#she's equal parts aggressive and loving! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

peavhyshy · 17 days ago

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⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ - THE LOVE CLUB (pt.1)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 paring ─ ୨୧ ─ heir!rafe cameron ⋆ life!coach!reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 summary ─ ୨୧ ─ love island au - in which love island contestants, you and Rafe, are drawn to each other despite being coupled up with other people, leading to heightened tension and drama in the villa.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 warnings ─ ୨୧ ─ angst, drama, explicit language, suggestive language, sexual tension, love triangle, alcohol use, competitive/aggressive behavior, jealousy/possessiveness. mention of substance abuse. mention of family dysfunction, manipulation/deception, and pick me behaviors.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 wc ─ ୨୧ ─ 15,791

⋆˚✿˖° a/n ─ ୨୧ ─ this skips around a lot, it's not clear what day it is but according to people who actually go on the show that's accurate so whatever. part 2 coming out before or after Christmas. also, if you do celebrate christmas, hope you have a great time.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔.:･The Love Club･:.ೃ࿔.⋆❀°

(༝༚༝༚ lorde)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Outer Banks Masterlist ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Navigation ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

The sun beams down on the pristine villa courtyard as the contestants gather for their first challenge. Rafe lounged on one of the plush outdoor sofas, his expensive designer swim shorts and carefully styled hair marking him as distinctly out of place among the more casual islanders.

Sarah Hyland stepped onto the challenge platform, her heels clicking against the decorative tiles. "Islanders! Welcome to your first challenge - 'Spill the Tea'!"

"Each of you will take turns reading a secret about someone in the villa," Sarah continued, gesturing to the ornate box of cards placed center stage. "If you guess correctly, you can pour this lovely pitcher of 'tea' over them. And trust me, these secrets are... explosive."

The ten contestants arranged themselves on the stools, Rafe's fingers drummed against his thigh, his other hand adjusting one of his gold rings.

"I'll go first!" volunteered Emma, a kindergarten teacher practically bouncing off her stool excitedly. Her cotton candy pink bikini matched her equally bubble-gum personality. She reached into the box, pulling out the first card with theatrical flair.

"Ooh, this is interesting," she giggled, clearing her throat. "This islander once crashed their father's luxury yacht while trying to impress a date."

Rafe's jaw clenched involuntarily, his eyes narrowing as several heads turned toward him. The memory of that particular incident - and the subsequent screaming match with Ward - flashed unwelcome through his mind.

"That's got to be Richie Rich over there," drawled Marcus, the personal trainer and chef, jerking his thumb toward Rafe. "Am I right?"

Emma clapped her hands together. "Correct! Sorry Rafe, but it's tea time!"

As she approached the pitcher, Rafe's entire body tensed. The cold liquid splashed over his shoulders, and for a brief moment, his mask slipped - revealing a flash of genuine rage before he forced out a laugh that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Real mature," he muttered, pushing his wet hair back from his forehead. Lilly, the girl he’s coupled up with, reached over to sympathetically pat his arm, but he shrugged her off with barely concealed irritation.

"Next up," Sarah announced, maintaining her host's enthusiasm, "James, you're up!"

The motorcycle trainer moved forward, his tattooed arms flexing as he selected a card. He unfolded the card, a mischievous glint in his eye as he scanned the contents.

"This islander," he read slowly, building suspense, "once got fired from their job for starting an unauthorized therapy session during a corporate team-building exercise."

Rafe's attention immediately snapped to you, his fingers absently twisting one of his gold rings. He watched as several other contestants shifted their gazes between you and the others, clearly trying to piece together who might've done something so boldly inappropriate.

"Got to be our resident life coach," Rafe called out before anyone else could speak, his voice carrying that distinctive entitled drawl he'd perfected over years of private school education. The corner of his mouth twitched into something between a smirk and a sneer as he adjusted his still-damp designer swim shorts.

"Correct!" Sarah announced, her voice carrying across the villa's outdoor space. "James, go ahead and serve that tea!"

As James readied the pitcher of cold tea, you let out a genuine laugh, your eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well damn, you got me!" You stood up from your spot and smiled. "But for the record, that corporate team needed way more help than HR was willing to admit."

The other islanders chuckled as James approached the pitcher. You raised your hands in mock surrender, your black bikini already glistening with sweat from the sun. "At least make it quick!" You called out, closing your eyes as the cold liquid splashed over your skin.

"Fuck!" You gasp, wiping tear from your face while laughing. You glanced over at Rafe, still damp from his tea shower. "Good catch there, Cameron. I see you've been paying attention," you teased, wringing out your hair. "Though I'm starting to think these producers are just trying to get us all wet."

Lilly giggled from her position next to Rafe, her perfectly manicured fingers trailing along his forearm. "Babe, how did you know that one so fast?"

Emma leaned forward on her stool. "I mean, it kind of makes sense. Like, imagine being stuck in some boring meeting and suddenly someone's trying to psychoanalyze your childhood trauma."

"Some people just can't help themselves," Rafe drawled, his tone dripping with calculated disdain. His comment earned a few uncomfortable chuckles from the other contestants.

The game continued, with the social media manager Blake drawing the next card. "This islander," she read, "has a trust fund worth over fifty million dollars but has never held a real job."

Rafe's entire body tensed, his knuckles whitening around the edge of his stool. The familiar anger bubbled just beneath his carefully maintained surface, threatening to crack his composed exterior. He could feel the weight of the cameras tracking his reaction, waiting for him to snap - just like everyone always expected him to.

"Come on," he muttered under his breath, his leg resuming its anxious bouncing. The morning had barely started, and already he could feel the familiar itch under his skin, the one that usually led him to make regrettable decisions back home. The kind that Ward would have to clean up with carefully placed phone calls and generous donations.

The tension in the air grew thicker as Blake's eyes scanned the group, clearly weighing her options.

You sat perched on your stool. "Well, that's obviously Rafe," You spoke up, your voice carrying across the challenge area. Your eyes fixed on him with an amused glint. "I mean, the designer swim shorts kind of gave it away." You gestured toward his expensive attire, earning a few snickers from the other contestants.

"Time for more tea!" Sarah announced with exaggerated enthusiasm. As Blake approached with the pitcher, you couldn't help but notice how Rafe's jaw clenched, his knuckles whitening around the edge of his stool.

"Looks like someone's having a rough morning," You commented. His barely contained rage was evident in the way his eyes darkened, a muscle twitching in his cheek.

Emma leaned over to whisper something to Marcus, but your attention remained fixed on Rafe. As a life coach, you’d dealt with plenty of volatile personalities before, but something about the way he carried his anger - like a loaded weapon ready to go off - made you wonder what exactly was simmering beneath that carefully maintained surface.

"Oh, someone's feeling brave today," Lilly chimed in, tossing her platinum-blonde hair over her shoulder. The Instagram model's voice dripped with manufactured drama as she shifted closer to Rafe on her stool. "I mean, at least he earned his trust fund. What's your claim to fame? Giving pep talks?"

You rolled your eyes, wringing out the last drops of tea from your hair. "Honey, I help people become their best selves. But clearly, some need more help than others." Your gaze flickered meaningfully between Lilly and Rafe.

Finn the travel photographer let out a low whistle. "Damn, the life coach's got claws!" He high-fived Lee the accountant, their muscled arms flexing in the sunlight. "This is way better than watching rich boy sulk all morning."

"Can we just get on with it?" Rafe snapped, his voice tight with barely controlled anger.

"Ooh, my turn!" Lilly reached for a card, "This islander once..." she trailed off, eyes widening. "Oh wow. This islander once punched a hole through their bedroom wall after losing a golf tournament.

Aish the research chemist gasped dramatically. "Another Rafe special?" She turned to you with an exaggerated whisper. "Girl, I think your professional services might be needed here."

All eyes turned to Rafe. You watched as his fingers pressed harder against his chest, his breathing becoming more rapid. You recognized the signs of an impending anxiety attack, but before you could say anything, Rafe stood up abruptly, knocking his stool backward.

"Fuck this," he snarled, storming away from the challenge area. He disappeared into the villa, leaving a wake of stunned silence behind him.

Sarah cleared her throat awkwardly. "Well, islanders, let's take a quick break, shall we?"

As the other contestants dispersed, whispering among themselves, You remained seated, your eyes fixed on the villa entrance where Rafe had vanished.

"That was intense," James commented, moving to stand beside you. "You really got under his skin."

You shook your head slightly, your wet hair leaving droplets on the tiles. "That wasn't about me," you reply softly. "That's about something much deeper." You stood up, adjusting your bikini. "And I think it's about to explode."

You lounge by the pristine infinity pool, your skin glistening with a light sheen of tanning oil. James sat beside you on the adjacent lounge, his tattooed arms flexing as he adjusted the umbrella to better shade you both.

"I'm just saying," James continued your discussion about the morning's drama, his voice low enough that the microphones would struggle to pick it up, "the way he stormed off was intense. Like, who gets that worked up over a game?" His fingers absently traced patterns on your shoulder, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by the figure aggressively lifting weights nearby.

Rafe's jaw clenched as he watched the interaction, nearly dropping the dumbbell he was curling. Lilly hovered around him like an attention-starved butterfly. "Babe, you're going to hurt yourself if you keep lifting that heavy," she pouted, reaching for his arm. "Besides, I thought we could maybe go somewhere more... private?"

Your trained eye caught every micro-expression that crossed his face. The way his nostrils flared slightly when James leaned closer to whisper something in your ear. The tightening of his grip on the weights when you laughed in response.

"You know what's funny?" James mused, his fingers now playing with a strand of your hair. "I don't think he's actually interested in Lilly at all. Man's spent more time staring over here than at his partner." He paused, studying your face. "Unless it's not me he's watching."

Rafe abandoned his workout entirely, stalking toward the pool with Lilly trailing behind him like a designer-clad shadow. His blue eyes locked with yours for a brief, electric moment before he dove into the water, the splash deliberately sending droplets toward their loungers.

"Real mature," You called out, but there was an undercurrent of amusement in your voice that made Rafe's eyes narrow as he surfaced. Water ran down his chest, his wet hair falling into his eyes in a way that somehow managed to make him look even more attractive – and he knew it.

"Oh my god, Rafe!" Lilly squealed, hovering at the pool's edge. "You got my new bikini wet!" She shot a venomous glare at you as if somehow this was your fault. "This is designer!"

James snorted, pulling you closer in a possessive gesture that made Rafe's hands curl into fists beneath the water. "Everything here is designer, babe," he says. "Including some people's personalities."

Rafe hoisted himself out of the pool, his eyes never leaving your face, even as Lilly rushed to hand him a towel.

"At least my personality didn't get me fired," Rafe shot back, his voice carrying that distinctive mix of arrogance and barely contained aggression. "Some of us actually know how to maintain professional boundaries."

"And some of us," you replied smoothly, "know how to process our emotions without putting holes in walls." Your eyes sparkled with a challenge as you watched his jaw clench at the reference to the morning's revelation.

James's arm tightened around your waist, his expression falling as he watched the exchange. "Babe," he murmured in your ear, just loud enough for the microphones to catch, "maybe we should take this somewhere more private?" His suggestion was clearly meant for Rafe's benefit, and judging by the way the other man's knuckles whitened around his towel, it had the desired effect.

"Actually," You stood up, stretching languidly, "I think I need a swim too." You moved toward the pool with fluid grace, very aware of how Rafe's eyes tracked your movement. "Unless someone's afraid of a little competition?"

"Afraid?" Rafe scoffed, his wet hair falling into his eyes as he took a step closer to the pool's edge. "Of what exactly? Your amateur lap swimming?" His blue eyes raked over your form with barely concealed interest, despite Lilly's attempts to recapture his attention.

You gracefully slipped into the water, the cool liquid a welcome relief from the afternoon heat. "Amateur? Please," you laughed, pushing your wet hair back from your face. "I was captain of my college swim team. But hey, if you're not up for it..."

"Y/N, babe," James called from his lounger, his tattooed arms crossed over his chest. "Don't waste your time. Richie Rich never had to actually compete for anything in his life."

Rafe's jaw clenched at the comment. "First one to the other end and back," he said, diving into the pool with practiced precision. "Unless you're all talk, life coach."

"Rafe!" Lilly whined, stamping her foot. "We were supposed to go get ready for dinner!" Her complaints fell on deaf ears as you and Rafe lined up at the pool's edge, your bodies coiled with competitive energy.

Other islanders began gathering around the pool, drawn by the mounting tension. Emma clapped excitedly from her spot next to Marcus. "Oh my god, this is like the Olympics but with sexual tension!"

"On your mark," James called out, his voice tight with irritation. "Get set..." He paused, watching as you both swimmers tensed, ready to spring forward. "Go!"

Water exploded around you as you pushed off, your bodies cutting through the crystal-clear pool in powerful strokes. You matched Rafe stroke for stroke, your competitive energy is palpable even underwater. You reached the far end, executing near-perfect turns within split seconds of each other.

"Come on, Rafe!" Lilly's shrill voice carried across the water. "Show her what you've got!"

The return lap was even more intense, your bodies practically parallel as you both surged toward the finish. You could feel Rafe's presence beside you, the water churning between you as you both gave everything you had. Your hands slapped the pool's edge simultaneously, sending a spray of water over the gathered crowd.

"It's a tie!" Finn shouted, earning a chorus of excited reactions from the other islanders. "Holy shit, that was intense!"

You and Rafe trod water, both breathing heavily as you stared at each other. Droplets ran down Rafe's face, his eyes with something that wasn't just competitive spirit.

"Not bad for an amateur," You teased as you moved closer to the pool's edge, "Beginner's luck," Rafe shot back, but there was a new note in his voice that made James shift uncomfortably on his lounger. "Best two out of three?"

Before you could respond, Lilly's voice cut through the tension. "Seriously? We have to get ready for dinner!" She grabbed Rafe's towel, holding it out like a peace offering. "Come on, babe. You've proved your point."

The moment shattered as reality reasserted itself. The other islanders began dispersing, chattering about the impromptu race. James appeared at the pool's edge, offering you his hand.

"Thanks," you murmured, accepting his help but not missing how Rafe's expression darkened at the gesture. Water ran down your skin as you stood, the late afternoon sun casting golden highlights across your shoulders.

"Whatever," Rafe muttered, hauling himself out of the pool with fluid grace. He snatched the towel from Lilly's hands, his jaw working as he watched James wrap his towel around your shoulders. "Dinner it is."

The glam room buzzed with excited chatter and the whir of hair dryers as the five girls prepared for dinner. Lilly perched at the main vanity, meticulously applying her third coat of mascara while boring everyone with tales of her poolside encounters with Rafe.

"And then he just, like, totally showed off his muscles during that workout," Lilly gushed, adjusting her hot pink mini-dress. "I mean, did you see how he was looking at me? He's obviously totally into me."

You sat cross-legged on one of the plush ottoman chairs, applying a light coat of mascara to your lashes. The reflection in the mirror caught your subtle eye roll as Lilly continued her monologue. You’d chosen a simple but elegant black dress maintaining an air of sophistication.

"Girl, are you sure about that?" Blake interjected, pausing in the middle of curling her dark hair. "Because from where I was sitting, he seemed more interested in..." she trailed off, shooting a meaningful glance at you through the mirror.

Emma, who was struggling with her false eyelashes, piped up from her spot on the floor. "Oh my god, that pool race though! The tension was, like, totally insane!" She giggled, nudging your leg. "James looked ready to throw hands!"

"Please," Lilly scoffed, now aggressively applying lip gloss. "Rafe was just being competitive. He likes to win, that's all. Right, Aish?"

Aish, who had been quietly perfecting her winged eyeliner, looked up with a knowing smile. "If by 'competitive' you mean 'eye-fucking Y/N the entire time,' then sure, honey."

"What?!" Lilly spun around so fast that she nearly knocked over her makeup bag. "That's ridiculous! Tell them, Y/N. Nothing is going on there, right?"

You carefully applied a coat of lipstick, taking your time before responding. "I don't know what you want me to say, Lilly. I'm coupled up with James, remember?" You stood up to smooth down your dress, the fabric clinging in all the right places.

"Besides," Blake added, unplugging her curling iron, "didn't Rafe basically ignore you the entire time you were trying to get his attention at the pool?"

"He was focused on his workout!" Lilly protested, but her voice had taken on a slightly hysterical edge. "And anyway, he chose me at the coupling, so obviously-"

"Because Y/N was already coupled up with James," Emma pointed out, finally managing to attach her second eyelash. "Come on, Lilly, even the cameras caught those looks they were giving each other."

"You're all just jealous," Lilly snapped, gathering her makeup with shaking hands. "Rafe and I have a connection. You'll see at dinner tonight. I'm wearing his favorite color and everything!"

You caught Aish's eye in the mirror, both of you sharing a knowing look. Lilly stormed out, her pink dress flouncing dramatically.

"Well," Blake drawled, applying the finishing touches to her hair, "dinner should be interesting." She turned to you with a sly smile. "Especially since you look absolutely killer in that dress, hun."

"James is a lucky man," Emma agreed, but her tone suggested she wasn't thinking about James at all.

You finished touching up your makeup and couldn't help but wonder what Rafe would think of your outfit choice - not that it mattered, of course. You were coupled up with James, after all.

But as you gave yourself one final look in the mirror, adjusting the delicate gold necklace that drew attention to your collarbone, you couldn't quite silence the small voice in your head that wondered if Rafe would notice.

The kitchen buzzed with activity as the guys prepared dinner, pots clanging and the sizzle of food filling the air. Rafe leaned against the marble counter, his fitted black button-down shirt rolled up at the sleeves, watching the others work with barely concealed disdain.

"Mate, you could actually help instead of just standing there," Marcus called out, chopping vegetables with practiced precision. His chef's background was evident in the way he coordinated the meal preparation. "Or is cooking beneath the trust fund baby?"

James snorted from his position at the stove, stirring a pot of sauce. "Probably never had to cook a day in his life, right Rafe?" He shot a challenging look over his shoulder, his tattooed arms flexing as he worked.

"I have people for that," Rafe drawled, taking a long sip from his wine glass. His eyes tracked the movement in the kitchen with calculated disinterest. "Besides, someone needs to make sure you don't poison everyone."

Lee, who was attempting to plate appetizers, rolled his eyes. "Right, because standing there looking pretty is such hard work." He carefully arranged prosciutto on a platter, his focus intense. "How does Lilly put up with your attitude?"

"Speaking of putting up with people," Finn chimed in, pausing in his task of chopping herbs, "what was that pool situation about earlier?" His eyes darted between Rafe and James, testing the waters.

The tension in the kitchen shifted immediately. James's grip on the wooden spoon tightened noticeably, while Rafe's casual posture became more rigid. "Just a friendly competition," Rafe replied, but there was an edge to his voice that suggested otherwise. His fingers absently played with one of his gold rings, a sign of his agitation.

Marcus laughed, the sound cutting through the tension. "Friendly? You looked ready to drown each other." He pointed his knife at James. "And you weren't exactly thrilled about your girl getting cozy with Mr. Wall-Puncher here."

"Watch it," Rafe snapped, his composure cracking slightly. He set his wine glass down with more force than necessary, the sound echoing through the kitchen.

"Or what?" James turned from the stove, his expression challenging. "Gonna put another hole in the wall? Maybe throw a tantrum and storm off again?"

Lee stepped between them, holding up his hands. "Guys, come on. The girls will be down any minute. Can we not turn dinner into a testosterone-fueled disaster?"

"Too late," Finn muttered, just as the sound of heels clicking on tile announced the arrival of the girls. James immediately moved to greet you, but not before catching the way Rafe's breath hitched slightly, his fingers tightening around the edge of the counter. Lilly bounced in behind you, her pink dress a stark contrast to your choice.

"Something smells amazing!" Emma exclaimed, trying to break the obvious tension as she entered with Blake and Aish.

"Yeah," Marcus drawled, his eyes moving between Rafe and you. "Something definitely does."

The kitchen fell into an awkward silence, broken only by the bubbling of pots on the stove. Everyone gathered around the long dining table. Marcus proudly presented his carefully crafted main course - a perfectly seared sea bass with roasted Mediterranean vegetables.

"Alright everyone, dig in!" he announced, beaming with pride as plates were passed around. "And yes, before anyone asks, I did most of the actual cooking while some people just supervised." He shot a playful glance at Rafe.

Emma clapped excitedly as she took her first bite. "Oh my god, Marcus! This is incredible!" Her enthusiasm was infectious, drawing genuine smiles from around the table. "You could totally be on MasterChef!"

"Please don't inflate his ego more than necessary," Blake teased, reaching for the wine bottle. "He already thinks being a professional chef makes him Gordon Ramsay."

The evening continued with stories, laughter, and several bottles of wine. As dinner wound down, Emma suggested they all play a game of Never Have I Ever, earning both groans and excited agreements from around the table.

"Never have I ever..." Emma giggled, holding up her wine glass. "Had sex in public!"

The villa's outdoor dining area erupted in a chorus of groans and laughs as several islanders, including you and Rafe, took long sips from your glasses.

"Okay, spill!" Blake demanded, pointing at you. "Where was it?"

Before you could answer, Rafe's voice cut through the chatter, his eyes fixed intently on you. "Let me guess - some corporate team-building exercise got really out of hand?" His smirk was challenging, provocative.

"Never have I ever," Marcus interrupted quickly, sensing the mounting tension, "hooked up with someone just for their money."

Lilly's perfectly manicured hand hesitated halfway to her glass, earning several raised eyebrows. Rafe didn't move to drink, but his jaw clenched noticeably.

"Never have I ever," Aish continued, her dark eyes sparkling mischievously, "fantasized about someone else's partner in here."

The silence that followed was deafening, Rafe's fingers tightened around his glass before he deliberately raised it to his lips, maintaining eye contact with you as he drank.

James's arm around your waist tightened as Lilly's voice rose to a shrill pitch. "Rafe! What the hell?"

"It's just a game, babe," His eyes never left your face. "Besides, everyone's thinking about it. I'm just honest enough to admit it."

"Never have I ever," Lee jumped in, trying to diffuse the situation, "gotten fired from a job." He shot an apologetic look at you. "Sorry, but that story was too good not to bring up again."

"Never have I ever," Finn announced, "wanted to punch someone in this villa." His eyes darted between Rafe and James meaningfully.

Both men drank without hesitation, their mutual animosity barely concealed beneath the surface of forced civility. The other islanders watched with bated breath, waiting to see if this would be the moment the tension finally snapped.

"Never have I ever," Blake declared, her voice cutting through the thick atmosphere, "kissed someone just to make someone else jealous."

The game paused as everyone waited to see who would drink. The cameras captured every subtle glance and loaded moment as glasses were raised or remained untouched, telling stories without words.

The Love Island bedroom was dimly lit, filled with the soft sounds of sleeping contestants and the occasional rustle of sheets. Rafe lay rigid in his bed, hyper-aware of Lilly's presence beside him as she slept soundly, one arm draped possessively across his chest. The white silk sheets felt suffocating in the warm night, but that wasn't what kept him awake.

His eyes fixed on the ceiling, tracking the shadows cast by moonlight filtering through the villa's windows. Three beds over, he could make out your silhouette, your hair spilling across your pillow. James's muscled arm was wrapped around your waist, and the sight made Rafe's jaw clench involuntarily. His fingers twisted in the sheets, fighting the urge to get up and pace - a habit he'd developed during particularly bad nights back home.

You shifted in the bed, careful not to wake James as you adjusted your position. The thin black silk nightgown you wore rode up slightly, drawing Rafe's attention before he forced his gaze back to the ceiling.

Lilly stirred beside Rafe, murmuring his name as she pressed closer. He resisted the urge to push her away, instead lying perfectly still as memories of the day's events played through his mind. The pool race, the loaded glances during dinner, the way your dress had clung to you.

Across the room, you found yourself equally restless. James's arm felt heavy around your waist, his breath warm against your neck. But your thoughts kept drifting to blue eyes and gold rings, to the way Rafe had looked at you during the drinking game. You could feel his gaze on her even now, burning through the darkness that separated your beds.

The night stretched on endlessly, filled with unspoken tension and desires that couldn't be acted upon.

The morning sun streamed through the glam room windows as the girls went about their usual routines. You sat cross-legged in front of your vanity, carefully applying eyeshadow while Blake and Emma debated the merits of different self-tanner brands. Aish was attempting to teach Lilly how to properly contour when Rafe appeared in the doorway, a plate of elaborately prepared avocado toast in hand.

"Special delivery," he announced, his voice carrying that familiar hint of arrogance. He was already dressed for the day in fitted swim shorts and an unbuttoned linen shirt that showed off his chest. His gold rings caught the light as he handed Lilly the plate.

"Oh my god, babe!" Lilly squealed, abandoning her makeup to inspect the breakfast. "You actually cooked? This is like, so totally romantic!" She bounced excitedly, her pink silk robe fluttering around her thighs.

You caught Rafe's reflection in your mirror as he leaned against the doorframe, his eyes flickering between Lilly's excited chatter and your carefully neutral expression.

"I thought you didn't cook," Blake commented innocently, though her tone suggested nothing innocent about the observation. "Wasn't it just yesterday you were too good to help with dinner?"

"Maybe he's turning over a new leaf," Emma giggled, nudging Aish with her elbow.

Lilly took a big bite of the toast, making exaggerated sounds of appreciation. "This is amazing! See? My man can do anything he sets his mind to." She preened under Rafe's attention, though his gaze seemed more focused on the way your silk robe had slipped slightly off one shoulder.

"Anything?" Aish raised an eyebrow, her voice dripping with suggestion. "Like staying faithful to his partner, perhaps?"

Rafe's jaw clenched, his fingers drumming against the doorframe in that nervous tick of his. "Just wanted to make sure my girl was taken care of," he drawled, but his eyes betrayed him as they drifted once again to your reflection.

"How thoughtful," You finally spoke, your voice carefully neutral as you applied some lip gloss. "Though I have to wonder what inspired this sudden domestic gesture."

The unspoken challenge in your words hung heavy in the air. Lilly's excited chatter about the breakfast faded into background noise as Rafe and you held each other's gaze in the mirror, the intensity of your eye contact making the other girls shift uncomfortably.

"Sometimes," Rafe replied, his voice low and loaded with meaning, "a man just wants to show his appreciation." His emphasis on the word 'his' was subtle but unmistakable.

Blake coughed dramatically, breaking the moment. "Well, this has been fun, but I think we should finish getting ready. The boys are probably waiting by the pool."

"Right," Rafe straightened, his casual demeanor returning like a mask sliding back into place. "Enjoy your breakfast, babe." He dropped a quick kiss on Lilly's head before leaving, but not before one final glance at your reflection.

As his footsteps faded down the hallway, Emma let out a low whistle. "Girl," she addressed Lilly, who was still happily munching her toast, "I don't think that breakfast was meant for you."

You carefully closed your lipgloss tube, your expression unreadable.

The villa's backyard had been transformed into a makeshift stage, complete with a single chair positioned center stage and colorful strobe lights. The men sat lined up, shirtless and wearing heart rate monitors strapped to their chests, their nervous energy palpable. Rafe lounged in his designated spot, affecting an air of casual indifference despite the slight tension in his jaw.

Sarah stood beside an oversized wheel adorned with all the girls' names, her enthusiasm infectious as she addressed the group. "Alright, islanders! Time for our sexiest challenge yet - the Heart Rate Monitor! Let's see who can get these boys' hearts racing!"

James shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his tattooed arms crossed over his chest as he watched the wheel spin. The tension mounted as it slowly came to a stop, landing on your name.

"And our first dancer will be... Y/N! And she'll be dancing for..." Sarah spun a second wheel with the boys' names. The wheel turned seemingly endlessly before landing on Rafe's name with a decisive click. "Rafe!"

You walk over wearing a black lace bodysuit your skin gleamed under the stage lights. "Remember," Sarah announced, "the boy with the highest heart rate spike wins a special prize for himself and the girl who caused it!"

His eyes locked onto you with an intensity that made the air crackle with electricity, his hands gripping the sides of the chair with barely contained tension.

The opening notes of "Pony" by Ginuwine filled the air as you began to move. The heart rate monitor's steady beeping began to increase as you circled his chair, your fingers trailing across his shoulders.

"Oh my god," Emma whispered loudly enough for the microphones to catch. "His heart rate is already at 90!"

You move with fluid grace as you position yourself between Rafe's legs. His breathing visibly hitched as you rolled your body against his chest, your hands sliding up his arms to pin his wrists to the chair.

The monitor's beeping increased rapidly as you lowered yourself onto his lap, grinding slowly to the music. Rafe's mask of indifference cracked as you threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging his head back to expose his neck. His heart rate spiked to 120 when you traced your lips along his jaw, never quite making contact.

"Fucking hell," Marcus muttered, watching the numbers climb on the display. "Man's about to have a heart attack."

James's expression darkened as you executed a perfect body roll against Rafe's chest, your back arching as you pulled away only to drop back down onto his lap. The monitor hit 135 as Rafe's hands instinctively moved to your hips before you quickly pinned them back to the chair.

"No touching," you whispered, loud enough for the microphones to pick up. The smirk in your voice was evident as Rafe's heart rate jumped to 140.

Lilly stood fuming at the side of the stage, her face growing redder with each beep of the monitor. "This is ridiculous! She's obviously trying too hard!"

The song reached its climax as you performed one final grinding motion against Rafe's lap before pulling away completely, leaving him visibly affected in his seat. The monitor showed a final spike of 150 before beginning to slowly decrease.

"Well!" Sarah announced, barely containing her excitement. "I think we have our number to beat! Rafe's heart rate peaked at 150 - that's our highest spike yet!"

The cameras captured every reaction: Rafe's attempts to regain his composure, James's barely contained anger, Lilly's outrage, and your satisfied smirk. As the challenge continued, the tension in the villa's backyard reached a fever pitch. Lilly was up next, strutting onto the stage in a purple lingerie that left little to the imagination. Her dance for Rafe barely registered a 95 on the heart rate monitor.

"Next up," Sarah announced, trying to maintain the show's energy despite the growing drama, "let's see who's dancing for James!"

The wheel spun again, landing on Blake. Her performance was sultry but safe, earning a respectable 110 on James's monitor. But everyone noticed how his eyes kept drifting to where you stood with the other girls, your black lace bodysuit still drawing attention.

"This is such bullshit," Lilly hissed loud enough for the microphones to catch. "She obviously practiced that routine beforehand. Like, who even moves like that naturally?"

Emma, who had just finished a playful routine for Marcus that earned a 105, patted Lilly's shoulder sympathetically. "Hun, I don't think practice was what got his heart racing..."

The challenge continued with each girl taking their turn, but none came close to matching the spike you had caused in Rafe's heart rate.

"And now," Sarah declared as the final performances wrapped up, "it's time to announce our winners! With a heart rate spike of 150 beats per minute, Y/N and Rafe have won tonight's challenge!"

Rafe maintained his casual stance, but his eyes burned with intensity as he watched James's hands on your waist.

"Your prize," Sarah continued, "is a romantic dinner for two in the private dining area!" She paused for dramatic effect. "However, you'll each be taking your current partners, not each other."

The relief on James and Lilly's faces was palpable, but the cameras didn't miss the flash of disappointment that crossed both Rafe and your expressions.

"Congratulations," Rafe drawled as he passed you, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "Nice moves, life coach. Didn't know they taught that in corporate training."

Before you could respond, Lilly appeared at his side, practically dragging him toward the villa. James's arm tightened around your waist as he watched them go, the muscle in his jaw twitching with barely contained anger.

"Well," Blake commented to no one in particular, "dinner should be interesting."

Later that night after your dinner with James you made your way toward the outdoor daybed. The cameras tracked your movement through the darkness, catching the slight hesitation in your steps as you approached the familiar figure already lounging there.

Rafe sat with one leg propped up, his gold rings glinting in the moonlight as he absently twisted them around his fingers. He wore black silk pajama pants and a thin white t-shirt that did little to hide his frame. His blue eyes followed your approach, taking in your oversized t-shirt and sleep shorts.

"Couldn't sleep either?" he asked, his voice lacking its usual arrogant edge. The night seemed to have stripped away some of his carefully maintained facade, leaving something more raw and vulnerable in its place.

You settled onto the opposite end of the daybed, tucking your legs beneath you. "Too many thoughts," you admitted, your eyes studying his face in the dim light. "That dinner was..."

"Fucking awful," Rafe finished, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "Lilly wouldn't stop crying about the heart rate thing. Like I could control it or something." He paused, a bitter laugh escaping him. "Though I guess James wasn't much better?"

"He kept trying to prove something," you sighed, absently playing with the hem of your shirt. "Making sure everyone saw how 'together' we are. It was exhausting."

"My dad would love this," Rafe suddenly spoke, his voice taking on a harder edge. "His fuck-up son making a mess of things on national television. Another disappointment to add to the list."

Your training as a life coach kicked in automatically. "Tell me about him," you encouraged softly, recognizing the pain beneath his sarcasm.

Rafe was quiet for so long you thought he wouldn't answer. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. "Nothing's ever good enough for him. Sarah - my sister - she's the golden child. Can't do anything wrong. Me?" He laughed humorlessly. "I'm just the family embarrassment he has to keep cleaning up after."

"Is that why you..." you gestured vaguely at his chest, where his hand often went during moments of anxiety.

"The panic attacks?" Rafe's jaw clenched. "Started after Mom died. Dad remarried within a year - couldn't have the press thinking the great Ward Cameron was anything less than perfect." His fingers unconsciously moved to his chest as he spoke. "Rose tried, I guess. But she wasn't Mom."

The vulnerability in his voice made you shift closer instinctively. "My dad left when I was eight," you offered quietly. "Just... walked out one day and never came back. Mom had to work three jobs to keep us afloat."

Rafe's eyes met yours in the darkness, something shifting in their depths. "Is that why you became a life coach? Trying to fix broken people?"

"Maybe," you admitted. "Or maybe I'm just trying to fix myself."

"Sometimes," Rafe confessed, his voice rough with emotion, "I think about just walking away from all of it. The company, the expectations, the whole fucking Cameron legacy." His hands shook slightly as he ran them through his hair. "But then what would I be?"

You reached out without thinking, your hand covering his. "Sometimes the bravest thing we can do is choose ourselves."

The touch sent electricity through both of you, the chemistry you’d been fighting suddenly impossible to ignore. Rafe's fingers intertwined with yours, neither of you pulling away despite knowing you should. You listen intently as he talks about his drug addiction.

"It started after a particularly bad fight with Ward," he finally spoke, his voice rough. "He'd just promoted Sarah to junior executive, completely bypassing me. Again." His bitter laugh cut through the darkness. "Barry - this dealer I knew from college - he was at this party I went to. Said he had something that would make everything stop hurting for a while."

You remained silent, your thumb unconsciously stroking the back of his hand as he continued.

"First time was... fuck, it was like everything finally made sense, you know?" His eyes looked almost black in the darkness. "All the pressure, all the disappointment, all of Ward's fucking expectations - they just disappeared. For a few hours, I could breathe."

He pulled his hand away to run it through his hair. "But then you need more. And more. And suddenly you're calling Barry at 3 AM because you can't handle being in your skin without it."

"The holes in the walls," You spoke softly, understanding dawning in your eyes. "They weren't just about anger, were they?"

"Cocaine's a hell of a drug. Makes you feel invincible one minute, then you're punching walls the next because the crash is so fucking bad." His hands were shaking now, the gold rings catching the moonlight as he twisted them. "Ward tried to buy Barry off, of course. Throw money at the problem like always. But by then..."

"You were already addicted," You finished gently.

"Seven months clean now," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not that anyone in there would believe it." He gestured toward the villa where your fellow islanders slept. "Easier to just be the rich fuck-up everyone expects."

The weight of his confession hung heavy in the air between you. You shifted closer, drawn by an instinct to comfort that went beyond your professional training. The daybed creaked slightly under your combined weight.

"Is that why you came here?" You asked softly. "To prove something?"

"Maybe," he admitted, his vulnerability striking in its rawness. "Or maybe I'm just trying to escape Ward's shadow for a while. Fat lot of good that's doing." His bitter laugh held an edge of self-loathing. "Still fucking everything up, aren't I?"

Without thinking, you reached up to cup his face, forcing him to meet your eyes. "Hey, you're seven months clean. That's not nothing, Rafe. That's strength."

The touch seemed to break something in him. His hand came up to cover yours, his eyes intense with a mix of vulnerability and desire. You sat frozen in that moment, both of you acutely aware of how close you’d gotten.

The night stretched on as you continued talking, sharing pieces of yourselves you’d kept hidden from the cameras and other islanders. The weight of your respective partners sleeping inside the villa seemed to fade away.

The early morning sunlight filtered through the villa's kitchen windows as you and Rafe moved around each other with surprising synchronicity.

"Pass me those eggs," Rafe murmured, his voice still rough with sleep. He wore sweatpants and a white t-shirt, his hair adorably mussed from the few hours of sleep you’d managed after your late-night conversation.

You reached across him to grab the eggs. "I thought you didn't cook," you teased, referencing his earlier claims.

"I said I had people for that," he corrected, a genuine smile softening his usually sharp features. "Didn't say I couldn't." His hands moved with unexpected confidence as he diced vegetables for an omelet.

The kitchen was filled with the sizzle of bacon and the rich aroma of brewing coffee.

"You're doing it wrong," Rafe commented, moving behind you to adjust your grip on the whisk. His chest pressed against your back as he guided your hands in a circular motion. "Like this - it makes the eggs fluffier."

"Where did you really learn to cook?" You asked softly, aware of the sleeping islanders and not wanting to break the peaceful morning atmosphere. You began plating the first batch of omelets while Rafe handled the bacon.

His jaw tightened slightly before answering. "Mom taught me," he admitted quietly. "Before she got sick. Sunday mornings were our thing - just us in the kitchen while everyone else slept in."

Your hand found his arm, squeezing gently in understanding. The touch lingered longer than necessary, both of you hyper-aware of the contact.

The peaceful moment was interrupted by footsteps on the stairs. You moved apart naturally, though something intimate remained in the air between you both. Emma appeared first, her eyes widening at the spread of food.

"Oh my god, this smells amazing!" she exclaimed, though keeping her voice low for the others still sleeping.

More islanders began trickling in, drawn by the smell of breakfast. James appeared and Lilly wasn't far behind, immediately attaching herself to Rafe's arm.

"Babe, you made breakfast?" she squealed, too loud for the early hour. "That's so sweet!"

"Actually," You started, but Rafe caught your eye with a subtle shake of his head. You understood - let Lilly have this moment. Some truths were better kept between you like whispered confessions under starlight.

"Morning lovebirds," Finn called out as he descended the stairs, his camera dangling from his neck as usual. His eyes took in the domestic scene before him, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "Something smells amazing."

Marcus followed close behind, already in his workout gear. "Damn, who knew Richie Rich could cook?" He grabbed a plate, piling it high with eggs and bacon. "This is actually good, man."

"Don't sound so surprised," Rafe drawled, though his usual sharp edge was softened by the early morning atmosphere. He moved around you to reach the coffee pot, your bodies brushing in a way that didn't go unnoticed by the newcomers.

Aish entered next, her silk robe trailing elegantly behind her. "Mmm, proper breakfast for once instead of protein shakes," she teased, nudging Marcus playfully. Her dark eyes tracked the subtle dance between you and Rafe as you navigated the kitchen space.

"Is that fresh coffee?" Blake appeared, making a beeline for the pot. "Thank god. I thought I was going to have to suffer through another morning of instant." She accepted the mug Rafe handed her, raising an eyebrow at how naturally he and you worked together.

Lee stumbled in last, still half-asleep. "Food," he mumbled, dropping into a chair at the kitchen island. "Need food."

"Here," You handed him a plate of perfectly fluffy eggs, your movement bringing you close to Rafe again. Your fingers brushed as you reached for another plate, "So," Finn spoke up, his photographer's eye missing nothing, "how long have you two been up? Must have taken ages to prepare all this."

Lilly's grip on Rafe's arm tightened possessively. "My baby just wanted to do something nice for everyone, didn't you?"

"Actually-" You started again, but this time it was Blake who cut you off.

"Please, Lilly. We all know Rafe wasn't alone in this kitchen this morning." She took a deliberate sip of her coffee, her eyes moving between the two of you. "The question is, were you two up early... or just never went to sleep?"

The tension in the kitchen shifted as James's fork clattered against his plate. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Aish intervened smoothly, though her expression suggested otherwise. "Just that it's nice to see people getting along, isn't it?"

Marcus snorted into his orange juice. "Yeah, 'getting along' is one way to put it."

You busied yourself with cleaning up, very aware of Rafe's presence as he moved to help you despite Lilly's attempts to keep him by her side.

"These eggs are perfectly seasoned," Lee commented, oblivious to the tension or choosing to ignore it. "What's your secret?"

"Just something my mom taught me," Rafe replied quietly, his eyes meeting yours across the kitchen. The shared memory of your early morning conversation hung between you, invisible but palpable to everyone in the room.

"Your mom?" Lilly's voice rose an octave. "You never talk about her!"

The muscle in Rafe's jaw ticked as he turned away, focusing intently on wiping down the counter. You instinctively moved closer, your presence offering silent support that didn't go unnoticed by the others.

"Well," Finn broke the awkward silence, raising his coffee mug. "Here's to unexpected culinary talents and..." he paused meaningfully, "new connections."

The kitchen buzzed with unspoken tensions and growing suspicions as the islanders enjoyed their breakfast, each of them watching the subtle dance between you and Rafe with varying degrees of interest and concern.

The makeshift gym area buzzed with energy as the islanders gathered for their morning workouts. The sun catching the sweat is already beginning to glisten on toned bodies. Marcus had claimed the weight bench, showing off as he spotted for Lee who struggled with his final rep.

"Come on, man! Push through it!" Marcus encouraged his muscles on full display in a tight tank top. "You got this!"

Rafe occupied the pull-up bar, his movements controlled and precise as he executed perfect reps. His white tank clung to his chest with sweat, gold rings glinting as he gripped the bar. His eyes kept drifting to where you struggled with adjusting the resistance bands, clearly frustrated with the equipment.

"Here," Blake offered, moving to help you. "These things are tricky. You have to..." She demonstrated the proper technique, her athletic background evident in her form.

James paced near the dumbbells, his tattooed arms flexing as he curled weights that were clearly too heavy for proper form. His jaw clenched each time Rafe's gaze wandered toward you.

"Babe, can you help me?" Lilly whined from the yoga mat, her pink workout set more suitable for Instagram than actual exercise. "I can't get this pose right."

"Kind of busy," Rafe grunted, dropping from the bar with fluid grace. He grabbed his water bottle, deliberately moving past your station. "Your form's off," he commented, his voice low. "You're going to hurt your shoulder like that."

Emma bounced between machines, her endless energy making everyone else look lazy in comparison. "This is so fun! It's like we have our own private gym!" She attempted a burpee, nearly colliding with Finn who was trying to get the perfect shot of everyone working out.

"Watch it!" Aish called out, stepping back from her kettlebell swings. "Some of us are actually trying to exercise here."

The air grew thick with tension and sweat as the morning workout continued.

"Fuck!" You swore as the resistance band snapped back, catching your arm. The sharp sound drew everyone's attention, especially Rafe who moved instinctively toward you before catching himself.

"Let me see," James stepped in quickly, his possessive concern obvious. "You need to be more careful, babe."

"I'm fine," You brushed him off, irritation clear in your voice. "I can handle myself."

"Clearly," Rafe muttered, just loud enough to be heard. His smirk earned him a glare from James and an eye roll from you.

The workout continued, the villa's gym equipment getting a thorough use as the islanders pushed through their routines. Rafe and you kept finding reasons to occupy the same space, your respective partners grew increasingly agitated with each interaction.

Rafe had moved to the cable machine, deliberately positioning himself with a clear view of your struggle with the resistance bands. "You're still doing it wrong," he called out, his voice carrying that familiar mix of arrogance and amusement.

"Then why don't you show me?" You snapped back, frustration was evident in your voice as you untangled yourself from the equipment.

"Babe," James interrupted, stepping between them with dumbbells still in hand. "I can help you. You don't need-"

"Jesus!" Marcus's strained voice cut through the tension. The barbell wavered dangerously above his chest as Lee scrambled to help him. "Little help here?"

Rafe moved first, his quick reflexes getting him to the bench before anyone else. Together with Lee, they helped Marcus rack the weight safely.

"Fuck," Marcus gasped, sitting up with a sheepish grin. "Maybe I should stick to cooking."

"Maybe you should stick to your own workout," James muttered, still hovering near you who had returned to fighting with the resistance bands.

Lilly's voice carried across the gym, high-pitched and demanding. "Rafe! Come show me how to use these weights properly!"

"In a minute," Rafe replied absently, his attention still fixed on your increasingly frustrated attempts with the equipment. Without warning, he moved behind you, his hands covering yours on the bands. "Like this," he demonstrated, guiding you through the proper motion.

The air in the gym grew thick with tension as James watched Rafe's hands on your waist, adjusting your stance.

"I said I can handle it," You insisted, but you didn't pull away from Rafe's guidance.

"Clearly," Rafe's breath ghosted across your neck as he corrected your form again. "Just like you handled that band snapping earlier?"

"Rafe!" Lilly's voice had taken on a whining edge. "I need help too!"

"Better go," you murmured, finally stepping away from his touch. "Your girlfriend's calling."

The muscle in Rafe's jaw ticked as he watched you move to the other side of the gym, deliberately putting space between you. He turned back to the cable machine, his movements more aggressive than necessary.

"Show-off," Blake commented under her breath, but loud enough for the cameras to catch. She exchanged knowing looks with Aish as they continued their workouts.

The villa's backyard had been transformed into a spicy challenge arena. A long table was set up with ten chairs, each place setting containing a row of increasingly intimidating hot wings and a glass of milk. The cameras captured the nervous energy as the islanders took their assigned seats, Sarah Hyland standing at the head of the table with a stack of cards.

"Welcome to 'Spicy Confessions'!" Sarah announced, her enthusiasm infectious. "The rules are simple - answer the question truthfully, or eat a wing. Each round, the wings get spicier, and the questions get... spicier too!" She winked at the cameras.

Rafe lounged in his chair, affecting his usual air of casual indifference despite the way his fingers drummed against the table. He was seated directly across from you.

"First round!" Sarah held up a card. "These wings are seasoned with jalapeño - barely a warm-up. The question is... What's the most public place you've ever hooked up?"

Emma giggled nervously, eyeing the first wing. "Do we go in order, or...?"

"Let's start with..." Sarah made a show of choosing, "Rafe! Set the tone for us."

Rafe leaned forward, that familiar smirk playing at his lips. "Easy. The Met Gala bathroom, last year." His eyes locked with yours across the table. "Sometimes the most exclusive venues provide the best... opportunities."

"Babe!" Lilly squealed, hitting his arm playfully. "You never told me that story!"

"Probably because you weren't there," Blake muttered under her breath, earning a sharp look from Lilly.

"Y/N," Sarah continued, "your turn! Answer or eat?"

James's hand found your thigh under the table, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by the cameras - or by Rafe, whose jaw tightened slightly.

"Well," your voice carried across the table, a challenging glint in your eyes as you met Rafe's intense stare. "There was this corporate retreat in Aspen. The CEO had this private ski lodge with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the mountains..."

"Oh my god," Emma leaned forward eagerly, nearly knocking over her milk glass. "Please tell me you didn't!"

"Let's just say," You continued, your lips curving into a knowing smile, "the view wasn't the only thing that was breathtaking that weekend."

"Next question!" Sarah announced, flipping to a new card. The second row of wings glistened ominously with a deeper red sauce. "These babies are made with habanero peppers. And the question is... What's your biggest turn-on that you've never told your current partner?"

"Pass," Lee immediately reached for a wing, taking a brave bite before his eyes widened in panic. "Holy shit!" He grabbed for his milk, chugging it desperately as the others laughed.

"Rafe?" Sarah turned to him again, the cameras zooming in expectantly.

Rafe absently twisted his gold rings as he considered the question. "Power," he finally said, his voice low and deliberate. "I get off on having complete control."

Lilly shifted uncomfortably beside him. "But baby, I thought you said-"

"Moving on!" Sarah interrupted smoothly. "Blake?"

"Easy. Watching," Blake smirked, shooting a meaningful look between Rafe and you. "Especially when the people being watched don't know they're putting on a show."

The tension around the table thickened as more confessions spilled out. Marcus admitted to a thing for rope play, while Emma surprised everyone by confessing her love of public exhibition.

"Y/N," Sarah's voice cut through the charged atmosphere. "Your turn. What's that secret turn-on?"

"Control," you answered, your eyes meeting Rafe's directly. "But not having it - losing it. Completely." You paused deliberately. "To the right person."

"Next round!" Sarah's voice was almost too bright as she held up another card. The third row of wings glowed an alarming shade of orange. "These beauties are made with ghost peppers. And your question is... What's the most inappropriate thing you've ever fantasized about someone in this villa?"

"Fuck that," Marcus reached for a wing immediately but froze with it halfway to his mouth. "Actually... there was this one time in the shower when-"

"Just eat the damn wing," Aish interrupted, rolling her eyes. "Some of us would like to keep our breakfast down."

"Next question..." Sarah held up a new card, the late afternoon sun catching the sweat beading on everyone's foreheads from the previous rounds of spicy wings. "If someone other than your current partner is actually your ideal type in here - who is it and why? Or face the ghost pepper wings."

"I'll go first," Blake offered, breaking the awkward silence. "Marcus, sorry babe, but Lee's actually more my type. Those surfer vibes just do something for me." She shrugged apologetically at Marcus, who took the confession with good humor.

The question continued around the table, some islanders choosing to brave the wings rather than admit their true attractions. Emma confessed to having a crush on Finn, while Aish admitted she found Marcus's chef skills irresistibly attractive.

When it came to your turn you straightened in your chair, very aware of James's presence beside you. Your eyes met Rafe's across the table, holding his gaze as you spoke.

"Rafe," you stated simply, your voice steady despite the way James's entire body tensed beside you. "He's exactly my type - damaged, complicated, with just enough danger to make it interesting."

"Plus, I've always had a thing for guys who think they're unfixable."

The silence that followed your confession was deafening. Lilly's face had turned an alarming shade of red, while James's grip on his glass was so tight it looked in danger of shattering.

"Your turn, Rafe," Sarah prompted, the cameras catching every nuance of the charged moment. “Tell us who’s your type or what’s your biggest regret so far?”

His eyes never left your face as he spoke. "My biggest regret here was the safe choice instead of going after what I really wanted."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lilly's voice had risen to a near-shriek. "I'm right here!"

"It means," Rafe continued, still holding your gaze, "that sometimes playing it safe isn't worth the price of denying what you really need."

"Well!" Sarah's voice was overly bright as she tried to diffuse the situation. "That was... enlightening! Next question-"

"No," James stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the patio tiles. "I think we've heard enough 'enlightening' confessions for one day." His voice was tight with barely controlled anger as he stormed away from the table.

"James!" You called after him but made no move to follow. Your eyes returned to Rafe's, the heat between you palpable even across the table.

"Drama!" Emma stage-whispered to Finn, who was busy capturing every moment with his camera. "This is better than any reality show I've ever watched!"

Lilly tugged desperately at Rafe's arm. "Baby, you didn't mean that, right? Tell me you didn't mean that!"

But Rafe's attention remained fixed on you, his expression intense with something that went beyond mere attraction. It was clear that the real heat in the villa had nothing to do with ghost peppers.

That night, the flickering flames cast dancing shadows across the villa's fire pit area as the islanders gathered for what Sarah had cryptically called a "special surprise." The men sat blindfolded, their partners beside them on the curved benches.

"Islanders!" Sarah's voice carried across the space. "Tonight, we're shaking things up. Boys, keep those blindfolds on tight!"

The sound of heels clicking on stone drew everyone's attention to the villa entrance. Tessa emerged, dressed in green lace lingerie. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her back, catching the firelight as she moved with deliberate sensuality.

"Holy shit," Blake whispered, loud enough for the microphones to catch. "She's not playing around."

You shifted uncomfortably next to James, very aware of how Rafe sat directly across from you, his blindfolded face turned in your direction despite not being able to see. Lilly's grip on his arm had become almost desperate.

"Boys," Sarah continued, "you're about to meet our newest bombshell. Tessa, why don't you tell us what brought you here?"

Tessa's voice was honey-sweet with an underlying edge as she circled the fire pit, her fingers trailing across each blindfolded man's shoulders. "Well, Sarah, I've had my eye on one particular islander from the start." She paused behind Rafe, her hands sliding down his chest. "I always get what I want, and what I want is sitting right here."

Tessa leaned down to whisper something in Rafe's ear, her lips brushing against his skin. The muscle in his jaw ticked, but he remained still under her touch.

"And what exactly do you see in Rafe?" Sarah prompted, though the question seemed redundant given how Tessa's hands continued to explore his shoulders.

"Where do I start?" She moved to stand in front of him. "The bad boy exterior hiding daddy issues? The complicated relationship with authority? The addiction struggles?" She smiled predatorily. "I work in addiction counseling. I know exactly how to... handle cases like his."

Your hands clenched in your lap, your professional mask slipping slightly at Tessa's casual mention of Rafe's personal struggles. "You can remove your blindfolds now, boys," Sarah announced with barely contained glee.

The reaction was immediate. Lee whistled low under his breath while Marcus muttered a quiet "damn." But all eyes were on Rafe as he took in Tessa's appearance, his expression unreadable behind his usual mask of indifference.

"Like what you see?" Tessa asked, deliberately positioning herself between Rafe and your line of sight.

"Seen better," Rafe drawled, but his voice held an edge that the cameras quickly focused on. His eyes kept trying to find you around Tessa's deliberately positioned form.

Tessa made herself comfortable on the bench next to Rafe, forcing Lilly to scoot over. "Well," she smiled, "you'll be seeing a lot more of me. Sarah, should I tell them the best part?"

"Go ahead," Sarah encouraged, clearly enjoying the mounting tension.

"Tonight," Tessa announced, her hand finding its way to Rafe's thigh, "I get to steal one of you for a private date in the Hideaway. And I think we all know who I'm choosing."

"Rafe," Tessa's voice cut through the night air as she stood from the fire pit, extending her manicured hand toward him. "Let's have that chat, shall we?"

"This is bullshit!" Lilly exploded the moment they were out of earshot, her voice rising to a pitch that made several people wince. "She can't just come in here and-"

"And what?" Blake cut in, raising an eyebrow. "Do exactly what you did to Y/N when you picked Rafe at the first coupling?" The cameras caught you slightly flinching at the reminder.

Emma tried to diffuse the situation, her perpetual cheerfulness somewhat strained. "Come on, guys. It's just a chat. It's not like-"

"Not like what?" Lilly snapped, mascara already starting to run. "Not like she's practically naked? Not like she's obviously trying to steal my man?"

James shifted closer to you on the bench, his arm sliding around your waist in what appeared to be comfort but felt more like possession. "Maybe some people's men are worth stealing," he muttered, just loud enough for the microphones to catch.

Tessa led Rafe to the day beds, her body language deliberately seductive as she settled beside him. Even from a distance, the islanders could see how she kept touching him - a hand on his arm, fingers trailing across his chest, playing with his gold rings.

"I can't watch this," Lilly stood abruptly, wobbling slightly in her heels. "This is... this is just..."

"Karma?" Aish suggested sweetly, earning a death glare from Lilly.

You remained silent, your eyes fixed on the scene unfolding at the day beds.

"You're being awfully quiet," Blake observed, studying your face. "No professional insight into this situation, life coach?"

Before you could respond, a burst of laughter carried across from the day beds - Tessa's, high and deliberately performative. The sound made Lilly sink back onto the bench, tears now flowing freely.

"I mean," Marcus spoke up, trying to be diplomatic, "she is fit. And she seems... interested in helping with his issues."

"Oh please," Blake scoffed. "The only thing she's interested in 'helping' with is getting him out of those shorts."

Your fingers tightened around your glass at Blake's words, though your face remained carefully neutral. "Well," Finn mused, his photographer's eye taking in the whole scene, "this should make for some interesting footage. The addiction counselor and the recovering addict - it's like a bad romance novel."

"Or a tragedy waiting to happen," You muttered, speaking for the first time since Tessa had arrived.

The daybed creaked softly as Tessa shifted closer to Rafe, her perfume - something expensive and deliberately chosen - filling the space between them.

"So," her voice has an underlying edge, "tell me about your recovery. It must be so hard, being in here with all these... temptations." Her emphasis on the last word made it clear she wasn't talking about substances.

Rafe's jaw ticked, but his usual sharp retort died on his lips as Tessa's hand found its way to his thigh. Her touch was different from Lilly's desperate clutching - more assured, more knowing. "What makes you think you know anything about my recovery?"

"Please," Tessa laughed, the sound carrying deliberately across to the fire pit. "I've worked with enough addicts to recognize the signs. The way you fidget with those rings when you're anxious, how you rub your chest during moments of stress..." Her fingers trailed up his arm. "The constant need for control, yet the desperate desire to lose it with the right person."

Rafe's eyes flickered toward the fire pit, seeking your silhouette before Tessa deliberately blocked his view. "And you think you're the right person?" His voice held its usual sarcasm, but there was something else there too - a hint of genuine curiosity.

"I know how to handle men like you. The ones who push everyone away because they're scared of being seen. The ones who use anger and arrogance to hide their pain."

"The ones who need someone who understands their demons." Rafe's breath hitched slightly as Tessa's hand moved higher on his thigh. Her words were hitting closer to home than he'd like to admit, striking chords that you had first exposed during their late-night conversation.

"And what about Lilly?" He asked, though his tone suggested he didn't really care about the answer.

Tessa's laugh was dismissive. "Please. We both know she's not equipped to handle someone like you. She wants the bad boy image without the complicated reality behind it." Her fingers found the nape of his neck, playing with his hair. "I, on the other hand, specialize in complicated realities."

Her words were perfectly chosen, each touch deliberately placed to break down Rafe's defenses.

"I could help you," she murmured, her lips dangerously close to his. "Really help you, not just play at being your savior like some people." Her pointed glance toward the fire pit made it clear who she meant.

Rafe's hand found her waist almost unconsciously, drawn in by her promises of understanding and acceptance. Tessa had done her homework well, knowing exactly which buttons to push, and which wounds to probe. And despite himself, Rafe found his carefully constructed walls beginning to crack under her expert assault.

Time passed as Tessa made her way over as the tension around the fire pit crackled. The islanders watched as she positioned herself next to Sarah, her lingerie still managing to catch every eye despite the hours that had passed.

"Well," Sarah's voice carried across the space, heavy with anticipation. "Tessa, you've had the chance to chat with all our boys. Time to make your choice for that private date in the Hideaway."

Lilly had practically melded herself to Rafe's other side, her mascara-stained face a stark contrast to Tessa's perfectly maintained appearance. You sat rigidly beside James, your eyes fixed on some point in the distance as if trying to detach yourself from the situation.

"It's not really much of a choice, is it? From the moment I walked in, I knew exactly who I wanted."

"Rafe, obviously."

"Rafe," Sarah turned to him, "How do you feel about spending the night in the Hideaway with our new bombshell?"

His blue eyes flickered briefly toward you before settling back on Tessa. "Why not?" His trademark smirk slid into place, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Could be interesting."

"Interesting?" Lilly's voice rose several octaves. "That's all you have to say? After everything we've-"

"Babe," Tessa cut her off smoothly, "it's just a date. Though..." her hand trailed down Rafe's chest suggestively, "I can't promise we'll stick to just talking."

"Well then," Sarah clapped her hands together, clearly delighting in the drama. "Rafe, why don't you go get ready? Tessa will meet you in the Hideaway in thirty minutes."

As Rafe stood to leave, Tessa pulled him down for a deliberately passionate kiss, making sure everyone - especially you - had a clear view. His hands remained at his sides, not quite participating but not pulling away either.

"Don't keep me waiting too long," She released him, her voice carrying clearly across the fire pit.

The night air grew thick with tension as Rafe disappeared into the villa.

The islanders gathered for breakfast, the tension from the previous night still hanging heavy in the air. Lilly sat at the counter, her eyes red and puffy from crying, while the others tried to maintain some semblance of normalcy.

"This is all your fault," Lilly suddenly spat, her voice cracking as she pointed an accusatory finger at you. "If you hadn't been throwing yourself at him during that stupid spicy challenge-"

"Excuse me?" You set down your coffee cup with deliberate control, though your hands shook slightly. "I'm not the one who chose to go to the Hideaway with someone else."

Blake and Emma exchanged worried glances while Marcus continued flipping pancakes, trying to appear absorbed in his cooking.

"Oh, please!" Lilly's voice rose higher. "We all saw how you've been looking at him! Those late-night conversations, the workout flirting, the breakfast cooking together - you've been trying to steal him from day one!"

"That's rich," Blake interjected, coming to your defense. "Considering how you coupled up with him in the first place. Or did you forget snatching him away from Y/N on day one?"

James, who had been silently brooding beside you, suddenly spoke up. "Maybe if Rafe wasn't such a fucking player, none of this would be happening."

"Don't you dare," Lilly whirled on him. "This isn't about Rafe! It's about your girlfriend being a homewrecking-"

"Careful," Your voice cut through the kitchen like ice. "Think very carefully about what you're about to say."

Aish leaned against the counter, watching the drama unfold. "Oh honey, if anyone's doing any homewrecking, it's that blonde bombshell upstairs currently wrapped around your man."

"She's not wrapped around anyone," Finn corrected, unable to help himself. "Rafe came back down after an hour. Apparently, they just talked."

"Then why isn't he down here?" Lilly demanded. "Why is he avoiding me?"

"Maybe because you're acting crazy?" Lee suggested, immediately regretting his words as Lilly turned her fury on him.

"I'm acting crazy? My boyfriend just spent the night with another woman, and everyone's acting like I'm the problem!" Tears started flowing again. "And it's all because she," she jabbed a finger at you again, "had to go and admit he was her type!"

"At least she was honest," Blake shot back. "Unlike some people who pretend they're okay with their partner clearly wanting someone else."

James stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh come on," Emma finally joined in, her usual cheerfulness replaced with exasperation. "We all see how Rafe looks at Y/N. And how she looks at him. And how you and Lilly are both trying to pretend it's not happening."

The kitchen erupted into chaos as everyone started talking at once. The cameras panned frantically between faces as accusations flew and alliances formed. Marcus abandoned his pancakes to hold back Lee, who looked ready to physically intervene as James stepped threateningly toward Finn.

"Enough!" Your voice cut through the noise. You stood slowly, your composure cracking slightly. "I'm done being everyone's scapegoat. Rafe made his choice last night - multiple choices, actually. None of them involved me or you," you looked pointedly at Lilly. "So maybe instead of blaming everyone else, you should ask yourself why he's so eager to explore other options."

The silence that followed your outburst was deafening. Your hands trembled slightly as you walked out of the kitchen, leaving behind a group of stunned islanders and a breakfast that had gone cold in the wake of their confrontation.

The sound of footsteps on the villa's stairs drew everyone's attention as Rafe appeared in the kitchen doorway, his hair still messy from sleep. He wore sweatpants and no shirt, his gold rings catching the morning light. Tessa followed close behind, wearing one of his t-shirts like a trophy.

"What the fuck is going on down here?" Rafe's voice cut through the tense atmosphere as he took in the scene - Lilly's tear-stained face, James's aggressive stance, and the obvious divide among the islanders. "I could hear the shouting from upstairs."

"Oh, just your girlfriend having a complete meltdown," Blake supplied helpfully, earning a death glare from Lilly. "Apparently, it's Y/N’s fault you chose to spend the night with Barbie over there."

Tessa's perfectly manicured hand found its way to Rafe's bare chest, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed. "Where is Y/N, anyway?"

"She left," Emma explained, fidgeting nervously with her coffee cup. "After Lilly accused her of trying to steal Rafe and-"

"She what?" Rafe's voice dropped dangerously low, the muscle in his jaw ticking. His eyes fixed on Lilly with an intensity that made her shrink back slightly.

"Baby, I can explain," Lilly started, her voice wavering. "It's just... the way you two are always looking at each other, and then that confession during the challenge-"

"So you decided to attack her?" Rafe stepped forward, shrugging off Tessa's touch. "Make her responsible for your insecurities?"

Tessa’s confident smile faltered slightly. This clearly wasn't how she'd planned the morning going."I'm not insecure!" Lilly protested, fresh tears spilling. "I'm trying to protect what's mine!"

"Yours?" Rafe's laugh was harsh. "When exactly did I become your property, Lilly? When you picked me first? When you decided to ignore every sign that this wasn't working?"

James pushed off from the counter where he'd been brooding. "Rich coming from you. Playing with both of them while you've got a new toy upstairs."

"Careful," Rafe's warning was soft but deadly serious. "You might want to think about why your girlfriend's name keeps coming up in conversations about me."

Marcus and Lee moved closer, ready to intervene if necessary. "Nothing happened upstairs," He continued, his voice carrying clearly. "We talked. That's it. Because, unlike some people, I actually give a fuck about not hurting people unnecessarily."

"Could've fooled me," Lilly sniffled. "You didn't seem to care about hurting me when you were confessing your regrets during the challenge."

"Maybe because they were true?" Rafe's words fell like bombs in the quiet kitchen. "Maybe because I'm tired of pretending this is something it's not?"

Tessa stepped forward, trying to salvage the situation. "Rafe, baby, let's go back upstairs and-"

"Don't," he cut her off sharply. "This isn't about you. This isn't even about Lilly anymore." His eyes scanned the kitchen. "Where did Y/N go?"

"The beach," Finn supplied, ignoring the warning looks from several islanders. "She headed down to the water."

Without another word, Rafe turned and strode toward the villa's exit, leaving behind a stunned kitchen full of islanders.

"Well," Blake broke the silence, reaching for the coffee pot. "I guess we know whose side he's on."

The sound of waves crashing against the shore provided cover as Rafe reached behind his back, yanking off his microphone pack and tossing it onto the sand. His eyes fixed on you near the water's edge, your hair whipping in the ocean breeze.

You stood with your arms wrapped around you as you stared out at the horizon. You didn't turn when you heard his footsteps in the sand, but your body tensed slightly, recognizing his presence.

"If you've come to defend your girlfriend's tantrum, save it," Your voice carried over the sound of the waves, deliberately steady despite the emotion underneath. "I'm not interested in being everyone's villain."

Rafe moved closer, positioning himself beside you but not touching.

"She's not my girlfriend," he stated simply, his voice rough. "Not anymore. Maybe she never really was."

The wind whipped around you, carrying the salt spray and the weight of unspoken words. You finally turned to look at him, your eyes meeting his blue ones with an intensity that the cameras, even from their distance, couldn't miss.

"What are you doing, Rafe?" Your question held layers of meaning - about Lilly, about Tessa, about the growing tension between you that neither could deny.

"Something I should have done from the start," he moved closer, his body angling toward yours like a compass finding north. "Stop playing it safe. Stop pretending I don't feel what I feel."

The ocean crashed behind you, providing a dramatic backdrop as Rafe reached out, his hand hovering near your face but not quite touching. The sun caught his gold rings, creating patterns of light that danced across your skin.

"And what exactly do you feel?" Your voice was barely above a whisper, your body moved slightly toward his, drawn by the same magnetic pull that had been there since day one.

"You know exactly what I feel," Rafe's voice dropped lower, more intense. "You've known since that first night. Since every fucking moment after." His hand finally made contact, fingers brushing your cheek with a gentleness that contradicted his usual sharp edges.

The beach stretched empty around you, the distant villa forgotten as the space between you charged with electricity.

"This is a mistake," You breathed, but you didn't pull away from his touch. "The villa, the cameras, James, Lilly, Tessa-"

"Fuck the villa," Rafe cut you off, his other hand coming up to frame your face. "Fuck the cameras. Fuck all of it." His thumbs traced your cheekbones as he held your gaze. "The only mistake was denying this for so long."

The waves provide a rhythmic soundtrack to your moment of truth. But was soon interrupted by a text about a new challenge.

The sun hung low on the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant shades of orange and pink as the islanders gathered in a circle on the beach. The tension from the morning's drama still lingered in the air as they settled onto the sand, carefully maintaining space between certain couples.

"Alright, islanders!" Sarah's voice carried across the beach. "Time for Beach or Deep! The rules are simple - when the bottle lands on you, you choose Beach for light and flirty, or Deep for the real tea!"

The glass bottle glinted in the sunset as it spun, eventually slowing to point at Blake. The cameras zoomed in on her confident smirk as she considered her options.

"Deep," she declared without hesitation. "Let's start this right."

Sarah pulled out a card. "Who in the villa do you think is playing the biggest game?"

Blake's eyes swept the circle deliberately before landing on Tessa. "Our newest bombshell, obviously. Coming in here pretending to be some sort of addiction counselor savior when we all know she's just trying to create drama for the cameras."

Tessa's perfectly maintained smile tightened slightly. "Interesting theory from someone who's been trying to get with Lee behind Marcus's back."

The bottle spun again before the argument could escalate, landing on Emma. "Beach!" she chirped quickly, trying to diffuse the tension.

"Give your best cheesy pickup line to the islander of your choice," Sarah read.

Emma turned to Finn with an exaggerated wink. "Are you a camera? Because every time I look at you, I smile!"

The groan that went around the circle was interrupted by the bottle's next spin, landing on Rafe. "Deep," his voice carried that familiar edge of danger. The other islanders shifted nervously, aware of the morning's unresolved drama.

Sarah's smile was almost predatory as she read the card. "Have you caught feelings for someone else's partner?"

The beach seemed to hold its breath as Rafe's blue eyes locked with you.

"Yes," he stated simply, his voice carrying clearly across the circle. The bottle spun again, this time landing on you. The sunset cast dramatic shadows across your face as you considered your options, very aware of Rafe's intense gaze.

"Deep," you finally decided, your voice steady despite the charged atmosphere.

"Reveal your biggest villa secret," Sarah read, barely containing her excitement.

Your eyes met Rafe's across the circle as you spoke. "The night after the heart rate challenge, I couldn't sleep. I went outside and found someone else there too. We talked until sunrise about things we've never told anyone else." You paused deliberately. "And every night since I've gone back hoping to find them there again."

The game continued as the sun sank lower, the bottle spun again, catching the last rays of sunlight as it landed on Rafe. The tension around the circle thickened as he leaned forward, his gold rings glinting in the dying light.

"Beach," he drawled, though his blue eyes held something deeper as they fixed on you across the circle.

Sarah's smile was wicked as she read the card. "Kiss the islander you find most attractive. And make it count - we want to see some real passion!"

"Finally," Blake muttered under her breath, loud enough for the microphones to catch. "About damn time."

Rafe crossed the circle with deliberate steps, his intention clear in every movement. James started to shift protectively closer to you, but your hand on his arm stopped him. The sunset painted everything in shades of gold and red as Rafe reached down, pulling you to your feet.

"Been wanting to do this since day one," he murmured, just loud enough for the nearby microphones to pick up. His hand came up to cup your face, thumb tracing your cheekbone with unexpected gentleness.

The beach seemed to hold its breath as Rafe leaned in, his other hand sliding into your hair. The kiss started soft, almost tentative - a stark contrast to his usual aggressive demeanor. But as your hands found their way to his chest, something shifted.

The kiss deepened, becoming something raw and desperate. Rafe's fingers tightened in your hair as you pressed closer, both of you forgetting about your audience, about your partners, about everything except this moment you’d been denying yourself.

"Jesus Christ," Emma whispered, fanning herself. "Is it getting hot out here?"

When you finally broke apart, both breathing heavily, the sunset had painted the sky in deeper shades of purple and red. Rafe's forehead rested against yours for a moment, his hands still tangled in your hair.

"Fuck," he breathed, his voice rough with emotion. The microphones barely caught his next words, meant only for you. "This changes everything."

"Well," Sarah's voice carried across the beach, heavy with satisfaction. "I think that answers quite a few questions, doesn't it?"

The night was settling in around you as Rafe and you returned to your spots in the circle, though something fundamental had shifted in the villa's dynamic. The game continued, but no one could focus on the questions anymore - not after witnessing what had clearly been more than just a dare.

Rafe's eyes kept finding yours across the circle and you touched your lips unconsciously throughout the rest of the game.

The villa's glam room buzzed with nervous energy as the girls prepared for the recoupling ceremony. The air was thick with hairspray and perfume as they flitted between mirrors and makeup stations, their conversations a mix of excitement and anxiety.

You stood at your designated area, rifling through your suitcase with uncharacteristic excitement. Your fingers brushed against the silky material of your chosen dress - a deep burgundy number that hugged you. The kiss on the beach still lingered on your lips, making you smile softly at your reflection.

"Someone's in a good mood," Blake observed, applying another coat of mascara. "That kiss must have been even better than it looked."

Tessa's perfectly manicured hand paused midway through applying lipstick. "Don't get too excited, honey. The night's not over yet." Her voice carried a sharp edge beneath its sweetness.

"Oh please," Emma chimed in, wrestling with her curling iron. "After that beach display, we all know where this is heading. Even Lilly must see it by now."

As if summoned by her name, Lilly emerged from the bathroom, her eyes still red and puffy despite layers of concealer. "You're all acting like it's some great love story," she sniffled. "When really, it's just Y/N stealing someone else's man. Again."

Your hands stilled on your dress. "I haven't stolen anything," you replied calmly, though your grip on the silk tightened. "And maybe if you spent less time playing victim and more time actually seeing what's in front of you-"

"What's in front of me?" Lilly's voice rose sharply. "You mean how you've been throwing yourself at him since day one? How you manipulate him with all those late-night talks about his addiction?"

"That's enough," Blake stepped between you two, her dress half-zipped. "We all saw what happened on that beach. That wasn't manipulation - that was something real."

Aish nodded from her position at the vanity. "Girl, that kiss had more chemistry than my entire science degree. And trust me, I would know."

You turned back to your suitcase, pulling out your heels as the other girls continued their debate. Your hands trembled slightly as you laid out your outfit - the dress, the shoes, the delicate gold jewelry that would complement Rafe's rings.

"You know," Tessa spoke up again, her voice carrying clearly across the room, "it's interesting how quickly some people forget their partners when something shiny and new catches their eye. James has been nothing but loyal to you, Y/N. But I guess that doesn't matter when there's a bad boy to fix, right?"

The room fell silent as you slowly straightened, meeting Tessa's gaze in the mirror. "You want to talk about loyalty? How about coming into the villa specifically targeting someone else's partner? At least I didn't have to strip down to my lingerie to get Rafe's attention."

"One of us is definitely going home tonight," Emma voiced what they were all thinking, nervously adjusting her dress straps in the mirror. "With Tessa here now, someone's getting dumped."

You smoothed down your dress, watching the other girls' reactions in the mirror. "It won't be Y/N," Blake stated matter-of-factly, applying another coat of lipstick. "Not after that kiss. Rafe's made his choice pretty clear."

Tessa's laugh was sharp as she adjusted her deliberately revealing white dress. "Has he though? Men say a lot of things in the heat of the moment. Trust me, I know exactly what kind of conversation we had in the Hideaway last night."

"Oh please," Aish rolled her eyes, fastening her earrings. "You mean the conversation that lasted all of an hour before he came back downstairs? That really sounds like true love."

"This isn't fair! I've been with him since day one. We were happy before she," Lilly jabbed a finger at you, "started playing her mind games!"

"Happy?" Blake scoffed, turning from her mirror. "Girl, he's been looking at Y/N like she hung the moon since the moment she walked in. The only person who couldn't see it was you."

Emma tried to diffuse the situation, ever the peacemaker. "Maybe we should focus on looking our best? I mean, it's not just about Rafe. Any of the guys could switch things up tonight."

"Right," Tessa's smile was predatory as she adjusted her cleavage. "James seemed pretty interested in our chat earlier. Maybe he's ready for someone who won't abandon him for the first broken bad boy that comes along."

Your hands stilled on your jewelry. "Careful, Tessa. Your desperation is showing." Your voice was calm but carried an edge that made the other girls shift nervously.

"At least I'm honest about what I want," Tessa shot back. "I don't pretend to be some noble life coach while stealing other people's partners."

"The only thing you're honest about is your push-up bra," Blake muttered, earning a few nervous giggles.

Your confidence seemed to grow with each passing moment, while Lilly's anxiety manifested in increasingly frantic makeup touch-ups.

"Ten minutes, ladies!" A producer's voice called through the door.

"Well," Aish stood, smoothing down her dress. "I guess we're about to find out who's going home and who's staying to fight another day."

"May the best woman win," Tessa's voice carried across the room as they prepared to leave, though her eyes fixed challengingly on you.

"Oh honey," Blake linked arms with you as you headed for the door. "I think she already has."

The fire pit crackled with tension as the islanders gathered for the recoupling ceremony. The girls stood in a line, their evening wear glinting in the firelight while the boys sat on the curved benches, their faces illuminated by the dancing flames. Sarah stood at the head of the fire pit, her expression promising drama.

"Islanders," Sarah's voice carried across the night air. "Tonight's recoupling will determine who stays in the villa and who goes home. Boys, you have the power. When I call your name, please stand and tell us who you want to couple up with, and why."

"Rafe," She called first, a knowing smile playing at her lips. "You're up."

The fire cast dramatic shadows across Rafe's face as he stood, his blue eyes intense in the flickering light. His gold rings caught the flames as he ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of barely contained emotion rather than his usual arrogance.

"The girl I want to couple up with," he began, his voice carrying clearly across the pit, "is someone I should have chosen from the start. Someone who sees past all my bullshit, who isn't afraid to call me out when I'm being an ass." His eyes found you across the flames. "Someone who makes me want to be better, even though that fucking terrifies me."

"She's the first person I've ever met who makes me want to face my demons instead of running from them. Who doesn't try to fix me, but makes me want to fix myself." He paused, his intensity making the moment electric. "The girl I want to couple up with is Y/N."

The fire pit crackled in the silence that followed as you stepped forward, your eyes never leaving Rafe's. The burgundy dress caught the light as you moved, creating the illusion of flames dancing across your skin.

"Took you long enough," You murmured as you reached him, just loud enough for the nearby microphones to catch.

Rafe's hand found your waist as you settled beside him, his touch possessive yet gentle. The cameras didn't miss how perfectly you fit together, or how his thumb traced small circles on your hip - a gesture that seemed unconscious yet intimate.

"James," Sarah's voice cut through the moment. "You're next."

The tension ratcheted up another notch as James stood, his expression barely contained with fury. His eyes lingered on you for a moment before sliding to where Tessa stood, her white dress practically glowing in the firelight.

"Well," his voice carried an edge that made several islanders shift uncomfortably. "Seems like loyalty doesn't mean much here anymore." His gaze lingered pointedly on you, who remained steady under Rafe's protective arm.

"The girl I want to couple up with," James continued, his tone shifting to something calculated, "is someone who knows what she wants and isn't afraid to go after it. Someone who understands the value of... professional expertise." His eyes fixed on Tessa, whose white dress seemed to glow against the night sky.

"I choose Tessa," he declared, watching your reaction from the corner of his eye. "At least she's honest about her intentions."

"Thanks, baby," she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "I promise you won't regret it."

The recoupling continued as Marcus chose Blake, Lee picked Emma, and Finn selected Aish, leaving Lilly standing alone in her pink dress, mascara-stained tears tracking down her cheeks.

"Lilly," Sarah's voice held false sympathy. "I'm sorry, but as you weren't chosen, your time in the villa has come to an end. You have thirty minutes to pack your bags and say your goodbyes."

Your slight flinch of guilt was quickly soothed by Rafe's tightening grip on your waist, Tessa's had a triumphant smirk as she pressed closer to James, and the varying expressions of shock and satisfaction among the other islanders.

"This isn't fair," Lilly's voice cracked as she looked pleadingly at Rafe. "We were happy. We were good together until she-"

"Don't," Rafe cut her off, his voice firm but not unkind. "We both know that's not true. We were never really together, Lilly. Not in the way that mattered."

The night air grew thick with tension as Lilly's sobs echoed across the fire pit. The other islanders began to move, some following Lilly to help her pack, others lingering to watch the aftermath of the dramatic recoupling.

"Well," Blake muttered to Emma as they headed inside. "I guess we know who the real player in the villa is now." Her meaningful glance toward Tessa and James.

You turned in Rafe's arms, your eyes meeting his blue ones in the firelight. "You okay?" You asked softly, your hand coming up to rest on his chest.

"Better than okay," he murmured, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw. "For the first time since coming here, everything feels... right."

223 notes · View notes

transformers-spike · 23 days ago

Note

hey! been reading all your stuff and absolutely love what you do. i got an idea regarding team prime having their first christmas party at the base (june insisted), and they’re each introduced to the concept of kissing under mistletoe

I'm going for something where the reader is already in a relationship with the bot of choice. It's mostly just cute interactions with a hint of spice mid post.

Optimus takes it rather well considering… everything. He’s got a team to lead, a dead planet on his conscience and a homoerotic rivalry with his ex-best friend/murderous dictator who’s obsessed with him. Life could be a lot better right now. But it also could be a lot worse. He’s content watching from the sidelines as his fellow Autobots enjoy a new part of Earth culture. Don’t mind him, he’ll join in once his work is done. For now the best he can do is flash you an encouraging smile as you fail to string out the Christmas lights for the fifth time in a row – you can do it, he believes in you. He tries his best to seem oblivious when you climb the ladder June is holding still (the ultimate wingwoman), keeping a close optic behind the terminal just in case things go south and he has to catch you. When you call his name with the goofiest smile on your face, he beams at you, equal parts pride and cute aggression. “Hey,” you drawl, doing your best to seem as charming as possible while holding on for dear life on the only thing stopping you from plummeting to the ground. “So there’s this Christmas tradition you may not have heard about…” He attentively listens to the explanation, nodding his helm and faking surprise when he hears what mistletoes entail. His spark stutters in his chassis when you ask him, sheepishly averting your gaze, if he’d like to partake in this human tradition. He graciously accepts, hovering a servo over your frame (in case you stumble back in shock) and leans in for you to initiate the kiss. Yes, Miko told him. Yes, she ruined the surprise. No, he won’t tell you because he’s never seen you happier getting to kiss him.

Ratchet is unimpressed. At least that’s what he wants you to believe. He’s so invested in decorating he spends every minute off work painstakingly stringing obnoxiously bright garlands around the railings and holding the kids in his servos to reach the highest branches of the gigantic and possibly illegally uprooted Christmas tree. He’s complaining about the time he will waste taking down the decorations, but everyone in the base knows damn well he’s going to keep them on as long as he can. You don’t even have to bring up the mistletoe, he’s overheard enough from the crappy Holiday-themed movies the kids have been watching to secretly crank up the charm while scoffing on the outside. You’re watching the kids place the final touches on the tree, a mug of eggnog in one hand while helping yourself to some Santa-shaped sugar cookies. You barely notice Ratchet leaning in with a minuscule strand of mistletoe between his massive digits. It takes a moment for you to understand, what with the plant being nigh invisible in his servo. Finally, you swallow thickly and stand on your tippy toes (on the couch no less) to reach his intake. The kiss is the longest he’s ever experienced up until now, and while he has the kissing abilities of a dying fish, he melts into it while you forget how to breathe.

Bulkhead is clearly enjoying himself, watching bad Christmas dramas with the kids, trying to figure out how to remix old carols with Miko adding a rock (and occasionally death metal) twist. It’s simultaneously the funniest and most mind-boggling Holiday celebration anyone has ever experienced, add Wheeljack into the mix and now Ratchet is watching these two like a hawk in case they roughhouse too much and crush the Christmas tree. Miko would actually love to see that, and you and Bulkhead both have to be the responsible adults of the situation and try to keep the damage at a minimum while Wheeljack acts like the world’s worst influence on a teenager. By Primus, Bulkhead is actually tempted to join it, and now you have to reel in two grown adult mechs eons your senior and one 15 year old girl. Primus save you. And yet, beyond all expectations, said 15 year old girl is your wingwoman for the evening, which is simultaneously humiliating and a godsend. When she pulls out the plastic mistletoe from her pocket and holds it over you and Bulkhead’s heads from her vantage point on his neck, a move she’s been planning months in advance, your soul exits your body. The staring contest between you and her robot dad breaks only when Miko urges you to do something at least. The kiss is short and sweet, Bulkhead is screaming inside during the whole ordeal no matter how brief, hoping to Primus he didn’t somehow kiss you so badly during a five second interval you’re willing to break up with him. Nah, you’re blushing so intensely June thinks you’re about to have an aneurysm.

Wheeljack is a menace, and it’s entirely your fault. Mentioning the tradition wasn’t supposed to end up like this, but alas, horny dumbassery always leads to worst case scenarios. Bulkhead told you to go for it, meaning well with his encouragement but sealing your fate for the next 24 hours. Ratchet asked you if you were out of your mind, the voice of reason and simultaneously the bitchiest best friend you could ask for, telling you loud and clear if anything happened it would be on your conscience alone. June put a hand on your shoulder and (half) jokingly said she would ask to be assigned to your hospital room. Truly, you have the will to live of a hamster doing its hardest to die a horribly gruesome death and reach hamsterhallah. What a genius you are. Wheeljack wasted no time getting you under the mistletoe Bulkhead helped string up, and maybe you envisioned it differently when he narrowly bruised your lips going in for the kiss. You tried to keep the sloppy makeout session brief, but from the way Bulkhead was shielding the kids behind not one but two giant servos, you might have overdone it. What you especially did not expect, however, was waking up in the Jackhammer’s passenger seat with the worst migraine of your life and dry transfluid slathered all over your crotch. Now, trying to recall the events of last night with the worst eggnog hangover you’ve ever experienced, you can only wait for Wheeljack to awaken from recharge in the pilot’s seat. You note the traces of transfluid on his lips, and your eyes trail down to your suspiciously bluish hand. Did you fist Wheeljack on Christmas Eve?

Bumblebee is having the time of his life. You got Raf (and his Autobot guardian) some discount Christmas-themed games from the only offbrand Gamestop in all of Jasper as an early present. You watch with rapt amusement as they laugh at the frankly abysmal coding and game design, enjoying themselves to the fullest despite the sub-optimal gameplay, but you almost choke on your spit when Raf actually starts analyzing the code for the game and applying level-breaking cheats in a matter of minutes. Cheesus Christ, that kid can hack into the Pentagon at this point. You move in front of Agent Fowler’s line of sight to stop him from seeing just what kind of threat to national security Raf can become. As the day nearly comes to an end and you’re half sure Jack is scrutinizing Ratchet who’s flirting with his mom who’s tucking her hair behind her ear in the single mom sign for “I will fuck this alien robot”; you beckon Bumblebee closer and hold out the mistletoe over your head and his uh… forehead. You kiss him slowly, holding onto the railing as he leans his face into your lips, beeping happily. Little do you know, Miko saw it and now she’s going to hold out a mistletoe over your heads for the next 5 hours until your mouth grows numb from kissing him. He looks so damn happy whenever he notices the mistletoe, you can’t say no to him, not when Dadimus Prime is watching from the other corner of the room.

Arcee is ahead of schedule. She knows what you’re going to do, and she’s already planning to one up you. Yes, she’s been especially busy giving the kids a lift to put up the final ornaments on the tree in spite of her initial protests, but now you’re fiddling with your fingers stealing occasional glances like you’re desperately hyping yourself up for what’s to come. You have no idea what you’re doing to her looking so shy and cute. She could just eat you up. You’re unsure when you go up to her, Christmas fun fact on your lips and sweating bullets just thinking about what you’re going to do - and your jaw drops down to the Earth’s core when she gingerly holds a strand of mistletoe over your heads. She wishes she could capture your expression and lock it inside her spark. When you kiss, it’s deep and longing, filled with a need to give yourself up completely in spite of being so finite next to her. And she welcomes it, all of it, taking your eagerness and savoring every minute with you. When you pull away heaving for breath, your hair’s a mess and you’re redder than Cliffjumper’s plating. Your eyes twinkle when you look at her, equal parts love and desperation to surrender yourself to her with all the trust in the world. She will protect you until the day she offlines.

#transformers x reader #transformers x human #transformers prime #tfp optimus #tfp arcee #tfp ratchet #tfp bulkhead #tfp wheeljack #tfp bumblebee #tfp optimus x reader #tfp arcee x reader #tfp ratchet x reader #tfp bulkhead x reader #tfp bumblebee x reader #tfp wheeljack x reader

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justwinginglife · 5 months ago

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thinking of a Hoshina/narumi x Vice captain! reader who was raised to be a traditional wife for wealthy clans 🤔 Like she looks and acts like what people would scream wife material and in the field she be an aggresive fighter but still keeping a graceful look on her....i imagine she'll be the type to use aggresive weapons like SMGs just to contrast her character

Disclaimer- I am a Hoshina girlie through and through and idk if I would even know how to write Narumi but I will give it a shot for you anon. Thanks for trusting me with this request, I will do my best.

Three's A Crowd

You always thought you'd marry well, after all, you'd always been told that being a wife was what you were made for. And not just because you'd been raised by a governess in a proper household, no- you made the act of being a wife look effortless. If being a wife was a job, you were the CEO. If being your husband was a prize, the raffle tickets would've sold out.

Your parents would joke to family friends that you glided out of the womb in stilettos, ready to host dinner parties with your best wine and your best smile. And then when you were the youngest female to ever make Vice Captain in such a short amount of time, people just assumed talent was in your DNA at this point. You could completely brutalize the hell out of a kaiju, not even get your hands dirty or break a sweat, and then be back home in time to instruct the household staff which table settings to use for dinner and maybe even recommend a nice dessert pairing for whatever meal the chef had prepared.

Now, coming from a well-established clan, you had always assumed you'd marry one of the Hoshina brothers as your family had deep ties to the Hoshina clan and you'd known them since you were young, but you had also recently caught the attention of the Captain of the First Division and you could never resist a man with power.

As the Vice Captain of the Second Division, you were constantly meeting with the Captains and Vice Captains of other divisions, but for some reason you didn't meet the Captain of the First Division at any of those stiff meetings. In fact, he never showed up so you thought you might never meet him. But fate must've had other plans because one day as you were on your way home from meeting with the Vice Captain of the First Division, a kaiju decided to take a bite out of a nearby building and that's where you met Gen Narumi.

It's like he had known they were going to strike because he was onto them in a matter of minutes, skewering them like a kebab. You were impressed but you didn't want to let him have all the fun, especially since this might be the only time you ever interacted with him again. So you raced him to take down the remaining kaiju in the vicinity, gunning them all down with equal parts aggression and grace. He had been quite impressed by your agility and the elegance with which you slew each creature. So much so that he actually started showing up to his meetings from then on just to get a glimpse of you. And then he got greedier and a glimpse just wasn't enough for him anymore, he wanted to talk to you, get to know you.

Soon, a rivalry had formed between Gen and Soshiro as they both raced after your heart. The two of them were so different, pretty much the only commonality they shared were their feelings for you.

Gen was a quiet lover, he'd shrug people off when they'd ask if he was seeing you, keeping to himself about the details. But then he'd secretly leave a vase of your favorite flowers for you to find the next morning and if you confronted him about it he'd simply say your apartment looked so sad that even a bunch of weeds he'd scrounged from some random field was an improvement to the place. The flowers were not in fact wildflowers as he claimed, you could tell he'd gone to great lengths to buy the most expensive bouquet he could find from the hothouse but he'd never acknowledge it.

Soshiro was the exact opposite- he was loud about his love. He'd sling his arm around you, and brag to anyone who'd hear him about what a catch you were. He'd remind you everyday how much he adored you. And though it bothered him that Gen was attempting to court you too, he always felt he had the upper hand, having never seen Gen make any grand gestures for you or declare his love for you as openly as he did.

You were used to many men vying for your attention but you never thought that two of the most powerful fighters in the JAKDF would be among your long list of suitors. In fact, the two of them paid such frequent visits to the Second Division that you didn't think you'd even have time to look at any other men. Not that they'd let you look anyway, they'd pretty much assumed that one of them would be the one to marry you.

They weren't wrong. You did intend to choose from one of them as you'd grown quite fond of your little daily routines with each of them. Soshiro was always the first person to text you something sweet in the morning, he wanted you to get a taste of what it would be like to wake up next to him. Gen was always going out of his way for you, picking up dinner from your favorite restaurant an hour away or buying you a pair of earrings you mentioned in passing months ago, once he'd saved up enough for them (you had expensive taste).

It was the first time you felt like more than just some prize, you were actually wanted and desired as a human being. You felt like maybe even if you didn't say the right things or laugh at the right time, even if you fell short of the perfection you'd worked so hard to achieve your whole life, they'd accept you as you were.

It was both a blessing and a curse as you knew you'd have to pick eventually. As different as Gen and Soshiro were, they both did not share well and this little arrangement you had, seeing both of them, would not hold up for long.

But you'd hold out for as long as you possibly could. For as long as they'd let you.

After all, true love is hard to find and you'd stumbled on double the jackpot.

#kaiju no. 8 #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #anime #hoshina #oneshot #hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #gen narumi #narumi x reader #han's library

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kiame-sama · 3 months ago

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Can you give us some Human Lore related to the Great Seven? As you mentioned how the Queen of Hearts is very strict about Humans being protected, even making a bunch of rules to protect them (So no doubt if Reader gets bullied while Riddles’ around he’ll instantly collar the perpetrators)

I’m curious as to see if there are any myths about how the other Great Seven treat or view Humans

This AU has me in a chokehold and I can’t wait for more parts! I love every part and your art of the characters is amazing!

I kinda wrote a little idea for the Righteous Judge and how he felt about Humans (You can ignore or change it if you want! Since this IS your AU)

The Righteous Judge was known for being fair towards Humans as he believed they should be treated equally, as he’d saw how Humans could not only adapt, but even help Monsters settle their differences, and they could do it all without magic

As such he made laws to protect Humans as he thought highly of Humanity being the key to improve civilization, as while they didn’t have any magic, their bonds with each other and other Monsters helped accomplish any task or threat thrown at them

He believed Humans were pure because they weren’t born with the savage instinct like many Monsters have, as he saw Humans more likely to show compassion, mercy, kindness and empathy, unlike Monsters who are more prone to use violence, aggression and pure power to get what they want

Legend has it the Righteous Judge wept in sorrow when Humanity went Extinct, as he believed Humanity could’ve helped Monsters learn how to better themselves

It’s also believed that the Righteous Judge’s son was a Human, which could explain why he was so devoted to defend and help Humans

Maybe because of this Fleur City is known for their rituals, celebrations and festivals to honor the legacy Humans left behind, to honor how the Righteous Judge strived so hard to help Humans

Sorry, my brain went ham as I’m prone to overthinking because of my Autism (I love your Autistic Works as they’re incredibly relatable, like with Floyd and his squeezes since I love extra tight hugs)

Absolutely agree for the Righteous Judge and this would no doubt translate to Rollo's own infatuation and obsession with this little Human. I would bet that if Human MC from the AU visited Fleur city during the Topsy Turvey Day, they would be automatically crowned and honored in the festival as even the Righteous Judge loved the Humans he wept so heavily for.

The Queen of Hearts was known for her love of Humans and had several Human pets that she cherished deeply. She was known to only pardon her Humans from being beheaded as they were such an endearing little species and she couldn't stay angry with her Humans for long. There are no less than 50 rules regarding the proper treatment of humans as The Queen wanted to ensure her beloved pets were kept safe no matter what. All Humans were declared as a protected species in the Queendom of Roses, and harming or abusing one was punishable by death. These laws are still in place despite Humans being extinct for centuries just in the event that a Human could possibly still be alive somewhere.

The King of Beasts doesn't have any mention of humans in any of his stories, hence why many beast men were content to treat Humans as cattle and regarded humans as a delicacy to feast upon. Over the years as Humans became more and more endangered, the Black market for Humans became more than a little cut-throat. Humans were food for so long, that when they were declared extinct, literal riots broke out and what small remaining meat sold for millions. Knock off meat was popular for a while, and Sunset Savana (and various other locations with high beastman populations) admitted to being somewhat at fault for the rapid extinction of Humans. Now there is a global ban on the buying, selling, or trading of Human artifacts/remains.

The Sea Witch's story is deeply intertwined with the presence of Humans, as it was a Human the princess wished to see and marry, leading to her making a deal with the Sea Witch. Many merfolk regard Humans as the peak standard of beauty as a result of this story. Since sirens look very close to Humans- minus their ever present gills and abnormal aquatic forms- sirens are believed to be the step between merfolk and Humans. Many Human-like monsters are treated with the same kind of awe by merfolk for being so close to a Human in form.

The Sorcerer of the Sands had many tricks and was very knowledgeable, so of course he knew about humans in great detail. Some stories even claim that the Sorcerer sought the council of Humans for their unusual ability to resolve conflict in warring species. Despite their lack of Magic, humans were admirable enough to be in the council of the Sorcerer and were considered to be quite wise for their continued persistence among stronger species.

The Fairest Queen- the most beautiful of all and a wickedly powerful Harpy in her own right- liked the featherless bipeds known as Humans. Though they were clumsy and sometimes pig-faced, she viewed their ambition and tenacity in high regard. Such creatures that held on so tightly to their place in the world despite the other species beating them back certainly earned the respect of the Fairest Queen.

The Thorn Fairy was known for her many boons granted to Human kind. As Humans did not posses magic, they needed all the aid they could get and the Thorn Fairy was all too eager to aid. It is said that any Human the Thorn Fairy blessed became a member of her court, if not in title than in spirit, as the Thorn fairy adored the ignoble little species despite their fragility and flaws. Though she is the spirit of nobility and power, the Thorn Fairy herself smiled kindly upon her little Humans and offered aid to them when she could.

#kiame-sama #twst monster au #Humans are Extinct TWST AU

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amostimprobabledream · 4 months ago

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Bleach Characters Who Are Into Choking

Loosen your grip before I choke~ (Warning for some mild dubcon in the last one.)

Yumichika Ayasegawa

This may be surprising, but Yumichika finds something terribly aesthetic about choking. The eroticism of it, the glassy sheen in your eyes, the way his delicate hands look wrapped around your neck…

Unlike other examples on this list, there's no danger of passing out or Yumichika getting overexcited and forgetting his own strength. He's a passionate lover but he doesn't like to cause too much pain or discomfort, even if you're enthusiastically egging him on - a little neck squeezing is mostly all you're going to get.

He likes being choked too, he makes sure to do it prettily, throwing his head back to present the graceful arch of his throat to you, gasping thetrically and making a show of himself. Plus if you bruise him up, it gives him an excellent excuse to wear one of his many cute scarves! <3

Grimmjow Jeagerjaquez

This shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone - Grimmjow is rough, aggressive and dominant and that's only refocused and enchanced in the bedroom. He doesn't think kinks are something that needs to be hidden or danced around - if he feels like squeezing that pretty little neck, he'll do it. It's actually one of his go-to moves he likes to do, so you can expect choking to be a regular occurrence unless you make it crystal clear to him it's off the table.

He fucking loves it, loves the fluttering of your pulse against his fingers, the little gasps, the way your body writhes helplessly beneath him…

It sends his predator instincts into overdrive. He normally has excellent control over his strength but he really has to remind himself not to put too much pressure on your delicate little windpipe. He likes to tease you with it too - like a cat will bat around a mouse and then watch it while it's stunned, he'll pin you down by the neck and tighten and loosen his grip over and over, watching you splutter for air whenever he gives you a reprieve.

Cirucci Sanderwicci

Just look at her, you know this girl is into BDSM and kinks that fall under that umbrella. She differs a little in how she likes to choke you though - she puts that whip of her to good use. Especially if you're bigger than her, she doesn't want to worry about her smaller hands not being up to the job. Also she likely just got her nails done!

She's got very good command of her whip and using it like a leash just feeds into her ego. Seeing any marks on your throat afterwards gives her an extra arousal boost and you might notice her fidgeting in place as she observes you.

Though she's got a sadistic streak a mile wide, Cirucci is also up for being dominated. She won't ask that you choke her, but if you surprise her with it then she'll gasp and arch her back. It's a little difficult for her to let her guard down and be submissive but once she does it's quite a rush. She looks good with a hand around her neck too, her lips parted as she struggles for breath. Don't go easy on her or she'll get offended you think she can't take it.

Gin Ichimaru

Of course this bastard-coated bastard likes to choke you out. Those long fingers of his practically beg to grip your neck - they fit so naturally well you'd think he was created with that very intention in mind. He likes to take his time with it too, slowly increasing the pressure over time until you've got black spots dancing in your vision.

He likes to bring you just to the edge of unconsciousness before he equally slowly relinquishes his grip, likes watching the lucidity return to your eyes like you're waking up from a dream. His favourite move is choking you just as you're about to come, watching you gasp in his hold as your orgasm crashes into you as you adjust to the lack of oxygen. When he first did it you thought you were going to implode.

Don't bother trying to cover up the marks on your neck either - Gin takes pride in the proof of the act. If you're wearing a scarf he'll kiss your neck and tug it off while you're distracted, or lick away concealer. He's such a shit.

Kenpachi Zaraki

Kenpachi's whole hand can wrap around the entirety of your neck, it's inevitable that he can't resist giving a little squeeze. He prefers to do it in little sharp bursts - prolonged choking can get a little boring, since holding you still with just his hand is child's play. Instead he'll simply press down without telling you when, and for a brief second it's like all the air has vanished, before it's abruptly back again. He especially likes to do this when you're riding him.

He knows how strong he is, though, so he's slightly more inclined to be careful. Snapping your neck mid-fuck would be a bit of a buzzkill. He'll massage your throat afterwards with his long, powerful fingers.

If you want to choke him, he'll laugh at you and tell you to go ahead! You have to wrap two hands around his throat and act like you're throttling him to get your money back for him to feel much of anything. He loves it, the look of concentration on your face, the feel of your nails digging into his skin. He'll egg you on, too. "Yeah? You wanna choke me out? That the best you got, baby?"

Nnoitra Gilga

You are a brave, possibly stupid, soul if you want the praying mantis to choke you. Nnoitra's hands are just as spindly as the rest of him, but he's got some freakish strength that belies his frame. He will slam you against the wall and crush your windpipe until you black out.

Another one who does it instinctively and he'll laugh at you if you beg him to stop or slow down. He doesn't really do gentle, so he doesn't know why you think this would be any different. He especially likes fucking you while you're semi or outright unconscious - you waking up to his cock rutting in and out of you gives him a thrill, like even oblivion won't spare you from his lust.

Likes to trace his fingerprints on your neck and smirks at your bloodshot eyes. Choking him back is very difficult to do with his hierro, but you could still repay the favour by trying to smother him while he's sleeping. He'll make you pay, but it will be worth it. Hollow Ichigo

Now, Ichigo doesn't really go in for choking. He prefers to be sweet to you during the nasty, even if he will get rougher as he gets more excited, so he'd be very hesitant to choke you.

But THIS motherfucker right here? He LOVES it. Lives for it. He could get himself off solely by pinning you down by the throat and watching your hands scrabbling at him, eyes widening and your feet kicking. He loves it. Loves making you so helpless and cute beneath your king~

He likes to press the pad of his thumb against a certain dip in your throat, leaving a little circular bruise right in the centre where it's hard to cover up. He loves the thought of you washing your face and catching a glimpse of it in the mirror, knowing it's a seal, a promise of a repeat performance.

#yumichika ayasegawa #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #Cirucci Sanderwicci #gin ichimaru #Kenpachi Zaraki #Nnoitra Gilga #Bleach headcanons #tw choking #somnophillia #Bleach #Hollow Ichigo

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trippinsorrows · 5 months ago

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with me + part twenty two

rec listening: what dreams are made of by hilary duff (you'll know when) // words: 11k // warnings: smut, language, fluff galore, and suggestive content // masterlist

Coming off an insanely hectic week and an even more hectic weekend, your plan from the minute you stepped off that plane with Joe and Callie, who he held protectively in his arms as she slept most of the time, was relatively simple.

Very simple, actually.

Rest.

Rest for as much of the day as you could until it was time to get up and ready to drop Callie off at Kaylah’s place before your checkup.

It was a good plan, a sensible plan.

It’s also a plan that went right out the window when you wake up to find your man not next to you, not with his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you against his equally strong chest, hand on your baby bump.

No, instead you find his head in between your legs feasting on you like a man on the brink of starvation.

“Oh my god….” You will never in your life complain about waking up this way, your favorite adult person in this life, eating you out with that tongue that could make a nun swear. Never. But, you also don’t know how this man is up at what feels like the ass crack of down ready for some pussy with the ridiculous weekend he had.

His tongue circling your clit makes your hand shoot to his head, fingers immersed in his silky hair. “Baby…..oh shit, just like that.” It’s so hard to speak with him sucking on your pussy in the way that only he can, but you do your best to power through. “You–supposed to be—fuck—resting.”

It’s the wrong thing to say because this man clearly lives to drive you mad. He lifts his head, the sun from the adjacent window hitting him just right to illustrate the shine of your essence all over his beard. Fuck, he must have made you orgasm in your sleep already.

A damn shame you weren’t awake to experience that glory.

Smug as always, he asks, “you really want me to stop?” It’s the way he sticks his index and middle finger inside of you, watching as your back naturally arches, hand moving down to touch yourself.

Joe moves fast, answering your hand away, answering before you can protest, “the next time you come will be on my dick.”

Feeling bold while also eager for that dick, you taunt him, knowing what kind of response you’ll receive. “So what you waiting for?”

He smirks, and you know right then and there, he’s about to make you lose your fucking mind.

In a matter of what feels like seconds, he has you on your hands and knees, powerful backshots making you ready to scream his name for the entire neighborhood to know at least one of their new neighbors’ identity.

Your grip on the headboard is really the only thing keeping you upright, the force of his thrusts so rough and borderline aggressive that it has you seeing stars. One particular angled thrust forces out a louder than necessary curse that you know almost instantly he’s gonna make you pay for.

As expected, he pauses just to let his hand come down on your ass. Blood is nearly drawn with how hard you have to bite on your lip to keep from moaning. “Shut up before you wake her up.” His voice is gruff and demanding and you love it. Love it when he’s rough with you like this, when he makes it clear as day who runs shit in the bedroom. It makes your cunt clench against the girth of his dick. “Fuck, I missed being inside this pussy.”

Not as much as you missed him.

Joe plants his hand on the small of your back, pushing you down, deepening your arch. A groan of absolute bliss is all you can muster as he starts slamming against your G-Spot. “Gon make you come on my mouth and dick every fuckin day I’m home.”

He keeps you almost facedown into the mattress for a couple more minutes before he suddenly reaches and yanks your body flush against him, again deepening his reach.

It’s a miracle you don’t scream from that alone.

Joe grabs you by your chin and and turns your head to the wall with the full body mirror that gives you both a perfect view of the nastiness currently occurring. His mouth is by your ear, biting down on your earlobe as he instructs, “Look how fucking gorgeous you look right now, making a mess all over my dick with my baby inside you.”

It’s a hell of a view, the sight alone to make you come all over him right then and there.

His hand moves to your stomach, and you swear you hear a moan as he asks, “you gon give me another baby after this one?”

At that, your eyes go wide, because what in the actual fucking hell? You’re not even halfway through this pregnancy, and he’s already talking about the next?

But then his hand circles back around to the front of you, kneading your breast and intentionally slowing his pace for a torturously teasing second before slamming back into what has to be your stomach.

He’s so fucking deep in you.

Never a fan of having to wait, his deep voice rumbles in your ear, “I asked you a question.” And before you can try to reason with the man that is living, breathing proof God is real and so so good, that big hand travels down the slope of your belly to your pussy, fingers circling your clit. “You gon let me put a baby in you?”

There’s really only one answer you’re capable of giving. Tears down your face from borderline overstimulation, you swear over your entire goddamn uterus for this man to do whatever he wants. “Shit, yes. Oh God, yes.”

He’s visibly pleased and satisfied as he shoves you back on the bed and temporarily removes himself to adjust positions. Joe lays you on your back, legs pushed up at the same time he re-enters you with all the roughness of before. “You ain’t ever getting on that damn pill.”

That could be a problem, maybe, but it’s a problem for another damn day.

More deep strokes build up that familiar pressure that starts low and expands high. He sees that, the same way you see and feel his end nearing as well. “Lemme see that face when you come all over daddy’s dick.”

And like the pathetic simp you are for him, your release courses and travels through your entire body, hands squeezing at the sheets, toes curling, trembling and all.

Joe is not far behind, big body hovered over yours as he empties inside of you, sparing not a single drop of his sperm.

He drops to your side, and the two of you lay there in comfortable silence, chests heaving as you try to gather your bearings.

It’s a couple minutes later when you notice the feeling returning to your bottom half. Turning your head to look at him, you tell him half joking, half serious, “you keep fucking me like that, and I’m gonna be pregnant every year, Joe.” Thinking back, it really is a miracle you didn’t get pregnant much sooner than you did. Granted, it took a bit for you to get comfortable enough to let him fuck you raw. Still, if you knew then what you know now, the beautiful life you’d have together, you probably would have let him impregnated you sooner rather than later.

Especially with knowing how much he’s always wanted a family.

He runs his big hand over your bump. “What’s wrong with that?”

All you can do is stare at him like he’s stupid. This man done lost his goddamn mind. After this baby, you’ll give him one more. After that, that’s it.

Three kids is your limit.

That’s more than enough.

________

After spending the morning and early afternoon with Callie, the two of you ready her and yourselves for the doctor's appointment. As expected, Callie asks to come, something you were initially okay with until Joe voiced his concerns.

Initially, he’s a bit iffy with his explanation. You don’t follow, don’t understand why you can’t share this moment with Callie as well, letting her hear her baby brother or sister’s heartbeat for the first time.

It’s not until he says, “just want to make sure everything is alright first” that you get it, that you understand he wants to make sure everything is still going smoothly with the pregnancy. It makes all the sense in the world given everything he’s been through with this subject.

So you respect it, hoping he’ll be okay with her attending the next one, or even whichever appointment will be the one where you find out the sex.

She seems to really want a baby sister.

You’re convinced, however, it’s a boy.

It’s something you somehow feel even more convinced of sitting in the doctor’s lobby with your boyfriend, waiting to be called.

“Looks like my mom’s flight is still scheduled to arrive on time.”

Your mother, forever the drama queen, opted to stay in Philly an extra day so she could “rest.” Rest from what, you’re not entirely sure, because her week wasn’t nearly as hectic as yours and especially Joe. But, the Airbnb was rented until Tuesday, so it wasn’t an issue for him, thus it’s not a big deal to you either.

He nods. “I’ll pick her up.”

“You can just pick Callie up on the way home afterwards then.” It’s less ripping and running for the man who should be resting but has been on the go since the minute his eyes opened this morning, it seems. “Give us a few hours of alone time.”

He gives you that look. “You feening already?”

“Stop being nasty,” you chide, even if he’s not entirely wrong. It’s a rarity that you get alone time with the man next to you, usually having to share, or not share, him with his possessive little twin. “I was thinking we could take a nap or something. The next few days are gonna be stupid busy and draining. My agenda is packed.”

“You created a schedule?”

“Of course.” It’s said as if it’s the simplest thing a person could ever explain. “I’m a teacher and a mama, Joe. I live my life by schedules and agenda. I’ll share the Google doc with you.”

Forever confused about modern technology, he asks, “a what?”

Groaning, head thrown back against the seat, you chide him for his outdated knowledge of technology. “You’re such an old man. Imagine Microsoft Word but better and easily accessible.”

He’s unbothered and clearly set in his ancient ways. “I’m still stuck on the agenda.”

“Baby, if you’re gonna go all out to take us to Disney, I’m gonna make sure we’ll maximize our time there as much as possible.”

He looks like he wants to initially say something but decides on option two instead. “It’s not like it’ll be the last time, baby. We’ll go again in May if you’re up to it, and I know Callie gon want to go again and again.”

“That girl would probably live there if she could.” It’s half a joking, half a serious guess. Thinking on his words, you suggest, “if for some reason I can’t go in May, you two should go.”

He looks at you as if he’s surprised you would suggest something like that. “Yeah?”

Nodding, you grab his arm, laying your head against his shoulder. “She would love that, and with you being home, any opportunity you have to spend time with her, just the two of you, you should take.” Hand to your stomach, you add, “especially before the baby gets here.”

It goes without saying that Joe will absolutely spend as much time with Callie as he can while on indefinite hiatus, but spending said time doing something like taking her to Disney for a father daughter trip would be another level of happiness.

For the both of them.

A couple of minutes later, your name is called. Joe easily slips his hand over yours, guiding you to the back. He’s standing at your side as the nurse takes your weight, blood pressure, and is outside the door as they take a urine sample to check for sugar and protein levels. Once in the room, the nurse finalizes her portion of questions before instructing you to undress and change into the hospital gown.

As soon as the door is closed and you’re laid on the table, your hand reaches for his.

“Everything’s going to be fine.”

You’ve been with this man long enough to know that while he’s adept at hiding his emotions, compartmentalizing them wisely and expertly, there’s just some minor telltales that give him away his truth. Tiny little signs that you know and can recognize significantly easier than most. It’s how you know he’s fighting back unease and potential anxiety at something that’s historically been borderline traumatizing for him.

That’s why you bring your conjoined hands to your belly, again reminding him, “we’re going to be fine.”

He doesn’t say anything, but you don’t need him to. You just need him to know that you’re here for him.

A couple minutes later, Dr. Young walks in with that same friendly greeting, introducing herself to Joe and leaving the same great impression she made during the first appointment.

She asks all the standard questions before taking your fundal height and transitioning to the big moment you’ve been waiting for since finding out you were expecting. “So far, so good. Let’s get this ultrasound started so mommy and daddy can hear their baby’s heartbeat.” While preparing, she engages you both in conversation. “You already have one child, right?”

Joe answers. “A girl. She’ll be five next month.”

“So not that big of an age gap.” And you’re actually really happy about that, happy that there won’t be so many years between Callie and her little sister or brother. It’ll make the bonding between them that much easier. “Planning for more after this?”

Her question makes you laugh as you gesture to Joe. “Yes, but the exact number is up in the air because someone over here seems to think I’m a baby machine or something. I’d be okay with one more. Three is my limit though.”

He chuckles but agrees. “I do think three is a good number.”

“Very fair.” Dr. Young also laughs, applying the gel to your stomach, asking the both of you, “ready?”

You give Joe’s hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze and answer, “we’re ready.”

Her smile remains as she begins to move the transducer around your stomach. Every second after that feels like it weighs 100lbs, like there’s a massive anchor attached to each passing second that crushes down on your chest. It’s important that you remain in a positive mindset for the sake of the man beside you who must be feeling ten times what you’re experiencing.

But then…..

But then you hear it.

The strangest yet most beautiful rhythmic beating expecting parents could hear.

And then you’re crying. You’re crying because this moment means so much to you, means so much to Joe. His lips are pressed against your forehead, lingering, an unspoken I love you in the air.

It’s like you can feel the anxiety completely wash off and away from him.

From the both of you.

But then Dr. Young’s smile dims. “Oh….”

One word, and your heart also drops. You beat Joe to it, asking, “what?”

Her answer, in actuality, comes a few seconds later, but it feels like an hour wait. She seems almost hesitant, “is there—do twins run on either side?”

Your heart drops in a different kind of way, in a pure terror sort of way but for an entirely different reason.

“Please—-please do not tell me that we’re having twins.” That….that can’t be true. You refuse to even allow yourself to consider the possibility that it could be true. One glance at Joe, and he seems just as lost. “Dr. Young.”

She shakes her head. “No, you’re not having twins.”

And just like that, you release the biggest, relieving, relaxing breath that could leave your body. “Oh, thank God.” Hand on your chest, you laugh a little, shaking your head. “I was about to say—”

“You’re having triplets.”

There’s one blink, two blinks, three blinks followed up with a hearty laugh. Your gaze falls on Joe who isn’t laughing, eyes instead focused on the monitor. “That’s funny.” Shaking your head, you then notice not a speck of humor on her face. “Why—why aren’t you laughing?”

She makes a face, pointing to the screen. “Here’s baby A….” Your eyes land on what you can tell is clearly a baby still in the early stages of development. She moves around the transducer, searching, landing on another indecipherable speck. “Baby B.” Again, more searching before she reaches her final destination. “And baby C.”

You’re in a state of shock staring at the screen, partially paying attention to her words but more in a state of shock than anything. “And they all have very strong heartbeats.”

This is a beautiful thing for her to say, for you to hear, but it’s the pluralism that you can’t get over.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait. Wait a damn minute.” By now, you’re no longer crying and instead sitting up on your elbows trying not to have a goddamn stroke. “Are you serious right now?” Before she can say anything, you’re clarifying to avoid any room for miscommunication. “There are three children growing inside me?”

Dr. Young gives a nervous chuckle, offering an almost unsure. “Congratulations?”

“Oh my—” Instantly, you’re turning to Joe, punching him on his big ass arm as hard as you can.

He has the audacity to make a sound as if it fucking hurt his built like a boulder ass. “Ow.”

“No, that’s what I’m going to be saying when I’m trying to push out three of your big headed ass children!” Just the thought of that alone makes your eyes water. “Like what the fuck, Joe!”

This man has the unmitigated gall to shrug almost nonchalantly “It wasn’t like it was intentional, baby.”

“You know what is going to be intentional?” You point to the wall opposite that’s mostly made up of a large window, providing a view of the busy Florida streets. “Me pushing your big ass out that window for doing this to me!”

Dr. Young gives an uncomfortable cough. “Maybe I should leave you two al—”

“Baby.”

“No, don’t call me that. Matter of fact, don’t call me anything, because we are through! I thought you loved me!”

“Y/N—”

“I think you need to just calm down, Y/N. I know this is unexpected—”

“Unexpected?” Ready to rip into him, a gasp escapes your mouth when a thought crosses your mind. You turn to Dr. Young and ask, “wait. We had sex this morning. Is it possible it’s just like his sperm or something you’re seeing?”

“With a heartbeat?”

You’re not in the mood for Joe’s smartass comments and make as such known. “I wasn’t talking to you, Nick Cannon.” He rolls his eyes. “Doc?”

She’s not much help either. “I’ve been doing this a long time, Y/N. I think I know what a baby looks like. That’s a baby.” She then corrects, “Three, actually.”

“Oh my god,” you moan, eyes starting to water and as you turn to him again. “How could you do this to me? Why would you do this—”

He’s trying to comfort you, voice gentle as he works to calm you down, a hopeless effort. You’re too far gone because now you’re full out crying, very little difference between yourself and Callie during one of her tantrums. “You and your stupid fertile ass super-sperm!”

“Well, I see you two have a lot to talk about—”

“Who the fuck has three kids at once, Joe?” You growl at him while also asking the doctor, “can we like space that shit out? Like I can give birth on different days?”

She seems to be trying her best to be respectful of your haywire emotions. “I don’t—I don’t think that’s possible.”

That evokes another loud sob. “My vagina is literally gonna fucking break. These big ass babies are gonna demolish my walls.”

Dr. Young remains the professional voice of reason. “Now, we don’t know the babies size just yet, so let’s not panic—”

“I do! Big!” You snap, angrily pointing at your former boyfriend. “Look at this man! He’s freakishly huge, and so is basically his entire fucking family.”

She seemingly ignores your probably hormonal outburst, redirecting to facts. “We’ll continue to monitor the babies growth, and if their size presents an issue, then we’ll discuss scheduling a possible C-Section.” She then informs of an additional change in plans. “And because you’re having multiples, I will need to see you every two weeks vs every month due to increased risk of complications with a pregnancy like this—”

“Complications?” Joe questions, and for a second, you’re able to pull away from your meltdown to be present for the possible return of his anxiety.

Dr. Young is quick to clarify. “Looking at her medical records, the first pregnancy seemed to go relatively well medically, so we have very little reason to think this will be any different. It’s just that taking extra precautions never hurt anybody and is the medical standard for pregnancies with multiples.”

That seems to calm him a bit, as it does you, but only for a second, because you’re right back to freaking out.

“People have baby showers and gender reveal parties. Not babies showers and genders reveal parties. It’s supposed to be single, not plural!”

“Well, you said three was your limit—”

“Joe!”

________

Group Chat: SOS

Y/N: attention everyone, joe and i are no longer together as of today. we will be coparenting moving forward and ask for privacy at this time.

Joe: That’s cute you think I’m letting your ass ever leave me again.

Joe: You ain’t going nowhere.

Alexis: Is this the start of some sex skit? Cause if so, I’m so down.

Kaylah: Ummmmm, okay?

Jadah: It’s damn near 11pm where I am. What is going on?

Bianca: Sis, did you mean to add us or??????

Y/N: we just got done with the first OB-GYN appointment…..

Y/N: THIS MOTHERFUCKER PUT TRIPLETS INSIDE OF ME.

Alexis: WAIT, WHAT?????

Y/N: YES!

Bianca: As in three children?????

Y/N: Y E S

Alexis: I’m literally never babysitting for ya’ll ever again.

Josh: Damn, Joe….

Jon: Welp….ya’ll will probably qualify for some discount at daycare. Enroll two kids, get two free.

Y/N: NOT FUCKING FUNNY!

Alexis: Ya’ll! We should help them pick out names!

Alexis: I’ll go first.

Alexis: Kelly, Michelle, and Beyonce

Bianca: Alex, Sam, and Clover

Jon: Ed, Edd, and Eddy

Josh: Theodore, Simon, and Alvin

Jadah: Earth, Wind, and Fire

Alexis: Prue, Phoebe, and Piper

Kaylah: Blossom, Buttercup, and Bubbles

Jon: Luke, Leia, and Han

Bianca: Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles

Trinity: Toni, Tone, and Tony

Josh: Moe, Larry, and Curly

Jadah: Left-Eye, T-Boz, and Chilli

Bianca: Salt, N, and Peppa

Y/N: LITERALLY NEVER SPEAKING TO ANY OF YOU EVER FUCKING AGAIN

Bianca: I mean, are you really that surprised, Y/N? You’re only three months, and you look four or five.

Y/N: I just thought it was just my chubby little baby boy 🥺

Alexis: Well, it is…..

Jadah: times three***

Kaylah: JADAH

Jadah: You’ve successfully continued the lineage of light skin basketball players.

Alexis: Warriors finna start scouting them in middle school.

Joe: Jesus Christ, Jadah.

Alexis: BUT DID SHE LIE.

Y/N: i’m literally crying right now. 😭 AND NOT BECAUSE THIS SHIT IS FUNNY.

Joe: She is. In between threatening me, of course….

Kaylah: Bro, can you blame her? Twins….okay. Triplets? That’s insane.

Y/N: I’m literally gonna cut his dick off when he’s sleeping tonight. 🤬

Alexis: Don’t do that, friend. You’ll miss it too much. 😫

Y/N: ….fair

Jon: Yo, can ya’ll take that nasty shit to another chat???

Josh: Please. We trying to celebrate the expansion of the Bloodline! Welcome to the family Ash, Misty, and Brock!

Joe: Those aren’t half bad name suggestions actually….

Y/N: we are not naming our babies after pokemon characters, you fucking asshole.

Y/N: i hope you still like our sofa cause that’s exactly where your ass is sleeping for the rest of your life.

Alexis: You know good and well Callie ain’t about to let you do her daddy like that. She’s #TeamJoe all day erryday.

Y/N: then she can join his ass in the living room too. we’re gonna need room for all these goddamn kids.

Joe: I’m telling you right now, my baby girl ain’t giving up her room.

Trinity: Ain’t ya’ll got like 10 bedrooms or something?

Bianca: No, but literally.

Trinity: Anyway, congratulations, and please don’t fight in here.

Alexis: Naw, they fuck more than they fight. That’s why sis carrying the Holy Trinity now. Wasn’t thinking about that shit everytime she was wearing herself out on BDJ dick and letting him come in her like she Cum Express.

Jon: YO! Family friendly, please! Y/N like my lil sis. Ion wanna think about her like that!!!

Josh: 🤢

Jadah: Lex ain’t wrong though 🤔

Jadah: In all seriousness, congratulations to the both of you!

Alexis: To many more Moana looking babies!

Y/N: ALL I KNOW IS AT LEAST ONE OF THESE BABIES BETTER HAVE SOME OF MY GODDAMN MELANIN THIS TIME 😭

Trinity: Now, sis…..

Jadah: Y/N, I got a river to sell you…..

Alexis: *sings* she’s biracial. She’s biracial, girl…….

*Y/N HAS LEFT THE GROUP CHAT*

Joe: Look what ya’ll done did.

Jadah: Dude, you are literally the last one to fucking talk.

Jon: Yeah, man, you the one that did it.

Alexis: So like, did you come in her three times back to back or like spurts of cum in threes? I’m tryna see something here.

*JOE HAS LEFT THE GROUP CHAT*

________

Joe is a good man. You know this. But, that doesn’t make you want to kill him any less for literally impregnating you with three goddamn children at the same time. Sure, he’s absolutely right in that it was most definitely not intentional, just a pure stroke of luck, maybe bad luck, but still serendipitous.

And to his credit, you can see he feels a little bad, mostly because of the increased risk for complications that this pregnancy now stands to face. Still, it doesn't stop him from clearly trying to alleviate some of your anxiety about this unexpected plot twist.

He’s overly kind and patient, offering to stop and pick up your latest craving which happens to be the 10 piece nuggets from McDonald’s. He volunteers to help Callie pack, low key a major favor in that it helps you avoid her 50 million questions she’s already asked about this ‘family trip.’ He even runs a bath for you, bath bombs, bubbles, lit candles, and all.

He’s trying. That much is more than obvious. And you appreciate it.

What you don’t appreciate though is the moment you break the news to Callie. Your mom is a lot easier, surprised but also not surprised? Apparently she was suspecting a multiples pregnancy?

She will also be added to the probation list until further notice for such subterfuge, because as her only child, you could have gotten a heads up or something.

But Callie…..sweet, sweet Callie lives up to reputation of having no filter with the first question to leave her mouth.

“Does that mean Jesus doesn’t love you since He gave you all those babies?”

Your eyes are as wide as saucers as Joe closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose.

No filter whatsoever.

And they just keep coming

“Why are you having so many?” Callie’s questions are so innocent and sweet, and you know she means no harm, but that doesn’t stop the resurgence of all of your initial, chaotic emotions from earlier. “How are you gonna get all of them out of you, mommy?”

“Oh-kay.” Joe easily swoops Callie into his arms, explaining kindly, “why don’t we let mommy take her bath while you, me, and grandma get started on dinner, hmm?”

This successfully diverts her from unintentionally triggering you as she asks with all the excitement, “can we have spaghetti?”

“We sure can, baby girl.”

He shoots you an apologetic look before taking Callie out of the room, closing the bedroom door. You’re grateful for the dual departure, because you really just need and want to be alone for a little bit.

Stripping your clothes off, you settle into the water that’s heated at just the right temperature. Leaning more on heat than cool. Just the way you like it.

He knows you so well.

Reclining against the back of the tub, your thoughts wander back to this unexpected twist.

You’re happy. You really are freaking thrilled to be expecting, to be expanding your family, to give Joe more children and Callie siblings. It’s just the childbirth part of it all that has you a little spooked. Callie’s birth really was non-problematic and relatively smooth.

But, it was painful, and that’s not something you’re looking forward to.

Granted, you’re not sure someone can have a vaginal birth and not experience some level of pain. That just doesn't seem possible. It’s just that the thought of having to do that three times in one sitting is a bit overwhelming and borderline scary.

Three…

Three

For some reason, your mind briefly jumps back in time, not too long ago. Revisiting a conversation. A long overdue, heavy conversation with the one person you never thought you’d meet, let alone develop a budding friendship with.

Jadah.

In the midst of her sharing and vulnerability, she’d disclosed her losses. Joe’s losses.

Three.

The number was three.

They’d lost three children.

Chills shoot and sprout across your entire body.

You’re not as deeply religious as your mom, but you do believe that some things happen for a reason. Some.

Nor are you naive or ignorant enough to believe that these children could ever somehow replace the three he lost. That’s just not how life works.

But

There is something moving and poignant about the fact that you’re in a strange way able to offer him a different kind of restoration, a different kind of healing, and fill a different type of void.

You could never take away that kind of pain that must burn and rest deep within, but you can give him this. Give him that dream he’s always had of having a big family. Sure, it’s not exactly ideal and you’d much rather have given him three more children on three separate occasions, but that’s just not the way the universe operated this time around.

And that’s okay.

It’s okay.

The bath is suddenly less appealing, a new desire to be around the man you love, the woman who you helped you become the woman you are today, and the little sunshine you’re blessed to call your baby girl.

In under twenty minutes, you’re washed, dressed, and heading down the steps. A smile grows on your face as you walk into the kitchen. Your mom is at the stove, holding Callie as she adds seasoning, explaining to Calista the purpose of each additive.

Joe is at the sink draining the pasta when you move behind him, slightly catching him off guard. He turns and looks down. “Hey, baby.”

Hugging him from the side and burying your head into him, you feel him shift, arms around you as he kisses the top of your head. In a low voice, probably to avoid attracting Callie’s attention just yet, he asks, “you alright?”

Nodding against him, you murmur, “I just love you….a lot.”

And you do. Lord, you do. For as long as the sun rises and sets in the sky is how long and deep your love for this man will run. He’s done so much, given up so much, sacrificed so much for you. For Callie. But for you too.

This….this is what he deserves.

________

The four of you are up and on the road before 8am rolls around, Joe’s preference as the official start of your trip and stay at Disney for the next few days is apparently set to kick off at 10am.

The recent consistent early mornings you’ve all had the past almost two weeks make it easier to stay on track and on board, but it’s only twenty minutes into the almost hour and a half drive that things start to get a little chaotic.

Moving in your seat, you look over at Joe. “Baby, I have to pee.”

He quickly turns to you for a second before focusing back on the road. “What you mean you have to pee?”

This man is so damn irritating sometimes. “I mean, urine needs to leave my urethra.”

As if you’re a child, he asks the most obvious question. “Why didn’t you use the bathroom before we left?”

“I did!”

This doesn’t seem feasible to him as he questions almost suspiciously. “And you gotta go again already?”

Rolling your eyes, you start to get a bit snappy, because why does you needing to use the bathroom have to be such a big deal? “Well, I’m sorry your children are playing hopscotch on my bladder, alright?” You’re pretty sure the babies aren’t big enough to be the cause of that just yet. It’s most likely the 32oz cup of lemonade sitting in the cupholder you've been sipping on since you got in the Range Rover that’s got you needing to go to the restroom.

But, he doesn’t need to know that.

Your personal little morality police then decides to chime in from the backseat where she sits next to your mom. “Mommy, you said a bad word.”

Turning around in your seat to look at her, you ask, “Callie, why aren’t your headphones on?” There’s a reason you made sure to charge and pack them for her. For this very reason.

“Don’t try to deflect. My grandbaby is right. You said a bad word.”

The love you have for your mother and daughter is endless, but the two of them together is bringing on a headache. “Mama, why aren’t your AirPods in?”

She smacks her teeth, waving you off. “Girl, I told you I don’t know how to work them things”

“Mama, you literally just put them in your ear.” Turning to Joe, you ask, “and why haven’t you stopped yet?”

He motions to the interstate asking like the smartass that he is. “Do you see an exit yet?”

“Don’t take that tone with me, okay!” Sniffling more from allergies than true emotions, you sit back in your seat with your arms crossed. “I’m sensitive.”

“Girl, you ain’t never been sensitive a day in your life.”

Yeah, mama is about to get dropped off at the first damn exit.

Forever the curious cat, Callie asks no one in particular. “What does sensitive mean?”

Joe answers with a chuckle, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. “It means your mommy, baby girl.”

It would be perfect if your child was like others and accepted one answer as the final answer, but that’s too good to be true. She’s too smart and inquisitive for that. “Is that cause mommy has all those babies in her tummy?”

“Oh my—” Hand to your temple, you murmur hopefully loud enough for only Joe to hear. “We are never going on a road trip ever again.”

Callie then informs that she too needs a bathroom break. “Daddy, I have to pee too.”

“I guess I could move my bladder again....”

Your mom caving to peer pressure and getting behind you and Callie in the metaphorical line for the restroom sends Joe over the edge. He asks over a sigh, “seriously, did none of yall go to the bathroom before we got on the road?”

With all the sass in the world, you point back to each identifying party as you explain, “she’s young. She’s old. And I’m pregnant. What did you expect?” Grabbing your tumbler, you take another sip of your drink.

Joe catches this and asks suspiciously. “What are you drinking?”

A pause. “Huh?”

He makes a sound. “Is that water?”

Another giveaway pause. “Y–yeah.”

You maybe, maybe, could have gotten away with it too if not for the little snitch in the backseat. “No, it’s not, mommy. Remember, you put the lemonade in there.”

“Callie!”

He throws up one hand from the steering wheel. “Why would you drink lemonade on a road trip and continue to drink it when you already have to use the bathroom?”

It’s hard to argue with him at that. “Okay, when you put it that way, you may have a point.”

Joe can only laugh at the chaos of it all, reaching for your hand and bringing it to his mouth as he mutters. “you’re lucky I love you.”

Not as much as you love him.

Or maybe not as much as Callie is about to love him, does love him, because the minute you’re in the vicinity of the wonderfully colorful, large welcome to Walt Disney World Sign, and she lays eyes on it?

It’s a wrap.

With all the excitement and bliss in her little body, she nearly ruptures the eardrums of all three of you with her loud exclamation.

“WE’RE GOING TO DISNEY WORLD!”

Joe has seemingly spared no expense when it comes to his little girl, and this trip is living proof of that. You quickly learn upon your arrival into Disney that he arranged and paid for the VIP experience, which means it’s hands on, personalized service starting with a private shuttle carrying the four of you to the hotel you’ll be staying at.

The hotel is Disney’s Grand Floridian Resort & Spa, which just so happens to be the most expensive resort in Disney World. And it would clearly be remiss of Joe to not reserve the most expensive room in said expensive hotel.

The 3-Bedroom Grand Villa - Lake View

It’s fucking massive. Three bedrooms. Four full bathrooms. A full kitchen, living and dining area, washer and dryer as well as a balcony that overlooks the park.

Stunning.

Your mom is just as much in awe as you are the minute you step foot in the villa, meanwhile Callie is talking a mile a minute about all of the things she wants and needs to do once she learns this trip will be for Magic Kingdom.

Catching Joe by his sleeve, you mouth the words thank you.

He didn’t have to do this. Didn’t have to spend what you know has to be an ungodly amount of money to make this happen. There were ways to keep it nice and simple, but that’s not him because there’s nothing simple about the way he loves his daughter.

The way he loves you.

Lips pressed against your temple, he vows and says the words you’ll probably never get tired of hearing.

“I love you too…”

________

Everything about Disney is even more magical and spectacular than you could have ever imagined.

Big, majestic, magical.

It’s made even better in that this VIP experience includes a guide who’s apparently assigned to your group for the entirety of the trip, helping direct and lead you to the best and most worthwhile places.

Your agenda is not needed, clearly.

Day one kicks off with a visit to the Bippity Boppity Boutique where Joe has arranged for Callie to have the The Princess Signature Dress Package every day that you're there, the most expensive and deluxe option where she gets the full on treatment that morphs her into whatever her chosen Disney princess is.

Of course, she doesn’t hesitate to answer Moana when asked what she wants to be for day one.

If you have to guess, you’d surmise that Tiana, 2023 Ariel, and Jasmine will be her next three, in no particular order. However, it’s an emotional thing for you to see Callie be so happy and full of glee, especially as she gets to see herself in the mirror.

She really does look like Moana. It’s kinda crazy.

However, once she’s all princessed up and you and your mom buy and change into overpriced shirts from a nearby shop, you’re ready to tackle the day.

And what a fucking day. You knew Disney was huge, but you didn’t know just how massive. There’s so many things and options and people on any given corner, and you’re suddenly so grateful for this ability to explore while still maintaining some level of privacy. Having the guide, Cheyenne, makes things so much smoother with even something as simple as using the Utilidors to travel to certain areas.

One thing you were a bit concerned about as the trip got closer was just that — privacy. Especially on top of the whole Mariah fiasco, your apparently being internet famous, and Joe actually being famous, the last thing you wanted was for fans who don’t recognize boundaries to be all over him.

Not when Callie is present.

But Joe probably also had that thought, hence him planning this out so well, so thoughtfully.

And you’re grateful because it seems to make the experience even better for all, especially Callie. My God, you’ve never seen her so happy. Her smile is permanently tattooed on her adorable face as she gets to meet various Disney characters, especially the Disney princesses. Not everyone is tackled the first day, but that’s to be expected. She does, however, get to meet Moana the first day and holy shit, talk about a religious experience.

She’s damn near in tears from happiness. It’s cute and heartwarming to watch, and you’re so grateful your mother has volunteered herself to be the photographer for this experience. She captures it all. The way Joe walks hand in hand with Callie, how you and Joe walk hand in hand with Callie, all of the meet and greets with the characters, the small rides Callie asks to go on, not too many, but enough.

It’s all memorialized via the beauty of modern technology and forever etched into your memories for years to come.

And while Joe is primarily focused on Callie, who wants all of his attention for this experience, that doesn’t stop him from checking in on you. It’s done a couple different ways: nonvernal, verbal, little touches and kisses against your temple as he gauges your comfort level. And each time you assure him with the same variety of ways. It’s a bit of an exhausting experience, what with all the walking and Florida heat, but that’s to be expected and nothing you can’t handle.

You've waited too long to take away this moment from Callie, from your mom who’s probably emptied her savings with her inability to not buy at least one thing from each store passed. And because she’s just as stubborn as you are, she practically slaps Joe’s hand when he reaches for his wallet to pay for her stuff.

You’re certain he’ll find some sort of way to compensate her.

That’s just the kind of man he is.

The next couple of days seem to roll by faster than you realized, filled with so much happiness and fun that it feels like you blinked and the second to last day has rolled around.

When Thursday evening arrives, said second to last day of your trip, instead of dinner being shared amongst the four of you, Joe throws you for a bit of a loop, informing that he’s reserved a private room for the two of you at Cinderella’s Castle.

It’s not that you’re opposed in the slightest. If anything, it’s nice to be able to have some alone time.

For whatever reason, your mom spends longer than what’s usual touching up your edges, almost obsessively trying to make them look “perfect.” And she says as such with a coy comment of, “you gotta look your best tonight, baby.”

One could argue you always try to look your best for special occasions, but there’s also this part of you that knows Joe’s love for you goes beyond the physical. It’s deeper than that, so so much deeper.

As is yours for him.

Still, you tap into your inner makeup artist bag and have Callie ‘assist’ you in doing your makeup after your mom finally feels satisfied with the refresh of your silk press. Silver jewelry and some strappy white heels finish off the baby blue dress you wear that beautifully accentuates your baby bump.

You briefly considered wearing something red, but that’s for Roman. This is Joe. And the baby blue stood out because, at the time, you were thinking you’re having a baby boy. And that could still be the case, just….add on two more.

Joe looks good, but that’s nothing new. This man has never seen ugly a day in his life.

You’re both taken to the restaurant via that private ride and escorted to the reserved room almost immediately. However, you can’t stop taking in the restaurant that is so heavily themed based on the move its title is based on.

It’s just as beautiful on the inside as it is on the inside.

“Joe, this is so beautiful.” It feels like you’ve been plopped into a literal scene from the movie, not to mention the added beauty of having privacy away from others.

He asks, almost hesitantly, “you like it?”

“Are you kidding? I love it.” It’s almost beyond you that he could even fix his mouth to ask such a question. This trip has been a dream come true. “This whole thing….everything you’ve put into it. It means the world to me, to my mom, to Callie. Good Lord, you think that girl loved you before? She loves you more than she loves Moana now.”

He laughs. “Damn. That much?”

“That much.” Eyes softening, you say in a low voice. “Thank you, Joe. Seriously.”

He reaches across the table, taking your hand in his and responds in an equally low voice. “Never have to thank me, baby. Ever.”

The food, delicious and probably insanely overpriced, comes out sooner than you anticipated. But, it doesn't stop conversation happening between the two of you. That’s always been a thing. It’s always been so easy to talk to him, to fall into a natural back and forth dialogue.

You could talk to him for hours and never grow tired.

That’s how everything started, really.

Friendship.

He was your friend before anything, and even if by some 0.001% chance things ever go south between you again, that’s something you could never give up. Losing him as a partner would gut you, but losing his friendship as well would destroy you.

You can’t lose him again.

Ever.

When the table is cleared and you expect him to announce you should probably head back to the villa, he instead stands and asks for your hand. “Come on. Something I want to show you.”

Curious but trusting him, you wordlessly accept his hand and allow him to lead you out of the restaurant and into the night. You’re partially expecting to take the shuttle to wherever this thing or place is that he wants to show you, but he instead walks hand in hand with you down the cobble path.It’s significantly less crowded than the daytime, but that wouldn’t make much of difference because you’re so deeply in your own little world with this man.

It really does feel like it’s just the two of you.

“I swear my boobs are already getting bigger.”

He laughs at your random statement, asking in a sly voice, “is that supposed to be a bad thing?”

Hitting him on his shoulder, Joe laughs quietly as you murmur, “you try walking around with two melons of fat on your chest, and then see if you feel the same way.” He doesn't say anything, and you instead continue to focus on the beauty around you. Disney really is ethereal. “It’s even more beautiful at night.”

“Hmmm.”

“Do you know where we’re going?” It’s a valid question considering you just realized this is the first time you’ve explored the park without the guide. Granted, you’ve yet to find something that Joe isn’t very good at outside of modern technology, so it’s not far fetched he knows exactly where he’s going.

“Now’s a fine time to ask.”

Slapping his arm, you move into playfully defensive mode. “I have an excuse. I have baby brain.” Unable to help yourself, you add on. “Babies brain, really.”

He chuckles. “I’m still not forgiven, huh?”

Giving him a sideways expression, you decide to be at least a little fair. “You’re getting there.” Slipping into a more vulnerable place, you lay your head against his arm, admitting, “I feel a lot better knowing you’ll be home the whole time.”

“Me too,” he admits. “Your mom should still come stay with us the first couple weeks.”

“I agree. One adult per baby.” You can only imagine him rolling his eyes. “But no, we have to make sure Callie doesn’t start to feel neglected. I have a feeling she’s gonna get a little jealous when she realizes she has to share your attention with the babies.”

He sounds a bit on the defensive side himself as he reminds, “I have more than enough attention and love for any and all of our kids.”

“I know, baby, but with how attached she is to you, on top of how young she is, that may be hard for her to grasp at first.”

It’s something you’ve thought about a lot just watching her interact with Joe these past couple days. She’s gotten used to not having to share him with anyone. With you, yes, but not with any other kids, any other siblings. She’s excited about being a big sister, yes, but you wonder how that transition into actually being a big sister could be for her.

He seems to understand where you’re coming from now. “We’ll just have to talk with her.”

“I agree.”

A couple minutes later, you’re gasping and smiling when you realize where he’s taking you. You drop your hands from his arms and reach for his hand, leading him in the direction of one of the best things you’ve seen thus far.

“It’s Cinderella’s wishing well.”

You’ve seen a couple of TikToks talking about how this is something that doesn’t get as much attention but is just as adorable as everything else. And they’re right, the design, the location so that it’s right in the perfect view of the castle.

It’s so perfect.

Of course, he has to ruin the mood by asking, “Cinderella is the black and white movie one, right?”

“Joe, none of the Disney movies you’ve seen were in black and white.” Granted, you can see why he would think that given the age of Cinderella. The animation and even voice acting are pretty aged. “This might have been the one you fell asleep on.”

“I wasn’t sleeping.”

“Baby, you were knocked out. You and your lil twin. I think I have the photo on my phone to prove it.” Reaching for your phone to show him the proof, you’re stopped by his hand on your arm. “What?”

He then turns his hand over, revealing a coin. His voice is suddenly lower, almost quieter than it was a couple minutes ago. “Make a wish.”

“Seriously?” That’s also something else you read, the fact that the wishing well is a real, actual well that visitors tend to drop a coin and make a wish with in the hopes of dreams coming true. “Joe, my ass is too old to be making a wish.”

He shakes his head, eyes so soft and focused on you. “Just….just do it.”

The strange shift in his tone, volume, and even expression takes you off guard a bit, but you could also just be looking too into things. “Okay.” Snapping your purse back closed, you accept the coin and move closer to the well. Because of the well lit spotlight, you can see a set of coins already at the bottom.

It takes a second for you to think about just what to wish for.

And that’s significantly difficult because there is nothing for you to wish for.

You have everything you could have ever wanted.

It takes a minute, but you finally settle on a wish. You close your eyes, take a nice, efficient breath and flip it into the well with the rest of the wishes.

Smiling, you turn back around, ready to peer pressure him into making a wish as well. “Alright, now it’s your—”

The sentence is cut premature because of a very good reason, a reason that has your hand over your mouth, your eyes watering and your stomach doing fucking somersaults.

Being in a committed relationship with Joe was something you once dreamed about and somehow became a reality that still stuns you.

Disney has been an unexpected dream you also never imagined would be as spectacular as he’s made it.

Joe sacrificing his title to spend time with you and Callie knocked the wind out of you.

But this? This is most definitely something you never saw coming.

You never anticipated finding Joe Anoa'i kneeled down on one knee, a small, red square box that reads Cartier in gold writing in his hand that holds the kind of promise and vow of love that’s meant to withstand time.

It’s a miracle your legs don’t give out from underneath you. “Leati…”

“I love you, Y/N. I love you in a way that I really don’t know to accurately describe and help you understand. You’re more than just the mother of my children, you’re my best friend. You were there supporting and encouraging me when I needed it the most. Everything I have now, everything I’ve accomplished, it’s because of you.”

“Baby–”

“We always talk about that time I missed out with Callie, but I didn’t just miss out on time with Callie. I missed out on time with you.” There’s no way for you to hold back the tears that partially obscure your vision as he pours his heart out to you. “And that was on me because I should have married you a long time ago. I’ve always wanted to be with you, and one of my biggest regrets will always be not fighting harder for you, for us. That time we missed out on, that’s on me.”

The emotions coursing through your body is a deep, visceral experience you’ve never encountered. It’s equally wonderful as it is terrifying. At this point, you’re just full on sobbing, no doubt your pregnancy hormones making this emotional moment heavier than what it already is.

Joe is suddenly standing before you, gently lowering your hands and raising your chin to bring your gaze back onto him.

“I should have been honest about my marriage with Jadah. It would have saved all of us a lot of heartache.” He looks so regretful, so remorseful. “Those five years may have never happened, but I can’t change that. What I can change though is how the rest of our lives play out, and I don’t want to do life without you. There is no me without you, Y/N. She was never my person. You are.”

Your eyes are closed as he rests his forehead against yours. “I loved you then, I love you now, and I’ll love you always. Whatever you want, I’ll do. Whatever you need, I’ll provide. I told you before all I needed was for you to say yes when I ask, so I’m asking, please say yes.” You look down to see he’s opened the ring box, revealing the most stunning engagement ring to ever exist. It’s absolutely perfect. “Marry me, Y/N.”

And like the night of WrestleMania, you’re putting all the pieces together. His comment about saying yes, suddenly moving up the Disney trip, your mom wanting you to look perfect.

This was his plan all along.

A proposal.

A proposal at Disney World of all places.

His final question returns to the front of your mind, and it’s solely because of the hot, emotional mess you are that you don’t answer right away.

You had said answer the minute you saw this man on one knee.

“Yes.” His shoulders visibly relax, and it’s only then that you can see how nervous he was about this. How he could ever question himself is beyond you. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do or give to this man. “Yes, of course, I’ll marry you.”

Joe wastes no time in sliding the stunning, expensive looking ring on your finger, and you’re so in awe. “Oh my god, Joe, it’s so beautiful.” And it is. It’s exactly the kind of ring you’ve always dreamed about but never thought you would ever receive.

“I had it made in November.” Your chest tightens. That was so long ago. “And I’ve wanted to propose to you so many times in between then and now, but you deserved your dream proposal. I wanted to make it as special for you as I could, because it’s the least I could do after making you wait for so long.”

“Joe……” Another set of tears of cascades as you reach up to hug him again, not knowing if there are truly accurate enough words to describe your happiness in this moment. “I love you.” It’s such a simple but weighty thing. No one could ever understand the depth of your love for this man.

“I love you too.” He moves his hands to your hips as you release him from the hug, hands planted on his chest. “Am I forgiven now?”

Laughing, you shake your head, “yeah….you’re definitely forgiven.” Forever the brat, you can’t avoid using the stipulation. “For now.”

He just rolls his eyes, moving to take your hand as he nods back in the direction of where you’d walked. “Come on.”

Walking and being so close to him helps to settle you. Well, as much as possible considering you just got the surprise of your damn life.

Your body is pressed against his when a thought crosses your mind. “Oh my god, does Callie know?”

“Of course. I had to ask her permission.”

“You should have known that was a no brainer.” It must have been a beautiful, mushy sight to witness. Him asking his little girl for permission to marry her mommy. Callie was probably through the moon. “That and my mama.” Joe is old fashioned in the sense that you can’t see him not also asking for permission from your mom, and he confirms as such.

“She loves me.” He’s so smug in how he says it too.

But, he’s not wrong. “I swear, if she wasn’t my mama, she might try to take you from you.”

His voice is calm and collected as he assures. “That ain’t ever happening.”

Granted, that assurance isn’t needed because this man is stuck with you for life now. “Ya damn straight it’s not. All these kids we about to have? I wish you would try to leave me for some white woman who stans Taylor Swift. I’ll call Alexis crazy ass and we jumping you and her.”

He runs his thumb over your knuckles. “You ain’t ever gotta worry about that.” He then asks, “you talked to her yet about being Callie’s godmother?”

“Not yet, but I will. I can’t see her saying no. She never stays in one place for too long, but I know for a fact if she ever needed to take Calista for any reason, she’d settle down in a heartbeat.”

“I agree.”

It’s a conversation that first came up after the Mariah nightmare and re-emerged after you started the process of removing her as Callie’s legal godmother. Alexis has been a rock for you this past couple months, Callie loves and trusts her, as do you. Joe also feels like she would be the perfect person to take on that special role.

It’s definitely something you want to discuss with her when you get back from the trip.

Joe leads the two of you back into the castle, but you’re confused when he walks past the room you two dined in and reaches for another door. “Wait, why are we—”

“Surprise!”

Hands covering your face, you’re buried into Joe as he laughs softly, kissing the top of your head.

Getting proposed to at Disney essentially in front of Cinderella’s castle was the definition of a plot twist you never saw coming, but having all of your closest friends and family present for a surprise engagement party is beyond a plot twist.

It’s a dream.

Familiar and loved faces fill your vision when you finally pull away from Joe, still blotting the tears away. The room is decorated beautifully, Disney themed, blues and pinks, but it’s the people you care the most about that make it all the more special.

And inarguably your favorite little human being is suddenly running over to you, hugging your legs. “Mommy! Did you say yes?”

The fact that all these people are here is confirmation enough that they all knew what was happening tonight. That they’ve probably been known the same way they knew Joe wasn’t retaining at WrestleMania.

But, the fact that Callie knew does something to you. Makes you even more of an emotional mess.

Sniffling, you lean down and lift your left hand for her to see. “Of course, I said yes, baby!”

Gasping loudly, Callie turns to the group and shouts. “Mommy said yes!”

Laughing at her excitement morphs into laughing at the general responses to said announcement.

“Tag, you’re it!”

“It’s about damn time!”

“My baby’s getting married!”

“She better have said yes! These tickets were expensive!”

“Cue the music!”

The following exclamation is followed up with an old but familiar song filling the room.

Hey now

It’s such a nostalgic yet hopeful experience. Celebrating your future with a song that so perfectly encapsulates the magic of the past.

Joining the group that unintentionally seems to separate between women, men, and kids, you’re met with hugs and continued congratulations, but it’s the one from Jadah, the way she whispers in your ear, “you deserve this,” that really does something to your soul.

Pulling away, you take her hands in yours, giving a squeeze. “Thank you.”

She just gives you a wink, snapping back into her typical sarcastic space as she says, “just don’t think I’m gonna show up for all these special events all the time. I have a lovely lady back home I gotta get back to.”

“You should have brought her!” You’d be so honored to meet the woman who captured Jadah’s heart.

“Next time,” she smirks. You plan to hold her to that.

“Maybe we can have it at my place or something. An informal housewarming party.” Alexis joining the conversation isn’t surprising nor an issue, but her suggestion does confuse you.

“What do you mean housewarming?”

Rolling her pretty eyes, she informs, “I got tired of you coming after me and my non-commitment, so I may or may not have signed a lease for a townhouse about ten minutes out from your place.” An equally shocked and loud gasp leaves your mouth as you again have to fight back more tears. This whole night has been nothing but surprises back to back. “Someone’s gotta be around to help you with this village of children you got floating around in your uterus”

“Alexis…..” You pull her into a hug that lasts longer than the one with Jadah and even Bianca. A sister. Bianca may be your biological sister, but Alexis is your chosen sister.

“Yeah, yeah.” She’s never been the emotional type, but you don’t miss the gleam in her eyes as well as she redirects. “Alexis from Texas is officially moving to Florida!”

It’s the way almost all of the guys' heads snap in the direction of Alexis at her exclamation that makes you roll your eyes but the rest of the ladies feel some type of way.

“And how do you know who Alexis Texas is?” Bianca is the first to ask, which is understandable given Darius was the first to look with intrigue.

But, he’s saved when one of the kids calls out, “who is Alexis Texas?” and all of the adults wisely pivot the conversation, Trinity taking the lead.

“Let’s dance!”

That doesn’t need to be said twice, Kaylah being the one to match your energy the most as you both have a bit of a higher love of Disney than the others. Except one.

Callie suddenly runs up to you, tugging on the side of your dress. “Dance party!”

Laughing, you take her hands in yours, dancing with her, her happy laughter even more melodic and healing as the song playing in the room.

I've got somewhere I belong

I got somebody to love

This is what dreams are made of

And it’s in the way the lyrics really hit you, the way you and Joe connect eyes and he mouths ‘I love you’ that something crashes into you with all of the heaviness of a life changing realization.

This…..

This is what you always wanted.

Not to be married, per se.

Not to have that coveted title of being a wife,, the stereotypical white picket fence and husband who clocks in 9 to 5.

All of that is fine and having Joe’s last name truly will mean a lot to you, but it’s not the end goal you always thought it was.

The end goal was to simply be happy.

And as it turns out, that happiness comes in not just the form you’ve always been taught and fed by the media and stories where the prince rushes in and saves the princess.

You’ve learned that love isn’t just romantic, isn’t just two people devoting and pledging their love and loyalty to one another for forever. That’s part of it, yes, maybe.

But not all of it.

It’s the way Joe looks at Callie at any given moment.

It’s the way Callie’s face lights up whenever she’s with you or Joe.

It’s the joy that fills your body when you think of the life, the lives, growing inside you, expanding the family you’ve always wanted, the family Joe has always wanted.

It’s the way the people you love and appreciate the most gathered here tonight to help celebrate such a special occasion, the start of a new, fresh, happy chapter.

Love is all around.

People just have to find it.

The same way you found yours.

The End

authors note: welp, that's it for book one of reader and joe's story! thank you all so so sooooo much for giving my story a chance and seeing it through this far. 🥺❤️ sincerely never imagined so many people would read/be interested, so thanks a bunch 🥺🥺🥺

i'm also open to suggestions for if our good sis should have all girls, all boys, a mix-up......there's options, clearly. names as well 😅

i will be continuing the next chapter of their story in a sequel titled, 'without you.' i will continue to tag the same people, unless you'd prefer to leave their story as it is here, then please let me know, and i won't tag you. i truly hope you enjoyed the conclusion to part one! 🥺❤️ the first chapter should be up in the next two weeks for book 2!

#roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns fic #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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tgcg · 1 year ago

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part 2 of something specific

CG: I’M GOING TO NEED TO WATCH THROUGH IT AGAIN TO REALLY HONE DOWN WHAT I THINK OF IT, BUT FUCK IT, I MIGHT AS WELL SHARE MY THOUGHTS NOW SINCE WE’RE FRESH OFF OF WATCHING IT.

CG: SO, THEY’RE ACTUALLY A REALLY FASCINATING EXAMPLE OF RED ROMANCE. I’D GO SO FAR AS TO SAY VERY SUBVERSIVE OF ALTERNIAN UNDERSTANDINGS OF THE SORT, COMPARED TO WHAT YOU’D USUALLY SEE IN FICTIONAL MEDIA. IT’S LEVELS ABOVE THE TYPE OF DYNAMICS I WOULD TYPICALLY SEE IN MY NOVELS, DISREGARDING THE QUALITY OF VACILLATIONS AND YOUR QUOTE-ENQUOTE “POLYAMORY” PRESENT. BECAUSE SAKURA’S POSITION IN THIS IS PRACTICALLY POINTLESS, BUT I DIGRESS.

CG: ACTUALLY — THAT WAS KIND OF FUCKED UP, BY THE WAY. WHY IS SHE WRITTEN SO POORLY?

TG: remember when i told you about misogyny

CG: I WILL NEVER FUCKING GET THAT. OUR MOST POWERFUL FIGURES WERE GENERALLY GIRLS. HOW THAT TRANSLATED SO FUCKING TERRIBLY IS BEYOND ME!

CG: AND HOW THE SHIT DID THE UNIVERSE *I* HAD A DIRECT HAND IN CREATING END UP BEING SO MIND-BOGGLINGLY BACKWARDS ABOUT ROMANCE?

CG: DID NOT EVEN AN ERRANT TRICKLE OF MY INFLUENTIAL THINKPAN OOZE MAKE IT THROUGH THERE? AT ALL?

TG: not even a droplet my man we decided to be equally anal about other stupid shit i guess

CG: NO KIDDING!

CG: ANYWAYS.

TG: if yall managed to get through that door and reign supreme over the human race for lip smackin eternity you know mens and womens would be macking on each other in various gender arrangements with gleeful wild abandon

TG: itd be a goddamn utopia

CG: FUCKING EXACTLY! BUT INSTEAD I’M HERE. DOING THIS. WITH A GOD, UNIVERSE PENDING. INSTEAD OF BEING A GOD REIGNING OVER A UNIVERSE MYSELF.

CG: *ANYWAYS*!

CG: THEY START OUT WITH A RIVALRY, SURE, BUT THERE’S ACTUALLY NOTHING BLACK ABOUT IT. THEIR FEELINGS FOR EACH OTHER ARE STRICTLY POSITIVE, IF HIDDEN BEHIND A MORE AGGRESSIVE FACADE. THE VIOLENCE OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP BOTH COMES FROM THE SOCIETY THEY WERE RAISED INTO, AND SOME OF THEIR MAJOR CHARACTER FLAWS AND INSECURITIES. NARUTO IS FIERCELY DEFENSIVE OF ANYONE WHO JOINS HIS CIRCLE BECAUSE HE’S DESPERATE FOR CONNECTIONS, AND REFUSES TO LOSE THEM AT ANY COST EVEN IF THEY LEAVE SUPPOSEDLY OF THEIR OWN ACCORD. SASUKE SEPARATES HIMSELF FROM THE PEOPLE HE LOVES OUT OF FEAR – AND DESIRE FOR REVENGE AGAINST HIS BROTHER CONVINCING HIM THIS IS NECESSARY.

CG: LIKE, EVEN WITHIN THE FIRST MAJOR ARC IN THE LAND OF WAVES YOU CAN SEE THAT THEY CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER SO DEEPLY THAT SASUKE WOULD DIRECTLY SACRIFICE HIMSELF AND HIS POTENTIAL FOR NARUTO’S. AND BELIEVING SASUKE TO BE DEAD IS THE FIRST CATALYST TO NARUTO’S POWERS BEING RELEASED. THAT IS *REALLY* EXTREME. ESPECIALLY BY TROLL STANDARDS, BUT I UNDERSTAND KILLING PEOPLE IS A MUCH FUCKING LARGER DEAL PSYCHOLOGICALLY FOR HUMANS. THAT KIND OF REACTION TO DEATH WOULD ONLY BE RESERVED FOR A CURRENT OR POTENTIAL QUADRANTMATE… AND IS OTHERWISE ONLY EXPRESSED BY TROLLS WITH DISEASES.

TG: oh yeah like the friendship disease right

CG: UGH.

#davekat #dave strider #karkat vantas #homestuck #comix #something specific

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aaronsrpgs · 1 year ago

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The Accursed Vampire: The Curse at Witch Camp by Madeline McGrane

Three young vampires go to a summer camp for magic. Only two can cast spells, so the third, Dragoslava (queer icon) bums around and gets sad. But all is not as it seems at witch camp! (Duh!) Everyone is drawn into a magical plot, and we get touching moments (for real) about what adults owe kids, what kids owe each other, and how to navigate rejection and difference.

The Seeds by Ann Nocenti & David Aja

I just love David Aja art. The flat, sickly colors, the bold shapes. And Nocenti is just a weirdo; her aggressively allegorical writing from the '80s and '90s is toned down now, and she gives the art lots of room to do the heavy lifting.

Mimosa by Archie Bongiovanni

I'm happy to see queer artists of my generation reach middle age and make stories that are about getting older in this insane world of ours. Bongiovanni creates a great cast of aging urban queers who struggle through claiming responsibility for their feelings and actions.

Shelterbelts by Jonathan Dyck

Somewhat in the tradition of the "great" male cartoonists of the Fantagraphics age (Chester Brown, Seth, etc), Dyck takes everything I liked about those comics (the meandering pacing, the clear spare linework, the simmering emotions) and separates them from everything I hated (the misogyny and queerphobia). Shelterbelts is about a growing town in Canada struggling with religious tensions, the generation gap, and everything else our towns are struggling with.

The Chromatic Fantasy by H.A.

A transmasc nun makes a deal with the devil to escape the nunnery. Outside, he commits crimes and falls in love. I loved the bright, flat colors that are equal parts stained glass and old anime. And I loved how the main character deals with his self-hatred, internalized by growing up in a system that demands he be anything but himself.

Adversary by Blue Delliquanti

Real gutpunch shit. What are our responsibilities in the ongoing crises of looming fascism and disease? And how do we see those responsibilities across the intersection of race and sexuality? But all this is contained in a tragic love story set in the height of the pandemic.

Grog the Frog by Alba B.G.

I never watched Adventure Time, but I gather that fans of the show got from it something similar to what I got from Grog the Frog: fresh worldbuilding, funny dialogue, and great art all layered over a surprising level of emotion.

Blessed by Baal by Tzor Edery

Beautiful art. Great porn. People struggle with sex, personal joy, and understanding the self in the wider erotic world.

#comics

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maxdibert · 21 days ago

Note

Do you think Snape had romantic feelings for Lily? What do you think about how main part of fandom associates his story only with his «undying love»?

I’m somewhere in the middle between those who think it was romantic and those who think it was platonic. I believe it was both, because the two can easily get confused.

To put it in context, I work with people who not only had terrifying childhoods and youths but, in general, pretty horrible lives. On top of that, most of these people have severe mental disorders like schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, or similar issues where severe emotional deprivation has been a major conflict in their social and emotional development. That said, one of the things I’ve learned (because my boss is amazing and pays for training courses for the whole team so we can better understand the people we work with) is that people with severe emotional deprivation tend to choose, throughout their lives, one or more individuals as their “attachment figures.” Usually, it’s just one person, though this can change over the years since these relationships often fall apart. This attachment figure isn’t necessarily someone they have a romantic or sexual relationship with, but rather someone they unconsciously choose as the object of their affection. All their emotions are directed at this person: all their attention is on them, and they are willing to do anything for them. They always talk to them, are always attentive to what’s happening to them, always worry about how they’re doing, always share everything with them, and always count on them.

But because this attachment is completely excessive and unregulated (since these people don’t know how to regulate themselves due to not having been taught, nor are they capable of forming healthy emotional bonds because of terrible role models and deep emotional wounds), it also works negatively. In other words, if you are someone’s attachment figure and suddenly stop responding to their messages, they will demand an explanation. If you hang out with other people, they will demand an explanation. If you make plans without them, they will demand an explanation. Being the attachment figure is a substitute for the emotional role model that wasn’t provided in childhood, like parents, so you’ll face tantrums like those of children feeling they’re not the center of their parents’ world. To these people, you are the center of their world, and unconsciously (because these kinds of attachments are entirely irrational—it’s super important to understand that this isn’t something they do on purpose), they want to be the center of yours. When they realize they’re not, they explode. They don’t know how to handle it because their insecurity and fear of loss and abandonment are so overwhelming that they feel they’re about to lose their attachment figure. Since they can’t control their emotions, their response is always incredibly anxious and aggressive.

With that in mind, I think that for Severus, Lily was his attachment figure. I believe that during his childhood, he saw her as his first equal (a witch), someone he could share things with that he wasn’t allowed to at home, someone with a functional and stable family, someone who treated him kindly and was good to him. I think that, because of this, she unconsciously became his emotional reference point. I think he was entirely dependent on her attention, as many people with emotional deprivation are with their attachment figures. I also think that, because this happened during his adolescence, and because she was a girl, was beautiful, and was loved by everyone, he probably confused it with love, a crush, or something like that. Let’s remember that Severus had no idea what healthy or functional romantic relationships were because the only example he had was his parents’ relationship, which was probably a complete disaster. In fact, that’s why I think he never questioned many of Lily’s attitudes toward the bullying he suffered—because in his home, the normalization of violence was justified, and contempt between partners was the norm. So, when she hinted that the bullying he endured wasn’t such a big deal, it probably seemed normal to him compared to how his parents treated each other.

In my opinion, it was both platonic and romantic, but not romantic in a deep sense—more of a deviation from the concept influenced by adolescent sexual awakening and the fact that she was the closest thing to someone he cared for. But primarily, I think Lily was his attachment figure from childhood. And as often happens in these situations, the attachment figure doesn’t feel nearly as strongly or intensely in return. It’s not reciprocal—not because the attachment figure is bad or inconsiderate, but because this is something that only develops when there are severe emotional deprivations, which Lily didn’t have. Honestly, this theory fits much better with the idea that feeling even slightly responsible for her death was something that paralyzed him for the rest of his life. It wasn’t just about being responsible for someone he might have felt romantic feelings for, but also for someone who was like a sister or even a mother to him. For people like this, the attachment figure is all those things—they are everything. And it also explains why, when begging for her life, he didn’t consider anyone else—because, in reality, no one else mattered to him. For people with attachment needs, only their attachment figures matter. This can be complex to understand for those without severe emotional traumas or serious mental health disorders, but it’s quite normal if you regularly interact with people like this.

So maybe during his adolescence, he thought he was in love, because such an intense feeling toward someone of the opposite gender is always culturally justified as romantic love under the heteronorm. And he was probably sexually attracted to her, which is super logical and normal because, well, teenagers, hormones, and all that. But if we get to the root of the matter, I don’t think it was that kind of love. I think it was actually a more platonic feeling, one of pure emotional and affective dependence on her.

#severus snape #severus snape defense #severus snape fandom #pro severus snape #pro snape #severus snape headcanons #snape headcanons #severus snape meta #severus snape analysis #lily evans #lily evans potter #lily potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter meta

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amirasainz · 8 months ago

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i really love this series sm and can u make baby!sainz and carlos’s cute moments from childhood with each other or with their parents. thank you!

Ohhh, this was so sweet to write. I really like the Easter part, because me and my siblings would do something like that as well.

I hope you have fun reading and please send some requests!

-XoXo

Childhood memories

The Arrival Young Carlos’s excitement about having a sibling—someone to share adventures with, especially karting—was palpable. But when he learned it was a girl, his disappointment was equally intense. Why couldn’t he have a little brother like he’d hoped? Blanca and Ana had each other for Barbie playdates; why couldn’t he have a buddy too?

His parents tried to console him, suggesting that maybe the new baby would share his love for karting. But Carlos remained unconvinced. It was the night before his sister’s arrival, and he sat with his Papá on the swings, contemplating his impending role.

“You have a really important job now, Carlos,” his Papá said, capturing his attention. “What job, Papá? Am I gonna be a Ninja?” Carlos’s imagination ran wild. But his father’s response was even better: “No, mijo. Something even more significant. With three little sisters now, you need to be their protector. Especially for Amira—she’ll be too little to take care of herself. Can you do that for her, Carlitos?”

Carlos’s promise was unwavering. “Of course, Papá. I’ll be the best big brother for Amira. Promise.”

And so it began—the moment Amira arrived home, she had her personal bodyguard. Carlos took his role seriously, watching over her with fierce determination.

The first Vaccination It was no secret that Carlos loved his little sister dearly. His baby sister, just six months old, had already wrapped him around her tiny finger. And Carlos didn’t mind one bit; in fact, their parents found it utterly sweet.

But when he heard Amira cry during their doctor’s visit, it shattered Carlos’s heart. As a six-month-old, she needed her vaccinations promptly. Like any other baby, Amira wailed when the needle pricked her tiny arm.

The worst part? Carlos felt utterly helpless. His Mamá explained that it was crucial for Amira’s safety to receive all her vaccinations. But he couldn’t bear to hear his sister’s heart-wrenching sobs any longer. Tearfully, he turned to the doctor: “Senora Doctora, can’t you give my sister something else? She’s in so much pain.” He cradled Amira in his arms, holding her like a precious teddy bear.

The doctor and his Mamá exchanged a knowing look. “I’m afraid not, little Señor Carlos,” the doctor replied gently. “However, when we’re done here, little Amira will be protected from all the illnesses out there.” Carlos’s eyes searched hers. “Promise?” he asked. “Promise,” she assured him.

And so, with that solemn vow, Carlos held his sister close, knowing that her well-being was worth every tear shed during those necessary vaccinations.

Stupid Boys Ah, the complexities of sibling dynamics and growing up! Young Carlos found himself in a predicament when his six-year-old sister, Amira, casually dropped the bombshell: “My boyfriend Diego colored me a picture.” Carlos’s reaction was nothing short of dramatic: “Wait, what? What do you mean your boyfriend? Gatita, you’re only six years old!” His protective instincts kicked in, and he couldn’t fathom the idea of his baby sister having a boyfriend already. Before he could say anything else, his sister ran to her older sisters.

Throughout dinner, Carlos attacked his peas with more aggression than necessary. His Mamá, ever observant, asked, “Carlos, what’s wrong, aye? What did the peas do to you?” Blanka, the family joker, chimed in: “Maybe he saw himself in the reflection.” Ana and Amira erupted into giggles, and their father had to intervene with a stern “Girls.”

But Carlos couldn’t let it go. “Amira, you don’t need a boyfriend yet,” he nearly whined. The simultaneous “Boyfriend?” from his parents revealed their differing perspectives. His Mamá seemed delighted, while his Papá sounded more serious. And his sisters? Well, they “uhhhh”-ed in unison.

Amira spilled the beans about Diego, and the whole family listened intently. At the end of her story, their father weighed in: “Your brother is right, mija. You’re too young.” A secret wink followed towards Carlos, and Carlos felt a surge of validation. His father had his back.

As his sisters continued to protest to Papá about the perceived unfairness, Carlos realized that if his sisters were a team with Mamá, he was definitely part of Team Papá.

Easter Bunny Each year his sisters and Carlos would have a sleepover the night before Easter. Carlos, the protective big brother, found himself in a delightful predicament. As he grew older, the magic of Easter began to fade, but for his little sisters, it remained alive and well. They still believed in the Easter Bunny, and their excitement was contagious.

So, when Carlos was abruptly woken up at 5 am on Easter morning, he found all three of his sisters staring at him with wide eyes. Panic filled the room as they whispered about scary noises—perhaps robbers invading their home. Blanca’s sentence hung in the air, unfinished, when another noise echoed through the house.

Carlos knew the truth, of course. It wasn’t robbers; it was their Papá, stealthily placing Easter presents on the staircase. But he couldn’t spoil the magic for his sisters. Instead, he played along: “Dios mío, it’s the Easter Bunny!” Their faces turned toward him, eyes wide with wonder. “Really?” Ana whispered. “Mhm,” Carlos confirmed, “but we have to go back to sleep. Otherwise, the bunny might hop away without leaving our presents.”

Ana and Blanca scrambled to his sides, burrowing under the blanket. Carlos gently lifted little Amira and settled her on his chest. “Now sleep, you three,” he intimated his best Carlos Sainz Sr. voice. And in that moment, surrounded by his sisters, he felt the weight of his promise—the protector of their childhood magic.

Carlos truly was the best big brother out there, weaving enchantment and love into their shared memories.

#formula 1 #baby!sainz!sister #carlos sainz x sister!reader #formula 1 x reader #sainz!family

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coraniaid · 2 months ago

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reverse unpopular opinion meme: xander?

[Reverse unpopular opinion meme]

I like to consider my opinion of Xander Harris as being particularly complicated and nuanced, but – engaging in some critical self-reflection for just a moment – I think the objective truth is probably more that I’m just instinctively and aggressively contrarian about it. I find that I tend to strongly disagree with most of the online takes about Xander I see, almost regardless of whether they’re pro or anti.

I mean, on the one hand I do think it’s more than a bit silly to pretend, as many people seem to do, that Xander Harris is [somehow?] uniquely and only a Joss Whedon self insert [despite being written by multiple people] in a way that none of the other characters [that Whedon also created and that appear in the show Whedon created] apparently are. Or to ignore the fact that very often the audience is clearly meant to think that Xander is in the wrong and disapprove of his actions. (You obviously aren’t supposed to be cheering for him when he lies to Buffy about Willow’s message about Angel in Becoming, for an easy example; or to be clapping and applauding him when he cheats on Cordelia or leaves Anya at the altar either.) And I think it would be wrong to dismiss the fact that Xander starts the show as a dumb but (mostly) harmless teenager and that, not only does he gradually mature and improve as a person as he grows up, he also [perhaps uniquely for this show?] manages to do so without killing even one person.

But equally I would be lying if I didn’t admit that many of my least favorite episodes of the show are either Xander-centric episodes (Teacher’s Pet, The Pack, Bewitched, Bothered & Bewildered for example) or episodes in which Xander plays a non-trivial role in exactly the parts of the episodes I most dislike (his treatment of Buffy in Dead Man’s Party, say, or his speech in support of Riley in Into The Woods). The haters are right to say that Xander does often treat his female friends and partners abysmally, often in ways that the show doesn’t seem to acknowledge or which it briefly acknowledges only to brush them off with no consequences. There certainly are times when the writers expect the audience to cheer for Xander a lot more than I personally want to, or when he says something gross and sexist which is just meant to be funny and that the writers simply didn’t think critically about at all. And the flipside of Xander being written by a range of different writers is that his character growth is often slow, halting or inconsistent (which, while arguably realistic, is not particularly fun to experience). And unlike some of the fandom I don’t really believe anything Xander does can be handwaved away by him being deeply affected by what happened to his “best friend” Jesse in Season 1’s The Harvest: in fact I would put money on a majority of the show’s writers having no idea who Jesse was.

Anyway, none of that preamble is really in the spirit of the ask game, is it?

Um. Five things I like about Xander, then. No hedging or clarification except for what I heavily imply above (oh, and also the comics aren’t canon and don’t mean anything and actually don’t even exist … I mean, uh, what comics are we even talking about?).

I think the show resolves the initial Season 1 “love triangle” (in which Xander is really into Buffy and she doesn’t reciprocate his feelings or even seem to notice them, while similarly Willow is really into Xander and he doesn’t reciprocate her feelings or even seem to notice them) in about the best way it possibly could have done. Buffy and Xander don’t ever get together and there’s never really any suggestion that they might – one or two odd moments in Season 2 aside, I guess? – and Willow musters the self-respect required to firmly reject Xander when he tries to ask her to the dance that Buffy had just turned him down for in Prophecy Girl. Not only that, but Willow goes on to have a serious relationship with a guy who isn’t Xander and then comes out as a lesbian and continues to have serious relationships with woman who aren’t Xander, right up to the end of the final season. And this happens all while the three of them stay very close friends; in fact Buffy and Xander at least are clearly better friends in the second half of the season than they were at the beginning of the show [when, after all, Xander had only just met her]. Whether or not that was planned from the beginning – and to be honest, I think the Buffy fandom as a whole wildly overestimates how much of the show was planned from the beginning – I think that’s a pretty unambiguously great way for that particular subplot to have be handled. (Although the funniest and most geometrically pleasing resolution of the Season 1 love triangle would, of course, have been for Buffy and Willow to end up together.)

Speaking of Buffy and Willow, for all his faults Xander is consistently written as somebody who cares about his friends and wants them to be safe and happy. As well as the obvious big moments – helping to save Buffy’s life in Prophecy Girl; his speech assuring Buffy that she’s his hero in The Freshman; repeatedly assuring Willow in Grave that he’ll always love her, even if she ends up killing him or destroying the world; that moment in Season 7 where Buffy sends him away to look after Dawn because she “needs somebody [she] can count on” – I think it’s fun when we get to see the three of them just hang out, in those quiet little moments they get to just all be kids together. I am very firmly in the camp that thinks Buffy should have friends and be allowed to not be treated for an idiot for liking said friends or wanting to spend time with them. Whatever else you can say about it, I think it’s obvious that this is how the show’s writers expect you to engage with the show. That’s part of why I’m more forgiving than some people of episodes like I Robot, You Jane or Bad Eggs or Amends: these are all episodes in which I can believe that Xander is fundamentally a good kid who Buffy would want to be friends with, and that he’d grow up to be somebody she’d still want to be friends with as an adult.

Some people online – mostly not on Tumblr – talk a lot of rot about Xander getting self-defense training or somehow reconnecting with the military persona he had in Halloween or otherwise Learning How To Fight, and I can’t overstate how glad I am that the show didn’t go in this direction. Xander makes sense as a character precisely because he isn’t a fighter. Because he doesn’t occupy that more stereotypically masculine role: because he is the one who gets rescued and brings in baked goods and that the other, more powerful but emotionally repressed characters can go to to talk about their feelings. Because he is the person who, by the end of the show, can best reassure Dawn that she doesn’t need to be a Potential Slayer or have superpowers to be special. This idea that Xander complains too much during the show about not having special powers and that the “solution” to “fix” this is to have him go out and get some (as opposed to this being a deliberate character arc in which Xander learns to accept that he’s never going to be that sort of person) is not one I have a lot of sympathy for. The show already has a human male character who is trained as a fighter so he can go on patrol with Buffy: he’s called Riley Finn and he’s insufferable.

Although the fandom as a whole loves to massively oversell how “abusive” the Scoobies respective parents are, I do think that Xander’s home life is a key part of understanding who Xander specifically is as a person. And – again, however deliberately planned from the beginning or not it was – there’s something nicely disturbing about how we never get a big dramatic reveal about how awful Xander’s parents are: it’s just something that the writers just slowly build up to – from the idea in Season 1 that Xander doesn’t regularly eat cooked meals at home (“do your parents even own a stove?”), to Xander joking about his dad trying to “send [him] to some Armenians once” early in Season 2, or calling home to say he’s going to be out all night and having his mother clearly not recognize his voice, through to Cordelia revealing in Season 3 that he admitted to her that sleeps outside during Christmas to avoid his parents drunken fights – until by Restless we can see Xander having nightmares about being trapped in his parents basement and having his father come down the stairs and we don’t need to have anything more than that explained to us. I think that’s all really effectively done, and while I don’t think it excuses te way Xander behaves I do think it does a lot to make sense of it.

Again, while I think it’s possible to drastically overstate the Mind/Spirit/Heart metaphorical reading – I don’t think this is something the writers were consciously thinking about most of the time and I don’t think the reading of the show in which everyone is reduced to a part of Buffy’s own psyche is even particularly interesting except perhaps as an intellectual exercise – I do think it’s a reading that works pretty well for Xander. (Actually of the three elements, that’s surely the one that’s easiest to see: I’ve never been completely sure why Willow is the Spirit rather than the Mind.) Yeah, Xander can often be petty and jealous and selfish and hypocritical and refuse to analyze his own feelings: that doesn’t rule him out from being Buffy’s metaphorical heart, it’s evidence that he is. Buffy can be all of those things too! (I think I am rather more fond of Buffy herself than you are – she is my favorite character on the show, after all – but I don’t like Buffy because she’s flawless and perfect; I like her because she’s interesting and realistically flawed, and very often flawed in the same ways as her friends.)

#btvs #asks #thanks!#(sorry that I cheated a bit)

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finisnihil · 8 months ago

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Some people need to learn the difference between like/disliking a character on a personal level v. a writing level. I dislike some characters on a personal level but I do love their writing and characterization on a meta level and any of my bullying of them is mostly for jokes. Meanwhile there's also characters who I adore on a personal level but abhor the writing of because it feels like their concepts or potential as a character were squandered.

I've said it before i'll say it again when you let your personal bias on a character infect your analysis of them you get mischaracterization. Part of media literacy is seperating authoral intention from reader response and thinking about if anything about the character or their interactions can cloud your judgement of them on a surface level.

For example, in the 2.1 quest of HSR I saw some Aventurine lovers absolutely jump on a hate train for Sunday because in their eyes, Sunday was villainous for his actions against Aventurine and deserved to be put down for it. But, when you stop bastardizing Sunday in an effort to validate and sanitize Aventurine's motives you see the two are actually equally complicit in hurting the other. Sunday did try to turn Ratio against Aventurine and he did cast the whole Truth or Die spell but when you actually critically analyze Sunday and his role in the interaction he is more sympathetic and he makes more sense.

Aventurine was going into the interaction, an interaction regarding the IPC's increasingly aggressive attempts to recolonize Penacony after losing it as a prison planet, bragging about using the horrific murder of Sunday's sister to exploit him. Aventurine has never once hid his intentions, he's sympathetic but that doesn't change the fact he's trying to rip Penacony's freedom away for the IPC. We've seen what the IPC does to planets, no matter how corrupt the Family is, the IPC will be worse without a doubt. Aventurine is a morally grey character, he took the gamble of lying under the spell and he understood the stakes when he did it. Trying to bastardize Sunday in order to try and act like Aventurine didn’t have the autonomy to fuck around and find out is really disingenuous to both characters.

As for Sunday, Sunday is incredibly sympathetic too. We know he’s under crushing pressure by everyone around him to hide things for the sake of public image and we know he’s sacrificed a ton for his sister. Sunday is reverential of Xipe but we see him being actively wary of the Family. He knows there’s a traitor, he knows the Family is rotting with ill intent, he knows Death is on the loose. Robin and him are doing their damndest to handle these problems within their circumstances and we’ve seen their notes! They aren’t ignoring the problem, they’re even trying to get outside help from both the Astral Express and Aventurine. We see the Lightcone of their childhood in an otherwise clinical and impersonal office, one where he built her a toy stage and became her first audience. He cares about Robin more than anything and you see his rage and grief being suppressed yet slipping here and there and causing him to make sloppy mistakes, such as using the Truth or Die spell to lash out at Aventurine when he feels cornered with no control over the situation. When he confronts Gallagher he finally cracks and just… breaks. You see him lose it to the point he doesn’t even notice Death behind him until it’s too late. Despite being likened to songbirds, Robin and Sunday both died quietly in their gilded cages. They are the canaries in the coal mine.

Sunday and Aventurine are meant to parallel each other, they both lost their sister in a gruesome event outside of their control because they couldn’t protect her. Sunday couldn’t protect her from the cage he let himself be trapped in so she could fly free and Aventurine couldn’t protect her because he was too small and too young and too lucky. One is a younger brother and one is an elder brother.

The only major difference between them is who we experience the story through. Aventurine is our eyes for most of 2.1 so therefore Sunday is the one put in the antagonistic role. Antagonists are characters who’s motives and goals oppose the protagonists. Because of this, we have to flesh out Sunday’s character via subtext because we don’t have the luxury of his POV to be blatant like with Aventurine. If the roles reversed, if Sunday was our eyes, I bet Aventurine would be the one getting the flack instead.

#honkai star rail #finis analyzes #hsr aventurine #hsr robin #hsr sunday #I also had some people get upset with me for not liking Ratio and joking about it #I don’t like Ratio PERSONALLY #I do like him from a writing standpoint I think he’s a strong character narratively #My personal feelings don’t mean I don’t understand him or his motives or character it just means he gets on my nerves whenever he talks #I will never understand the need to water down a character’s actions to make them appear less morally grey #If you like the character their bad deeds come with it I’m sorry it’s part of them you can’t just exorcise them of their demons like that #The demons make them funny #Put that holy water away

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bosbas · 1 year ago

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Chapter 6: you had to kill me, but it killed you just the same

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 4.0k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love, angst, miscommunication (ish), lots of feelings in this one, benedict actually being the biggest idiot known to man, slow burn continues to slowly burn

Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.

A/N: kind of a Benedict heavy chapter oops

May 29, 1814 - The Featherington Ball two nights prior proved quite the romantic affair, prompting not one, not two, but three proposals in its aftermath. The inquisitive minds among you may inquire, 'To whom were these proposals directed?' But the more important question, dearest reader, is of the identity of the proposer. The answer is quite simple: it was Mr Nigel Berbrooke on all three occasions. And so, the members of the ton may be unsurprised to find that Mr Berbrooke was met with three swift rejections. One hopes that Mr Berbrooke will have a shift in fortune at the Smythe-Smith musicale tomorrow night.

Among other news, our esteemed diamond has fled the spotlight. Miss Y/N Beaumont has not been spotted in the ton since the night of the Featherington ball. While Mr. Alexander Beaumont, her brother, cited an awful headache as the reason for her early departure from the ball, this author wonders whether Miss Beaumont was simply through with the social scene. One could certainly not blame her if Nigel Berbrooke is the only man of the ton who has taken romantic action this season. Hopefully, the Smythe-Smith abode will provide a better stage for young love, and if not, then at least the musicale will undoubtedly prove very entertaining.

As Francesca finished her dramatic reading of the Whistledown column, she was met with resounding laughter from her siblings. Although Nigel Berbrooke's lackluster success in his romantic pursuits was amusing in itself, Lady Whistledown's sharp wit and Francesca's theatrical flare only added to the absurdity of his situation.

Even Benedict, who was in a disagreeable mood because he hadn't spoken to you since the ball, couldn't help but chuckle. Eloise, breathless from laughter, extended her heartfelt condolences to the three unfortunate ladies who had fallen victim to the decidedly disagreeable Mr. Berbrooke.

"Three proposals in two days, all met with rejection? Positively ghastly," remarked Anthony, shaking his head in amusement.

Hyacinth was quick with a playful dig at her older brother. "Bold of you to assume you would be more successful than him, brother," came her retort, met with more giggles from her sisters and a feigned gasp of offense from Anthony.

"I assure you I absolutely would, dear Hyacinth. To start, I would refrain from pursuing three women at once. But you can rest peacefully knowing that whenever I choose to propose, my future wife will say yes in an instant," he drawled, a playful arrogance underscoring his words.

"I'd certainly like to see you try," Ben spoke, a slight edge to his voice. "Proposing to someone, I mean." Anthony turned to face his brother on the couch and raised his eyebrows, unimpressed.

He retorted with an equally cutting edge to his voice, "In reality, Benedict, it seems that you are in a better position to propose than I am, don't you think?"

As the thick tension in the room became palpable, Francesca, Eloise, and Hyacinth held their breath in anxious anticipation. Though neither brother displayed outward aggression, their words carried an unmistakable undercurrent of intensity.

Benedict's breathing grew heavier, his eyes narrowing. Keeping his temper in check, he shot back sarcastically, "And what, pray tell, gives you that impression, dear brother?" Silent ripples of anger emanated from him, and the Bridgerton sisters felt a rising unease as the dispute seemed on the verge of eruption.

Sharp and deadly, Anthony's voice cut through the charged silence of the sitting room, "The fact that you already have someone to propose to, perhaps."

Anthony had barely finished speaking when Benedict rose abruptly, hands formed into tight fists at his sides. With a murderous look on his face, he ground out, "Actually, I don't believe I do."

Seeing Anthony open his mouth to respond, Ben cut in quickly, pure poison dripping from his voice, "You are mistaken, Anthony. I have absolutely no one to propose to. There is simply nothing there. Nothing that a marriage can be built on, at least. I am aware that Y/N is looking for a husband, but it will most certainly not be me."

Hyacinth let out a quiet gasp of disbelief, quickly covering her mouth. Benedict swiftly stormed out of the room, leaving his siblings in dumbfounded silence. After a brief pause, Anthony shook his head, cursing under his breath and running after Benedict.

Benedict could barely feel his legs, white-hot anger flooding through him as he made his way to his bedroom. Typically, in such intense moments, he sought solace outdoors or channeled his frustrations into his art. But he had spent too many afternoons watching your nose scrunch as you laughed on the swings with him in the garden, and the walls of his studio were entirely filled with endless incomplete sketches of you, so he found the prospect rather unbearable at the moment.

But he felt Anthony's firm hand on his shoulder before he could reach the staircase. Rolling his eyes and turning around, Ben spat a callous, "What?"

"Benedict, you are being ridiculous," came Anthony's response, in a tone of voice that was not unkind. "I cannot pretend to understand the inner workings of your friendship with Y/N, but I do know that you are inadvertently distracting her from finding a husband."

Entirely disarmed by his brother's change in tone, Benedict let out a long breath, defeated. He ran his hands through his hair, clearly frustrated by his impossible situation.

"Perhaps the kindest thing to do would be to let her go," pressed Anthony carefully, aware of the sensitivity of the topic. "I doubt she is aware of it herself, but the girl clearly has some sort of feelings for you, and you are only leading her on, so to speak."

Benedict could only nod, anxiously chewing at his lower lip. He knew his actions at the Featherington ball were not helping in your search for a husband, but it hurt just as much to stay away. Either way, Ben was desperate to speak with you. He knew he had to give you space, but it had been two days of complete silence from both of you, and he was itching to apologize properly.

---

As you waited outside of the Bridgerton residence, you shifted on your feet. Usually, you were happy to walk in unannounced, the closeness between your family and the Bridgertons removing the need for formalities. But you were nervous to see Ben. You hadn't seen him in a few days, let alone spoken to him, and you really would rather not have the conversation you were about to have with him. Cass suggested sending him a letter, but you couldn't imagine him opening it alone, reading that you wanted distance from him. It was much better to do this in person, and hopefully, he would understand your situation. He would have to, as the Smythe-Smith musicale was tonight, and both of you would be in attendance.

Steeling yourself, you opened the front door and walked in, greeting the butler with a smile and a short wave, as you usually did. You practically skipped to the back door, eager to see Benedict despite dreading the difficult conversation ahead. You found him on the swings, staring off into the vast expanse of the Bridgerton garden. As you reached him, you tapped his shoulder three times and uttered a soft "Hi, Ben."

Immediately turning toward you, his face lit up in joy, and he stood up to hug you tight, spinning you around. "Well, hello! It's been far too long. How have you been?"

As you both settled into the swings, you cleared your throat uncomfortably. "I've been alright. How about you?"

"I've been alright. Anthony has been as irritating as ever, but unfortunately, there's no cure for that at the minute," he answered, earning a soft laugh from you.

But your face dropped quickly, and you found yourself anxiously chewing your lip and staring into his perceptive eyes. Wordlessly, he asked you what was wrong with a slight tilt of his head and furrow of his brow.

You cleared your throat again and spoke, "I apologize for running off the other night. I feel like I should explain myself. I've had some time to think in the past few days, and I do realize that I overreacted a bit, and for that, I am sorry."

He reached over to grab your hand, rubbing his thumb in a comforting manner. Although it pained you, and you wanted nothing more than to lean into his touch, you carefully took your hand out of his grasp and set it in your own lap. A look of hurt flashed briefly across his eyes, and you felt your throat tighten and your stomach ache. But you had to continue. You had to get it all out now while you still had momentum.

"I just-" you paused. "Um, it might... benefit me... if we took some time apart," you said. You knew Benedict was trying to hide how crestfallen he truly was, but you knew him too well to be oblivious to his pain.

You quickly jumped into your loosely prepared speech, "I don't mean away completely! And I don't mean forever, of course. I just think I could benefit from us... not acting how we usually do while I am trying to attract suitors."

He let your words hang in the air, fully processing what you were saying. "Of course, whatever you need. I'm sorry if I was distracting you from-"

"No!" you cut in. "Not at all! I think I was more distracting myself. This is not your fault in the least, Ben, and I'm sorry it's affecting you."

With a small smile, he shook his head, "It's quite alright, darling. I understand completely."

Except you really didn't think he understood. At all.

"Maybe... maybe we could refrain from dancing at future balls? And perhaps it is not the best idea for you to call me darling. Or kiss me on the forehead. And I know I get anxious sometimes, and you really do help me when you hold my hand, but maybe we could refrain from that as well? And I still want to see you loads, obviously, but maybe I won't ignore any potential suitors who come calling in the mornings in favor of coming to see you here."

Benedict was staring at you dumbly. Hearing you say, out loud, everything that needed to change, it was astounding to him how close of a friendship the two of you had. But he understood. Oh, did he understand. And he would do anything for you, even if anything involved giving up ballroom dances, because, let's be honest, who else would he dance with if not you. He realized you were staring at him expectantly, and he nodded quickly.

"Yes, yes, of course, dar-" He cringed internally. Perhaps this would be more challenging than expected. "Yes, of course, Y/N," he finished.

You smiled back gratefully, responding, "Well, that's settled then."

---

Benedict's earlier confidence in his ability to refrain from touching you was proving to be completely misguided. He had been at the musicale for barely an hour before he felt himself nearly vibrating with the need to be close to you. He had watched as you talked with suitor after suitor, patiently waiting for you to come over when you had a spare moment. But the spare moment never came. You were utterly enthralled in your conversations, not even sparing him a glance. The only time you had spoken to him was a small "Hello!" in passing as you walked across the ballroom holding Lord Egerton's forearm. At least you were not ignoring him purposefully, but he was still moping dejectedly about the ballroom, unable to join in the lively banter his siblings and yours always provided.

His night had not improved much by the time the musicale was over. His mother had pleaded with him to dance with Penelope Featherington, and he had begrudgingly complied. Of course, he usually enjoyed the girl's company, but tonight, he would have preferred to sulk in a corner of the ballroom by himself. Ben had also gone to the terrace with Colin and Alex but quickly opted to go back inside and torture himself by keeping an eye on you. The whole time he observed you, he could feel an unpleasant feeling deep in his stomach that traveled up his torso until it settled uncomfortably in his chest. It was an exercise in masochism, watching you flirt and smile and even giggle with other men. But Ben knew he could do nothing about it, aside from stewing in his own despair, of course. You had explicitly asked him for a chance to properly be courted without his interference, and it would be cruel to disallow you that.

While Benedict had a relatively uneventful but painful evening, you barely had a moment to yourself. Gentleman after gentleman, followed by mama after mama, came to ask you to dance or talk to you. You smiled through it all, of course, but as the night wore on, you became more and more irritable, finding that you simply wanted to go and chat to Benedict for a few minutes, to take a break from social niceties and have a laugh or two with him, at least. But you needed to stay focused, or your talk with Ben would have been for nothing.

After hours of listening to the grueling sounds of the Smythe-Smiths playing various instruments, you rejoiced when your mother interrupted your conversation with some earl or viscount and his mother. Their names escaped you, but at this point in the night, you were proud of yourself for even giving them more than one-word answers. Politely excusing yourself from the pair, you smiled gratefully at your mother, who only laughed good-naturedly at your distress.

"I didn't see you talking to Ben much tonight. Is everything alright with the two of you?"

You looked at your mother, cringing. "That obvious, was it?"

She gave you a questioning look and smiled, answering, "Given that the two of you usually are attached at the hip at every event you attend, yes, it was quite obvious."

You rolled your eyes at her, hiding how truly upset you were that you and Ben had taken some time apart. "We were not that attached! Besides, it's only one ball where I was more focused on finding a husband than my best friend. You should be happy!"

---

It had not, in fact, been only one ball. You had now gone five consecutive balls without dancing with Benedict. Opportunities to talk with you at these events were scarce, and he was lucky if he managed to secure a mere five minutes alone. Colin had noticed him looking dejected and morose at every social event, not that Ben was trying particularly hard to hide it, and asked about you. Benedict's response to his brother's concern was curt and evasive, a gruff "everything is fine."

Despite the distance, Ben found solace in your afternoons together after you had finished seeing callers. The moment you saw him, you would relax and launch into a lengthy explanation of the latest exciting information you had acquired from the vast library in the Beaumont home since none of the "so-called gentlemen" bothered to listen to you, as you put it.

He did enjoy your ramblings and appreciated the opportunity to ramble himself, launching into detailed studies of his favorite artists of the time. However, he was finding himself less able to put on a happy front when he barely talked to you for days at a time. At this point, he was not even harboring any negative feelings toward any of your suitors; he just missed you. His days felt empty and long, not having been apart from you for this long since before you could speak, probably. His family had noticed, and he was growing sick of their soft voices and careful treatment of him. He just wanted you back. He wanted to feel your head on his lap again and spend hours by your side in his art studio, painting on a canvas as you sat near him and read. Most of all, he missed the comfortable intimacy that came with your friendship, the quiet understanding that had been feeling out of sorts since you asked him for some space.

So, when you had bounded into the Bridgerton home this afternoon, carrying a new book in tow, he knew he couldn't go on the way the two of you were right now. You immediately noticed Benedict's tense mood, even more so than usual, and did not relent until he spoke to you about what was bothering him. You had a feeling you knew what he was going to say, having also felt his absence to the point of distraction, and had prepared to have a talk with Ben whenever he was ready. You would usually give in to anything he asked of you, having little to no self-control when it came to Benedict Bridgerton, but you knew you had to be strong today.

Seeing his bloodshot eyes, you placed a comforting hand on Ben's shoulder, breaking one of your rules but not finding it in you to care. He put his hand over yours, instantly feeling better than he had in over a week.

"It's just hard, isn't it? Have you felt it, too?" he looked at you, feeling a tad vulnerable.

You looked away, unable to meet his eyes for fear that you would start crying. You took a breath before answering, steeling yourself. "I have. It is proving to be quite difficult. But I need to find a husband, Ben," you said, your voice firm. "So, unless you're willing to marry me, it does have to be like this," you tried to make a lighthearted comment, but the crack in your voice gave you away too easily.

Your words left him speechless, and if he was completely candid, he could have cried right then and there. Benedict understood what you were saying. What you were implying, rather. And he shook his head, voice soft, "I can't do that, Y/N. I'm so sorry."

Of course, you had expected this answer, but it didn't make it any less difficult to know that Ben was still opposed to the idea of marrying you after having experienced the last week or so. So you nodded, finally looking at him, a sad smile gracing your lips.

"I guess that's our answer, then," you spoke.

Your words were a complete blow to his chest. He felt like he was going to be sick. Because, of course, this didn't only mean that the two of you would not be married, something Benedict already knew. This meant that your friendship could truly never be the same. The search for a husband you didn't even want was simply an insurmountable obstacle.

At least for today, he could still pretend things were normal. Your hand was still enclosed in his, and for a moment, he could forget all that had transpired and just enjoy the feel of your skin against his and the promise of an afternoon full of your entertaining and lighthearted literary commentary.

---

Violet was at her wit's end. She could recognize that her son was being a complete idiot, said with affection, of course. However, Violet would not stand for you, Benedict's best friend, her own best friend's daughter, looking absolutely heartbroken night after night, talking to men who would never understand you in the way that Ben did, and who did not even want to try. She knocked on his studio door and, upon entering, let out a deep sigh at the sheer volume of sketches of your face, your hands, your eyes, and just you in general that adorned her son's art studio.

The dowager viscountess cleared her throat with an air of authority, ready to give Benedict some much-needed tough love. Once she had made herself comfortable, sitting on the couch facing Ben, Violet clasped her hands in front of her. She could tell Ben was already dreading what she was going to say.

"Benedict, my sweet. You know, when I married your father, I was over the moon to be marrying someone I was not only in love with but also someone I could call my dear friend. In my experience, friendship as the foundation of a marriage creates the best kind of partnership."

Ignoring Benedict's increasingly tense energy, she continued, "I know you have an extraordinary friendship with Y/N. Everyone knows, actually. One can very clearly see that the two of you care for one another, and a friendship as special as that is not easy to come by."

Seeing her son open his mouth to interject, Violet silenced him with a stern look, not in the mood to be interrupted. "I fear that if you do not take advantage of this wonderful gift you have been given, your best friend will end up married to another man, and your friendship will be lucky to survive."

Benedict had had quite enough already. Anthony, then you, his mother, and even Hyacinth and Colin were all telling him the same thing, clearly not understanding that he simply did. Not. Want. To. Marry. You.

He was through feeling wounded; his hurt had transformed into full-blown anger. Being mindful to keep his voice in check, he spoke with as loud of a voice as was appropriate, desperate for anyone to actually listen to what he was saying.

"Mother, I appreciate your concern. But as I have told Anthony, Y/N, Hyacinth, and Colin, I do not wish to marry Y/N. I did not want to marry her two months ago, before her debut, and I do not want to marry her now. I am sick of everyone telling me what I want or what they think I should do. I know that I do not want her, and that will be the end of the discussion, thank you very much."

Benedict barely processed his mother's sympathetic look in response to his declaration, ignoring the hand he felt on his shoulder. Disappointed and a bit sad for your future, Violet walked out of his studio, knowing Ben wouldn't continue the conversation further.

Of course, what Benedict had told his mother was a lie. A lie so often repeated in his head he had been inclined to believe it for the better part of the last decade of your friendship. But deep down, Benedict knew it wasn't the truth.

The truth was that marriage was your worst nightmare. He was all too familiar with your grievances toward the institution, having heard you talk about your distaste for having to find a husband since childhood. Ben had spent years by your side, listening to you express your aversion to marriage over and over again. You were convinced you would be miserable after being wed, endlessly searching for something more: a freedom you thought you could never achieve once you were married.

And so, he could not marry you. It was selfish, to be sure, but he did not want your distaste and displeasure with marriage directed at him. He would give you anything else, but not this. In Benedict's opinion, if he married you, you would grow to dislike him, feeling trapped within the confines of your relationship.

Throughout your shared childhood, Ben watched you grow into an incredibly smart woman, and your growth inevitably brought about a growing hostility toward your future as a wife. He was intimately familiar with the fear that brought about this hostility, and he couldn't bring himself to be the person who made these fears come true.

Benedict knew that the two of you could learn to love each other if you were married. This was, of course, assuming that he wasn't already in love with you, which he could not bear to think about properly. He just didn't think he could survive it. Having a front-row seat to the unhappiness you would feel after being married and watching you fall out of love with him because of it. He simply couldn't be the cause of that. He cared about you too much to take that risk. So he chose to stay away instead, even if it meant the end of years of close friendship and love and intimacy.

—

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