#So it's still trauma in a way. Just not the way the song describes. ...But STILL. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

grimoireofhayley · 19 hours ago

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Shackles

Leon S. Kennedy x TF141!Reader

Inspired by both events of Modern Warfare 2, Resident Evil (Games & Animated Movies) and the Song Shackles by Steven Rodriguez

Shackles Master List

Warnings: Smut (Eventually), Swearing, Blood & Gore, Flirting, BDSM (Eventually), Implied Mental Health Struggles, Alcoholism, Trauma, Torture, Eventual Kidnapping , Age Gap (Leon is 48 and reader is 25), Enemies to Lovers, Leon is an absolute ass at first, Slight Ghost x Reader x Soap if you squint, Abuse, Masochism

A/n: I apologize if reader seems like a Mary-sue… I couldn’t help it, I wanted the reader to seem more badass/Independent… I’m not very good at describing it, however, I hope you enjoy. 😊 Also, this song inspired the way this chapter played out lol. Listen to it as you read, you won’t regret it.

Chapter 4:

Price, Soap, Ghost and Gaz were standing to the side, having watched the events unfold in front of them. They were trying to contain their amusement, but the entire situation was just too good to be true.

Soap slapped his knee, bursting out into laughter. “That was bloody brilliant.”

Price shook his head, a smile playing at his lips. “That’s one hell of a woman,” he chuckled, “Thank god she’s on our team.”

Ghost let out a low whistle, still in shock at what he had just witnessed. “I don’t know if I’m more surprised or impressed. That was some serious power she had over him.”

Soap chuckled again, “She’s got ‘em right where she wants him.”

Price nodded in agreement, “Seems that way. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so rattled before, even when I held him at gun point…”

The four men continued to watch, all of them amused and entertained by the situation. They knew Leon wouldn’t recover from this.

Leon stood up, dusting himself off, as he looked over at the four, a look of embarrassment on his face. He could hear the sound of their laughter, it was annoying.

He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. He knew he had been humbled for maybe the first time in his life, and it was by a woman no less.

And a woman that he can’t get out of his head.

Soap snickered, “Look at his face. I dinnae think I’ve ever seen him look so defeated.”

Gaz smirked, “The look of a man who’s been put in his place, isn’t it beautiful?”

Ghost chuckled, “Looks like he finally got what he deserved. Cocky ‘lil bastard.”

All the men laughed again, clearly enjoying Leon’s current state.

Leon watched as (Y/n) brushed past him, her eyes avoiding his gaze. He wanted to call out to her, to say something, anything, but the words refused to come.

He felt a mix of humiliation and desire warring within him, and he didn’t know how to handle it. He could hear the laughs and taunts of the others in the background, mocking him for his current state, and it only made things worse.

Leon continued to watch her, her scent lingering in the air, his eyes following her every movement. He couldn’t believe what had just happened.

He was so used to being in control, but she had completely turned the tables, and he was struggling to process it.

He turned to look at Price, Soap, Ghost and Gaz, all still laughing at his expense. He scowled, “Piss off, all of you…”

“What’s the matter, Kennedy? Can’t take a little humiliation?” Soap taunted, still chuckling.

Ghost joined in, “Looks like someone can’t ‘andle a strong independent woman.”

Price had a smirk on his face, enjoying this more than the others. “I don’t know what’s funnier, you being put in your place like that, or the fact that you were practically drooling over our lil’ lass…”

Leon’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment as the rest of (Y/n)’s teammates continued to laugh at him. He knew they would never let him live this down.

He took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. “She just took me by surprise, that’s all,” he muttered.

Soap chuckled. “If by surprise you mean ‘completely knocked off yer feet’, then yeah, sure.”

Ghost raised an eyebrow, a smug expression behind the fabric of his mask, “You seemed to be enjoyin’ it, a ‘lil too much if you ask me…”

Leon rolled his eyes. “Like you’d fare any better in my position.”

Soap’s smirk widened. “Oh, I dunno about that. I think I could handle her.”

Ghost grunted, “You’d be on your ass in ten seconds flat.” His London-cockney accent deepening with each word he spoke.

Leon felt a pang of jealousy at the thought of Soap trying to hit on (Y/n). Something about the idea annoyed the hell out of him.

He clenched his jaw, trying to keep his expression neutral. “You wouldn’t stand a chance.”

She scoffed, her hands tightening around her weapon. “Enough, the lot of you.” She snivelled, “I am not a bet, or some whore you bed during missions..” (Y/n) groaned, “Just because I have tits and an ass does not mean you can treat me like a toy or act as if I am not here.” She brought her rifle up, pointing it to the ceiling again, leaning on one foot, “And besides, neither of you can handle me.” She barked, trudging past the males ahead of her.

Soap and the others fell silent, stunned by (Y/n)'s sharp response. They hadn't expected such a vehement reaction from her, at least, not to her own comrades… She knew they were kidding, right? Usually she’d be in on it, joking around with them, or maybe it was because Leon had gotten inside her head? Yeah, that had to be the case. Fuckin’ bastard.

Leon, however, felt a strange mixture of admiration and arousal as he watched her storm past them. Her confidence was both attractive and intimidating, and he found himself wanting to see more of it.

Gaz spoke up, his tone apologetic, "We didn't mean anything by it, lass."

“I know you didn’t…” She softly spoke, walking towards Captain Price. “Can we focus on the mission?” Her tone was neutral.

Price nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. “O’ course.”

The team regained their composure, refocusing their attention on the task at hand. Leon couldn't help but steal glances at her as they prepared for their next move. Despite her earlier outburst, he found himself more intrigued by her than ever even if she did humiliate him.

The groans and moans of the undead were heard like an orchestra of gurgling, loitering about outside of the Raccoon City Police Station, ramming into the doors, windows and walls trying to get in. No doubt from the commotion inside, especially when (Y/n) riddled the ceiling with bullets earlier - the noise brought unwanted attention.

Leon and the TF141 were swarmed and the things outside… were hungry.

The team prepared their weapons, getting ready for the imminent onslaught of undead. Leon checked his gear, securing his pistol and ammo. He looked to the others, nodding in readiness.

Gaz looked out through the window, “They’re practically pounding on the door. We can’t stay in here for much longer…”

Soap scanned the area, “Looks like our only option is to fight our way out?” He said more of a question than anything, feeling the unease set in from the mission.

“Fuck no.” Price spoke, “We need to come up with another plan first and fast.”

(Y/n) sighed, placing her weapon behind her, securely strapping it over her shoulder.

She had her own plan and it was only going to work if the idiots in front of her stayed distracted, or else they wouldn’t let her go out there on her own; they’d fight her against it.

(Y/n) had eyed a vehicle near by that was behind the horde, noise was the only thing that could get them to bugger off and away from the building, it’s the only way any of them have a chance to escape and get to the hospital - point B.

(Y/n) tiptoed around the men, heading to the exit door that was nearest to the car, she was on high alert, but she was determined, the plan had to work.

Crouching, she rested her hand above her switchblade, ready to pull it out in case a stray zombie spotted her as she opened the exit door.

Making her way to the car, she opened the hood of it.

Yes, this was going to work. There’s no way it won’t.

Bending over, (Y/n) smirked to herself, severing the wire to the car alarm. She closed the hood just as the summer breeze picked up, ridden with plague, as it blew her hair all over the place.

She pulled her leather glove tighter on her hand using her teeth, then made a fist, punching the glass to the drivers side, reaching her hand to the tab that locked the car, unlocking it.

Leon, Soap, Ghost and Gaz were still in the main room, discussing their strategy. They were oblivious to (Y/n)’s absence, focused on their own conversation.

Leon ran a hand through his brunette hair, deep in thought. "We need to be careful. If we alert the horde to our presence, we'll be overrun in seconds."

Soap nodded in agreement, "Aye, we need to find a way to distract them."

Ghost only looked ahead of him, watching as the dead continued to throw themselves at the building, gripping his weapon.

Captain Price was silent, deep in thought as his eyes flickered; something, or someone was missing…

Leon continued to strategize with the others, his mind occupied with figuring out the best approach. He noticed Captain Price was distracted, his eyes darting around the room, as if searching for something. Suddenly, he realized it, "Wait a minute...where's (Y/n)?”

(Y/n) opened the car door, closing it, adrenaline pumping through her.

She rummaged around, highjacking the car’s engine to get it to start, “C’mon…” She spoke quietly, trying to get a spark. “You can do it, baby..” She grunted, finally getting a reaction from the vehicle. She silently cheered as the headlights turned on, directing the soft glow to the Police Station where the others were.

Leon, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz turned towards the headlights, their eyes narrowing as the car engine roared to life.

Gaz's eyes widened, "Is she...?"

Soap smirked, "Looks like the lass has a plan of her own."

Ghost sniffled, "Reckless, but it just might work."

Captain Price raised an eyebrow, a hint of admiration in his eyes.

Leon now felt a mix of worry and pride as he watched (Y/n).

He turned to the others, “Is she out of her goddamn mind? She's going to get herself killed.”

Soap chuckled, clearly enjoying the situation. “Looks like she's got things under control.”

Gaz rolled his eyes, "Or she's about to get herself killed. You know how she is, bloody woman has a death wish.”

(Y/n) gripped the steering wheel, revving the engine, gaining some attention from the walkers, she quickly turned the radio on with a flick of her wrist and Hollywood Undead’s song ‘Riot’ started to play…

“I've been searching for an answer, but I ain't found one, I've been known to tear shit up and go off like a gun. I've been drinking way too much, but now I think I'm done…” The lyrics echoed loudly, alerting any, if not, all dead nearby.

“Okay, new plan…” She chuckled, revving the engine again and the tires skidded as she drove.

The men watched in astonishment as (Y/n) floored the gas pedal, heading straight for the horde of undead.

Soap whistled, "Bloody hell, she's doing it."

Ghost's eyes widened, "Is she nuts?"

"Apparently so," Gaz muttered.

Captain Price chuckled, "Can't say I'm surprised."

Leon couldn't believe what he was seeing. (Y/n), the woman who had just put him in his place, was now driving headfirst into a horde of zombies. It was both madness and impressive.

He shook his head, "She's going to get herself killed." He repeated.

Gaz smirked, "Or she's just being the badass we all know she is."

Ghost chuckled, "Aye, that's our (Y/n) for ya.."

The car plowed through the undead, sending them flying in every direction. (Y/n) expertly maneuvered the vehicle, narrowly avoiding the grasping hands of the zombies.

Soap, Ghost and Gaz were in awe, watching the spectacle unfold. Leon was still in shock, torn between admiration and concern.

The team could barely believe what (Y/n) was doing. Driving straight through a horde of undead was impressive enough, but to then reverse into the police station with only one hand on the wheel…it was downright crazy.

Soap groaned, “She's got balls.”

Gaz shook his head, "I'll never doubt the lass again."

Ghost just chuckled, unable to hide his smirk. Even Captain Price had a hint of a smile on his face, they had trained her well.

She poked her head out of the shattered window, waving her arm at them, her other hand still gripping the wheel. “Well, what are you dumbasses waitin’ for? Get in!” She ordered, turning the music off.

The team snapped out of their shock, quickly following (Y/n)’s command. They hurried to the car, climbing into the backseat and piling in, Leon found himself sitting in the passenger seat, their shoulders brushing against one another. He tried to ignore the flicker of electricity he felt at the contact, but eventually gave in to it as he sucked in a shaky breath.

Leon closed the door, "You're absolutely batshit." he said, unable to hide the admiration in his voice.

(Y/n) only shot him a wink.

Gaz, Soap, Ghost and Price were squished in the backseat, trying to find room to breathe. Ghost was particularly uncomfortable, grumbling about the lack of space, “Aye, you couldna find a bigger vehicle?”

(Y/n) laughed as she noticed Ghost's discomfort. "Sorry, mate, but beggars can't be choosers in a zombie apocalypse." She glanced in the rearview mirror at the team squished in the backseat. "Sorry lads, this was the best I could do."

Gaz tried to readjust himself, his elbow bumping into Soap's side. "Yeah, I can feel that."

Soap winced, but couldn’t resist adding a tease, "At least it's a bit cozy back here, eh?"

Ghost grumbled, trying his best to shoot Soap a glare, “If by cozy, you mean claustrophobic, then sure, it’s fuckin’ cozy.”

Captain Price just chuckled at their banter. "Stop squabbling and just be glad we're not being eaten alive right about now."

Leon leaned back in his seat, still in awe at (Y/n)’s driving. "You really are something else, you know that?"

(Y/n) shot him a playful smirk, "I know."

Gaz and Soap snickered in the back, knowing full well how much Leon liked that smirk.

Ghost groaned, growing more and more irritated by the cramped space. "Can we get movin’? I'm being crushed over here."

“Yes, sir.” (Y/n) mock saluted Ghost, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Hold on tight boys.” She purred, getting ready to move.

The team braced themselves for the impending speed, grabbing onto whatever they could to steady themselves.

Soap, as always, had a quip ready, "Well, this is just like a roller-coaster, innit?"

Gaz, who was smushed between Soap and Ghost, tried to find a stable position. "Aye, a roller-coaster with no safety bar."

Ghost grumbled, "I'd rather be chased by the undead than stuck in this car any longer." He attempted to adjust his long legs, but to no avail, he couldn’t budge.

Captain Price just chuckled at their banter. "You lads need to lighten up, it's not so bad."

Leon couldn't help but grin at the interaction.

(Y/n) leaned forward, quickly turning the music back on. “Aye, this is going to be a bumpy ride.” She warned.

The car screeched as (Y/n) slammed the pedal to the floor, the team holding on for dear life in the backseat.

Soap chuckled, "Bloody hell, she's a maniac behind the wheel."

Ghost gritted his teeth, "I think 'maniac' is being kind."

Gaz had to hold back a grin, clearly enjoying the thrill of the ride.

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builtbybrokenbells · 9 months ago

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Rotten Apple | JTK

Karmic relationships indicate feeling or expressing a passionate response very early on in a relationship. Oftentimes, instant chemistry is mutually felt. Sometimes, the drain of that connection or addiction to a partner is described as exhausting rather than feeling calmly settled in a grounded partnership. (Elizabeth Keohan, LCSW-C, LICSW, LCSW)

Listen while reading: (the entire fic is based off this song so I highly suggest at least reading the lyrics before reading 😁)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 16k

Warnings: PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS BEFORE READING AS THIS STORY COULD BE POTENTIALLY HARMFUL/UPSETTING TO SOME READERS//SMUT 18+, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), sir kink, choking, touch of orgasm denial, dom/sub, possessiveness, jealousy, degradation, name calling, praise, rough sex, toxic themes/relationships, heavy implications/explanations of cheating/infidelity, actual cheating/infidelity, chronic cheaters, gaslighting/manipulative phrases, fighting, arguing, crying, insulting, mentions of bad relationships/relationship trauma, mistresses/home wrecking, self hatred/self sabotage, remorse/regret, depression, anxiety, (lots) angst, (some) fluff, drinking, swearing, sorry if i miss any!

and im back 😙 please tread carefully with this one if any of the aforementioned warnings are personal to you. this definitely isn’t some people’s cup of tea! aside from that, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🤍 (so sorry, very lightly edited. just wanted to get this posted so i can keep going with more stuff 😁) (also another side note, I do not condone cheating at all. was just an idea that sparked some creativity is all)

Innocence is over

Hey ah na na, over

Ignorance is spoken

Hey ah na na, spoken

Confidence is broken

Hey ah na na broken

Sustenance is stolen

Hey ah na na, stolen

Arrogance is potent

Hey ah na na, potent, yeah

“Y/N!” Your name screamed over the busy chatter of the crowd around you, catching your attention and turning your head.

House parties had always been so overrated, and since high school, it seemed the scene hadn’t changed a bit. Even in your late twenties, the spill of alcohol on the floor made your soles sticky and the haze in the air choked you as you breathed. The home you were in was familiar, but certainly not comfortable, and the memories that lived inside the walls were haunting as they flashed before your eyes. The crowd of people around you only made it harder to escape the stalemate remembering had put you in. Still, you pushed a smile on to your face, holding the hand in yours a little tighter as you marched forward toward the greeting.

So many questions flooded your mind as you closed in on the perpetrator of your punishment. You knew they would all be here; they invited you, after all. The text message exuding formalities and lacking substance was the whole reason you stepped foot in the door in the first place, and you knew without a doubt that they would be waiting to greet you soon as you showed.

Well, three of them, anyway.

You swallowed your pride, leading your company through the swarm of bodies. The weaving was tiresome, and you had only just begun navigating your way through an exhausting journey. It was too early to be tired, too soon to be so cynical, yet it was all you could do. Something about the story was too repetitive for you to believe the night would end any differently than you imagined when you received the invitation.

The questions continued to beat against your skull, twisting around the guitar riffs and raspy voices flowing through the speakers in the living room. It made for a violent pair, and your eyes began aching from the pressure behind them. Your body was telling you it was a bad idea, but you couldn’t listen. You had faith that the night would be different, that you would be different, stronger than you were before.

You could turn around, submit to your already guilty conscience and run out the door. You could pretend you never heard your name at all, and more importantly, pretend you never read the message in the first place. You responded too fast to a person who should have been long deleted from your contact list, but if you played the game well enough, you could climb out of the hole you already dug yourself in. You could come out on top of this, you could conquer the world that previously held you back from succeeding. All it took was turning around, leaving, walking away from him.

For some reason, your feet continued forward, neglecting every warning your psyche could give. They carried you far enough that you landed before the person you knew you should walk away from.

No, not the person.

Just the closest one to him.

“Hey, Josh.” His name felt like poison on your tongue, already seeping through the gaps of your teeth and searing holes into the flesh. You could feel the pain deep into your jaw, running down the back of your throat and circling around your neck. The sensation was lethal, but it was addicting. Something about the brothers made you a sucker for the pain. You hated the names now, but you hated yourself more for never having the willpower not to speak them.

“I’m glad you came! I didn’t really think you would message me back.” He confessed, leaping forward and extending his arms outward.

He wanted a hug, innocent and warm, a sure way to greet you with all of the love he still had for you.

To you, it was none of those things. Instead, it served as a reminder of your catastrophic failures and the life you once lived. A life that was painful, ugly and cruel, but still seemed shiny, like a dream you craved to see in your deepest sleep. The person that used to hug Josh Kiszka was not someone you wanted to be, but it was someone you could not escape, someone who only showed herself when she was around him. You could not be around Josh without being near him, too, and for that reason alone you had pinned Josh with his brothers crimes, too.

Still, your arms wrapped around his torso, pulling him closer and torturing yourself with the scent of his cologne. As his arms closed in around you, the anguish of the familiar touch nearly sent you to your knees.

It wasn’t the same, but it was the closest thing to what you truly wanted.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, I figured I’d stop by and say hi at least.” You replied, your head still swimming with uncertainty over the interaction. “I should probably be on my way soon, anyway. I can’t stay long.”

“Oh come on, stay a while! Don’t leave yet, you just got here!”

What game was he playing?

He knew the consequences of your presence in their lives, and he was lighting a match that would fuel an unstoppable fire.

“Maybe just for a little while.” You gave a soft smile, hiding your longing for the connection you had so long ago. His words were kind, more generous than they should be, but the weight of your past mistakes were heavy between you.

Maybe that was why you didn’t have the heart to turn him down. Subconsciously, you were stuck in some repetitive cycle of trying to right wrongs you were not fully responsible for.

“Who is this, anyway?” Josh turned to the man standing next to you, eyeing him carefully as he took in the sight before him. His gaze traveled from his face down to his arm, piecing it together once he saw your fingers still interlocked with his.

“This is Cole…” you said, slowly while Josh’s eyes moved back to meet your own. “My boyfriend.” You didn’t need to say the word. The implication was already painfully obvious, and all you did was rub salt in your open wounds.

Why did you bring him with you?

Why did you come at all?

“I see,” Josh grinned, but it was just as fake as your own cheeriness. You were both thinking the same thing, without a doubt for the future when the night came to an end. “It’s nice to meet you, Cole. I’m Josh.” He extended his hand for your new boyfriend to shake, the formality only slightly off putting as Josh’s eyes remained locked with yours.

‘Not tonight, Josh. Not this time.’ You tried to plead with him, silently telling him that tonight would be different than all the ones that came before. ‘It’s different now. You have to believe me.’

He did not, and you could not blame him. You did not even believe yourself.

By the end of the night, your relationship with the boy beside you would be no more. Jake Kiszka would see to that, and your undying desire for him would solidify it. It was a matter of time before you crossed his path, and not long after that would the incessant cycle resume exactly where it left off.

“Nice to meet you man.” Your boyfriend's voice was cheerful, and unlike yours, genuine. If only he knew the hurt he would endure, he would have left long before he ever experienced love at your hands.

No matter how hard you tried, it always ended the same way. No matter who it was, they were never able to compare to the boy who forever stole your heart.

“So how do you two know each other?” Cole asked, looking down at you now. You bit the tip of your tongue, standing stoic for a moment as you tried to come up with a quick lie. Without being too obvious, you tried to silently warn Josh to keep his mouth shut. You should have known better.

You have always known better.

“She’s never told you about Jake?” Josh laughed, finding the notion incredulous. He was too drunk to lie, but it wasn’t like he could ever do it sober. Your cheeks flushed and your eyes pointed towards the floor, feeling your heart jump to your throat and your head begin to ache. The poison of Jake’s name melted your tongue entirely, leaving you wordless and unable to defend yourself.

“Jake?” Your boyfriend asked, wearily speaking the name aloud as if it were a curse he was desperate to avoid. “Your uh… your ex?” He wanted clarification, or assurance that he was wrong, but it was something you could not give to him because he was right.

“Y-yeah.” You choked out, feeling your throat begin to close and air become scarce. “This is his brother.”

Innocence is over

Cole formed a tight-lipped smile, but did not let go of your hand. In an instant, he understood that attending the house party was not a mindless effort at a drunken date. He was not meeting your old friends, and he was not out to have a good time. Instead, the intent ran much deeper, and he was being used in a pissing contest for bragging rights to the ex he had always felt inferior to.

You wanted to assure him it wasn’t like that, but it was, and speaking would get you no further ahead of the game.

Why would Josh tell him? Why would he say it like that, as if Jake was the reason why you were there?

You closed your eyes, silencing your brain for a moment as you digested the truth.

Jake was the reason why you were there, and he was trying to spare Cole the heartbreak.

“He was barely an ex, Cole. You know that.” You spoke, bargaining with the distaste already forming in his heart.

Out of all of the dishonesty you had already dealt, that was the truth. An ex was not what you would classify Jake as, because you barely dated him. In fact, you hadn’t really dated him at all. You spent weeks secluded behind the walls of the very house you stood in now, nights wrapped up in him, tainting his sheets with the smell of your shampoo, but you were never his girlfriend.

You wanted to believe that if you had stayed just a little while longer, gave him a little bit more, maybe you would have been, but holding on to that belief was painful more than it ever served a comfort.

“Right,” he whispered, his hand still in yours. It felt wrong, just like it had the first time he ever held it. Cole never should have been in the middle of this, because he never should have been yours at all. You had no idea why you ever said yes to the title of girlfriend, because you never wanted it, and you had no idea why you invited him here tonight, especially knowing how it would end.

“Either way, it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to see Jake, I came to see you.” You said, pointing the finger at Josh to get yourself out of the spotlight. “You asked me, remember? What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t come to celebrate your new album?” You forced another smile, begging them both to believe that’s why you really showed up. Cole seemed to relax slightly at the sound of your words, but his chest still ached at the idea of being in Jake Kiszka’s house.

Was Josh encouraging you to fall back into old habits? Was Josh playing martyr for a cause that would only hurt everyone in the crossfire?

You could not believe he wanted to see you, because if he missed you so much, he would have shown up at your door. You would have went for coffee or shared dinner like you did so many times before, but instead he invited you to a party hosted by the one man you needed to stay away from.

“The worst.” He joked, playing along with your poor excuses. An awkward silence hung heavy between the the three of you. Nobody knew what to say, because no words could ever turn the conversation to a positive tone.

“Did you want a drink, baby?” Cole asked, looking over his shoulder to the liquor bottles on the kitchen table. You followed his gaze, eager for him to leave you alone so you could pry into Josh’s head.

“Yes, please.” You nodded, giving him a smile.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” He said, clearly looking for a way out of the tense situation.

“I’ll be right here.” You promised. He seemed reluctant to leave you, but after a shared glance and silent reassurance, he retreated to the kitchen.

As soon as he was out of earshot, you turned to Josh again, desperate for an answer.

“Why did you invite me, Josh?” You asked, your tone turning grievous in an instant. The sweetness you held seconds before disappeared without a trace.

“He wanted me to.” Josh admitted, giving a shrug of his shoulder. “I didn’t know you’d bring a date.” He continued, his words more accusatory than you liked.

“Is it a crime?”

“When you know the consequences, yeah.” He answered, truthful with his response. “Listen, I’m happy to see you, Y/N. Whatever the fuck happens between you and Jake is none of my business. You’re my friend, and I’m glad you came, but I do think that you should be mindful of him before anything happens.”

“I’m not here to see Jake, Josh. I came because you invited me, because we’re friends. Remember, before all of this shit happened?”

“How could I forget?” He chuckled, thinking back fondly on the memories. Josh had been your friend first, the whole reason you knew Jake at all, but after all of the pain, your friendship with him seemed to get lost in the mess. “As much as I’d like to believe that you’re here to see me, we both know it’s not true.” He paused, thinking carefully before he spoke again. “And as much as I don’t want your new guy to get hurt, it would be nice to see you and Jake catch up, especially after it ended the way it did.”

“I’ve got nothing to say to him, Josh.” You crossed your arms over your chest, accentuating the cleavage in your already skimpy dress. You had picked it with Jake in mind, even if you would never admit it.

“You have lots to say, mama. We all know that.”

With that, a body presented itself beside you again and a drink was being offered to you. You sent Josh a pointed stare, letting the action finish the conversation for good. Josh nodded, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving a gentle squeeze before walking away.

Cole noticed, and you couldn’t blame him for his questioning gaze, but it did irritate you beyond belief. He was treading in waters too dangerous to survive.

Instead of asking, he opted to keep quiet in fear of the answer he would receive.

Ignorance is spoken

“It’s really nice of you to support Josh like that, even after Jake fucked you over.” Cole said, sending a small smile your way. You took a moment to admire him, his beauty, and his bare-faced stupidity.

“We’ve been friends for a long time. It’s the least I could do.” You shrugged, brushing off his sweet sentiments.

Cole knew you were not there to support Josh, but he was forcing himself to believe it. It was easier for him to digest, thinking that your intentions were friendly and honest. When he focused on the alternative for too long, he thought he would be sick.

Before you could respond, you were pulled into a whirlwind of emotion as your eyes fixated on something within the crowd. In the distance, you saw a flash of familiar brown hair. The sight made your stomach turn and your palms turn clammy.

He wanted you to come.

Josh’s words repeated in your head, making it hard to think of anything else. Jake wanted you there. He asked for you. He knew you would never answer if he asked you himself, because you had never been keen on giving him what he wanted.

That was yours and Jake's biggest problem; you wanted too much from each other, and neither of you had ever been very generous. He wanted more than you could give, and you wanted what he could not provide.

Despite knowing that about yourselves, there was this incessant temptation in both of your minds, forcing you to believe that you were the best the other could ever get, even if it never worked out, and even if all it ever caused was pain.

The familiar head was not pointed in your direction, but you were certain it would be soon. The two of you had an awful attachment to one another, the bond extending into the realm of spirituality and likely even far beyond it. If you walked in a room, he knew, no matter how far away or how invested he was in something else. If you left, your absence hung heavy in the air and haunted him, even if he did not witness you leave. He was completely in tune with you, knowing your next move without you saying a word.

Even if you tried to ignore it, you knew you felt it just the same when it came to his presence and absence.

He was a habit you couldn’t kick, a guilty pleasure and an addiction far more lethal than one to substance. You would search for him in every room, cry out for him and him alone in the darkest nights, and long for his company after he disappeared from sight. His voice was like venom, seeping under your skin and tainting the blood supply the minute it reached your ears. His eyes, easy to get lost in and your definite demise.

He was not good for you, and he never would be, but you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting him. He was the most karmic relationship you’d ever engaged in, punishing you for wrongs you’d committed long before you met him. At the same time, he was making you engage in far more at his hand than you ever believed possible. You didn’t want to want him, but it was impossible to deny. The thought of not needing him was obsolete, because you never knew a moment of peace after he walked into your life.

You could not be with him, and you knew even in the future it would never be in your cards, either. For some reason, even while knowing he was actively ruining your life, you jumped at the chance to love him one more time. You destroyed every opportunity given to you in favor of his twisted agenda, and you did it without regret or second thought. New relationships blossomed after he walked away from you, and failed when he decided to walk your way again. You needed to stay away, to put a boundary in place, but you loved his sin too much to refute it.

You had slowly come to terms with the fact Jake Kiszka would be your kryptonite until you took your dying breath. He was inescapable, and even if you would never truly be his, he would always have a part of you.

No, he would always have all of you, but he would never be yours to keep.

And just like the world ensured it a million times before, the head turned, and the familiar brown eyes seemed to be staring into your soul once more.

You couldn’t run, because he would always find you. You couldn’t run to him, because the boy by your side would know the truth behind the situation you had been trying so hard to keep a handle on. You were stuck, glued to the floor and locked in position until he decided to walk your way.

He was in control, and always had been. Since the moment you met him, you were happy to leave your fate in his hands, blindly trusting a man who only ever did what he could to fuck you over.

You couldn’t see all of his face, but you knew how beautiful he looked despite the crowd standing in his way. You could picture it crystal clear, the pout of his lips and the heavy-lidded eyes filled with lust. You knew the wrinkled furrow of his brow better than anything else in the world, and the softness of his skin and how good it felt under your touch.

As he stared, only his eyes visible to you, you knew he was envisioning all the same things.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Cole asked, his voice concerned. His hand on your back was excruciating, the overwhelming feeling of wrongness growing by the second.

You wanted to tell him, to send him away before he met the same fate as everyone who came before him, yet you couldn’t bear the thought of confessing all of your secrets to him. Some small part of you even believed you could avoid it this time, even whilst you felt the gravitational pull all the way across the room and through the crowd. You wanted to be the good guy and spare him, and you wanted to be the best person and end the cycle, but you knew neither would happen.

There were two reasons why you could not do those things; one being that Jake Kiszka made you into the worst version of yourself, and two, he was walking towards you now with no intent to slow.

“I-I’m okay,” you tried to assure him, but your voice was shaky and your words were weak. It did not take a genius to understand why, and as his eyes moved to look in the same direction of yours, his stomach was sick with fear. He did not know Jake by looks, but he knew you, and he knew that your pompous reaction would not be caused by anything other than him.

“Y/N, let’s go.” Cole said, trying to get you out of the situation before it began, but you were already in his sight, and there was no shying away. The hunter settled on prey, and you could only hope that Jake had enough kindness left in his heart to spare you from the suffering he so often inflicted upon you.

“I-I can’t.” You shook your head, noticing his grip move to your arm. He was trying to force you away, almost as if he knew his fate before it began to unfold.

“The fuck you can’t.” He scoffed, nudging you in the opposite direction of the man approaching you. “Let’s go.” He said again, harsher than the last.

You should listen.

You should leave.

It was too late, anyway. Your choosing of Jake over anyone else was a disaster, but it was something no outward intervention could have possibly changed. It was your own personal law, and when it came to a competition between Jake and anyone else, the contender always lost.

He was in front of you again. Months of static silence and breaking hearts, months of longing and yearning for something you could not have, finally came to a bitter end. It had been so long since you were face to face with Jake that you almost managed to forget how intoxicating his aura was. Almost, being the key word, because deep down you knew you would never forget a thing about him.

“Long time no see, sweetheart.” His voice was like liquid gold, washing down over you and curing any ailment that plagued you. The pout of his lip had only become more irresistible, and his chocolate coloured irises locked you in for eternity. Even if you wanted to leave, you knew it to be impossible.

“Could have kept it that way.” You replied, your lips turning down into a slight frown. Your eyes, though, told a much different story that he was quite privy to. You were good at keeping the feelings between the two of you a secret to anyone looking in, but inside, you were dying for him to touch you. Just once, just for a second so you could ascend to heaven again. It was a feeling only he could give, and you had been deprived of it for a long time, constantly in search of the high since his absence began.

“Right,” he chuckled, remembering your snarky tone all too well. “That’s why you came to my house? To bitch at me for saying hi?” His words were evil, and so was his tone, but you nearly went weak in the knees hearing the domineering voice once again. His eyes held emotion different from the venom of his words, and you could feel how thrilled he was to see you again.

“It wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t bitching at you for something, Jacob.” You reminded, keeping your expression stony so he could not use anything to his advantage.

“Of course, angel. It’s what I love most about you.” He smirked, nodding in agreement. You noticed his eyes flicker to the man beside you, the one holding your arm so tightly in hopes he could pull you away. Jake bit back a bigger smile, knowing there was nothing strong enough in the world to pull you away from him.

His black dress shirt was held together by the bottom three buttons. A fitted suit jacket was settled neatly atop it, but it was not screaming anything overly fancy. The cheap necklaces around his neck dumbed down the expensive clothing, but you cursed how remarkably well it worked together. His dress pants hugged his hips, and the tanned skin of his chest held your attention. It was not the clothes that sent you mad, but the fact you had before studied the beautiful intricacies that lie beneath.

“Are you going to introduce me to your little friend?” He cocked his head to the side ever so slightly, raising his eyebrow in inquiry.

Little was a term he used only to assert his dominance. Cole stood heads taller, and his shoulders were much wider, but in the moment, Jake appeared much bigger than the man beside you. His ego was so large that it left no space in the room for anyone else, and his confidence made Cole pale in comparison to him.

“Boyfriend.” Cole corrected, his jaw clenched and his grip on you growing tighter by the minute. At that, Jake laughed out loud, unable to hold his feelings on the matter. Cole swallowed back the bitter taste it left in his mouth, but opted not to respond.

“Okay.” Jake nodded, looking back to you for clarification. “Your boyfriend.” He reworded his question, putting emphasis on the term and making it painfully apparent he had no interest in talking to Cole at all.

“This is Cole.” Was all you said, your nostrils flaring slightly at Jake’s egotistical expression. As much as you craved for him to touch you, you weren’t blind to his abhorrent tendency towards cockiness.

“You move on quick, sweetheart.” He noted, glancing back at the other man for a moment. You scowled at his willingness to shame you for dating another when he was the one who drove you to it in the first place. Before you could comment on his misplaced belief, a blonde haired woman appeared beside him, making the situation all the more tense. You forced a smile on your lips, watching closely as she clumsily grabbed his arm, claiming her territory without a trace of humility.

“Seems like you do, too.” You shot back, biting down on the tip of your tongue hard enough to draw blood. The metallic taste filled your senses, but the pain did nothing to deter the rise of anger in your chest.

She did not say a word, but she did not have to. She was the same to Jake as Cole was to you: a placeholder.

As much as you were a victim to Jake, he was just the same to you.

You moved on, found another to replace the hole he left in you when he walked away. He found her, hoping she would feel as good in his arms as you did, but she could never give him the same thing. She could try until the end of time, but both of you knew she could never come close.

“Was nice seeing you, Y/N. Don’t be a stranger.” His words were equal to a dismissal of the conversation, but his eyes spoke something completely different. He wasn’t done, and neither were you. He approached you with intent to start anew, and he would see through to it no matter who got caught in the crossfire.

He slung a lazy arm around her waist, giving you a subtle wink before pulling her off in the same direction they came.

You thought you were going to be sick, your entire body aching with the knowledge he was touching someone other than you. You wondered if you loving someone else plagued him with the same illness, or if he viewed it as a game. You constantly feared that he did not feel for you what you felt for him, but you’d always been too afraid to ask.

“What a fucking douchebag.” Cole muttered, only loosening his grip on you after Jake was out of sight. As he let go, you raised your opposite hand to the same spot, rubbing the sore skin where his fingers rested moments before.

“He’s not that bad, Cole.” The defense slipped out without a second thought, and his misplaced confidence was shattered entirely. You looked up at his face, wide eyed and regretful of your words, but the damage was done and a fight was unavoidable.

Confidence is broken

“Not that bad?” He echoed, practically scoffing the words out.

“Yeah, Cole. Not that bad.” You repeated, rolling your eyes. “He’s full of himself, yeah, but when you get to know him, he’s actually got a pretty good heart.”

“Good enough heart to fuck someone else in your bed?” He questioned, remembering the tearful stories you had told after too much wine. Your expression dropped, your heart plummeting to your stomach as you were forced into a memory you were committed to forgetting. “Did you actually come here to see him?”

“Yeah, he’s an alright person, but a shitty fucking boyfriend.” You nodded, swallowing back the lump forming in your throat. “Which is why I’m dating you, and not him.” You clarified, averting your gaze to the ground. “No, I didn’t come here to fucking see him, Cole.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” He whispered, realizing his harsh words were not needed.

At the same time, they were. You were playing the victim to avoid being the bad guy. You hated being the bad guy, and when it came to Jake, you couldn’t seem to escape the title.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom.” You forced the words through your teeth, feeling the whirlwind of memories wash over you like acid rain. Your skin burned as they continued to flow, and you knew that you would die before you could ever outrun them.

“Babe, come on.” He pleaded, reaching out for your shoulder to hold you in place. You shook him off as soon as his fingers connected with your body, stepping away without a second thought.

Without any regret, you left him amidst the swarm of people in the house of your ex whom you knew you’d end up in bed with by the end of the night.

Even though the thought normally settled your upset stomach, not even the promise of sex with Jake could cure the sickness that washed over you. Remembering was the biggest curse of your entire relationship, and unfortunately for you, most of your relationship was remembering. You went without him more often than you were with him, and even the sweetest of memories were tainted with sins and sourness.

You navigated your way to the bathroom blind, your sight ridden with pictures of Jake shirtless in your bed, and worst of all, shirtless in bed with someone else.

If not for you knowing the house so well, you would have gotten lost in the endless sea of flashbacks.

From the very beginning, yours and Jake’s relationship was bound to fail. It began from lies and deceit, and it would carry on the same way until the next bitter end.

“And this is my twin brother, Jake, and his girlfriend, Suzanne.”

“You can call me Suz,” she flashed you a breathtaking smile, extending her arm towards you.

You barely registered her hand in your face, nor her friendly introduction, because you were too busy gawking at the blinding beauty of the long haired man beside her. You cleared your throat, swallowing hard and blinking twice to bring yourself back to reality. Even as you reached to shake her hand, you were unable to focus on her. As disrespectful as it was, even if it was her boyfriend, he was someone who was meant to be admired.

Plus, his wandering eyes and lustful gaze made it all the more easy to completely discredit the woman offering you her kindness.

Of course, it started that night. It started the minute his eyes locked with your own, like an unavoidable omen of the horror you would soon endure. The connection was instantaneous, and the desire followed not far behind. Although you didn’t sleep with Jake the first night you met him, you were no better than a mistress without ever taking your clothes off.

It started with lustful glances, then came the flirting in secrecy. Within days, he was going out of his way to catch you in the hallway or alone in a room to profess his affection for you. Weeks after that, the touching began, slowly but surely. It started with a lingering hand on your back, or hugs that never should have been initiated at all. Then, his hands drifted closer to your hips, and even worse, your ass. The hugs lasted far too long, and his lips treaded dangerously close to your skin.

You hated thinking about what you did to that poor woman, the tearful eyes as she berated the two of you as one. She was kind, she was beautiful, and she deserved better, but Jake Kiszka had always been too much to resist. Now, he was a habit you could not kick.

Over the years, the women became countless, and then men from your relationships, too. Everyone else saw that you could never keep a relationship, but it ran far deeper than that. You did exceptionally well at hiding your affections, and even better at hiding your betrayals. Jake and you never felt the desire to commit to one another, so instead you ruined other people while you committed to your relationship in every way other than officially. You did not intend to hurt so many people, and you never planned to betray others on behalf of each other, but it always seemed to happen no matter how hard you tried to stay away.

And then one day, the two of you had enough. You had lost too much humanity on your endless quest to be with each other, sacrificing too many people in the process. You decided to try, to be with each other in an honest and sincere way, just to make the world a little bit better for each other. You wanted to love each other openly, without anything or anyone standing in the way.

But, you didn’t want to be in a relationship.

Exclusivity was agreed upon, but labels were tossed in the garbage. The two of you convinced yourselves you were happy with the arrangement, and for a while, you truly were. At first, you kept it very quiet. You went on dates and stayed the night at each others houses, but only rarely. Most of the time, it was quick hookups whenever you had the opportunity to do so.

Then, things changed, and in his opinion, for the worst.

Both of you fell in love, completely and utterly, without question or care. Your apartment was forgotten after weeks of you staying in his bed. You shared meals together, sat outside on the porch and watched sunsets and sunrises, and said I love you in every action, but never aloud. Jake was indefinitely intertwined in your life in every way possible, and you were happy with it, until he said the dreaded ‘L’ word aloud.

It slipped out, carefully and quietly while you laid in his lap on the couch, watching reruns of your favourite shows. At first, you thought you misheard him, but the silence that hung in the air told you the truth about his words.

You loved him too, and you cursed yourself for not being able to say it back. You thought that it was too much too soon, despite living with love surrounding you constantly. It scared you, and you reacted with fear, even with your heart screaming at you to stop.

You didn’t say it back, because you neglected labels and thought it was not possible to be in love because of that. And, true, genuine love scared the absolute shit out of you.

It scared him too, but he seemed to harness more courage in that moment than you had in your entire life. Instead of applauding him for it, you effectively slapped him in the face.

For a few days, things carried on like normal, but you could notice the tension in the air. Every day, you could tell he waited to hear it, that he needed you to say it back, but it never came. After a while, he began to pull away, showing the old Jake that made you fall in lust with him in the first place. There were no more shared meals, and definitely no more sunset gazing. The television was off more often than it was on, and the blankets on the couch remained neatly folded on the back. The bed felt empty, even when both of you lied in it, because the distance between you two grew larger by the day.

But the sex?

It was better than it had ever been.

You wanted to tell him that you loved him too, but you were so paralyzed with fear that the word got stuck in your throat every time you tried to speak. Instead, you let him distance himself, knowing you’d already pushed him too far away. You continued to fall more in love with him, and he forced himself to fall out of love.

Then, you came home to him in bed, but he was not waiting for you. Instead of anticipating your arrival, so you could live as roommates rather than lovers, you found him wrapped up in another woman who gave him more than you could in the moment.

It was tearful, angry, and loud. Things were thrown, shattered on the floor, and your throat was raw from belittling the man you had only ever wanted to love.

You had finally gotten the karma you had rightfully deserved, and you finally understood the horrible pain you had inflicted on so many others.

The story finally ended the same way it started, but the two of you never recovered.

You moved out, but you were never able to rid yourself of Jake Kiszka. Intermittently, drunken and sad, you’d show up at each others doorstep and give in to your needs once more. He hated himself for hurting you, and you hated yourself for letting it get to that point. Blame was abundant, and regret plentiful, but one thing never changed; the fact that you two never fully fell out of love.

Too fearful of hurting each other the same way again, you fell back into old habits. You and Jake could never commit to each other, but could never stop loving one another enough to put an end to your toxic ways and commit to someone else. The second time around, it was much more difficult, and a lot messier. Your secret-keeping abilities had greatly decreased, and worst of all, everybody knew how you felt about each other.

When he left for his last tour, ready to release a new album and move forward in his career, you took it upon yourself to try and end the curse indefinitely. You blocked his number, removed him from your life in the most brutal ways possible, and you never spoke to him again. You vowed to start over, to be better, to love someone properly without the memory of Jake Kiszka tainting it before it could begin, and you did well.

For a while, at least. Until Josh sent you the damned message that landed you at his house that night.

With a boyfriend who you’d been with for long enough to take a bigger step, you crawled back to Jake like a dog who’d been lost without him. All it took was a single glance, and you knew Cole would meet the same fate of so many others, and you would meet the same fate that would inevitably ruin your life.

Your hands gripped the countertop of the bathroom tightly, holding yourself upright as the grief did all it could to break your bones. Your chest was heavy, your heart aching and your mind overrun with thoughts of a man you could never fully comprehend. He hurt you, and you hurt him, but never enough to put a stop to it for good. There was something deeper, something so incomprehensibly strong tying your souls together, even if you wanted to sever the bond. You could run to the ends of the earth, away from him and all of the mistrust and deceit the two of you had created, but you knew you would run so far that you would end up behind him, whispering in his ear as you pleaded to start anew.

You looked up at the mirror, trying to understand the woman staring back at you. She was a stranger, a shell of the woman who existed before meeting Jake. She was barren, cold, and tired. She wanted to love, but could not love anyone other than him, no matter how hard she tried. The bathroom door was cracked open ever so slightly, the glow of the hallway light illuminating your tired features, only worsening the sorrow you had for your former self.

As if on cue, the door creaked open by the push of a hand. The yellow glow of the lightbulbs were blocked by a body, casting a shadow over the already dim room. You did not need to look to know who it was; you could feel his presence without ever seeing his face, and it was just as beautiful as you remembered.

No matter how much you hated yourself for the relentless cruelty you inflicted and endured, it could never amount to the love you held for him in your heart.

“What are you doing up here, all by yourself?” The words were sickly sweet, settling in your spine and relieving you of all the tension that gathered over the course of the night. Without even looking at his face, you felt yourself stepping towards him, gravitating to the one thing that continually held you to the earth.

Jake closed the bathroom door behind him, locking the two of you inside together, looking at your sad expression with the utmost regret in his heart.

If only he could do it right, to take back all of the wrongs that got you to where you were, he would do it in a heartbeat, for you.

But you had always been better off as a dirty little secret, and he made a much better whore than he did a lover.

“Waiting for you to come and find me.” You quipped back, covering the sadness in your eyes with a soft smile. He stepped towards you, meeting you in the middle. He reached forward, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as he gazed down over your face.

“You look like a fucking whore.” He rasped, his voice quiet but not hateful. His eyes raked over your body, taking in your low cut dress revealing more of you than he’d seen in a long time. His hand dropped from your face entirely, instead reaching forward and anchoring itself on your hip.

You leaned closer, your painted lips barely hovering over his own. The warmth of his breath on your skin was enough to make you forget about your sadness, and any remorse for your actions fled the minute he touched you.

“You don’t like it?” You asked, pushing your bottom lip into a pout. It grazed his own, sending a rush of emotion straight through the both of you. In an instant, you were one again, two bodies combined into a single entity after being forced apart.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head ever so slightly at your dramatics. “You know better than that.” His other hand rose, settling on the back of your neck. The pressure of his hand on the base of your skull caused your head to tilt upwards towards his just a little more, just enough for him to see your eyes. “I love it.”

“Did you miss me, baby?” You asked, your mouth watering at the thought of tasting him alone. His cologne was suffocating, but it was so delicious that it helped you forget about the dying itself.

“Do I have to answer that?” He smirked, his body nearly completely pressed into your own. The space between you was non-existent, blatantly showcasing your lack of growth during your time apart.

Sustenance is stolen

“No, because I know you did.” Before the words even left your tongue, his lips were on yours in a heated reunion.

The sensation was euphoric, something you’d been searching for without ever realizing it. The whine that rattled your chest sent a shiver down his spine, only encouraging his bad behavior further. He drank in the sound like a man dying of thirst, desperate for a drop of anything you could give him. You were the only woman in the world who could do such things to him, and despite pledging to stay away, the two of you would always end up in each other's arms. Whether it be morally right, or morally wrong, his arms were where you were always meant to be.

In an instant, you were no longer the woman who came to the party with a boyfriend who treated her well. That title was ripped from you, stolen from his grasp in exchange for a single moment alone with the man who forever plagued your mind. Just like every man before, he stole you from him like a thief in the night, never satisfied unless he could make you his own again. He knew the love you gave was addicting, and anyone who received it was dependent upon it. He did not commit such thievery for any reason unjust, but because he remembered the effect of your affections so well. Without you, he thought he would die, and because of that, he was willing to sacrifice any other man’s life so he could survive off your love alone.

The taste of alcohol lingered on his tongue, making the moment all the more enticing. His touch was burning, but only ever pleasantly. Right and wrong did not exist; only he did, and you submitted to the knowledge that you lived solely to be his. You were not cut out to be a wife for a man who had his life together, and you were not meant to mother a child or start a family with a man who earned his keep honestly and loved sincerely. You were a mortal being who’s soul had been blackened with lust for an entity with more power than you could comprehend. You were born to play Jake’s twisted game, and over time, you had grown happy to be a part of it.

You were a whore, but only he knew how to pry that out of you. His words were laced with poison, his tongue made of opiate, his touch of ecstasy, and every action completed with intention to kill. You would not commit the crimes for another, because there was nobody else worth the effort.

“Taste just as sweet as I remember, Angel.” He withdrew a long breath, parting from you for just long enough to utter the praise.

“So good you couldn’t stay away.” You whispered, wishing he would kiss you again. It had been so long since you experienced such pleasure that you thought you might die without it.

“I can never stay away from you, sweetness.” He said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and in his defense, it was.

He backed you up against the countertop, locking you in place with his hips. As he leaned his top half towards you, you leaned backwards to allow him easier access. His lips landed on the side of your neck, his kiss gentle and nowhere near what you remembered of him.

For a second, you let yourself believe there was some kind of sentiment behind his action, like he still cared and wanted to appreciate having you again.

Then, you pushed the thought from your head. The worst thing you could do to yourself was imagine that Jake cared about you, even if it was true.

His mouth traveled downward, drifting over the column of your neck and brushing over your collarbone. His tongue trailed over the soft skin, reminding himself of all he missed out on while he was gone. He was a man gone mad, driven to insanity just from the taste of you on his tongue. As tempted as he was to leave a mark behind, to claim territory that had always rightfully been his, he knew he couldn’t. He did not want to make the fallout any worse than it needed to be.

Instead of showing his true feelings, he spoke it into existence as an insult, inadvertently begging for you to validate his feelings on the matter.

“What would your little boyfriend think of you now?” He muttered, his face buried in your chest as his mouth ghosted over every available inch of skin. The hum of his voice against your body made you weak in the knees, but his words plagued you with guilt. You were not the person to get off on infidelity; in fact, before you met Jake, you despised it. You were not sleeping with him for any twisted desires or hidden kinks, but because you loved him too desperately to walk away. You would take him any way you could have him, even if it was despicable.

“The same as your girlfriend would think about you.” You reminded him, assuring he knew you were not the only one at fault. Your tone was breathy, your heart thudding against your ribs as his hands scoured your thighs. His fingertips settling just below the hem of the skirt, begging to go further but waiting for your permission.

“As if I’d ask her to be my girlfriend.” He scoffed, revolted just at the thought of it. His hands trailed higher, in search of the seam of your underwear. He seemed to freeze in place, his fingers inspecting your hips underneath the cool fabric of your dress. Slowly, his head raised from your chest, looking up at your face with a wondrous twinkle in his eye. He could not find what he was looking for, because they did not exist. His hands felt only the softness of your skin, without barrier as he smirked up at your rosy cheeks. “For me, sweetheart?”

“It’s always for you, Jake.” You averted your eyes, an unfamiliar feeling burning in the pit of your stomach. You weren’t sure why you were so sheepish of the fact; both of you knew it all too well.

“You’re too good to me, angel.” He commended your efforts to please him only because they worked so well. He bunched the skirt of your dress in his hands, pushing it up past your hips to reveal your lack of underwear. The sight of you exposed in front of him was nearly too much for him to bear, but he persevered through the abundance of lust he felt for you in hopes of drawing the reunion out a little longer.

His fingers slipped between your legs, pushing them apart so he could continue his tyranny without interruption. You watched him closely, inspecting every move as if you needed it to survive. In some sick way, you did. You felt as though if you were deprived of his touch for too long, you would succumb to death and waste away to nothingness. His touch hovered above your heat, but he was unwilling to give you what you wanted so easily.

How foolish of you to believe that Jake would be kind, even after such a long absence.

“Please touch me, Jake. Waited so fucking long.” You whined, looking down at his hand between your thighs, taunting you with the power you knew he possessed.

“Oh no, sweetheart.” He shook his head, chucking at your neediness. “You don’t get to call the shots.” He said, his eyes flickering up to meet your own. “You left, remember? You blocked my number and went off and found someone else to take my place. You don’t get to complain about it after you finally decided to come back.”

Arrogance is potent

Oh, so he was mad. Good thing for him, you could play that game, too.

“Quit it with the fucking pity party, Jacob. We both know you’re not innocent, either.” From sweet to sour in a second, your entire demeanor changed in response to his ridiculous claims.

“You should see yourself.” He smirked, moving his hand a little closer to your aching cunt, but not close enough to touch you, yet. “Just as desperate as you were the last time I saw you, still so eager to be fucked while your boyfriend waits for you downstairs.” He spit the word as if it were a bitter taste on his tongue, easily telling you that the old game of cat and mouse had changed. He was going to fuck you, but he was angry that you had tried to move on despite him doing the exact same thing.

“Oh, you poor thing.” You seethed, feeling the rise of anger begin to take over your body, too.

Clearly, leaving silently had deprived you of the release you so desperately needed. There were too many loose ends, too much emotion hanging heavy on the both of you. You had waited nearly a year to get it all out, a year of suffering before you could even begin to release some of the pain you locked up so securely in your heart.

“Don’t tell me your feelings are hurt, Jacob.” You raised an eyebrow, condemning him for feeling any kind of sorrow over your new relationship.

“Over you? As if.” He sneered, the momentary sweetness from earlier fleeing him completely. Touching you again was euphoric, telling of all he still felt of you, and he didn’t mind letting you know he missed you. Unfortunately, it brought up a whole other whirlwind of emotions that were far less appealing.

“Still doing whatever you can to convince yourself you don’t care about me, hmm?” You snipped, taking the opportunity to slide your dress over your head, leaving you completely exposed before him. “We both know why you’re upset, Jake, and it’s not because you don’t care.”

His hands shot to your hips, lifting you on the counter and setting you down on the cool surface. Now that you were locked in, his own body ensuring you could not run, his hand was between your legs again and finally connected with your cunt.

“What is it then, if you think you fucking know everything?” His fingers sliding through your folds, gathering the wetness on his fingertips and circling around your clit made it hard to respond. The feeling was so grand, even if the action was small. It was something you’d been waiting for since he got on the plane that flew him away from you, severing the twisted ties that held you two together.

The most harrowing revelation came when you understood that it was even better than you remembered it to be.

“You’re j-jealous, Jacob. Just fucking say it.” You spat between waves of pleasure, looking down at his face with a distasteful look in your eye. He was silent for a moment, opting to watch his hand working at your cunt instead of responding to your accusations. Eventually, after an unusually long bout of silence from him, his eyes flickered back to your face.

Without him saying a word, you knew you hit the nail straight on the head.

“You think it was nice to see that you found someone to take my place after I was gone?” He whispered, his tone dangerously low. “That he’s been taking up space in your bed where I used to sleep?” He growled, the curl of his lip resembling him as more of a wild animal than a man who had been hurting on your behalf. He raised his other hand to your neck, the back of his fingers gently caressing the side of it as he let his words sink in. “Do you think I liked the way he was touching you, like he was protecting his territory? Like you haven’t always been mine?” The possessive claim caused you to clench around nothing, desperate for anything more than he was giving you.

His fingers closed around your neck, the grip loose but foreshadowing of all that was to come. His face was close to yours, so close that the tip of his nose brushed against your burning cheeks and his lips were ghosting over your own.

“Answer me.” He whispered, letting his middle finger slide down to your entrance, feeling his way through the arousal he was responsible for.

“No, sir.” You shook your head, almost finding yourself sympathetic for the pain he was masking with his cruel words.

“So why did you bring him here, sweetheart? To rub it in my face? To piss me off?” He asked, slipping his finger inside you and letting his thumb drift over your clit. He began a steady pace, clearly getting himself worked up as he made a point to berate you for your decisions. “Did you want me to get jealous so I would start a fight with him and show everyone how much I fucking care about you?”

“N-no, sir.” You whimpered, feeling the flutter of an orgasm begin to blossom in the pit of your stomach. The curl of his fingers was addicting, and with every pump of his hand he was hitting the sweet spot inside you only he knew how to find.

“Don’t lie to me, baby.” He said, his fingers tightening around your neck a little further. He wasn’t ready to take it all the way, because he wanted to hear the truth before anything else. “You’re a little attention whore, and you wanted me to tell everyone out there that you’re mine. That’s all you ever fucking wanted, right? To be mine, and for everyone to know it?” The conversation was taking a dark turn, but you were too needy to complain about it. You thought if you kept talking, telling him what he wanted to hear, he would give you what you needed.

You were too stupid to realize you were only digging yourself a deeper hole, and the one you were already in was much too steep to climb out of.

“Yes, Jake. I did. That’s all I wanted.” You nodded, hoping he could feel your sincerity. You were not lying, because it was all you ever wanted. To be his and his alone was what you craved, with no one standing between you and no more secrets.

“So instead of telling me that, what did you do?” He snarled, moving his fingers a little faster. The change in pace caused your whole body to quiver. Your skin felt like it was on fire, and your mind was consumed with him entirely. He wanted you to confess, to tell him you understood the mistakes you made and atone for your sins. He needed it more than he ever needed anything else in his entire life.

“I-I left,” you choked out, feeling his fingers tighten on your pulse-point. Your heartbeat was pounding in your ears, so powerful it was pulsing behind your eyes. “I was scared. I was too scared to say it, Jake.” You wheezed out, feeling your head begin to swirl from the pleasure and the lack of blood flow.

“Yeah, you fucking left. You were too scared to say it, so you left me to feel like an idiot for saying it first.” You were no longer speaking of the significant others you had left downstairs, nor your absence in the months prior. He was talking about that same dreaded instance that replayed in your mind every single day.

He was talking about it.

Aloud, he spoke the words, for the first time since the war began.

“M’so sorry, Jake.” You pleaded, feeling so strung out that the apology seemed misplaced. Recounting your mistakes did not seem fitting with his fingers inside of you and an orgasm threatening you. “I felt it too. I should have said it.”

“But you didn’t. You never fucking did, because you only ever cared about yourself.” Your eyes shot open, suddenly being pulled from the euphoria taking over your entire body. Your nostrils flared, your pupils blazing with a fire that only he knew how to ignite. He knew he struck a nerve, but it was exactly what he was intending to do.

“You fucked someone else in our bed.” You seethed, your words weak from his palm pressing against your trachea. Even in your rage, your hips moved down on his hand in search for more.

Just like always, sex was the most important thing to both of you.

“Instead of talking to me, you fucked someone else and tried to play the victim!” Your words were stronger now, fighting against his power with ease.

You were the only person in the world who ever had enough courage to challenge him.

“I guess we finally got what was coming to us, then.” He muttered, scowling at the thought of the pain you two caused each other, scowling at pain you’d caused so many others. “You still haven’t learned your lesson, because you’re back here begging for more, doing the same thing to him.”

“You don’t get to chastise me when you’re doing the same thing.” You spat, enraged at his self-righteous response.

“I never said I was any fucking better, sweetheart.” He reminded you, a small, sick smile toying at the corners of his lips. As angry as you were, and as much as your chest ached, you still knew you couldn’t walk away from him. You were destined to want Jake in the most despicable and destructive ways until the very end. The only comfort was that you knew he was destined for the same fate.

Without removing his hand from your throat, he moved forward and captured you in a kiss, sealing the evil you spewed within you forever. You pulled his bottom lip between your teeth, your need for him animalistic and unnatural even after his cruel treatment. The only reason it did not bother you was because you knew you deserved it.

As he kissed you, his hand continued working at your cunt, pushing you to the brink of an orgasm with great ease. You let out a moan into his mouth, giving him a taste of the pleasure he was granting you. He drew in a sharp breath, the sound settling deep somewhere in his soul and making home there for eternity.

He parted from you, but not because he wanted to. He would kiss you until his lips turned blue and his lungs collapsed, happy to die at your hands. He broke away because of need, and one that much much stronger than his urge to kiss you. His grip loosened around your neck and his hand dropped to your hip. He withdrew his fingers from you, causing you to let out a hiss of displeasure at the sudden loss of the orgasm he was so close to giving you.

Before you could get a complaint out, he dropped to his knees before you, gripping your hips and pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. He guided one leg over his shoulder, pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh as an apology for his sudden change in pace. At the knowledge of his next move, you were all but upset with his decision.

“Oh, fuck.” You groaned, your head falling backwards as his tongue connected with your clit. Your hand reached for his head, your fingers tangling in his hair as his tongue ran through your folds.

The sweetness of your arousal was something he’d missed so dearly, something he could never find from another. It was more addicting than any substance and it was the very reason he could get himself out of bed in the morning. Being with you in such an intimate manner was the only reason his heart continued to beat, and the only thing he continued living for. His tongue circled your clit, continuing his torment in a whole new way.

With just a single swirl of his tongue, you felt like screaming his name, just to tell the whole world how good he could make you feel. It was almost comical, how you searched far and wide for someone who could make you feel a shred of what he could, and nobody could even come close to him. Your whole body had been begging for him since you stepped foot into the familiar home, and now that you had him, it still wasn’t enough. You needed everything all at once, things he could not give to you and things you could never ask for. You needed Jake far beyond any other person, and far beyond what was possible from him.

You needed him to be more than a dirty secret, a betrayal of trust in a bathroom at a house party. You needed him to be yours, but you knew he would never be.

Your desperation was immeasurable, and your entire body was aching for the orgasm he previously denied you of. It was a terrible feeling to have, knowing that your life was completely in his hands. Whatever he decided to do with it, you would go along happily so long as it pleased him. It was a terrible thing to know you would never truly belong to yourself, even if Jake was long gone from the world.

He was living for your shallow breathing, surviving off of your choked moans. Pleasing you was his favorite thing to do, even if he hated you in the moment. There was something so gratifying about his name on your tongue, and something so beautiful about how easy it was to make you feel good. He tried his best to ignore the incessant thoughts in his head about another man touching you the same way, about someone else believing that you were theirs.

Both of you knew you were Jake’s, and he was undeniably yours. The facade you put on and the games you played with others were just that; the only thing either one of you knew to be real was the way you felt for each other. It was painful, harmful and frustrating for the two of you to constantly avoid the way your hearts felt for each other, but it was all you knew. It made more sense for the two of you to deny and lie about your feelings than it ever did to fess up.

He pulled away from you, catching his breath as he looked up at your face from between your legs. “Come on, angel. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.” He hummed, moving his thumb over your clit so he did not lose the momentum.

“You want to hear it, baby?” You breathed, looking down at him through your lashes. “Did you miss it?”

“Dreamt of it every goddamn night.” He said as a matter of fact. You let out a whine at the sound of his words, pushed even closer to the edge at the knowledge he thought of you just as much as you thought of him.

You were in no position to deny him anything, because he was giving you the entire world. As he leaned forward, his mouth connecting with your core once again, you let a long slur of curses fall from your lips. The moan that followed could only be classified as pornographic, carrying through the door and echoing into the hallway for everyone to hear.

He was doing exactly as you wanted; he was making it so the entire house could hear how much you meant to him, even if it was not in the way you so badly wanted from him. Still, it was enough to keep you on his hook, and that was the very thing he wanted to ensure.

“God, feels so fucking good, Jake.” You gasped, feeling your abdomen tense with a particularly strong wave of pleasure. He hummed against you, speaking encouragement for the show you were putting on for him.

You knew if he continued on like such, it would not be long until you descended into an orgasm. He was waiting, just as desperate as you were to feel you let the pleasure take hold. He brought his fingers to your entrance, slipping his middle and index finger inside of you to add to the sensation. You inhaled a sharp breath, feeling the curl of his fingers hit the same spot he found so easily just moments before.

“Fuck,” you hissed, feeling yourself clench around his fingers as the knot in your belly threatened to snap. At the familiar sound, he took it upon himself to suction his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves, adding more pressure to the already otherworldly feeling. Your grip tightened in his hair and your entire body was rigid as it prepared to be pushed over the edge. “Oh god,” you cried, your throat raw from the primal sound that tore through you.

Had his mouth not been so intently focused on you, you knew how sweetly he would have talked you through it. No matter how vicious or volatile he spoke to you, he never missed out on the opportunity to coddle you as you came. It was his favorite thing in the entire world, an excuse to show you the softness his heart had for you when he usually felt like he needed to keep it hidden. He continued pumping his fingers and moving his tongue, guiding you through the high with expert precision. As he noticed you relax against him, he tapered off his movements before pulling away completely.

He rose to his feet, already tossing his belt on the floor before he was even upright. Your mind was still swirling with the lingering euphoria, your skin electrified and your heart pounding in your chest. You watched him, wordless as he unbuttoned his pants after he threw his shirt to the ground alongside his belt. He freed himself from his boxers, the sight of him nearly too much for you to handle. You missed him so dearly and needed him so badly.

He stepped forward, landing between your legs as he gazed down at you. His lust-blown pupils turned his eyes near black, and he was aching for relief just like you had been minutes before. “I want to hear you say it, sweetheart.”

“Say what?” You asked, your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He gave you a soft smile, void of any malice for a moment. He wanted to admire you beneath him, so desperate to have him. He wanted to enjoy the beauty of your heart being his despite being promised to someone else.

“You were just as jealous as I was, angel.” He said, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer to the edge of the counter. You put all your trust in him, knowing that if he faltered, you might fall to the floor.

“So what?” You huffed, your cheeks turning red at his accusations. He smiled down at you, moving his hips forward ever so slightly. The tip of his cock rested against your entrance, already wet with your arousal.

“Do you really think I’d give her half of what I give you? That she means nearly as much to me as you do?” He questioned, his grip loosening slightly now that he had you in the position he wanted.

“No, baby.” You shook your head, wondering if tonight would be the night that things would change. “I know that.”

“You know she has nothing on you, beautiful.” His hand trailed up your side, the light touch tickling your skin as his fingers drifted over your stomach. “Nobody does.”

With that, his sweet sentiments had come to an end. He slammed his hips forward, the size of him coming as a surprise and filling you completely. A gasp left your lips as your tried to recover from the shock and adjust to him again, realizing that in the time spent away from him, nobody felt as fulfilling as he did.

To him, no one could compare, either.

“That’s it, gorgeous.” He muttered, clearly strung out from the pleasure too. In just a moment, he was back where he was all of those months ago, in love with you and desperate to hear you say it back. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

His praise was exhilarating, and his love was blissful. As he began a slow pace with his hips, the grief was almost overwhelming the pleasure. You wondered why it couldn’t feel this good with him all of the time, and you dreaded him walking away after the night came to an end.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours for a moment, likely mourning the same fate that the two of you so often fell into. Loving you was all he wanted to do, but he was so afraid of falling again that he convinced himself he wasn’t already long past in love.

His tongue danced over yours, the taste of his sin too much to bear as your chest began to ache. You wanted to remain strong, to carry on with the one thing that the two of you were good at, but it felt so different than it did all the times that came before. The emotion you had neglected to acknowledge was finally pushing to the surface, angry about being ignored.

It wasn’t the right time, but you feared the right time may never come. You had to stop being afraid, to find the courage he once had and utilize it.

You could feel it too, even in his cruel words and his harsh insults. The love was there, lingering in every touch and screamed in every kiss. You could not allow yourself to remain in the same incessant cycle of pain, but you could not will yourself away from him. There was only one way to change your ways, but it was the hardest thing you had ever done. Loving someone so completely, no matter the circumstance, was terrifying. Saying it aloud only made it all the more real.

He pulled away, breaking the kiss and in turn, breaking you from your internal brooding. He looked down over your face, his hips still rocking against yours. The pleasure in the pit of your stomach had nothing on the yearning of your heart, and he could see it in your eyes. He had to look away, to hide his heart from you so you could not break it again. He feared the longer he stared, the closer he was to confessing the same thing all over again.

In a moment of desperation, he withdrew from you entirely, letting his hands settle back on your hips. Before you could complain, he pulled you from the countertop entirely, landing you on your feet in front of him. He had to change the pace, to harness that same carnal desire and rank it more important than how he felt for you emotionally.

Without a word, he spun you around, forcing your top half down towards the counter. The cold surface was a shock to your system, especially after growing comfortable with the warmth of his body against you. He pulled your hips back towards him, positioning himself at your entrance again.

“I think I’m being far too nice to you, sweetheart.” He muttered, reaching up and grabbing a fistful of his hair. “If I remember correctly, you only like to be fucked like a whore.”

This time, when the insult slipped past his lips, it did not feel good nor did it prompt any wave of arousal. It hurt, and it hurt achingly bad.

Still, knowing you were not strong enough to utter the proclamation of love, you went along with it despite the ache in your chest.

“Yes, sir.” You hummed. Despite the sadness of the change of position, you were still excited at the idea of fucking him. If you could not love him, you knew it was the next best thing.

Slowly, he pushed inside of you, knotting your hair around his fist as he pulled your head off the counter. He leaned down, his lips hovering just over your ear as he continued at the agonizingly slow pace.

“Just like this, sweetheart?” He asked, making sure that when his hips connected with yours he added a little extra force. “Does that feel good?”

“Feels so good, baby.” You whined, the intimacy of the moment sending a shiver down your spine. His breath was hot on your neck, his voice barely above a whisper but loud and clear to you. As you answered, he let his teeth sink into your earlobe, the light pressure prompting a flutter in your stomach. Your walls clenched around him, pulling him in further and locking him there indefinitely.

Despite the pace being slow, the power behind his hips was what mattered, and with every re-entry, he added just a little more force than the last. As his cock brushed against cervix, your knees went weak and your stomach twisted into a knot. You had no idea how he could make you feel so good, but you knew you never wanted him to stop.

“He can’t fuck you like this, sweetheart.” He whispered, his lips still hovering above your ear. “He can’t make you feel this good.” He continued, his hand on your hip tightening with every word. He was mindful, careful not to leave any bruises despite his desire to. “Can he, angel?”

“F-fuck no, Jake.” You shook your head, feeling him press a kiss to the sweet spot just below your ear.

“Right, baby.” He hummed his approval, his words muffled due to his lips on your skin. “Nobody can make you feel as good as I do because you’re mine. Do you fucking understand me?”

“God, yes.” You nodded against his hold, desperate to agree with him on that fact. No matter what, you were undeniably his.

“Did you think of me when he was fucking you, angel?” He asked, his tone growing stronger by the second. He was pissing himself off the longer he thought about it, but he was willing to make that sacrifice in order to chastise you for your decisions. “Did you wonder when I would come home, when I’d come back to take care of you?

“I did, baby.” You whimpered, feeling the effects of his presence finally begin to take hold. You were strung out on pleasure, at your end already despite him being far from done with you. You were tired, but your body would not accept the fact. You thought if he stopped, you might die from the withdrawal from him. “I thought about it every fucking day.” You confessed. “I needed you, because nobody else knows how to do it right.”

“Exactly, sweetheart.” He hummed an agreement, happy to hear it from you. “You knew I’d never leave you behind. You knew I couldn’t fucking stay away.” Even if he wanted to, he never could. The confession was heavy, despite the fact already being known to you both. “God, what do you do to me?” He growled, the slam of his hips rocking your thighs forward into the countertop. Another groan tore through your chest, vibrating your entire body as he continued to fuck into you.

“Jake,” you warned, feeling your legs begin to wobble and your mind start to haze.

“I know, baby.” He crooned, placing another sloppy kiss to the exposed portion of your neck. “Being such a good girl for me. Just hold on a little longer.” At that, you let out another whine, loud and impatient, clearly unhappy about his plea to wait. In response, he roughly pulled your head to the side by your hair, craning it upwards a little further so he could press his lips to yours.

The kiss was enough to satiate your undying need for him, but the taste of his lips made the sensation in your stomach grow tenfold. The only difference was, now you could not warn him about the climax creeping up on you.

Luckily for you, he did not need to be warned about anything. He knew you better than anyone or anything, and he could feel how close you were just from your body alone.

“Oh, angel, you make it so fucking hard to say no to you.” He let out a long sigh, breaking the kiss as he let his hips rest against the curve of your ass. He had to slow down or he feared he might let go, too.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” You gave him a weak smile, your eyes heavy as you looked back over your shoulder at him.

“With you? Always good, even if it should be bad.” He chuckled, placing a kiss to your shoulder blade before he straightened up again.

His hand remained in your hair as he took a deep breath, calming himself down before beginning again. The feeling of him moving inside you again after the short break was intense, amplified by a million. Although he believed stopping might allow the two of you more time, as soon as his hips reached the same speed as before, you were both just as close to the end. He couldn’t deny you the orgasm again, and he could not hold himself back. After so long without you, he needed it more than he needed food to survive.

“Can you cum for me, baby?” He asked, pushing your head down into the counter. Your cheek was squished against the surface, and his hips were moving with such strength that it made your head spin. There was no question that you could reach the climax, because you had been doing nothing but trying to hold back.

Instead of responding, your eyes closed and the burning in your stomach reached a whole new level. You had never gone so long without him, and now you had no tolerance for the pleasure that came with his company. A choked moan filled the air, letting him know that you were doing exactly what he asked of you.

His hand on your hip tightened as he pushed you further down on the counter. “That’s my girl.” He muttered, looking down at your face as you descended into pleasure. Your legs trembled and your lungs burned, but you were on top of the world. You felt better than you ever had, and likely better than you ever would. It had nothing to do with the sex, nor the stimulation of him inside you, but rather just the thought of being his.

You managed to sing his name through the mess of moans and curses, the sound heavenly to his ears. He waited so long to hear you say it like that again, and it sent him over the edge just the same as you. As you reached the high together, the world felt right again, like coming home after an inexplicably long and tiresome day. He spilled his release inside of you, feeling you relax against him as he slowed his thrusts. He leaned down, pulling your head to the side with much more caution than last time, and kissed you with all the love he could muster in his whole body.

You stayed like that for an abnormal amount of time, neither of you keen on the idea of parting from one another. Eventually, he broke the kiss, looking down over your face with adoration in his eyes. He did his best to snap himself out of it, knowing he shouldn’t be feeling such things about you, but unable to stop. He straightened up again, making sure to admire the entire scene of you below him, too fucked out to form a single thought. Then, his eyes traveled to the mirror, catching a glimpse of your position from a whole new perspective. He swallowed hard, his jaw tensed as he let out a shaky breath.

“How am I supposed to let him take you home tonight after seeing you like this, sweetness?” He asked, looking at your reflection in the mirror. When he realized your head was pushed too close to the countertop for you to see too, he used his grip on your hair to pull you upwards.

Staring back at you was a mess of the woman you walked into the bathroom as. Your cheeks were streaked with mascara, your skin red and blotchy and your hair a mess. Beside your reflection, you could see him watching you, studying you. His eyes were fixated on your face, taking in every detail you were noticing. To him, you were not a mess; you were the most beautiful thing to ever grace the earth. The mess just made it all the better, especially knowing he was the one who caused it.

‘I don’t want to go home with him, Jake. I want to stay here with you.’ You thought it, but did not dare say it aloud. The flash of sadness in your eye was apparent to him, for he had the same one in his.

What I see is unreal

I've written my own part

Eat of the apple, so young

I'm crawling back to start

If you did not speak now, you never would. Could you remain the same forever, or did you need to change to survive? You did not know what to do, or how to feel. If you said it, would it even mean anything, or would it be a waste of breath? He did not want to hear the words a year later; he needed it way back when the two of you were curled up together on the couch, when he used every last ounce of courage to say it first. He didn’t need to hear it now. He didn’t need you fucking up his life again. He didn’t need you.

But if he did not need you, why did he abandon his date in search of you, in search of what you used to be?

There was no more anger between you. Your eyes locked together in the mirror, housing a silent battle of uncertainty as you watched each other's every move. If you spoke the truth, the world would change indefinitely, but you did not know if it would be for better or for worse.

Oh, what did it fucking matter anymore?

You had to say it, to know that you exhausted every option to keep the man your heart sang hymns about. You could deal with the consequences later, because right now, you both needed to hear it.

“What’s wrong, beautiful?” He asked, knowing there was some kind of war being waged in your head. He was afraid, not of what you wanted to tell him, but because he thought you wanted to end the constant debacle between you.

You could deal with the aftermath later, but you were done being sad. He waited so long, just the same as you, and you had to say it.

I repent tomorrow

Hey ah na na tomorrow

I suspend my sorrow

“I don’t want to go home with him, Jake.” Your voice was strong despite your worry the words would not make it past your lips.

“Then don’t.” He could not help the spark of hope that ignited in his chest. He rested inside of you, terrified to move as he awaited what you would say next.

“You mean it?” Say it, or forever hold your peace, coward.

“You know there’s always a place for you in my bed.” He was unsure if he was taking your confession in the way you meant it, but by god he hoped that was what you meant. Your eyes caught his again, holding him captive with your stare. There was not enough courage in the world for you to say it, but you could not hide it any longer.

“I love you too, Jake.” You said, your tone strong and your intent true. Nearly a year later, you finally said it.

The world was still. The commotion outside of the doorway stopped, and your relentless thoughts wasted away to nothing. For a moment, you even believed your heart ceased to beat.

“I love you, Jake. I should have said it a long time ago, but I’m saying it now, and it has to count for something.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” he said, statue-like as he stood behind you. For a moment, you thought you might die from the pure grief that encased your heart. You waited too long. It was too late. “I’m sorry I hurt you, and I should have said that a long time ago.”

Neither of you moved, and neither of you knew what to do next.

You got what you thought he could never give, and he heard what he feared you might never say.

Was it over? Was that it? Did you end the curse that had plagued you since the very beginning? Had you repented enough for the rottenness of your actions?

Could you really have him with no secrets and no more lies? Could you love him without restraint, without any pain?

“Let me love you, Y/N. Let me do it right this time.”

“Okay.” You nodded, your eyes never leaving his face. “Please, Jake. The world hasn’t felt right since that night, until now. I want to try again, and I don’t want to be a terrible person anymore.”

Carefully, he withdrew from you, trying to limit the mess as he helped you up off the counter. He turned you to face him, bringing his hand to your cheek to swipe away a tear that escaped your eye.

“I have been waiting a lifetime to hear you say that, sweetheart. I would be a fucking idiot if I gave it up twice.” You lifted your head, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“I’m sorry it took so long. I’m sorry I was so stupid.” You said, reaching out and wrapping your arms around him.

The hug was simple, but to the two of you, it was everything.

“I was stupid, Y/N.” he said, burying his head in your hair. He took a deep breath, finally feeling the tension in his body fade away into nothing. The smell of your shampoo, and more specifically, the way his pillows used to smell when he was sleeping next to you, was his favorite thing in the whole world, and he’d been deprived of it for far too long. “I don’t want to be stupid anymore. I just want you.”

“I was always yours, Jake.” You whispered, closing your eyes as you rested your cheek on his bare chest. “From the minute I met you, until my very last day on earth.” He did not need to reply for you to know he was yours, too.

Finally, after writing your own wretched tale, you had grown enough to rewrite it and atone for all of the mistakes you made before.

Finally, you could love him without having to worry about anything else, without pain, and without suffering.

Finally, he was yours, and only yours, like it always should have been from the very beginning.

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kingofspadescos · 1 year ago

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Astarion x Reader - All You Wanna Do

Warnings - ANGST WITH GOOD ENDING

TW - Trauma, Sexual trauma mention

ALMOST MADE MYSELF CRY FROM THIS-

So in Six we all know Katherine Howard's (the pink one) song right? '

'All You Wanna Do'

And it goes through her lovers but how they only used her for her body?

Tell me that isn't Astarion.

Imagine after escaping Cazador (or at some point) he tries to get back out into the dating pool. He just wanted something, anything to make the numb feeling go away. And he thought he found it, but every day he'd wake up to an empty bed and every time he could feel more and more of himself break. Its an endless vicous cycle that he tries desperstly to break but fails inevitably.

He gives up, slinking back to the shadows and watching from afar.

But then one day when he slips out at night to visit a midnight market he accidently bumps into someone.

And it just so happens to be you.

He tilts his head when you smile up at him

"Sorry, sir, apprantly the skill of walking has alluded me" you said.

He's dumbfounded, a snarky remark at the tip of his tongue but unable to make it past his lips. How could it? You were truly breathtaking, the moonlight reflecting off your skin in a way he could only describe as ethereal.

And the way you looked at him, oh gods your eyes had him reeling. There was no hunger in them, no want, no lust, just embarrassment and genuine kindness, something he was not used to being the target of.

He could handle pure mindless need, but this? Such a sweet innocent little thing like you? Oh, no, he couldn't handle that. Not when you looked at him like he actually mattered in the world.

He barely managed out a stangled 'its fine' before dashing back to his dwelling...where he proceeded to lock himself away for days.

What else was he supposed to do? His heart was beating to another rhythm, a time that only meant heartbreak, anger, and self loathing. He couldn't handle it, not again.

But then, after a few days, a knock sounded at his door, and with caution he had opened it to find you there, holding his blade.

"Hi! You dropped this at the market a few days ago" you said "I asked around about you so I could find you, which was tremendously easy, apprantly there is only one known vampire around here."

And there that smile was again and those same eyes that had him crumbling.

"Thank you" he had coughed out, gently grabbing the blade. He wanted you out, far away from him as possible, just so he could function normally. But then your fingers accidently brushed his and he was almost done for.

Panic, excitement, fear, and hope came down on him in waves as he looked into your eyes again. He barely manged to stop himself from taking a step back as if the adoration and happiness that were captured in your eyes had physically pushed him.

"Well I should probably get going" you said turning to walk, and a new panic rose in his chest, the fear of never seeing you again.

"Wait!" He said too quickly for his own liking "come in for some tea, won't you? It's the least I could do to repay you."

From there you two go closer and closer, spending as much time together as possible. Each second he spent with you he felt his heart reach out towards you as if to embrace you and never let go.

But the fear was still there, the fear that he would get to close and you would leave him, just like everyone else.

However, the day came when you confessed. A new dagger in one hand and a rose in the other you looked up at him with those eyes. The same eyes he had yet to act normal about and told him you liked him and wanted him to be yours and you to be his.

The cold hand of panic that crippled his heart made an appearance, twisting the fear into his body and causing his knees to buckle. God's, he felt so stupid, felt so vulnerable and useless, but then a warmth surrounded him.

Your embrace.

You held him, arms tightly woven around his body keeping him secure to you.

"You can say no, you can tell me no" you had whispered, and he almost jumped at the out "but if you're willing to let me hold your heart ill shall cherish it til' the sun no longer shines and even then I shall create my own."

You had him in tears, hands clutching at you in desperation and head burying into your neck.

The rest of the night was spent with assurance and love, you guiding him through a simple kiss that led to nothing more.

And in the morning when he awoke, he cried again when he saw you curled into his side, hand clutching his with the intent of never letting go.

#Bg3 #baldurs gate #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion my beloved #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #angst #angst with a happy ending #Six #six the musical #im crying #fanfiction #vampire

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syndxlla · 2 years ago

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best friends don’t look at each other the way we do

A low stakes, high rewards and self-indulgent Zelink fanfic. Canon-compliant, takes place between BOTW and TOTK

chapter three: She is beautiful, I am a mess

Read chapter two here

My masterlist

Song: Lights are On by Tom Rosenthal

Summary: Link processes his destiny while Zelda slowly recovers. Link meets with an old friend, and realizes how much he wants to Zelda in his life.

Warnings: PTSD, implied self-harm, illness, trauma

Word Count: 3.3k words

Authors note: The last line of this? Scrumptious. I ate that up. Also I’m going to start doing different pieces of art/gifs at the start of each chapter mostly so I can see the differences in the notifications! Thanks for all the support! Everyone has been so kind this is easily the most supportive fan base I’ve ever written for.

Link doesn’t leave her side the entire night, yet again. He sits on a stool pushed against the bed, and watches as she breathes in the sleep. He refuses to sleep, which means he’s gone about four days now with very little actual rest. This normally wouldn’t be a problem, but fighting Ganon on the second day of that no sleep schedule has really taken a toll on his physical health.

In his quiet contemplation as Zelda rested, the weight of what just happened set in. His heart rate rose as he remembered the sight of the Calamity, its spider-like body dripping with malice and disgust as it sneered at him. The stench is still pungent in his memory, his bad ear still beats with the blood that filled his body as he faced his destiny for a second time. He’s supposed to be courageous, unafraid and rarely daunted by his fate, but in reality he’s terrified.

Link doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the feeling in his bones as witnessed by the beast. How he felt paralyzed, how the night before he prayed to the Goddess that he wouldn’t wake up. Make someone else do it, please.

He could never admit this to anyone, and even struggles to admit it to himself. If he’s supposed to be the closest thing to the God of Bravery, why does he feel like such a pathetic coward most of the time? Maybe it was his reckless abandon that caused his status, or the fact that he’s so desensitized to the horrors of his knighthood. But those things do not equate to courage.

What even was courage, he asks himself.

He looks at Zelda. “She is beautiful”, he thinks “I am a mess”.

Link places a nervous thumb to her jaw with trepidation. He gently holds her face, soft enough that it wouldn’t wake her. Her skin is so soft, her eyelashes so gentle, her breathing even. Does she have any idea how beautiful she is when she sleeps?

When day finally breaks, Link realizes how cold it’s gotten in the house, and he takes the brave step of leaving the sleeping princess to build a fire in the hearth. He does so quickly, using a fire arrow. He pulls on a warm shirt, and quickly returns upstairs to Zelda.

She was awake, looking up at him.

“You should keep sleeping.” He whispers.

She groans, “Why did you leave?” She was aware enough to tell?

“I built a fire.” Link explains, "It's cold.”

“Oh.” Zelda whispers, “I am cold.”

Link crosses to his dresser and pulls out a woven blanket from the bottom drawer, draping it over her and the blanket she already had. She whispers thank you. ”Did you dream?” Link asks.

Zelda nods.

“It was me and my mom, we were eating and laughing together.” She describes and Link smiles. He places his hand against her forehead, and feels that she’s burning up. Of course she has a fever, that would cause her body to have the chills, that on top of a cold house wasn’t a good fit.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, vocalizing from a whisper for the first time.

Zelda thinks about it for a moment, she’s so snuggled up in the blankets all he can see is her face. “I’m not sick.” She states. Link is skeptical, but he nods.

“Go back to sleep.”

“Are you going to leave me again?” She asks.

“I might. I think I’ll go into town and get some things from the market, and I should probably send a message to Impa that we’re alive.” Link explains. Zelda frowns.

“I’m scared to be alone again.”

Link frowns, “You’ll be okay. But you need to sleep, your body is trying to recover from-“ He stops himself, he doesn't need to explain any further.

“You need sleep, too.” Zelda replies. She was right.

“I’ll be fine.” He shrugs it off. “But you need to promise me that you’ll be okay if I leave for a few hours, alright?”

Zelda groans, “You’ll come back, right?”

“Of course.”

It’s a few more hours before he leaves, he waits until Zelda falls back asleep, and it’s mid-morning when he finally does. He makes his way into Hateno Village, which is as lively as ever. He first stops in at the general store, buying a few essential items, and telling the store keeper about where he was last.

“You’re telling me you got rid of that thing at Hyrule Castle?” He asks, skeptical. Link just nods and shrugs as he examines a swift carrot. Like it was no big deal. The man laughs behind the counter, “And you lived to tell the tale? I don’t believe it.” He scoffs.

Link sets his items on the table between them, digging out a handful of rupees. “Well, I lived to tell the tale of Naydra last year, you all witnessed that, didn’t you?”

“I suppose… but that thing at the castle is a legend, I never even saw it. Just got told ghost stories of it as a boy.” His voice was gruff.

Link smiles, “whatever you want to believe, you don’t have to believe me.” Link sets to rupees down.

“That’s more than the cost.” The man states.

“Keep it.” Link pushes it towards him before putting his items in his pouch. “Use it to fix your roof, I saw it was leaking.”

The man smiles, “you’re always so good to us, Link. This village owes you.”

“You don’t owe me anything, except maybe your trust. The story will spread and rumors will, too.” Link turns to leave, but stops just outside of the door, speaking over his shoulder. “It wasn’t a ghost either, it was a spider-like thing that hatched out of a cocoon with giant axes and swords.” Link opens his arms up to show the size, “Probably at least the size of three oxen!” The shopkeeper's face goes pale, “But that wasn’t even the hard part!” Link starts to smile mischievously, “Then we took the battle onto Hyrule Field, and he turned into a massive pig. As big as a house, or bigger.”

The owner was dumbfounded, unable to reply at first, but then he shook his head, “You have quite the imagination, Link!” He chuckles and waves him off. Link just grins as he exits the shop.

He makes his way up the mountain to Purah and Symin’s, making a stop at the farm to pet the cows and help the owner with a broken fence post in trade for some milk. It was about noon now, and he wasn’t expecting to take as long to get to the Tech Lab, but the fence was absolutely destroyed. The farmer didn’t know what caused it, but it certainly wasn’t a cow…

The light on the Hateno valley is warm and inviting. It will be the harvest soon. Link had missed his days here. Early on after he woke up, he spent weeks at a time in this little village. Mostly because he was still too poor to afford sleeping anywhere other than his home. It was a safe home base for him when he was freeing the divine beasts. It wasn’t until he had laid his friends' spirits to rest that he became the wild child of the forest he was now. The last year or so he stopped spending more than a few days anywhere, it was the anxiety of the upcoming battle he kept avoiding that caused him to become such a nomad. He learned that it was always free to sleep in trees.

He gets to the lab, and before he can even open the door, Purah is swinging the door open. “Linky! You’re alive!” She cheers, looking up at him.

”I am,” Link replies with a smile, “and Zelda is, too.”

Purah smiles wide, her eyes becoming fiery, “Incredible. Is she okay!” She opens the door for Link, he enters the messy-as-usual lab, setting his sack of goodies down on the table.

“I don’t know…” Link shakes his head, “She’s very tired all the time, and she passed out quite unexpectedly last night.” He sighs. “I’m actually rather worried about her.” He admits. “It took me a long time to wake her up after she passed out, too. Longer than it should have.” Purah walks over to the table before climbing on top of it to Link’s eye-level.

“But she’s alive! And I’m assuming her body has been preserved, no?”

“It has, she doesn’t look a day over seventeen. But her spirit and her mind has changed, she’s tired.”

“Aren’t we all…” Purah shakes her head, “But no one as much as her.” She shrugs, “I would love to run some tests on you two, it might help me figure out my age issue.”

“More tests? I thought you said you were done with me?” Link groans.

“Nope, now that Zelda is here I want to take a sample of her DNA, too, and see if I can reverse-engineer it to cross with my DNA and get me back to my preferred physical age. I’m sick of this.” She gestures to her child-like state.

“When she’s feeling better I’ll ask her. I’m sure she’ll say yes, considering her love of science and all.”

“Alright Linky, what are you here for, I know you didn’t come to just talk, you always need something from me.” She teases.

“Alright Purah… don’t be mad.” He says as he reaches into his pouch to pull out a smashed and destroyed sheikah slate: the same one that got him through his quest.

Purah’s face goes white. “You did not just do that to an ancient piece of indestructible tech.” She reaches for it, taking the device in her hand and cringing.

“Well it wasn’t that indestructible, now was it?” Link asks with an awkward laugh.

“How?” Purah asks, traumatized.

“It happened while I fought Ganon, it kind of… exploded, and then he trampled it as a giant hog in Hyrule field.”

“That is…” She chooses her words carefully, “Epic, Linky.”

“You’re not mad?”

“No! But you’re gonna be when you can warp to sheikah hotspots. You’ll just have to go on foot like the rest of us. Speaking of, did you see what happened to the shrine in the ocean?”

“What?” He obviously didn’t.

“It sunk back into the ground, completely gone! Symin watched it happen! I’m curious about that happening to the other sheikah tech…” She gets lost in thought, and Link realizes that they all might disappear just as fast as they were found. “No one is gonna be more heartbroken about this than the Princess.” Purah finishes her thoughts.

“I’m hiding it from her. She can’t take a heart break in this state.” Link groans, sitting down in one of the chairs by the table. “Purah… I need you to send a message to Impa. I would go myself in person and be back by dinner but I can’t because the slate is gone. I know you sheikah have weird ways of communicating through distance, especially you sisters.” Link sighs.

“Oh she’ll beat you if you don’t go in person. You know how she is.”

“Yes. Which is why I am absolutely sick over this. But I can’t leave Zelda, she’s not okay, and I don’t know how long it’s going to be until she is.” He explains. “Impa can be mad at me all she wants, but she deserves to know that we are both alive and safe, and Ganon is not.”

Purah squints, “Fine. But you owe me.”

“As if saving the world wasn’t enough.” Link scoffs playfully.

“Hey! Don’t get cocky, no one likes a cocky hero. Besides, it’s not like you did it on your first try.” Purah jumps down from the table and Link’s entire body seizes. She freezes in her tracks when she realizes she said that out loud. She slowly turns around to see Link tense and unhappy. “Linky… I’m sorry I didn’t mean-“

He says nothing at first, “Is that what you guys say about me?”

“Link, we've always pushed each other's buttons like that.”

“It’s fine.” He sighs, it wasn’t fine. He signs, “I’m leaving. I don’t need anyone else’s shit.” He always signed when his emotions were at risk of betraying his words. He didn’t want to upset someone with his words. Purah isn’t very good at signs, but she gets the gist.

It was rare to see Link genuinely mad, especially at someone he cared about and knows is good. But that was out of line.

“Link…”

“Will you just tell Impa that we’re okay. Both of us. The calamity is gone and we’ll come visit as soon as we get our strength back.” He grabs his belongings and heads out.

“Wait-“ Purah tries to stop him but he leaves too fast. He takes a deep breath when he gets outside, looking out towards the sea. He walks towards the edge of the cliff, staring out at the horizon, letting the salty sea air blow on his skin. He looks where the shrine that lived in the water once was, and nothing was there but the original mound of island sand it sat on.

Back at home, Zelda is still in bed, and Link frowns when he sees her. He sits on his stool next to her, placing his hand against her forehead again. Her fever hasn’t broken.

“I’m home.” He whispers, and she stirs awake, her green eyes looking up at him. She smiles.

“I had the most wonderful dream.” She sighs. “We were at the beach, you and I, and Impa and Urbosa… and my mother.” Link worries that she dreams about those who have passed, he brushes some of her golden hair out of her face. “We looked at the water and listened to the seagulls. My mother was so beautiful and healthy, not like how she was when I remembered her.”

Zelda was very young when her mother died, and she was quite ill for the years leading up to her passing. Link remembered that, he remembered many of the things Zelda opened up to him about in their final days before The Calamity. “Do you want some water?” Link asks, she nods. He stands up, making his way to the well outside and scooping a bucket of it before coming back in. He finds her sitting up in bed.

“Did you get up all by yourself?” He asks with a smile. She nods, her face still pale and expression lost. She was much worse today. Link scoops some water out with a cup, and hands it to her. She shakily holds it in both hands, bringing the wooden mug up to her lips and sipping lightly. Link sits beside her this time, but he feels petrified.

In the last two days they've already crossed so many boundaries. He feels as though he has to be the stoic Knight from before, never looking at her for too long, not speaking unless spoken to, and especially not touching without explicit permission. That was a whole lifetime ago, however, and he’s barely the same person he was when those were the rules.

But even so, he can’t help but follow those roles that he keeps breaking. He shouldn’t see her in such a state: shirt too loose, eyes droopy, sighs so gentle and alluring it could tame a lynel.

He knows no one is watching them, no one is there to judge them, but he cannot bring himself to hold her hand as she shakes, even though he desperately wants to. Placing his hand on her head to check for temperature and burns in her hair from her face was already a serious breach of protocol, and yet when he did it, he felt so comfortable, so safe. He felt more like himself.

Maybe what’s holding him back is the knowledge that she didn’t lose her memories. To her, he is supposed to be that obedient servant.

He knows they got very close towards the end. Based on the memories he’s recollected, he knows they broke those rules far more than they should have. But it was always by Zelda’s instigation. She wanted him to place his hand on the small of her back as they walked, she asked him to lace up her goddess dress, she initiated the gentle touches and hugs of despair.

Now, he’s terrified of taking advantage of her in her sickly state, but he wants so badly to lie with her. To finally get some rest of his own, in his own bed, holding the girl he worked so tirelessly to rescue.

He wishes he could rest as a reward.

He reminds himself that her presence, safety and life is reward enough.

And goddess, is that a wonderful reward. Her weight sinking down the bed, her intoxicating smell, their shoulders just barely brushing. She was incredible, completing a feat that no one had ever come close to accomplishing, and here she was, in his home, in his bed, wearing his clothes.

Link's stomach flips, and he immediately forces himself to relax. Realizing how immature his though process was. This was a princess, not a girl in the Gerduo Brothel. He was confused.

“What are you thinking about?” She asks him, pulling him out of his rampant thoughts. He snaps back to reality.

“What?” He turns to see her looking up at him with her shiny eyes. “Oh…” He desperately wants to tell her, tell her that he’s thinking of her and only her. For three years he spent sleepless nights staring at the heavens and thinking about her. How he hungrily searched for every memory just to hear her voice, and how he took her diary out of the castle to read every page, even the ones that were scribbled with doodles and blacked-out poetry. He wanted to tell her that he fell for her the moment she told him to open-his-eyes, and when he finally remembered what she looked like, she was even prettier than what he imagined.

“…Horses.” He says, dumbfounded and foolish. She smiles.

“I’ve always admired how you loved them. You were the best rider in all of the guard, I fully believe it’s because of how gentle you were with them. They trusted you, which made them listen to you.”

The way she spoke was so thoughtful, so intelligent. Link catches himself accidentally looking at her lips, but yanks his eyes away.

“W-What were you thinking about?” He asks.

She looks off, swallowing thickly. Zelda then lifts her hand, holding it palm up, staring at it. Nothing happens.

“My gift isn’t working anymore.” She states. “I tried while you were getting the water, and look, nothing.” Zelda explains. Link looks at her hand, not knowing what he’s supposed to see.

Her hand is so soft, her fingers long and slender, her nails clean and rounded to perfection.

Her wrists are littered with old scars.

Link wants to take her hand. She sets it down in her lap, “I suppose that’s alright. I don’t need them anymore.”

“What was it like?” Link asks. “In that castle.” Zelda shudders. “You don’t have to say.” Link states.

Zelda carefully constructs her words, “Cold. All the time I was cold. I wasn’t conscious usually, but I wasn’t… unconscious either. I know it makes no sense. I was in a sort of trance. Time seemed to move at a rapid pace while also simultaneously standing still.” She looks at him, rotating her body to face him, he mirrors her.

“Did he ever… say anything?” Link asked.

Zelda nodded, “In the beginning he would whisper constantly, but it was an ancient language I didn’t understand. The longer time went on, the more tired he got, but the wiser I became. He spoke less, and I was able to pick up on certain words and phrases. He didn’t expect me to last as long as I did, that’s for certain.”

Link listens intently, “How did you do it, last so long?” He asks.

Zelda’s big, green eyes meet his. She takes his hand with hers.

“Because I knew one day you would wake up.”

—

Read Chapter four here

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beforeviolets · 28 days ago

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underrated reads of 2024

books I read in 2024 with under 1000 ratings on goodreads // adult fiction

Fallen Thorns by Harvey Oliver Baxter

I love calling this book a vampire coming-of-age campus novel and I stand by it. I still need to read the standalone prequel to this world, but I really loved this work.

The Sins On Their Bones by Laura R. Samotin

*physical ARC from the publisher

Shadow and Bone meets FMA: Brotherhood in this dark adult Jewish fantasy about sexual assault, war, and trauma. Definitely a tough read, but again, one I really enjoyed and can’t wait for the sequel of.

Smile and Be A Villain by Yves Donlon

*finished copy from the author

This diverse Hamlet retelling is easily the most underrated book of the year. Especially for a self-pub debut, this was absolutely fantastic. A diverse cast, a rich landscape of politics and religious complexities, a QPR between Hamlet and Ophelia, come on! I’m so excited for this sequel after seeing the way Donlon perfectly laid out threads throughout the book to pull tight into a perfect harmonious tapestry right at the end.

Uncommon Charm by Emily Bergslein and Kat Weaver

Picked this up because I can’t resist a Marlowe Lune cover, and because it’s a mixed genre story with queer and Jewish rep! The title for this book honestly perfectly describes it. It’s complicated and maybe doing too much but its uniqueness is just so charming.

In the Roses of Pieria by Anna Burke

*finished copy from the publisher

Sapphic vampires are always worth anyone’s time and this was such a unique take on them! I don’t think I’ll be continuing the series but I really loved the combo of archival work, fungal horror, and sapphic romance.

All Our Yesterdays by Joel H. Morris

*finished copy from the publisher

A fascinating prequel to Macbeth focusing on Lady Macbeth and her son! Slow paced, but full of interesting themes and ideas that this book explores with tact.

Caraway of the Sea by Madeline Burget

*finished copy from the author

A really sweet self-published pirate story featuring a diverse cast and found family. I enjoyed the writing, and for a self-pub book, I found the work to be quite polished and readable! I loved our MC, Caraway, who is so incredibly snarky and stubborn and guarded, and her journey throughout the story was really compelling.

The Naming Song by Jedediah Berry

*physical ARC from the publisher

A wholly unique theatre kid epic, this was one of my stand-outs of the year. Anyone who loves storytelling should read this book. It’s just so whimsically and completely its own.

Metal From Heaven by August Clarke

*physical ARC from the publisher

I think I’ve raved about this book enough but absolutely the book the world needs right now. This brutal dyke fantasy is straying from the pack and ambitiously crafting its own path, and it pays off. Obsessed.

Other underrated reads of 2024:

plays

non-fiction

poetry

MG/YA/graphic novels

#2024 reads #2024 reading wrap up #bookblr #metal from heaven #the naming song #caraway of the sea #all our yesterdays #uncommon charm #in the roses of pieria #smile and be a villain #the sins on their bones #fallen thorns

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venusgirltarot · 2 years ago

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What Would An Album About You Sound Like?

Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.

Close your eyes, take a deep breath, envision the person you are thinking of and then choose the pile(s) you feel most drawn to.

Pile One

Ahhh okay this is so cute. Im going to try to explain this as best as I can, Pile 1. So this seems like a concept album. The idea of the album (not the sound but idea ya know) reminds me of “Melodrama” by Lorde. I’ll leave a quote here for a better description but it’s like a concept album about a single night

“Melodrama is described as a loose concept album that explores the theme of solitude, in the framework of a single house party with the events and moods that entail it”

The album about you is similar in the sense that it’s a “loose concept album” but it’s about the writer seeing you. It’s like you’re at this party that the songwriter is also at and they’re obsessed from the moment they lay eyes on you. You’re like this beautiful unobtainable being to them and they want to get to know you so bad but they just can’t seem to talk to you. This could also progress to a one night stand that never progresses to more because of a lack of communication to this album is going through the writer meeting you and watching you throughout the night and then goes into their regrets and what they wish they would have said to you the next day, if that makes sense.

They see you at a party and think you’re so beautiful but can’t seem to find the words to tell you that. I keep hearing “I like the way my bedsheets look on your body” from “hello!” By role model. (I believe that’s the right song but lmk if it’s wrong so I can fix it!) and I keep being reminded of this musician on TikTok “Chappell Roan” and their song “Red Wine Supernova” I think that’s similar to what this album would sound like and it also fits the aesthetic. I highly recommend you listen to this song because it fits your album so perfectly. I tried to find a lyric that resonates the best to include but they all work so well that I couldn’t choose.

Despite this entire album being about only you and just one night leading into the next morning, it’s still so diverse (I hope that makes sense) like you’d think there’s only so many songs you could write about a 12ish hour time frame and one person but this writer has endless things to say about you and the night you met them. I could see one song having a feature and it’s later in the album somewhere between tracks 7-12 or so. The aesthetic of the album is very neon lights, the dance floor on prom night after everything has died down and people are starting to go home, slow, melodramatic and just really pretty. Again, I highly recommend you check out “Red Wine Supernova” because it fits so well.

Track list:

1. Pretty

2. Blooming

3. missing you

4. Shinning Eyes

5. Dying Slow

6. Party Streamers

7. Old Fashioned (Feat. Another Artist)

8. Starlight

9. Nova’s Surprise

10. Sunset

11. morning after

12. You

Pile Two

Pile two, your album sounds like one written by Hozier, Noah Kahan or The Lumineers. It reminds me a lot of “Angela” by The Lumineers. Specifically the lyric “Angela, spent your whole life running away” and “vacancy, hotel room, lost in me, lost in you” it also reminds me of Ethel Cain in the sense that it’s a concept album about running away and starting a new life (but not as dark as ethel’s and with a much better outcome than she got. I heard “success story” it’s about leaving behind a difficult past and moving forward. There’s hope for the future in these songs, remembrance of the past and healing trauma. It’s a beautiful album with a good balance of different emotions. I could see this album coming with a short film or a series of music videos that piece together to tell a store. Similar to “III” by the Lumineers.

I keep hearing a few snippets from the deluxe version of “Stick Season” (that will be out June 9th 👀) like “Medicate meditate swear your soul to Jesus / Throw a punch fall in love give yourself a reason” or “we ain’t angry at you love, you’re the greatest thing we’ve lost” it’s such a beautiful album with so much soul and emotion.

I could see this album getting an acoustic live version that artists do sometimes like “Album, live from Wherever” you know? This album has very unique and catchy lyrics that stick with people, the type of lyrics people take and sell on things in their Etsy shop or use as a quote in their yearbook or put in their instagram bio. It almost feels like poetry. I also heard “escapism” this is the type of music that paints a picture and takes you somewhere else. This album will kind of chronologically tell a story about you moving forward and healing from trauma and finding a peaceful ending. Ending with a song like “Angelia”

Track list

1. movement

2. Adelaide’s Interlude

3. mother

4. farmhouse

5. leave me behind

6. baby blue

7. mustang

8. you’re gonna go far

9. more than this

10. peace

11. at your own pace

12. growing pains

13. at last

Pile Three

I feel like this album has a soft rock sort of sound? Like hozier with a rockier edge if that makes sense? It reminds me of the way hozier sings about love. He sings about a very deep and impactful love and his writing his like poetry and I think that’s what an album about you would sound like. I think this album could be about the writer/musician fighting feelings for you because they’re focused on career or are just concerned about the outcome of the relationship. They might have a fear of falling or something.

However, the last card I pulled was the 10 of cups so the outcome is very good. I feel like this album is coming from a reflective place like this is after yourself and your spouse have settled down and had kids or pets or whatever you would like and your partner is looking back at your relationship from the very beginning up until now and writing about it.

I keep hearing “I’m in love with an emo girl” I don’t think this is what the album will sound like but maybe that’s your aesthetic/vibe? This might just be conformation for you. I also keep hearing that Shania Twain song “you’re still the one” this is the kind of album that fans would dissect like narrow down the time you met your person and talk about every lyric and how that lyric relates to you and your relationship etc. this album talks about how devoted and in love with you your person is but also talks about the (I heard “trials and tribulations”) it took for you two to get there so it may include religious reference. Like religion by Lana Del Rey or Don’t Blame Me by Taylor Swift where there’s this slight aspect of religion/devotion to your partner.

You hear a lot about how you have to actively choose your partner everyday to make a long term relationship work and this album would definitely delve into that a little. It could also be produced by you and your partner’s mutual friends or people who have been there since the beginning or very early in in your relationship. I think this would be a longer album and there’s definitely 18+ songs on there 👀

Track list

1. October

2. Cosmic

3. Full Moon

4. Bourbon Street

5. She’s All Over Me

6. Starla

7. The Empress

8. Diamond Eyes

9. Find More of Me

10. Dreamscape

11. Escapades

12. Midnight

13. You’re All I Need

14. Mirror

15. Apartment 32

16. Deep End

17. Eternity

#free tarot readings #free readings #tarot cards #tarotblr #tarot reader #spirituality #tarotcommunity #tarot related #paid readings #tarot #love tarot reading

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musicfranchisetournament · 6 months ago

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propaganda under the cut !!

paradox live :

ive seen my friends talk about it and also theres this really pretty girl i thibk her name is anne? i wanna kiss her mwah

The world is set in the future where the hip hop artists have these cool Phantom Metals that produce cool illusions as they perform with the downside of the performers reliving their worst trauma after using it. Every group has their own theme, aesthetic, and music style Every character has canon trauma which perfect for angst Found family It's still going on They do April Fools on the fandom every year (2024 being an ad for a cat game)

charisma house :

genuinely what the fuck. i don't think i've seen a song franchise as bonkers as charisma house and i doubt i ever will. it's so entertaining and the characters are all unhinged in the best way possible. none of them are 100% good people at the end of the day and i think this just makes the whole ordeal even funnier. are you kidding me you have some random 19 yo who invites people to go live in a random house one day and they just go. the songs are so so good (most of the time. stares at my two exceptions) and whenever it's a full group song? they're always parodies of another common popular song which is so funny to me every time i hear them. i love charisma house and will defend it to the days end

It's so silly and entertaining:) the songs are sick and super catchy . The visuals are super unique .. and the concept of these eccentric crazy guys all living in a house together with the power of charisma has some super hilarious interactions. Also charisma is the power that can save the world.. and if these guys get too overpowered with their charisma they go through yugioh style transformations and break out into song... so there is that little detail<3

they're just ordinary guys. music part aside the story is funny until it gets serious and then it's funny AND heartwrenching. music part?? group songs are based on nursery rhymes and they fucking suck but also go so hard. their solo songs all have their own genres and they're so. Aodhajhfhdhfbd Stream viva la liberation.

Funny gay people living in a house together and all their songs parody children's songs, and all their music videos are like Cocomelon on crack. They're funny and they have a lovely found family dynamic. Very silly guys, I'm so normal about them.

Never in my life have i seen a piece of media change me this much as a person while doing the bare minimum. Perhaps the fact that it is the bare minimum and i still fell for it regardless says more about its power than any words could ever begin to describe. So utterly ridiculous in the most perfect way possible and so weirdly deep in also the best way possible but without forgetting its still fucking ridiculous. The appeal of Charisma House is that its Charisma House, and that same thing manages to be both its strength and its weakness, but its weakness is so grand it ends up becoming a strength, and perhaps its biggest strength by far. Talking about Charisma House makes me feel insane emotions because you cant describe it as good but you still know fully well its not bad either despite that being the easiest way to describe it. Sooner than later after so many episodes you'll end up realizing you have fell in its trap. Once you start caring. Once you start analyzing the miniscule tid bits of plot. Once all of that starts occurring you will soon come to realize you have been another victim of the mystical power Charisma House has on every single person that watches it. Or perhaps you just dont fucking care after 5 episodes and you leave it at that. This is perhaps the best option for everyone in the world. I wouldn't recommend this to anyone but the fact that i still do from time to time is because i want everyone else in the world to experience the unknown horrors of this media project until each and every one of them realize they have fallen down a hole they will never be able to escape. also Awwwww ohsebso cute i like ohse aaawwwww so cute 😍

#tournament poll #b side #paradox live #paralive #charisma house

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christinebloodwrittings · 18 days ago

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Die in your arms #6

Alastor x Fem!Reader

Taglist open: @littlebluefishtail @maxlynn17 @vxllys @modifiedmonster @sirens-and-moonflowers @qardasngan @polytheatrix

Warnings: Implied SA, imprisonment, trauma, blood, demons, thoughts of death, self harm, cannibalism.

Masterlist

Proofing made by: @littlebluefishtail

January 1908. Sacramento, California.

“May the winter never wither your garden” the melody echoed in the hallway. “And may the cruel passage of time not erase your smile” The melody was lost in the echo of the hallway. Your voice was fragile and hoarse, which made the song lose some of its romanticism, “For we will meet again, over the green hill”.

Blood dripped from your shackles onto your fingers, the thickness of the liquid stinging your skin, but after a while, you got used to it. The tips of your fingers that could still move traced meaningless scribbles on the damp stone floor that marked your skin.

“I will love you, wherever you go. I will wait for you” the air suddenly got thicker, perhaps the boss set up a fire again, you thought.

“How lovely, what is that?” a voice spoke from the dark corner of the cell. Your eyes were barely open and your body remained limp against the wall, was it another client? You silently prayed that wasn’t the case.

“Something my mom used to sing for me” your voice was weak. With the little strength you could gather you tried to push yourself further into the wall, attempting to hide any access to your body from him.

“Don’t fret, little one” he began, a weight fell in front of you, “My name is Lucifer Morningstar, King of hell, and you just called me using your blood” weakly you looked up, to his marmoled white skin, glowing yellow eyes, golden locks and sharp smile.

He pointed down to your hand, where small sharply carved pentagrams lay stained in your scribbles. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to” you shook your head, you had no idea who or what this being was.

“Don’t. Look how beautiful you are” he gently used his claws to move your hair out of your face. His tone was sincere, unlike the clients who spoke about your beauty in a lustful way. “You seem happy” it was inevitable to notice the joy in his eyes, it was definitely not because he was there with you.

“Oh I am, you see, my wife gave birth to my daughter, I’m truly happy” great another reminder of what you could never feel. “How joyous” you said anyway, “Thank you” he giggled, the movement made you notice the big wings on his back.

“Are you an angel?” you reached for one of the feathers that fell loose on the ground, it was soft and heavy. He chuckled softly, not attempting to take the feather off your hand, “Used to be, many years ago” he seemed different, for an angel, right Lucifer was it? The devil from the Bible? What an absolute joke.

“Sir, can you grant me a wish?” making a deal with the devil while not knowing what they would do to you seemed the best call to make. After all, there was no way you would see heaven anyways, not after what they had done to you, or so you thought.

“I can, in exchange for something” he would love to break you out of those chains, but he had rules to follow, regardless of being the king, this wasn't his domain. “I don’t have a penny to my name” you wondered what he may ask of you in exchange of your heart’s desire.

“You have to give me something that is worth the same thing you’ll ask of me, for example, your soul” he didn’t have to, he didn’t want to, yet again, not his domain.

“I’ll give you my soul then” No matter how much this person took from you, it couldn't be worse than what they would do to you. And if you had to offer yourself, body and soul, to the devil in order to achieve your freedom, so be it. Of course, it was the same thought, although a little less elaborate at the time, you were 16 years old after all.

“In exchange?” he wondered, “Look inside my heart.” There were no words to describe the longing, but Lucifer's snake eyes knew how to decipher it and leave it in writing. In the air he made a golden contract, and from his wings he took a feather and signed his name with his blood, in exquisite cursive.

“Anything else?” he spoke with a smile. “I can ask for something else?” your heart felt warm at the subtle glint in his eyes, “I feel rather generous”.

“Then, I would like to always have a home wherever you are” that way you wouldn’t be thrown out onto the streets again.

“You do understand if you make a contract with me, you’ll never see Heaven” he hesitated, thinking ‘she’s just a child’ maybe, you didn't know where he came from. “I understand now, I didn’t know that truly existed” did it really matter anyway? you didn’t call him on your own will, the pentagram was carved in the cell and you just happened to bleed there, what are the odds?

Wait, him having your soul means he owns you, just like they made sure to own you too. You realized you’d be in chains no matter if you escape or not.

“But I want to add a condition” you caught his attention as he made space on the paper for it. “If you forget about me, my soul will be mine to claim, my power remaining the same, and you’ll give me a high position in your army” he smiled from ear to ear upon hearing it, almost laughing at it, but he was very confident.

“How could I forget such a witty little thing like yourself? It’s a deal, miss…?” he handed you his feather, you dipped the tip in your blood and signed your name on the parchment. It wasn't easy writing with shackles on your wrists but it was done somewhat legibly. “Y/n Desmond, nice to meet you” he read, taking the contract and turning it into light. You watched as it flew down to your index finger and settled around it like a golden ring. It disappeared as soon as he touched it, but you could still feel it there.

“Good luck Y/n, I believe I'll see you someday. Although I trust in your tenacity, I’ll still warn you that if I see you in hell before it's your time I will make you suffer the consequences” he smiled, shaking your hand gently. His threat meant well, in a creepy way, he wanted you to live your life and not give up before the time was right, “Thank you, Luci” the rest of his name fell back to your mind due to a stinging pain down on your waist.

“Oh, and one last thing, think about this as a gift” he hovered his hand on top of your pelvis, making a light shine. Suddenly the endless sting of the procedure dissipated, and up your vagina felt hollow and empty. “I trust you’ll make them pay” he had erased your pain in seconds. “In due time, sir” after that, his visit was the last you could actually remember with detail from your years at the brothel.

The psychologist that saw you many years later called it memory gaps, or dissociative amnesia caused by trauma. To put it simply, it took all those bad memories and buried them in a box, locked them down and stowed them away in the darkest corner of the mind, to never be found again.

Though some situations may trigger memories and trauma responses.

Each time, it was harder and harder to remember faces, names, places. It was all a continuous blur, there was just pain, screams, laughter, smells and him.

May 1914. New Orleans, Louisiana.

Shadows danced round the room, voices chanted old languages as you brushed your hair in front of the vanity. “The corrosion is expanding” the disembodied voice hovered behind your back, faintly touching you over the scars, as if redirecting energy throughout your body. “How long do I have?” you could see your breath in the air, but you couldn’t feel the cold the demon emanated.

The disembodied demon hummed nonchalantly, “Enough” it responded, with a notorious smile. “How reassuring” you rolled your eyes, allowing it to braid your hair behind your back. “I'm not here to make you feel better” and yet it was gentle, maybe because it was being paid to do so.

“Is it visible?” you stood up, adjusting your robe. “Not to the human eye” it moved forward, standing in front of you, two purple eyes with a light on its head, uncanny and yet reassuring. “I will give this report back to Lady Belphegor, see what she can recommend” it moved towards the vanity, leaving a labeled box and two bottles on top, “I'll get back to you next week, here’s your three month regime” the medication was of demon origin, the only thing that could keep the corrosion at bay.

“I appreciate it” you adjusted the bandages on your wrist as it moved away. “How long will this last?” your chest burned with every breath, “It will consume you, I can only do so much to delay it, but that amount of power is too much for a human body”. The consequence of the deal was strong, but worth it. “Everything will resolve itself with death, might as well do it already” with that last statement, the voice and the shadows dissipated.

The impulse to throw the vanity out the window was strong, but you hit the wall instead, the spot behind the painting of a meadow that Alastor had given you to ‘bring some joy to the room’.

Crossing your arms over your abdomen, you grasped the sides on your ribs and pulled the skin with your fingernails. Falling to your knees always brought up a shiver and an electric jolt up your spine, this time everything was numb.

What was keeping you from it? You could easily die and arrive in hell the most powerful demon in existence, why were you hesitating so much? Vengeance, what was getting the bastards killed going to achieve?

Was it going to bring back all those lost years? Your virginity? Your old self? The pieces of skin they cut and burnt?

No…But they took everything, the only dream you had, your will to live, even joy and sadness. There was just anger, an insane amount of anger…to a pointless desire of blood and irreparable damage that would not get you any satisfaction whatsoever.

A thick dribble sound was intercepted in between your ragged breathing. You had managed to pull your skin to the bleeding point again. With a hiss you took your fingers off, watching as a drop of blood fell down your arm to your elbow.

It was good that Alastor had so many chemicals to wipe off blood, otherwise he would tell just how many times you do this to yourself.

After bandaging yourself and cleaning the mess with the chemicals you hide under the bed, you stepped out of your room. The routine changed since the punching incident with Alastor.

He noticed a change in your demeanor. No longer shy and fearful, now that he knew you could beat his ass, he guessed you no longer needed to fake ingenuity. At least, that made the coexistence a bit easier, for Alastor.

No matter how much you despised his unseriousness, taking care of his wounds was the least you could do. Until you left the work to the nurse.

Back in April, you had asked her to help him out, because he wouldn't stop teasing you and because you couldn't deal with anything at the moment.

“Y/n told me what happened, I’m here to aid you” Rosemary smiled, her presence ever so soothing, like a mother’s. “How precise, she made sure not to hurt anything vital” she hovered her fingers over Alastor’s bruises. “Was it on purpose?” He asked, aware of the answer, but he wanted to confirm.

“Well of course, she wouldn’t have hurt you deliberately” she smiled. “How do you know that?” He didn't expect to see her roll up her sleeve to show a deep scratch scar and bite mark, “Because I met her before she was in trial”.

Rosemary suddenly giggled at the memory, “She cried every time she hurt me, just like a wounded puppy” in response he hummed, learning crumbs about your past made the temptation to open the file even stronger, “You just have to be patient, once you earn her trust and respect she will be sweeter” she pulled him out of thought.

“How?” he wondered, “You could start by taking her seriously” her gaze was cold, it was a reprimand, as clear as one could be. “If you wish to be respected you have to show the same respect back” that struck him back to what his mother used to teach him, how could he forget?

“She was in a far worse state when I met her, you know?” she recalled when you were still struggling with the opium addiction. Laying on the floor of the nursery, shaking and grunting in pain, scratching your arms and abdomen as to cope with the pain of the withdrawal and the medicine used to flush it out of your system.

“Her skin was thin, pale. Her eyes were dead looking, sunken in her skull. Infected wounds everywhere, but she somehow continued walking, fighting. She passed the enrollment test of the army despite her brittle condition” She smiled, even giggled at Alastor's puzzled expression, “Read the file, you’ll understand”.

“But don’t let her past define her, don’t allow her to drown. If you treat her like a victim she will hurt you” she poked him in one of his bruises, “She’s one hell of a warrior, treat her as such” with amusement she smiled. Alastor had no other option but to suppress a yelp, “Yes ma’am” she was just like his mother, how odd was that.

“I can see you like her” she smiled, reading through what was on his mind. However, he wouldn’t say he liked you, but…he was curious.

“She hates me” was burnt into his mind, the look you gave him upon deciding whether to kill him or not, you were ready to do so, but chose not to. “Hate is not in her vocabulary” she was true to her word, you wouldn’t use the word hate to describe anything, it was a sentiment solely reserved towards a single person. The one who actually sold you to the mafia.

After Rosemary left, he went downstairs, placed the thick file in front of him and pondered for a while.

Alastor didn’t know what to say. He didn’t exactly know what he wanted to make you feel in order to pick the right amount of words. What a predicament.

He got himself into a complicated issue, a self-sufficient burden.

He knew that you at least understood the desire for justice that you have in common, although he could’ve been wrong.

That was until he finally read the file, in the second week of May.

Alastor was speechless, the descriptions of your injuries and the crimes against your freedom were too much for him, it took him two hours to read through the whole thing.

Each photo, description and testimony reminded him of his childhood. Images of his mother bandaging her own wounds flashed through his mind.

“I’m not better than him” he choked a sob that threatened to rip his sanity to shreds.

Then he got to the year you spent in the military. He was in awe, how you managed to pass the enrollment test, despite being deeply wounded. Every test after that was registered with the maximum grade affordable, in the men’s scale. Your greatest skills were hand-to-hand combat, reconnaissance, excellent physical endurance despite injuries. Quick handling of various firearms and non-lethal weapons. No wonder you could kill so many people in one night.

But wait, you did that before the training…how exactly did you do it then? he wondered.

After that intense reading, he sat outside your door after knocking twice. Words caught on his throat as he heard you say his name on the other side.

"I read the file" he rested his head against the wall, the coldness soothing his thoughts.

"And?" you asked, your hand on the knob, keeping him outside. After a long silence, your quiet scoff echoed in the hallway, "Now you're short of words, Alastor? After everything you had to say a couple weeks ago?" it stung, he did say the truth, but without knowing what you had to endure before that. Guilt was such an unusual feeling.

"I'm sorry" he lost all flair in his speech, there was no smile on his face, just a dead sounding truth. "You are?" Did you sound hopeful? Perhaps, there were a mere handful of times in which you were hurt and your aggressor took it upon himself to apologize. Although he was not one, he did offend you.

"Yes" he answered, fidgeting with his bowtie.

He fell silent, as you sat against the door.

"My step-father beat up my mother when I was ten, then he raped her, many times" it was hard for you to decipher his voice, it carried many emotions. "Did you kill him?" you asked after a while, “I did more than that” he avenged her, how psychotic yet noble, like a knight. "Did he suffer?" he could recall just how many times he bashed his head against the floor, "Yes" he smiled.

Another deep silence passed.

"Can I trust you?” you asked, forehead pressed against the door. "You can" he was hopeful, whatever for? no idea.

"Thank you" he heard you as he looked at the light from your room lit up the hallway, "For what?" he pushed himself up against the wall, then looked at your small body standing without a single bandage, just a fluffy robe. "You're welcome, my dearest" he spoke without knowing what were you thanking him for.

You pulled the door wider, "Will you brush my hair?" handing him the hair brush in the process. "My arms hurt" you pointed to the bandages discarded in a trash bin near the vanity, then walked inside the room.

You sat in front of the mirrorless vanity table. His mother’s vanity table, to which you set the mirror aside.

Alastor took the brush, taking into notice the blunt bruises in the wood and the scratches in the handle. Started softly to brush the ends and made his way up detangling against his hand as not to pull your hair.

"Is this alright?" you hummed a yes in response, feeling your hands tremble for each subtle accidental brush of his fingers against your head.

"I'm sorry" you murmured, ashamed for choosing violence against him. The guilt set in your gut even further because he was being so gentle and did it without seeking any kind of retribution. "I vowed to be by your side, remember?" he smiled, moving a couple of steps to your right side. "In this life, and the next" you recited as he did on your wedding day.

His touch accidentally brushed your cheek scar, afraid he jerked away his hand fast. As if you could hear his thoughts, you took his finger between your index and ring fingers and ran it along the scar.

"Smile more, one of them said, then with a razor he carved a grin on my cheek" you felt his finger tremble against your cheek, “He was banned from the club and I wasn’t touched for two days. In a way I really appreciate it” the thought made you laugh.

"I consider myself skillful with words, yet I don't know how I can make you feel better" Out of guilt or empathy? you didn’t know, but it didn’t add up. "You don't need to say anything, I've had my fill of pitiful words" you shrugged.

"Then, what can I do?" He brushed your hair away from your neck, freezing by seeing a number deeply burnt into the back of your neck. "I don't know" you knew what he was seeing, his ragged breath gave him away easily, and yet he continued brushing, not really loving how dry your hair was.

“Now that I remember, I brought you something, I'll be right back” he put the brush on the vanity, and trotted back to his room, bringing back a green bag with him.

“What is it?” When he placed it on your lap you fidgeted with the lace ribbon. He sat at the edge of the bed and excitedly spoke, “Open it”. By seeing his smile and the little glint in his eyes you could tell he was excited, so you just indulged him and opened the bag, setting the ribbon aside for keeping, and taking a black box out.

Upon opening the box you saw a lot of brown little figures, each one with different smells and shapes. You couldn’t help but feel a little bit confused, even more when he scoffed, clearly amused. “Don’t tell me you haven’t had chocolate before” he laughed, freezing upon seeing your confused gaze.

“I can’t remember” it was as if you sank in your seat, trying to remember the last sweet treat with your parents. Either way you took one, eyeing a few times his look of anticipation. The sweet milk chocolate was really nice and comforting, it was one of the first times he saw your eyes relax.

“Thank you” your robe slipped just a tiny bit, but just enough for Alastor to get a peak of a bite mark on your shoulder. Because of that sight, when you offered him a chocolate he had to refuse, his stomach was - in a caricaturesque way - tangling itself into a knot and killing itself.

He had seen all the injuries, they were part of the evidence gathered for your case. They were a revolting sight, and just thinking about how those scars were made to begin with made it even worse. And he was far too scared to ask.

“If you like it, I can buy you more” you shook your head, the next thing you did left him stone cold in place. You closed the blinds and took place in between his legs, then dropped the robe in its entirety. In front of him, you were wearing only a set of lace panties.

You figured, what the hell? You were decomposing, slowly dying, it didn’t matter any longer. “I'm guessing you saw the photos“ He had never swallowed as hard as that day, he wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. Everything on you was coarse and rough, asymmetrical, deformed and ripped apart.

He moved his hand forward, leaning towards the curve of your hip. As he suspected, most of your natural hairs were either burnt or irregularly shaven, your skin was also dry and unwelcoming. Every muscle under his palm twitched and spasmed, as if trying to run away.

He made his way up to the base of your breast, one slightly bigger than the other, with noticeable little scar bumps on the side, cigarette burns. You sighed impatiently, took both of his hands in yours to rapidly putting them over your breasts and then on your scars, “It’s just skin, you look at me as if you’ve never seen a woman’s body before” you were irritated, his careful way to touch you and the pity in his eyes, everything was disgusting.

He looked up to you, wide eyed, a shaky smile on his lips, and he refused to make eye contact with you. “Oh, shit I’m sorry” you let go of his hands, but he refused to stop touching you unless you told him otherwise.

You were pulled by him, until you were sitting on his right thigh, “what are you up to?” his right hand, in an attempt to support your back, came across the long scars up the center of your back up to your shoulders.

“What are these?” when you moved your arm up his shoulder, to try and redirect his hand on your back, he saw the marks on the sides of your ribs, looking bruised and darkly red. “Y/n” your name on his lips was a vice. “It’s nothing”, you tried to move forward, taking one lock of his hair in between your fingers, twisting it around your index.

His eyes no longer held the glint you saw earlier, now you were facing the same insane look he gave you when he lectured you. He hummed and lowered his body so he could get closer to the red blood clotted scab that formed over the scratch.

“What are you-?” you gasped, he had licked a long stripe over your wound. Making just enough pressure so your blood started falling in little drops, which he cleaned, over and over again.

He hummed, moaned, slurped and licked over the abused skin, like you were a flesh ice cream. At the same time, you gripped his hair, gasped and whined as he bit the scab off, to get better access. “It hurts!” you gasped, holding his head closer to you.

“Tell me what they are, and I'll stop” he licked another long and strong stripe, swallowing both blood and sweat off your skin.

“I get nightmares, that helps me get through them” you whined, pulling him away by his hair, earning a hiss and a grunt from him. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?” he licked some of your blood off his lips, all while keeping eye contact with you. What the fucking hell? Where was the shy man you saw earlier? “Is none of your fucking business” you bite back.

“Au contraire, everything that concerns your well-being is my business” he tried to be cute by laying his head on your shoulder and look up with a smile, but you made a disgusted face instead.

“Very well” he was about to go down on your wound again, taking a blood drop with his finger to licked it. “No! Fine, I was embarrassed” you pulled his head up back to your shoulder, only hearing him chuckle. “Is that why you drank two quarters of a whiskey bottle?” He stretched down and grabbed the bottle from underneath the bed, keeping a smug grin on his face.

“How?” you grumbled, “I saw the butt of the bottle under your bed, and I can smell it in your breath” you covered your mouth in annoyance, making angry eyes at him. “Could you pass me the gauze there, sweetie?” he pointed to your vanity. He let go of you just so you could hand him the roll of gauze and a cleaning rag. He made sure to clean all his saliva off the wound and wrap it up in gauze.

“You have blood on your mustache” he took out his tongue and passed it over his upper lip. “Ugh” you groaned, taking the rag off his hand to clean his face properly. “Do I disgust you?” he chuckled, “Of all things, why people?” you had that question in since you found out, “Well, tastes better than cow” he joked, earning just a disgusted look.

“But you don’t know where people have been, or what they have done with their bodies” you made it sound as if people were doorknobs or stray dogs, so he couldn’t hold a heartily laugh, one he hadn’t had in a long time. “I adore you, how about I help you dress up and get you all tucked in, my dear?” He put a strand of your hair behind your ear gently, not failing to notice how you leaned into his hand.

Without much resistance you allowed him to help slip the soft sleepwear. He gently, and on purpose took his sweet time to enjoy having you close, and your warmth. Until you were all dressed and he opened the covers for you, he had a nostalgic feeling creeping up the parts of his body you touched. He felt cold again.

“Can you stay?” he heard you mumble, but wasn’t sure he heard you right, “What was that?” he tried to get closer as he tucked you in, but you buried yourself in the sheets and yelled at him, “Nothing! Nevermind”.

He smiled and uttered a soft, “Very well”. Then after a while he came back with a pillow from his room - since yours are too fluffy for his taste - and slipped under the covers on the other side.

That was the best night of sleep Alastor ever had, not only because unconsciously you hugged him close, but because he didn’t have his recurrent dreams. And neither did you.

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