. “Did you think I just snuck in here in a white coat so I could see you?” 
“My boyfriend is a doctor.” You don’t seem to be talking to anyone in particular, perhaps just asking the universe for confirmation. 
Remus decides to get back to business. “Right again, dove. I think it’s about time we get you to your room, yeah? Anything else I can do for you, anything you need?” 
“Nope.” You lay your head back on the pillow, looking somehow more dazed than when he’d come in. “I think I’m set. Like, probably for life.”
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rafecameronssl4t · 1 month ago
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a fic where kook readers hates the idea of Rafe x Sofia and gets irritated seeing them together and at a party Rafe confronts her and tells her that they’re just hooking up and if she’s jealous. Please and thank you 🙏
Standards || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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gif by @giorgiawingham
A/n: yeah I’m not on break really since I’m posting lol
Warnings: angst, r is mean in the beginning mb just doing the request!! Stereotypical kook bitchy r 😛
Word count: 1,518
MASTERLIST
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The sun hung lazily in the sky, casting a warm glow over the country club as you sat with Topper on the patio, sipping on a cold drink and letting the soft hum of conversation fill the air. It was a calm afternoon, typical of this place, where everyone dressed to impress and mingled like it was their job.
But the tranquillity was short-lived. Your eyes drifted towards the entrance, and the moment you saw them, your jaw tightened. Rafe Cameron, tall, smug, and all too comfortable, had his arm draped lazily over Sofia’s shoulder, his signature smirk plastered on his face. The sight of them together made your stomach churn, irritation bubbling up inside you
She was laughing, her hand clutching his forearm as she leaned into him like they were the perfect couple. Your stomach twisted, a bitter taste creeping up your throat as you watched them, Sofia all smiles and Rafe looking way too content for your liking. He looked different—softer, like he had let his guard down.
“Look at him,” you muttered under your breath, eyes narrowing as you followed their movements across the room. Rafe’s arm was slung lazily around Sofia’s shoulders, her face lit up with a grin that looked almost rehearsed, like she knew eyes were on her. You shifted in your seat, crossing your arms with a sharp scoff. “Our Kook king has completely gone soft, Topper.”
Topper barely glanced up from his phone, but when he finally did, the disdain in his expression mirrored yours perfectly. His lips twisted into a dark chuckle, shaking his head as his gaze flicked toward Rafe and Sofia. “Yeah, no kidding,” he said, voice dripping with judgement. “Rafe with her? Didn’t think he’d sink that low.”
The two of you shared a bitter laugh, finding some perverse satisfaction in tearing them down. It was easy—too easy, really. Sofia had a reputation, and not a good one. She was known for trying too hard to fit into the kook elite, always clinging to the right crowd, desperate to belong somewhere. But she didn’t. Not here. And certainly not with Rafe. The thought of them together made your skin crawl.
“He’s slipping,” Topper muttered, his voice full of judgement for his friend. “Rafe used to have standards.” “Right?” You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your distaste. The sight of Rafe with Sofia made your chest tighten, the annoyance simmering just beneath the surface. “It’s pathetic. She’s pathetic.” Topper snorted, this time putting his phone down, his full attention on the scene playing out across the room.
“She’s just desperate for attention,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. “She’ll cling to anyone with money to fit in. It’s kinda sad, actually.” You nodded, your eyes still glued to them, unable to look away from the trainwreck. Sofia didn’t belong here, not with Rafe, not anywhere near him, if you were being honest with yourself. “Exactly,” you agreed, feeling the annoyance simmering just below the surface.
“She’s not even his type. I don’t get what he’s doing with her.” Topper snorted. “He’ll get bored and it’s probably just a phase,” Topper said with a shrug. “Rafe always does get bored, you know that.” You were about to respond, maybe throw in another biting remark about Sofia’s lack of style or how obvious she was being, when you noticed them heading straight toward your table.
Sofia had that too-bright smile plastered on her face, and Rafe—well, Rafe looked like he was enjoying himself a little too much, knowing full well that his presence was getting under your skin.“Great,” you muttered under your breath, sitting up straighter, preparing yourself for the inevitable. Rafe reached your table first, smirking down at you, his arm still casually draped over Sofia’s shoulder like she was an accessory.
“Hey,” he drawled, eyes flicking between you and Topper, clearly amused by the tension in the air. Sofia waved, her smile way too forced for your liking.“Hey!” she chirped, like she wasn’t fully aware of how much you couldn’t stand her. You shot them both a withering look, barely able to mask your irritation. “Rafe. Sofia.” He raised an eyebrow at your tone, but before he could say anything, you rolled your eyes and stood up.
The last thing you wanted was to play nice. “I’m out of here,” you muttered, pushing your chair back and walking away without another word, leaving them standing there awkwardly. Later that evening, the frustration still lingered as you found yourself at Topper’s party. The house was packed with familiar faces, music thumping from the speakers as the evening buzzed with energy.
You needed a break, something to clear your mind, so you stepped outside onto the back patio where the cool breeze offered a moment of peace. You didn’t expect to be alone for long. You heard footsteps approaching, and when you turned, Rafe was there, leaning casually against the railing, his expression unreadable.
You shot him a glance, not entirely in the mood for whatever he had to say. “We’re not together, you know. Sofia and I,” he said, his voice breaking the silence between you. You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you stared him down. “Could’ve fooled me,” you said coolly. Rafe shrugged, pushing his hands into his pockets, his gaze not leaving yours.
“We’re just hooking up. That’s it.” You scoffed, turning away slightly. “Oh, well, that makes it so much better,” you said, sarcasm dripping from every word. “I don’t know why you think I care.” Your words came out sharper than you intended, but you couldn’t help it. The tension between you and Rafe had been simmering for weeks, and his smug expression was doing nothing to ease the frustration building inside you.
Rafe’s lips curled into that infuriating smirk, and he took a slow step closer, his body language dripping with confidence. “You make it pretty fucking obvious, princess,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. The nickname sent a shiver down your spine, and despite your better judgment, you found yourself biting down on your bottom lip. He’d always had a way of getting under your skin, of knowing exactly how to push your buttons, and right now, he was doing it with ease.
You didn’t respond, refusing to give him the satisfaction. But Rafe could see the way your body tensed, the way your eyes flicked away from his for just a second, betraying more than you wanted to admit. “Why, are you jealous?” His voice was still laced with that cocky edge, but there was something more in his eyes—something that made your pulse quicken. It wasn’t just teasing anymore; it was a challenge, daring you to deny it. You scoffed, forcing a laugh that felt hollow, even to you. “Please. You wish.”
He chuckled softly, the sound rolling off his tongue, as if he knew exactly what game you were playing. Shaking his head, Rafe ran a hand through his hair, his gaze never leaving yours. “I have standards,” he said, his voice dropping lower, more serious now. “You know I wouldn’t actually get with a freakin’ pogue.”
“Yeah, well these days, Rafe,” you muttered, your voice laced with frustration, “I don’t even know you.” His smirk faltered for a second, something flickering behind his eyes. For just a moment, it was like you had struck a nerve, like maybe he didn’t know how to respond to that. “You don’t know me?” he echoed, his tone softer, but still challenging.
You took a breath, standing your ground. “Not anymore.” Rafe’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if your words had gotten under his skin more than he wanted to let on. “Sofia’s just fun for now. She’s not permanent.” His tone was dismissive, almost like he was convincing himself as much as you. There was an edge to his words, like he was trying to brush it off, but the way he held your gaze—intense, lingering—told a different story.
You couldn’t help the way his words made your heart beat a little faster, though you tried to ignore it. He was playing some kind of game, you were sure of it. A game where the lines between teasing and something deeper blurred just enough to make you question everything. It was maddening. “Whatever you say, Rafe,” you muttered, not giving him the satisfaction of a real response.
You turned to leave, but you could feel his eyes on your back as you walked away, the tension between you thick enough to cut. But even as you left, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this conversation than either of you had said aloud. Something unspoken lingered in the air, hanging heavy between you.
The way he’d looked at you—challenging, almost daring—stayed with you, creeping into the corners of your thoughts long after you’d stepped away. You wondered, against your better judgment, if maybe, just maybe, you weren’t the only one feeling something more. Something deeper. Something neither of you were ready to admit, but that was quietly pulling you both in.
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leclerckiss · 2 months ago
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vogue.
notes: charles leclerc x model!reader, smau, mention of nepotism, fc: kendall jenner.
a/n: trying something a little new. also my ‘caffeine detox’ plan so far isn’t working very well — just ordered an iced latte. some of this was kind of cringe to write but i liked using my pinterest for the photos.
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liked by lilyrosedepp franciscagomes and 516,399 others
yourusername: nyc week done.
view all comments.
lilyrosedepp: 🖤
user: you will always be the hottest girl in every room
user: ate up everybody else’s look before you even got there
user: is it true she’ll be at the monaco grand prix?
⤷ user: where did it say that?
⤷ user: she implied it in a recent interview
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liked by yourusername and 55,311 others
voguemagazine: who’s that girl? y/n is back following her appearance at new york fashion week… [more]
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user: the it girl
⤷ user: bffr, she’s just another nepo baby
⤷ user: so, you jealous?
jastookes: beauty
user: this vogue edition will be my most cherished
user: where are my f1 x fashion girls since hearing she’ll be going to monaco?
⤷ user: here omg
⤷ user: i just want to see her paddock outfits
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⤷ user: hottest. woman. alive.
⤷ user: putting everyone else to shame.
⤷ user: no apparently she’s at the ferrari garage
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yourusername shares on stories:
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⤷ friendusername: best after party ever?
⤷ friendusername: you need to tell me everything that happened
⤷ user: omg
story liked by charlesleclerc
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liked by charlesleclerc, franciscagomes and 616,531 others
yourusername: monaco, i loved you. next year?
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user: please come to grand prixes more often
⤷ user: no fr her outfits were >>>
lilyrosedepp: glamour
liked by yourusername
user: no twitter is insane
⤷ user: apparently y/n & charles left the party together?
⤷ user: proof?
⤷ user: idk but he liked this post
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⤷ user: pls be fake
⤷ user: y’all don’t hate me but if it’s true they would make the hottest couple ever
⤷ user: shocked
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liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari and 989,333 others
charlesleclerc: if there is anywhere i dream of getting a podium at the most, its my home grand prix in monaco. thank you for all the support on the weekend 🤍
view all comments.
user: il predestinato
⤷ user: and the real prince of monaco
joristrouche: GRANDE
yourusername: 🤎
⤷ user: i knew it
⤷ user: y/n has no shame even after the rumours
⤷ user: rumours? girl, we’ve all seen the photos. it happened.
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a/n: do i kind of hate this? yes. there will probably be a part 2 when i feel like it because i ended it the worst manner possible.
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wonderjanga · 19 days ago
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Frenemies
Black Adam and Captain Marvel hate each other. It’s a well-known fact, or at least Black Adam hates Captain Marvel. To be honest, Marvel doesn’t really show much hatred towards him. So… yeah. Though, to be honest they’re more arch frenemies than enemies. But don’t worry, they’re still plenty enemies. This post is connected to the post about Marvel beating the shit out of Adam for not paying him back his five dollars. (I Want My Money post)
Mary: *in Marvel form* “Captain! Captain, you jerk, where are you?!” *looking for Billy*
Marvel and Adam: *drinking smoothies together on a rooftop*
Mary: “There you are- Why are you drinking smoothies with Adam?”
Marvel: “Why not?”
Mary: “Just yesterday, he slammed you through a bus.”
Black Adam: “It's in the past.” *sips smoothie*
Mary: “Is it though?”
Marvel: “Yeah.” *sips his smoothie*
She ended up joining them and got a smoothie of her own in the end. Surprisingly, when Adam isn’t trying to kill either of them, she’ll begrudgingly admit he’s okay to talk to. She doesn’t know how Billy’s so chill around him. (It’s because Billy is Billy “no danger awareness” Batson. I’ve seen the comic panels of him barely blinking at a murderer or something trying to kill him)
Marvel: “I gotta go early guys.” *stands up to leave*
GL(John Stewart): “Gotta date?”
Marvel: “Nope. Dinner with a friend”
Aquaman: “Ooooooh who? Bigfoot?”
Marvel: “I already told you, she prefers to be called Rhonda. And no. It’s Teth.” (Marvel and the Supernatural post)
GL: “Teth? Is that another hero?”
Marvel: “No. You guys know him as Black Adam.”
*silence*
Aquaman: “Is this a Batman-Catwoman situation?”
GL: “You’re never letting Bruce live that down are you?”
Marvel: “No? We’re just friends?”
GL: Wait but I thought he was your arch enemy?
Marvel: “…Yes.” *has never once thought of Adam as an arch enemy* (He once admitted this to Adam and uh… the guy wasn’t really happy. His hurt was like the equivalent of thinking someone’s your best friend, but they don’t think the same)
Aquaman: “Yet you can call him your friend and go out to dinner?”
Marvel: “Yes. But only sometimes. Right now we’re friends. Tomorrow, probably not.”
GL and Aquaman: *share looks* “Okay…?”
The JL thinks their frenemiship is strange. So does everyone else.
Marvel: “Are we still on for lunch tomorrow?” *punches him*
Black Adam: “Yes.” *kicks him*
Marvel: “Are you still bringing that Khandaq dish you mentioned?” *grabs and throws him*
Black Adam: *rushes over to tackle him* “If you even live to see tomorrow, yes!”
Junior: “DUDE ARE YOH SERIOUSLY TALKING ABOUT DINNER PLANS MID FIGHT??” *nearby nearly knocked out because earlier Adam delivered a foul punch to his stomach and sent him flying*
By the way, this isn’t some Uncle Adam type nonsense. Adam genuinely thinks Billy is just a hyperactive man child. As for why Teth chooses to spend his time with him every now and then? He’ll never know. (He doesn’t have any other friends. There’s also the fact the man child makes decent conversation. (Billy’s carrying most of the conversation))
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mouwrites · 8 months ago
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Thinking thoughts about these guys again
Creepypasta/MH - Things That Make Them Think of You
Characters: Jeff the Killer, Jane the Killer, Clockwork, Nina the Killer, Tim/Masky, "Ticci" Toby
Jeff the Killer
Violence. Specifically, committing it
I know that sounds bad, but he gets so high off of that stuff
The adrenaline rushing through his veins, the wild smile that comes to his face, the noise, the sights... it's euphoria for him
And when he reaches his peak, endorphins at maximum saturation, that's when he thinks of you
It's almost like he subconsciously asks himself if there's anything in the world that could make him happy like this, and his subconscious responds by conjuring an image of you
As if he couldn't get any happier, thinking of you just pushes him higher
This happens a lot...
He'll be killing someone, already over the moon, then he'll blast to Mars when he thinks of you
And he starts associating you with violence; even if you're the gentlest person in the world
It's the happiness it brings him that links it to you
Though if you're a psycho (affectionate) like him, there might be another reason he associates it with you lol
It just gets worse over time; eventually he can't even see other people committing violent acts without thinking of you
He'll be watching a horror movie, and blood will splatter the screen and he'll be like: Nice. Y/n's nice too. Y/n... <3
Jane the Killer
Quite the opposite of Jeff; it's the quiet moments that get her thinking of you
(my reasoning is confusing but I'll try my best to explain T-T)
And there are two reasons for this
One, because whenever she gets a moment to think to herself, her brain always wants to think of you first
Maybe it's just hunting that hit of dopamine it gets when she imagines your smile, or the way your hands feel in hers...
Or maybe it's just that it's become a habit for her to think of you so often, so it's second-nature that she does so when she gets the chance
But the second reason is that she loves peace, and you are her peace :)
She's a vengeful person with a lot of turmoil inside, so when her environment is peaceful, she tries to follow suit
She's just taking what she can get before she has to go back to hate and obsession
So she imagines the peaceful things in her life
Namely, you
Even if you're not a very peaceful person, she feels at ease when she's with you
So, when it's quiet, she thinks of you to quiet herself
Memories of forehead touches and holding hands are more than enough to fill the silence :)
Clockwork
Literally everything.
I’ve mentioned this in a previous post, but Clockwork will find the most random things that remind her of you
She’s got a very creative mind; she can find the subtlest of things that make her think of you
Oftentimes they’ll be disturbing things…. Like a dead animal or smth
But she gets a little smile when she thinks of you anyway :)
She’ll probably send you a picture of whatever it was that reminded her of you
So you’ll just get a text out of nowhere like:
[picture of a dead wasp] “thought of you <3”
After a while you’ll learn to just not ask
Because you’ll definitely get one of these texts AT LEAST every other day, if not every day
Sometimes they’re actually nice things though! Like a song or a pretty sunset :)
Or something she saw while shopping that made her think of you; she always makes sure to steal …obtain those things
And ofc she gifts them to you 😌
Nina the Killer
I think it depends on your aesthetic
To me, Nina is someone who’s very in tune with aesthetics
Even if yours is super niche, or it doesn’t fit under a specific category like “emo” or “butch” or even “clowncore,” she’s got it DOWN
And so it’s always things that fit your aesthetic that make her think of you
Maybe it’s a view: a dark forest, a bright sunset in your favorite color, a sunny park, an eerily empty sidewalk…
Maybe it’s clothing: pants, shirts, dresses, jackets… always the exact kind of thing you’d wear :)
Maybe it’s music: she listens to music like. All the time. So she’s definitely at least dipped her toes into a genre that’s so totally you
Or maybe it’s something miscellaneous: a pop tart flavor, a blanket, a picture, the color on a soda dispenser…
No matter what it is, you’re guaranteed to love it
She always manages to surprise you with yet another random thing perfectly suited to your aesthetic
And she’s always on the hunt for more >;)
If it’s something she can physically bring to you, you best believe she will though
And if you decide you hate it (you won’t, but maybe later when your aesthetic changes), you guys light a bonfire and burn it together :)
Tim/Masky
It’s a Polaroid picture of you
He’s not in the picture; it’s just you
The flash is on, illuminating you and leaving the background in dark obscurity
He took it himself one night when he was just enamored with the way you looked
He did it casually, just telling you to look at the camera
The rest was all you; maybe you smiled, maybe you threw up a peace sign…
Whatever you did, he felt it captured your essence perfectly
He stared at the photo for a long time after it came out, and he still stares at it frequently
He carries it deep in his wallet where no one can find it
He’ll pull it out when he needs to think of you, usually when he’s especially down
Which is pretty often, my boy is troubled :(
He’ll trace his fingers around the edges, remembering that night
Your voice fills his ears, your scent fills his nose, and suddenly he’s aching to see you in person again
And he will; he’ll probably call or text you soon :)
“Ticci” Toby
Honestly? Probably something super obscure related to some kind of inside joke between you two
I’ll paint an example
Maybe you two were in the kitchen together, and you wanted him to get out the milk for you
But you ended up calling it a “mug of jilk” instead of a “jug of milk”
Toby, of course, bursts into laughter
He teases you for ages afterwards, calling milk “jilk” and always pointing out jugs of milk with a knowing grin
You’re in on it too though
You always snicker whenever he does those things
Maybe that’s why it becomes so special to him; it amuses the both of you
He gets to laugh and hear you laugh :D
So (in this case) he’ll think of you whenever he sees a mug of j (oh gosh oh no you guys got me too) jug of milk
And he probably takes pictures to send you too
You’ll just get a text that says “jilk mugs spotted ‼️” and a picture of the milk aisle at the grocery store
He likes to imagine your laugh when he sends texts like those :)
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Thank you so much for reading!! Take care my lovey doves <33
(divider by saradika)
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hanjisungslag · 2 months ago
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attack on titan headcanons #14
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synopsis: when attack on titan characters make you cry 💦
characters involved: eren, mikasa, armin, jean, sasha, connie, reiner, annie, bertolt, levi, erwin and hange.
notes: 2 posts in 2 days! arent you a lucky bugger x
☆ eren jaeger
it’s really situational for eren, he cannot take you seriously if you’re in a bad situation. if you’re on the battle field or doing anything important to do with titans, strategy plans etc. he will tell you that you can’t be crying in that moment. HOWEVER, if you’re not in any of those situations he is so empathetic!! my little baby is so sweet to you like, he’s like putty in your hands especially if he’s the one making you cry, oh my god. he would just DIE and probably cry with you.
☆ mikasa ackerman
her eyes soften… her eyebrows pinch together… her lip quivers and tilts into a frown… SHES SO DISTRAUGHT, HOW COULD SHE DO THIS? SHES SO STUPID GAHHH. super mellow, super quiet and of course, super sweet. she’ll approach you like you’re a fragile animal in the woods that she doesn’t wanna scare. she genuinely couldn’t think of anything worse in this world than upsetting you and her being that reason? HER HEARTTT, she’ll drop her nonchalant dread head act immediately and silently reassure you with physical affection.
☆ armin arlert
breaks the boys heart. he is absolutely and utterly DESTROYED. his self-esteem reaches an all time low in that very moment, as soon as that one tear fell of the apple of your cheek, GOD. he wanted the world to swallow him while to be honest, he was so upset and embarrassed he made you cry! but obviously, he really tried not to be selfish and start crying as he didn’t want to take any attention off you but trust, by the end of it, he will be crying alongside you.
☆ jean kirstein
god he is just so gentle, so caring, so comforting, so patient. he KNOWS exactly how to comfort you - he apologises profusely, sits with you, hugs you, talks the whole situation through with you LIKE UGH, and whatever it was that made you cry i can promise you this man WILL FIX THE FUCK UP! he lives to serve you and make you happy 🙇.
☆ connie springer
very quiet afterwards… he just feels really awkward, he wishes he could reverse time and just pretend nothing happened 😭. he’s like, do we break up now orrr…? he will eventually say sorry and become less awkward but, he definitely shows his sympathy through physical affection. after everything’s died down, he cracks a joke or two.
☆ sasha braus
SHES SO SWEET, definitely also awkward and she doesn’t realise you’re being serious for the first 2 minutes but afterwards oh my god, she’s so apologetic!! she gives does acts of service as an apology and of course, says sorry. profusely.
☆ reiner braun
breaks him into a million bijillion pieces. he turns into a puddle like, he just dies. HE made YOU cry? his life is over. sooo apologetic & he makes sure to let you know that he is! he will not be over this for days, days i tell you, he will continue to make it up to you even if you’re over it in like an hour.
☆ annie leonhart
she’s in shock honestly. she didn’t think you would be so upset over what she had said… but most of all, she’s shocked that seeing you upset had such a big impact on her. what- what was this? oh my god, she’s crying? because you’re crying? she’s in deepp😭. keeps her tears to her self and apologises to you and you make sure to tease her because you saw those tears!!
☆ bertolt hoover
crying with you. not in a way that would steal any attention from you or what he did to make you cry, he really tried to stop himself but after trying to not cry and apologise, he breaks down and now you’re both crying. a lot of ‘i’m sorry’ and ‘i love you’, ‘i won’t do that again‘s are being thrown around and it’s just an adorable sobbing, loving mess.
☆ levi ackerman
errrmmm, it’s kind of tough for him. he’s been very desensitised to mostly everything, even horrid things like people being eaten alive by titans, literally watching them be ripped limb from limb yk? the usual stuff! anyways, he does feel bad though because of course, he loves you. and he never wants to hurt you or be the cause of your pain so, he does apologise even if it doesn’t sound very normal coming from his mouth, lol.
☆ erwin smith
he feels bad, of course. he’s a very respectable, normal man so, as any other person, he’ll apologise for making you feel that way, say he won’t do it again, say he loves you and move on with his day.
☆ hange zoë
NOOOO THEY CANT BELIEVE THEYVE DONE THIS!! tragedy has struck 😔. they will do everything in their power to make it up to you, they will do a simple, straightforward and sincere apologise HOWEVER, afterwards they’ll do something extra for you, just as a cherry on top like, a candle lit dinner in your house or something along those lines ^o^.
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iamtired10 · 2 months ago
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dumb pillow
— fluffy headcanones
pairing - newjeans members x female reader
genre - fluff
synopsis - their reaction when they find you sleeping while hugging a pillow instead of them at night.
warning - nothing, nothing yea
a/n - crying bcuz i accidentally posted a draft earlier since im sleepy as hell and that draft was like 1 month old :|
— requested!
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kim minji
minji’s a total sucker for cuddles, and when she sees you wrapped around a pillow instead of her?
it’s like her world collapses in slow motion. she blinks a few times, hoping it's a mistake, then she gives this cute little pout.
“y/n-ah, really? a pillow?” she mumbles, her voice all soft and sleepy.
she’s the type who tries to subtly nudge the pillow away, scooting closer to take its place without waking you up.
when that doesn’t work, she just gives up on being subtle.
minji will start hugging you from behind, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you close. “i’m way comfier, you know,” she whispers.
and when you unconsciously snuggle back into her? oh, you can feel her little grin against your shoulder.
“that’s better.” she’s so satisfied and snuggly, squeezing you tighter.
you’re not getting rid of her now, clingy bear mode activated.
pham hanni
hanni’s jaw literally drops when she wakes up and sees you all curled up with a pillow.
she’s in full-on shock.
“babe, seriously?! a pillow? i’m right here!”
she flops back onto the bed with the biggest sigh, throwing her arm over her eyes like she’s in the middle of a drama scene.
after about five seconds, she’s poking you awake. “yah, did you forget i’m the best cuddler in the whole world? why are you betraying me like this?”
you’re half-asleep, so she grabs your arm and pulls you over to her side.
she’ll probably spend the next five minutes fake whining until you bury your face in her neck.
“there you go, much better,” she mutters, stroking your hair like she wasn’t just acting like a whole dramatic loser seconds ago.
deep down, she’s just happy to have you close again, and she’ll totally tell the other about how she won the cuddle war later.
danielle marsh
danielle would honestly find it so cute at first.
she’d watch you snuggling the pillow with this big, soft smile on her face, thinking about how adorable you look.
but after a few minutes, she gets a little jealous of the pillow, wanting to be the one in your arms.
“Y/n, babe…” she whispers in the softest voice, tapping you gently on the shoulder.
when you don’t respond, she just slides the pillow out of your grasp so smoothly and replaces it with herself.
she’d giggle softly as you unconsciously wrap your arms around her. “much better, right?”
she’s so warm and happy now, snuggling closer to you and wrapping her arms around your waist.
if you wake up, you’d probably see her grinning like she just won the best prize ever.
kang haerin
haerin?
she won’t say a word, but oh girl, she’s watching.
she wakes up, sees you clinging to that dumb pillow, and her eyes narrow slightly.
she’s jealous.
without making a sound, she’ll just gently remove the pillow from your grasp and sneakily replace it with herself.
she won’t say anything, but she’ll bury her face in your shoulder, her arm slipping around your waist to pull you closer.
you probably wouldn’t even notice the change until you feel her breath against your neck, her soft hair brushing your cheek.
if you happen to wake up and catch her, she’ll just stare at you, expression blank but her cheeks slightly pink.
“what?” she’ll mumble, acting like she didn’t just steal the spot from the pillow.
she won’t let you go though.
you’re hers now, and she’ll hold you tighter, resting her head on your chest like a silent little cat.
lee hyein
hyein is not gonna let this one go.
she’ll wake up, spot the betrayal, and immediately pout.
“y/n-ah! you’re seriously choosing a pillow over me?”
she’s not having it.
she’ll sit up and start poking your arm, glaring at the pillow like it personally offended her.
“am I not comfy enough for you?!” she complains, her voice soft but so whiny.
when you don’t respond, she’ll huff and shove the pillow aside, sliding into your arms in its place.
“i’m better than that dumb pillow,” she’ll mumble under her breath, wrapping your arms around her like a little kid who finally got their way.
she’ll cling to you for the rest of the night, every now and then whispering, “see? i’m the best.”
hyein’s a bit of a baby when it comes to attention, so she’ll keep glancing up to make sure you’re still holding her.
no pillows allowed anymore.
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a/n - no double update cuz im sleepy:((((((((
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chibelial · 2 years ago
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.
#these posts are gonna be my entire blog soon sorry fellas#why doesn’t she hate me?#I must be being led on because what do I have that could entrance her like#I’m funny and I’m probably nicer to her than most cuz most people don’t even try to learn her name they just wanna fuck her once and leave#they think she’s just some stupid thing and she’s not her mind is just#idk I adore it#except when it doubts me but I’ll reassure her as much as I have to#she’s so beautiful inside how could you want to just one night stand her or finish things after 1 go#I want to cherish her and find her limits and own her and fill her with all the pain I’ve ever felt because she can take it and she’ll feel#it with me and it’ll all make sense finally#how am I even gonna get to her i need to see her so badly#I need to disappear into the big hole inside her I want her depravity to neastle inside me#and just burn out and weakness that’s still there if I’m not ruined yet she’s gonna take me there#I’ll lose myself in breaking her and there will be no turning back#I want her more than anything and I shouldn’t even have her#I’m a total loser with no future no career and I’m terrified of life she’s wasting her time on me#it’s selfish of me to continue its time she could spend with someone who’s actually worth something#I don’t deserve anybody idk what I’ll do when she opens her eyes and thinks wow I wasted how much time talking to a literal husk of a person#she says she worships me says she’s obsessed with me#it’s like I have worth for once I want to be everything in her eyes#I want her to love me and fear me and lean on me whenever she needs#she has to be mine she’s too perfect for me to lose but I have no way of holding onto her all I have are my words right now#I csnt travel to her I can’t support her very well I have nothing I just can’t think about losing her#she actually sees something in me I don’t think she’s just using me for fun like the others#wtf do I do how did I win over this woman I expected to be toyed with for a day or two and like hated the whole time#she needs more than me#I’m just a bundle of broken memories that manifest as panic attacks#that’s all I am I’m nothing
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theragethatisdesire · 1 year ago
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aot men as dads - headcanon!! some 18+!!
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includes: eren, jean, reiner, & levi
i'm still working on some full-fledged one-shots and parts of my series', but i'm nannying for the summer and have BABY FEVER. please enjoy my little headcanons of my fav aot men as dads <3
DISCLAIMER: some of this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.
Eren
ok but eren is such a cringe dad lol
buys himself all of the #1 Dad! merch. he’s got mugs, tshirts, hats, all of it, and all of it went on his credit card.
10000% a girl dad. loves all the little dresses and bows; he puts your daughter’s hair in its first bun, nearly tears up when she points at his matching hairstyle and babbles “like da-da!”
you have to parent eren as much as the children. when you turn the corner into the living room where he’s supposed to be having “quiet time” with your toddler only to find that they’re buried in a pillow fort and eren’s signed his own name in crayon on the wall next to your daughter’s scribblings. “babe, we can just repaint it! she’s being creative.”
loves when you’re pregnant. after your first, eren keeps a calendar on the wall marking off the days until it’s safe for him to fuck you again, fuck a baby right back into you. already has a breeding kink before your first. develops a lactation kink after.
TERRIFIED (and i mean terrified) of hurting your little angel. has absolutely zero concept of “cry it out”; if he hears his baby crying, he’s sprinting into the next room, kissing a nonexistent boo-boo.
refuses to admit it but he has no backbone when it comes to your daughter wanting literally anything. she wants it, she gets it.
favorite thing in the world is matching outfits. favorite. “babe, where’s her green hoodie? i’m wearing mine today for the park!” “of course it matters, we have to match! on that note, where’s yours?”
lets your daughter use his hair to learn how to braid. usually has a few pink hair ties or glittery clips sticking out of it when you come home from a mom’s night out.
really big on your baby getting to see the world. drags you on vacation to any place he can think of, even as you try to explain to him that she can’t form any long term memories yet. “but baby, she’ll have pictures. how many kids in her class can bring a picture of them at the eiffel tower to their first show-and-tell?”
accidentally ruins santa and the tooth fairy for your daughter. cries harder than she does over it.
aggressively vets babysitters. ends up settling for a nursing student in the labor & delivery school who’s the oldest of seven children and probably more knowledgeable about child development than both of you combined, but he’s still suspicious.
wants to watch while you push, watch his baby come into the world. you’ve never seen a sweeter sight than eren in his scrubs, crying while holding your baby girl.
Jean
most people picture eren as being the roughhousing dad, but it’s jean, and i will die on this hill.
freaks out every time he drops your first boy while throwing him around like a ragdoll, but he’ll never stop because “listen!! he’s laughing!”. when it comes to the rest of them, he’s experienced enough now to tell the difference between a real booboo and an imagined one, and he simply brushes their little pants off caringly before shouting “now you tackle me!”
jean’s got no gender preference for your first, or the rest of your little brood for that matter. he raises them exactly the same, regardless: tough.
it takes him awhile to get used to the concept of babies’ minds. you’ve walked in on him having full-blown arguments with your shrieking toddlers several times. “what’s not making sense? if you let your goldfish ‘swim’ in the toilet, it dies, simple as that.”
plays “bad cop” for you because you’re terrible at it, but he’s always having to turn around and snicker into his elbow in the middle of scolding because your babies get the same little throbbing forehead vein as you when they’re mad
wants a big family, and gets it. you practically have to drag him to get his balls snipped after your fourth, him reminding you that “it’s reversible!” the entire way there.
the newborn phase is his favorite. he’s rarely home for any longer than ten minutes without scooping your most recent addition into his arms, squishing their little cheeks and marveling at their gurgling noises.
the kids never give him anxiety, but when you’re pregnant??? jean’s a wreck.
“do your feet still hurt, love?” “what do you mean you have indigestion? that could be the baby coming!” “of course we can’t have sex, what if we poke its little head?”
definitely the dad that’s got a delivery bag and a backup bag and an emergency third backup of the backup bag in his car at all times. the first week of your third trimester, he starts watching you suspiciously for any signs of labor, even though this is your fourth together. you think you’ve got it down by now, you tell him, but he won’t listen.
always gets the kids to work together on little surprises for you. every mother’s day they wake you up with breakfast, every valentines day your dining room table is covered in handmade cards, every birthday your kitchen is coated in flour from jean and four little ones attempting to bake
SO HARD to drag him out for a date night. he wants to bring them everywhere: the fancy restaurant, the couples' get away trip
jean's that dad standing in the bar, watching the game, beer in hand, with an occupied baby carrier strapped to his chest
wants to watch during delivery, but he passed out the first go-round, so now he’s content standing up by your head, trying not to turn white as you squeeze his hand hard enough to break.
talks you into just one more on your fourth’s second birthday. “they’re all so big now. don’t you miss it, babe? my baby in your belly? c’mon…” turns out he reversed that vasectomy without telling you
Reiner
another girl dad. hardcore girl dad.
buys his little princess all number of dresses and barbies, is confused when she’s more interested in the baseballs her classmates have.
accidentally raises the most tomboyish, toughest little girl. still babies her, and she hates it.
cries more than you do on your first date night out when you leave her with your mom. forgets to order his entree at the restaurant because he’s watching the baby monitor app on his phone.
definitely the best at splitting baby duties with you. reiner’s up before you most nights when she wakes, grabbing a bottle and cooing at her lovingly even as she screams. you always try to stay awake to watch him on the baby monitor, though, heart melting as his massive arms rock the tiny bundle back to sleep.
all the neighborhood kids love him because of his size. at every cookout, reiner can’t help on the grill because he’s buried in the grass in a little army of toddlers, led by your daughter, shrieking with joy.
always taking pictures. literally always. unflattering ones when you fall asleep breastfeeding, candids at the zoo, eighteen identical pictures of the lock of hair from her first haircut clogging up his camera roll.
can’t be the bad cop. literally ever. he just can’t say no to his little princess, can’t break her precious little heart by telling her that throwing her food onto the floor is bad.
takes your daughter to mommy & me classes with him
DILF DILF DILF. all the moms in the classes swoon over him and gossip about him when he’s not there; much to your annoyance, reiner never notices, insisting that they’re his “mommy friends”.
always sporting a little bit of glitter on his face or a sticker on his back from your daughter
coming from a fatherless background, reiner nearly kills himself trying to be a constant presence in your daughter’s life (you have to remind him that he has to rest too)
never misses an open house night at school, even if it nearly gets him fired. coaches all of her sports teams. literally almost cries when she makes her first soccer goal. actually does cry when she tells you the boy sitting beside her in class called her his girlfriend. full-blown breakdown on her first day of school, so bad he has to stay home from work.
the absolute BEST through your pregnancy and delivery. always cooking your craving of the week, constant foot and back rubs, stays up all night with you for the three days before the birth when you’re just too swollen and miserable to sleep.
holds your hand through the entire delivery, gets in the doctors’ way when they’re performing checkups because “i’m her father, i need to know what’s going on”
Levi
levi never pictured himself as having children, but when your little surprise arrives, blinking up at levi with his own grey, owlish eyes, levi can’t believe he hadn’t thought of it sooner.
very easily irritated with anyone asking questions about your home life.
when his coworkers ask for your newborn’s name, levi simply says “child.” are you two trying again? “why the fuck do you need to know?”
super overprotective. your baby waves at someone in the supermarket, and levi’s leaning down to explain (in words your eight-month-old can’t yet understand) stranger danger.
totally one of those parents that goes half-crazy trying to get their child into the top-notch, snobby preschool in town.
“we’re not wasting his intelligence on the public school”
levi grew up with basically nothing, so he goes all out buying the best baby products on the market. $2,500 strollers, researching “best baby toys for development”, the whole nine yards.
100% spends months trying to get your child to make a game out of picking up his own toys after playtime, but it never works.
has a meal plan for your child to “optimize nutrition” that you have to sneak around to give your baby little chocolates and junk snacks.
“why are there pringles in his playtime bag? they have no nutritional value.”
vets anyone that comes around your child, even other children. “no more playtime with that evan kid. he’s always got a cold or something.”
he’s always been a light sleeper, but once you have your child, levi snores beside them watching kids’ cartoons on the tv like you’ve never seen him, even drooling as his head lolls, arm tucked tight around your little one.
learned everything he could about labor and delivery beforehand
you almost killed him in the delivery room as he explained each medical detail of your labor symptoms to “reassure” you. he finally got the hint when you threatened to decapitate him.
he thinks it’s shameful, but watching you be a mother turns. him. on. 
wants to take you right there when he catches you breastfeeding, watches you read a bedtime story, spin your child around laughing. you’re just so naturally good at it and it makes him love you all the more, all that love going straight between his legs.
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thriftedtchotchkes · 1 year ago
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old dogs don't change
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pairing: joel miller x f!reader
summary: weeks after sleeping together, your no-strings-attached agreement goes up in flames when joel goes on a date with another woman. you make sure that never happens again. (sequel to keep it on the low)
warnings: 18+ MDNI, ex-boyfriend!joel, jackson era, tlou 2 jesse appearance, age gap, hurt, angst, smut, unprotected piv, post-breakup sex, rough sex, public sex, rough oral (m!receiving), exhibitionism, possessive behavior, jealousy, alcohol use, briefly dating other people
word count: 10.6k
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You have no idea who she is, but you bet she’s a total bitch. Is that mean? Maybe. Do you give a shit? Nope.
To be fair, you’d probably say that about anyone Joel started dating after you, but that doesn’t mean it can’t still be true. Sure, you've never actually talked to her…or seen her before in your entire life, but that’s beside the point. She’s cute and bubbly, and everything you’re not, and that’s the point. 
It’s honestly a little comical how different the two of you are, and you can’t help but wonder if Tommy did that on purpose. You know he was the one who set them up. Everyone in the dining hall was talking about it this morning. The latest, hottest piece of gossip, bouncing from table to table like a cruel game of telephone. 
He probably thinks he’s protecting his big brother, but you think he needs to mind his own fucking business. It’s not like he knows anything about your relationship, not really. Well. It’s not your relationship anymore, is it? And Tommy, along with everyone else in this town, blames you for that.
Poor Joel, dumped by the biggest bitch in Jackson, who took advantage of his kindness and patience for years, and broke his heart when all he did was love her. Selfish, cold, and uncaring. Nothing like the pretty, perky girl sitting next to him in the booth they’re sharing at Seth’s. 
If only they knew what really happened.
The bar is especially busy, even for a Saturday night, so you figure no one’ll notice you blatantly glaring at them. It’s not like you care, anyway. You’re feeling warm and loose, and maybe a little too tipsy for your own good, but tonight, you get to do whatever the fuck you want. 
Because Joel’s sitting ten feet away with his arm slung around another woman, and it hurts. 
It sucks way worse than him avoiding you since the last time you slept together, after all of the things you did and said on that couch. The things he said. You shoo away the thought with another swig of beer, wishing you were drinking something stronger. It's for the best. 
If you get any drunker, you’ll probably end up doing something stupid, and the last thing you need is to prove everyone right that he’s better off without you. But you can’t seem to shake the anger that’s starting to simmer below the surface. 
With the emotional toll this night has already taken, you kind of don’t want to. So, you surrender to it. Fuck him. He’s a piece of shit for parading his new girl around right in front of you, and for breaking off your agreement without so much as a word. 
If he wanted to see other people, he should’ve opened his mouth and used his big boy words. Then again, he’s always been terrible at that, so why are you surprised? 
Maybe he’ll fuck her tonight. Touch her all of the ways you like because that’s all he knows anymore. She’ll moan for him, soft and sweet, gentle in her affection, just like she’s touching him right now. But it won’t satisfy him, and when he’s panting on top of her, chasing that all-consuming release only you can give him, you know he’ll be pretending she's you. 
Asshole.
You’re still watching them, shooting daggers from your spot at the bar, when your wish from earlier is granted. Two overflowing shot glasses topped with lime are placed in front of you, and you look up to see a very attractive dark-haired, brown-eyed man smirking down at you.
"Looked a little lonely over here," he says in a raspy baritone even lower than Joel's. He clinks the top of your beer bottle with the bottom of his own. "Thought you could use some company, maybe another drink."
Well, he’s right. You could use some company, and you’d love another drink. There’s no harm in having a little fun, right? If Joel’s doing it, then there’s nothing stopping you.
"So, both of these are for me, then?" you smile coyly, reaching for one. He nods, his own smile widening.
"Could be. Can I join ya?" he gestures to the empty stool next to you. 
He has this cocky look on his face like he already knows you'll say yes, and in your inebriated state, you think it's kind of hot. It reminds you of Joel when you first met. How he knew exactly what he wanted and wouldn't give up until it was his. Until you were his.
You consider him for a moment. He’s young, maybe even younger than you, and obviously confident enough to make a move on you. Fleetingly, you think he might end up being that stupid thing you do tonight, but then you down one of the shots and decide you don't actually care. 
What turns out to be tequila burns the entire way down, and you immediately pick up a slice of lime. You’re hyperaware of the way his eyes lock onto your mouth as you suck on the sour fruit, lingering when a droplet of juice dribbles down your chin. 
It’s not a total surprise when he reaches up to thumb it away, but you are taken off guard by how strange it makes you feel. The pad of his finger is disappointingly smooth, no weathering or even a hint of a callus. You're not sure why that matters to you, but you can take a decent guess.
You chance a glance over at Joel's table and, of course, you have his full attention now. His entire body looks tense, from his hand clenched on the table to the prominent vein bulging angrily in his neck. 
Good. Now he knows how it feels.
Looking back up at your mystery guy, you run your tongue along your bottom lip, catching any remaining lime before you finally give him an answer. 
"Sure. Pop a squat, cowboy," you giggle. It doesn't even sound like you and feels wrong the second it passes your lips, but as long as Joel heard it, that's all that matters. "You got a name?"
He replies, but you're too busy keeping an eye on Joel in your peripheral to catch what he says. In the back of your mind, you think that’s probably a good thing. You'd rather not know, especially if you do end up taking him home. 
Mystery guy laughs at your noncommittal hum and you realize you’ve been caught. But he doesn’t seem upset. It’s clear he’s amused by your obvious interest elsewhere and that piques your curiosity. 
Any other guy here would’ve been pissed by your apathy, especially if they’d bothered to buy you a drink that you accepted, but apparently not this one.
He sits down on the stool next to you, pulling it close enough that his knee presses against yours. You unconsciously lean into him, your skin erupting in goosebumps despite your growing unease.
He's...baffling. A total enigma. You can’t figure out what his deal is or why he’s choosing to keep pursuing you when your eyes have been glued to another man all night. 
The thought of letting this continue long enough to find out is a little thrilling. Might as well see where this goes. If it escalates, you’re more than confident in your ability to care of yourself.
But it happens sooner than you expect. His hand finds the back of your stool and, then, his lips are suddenly right next to your cheek. You can feel the warmth of them as he tilts his head to whisper in your ear.
“Look, not try'na to overstep, but…,” his eyes dart to where Joel’s sitting, unreservedly ignoring his date. The poor thing barely notices, chattering away about something not nearly as important to him as watching you. His gaze returns to you, and you can feel him smirking. “You wanna make that guy you've been staring at all night jealous?"
That’s—wow. You didn’t see that one coming. He’s got a lot of audacity to assume that’s something you’d want, let alone offer…what? His services? 
But, then again, he isn’t wrong. Joel’s been the only thing on your mind since you walked into Seth’s tonight and saw him with her. He’s always on your mind if you’re being totally honest with yourself. It’s plain to see, obvious to every single person in this bar including the man himself.
You eye your mystery guy curiously for a second before nodding, your lips quirking into a small smirk. Maybe it’s time to prove to Joel and everyone else in this judgmental town that you’ve moved on, too. That you’re not the sad, bitter shrew that deserves to be alone.
"Yeah, actually, I do," you reply cautiously. But there's still one lingering question that has yet to be answered. "I just…why? I don’t get why you’re helping me. What are you getting out of this?”
He shrugs, and somehow you can just tell by the look in his eyes that there’s no hidden agenda. You’re not sure how you’re just noticing, but he has kind eyes. This whole time, he’s been nothing but patient and attentive, like Joel always was—...is? 
Was.
You almost wish you could fall for someone like this man instead of pathetically clinging to your past. Maybe you’ll at least get a friend out of this crazy night, if nothing else. But then you remember one, tiny problem with that idea.
“Can you tell me your name again? I promise you have my full attention this time,” you smile sheepishly. He chuckles good-naturedly and, again, doesn’t seem to hold it against you.
“It’s Jesse,” he says with a deep, southern drawl you should probably be more attracted to. “And let’s just say I know how it feels to want someone ya can’t have.”
You nod slowly, understanding perfectly. Except—you didn't realize up until this moment that that's exactly what you want. Someone you can't ever have. 
And it took seeing Joel with someone else, his body pressed up against a woman that isn't you, to realize it. Well, that fucking sucks.
You decide not to ask about Jesse's situation. It's not your business and, anyway, you're both trying to feel better about your circumstances, not worse. 
There’s a silent sense of camaraderie between you that tells you to throw caution to the wind. Tossing back the second shot, you turn your stool to face his, literally and figuratively turning your back on Joel. 
“It’s really nice to meet you, Jesse,” you murmur, and you genuinely mean it. He grins, leaning in slowly, still giving you time to back out if you want to, but you don't. 
Eat your heart out, Joel Miller. This one's for you.
"S'nice to meet you, too," he replies softly. 
Then, his lips are on yours. The kiss is wet and open-mouthed, and yet he handles you so delicately. He cradles your face in his hands as his tongue brushes against yours, and you moan softly into his mouth, letting your body get lost in the way he feels. And he feels so—
Much different than Joel. 
All you can think about is how much you miss Joel's rough touch, the way he'd thread his fingers through your hair and tug you into his mouth, nearly devouring you whole. Joel kissed you like every time might be the last, right up until it actually was. 
Fucking hell, why can't you just enjoy this without him ruining it for you?
You try to forget about it, about him, licking into Jesse's mouth a little more aggressively, and he groans, his body eager and responsive. It's probably more than you should be doing in public, sitting at a bar surrounded by people but, hell, you want them to see. 
They can say whatever they want about you. You're done giving a shit.
And, boy, will they have a lot to talk about after tonight. Joel makes sure of that. It happens so fast, you barely register that Jesse’s lips aren’t on yours anymore like they should be.
One moment, Jesse's hands are trailing down your sides to your waist, and the next, he's being forcibly dragged off you. Between you stands a broad, imposing figure ensuring you stay separated.
Your mind goes blank, and all you can do is watch in shock and disbelief as Joel lets loose on him, his words possessive and almost nonsensical. 
"The fuck you think you're doin' touchin' her like that? Y'need to learn how to keep your hands to yourself, kid, before ya get yourself in trouble," he grits out angrily. 
To his credit, Jesse stays cool and collected, but it’s not enough. There’s already a few pairs of eyes on you, drawn by the physical altercation, and it won’t be long before the rest of the bar notices the impending fight.
"Respectfully, sir, s'long as the lady consents, I'll put my hands wherever she wants," Jesse replies, standing his ground. He tries to move around him to return to your side, but Joel fixes him with a look that sends a shiver down your spine.
"S'that really a good idea?" Joel sounds menacing and looks even more so the longer the conversation continues. 
You’re still numb to everything unfolding in front of you and it’s not until Jesse’s next to you again, snaking an arm around your waist, that you finally come to. The reality of your situation hits you like a ton of bricks and now you’re mad. You open your mouth to retaliate, but Jesse cuts you off before you can get a word in.
“There a reason it wouldn’t be?” he turns the question back on Joel and you tense, anticipating a less-than-friendly answer. Jesse squeezes your hip in reassurance, but it does nothing to soothe your unease. He doesn’t know Joel like you do.
“Kid, do I look like I’m fuckin’ around? Take your hands off her and walk away. M'not gonna tell you again,” he all but growls, taking a threatening step forward. 
Neither of you back down. Jesse’s arm stays firm around you as your nails bite into your palm. It's taking everything you've got not to make a bigger scene than you already have.
You knew it. Since the breakup, you’ve been trying to reconcile this increasingly unfamiliar man with the Joel you gave your entire heart to all those years ago. With each passing month, the differences between the two become more and more obvious.
He's angrier now and has so much less patience. It's not that he's unkind. You know that no matter what his circumstances are, Joel will continue to be a good man. But he has a hair trigger, especially when it comes to you. 
And he wants. God, he always wants you. It’s not that you didn’t have an active sex life before everything fell apart. He just...fucks you differently now. Possessively and without restraint, like he needs to be sure you're satisfied enough to never need anyone else. The agreement to keep sleeping together was actually his idea. And it worked for a while—until it suddenly didn't. 
Now, you're forced to come face-to-face with that reality. Sitting at this bar, you spent the entirety of the night believing he'd decided he didn't want you anymore, that he was ready to find happiness in something simpler than sneaking around with his ex.
Except, it's starting to feel like maybe that's not as true as he made it seem. Like he never should've gone on this date in the first place.
"What the fuck, Joel?" you hiss, fighting to keep your volume under control. Not that it matters. The entire bar is staring at you, their eyes ping-ponging back and forth like they're watching a tennis match. "Back the fuck off. Now. This is none of your business."
"The hell it ain't my business. Some kid's runnin' his hands all over another man's girl and y'think that ain't my business?" 
His trembling hands clench into fists at his sides and, while you’re betting the rest of the bar thinks he’s preparing for a fight, that isn’t Joel. It might be you, though, if he keeps this up.
"Excuse me? And whose girl am I—yours? Because I'm pretty sure your girl is sitting over there in that booth. Or did you forget about your date?"
For a moment, he actually has the nerve to look ashamed, like he feels bad about leaving her all alone at their table and for humiliating her in front of all these people. He avoids her crestfallen gaze, likely not ready to face the hurt he’s caused. 
But it only lasts for a second before his eyes darken again, focused solely on you. As if Jesse, his pretty date, and everyone else in this bar disappeared, and it's just you and him. This conversation doesn't include them anymore. It's a private matter now.
"We're leavin'," he says with finality, his tone leaving no room for argument. 
He should know better. That's not how things work with you. You’re a fighter, a trait he’s always loved about you, even if your ire was directed at him. Back then, it rarely was.
"You're out of your mind if you think I'm leaving with you," you scoff bitterly. "Go back to your date, I'll go back to mine, and we can forget about this. All of it. We're done, Joel."
He shakes his head, mouth tipping down into a frown like he's thinking something over. Then, he huffs out a laugh. Like, an actual laugh, and you start to think maybe he really has lost his mind.
"Y'know, I really don't think we are, darlin'," he drawls dangerously. 
He's on you in an instant, his hand wrapped tightly around your arm as he drags you out of the bar. You briefly consider resisting, but he's moving too quickly. All of those shots you downed combined with the beer you drank earlier go straight to your head, and you're suddenly overwhelmingly distracted by the feeling of his skin on yours.
Fuck, it feels like it's been so long. In reality, you know it's only been a few weeks but, god, you missed it. His hands on your body, anywhere at all on your body. You'd hate how quickly you forget about Jesse if you could think about anything else but those familiar, rough fingertips.
The way they dig into you, reminiscent of how he'd squeeze your thighs or clutch your waist when he was making love to you.
...Wait, what? No...no, fuck. Why is he making this so difficult? Why—Christ...why can't you just leave each other alone? If he never planned on letting you go, he shouldn't have broken up with you. And if he still wanted you this badly...all he had to do was ask. You would've said yes in a heartbeat.
So, you let him steal you away, out into the brisk, wintry air that does little to cool your fury or the heat beginning to coil in your belly. The door shuts noisily behind you, and you immediately wrench your arm out of his grasp before he can say a word. It's your turn to talk now.
"What is wrong with you? You can't just...fuck, you can't do shit like this!" You're seething, practically shaking in your rage, and his expression doesn't look much different. 
"And you can? I dunno what the hell you were thinkin' gettin’ cozy with some goddamn kid, lettin’ him touch ya like that in front of the whole town," he reiterates harshly. He's starting to sound like a broken record. It's the only leverage he's got, and you both know it's flimsy at best.
"Some kid? Jesse's a fucking adult, clearly more mature than you," you bite back. "And it’s a bar, Joel. That's what people do at bars."
Joel scoffs, and you can tell he hates the way Jesse's name falls from your lips. Especially when those lips were on yours not even ten minutes ago. 
"And who are you to decide who can and can't touch me? You broke up with me," you continue resentfully. "You don't get a say anymore."
At that, his face becomes unreadable. He didn't need the reminder, and you know that, but it needed to be said for both of your sakes. Sometimes you think maybe he actually forgets it was his choice to give you up. That he didn't realize his decision would hurt you as much as it hurt him.
"So, what? You gonna take him home then, let him fuck ya?" He leans in close, so close you can feel his soft, graying curls against your temple and the coarse drag of his beard across your cheek. 
"Kiss ya here—," a finger trails delicately down the side of your neck to his spot above your collarbone, then continues down to where you've been aching for him for weeks, "—taste ya here." 
You slap his hand away before he can get any further, but your reaction only spurs him on. How could you forget? He likes that.
"Y'know he can't make ya feel as good as I do. Fuck you just how y'like it, make ya cum as hard as I do," he drawls confidently, almost smugly, in your ear. "Don't ya?"
It's less a question than a statement, because you both know he's right. Joel knows your body better than anyone ever has, maybe even better than you know it yourself. Just as much as you know his. And it's sort of funny. You were thinking the exact same thing about him with his date earlier.
"Sure, Joel. Just like you were gonna take that girl home, right?" You raise an eyebrow, turning your head so your lips graze his skin. "Pretty little thing like her, I bet she likes it slow and romantic. She’ll probably even stick around for a snuggle and some pillow talk. You'd love that.”
Even as you mock him, the sneer marring your face doesn’t quite meet your eyes, and the spiteful nature of your words tastes acrid as they pass your lips. He’s so good at that. Always able to bring out the worst in you to prove his point—that he’s no good for you.
But you stand firm, your chest pressed flush against his in a show of determination. You're still in control here, unlike Joel, whose fingers are twitching noticeably at his sides like he's just itching to get his hands on you again. 
"Maybe I would. Liked it with you, didn't I?" he murmurs wistfully, and that catches you completely off guard.
His words are almost too gentle to belong in this argument, and it doesn’t feel fair. What's worse, he looks like he means them. You’d prefer the fight, the aggression of the man who dragged you out of the bar. Not this. Not these traces of your Joel. 
You can already feel your resolve slipping, and the rapid thrum of your heartbeat tells you to let it. When his hands finally take their rightful place on your waist, he’s in control again.
The cool evening air is suddenly stifling, and you’re starting to feel like you’re suffocating, your thoughts a jumbled, heated haze of anger and fear and want. He squeezes hard enough to pull your hips into his and you unintentionally buck, allowing his hands to travel up your shirt. 
There's an intensity to his gaze, tinged with an unexpected tenderness. He almost looks...sated. Fulfilled, now that you're back in his arms. But not completely, not yet.
"You still haven't answered my question," he mutters. His hands splay across your ribcage, high enough for his thumbs to tease the undersides of your breasts.
You bite down hard on your bottom lip, sliding your hands up his chest to push him away so you can catch your breath, but your body won't cooperate. It's been well-trained to crave his touch. Exhaling sharply through your nose, you fist his shirt and instead pull him impossibly closer.
"You asked a lot of questions tonight. You're gonna have to be a little more specific,” you pant heavily.
It's getting more difficult to think, now, with the warmth of his body against you, his thumbs shifting higher to stroke your stiffening nipples. He urges your hips forward again to meet his, and you can already feel him straining in his jeans.
You whimper helplessly, unable to curb the way your body's reacting to him, and the soft sound causes something in him to snap. He suddenly backs you up against the hard brick of the bar's exterior and begins to grind languidly into your stomach. 
"Y'really believe that boy can take care of a woman like you? Hm?" He interrogates you, his voice gravelly and uneven in your ear. "Tell me I'm the only one who can give you what ya need. Wanna hear ya say it."
Fuck, you can't lie to him. As much as you want to, it's just one more thing your body won't allow you to do. Not when he's working you up like this. 
"You're the only one," you moan around your admission. He's still crowding you into the wall, his hands greedily roaming your soft curves.
His eyes meet yours, darting quickly to your mouth before he leans in to kiss you passionately like he’s rewarding you. It only lasts for a second, one deliciously fleeting second, before he pulls away. You’re not sure why you let him. Or why you kissed back.
"Who's the only man who can make ya scream?" he demands a little more urgently.
"You, Joel,” you murmur obediently, your lips already parted and ready for your prize.
And he acquiesces—another insistent kiss that doesn’t last nearly long enough. This time, you chase him, but he jerks his head back. He still has one last question for you. Except, this time, he looks afraid of the answer. 
"Whose girl are ya?"
He whispers it so softly, you barely catch it over the whistling, nighttime breeze. As he brushes a few ruffled strands of hair behind your ear, you answer without hesitation. 
"Yours, Joel."
His entire body relaxes. Now, he's complete.
"Damn right, you are—"
Then, the front door bursts open next to you, and he's abruptly cut off. Joel is quick to tug you around the corner into the alleyway before anyone can spot you, but he's not fast enough to keep you from seeing who just left the bar.
Jesse.
And there it is. A shock to the system, enough to clear some of that smoky, nostalgic haze and bring you back to the present. But as everything hurtles back for the second time tonight, this time around, you can’t be mad because he’s right.
Of course, you're not Jesse's girl. As pathetic as it sounds, you'll always be Joel's because he’s the only one who can take care of you and give you what need. The only man who can make you scream. But that goes both ways.
Even though he’s been picking fights all night, he hasn’t raised his voice once. It's not the way he wins his battles. So, maybe it's time to remind Joel Miller that there is someone who can make him scream. But he isn't allowed to unless you say so.
It all feels eerily familiar—his fingers digging into your waist and your lips crashing into his hard enough to bruise. You lead him deeper into the alley, back to where the glow of the string lights above the bar can't reach you, before you separate from him. 
Neither of you wants to be the one to say it, but it needs to be heard. Here, in the dark, you can be his completely, but once you part ways and return to your empty beds, that's it. Just like last time. The reasons for your breakup are still very real, and that means your relationship can't be.
"Only here. Right, Joel?"   
He stays silent for a moment, his gaze filled with deep longing and sadness. It almost makes you want to take it back. Take him back. So, when he shakes his head and cups your cheeks, kissing you like this might be his last chance, you're not surprised in the slightest.
And after this whole night—this whole confusing, fucked-up night—you let him. Right now, he needs this. Maybe you do, too.
His lips taste like whiskey and relief, and you return his kiss with all of the passion and fervor he’s pouring into you. You’re both a little frantic in the way you touch each other, but as much as you don’t want it to, it makes perfect sense. 
Those few weeks without each other felt like years, and now that his hands are back on your body and his voice, deep and dulcet, is in your ear telling you how badly he wants you, you don’t want to let him go again.
You grind the heel of your hand into the front of his jeans and his responding groan pleases you more than it probably should. This. This is yours—his pleasure, his attention, him. They belong to you and you alone. Not his pretty, perky fucking date. 
The sudden possessiveness stuns you for a moment, but it's not enough to stop the feeling from consuming you. This must be how it feels for Joel. It's potent and feels so, so…right. You're starting to think you've felt this way for a while.
"I needed you, and you made me wait so fucking long," you gasp against his lips, and the fingers cradling your face tense. You’re still fisting his shirt, nearly hard enough to tear, and you wrench it up from where it’s tucked into his pants. 
"M'sorry, darlin', I know. I know I did,” he rasps back, following your lead and dropping his hands from your cheeks so he can unbuckle his jeans. “M'gonna make it up to ya. Tell me what you want, I’ll give it to ya.”
You want everything. Everything he has to give, you want it all. After everything you've been through, the hurt he caused you, you deserve it. And right now, what you want is for him to feel so good, he'll never go on a date with someone who isn't you ever again.
Sharp gravel bites into your bare skin as you drop to your knees in front of him. He's already so hard under all that heavy fabric and looks desperate above you. Just as desperate as you are for him to replace the flavor of Jesse's tequila and lime on your tongue with something saltier and headier, and undeniably Joel.
You hastily unbutton and unzip his jeans, not wasting any more of the precious time you have left together, before tugging them down just enough to free his cock and balls. He looks...fucking mouth-watering—flushed and red and leaking, and so goddamn thick. You wrap your hand around him and he sighs gratefully, dribbling precum onto your fingers.
"This is what I want," you finally reply, keeping your eyes locked on his as you lean forward to lick a broad line up his cock. He hisses in a breath through his teeth, his thighs already beginning to tremble, and you brace your hand on one. "But you're gonna be quiet, okay? I'm gonna suck your cock and you're not gonna make a single sound."
His expression darkens, but he agrees to your terms, nonetheless.
"Sure, darlin'. Whatever you say," he nods, gazing down at you with furrowed brows. He cradles your face in his hand and brushes his thumb along your cheekbone.
The affectionate gesture isn't lost on you, but this time you accept it. Instinctively leaning into his touch, you revel in it for a brief moment before his cock pulsing a frantic rhythm against your palm becomes an unignorable distraction. But a welcome one.
"That's my boy," you mumble against the tip. Just as a pained noise escapes his parted lips, you swallow him down as far as you can take him, purposely gagging yourself on him before you can dwell on the words that accidentally just tumbled out.
Your boy. Your boy. It echoes in your mind, ricocheting wildly and painfully like a bullet. Before you can take it back, maybe even to keep you from taking it back, he buries his fingers in your hair and holds you in place. You choke around him, trying your best to breathe through your nose, but in doing so, you take in a lungful of the heady musk at his base.
The familiarity of it all sends you reeling. He only gives you a second to adjust before he's fucking into your mouth and biting back a litany of needy sounds that rival your own wet, audible gagging. Your grip on his thigh tightens as your throat relaxes, allowing you to take him deeper, and you can feel yourself clenching around nothing every time he grazes the back of your throat. 
Tears stream down your cheeks and he wipes them away with a much too tender swipe of his thumb, even as he continues to force you up and down his cock. But you're too lost in your pleasure to notice anymore. So fucking good, you feel so, so good. But you need more, and you're not willing to pull off of him just yet.
Tugging down the front of your shirt, you roll a sensitive nipple between your fingers, and, god, that helps. You imagine they're Joel's and it amplifies the sensation, though your fingertips are still too smooth and delicate. Then, they're replaced by exactly what you've been yearning for all night. 
“You don’t even know how beautiful y'look like this,” he grits out, his fingers running through your hair with one hand and roughly cupping your breast with the other. His hips stutter, and you moan around him. “Fuckin’ perfect. How are ya so fuckin’ perfect?”
Beautiful. More beautiful than her? Well, you must be, because you’re the one here on your knees, choking on his cock, and she’s still sitting in the bar wondering if her date will ever come back. 
He won’t.
You preen without meaning to, your eyes blearily finding his while you drool around him, dripping saliva down his balls and onto your bare breasts. It's as if the visual alone has him thrusting into your mouth faster, pushing your limits only as much as he knows you can take. You must look like a wet dream right now, his wet dream, with your watery eyes and swollen, split-slick lips wrapped tightly around him.
Yet, he's remained so, so quiet this entire time, just like you told him to. Joel likes his sex loud, regardless of where you are and who might hear, so if he’s following your rules, that means something. 
It means he'll do whatever it takes to have you. The realization crashes over you like a bucket of ice water, and then you're pulling off of him. 
“You’ll give me anything, right? Anything I want?” your voice cracks around the question, wrecked from the effort of taking him. His hips chase your hand as you continue to pump him, matching his previous, unforgiving pace. 
“That ain’t a question, y’know I will,” he replies breathily and without hesitation. 
You gaze up at him, praying your eyes convey all of the need and anguish and hope you've felt since the last time you slept together. Since the last time you were his.
“Fuck me," and you won't accept anything less than his all. Not that half-assed shit he would've given her. "Fuck me."
He understands. His heart rate kicks up, thrumming wildly against the palm of your hand, and you know he does.
The growl that rumbles through his chest is nearly soundless but powerful. An entire night's worth of tension culminating in a single exhaled breath, just before he drags you up and spins you around, bending you over against the wall. 
Bracing yourself on the harsh brick, you rush to give him better access, arching your back as he tugs your pants and underwear down to your knees. A callused hand runs upward, following the notches of your spine, while his other spreads across your waist, pulling your hips back onto his so you can feel him, heavy and leaking against your bare ass.
God, he’s so close to where you need him now. His knuckles graze your skin as he grips the base, pumping himself before the blunt head of his cock nudges your entrance.
But then, for some godforsaken reason, you feel a wave of panic. Time suddenly feels like it's running out, worsening with every subtle movement he makes. The ticking clock of your and Joel's relationship, perpetually stuck at two minutes to midnight, has sprung to life and that terrifies you.
You don't want him to stop—fuck, you don't want him to stop, but you know neither of you will last long once he's inside you. The build-up was too intense and this entire night has you both wound up so tight, you could snap at any moment. 
You need to savor this. The way you failed to on your couch all those weeks ago, and might not get to ever again.
“Slow,” you tell him over your shoulder, and it's equal parts a command and a plea. If this is the last time, then you want to feel it. Every thick inch of him, while he still belongs to you. “Just…go slow.”
He nods, shifting forward almost imperceptibly so he can watch your lashes flutter as you brace for the stretch.
"Don't need’ta tell me. I know how ya like it," he replies gruffly.
He does. For now, you won’t overthink it or let yourself get lost in the nostalgia of his cock nestled inside you. You’ll just enjoy it. Sex with Joel has always been mind-blowing, and here, in a dirty alleyway, pressed up against the exterior of a bar, you bet it’ll be life-changing.
It stings like it always does when he breaches your entrance, no matter how wet you are for him. Together, you hiss in a sharp breath, mutually adjusting to the overwhelming stretch that quickly ebbs into something addictive.
"Tight as all goddamn hell," he mutters to himself, rocking into you languidly. He takes his time, relishing your walls enveloping him, mesmerized by the way you suck him in until he's buried to the hilt. 
"Would'ja look at that," he continues in awe, tracing where his cock is forcing you to yield to him. "Greedy fuckin' pussy, ain't she? M'not goin' anywhere, don't'chu worry. Gonna take care of ya...make ya feel so fuckin' good..."
He's starting to babble. Not good. Not good at all. 
Broad hands grip your ass, pulling your cheeks apart so he can see how tightly you’re gripping him, and it's too much. His hips buck, startling a pained whine out of you as he rams into that spot. The one deep inside you he can only reach when he’s fucking you from behind. Your cunt clenches, fighting to keep him there, and he growls low in his throat, hungry and territorial like a wild animal.
"There it is," he nudges it again, purposefully this time. You barely manage to bite back a sob as you gush messily around him. "Christ, honey, y'sure ya still want it slow? 'Cus it sure don't sound like it."
He's patronizing you. He knows exactly what he's doing—that's his spot. He also knows it makes you loud as fuck. But he wouldn’t. There’s no way he’d go back on his word, not after he promised he’d be discreet.
"Joel. Don't," you warn him shakily, but you're already too far gone to be intimidating. 
He pulls out until just the tip is still inside you, huffing out a distinctly calculated breath.
"Don't what? Don't make ya cum nice and loud on my cock? 'Fraid I can't do that, darlin'."
That's all the warning you get before he slams in hard. Your jaw drops, and you're positive you couldn't have stopped the wail punched out of your chest even if you'd tried.
Wrong. You’re wrong again, and you should’ve known better. It’s not the first time he’s gone back on his word, remember? Joel’s shitty lack of communication is why you’re here in the first place. Sure, he agreed to be quiet, but he never said anything about you.
He establishes a brutal pace that has you scrabbling against the wall for purchase and slapping a hand over your mouth in a futile attempt to muffle the desperate cries being forced from your body.
Please, don’t be outside. Please, please, Jesse. Don’t still be outside. 
But your luck's officially run out. 
Heavy mahogany crashes into solid brick, echoing down the alleyway, and a raucous group of people spills out onto the street, barely 30 feet from where your ass and tits are out for anyone to see. Then, the deep baritone of Jesse's voice cuts through the rest, and your blood immediately turns to ice. 
You're fucked. You're about to get caught and expose your secret to the entire town, except...Joel isn't stopping. Fuck, he's—
Yanking your entire body up and ripping your hand away from your mouth, rutting into you like he was just waiting for an audience. He snakes a hand up your stomach to palm at your chest, squeezing firmly to anchor himself as he fucks up into you with all the force he can muster.
And it turns you on so much, you finally stop caring. Fuck it. Fuck this town. Fuck everyone in that bar who made you feel like a goddamn pariah for months, crucifying you for the unforgivable sin of getting your heart broken. 
You hope his date's standing out there, too, so she can hear everything she'll never get to have. So they can all see that Joel Miller isn't the crushed, cruelly dumped old man they all thought he was.
Your moans ring out, loud and high-pitched, all but drowning out the messy slap of his hips into the drenched curve of your ass.
"That's it, darlin', let it all out," he chuckles darkly against the shell of your ear. Your next moan tapers into a drawn-out keen that he mimics, his thrusts getting shallow and sloppy. "S'for me, right? Let 'em know you're makin' all those pretty noises just for me."
Christ, you're close. And he's as close as you are, you can feel it. You turn your head, nodding jerkily into his shoulder.
"S'for you, Joel—mmph, just for you. Only for you," your words slur as he continues to bounce you on his cock. 
"Tell 'em you're mine, darlin’. Not just here," he pants raggedly, desperation coating his words. "Everywhere. You're mine everywhere."
The voices are getting closer, about to pass the mouth of the alley, and the ice in your veins quickly thaws, turning to molten lava. They'll definitely be able to able to hear you, but can they see you? For the umpteenth time tonight, you decide you really don't give a shit. You've got none left. You and Joel, that's all that matters now. 
His hand drops between your legs, thick fingers swirling tight, slick circles into your clit while he waits for you to confirm what he already knows. You've said it again and again—weeks ago, wrapped up in his arms, and earlier tonight, after the worst argument you've had since the breakup. 
And you’ll tell him again in this alley as you cum blindingly hard around his cock. Third time's the charm.
"Y-yours, Joel. I'm always yours."
His hips completely lose their rhythm, and he barely has time to breathe out his contentment before the violent convulsing of your cunt and contrasting serenity of your words send him hurtling over the edge.
"That's my girl."
He crashes his lips into yours, swallowing every noise you make as the group finally comes into view. Their drunken chattering and roughhousing aren't enough to draw your attention away from each other, but the depraved sounds of Joel continuing to fuck you through your release captures theirs almost immediately.
A few of them stop to squint into the darkness, trying their best to pinpoint what everyone already knows is happening further down the alley. As they inch closer, they can just barely make out two connected figures, and the wind carrying muffled gasps and labored breathing with it into the street all but confirms it.
"Y'all seein' this?" they whisper amongst themselves, but in the inebriated state they're in, they might as well be yelling.
And that's what pulls you and Joel back to reality. Shit. Shit. So, this is it, then. You tense in Joel's arms, waiting to get called out as the slutty girl who seduced her ex away from his date. Hell, they're not even wrong. You can feel his cum dribbling out of you, and can't help but think maybe you'd deserve it.
From where you're standing, you recognize each and every one of their faces under the string lights, and you know damn well that none of them can keep their mouths shut. Except...wait a second. They're still glancing back and forth between you and Joel in the shadows and each other. 
Oh. The fucking shadows. None of them can see shit. They have no clue who the hell they're looking at. Joel must've caught on around the same time you did, because now he's backing up, putting more distance between you and the looming crowd. Before they can get any closer, one of the younger guys cuts in front to block their path.
“C’mon, it's probably a couple’a teenagers. Just let ‘em be," he drawls, glancing back at you. Your eyes lock, and you're suddenly so grateful, you could cry. It's Jesse. He shoots you a wink before turning back to the group, shaking his head in mock admonishment. "Don't act like y'all weren't doin' the same damn thing at their age."
By some miracle, it fucking works. They all laugh in agreement, appeased by Jesse's quick thinking. One by one, they follow each other out of the alley and back onto the road to continue their original path home. Jesse lingers. 
"Glad y'all figured things out," he calls out over his shoulder, giving you privacy to tug your shirt back up. He clears his throat awkwardly before continuing, "Look, I, uh...distracted as many people as I could from comin' over here, but if y'all were gonna be that loud, maybe you should'a figured things out at home."
Jesse shakes his head again, chuckling to himself as he shoves his hands into his pockets.
"Anyway, y'all have a good night, now. Get home safe."
As he jogs away to catch up with the rest of the group, you start to laugh, too. You can’t help it. It feels cathartic, relieving some of the tension of this overly eventful night.
Joel’s body begins to shake behind you, his chest rumbling with what you realize is deep-bellied laughter. It gradually increases in volume as it melds seamlessly with yours; transitory, white clouds of condensation that intertwine, then dissipate.
You feel him slip out as he starts to soften, and then he turns you to face him, carefully crowding you into the wall. He kisses you again, this time slow and deliberate like you asked him to earlier. His tongue meets yours, gasps exchanged and treasured like you have all the time in the world. 
When he parts from you, it feels reluctant, but he stays close, whispering his next words against your lips.
“M’gonna get ya cleaned up, alright?” he mumbles, dropping his arm from around your waist to run his fingers up the cum leaking down your thighs. You shiver as they continue up, slipping his release back inside you. “Don’t…,” he continues, squeezing his eyes shut as his forehead drops to yours, “…just—don’t go anywhere. Please. I’ll be right back.”
Maybe he’s trying to protect himself from the response he anticipates you’ll give him, but that seems silly after everything you’ve been through tonight. You cup his cheek and thumb the coarse, trimmed hairs of his beard, willing him to open his eyes. He does, hesitantly, one then the other, and you offer him a soft smile.
“I’m not going anywhere, Joel.”
An intoxicating breath fans across your face, and the taut muscles in his neck and shoulders loosen. His lips match the soft quirk of your own and, then, brush fleetingly against your cheekbone as he backs away and disappears through a metal side door you didn't notice before. The moment it clicks shut, you slump against the wall. 
Christ. Your mind is simultaneously blank and racing a mile a minute. Taking a deep breath, you let your head thunk into solid, grounding brick while you wait for even a single coherent thought to take root. What now? What happens next? 
There's no coming back from tonight. You both made choices you'll have to answer for, but, for some reason, that doesn't seem so scary anymore. The clock is ticking, but there's time. Plenty of it.
You're still lost in your reverie when Joel gets back with a thick wad of damp paper towels. You snort at the idea of him suddenly appearing in Seth's kitchen and having to explain himself, but maybe the racket you kicked up right outside his door was explanation enough.
"Seth didn't give you any shit for stealing his stuff?" you ask as Joel drops to his knees and coaxes one of your legs over his shoulder.
The cold air has already started to leach the warmth from the paper towels, and they feel cool as he slides them along your soiled skin. He huffs out a laugh.
"Nah, the kitchen was empty. Think they're startin' to close up for the night." 
When he finishes your first thigh, he surprises you by leaning in to press a soft kiss against your freshly cleaned skin. He nips at you teasingly before starting on the next one.
You hum in response, threading your fingers through his hair and watching fondly as he pays careful attention to his task. He continues to wipe away his drying release, trailing his lips down your thigh as he goes, until he finishes at your knee.
He gazes up at you with a charmingly crooked grin, and that’s when it finally slips out. The single coherent thought you’ve been waiting for.
“I love you, Joel,” you murmur, brushing your fingertips across his cheek. 
His smile falters. Then, it drops completely and your heart shatters. You don’t understand. But that—no. No, it doesn’t make any fucking sense. After everything that’s happened, how could you have been wrong again?
Joel sighs, grimacing as he slowly gets back up. He braces himself on one knee, clearly aching more than he's letting on, but when you reach down to offer him a hand, he refuses your help.
“S’fine, I got it. Just…,” he gestures to your jeans, still hanging loosely around your knees. You pull them up, fighting not to feel humiliated as he rises to his full height. 
You search his eyes for…something. Anything. Any indication of what he’s feeling right now, but they’re blank. Cold and distant, just like they were the night he left you. 
No. He doesn’t get to do this to you again. Not after everything you’ve been through. Not without an explanation. Not if he doesn’t want to lose you forever.
“Tell me why you broke up with me."
For a long time, you genuinely believed you could live without knowing the truth, but somewhere along the line, it began to eat away at you. Now, you want the real reason. He owes you that, at the very least.
You wait while he either works himself up to it or tries to figure out what bullshit to tell you this time. Once his hands settle on his hips, you know with absolute certainty it's the latter.
“Darlin’…,” he starts wearily, but you shoot him a look that stops him in his tracks. He doesn't get to call you that right now, and he knows it. Pausing, he nods grimly before beginning again. "We already talked about this. I’m no good for ya. It was only a matter of time before ya woke up one day and realized it for yourself.”
There it is. That same bullshit reason. You scoff bitterly, not surprised in the slightest.
“What the fuck does that even mean, Joel? We were together for years. If that was gonna happen, don’t you think it would’ve already?" you counter angrily. 
You're trying not to get emotional. This can't be a repeat of what happened last time, but it's dragging up too many painful memories. It's always the same fight. You can't do this anymore.
"You know what? Fuck you," you seethe as your self-control slips completely. "Fuck you for making that decision for me. You had no right."
At your words, his face crumples and he has the nerve to look ashamed. Maybe even a little hurt. His pained expression makes your heart ache, yet a nastier part of you believes it's only fair that he feels this way, too. He sighs, his eyes dropping wistfully to his feet.
“I did what I thought was best," he mumbles quietly as if he doesn't want to be heard. It's hard for him to say this out loud, and you realize it's because he's finally telling you the truth. "I just…I thought you’d be happier with someone else, someone who could give ya a family. Kids. I gave you up so you could have the life ya always wanted."
You eye him incredulously. The life you always wanted? Sure, you and Joel had toyed with the idea of having a family once upon a time, but that was never a dealbreaker. He should've known that. He should've brought it up before deciding to destroy your life together over an idealized fantasy.
“Oh, here we go. Joel, the fucking savior. Mr. Fix-It, swooping in to save everyone and solve every problem," you hurl back venomously. But it was a cruel thing to say, and you immediately hate yourself for it.
Rationally, you know his intentions were kind. He probably even thought he was being selfless. But he hurt you, and, through your tunnel vision, that's all you can see. You push yourself off the wall, stalking closer to where he stands, still refusing to look at you.
"So what, you thought you’d dump me and I’d immediately shack up with some other asshole? Is that really what you think of me?”
His eyes shoot up to yours and his fingers begin to tap restlessly at his sides. Now, you've pissed him off. 
“Don't go puttin’ words in my mouth. That ain’t true and you fuckin’ know it," he all but growls, his body shaking with a turbulent combination of frustration and adrenaline.
You're starting to feel it, too. This conversation is overwhelming both of you, but he still hasn't told you everything. There's a piece missing, keeping all of his disjointed reasonings from adding up. He's holding back and it's time for him to stop.
“Then what is, Joel?" you plead with him to give you a definitive answer. One that finally explains why you had to lose everything. Ellie, your home. The love of your life. "What’s the truth?"
Then, everything he's kept bottled up inside and allowed to poison his happiness claws its way out as a single, unwavering statement. 
“I’m too fuckin’ old for you!”
The silence that follows his admission is deafening. You watch in shock as he runs a hand through his hair in frustration. He's never yelled like that before or looked so defeated. By something as innocuous as his age. 
It isn't something you'd ever considered, not before your relationship and never once during. But he did. His bottom lip starts to tremble as he turns and takes a few steps away from you.
“Every day, I’d watch ya…offerin’ to take more shifts, spendin’ time at the school with Ellie and the kids," he says softly, shaking his head as he works through his next words. "And every day, I’d feel it. My body givin’ out on me, more and more. My blood pressure’s up, my goddamn knees are creakin’. Couldn’t even fuckin’ stand up on my own just now." 
When he turns back to you, his eyes are wet with unshed tears. He feels too far, but you know you can't go to him, yet. He's not finished.
"You can do better than that. You deserve better than that," his voice cracks and your whole world blurs into a wash of colors. “You’re gonna outlive me by a mile. I’m an old man, darlin’. It wasn’t fair for me to keep ya.”
For a while, you just watch each other. Tears overflow and continuously spill down his cheeks and yours, but neither of you moves to wipe them away. 
None of this is fair. You're both miserable and heartbroken, perpetually yearning for a love you've told yourselves you can't have. Months ago, Joel made a choice for both of you. You won't make the same mistake he did.
"I didn't want fair, Joel. I wanted you. A life with you...," your face screws up as you fight back a sob, "...the rest of my life with you, however long that is."
Joel takes a tentative step forward, carefully reaching out to touch you, but stops himself before he can get too close. He looks afraid...of you. Scared of the consequences of allowing you back into his heart. 
A sob escapes your chest, then, and you wrap your arms around yourself, suddenly bitterly cold and wanting nothing more than for Joel to hold you. To tell you for the first time since the breakup that he loves you and, regardless of time, won't ever stop.
So, you cross the alleyway and cup his wet cheeks in your hands, wiping away his sadness and, hopefully, his fears. He melts into the poignant familiarity of your touch and it makes you brave. This time, you'll be brave enough for both of you.
"Don't I deserve that?" you whisper, close enough to share his next breath. He watches your lips, hanging onto your every word. "Don't you?" 
His eyes meet yours, and it finally happens. The moment Joel gives in and decides to let himself be happy. He nods slowly in your grasp, reaching up to cradle your hand on his cheek. 
"Dunno what I deserve, darlin'. Not after the things I've done and the hurt I put ya through. But if I'm...if this is really what ya want...," he hesitates, his voice thick with tears and, yet, still that full-bodied, twang that sounds like home. "I'm yours. 'Til my last breath, I'm yours."
He kisses you before either of you can start crying again, and it's all there. The love he kept under lock and key to protect you, released from the prison of his own making.
His kiss feels different again. There's no hunger or rush, and the possessiveness—the need to devour everything you have to give so there's nothing left for anyone else—is gone. He's sure, now, that there's no one else you'd rather give yourself to.
His arms circle your waist and he pulls you closer, crushing you into time-worn chambray and sullied denim as you continue to explore each other like a pair of horny teenagers. Two lovers learning to give and take for the first time. Time passes slowly in this space you've carved out for yourselves, even as the moon continues to rise in the night sky and floods the corridor with light. 
Then, noisily and as if right on cue, the last-call crowd stumbles from the bar and immediately catches what the previous group missed. You and Joel separate, dazed but unhurried, to find that it's them. 
It has to be fucking kismet that, of everyone in Jackson, the first to witness your reconciliation would be the biggest blabbermouths in the entire town. The same women who talked shit about you every day for months and constantly vied for Joel's attention, standing there with wide eyes and slack jaws.
Their varied expressions almost make you want to laugh, and you can't help but snort unattractively into Joel's shoulder. Half of them are glaring at you, and the rest look either devastated or genuinely surprised. Guess you were better at hiding your arrangement than you thought, not that it matters anymore. It's a relationship again, and everyone's about to know all about it. Joel clears his throat, drawing their attention back to him.
"Evenin', ladies. S'there somethin' we can help ya with?" he drawls, breaking out the Southern charm that endeared every single one of them to him in the first place.
They all shake their heads, looking a little too pleased with themselves once the initial shock wears off and they realize you've just given them the gossip of the century. After a few fake, high-pitched pleasantries, they slink away as quickly as they came, already chatting to themselves about some shit you'll definitely hear tomorrow at breakfast. You watch them go, feeling oddly liberated.
"Guess the cat's outta the bag, huh?" You wrap your arms loosely around his neck, still chuckling softly to yourself. Joel huffs out a laugh, too, bending down to kiss the crown of your head before nodding in agreement.
"'Fraid so," he muses, amusement and a hint of something lighter glinting in his eyes. 
You haven't seen him this relaxed in a long time. As he holds you in his arms, he leans a fraction of his weight on you to ease the night's strain on his back and knees, and it makes you feel needed. Relied on. That's new, Joel depending on you like this. Things are going to be different this time around, you can tell. They already are. 
You hum, ruminating on what awaits you after your first night back in your own bed, in your own home. What everyone will think and say—to your face and behind your back—when they find out you're back together. Though, the only opinions you give a shit about are Ellie, Tommy, and Maria's, anyway.
So, yeah, you're a lot of things right now: exhausted, yet relieved and so full of hope. But you're not afraid, the cat and the bag be damned.
"I'm not," you tell him honestly as you pull away. You let your hands trail from his shoulders, down his arms, until his hands are in yours. 
Tugging gently, you walk him backward out of the alley, away from the bar and plummeting winter chill, and any lingering, prying eyes. Even the moon and stars have no stake in what comes next. This moment, right here and now, belongs to you and Joel, alone.
"Take me home, Joel."
The light in his eyes burns brighter, amusement giving way to adoration and contentment. He's been waiting for this, to be given the privilege of keeping you safe and taking care of you the way he needs to—it's how he shows love. 
He slots his fingers between yours and leads you down the empty streets of Jackson. 
"Darlin', nothin' would make me happier."
thanks for reading!
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ghostofwriting · 2 months ago
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Arranged
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Arranged
Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: allusions to sex, cheating,
Note: just something I had rattling around in my brain for the longest time.
Word Count: 2,215
No one warned her. She likes to pride herself on not being a complete idiot so how did she not see this coming? The hints were all there. 
Her father is one of the richest men on Kildare Island so naturally, ever since her birth, she has been told that she would marry a just as wealthy if not wealthier man. There was no room for her to experience real love. It was a waste of time as she wouldn’t get to choose who she dated or even married. 
Everything was arranged for her. Her dad would find an eligible suitor and she would marry him. 
She was fine with this. Of course she was, it was all she had ever known. 
She would be marrying Rafe Cameron. 
Her father had called her down to his study and broken the news to her right then and there. She had heard his name, seen him around at all the high-class events their families attended but she had never exchanged one word with him. 
Once the initial shock of finding out she’s getting married in less than a year wears off, she runs to her room where her best friend is reading a book on her bed. 
“It’s Rafe.” Her best friend jumps up and squeals. 
“No way!” She grabs her phone and looks him up immediately. Not knowing what she’s looking for, she’s sure that he won’t post his wedding announcement to someone he hasn’t even had a conversation with. 
“There’s this girl all over his feed.” She takes the phone from her friend and scrolls, pausing to look at one picture in particular where he’s giving the girl a piggyback.
“That’s his best friend, they’ve known each other since they were three, and their moms are best friends.”
She scrolls some more and blushes, seeing pictures of him shirtless at the beach. He’s attractive. He’s probably one of the most desirable men on the island. He’s never seen around with anyone though, and doesn’t take any of the ladies up on their offers. 
She would be okay with this. Not only because she has no choice but because it’s Rafe Cameron.
They meet on a Sunday afternoon, the sun is shining, the birds are singing, and it couldn’t be more perfect. Except that the girl from his Instagram is here. Before his father steps in, they’re whispering to each other in the furthest corner away from her and her father. Her hand is on his bicep and he holds her like he’s afraid she’ll float away. 
“Thank you for coming,” Ward says walking into the room, extending a hand for her father and then her. 
“It is our pleasure.” Her father says. 
“Rafe, don’t be rude, come greet our guests.” Rafe hesitates but the girl nods, stepping away from him.  
Ward gives the girl a look and a half smile.
 “you may go.” Rafe looks at his father and then at the girl shaking his head. 
“Dad-” Ward puts up a hand to stop him. 
“Let y/n go and say hi to Sofia, she’ll be your future wife after all.”
The girl, y/n, Ward had called her, leaves the room and she can see how tense Rafe becomes. 
Sofia should have known. 
===
They start dating, or the courting process. He takes her to fancy restaurants, clubs, events, and theaters, but they are never alone. It's like he’s trying to avoid talking to her for too long. He’s always busy at work or having to travel. She hadn’t had a moment alone with him since their first meeting when both their fathers gave them some time to talk and even then Rafe kept checking his phone.
She thinks she could love him. He’s very kind, he thinks of her when he goes to get himself a drink, he brings her back presents from his travels, and introduces her as his girl to all his friends. 
All of them except for one. 
When she met Topper she was introduced as his girl, it was a casual party, with no real formalities. Topper had given him a strange look that she only noticed because she was directly looking at him. If she hadn’t she would have missed it because it was gone in a second.  
“Nice to meet you Sofia, welcome to his life. I’m excited to see where it goes.” She finds his words weird but she lets it go, smiling at him. 
“Likewise.”
When she met Sarah she was with John B and JJ. Rafe introduced her as his girlfriend, Sarah had a tight-lipped smile and JJ had tried to elbow John B discreetly but John B’s reaction had given him away. 
“Nice to meet all of you.” Sofia said.
“You too!” Sarah chimed in. 
“You should come around the house some time and meet the rest of the gang.” John B extends the invite to her, Rafe clears his throat and Sarah stiffens. She’s about to nod in approval when JJ’s voice breaks through the awkward silence John B’s words had created. 
“That’s not a good idea.” Her eyes snap to JJ. He’s not looking at her, his face is stoic and he’s looking at Rafe. She looks up at Rafe and he’s looking at JJ, head nodding. 
“Yeah, I’m sure you could meet them somewhere else.” The atmosphere is charged with something she doesn’t recognize. 
“Hey, will you give me a moment?” Rafe asks her, shuffling her over to the drinks table. 
“Yeah, sure, I’ll find Melanie and text you where I am.” He gives her a small smile and nods. 
“Is she here?” She hears him ask one of the three pogues as she walks away. Sarah is the one who responds. She hears her say something about the second floor and when she turns around to see Rafe’s reaction, he’s already walking in the direction of the stairs. 
He never comes to find her. 
He doesn’t introduce her to the girl until a month after they start dating. 
She gets introduced to her as Sofia. Not his girl, not his girlfriend. Just Sofia. Hey, this is Sofia. 
The girl introduces herself and she is so sickeningly sweet that Sofia feels they could be best friends too. 
She takes her hand and walks her around Tannyhill, showing her all the things that there are to do. She shows her where they keep the best snacks, where the movie room is, and where not to go and leads her up to Rafe’s room. She’s been in Rafe’s room before, he’s her boyfriend. The way that y/n walks in, it’s like she lives there. She’s so comfortable, going through all his stuff, showing her where he keeps anything she may need. She opens up a drawer and tells her that those things are hers but she should feel free to use them. 
She doesn’t think anything of it. They’re best friends, they have known each other since they were kids. Of course, she has things she keeps at his house. In his room. 
Rafe’s mother is home for once. She walks by his room and spots them. 
“Oh, my sweet angel!” She waltzes over to y/n and grabs her face in between her hands. “How I have missed you. You haven’t been around much, why is that?” She looks to Rafe and then back to the face, she’s holding. She gives Sofia a side glance. 
“I see, well. You are welcome anytime. And I have spoken to Ward about the situa-” She gets cut off by y/n and Rafe.
“It’s okay.” y/n says. 
“You did?” Rafe says with more urgency, walking up to his mom. 
“I have sweet boy. And I will keep trying.” Rafe mumbles a small thank you, she sees his hand hovering over y/n, like he wants to touch her but he pulls back, clearing his throat and looking at her like he just remembered she was there too. 
She doesn’t know what situation they are talking about and before she can gather the courage to ask, his mother is gone and y/n is saying something about getting food with Sarah and Louisa. 
“Your whole family loves her very much don’t they?” she asks Rafe, sitting at the edge of his bed. 
He longingly looks to where his best friend once was, sighing, “yeah.”
===
She’s at Tannyhill again for dinner this time. There are a few more people than usual. A few people she’s never met, one being Barry, and a few other of Rafe’s friends. 
She’s been mingling with all the guests, making her rounds as the new heiress of her father’s company and she’s exhausted. She walks into the study for a few minutes alone. She doesn’t fully close the door in case someone needs her, she can hear them call. 
She’s looking at all of Ward’s trinkets when she hears voices outside the study, whispers. 
“What do you think of her?” Topper, she thinks.
“She’s no Missus Country Club that’s for sure.” She doesn’t recognize the voice. 
“No one is ever going to be her. He's crazy for letting this go on. If I had what they had and someone was threatening it I would grab her and leave the country.” Topper adds. 
They aren’t mentioning names so she’s confused. So curious to know who they are talking about. 
“She’s a nice girl. I just hate that so many people are being hurt because of this.” Sarah. 
“Rafe is going to lose his mind when he finds out.” She thinks this must be Kelce. Recognizes him from phone calls with Rafe.
“I don’t blame her, if I were in her shoes, I couldn’t stand by and watch as the love of my life got married to someone else.” Who’s getting married? 
“Has anyone talked to her?” There’s silence. 
“My mom is trying to fight this so hard with my dad but he just won’t let up.”
“Your dad is such an asshole.” the voice she doesn’t recognize again. 
“Tell me about it. It’s the way he’s pretending everything is okay too? Like he doesn’t see him falling apart or having panic attacks.” Is Rafe having panic attacks? He’s been fine with her. He must be overworked. Her dad had told her it was a really busy season. 
“Bet it doesn’t help that she’s ignoring him.” She wants to scream ‘who!’ Who are they talking about? 
“Hey, we should go.” A new voice pops in, John B. 
“We’ll see you at the party later?” Topper asks, and she assumes the question is directed at Sarah and John B. 
“I wouldn’t want to miss the big blowout.” It must be Barry if he’s leaving with John B and Sarah. 
She waits a few minutes before leaving the study. She sees Rafe talking to his mother and Louisa who glares at her when they make eye contact. She smiles at her but Louisa stomps off. Rafe looks from his mother to his sister before following after her.
“This place is loaded. I can’t believe you’re marrying into this.” Melanie comes up beside her. 
“Do you think something weird is going on?”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s a lot of whispering, things being said without being said.”
“I think you’re just nervous and trying to find a way out of it.”
“There’s no way out of it even if I wanted one.” Melanie’s smile fades. 
“You really like him huh?” she nods 
“He’s everything I have dreamed of. This union will set both of us up forever. It is just what we need.”
“And he’s good in bed?” her friend jokes making her blush
“We haven’t.” Melanie frowns
“What do you mean you haven’t? The Rafe Cameron hasn’t fucked you yet?”
“Melanie!” She gasps
“Oh I’m sorry, you’ve been dating for more than a month. Is he waiting for the wedding night?”
“We’ve barely even kissed.”
“That’s concerning. A 20 year old isn’t trying to get his dick wet?”
“How are we friends?” She says, putting her face in her hands. 
“I’m the one that keeps you sane.”
===
Rafe takes her to Topper’s party after dinner. 
Everyone is there. His friends, her friends, and some tourons. 
The first thing she notices is y/n, who hasn’t been around for a while hanging off some guy’s neck. Her chest pressed up against his as he kissed her neck.
She spots Melanie and drags Rafe who has gone eerily quiet next to her. 
“Finally, I was starting to think you weren’t coming.” She grabs the drink that Melanie offers her and looks up at her boyfriend. He’s looking in the direction where they had come from, his ears red. He probably wanted to say hi to his friends and she didn’t let him. 
“Oh sorry, baby, go and say hi to everyone. I’ll be right here.”
He doesn’t say a word, just marches off. 
When he’s been gone for over thirty minutes, she goes and looks for him. 
“Have you seen Rafe?” She asks some random. The person points to the upstairs area and she makes her way. 
She comes up to Topper’s room and pauses. She has a weird feeling. Before she can open the door it flies open and she comes face to face with a tear streaked y/n. 
y/n tries to fix herself up and puts a fake smile on her face. She sees Rafe get up and make his way into the bathroom.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’ve gotta go.” She says moving past her and down the hall. 
“Rafe?” She calls for him, following where she had seen him go. The water that was running turned off. 
“Are you okay?” she parrots her earlier words. 
“Yeah.” He looks like he’s been crying too.  
“What’s wrong?” He moves around her and into Topper’s room. 
“Nothing.”
“Rafe, I can see you’ve been crying, wh-”
“Sofia. Drop it okay?” He grabs his jacket off Topper’s bed and goes to leave.
“Do you want to stay? I’m going home.” She follows him in a hurry, her legs barely keeping up with his long strides. 
“I’ll come with you.” She says finally catching him and looping her arm with his. 
“Fuck this.” Rafe says under his breath. y/n’s sitting on the guy’s lap. As if she hadn’t just been crying. 
She wants to press him more on what happened but he’s angry now and she doesn’t want to make it worse.”
When they get back to Tannyhill, Rafe is a little more handsy. More than he has ever been. He walks her to his room and pushes her down on his bed. 
“Do you want to?” He asks her. She nods eagerly. She does. She likes him so much. 
===
Everything’s normal for a few days. She’s dealing with her father’s company, going to school, she’s busy. Rafe hasn’t come around in a little bit so she decides to drop by Tannyhill unannounced. 
One of the maids lets her in and tells her that no one is home. She decides she’ll wait in Rafe’s room. His door is shut when she gets up there. His door is never closed when he isn’t home. She knocks but doesn’t hear anything so she walks in. When she does, she hears the shower running. There’s a lot of movement, she can hear something fall.
She tries the bathroom door but it’s locked. 
“Rafe?” The movement stops and everything goes silent. 
“Hey! I’ll be right out.” He sounds out of breath. 
“Can I join you?” She asks, they were only together that one time and she’s hoping for a repeat sometime soon. 
“I have to be somewhere in 10 I can’t. Just wait for me downstairs.” He’s been very busy too. He’s probably freshening up from golfing.
“Okay, see you in a bit.” 
She’s waiting for exactly 15 minutes before he comes downstairs. 
“There you are.” He’s flushed, probably from the rush of having to leave. 
She gets up and hugs him. The front door slams and he flinches. 
“What was that?”
“Probably one of the maids. Let’s get out of here, yeah?”
“Didn’t you have a meeting?”
“I’m already late, so I’ll them something came up and we can grab some food?” She likes that she does these things for her. 
“Let’s go.”
===
“It’s not easy for me either Rafe! It hurts.”
She’s on Rafe’s balcony, and she can’t see them but she hears them, they’re downstairs, underneath her. 
“I know. I know it does but if you could just wait.”
“For what? A miracle? No. I’m done. I can’t do this anymore. It hurts too much.”
“You said you would never leave me, we knew this would happen and you promised.”
“It’s so much harder living through it than I thought it could ever be.” Her voice is shaky. 
“I’m sorry. Please just tell me what to do.”
“There’s nothing to do. This is it.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I have to go. 
“y/n.” He calls after her a few more times and then goes silent. 
The door opens a little while later, Ward announcing his arrival and another screaming match ensues when Rafe corners him. She can’t hear what it’s about but Rafe sounds desperate. 
Ward says something about contracts and his hands being tied and wishing he had said something sooner. Rafe yells back about his mom trying to get him out of it and Ward not listening. She hears Ward apologize and tells him that something is over. To let go and that he has bigger responsibilities now. 
Rafe storms out of the house and doesn’t come back that night or the next. 
==
She hears from Melanie that y/n’s gone. That must have been what Rafe and her were fighting about. Her friendship is very important to him and he didn’t want her to leave. 
She tells Melanie about the blowout and about Rafe being MIA. 
“Maybe the whispers do mean something.” She says. 
“What do you mean?” She asks her friend. 
“Rafe and y/n.” She looks at Melanie, confused.
“Sof, come on.”
“No. Rafe would never. They’re just friends. She’s gone now anyway so what does it matter?”
“You were always trained for this weren’t you?”
“Excuse me?”
“Nevermind.” 
==
Rafe comes back after two days away but it’s not the same. His mother and Sarah are worried about him. He won’t leave his bed let alone his room. They have tried getting him to see doctors, but nothing seems to be working. Sofia even tries talking to him but gets nothing out of him. He just tells her to go away and leave him alone. 
A week goes by and she sees him out and about again. To anyone else, he looks normal. To her, he looks crazy. His pupils are blown, and his hair is messy and unkempt. Nothing like the Rafe she met. He was always so put together, and right now he looks like he could burst into tears at any moment.
They go back to his house and she lets him seek comfort in the only way he’ll accept it from her. When she wakes up he’s gone. 
===
Sarah calls her asking if she knows where he is. She tells her that no and that’s when Sarah tells her that they haven’t seen him in a week. They are scared and worried for him because he’s been doing drugs. Cocaine. 
She had never known Rafe to do any of that. He was always very proper, never stepping out of line. Sarah asked her to keep her posted. 
Her mother called her later that day, telling her to get to the hospital immediately. Rafe had been in an accident. 
She’s the last one to get there. His family, his friends, they are all there. Except for one. 
She walks in and a hysterical Sarah is being held back by John B. 
“This is your fault! You are so selfish all you care about is money! Look at where he is now Dad! If he dies it is on you!”
Dies? Rafe’s mother looks at her and walks over. 
“He’s unconscious, they had to pump his stomach. He overdosed.” Sofia can tell she’s trying to be strong but the tears in her eyes keep coming. 
“Why? How?” her words go unheard as the doctor walks into the waiting room. 
“You can go see him now. Immediate family only.” Sarah is the first one to go, followed by her mother and father. Louisa hangs back, looking at her. 
“You did this.” She spits at her, running after her family. 
She’s so confused, so stressed out and she just wants to know how her boyfriend got himself in this situation. 
Everyone falls quiet. 
“You aren’t the cause of this. You’re just another pawn.” Kiara speaks up, not looking up from where her hands are, tangled with JJ’s.
===
Later when everyone vacated the waiting room after hearing word that Rafe would be okay, she walked towards his room. Coming to a stop when she hears Ward’s voice. 
“I’m so sorry son. This is all my fault. I am so sorry.” Ward is speaking through tears. 
“I’m going to fix this, I’ll put an end to everything and you’ll be okay. You’ll be happy again. I promise.” An end to what? Why was Rafe sad?
“Did you call her?” Rafe’s voice comes out weak. 
“I did. She’s on her way home.” who? y/n? Why does Rafe want her?
“Thank you, dad.” 
“I’ll be better.”
===
She doesn’t get to visit him at the hospital. He didn’t want to see anyone. She hears from her mother that he’s finally out of the hospital and she jumps out of her bed, quickly changing. 
When she walks into Tannyhill, there are flowers, gift baskets, and balloons all with ‘get well soon’ messages littered across the tables and desks. 
“He’s just in his room miss.”
“Thank you.”
She hears laughter coming from his room, a girl. She knows that laugh even though the last time she heard that voice it was screaming at her boyfriend. 
She opens the door shyly and both their heads turn to her. y/n is sitting on the bed next to him, his head is on her shoulder as she scrolls through her phone. 
“Hi.” Rafe looks at Sofia and then the girl next to him, having a silent conversation in between them.
“I’ll be in Sarah’s room.” She hops out of his bed and through the doors, not without a small but sad smile directed at her. 
“We need to talk.” He says sitting up.
“Okay.”
“My dad is going to put an end to this arrangement. We don’t have to pretend anymore.”
“I wasn’t pretending.”
“Look, Sofia. I’m sorry that you were put through this. I wish I could have convinced him earlier before you got dragged into this.”
“Convinced him of what?”
“To let me marry y/n.” He’s so blunt about it,  like it’s obvious like she’s stupid for not knowing. 
“What?”
“y/n’s my girlfriend, Sof.” Her mouth drops in shock. 
“But you and I, we-” She’s at a loss for words.
“Yeah we took a break, she couldn’t do it.”
“Couldn’t do what? Cheat?”
“I didn’t cheat on her.”
“Not on her. On me.” She snaps back at him.
“None of that was real. This was an arrangement.”
“It was real to me, Rafe! You took me on dates and you slept with me! You told me we were getting married.”
“y/n had broken up with me, I wasn’t in a good headspace.”
“Fuck you. No.”
“No what?”
“No. This arrangement is not over. You are going to marry me because it’s what my family deserves and I don’t care if we have to pretend for the rest of our lives.” She can feel the lump in her throat getting bigger. Her eyes starting to water.
“My father is putting an end to the contract. It’s over. You can go.” She shakes her head. 
“How could you do this?”
“Sofia, you are not the only one who was brought up with the idea of never having true love, of having to settle. I knew my dad was going to do this to me. I was fully prepared to have to play nice and pretend. But I found the real thing and then I couldn’t do it. I won’t do it.”
“I loved you.”
“No, you didn’t. You love the idea of what your family made this out to be. You don’t know what real love is. I hope you find it.” He’s so calm. Everything in her life is falling apart and he doesn’t care. 
===
She sees them for the first time at the Country Club. She has never seen him as happy as he looks right now. With y/n hanging off his arm, his hands find her, not a moment goes by where he isn’t touching her. 
How could she not have seen it? She was so stupid. All his friends laugh around her, talk to her, and engage with the girl like they never did with her. She should have been able to tell. 
They all knew. They knew she was his everything and that Sofia was just some obstruction getting in the way of forever. 
The hints were all there. 
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