#no matter how i express myself i feel like it’ll always be wrong

[thefleshyougoveggie]

there’s something that just hurts about being an afab trans person and realizing that you’ll never be a girl

[starrylevi]

Little drabble about you feeling all the feelings and Levi tries to help out 💫

You’ve always been made to feel like you’re too much. Others say you’re “too sensitive” or you “care too much”. They’ve made it such a point that now you actively try not to say or show too much. You keep your feelings to yourself, no matter how lonely or painful it is. Being by yourself forces you to learn how to self soothe. That way, you don’t need to share your feelings. So when Levi asks you what’s wrong you don’t quite know what to say…or how to say it.

You turn to face him in bed. “It’s a lot…” You sigh.

Levi rolls his eyes playfully. “Try me.”

You pause, looking up to the ceiling as if it’ll give you answers. “Have you ever felt too big for your body?”

“Hm. What do you mean?”

“Like, everything that’s inside you is too much and you feel like you’re going to explode?”

“Like when you’re angry?” He raises an eyebrow.

“Kind of…but it’s different.”

“How so?”

“Well…” You try to think of a way to explain it in a way he’ll understand. Words fail you. “I’m not good at this.” You say with a light chuckle.

Levi’s eyes soften at your words. He wants you to feel comfortable expressing yourself. “Me either.” He reaches around you and pulls you close to him, so close that both of your noses are touching. You can’t help but let out a giggle. “Come on, keep going.” He gives you an encouraging squeeze on your hip.

“Hm….it’s like what you said about anger but…it’s like you have a cup of water, right?”

“Mhm…”

“And let’s say it’s filled halfway…but water keeps being poured into it, until it overflows.”

“Right.”

“There’s too much water in my glass….I’m spilling, slowly but surely…and I don’t know how to stop it…but I need all of the water to get out.”

“So tip yourself over.” Levi jokes.

You chuckle. “But that’s exactly the issue…I’m scared to tip myself over.”

“Why?”

You sigh. “It would be too much…I would be too much.”

“For who?” Levi’s eyebrows furrow.

You shrug. “For you.”

“Y/N…You don’t get to decide that for me.”

“But it’s already been decided.”

“By who, you?” He asks.

“Yes.”

“No offense but…you make terrible decisions.”

You let out a gasp before you start to laugh. “That’s rude.”

“It’s the truth.” He smirks before he places a gentle kiss on your lips. “Listen,” His smile falls and his expression turns serious. “I don’t know who or what made you think you’re too much but you’re not. Your feelings are not ‘too big’ or whatever the fuck people like to say…and if they tell you that, just point them out to me.”

You shake your head, chuckling. “Levi…”

“What? I’m being completely serious.”

“I know, that’s what makes it so funny. My little guard dog.” You nuzzle his nose with yours affectionately before placing your lips against his.

“You tell anyone else you call me that and I’ll end you.” He says in between kisses.

“Ooo, is that a threat?” You pull back a little and

grin widely at him.

“It’s a promise.” He mutters as his lips find yours again.

[ssinnerplazahotel]

𝘽𝙞𝙧𝙙𝙞𝙚&𝙀

╭──────────.★..─╮

*Chapter Three*

╰─..★.──────────╯

WC:5k

Warning: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, it’s the 50s/60s

Pairing: elvis x black reader

Masterlist: Prologue, Ch.1, Ch.2

Christmas was usually your favorite time of year, you loved the festivities and the decorations. You and your mother had an annual tradition of taking a trip downtown to soak up some of the atmosphere and to be a part of the hustle and bustle of the busy holiday season. You expected this year to be different, being in Memphis and away from home. But things were drastically different now.

You were in the dining room with Dawn and Cynthia setting up for the Christmas Eve dinner party that Elvis hosted every year. You weren’t sure how anyone managed to get excited over these parties like they didn’t have them nearly every night—you blamed it on the holidays.

You slipped away after setting the table, going upstairs to take a breath before the bulk of the crowd arrived. You heard the gentle sound of the piano resonating from the music room. You recognized the song playing, it was one you often heard coming from the room during some of Elvis’ many long, sleepless nights. You stopped by the door, leaning against the frame as you watched him.

He only played for a moment more before his hands froze on the keys. He turned his head, meeting your eyes. “Birdie,” He said, his voice no more than a whisper in the, now, silent room.

“Hi,” You whispered back. He held his hand out for you with a blank stare—just a hint of a smile on his face. “What’s wrong?” You asked as you crossed the room and took his hand.

He pulled you down beside him on the piano bench, bringing your hand to his lips and holding there for a moment before pulling away. “I’m okay,” He said. You weren’t convinced.

“Tell me,” You pressed. “I can see it in your eyes that something's wrong.”

He turned his head to laugh, looking back at you with a playful expression that you could see straight through. “I guess I get blue during Christmas.”

“Why?” You asked with a concerned tilt of your head.

His smile faded quickly, his eyes focused on yours but somehow distant. He cleared his throat, blinking rapidly a few times. “I miss her a lot around Christmas…”

You nodded, bringing your right hand up to cup his face. You felt your throat tighten as you brushed your thumb against his cheek. You had spent all day trying to force down your own emotions surrounding the holiday. It was the first Christmas without your mother, and as much as you wanted to push away the emotions stirring in your chest you knew it was just a matter of time before it really hit you.

“The years keep goin by a-and…pretty soon it’ll just be another Christmas.” He sighed, shaking his head. “It won’t be so different, it’ll be normal and it won’t feel like anything’s missing.”

“You’ll always miss her, E.” Your voice was unsteady as you held on to your composure.

He met your eyes again then, his expression softening. “Oh, birdie, I-I didn’t~ I-I shouldn’t’ve~”

“I want you to talk to me~”

“But I know you’re hurting too,” He said, putting his hand over yours where it still rested on his face. “Are you okay?”

“No,” You admit. “But…Dawn says it’ll pass. It has to pass, right?”

“I don’t know if it ever stops hurting,” He said somberly. “But I hope it gets easier to live with.”

“My mother,” You started, trying to blink away your tears. “She always said that you gotta hurt to heal but…I’m worried that once I start allowing myself to feel those feelings they’ll never go away.”

“You can’t keep it in forever, baby.” He turned his head to kiss your palm before letting your hand go. “That’ll only end up doing more bad than good.” He turned his attention back to the ivory keys of the piano. “I see you headin for that dark place. You can’t let yourself go there, you gotta find another way. If you can’t cry it out, maybe you can figure something else out.”

“Is singing your way?” You asked, watching as he began to play the gentle chords of an old Christmas song that you couldn’t remember the name of.

“I don’t know,” He said. “I just let the feelings happen, I don’t do anything to stop 'em but I don’t do anything to solve ‘em either.”

“I really miss her.” You sighed. “I can’t grasp the fact that I’ll never see her again.”

“Or put your arms around her,” Elvis added solemnly, his fingers slowing coming to a stop against the keys.

The two of you sat there staring down at the piano in silence. Tears welled in your eyes, you didn’t have to look up to know Elvis was crying after you heard the trembling breath he released. You didn’t say anything as you laid your head on his shoulder, a tear racing down the bridge of your nose as you did so. He put his arm around you, laying his head against yours. There was nothing to be said as the two of you sat there silently weeping for reasons so similar that you understood each other without speaking.

You wanted to stay there crying on his shoulder for hours, but you eventually had to pull yourself together to go finish set up for the party. Elvis was reluctant to let you go, he wanted to escape to his room and hide there until the festivities were over.

“Come on,” You said, pulling him up from the piano bench. “You put on a smile and go entertain your guests like your mama would’ve wanted you to.”

He smiled gently at that, tears still clinging to his lashes as he pulled you into a hug. “You’ll be there, that’s the only reason I’ll go,” He said. “You’ll come see me after?”

“If I can get past the guards,” You teased, pulling away from the hug and looking up at him. You reached up and thumbed away the remainder of his tears. “I’ll see you out there.”

“Okay, honey,” He whispered, closing his eyes as you kissed his cheek. “I’m right behind you.”

You left the music room feeling lighter than when you walked in. Talking about your feelings actually did ease the tightness in your chest.

When you got back downstairs there were already guests arriving, causing you to put on a smile as you greeted them on your way to the kitchen.

“Where were you?” Your aunt asked when you joined her by the stove.

“I needed a minute,” You said without elaborating, hoping your puffy eyes were enough of an explanation. “Do you want me to start moving the food to the dining table?”

“You can, I doubt anyone will really sit down to eat,” Dawn said. “Make it look nice anyway.”

“Sure.” You grabbed a pan of food from the counter before walking it out to the dinner table.

You caught a glimpse of Elvis as you sat the food down, you were surprised to see how well he had pulled himself together. If you didn’t know any better you wouldn’t have thought he was hurting at all as he smiled and laughed with his friends and family.

*

You were stripping the table to wash the linens when Dawn emerged from the kitchen, having just finished the last of her chores for the night. The party was still alive and well, though most of the guests had already left. There were still a handful of people hanging around making enough noise to keep everyone else awake.

“Let me help you.” Dawn started to fold the tablecloth.

“Don’t worry about it~”

“I insist.”

You smiled in thanks as you went to take the rest of the table linens to the laundry room, Dawn following silently behind you. Her silence made you feel unsettled, she was never quiet. You didn’t bother to say anything about it as you loaded the linens into the wash, hoping to escape to your room afterwards.

“Thanks,” You said after starting the washer. “I think I’m going to turn in. I’ll get up early to clean up after everyone’s cleared out.”

“Okay.” She nodded as you tried to get past her to leave the laundry room.

“Is everything okay?” You asked when she didn’t move.

She didn’t say anything as she reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out your mother’s scarf. “I found this in the laundry a few days ago.”

You took the scarf as she handed it to you.

“Elvis’ laundry,” She clarified, causing a crushing feeling to wash over you.

“It must’ve gotten mixed in somehow,” You said. “I’m sure it was an accident.”

Dawn sighed, turning to shut the door of the laundry room before facing you with her arms crossed. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t act clueless, we both know you aren’t.”

You looked down at the scarf in your hands, mentally cursing yourself for not making sure you got it back sooner.

“I explicitly asked you to keep a low profile around here,” Dawn continued with a disappointed expression. “Of all people—Elvis?”

“I’m not sure what you think is going on~”

“I don’t need the lies or the excuses,” She said, her demeanor was calm but the glare on her face told you everything you needed to know about how angry she was. “I can’t lose this job, you know that. I let you into my home, into my life, I took you in after your mother’s death and you put me in jeopardy like this?”

You tried to speak but you weren’t able to get a word in.

“Whatever you think you’re doing stops now,” She said. “It’s insane and inappropriate.”

“Why is it so insane?” You dared to ask. “Is it so unbelievable that he likes me?”

“Yes, it is.” She lowered her voice in an attempt to keep from raising it. “There’s only one thing a man like that wants with a girl like you.”

“A girl like me?”

“A colored girl.”

Your lips pursed as you matched Dawn’s glare, your gaze unwavering. “And what’s that?” You asked, your voice quiet as you struggled to keep it steady.

“You’ll know once he gets it,” She said. “He’ll drop you so fast you won’t even get the chance to put your arms out and catch yourself.”

“You’re wrong.” Your voice sounded unsure even to your own ears.

“Really?” Dawn asked, her eyebrows raising. “Just how long do you think he’ll go on playing this game with you? Sneaking from room to room, waiting until the coast is clear—or at least until he thinks it is~”

“Your point?”

“Why would he keep putting himself through all that trouble when he can, and does, have any girl he wants,” She continued. “He’ll never choose you, for obvious reasons.”

“He’s not a racist, Dawn." Your hurt morphed into anger. “When he looks at me that’s not all he sees.”

“Is that what he told you?” She asked with an unconvinced expression. “His contract won’t even let him sing for a negro charity, you think they’ll let him walk around with you on his arm? It’ll never happen. Whatever you have going on, do yourself a favor and end it before you get hurt.”

“There���s nothing going on,” You said. “He’s my friend, we talk sometimes. There’s no harm in that.”

“Just don’t let your scarf get lost in Mr. Presley’s room the next time the two of you talk.” She turned to leave.

“Elvis,” You corrected before she was gone. “He hates when people call him Mr. Presley.”

She cut her eye at you once more before opening the door and leaving the room.

*

You didn’t meet Elvis in his room that night like you had promised. As much as you wanted to not let Dawn's words get to you, you couldn’t help it. She was right, and despite your own stubbornness to believe her, you knew it.

Elvis was Elvis.

There were thousands of women all over the country that wanted him. Only god knew how many of them actually had him. How many of them he pined after in the same ways that he'd pined after you, ways that you were a fool to believe were special. In reality, the only thing special about your situation with Elvis was that nobody knew about it. Nobody could know about it, even if you wanted them to. Your relationship wasn’t a relationship at all, it was just a secret--hidden behind closed doors. If you knew anything about things done in the dark, you knew they always came brutally to the light.

You were lying in bed that night when your door opened, startling you out of your uproar of thoughts. You sighed as Elvis closed the door. “What are you doing?”

“What am I doing?” He repeated. “I’ve been waiting for you, birdie. You standin me up?”

“No, Elvis." You pushed the covers from your legs and got up before he could join you on the bed. “You have to go.”

“What’s the matter?” He asked, his expression turning serious.

“Dawn,” You said. “She found my scarf in your room and she…”

He seemed to relax after hearing that, putting his arms around your waist. You closed your eyes as his scent invaded your senses, making you swoon as it always did. “I’ll talk to her~”

“No.” You walked out of his arms and towards the door. “You have to leave, E. I don’t want to do this tonight.” You tried to open the door, only for him to stride over and push it back shut. “I don’t think we should carry on like this. Not anymore.”

“What’d she say to you?” He asked, trying to meet your eyes as you stood facing the door, your hand still on the knob. "Tell me."

“This was a really dumb idea." You finally met his eyes, the anger you felt towards Dawn returning as you replayed her words in your mind. “I don’t know what I was thinking, okay?”

“No, not okay,” He said, his eyebrows drawing together. “I-I thought we~”

“You thought wrong,” You snapped. “You can have any girl in the world, why the hell are you so bothered with me?”

“I don’t want any girl, darlin, I want you." He reached out to touch your face. “You’re my girl.”

“I’m not your girl.” You pulled away. “I’ll never be your girl, Elvis. Not as long as you are who you are and I am who I am.”

“I thought we were past this.”

“It’s not about color,” You said in frustration. “It’s about you being Elvis Presley. It's about everyone in the world knowing who you are, everyone in this house--they worship you.”

“Birdie~”

“I’ll never know you outside of these rooms, I’ll always be confined to this space with you. Behind closed doors, hidden. A secret. I don’t know why it’s taken me this long to understand who you are. Who I am.”

“Birdie,” He said again, taking his hand from the door and making you face him. “You’re my girl, that’s who you are.”

You shook your head, keeping your eyes down as he held you by the waist.

“W-What we have, it’s different,” He continued. “I don’t have to be Elvis Presley when I’m with you, b-because that’s not who you expect me to be. I can be me, I can be myself a-and you won’t want me any other way. That’s why you’re my girl, regardless of everything else. Regardless of what your aunt or anyone else has to say about it.” He took your face in his hands, making you meet his eyes. He stared at you for a moment, an unfamiliar look in his sapphire eyes. “You’re my girl...tell me.”

You looked at him, not saying a word as his eyes flitted wantonly over your features.

“Tell me,” He repeated before silence engulfed the two of you once more. His jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth, a short laugh leaving him. “Come on, baby, don’t make me force it out of you.” He stepped impossibly closer as he lowered his head and graced his lips over yours. “You know I can.”

Your eyes fell closed as he pressed his lips fully against yours, your hands coming up to hold his wrists as he held your face. You started to push him away, but your resolve was waning quickly. You broke the kiss first, trying to come back to your senses but failing miserably as he continued to trail kisses down your jaw and your neck, nibbling at the sensitive skin.

“Tell me you’re my girl.” He breathed against your skin, his hand traveling down your sides as he continued his assault.

You couldn’t help the sound that escaped your lips as he hiked your dress up. “E-Elvis~”

“Uh-uh,” He chided disapprovingly. “You know that’s not what I wanna hear, little girl.”

You rolled your eyes, angry at yourself and your lack of willpower. You grasped his shoulders for dear life as his hand slipped past the top of your panties, bracing yourself for the mind-numbing feeling of his fingers pressing against you.

You closed your eyes, leaning your head back against the door. You were so wonderstruck by the feelings that came over you as he fingered you against your bedroom door. You would’ve done or said anything he wanted at that moment, despite the conflicting emotions threatening to consume you. All you needed was for him to keep making you feel everything you were feeling.

His lips found yours again, kissing you feverishly. You moaned when his fingers curled inside of you. He started slow, building his pace until he had you ascending towards your high.

You held your breath, barely holding yourself up on your trembling legs. “Oh, god.”

Elvis groaned, breaking the kiss and looking down at you. His free hand came up to wrap around your neck, not adding any pressure but holding you there as he watched you fall apart, his rings were cold against your burning skin. “Tell me you’re my girl.”

“E-Elvis~”

“Say it,” He said more firmly, his fingers halting deep inside of you.

You whimpered, throwing your head back against your bedroom door, teetering so desperately over the edge of your release.

“I-l’m your girl."

“That’s what I thought.”

He removed his hand from your underwear but before you could complain he dropped to his knees in front of you, pulling your panties to the side and burying his face in your heat.

You stood up on your tiptoes, unsure of whether to give in to the immense pleasure or run away from it. Your hands grabbed onto his hair in an attempt to ground yourself as your soul positively left your body.

The pleasure was unlike before as he sent you careening off the edge with stars dotting your vision. If not for the death grip he had on your hips, you were sure you would’ve hit the ground.

Elvis hummed approvingly as you rode out your orgasm, his tongue massaging your clit thoroughly throughout, only pulling away when your legs started to truly give out. He sighed as he stood, holding your body against his as he wiped the remainder of your release from his chin. “Should’ve tasted you sooner.”

Your expression was still dazed as he kissed you, wrapping your useless legs around his waist and carrying you to your bed. He laid you down under him, kissing you deeply for another moment before pulling away.

“Let me clean you up, mama,” He said, but you ignored his words and continued to kiss him, your hands traveling down his chest until they rested on the buckle of his pants. “What’re you doin?” He chuckled.

“I want you,” You replied breathlessly. “All of you.”

He pulled away and met your eyes with a concerned expression that you didn’t understand. “You’re not thinking clearly.”

“I am,” You insisted, you weren’t sure if you had ever been so sure about anything. It could be the high of your previous orgasm talking or your desire to actually feel like you were his, even if was only for a moment. “I-I’m your girl. I want to be your girl.”

“You are my girl.” He sounded as if he was reassuring you. “My pretty girl.”

You sat up when he stood up from the bed, watching him turn the lock on the door before he started to slowly undo the buttons of his shirt. He did away with the shirt before joining you on the bed again. He sat beside you, kissing your shoulder and helping you out of your nightgown.

You shivered.

He tossed it to the ground, putting your arms around his neck as you sat completely bare before him. “Please, Elvis,” You begged, putting your pride and embarrassment aside. “Make love to me.”

“Not t’night.” You immediately deflated, a disappointed sigh leaving your lips. You started to pull away, wanting to cover yourself as your confidence was shot down. “What?” He laughed as he kept you in your spot.

“Don’t laugh at me.” You crossed your arms, your embarrassment reappearing as you avoided his eyes.

“I’m not,” He chuckled. “C’mon, baby. I-I’m not laughin at ya.”

You kept your eyes down, your arms crossed over your bare chest and his arm still wrapped around you. “Why won’t you make love to me?” You uttered quietly, you were convinced that there was something wrong with you. There was something about you that he hated so much that he couldn’t even bring himself to make love to you. “Aren’t you attracted to me?”

“Of course I am. You don’t know the things I’ve done to keep myself from taking you all way.” He tapped your chin with his index finger and you met his eyes. “I want the time to be right, that’s all.”

“The time will never be right.”

“It’s not happening t’night.” His tone was final.

“I want to make you feel good,” You said anyway, only recieving an amused smile in return. “Why are laughing?”

“Why are you so sensitive?” He shot back instead of answering, running his right hand down you bare thigh—reminding you again of your own nudity. “It makes me feel good hearing those pretty sounds you make when I touch you~”

“No." He gripped the bend of your knee pulled your leg until you laid against your back beneath him. “You know that’s not what I mean. If you don’t want me~”

“I want you.” He kissed the corner of your mouth before meeting your eyes again. “It’ll happen, just not tonight. There are other ways you can make me feel good.”

“How?” You asked, listening intently to what he had to say.

“Lot of ways.” He kissed you briefly before pulling away from you, positioning himself so that he sat back against your headboard. “C’mere, darlin,” He encouraged, patting his lap. “Sit right here.”

You followed his instructions, of course. Crawling up to where he sat and straddling his thighs. He took you by the waist and held you still as he rolled his hips up once, causing you to feel his painfully hard erection through his slacks. You released a surprised sound as the material of his pants rubbed against your bare heat.

“You feel that?” He asked, his voice starting to sound strained as you met his hips in another roll. “That’s how bad I want you.”

You couldn’t stop the pathetic whimper that left your lips as you rutted against him. You wanted so badly to have him in any way that he wanted you. “T-Tell me what to do.”

Elvis released your hips, kissing you as his hands went to unbuckle the front of his pants. Your heart rate increased as you anticipated his next move, finding yourself eagerly awaiting his direction. He didn’t speak as he grabbed your wrist and guided your hand up to your mouth.

"Spit," He instructed casually. He smiled at your hesitation. "It's okay."

You felt hot all over but you followed his instructions. His gaze was intense as he watched you, his eyes never leaving yours even as he guided your wet hand beneath his pants. He exhaled tensely as he wrapped your wet fingers around him. You watched his eyelids go heavy as he showed you what to do, taking his hand away when he thought you had the motion down.

“That's perfect, baby,” He whispered, grabbing your waist again and moving you against your own hand as you continued pumping him.

You weren't satisfied. “I want to feel you.”

He sighed but he wasn't annoyed. "What do you want?"

"You?"

"Me?"

"Yes."

"My cock?"

He could've lit you on fire and you would have burned up in half the time than you did in that moment. He made your physically weak.

"Yes."

"Say it."

"No."

"Don't be shy, birdie, you can say it. I wanna hear you."

"I...I want your cock."

The sentence sounded foreign on your tongue but he still muttered a gentle praise and pulled your arm away before reaching down to push his slack down, fully exposing his erect penis. He kicked the material the rest of the way down his legs, leaving him as bare as you were. He shifted beneath you, pulling your hips down until your heat met his aching erection. The sounds that left his lips made you feral, you didn’t want to miss a second of watching him pleasure himself with your arousal.

Your hips stuttered from the contact and you felt him shutter. You moved experimentally, your eyes threatening to fall shut. Elvis began to meet your movements in shallow thrusts and the pleasure you were feeling to intensified.

“Just like that,” He encouraged, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. "Fuck."

Your hand moved from where it rested on his chest and wrapped around his throat. You applied the slightest pressure, teasing him. He tensed and his breath caught in his throat. His lips parted as if to say something--to warn you of his impending rapture. He started to push you away but you stopped him.

"I want you to," You insisted, encouraging him.

His movements faltered and his gaze went unfocused before his eyes rolled back and his hips stuttered against yours.

He swore, forcing you still as he came down. He exhaled while kissing your shoulder, still feeling the heat of your core against him. “Tell me.”

“I’m your girl,” You said knowingly, your eyes closed as you hugged him back.

“My girl.” His breathing started to even out again.

You pulled away from his embrace, looking down at his blissed out expression. You kissed him briefly on the forehead before standing from the bed.

“Where’re you are goin?” He asked following you with his eyes, a lazy smirk on his lips.

“Just a second,” You chided as you walked into the bathroom, grabbing a cloth from your towel rack before standing at the sink to run warm water over it. You cleaned yourself up quickly before rinsing the cloth, shrugging on the white silk robe that Elvis had gotten you. When you returned to the room he had pulled his slacks back up his legs. He sat against your headboard with them unfastened, staring at the ceiling.

He only looked up when he noticed you, his blank expression softening into a smile. “There you are. I was getting lonesome, darlin.”

You cleaned him up before going to discard the rag in the bathroom. You turned off the lights and joined him in bed after, pulling your comforter over the two of you and laying your head on his bare chest. You listened to the steady beat of his heart, closing your eyes and getting lost in the sound as he traced patterns into your shoulder.

“It’s Christmas,” He said suddenly, his low voice cutting through the silence.

You couldn’t see the clock on your bedside table, but you figured it was past midnight now. “It is.”

He reached up to turn on the lamp, causing you to squint against the light.

“What are you doing?” You asked as he sat up in the bed, sitting up after him.

“Here,” He said, taking the ring off of his pinky finger and grabbing your hand.

“No.” You tried to pull your hand away. “I can’t.”

“Take it,” He laughed, slipping the ring onto your middle finger. You sighed, looking down at it on your hand as he left a tender kiss on your cheek. “Merry Christmas, baby.”

“I don’t have anything to give you.”

“You give me everything just by being here with me like this.”

“That’s not enough.”

“I don’t want anything but you.”

You met his eyes. “Can I ask you something?”

“Oh no,” He said with an exasperated sigh, pretending to think about it for a moment. “Fine, just don’t go getting yourself upset.”

You were hesitant to continue, you didn’t want to ruin the moment, but you had to ask. “Could you love me?” There was a beat of silence and you worried he misunderstood. “N-Not do you love me, but could you.”

“Could I love you?” He repeated, you nodded your head. He looked down, fidgeting with the ring on your finger for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “Why do you ask?”

“I want to know how you feel.”

He chuckled softly, tapping your chin before answering. “I could love you.”

“You think?”

“I know I could.”

His response was enough to minimize your growing insecurities for the moment at least, so you didn’t question him further. Instead you smiled as he kissed you, kissing him back slowly. When he broke the kiss to turn off the lights you let your smile drop. Despite you temporary satisfaction, you were still dreading the feelings that would come back tomorrow when you left this room and went on acting as if this night never happened. You wanted to stay in this moment forever—or for any amount of time it took to fill you up enough to last a lifetime.

You knew then that, dreadfully enough, you were in love with Elvis Presley.

And it terrified you to your core.

*

[rweoutofthewoods]

Just finished reading the new chapter of Youngblood…it was my dad’s birthday today and in a few days it’ll be his death anniversary, so this chapter hit a bit close to home but I think there was a lot of stuff said in it that I might’ve needed to hear. Your work always finds ways to make me reflect on my own life, you have such a personal and impactful writing style and I think that’s very special.

Also side note; I love how in the new chapter of Saltwater & Cigarettes, Regulus wants to prove to everyone that he can be loved…meanwhile in Youngblood, Regulus realizes that Sirius is proof that he can be loved. I’m hoping for S&C Regulus to come to a similar realization.

Hi! First of all, I’m sending you so much love and warmth and I’ll be thinking about you this week 🩷🩷

Writing real experiences can be terrifying honestly, because I can only ever hope I’m writing it in a way that’s not only not harmful to everyone who’s lived similar experiences but is also meaningful. But it’s so important to me, not just to share my own experiences that others might be able to see themselves in, but to step into other situations and know that every single person on earth carries something and if I even have the slightest chance to give people a piece of themselves or their lives they don’t usually get in fanfic or just media in general, that’s what I TRY for. It is so, SO meaningful to me everytime anyone says “hey I see myself and my pain in this” especially because often it’s real pain. Pain I’ve felt, pain my loved ones have felt, pain I’ve seen happen in real life.

But all that rambling said, despite my love for angst I truly think every single thing I write has so much underlying hope and love in it. I have so much hope and admiration for all the people in the world, and for humanity. There will be more examinations of James’ grief in the next chap and some really important conversations. And really my message is that pain exists, life can be so cruel. And all the beauty and love here doesn’t undo anything that happens, and it’s ok if some things stay hard forever. Because some parts of life don’t stop hurting or get easier, and there IS hope but, sometimes positivity can be cruel. We expect people to get up and move on and look on the bright side. But people are allowed to hurt, to grieve forever, to hold onto grudges or anger or bitterness, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But there’s also hope for better. Not always the best, or happily ever after, but you’re always allowed to feel your pain and still find love and happiness even if one can’t undo the other. Snd like Youngblood Sirius, maybe you do find happily ever after and move forward and that’s okay too. It’s okay if you’re mostly happy, but some days aren’t. Emotions and reactions to the past are not linear, and I really try to show that in Youngblood.

And life can be truly beautiful, people are so beautiful, and we can love each other so so hard, that I’m always in awe of it. There is pain and mistakes and parts of life that feel impossible to get past, but here we all are. And I’m full of so much hope and forgiveness and love for all the people around me, and I really try to imbue that in all my writing no matter how painful and hard to swallow the topics might be.

This turned into such a ramble… and I wish I was saying things in the exact way I want to, but it’s hard to put into words. At least words here, that’s why I tell stories. But anyway, I hope my point gets across. And if ur like wtf is she on about… SORRY 😭 I 1000% lost the plot here and this is unfiltered rambles atp.

I’m sending you a lot of love, and I’m thinking about you and every person who might share experiences with the topics I choose to write about. We all share a lot, and we’re not alone in the rough parts of life. That’s proven by how many people in reference to my fics alone express they’ve been through similar things <33

mwah!! (extra hard)

[athousandmorningss]

Some good things:

+ I got a raise for one of my teaching gigs;

+ Got my ~17,000 student loan down to ~11,500 in a matter of a month or so. S/O to the side gig & to my budgeting!;

+ Y’s ex & I have become friends. We are planning to meet in Colorado for a cabin hang. Maybe that’s weird, but I don’t think it is. I think it’ll be healing to meet a person who has had a near-exact experience as me.

+ A previous student emailed me, asking if I’ll be covering a specific course next semester, because they want to take it with me.

+ The state of NM deposited 1,000 into my account unexpectedly. I’m thinking maybe I effed up with my taxes? Whatever the reason: a large chunk of it went to the aforementioned student loan & I’m ganna rent an airbnb with a pool here in a few weeks, because I need to swim badly.

+Making the collage last night was so relaxing & fun. More of that tonight, with some vegetarian nummies & a bottle of wine I’m ganna order for delivery, in hopes the cute delivery guy that usually comes will smile & flirt like he does.

I want to parse some things out related to my ex husband, but will do so under the cut.

I’m ganna detail a situation that happened last year, because it is an example of something I experienced and I’m trying to work through/understand my own response.

Y and I were supposed to watch a football game on a Sunday. He said, I don’t want to miss a work shift, so I’m going to work late Saturday night (he did doordash). I said, Okay.

He did not arrive home until noon or 1 the next day: no call or text to check in with me, and no explanation about arriving home that late. We go down to the bar below our apartment, and he leaves his phone in the apartment. All very fucking odd behavior that had my stomach in knots. We get to bar, and he does not want to talk about work. His behavior is very standoffish and cold. The knot in my stomach tightens even more.

I go up to the apartment and look through his phone. A thing I should not have done (I have nuanced thoughts about this though IDK). I found weird text messages: one in which Y said “I dropped her off at your apartment” and others that were sent to his phone with a food order request.

I want straight to the bar and asked him wtf is going on. He screamed at me, said he was “fucking done with me” and it became a massive fight. Later he revealed that he had helped a homeless woman, given her a ride, etc etc. I still do not fully believe the story, at all.

Beyond that: there’s behavior in this whole scenario that is just fucking weird: staying out until the next day; not checking in with me; hiding that this scenario had even happened etc. 

Y ended up leaving for a neighboring city for a few days and told me I needed to come up with some plans about how I would “improve” my behavior and deal with some of my issues. No consideration at all for his own weird ass behavior

-

& here’s the thing I’m trying to parse: I had many, many experiences in our relationship that caused me to have this gut-knot kind of feeling, this intuitive sense that his behavior was not okay or appropriate. when he would talk to me a certain way, make comments about other women’s bodies, get angry at me, or do shit like the above. So many times when my body was physically screaming THIS IS NOT OKAY. HE Is fucking UP and doing something inappropriate. But, more often than not: I would say nothing. I would conclude that there was something wrong with me, and that he was right. There are so many times in our marriage that he made me uncomfortable, upset etc. but I’d always circle back to believing he is right! you are wrong!

What I’m trying to figure out is: how did that pattern happen? why did I acquiesce so frequently to him? this is also notable because it is a behavior i exhibit a lot, almost all of the time, in my relationships with men.

so I am noting it because I would like to eradicate that trait: and to be able to stand up for and express myself in all areas of my life, especially in my relationships with men. if i ever have one again.

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Azusa Dark [06]

ー The scene starts in the big hall at Eden

Yui: Things only Azusa-kun can do, huh...?

I guess we really have to do as Ruki-kun says and hope that Azusa-kun will slowly but surely begin to understand the extends of his own capabilities and adapt his mentality...

Yuma: ...Nah, he’s wrong. While I do get where Ruki’s comin’ from, I don’t think that’ll be ‘nough.

Yui: Eh?

Yuma: What matters to Azusa most is whether he can prove himself useful to his family and ya, right?

Since he’s limited in the things he can do, wouldn’t it be way better to give him that sense of satisfaction from bein’ able to just that, rather than tryin’ to get him to make that connection inside his head?

Kou: I mean, it’s true that because of what happened in the past, Azusa-kun has a bad habit of always wanting to reconfirm his own value amongst his friends.

...Ah! Which means that as long as he can feel confident that he’s being there for us.

It might change his outlook a little and he’ll feel better again?

Yuma: There ya have it.

That bein’ said, I can’t think of a way to accomplish that, so I doubt it’ll be easy.

Kou: Right...

Yui: ( Something that’ll help him regain his confidence. I hope we can find something... )

Selection

→ Try thinking of something (❦)

Yui: ( I’ll try and come up with something myself. )

( I wonder what would help him regain confidence in himself...? )

→ Ask the two of them 

Yui: Do you guys have any ideas? Something that could help him regain confidence...

Kou: Hmー...

Yuma: We’re not great at that sorta thing like Ruki is...

Yui: ( Seems like I’ll have to come up with something instead. )

Yui: ...Ah!

Now that I think about it, Ruki-kun said that he’ll be going to the Sakamaki Castle tomorrow, right?

How about having Azusa-kun deliver something to him, for example...?

Yuma: Ya wanna ask Azusa to bring Ruki somethin’ he forgot?

Yui: Y-Yeah.

I’m sure Ruki-kun will say no if we bring it to him, so we’ll have to do it in secret but...

Kou: I like that idea! I agree!

Yuma: Yeah, me too. I’m pretty sure Azusa can handle goin’ to the Sakamaki Castle.

Besides, I’m pretty sure that helpin’ Ruki out will be a great opportunity for Azusa to gain some confidence in himself!

Kou: Our plan goes into action tomorrow then! Let’s all try our best for Azusa-kun’s sake!

Yui: Yes! Thanks, you two!

( I hope our plan goes well and it can cheer Azusa-kun up a little... )

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the entrance hall

Azusa: ...

Yui: ( I guess he’s still hung up over what happened yesterday... )

( But if the plan we came up with succeeds... )

Kou: We should get going soon, M-neko-chan.

Yui: Y-Yeah...

Yuma: Hey, Azusa. Got a minute right now?

Azusa: I do but...What’s wrong?

Kou: Listen, there’s something we really want to ask you.

Yui: Seems like Ruki-kun forgot to take something very important with him to the Sakamaki Castle.

So could you please deliver it to him?

Azusa: Eh...?

You want me to do it...?

Yuma: Don’t say that. You’re the perfect man for this job.

Kou: Exactly. We’ve kind of got our hands tied right now, and we can’t ask M-neko-chan to leave the Castle either.

That’s why we’d like to ask you. ...You don’t want to?

Azusa: No, I’ll go! Please...Let me go.

Kou: Really? Thanks! You’re helping us out a bunch!

*Rustle rustle* 

Kou: This is the thing Ruki-kun forgot. It’s very important so take good care of it, okay?

Yuma: We’re countin’ on ya, Azusa.

Azusa: ...Yes.

I’ll go after Ruki right away. I promise...I’ll make sure to deliver it to him.

Yui: Be careful out there, Azusa-kun.

Azusa: ...I’ll get going.

ー Azusa leaves

Yui: ( ...He’ll be okay, right? )

( He’s headed towards the Sakamaki Castle and Ruki-kun will be there as well. )

Monologue

ーー ‘I’ll get going’. 

Exactly, as he spoke those words to us,

the expression on his face,

was one of pure joy (嬉しそう). 

I suposse that this whole time,

he really just wanted for us to rely on him. 

Just like Ruki-kun said,

if we manage to find something,

which only Azusa-kun can do...

I hope that this can somehow help boost his confidence (自身).

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[decembersecond]

I keep remembering and I keep feeling like this – I wonder: will it ever stop?

I see myself standing and thinking and I’m lame and stupid. I’m a loser and then I just want to cry and hit something, or just yell, then I’d like to sit, watch and cry (figuratively) tears that won’t fall nor will make an appearance at all –because I can’t express emotions properly, but then I’ll feel like my chest is burning up for the love I have regarding my favorite characters–

I see others and I see myself and I think: “this person is actually worse than me,” but I stop and wander around an endless loop where I can’t figure out none of it. Because it seems and feels like my friends aren’t my friends, they’re there and sure they’re my friends, but they’re not quite my friends.

And the loneliness starts all over again and it’ll never be enough because, somehow, it’s never enough. Because when it was enough I let it go in a horrible way and it was all my fault. Or, how I like to think of it from time to time, that it was everyone’s fault, but because it doesn’t seem that way, and how it appears I’m always the one screwing up, it’s not; and it’s rightfully my fault. Just to feel better I like to think it wasn’t, because I cannot be that bad I hurt three awesome people at the same time, in an undeserving way.

There are some loose threads to this day, and I’m sure it’s been two years now. I keep dwelling in the past sometimes, not as often as I used to, but because I remember it’s why I start to ache once more.

I keep feeling different regarding my relationships, and how I cannot seem to wrap my head around the idea of “ties” (emotional, ties). Sure I have my family, and I have a good relationship with them, yet somehow they just feel, far away, at the same; and with my friends it’s worsen. It might have to be with the self-perception I have of myself, even without any ill-intention of hurting myself – It’s just to intricate to me I normalized labelling myself and perceiving myself as a “monster” and someone ”bad”, someone “incredibly bad”. And I was just a child who grew up by herself in the wrong places, hating herself.

Family doesn’t feel like family, and despite blood-ties unless they’re by my side they won’t be family because they’re not. My family is average but it’s only those who grew along side, not those who I barely know, and when I hear news about them it’s something not really pleasing.

Friends and acquaintances, but even when you can’t bear to be alone it feels like hell to be with them. Not because they’re boring or not your type person, but because it feels foreign. Because you feel like no matter how hard you try, you just can’t make a connection, and sure, you can’t make connections with everyone, but it’s not because of them but yourself; because you seem unable to do, even if you truly want to and do everything in your power to.

[chasing-rabbits]

,

The irony of how things never change. History really does repeat itself doesn’t it. All my life I’ve been told I’m not allowed to express my emotions because of how it’ll impact others. I’ve been made to feel guilty over them to the point that now as an adult anytime I express myself I feel bad like I’ve done something wrong or I feel such immense guilt I try to walk it back & apologise. Imagine that I’m apologising to someone who has hurt me, I’m apologising for telling them I’m upset. Nothing’s changed not really. I’m allowed to express how I feel now & I thought it was different but it’s not because it has rules and permissions. I am allowed to express how I feel more than I could as a child but not freely. I can express my sadness I can express when I’m upset but only if it’s not aimed at them. If I’m upset about something they did and me expressing it makes them feel bad it’s not allowed. I can’t say that they upset me because if I do I’m ruining their day I’m making their day bad I’m making them feel like an asshole. Because that’s the thing isn’t it I’m allowed to express how I feel but if I express sadness over something they’ve done I’m meant to feel bad and guilty & like a horrible person. I’m told how I’ve ruined their day that it’s my fault their day is ruined. I’m a bad person and they don’t want to hear it. I’m not making them feel like an asshole they are feeling like an asshole because of what upset me. I didn’t accuse or say anything to prompt it they feel that way because internally they are struggling they feel bad it’s not me and its not my fault. But now I might as well be stuck in my childhood home. I might as well have been told don’t express yourself Erin because you’ll ruin other people’s days I can’t talk ever about being sad & upset & hurt because god forbid my emotions my sadness that by the way is justifiable in this situation but it doesn’t matter if I should be sad I should be allowed to be sad it doesnt matter because if it ruins someone else’s day then I can’t speak. I’ll hide my sadness I’ll hide my emotions I’ll hide my struggles & I’ll bend over backwards just so you can always have a good day. Just so you can feel a little less guilt over it all because that isn’t me making you feel guilt that’s how you feel & everytime I express my feelings about this situation you dredge up your internal thoughts & struggle & guilt and you don’t want to feel that way so I don’t get to say how I feel. Because at the end of the day what matters? That you have a good day that I sit and be quiet and act all perfect so that you can feel good about yourself so you can have good days and I’ll have my bad ones in quiet in secret because I can’t upset anyone or rock the boat. Because just like my entire childhood my entire life nothing’s changed and it’s fucking ridiculous that I sit here and still use that language and believe it because it’s so ingrained in me. That I need permission that I have to defend myself by saying I should be ‘allowed’ to be sad. I shouldn’t need to ever be ‘allowed’ before I can feel something but yet I am. And that’s how it’ll always be.

[andtheghost]

01/09/24 - A map that might never get used

I feel like I’m running out of time. And I’ve felt like that quite a few times over the last few years but this time it feels different. And then I try to figure out if it always feels different but for some reason I can’t remember. But it just feels like something somewhere in me broke loose and it’s just floating around and it’s making its way to some vital organ and when it finds it, it’s just gonna slice through it and fucking end me.

I think I needed his talk today. It’s actually something I’ve been thinking about a lot. My inability to stick to anything. But also the recent realization that it’s OK if I don’t have a ‘personal style’ as an artist or whatever kind of creator thing I may be.

Everyone is all about finding their style or a technique that speaks to them or something. Which is fine, if that’s what you want to do and it makes you happy. But a lot of artists talk like not being able to develop a personal style or not having the style that’s in their head represented in their actual art, is some kind of failure.

And I’m over here, not able to stick to any single medium for more than a month.

I want to try sculpture. I keep getting this idea of using wire and building an armature using papier-mâché over it. Just something crazy and big and organic. I want to make something that takes up a whole room. Turn the room into a maze. And I want to try making candles and making clothes. Not even just the shirts, but I think it would be really cool to get a plain jean jacket and paint the back and the shoulders then make a bunch of cloth patches to put down the arms and the front.

I guess I have developed a style of sorts. Messy and throw together. Chaos. Which makes perfect sense actually because that describes part of me pretty well.

It’ll probably never make an aesthetically, pleasing body of work, but it’ll be all me. Or not.

Which is the other thing he mentioned, that we’re like wells. That people come for the water and they take what they need and they’ll see you through whatever lens they see you through. He says you’re the universe expressing itself. I prefer the term channeling. So me not being able to stick to something is maybe because everything is going through all at once all the time? Or maybe I’m just looking too far into it. Turning a weakness into something positive. Maybe my inability to follow through is just the price I pay for that? Or maybe I can learn to have some control over it?

But as of right now, I don’t know how to answer those questions and I think I should just accept it for the time being.

What I usually do is try to power through and finish something that I just have no interest in anymore and I kill my creativity for the next month. So maybe I should just let it go and move onto the next thing and leave 1000 different little unfinished projects behind me. Which is really what I end up with anyway. I don’t really see any difference except if I just keep going with whatever I want to do I’m not going to have those bouts of empty nothingness in between where I stare at the wall all day and feel useless and sorry for myself.

But it still feels inherently wrong to just leave things behind and not even try to finish them. Or maybe I’ve been taught that’s wrong by people who benefit from me being stuck. Constant productivity. If you don’t finish, you’re just wasting time. I wonder who came up with that idea.

I want to be honest about it. I want people to know it’s OK to not finish. Of course I could be wrong and I don’t really want to mislead people but I don’t know. I think it’s really the process that matters right? I can kind of see it coming together I think. I am a disaster for a reason.

I don’t need to go south, but I do want to.

Anyway. I still feel like I’m running out of time. So I’ll use whatever time I have left sharing everything I can as uncensored as possible and know that the people who need it will find it when they’re ready for it.

I’m not sure if I’ll go to Florida. I want to and I feel like it’s the right thing to do, maybe, but also I’m not sure. And if I am running out of time, am I going to regret not leaving when I’m dead? I doubt it. But I’m pretty sure the very few people who care about me would be upset if I were 1000 miles away when I died. So I don’t know anymore.

Also I’ve felt like this before. Kind of.

What if my heart beats for another 40, 50 years but I never live a second of it because I’m always thinking it’s the end?

[thenasoneshots]

FandomMas 2023 Day 5 - Athena

Fandom: Ace Attorney Prompt: “It’s bold of you to assume I haven’t eaten my entire advent calendar.” Reader's Relations: None

Other Notes: Sorry I didn’t post one yesterday, I didn’t have any ideas and by the time I got around to when I would normally write them (before I got to sleep) it was already late, so I just wanted to sleep, but I will try to write two today.

“(Y/n)……” “Yes, Athena?” I replied, turning to face her, and looking up from the case file I was reading through. “Why are advent calendar chocolates so small?” She wined, sitting down next to me on the sofa in the agency, stretching herself over my lap, causing me to giggle, as I started to stroke my fingers through her hair gently, “I don’t know, Athena, but I’ll have a bet it’s because they’re meant for small children, and said children normally want to open them before breakfast and chocolate isn’t a good breakfast food.” “But chocolate’s so good! Why can’t they be bigger?” “You’ll just have to put up with it, Athena. There’s nothing I can do about it, did you remember to open today’s door?” “Of course. It’s bold of you to assume I haven’t eaten the entire thing already.” I giggled to myself, “How did I guess you already did that? And before you ask, no you’re not getting any of mine!” “You’re my favourite person, (Y/n)!” I rolled my eyes again, feeling my face turn slightly pink as I chuckled trying to conceal it, knowing she was just trying to butter me up to get my chocolate, “That isn’t going to work, Athena. You’re not going to get any of mine, no matter how much you try to butter me up.” “That’s not what I was trying to do!” “Sure… I don’t believe you, Athena.” “Oh come on!” My head shot up immediately at the outburst from Trucy, causing her to squeak, “Polly, look at this scene again and tell me they’re not dating!” My face turned bright red at the statement from Trucy as Apollo turned to look as well, “Trucy, if they were dating I’m sure we’d know by now. Athena’s just being herself.” “Hey!” “Hmph. Well then, I’m sure Daddy agrees with me.” “Unfortunately, Trucy, I’m with Apollo on this. We’d all know if (Y/n) and Athena were dating.” “But just look at the scene! The fact that Athena is letting (Y/n) rake her hands through her hair is proof enough! Athena’s expressed several times before that she doesn’t like anyone touching her hair, yet she’s not protesting to (Y/n) raking her hands through it!” Trucy spoke out, sitting down.

I was still trying to get rid of the blush on my face when I quickly removed my fingers from Athena’s hair, “Trucy, please stop. You can’t force two people to be dating by just willing it into existence. Especially when you don’t even know how they feel about each other, or if they’re dating other people.”

“(Y/n)! Take this off my head now!” Athena protested as I refused to untie the blindfold from over her eyes. “Nope! It’ll ruin the surprise if I do!” I replied as I booped her on the nose, sitting down on the sofa opposite her, taking out my guitar that I’d been gifted as a birthday present, before giving a nod to Trucy who bounced over and removed the blindfold from Athena’s head as I started singing, “We're far apart, in every way, but you're the best part of my day and sure as I breathe the air, I know we are the perfect pear. On a prickly path that goes on for miles, but it's worth it just to see you smile and I cannot be pulled apart from the hold you have on my heart and even if the world tells us it's wrong, you're in my head like a catchy song. The seasons change, and leaves may fall, but I'll be with you through them all and rain or shine, you'll always be mine. On a prickly path that goes on for miles. You're the only one who makes it all worthwhile and you should not blame me too, if I can't help fallin' in love with you,” as I finished singing, I felt my face turn bright red and I looked up at Athena to see her face the same colour, but before I could say anything, she’d pounced on me and kissed me. I blinked, not expecting her to feel the same, but I wrapped my arms around her, kissing back before breaking off when I remembered the others in the Agency. “Polly, you owe me!” “What?! Oh come on, Trucy, that’s not fair, you knew they liked each other. You were the one who orchestrated this whole confession!” “You still lost the bet, Polly, hand over the money!” Trucy persisted, holding out her hands towards Apollo. At this point I was too busy laughing at Apollo’s face to get mad at the two of them for betting on mine and Athena’s relationship, as Apollo begrudgingly took out a note, placing it in Trucy’s hands. She pocketed it and smirked, looking back at me and Athena, “Oh yeah, I bet Polly that you two would be together by the end of the year, and looks like I won by a week.” —------------------END OF ONESHOT Again, sorry for not posting yesterday, but I’ll get today’s written as well before I go to sleep.

[likeapray3r]

Thinking about how my ex cornered me into having a conversation about how much I would be able to pay her hourly when I was literally at my worst and could barely even provide for myself, which I said, which I openly expressed I was stressed about, and continued to push me for an answer until I got visibly upset after saying over and over that I didn’t know if it was the right time… when I had just moved. when I just had my whole life flipped upside down for her. when I was just trying to focus on getting myself back up on my feet. continually pushing me over and over again. I remember feeling so upset, and wondering why the person who claimed to love me so much wanted to see me so stressed out all for their own benefit. If the roles were reversed I would’ve never done that, not now and not in a million years. Abuse takes many shapes and forms. I know now that I was just seen for what I could provide, and how much she could benefit from. So when my ability to carry myself continuously got weathered down by the quiet abuse, I was no longer deemed beneficial. Aka why I was on my way to getting discarded. The discard would always begin when I started speaking up for myself about how unhappy I was due to her actions and how she treated me, all of which she never owned up. The least a human can do before they throw you out, they can own up how wrong they treated someone. Instead roles were reversed and I was the abuser … to someone who took and took from me in many ways throughout 4 years, overtaking my life and my self-hood, hijacking my existence and hoovering me when she had a new supply… which are all abusive. I’m not a perfect person and as a matter of fact I know I’m fucked up… but I know for a fact I would’ve never subjected anyone to any of this. I would’ve never strung someone along, had silent competition with someone I claimed to be in love with, held secret animosity to someone I planned a life with, and I would never not own up for what I have done and the roles I’ve played. The embarrassment of being back with an abuser, not wanting to tell anyone about what really was happening because you hope it’ll be different this time. The embarrassment of admitting you think you deserve to stay somewhere you are not loved. It is all so heavy. I’ve seen this story play out in my own family… and I was so blind. The quick relief that comes with convincing myself that I’m over it, that I have many crushes, that I can move on any time, that I am capable of everything - which a few are true to a point (I know I’m capable because I’ve seen the proof before)—over the grueling truth that the abuse and the marks of it live deeply inside of me, that aren’t easy to let go of, that are inflicted within. That I cannot imagine bringing anyone into the reality that is -I am deeply wounded. I am not a perfect partner right now, for anyone, but myself, and I’m not sure when that will change. I have subjected myself to back to back abuse —because I grew up thinking that was normal, that sticking through no matter what was the highest and noble thing to do. To sacrifice myself for a narcissist who cannot ever accept that i’m me, that you shouldn’t want to dictate how my life goes-from the media I intake, the friends that I keep, the hobbies that I love, the time that I need for me, the love languages that make me feel loved. To be abused over and over again in such silent ways to the point I felt like I had no grasp on reality. The seeds that were laid in my mind-that I had to perform to gain “back” the respect of those in her circle… when I’ve been the one getting abused the entire time. When I have turned my head to people who I’ve loved for years due to the embarrassment of letting them know how my inner life was going (my best friend since high school especially) , I’ve detached from everything I had built for myself—for someone who wants me to dance like I’m a cheap puppet for their entertainment. To make their life look better, and most importantly play the role that was set out for me. To deny me of my perspective, to deny me.

[mizata]

The final profession of love

Dear you,

It's been a great 2 and a half years and i know it's been chock full of ups and downs, but that's life innit?

I can confidently say with 98.9% confidence that there've been more ups than downs, but this is the culmination of every moment we've been together.

I've seen you at your lowest, and i've seen you at your best, and there's so much to love about you, no matter what state you're in.

From improving communication skills with friends and family, to stepping out of your comfort zones to meet new people or challenge yourself career-wise. There has been so much objective growth and it's amazing.

There are so many qualities about you that i admire, be it the discipline to wake up everyday despite mental heaviness, or cultivating healthy habits for food or exercise. This was always something that i lacked myself and i was hoping to one day achieve that same level of self-discipline.

I've learnt so much about other necessary life skills like managing money, maintaining some semblance of cleanliness in the room, and traveling pointers. These are things that i never handled personally and i am eternally grateful for the opportunity to learn this through my time with you.

As i type this my eyes are welling up (for the 15th time today) and i may end up ugly crying and yelling into the very blanket that we iron out every day, but i know that this was necessary because it would not be fair to you (and to extent, us) if i let this continue.

I want to hold on to my principle of never having to lie to you. Not just because it's wrong morally and it's not the way mama raised me, but because lying here is the blade that causes the most hurt. And you've been hurt like that one too many times. You've been through so many struggles (most of which you had to deal with on your own), and i do not wish to be another person who disrespects you as a person with very real feelings and emotion.

You are incredibly precious and i wish i could take that night back, but i cant.

I cannot claim to understand how you're feeling now, or how you will be feeling in time to come, but i know that it'll get better in time. I too am still figuring out how to move forward with all this and i can only pen this down and process this carefully. This would be the first time i've had let someone so close to me go under such circumstances.

As i sieve through memories and memorabilia, i am yeeted back to the time where life was a lot simpler. We were both in hospitals, we were both excited to learn about each other and bringing the best out of each other. I will always cherish the little moments of weekend mornings, the times we danced to various genres of music, the times either of us stood at the doorway when the other had to leave for work, the moments that made my heart flutter, and the constant expressions of affection towards one another.

We made many plans and discussed the future in so many ways, and i've tried to be the better man for you. Of all the times i have failed you, this would definitely be my greatest failure. The last thing i wanted to do was make you feel any less than what you are, but i know that had happened regardless. Nothing i say now will change that fixed moment in time.  

There are so many things i wish i could say irl.

I wish i could say all of this (and more) to your face as you (probably) start to tear up (and so will i) because i want you to know how special you are to me.

I don't know if i should send this to you or just leave this here for you to chance upon for fear of hindering your healing, so i'll err on the side of caution and just leave this be.

I hope we can be allowed to still be friends (despite the opinion of some that we should stay separate), but if fate decides otherwise, then i have to accept it too.

You've taught me to live a little more, love a little harder, and be a better person overall.

Thank you. For letting me love you.

May you always have minimal pee and maximul rest bbkeks.

[christas-museum]

The Child Manuela: Mädchen in Uniform book (new translation)

CHAPTER 2: I

For more parts (updates are at least once a week), click #The Child Manuela translation

"Yes, my dear Meinhardis, now that is a horrible thing." The old colonel shakes the ash off his fat cigar by his little fingers. He leans back and looks at his counterpart. Meinhardis also puffs thick clouds of smoke, he blinks, and looks out of the window. He does not like to look in the face of his superior who shouldn't notice how moody Meinhardis is. It itself was quite friendly that the colonel had summoned him to inform him personally about his transfer.

"This Mühlberg is an awful garrison," the colonel continues. "The wastepaper basket of the whole German army, so to say. They're all criminals, and now they want a decent person to straighten out the vermins. Their choice there, at the green table, fell on you, of all people. Great honour, of course, and advancement and bigger salary. But beautiful? Beautiful is different."

Meinhardis makes a movement that means something like, orders are orders. And Colonel von Merkel speaks further,

"The lads supposed to have played up. They do only stupid things. Whenever somebody has done something wrong, they send him to the border—old story. Bad luck, old exotic, my heartfelt condolences. But you'll show the gang what a rake is."

Meinhardis feels he's dismissed, he rises,

"Thank you very much, Mr. Colonel, it was very kind of Mr. Colonel . . . These things happen; it could have been even worse. I'll go home and tell my wife . . . Women, for them that's just . . . Well, I don't want to become soft! I recommend myself, Mr. Colonel!"

His spurs clink together. He holds the cap in his left hand, the older one grabs his right one and shakes it vigorously.

"Well, chin up, Meinhardis! It'll be all right!"

Outside, Meinhardis buckle in his sabre, and as he sees himself accidentally in the mirror, he adjusts his collar by his hand. Now he will soon no longer wear a red collar. The uniform is off now. Now comes another. Light blue and white. Ridiculous. White collars always get dirty, and walk around in light blue is awful when one is used to do duty and ride in dark green. Riding in light blue, grotesque, he thinks moodily. The uniform is much more expensive than the old one. Certainly.And the move. Poor Käte! He buys a bunch of daisies and cornflowers from the flower woman— mother likes to have them—look so much like from Pöchlin.

Frau Käte calmly accepted this expected transfer, as she did everything that could not be changed. She knew well what it meant to move to that town, that had been on enemy territory only few years ago. Vaguely, she also had the feeling that she was not heading for happy time. But she didn't want to make her husband's heart heavier than necessarily. She had time still. He would go ahead and look for home. And then such a strange calm had now come over her. She wasn't completely there any more. She went to church even more often than she had always done, she went alone and returned every time with a deeply satisfied expression. Her eyes were looking inward, towards a goal invisible to everybody. It made her kind, patient and almost serene. With a matter of fact, she set about liquidating the house. Little Lela went silently like a shadow behind her.

Then came the last day. Thoughtfully, Frau Käte wandered from room to room. She stopped for a long time in front of the window where Ali's desk had stood. Then Lela saw her take her hat and gloves, also some flowers she had bought in the morning. "Mum, shall I go with you to Ali's?" asked Lela who was aware what time it was, but Frau Käte bent down and looked the child in the eye. For the first time she kept the deeply sad mouth, the astonished suffering look, without any attempt to give the child a tender smile.  Seriously, she said,

"No, Lela. Today I must go all alone, I must bid Ali goodbye; now Ali remains here alone, all alone. Without me."

Lela followed her to the garden door and saw Mother striding quickly and determinedly up the street, like somebody who knows they are expected.

Lela could no longer play today. She took Flink by the collar and put his head on her lap. A strange sad happiness rose inside of her. Today Mother had spoken to her as if Lela were an adult; it was a secret, and Lela would not tell anyone in the world.

[kumoriyami-xiuzhen]

Hakuoki Drama CD Book Vol 5 Saito

*sigh* as much as i prefer cooler weather, i don’t like the transition between summer and fall. always tend to get sick and half-feverish for some reason when the temperature fluctuates between hot and cool.

anyway, enjoy!

Hakuoki Drama CD Book Vol 5 Saito Hajime-hen - Summer Morning

Translation by KumoriYami

Act 1

Time: Night

Location: Saito and Chizuru's living room

SE: the sound of Saito opening a door

Yukimura: Hajime-san. I've brought tea.

Saito: Ah, thank you... in addition to the tea, there's also yokan?

SE: sound of Saito walking then sitting down

Yukimura: Yes, they were given by the neighbour. Please eat.

SE: Sound of Chizuru putting the tea down

Saito: Well, I must express my thanks to them tomorrow.

Yukimura: Ah...

Saito: What is it?

Yukimura: Hajime-san, show me your sleeve for a moment

Saito: My sleeve...?

SE: the sound of Saito lifting up his arm

Yukimura: As expected, it's torn. I'm really sorry I didn't notice it. I'll sew it up immediately. I'll get you a change of clothes for now.

Saito: There's no need, with this extent of a rip/tear, it doesn't matter if you mend it later.

Yukimura: That won't do, how can you wear such clothes

Saito: But...it's about time to go to bed. It's only been one night, this sleeve won't cause any problems.

Yukimura: No. Even though we'll just be going to sleep, I don't know if anything will happen, so please, lent me take that and mend it now, it'll be quick

Saito:......

Yukimura:....? Why did you suddenly freeze?

Saito: No, I suddenly just remembered that something like this happened before.

Yukimura: Eh.... At what time/When?

Saito: Don't you remember. It was at the time... it was something that happened while we were still in the Shinsengumi.

Yukimura: Something from when we were still in the Shinsengumi...?

Saito: You don't remember. Nn, it's no wonder. After all, it hadn't soon after you came to the Shinsengumi.

Yukimura:....I really don't remember. If Hajime-san tells me about it, I might be able to recall it.

Saito: Alright. It's nice to occasionally to look back. Then——

--------

Act 2

Time: Morning

Location: Shinsengumi headquarters (Yagi's)

Saito (narrated): I remember that it was summer, just like it is now.  I had just finished my training by myself and was preparing to go over to the well to wipe off my sweat, and as I was passing through the courtyard——

SE: Sound of Saito walking

SE: Sound of Chizuru running

Yukimura: Ha ah, hah.... ah, Saito-san! I finally found you... good morning!

Saito:...Can I help you?

Yukimura: I came to tell you that breakfast is ready.

Saito: Understood. I'll go after I head over to the well and wipe down my sweat. Yukimura: Okay...

Saito: Is there something else?

Yukimura: Ah, no... Okita-san said that you would be training in the morning, but I didn't think you'd be using a real sword...

Saito: When training by myself, I always use a real sword instead of a wooden sword. By doing this, you can not only have an experience that is closer to actual combat, and feel your own strength too.

Yukimura:...Um, may I ask you a question?

Saito:...Whether or not I can answer depends on the question, since that's the case, ask.

Yukimura: When Saito-san picks up a sword, do you feel lost/confused?

Saito: I cannot say never, but that has not happened since I've become a member of the Shinsengumi

Yukimura: But drawing your sword means that someone will get injured, or perhaps die... Why are you able to accomplish this without getting lost?

Saito: For the sake of carrying out my own beliefs and ambitions...  And, as long as it is to protect the Shinsengumi's way forward, I will not hesitate to wield my sword. Regardless if I have to sacrifice my own life.

Yukimura:...

Saito: Why did you suddenly ask such a thing?

Yukimura: Ah... I'm sorry that I keep asking you questions. Um, recently I was thinking... what it is I wanted to do... and felt lost.... then... when I saw Saito-san, I felt like I was lacking something... Ah/Yes.

Saito:...? What's wrong?

Yukimura: That, Saito-san... the sleeve of your jacket [im guessing haori] is torn.

Saito: Oh... these are just clothes for training. It will be replaced soon, so it doesn't matter.

Yukimura: If it's possible, can that be given to me to sew?

Saito: I'm grateful that you're willing to do this, but I can do it myself, you don't need to help.

Yukimura: But...

Saito: I've said a lot. I'll be going over to the well to wipe my sweat, you should go back first.

Yukimura: Please wait!

Saito: Is there something else?

Yukimura: Um, would you be inconvenienced if I said that I wanted to help mend that sleeve anyway?

Saito:....

Yukimura: Please allow me to do so. Please!

Saito:...There is no reason to refuse your request twice. Yukimura: Thank you! Then I'll go and pick it up from you after breakfast.

Saito: Nn.

Saito (narrated): That was the first time I noticed your eyes. Seeing your earnest face while you made that request, I didn't know how to respond. After, I quickly learned the reason for you insisted.

--------

Act 3

Time: evening

Location: Shinsengumi headquarters, Saito's room

Yukimura: Saito-san, is now convenient?

Saito: Yes. Come in.

Yukimura: Excuse me.

SE: Sound of Chizuru opening the door

Yukimura: I've mended the garment, so I came to give it to you.

Saito: Apologies, permit me to inspect it.

Yukimura: Okay.

SE: Sound of clothes being picked up

Saito: Nn, it would appear that the clothes were mended well, I'm grateful, thank you.

Yukimura: No, I'm... thank you.

Saito: Why are you thanking me?

Yukimura: Saito-san seriously answered my rude question, so, this is my thanks.

Saito:...

Yukimura: Saito-san? What is it?

Saito:  You mean you didn't propose to sew my sleeve for me out of your own volition?

Yukimura: I don't think it's the same. Everyone in the Shinsengumi is helping me find my father, and is [also] taking care of me, but I have nothing I can give in return. That's why, if there's at least something that I can do...

Saito: You don't need to worry about this so much.

Yukimura: But I, it would be very painful if I did nothing. Please let me help... I also want to make a difference too.

Saito: Is this why you said those words this morning?

Yukimura:  Yes. It doesn't matter if it's something small, as long as it can help everyone... I think that if there's something I can help with, I should be able to become everyone's strength.

Saito:....I see. I feel as if I've always been thinking that there was something off about how you were lately, I didn't expect it to be like this... I appear to have underestimated your abilities.

Yukimura: Eh...?

Saito: This morning, your eyes were very determined. There is more than one way to protect, some people use force to protect people, and some people rely on support to protect people. Just as you said, what you can do may be something small, but sometimes it can turn into a huge force.

Yukimura: I also have things that I can do... is it?

Saito: Nn. But I would not dare to make any assertions.

Yukimura:...

Saito: If your resolve isn't strong enough, the circumstances may somewhat change in the future. Just stick to what you believe in, however...

���村千鹤：……？ Yukimura:...?

Saito: Forgive my bluntness, the Shinsengumi is a dangerous place for you to be in. You must bear in mind that thoroughly understanding the organization's inner workings [word I have here is inside story/inside information] can be dangerous.

Yukimura: Yes...! Thank you very much, Saito-san.

Saito: One thank you is enough.

Yukimura: Ah. Okay, thank you!

Saito:....Nn.

Saito (narrated): Perhaps, since the first time I met you and that day, I had looked into your eyes while neglecting the strong will behind them. Your sincerity touched me at that time, and I profoundly remembered it.

--------

Act 4

Time: evening

Location: Saito and Chizuur's living room

Yukimura: I'm sorry. After listening to you speak, I finally remembered.

Saito: Don't you think that this was very similar to what just happened?

Yukimura: Indeed, it's quite similar. At the beginning, I suggested that I mend your sleeve...

Saito: It's not only that day, but as long as you and I are together, from time to time, I will always think of each day I spent with you and everyone in the Shinsengumi, will always think of every day spent with you and everyone in the new selection group, these memories are treasures that slumber in my heart/thoughts.

Yukimura: I often recall those times. While I was still in Kyoto... when I went from Edo to Aizu... but I most often recall the day I had a great time trying to find that cat at headquarters and when I went to Shimabara... I often recall everyone's smiles and laughter of everyone from those times.

Saito: Yes. I'm very happy now, but it's not bad to occasionally reminisce about the past.

Yukimura: Nn. If you think about something again, you can always tell me.

Saito; Ah, but I also want to hear from you, if you remember something special

Yukimura: Of course, there are still things that Hajime-san doesn't know about

Saito: Things I don't know about? This is the first time I've heard that. Like what sort of things?

Yukimura: For example... even if you suddenly say that... there are more important things that that right now. I'll go get you a change of clothes, so wait [here].

SE: Sound of Chizuru leaving

Saito: Ah, hey! You still haven't changed.

Saito (narrated): Memories of the past, is it. If would be nice if I only recalled beautiful memories like tonight, but I can't forget those painful memories, because that was the path she and I walked together. The happiness I feel now is also an extension of those times.

Starring: Saito Hajime... Toriumi Kosuke

[mercy-burning]

Your Favorite — Part 1

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: When Y/N comes home from college for the summer to meet her mom's new boyfriend, she finds herself in a rather tough spot when she can’t stop thinking about him— And it seems he feels the same... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Adults w/ age gap, masturbation (female and male), minor exhibitionism kink, oral sex (male receiving), penetrative sex, breeding kink (kinda? i think? 😅) Word Count: 7.3k (do you see now why I had to make it a miniseries? alsdjfdk)

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | MASTERLIST

DISCLAIMER: In this story, Spencer is dating Y/N’s mom while also having a sexual relationship with the reader herself. Because of that, there are obvious undertones of cheating, alongside some perv-y tendencies when it comes to a partner’s daughter. That being said, Spencer and Y/N’s relationship is consensual. However— If any of what I just forewarned is something that you think will make you uncomfortable while reading, please do not read! If there are any more disclaimers you think I may have missed, don’t hesitate to tell me! There is another post I made HERE with some disclaimers as well if you want to know more about what this story will entail.

NOTE: This intro is already too long, so I’ll just get this out of the way: you can find visual nsfw inspirations for this story over at @mercy-midnight, I’m working on a playlist for this story on my Spotify @/mercyburning, and I don’t know when part 2 and 3 will be out, but you can assume they’ll be here within the next few weeks.

———

JUNE 5th

I hate my mom's new boyfriend.

For the past three months she'd been telling me about this new guy who's "The One" as if "The One" hasn't been like four other guys in the past two years.

And as much as I'd love for my mom to find someone to spend the rest of her life with, I don't believe she'd ever find Mr. Perfect at this rate. Unless she spent more than a few months with them at a time before dragging me home from college for a weekend to meet them, I really don't see it happening.

It just sucks. Because every time she does this, every time I return home, I see the glimmering hope in her eyes and the diminishing spark in his, and I know. I know it won't last, and her heart will be utterly broken within the span of a few months.

I always thought maybe she just had terrible taste in men.

But this time around, when I begrudgingly walk through the door of my childhood home for the summer and see my mother clinging to a man who returns that glimmer in her eyes, I know she's picked a good one.

And I hate him.

His name is Spencer Reid, and he's a retired FBI agent who teaches full time at local colleges now.

He greets me with a bona fide, radiant smile, unlike all the others before, and it sets my insides on fire. And when we sit down for dinner, he's polite (but not in a fake way,) and he seems genuinely curious about my studies and my personality and my relationship with my mother. And when dinner is finished he offers to clean up while Mom and I settle in the living room.

I see the way he looks at me as I leave, a gentle, closed-mouth smile and eyes that linger a little too long on my exposed legs before averting, a glint of shame pooling within them, and it only spreads that fire in my belly.

Maybe I'd been imagining the whole thing, because deep down I wanted him to look at me the way he had... But it's hard to tell when my brain is mostly setting off sirens, blaring "THIS IS WRONG! THIS IS WRONG!" on a loop with blinding lights.

And they're even louder when my mom wraps her arm around me and lays her head atop mine. "Well, what do you think? He's great, huh?"

She's so lovesick, it hurts. It hurts even worse knowing that all I can think about is his big hands wrapped around my throat while he fucks me into the squeaky twin-sized mattress in my bedroom upstairs.

But I can't tell her that, obviously.

And so I decidedly hate him. And I have no choice but lie to her face, embracing her joy and hoping that I'll be able to survive this summer.

"Yeah, Mom. He's really great."

JUNE 19th

It's been two weeks and I can barely stand to be in the same house anymore.

I try to keep myself busy by going outside, to the beach or for long walks in the park; but it's too hot for my liking, and our town is so small that unless I want to spend my time in the grocery store or one of the three bars on Main Street...

I'm stuck either outside where it's hot and uncomfortable, or in the house where it's also hot and uncomfortable.

We have air conditioning, of course, but that's not the problem.

It's Spencer.

I thought by now my little crush on him would have gone, but the longer he hangs around the house, the stronger my feelings for him grow. They're not romantic—nor do I think they ever could be given the fact that if anything serious really were to ever happen between us, my mom would disown me for the rest of my life and murder Spencer with her bare hands—but that doesn't make it any easier on me.

Every day he just exists, right in front of me with that tug-able mop of hair, those warm honey eyes, and his hands that never stop moving. I swear, it's like every time he breathes, his hands are breathing too, challenging me to try and stop them.

But I refuse to touch him. Because I know the moment I do, all will be lost. I won't be able to control myself anymore. And if I don't drop to my knees and try sucking his dick at the dinner table, I'm sure I'll blurt out how I can't handle it anymore and that I need him, and either way I'd be royally fucked.

Right now he's in the dining room, teaching my mom how to do a disappearing card trick. She thinks it's utterly charming that he can do it at all, but mostly that he's patient and willing enough to teach her. And normally I'd agree, but I can barely look at them without wanting to waltz over, grab his wrist, and suck his fingers into my mouth.

It's truly pathetic.

So I try to focus on the television just a few feet away. It's one of those rare instances where I wish our house was bigger, because while I don't mind having less wall-space between rooms, I do mind not being able to watch TV without the kitchen table in my periphery at a time like this. And I think about going up to my bedroom instead for a moment, but I'd have to go past the kitchen, and I just know Mom is going to ask if I'd want Spencer to teach me his magic trick.

And I most definitely do not want that.

In another life, maybe, where he isn't a hot professor and rather an average-looking dude who's way too into fantasy football... But not in this lifetime.

So there I sit, concentrating so hard on Family Feud that my face hurts.

When I hear a flutter of cards and joyous giggling from the other room, it's more than my face that hurts.

It's also my chest, churning and tensing at the hands of the green devil.

Fuck!

I barely even know this man... I haven't really talked to him because I'm afraid that if I try to hold a conversation I'll snap. He's literally just some hot older guy who's dating my mom, and still, my whole body twists and aches with envy when they do anything together, and it fucking sucks. Not only because of the jealousy, but it's also the fact that my mom deserves to be happy.

This time it's different. This time, she's really found someone who returns her every loving gaze, who makes her laugh, who's kind and genuine and not a total douche. She's happier than I've seen her in years.

And the one time she finally finds "The One", every waking second of my life is spent longing for him fuck me.

But it's only been two weeks.

And it's also been nearly two years since I got laid, so maybe that's just my issue...

I figure it can't hurt, so in a spur of the moment decision, I turn the TV off and sprint towards the stairs, right past Mom and Spencer before they can ask questions.

———

I hardly even register the dimness of the light inside the house by the time I glide up the steps, fumbling with the key and trying to make my entrance as quiet as possible. Though, because I'm so used to the dark by this point, the light—no matter how dim—nearly blinds me. The door shuts louder than I'd have liked, and I cringe inwardly, pausing as if that will keep anyone from seeing or hearing me. Not like it'll matter, considering Mom and Spencer are the only ones that are staying here and they'd also been the only ones aware of my plans for the evening.

Well, somewhat, anyway. I told them an old friend invited me out and I probably wouldn't be home until late.

Regardless, that instinct of trying not to get caught coming in late at night is stronger than common sense. Throw a little cheap beer and some shots into the mix, and it almost feels like I'm a teenager again.

The only thing different now is that I have a pool of some stranger's cum soaking my underwear and a man in front of me who stands like an angel. An exhausted, almost scruffy-looking angel more like, but my point still stands.

"You're up late," Spencer observes. It's a simple enough statement— not really judge-y, but I can tell that regardless of his knowledge of my coming home late, he seems shocked to see me coming through the front door right now.

And it's hard to look away from him. Just like it has been for the past two weeks. Still, I try, just barely avoiding his eyes as I cross my arms and fight the urge to clench my legs together. "I'm a whore. What's your excuse?"

Maybe not the best thing to say. But like I said, common sense? Gone.

"O—oh... Umm..." Spencer stumbles through his words, obviously stunned by my response, and the look in his eyes kind of makes me want to curl up in a ball and die from embarrassment. Still, I stand my ground and wait for him to continue.

He settles on a short, "I can't sleep," and then there's nothing else.

"Ah," I express. One syllable. I don't draw it out, I don't exaggerate it... This is the first real conversation I've had alone with him, and I've made it extremely awkward, so I sigh and take a few steps forward, trying to walk past him. "Okay. Goodnight."

I only make it a few steps before he stops me, his hand reaching out to tap my shoulder. "Wait—"

The touch makes me jump, and he pulls it away immediately as I turn to face him. My heart is racing at the speed of light, my panties are soaked through, and if I'm not careful that whole 'no common sense' thing is going to bite me so hard in the ass I won't have one left.

"Can I talk to you?" His voice is barely audible, and the gentle rasp it has to it seems to make me even more wet.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

"Look, I um... Your mom has been totally transparent with me about her relationships, so I know that she's been through a lot of them in a short amount of time... And I know that must be a little difficult for you. Especially now that I'm here... And you've been... distant. And I know that I don't know you that well, so forgive me if I'm assuming anything, but I just want you to know that I don't have any intention of making things difficult for you and your mother."

Too late, pal, I think bitterly, the gentle authority in his tone setting my insides alight. I'm positive that voice could get me to do so many things...

That's the alcohol and sex talking, Y/N, just shake it and move on...

He starts again, but I cut him off with a short wave of my hand. "Look, I... I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I had a really long night, and I'm exhausted. I just wanna shower and go to bed."

I expect more resistance, but Spencer only nods. I still can't bring myself to look him in the eye, though this time I catch his hands clenching at the bottom hem of his shirt. "I understand. Sleep well."

Without another word I turn on my heel and walk a little faster towards the stairs, and I'm about to take my first step when I realize he's followed me. His voice calls out my name softly from a few feet behind, and it stops me in my tracks regardless of my desire to get out of there as fast as I can. And then I turn around and finally look directly at his face.

Big mistake.

His eyes are on my legs again, trailing slowly upwards until he reaches my face. The light over here is dimmer, barely noticeable at all, though I swear I can see red forming on his cheeks.

"I like your dress," he says softly. It's almost meek, like he'd been afraid to say it but took a chance anyway.

It's such a random, small compliment, but with the alcohol and endorphins flowing through my body after the night I'd just had, it nearly makes me quiver.

It also makes me incredibly stupid.

An amused, almost sensual grin forms on my face as I make eye contact with him, and I feel myself throb at the way I can just barely see his throat move. He looks like a deer in headlights, afraid to make one sudden move.

"Turning to flattery to try and win me over, are we?" I say slowly.

I almost think he'll stumble over his words once more, but again he surprises me with a full answer. It's only three words but it's clear, and his voice is deep, and I want to fucking jump his bones right then and there.

"Is it working?"

This has to be the alcohol making me imagine things... I swear I didn't even drink that much tonight, but it has to be an obvious lapse in judgement. The drinking mixed with the sex mixed with the dirty thoughts I've been having about this man lately have to be what's making this feel real. It's all culminating into this one big fantasy (or delusion, more like), and all I need is to shower and sleep it off.

That has to be it.

So because there's no other reasonable explanation that my brain can conjure up, I take a chance and throw Spencer a wink before turning and sprinting up the stairs.

And it's that same seemingly undeniable reasoning for this illusion that doesn't keep my hands from wandering in the shower. Even though those warning sirens in my brain keep blaring, telling me that the common sense is still there for me to utilize, they're drowned out by my thrumming heartbeat and the repetition of Spencer's soothing, authoritative voice, guiding my movements.

Keep rubbing your clit for me, baby... Just like that, nice and slow...

Warm water cascades down the front of my body as I lean back into the wall of the shower, but that's not why I'm so warm. This heat radiates through my insides, spreading like wildfire and bringing out small whimpers and mewls that I know I'll have to contain in fear of waking my mom from her bedroom right next door.

But then the thought of her hearing me next door as I cry out her boyfriend's name only excites me more. I keep it quiet still, but just knowing that someone else is in the house while I'm having these thoughts right now (one of them being the object of said thoughts) is what finally brings me over the edge.

I finish my shower on weak legs, definitely overstimulated now, but also feeling even more tired. I know that the moment I lay down on my bed, I'll be pulled into the sweet, soft surrender of a deep sleep.

Nothing else has ever sounded so pleasant.

———

When I woke up that morning after, I was feeling surprisingly calm. Realistically I knew that my whole 'this has to be an illusion' montage had been less truth and more inebriated babble, and the longer I sat on it the more I thought it'd all turned out for the better.

Turns out, tipsily masturbating in the shower to thoughts of your mom's hot new boyfriend was a surefire way to get it out of your system, right?

Wrong.

It really had been okay at first. I thought about Spencer almost immediately, and yeah, he was still hot as fuck—But there wasn't this overwhelming desire within me to jump his bones when I saw him that morning, his hair messy and his hands clutching a cup of coffee while Mom made breakfast behind him.

But that good feeling I had about all of this? It lasts only about a split second.

Because the moment he looks up and sees me, the mug falls out of his hand and shatters to pieces. His eyes stay glued to me, even as my mother darts over to pick up the pieces of the ceramic that are scattered about the table and the floor. And when she turns back to grab a paper towel, he still stares at me, once again at my legs.

It takes me all of four seconds afterwards to remember that not only did I talk to him briefly last night, but I also flirted with him after he complimented me.

That whole part seemed to have slipped my mind when waking up, and now that his gaze is bringing me back to that moment, that 'this has to be an illusion' montage is starting to become larger than I'd remembered.

It isn't until he finally snaps out of it and starts to help my mom clean up the mess that I snap out of it, too, going back upstairs to clear my head and cool the heat radiating over my skin.

———

There's a knock at my bedroom door about an hour later, and it sounds different than my mom's usually quick two-knock succession. That means it's someone else, and unsurprisingly, my stomach tightens at the thought of seeing him again.

"Yeah?" I call out, turning in my desk chair and meeting Spencer's figure in the doorway. He's changed, a rather nice pair of slacks and a white button-up shirt clinging to his limbs.

"Can I come in?"

"Mhm," I say. I still don't know if I entirely trust myself to say anything more than a few words to him, and as he enters the room and sits on the foot of my bed, I wonder if he can tell.

He tries, really tries, to look me in the eye, but I know that it's hard. I've been in the same spot. And then he takes a deep breath before folding his hands in his lap.

"Y/N, I want to apologize... When we... talked last night... It was kind of weird, and then this morning wasn't really any better..." He can barely get out the words 'talk' and 'last night'... And then he avoids my gaze altogether, staring at the floor and trailing off, trying to put his thoughts together it seems.

And that's when it starts to click into place.

There's one thing that both last night and this morning have in common, and I've noticed it almost every time I've caught him staring at me. At my legs. It's happened almost daily since I've met him. And then, the night I come home clearly having just been fucked, waltzing past him, entertaining his fascination with my legs and then masturbating to thoughts of him in the shower, he finally starts dropping mugs.

He must also really feel something here. Something similar to my own feelings. And really, that should be a red flag, because he's my mom's boyfriend, and it's a goddamned fucking mess...

But fuck, it excites me.

I'm still wearing my pajama shorts, silky and lavender in color, and I use them to my advantage, slowly crossing one leg over the other and just barely gaining Spencer's attention back.

"Yeah, what was that, anyway?" I ask him, amusement dripping off my tongue.

I can tell from his reaction that he wasn't expecting me to ask. A few times he opens his mouth to speak and then closes it , stumbling before panicking. He's been pretty good so far at coming up with answers and explanations, so the fact that this time I finally seemed to have broken him down makes it all the more clear.

He must have heard me in the shower.

Right?

I'm almost completely positive that's what this is about. And there's one way for me to get the confirmation I'm looking for.

"So you heard me, huh?"

I try to keep my voice as plain as I can as not to give away my motives, and with my luck Spencer is so flustered that he probably wouldn't have even noticed it at all. He looks up at me, his eyes desperately trying to find something he can use to make up a lie, but in the end there's no use.

I've caught him. And he knows it.

"Yes," he whispers. He looks exhausted, guilty, and also a little like he wants to cross the barrier and kiss me.

Okay, maybe that part's just in my head. I really can't tell. But I do know that hearing me call his name out in the shower last night is what brought him to this point of severe distress. As much as that excites me, though, it also embarrasses me a little. Maybe if it hadn't happened we could have avoided further destruction.

It must read on my face, because Spencer perks a little. "Oh! Y/N, I'm not... I'm not mad or anything. I really didn't mean to overhear and invade your privacy... Really, I-I'm sorry."

The fact that he's apologizing to me right now, rather than acting all grossed out that I even did it in the first place, tells me he either feels guilty for not being able to help himself from hearing me, or he's just a good guy who loves my mom and doesn't want to ruin it because of a little mishap.

Either way, it's frustrating, because I don't know what to do.

Well, I know what I want to do, but I don't know if I should hint at it.

But then he does something. It's small, and no one would have noticed, but I've been fascinated with his hands since the moment I met him, so my eyes are instantly drawn there.

They're clenched so hard, his knuckles are nearly white.

He's nervous.

To ease his mind a bit, I hold off on poking the bear harder (though it's really tempting to see what will happen if I don't) and nod, trying to make myself look as apologetic and small as possible.

"It's okay... I... I won't make it awkward if you won't?"

His shoulders slump, and his body seems to relax. "Y–yeah. Yeah, deal."

He gets up off the bed and blurts one final apology before heading for the door, but that part of me that wants to poke the bear further makes me stand up and follow him.

"Spencer?" I call out.

He freezes and turns to face me, and I don't think he quite expected me to be as close as I am. I have to tilt my head up to look at him, and the angle gives me an added layer of this innocence I'm trying to achieve.

"I'm sorry, too..."

No the fuck I'm not.

Whether he can sense my lie or not, he doesn't show it. But I think he at least knows that I'm pitching my voice a little higher on purpose, and if that doesn't give it away, the way I'm staring at him sure should.

Still, he only nods and retreats.

All there's left to do is see what happens.

JUNE 25th

For someone who agreed not to make things awkward, Spencer sure can't keep his eyes off of me.

To be fair, I have tried to keep things fairly normal. I only really interacted with him if I had to, I kept my distance, and I saved my skimpier clothing for the strangers I was regularly going out to see almost every weekend.

My lustful feelings for him aren't as strong now that I've been getting some on a semi-regular basis and keeping myself occupied. I've been doing my part.

But I still can't shake him entirely.

Whenever he spends the night (which is surprisingly most nights), the occasional wet dream about him gets me frustrated when I know he's just down the hall and sleeping soundly next to my mom. On those days I try to cut as much interaction with him as I can, though it doesn't keep me from seeing the occasional stare he throws my way.

I wish I could say that I hate it.

But I don't, and it increasingly gets worse. It's only been a week, so there's still time, but honestly, I don't think there's any shaking him.

Today especially is one of those days where it's hard not to give into the incessant need to tease him and coax some stronger reaction out of him.

I talked to Mom earlier this morning about getting some new clothes, and she had this brilliant idea to have Spencer take me. "It would be a good chance for you two to bond a little, don't you think?" she insisted, nudging him in the side and silently pleading with her eyes for him to agree.

I could tell from the look on his face that he really wasn't ready to be alone with me again, but that only excited me.

"Yeah, I think that's a great idea," I piped up, positively beaming.

Mom was so excited for us to 'bond' and also that I was gladly inclined to go through with it that Spencer couldn't have said no to her even if he wanted to.

And I was pretty sure he didn't want to.

Yet here we are, sitting in the car, the air conditioning so strong it's blowing some of my hair into my eyes. I think it had been his way of punishing me for choosing today to wear a short skirt, something I usually refrain from nowadays unless I'm going out, and it makes me smile. I can't help it.

I also can't help the way my fingers play with my skirt, dying to tease him some more. I just want to see, to know for sure that I'm driving him mad.

"No offence, but you seem weird today... Is there something wrong?" I ask him, lifting my skirt just a smidge. The air from the car blows the fabric in waves.

"You're acting this way on purpose."

Well, I hadn't been expecting that answer... All this time he'd hardly been confrontative, and now he's full-on calling me out. It's plain to see that he's finally snapped, and I would have felt sorry about it if I didn't find it extremely sexy.

"What do you mean?"

"Y/N..."

My name on his lips is a warning. He's clearly annoyed, exasperated, and I'm loving every second. "Don't act oblivious. I'm not stupid, and neither are you. I don't want to make you hate me or anything, but you have to know where I'm coming from. I was willing to let the shower thing slide... And you said you were too, for that matter, so I don't know what's changed, but it has to stop now. Understood?"

Oh, all I want is to argue with him. I want to point out that none of this is really my fault because he's the one who hasn't been able to stop staring at me all summer so far. I want to tell him that if he wants this to stop he has to make it stop.

But that isn't going to give me any of the answers I'm looking for or further proof of my theory that he wants me just as badly as I want him. And I am not going to fuck this whole situation up by making a poorly-timed move on him.

I have to know for sure.

So, I fold my hands neatly in my lap, sigh, and look dead ahead. "Right... We said no awkwardness. I'm sorry."

Spencer seems to accept my apology and continues down the road.

When we make it to the mall I think he's calmed down. At least, he seems a little more comfortable around me, and honestly I'm okay with it. As much as his spiel in the car turned me on, it also exhausted me to the point of silence.

Even as we walk around each store in the mall, I just lead and he follows, not saying a word when I pick out a top or a pair of pants or whatever else I need. And when it comes time to pay, he takes the basket from me and pays for it with no question.

Near five bags of clothes later, I figure I could get used to this new dynamic.

But then we pass a lingerie store, and I remember that the main thing I'd needed was new underwear. I start to turn into the store, but stop suddenly, pausing awkwardly and deciding to go straight ahead instead.

"You don't want to go in?" Spencer asks.

I shake my head. "No, it's fine. I can just pick some up later, it's not a big deal."

He sighs then, nodding his head towards the sign. "If you need to go in, you can... I'll just wait out here if you're uncomfortable."

I really want to call him out, ask him if he's the one who should be worried about being uncomfortable. But so far this afternoon has been pretty decent, and I really don't want to make things any weirder than they have to be.

Besides... If my theory is right...

"Sure. Thanks. Uh, how am I gonna pay, though?"

"O—Oh... I'll uh... I'll just watch the counter and come in when you need me."

"Orrrr, you could just give it to me?"

This time I get a laugh out of him. "Not a chance. Go in, I'll wait."

I smile at him and hand him the bags to hold onto while I leave, and it fills me with absolute amusement that he'd just given me one more ounce of proof that I'm right.

He's gonna have to come inside and pay for what I bought. He could have just given me the card, and maybe he truly doesn't trust me with it (which I don't know why he wouldn't honestly), but he chose to come inside all the same.

I browse happily then, going through the displays and picking out things I need, but also things I know Spencer will like.

Specifically, I stumble on a pair of lavender panties, embroidered with flowery trim up top. The pattern from the outside is lace, but there's a thin layer of cotton underneath designed to be more comfortable to wear.

I've noticed that he can never seem to look away when I'm wearing anything, really, but it's more intense when I wear one of two things. Florals, and any type of purple. And these fit both of those bills perfectly.

Now there's just one more bill to take care of.

I stride over to the counter and turn around, finding that Spencer's caught my eye immediately. Either he truly had been paying attention to the counter the whole time, or he'd been watching through the glass, following me with his gaze to the best of his abilities. Either way, he blinks a few times and looks like he's gathering the courage to go in before actually taking any steps.

I laugh to myself, eager to gauge his reaction to this next step.

Surprisingly, he holds up well. The air between me, him, and the cashier is obviously awkward, but he doesn't say anything and barely looks at what she rings up. (I say barely because he tries extremely hard not to look at the purple pair I picked out, inadvertently adding another checkmark to my list of proof.) She tells him the total, he hands her the card, and within a minute, everything is in our possession and we're leaving the mall entirely.

I don't think there are any more steps to my plan today once we get in the car and I tell him thank you. (To which he responds a short and simple, Sure thing, and turns the radio on.)

But then there's a note taped to the front door, and it instantly gives me another one.

My Sweethearts,

I got called in on a work emergency and won't be back until 7. I would have called but I figured you were having a nice time and didn't want to interrupt! I'll bring home dinner, and then maybe you can tell me about how your day went. Can't wait to hear it!

XOXO,

Eve/Mom

I check my phone, seeing that it's almost 3.

Perfect.

But I don't want to give myself away too quickly, so I thank Spencer again for taking me out and tell him that I'm going upstairs to make sure everything fits right. He nods and lets me go, though not without lingering eyes. I can feel it.

The smile never leaves my face as I try all my clothes on. Once each article has been fitted, I throw it in a laundry basket and move to the next, until I get to the last piece.

The lavender panties.

As expected, they fit perfectly, and as I look at myself in the mirror I picture what Spencer would look like when he sees me wearing them.

That's right. When.

I throw back on my earlier outfit and grab the basket, acting as bored and normal as possible to find him sitting at the kitchen table, reading a book.

"Hey," I greet him, setting the basket in front of me once I reach the bottom of the stairs. "Everything fits good, I just need them washed now. Could you run these down to the laundry room for me? I think I'm gonna make something to snack on before Mom brings dinner."

It doesn't surprise me to see him look at my legs before my face, even if it is brief. I want to smile, but I hold back, watching him nod with a tight smile of his own.

"Sure."

He disappears and then I wait.

One...

Two...

Three.

I sneak as quietly as I can to the laundry room once I hear the washer door open. I hadn't specifically asked him to put them in the washer for me on purpose, and it looks like now he's doing exactly what I thought he might.

My head peeks around the corner, barely in his range of sight as I watch him empty the basket. He takes one item of clothing at a time and throws it in the washer, and halfway through the basket he stops, just to place a pair of my new underwear on the dryer beside him.

My heart races faster the more I wait for him to get to the end of the basket. Once he does, he pauses again, and I think I know exactly what he's looking for.

Still, he sets the basket aside and picks up the stray pair of underwear, a simple black cotton pair that I'd been getting for years, and drapes it over his hands. My thighs instantly clench, and I try so hard to remain where I am so I can see where he takes this.

He takes it straight to hell, apparently, tentatively pulling his dick out of his pants and gripping it firmly. I can barely see since his back is partially turned, but I see enough, and god he's so fucking pretty. My underwear dangle from his left hand while the other works slowly over his erection, a soft sigh falling from his lips.

I fight to let one of my own slip as my hand sinks down the front of my body, past the lavender cotton and lace that I know he just wishes he had right now.

And then, a few seconds later he's already coming, using my brand new underwear to catch each rope of it, and the sight nearly has me on my knees.

And because I want to catch him in the act, I quickly draw my hand away from myself and step into the room, barely giving him time to recover.

"You come fast."

Spencer looks utterly devastated when he turns to see me standing in the entryway to the laundry room, arms crossed and an amused smirk adorning my face.

"Y/N... I—I... I'm so sorry, I didn't... I..."

"Don't worry about it," I say, taking a step towards him and shrugging. "You heard me, and now I heard you... We're even. Besides, I... figured you might be looking for these."

He's still stunned, but he looks down all the same, watching my hands slip under my skirt and glide the lavender panties down my legs. I step out of them and hold the garment up on one finger, a soft smile still on my face.

"I picked 'em out just for you, you know," I tell him, tossing them past his face and into the washer. "I've noticed that you like purple."

This time he's quick to respond. "Y/N, we... We can't... This isn't right."

"Says the man holding my underwear soaked in his cum..."

He looks panicked again, extremely guilty, but if this isn't going to end in a total disaster, then I have to reassure him that I'm okay.

"Spencer, I'm not mad..." I take another step forward, and it feels much like trying to approach a wounded animal. I can see in his eyes and in his posture that this conflict is killing him, so I decide to show some rapport. "And I know... I know this is messy... I love my mom... And I'm sure you care about her a lot... But are we really going to ignore this? We tried that, remember? And now look where we are."

"I..." He swallows, shaking his head and trying to avoid my eyes. "I can't stop thinking about you... I can't..."

My hand finds his arm, and the light touch has him sighing out, an incredulous, breathy laugh escaping him. "Y/N, please... Don't."

"Don't what?" I ask softly, praying he won't turn me away. If he does, we're just back to square one, only the square is jagged, sharper than ever before, and in serious danger of injuring someone.

When he meets my eyes, I see nothing but a desire for something he knows he can't have. "Don't want me."

Now it's my turn to laugh. My knees start to wobble as I go down, keeping my eyes locked onto his, and I swear I see them dilate fully. I scoot in closer, sliding my hand up his leg and finding the words in my heart to finally say out loud.

"It's too late for that..."

My face moves closer, and the hand of his that doesn't currently hold my underwear flies down to gently tug at my hair, keeping me in place.

"If you do this... God, Y/N, I won't be able to stop myself..."

A smirk dances over my lips as I lean in, breath fanning gently over his exposed skin. "Don't."

He swallows. "Don't what?"

"Don't stop yourself."

I barely get the words out before his hand is completely pulling me towards him, and the second my lips press against the silky skin of his hard cock, he loses it completely.

His fingers thread through my hair as I kiss and lick my way softly up to the tip. Once I'm there, I swirl my tongue out and taste the small beads of cum that had remained after he came, a low, satiated hum radiating through my body and making him shiver under my touch.

And then I wrap my lips fully around the head of his dick, and there's no stopping the most beautiful sound I've ever heard come out of his mouth. It's a broken, desperate whisper of my name. The crack in his voice when he says it spurs me forward, and I take him deeper into my mouth until he hits the back of my throat.

That's when he tosses my underwear in the washer and uses both of his hands to grab my head, roughly guiding me along his cock and fully taking control of my actions.

The fire in my belly doesn't ease up, not even once he's decided that he can't take it anymore and pulls me off of him harshly.

And that's only because now he's fully turned over, finally given into these desires that have been plaguing him presumably from the moment we met.

"I want you stripped and in your bed, on your hands and knees within the next five minutes."

I get up off the floor and walk up to him until our bodies are flush, my arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.

"What are you gonna do to me, Spencer?"

He searches my eyes, and his own grow dark with the purest form of sin I'd ever seen. And when his hands come up over the back of my legs, and under my skirt to grab my ass and pull me even closer to him, I can't help the little mewl that slips past my lips.

He smiles, and if it hadn't been for the grip he held on me, I would have fallen to my knees. "Little girl, when I'm through with you, you'll have to come up with some excuse to your mom about why you can't walk straight... Is that what you want?"

The mention of my mom should send me running in the opposite direction, but his threat only prolongs that fire in my veins and makes me want him even more.

I tilt my head up and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Do your worst..."

———

Turns out he was very true to his word.

Sitting at the kitchen table is somewhat of a relief, but I try not to walk around as much when Mom gets home. She'd asked me almost immediately if I was okay, and I told her I was just hungry and needed to eat something.

She seemed to have bought it, rushing to the kitchen to unpack the fast food she'd ordered for us. Over her shoulder, Spencer gave me a sly smile, and it took everything I had within myself not to crumble.

Through bites of food, I only half-listen to Mom telling us about the stuff she had to do at work because most of the words I'm hearing are in my head— A loop of endless dirty talk that plants deep into the soil of my stomach and spreads out through my whole body. It infects me, like the most beautiful poison, and I never want it to stop.

"Tell me, sweetheart, you ever let a man come inside you before?"

His weight on top of me coupled together with the heft of his voice has me whining out in pleasure, each snap forward of his hips over my ass as he pounds into me from behind the most delectable burn I've ever felt.

"Uh huh," I answer happily, twisting my head to feel his cheek against my own. "That night you heard me in the shower... I walked through the door with a stranger's cum soaking my panties... And you know what?"

He grumbles, his hips hitting into me harder as he waits for me to continue.

"I wished it was yours..."

My legs clench together under the table and I take a large gulp of water.

I feel something graze over my bare shin, and I already know it's Spencer's foot, a silent reassurance of his presence and that no matter what, he'll always be here.

"Here's what's going to happen..."

He has me on my back now, my legs hoisted over his shoulders and bent back so I'm nearly folded in half. His hips are flush against mine and I can feel his cock throbbing as he comes into the condom.

"You're gonna make an appointment to make sure you're clean... You're gonna make sure you're on good birth control... And then the next time I fuck this pretty little pussy, you're gonna really know what it feels like to have a man come inside you."

Right... Like I really need a reminder of his presence.

I can practically feel it still inside me, taking up every inch of space my body could provide. And no matter how long I go without seeing him, I have no doubt that it'll always remain.

"But that's enough about me, I'm sorry." Mom's voice shifts and breaks me out of my fantasy. "So, how did your day of bonding go? You have fun?"

Spencer and I share a look, a smile spreading over his lips that makes me smile in turn.

"Yeah, Mom," I say. "It was great."

He nods in kind. "Yeah... We'll definitely have to do it again."

His foot grazing over my leg under the table cements the unwavering smile on my face, as does the way my whole body burns at the memory of him fucking me upstairs only hours before.

I don't even flinch or get sick to my stomach when Mom reaches over and gives Spencer a kiss.

———

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[kanmom51]

Stay alive - Jungkook (prod. Suga)

So, I’ve been mulling over writing this post for some time now.

I know, I do, that JK isn’t the one to write this song.  

As a matter of fact there were many super talented people involved in the writing of this song, among them Suga.  We have no way of knowing who wrote what, or who came up with what lines.  All we do know is that JK’s name is not on that list, although BigHit’s inhouse team (El CapitXN, Shin Won Park) and Suga are there amongst those names. 

BUT...

Why is it that I listen to this song, read the lyrics and all I see is Jikook?

And NO, I’m not Jikook obsessed, well not that much, lol.  Not on a level that I read Jikook in every moment, every situation or every song lyrics, especially those performed by JM or JK.

BUT...

Stay alive, it just has Jikook written all over it, and JK singing those lyrics, well...

[Intro] Mmm, please stay alive, yeah [Verse] When did things start to go wrong? I can't remember at all I whisper as I hide myself in this small room Darkness is my only friend (Only friend) My hand reaching out for salvation Am I strange? A room stained with blood Please, somebody save me [Pre-Chorus] Hide in the moonlight There ain't no miracles My hopes are humble Hide in the moonlight I'm not asking for a lot But I guess it's too much At the end of this sleepless twilight Feels like I strayed through this nightmare With my eyes wide opеn Came like a miracle, look likе a miracle Just like a miracle, those few words

[Chorus] You are my fate No words can express it enough Salvation that saved a wearied me Is that easier to grasp Those few words that saved me I'll be by your side after many nights Oh, yeah (Those few words) I'll stay by your side even if my feet bleed [Post-Chorus] Please, you stay alive (Woah-oh-oh, woah) Please, you stay alive (Woah-oh-oh, woah) Please, you stay alive [Verse 2] The shadow is growing bigger But it's okay because you are my big light Because you are the profit in my life Just smile like you always do You resemble me so much I resemble you so much At times, I get scared for no reason Why am I feeling like this?

[Pre-Chorus] At the end of this endless nightmare That I don't know if it'll ever end You raise me up every day Came like a miracle, look like a miracle Just like a miracle, those few words [Chorus] You are my fate No words can express it enough Salvation that saved a wearied me Is that easier to grasp Those few words that saved me I'll be by your side after many nights Oh, yeah (Those few words) I'll stay by your side even if my feet bleed Please, you stay alive [Outro] You are my salvation No words can express it enough Please, you stay alive (Woah-oh-oh, woah) Please, you stay alive

Just smile like you always do

JK: “when Jimin smiles, his eyes are so pretty”

"How to make jimin laugh?" JK: “It's simple! whenever he looks at me he laughs”

You are my fate

No words can express it enough Salvation that saved a wearied me Is that easier to grasp Those few words that saved me...

...The shadow is growing bigger But it's okay because you are my big light

JK: “Jimin is my catalyst”

JK: “when we are on stage, and my eyes automatically meets Jimin hyung's, I feel connected to him.”

You resemble me so much I resemble you so much

JK: “Jimin is my "I'm you, you're me"”’

Isn’t it funny how a song not written by JK yet performed by him seemingly carries so much of Jikook in it?