#like. let’s not have another panic attack today thank you body.

[whosthere54]

More distraction from the horrors tm

I’m gonna write more of my fable zombie apocalypse au for fun

[sturniolohouse]

Do Not Wait - M.S

a/n: this got heavier than i planned initially but i just leaned into wherever the story took me. it's also very reader focused, which i realized way too late. but, do not fret, matt is still in it :) lmk if you'd like me to continue this as a series... i hope yall like it, im proud of it.

summary: while matt is away, reader learns and struggles with some unexpected news that will change both their lives forever.

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, vomit, blood, death, grief, panic attacks, cursing. (no use of y/n)

word count: 11.7k

song: do not wait - wallows

"And it gets worse before it gets better That's one thing that I have come to know Just so you know"

“I hate to leave you like this,” Matt sighs, pushing my hair out of my face as his dark silhouette sits beside me on the bed.

I lay curled up in a ball after spending majority of the night sick. I feel terrible because I kept Matt up when he had to be up early for his flight to Chicago today.

Despite my attempts to avoid disturbing him, he spent most of the night beside me, rubbing my back while I hunched over the toilet and bringing me water.

I toss and turn, unable to find a comfortable position as my restlessness and nausea worsen by the second.

Matt’s hand touches my forehead, gently pushing my hair back and mindlessly scratching my head. I sit up as another wave of nausea twists my stomach, and I take a deep breath, hoping to suppress it. Matt sits up behind me, his hand now rubbing my back as I lean over the side of the bed with my head between my knees.

Thankfully, a moment later the wave of sickness passes and I sit up straight with a small groan as my body aches.

“I’m going to sleep on the couch. I don’t want to get you sick, and you have to be up in a few hours,” I croak, but he protests, gently pulling me back into bed.

"I don't give a fuck. I'll sleep on the plane, you're staying right here,"

As the morning light begins to filter through the curtains, Matt’s alarm goes off. By then, we had maybe collectively slept an hour and I knew he must have been exhausted. He got ready quietly trying his best not to disturb me, but I was already awake.

I don’t think sleep is in the cards for me tonight.

He places the back of his hand on my forehead, then my cheek, his touch gentle and searching.

“You still don’t have a fever...I don’t know if that’s good or bad,” He sighs, his fingers sifting through my hair with a tenderness that makes my heart ache.

Even with the faint light of dawn as our only source, I can still make out his concerned expression as he scans my face.

“I've never been this sick before. It must be a bug,” My voice is hoarse from repeatedly throwing up.

“Please, stay here with Nick while I’m gone so you have someone to look after you. I’m gonna text him now so he sees it when he wakes up. God, I don’t even want to go anymore,” He wipes his hand down his face in stress and I shake my head.

“No, stop, don’t worry about me. I’m gonna be fine. I’ll stay here with Nick. Please don’t be late for your flight,” I insist, gripping his hand weakly. “I’m going to make some tea and try to get some rest.” I go to get up but he puts his hand on my shoulder.

“I’ll make you tea, while we wait for the Uber. What do you want, mint?” He asks softly, his hand rubbing up and down my hip.

I nod weakly, thanking him.

I doze off a bit while he goes to make my tea, the repercussion of not sleeping catching up to me. When I open my eyes again, he’s setting my steaming mug on the bedside shelf carefully and placing two advils next to it.

“Text me when you wake up? And let me know if you have to go to urgent care, I’ll send you an Uber.” He tells me softly, his voice trembling with an emotion he’s trying to hide.

His reluctance to leave is evident in every line of his face.

I nod tiredly, “Mm, text me when you and Chris land. Have fun in Chicago. I love you.”

“I love you,” He kisses my forehead, before grabbing his suitcase by his bedroom door and leaving.

I was able to sleep a couple of more hours before I woke up again, dry heaving into the toilet because I quite literally had nothing left in my stomach.

I showered, brushed my teeth and went into the kitchen, searching for something bland to settle my stomach. I had decided to grab a rice cake and made more mint tea before I sprawled out on the couch in one of Matt’s hoodies.

It’s not the first time he’s been away, but this time, I miss him more than I anticipated. Even the scent of his hoodie brings a wave of emotion that catches me off guard.

We’ve never been one of those couples that spends every second of every day together anyway. Not even when we first started dating. We’ve always given each other the space we need.

But I must admit I could go for one of his hugs right now.

It’s around 10 AM when Nick comes down stairs and his face tells me everything I need to know about my appearance.

“I know, I look like shit.” I deadpan and he covers his mouth with wide eyes.

“I got Matt’s texts...I thought that motherfucker was being dramatic. Are you feeling any better?” He asks with a hand on his chest.

“Well, I haven’t thrown up in three hours, so that’s a new record. Your poor brother, I kept him up all night,”

“He'll live, do you want to go to urgent care?”

“No, I’ll wait it out. It’s gotta pass and I was able to keep my breakfast down.” I wave a hand.

Nick goes to make his own breakfast, slicing an apple before coming over to sit on the couch with me.

“Apple?” He offers me, munching on his own bite.

I decline shaking my head with a frown.

Nick wanted to watch Love Island, so I let him change the TV, feeling my eyelids grow heavy. As the sounds of the show filled the room, I found myself dozing off, giving in to the rest my body needs.

When I wake up, I have a blanket over me and Nick is editing on his laptop.

He notices me move and takes his headphones off one ear.

“Hey, you feeling better? Matt keeps pestering me for updates,” He shows me his phone with messages from a worried Matt.

I sigh, “Jesus...I’ll call him. But yes, I feel better now that I've gotten some sleep.” I get up and stretch my body, wincing at my achy muscles.

“How long was I out?” I ask grabbing my phone to see my own set of messages from Matt.

Kid worries too much.

“About 3 hours, you were knocked out. I’m gonna order food, are you hungry for anything?” He asks and my stomach rumbles at the thought of one food.

“I could fuck up some tacos right now,” I raise an eyebrow at him at my suggestion.

“I like the way you’re thinking.” He snaps his fingers pointing at me in agreement.

“Birria tacos for me and a Diet Coke. I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go call your brother before he has a heart attack.” I say walking to Matt’s room and calling him.

He picks up on the first ring.

“Hey,” He breaths out, his voice soft.

“What did I tell you about worrying about me?” I tease him and he laughs, sounding relieved.

"Hi!" I heard Chris shout in the background, before I heard a door close and Matt sigh. I'm guessing he went into a separate room.

“If you saw the state you were in before I left this morning, you’d be worried too. I take it you’re feeling better? Heard you napped,” He speaks up again, talking at a normal volume now.

“I was physically feeling the state I was in. But, yeah, a little better after my nap. How was your flight?” I ask, playing with the trinkets on his shelves.

“Besides me worrying the entire flight about you dehydrating and dying? Fine. A little turbulence, but nothing crazy.”

“Okay, drama, relax. I’m staying hydrated, I’ve napped, Nick and I are about to order some tacos. It must have just been a bug. I must admit, you're very cute when you worry about me though.” I smile and he hums shly.

A beat of silence goes by and I look at the photobooth picture of Matt and I on his wall.

“I miss you,” I admit to him, leaning down to inhale the collar of his sweatshirt on me.

“I miss you too. You know I haven't even been gone 12 hours though,” He reminds me, sounding amused at my unexpected sappyness.

I sigh, “I know,”

Suddenly I have a lump of emotion in my throat and he automatically hears the switch of my tone.

“Hey woah, what happened? Why are you upset?” He sounds panicked.

“Oh my god, sorry. I don’t know. I’m not even sad,” I choke back my tears.

“Doesn’t sound like it.." He doesn't sound convinced. "Do I need to come home?" He says next and I'm immediately objecting.

“What! No. Matt, I promise I’m fine.” I tell him quickly, taking off my hoodie as I begin to overheat.

“I love you... I’ll be back before you know it, okay? S'nothing we haven’t done before.” He reminds me softly and my bottom lip wobbles.

“Mhm,” I manage to get out and he sighs again.

“Sweetheart... You’re telling me not to be worried, but I’m beyond worried. Can you please tell me what’s wrong?” He pleads and I shake my head even though he can't see me.

“I honestly couldn’t tell you...I-i think I just needed to cry, and missing you isn’t helping because I wish I could hug you but you’re so f-far,” I hiccup.

“Okay, deep breaths, how about you take a nice hot shower–maybe a bath. Use Nick’s bath and when you’re done, you can eat your tacos and you’ll feel better. Okay? Listen, Chris and I are about to leave for dinner, are you going to be alright?” He checks in, sounding hesitant to hang up.

“Yes, I’m fine. Seriously. I’m sorry. I must be starting my period soon.” I compose myself, trying to ignore the sudden ache in my heart.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, his voice gentle and sweet.

Any other time, he’d be teasing me for being a crybaby—lovingly, of course—but I think he senses that my emotions are genuinely beyond my control right now.

“I love you,” he says again with emphasis, wanting to hear me say it back.

“I love you, so much," I say weakly, "Have fun at dinner and tell Chris I said hi.” I tell him, wiping my eyes.

“Will do. I’ll call you when we get back.” He says goodbye, hanging up.

I take a deep breath and I shake my head, feeling frustrated with my poorly-timed emotions. I feel terrible for worrying him more, I wanted this trip for him to be fun. Chris had really been looking forward to going with Matt—it had become a sort of tradition for the two of them. I need to get my emotions under control.

I wince again as I feel the heaviness and soreness in my breasts. Sighing, I go to my phone and check my period app to see when this torture will be over.

My stomach drops when I open the app and see I'm 13 days late.

My head feels dizzy suddenly and I pinch my eyes closed as the pit in my stomach spurs on more nausea. I lay back and put my arm over my eyes and take deep breaths.

My mind races, but I can’t seem to focus on one thought.

No, I can’t be.

I’m just stressed, that’s all.

I have an IUD, it's not possible.

But everything's adding up; the nausea, heightened emotions, late period...

I sit up slowly, feeling the weight of the realization settle on me. My heart pounds in my chest and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block out the flood of emotions threatening to drown me. But there’s no escaping this.

With trembling hands, I go to call Matt back, my thumb hovers over the call button but I stop myself. He’s going to dinner right now, on the opposite side of the country.

I can't burden him with this, not when I don’t even know for sure.

Dropping my phone onto the bed beside me, I try to self soothe, taking deep breaths to steady myself, but the anxiety is relentless.

I walk out of the room and Nick is asking me what kind of salsa I want with my tacos before he looks up at me. He immediately furrows his brows in worry.

“Hey–what's going on, are you okay?” He sits up and places his laptop on the coffee table.

“I-I can't breath,” I gasp, reaching out for him, feeling like a little kid.

He instantly stands up, wrapping his arms around my shoulders.

“What’s happened? Deep breaths, big deep breaths. There you go,” He rubs my back and I breath deeply with him.

My cheek smushed into his chest as I listen to the beating of his heart to help ground me. I pull away, still trembling and shake my head, unsure if I should even be telling Nick this.

This should be Matt.

Nick's eyes search mine, sensing my hesitancy. “You don’t have to talk if you’re not ready,” he says softly, his hands rubbing my shoulders.

I bite my lip, feeling a mix of guilt and desperation.

I don’t want to drag Nick into something so personal, but this is too overwhelming to keep bottled up.

“I… I think I might be pregnant,” I finally whisper, the words barely escaping my lips.

Saying it out loud makes it feel all the more real, and the weight of it presses down on me like a ton of bricks.

Nick’s expression shifts from worry to shock, his mouth falling agape and silence ringing between us. Once he hears me whimper, he snaps out of it and brings me back into a bone crushing hug.

"Shh, okay–it's okay, um…” His voice wavers, and I can feel his heart racing against my cheek.

For a moment, it seems like he’s trying to find the right words, but all that comes out is a nervous laugh.

“This is… wow, this is big. I'm sorry– I don't know what else to say right now,” His voice high pitched and shaky.

I can’t help but let out a shaky laugh with him, even through my anxiety.

“Yeah, big,” I agree, my voice barely above a whisper.

Nick pulls back just enough to look at me, his uncertainty showing in the way his eyes dart around, trying to process everything at once.

“I mean, I’m no expert on this—obviously—but we'll figure this out. You're gonna be okay, everything's gonna be okay.”

His reassurance is genuine, but I can see he's trying to convince himself too; a flicker of doubt in his eyes.

This is uncharted territory for both of us.

Nick and I had decided to order the tests along with the food, killing two birds with one stone. He’s doing his best to stay calm for my sake, but the trembling of his hands as he places the order is hard to miss.

"Okay, tacos and tests are on the way. I got, well, all of them because I don't know which one is best. I even got ice cream. Fuck, when did it get so hot in here? I'm overheating–are you overheating?" He says, his words moving a mile a minute as he fans himself with his shirt.

I can't help but to laugh as his nerves show and he shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, I know you're the one potentially knocked up by my idiot brother but I'm just so nervous. I'm sweating like a monster," His voice cracks.

"Do you mind if I use your bath?" I ask and he nods right away.

“Are you kidding? Of course, go ahead. Someone has to use it. I’m gonna…Well, I’ll just wait out here and try to chill.” He gives me a quick, reassuring smile, though it’s clear he’s still on edge.

I head to his bathroom and try to forget about my racing thoughts.

I turn the faucet on and put in some bath salts, checking the temperature before I step over to the vanity mirror. I take a look at my appearance and notice the puffiness in my face right away. My cheeks are flushed and my eyes are bloodshot.

I blow out a raspberry as I undress and get into the hot water.

The heat soothes my aching muscles and clears my mind. I soaked for a while, even draining a bit of the water and refilling the tub with more hot water. Once I feel myself pruning, I decide it's time I get out.

As I dry myself off, I notice light blood on the towel. My heart races, and I quickly check again—I'm bleeding. Very lightly, but there’s blood.

Relief floods through me, and I almost cry again, this time from the emotional whiplash. My legs feel shaky, so I sit down on the edge of the tub to steady myself, my breath coming out in shaky bursts.

Clutching the towel to my chest, I close my eyes and let out a long, relieved sigh.

“Thank God,” I whisper, feeling tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

I try not to dwell on the small part of me that almost wanted to feel disappointed. Maybe even mourning the part of me that might have embraced being pregnant–excited, even.

Instead, I focus on center of my emotions, the part where a massive weight has been lifted off my shoulders. Eventually, I pull myself together, cleaning myself up and getting dressed.

When I step out of the bathroom, Nick is on his bed, clearly trying to keep himself distracted. My eyes go to the food and the tests at the foot of the bed.

As soon as he sees me, he shoots up, his expression immediately shifting to one of concern.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice soft. I nod, a small smile breaking through the lingering anxiety.

“I’m okay,” I say, my voice a little shaky. “I uh…I got my period, I think,”

Nick’s face lights up with relief, his shoulders visibly relaxing. “Oh, thank God,” he shouts, “This is great fucking news—right?” He checks in and I nod.

“Yeah,” I agree, feeling a little dazed by how quickly everything has turned around. “I think we’re in the clear. We won't be needing those tests, I'll pay you back for them,"

Nick ignores me, pulling me into a bear hug, his arms so tight around me, I can barely breath.

“Shut up I don't care,” he says, “You don't have a parasite in you!" He cheers, jumping us up and down.

We both let out laughs, the tension that had been looming over us now replaced with a lightness.

“Let’s eat,” I suggest, letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

Nick nods, "Couldn't agree more,"

We sit on his bed and for the first time all day, I feel like I can actually breathe.

As we dig into the tacos, Nick puts Love Island back on and we rot in bed for a few hours.

But even as we talk and laugh, there's still a pit in my stomach. A small portion of me can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t over yet.

Yeah, there's was blood. But it was different than my normal period. It was lighter.

I try not to panic, but I can't help but feel like my intuition is trying to tell me something. For now, I push my thoughts aside, focusing on Nick beside me yelling at the annoying horny people on his TV.

Nick offered for me to sleep in his room but I declined, wanting to sleep in Matt's bed.

Matt never called me, but he texted me apologizing and checking in on me. I listened to a voice memo he sent me of all they did today and I was genuinely glad he was having fun, so I didn't mind him not calling.

Plus, I'm not entirely sure I'm in the right state of mind to have a conversation with him right now. I wouldn't be able to keep today's events to myself.

I know I can’t keep him in the dark—I need to tell him what’s going on.

I glance at the stack of tests on his dresser and sigh. The bleeding from earlier has stopped, leaving me with a pit in my stomach.

I know I’ll have to take those tests, even if only for clarity. But for now, I’m going to force myself to sleep.

I find myself in a place that feels both familiar and strange. It's warm, the sun showering the garden and I immediately know I'm in my grandmother's backyard.

The breeze picks up, carrying the scent of blooming flowers—lilies, hyacinths, peonies, and marigolds—enveloping me in a peacefulness that feels like a comforting blanket.

I walk along the familiar stone path, my fingers grazing the soft petals of the flowers. Each step feeling like a compelling, magnetic pull, guiding me deeper into the garden.

I see her then–my grandmother, seated on a wooden bench beneath the shade of the large oak tree I used to climb as a child.

My breath hitches, she doesn't look sick. Her smile is lively, her cheeks rosy and the green in her eyes vibrant.

But there’s something else different, a kind of ethereal glow about her that sends a chill down my spine.

“Come here, my girl,” she says, her voice soft and inviting.

I walk over to her, feeling a strange mix of emotions: comfort, longing, and an inexplicable sadness.

I sit down beside her and she takes my hand in hers, her touch warm and reassuring.

“I’ve missed you,” I say, my voice thick with emotion, unable to fathom her not sick in a hospital bed.

She smiles, her eyes full of love. “I haven't gone anywhere."

There’s a pause as I try to process her words, but then she looks at me knowingly, another shiver down my spine.

"You're glowing," She hums, tucking my hair behind my ear.

I look at her confused until she places a hand to my stomach. My breath hitches and I can't control the tear that rolls down my cheek.

I shake my head in disbelief, "How...d-do you know?" I whisper, my voice getting lost in the intoxicating breeze.

It's then that I feel a deep flutter in my stomach, one that I can't describe.

I place my hand over my grandmother's that still rests on my stomach. The flutter intensifies, my heart mimicking the pattern as warmth blooms in my chest. The feeling is overwhelming.

An unexpected, joyous sob escapes my lips before I can stop it, tears blurring my vision.

“You're both going to be okay,” My grandmother says softly, gently wiping away my tears.

My lip wobbles and I let out a shaky breath before she speaks up again.

“She’s strong too, just like you.”

“She..?” I squeak. My grandmother’s smile returns, softer this time and she nods.

A wave of shock and confusion washes over me, but before I can ask more, the garden begins to fade. The colors bleeding into each other until everything is a swirl of light.

Her voice echoes as the dream dissolves, “Don't be afraid, Petal.”

I shoot up, my heart racing, my face soaked in tears and my body covered in a cold sweat. I feel disoriented as I take in my surroundings and my mind tries to grasp the remnants of the dream.

My grandmother’s face, her words, the fluttering in my stomach. But now, that fluttering has turned into a twisting feeling in my gut.

Something was wrong.

My phone buzzes, startling me out of my tangled, fuzzy thoughts. My hands tremble slightly as I reach for my phone.

It’s my mom.

“Hello?” I answer, my voice thick with sleep and confusion.

There’s a pause on the other end, and then my mom’s voice comes through, shaky and heavy with emotion.

“Honey...I'm sorry I'm calling you so early, but it’s Grandma....Sh-she passed in her sleep early this morning.”

The words hit me like a punch in the gut, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. She continues to talk but I can't hear her, my ears ring and time slows down.

A flood of emotions overcome me.

Grief, shock, and the strange sense that the dream was more than just a figment of my imagination.

As the reality of her passing sinks in, I’m left with the weight of her final words to me. She was telling me something important, something I can’t ignore anymore.

My stomach twists again and I bolt to the bathroom where I throw up until I'm dry heaving into the toilet.

-

I'm not even shocked when the test immediately shows up positive. I stare blankly at the two pink lines, the only hint of emotion is the tremor in my hand as I grab the test and chuck it into the trash can.

I feel numb.

Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I see the emptiness in my eyes, the darkness encasing them. The person staring back is a stranger.

I'm pregnant.

I should be feeling joy, maybe even excitement—I want to at least, but all I feel is nothing. My experience overshadowed by my grief. By the anomaly of this situation, how this could have happened.

I have an IUD, I was bleeding, but here we are.

I wanted Matt to be the first to know, to share in that moment with him, but now everything feels wrong, out of order.

I feel robbed of the happiness I should be feeling.

I step into the shower and let the scalding hot water claw at my skin. I finally let myself break down, grief rattling through me and slicing me open.

My dream replays in my mind over and over again. My grandmother's eyes, her warmth, her words, her hand on my stomach.

“You’re both going to be okay,”

My hand instinctively goes to my stomach. I press my palm into my abdomen, expecting to feel that flutter, desperate to feel any sort of connection with the life that's there–to cling to the intense joy from my dream...but there's nothing.

It was ripped away from me from the moment I woke up.

“She’s strong too, just like you,”

I whimper, the sound dissolving into the rush of the water.

I don’t feel strong. I feel weak.

My grandmother told me not to be afraid, but I can’t escape this overwhelming anxiety, the suffocating uncertainty that engulfs me.

The tightness in my chest, the heaviness in my heart, the deep-seated guilt that festers within me.

I cry and cry and cry until I can’t anymore, until the tears run dry, leaving only the ache in my chest.

When the water turns cold and the sun fully rises, is when I finally get out. My feet drag beneath me as I walk back into Matt's room and get dressed.

I pull on one of Matt's crewnecks and some sweats before I go into the kitchen to make a tea.

I make myself an Earl Grey, my grandmother's favorite.

I sit down at the dining table and book the first flight back home to Maine, which is tomorrow morning. My mom and I spoke again and she told me the funeral isn't until next week, but I wanted to be there for her. I couldn’t stay here right now.

My stomach growls loudly and I press my palms into my eye sockets. I suppose I should really eat something with substance, especially now.

I grab the berries from the fridge that are in their last leg, washing them before forcing myself to eat. The tartness of the blueberries sparks a memory of helping my grandmother make blueberry pancakes on Sunday mornings. I smile sadly at the fond memory of being her little sous chef.

When 7 AM rolls around, restlessness overtakes me and I step outside, sitting in the front stoop before calling Matt.

"You're up early," His voice thick with sleep as he greets me through the line.

"Hey," I say weakly, letting out a sigh as I gaze up at the clear sky. There's not a single cloud in sight.

"What's wrong?" His tone immediately shifts to concern.

"Matt... my grandma passed this morning," I start, my voice trembling slightly.

I omit the dream and the positive pregnancy test in his bathroom, grateful that he can't see my face.

There's a heavy sigh on the other end. "I'm so sorry. I know she was sick for a while... Are you doing okay? How's your mom?"

"I'm... managing. And my mom, she's actually doing okay. I think we're all relieved in a way, you know? It was only a matter of time. I'm just glad she's not suffering anymore," I navigate my feelings about her passing, my voice surprisingly steady.

"Of course," His voice is so soft, fueling my longing for his touch.

"Do you think…there's any way you can change your flight on Tuesday to go to Maine? The funeral isn’t until next Thursday, but I’m getting there tomorrow afternoon." I ask, playing with a loose string on my sweatpants.

"Of course, I'll look at flights right now," he responds without hesitation.

"Thank you, I just....I need you there," I tell him, feeling a tightness in my chest when I avoid mentioning the conversation we need to have.

"I'll be there. I found a flight that will get me there tomorrow night."

"Matt–" I start to protest.

"I already changed it. No refunds," He cuts me off, his voice firm. "Sweetheart, you need me, I'm not going to make you wait until fucking Tuesday."

"What about the rest of your trip? You'll miss the rest of the festival, and Chris–" I try and reason with him.

"Listen to me carefully...I don't give a fuck about the festival. You need me there, and I'm going to be there. Chris will be fine, he's a big boy. He has Sam here with him and they'll fly back to LA together," His tone leaving no room for argument, his mind was made up.

A small, grateful smile tugs at my lips as tears well up in my eyes.

"I love you," I manage to say, my voice trembles with emotion.

"I love you, so much it hurts. I wish I could hug you right now but I'll see you tomorrow, okay? I’m gonna go talk to Chris, text me or call me if you need me. I mean it, kid."

“I will,” I promise, ending the call and looking up at the sky again, wrapping my arms around myself as the cool morning air brushes against my skin.

I take a deep breath, the air filling my lungs grounding me. As I exhale, I try to focus on the one thing I know for sure—I may not feel strong, but I need to be and not just for myself, but for the life growing inside of me.

My grandmother's words echo in my mind.

"Don't be afraid, Petal."

–

Nick wakes up shortly after, only taking one look at me before I’m breaking down again—the weight of everything crashing down on me like another tidal wave.

I tell him everything, my dream, my grandmother's passing, I show him the positive pregnancy test.

I cry into his chest, feeling overwhelmed.

"I'm just s-so confused," I manage to say between sobs. "In my dream, I was so happy... everything felt right. I felt connected with..." My words trail off, dissolving into incoherent blubbering.

Nick just listens, rubbing my back in slow, soothing circles.

"Listen," he begins softly, "your body is under a lot of stress right now. You just found out about your grandma, and then this very unexpected news on top of it… Every single emotion you’re feeling is normal, and 100 percent valid. But you have so many people by your side who love you and will help you through this, no matter what you decide..."

I sniffle, trying to regulate my breathing as I take in his words.

"I'm angry, too," I admit, my voice cracking with the strain of holding it all in. "This is so unfair. The timing of this couldn't be worse... I can't even talk to Matt and I feel awful keeping this from him. He shouldn't have to find out like this."

"Everything is going to be okay, deep breaths," Nick repeats, his voice calm as he helps me process the flood of emotions.

I blow out a raspberry, pulling back and running my hands down my face in frustration. When I look at him, he's watching me cautiously, trying to read my expression.

"I'm pregnant," I say softly, the words finally leaving my lips for the first time.

A mix of emotions swirls in my chest and stomach—fear, uncertainty, a strange kind of acceptance.

Nick nods slowly, his eyes still scanning my face, and for a moment, I find myself imagining if this was me telling Matt.

More dread fills me.

How will he react? Will he be the support I need?

We’ve talked about having kids before. They were always in the cards for us, but never this soon.

We only just started to discuss getting our own place and now our lives are going to be changing forever.

Nick helped me pack as I tried to arrange a last-minute appointment to confirm my pregnancy, which proved to be quite the ordeal.

The receptionists initially inform me that they didn't have any openings for weeks. However, when I mention the IUD and a positive pregnancy test, the urgency in their voice shifted dramatically.

They told me to come in right away.

The urgency in the receptionists voice on the phone didn’t help my nerves. Neither when they took me straight into an examination room the minute I told them my name.

They take my vitals, draw my blood and give me a cup to pee in.

I left Nick in the waiting room, dressing down into the gown they placed neatly on the exam chair. I look around at the diagrams of the fetuses and the posters of the development. I’ve seen these countless times and never thought twice, but this time I feel unsettled.

I swallow thickly and sit on the loud crinkly paper with the anticipation of the doctor coming in soon.

There’s a soft double knock on the door before a head of wild, curly hair peeks in.

“Hello, hello. I’m Dr. Sullivan,” She says washing her hands and sitting down on the swivel stool next to the examination chair.

The woman has a mane of big, unruly curls that frame her face, with chunky black square-framed glasses perched on her slightly humped nose, drawing attention to her bright hazel eyes. A wide smile, complete with a distinctive gap between her two front teeth, radiates warmth and adds to her quirky charm. She almost seems like a character out of a cartoon—lanky, with an energetic, bouncy stride that matches her bubbly personality. She can't be much older than my mother.

"So, you are in fact pregnant. The lab results confirmed the presence of HCG, which is the hormone produced during pregnancy. "

“Do you have any idea how this happened? I mean, obviously I know how it happened but, I have an IUD.” I say, still trying to wrap my head around the situation.

She nods dramatically, her lips pressing into a line as she listens to my concerns.

“Unfortunately, no birth control is 100 percent effective. In most cases, the IUD might have been displaced, or in some instances, the body rejects the device without you knowing. I actually would like to get clarity on that with an ultrasound, but I think it’s important for you to know the risks of this scenario here.” She says, turning slightly more serious.

“Risks?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes,” she says softly, “There is a possibility that, due to you having an IUD, this pregnancy may not be viable. Having an IUD increases the risk of what we call an ectopic pregnancy... are you familiar with that term?” Her hazel eyes lock onto mine and I shake my head, my heart starting to pound.

“Well, because you have a contraceptive device in the space where a fetus would normally develop, there's a risk that the pregnancy could occur outside the uterus. Typically the egg will implant itself in the fallopian tubes, which cannot host a safe or viable pregnancy...And if not treated immediately, the tube can rupture and cause internal hemorrhaging," She explains gently, carefully choosing her words to convey the seriousness of the situation.

I feel my heartbeat in my ears now as I process her words.

"So you're saying, this can be life threatening...for me and the..." My throat closes up and I can't finish my sentence.

She must take notice of the panic in my face, her round eyes widening slightly.

"If it goes untreated, yes. But I don't say this to make you panic, you're in good hands and whatever happens, we will take the next steps together." She places a hand on my knee, giving the tissue box so I can dry my uncontrollable tears.

"Based on your last period, you should be about seven weeks along. This ultrasound will confirm that and also ensure the pregnancy is positioned in the uterus. Before we proceed, I'd like to ask you a few questions... do you need a minute?" she asks gently, noticing my unease.

I hiccup and shake my head. "N-no, I'll be okay. Sorry," I mumble, wiping my nose.

"Don't apologize," she says kindly, giving me a moment to collect myself anyway, which I appreciate.

For a moment, I consider calling Nick in, but I decide against it. Even though we're close, this may be a little too personal, even for him and I.

"Have you been experiencing any cramping or discomfort in your back or abdomen?" She asks and typing my answer into the computer as I tell her no.

"Any spotting or bleeding?"

"I had some light bleeding last night, it only lasted maybe an hour... I had thought it was my period, but I knew something was off." I explain to her and she nods.

"That was most likely implantation bleeding, which is normal. It can be light spotting of blood, or some women experience heavy bleeding, similar to a period." She continues to take her notes before looking to me again, "Any tenderness in your breasts?"

"Oh, for sure. My breasts have been very sore the past few days,"

"Any nausea or vomiting?"

"Yes, the last couple of days–especially at night, I've been vomiting. I haven't really been sleeping well because of it."

"Yeah, the term 'morning sickness' is misleading... It can happen any time of day, you seem to be experiencing yours during the evening. Any other symptoms you've noticed that you'd like to note?" She asks and I try to think of some things.

"Uhh, I guess I've been more tired than usual, but I chalked that up to being up all night sick...I've also been getting hot flashes recently and I've definitely been more emotional,"

"These are all good to note, thank you very much," She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose before typing again.

She swivels herself back towards me, smiling warmly.

"We'll go ahead with the ultrasound now. But to get an accurate picture, we're going to do a transvaginal ultrasound, if that's okay with you."

"Okay, that's fine," I say, shakily.

She pulls the ultrasound cart to toward her before standing to move the stirrups into place so I can place my feet into them. She places a privacy cloth over me and I take a deep breath.

She puts a covering on the sheath of the ultrasound wand and places lubricant on the top of it. She taps a few buttons on the computer, calibrating the machine before turning towards me with a reassuring smile.

"So this will feel cold and you might feel a little pressure but if you feel any discomfort don't be afraid to tell me." She informs before placing the device inside to create the image.

I try not to wince and try to relax as much as possible. I go to look toward the screen but she has it faced towards her, so I opt to reading her facial expressions.

Dr. Sullivan adjusts her glasses by putting them on the tip of her nose and tilting her head back to get a better view.

She's quite animated with her expressions, her mouth opening slightly in concentration as she looks over the screen.

Although I can't see what she's looking at, she seems pleased, which is a relief.

"Okay, so good sign so far, I see your IUD," Dr. Sullivan says, leaning forward and pointing to the screen. "I can clearly see that it's sitting at the top of your cervix. It’s shifted down and away from your uterus. Do you happen to experience heavy cramping during your cycle?" she asks, her fingers tapping some buttons on the monitor.

"Yes, I do," I reply, the worry still gnawing at me.

She nods thoughtfully. "That could explain the displacement. Sometimes, intense cramping can cause the IUD to shift from its original position. It’s not common, but it does happen. It’s good that we’ve caught it now."

"I see the embryonic sac in, from what I can tell, a great spot. You're measuring at about 6 or 7 weeks along. Size of a blueberry." She says and I stop breathing.

I don't even hesitate to say yes as she asks if I would like to see.

My eyes are glued to the screen as I follow where her finger points, focusing on the grainy image. There it is—a tiny black oval with an even tinier dot in the middle. It's so small, I almost think I'm looking at the wrong thing.

“That’s... them?” I whisper, my voice barely audible as I try to comprehend the sight in front of me.

Dr. Sullivan nods, her expression tender. "That's your baby. It's early, but everything looks promising..."

"Really?" I squeak, still in disbelief, my throat tightening with sudden emotion as more tears fall down my face.

Relief— as she nods in confirmation, handing me the tissue box again.

Hope— as she zooms in, showing me the flickering of the heartbeat.

Joy—as I hear the heartbeat, feeling it sync with the thumping of my own.

For the first time since my dream, I feel joy, something beyond the crippling dread that had loomed over me all day. My heart swells and then bursts as I continue to stare at the flickering dot on the screen, blinking away the tears that blur my vision.

I breathe in shakily before a laugh escapes through a sob.

"Nice strong heartbeat, everything looks as it should... this looks like a healthy pregnancy," Dr. Sullivan announces, gently removing the ultrasound wand but keeping a looped video on the screen, allowing me a few more moments to take it all in.

"She's strong too, just like you,"

"So, the next step—for your safety—would be to remove the IUD today," she continues, her tone calm yet serious. "We can also discuss your options moving forward, including your decision on whether or not you would like to continue with the pregnancy. It's important to weigh all the possibilities and make the choice that's right for you."

"I-I'm gonna continue the pregnancy. It was in no way planned, but–"

"You don't need to explain...I had a feeling" She dismisses me gently, giving me a knowing smile, "I guess this calls for a congratulations,"

"Thank you," I say just above my breath, warmth still blooming through my chest.

After Dr. Sullivan removes my IUD, she tells me to dress while she steps out to calculate my due date.

I stare at the printed ultrasound picture, my heart swelling with a fierce protectiveness. I’m not worried about the complications or uncertainties ahead right now. All that matters is this life inside me.

I feel much stronger than I did merely hours ago.

My due date was February 7th, the same as my grandmother’s birthday.

–

I had landed in Maine a few hours ago, my mom and I were organizing all of my grandma's belongings. We spent the afternoon together, grabbing lunch before heading over to my grandmother's house.

The house always felt like a time capsule, preserving every memory. The duck wallpaper in the dining room, the scent of pine and clove, the worn couch cushions, her miniature schnauzer figurine collection, and the framed pressed flowers from her children’s weddings—everything was always in its rightful place. It always looked the same.

Memories of me and my siblings spending weekends here whirling behind my eyelids as I inhale the familiar scent.

It evokes a bittersweet feeling.

We keep the mood light, sharing stories with each memory we packed away. I still saw the flicker of sadness in my mom's eyes, even through her laughter as we reminisced.

Sitting on the carpet in the living room, we go through the boxes full of pictures to put together a collage for the funeral. I come across a picture of my mother pregnant with my older brother.

It's a candid photo in the kitchen of my grandmother's house, her hand resting on her swollen belly that pokes out the bottom of her blue shirt, a soft smile on her face. My grandmother is beside her, beaming with pride, tying an apron around her waist.

My mother looked so young, her freckles prominent on her flushed cheeks and her smile crinkling the corners of her eyes.

I was always told I looked more like my dad, but seeing her like this, so close to my own age now, I can't help but notice the resemblance.

My mom notices my pause and looks over my shoulder. "That was just a few weeks before your brother was born," she says softly, her voice laced with nostalgia. "Your grandmother knew we were having a boy from the moment we told her,"

Her words send a chill down my spine.

I linger on the photo, feeling a wave of emotion rise up at the mention of my grandmother as the weight of my own news presses heavier on my chest.

"Were you really sick, when you were pregnant?" I ask, lowly.

She hums in thought, "With your brother? Only for maybe the first few weeks. With you though? Forget about it, I was sick everyday for months."

I stay silent for a moment, studying another photo of my mom and dad in the hospital room with my brother the day he was born. My mom is in the hospital bed, looking tired but radiant, while my dad is crouched next to her, gently cradling my brother in his arms.

"He was so bald," I laugh softly, and my mom chuckles beside me.

"His hair was so blonde, it was practically see-through. Your father called him 'egghead' for the first two months of his life," she says, shaking her head and rolling her eyes with a smile.

I look at the photo again, my gaze lingering on my mom's face. Her expression is filled with such warmth and love as she looks at my dad.

"How did you tell dad? You guys were both pretty young," I ask and she stifles a laugh.

"We actually found out together in a gas station bathroom..." She starts off with a slightly shameful smile, "I had been so sick on our camping trip with your aunt and uncle, so I decided on our way back home to take a test. We were shocked to say the least, but we were happy," She shrugs casually.

I think about how I was alone when I found out I was pregnant. Matt wasn't there, and it wasn't his fault, but the last 36 hours of keeping this from him has been torture.

The moment I saw the second line show up with fresh cold sweat still rolling down my neck, I had to bottle up this relentless guilt.

I feel guilt. It wasn't anyone's fault. This is the most serendipitous situation I've ever been in, but I put the blame on me. I have a choice and I'm choosing the route that will completely flip our already hectic lives upside down.

Tethering us together for life.

Even if this decision it feels right, it still carries an enormous weight. It’s not just my life that’s about to change—it's Matt’s too.

I have no doubt Matt will be supportive, but when you're left alone with your thoughts long enough, you can convince yourself of anything.

I've spent every waking minute wondering how he'll react, imagining every possible scenario, from the worst to the best. It's been an endless loop of 'what ifs,' and it’s taken everything in me not to just blurt it out over the phone.

"Were you scared at all? I mean, weren't you like 20?" I press, searching for reassurance in her response.

Her eyes widen before nodding, "Oh, we were scared shitless. Your father almost passed out. We had no idea what we were doing, but hey, we survived. For better or for worse,"

I nod, looking down at my lap and fidgeting with my fingers. My chest feels tight, and the weight of everything becomes almost unbearable.

"Mom, there's something I need to tell you... I–"

"I know," She looks at me with a small smile, her green eyes glistening with tears.

My brows furrow together, giving her a confused look.

"You do?" I ask, my voice trembling.

She shrugs, "I know everything, I'm your mom... Plus, you gagged at the smell of chicken today, that was a dead giveaway." She bites back a smirk and I cover my face, laughing through some tears before looking at her again.

"I guess I’m not as good at hiding things as I thought."

"You never were," She says softly as she scoots closer to me, bringing me into her warm embrace.

I sigh deeply into her, squeezing her tight and breathing in her comforting scent.

"How are you feeling?" she asks, still holding onto me.

"Scared shitless..." I joke and we share a laugh before she pulls back to wipe the tears that escaped against my will, "But I'm happy," I admit, scanning my mother's face for any sign of judgement.

There was none.

She wipes her own few tears, looking at me with only love in her eyes.

"My baby's having a baby,"

"I think grandma sent me this baby," I whisper, allowing my emotions to come through.

My mom tucks my hair behind my ear with her gentle, comforting touch and she listens intently as I tell her my dream. We hold onto each other and cry. I then show her the ultrasound pictures and we talk until the sun disappears.

My phone buzzes softly and I check the message to find Matt’s text that he’s landed and on his way. The reality of his imminent arrival causes a mixed-wave of nausea and guilt to wash over me.

My mom looks at me with a reassuring smile.

"I'll leave you two be so you can talk. I'll see you in the morning, my love." She tells me softly, kissing my cheek and hugging me tight.

Matt and I were gonna stay here during our time in Maine. It's best right now that we have our own space, especially since my brother and his girlfriend are staying by my parents house.

As she heads out, I take a deep breath and text Matt to let him know the door is unlocked. I slip into the shower, trying to calm my racing thoughts and steady my nerves. The warm water helps, but my mind keeps racing as I mentally prepare for the conversation ahead.

Wrapped in a towel, I check my reflection in the mirror, trying to see if I look any more put together than before.

I think this is the best we're going to get.

I jump when I here the front door open and shut, then some feet shuffling. My heart skips a beat.

Matt's here.

"It's just me," I hear him call out as well as more shuffling and a paper bag crinkling.

"Hey! I-I'll be right out!" I call back out, my heart picking up again but I take a deep breath.

I quickly get dressed in a tank top and shorts; there's a heat wave here, and I can't figure out how to adjust the thermostat.

I step out of the bathroom to see Matt standing at the kitchen island, unpacking burgers and fries onto the counter. The aroma of it makes my stomach growl and I realize I hadn't eaten anything since lunch.

I admire him for a second; he's wearing pink sweatpants, a black hoodie and a backwards fitted hat.

He turns at the sound of my presence and his face softens. I'm trembling when he steps forward to embrace me into a tight hug. He buries his face into my neck before giving me a few kisses there.

"Hi," I breath out, my voice shaky.

I was so nervous.

"Hey, you okay?" His voice is so soft, my heart aches. He pulls away, rubbing his hands up and down my arms while scanning my face.

"You're shaking. What's going on?" He presses.

He knows something is up, he can see it all over my face. I shake my head, brushing it off to have one more minute with him.

I pull him back to me, wrapping my arms around his neck this time and locking him against me. He bends down a bit to accommodate but doesn't question it, just hugging me back. His arms wrapping around my waist and pressing our stomachs together.

My heart is slamming against my ribcage and I know he can feel it, his thumb rubbing my hip soothingly tells me he does.

"How are you doing?" His voice is muffled with his face buried into my neck.

"I'm okay, better now that you're here. I missed you," I mumble, kissing the side of his neck and running my hand down between his shoulder blades.

I breath him in, noting the warmth of him and the solidness of his body against me.

"I missed you... I brought us food. I don't know about you, but I'm fucking starving," He puts his hands on my hips to pull back from the hug, but I stay put.

He chuckles, giving me one more squeeze.

I pull back just enough to line our faces up and give him a kiss, which he eagerly returns.

"Thank you for being here, it means a lot," I say against his lips and he pulls back slightly to push my hair out of my face.

"I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else." He hums into another kiss, then places three quick pecks before giving my butt a light tap, signaling that it’s time to let him go.

I finally release him and head to the food on the counter.

"I passed a Five Guys on the way here, so I hope that's good for you," He grabs a handful of fries before munching on them.

As I reach the counter, the smell of the burgers makes my mouth water, and I can’t help but smile at his thoughtfulness.

“Five Guys is perfect, thank you,” I say, grabbing a fry from the bag and tasting its salty warmth.

Matt grins, clearly pleased with himself. “Good, because I was too hungry to think of anything else,” he jokes, unwrapping one of the burgers and handing it to me.

I take it, thanking him quietly, my fingers brushing against his. For a moment, I just look at him.

He’s here, and I should be telling him I’m pregnant with his child, but instead, we’re standing in the kitchen eating burgers. As if I’m trying to cling to this last bit of normalcy before everything changes.

I force myself to take a bite of my burger, moaning at the greasy, savory goodness. Matt smirks at me, taking a hearty bite of his own burger.

“S’good?” he asks through his bite, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

I nod, moaning again in response, savoring the taste as it temporarily distracts me from everything else.

Matt takes a sip of his drink before bringing a napkin to my face and wiping the corner of my mouth and chin.

"Wipe ya lip, kid," He teases and I roll my eyes, grabbing the napkin from him.

Matt inhales another large bite of his burger, and we slip into our familiar rhythm.

He tells me about his brief trip to Chicago, and I’m relieved to hear he managed to gather a few funny stories and catch at least one day of the festival. He’s notably enthusiastic while he talks, and I can’t help but smile at his excitement.

He also reassured me that Chris wasn't upset at all, which I already knew from the sweet text he sent me this morning.

“Well, I’m glad you had fun,” I say, trying to match his enthusiasm.

I then give him the rundown for the next few days while we prepare for the funeral and memorial.

We continue eating, the conversation shifting to lighter topics as we enjoy the burgers and each other’s company.

It feels so easy, so light. It always is with us. But underneath the surface, the words I need to say weigh heavy on my mind, threatening to break the easy rhythm.

Matt watches me closely, his own burger forgotten for the moment as he sees me disappear inside my head again.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks again, his eyes look between mine. “You seem… I don’t know, you're acting weird.” He tries to find the right words.

"Matt..." I go to dismiss him, getting up slowly but he cuts me off, standing up too.

"No, I'm serious. You've been acting weird for days, and I'm no longer 2000 miles away for you to push me away or avoid me." He steps closer to me, trapping me against the counter with his arms on either side of me.

"Is it your about grandma? Did something else happen while I was gone?" He throws out, looking between my eyes.

"I–" I try to speak up but my voice gets caught in my throat and I get lost in the icy storm of his relentless gaze.

"It's not just my grandma," I manage to say, the admission causing him to soften slightly, a glimmer of relief at the small breakthrough.

"Okay, so talk to me, sweetheart. Please, I've been worried sick about you. You have no idea," he pleads, his breath brushing against my skin.

"I didn't know how to tell you..." I try to put together my words but I feel like I'm making it all worse.

I watch as his eyebrows pinch together and he leans down more so he's eye level with me instead towering over me.

"Tell me what, kid. I'm not a mind reader," His voice strains, frustration evident in his face.

When I try to break eye contact with him he pulls my chin to align our eyes again.

"What, d'you crash my car?" he guesses, clearly joking, his eyebrows raising playfully.

I can't help but smile and snort at his attempt to ease the tension.

"No, it’s not that," I say, my voice cracking slightly. "It's much bigger than that," I trail off and he waits expectantly.

"I uh– I went to the doctor yesterday," I pause and study his face, which drops ever so slightly, seeming to be bracing himself.

He stays silent, whether it was out of patience or fear, nothing could have prepared for my next sentence.

"I went to confirm that I was pregnant," I finally blurt out, my voice shaky, and he freezes.

Not one muscle moves in his face or his body.

"You're..." His voice cracks and he clears his dry throat, hitting his chest, "Are you serious?"

"I'm seven weeks, or a month and a half," I stammer, my voice wavering. "I don't really know how to—"

"Seven..." He whispers in disbelief, the shock settling in and I nod. "Y-you were on birth control– you have that AED–"

"IUD, yes, I did. It still happened, that shit is useless if it moves out of place," I explain and he looks down between us.

"A-and everything's okay, you're okay?" He looks up at me again, holding onto my face.

I take hold of his wrists, rubbing my thumb over his skin.

"I'm fine, the baby's fine..." I say softly and his eyes widen in realization as he pales.

"Oh my fucking god," He pulls back, cupping his hands over his mouth. "I need to sit down."

"Okay, okay. Do you want water?" I panic, hoping he doesn't pass out or puke.

He takes a seat at the dining table, shaking his head before taking off his hat and leaning his elbows on his knees.

"Oh my god, I thought I was crazy..." He says, his voice cracking with nerves as he presses his palms into his eye sockets.

"What?" I ask, confused.

"I had a feeling all fucking week," he says, his voice still shaky, and my brows knit together.

"I knew something was up. You were acting different. You were moodier than usual, you were napping all the time—and you never nap... and your tits are huge," he adds, and I roll my eyes.

"Sorry, that’s beside the point," he continues quickly, "I just couldn’t shake the feeling that you could be... I think I was trying to convince myself you weren't, but then you were so sick before I left," he rambles, staring blankly at the wall.

"It's a lot to take in, I know." I swallow thickly as I watch him process everything.

"You're pregnant," he says finally, looking at me again, this time with tears brimming his eyes. "And you were dealing with all of this by yourself," His voice is low and I shake my head, moving to stand between his legs, cupping his face gently.

"Hey, no. None of that... How could you have known?" I shush him and pull his head towards my chest.

His hands rest behind my thighs, his thumb lightly stroking my right leg. I run my fingers through his hair, comforting him as much as he's comforting me.

"I've been so scared to tell you..." I confess softly and he pulls back slightly, looking up at me with his brows furrowed.

"I know this wasn't part of our plan...at least not for a while. But before I took a test, the night my grandma passed, I had a dream. I was here, in my grandmother's garden... and she told me I was pregnant. Matt, the feeling I had," I pause, struggling to find the right words.

"It was the most intense, pure form of happiness I've ever felt. I can't even describe it to you..." I trail off.

I shake my head, "I know, I sound crazy. But I think this was meant to happen." I whisper, heat creeping up my neck at the admission.

He’s silent for a moment, absorbing my words. Then, a slow smirk carves a crease into the side of his mouth. "You are fucking crazy…" he murmurs, his playful tone breaking the tension as his smile lines deepen.

I huff a breathy laugh, the sound catching in my throat as my emotions take over again. Tears blur my vision, and I can’t hold them back any longer.

"Are you mad?" I squeak, letting my fear slip through the dam I built up.

He's immediately shaking his head, his eyes widen with sincerity, "Mad? Of course not. I mean, I thought we'd maybe get a cat first but..." He says, quirking his lip and I can't help the laugh that escapes through a sob.

I was the definition of an emotional wreck.

He gently squeezes my hips as I tip my head back to collect myself.

"Look at me," he says firmly, and I sniffle and hiccup before forcing myself to look at him. "Am I surprised? Yes. Terrified? Definitely. But, not even close to mad."

He wipes my tears tenderly, "We're going to be okay. Take it easy, alright? Deep breaths," His tone gentle but assertive, dragging me out of the pit of my dark thoughts.

I sigh as his thumbs draw circles on the exposed skin on my hips.

"I'm sorry," I say and he pulls me to sit sideways on his lap this time.

"Why are you sorry?" he asks softly, intertwining our fingers and bringing my hand to his mouth for a kiss.

"Our lives are going to change and I feel like it's my fault,"

"C'mere," He pulls me in fully, wrapping his arms around my waist. "I love you, and we're going to get through this... We were gonna do it anyway; we're just getting a headstart, yeah? Everything is going to work out," He tells me softly and I can tell he means every word.

Matt never says anything he doesn't mean.

"Also, don't say stupid shit like this is your fault. Last time I checked, it takes two to tango," He says firmly, lightly slapping my hip.

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat as I lean into him completely, resting my head on his shoulder. His hand rubs gentle circles on my back, and I close my eyes, letting myself soak in the comfort of his presence.

"I missed you so much," I whisper, my voice muffled against his shirt. "I've been so sick, this kid might be trying to kill me," I try to joke, and he breathes a laugh into my shoulder.

A few beats of silence pass, broken only by the distant sound of crickets outside and the occasional creak of the old house settling.

"We're having a kid," He speaks up, realization laced in his voice and I hum against him. "Maybe we're both fucking crazy,"

I stifle a laugh and pull back to look at him, "D'wanna see it?" I ask, getting up from his lap and he looks to my stomach with a raised brow.

"Kid, you're not showing yet," he says, leaning back into the chair with his arms crossed, a playful smirk on his face and I roll my eyes.

"No, the ultrasound. Hold on," I say as I head to the counter to grab the pictures from my bag.

I pull out the strip of photos, and when I turn back, I see Matt standing up and stretching. He takes off his sweatshirt and his shirt riding up slightly, exposing a sliver of his stomach. Heat rises to my face but I can't stare too long though because he's walking towards me to look over my shoulder.

"Okay, what am I lookin' at?" He stands behind me, his hands on his hips as his head tilts in concentration.

"You see this black circle here?" I point to the sonogram, and he leans in closer, his breath warm against my neck as he grabs hold of the paper to steady it.

"Yeah, that's it?" He asks, narrowing his eyes and I giggle.

"No, do you see the tinier white blob inside it? That's the baby." I explain and his face scrunches for a second, looking at the picture again.

"No fucking way," he says in disbelief, a wide smile breaking across his face. "That tiny thing?" His voice raises a pitch as he looks at me, eyes wide with awe, "Can barely fucking see that," He says playfully before rubbing his eyes.

"Mhm," I can't help but giggle as he wraps an arm around me, pulling me in and placing a kiss to my temple. "Just wait til you hear it, the heartbeat was insane. It was so fast," I add and he freezes.

The realization in his face settles in even deeper as I tell him that, his soft smile returning.

"You heard the heartbeat?" He whispers, looking between my eyes and I nod.

"Yeah, yesterday. They emailed me the video of it, I'll show you in a bit if you want," I tell him and he kisses me then like he can't help himself.

"That's fucking nuts... do you feel pregnant?" he asks, his voice curious and his eyes slowly lowering to my stomach peaking out of my tank top.

I shake my head, "Not at all. I just feel like shit... and constantly bloated," I admit, laughing softly.

He lightly chuckles himself, a charmed smile on his face as he reaches to rubs my stomach a couple times.

"We're really gonna have to lock in, kid." He moves around me to pull me into a full hug, pressing our stomachs together.

"Okay, gamer, acting like this is a video game..." I scoff teasingly and he bends down, laughing into my neck.

"Well, what else do you want me to say? We're leveling up..." he continues the joke and I jab his side with my finger.

"Ow," he fake-cries, clutching his side with exaggerated pain before breaking into a fit of giggles.

"Stop saying corny shit, you goof," I warn, though his laughter makes it impossible not to smile.

I bury my face in his chest, my ear pressed against his heart as we settle into a comfortable silence.

"Now we really gotta get our own place," He says and I can hear his smirk.

"I don't know…" I shrug slightly, considering. "Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to stick around for a bit. It might be nice to have the extra help before we go completely on our own."

He pulls back slightly to look at me, tilting his head with an inquisitive expression. "You really think my brothers will be any help? They don’t know anything about babies."

I snort. “Probably not, but neither do we." I reason and his mouth shrugs in defeat.

"Good point... I guess we can wait it out, we're not in a rush. It'll definitely give us more time to research where would want to be somewhat permanently," He points out.

I hum into him and try not stress about that. The reality is we'd be putting ourselves in a tough spot—both our families are here on the East Coast, but our jobs and lives are rooted in LA.

It's easy to go back and forth when it was just us, but now we're gonna have a kid.

"I already hear your mind racing," his voice breaks me out of my thoughts as he rubs my back. "Don't worry, we'll figure it out..." he says softly, and I sigh deeply.

My stomach turns when I get a whiff of the food still laid out on the table.

"Matt," I say, pulling back slowly, holding my stomach.

"Mm?" he hums, looking at me with concern as I put my hand over my mouth.

"The smell of those burgers is making me sick now," I try not to laugh, and he shakes his head, immediately tossing all the trash into the large paper bag it came in.

"Alright, where's the incinerator?"

[makeyoumine69]

Last Memory (Memory Reboot x5)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Some time after Patrick and Evelyn got married, Bateman thought he could live a normal life and finally forget about you, but he didn't realize that he was already starting to lose his grip on reality, slowly but surely.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: NSFW, Patrick's POV, angst, lots of sex, canon violence, blood, near-death experiences, dark themes, obsession, strong hallucinations, blowjobs, pussy eating, rough vaginal and anal sex, cum eating, tainted love vibes, drug use, depressing thoughts and intentions, blackout and fainting, rough choking, spanking, masturbation, cheating, dirty talk and slurs, pet names, degradation kink, self-harm and panic attacks implied, unstable Patrick is a warning himself, I might have forgotten something because this chapter is long af, so forgive me if I really did.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 15k

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐄𝐂: VØJ, Narvent—Last Memory; Timecop1983—Back to You

ᴀ/ɴ: Hello dear readers, I'm sorry to keep you waiting, but I just wanted to make this chapter as good as possible! After several rewrites, I think I am finally happy with the result. I'm very sad that Memory Reboot will end in the next update, but I hope you enjoy this angsty story! Also, there are some easter eggs in this chapter, so be on the lookout! And please be aware that there is a lot of trigger material in this chapter, so be careful! Thank you so much for sticking with me, you are all incredible!

𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]

An annoying, sonorous alarm sound woke me up and I had to hit it with my fist, almost breaking it, to make it fucking stop. Yawning, I sat on the bed and realized that I was still in Evelyn's apartment; these cream-colored sheets made me want to cry from how much I hate them, but instead of ripping them off, I stretched my arms. The tension in my body, coursing from my shoulders down to my groin, was an eloquent sign that I needed release. With a loud groan, I stood up and briefly grabbed my dick through my white underwear, which seemed to have been hard all night since that bitch Evelyn, who was my wife by the way, refused to have sex again. It was the second time in a row. Sliding my messy hair back, I walked into the living room and noticed that Evelyn had already left. I sighed with relief that I didn't have to see her irritated face since I was already on the verge of going nuts.    

In the kitchen, I took the bottle of Evian from the fridge and made a long gulp before checking the time on my Rolex, frowning right away as I remembered Evelyn yapping about me always keeping them on, even when I went to bed. 

God, why can't women have their mouths shut sometimes?

With a wry grin, I placed the bottle on the counter and paused for a moment to check my reflection in the gleaming metal door of the refrigerator. Today’s day in the office was going to be tough as hell since I had a fuck ton of stupid meetings I tried to convince Jean to cancel, but she reassured me that it would be too rude to ignore my business partners for too long. Hmmph…

A bit later, when I was almost finishing my work out, I suddenly realized that it had already been two months since me and Evelyn got married. And no, I couldn’t really believe this since all days were like one long day—a day that seemed to never end. Huffing, I did another push-up, the 50th in a row, feeling not tired at all. Small beads of sweat rolled down my tensed forehead and I could care less about brushing them off as I was so focused on the pleasant feeling of my muscles flexing each time my chest almost touched the mat. Normally, sports could easily help me to distract myself, to let off steam, to feel refreshed and clear-headed, but now I was more detached from reality than ever before. And it seemed that no amount of exercise could help. Also, my condition was aggravated by the lack of sex, proper sex. When my muscles finally began to hurt, I stopped doing everything and just lay on the mat, panting and looking at the ceiling above. Then, I slowly looked down at my groin—still hard as rock–before my hand involuntarily grabbed it, eliciting a small gasp to fall from my wet lips. Fuck, I was about to explode from my own touch. That was not normal at all. It was pathetic.

Frustrated, I was certain that even a quick release in the shower wouldn’t soothe my mounting tension. It never did, considering that over the past few days I couldn’t even sleep, and what was worse was that even violence couldn’t bring me this much-needed relief. As I made my way to the bathroom, I was thinking, literally drowning in my obsessive thoughts.

I need more…I really need to get this done. I REALLY NEED IT! I NEED THEM!

 I bit my lip and turned on the shower, then got rid of my white boxers, stepped out of them, and strided on the cold marble. The water washed over me like a tidal wave. I closed my eyes and let the steam splash along my flushed face. My skin felt like it was on fire, as if I were about to crash into the sun. I couldn't find any way to relax. I felt desperate and angry. I was pretty mad, too. But would killing you have helped me find peace? 

If I knew you were gone, if no one could ever be with you the way I was, would that be what I wanted?

 I let out a deep, exhausted sigh and pressed my forehead against the wet tiles, ignoring the way the tip of my cock brushed against the wall, sending tingles into my very core. The images of you covered in blood, trapped beneath me, almost sent me over the edge. I didn't let myself think about it for too long, though, because I knew it would lead to addiction. As if I weren't already hooked. My breathing got a little uneven, and I started scratching at the white tiles as I got hit by a sudden, intense rush of memories. I remembered your voice, your moans, and the way you screamed my name. I wanted to ruin you, to make you bleed, to tear you apart and leave you just like you left me. The pain you caused was so deep, it lingered. I was so caught up in the moment that I didn't realize what I was doing. I let my hand rest on my throbbing length while the fingers of my other hand slid down my lower back, right between my legs. The moment I touched my tensed asshole, I moaned. I was loud and needy. I was embarrassed but also aroused. I thrust into my hand, slowly at first but gradually losing control, while my digit slid inside my ass completely with ease. I couldn't hold back my whimpers as I was about to cum. My vision was filled with blood, intensifying my fantasies about you. With my eyes closed, I was on the brink of losing it when I suddenly heard some commotion coming from behind the bathroom door. 

"Damn!" I groaned and hit the wall in front of me, my dick pulsing even after I let go of it.

"Honey," Evelyn's voice echoed through the bathroom. I turned to see her casually walking to the shower, her blue eyes curiously examining my bare frame as if she was seeing me like this for the first time. "You didn't close the door."

Fuck, I really didn't.

Scrunching my nose, I pushed my wet hair back and spun around completely, giving her the full view of my nakedness. "I thought I'd leave before you got back..." my reply was brash and sharp. "...at least I hoped so."

Evelyn didn't react, she just stood in front of the shower, blinking and staring at me—at the way the water flowed down my sculpted body, to be exact—and something told me that just watching wasn't going to be enough for her.

"So... are you just going to stay and watch?" I said aloud before opening the glass door and letting some steam out of the shower. 

The blonde grinned broadly but remained motionless. "You're not trying to bait me like that, are you?" 

Jesus Christ, this woman is really driving me crazy.

Irritated, still struggling with my boner, I wanted to drag her into the shower without even asking and make her freshly bought Chanel suit so fucking shitty that she would definitely throw a tantrum, but I managed to control myself.

Leaning against the wet glass, I watched her unclasp her jewels, gems that shone in the dim bathroom light, my hands instinctively slipping down to my aching cock as I was now the one watching Evelyn take off her jacket, the delicate shape of her collarbones forcing me to admit that my wife was, after all, absolutely gorgeous and even though I didn't feel anything... sublime towards her, I couldn't deny that every time she did things like that, she stirred up a burning desire in me.

"What if I do?" My voice dropped lower from the tension building at the base of my spine. "You'll find another stupid excuse to deny me, like you always do?" I gave myself a slow stroke, biting my lips and quickly licking them as Evelyn removed her blouse and placed her leg on the edge of the tub, pulling up her skirt so I could see her black stockings. "Why didn't you go for Bryce when you had the chance?"

My body stopped listening to me as I said these words, as if I was hypnotized, but I felt no remorse, only a pang of conscience for how pathetic I probably was right now, standing in the shower jacking off to the woman I didn't really love, who was probably having an affair with my best friend all this time as a bonus.

"And you're bringing up Bryce again," Evelyn murmured, grinning like a vixen, her hands working meticulously to remove her stockings, stopping only when she was done with her expensive clothes, leaving herself only in a white Vanity Fair lingerie I'd bought her a few days ago to stop her hysteria. "Why is this only bothering you now...after we got married?"

"W-what?" I almost choked on my breath, my hand around my cock stalled in its momentum. "What are you talking about? It...it never bothered me."

Still, her words struck a chord within me and now I was even more angry with myself than before. Evelyn obviously thought she was in control of this situation—her extra confident demeanor, the way she moved and talked, even her blue eyes looked different now, as a wicked spark glinted in them. 

For a fleeting moment, I just stood there, trying to lose myself in the warm streams of water, not really knowing what to say, and a suffocating panic crept into my chest, but then, as I found myself gripping the glass shower door with all the force I could muster so that it wouldn't shatter, my vision blurred for a second before I noticed Evelyn's slender body pressed against the glass, her small but pretty breasts looking so damn inviting that I couldn't hold back a groan.

"What were you saying?" She asked indifferently, the water gurgling mixing with her voice inside my head pulling me into a trance.

"Nothing," I replied, leaning forward and pressing myself against the glass door from the opposite side, my dick brushing against it ever so slightly, but even this mere contact made me close my eyes for a dear moment. "I said nothing..." my eyes darkened, pupils dilated. "Now...get in...will you?" I grinned and tilted my head, watching my wife flutter her thick eyelashes like bird wings.

Evelyn didn't answer, standing still with her body pressed against the shower door, and I couldn't hold back anymore—I just dragged her in, not caring about her expensive lingerie getting soggy—I'd buy her a new one if I had to. With a surprised squeal, she then giggled as the streams of water ran down her fit body, her elegant fingers stroking my cheek for a fleeting moment before I picked her up and turned her around to press her against the cool marble wall. Evelyn's gasp echoed through the bathroom, sending a shiver down my spine, as if I were really into her, into all of this, and if that was not me imagining you in her place, if that was not making me want to be somewhere else right now.

Somewhere where nobody could find me. Us. 

"Patrick," Evelyn's voice pulled me out of my thoughts. "Can you hear me? The water's too hot..."

"Too hot?" I repeated, finding her statement so funny for no reason, but I cooled the water with my free hand anyway, still holding Evelyn in my arms as if she weighed nothing. "I'd say something like..."

"It's not the water that's making it hot, it's me," she cut me off, her face turning into a serious grimace, and for a second I felt like I was going to lose my shit. Is she making fun of me? "I've heard that enough, honey."

Frowning at that fucking nickname I really hated, I noticed the way she was pressing on my shoulders, implying that she wanted me to get her down on the floor, and I did—I didn't want to think, I didn't want to guess what was going through her mind—I just wanted to follow. To feel at least something beyond hatred and disgust. But I guess that was too much to ask.

Without saying a word, I knelt before Evelyn, leveled myself with her perfectly waxed pubic area, her breath hitching as I planted a soft kiss on her mound before tracing a finger along her wet from the water folds through the absolutely drenched fabric of her panties, which were now clinging to her like a second skin. I looked up at her with a mischievous grin, the water hitting my eyes painfully, but I held on to watch that raw need emanating from her body—savoring it like a vampire thirsty for blood.

My actions were smooth, calculated. When I got rid of her damp lingerie, I let the wet clothes that were now spread out on the shower floor fall to the ground, forgotten, and I was sure that Evelyn would have to throw them in a garbage can when we were done. The involuntary arch of her back, her hips brushing against my face and the moan she let out when the tip of my tongue flicked around her feverish clit, that was something I could live with. 

Letting Evelyn grind against my face, I began to eat her pussy more feverishly, my one hand holding her open while another was wrapped tightly around my hard dick as I jerked off in sync with my oral ministrations. It was actually a turn-on, but only because I managed to block out all thoughts of you... In another situation they would have helped me to orgasm, but now... now they would only destroy everything. 

I groaned when Evelyn pulled my hair harder than I liked, but I didn't want to punish her for it, not now, because I was still going to fuck her and this would be a perfect moment to show her how I felt and what I really needed. But then again, all of this made me feel pathetic in some odd, twisted way, that I was a starved dog who had to struggle to find barely any food to survive—what was my life—I was not living, I was surviving.

"Yes...yes...just like that," Evelen keened again as I tongue fucked her flushed cunt. "Keep...g-going..."

I could feel that she was so close to collapsing, it was kind of amusing how fast I could always make her cum, if only she knew that I always did it for myself, not for her, but for me. "Cum around my face," I spat out, my overalls buzzing from the tensind at the base of my cock; these little tingles were going to make me explode, but I didn't hesitate, increasing the pace of my own stroking. "Let it go. Now!"

My voice was muffled, gruff, I was sure its vibration only added to the overwhelming rush of bliss that was about to descend upon my wife as her legs began to tremble, her thigh on my shoulder jerking as I dipped my tongue inside her while my thumb caressed her oversensitive bud. And then she climaxed, convulsing and barely holding herself from screaming, I watched as she silenced herself with her palm, her eyes closed tightly, I reveled in such reactions, I always had, so I didn't stop as I wanted to prolong this scene—a scene full of fake emotions and this was just an echo of something I had experienced and lost— because if I stopped, I would fucking die.

Maybe this is what I always needed? Just to...stop existing?

Panting, I finally moved away from her hot, now swollen cleft, my own heart pounding so fast, but I couldn't move, I just stayed on my knees, the water falling on me like a heavy rain from that day I followed you to the airport and watched the plane take you away from me. For the second fucking time in a row.

Meanwhile, Evelyn was slowly coming down from her high, her chest heaving and falling so fast that for a moment I thought she was going to pass out, but then she turned and leaned against the wall, swaying her hips in the most inviting gesture I'd ever seen her make.

"Shit," I murmured almost imperceptibly, my basic instincts finally taking over. "You want me to fuck you?"

Gasping, she nodded and craned her neck to look back at me, I quickly stood and hugged her from behind, my lips tracing a short trail of kisses along her shoulder as I aligned myself with her entrance, she was so aroused and ready for me that I felt no resistance as I pushed myself into her malleable body. Just a few fleeting seconds for both of us to adjust before my pace picked up, the sound of wet flesh against flesh filling the room, and I pressed closer to Evelyn, her high-pitched moans fading in my delusions as I gave in—the images of you were so clear in my mind now that I clenched my teeth to hold back my own moans—I was weak and I hated myself for it.

Luckily Evelyn was on the pill so I didn't have to worry about a sudden pregnancy, but there was still some fear I tried desperately to ignore, my thrusts became ragged, raw and deep, I was about to spill myself inside her, both palms cupping her breasts, rubbing soft mounds, but then I squeezed them quite roughly and Evelyn's loud whimper was a sheer testament to my ferocity. Feeling my whole system shatter, I managed to stop myself from sinking my teeth into her neck as my vision turned white as I reached my peak with your name on my lips, though I never let myself say it out loud.

A little later that morning, as I dressed in my freshly tailored dark charcoal flannel double-breasted suit with wide white pinstripes, the sun was high in the zenith and its rays bathed Evelyn's bedroom in a soft golden hue. This brief encounter of intimacy with my wife gave me some hope that maybe there was still a chance to live a normal life, the one my mother and father always wanted for me, the American dream family they always told me about, but my parents never really tried to understand me, but since Sean chose a different path in life, not the RIGHT one, the legacy of my family fell on my shoulders.

Trapped in my thoughts, I didn't even notice the phone ringing somewhere next to me, I turned around to see a small black phone on the nightstand. At first I decided to ignore it, since I didn't really care about Evelyn's business, I didn't care at all, but this time something inside of me started to sting.

Who can call her at this hour?

With a soft click of my tongue, I finished adjusting my cufflinks and looked back at the buzzing phone, deciding to pick it up and find out who the hell was calling my wife. "Yes? Who's this?"

"Hello, Patrick," your voice crawled into my brain like a parasite, I swallowed, my skin covered in goosebumps and I sweated almost instantly. "How's it going? Don't you think it's a bit pathetic to think of me when you're banging your lovely wife?"

"You?" Was the only thing I managed to say. "Where did you get this number?"

I heard you laughing as if you were right next to me. "Tim gave it to me," you replied with blatant audacity. "Uh...you're not happy to hear me? That's a shame because I thought you missed me."

"Listen," I spat into the phone, gripping it so tightly that it was about to break in a half in my hand. "I don't know who you think you are...but believe me when I say I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOU AND YOUR FUCKING LIFE! DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

"Patrick? Who are you talking to?" I turned to see Evelyn standing in the doorway, her blue eyes full of concern.

Caught red-handed, I took the phone away from my ear and chuckled. "It's just...a random call...nothing serious." When I said that, her face became even more worried. "Is something wrong, darling?"

Evelyn blinked several times before answering. "I definitely remember turning off the phone before I went to sleep...I always do..."

Her words hung in the air for some time before I could actually continue, and when I finally did, I tugged at my collar from the sudden lack of oxygen in my lungs.

What the fuck?

Under Evelyn's attentive gaze, I looked up at the receiver as if seeing it for the first time in my life, then I pressed it to my ear again and all I heard was silence—a deafening, eerie silence—even a single beep could not be discerned. My throat tightened uncomfortably and I felt like throwing up from the tight knot in my stomach, for I'd never felt such fear before.

"Patrick...are you okay?" The blonde woman asked, not daring to come closer. "Are you taking the medicine your psychiatrist prescribed you..."

"Evelyn!"

"No, I'm serious! This isn't funny Patrick, I'm scared," she suddenly confessed and I swore I couldn't remember seeing her so worried. "You need help...why don't you let people help you?"

With that Evelyn stormed out of the bedroom and I was sure she was crying. Damn women, never give you a chance to explain yourself. I cursed before slamming the phone down on its station with a thud, probably shattering the plastic, but who fucking cared? All they cared about was whether I was taking those fucking pills, but no one really cared about...me. 

It took me some time to calm down and finally go to work. I didn't talk to Evelyn before I left, as it was pointless in her current state. As soon as I was outside, I breathed in the fresh air and watched the passers-by walking here and there without even noticing each other, this scene I saw every day, I picked out my Walkman like in a slow motion movie, put the headphones on my head and then attached it to my belt, the next moment I heard Madonna's deep voice surging through my head.

The taxi ride to the Pierce & Pierce office took longer than usual because of the heavy traffic. When I finally entered the high-rise building, I didn't take off my headphones because I didn't really want to talk to anyone, I just walked through the long corridors like a ghost without a name. It was really interesting that I never really thought about my fucking coworkers constantly messing up my name—they didn't know who I was even though we met every week—but you—you remembered it so clearly, there wasn't a single day that you mistook me for someone else. Jean greeted me as always with her sweet smile. Today she wore a dress and high heels. I smiled at such details and pulled up my headphones so I could hear her. 

"Did I miss anything?" I asked casually, thinking I was late as I often was.

Brushing her blonde hair, my secretary rose from her seat, clutching her favorite notebook to her chest. "Timothy Bryce called to ask about lunch."

My eyebrows raised in skepticism at her words.

Bryce. Wants to see me after not talking to me for almost a week. Interesting.

"Uh, right, but I thought I had a pretty busy schedule today?" I asked nonchalantly.

"Well, yeah," she quickly opened her notebook and then raised her bright eyes to me. "But you have a little window..."

At some point, Jean's voice became as much white noise as Madonna's song, the lyrics of which slipped away from me like a leaf in the wind. The thought of Tim finally revealing that he and Evelyn were having an affair behind my back, as if they really thought I could be stupid enough not to notice, brought me a strange sense of relief. It was like an itchy splinter in your finger that you couldn't bring yourself to pull out, but you knew that the longer it stayed there, the worse it would get.

"Okay, Jean," I heaved abruptly. "Be a doll and make a rez in a good place. Then call Bryce back."

Jean was noticeably confused, but I was too overwhelmed with my own chaotic thoughts that there was no room for anything else. With a devoted nod, she returned to her seat and I opened the door to my office, where everything was the same, all things in the places I had left them. At least there seemed to be something constant in my life.

The rustling of chatter and the clinking of silverware against plates mingled in a wild cacophony of sounds I was quite familiar with—I was born in the middle of this madness, to say the least, the lush life of people like me was something you couldn't really avoid, though I never tried to avoid it, I enjoyed every little benefit I got from being rich. 

So now I was sitting in Delmonico's lash interior, holding a glass of J&B on rocks in one hand and a cigar in the other. I waited for Bryce to come and soon I noticed his approaching figure, his black hair slicked back as usual, and I even chuckled at how fucking punctilious this man always was. Tim ordered a glass of Russian vodka and some seafood appetizers. After a short casual conversation we both fell silent and just when I was expecting him to tell me the reason why he wanted to see me, he suddenly picked up a shiny cardholder and put it on the table, then took out a pack of cigarettes to grab one.

"New cardholder?" I asked, definitely remembering that Bryce used to have a different one. "Looks...nice."

"It's platinum," Timothy commented before lighting his cigarette, his gray eyes scanning the room before focusing on me. "It's a gift...from our mutual friend."

Friend?

I almost bit the inside of my cheek to the point of bleeding. "Really?"

Bryce let out a puff of smoke and pointed to my empty glass. "I heard you quit drinking," he grinned and dabbed the ash from his cigarette. "That you're on... some medication."

"I wonder who told you that," my jaw almost snapped in anger, I had to claw at my knee to regain some composure. "And yes, I had to take medication for a while...but I'm on a break now." I hoped he could tell by the tone of my voice that I wasn't going to continue this conversation. "Who else would know how it works better than you since you went through rehab. Am I right, Bryce?"

I knew how much he hated talking about it, so his recent bravado faded like a cloud of smoke, but his cheeky grin never left his face.

"I get it, I get it," he laughed softly before sipping his drink. "You definitely got off on the wrong foot today, but it's okay," the man swirled his glass in his hand, watching the ice cubes clink against its walls. "I just wanted to tell you that... you're definitely missing something. Or maybe I should say—someone."

Narrowing my eyes, I tilted my head to the side. "Maybe you can tell me something more...specific, or are we going to play that crappy guessing game?"

Bryce shifted in his seat and wanted to say something, but he was interrupted by two familiar voices—Craig and David.

Shit, why did those two idiots have to come right now?

The moment was ruined, and so was I.

"Wow, I can't believe my eyes! See, I told you they had a date," McDermott let out a loud chuckle, my fists clenched, and if we were somewhere else, preferably alone, I'd fucking break my glass against his smug face. "I called Jean and she said you two were having lunch together. Isn't that sweet?"

"Oh, fuck you, McDermott!" Bryce retorted, but he wasn't really angry. "Fuck you and your cheap jokes. Your sense of humor is as flat as the ass of that chick you met in the Tunnel yesterday. Besides, how was she?"

The Tunnel, that damn club that started all this shit. I closed my eyes and tried to shake off the unwelcome memories of that day, but all I wanted to do was leave this place. Bryce's words became a breaking point, they helped a cup of weights to turn to another side without him even knowing it. Slowly I rose from the table, ignoring any questions, dismissing them with a clumsy gesture.

This evening was destined to be spent in the Tunnel after everything that happened today. I didn't tell anyone about my spontaneous venture to find some escape in the nightclub full of drug-addicted chicks and yuppies like me. My mind was racing with the idea of doing some coke, all I had to do was find the dealer that Bryce and I always hang out with and get a gram. A very simple plan to forget about all the shit that was going on in my life for a while.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, they say.

As I strolled across the dance floor, I noticed the bar was pretty empty, so I decided to have a drink before finding the dealer, as the glass of whiskey I had at lunch was not enough. The bartender greeted me with a polite smile as he cleaned the bar. 

"Good evening, sir," the man took a shiny glass and set it in front of me. "What would you like to drink?"

"A J&B straight and a Corona." I replied, taking a seat and fumbling for my wallet.

The bartender nodded and went to get my drinks. While I waited, I looked around when I noticed the only person sitting at the bar—it turned out to be a redheaded girl, a very good looking one—I hummed to myself, absolutely sure that such a girl was definitely not alone tonight. 

"Your drinks, sir." The bartender placed an open bottle of Corona next to my glass, now filled with my favorite whiskey.

"Thank you." I handed him a few bills before he could even tell me how much I had to pay. 

The young man babbled something incoherent that I couldn't even make out, but after I gave him a dead stare, he just took the money and finally left me alone. Annoyed, I checked the time on my Rolex before grabbing a bottle of Corona to take a sip, but I was interrupted again. This time not by the bartender.

"Hey," a soft female voice hung over my ear, sending a massive wave of excitement through me. I turned to see that the chick from the other end of the bar was now standing so close to me that I could smell her flowery perfume. "Are you here alone?"

I wish I could say that, but my thoughts of you were always here, with me, but instead of saying that bullshit, I nodded and grinned, checking her body in the most humiliating way, thinking it would scare her away from me, but the gleam in her green eyes only increased after my move.

God, she doesn't know what she's asking for.

"Yeah, you could say that." I smiled again as she sat down next to me. "What about you?"

The girl leaned against the bar, her ginger hair cascading down her elegant shoulders, and for a moment I couldn't take my eyes off her. "I wasn't supposed to be alone tonight, but...you know how it is...most men are total jerks."

I could barely keep myself from bursting out laughing. "Did someone offend you?" She played with the gold bracelet on her wrist and nodded shyly, a move I suddenly found very sexy. "Do you mind if I get you a drink?"

"First, tell me your name," she muttered in a challenging way—a blatant provocation that I ate like a starved man. "Then I'll think about it."

This girl is so sweet, I bet her insides are the same.

At first I wanted to use a fake name, like I always did, but then I just gave her my real name, because in the end it would make no difference. "Patrick....Patrick Bateman," I finally took a sip of Corona and savored the taste. "And you?"

"Nicole," the girl said, still fiddling with her jewelry. "But I used to have a lot of different names."

"I like this one," I chuckled, smiling charmingly. "It suits a girl like you."

"A girl like me?"

"A beautiful girl...very beautiful I must say." My voice was deep and soft like silk, I noticed the way she straightened her shoulders, slowly but gradually relaxing. 

"You really think so?" She asked me, her eyes roaming over my mischievous face, then down to my lips.

Instead of answering, I just smiled in the most enchanting way possible before calling for the bartender to order her a drink. Nicole and I talked for a while—she told me she was from Canada and didn't really have any friends in New York—it was strangely satisfying but I tried to be sympathetic and supportive even though my mind was so far away from here. The ginger girl didn't even notice how she finished one cocktail and then another, while I didn't even touch my whiskey, just idly sipped my bottle of Corona because for some reason I wanted to be as sober as possible.

As the club was getting more and more empty, Nicole was ready to give me a blowjob right at the bar, but I convinced her to go to my place and to be honest, I didn't expect it to be that easy since I hadn't really planned anything like that. I forgot about the drug dealer because now I had to worry about what I was going to say to Evelyn tomorrow because I was definitely not going to spend the night with her. 

"Patrick..." Nicole nestled into my side as we sat in the cab. "Did I tell you I know...F-French?"

I crossed my arms and shook my head in dismay. "No, you didn't," I said, looking down at her red, messy hair. "But it's nothing special...you're from Canada and French is your second official language."

Nicole let out a cartoonish giggle that made me cringe. "Oh...you know it? Damn, you're such a smart man...Mr. Bateman...so fucking smart...most guys I've slept with....didn't know that..." she giggled again and tried to pinch my nose, but I shooed her away. "Can you believe that?"

At a certain point, I was even starting to regret bringing her along, but I hoped I'd be able to shut her mouth with something...sharp and maybe deadly. "It happens, Nicole. Like you said, there were so many bad people in this town. Fortunately, you're lucky to have met someone like me."

The girl hugged me at my words, I could feel her drunk breath next to my lips, but instead of turning away I let her kiss me and it felt better than I expected. Soon the cab pulled up to the American Gardens Building. The walk up to my apartment didn't take much time, I was already thinking about how I was going to dispose of her body after I was done with her. Nicole, completely unaware of my dark thoughts, walked around my apartment barefoot as she kicked off her shoes, complaining about how fucking uncomfortable they were.

"Oh, this place is so fucking...c-cool!" She managed to say, swaying from side to side while moving. "Jesus, is that a telescope? Why do you even need that?" Nicole giggled like a child seeing one for the first time, but who knew, maybe she really was seeing it for the first time. "Do you... spy on people with that... thing?"

"No, Nicole." I replied curtly, standing next to her with my hands hidden in the pockets of my tailored pants. 

"Are you...an astronaut...from NASA?" She asked, then winced when she finally noticed my looming figure. "Are you... going to send me to the moon tonight, handsome?"

"I'll do more than that," I crooned, placing my hand on her waist and pulling her closer. "But I must say one thing you may not like..." a short pause, then a soft rumble left my throat. "I prefer that beautiful mouth of yours to be closed. Do you understand?"

I was expecting anything other than this bitch dropping to her knees and immediately working on unbuckling my belt. The way she was behaving was both amusing and enticing, but what I enjoyed most was that she was so naive and completely dumb.

"Look at you," I murmured before grabbing a handful of her ginger curls that were blocking her vision. "So inpatient, huh?"

By the time she managed to undo my pants, I was already so hard that my dick sprang out of the confines of my clothes and almost slapped her face, but it didn't bother her at all—I could only see an uncontrollable desire in those big green eyes that were now looking at me as if asking for my permission. 

Shameless, pathetic whore.

With a practiced move, I grabbed the back of her head to pull her closer to my crotch, then pressed my engorged dick against her lips, sliding it along them and making her lick off my pre-cum. "Yeah," I croaked, biting my own lips. "I definitely like you more like this...open your mouth, bitch."

Nicole obeyed and the next thing I knew I was thrusting into her mouth, her warmth welcoming me and making me grunt as I bucked my hips into her face, pushing myself further until I heard her gag around my shaft.

"'C'mon, choke on my dick," I snarled, pulling on her hair with brutal force, her nose rubbing against my pubis and I snaked my hand down to rest on her throat, wanting to feel my cock slide along it. "I'm sure no one has ever face fucked you like that...am I right, honey?"

I used that ugly nickname Evelyn always gave me and pulled myself out of her mouth to hear her answer, but she just gulped desperately for air and grabbed my legs for any semblance of support. 

"Oh-Christ...you're...s-so fucking big," she wept, trying to wipe the liquid mixture off her chin, but I wouldn't let her, pulling her head back. "Shit...you're really one of those guys...who likes it rough?"

With a devilish smile, I gave myself several quick strokes before answering. "Oh, darling. You can't even imagine how MUCH I like that kind of thing."

Panting, Nicole was not ready for me to invade her mouth again, but I didn't care, just as I ignored her little protest when I fucked her throat and felt the curve of my dick slide into her wet, tight channel. It was a bliss I had always sought, that fleeting moment of raw control over another human, once you tasted it you couldn't stop yourself.

Perfection.

As time passed, I came at least twice in her abused mouth, each time making sure she swallowed every drop, but then I got bored of fucking her face and left her sprawled out on my expensive living room floor, which I would definitely have to call the maid service to clean. Barely alive, Nicole literally vomited my sperm mixed with her blood, her plump lips swollen and bruised from my beatings—I couldn't stress her pathetic whimpering anymore, so I had to act—but she would last a while longer, I was sure of it.

As I rummaged through my stuff in the bedroom to get a condom, Nicole's pathetic whimpering was like music to my ears, but at some point I considered turning on some real music to muffle the girl's screams, although to my surprise she was not that loud. But just in case, I returned to the living room and stepped over Nicole, who was still lying on the floor, to get to my stereo and put on the latest Talking Heads album, True Stories.

"I didn't ask you what kind of music you like," I suddenly chuckled and moved closer to the sobbing girl to crouch down beside her. "But I doubt it would change anything."

After that, I stood up and decided to strip completely, every move I made calculated and mastered to perfection. One second, two seconds....ten seconds and I was almost naked, when the only thing left on me was my gold Rolex, I heard her weak, shaky voice:

"Whitney Houston," she murmured, barely audible. "I love Whitney Houston."

I stopped in my tracks. "Oh...really? What is your favorite song?"

My lips were curled in a smile that came dangerously close to something insane as I carefully placed all my clothes on one of my black chairs before picking up the girl and moving her to the window—away from my white couch that I didn't want to stain with her fucking blood. She didn't struggle, she didn't struggle at all as I positioned her against the window, pressing her bruised face against the cold glass.

"Take Good Care of My Heart," the redhead added as I began to poke at her soaked pussy, which was not shaved like most of the girls I used to have, and to be honest, I really liked it. "I...I really love the whole album."

"Oh yeah," I chuckled into her ear, fixing her in place as the tip of my cock plunged into her, causing her legs to shake. "This is such a good album..."

With that I bottomed her out completely, my balls slapping against her ass, red from my spanking, I thought I could see the outline of my hand. Her little cunt felt no worse than her mouth, but it was not as tight...after being with you, nothing seemed tight enough to me.

Fuck it!

Cursing under my breath, I sped up to pound into her as hard as I could. Thank God the glass didn't break, but I changed our position anyway. Now Nicole was bent over my black leather chair, her ass wiggling every time I thrust into her and I couldn't stop myself from spanking her, I wanted her to fucking scream and cry out in pain but all I could get from her was nothing that could signal that she was in pain. On the contrary, this girl seemed to enjoy it so much, as her hips moved in rhythm with mine, she bucked in my direction to meet my movements.

"Shit, you fuck like a whore," I blurted out, grabbing her hair in a self-made ponytail. "Is that why you came to America? To be a fucktoy for men like me?"

"Mmm...f-fuck me...please...fuck me!" Nicole didn't seem to hear me, I had to squeeze her throat to shut her up. "Ye-yes...fucking...c-choke me...please!"

Stupid bitch.

In one swift motion, I pulled out only to slam into her unprepared asshole, making her scream in pain and fuck, she sounded amazing. Quickly wiping the sweat from my forehead, I pushed her down on my cock, noticing the crimson drops of her blood on my dick, which only spurred me to move faster and more ferociously. This bitch didn't see it coming, but she was still pretty obedient, which started to seem pretty weird to me, because usually by this time women start to panic, fight and try to escape, but this fucking hoe didn't even say a word about the way I was treating her.

And that started to disappoint me.

When I thought I was not going to climax, I closed my eyes and let my imagination take control of my brain. Huffing, I rammed into Nicole harder, fantasizing about you—how we could go 69, your fingers buried deep inside my asshole - I could fucking feel the sensation of them and it sent an electric shock right through my tensed sac.

"Oh, fuck," I gripped her waist with both hands, fucking her with pure abandon. "You...fucking...arrogant prick...I hate you! I hate you s-so fucking much!"

All my curses fell on deaf ears as Nicole only whimpered in response, gripping the back of the chair and the next second I found her cumming around my cock, her inner walls spasming around me, triggering my own orgasm.

 When I was finally finished with her, I stood over her trembling body as she lay on the floor again. The girl was shaking and giggling, I thought she probably lost her mind already, so instead of using a knife or something, I decided to just strangle her with my bare hands. I wanted to see life slowly leave her body. I fucking craved it.

"Nicole," I shook her before getting on top of her, pressing her down with the weight of my muscular body. "Look at me."

Nicole's bloodshot eyes couldn't focus on mine for some time, she was stunned, dazed, ruined and intoxicated, I had to slap her face several times before she finally locked her hazy gaze with mine. The sweet anticipation of the kill enveloped my mind, my cock grew hard again as I placed both hands around her fragile neck, I began to squeeze it, lightly at first but then more and more forcefully.

"You made a big mistake coming to America, Nicole." I let out a taunt, not really expecting her to hear it or respond to it.

Everything was going according to plan when she suddenly smiled and covered my hands, not to take them off, but to stroke them with a wicked... attraction?

"Please...kill me already...I beg you..." She couldn't stop herself from crying and laughing. 

This was a psychotic episode I had experienced so many times, but I never expected to see it with my own eyes. I froze in shock, losing my grip, and as I did, Nicole pulled my hands back to her throat, shaking me as if to wake me up.

"No, no, no, no! Please...don't stop...please...I want to die! Patrick, please...set me free!" Nicole's voice cracked and I could finally see the sheer desperation in her green eyes, but this kind of desperation was different. 

This wasn't the kind of despair I'd seen before...this was something completely different. It was kind of a turn-off for me. The whole evening was fucking ruined, I couldn't believe it. Shaking my head, I stood up and stepped away from her as if from a fire. 

"Patrick...please!"

"Shut up!" I yelled, looking down at my own hands—they were shaking so badly. "Shut the fuck up!"

In a panic, I rushed to the bathroom to wash my hands for who knows what reason, then grabbed my robe and put it on. I couldn't really explain what was happening to me, but when I got back to the living room, I picked up Nicole's clothes and threw them at her.

"Get dressed," I ordered, and then I went into the bedroom to unlock my safe and take out several bundles of money. What was I doing? Panting, I paused in the doorway to watch her get dressed, then walked over to her and handed her the money. "I want you to take this, go to a hospital and get back to Canada. Do you hear me, Nicole?"

The redhead was silent, just looking at me with her pleading eyes. "But I don't want to go..."

"You have to." I emphasized the words by lowering my voice. "Just do what I say and everything should be... okay."

"But I don't want it to be okay." Nicole tried to touch me, but I pulled away.

"Just go," I repeated my previous words, this time in a more serious voice. "And never come back."

I spent the rest of the night sitting in the shower, literally sitting on the floor, crying. A lot. My eyes were so red and puffy that I didn't know which ice mask would help me look normal tomorrow. The hatred of myself that rose from my chest to my cheeks and made me nauseous—I hated myself so much that I finally admitted that I had changed—you had changed me and there was no going back. The man I was before died, now I was just an empty being, or maybe a new man had been born in my shallow soul?

When I finally managed to drag my ass out of the bathroom, the phone rang and I was sure it was Evelyn trying to fuck my brain for not coming back to her apartment and to be fair, I wasn't ready for anything like that at that moment, but considering how much of a pain in the ass she was, I didn't want any more consequences if I didn't pick up the fucking call.

As I walked into the bedroom, I took the phone from my nightstand and finally answered the call. "Yes?"

"Patrick! Jesus, I thought you weren't going to answer the call!" It was you, damn it, it was you.

My teeth almost creaked with anger and disbelief. "How many times do I have to tell you to fuck off?! Are you stalking me or what? How the fuck did you know I was in my apartment?"

"I... I didn't know... I just decided to try my luck and here we are," you replied, your voice was different than it sounded this morning. "Listen Patrick, I'm in New York right now...maybe we can see each other?"

"See each other?" Those words made me sick. "Do you even hear yourself?"

"I know that...things are pretty tense between us, but...maybe we can at least talk about it?"

"No, we can't," I clutched the phone as tightly as I could. "I don't want to see you and I don't want to hear you. Do you understand? If you ever call me again, I'll fucking find you and KILL YOU!"

With that, I dropped the phone on the floor and screamed so loudly that my throat began to hurt. Right now I was nothing but a living madness, the things that were happening in my mind were like an open chasm to hell—a place I'd be one day, I had no doubt about it.

The few days I spent in a dizzy state, I couldn't really remember what I was doing, but the only thing I was sure of was that I couldn't stop thinking about you. Also, I didn't kill anyone for lack of thrill, there was no more adrenaline or excitement—you changed me and now spilling some blood couldn't help me to relieve myself anymore. I felt like I was being shattered into pieces, decomposed into something primitive, for the first time I saw myself as being even more inhuman than I really was.

Inhuman.

What a perfect word to describe everything about me, but I still couldn't understand where I belonged? If not here, could there be a place for a creature like me?

This question was swirling around in my head like a brain worm; that damn rainy evening when I decided to stalk my dear wife. After my rather long absence, Evelyn was about to go to the police, but then I showed up at the door of her apartment at night, high as hell, but she didn't seem surprised at all. I expected her to be mad and angry, but instead she treated me really nice, I could hear her crying and her desperate touch when she hugged me, weeping and sobbing something about being so scared and worried about me and although I didn't believe a single word that came out of her mouth, something stirred inside of me.

The raindrops were falling on my umbrella like Morse code, hitting the surface with such a precise rhythm that I really thought maybe something or someone was trying to send me a sign. The level of absurdity was over the top, and if I were in a different state mentally and physically, I'd be laughing my ass off at this shit, but today I couldn't do anything funny. I couldn't smile, I couldn't sneer, I was like a ghost, a shadow of the person I was before I met you. So here I was, following Evelyn down the street after the taxi ride until I saw her stop at some hotel—a luxury hotel in Upper Manhattan to be exact— and then, after some time, when I thought nothing interesting would happen, a sleek black Cadillac stopped by the street and I saw Timothy Bryce get out of the car—he was holding a black umbrella just like me. Evelyn was so excited to see him that she didn't even wait for them to go inside the hotel, she kissed him now and then without holding back her emotions. This scene made the stone fall off my shoulders; I was so damn happy that I was right and that this fake marriage was about to collapse, but I still couldn't understand why Evelyn married me at all. To be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if one day, when we finally had a serious talk about it, she would confess that she loved both of us—me and Bryce— and suggested that we all live together.

Say hello to an altered version of the American dream family.

The reality was always cruel, and I knew it too well.

A loud clap of thunder echoed through my apartment, waking me up in my living room, drenched in sweat. Breathing heavily, I turned around to register some pornography playing on my TV, my robe was undone, I was completely naked underneath, some remnants of my cum stuck to my stomach.

Shit, I just blacked out jerking off? This porn really sucks.

And this was the 5th or maybe 10th porn tape I had watched, and I only managed to cum once. Cursing and scowling, I fidgeted on my couch to find a remote control. I was disgusted with my current situation, but then I noticed two thin lines of white powder on my glass coffee table and a twisted $100 bill. Now everything started to fall into place.

Fuck, where did I even get this gram?

I rubbed my head, and instead of turning off the porn, I turned it up louder—two perfect bimbos making out, their oiled bodies wrapped around each other like two snakes—my hand instinctively sliding back to my hard cock, throbbing and soaked with my cum.

"Oh-fuck..." I murmured through clenched teeth as I pumped myself, watching the girls play with their large breasts. "Yeah...suck her tits...suck them like a fucking pacifier..."

The louder their moaning got, the more excited I got, and just when I thought I was about to climax again, I heard... a fucking phone ringing loudly—it hurt my hearing. Confused, I stopped doing anything, ignoring the fact that one slut was now riding on the face of another. There was only one thing I could think about right now— had I turned off my phone or not? Because I definitely remembered pulling the fucking cords out of it, but that thing kept ringing? 

Slowly I got up on my stiff legs and walked to the kitchen island to grab the phone, the only light coming from my playing TV and I bumped into something pretty hard before the fucking receiver was in my hand.

"Patrick Bateman's apartment..." I almost whispered, pressing the receiver harder against my head.

"...Pat..." the echo of a familiar voice wailed from the other end of the line, but I still couldn't make out who it was. "...need... -h-help!"

"Who...am I talking to?"

"Patrick, please, help me," your voice sounded so clear now that it echoed inside my skull, drowning out all the sounds of the bad weather outside. "I'm...I'm at Paul Allen's...I need help...please...I think I'm gonna die..."

Was this some kind of prank? 

I turned around and scanned my apartment as if someone was watching me right now. I felt insane and cornered, if I was really losing my mind the best option now would be to take more coke and trigger an overdose and then...

"Can you hear me? Please, come here, I'll... give you the address..." and then I heard loud interference and noise, so I had to pull the phone away for a second. "Patrick? Please...talk to me!"

"What...what happened?" I asked, still not believing what I was doing. "Are you in pain?"

"No...yes....Patrick...listen...you should write down the address..."

Without thinking, I grabbed the Vogue magazine lying next to the phone and a pencil, and the next second I was writing down the address where Paul Allen was supposed to live. 

"Hold on! I'll be right there!" I suddenly said into the phone, but all I could hear was the agonizing beep. "Hey...I'll be there...do you hear me? I'LL BE THERE!"

Fuck!

I dropped the phone and took several deep breaths before I finally came to my senses, or so I thought. Then I rushed to the bathroom to clean up and put something on without worrying too much. So I grabbed the first suit out of my closet, fixed my hair and left my apartment to take a cab. All the way to Paul's, I was holding a crumpled page of Vogue that I had to rip out. At first I didn't even notice that I wasn't surprised when the cabbie just nodded and we drove off, so this address was real? It meant you really called me? And what about all the previous calls?

Perplexed, I leaned against the cool glass of the car window and watched the nighttime cityscape blur into something unrecognizable, almost falling asleep, but the driver turned on the radio with some cheesy pop songs that kept me awake, as I was too irritated to ignore how much I disliked such music. When the car stopped in front of a towering building like the one I lived in, I paid the driver twice what I was supposed to and got out of the cab. There were no pedestrians and for a moment I really thought that maybe I was still asleep and had to pinch myself to wake up in my living room?

As I entered the building I saw a table where the concierge should be sitting, but there was no one, so I casually opened the journal to find the number of Allen's apartment—I felt a creeping shock when I actually found his name in the journal.

Okay… this feels…too real.

Feeling a strange thrill of the rush, I closed the journal and sauntered quickly across the large lobby to the elevators. Paul's apartment was on the 15th floor, so when the door opened on the floor I needed, I stepped out of the elevator with a heavy weight in my chest. Every step I took resonated with the fast beating of my heart, and when I reached my destination, I didn't know what to do - whether to ring the bell or knock or…

Shaking myself off, I first rang the doorbell—nothing. Then I knocked several times, then again, still no answer. Finally, I put my ear to the door to listen, but I couldn't hear a single sound. Anger overcame me, so I kicked the door and turned to leave. How stupid was I? Maybe mixing my pills and coke wasn't the best idea, but this...

When I got back to the lobby, an old man, who must have been a missing concierge, greeted me with a fake polite smile. "Greetings, sir. How can I help you?"

Annoyed as hell, I stopped next to his small table, adjusted my leather gloves, and pointed to his journal. "I was looking for Paul Allen's apartment, he's my friend and I wanted to see him, but it seems...he's out tonight."

"Oh, Mr. Allen left on a business trip this morning." The concierge said casually, but then he noticed how pale I'd become. "Sir, is something wrong?"

"Did you say he left this morning?" I asked again, feeling a few beads of sweat on my tense forehead.

"Yes, sir," the old man opened the journal and began to leaf through it. "I can even tell you the exact time he left..."

"No need. Thank you." Was all I said before I turned on my heels and headed for the exit.

Outside I noticed that the taxi that had brought me here was still standing by the side of the road. It was strange but I didn't even think about it. I got in and asked the driver to take me back to my place, but first I asked him to give me a moment to sit and think. With shaking hands I picked up the crumpled piece of paper with the address on it, I traced my handwriting before throwing it out the window, my temples pounding so hard I thought my head would explode. Exhausted both mentally and physically, I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples, not noticing that the concierge I was talking to literally ran out of the building, looking around, seeking someone.

"Let's go." I ordered the cab driver with my eyes still closed. "And can you please turn off the music...my head is killing me."

The taxi drove off and I didn't see or hear the old man following the car. "Sir, wait! I made a mistake about Mr. Allen-"

Today, after I refused to go shopping with Evelyn and help her choose a fucking curtain for her living room, she finally told me that she never loved me, that she wanted a divorce and nothing else from me. The relief I felt was comparable to a good orgasm, to say the least, Evelyn was shocked at my reaction—did she really expect me to beg for forgiveness? But the single mention of Bryce made everything come to its place, I wasn't angry, no, I just couldn't solve this fucking puzzle, what was all this for? If she really liked Bryce, why couldn't she just tell me and go for him? How many times had I told her that? A hundred? A thousand? Millions? Luckily, I wasn't inclined to leave my stuff in her apartment, so I finished my busing with 'moving out' pretty quickly and smoothly, because something glorious and important was waiting for me. The last moment of my drama.

I imagine that maybe someday there will be a show on Broadway based on my life—a great example of a life that no one should have lived—I smiled at the thought, as I always liked to romanticize things in the most clichéd and poetic way. After all, Bryce was right, I was mental, and no matter how hard I tried to run away from the dark version of myself, it would catch up with me one day. And that day seemed to have finally come.

As I walked down Wall Street, wearing my favorite headphones and listening to Huey Lewis and the News, I stumbled by the phone booth—a random idea plagued my mind before I could really think about it. Opening my briefcase, I found my notebook, and soon I was dialing your office number, hoping you wouldn't answer. But my hopes were never to be fulfilled. 

To my surprise, I heard a male voice coming from the phone and all the words stuck in my throat like a lump. "Uh...hi...can I talk to..."

"Sorry sir, I can't hear you properly...it might be the bad connection," the voice replied and it made me really nervous. "I'm sorry, but if you want to talk to my boss, they are out of the office right now."

Out of the office…shit.

"Who am I talking to?" I asked, almost fainting.

"Vinc..." an unpleasant static noise came over my brain and I held my eyes closed for a second from the stabbing pain in my temples. "My name is Vincent...I'm .... assistant."

"Listen, Vincent..." I started to speak, not even knowing that he could hear my words. "I want you to tell your boss that...Patrick Bateman called and...this would be my LAST call," I laughed hysterically, leaning against the phone booth door. "I'm going to, uh... disappear..."

A short pause seemed like an eternity.

"You mean you are leaving New York City, sir?" Vincent's question surprised me.

My lips twitched in a wicked smile. "No...I mean...yes..."

"Are you going somewhere in particular, Mr. Bateman?" The man asked me and I stopped breathing for a second.

"I'm going...to a place where no one will ever...find me..."

And with that I hung up the phone. There was already a line of people by the phone booth, and as I walked away, they looked at me with the most disdainful look I could ever dream of mastering. Unfortunately, I wouldn't need it anymore.

Soon the white walls of my apartment would be the only witness to my last confession. My apartment smelled so fresh and good, the maid had just finished cleaning, and I was glad that if the police found my body, they would see that wealth and money were not a panacea for a happy life, although I had believed in it fervently for almost all these years. With deliberate steps, I walked into my bathroom, grabbed a small bottle of medicine prescribed by my psychiatrist, and popped a handful of pills at once. Then I looked at my reflection in the mirror and somehow realized that the mask I had worn for most of my adult life was about to slip. Right now, at this very moment, I was about to die. An abnormal dizziness washed over me, I could barely stand on my feet when I suddenly saw your silhouette behind me in the mirror. I gulped and turned around to see nothing but the empty doorway, my hands shaking so badly that I failed to put the bottle back in its place, dropping it on the floor and scattering pills all over the bathroom.

Holy shit.

A strong gag reflex suddenly took over me and I managed to get to the toilet faster than I could throw up—I threw up all the pills—Jesus Christ, I was so weak I couldn't even finish this... I was so pathetic. In the end, I finally accepted that as the darkness took me in its cold embrace.

Knock…knock…

What is this? Am I still alive?

I kept questioning myself because I didn't feel anything, no pain, no remorse, nothing. But if I were dead, I wouldn't hear that strange sound, would I? I opened my wet eyes and looked up at the white ceiling—I was still in my bathroom— lying on my back, covered in my own vomit, saliva and bile. My mouth smelled like a rotten rat and I knew what I was talking about. The annoying knocking kept coming from my front door, and although I didn't want to get up, I felt that if I didn't, this fucking knocking would never stop.

With careful, unhurried movements, I crawled to the sink and, leaning on the bathroom counter, managed to stand up and quickly brush my teeth, avoiding looking at my reflection because I was sure I looked like shit. After that, I took off my stained clothes and put on a new robe that I had bought myself for no reason a few days ago. 

As I approached the front door, the knocking stopped and I thought it was just another hallucination, but I decided to open the door anyway and to my surprise I saw my concierge who looked very worried and even scared.

"Mr. Bateman, thank God you're all right!" The man blurted out, holding his concierge hat in his hands.

"Of course I'm okay," I replied nonchalantly. "What happened? Or did you just come to check on me?"

"Well," the concierge looked away before rubbing his gray mustache. "Someone was looking for you..."

My eyebrows furrowed, and I peered out into the long corridor. "Who was it? Did they give a name? Was it a policeman or something?" 

"No, sir." The old man gave me an awkward smile that made me even more angry. "They were so desperate...they were literally storming around the lobby...constantly saying things about you not answering calls and not opening the door...I told them maybe you just left..."

The rest of what he said fell on deaf ears, because now I was absolutely sure who was looking for me. "What time is it now?"

"11 a.m., sir."

"Today is Friday, right?" I asked, my head spinning. "It should be Friday."

The concierge paused. "It's Sunday, sir."

Sunday?

A sharp pang of nausea crept into my stomach, nearly breaking me in half, but I managed to grab hold of the doorjamb for support. "Where is this person?"

"Mr. Bateman, I had to call the police because they were being...kind of aggressive," the concierge explained, stepping back a bit. "The cops arrived pretty quickly...they found out this person had drugs, sir."

I stagger to the side as if from the hard blow. "And what happened next...did they arrest them?"

"I...I guess so?"

I let out a tired sigh, rolling my eyes and trying to keep it together - this poor guy was not guilty, it was just an accident, but how did you get caught with drugs? It was so fucking illogical to me.

My voice was unnaturally soft as I tried my fucking best not to snap at the man across from me. "Did the cops really take them away? Did you see that with your own eyes?" The concierge just nodded, and I could tell by his nervousness that he felt it was his fault at some level. "All right, thank you for your information, remind me to tip you next month." And with that, I closed the front door, leaving the man in a completely bewildered state.

Shit...this whole situation seemed like a fucking joke, but I had to think fast—I needed a plan how to solve this bullshit and maybe I could get some answers if I could help you. I took a moment to collect myself and told myself that one way or another I had to go there...to rescue you.

I'll do it even if I have to burn down this police station.

In record time, my impeccable appearance was ready, and now I confidently walked down the long, dimly lit corridor of the police station that was closest to where I lived—I hoped you were in that station, but if not, I would visit all of them until I found you.

Finally, I reached the reception area, where a pretty policewoman greeted me with a friendly smile. "Good afternoon, sir. What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for..." I opened my briefcase and showed her my notebook with your full name written in it. "Are they here, in this department? I believe they were arrested today."

The officer smiled at me before she turned around and started to rummage through some papers, folds, notes... With each passing moment I was getting more and more impatient, but I had to play it cool.

"I think I found the person you were looking for," the woman said, placing several documents on the reception desk, implying that I should take a look at them. "They were delivered here an hour ago."

"Can I see them?" I asked, putting on my casual, seductive smile.

“And what is your relationship to the suspect?” 

Damn, not this fucking question.

I was a little stunned at first, but then I quickly tugged at my red tie and tilted my head in a condescending way. "I'm their lawyer, and I need to see them as soon as possible."

I noticed that her expression suddenly changed, her eyes gliding over my massive form—she was obviously trying to access my appearance and compare it to the look of a successful lawyer living in New York City—when I gave her an intense look and then winked, she visibly blushed.

After a small cough, she took the documents and only then dared to look at me again. "The suspect is now in interrogation room number one. Don't get lost."

"Thanks." I grinned broadly and, after closing my briefcase, left the reception.

It didn't take me long to find the interrogation room I needed. As I stopped right next to the door, I checked myself in the reflection of the nearby window—I looked perfect, not as perfect as I used to be, but not too horrible either.

A light knock on the door before I opened it. "Good afternoon, sorry for the long wait. How is my client? I hope you haven't done anything inappropriate in my absence?"

The moment our eyes met, I could see a mixture of shock, disbelief, and something beyond human understanding.

"And who the hell is that?" One of the officers—a rather fat guy with a messy beard—asked his partner, then looked at you. "You said you were from Chicago and your lawyer had to catch a flight here."

"Yes, that's exactly what I said. Why are you telling me my own words?" You crossed your arms and gave me a scorching gaze, I seized the moment of your confusion to nestle into the empty chair next to you. "Probably...my lawyer has handed this case over to his colleague in New York, so he doesn't have to come here."

Both policemen looked at us as if we were idiots—which we definitely were—but I hoped this affair would work out.

"But you asked to be allowed to make a phone call... the whole damn time," another policeman replied, pointing his finger at you and then at me. "I'm going to send you both to jail if you don't tell me what-"

"Jesus Christ, I told you several times...I was at a party...I took someone's coat by mistake and there was...this fucking bag of cocaine, but it's not mine! You can check the fingerprints and you won't find mine on this fucking bag! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU?"

"My client is right. Before we get the results of the fingerprint analysis, the presumption of innocence should not be forgotten." I started in the most serious tone I could manage. "Remember that."

Both officers started arguing with each other almost immediately, using many different insults that I would definitely have to remember so that I could present them to Tim— he would love to hear them. I was about to say something clever when the door suddenly opened and a woman with dark hair stepped into the room.

"What the hell is going on?" The woman asked her colleagues, looking disappointed and quite angry. "Everyone can hear you outside."

"Oh, Miss Moore," one of the officers murmured like a guilty child. "Well, we..."

"Detective Moore to you, Rogers," she replied, her posture radiating confidence. You and I both stared at her for a while, I noticed her tanned skin and thick curly hair, she was definitely Hispanic, the accent was also quite noticeable. "Can I confide in you at least once?" Officer Rogers looked at his partner, neither of them said a word, and that made the detective even more annoyed. "We'll talk about it later, now go."

The cops didn't dare protest, and soon they left. Now it was just you, me and Detective Moore in the interrogation room. The tension was palpable in the air, my hands were sweaty and shaking, I had to brush them off my open coat, but before I could, you caught one of them and squeezed it barely sensibly—I gasped, almost choking on my saliva.

After a brief examination of the documents, the woman across from us raised her brown eyes and smiled, not too friendly, but not too menacing either. "So, my name is Andrea Moore," she turned to look at you, holding a piece of paper in her hand. "I already know your name," her piercing gaze finally stopped on me. "May I have your documents, sir?"

Swallowing hard, I unlocked my briefcase to hand her my ID. "Yeah, sure."

"Mr. Bateman...have we met before?"

"No...I don't think so."

Andrea hummed to herself. "Well, I hope you brought your law license with you?" 

Your grip on my palm tightened, I almost let out a hysterical squeal. "I... I must have left it in my office."

"Listen," you suddenly spoke up, gesticulating as if you were at a school presentation. "I need to call my assistant, Vincent Eisenhower...he will help sort things out-"

"Wait a minute...did you say Vincent Eisenhower?" Andrea suddenly stopped you, obviously surprised.

"Uh, yeah, he's my assistant at the company I work-" 

"...in Chicago?" 

"Yes..." you replied in confusion. "Is there something wrong with that?"

The detective didn't answer, and it made me nervous as hell, but you holding my hand in a gentle manner was strangely comforting, even though I despised such displays of affection.

Looking puzzled, Andrea finally took the pen and a clean piece of paper. "Can you give me the number...I'll call Mr. Eisenhower and ask him for...a real lawyer. Mr. Bateman, I hope you understand the consequences of your actions-"

"Leave him alone, it's not his fault," you cut Andrea off before I could say anything in my defense. "He didn't know what he was doing coming here...please...he hasn't done anything bad...he's just going through a hard time in his life and..."

"Enough," the detective raised her hand in a halting gesture. "I hope I can reach out to Mr. Eisenhower....You two better pray for that."

Andrea left as abruptly as she had come. We were finally alone. Both confused, frightened, and lost.

"Why did you even come here?" You asked, not looking at me, but not parting our hands. "How stupid of you to come here and act like you were my lawyer."

"I HAD NO CHOICE!" I almost screamed, turning in my seat to cut the mere distance between us. "Not after you terrorized me with those damn phone calls..."

As I said that, time stood still for us and I could see the inner conflict in your deep, mesmerizing eyes—you were broken and lost just like me—I looked down at our intertwined hands, waiting for your answer.

"What calls, Patrick? What are you talking about?" 

"You know WHAT I'm talking about...don't try to fuck with my brain," I husked, inches from your lips. "You think this is funny, huh?" 

"And you think it's funny to call my office and tell my assistant about your suicidal intentions?" Your warm breath wafted pleasantly around my face as you moved closer. "You think it's funny to appear and disappear in my life like I'm a toy you can play with whenever you feel bored?"

At first I didn't answer. Instead, I just kept eye contact with you, then I lowered my eyes to our hands again—my palm was bigger than yours, this little detail always made my heart flutter. Did I ever think that such a small thing would stir such strong emotions in me? Probably not.

Definitely not.

"By the way, did you manage to find out anything about that machine you told me about?" I questioned abruptly, putting my arm around your shoulders. 

You frowned and chuckled in disbelief. Well, at least the tension was relieved.

"What machine?" You fidgeted in your seat as I pulled you closer. "Hey, don't change the subject..."

"A memory reboot machine," I crooned, leaning forward so our noses rubbed against each other. "If you're here... that means you probably didn't find it."

The urge to indulge in this moment, to follow the passionate momentum and just kiss these lips I'd been thinking about all along, was unbearable, but I didn't want to be the first to fall apart and drop my defenses.

"Maybe I never needed this machine," you replied, pressing your forehead against mine for a brief moment. "Because I never wanted to forget...you?"

Was it a question or a statement—we never knew as we both moved towards each other, my burning lips pressed against your soft ones as we shared the most desirable kiss I could ever imagine. Gasping into my mouth, you let go of my hand only to wrap both of them around my neck as you responded with no less favor than mine. It was so hot, so desperate, so tragic. And it was all mine— your pain, your anger, your hatred.

Because you were my salvation.

With precise deftness, I carefully tilted your head back a little to deepen the kiss, my arms eagerly but not persistently roving around your back, knowing every little detail of your body, every dent and bump. As much as I wanted to tell you how fucking perfect you were for me, I didn't want this kiss to end, but as if you could read my mind, you suddenly pulled me away a little too abruptly and roughly.

"God, I hate you..." you wept, covering your face so I couldn't see your tears. "I really... I really thought you were going to do something bad... I was afraid it was too late..."

I was at a loss, I didn't know how to react or what to say—everything about you confused me, made my brain overload with different thoughts about what you said and why—now was no exception.

"But I'm here now...in one piece," I decided not to touch you, my hand resting on the back of your chair, ready to hug you at any moment if it was needed. "You should understand that...if I really wanted to do this, no one would be able to stop me..." I whisper above your ear and place my hand on the back of your head, gently stroking your hair as you rest your head on the table. "Even you."

I knew that this confession would mean nothing, just like all my previous ones, but as soon as I said it, you raised your tear-stained eyes and whimpered. "Don't say that...don't fucking say that! You can be a total asshole, but that doesn't mean you deserve to die..."

"Darling," I gently brushed your stray locks from your face, trying to distract you and keep you from saying words that would only make things worse. "You know so little about me...but I don't want you to say something you'll regret..."

"I've already said too many things that I now regret," you replied, turning away from me. "Have you ever thought about your family and how they would react if something bad happened to you? Have you thought about Evelyn?"

My eyebrows knitted together, the words you said pierced my heart like sharp daggers, but I didn't want you to stop, because you were right, I was always selfish, but you knew so little about my family, who would surely be sad about the loss, but they would recover pretty quickly, since they still had Sean. And Evelyn? I would laugh if things were not so sad.

Trembling and sobbing, you still sat with your back to my face. "I'm not going to ask you for anything except to promise me that you'll never even think about...hurting yourself."

Oh, dear.

With a soft clink of my chair, I stood up and placed both of my hands on your trembling shoulders. "I promise... if you stay with me, I'll never look back... on my previous life." I felt your body tense under my touch. "We can't reboot the memory, but we can...reboot our lives?"

This was it—the moment I had fantasized about so many times, considering different outcomes, scenarios—I was waiting for your answer when the door creaked and Detective Moore appeared in my vision. She was much more cheerful than before, which worried me a bit.

"So," she took a seat, opened a folder with documents and wrote something on it. "I spoke to Vince, and luckily for you, he has already contacted your lawyer-"

"Vince?" You asked in shock, but at least you stopped crying.

Andrea stuttered and cleared her throat. "I mean..." she paused and twirled the pen in her hand. "It happened that Vincent and I used to know each other..."

What?

We were both speechless, how the hell could such a coincidence have happened? 

"Well... I really didn't see it coming..." You murmured, brushing the remnants of tears from your face.

"Neither did I," the detective chuckled curtly before resuming her work on some papers. "Listen, we should wait for the results of the fingerprint analysis, and while we wait, you are forbidden to leave the city. Please put your sign here."

"What is this?"

"Your ticket to freedom," she explained. "A street bail."

I saw you hesitate, so I gave you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and you looked at me, I simply nodded, and you placed the sign. 

"And how long have you known Vincent?" You asked after you handed the document back to Andrea. "Just asking."

"Since childhood, I think."

"Oh... that's... a lot."

"Vince has always been known for being a good boy..." the woman paused, coughing awkwardly. "Uh, you can talk to him about... that if you're interested." Andrea closed the folder and shifted her gaze to me. "And you, I highly recommend that you never do anything like this again."

"So you're not going to put me in a cell?" I replied in a slightly teasing manner.

"No...not this time. But the officer who allowed you to come here will be severely punished, maybe even fired," Andrea explained, getting up from her chair. "It's her first day at the police station, but she let a man go through without even checking his papers. Such violations are very serious."

And although I didn't feel sad for this woman I would probably never see again, I looked at you and your big doe eyes. "Maybe there's a way not to fire her? I assured her that I was a lawyer and...I could pay a fine if I had to."

Detective Moore said nothing, she just grinned and beckoned us to follow her.

An hour later we finally left the police station. For some time we walked in complete silence, the surrounding commotion drawing out my shallow breathing, my mind overclocked with the search for topics to talk about after all the shit that had happened.

"So... where did you stay?" I asked casually, looking at you from above, your eyelashes shimmering in the sunlight. "In the Plaza?"

"No," you replied almost immediately. "Not the Plaza this time...it was all booked up."

"You were really in New York... for the whole time?"

"Depends on what time you mean exactly," your slight smile made me almost stumble, but I pretended to see someone familiar. "Maybe I haven't left New York at all?"

No, that can't be.

"You know, since you can't leave the city... maybe we should spend some time together and... you didn't answer my question."

My offer made you stall, and I followed suit. Passers-by walked past us, not paying attention even though we were standing in the middle of the street.

"Was it really a question?"

"And what do you think it was?"

"A plea?" You smiled and stepped closer to me until there was no space between us. "If you weren't so stubborn...everything could be so much easier."

"And YOU tell me that?" I let myself pull you closer to me. "I have an idea...fuck the place where you stopped! We should go to Newport."

"Newport? Would it count that I left New York?" you asked me a little shyly. "Do you have a house there or...?"

"My family has a house there and since they are out of town we can use it to kill time...have you ever been to Newport?" My hands rested possessively on your waist and before I knew it, I added. "Me and Evelyn are getting divorced..."

"No, I haven't," you replied, finally resting your hands on my shoulders. "But I really want to...since I've heard a lot of good things about this place..." then you suddenly froze. "What... What did you say? Are you kidding me? God, I can't believe this...I..."

You continued to bubble something that made me smile in amusement and I couldn't help but hold you tightly in my arms— the place you always belonged to, though I understood it too late. The fresh breeze of change swirled around us, playing with our hair and clothes. Yesterday I didn't know if I would make it to tomorrow, but today I was sure that there would be so many tomorrows because I wasn't alone anymore.

With you, for you, in your name—I was still alive and finally free.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my writing community to know when I update!💞

[dancingtotuyo]

1. mirror in the sky

Landslide | Joel Miller x Female Reader

Series Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: An unexpected encounter with Joel Miller jump starts a series of events right out of your wildest dreams.

Chapter Tags/Warnings: age gap (approx 13 years), past baby sitter, TV show basis, grief & loss, trauma, anxiety attack, consumption of alcohol

Notes: AHHHHHHH I'm so excited for this! I've been sitting on top of a no outbreak version of these two since before I posted the first chapter of Woman! How appropraite that I bring you the first chapter of Landslide on the first anniversary of Woman. Thank you all for all of your love and support this past year!

What?! @guiltyasdave beta read this?! I never would have guessed that! (love you xoxo)

Words: 3844

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist

You don’t know how you make it to the Austin suburb unscathed. You shouldn’t be behind the wheel of a vehicle, muchless driving an extra 20 minutes, but you need to be home. Not your lonely, one bedroom apartment in the city- but home where mom is cooking dinner and dad is watching the football game, where dad keeps it a chilly 68 inside despite the heat. 

The tears come in silent waves on the drive over, but by the time you pull into the driveway, sobs pound at the dam, waiting for it to burst. As soon as the key pulls loose from the ignition, you stumble out of your car, almost tripping up the front stairs. You have to see your parents. It repeats on a loop in your fucking mind. Everything will be fine once you see them. You go for the door knob, but it's locked. Panic scratches at your throat. You try it again, expecting another result. The front door is never locked. 

Your palms collide with the hardwood door. “Mom! Dad!” You can’t seem to draw in satisfying breaths. Your face is drenched in tears and sweat as the panic and Texas heat work in tandem against you. 

It doesn’t cross your mind that they might not be home. Your parents are boring. They’re stuck in their habits. They’re always at home on Thursday evenings. It is Thursday, right? You lost track of time during your shift. It was never ending. 

Your palms sting. It feels like forever, but finally, the door opens. You fall forward. Hands shoot out to steady you. “Woah, there.”

That’s not your dad’s voice. It stuns you just enough to make everything in your body work for a minute. “Joel?” What’s he doing here? Where are your parents? You just want to hug your mom and snuggle on the couch with your dad like you’re 6 years old again. Did something happen to them? The panic comes back double, your body shaking this time. “Where are my parents?” The tears are blinding. “Where are they!”

“Holy shit, Sweetheart.” Joel pulls you inside the house.

You stumble over the threshold falling into him. He slams the door behind you, his arms tightening around your shoulders. “Why aren’t they home? They’re alway home.” You’re hyperventilating. You know it, but you can’t stop it. 

Before Joel can answer, your legs give out. He barely avoids tipping over and landing on top of you. Somehow, he manages to lower you both to the ground without any major damage. 

“They left for their anniversary trip today.”

Fuck, so it was Friday. You’d forgotten all about their 30th anniversary trip. You’d spent more time inside the ER than out of it the past few weeks, picking up as many shifts as possible. Trying to avoid the approaching Anniversary. The one that came just weeks after your parents’.

You try to repeat the words in your head. They’re okay. They’re halfway to Europe now. It does little to help soothe the ache in your chest. 

Joel runs his hand up and down your back. “Shhhhh, it’s okay. Everyone is okay.” He pushes back the hair that sticks to your face. Your sharp intakes of breath eventually die down to sporadic and shaky. “That’s it. Deep breaths.”

Eventually you settle, letting your head rest against the door. Your throat feels tight, your sinuses stuffy, and your chest aches. 

“Stay right here. I’ll bring you some water,” Joel says. 

He’s gone before you have the wherewithal to thank him. 

You wipe the mixture of fluids on your face away with the back of your hand: tears, sweat, snot, probably some drool. God, you must look a mess right. You eye the tissue box across the room but the thought of moving makes your brain hurt and your muscles sting. You wipe the back of your hand discreetly against the clean scrub pants you changed into before leaving work. 

Joel comes back into the room with a glass of ice water. Condensation drips down the sides teasing your drying throat. He grabs the tissue box without a second thought.  

“Here.” He sits back down on the floor with you, carefully handing you the glass of water.

You thank him, making sure the glass doesn’t slip through your fingers. The water is cool and soothing against your scratchy throat. You don’t think, tipping it back further until your worn out esophagus can’t keep up and you sputter, choking on the water. It spills from your mouth, following the lines of your throat until it dips under your neckline. 

“Woah there, slow down.” Joel takes the cup from you as you cough. “We don’t need you choking today too.” 

You can’t help the little uptick of your lips as you struggle to recover. His care and concern is sweet and- no, he’s 13 years your senior, you chide. You gave this stupid crush up last summer the morning after the Randolf’s pool party. You’d woken up and were flooded with the memories, the lines you swore you’d never cross. Thankfully, Joel was either an oblivious son of a bitch, or you were more subtle than you remember. Whichever it was, it doesn’t matter anymore. You are over Joel Miller. 

The dark green shirt that stretches around his biceps doesn’t phase you. Neither does the tool belt slung low around his hips, or the fact that you’re alone in your parents home. Your brain pulls you out of the thirsting that you are not doing, and focuses on that detail. “Joel, what are you doing in my parents’ house?”

“I’m renovatin upstairs.”

Something about that strikes a chord within you. “The 25th anniversary bathroom renovation?” You smile and Joel almost looks relieved to see you return to the version he’s used to. 

“Except it’s the bedroom now too. I think your mom called it interest.” He laughs. 

“Sounds about right.”

“Now,” he props his arms over his knees. “What are you doing here? I thought you got too good for us and moved into the city,” he teases as he nudges you softly. 

You roll your eyes, but the light squishes out when you close your eyes. The images play on repeat behind them. Your heart rate surges again, you feel your breath begin to quicken. 

Joel’s hand lands on your knee, the other cups your neck. “Hey.”

Your eyes snap open. His soft brown ones are closer than you’ve ever seen them. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’tve asked.” 

You sign rubbing the tension from your neck. “I just worked 36 hours straight.”

“Holy fuck, isn’t that illegal or something?” 

You shake your head. “Discouraged, but the ER was a madhouse, just one thing after the other. We had a big trauma come in and none of us felt like we could leave. I got a few hours sleep at the hospital before my scheduled shift started.” You’re starting to feel the come down of the past few days and your panic attack. 

Joel looks concerned, like he’s looking you over for any physical injuries. Something that would explain your panic. 

You don’t let him ask anymore questions. “We had this car accident come in- yesterday? I can’t even tell you when.” You can’t get the knot out of your neck. You groan in frustration. 

“C’mere,” Joel motions you over. “I’ll get it.”

You listen, too tired to fight it or over analyze it. His thumbs dig into your tight muscles. You catch the moan before it falls out. “A couple UT students.” 

You contemplate spilling details, but they’re covered in blood, marrying with last year’s events. You can still feel the blood soaking through your scrubs. 

Joel pauses before catching a knot in your shoulder. You gasp in pain, but it feels good too. “Shit, did I hurt you?”

“No, keep going.” You say, and he listens. “They got hit by a drunk driver.”

Joel sucks in a breath. You know he’s thinking back to last fall, the accident that turned your family’s life upside down. It’s the only thing you’ve been able to see since the call came in, so eerily similar to last year. The surrounding events. The injuries. You were working the ER when they brought Carter’s mangled and bloody body in. You watched, helpless to do anything as your friends and colleagues tried to bring him back. You listened as they declared time of death. Even now, you hear the ringing of the flatlining monitor in your ears. 

Joel pulls you into a tight hug, your arms hanging limply at your sides. The exhaustion is just too much, but you appreciate it. It helps, makes you feel less alone. “Thank you.”

“Course.” He gives you another squeeze. “Let me finish working out your back.” 

You oblige, tension melting away as his fingers work toward your spine and then downward. You’d been on your feet for the better part of 2 days, and that was the least of it. 

You let out a long, deep breath, body beginning to settle. “Where’d you learn to do this?” You lean into his hands to increase the pressure. 

“Got real good at ’em when Pam was pregnant with Sarah.” You’re not sure you’ve ever heard Joel mention his estranged ex-wife so casually. 

“God, can’t imagine what would possess a woman to leave hands like yours.” The words slip out before you even have a chance to think through the implications of everything you just said. 

His hands stop moving, palms flat against your lower back. Heat rises to your cheeks in mortification. “Shit, Joel. I’m sorry. Obviously that’s not even an actual reason to stay. Like you have Sarah and that’s an actual reason and I can’t-“ Laughter cuts off the words cascading from your lips. 

You turn around to find Joel leaned back, his chest shaking as laughter comes from his belly, filling your parents' quiet home. You swear you even see a tear or two come from his eyes. One thing is for certain, Joel Miller is not stressed right now and he certainly wasn’t bothered by your comment. Quite the opposite actually. 

It’s contagious as the smile passes over your face. Your chest begins to shake. Mostly, you’re enjoying this rare sight. His crows’ feet crinkle at the corner of his eyes. Your heart skips a beat but you rein it in. 

Joel wipes the side of his eyes. “Pretty sure I was supposed to make you feel better.”. 

“You did.” 

“Glad to hear it.” He groans as he rises to his feet. “I’m getting too old to sit on the floor like that.” 

He offers his hand. You take it and he pulls you to your feet. “Thank you, Joel.”

He nods. “I need to get back to work. I told Sarah I’d be home by 6 tonight.” 

“What time is it?” 

Joel looks down at his watch. You took Sarah into the city last fall to get it fixed for his birthday. “Just past four.” 

You stare up the steps, contemplating staying in your childhood bedroom tonight. You don’t have the energy to make the 20 minute drive home. Your energy is draining by the second. 

“You need sleep, and probably a shower.”

“Showered at work.” The stairs look like Mount Everest to your weary bones. “Think I'll crash on the couch.”

Joel sees it. “You’d still have clothes here?”

“There’s a set of pajamas I left at Christmas in my old room.”

“I’ll get them for you.”

“Room with-“

“The pink walls.” He chuckles, stomping up the stairs. Guess it was obvious seeing as you’re the only girl. 

You’re standing in the exact spot he left you in when Joel gets back. Your sleep shorts, and thin top in his hands. “Thanks.”

“No problem, and if you need anything while you’re here, just come over. Sarah and I will be home all weekend. I’m sure she’d love to see you.”

“Thanks. Maybe I’ll stop by at some point. I’d love to see her too.”

You hadn’t seen Sarah since her soccer tournament this spring. You’d lived with your parents for almost a year after graduation before moving into the city to work at the only Level 1 trauma center in the area. 

Joel nods then stomps back up the steps. You change in the bathroom before folding into your parents' oversized sectional. It smells like comfort and all things nice. You can hear Joel working in your parents’ space upstairs, but it quickly fades as the darkness takes over. 

You wake up disoriented, not sure where you are. It’s completely dark around you, but you pull at little threads as they’re given. You’re definitely not in your bed. You can’t hear the city noises below your apartment. You sit up only to be greeted with a splitting headache. You’re in your parents' home. Everything comes filtering back through your brain. You shudder. You don’t want to think about it. 

You shove the blanket off your legs in a pursuit of water and advil. You don’t remember pulling a blanket over yourself, but quite frankly, you could’ve done anything in your sleep deprived state. The water dissolves the cotton in your mouth, but does little to dull the aching in your skull. You’ll have to wait for the drugs to kick in for that. The stove clock says it’s 2 am. 

You wander back to the couch, but the moment you lay down, the restlessness sets in. You toss and turn but your body says no. Finally, your headache has reduced to a dull ache, barely noticeable in the grand scheme of things. 

You know you need more sleep. You should probably sleep for 24 hours straight after the shift you just had, but you sit up again, brushing your hair out of your face. This is ridiculous. Your sleep schedule is already fucked up enough as is. Maybe you should start working the night shift. 

You pace through the dark house. You know the layout like the back of your hand. Your mother hasn’t so much as moved the furniture since you moved into this house when you were 6. 

You step out on the porch for air. It’s cooled down some. You contemplate driving home, but the peacefulness of the neighborhood is comforting. You can almost ignore the ache in your chest, pretend your brother is still alive. 

Across the street, you catch Joel’s TV playing some corny action movie through his big living room windows. You catch the outline of his head, the rehearsed movement of bringing a bottle to one’s lips. He’s not asleep.  

Your heart beats a little heavier in your chest. He had said to come over if you needed anything.  Right now, you need company. It might be the lack of sleep, but your bare feet hit the asphalt without a second thought as you cross the street. Your brain doesn’t even register what you’re doing until you knock on the door. 

You contemplate running away. Who doesn’t love a good game of ding dong ditch? You certainly did in your heyday. Why not relive the glory days when you ran this street?

The door opens pushing away all of the swirling thoughts in your mind. The cicadas play white noise in the background leaving your sole focus on Joel’s concerned brown eyes and your raging pulse. 

“You okay?” 

“I just- I saw your TV on. I woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep.” 

He gives you a soft smile, stepping aside. “Come on in.”

You exhale almost in relief, stepping across the familiar threshold. Part of you eases, but another tightens up. You’ve spent so many hours in this house, many late nights here, but never with Joel, with him watching you with such concern. Heat flares up your neck. 

“Can I get you anything? A snack? A drink?”

“It’s two a.m.”

“You’re the one who knocked on my door.” Joel teases.

“You told me to come over if I needed anything.”

“So what do you need?” The hour of the night scratches at his voice, sending a charge through the air. 

Your eyes snap up to his, knowing he didn’t mean anything by it other than to be kind, but it doesn’t help the way your skin prickles. You swallow down the lump that forms in your throat. “Company.” Joel smiles at you. Your eyes dart down to his lips. “And some water, please.”

“Coming right up.” He turns for the kitchen before you can do anything foolish. 

You rub your eyes, hoping to clear your head. Stupid, Stupid, Stupid, it runs through our mind. Your inhibitions are lowered after the high flying emotions of the day. You can’t fall into his arms. They’re not open for you, not like that. 

You settle into the corner of the couch, pulling your knees to you chest as the familiar smell envelops you. A cheesy action movie plays lowly on the tv. Joel isn’t too far behind, passing off a glass of water as he eases onto the middle of the couch, arms spread across the back of the sofa. He doesn’t say anything, returning his attention to the tv. You appreciate that he doesn’t ask too many questions. He’s just letting you be. 

You attempt to watch the movie, but it’s bad, almost endearingly bad, but Joel seems to enjoy it. He’s the thing holding your attention. Joel is a good distraction. You’ve never gotten the chance to admire his profile in this way, this close, this undisturbed. If Joel catches on to your staring, he doesn’t let on. He lets you study. 

At some point, your mind takes over again, reminding you of the brother you no longer have, of the deep cavern in your soul. It doesn’t pour out of you like it did earlier with the fury of a hurricane. This is more like a peaceful stream, tears silently gathering in your eyes, falling with little fanfare. 

Joel’s hand falls to your knee, squeezing it softly. It’s the only acknowledgement from him, but it’s what you need. Long after your tears are gone, Joel’s hand stays, his fingers tracing absentminded patterns against the inside of your leg. 

Some line makes Joel chuckle as he shifts further into the couch. Your legs have fallen out in front of you, one brushing his thigh. You’re not sure you’ve ever been this close to him, unless you count last summer when you got drunk at the Randolf’s party. Embarassment floods your system, making you withdraw your legs slightly. 

Joel’s brow furrows, head turning to you. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod, not sure you’re convincing. “I’m just shifting.”

He gives you a once over from top to bottom. Your stomach dips. You know he means nothing by it, but your body doesn’t get the memo. As if to make matters worse, Joel slings his arm back over both your legs, pulling them over his lap. It tugs you closer, pressing more of you against him. Nothing about it is inherently sexual, but your body is on fire. 

You can smell him. The mixture of fading old spice and the ever present smell of dirt that has seared itself to him. You can’t take your eyes off his profile now. You’re close enough to count his eye lashes if you wanted to. In all your life, you never though you would be this close to him, with his hands on you. 

It’s not like that. It’s not like that, you repeat in your head because it’s not. Joel would never look at you like that. He’s too good of a guy. He’s just showing you comfort, but you can’t stop looking at him. The temptation to make a move so close, it’s hard to ignore. It’s not like that.

It’s like your brain is running a million miles a second, taking Joel in, his proximity, while clinging tightly to the thread of self control that keeps you from closing the gap.

Then he’s looking at you and he’s so close. Lights from the tv flicker off his brown eyes, drawing you in further. It wouldn’t take much effort to press your lips to his. Before you can stop yourself, years of college party instincts take over and you kiss him. You kiss Joel Miller. 

It’s a soft, lingering kiss, and then your mind forces you to withdraw. Joel sits still as a statue. He didn’t really kiss you back, but he didn’t push you away, and then it all comes crashing down. This isn’t some fucking frat party. He’s not a peer. This is Joel Miller. You spring to your feet. 

“Shit- fuck, Joel. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Your hands tangle in your hair. “I should go.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Joel stands. His hand cups your elbow, head stooping to be at eye level with yours. Tears shine in your eyes again. 

“It’s not actually.” You pinch the bridge of your nose, desperate to stop them. You’re not sure you can handle more tears right now. 

“Sweetheart, I promise. It’s not a big deal. You’re goin through a lot.” 

Your shoulders drop with relief. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He smiles. “You’re welcome to stay here tonight if you don’t want to be alone. I’ll take the couch.” 

And you want to say yes so badly. It sits on the tip of your tongue. You imagine what it would be like to curl up under his sheets, be immersed in him, but you swallow the quick response down. “Thanks, but I’ll be okay at home.” 

Joel nods. You think you catch some relief in his eyes. He probably wasn’t looking forward to sleeping on the couch. He scratches the back of his neck. 

“I don’t know how long you’re planning to hang around, but you’re welcome to join us for breakfast tomorrow. Sarah usually makes pancakes on Saturdays. I’m not a huge pancake person, but she loves it.”

You decide at that moment Joel Miller is a saint. You just made a fool of yourself. He shouldn’t want to see you again, let you around his kid, but he invites you over for breakfast, offers up his bed. 

“I’ll think about it.” You walk to the door. “Thanks. For everything.” You mean it too. 

“Of course. It’s what neighbors are for.”

You laugh. “Pretty sure this goes past the moral obligations of being neighbors.”

Joel shrugs. “You’ve been the one steady female influence in Sarah’s life. Pretty sure it goes past the moral obligations of being a babysitter.”’

A smile ghosts over your lips. “Goodnight, Joel.”

You open the front door. The wood of the front porch is still warm against your bare feet. Joel leans against the door frame. “Night, Sweetheart.” 

You wave, dashing across the street. You know you’re imagining it when you feel Joel watching you until your parents front door is shut behind your back, but you never hear his front door close. 

Taglist: @pedrotonin @amyispxnk @joeldjarin @ilovepedro @justagalwhowrites

@missladym1981 @jessthebaker @annieispunk @ashleyfilm @moel-jiller

@eloquentdreamer @lizzie-cakes @hiroikegawa

I carried over the taglist from Woman. If you were tagged and no longer want to be, please let me know! If you would like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!

[dnd-writes]

It's Not You, It's Me

AO3

Tags: Non-con, surprise surprise Sex toy!Gowon, con to non-con, forced creampie, painal, lots of painal, slapping, fingering, forced orgasms, sexual slavery, bondage, sex toys, mind break A/N: Happy birthday to Princess Gowon! (hello @kaedespicelatte)

You pull out then take the condom off and offer it to Gowon. While you head toward the edge of the bed to look through your things, Gowon is busy audibly slurping the cum out of the condom. She likes the taste of cum but hates blowjobs, at the same time she loves having sex with you but doesn’t like creampies (and because she’s a responsible, sexually-competent woman who doesn’t want the risk of getting knocked up or risk getting STDs). You’ve always wanted to cum inside of her, in any hole really, but no matter what you ask the answer was always a no. Even just simply anal she wouldn’t agree to, with or without a condom. Even just once you would want to cum in her but it seems like that moment is years away, maybe it might not even arrive. You love her but sometimes you hoped she would consider, what about your needs?

You finally find your wallet but to your surprise you find no condoms inside, you search through your pants but to your dismay, nothing. You suddenly remember that you left all the ones you bought back at your place and it’s too late to go back and get them. What do you do? You’re still hard and horny and the birthday girl wants her gift of vaginal sex and a mouthful of cum. Maybe today is the day?

“Oppa, is something wrong?”

“No, no, nothing. Just… couldn’t find my wallet,” you flat out lie but it did the trick anyway, Gowon lies back down and continues sucking your cum out of the used condom. You take the wrapper of the used condom and pretend you’re opening another one, you hurriedly put on the “new condom” to make up for lost time and quickly get back on top of Gowon.

You bury your face into Gowon’s neck, peppering her exposed skin with kisses and nibbles, tickling her but only to avert her attention from what you’re really doing. The tip of your cock presses against her opening and you can already tell how much you’re going to enjoy it. You push your dick inside and the initial feeling is already orgasmic, the warmth, the wetness, the freedom, previously restricted by those damned pieces of rubber now able to be felt by your cock.

You feel Gowon shift as you start pumping your cock, out of fear you start sucking on her skin to bring her attention back to your mouth. “Oppa, don’t…” You pull away quickly, slowing down your thrusts as you stare at Gowon scared. She, however, just chuckles at your reaction. She pulls your head to the other side of her neck, “Don’t stop…” she mutters.

You raise Gowon’s legs as you start thrusting harder and faster, the heavenly sensations brought from fucking her cunt raw exhilirating you. You’ve never heard Gowon moan so much before, your quick thrusts and your attack on her neck sending waves of pleasure throughout her body, and it’s all thanks to you finally fucking her raw. Maybe she’ll thank you even, thank you for such a wonderful fuck, then maybe she’ll let you fuck her raw another time. “Fuck, oppa… You feel so good in me! Yes, just fuck me like this all the time.”

Though as you ponder on the joyous reaction it is giving you, you also start to feel resentment grow in you knowing Gowon held this away from you, a two-year long relationship with an active sex life and not once have you two done something on your terms. No blowjobs, no anal, no raw sex, hell, not even handjobs were done without the use of a condom. You’re tired of it. This majestic feeling of her vaginal walls clamping down on you, you crave more of it. You feel a newfound boldness rush inside of you as you fuck Gowon raw against her wishes, you’re starting to feel an urge to fuck her ass tonight too… whether she lets you or not.

You feel your orgasm approaching and a hint of panic sets in you. Where do you release, inside or out? Does it really matter? Either way Gowon will find out you didn’t use a condom so you might as well make the most of it. 

“Fuck yes, oppa…” Gowon cries out, though this is the first time you’ve heard her sound so enthusiastic and you know you should be happy about it but it just makes you angrier knowing that you two could have experienced this much sooner. You channel your rage into your hips and now you’re practically drilling into her. “Cum with me… Oppa, let’s cum together.”

Gowon’s fluids gush out and shortly after you feel your cum shoot into her womb, her body rocks and shakes as the pleasure fills her head. “That was am— Wait, what the hell?” Her euphoric state is short lived as she feels an unfamiliar warmth residing inside of her pussy, she pushes you off of her and, upon seeing your dick exit her without a condom, she punches your arm. “What’s wrong with you?! I told you to use a condom, you jerk!” Gowon punches your arm again and you flinch, caressing the part of your arm she hit twice.

You flash her a wicked smile, “But you loved it didn’t you? You were moaning so loud and you came hard. Don’t tell me you didn’t love that.”

“Love it? I hated it. You came inside me! Now get out of my place, you ruined my birthday, thanks so much.” She slaps your face as she stares at you with a mix of frustration and confusion. “I just ask you to use a condom when we have sex, is that too hard, oppa?” She twists her pronunciation of your nickname, adding a sarcastic twist that makes it sound like she’s reminding you of what you’re supposed to be to her.

Gowon tries to get up but you push her back into the bed. This time around you slap her face. She gives you an angrier look, her hand flies towards you but you catch it and grip her wrist, then you slap her again, and again, and again. Anger quickly turns to fear and her eyes begin to water. “I-I’m sorry…” she chokes out. “P-Please, oppa… You’re hurting me,” she begs, but you grip her wrist tighter and she shouts in pain. 

“Two years. Two years and you never want to have sex the way I want. I just ask to fuck without a condom once, or even anal, or even a blowjob. But. You. Won’t. Allow it.” You punctuate each final word with a slap to Gowon’s face and now she’s full on sobbing. 

“I’m sorry, oppa. Please…”

You should be ashamed of yourself for doing such things to her but the stinging in your palm and the sounds of her crying just invigorate you instead. You feel your cock throbbing heavily, lightly slapping against Gowon’s wet pussy. You take your cock and ready yourself to fuck her pussy raw again but the moment you see her tiny asshole, you quickly switch plans.

Gowon notices your slight pause and starts to scream when she sees you aiming lower. “NO! No, please. Not there, please, anywhere else but there. We can have sex… without a condom any time, you can cum in me always. Just not my butt please, oppa.” Gowon begs and tries to negotiate as if her life was on the line but you’ve already made up your mind, there’s nothing she can say or do that will stop you from claiming her anal virginity.

“Just relax, Gowon. Unless you want it to hurt.” Gowon quivers in fear as you poke your index against her rectum, you try to start by fingering her ass but Gowon is already whining as you struggle to even fit in one finger. “Hnnnggg… I-I can’t, your dick won’t fit, oppa. Please… You don’t have to use condoms, ever! I’ll… I’ll let you use my mouth, and, and, and my pussy… Yes, I’ll let you use those any time you like, just don’t… Just not my butt, please!” Another futile protest falling straight into your ignorance, it’s so funny seeing her squirm, struggling to fit a tiny finger inside her tight butthole. You just know wrecking her ass with your cock will easily become the best thing you’ve ever done and the best experience you’ve ever had in your whole life. 

You try for one last time, you dip your finger in Gowon’s mouth and coat it in her spit. You try fingering her ass again but you only manage to insert up to your fingernail before you start struggling. Maybe you can forcibly stretch her ass using your dick, that sounds like a much better plan to you.

You grab Gowon’s hands and put them on her butt cheeks. “Spread your ass for me, bitch.” Gowon’s reluctant and hesitant, but seeing your stubbornness she knows there’s nothing she can do to persuade you from destroying her butt though she still tries. “Please, oppa… I’m sorry, I’ll make it up to you, just… not like this.” Her voice is much weaker now as her hands try so desperately to open up her asshole, even so, her ass looks relatively the same, it’s like her ass wants to stay as tight as ever. You don’t mind, it just means it’s more painful, which means you’re going to enjoy every second even more.

“Hnnnngggg… Please, PLEASE! It won’t fit,” Gowon screams, begging for another time as she feels your cock poking her ass. Her sphincter is so tight that you can’t even get the tip through, it feels like you’re a chisel cutting through stone. You dig your fingers into her hips, anchoring yourself as you push further. Gowon’s screams intensify as you slowly rip her ring open. It takes so much effort just to make it past the entrance but your tip forces its way through and you feel her hole wrapped tightly around your girth.

“I can’t take it… Oppa, please… It hurts so much… Please, PLEASE, FUUUCCCKKK!!!” It really does feel like you’re tearing her insides apart, even though you’ve breached the entrance you feel yourself pushing through her anal walls, still making room for your entire dick to fit inside. Gowon’s cries are relentless, only ever stopping when you stop moving or to inhale some air. It’s so different compared to when you usually have sex with Gowon, she usually just moans or yells she’s coming. But right here, right now, her voice fills the room, screaming like there’s no tomorrow. You much prefer this side of her, much louder, much more expressive. You no longer feel like you’re the toy in the relationship, no longer feel like you’re only being used during sex as you turn the tables around and use her instead.

You suddenly feel Gowon’s soft butt pressing into your crotch, you look down and realize you’re fully sheathed in her ass. Gowon’s screams stop and are replaced by erratic breaths as she still struggles to hold you inside. Her ass is like heaven, sure it doesn’t have the warmth and wetness her pussy offers but it’s so much tighter, it feels snug but at the same time it squeezes you like a vice. “Wow, your ass is the best. Now I know why you wouldn’t let me fuck it, you knew I would get addicted, fuck…”

“Oppa… please take it out… I’ve learned my lesson, I’m sorry,” she squeaks out after recovering some of her energy. 

“What lesson? There isn’t any. I’m just claiming what’s mine.” Your hand snakes up to Gowon’s neck and you see her brace herself. Your fingers wrap around her delicate skin and you just begin to squeeze. You can feel Gowon’s breath, her rapid pulse, and all her swallowing as you continue to constrict her neck. At the same time, you feel Gowon’s ass clench and tighten around you, the more you squeeze her neck the more her ass clenches. She really is a toy, a toy for your own personal pleasure.

You’re not even fucking Gowon at the moment, you just have your cock stuffed fully into her ass, but the way her walls tighten and clench periodically, you might not even have to. You toy with Gowon’s neck, randomly switching up how tight you grip it. You clamp down on Gowon’s neck, suffocating her, you can feel every struggle through her neck, every choke, every gag, every attempt to breathe, it’s wonderful. You let go before things get too far, the life in Gowon’s face lights up again as she’s allowed to breathe, but you keep your grip on her neck, just enough to feel every sensation coursing through it.

You give Gowon’s pussy a nice hard slap and her body jolts violently, her ass clenches harder and as her hands give way and let go, her asshole tightens way more than it just did. Gowon tries to stretch her ass open again but you have a different plan for her hands.

“Touch yourself, make yourself cum,” you order.

“Please, oppa… I don’t—”

You slap her pussy again and she screams at the top of her lungs. “Fine then.” You take matters into your own hands as you shove three fingers into her cunt, still wet as earlier. “You’re liking this, aren’t you? You’re so wet. You love my dick in your asshole, don’t you, you whore,” you say, mocking her for still being wet despite what you’re doing to her ass.

“No, I don’t. I… don’t…” Gowon tries to refute but you squeeze her neck and prevent her from talking further.

You haven’t moved your hips in a long while and yet you feel yourself so close to cumming. You keep your grip on Gowon’s neck hard, just enough for her to still breathe. You start pistoning your hand in her pussy, practically punching her crotch at the speed you’re going. You use the other parts of Gowon’s body like buttons on a remote, affecting the way her anal walls clamp around your cock.

“Cum with me, let’s cum together,” you say, repeating the very words she told you earlier. You continue to piston your hand into her pussy without abandon. The closer Gowon gets to her climax, the tighter her ass squeezes you, and the closer you are as well. You slowly start to lose yourself in the sensation, gripping her neck harder and pumping your arm faster. You keep going and going until you’re practically crushing her windpipe and turning her pussy lips red. 

Gowon starts screaming with what little air is left in her system as you feel the rush of her juices surge past your fingers. Shortly after you reach your own high as well, shooting rope after rope of your cum deep down her ass. You pull out and collapse beside Gowon, both of you panting after such intense orgasms. 

Gowon starts to speak, forcing out words as she regains her energy. “Get out. I’m not gonna tell anyone about this… just as long as you leave me alone. I’m gonna clean up first but after that… I never wanna see you again.” Gowon sniffles as she fights tears after breaking the relationship. She makes attempts to get up but her legs are barely getting off the bed. Finally, after a few tries, you see her stand up. You notice Gowon grabs her phone as she heads to the bathroom and you immediately get to your feet. “What are you doing with that?” you shout, stopping Gowon in her tracks just a few feet away from the bathroom door.

“Nothing. I promise. Nothing. Just… leave me alone!”

You catch a glimpse of Gowon’s screen, the numbers “112” already pressed shining bright as day. You lunge after Gowon, she tries to turn around and use the bathroom as shelter but she trips on her own feet and ends up flat on the ground. You quickly pin her arms behind her back and use your other hand to reach for her phone, you quickly press the red button in time while it is still ringing. 

You press Gowon’s head down, pushing the side of her face even harder into the floor. Gowon wails as she tries to squirm from underneath you but her strength is unmatched with your entire weight on top of her. 

“I’M SORRY, OPPA! I’M REALLY SORRY! I PROMISE I WON’T DO IT, I PROMISE!” Gowon shouts and apologizes but you’ve had enough of all of it. You shove Gowon’s face even harder causing her to groan in the additional pressure burning into the side of her head. You’ve had enough of her, her antics, her false promises, her empty apologies, her pussy. 

Maybe Gowon does need a lesson after all, maybe she needs a lesson to not mess with you. And what better way to teach her than to give her what she truly deserves—a good pounding. 

You try to keep her steady but her small body keeps squirming to free herself, one simple slap to the face does the trick as she goes limp. The tip of your cock presses against Gowon’s asshole again. “Scream. Scream for me, bitch. I want to fucking hear it,” you whisper into her ear, knowing just how bad it’s gonna be for her. 

No more of that slow and steady bullshit you did earlier, Gowon’s had her time to adjust to your size, if she still can’t handle it then that’s on her. You shove yourself inside, spearing through Gowon’s anal walls. You groan as you hurt yourself from trying to force your cock inside a tight hole but that doesn’t compare to the absolute feral, guttural scream coming from Gowon.

“AHHHH STOP STOP! I’M… SORRY! STOP PLEASE PULL IT OUT!” You drown in the sounds of Gowon’s pain as you thrust relentlessly into her body. The pleasure you garner from her screams drowns out the pain you feel as you struggle to fuck such a tiny hole.

“Fuck… Your ass is so tight, it’s gonna milk me forever. You wanna be my cum slut? Just taking my cum in your ass all the time?” You lightly tap her face a few times, reminding her that you’re talking to her.

“NO PLEASE… I’M SORRY, I REALLY AM!” Gowon barely manages to shake her head with her face literally pressed against the floor. 

“Well, too fucking late. I make the decisions now.” You let go of Gowon’s body and lean forward, finding a better angle to destroy her ass in. Though her hands are free, they just fall lifeless at her sides, not even attempting to do anything to save herself. Gowon’s ass really is made for milking cocks as you feel yourself approaching yet another orgasm. The tightness of her anal walls just proves too much for you to even contain yourself for too long. 

“Take my cum, you dirty fucking whore!” you shout as you feel your cock draining into her insides. You pull out and stand up and Gowon just lies there motionless with a trail of white leaking between her legs. “When I’m done with you… You’re going to want nothing but my dick up your ass.”

You can’t risk letting Gowon out, can’t risk her talking to anyone else. You have to keep her, you must keep her by your side forever. You get up and start looking through Gowon’s belongings, though she’s still unmoving on the floor since you left her alone, your eyes still shift constantly at her body just in case she tries anything.

At her desk you find her vibrator, just a simple wand massager, and you know just where to keep it. Rummaging through her drawers you manage to find some zip ties, perfect. You head back over to Gowon and start tying her wrists together behind her back. You carry her back to the bed then turn on the vibrator and press it against her clit. You close her legs around it then tie her thighs and ankles together.

“Oppa, please… I’m sorry…” Gowon’s voice is barely audible through the soft buzzing between her legs. You would love to hear her moan and scream but the constant begging is beginning to annoy you. You head over to her closet and the first thing that you notice is a green dress that you bought for her. You don’t even spare a second as you take it and start ripping through the fabric, its meaning lost on you, and not like Gowon would have a use for it anyway. “Oppa, please, no! Please, don’t! I hate—” You gather up some of the torn fabric and use it to shut Gowon up for good.

You yawn and realize that it’s getting late, it’s been a long night. You climb onto the other side of the bed and snuggle into Gowon. You turn her to her side and raise her leg up so you can insert your cock into her ass, still a struggle to do so but a little less than earlier. Once you manage to park yourself into her ass, you pull her close to you and embrace her, your naughty hands cupping her small chest and playing with her nipples as you close your eyes and slowly drift to sleep. “Happy birthday. Good night.”

Morning rolls around and you realize you’ve overslept, you quickly text in sick and decide to be productive with your day, in regards to Gowon of course. First, you check up on her. Your dick is still rammed inside of her tight hole and as you check between her legs, her side of the bed is soaked in her juices. Gowon’s eyes are half-closed, you can see her try to go to sleep but with the state of her lower half, it’s hard to do so. “You look like you had a lot of fun,” you joke.

Though before you leave, you want to take care of your morning wood, and with Gowon so generously already taking care of your cock, you might as well use it to solve your problem. 

As you get above Gowon, you turn her around and bury her face into the sheets. You only now realize that you can feel the vibrator even while you’re inside of her ass. As you start thrusting into her, you employ your technique of choking Gowon out to force her ass tighter. “You’re really just a fleshlight, aren’t you?” you say, noting the similarities between your toy here and your toy back at your place, especially the way that Gowon’s ass squeezes just as you squeeze her neck.

It doesn’t take you long to orgasm, not with your cock trapped in that tight cage all night as it tightens and pulses frequently. You pull out and smile as you watch your load seep out of her rectum. Two years, that long you’ve waited to finally see such a wonderful sight, and you had to force her just to get it. You spank Gowon’s ass as you leave her. “Gonna be back, just gotta buy a few things for you.” You grab your clothes from the night before off the floor and get dressed, you also make sure you grab your and Gowon’s phone on the way out..

You get into your car and drive into the city to start shopping for new accessories for your toy. The first thing you buy is a dildo gag. As you shove the thing inside of her mouth she starts choking, having not sucked your cock ever her throat isn’t trained to handle anything down there. Maybe with that gag she can finally handle your dick soon enough when you decide to force yourself into her mouth too.

Next you buy two vibrators, the first is one you keep permanently in her pussy, the second is a vibrating butt plug that you use on her ass whenever you aren't home. The last accessory you buy are nipple clamps, with the chain just a little too short to wrap behind her neck but for you it was the perfect length, either Gowon raises her head to let her nipples rest or she rests her head but in turn her nipples are tugged.

Every day before work and every night after, you spend your time in the bedroom, just fucking Gowon’s ass non-stop, you keep a tray beneath her butt to catch all the cum that leaks out and all the juice she squirts, then you either mix it into her food or water before serving it to her. Even after a month of non-stop anal, Gowon’s ass still feels as tight as ever, every moment you fuck her feels almost as great as the first time you did so.

After a while, you move stuff over from your place to Gowon��s. After all, if you’re going to be by her side all the time, might as well just properly live together with her. Now lazy time has upgraded from lying in bed and falling asleep as you watch videos on your phone to cock warming and spooning Gowon while you both watch videos on your phone.

Days turn to weeks, weeks into months, and months into a full year. Your alarm blares and you jolt awake, it’s Gowon’s birthday! You hurriedly and abruptly take everything off of her body, the zip ties, the three vibrators, the clamps, and the gag. The sudden loss of the overwhelming pressure is in and of itself overwhelming, Gowon collapses spread eagled on the bed as her body is in peace, her pussy isn’t overstimulated, there’s nothing lodged in her throat, there’s no buzzing in her ears, and there’s nothing pulling her nipples. She looks over at your naked body standing to the side of the bed, “O… Oppa?” Her voice comes out a little hoarse having not said a word in a year. 

You give her a warm smile as you play with her hair. “Hey, baby. Happy birthday! What present do you want from me this year?”

Gowon takes a while to answer, staring at you, at your dick, then back into your eyes. “A-Ass…” she whispers.

You lean forward with a bigger smile on your face, “Come again?” you ask, you heard it clearly but you wanted to savor the moment.

“Ass… I want… my ass fucked, oppa.” 

You jumped for joy, you did it, you broke her mind. After a full year of endlessly force fucking her asshole, she’s finally asking you to stuff her butt. Lots of new avenues open up as your anal toy has just been upgraded to an anal pet, you can make Gowon drop to her knees and present her ass every time you tell her to or maybe even just make her present ass all the time she’s at home. But you choose to ponder on those thoughts for later, right now the princess has a wish and you’re willing to grant it. As you get on the bed, Gowon raises her legs and spreads her cheeks for you. “I love you, Gowon.”

[stagark]

Warmth Amidst Dust

Gender-neutral Reader & Jiyan Comfort

Minors DNI - this blog writes dark and sexual content.

Content warnings: Panic/anxiety/ptsd attacks, left vague but reader experiences extreme dissociation and derealization and struggles to breathe due to anxious thoughts. Mentions of minor character death, paranoia on reader’s part. Basically, reader has a panic attack and Jiyan holds you while you breathe. Please be aware of the tags and do not read if these topics may trigger you.

Can be interpreted as romantic or platonic! You are a soldier under General Jiyan who has pushed yourself too hard recently, causing panic attacks. General Jiyan noticed and offered a shoulder to hold while you relearn how to breathe.

Word count: 1.5k - Also read on Ao3

You never once thought you would ever thank the dust of Norfall Barrens. As a rookie soldier you had grimaced through it, determined to protect the city you loved despite the discomforts and hardship of enlisting in the Midnight Rangers.

But now, three years later, it was a welcome respite from the sharp, biting winds. The particles stuck to your sweat-slick skin, a grimy but effective layer that allowed you to fight the abominations with a shield from the bone-chilling wind streams. The icy breeze got to you over time, seeming to attack your skin at every opportunity, leaving your limbs tender and your bones brittle.

Unexpectedly, what relieved the wind chill the most was another gale, one scripted by your trusted general, Jiyan. He moved like a deadly dancer guided by a loong dragon’s spirit. It was clear your sentinel itself chose Jinzhou’s general, his unwavering sense of justice an arrowhead directing the war against the Lament’s effects.

A composed man who overflowed with warmth and care at his core, he warmed every space he ever entered both with his aero resonance and his very spirit. The medic turned leader was almost universally beloved, a man who faught alongside his soldiers, a voice of strength and reason so desperately needed in and out of the battle field. His mere presence strengthened resolve against the Lament’s corruption, igniting and directing soldiers’ will to fight for their home like the strong tendrils of wind that uplift gentle embers into roaring and ferocious wildfires. His guidance inspired you and so many others, and you worked hard to earn your place in a unit directly below him.

The call of your name by one of your companions shook you out of your thoughts. In the relative safety of your camp you were able to let your mind float following your shifts on watch. You tended to do that more often these days. Only in battle was your mind sharp; otherwise you were simply a shell of a human, no different from a golden echo on the field. Warmth graced your hands in the form of a bowl of hot soup, the scent of spices wafted into your nose, a very welcome surprise. Such commodities were rare these days, perking up even your dulled senses.

“Come on, I know you’re tired from your shift but we have a feast prepared today!” a new fellow you fought alongside with today called at you with a smile. You managed to offer one back. A feast in these parts meant warm food and extra proteins, and spices it seemed, this time. A welcome blessing in this hell. While you’re sure you would be glad, truly, your soul never stirred in celebrating any longer. Years of war had stolen your life force, only your determination and spite sustaining you. But it was easy to wear a mask of normalcy, falling into habits to alleviate your mind of a little bit of stress, letting your consciousness float and watch your body acting from above you, a spectator instead of a player.

The warmth of the bowl certainly sang to your body, blood pumping heartily from the sustenance. But your mind was as barren as the lands you camped on, a floating ghost devoid of nearly everything, that only came to life with skill and sharpness gifted to you in battle by adrenaline.

That very familiar chemical rushed through your veins, releasing your body from its cold prison and igniting your muscles to tense, ready for action. A foreign sound had resonated around you, causing the adrenaline to release. The call was loud at first, a deep bellow sounded, followed by quick, breathless exhales of mirth and an echo of the very sound by vaguely familiar voices. It occurred to you then: laughter. The noise was laughter. You shifted your gaze around the camp, finding the young soldier who handed you a bowl howling heartily with some senior officers. How long had it been since you had heard laughter for it to sound so foreign to you?

You truly didn’t know.

It wasn’t unwelcome, but it was a disruption to your routine that allowed the voices in your head to rise louder, your mind waking to make sense of the new occasion.

What was the joke, why was your comrade so happy? asked your mind. Mild annoyance traipsed through your thoughts, uncharacteristic, but an understandable ally. This was not a place for disruptions. Anything could happen here.

What if there were TDs creeping up on the camp right now? What if they had heard the ring of joy and legions of them were gathering to snuff it out, racing here in ground-shaking gallops like horsemen of the apocalypse. You had seen so many of your allies, your friends, fall to those beasts. Resounding memories of their cheers of camaraderie in the early days echo throughout your mind, cruelly juxtaposed with visuals of their brutal deaths. The monsters taunted you, holding your loved ones’ image captive and jeering at you while they poisoned your world, your beloved city, your home.

The world around you seemed to distort at the thought, the sky dropping. You were caged in by some invisible force, and noisy panic bubbled in your chest. Air began to feel denser, a newly elusive substance your lungs had to chase. The very thing you began craving seemed to mock you, seeming to grip your ribs and crush them inwards while refusing to let you draw in a breath. Your chest stuttered and attempted to heave before being yanked back by your achingly empty lungs as you began hiccuping for breath. Only when your airways started to sting and your face began to numb did you realize your situation and manage to gasp for breath.

You didn’t know how long had passed after you wheezed the sound of panic. You felt nothing until the bowl you were clutching was removed from your lap. A large hand came to rest on your shoulder, replacing its warmth. A scent so familiar that it unconsciously calmed you followed its motion: a fresh forest breeze tinged with the sharp sting of metal. The air began to flow in smoothly, enriching your body. A cooperative ally once more.

“Breathe, soldier,” the strong voice rumbled.

General Jiyan. Your general, Jiyan. The air once again blessed your bloodstream, feeding every inch of your body and once again giving you the gift of life. You had begun to breathe slowly and deeply, just as you had learned in training. In for four, hold for four, out for four. The familiar timings of the count served to calm both your body and mind.

The presence of safety, of your general’s strength near you, was a very welcomed gift. You sighed from your chest once the world had returned to clarity and life size in your vision and you once again heard the murmur of celebration around you. Unfortunately, your reaction was not unfamiliar to you. The toll of seemingly endless battle drew on your very soul, leaving your body weak and weary. And yet, after dozens of times, not even a decorated soldier under the great General Jiyan could manage to snap yourself out of the hell on Earth that was your own mind, not on your own, not in a way that left you sane.

“I’m sorry, general. I let my head get the best of me. Thank you for-“

The hand on your shoulder squeezed gently but firmly, a message to stop talking. As you looked up to gaze in the golden eyes of your general, you were met with pure gentle care. His understanding smile reached his eyes.

You caved to your pure exhaustion. Wordlessly, he let you relax into him, your head coming to rest against the front of his shoulder. You sighed once more, lungs filling to capacity and deflating equally in rhythmic undulation as your spirit came back to inhabit your body, bit by bit. Your general was so warm, so caring, so safe. Eyes closing against his form, your breathing slowed even without your measured counting. One steady hand gripped your side while the other came to rest along your shoulder blade, forearm resting comfortingly against your tired back. He rubbed gentle circles firm into your spine, grounding and soothing the ache in your muscles.

“Don’t speak. Ive seen you pick up extra shifts, push yourself hard. It is the most worthy of causes, no one here faults you, least of all me. But your work is done today, soldier. Rest.”

There was no hint of a waver in his voice, no false sympathy or concern. This was General Jiyan. This was safe. You nodded into his chest, accepting the help you so desperately needed. Jiyan hummed his approval as he continued to soothe your back. You could feel him brush away the dusr, replacing its tentative shield with his own unrelenting one. Your very bones seemed to breathe again, and your thoughts wandered not to the chaos and havoc of the war, but to the warmth and comfort of your general’s presence as you were surrounded by a joyful camp, grounding you instead of letting you dissociate. This was safe, and so, you breathed.

[thatacotargirl]

A Court of Emberfall and Starlight (1)

A warm welcome to A Court of Emberfall and Starlight! This series will explore Eris and Rhys' Sister Reader. I am beyond excited at what this new story will bring, I hope you follow along for the journey!

The character of Rhys' Sister Reader has experienced trauma from her time Under the Mountain. This is not explored in this chapter, but will be explored in future chapters. Please take care to read the warnings for each chapter before you begin.

A special thank you to @the-wall-willow for requesting this pairing 💜

Warnings: descriptions of a panic attack, allusions to trauma

An Eris x Rhys' Sister Reader Fanfiction

Reader POV

With the number of targets we have on our backs and the war with Hybern looming, it's no surprise that my brother has me under lock and key in our home.

It doesn't mean I have to be happy about it.

After Rhys and I came back from Under the Mountain, it was like a switch had flipped in his brain. We had always been the 'dynamic duo', as Cassian called us, scaring our parents half to death with our stupidly daring and adventurous antics. But, after what we went through, it was as though Rhys saw just how close to death we had been, and couldn't stand the thought. Our nighttime flights and audacious excursions ceased immediately and everywhere I went, one of Azriel's shadows followed closely behind. As the hostility between Courts increased, so did my protections, until now - where I am effectively under house arrest for the foreseeable future.

I love my brother and I know he worries, but if I have to spend another day trapped in these walls, I think I might scream.

-

"Y/N, ARE YOU READY YET?"

I'm pretty sure the entire population of Velaris just heard Cassian ask if I am ready. Looking in the mirror, I smooth down my black satin skirt and adjust the silver, cropped tank top. With a brief nod to myself, I head out of my bedroom and down to the living room, where Cassian is waiting to fly me to the River House.

I am living at the House of Wind at the minute, sharing a home with Cassian and Azriel. Rhys wanted me to stay at the River House with him and Feyre, but I argued that I needed my own space - largely so I didn't have to hear them every time I left the room. I mean, really, on the dining table? I eat breakfast there!

Rhys agreed to me moving into the House of Wind as long as I agreed to not leave without Cassian or Azriel accompanying me. Like I'd be able to otherwise... I am quite happy to walk down the 10,000 steps to the street, but walk back up 10,000 steps? Not a chance. I also have to do weekly check-ins with Rhys to make sure I am ok, especially after what happened Under the Mountain. I still haven't spoken about it with anyone, not even Rhys, and he treats me like a fragile snow globe as a result - worried that he'll say the wrong thing and I'll crash and burn.

Today, however, is a little different. Today we are all heading to the River House to discuss the plan for tomorrow's High Lord meeting. All the High Lords will be visiting the Night Court to talk battle preparations ahead of the impending Hybern threat. Now that the High Lords know about Velaris, and at Helion and Tarquin's insistence that they see it, Rhys offered to host as an olive-branch gesture to ensure their alliance should war break out.

"Ready".

You smile at Cassian as you approach and let him tuck his arms under your back and knees, before taking to the skies. You roll 180 degrees in his arms once you're flight-born so he is holding you with both hands under your stomach and your body facing down towards Velaris. It's one of your favourite ways to fly, letting your arms swing out in front of you like you have wings of your own. You can feel Cassian's chest shake with a chuckle as you hold your arms out like a bird, enjoying the way the wind feels around your face. You didn't inherit Rhys' ability to grow wings. In fact, you didn't seem to inherit Rhys' anything. Despite being almost a century old and technical heir to the Night Court, until Rhys and Feyre have their first child, you hadn't yet displayed a single power of your own.

Cassian lands gentle on the balcony of the River House and you give his shoulder a gentle pat in thanks before walking through to find your brother.

"RHYYYYYYSSAAAANNNNNNDDDDD"

"Cauldron, y/n, I'm right here".

You grin as Rhys rounds his office door and engulfs you in a bear hug.

"I've missed you".

"Yeah yeah, don't pull the soppy big brother bullshit on me now". But you hug him just that bit tighter.

"Thank you for coming, we could use your input for the meeting tomorrow".

"My input? Rhys, I'm flattered, but I'm as useful as a chocolate teapot for anything to do with you High Lords".

Rhys chuckles before ruffling your hair and pulling you into his office.

"You've always had a way with words, and we need to appease all the High Lords to make sure we're allied should Hybern strike. It's going to be hard enough with Tamlin attending, let alone Beron".

"Tamlin and Beron are coming?"

You shudder in mock horror, much to Rhys' amusement.

"Yes, both of them. And whilst I might be the one and only Night Court High Lord, no one holds a candle to you when it comes to pulling on heartstrings and having them wrapped around your finger".

He's not wrong. From the moment you were born, you had Rhys wrapped around your little finger. He was your built in best friend and protector. Once Cassian and Azriel joined the picture, you suddenly have 3 best friends and 3 protectors, all of whom would kill for you. Or run out to buy you ice cream at 2 in the morning. Or really anything else you asked them for.

"Fine, I'll help".

"That's my girl. Will you stay here tonight? It would be nice to have you stay for dinner".

"I'd like that. What time will dinner be?"

"7pm - and it'll just be you, me, and Feyre. Cassian has gone to join Az in Windhaven and they won't be back until tomorrow morning now; and Feyre should be home from the studio at around 6ish".

You nod in response and turn to leave, letting Rhys carry on with whatever he was working on at his desk. Looking at the clock as you leave his office, you see that it's only 3pm. A mischievous smile crosses your face as you turn back, checking that Rhys has his back to you, before turning left out of his office towards the front door. Opening it as quietly as you can, you take one last look behind you, before making a break for it.

-

Velaris at 3pm in the early autumn is one of the most special times. There is a slight chill in the air, but the sun still warms you enough to be comfortable. The trees are turning, their red, orange and yellow colours filling your sight as far as you can see. Autumn might just be one of your favourite times of the year, besides Starfall and the Winter Solstice, naturally.

You want to get your brother and Feyre a gift, or maybe dessert for tonight, but you don't want them to know that you snuck out of the House alone against their instructions. Sighing, you decide that you might as well make the most of it, and enjoy a cup of coffee and a slice of cake at your favourite bakery on the Rainbow. You make your way there, walking in a happy daze, watching the rest of Velaris' citizens bustling about with their day. It makes you smile, seeing how happy everyone looks. But with each smiling face, you're reminded of what you had to do to guarantee it. What you had to sacrifice for it. You feel your steps start to falter and you slow down, suddenly feeling an anxiety you hadn't realised was brewing in your chest at the thought of entering the bakery and speaking with the staff. You feel your chest tighten and your breathing become ragged.

Not again.

Looking around, you can't find anywhere private to hide. Although he will be furious, you attempt to call to Rhys, but you're met with a solid, obsidian wall - no doubt in concentration as he prepares for tomorrow's meeting.

You can sense your legs beginning to heat and a jelly-like feeling starts to pass over them. You need to find somewhere to sit, or you will go down in the middle of the street.

Approaching the edge of the Sidra, you drop to the railing, trying to gulp in air but feeling like your lungs are suffocating. You can't get control of your breaths, and your heart is speeding at rapid pace, making everything around you fade in and out of focus. Tears stream down your face and everything hurts.

"Hey, you're safe, you're safe".

A hand gently touches your shoulder, deepening the pressure there once they see you don't flinch away. Grounding you.

"Tell me 5 things you can see".

"The Sidra, the Rainbow, the Book Store, the clouds, my hands".

"Good, now 4 things you can feel".

"The grass, the railing, the wind, the ground, my skirt"

"3 things you can hear".

"The water, the people, you".

"2 things you can smell".

"Coffee and cinnamon".

"1 thing you can taste".

"The pastry I had for breakfast".

You feel the stranger laugh next to you.

"What pastry?"

"It was a custard pastry".

"Was it nice?"

You chuckle. "Yes, it was".

"How are you feeling?"

You check in with yourself, and are surprised to notice that the panic attack has stopped. Your heart is still definitely beating faster than it should be, but you don't feel the impending sense of doom, and your breathing has slowly returned back to normal.

"Better, thank you. How did you do that?"

"My brother has panic attacks sometimes, I use that to help him too".

You look up to lock eyes with the stranger, and kneeling in front of you is the most handsome male you have ever seen. You see a shine flare across his eyes as he studies your face. The male clearly isn't from here. If his red hair wasn't a giveaway, his clothes would have been. Exquisitely embroidered and tailored to fit his body to perfection, it features detailed patterns of flames and red leaves.

The Muse of Autumn. You make a note to share the image with Feyre and ask her to paint him.

"Thank you".

"You're most welcome".

The stranger helps you to your feet, making sure to check you are steady before he lets go of your arms.

"Would you like me to walk you home?".

You consider the offer, but Rhys is already going to be angry if he realises that you left the house by yourself, let alone if your return with a random male in tow.

"I'll be ok, thank you though".

"My pleasure ...?"

"Y/n".

"My pleasure, y/n".

The stranger bows gently to you before walking away towards the coffee shop. As you start to make your way back to the house, bracing yourself for Rhys' fury, you realise you never asked the stranger for his name in return.

[joels-shitty-puns]

The Key To Your Heart - Track 10

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Alluding to sexual scenarios. Kissing. Panic/Anxiety Attack. Fat shaming, name calling. Mentions of food, weight loss, weight gain, dieting, weighing, potential eating disorder, food guilt. Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f). Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: 6.6k

Series List: Here!

Miss Track 9? Here!

Hi!!!! Once again I want to apologize for taking so long with this. I can't seem to ever stay awake to do anything. That being said, here it is! This is the last main chapter of our little lovebirds. There will be at least one, likely two bonus tracks coming soon though :) Also there's a smidge of Spanish in here from Pedro, but the translation is included in the end of the sentence. I took some Spanish classes back in the day but I don't speak it and had to use Google translate. So if it ISN'T right and you do speak Spanish, please let me know lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoy these little cuties on their first date. There's a lot, a lot, a lot of kissing in here (sorry...) and overall they're just grossly in love lol. Please let me know what you think, and if you've seriously read this far, I LOVE YOU! This is my first series, and honestly my first fic other than the one I wrote in my diary lmao. Like the reader, I am incredibly inexperienced so writing a relationship has been a bit of a challenge and half the time I don't believe the actual words I'm writing. But I really only started writing it as a way to write down my daydreams :) So to have support means the world to me, and hearing people comment/DM me saying how much they relate has meant so much and makes me feel a lot less alone, because ultimately, it doesn't matter how fictional it is, most of reader's feelings are my own. To anyone else in the same boat, I get you! Hang in there. I think there's a Pedro out there for us all. Someday. Anywho, pardon my ramble. Thank you for reading, I hope you like it. ❤

The next morning, you woke up and stretched your limbs, rolling over in your comfortable bed as the sunshine poured in through the window. At the shuffling of your body, Skipper groaned, wiggling a little in bed, nearly shoving you off the edge. You reached for your phone, blinking through your sleep a couple times before seeing a text from Pedro. “Good morning beautiful! I can't wait for our date today. I was thinking maybe we could start around 2:30 and spend the day together, if you'd like. But if that's too much, we can just make it a dinner date. Up to you which you would prefer. I understand either way. Love you ❤️”

He wants to spend the whole day with me!? And he sent me a good morning text and called me beautiful? Then signed it with a heart and love you?!!!! How did I get this man?

Your grin eclipsed your face, making you squint. If Mr. Grumpybutt weren't sharing the bed with you, you'd probably squeal and kick your feet. Tapping your phone screen, you typed out a reply. “Morning handsome ❤️ I would love nothing more than to spend the day with you. I love you too!” You sent the message before crawling out of bed gently, receiving a dirty look from Skip. 

“Alright Grump. Go back to bed. Geez,” you laughed. If looks could kill, you thought. He turned back on his side, letting out a grumble and sigh, resulting in a laugh from you. Acts like he pays rent and works 40 hours a week…

You took a relaxing shower, making sure to be all nice and fresh for your date with the man of your dreams. While brushing your teeth, you noticed he had replied. “Great, I can't wait. I'll be at your place at 2:30. :)”

“Can't wait to see you. What do you have planned? I'm wondering how to dress.”

“Wear whatever you feel good in, baby. I'm sure you'll look amazing. Probably something casual you can walk around comfortably in for the day. Maybe something a little dressier for the evening, but you don't need to carry it around. We will make a stop at your place before and you can change”

Wow he really has this planned out.

“What have you got planned, P? This sounds elaborate. You know you don't need to put in all that effort, I'm already yours ❤️”

“You deserve the world, my love.”

Dressed in a pair of leggings and a light sweater, you felt reasonably cute while still being comfortable for whatever activity Pedro had in mind. Plus, with the crisp November air, you would be nice and warm. You were just finishing tying your sneakers when your doorbell rang. 

You opened the door to find your handsome boyfriend standing on your step, a bouquet of red roses in his hand. “Mi amor,” he handed you the roses, kissing your cheek and hand. “Thank you Pedro,” your cheeks heated. “Come in,” you pulled his hand across the doorway towards the living room. Skipper pushed past you to investigate, causing Pedro to drop your hand.

“Well there he is! That handsome boy!” Skipper’s tail wagged and his butt wiggled as Pedro crouched to give ear scratches. “Oh, I love you too,” Pedro answered when Skip kissed his face frantically. A fit of giggles erupted from Pedro, making your heart swell with joy. He has the cutest laugh, and the fact that your dog is causing it was surreal. 

“You're just a beautiful boy! Aren't you?! Hermoso, igual que tu mamá,” he held Skipper’s face, kissing his nose. (Beautiful, just like your mama)

Your chest was filled with butterflies. Holy shit, he's charming. “Thank you, Pedro,” you said in a whisper, not even sure if he would hear. Turning his head from your dog, Pedro looked up at you, giving you a gentle smile; but the eye contact was quickly torn away when Skipper pressed a needy paw to Pedro's chest. Both of you now giggling, Pedro continued to pet Skipper, stopping to give him a hug and some more nose kisses.

“Alright. I gotta ask…” you prompted, causing Pedro to turn his head towards you again. “Are you just dating me to hang out with my dog?” You smirked.

Pedro turned back to Skipper, speaking in a low voice. “She's catching on to us buddy. We've been made.” You burst out laughing, Skipper looking over at you as if his plan really had been foiled.

Pedro gave a final pat on Skipper’s head before standing and walking over to you. “Nonsense,” he pecked a kiss to your lips. “I do love that sweet boy of yours,” he replied before turning his face to whisper in your ear. “But I'm absolutely enamored with you, Mamacita.” The hair on your neck stood as a chill rushed down your spine. You bit your lower lip, and he stared back into your eyes, leaning in for a passionate kiss. 

“You look beautiful,” he tucked your hair behind your ear.

“You look rather handsome, yourself,” you replied. His hair was brushed back and to the side, his curls neatly swept and threatening to break free around his face. You wondered whether he asked for help to make his hair look extra nice for your date or if he styled it himself.

Running your fingertips over his patched salt and pepper beard, your hands found the small heart shaped patches near his chin. You brushed your thumb over his jaw before leaning in to press a kiss on the bare skin, causing his eyes to close as he let out a sigh. The whiskers tickled your cheeks as you continued kissing up his jawline, back across his cheek, and on his nose before pulling away to look into his eyes.

He opted to not wear glasses today, allowing you a closer look into his deep brown eyes which were softening under your gaze. “You ready to go, baby?” He asked you, his hand on your hip as he rubbed circles with his thumb.

“Absolutely,” you smiled. He wore a pair of dark jeans, tennis shoes, and a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearm. He looked absolutely… incredible.

While you were grabbing your bag, he grabbed Skipper's leash. “Is Skipper coming too?” You asked, confused.

Skipper was twirling now, impatient to go somewhere.

“Sure is! Couldn't leave him out. But don't worry, you and I will have the night to ourselves,” he winked.

You looked downward, feeling shy and flushed. “Okay,” you giggled, clipping Skip to his leash and heading for the door.

“Do you want to take my car? You'll get dog hair and slobber in yours,” you offer.

“I don't mind! I love dogs,” Pedro replied, opening the door for Skipper to climb in the back seat. After closing the door, he opened the passenger door for you. Such a gentleman, you thought with a sigh, getting in and thanking him. 

As the car sped along, you looked over at your boyfriend driving the car. Boyfriend! That'll never get old… you thought to yourself. The air conditioning blew the few loose strands of hair on the top of his head, and his left hand gripped the wheel, making the veins on his hand prominent. With his right hand, he reached over, holding your left in his, resting on top of your thigh. 

He really did look beautiful. You couldn't help but stare at him as he expertly drove the car, hand flexing as he turned the wheel. His mouth pursed and he licked his lips, his tongue slowly jutting out to wet them. 

Damn, I want those lips on mine. That tongue in my mouth, you thought, feeling rather warm, despite the air conditioning swirling around the car.

“So where are we spending the day?” You asked, trying to quiet the flames of attraction licking at your pulse.

“It's a surprise! But we're almost there,” he answered, rubbing his thumb over the top of your hand.

Pedro looked in the side mirror and laughed. “Babe, look at Skipper.”

You looked to see him with his head out the window, ears and lips blown back with the wind, his tongue lolled out to the side and blowing with the speed of the vehicle.

You both chuckled before you warned him, “your car is going to be covered in slobbers, Pedro!” He gave another quick look to Skipper before replying. “That's okay. It'll help me remember this day until I wash it again,” he looked over at you and smiled. It felt so natural. So… domestic, the two of you sitting in the car, going on a date, him holding your hand while driving, and the two of you laughing at your dog in the back seat. It was just perfect. Everything you dreamed.

He wasn't joking when he said you were almost there. It was only about five more minutes until the car pulled into the parking lot of the dog-friendly beach. 

Stepping out of the vehicle, you took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar smell of salty sea air and hearing the chatter of gulls. The breeze blew your hair gently, but the day was relatively warm for November.

After the three of you exited the car, Pedro opened the trunk, pulling out a large picnic basket and tote bag. “You really came prepared, didn't you? Pedro, this is really special. Thank you.” Your eyes felt teary and the smile you held was genuine. Nobody has ever put this much effort into anything for you. Other than him.

“You don't need to thank me. I want you to be happy and I want the three of us to have a nice day,” he added, pecking your lips.

“Wait.. Pedro,” you frowned. “It looks kind of crowded. Should I be nervous about paparazzi or anything?” Your stomach bubbled with nervous energy.

“Don't worry, sweetheart. Celebs come here all the time. I've come here before. If they do, they might take pictures, but usually it's pretty low-key here. Try not to worry too much. I want you to have a nice time,” he squeezed your hand affectionately.

“Okay. I trust you,” you smiled at him as the three of you walked towards the sand, finding a nice place to picnic. Pedro unpacked, laying down a large blanket before setting up the spread of sandwiches, veggies, and fruit. He offered you a cold drink from the basket and the two of you sat, using a metal stake to secure Skipper’s leash near your blanket. He flopped onto his side, content to be sunbathing with some of his favorite people.

The lunch consisted of peaceful conversations and laughter, learning more about each other despite having talked for several months now. It seemed you could never run out of conversation topics. But even in the quiet moments, it wasn't uncomfortable. It felt relaxing. You were both content being able to sit together in silence and just enjoy each other's company.

After your meal, you packed up the basket and headed for the car again to put the things away, opting for a walk unburdened by carrying items across the sand. Neither of you brought a swimsuit today, but despite the California sun, it was still November, and the Pacific ocean was never really warm, even in the middle of summer. That didn't seem to bother Skipper very much though. As the two of you walked hand in hand near the water, barefoot in the wet sand, he ran laps around Pedro holding him on the leash, occasionally splashing through the shallow water before joining close by his family again.

He would definitely need a bath later, but you didn't mind. He was happy splashing around, having a great day. You were happy walking with the man of your dreams, fingers intertwined together. Everything felt right. You weren't even nervous, despite the way Pedro looked like the most handsome man you've ever seen, or the fact that he was famous, and that you occasionally received stares from other beach goers. Instead of the usual first-date nerves people get, you just felt love.

“So,” he started excitedly, “Obviously I have most of this date planned, but I also wanted to check in with you and see if you had anything particular in mind that you wanted to do together.”

You thought for a second, letting a memory burn into your thoughts. “Well,” you began, "I don't want to sound like a total creepy fan or anything...” you added, cautiously. You kinda were, with all the photos of him you had saved on your phone (prior to deleting them before your first meeting in person). But that's not important right now, and he probably doesn't need to know that. Maybe it can be a funny story later.

Pedro laughed, that cute little wheezy laugh he does with his giant smile that makes your stomach do somersaults. Those same somersaults you've been getting since you first saw that smile on the screen and knew you were absolutely screwed until you got over this crush. Or, unexpectedly, when you walked hand-in-hand with him, like you were now.

“But…?” he pondered, looking down at you sideways, with a playful smirk and those big brown eyes that could make you lose your mind. They absolutely glittered in the sunlight right now, reflecting all the joy and love he felt for you.

“Okay maybe I'm a little creepy…” you nudged him with your side, still gripping his hand in yours as the two of you walked peacefully. The beach was crowded, but you and him, and Skipper, were the only ones here as far as either of you were concerned. There could be a loud scream and it wouldn't compare to the squealing in your mind. A firework show would simply feel like a projection of your sparks. A tornado couldn't sweep you off your feet as well as he could. 

“Is this where you tell me you've been watching me sleep through my window for the past three years or something?” He raised an eyebrow, playful smile still on his face as he licked his lips.

“What?” You squeaked, laughing. “No. I mean… I did have some pictures saved of you, and have maybe read a fictional story or two about you and your characters…” or a few thousand, you thought.

You cringed. Why the fuck did I say that out loud?!

Your cheeks felt hot and you diverted your eyes away from the man beside you, a nervous grimace painted across your mouth. He barked out a laugh, pulling you into his side for a hug. “Baby, you're cute. I don't mind that you used to read those. I don't even mind if you still do. No different than a book, right? Maybe it'll give us some fun date ideas.” He rested his head on top of yours innocently.

Oh, if only he knew the things you read.

“Right. Fun date ideas,” you smirked to yourself. He pulled away to look at you, eyebrow raising playfully.

“Sweetheart,” he interrogated in the same tone you use when Skipper steals a sock from the laundry, “what kind of stories are you reading about me and my characters, huh?” He lifted your chin to meet his eyes. You'd feel nervous from his tone if he didn't flash a smug, knowing grin at you.

“Oh, you know…” you shrugged. “Just the typical romance stuff,” you turned, facing him and resting your hand on his chest, tracing a circle over his heart with your finger. You felt his pulse pick up under your touch, and saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.

“What kind of thoughts are going through that pretty head of yours?” He asked, raising his brow while you continued tracing little hearts into his shirt with your index finger.

“Wouldn't you like to know?” You winked before removing your hand from his chest. Starting to walk away, you continued your earlier statement. “Anyway, as I was saying-”

“Oh, no you don’t,” he interrupted, laughing. “Don't think you're getting out of this conversation that easy,” he gently pulled your forearm, stopping your movement and sending you twirling into his arms once again.

“Maybe someday I'll tell you,” you giggled, booping his nose. 

“Someday? Why not tell me now?” He ran his thumb over your lip, eyes drifting down quickly before returning to your eyes.

“I'll show you the fanfics I read about you when I know you're stuck with me and you aren't going to run for the hills,” you laughed nervously, only partially joking.

His playful demeanor vanished before your eyes, turning into a look of… concern? Oh no. This is it. Where he realizes what a mistake he made. Where he says he doesn't want to be together. Where he breaks my heart.

He gently held your arm, rubbing soft strokes. “Honey. What are you talking about?” His soft brown eyes searched your face. You gulped, not wanting to make eye contact, but he again pulled your chin up, forcing you to look at him. “I…” you floundered for the words. “I don't want to scare you away.”

“Why would I be scared away?” he asked in almost a whisper, concern and sadness lacing his features.

“Because I just had this huge, huge crush on you. So, I read fanfics and I saved all your photos and I watched all your movies. I spent more time on social media looking for updates on you. Just so I could see you, or imagine what being with you would feel like. Like a total crazy person. An absolute psycho creeper.”

“Baby…” he brushed his thumb over your cheek. “You aren't any of those things. I actually think that’s kind of sweet. Although, it makes me a little sad thinking about the pain you must have felt, having these strong feelings and not having found each other yet.” He brushed your hair out of your face, settling his other hand on your waist before continuing.

“Feelings make us feel a little crazy sometimes, and although I never read fanfiction about you, or had any pictures to save, I would be lying if I said I didn't take a screenshot of us that first night you showed me your face.” He rubbed his neck bashfully.

Fanfic about me? What? If that even exists, I gotta see what people are saying…

“You did?” His admission surprised you, to say the least. He sighed before answering. “Yes. I had - have,” he corrected himself, “a pretty big crush on you too, baby. But I felt like I was betraying you in a way, taking a picture of you during our video chat. I just wanted to remember your face if I never saw it again,” he sighed.

“I fell in love with you the first time I heard your song... I heard you sing about your feelings and daydreams. So… you admitting about fanfiction and pictures isn't all that surprising.” You lowered your eyes in embarrassment.

“Hey, look at me.” He stroked your cheek. You looked up and he continued. “I took that picture because I had already fallen so head-over-heels for you that the first time I saw your face, I stopped breathing. Although I knew I wouldn't be able to get the image of you out of my mind, I couldn't risk forgetting the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life.”

You dropped your gaze again, cheeks feeling a permanent state of warmth and butterflies dancing from your stomach to your chest. “You don't honestly mean that, Pedro.” You sighed. “I appreciate it, but there's no way. I really don't know what you could ever see in someone like me,” you whispered, barely audible. If you weren't standing so close, he would've missed it.

Instead of responding, he dropped his arms from your body. At the loss of contact, your heart sank. But when you lifted your head to meet his eyes, he was fishing around his pocket for his phone. Calling an Uber to leave? Your self-doubt pestered.

A few taps to his screen later and he held up his phone. There you were, sitting at your table in your favorite dress, with your favorite food and flowers on the table. You had the biggest smile on your face and in the bottom corner, you could see Pedro looking handsome as always, and absolutely smitten with you, the largest grin painted across his features.

At the sight of the image, your heart warmed. “See what you mean to me?” He asked, putting his phone back into his pocket. You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I love you,” you choked out, leaning forward to mold your lips to his. They fit together perfectly. Like they were made for each other. He pressed back before opening his mouth ever so slightly to lick at your lips. Matching his movements, your tongues met, dancing a waltz in exploration as he pulled you forward by your lower back, seeming as if trying to get as close as possible somehow.

As the two of you paused for air, he ran his hand further down your back, just barely grazing the dip of your spine where your torso meets your butt. He gave you a look, almost to determine your reaction, asking permission to let his hand continue. When you didn't back away, going as far as pulling him closer around his neck and leaning in for another kiss, he pressed his lips against yours in return and let his hands wander a little further down. When his hand wrapped around the cheek of your ass, you squeaked. This is new… and I like it, you thought. His whole hand fit across your cheek. His huge hands. You whimpered as he gave a squeeze, like he was claiming you as his own.

“I love you too.” He finally responded, pulling out of the kiss to search your eyes. “So tell me… what was this activity you wanted to add to our date? The one you fear makes you sound like a creepy fan?” He let out a small laugh, brushing your nose with his.

“This,” you replied, pressing another kiss.

“Kissing?” He asked, rubbing his thumb over your waist and resting his forehead to yours. “I think we've already been doing that, if I'm not mistaken.” He pecked your lips with his.

“Yes,” you kissed. “Well,” kiss. “Actually,” you pulled away enough to explain. “I read this interview you gave a few years ago about your ideal first date?”

“Yeah?”

“You said something about ‘a date that doesn't feel like a date. And

hopefully by the end, or throughout, very

good kissing.” You said, slightly cautious at your memorization, a bit nervous at the implication of what you're saying.

“Oh, is that what you want?” He flashed his eyes up to look at you, giving a devilish smirk. 

“Well, as someone who hadn't been kissed yet when I read it, I sorta lost my mind over it,” you laughed. “Obviously we've kissed before, but if it were up to me your lips would never leave mine,” you pressed your lips to his again.

“I think we should be able to make that happen,” he leaned in, brushing his nose against yours before pulling you in for another kiss. “Mmmm” you sighed, pulling away from his lips. “Never gets old.” You held his hand in yours, the two of you walking again down the beach.

“So I was thinking,” he began, “since you said you deleted all your photos, and I only have the one, maybe we could make some new photos… together,” the corner of his mouth turned up into a crooked smile. You grinned and nodded excitedly. “Please!”

Pulling out his phone, the two of you took several photos together. Some just smiling, some with Skipper, and your personal favorites, the ones with him kissing you. This will make for a perfect lockscreen, you imagined.

As you approached the edge of a rocky cliffside at the end of the beach, a sea lion barked in the distance. Skipper perked up, tilting his head and letting his ears twitch before returning a “boof.” The two of you laughed, ushering your dog away from making any wild ocean friends, and headed towards the boardwalk.

After grabbing an ice cream at a candy shop, you were so deep in conversation and laughter that you didn't notice the girl off to the side looking nervous. Slowly she walked over. Skipper put up his guard, but as she approached, she gave a kind wave. “Hi… I'm sorry to bother you. I'm a big fan of you both.”

“Us… both?!” You responded, surprised. Pedro shook his head with a laugh before thanking the fan.

“Of course! Your music is amazing! I listen to it on my way home from work everyday. I relate to so many of your songs.”

“Wow, thank you so much. I never expected to be recognized. You're so kind,” you replied honestly.

She asked for a photo with you both, and after obliging, she mentioned before leaving, “by the way, I was following all the news that went down. I just want to say I think it's cute how you guys got together and you make a really cute couple. Okay bye! Thank you again!!” And with that, she scurried away, leaving you to look at Pedro in surprise. “Wow” you replied with a laugh. “I can't believe I'm getting recognized,” you spoke quietly.

“How do you feel about it?” Pedro asked cautiously.

“I feel… okay, so far. This was a nice interaction, and even though people keep looking at us… being able to be out in public with you, to show my face, kiss you, hug you, hold your hand,” you gave his hand a squeeze, “it makes it all worth it.”

“I couldn't agree more,” he looked into your eyes, giving a soft smile. You matched his expression before his face slowly faded into concern. “Do you think work will go okay for you? Now that it's out there?”

You took a deep breath, walking a few more steps with him down the boardwalk before replying. “I don't know. I guess so. Or… I hope so at least. I've had a few of my friends and coworkers message me kind words of encouragement. So at least I'll have some people on my side, even if anyone else has something to say. But really, they shouldn't. They already know me. They knew I liked you,” you leaned into him. “So they should be happy for me if anything. And if not, then… well, they didn't deserve to be my friend anyway,” you shrugged. “But I think I might take some time off to figure out everything, career wise,” you added. Still leaning into his side, Pedro unlatched his fingers from yours, opting to reach his arm around you, giving your shoulder a squeeze and rubbing soft circles into your upper arm.

“Baby,” Pedro began, his voice vibrating through your body as he leaned his head on yours, “I’m so proud of you. Have I told you how strong I think you are?” Your cheeks warmed and you grinned. “Thank you Pedro,” you wrapped your arms around his waist to hug him. “But I don't think I'm that strong. I struggle to open pickle jars just like the rest of us,” you joked.

Pedro gave a quiet snort. “You know what I mean, honey,” he laughed. “I don't mean physical strength. Though I'm sure you could hold your own in an arm wrestle, I mean your ability to handle all of this thrown at you so quickly. Your ability to adapt and stay cheerful about everything. You just keep continuing to amaze me,” he pulled his head away from yours to meet your gaze. He smiled softly and you thanked him.

“I don't feel very strong,” you mumbled, breaking away from his stare. “You are, though. You're strong, smart, beautiful. Talented. Passionate,” he kissed your lips.

“Pedro, I love you, but you always seem to use all these words I don't feel. You see me as someone completely different than the way I've always seen myself. I want to believe you, but-” you sighed. “No one else has ever shown any indication that those are true,” you pouted, trying not to tear up.

“Hey, hey, whoa. Stop,” he halted your movements, pulling your chin up to his face. “Maybe they didn't see you, but I do. I feel all those things about you, and I'll spend every single day trying to prove it. I told myself I wouldn't get involved in romance a long time ago. But you changed all that.”

His chocolate brown eyes felt like they looked directly into your soul as he attempted to unravel your self-doubt. With a deep breath, you calmed enough to reply. “I love you, and I feel all those things for you as well. I'm glad you opened yourself up to love again.” You pressed a kiss to his lips. “I'm glad I met you” you sucked his lip. “I'm glad you're mine.” You kissed him again, deepening it, letting your tongue press gently to his and tangling together in passion before pulling away. 

Skipper had completely rolled into his side in wait for you both, between the conversation and the kissing. When the two of you broke away with matching grins, you looked over to see the sun had sunk down to the border between sky and ocean. In its wake was a bright orange sky, with pink, purple, and yellow streaks mixed in, as if a painter had gotten a bit too carried away with the paints. It was blindingly beautiful. 

Drawn to it like moths, the three of you walked towards the shoreline once again. You started to sit, but Pedro pulled you into his chest and fished for his phone. 

You gave him a confused look before he kissed you deeply and held out his arm. Unlatching his lips from yours with a pop, he held up his phone to you with a smile. In front of the vibrant ocean sunset, the silhouette of a couple shared a loving kiss. For once, it was you in this couple photo. You and the man you love.

You walked a little farther down the sand before sitting down just above the line of wet sand to admire the sunset. Pedro sat behind you, his legs on either side of you while you lay back into his chest. As you leaned into him, he hugged around your body, molding himself to you and tracing light circles into the skin on your arms, making the hairs stand on end and a shiver to run down your spine. 

Skipper flopped down nearby, clearly sleepy after a long walk and plenty of new smells. You ran a gentle hand down his back until you heard soft snores, then let him sleep, leaning your head on Pedro’s arm around your shoulder. “This sunset is beautiful,” you sighed, watching as the sun descended further below the ocean. It looked as if it was sinking deep below the surface, offering its light to the deep sea anglerfish miles below.

“It is amazing,” Pedro agreed, staring at you. “But my view is even better,” he added, and you could feel his eyes on the side of your face as he kissed your shoulder. You looked over at him, meeting his eyes, now sparkling with the orange of the sky. “Mine too,” you whispered, tilting your head to press another kiss to his lips.

When the sun went down completely, you headed to the car and Pedro drove back to your place so you could get ready for dinner. 

Pedro sat on the couch patiently, stroking the fur on Skip’s back while he snoozed, his head in Pedro's lap. In your bedroom, you searched for the perfect outfit to wear, finally deciding on a nice dress and sweater.

Hopefully the restaurant isn't too cold, you thought.

Walking out of the bedroom, you joined your boys in the living room, only to be greeted by Pedro’s jaw hitting the floor. “Te ves tan hermosa mi amor,” he stuttered in Spanish, flipping languages so easily when he was overcome with emotion. (You look so gorgeous my love.)

He gently stood, sliding out from below your dog, before walking over to you. His eyes scanned your body from head to toe and back up again, making you feel nervous. “You… you look… wow.” He rubbed his hand over his chin, his thumb grazing his lip. His pupils grew, making his eyes ever-so-slightly darker. You shivered under his gaze.

At your shiver, his demeanor shifted. “Shit, are you cold? Baby, you look incredible, but if you're cold -” 

“I'm not cold, Pedro,” you interrupted.

“Are you sure? I saw you shiver.” He stepped towards you, touching your arm. A buzz crept under your skin like a live wire. “It wasn't from the cold…” you replied.

“It wasn't from-?” He paused, the realization hitting him as he understood your shiver wasn't from cold but frankly.. the opposite. “Oh,” he hummed, settling his hand on your hip and stepping closer.

Another chill.

“Feeling excited for our date, huh?” His voice caressed into your ear as he kissed his way down your neck, pausing to take gentle nibbles on the skin of your collarbone, neck, and chin, before pulling you in by your waist to press a deep kiss to your mouth, his tongue finding yours. 

This was starting to feel natural, kissing. And you two were getting good at it together. Knowing just the way his tongue moved, finding just the spot to make you whine. You even managed to find a spot of him that made a groan slip from his lips nearly every time. Kissing him was addicting, and you had no intention of kicking the habit.

He pulled away, pulling your lip with his teeth as you let out a slight hiss. “I'd love to do this all night, but I promised you dinner, my love,” he kissed your cheek, his beard scratching your face just right. You sighed, agreeing to dinner and taking a minute step back. It felt much warmer in the room than before, and you could tell he felt the same. As your eyes drifted across his body, he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, clearing his throat. Slowly sweeping his eyes down his body, it was evident you both wanted something beyond dinner.

But the gentleman he is, Pedro stepped forward again, taking your hand and leading you toward the door. 

Pulling up to the curb, Pedro opened your door for you before handing his keys to the valet. Linking his arm with yours, the two of you walked into an elegant Italian restaurant. He gave the waitress his name, and she led you back to a secluded room where a single booth sat.

The room was dimly lit, illuminated by candles and twinkling fairy lights. They lined the ceiling, mimicking the starry sky, were it not for the smog of the city. You two walked toward the only booth, settled against the nook of a window, draped with a soft, thin white curtain covering the view from outside. Only the reflection of street lights peered through the thin drapery.

Sliding into the booth, Pedro sat next to you, close enough to touch, yet due to the curve of the corner booth, you were able to converse without craning your neck awkwardly. At the center of the table was a single red rose in a vase, sat next to the glow of a candle. The table itself was rounded and draped with an elegant dark red tablecloth.

Grabbing the triangular folded napkin off your plate, you folded it across your lap, Pedro doing the same. He reached over to you, taking your hand in his. He rolled his hand over the top of yours, linking his fingers between your own and giving a gentle squeeze while offering a soft smile. 

You looked into his eyes, searching for the words he might be thinking. In his eyes you only found love and appreciation, pure happiness oozing from his features. When the waitress came back, she set a basket of bread with butter on the table and took your orders. 

The night went smoothly, chatter filling the empty spaces while you enjoyed your meals. “Pedro, I know this is technically our first date, but I gotta say, I think I consider our video chat for my album as the first date. It was the first time I felt like I might actually have a shot with you. You put so much effort into that night and it was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me. I didn't know I could fall for you any harder than I was, but you proved me wrong. And even though we didn't say it was a date, and I didn't have much experience before you, it felt more like a date than anything I had ever felt before. You're a real romantic, P.” 

He smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. “That felt like the first date to me too. I knew for sure that I loved you that night.” Your cheeks heated, and you leaned your head on his shoulder. 

It was only when the bill arrived that you broke apart. Though you offered to pay, at least for your meal, Pedro wouldn't stand for that. After all, he told you, this date was his idea. So instead, you thanked him and left the restaurant the same way you entered, arms linked.

As Pedro pulled up outside of your home, you let out a sigh. It was already after 9 PM. You had spent nearly eight hours together and yet you dreaded the moment you'd be saying goodbye. It was almost that time already, yet it felt like only five minutes had passed.

Though the walk from Pedro’s car to your front door was rather short, you both managed to prolong it, walking as slow as possible. Clearly he wasn't ready for it to end either. Two love sick fools, just wanting to spend every moment together.

Teetering on the edge of goodbyes, you awkwardly stood by your door. There were no nerves at a first kiss, fortunately. There had been plenty of kisses shared today, and yesterday, and the day prior. In fact, if it weren't for breathing, eating, and other bodily functions, you'd be fine having your lips glued to his indefinitely.

So with that in mind, and the burning desire to spend more time together, as he said goodbye, placing a kiss to your lips and beginning to walk away, you grabbed his arm. “Wait,” you plead.

Pedro turned, looking at you as if you had something to say, or you had forgotten a sweater in the car. But instead, with your heart pounding in your ears, you quietly asked, “would you like to come in? I’m not quite ready to say goodbye.”

The question could be taken with so many potential implications, or none at all. All you knew for sure was that you wanted to spend more time with him. What happened next could be decided in the moment.

His eyes flashed surprise for a moment. He looked at you, trying to read your face for any details in your question, then stared at your front door before turning back to you and finally answering.

“I would love to,” he smiled.

And so the two of you walked through the threshold of your front door, buzzing with new possibilities just inside. But no matter how the rest of the evening takes place, you were in love, and for once, you were loved back.

The end! Thank you for reading! Stay tuned for the bonus tracks, and once again I'd love to hear what you think! Reblogs are appreciated as well :)

Taglist: (Want in? Let me know!)

@pedrotonin @starcrossed02 @lightupsketchersperson @cartoon-garbage04 @tyferbebe @maryfanson @gwendibleywrites @faithfullyyours2000 @hc-geralt-23 @jenniferpendragon @winchestergypsy90 @red-red-rogue @theendwhereibegin @lottieellz101 @oliversaurus @kyga01 @milly-louise @titabel @taz-97 @stefanibear003 @marantha @fandomoniumflurry @ilovemybrown-eyedbabygirl @leiadjarin @hmneighbors @emmalostinwonderland

[thescarletnargacuga]

PENDULUM Epilogue

A TIME CAPSULE AU ONESHOT CONTINUATION

AU credit: @mangotangerinepastry @the-amazing-digital-time-capsule

A/N: sooooo Mango shared a little tidbit of information I didn't know about her AU. Pomni and Gangle are ROOMMATES... oh no.

WARNING: none, just teasing friends

~~~

Gangle stayed out late hanging out with Ragatha and Kinger. It was nice to have time to just relax with good conversation when they were finally off the clock. Now, she wanted to go to bed. The light to her and Pomni's room was out, so she figured Pomni had gone to bed already.

She quietly opened the door and tip-toed into the room. As she passed Pomni's bed, she did a double take. There were TWO figures in Pomni's bed. In the very faint light of a nightlight on her own nightstand she could make out the unmistakable silhouette of Caine laying next to Pomni. He was fully clothed and on top of her sheets, but they were still holding one another in a comforting embrace.

She held her hands over her mouth to muffle the gasp she involuntarily made. She danced silently in place, freaking out over what she was witnessing. She'd noticed how Pomni and Caine would look at one another, and even how they spoke. It was very obvious to her that they were attracted to one another but couldn't express it thanks to BUBLE's rules.

After her little freak out, she was suddenly stuck with a dilemma. What does she do now? Should she just go to bed and pretend she saw nothing? Should she find somewhere else to sleep? Pomni wouldn't just forget that she sleeps here too, right?

She felt a little awkward going to bed knowing that those two would get up and interact with her in the morning. So, she grabbed a blanket and a pillow and slept in the closet. It was surprisingly comfortable, her spindly body fit easily in the smaller space.

~

Caine woke first, then woke Pomni. They both needed to get ready for work. He stood, stretched and straightened his wrinkled vest.

Pomni got up and started pulling out her performing clothes. "Thank you, for staying with me last night. I really needed you- IT. It... So, thanks." She flustered at her slip, brushing bed head hair out of her eyes.

Caine was better at hiding his fluster from what she said, but it still makes his chest feel fuzzy. "It was my pleasure, Pomni. I'm glad you're feeling a bit better this morning. I've got to run, but I look forward to hearing your performances today. They make my days better."

Pomni gave him a smile, her heart melting.

As Caine was on his way out, in of the corner of his eye, he noticed a second bed in the room. Then a cold Spike of panic hit him. He completely forgot...Gangle sleeps here too. The bed was empty, where was she? Maybe he got lucky and she didn't come back to the room last night. Maybe she stayed with someone else. He walked a bit faster out the door.

Gangle burst from the closet. "I KNEW IT!!"

Pomni let out a short scream, throwing her hairbrush across the room. "AH!! Wha- Gangle!?!? What are you doing in the closet???"

"Uh, because this is my room too?? Did that little detail slip your mind??? Never mind, we're not talking about me! YOU AND CAINE!? HELLO!?"

Pomni went bright pink. "It's not what it looks like! Nothing happened! We just- he- I needed-....ugh." She sighed heavily, facepalming. "I'm sorry, Gangle. I was in such a state yesterday that I didn't consider how you'd feel about me inviting Caine to stay. Were you in the closet all night?"

"Yes, and it was rather cozy. I might do it again. BUT LIKE I SAID, WE'RE NOT TALKING ABOUT ME!! You ACTUALLY invited him to STAY in your BED!? How uncharacteristically reckless of you." Gangle teased. "I don't mind, but give a girl a little warning. I almost had a heart attack when I saw him there last night."

"You- you saw-"

"Mmhm" Gangle's smirk grew. "You two got rather cuddly. It was adorable."

Pomni's pink cheeks darkened. "Please, don't tell anyone. I don't want Caine to get in trouble on my behalf. Not again."

Gangle ran her ribbon hand over her lopsided mouth. "I'm a woman of my word. What happens off the clock, stays off the clock. You better hurry up and get dressed, your boyfriend's waiting for you to play for him." She bounced her eyebrows.

Pomni wanted to scream from embarrassment. "We're not in any kind of relationship. He just...I needed some comfort last night. That's all."

"Uh-huh, and I'm the Queen of England." Gangle sarcastically replied. "Next time you have him over, put a sock or something on the doorknob. I need to know if I should go bunk with Ragatha for the night."

Pomni grabbed a pillow and screeched into it.

[kaynanarie]

JourneyTober! Day 18 - Snake

            A shriek pierced the air, snapping Monkey to high alert. He swirled around, fur bristled and tail lashing as he searched for the threat. Instead, he found Jen frozen behind him, one hand still outstretched where she had thrown her water gourd to the ground.

            Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, Monkey quickly relaxed. He picked up the abused calabash, giving the human a questioning raise of his brow.

            “Is it gone?” Jen squeaked, staring at the gourd like she expected it to attack. 

            Monkey turned it over, only finding a small vine tangled in its wrappings. Tugging it loose, he lifted the broken plant up with a smirk. Jen’s face turned red in realization.

            “I–I thought it was something else,” she stammered, snatching the calabash back. The stare he received from poking the vine against her cheek was unamused. “I’m not scared of a plant.”

            Wiggling the plant again, Monkey hissed, chuckling when the noise made Jen jump.

            “I’m not scared of snakes either.” A disbelieving hum called out her lie. “I’m not! They’re just legless lizards, nothing to be scared of.”

            Monkey’s teasing smile only flustered Jen further. “Let’s just go,” she huffed, stomping past him. He followed behind her, an idea forming as he watched her continue to fume.

            Jen refused to look back, marching along with a strangle hold on her gourd. It was almost worse that Monkey was keeping oddly nonchalant about her little freak out. Suspiciously so. She had little time to ponder her paranoia when she felt something lay on her shoulder and brush teasingly against her ear. Jen glanced over, seeing the tip of Monkey’s furry tail waving at her.

            “Ha ha, very funny.” She brushed the tail away but when she turned, Monkey wasn’t behind her. Then another weight landed on her opposite side. “Whatever game you’re playing–”

            The words choked off at the sight of a little garter snake perched on her shoulder. Panic jolted through her body, limbs flailing in an uncoordinated escape attempt. The snake only wrapped itself around her arm, calmly refusing to be dislodged. Jen’s clumsy steps tangled her feet together and sent her tumbling to the ground.

            Her view of the sky was blocked out by the snake glancing down at her. With the initial fear passing, Jen could almost recognize the smirk on its scaly little face.

            “Monkey?” the snake hissed a laugh, its tongue darting out to flick her nose. She groaned, flopping back on the dirt as the last spikes of adrenaline tingled through her fingers and toes. “You’re a menace. I’m going to have a heart attack and it’s going to be your fault.”

            A puff of smoke clouded her vision as Monkey reappeared from the haze. He was still chuckling but offered a hand up, his eyes holding a mirthful apology. Jen rolled her eyes but took it anyways. Her face flushed red from embarrassment while he helped brush the dust from her clothes and hair.

            “One of these days, I’ll figure out what scares you and get you back,” she warned but Monkey only shook his head. “Everyone’s afraid of something.” Another smug denial. With a barely-there grin and a cheerful swish of his tail, Monkey sauntered down the path, Jen keeping a careful eye on him the rest of the day.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------(You ever feel like no matter how hard you try, it's just not good enough? It's been a rough week so something silly for today. Really hitting the 'everyone is more talented' slump. Big thanks to everyone that reads and leaves comments, they always make my day and make it feel worthwhile.)

[bbanghiitomi]

| little miss tragic girl

synopsis: hanni consults an open forum to ask for help in dealing with anxiety and meets the love of her life.

— nonidol!phanni × nonidol!fem!reader

Ꮚ⁠˘⁠ ⁠ꈊ⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠ᏊᏊ⁠˘⁠ ⁠ꈊ⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠ᏊᏊ⁠˘⁠ ⁠ꈊ⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠ᏊᏊ⁠˘⁠ ⁠ꈊ⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠Ꮚ

open forum.com: panic attacks/anxiety

spam_honeybunch04 • 2hrs ago

hi guys, i've been dealing with panic attacks and anxiety for quite a long time and it's getting worse recently. i haven't been able to tell anybody about it, i'm scared they won't believe me. is there any tips you guys can suggest for when i have anxiety and panic attacks?

replies:

thegreateinstein • 1hr ago

hey miss, if ur seeing this, i suggest you don't keep those all to yourself. bottling up those problems and refusing to reach out is not good. i'm worried. but i have a suggestion that works always for my nephew. you can do the 3 3 3 rule + breathing.

try to focus on breathing first, then count if you can. look around you then identify 3 objects, 3 sounds that you can hear and then move 3 body parts. i can guarantee it works, i always use that when my 10 yrs old nephew gets panic attacks.

spam_honeybunch04 replied.

thanks for the advice, and i understand it's bad if i keep it to myself but i am still trying to find the right moment to reach out.

thegreateinstein replied.

don't worry, everything's gonna be alright. i promise, if you need help you can always reach out to me. hugs! (⁠つ⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)⁠つ

spam_honeybunch04 replied.

thank you so much (⁠っ⁠˘̩⁠╭⁠╮⁠˘̩⁠)⁠っ!!

hanni walks inside their classroom, with her bag on her shoulder. hanni's feet felt lightweight, she calculates every step she takes in order to calm herself. today is another one of those days. classes are extreme, from 2pm to 8pm with two hours vacant. hanni needed to take deep breaths while walking to her seat, she tried to brush all of it away but just taking deep breaths isn't enough.

hanni's shoulder felt heavy, it's like she's carrying the burden of the world on her shoulders — too much for her small figure to manage. when she took a seat, hanni tried her best not to slump her shoulders and let out a deep sigh.

she haven't been able to get enough sleep, with college beating her down and then her panic attacks inside her dorm. it's so hard, but lately — after her inquiry on the open forum website, she's been able to manage her panic attacks better than before.

all thanks to user thegreateinstein.

hanni felt relieved she had met someone like them in a forum full of assholes. honestly, she didn't think she'd get a decent answer but luckily someone smart was able to give her a good response. hanni kept thinking about thegreateinstein, their sheer intelligence, proven by their witty and helpful answers on the site.

hanni had been lucky to encounter such a human.

"hey, y/n! let's visit the internet cafe later, i'm gonna show you the new legendary skin i got." hanni heard a voice from somewhere, the call of your name and the familiar topic of video games — she's gotten used to your conversations with your friend about the rpg game that's currently the most popular thing in today's generation. as her seatmate, hanni had taught herself not to mind you and your friend's business.

you walked past hanni, then sat next to her, your eyes fixed on the person across the long table.

"already? wasn't the skin released like a few days ago?" you asked, pushing your specs up your nose bridge. hanni looks at you, then to your friend — then back to her laptop she placed on the shared table.

"i know! i checked the stats and it's o-p!" jayoon, your friend enthusiastically claimed. you laughed. hanni liked that, fighting the urge to smile. "oh really? you know it's gonna get nerfed right? that's what they always do, release o-p skins then nerf them on the next update."

hanni has not had much of a recollection of when she started liking you, she doesn't remember much but one day, you looked at her and smiled, then her world started revolving around you.

jayoon grimaced and pushed your shoulder as she propped her upper body on the wooden surface. "dude, just check it out! maybe help me build my main later, i'll send you coins."

after classes, you sat next to jayoon inside the internet cafe, your eyes reading the line of sentences on the screen. jayoon is busy playing on her pc. opening the game once again, you clicked your character icon and took a screenshot of it — exited the game to the open forum site and started typing away.

open forum.com: video game (rpg)

thegreateinstein • 30mins ago

does anyone here play RAN online?

[insert picture]

i have 1,000 worth of gemstones here. i play f2p on this account and was wondering if i could put these gems to good use.

replies:

kimmingki_04 • 3mins ago

broooo that's some good stuff there, you can use those gems to purchase level ups for your character! u sure you're f2p?

thegreateinstein replied.

yeah dude, i am. i got two accounts, one f2p and one for whaling. btw thanks, i'll use these to purchase level ups.

kittykangfroggy • 10mins ago

that's insane for f2p, you only have few skins too and your build is insane Ó⁠╭⁠╮⁠Ò

thegreateinstein replied.

yah, i barely touched my coins there and i got more free coins from friends.

you pulled your glasses away and rubbed your eyes. "hey, look y/n! this artifact i got is crazy." jayoon tapped your back. pushing the swivel gaming chair, you scoot closer to jayoon. you wore your glasses back and looked at her screen. "keep that, that's for crit rate." you pointed at the screen as you spoke, jayoon gave you a thumbs up and rolled back to your pc.

you got an email on your account and opened it to a message from spam_honeybunch04.

spam_honeybunch04:

hey, thanks for your advice.

it helped me.

you smiled, feeling the red painting your cheeks.

thegreateinstein:

that's great, glad it helped you.

you can always ask if you need help, some people will surely reach out to you.

spam_honeybunch04:

(⁠っ⁠.⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠っ

i wish i can help you with your questions too

(⁠;⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠)

thegreateinstein:

ey, it's fine.

it's just about a nerdy game.

you want to ask more questions?

go on.

spam_honeybunch04:

what do you do when you're sad?

you paused, darting your eyes everywhere, tapping your fingers on the surface below the keyboard.

what do i do when i'm sad?

i don't really know.

thegreateinstein:

anything,

i have no specific answers really

but i play guitar, listen to music and read books

why?

are you sad?

spam_honeybunch04:

yes, most of the time.

i'm lonely here in my dorm,

and i get stressed about college

thegreateinstein:

that's valid,

i think we all get stressed in college

pressure and stuff

i get lonely too sometimes

spam_honeybunch04:

do you like someone?

you do like someone.

thegreateinstein:

yeah, i do

i like this girl in my block

she's cute and nice

but she's quiet most of the time

spam_honeybunch04:

i do too,

same block too.

she's smart and funny.

i get nervous around her and stuff

thegreateinstein:

anxiety?

spam_honeybunch04:

yeah,

i don't think she knows

i can't find the courage to ask her out

thegreateinstein:

don't worry, i feel the same

i don't think she likes me

you know?

she's so pretty, lots of boys like her too

but i want to ask her out

spam _honeybunch04:

you won't lose anything if you try.

you watched as hanni entered inside the room, she's dressed so nice today, everyday. you like her black, long, and silky hair, this time it's tied into two pigtails, decorated with butterfly clips of different colors.

you looked down to the table, eyes darting at the scattered notes on your desk.

hanni sits beside you, placing her bag on the table. her attention immediately diverted to a guy standing by the door of the classroom. "hey hanni, i think that guy wants to ask you out." a blockmate pointed out, hanni smiled at them and stood up to approach the guy.

you watched as they converse, smiles plastered on their faces.

open forum.com: dating/relationships

thegreateinstein • 3hrs ago

how should i ask a girl out? simply telling them sounds lame, i want it to be more sincere. any ideas?

replies:

morethanmodani • 2hrs ago

oh naurrr! there's nothing wrong about just asking them out, face to face is the best way. as long as you're sincere with your feelings and you really want that girl then go for it!

thegreateinstein replied.

a lot of guys are asking her out too, how do i stand out from them?

morethanmodani repied.

do the things they don't do! check the patterns of those boys and do better! see more…

kimmingki_04 • 56mins ago

use sweet words bro, ask her out in an intimate place where it's only the two of you!

you received a message from spam_honeybunch04.

spam_honeybunch04:

i saw your post.

you're asking her out now?

thegreateinstein:

yeah, idk how.

there's an upcoming party for the year end. i want to ask her out that same night.

spam_honeybunch04:

oh right,

it's the year end season,

we also have a party.

why not by the end of the party?

thegreateinstein:

i thought of that too.

how about you?

spam_honeybunch04:

still not ready, lol.

thegreateinstein:

that's alright, hope you find the courage.

what should i tell her?

spam_honeybunch04:

idk, your feelings i guess.

how much you like her,

what she means to you.

then ask if her heart's available for love.

you stood in the middle of a crowd, there were a lot of students surrounding you inside the gymnasium court of your school, the stench of alcohol, body odor, and cologne wafted around you.

disgusting.

it made you sick, but your eyes are set on the shorter girl walking amongst the crowd. hanni wore a hoodie, zipped open but not wide, she wore a tank top inside, shorts, below the knees socks and nike dunk low. her hair is styled, flowing gently on her shoulders.

you followed her as she made her way inside the restroom, pushing through unfamiliar faces of students you don't care about. your head hangs low, your specs are tainted, moist by the sweat from the heat.

you needed air, and so did hanni.

when you got inside, all the stalls were open except for one, you can hear sobs and sniffles echoing. hanni's crying and carefully made your way to her stall.

open forum.com: panic attacks/anxiety

thegreateinstein • 20mins ago

hey guys, how do i comfort a girl crying inside a restroom stall in the middle of a party? i think she's having a hard time.

open forum.com: panic attacks/anxiety

spam_honeybunch04 • 25mins ago

i'm currently in the middle of a party, can't go home yet… having a panic attack. how do i deal with this?

sadly, you weren't able to see her post, neither did she with yours.

you approached the door and knocked. "miss? hanni? are you there?" you hear her sniffles, you can feel her breathing being unsteady, the way she sobbed hard. "hey, hanni. please answer." you leaned on the door. hanni had her hand clutching her chest, nails digging the cloth under her palm.

"y-yeah…" she answered. you pushed yourself off of the door, and looked up. "do you mind if you open the door? do you need help? i'm here." you told her, the music outside is muffled by the tiled walls, yet it rang inside hanni's head.

you can tell she's hesitant.

"i'm the only one here." you assured her. hanni felt her heart tightened, she couldn't breathe. reaching for the lock with her shaking hands, she pushed the door open and her eyes met yours, you can see the tear stains on her face. you frowned and let the girl reach for your frame, arms wrapping themselves to your torso.

you placed your hands on the top of her head and her back, gently rubbing her back as you rocked her — the same method you do to your nephew. "shh…" you whispered, pulling her close. you feel her bury her head on your shoulders, sobbing. "hey, what happened?" you asked.

"i — don't know, i just don't want to be here anymore."

you nodded. "hey, hey, hey hanni… breathe through your nose, gently, as slow as possible. deep. breaths." you whispered, as close as you can to her ears. you can feel her breathing, after a few minutes it becomes steady. "count to 10 okay?"

hanni nodded.

"1…"

"2…"

"3… 4…"

you started counting with her.

"5…" a gentle pat on her back.

"6… 7…"

hanni sobs.

"8… 9…"

"it's okay." you whispered.

"10…"

you wait for a minute before you continue.

"can you look around, give me 3 objects you can see."

hanni blinks. "a tissue holder."

"uh-huh."

"faucet… and your watch."

you smiled at her.

"3 things you can hear, hanni."

hanni nodded. "alright, the music outside. then, your voice…"

"and?"

hanni looked up at you. "your heartbeat."

you meet her gaze.

"does that count?" you chuckled, hanni laughed. "i don't know, but it's loud enough for me to hear." she replied.

"last, move 3 body parts of yours." hanni nodded, her feet stepping forward, her fingers trailed over your arms and hanni leaned her head on your chest.

you looked up and sighed. "you're so strong hanni." you told her, hanni smiled when her eyes saw your smile.

"you are stronger than me."

you shook your head and looked at her. "nah, it's you who faced everything. it's your battle and you fought very well. i'm here to help you, always. if you want i'll take you back to your place."

hanni looked down and chuckled. "it's too far from here—"

"it's alright, car. i have a car, you'll be safe inside your place."

hanni will forever be thankful for your existence, your smile when you dropped her off her dorm, your eyes when you looked at her.

she liked you before but now —

she's fallen in love, but this time she will never forget how.

spam_honeybunch04:

thank you

(⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

i love you.

open forum.com: dating/relationships

thegreateinstein • 2hrs ago

what is the best idea for a first date?

replies:

gracelee.008 • 23mins ago

weren't you just about to ask a girl out? lol you're so fast!!!!

[darkbluekies]

King Edmund asks #2

Previous one

Concept: I've put multiple asks into one post to avoid too much loose posts on my account! This way, you have more to read too<3

Warnings: yandere

Hey there^^ I wanted to say that I’m sooo in love with your blog🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️ Thanks for the hard work^^ I had a question about king Edmund. What if Edmund took darling to the meeting and he tried to convince the other king to give him recourses. But that king refuses and Edmund’s about to loose. And that’s the moment when darling joins the conversation and after some time the other king agrees(basically his darling knows politics and really smart).

[Thank you so much<3]

To be fair, this is a time where it isn't appropriate for women to be interested in politics, so he'd be shocked that you know so much. He'd also be a bit worried. If you're smart, that means that you'll stand against him easier. He'd rather have you cute and dumb.

"My love ... what are you doing? I mean ... thank you for saving me, but what the hell? How do you ...? Why do you ...?"

i was listening to music today and i realised that the song ‘The masochism tango’ by Tom Lehre reminds me sm of Edmund

I listened to it, I can see Edmund listening to it!!

What would yandere king do if he woke up in the morning to us gone again. He might panic and be mad again but it just turns out the reader was in the restroom

"Ah, you son of a bitch, Y/N, giving me a fucking heart attack at eight am! You better come back into bed and make up for that! What if my heart would have stopped, hm? The king could have died!"

It's no secret that Edmund is now.....not a favorite among the people, especially after the conflagration he arranged in the village. And for sure, some relatives of his devoted guardians ended their lives in the most painful way, this circumstance was the last cup of patience, but what darling takes advantage of this and plays the cards so that the hated king falls off the throne into the slums, thereby bringing justice to the people and yourself?

He will never let that happen. He refuses to let anyone take the power away from him. But if it does happen, he will get his revenge on you. You won't be leaving him whatever happens. So, would you rather be locked in him in a big castle where all of your needs are met ... or chained together with him in a ditch somewhere?

I would enjoy living in lavish paradise with Edmund but wouldn't want kids unless there furbabys/dogs/cats would Edmund be fine with this?

I mean ... he wouldn't have too much of a problem with it, but the country would. You need an heir. Edmund would try to convince you to have one ... even if you've made up your mind.

"We don't have to care for it", he says. "We can just birthed it and let maids take care of it. My parents did that to me and it worked."

You take one look at him and shake your head. "Over my dead body. I don't need another one of you."

"And what's that supposed to mean-"

When I think of the Edmund five I think of a Marie Antoinette vibe I really liked that time period.Most likely because of the indie movie I really liked that movie what do you think?

Hm, interesting thinking, i can see what you mean. For me it's more of a fairytale thing, like medeveal (?) but not at the same time? His timeline is quite timeless.

hi i want to tell you about this random thought I had, but what if edmund's darling was a noble and his fiance right from the start? what would change between their relationship?? and would it make a difference if the fiance only feel obligated and complied to care about him cuz of the arranged marriage?? thank you and have a great day/night‼️‼️‼️

He'd be more than thrilled because he wouldn't have to create that blood bath he planned, but his violence wouldn't end. He is a young man needing that spark in his life. For him, it wouldn't really matter why you were nice to him, as long as you were.

What would Edmund do if we don't like being pampered? As in like we don't want to wear jewelry or fancy clothes we just want to wear comfy clothes also we'd start crying and begging not to wear fancy clothes if he forced us

He'll try to pursuade you since his reputation is a big deal for him, but when your eyes become so red and puffy with tears and you can barely breathe, he'll give up. He'll embrace you, whispering that you won't have to wear the clothes often. Only on important events. His heart will ache at the feeling of your trembling body in his arms, but he knows that he can't give in too much, he's still a king who has his rules.

"Don't cry, my queen, everything has a solution. We just have to compromise. Wipe those tears and sit down in my lap so we can talk."

Edmund - *kills hundreds* Reader - >:( Edmund - I Uh- I love you? Reader - >:( *angrily happy*

aww haha itll be like that sometimes

——————————————————

Edmunds (or however you spell it) better gimme attention now or I'ma throw a tantrum.

Oh, don't you worry, his eyes are all on you. You have all the attention he can give a person. Now spin around and dance with him.

[gaysindistress]

This is self indulgent and I don’t care.

Enjoy my pain:

Panic attacks; racing heart beats,breathing too fast, the feeling of drowning but you can’t swim any longer, and the fear. The symptoms of anxiety are not new to him but nonetheless they take him by surprise.

He calls me every time. Whether on purpose or not, he calls me every time they sneak up. He tries to tell me that they’re getting better but I can hear the shallowness and breathlessness in his voice. He tries to chuckle to cover it but i hear it every time.

“Hey.”

I smile to myself as I hear his voice crackle through the phone, “hi, bubba.”

“How..how are you?”

He’s trying so hard to make normal conversation regardless of the fact that it’s 6 am and we both know he’s been up for hours.

“I’m good, how are you?”

Hesitation is never a good sign.

“I…well,” he starts before stopping to let out a shaky breath, “I’m out front.”

“I’ll be there in a second,” I tell him but don’t hang up. When he’s like this any time alone gives him too opportunities to overthink and spiral. I don’t talk but hearing me moving around and breath is enough until he can see me.

Only when I open the door and am able to see him do I end the call.

“Hi,” he says with an awkward small smile.

“Hi,” I repeat as I step back and allow him to come in. He pushes off his hood and takes off his running shoes, evidence that he tried to run from his anxiety but wasn’t successful. I watch him and offer out my hand when he straightens back up.

Bucky glances down at my hand and then to my face, waiting for me to back away or otherwise reject him. This is another thing he does every time; he gives me the chance to take back my open arms and unconditional support.

I wiggle my fingers at him as a gentle “come on” and he reaches for it with his metal hand but pauses. I imagine if he could, he would never touch me with it out of fear that he will hurt me. I also imagine that he wants nothing more than to be able to embrace me without restraints so I take his hand before he can pull away.

I grip the freezing metal hand in my own two and pretend to blow on it to warm it up. He lets out a half hearted chuckle, “what are you doing?”

“Warming you up. You’re freezing,” I state as if it’s the obvious thing in the world and that seems to release some of the tension in his shoulders.

“Today we’re buying you more layers,” I tell him as I lead him towards my room, “if you’re going to go out in the literal snow, you will be wearing a sufficient amount of layers.”

He laughs again and this time it’s more genuine than before.

We both slide under the worn and loved covers on my bed, lying so that we facing one another.

“I love you,” I whisper to him as I trace the lines of his face. It’s an unspoken understanding between us that he doesn’t have to say it back. He shows it in the ways he chooses and words is not his favored method.

“I am safe,” I start and he repeats.

“I am free.”

“I am grounded, centered, and stable.”

“I am supported.”

“I have the power to control my emotions.”

“I choose to think positive thoughts.”

“I am strong, resilient, and capable.”

“I am not my past.”

“I am loved.”

“I am worthy.”

“I belong here.”

“I have the power to choose my future.”

“I free myself from the fear of the unknown.”

“I am safe.”

“I am free.”

“What Im feeling is temporary.”

“I choose peace.”

“I am not my past.”

“I am loved.”

“I am free.”

“I am the most handsome man in the world and I have the most amazing friend ever,” I sneak in there but he catches it and laughs with his entire body. It rumbles through his chest and lightly shakes the bed, vibrating through me too.

My own smile turns into a fit of laughter and we’re both breathless from our joy as we try to catch our breath.

“Thank you,” he whispers when he able to speak and scoots closer to me.

“Bubba,” I say as sadness clutches at my heart, “I’ve told you a thousand times that you don’t need to thank me.”

While no words come out, his eyes say it all; he needs to because otherwise he’ll feel like he’s taking advantage of me.

I press a kiss to the knuckles on his left hand and nod for him to turn over. He does and I slide one arm under his head to play with his hair while the other slips under his left arm. With my arm across his chest, I lace our fingers together and hold him tightly against my body as his relaxes.

We stay like this as he finds comfort in my touch and allows himself to be cared for. I continue to run my fingers through his hair and twist the short strands long after his breathing has become heavy and rhythmic. I keep my tight hold long after his has loosened and sleep has taken him.

I refuse to stop loving him even if he wouldn’t know.

I refuse to stop because I know he wouldn’t.

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

I saw your call for soft prompts for the Batch bois! If you're up to it, I'd like to humbly submit:

"Thank you for getting me through this" and/or "I'm here for you. Today, tomorrow and every day after."

with Echo? I'm just so soft for that man, and he deserves all the softness.

Thank you so much for the request, lovely! I really enjoyed writing this - goodness, Echo deserves the entire galaxy 🥰

Hope it's okay! <3

Chasing Away the Nightmares

Although Echo is integrating into life with the Bad Batch, and is getting used to his new body, sometimes the nightmares come back to haunt him. Thankfully, you’re there to help him through them.

Pairing: Echo x f!reader (platonic, but squint and you could see it as the start of something romantic).

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Echo still has nightmares about the Citadel and Skako, a little whump, panic attack (Echo), lots of reassurance and comfort, softness, sharing a bunk.

The hum of hyperspace reverberated around the Marauder, the blue glow filling the cockpit as you chucked another card down onto the growing pile on top of Gonky, shifting to get more comfortable in Wrecker’s lap.

With only four seats in the cockpit, you’d had to pick a lap to perch on while you, Wrecker, Tech, Hunter, and Crosshair indulged in a few card games. It was one of the many ways you wound down together as a squad after a stressful mission.

Echo had excused himself, stifling a yawn as he retreated to the bunks shortly after you boarded the ship. Part of you had wanted to insist he join in, to continue building on the relationships you were all forming with him, but you knew he was still adapting to life with you and the boys.

He’d made so much progress already, rolling with the unconventional methods you all used and the chaos of life outside of a standard legion, but sometimes you could see the strain on his face. You couldn’t imagine what he was going through and everything he’d already been through. As the liaison between the Batch and Command, you’d asked for any help available for Echo but had frustratingly come up empty-handed.

“Kriff,” Wrecker muttered as he drew a fresh card, scowling at his hand. Although perched on his lap, you kept your gaze averted, not wanting to cheat. He tossed one of his other cards onto the pile.

As Hunter reached out to snag a card, he paused, head tilting towards the closed cockpit doors. It was an unspoken rule onboard that the cockpit doors were shut when it was occupied during hyperspace travel, giving those resting some peace.

“Again?” You asked quietly, brows furrowing as you tilted your head towards the doors, eyes darting towards Hunter.

He gave a slight nod, letting out a weary sigh. Echo had been battling nightmares for a while now, and Hunter’s keen senses had alerted him to each one. Every time he tried to approach the ARC Trooper, to encourage him to open up and share his troubles, his concerns were brushed aside.

“I got it. Keep playing.” You insist, sliding from Wrecker’s lap and tucking your cards into your pants pocket. You weren’t sure if Echo would open up to you, but it was worth a shot.

Moving across the cockpit, you slipped into the rest of the ship. It was much darker away from the hyperspace lights, and it took your eyes a second to adjust. Heading towards the bunks, you spotted Echo on a bottom one, lost in sleep though it appeared far from restful. He’d pulled the flimsy blanket up around him, hiding beneath it.

Gently, you touched his shoulder, attempting to wake him without startling him. “Echo.” You whispered concern in your voice.

Echo startled as his eyes opened, heart hammering in his chest at your unexpected presence. “W-What?”

You could see the tension in his features, the remnants of whatever haunted his dreams. “Nightmare again?” You asked softly, sitting down on the edge of the bunk. Echo hesitated, then nodded, not meeting your gaze. You decided to give him space, shifting further down the bunk. “You don’t have to go through it alone, you know. We’re a team, Echo.”

He sighed, finally looking at you with a smidge of uncertainty. Opening up wasn’t easy for him. “I appreciate it, but I can handle it.” He replied, though his eyes told a different story.

“You don’t always have to be the soldier, Echo. We’re more than just a squad; we’re a family.” You reassured him. “I might not be one of your brothers, but if you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

Echo hesitated, his gaze softening as he studied your face. The weight of his struggles lifted a little, if only for a moment. “Thanks.” He said quietly, a hint of gratitude in his voice. “It’s just...hard to get used to. Being alive and all that. Not…trapped in my mind anymore.”

You nodded understandingly. “We all have our battles, Echo. The difference is you don’t have to fight them alone.” Leaning back against the bunk, you let the ship's quiet envelop you both for a moment.

After a pause, Echo spoke again, his voice softer. “I never expected this. I still don’t feel like I fit in, but I guess none of you do either.” He gave a wry smile.

A soft chuckle escaped you. “Sometimes it’s more fun to be the odd ones out. You’re one of us now. We’ve got your back.” Not wanting to overstay your welcome and risk making things awkward, you stood, reaching down to gently squeeze his shoulder. He was still getting used to his new body and still recoiled at times from touch, but the grateful smile he shot you as your hand met his shoulder told you it was welcomed.

Touched by your words, Echo reached up to place his hand over yours, giving it a small squeeze. “Thanks for checking on me.”

“Anytime. And if those nightmares ever get too much, don’t hesitate to come to me.” You reassure him, letting go of his shoulder as he nods.

Heading back to the cockpit, the door slid shut behind you, leaving Echo in the dimly lit bunks with a newfound warmth in his chest.

A few hours later, Echo’s breathing quickened as he was pulled from the depths of his dreams again, the weight of his nightmares clinging to him like a suffocating cloak. His eyes shot open, wide and panicked, scanning the dimly lit bunk area. The hum of the ship’s engines and the occasional creaks and groans seemed to amplify, closing in on him.

He sat up abruptly, the tangled sheets slipping from his body as cold sweat coated his skin. The memories of the nightmares still lingered, haunting him. His hand trembled, reaching up to press against his forehead, attempting to ground himself in the present.

Echo’s gaze darted around the room; the shadows seemed to twist and dance, distorting reality. The bunk felt confining, the walls closing in on him. The air in his lungs felt thin, and each breath came in short, ragged gasps.

Attempting to escape the suffocating grip of panic, Echo swung his legs over the side of the bunk, metal feet hitting the durasteel floor. The ship’s low lighting cast eerie shadows, and the rhythmic thud of his own heartbeat pulsed in his ears.

The memories of the war, the experiments, the pain—all of it rushed back, overwhelming him. The line between past and present blurred, and the present moment felt like an illusion. Echo’s chest tightened, his breaths becoming shallower. He tried to shake off the intrusive thoughts, but they clung to him like a relentless swarm. The world around him seemed to spin, the walls closing in further, trapping him in a claustrophobic nightmare.

The sound of your reassuring and caring voice resonated in his mind. Forcing himself to his feet, he took unsteady steps through the ship.

You were losing another round of cards when Hunter’s head snapped towards the cockpit door again. In a flash, you were up and off Crosshair’s lap – having migrated into the sniper's lap to give Wrecker a break – and were slipping out of the doors.

The sight that greeted you broke your heart. Sweet Echo, clutching at one of the jump seats, body trembling, desperately gasping for air. Instinct drove you forward, moving to support his weight and guide him into one of the seats. You’d dealt with plenty of panic attacks during your time with the boys – Hunter when his senses overwhelmed him, once when a flashbang had temporarily robbed Crosshair of his vision, and again with Wrecker after the accident that had left him scarred. You’d had a few yourself with the stunts your boys pulled.

Seeing you helped, and as Echo sat in one of the seats, he fought to regain control. Each breath was a struggle, but he found the longer he held your gaze the easier the vice around his chest became.

You crouched in front of him placing a steadying hand on his knee, not caring a jot that your palm met metal instead of flesh. “Hey, Echo. Keep your eyes on me.” You urged gently, your voice a soothing balm amid his turmoil. “Focus on your breathing. In and out, okay? You’re safe here.”

Echo’s eyes, still wide with panic, stayed locked on yours, and he clung to the lifeline you were offering. With each measured breath, the tension in his shoulders began to ease. The rhythmic hum of the ship became a grounding force, a reminder that he was here, in the present, surrounded by those who cared for him.

“Good, Echo. Just like that.” You encouraged, the reassuring smile you wore offering a comforting warmth. The panic began to recede, and Echo’s breathing gradually steadied. The haunted look in his eyes softened, replaced by a mix of vulnerability and gratitude.

“Thanks.” He whispered, voice hoarse from the strain. “I... I don’t know what happened. It just... everything got overwhelming.”

“It’s okay, Echo. Panic attacks happen.” You reassured him, squeezing his knee even though he wouldn’t feel it, and the metal didn’t yield beneath your hand. “Sometimes our minds play tricks on us, especially after everything you’ve been through.”

He nodded, still catching his breath. “I thought I was past this. I thought I could handle it.”

“Healing is a process. It isn’t linear.” You reminded him. “And you’re not expected to have it all figured out.”

Echo let out a shaky sigh, finally allowing himself to relax into the seat. The residue of panic began to lift, and embarrassment coloured his cheeks. “I appreciate it. I’m sorry for causing a scene.”

“No need to apologize. I’m glad you were coming to get me.” You assure him.

Echo nodded, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The camaraderie of the squad was sinking in, slowly but surely. He wasn’t alone anymore; he wasn’t trapped in that stasis chamber lost in his mind.

“Come on.” You said, standing up. “Let’s grab a few more hours of rest.” You offered your hand to help him stand, deciding to stay with him for the remainder of the journey back to Kamino. The boys could continue their game in the cockpit without you.

Echo hesitates for a moment, then accepts your hand. Fingers interlocked with yours, you lead him back to the bunks. The ship’s hum seemed quieter now, more of a lullaby than a disorienting noise.

As you reach the bunks, Echo pauses, glancing at the bottom bed where he’d tried to find solace in sleep. “I don’t want to go back to the nightmares.” He admits, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

You nod, understanding his reluctance. “You don’t have to. How about you bunk with me for the rest of the trip? We can keep each other company. It might help.”

Echo hesitates. On one hand he knows your presence will significantly help him – and what man wouldn’t want to share a bunk with a pretty woman? – but on the other… “I don’t want to accidentally hurt you.” He murmurs, lifting his scomp and glancing down at his legs. “I’m not exactly the most…comfortable anymore.”

You squeeze his hand reassuringly, giving him a knowing smile. “Echo, you won’t hurt me. I’m not as delicate as I might look.”

A small smirk tugs at Echo’s lips as he glances at you, appreciating the humour in your words. “Okay. I’ll take you up on that offer.”

With a gentle tug, you lead him to your bunk, the dim lighting creating a cosy atmosphere. The two of you settle in, finding a comfortable position. As Echo lies down, you scoot beside him, propping yourself up on one elbow.

“Thank you for getting me through this,” Echo says sincerely, his eyes meeting yours.

You hold his gaze, pleased he'd found a modicum of comfort with you. “I’m here for you. Today, tomorrow, and every day after.”

Gratitude and acceptance reflect in his eyes, and in the peacefulness of the bunk, you curl together. As sleep gradually claims you both, the nightmares seem to fade, replaced by the warmth of each other’s company.

[noonajoe]

Hug Healer (Tsukishima Kei x Reader)

"So, another hug for tonight?"

Genres: Nightmares, angst to fluff, anxiety, Tsukishima is soft

Characters: Tsukishima Kei x Reader

Word Count: 583

©noonajoe (Published on 12 March 2023 - 19:23 Bangkok Time) this story is not going to be sold, modified, or translated in any manner.

Kei has gone for 3 weeks on his business trip, so you slept alone when he's not around

But you never told Kei that your nightmares and anxiety habits always occur when he's not around

One day, you pick him up at the airport from his business trip

When you slept with him again, you thought the nightmares gone. But no, it's waking you up, your face was full of cold sweats.

He realizes you’re not in bed until he finds you in the kitchen, hugging yourself on the floor beside the refrigerator.

When he saw you, he know that your nightmares happened again

"Nightmare again?"

"Yeah. Did I wake you?"

"Yeah, I think you whimper an hour ago, you're sweating. I tried to pat you but trying not to make you awake."

"I'm really sorry to waking you up then, Kei"

"Are you okay now?" he asked, lowered his body so he can see your face clearly.

"Yeah, just need a little space" you said with a tired face.

"Did I snore that loud?" He smirked, hoping it could ease the mood.

"What- no, stupid. that’s not what I meant" she sighed.

"Since when did this happen again?"

"Just today"

"Don’t lie to me now" he glared.

"Okay- okay, it’s been a month"

"So this happened when I was on the business trip?"

"Yeah, after I drop you off at the Airport"

"Did you already talk to Doctor ____ again?"

"Yeah, but he doesn’t advise taking medicine again"

"Why?"

"Because… This time when I wake up I have headaches"

"Wait, what? Why?"

"I don't know. But it occurs badly when I sleep alone. This time is just better than before, okay?"

"So… in conclusion, you had this when I'm not with you"

"Yeah, logically. But never mind I'll talk to my doctors for fixing this up?"

"Fix this up? But you said even doctors didn't give you medicines"

"Nah, it's okay I'll talk again to him next week to discuss this"

You got back to bed when you saw Kei call you, open his arms indicating he wants to hug you.

You are confused because even it’s in private he rarely shows physical affection.

"Come here, Y/N"

"Huh? No need, Kei. You'll always be uncomfortable when I hug yo-" he cuts you.

"I read hugs help reduce anxieties sleeping too, so come here"

"But Kei you'll get cramps"

"I'll be more upset you’ll keep hurt like this. Let’s just try this one and if it works, I'll hug you again until your nightmares are gone"

"Hon, my head is heavy-" he still cuts your explanation :)

"Stop that, I'm here to help. I chose to help you."

In the end, you follow his instructions and you both hugged each other when sleeping.

After doing that for a week, the nightmares reduced slightly.

"Kei I think it works"

"Really? No more nightmares?"

"No. No nightmares like that but I always keep awake at 2 AM, which is also better than before"

"So… you were still awake but no nightmares"

"Yeah, when I'm awake I always see you when you sleep, so I think it reduced my panic attacks when I awoke alone"

"Okay then, at least we know the reason."

"Yeah. Looks like your hug treatment worked so well for me, so… thank you"

"No worries, so, another hug for tonight?"

"Yeah. Thank you Kei"

"Glad to help, just tell me when you need something, Sweet" he kissed your forehead.

[orthodoxadventure]

I ask for a prayer. I've been dealing with increased anger and anxiety recently. Certainly a symptom of neglecting my spiritual needs the past few months. If you will, pray that I get back on the right path. Please and thank you. God bless.

I'm sorry to hear that you've been struggling with anxiety and anger recently, and I pray that both of these things improve for you. Of course I will keep you in my prayers.

Some prayers you might find helpful are under the readmore

Prayer Against Fear

O Greatly-merciful Master, Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me and cleanse me from every sadness and disturbance and cowardice. Drive away from me every spiritual choking and demonic sorrow, that I sense in my body and my soul. For You are our Joy, and the hope of all the ends of the earth, and those far off at sea. Be merciful to me, O Master, upon my sins. Take from me the heavy burden of sin and despair. Drive far away from me every sadness and laziness. Confirm me in Your Love, and with unassailable hope and unshakable faith in You, through the intercessions of Your Spotless Mother, and all Your Saints. Amen.

Another Prayer Against Fear

O Master, Lord my God, in Whose hands is my destiny:  Help me according to Thy mercy, and leave me not to perish in my transgressions, nor allow me to follow them who place desires of the flesh over those of the spirit.

I am Thy creation; disdain not the work of Thy hands. Turn not away; be compassionate and humiliate me not, neither scorn me, O Lord, as I am weak. I have fled unto Thee as my Protector and God. Heal my soul, for I have sinned against Thee. Save me for Thy mercy’s sake, for I have cleaved unto Thee from my youth; let me who seeks Thee not be put to shame by being rejected by Thee for mine unclean actions, unseemly thoughts, and unprofitable remembrances. Drive away from me every filthy thing and excess of evil.

For Thou alone art holy, alone mighty, and alone immortal, in all things having unexcelled might, which, through Thee, is given to all that strive against the devil and the might of his armies. For unto Thee is due all glory, honor and worship:  To the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, now and ever, and unto ages of ages. Amen

Prayer Against Adversity

Dear heavenly Lord, It’s as if I take One step forward and Two steps back. Things go wrong In the most unexpected ways. It seems like the whole world Works against me sometimes. And my failure ties me up in knots. Yet I know one thing, For Your Word has told me, That I am not alone. So once again I call out to You, Rise up, oh Lord, rise up! Strike down the resistance and fear That seek to silence my faith. Give me strength and clarity To continue, no matter How hard the wind blows against me. I believe in Your promise. You will not abandon me. I trust in the resurrection That sets my soul free. You are my almighty God And I am Your beloved child. Christ won this for me Upon the cross. Only by Your grace, According to Your holy will, In Jesus name, Amen.

Prayer to Overcome Panic Attacks

Lord, I come to You and I thank You for drawing near to me when I draw near to You. To think that You are mindful of me — it overwhelms my soul. But Lord, today my spirit is heavy and my body is weak. I cannot bear the weight of this anxiety and panic any longer. I recognize I can’t get through this alone, and I pray against the very active enemy who is trying to shake my faith and tear us apart. Help me stand strong in You. Fortify these weary bones and remind me of the truth that this pain and panic will not last forever. It will pass.

Fill me with Your joy, peace and perseverance, Father. Restore my soul and break the chains of anxiety and panic that bind me. I trust You with my panic and I know that You have the power to take it all away. But even if You don’t, I know I don’t have to be a slave to my fear. I can rest in the shadow of Your wings and I will rise and overcome by Your unwavering strength. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

Bless My Enemies, O Lord

Bless my enemies, O Lord. Even I bless them and do not curse them.

Enemies have driven me into your embrace more than friends have.

Friends have bound me to earth, enemies have loosed me from earth and have demolished all my aspirations in the world.

Enemies have made me a stranger in worldly realms and an extraneous inhabitant of the world. Just as a hunted animal finds safer shelter than an unhunted animal does, so have I, persecuted by enemies, found the safest sanctuary, having ensconced myself beneath your tabernacle, where neither friends nor enemies can slay my soul.

Bless my enemies, O Lord. Even I bless them and do not curse them.

They, rather than I, have confessed my sins before the world.

They have punished me, whenever I have hesitated to punish myself. They have tormented me, whenever I have tried to flee torments. They have scolded me, whenever I have flattered myself. They have spat upon me, whenever I have filled myself with arrogance.

Bless my enemies, O Lord, Even I bless them and do not curse them.

Whenever I have made myself wise, they have called me foolish. Whenever I have made myself mighty, they have mocked me as though I were a dwarf. Whenever I have wanted to lead people, they have shoved me into the background. Whenever I have rushed to enrich myself, they have prevented me with an iron hand. Whenever I thought that I would sleep peacefully, they have wakened me from sleep. Whenever I have tried to build a home for a long and tranquil life, they have demolished it and driven me out.

Truly, enemies have cut me loose from the world and have stretched out my hands to the hem of your garment.

Bless my enemies, O Lord. Even I bless them and do not curse them.

Bless them and multiply them; multiply them and make them even more bitter against me:

so that my fleeing to You may have no return; so that all hope in men may be scattered like cobwebs; so that absolute serenity may begin to reign in my soul; so that my heart may become the grave of my two evil twins, arrogance and anger; so that I might amass all my treasure in heaven; ah, so that I may for once be freed from self-deception, which has entangled me in the dreadful web of illusory life.

Enemies have taught me to know what hardly anyone knows, that a person has no enemies in the world except himself.

One hates his enemies only when he fails to realize that they are not enemies, but cruel friends.

It is truly difficult for me to say who has done me more good and who has done me more evil in the world: friends or enemies.

Therefore bless, O Lord, both my friends and enemies.

A slave curses enemies, for he does not understand. But a son blesses them, for he understands. For a son knows that his enemies cannot touch his life. Therefore he freely steps among them and prays to God for them.