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littlefreya · 4 years

Text

Good Girl

gif credit amancanfly

Synopsis: Henry is at the gym testing the new Glute Drive while his longing wife drops by to visit and decides to play a little wicked game of teasing.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

Word count: 4.2K

Warnings: Explicit, this is basically ALL smut. Slight SubMale / DomFem then a lot of DomMale / SubFem, dry humping, cock teasing, dangerous driving, fingering, dirty talk, daddy kink, slight size kink (I am all the kinks today), unprotected sex and bodily fluids!

A/N: Okay so this fic was born out of the UNHOLY union between this thread and the video of Henry going “good boy” at Kal. Many thanks to my darling @agniavateira for helping me proofread this!

Title: Good Girl

There he is, my bear of a man. His sculpted, wide body plastered to some medieval-looking torture device. Strong, large arms hang onto the handles, muscles flexing. Slick with sweet sweat, he thrusts his hips up and down while grunting with effort.

Who the hell came up with this air-fucking machine?

I walk through the deserted mirrored room, my black painted nails scratching the glass as I draw closer toward Henry. Gyms tend to be freezing, and I’m not properly dressed for a workout session with my mini plaid skirt and a dark grey t-shirt. But his arduous gasps fill the chilled space enough to make things a little warmer.

“What are you doing here, little one?” Henry finally asks, pausing his thrusts for a moment as he spots my cattish moves toward him.

I observe silently as I inch closer. he has his waist strapped to a bench, heavy weights of 80kg are on each side of his body while he lifts upward and presses his behind back down. A sheer layer of sweat covers him entirely, his skin glistening in the fluorescent’s light. His favourite blue top is soaked.

“I came home from the studio and my hubby wasn’t there.” I pout, standing right at the edge of the bench where his feet are pressed for support.

He pouts back at me, genuine care on his face. My darling bear might have the endurance of a large predator, but his heart is all strawberry marshmallow when it comes to his lady. He hates to spend time apart. Whenever our schedules collide it’s all about Face-timing and sending nudes.

Honestly? I care less than he does about this shit ever getting leaked. I even keep some steamy under-the-cover selfies so I’ll have something to work with when either of us is away.

But what I hate the most, is having him here yet he’s absent. The Pre-production shenanigans have him preparing for his next role, which usually means working himself at the gym to the point of collapsing, just so he could look like some demi-god. Honestly, I wouldn’t mind him having a little body fat. That’s why I bake him pizza every weekend. What his gym coach doesn’t know, can’t hurt him.

“I’ll be done in 10 minutes, darling.” he answers and continues to slowly push down and up again, releasing a pained grunt and clenching his teeth. “Just… two… more… sets.”

“I don’t want to wait.” I alert him, circling the machine carefully to not get in his way. I appreciate the hard work and stamina, but I am quite tired of having the downside of the deal. Every day for the last 2 weeks I received an exhausted Cavill with aching, strained muscles. The most action I got was massaging his muscles in the bathtub which might sound romantic if not for him snoring 3 minutes in.

“Ten minutes,” he mentions again. He’s out of breath as he ascends and then lowers once more, the weights pressuring his body down while the bands create a resistance.

No way in hell someone came up with this device and didn’t think this is a sex thing. I see my bear thrusting his hips upward like this and only one thing goes through my mind.

Oh, how I need to be on top of this mountain of a man.

I cannot help myself, nor can I hide the malicious grin forming on my mouth. I lift my leg carefully, hovering it in the air above him. I cage him between my straddled legs whilst giving him my best dominatrix glare. Henry raises his eyes to meet mine, looking dumbfounded.

“What are you doing, darling? You’ll hurt yourself.”

Oh, sweet summer child.

I sway my hips in a slow dance, with the thrust of his body and his heavy breaths as the music I’m dancing to. The arousal in his eyes is evident within seconds. His lips part away slowly, his beautiful blue eyes begin to cloud, and his adam’s apple slides upward in his throat as he swallows.

“At home.”

“Here.” I ignore his request lowering myself slowly and carefully to squat over his groin. He’s not hard, yet.

Henry releases a deep loud grunt. Usually, I am weightless for him, but right now I’m adding to already 160kg of weights. Well, he is the type of guy who likes to push his limits and I am the type of girl who likes to test boundaries.

“Don’t,” Henry protests, another grunt escaping his lips. I stretch myself, my ass pressing back, my groin rubbing against the tender muscle that begins hardening between my legs. I can feel the rush of blood, making him throb and grow vast between my legs.

“Don’t do what?” I press my teeth against the lushness of my lower lip viciously, beginning to grind against the hardness in slow circular motions. “Don’t you have two more sets?”

He clenches his teeth, his hands tightening around the handles so harshly his knuckles whiten. With great effort he lifts up, succumbing to my wickedness. His erected cock is concealed underneath his clothes, yet I press and dance onto it, making blissful moans as the friction has me singing that sweet familiar tune.

When he pulls down I dive with him, feeling the exhale of his body and the dancing twitch of muscles. I greatly anticipate the next push upward, my hands reaching to squeeze my breasts together. My panties are now soaked with moisture as I press and rub, bringing myself closer.

When he lifts again, his thrust is a wee bit faster. He’s either getting used to my weight on his groin, or the adrenaline of the beast that I’ve been teasing allows him to push higher. He angles his hips into mine, serving my need, and gives me the friction I demand. His eyes meet mine and pure darkness devours me within them.

I am in so much fucking trouble, but it’s so worth it.

“Oh Henry, you’re making me so wet.”

I moan his name, rubbing myself on his cock at a demanding speed while he lifts up and down. My clit tingles, swollen against his enormous bulge as that familiar wave begins to spread. He’s so hard, so painfully swollen, and so incapable of getting any release while I ride him into a powerful orgasm.

I clutch his thighs, desperate gasps spiralling out my mouth as the pleasure continues to hit my core. My nails dig deep into the hardened flesh but I can’t be bothered.

“Oh god…” I throw my head backwards, trying to adjust my breath while my legs are shaking around his wide waist. There’s still a throbbing hardness against my burning core, the angry drumming of blood pulsating against my opening.

I’m tempted to take my phone and capture his looks in my camera. But I’m in too much trouble as it is. Henry is drenched in sweat, upset in ways I’ve never seen in my life. He's done with his workout for today, no doubt about that.

“Are you done?” he asks me with a frown.

I lick my lips and lift myself up, knees nearly giving up as my legs are still numb from the intensity of pleasure. I let out a provoking giggle, putting my finger between my teeth, knowing he likes that gesture. This is my favourite battle, control. He enjoys superiority with his physical power, but every now and then I sweep the rug beneath his feet. And though he loves it when I am his good girl, sprawling and letting him take what he wants, when I am bad, the beast is willing to split my ass in half.

Guess I won this round.

Henry unbuckles the harness from his waist as I step back. He takes the towel from the bench and wipes his face. My eyes fixate on the still hard swelling in his nether area. I could offer to take care of it for him, but I am not feeling this generous right now. Better keep his stamina for home, so I can actually get me a proper shag in a nice, clean bed with a nice, clean husband that doesn’t smell like an entire rugby team.

“Go wait in the reception.” he demands, his tone anything but sweet right now.

“Don’t take too long.” I demand in return as I turn around, flipping back my hair and letting it slide down my ass. I can hear his frustrated groan behind me, just before I leave the room. It makes me lose myself in a burst of chuckles.

~*~

Henry meets me downstairs, a serious expression on his face. His gaze doesn’t meet mine, letting me know that unlike myself, he is vastly unamused. He takes my wrist in his big hand and leads me outside while smiling to bid bored receptionist goodbye.

I am forced to follow his large strides. Being a tall man, every step of his is equal to three small ones of mine. Even though it seems like his “problem” subsided, he’s not exactly interested in waiting.

He’d always be tender in his behaviour towards me, a respectful gentleman who knows how to treat women. Sure, he can rearrange a guy’s skull, but he never raised his voice at me. He’d take a walk outside the house and then return to so we can have a talk like adults.

But this is not a fight. This is but our favourite little war. Ongoing from the day we met.

I notice that we are not going to the car. Instead, he leads me to a narrow, dark space between two buildings. I can smell the damp sidewalk, the scent of earlier rain filling my nose. This spot is anything but romantic or erotic, with street cats screeching at the back and the sounds of trash cans being hit as they bounce on top of the lids.

Finally, he towers above me. His hand lets go of mine and hold it open in front of me with a demanding look in his eyes.

“Take off your panties.”

I let out a bemused laugh, dry and short as I am uncertain of his odd demand. But he holds out his hand at the stern request, motioning for me to do as I’m told.

“Here?!” I ask, looking around to see if there is anyone who might be a voyeur on our little engagement. The last thing I need is our agents scolding us again for photos of us being inappropriate in public places. Gretchen swears we make these mess on purpose. We kinda do, because we can’t keep away from one another.

“You want another one of your fancy pairs turned into rubbish?” he threatens.

I comply, breathing out like a brat and leaning down to take off my underwear for him. I place it in his hand and move back against the wall, anticipating his next move. I guess “Cavill and wife caught doing cardio after the gym!” could be a funny headline, better than the one at the hotel at the Academy Awards.

Henry folds the small material in his hand, holding it in his fist as if it’s something he can actually squeeze, before shoving it into his pocket. He grabs something else in exchange. I hear the chink of his car keys, dangling between his fingers as he offers them to me.

“You drive.”

There are no explanations, nor can I make anything of his behaviour. My man is willed with the control of his emotions. To outburst is to be weak, I am keen on that, my own terrible flaw. It only pisses me off more to see him keeping himself so relaxed while I am always the one who sees fire.

I follow his order, walking after him silently as he leads me to where he parked the car. Having no underwear beneath my short skirt is anything but convenient right now, especially when I have to enter the vehicle and crouch down.

I try fixing my skirt to cover myself, feeling the leather of the seat beneath my ass and other regions while Henry begins messing with the music player. I can see the small smirk at the corner of his lip, it’s evident that he’s having himself a good time knowing how uncomfortable I am at this very moment.

I roll my eyes at him and try closing my knees together as much as I can while stepping my foot on the gas.

He puts on Queens of the Stone Age and takes the passenger seat back, remembering he needs more legroom than I usually require. His head turns to face me, his lips sucked into his mouth in a cunning gesture.

“Had yourself a good time?”

His hand reaches toward my knee, grazing at the bone with featherlike movements. It tickles, I am forced to move my knee from him involuntarily, but he keeps it in place, resting his entire large hand on my kneecap.

“I’m driving…” I warn him, keeping my hands on the wheel and my eyes on the road.

I can tell he is smirking wickedly, his eyes staring at the road ahead of us carefully and then back at me. His fingers make their way up my thigh, snakelike on my bare skin. His palm is large and warm, pressing onto my inner thigh while his thumb draws invisible circles on my skin.

“Henry…” I warn again, feeling cool air blowing against my lips as he forces my legs to part wider for him. “You’ll get us killed!”

“Then focus on the road.” he commands, licking his lips. His fingers meet my wetness in a touch so tender it’s almost a phantasm, yet still there, undoubtedly making me swallow a sigh and squirm slightly in my seat. It’s as if he is testing the water first, a slight brush before plunging in and damn if he doesn’t push into me with his fingers, pressing three of his large digits to massage my heat.

“Fuck!”

I am fighting to keep my eyes open, my hands clutching at the steering wheel while my left foot kicks at the floor.

“Maybe we should stop.” I suggest, nearly pleading.

“Keep driving, we’re almost home.” he answers, sounding relaxed. The amused grin has vanished from his face, replaced with the severeness of pride and triumph.

He strokes my cunt between his fingers in a tight grip, his fingers running up and down, playing with my wetness, smearing it across his hand before plunging two of his knuckles inside me as we stop at a red light. I am very much aware that other drivers might see us, so does he, but he seems to care very little if anyone spots him pleasing his wife.

“Aww…” he mocks me, hearing the helpless cry that pushes out of my throat. “You shouldn’t have been such a bad little girl.” he teases some more, his fingers now plunging in and out with excitement. I allow myself to grind at the surface of his palm to achieve more friction at the base of my clit so maybe we can finish this quickly before the light is green.

But he’s the one in charge of my satisfaction now. He holds his hand further, so I will have none of it and keeps the stimulation only at the rim of my cunt, his fingers circling my entrance.

“Too bad you had to tease me like that.” he murmurs in his low voice, his fingers slowly withdrawing and only his thumb grants my clit with a small tender brush.

“Now you’ll have to wait, and be a good girl for daddy.”

I let out another cry, arching toward the wheel and biting on my lips. It's not out of pleasure, but out of torturous frustration as he withdraws completely. I give him a quick, infuriated stare, seeing how he sucks his fingers victoriously, enjoying every single drop of his sweet win.

Feeling slick between my thighs, I press slightly harder on the gas pedal, trying to get us home faster. Henry pumps the volume of the music player higher.

Watch you come from above

I'm so needy for love, I'm desperate,

Greedy in slavery I sneak around from behind I got a one track mind We got a skin on skin thing baby I want to lick you too much I hear you comin ooh aaaah baby

~*~

The moment we enter the house I lock the door and try to make my move but he has his hand on my throat in less than a second, squeezing not too tight, but tight enough to make a point. His blue eyes scan my face, his soft tongue slithering across the freckle of his lower lip with arousal.

“Get on your knees, little one. You’re not off the hook yet.”

I gasp at his fierceness, weak against his charisma and beauty. I stroke his face, still sticky with sweat from earlier, my fingers are gently smoothing against the stubbles on his high cheekbones and at the dimple of his chin.

“Please, daddy, just fuck me already,” I bargain.

“I’m wet and ready for you.”

“On your knees.” he repeats himself, his lips twitching to a small grin as he sees my defeat. His hand slightly releases my neck, his fingers pet my chin and jaw and finally entangle in my hair as I fall to my knees slowly, levelling myself at the height of his groin. His hand strokes my head lovingly, pressing my chin against his growing arousal as I look up to him with fake innocence.

“Are you gonna be good now?” he asks, his fingers twirling around my long hair lovingly.

“Yes, daddy.” I nod, waiting to have his cock in me, in any part of me. I want to touch myself so badly, my pussy throbs with desperate eagerness to be stuffed by his huge cock. .

“I want to see you crawl on fours and wait for me in the living room, babygirl.” he growls at me while discarding his blue top on the wooden floor, exposing his thick hairy chest.

“I want to look at your cunt as you move for me before I’ll destroy it. You’ve been such a nasty girl today.”

I shiver at his words, a shrill of air kicks out of my lungs at once. My toughness is down to non-existing. I let him have it, I let him have it all. I crawl on my knees and palms like a cat in heat, my ass exposed for him. My cunt drips with primal desire to be conquered by this menacing alpha. I stop for a moment and then look behind me. I see him kicking off his shoes, his sweats slipping down his thick thighs along with his briefs before he continues to follow me, holding his erection in his hand, massaging the base of his cock while looking at me to open wide for him.

I reach the furry white IKEA carpet in our living room and wait for him, still on all fours. His heavy footsteps make the wood creak beneath his weight which alerts me that he’s close. The heat of his body is near. I feel the aura of his body as he falls down to his knees carefully behind me.

His hands smooth against the curve of my ass, appreciating my shape to the point of worshipping my flesh. He takes the time to study again what he knows better than I do, trailing up to lift my skirt until it’s hiked around my belly. He then pushes my shirt, prompting me to take it off. Not an easy task to perform on all four limbs.

For one lingering moment, his hands roam across my body, massaging my muscles, pinching my nipples between his fingers. I moan beneath his large hands as he coaxes me into being his little plaything, succumbing to his will. Possessive fingers grip my shoulder and in a sudden movement, I’m pressed with my back down while Henry pushes my legs apart with his knees.

“I just love to look at your face when I fuck you, babygirl.” he explains, his hands pulling my legs violently against his hips to position me as he desires. That way, we can both enjoy the show of his cock slipping in and out of my slit.

I squirm beneath him, my hands reaching for his chest to stroke at the thick dark hair and hardened pecs. “Please, fuck me.” I beg to the point of whining as I look at his sturdy cock, admiring every vein and ridge that decorates his impressive size. Henry takes himself and begins to tease my entrance, making teasing groaning voices while I plea so weakly.

But that’s only to prepare me for his brutal invasion. He lets out a loud husky shout as he pushes in, penetrating me with such vulgarness, it takes the air out of my lungs. I am split in half, feeling how my body stretches immediately to bind itself to him.

My narrow slit tries to remain resilient while Henry keeps himself nested between my lush folds, a groan of pure pleasure vibrates through his glorious chest before he takes my jaw in his great hand and makes me look at him to see the sin in his eyes.

“Good girl…” he calls out in his deep low voice, pulling himself out slowly and then slamming back inside me in with a slippery wet slap. I gasp, my entire body shuddering in his veiny arms.

“Good girl.” He speaks again, letting the words roll and linger on his tongue.

His rhythm is somewhere between torturous to divine. When he pulls away he does it ever so slowly, watching with perverse fascination his own cock as it slides out my narrow entrance just before he slams back in. Henry promised that he will destroy me; he never breaks a promise. I already feel how my muscles are thrown into a paradox, trying to resist him yet have him deeper and deeper with each one of his amazing thrusts.

“Look at how you take me,” he calls in a guttural voice, urging me to look at our union. “You have such a tight succulent cunt, baby.”

It feels almost too sinful to stare, my entire existence shivers at the sight. His big beautiful cock enters me, slick with my juices as he increases the pace. I’m petite but with him inside I’m forced to expand, my body stealing his shape, embracing him with devotion, wanting him to be like this forever.

His wide thighs are placed right beneath my legs, his right hand silks its way down my hip and grips me roughly as he pounds me in increasing speed. With one hand still on my jaw, he presses his fingers to my mouth where I suck and bite at him. He always wants me to look at him, loves it when I’m hopeless beneath him when my mouth cries for him while he stuffs me with his cock, over and over again.

I squirm to meet his pelvis. He fucks me so raw that no actual words come out of my mouth but the mewls of a small, helpless animal instead. Being hunted for sport rather than eating. I grind my clit against his pubic bone to elicit more delightful friction, getting me closer and closer. But I’m stealing control and he’ll have none of that right now.

He shoves us down, pinning my hands against each side of my head while his groin is holding me down to the surface in complete captivity. I am hurting for a mere moment as he shoves too forcefully. His apology is a deep passionate kiss which he is forced to break as we both gasp for air with every merciless push of his loins into mine.

“Fuck babygirl!” He leans his forehead against mine, a feral gaze in his eyes. I lock my legs around his waist, my body losing every grip it ever had on control as the warmth begins to throb at the base of my cunt, spreading from my womb towards every nerve until I feel nothing but love flowing through my body.

I pant in awe, my voice adding to his deep growls and husky gasps which only become louder as his orgasm looms closer with the tightness of my cunt around his swelling cock. It sucks him harder, demanding his release, milking him of his offering until he shudders through me and yells out my name.

The gush of warmth that spills inside me is my second favorite thing in the world. I moan with sweet delight as his cream coats me inside.

“I love you so much.” he whispers, holding me in his protective embrace as if to apologize for fucking me so hard.

I’d imagine that after such a long time together he’d already figure it out that I’m the one provoking it.

“What’s the name of that device again?.. the one I was…”

“Glute drive.”

“Glute drive, yeah, we’ll do that again soon…” I suggest, nibbling at his ear playfully while he remains on top of me.

~*~

Song lyrics are by Queens of the Stone Age - Skin on Skin

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill Fanfiction #Henry Cavill x OFC #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill x reader

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surveillance-0011 · 3 years

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TBOI Headcanons: Horsemen

Death

He/him

He’s...nice. Not a good person by any means but he’s the most polite of the bunch. Kind of strange though. Creepily calm, a bit sarcastic, and he has a pretty morbid view on the world.

Reserved and usually grumpy. He can be rather chipper off-duty, though. Putting up with the others takes a lot of energy from him.

Tired....

A bit neurotic but good at coming off as a down-to-earth guy.

He’s the most book-smart of the bunch and he’s fairly wise. A bit emotionally stunted, but he tries his best to be mature and make the right choices.

Death is more than a bit nihilistic and pessimistic. He has a hard time just... caring, mostly about himself.

Not to say he’s completely apathetic, he can be pretty empathetic but he tries not to act on that too much because if he did his job would have broken him by now.

He likes to think he’s got it all under control, but he does not. He’s more prone to pettiness and stupid decisions than he’d like to admit.

That being said he’s been pretty good with like. Growing and maturing though. He’s changed more than he realizes in just in the past.... decade or so ago. A bit of a late start for an immortal but hey at least he’s slightly less of a scumbag.

It’s usually not easy to anger him unless he’s really tired or something’s already set him off. When something does piss him off badly he’s a bit prone to freaking out. He’s not very good at handling his emotions.

Sees his own job as a necessary evil, because hey, someone’s gotta do it.

Interested in botany/gardening, as well as literature.

Genuinely nice- or at least polite- to the kids when he’s not supposed to be murdering them. He sees no reason to go out of his way to do so, especially since unwarranted cruelty towards others has only bit him in the ass.

Famine’s older brother. The two have always had each other’s backs.

Diligent, and always considers the logistics to things instead of acting on emotion alone.

Protective of the other horsemen.

Pretty short tbh

His horse’s name is Chili.

Famine

She/he (bigender). You can use both interchangeably or only use one set, she doesn’t care. Fine with they/them too but it’s never really clicked w/ him enough to be preferred.

Usually prefers more masculine terms (brother, sir, mr...) but fine with anything.

.Flips between bouncing off the walls and having no energy whatsoever.

Impulsive, she’s got terrible judgement and has the most idiotic of ideas sometimes.

Fairly easygoing, tries to forgive and forget and doesn’t let little transgressions get to her

Actually pretty damn sad. Needs some self care but never looks after herself.

I mean she’s optimistic and usually happy but like. There’s always just a bit of sadness, you know? He’s dealt with a lot and it’s definitely taken its toll on him.

Disaster Lesbian

Tries to be a graceful loser but she can get a bit more competitive than she’d like to admit.

Has a hard time relating to others and considering how they feel, at least when it comes to anything more complex than “bad thing happened now I’m sad/mad” He’s a drifter by nature, always onto the next big thing for a quick thrill.

Eats a lot. It’s never enough.

Plants and a good deal of food will decay if she touches them, or even gets too close to them.

Like his brother he has some interest in nature. Famine is more on the adventurous side, though. She’s tried to live off the land a few times with varying success.

Named her horse Frisk

Pestilence

He/him

Calm, quiet, but also a pessimistic jackass.

Always in a bad mood. I mean, he’s permanently sick with just about everything contagious and deadly. You’d be grumpy, too!

Surprisingly high pain tolerance. A good deal of his nerves have probably just.. shut down or something. Or maybe he’s just numb to everything after a lifetime of pain.

Sleeps a lot

Dislikes his situation a lot, but doesn’t mind the company of the others.

Lazarus is terrified of this dude. The other kids are mostly grossed out or annoyed by him.

Likes to be alone.

Fairly smart, but comes off as absent minded bc he’s pretty much too sick to function. He slips up a lot and he’s pretty damn clumsy

Probably the most rational of the bunch, when he’s not in airplane mode.

He’s also got a fairly strong moral compass. He doesn’t really like fighting the kids unlike War and Famine. Or just having to go up against people in general. Hell he hates the fact people get sick because of him. At the very least Pest has higher standards and is fairly transparent

But that isn’t to say he’s a good person. Yeah he doesn’t go out of his way to hurt others for shits and giggles and He’s Not Conquest but he doesn’t ever object to any of the shit the kids are put through and well. Yknow he still does kill them. He will also encourage some of War’s antics when it’s against someone he dislikes.

Tries to be as supportive as he can for the others. He knows he can’t do too much without overexerting so he tries to be encouraging and comforting as he can.

This compassion usually isn’t extended to humans, though.

Not very emotive, the only emotions he ever really expresses would be disdain and mild concern.

Not very fond of Conquest but they don’t hate each other. They actually work together well, too.

Friends with Mahalath. They’re pretty close!

His horse’s name is Moses.

War

He/it

He’s not very friendly, he’s pretty defensive and always on edge.

Out of all the horsemen, he’s probably the one closest with the Beast.

Lots of scars n injuries, it’s practically stitched together

One gold tooth

Impulsive, prefers solving issues through violence than through reason.

He can be fairly clever, though.

Intentionally angers/upsets others, likes causing problems and ruining things for people.

Desires wealth and power

Gets burnt out pretty quickly.

Emotional, insecure, and sensitive, and he hates this part of him. Definitely overcompensates for it.

Explosive temper, quite literally. Catches fire when upset and explodes if it’s more intense. Damage done to him also makes it happen. It’s not entirely voluntary but can be held off, and his “sobbing” sprite is him doing exactly that (but he’s probably also trying not to cry lmao). In the Ultra War fight, however...

Its daily routine leaves a lot to be desired. It wakes up, goes to work, then it goes home and just. Sits and rots.

Also, his diet is god awful. Please just eat a fruit or vegetable for once maybe you’d feel better goddamn.

He cannot remember if his horse is actually a horse or not but uhh he named her Bellum.

Conquest

He/they.

High and mighty sort of attitude. Can be very selfish. Stubborn, set in his ways. Gets defensive if you call him out or tell him he’s wrong.

Gay + nonbinary but in the closet (and denial) about both of those things. They’re trying to unlearn years’ worth of internalized bigotry.

Used to be worse, now trying to unlearn his toxic behaviors. But he’s still awful.

Doesn’t remember anything before their death. However they’ve held very strong Christian (specifically Catholic) beliefs all their life and they have a pretty black and white way of thinking.

Very cold and clinical. He has a bit of a temper but there’s a sort of calmness to everything he does even when he’s pissed.

Just as argumentative and aggressive as War but like more of a threat.

The others call him Connie sometimes, especially Death, who practically almost always calls him by this nickname.

Doesn’t harbor ill will towards Pestilence. They might have been overshadowed, but it’s not Pestilence’s own fault. If anything, being out of the spotlight has been good for Conquest, even if they do miss the attention sometimes. The only reason the two dislike each other is because their personalities clash.

Now if there’s anyone he hates that would be the Headless Horseman. Fuck that guy amiright

Very protective of Death. The two are close, Death is probably the only person who is consistently nice to him.

Utterly terrified of needles (hypodermic, not sewing needles, though he’s not good with sharp objects tbh) and medical stuff makes him anxious

Seems very... off. Just weird vibes but no one can pin point what about him is wrong.

Oh uh and his horse’s name is Josephine.

#the binding of isaac #binding of isaac #tboi conquest #tboi death #tboi war #tboi pestilence #tboi famine #tboi headcanons #long post #some of this is tentative but for the most part this is just. here to stay

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vegetalass · 3 years

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If you come back to this, would you consider doing hcs for the rdr2 boys coping with bad breakups? 👀🙈💖👉👈😳

I love your stuff btw! Hope the hiatus is going well and you're having fun being absorbed into new fandom stuff <3

JSKajhdhajfskhjdkajsh AHHHHHHHHHHH YOU ARE TOO SWEET WTF🥺🥺So I just went ahead and wrote this request for you LOOOOOL😎💘😳🤠

even tho I would still say I’m on hiatus.... I was just thinking about Mister Arthur Morgan today and how much i want to sit on his lap and hug him and kiss his cheeks and hold his face against my chest.... So I figure this is as good a time as any to write some stuff for rdr2...

Plus... I really am happy about the fact that people like my work enough to still send me asks!!! I miss the rdr2 fandom a lot tbh because as I’m sure you all have been know... The bnha fandom is a little..... wack tbh..... But regardless, I am having as much fun as i possibly can under the circumstances!!! Theres a lot of good content there...

and just in case u like bnha... you can actually find me at @ihatebnha if you want to read any of my current BNHA stuff (tho im sorta taking a break there too temporarily). Either way, even if you don’t, i appreciate u all for sticking with me and I MISS U GUYS so i hope this does u all some justice!

anyway... i hope this is what you were looking for because I LOVE UUUUUU!! ENJOY💚🧡❤️

Arthur

First of all………. If you break up with Arthur I personally will come beat you up

Secondly….

Honestly, he probably just goes completely numb

He doesn’t have the emotional stability or strength to handle unpacking how or why it’s happening

You ask to break up with him and his soul leaves his body and he’s just “Ok.🙂Whatever you think is best, baby.”

And that’s the end of it. Won’t even let you explain.

This means don’t prank him by pretending to break up with him either because you’ll accidentally kill him

Like he genuinely probably thinks that he deserves whatever it is that made you want to break up with him and that there’s really nothing he can do to feel better about it

Even if was just something like, long distance problems or needing a break

This also hurts so badly because I feel like… getting to the point where Arthur even wants to date you takes FOREVER… He really really needs to trust and love the person who he’s with…

And so to see them leave would just break his heart up into pieces and he wouldn’t be able to handle that all over again

He just… becomes a ghost

Anyone from the gang even mentions it or asks how he is and he just tells them he’s fine and doesn’t need to talk about it

Even if he really is aching deep down… He just can’t bring himself to talk about it because it still doesn’t make any sense to him

And honestly, he just doesn’t want things to hurt any more than they already do by acknowledging them or facing them head on

So he just submits to it all being his fault, it was the right thing to do, that you’re happier without him, etc. and permanently shuts himself off

If you left him, that would be the absolute final straw and he would just throw himself into his work and never look back

And honestly wouldn’t even notice if someone else was making moves on you, that’s how out of it he is.

You wouldn’t even notice something was wrong unless you TRULY knew Arthur

He’s a tough cookie

John

John is the guy who acts like he’s fine if anyone sees him but cries 24/7 when he’s alone

If anyone asks him about it he’s like “I don’t care, it’s fine and I respect their decision… I’m a man, not a baby.”

But the truth is…. Sir… You ARE baby

Honestly…. He’s just saying all that so people don’t really know how much he’s hurting or think he’s weak and try to help

And in a modern setting, Abigail, Arthur, Hosea, anyone really, can’t go to his apartment because he’s lost all motivation to take care of himself

Dishes piled up, laundry everywhere, he’s been wearing the same pajamas for a week, his trash is full of microwave meal packages… It’s just so fucking bad

Single Man Shit

Probably goes through bouts of rage too

Was he not good enough? Did you think you weren’t good enough? Was it the fact that he has Abigail and Jack? Is he too ugly for someone pretty like you?

It’s in these moments that he starts throwing stuff around and kicking chairs and whatnot

I imagine it’s all pretty nonviolent but he still just wants to make a mess to release all that pent up frustration

But he always just ends up on the floor or in bed crying again because he really doesn’t understand what went wrong since he was trying so hard to be a good partner

He wanted to be good for you :(

At least to make up for what he did to Abigail

Probably a couple months after the breakup he starts feeling better…

Picks his laundry up and does the dishes and starts to open up to the gang again

He’s definitely still sad when he thinks about it all… But he knows he’ll get over it as long as you seem happy from afar

If any of the other boys from camp try to make a move on you, he does his best to ignore it… Knowing it’s not his place to speak for you anymore, even if seeing you with someone else does make him sad

And he probably takes some extra time to spend with Abigail and Jack, too

There’s really no one like your family (even if they’re chosen) to make you feel better in situations like this

(Especially since they went through the same thing as him BY him)

Karma’s a bitch, lol

Charles

Charles... My love….. My baby…….

He takes a while to fall apart because honestly, he’s just so confused

He definitely does not recover quickly, but of course, appears to function kind of normally

If anything, he just gets more quiet and distant than before, simply because he needs a lot of time and space to think about everything

And because looking at you hurts so badly

When you mention breaking up, he probably just stands up and walks away

And if you chase after him trying to explain, he’ll tell you that you don’t need to justify yourself, and that he just needs to be alone

However, deep down, he’s gutted and really just needs the space to process what you said and then calm down

He doesn’t want to face the gang, and possibly you, again, crying, hence why he doesn’t come back for a while, but he knows that he can’t just run away from everything

He never thought that you’d be capable of hurting him in the way that you did

And he wonders what the final straw that pushed you over the edge was

He definitely saw you staying together for a long time, and had a lot of ideas for your future, so the breakup was especially surprising and devastating for that reason alone

And he would probably never want to speak to you again

Not really because he hated you, but because it would be too emotional for him to be around you knowing you didn’t feel the same as him

And even though he’s okay with emotions, the gang just isn’t exactly the right space for him to deal with them

Though he probably eventually talks about it with Arthur after a couple months, once he finds another normal, and bonds with him over the shared experience

He would never be able to ask you this, but he wonders if the reason you left him was for the same reasons he’s shunned in society

I think that would hurt him the most… if you didn’t want to be seen with him in public

Even though he knows that it’s unlikely, since he didn’t want to hear your reasons for leaving, it’s something that he thinks about

Even if it would hurt him to see you with someone else, he wouldn’t do anything about it

And as always, he’d just stay quiet, watching

Micah

Micah blames you

Everything is your fault. Everything.

Oh, you want to break up with him? When he’s been so nice to you? So good? He’d literally do anything for you, and you’re not happy with that? You’re such an ungrateful bitch! Fuck you! He never even wanted to date you in the first place, so it’s your fault for making him love you. Sorry he tried soooo hard.

Any semblance of sadness he feels about losing you turns to rage so quickly since he just really cannot fathom why you’d leave him

Genuinely thinks he’s the best boyfriend you’ve ever had and ever will

SIR…????

Despite his anger, he probably is sad deep down… He just doesn’t really recognize it as sadness in the first place

His chest aches when he thinks about you? His eyes sting and burn when he looks at you? His stomach hurts at any and every thought of you?

You’re just an ugly witch who wants him dead.

He has never felt any of these things before, and frankly, he hates feeling like this.

And absolutely refuses to admit to himself that maybe… MAYBE… he just misses you and wants you back…

Honestly though, you will never get word nor wind of this, and before long, he really just does start to hate you.

If you weren’t in the gang, and were ever in a situation where you saw him again, he’d try to make your life a hell.

He’d tease you in front of whoever you were with, talking about how he’s probably the best fuck you’d ever have and that “if you still wanted to fuck him,” he “wouldn’t blame you…” and might even think about it going at it on more time

In a modern setting, he’s definitely a hate fucking type of ex

And if he ever saw you with a new boy, he would probably try to lay some hands on them for even thinking about touching you

AND STILL doesn’t realize that this means he still loves you… But whatever

If you break up with him, guaranteed you’re probably never getting back together

Dutch

Dutch is a tough one… I feel like it really depends on how long you’ve been together, the reason why you want to breakup, and how much value he has for the you and relationship itself

I think he’d be more upset about a long term relationship ending than anything and he’d definitely try to argue with you about any of the problems you bring up

He definitely hits you with the, “you should’ve known what you were getting into,” which, honestly, is a pretty fair point

He doesn’t actually want you to leave him, though… He just doesn’t really want to change

Which is why the whole thing ends up being so T O X I C

But if he realizes that you are actually serious about breaking up, he isn’t above saying that he’ll put the work into fixing everything

Though that’s kind of a lie, since he’s mostly just saying it to get you to stay

If the argument gets too intense, he’ll let you walk away

But only because he’s going to brainstorm about how to get you back

I’m sure this is a given, but none of the other boys at camp are allowed to even think about getting close to you

It wasn’t so bad when you and Dutch were still together, but if he wants you back, everyone is a threat

Arthur and John are given direct orders to not even comfort you… And Dutch even tries to get Miss Grimshaw to be mean to you

At least so he can swoop in and save you… Thinking that you’ll run right back into his arms if no one except him is nice to you

Because that’s where you belong

If he doesn’t manage to succeed in winning you back, the moment he realizes that everything is over, he will 100% start ignoring you

And don’t put it past him to try show off the fact that he’s found someone new to fuck

Honestly, since he’s the leader, at this point, he’d probably just be looking for a good way to get rid of you

Nothing violent, just find a little brothel he can pop you in when the gang’s about to leave some random town

Seems like a good idea to him… Since if he’s not special, no one is.

Same reason why, if you cheat on him, you will never see the whites of his eyes again

Much less anyone from the gang

Kieran

To give Kieran some credit... He’s probably the most in touch with his emotions

He doesn’t respond very well to the breakup, just says okay and lets you walk away, but he’s not above accepting the truth and just crying about it for a while

First and foremost, you need to be happy, even if it means without him

Part of him wants to beg for you to stay so badly… Hold onto the bottom of your shirt and cry… But I know that he probably thinks he doesn’t deserve to and would be able to stop himself

Obviously, you know better than him about everything so why would you be wrong about breaking up?

His work definitely lags and he ends up spending more time with the animals than anyone else, but he’s okay at holding himself together

No one would even know he’s still suffering unless they talked to him about it

Which they don’t, really, and honestly he’s sort of glad, because it gives him a lot of time to think about everything

Which is why, even months after the breakup, if he hasn’t found someone new, he still thinks about what it would be like if you stayed

Daydreams about cuddling with you, about dancing with you, about brushing the horses with you, starting a family, everything…

He wishes it were his so badly

And so seeing you with another boy, especially if it were someone else at camp, would absolutely kill him

And yet, he’d still manage to keep it all to himself. Nothing but his greedy eyes left

Self esteem gone forever… He’d take you back in a heartbeat

Doesn’t help that the poor baby definitely gets clowned by Dutch and Micah about not being able to keep “a good fuck” around

It really hurts… But in the end, he knows they’re right

Javier

Javier probably gets over everything the quickest out of all of the boys.

I just see him as having the most romantic experience out of all of them, so he understands how relationships (and breakups) work

His logic is, why would he want to be with someone who doesn’t want to be with him?

Which makes getting over you faster than normal

Especially since, regardless of why you wanted to leave, he’s going to respect your wishes

Definitely a little peeved at first though because he thought things were fine between the two of you

He’s just not going to bother trying to get you to stay

Especially since he knows that he can be kind of flirty with people even when he’s with you

That being said, if he sees any of the other boys at camp trying to get with you, he’s going to be BIG MAD

First of all, he was there first, so they should know better than to touch someone else’s things

And second of all, it would just feels like they’re showing off the fact that you left him, rather than the other way around

But honestly, he probably wouldn’t care if you found a stranger to mess with. It’s not like they know your relationship history, and honestly, he knows it wouldn’t be fair if he were ever to find someone else he likes.

So he’s fine watching you run around

It’s only ever late at night, if it’s been a while since you’ve spoken to him, or he’s feeling lonely, that he thinks about what things would be like if you were still with him

He wonders what really made you leave, and if you were honest with him during the relationship

Overall, he’d be okay, but would definitely still be down to fuck if you ever wanted! You may not want to be with each other anymore, but it doesn’t change the fact you guys had some bomb ass sex

Sean

Sean is another boy who’s going to be a bit more angry than sad

That being said, he’s no where near as bad as Micah and knows that the anger comes from the sadness

He’s just extremely frustrated that things didn’t work out, and resents the fact that you didn’t even want to try and fix things with him

It’s not like he really blames you for that… But he wishes that he could

Especially since throughout it all, even now, he doesn’t actually hate you, and still wishes that you would come back

He’s knows his personality can be a little overwhelming, but he would’ve been willing to change if it made you happy!

But honestly, since he doesn’t need to anymore, everything about him just gets a bit… Worse

Constantly making a show of showing off for the other girls at camp, always trying to flirt with the girls at the saloon, talking the boys’ heads off about anything and everything…

Just to distract himself and prove that he’s doing fine… That you didn’t hurt him at all, and he doesn’t need you

But even he’s not all that convinced

If any of the other boys at camp start messing around with you, he’ll definitely start a fight with them, feeling like were just doing it to piss him off

He’d lose, though, and would end up just going to bed and crying.

If he saw you flirting with a stranger, he’d be equally as mad, but he probably wouldn’t do anything other than get super drunk in front of you to ruin the mood

Eventually he starts feeling more like himself, and it definitely helps if you don’t treat him weirdly, but he finds that he does still think of you when he sees cute married girls or children, wondering what he would’ve had if things didn’t go wrong.

Especially since he also gets teased by the gang for not being able to hold it down… Despite his constant talk

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 headcanons #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 headcanons #rdr2 #rdr2 x reader #I HOPE THIS IS WHAT U WANTED #ur ask was just so sweet i had to write something for it #and this was fun #anon #ask #Anonymous

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bloopbyoop · 3 years

Text

weep woop

ayo. ive read my scheduled email and its time for freewriting shit again. lmao. I want this post to be like a small light from a lit match stick inside a very hollow, icy, and numbing cave. (sounds cartoonish right? I know. Im obsessed with Adventure Time.) I want all people to be genuinely happy. Spiritually, emotionally, and physically. Upon reaching my 24th anniversary in this world, I finally learned how to truly embrace all my emotions. Some are more overwhelming than the other, but we have to heed in our treacherous yet perplexing minds that everything is fleeting and we are in control. The feeling of extreme sadness fades, but so does joyful states. Everything can change in a matter of minutes or years. You are in control of all your emotions. You are in control of all your life choices. Your actions. Your words. Your perspective. It feels weird to actually write about it. I've wanted to talk about it. I never wanted help from anyone as I firmly believed that I was alone. Sure, I have a family and friends, but it is hard to see that when your head is clouded with negativity. I've even come to the point where I was too overwhelmed, I found being physically hurt less painful. The pain I felt distracted me from what I was thinking. My mind tended to go bonkers. lmao. But bro, I was so good at concealing my bonkers mind. It's easy to fake any emotion that you have. Slap anything sunshine-y or happy to anything and people would believe you. It went on for years. Long story short, thousands of bracelets collected, it became worse. The physical pain could no longer withhold the emotional pain. Couldn't sleep. Couldn't stop thinking. And voila! I found a good amount of self help books (from tumblr) and novels. Novels that brought me to different places. Self-help books that made me understand what I feel and what to do. I've read that taking the easy way out will leave everyone sad. AND IN THE FIRST PLACEEEEEE, I NEVER WANT THATTTTTTT. I want everyone to be happy. I would act foolish and do dumb shit to make everyone happy in a heartbeat. So, that idea made me push a few more years. Later on, the crippling shit came crawling back again to my head, sooooooo I needed new shit to keep me distracted again. Films, series, music, and short clips from YouTube helped me out a lot. Every single time that my mind is going to think like anything that can think of, even to the point that I was just going to think that I might be hungry, I'd watch something. There's just something about silence for me. Because of this new habit of mine, I've learned more about myself. I love different types of things. I like horror. I like thriller. I like comedy. I like romance. I love all types of films, but there is something about the horror genre that interests me. I still can't point out what, but I love watching horror films. With regards to music, I've learned that I love Indie, Punk Rock, Rap, and Pop. We all can't like a specific genre. It's stupid to ask "what genre of music do you like?". It's not actually stupid-stupid, it's just stupid. Ya know? Anyway, passing this phase, I needed to find something again because it's not doing the shit that it was supposed to, I tried investing more time on video games. By investing more, I mean a whole shit lot. I love video games since I was young cuz.... u know.... they keep u... try to guess it! oh yeah. you got that right! distracted! I love the aggressive plays and trashtalks that my friends and I make. The short stories we tell one another. The rants. The lame jokes. The late night we sound drunk but we are not drunk jokes. The roleplays. The lame jokes. The memes. And once again, The lame jokes. Something about lame jokes and the laughs and curses after that always gets me every single time. Oh shoot. Yup Yup. Few years later, I finally noticed the pattern that my sadness is temporary. I got over it one way or the other (or another. depends on how you wanna read it. i dont wanna say another cause i might write about one direction like what im doing now so-). Happiness is temporary as well. But, we are the ones who are actually in control of our emotions. If you wanna feel sad, be sad for a while. You're getting too sad? Try hanging out with your funny friends. Can't do that? Find an alternative. Watch a movie, knit a sweater. Anything your mind could think of as long as it will keep you mentally distracted from being physically and mentally hurt. I do have a few notes though. We cannot and should never assume what people are going through. It may be petty for you, but it may be very crucial to them. So never everrrr say things like: -Some people have it worse than you -At least you have ..... These sheetsss are annoying as heckkk and could really down someone. I know it is not your intention to annoy but people react differently. alsooooooo, it is not okay or normal to hate on things for bandwagon. that is just plainly crazy and stupid. let people enjoy things. anddddddd never suppress your emotions. admit what you feel inside and try to think of a way to resolve ittttt. keeping it to yourself will just make it worseeeeee. find your own outlettttttttt. hihihi ️ alsooooo. being more spiritually full with God's words and ideas really help me to be spiritually happy. ps. im christian but i dont discredit other religion and even applaud other religion's ideas and beliefs. this is a really long, selfish post so i might as well recommend some things I like : Songs with their lyrics that made me go through life. “I’ve got soul but I’m not a soldier” -All These Things That I've Done, The Killers “It's not too late, I'm still right here” -Breaking Your Own Heart, Kelly Clarkson "And the salt in my wounds / Isn't burning any more than it used to / It's not that I don't feel the pain / It's just I'm not afraid of hurting anymore / And the blood in these veins / Isn't pumping any less than it ever has / And that's the hope I have / The only thing I know that's keeping me alive" -Last Hope, Paramore “There is not a single word in the whole world / That could describe the hurt / The dullest knife just sawing back and forth / And ripping through the softest skin there ever was / How were you to know?” -Hate to See Your Heartbreak, Paramore "It's holding on, though the road's long / And seeing light in the darkest things And when you stare at your reflection / Finally knowing who it is / I know that you'll thank God you did" -1800, Logic "Did some things you can't speak of / But at night you live it all again / You wouldn't be shattered on the floor now / If only you had seen what you know now then" -Innocent, Taylor Swift (My bb) "10 months sober, I must admit / Just because you're clean don't mean you don't miss it / 10 months older, I won't give in / Now that I'm clean I'm never gonna risk it // Rain came pouring down when I was drowning / That's when I could finally breathe / And by morning gone was any trace of you, I think I am finally clean" -Clean, Taylor Swift “I guess I always knew / That I had all the strength to make it through.” -Believe in Me, Demi Lovato "I'm addicted to the madness / I'm a daughter of the sadness / I've been here too many times before / Been abandoned and I'm scared now / I can't handle another fallout / I am fragile, just washed upon the shore / They forget me, don't see me / When they love me, they leave me" -I Hate You, Don’t Leave Me, Demi Lovato “I'm overwhelmed / I need a voice to echo / I need a light to take me home / I need a star to follow / I don't know” -Nightingale, Demi Lovato "I'm a walking travesty / But I'm smiling at everything. // Arrogant boy, Love yourself so no one has to." -Therapy, All Time Low "I tried it once before but I didn't get too far / I felt a lot of pain but it didn't stop my heart. / But maybe I'm alive 'cause I didn't really wanna die / But nothing very special ever happens in my life / Take the blade away from me I am a freak, I am afraid that / All the blood escaping me won't end the pain / And I'll be haunting all the lives that cared for me / I died to be the white ghost / Of the man that I was meant to be" -Ghost, Badflower "Are the pieces of you / In the pieces of me? / I'm just so scared / You're who I'll be / When I erupt / Just like you do / They look at me / Like I look at you" -DNA, Lia Marie Johnson Movies and series to try : -The Perks of Being a Wallflower (The book is bomb af. if yall havent tried, ur missing out) -The Kings of Summer -Never Let Me Go -The Art of Getting By -Silver Linings Playbook -Winter’s Bone -The Lovely Bones (The script. The words) -Me and Earl and the Dying Girl -American Horror Story -Black Swan

pps. remember that every one has their own pace and point of view. don’t push yourself too hard, and don’t overthink. give yourself time, and respect all your emotions. analyze them but not more than like 5 minutes as anything beyond that might cause you to overthink and be sadder. and sad is not rad. hehe. you got this. you got you. self love is the best even though it can be tricky to do. nobody else is like you. you’re the only one of you (i just remembered me.......... i might have hummed it while typing it mid sentence). consider other people’s opinion but do not let it cloud your own judgement as you know yourself best. dont let other comment’s define you. spread love. vibe people you vibe with. ayeeee lets go!!!

ppps this is my last post bc im happier now and know myself better. i no longer limit myself on the age that I want. I want to live as long as how God wants me to be. hehe.

x :D

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goth-surana · 3 years

Text

Hope and Hopelessness

Chapter 1 of 3

Main pairing: Anders/Male Hawke

Main tags: Angst with a happy ending, tranquil!Anders, cure for tranquility

Summary: After some time on the run with Hawke, Anders is caught and made tranquil. Hawke cannot bring himself to kill him, instead chasing a distant hope that there may be a cure.

Read on AO3 or below the cut

Hawke trudged through the forest with his silent companion following. Another dead end, another shady mage visited. There were plenty now that the war was in full swing.

Anders probably wouldn’t have been happy that Hawke went to a blood mage for help, but… well, he was getting desperate.

There had been rumors now, of a cure. Whispers. Some said the knowledge sparked more fighting, and made the war spread faster. But so far Hawke had found nothing but the whispers.

Hawke would not give up, not now that there was a possibility of a cure for tranquility. There was a possibility to get Anders back. There had better be…

“We should rest for today,” came a monotone voice that Hawke had gotten painfully used to.

“We can walk until nightfall,” said Hawke, even though his legs burned.

“You cannot, Hawke,” Anders replied evenly. “The fight took too much out of you. We must rest.”

Hawke looked over to see Anders regarding him with the same blank expression he now always wore.

“Fine,” Hawke admitted, leaning against a tree in defeat. He wanted to go longer, to get closer to the next lead. Amaranthine.

Anders began to set up camp, efficient as always.

“We don’t need to go to Amaranthine,” Anders told him. “The Wardens likely know nothing of tranquility.”

“Varric said the Hero of Ferelden would be there. She’s been missing for a long time and she might know more than most Wardens.”

“Why does Varric know where the Hero of Ferelden is?” Anders asked, sitting down to begin lighting the fire. He hadn’t been very good at it at first, without magic… but he learned fast.

“Some Inquisition shit,” Hawke replied. “I think the hero’s lover is with them.”

“Leliana,” said Anders. “That’s her name. I am surprised Varric wants to help us at all, after what I did.”

Hawke sighed. “He’s angry, but… he doesn’t want you like this.”

“Nobody does,” said Anders. “They either want me how I was or they want me dead. The first option is very unlikely, you know. You do not need to keep protecting me from those who want the latter.”

Hawke didn’t have the energy to feel the way his heart ached anymore. It was a constant background noise, and he was weary of it. But he couldn’t stop feeling, so he just… got used to it.

“I love you, Anders,” Hawke said without as much heart as he would have liked. More of a gentle reminder.

“You don’t love me like this.”

Hawke wanted to curl up and cry. But he didn’t.

“I always love you. I love you every way you can be.”

“I make you upset. It hurts you to be in my presence, but you do not leave me.”

“I told you I never would.”

“In the past I would have left you myself, if being around me made you feel like you do.”

Hawke looked over, alarmed. “Don’t leave, Anders. I couldn’t handle that.”

“I will not, you do not need to worry. Your state would have been unbearable to me, but it is not now. You are keeping me alive, and I do not wish to die.”

“I was going to kill you,” Hawke said, feeling almost as numb as Anders looked. “I almost did.”

“But you changed your mind. Thank you for that.”

Hawke laughed, mirthless and hollow. “That’s not what you would have thought. You would be furious with me, I broke my promise.”

Hawke still remembered the day he made that broken vow. It was before Anders had even been his lover, on the first anniversary of Karl’s death.

Anders had been despondent all day, and Hawke had kept him company.

“If they ever make me tranquil,” Anders had asked, his eyes dark, “kill me.”

“What?” Hawke had asked, aghast. Even before they were together, Hawke found the idea inconceivable.

“Don’t let me live like that,” Anders had insisted. “I granted Karl mercy because I cared for him. If you care for me you will grant me the same.”

Eventually Hawke had promised, with his heart in his throat. He had made another vow to himself that day, a vow that he would never let that happen in the first place.

Another vow broken.

Every day now dragged Hawke further into the void. Every day he grew numb, because he had no more tears to cry. His beloved was gone. Dead, but not. And there was no moving on like this, not with the ghost of his Anders following.

But his or not, this was still Anders and Hawke could not kill him.

When Hawke had first escaped the cell the Templars put him in and found Anders like… like that, he had killed them all in a broken rage. Then he raised his knife again, tears streaming down his face, and advanced on Anders where he sat in chains.

He raised his knife, looked into Anders’ vacant eyes, and broke down in tears. Instead of granting Anders’ wish quickly, he curled against the wall and wept. The knife lay forgotten on the floor.

“Are you going to kill me?” Anders had asked, quizzical almost. Hawke had looked up, startled out of his grief, and everything was clear.

There had to be a cure. Hawke had seen too much in this world for there not to be a cure. Hawke was not as strong as Anders, he could not set him free until he knew… until he absolutely knew there was no hope.

——————

Hawke tossed and turned in his tent, unable to find rest. He hated the limitations of his body, he wanted to keep going and not stop until he found the cure. He knew he had barely been himself lately, he knew the months since Anders had been made tranquil were tearing him down bit by bit. It had been almost a year now.

Anders shifted beside him, propped himself up on his elbow.

“You’re troubled,” the man observed.

“Kinda hard not to be…” Hawke quipped to no one in particular, frowning deeply. He had been a funny person before all this, now everything he said came out with a vicious bite or a deadened resignation.

“I can help you relax,” Anders offered. Hawke was confused for a moment, and after he said nothing Anders swung a leg over his hips, straddling him.

Now Hawke understood what he meant.

“No,” he said, sitting up with Anders still in his lap. Against Hawke’s will, his body began to respond. No one, barely even himself, had touched him in almost a year.

“You find me arousing,” Anders observed clinically. “Even as I am now, we could have sex. I do remember what it was like, how to please you.”

Nothing about this was pleasing Hawke, regardless of what his body said. Hawke felt sick, like shards of glass were raked over his chest. This was so awfully familiar. The feeling of Anders’ body against his, the way they felt together.

Hawke remembered that, and at the same time was confronted with the ghost of those pleasant memories.

“No,” Hawke repeated calmly. He couldn’t bring himself to push Anders away, but he would not let this go farther. “You don’t want to have sex, you just want to please me.”

“Yes, I do want to please you,” Anders responded, almost confused. “Having you more relaxed would benefit us.”

“That’s not a reason to have sex,” Hawke told Anders. “Unless you want to, genuinely want to, then nothing will happen.”

“Hawke, you know I’m incapable of that.”

“Exactly. So we’re not doing anything.”

“It would not harm me,” Anders told him, “if that’s what worries you.”

Hawke let out a long breath. “It would still be wrong. Like this, I would be taking advantage of you.”

“But I consent,” Anders argued.

“The tranquil will consent to a lot that they wouldn’t have before… that doesn’t make it okay.”

“But I consented to having sex with you before I was tranquil.” Anders was damn insistent about this.

Hawke was so tired, so full of hurt. Deep down, he wanted to sleep with Anders again. He yearned for it, but this would not be the same. And more importantly, it would be wrong.

Having sex with the tranquil was what those bastards in Kirkwall did. Had those tranquil really consented, or had their ability to care just been taken away? Hawke knew the answer of course. Even if Anders… the real Anders… would want to bed Hawke, this shadow of a man simply didn’t care one way or another. That wasn’t consent, it never would be.

Hawke would never do that to Anders.

Gently, Hawke pushed Anders away from him. Anders relented, but again made the offer.

“If you change your mind I will not object.”

“I won’t change my mind. That’s a promise I will be able to keep.”

Anders stared at him for a moment longer, then went back to his bedroll. Hawke rolled over, and all at once felt horror and grief flood his body.

It was sick, Anders dispassionately offering himself to Hawke just so Hawke could “relax.” Anders would never give his body to anyone for their pleasure only. It also made Hawke’s stomach turn to imagine Anders as one of Kirkwall’s tranquil, “willingly” letting the Templars have their way with them. If Hawke was another man, a worse man, Anders would have been raped without even realizing it.

This was why Hawke could not send Anders away, would rather kill him than let him loose like this. Hawke hated to be Anders’ keeper, Anders was meant to be free, but he was a danger to himself like this.

Like this, he didn’t value his own choice.

Hawke’s shoulders shook, and he tried to repress the oncoming storm. He tried, and failed. He had been failing a lot lately.

He cried into his pillow, thankfully silent, but Anders noticed nonetheless.

“I’m sorry,” Anders said quietly. “I have upset you further.”

Hawke bit his lip, wiped a hand across his eyes. “It’s not your fault. None of this is on you.”

“And yet I am still the cause.”

“Never,” Hawke told him, tears still running down his cheeks.

“As I was before, I wouldn’t have been able to stand hurting you like this. Does it not bother you that I no longer care?”

“I only care that you’re willing to stay with me,” Hawke managed to say. “I just need you here.”

“It’s tearing you apart.”

“Doesn’t matter. It would be worse with you gone.”

“The man you loved is gone,” Anders told him.

Hawke was painfully aware of that fact. He took a shuddering breath and turned over to face Anders.

“I have to believe there’s hope,” he told the man beside him. “I have to. I’ll get you back, Anders.”

Hawke didn’t promise anything though, because he knew how useless promises were. Both to himself and to Anders.

#handers #m!handers #anders/male hawke #anders/hawke

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wasabi-mommy · 4 years

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Hello, this is a short 3 part fic I’m in process of writing.

Summary: Kakashi has lost the one he loves most, how? He doesn’t know. How is he is still alive? Also, he doesn’t know. Dealing with the intense emotions, the stress of change, and living without the love of his life is tearing him apart. Kakashi doesn’t know it, but he has people looking out for him though, Even if he doesn’t feel like it.

(Let’s base this before he has OG team 7)

Day By Day (1/3)

Warnings!: ANGST, DEATH, BLOOD, ACTIVE VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF SUICIDE.

He didn’t know what was worse. Couldn’t tell what hurt more... the first night knowing that she’s gone, or every single day after.

Kakashi was still awake, like he had been for the last 6 days.. no.. no it was almost morning now. No.. 7 days.. a week. His eyes glued to the ceiling of his “old” apartment.

Once more in his life he felt empty. He felt like a fucking idiot.. letting his guard down again- letting someone in. Again. Of course they would be doomed to die as everyone else Kakashi cared for would.

He didn’t even know how she died. He woke up to her body lifeless on top of his... He doesn’t remember who carried him to safety.. he doesn’t remember who hauled his half dead body 100 miles back to the village, he doesn’t even remember being in a medically induced coma.

All Kakashi can recall.. is waking up to his lover’s body on top of his, stained with cold blood , yelling her name and shaking her to wake up- to open her eyes.

Then it was black.

He remembers shooting up from the hospital bed, ripping off the wires and tubes attached to him, he remembers practically interrogating the doctors and hospital staff...”She bled out” the medics told him.

He sat up slowly, he was disgusted with himself, his body felt like sludge. His head fell into his hands, his face unyielding of any emotion but the tears streaming down his cheeks clearly say otherwise.

He crossed his legs as he stifled a silent sob.

He loved her. She was the kind, unselfish,sweetest, intelligent laidback person he had ever known.. and she didn’t even have to try, because that’s how genuine she was. Kakashi’s breathing gradually slowed and he lifted his head from his hands. He threw his legs over to the side of the bed and with all the effort of whatever was left in him, pushed himself up.

The funeral or the preparations atleast.. was what he would genuinely crushed him. She didn’t have any family, no next of kin, only him. He had to sign the release forms for her body at the morgue, he had to handle the paperwork regarding funeral arrangements. It was a constant sick reminder from the minute he woke up on an active battlefield.. that she was dead.

Kakashi’s legs were numb but managed to carry him to the bathroom just fine. He scanned himself in the mirror. His silver hair thrown in every direction, dark bags forming under his eyes from sleepless nights, his maskless face covered in scruff. He let out a short laugh followed by a small cry.

‘I should be ashamed of myself’ he thought staring down his own reflection.

The anger was carved into Kakashi’s face and he couldn’t hold it in anymore, with his knuckles white and a quick cock back of his fist, he’d lost it. The sound that escaped his lips as his fist easily went through the dry wall was one he’d never actually heard from himself before. It wasn’t like him to be this extremely outwardly violent.

The mirror fell off the wall and shattered on the tile floor, Kakashi’s breaths were heavy and his eyes fell below him. The glass had sliced his ankles and feet. For some reason.. he couldnt feel the pain, but he could see the blood starting to seep from the cuts. Other than that.. nothing.

“MR. HATAKE! WHAT IS GOING ON?!” A raspy female voice called out as she banged loudly on the front door.

“Shit” He mumbled. He’d forgotten, his neighbor was actually his landlord. He let out a sigh and rand his hand through his tangled hair. He can’t feel anything- at least in the moment so he walked without a care over the shattered glass on the bathroom floor.

He slowly turned the knob of the door revealing the short chubby grey haired women standing with her arms crossed.

“Mr.Hatake do you understand it is 4 in the Morning!? What are you doing punching holes through my walls?!” She yelled flailing her knobby arms around.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Roshi” she arms fell, she opened her eyes to get a closer look at his.

“Mr. Hatake! You’re bleeding!” Ms. Roshi grabbed his hand before he could protest and guided him through the door to the right of his.

“You sit down, I’ll fix you up!” She motion him to the living room while she waddled away. Kakashi found himself sitting on the sofa, hand folded in his lap, he could feel the dried tears along his cheeks, and a headache was sure to be coming along.

‘She won’t be offended if I just leave right? ..no i already put a hole through her wall.. she’d probably evict me at that point..’ he thought folding his hands into his lap.

Ms. Roshi came back with a large bowl of water, a small metallic bowl, medical tweezers, surgical sutures, alcohol pads, and bandages. She set everything down on the floor and looked up at Kakashi. She frowned, there was an emptiness that she could she through his dark eyes. Roshi herself had a feeling what had happened seeing that look in a mans before.

She lightly lifted up his heel and began to observe the wound soon plunking away at glass shards. Kakashi felt embarrassed, but he felt like he deserved this, this punishment or whatever this feeling was. The only noise filling the apartment where the small clinks of glass begin dropped in a metal pan.

Roshi broke the silence, “ what has you hollowed away Mr. Hatake?” Her voice was steady and calm, almost nurturing.

Kakashi’s eyes grew wide for a second and then appeared once again lifeless.

“I..” it was still so fucking hard to admit. Because when he would say it.. then it would become real, “ I lost a loved one”

Roshi nodded, “ I see... I’m sorry for your loss” Kakashi’s shoulders fell, even though he had to keep still for her he just wanted to fall apart.

“If I may ask, how did she pass?” Roshi asked plucking out a very large piece of glass from the side of Kakashi’s ankle. He felt like his heart would stop any minute with how shallow it felt.

“I-I don’t know..”

Roshi cocked her brow before she could say anything Kakashi continued,” I remember waking up during the battle..she- she was on top of me. I- she died.. she bled out on top of me”

Roshi’s face grew grim, “ that is terrible, I’m so sorry.” She began working on stitches the deeper cuts at this point. Old woman worked fast.

“How about I put on a pot of tea,Hn? Then I would like to talk to you Kakashi”

Kakashi’s head perked up, it caught him completely off guard, using his first name.

“I would like that, Thankyou” he hated how disgustingly pathetic he sounded. He just wanted to shrivel up and die in complete honesty. Ms. Roshi finished stitching up the silver haired mans feet and ankles and had wrapped them in bandages.

“Put on these socks for now, you shouldn’t walk bare foot with fresh bandages” she tossed him a pair of fluffy grey socks. Kakashi slipped them on and Ms.Roshi eventually slipped to the kitchen for a short and and brought two cups of hot tea and set them on the coffee table. She took her place in an arm chair across from Kakashi and sighed. Kakashi blew gently on the hot glass and began to sip the sweet warm liquid.

“I remember when I first met you and Sakumo,”

Kakashi almost choked on his tea, he put the cut down on the table, “you knew my father?”

Roshi smiled and nodded putting her tea down as well, “of course! I’ve rented to Sakumo all of your life Kakashi, I was very close friends with Sakumo until the end, I remember tiny little you..and now look another Hatake is renting from me now.”

She smiled, “ Besides who else would rent to a man with such bad credit like Sakumo”

Kakashi scratched the back of his head. “Uuuh well..”

Roshi Scoffed, “Kakashi you don’t even have credit, so shush, I promised Sakumo I’d give you somewhere to stay, why do you think you rent is only $50?”

Kakashi sweat dropped, he was learning a little more than needed about his father now.

“I’m not going to sugar coat it Kakashi, I’ve lost my Husband, 3 sons, and 2 daughters.. all Shinobi, some fighting for the village, some becoming their own demise..” she looked at Kakashi with serious eyes. Kakashi’s mismatched colored eyes locked with hers in the subtle moonlight of the living room.

“I need to know if you’re going to be okay Kakashi. I’ve lost two sons to suicide, and I wouldn’t want the same to happen to a dear companions son”

Kakashi tensed up. No, he wouldn’t come to that point.. a part of him wouldnt fathom the thought of taking his own life, only from the fear of not having succeeded and having to deal with the aftermath. There was a sick part of him deep inside that wanted to give in and waste away. Kakashi picked his cup back up,

“No.. I couldn’t” he mumbled gazing at his reflection in the tea, god he looked like shit enough for someone to ask him that?

A huff came from Roshi and she crossed her arms. “Good. You’re a gentle young man Kakashi, I know everything you’ve been through has been hard- but you cannot be lead astray by violence and self destruction”

Everything she was saying.. resonate led with him. Staring blankly into the dark liquid refracting the gleam of moon light that had slipped through the window.

Kakashi set the cup down and got up from the sofa. He flinched, yes he could feel what the broken mirror had done to his feet now. What a stupid, stupid, stupid thing for him to do.

“Thankyou Ms. Roshi, I’m sorry about your wall,” Kakashi’s eyes glanced to his left where he could see a hole clear through the drywall.

“... I will fix it in the morning, Thankyou for everything.” He bowed his head to her and turned to leave.

“Kakashi”

He looked over his shoulder, his hand already gripping the door knob. “... please come and visit me more often, talking can help.”

Kakashi looked back at her and forced a small closed eye smile.

“Thankyou Ms. Roshi” he said quietly leaving the old woman apartment.

He closed the door silently and slipped back into his apartment where the bathroom light was still on. Making his way towards the bathroom he saw how much of a mess their actually was, blood, glass, chunks of drywall. It earned him sliced up feet and ankles and still.. nothing has changed.

Lol I hope you enjoyed, this is part one of three, inbox me suggestion and stuff.. please don’t be rude this is my first fic that I’m posting on this blog publicly.

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dear--charlie · 3 years

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Dear Charlie,

TW // Mention of suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt, self harm, alcohol, drug use, eating disorder

First of all I am so sorry this has to be the first letter of the year, I wanted this year to have a great start, I really wanted this letter to be about how excited I am/was about my future and all the things I´ve learned about life and myself for these past months but if I don’t get this out of my head I will just feel worse.

You see I was genuinely feeling better, I was reading, I cut my hair as I always wanted and also making peace with my body and trying to eat healthy without skipping any of my meals. I know this doesn’t seem like a lot but for me it’s the happiest I’ve ever been in years. I guess I could say 2020 wasn’t that bad for me although it’s just because 2019 was one of the worst years. In fact, I wrote you a letter about all the things that happened to me that year, that has to be here somewhere among all these letters, and long story short I relapsed on self harm, I wasn’t eating, I had a lot of suicidal thoughts and it was just horrible.

The worst part of all was a day after Christmas that I was having dinner with my family, they started talking about something I don’t remember and somehow they end up talking about myself and how I never tell them about my problems and they started asking questions and I just couldn’t handle it anymore. I was thinking of which part of my fucked up life to talk about, would it be the suicidal thoughts? or the way my classmates fucked up my reputation because I didn’t like back one of those boys? or maybe about all the abusive relationships I’ve had with boys who treat me like shit and make me feel so little? or perhaps about how I felt in love with a girl in high school and since then I realized I’m bisexual? or what about the eating disorder I developed at 13?

I felt like I was gonna explode if I didn’t tell them the truth so I chose the suicidal thoughts and I thought maybe it had to happen so I can finally receive the help that I needed. I have never cried like that day, my throat hurt like the words were burning me, I couldn’t breath, my heart was racing and at the same time I felt a bit of liberation.

My parents cried too, they said some things I don’t remember anymore. I guess the only thing I remember now it’s they said: “don’t worry, we’re gonna get you help.” And for once I trusted them and waited but the help never came. To this day they act as if it has never happened, I didn’t tell anybody about that, not even my closest friends, but I keep thinking about that day. I can’t look into my father’s eyes without thinking he’s pity about me, or being alone with my mother because I’m afraid she talks about it and said I’m just faking it or that it’s just because of hormones, I can’t even sit in the place at the table that used to be mine since I was a kid, I can’t have a single moment of joy with my siblings because I always think I’m supposed to take care of them, not them taking care of me. I think I failed to both of them and they’re who I love most in this world.

I know it’s pathetic I can’t stop reliving that terrific day but I’m just mad as fuck with myself and my parents, and everyone around me. Charlie, I simply don’t understand how they can tell me they love me to my face but not make a single effort to help me, does that mean I am as alone as I think? Why did I think it was a good idea to talk with them about it?

My dear friend I’m so sorry about writing all this shit to you but I’ve got more to say. On January 6th of this new year my uncle tried to kill himself. He’s been a bad person almost all his life but recently life’s been treating him like shit, his wife left him (it wasn’t a good relationship both of them are shitty people but i bet that hurt him), he can’t find a job, he’s been consuming lots of alcohol and told his siblings he used to do cocaine, he moved in with my grandpa but grandpa got tired of his shit and asked him to leave, he got arrested and a lot of other stuff.

I’m not saying I’ve got it worse than him or that he got it worse than me because at the end of the day we both have shitty lives and our problems affect us in a different way, neither of us deserve having these voices inside our heads. What I’m saying is this kinda stuff happens to everyone, it happened to me, a 21-year-old person who is about to graduate from uni and seems to have their life together and it also happened to him, a 40-something-years-old man who maybe shows more signs of it. We both need help, we both are in danger.

The only difference it’s he actually tried to end it and I’ve never crossed that line because I know if I do it nothing is going to be the same and I had think a lot about the consequences, and also as some girl said, although suicide is seen as cowardice it takes a lot of courage to just try it and I don’t have it. But Charlie does that mean I am not suffering? Or that I am okay? Because I don’t feel like that at all.

As I said earlier in this letter mom and dad never helped me, I’ve been learning to help myself since June, because on my birthday (July) I always feel sad but I didn’t want to feel that way last year so I tried really hard, and it almost worked. The day of my birthday my uncle got arrested and mom went running to solve his problems and left me with my siblings. I understood it because she had to be there but it still hurt.

This time I am really trying to take care of myself because I finally realized I cannot count on them. I have to take care of myself, otherwise I’ll always be fucked up. I wanna be myself without worrying about my weight, how I look, the way I laugh, if I have friends, if I love women or men, if I am even a woman.I want to be enough for me. I want to just stop giving a fuck about what people think of me. I want to do all the things I once dreamt about. I want to dress however the fuck I want to dress. I want to sing, dance and write without being afraid I don’t have the talent. I want to love myself. I want to be myself. But Charlie, why do I feel so mad at my parents and my uncle?

After January 6th my mom constantly talks to him and asks him how he is feeling and you know what? She’s even searching for a psychiatrist and a job so he doesn’t try it again. Am I being a shitty person Charlie? I hate feeling this way, I shouldn’t be jealous of my mom’s brother but I am. What did I do wrong? Why didn’t they help me? Is it the fact that I just think about it but I didn’t try to really do it? Do I have to show them the scars that I gave myself on my wrists,arms, ankles and hands? Do I have to tell them about the times I drank brandy all alone until I felt numb? Do I have to talk about the parties where I drank vodka like water just to feel free and stop thinking? What do I have to do to get that promised help?

I am just so tired and angry with them seeing me as a joke, but I guess it’s my fault for trust them with something this big. I shouldn’t have told them in the first place. Why did I think the man who so many times said I am a drama queen would help me? Why did I think the woman who always reminds me of my defects would help me? And I’m so mad at myself for giving a fuck about what they think of me.They didn’t give a fuck about me at 13 when my life started falling apart and they will not care for me now.

I’m so fucking sorry I write all of this shit in the first letter of the year, I really wanted it to be special. I promise you, my dear Charlie I will get better. I will not let this fucked up head of mine listen to that shit anymore. I must save myself.

All the love as always,

Dorian.

#dear charlie #Dorian

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zankivich · 5 years

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Neighbors: Shawn x Plus-Size Reader: Epilogue Part 1

a/n: we back bitches! I just couldn’t let my babies go yet. I really wanted to see what a future could look like for them. I really wanted to allow them the room to grow and evolve and be deeper, more complex beings. Please let me know what you think. Like honestly. It would mean the world to me. I just wanna talk about them. I missed them. Ok bye.

Trigger Warnings: Weight issues. Trouble conceiving. Smut.

*5 years later*

You always thought that when the other shoe would drop you’d be in a little bit better of a position to handle it. Like at all even. But sometimes that’s not what you get. Sometimes you’re in a med gown with your feet up in sternups while someone is swabbing and poking away at your cervix because your body doesn’t work right. Sometimes that’s all you get.

You vaguely hear the doctor explain to you about the length of time the test would take, how relaxing could help things, that you shouldn’t get stressed out quite yet. It all sort of feels like you’ve got cotton in your ears though. Like she’s talking but you can’t hear and you don’t want to hear you just want to go to bed.

It doesn’t help that they lead you out to the waiting room and he’s sitting there just as nervous and smiley as ever. Somehow he’s gotten so good at keeping your spirits high that you don’t even know how he manages to make you smile in that moment. Really all you wanted to do was cry. You go to fill out the exit paperwork and he’s right there rubbing circles into your back soothingly. You really wanna cry.

“I called your assistant to let her know you wouldn’t be coming in. Figured we could spend the day together, aye?” He hummed against your temple.

You nod silently. Thank fucking god he’s there to drive you home too, because the second you leave that building your eyes glaze over. You can barely see.

He lets you hold his hand, lets you pretend that those aren’t tears spilling silently down your cheeks as you stare out the window.

It’d been a hell of a five years. From the moment Shawn went completely and totally public with your relationship to the moment you moved into his apartment. To the rest of the tour finishing out sort of perfectly. To the vacation to Portugal. To the meeting of his grandmother and Allyiah’s graduation. To this random night in Madeira when you missed a New Years Eve party to make love with the windows open and he had laid beside you and put a ring on your finger with some sappy ass question of allowing him to love you for the rest of your lives. Not marry you, just love you. Wild. To the house you bought together with the stainless steel kitchen and the island you’d always wanted. And then of course there was that day over a year ago when he’d given you the puppy dog face after making you cum before work and asked if he could put a whole ass child inside of you, which had landed you here.

You walked into the house and immediately crawled out of your pants and back into bed. And he’s there almost as fast. His fingers trace out the words, “ i love you” onto your back and he throws his leg over you to smother you the way that you needed. It doesn’t matter though. None of it matters. And his love for you only hurts you more in this moment. Because you don’t deserve it. Can’t return it equally the way the way he deserved.

“It doesn’t matter to me.” He murmured softly. “You gotta know that, y/n.”

You snort softly, tears soaking into your pillow as he lies to make you feel better.

“It’s all you wanted. It’s the only thing you’ve ever asked me for.” You sniffled.

“I--I know. But I’d rather just have you, healthy and happy. That’s the only thing in the world I want, my love. Please don’t be sad.”

“I’m not healthy. I’m morbidly obese and now my uterus doesn’t work because of it.”

The tears come a little harder then and you try to take a breath but it just sort of chokes you. So he rolls you over and settles all of his weight on top of you. His runs his thumb along your cheeks and down over your chin, lips pressing to your forehead.

“That’s not what they said. They just said they need to run more tests.”

“She said my weight was definitely a contributing factor.” You argued gently. “It’s the whole reason my periods weren’t regular growing up. My mom had the same problem.”

“And she had four kids. All your doctor said was that it could make it harder, not impossible. So let’s let them run the tests. I never in a million years want you to blame yourself for this. Either we’ll make a baby naturally or we can adopt or do a surrogate or any of the other million ways people have kids now. This is not a thing to add stress, sweetheart. I hate seeing you sad like this.”

You swallowed heavily and look hesitantly up at him from beneath your lashes.

“If you just would’ve married one of those skinny model types, you’d probably already have a kid by now though.”

His eyebrow furrows and you notice an emotion on his face that he rarely ever shows towards you. It’s anger. He slips off of you and pulls the covers back taking all of the warmth away with him

“No. No, we’re not doing this. I’m not even going to entertain a discussion where I shouldn’t be with woman I asked to spend the rest of her life with me because of something so insignificant. I’m not going to let you sit in this house all day and blame yourself for a body that I’m so incredibly in love with. Get up we’re going out.”

He tugs at your hands until you’re sitting up and then disappears into your closet.

“Where are we going?” You mumbled reaching for the tissues on the bedside table.

“We’re going to go spend the day together.” He huffed pulling out one of his favorite dresses of yours. “We are going to go out to lunch. We’re gonna go see a movie. We’re going to do whatever the hell we want. We’re just not going to sit here all day. Understand?”

He steps between your legs and holds your face in his hands and it really is the most soothing thing in the world. You don’t know how he does it. How he makes it all better. Or, how he puts up with you all the time. How even when he’s clearly irritated he’s looking at you like you’re his whole world. Because you actually, genuinely are.

“Look at me.” He said softly. “You’re everything to me. Everything. And that could never change, no matter what. So never look at me like it could, or should. I love you and you’re it. Tell me you understand that.”

“Understand. I love you.” You whispered.

He smiled down at you. “I love you too. More than anything in the world. Let’s go.”

It doesn’t fix it. Not at all. But it also doesn’t let you stew for the moment. It’s okay. For now.

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

His parents invite them over for dinner. It’s a known thing at this point that the struggle of getting pregnant is taking a toll on them. It definitely didn’t help that the press had gotten whiff of the Mendes’ trouble to conceive. She had only been harder on herself.. He’s afraid to touch her anymore if it means she’s only gonna think about whether her body will cooperate this time. He’s even more afraid to not touch her if it means she’s gonna spend a second thinking he’s not absolutely obsessed with her in every way. All he wants in the world is to make her happy, and he can’t help but think it’s his fault for ever bringing it up to begin with.

His dad pulls them both into a hug and his mum does the same. She’s in that jumpsuit he likes with the gold belt that makes him weak in the knees. There’s wine that’s been sitting in the freezer because they knew she was coming. He pours her a glass and grabs a beer for himself.

“Did I tell you how much I love this outfit on you?” He asked as he hands her her glass.

She smirks. “When I put it on in the house. And when we got in the car.”

His cheeks warm. “Sorry. I still mean it though. I think it’s my favorite. You’re beautiful.”

A giggle passes through her lips and she smiles at him over the rim of her glass.

“Look I know what tonight is about. And I know I’ve been...really difficult to be around lately.”

He shook his head. “Not at all. Not even remotely.”

“I don’t believe you. But, I just….I’m gonna try and do better. So, what do you say we have dinner. Maybe drink a little. Maybe we can have a night like the ones we used to have? Before all of this?”

“Sweetheart that sounds amazing. I’d love nothing more than that.”

He reaches in to kiss her and it’s like the first time. She still makes his fucking toes go numb. She makes his heart flutter and his stomach tighten. He’s so in love with her. He’s never not been in love with her. She digs her fingers in his hair and pulls just slightly and it still gets him going like he’s twenty-three again. And when his fingers find her thighs and she bites at his lip, it’s the closest he’s felt to her in months.

“Shit. I cannot pop a boner in my parent’s kitchen.” He groaned pulling away.

“Like physically incapable or like…?”

“Not funny. Let’s go eat dinner.”

Dinner starts out smooth. It’s catch up and y/n telling his mum how great the food is before they start exchanging recipes at the dinner table. And it’s better. She holds his hand. She tries to let go. He can tell she’s trying, but it’s different than it usually is. Y/n is never not trying. Lately she had been trying so hard that it was painful for him to watch. This time is different because this time it actually works. He can see that she’s not in her head as much and she’s not worrying about everything. It’s exactly what they need.

“So Shawn what’s going on music wise? You working on anything?”

It’s a loaded question. And of course his dad couldn’t have known. At first he put the album on hold to make a baby, and then he kept it on hold when y/n started having trouble so he could be there for her. Every now and again she could hear him argue with Andrew over the phone, or refuse another meeting with the label. It wasn’t that he wasn’t making music. He just didn’t want to do anything that might take him away from her. But somehow that makes her stressed too. Tonight instead of completely falling in on herself she tries to stay in the moment. She takes a bigger sip of her drink.

He slides his hand onto her knee and squeezes gently.

“I’m always working on something.” He chuckled. “Nothing concrete though. Just creating to create. Cause it makes me happy.”

He peers over at her in hopes that it’ll click for her. That he’s happy the way things are. That she doesn’t need to be anything other than what she already is for him.

She smiles and takes another gulp from her glass. But she doesn’t shy away so maybe it’s okay.

Until it isn’t. She finishes her glass before anyone else, and then goes to fix another when his parents start talking about aaliyah and what she’s up to.The final straw is when she gets up to try and help clear the table and she stumbles and drops a plate. His parents stare on with concern, and she’s giggling up a storm. She goes to try and pick up the pieces, but the last thing he needs is for her to cut herself on the glass, so he politely intrudes. She’s not hammered enough to get angry at him yet.

“Hey, honey? Leave it alright. I’ll clean it up. Why don’t you lie down on the couch for a little while until it’s time to go.”

She stares up at him eyes completely innocent in that way that wine does for her. It’s kind of adorable.

“Why? What did I do?”

He smiles. “Nothing. Nothing. You’re perfect. Just don’t want you to hurt yourself. We can leave in a little bit okay?”

“O--Okay.”

Her eyes already heavy before she sits on the couch. He hands her a blanket and knows that she’ll be out like a light. His parents hadn’t really brought them there for dinner anyway. He really was just there to get advice from the only people he knew could make it make sense.

“What’s bothering you kiddo?” His mum asks before he can even take a breath.

He sighed and let his shoulder drop.

“I just feel like I’ve messed everything up. And I can’t really see anyway out of it. She’s--She’s blaming herself for all of this, and I can’t figure out how to get her to stop.”

“Well what have the doctors said? Anything?” his dad asked.

He groaned. “Just that her weight is playing a role in her hormonal imbalance and it’s leading to issues with her fertility. But nothing about her being infertile. It’s just gonna be harder for her, I guess. And I don’t know how to make her believe that I would rather have a beautiful happy life than put her through anything like what these past few months have been for her.”

“That must be so hard for her.” His mum murmured laying her hand on his shoulder. “And hard for you too, sweetheart. Is she talking to someone about it by chance?”

“I try. I don’t think she wants to talk to me because she’s afraid of hurting me. She talks to some of her girlfriends I guess, but we don’t really have any friends with kids. And it’s not like she’s gonna call her mom up and talk to her about it.”

“That’s okay. You can only be there for her and offer as much support as she needs.When’s the last time you two just...went on vacation or got out of Toronto for a little while. Sometimes it’s the environment. Babies can be tricky things.” His mum shrugged.

“Tricky, aye? Was I tricky?”

His dad chuckled. “You sure were. You showed up without even bothering to tell us you were coming!”

“And look at all the good it’s caused.” He grinned.

“Nothing but good, sweetheart.” She smiled.

He peered back into the living room where his person was dead to the world, sleeping the sleep of the innocent. And his heart just felt full and safe.

“I’ll figure it out.” He promised himself. “I’ll figure it out.”

***

*y/n’s point of view*

You are in the middle of a meeting. A rather important meeting one might add. With like spreadsheets and projections and shit. You have a laser pointer for Christ’s sake! So when your assistant let’s your one and only dumbass enter into the conference room with nothing but a shit eating grin on his face and a suitcase, you are certainly at a loss for words. What in the hell?

“I--I...Shawn what are you doing here?” You blinked.

“Sorry ladies and gents I’ve kinda come to sweep you away. I already got the okay from your boss so….let’s go!”

“I’m sorry? I’m in the middle of a meeting babe.” You wave your arms around at the general meeting-ness of the room. “I can’t just leave.”

“Oh. Well that’s cool I guess. It’s just that I got a jet waiting for us, and although they technically can’t leave without us, I’d still like to be punctual. I’ll wait in your office.”

There’s a running joke about the jet. It’s not a joke at all actually. It’s extremely serious. He took you on a jet one time. When you had decided that the concept of marriage wasn’t nearly as important as just loving each other forever, you went on your “not-honeymoon”. On the flight to Italy, he ate you out in the bathroom right as take off happened. It was the best orgasm of your life. To this day every time he brought up that stupid ass jet, your thighs got tight and you got just a little wet. Bastard.

The rest of the presentation is a complete and total wash. Your dumbass is somewhere in your office waiting to whisk you away to God knows where and you’re sitting here talking about revenue? No thank you.

“Everyone have a lovely weekend. I will be back...whenever the hell he brings me back I suppose.” You sighed heading straight for the door.

He’s sitting at your desk with his legs propped up in those jeans that somehow had not changed size in five years with an ass that still made you wanna cry. Rude.

“What in the hell are you doing here?!”

He rolled his eyes. “Well it’s lovely to see you too dear. I’m doing great!”

“Don’t get snooty with me. You know that I’m happy you’re here, although you could have texted. Where are we going?”

“Coachella!” He exclaimed. “You and I are going to coachella. We are going to live our best lives in the most ridiculous, boogie ass, VIP style that you can imagine. We’re gonna take pictures in flower crowns. We’re gonna be surrounded by people half our age and it’s gonna be awesome.”

Coachella. It was something you’d talked about once upon a time ago. Back when what you had was still new and expanding and you were making plans for the future without any thought of what might come later. Something had always gotten in the way. The tour. An album. A movie project. You hadn’t talked about it in years.

“Coachella? What in the hell made you think of Coachella?”

He got out of your chair and wrapped his whole body around you in that way that made your body feel more firmly rooted to the ground. His arms were warm and firm and he nuzzled his nose into yours.

“I thought we might be missing what makes us, us lately? Let’s just go to Coachella. Let’s have a fun fucking time. You don’t need to worry about anything in the world. We can just be us again ya know?”

You frowned softly. “You don’t think we’ve been us lately?”

He sighed. “I think we’ve both been under a ton of pressure, obviously you more than me. I just wanna take you away for a little, baby. I just want you to have fun.”

“Look I know that I’ve been--”

“No. Don’t you understand? I don’t want you to apologize. I don’t need you to make excuses for me. I don’t want you to try and make anything better. I just want you to go to Coachella with me. I’ve already packed your suitcase. Please will you go with me?”

His eyes are set firm in that way that they often times get when something means a lot to him. He’s not giving in, and more than that you can tell it would hurt him if you tried to fight in. Your emotions are a little all over the place in regards to why he felt the need to do this. But honestly, what was the worst that could happen? You weren’t getting pregnant in Toronto. How the hell was California gonna make a difference?

“Okay, okay! I’ll go.”

“Yes!”

He kisses you until your breathless and your toes curl and you can’t remember anything other than kissing him ever. Asshole.

Sure enough he takes you a jet where your friends are already waiting for you. It’s Brian, Stu, Bryan, Connor, your friends Cynthia and Taylor, and...Priyanka. Priyanka had been very annoyed to find out that the friend she made had neglected to tell her when she was solving all her relationship problems that they were Shawn Mendes related. You managed to stay friends from halfway across the world. She had even made a visit to Canada once, and you and Shawn had visited her in Barcelona again. You were closer than close, especially for friends with such physical distance between the two of you. Shawn knew that. Of course he knew that.

After you’ve had enough screaming and squealing over your friends, you decide to actually board the plane. Shawn is always there and waiting with a mimosa and quite expertly rolled, but still fat as all hell, blunt.

“I should’ve married you.” You mumbled reaching for both.

Everyone gets comfy in their seats, and you’re enough passes into your blunt that Stu is making grabby hands for not sharing when Shawn begins to nuzzle into your neck. He knew how sensitive you were there, especially high. Ugh.

“Babe,” He whispered kissing at your throat. “Need you to come with me.”

You whined softly and took another hit.

“Mmm where are we going?”

“I wanna do the thing. Please let me do the thing.”

Your eyes pop open at what he’s implying, and you’re not sure if it’s more intoxicating or sobering. Oh you’d let him do the thing alright.

You practically throw your blunt at Stu before tugging Shawn back towards the bathroom. Giggles bubble up from your throat as he presses you into the sink that’s nicer and bigger than the one you had in your first apartment. You hadn’t felt like this in a while. Playful. Care-free. In the moment.

It feels good. It feels like maybe everything he’d been asking you to do for months. You don’t know if it’s the weed or the mimsoa, or if instead it’s that sheepish fucking smile he gives you when he goes to take your pants off and nearly trips in the small space. In the end it doesn’t matter. You feel yourself falling. Into complacency. Into calmness. Into an ecstasy that has your legs locked around his head once again the moment the plane lifts off. Coachella here you come. Literally.

***

“Americans and your festivals.” Priyanka sighed nestling a flower crown over her headscarf.

You snorted softly. “Still not American, Pri.”

“Yea, yea, you’re the kinder version. I know. What are you wearing to this hotbox?”

Your day one outfit is a white cotton dress that falls off your shoulders and brings attention to your collarbones. There’s a big floppy hat to keep the sun away and sneakers because who the fuck has time for heels? You felt like a fat Florence Welch or a woodland fairy. It was kind of adorable. The fact that Shawn had somehow managed to pack your suitcase to your liking was a standard that you had never thought to set, but it surely came in hand.

The second you step out he’s waiting for you in a floral button up left undone over a tanktop and those damn jeans.He’s got one of those little pens with the cannabis oil in them, and you’ve never loved him more then when he smiles wide and goofy at you as you jump into his arms. Sometimes in your most insecure of moments, you would imagine that look going away, or even dimming in the slightest. But, it never seemed to happen. In over six years together he seemed to only love you more. Wild.

“You look so pretty. Are you excited?” He hummed fingers curving under the swell of your ass beneath your dress.

You bit your lip and pressed a little firmer against him. “I’m excited for something.”

“Sweetheart we should probably at least make it to Coachella before we run off to hook up somewhere.”

You pouted, bottom lip jutting out. “Well who’s idea is that?”

“Weed really does make you horny, aye?” He chuckled. “I promise to keep you more than satisfied this weekend.”

“Yea?”

You licked your lips and made yourself busy with pressing kisses along his jaw and neck.

“You’re gonna be trouble this weekend.”

“You have no idea.”

Coachella is...hot. Mostly. You get the feeling that you’re not exactly experiencing it like a normal person, the second Shawn leads you by your hand past a roped gate. It reminds you of the time you snuck into the VIP section in college, except for now there’s not sneaking in. Your person just leads you right through the entrance. There are big tents set up with misting fans and bars and people in outfits that don’t look comfortable. You’re a pretty big group, but it matches the vast amount of entourages walking around. You think you spot Kime Kardashian in a diamond encrusted tank top, but then you spot hot dogs and those are more important.

In reality there are only five things you needed to experience at Coachella. Weed. Alcohol. Food. Sex. and most importantly Lizzo.

“So is this little wristband of yours gonna get me to the front?” You asked waving your wrist in Shawn’s face.

You were nursing a long island in cup that looked more like a bucket and a hot dog in the other. Your priorities were perfectly in order.

“Not quite. My face should do it. I made a call ahead of time. Lizzo knows we’ll be in the crowd.”

You nearly choked. “Don’t tell me that. I don’t need to know that. I just want to shake my ass in peace, Shawn.”

“And shake it you will, my love. Preferably on me, but I’m open to negotiating.”

You were so crossed at that point your soul felt cross-eyed.

“No negotiating needed. You wanna bend me over, you just say the word Mr. Mendes.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “You know I think that could definitely get me going. We should explore that at some point. Not in public. But we should explore it.”

“Boo. You’re so boring.” You snorted.

You go see one of the smaller acts where the crowd wasn’t large and no celebrities were there. Connor and Brian are on molly and jump into a mosh pit. Bryan and Stu start grinding to a techno beat immediately. Priyanka and the girls are jumping up and down in pleasure. It’s fun. It’s funner than maybe anything you’d ever done in your whole life. There’s something so freeing about being surrounded by people who are sweaty and drunk and just want to hear and feel the music. It’s incredible in every way. And you can’t get over the fact that he did it for you. That he plucked you out of your own head, out of everything that had been going on the past months for this. It spoke to the idea that maybe your happiness really was all that mattered to him. That as long as it was you and it was him, everything else would work itself out. You just had to get the two of you down. The rest would follow.

You’re sitting on a blanket between his too long legs. You flopped your hat on top of his head and stole the pen from him to take another hit. From where you’re lying he looks like the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. You fall a little deeper in love.

“Hi.” You murmured as he nodded his head to the music.

He smiled at you. “Hi. You feeling okay?”

“You’re so pretty.” You say instead. “The prettiest fucker I ever saw.”

“How high are you right now?” He asked caressing your jaw.

You shook your head softly and pouted.

“No. You’re pretty, honest! I’m so in love with you.”

“I’m in love with you, too. The love of my life, you are woman.”

“I wanna give you a baby so bad.” You sighed letting your head fall against his collarbones. “I never even thought I wanted to be a mom, ya know? Thought I’d live so happy on my own. But we’d be really fucking good at it.”

His arms were wrapped around you already and he intertwined his fingers against your stomach from behind

“We will be, baby.” He promised. “You can teach our baby to be a total bad ass, how to be strong and fearless and smart. And I’ll teach them out to play music, how to be stubborn. We can both teach them out to be stubborn. And we’ll love them more than anything. It will be perfect.”

“You think?” You grinned tilting your head up to look at him.

He peered down at you with your big ass hat on his head and suddenly the only thing that you could do was giggle your ass off. Definitely still high.

“Are you laughing at me?!”

You shook your head gasping for air. “No! No I’m not I just---that fucking hat, Shawn!”

This sends both of you into fits of laughter. Moment absolutely ruined.

***

“Hey…Everyone is heading to one of the house parties before we come back for Lizzo’s set.” Shawn murmured.

You were dehydrated and still drunk. Getting out of the sun sounded lovely.

“Okay.”

He frowned and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Yea. I was thinking you and I might head back to the house instead for a little while. You know...to relax.”

“Oh. Oh! Yes. Let’s do that.”

“Yea? I thought we could maybe try something, ya know new? Like the other stuff?”

Your eyes widened. “What the hell did you have in mind?”

The past five years had seen many an explorations in the bedroom for the two of you. You dead ass Louis and Clark’d that shit. But like without the slavery and the general white supremacy. Once you discovered you liked having your ass slapped, you found out that there were some other things you liked. You liked when he was a little rough with you, liked being pressed up against something and taken for all you were worth. You liked being restrained, not so much with actual restraints which had taken a handcuff situation, panic attack, and an accidental black eye that meant Shawn couldn’t leave the house for a week, to find out. No need to go back there. Shawn liked praise. Endless amounts of praise. Good news was you liked praising, and he liked punishing. What a life.

Your friends are not even remotely convinced when you tell them you’re gonna stop at the house for a nap. Bryan offers to ride back with you both to grab his fanny pack and Stu very loudly explains to him that you’re going back to fuck. He’s not wrong though. So you skip over towards your car happily with your person because you were too secure in your relationship to get skittish about sex anymore. You were a sexual creature and you weren’t afraid to hide it dammit!

“God I have wanted to touch you all day.” Shawn groaned. Pushing you against the first wall he can find the second the door is closed.

You giggled. “That’s what I’ve been saying! You wouldn’t listen though.”

“You wanted to have sex in a very public VIP tent.” He snorted. “I want you all to myself.”

“Well you got me. Come take care of me, aye?”

“Of course. Anything for you. Come here.”

Did you have a bedroom? Yes. Were you staying in a mansion that probably cost a shit ton? Accurate. But you were a simple girl, with simple needs. And sometimes? Sometimes you just wanted to be fucked on a very sturdy, very expensive, mahogany desk instead.

You reached for the belt buckle on his black jeans already trying to pull him closer than close, already wanting his body on yours.

“Here?” He asked a little surprised but still pressing kisses to your throat.

You moaned. “Now. Need it right now.”

“Fuck.”

You both pull apart from each other just long enough for you to rid yourself of your underwear and Shawn to get his jeans and briefs far enough down his thighs for movement. It’s maybe the most needy that either of you have ever been. You and Shawn thrived in foreplay. Sometimes spent whole hours in foreplay wihtout ever even getting to the sex part. When he shoves his way between your thighs, holding his tanktop up with his hand to spit on his dick as he made his way within you, something animalistic occurs. Your body practically convulses around him. It’s dirty and hot and fast and you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

“Holy fuck you’re so tight.” He groaned against your shoulder. “God, baby.”

“Harder! Just want it harder. Baby please.”

He’s got your thigh propped up on this desk and it’s just the perfect height to have him fucking into you with the stroke from the gods. Crossed y/n didn’t need much, she just kind of wanted to get railed in broad day light. What? Like it’s hard?

He finds a way to get your leg over his shoulder and you back hits the wall and he pushes so deep inside of you, you see stars. He’s rocking himself against that spot inside of you that only he could touch like that. Your back arched and you squeezed your eyes shut in complete and utter ecstasy.

“What’s the thing?!” You gasped fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Huh?!”

“The thing! What’s the thing you wanted to do I’m gonna fucking cum soon.” You whined.

“I read an article!” He panted hips still moving. “That choking makes the orgasm like more heightened. Don’t wanna hurt you. Just wanna make you feel good. Always.”

“That’s so hot. Now--do it now!”

“Just...hit me if it starts to hurt, okay?”

His fingers, long and roughly calloused, gripped experimentally at your throat. At first he’s just touching the skin, just familiarizing himself with what it could feel like. Meanwhile his hips are still slapping against the back of your thighs, the desk beginning to squeak and rattle on its feet. His grip tightens slightly and you start to feel the restriction. His other hand hand digs deep into the wood behind your back for leverage, and he takes you somewhere entirely new.

“Oh my god. I can feel your body fighting for it.” He grunted against your lips. “Shit!”

Your eyes roll entirely backwards and your legs come together in some weak attempt at a defense as your body just kind of explodes on his dick. Is it squirting? Is it just another orgasm? Is he ripping you apart from the inside? Who knows? Not you, that’s for damn sure. The last thing you’re even fully conscious for is your fingers grabbing at his waist to pull him desperately against you. Maybe he cums. Again. You’re not sure. By the time you come too, the entire world is lopsided, and you still can’t breathe.

“We’re gonna have to pay for that.” Shawn wheezed against your neck.

“Mmmm...what?”

“The desk, baby. The desk.”

You peer down at something that isn’t your person for the first time notice that the world had not gone lopsided. Instead some of the legs on the desk had just completely given up at being legs. Oh well.

“That’s hot.”

He chuckled. “Yea? Broken furniture get you going?”

“Mhm. You wanna try and break the bed too?”

“I just came in you not twenty seconds ago.” Shawn sighed running his thumb along your cheek. “But, you’re so fucking sexy. Yes. Yes let’s go.”

“Think you can still lift me?”

He doesn’t dignify that with a response. Instead just grabs you up and stumbles his way towards your room. Thank god for gyms and thank god for Coachella. What a hell of a woman.

****

September in Toronto was your favorite time of the year. The temperature dropped a little bit, all of the kids were back in school, just as the city was becoming it’s most beautiful. You thrived in September. And when you were at your happiest it tended to have really good effects on Shawn. He fed off whatever energy you put off, and he loved seeing you happy more than anything in the world. So when some asshole named Andrew decides that he’s going to take the love of your life away from you in PRIME apple picking season, excuse you for feeling like someone was trying to rain on your parade.

“Baby it is a three day trip. We can go apple picking the second I get off the plane.” Shawn assured you as you watched glumly while he packed his life away from you.

“It won’t be the same. The temperature on Saturday was going to be perfect. They have the adult hayrides with the spiked cider and everything.” You mumbled.

He dropped one of his shirts and came to crawl into bed with you, warm hands coming to cradle your face like always.

“And it will be just as perfect when I get back. Because I’ll be with you. It’s just a quick trip to New York to meet with the label. I’ll be back before you know it.”

You fist your fingers in his sweatshirt in a feeble attempt to keep him there with you.

“That’s not true. I always know it when you’re gone. Always.”

He sighed softly. “I know. It gets a little harder every year to be away from you too. But three days, and then I’m yours. We can pick apples and make our own cider and bake your famous apple crisp and watch movies. You can not go into work. It’ll be perfect, aye?”

You frown but he kisses at your cheeks and your lips until you smile for him. It’s so annoying.

“Besides by the time I get back you’ll be in your ovulating window. I’ll be back just in time.”

You had drastically shifted your approach post Coachella. Shawn stopped making appointments with the gynecologists and the fertility specialists. You’d had a really vulnerable and honest conversation that hurting yourselves mentally and emotionally wasn’t going to be the way you became parents. So the plan became to just take the pressure out of it. You still had sex during your ovulation period every month, amongst a lot of non-ovulation sex as well, and if after a year you got nothing than it would be time to look into alternative options.

You scrunch your face up as he presses more kisses against your neck.

“You track my ovulation?” You asked.

“Yes. It’s incredibly easy on this little app I have. Now don’t be sad anymore, please?”

Your fingers scratch at his scalp and he practically purs still.

“Fine.”

“I love you, don’t ‘fine’ me.”

“I love you too.”

Shawn heads off to the airport leaving you home in a big ass house by your lonesome. You get the fireplace going and set about making yourself something for dinner. Nothing feels off at all. It’s just a normal day. You have to decide whether to do stir fry or tacos, but that’s about it. You set up the rice cooker before hopping into the shower for a much needed jam session with one of your favorite playlists. You figure a deep conditioning might do you some good since your person isn’t even around to play with your hair tonight.

You’re at the island chopping onions when your eyes trail up to the calendar on the fridge. It held random dates, usually when Shawn had business to attend to, so that you weren’t in the dark. You peered at the calendar and just noticed your ovulation dates and your period listed in pink marker. Shawn had taken to putting them up there for his own memory. And mostly because you were god awful with dates, which in hindsight was very telling.

You peered back down at the cutting board as you diced your onion before a little bell went off in your tummy. Your eyes moved back up to the board as your hand kept moving on the cutting board. There wasn’t time to question anything as you sliced your finger like an amateur.

“Shit.” You hissed as your finger pooled with a little droplet of blood.

You headed straight for the sink, letting the water turn red for a few seconds as you cleaned your wound. It was the visual of the blood that convinced you to count backwards. Again you were shit at time so you had to do it twice. But sure e-fucking-nough you might just be the dumbest fucker alive.

You ran straight for your phone dialing up the only number you could think to call in times of crisis, food and everything completely forgotten.

“Oh thank God you called.” Stu whimpered. “The in-laws are here and if I have to listen to Betty tell me one more time that my fucking crudite is wrong I’m gonna fix her a crudi-taint and call it a day.”

“This is an emergency, bitch. Forget the crudite!”

*Forty-five minutes later*

“I got one of every color and kind! A gallon of apple juice and also a snickers bar because I am stressed and I don’t even have a uterus!”

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

He stopped at some really bougie ass boutique and bought them matching scarves on his way home. He thought it might be a good “honey I’m home, please don’t hate me” gift. The meeting with Andrew had been to discuss some soft releases the label was looking to him to put out. He had some friends who needed features and wanted him to get on them. It would be a build up to his first album in three years. Which meant he kind of needed to make an album. That was a problem for another day though. For now he just wanted to take his person apple picking.

“Babe?!” He called dropping his keys into the bowl and tugging his bag behind him. “I’m ready to pick apples!”

She’s not in the living room. Sometimes when he had to go away she would take to the couch instead of their bedroom in protest, but the blanket on the back of the couch is still folded. The dining room is immaculately clean, which throws him slightly for a loop. Then in the kitchen he comes across a massacre of treats. She’d really gone to town. There was a cake, brownies, and fudge at first glance. He peered into the freezer to see that she’d somehow found the time to make three different flavored ice-creams from scratch. Wild. He wasn’t concerned because she always did stress baking when he was away, even if this time was quite...intense.

“Honey we’re gonna have to start donating your stress baking! It’s gonna send us both to an early grave.”

He reached for a piece of fudge anyway and took to the stairs when his very lovely human neglected to meet him downstairs.

He finds her in their bathroom cleaning the tub. With a toothbrush.

“Y/n? What’s going on?”

Her head popped up, her eyes widening.

“You’re home.”

He nodded frowning at her. “I”m home. Come here.”

He reached for her hands, helping her off the floor. His arms snuck under her big t-shirt tracing at the soft skin of her hips. She was tense enough to burst, but she seemed to lean into his touch.

“What’s up? What’s going on with you?” He asked softly.

“Why would you think something’s going on? Nothing’s going on.” She lied.

“Since when do you clean the bathtub with a toothbrush? Or at all for that matter. I always clean the bathtub.”

“I don’t know. I just figured I’d get some stuff around the house done. No big deal.”

“Okay. And the bakery pop up shop you started in our kitchen?” He chuckled squeezing her tight. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? You know you can always talk to me.”

She sighed, her arms coming to wrap around him as well.

“I’m okay, honest. Guess I just got a little anxious with you being away is all. I’m good now. I promise.”

He nuzzled their noses together and kissed her for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Okay. Maybe some apple picking would help? I hear they have adult hayrides with spiked apple cider.”

She smiled for him finally. “Yea. That would help.”

His favorite y/n was always y/n in the fall. Her soft, cozy sweaters, boots, and those leggings that mapped her thighs out perfectly. She was so beautiful it hurt. When he wraps her new scarf around her neck for her and she shimmies her shoulders a little, his heart soares. God he loved her. He loved date nights, he loved spending time with his best friend, and he loved showing her off to the world. It was his favorite thing in the world to do.

She loves apple picking. And so they drive out there armed with baskets and bags galore. Without fail every year by the third or fourth week, she will be pissed off at how many apples he “let her buy”, as if he has a say in anything that is taking place. But, in the moment it’s the cutest shit ever. And he takes pictures of her leaning up into the trees to get the best choice. They feed each other apples and kiss under one of the trees. It’s sort of perfect.

He saw a family packing up their car as the sun began to set and the air got colder. He watched a mom lift her son up in the air and kiss and hold him close. It caused a painful squeeze in his chest, and he was thankful y/n wasn’t around to see them. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about family trips to the orchard. He had. He thought about chasing tiny legs through rows of trees, of stopping grabby fingers from digging gross apples out of the dirt. He knew y/n and him had had quite the different upbringings, but this was what he’d always wanted. But, he meant it wholeheartedly when he said he’d rather have her than anything else. He believed wholeheartedly that she was meant for him and he for her, that their energies had probably started as one once upon a time, and that he wasn't meant to be without her. Whatever his life was meant to look like, it had to revolve completely and totally around her. There was just a tiny, selfish part of him that would like to be able to have them both.

When the backseat is overloaded with apples, they walk hand in hand to the store they have set up. The sun sinks low in the sky and there’s a little folksy band playing by an open campfire. There are twinkly lights and tables set up all around. It’s kind of romantic as all hell. She smiles at him like she always has, like somehow he’s worth as much to her as she is to him. He’s so fucking in love with her, it’s insane.

“Do you want me to get us some of those hard ciders before the hayride?” He asked squeezing her fingers.

She shook her head. “Actually can I try one of the cider slushies instead? Wanna switch it up.”

“Of course. I’ll be right back.”

They climb into the hayride just like all the other couples. Toronto is home and it really feels like home because no one shoves a camera in his face when he’s trying to cuddle with his person. And that feels really important to him. Her privacy, her happiness. It’s all he cares for.

“You happy?” He asked squeezing his arm around her.

She nodded and tucked her face into his neck. “So happy. Love you, ya know.”

“I love you too. So much.You’re the light of life.”

“Stop it.” She giggled.

“No. Never. You’re everything.”

“Yea...You are too.”

They order chinese food on the way home. She takes a shower with him and lets him run body wash over the parts of her that he cherishes the most. They climb into bed together, soft and warm and sated. He finds himself hopeful that every day will be this way, that every night could find him so lucky.

“Shawn?” She whispered, her fingers tangling in his necklace.

“Yes, my love?”

“I gotta tell you something...Or I guess maybe show you something.”

Her fingers trembled against his throat, and he knew they were finally getting to what must have caused her to bake everything they had in their home.

“Okay.” He murmured calmly. “You can always share anything with me. You know that, right?”

“Yes.” She smiled. “Yes, I know.”

She leaned up out of bed and reached over to the nightstand on her side. She hid it behind her back and turned to him, the suspense slowly driving him insane.

“Baby, what is it?”

There are moments in life that you never forget. Moments that, on your deathbed you could recount with startling clarity, right down to the way the air felt. This was that moment for him. He remembered that her night shirt was black and white stripes. She was wearing black underwear that night with a lacy back. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, and she smelled like apples and cinnamon and lavender and smoke. Because even after a shower the campfire smell would stick around for days. Her eyes had a wicked glint to them. A happiness so vast and so deep that he wanted to cry just looking at her. And then she holds it out for him and it’s like his world explodes, or expands infinitely, because there it fucking is. Right there.

“But--what? Is….is it?...is it?” He mumbled like an idiot his heart picking up speed in his chest.

The glint turns to actual tears in her eyes and she nods softly at him.

“I took fifteen of them. And the doctor fit me in last minute to make sure. I’m a little over a month along.” She tells him.

“I’m--I’m gonna be a dad?” He whispered, his throat closing up. “You’re gonna be a mum?”

“I hate to burst your harry potter bubble, but our little bean is most certainly going to call me mom.” She giggled. “It’s real. I promise. I’m pregnant.”

And he just fucking falls apart. It’s the hardest he’s cried since he broke his ankle at age thirteen. And he has to keep blinking through every tear because he needs to see her, needs to never take his eyes off her again, because she’s everything. She’s giving him the greatest gift in the world. As if giving herself to him had not been too much, had not been more than he could ever deserve. She was going to create life with him, for him. She was going to be the mother to his baby.

He’s never hugged anyone in his life as hard as he hugs her then. Like tackles her down to the bed and squeezes the hell out of her. She laughs and they cry and they hug and they kiss. It’s the greatest happiest he’s ever known.

“ I love you so much.” He gasped. “We made a baby. We’re gonna have a baby.”

She nodded running her fingers through his head. “We’re gonna have a baby.”

There’s more laughter. There are a hell of a lot more tears. And he completely pulls her body into his own and refuses to let her go. Not that she’s asking. It’s his baby after all. His babies. Holy shit.

“There’s something I gotta do.” He whispered in her ear.

“Yea? What’s that?”

He crawled gently down her body nestling himself between her legs. The second he reaches for her t-shirt she giggles and squirms.

“Are you really gonna eat me out to celebrate me being pregnant?”

He stared up at her, mortified from between her legs.

“No! Oh my god, y/n. Our child can hear you! I simply came down here to kiss your belly and talk to my baby in there. Get your head out of the gutter.”

She rolled her eyes. “The baby doesn’t have ears yet jackass, but excuse me.”

“Don’t listen to her baby.” He grumbled rubbing his thumb into soothing circles along her belly button. “Daddy is gonna sing to you all the time. I’m gonna take such good care of you and mommy forever okay?”

She lets him talk to her belly for the rest of the night. It’s the most incredible thing he could ever ask for.

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