#but that’s for my therapist to unravel
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I have periods every once in a while where I freak out and get sad thinking "oh no Reigen has treated Mob kind of shitty in the past :(". I think it is a byproduct of so much media having their characters be angels who never do something just genuinely shitty and the common "it's better to do nothing wrong than one thing right" mentality. And then I have to fight to get back to the mindset of "yeah he does have flaws. He did try to hold Mob back because of his own insecurities, lied about who he is, and had Mob order a smaller portion of ramen than himself. But then he realized that, owned up to it, and made the conscious effort to become the person he is now; the person who would put his life on the line for kids multiple times, the person who helps train for marathons, the person who encourages others to do the right thing, the person who takes friends on vacations, the person who gives people a second chance, the person who often buys his student’s favorite food to share with said student, the person who people can come to with issues they don’t feel comfortable going to anyone else with, the person who cares so much about the little boy who changed his life that he'll do anything to make that little boy love himself even if it means he has to stand back and watch him forge a new path that isn't as deeply interwoven with his own anymore.
But even before the Separate Ways arc, he was an asshole sometimes but not a bad person. He did good things for strangers and friends alike for no reason. He encouraged Mob to be an individual even though doing such directly contradicted why he originally hired Mob, he put his life on the line both with the Claw 7th Division and Mogami for Mob, on jobs he’d lie about what he was doing but still do his damn hardest to solve their problems, and encouraged the Claw lackeys to be better people, just for example. And that's why he is one of my favorite characters of all time. and why I can safely agree with Mob that he is genuinely a good guy."
What's more important; the fact that he was an asshole, or that he isn't one anymore?
#reigen arataka#mp100#mob psycho 100#fandom#thoughts#shigeo kageyama#as many things are it’s probably a side effect of ye old ocd#but that’s for my therapist to unravel
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Four biggest interests lately have been about crime. and the last one is about war
#DIE DIE DIE#I LOVE DEATG#KILLL#MURDER#KILL#REVENFE#KILL KILL DEATH DIE MURDER#NYAAHAHAHAHHAHAH#IF NOT A SINGLE MURDER TO INVESTIGATE AND UNRAVEL#THEN A HUNDRED THOUSAND TO MOURN AND AVENGE#KILL MURDER WHAHAHAHAHHA#DEATH MURDER DIE DEATH DEATH#DIE EXPLODE GET STABBED GET STRANGLED OR MANGLED GET MURDERED GET SHOT GET IMMOLATED#So update about my mental health:#Not doing too hot#I'll see my therapist tomorrow#After that I'm watching a movie with my siblings#And I'm going to a convention on Saturday#So I'm hoping this week will be nice#Or just slightly better than the depressive episode I've had for the last two weeks#Ac unit
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I think I’ve become a little too good at holding it together.
I don’t know how to fall apart effectively anymore.
These are the truest things I’ve said in days. Or is it months?
I don’t want to be inefficient. I don’t want to waste time or effort in making myself heard anymore.
There’s no time no time no time.
I want to do. I want to break into shards in the carpet. I want someone to pick up my pieces and ask them why.
I want to squeeze my palms until I��m whole and my smile no longer says I’m fine
I don’t want to be touched, I want to be disemboweled by the feeling of participating in something small and loved and instinctual and grander than the whole of the cosmos
I want to be cast adrift on a tether made of the same stuff nostalgia and coming home are made of
I don’t want to be touched. I don’t want to participate.
These are the truest things I’ve said in days, and I will deny them all because I am a ghost.
#shakes writes#he’s rambling now#unravelling#contradictions within my psyche#or as my therapist called it#cptsd
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am i becoming the person i want to become? am i always going to be losing parts of myself in the process
#girlsuffering girlanguishing girlgrieving#i am slowly slowly becoming but am i unraveling at the seams am i doing anything at all#sometimes i feel deeply unhappy . underneath it all . am i changing or is everything just cyclic. it hurts and hurts and then heals and then#i dyed my hair and am asserting my agency against toxic people in my life but im also like . idk . routinized and staring into the void#have my first full therapy appointment w my new therapist next week lol lmaooo so ! hopefully . that helps a bit idk#personal
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blessing and curse
summary: yuuji is a wonderful boyfriend...you just wish he was able to fuck you... warnings: post shibuya, aged up duh, yuuji struggles with ptsd, night terrors, as well as anxiety, you both see therapists, oral (fem receiving), penetrative sex, fem!reader, pet names, (pretty girl, baby, cutie, etc), rough sex. wc: 3k a/n: this is my first yuuji piece nom nom nom i'm actually obsessed and soaking wet tbh i'm thinking thoughts for yuuji.........anyway to my lovely requester i hope you enjoy this <;3 jjk masterlist here
yuuji feels things very intensely. it’s a blessing and a curse, though the latter is more often experienced than the former. guilt, loss, regret–all things that nearly swallowed him whole while he fought for his friends and the people of japan–for the whole world. it’s so hard to be him, to live with what he carries on his shoulders–on his soul. he’s unloveable. he’s the one who caused all of the pain—things would have been easier if he died. there’s a number of people whose lives ended because of and for him. he was only just adjacent to a murderer. months after the fighting ceased and the war was won, he would wake up numerous times through the night with night terrors. he couldn’t even call them nightmares because they weren’t fabrications of his imagination. they were all too real memories that kept making their rounds–reminding him that he would be forever burdened with a layer of hell no one else could claim to know about.
he met you in the waiting room of his therapist’s office. he remembers seeing you and wondering what you could be talking to his specialist about. it meant you also had to be a sorcerer—clearly he couldn’t see a normal one about his specific traumas and baggage, and apparently neither could you. he remembers not even knowing you and his heart still hurting for the pretty young girl that must be hurting like him. he remembers hoping that you hadn’t been through anything like what he had—the anxious voice in the back of his mind wondering if somehow he caused your pain via sukuna’s rampages or the destruction and death that followed him. he remembers you meeting his eyes on a seemingly unremarkable thursday afternoon, catching him in the middle of one of his staring way too long episodes. you narrowed your eyes and tilted your head at him in amusement.
the rest was easy. you were easy to talk to, to admire, to hold, to love. you made him feel intense things in a good way–in a way he had nearly given up on. his world had slowly become a mixed palette of blacks and whites and muted grays–but your smile brought color back. your touch made vivid purples and yellows; your laughter the brightest of pinks and the most warm oranges. you became the blessing where he was the curse, the savior of a damned man bound to paint on smiles and pretend that sacrificing his soul and everyone he’s ever loved was worth it. now he felt unimaginable comfort and love by getting to know you. his smiles weren’t so fake anymore—and the only things that woke him in the night was losing you. truly the only fear that yuuji itadori has left: cursing his blessing.
you thought he was the best boyfriend around and an even better man. you’ve slowly but surely unraveled the reason he was visiting the therapist through his eventual opening up to you and telling you just a fraction of what he’s experienced in his life and you can understand his intimacy issues. see…yuuji is easy to love. he’s wonderful, attentive, sweet, careful, strong and chivalrous. but he won’t fuck you. you’re too nervous to push him any further—all too aware of his fears of letting anyone in, of loving and showing that in ways that make you vulnerable. he’s all too conscious of what it would mean—of the danger he would be putting you in.
there’s been many times here lately that you’ve thought that line will finally be crossed—heavy petting and make-outs that get you squirming in his lap and soaking through your panties. it always goes this way, no matter how innocent the two of you try to keep your dates. move night, game night, even cooking together ends up with yuuji’s tongue down your throat and his hands under your shirt. tonight is no different, some youtube video plays in the background—a forgotten video game walkthrough that yuuji had been paying careful attention to until you leaned in to rip it away with those teasing kisses to his jaw. you know exactly what buttons to press after four months of nothing past second base driving you to a point of restlessness.
you just wanted him to see your perseverance. you would do this for as long as it takes, anything to prove that you’re here to stay. you want to make him comfortable enough to tear those walls down—the ones that make his eyes flutter shut and his hands fist at his pants in order to keep them to himself. his eyes close to will himself to concentrate on something–anything—other than the feeling of your warm lips tracing his pulse, smooth fingers sliding under his shirt to outline the dips and muscles of his torso. it’s not that he doesn’t want to this, he craves you like nothing ever before. your touch is the medicine bringing him back to life, but he can’t allow himself to ruin you—taint you. but as you move into his lap and change your kisses to more intense nips and sucks at his skin, his body betrays his mind. he can feel the blood rush to his cock as your thighs trap him beneath you, and he moans out at the same time you do. the pressure of your clothed cunt sitting against his needy dick has his hands moving before he can tell himself to stop. he grabs your waist, accidentally and automatically rutting up against the friction you offer with a hiss.
“fuck, cutie.” he groans, your lips covering his parted and pouty ones to keep him from protesting further. his fingers only dig into your side as the two sides of his mind argue with each other. he wants you badly, your body slotted against his perfectly and the way you kiss him like you’re trying to touch his soul drives him crazy. anyone with a girlfriend as hot as you would be a fucking idiot to keep denying himself of her. his hands knead the warm flesh of your body as an instinct, his body knowingly responding to your advances. his tongue slides over yours in a frenzy, his head becoming fuzzy as saliva trails down his chin—something in him telling him to stop when his hands slide upwards to palm your chest. you cry out at the feeling—so starved for his affection that you know you’re soaking wet already. just his rough hands scraping over your sensitive nipples sends you into rutting rhythmic circles of your hips over the tent in his pants, breaking your sloppy kiss in order to remove your shirt fully in a silent show of what you wanted to happen next.
“aw baby—you know i can’t,” he whines, his lips swollen and even pinker than usual. he drops his hold to your hips, making comforting circles over the bone beneath his grasp. your face drops to instant heartbreak and he can feel his own heart try to rip itself apart for making you so sad. he never thought about how this must affect you, a woman with needs and desires for her boyfriend. he knows this can’t last much longer or he’ll lose you anyway. the room is just a mixture of your heavy breathing and the monotone droning of the tv for a few moments, and then you whine in retaliation, picking up his hand and moving it back to your breast. you search his eyes, seeing the fear flickering in those brown embers of his. you just need to show him there’s nothing to be scared of, that you need him worse than you need the oxygen in this room and would do anything for him today and forever.
“yuuji,” you gasp out in such a voice that he knows he won’t be able to hold back this time. four months of seeing your body in your cute date outfits and in his shirt after you’ve spent the night; the feeling of your curves under his fingers as he guides you to the safe side of the sidewalk or the swell of your hip as he guides you through the door he’s just opened—four months of draining his balls after he’s sent you home with nothing more than a few wet kisses and tit-squeezes. the way your eyes shine like you’re about to cry if he denies you one last time…it’s too much. “please—i need you,” you breathe out, reaching those gorgeously soft hands out to sweep against his cheeks, to plead with him to be a good boyfriend. he can’t make you suffer any longer—”i need you so bad yuuji, please don’t push me away…i’m your forever girl!”
oh fuck. he might cum in his pants from hearing that alone. suddenly, silence falls upon his mind. he can only hear the echoes of your cries for him–no more voices in his head arguing about the best way to continue, only you. a guttural groan rips from his throat and he stands with your legs wrapped around his body, a broad hand snaking up your back to keep you pressed against him. you squeal a little at the sudden shift and the deep growl that he let out, his face now devoid of that playful man you’ve come to love. he looks so focused, so serious, his brow furrowed as he looks over your face.
“i’m sorry i made you wait so long, pretty girl.” he nods, letting your body bounce on the bed as he’s set on immediately removing the remainder of your clothes. he pulls you to the edge, legs dangling over the sides. you almost think it must be too good to be true, sitting up on your elbows to catch a glimpse of that ravenous fire consuming his previously kind eyes. he’s leaned back to peel his own clothes off, but his eyes never leave your body. he looks over your lip pinched between your teeth to your pebbled nipples to the glistening slick coating your inner thighs. he doesn’t even know where to start, but he’s going to ensure that you’re finally taken care of. “i’m a dumbass—thought i was keeping you safer like that.” he mutters, leaning over to kiss the space between your ribcage. he makes his way to your jaw, licking a hungry stripe between your breasts and claiming your neck with bruising nips at the delicate flesh that greeted him.
you’re set to mewling immediately, the flip switched in your boyfriend making you rub your legs together in anticipation. he chuckles and you can feel him smile against your skin as his hand snakes down to keep you from squirming. he quickly pecks your lips. “m gonna make it up to you now, baby girl.” his eyes are wide, but glazed over with affection. you nod, feeling his strong fingers dig into the supple flesh of your thigh to keep you from closing them, his abs raking over your sensitive clit as he lowers himself to his knees at the foot of the bed. your face burns as you realize what he’s going to do, but he doesn’t give you time to think about it before turning your mind to mush from the feeling of his fat tongue splitting your lips apart and breaching your tiny hole. he seems pleased by the way you react—back arching off the bed and hands gripping at the sheets from the surprising burn. it’s a good burn, the kind you’ve been craving for the months you’ve been with a man who loves you like he does, your wanton moans just cementing that his choice was the right one. he’s growing addicted to this already; your flavor on his tongue, your moans echoing in his ears and your thighs pressing in to the sides of his face. he feels your silky walls clamp down on his tongue, making his eyes roll back at the thought of putting his dick in something so tight. he slurps at the arousal slipping out, sliding his tongue to the hardened bud waiting at the top of your cunt. he wraps his tongue around your clit, making you jolt at the sudden increase in sensation. it’s amazing—goosebumps prickle out over your skin and you reach down to tug at the silky pink locks woven between your fingers. you can feel every nerve running through your body and how it builds with a fiery pleasure that you know only yuuji can give you. “oh my god—yuuji!” you cry out as that pleasure mounts to a tipping point. his teeth scrape against your hood to encourage you to fall over that line so he can see what he’s been denying you of for four achingly long months.
you make the sweetest face when you cum, it has him closing a fist around his own dick to calm himself—the promise of having your pussy making him jerk at his own touch. you even sound so pretty as you shatter, legs jerking and your grip on his hair yanking almost painfully hard. it only makes yuuji smile wider, feeling a bubbly sense of satisfaction ripple in his own gut from making you feel so good.
“nngh, yuuji–” you whine, your vision returning to normal after a few seconds of respite. he’s already pushing you back to the pillows, manhandling you into the bent position he wanted. you’re on your back, knees by your ears and a boyfriend giving you no time to be anxious about the angry and leaky horsecock sliding through your folds. you thought he was a sweet man, and maybe he still is–but his own excitement to have you has him forgetting his normal chivalrous behavior. “fuck–yuuji!” you claw at his biceps, fighting against that true splitting burn. his tongue was nothing compared to the girth he pierces you with—and he’s smiling so tenderly at your wiggling and struggling.
“s’okay, cutie. you can take it, you’re already taking it!! didn’t you ask me to?” he raises a brow, face flashing with mock-confusion as your hands shove at his chest, all in an effort to get used to the feeling of him inside you. his thumb brushes your cheek, his other hand keeping the back of your thigh shoved back. “nyeh—you begged me! come on pretty girl–you gotta loosen up!” he laughs airily, moving the hand from your face back down to pinch and roll your aching clit. you jump at first, the touch sending another jolt of pleasure circulating to your brain–and then you relax enough for him to move. he’s got you folded in such a way that you can hardly breathe–or maybe that’s from how he slams into you recklessly, tip catching on your poor, innocent, cervix each time. it hurts, it burns everywhere—but it’s the best feeling in the world. his breathing grows ragged once he settled into a pace, brutally slamming into you in a way that led you to believe he wasn’t doing this on accident.
soon, your hands around his biceps slip to your sides, eyes lulling into a pleasure-induced haze. you watch him, the twitch of his nose and the way his hair gets curly once it sticks to his forehead from his sweat. he’s perfect, and he’s finally giving you all of himself, really devoting himself to you, conquering any fear. you don’t mind if you’ll be bedridden for the next week—feeling his heavy cock in your chest from how hard he ruts into you—it would be well worth it to hear his grunts and whimpers of satisfaction, to feel the bruising grip he has on your body like he’s afraid you might disappear. it’s all so good, and exactly like you craved. “there she goes—takin’ it like a champ now!” he cheers you on, panting a little as he leans over your body and grabs the headboard, deepening his angle as if he wasn’t already fucking you brainless.
the new angle makes your jaw drop in absolute earth-shattering bliss. you two could be the only people left on earth and you would never know—to consumed in yuuji itadori to notice anything else. you’re back to pawing at his chest, the coil in your gut building rapidly as he fucks into you like his life depends on it. you wanted everything, he’ll make sure he gives you everything. the headboard creaks, the bed moans with you and you truly do worry he might break it for a split second–but his broken moan of your name swallows up any wandering thoughts. a bead of sweat slides down the slope of his nose before it drops onto your cheek, the evidence of his hardwork. he moans your name again, warning you that the end was approaching. you nod as he moves your legs to his shoulders, leaning as close as possible to wrap you in his arms and kiss you in short, desperate bursts. he treasures you more than he thought possible, that look you give him right before your eyes roll back into your head from your orgasm makes his own dick jump within your vice-grip of a cunt. you make that sweet face again, a face he knows he’s hooked on—your pussy spasming around him to welcome his fat load gets him to make his own kind of special and beautiful face, lip between his teeth and adam’s apple bobbing at the same pace his balls slap into your backside. you swear you can feel his heart beating, his lungs filling and emptying as he flattens his chest to yours and fills your guts with his loving cum. he keeps thrusting even after he’s done, just watching your face contort and shift, your body bouncing in his arms. he likes the ache of overstimluation, and loves the way you mewl and hug him, eyes all sleepy and far away.
“that’s it, you did it, so so good.” he praises in a soft tone, kissing your lips and then your nose and then your forehead with equal adoration. “can’t believe i kept us from feeling like that!” he shakes his head, kissing your cheeks to continue showering you in his love if not to keep you awake. he sits back up and slides out of you, quickly snatching his t-shirt up to catch the spillage. it’s hot, watching his seed trickle from your abused pussy—he whines a little at the sight, puppy dog eyes flickering over your body as if to wonder if you could take another round…
now that you’ve gotten him to start, you may never get him to stop.
#kyleewritesjjk#jjk x reader#yuuji x reader#itadori yuuji#yuji itadori x reader#yuji itadori#yuji x reader#yuuji smut#itadori x reader#jjk yuji x reader#yuuji x fem!reader
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I found I enjoy the Stiles is best friends with Laura Hale dynamic. Do you have any recommendations?
Hi anon! @kevaaronday made this list for you.
Burn with hellfire in the blue light of midnight by babisays (20/20 | 203,189 | Teen | Sterek) Stiles met the Hale siblings when he was eleven years old. Now it has been six years since he lost his best friend Cora in the fire, and Derek and Laura left Beacon Hills.
Six years was a long time, so he didn't think he would ever see them again, but now he was wondering what the hell was Derek Hale doing back in Beacon Hills.
How We Serve by GrimReaperlover11 (16/16 | 53,280 | Not Rated | Sterek) Stiles is selected to become the servant to Prince Derek Hale.. however his new master gives off total 'Ima rip your throat out, with my teeth' vibes...maybe its a werewolf thing. Nonetheless Stiles hopes he can survive his new life
Sacrifice (Whatever It Takes) by adara, Swlffangirl (7/7 | 38,519 | Teen | Sterek) In which Laura lives, the Hale Pack grows, and Derek finds a peace that he'd never thought could be his. It doesn't come easy, because when does anything ever, but they've got a real shot at it for the first time since before the fire that stole their family and sent their whole lives up in smoke.
My Sister’s Boyfriend by Niecy8 (14/14 | 36,297 | Mature | Sterek) Derek loves his sister very much and is looking forward to seeing her since they haven't seen each other in a while. However, he's not thrilled that she is bringing home her new boyfriend - someone they know zero about. He will be nice but what he didn't expect was how attractive he would be.
Stiles will do anything for Laura. She's his best friend and like an older sister to him. However, this has to be the worst idea she has ever had - pretending to date one another? No one will believe it and it becomes increasingly harder to play the part when he meets her gorgeous brother.
Or two idiots slowly falling in love with each other with Laura playing a hand in it.
The Ghost of You (It Keeps Me Awake) by StaceyMarie123 (1/1 | 21,477 | Teen | Sterek) She took each step slowly, as if approaching a frightened animal that might spook any second.
“You can see me?” she asked, and her voice was higher pitched that he’d expected. It was a complete and utter marvel that Stiles hadn’t keeled over from shock yet.
He nodded and her face broke into a huge grin.
She had bunny teeth, just like her brother.
…
Or: the one where Stiles accidentally develops the power to see and communicate with ghosts, and there seems to be someone haunting their favourite grumpy alpha.
Samhain by nightlight9 (1/1 | 20,135 | Teen | Sterek) The ghost of Talia Hale has been showing up in Stiles’ bedroom on the night of Halloween for years. Normally their conversations are pretty normal. But when she shows up screaming about how her daughter is going to be killed, Stiles knows that he’ll do anything to prevent that from happening.
Platonic Absolutes by sparkandwolf (1/1 | 7,362 | Gen | Sterek) When Stiles first met Laura, there was no doubt in his mind that their soul bond wasn’t meant to be anything but platonic. He had heard of that happening, that the marks on a person’s body could mean they had a soulmate by any meaning of the word, and was momentarily disappointed that his meant a lifetime best friend.
Then he realized that Laura was the most incredible woman he had ever met. If it wasn’t for the fact she was very, very, gay, he would’ve fallen in love with her the moment she barged into his life.
A Death Omen Too Strong to Stomp Out by one-fandom-became-all-fandoms (1/1 | 6,668 | Mature | Sterek) The dream had haunted him for nearly a year since moving to New York. With no friends but his therapist to confide in, Stiles raced to figure out what the wintry orchard had to do with saving a life. Accompanied by a mysterious stranger, Derek, Stiles may unravel his psyche before it's too late.
love and soulmates by EvanesDust (1/1 | 1,747 | Teen | Sterek) Derek watched as Stiles looped an arm around Laura’s waist and laid his head on her shoulder.
“Aw, Laur, don’t be like that. You know we’re soulmates…”
Soulmates? And just like that, Derek’s heart broke. Laura brought home Stiles--perfect and delectable and entirely Derek’s type. Fuck his life because, of course, Stiles would be in love with Laura.
AND
@littlekittio reminded me of this fantastic fic.
Fireman Derek's Crazy Pie [Cheeseburger Baby] by owlpostagain
(1/1 I 17,698 I Teen)
“He can't blame me for the fact that I live in a building full of people united in the singular effort to ogle Hot Fireman as often as humanly possible."
Laura laughs, loud and echoing in the empty restaurant.
"Hot firemen can make a girl do crazy things," she agrees, nodding towards her brother's name on the menu. "Derek won't let me date anyone from his company, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate the eye candy."
"Send them my way," Stiles suggests, finally loading up a forkful of pie. "Apparently I'm incompetent enough that I need to be babysat at all times, because it would be cheaper than dispatching a truck every time I try to use a kitchen appliance."
AND AND
@idoobeg suggested these!
The Cool Kids by thankyouforexisting
(1/1 I 14,375 I Teen I Sterek)
Laura was four when her parents brought home a baby. [...] The next day, she grabbed a basket and put her brother in it. The four month old baby blinked sleepily at her, and she grinned, “Hey, brother. This is for my own good,” she’d heard something like that yesterday at the movies, and it sounded cool. She carried the basket into the Preserve, taking care not to wake her sleeping parents, and walked for a while before setting it gently on the ground. “Animals of the forests!” she cried, “This is my offering to you! Take this baby in exchange for my family’s safety!” // Laura has tried to abandon her siblings 13 times (each), has convinced Scott that life isn't real in 8 occasions, and she's made her parents wish they'd stayed childless about 1000 times, but not really. A story in which little Laura grows up, and learns.
I Hate You a Little, a Lot, Passionately, Not at All by YouRunWithTheWolves
(6/6 I 26,083 I Explicit I Sterek)
Laura has a brother. He's a dick. So Laura gets herself a best friend.
He's also a dick.
or, Laura finds a new roommate to replace Isaac and Derek is ecstatic.
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NPD Resources Masterlist
[BPD]
The official resources masterlist for NPD. Includes all the links I've shared in the past and stuff I haven't.
Any posts I've linked about supporting those with NPD have been put in the misc section because I do not want to take away from what this post is really about, which is helping people with NPD, not the people around them.
Diagnostic criteria
NPD diagnostic criteria, rewritten by someone who has it
Official diagnostic criteria
An explanation of the diagnostic criteria
Recovery resources FOR the narcissist
NPD recovery resources
How to find therapy for NPD, common types of therapy and signs of an abusive/toxic therapist
Narcissist supply
What is narc supply?
Things that can give a narcissist supply
NPD stigma
The perception of NPD symptoms vs. how a narcissist might actually experience them
Why those with NPD have a hard time seeking help (spoiler alert: it's not because they're unaware)
A plea from someone with NPD (and some resources debunking common misconceptions)
Narcissism is not abusive / abuse is abusive
Debunking common myths on NPD
Common disproven myths about NPD
Miscellaneous
How to support someone with NPD
NPD Carrd (What is NPD, dpt skills and self-help)
Unravelling the connection: npd as a trauma response
NPD terminology (do's and dont's)
NPD safe blogs
@empath-abuse-awareness
@enigma-in-reality
@loverofmirage
@the-npd-culture-is
@nicepersondisorder
@theegosystem
@mischiefmanifold
NPD positivity so you don't have to go looking
Reblog to kiss a narcissist on the forehead
Reblog to tell your local narcissist that they're the best ever
Happy NPD appreciation day
Positivity for systems with NPD
Be normal about narcissists unless it's to give them love
NPD should be EPD (Epic Personality Disorder)
Of course I have a praise kink, I have NPD
Narcissists are so beautiful and handsome and wonderful
Positivity for narcissists who like sex
I love my narcissists
Aromantic narcissists are amazing
Narcissists I love you
Easy ways to spot a narcissist (it's not what you think <;3)
Narcissists deserve to be loved
As usual, if something needs to be deleted because it's wrong/comes from a toxic author/etc. please let me know. I tried to look on Google but all I found was ableist shit, so these are all found by your fellow narcissists on tumblr :)
Edit: If you have any resources, please send them to me through an ask or DM and i'll check it out/add it!
#npd#npd safe#cluster b safe#actually narcissistic#narcissistic personality disorder#narcissism#npd positivity#npd stigma#npd resources#npd things
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hashira find out that you self harm
Author’s Note: as always, pls heed CW (content warnings). These were not written purely for comfort, but also w/ ~realistic reactions in mind, so while they def lean toward comfort, there’s a certain lvl of inherent discomfort and pain in them as well. 🖤
hashira find out that you self harm
Hashira x Reader
Word Count: ~1,900
CW: depression, explicit language, implied self harm, traumatic references
Emergency Request Fulfilled: Can I request kny x reader, (sanemi, michikatsu, genya, giyu, & rengoku)
of an s/o who sh & feels very s*icidal
tough times yk?
Emergency Request Fulfilled: A request, idk if this is gonna seem insensitive, but could you write the hashiras reactions if they found out the reader sh? I have been struggling with these things lately and would like to see something like that, but if you feel uncomfortable with it then you don't have to do this.
Emergency Request Fulfilled: I ended up breaking my streak of not sh-ing last night and I feel awful again. I was wondering if you could do a rengoku x Reader with that kind of subject material as a sort of pick me up. Sorry for bothering you like this it’s just I feel not so good rn and you’re someone who provides me comfort with your writing
kamaboko find out that you self harm
~faqs~
When they find out that you self harm…
… Gyomei doesn’t know what to say. His immediate reaction is to feel incredibly protective, but his gut tells him overreacting could push you even further away. “Oh.” A single word exhaled quietly from his mouth, and you feel yourself unraveling. “I-” Quickly, he collects himself. “Don’t apologize to me,” he asserts gently, “Thank you for telling me.” “You aren’t mad?” you ask shakily. “I’m confused,” he answers softly, “I want to protect you, but I’m unfamiliar with protecting someone from themselves.” Your heart twinges at his admittance as his arms wrap steadily around you, his palms pressed clammy and flat against your back, his embrace soothing even as his frown deepens.
… Obanai is furious. With himself, of course. A silent, dreadful anger that sticks to his spine, no matter how much he twists, turns, and talks with himself. He throws himself into research, a whirlwind of educating himself as best and as quickly as possible, all the while maintaining a light hearted, gentle facade whenever you’re beside him. “Are you okay?” you’ll ask sometimes, his sporadic urgency noticeable, “Something bothering you?” And he knows confessing his frustration won’t solve anything; guilting you or making you regret sharing yourself with him is the last thing he wants. So he shrugs, shooting you a lazy, intimate smile, suddenly grateful for how he can make his eyes twinkle above his mask, truthful grimace covered, “Just missing you.” “But I’m right here!” you exclaim, nudging him happily. “I know,” he mutters softly I know.
… Mitsuri cries. She doesn’t mean to. She doesn’t mean to make you comfort her. She doesn’t mean to make you apologize over and over until you’re both bawling, clinging to each other as though squeezing tightly enough might make your truth dissipate. But she does. She cries in your arms as you cry in hers, disbelief and sorrow rippling through her body. “I-I’m s-sorry,” you repeat, voice strained, unable to catch your breath as you gasp between sobs. “M-me t-too,” she whimpers lowly Me too. She’ll put herself back together later, determination to love you as hard and as fiercely as ever gradually overcoming her initial shock and dismay, even as part of her heart remains forever changed — forever afraid of losing you… to yourself.
… Shinobu struggles to maintain a boundary between being your partner and being your therapist. She’s not professionally trained in psychiatry, but she’s obviously knowledgeable when it comes to physical healing, sooo why not mental healing? That’s not how it works she often has to silently remind herself, seconds away from responding to your spiraling as though you’re in a therapy session together. Deep down, she knows all she can do is be there for you as she is. Not as she wishes she could be. Not as she feels she should be. But as she is. Am I enough? she wonders as she listens to your labored breathing, feeling you twitch beside her in your sleep I sure hope so she sighs, pressing light fingers to your overheated cheek, smiling faintly as your breaths gradually slow I really hope so.
… Kyojuro is distraught, but does his best to conceal it. For your sake. His sake. He isn’t really sure, actually. All he knows is he’s watching you fall to pieces in slow motion, and somehow, he still isn’t quite fast enough to catch all of you. Some days are easier than others. Those other days? He can barely bring himself to touch you.
“Kyo,” you sigh, fixing an even stare on his unnervingly neutral gaze, sorely missing his usual eagerness, “What’s going on?”
He promptly brightens, stepping forward to press a light kiss on your forehead, “Nothing is going on.”
Then why won’t you comfort me?
Wordlessly, you slip your arms around his waist, relieved when he accepts your embrace, confused that, “Then why don’t you hold me anymore?”
He frowns at that, head tilting, “I am holding you right now.”
With a snort, you mutter quietly, “No, Kyo, I’m holding you. It’s like you suddenly need my permission to-” interrupting yourself as realization hits, “Kyo.”
He blinks, feeling thoroughly ~caught, yet unsure what act you’ve caught him in.
“Yes, my love?”
“You don’t have to be scared of me!” you exclaim, bittersweet laughter rumbling in your chest, “I know I…” trailing off awkwardly, “I know I’m not okay, and I know you worry, but keeping yourself from me doesn’t help, solve, or ease, well, anything!”
“Are you certain?” he murmurs, dreadful despair leaking into his gut again, “I… do not know how to navigate this.”
Squeezing his hips, you glare fondly at him, “I know I’m not okay, and I know it pains you to hear me say that. I also know it pains both of us when you distance yourself. You don’t have to let me go. You aren’t the problem.”
But he nearly exclaims But I can’t save you!
“I don’t need saving,” you whisper instead, reading his perceived failure in the tremor of his fingers tracing up and down your spine, “I just want you to love me.”
I do he swallows thickly I love you so much.
… Sanemi leaves midway through your quiet, shaky explanation, fingernails nearly breaking the skin of his palms, mouth a thin line, lavender eyes too narrowed to discern the pain pulsing through his glare. You listen to the front door open, expecting a resounding bam, mystified when a nearly silent push of air signals his departure. Shit. You know then that he isn’t pissed. At least, he isn’t pissed at you. Which, really, would be easier to handle than the slow dripping tears glistening on his cheeks, clinging to his eyelashes; would be easier to handle than reading the single text he sends you I love you, don’t wait up; would be easier to handle than waking to the feel of him tracing hearts across your skin, bed warmer with his body, mattress dipping you toward him. “I’m sorry I left,” he whispers, somehow knowing you’re awake before you’ve even fully processed consciousness yourself, “I won’t do it again.” You mumble something incoherent in response, catching his hand with yours, pressing a sleepy kiss to his knuckles. “Fuck,” he hisses sharply, sob lodged in his throat, “You’re everything to me,” lifting your knuckles to his lips, returning your gesture Everything.
… Muichiro doesn’t understand why, but he does notice its consequences. He notices the tiredness glinting in your eyes, even though you’ve just woken up. He notices the slowness in your movements, even as you’re expressing excitement. He notices the harshness of your voice when you’re having a particularly difficult day, though he doesn’t understand why it’s particularly difficult. He voices his disconnect, curled up beside you on the couch, hands wrapped coolly around yours, apologetic and upfront. “I can tell when you’re in pain,” he says gently, “But I don’t understand the desire to then create more pain.” Shaking his head as you open your mouth to explain, he smiles softly, “I know it hurts to try and help me understand, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself,��� brow furrowing as he sighs quietly, “That’s just it, I guess. I don’t want you to hurt yourself. I don’t understand.” You know he means well, you know he isn’t upset, but it doesn’t get easier listening to him navigate your pain. “I love you,” you offer, leaning over to peck his cheek. He sighs again, soaking in your warmth, unable to identify the tight numbness in his chest, “And I love you.”
… Giyuu nods, thoughts racing even as silence settles between your anxious stare and his unblinking expression.
“Giyuu?” you tentatively prompt him, “This… this wasn’t easy for… for me to tell you.”
Like an unpaused movie, he blinks into action, reaching for your waist even as he watches for the slightest hint of discomfort from you, ready to divert his movement if need be. You crumble into his touch, leaning heavy and exhausted against his chest, melting into the smooth reassurance of his hands splayed across your lower back.
“I know,” he murmurs lowly, eyes closed, “Thank you for trusting me,” resisting the urge to pull away, cup your face, and press his forehead firmly to yours, involuntary tears pricking the corners of his eyes, “Thank you for…” his voice fades, knowing he’d crumble en suite if he continued, desperate to remain steady for your wavering breaths.
“For what?” you choke out, “Giyuu.”
Thank you for staying he thinks somberly Thank you for loving me.
“Thank you for choosing me,” he finally whispers, “And thank you for letting me choose you.”
You laugh roughly, sound mangled in his shirt, “I’m a mess.”
He doesn’t deny your statement, instead pulling you closer, his heartbeat loud and promising, tears falling freely now. And that’s okay he wishes he could say Two messes are better than one he wishes he could quip How do I fix this? his fear stutters on repeat What do I do? underlying his tenderness, knowing all too well that he has only questions, and no way of answering them.
… Tengen takes it unexpectedly well. He listens patiently, nods at appropriate moments, and gently interjects with the occasional question, all the while kneading your thighs as you sit on his lap, watching you with a careful, encouraging warmth.
“You’re amazing,” he declares softly, “Not to belittle your pain, of course,” sadness simmering just below his faint smile, “But I want you to know that, after everything you’ve told me, my first thought is how incredible you are.”
You shrug, unsure how to accept his compliments, stripped bare as you glance downward, eyes closing.
“Hey,” he murmurs, familiar hand cupping your chin, “I know I can’t make you believe anything I say,” bittersweet sigh grazing your skin, “But I can at least share my own beliefs. I can at least share my own perception of you. I can love you.”
Your nose scrunches, eyes opening to meet his honest stare, swallowing your breath with a shudder.
“I’m here. Whatever you want to tell me, whatever I need to know,” voice thickening, “I’m not going anywhere. If you need me to be firm, I can be firm. If you need me to be quiet, I can bite my tongue. I’m your lover, your partner, and a resource.”
So let me fulfill all of those roles for you. Let me love you. Let me walk beside you. Let me taste your burdens as you’ve stomached mine.
“You don’t have to be responsible for me,” you chuckle weakly, attempting to ease the tension, “I don’t tell you things to make you carry them for me.”
“But I would,” he speaks steadily, “I know you wouldn’t ever ask me to,” maroon gaze dark, “But I would.”
He doesn’t mean to be overbearing, but he doesn’t know how else to convey the fragility in his heart; its overwhelming swell of aching and anger — the stark hopelessness of knowing he can only watch. Of knowing he can only listen. Of knowing he can only handle as much as you’re willing to give him.
#preferences#modern au#himejima gyomei#gyomei x reader#iguro obanai#obanai x reader#kanroji mitsuri#mitsuri x reader#kocho shinobu#shinobu x reader#rengoku kyojuro#kyojuro x reader#shinazugawa sanemi#sanemi x reader#tokito muichiro#muichiro x reader#tomioka giyuu#giyuu x reader#uzui tengen#tengen x reader
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nexus (m) part 5
focus: jungkook x reader, seokjin x reader, taehyung x reader | smut: seokjin x reader
summary: a notorious casino conglomerate took you in when you were young. you grew up alongside their sons; inseparable from the oldest, infatuated with the middle, and engaged to the youngest. after a shocking murder, a detective with a vendetta drags you into unraveling a web of dangerous lies that cause you to question who you trust, and who you love
characters: detective!jungkook, ex/bartender!yoongi, bestfriend!seokjin, ceo!namjoon, fiancee!taehyung, model/gangster!hoseok, therapist!jimin
genre: 18+ smut slow burn angst romance thriller mystery eventual yandere casino!au organizedcrime/mafia!au arrangedmarriage!au revenge!au
wordcount: 7.5k
warnings: proceed with caution. soft yandere vibes but nothing too explicit, angst, arguing, pool sex, unprotected sex, pet names (princess), arms dealing mentions, jin has some dom energy i guess, taehyung gives solid yandere vibes tbh, choking, strip tease, masturbation, LOADs of sexual tension, flirting, a sickening amount of making out, taehyung tries to kill you but not really, manipulation, firearms, discussions of mental instability (inaccurate), power dynamics, misogyny, feelings of betrayal, heartbreak, anxiety, fainting, taehyung is cold as ice ice baby, jungkook is angsty, jin is a sexy bitch, character death
taglist: @raynom @gimmythatjib00ty @yoshiure @greezenini @victoryscreech61 @tbzhubrecs @namjooningelsewhere @sugarcoffeemochi @jiminie-08 @jinssexytoe @kooookie @only4sana @pinkcherrybombs @taeslarityy @natalie-rdr @mageprincess7 @hopeonysus @bibbykins @sameifnn @shadowmoon21 @juliemae80-blog @gaeguuliii @dvalitaes @satorinnie @fournia @kassandravictoria @jazmine2904 @marslena @iloverubberduckiez-blog @manchuria @btseverafter7 @jamlessstars @doublebunnykoo @you-are-my-wind@toughbook@mini-euphoria-deactivated202302 @lvrseok @n4mina @imjinvolved @rp171198 @codeinebelle @itsallabouthedetails @btseverafter7 @just-me-and-myselfs @blonde-bummer @hcneybees @babycoffeefire @totallynoanalien @seokjinkismet @itslanaanditssad @rhyperia @sporadicfuryface @azazel-nyx @hani-neko-nee-chan (rest of tags on reblog)
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Your eyes fluttered open. A familiar feeling of unease sweeping over you as your mind calibrates. No longer were you dreaming of Jungkook’s strong arms around you. His fingers exploring the expanse of your skin.
His lips—his eyes, everywhere.
No.
He was a Jeon.
You couldn’t fall in love with a Jeon.
There was a shadow casting over you. At the edge of your vision, an ethereal silhouette standing in your doorway. Enveloped in a dark silk robe. His open collarbones striking in contrast.
Eyes sharp. Precise. Memorizing you.
“Morning” You rubbed your eyes. He said nothing.
“I said good morning, Taehyung”
“It’s 3 in the afternoon” His voice was ice.
“Well,” You sat up, running your fingers over the expanse of your soft blanket. “I hope you haven’t been waiting for me”
Taehyung scoffed slightly.
“I know better than to waste my time waiting for you”
A knife twisted deep in your heart. His words were so bitter. Tone nonchalant. Running his fingers through his jet-black hair. Taking a better look, you could see the ends of his hair were damp. Beads of water on his neck.
He went to your bedside, pouring a glass of water. His arms—those subtle veins—flexing as he did. He looked up at you. His expression shifted. Glossing with rage.
The glass shattered in his hand.
“Shit” You got up, pulling him away from the shards. Brushing fragments off of his robe “Fuck Tae—”
“I see the hickeys all over your chest.” Your eyes widened.
“Excuse me?”
He reached out shamelessly, fingers tracing along your collarbone. A subtle trail of his blood. Dipping into the sweetheart of your neck. His fingers slid up to your throat, pushing your chin up with his thumb.
“Taehyung—��
His grip tightened. Every single one of his fingers wrapped around you like a vice. You could feel the hate in his touch. The resentment on his skin.
“It would be so easy to send you exactly where you belong.” The edge of his lip quirked. “In hell, with my bastard brother. You two deserve each other”
His dark eyes possessed you. You became hauntingly aware that he could probably just kill you. That 10 years of resentment and isolation would brew all kinds of complicated problems.
He released you. You gasped for air, collapsing over yourself as his menacing eyes remained steady.
“What do you want, huh?” You folded your arms over your chest, “I apologized. I begged for forgiveness. The least you can do is tell me what I’m apologizing for.”
Taehyung was younger than you. But watching the expression around his eyes you could tell he’d been through a lot. He was dark—tortured, hurting inside and all you wanted was to take it all away.
“What the hell did they do to you?” You sat back down on the edge of your bed. Taehyung towered over you. Tongue rolling against his cheek.
“Detective Jeon’s father” Taehyung started, “Killed your mother.”
Oh so we’re just diving straight in. Inhaling sharply, you gave him a nod. “I know”
Of course you knew. It was fueling your latest dilemma. Your mantra every time Jungkook kissed you so deliciously and you had to pull yourself back to the reality that he was, in fact, a Jeon.
“Well, I’m the one who saw it happen” Taehyung began to tremble slightly, sliding onto the barstool with you next to him. You set a hand on his knee. “I told hyung, because I was so fucking scared. I thought he would hurt you next. When hyung gets angry he…”
A small smile spread over your lips. You were no stranger to Jin’s anger. How terrifying he could be in the, albeit rare times he would lose his otherwise charming demeanor.
“He had me point out who killed her. He took me with him and he shot Mr. Jeon. Like a maniac. Then he turned around and told the Chairwoman that I pulled the trigger. And my mother…was furious. I think she may have been having an affair with him”
Not just an affair. You mused. She ordered the fucking kill.
But he didn’t need to know that.
“She was furious at me. I was young, and I allegedly had killed someone. Naturally, she sent me away to get psychiatric help. Jin was her shining star, of course. The first son. She believed him over me”
Taehyung’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment. It reminded of you when you’d watch him doze off in your lap. He really did have such beautiful eyelashes.
“That man who was impersonating me, Dr. Park—he was on my care team. He was instructed to give me pills to keep me from being stable enough to leave the facility. Jin orchestrated all of it. He kept me locked up for 10 years, just so he could have you all to himself. I figured it out. Stopped taking meds. I figured out he was trying to impersonate me so I began to lie to him. Hoping that someone I trusted—you, Namjoon—someone would notice he wasn’t me”
You held your hands out. Reluctantly, he placed his palm against yours, letting you squeeze. His eyes flashed. They were starved for affection, you could tell. He must not have had anyone to support him. To touch him. To keep him out of his mind.
“What do you need from me to fix this?” You blinked up at him earnestly. He simply held your gaze. Words apparently caught, as he gulped. “Because I will do anything”
“Time”
Fair.
“You’ve changed” It was meant as an insult. Of course, considering what Taehyung knew of you. A naïve, innocent girl who believed in fantasies. “Do you still play cards?”
Your grip on him tightened excitedly. “I do. Would you like to play?”
He squinted at you. “Later. Detective Jeon called for you” His eyes went back to your bruised chest. You wondered how he was able to figure out so much without any words.
Letting his hand go, you rose to go get changed. Taehyung’s hand brushed against your elbow, stopping you.
“Princess” He breathed shakily.
“Yeah?” You looked back at him.
“Did you and my brother…were you together?”
You smiled. Thinking back to the last night you saw him. The sweet moments before chaos erupted.
“No” Your fingers twisted against the fabric of your tank top. “We did not get together”
Taehyung nodded, heading for your door. He slowed down, for barely a second. Not even looking at you.
Hauntingly soft, he whispered:
“I’ll always know when you’re lying to me, princess”
- The night of the murder -
His plush lips melted against yours. He kissed you like you were a craving he couldn't shake. Like those lips weren't the very same ones spewing the lies that made it impossible for you to trust him. As if he could break through to you through the tug of his teeth against your bottom lip. Or the soft breaths he'd breathe into you.
It was everything. From your fingertips to your head, every inch of you brought to life. You’d never felt anything like it. Dizzy with need, you kissed him back harder, wanting to get lost in him.
He exhaled, barely able to catch his breath. His eyes were so sincere, so in love, you felt your throat get caught. Your chest burning.
“I love you Y/n” He had said it in one fell breath, cursing as his lips continued to move against yours. You could have been flying, you’d never quite felt so high.
“I-I love you too, Jin please”
“Fuck” The growl in his voice had you weak in the knees, “Princess you say my name like that I swear I’ll” He bit into your bottom lip softly, nose tracing yours. His words were caught, and you felt him stiffen.
“So do it” You blinked at him, gripping his shirt so tight it could tear. ���Come on, Jin. I won’t tell. You won’t tell.”
His hands circled your hips. Pinching the fabric, tugging at it unconsciously.
“But then what, hm? Princess? I can’t let you go once I’ve had a taste”
“So don’t let me go.” You pleaded. Jin looked away. “You hate that I am getting engaged. You hate when I flirt with your friends. You hate that I have Yoongi. You’re jealous.”
You dropped your volume “Because you want me just as bad”
Jin looked into your eyes and you swore you could see his heart breaking. He was so beautiful, so twisted and yet you adored him.
“Princess…your mother” Jin stroked your waist tenderly, speaking softly. “She didn’t like me. At all. She specifically put in her will that if you and I ever got married you would lose control of her company. Of Nexus. Otherwise”
Jin smiled in defeat, gazing into your starry eyes. “I would have made you mine the second I could”
And just like that. Nothing—nothing was going to keep off of this man.
The safehouse was surrounded by a pine forest. The air was chilly, the stars glimmering in the sky. The back pool was glowing with underlights—the blue marbling reflecting off your face as you sat poolside, legs like a pendulum, kicking against your thoughts.
Jin slowly made his way outside after making the two of you a drink.
He handed your glass to you. Clinking it against his own before you both took a sip. A mutual decision to lose inhibition.
“You okay?” His question was sincere. You stared back into the pool. The edge had a small, sleek fountain. Pouring in more and more—but never overspilling.
You downed your drink. Welcome the burn down your throat. Jin took a seat on the firm cushioned pool chair. Legs spread, resting his elbows on his thighs. Swirling the glass against his wrist as he watched you.
His chest muscles pressing against the fabric of his button-down. He had popped a few buttons open, revealing his smooth chest. The glowing light reflected in his smouldering eyes. Eyes that were on the edge of danger. One word away from snapping.
You set your glass aside. Leaning back on your palms, stretching your neck back.
“You didn’t touch me in the shower this morning”
He took another sip.
“We’re just friends”
You got up, the water dripping down your legs. Facing him. Your dress was already scrunched up, but you looked Jin straight in the eye as you hooked your fingers under the straps, letting it glide down your frame.
“You’re right” You responded. A grin hooked on Jin’s face.
“You really are beautiful, princess” His voice was breathless. His compliments only fueled you. You loved his words like they were silk ribbons against your bare skin.
Next was your panties. Dragging them down your legs—you tossed them towards Jin. Without flinching, he caught them.
He was clearly amused. Intrigued to see what you would do next. Your naked body shivered in the crisp night. Nipples hard and aching to be touched.
“You like playing games with me, right Jin? Making bets”
You jumped into the water. Wading your way to the other end of the pool.
“Sure, princess”
“Then I bet you can’t come into this water and not fuck me”
“What’s in it for me?” He tilted his head, taunting you.
“I win, you take me out of this stupid marriage deal. You win—and I’ll give you Nexus”
His eyes flashed with interest. Thumb running against his jaw and he considered your offer.
Without an answer, Jin finished off his drink. Kicking his shoes off he stepped into the pool—clothes on. Wading towards you.
You could see his chest under his shirt now—the water bleeding through the white. He approached you. Inches away. Not touching.
And then your fingers slipped into your cunt. Without leaving his gaze.
Lips parting, you gasped. You pumped yourself, your other hand falling onto Jin’s neck. His pupils widened when he realized what you were doing.
“You really have no shame”
You let out a soft laugh, but the heat in your core was overbearing. Your fingers trailed up Jin’s neck, cupping his jaw before you pushed your thumb between his lips.
And he sucked it.
Shamelessly.
You surged with wetness.
You floated closer to him still, watching the way his mouth moved, Imagining against your throbbing pussy.
You added another finger to your cunt. Jin’s tongue pushed out your thumb.
“You feel good, princess?” His voice was coarse. You bit your lip, whining as you nodded.
“Yeah” Your voice was embarrassingly whiny. “M’ wanna come”
“What’s that?” Jin taunted, his gaze darkening on you. You could feel the heat radiating off of his skin.
“Wanna come…for you” You slide your mouth against his. He kissed you firmly, his hand reaching down, gripping your wrist hard and pulling you out of yourself. Replacing it with his own two fingers.
He cursed, as you clenched down on his fingers. His thumb rubbing against your clit. Slowly.
Your foreheads pressed together. Mouths open, breathing each other in.
“Wanna come”
“Not yet” Jin growled.
“Please” You whimpered softly. “Let me come”
Jin smirked, his other hand curling around your neck. “You listen to me.” He growled. “You come when I fucking tell you to come. Is that clear?”
How were you not supposed to get more turned on by that? You soaked his fingers and his grip on your throat tightened.
He pulled his fingers out so fast, it made you dizzy. The night thing you knew he was lifting you up, pulling your thighs apart so you could wrap your legs around him. His jaw slacked against your neck, sucking your skin as you cried out into the night.
“Fuck” He hissed, “You’re so hot” He cupped your breast, pushing it up to meet his lips. He sucked on your nipples in tight tugs—before widening his mouth so his tongue could flick at you.
Flipped you around—you back against his chest. The buckle of his belt pressed against the cushion of your ass. His hands fisting your breasts. Lips behind your ear.
You were so overstimulated, you wanted to cry. You could come from these teasing touches alone—and you knew he knew it. Your body was glowing despite the cool water it was submerged in. Every cell alive with desire.
He gripped your throat again, pulling you back to him so he could kiss your neck. His hair brushing against you, making you feral.
And then he unzipped his pants.
Pushed himself inside you.
“Go ahead” He ordered. “Come”
The pressure of him filling you up had you shattering. You screamed as you came all over his cock, squeezing the life out of him as he hissed violently. He didn’t move, just let you spasm with wetness while he felt every bit. You lost your balance, held up only by his fingers on your neck and breast which were still squeezing at you.
He filled you up so painstakingly good. And the fact that he just snapped so suddenly had you twitching all over. You’d never come so hard in your life.
If anyone were to see you right now, they’d see a man dressed in drenched business attire fucking a fully naked woman against a pool wall.
Fuck.
“You lost” You mumbled, reaching back to touch his cheek. You turned your face as much as you could to look into his eyes. “I won”
“I don’t give a fuck” Jin growled. “You’re mine now”
You smiled blissfully as his heavy cock dragged out of your cunt before slamming back inside you. The water in the pool spilling out over the edges. Splashing wildly.
“Jin—yes” You pouted with pleasure. “Oooh fuck, yes”
He took his time. Each thrust harder than the previous. And he watched your expression. The way your eyes rolled back, lips parted almost drooling at how good he was fucking you.
“So fucking tight for me, Princess—fuck” He dug his teeth against your ear. “You know how many times I’ve thought about this—ramming my fat cock into you while you whine and beg for me just like this”
He slid out, turning you to face him. He took a moment to smile, a look of incredulous disbelief in his electric eyes.
“My good girl” He tugged your bottom lip. “My pretty girl” His lips glued to yours. Lingering “You’re mine princess”
You nodded, humming against him. He rubbed the head of his cock against your clit—not leaving your lips for more than a second.
“Why’d you give in?” You asked him.
He slid back into you seamlessly. And you felt right at home. Gazing into his eyes, lips locked, with him inside you.
He rolled his hips, bouncing you up and down on his length. Your fingers scraping against his back. Finally grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging it. Jin hissed, biting at your lips. His hands on your ass, squeezing the flesh, digging his fingers in.
He licked your teeth, then your lips, before pushing his tongue into your mouth.
He gripped your jaw, tilting your chin up.
“Look at me, princess”
You did.
He sheathed himself inside of you. “Come”
And you exploded.
He had you on command. The power he held over you was absurd but you loved it. You loved him.
“Good girl” He stroked your face. The aftershocks consumed you as you whimpered. He coaxed you through it. “There you go, princess, you’re doing so good” Pecking kisses at the edge of your lips as you cursed out.
He slid his hand between your hot bodies, rubbing your clit as you writhed in his hold. He kept you cumming until there were tears in your eyes. And you were begging him—screaming for him to stop.
All the while, he kept digging into you. His pace picking up but his gaze never leaving yours.
And by God the way he looked at you—that was someone in love. So possessed with the flaming adoration and desire that reason flew out the door. He’d kill for you. He’d die for you. You had no doubt in your mind.
And then darkness came knocking into your mind and your high dissipated. You were supposed to kill him tonight.
Your eyes softened at him. A tear rolling down your cheek. Jin slowed his pace, looking at you with concern. He swiped the tear away with his thumb.
“Princess” He whispered, nudging your cheek, “Everything okay?”
The tears began to stream down faster. Jin move your arms so he could hold both your hands, still inside you.
“What’s wrong?” The possessive edge in his voice was evident.
You sniffled.
“I love you so fucking much Jin”
Jin buckled over, digging his nails into your wrists. You could feel the hot pressure burst between your legs.
“Fuck” He cursed loudly, pounding into you at a punishing speed as spurts of cum painted your walls.
He calmed down, pulling you into a tight embrace. Kissing the back of your shoulder.
Facing you again, cupping your face in his palms. He searched your eyes.
“The only way you’re getting engaged tomorrow is over my dead body, princess” He promised. “You’re mine now, forever”
- Present Day -
Jungkook wasn’t sure if you’d even want to see him after how the two of you left things the previous night.
Guilt seized him.
“Why exactly are you putting us in a room together?” Across the room, Park Jimin sat, handcuffed to his chair. The light hanging above illuminated his glimmering eyes. Hair tousled. “You know I can just tell her that it was you. I was Jin’s therapist—I know you two were—”
Footsteps echoed from the hall.
“Shut up.” Jungkook rolled his eyes.
He felt his heart get lighter as you walked into the room.
You. Causal. Jungkook’s cock twitched. Those little shorts that made him want to just grab at you. A long-sleeved hoodie that covered your hands. This version of you, he swore he was obsessed. The version not hiding behind all the Kim’s blood money.
Jungkook knew you were attractive. From the time he lost his breath seeing you at your engagement, until now. But right now. Despite the tiredness in your eyes. He swore you’d never looked hotter.
He reached out for your hand.
The moment you touched; both of your eyes met. Some sense of understanding passed between you.
I’m sorry.
I know. Gazing into your eyes had become such a familiar thing. He couldn’t pinpoint when, but you went from antagonizing him to being a source of comfort.
You were still a brat. And he’d tell you as much.
“Sure, don’t mind me as you eye fuck each other” Jimin’s voice interrupted the tender moment.
Jungkook's fingers intertwined with yours, forming a reassuring grip as he guided you to a seat beside him. The warmth of his touch lingered, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the inside of your wrist—a silent promise that he was there by your side.
"Y/n, Dr. Park. I want to walk through the timeline of the murder with you both to see where your stories diverge. Now, I don’t think either of you did this," Jungkook stated with a calm resolve. “I think it was Jung Hoseok.”
Jungkook felt the tension ripple through you.
He watched as you looked at Jimin. Examining him with distaste. Thoughts running rampant in your mind—he just wanted to climb inside and hear what you were thinking.
“No.” You cleared your throat. “It was me.”
“What?” Both Jungkook and Jimin were startled by the sudden confession.
“I killed Jin. Arrest me”
Jimin’s brows furrowed. Jungkook was simply shocked.
“Y/n this isn’t funny.”
You brushed off his question, pulling your hand out of his grasp. “I hated Jin. I knew about his years of scheming and lies. I knew that he was trying to get hold of my mother’s company after his mother gave everything to Namjoon. And I knew that he wanted me to get married to Taehyung so that he could deem him mentally unstable, send him away again, and steal my shares through the board once we got married”
“Y/n” Jungkook tried to get you to look at him, but you wouldn’t. Your eyes were on Jimin, communicating who knows what to that crazy manipulative bastard. “If you confess, I will actually have to arrest you”
Jimin was quick to interject. “Wait. Hoseok was there that night too, wasn’t he?”
You flinched.
“Y/n. For the love of God just walk us through what else happened that night. Don’t leave anything out. You can trust me” Jungkook urged you.
You pursed your lips. You were playing another game—he could see it in your eyes. Were you lying—why were you lying—and who exactly were you trying to protect?
“Yeah. Fine. Hobi was there. Luckily for me, because Jin and I got into an argument as I figured out what he was up to, and he got so angry that he—” You inhaled sharply “He hit me. So Hobi punched him”
A ringing struck Jungkook’s ears. He hit you. Kim Seokjin laid a hand on you.
A seething rage ran through his veins. He stood up, unable to contain the anger. Needing release.
His fists clenched as he did his best not to punch through the wall.
"That bastard. God, if he wasn't dead, I'd kill him myself,"
Your words from the previous day lingered in Jungkook's mind: "I've grown up around men like that."
For all he knew, Jin had been abusive this whole time.
Jimin smiled, “Funny you say that Detective” Jungkook shot him a look.
"I'm fine, okay. Hoseok and I go way back. He had been setting Namjoon up for months, putting the idea into his head to kill Jin by making Namjoon jealous that I was going to get engaged to Taehyung, and that it was Jin’s fault," you explained.
"Namjoon... and you?" He searched your eyes for an explanation. You avoided him once again. “Well couldn’t you have married him instead, I mean?”
Jimin chuckled, "That was Jin’s doing. Namjoon was totally in love with her. But Jin made sure that she was alienated from him after he assaulted her. He made Namjoon promise it would be Taehyung, convincing him it was what their mom wanted"
“What?” Jungkook’s jaw twitched.
“He did not assault me” You assured him, “He tricked me into giving him my virginity. How’d Jin even know about that?”
“Baby girl,” Jimin spoke steadily, “Jin knew everything about you. I wasn’t lying about the cameras. He monitored you like a hawk”
A disturbed look passed over you.
"Okay. Hoseok came and punched Jin, and then what happened? Did he shoot him? " Jungkook urged you on.
"No. I did”
Jungkook ran his hand through his hair, frustration evident. “You and me. Outside, now”
-
Jungkook directed you to an empty investigation room. Worn out and frustrated as he shut the door behind you.
He didn’t say a word. Hands finding your hips.
Lips taking your life away.
You craved him. He groaned against your mouth, breath hot and fingers desperate. Lips tangling under a cloud of denial. Searching for a sweet escape.
“Y/n—we do need to talk—” Jungkook hissed in pleasure, forcing himself to part with you. He inhaled you, tracing his nose against your jaw as you arched your back into his touch. Chest heavy with want.
“I missed you” You moaned softly against his mouth.
Jungkook bit back a smile. Eyes ghosting from your eyelids to your lips “I’m sorry” He took on a more serious tone. His thumb running up and down your throat. “About last night”
“Jungkook, I loved last night” You spoke breathlessly. “It was the first good night I’ve had in a while”
Jungkook's fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin as he spoke. The soft glow of a nearby lamp accentuated the contours of his face, casting shadows that danced with the weight of his words.
“Why are you still lying to me, Y/n?”
Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, and your fingers found solace in the tousled strands of his hair. The scent of his cologne lingered, a familiar comfort amidst the chaos of your thoughts.
“Have I not proved myself to you? You still don’t trust me”
“You don’t trust me either, do you?” you asked, your voice a mere whisper that hung in the charged air between you. “Are you gonna let me go?”
You nudged him with your nose, a silent plea for honesty. “Are you gonna arrest me?”
He held your gaze, a storm brewing in the depths of his eyes.
“I—” Jungkook's voice caught, emotions raw and unfiltered.
“I hate that I’m falling for you.”
Your eyes widened. His confession was wildly uncalled for and sent you into a vortex of your thoughts.
Blush painted his cheeks. Speaking from the heart was evidently new territory for him.
“And I can’t stop.”
Your heart trembled. Fuck. You felt the same. You knew it, despite everything. You didn’t think it was possible to love so soon after Jin. Jungkook wasn’t Jin. He was simple. Exactly who he showed up as. He wasn’t playing games.
You were. And you couldn’t hurt him like this any longer.
“You know this doesn’t end well, Jungkook,” you whispered, fingers tracing the contours of his face. “I have to marry a Kim to get my company back”
The realization hit you. You couldn’t marry Taehyung—Taehyung hated you. He would murder you in his sleep, and you couldn’t have that.
Your plan failed. You couldn’t blame this on Namjoon anymore. You needed him.
"You’d marry someone just for a company?" Jungkook asked, his low voice laced with disbelief and frustration. "I thought you hated the way the Kim’s controlled you. Why would you willingly tie yourself to them?"
Your shoulders tensed, a defensive response bubbling up. "It's not just about them, Jungkook. Nexus is my birthright, and I have responsibilities. It’s all I have. I can't just walk away from it because you don’t like the world it comes from"
You knew he wouldn’t understand. People like you were groomed to take over family businesses. All you wanted was revenge. On a life that robbed you of choice. To do that, you needed power. You needed Nexus.
"Why not?" Jungkook shot back, his eyes searching yours for a glimmer of understanding. "Nexus is dangerous—isn’t that the whole reason Jin was trying to keep you out of it?"
"I don't need you to rescue me, Jungkook"
His jaw tightened, eyes narrowing in a mixture of frustration and hurt. "This isn't about rescuing you! I can't stand the thought of you tying yourself to a family that's suffocating you when I could offer you something better."
"And what is that, Jungkook?" you challenged, your frustration mirroring his. "A life where I’m with the son of the man who murdered my mother in cold blood?”
Pindrop silence.
Aside from the harmony of your haggard breaths.
“What?” Jungkook’s large eyes quivered with shock. Did he really not know?
“You think your dad was killed for no good reason—well there was one. Actually.”
Jungkook looked down, “Y/n.” But you knew there was nothing he could say. He couldn’t change the fact that it happened. That the two of you had history before you’d even met.
A bitter laugh escaped you, "We could never work"
"You think I wanted this?" Jungkook exclaimed. "I despised everything about you. And I tried to resist it because I knew it would be complicated. But, fuck, I want you. You want me. I don’t know why, I don’t know when, but somewhere along the line, I stopped hating you”
Your heart melted at his words.
“And you became everything”
You stared at him. Disbelief. And then you were running into his arms. He was lifting you up into a kiss. The kind of kiss that drowns you. The desperation, the pent-up frustration from your argument—the hopelessness of what you felt for one another—was a beautiful concoction of flames dancing between you.
“Y/n” Jungkook mumbled but you wouldn’t leave his lips. Afraid if you did, the moment would end again. And you didn’t want to think. You wanted to fade away.
Your fingers slid under his shirt. Searching his muscles.
Growling lowly, Jungkook pressed you against the wall again. Eyelashes brushing against one another, his expression softened seeing your swollen lips and desperate eyes. Stay. His eyes called to you. Stay with me.
“I’m sorry” You whispered so softly, your words feathering against his skin. “I’ll go, Jungkook”
He grabbed your wrist.
“No” Jungkook closed in on you, “I’m placing you under arrest”
Hobi’s manicured nails traced along the sleek contours of a pistol. Custom made. In his pocket, he felt the vibration of his phone.
Setting the gun down on the glass table, he placed his phone against his ear.
You have a call from—
“I accept the charges” This should be good.
“He knows your name”
There was no time for greetings with you. You weren’t into the charmed bullshit like Jin was.
Hobi inhaled sharply. Fuck. If the investigation moved in his direction, everything would be at risk. All these years, he had been meticulous and careful. Flying under the radar of any and all authorities. You’d only know his truth if he was in business with you. To the world, he wore a carefully curated mask. A budding model. To explain the money.
Explain his sin-stained wealth.
You paused for a moment, “He knows you and I have known each other. He also knows you dated Jin”
The last comment was an accusation. He heard you loud and clear. He knew you well enough now after the last three years spent plotting this intricate web to recapture Nexus for you. After the Chairwoman died, he approached you. Told you the truth about Jin’s intentions.
“How long? When were you going to tell me—before or after we planned to kill him?”
Kim Seokjin was a good fuck. He talked too much for one thing, but Hobi didn’t really mind. He liked to be in control of the situation. Play both sides, if you will. Dating a man like Seokjin meant letting him think he was in charge, when in fact, the reigns were in his own hands all along. He knew about Jin’s psychotic past. His twisted quest. All of it.
Lying was natural to him. One of the first skills he learned. “I was just doing it to make sure he didn’t know what we were up to”
“But he did know. Before you showed up that night, that’s what we were arguing about. I knew what he was up to. He knew what I was up to. And I think you told him”
“Careful darling” Hobi’s voice was silk, “I’m not someone you want to play against”
“They were going to pin the murder on you but I got them off your scent because if they find out about you—they find out—”
“That your mom was a mobster” Hobi spoke plainly “And that Nexus distributes weapons”
Thus the reason Hobi knew about you. Your mother. His family. They were in business together. You’d grown up as loose family friends who lost touch as life materialized until Hobi decided to make his move. Everything precise. Everything calculated.
“Yeah. So I confessed. It was a bluff. I didn’t think he’d arrest me but”
“You poked the bear, I assume”
“We’re not pinning this on Joon. I need to marry him to get control. I refuse to marry Taehyung—swear to God that kid will kill me in my sleep. Figure something else out, or I will whip that Detective around my finger and get him to blame you for it anyway.”
Hobi felt bored, suddenly. Meaningless threats were of no consequence. He owned the police for all he cared. He was untouchable.
“I’m not sure little unhinged Taehyung will react well to you marrying Namjoon. Perhaps you should consider staying in jail. Considering you did pull the trigger”
He could feel your energy shift through the phone. And what you said next was the only time you’d ever managed to tilt him off of his high-horse.
“I did. But he didn’t die. After we left, I saw him again”
Namjoon was back in his home office, urgently responding to some emails. Even among the chaos—he still had an empire to run.
His phone rang. “What?” His tone snarky.
“Y/n’s been arrested” Hoseok’s amused voice filled his ears, “She confessed to murdering Jin”
Namjoon’s brows furrowed, “Why the hell would she do that? And why do you know about it before me?”
“Namjoon. Someone innocent is going to rot in jail for something we both know you did”
Shit. Namjoon sunk into his ergonomic chair. Hobi was right. But if he went to jail then who the hell would run the company?
“I can watch over things for you until you cut a deal. I’m sure they’ll offer you something” It was as if Hobi could read his mind. “I know you, Joonie. You won’t be able to live knowing she’s in jail because of you”
But the truth was that, Namjoon had doubts. He remembered going to the safehouse. He remembered getting into a fight with Jin—Jin who was already battered up.
He didn’t mean for him to die. He had been drunk out of his mind.
“Namjoon” Hobi was persistent, “Don’t be like Jin. Do the right thing. Confess”
Fine. Namjoon shut his laptop and reached for his keys. He hung up the phone, rushing into the hall.
“Taehyung” He searched for his younger brother. He was still reading in the same position Namjoon had seen him when he returned home. He had to tell him what was going on. You were going to come home to him and he needed to know you’d be safe.
“Y/n’s been arrested for Jin’s murder. She confessed but—” He gulped, “She didn’t do it. It was me. I killed him, because I was jealous. I didn’t want her to get engaged to…well you…and Jin was the one forcing her”
Taehyung sat, soundless. Not a word, not a breath.
“I won’t let her go down for this. I’m going to confess. I may have to serve some time in jail—but I can cut a deal. They want to get to me anyway. She will come back alone, and my friend will be watching the company but” Namjoon panted.
He kneeled in front of Taehyung, palms to his knees. “I want you to know I missed you. I know we were never very close. But I hate what happened to you, I hate our mom for it, I hate Jin for it. You’re adjusting. You’re angry, and I understand. But you need to take care of Y/n. She’s our responsibility”
Taehyung nodded, as Namjoon stood up and rushed towards the door.
“Hyung wait!” Namjoon stilled. Taehyung never called him that before.
He walked up to him, before wrapping his arms around his shoulders. “Come home soon”
Namjoon’s otherwise cold heart was flush with love. He had almost forgotten what it was like to have family who cares. His eyes became teary—but he had not time.
He was going to save you.
“Dr. Park”
You sneered at the smirking face before you. In the shared cell, for the first time you faced him alone since everything went down.
“You’re so interesting, Y/n” Great. Not even here for a minute and he’s already psychoanalyzing me. “We both know you didn’t go through with it”
You sat down in front of him, making sure there was a good amount of space. He tapped against the wall aimlessly. The air was musty—even a little cold. You regretted not wearing leggings. Legs bare against the bench.
Jungkook's confession replayed in your mind like a broken record. His hopeful, big, gorgeous brown eyes turned wounded. He opened up for you. He lay down his vendetta, for you. And you simply couldn’t do the same.
Because this is so much bigger than him.
“You can tell me what’s wrong you know” Jimin said. For once, his voice wasn’t laced with amusement. “I know you don’t trust me, but I am a therapist”
“Why’d you even do this?” You spat, hugging your arms against your stomach. “What was in this for you?”
Jimin smiled. “Jin was unlike any of my other patients. He asked a favor, and honestly I was just so interested to see how this would all play out. It’s a house of cards blowing over. Brick by brick”
You frowned. “What would have happened if we didn’t figure it out? Were you planning on actually marrying me? Living with me for the rest of your life?”
Jimin shook his head. “That was never the plan. He needed someone to show up at the wedding. Jin never let Taehyung out because he was terrified that Taehyung would want revenge. So I was to stand in. Get married to you, and then disappear. After all, Jin wanted you to himself but he didn’t want to share you. He can’t marry you—it ruins his plans. After I’d disappear, Jin would say that Taehyung was back in in-patient treatment to the board and take your shares”
You raised your eyebrows. “My mom ran nexus without a man by her side for years. I don’t understand why I had to get married to get access to them”
Jimin clicked his tongue. “That was Jin’s doing. Chairwoman Kim oversaw your trust while you were in her guardianship. Jin leveraged the threat of Taehyung to get her to add the provision. Jimin grinned widely, “Then he killed her”
Your mouth went dry.
“Slowly—and made it look like cancer. But she also knew it was coming, so she didn’t give him the company. Kim’s will do what they do” Jimin marveled, almost in admiration. It made you sick.
Something in your gut twisted so violently, you wanted to hurl.
“And Hobi” You went on despite your state, “When did that start?”
“Oh that had been going on for a long time” Jimin waved his hand, “On and off. They were a bit toxic.”
“Did Jin know…about Hobi?”
“You mean who his family was? Of course he did. He knew about Hobi and Hobi helped him plot all this out. Later, Hobi said he found out you knew everything—I don’t think Jin knew you two knew each other. But they both stood to gain. If Jin got control of Nexus, Hobi and he would be in business together. Though in my opinion I think Hobi was also planning some sort of seduce, marry, kill type thing to expand his own power”
Was there even a single person in your life who was ever honest with you? A stampede trailblazed over your chest. You were bleeding out on the inside so much that it all began to go quiet. All began to feel numb.
“Why wouldn’t Jin just ask me for Nexus? Why go through all this—he knew I’d do anything for him?”
“Y/n, I’m a doctor. I work with intense patients and sometimes in in-patient facilities. People who see me are truly twisted. You can’t hope to understand why they act the way they do. Besides, your mom had gone to great lengths to make sure that Jin specifically kept his paws off you”
Why? You thought back. If your mother hated Jin why would she have let you spend so much time with him? With his family. The two of you had been inseperable.
“Wanna know something else that’s fun?”
You glared at him.
“Jin truly, genuinely believed that everything he was doing was for you”
Don’t say it. You looked down, blinking back tears.
“He loved you. He wanted to keep you safe. Away from gun dealers and mob life. He just wanted you to have everything you wanted without a care in the world. Jury’s still out on if it’s romantic—or just insane”
Namjoon burst into the precinct. Jungkook was at his desk, staring blankly at the screen in front of him. “It was me. Not her. I killed Jin. There you go. Let her go right fucking now” He went on to corroborate his story. It matched up. Him being drunk, arriving at the safehouse no doubt after you and Hoseok had left. A gun was there. Jin was already down. And Namjoon had oh so much motive.
Jungkook couldn’t help but wonder if all your lies and games had just been to protect Namjoon. You acted so indebted to this family of psychopaths—after what Namjoon did to you you were trying to keep him out of Jail?
He was thrilled suddenly. Namjoon away meant you were free. You wouldn’t be able to marry him, not yet—and he had time to show you that you belonged with him. Away from these freaks.
“Okay” Jungkook said, satisfied with the confession. He motioned to guards to take Namjoon into the cell. You and Jimin both were dragged out in exchange.
“You’re free to leave” Jungkook looked down, pretending to shift around the papers on his desk. He couldn’t look you in the eye—the pain was still too tender. Jimin didn’t need to be told twice. He fled immediately. But you, you stayed.
Jungkook looked up at you, annoyed. “What?” He was back to the spiteful tone with which he spoke to you when the two of you had just met.
“I know you hate me” You said quietly. Jungkook noticed the queasy look in your eyes, “But Jimin just told me—everything. And Taehyung is at home who terrifyies me. I guess what I’m asking is—”
“Thought you can take care of yourself”
There was real, raw hurt in your eyes. Jungkook felt a little guilty. He knew this had all been emotionally traumatic for you. He’d seen you fall apart and put yourself back together again multiple times already.
“Jungkook” You gripped the edge of his desk, losing your balance. Alarms went off in his chest. His pride dissipated as you fainted—he rushed to catch you before you hit the floor.
The light began to filter through your eyelids. Slowly you blinked, trying to understand your surroundings.
There he was. Your shadow.
“You’re awake”
Even lying on a hospital bed, Kim Taehyung didn’t give a flying fuck about you. Great.
“I’m glad”
You struggled to sit up as Taehyung neared you. He gently traced the edge of your face. His fingers were tender. Soft. You leaned into his touch.
“Don’t do that ever again” His voice dropped low. Flattening his palm against your cheek, his thumb brushed against the edge of your lips, “I can’t lose you”
Your lips parted in shock. His face was serious as ever.
“Also, there’s something you should know” He stood up, turning his back to you. Staring intently out the window.
Your chest seized with concern. You wondered what happened to Jungkook—if he was alright. You assumed he was the one who brought you to the hospital.
“Dr. Park was found dead last night” Taehyung paused. “He was murdered”
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a/n: its been a while since ive written so! pls let me know what you think!! scream with me!! who are you suspicious of! who are you falling for! i wanna know ;)
thank you for reading <3
#bts smut#bts angst#bts x reader#bts fanfic#jin x reader#bts fic#seokjin x reader#jin fic#bts jin smut#kim seokjin#seokjin fanfic#jungkook x reader#soft yandere#seokjin smut#yandere seokjin#taehyung x reader#yandere bts#taehyung smut#kim taehyung x reader#bts mafia series#bts mafia au#bts mafia fic#ot7 x reader#bts series#kim taehyung smut#jungkook fic recs#bts yandere#yandere smut#yandere taehyung#jin fics
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Comfort Fic Fest 2024 Masterpost
Here is a list of all the wonderful fics we've got in the first edition.
Cuddlebug by Sun_flwr
When the call from the adoption agency finally calls, Harry and Louis are surprised to discover that they have been tentatively paired with a young pup named Rami, who suffers from a multitude of issues stemming from the abandonment he’s suffered. But no matter the challenges, they know they will do everything they can to care for and love this pup as if he was their own.
The Bear Necessities by @silverstuff50
It’s taken nine tries, and nearly twenty quid, but Louis has won the bear. Harry’s been eyeing it up since they arrived at the fairground earlier, and every time they’d walked past the shooting gallery his boyfriend’s eyes had gone all big and hopeful. Louis can never resist that look. So while Harry had gone to find the loo, Louis decided to win him the huge, soft teddy bear as a surprise for when he returned. How hard could it be? Nine tries later, with Harry now at his side to cheer him on, he eventually manages to hit all the targets with his five shots, and the massive bear is finally in his gorgeous boyfriend’s arms.
I just wanted you to know (this is me trying) by @calumsboy
Harry pulls the cupcake out of his mouth, and looks at it. Chocolate flavoured with gummy bears and coca cola bottle gummies falling off the frosting. Yum. Louis' laughing at the sight of a pink Harry, and so Harry flips him off. That just makes him laugh harder. Asshole. Harry doesn't bother wiping the frosting off just yet. He likes the sound of Louis' giggles too much to really want to end them. But what he does do, is collect some frosting on the tip of his finger and place the dollop on Louis' scrunched-up-from-laughter nose. "Cute little bunny."
Puppy (Baby, I'm Pawrfect for You) by @yoursolosong
“So… what are we naming him?” “I think ‘Puppy’ is fitting.” “Haz… that's like me calling you ‘human’” Harry pouted his cute little pout and Louis wished he could kiss it off his face. Louis let out a sigh, “Puppy it is.”
In an octopus's garden with you by @liminalkittyfics
Autistic alpha Harry, a teacher, spends an overwhelming day on a field trip to the aquarium. Luckily, his omega, Louis, knows just what he needs.
Safe Place To Hide Us Away by @lunarheslwt
Weighed down by everyday stress, alpha Harry takes up nesting in secret. It takes a load of missing clothes and unravelling lies for him to realise that his omega would love and accept him no matter what.
Always Room For Pie by @leighllbealright
Gemma looks up at Louis. “You know what I realized the other day, Petunia?” “Hm?” Louis hums, not looking away from Poppy’s face. “In just a couple of weeks, it will have been a year since the day we met.” Louis freezes. “That…” His eyes wander across the room, taking everything in. “That can’t be… That can’t be right…” “Oh, but it is, my sweet Petunia,” Gemma can’t help but smirk. “Life moved awfully fast last year.” He turns to her, shock still all over his face. “A ye-ar?” He asks, turning the word into two syllables. She held a finger up. “One year.” “One year?!” He whispers. Gemma’s eyebrow jumps. “We could say it a few more times if you’d like?” She snickers, tilting her head and looking at him like he’s an idiot.
Louis and the Very Terrible, No Good Sleep by @nooradeservedbetter
Louis had always been used to sleeping in a puppy pile back home. It was something that just happened, with all of his siblings being omegas, they just ended up in a giant nest all together, and Louis loved to cuddle in the warmth, and breathe in the familiar scent of home. He hadn’t thought much about it when, after graduating from the local uni, he got a job offer in Brighton and had to leave the family den.
You Helped Me Through The Darkness by @sandrahasfaith28
What happens when Louis, who has only been aware of his submissive tendencies for a few years and was abused in his first BDSM relationship, meets Soft Dom Harry as his therapist.
We Chase the Stars to Lose Our Shadow by 50secsoflarry
Insomniac and someone professionally cuddling with them to fall asleep....They fall in love.
Good Soup by grapejuiceblues85
Harry is sick, Louis decides to be a good husband
My Hands At Risk, I Fold by @yourgorgeouscolors28
"Sometimes, when Louis first wakes up, he thinks he’s back in the hospital, and panic hits him." Or, Harry is a famous popstar, Louis is a famous football player and one injury changes everything.
Hold Me Tight, Don't Let Go by hssattelite28
Louis walked up to the front office to submit his paperwork, having finally secured his new job as a middle school guidance counselor. That is, until he was told that when he signed on the dotted line, they negated to highlight a few key points. For instance, teachers and staff only obtain paid time off during their cycles after they’ve completed 5 years in the district. If they take the time off before that, whoever substitutes gets paid out of the teacher’s final wages. He was then gently directed to the nurses office, where he could obtain a “Suppressants and Me” pamphlet and a number to the town’s doctor’s office. Or, Louis has to go on new suppressants, and they come with some unexpected side effects.
It Must Have Been The Wind by @goldensweetmemory
A small smile appeared on Louis’ face as his thumb hovered over the perfect song to play in this situation. He wanted to make sure Harry knew that he was always going to be an open ear for him, no strings attached and absolutely no judgment. And also the song was kind of annoying as fuck. Way too overplayed. But the message was clear. Lean On Me began playing through the speaker, the volume increasing as Louis held down the side button on his phone. The smile never faded as he lit his new cigarette, bringing it to his lips. The voices upstairs quieted down, a silence stretching and wrapping itself around the upstairs apartment just in time for the first chorus to play. He heard the sliding door click shut just before the second verse. He just hoped Harry understood.
Do you still remember feeling young by @Kleep
Harry and Louis are in the kitchen, just putting the finishing touches on dinner when Lucas comes home from work. What that really means, is that Harry is cooking and Louis sits at the kitchen island drinking a beer, watching Harry cook, happy the task is back in Harry’s hands. In the back of Louis’ mind, he knows that if Lucas was intending to talk to them tonight, dinner is his opportunity. While nervous, Louis hasn’t mentioned the impending talk to Harry even once tonight. When they start eating dinner he tries to be the very picture of cool, calm and collected. Louis has only taken about 3 bites of his meal when Lucas finally brings it up. “You know how I wanted to talk to you guys, right? Louis isn’t sure if he should put his fork down for this and give Lucas his complete attention, or just keep eating and let Lucas have the space to say what he needs to say. He decides on keeping it light, casual, nodding in Lucas’ direction.
The sign on your heart (it's reserved for me) by @darkinfinity
The one where Louis Tomlinson is a single dad and is finally allowing himself to start dating. Insert Harry Styles, a charming coffee shop owner who sweeps him off his feet.
In All Your Gorgeous Colours by @loudloudlove
Harry Styles is just your average 20-something. He followed his soul to a new town and now he works hard as a barman and lives alone in his little house. That is until he's swept off his feet... literally. When Harry regains consciousness, his entire world has changed. Everything that was once black and white is now flooded with colour. And the first person he sees is his soulmate...Liam. What Harry didn't count on was Liam's best mate...Louis. What is it about him that Harry just can't let go of? Why has his entire world been turned around? And is it really possible to walk away from your soulmate to chase a dream?
Route 43 by @elleseekeepdriv
When Louis' car breaks down, he's forced to take the bus to university every day. Little does he know that he will fall for the shy and sometimes overwhelmed curly boy who is always reading at the bus stop. The 43 turns out to be the best thing that happens to them...or is it each other?
Please Tell Me That You've Got Me by colourfulsuitmoon
A world where the nickname your soulmate will call you appears on your chest on your 18th birthday and Harry wakes up with the only name he hates.
Just a Minute More by kingofthefridaynight
“Look,” Harry said now, tapping Louis repeatedly on his thigh. There it was, the proud beam on Harry’s face, as he showed off a piece of fabric in a wooden circle. The bright yarn in the middle vaguely resembled a flower. Either way, Louis smiled, “It’s beautiful, angel.” “You recognise it?” Harry asked with a teasing smirk, wagging the hoop a little into Louis’ direction. “Or are you just being nice?” Harry knew him too well. He could read him like a book. That’s what marriage is about though, Louis figured, as he tried to squint at the flower to see what it was supposed to resemble. “I’m sorry, love,” Louis confessed after a second. “Tell me, though?” Or, a rainy day in bed, where all they do is enjoy each other’s company.
A Perfect Match by @AmITooLate2
Prompt: Louis and his best friend Zayn go on a blind double date. Louis finds his date to be Liam and Zayn finds his to be Harry. Oh, but Louis and Harry are soulmates. (Ziam can be too).
Well Versed In All Things You by Read321718
Louis has a migraine he's been hiding from Harry and Harry knows just how to care for him.
Oh, those summer nights! by unbrxkenhabits
Between sunsets, horseback ridings, waterfalls, movie nights and football matches, Louis and Harry get to feel the sweet taste of a young love.
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𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬
(𝐋𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)
summary: Larissa's unable to sleep and it's up to you find a solution
a/n: wrote this one because my heart craves for something soft and smutty :'))
warning/s: NSFW. soft smut.
Most often than not, Larissa stirs awake in the middle of the night, she slowly unravels your arm around her middle and softly, ever so gently, moves to pry herself off from your embrace and off the bed. Quickly, she would tuck her pillow under your arm to give you something to cuddle with. And a kiss on your cheek before she leaves.
Tonight was no different, she gets up, tucks a pillow next to you, kisses your forehead and puts her robe on before she leaves the bedroom, tiptoeing all the way to her private study. It has always been like this since she can remember, she wakes up and never goes back to sleep no matter how exhausted her body feels. She considers booking an appointment with the new therapist in Jericho but never does.
Larissa sighs and opens her laptop. She does nothing but stare at the angry red notification of her unread emails.
The door creaks as it is being pushed open, her gaze shifting and that’s when she finds you, standing there with a sleepy look on your face, your hair untamed, the strap of your tank top fell from your left shoulder. “I woke up and you weren’t in bed.” The yawn that follows makes Larissa’s lips curl, and while she feels guilty to not have been by your side, she feels incredibly warm seeing this sight in front of her.
You walk in, shutting the door behind you, “Can’t sleep again?” you ask while settling yourself on the couch. You heard her mumble confirming that she, in fact, can’t sleep again. “Come here, love.” you told her, opening your arms and prompting her to come.
Larissa looks vulnerable and tired, she sits down next to you but you tug her arm and motion for her to lay on top of you with her head on your chest, she refuses and grumbles about being “too big” and “too heavy” which you dismiss with a glare. Defeated, she settles on the position you told her to.
She’s tensed, from her muscles to her breathing, you know she’s holding herself back, “Let go, baby. It’s okay. You’ve been on top of me for more than one occasion and I’ve been fine. You’re not going to break me. Just let go.”
Eventually you feel her knots loosen after a while of whispering sweet nothings as you hold her closer, your lips leaving tender kisses on top of her head. You feel her letting go. “That’s it, my love. Good job.” you place another reward on her forehead making her blush.
“I love you.” she mumbles, nestling her face to the crook of your neck and her warm, steady breathing brushes against your skin rendering your breath to halt for a second, your mind rebooting itself. “I–I love you, too.” and you feel her smirk against you.
You continue the idle work of your fingers as they run through her silken silver locks, “What’s keeping you up, sweetheart?” silence. No answer. You thought she’s gone to sleep but she shifts, pulling away from your neck. It’s my dreams… she wanted to say, but it feels foolish so she doesn’t.
She feels your thumb gliding across her cheekbone, your eyes searching her own for an answer she denied herself to say and she’s thankful that you didn’t feel the need to push and just let it be knowing that eventually she will open up to you.
So she leans closer, brushing her lips on your lips, silently thanking you. You knew what it meant based on the smile you have once she pulls from you. “Okay.”
“You should go and sleep.” she says, her gaze never leaving yours.
You raised a brow, “And leave you here? No. I’m not going back without you.” Larissa rolls her eyes and buries her face on your chest, grinning towards your attitude. “Fine, let’s go.” she gives up.
The bed dips with her weight, and you watch her lay on her back on her side of the bed, “I know you’re the biggest cuddler so you don’t have to pretend that you don’t want to sleep on top of me.” that made her pause, “Come here, love. I want to hold you.” hoping it can ease her to fall asleep quickly.
She can feel her heart expand from the way affection fills your voice to the fond way you look at her. There’s nothing but warmth in her chest right now as the butterflies go wild in her tummy, her head empty of her previous thoughts. Even after all these years you still have the same effect on her.
Half an hour later, Larissa’s still unable to fall asleep, shifting frequently and grunting. You can feel her growing exhausted. It’s rendering you both exhausted. “I’m sorry.” she mumbles in the dark, her breath caressing your neck, “It’s okay.” you assured her.
“Maybe there’s something else that I can do…a solution”
Larissa quirks a brow though you can’t see her, “What is it?”
“Do you trust me?” Larissa nods, “Lay on your back please.”
Now on her back, you switched your positions. You climb on top of her, straddling her, a smile swiftly curling on her lips. She knows.
She instinctively bit her lower lip, hand caressing your bare thigh and confidently caressing higher until they’re right under your top. “So this is your solution?” she teased, pinching your nipples.
“Yes. Now, I want you to relax, okay? This is about you.” the shapeshifter finds her arms pinned above her head, as your breath tickles her neck. “Relax, baby.” you grin to yourself noticing her nipples are hard underneath her shirt but you decide that they can wait just a little bit longer.
Your mouth crashes against her and she welcomes you with an intensity that makes you shiver, her tongue darting out to play with yours, and even that remains soft, “I love you” she breathes against you. You abandon her lips to trail kisses down her jawline, she throws her head backward, exposing her neck. You know what she’s asking for. You smile while you place one final kiss on her jaw and repeat the process down her neck, sucking a bright bruise on her pulse point before soothing it down with your tongue. “Fuck me.” she whined, her voice faltering as she spread her legs even wider, “Feel me.” she begs.
You know it never fails to make her cunt sopping wet, her juices leaking. She feels you underneath her shorts, a smirk appearing when you realize she lacks a certain piece of fabric. She blushes hard. You tauntingly gather her wetness with your finger, spreading what’s collected around her clit. Her arousal grows thicker. “Please.” she whines, her brows furrowing and she’s staring at you with those big, beautiful eyes, asking you to plunge your fingers in her sex and just fuck her.
“No need to beg, my love.” you husked, leaving a soft kiss on her navel as you slowly crawl down her body, situating yourself in between her legs. You won’t lie that hearing her beg you makes you even wetter, there’s just something about her desperate pleas that makes your mouth go dry and your whole body burns.
“Is this okay? You good up there?” Larissa melts once more, never getting used to every time you take a moment to check up on her, “I’m fine.”
The sweet adoring look in her eyes switched to something dark once you run the tip of your tongue from her inner thigh to her dripping cunt, spreading the pink lips apart with your thumbs to reveal more wet area and plunging in your tongue. Her moans are fueling you, challenging you to go deeper and fuck her until she’s shaking, her cum trickling down.
As you alternate between licking her hole and flicking with her clit, your hands start to wander above her hips, to her waist until you’re cupping her perfectly shaped breasts. She moans even louder, filthier, more of her juice coats your tongue. She tastes divine.
The first thrust of your fingers into her, Larissa growls at the satisfaction of being filled, of feeling you curling inside her pussy. “God, you’re so tight, baby.” and she mewls, shutting her eyes and bucking her hips to feel more.
As you begin to fuck her, your freehand released its hold from her breast and grabbed her hand, intertwining your fingers together, your tongue wantonly licking her clit drawing more sounds from your dear girlfriend. “Ugh–yes, yes, yes–fuck, fuck me!” something about her being so vocal while getting fingered so dirty will never cease to make you smile. “I’m close, hun. Fuck me.”
You fuck her through and after her orgasm hit and her legs shake, fucks her some more with a strap, your mouth latched around one nipple while your freehand never left the other holding it for support. Larissa keeps taking it all until she’s very much spent and pushing you off. The pace falters, you stop and pull the toy from her sore cunt. She’s breathing heavily.
“Are you okay, mi amore?” Even after all the filthy things you told her while you fuck her like a whore, Larissa finds how your tone quickly shifts to being concerned and soft in no time to be fascinating. “I’m okay, just sore and tired. I think…I think I’m–”
“Shhh, know, I understand. I’ll go get cleaned up and I’ll bring you some towels to clean you. I will be back, don't move.” she sleepily hums indicating it was a job well done. You kissed her cheek before you left.
After less than ten minutes you’re back by her side with a damp towel to clean the sticky cum and a dry one to wipe away the sweat. She mumbles something incoherent while you try to push her short up her legs, “Go to sleep, my love.”
Once done, you laid yourself in bed and scooted closer to her, draping one arm across her waist to pull her. “Good night.” you whisper, dropping one soft kiss on her shoulder. She’s already knocked down but you feel her turn until she’s facing you, her head nestled on your shoulder. "Sweet dreams."
The next day, Larissa curses herself, her eyes widening as the clock on her side reads 12:15 pm. It’s the first time she’s slept through her 5:45 am, 6:00 am and 6:15 am alarm…
She turns to you, “This is your fault” she says, throwing a pillow on your face hoping to wipe away your grin and you only shrug, unable to mask the smile on your lips seeing the headmistress in distress as she moves around the bedroom.
#larissa weems x reader#larissa weems#larissa weems imagine#principal larissa weems#larissa weems smut#soft smut#gwendoline christie imagines
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FILL THE VOID ➵ F. CASTLE
Summary: Struggling with BPD, you’re determined to not get attached to anyone again, but that quickly changes when you meet Frank.
Warnings: BPD, suicide ideation, language, hurt/comfort
Word count: 2.4k
Author’s note: Long time no see :) I’ve talked about this before but in addition to C-PTSD, I also struggle with borderline personality and I’ve started to talk about it with my therapist and it’s bringing up some feelings. Sooo I obviously had to write about it and insert Frank into the scenario to make myself feel better. I hope this resonates with someone else as well! <3
You had sworn to yourself you weren’t going to fall for anyone else ever again. You weren’t going to let anyone in, wouldn’t allow anyone to get close to you and unravel you and all your baggage. It was simply too much, bound to end in pain and abandonment and you couldn’t put yourself through that cycle for the millionth time.
Obviously, when you met Frank, he made that plan plenty hard to put into action. He was too charming for his own good, and he didn’t even know it. Really, he wasn’t looking for anything romantic and he certainly didn’t mean to sweep you off of your feet, yet he ended up doing exactly like that.
You were an idiot to think you wouldn’t get attached in one night. That was all it was supposed to be — just two strangers in your preferred albeit dingy bar, having a drink and chatting for the hell of it. You couldn’t deny that he was easy on the eyes, and little did you know, he thought about the same about you, but getting to know him more was what did the final nail in the coffin. You had your history of impulsive hook-ups, but you were really trying your best to ditch that unsafe habit. Somehow, connecting beyond the physical level was worse.
Your first mistake was asking his name. ”Frank”, he uttered out with that gravelly tone you were enjoying all too much, not bothering to do the whole handshake routine as he gulped down a swig of his beer and then looked over to you expectantly. You introduced yourself in return, but your mind was already wondering what Frank entailed, what kind of man you were on the cusp of learning about, and the curiosity was driving you crazy.
”So, who exactly is Frank Castle?” you queried, resting your jaw against your hand as you admired the man who started to look more and more delicious under the yellowy lights of the bar. He had a prickly stubble adorning his jawline and his hair was growing gloriously on the top, and there was something enchanting about his wide nose and the way he scrunched it up every single time he took a sip of his drink.
”Uhh…” He seemed reluctant to talk about his history, and you supposed you did come off a little strong. That should have been your sign to back off and be glad you dodged a bullet, but you just couldn’t help yourself.
”Sorry, don’t mean to pry”, you chuckled awkwardly, wiping your hair away from your face and looking down at your hands to avoid his stare.
”Nah, it’s alright”, he was quick to reassure you, something about the soft tone setting your soul alight as you looked back up at him. ”Just… ain’t a very happy story to share, y’know? Don’t wanna dampen the mood”, he continued, and you nodded in understanding before breaking into a teasing smile.
”And what mood is that?” you wondered before wetting your lips, and taking note of the sweep of your tongue, Frank once again found himself speechless before managing a chuckle, one that sounded almost nervous.
”I dunno, you tell me. ’M just enjoyin’ the company of a pretty lady right now”, he shrugged. Again, he hadn’t been looking for anything romantic, but he couldn’t deny being drawn to you already, and lately, he had challenged himself to put himself out there more. He would always miss his wife, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to find company in someone else after mourning her for years.
The compliment went straight to your head, feeding your already developing attachment. And before you knew it, you were exchanging numbers, an euphoric soar lifting your heart and undeniable excitement pounding at your ribcage with force necessary to break through. You were already being pulled in too deep to writhe away, and there was not a thing you could do to stop yourself from heading down that same path you had trodden so many times before.
When you finally called it a night, Frank, ever the gentleman, walked you to your apartment. And as you reached the front door, you swallowed thickly, knowing very well what was going through both of your minds. In fact, it was as if Frank had read yours.
”Hey, we can just say goodbye for now. No pressure”, he reminded, his hands deep in his pockets as he gave you a sincere look, insisting that he meant every word. You nodded carefully, tearing your gaze from his handsome face, knowing every second you spent looking at his impossibly deep eyes or full lips would only weaken your resolve more and more.
”Don’t get me wrong, I… I want to. But I really shouldn’t, I—I kind of have a bad habit of sleeping on the first date when I don’t even know the person that well and it usually backfires”, you explained shyly, rubbing the back of your neck and finally bringing your eyes back to him, finding a faint smile on his lips.
”I understand, sweetheart”, he promised, giving you a curt nod before taking a step back, ready to leave. Before he did, though, he gave you a look. ”Just so we’re clear, though… that wasn’t a first date. I’mma do it right whenever you have time for me”, he insisted, flashing a grin at you before turning on his heel and walking away, not even giving you time to process.
As you got inside your apartment and sealed the door behind you, an indestructible smile took over your features. So much for not getting attached.
At first, you were able to keep your behavior in check and Frank was none the wiser to your past issues, apart from the small tidbits you offered in return when he finally opened up about his family. He took you on dates, some of them with a great effort put into them, but some of them more lowkey which felt more like Frank. You were perfectly content having wine on the rooftop of his apartment building or sharing a pizza while watching cheesy action on his couch — you were just happy to bask in his company. He seemed perfect, like he could do no wrong, and even when he admitted to his vigilante activities, you saw no fault in him. To you, he was flawless, and you adored him.
But slowly, through the cracks in your facade, the problems you had feared were beginning to show.
It started when he ran into trouble with some criminals he had been after. His mood became irritated and stressed, and you took it to heart. Your own mood soured and you tried your best to help him, unable to stop thinking about him and how he was struggling, your mind in a vicious loop as you sat in the bad feeling. A few days later, he was feeling better, and you instantly felt rejuvenated and alive again, and when the inevitable disappointment came around once more, you couldn’t breathe.
The biggest downside, however, was him putting distance between you and him to avoid you getting caught in all his problems. And distance was not something you handled well. You didn’t know how to communicate it to him, either, so instead, you were left alone in an evil downward spiral.
You messaged. You called. You cried and you begged and pleaded for an answer and reassurance that he still cared about you. It was embarrassing and you felt so vulnerable and hurt that it was almost impossible to bear. You tried so hard to be rational and understand that he was probably in a lot of trouble and danger and he’d pay attention to you as soon as he could, but the wait was killing you. It felt like you were starving without him, like your emotions were bleeding and you didn’t have the tools to stop the flow. You were suffering and it was a pain only he could alleviate.
Eventually, one night, there was a knock on your door and you flew up from the couch where you had been reading over your and Frank’s text messages again and again. Without even bothering to check through the peephole, you swung the door open, and at the sight of Frank, you felt healed. You threw yourself in his arms, hugging him tightly and clinging on for dear life, with your eyes squeezed shut and your face buried into his chest.
”Hey, sweetheart”, he whispered, wrapping his arms around you as he walked into the apartment with a gentle nudge to push you along. He kicked the door shut and carefully pried you off of him, only so he could look into your eyes. ”I’m real sorry I haven’t gotten back to you. Been dealin’ with some scumbags for the past couple of days and it’s been… rough. But I shoulda called you back. That’s on me”, he apologized, a sad look in his eyes as he stared down at you.
”It’s okay”, you breathed out with a smile, ”you’re here now. That’s all that matters.” Just like that, it was like nothing had ever happened, all the pain forgotten now that you were finally back in his embrace. It was so easy to doubt his feelings for you when he was gone, like they ceased to exist when he wasn’t around to prove his affection every second, but now that he was back… you were over the moon.
But the worst was yet to come.
”Yeah, about that, sweetheart…”, he started, and in an instant, your heart sank. ”I… I ain’t here to stay. I gotta get out of town for a while. I got these guys after me…”, he explained, but as he went on, the words didn’t register. All you heard was that he was leaving and that was enough to break you.
Tears welled up in your eyes and you grabbed ahold of Frank’s arm. ”Don’t leave me, please”, you whispered, ”you can’t leave me. Please, Frank.” His heart broke at the sight of you crying, and he reached for your cheek to wipe the tears away with his thumb, but the soft gesture did nothing to comfort your breaking heart.
”I’m sorry, sweet girl, I am”, he spoke, and quietly, he leaned in to kiss your forehead. As his lips collided with your hot skin, you closed your eyes and tightened your hold on his arm, but it didn’t deter him.
Gently but firmly, he undid your grip from him and left. The apartment became painfully quiet, but only for a while, as your loud sobs soon enough broke the peace. You fell to your knees, clawing on your chest as you wept and grieved what felt like a monumental loss.
It was the beginning of the end, you thought. You quickly lost the will to get up in the mornings, to eat, to sleep. In fact, you could no longer see the point in living, at all. You contemplated just putting an end to your miserable existence, feeling not only griefstricken but so goddamn humiliated. You had let yourself get caught up in it again, had let someone in and as always, it ended with you depressed and suicidal at the bottom of your bed.
When were you going to learn?
For the first couple of days, you loathed yourself. Then, your mind started to turn against Frank. He had hurt you, had disappointed you, had hurt you. He had held your heart in his hand and he had just crushed it. How could he do that? He had to be evil. He had to be cruel. It was his fault and his alone. And yet, you would have done anything to have him back.
One week later, that was exactly what happened. There was a knock on your door again and you found the strength to get out of your bed to find out who it was, though you were only hoping for one person.
Much to your relief and delight, when you opened the door, Frank was stood there looking like a kicked puppy, his dark eyes filled with something apologetic and his hands folded in front of him like he was getting ready to beg for your forgiveness.
”Sweetheart, I—”, he began, gulping as he hesitated. ”Your friend called me. Told me everything. About… about you”, he went on, causing your eyes to widen in surprise. You didn’t know how to feel about that revelation. You supposed you had to be grateful to your friend who had visited you in your mourning, because she had brought Frank back to you, but you also felt ashamed. Like Frank saw you in a completely different light now. Surely, he was here to end it with you for good, unable and unwilling to associate with someone as troubled as yourself.
”I didn’t know me leavin’ would hurt you so deeply. I never wanna cause you any pain, baby. I… I’m fallin’ for you and I only left because it wasn’t safe, not ’cause I didn’t care for you. But I understand now that it must’ve been real bad for you when I did that”, he explained, and slowly, you nodded. You raked your fingers through your knotted hair, feeling insecure under the weight of his stare, but he found you just as beautiful as always.
”Are you here to break up with me?” you asked weakly, sniffling as you looked down at your feet. He reacted immediately, lifting your chin with his fingertip and meeting your gaze.
”No. Fuck, never. ’M here to ask you to come with me. I still have a lot to do but I want you on the road by my side. How does that sound, sweetheart?” he proposed, a hopeful smile on his lips.
You couldn’t believe your ears. But sure enough, you mirrored his smile eventually, and your heart came back to life.
”I would love to, Frank”, you sighed, breaking into tears again, this time out of happiness. He quickly pulled you into a hug, squeezing you in his arms and kissing the top of your head. And when he withdrew from you, it was only so he could meet your lips with his own in a tender but loving kiss. It was slow and deep and it took your breath away, your stomach doing backflips as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back with all your might.
There was still a lot you hadn’t revealed to him, but it was the first time someone had seen you at your lowest and accepted it, welcomed it, and for that, you had a feeling that Frank could really, truly, genuinely be the one.
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The Accountant
A Caption Tale
Ruth walked to her office after exiting the elevator. She sat down and took a sip of her coffee. She was excited as a major new client was meeting her today. This could be the break she needed to take her career to the next level. She had been preparing for weeks. The office was quiet except for the occasional sound of the air conditioner kicking in and the distant murmur of colleagues in the hallway.
She straightened out her desk as she readjusted her jacket. She checked her reflection in her desktop computer screen as she fixed her hair. The digital clock read 8:50 AM, and she had ten minutes before the meeting was set to begin. The anticipation grew within her like a tightly coiled spring, ready to unravel at any moment.
The quiet was suddenly pierced by the sound of approaching footsteps. The door to her office swung open, revealing a sharply dressed man with a briefcase in one hand and a coffee cup in the other. "Good morning, Ms. Taylor," he said with a firm handshake and a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm Alex Mercer, from Mercer Industries. I hope I'm not too early."
Ruth's heart skipped a beat. This was it. The moment she had been waiting for. She returned the smile, trying to hide the nerves that danced in her stomach. "Not at all, Mr. Mercer. Please, have a seat." She gestured to the chair across from her desk.
Ruth took a deep breath as her heart continued to beat rapidly. Ruth gathered her thoughts as she couldn’t help but be attracted to the successful businessman. She hoped she could impress him with her presentation.
Alex sat down and placed his briefcase on the floor. He took a sip from his coffee, eyeing the room with a critical gaze. The silence grew thicker as he took in the neatly arranged documents and the diplomas hanging on the wall. He looked back at her, his gaze unreadable. "I've been looking forward to this," he said, setting his cup down. "Your company has quite the reputation, and I have high expectations."
Ruth felt a surge of confidence. She had worked hard to make sure everything was perfect for this moment. She opened her file and began her presentation, her voice steady and professional. The room was filled with the soft glow of the screen, displaying graphs and figures that painted a picture of growth and potential. Alex nodded occasionally, his eyes never leaving the screen.
“Wow you really did your homework Ms. Taylor. I am impressed but I do have one question.” Alex leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk, his eyes now fully focused on her. Ruth smiled at the compliment of her work and responded. “Please call me Ruth and I would be glad to answer your questions.”
“Well I’m primarily here for your other services.” Alex’s voice was measured, hinting at something beyond the usual business dealings. “You see, I have been facing some... challenges with self-control. I’ve heard your firm has a knack for... handling such situations discreetly and effectively. Is that true?”
Ruth squinted as she was confused by Alex’s question. She was an accountant and financial planner not a therapist. “I’m not sure I understand the question Alex do you mean you spend company funds frivolously?” She asked carefully trying not to misconstrue his words.
“No… well I do that too but I’m talking about the special service you perform for top clients.” Alex leaned back in his chair, his gaze unwavering. “The kind that ensures their dirty laundry stays out of the public eye and doesn’t affect their bottom line. I need your help with that, Ruth.”
“I still don’t think I get what you mean…” Ruth replied, feeling a chill creep down her spine. Alex’s smile grew wider, but it no longer looked friendly. He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a folder, tossing it onto the desk. Ruth opened it to find Alex’s prenup. She wasn’t a legal expert but the financial language was very clear.
“That’s right Ruth if I get caught cheating then I lose my company. However, being a handsome, rich, public man makes it extremely hard to resist temptation.” Ruth looked at Alex still confused as to how she could assist with this problem. “I’m sorry Alex… I still don’t understand how I can help you with this…” she replied tentatively.
“Wow, you really don’t know?” Alex leaned back in his chair, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. “Your firm is the perfect cover for releasing tension. So I’m here for a session… my frigid wife is purposefully resisting me. She also hired a lingerie model as my assistant. I need a release.”
“Mr. Mercer I’m sure a good porn video can do the job. I can help you with your financial portfolio. Not that.” The words came out before she could stop them. Alex’s smile didn’t falter, but his eyes turned icy. “So you have no idea that your company is really a brothel for high end businessman?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.
Ruth felt the blood drain from her face. This was not what she signed up for. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She was an accomplished educated woman and this powerful man was treating her like an object to be used. She couldn’t hold back her frustration and anger. “Brothel! How dare you! I understand that you are rich and powerful but I do not need your business you Neanderthal!!! I graduated from Yale you bastard. I’m sure I can find other clients.”
Alex kept his smile during Ruth’s tirade. “Are you finished?” he asked calmly, taking a sip of his coffee. His composure was unshaken. “Yes get out !” she retorted, pointing at the door. Alex stood up, his movements deliberate and unhurried. He took a moment to look her over before speaking again. “Your firm’s reputation precedes it, but I admit I had my doubts but consider them gone now.” He stared at Ruth deeply into her eyes. He then whispered “reformo”
Ruth fell back into her seat as if she was struck by lightning. She felt as if her skin was on fire. “Uhh what … what did you do to me?” she stuttered. She felt as if her skin was stretching all over her body. She grasped the handles to her desk chair as her body stiffened. She arched her back as her breasts exploded from her chest doubling in size. She moaned as they felt so sensitive against her clothes. Alex sat back down enjoying the show.
Ruth continued to moan as her body continued to shift. The room became heavy as magical energy permeated inside. Ruth’s fingernails grew longer and more feminine as they gained a beautiful French manicure. Her lips puffed out and became soft like pillows.She felt her skirt recede until it became a tight pencil skirt. Her hips and ass grew larger making the skirt hug her flesh. Pantyhose covered her smooth legs making them even more irresistible.
The clothes morphed as her shirt lowered to expose her amazing cleavage. She felt her panties become a g string. The sleeves of her jacket shrunk exposing her toned arms. The heels of her stilettos grew longer as her feet became more delicate and comfortable in the arch position. A pearl necklace formed on her neck with a matching bracelet on her wrist.
Her mind became cloudy as math and numbers erased like it was on a whiteboard. Ruth continued to moan as her lips curled into a smile. The wall of diplomas also changed as they became pictures of her with celebrities and businessmen. Ruth began to giggle as she felt her pussy become wet. She was a professional all right. She was a professional bimbo slut for her clients.
“Mmm fuck that felt so good! Ah Mr. Mercer! Pleasure to have you here in the office. How can I serve you?” The words slipped out of Ruth’s lips without thought, her mind now a haze of pleasure and obedience. She pulled her hair into a ponytail. She was no longer the sharp-witted financial planner she had been moments ago. Instead, she was a bimbo, eager to please the man before her.
“Ah well um … Ruth. I needed a release.” Alex leaned back in his chair watching her transformation with a twisted smile. His eyes scanned her new body with hunger. He adjusted himself in his seat feeling his cock press against his slacks.
“Why of course Mr. Mercer! I’m going to make that hard cock spew so much yummy cum. And it’s Roxy sir not Ruth.”
Roxy smiled as she stood up from her chair and kneeled in front of her client. She unbuckled his pants and grasped onto his engorged member. Alex sighed in relief.
“You’re in good hands now sir.”
#beautification#transformation#f2f transformation#breast expansion#bimboification#ass expansion#beauty is power#slutification#personality change#office
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Ě̸̡̞̱̘̹̮̫͚̯͍͕̟̪͂̀̋̉̾͛̂̑̅͜͝c̴̢̺̟̣̠̤̽͋͒̄̄͂̆̿͗̑̊̒̒̕ḧ̷͇͍͉͉̺͈͙́̀͆̀̒̒̅̒͒̔̽ó̶͔̜̓͛̓̂̔̆͌́͆̉͂͘͝͠es of regrets
So! I saw this post from @rivyx (if you like, I can untag you. Just wanna give credit where credit is due):
And I thought:
"Man. It's been a while since I broke my own heart. Oh! Angst between Geordi and Cutie? How about I make Geordi regret for making Cutie believe that they need to multiate and hide the magical part of themselves and even the Empowered world because he doesn't understand a Telepath's needs?"
Hence. This oneshot. Shout out to @moonandstarlightsposts for helping me come up with the title!
(Yes. Yes. I know. Cutie was canonically at fault, too. I just wanna focus on Geordi regretting his actions for a change.)
-
Summary: Second chances come and go. But for Geordi and Cutie, perhaps they should have let it go by.
First comes the awkwardness.
It’s to be expected. A break was decided - no, needed - for the both of them after… well. No point in digging up bad memories. The two of them were heading down a dangerous spiral, and Geordi could no longer ignore the red flags. He’d been through too much to drown in toxicity and abuse again. Whether his partner realised it or not. And that’s the part that crushed his heart. A heart that Geordi painstakingly put back together with liquid gold and long nights of tearful frustrations. He told them about Ben. He told them how his ex callously disregarded his boundaries. And Cutie just -
Therapy was something they agreed to during their break. Geordi needed to address old trauma that re-open like wounds and Cutie -
‘I… I hope this isn’t me coming across as presumptuous, but one of my coworkers is a really good therapist. I think you’ll like him! His name is Cam - ’
‘I still have my old therapist’s number. Um. Thanks, though.’
‘O-Oh! Right. Of course. I should’ve thought of that. I just… never mind.’
That was the last text that Cutie sent. Even after they moved out of his apartment, the two continued to exchange careful messages with one another, awkwardly making sure not to step on each other’s landmines. However, as days gone by, the texts became more and more superficial: ’Morning. Have you eaten?’. ‘Just cereal. Thanks for checking up on me.’ ‘The weather forecast mentioned a thunderstorm. Don’t forget an umbrella, ok?’. When Cutie brought the subject of therapists to the table -
The texts stopped after that.
Geordi had no idea how lonely his existence truly was without Ben and Cutie. The two-bedroom apartment became too big. He cooked too much for a single person. His left side felt too exposed whenever his coworkers dragged him out for drinks and karaoke. It hurts. He has a habit of rubbing his left arm nowadays.
His therapist is a kind woman, the kind that has laugh lines all over her face. Older than him, more at ease with her place in the world, unlike Geordi. She never judges him whenever he finds the courage to unravel before her. Ugly, jagged broken pieces for a heart. Gold and bitter tears for the next few months.
Soon, a year passes.
Something settled within Geordi then. New foundations were built. The world is a little less lonely now that he has opened up to his coworkers, reached out to some cousins on phones and slowly put himself out there again. He had fallen in love with building LEGOs recently. A hobby that happily kept him occupied while a slow, reverb version of Evil by Melanie Martinez plays in the background of the living room.
It took a while, but he finally reached a point and mental headspace to put Cutie back into the equation.
His therapist's words constantly echo in his head, grounding him whenever his fingertips run on the rim of their favourite mug, red with little ladybugs on the ceramic. Witty, funny, confident, mischievous and kind - Cutie’s best would always outshine their worst in Geordi’s eyes. Perhaps that’s why he subconsciously ignores the raising red flags the more and more they tested his boundaries. Anyway, being with Cutie brought out the best of Geordi in return, which he never even knew existed. He loved them, plain and simple. He loves learning about them and their world every day of the week. He was so happy and content whenever they were in his arms. Growing old together was something he thought about when they drove back home from his folks’. Cutie was fast asleep, with their head gently resting against the window of the car. That moment was magical in its own way.
Geordi misses them. His incredible, one-of-a-kind partner.
He thinks about them more often than not nowadays, wondering how therapy is going for them. Had they fallen in love with any new hobbies? Did Cutie make any new friends outside of the Department? If so, he wonders what they’re like.
Thoughts turn to yearning. Yearning turns to Geordi, picking up his phone and texting Cutie first for once.
‘Hey. Good morning. How are you?’
The two of them never used to be awkward when they were a couple. Feeling hopeful, Geordi puts aside his phone as he continues about his day. Fixing himself a hearty lunch using a recipe that he can’t wait to share with Cutie and goes about doing the laundry afterwards. It’s only after his evening shower that a notification lights up on his phone screen.
‘Hey. I’m alright. You?’
Superficial. That’s OK, though. Geordi is not giving up.
The two resume texting every day soon enough as if the distance weren’t ever there. It makes him happy to be updated with every little thing that is going on in Cutie’s life. He spams GIFs and emojis at every picture they share and they, in return, slowly start to send over recorded audio of their little laughter and quips. It makes him miss them all the more. Enough to replay those audios over and over again whenever he can’t sleep at night. During those nights, his phone would always be on the right side of the bed.
Texting eventually evolves to calling when Geordi wakes up from a rather bad nightmare. Something so vague that it slipped from the recess of his conscious as he panted for air. Without even thinking about it, he presses on a familiar number. His call is answered almost immediately.
“Geordi? Why are you awake around this hour?”
Relief floods into his very being. They once fondly tease him that, no, their voice isn’t magic. Unlike Vampires and their special eyes, Telepaths specialised in minds instead. It’s his love that makes their voice special and it’s love that dispels the lingering nightmare.
“Geordi?” Cutie’s voice is hesitant at the end of the line. “Is everything ok? Do you have someone nearby that you can call for help?”
“No! No, no. I’m fine.” Comes his quick assurance. The shirt that he brought to sleep is drenched in sweat. His hair is matted to his forehead. He feels gross, and yet he doesn’t want to put Cutie on loudspeaker while he cleans himself up. “I just… really miss you. So much.”
Cutie’s reply is a whisper, “I-I miss you too. Can I ask if that’s the reason why you called me?”
“Yeah… had a nightmare; can’t remember what it was about. What I do remember is how you used to bring me to the kitchen, and you’d make warm chocolate milk for the both of us to help. You’d then talked me through it, helped me calm me down. Did I ever thank you for that? Thank you, by the way.”
“You’re welcome. I like taking care of you. And, uh, you did thank me. Always.”
Geordi lets out a ragged sigh. Those happy moments were just what he needed. “Did I wake you up? I didn’t mean to.”
“Nah, you’re good. I was doing some leftover documents for an assignment.”
Cutie never used to stay up past midnight. They like to sleep early whenever they can due to how mentally, emotionally, and physically taxing their job as an intel extraction officer can be. Cutie often rants about how the Department inefficiently run things, especially when it comes to bureaucracy. Perhaps this is one of their new habits? Speaking of which -
“How’s work treating you? Did you get that promotion?”
“Work’s alright. Are you feeling better now?”
Well, his heart was no longer racing, that’s for sure. But he still wants to hear their voice even through the static. “Like magic. You’re always the perfect cure for everything.” He waits for Cutie to laugh in that out-of-breath sort whenever he compliments them. Light and carefree.
Instead, they hum.
“Glad to hear it. Are you going to try and go back to sleep?”
“Only when you are, Cutie.” Geordi tries to flirt and perhaps coax them to rest for the evening.
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll go to bed in a bit. Um. If that’s all - ”
Perhaps it’s because the nightmare that he can no longer recall had something to do with Cutie. Perhaps it’s because he hasn’t heard their voice properly in so, so long. Whatever it is, it gave Geordi a burst of courage. He quickly asks before Cutie can hang up, “Wait, wait! Can I see you, Cutie? I just want to talk. Please?” He swallowed thickly. “I think we’re ready to discuss about… us.”
A thoughtful silence from Cutie.
“I’d like that. Where do you want to meet up?”
Geordi’s night becomes much sweeter after that. They talk and plan until his eyes grow heavy and Cutie’s documents are filed away. They even put him on loudspeaker and brought him to the bathroom so they could continue talking while they showered. God, the sounds of running water alone fill him with wants and images. He can’t stop picturing himself in that shower with them. So you can’t blame how incredibly giddy Geordi is when he finally sees Cutie walk up to the cafe the next day. They offered him a small smile as they made themselves comfortable across the table. Healthy and rocking a new fashion style when Geordi is busy absorbing every little detail about them. He could honestly stare at them like a work of art in the Louvre.
“So I’m here…” Cutie says rather unnecessarily. They scratch their cheek nervously. “You wanted to talk?”
He snaps out of a daze. Shit, he got distracted by his thoughts! For a split second, Geordi can’t help but wonder if they heard his inner ramblings. Judging by Cutie’s guarded expression, he lets out a sigh of relief. It sets his heart at ease to learn about this new side of Cutie. “Yeah. Thanks for agreeing to meet up with me. You look… god, Cutie. You look amazing.”
“Thanks! You’re not too bad on the eye yourself.” Cutie’s smile is wider now. “We’ve practically caught up to speed with each other lives for a while now. So, this is it. Whatever you decide, I’ll respect it this time. I promise.”
That assurance dissolves any doubts that Geordi might have harboured. He’s more sure about his next few words than ever before. “I still want us to be together, Cutie. That never changed. Even when we were on a break, I had no one else. I love you, even when you broke my heart. Do you… do you still feel the same?”
Cutie reaches out to hold his hand, which is gripping a fork so tightly. He didn’t even realise it. The moment when skin meets skin, a familiar warmth spread across his arm. It’s like sunshine thawing out the chills in his bone marrow. He lets go of the fork in favour of holding their hand and squeezes it. “My feelings haven’t changed too. I love you so damn much, Geordi. I know I said it before, but I’m so sorry for hurting you. Words alone aren’t enough to promise you that I won’t do it again, but I’ll make sure my actions make up for it. From now on, you’ll lead where this relationship is going. I’ll follow” Steely determination glimmers behind Cutie’s eyes. God, they look so hot! Would his therapist finally judge him if he asked Cutie to drag him to the bathroom for a quickie? It’s been too long since they’re in him.
“Geordi? Are you ok? You look flush.” Some of that hesitation creeps back into Cutie. Dimming that spark of fire. He panics when their hand tugs back.
“Yeah! Sorry. My head’s a bit of a mess.” He begins to explain. Here, he lowered his voice; his eyes lidded. “Maybe you can make sense of it? You might like what you find, Cutie…”
“Oh!” For some reason, Cutie looks positively alarmed. A deer in a headlight. He had never seen that kind of look on their face before. Their sudden reaction threw Geordi off guard. Any lustful thoughts are completely replaced with concern now. “Maybe later. So, uh, where do we go from here? I can’t move back in just yet due to my apartment lease. Or do you want things to stay as they are right now for a little while longer?”
Continue this distance between them? Geordi doesn’t think he’s that strong of a man.
“Feel free to move in any time you can. My place is your home. You know that.”
That gorgeous smile slowly returns. This is Cutie at their best. After that day, things begin falling into place without a hitch. Cutie is back in his life. They bring their clothes and toiletries over when their lease is up -
“You kept my mug?”
“Of course I did, silly. Why would I throw it out?”
“Right… right. Sorry.”
“Cutie? Is something wrong?”
“Nah, don’t worry about it. Say, that recipe you bookmarked earlier, why don’t you let me take a crack at it? I’ll handle dinner tonight!”
- their routines fall into one once more, and Geordi couldn’t be happier. His world is no longer filled with silence and bitterness.
Second comes the realisation.
Geordi has been riding high on cloud nine ever since Cutie settled back into his apartment, into his life. Waking up to their sleeping face feels like a dream that he never wants to end. Their giggling when he rouses them with kisses is a bonus. He loves greeting the morning sun with a partner who is happy and satiated from the night before. And if Cutie is in the mood to play? Well! He’s more than happy to ruin the sheets for the third time in the span of six hours.
And don’t even get him started on domestic bliss.
Since Cutie’s work hours are a lot more flexible than Geordi’s, he’s forever grateful that they always have a pot of hot coffee ready for him on the table and a sweet kiss before he dashes out for the day. If he returns before traffic picks up in the evening, the couple would either go out for a dinner date or stay at home and binge-watch a new series while they eat in the living room. They alternate in cooking and cleaning depending on their schedule, but Cutie seems to have a habit of doing both whenever they can. The coworkers that he invited over for DnD sessions would whistle and nudge him on the shoulder when they looked around the spotless apartment, praising him for scoring the perfect partner after Cutie left them with a tray of snacks and drinks. Internally, Geordi preens.
When the weekends roll around, and it’s just the two of them lazying together in their sweats and old t-shirts, Geordi and Cutie would spend time together by combining their new hobbies. Geordi would lose himself in another LEGO building project while Cutie reads a novel on their phone on the couch. His favourite playlists play on and on, wrapping the couple in a peaceful cocoon.
That is until -
Geordi blinks, back in the present, when he suddenly hears the sliding door of the balcony softly shut. He sees Cutie outside talking on the phone, their back against him. He watches them moving their free hand animatedly for a few seconds longer before focusing back on the tower that he had been building. When the sliding door shuts again, he absentmindedly asks, “Hey, Cutie? What are you in the mood for lunch? Do you want to go to that Chinese restaurant down the street or…” His words trail off the moment he notices the frustrated lines on his partner's forehead. Their eyes were exhausted all of a sudden. Before he could say anything, his partner flashed an apologetic smile.
“Work called. Something came up. I need to step out in a bit, but I should have some time to make lunch - ”
Geordi stops them right there and then. He doesn’t want them to get more stressed out, especially when an emergency - he assumed - just happened. “No, no. Don’t sweat it. How about you go get ready while I make us lunch? I’d rather you have something in your stomach before you leave.” He replies, already up on his feet.
Deer in a headlight on Cutie. Again. What’s going on? “I can do it. It’s your rest day after all - ”
“Nu-uh. You just get your pretty ass in the shower, alright? I’ll have your favourites ready as soon as you step out of our bedroom door again.” Geordi assures them, but in reality? He’s so confused. They never so stressed out about cooking before. Seriously, what’s going on?
Cutie eventually nods. They kiss him on the cheek and make a beeline for the bathroom while Geordi takes out a wok and spatula. Their strange behaviour remains in his mind as he makes spicy stir-fry noodles. Now that he thinks about it, they’ve been going along with everything he likes nowadays. Cooking his favourite meals, making sure the laundry is clean and folded, helping him with the LEGOs, hanging out with his friends and letting him initiate intimacy and sex every time. They laugh when he tells jokes, as cheesy as they are. Apart from their clothes and toiletries, they haven’t brought back their Digimon plushies, or any of their physical books on the shelves. They hate horror movies, but when he absentmindedly suggests they watch Saint Maud, they agree without any hesitation.
It’s like they’re a satellite, faithfully orbiting Geordi’s every need and want. Why… why did he never notice that before? And when was the last time they went out to Cutie’s favourite restaurant again? When was the last time they did what Cutie wanted for a change?
Ah. Geordi remembers now. It was before they went on a break.
Something’s wrong with Cutie. Shit! Why didn’t he notice it before!? Was he truly caught up in his own world that he utterly neglected his partner’s?
The noodles are hot and plated, ready on the table, but Geordi feels so cold and empty. Guilt was heavy in his stomach. His grin is stiff when Cutie finally emerges wearing their standard work fit. Even in black slacks and a white collared shirt, Cutie looks like a model ready for the runway. They tuck into their meal, but Geordi doesn’t have much appetite for it. So many thoughts clash with one another in his head like angry hornets. He doesn’t even know where to start or what to ask. At times like this, Cutie would slip into his mind and act as his anchor. But ever since they got back together again -
“What time would you be coming home?” Is what comes out from Geordi’s lips, frustrated with himself.
Cutie stops washing their dishes to turn around. “If all goes well? In the evening. Probably before midnight, so you don’t have to wait up or put aside dinner for me. I can just grab something when I leave the office.”
And that’s another thing that Geordi just now realised. They don’t talk about work as much as they did before. When asked, sure, Cutie would always answer him, but it was never more than a, “Oh, my cases? Some old, same old.”, “These documents are pretty boring, actually. Something for the higher-ups to keep in their record.”, “The therapist I mentioned before? Oh, you mean Cam? He’s still working on the floor above mine.” Lukewarm. Tepid. Those are the kinds of replies that Cutie would often give him before the conversation seamlessly shifts to another topic.
Not once have they performed magic around him. In fact, ever since they got back together again, Cutie’s voice is constantly absent in his mind.
Suddenly, Geordi feels sick. He forces himself to put on a brave face, a mask that tells his partner that everything is alright, because their eyebrows begin to furrow in hesitation.
And now he knows why.
“Call me when you leave?” Geordi tries not to plead. His voice didn’t crack, that good. The last thing he wants is to get the love of his life in trouble with their superiors. They never did tell him if they received that promotion or not.
It’s a bittersweet victory when Cutie smiles again. “Sure! Have fun with your project, baby.”
They exchange a long kiss; he wonders if they find it weird that Geordi is reluctant to pull their lips away from him. He weeps and weeps into his hands when they leave the apartment. What has he done? Oh god, Cutie… he didn’t mean to. He didn’t mean to drive them into cutting a part of themselves in order to make him happy. He didn’t mean to be so blinded when they made themselves smaller and smaller if that’s what they thought would make him happy. Would let them stay in his life.
He didn’t mean to hurt Cutie. He didn’t mean for any of this to happen! He thought that - he had hoped they got better, not - why couldn’t they just talk - has he become Ben?
Mrs Potato Head plays on and on while Geordi struggles to breathe.
Finally, in comes the heartbreak.
Geordi didn’t even wait for Cutie to come back. The moment he regained control of himself, he ran out with his phone and wallet. His eyes are rimmed-red, just like the setting sun behind him. He knows which streets are veiled against people like him; he just hopes he can ask for help from any Empowered folks who might be entering the Department. He has to fix this. He desperately needs to talk to Cutie. He needs them to know that he loves every part of them, that he loves the magical world as much as they do.
However, when he cuts through the park, he freezes.
Sitting on a bench a little further from the playground is his partner, crying in the arms of a stranger. Cracks begin to form in Geordi’s heart. He’s too far away to hear what they’re saying, but judging from how the stranger does the talking and Cutie sighs and sniffles, it clued him in pretty quickly that they’re talking through him via telepathy. The stranger smiles sadly and offers them a handkerchief. His body language is serene, but the expression on his beautiful face is tight and worried. Is he a coworker? Another lover? Geordi doesn’t know what to believe anymore. Stricken, he watches them pat the stranger’s hand and gathers up their things. Leaving him on the bench as Cutie makes their way out of the park.
It’s at that moment that Geordi’s phone rings. He answers the call without a word.
“Hey, baby. Just left the office.” Cutie’s voice is hoarse. They clear their throat. This time, they sound more like themselves again - fake and bright. “Turns out one of the interns needed a stand-in instructor for tomorrow’s fieldwork. Since I’m on the way home, do you want me to grab anything?”
Geordi watches them wait at the same bus stop from which he just got off. “Why haven’t you talked to me through my head?”
“…Geordi, I’m out right now. Can we maybe talk about this at home?”
“OK. Why have you stopped ironing your work clothes with your hands?”
“I-I like using your new iron instead. What’s going on, Geordi? Did I do something wrong? Look, tell me how I can fix it, please? I don’t… I don’t know what I did wrong…”
Is this how it will always be when they’re together? Hurting each other whether they mean to or not? Acts of love turning into subservience?
The weaker side of him can’t help but wonder if it was a mistake for him and Cutie to get back together again if it means new sorrows and new regrets will always sour their relationship.
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Delicate: Vessel (Sleep Token); Part 8; "My reputation's never been worse."
“This is so fucking stupid.”
I shoved my hands into my hoodie pocket, eyes rolling at the sight of the boys, noise makers between their lips, some jank ass sign unraveling in the wind.
“Your mom’s fucking stupid,” Max fired back with his usual goofy smile, words muffled from the noise maker in his mouth. His knocked his fist against my elbow gently as he passed by, moving to help Cy hold up the poster board.
They’d bought it at a random Walgreens, after having forced the Uber driver to pull over, abruptly. Then, with bumpy hands and terrible penmanship, they wrote out some sarcastic for Sam about returning home from prison.
“Don’t be a sour puss, dude,” Adam replied. His brows were furrowed, chin dipping side to side in disagreement to my negative statement.
I looked to him, watching as he pulled a cone shaped hat down onto his hair, the rubber band snug against his chin. The meer humor of the too-small hat on his head made his words lose any meaning. I wanted to laugh, but instead I shot back, my brows skeptically, sarcasm quick as air, “Who? Me? No, never!”
Adam scoffed a laugh. His hat was finally adjusted now, hands falling to his sides exasperatedly. “Seriously. Just try to be nice, for once. Sam said Daisy’s, like, so sweet.” My skepticism only darkened my gaze, sarcasm sinking into genuine wonder, “So, what, we’re gonna be dancing around some child all summer?”
It was a valid question. When Sam asked us about Daisy joining the tour for the summer, everyone else just jumped on board. I, however, took a little convincing. What business did she even have here, 5,000 miles from home? It’s not like she had any professional connections to touch on, nor was London that interesting. Or, maybe I was just being a pessimist, again…
To say the least, I had trust issues. Or, in my therapist’s more light turn of phrase, I was cautious, careful to new people because I had a lot on the line with my career and had been through numerous situations with others that ended up with me, well…in therapy.
Max battled with the cardboard sign as the wind seemed to be winning the war. He struggled to get the words out as he scuffled to straighten its edges, which seemed to take more work than it needed to, “She’s literally only 5 years younger than you.”
“So, a child?”
“So, a 23 year old, grown woman. She’s really smart, Sam said. I’m sure you can have some fun conversations about the elements and shit.”
“Sam’s biased,” I murmured, focused now on the cigarette between my pointer and middle fingers. I dallied with lighting it, displaced energy in the act. It was early. I was tired.
“Sam’s one of your best mates,” Cy shot me a look. “Listen, just give her a chance. Stop moping just because you think some woman’s gonna take away from our guy time this summer.”
I straightened up, offense hitting my features like a stone wall, “When did I say that? I’m just worried we’re gonna have to cater to some child while we’re trying to literally do our jobs. She’s gonna be pursuing around like she’s in some Taylor Swift video while we’re going to be trying to earn our income. It’s just…weird.”
I’d never mention that fear to them- the fear I had of this trust. I think maybe if they all looked at me a little more closely, they’d see it. They’d see the fear in my eyes. But, I was really good at displacing my anxieties onto a separate, less pressing issue.
If I was ever terrified the sky was going to fall, then, suddenly, I was lashing out about the uncut grass in the front yard, randomly. Gotta love unhealthy coping mechanisms. Cy was still looking at me all judgmentally. I knew he wanted to lecture me further, but he simply reached over, patted my shoulder, and said, “Just…try not to be a dickhead, okay? Let the girl enjoy her summer.”
Max continued on, blabbering about something or the other. “I’m, like…Ollie, have you ever even seen a Taylor Swift video? I am pretty sure not a single fucking one takes place in Europe. They’re all super conceptual and abstract. Honestly, you might actually love some of ‘em. What’s that older one? With the trees and shit?”
“Out Of the Woods?” Adam was quick to fill in the blanks. I looked to him out of the corner of my vision, gaze narrowed. Of course he knew which one it was. He held his hands up, defensively, “What? My little cousin loves her.”
“Mhm,” I nodded, slow.
He trailed off, looking away, “And, maybe, you know, I do, too.”
“Oh, I’m sure.”
Max latched onto Adam’s help, continuing his rant about Taylor Swift, of all things. “Fuck! Out of the Woods! It reminds me a lot of the Fall for Me video! There’s, ya know, water…lots of running…self-deprecation. Fuck, a Sleep Token/Taylor Swift collab would go so hard!”
“Shit, could you imagine some real drums on one of her songs?” Cy perked up at the thought, fingers thrumming against the corner of the sign that he’d now laid his clutches on. “Sick!”
“Oh, God,” I rubbed my forehead, itching more and more to finally light up my cigarette, puff out a few smokey deep breaths. “I can feel the glitter and sparkles starting to fucking suffocate me! Can we please talk about something else?”
“Whatever, Ollie,” Adam flicked his hand towards me dismissively. He went to change the subject when his phone dinged from his pocket. He pulled it out, in one fluid motion, and read whatever text he’d gotten. “Shit! They just got their bags! Quick! Hold up the sign!”
Max shuffled around, all energetic, trying to make everything look perfect. He quickly tried to put a party hat on my head. I had to shove his entire body into Adam to stop him from getting the string down over my chin.
“Fuck off!” I cursed, brushing out the torso of my hoodie. He giggled, annoyingly, knowing he’d successfully gotten on my nerves. Again.
Max turned his attention away from me and to the two people who had just walked out of the airport, suitcases rolling behind them, backpacks looped around their shoulders. I noticed Sam, first, his head dipped down into his phone, curly blonde hair mopped up atop his head. He was dressed, head to toe, in all black. It was a welcome site, the fifth member of our posse back in our home country, our original stomping grounds, even if he wasn’t from here.
I let a smile overtake my features, excitement bubbling in my cheeks. It was actually really good to see him.
I wouldn’t have even paid any attention to the girl standing beside him if she didn’t stick out so much, like a sore thumb. Her bright pink sweater, gray sweatpants, the purples and greens swirled around her suitcase. Every single thing touching her was just…so colorful. Even the expression on her face, wide grin, cheery eyes- though they were circled by tireless bags- it was all so glaring.
I narrowed my eyes skeptically.
As Sam fumbled about on his phone, she stepped forward, excitedly taking an extra noise maker, my left over party hat, from Max. She barely got the hat on before Sam was looking up, our small crowd erupting into joyous ruckus that caused him to nearly drop his phone.
I don’t know why, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I watched her, carefully, as she went through the motions of greeting everyone. Adam was his shy, introverted self. Cy was charismatic, Max obnoxiously flirty.
And she was just…constant, through it all. Upbeat, grinning, encouraging to every single average word that my friends told her.
And then she was looking at me, offering her hand. My head shook slightly as if to unscramble my consciousness. I glanced between her hand, her own gaze, unsure of what to do or say. I had been too busy watching. I barely brought myself out of that entrapped stare before my name came fumbling out of my mouth.
“Oliver.”
She seemed a little put off, taken aback, after I blatantly ignored her outstretched hand. But, I didn’t want to shake it. I was afraid that, if I touched it, she might shock me, sting me, scorch me with that bleeding sunshine she seemed to have sticking to her skin.
Besides, I couldn’t trust her, right? Right.
I turned my head away, feeling somewhat ashamed for the way I brushed her off. There was a rejected twinkle in her eyes, one that I could not handle. Moving on from that interaction, or in an attempt to do so, I tilted my chin down, glazing my eyes to the concrete. I shrunk beneath the cover of my hood. I didn’t need to feel bad for anything. I didn’t even know her, nor did she know me.
As the others finished up with their exchange of greetings, the group itself began making its way back to the Uber, with Sam and Daisy now a part of the flow.
The car ride back was objectively short, though it felt longer than the time on Apple Maps said. I rode in the back with the guys, pressed up against the door due to the lack of space. My long knees jutted out awkwardly. The bone of my leg ached from knocking against the door with each bump in the road that the car hit.
I stared out of the window, hoping the painful time would pass quicker. The ugliness of London stared back at me. A small, curious part of me kept darting my eyes towards the front seat, where she sat. But I stilled my gaze on the city.
That was maybe part of the issue- I just didn't understand why Daisy was so interested in visiting this place anyways. It was boring, bland. I associated the cloudy gray skies and rainy summers with some of the worst times of my life. This city looked the way I felt for most of it, too. The people were shit, too. Rude, always in a rush, unforgiving and untrustworthy.
What adventure could one find in this wet, concrete maze of hell?
Bored, I moved my attention back to the interior of the car, still resisting that urge to look forward. Adam, Cy, Sam, and Max were a cacophony of lost conversation, catching up, rumbling laughter. I listened for a moment, intently awaiting her to throw in her two sense. She seemed like the type to talk somebody’s ear off. Perhaps I could read between her sentences, find out her motives, her intentions, find something to use against her, so I could easily hate her and put distance between us-
Oh.
She was sleeping.
Her body was slumped against the door, neck pillow twisted around to support her forehead from the glass of the window. She cradled her hands to her stomach, the blanket she had just up underneath her chest.
The curve of her face caught my eye the most, the simple stillness of the lines around her lips, the peaceful flutter that ruffled her lashes every so often. I wondered what she dreamt of- rainbows, sunshine, lollipops. I bet she was the type of person who would respond, "World peace," when asked what she would wish for if she had a genie.
God. I really was an asshole. Here was this stranger, this beautiful, seemingly kind stranger, trying to catch up on sleep after traveling nearly 20 hours…and here I was, creating an entire persona around the two facts I actually knew about her. Maybe I should give her a chance, like the guys said. Maybe I should let her in, even if it was barely past the surface, and try to be amicable.
Maybe she wouldn’t sell my name to the paparazzi. Maybe she wouldn’t leak photos of me online, or call news sites to gain traction on social media.
I nearly flinched as she shifted in her slumber, so lost in my thoughts that the disruption was a panic. Her lips parted, just so, as air deflated from her lungs. The hair that curled around her face ruffled from the gentle gust.
Though she looked like Sam, she really was beautiful. Sure, Sam was attractive, in his own way. But, uniquely, Daisy was…honestly, gorgeous, all doe-eyed, rose lips, freckled cheeks.
I kept staring at her, analyzing, accidentally memorizing.
As I felt myself sinking, into my seat, into myself, into this stare I had on her, I straightened up, shoved myself back in the door.
The poor girl wasn’t even awake.
And I was being far too open.
When we reached the hotel, everyone piled out of the Uber. I went to step out, myself, to begrudgingly helped with luggage. But after I cast a casual glance over my shoulder, I noticed Daisy was still asleep. As though she were his responsibility, I found Sam and went to vocalize the issue with him. But he was busy with their bags.
None of the others were really familiar enough with her to consider her.
No one but me, I guess, because I was reaching out my fingers, touching her shoulder, telling her, "We're here."
I swept myself away before she could wake up and look me in the eyes. - "Where's your sister?" Cy inquired, poking at his dish with the fork in his hold.
Sam shrugged as he continued shoveling french fries in his mouth. "Sleeping, I think. She was fucking exhausted. Could barely get herself to bed this morning.”
"Poor girl," Max pouted his bottom lip. "Has she ever traveled this far from home?"
"Nope."
"Damn. Good for her, then. It's hard to just leave everything behind, to leave your everyday life for this type of thing for this long," Max continued.
I listened intently, though I made it seem like I wasn't even conscious of the guys seated at the table with me. Where they thought I was mindlessly stirring my drink, I was reading between the lines of every vague fact Sam dropped about Daisy.
"Well," he held a hand before his mouth as he chewed, swallowed. He sat back as he began to unload more information about his sister, "No offense to her, but she doesn't have much of a life. She works, like, two-three jobs at any given time. She works at some clinic during the day, waits tables in the evening, then does some stuff on campus here and there."
"Shit. Hope she's taking care of herself," Adam commented, thoughtfully.
"She does. I think. I don't know. We don't really get much time together anymore. Ever since mom died...I don't know. It's been hard to stay connected."
"This summer's gonna be good, then, for you guys to get to see each other," Cy touched Sam’s wrist with his fist, encouraging our friend with his response.
"Yeah," Sam's eyes seemed a little distant then, like there were foggy memories, regrets clouding his consciousness, "Yeah, I hope so."
Max went to speak again when Sam's phone went off. He pulled it out, scrolling through the texts he'd received. "Speak of the devil."
Sure enough, Daisy came padding into the hotel bar. Her hair was damp, twisted up behind her head by some clip. Her features were more prominent this way, skin shining with the care she must have just put into it. As she approached us, her perfume breezed off her skin, off her stupid Taylor Swift hoodie, right past my nose.
It smelled so sweet that I had to look away, focus on something else.
Everyone else greeted her, asking about how she slept, how she felt. I was inattentive, attempting to make it seem like I hadn’t just been thrown off balance.
I needed to do something, say something to her, to be welcoming. To make it seem like I wasn’t such a dickhead, even though I pretty much was. So, I worked on some phrases in my head, hoping to catch her in a side conversation, so there wasn’t so much tension with the others listening in. But, she walked out of the bar as quickly as she'd come.
I found the air to be cooler without her occupying the space.
I shivered and turned my chin towards that freeze.
-
Later that evening, I found myself on the hotel roof.
It was one of my favorite spots, no matter which city we were passing through, which state I found myself to be stuck in. I could go up to the highest floor, even if it wasn’t too far off of the ground, tune out the stress that came with work, and relax into the peace and quiet.
It was one of the healthier coping mechanisms my therapist and I had been working on. I was an antisocial person, to say the least. And when I’d had to be around others for too long, working literal overtime to just function like a normal person, I’d become irritable, withdrawn.
So, stalking off in the late hours of the evening with a book in my hand and some lyrics in my head became a usual, practiced ritual that I was comforted by, especially on tours.
The breeze of London flew past my face, braising goosebumps on my neck. I tucked my chin into my hoodie more. There were these tiki lights, all around me and the intimate seating area I occupied, but the little bits of light did nothing to help me see the book in my hands.
I tucked it away after straining for a few moments and settled on just resonating with myself for a bit. I watched the flames of the fire pit before me, listened to it crackle and pop. I was so focused on the peacefulness, that I hadn’t even noticed the elevator ding, nor the person scuffling across the concrete of the roof.
In fact, I didn’t even notice her until she was sitting across from me, these little alcohol bottles in her hands. The movement of her sitting before me flitted my gaze up, edges of my vision blurred slightly from the intensity of the flames. My hearing focused after. There was music streaming from the speakers on her phone, some Taylor Swift song I didn't recognize. I withheld the urge to roll my eyes and studied her movements.
She read the label on the mini shot of Jack Daniels with squinted eyes. I'd never seen someone pay so much attention to a simple liquor Maybe she'd never drank it before. That would be a strange fact, considering she was 23. Every 23 year old I knew had gone through every liquor known to man. Then, she drank it and I realized why she was so observant. Her face turned up in this grimace, lips puckered, brows furrowed. She just couldn't handle her liquor. Her examination of the bottle was really just a hesitance to consume it in the first place.
I stifled a laugh and instead found my words, urged to tease her for this occurrence, "Gonna share?' Maybe I should have intruded her peace more gently, or maybe I should have said something sooner than I did. Either way, I had spooked her enough that she jumped.
Her once shocked grimace twisted into a deep frown, like she was annoyed I had disturbed her. "How long have you been sitting there?"
My grin widened, though it didn't seem like she found much humor in the situation. "Long enough to know you can't take a shot." I held out my hand, awaiting her to hand over one of the bottles. She didn't do that Instead, her face hardened a bit and she made another comment, “Sorry I’m not an alcoholic. If you want one, you have to come get it, by the way. I’m comfy now.”
I was taken back by her crudeness. Everyone said she was so kind, so sweet. I'd even overheard her niceties earlier, at the airport, at the bar. Had I done something?
Instead of setting the record straight, communicating, though, I became defensive to her jabs. As I reached for one of the bottles, I said, "Comfy with this trash music playing?"
Funnily enough, this made her face sink more, if at all possible. Her frown was deep as a river, and murky as one, too, "Real men listen to Taylor Swift."
I tried another joke, hoping it would salvage the wreckage we were feeding, "Hey, haven't you heard? I'm a vessel, not a man?"
I don't know if it did, but she at least continued speaking to me. "So, vessel, what are you doing up here? Can't sleep?"
I tossed my hand in her direction, speaking with my casual satire, "Obviously." I looked away from her, breathless. I was trying so hard, so incredibly hard to seem careless, chill. I didn’t know why I couldn’t just, actually, genuinely not give a fuck.
I reached for my cigarettes, too stressed out to handle a head that was some sober from nicotine. After a long drag, I felt that familiar buzz of a clear head, the temporary reduction of anxiety.
Cigarettes were always a killer ice breaker, helpful in even the toughest, most awkward conversations. So, when my eyes popped back open and met hers, I offered a hit.
If her face had been disgusted before, it was even more so now. "That's okay, thanks," she almost sneered.
I pursed my lips. Okay, I wasn't the only one killing this conversation. She acted like she was just too good for anything that I had to do with. Like if she were to take a drag from this cigarette, she'd be infected with my sickness.
I voiced the concern with my snide tone again. Her response nearly made me choke on my own spit, “More like my mom died of lung cancer because she smoked for thirty years.”
As quick as possible, I stomped the butt into the ground. "Sorry."
She hummed some sort of response, looking away so uncomfortably. I wanted to grovel, to beg for her forgiveness in the case of such a small moment of misunderstanding, but I settled on another painful jab at a nice conversation.
“I’d ask what you’re doing up, but I figured you wouldn’t be able to sleep after the day you had.” She responded in that same dry tone, "Yeah, no."
Annoyed, I began to wonder where all this sweetness had gone. Earlier, with the guys, she had spoken like she'd known them for forever. Here, with me- she acted like I'd spit in her coffee this morning, like I was holding her at gun point just to have this conversation.
I gave up on trying to be overly considerate and shot straight to the point. I wanted answers anyways, and now I had a good reason to search for them, "What's your deal, Daisy?"
"What the fuck does that mean?" She responded.
I shrugged as I crossed my arms over my chest. What did she want it to mean? "Why are you here?" Instead of just answering the question, she countered me, echoing the question. Good fucking game, Daisy Hallett. Good fucking game.
I stretched my body out as I thought, unsure of how to answer. What was I here for? To do my job, obviously. So, I told her that. But, I should have known she would pry deeper. That were her job, after all, to observe, analyze, pry.
“That’s not what you’re here for,” She rejected my words, shaking her head just slightly, “That’s what everyone else is here for. What about you, Oliver?”
I started making music for myself, not anyone else. In the darkest, most terrible parts of my life, it had gotten me through to the other side with ease. It was my biggest coping skill, sitting at a clear number one on the list my therapist and I had outlined.
Getting paid for it, getting to tour and travel cities…that was all a plus. Touring, performing itself, were two things I was still trying to get used to. It was awesome to get to play my music life for others, to help them through to the other side, but it was sometimes…overwhelming, a hard pill to swallow.
So, I answered honestly this time, “To…worship. To celebrate my music, myself…life.”
She was impressed by this answer, pleased, and I could tell this by the stretch of her lips. That sweet, enticing smile did something to me.
As she held up the shot bottle in a gesture to cheers, I returned the smirk. We danced on the edge of some invisible line.
"To life."
I wanted to hear more of her voice, more of...her, more about her. So, I scrambled and said, "Wait, what about you?"
“There’s no deeper meaning to anything I do,” she waved me off.
I understood her more in this moment than I sometimes understood the people closest to me. She was like- she was insecure, she was scared. She was a little kid with monsters under her bed and in her closet.
So, I affirmed her existence with words that seemed so simple, yet would have meant so much for me to hear, too. “Oh, Daisy, there’s always deeper meaning to everything humans do. Think. What’s yours?”
This threw her off balance, yet somehow kept her from falling off the edge. It made the gears in her head turn, made her question her own thoughts. "I guess…I guess…to find that deeper meaning. To find what I’m looking for, maybe.”
She still didn't seem too sure, but I knew that, once this summer ended, once the leaves turned brown, and she returned back to a place called home, she would know it in her bones.
And I think, maybe, I might know it, too.
Sooner, rather than the later that I hoped for, we were in the elevator. Hours of breathless conversation sat, stale in the air on the roof, abandoned as the steel doors trapped us in silence.
The more she told me, the more terrified I was of her very existence. She was smarter than me, and very good at returning snide comments. Her wit was so profoundly intelligent, that I found myself silenced on more than one occasion.
Above all this- she was a disruption- she was chaos. She made me think differently, harder. She made me laugh.
I was drawn in by all of this, by her eyes, by the way the corners of her pink lips curled up into her cheeks. It took me a second to realize that she was staring back up at me, that our shoulders were turning to face one another, that my fingers were grazing the sleeve of her hoodie.
"You're very pretty, Daisy," the words fell out in a dangerous whisper. I loved the way she blushed, the way the tip of her nose scrunched, and she fell back onto her heels a bit.
I would have kissed her, I knew that for sure, had the elevator doors not opened up, had we not parted ways there, in the barren hallways. And I would have sought her out, would have reached for a simple phone number, another moment on the roof, another conversation about life and college and her favorite fucking color...
had I not made it back to my room and looked myself in the eye, through the smudged reflection of the bathroom mirror. The painful eye contact brought me back down to Earth, reminded me of the ugliness swirled up inside my chest, the bitter desire of my own self interest, selfishness.
I was...I was the chaos. I was the disruption. Here was this beautiful, interesting, smart girl...and here was me, this man-giant, who could barely hold a conversation without feeling like he was going to have a panic attack. Besides all that, her brother was my fucking best friend. I was his boss.
This was territory that I could not enter, not without a guilty conscience and someone's broken heart. So, I would proceed with caution, although it ended up making me seem like the worst person in the world.
-
I knew I could no longer keep up the act only a few weeks in, all thanks to Whitney Houston and this stupid pink fucking dress.
I watched her parade herself all night, guzzling drinks like they were air, batting her stupidly prim and perfect eyelashes my way. She knew exactly how to get me going- how to lock me in, most of all. And I was playing right into the fucking game, weak signs and Achilles heels all exposed from the second that she stepped out of that hotel room.
When I saw that knowing, vivacious smirk- I knew tonight would be different.
It wasn't until she was passed out, in my bed, with my hoodie on, that I realized I was falling for her. I had been able to subside the hunger that I felt, the hunger I felt to speak to her, to consume her with my eyes, my teeth, my hands, my body- God. It was easy to push all these thoughts away when she wasn't there- but then, she'd show up at breakfast or dinner or in my dreams and thoughts and desperations and I'd spiral again.
It didn't help that I was letting it get to me so much- and she was literally trained in analyzing behavior. I exposed my curiosities with even the slightest dip in my gaze or lift in my shoulders. There was a moment, during breakfast, when she told us of her plans for the evening of one our first shows- that she wasn't coming to.
Max had to go and make a stupid joke when I just barly glanced up from my plate, "Even Ollie's hurt!" I stopped coming to so many social gatherings, at least where she was concerned. And, then, I got all the space I needed when we took off on the buses.
Everyone flocked to her side, wanting even a second of her attention, while I kept to myself on the other bus. Because I thought the guys might leave me alone about it, I could almost reside in absolute peace.
But, then, Ronnie came knocking on my bunk.
It was early morning. We were stopped for gas, somewhere in Northern Italy. The bus was deadly silent, with nothing but my own quiet breath and the hum of the outside world to keep e company. Ronnie came in, bounding, like she always did. She slammed the bus door shut, jarring me from the focus I'd had on the game of Mario Kart pulled up on my Switch. Next thing I knew, she was ripping open the curtain to my bunk.
"Why the fuck are you rotting in here like a mummy? I'm close to wrapping you up in toilet paper and shoving you in with the suitcases!"
I rolled my eyes as she spoke and slouched my shoulders away. The hood of my sweatshirt dipped enough that she was no longer in my view. "Sam needs to stop gassing up your jokes. It's getting to your head."
"You're literally just jealous because your jokes are only ever mean and borderline tone-deaf," Ronnie grabbed the lip of my hood and tugged it down over my face.
I wriggled away from her, Switch dropping towards the inside of the bunk. I shoved her hands away. "Says you, Miss Jimmy Carr."
Ronnie's jaw jutted open a bit, "Now that's fucked, Ollie."
I went to jab back again, but she held up a hand, head tilted like she was a tired, annoyed mother of a band of men babies. "Stop while you're ahead, dude. Back to what I came in to harass you about- you need to come join us! We're playing Mario Kart with peaches- Daisy, sorry. You guys would get along sooo great. I know you're, like, weird about new people, but she's so fucking funny. Please, please just come over, hang out, be chill for once in your life."
Peaches. They had given her a nickname. Peaches, as if she weren't already sweet enough to sour the cuts on my skin.
I huffed and puffed at the rant as I pulled my hood down the back of my head. "First of all, I don't play Mario Kart-"
"I literally hear the music coming from your Switch," Ronnie pointed with a dead stare at the device, muffled humming rumbling from beneath my blanket.
I met her eye, absent any shame of my white lie. I took a breath and dove back into my rejection, "Second of all, why the hell do you guys give out the cringiest, most ridiculous nicknames? Like, peaches?What even is that?"
"It's called joy, magic, and fun, you grinch," Ronnie pinched my elbow. I flinched away from her touch again and she snickered. "If you don't like Daisy, just say so. I won't tell anybody. I'll just resent and judge you in silence- silent words, not punches."
What did she mean, that I didn't like Daisy? I knew I'd been passive towards her, but I never made it so obvious-
The expression on my face must have read confusion or shock because Ronnie popped a hip and crossed her arms.
"Listen," she added, "I know that she probably irks you. I get it. You're the bad boy, dark soul type and she's this ray of fucking sunshine and, yes, peaches. Just- give her a chance before you rain all over her parade."
"I literally never said I had a fucking problem with her. Why does everyone think I hate her guts when I've literally only ever had one conversation with her?" I frustratedly spoke, words rushed together. Ronnie stood back a second, reading the scrunch of my brows, the way I pushed myself up onto my elbows. Then, her offended frown morphed into something knowing, as though bits of information clicked in her head.
"Oh," she rhythmed, grinning now, "I see what's going on here. Hey, she's gorgeous.” "Oh, my God, here we go," I stood from my bunk, now, unwilling to just lay there and listen to her try to evaluate my behavior.
Ronne didn't follow me as I made my way to the back room, "Ollie...just remember who you are. And who she is."
And this sentence alone threw me for the biggest loop.
I didn't even know what she meant by that, but as well I knew Ronnie...it was definitely more than met the eye, deeper than any surface level warning anybody else could give. Not only did I know Ronnie well, but she could read me like a book. She knew what to say to make my skin crawl. Who I am...who Daisy is.
Analyzing the statement from top to bottom, general to specific, it was simple. She was my best friend’s brother. And I was his boss.
It meant more than that, though.
Ronnie meant that Daisy…Daisy was delicate. Daisy was meat, fresh off a shattered bone, and I was a hound.
I was always the hound. The Albatross, even. A winged creature always coming in to swipe shiny things off of stormy shores.
Ronnie didn’t want to harm me with the statement, but she sure as hell wanted to humble me. And that she did.
Each time I found myself aching to find Daisy’s gaze, I’d shrink back into myself. Remember my place. Remember who I was.
And, then…that damn Whitney Houston song. That damn pink dress.
Ronnie knew I was slipping, when I first spotted Daisy, in the doorway of her hotel room, long legs on display. I caught my lips beginning to party, drool beginning to pool in my teeth. This appreciative smirk came upon my face until I met Ronnie’s frown.
And I moved on.
I kept trying to move on, to fly away, leave the gold necklace on the beach for some other lucky, hopeless idiot to clean the sand off of, treasure for the rest of their sorry days.
I paid for her meal, as some sort of reparation for the damage I must’ve done all evening, being the hungry being I was while she toyed with the lock on my cage.
But, I just couldn’t . Especially not when she was running from the bar, sickness visible on her face. I could’ve left it where it was- Max was shuffling after her, ready to help, ready to hold her hair up.
Before I knew it, my feet were racing me out of the door, my hand was on Max’s shoulder, a kind smile was reassuring him that I could handle it, that he could go back to having fun.
My hands were in her hair, my neck was cradling the crown of her head, she was reaching for my wallet, letting us into the hotel room, laying down on my bed. I was giving her my hoodie, placing a bandage on her leg, caressing her fruity skin.
And then…just like that, as quickly as the rain began, like when you can see it in sheets, pounding into the Earth, just there, off in the distance…then it’s splattering on your windshield, the sound jarring you from your tired drive, the blur harming your vision of the road.
It was raining in my hotel room.
I didn’t have an umbrella.
I spent the entire night, laying there on the bed beside her, faced away, tensed up. Every breath she took stopped my heart. Every wrinkle from the white sheets made my eyes blink.
I was spending so much of my thought process trying to remember the taste of her fleeting lips on my own, pressing my fingers to them as though they were stained from her, as though I could close my eyes and taste them, again and again and again.
Then, in the morning, she returned my hoodie. There was this…look…this distant, worried look. Had she remembered? Had she remembered the words I said? Was this going to change anything? Everything? At breakfast, I ignored her persistent eyes, the gaze burning into my soul for answers. When she told us she couldn’t remember anything, I was little relieved.
If she didn’t remember, I could put distance between us, try to forget it myself- try to forget the way her fingers buried themselves into my hair. Try to forget the feel of her nose, pressed into my cheek, her chest, warm against my own.
While I was able to put physical distance between us this week, being that work kept us busy. But, the mental, emotional yards were harder to climb.
Once we made it through the airport, to Italy, I began my practice of celibacy, against the thoughts of her, against us.
I think part of me knew it wouldn’t last. I think part of me didn’t want it to. I think that’s why I was there- in the elevator, headed for the roof, in hopes that I might find her there. I didn’t even know if it was a place she frequented, but my intuition told me it was a good place to look.
And I was right.
I acted shocked when I first saw her, like it didn’t help my blood pump, seeing her, feet in the water, hair curling around her forehead.
She looked so…tense. Stressed. There was this permanent furrow in her brow. Did she really not remember…anything? At all?
Though it was a relief, I wanted to jog her memory (I wanted to kiss her).
I asked Daisy, barely glancing over at her in the seat beside me. From the corner of my eye, I watched her chew upon on her bottom lip, “Not really.”
Why did it feel like a lie?
She must’ve remembered something. Sure, she had been drinking, but…she was smarter than that. “Okay,” I choked, snatching another look at her.
I noticed Daisy turn her chin to return the gaze and I looked back at the city. I couldn’t look into her eyes, look at her face. I’d crumble.
“Is there something I should be remembering?”
It was timid, shy. But bold.
Bolder than I could bring myself to be right now.
Unable to find my own words, unable to form my own lie, I echoed her.
“Okay,” she copied.
The moment swelled in my mind. I wanted- needed her to remember. I wanted her to feel the ache in my bones at the thought of our lips pressed together. Wanted her to feel the longing Maybe then, she’d be the one to break, and I could blame it on her. Make her out to be the bad guy, going after me.
What a fucked up thing to think about.
Before I could catch myself, I blurted, “You don’t remember-“
At the same time, she went to push further on the topic.
I excused myself, motioned for her to continue. But, of course, she let me go instead.
“You don’t remember coming back to the hotel?”
I knew I was confusing her.
“Not really. you’re sure there’s nothing you want to tell me? Something important I should be remembering?” her knuckles, clasped together, were turning white.
I shrugged and pretended to be unaware, “I don’t think so.”
“Why did you tell me to come sit with you?”
She really knew how to make a guy question his own thought patterns. It would make her a really great therapist- but it just made me want to run.
To hide. To slip away from this disruption in my damaged peace.
I sighed, thoughtful, though still unsure, “I don’t know. Thought it would be nice. Like when we were in London-“
“Like when we were in London and you proceeded to pretend like we never did this? Like when we were in London and you kept interrupting me, so I couldn’t tell everyone we had been up on the roof together?”
So, she was pissed.
I knew she would be. She acted like she didn’t care, but I saw through the disguise. It reminded me of me.
I shrugged, putting on the same play, “Like that.”
I guess that was the comment that sent her off the edge, though. She was too guarded, too respectful of herself to take the bullshit I pushed. “I’m gonna go to bed.”
That wasn’t it for me. I needed to know what she knew. She obviously remembered more than she was letting on.
I slid into the elevator behind her, “Daisy-“
I swear to God, the rhythm of her breathing palpitated when I said her name-
“I need you to be honest with me. What do you remember?”
“Oh, cause you’re such a conscientious person yourself?”
I pulled at my hair, stressfully, “I really don’t think we’re on the same page right now, Daisy. Please, if we could just talk about this, if you could just tell me what you remember-“
Gears seemed to click in her brain. Something I said, the way I moved, the flash of the stars in her eyes, something had triggered a memory in her head. Something suddenly made sense.
I tried to help, though I was probably just being an asshole. “I want to figure this out, okay?”
I wanted to figure her out.
Whatever clicked was- it fucked things up.
“Oliver,” she frowned, “I can’t play this game with you.”
Game?
What game?
I was only ever playing defense- keeping to myself, keeping her away from my heart, trying to maintain distance. She had kissed me- I was the one to turn her away.
My shoulders fell, “What game? Daisy…I’m confused!”
“So am I, Oliver!”
Fuck. The way she said my name-
“I’m- you’re fucking with my head!”
Like she wasn’t fucking with mine?!
I went back to my original question, hoping to continue digging there, instead of worrying about this new hole she was unburying, “What do you remember?”
“It doesn’t matter, Oliver! I just don’t want to do this with you. Max is right. I should listen to him.” What the fuck did Max say? Why was he involving himself in this? How did he even know about- us- when we didn’t even- what?
What was happening?
“I’m not doing this with you.”
The doors opened, and she was leaving me. In her dust. In the swell of her words.
I retreated back to my room, throat tight, chest contracting for any gulp breath I could get. I fell back against the door like there were bullet holes bleeding out of my chest. I wanted to just...be honest. To be honest with her. Tell her what I really thought, what really happened, how I felt about her.
It wasn't the boundaries holding me back now. All my senses of morality and respect for our situation were dead. It was me. I was the iceberg. I was the gun.
I found my way to the bed, lay there like an empty casket. Dead, hollow, shards of wood. Why was I so afraid of her?
Maybe she'd be good for me...better than the last relationship I had, that much I could already tell. But, maybe she didn't want me for that.
Maybe she wanted to scalp me for my money, for my fame, dish out the gossip to the tabloids. Maybe she wanted to love me.
Maybe I deserved something good. Maybe I deserved to take a risk on something. Maybe I needed to. I was outside her door, before I was really conscious to my own movements, knocking, waiting. For barely a second.
She was opening the door, standing there in this barren light like an angel.
"Daisy."
I was kissing her.
Whatever she wanted, whatever she needed, whatever cruel fate she may prophesize or goodness she may expose to my paled skin- I didn't care.
Because she was kissing me.
-
I hadn’t been with someone for over a year.
That was what was so jarring about the entire situation.
It made me cautious, held me back. I’d been on a dating ban since I switched to my new therapist, who wanted me to focus on myself more than I always did on another person.
And for a while, it was going well.
Until Daisy disrupted that.
I knew, for as long as she was alive, breathing my air, I just could never be alone.
Usually, when I dated someone, when I was with them…I still felt that loneliness because I would give so much. And that person never returned it.
Daisy did, by a tenfold. She was…present. She so easily showed up, made time for me, chased me down when I went into those bouts of self isolation.
It was difficult to let her in…to let her join me in the dark.
But she made it feel less lonely. She made me feel…whole.
I started going to breakfast more often, started including myself in the group activities. Not only did she make me feel less alone, but she made me feel like I needed human connection.
“It’s warm, isn’t it?”
I scoffed at my therapist’s words, so simple for something so complex. “Warm. It’s hot. I feel like I’m on fire.”
“Good. Burn,” she responded. “You’re in the light now, Oliver. How do you feel about it?”
“Wow, what a question,” I teased.
Dr. Grime sighed heavily, crossing her arms over her chest. The movement was delayed, due to the time zone different, the laggy wifi in the hotel room. “Seriously, Oliver. Is it…do you feel like you want to snuff it out?”
“Of course I do,” I shuffled on my bed, “you know me. Something good comes and I feel like I don’t deserve it. But…I think it might be okay if I hang around in this for a while.”
“I think so, too,” she smiled. “I like how your language has changed, too. You’d tell me, ‘I don’t deserve this.” Now you say, you feel like you don’t deserve it. You’re recognizing rational thoughts from emotional ones. That’s very important. I’m proud of you.”
I offered a strained smile in response, uncomfortable with her praise. It was appreciated, though, and gave me body a sense of accomplishment.
Maybe I was getting better.
“So, this Daisy,” she leaned forward, more intrigued with the personal aspect of my love life, like some maternal figure.
I chuckled, shaking my head approvingly, “Daisy.”
“Do you…love her?” Dr. Grime poked.
I blushed, deeply, but quickly shoved the thought away, “Oh, no. No way. I…I barely know her. That’s- that’s crazy. Definitely not. No.”
My phone dinged in rhythm with the end of my sentence. It was her.
Daisy: soon as sam goes to bed, i can be over
My eyes lingered on the text, more concerned with this situation now than the accusatory, knowing tone of my therapist’s words.
“Mm,” she paused, “no, of course. So, is this just…a casual summer fling for you? A way to get over everything this, figure out what it is you want out of a relationship? It’s important to have something like this, a stable ground to work up off of for the future, considering you don’t have a great idea as to what love should be like.”
“Maybe,” I shrugged, toying with my phone. I stared at the message, reading and rereading the message again and again.
What…was this.
What was this to me?
What was this…to her?
We’d established some boundaries, mostly that I couldn’t really commit to anything to serious. And she said that had been okay.
Was I still okay with that?
Was that still what I wanted?
I was so obviously falling in love with her, but I would never tell anybody that.
Especially not her.
But it didn’t matter if I loved her- did I want her that way? Did I want this to last past the summer?
I did.
And that’s what scared me the most.
Loving her beyond the swept up dream we were caught in, back home, domestically. Loving her casually, routinely, in the kitchen back in my apartment, through school, sharing plants and bath towels.
I wanted that.
I wanted her…her ends and odds.
I lied, “No. I don’t want that right now. Got tour going on, new album soon. You know. Busy.”
Long after therapy ended, I stared at the message. The sun had set, the day had died…and I just couldn’t think of anything to say.
I think if I were to be around her right now, I might blurt out some passionate, mindless thing that I couldn’t bring us back from.
I needed to do…what I always did. Be alone. Ruminate in my thoughts in the darkness of a foreign hotel room in a strange city. All alone.
This felt…easier. Comfortable. What I was good at.
Yeah…this was easier.
The next day, I couldn’t stay from her any longer.
I needed her and she was needed that, too- however we could get each other.
So I pushed aside the feelings I had for her- put up all my walls and boundaries, and took her into my arms-
We would have this summer, even if it killed us.
–
"Hiya, Ollie, dear!"
My mother's voice was a sweet symphonic sound to my tired ears. We were in near opposite time zones, hundreds of miles apart, and I missed her more than anything. Touring usually took everything out of me and she was the one, separate, stable person I could turn to.
We'd only called once or twice the past few months due to my obsessed perversions with a certain best friend's sibling who had been taking up all of my time- not that I was complaining about who.
It was only recently that my mom and I had established such good rapport. Since I was young, she'd struggled to wrap her head around my career choices. Now that I was fully devoted to the act, and quite successful, she pushed aside her disagreement with it and chose to just keep supporting me.
Though I couldn't always answer, her calls were welcome.
"Hi, mum," I sat up in the hotel bed, my back sighing in gratitude at the change in posiiton. i had been rotting in here for a few hours, a little bored since Daisy was out with her friend. I could've went and hung with the guys, but I honestly needed some time to myself. That time was starting to really feel like loneliness, though. I guess before I met Daisy, they were empty hours full of empty feelings. Now, I was waking up to the reality of my existence. I'd made it so dull.
"Are you in Paris yet? Or are you still travelling?"
"We made it a few days ago," I replied. “Show’s tomorrow."
"Oh, I love Paris," she remarked. I could hear her lovely grin through the tone of her words. "I remember when we went there on a school holiday. My favorite part was the Eiffel Tower. It's so big. Now, I hear that it sparkles. You'll have to take a photo for me."
"Sure, mum."
"Have you gotten out much or are you holing up in your hotel room?"
Sheepishly, I scratched my neck. My response was delayed a bit; we both knew the answer. “Uh...I’m getting out there. Ya know, hanging out.”
“Ugh, Ollie,” I could nearly hear the roll of her eyes through the phone. “You know need a lady friend. Someone to drag you out of your bed. I mean, how many times do you get to see Paris. And get paid for it!”
At the mention of a ‘lady friend,’ I blushed. I hadn’t gotten a chance to tell her about Daisy, and damn did I want to. Though we weren’t even officially together. I didn’t know how to explain that to my mom, so maybe I’d just shy away from the topic, talk about something else.
But I guess my lapse of silent thinking made her think that there already was a lady friend.
“Oh?” she questioned with a cheerful lace to her tone. I didn’t say anything, my brain was unable to come up with anything in response. Acting defensive always made people think the opposite of what I said. Should I just tell her? Get it out of the way? Let her lecture me about my poor choices.
“Well, I won’t badger you. When you're ready,” she was already responding.
I was surprised that she was going to leave it there, to say the least, which only furthered my sentence. She usually pushed until I gave her some semblance of the truth. As she was getting older, I’d realized she gotten more relaxed and didn’t push as much as she used to. I think it was partially due to the guilt she felt for everything between us growing up.
So, I just went to move the subject along when she jumped back on it, “Just- please don’t tell me it’s that Fiona girl. I’m so sorry if it is. I just can’t sit around and watch you be treated so poorly by someone so...so awful. Again. Her personality is just- wow. Though, I shouldn’t be surprised. I went to school with her mum, and she was awful towards me. Apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree-”
I had to stop her while she was ahead. I guess some things never really, truly changed. "Mum, please! I’m not seeing Fiona again, I promise. I’m not...”
I wasn’t offended that she thought I was. It was just...more or so shocking. Shocking that she thought I’d put myself back in that. I had, a handful of times before. But...I was different now.
I guess she hadn't been around me these past few months, but I had truly changed. This past May’s Oliver very well could’ve let Fiona waltz back into his life. But July’s Oliver? He would’ve been hesitant.
And, even more so- Daisy’s Oliver...Daisy’s Oliver was a changing man. Daisy’s Oliver was a better man.
And I wanted to tell my mum that, I decided. She needed to know- it would ease her mind, along with my own. I know she was always worried for me. So, I told her-
“No, I’m seeing someone else. Her name...her name’s Daisy,” that felt good to admit, to put into the Universe, that I was seeing her, and she was seeing me, even if there were no labels attached.
“Daisy?” she perked up at the name. “That’s a pretty name. What’s she look like? You got any pictures you can text me?”
I realized quickly that I didn’t. In the near two months that we had been sleeping together, consuming one another’s souls, we hadn’t taken a single picture. It was probably for the best, just in case they somehow fell into the wrong hands. But- there were so many moments I could’ve- should’ve- captured. Moments of Daisy, hair whipping past her face on the roof, the lights of Italy glowing behind her like she had angelic wings. Daisy, in my hotel room, in the early morning before she had to sneak away. Tired eyes and an even more exhausted smile as she laughed at something stupid, I’d done in my sleep.
I wanted one. I wanted a picture of her, a picture of us, whatever I could get.
For now, all I had was my memories to help me describe her to my mum. It was easy to do so, considering she was etched into the very nerves in my mind.
“No, I don’t,” I breathed out, “but she’s beautiful. She’s got this-this- God, I can’t even describe her to you. Her hair’s darker, like yours. She’s got these brown eyes. Shorter than me, of course. You can always tell it’s her, though, just by the way she carries herself. She’s got this energy. You’d just have to see it to believe it.”
“She sounds amazing, Ollie,” she sighed distantly then giggled, “Well, if she’s so pretty, where are the pictures? I need to see her! Need to see what this talk is all about.”
I chuckled in response, “I know, I know. I suck.”
“It’s alright. I’m sure it’s difficult, with you on tour and her...what does she do, exactly? Where is she from? Would I know her?”
Here came the long winded, shameful explanation of everything between Daisy and me. The feelings that weren’t feelings, the girl who wasn’t mine, the upset sea tumultuous between us. Her brother. Sam.
I tried my best, “Well, she’s working towards her counseling license. So, she goes back to school in the fall. But right now, she’s on tour with us. Her brother works- um...Sam’s her brother. She just wanted to do some traveling before getting tied down for the next few years.”
“Sam? Sam Hatlett? She's his little sister?” There was a bit of shock in her tone now like I imagined there would be. Sam was like a brother to me, and mum knew that. In fact, she loved Sam. She always had.
When she first met him, she’d pulled him under her wing like a mother bird, like she could just feel that he needed her. So, to imagine that I might go after his little sister is rightfully shocking. It was close to home.
“I know, I know. Again, I suck,” I laughed, though I felt so tense. Rubbing my neck didn’t ease the tension in my skin.
“You don't suck, darling. It’s just a precarious situation, I’m sure. How does Sam feel about it all? Was he weird when you first started dating Daisy?”
When I first began to tell my mum about Daisy, I doubted whether or not I wanted to be completely honest. But I easily fell into the comfortability of her warm conversation and realized I could not bend the truth. Not only did she deserve to know it, but she needed to. I knew, too, that she wasn’t going to judge me, tell me I was making a bad decision. It took three times with Fiona for her to begin voicing her opinion.
Above all, I didn't need to jump through any hoops to win her approval. I didn’t have to play a role, fill a part. I was me. And she loved that man.
I realized, subconsciously, that this was how I felt about Daisy, too. Comfortable. Easy.
Loved.
I explained things to my mom, carefully, making sure she knew of the endless boundaries Daisy always ensured we had and the sweet, delicate moments that made everything worth it. I nearly fell into myself, swept up in the reminiscent beauty of it all. God, I missed her, even if it had been only two days since I’d seen her. Her friend Sasha was in town and took up all her time.
I didn’t know what I was expecting my mom to say, so I held my breath after I finished saying, “But, I don’t know. I don’t know if it’s just a summer thing or what. We’re both kinda in weird positions, so we’re not too worried about that, I guess. We’re just...having fun, ya know?”
As the insecurity rose up my throat and choked me out, I sighed out the rest of the air I had in me and added, “We’re not, like, in love or anything.”
I hadn’t expected her to laugh, that’s for sure.
But she laughed. My mum giggled, like things were well and truly hilarious, like I had just told her a joke. I waited there in silence, waiting for her to make fun of me for being so stupid as to let this situation occur. Laugh at me for being terrible at love and life. There goes Oliver again, breaking hearts, getting his heart broken. He can’t even be in a stable relationship! Laugh, laugh, laugh.
She said, “You are crazy, Ollie,” but it wasn’t meant in a harsh manner.
It wasn’t condescending, it wasn’t mean. She wasn’t making fun of me. She was...she was laughing because it was funny.
“You are usually so good at going after things. I mean, look at you with your music, darling. I said no, how many times? I insisted you do something, anything else. I never supported you financially. I never...I never supported you. I was the odds you were testing yourself against and looking at you now! I mean,” her voice cracked. A sniffle followed. My muscles eased from the discomfort I felt into something that wanted to reach for her through the phone, hug her.
“I know your father and I didn’t give you the best example for love. I know we weren’t some movie star-couple that everyone always knew would last forever. We fought. We weren’t there for you when we should have been. Your father left you. And then I held all these stupid expectations up to you, to try to make you better. And you! You’re successful!”
“And I give you all the credit for that. You are...my pride and joy, Ollie. My life. I am so proud of you, darling. But it breaks my heart, still, that you have not been able to find happiness. That you must spend so much time repairing what I broke. We cannot blame everybody else- you can...you can blame me, Ollie. I know I am to blame. And that is okay.”
“So, forgive me for laughing, forgive me for calling you crazy and stupid and wild, darling, but- it's right in front of your face, Ollie! She’s right there in front of you. Daisy. Darling, if you’re still questioning what love is, what it’s supposed to feel like...please let me knock some sense into you! You are wasting so much precious time on believing that it can only leave. It doesn’t have to stay for long for it to be important. If she leaves at the end of the summer, you will regret not telling her.”
I didn’t have to ask her what she meant; what she knew I’d regret not saying. I knew it, I knew it as well as I knew Daisy’s face, even more clear in my memory now.
“You can beat around the bush some more if you’d like, or you can carry on with this facade you’re so deeply transfixed by. Darling, I know it’s hard to let the chaos subside, to let the goodness in, but as I am getting older, I am realizing that it is bright. It is...comfortable. It is good. You deserve to have a lifetime of that. Don’t waste any more time, Ollie. Please tell her, please let her tell you. Please just...hold what you have.”
I had borne a hole into the wall, but snapped out of my still position when I felt a tear roll down the side of my nose. “H-how? How do I tell her?”
“However you need to,” she chuckled lightly. “Although, here’s a hint, Ollie: you are in the City of Love. Take advantage.”
I knew our call was ending and didn’t know when we’d get to speak again. So, like she had told, I took advantage of the moment and I held what I had; “Mum, just so you know,” my voice came out as a whisper, a gentle patter of rain on the roof.
“Yes, Ollie?” she whispered, too, like there was a gentle card deck stacked between us. I think maybe there was- I think there was always some sort of tension lingering from the harsh moments we’d beat into each other; the fighting, the leaving, the crying. I don’t think she ever felt like I’d forgiven her, as if I really needed to. She had been growing up, too, after all.
“I love you, you know that?”
“I know, baby,” I felt relieved that there was a smile in her tone, “now, go. You have some more dreams to chase down. And, Ollie?” “Yeah?”
“Get some pictures for me.”
-
I was lucky that, the next day, everyone was busy with their own plans on opposite sides of the city. So Daisy and I were able to spend some time together, outside of this drywall prison. I was a pretty good listener, too, and remembered all the spots Daisy had gushed about seeing in the little time we’d had together these past few weeks. I was being given the perfect setup to do what I needed to do: we were going to be alone, in the most romantic city on planet Earth. I could finally tell her how I felt.
Of course, so much of me shook with anxiety. What if- she didn’t feel the same way? She didn’t want to risk it? She didn’t want to commit to someone this close to school? Let alone someone who lived across the world from her? These weren't my only fears. There were so many revolving around my career that I could’ve drowned beneath their weight.
Yet, each time I looked at her, I was anchored to her shoes. I couldn’t drift out to sea. I was grounded. Though my fears about how she would react sank, it took another amount of effort to get the words out.
I could’ve done it right away, gotten it out there, cleared the air, so we could enjoy each other even more. That would’ve been the best way: I would've gotten answers, started the day out on the right foot. But, when we got out onto the streets, I was swept up in the busy buzz of the crowds. It was loud in the cafe we grabbed breakfast at, loud on the sidewalks, overly crowded by the river. We finally found a place to sit, breakfast sandwiches and drinks in hand. Though there were still throngs of people all around us. So what good was the City of Love when it was full of ignorant tourists?
The anxiety of what I wanted to do was making me feel grumpy. I shut down a little bit, unable to really engage in much conversation, let alone tell her how I felt. I think it just looked like exhaustion to Daisy, so she didn’t really notice. I did- I was hyperaware of every short sentence, every avoided gaze. All of these people are going to be standing here when I tell her. They’re going to watch her reject me and they’re going to know. They're going to know I’m not good enough. She’s going to walk away from me, leave me stranded in the park, alone with my own rejection and denial. I’m not good enough I’m not good enough.
I thought about what my therapist would tell me, ways to snap myself out of this maladaptive pattern of behavior. My brain lies, she always said. It makes things up, creates false realities based off things others have said to me, or moments of true insecurity rooted in no sense of truth.
Daisy would want me, even if I wasn’t good enough. That was the one assurance I could tell myself to shake off the weary thoughts.
And if she didn’t- well, I don’t think thinking about that was going to help me very much. So, when we got back into the hustle and bustle, shopping around the city, visiting the sights, I opened myself back up.
I didn't know if I’d ever find the confidence. I was on the precipice again, after lunch, when I began spewing cheesy pet names as a sublimation for the words I needed to say. It shocked her at first, hearing such sweet things coming from me. And that stung a little. Was I that monstrous towards her that simple affections made her brows shoot up? Was I that bad? I repeated them once, twice, just so she really knew I meant it.
The day went on and on and I cowered in on myself even more. There were plenty more ample moments, but I just kept letting the clock tick down. I knew we were running out of precious time. If I didn’t tell her now, we would go straight back to secret moments in a hotel room, balancing on a tightrope, pretending like the moment the leaves changed color, we wouldn't be losing each other. I just knew Daisy wanted that about as much as I did.
Just when I was giving up hope, I found my moment, finally. Just after we had stopped to view the Eiffel Tower, some street side scam artist grabbed some pictures of us and was trying to convince me to spend $200 on the copies. At first, I brushed it off, until I caught a small peak at the images on his camera. Before he could spout another line, I was giving him $100. He gave me three photos.
Where my words may fail, these pictures couldn’t. You wouldn’t have to know Daisy and I personally to well and truly and see how infatuated we were with each other. I wasn’t even worried anymore that she wouldn’t want me. I was worried she wouldn’t want the risk, the jump, the caution of a fall.
These would be to convince her to leap. These had to be.
I stopped us outside the hotel, knowing if once we stepped inside, our memories might as well be cleared of the day's events. We would be going back to normalcy, to the real world. Our friends would be waiting there, we would allow the gap between us to grow. I would swallow my words and choke on them.
“I love you,” I pictured myself saying. “I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you, I love you in London, you in Paris, you at home. I love you from the hotel rooms we’ve indented to the streets we’ve wandered. I love you in the plane, on the bus, in every inch of this world.”
But it just wouldn’t come out.
I tried to encourage myself by thinking of who I was just a year ago. By thinking of how I was a year ago, the person I was dating, the situation I was caught up in. Fiona, the endless hours of fighting, of begging. Crying, screaming, the blood sport we played. Hunter and prey, me the victim and yet the one wielding the sword. I thought of Daisy when I first met her. The scent of her in my nostrils, like a clue that I was to hunt for as long as I could run. Of her in my teeth, when I first caught up to her incessant running. The satisfaction I felt, how disgusting that was. How horrible it was that I loved the taste of her blood on my lips.
And how much better I could breathe knowing that I had let go, that I had put my claws away and instead threaded a needle to stitch her skin close. How beautful that was- the beast retracting, the mask falling away. A true creature coming to light, renewed and willing.
Tears welled in my eyes. The words were there, finally, waiting just atop my tongue. She was leaning closer, clutching my hand, clutching those photos like a rosary, like she would sacrifice herself for me. I would, too. I would I would I would I would.
I think I hesitated a moment too soon, or I think she could tell what was happening. I think tha- that, I think that she was running again.
I think she wanted me to chase her or to stop, or she was placing traps in the woods, waiting for the wolf with a bow in arrow.
Because she was pulling away. And our friends were calling our names.
I didn’t have time to think, wrapped up in the swell of the arrival of our friends.
But I felt the death of the moment. It was heavy. It was rotten.
Later, I sat alone in my dressing room before the show, the photo I had kept between my fingers. I swear I could hear her breath, echoing from inside the paper frame of us. Swear I could feel her hands on my arms, grasping as though the wind would take us away from each other. Her lips on my cold ones, warm and fueling like a kindled fire.
I wondered if she threw the photos away. If she stared at them, with resentment. If she wanted to burn them.
Yet, I could’ve lived and died in that moment if I had to. If I was never able to tell her how I really felt about her, I’d be content to waste away, hanging on her lips like a vine, rotting from indecision and cowardice.
Eventually, Sam poked his head in to let me know it was time to go on. I flinched when he first spoke. It drew me back to reality in harsh, cold lighting. I drew the photo from my face, met his eye, and nodded.
I was lucky he didn’t ask any questions about my reserved response, though I knew he was aware that I was getting into character as this vessel. Part of me wished he had asked, though, if only to have someone to share the darkness with again, if even for just a second. And maybe outing Daisy and I to Sam would force me to tell her everything. Force some sort of decision to fall from the loitering hammer that hung above us.
Sam left. I set the photo down on the counter, not even thinking straight enough to put it away somewhere. Then, I hung the mask on my face, edges of my eyes darkened, just like my mind.
Part of me wished I didn’t even have to perform tonight. Every time I put on this disguise, I was reminded of those dark parts of me, the parts of me that were too much like this creature the costume made into. When I’d first come up with the character, I felt so strongly that I was just like Vessel- nothing but a pit of black, music transporting through me like some god had planted it there. I hadn’t been aware of my very real feelings. I just sat there, in that emptiness.
Things were different now.
Maybe I just needed a break from it all, from the costumes and the concerts and Daisy. Well, not Daisy. Not her. Just...everything involving her.
But never her. I just wanted her always, everywhere.
I didn’t get to have that, though, the break nor Daisy.
In fact, all I got was a slap in the face. When I went on stage, I spotted Daisy in the audience. For a split second, there was a lift in my heart, a fire in my bones. She was here. She hadn’t pulled away- she wanted me. She wanted me.
Then, as the lights flickered, I noticed the look of guilt on her face and the hand around her waist, She was here...with someone else.
I felt myself retracting, cocooning, not for growth, not for birth into something good, something with fluttering wings...but into that moth. Into that darkness.
Into that vessel.
In my fury, I laid claim to Daisy in all the wrong ways. I held her by the throat and let her dangle from my lips, reminded her how desparate she was for me, reminded her just how much she relied on my game. It had never been and never would be our game. I was the villain. I was the hunter.
She was my prey.
I was losing hope for my own reconciliation, for my own change. Maybe I would just always be detached, dark, monstrous. Maybe I would never be able to commit, to give in, to be someone’s something.
Maybe I was just this vessel, and maybe this vessel was just me.
Maybe I was never good enough for Daisy, but just enough to satisfy her furious need for that bad. And that was enough for me.
-
Things got worse when Fiona started blowing up my phone.
I wasn’t sure how she had gotten my number. I had changed it back in March, when I’d ended- really ended- things with her. And, with my career, it wasn’t like I’d just handed my number out to any person on the street. I had, maybe, ten contacts on my phone.
Daisy was one of the few I responded to.
But, somehow, someway, Fiona had gotten hold of my number and began blowing my phone up with messages. I blocked her the minute I noticed, after a show when I had time to get on my phone. Then, a few days later, she started messaging from a different number.
They were innocent claims- she kept saying I had left things at her flat and needed to come pick them up. But I knew her better than that. She was trying to use this to weasel back into my head, my heart. She’d convince me to come pick everything up and then, when I was there, she’d start crying. Start saying how much she loved and needed me. She’d convince her into her bed, and we’d start spiraling down into that same old waltz we both knew too well.
After I blocked this contact, I guess she evolved. She started using an unknown number, so I couldn’t even block the contact. I called my manager immediately and told him I needed to get a new phone number. Apparently, all the stores around us were closed for a few days, which just so happened to be my fucking luck. But he promised to get something for as soon as possible.
In the meantime, I just had to ignore her.
So, I booked a last-minute therapy appointment.
I glossed over everything with my doctor, telling myself that things with Daisy were hopeless. She obviously thought me to be disposable. I mean, I had watched how quickly she’d pulled away, how quickly she found another empty face in the crowd.
I didn’t want to admit that shameful situation to my doctor. I didn’t want her to know I’d let myself fall again.
Instead, we talked about Fiona, about the temptress knocking on my door. My doctor kept reminding me to, “Stay strong. Know your worth.”
Easy words for someone in a healthy, happy marriage.
All it would take was one more wrong look from Daisy and one wrong text from Fiona, and I’d end up back off the cliff.
So, I clung to the guys. Daisy had been...not so distant but detached. Cautious. She was taking the lead, so I followed. We still hung out, still fucked like we had been doing. Still had these meaningful, deep conversations that made me wonder, over and over, what the fuck was going through her head. But honestly, I now spent some of that extra time with Max, Cy, Adam, or Sam. We were due to begin working on the next album and I had plenty of ideas floating around in my head.
It was peaceful, quaint. Something I’d missed. Maybe I wouldn’t be ready to start dating again if something like this caused me so much stress.
Adam was texting me now, wondering if I wanted to hang out sometime this morning, talk about the album. I told him I’d let him know what time, considering Daisy was in my bed. And Fiona was blowing my phone up like fucking crazy.
The whole situation threw me off. She wasn’t really concerned about it, but made numerous, passive jokes about me having a secret girlfriend. I don’t know if it was because she really, truly wanted me to be exclusive to her, or if it was just something to do with her pride.
Signals were still mixed, even after we’d had a conversation about how committed we were to each other. Part of me wondered if it had just been an act, her agreement to never see anybody else, her admittance that she was, “mine.” If it had just been something brewed from the heat of the moment. But, when I answered the phone, set it back on the nightstand, I swear to God I saw something in her eyes shift, like she had been bothered at the thought of me with someone else.
Or it would be shitty in general if I was seeing someone else.
I weighed telling her, every single, how I felt about her. I don’t know that if I told her I loved her it would change anything. I had all but done so, and she still was unmoving. She still had gone and found that faceless nobody in the crowd.
Today, I felt like maybe I should. Tell her.
As soon as she had left, someone knocked on my door. I didn’t think it was Daisy, considering Sam would be waking up soon and she needed to get back into bed. When I looked through the peephole, Adam was there, staring over his shoulder sort of strangely.
“Hey, dude,” I started as I opened the door, then turned to make my way over to the bed where my book bag was. I reached in for my notebook, continuing, “so, I’ve got a few good ideas rattling around-” probably a few too many about Daisy, “that I wanna show ya.”
He slowly entered the room, shutting the door softly behind him, “Yeah, uh...” he approached me sort of hesitantly, distant confusion in his pupils, “I think we...should talk about something first.” He didn’t seem too sure of himself and the words he was saying were cautious. So, my tone slowed, hardened “What-what’s up?”
He finally met my eye and I felt like a sword had been shoved down my throat, “I just talked to Daisy...out in the hallway.”
I set my book bag down, hands having been frozen around the straps like someone cursed me into the stoic, icy position. All I could think to say was, “Oh.”
Adam nodded half-heartedly, “Yeah. Oh. I... don’t know what to say, really. I knew you guys had been...like, it was obvious. To me and I think Max, at least. Sam is kinda clueless and, he and Ronnie are totally sleeping with each other.”
Well, that was obvious. So obvious that I could have snorted, but I was too focused on the wild realization that everyone basically knew. All of that sneaking around, trying to be secretive- well, it didn’t fucking matter. And it didn’t seem like it really mattered that much.
“Are you gonna, like, scold me or something?’ I sat on the edge of my bed, running a wary hand through my hair.
“No, I’m gonna tell you that you’re fucking stupid.”
“What?” I looked up from the ground, shock widening my eyes.
Adam finally softened his expression and chortled, though it was short before he was in on me again, “You’re stupid, Ollie. I don’t think you’re doing it on purpose. I think you’re just...Fiona fucked you up. And I’ve watched you slowly start to heal over these past few months. Daisy has everything to do with that. And...she fucking loves you, dude. She thinks the world of you. And you’ve both, I guess, been dancing this dance with each other, walking around the whole thing. I just told her, like- stop thinking less of yourselves. You both deserve something good. You’re both worthy of each other. So, stop being fucking stupid and just tell her.”
My face was hot. I clenched my hands together, knuckles turning white as all these rampant, loose feelings released in my chest, in my head. “She doesn’t love me.” Adam chuckled again, “That’s a bold fucking statement. She just told me herself how much she adores me.”
“Well, yeah, she likes me, that’s obvious,” I waved him off, “she wouldn’t be sleeping with me if she didn’t. But...I think I’ve made it clear so many times how much I want her. And she, just, doesn’t care. Or she turns away.”
“She’s scared!” Adam exclaimed, making me flinch just slightly. “Sorry,” he spoke quieter, like he had shocked himself with his tone of voice. “She’s scared, Ollie. She’s...she doesn’t know who she is. That’s why she came here. That’s why she pulls away, why she seems unsure.”
“Well, I know that,” I scoffed, “I know her better than anyone. You haven’t seen the way she...how she denies it. I know she denies it. She denies us- me.”
“Okay, tell me,” Adam nearly popped a hip at this, a sassy tone overtaking his authoritative one. “Tell me how she denies, what she says and does that makes you think she doesn’t want you. Tell me that she doesn’t love you.”
I thought, long and hard. I could've mentioned the very recent time when she had been dancing with another guy, at our concert, a prowling look in her eyes. Or, of the time when I was on the brink of telling her how I felt, then she pulled away. Or-
Wait.
Am I fucking stupid?
I’m so fucking stupid. I am the dumbest, stupidest idiotic idiot to have ever existed.
It was all right there, clearing up now like I was wearing new glasses. I had a new perspective- I had an unbiased, outsider’s view of the world I had been suffocating in. And Adam’s view was- a breath of fresh air.
I was so obviously the one turning away from her.
From the beginning, I’d been denying her, us, for fear that she wouldn’t want me that way. For fear that someone would find out, for fear that I might die if she ever looked away from me. And I’ve been covering it up with the excuse that I was broken, or hurting, or-or...worthless.
I knew differently. I’d known it differently for a while now but had been unable to act upon this rationality. I was too emotional, too, in my head. And that made me seem manipulative, and asshole-ish, and- fucking stupid.
Adam watched me carefully, watched me as I processed these past few months. My eyes were narrowed, confused, though they widened as the information unfolded in my mind, as the notches clicked together.
“You’re…right.”
Instead of worrying myself with the evidence that she, too, was afraid, I felt my head flood with memories, as tangent on my skin as the cool air of my hotel room. Memories of her devotion, her promise, her love. Memories of us in the stale morning, sharing stories of her mother and that little apartment back in America. Memories of us on the roof, atop the world, atop the feeling, a private sanctuary where even just the flash of her eyes should have told me everything that I needed to know. I was going to tell her I felt the same. I was going to pull her up to the roof, one of our most sacred secrets, and pour everything out onto the barren concrete between us. And I knew she would say that she loved me, too.
It was delicate and I would have to handle it as such. Any sudden movement, and we’d be falling apart, all over again.
But, then Max was bombarding my hotel room, spewing some nonsense about Daisy and Ronnie getting tattoos. He was dragging us to Sam’s hotel room. I was practicing the lines in my head, over and over, a prayer.
Daisy was looking at me with these doe-innocent eyes, like she, too, was praying to some old god. Altering herself for a breath that he may resurrect what was dying between us even now.
I found more words, new words- lyrics, pummeling my skull in wondrous discovery. It was right there- everything was- My phone wouldn’t fucking stop ringing and I thought that I might explode into atoms. I ignored the call, watching as Daisy’s face fell each and every time that it did. She well and truly thought that I was seeing someone else.
Enough was enough.
I took a step towards her, fully intent on putting a rest to the strangeness and awakening what was already there. But, then my phone rang again.
And Sam began making some joke about Fiona calling me, a knowing, devious smirk on his features. He didn’t know- how could he know? I couldn’t be upset with him, but I wanted to strangle him into the carpet.
But I couldn’t focus on that anger for too long-
Because Daisy was leaving like we both always left, one too many times, in one too many silent glares of this something that we just may never get right.
The delicate threads of us bent and snapped.
#sleep token#sleep token x reader#sleep token smut#vessel x reader#sleep token x you#vessel x you#vessel sleep token#sleep token fanfic#sleep token band#sleep token iii
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Therapy pt.3
Matt sturniolo x y/n / fem reader
Smutt, kinks, dom matt, punishments, a lot of crazy shit to do with the kinks discussed in the two therapy sessions. Lots of dirty shit honestly too much to put in the warning so … 🫦
Matts pov-
Im so worked up right now. After her saying she likes a challenge I just could not handle it anymore. I know its not appropriate to have sex with a client but fuck me with y/n I just cant control myself.
Since the first session she's been running through my mind. She is absolutely beautiful for one and the kinks she has are music to my ears whenever she reads them off. Ive had multiple dreams about the nasty depraved things I want to do to her and after tonight I don't know if we’ll be able to go back to just a therapist client relationship.
I see the way she looks at me when she thinks im not paying attention and fuck the way she bites her lip nervously after reading her kinks is so hot to me. She is such a dirty girl but hides it all under this sweet innocent persona and it drives me wild. I want to see her brake for me ... hear her begging me to let her cum and watching her unravel over and over until she's crying and begging for me to stop.
Tonight I will finally get what ive always wanted and the best part is I know she’ll let me . I don't think she caught it but when she described her type in our first session she pretty much described me perfectly. The tattoos , dark hair , blue eyes, a dark mysterious persona and not too mention her size kink.
Y/n is not super short but compared to me she looks so small and it drives me wild anytime she looks up at me when I stand in front of her . She constantly has bedroom eyes and thats one feature I love on her gorgeous little face . Im 6'4 and she's probably around 5'7 so as you can imagine the height difference is a good amount . (Ik this man’s is a cool 5’8 but we gonna act like he ain’t alright)
As she sits next to me in the car I cant help but watch her as her thighs squeeze tightly together and her breathing is slightly fast. I wonder what her gorgeous little mind is thinking knowing im taking her back home with me. I know she was tipsy when she said those words to me but drunk words are sober thoughts and im so glad she finally made it clear she is also attracted to me .
These 15 minutes need to go bye quick ... because once I get her inside this damn house she in for a very long night.
Your pov-
Your going crazy in his passenger seat your mind is running wild with possibility’s of what is going to happen.
The thought of him above me with his hand around my neck as he fucks into you so hard your crying is on a non stop loop in your mind you’ve been clenching your thighs for so long they are cramping . You’ve tried to think about anything else but every time you try every thought turns into him again. He's consuming your mind and you cant wait for him to consume every other part of you.
The fact he is in a high class b.d.s.m club also tells you a lot . All the men there are dominants of high power and class . Your mind wanders back to the two men Matt had introduced you to and honestly you feel bad that they will probably never hear from you but now that you know you can have Matt you don't even want to look at them again.
You were sonly entertaining them just incase u had to settle for the next best choice but you know Matt is going to ruin you tonight and after this there is no going back and you pray this car ride is almost over.
How much longer do we have
About 10 more minutes ... why
I just really have to pee this isn't a lie I do have to pee but we all know the real reason I wanted to know
don't worry were almost there
he sets his hand on your thigh causing your breathe to hitch , even the smallest touch from his hand has your pussy clenching and pulsing. he rubs small circles with his thumb causing you to let out a soft sigh but it came out more like a moan.
you don't try to cover it up you just keep looking out the window as the trees pass by and you finally pull up to a large black gate.
It opens when he presses a button and he slowly makes his way up the very long windy road leading up to what you can only guess is the house.
There are lights lining the road every few feet and there are old looking willow trees scattered along the sides . It's beautiful yet creepy at the same time.
The car come to a stop and you look through the front windshield at a beautiful modern gothic mansion
Wow Matt your house is just ... wow
Thank you me and my brothers have a love for gothic style architecture
god you drive my dream car and live in my dream house could you be more perfect
he laughs softly Well if you like the outside you’ll love the inside come on
you smile at him as you rush out of the car excited to see the interior of his gorgeous home
he gets out locking the car and taking your hand in his as he leads you to the front door and unlocks it letting you enter first .
you walk into the most breathe taking foyer.
Holy fuck you look around already involve with the house and this is only the entrance
im guessing you like it
LOVE it
he smiles and chuckles
wait till you see the victorian greenhouse in the back he says smiling at you leading you into the living room
God this house keeps getting better and better you say as you take in the dark interior of the living room.
I think your gonna love the kitchen come on he says leading you down a dark emerald green hallways into a large kitchen.
You're right I do love it . You guys love dark colors huh
yeah I guess so he says looking around actually realizing most of the house is black with dark accent colors.
I like it a lot even though its dark it doesn't feel depressing
yeah I agree . Okay time for the greenhouse
Oh . my .god this is beautiful . I have an entire Pinterest board for my dream house and i've always loved the idea of having a interior greenhouse but this is just beautiful you start walking around looking at all the flowers and plants they have growing around .
Yeah My brother nick loves this part of the house he actually does most of the planting and stuff
he has great taste in flowers night rider lilys are my favorite flower
He would talk your ear off for hours about all these flowers if he could
I would probably love that actually I mean this is just beautiful . Your lucky to have this in your house I hope you know that
oh I do trust me but lets go upstairs I wanna show you my favorite room
okay you say taking his hand as he leads you down another dark hallways leading to a spiral staircase .
As you reach the last step it enters into a large library
wow this is by far my favorite room
I knew you'd like it go up those stairs and look on the middle 3 shelves I think you'll like that section he says smirking
you take the staircase up and go to the shelves he told you too . You look at the books noticing they are all dark romance books . They are all hard covers and you trace them with your fingers landing on one in particular . Haunting Adeline by H.D Carlton your favorite book you've read by far.
Matt steps behind you placing his hands on your hips .
You read haunting Adeline?
multiple times . I love this book
is that what started your stalker fantasies
It didn't start it but it definitely made it 10 times worse
what did start them he asks as you traced over other books that you've read
Honestly from a young age I always had thought in my brain that someone was or could be watching me through my window . My childhood home had woods behind and around the right side so I was always paranoid someone was out there but I guess... as I grew up the idea became appealing instead of scary.
mmm you like the cat and mouse game don't you... he moves closer to you as his lips brush your earlobe you like feeling like prey being hunted by a large ... scary ... predator hmmm . Don't you ?
you moan at the feel of his hands on you and the dirty words he said too you
I asked you a question he says as one of his hands travels up to your neck gripping it and spinning you around .
Now answer it... he says in a deep husky voice
y-yes I like it
mm such a depraved little slut aren't you
you moan not knowing what to say
never being satisfied ... having to come to me he says as he steps closer making your back hit the wall of books and you have to arch your neck that his hand is still around to look up at him towering over you.(again were pretending that this man isn't 5'8 alright) Telling me all the dirty ... depraved things you crave
you moan.
im gonna give you everything you want ... and your gonna thank me over and over
Jesus Christ you moan as you feel the wetness pooling in your underwear and slightly dripping down your thigh. You've never been so aroused in your life and all you want to do is beg him to touch you
his hand that was on your hip travels under your dress and up your thigh as his long fingers reach the inner of your thigh he groans
Such a little slut . Your so turned on its running down your thigh and I haven't even touched you yet
you whine as his hand slowly inches closer to where you need hm most
your gonna have to wait... the house tour isn't over yet
oh fuck you you sigh out. You're so turned on its driving you crazy .
excuse me he says gripping your throat even tighter and grabbing your face with his other making you look at him. You whine as you feel your teeth pressing into your cheeks from his tight hold.
you might want to watch your tone with me he says staring intently in your eyes.
yes sir you bite back your words laced with attitude
he lets go of your face and yanks you by your hand after him.
You make your way into a long hallway with a couple doors on each side
He opens the first one and its a fairly large bathroom
nice bathroom okay next room
someone is eager huh he says as he leads you to the next door
this is my brother chris's room
oh nice
then he walks to the next door farther down the hall on the left
and this is my brother nicks room
do you all live on the same floor ?
no my room is on the basement level
oh ... why?
you'll see he says as he leads you to the last room.
this is chris's at home studio he says as you let go of his hand and walk around looking at all the equipment.
does he make music ?
Sometimes yeah but he's more into producing backtracks and beats and stuff
that so cool
yeah the man loves his music . Come on I wanna show you the backyard
he leads you out of the room and down another flight of stairs leading out to the backyard.
This is one of my favorite parts of the house
wow the pool is amazing
yeah its great. and its heated so you can use it all year round
damn thats nice
yeah its pretty great but come on I saved the best rooms for last
he leads you back inside the house and leads you down a dark flight of stairs to the basement level .
The stairs lead into another living room
wow its dark down here
yeah I like it dark it feels ... cozy to me
mmm you hum as you look at the dark blue couch and the nice fire place behind it.
he leads you down another long hallway to the room at the end.
This is my room he says before opening the door
mmm its dark but cozy I like it
and that is my closet over there and this is my bathroom
mm its like your own apartment down here
yeah I love my brothers a lot but I like to have my own space
I get that , do you mind if I use the bathroom real quick
not at all go ahead he says as you swiftly make your way into the bathroom closing the door behind you. You had been holding in your pee for the entire house tour.
you make your way to the toilet and finally relieve yourself with a sigh. As you sit you look around the large bathroom noticing the nice ass shower. Your mind wanders to things you'd love to do with him in that shower.
You finish up and wash your hands and make your way back out into the room .
Matt is in the middle of taking off dress shirt and you cant help but watch the way his back muscles tense as he pulls in off and sets it in a laundry hamper.
he pulls on a black sweatshirt he must have changed into his sweatpants while you were in the bathroom .
He turns around noticing you .
Feel better
yes much better. I held it in for a while
he chuckles and then walks closer to you as he bends down and lifts one of your feet you balance yourself by placing a hand on his shoulder. He takes of your heel and then the other.
You sigh feeling so much more comfortable .
Go into my closet and grab a sweatshirt I know you probably want to get out of that dress
as you make your way to the closet he slaps your ass causing you to gasp.
you smile as you make your way into the large walk in closet and finding a line of sweatshirt hung on the top rack .
you grab a grey sweatshirt and start undoing your dress as it slips off . You weren't wearing a bra under the dress so all you have under his large sweatshirt is your lace thong that is soaked with your arousal from earlier.
you walk back out and he smiles at you .
You look good in my sweatshirt
yeah its comfy too to say as you hold your arms out looking down .
its fits big on you since he's significantly taller than you.
I have a feeling I won't be getting it back anytime soon
yeahhh don't hold your breathe you say smiling back at him.
ready for the last room
mhm you smile knowing you're finally going to be getting what you want after this last room.
he leads you out of his room and down a small hall leading to a large door at the end .
I think you'll like this one he says with a smirk on his face.
he opens the door and turns on the light . Your mouth drops as you see what the room is.
A fucking sex dungeon
you walk around the room looking at all the whips and ropes that line the left wall. The right wall is adorned with blindfolds and other kind of restraints .
you still think you can handle me he says in your ear as he swiftly walks around you with his hand on your waist
you make eye contact nodding your head hoping hell finally touch you.
take the sweatshirt off he says sternly.
you slowly lift it over your head as your nipple immediately harden since this part of the house is cooler than the rest.
he groans at the sight of your bare body in front of him.
he slowly traces a hand down your face then neck and then he reaches your tits as he pulls on your nipples causing you to moan from the pain and pleasure.
he pulls on them harder making you gasp for air .
his hands move to your waist as he effortlessly picks you up and holds under your thighs to keep you up as you wrap your legs around his waist.
he brings his mouth to your neck biting and sucking leaving marks as you moan from the feeling.
you sound so beautiful he goes back into your neck leaving more marks.
your legs tighten around his waist as he bites down harshly on your shoulder
fuck you gasp as he lets go and kisses it softly
he sets you down and spins you around walking you over to the couch and bending you over the arm rest .
he bends down so his mouth is at your ear
I think you need to learn some manners hmm
you know that he's probably referring to the library when you coped an attitude with him .
all you do is shake your head yes
use your words y/n . he says in a harsh tone that has you pulsing around nothing.
yes you say sounding out of breathe .
yes what ...
yes sir
good girl
you hear him walk away but stay where he put you .
you hear him step back behind you and feel something cold run along your left ass cheek . You lay there waiting for what he's going to do .
Something slaps down on your cheek causing you to gasp . It didn't hurt but it definitely would leave a mark if he smacks harder.
you know what this is ? he asks seeing if you'll guess correctly
ummm I don't know
he smacks down the object again with more force causing your hips to buck harshly into the arm rest.
take a guess and maybe ill go easy on you
fuck umm I... a crop wip
he smacks down on your other cheek
such a smart girl
you moan at his praise as he smacks down again.
he tosses it on the couch and grabs you to stand up by your hair causing you to whine.
You have no idea what I want to do to you right now
you let out a quiet moan .
Please . Do anything you want .use me
yeah you want me to treat you like the dirty little slut you are his tone making it evident he's smirking.
yes... fuck please
he lets go of your hair and walks over to the wall of blindfolds picking up a blue satin one and walking back over to you .
turn around he says as he stands in front of you .
You do as he says and he ties it around your eyes and nots it at the back securing it tightly .
you run your hands over the silky cool material smiling .
he guides you by your waist until he pushes you down to sit on the edge of the couch your back arching into the back of the couch.
his hands move up and down your sides until he reaches your panty lines and pulls them down your legs slowly .
spread your legs for me show me how much of a mess i've made you
you spread your legs and he groans
such a pretty little pussy he says before placing soft wet kisses on your inner thighs causing you to squirm in anticipation.
his breathe hits your sensitive clit and your hips buck . You want him to finally touch you so badly you just cant help yourself .
he places a soft kiss on your clit causing you to moan .
fuck... please
tell me what you want
please I need your mouth so bad
mmm he groans before diving into your pussy as he licks and sucks .Fuck he's good at this . Your breathing is erratic as you squirm under him .
oh- my god fuck
yeah ... am I making you feel good he says before going back to sucking your clit
yes fuck so good you moan out . He starts flicking his tongue in the perfect spot that has your legs trembling.
Oh FUCK oh my god right there
he smirks against your pussy as he inserts a finger inside your gushing entrance eliciting a loud moan from you.
Oh my god fuck im so close
Cum for me sweetheart cover my mouth with it
his words immediately send you tumbling over the edge as your legs tremble and you're gasping for air .
such a good girl for me he says as you come down from your high and he pulls his finger out of you .
your catching your breathe as he licks his fingers clean.
such a sweet little pussy he groans .
get up he says in a raspy tone you immediately obey standing up and waiting for more instruction.
he walks over to the wall of restraints and ropes he picks a set and walks back over to you .He pulls off the blindfold and throws it down.
you blink adjusting to the lights then looking down at what's in his hand.
you smile and he notices.
come on he says making you walk in front of him .
he watches the way your ass moves when you walk making him even more painfully hard than he already is.
you make it back in his room and he shuts the door harshly then grabs you buy the back of the neck.
hands behind your back
you hold them behind your back and he puts the wrist restrains on securing them enough they won't slip off but not tight enough to hurt.
walk to the end of the bed
You walk slowly to the end of the bed as he trails closely behind.One you reach the end he moves your hair and tells you to hold it . He then secures the neck piece of the restraints. It holds your head at and angle that is slightly uncomfortable but you enjoy it.
He pulls his sweatshirt off and he spins you around to face him.
You look so beautiful all restrained for me
you smile up at him as your eyes trail his upper body the best they can with the restraints .
he pushes your shoulders down as he makes you sit on the edge of the bed.
he slowly unties the string of his sweatpants and slides them down and kicks them off.
Your gonna be a good girl and let me fuck that pretty little mouth
you moan in agreement.
his bulge is right in front of your face causing you to gulp. He is definitely not small and that makes you slightly nervous.
He starts pulling down his boxers causing his rock hard dick to pop out and slap you on the face. You jump not expecting it which makes him chuckle.
Open .
you open your mouth and he shoves his middle and ring finger into your mouth you gag slightly as they hit the back of your mouth and your eyes water.
mmm were gonna need to work on that he says as you gag on his finger the farther he pushes back.
He pulls them out and strokes his long thick length a couple times before looking down at you smirking.
he taps his dick on your lips telling you to open your mouth .
The second you open your mouth he slides into it and slowly thrusts in and out . His girth has the corners of your mouth stretching and your jaw hurts from how wide you have to keep your mouth open .
he grabs the back of your head and starts thrusting hard and fast. You're gagging and coughing around him causing him to groan .
Fuck look at you drooling and gagging . Such a fucking mess for me
you moan around him as tears roll down your face and spit is dripping out of the sides of your mouth and down your chin and neck. His thrust get harder his tip bruising your throat with each thrust. You're crying as your eyes get foggy from your mascara bleeding into them. You're gagging loudly as he goes deeper down your throat.
You try moving your hand to his thighs only to remember they are secured behind your back. So you try the next best thing and start trying to inch further up the bed and away from him which only seems to make him thrust more aggressively.
nahuh don't try and get away ... you said you'd be a good girl for me he grunts out horsly as his breathing is loud and curses pour out of his mouth signaling he's close.
I'm gonna fill this pretty little mouth and your gonna swallow all of it you understand he groans out as you nod your head the best you can .
he harshly thrusts a couple more times before burying himself as deep as he can go and fills your throat and mouth with his cum. He pulls out and slaps his hand over your mouth.
You better fucking swallow it. he says in a harsh tone that has your pussy gushing.
you swallow down the thick liquid furrowing your brows from the weird texture. He takes his hand off your mouth .
good girl listening so well he says before gently stroking your lips with his thumb. You hum at the soft touch and lean into it.
stand up you immediately stand up and look up at him with teary bedroom eyes.
he spins you around and bends you over the side of the bed .
He runs his hand down your back and grabs onto the chain connected to the back of the collar pulling your head back so you're looking at him. You whimper at the way the collar part tightens with the angle.
You want me to fuck you dumb he asks with a cocky smile on his face.
you nod and he slaps you on the ass with his free hand.
Use your fucking words when I ask you a question
y-yes I want you to fuck me
tell me how bad you want it ... beg for it he says making the chain a bit tighter in his hand.
p-please I want it so bad please your voice coming out broken and raspy.
mmm beg louder i wanna hear the desperation int that pretty little voice of yours
please Please fuck me I want it so bad PLEAse
mmm you sound so pretty when you beg he says as he lets go of the chain and your head falls onto the mattress .
his hand runs further down your ass to your throbbing core.
he slides a finger in causing you to whimper .
Fuck you're so wet. You like having my dick down your throat don't you
you moan in agreement causing him to slap your ass hard.
don't you he says deeply .
y-yes I love it
such a little slut he says as he adds another finger and starts moving them in and out at a pace that has your toes curling.
f-fuck oh my-
yeah you like my fingers
y-yes sir f-fuck I love them
he groans at you calling him sir and he speeds up his fingers curling them to hit the perfect spot that has your legs starting to tremble and your orgasm building at a fast pace.
oh- fuck I-im gonna cum
not until you beg for it
f-fuck oh god
don't even think about cumming without my permission he says slapping your ass as you loudly moan into the mattress.
F-fuck please can I cum fuck please please
hold it
b-but your breathing so hard as you try on focus on not cumming.
I know you can do it
fuck I- cant please let me cum fuck please
no your gonna hold it until I say you can cum
you whine in protest as your eyes swell with tears and your legs are shaking as your hands ball into fists
f-fuck I c-cant you cry out as it starts to get painful holding it back
yes you fucking can his pace gets faster and you break not being able to hold it anymore.
did you just fucking cum after I told you not too
you orgasm so hard around his fingers you don't even care he's angry you couldn't follow directions.
I t-told you I could hold it
he pulls you up by the chain causing you to gasp and cry out from the force.
he sits down and throws you over his knees.
you are going to learn to follow directions
you whine knowing he's about to make you regret that last orgasm.
his hand comes down on your ass causing you to whine
your gonna take as many spankings as I see fit and your gonna thank me for every single one
his hand comes down harshly causing your ass to sting
f-fuck thank you sir
his hand comes down on the same spot at least 15 times before you're crying and begging him to stop .
m-matt please it hurts you cry out as his hand comes down again.
im sorry who his hands come down at a fast pace hitting your stinging red cheek at least 5 times.
OW F-fuck sir please I- cant t-take anymore please im sorry I won't do it again
he rubs his hand softly over your red and raised ass cheek admiring his large hand print that is now imprinted in the skin and tracing the blood vessels that burst around the print smiling to himself.
you think you learned your lesson he asks in a softer voice.
yes sir I promise I will listen from now on you sigh out . Your ass cheek is stinging so much and your breathing is erratic from crying.
he helps you stand up before he pushes you back over the edge of the bed again . His strokes. his rock hard dick a couple times before he runs the tip through your wet folds .
he slowly pushes in causing you to hiss from the stretch he's so big that you know no matter how slow he enters you it'll hurt.
ahh shit you whine out as he pushes a little deeper.
I know sweetheart you're doing so good for me he says running his hand down the small of your back trying to sooth you.
mmm you whine as he still pushes in .
You're doing so good . Only half more to go
Thats only half you loudly cry out . You already feel so full and you don't know how you're gonna handle all of it .
he chuckles at your reaction ad he pushes deeper and deeper .
fuck you're so fucking tight .
You whine and squirm as the stinging gets worse when his thickest part enters you .
Jesus c-christ your so big you cry out as you try and calm your breathing.
I know baby but you're almost there he groans as he pushed in until he is balls deep .
you cry out as he fills you up fully with his entire length staying still letting you adjust. You knew he was big but you dint expect him to stretch you this much but you also haven't had sex in a while so its not that shocking . You've also never taken a dick this big , he's a good 9 inches and girthy as fuck.
fuck okay you can move but please go slow
he starts to slowly thrust in and out as you continue to adjust .
mmm you whine as the pain fades into pleasure
feel good he says as as he speeds up the pace ever so slightly.
y-yes sir
he groans as you pulse around him .
can you handle it if I go faster he grunts out. The slow pace is not something he enjoys. He likes to be rough and hard but he doesn't want to hurt you.
yes fuck please go faster the second these words leave your moth he starts thrusting faster . Your gasping and moaning as he hits your g- spot over and over.
h-harder fuck please sir fuck me harder
god you're such a little slut he grunts as he starts going harder and your eyes rolls to the back of your head as you feel your orgasm building.
FUCK O-OH MY GOD Y-YOU'RE SO DEEP
Yeah you liked being fuck like a dirty whore
ye-yes I love it FUCK
I can feel you pulsing around me sweetheart . You gonna cum all over my cock like the good little whore you are
Y-YES SIR. FUCK CAN I CUM P-PLEASE
yeah cum all over my cock
FUCK you scream as you cum all over him and your legs tense and shake under him .
You come down from your high as he still pounds into you as your entire body trembles under him.
MMm f-fuck you pant out as he continues pounding into you relentlessly.
so fucking wet for me he groans out as he takes a hold of the chain and yanks your head back to look up at him. Your breathing becomes scattered as the collar cuts off your air way.
You feel how deep I am hmm
you furrow your brows in pleasure but maintain eye contact and nod your head as moans slip out of your mouth.
he lets go of the chain as your head drops down and you regain a normal breathing pattern. He grabs the small chain that connects the cuffs together and starts pounding into you deeper causing you to scream out.
AHH FUCK S-SO DEEP I C-CANT
mmm you can .he grabs you by your hair and lowers himself over you so he's right by your ear , and you fucking will
he lifts off of you continuing to thrust so hard and deep your legs lift off the ground and kick the back of his thighs.
MM j-jesus christ m-matt His movements stop and pulls yanking you up by your hair causing you to cry out from the burn .
he unhooks your hands and spins you around to face him as he rebooks them in front of you.
Lay down for me he says and you climb back onto the bed laying down.He climbs back onto the bed and settles in-between your legs as he pushes them apart as far as they go and he pushes back into you .
Fuck oh m-my god you whine as he thrusts roughly into you and your eye close as the pleasure runs through you.
he slaps you causing you to wince.
look at me while I fuck you dumb
your eyes open as you moan and shake under him..
oh f-fuck im g-gonna you cry out before juices spray out of you all over his dick.
Thats it squirt all over me .Fuck your doing so good for me
you whine as your legs start to shake and you start to feel overstimulated from all the other orgasm you've had.
F-fuck I c-cant take -I-it
he grips your face tightly as he brings his face closer to yours.
well your gonna have to. Im not nearly close to being done with you he says before he lifts your legs over his shoulders and starts thrusting rougher and deeper causing a bulge to show in your stomach.
FUCK d-daddy I he cuts you off by pushing down on your stomach feeling himself in you.
call me daddy again and you'll regret it he groans out.
y-yes sir im s-sorry
He pushes down harder on the bulge in your stomach causing you to scream out as you squirt again.
Fuck keep fucking doing that your so fucking hot
mmmm f-fuck you whine as tears start streaming down your face
your entire body is shaking from the overstimulation you're feeling.
FUCK I CANT PLEASE I ... you squirt again . He has to pull out from how much is coming out.
He pushes two fingers into you causing you to scream . He curls them and moves them so fast your entire body is rocking . He hits your spot over and over until your squirting again all over his fingers and the bed.
J-jesus christ its t-too much you cry out as you they to move his hand away but failing since they are connected to the chain that isn't long enough for you to reach him.
I guess ill just have to force you take it then huh he says before replacing his fingers with his dick and fucking you so rough your seeing stars and all you can do is moan and cry .
the tears are streaming down your face as shake under him.
who's pussy is this he asks as he thrusts into you at a new angle that takes your breathe away. You want to answer him but no words are coming out of your mouth.
He slaps you across the face two times before he grips it and makes you look at him.
Whos fucking pussy is this y/n
Y-YOURS ITS YOURS FUCK you scream out as you cum all over him
that's it such a good girl he groans as you shake under him .
His thrusts don't let up if anything he starts going harder.
You're crying as whining under him unable to get words or moans out all you can do I breathe hard.
Look at you . Fucking you dumb hmm he says with a cocky smirk .
mmmmm you whine and kind of cry out as you lift your hips from the bed trying to get away from him but he grabs your hips hitting you at a different angle that has you choking on air.
so pathetic trying to run away from me he says as he grips your hips so tight there will be bruises Tommorrow.
F-f-fuck you you cry out . You're so overstimulate it hurts .
he slaps you across the face then shoves his fingers into your mouth causing you to gag and couch as he presses down your tongue.
watch your fucking mouth he says as he pulls his fingers out of your mouth and starts rubbing circles on your clit as he continues pounding into you.
MMM N-NO I CANT I-C-CANT you scream out as you feel another painful orgasm building.
oh but you will he says as he feels you pulsing around him signaling your close.
F-FUCK MMMM you scream in a horse shaky voice as your orgasm all over him so hard your entire body shakes and lifts off the bed as he continues rubbing your clit until you come down from your high as your brain goes fuzzy and your vision blurs.
your body is exhausted and your non stop shaking as he continues thrusting into you.
Fuck you gonna let me fill this pussy with my cum hmm
y-yes p-please you whine knowing that he's close brings a smile to your face you don't know how much more you can take.
yeah such a little cum slut aren't you
mmm y-yes sir you moan as his thrust get sloppy .
f-fuck he groans as he fills you up .
you lay there trying to catch your breathe as he pulls out and pulls you up unlatching the collar and handcuffs . you let out a sigh and stretch your arms since they are locked up from the position they were forced into for so long.
You okay he asks smiling softly at you .
you look at him softly smiling before climbing into his lap and holding onto him .
mmhm just... tired you say smiling against his chest. He rubs your back softly as he holds you tight.
lets go get cleaned up hmm he coos in your ear.
mmhm you sigh into his chest but don't have the energy to move.
he stands up holding you as walks to the bathroom and sets you down on the toilet letting you pee as he starts the shower .
once you finish your business he picks you up and walks you both into the shower and under the water.
you sigh as the water runs over your exhausted body . He slowly sets you down but still holds you tight knowing your legs are not very stable right now. He grabs some body wash and doors it all over your body before rubbing it in and letting in rinse away . You wash his torso and then rubs it all over his back then he rinses it off.
You smile to yourself feeling so taken care of at the moment and it makes you happy .
what you smiling about he jokes as he smiles down at you.
nothing your just... I just feel taken care of thats all
aftercare is very important to me you know that
I know its just not something i'm used to so.. thank you
of course beautiful he says as he runs his hands through your wet hair and places a kiss on your forehead.
he turns off the water and helps you step out as he wraps the large towel around you and wraps his around his waist.
you both make your way back into his room after drying off most of the water . He grabs a shirt for you to throw on and he throws on some boxers and sweat shorts .
you okay ... hungry thirsty ?
yeah both actually
alright lets go to the kitchen i'll Make something
you make your way up the two flights of stairs to the main floor and walk through the halls to the kitchen.
what time is it you ask as you reach the kitchen
4 am a voice says from further in the kitchen making you yelp and jump in surprise .
matt laughs as he makes his way over to the fridge grabbing things out as you stand there clutching you chest trying to catch your breathe.
sorry sweetheart I didn't mean to scare you the other one says as he approaches you with a small chuckle.
no no its okay just wasn't expecting anyone to be in here.
im Chris he says offering a hand for you to shake .
y/n you say with a smile as you shake his hand.
ahhh so your y/n he says smirking and looking at matt
what's that supposed to mean you ask slightly confused.
oh nothing me and nick have just heard a lot about you over the past two weeks
Oh really you ask with a smile looking at matt who's rolling his eyes.
Mhmm he says winking at you causing you to blush.
what are you doing up anyway
Couldn't sleep . I was gonna go for a swim but then I got hungry he says walking over to the fridge and pulling out a water.
he looks over to you . Want a water
oh sure thank you
You walk over to the island and sit down in one of the chairs.watching as Matt cooks . Chris comes and sits next to you placing the water down in front of you.
so y/n what do you do for work?
im a stylist you say smiling at him
ah so thats why you always have good outfits.
you smile at him from the compliment
yeah I guess so
do you like it
yeah I love it most of the time
why most of the time
well I work with celebrity's a lot and some of them are complete assholes so you know
ahh yeah I get that some of them just act so entitled
right its ridiculous . Matt said your a music producer
yeah I am its pretty cool
I bet id love to be able to make my own music
Matt smiles at you as he admires the way you get along with his brother .
do you sing?
yeah a bit
you should totally record in my studio sometime
id love that but you know thats only if Matt keeps me around
Trust me I will Matt says smirking at you making you smile
well im gonna go for a swim and then probably go to bed .
bye it was nice to formally meet you
yeah you too he says as he walks away down the hall to the pool.
so you sing Matt says smiling
yeah not but only really to myself im kinda awkward when people watch me
well maybe one day I can get you too sing for me
mmm yeah maybe
he finishes plating up the chicken and potatoes he made and slides u a plate and some silverware across the island.
you immediately cut off a piece and take a bite as he wits for your reaction.
oh my god this is so good you say as you lean back in your chair with a smile .
im glad you like it he says smiling and coming to sit next to you.
this is another reason I love older guys
food..? he asks chuckling a little bit
no like you actually cooked me something not just fell asleep and left me to fend for myself
I mean its a pretty easy thing to do he says smiling and taking a bite of his food
yeah but guys my age just arent like you
well then im glad you found me
oh trust me me too you say with a smirk .
okayyy eat your food he says laughing
you laugh a little before finishing the meal he cooked .
that was so good thank you
of course
he gets up and puts the plates in the dishwasher before coming back over to you.
you know what im craving
hmm
desert he says with a wicked smile on his face...
part four coming since I feel like this one is already way too long and took me forever to finish.
💋
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