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#but you have to believe her and my guess is that a second option gets unlocked later
mvltiwritez1 · 1 day
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Culinary Genius - Angela Giarratana x Fem!Reader
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SUMMARY: during a two truths one lie video, Y/n reveals a truth that no one in the office knew.
WARNING(S): light swearing
DISCLAIMER: the truths and lie for Y/n may not be true to you but just imagine. Also not really romance, just a cute scenario.
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Y/n sat across from Angela with the last card in her hand. Angela had guessed each of her lies right and she guessed all of Angela's lies right but she knew that this last round would stump her.
"My first statement is; 'I once broke my wrist doing parkour' Shayne style, second; 'I have read 100 books since January and it is now May' and the last one is; 'I am considered a really good cook'" Y/n read off the options written on the card, a soft smile on her face as she looked back at her. Angela narrowed her eyes at the woman, thinking of a question.
"When did you break your wrist?" She asked, leaning forward. Y/n looked up to remember when.
"I broke it when I was about thirteen/fourteen. I was with a couple of friends and we just liked jumping around on stuff and one time I fell off of a playground structure and completely broke my wrist" She replied, holding up the wrist that went through the trauma. Angela looked at her wrist and nodded, thinking of another question. Murmurs commenced behind them from Amanda, Courtney, and Arasha but Y/n wasn't paying attention to them. She was waiting for another question.
"You're a reader so the 100 books isn't that hard to believe. And of course, I've never heard anyone talk about your cooking skills. I think it would've come up" Angela thought aloud and Y/n tilted her head innocently.
"I think you're lying about the 'good cook' thing. It definitely would've come up" Angela continued and Y/n raised her eyebrows slightly and brought her head back upright.
"Is that your final answer?" Y/n asked and Angela nodded, confident from her correct guessing the other rounds. She even went to get her gun but Y/n quickly reached for hers and shot at her first, causing Angela to gasp and look up at Y/n in surprise. She grinned widely at Angela and set the gun down, as well as her.
"What?! You're a 'really good' cook?!" Angela put air quotes over 'really good'. Y/n nodded, chuckling slightly. Angela looked at the camera and then at the gallery, seeing different surprised looks on the others' faces.
"No one knew but I learned a lot about cooking all my life. Family recipes, techniques for different cooking styles. Some people who have tried my cooking have told me I'm 'really good' it's not just a self title" Y/n scratched at the back of her neck nervously.
"That's crazy. You need to show me your skills soon" Angela chuckled. Y/n shrugged.
"I'm down" She replied, Angela smiled.
"Aweeee it's a little date" Amanda said in a baby voice and everyone laughed.
"Wait. What was the lie?" Angela asked and Y/n went to answer her question.
——
When they were done filming, Y/n's shirt had somewhat dried but she still brought another shirt to change into so she went to her bag at her desk and got the shirt so she could change in the gender neutral bathroom.
She was looking at her phone as she walked towards the bathroom, she collided with someone but quickly caught them before they could both fall. Y/n dropped her phone accidentally but focused her eyes and found Angela in her arms, flustered. Y/n smiled and helped her get back to her feet.
"I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention" Angela blushed, picking up a bag off of the floor. It was probably a change of clothes as well. Y/n picked up her phone and held her new shirt tighter in her hand, checking the screen.
"It's no problem, I shouldn't have been on my phone" Y/n chuckled and put her phone in her pocket before looking back at Angela.
"Well I'll see you later" the brunette said, recovering from being caught. She left and Y/n continued on her route to the bathroom, having an idea.
——
The work day was done and Y/n set her bag on the hook near the door, taking her laptop out of the bag. She set it down on her couch before immediately going back out to bring her groceries into her apartment.
She had decided to make one of her signature grilled sandwiches, simple but did the job. She thought back to the time that she and Angela had lunch and the brunette ordered a plain grilled cheese. Y/n wanted to make it the way she usually did which was normally with sourdough bread, compound butter - to add an acidity and extra flavour to the bread - and sliced marble cheese. She wouldn't make Angela's until lunch the next day but she blended the butter with parsley, lemon juice, and a little bit of red wine vinegar. Y/n also put the butter in a container, ready to take to the office tomorrow.
Dinner for her was just one of those sandwiches since they were quite easy to make. Y/n changed out of her work clothes and brought up Angela's contact on her phone.
Y/n<3: Hey I just want to say, don't bring lunch tomorrow. Or buy it, ok? Also meet me in the kitchen at lunch.
Angela shortly replied,
Ange: ok...why?
Y/n<3: Can't tell you, it's a surprise ;)
Ange: lol alrighty then
Angela probably thought Y/n was crazy but she decided to go along with it.
——
Angela got done filming a Smosh Games video and Amanda walked up to her, a smile on her face.
"Lunch?" Amanda asked, seemingly knowing the answer.
"Sorry 'Manda, Y/n told me not to get anything for lunch and meet her in the kitchen and I said I would." Angela looked apologetic, Amanda smirked and raised her eyebrows.
"She's going to cook for you. She kept her word" Angela actually had forgotten what they'd filmed the previous day. It was close to the end of the week so that was bound to happen. Her eyes widened and Amanda chuckled.
"Enjoy Ange" Amanda said and went up to Courtney, striking a conversation with them.
Angela walked to the kitchen and saw Y/n in there, setting some things up. Angela smiled softly and walked in, causing Y/n to look up.
"Hey! You must've been wondering why I asked you not to get lunch or bring one" Y/n leaned against the counter, her uncovered arms holding her up as she looked at the slightly shorter woman.
"Well I think I know why now" Angela chuckled and approached the island in the kitchen, looking at the ingredients.
"What are you making?" She asked and Y/n smiled back at her.
"I'm glad you asked, I'm making a grilled cheese" Y/n said confidently and Angela snickered.
"Hey, don't disrespect my sandwich game baby" Y/n stood up fully and reached for the sourdough. Angela blushed at the pet name but cleared her throat to calm herself.
Y/n took the butter container and a butter knife and spread the butter on the pieces of bread, parsley in with the butter as well. Angela looked in confusion.
"What's that?" She knew how to cook, pretty well actually but she hadn't expected something other than butter.
"It's compound butter. Usually people use this stuff for enhancing the flavour in meats, vegetables, and even baked goods but I use it for sandwiches sometimes" Y/n explained and walked over to the pan on the stove with a plate of ingredients. Angela nodded, watching the process in interest.
"Is there anything extra you want on it? Or just cheese" Y/n asked, placing one of the pieces of buttered bread in the pan as well as the cheese.
"No thank you" She smiled. She kind of felt like a child but was excited about trying whatever Y/n cooked. Y/n smiled and nodded, putting the top piece of bread on the sandwich, closing it off. She turned the stove on and turned around to face Angela.
"You know you really didn't have to do this." Angela continued, her back leaning against the kitchen island. Y/n shrugged her shoulders.
"I said I would cook for you and this was an easy way to do so. Though it's a bit of a bummer it's not fancy" Y/n joked at that last bit. She then turned around and checked the bottom of the sandwich, it was a perfect golden brown so she flipped it over to cook the other side.
"Dude, you're literally making me a sandwich for lunch because you said you could cook. It doesn't have to be fancy. It didn't even have to happen" Angela said, stepping closer to Y/n. She stood beside her at the stove and looked at the sandwich, it looked amazing already.
"It's almost done" Y/n looked at Angela before pressing down on the sandwich to fully cook the other side and make sure the cheese is melted.
Soon enough, Y/n checked the other side and turned the stove off once she saw the golden brown colour on the bread. She then plated it and gave it to Angela.
"Your lunch Madam" Y/n put on a terrible English accent and Angela laughed as she grabbed the plate.
"Aren't you going to have one? Because I can wait" Angela asked and Y/n smiled at the respectful nature of Angela when it came to this.
"I already made one this morning so let's go sit" Y/n replied, dropping the accent. She would go back and wash everything she used after being done with lunch.
They both walked out and sat in the seating area. Angela let it cool off while Y/n opened her lunch bag, pulling out a sandwich cut into triangles.
They both took a bite at the same time. Flavour bursted in Angela's mouth and she made a noise in surprise. Y/n watched her and gauged her reaction to be positive. Angela took another bite as Amanda and Courtney sat at their table.
"Hey guys. What did you make?" Amanda asked, sitting down with a salad.
"I made a grilled cheese for her" Y/n replied and Courtney's eyebrows rose.
"Oh! Is Y/n's cooking skills as good as she says?" Courtney asked Angela. The brunette hadn't said anything yet but she looked up at them, a closed smile on her face. She nodded enthusiastically and Y/n blushed.
"Now I'm wishing I didn't get a salad" Amanda joked, winking at Y/n, Y/n and Courtney laughed.
"Honestly that sandwich smells really good. And I'm not usually a sandwich girlie" Courtney said, patting Y/n on the back softly.
"Thank you thank you. They're my specialty" Y/n flipped her hair jokingly as Angela finished off the sandwich.
"Good?" Y/n asked.
"So good. Holy shit Y/n, why did you hide this skill from us?" Angela asked and Y/n chuckled.
"Well I didn't hide it per se. I just never brought it up" Y/n smiled cheekily.
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hecksupremechips · 2 years
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Hey uh what the actual fuck is wrong with the Iris route in aitsf????
#please help me#i just finished it and granted. i am so so so sleep deprived and out of my mind#but literally all of it was weird as shit??/?#lemme try to summarize#in mizukis psynch date finds iris dead body and later finds the body in the warehouse#so is the main suspect and he goes into sos mind and ends up saving iris#iris sticks with date and they get attacked by these guys on the way to marble#iris says shes being targeted by a secret cult#we go into her mind and theres 2 branching paths at the end but youre only given one choice and thats to believe iris#which i fucking dont believe her cuz its weird as shit and date is acting really weird at this point#but you have to believe her and my guess is that a second option gets unlocked later#afterwards we find out that pewter sent the guys after iris and that renju is possibly part of the evil cult#and both of them were in one falcos escape#iris is then kidnapped and we save her in a fever dream fight scene#she then tells date that renju came into her house that one night and tried to drag her into an abandoned factory#we go there and theres a psynch machine and iris starts dying and we go into her mind AGAIN#and it looks like we save her but then she dies anyways the end#plus she seemed like she was gonna ask us something important maybe date is her dad idk anymore#my theory is that this route takes place in a fucked up dream reality and its not real#because it all just feels super off#or this game is just really bad lol#i cant judge just yet i suppose but damn oof its given me a migraine#i gotta say im not very into iris maybe its just cuz im salty and confused but damn i just got tired of this bitch#kept waiting for her route to end lol#like i really dont know how any of this shit is gonna tie into the rest of the plot#its like i just started playing a completely different game man wtf#plus i hate iris and dates relationship cuz you really cant tell if you should call the fbi or not#is it familial or is date really gonna go after a fucking high school girl. either way i dont like#someone who knows this game please tell me if im going crazy or not#i miss the mizuki route it was perfect 😭
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seospicybin · 9 months
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TOO HOT TO HANDLE.
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PART I
Felix x reader. (s)
Too Hot To Handle Masterlist
Synopsis: You and Felix become contestants in a reality dating show, Too Hot To Handle. (15,4k words)
Author's note: It's kind of experimental turning this into a fanfic but hope you enjoy it. Part II will be out next week x
Content warning: This is entirely a work of fiction and not affiliated with real Too Hot To Handle show.
YOU: I think physical appearance is not that important. It's all about confidence. [flips hair] I think all women should carry their self with confidence, stand tall, and always strive to be better. 
But when you look at me, I'm pretty much a smoke show [laughs] I'd date myself if I could [laughs]
My ideal type is someone with a distinct charm. I'd love to see a tattoo or two on a man and someone who knows how to keep it exciting, cause I get bored easily [blows kisses to the camera]
-
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
That's why you accept your cousin's offer in exchange for money that would save you from getting kicked out of your apartment and from dropping out of college.
She was in a desperate time too when she reached out to you as one of the contestants decided to drop out of the reality show she worked in as the casting director.
Guess desperate times reached out to each other.
But you, as a nobody with less than a hundred followers on Instagram and you believe half of them are bots, have no experience of being in front of the camera, doubting that you'll do well in it.
Other than that, you think reality shows are just a waste of time, they have no educational value but dumb people down.
But what option do you have? You're broke, jobless, and a week away from being homeless when the offer came.
"What's the reality show about again?" You ask your cousin, Sara.
She rolls her eyes at you, it's probably the umpteenth time you asked her about it again. "It's on the description."
It's on the pile of papers she gave you but you're too lazy to read that many pages written in small fonts with single spaces.
You have to bring it close to your face to read it.
A group of determined singles visit paradise to meet, mingle, and remain celibate for their chance to win $200,000.
"So..." you stop reading after seeing the amount of money you can win from it, "it's basically a dating show."
"Yes," she answers, "but... you will not be allowed to kiss or touch or have sex."
"Oh, thank God!" You let out a long sigh of relief.
Yes, you need the money but knowing that you don't have to do such things for a reality show makes you feel relieved. At least when one of your peers knows, you wouldn't have to be embarrassed about it. You can say you did it for the experience, but spare the part that you did it for quick money.
Another question pops into your head, "But then... how are we going to date each other if we're not allowed to kiss or touch and whatnot?" 
Sara smiles at you, "See? That's the catch!"
She gets all excited in a second, "you have to resist each other from going at it," she further explains as her eyes turn a little loopy.
"Oh, so they'll be sex in it?"
She chuckles, "Maybe yes. Maybe not. Who knows?"
That's a vague answer and you still don't get how she would make money from making a reality show but doubtfully giving people what they want.
It's not like you're in it to actually find someone to date. You agree to join because she promised you more money once the shooting is done.
You're going to stay at a gorgeous villa on an island with a few people and try not to be in each other's pants, which is not what you intend to do in the first place.
What's so hard about it anyway? 
-
Wow!
You might have missed the part that you have to be dressed in provocative swimwear and show as much skin as possible in the papers Sara gave you.
However, there's this one motto that always works to make you through the day.
Fake it till you make it and you have no other option but to fake it.
Your hair is styled into loose waves to make it look like you've been spending time at the beach and thankfully, you're allowed to do your own make-up. You put on a simple one, put a little blush on your cheek, and a layer of shiny gloss over your lips.
You changed into a two-piece bikini and look at yourself in the mirror.
Damn, you don't even have to fake it anymore. You look hot and you think that's why they still passed you as a contestant despite knowing that Sara is a relative of yours.
The first segment of the reality show is contestants entering the villa one by one, but in your case, you have to do it with another gorgeous girl.
"I'm Maeve," she introduced herself in a cute Irish accent.
You might or might have not just checked her out from head to toe before shaking her hand back to introduce yourself back.
You're taller than her but that's what makes her cute. She has that pretty dirty blonde hair and a nice smile, exuding a very positive vibe. You like her already.
The staff gives you the cue to start walking into the gravel path that leads to the villa while the cameras take you from every angle possible to capture your best features.
By best features, you mean your breasts and boobs, anything that possibly makes people think that's how a perfect body should be.
You are against female objectification but again, what other choice do you have? Giving up your principles just so you can live another day in this capitalist world.
Cheers welcoming both of you as the other contestants that have made their entrance before you, watching you step into the scene.
You can feel their eyes on you, either in envy or lust or things in between. You introduce yourself around with hugs and kisses, which is not how you usually introduce yourself.
Once they handed you a welcome drink which is a glass of warm champagne from being under the sun too long, it's when you see each one of them better.
Your confidence deflates in an instant because they're all way hotter and sexier than you. They look good in their bikinis and their hair is perfectly tousled like they rolled out of bed looking that gorgeous.
You're not just talking about the female contestants, the male too are incredibly stunning, their abs are on display since they're only wearing swimming trunks, their skins glowing under the sun.
You find yourself fanning your neck just from stealing glances at it.
"Hot, huh?" The other girl asks you, one with a perfect bone structure and full lips.
You lightly chuckle, "Everyone in here is hot," you carefully with what you said, aware that a mic is attached to your body.
"I know right?" She says with a flirty smile.
After a moment, you learn her name is Laura and she's the epitome of a hot girl. She has the perfect hair, perfect body, perfect nails, and even the way her hair parted is perfectly in the middle. Other than that, Laura, like other pretty girls, has it easy in her life, she's a social media influencer with 300k-something followers and said she's here for 'shit and giggles', her words, not yours.
A lot more male contestants enter the villa and everyone refills their champagne flutes as the temperature raises. You can't tell if it's because you're so close to the beach or there's just a lot of heat in here, or it could be that you're panicking inside and try not to show it.
Your cousin Sara is wrong about one thing.
There's not just one catch, they're all a catch and you can't do anything about them.
-
YOU: I feel like I'm in an ice cream shop and they have all of my favorite flavors. Vanilla, chocolate, salted caramels, cookies, and cream... [bites thumb] I just can't wait to have a scoop of each flavor [chuckles]
-
After the introduction and draining six bottles of champagne in the process, everyone is allowed to explore the place, get familiar with each other, and mingle.
Well, of course, you have to do your part, be flirty with them but you don't intend to go into that yet. Not when your confidence level is at its lowest that you can't even fake it anymore.
You sit by the lounge chair by the beach, enjoying the view of the beach while trying to ignore all the cameras filming you.
One of the cameramen suddenly got closer to get an angle when you notice that one of the male contestants is coming to the beach and you see no one else there but you.
Suddenly, you feel alarmed, immediately check your appearance, and got you wondering why that is your first reaction. This never happens in real life.
"Hi," he says, sitting on the other lounge chair next to you.
You raise yourself from the longue chair, supporting the back of your head with a cushion.
"Hi," you finally say back, trying to sound calm yet sultry like how Laura speaks.
You notice that he speaks in an accent that you can't quite decipher its origin, "may I know what accent is that?"
"It's French, but I do speak German as well," he says.
"And English," you point out.
He chuckles, "That too!"
"I learn that everyone has an exotic accent while I'm here with the most basic accent," you say and it surprises you how well you're doing at being an obnoxious reality show star.
He smiles, showing his perfectly good teeth, "Nah, I think you're cute."
And surprises yourself again at how receptive you are, smiling at his compliment. You laugh to yourself as you try to remember his name, everyone introduced themselves too quickly earlier and gave you no time to memorize them.
"I'm sorry. What's your name again?"
"Alex," he says, taking another step towards you as if he wasn't standing close enough.
Alex is super tall, super attractive, muscles in all the right places and you have never cared about such things in a man before. Alex has nice brown skin and soft curly hair, he's charming in a way that subtly grows in you.
"Well, Alex, how come you're so tall?" You playfully ask him, holding your champagne flute close to your face.
"I play basketball," he answers.
You click your tongue in awe and at the same time, feel afraid that Alex has raised your standards of men to a whole new level.
-
YOU: Alex is hot. Isn't that obvious? That French accent ooh... [whistles] and he plays basketball. He's like a tall glass of water and I'm super thirsty.
-
He's hot, he's tall, he speaks three languages, and he also plays sports. What else can he do? You wonder...
"What about you?" He asks.
You think for a moment, "Well, I only speak English," you answer with giggles.
He leans forward and puts his elbows on his knees, looking at you with an intense stare.
"I can speak cat language too if that counts," you add.
He raises an eyebrow at you, "So you're a cat person, huh?"
"Yes, I am."
"I see..." he says, looking at you with an even more intense stare, "you like to be spoiled, huh?"
You turn to lay on your side to show him the curve of your body and bite your lower lip as you bravely stare back at him, "who doesn't like to be spoiled?"
Alex licks his lip as you catch him glancing at your lips, he thought of kissing you for sure but has no idea what stops him.
"What animal person are you?" You ask as the conversation starts to dry up.
He props a hand under his chin, "Why don't you guess?"
You tap your lips with your index finger to subtly tease him, "A puma?" You wildly guess.
He laughs, "Why?"
"I got the impression that you're wild, can't be tamed," you say whatever it is crossed your head at that moment.
You don't think Alex would care anyway with what you're saying because all he can think about is whether he should kiss you or not.
"Am I right? Or am I not wrong?" You dare him by closing the gap a few inches short.
Yet he remains in his seat and you're getting bored of waiting already. You retreat from keeping this going and sit up on the longue chair.
"I think I have to start getting ready for the party," you excuse yourself.
You're not proud that you're back to being such a bitch who plays with men but gosh, something about this reality show that brings out the bad girl in you.
-
YOU: Perhaps it's too early for him to get his move on someone. I think he wants to keep his options open and that's what I'm doing as well, I want to get to know a few of them and see if I... uh can have some fun.
-
The males are already waiting at the beach for the party.
The females are taking longer time to get ready because there is so much to do, hair, make-up and even putting fake acrylic nails.
You have lived as a woman for twenty-three years but only realized now how exhausting it is to be one. Not that you don't like it but people oftentimes don't give women enough credit for it.
"Come here, you sexy!" One of the males says.
Wow. What a way to impress a woman!
Everyone is sitting on the benches set around a bonfire and drinking cocktails with umbrellas in them, sipping and talking, checking each other out in secret or not so secret
A player recognizes another player so there's no use for all contestants to play naive, pretending that they're just here to sit around bonfire and make friends.
Everyone knows that they're here to get wild and becomes famous by doing it on a reality show. Except you thought, you don't want to go that far.
"Icebreaker time!" Says the girl with brunette hair and rosy cheeks. You believe her name is Heidi.
"Each one of us will take turns to stand in the middle with a blindfold on and anyone can do anything to that person. In the end, they have to guess who did it," she explains but more like babbling around the words while seductively chuckling in between words.
You don't get what she's saying but try to learn the game by watching as she takes the first turn to set an example. Heidi is a total babe, it's impossible if no one wants to have a piece of her.
A male comes up to her and has a deep kiss that put everyone to shame. One look and you can tell that it's one hell of a kiss. You sip the drink you've been holding in your hand.
Your heart is drumming the closer it gets to your turn, afraid that someone does things with you but it would be more embarrassing if no one does things with you.
So far, everyone at least has a kiss or a smooch, Laura even lets a guy touch her ample bosoms. You haven't made a move yet and it's kind of a requirement that you show your wild side because that's the idea of the show.
It's Jamie or that's what you remember his name is. He's taking his turn and putting a blindfold on, he looks gorgeous wearing a white shirt and short pants.
Jamie has glowing tan skin and six-pack abs, his hair must have skipped months of a haircut but rocking it all right. He keeps brushing his hair to the back, knowing that it looks better when it's messy.
You take a glance at everyone and none of them seem to make a move on him, impulsively, you get up from the stool and come up to him.
It's when you stand in front of him you have no idea what to do with him or more like, you have tons of ideas of what you want to do but can't choose one.
Everyone else is watching from their seats in anticipation, you shut down your brain from thinking and just go with it. You stand on your tiptoe and kiss him on the neck, covering your lips once you're done to not give him any clue that it's you who kissed him.
You run back to your seat and see what his reaction is once he takes his blindfold off. Next, Jamie has to guess who is it and to avoid looking suspicious, you calmly sip your drink and watch him guess who did it.
After taking too much time observing, he gives up, "I don't know. But whoever it is, I kind of want more," he says.
You try to remain calm and take another sip, looking anywhere but not in his direction.
It's finally your turn, your heart is beating faster and you wonder if the audio guy can hear it too with the mic resting around your neck.
Taking a quiet deep breath, you tie the blindfold over your eyes and around your head. You can only hope for the best now and block every insecurity that tries to reside in your head.
"Ooh..." everyone coos in unison and that only means someone is coming or about to do things to you.
Nervous, you clench and unclench your fists to calm yourself. Then a pair of hands gently cup your face and tilts your head upward.
Not ready for it, this mysterious person kisses your open mouth and proceeds to kiss you more, using his tongue in the most pleasurable way to taste you.
Damn! He's a good kisser and you reflexively respond to his kisses with your hands holding theirs. For a split second, you forget that you're in the middle of shooting a reality show and everyone is going to watch it.
You gasp the second they let go and have you fixing your lipstick because there's no way that phenomenal kiss not smudging it.
"Whoa. Can barely think after that kiss," you shamelessly tell everyone as you act drunk as you walk back to your seat.
Sipping your drink, you secretly assess everyone and try to guess which one of them kissed you. They're all hot anyway, it's not a loss to kiss one of them and you didn't know why you were fussing about it earlier.
Since Laura is taking the last turn and everyone seems to be whipped by her, you can see that all the male contestants anticipated this. You bet they're lining up to get a kiss from her.
It takes only a few seconds for anyone to make a move, the first one to have it is Daniel with half of his body covered in tattoos. He has a lean body and that bad boy attitude, he confidently strides to kiss Laura on the lips, so hard that she gasps in surprise.
You find yourself clapping at two people doing lewd things in front of a group of people. When you think Daniel is the only one succeeding in having a piece of Laura, another one takes his turn.
You almost scoff seeing Alex holds her by the neck and kisses her so deeply. Instant turn off, all those charms he has seems to be wiped off your head in a second.
-
YOU: Well, now we all know why Alex didn't kiss me [laughs] He likes someone else and that's good, I'll stop chasing him from here [sucks air through teeth] and on to the next one! [Raises hand triumphantly]
-
Moving on to the next segment, you prepare yourself for your act.
Sara is nice enough to let you know what the show is really about. When you ask everyone else, they believe that they're on a dating show and are here for partying and having fun and such.
Well, until... the cone-shaped talking pops out of its hiding and stops the party and the fun altogether.
"Hi, I'm Lana, and welcome to Too Hot Too Handle!"
Everyone stops talking and turns serious while deep inside you will find pleasure from their pain.
"You have been specially selected because you are all choosing meaningless sex over genuine relationships."
"That's true, though!" One of the males says and the other chuckles along.
"The purpose of this retreat is to help you gain deeper emotional connections in your personal relationships."
Daniel seems to be taking the news badly, "I'm not here for that!" He comments.
"As always, there are conditions to your stay here. You must abstain from sexual practices for the entirety of your stay."
Everyone is groaning in frustration, covering their eyes as if not having sex will make them die.
"No kissing. No heavy petting. And no sex of any kind."
More groans are spilling out of everyone's mouth.
"This also applies to self-gratification."
Wait! You didn't know that you'll not be allowed to touch yourself. Your body and you can't do anything about it.
-
YOU: The second I saw Lana, I know it's bad. But I didn't know it's that bad. Can't even touch myself? What?
-
"However, to aid your development, I've increased the prize fund to $200.000."
That one gets everyone hyped and jumping in excitement, including you. Thinking of that much money, you can shrug all your financial problems away. 
"Each time the rules are broken, money will be deducted from the prize fund."
But this one gets you down immediately, there's a possibility that no money will be left with all these horny people locked in a villa together.
"Everyone, welcome to the retreat!"
"Ugh!"
-
YOU: Everyone is pissed off, including me. But you know, something about being told not to do something only makes me want to do it [bites lip]
-
No, you're not pissed off about it. Sex is something you can easily avoid doing, you just need to keep it in your pants and that's what you're going to do.
You want the prize so much and want to put your focus solely on that.
"How do you feel, babe?" Maeve asks while putting her wavy hair into a messy bun.
You're cleaning up your make-up with her with Heidi in the room, "I'm super bummed!" You lie.
"I'm here to have fun so... I'll continue to do that," Heidi eggs on the conversation.
Maeve nods in agreement, "Right!"
Going to the bedroom, you see the next struggle and that is choosing your bed. A few of them have chosen partners to share the bed with. You don't want to choose yet so you nudge Maeve's elbow, "Want to share a bed?"
She smiles at you, "I thought you'd never ask," she answers.
Everyone else is on the bed and you look around, catching someone staring at you from across your bed. It's Jamie.
"It's you," he points at you.
You raise an eyebrow at him and mouthed, "What?"
He turns his head to the side and shows his neck, "the kiss."
Instead of answering, you slump down the bed and giggle behind the duvet. You bet he can tell from the color of the lipstick mark.
However, from all the males you see, you can't guess yet which one of them kissed you. Alex can't be it, he's sharing the bed with Laura and looking comfortable there.
That leaves Jamie, Daniel, Cole, and Felix. It could be Jamie but...
"Goodnight, babe!" Maeve says as the lights are turned off for the night.
"Night, beautiful!" You greet back and you silently thank her for stopping you to think about boys when you should be thinking about the money.
Eyes on the prize.
-
The first day and you wake up feeling so disoriented. It's the timezone, the weather, and the blinding sun that greets you the moment you get out of the bedroom.
They provide swimwear in the closet for everyone to wear besides your own clothes. You pick a pair and put on your make-up after with Laura and Alex, not sure if either of them is trying to make you jealous.
It's the first day of the rules applied and you already need to remind yourself of the prize fund.
"Who do you like?" You curiously ask Maeve as you're in the pool together with Jamie.
"I like Felix," She answers without a beat.
It's an obvious answer. If this show has two main characters they would be Laura and Felix. The males go for Laura and the females for Felix. You haven't had time to speak to Felix in person then again, everyone in here is attractive. 
"I think he's just so hot and cute," Maeve adds.
Jamie splashes her with water, "you're blushing!"
Maeve giggles and splashes water back at him, "what about you? What is your type?"
You didn't expect she'll turn the table at you and that you're like a rabbit about to get hit by a car.
"Come on, you can say it. Brunette with a British accent, nice smile, nice hair," Jamie playfully says with a grin at you.
Maeve chuckles then comments, "I think you two look cute together!"
-
YOU: I think Jamie is cute, he's a goofball. We share a vibe and he always smells so good [laughs] I can't say anything yet but yeah, let's see.
-
There are five males and five females, everyone can pair up and be a couple but things don't work out that way. There are so many things to consider like chemistry and connection, etcetera. However, you believe everyone is just waiting for someone to break the rules to go further.
That seems to be plausible with Lana throwing a party tonight.
"We're matching!" Jamie says.
You chuckle seeing that the only matching thing you have with him is the color of the pants you're wearing.
"You look beautiful," he compliments.
You tease him by jutting your ass at him and looking over your shoulder while batting your eyes at him, "Thank you!"
Doesn't want to be tempted, he turns your body around and puts his arm around you to lounging outside. You bet that he will use the opportunity to tell you about his intention.
You haven't been in relationships for so long that you forget how nerve-wracking it is.
"Cheers!"
"Cheers!" You clink your glass with him before taking a sip.
The sky is so pretty and clear tonight that you can see the stars like pinpricks on the night sky. The breeze is warm and salty, it's not good for your hair, you spent almost an hour straightening your hair and it's ruined in ten minutes.
"So do you have anyone you like?" Jamie asks.
You put your glass away and shake your head, "Nah, not yet."
He stares deeply into your eyes, "well, I like you," he suddenly admits.
"Like it isn't obvious," you jokingly say.
He laughs and licks his lips which makes you glance at his lips, it's round and full, glistening wet. You look away before it gets too creepy.
"You're gorgeous and easygoing and so fun to be around," he starts by complimenting you.
You don't know how he can have that conclusion when you only know each other for one day, you go along with him and nod, "Yeah, I agree."
He shifts on the seat and leans in close, putting his arm on the back of your head, "You're the first that caught my eyes when I came."
It's hard to know if Jamie said that in all honesty or to merely impress you. You saw how Alex jumped from one girl to another in a span of a few hours so you can't just trust his words.
Remember that they're all here for a reason, they're horny and emotionally unavailable. Sadly, that's what your types are for the last few months.
"I was hoping you'd compliment me more," you joke.
He throws his head back as he cracks a laugh, "I think it's your time to compliment me back."
You fold your legs on the sofa and put a cushion on your lap to play with the lint to keep your brain stimulated, to prevent you from zoning out midway.
You look at him as he looks back at you with hopeful eyes, "I think you're absolutely fit, you have a nice smile and are tall enough—"
"Tall enough?" He asks, a little offended.
You chuckle at his reaction, "In the best way. I hate when a guy is too tall," you explain.
"Okay, continue..." he allows.
"And you always smell so good," you lean in to take a whiff of his perfume.
"Good, yeah?"
"Tell me the perfume you're wearing," you playfully ask.
He shakes his head, "Not when there's the chance to make you take a whiff of it from me."
Jamie places his hand on your knee and the gust of wind makes his hair tousled and makes him look double attractive. His light brown eyes pierce right through you with the gaze he locked you in.
"What is there not to like about you?" You conclude.
He props a hand to support his head as he looks down at you, "what do you think about us?"
To be honest, it's too early to say something about this relationship. Not only that you barely know him, you don't have the intention to have a relationship at all.
"There's something there but I don't know, not sure about it yet," you honestly answer.
The hand on your knee moves up to your thigh now. Damn! Jamie is smooth.
"Maybe once I get to know you better, I'd know," you hurriedly add before he gets the wrong idea.
The next thing you know, you get yourself in a pickle as you find him leaning closer to you and his hand that was on your thigh, now resting on your waist.
"Maybe if we kissed, we'd know each other better," his eyes are centered on your lips.
"You want to kiss?" You lower your voice, afraid that there are other people around you.
Jamie leans in closer until his nose meets yours, "So bad," he answers.
Is it why he smells so good? That his perfume isn't just perfume, but it's also pheromones? You hold his chin, unable to choose whether to turn him away or bring him close, finding it hard to resist him.
-
YOU: Jamie looking so good tonight. He's literally too hot to handle [dramatically rolls eyes]
-
Jamie leans in closer and an inch away from your lips when you put your hand on his lips, stopping him from kissing you.
"Stop!" You mewl at him.
Jamie looks a little taken aback, thinking that he can seal the deal tonight.
"I want to kiss you," you tell him with your thumb brushes over his lips.
"But..." You cup his jaw and slowly speak to him so your explanation is not lost in the middle, "I don't want us to be the first to rule break."
If you were out there in the wild, you'd be all over each other by now. However, you think about the money, and spending money this early in the show isn't worth it, well, for you. Other than that, being the first to break the rules will only get you so much shit from everyone.
-
YOU: If we were outside, I would have ripped his clothes already by now [laughs] [facepalm] Lana, you should be proud of me.
-
Jamie sucks air through his teeth and laughs this off, maybe he feels a little rejected, you bruise his ego. Men are fragile like that.
"It's hard for me too," you sincerely tell him and throw your arms around him, consoling him with a hug.
"I'll just give you another kiss on the neck, okay?" you proceed to do it, placing a soft kiss on his neck right below his ear.
You hear him lowly groan with eyes closed, "That's not... uh, make it better."
He puts a hand around you, keeping you close next to him, "what about sharing a bed?"
You laugh at how relentless he is. Not only it means putting you at a bigger risk to break the rules but also, he's being haste about this.
"I'd like that," you answer, earning a grin from him.
"But not tonight," you hurriedly add.
His hand slides down your head to play with the end of your hair, twirling it around his fingers. 
"Why not?"
The player recognizes the player and Jamie is giving you the eyes right now. You look away and snug to his side, "I hump in my sleep and I think you'd like that too much."
He cracks a laugh with his hand drawing you closer to him, "More reason to share a bed!"
-
YOU: It's too early to share a bed with anyone. I still want to get to know the other and... [shrugs] keep my options open.
-
The party is far from over but you feel tired from socializing, and worse is, you can't escape them since you're sharing a house with them for the rest of the month.
You decide to excuse yourself, going to the make-up room and powdering your nose, then staying there to sip your drinks in silence.
There are nine other people to get footage from so you don't have to worry about making it interesting for people to watch.
"Hey, I've been looking for you!"
You turn on your seat to see Maeve entering the room, "what's up, babe?"
She drags the chair next to you, then sits on it. She checks her hair in the mirror and brushes the end with her fingers.
"I'm thinking of talking to Felix," she finally answers.
You sip your drink before talking, "And why are you here?"
Maeve laughs at your playful response, she leans back on her seat and sighs, "I don't know I'm so nervous to talk to him," she says.
That should be your question but you know that Maeve doesn't seek an answer from you, she needs some encouragements.
"You're gorgeous and fun, I think he'll like you," you tell her with a gentle squeeze on her shoulder.
She warmly smiles at you and checks herself again in the mirror.
"But if you intend to break the rules, I suggest you apply matte lipstick," you poke fun at her.
"I should do that," she searches for her make-up bag from the cluttering mess on the long vanity table.
After sending Maeve out of the door with another encouragement in a form of a cheeky slap to her butt, you bring your drink with you to the bedroom, feeling so ready to end the day already.
The first thing you see are two bodies going at it on the bed in the corner. You don't know why but you stay there standing in the doorway of the bedroom, watching them kissing on the bed.
After a minute of observation, you're positive it's Heidi and Daniel.
You hear someone coming from behind you, you hurriedly turn around to find Jamie there.
"Get me more drinks?" You immediately ask him, trying to sound natural.
"Sure, yeah, been looking for you," he says, more than eager to take you back to the party.
It's the only right thing to do. He doesn't care about the rules and if he knew that someone has broken the rules, he will be more relentless than he already is.
-
Thankfully, Lana doesn't announce any rulebreaking behaviors for today, the party ends on a good note and everyone has their happy ending, at least for today.
But for you, you're just happy to finally get on the bed.
As Maeve climbs onto the bed after you, you can't wait but ask her about how the talk went. 
"So, how's the talk?"
From the lack of her usual radiance on her face, you can tell that it didn't go well. You regret asking about it.
Maeve scoots closer to you on the bed and leans in, keeping her head turns away from Felix's bed.
"I talked to him and he was nice, said he finds me cute and funny," she keeps her voice low.
"Well, that's great!" You comment, a little louder than you intend to.
Maeve puts on a thin smile, "yeah so I asked him if he has eyes for someone," she says.
"Yeah and?"
"He said he likes someone," she answers.
You playfully bump her shoulder, "and it's you."
"Else," she finishes her words, "he likes someone else."
She rests her head on your shoulder and you put your arm around her, comforting her with gentle squeezes on her shoulder.
"Does this mean you're going to stop trying or...?"
"Not sure," she shortly replies.
"He said you're beautiful and funny, you should focus on that and work your way from there," you comfort her.
Men are not only stupid, they're all short-sighted, and that's why they like everything big. Maybe at first glance, Felix didn't see Maeve clearly and that's why you encourage her to try once again so he can take another good look at her because who knows?
-
The morning alarm is ringing.
They set a time to let everyone know when to start their day even though a few of us have woken up earlier. The lights are on and greeting each other, barefaced with eyes still sleepy.
Jamie jumps onto your bed and gets between you and Maeve on the bed.
"Good morning, girls!" His voice is muffled by the pillow underneath.
Maeve gently pats his back, "Cuddles only!" She reminds him.
He lifts his head and looks at you, "Not going to lie but I was about to kiss her until you said that," he tells Maeve.
Jamie looks so fine with a bare face and his bedhead looks extra fluffy when it's tousled.
-
YOU: Good morning! It's a good day, clear sky, nice weather with no chance of sex. [Snorts]
-
When everyone is called to the cabana, you know that it's judgment time.
You feel calm knowing that you successfully refrained from breaking rules but you know that everyone is not going to be pleased that a few people spent a few thousand dollars last night. Including you.
So far, you only knew about Heidi and Daniel but there's a big chance that other people break the rules too. It's a big place, you can't keep track of everyone.
This secret you've been keeping is getting too hard to bear yourself. The only person you can share it with is Maeve and you're positive that she didn't break any rules, not that you know of.
"I walked in on Heidi and Daniel kissing," you whisper to Maeve.
"My Gosh!" She lowly gasps.
The sound of Lana's cone-shaped head chiming and your heart leaps. You're not ready to lose money, not when you have your credit card bills spilling out of your mailbox as you speak.
"I regret to inform that there are several rule breaks."
Several? So that means there's more than one rule break? You're doomed, everyone is doomed.
"Everyone better be telling the truth right now!" Cole says as the resident's sex cop.
Everyone is looking at each other and a few are looking very suspicious right now. You bet that Laura and Daniel broke the rules from the way they avoid everyone's eyes.
Heidi raises her hand like she's in a classroom, "So..."
And everyone groans, knowing that they are about to hear a piece of bad news.
"Daniel and I, we kissed in the bedroom," she admits.
It's good that Heidi decides to come clean but it's a bit upsetting that Daniel just sits there like he didn't take part in it.
"But that was it. Just one kiss!" She assures everyone.
Welp, that's $3000 down the drain. However, Lana continues to press everyone to confess.
"Let's just get it over with, guys!" Cole adds with gritted teeth.
Can't hold it in yourself for long, you call them out by the names, "Laura? Alex? Have anything to say?" You ask with a piercing gaze.
"We uh... we kissed," Alex may have a buff body and the tallest of the bunch but he's bad at being honest like all men are.
"But it's because we're sure we have a connection. That's why we kissed," Laura is, of course, backing her man and ready to claw people with her super-long acrylic nails.
"I don't care what all of you are saying. We—"
"You kissed for how many times?" Cole cuts her off with the most important question of all.
There's a moment of silence and that means it's bad.
"Twice. On the bed and the beach," Laura answers with no apologetic expression whatsoever.
"That's so selfish!" Maeve exclaims next to you and lets out a big sigh after.
The worst is Lana is still here and asking if anyone wants to own up to their shit. You don't even want to count the most you've lost, it's a lot.
"You've got to be kidding!" Jamie groans from the end of the sofa.
Not only that the truth costs everyone money but serves the juiciest drama needed for TV broadcasts.
"Daniel kissed me," Aly finally confesses.
Everyone's eyes dart at Daniel, he kissed two girls yesterday and put them in a fight after this. Heidi looks furious sitting next to him.
"I'm pretty sure he kissed me first then he kissed Heidi," she adds, her eyes throwing daggers at Daniel.
"This is a mess!" You quietly comment and plant your face in your hands.
"These rule breaks have cost the group a total of $12.000," Lana announces.
You groan into your hand thinking that much money can cover a couple of months of your rent and here these fools spending them to satisfy their wild desire.
-
YOU: From now on, I'll be thinking of a Chanel handbag every time I get the urge to kiss someone because that's how much it costs.
-
"There are a total of four rule breaks in the last 24 hours and the fine on any further rule break will be doubled as of this moment," Lana announces another shocking news.
-
YOU: Great! A kiss equals two Chanel handbags now. [Hand against forehead]
-
It was one hell of a way to start the day.
Everyone's mood turns sour after that and Cole, being the sex cop he is, doesn't stop preaching to everyone to not break any rules.
What you fear the most with rules has been broken more than once now, it's allowed everyone else to take their turn and that includes Jamie.
It's only about time that he'll start demanding a kiss from you. Don't get fooled, men are just as insecure as women but they mask it well with their huge egos.
You try to avoid him and hang out with Maeve instead, chilling by the pool.
"I heard Irish people are a great drinking buddy," you want to distract yourself from the reality show you're in.
"I wouldn't call myself a 'buddy' but yeah, we're good drinkers," Maeve answers with her playful laughs.
You dip your fingers in the pool water and mindlessly splash it around.
"Come to Ireland and I'll show you a good time," she says.
You snort thinking that with the debt you have, you can't afford to travel out of the country right now but you can't pass on the invitation.
"Okay, I'll just go there with my winning prize," you jokingly say.
"Oh, yeah, totally," she responds with giggles but her eyes are nowhere in your direction.
Following her line of vision, she is watching Felix working out with Alex and Cole at the beach. You take it that she hesitates to make a move on him after knowing that he likes someone else.
"You're going to talk to him again right?"
Considering that the outside world is off-limits, leaving all of you with no choice but to interact with each other. This also means that Maeve will have to get a move on him or try not to be awkward with Felix walking around the house for the next three weeks.
"Who do you think it is?"
"The one he likes?" You guess.
She nods, glints of curiosity filled her eyes, "yeah."
"Certainly not you," you joke and break into laughter.
"Ouch!" She splashes water at you.
-
YOU: Maeve thinks a lot when she has nothing to worry about. She should just do it.
-
The house is huge even for ten people living in it but you can't keep avoiding Jamie.
After dressing up to hang out in the firepit, you sit next to Jamie at ease with the presence of other people there. But that doesn't stop him from touching you, putting his hand around you to play with your hair and whatnot.
"We should have kissed yesterday," he suddenly says.
You lowly chuckle, "When it was cheaper?"
The wind keeps blowing your way, sending your hair flying around and making it messy. Jamie attentively puts the stray hair away and tucks them behind your ears.
"Do you still want to break the rules?" You ask out of curiosity.
"If you want to," he answers.
He fixes the collar of his shirt and looks at you, "what about you?"
You crinkle your nose at him, conflicted. On one side, you want to kiss him and see if there's a spark between you and him but on the other side, it costs two Chanel handbags.
You rest your head on his shoulder, "I just don't think we should be selfish by spending money recklessly," you honestly answer.
"Yeah..." he agrees but the sigh he lets out at the end tells you otherwise.
-
YOU: Jamie sounds a little disappointed that I don't want to break the rules. I mean, don't hate the player, hate the game!
-
The make-up room is crowded with the girls cleansing their faces and doing their bedtime routine. You decide to take the last turn, lounging on Jamie's bed to make up for not sleeping with him tonight.
"Are you guys going to sleep together tonight?" Aly asks from the bed across the room.
Jamie turns his head with an eyebrow raised at you, asking you the same question.
"Yes, we are," you finally answer.
Jamie can't hide his triumphant smile and it looks adorable on him, you can't help but smile along.
-
YOU: I don't want to feel pressured to do it but I owe it to Jamie to at least try and see if this relationship is going somewhere.
-
It's understandable for them to be nosy, it's what the viewers need, a little drama, a little action but what they need are the juicy details.
Before anyone else gets nosy, you start getting ready for bed. Wipes clean your make-up and go to the bathroom to wash up, someone else is showering inside the stall.
It's a normal occurrence. Honestly, everyone else is just so calm about seeing each other's body at this point.
However, the glass wall is blurry so you don't have to worry about seeing someone's naked body inside. You head to the sink and mind your own business.
As you're brushing your teeth, the shower door opens and a hand reaches out for a towel hanging by the handle. In the mirror, you see Felix steps out of the shower and your eyes eventually meet through the reflection and you reflexively smile with a toothbrush tugged between your teeth.
"Hey," he greets.
It surprises you that the deep voice belongs to him, "Hi," you greet back.
He walks toward you and you scoot to the side knowing that he needs to use the sink.
"You don't mind, right?" He asks, taking his toothbrush out of his toiletry bag.
You shake your head, "not at all."
It's hard to not see his body when he stands close next to you. Everyone in here has a nice body but on the first impression, you see him as this thin and dainty guy.
Now, you've seen him up close, he has one of the best bodies in the house, his muscles are perfectly toned and it shows that he diligently worked on his body.
"How's your day?" He casually asks with the towel hanging low around his hips.
"Alright, I guess," you answer.
"You?" You ask back while washing your toothbrush under the running water.
He looks at you and smiles, "just got better, actually," he answers.
Felix is definitely flirting and you immediately fill your mouth with water before stupid things come out of it. You decide to quickly wrap it up before someone else enters the space even though you're doing nothing.
-
YOU: Felix and I are just talking. There's— [inhales] he's low-key flirting with me and I freaked out, there I said it.
-
Maeve is already on the bed when you enter the bedroom and so is Jamie with a space prepared on the bed for you.
It would be rude to say nothing to Maeve that you'll not be sleeping with her, so you come to her first.
"I'm sleeping with Jamie," you tell her.
She slyly grins at you, "Should I give you the sex talk?"
"No, thank you, mom!" You grab your pillow and walk to Jamie's bed still laughing.
Jamie's smile grows wider the closer you get to his bed, he opens his arms to welcome you.
"Come here, sweet thing!" He playfully says.
You hit him with your pillow before coming into his hug. As you settle on his bed, Felix walks past your bed and flashes you a smile, a little different from the one he gave you earlier.
You forget that he sleeps on the bed next to Jamie's and you don't know how it suddenly feels awkward to you.
"Be good, you two!" Cole warns with a piercing glare.
"Not going to break any rules. You can have my words," you assure him despite Jamie nuzzling his nose onto your shoulder as you speak.
-
YOU: At least, that's what I hope. Being in bed with Jamie and try not to break rules will certainly not going to be easy. Ugh!
-
Once the lights are out, Jamie spoons you from behind with his arms wrapped around you. Not going to lie but it feels nice to be with someone.
"You smell so good," he whispers into your ear.
You don't respond, afraid that it will only encourage him to do more.
"You're so soft," he says again with his hand splayed on your bare stomach.
"Night, Jamie," you put an end to the talk.
That doesn't stop his hand from cuddling you and nuzzling his nose in your neck.
"No goodnight kiss?" He asks.
You take his hand and kiss it as a substitute, earning a low laugh from him.
Jamie kisses you on the neck in return, "Night!"
-
YOU: It's getting a little hot in here [fanning your neck]
-
The first thing Cole does when he wakes up is ask everyone an important question.
"Did anyone break any rules last night?"
You shake your head because as much as it's been hard to refrain from touching Jamie, you didn't do anything but cuddle under the cover.
"I can promise you we've been good in here!" Jamie confidently states and puts his arm around you.
Aly as Maeve's new bedmate, points at Laura and Alex's bed, "I definitely heard noises coming from their bed," she snatches on them.
Alex may have a good poker face but you can't say the same with Laura, she's looking guilty but the kind that tells she's not sorry for doing it.
"You may as well spill the truth now," Daniel eggs in.
Laura nonchalantly shrugs as if she's not been acting selfishly when it's only about time that Lana announces how much money we've lost because of them.
-
YOU: I'm proud that Jamie and I managed to not break any rules last night. I hope that proves that we do have a real connection.
-
It's too late for you to walk out as Felix sees you coming into the bathroom.
You walk to the sink to grab your toiletry bag you forgot to take with you, "I can't believe our meet cute is in the bathroom," you say.
He laughs hearing your words while struggling to put sunblock on his back.
"Need help?"
He considers it for a moment then nods, "Yes!"
You take the tube of sunblock from him, pressing a big dollop of the cream on your hand and slowly lathering it on his honey skin. His skin is smooth and warm with muscles that make his back the perfect spot to lean on.
"So, you and Jamie, huh?" he suddenly asks, looking at you through the reflection in the mirror.
The question snaps you out of your daze. You're thankful that he can't see your face as you're busy making sure the sunblock is covering his back evenly.
"Yes," you shortly reply.
He hums while subtly nodding his head, "And what do you think?"
You play dumb but it's also because your hands wander to his lats and they're distracting, "of what?"
Felix leans forward with hands resting against the sink, "is it serious?"
You silently gulp air because his question only means that he has an interest in your relationship which also means that he has...
"We're still figuring each other out," you settle with a diplomatic answer for him.
You glide your hands back up to lather the sunblock down his shoulder blades.
"I see," he responds with a smile.
And not just a smile, a smile that tells he got the answer he wants.
You slide your hands down his arms and playfully squeeze his biceps, "there! Done!"
He takes the sunblock back from you and checks himself in the mirror, "thank you."
Felix raises his hands for a high-five with you, "Let's have a great day!"
You smile at him and return the high-five, "Let's do it!"
-
YOU: Maeve likes Felix and I'm obviously team hoes before bros. Always!
-
"Blue looks good on you!"
It's another day of Jamie's endeavors to kiss you, starting the conversation by complimenting your bikini. He joined you sunbathing by the pool in the afternoon, sharing a sun lounger.
"Thank you!" You reply with a smile with your eyes squinting under the bright sun.
His hand is squeezing your arm, "you got some muscles here," he says.
"I played volleyball in high school," you share.
Propping a hand under his head, he looks down at you, "I want to see you play volleyball."
You chuckle, "That was years ago. I forgot how to play."
"Must be looking sexy serving ball in tight shorts," he lowers his head into your neck.
You burst out laughing and slip your hand in his soft locks, "that sounds so wrong."
Not only that you're out in the open, it's rather dangerous with how close he is and his lips looking inviting as he plants it on your shoulder.
It's only right that you distract him by giving him a little taste but not too much, enough to make him crave more.
"Do it for me?" You ask with a bottle of sun spray in your head.
"I'd love to," he eagerly says.
Jamie sprays on parts of the body he wants to touch, all over your back as you lay on your stomach and down to your asscheek, excessively kneading on them.
You laugh at how he can't stop himself that you eventually have to turn over so he can continue, spraying your shoulders.
You take off the straps around your neck so he can spray your chest and sneaks his hand on the valley between your breasts.
"Yeah, get in there!" You playfully encourage him.
Jamie grins like a child who got caught taking a cookie out of the cookie jar. He then continues to spray on your abdomen and evenly rub them down your thighs next while glancing into your eyes once in a while.
To say that you don't enjoy teasing him would be a lie.
-
YOU: Jamie becomes more relentless by the day but am I wrong to not want to rule break? Isn't that the purpose of this retreat?
-
As the day turns to night, it's only about time until everyone got called to the cabana.
You feel sick listening to the sound of Lana's cone-shaped body chiming, especially with Laura and Alex acting so suspiciously.
Lana is a computer but she sounds not pleased as she greets everyone. Cut to the announcement, she informs that Laura and Alex did break the rules last night.
You glance at Cole who got speechless that he's just looking at Alex in disbelief.
"These rule breaks cost the group $18.000."
-
YOU: For three kisses? Really? Lana, please, be reasonable with the prices.
-
"That's not the only rule break they committed," Lana spills more truth.
This is what you fear the most, getting riled by the whole group for breaking the rules. Everyone looks at both Laura and Alex waiting for them to confess.
"I touched his willy under the cover," Laura confesses.
Everyone groans in unison.
You don't know how Laura is okay being so selfish and can keep a straight face, but that's probably why her make-up is super thick.
"This rule break costs the group a further $4.000."
"Why would you do that?" Maeve asks and she rarely gets this mad.
"It's not a big deal!" Laura nonchalantly responds.
"Yeah but not for $4.000!" Heidi snaps at her, as furious as everyone.
"Now the prize fund stands at $166.000."
-
YOU: I can use that money as a deposit for a house and here we are, spending it on kisses and a hand down a guy's trouser.
-
The night gets darker not only on the outside but inside the house as well.
Lana sends Laura and Alex to the suite to test if they're building a true connection but everyone is skeptical that they'll pass the test.
You sit on the bed with Jamie resting his head on your lap, brushing his hair to relax you now that you've lost a chunk of money.
"Alex is like the horniest people and Laura is the biggest teaser, it's a recipe for a disaster," Aly comments, lying on her stomach on the bed opposite yours.
"They will rule break once or twice at least," Jamie adds his opinion.
The night ends early but you see that Maeve and Felix haven't returned yet to their respective beds. You hope that things are going well with them.
You nuzzle your head into Jamie's chest and murmur, "We haven't broken any rules," you tell him.
"Yet," Jamie continues your words clasping your hand with his.
You look at him and smile as he looks back at you, "We've been good and I'm proud."
He foolishly smiles and opens his arms to invite you for a hug. You jump right into his embrace and those muscles on his body feel pillowy under you.
Jamie pulls the duvet to cover both of your bodies even though the lights aren't out yet. You squeal as he starts to glide his hands down your sides.
-
YOU: I appreciate Jamie for being so patient because I know, it was hard for me to not throw myself at him.
-
"We don't need another rule break tonight!"
Cole pulls the duvet down to reveal that the two of you are just tickling each other under the cover.
At the same time, Felix makes his way to his bed, seeing you straddling Jamie on the bed which sends you to get off of him immediately.
It's unclear why you do that but your eyes go straight to Maeve's bed, it's empty even when the lights are already out.
You nestle your head in Jamie's neck as he lightly touches up and down your arm and kisses your hand once in a while.
You plant a soft kiss on his neck and whisper, "Night."
He kisses you back on the head, "Goodnight!"
-
YOU: I start to believe that maybe Jamie and I do have a genuine connection [smiles]
-
Everyone is looking restless from the moment they woke up and looks in shambles once they gathered in the cabana, ready for that time of the day.
After a while, Laura and Alex are returning from the suite. You recognize the glow on Laura's face right away but you could be wrong.
God! You hope you're wrong and they didn't do anything selfish last night.
You're spacing out as Lana comes with her anxiety-inducing ping sounds and all you can think about is how much money Laura and Alex spent last night.
"They're looking suspicious," Aly whispers at you.
Indeed, they are, and looking very guilty as well. Everyone waits in anticipation as Lana takes her time to announce whether they pass the test or blow all the money in one night.
"I must tell the group that Laura and Alex did..."
You hold your breath for the worst outcome.
"Not..."
It's getting harder to breathe now.
"Break any rules!"
Everyone shoots up from their seats and congratulates the couple in turns. You got so far in life that you get to celebrate people for not having sex.
-
YOU: So they can keep it in their pants! I'm proud!
-
Lana has another announcement after everyone settled in from the celebration.
"To motivate everyone to grow genuine feelings of connection as opposed to lust, I've prepared gifts for all of you."
You take the box in front of you and open it to reveal a watch inside.
"When I observe two people forming genuine connections, they will be given a green light like this."
Everyone's watch chimes and turns green at the same time.
"While the lights are green, the rules do not apply for a limited amount of time."
Cole claps his hands together to get everyone's attention, "There's no more excuse for anyone to break any more rules!"
-
YOU: This [shows the watch] motivates me to build a connection with Jamie. Hope we get to be the first to get the green light.
-
After a very stressful morning that thankfully ends with a happy ending, you can have the room to breathe since the boys are out of the house to do a workshop at the beach.
The girls are hanging out in the bedroom and with the drama going on earlier, you forgot to ask Maeve why she went to bed late last night.
To get a little privacy, even though you can't get any with cameras placed in every crook and nook of the villa, you take her to the make-up room. You sit next to her while fixing your make-up in the mirror.
"Is everything okay?" You ask.
Maeve sits with both feet up on the chair and looks down at her nails, "not okay, honestly," she answers.
You stop looking at the mirror and turn your chair to face her, "why? What happened?"
Maeve hugs her folded legs and looks at you, a sad smile on her face.
"I just don't know what I'm doing here..."
You place your hand on her knee, "hey, don't say that!"
"I'm not making connections with anyone and I tried, but it's not working. I-I don't know why I'm here," she says with a heavy sigh at the end of the sentence.
It seems like things aren't going well between her and Felix, and Maeve is someone with low self-esteem, which makes her somewhat dejected that things didn't go well.
"You don't have to be a couple to make progress, you know," you comfort her and it's true, Cole is proof that he's fine not being in a pair and dedicates himself as an avid protector of the prize money instead.
"I'm not pretty. No one wants to be with me," she breaks into tears and buries her head in her hands.
You get up from the chair to hug her, "First of all, everyone here is pretty and it's not a beauty pageant, okay?" You comfort her while slightly bending down with your arms around her.
"It's not about look. It's about chemistry, attraction, and stuff," you awkwardly explain.
You have no talent in comforting someone but you try your best. After a moment, Maeve lifts her head and looks at you.
"No one is attracted to me," she says with her fingers carefully dabbing the corner of her eyes to avoid ruining her make-up.
You scoff and turn the chair to face her before sitting on it, "you are so beautiful, Maeve," you assure her with both hands holding hers.
Maeve puts down her feet and your clasped hands dropped onto her lap, "I know," she half-heartedly agrees.
"For you, I'll fly to Ireland and come see you, we'll get drunk and have so much fun," you cheer her up with nice thoughts while shaking her hands.
Maeve cracks a laugh and you can see that she starts to get hopeful again. She's a genuinely kind person which is not someone you expect to meet here, you think of her as a friend despite it happening because you both are in a reality show.
A crazy idea crosses your head, "you know what? We can be a couple and win the money," you tell her.
-
YOU: I'm bad at comforting people and the only thing I know how to comfort someone is through actions [slyly smiles]
-
She laughs at your wild suggestion that it takes her a while to reply to you, "I'd love that, yeah," she jokingly answers.
An even crazier idea crosses your head, "come here then," you tell her, pulling her close until your heads meet in the middle.
Maeve senses your intention but not doing anything to stop you, instead, she leans in first to kiss you.
You kiss her back as she softly brushes her lips on yours over and over again. She tastes so sweet and warm, she knows how to use her tongue and not overdo it, and overall, one hell of a good kisser.
You pull away first as the reality that someone might walk in on you dawns on you.
"Did we just break the rules?" Maeve asks while wiping her smeared lipstick.
"You'd better have a good poker face!" You warn her.
-
YOU: Goodness! Maeve is a good kisser and that kiss... I think that was the best $6.000 I ever spent. No regret at all.
-
The boys are back just in time for another party Lana is throwing tonight.
The theme is Saints and Sinners and there's a box of costumes for everyone to wear. You choose to be an angel with wings even though you've been behaving badly after breaking the rules earlier.
He sits you on his lap even though the sofa is spacy enough for another two persons but you feel safe since Alex and Laura are there, cuddling in the smaller sofa across from yours.
"So, what did you do in the workshop?" You ask Jamie.
He takes a deep breath and his chest heaving along with yours, "we learned how to be more open with our feelings."
You nod along and leer over at him, "And how did it go?"
Jamie rests his chin on your shoulder with a hand resting on your stomach, "Well, I'm never good at it but I think I did alright."
He doesn't sound so convincing but you appreciate the effort.
"You look beautiful, babe!" He compliments you along with a gentle squeeze on your thigh.
You're immune to sweet nothings like this but a compliment is a compliment. You smile and mutter, "Thank you!"
You slip your hand into the opening of his shirt, "I like your shirt," you compliment back with a seductive smile.
He sees your hand slide in further into his shirt, "should have let another button open."
Jamie keeps checking his watch hoping that the light turns green soon.
You doubt that a few compliments can do it and silently laugh at his fruitless effort. 
-
YOU: I'll always be physically attracted to Jamie but I don't know. I can't tell if I doubt myself or him, or us, entirely [clicks tongue]
-
The time for doom is here.
You exchange nervous glances with Maeve knowing what we've done would damage the numbers on the prize fund. You doubt that it's what Laura felt when she broke the rules because what you're feeling is a sense of guilt but that's solely because you behaved selfishly, not for the kiss.
"Hours after receiving the gifts of my watches, a couple of you decide to break the rules by kissing," Lana announces.
Everyone's eyes land on Alex and Laura since they're the regular rulebreakers. Just know that they'll be surprised once they found out who did it.
"You know the routine. Just spill it!" Cole sounded so done at this point.
You hate to break his trust but you don't feel bad for breaking the rules, not when you have a good intention. Your heart is pounding for how much shit you'll get either from admitting it or don't, you choose the former.
"It was me," you blurt out with a hand raised.
Jamie snaps his head at you, eyes wide filled with confusion because he knows for damn sure you didn't kiss him or vice versa.
"I'm not going to name names who I did it with and why," you quickly add and it's the only right thing to do, you don't want to force Maeve to speak out unless she wanted to.
"I'm sorry," you apologize.
Jamie looks even more confused but his eyes are scanning the guys one by one even though it isn't any of them you kissed.
"I'm sorry, Cole," you apologize to him personally since he's the one who gets sensitive the most about the money.
Maeve raises her hand and decides to admit it as well, "she did it with me."
They let out a collective gasp, laughter, and sneaky eyes going on after. Jamie squeezes your shoulder but not saying anything to you.
"Another $6.000 has gone from the prize fund, leaving the group with $160.000," Lana furtherly informs.
Funny that you didn't about the money at all when you kiss Maeve. Probably because you know that you intend to rebuild Maeve's confidence, so she's not giving up on herself and continues her journey here.
However, when it comes to Jamie, you're still not sure if you want to spend $6.000 on a kiss with him.
-
The rule break doesn't seem to leave that much impression on everyone.
Maybe because they give you a pass because it's your first time breaking the rule and the night ends in peace or that's what you thought.
You're chatting with Aly in the firepit to avoid the crowded make-up room when suddenly Felix comes behind you. You didn't notice until Aly sends you a signal with her eyes.
"Can I talk to you?" He asks.
Aly gets the hint and decides to leave, "I'll excuse myself then."
You've spent a couple of times alone with him even though they only last for a few minutes, but this time is different, no one is around except for the filming crew lurking in the bushes or somewhere you're not aware of.
The sofa could fit a couple of dozen people but Felix decides to sit next to you.
"Hi," he sweetly greets.
"Hi, how are you?" You ask with a smile.
His legs are spreading wide and he has gaping holes in his jeans, exposing bits of his thighs that you found are surprisingly muscular.
"I'm good," he answers, doing the classic move of putting his arm on the headrest of the sofa, "how about you?"
Your body somehow responds by putting your leg over the other and leaning towards him, "Never been better."
Felix gets quiet but his eyes are deeply looking into your eyes as if he found something fascinating in them. A while later, he clears his throat as he slightly slouched on the sofa, legs spreading wider, sending the holes in his jeans to stretch and expose more of his skin.
"During the workshop, we were taught to open up about our feelings and I–" He pauses to scratch his small nose and continues with an uneasy glance at you, "I know what I want and I want to do it. I know I'll regret it if I don't."
"Okay," you respond while nodding along and at times, getting distracted by the holes in his jeans.
"I know you're with Jamie and I don't mean to break things between the two of you but I feel like... I need you to know that I like you."
Felix talks without a beat and with the intense stare he's giving you, you gulp air feeling nervous but in an exciting kind of way.
"I like you," he says again.
Your heart starts to race because you can feel how much he meant all of his words.
-
YOU: Oh my God! The hottest man in this retreat likes me?!
-
"You don't have to do anything about it," he casually says as if he didn't just put you in a predicament since you're with Jamie.
Felix retracts his hand and accidentally or not, brushes his hand on your shoulder. He gives you the faintest of physical contact but enough to send a shiver down your spine.
Still speechless by his sudden confession, but you know you should have said something to him to avoid him getting the wrong idea.
"Thank you for letting me know," you begin.
"You're very welcome!" He excitedly responds with a wide grin.
"But let me know if you want to do anything about it," he adds with a playful grin.
Something about him makes you warm inside, you can feel your cheeks heating, flustered with his eyes never straying away from yours even for a second.
The night is late and the fireplace is laying low, swaying with the gentle breeze coming from the sea, Felix's lips suddenly look so inviting, enticing you like a forbidden apple.
This is dangerous. 
"Let's head inside," he says, thankfully being the one putting a brake on the imminent danger.
-
YOU: This is honestly what I seek with Jamie, that excitement, that sparks and it's a problem that I got it from someone else without any sort of physical contact whatsoever.
-
"So, Maeve, is she a good kisser?" Jamie asks as he sits with you on the bed.
Maeve sips water from her tumbler before answering, "The best!"
She takes another sip before talking again, "You're in for a treat, Jamie."
He glances at you with an impressed smile, "Too bad that I can't confirm that," he says.
That's his way to dig at you for what you did. You understand that he feels betrayed by what you did, you refuse to kiss him but easily kissed someone behind his back.
You put your hand across his chest and look at him, "Are you mad?"
"Nah," he coyly answers.
You bring your mouth close to his ear, "are you jealous?"
Jamie chuckles as your breath tickles his ear, "A bit, yeah."
You kiss his cheek and deliver your apology with a heartfelt whisper, "I'm sorry, baby."
-
YOU: I, of course, feel bad for not giving Jamie the heads up about the kiss I did with Maeve. He looks rather upset but I know I deserve it.
-
It's probably luck that follows you throughout the times you spent in the retreat.
Everyone forgot about your rulebreaking as Daniel decides to get a new bed partner. He used to sleep with Heidi but tonight, he decides to sleep with Aly.
You nudge Jamie who's sleeping with his head nuzzles in your neck to witness the drama happening in the room.
His mouth opens in surprise while you look at Heidi who's slumped down on the bed.
"You okay?" You mouth at her.
"No," she mouths back.
You turn to look at Jamie, "Oh my God!" You lowly gasp.
"I feel bad for Heidi," Jamie whispers.
"Me too," you say back behind the duvet at Jamie.
-
YOU: Let's say we never know what's going to happen next [shrugs]
-
The mood the next morning has been set to gloomy with the drama that happened last night.
The good news is there's no sign of anyone breaking any rules and the bad news is that Jamie seems to not moving on from your kiss with Maeve yet.
Jamie is usually chipper whenever he's with you, except for today, he seems distant even though you're working out together by the beach.
"Tighten your glutes," he instructed.
You play dumb since that's the most successful way to win a guy's heart, "tighten my what?"
Jamie chuckles and enthusiastically shows you the parts of your body you need to work on, the back of your thighs and legs. His hands don't skip the chance to rub over the curve of your ass.
"Can you feel it?" He asks as he guides you to do a proper squat by standing right behind you.
You intentionally nudge his crotch with your ass, "oh yeah, I can feel it," you answer with giggles.
By working out, you hope that it would help to release tension between you and Jamie, it worked but in the process, you're getting that tingling down there with his hands constantly touching you.
You collapse onto the yoga mat from doing a plank and groan, "Ugh... I'm so horny."
Jamie laughs as he helps you get up from the mat.
-
YOU: I realized now that maybe Jamie needs validation, he needs more than just words from me. Maybe I have to do something about it [raises an eyebrow]
-
Before you can set a plan, Lana calls everyone to the cabana.
Not sure if anyone breaks any rules but you feel sick in the stomach whenever you sit down and face her cone-shaped body.
Cole is getting ready to put his laser eyes on anyone who breaks the rules.
"No one break any rules last night," Lana announces.
Everyone seems to be letting out a sigh of relief and you feel guilty just from thinking about doing a rule break later for Jamie.
"With the couples seeming to form deeper bonds, it's time to establish how committed to each other you really are," Lana states.
Couples? You are positive you and Jamie are included in it.
"By sending some of you on dates..." Lana continues.
-
YOU: The question is... Who's going on a date? I would love to go on a date with Jamie.
-
Now everyone starts to hold their breath again with Lana dragging each piece of information just to torture all of you.
"With new arrivals," Lana finally finishes.
This is not a good time for Lana to intervene, not when you plan on taking things further with Jamie. Also, new arrivals mean that they're not adapted to the rules yet, they'll be uncontrollable, horny babies like... well, everyone here a week ago.
"The first arrival is... Mia," Lana announces.
The guys snickered in joy, excited even just from hearing the girl's name.
"I have given her a choice of dating one of the boys currently in couples."
Your mouth hangs open in surprise, you're wrong to underestimate Lana's power and that she owns this game, she's the mastermind.
"She has selected..."
-
YOU: I hate to think about it but I have an inkling that this Mia girl is going to choose Jamie [leans back on the sofa]
-
"... Jamie."
The timing is impeccable.
Things are going well between you and Jamie, then Lana, being the girl boss she is, decides to ruin all of that.
You look at Jamie and he looks slightly pleased that he got chosen.
You're spacing out the rest of the time Lana announces another arrival, a boy who chose Laura to be his date.
It's unclear whether you're jealous about him going on another date or you regret holding yourself back from him all these times.
Jamie rubs his hand up and down your arm, briefly kisses your cheek, then says, "You have nothing to worry about."
How come you trust his words when you've witnessed all these bed hoppings and jumping ships happened overnight?
-
YOU: What Jamie said only makes me even more worried. Lana said it's a test so this Mia girl must be sexy, and speaks three languages or something. You know, like a girl version of Alex.
-
Maeve is helping you style your hair for tonight.
"How do you feel about Jamie going on a date with someone?" She asks.
You shrug and sigh, sending the powder you're holding flying around your face.
"I just hope she's ugly," you jokingly answer.
"Hate to break the news but I think she's hot and a potential rulebreaker," Maeve decides to pour salt on your wound instead of soothing it.
"It's not that I don't care but I decide not to care," you explain.
You finish your make-up with a setting spray and check yourself again in the mirror, "but you know, deep down, I'm scared, shitless," you admit.
It's getting more nerve-wracking waiting for Jamie to come back from his date. Maeve keeps you occupied with happy thoughts, telling you fun things you can do in Ireland with her.
The other girls low-key comfort you by complimenting your looks. It's a nice gesture except that no one died and you're not in mourning, you just want this to get over with.
Laura is the first one to come back, guiding the new arrival by linking her arm with his.
She introduces Killian around, an Irish man who's just the perfect match for Maeve.
Killian is a great distraction, his accent is attractive and so is his smile. You keep nudging Maeve's elbow to send her hints.
Maeve replies by elbowing your side and you thought she was being playful, then turn your head around to see Jamie has came back from his date.
"Oh shit. She's hot!" Aly exclaims.
You bite your tongue and put your lips together, not wanting to lose your calm easily. There are only two possibilities, Jamie stays with you, or not.
As Jamie pulls you to the make-up room, you know it's time for him to decide.
"How was the date?" You ask with a smile.
"It was nice. We had champagne and fruits and cheeses," he gives you an answer that you don't expect.
You silently gulp air and keep on putting on a smile for him, "Sounds lovely!"
The moment passed in silence is deafening and you need to burst it. You clear your throat and hold the hand on his lap.
"So... are you here to tell me I was right for not worrying you?" You joke.
Jamie awkwardly laughs at your question and that you're right for worrying him. A part of you is in denial that you're not chosen but another part of you decides to shut him out right here, right now.
"I want to tell you that Mia and I... I think we have something going on between us and I want to get to know her more," he slowly explains.
This heart is fickle, you decided not to care but you feel a sting in your chest when he told you that.
"You're saying you chose her?" You ask for confirmation.
Jamie takes your other hand, afraid that you run away before he can explain.
"No, I'm staying with you and openly telling you that at the same time, I want to get to know Mia," he refuses your words when it's exactly what he wants.
Other girls would give him the chance but not with you, if Jamie chose her then he should stay with her. There's no use for you and him to stay together if he wants to get to know someone that isn't you.
"Jamie you can't do that. You either stay with me or be with her, you have to choose!" You insist on him settling on a decision.
-
YOU: Apparently, Jamie wants to have his cake and eat it too [shakes head]
-
You get it that Jamie is conflicted because he still likes you but the other girl offers him something that you don't give to him.
"I like you. I still want to be with you," Jamie persists.
His words are not aligned with his action. You shake your head and put his hands away, "it sounds like you're asking me to wait for you while you're getting it on with someone else."
That seems to put the nail in the coffin that he got speechless. The disappointment got to you that you and if you stayed longer, you're afraid you would say something you didn't mean to him.
"You've made your choice, Jamie," you tell him.
-
YOU: To say that I'm disappointed is an understatement. I'm livid, I'm... I was planning to take things further but yeah... [brushes hair to the back] Mia happens.
-
Can't believe that you'll be the one serving drama tonight.
You stall in the make-up room, not wanting to get to the bedroom yet. You're drying your hair after a shower and sitting there for a minute, just taking everything in and trying to let it go.
Taking a deep breath, you keep a straight face as you push the door into the bedroom and have no choice but to share a bed with Heidi since Maeve is sharing the bed with Killian.
"You alright, babe?" She quietly asks.
You hold your forehead and slump down on the bed, "it's shitty."
She gently squeezes your elbow, "yeah."
You lay down on the bed and avoid the eyes looking back and forth between you and Jamie. You may decide not to care but seeing him sleeping with another girl right in front of your eyes, hurts.
You cover your eyes with your hand and mumble, "I just want to get this day over with."
-
YOU: Jamie has decided so he has to live with that decision. Good luck, I guess.
-
If it weren't for her, Jamie would have stayed with you and you wouldn't be waking up to Heidi lowly snoring next to you.
Mia might have seduced him but it wouldn't happen if Jamie remained faithful so you decide to blame him, not her.
This is probably what Maeve felt that day when she cried, defeated, and dejected.
But Jamie has to try harder if he wants to see you cry.
 "How are you feeling, sexy?" Maeve asks as she waddles in the swimming pool.
You sit on the edge with your feet dipped in the sun-warm water, "I don't know, really," you shrug.
She holds onto your leg, clinging to it to stay afloat, "You're better than her, trust me, she's not that attractive if you looked at her long enough."
You know that she's not saying that out of spite, she said all that to make you feel better.
"Saying unkind things about her doesn't make me better, Maeve," you tell her with a glare.
"I'm sorry but it's true," she says with a subtle shrug.
-
YOU: Jamie and I [sighs] We hugged, we cuddled, we slept in one bed together. I don't want to care but the truth is... I care.
-
The day drags on and you're more than happy to get to your bed except that you're not ready to see Jamie and Mia cuddling on the bed you used to sleep on.
You're hanging out with Maeve in the make-up room while she's braiding your hair to pass the time.
"We can sleep together. I'll just tell Killian—"
"And risks Heidi stealing him from you?" You cut her off with a joke.
Maeve laughs as she tied the end of your hair with an elastic band and fixes the loose hair on the back of your head.
"Enough about me. How about you and Killian?"
Maeve plops down on the chair next to you and takes a hairbrush from the table, slowly combing the end of her hair.
"We chatted a lot but not sure if we have that connection," she answers.
"But don't worry, we're getting along just fine," she assures you in response to your concerned expression.
"Is it perhaps because you haven't moved on from Felix?"
Asking her that is like walking on eggshells and you're doing it carefully. Mostly because Felix confessed that he likes you that making it seems that way to you.
"Oh come on! I've moved past that," she answers while twirling her hair around her fingers.
You consider telling her about Felix's confession that night but it comes to no use, the retreat has come halfway to finish and you're not sure if Felix still likes you.
It's close to lights out and you step into the bedroom with Maeve.
Heidi is already taking half of the bed with her long legs that you have to scoot close to the edge to lie down.
"Goodnight, everyone!" Aly says to everyone in the room and getting sleepy mumbles in return.
-
YOU: When I think about it, I'm seeing Lana more than my therapist [uneasy smiles]
-
This is not how you want to start the day.
You don't want to hear what Jamie and Mia did or how they spent $20.000 last night. He probably has pent-up tension and finally got to release it with her.
"You got the watches, man!" Cole is coming at him.
You sit back and watch it from the end of the sofa on how Jamie is trying to explain himself.
"I know you won't believe me but Mia and I, we have a connection," he explains.
"Why not act right and get rewarded?" Cole is jabbing him with words.
"You won't understand," Jamie says with a defeated sigh.
-
YOU: Maybe that's why I doubted Jamie. I can see it now, the bright side [smirks]
-
Nothing says a fresh start than doing yoga with Heidi.
Apparently, she is a licensed instructor and you feel a whole lot better after stretching your body to the limit.
You share the shower with Maeve to cut the time and get ready to dress up.
As you're applying your lipstick, Lana chimes in and makes you jolt in your seat.
Maeve's mouth drops open and she stops curling her hair altogether.
"Hello, ladies!"
"Hi, Lana," you nervously answer and push your chair away from the table.
Then she calls your name and you almost choke on air.
"Y-yes?"
"I'm offering the chance to go on a date with Felix " Lana informs out of the blue.
"Me?" You ask in disbelief.
"Would you like to attend?" Lana asks.
You turn to look at Maeve to remind yourself to be a good friend and a good friend avoid hurting her friend's feelings.
"Shouldn't we make them wait for at least 48 hours for an answer, Lana?" You playfully respond.
Maeve kicks your feet under the table, "what are you doing? Say yes!"
"Then how about you?" You blabber, not expecting that she gives you the blessing to go on a date with her former crush.
"What about me?" She asks in pure confusion.
"Don't you like him?"
Maeve excessively sighs, "I told you I've moved on!"
She kicks your feet again, "Hurry! Say yes!"
You turn to look at Lana in her mixed purple-hued lights and hesitate to say yes. Not only it means you have to start it all over again, but also letting yourself open for another heartbreak.
"Would you like to attend?" Lana asks once again.
-
YOU: I'm not sure if I'm ready to try and restart [sighs]
-
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dwindlinghaze · 6 months
Text
lover in the foyer
(remus lupin x reader)
summary: remus lupin loves you, but his best friend 'likes' you too. so you both ended up fake dating.
contents: fluff, hurt/comfort, protective remus, r and remus are totally in love fr.
  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
it was a secret that you have a little crush on remus lupin. you kept that information to yourself 'cause you couldn't let the others know- it would be too embarrassing if they do. for years you've been hiding your feelings. burying it deep inside your heart.
well, that was until one day on the marauder's dormitory, a conversation was spoken.
"i've got something to tell," james started, sitting up right on his bed.
"what is it?" remus replied.
"promise you won't call me crazy?" he asked.
"we promise!" the other three said in unison.
"i'm starting to like a girl... and it's not lily," said the boy.
"what?" sirius asked, not believing what his mate just said. it was globally known that james potter loves lily evans. no one else. it has been six years since.
"yeah... it's y/n,"
a ringing silence filled the room.
you weren't super close with them four. although you are kind of friends with remus. you two talked occasionally when passing through the hallways or in the great hall.
during those small little encounters, remus might've caught some feelings. something different bloomed in his heart. hearing james saying this made his heart burn.
"i feel like she'd be a good distraction- i mean from lily. maybe that way i can make lily jealous and then she'll confess to me. even if lily-flower didn't, y/n would still be decent as a girlfriend i guess. no harm," james continued.
remus frowned, his skin burning. how could someone do that? having you as a second option? total bullshit. he wouldn't let you get treated like that. he wouldn't let james pick on your self esteem like that.
you're too good for anyone. he knows. being a substitute for someone because their crush doesn't like them back is not morally right. your soft heart is too precious to be crushed that way.
"prongs- i think that's a good idea! by then you can get lily to confess to you! you'd be everything!" sirius encouraged james, much to remus' dismay.
"moons?"
"moony has been real quiet-"
"i don't think that's a good idea," remus said sternly. he would be flaring laser beams from his eyes at james if he were a cartoon character.
james' mouth dropped, "why?"
"because- cause she's my girlfriend!" remus spoke abruptly, not knowing what he had actually said.
"your what?" all three of them screamed in shock. remus never said anything about a girl.
"how long?"
"how did that happen?"
"why didn't you tell us?"
"stop!" remus yelled, making them shut their mouth. he was panicking now. you are not his girlfriend. you'll never be. not now. not even tomorrow or the day after tomorrow.
"i started to date her like... two weeks ago," remus said before standing up, grabbing his bag before he headed out of the room. "i have to go, she said something about wanting to meet me in the library."
he fumbled with the hem of his sweater. it was cold, but he was sweating heavily. he has to find you.
thank god the marauder's map was on his bag or he would be caught lying. he saw your name- beautifully written- you were on the clocktower field, sitting alone.
remus ran to where you are, panting when he arrived.
"oh y/n!" he said, taking heavy breaths.
"yeah? remus?" you looked up from your book, gazing at him with the softest yet confused pretty eyes.
"i made a big mistake- i'm so so sorry!" remus said hurriedly. his sweat trickling down his forehead.
"calm down rem, i'm sure it wasn't that horrible! sit beside me, we can talk," you sent him a comforting smile, patting the empty seat beside you.
remus sat down, wiping his palms on his trousers. how does he say it? when does he start?
"you okay?" you asked.
"noyou'rereallyprettyandkindandlovelyandsweetandiknowyouwillneverlikemebackandyouwillhatemeforthisbecauseiclaimedthatyouaremygirlfriendfortwoweeksandimsososorry."
"say that again?" you laughed, pulling out a napkin to hand it to the poor nervous boy before you.
"i may or may not have said that you are my girlfriend in front of my friends."
"why would you say that?" your heart skipped a beat, taking in the words remus has spoken. you'd be lying if you said that you've never dreamed of this- being called remus lupin's girl.
"because- it's kind of stupid really. i got it out before i even know what i was talking about that moment," he scrambled with his words, finding it hard to form a sentence right now.
"basically, james told me that he likes you but i know he does not like you. he said he wanted to go out with you just so lily can realise that she is in love with him. and i would never let him do that to you. putting you second, you deserve so much better than that. and long story short, i said that you are my girlfriend... yeah."
remus lupin was doing this for you. so that you don't get played. how sweet.
"uhm," you looked down, playing with the hem of your skirt.
"uhm- would you be in for- y'know fake dating... me..?" remus said awkwardly. "it's alright if you don't want to, i'll make some excuses. but please don't agree on going out with james. i don't want you hurt," he whispered the last words. it was half self-indulgent in his part. seeing his the girl he's been pining for years dating his best friend is not a good feeling. but he also doesn't want you to be a second choice. it feels horrible to be. knowing that feeling all to well.
"okay- i guess i can date you," you said shyly. cheeks turning crimson.
"okay- great. we can stop if you don't feel comfortable. don't wanna pressure- just for a few weeks," he said once more.
"it's fine rem, or should i call you honey? or darling? or-" you laughed, seeing his flushed face. he is so adorable. how lucky you are to have him as your 'boyfriend'.
"how can i be a girlfriend?" you asked as you two walked back from the field.
holding hands.
it wasn't in his mind that you would ever hold his hand but you are now. dreams really do come true huh.
"we just keep it normal- i mean like we hold hands, and maybe i will hug you more often, those pda stuffs. remember, only if you're comfortable." such a gentleman he is. he always makes sure that you are comfortable everytime. gosh that gave you the fluttery butterflies.
"okay, i can manage," you giggled.
"y/n- darlin'', can i sit with you during breakfast tomorrow?" remus whispered. you both were sitting on the common room in the corner, the other marauders sprawled a few feet away.
"sure, you can," you smiled softly at him.
he squeezed your hands, resting his cheek on your shoulder. this small action gave you butterflies, the pretty sparks. his face was pressed against the fabric of your soft cardigan, with one of his arm around you.
it's just been three days and you have fallen more in love.
remus on the other hand is trying not to get this too much in his head or he'd go feral. being this close to you and basically cuddling on the couch felt like a fever dream. one that he doesn't want to wake up from.
your silky skin, that periwinkle smile, those wonderstruck lips, angelic face, your incandescent touch, those misty eyes. he loves them all. how could one not? he felt the luckiest in the school for having this. having you with him on a cold friday night under the same fluffy blanket of yours. the smell of you intoxicating his nose. he isn't bothered by it. he enjoyed it.
the most obvious thing in a relationship is display of affection. though it wasn't hard for any of you to do that. remus held your bag, your books, your papers, even the things you can do yourself. he insisted that he had to help you bring them.
and that goes for days. you and remus fake dating.
james was still skeptical about remus sudden relationship. remus was never the one to look for love in his life. well- at least that's what sirius observed.
he couldn't help but look more into details of remus' 'relationship'. he noticed how remus never kissed you in public. or at least when he's in the same room as you and remus are.
"if you've been dating for three weeks now, why haven't you two got in the next step yet?" james squinted his eyes at the both of you. holding hands while studying.
"whatever do you mean by that?" remus questioned.
"like- i don't know kissing..?"
"i do kiss her often," remus replied, shrugging before he squeezed your knuckles, rubbing soft circles.
"how come i've never seen it?" james asked childishly.
"well here. maybe because you don't have to see or know or hear everything about my personal life," remus replied rather coldly.
"i'm starting to think you two are f-"
james' words were cut short as remus' lips locked to yours, wrapping them in a deep kiss.
james let out an "o" sound, walking outside the common room because the tension would be awkward for the three of you.
the moment he stepped out of the room, remus pulled away. eyes brimmed with fear and embarrassment. "sweetheart, i'm so sorry," remus said.
"it's okay remus..." you still haven't processed what had just happened but you sure did kind of enjoyed it.
"um we- we should do that more often. i mean- to make it more real y'know..." he said stiffly. it's not actually about 'making it more real'. he just wanted to kiss you, feel you. he really liked kissing you.
you didn't know what you're getting yourself into. you thought whatever this thing is would only last for two days and then you'll be back in your daydreaming days. but it wasn't. remus is still there.
that goes on for months. the both of you went from holding hands, to kissing, to lean on each other, to more boyfriend and girlfriend things. if you didn't know better, you'd think he's not faking all of this.
hogsmeade trip is coming up, that's the only thing the students are talking about right now. visiting new shops and doing early holiday shoppings. you'd be lying if you said you weren't excited. not only will the village be like a winter wonderland with the snow all over the ground and the roof, but also since remus is going with you for the day.
"you excited, dove?" remus smiled when he met you halfway on the walk to the carriage. he pulls out his gloved hand from his pocket to place it around your back.
you pressed yourself against his warmth, giggling in content. you didn't really have to speak, remus knows.
he kissed the top of your forehead, then guide you to the carriage with some random students.
as the thestrals pulled, you beamed when the snow starts falling down. perfect. everything is so perfect right now. snowflakes fall down your lashes and hair, a sight remus wanted to tattoo in his mind forever.
you had worn make up today, he can visibly see the pinkish shadow in your eyelids. remus couldn't help but admire how pretty your make up looks. how you're so good at doing anything.
your lips were a pink shade close to your natural ones, he wanted to kiss them- give your lips warmth. he was staring at you for so long to the point where he didn't realise that the carriage had arrived.
"it's pretty here! i always love seeing snow on the roof," you smiled brightly at the snow-covered roofs, inhaling the smell of fresh snow falling from the sky.
"they sure are," he agreed, "do you want to go to the cafe for a bit? the ride was cold," he blew his palms.
"of course!"
smell of fresh baked goods filled your nose, contrast to the outside. you two chose a spot near the fireplace, ordering a cup of hot cocoa.
there was a comfortable silence between the both of you. neither really have to talk. you just smiled at each other occasionally, looking around the room after. times like these make your fake relationship feels real.
when you finished your cups of hot cocoa, you two went to honeydukes, buying lots of sweets for the holiday stocks.
remus paid for your chocolates. you insisted on paying them yourself but he refused. dumping his handful of sweets over yours so they were mixed, making it impossible for you to pick yours up.
"rem, you know you can't do this right?"
"why not?" he pouted, "i want to be a good boyfriend after all."
he gave butterflies to your stomach, you hide your visibly burning cheeks on his shoulder, hugging his arm.
he loved that, so much. it feels so real, like you actually love being with him.
then you walked in a bookstore, choosing your read for the month. this time you were paying for him. "you're being so kind, and i love that but let me reciprocate that too!"
remus just nodded in defeat, kissing the crown of your head.
you and remus had a wonderful trip, one that will always be remembered. just before you part your ways, you said, "i've enjoyed the trip a lot. thank you remus for spending the day with me." you yawned, rubbing your eyes. then you kissed him. it was remus who initiates the kisses first, but this time it's you.
he cant help but feel those butterflies inside him again, holding your figure securely. "i'm getting tired, i'll see you tomorrow, love." you kissed him once more before climbing up to the girl's dormitory. leaving remus in utter shock.
maybe you guys aren't fake dating after all. maybe this is real all along. the last time the two of you ever said 'fake' was so long ago. that made him realise that this is real.
oh he can't sleep that night.
the next morning remus was skipping down to the great hall for breakfast with an uncontrolled smile on his face. this morning he woke up earlier, took a warm shower, brushed his hair, and do all things that james potter does.
"you look extra happy today hm?" james questioned, quirking one of his eyebrows up.
"just had a really good date yesterday, so good," remus replied, grabbing a plate of waffles with yoghurt and a bunch of other fruits.
"i didn't know you like kiwis," sirius snorted.
remus rolled his eyes, scoffing, "it's for my girl, look she's coming!" he said shyly, waving his hand for you.
you sat beside him greeting the students around a good morning. "you look- different, did you cut your hair?"
remus laughed, shaking his head.
"oh," you giggled, scrunching your face. remus loves that sight. you look so pretty and adorable every single day, he was so lucky. "you're handsome, y'know," you opted, making his cheeks redder.
"ugh lovebirds," sirius gagged, stuffing his mouth with potatoes.
remus smiled to himself, then he grabbed your fingers, intertwining them together. "here, your breakfast, i cut the waffles so you can eat easier. not that i think you'll have a hard time cutting waffles- you are perfectly capable of doing anything by yourself."
your heart fluttered at his words.
how much of a gentleman he is being! you wished he is your actual boyfriend. the girl that ends up with him must be so lucky.
"thank you so much," you said.
christmas is coming, and there was a party thrown at the gryffindor's common room.
"it's not even christmas yet padfoot," remus stated.
"i know, that's why it's called a pre-christmas celebration party!" sirius cheered as he wrote a letter to one of the firewhiskey store at hogsmeade, ordering boxes of the drink. he also ordered some butterbeer for those who don't drink.
"well you better celebrate cause this is the day where i'm asking lily flower out!" james said happily.
"sure prongs," remus nodded unconvincingly.
"are you enjoying the party?" he came up to you right after your friend was leaving to the bathroom.
"i am! loving the option of butterbeer," you replied.
"you haven't got any drinks?" remus asked.
"nope, i just had a chocolate cake and a butterbeer," you said.
"good good, you don't want to be like sirius or james," he pointed to the both of them. they were dancing on the sofa, jumping like rockstars, holding nonexistent guitars.
you laughed at them before grabbing his hand. "hope you don't mind, getting crowded here."
remus squeezed your knuckles, "i don't mind, you can hold me whenever you'd like."
the the two of your heard a joyous yell from james potter. "lily said yes!" he said to everyone. you can already sense lily's eye roll from there.
"finally!" remus laughed.
but you didn't. what happens now? are you and remus going to stop dating because james will not pick on you anymore or will this be continued.
that night ended with you staring at the ceiling, frowning of whatever's coming.
remus was still his lovely self, he still gives you kisses, hugs you, gets your breakfast ready, and all that sweet things he does.
you on the other hand was sceptical. maybe he just forgot or maybe he didn't know how to tell you. so you did the only thing in your mind. avoiding him little by little as days passed. it's the only way to get this over with as soon as possible before you completely fall for him more and more. like people say 'you've got to leave before you get left'.
remus noticed as days passed. you don't kiss him back anymore. you don't hug his arm. you rarely touch his hand. it was frustrating.
did you really stopped liking him? or was everything just in his head. he couldn't get those thoughts out of his mind. he was feeling less joyful as he usually does.
one evening you saw him alone in front of the fire place, a book open but he was staring at the burning fire. you couldn't help but saw how his beautiful face was forming frown, forehead crinkling and sorrow eyes.
you approached the boy, placing your hand on his shoulder gently.
remus flinched, turning around, "i didn't know you're there." his voice was croaky.
"it's okay, i just got here. are you feeling alright?" you sat beside him, knees touching.
"um i- don't know..?" he replied, his eyes averted back to the fire.
your heart sunk, a part of you knew that this is maybe your fault. you were doing this to him.
"rem, talk to me. maybe i can help."
"you've been distant," he replied. he cringed at how stupid those words sounded.
"i uh-"
"did i do something? i'm sorry, i'm sorry for making you feel that way. if you don't want to be together that's fine and-"
"what are you talking about? remus you didn't do anything wrong!"
"well why are you avoiding me as if our relationship means nothing."
"remus-," you paused, trying to find the words. "we are faking all of this remember?"
"what?" remus asked. you could see the pure shock in his face also a tint of sadness . "i thought we were dating- not fake dating."
"huh? since when?"
"after our hogsmeade date... i'm so sorry for jumping on to conclusions way too fast. i just thought we were together because it felt so real. like just- you and me- we-"
your heart clenched, "what if i told you that it felt real too?" you whispered.
"what do you mean?" he avoided eye contact.
"i love spending time with you. you made that hogsmeade trip so memorable for me. no one has made me feel so- so content. it felt like you- you like me."
"i like you," he replied.
"i like you too," you replied.
he relaxed, a soft smile on his lips. "so you thought we were faking all of this while i'm over here thinking that we are mutually in love?"
you giggled, trying to ignore the part where he said love. "you never asked me to be your girlfriend, how was i supposed to know?"
"okay yes that was my fault, so would you like to be my absolutely-real-not-fake-long-time girlfriend?" remus asked with a cheeky smile.
"i accept your offer as your absolutely-real-not-fake-long-time girlfriend," you replied.
you both laughed, and remus pulled you to his chest as he rest his chin over your shoulder. "remember earlier when i said i like you? scratch that- i love you."
2K notes · View notes
ginnsbaker · 2 months
Text
fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (1/?)
Tumblr media
“I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand,” you say, hands retreating into the pockets of your white coat. Leigh takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what she knows will be a difficult conversation.
“I recently found out that my husband was cheating on me,” she says, her green eyes boring into yours. “With you.” Or the one where you fall in love with the widow of an ex-lover you never knew was married.
Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 6k+ | Warnings: None for now | A/N: I wrote about 30k words of the Succession Wanda but hit a wall in terms of plot progression. So that's on hold. Allow me to apologize with this two-shot. P.S. I've always wanted to write for Leigh, and this idea came out of nowhere. Loosely based on canon.
Masterlist | Next Part
-
Leigh wakes up in a bed that’s not hers for the first time in months, and the unfamiliar scent of freshly cut grass and cedarwood almost immediately overwhelms her senses, suffocating her with its cloying sweetness.
“Jules?” she croaks out, her mind clawing its way through the fog. When it lifts a few seconds later, Leigh realizes where she is and what she’s done.
And how she’s very, very naked underneath the sheets. 
The person lying next to her in the bed starts to move. Right away, she knows it's not her sister, unless she's somehow caught up in a prank she doesn't find amusing at all. And so, she braces herself for her dead husband’s brother's voice to shatter the silence.
But it never comes. Instead, an arm drapes itself across her stomach, pulling her towards warmth. Leigh gets the sudden urge to vomit, except she skipped dinner and there isn’t anything to bring up. Last night, in a desperate attempt to fill the void left by Matt's absence, she had reached out to someone she shouldn't have. Someone Leigh didn’t even like to begin with. A knot tightens further in her stomach as she considers what her husband’s ghost would think. 
Would he approve? Would he feel betrayed or disgusted as she does?
Careful not to disturb Danny, who still sleeps soundly beside her, Leigh slips out of bed with the grace of a cat. She gathers her clothes from the floor and dresses herself with heavy limbs, each garment reminding her of how Danny had taken them off her body. 
As messed up as it sounds, Leigh can't help but draw parallels between him and Matt. They share the same blood, but there's not a single trait in Danny that triggers memories of Matt. With Danny, it's all about his own desires, his movements reflecting his wants. But with Matt, it's like he's always bending to Leigh’s will, submitting to her.
It tears Leigh’s heart anew. 
As she finishes dressing, Leigh glances around searching for her watch. She second-guesses whether she even wore it last night, the disarray of her thoughts mirrored in the disarray of the room. Her eyes scan the bedside table, the floor, and the dresser, but there's no sign of the timepiece.
A sudden sound from Danny startles her, and she freezes in place. She doesn't believe she can prevent herself from literally bolting out of the house if he so much as breathes her name. She’s rooted in her spot however, waiting for his breathing to steady, her heart pounding in her ears. Only when she's certain he's in a deep slumber does she release a pent-up breath, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. In that moment, she mentally curses herself once more, acutely aware of the mess she's created, before tiptoeing towards the bedroom door and abandoning the search for her watch altogether.
As she considers her options, she entertains the idea of escaping town altogether. Maybe if she leaves, she can avoid Danny for the coming days, possibly forever. Leigh wonders if she ever made Matt feel this trapped, inadvertently pushing him to leave in the only way he knew she could never follow.
-
Several days after ignoring Danny’s calls and attempts to talk to her, he retaliates by telling her the most absurd thing about his brother.
He tells Leigh she wasn’t the only one. There had been two others in the last year. 
And the last one, he fell for hard. Or at least that’s what Danny believes.
“I don’t believe you,” she says, her eyes beginning to sting a little. “If you think making me hate Matt would change my mind about us, then—”
“I’m not trying to manipulate you, Leigh,” Danny interrupts calmly, shaking his head. “I just believe you deserve to know the truth. Maybe it'll help you stop blaming yourself and move on.”
“It just seems a little too convenient that this 'truth' works in your favor to tarnish Matt's reputation, doesn't it?” Leigh points out with a humorless smile. She’s always thought the worst of Danny, but she never imagined he’d go as far as fabricating a story just to get her on his side.
“I understand your skepticism, I do. I couldn’t believe it at first either,” he says, his gaze dropping to the ground as if the transgression he’s confessing were his own, not Matt’s. “But think about it. Have you ever walked in on Matt just as he's ending a call? Noticed how he's suddenly started spending more time at work, consistently twice a week? And what about his sudden interest in going to the gym and being conscious about what he eats? These are all signs, Leigh.”
His words push her to think about it, even though she doesn't want to. Leigh starts to reflect on how Matt had stopped leaving his phone unattended during showers, how he had suddenly logged off his social media accounts from her laptop, or the noticeable enhancement of his physique—all juxtaposed against a lingering decrease in his appetite for intimacy with his wife.
“I…” Leigh hesitates, searching for a rebuttal but finding none. Then Danny gives her a look—one of pity and longing that makes her want to crawl out of her skin—and suddenly she finds herself vehemently denying all of it.
“I still don’t believe you,” she says, desperately clinging to the last shreds of the illusion she had crafted around her marriage.
Danny's expression remains unreadable and it drives her further up the wall. “Fine. Believe what you want, Leigh. I'm just trying to look out for you.”
Leigh's jaw tightens. “Regardless of what you say—whether it’s real or not—I know what I want, and it's not to be with you.”
He keeps up the stony facade, opting instead to pull a card out of his wallet and hand it to her. Leigh accepts the card, her fingers quivering, as a solitary tear finally breaks free and trails down her cheek.
Danny begins to reach out, intending to brush away her tear, but hesitates at the last moment, withdrawing his hand. 
“See for yourself. Goodbye, Leigh.”
-
Just two days later, Leigh finds herself in front of the small animal clinic you own, situated a short walk away from Beautiful Beast—the fitness studio her mom owns and where she works. 
Though the sun hangs low in the sky, she's been awake long before it began to rise. She waits for the receptionist to flip the sign from “Sorry, we’re closed” to “Come in, we’re open,” ignoring the curious glance directed her way when the receptionist notices she isn’t accompanied by a furry companion. With a determined smile on her lips, Leigh pushes open the door and steps into the clinic knowing she'll leave it with answers—whatever they might be.
The receptionist looks up from her computer, her expression shifting from curiosity to concern when she sees the look on Leigh's face. “Can I help you?” 
Leigh clears her throat, trying to steady her voice. She tells her she’s looking for you, her words coming out in a rush.
The receptionist furrows her brow. “Do you have an appointment?”
Leigh shakes her head, blinking rapidly as she comes up with an excuse. “No, it's... it's urgent,” she stammers. “I need to speak to her right away.”
The receptionist appears mildly annoyed, but it doesn’t faze Leigh in the slightest. “I'll check if she's available. Please take a seat,” she says.
Leigh nods mutely and sinks into one of the chairs. She clasps her hands together tightly in her lap, trying to quell the rising tide of panic threatening to consume her. She imagines Matt’s ghost watching her this very second, frowning at her doubts about their relationship by coming here in the first place. 
And what if she’s wrong? What if Matt wasn’t cheating on her after all? But Leigh had to come here to put the issue to rest. Matt would understand why she needs to do this. He always did. 
A few moments later, the door behind the reception desk opens and the receptionist emerges from it, motioning for Leigh to enter. 
Leigh finds you standing behind your desk, your back to her, arranging a stack of medical records on the shelf.
“Dr. Y/N?” Leigh calls out softly.
You turn around at the sound of her voice, and when she sees you for the first time, Leigh immediately knows.
Danny was telling the truth. It takes everything in her not to break down in front of a stranger her husband fell in love with.
You, however, don’t recognize the woman standing before you, thinking perhaps she's simply one of your past clients. You offer Leigh a contrite smile. “You wanted to see me? Miss…?”
“Leigh Shaw.”
The name doesn’t ring a bell either, but you keep a friendly smile on your face. 
Leigh hesitates for a moment before continuing, her voice sounding fragile. “I need to talk to you about my husband,” she says, studying your clueless face. You're stunning and accomplished—a doctor and a businesswoman. You have a smile that could brighten even the darkest room.
Matt never stood a chance, did he?
“I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand,” you say, hands retreating into the pockets of your white coat.
Leigh takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what she knows will be a difficult conversation. 
“I recently found out that my husband was cheating on me,” she says, her green eyes boring into yours. “With you.”
-
After leaving your clinic, Leigh heads straight to Matt’s grave, stomping angrily on the sparse sheet of grass that has begun to sprout from his resting place.
“You're such a fucking liar!” she spits out at the unsusceptible headstone, the heat of fury spreading through her veins and to every molecule in her body. The cold wind lashes through her hair as Leigh drops to her knees, feeling like the entire world is bearing down on her. She reaches out to touch the cold marble of the headstone, still seeking solace from the one who caused her so much hurt.
“Why, Matt?”
She knows there will be no answers—only the cold silence of death.
Leigh feels a surge of anger rise within her once more as she recalls the way you looked at her—the pain in your eyes when she revealed to you that Matt had died. What you two had was real, as real as what she had with him. She had been hoping it was at least just a fling, but alas, she couldn’t be further from her assumptions.
“I can't believe I ever loved you,” Leigh mutters bitterly. She wants to scream, to rage against the injustice of it all. But all she can do is clutch at the grass beneath her, her nails digging into the earth as if trying to anchor herself against the torrent of pain crippling her chest. Tears stream down her face as she finally collapses to the ground, assuming a fetal position, whispering, “I can't believe I still do.”
-
You continue to stare at the space that Leigh previously occupied for a good ten minutes, not moving an inch from where you stood—shocked, hurt, confused. Matt, the man you had been seeing, was dead. And not just dead, but married. Married to someone else, someone named Leigh Shaw, a name so important but he managed to hide from you for weeks. 
Matt had never mentioned a wife, never wore a ring, never hinted at the existence of someone waiting for him at home. If he had, you would never have let him get as close to you like he did. You've always respected boundaries and families—and now you've discovered that unwittingly, you've destroyed one.
Leigh's departure was swift, just as soon as you confessed to having feelings for her husband and how Matt reciprocated those same feelings. Leigh, ruthless in her questioning, demanded to know if you had slept with Matt. You swore you never did, detailing how Matt abruptly ghosted you after your first kiss, leaving you with nothing but unanswered texts and missed calls. 
You wanted so badly for Leigh to believe you, and you think she did. However, none of it mattered in the end. He cheated all the same. He hurt the woman he made a promise to love and stay faithful to. 
Because of you.
You feel sickened by your own naivety; by the way you have allowed yourself to be fooled by his lies. And yet, amidst the anger and self-recrimination, there is a profound sense of loss. Despite the circumstances of your relationship, you had cared for Matt deeply. Maybe even loved him.
But how much of it was real? How much of it was not about him running from his problems with his wife and using you as a distraction? The ease with which he slipped out of your life suddenly fits into place.
While his passing deeply rattled you, it's now largely overshadowed by thoughts of his widow.
Leigh Shaw.
Earlier, even though you said sorry over and over, it felt like it wasn't enough, and you wanted to do more to make her feel better. What stopped you was the realization that you're likely the last person she would want comfort from. A sense of helplessness washes over you as you come to the conclusion that there's nothing you can do to undo the damage that's been done. Matt is gone, and Leigh's world has been shattered in ways you can't even begin to imagine. 
Moving on from Matt is something you know you could do. He wasn’t the first person to break your heart, be it through deceit or demise. But the situation with Leigh is unfamiliar territory.
How do you fix this for her? 
Will she even let you?
-
When Leigh tells Jules about Matt’s infidelity, her sister fixates on the detail that she slept with Danny. It’s not the response Leigh expected. She anticipated shock, and maybe even a bit of outrage on her behalf. But instead, Jules latches onto the one detail that seems to pale in comparison to the enormity of Matt's betrayal.
“But how could you?” Jules asks, her voice incredulous as she chews on a dumpling. “How could you sleep with Danny?”
Faced with her sister's disapproval, Leigh finds herself clamming up. “Are you kidding? I just told you that Matt was cheating on me, and your response is to judge me for hooking up with a single guy while I'm single?” Leigh retorts, hastily wiping her lips with a napkin.
Jules just shakes her head, putting down her chopsticks. “Leigh, I get it. Matt’s betrayal is awful, and you have every right to be angry. But the ‘single guy’ you hooked up with isn't just any guy, and you know it. You don't think it's weird? What would people think? That all this time, sleeping with your husband’s brother has always been an option?”
Leigh's eyes widen in shock, and for a moment, she's speechless. She hadn't—didn't want to entertain the idea of what sleeping with Danny would imply. She was chasing a feeling; any feeling that wasn’t emptiness. And with Danny, she did feel something, even if it was regret and shame. At least it proved she was still capable of feeling at all.
“It… just happened,” Leigh murmurs, rubbing her temples. Hollowness and migraines, she's almost forgotten.
“And? Is it going to be a ‘thing’?” Jules probes, eyebrows raised.
Leigh lifts her gaze, biting back a defensive retort. Instead she simply says, “Absolutely not.”
Jules seems satisfied with that, knocking back the rest of her beer. “Good.”
But as Jules moves on, Leigh’s left stewing in her own thoughts. Telling Jules felt like yelling into a void—exhausting and utterly pointless. Now she’s dreading the thought of breaking the news to Drew. If Jules’ reaction was any indication, she’s in for another round of disappointment. 
Being a young widow already sets her apart, but nothing makes her feel more alone than her family's inability to truly grasp her grief. She guesses she's been feeling alone for years, long before Matt came into her life and subsequently left it.
Jules, catching the tail end of Leigh's distant look, leans in and asks, “So, what's the plan now? You still going to that grief counseling group? Danny's been showing up there, right?”
Leigh's gaze sharpens, a bit taken aback by the sudden shift back to practicalities. “Are you asking about my plans with Danny? Because I already told you, that's over. I'm never seeing him again.”
Jules raises her hands in a placating gesture, mindful that one wrong move could tip Leigh over the edge for good. “Not really, no. I'm asking if you're still keen on processing your grief. Now that it turns out Matt was... well, a snake.”
Jules calling Matt a snake doesn't sit well with Leigh even with his cheating coming to light. But she supposes it's Jules' way of being on her side every once in a while. It's a clumsy attempt, but an attempt nonetheless.
“Yeah, I'm still going,” Leigh finally says, her gaze dropping to her lap before meeting Jules' eyes again. “Not for Danny, not for anyone else, but for me. Turns out, finding out your rotting husband was living a double life does a number on you. Who knew, right?”
Jules cracks a small, rueful smile at that and says, “Who knew indeed.”
Leigh thinks back to the time when she believed she knew Matt inside and out, a belief so deeply ingrained it felt like a cornerstone of her identity as his wife. She prided herself on their connection, convinced that they shared everything—every thought, every fear, every dream. It was a pride rooted in the belief that she knew him better than anyone else could, and he, her, in the same intimate manner.
It was the kind of recognition that’s not only about knowing his favorite color or the way he took his coffee. It’s deeper and more layered. She knew the exact tone of voice he'd use when he was about to apologize, the look in his eyes when he was holding back tears, the subtle shift in his posture when he was trying to be braver than he felt. And she thought he knew her just as intricately—the silent language of her sighs, the meaning behind her quietest smiles, the small, everyday details that they believed only they could understand about each other.
“It's hard, you know? Feeling like you're mourning someone who never really existed,” Leigh mumbles after a long pause.
“Yeah, I can't even imagine,” Jules responds, reaching across the table to give Leigh's hand a brief squeeze. “But I'm here, okay? Even if I don't always get it right.”
Jules, Drew, Danny, her mom—all of them—rarely get it right. It has always been Matt. 
He has always been all she has and needed. 
Even if Leigh wasn't aware that she was probably just getting his scraps.
-
Maybe it was me, Leigh keeps thinking over the next several days. Maybe I pushed him to it.
It doesn’t help that there’s a new member who has also been widowed, and she’s sharing about her late husband who had quite a number of mistresses throughout their eighteen years of marriage.
Leigh listens, her fingers twisted together in her lap, as the woman talks about the signs she missed, the lies she believed.
“I just keep thinking,” the woman's voice breaks, “if I'd been more attentive, more... I don't know, less demanding, maybe things would've been different.”
Maybe it was me, Leigh keeps screaming inside. Maybe I pushed him to it.
-
It took Leigh a long time to return to the apartment she shared with Matt after his passing. 
Mostly, it's because Leigh found it difficult to confront the scattered remnants of him that would remain untouched in his absence. No longer would he be picking up his favorite shirt or completing another page of his crossword puzzle book. Yet, these belongings would remain his, just as Leigh felt she still belonged to him.
So it’s ironic that now, surrounded by the same belongings in her bedroom at her mother’s home, she's being overwhelmed by the impulse to turn them all into ashes. In a sudden frenzy, Leigh grabs a box and begins to throw everything inside. The sound of her ragged breathing fills the room, only matched by the soft thuds of objects landing in the cardboard. 
“Stupid fucking toys!” she shouts, tossing a figurine with more force than necessary.
“And this shirt—what were you thinking?” She grabs a garishly patterned fabric, shaking it at the empty air as if expecting an answer.
Her voice cracks, “You're not even here, and you're driving me crazy!”
As Leigh's wrath burns through the remnants of Matt’s life, her thoughts take a dark turn. The things he owned, the pieces of his life flying from her hand—it all leads her back to the one person who had a piece of him, a piece that was never hers.
The thought of your face, the one that belonged to him too at one point, flashes in her mind, and she's on the edge of losing all control. 
If only Leigh could throw you into the box too.
Finally, she finds the book he gave her for her last birthday, the one she never read, and for a moment, her movements pause. Then, with a cry of anguish, she tosses it in as well. When the box is full, she kicks it. Once, twice, thrice—each kick releasing a burst of pent-up fury until she's gasping for breath.
A knock at the door startles her. It's soft but persistent, making it obvious that whoever is outside has heard the commotion in her room. “Leigh, honey, are you done in there?” Amy's voice seeps through the wood.
Leigh wipes at her eyes. “Almost. I, uh… just give me a minute,” she calls back. She’s not done—not really. But she’ll probably set the house on fire if she doesn’t stop here.
Pushing herself up, Leigh opens the door. She knows the sight she presents isn't pretty—eyes swollen red, nose a mess, and those dark circles. But her mom has seen this look more times than either would care to count.
“You okay?” her mom asks, though the answer's written all over Leigh's face.
Leigh shakes her head, no energy to pretend.
“Want some breakfast?”
Again, “No,” slips out.
Then, “Need a ride to the studio?” her mom tries again.
“Yes,” Leigh finds herself saying, clinging to the offer like a lifeline, a small acknowledgment that life, somehow, must go on.
-
The following day, Leigh looks at the box, then at everything around her. She mutters, “Screw this,” and starts pulling everything out of the box, putting it all back where it came from.
-
Leigh's back at running, not because she loves it, but because the sun insists on poking her awake before the rest of the world stirs. It's an old hobby, dusted off to fill the gaping mornings before her first yoga class. 
It’s easy to do because she realizes she’s good at it. Leigh’s only been at it for just a couple of weeks and already she's feeling fitter, faster. She likes the pain too, not being aware before that there are different kinds of pain, and some of them do feel good—addicting even. 
Mid-thought, her routine jog takes a wild left turn: stranded in the middle of the bustling traffic is a French Bulldog, looking decidedly out of place. Ignoring the honks and the near misses, Leigh bolts across the street. It's a bit of a mad dash, dodging cars that are swerving and braking hard. She scoops him up in her arms and doesn’t stop to think about the close calls. 
It hits her then—she's surprised at her own gutsiness, not even pausing to think that she could've been clipped by a car not paying attention. Maybe all this time spent wrestling with thoughts of death has brought her to a strange peace with it and is no longer scared of it. It's like she's danced with death so much, it's just another shadow she passes by—not something that paralyzes her in place anymore.
Leigh’s not sure if being this fearless is actually a good thing though.
After cooling her heels on the sidewalk for half an hour, with no owner in sight, she shrugs and decides he’s coming home with her.
Jules gives her a scrutinizing look the moment she walks in. “What, you went out for a run and decided to get a dog?”
“Rescue mission,” Leigh shoots back, setting the dog down. “Found him in the middle of Second Street. Seems he’s lost.”
Jules doesn't miss a beat, heading straight for the newcomer. She kneels, her hands gently petting the dog, her eyes softening in a way that Leigh rarely sees. The dog, clearly pleased with the attention, wags its tail vigorously. Her eyes are practically giving her away, so it sounds almost funny when she looks up at Leigh and says, “Just don't get too attached, okay?”
“I won’t, which is why I named him Visitor. It’s temporary,” Leigh says with a smile, looking very proud of the name she came up with.
Jules chuckles, standing up and brushing off her knees. “Nerd. Matt would've gotten a kick out of that.”
The room just freezes at the mention of his name. Talking about Matt is like walking into a glass door you didn't see.
Jules tries to backpedal, “Hey, sorry, I—” But Leigh's quick to brush it off with a shrug. 
“Don't worry about it. Let's just figure out where Visitor here belongs, okay?”
As they refocus on Visitor, Jules can't help but notice the way the dog favors one leg as he trots over to sit snugly between Leigh's legs, looking up at her with those big, trusting eyes. “Looks like he's got a bit of a limp,” Jules points out.
Leigh frowns and leans down to get a closer look, her fingers gently probing around Visitor's leg until she finds a tender spot. The moment she applies a little pressure, Visitor yelps, pulling away sharply and retreating a few steps.
Jules winces at the reaction. “Yeah, that's not good. Maybe we should take him to a vet?”
Leigh can barely hold back a grimace as her brain immediately links you to the situation.
“What's wrong?” Jules notices the sudden shift in Leigh’s mood. “There's St. Mary's Animal Clinic nearby. I heard they're great.”
That's your clinic. Leigh's throat tightens at the thought, the memories of her visit flooding back. “Are there others around here?”
Jules looks puzzled at the question. “I mean, I can look it up, but what's wrong with St. Mary's?”
Leigh considers whether she should tell Jules about meeting you. Part of her really knows it’s unfair to dislike you, especially if you genuinely didn't know Matt was married. But she knows Jules too well—tell her, and it'll turn into a whole thing. Leigh's not sure she's up for that drama.
Despite her reservations, Leigh decides to bite the bullet, her curiosity getting the better of her. Besides, if she can’t be brave enough to talk about this in her counseling group, she should probably at least tell Jules.
“Actually, Jules,” Leigh begins, “St. Mary's Animal Clinic is where... where she works.”
Jules's eyes widen in shock, her hand flying to her mouth. “Wait, you mean... you mean her, as in…?” she stammers, disbelief written all over her face.
“Yup,” Leigh confirms, smacking her lips forcefully. 
“Oh my god—that bitch,” Jules spits out, her voice dripping with disdain before Leigh can even brace for impact.
“She didn’t know Matt’s married,” Leigh clarifies quickly.
“And you bought that?”
“I had a feeling she was telling the truth. Besides, I can’t imagine Matt being that brazen to pursue someone while married. He can be a little self-righteous sometimes,” Leigh says, only half-sure of her statement. Recently, she has to remind herself that maybe she never really knew him at all.
Then, an idea sparks in Jules's mind. “You know what?” she says, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Maybe this is a good opportunity. After all, she owes you one, right? Maybe she'll treat Visitor for free, to make up for being... well, you know.”
Leigh rubs her nose, skeptical of the idea. “I don't know, Jules. I don't want to impose…”
Jules leans in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “I mean, if she's the reason you're hurting, maybe she should make it right?”
She isn't hurting because of you, not directly. That's why Jules’ suggestion hangs in the air, unappealing. Leigh remembers the pity in your eyes from that morning, and she doesn't want it. She doesn't want anything from you at all. Her resolve instantly hardens like ice. 
“No,” Leigh finally says. “I don't want her charity. I'll pay for Visitor's bills myself. And I'll keep the receipts for when his real owners show up.” It's a decision that feels surprisingly empowering, a small reclaiming of control in a world that's felt off-kilter for too long.
Jules merely sighs; she knows better than to push Leigh when her mind’s made up. 
“Have it your way.”
-
Leigh brings Visitor to St. Mary’s the very next day.
There's a certain set to her jaw, a readiness for something less than pleasant. She doesn’t need to go through reception this time because she spots you right away, escorting a client to the door, cradling their puppy in your arms. Seeing you with a pet makes Leigh realize why you’ve chosen this profession. You fit right in among the animals, she muses bitterly.
It's with a sense of satisfaction that she watches your smile dissipate as soon as your eyes land on hers. 
She strides confidently towards you, dog in arms, forcing you to quickly hand off the puppy back to its owner. Yet, you recover with a swiftness that's begrudgingly admirable as you give her a look that’s equal parts professional and friendly—like you were actually looking forward to seeing her again.
“Good morning, Leigh. How can I help you?”
Without a word, Leigh extends the dog she’s carrying towards you, a silent transfer of trust, or perhaps, necessity. You gesture towards the consultation room, an invitation she accepts with a terse nod, following you into the space where you effortlessly shift into doctor mode.
As you begin to charm her dog, she can't help but narrow her eyes. It irks her, watching Visitor take to you instantly, as if you were old friends. “What's his name?” you ask, looking up at Leigh.
“Visitor.”
Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the name, just in time for your irises to capture the light seeping through the office blinds. They glow a hazel-brown, disarmingly so. Leigh forces herself to focus back on the purpose of her visit. 
Leigh continues, “He’s limping on his left hind leg. I’d appreciate it if you can prescribe him something. I'll try not to take up too much of your time.”
Ignoring the undercurrent of Leigh's insinuation, your attention remains undividedly on Visitor. The well-being of the dog before you eclipses any personal sentiments, as it always does. 
“I'm sorry, but before we can consider any medication, I need to examine him thoroughly. It's possible he might require some lab tests to rule out anything serious,” you tell her. Despite sounding apologetic, Leigh interprets it as your polite way of telling her to fuck off and let you do your job.
As you palpate the dog's leg carefully, you begin your routine questions. “Can you tell me his birthday? Any vaccination history?”
They’re basic, but they seem to catch Leigh off guard anyway. “He’s not mine. I found him on the street yesterday,” she reveals with a reluctant sigh.
The news prompts a more detailed response from you. 
“I see. In that case, we should definitely line up some tests for Visitor. We need to ensure he doesn't have distemper or any other airborne virus that could be affecting his mobility,” you suggest, already mentally cataloging the necessary procedures.
You start detailing the tests you intend to perform, explaining their purposes and associated costs. Leigh is clearly deluged by it all and you decide to take pity on the poor woman by adding that it’s still up to her which tests to proceed with, if any at all.
“Your call, Leigh,” you tell her.
Leigh can't shake off the vibe that you're throwing a gauntlet down in front of her. It's like her inner competitor wakes up, refusing to back down. “Do all of them,” she declares, tipping her chin up towards you. “Whatever you think is best.”
“That’s a good decision. We’ll take care of it right away,” you say, already picking up the phone to call the reception for assistance. 
Leigh's still trying to get a read on you. Was her arm twisted into this choice, or did you genuinely have Visitor's best interest at heart? She's not about to hand out trust like free samples, especially when she could end up misjudging you. It’s a tricky spot, especially because she’s clearly been wrong before.
-
The tests take their time, roughly an hour, after which Leigh finds herself pacing the lobby. An additional quarter-hour trickles by before the receptionist finally calls her back into the consultation room.
“Good news,” you start, making sure to catch her eye. She meets your look briefly before her attention shifts to Visitor. “It's only a sprain. The X-ray revealed no breaks or other issues. But,” you pause, checking to see if she's still fully engaged, “his blood tests indicated a low platelet count and evidence of an infection.”
Leigh listens intently, nodding along.
You explain what this means in a clear, concise manner, avoiding medical jargon as much as possible. “It's something we can manage with medication. I'll prescribe some antibiotics for the infection and pain medication to help with his discomfort. It's important that he completes the course of antibiotics to clear the infection completely.”
You watch Leigh closely, gauging her reaction and ready to answer any questions she might have. “We'll need to keep an eye on his platelet count, so I'd like to schedule a follow-up visit next week. This will also give us a chance to check how his leg is healing.”
“Will he be okay?” she asks without looking up from Visitor, busy scratching behind his ears.
“He'll be just fine,” you reassure her, adding, “Any questions about what we discussed?”
Leigh stays silent and you take it as your cue that she doesn’t have any thoughts on the matter. As she wraps up without saying much more, you realize it's time to wrap things up too. But there's something niggling at you, something that's been on your mind since the last time she was here. You're about to let her go, but then, out of nowhere, you feel this urge to clear the air about that whole mess with Matt. 
“So, uhm, about the other week when you…” you trail off, suddenly feeling like you're balancing on a tightrope without a net. You’re not so easily spooked by confrontations, but Leigh makes you nervous in a way you can’t explain. “I guess I just wanted to say sorry… for your loss, and for—”
“Does he really need to take pain medication for seven days?” Leigh cuts you off suddenly. It’s sharp enough for you to shut your mouth and abandon your attempt to get personal.
“Yes, the full course is important to ensure he's comfortable and that the inflammation goes down properly. It's just as crucial as the antibiotics for his recovery…”
Leigh nods, carefully scooping Visitor into her arms, preparing to leave.
You try one last time. “Leigh, I really am sorry–”
“I’ll see you next week, Dr. Y/L/N,” she says dismissively and then she’s gone.
605 notes · View notes
trash-king18 · 10 months
Text
miguelxpregnant!reader drabble
————
im so sorry but i can just imagine miguel laying his head on his wife’s stomach as he often does to get her to play with his hair because he’s a big baby and after laying down for a second he shoots up looking like he can’t believe something just happened
“ay miguel wtf”
he just shushes you and puts his head back to your stomach and when he looks up at you he has the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on his face
“oh my god what is wrong with you”
“mi vida… you’re pregnant”
“..what? no baby im not”
he looks like it’s christmas morning “yes cariño you are”
“how do you know” you’re assuming he was gonna say that he had a feeling
“i can hear it” you look at him like he’s gone insane
“hear what?”
“a heartbeat”
“uh yeah.. mine?”
he rolls his eyes “no.” his hands come to the sides of your waist and he just stares in wonder at your belly
“there’s another one. it’s small but it’s there”
“migs..” you place a hand on his face, you feel bad
“i know you want it to be true but i think i would know if i was over a month pregnant” (heartbeats develop around 35 days)
he just brings your hand down gently still smiling like a madman but then he looks at you very seriously “baby when was your last period”
you think about it for a second. you’ve been literally so wrapped up in work you hadn’t even noticed. your hand comes up to your mouth
“oh my god.”
he’s practically beaming at you but you.. just feel nauseous. “holy shit”
you spring up and run to the bathroom and lock yourself in. you hadn’t told him but you’d stashed a couple tests under the sink. you pulled every single one out and used all three.
he’s outside the bathroom door knocking repeatedly begging you to come out or let him in but you just sit on the floor too scared to look.
“bebe please come out”
“no”
“mi amor i will break this door down”
“don’t you dare”
you heard him sigh and slide down the wall to sit on the floor outside the door.
you wanted this. eventually. you were sure of it but you had expected it to be planned, you weren’t even off the pill yet.
your hands were trembling as you finally picked the test up and flipped the first one over.
and then the second
and then the third.
you sat on the floor a while longer to process. a few minutes later you finally open the door and his head turns to you, face full of concern. you put your hand on his shoulder so he doesn’t get up. you take a shaky breath and hand him the test
he takes it from your hand gently. his eyes widen as he reads it. he looks back up at you. your eyes are puffy you’d clearly been crying but before he can say something like “we have other options” “we don’t have to do this yet if you’re not ready” (which is exactly what he was about to say)
you look at him dead serious and threaten “if you baby me or smother me or try to keep me from working i will make you wish you were never born” but he isn’t even listening he just throws the test aside and pulls you down into his arms. you feel his shoulders shudder slightly
“miggy are you crying?”
he sniffles and looks down as you tip his face up with your hands
“aww mi cielo why are you crying”
“i just never thought i’d get another chance”
you wipe the tears from his face with your thumbs gently.
“well i guess we’re gonna have six kids now”
“six?”
“yeah”
he rolls his eyes even as another tear sneaks it’s way down his cheek “the spider teens are not our children”
“really? because we’ve essentially adopted all five of em”
“speak for yourself”
“oh come on migs i know you love em, even hobie”
“no.”
“mmmhm. i think i’m gonna ask him to be the godfather oo or maybe peter b”
his voice is firm but his face is soft and his eyes are still staring at you like you’re a real life angel he shakes his head gently “you will do no such thing cariño”
“don’t tell me you were planning on asking lego spider man”
“i-“
“god the attachment you have to that piece of plastic is concerning”
“don’t disrespect him like that”
————
the ending was not planned but it made me giggle and i hope you enjoyed
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shanastoryteller · 2 months
Note
Happy valentine's day! Could we have more female Naruto?
a continuation of 1 2 3
Naruto clocks Gaara the moment she sees him.
She keeps her smile wide and stance easy, putting her hands on her hips and squinting at the Sand kids. Sasuke and Sakura shift uneasily before deliberately relaxing, picking up on her attitude even if they don’t know why. “My dad told me about you guys! We should stick together, being the kids of kages and all.”
Her father had told her to be wary but hadn’t told her why. She has to believe he doesn’t know. The other option is that he somehow thought that she wouldn’t notice.
“You must be Naruto,” Temari says with a false friendliness that Naruto might not have been able to pick up on if she hadn’t spent her whole life with people loving her or hating her and having a disturbing habit of masking one as the other. “These are my brothers, Kankuro and Gaara. Are these your teammates?”
As if her father hadn’t warned her about the hosting kage’s kid. “Yeah, Sasuke Uchiha and Sakura Haruno.”
Neither of those names garner any reaction, but they wouldn’t. Sasuke’s status as Uchiha is obvious at first look and Sakura comes from a civilian family.
“Hi,” Kankuro says shortly.
Gaara says nothing at all, looking at them with those wide, empty eyes.
They’re going to be a problem. He’s going to be a problem.
~
Naruto knows better than to go to her father with anything important and if she tells her mother then she’ll try and pull her from the chunin exams, which is the last thing any of them needs.
She hates how often she ends up crawling back to her ex-fiance for help.
“Naruto-hime,” Kakashi greets, unruffled at her vaulting in through his window and landing on his counter in a perch.
This place is so depressing. She gets why her mom wants to put in some wallpaper or something so badly, but Kushina is still mad at Kakashi for weaseling out of their engagement, so she just grumbles and complains but won’t do anything about it.
“You’re proctoring the second part of the exam,” she says. The format of the exam is supposed to be secret, but it’s not like that’s ever stopped her from breaking into her father’s office. “I need you to rig the fight.”
He raises his eyebrow. Or maybe he’s raising both of them, but she can’t see under the headband. “That’s cheating.”
“Cheating’s allowed,” she counters. “I need you to make sure I face Gaara.”
He blinks slowly. Or winks. “Your father will kill me.”
“It’s supposed to be random,” she says. “How will he know?”
His silence takes on a decidedly guilty air.
“He told you to make sure I didn’t face him,” she guesses, not bothering to keep the bitterness out of her voice.
“He’s worried about you,” Kakashi says.
Too little too late as far as she’s concerned. As if his worry has ever done her any good. As if his worry has ever done anything but get in her way, just like it is right now. “Fine. Make sure he faces Sasuke then.”
“There are easier ways to get out of an engagement,” he says. “You don’t need to arrange to have him killed.”
Her eyes narrow and it takes everything in her not to growl. Growling is one of those things she’s not allowed to do because it’s too much of a tell. “I suppose you’re the expert on that.”
Kakashi doesn’t say anything. He’s spent her whole life not saying anything and it never gets less infuriating.
“Just do it,” she says. “What do you care anyway?”
Naruto is halfway out his window when he says, “I care,” and he can’t see her so she doesn’t bother to hold back her eyeroll.
That’s never done her any good either.
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abbyromanoff · 9 months
Note
I've got a request. Not really sure about the details, but I'm sure you could work that out, being the amazing writer that you are :)
It's a really vague idea, I guess, but something along the lines of wanda being a fallen angel who has sided with heaven, and Nat being a fallen angel who has sided with hell. They both fall for Fem! Reader and try to get them to support their respective sides
Let me know if this isn't something you're comfortable with writing. Thank you so much :)
YOUR DECISION
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PAIRINGS: Wanda Maximoff x reader, Natasha Romanoff x reader
WORD COUNT: 2,704
WARNINGS: R cheating (not really), making out, “bad boy” Nat, church girl!Wanda, self-homophobia, hidden relationships, Wanda cheating on vision, love affairs, love triangle, small sexual themes, think that’s all :)
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
“C’mon, can’t you stay the night just this once?” The redhead begged, holding your hand in order to keep you close. She tried pulling you closer to no avail as you started gathering your clothes.
“You know I can’t, Nat.” She groaned, flopping back on the bed and exposing part of her nude body. You bit your lip, forcing your gaze off of her before you did end up listening to her.
“My parents think I’m still at the library, they’ll be pissed if they find out I’m here.” Nat wasn’t known greatly around the area, mainly for her delinquent acts that got her into multiple jail cells. In your eyes, she was just misunderstood, nobody saw the side of her that you did. She was soft, a sweetheart who just wanted to find her person, but she already knew that person was you.
But then there was Wanda, the priest's daughter and your childhood best friend. You knew of her feelings for you, yet you tried to deny they existed. You liked her in more ways that you wish you did, but she wasn’t out yet, and she probably never would be. And she had a boyfriend, Vision. She didn’t seem to have a true interest in him, only one that she’d make up and exaggerate so someone would believe her when she said she loves him.
“Just tell them you’re sleeping over a friend’s. Tell them it’s Wanda, aren’t you guys like, I don’t know, best friends?” She pulled you down to sit on her lap, her hands holding you close by your waist. You smiled down at her and debated the option in your mind, was it worth the risk? Anything was worth it when it came to her, but you truly couldn’t stay.
“I wish I could, I do.” She pouted playfully, soon feeling your fingers turning her lips upward.
“Turn that frown upside down, I want to see you smile.” She gripped you just a bit tighter, hoping to keep you in her grasp forever.
“How am I supposed to be happy when you’re leaving me?” You rolled your eyes at her antics, slapping her shoulder with no real indication to cause pain. She threw an overplayed gasp your way in response.
“How about this, I go home tonight, but next weekend I’ll convince my parents to let me stay the night at a ‘friends’ house?” Your statement seemed to bring her slight joy as a grin made its way to her face. She leaned in to kiss you, muttering words between each one.
“As long as I have you, baby.” You got home with multiple different texts from two women: Wanda and Natasha. The redhead was telling you how much she missed you already and how she couldn’t wait to see you again while Wanda had been asking why you weren’t answering her calls. You sighed, running your fingers through your hair as you decided to ring the woman, hearing her voice on the other end of the line only seconds after.
“Where have you been?! I’ve been calling you for an hour!”
“Relax, I was at the library.” You could tell she didn’t believe you, you were best friends after all, she knew every lie you told.
“You know lying is a sin, Y/N.” She teased, and you could hear the sound of her clothes hitting the floor. She was most likely changing, yet you couldn’t help the less innocent thoughts from approaching.
“Were you with Nat again?” She knew of your unlabeled relationship with the troublemaker and openly expressed her hatred towards it. But you didn’t care to listen, too drunk on her love to think of anything else. You were first using her as a way to get over Wanda, but then you caught feelings. Nat made hers pretty obvious, she wanted something with you, a real relationship where she could hold your hand in public and kiss you whenever, but you were both waiting for the time to be right.
“I shouldn’t even ask at this point, you’re already always there.” You could sense the annoyance floating through her voice and groaned internally. You couldn’t deal with this right now, you just wanted to get home and relax. It was dark out and you continued to look each way in fear, your legs quickening in speed the colder you felt.
“Please don’t say that, you know it’s not true.” She ended the call after a small ‘whatever’ and it dawned on you just how frustrated she seemed. It wasn’t your fault she couldn’t come to terms with herself, you were just moving on. And if she didn’t want to accept that then she didn’t have to, but you were happy with Nat, even if you didn't exactly know what you two were, it still brought excitement whenever you’d see her or touch her. Her soft skin against yours just felt right, you didn’t have a word to explain it other than that, everything just seemed to make sense when you were with her.
Your parents were instantly questioning you once you got home, but you just shut them down with the fact that finals were headed your way. They seem to understand and let you go with a deep sigh, not fully believing your hidden lie.
You decided to finally check your phone after multiple unanswered texts made their way to your screen. A small smile seemed to form on your face when reading all that Nat had to say, you didn’t understand how she and her family were known as the ‘devil of the town’ when she was so loving. All she ever did was care for you, she had changed from her old ways and turned into something so amazing and kind, yet it was reserved only for you.
“Yes, Nat?” You dragged out, resting your phone on the bedside table as you started to rid yourself of your clothing. You grabbed the shirt she had given you a few weeks back, it was a bit large and you loved it. You then put on a pair of boxers and turned off your lights before laying down in bed, feeling all of your tense muscles start to ease.
“I missed you, baby.” You chuckled and earned a groan on the other end of the line.
“Don’t laugh at me, my bed is so cold without you.” The rest of your two hours were spent quietly giggling and talking with the redhead before you fell into a deep sleep, being unable to hear the words whispered out of Nat’s mouth. She was content, all she ever wanted was you, even if she used horrid ways of showing it in the past.
“Why do you look so tired?” Wanda asked you the next morning when taking notice of your eye bags and occasional yawns. You turned to look at her, removing your attention from the man on the podium and locking it onto her.
“Couldn’t sleep.” You whispered. You hated lying to the woman, but you knew it would just bring more vexation if you were to tell the truth. She could tell there was more, but she held back. There was no point in pushing if she’d receive nothing in return.
The next hour dragged on painfully long with Wanda’s worries only continuing. She just wanted your attention the way she used to, yet yours was on another. Nat wasn’t good for you but she was, she just didn’t seem to understand how deep your love for her went.
“Wanda, wait.” You called out after the ceremony, watching her grab her things as she was rushing to her car. She turned to look at you, urging you to go on the closer you got to her.
“Can I talk to you? Alone?” You were surrounded by no one, seeming as most parents and their children were forced to keep conversation with the other towns folk. She didn’t speak, only giving you a curt nod before opening the back door. She came with her parents just like she had done for her entire 19 years of living. It was just easier.
She signaled for you to get in and you did, following behind her as she smoothed out her dress on the seat.
“Mom and Dad should be out soon, they won’t mind if you come over.” Her parents loved you, even taking to ask where you had been ever since the distance between you and Wanda grew. You wanted to see the woman, but it seemed as though she didn’t want to see you.
“Hey, Y/N! We were wondering where you’ve been!” Her mother cheerfully pitched with a smile that you shared. A small conversation grew between the three of you, yet the daughter stayed silenced. Even when you arrived at your destination her mouth didn’t open. It wasn’t until she opened her bedroom door for you both that she finally spoke, it felt relaxing to finally hear her voice in person again. It felt like forever since you did, even if it was only a few minutes.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” She refused to look at you, knowing it would be too hard on her.
“I think you know, Wands.” The nickname brought a saddened smile to her face that quivered, it was one full of memories and lost time.
“I know you found out months ago about my feelings for you, but I didn’t think it would ruin our friendship.” You stalked behind her, noticing the nervous twitching of the rings on her fingers. You grabbed them, interlacing your hand with hers as she released a deep breath.
“I’m not mad at you for that.” You turned her around gently so she would face you, the soft features on her face bringing a longing that you wished to fill.
“Then what is it? Tell me what I did wrong so I can fix this, so I can fix us.” You wanted her to admit the feelings she had been harboring for so long, it had been gnawing at her for months, even before she knew of your shared love.
“Please, Wanda. I love you too much to lose you.” You begged, and it nearly brought tears to the woman’s eyes. The same eyes you found yourself often lost in, just admiring her beauty that you cherished greatly.
“I’m not mad at you for liking me, I’m upset because you never did anything.” She finally spoke so quietly that you almost didn’t hear her. Even with your knowledge of her growing crush, the words still sent shivers down your spine and caused your face to falter.
“I-“
“Please don’t say anything, this is already embarrassing enough.” For a split second, you worried over the possibility of her parents barging in, but it soon faded the closer you got to Wanda. She tried to scurry out of your hold, only to feel your arms on her waist, locking her in place.
“Look at me. Please look at me, sweetheart.” She couldn’t meet your eyes without taking notice of your lips that were nearly begging to be pecked. She wanted to be the one to do so, and knowing Nat was instead only caused more jealousy to rise to the surface. Her high school bully, the woman who tormented her every move and every step, the one who sent her crying into your arms was now the one holding you; how was that fair? Every aspect of her life was taken from none other than Natasha Romanoff, now she was stealing her one true love as well, and she couldn’t let that be. She couldn’t let you kiss her, hold her, make love to her without you knowing that she could be the replacement, that she had been aching to be yours since she met you.
She didn’t understand the thoughts at the time, but that all changed when she was allowed access to the internet. She was scared to search for the reasoning, afraid her parents might catch sighting and discipline her for her curiosity. Although, the results only brought more shame than her mother or father ever could, she liked you. And not the type most friends felt for one another, the type she was supposed to feel with a man yet felt for a woman.
“I’m sorry..”
“No, no, you don’t need to apologize. Come here.” You ushered her into a hug full of warmth, but fear was hidden beneath her barriers.
When she leaned back unwillingly, the only thing her vision could take notice of was your slightly parted lips that called her name.
“I don’t know why I feel this way, but is it bad to say I like it?” While it brought pain and sadness along with harsh reality, it felt comforting whenever she was with you. She wanted your love, but she wanted more than that. She wanted your heart, your attention, yet she felt selfish for wanting it.
“No, it’s completely normal. You can’t help who you feel, Wanda, and I would never shame you for that.” You brushed her hair behind her ear, sending a warm smile that did little to stop her. She couldn’t help it now.
Her lips had a mind of their own when they met with yours, and while you wanted nothing more than to give in and bathe in her presence, you knew you couldn’t. You leaned back, causing the woman to chase after you.
“Wanda, we can’t.”
“Why not?” She forced out rather loudly. She was the one to pull you close this time, hoping and praying that you’d listen to your heart instead of your mind, she could only hope your heart was beating for her.
“You have a boyfriend-“
“I don’t love him though, I’ve been planning to break up with him but I didn’t know how.” She argued, smiling slightly when she noticed your sight landing on her own chapstick-covered lips.
“What about Nat?”
“You two aren’t together officially, you’re allowed to speak to other people.” You both knew the lie in her words, but you were both so desperately trying to believe them.
“What if you regret it?”
“I never regret anything when I’m with you.” You paused in your tracks, letting her hand rest on your cheek as she checked the door one last time.
“This is wrong-“
“Then why does it feel so right?” You couldn’t stop your mouth from pressing against hers with hunger and desire. Your thumb drew circles against her side as the tension in her muscles lowered, her brain shutting down and her lips moving according to yours.
“I love you, Y/N.” She muttered against your lips before diving back in for more.
“I love you too, Wands.” You followed, letting the two of you sit on the bed as you forced yourself to let go and dwell in the comfort of your best friend.
Later that evening when you left the home, a smile planted on your face as you waved your goodbye’s to the family, sharing a small glance with the redhead before closing the door behind you, you were immediately hit with the guilt of your actions. Nat had been texting you, begging for you to visit her due to how badly she missed you. There were at least ten messages along with three missed calls, her fears only rising as she knew you’d never leave your phone unattended.
“I love you, my beautiful girl.” Read one of her texts, and it pained you to acknowledge the fact that she knew nothing of your shared activities with the other woman.
“I love you more, Nat.” You wrote back once easing her worries, but developing more of your own. You loved both women equally. Even if Natasha had a bad past, you still loved her. And even if Wanda refused to come to terms with herself, you still loved her. How could you ever face them again knowing the truth?
Wanda thought Nat was bad, but she had no idea that the person she just spent the entire afternoon with and most of her years fawning over was even worse.
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whateversawesome · 4 months
Text
Chapter 93: Stellas, Tonitrus and Another Desmond
First of all, congratulations to our girl for getting another stella (her first academic achievement stella too!) Good for you, Anya!!
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Anya also got a tonitrus bolt, but who cares about that 😆 Oh yeah, I know who does...
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Congratulations also to Twilight for not losing it. Good for you, Twilight...you're learning how to be a good dad. Hey, did you notice he didn't even try to look at the results before time?
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Look at that baby's face 💕 Positive reinforcement and encouragement work wonders! Still, I hope one day, Anya realizes her papa loves her no matter what.
It was one hell of a chapter, don't you think?
Let me get this out of the way: the more I know the people around Donovan Desmond, the less I like him. Even though we know very little about this man, it looks like his relationship with his family has destabilized his wife and son's mental health and general wellbeing.
So, here are my thoughts:
Demetrius
He looks like a kid who was pushed too hard to study and was taught nothing else. Yeah, he may be a stella-earning machine, but he lacks a balance, like the ability to communicate and understand other people. If anything, he seemed overwhelmed by a simple interaction with a some kids.
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I'm guessing his classmates see him like an unapproachable person and he is probably a loner. He doesn't seem close to his brother either and I'm going to guess he's not close to Melinda. I suspect his dad "took him under his wing" since he was very young and made him that way.
Why couldn't Anya read his thoughts?
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At the moment, I don't think he was experimented on. In my opinion, this boy's only thoughts are about studying, earning stellas, and not being able to understand people. All courtesy of...
Donovan Desmond
It looks like Donovan did spend a lot of time with Demetrius when he was young. The purpose is still not very clear to me, but this looks fishy. Either he sincerely wanted his son to do well in school or there was a reason Donovan Desmond wanted to be inside those imperial scholar social gatherings.
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My gut tells me it's the second option. Why?...
I believe Donovan was Prime Minister or close to being Prime Minister back then. Why would a busy politician like him spend his time making sure his son did well in school? Something doesn't add up.
In the present, Donovan is basically a recluse and the only events he attends are those imperial scholar gatherings. If Desmond was a good dad, it would be understandable for him to support his son, even if he didn't participate in politics anymore. But that's the thing; Donovan Desmond is not a good, supportive dad. Demetrius said it himself: his dad is not in contact with him. Meaning, there must be an ulterior motive for him to attend to those social gatherings.
My guess is that he used his son. And since he already has access to those meetings, he doesn't need to communicate with his eldest son anymore or to have a relationship with his youngest either.
Talking about the youngest Desmond...
Damian
Damian and Anya had a rocky start, but as the story advances, it's obvious Damian is a sweet boy, who seems so...abandoned.
Damian is the kind of kid who thinks he has to earn his parents' love (especially his dad's). That's horrible. That love should be unconditional.
However, after meeting Melinda and now Demetrius, I can confidently say he's better off at school. Because of this, I'm thinking that it was Melinda the one who insisted on Damian staying at Eden.
Damian probably thought that in order for his dad to spend time with him, he needed to be like his brother, meaning a stella-earning machine. That's why those stellas are so important to him. And let me say that it's remarkable that Damian is earning stellas without any help from his parents or anyone else (like Demetrius in the past and Anya in the present.)
Now I see that part of his character arc could be for him to realize he doesn't have to be like his brother and he doesn't need his father's approval either.
Can you see the difference his friends make in Damian's life? His friends, including Anya, are helping become a different person than his brother. They're helping him realize he doesn't have to behave "like a Desmond" only, that it's okay to behave like a kid too.
Maybe that's why his mom wants him to be friends with Anya. She's a good influence on him.
It will be interesting to see if Damian's relationship with Demetrius changes over time. I would like to see that because Damian craves a relationship with his family. In my opinion, Melinda does love his youngest son (we don't know how she feels about Demetrius), but there's a reason why she won't go near him. At some point, we'll find out that reason.
Twilight and Anya
Just like Desmond, Twilight needs to get into those imperial scholar gatherings. That's why Anya needs to get those stellas. We could argue he's also using Anya like Donovan used Demetrius, but there are a few key differences:
1.Anya knows and is helping him willingly, because she knows her papa's purpose: to keep peace (and make a world where children don't have to cry).
2.The way Twilight encourages Anya earn those stellas. Yes, he makes her study (helps her too), like any parent would, but he also lets Anya be herself! Twilight wants Anya to have a balanced life, to have friends, to have fun, to play, to watch TV, to go on outings and even travel as a family.
He's not forcing her to study 24/7 so she turns into a stella-earning machine, because he knows there's more to life than stellas and good grades and because he wants the best for his child, over his mission (even when he's not ready to admit that).
3.This whole thing is transforming him. Unlike Desmond, Twilight is becoming more human. He no longer serves his own purpose (even if that purpose is for peace). Now, he's a father and has to put his daughter's wellbeing first.
Do you need proof?
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Here, Twilight asked the question we've all been dying to ask.
As a spy, he would have pushed his daughter to remember her past so she would answer the question. But instead...
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He realized those memories could be painful and didn't want his daughter to think about that, so he just tells her to forget about it...Why? Because Anya's past doesn't matter. Even when it could be advantageous for his mission, he chooses to let it go for his daughter's sake and because she already has a family with Yor, Bond, and him.
Donovan and Damian
I wonder if at some point Donovan Desmond will try to use Damian for his own purpose. If that happens, I'm sure Damian won't turn his dad down, he'll be happy his father finally acknowledges him and will be happy to spend time with him.
My gut has been screaming that Damian and Donovan are a foil of [Redacted] and his dad. And not only that...Remember when that awful man made Anya cry during the Eden Interview and Twilight lost it? I suspect the relationship between Damian and Donovan Desmond could be a big trigger for Mr. Spy.
Since most of the characters in SxF are morally gray, I suspect Donovan Desmond will be the same. Maybe he'll turn out to be a good leader who wants the best for his country and wants to prevent the war, but at the same time is an abusive husband and father.
Would Twilight be okay with that now that he is a father and a husband himself?
At some point, Twilight will probably have to choose between his family and his mission and Donovan Desmond is his mission...🤔
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marciaillust · 27 days
Note
How long does it take for you to finish drawing?
I'm an artist (beginner) and i unconsciously set unrealistic goals for myself and need a reminder of how long it takes to complete a drawing, Thanks.
Hi! In the context you presented it in, that is a really interesting question, so I'll try to approach it thoroughly. I hope I won't make you roll your eyes too much.
Where to start, where to start... I guess the first thing I should say is that there is a difference between time I spend preforming the action of <drawing>, and the time I spent <working> on a particular piece. The first would be counted in hours, the second one - days. I'm a big believer in slowing things down, and giving things time - going through options, gathering research and references, taking breaks every 1h of sitting and drawing - and seeing things through until I achieve the goal I set at the beginning of the process.
The goals are usually different each time: "quick design", "character exploration", "analysis of an artist's linework and experimenting with the knowledge gained", "creating an aesthetically pleasing image", and so on and so forth. Of course I don't write these down like it's a school assignment, but knowing in the back of my head what I'm actually doing helps me manage my expectations. I also enjoy being conscious of why I create - when I was younger regardless of what I was doing I had the thought "AND IT MUST LOOK GOOD AND PRESENTABLE! BECAUSE PEOPLE WILL LOOK!" ...and I think that obsession is the cancer of creative process.
Since the goals for each picture are different, the time I'll spent on achieving each one will be different as well, because the "satisfactory results" lay in different places. For example, the Marcile sketchpage was created in one afternoon, and took approximately 3 hours. The goal was to play around with a brush that has no opacity forcing my lines to be more decisive. I did that and so it is "finished". There's nothing else I want from it.
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On the other hand, the cover of Asterism took about 10 days to create, the goal of which was to make "an aesthetically pleasing cover picture taking colour inspiration from the works of (specific list of artists)". I took my time designing it so that it looks aesthetically pleasing, made sure the anatomy is "correct" (a nebulous statement when it comes to stylised humans), took my time masking, and picking colours, and shading. I wanted it to "look good" to my own eyes so if something was not working I would go back, change it, alter it, move it around... that's the wonderful thing about personal art, you can take as long as you like making something satisfactory.
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The funny thing is, with what the Asterism cover actually is (a cellshaded image), it could have been done probably in 4 days by the me 4 years ago. But that person was willing to sit 8-10 hours a day to draw with no breaks, she had little social life, and treated herself as a little circus seal performing tricks so that people clap around her, and the clapping was soooo nice because it meant that people remembered her and she mattered. And it worked for her! For long 10 years! Until her arm gave out, and the reality of never being able to draw again became more tangible than ever, and it's been following her like a fog ever since for the past 4 years. The me today works about 4 hours a day and every hour I take about a 30 minute break. I also don't post half the stuff I draw. There is also another aspect that dictates the speed of creating and that is familiarity with the subject matter. The less you know something, the fast you'll draw it! But as you get to know the intricacies of the process, and see all the building blocks, it will start taking *longer* because you will start accounting for every block. But then you'll eventually get familiar with the blocks and so the time spent on a picture will go down again! The cool yet overwhelming thing about art is that, there are always hundreds of building blocks. Form, composition, ambient occlusion, saturation, hue, light balance, line form...... and those are just the *some* of the generalised *categories*. And each category will have it's own subsection of building blocks! And then those blocks will interact with each other to create completely new area of expertise! This is crazy! Marcille sketch page took me only 3 hours to create because I am already quite familiar with linework - I have drawn 3-4 comicbooks worth of linework. This also means I am familiar with believable anatomy, more or less, which got utilised in the Asterism cover - the main bulk of linework got created during a 3h livestream. So.... what's the answer.... "It's all relative" is so unsatisfactory and probably not what you looked for. But you can draw something in 3 days and kill your body over it. Or you can become an expert in a field and dish the same picture out effortlessly in 8 hours. You can also split that 8h block over multiple days bringing you back up to 3 days. You could even add a whole day of visual research which might make your picture only marginally better. And even if we calculate it in terms of raw working time, pen-to-paper, like a self-inflicted capitalist tumor, that time can fluctuate still due to personal visual library and knowledge base. If I asked Tom Fox how long it takes for him to create his sketch pages his answer would probably be downward of 30 minutes. Yet I need whole 3 hours to create something *less* anatomically correct than him. And so here we are at the end of this perhaps unnecessary essay. And all we learned is this: it depends. Dry, not nuanced tl;dr, my personal timings: single sketch - 30mins; single linework pic 1-2h; Cellshaded illust - 16h; Rendered illust: 20-25h.
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marsmarbles · 3 months
Text
I hope you guys don’t mind more writing ‘cause I want to do it more often. This was meant to be a request for Gem and Skizz interacting, but I accidentally posted my work in progress instead of saving it as a draft lol. So uhhh sorry. Imma try something new and sprinkle in some art to go along with the story(since I’m assuming you guys wanna see that more than writing)
What Makes Me So Special?
Word count: 900
It was late morning when Skizz entered the detective’s base living room looking down in the dumps. Gem was sitting on the couch to Skizz’s left, which was more of a wooden bench. There wasn’t a lot of options for furniture. It was either a rock couch or a wooden couch, and Skizz knew Grian and Gem wouldn’t let a rock couch in their living room slide.
Gem was wiping down her brand new diamond sword with a white cloth(which won’t ever be white again, probably), which she had just taken for a test drive overnight. It was stained with monster guts and dark, almost brownish purple zombie blood. It was truly disgusting, but Gem seemed unbothered, letting it seep into her long, pleated skirt as she held her cyan blade on her lap.
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Gem didn’t even have to look up to examine Skizz’s expression, she knew something was wrong. No way in the whole Minecraft multiverse would Skizz walk into a room without so much as a hi.
Skizz plopped down next to her on the couch with a long winded sigh and a grunt as his bottom made impact with the thick wood of the couch. He continued to sigh and readjust his sitting position like he had forgotten how to sit correctly, bobbing his eyes back in forth, trying to catch Gem’s eye. He wanted to talk about something that was bothering him, but for some reason he wanted Gem to strike up the conversation. Then, he began whistling, which could be seen as a death sentence. As skilled as a fighter Gem was, she’s wasn’t afraid to give her friends a good whack if they annoyed her.
Instead, Gem compacted herself like a shrimp to put her face closer to her sword, pointlessly scrubbing more violently in one spot, which was very much clean by now. Her eye twitched in annoyance to the sound of Skizz’s airy, ear piercing whistle. Don’t get her wrong, she loved Skizz, but she had just pulled an all nighter fighting monsters and really didn’t have the energy to deal with anyone right now. She had the eye bags and unkept hair to show for it.
After tolerating Skizz for a good long while(and being on the verge of stabbing him), Gem finally gave in. “What’s wrong, Skizz?” Gem groaned.
“GEMSTONE!!” Skizz shouted a little too loud. He had been holding in his words for what felt like forever. He most definitely looked constipated. “Y’know how I really like Impulse??”
“Yeah…?” Gem replied, raising an eyebrow as if to say ‘and?’. What was new? She’s heard this story a bagillion times. Skizz really likes Impulse. Skizz pretty much told her every second of every day. Or at least he’s brought it up enough for Gem to give up on counting.
“Well….” Skizz hesitated. He actually seemed serious for once. Or was it sad? Maybe it was the tone in his voice. “I guess I feel kinda lame ‘round him, y’know. He’s just so smart and cool and I genuinely love to be around the guy. He’s special y’know….Special to me…..I just don’t feel special….I can’t build a house without it looking ugly. I can’t make a red stone thingy-ma-jig and have it work. And I can’t even fight good. I can’t even muster up the courage to tell him how I feel about him…” Skizz took a shaky breath. He sniffled, tilted his head up, and blinked a lot, trying to suck back the tears attempting to escape his eyes.
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He continued. “How can I possibly believe that he loves me too…..what makes me so special?…..I guess….I’m just scared he’s faking cuz he pities me.” He huffed and gripped his pant legs, trying to fight back the tears. It would usually kill a ‘real’ man to be this open.
“Skizz….” Gem’s expression shifted to concern. Now she felt horrible for trying to ignore him. No wonder Skizz was so abnormally hesitant to speak with her, he was trying to talk about feelings of inadequacy. She stared at the floor in contemplation, then drew a long breath, readying her advice. “Well, if I know Impulse(which I do) he loves you just as much.” Gem gave Skizz a small but comforting smile. “And if I know Impulse(which, again, I do) he thinks you’re special….very special.” Gem gave Skizz a nudge in the shoulder.
“But how do you know-“ Skizz attempted to retort.
“Impulse is smart, right?” Gem finished.
Skizz felt his face heat up. His halo, which floated just above his head, began to rotate slowly. He broke eye contact with Gem out of embarrassment, who continued to smile at him.
Gem shoved Skizz off the wooden couch bench, trying to break the awkward silence. “NOW GO GET THAT MAN! He’s waiting for you, Skizz! I assure you !” She projected reassuringly. Skizz was just able to catch himself. “Uhhh- YEAH!!” Skizz shuffled out of his awkward landing position and struck a triumphant pose. He turned back to Gem. “Thanks, Gemstone!! This little chat really helped me out! And it was kinda neat to let my feelings out. Imma go find Impulse!!! Seeya!!” Skizz ran off and out the door with his confidence restored. Gem let herself fall back into her seat on the couch, smiling proudly to herself for a job well done. She shed a tear of joy at the thought:
I’m going to have two dads!
96 notes · View notes
static-symphony-fm · 1 month
Text
you are in love (true love)
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now playing: you are in love (taylor's version)
pairing: magnus chase x fem! reader
word count: 1.9k
summary: 5 people who knew magnus was in love with you before you did + 1 sword
an: FIRST FANFIC LETS FUCKING GOOOOO this took so long to write! I love how I accidentally made it blue themed even though that's magnus's least favorite colour 😭 its ok we all know he's canonically a 1989 girly
fun fact i actually took the first picture! i shit you not I was on a road trip with my family READING MAGNUS CHASE and I look up and see THAT SIGN and i SCRAMBLED to take a picture
content/ warnings: 5+1 things, background blitzstone bcs c'mon they're basically canon, shitty writing, kissing ooo spooky, magnus being a simp, there actually isn't a whole lot of reader in this x reader fic, minor allusions to sex stuff, a lot of swearing, weird use of perspective, i was trying to go for third person limited but magnus is the one it's limited to not reader? but reader is referred to using second person? sorry if it's confusing.
1. samirah al-abbas
  if someone had told magnus a year ago that in a couple month’s time, meeting for coffee weekly with one of his best friends and not getting kicked out of the overpriced coffee shop was going to be the most normal thing in his life, he wouldn’t have believed them. probably would have flipped them off, too, and stole their wallet as he walked away. but he’d like to think that he was a changed man, seeing as he was, in fact, in a hipster café in boston, trying not to make fun of all the fancy menu options. like, seriously? who orders a dragon fruit, pomegranate, and kale smoothie?
he realized he’d been thinking for too long and returned his attention to samirah, sitting across from him and discussing wedding plans for her upcoming marriage to amir as she sipped her latte. he noticed the way her eyes seemed to get brighter, and her entire body language conveyed how excited she was as she talked about him. magnus had a fleeting thought about how good it must feel to love someone so unconditionally like that, and have them love you back just as much. 
as if reading his mind, samirah finished her sentence and studied him, tilting her head as she seemed lost in thought, peering at him like he was a calculus problem she couldn’t quite figure out. 
after a few seconds, magnus broke the silence. 
“alright, it’s getting weird. why’re you looking at me like that?”
samirah snapped out of it, focusing on what he was saying.
“nothing, just… do you think you’ll ever get married?”
jeez, that was a loaded question. magnus narrowly avoided choking on his black coffee, swallowing and burning his throat before answering.
 “sam, i’m dead.”
“so? people get married in valhalla all the time. i have been to a very disproportionate amount of weddings in the two years i worked there.”
“yeah? how many of those end in divorce?”
samirah took a long drink of her coffee, swallowing it slowly as she responded.
“forever is a very long time, and no relationship is perfect, but wouldn’t it be better to have someone to spend that time with?”
“…i guess.” magnus accepted, lost in thought. truthfully, samirah was right, like always. if circumstances were different, if he hadn’t died at sixteen, he could imagine himself getting married. settling down. living in a cabin in the forest with two kids. 
a thought came into his mind, entirely of its own accord, of doing all of that with you. your laugh, your soft hair, the way your lips curled up and your eyes widened when you smile. you’d probably be a great mom.
whoa, what the hell? he should definitely not be thinking about getting married to his friend, what the fuck? that is not normal. 
he pushed the weird thought out of his mind as best he could, gulping his coffee and focusing on the burning in his throat and not what he was just thinking. samirah had gone back to talking about amir, and magnus was not going to think about marrying you any longer.
2. alex fierro
after nearly getting his head cut off by alex’s garrote for the third time that day, magnus needed a break. alex had decided that magnus needed to learn to fight without the help of jack, and it wasn't going too well for him. he collapsed on the bench next to alex, chugging half a bottle of water before even taking a breath. alex rolled her eyes. 
“it’s not that hard, you just aren’t fast enough.”
magnus managed to control himself and not say a snarky comment back, but it was a close call. instead, he ignored her, staring straight ahead and not engaging. unfortunately, you were in his direct line of sight, sparring with mallory only a few metres away. alex picked up on this quickly, nudging his side. 
“you like watching y/n fight, huh?” she teased, smirking. damn, why did she have to be so perceptive?
“what? no. shut up.” magnus replied quickly, trying to hide his blush. “i mean… she’s a good fighter. not like i like her or anything like that.” 
“mhm. suuuure you don’t.” alex replied, definitely not believing him. fuck.
“i’m telling the truth!” magnus protested. god, how was arguing with alex harder than physically fighting her? 
“yeah. did you see her necklace today? pretty, right?”
“she’s not even wearing a neck- fuck.” magnus said instantly, before catching himself. 
“go to hell.”  he swore, glaring at alex, who was grinning at him in a way that reminded him a little too much of her mother. 
“you first.”
      3 + 4. blitzen & hearthstone
“magnus? magnus?”
a pale hand reached in front of magnus face, waving and then snapping its fingers, bringing him back to reality. he blinked and looked around at hearth and blitz, sitting across from him in the dining room of the chase space. hearth took his hand back to sign finally, raising his eyebrows sarcastically.
“your head’s way up in the clouds, kid.” blitz remarked, drumming his short, well manicured fingernails on the table, his silver engagement ring glinting.  he was right. magnus definitely was pretty out of it lately. 
probably thinking about y/n, hearth signed. jeez, why did every conversation he had have to be about you? and no, he most certainly was not thinking about you and your pretty eyes and your delicate hands and the way your ass looked in those jeans you were wearing yesterday… jesus fucking christ, he needed to stop.
 he buried his face in his hands and groaned loudly, then raised his head back up so hearth could read his lips, hoping that his blush wasn’t as visible as it felt. 
“i am not thinking about her.” he lied through his teeth. 
“there’s nothing wrong with having a crush, you know.”
ugh, why did they have to act so much like his dads? 
“i don’t have a crush!”
“kid, you’re a terrible liar. everyone can see the way you stare at that girl. now remember, if you’re doing anything intimate, you gotta use protection…”
that’s it. magnus couldn’t stand up from the table fast enough
 “nope! this conversation is ending right now. good talk!”
5. annabeth chase
magnus and annabeth had been walking around new york for the past three hours, trying to make up for the ten years spent apart.  annabeth had shown him her favorite library, and pointed out a bunch of cool architecture in nearby buildings, with a promise to show him and his friends camp half-blood in the summer.
 they were currently taking a break, stopping for lunch at a falafel place that wasn’t quite as good as fadlan’s, but it was still falafel. magnus was enjoying listening to annabeth talk about her architecture projects– she was taking online classes to prepare for the higher level of new rome university’s program. 
magnus loved listening to her talk about things he didn’t understand. as a child he’d always thought she was a genius, the way she always solved puzzles and math problems easily. ten years later, that theory still held up, hearing her go on about a bunch of terms he didn’t understand.
“sorry, i’m probably boring you to tears. you wanna talk about something else?”
annabeth offered.
“no, it’s fine… i really don’t have a lot going on.” magnus replied, smiling politely.
“come on. there’s gotta be something interesting.” an idea seemed to come to annabeth.
“you have a crush on anybody?”
magnus swallowed. 
“no.”
but he was too slow. those steel gray eyes that matched his own were locked on him like a hawk, or maybe an owl. 
“yes, you do. come on. spill!”
magnus stayed silent. he was not telling his cousin about his crushes, but those metallic eyes stayed locked on him. he eventually gave up. annabeth could be scary when she wanted to be.
“fine. fine. her name’s y/n…”
+1. jack
 it was movie night at the chase space. was magnus ever gonna stop calling it that? no. it was cool. shut up. the credits were rolling on some disney movie that alex had insisted on, and everyone else was slowly but surely making their way to their rooms, yawning as they said their good nights. you had been sitting next to magnus on the couch the whole time, and suffice it to say that he had had some trouble concentrating on the film.  
it was just you and him, you in your nirvana t-shirt and gray sweat shorts, and in that moment, he decided to tell you.
 you got up to leave, waving at him, and in a feat of bravery so incredible it would be studied by historians for centuries to come, magnus managed to work up the nerve to speak up. 
“hey, uh, can i talk to you for a sec?”
“sure? what’s up?” you asked as you sat back down.
jesus, what had he gotten himself into? it’s ok, magnus, you got this. you beat loki in a flyting. you can talk to a pretty girl. 
“uh, i was just thinking… i just…” off to a great start, aren’t we? fuck off, voice in his head. he can do this. he took a deep breath.
“i really like you. you're gorgeous and funny and so insanely smart. i’m an atheist but i’m praying to god you feel the same way. will you be my girlfriend?”
you bit your lip, breaking eye contact as you looked off into the distance. fuck. you were gonna say no and then he was never gonna be able to talk to you again and he was gonna have to change his name and move to canada…
“can i kiss you?” 
what.
there were a million things magnus expected you to say, but that was none of them. he managed to stutter out a simple “please…” and then you leaned forward and your lips were on his and magnus chase died.
this felt more like the end of his life than being knocked off a burning bridge and drowning did. his heart was beating a million times a second, and he seemed to have forgotten how breathing worked. your lips were softer than anything he’d ever felt before.
 he managed to reciprocate a little, mostly acting on instinct, and all he could think about was how astronomically better this was than jackie molotov in the seventh grade.
what was he supposed to do with his hands? he was pretty sure that keeping them at his side was the wrong answer, so he moved one to your waist and the other one to the back of your neck, tangling it gently in your soft hair as his lips moved against yours.
gods, he could have stayed like that until ragnarök, but his stupid sword had to ruin the moment. jack started buzzing on his neck sleepily, seeming to have been woken up ungraciously. he hoped that you couldn’t feel it, but that was pretty unlikely, considering how close you were to him. jeez, he was blushing more and more every time he thought about that. 
eventually, you pulled away, smiling a little. 
“good night, magnus.”
he nodded, unable to form words, and managed to stand up and walk back to his room, wide eyed, operating on autopilot. he walked into his room and immediately collapsed backwards onto the bed, staring at the ceiling without blinking, completely still. not a thought passed through his mind for at least ten minutes, till he finally was able to reach up and pull jack’s pendant off of his necklace.
“dude, what happened to blades before babes!?!”
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jakeyt · 2 months
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Covet: Chapter 11 (Sneak Peek)
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a/n: this is only half of what this scene is in chapter 11... buuuut, this is a scene that has been imagined for a hot damn second... and i kind of went crazy with it when it came time to write it. soooo, here's a (long ass) sneak peek of the scene that's been planned as a reunion of sorts for our two (angsty) romantics <3
i hope it's enough to tide you over until chapter 11 drops. and, ohhhh friends.... chapter 11..... it's a doozy (that includes something that many have been itching for... what could it be?)
buuut, until then, here is your little taste (🤭) of chapter 11!!
Warnings: smut (18+ MINORS DNI); oral (f! receiving); pregnancy; insecurities; anxiety; slight jealousy, i guess?; pregnancy hormones out the wah-zoo lmao (emotions, libido, etc)
-🌼🌼🌼-
“Oh, so you didn’t get it out of your system with Maya that night?” You clipped, not ready to just ignore the fact that you’d had to suffer through that shit. How damn livid you’d been. 
“I was angry, and she was there for me,” he explained, before sighing deeply. You could imagine he was shaking his head with the action. “But I was thinking of you. You and your beautiful fucking body that’s growing my kid.”
God. You felt your core flex and continue to drip with arousal at his words. You were not in the mood to be the one in the right anymore. You didn’t want to be smart about your choices. . . you wanted his mouth on you and you wanted to let him do whatever the fuck he had in mind. 
It would be one time. 
And. . . .  it would technically be him helping you to benefit the baby. . . the less stressed you were, the less stress the baby felt. And God only knew how fuckin’ stressed you were lately. 
And there was only one way–one person–you wanted to relieve that right now. 
Fuck morality. 
“Who’s to say you’ll want me when you actually see me like this?” You genuinely wondered. 
You couldn’t believe you were actually giving this fucking idea any substance. There really was no way it could end well. 
But your thoughts just kept trailing to how it could end well. . . very well. . . With you moaning his name as you finished against his tongue or around his cock . . .just for tonight. And, dirty as it would be to her, technically Maya did tell him to help with whatever you needed, so it wasn’t entirely against her wishes. 
Although, you were one thousand percent sure this was not what she meant. . . . at all.
“Try me,” he challenged, voice rasping with the two daring words.
You were in no place to turn him down for such a thing. Your body was in no place to deny his help much longer. So, with wobbly legs and weak knees, you stood up. Your ass tingled, hurting just a bit and you were trying so hard to not somehow slip on any water on the shower floor. You decided to lean against the opposite wall, holding on to the plastic bar built into the middle of the longer wall, adjacent to him. 
It was clicking that he was about to see your naked body in a way he’d never seen it before. . . you needed to make sure you looked as good as you could with puffy eyes from crying and a red face from the heat of the shower.
So, you did what you could and bent one wet leg at the knee, thankfully feeling silky smooth from your shave. You worked to accentuate your curves, in a body that didn’t always feel like your own anymore. You wanted to cross your arms over your chest, but knew the pressure would hurt like a bitch if you did that. The other option was tucking them behind your back, so that was what you did, holding the plastic bar in the wall with both hands, pushing your chest up a bit with the action. 
You couldn’t conceal the whine that slipped from your lips when you crossed your thighs, pushing them together, adding a little bit of pressure where you needed it so badly. 
But, no matter how much your body felt literally pulled to him, you couldn’t help asking. . . “Are you sure about this?”
“Um, yes,” he said, no doubt in his tone at all. Though, after he said it, he paused, ready to await your words. “. . .Are you?”
Guilt was what you should’ve felt in this moment. But, right then and there, guilt was as far out of the window as it could’ve possibly been. This felt real. Natural. Nowhere near wrong any longer – only right. So fucking right. 
So, if he thought it was okay, so did you. 
“Yes,” you breathed, whining on the word without warning, your legs having rubbed together once more. Your swollen chest was heavy with each breath you took, waiting for him. 
“Let me see you,” he beckoned. 
Needing the curtains gone from between you, but scared to move and end up falling, you huffed, snorting a bit at the thought of falling again. Pregnancy and POTs were not a good combination for a clumsy-ass like yourself. 
“I’m afraid I’ll land on my fuckin’ ass if I move,” you explained, a little giggle following the words. “Um, c-can you–?”
And before you could even finish the request, the thin barrier between you suddenly vanished and. . . standing before your naked, wet body. . . was him. 
Your eyes didn’t instantly find his face, suddenly shy in front of the man who’d seen you naked so many times before. So, you focused fully on his body. He was still fully clothed, but completely there, right in front of you. 
And, from what you could tell from the outline of his dick in his dark jeans, he was definitely wanting you. He wanted to help in this special way. . .
“Oh my god,” he rasped, so low in his throat. 
Instantly, you snapped your glance from where you’d been eyeing his body to see his face. He was staring at your legs, which still looked as they had before the baby, for the most part.
But, very slowly, his eyes trailed from your legs, all the way to your midsection – a part of you that had definitely changed. Round as could be at 17 weeks along, his expression became primal; his stare, so hungry for what his eyes were feasting on that you felt it with every harsh beat of your heart.
You felt extremely vulnerable in his presence, under his gaze. Felt weak at the sound of his voice. The way you were bared completely to him, and him liking what he saw. . . made the blood in your veins red hot. 
The blush crept up on every part of you – your cheeks and chest, burning. You felt yourself becoming restless for him, your heart beating so quick you felt almost nauseous at the way his eyes had darkened. His lips stayed pursed as his jaw flexed. You felt your chest react further, as your nipples peaked at his nearness. As if sensing it, his eyes moved to watch your fuller chest, your breathing hitching on each breath. 
Time was moving in slow motion. 
And the way he bit his lip, as he finally locked his dark eyes with yours, would forever be etched in your memory.
“Holy fuck,” he breathed. “You are so—.”
The heavy beat of your heart was lodged in your throat, your breath catching. “Kiss me, Jake.”
And without question, he was stepping over the ledge of the bathtub, still fully clothed, until his boots were sloshing in the shallow puddle of water that swooshed to the drain. His hands found your body soon, chilly against your heated skin. He held your waist the best he could with the new addition of the baby bump, but still managed to hold you in such a way that you felt like he was in charge. The way he held you reminded you that you were nothing more than putty in his strong hands. 
He started leaning in, his grip on you, so firm, steady, sure. . . . 
The last time you’d seen him so close to you had been far too long ago. The night in the kitchen when you’d spilt the water, it had been too dark – and you’d been turned away from him. But, you were not turned away right now. Quite the opposite. 
No, right now, you could see every detail of his plush, pink lips as he leaned in further to you. Your heart fluttered in your chest. 
You were ready to feel his lips on yours. 
He was close enough for you to see the stubble coming in above his lip. Though, suddenly, his hands dropped from around your waist and his eyebrows dipped as he started backing away.
No no no no no please –.
“I–I can’t–,” he shook his head, now drenched from the spray of the shower. You followed his action, backing up, too, your eyes looking over his body as he stood before you, unmoving. Just far enough away to not touch each other. 
He wasn’t getting out completely, but he’d distanced himself.
Was he already regretting this? God, your heart started to split in your chest. . . you’d opened yourself completely up, only for him to decide against this – against you.
“Do you not want me?” You asked, voice mixed with hesitation and hurt. Your line of sight landed on your own feet, refusing to look at him. “Because, fuck, Jake – I told you! I told you we shouldn’t have– but now you have me fucking shaking and — goddammit, Jacob! It’s not fair for you to get me to admit those things and then bail as soon as you–!”
“Y/n,” he growled your name, commanding your eyes to land on his. His stare was no different than before. The irritation was flaring, again, though. Just a bit. You could tell. He stepped closer by one step. “I’m not going to fucking bail. I told you I wanted to please you and I plan on keeping my damn promise. I want to taste you so badly. . . I just– ugh.”
Your pulse was pounding in your ears, your chest hot and your heat clenching at nothing. . . You didn’t know how to respond. 
You continued to buzz with anticipation that wouldn’t dissipate in the dense, humid air of the shower. Doing the only thing you could do, you decided to admire what was in front of you. 
His shirt was opened to the middle of his abdomen on what you knew to be a chilly December evening, daring him to catch a damn cold. 
But. . . the sight made you anything but cold–no, seeing his perfectly toned chest heaving and soaking wet. . . it made your entire body flame. His shirt was light blue, the water soaking through the material to make it nearly transparent. It gave you a glimpse at everything beneath his shirt. . . You saw his toned pecs that you needed to put your hands on again. You needed to feel the smooth skin of his chest–with your hands, tongue. . . anything. 
Needed to feel him. 
So, you did what your body told you to do at that moment. 
Taking one wary step forward, you reached your hand out slowly, letting him stop you if he needed to. But, he didn’t stop you. When you glanced up at his face to read his reaction, he was watching your hand move, mouth agape at the action. You could feel his warm breath on your cheek as you took one more step towards him. Without any more thought, you placed your delicate hand on the exposed part of his tanned chest. And, daring to feel more, you slid your palm underneath his button-down shirt to feel one of his toned pecs.
His breath caught at the motion. 
It felt like home to be touching him like this again.
His chest flexed under your hand with the sharp intake of breath. Your breath was choppy, too, not daring to breathe too harshly to scare him away. This moment felt so eerily similar to a moment so long ago – that damn game night. The moment you’d been dared by a stupid ass card game to touch him.
But this time–this time felt worlds different. 
There was history–a baby–between the two people in this moment of time and you knew how to read his body. 
So, it was no surprise to you when he took a step forward, nearly meeting the front of your body with his. You knew it was going to happen before it did; you knew that his hand would reach up to touch your chest as well. 
You watched his hand as he followed through. Though, he didn’t touch your breast like you expected. No, he balanced his hand right above your heart, where it beat furiously for him. 
“Jake,” you begged, his name saying everything you couldn’t say. Your thighs rubbed together of their own accord, desperate. “Please.”
And there it was. His hand immediately went to hold your full, sore breast. It was like a weight was lifted off your chest, literally. You were finding that the only relief your chest could find was from his touch. 
Your legs continued to work at creating friction with every movement of his gentle massage on your breast. The way your chest heaved, nipple so sensitive and taut beneath his palm, your body was pleading for more. Still. You needed more. His hand moved away from the nipple and he held the underside of your left breast.
“Jake,” you were whining, outright. It was pitiful as hell. But – you couldn’t give two flying fucks. 
“I–I can’t kiss your lips,” he explained, voice gravelly and low above you, floating directly to your ear. You looked up, waiting for him to continue. There was more he wanted to say, it was obvious. “That’s–I have to keep something that is unique and sacred to my relationship. Does that make sense?”
“Yes.” It did. It made complete sense and you admired his feeble attempt at saving something for her. . . but, you couldn’t help that it cracked your heart the slightest bit that you weren’t able to feel his lips against yours. 
The tears were welling in your eyes all on their own–couldn’t stop them if you tried. Although, you couldn’t tell if they were from baby hormones or an honest result of the new crease left in your heart at him so obviously not being yours. 
He belonged to her – not to you. And the lack of kissing was a painful, blatant reminder of that.
Kissing him had been something so normal and familiar only a few months ago, you could have kissed him any time you wanted (well, almost any time. . . but still). And . . . you’d given that up. 
Given him up. 
So what could he do?
“What can you do?” Your voice broke with the wetness in your throat, a tear stupidly trickled down your face. 
His grip on your breast stayed firm, his hand kneading the supple flesh just right. “You okay, honey?” He asked, meeting your question with his own. He reached a hand up to hold your cheek and swipe a few more stray tears. “Shhh,” he hushed gently as his hand still worked to soothe your heavy chest. 
You sniffled, body sparking, growing goosebumps rapidly at the way he was stimulating you so deliciously. Your thighs worked hard to ease the throb between your legs. Playing it off the best you could, you offered him a half-assed response. “Don’t ask me why the tears are happening–it’s–it’s the baby hormones,” you sniffed again, willing the tears to go away. 
Thankfully, they did. And, after they’d subsided, he went to touch your other breast, your hand still on his chest, now clawing at his skin with each measured press of his hand at your aching breasts. Your hand trailed up to hold his neck, thumb smoothing at the flesh behind his ear. God, you’d missed holding him and you really loved that spot behind his ear. . . couldn’t explain it. 
“How does it feel?” He soothed, licking his lips once at a sigh you emitted with one particular graze to your tight nipple.
“So fucking good,” you grit out, your hand gripping gently at the roots of his long hair, darkened and soaking wet from the water flowing from the showerhead. “How do you know how to–? They hurt when anyone else holds them. . . but not with you– how?”
“I don’t know,” he replied with a hoarse chuckle. “I have been doing research on how to–,” he coughed, his other hand coming to join the one on your chest, doing his best to give equal treatment to both of your tits. And dammit if he wasn’t doing the best fucking job at it.
You gasped a whine at the additional pressure, his dark eyes finding yours as soon as you’d made the sound. The smile you gave him was bashful, cheeks flaring a deep pink in the soft moment.
He continued his words as he worked his hands so intentionally against your swollen, aching chest. “I’ve been reading on how to pleasure pregnant women– what to do to make them feel better. . . since your body’s changing and shit. And you told me that your tits have been sore, so I’ve been reading on how to help that specifically. I didn’t think I’d get to try it out on you – but, here we are,” he smirked, his eyes connecting with yours once more as he raised a brow. 
Didn’t think he’d ‘get to try it out on you’. 
You blushed, his eyes going back to watching your tits as he softly swirled a thumb on your nipple, you moaned, following his eyes with your own. God bless America. Watching him do it was worse. Your nerves were on fire and you felt your muscles tighten at your core, needing his touch in a million places at once.
“And, when pregnant women have sore tits, it apparently helps to massage them,” he continued, informing you of his research. “So, I thought I’d try that.”
“What else did you find in your research?” You asked, watching his hands move just so, his thumbs rubbing purposefully light circles around and over your nipples. Fuuuck yes.
“For sore tits or overall pleasure?” He pondered, eyebrow raising again as he caught your line of sight. 
“Pleasure,” you breathed, feeling his hands come to a devastating halt on your chest, smoothing over your sides before he dropped them. 
Goddammit, Jake. Don’t stop. 
“Well, I know that some pregnant women really like being touched and have a pretty high libido,” he paused, bringing his hands up to push his soaking wet hair back. Your hand dropped from behind his head. “But I also found that other pregnant women experience the exact opposite – have an aversion to sex.” He eyed you, squinting with a knowing smirk. “I could probably guess which type you are by how much you loved that just now, but . . . I want you to tell me. High libido or low?”
“Well,” you paused, your legs suddenly feeling like Jell-o. So, not wanting to fall or some shit, when he’d successfully pushed his hair back, you reached both hands up to wrap around the base of his head, your fingers working at your own massage on him. “I–I haven’t really felt a high libido for anyone but you. . . I don’t think I’d want it from anyone else right now. . . So, I don’t know what that makes me. High, maybe?” You pondered aloud, wanting his opinion of your predicament. “. . .If I only want you, a high libido for you?”
“Fuck. Are you serious?” You watched one hand reach between you to rub against the strain at his zipper. The other hand came to your hip, pulling you into him further.
He brought you as close as you could come with a new belly in the middle. He glanced down at the growing bump, his eyes gazing at it, so gently. He didn’t reach to touch it—not yet. . . Seeming to wait on you for permission, but not saying it. But. . . you just felt now was not the right time.
So, instead, you surveyed him.
The sight of him admiring your belly was almost too much to process. . . He was looking so carefully and affectionately — he got it. He felt it.
You sniffed, biding your tears the best you could. And at the sniff, his eyes flicked to you. . . His stare said something you thought daily.
That’s my baby, he seemed to say with only a simple twinkle in his eye. His dark irises became so light, his under eye circles seemed to disappear with the wonder in his stare.
He winked at you and sent you into a minor frenzy. As your heart worked to pick back up, he began moving his hand down to your ass to pay attention to the muscle you’d told him was sore earlier.
Your sighs filled the air, your senses overwhelmed by him. He rasped his next question, back on the topic from earlier, voice so low between the two of you. “You only want me?”
“Only you,” you confirmed, the honest words brushing against his face with your quiet, sighed response. 
“So, if I were to be wanting to. . . help you, you know. . . you’d say you have a high libido?” 
“So fucking high.”
“Thank fucking God,” he growled. And with one more push of his hand against himself, he moaned under his breath, and with one more squeeze to your ass, he grasped both of your hips, holding you to him tightly. Your belly, pressed between the two of you, still so foreign in a moment like this.
“Well, there are countless positions to try, but right now I can’t really–.”
“Don’t tell me you’re going to cut it off at all of the other shit, too,” you said, backing away from him, his hands dropping from you as you let go of his neck. “No kissing, so what’s next? What can’t you do? You never answered that.”
He started unbuttoning his sopping wet shirt. And when it was finally completely off, he reached up to drape it across the bar of the shower head. Your eyes tracked every. single. movement. The way his bicep rippled slightly with the stretch, the way his tanned abdomen flexed. . . every muscle, so beautiful in its prominence beneath his soft skin. 
When he was back from his task and looking at you again, shirtless and solid as a brick wall, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander. He cleared his throat, bringing your attention to his face once more. The smirk on his lips and the way his eyebrow was arched pissed you the fuck off. Was this amusing to him?
“You think it’s funny? How turned on I am and you can’t do a damned thing about it? Even though you led me to believe you could?”
“Who said I couldn’t?”
“You just said you can’t–.”
“You didn’t let me finish, y/n,” he reasoned. “I was going to say I can’t do that right now because I need to focus on you before we get to sex.”
‘Before we get to sex’. . . was he planning on . . . more? 
Deciding to ignore that dangerous train of thought for the time being, you huffed, your arms still crossed at the top of your slightly rounded abdomen. “Well, I’m just confused.”
“The only thing I told you I can’t do is kiss your lips,” he reminded you, the calloused pad of his thumb coming up to briefly touch your plush lips. His eyes followed his action, your lips still pursed in annoyance as you challenged him with your expression and stance.
But you were wavering by the second, especially any time your eyes followed a drop of water from his shoulder, all the way to the waistband of his dark jeans. And every time you caught sight of the raging erection in his jeans. . .
“Y/n.”
Embarrassed and flushed, you flicked your eyes back to his face. You covered it up with indignance and frustration, your arms tightening in their position. “What, Jake?”
“I will do anything else you need,” he reassured, taking a tentative step towards you, boots clicking against the floor of the tub – where you’d managed to press yourself against the opposite wall of the shower. Your body betrayed you, your nipples once again peaking at his proximity. “And. . . I never said I can’t kiss other parts of your body. I can very much kiss you. . . elsewhere,” his eyes trailed to where your thighs were still pressed to relieve the persistent pulse of your center.
“Goddammit, Jacob,” you breathed with a roll of your eyes, arching yourself off of the wall towards him, just in time for him to meet you halfway. “You should have said that.”
His eyes bugged, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips until a bright white smile appeared in a laugh. “I tried! You didn’t let me.”
He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly to him, your belly between you not letting you get quite as close as you used to.
“Then do something–please.”
He leaned forward, kissing behind your ear, right where you liked to kiss him. Then, he trailed his mouth down the column of your throat. He alternated pecks and open mouthed kisses, all the way to your shoulders, collarbones. . . You sighed, completely at his mercy. When he found your left breast, he gave it the most attention. 
He licked around the sensitive nipple of your left breast, mirroring it with the right. At which, he elicited a moan from you that quickly progressed into a very whiny wail. “Fuck! Fuck, yes!” You cried, grasping his wet hair, not sure how to stop yourself if you fell – your shaking knees were bound to betray you, you could feel it. “This is so fucking wrong.”
“I. Don’t. Care,” he growled against the wet, supple skin of your breast. Every word, emphasized with a lick around your tender, hardened flesh.
Your train of thought was halted as you lost all thought in your brain at him full-on kissing your nipples, rather than giving them little kitten licks. No, now he was giving them kisses just like he would your mouth. Tongue and all. You were going to finish from this alone. . . You watched him in pure astonishment, his eyebrows knit in concentration. Then, as if things could get any worse (better?) he moaned – the action vibrated against your skin.
Your hips jolted up into his. Both of you groaned in unison at the contact, his hard dick enticing you as you felt it, only a thin barrier of clothing between you. . . You felt yourself flex at nothing, your thighs feeling the wet result of your arousal.
You knew you were damn close to finishing.
“Don’t cum yet,” he commanded, mumbling around your nipple.
Of course he knew you were on the verge.
Your nipples, usually so fucking sore, felt like they were made of sparklers, electric under his soft mouth. “‘M not done yet.”
“But– I can’t– a-ah-ah!,” you moaned, your body beginning to lose its fight to stand up straight, near to giving out. “I can’t hold on for much longer, Jake. Please. I promise I’ll cum again for you,” you swore, your fingers lacing tightly into his long, chestnut locks. “Please, baby.”
The pet name slipped from your lips without thought of repercussion. But, you didn’t really care that you’d let it slip since it didn’t seem to deter him. In fact, it had spurred him on even more. 
“Not yet,” he bit out, his dark eyes meeting yours from their place at your full breasts. 
Then, he winked, making you throb from that gesture alone. Fuck. You were a goner. You weren’t sure you could do as he said. 
He went back to giving your body kisses, this time trailing back up to your face, little pecks covering every expanse of skin on your flushed face. Then, with one gentle kiss to the tip of your nose, he reached a hand up to hold your cheek.
His eyes held yours, open and vulnerable under his stare. So soft, he spoke to you with fervor in his tone. “I promise it’ll be better if you just wait, baby.”
Him returning the pet name didn’t help matters and only made you more desperate to fall apart.
So, rather than saying anything in return, you decided you’d try your best to follow his instructions. The only thing you could think to do was pinch your eyes shut and lay your head against the wall in frustration. “Fine,” you griped, hands tightening in his hair. 
His mouth worked, venturing down once again, giving sloppy kisses from your collarbones all the way to your hips.
Once there, his hands replaced his mouth and started kneading at your hips as his mouth kept moving downward. His hands did a stellar job at holding you against the wall to prevent a fall.
His hold on you was strong and intent. And, while holding you, as he simultaneously massaged your hips. . . it was fucking heaven. His thumbs moved and pressed with purpose, working the tired muscle at your joints. 
Fuck– he really had done his research to know that your hips could hurt like a bitch. And God knew yours did. 
“My hips– Jake, god. . . thank you,” you sighed, your eyes closing at the way your body felt weightless under his hands and mouth. 
Suddenly, his mouth was on your thighs, going back and forth between each leg until he reached your calves, his hands having to move down your legs with the action, still holding you upright as he knelt before you.
You opened your eyes, suddenly desiring to see him again, and you watched as he gave your legs unrelenting attention. 
You watched in wonder as he very slowly started to work his way up to where you needed him most. But, once he got there, he gave you a look that made your knees buckle. . .
Then, he began on you, wasting absolutely zero time. There was no warning for his mouth meeting your searing hot, wet heat. 
“Oh-oh-oh, J-Jake, f-fuck, yes!” You were nearly incoherent, but who would expect any different when you had Jake Kiszka making out with your wet and waiting pussy.
You’d been aching and waiting to have this again for so fucking long. . .The slew of curse words and moans that escaped your lips were useless, as they all came out as jumbled non-words. Utterly incoherent.
He was doing figure eights with his tongue, inching closer and closer to your opening, not even daring to edge towards your clit yet. Didn’t want you to fucking finish yet, goddammit. 
You clenched your jaw, a growl coming from your lips, unable to do anything but watch him. Your eyes couldn’t dare leave the sight in front of you. He was taking his time to lap at your folds, soaked and fluttering for him. Your hips jerked forward, not able to stop the way his lips and tongue were setting you on fire to the point of retaliation. 
You were trembling, your body not working on its own at all to hold you up. You were dependent on his death grip, now back on your hips, steadying you. He was pressing you so hard to the wall – you fucking hoped that he left bruises in the wake of his fingertips. 
He kept on with his work for a bit longer before the water started turning cold. Fuck no. 
And, of course, as if on cue, Jake backed away, wiping the corners of his mouth with the pad of his right thumb, his left hand still holding you to the wall. 
“I swear to god, Jacob Thomas, if you fucking stop because of some cold wa– oh!” 
He was back to licking up every bit of early release at your heat, flattening his tongue against your slit. You couldn’t catch a breath to finish what you were saying as he replaced his tongue with his fingers. He twirled his pointer and middle fingers through your soaking folds, until he met your entrance.
But, he stopped there. 
And you knew why. He could tell you were cold – obviously shivering from more than his mouth and hands. 
He could read you so well. You didn’t know if it was because of the connection you had to him by carrying his baby or what, but his instincts of your impending reactions came incredibly quick in recent days.
As he spoke, he kept his fingers at your core, spinning them to continue eliciting stimulation. The calluses of his fingertips were the perfect addition of friction to your swollen heat. . . you bit your lip, your head laying against the shower wall. You could barely concentrate on the fact that he’d begun talking.  
“You’re shaking, y/n,” he clarified, as if you didn’t know. 
Which, in true fashion, pissed you off. But, still hazy from his ongoing touch, you closed your eyes to center yourself. 
When you leaned off of the wall the best you could, you opened your eyes. Instantly, it felt like you were going to slip with the movement. But, just when your foot dared to lose balance, his hold on your hip tightened. His fingers were still spinning against you, just on the precipice of entering you. So, you were sure he’d felt your walls flutter at the way he grasped you.
But, he didn’t say anything. He was too focused on your chilliness and your center, your body straight-up shaking from the now-cold water. Turning around, fingertips still tucked between your folds–still not fucking inside of you yet–, he switched the shower off. 
“Jake!” You complained for no reason whatsoever. Well. . . you knew why you were complaining. You were worried. “Please, don’t let this be the–.”
“I’ve kept my fingers where they are to show you I’m not fucking done,” he responded, tone equally lacking tolerance for your attitude. “Can you just be fucking patient?”
“You’re not being patient!” 
“How in the hell am I not being patient?!” 
“Your voice tells me so,” you argued, hearing the way it sounded ridiculous as soon as you said it. You shook your head, body shaking from the cool nip of the bathroom air and your soaking wet body. He was also trembling, his body nearly as wet as yours. 
He removed his fingers, further aggravating you. . . but you couldn’t stay mad for long as he was eliciting a gasp from you, yet again, within seconds. You watched as he removed his fingers from you, bringing them up to his mouth to suck your arousal from them. Closing his eyes and moaning in the process, his opinion of the way you tasted apparent. 
Holy fucking hell. 
“Taste good?” You asked, trying to sound snarky, but failing from the way your breath had escaped your lungs. 
When his fingers left his mouth, he slowly started to stand, eyes connecting to and never leaving yours. His grip on your hip not giving up a single bit in the process. Once he was standing at full height again, he slid the shower curtain open, eyes staying hooked on yours.
He grabbed the towel hanging on the wall rack, momentarily leaving your gaze. But, as soon as he had the towel in his hands, his eyes snapped back to your waiting stare. 
“Fucking delicious. You taste better than anything – always have. . . No other woman compares. But. . . it’s–it’s even more-so now,” he paused, releasing your hip and motioning for you to come towards his arms with the fluffy, waiting towel. You turned your back to him, his breath sliding through his teeth. “Your ass. . . Fuck it all.”
You giggled, feeling so incredibly wonderful for the first time in so long. Holding your arms out a little, he wrapped the towel at your back and handed you the rest to finish wrapping yourself. 
He kept talking as you cinched the white towel around yourself, your breasts not appreciating the way you tucked the material tight around your chest. You winced at the feeling, pissed with the fact that your body was so sore.
Jake’s eyebrows knitted together in worry. “You okay?”
You nodded grumpily. “Yes,” you grumbled. “It’s my boobs. They just hurt.”
There was no missing the way he bit his lip, licking them soon after before he responded. “I’ll help you feel better, baby. Don’t worry.”
The buzzing in your veins was impossible to ignore, and you didn’t trust yourself to give a valid response with how lightheaded he was making you feel. 
All you could do was nod, eyes hopefully communicating your excitement. 
“Anyway, I read about the taste of a woman’s release, too. . . when women are pregnant, they have the tendency to taste sweeter than usual. And I can safely assure you, it’s the motherfucking truth,” his voice was hoarse with the last sentence. He kept on, locking his Amber-brown irises with yours. “And it’s fuckin’ erotic that you taste like the sweetest thing while you’re growing my baby. . . I can’t even explain it, y/n.”
You were positively twitching, your body threatening to unravel at any given moment. Now warm from the towel, you knew most of your shivering was solely from him. 
“You don’t have to. I get how hot it is. Trust me,” you assured, your mouth dry from it hanging open at his words.
Swallowing purposefully, you shook your head before stepping out of the shower. And, once you’d towel-dried your body enough, you bent to tie the towel around your hair, turning away from him. As you made your way to the mirror, leaving him to check yourself, you realized just how red your face was. “Ah! God, Jake, I look like fuckin’ Elmo.”
He belly laughed at that, the sound making your tummy ignite in a swarm of happy butterflies. “No you don’t. Trust me,” he said, still giggling at what you’d said. “. . . ‘look like Elmo’. You’re fucking hilarious.”
Not able to help the laughter bubbling in your chest either, you turned to face him to enjoy the moment together. 
Well—.
You first saw all of his soaked clothes, in a neat pile ready for the laundry, next to him. His belt, rolled tight on the toilet seat. 
And, Jake, completely naked. 
Your body reacted immediately, suddenly ready for the most. Your tone was way too eager when an inward ponder was spoken aloud. “Are we going to have sex?”
Dear God, y/n.
He smirked, shaking his head as he leaned past your naked body to get in the cabinet under the sink for the spare towel you kept underneath the sink. His fingers brushed your ass in the process and you didn’t want to discuss how quickly his touch heated your skin. You turned away from him, leaning towards the mirror to check out the two pesky spots on your face that threatened a pimple. 
“Was that on purpose?” You shot the other question his way, followed by a statement of your own. “My ass has increased in size, just like the rest of me, so . . . wouldn’t be surprised if it wasn’t on purpose and just because it’s huge.”
“It was most definitely on purpose,” he replied, causing you to lean back so you could give him your full attention. The response made your cheeks blush crimson red, barely visible through your slowly lightening skin.
When you swiveled his way, you found him towel drying his hair, his dick still fully erect and tempting the fucking hell out of you. You bit your lip, and he continued on, eyes closed as he focused on drying his hair. God, he was so handsome. “And I don’t know what you mean by the rest of you increasing in size or huge. God. You aren’t huge by any standard, and all I’ve noticed increase in size are the three things I enjoy watching as they get bigger.”
You flushed, turning away once more to work on towel drying your own hair before you left the steamy room. You’d want the towel to wrap up in the chilly hallway. 
Suddenly intrigued by the fact that you were talking so openly with him, you kept going. “The Three B’s? Boobs, belly, butt?”
Jake was laughing again at that, his snort unmistakable, even as you were bent awkwardly at the waist to towel dry your own hair. “Yes,” he chuckled, lighthearted. “That is correct. Did you make that up?”
Damn, I missed this, your mind absently trailed. He was everything wrapped in one.
“I don’t know,” you smiled, your body buzzing with all things him. “You didn’t answer my sex question.”
“No sex,” he promptly replied. Your heart fell, but obviously being oblivious to it, he kept on. “I’ve got a job to finish tonight that doesn’t include my dick.”
“What if I want it to include your dick? Aren’t you doing this to please me?”
How had the conversation just picked up like you’d never stopped being the two of you? The awkward air that had persisted, on and off since the wretched day in the kitchen in August — it was seeming to float away day by day with his knowledge of the baby in your belly. 
But, before that line of thought could run off, he was responding to you. 
“Are you saying you weren’t pleased with what I started in there just now?”
“Of course I fucking was, Jake,” you rolled your eyes. “But, still–.”
“You just answered the question yourself.”
You huffed with a roll of your eyes.
“Would you just finish drying your fucking hair so I can continue eating you out?”
The way your body temperature rose inexplicably at his words was not something you wanted to admit to, so you went with a simple response to keep you on level ground with him, rather than a quivering mess. 
“Aye aye, captain.”
Another snort, followed by a chuckle. “Shut the fuck up.”
“We’re not naming our baby Black Beard,” you stated jokingly, standing up to full height, eyeing him. “I know you love pirates and I love watching the documentaries with you, but. . .,” you grinned at him.
“God, fuck no,” he wrinkled his brow, shaking his body in an air of distaste. “We don’t hate the baby. We love the baby.”
And, for the umpteenth time that evening, your heart rate spiked ridiculously high. 
He loves the baby.
-🌼🌼🌼-
a/n: hmmm... Reader is convinced it’s a one time thing. buuuut does Jake? how do you think things will go in the bedroom once we've left the bathroom? ;)
Taglist:
@joshym, @gretavanfleetposts, @alyson814, @fretaganvleet, @lallisonl, @writingcold, @gvfpal, @twinszka, @jessicafg03, @reesetrippingthelight, @sacredjake, @laurenlovesgretavanfleet, @gretavangroove, @222headedcalf, @dreamssingold, @carbondancingthroughtime, @raviolilegs, @way-to-go-lad, @jakekiszkasmommy, @katgvf, @objectsinspvce, @jaketlover, @vanfleeter, @thetroublegetssoloud71, @seditabets, @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlove, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend
@aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf, @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama, @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @sacredtheslay, @alienobsever, @hollyco, @age0fwagner, @raceb14, @stardustcatcher, @styles-canvas, @ladywhimsymoon, @earthgrlsreasy, @peaceloveunitygvf
@torniturntomyarrow, @joshsbonnet, @llrosee, @starshine-gvf, @itsafullmoon, @gvfmarge, @creadliz98, @mackalah, @lek-gvf, @carlyfleet, @profitofthedune, @mefiorini, @welllauragvf, @highway-tuna, @dont-go-home-without-me, @sarah-gvf01, @polemicandcontent, @ageofbajabule, @texas-bbq-pringles, @builtbybrokenbells, @sacredtheslay
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piratesfromspace · 1 year
Text
The Escape (Joel/Reader)
Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader Rated: Explicit Word count: 2.9k Summary: You've been captured by slavers and thrown into the same cell as Joel. Note: I've been through a severe lack of energy and inspiration, but here is my take on Joel, featuring some sweet smut of course! This happens roughly 10 years after the Outbreak, so Joel would be in his 40s and Reader is in her 20s. Content: hurt/comfort, smut, almost-virginity loss, p-i-v, praise kink, alcohol, overall canon typical violence
MASTERLIST
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When you’re thrown into his cell - an old bathroom, all broken tiles and rusted pipes - Joel gets tense, hand clenching harder on the shiv he improvised a couple days ago. He has no idea what the slavers are plotting. He’s been held in here for maybe one week now, hard to tell when the days are blending into each other, long boring hours only punctuated by a bottle of water and some food left on the floor without a word.
He knows his worth is in his strength and the slavers have no interest in letting him starve to death - that’s the only positive thing in his whole ordeal. He can’t believe he’s been stupid enough to let himself be captured. But he had reacted one second too late, and there were too many, and here he is, waiting to be sold to the highest bidder. 
You land hard on your knees, unable to stop your pathetic fall on the hard floor, as the door of the cell is closed shut once again. He watches, ready to strike, as you scramble to get back in a sitting position - and then you finally notice him, standing tall in one of the corners, the glint of something undoubtedly lethal in the hand he’s hiding behind him. You try to get up on your feet, but your muddy boots are sliding on the tiles, your legs shaking with the effort - you’re clearly exhausted. Your hands are bound behind your back, leaving you with very little option. You push yourself back until the wall hits your shoulders, until you have nowhere else to go. 
Joel is assessing your form very calmly, a stark contrast with the frantic terror pinching your brows. You look young, younger than him for sure, body lean from years of privation (like everyone else now), and he’s sure you could be mistaken for a teenager from afar - maybe you were when the Outbreak happened 10 years ago, but he can see the way your eyes are sunk, the fine skin under them puffy from a decade-worth of bad sleep and dirty conscience. Nah, you may be a child of the Apocalypse, but you’re definitely old enough to realize you’re in a shitty situation. Something like pity tugs at his heart - or more like recognition, the fire in your gaze despite the fear washing over your features, the will to push through the tiredness, the need to fight until the very end, even cornered and tied up. A mirror handed to him of what he was like at your age.
Maybe you can be useful, you can help him escape, surely you know a trick or two, or you wouldn’t have been able to survive this long - he tries to convince himself that’s the reason why he helps you. Why he walks up to you, crouches in front of your scared face and orders you to turn around. He has to repeat himself because you don’t want to listen but he does his best to not sound as harsh as usual, and finally, you understand and offer him your bound hands. He tugs on the dirty scrap of fabric, unties the knot with skillful fingers. He takes hold of your wrists before you can even move your arms, and for a second you feel the icy stab of panic and treason in your throat. Since when do you trust strangers? 
“Easy there…” his warm voice rumbles in your back “Guess you’ve been like this for more than an hour, ‘gonna hurt if you move too fast.” he explains, while bringing slowly your hands in front of you. He’s right, you hiss a pained fuck when your shoulders protest at the change in position. He’s freaking close, his chest almost flush to your back, the rough skin of his palms still on your wrists. He suddenly lets go of you, gets up on his feet, and you turn on your knees to face him. He looks older than you, his temples already turning to gray. There is a gravity in his expression, like he stopped smiling 10 years ago and never did it again since - but still you catch a distant warmth in his soft brown eyes, behind his steely demeanor. His whole persona is a mix of hard and soft, exposed forearms showing off the chords of his muscles under a skin littered with scars, contrasting with the mundane patchy beard and the soft curls on his nape. He’s kinda handsome in his own way, even though he looks like someone who can do ugly things.
That’s the beginning of your cooperation. You had helped him, baiting the guard in pretending to be sick, and then he had used the makeshift knife to slit his throat, without so much as a second of hesitation. You remember the bright red blood spilling on the dirty tiles, staining the dried grout vermilion. It had been a while since you had seen a healthy human get killed up close. You had stood there, bile at the back of your tongue, ringing in your ears, until the firm command - move, come on - had made you join him. He had slashed his way out with too much ease, and had made you run for so long, you got sick the minute you finally stopped inside an abandoned house. You spat all the bile that had been bubbling in your guts, folded over the moldy kitchen sink. You had expected him to get disgusted and just leave you there to a very certain death, but he just took out a bottle of water from the backpack he stole during your escape and wordlessly handed it to you. He did not have to do that, he could have kept the precious resource for himself. You still wonder why - it wasn’t out of selflessness, definitely not out of kindness. You guessed he needed someone to stay awake and keep watch so he could sleep a little. Useful - you were useful. 
He brings you back to the QZ because that’s where you’ll be safe - safer at least. Shielded from the slavers and the raiders and the biters. Definitely not from the corrupt FEDRA guards, the local traffickers, the ruthless fireflies - and really, any individual ready to take advantage showing how thin the veneer of civilization truly was in the first place.
You stay in his small apartment because you have nowhere else to go. Even after you start working and earning your part. At first, he slept on the couch so you could have the bed. But one day, after a gruesome double-shift, he comes back home so exhausted he just crashes on the mattress without realizing you’re already there. It’s not the first time you sleep next to him. You had to during the trek back to the QZ. Only way to keep warm. It was utilitarian, nothing else. Still, it meant you trusted him enough to close your eyes in his presence. You still do. 
When you wake up the next morning, you feel him pressed against your back. Either him or you had sought the other’s warmth during the night. You have to admit you slept pretty well. You’re usually freezing and he’s just… warm. A solid wall radiating heat behind you. His slow breathing is keeping at bay the usual rush of anxiety you get when you wake up every day to discover this too long nightmare is indeed reality. You guess you had to have a similar effect on him because dawn is already lighting the room with its dull glow and he’s not awake yet. 
That’s the beginning of another level of your relationship - you don’t want to give a name to whatever strange alliance is going on between you. Still, night after night, he keeps going back, and you let him, welcome him silently in your bed (actually it’s his). You should be scared, he’s but a man, and if he was any other man, you would know that he’d been expecting something from you. Expecting you to offer your naked skin and your warm body in exchange for his protection. But it never comes. Joel seems very content in being able to lay there on his mattress and share his warmth with you. You can even see how he glares darkly at that FEDRA guard who keeps talking to you for any reason possible. How he makes sure you’re home as soon as the sun sets. 
And then, one day, you’re on his sofa sharing some whisky - the nice one, the real one, a 20-year old bottle he traded - and it says a lot he’s even sharing it with you in the first place. Joel is in a good mood, he cracks a couple awful dad jokes, and you laugh, so hard tears leak on your cheeks. He doesn’t think, just swipes them with his thumb, calloused pad of his finger on the sensitive skin just under your lashes. He lingers there, looks at you with hooded eyes and you know you’re royally fucked. He looks so good, the warm light of sunset on his tanned skin, his hair mussed, making him look a bit younger. It makes you forget he’s almost two decades older - but what does that even mean today? Life - death - is no longer this linear thing, and there is no one left to scold you about your partner’s choice. Nobody cares anymore. Yet he cared for you. So you decide to indulge in this desire that has been brewing in your chest since the moment he untied you in that damned icy cell. 
He’s kind of a jerk with it, lets you do all the work. Maybe he’s just too scared you would feel forced to accept what he wants to offer. But you soldier on, you kiss him with all the fervor of your youth, climb on his lap, and keep licking his tongue until he finally dares to take charge. Joel tastes like the bourbon discarded on the floor - sweet and rich, smoked spice and the desperate furor of someone whose will to live only surpasses his devastating grief by a short inch. 
You sigh in his mouth, the relief provided by his touch welcome but not enough to quench the pent-up thirst you’ve been harboring for years now. He must feel it because when your slightly shaking fingers are hastily working the buttons of his shirt open, then diving straight to the fly of his jeans, he stops you.
“Wait”, he rasps, a hint of worry mixed in the molasses of his voice, “please tell me you have done this before”.  
“Yeah -yes, yes… just -it’s been a long time. Like, not since the ‘break…”
“Fuck.” he answers, head lolling backward against the sofa, and you’re sure you screwed up. No way he’s gonna want to do it with an almost virgin. For your defense, after a few experiments with your then-boyfriend from before the apocalypse, your possibilities were quite limited. You focused more on staying alive than romance. More on avoiding men than courting them. Years went by and no one came who you could trust enough. Until him. 
“Please, Joel” you kiss his cheek, his neck. “I want to feel good just for a bit”, you beg him, because the thought of him leaving you like this makes you wanna die of shame. 
You feel more than you hear him growl, the rumble of his chest making you shiver against him. He grounds his hands on your waist, presses the rough pads of his fingers into your supple and warm flesh. 
“Remove your clothes”, he finally commands. Your jeans and sweater are thrown on the ground without second thought. You’re naked while he just pushed his pants low enough to free his already leaking cock. 
“Joel…” your gasp dies in your throat when he crashes his mouth on yours again. He’s… big. You haven’t seen a lot of cocks in your life, but you’re pretty sure he definitely has bragging rights. He feels burning hot and surprisingly soft in your palm, pulsing in time with the frantic beating of your heart. 
He’s not especially careful when he parts your folds, long fingers pressing against your clit in a couple of crude circles before pushing inside you. The intrusion is nothing like you remember. It burns in an addictive way, and when he crooks his index toward your belly, and presses his thumb on your clit, you let out a whimper that makes him groan in response. His other hand has threaded itself in your hair, and he uses it to hold your head steady. 
“Eyes on me sweetheart” he urges. His lips are parted, the glint of his canines echoing the predatory gaze he’s pining you with. It’s been barely a minute and you’re already panting, feeling your orgasm build up at an impressive pace. You muffle your cries against your palm, unwilling for anyone on the other side of those cardboard thin walls to hear you.
“Come on, don't get shy now.” he rasps, voice thick in his throat. “Wanna hear you when I make you come”. Reluctantly, you remove your hand, finding purchase on his shoulders where you sink your short nails, trying to contain the molten wave of pleasure washing over you. The orgasm is brutal, your whole body seizing as Joel keeps on grounding his thumb cruelly hard on your clit, the fist on your hair tightening even more as he praises you throughout. It hurts so good you don’t remember sex could even be like this. 
You’re barely down from your high that Joel manhandles your pliant body until you’re under him on the couch. He’s still clothed, his jeans scratchy against your bare legs. His fingers follow an ugly scar on your flank - you got this one pretty early after the end of the world, it’s still itchy sometimes, you don’t really want to talk about it - and you hear him mumble how pretty you are, more for himself than for you. “Joel” you plead again and he snaps out of his haze, voracious glint back in his eyes. 
“I’m here, I’m here” he repeats, guiding his cock against your wet slit. He stops just a second to ask if you still want this, and you beg his name again. Finally, he pushes inside you, fills you in one slow motion. You can’t stop the litany of fuck escaping your mouth. It feels like he’s splitting you in two, molding your flesh to him. The stretch is a lot, makes your brain short-circuit. “Breathe” he instructs, his fingers - still wet from your desire - finds your cheek in a soothing gesture. “Stay with me”, he adds, voice low against the dainty shell of your ear. 
Joel fucks you slow, way more gentle than when he had his fingers buried in your cunt a few minutes before. He pushes your knees apart, hikes your legs high on his waist, almost folding you in half. It still hurts a little, but the pressure feels good, even better when one of his hands finds your clit again. Your soft moans fill the air between you, warm with whiskey and need. One particularly powerful snap of his hips and his cock touches something bright inside of you, awakening feelings you had even forgotten about. He keeps rubbing the delicate and swollen flesh just above there you’re joined, and you already know your second orgasm is not far. 
You seek his mouth, demanding for him to kiss you, as you bury your hand in his soft curls, where early swirls of gray ring the end of his youth. A sudden burst of need and yearning and almost sadness shots through you. It’s not only about being intimate with someone after all those years. It’s the emotion of trusting another human enough to bare your body, to let them come close, to show vulnerability - not in the form of the pain and the gruesome you’re both accustomed to - no, the real vulnerability that lies in the will to share something good, something mundane and beautiful, sinful and sacred. The illusion that everything will be alright, that, in the next seconds, you both have nothing else to care about than your common pleasure, than the warmth of the other’s skin, than this silly and dangerous thrill you’re willing to offer. You’re opening your legs as much as your heart, and you know it’s going to wreck you in the most stunning way. 
You come with a whisper of his name against his lips, like a secret prayer, an oath that in this instant he is all you believe in. He follows you in your bliss just after, considerate enough to pull out and cum on your belly. You forgot how messy all this can be. But the sight of his cum on your skin is also a bleak reminder of reality - you better not get pregnant now. He must sense your distress because he cups your cheeks gently, kisses you again. 
“Stay with me” he says, echoing his words from a few minutes earlier, when you were stuffed full with him. Except this time, you think you understand what he means - what he truly means. 
You think you feel him smile in the kiss.
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bigmilkagenda · 3 months
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Of the many, many plates of pancakes* that were offered to the listener in magp 1-07, this one may be my favourite
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[ID: A screenshot of an unofficial transcript to The Magnus Protocol. CELIA is saying "Yeah. I mean, it's an old system, but it could have been worse. It's not like we're wrestling with tape recorders and manila folders." /end ID]
When we meet TMA-Celia for the second time, she's lost her name. She was Lynne Hammond, and now she's not. She doesn't seem to remember Martin, either, but it's not clear how much of herself and her life from before the change she does remember. She's freaked out by the tape recorders that start showing up, and there's no indication that she associates them with the Institute specifically.
If Celia Ripley is, as we are clearly intended to believe or consider, the same Celia as in TMA, why is she making knowing comments about manila folders and tape recorders? Tape recorders in particular are hardly standard equipment at what seems to be mostly a text data-entry and cataloguing job. She could have said typewriters, or carbon paper. Fax machines, if we're dunking on Freddy specifically.
She says "tape recorders and manila folders." Celia Ripley is referencing The Magnus Institute, particularly the outdated technologies in use in the Archives.
Maybe she learned more from Melanie about what the recorders were and did at the Institute, sometime after MAG 190. Maybe she has those specific memories of giving her statement in MAG 100, and little else. Maybe Martin grew an apocalypse beard and she remembers everything, but just didn't recognise him out of context and in a tunnel and during A Pretty Weird Time Overall.
Maybe she stuck around with Melanie-Georgie-Basira for a while after things returned, and that's how she learned about the particular significance of tape recorders.
Maybe she found some tapes and listened to a couple hundred of them.
Or maybe she's simply an AU Celia, with a knack for oddly specific and kind of clunky comparisons, drawn into this through the powers of metafiction and string theory.
Or maybe someone filled her with spiders and sent her to finish the job of spreading Fear to this particular world.
And the reason this particular plate of textual pancakes** (short stack, butter and nightmare syrup) is one of my favourites from "Give and Take" is because I genuinely have no idea! None of these are theories because there isn't enough evidence to point me in any particular direction. It's a mystery!, Jon voice, etcetera.
If you cornered me and paid me to have an opinion about it I could say which options I thought were more likely, I guess. But the odds are high that I'd be wrong, and I think the boat for me getting paid to interpret texts probably sailed fifteen years ago, besides. I'm in this for the love of the game.***
November is the true spooky season in the northern hemisphere.**** Yeah, October ends with Halloween, but you know what month starts with Halloween? Mmhmm. By November of 2019 TMA had been on my list for a few years, and someone I was getting to know and really liked recommended it to me specifically in the days after 159 aired. The conditions were correct for me to get into something new, is what I'm saying. I still remember listening to "Anglerfish" for the first time, walking home from my office job in the blustery November dark. I got home starry-eyed and red-cheeked and thrilled by the story I'd just heard.
It took a couple of months for me to catch up, and though I loved having so much to listen to there were times when I wished I'd started earlier, to have the experience of seeing things unfold.
And now we're back at a beginning, and get to experience the horrible joys of finding out.
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[ID: A screenshot of an unofficial transcript to The Magnus Protocol. LENA is saying "Of a sort. I hope you're as ready for it as you think you are. Consider yourself "in." /end ID]
*Sabrina pancake meme
** the best kind, especially if it's a contest between textual and fluffy pancakes. Keep those spongy bastards away from me, I'll take the kind with a typeface instead
***Being a huge nerd
**** For more of my opinions on November, see https://www.tumblr.com/almostmolly/188799234276
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ahsokasupremacy · 9 months
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Alright, here are my Top Ten funniest guesses (+1 that I bet nobody ELSE will guess) for who Inquisitor Marrok actually is!
You are most welcome to correct me or let me know who YOU think is most probable.
And just to challenge myself, I’m NOT putting Ezra. Because that would be too obvious.
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1. Barriss Offee
I’m serious when I say that this is probably the most likely.
We know that she is a very important character in Ahsoka’s life, the writers could be trying to mislead us into thinking that the Force User is a man when really we have no confirmation that they are. Plus Dave Filoni has said in interviews that he refused to have the character make cameos just because he wanted to save her for later. Also, many people already speculated that Barriss became an Inquisitor after Order 66, explaining the double-sided Inquisitor lightsaber.
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2. Darth Maul
Their build is a little too skinny for Darth Maul, and also wow, he must really be getting up there. And also, he died in Rebels. But when has that really ever stopped Disney from resurrecting him? I just think they should keep bringing him back. For the bit. I want the opening scroll for the upcoming Daisy Ridley movie to contain the words “Somehow, Darth Maul returned…”
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3. Bo Katan
I highly doubt this because her character arc on the Mandalorian is already concluded, but I can kinda see her doing this as like, a side gig. Homegirl is probably broke from paying off Mandalore’s restoration fees. She’s not a Force User unfortunately, but when has that ever stopped her? I like to believe that Bo Katan simply woke up one day and decided to be Force Sensitive and it all kinda worked out for her somehow.
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4. Lux Bonteri
If this is the option David Filoni is going with, BOOO. Yet another character who isn’t Force Sensitive. If you really think about it, Dave Filoni probably wants to include someone with an important history with Ahsoka, someone close to her that she held dear and that betrayed her and that she still has lingering feelings for.
Well actually that person is Barriss, and yknow, she kinda went MIA. Sooo the next best thing we could get is Lux, I guess!
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5. Anakin (Force Ghost)
Daaaad, what are you doing here?
Well, the ghosts of Obi-Wan and Yoda told him to fuck off and get a job. So here he is. He’s putting in the work! He’s logging onto his Zoom! Ahsoka is gonna be sooo surprised when he finally takes off the mask and reveals it was him along. Just you wait! It’s gonna be so funny!
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6. Korkie Kryze
Now we’re really starting to get big brained here.
In Legends, we have Jacen Solo. In the sequels, we have Kylo Ren.
But in the Brand New Republic era? Hark, a new villain arises. Korkie is embittered about being left behind and forgotten by his biological parents, Satine and Obi-Wan. And now he is out for revenge against all the Force Users and Mandalorians who abandoned him. Mwahahaha. We should’ve known he would turn out like this, he’s a ginger after all.
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7. Ventress
This would technically make Dark Disciple non-canon? But I don't think Dave Filoni cares, considering he hilariously made the Ahsoka novel non-canon. Ventress is obviously very powerful and capable of dual-wielding and she would make a great candidate for an Inquisitor. Plus her and Morgan Elsbeth are both former Nightsisters so points for rapport.
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8. Anakin’s Evil Clone
Hey, I mean Palpatine HAD to start somewhere, right? He didn’t just create Snoke without practice. I like to think he tried making a second Anakin at first, only to discover that Clonakin was a huge pain in the ass and doesn’t wanna follow orders just sit on the couch all day eating the space equivalent of Hot Cheetos.
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9. Cal Kestis but he’s evil now
This one pretty much goes against everything we know about Cal but hey, I’ll take a live action Cal cameo any day now. I’ve been on the frontlines defending my babygirl Anakin since day one, don’t even try to lecture me about the ethics of stanning Darksider Cal.
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9. Mara Jade
OK no more messing around!! I'm serious this time!
EVERYONE LISTEN CLOSELY!
I think the reason why Dave hasn't made any references to Eli, or Ar'alani, or Vahnya must be because he grew up on the 80s Legends trilogy (not the canon trilogy). Whenever Thrawn is mentioned, there is a direct reference to Heir to the Empire. The same novel where Mara Jade is introduced as the Hand of the Emperor. Coincidence? I think not! Obviously, this must be part of Dave Filoni's master plan to softlaunch the upcoming top secret Thrawn series adaptation.
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10. Starkiller
My only real proof is that his name (Marek, Marrok) kinda sounds similar?
Making Starkiller canon would create a whole bunch of problems for the Star Wars timeline. I think his origin story is too Mary Sue-y for even Dave Filoni to try and integrate into current canon.
However, it would be interesting to see a showdown between Anakin's two former apprentices. Interesting, but unlikely.
And finally, for my last guess, I will tell you exactly who Marrok REALLY is. Kathleen Kennedy told me personally, so don't get mad at me! She said it, not me!
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11. Luuke (the clone Palpatine made out of Luke's dismembered hand)
This is the ONLY correct answer.
Us Timothy Zahn enjoyers know that this was really Luuke all along. I told you, Snoke isn't the first clone that Palpatine made! I imagine he had a lot of downtime and got bored and decided to fuck around, and that's how we got Luuke.
And yes, I would cast Sebastian Stan to play him because I'm petty AF.
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