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moonstruckme · 2 months ago

Note

Okay I’ve been thinking of request ideas for Thawing Out all day while I was at work 😂 What about if something happened with her on the way to practice (nothing serious but maybe it shook her up a bit) and she was late and clearly acting off? Obviously her boys are going to notice…

Love you as always, hope you’re doing amazing! 💖💖💖

Thank you Amber my love!!! Hope you like it <3

collab with @ellecdc

cw: modern au, chronic pain, mention of harassment

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.6k words

You come into the rink with quick, determined steps, blitzing past every door in your path until you get to the bleachers. Sirius is already on the ice, Remus leaned against the boards while he watches. Both boys turn when you sit down.

“Hello,” Sirius calls, clearly chuffed to have you here as a buffer between him and your bristly coach. “Where’s my latte?”

“No time today,” you say back. You jam your foot into a skate.

Remus gives you a scrutinous look. “You alright?”

“Fine. Sorry I’m late.”

You get your skates on in record time, laced up tight enough to hurt. Sirius is ready for you in your starting position, his hands firm on your shoulders. He gives a little squeeze, meant to coax a smile out of you, but you’re in no mood.

“I was just fucking with you about the latte,” he says lowly. “I don’t need it to get through practice, though he has been especially insufferable this morning.”

You glance at Remus. He looks the same as always, half relaxed and half watchful. He and Sirius have fallen into a routine of petty spats that you suspect don’t exactly make him look forward to practice every morning, and yet he seems to be getting used to the both of you. He’s less curt than he had been during your first few days together.

“You only say that because you were here alone with him,” you say.

“It didn’t help. Without you here he’s in his most unfiltered, fogey form.”

Your skating is as near to flawless as it’s been in weeks. You throw yourself into each jump with everything you have, using the hot emotions simmering beneath your skin to your advantage. And it works. Remus looks caught offguard but directs several nods of approval your way, whereas Sirius is all untempered joy. His grin widens with each flawless landing, and when you finish your most difficult move in the routine he actually whoops. You think you see Remus’ lips twitch at that.

“There she is!” Sirius grips your hand, squeezing tight as you go into a synchronized arabesque. His hair is pulled back into a bun, but a couple of loose pieces flutter around his face as he skates backwards. He looks so happy for you, and some of that tight feeling you’ve been carrying around all morning dissipates. You smile back at him.

You both go into a lutz. It’s a jump you’ve done half a million times. It should be a given, perfect every time. And yet you catch your mistake in midair.

You land on your hands and knees.

You pant a couple of times, and your next breath scrapes on the way in. Tears press at your eyes horrifyingly fast, like they’ve only been waiting for their chance. You press your nose to the ice.

Skates hiss until they’re next to you, Sirius’ hand on your back.

“What’s wrong? What happened?”

You shake your head, humiliated by your fall and even more so by this fracturing, how easily it came on. You feel pathetic.

“Where is it?” Sirius’ voice climbs, growing shrill with panic. “Let me see. How bad is it?”

He’s trying to sit you up, hands cold and gentle and frantic, but his touch stills when a warmer one meets your shoulder.

“Are you hurt?” Remus asks.

“No.” You finally find your voice, but it’s pitchy and awful. “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck. Fucking hell.” In the next second you’re smushed against Sirius, who hugs you tight as soon as he knows he doesn’t have to be delicate with you. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorry.” Your face feels hotter than hot in the cold rink. You push into your eyes with your fingertips. “God, what the fuck! I thought I fixed it. I don’t understand why this is still happening.”

You’re sobbing now, tiny explosions that start in your chest and ricochet all the way through you, but fuming all the same.

“You were both right, I’m holding myself back. I thought I could stop, but it just keeps happening, and I can’t do this. I’m so incompetent I can’t even do a fucking lutz. We need to find Sirius a new partner. I can’t hold us back anymore, I—”

“Hey.”

Remus’ voice is harsh, but not as harsh as Sirius’ grip on you turns at the sound of it. Your partner’s face goes sharp and cruel in an instant, an animal bearing its teeth.

Remus pays him no mind. He keeps his eyes on yours, firm and unrelenting. “Don’t speak about yourself that way,” he says.

You feel Sirius’ hold slacken in surprise.

Another tear trudges down your face, and Remus’ expression gentles. “Everyone falls,” he tells you. “You have been improving, faster than I thought was possible, but you can’t expect it to happen all at once. You’re still going to fall sometimes. It’s alright. We’re working on it, yeah?”

You sniff, wiping underneath your eyes. “Yeah,” you squeak out. “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry. Just give yourself some grace, yeah?” His lips press together in a little grimace that’s likely meant to be a smile. “It’s my job to be hard on you, not yours. You’re allowed to fuck up. It doesn’t make you incompetent, or unworthy of competing with Sirius. You are the best person to be his partner. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t be here, understand?”

“Yeah.” You take a deep breath in. “Thank you.” It stutters a bit on the way out, catching on another tiny sob you can’t help. This one comes from a place of relief, but Sirius’ cold fingers dig into your arm anyway and Remus’ brows twitch slightly as though it hurts him, too.

“No problem,” he says softly. “Are you sure you haven’t hurt yourself?”

You nod, closing your eyes to will yourself calmer.

“Good. Do you want to leave off early today?”

You swallow and start to stand. “No. I’m okay.”

“No.” Sirius’ voice is bemused enough to sound like a question. He rises beside you, looking at you like he’s trying to puzzle you out. “No, something’s up with you today. We should stop.”

Remus seems to go along with him, starting back towards the opening in the boards, and you think wryly that if one good thing comes from all this it might be those two finally starting to get along. You also realize for the first time that Remus is out here with you on the ice. It’s the first time you’ve seen him so much as think about coming off of the bleachers, even if he is only in regular shoes and leaning heavily on his good hip as he makes his way back towards them.

“I’m okay,” you repeat to Sirius.

He shakes his head. “You’ve been weird since you got here. What happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

“Something did.”

You push out a frustrated breath. “Nothing relevant.”

“But something did happen.”

He’s steering you towards the exit now. It feels petulant to rip away and stay on the ice even if no one else will, though that’s what you’d really like to do.

“Are you actively trying to piss me off?” you ask him.

Sirius shrugs, stepping onto the floor. “If that’s what’s going to work. I only want to know what got you so upset.”

“Nothing.”

“Here we are again. Back to ‘nothing.’”

Remus is watching you both like you’re a show his TV has randomly flipped to. Tentative of where he stands, but definitely entertained.

You hate that this has become such a big thing. “It’s really nothing,” you say, planting yourself on the bench with a force that perhaps belies your claim. “It was just some git on the way here this morning.”

Sirius’ eyebrows go up while Remus’ come down.

“And what did this git have to say to you?” Sirius asks.

You sigh, starting to unlace your skates since apparently practice is over. “It’s not what he said. He only asked me out, which is fine, but then he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He, like, grabbed onto my arm and wouldn’t let go for a bit.”

Sirius’ expression goes stormy. It’s almost as bad as the look he’d given Remus earlier, only without a target to be directed at. “Are you fucking joking?”

“It was fine,” you say. “I made it here, didn’t I? It just freaked me out a little. And pissed me off.”

“Yeah, you should be pissed!” Sirius starts pacing, mindless of the indents his blades are putting into the rubber flooring. “Who does that? Did he think—what, you were just going to have to go out with him if he took you captive?”

“I don’t know.” You give him a dead-eyed stare. “I didn’t ask him.”

“God, you should be able to walk to fucking practice in the morning without being accosted by—by some—”

“Do you need someone to walk with you in the mornings?” Remus seems uninterested in waiting to hear what creative insult Sirius comes up with for the git. He looks at you steadily, his jaw tight but ready to accept whatever answer you give him.

“No,” you say. “Like I said, it was really nothing.”

“It upset you,” he says matter-of-factly. “That’s not nothing.”

“I can walk you.” Sirius plonks down beside you on the bench, seeming to have come to a decision. “Just wait for me inside tomorrow morning, and I’ll come pick you up.”

You can’t help but smile at that. “If I leave it to you, we’ll never get here. There’ll never be another morning practice again.” Remus’ tongue pokes into his cheek like he’s repressing a grin.

“Wha—so little faith!” Sirius sputters, straightening before he’s so much as touched his laces. “I’ll be there, okay? We will be needing to pick up my coffee on the way here, though.”

You give him a skeptical look. “You realize I wake up a half hour earlier to have time to get those?”

“Fucking hell! Do you really?”

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ashwhowrites · 2 years ago

Note

eddie x cheerleader

they had a fight , eddie cant focus so he canceled hellfire

he still stays after school so he can watch her performance

he sees her smile is so fake

and even while shes performing he sees tears dripping out of her eyes

so he starts crying too

but once shes done performing , he follows her and gets on his knees and apologizes

Hopefully this is what you were looking for!

Angst with a happy ending :)

I LOVE HOW THIS TURNED OUT

Eddie Munson had his beliefs and refused to change them. He was stubborn and hard headed. Quick to be defensive and claim he is always right. Even if that meant putting his pride in front of his relationship with his girlfriend.

"Eddie it's just this is my last performance of the season and you haven't been to a single one since we got together. I know you hate sports, the jocks, and the atmosphere but can't you do it for me, just this once?"

The same argument again. The couple have been fighting about Eddie going to one performance, just one, before her cheerleading season ended. Always hurting when all the cheerleaders smiled at their boyfriends who watched in the crowd, Y/N wanted that. She wanted to feel supported too.

"I don't get why we have to fight about this. I told you I hate being around those people. And I have hellfire tonight, I can't just cancel that for your dance." He scoffed, arms crossing in a defensive manner. Arguing quietly in the hallway while the rest of the school was in class or the lunch room.

"it's not a dance! It's a performance, which you wouldn't know since you never bother to come." She spat, her own arms crossing in front of her. "look I get it, the jocks are assholes and treat you like crap. But I've been doing my best to make them leave you alone. All the girls on my team adore us because you make me happy. They even ask for you to come. Do you know how embarrassing it is to watch every boyfriend in the crowd cheering for them? They all have someone to look for in the crowd, someone to smile at and run to when the game is done? I have no one out there Eddie! I'm the only one left on the court once we are done." She explained, trying her hardest to keep her tears in her eyes. She could not ruin the make up she spent hours doing for her last performance.

"oh now you are being dramatic, not every girl on that team has a boyfriend sitting there." He tried to defend, ignoring the pain in his chest imagining her standing there alone, wishing for him to just be there.

But Eddie could not go against everything he believed in. He already was a hypocrite for dating a cheerleader, he couldn't break down his pride even more. Not when he preached to his sheep about the venom of popularity.

"I don't even know why I still try. Enjoy your club asshole, I'll find a ride with Chrissy." She spat, ponytail harshly swinging as she marched past him, a shove in his shoulder. Not a single word she said went through his brain, just right out of his ears. Too stubborn to even be there for her. Maybe she just needs to pull the plug on them? Was the disappointment worth it every time?

Eddie sat at the lunch table, hearing the boys talk about how excited they are for the campaign, Eddie couldn't match the atmosphere.

He felt so fucking bad. The way she looked like she was going to cry when she walked past him was stuck in his head. He tried to shrug it off, focus on the campaign at hand.

He couldn't, he cancelled hellfire the second all the boys walked in.

"I just don't have it in me." He sighed as he sat at his throne.

The boys watched their leader placing his head in his hand, obviously in distress.

"that's fine Eddie. Take the time you need. We'll just go watch the game? Lucas is playing! Plus it's Y/N's final game." Dustin said excitedly, he's secretly been dying to watch her perform, hellfire always landed the same days as games so he never got to see her.

When Eddie first dated her, Dustin was the most supportive. He didn't give a shit if Eddie liked a cheerleader after all the talk he preached. She was different, it was easy to tell.

Eddie's head snapped up at her name.

"you want to watch my girlfriend?" Eddie questioned.

"duh! I've been dying to see the routines she's made. They sound totally badass but it's always the same as hellfire nights so I never got to go." Dustin shrugged. Having no idea his words were stabbing Eddie even deeper in his heart.

The boys raced out of the room, heading to the gym to catch the game and apparently Y/N's performance.

Eddie truly was the only one who still held on to his words of the popular world. His club didn't even give a shit he was dating a cheerleader, all excited to watch her perform. Now he felt like even more of an ass. Simply refusing to watch her because he was scared of what his club would think of him for going back on his words. An excuse that had no truth behind it.

The boys found the only open spot on the bleachers, quickly filling it with their bodies.

Mike, Gareth, and Jeff quickly searching for Lucas but Dustin was searching for Y/N.

A huge smile on his face when she spotted her stretching, head down not bothering to look at the crowd. Dustin waited for her to look up just once so he could wave, but she never did.

By the time Eddie quit his pity party he got up, collecting his backup and walking to the gym. He walked in the doorway, searching for an open seat but the gym was packed completely. He sighed and leaned against the wall. Maybe if he was a good boyfriend and showed up on time, he'd have a seat.

Eddie realized he was catching the end of the game. The cheerleaders were finishing their last routine. Eddie felt even more like shit, he missed the whole thing except for the final damn flip. Truly never once seeing his girlfriend do something she loved. He watched her closely, a smile of hers usually fixed everything. But the smile she had wasn't real, it looked fake and painful. He could see her blinking rapidly, a sign she was holding back tears. Eddie found himself blinking just as fast. Trying to ignore the burn in his throat.

He stood against the wall for the next ten minutes of what was left of the game. Once he heard the final buzzer go off, he watched as everyone cheered. Lucas was thrown in the air by the team. Eddie felt himself smile at one of his sheep getting supported, maybe the jocks weren't that horrible.

His smile quickly fell when the basketball team moved over, now seeing his girlfriend packing up her bag, alone. Eddie looked to the bleachers to see, in fact, every single cheerleader kissing their boyfriends. His shoulders somehow slumped even more, she wasn't lying. She was the only one on the team who had no one to congratulate her.

Eddie for once decided his pride wasn't worth it. He dropped his backpack on the floor, gathering as much courage as his pathetic body could manage. He went to move but stopped when he saw Dustin running to her. Hugging her from behind. He laughed a little as she jumped and screamed. "That fucker and his little crush."

Feeling arms wrapped around her was the last thing she expected. She jumped and screamed as she turned around.

"OMG DUSTIN!" she screamed trapping him in a bear hug. Dustin didn't even care that she was sweaty, hugging her tighter as she hugged him harder.

She looked over Dustin's shoulder to see the rest of hellfire behind him with big smiles.

"holy shit. What are you guys doing here?" She was confused, the campaign in no way could have been finished. Eddie kept them for hours in that room.

She couldn't wipe the smile off of her face though. Her heart is warming, she had people in the crowd that came to see her.

"Eddie was in a bad mood so he cancelled, so Dustin of course said we needed to come watch Lucas but I think he wanted to see you more." Mike joked.

Y/N laughed as Dustin's cheeks flared red.

"that's adorable." She squealed kissing his cheek. His face turned even redder, completely burning.

Y/N wishes that the good feeling lasted a bit longer, because now she realized, hellfire was cancelled, the boys were here, and Eddie wasn't with them.

Dustin knew once he saw the look in her eyes change what she was thinking.

"I think he went to the bathroom." Dustin quickly lied, not wanting to hurt her more with the truth that her boyfriend never showed up.

She nodded fast, not believing a word Dustin said. She knew Eddie, and Eddie did not show up.

"well I have to go change and head home with Chrissy. Thank you guys for coming. It means a lot." She cried happily, throwing them in a group hug. Waving goodbye as she walked to the locker room.

Dustin was racing out of the gym, marching to the parking lot for a specific van.

"did she ask?" Dustin jumped hearing a voice behind him, turning around to see Eddie against the school wall smoking a cigarette.

Dustin marched up and threw it on the ground.

"seriously Eddie? You are out here smoking instead of being with her?"

"I know okay? I was going to go but once I saw how happy she was when you all were there, I feel like I didn't deserve to ruin her moment."

"Eddie you wouldn't have ruined it. You would have made it better. She wanted you there. Now forget your goddamn stupid pride for one second, take out your balls, and make it up to your hot girlfriend that is way out of your league!" Dustin demanded his finger smashing right into Eddie's chest.

If Dustin wasn't saying something so true, Eddie might just have kicked his freshmen ass for talking to him that way.

But he was right, so Eddie nodded and turned to walk back into the school. His backpack was still in the gym so he walked to grab it. Stopping in his place when he saw Y/N searching the gym floor in a panic.

Eddie walked up behind her, the floor creaking underneath his sneakers.

"Chrissy did you find it? I need to find that ring. Eddie is going to kill me." She panicked, searching under every chair.

"I don't think he'd kill you. He definitely deserves to be killed though" He said. Watching her body freeze as she turned to see him standing there.

She stood up fast, dusting off her skirt. She never got to change, once she made it to the locker room she realized the necklace she wore with Eddie's ring on it was gone. The necklace she wore to every game underneath her uniform, just to have him there somewhere.

"I didn't mean to lose it." She panicked

"I don't even know which ring you are talking about. I promise it's not that big of a deal." He tried to make her feel better.

"NO IT IS A BIG DEAL. It's the only thing I have to pretend you are here with me and I need to find it " she demanded, back on her knees searching the floor.

Eddie couldn't believe how much harder each blow got in his gut. It was like watching a bomb destroy every building one by one. He was watching her fall apart more and more, all because of his pride.

He kneeled to the floor in front of her, grabbing her hands to stop her searching.

"I'm here now." He tried

She yanked her hands free

"doesn't matter now Eddie. I'm graduating and will never cheer again. At least now you won't have to listen to me fight to get you here "

He deserved that, he knew he did.

"I'm really fucking sorry." He whispered, sitting across from her.

"whatever Eddie." She said, following his actions. Sitting with her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms tightly against her legs.

"no I mean it. I have been the most shitty boyfriend ever. Hellfire should never have come before you. My pride should have never been more important than you. I fucked up and I fucked up bad, I know that. The second the boys all cheered I cancelled hellfire and went to the game, I realized I was the only one stuck on my words. None of them cared I fell in love with you. They didn't care if you were a cheerleader and that I was a huge hypocrite. It was all in my head. And I should have been here to be there for you. You deserved to feel as special as you did tonight at every game. I made it to the end. I know that doesn't count for anything. But I am so happy my boys were there for you, when I was too proud to be. I don't even deserve you to even think of keeping me around. You should honestly dump me in the most cruel way possible. Slash my tires or something." He joked, smiling on the inside when she laughed, wiping the tears that were falling down her eyes

"but if for some reason you are just as dumb as me, and still allow me to be around you. I would really love to make this up to you." He finished, hand searching for hers once again. This time she didn't move it away.

"I might just be even more dumber than you are because I love you too." She joked, pushing her shoulder against his. He laughed with her, wiping his own tears.

"doesn't mean I forgive you though. You made me feel really shitty and I need some action to back up your words."

"absolutely baby. I totally understand." He said. Relief filling his body, he has one more chance.

"if you are up for it, I have the rest of my night open. Why don't you perform every single routine you came up with for me?" He offered.

A huge smile stretched on her face

"you really want to sit here as I do over like 15 routines?" She laughed

"as long as you keep the outfit on." He winked. Another smack to his shoulder but the way she smiled warmed his heart.

He has a chance to fix it, and he wasn't going to ruin that.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975@ago-godance

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader

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scekrex · 7 months ago

Note

Adam X Male Reader. Who's been cheated on, in the past and is slowly starting to trust Adam more as time goes on.

Okay okay okay hear me the fuck out: they both struggle bc both Lilith and Eve left him and they both had something with Lucifer (Eve presumably cheated - in this fic it's implied that both cheated on Adam to spice things up a lil)

There's a darkness at the heart of my love, that runs cold, runs deep

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, hurt, cheating (mentioned)

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

When Adam decided to play a role in your silly little afterlife and you realized that you wanted him in a way that you’ve only ever wanted one person before, the sweet taste of your platonic relationship soured. You had developed feelings for the first man, that you couldn’t deny any longer, but you hated yourself for it - because who were to promise you that he wouldn’t fuck with someone else while dating you like your ex partner had done? The only person who could do so was Adam, yet you had learned the hard way that many promises people made - winner or human didn’t matter - were empty.

They told you what they thought you wanted to hear to simply get their way and while you wanted to trust Adam, and maybe your heart already did trust his sugar coated words, your mind strongly disagreed and doubted every little promise spoken by him - not just by him though, your mind told you that every promise was just a bunch of empty words, that way you were keeping yourself safe, you protected yourself from getting hurt again.

Adam, on the other hand, felt similar. He had been cheated on twice, back in his early days as a human, back when he had blindly trusted Lucifer’s and Lilith’s words, back in Eden when Eve had promised him that she and Lucifer were just friends. But they had been so much more than just that - just friends weren’t fucking each other. The two women that had been created for him and only him had turned against him and chosen someone else, why shouldn’t you do the same? God had never truly intended for Adam to date guys, hadn’t he? Yet you were there and Adam wanted nothing more than to call you his. But surely a person who wasn’t even meant for him would leave him just like the women did that God had created for him. They had been meant to love and desire him, but they hadn't done so. They had crushed Adam’s heart, shattered it into pieces and stepped on the shards until it had been nothing but dust. And then you had been so quick to glue the tiny pieces back together, you had fixed something deep inside of him without even knowing it but there was the risk of losing you again - he told himself that if he’d keep himself distanced, it wouldn’t hurt as much. That was bullshit though and deep down he knew that.

And then there was Lute, she was not only Adam’s lieutenant and best friend, she was also the self claimed couple therapist Adam and you desperately needed. So when the three of you sat in the living room of the house you and Adam shared, and Lute waited for one of you to begin talking, you took that chance, “What if his promises of staying forever and not fucking someone else are empty?” You felt a little bad, voicing your thoughts so harshly with Adam sitting right next to you and you noticed how he flinched a little at your words, how his wings rose a little to hide himself behind them. Lute tilted her head a little, “Why would they?” And to that you had no answer so you remained silent while Adam’s curious eyes were watching you carefully from the side. “I’ve known Adam for a long while now,” Lute continued, she gently placed a hand on your knee and your eyes met hers. There was honesty in those golden orbs of hers, honesty and made your concerns seem so unwarranted. “He has never looked at someone the way he looks at you,” you turned your head towards the first man, the man mumbled something inaudible but nodded - he was not used to being so vulnerable, to talk about his fears openly. “What if he fucking finds someone like Lucifer and decides to fucking drop me like those whores of ex-wives did?” Lute sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose, “Look at him, he’s seen your crybaby tantrums and yet decided to stay - he’s not gonna leave Adam.” And while Lute’s words were true and both of you logically knew that the other wouldn’t cheat because they know what it’s like to be on the other end of it, it wasn’t that easy to change an entire mindset.

It would take a lot of time and work, even more energy to fix the both of you. But you and Adam were willing to work this through. Together, side by side and hand in hand. And maybe one day the both of you wouldn’t have to struggle with that fear anymore, today was not that day though.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

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ace-of-clubs-and-diamonds · 1 year ago

Text

Too Late I'm Dead

After rushing out from a Jigsaw survivors meeting, you meet another survivor who isn't exactly intent on attending group therapy. A companionship blossoms, and then a friendship. And then, something else.

Rating: Explicit, NSFW 🔞 Fandom: Saw Pairing: Amanda Young x AFAB!Reader Word count: 5.1K Content warnings: Gore, mentions of self-harm (both in the Jigsaw trap context and the more typical context), trauma, PTSD, angst, discussions of disability (since a lot of Jigsaw traps are disabling), Saw is its own warning, smoking, alcohol consumption, flirting, kissing, making out, biting, vaginal fingering, friends to lovers, as is Saw tradition gay shit goes down in the bathroom, reader is AFAB but gender neutral AO3 link: Here

Author's Note: And here’s Blood Fest Week 3, with the keywords “twisted” and “fixation” and the prompts “traps” and “rage”!! “Traps”, of course, got me thinking about Saw. And since I’m down terribly bad for Amanda and have seen appallingly few fics for her…. well, why not? Underrated characters are kind of my signature anyway. Hope y’all enjoy! <3

“Hi everyone. My name is Brandon and…. I’m a Jigsaw survivor.”

A subdued chorus of Hi Brandons echoed around the small church room. You barely even bothered to mouth the words. The gesture felt about as empty as the tipped over plastic water bottle you’d discarded by your chair some time ago. There was coffee at the sad makeshift snack table too, as well as a box of pastries that looked a few days past their prime, but you figured you didn’t need the caffeine to make you any more jittery than you already were. Your leg was bouncing enough as it was.

“It’s been about a year since uh. Well.” Brandon smiled nervously and made a vague, fluttery gesture with his hands. “Well. You know.”

A quiet, obligatory response from the other people – a murmur, a nod of heads. You stared at your bouncing knee.

“I’ve made great progress with my recovery. My knees have healed really well. I can fully walk on them again, even run if I’m careful. My dog Rex doesn’t really like it when I’m careful though.” He laughed fondly. A couple others offered the obligatory chuckle. “They hurt if I get too eager with stairs. Or if it’s too humid. But it’s going really well. I’m really, really proud of the progress I’ve made.” He nodded, as if assuring himself.

He’d had to break both his knees in order to get out of his trap. Was in a wheelchair for months and only recently started moving around without it. Or so you’d been told.

You weren’t sure you’d be able to break your own knees.

“Somedays, though.” Brandon looked away from the loose circle you all formed. Blinked rapidly. “Somedays, it feels like I haven’t made any progress. Somedays it’s hard. Really hard. And it feels like I didn’t survive that trap. Or if I did, some part of me got left behind.”

Everyone else was nodding, some with sad, understanding smiles on their faces. Your own pulse thundered in your ears like a distant, approaching storm.

“It’s really hard to have hope on those days, but…. what else can I do?” He shrugged, a helpless smile on his face. “Give up? Wallow around in my own misery? I can’t live like that. No one can live like that. Not forever. You just have to choose. You have to make a choice, just like the choices we made to be here. You have to choose to live. You have to choose hope. Or else you just can’t survive.”

You shot to your feet, heartbeat pounding in your ears, chair scraping back. Every face in the room turned to look at you. The church felt too small. Your ribs felt too tight. You felt too…. seen.

Who was he to judge you for wallowing in what you’d fucking gone through?

You spun around and bee-lined for the exit.

The cool city air against your face was a relief as you barged through the church’s double doors. But you stopped in your tracks as you spotted someone else already there. A woman was sitting on the church stairs. She twisted around, eyebrows raised and half-hidden by the choppy, irregular bangs across her forehead.

“Uh. Hey,” you said, somewhat awkwardly.

She paused, as if uncertain. Of what? You weren’t sure. “Hey,” she eventually said back. Then, after another pause, she twisted further around, a frown crossing her features. “Is the meeting over?”

“No. I just needed some air.” Fuck, you needed something to calm yourself. You dug around in your jacket pockets until you found a lighter and a cigarette. “Um. Do you mind if I…?”

She stared at the cigarette in your hand with an expression you couldn’t quite decipher, but eventually shook her head no. You internally shrugged and lit up. The first drag uncoiled the tension that had built up in your muscles, and you breathed the smoke out on a relieved sigh.

The woman glanced between you and the church doors. “Having fun in there?”

Did she know? The place didn’t exactly advertise, but it wasn’t exactly a secret either. You scanned her face. She looked vaguely familiar, but you couldn’t quite place her. Had you seen her in the meetings before? “Oh, yeah, lots. You know. Fun therapy shit.” Supposedly, anyway. It was supposed to be some sort of Alcoholics Anonymous shit, but instead it was for the few survivors of an active fucking serial killer. Jigsaws Anonymous or whatever the fuck.

“Must be going well if you’re out here,” she said dryly, resting her chin on a propped-up fist.

You shrugged, taking another drag. “Well…” Did you really want to tell her about how Brandon’s words had hit just a little too close to home? How they’d made you feel too small, as if the sticks you’d used to prop up your fragile post-trap reconstruction of the world had suddenly snapped, and the weight of it all was now bearing down on you? She was a stranger waiting outside the church. She could’ve been some Jesus freak for all you knew.

Not that she really looked like one. Not with the sheer red shirt over a black bra and fishnet undershirt, or the combat boots, or the sheer exhaustion around her eyes.

She looked less like a Jesus freak and more like you did on the days you could bear to look in the mirror.

So you just shrugged again. “It can be a lot,” you said. “What about you? What’re you doing out here?” You hesitated. “There’re still seats open if you wanted to…”

“No thanks. I’m good.” She offered you a close-lipped smile. “I’ve heard enough of the sob-stories.”

Yeah. You could understand that.

She didn’t look like she was going anywhere, and you didn’t exactly have plans of your own. So you gestured to the stairs next to her. “Mind if I sit?”

“Be my guest.”

You sat to her right so the wind wouldn’t blow cigarette smoke into her face. The smooth grey stone steps were wide enough that it didn’t feel quite so awkward sitting in silence together. Even though you could feel her analyzing you as you took another puff.

You blew the smoke away and smirked dryly at the cigarette. “Think Jigsaw’s gonna put me in another deathtrap for smoking?” You ignored the tightening in your chest as you said the words. Ignored the tremor of unease. Surely it wouldn’t be enough. Surely lightning wouldn’t strike twice.

“He wouldn’t do that.” She said it with such simple certainty, as if it was an inarguable fact. Even still, you found yourself stubbing the cig out and searching for a trash can to toss it into. You didn’t want to just flick it into the grass. Maybe Jigsaw would get you for littering. Maybe he was really passionate about saving the planet.

Who needed to be God-fearing with the possibility of Jigsaw watching your every move?

You shook the thought off. Introduced yourself to the woman. You smiled awkwardly. “Um. I’d offer you my hand but my, uh–” Personal hell “–Trap involved a hand thing so. I’m not a big fan of handshakes these days.” It had taken a long time for the nerves to repair themselves in your hand. A long time and a shitton of agony and medication and physical therapy. You still hadn’t totally gotten rid of the tremor. Fine motorskills were still harder than before.

Before. That.

But the woman just gave a rueful, understanding sort-of smile. Funny how people smiled so much in the presence of trauma and pain. “Amanda. I still have trouble going to the dentist sometimes.”

Shit, that’s where you knew her from, wasn’t it? You’d heard of her, read about her before, seen a clip of her punching a journalist square in the nose when she tried to follow her. All the photos you’d seen had been such shit quality that you hadn’t recognized her immediately.

Amanda Young. The person who killed a man and rummaged around his guts to free herself from the machine hooked into her jaws. The first person to walk away from a Jigsaw trap. The first survivor. In a weird, fucked up way, it was almost like meeting a celebrity. A celebrity for the most depressingly specific thing possible.

You weren’t sure whether it would make things weird to bring that up. So you just nodded. “So. What’re you doing here then? Are you waiting for someone?”

“Mm no, not really.” Amanda scraped at the chipped black polish on her nails. “I just like to come here sometimes.”

You stared at her. Something about her reminded you of a deer, twitchy and ready to bolt at the slightest sign of danger. Or maybe not a deer. Deer looked like they’d snap in half if the wind blew too hard. Amanda…. did not. She was twitchy, but for some reason you got the feeling that she was just as likely to start kicking as she was to start running

Permanently caught between fight or flight.

You went with freeze, yourself. Or wallow, as Brandon had put it. Anger and embarrassment burned against your ribs.

“Hell of a place to visit.” You weren’t sure if you meant it as a light-hearted joke or a deadpan remark. The words came out somewhere in between.

“You’re one to talk.” She finally turned to you. It was the first time she’d actually met your eyes, you realized. “You actually believe all this bullshit?” she asked, gesturing to the church.

“Not really,” you admitted. “My therapist wanted me to go. Said it would help me to be around others who understand what I went through. That it would help me get closure or something. I didn’t want to. But he insisted.” You shrugged. He’d pestered you about it until you finally gave in a few weeks ago. He thought it would be good for you. Would help you heal. Really, it just made you want to fling yourself out of one of the church’s fancy stained-glass windows.

Amanda gave a derisive snort. You almost took offense until she said, “Half of the time these therapists don’t even know what they’re talking about. It’s a bunch of bullshit, too.” She propped her cheek on her fist again, giving you a side-long grimace. “People don’t change until they have to. Or until they’re forced to. A bunch of psychoanalyzing isn’t going to do anything.”

You…. strongly disagreed. But the slim scar peeking out from her sleeve kept you from saying that. “Bad experience with a therapist?” you asked, flicking your gaze away.

“It never really worked for me.”

“What did?” you asked cautiously.

She paused. Thought about it. Stared at you with an intensity that had you wondering what the hell was going on inside her head. Until eventually, “Jigsaw.”

You blinked. Stared. Tried to figure out how to respond to that.

She thought…. Jigsaw helped?

You didn’t want to judge. Fuck, that was exactly why you’d stormed out of the church. You were self-aware enough to realize that. Different things worked for different people, and different people responded to trauma in different ways, but….

The church doors squealed open. You both shot to your feet and turned around. Your fellow Jigsaw Anonymous members were leaving, the meeting over, spilling out from the doors with all the speed and excitement of molasses being poured out from a jar. You stepped to the side to let them come down the stairs. Amanda did the same, arm brushing yours, and you wrestled the urge to jerk away. You weren’t sure of the last time you’d actually touched someone, or the last time someone had touched you, aside from the gentle but coldly professional hands of doctors and emergency personnel. It was as startlingly foreign as it was familiar.

Amanda seemed completely unaware of your clashing emotions as her gaze locked onto something. You followed her stare to Brandon slowly making his way down the steps. A man with sandy-blond hair and a cane was with him, chatting, the both of them completely oblivious to either of you.

Did she know them? She was staring at them with such an undecipherable intensity and it was the only explanation you could think of. You glanced at the two men again, then back at Amanda. No… she wasn’t staring at them. She was staring at the blond man specifically.

It really wasn’t any of your business, but you couldn’t help but ask, “Do you two know each other?”

“Sorta,” was as much of a response as you got.

Once Brandon and the man reached the bottom of the ramp and went separate ways, Amanda turned back to you. It was just the two of you on the stairs now. And it was a little embarrassing how flustered you were just by her proximity. For fuck’s sake, you didn’t even know her.

Maybe your therapist was right. You did need to get out and be around people more. So you could remember how to fucking act normal again.

“Well.” Amanda bumped her arm against yours again. This time deliberately. You were pretty sure the facial expression you made was not a normal one. “See you round.”

Then she shoved her hands into the pockets of her cargo pants, hopped down the steps, and just. Walked away. You stared after her for longer than necessary.

She was impossible to get a read on. Weirdly confrontational, weirdly evasive, and weirdly magnetic anyway.

You kind of hoped you’d see her again.

She didn’t appear for the next few meetings you obligatorily dragged yourself to. It wasn’t until about a month later that you found her sitting out on the steps again. When you, again, had rushed out to clear your head when the room got too small.

“Hey stranger,” she said, tone somewhere close to teasing. It made you smile. Just a little.

“Hey,” you replied, approaching the stairs. And again, you gestured to the space beside her. “Mind if I join you?”

“Be my guest.”

And so you developed a bit of a routine. She appeared on the steps about once a month, for a reason she never shared and that you never really minded. You would sit on the stairs with her, and the two of you would shoot the breeze. It was a comfortable, casual companionship born from a common factor and convenience. It was never anything very deep. Neither of you were there for therapy, not really. You kept it light, casual. That was the point, wasn’t it?

At least until one day when Amanda was standing by the stairs before the meeting had even started. You didn’t bother to hide your surprise as you approached her and exchanged your usual heys.

“You coming in today?” you asked.

“No. I thought we could head somewhere else.” She tilted her head at you. There was a playfulness to her expression, her smile. A playfulness that made you both a little bit cautious and a little bit excited. “Somewhere a little more fun. Unless you want to stay here. For therapy.” She pointedly lifted her eyebrows at you as she said therapy.

You glanced at the church doors behind her. Really, talking to her about anything but the fact that you were both Jigsaw survivors had done a lot more for you than going to these stupid fucking meetings had.

“Only if you promise not to put me in a death game for smoking,” you joked. Or tried to, at least. It really wasn’t that funny. You winced at yourself. But Amanda, to her credit, just linked her arm through yours. You almost preened at the friendly touch.

“Deal,” she said.

She ended up taking you to a bar. A gay bar, more specifically. You were a bit surprised she’d clocked you so easily but never said a word – but then again, neither had you about her. So you supposed you couldn’t be too surprised.

From there, your casual companionship escalated into something much more like a genuine friendship. You got to know each other properly. You talked about your personal lives and hobbies and interests. You even talked a little bit about Jigsaw, and everything after that. You told her how you’d been struggling with insomnia and how you’d lost your job when you stopped showing up. Because of, y’know, being stuck in a deathtrap. And being too terrified to set foot outside your door for a while after. You told her about the new job you’d gotten and struggled to adjust to. And you told her about your hands.

Nails through the palms Jesus-style. Because according to the hoarse voice on the tape that now haunted your nightmares – “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop”. She’d winced as you told her the story one evening. You’d winced as you’d recollected it. The pain shooting through your fingertips, up your arms, into your very fucking bones. The squelch of blood and muscle, the way you hadn’t been able to stop from screaming or the tears from spilling as you twisted and ripped your hands free of the metal spikes.

It was a miracle they didn’t introduced any infections into your bloodstream, the doctors had told you. A miracle.

You told Amanda how your hands still shook, were still a bit weak. How some days they were worse and some days they were better. And how fine motor skills had become hard now, whereas before you’d taken them for granted. God, had you taken them for granted. You’d been able to write your name, use a knife and fork, all that shit, so damn easily.

It had taken a lot of getting used to.

Amanda has just listened and nodded her head. Understanding. Not offering the grating sympathy people so often flung your way, all the while looking uncomfortably unsure of what to do with your presence and your hands and your experience and your trauma. But Amanda understood. Because of course she did. She knew what you’d been through and where you were coming from.

And she’d even smiled a bit mischievously, glancing down at your hands on the bar counter, and said, “Well, if you ever need help with anything, I’m pretty good with my hands. I could always lend a finger or two.”

Maybe it was the little smirk on her face, the glint in her eye when she said it. Maybe it was the loneliness and then the sudden friendship. Or maybe you’d just been a little too buzzed, but her words had remained lodged in your mind as you tried to go to sleep that night.

Amanda had shared things about herself, too, in the time you’d spent together. It had taken a little longer for her to open up – she was a bit slower, a bit more cautious. She seemed a lot more eager to listen than to do the talking. And you couldn’t fault her for that. But eventually, you learned that she worked as a mechanic, knew a lot about fixing and building machines and shit like that. She had a pet guinea pig that she’d acquired entirely by accident. His name was Pigeon. Her favorite color was red, her favorite bands were Nine Inch Nails and Hole, and her favorite movie was The Princess Bride. Her dad was a piece of shit she hadn’t seen in over a decade, and her relationship with her mom was strained at best. She was an only child.

You’d also learned more about her Jigsaw trap. How she’d become a drug addict in prison, how she’d woken up in a Jigsaw trap for it. How the little puppet with swirls on its cheeks had rolled out of the darkness on a tricycle and told her that she’d survived. And how she’d ended up in a trap a second time, a hellish prison of a house with several other people, most of whom had died.

The news had nearly brought your drink back into your throat. Lighting did strike twice after all. He did pick the same victims more than once.

God, maybe you really did need to quit smoking.

Amanda had placed her hand on your arm. Touch gentle but grounding all the same. And she’d assured you that that wouldn’t happen to you, Jigsaw wouldn’t choose you again. He had no reason to. She said it so confidently, and you so desperately wanted to believe her. That you wouldn’t be taken a second time. Or that she wouldn’t be taken a third. Not that she seemed too concerned about it.

That was the strange thing about her. When she told you about what had happened, she stared down at the counter. Her hands shook a little bit. The memory terrified her.

And yet…. she had this fixation on the idea that Jigsaw had helped her. The trap had gotten her off drugs. It had put her on a completely different path in life. Rather than dying from a drug overdose, she’d gotten clean. He saved me, she’d said, eyes wide and earnest and afraid.

You’d fought against the urge to argue that, to say No, he didn’t save you, he almost killed you. The idea of Jigsaw possibly helping – all while you struggled to sleep and were plagued by nightmares as you did, while you struggled to make your handwriting legible, while you fought the urge to bolt back home as soon as the sun started lowering in the sky? The idea felt like swallowing glass.

Had Jigsaw ever made anyone do that?

But you didn’t say any of that to her. People dealt with trauma in different ways. You supposed this was just her way of dealing with it. And it wasn’t really hurting anyone, so who were you to judge?

It certainly didn’t stop you from going to the bar with her regularly. It didn’t stop you from laughing with her, from getting close to her both emotionally and physically till the edge of your seats were almost touching and your arms were practically interlinked.

It didn’t stop the spark of warmth in your chest when she offered a genuine smile. Or the electric feeling that shot through your veins when she traced her fingers over your knuckles one night, after the conversation had lulled and your drinks had gone lukewarm.

“I wanna try something,” she said, voice soft enough that you would’ve missed it had you not been sitting so close your thighs were pressed together.

Eye contact right now would’ve been like staring into the sun. So instead, you stared at her hand on top of yours. Her knuckles were scratched up as if she’d gotten into a fight. “Sure,” you said slowly. “What did you have in mind?”

Amanda turned to you. You cautiously met her gaze. Christ, it really was like looking at the sun. Warm and beautiful but intense. Burningly intense.

Confusion turned to shock as Amanda hooked two fingers into the neck of your shirt and tugged you closer till her lips were hitting yours. You must’ve made a noise of surprise, because she drew away almost immediately. It was all you could do not to chase her and ask why did you stop? A small crease appeared between her eyebrows and she opened her mouth. And God for a second you thought she was going to apologize, when in fact she really didn’t need to because holy shit.

“Oh thank fuck,” you blurted. “You were flirting with me.”

Concern turned to surprise. Then Amanda laughed, the sound pure relief. “Yeah, I was. Did it take you that long to figure it out?” she teased.

“Uh.” Your face warmed. “Maybe.”

She grinned, then grabbed you by the shirt and kissed you again. Gentle but insistent. Her other hand curled around your nape. You didn’t know what the hell to do with your own hands until one curled around her back and the other ended up braced against the bar counter.

The bar counter. Right. You were very much in public. Sure, it was a queer bar, but it was still public.

So you reluctantly pulled away. Amanda looked confused for a moment before you said, “Hey, maybe we should… do this somewhere else?”

She blinked at you. Then, wordlessly, she wrapped a hand around your wrist and pulled you off your seat. She dragged you past the other patrons and tables – it was a quieter night, so you didn’t have to fight through a sea of people – and pushed through one of the bathroom doors, yanking you in with her and locking the door behind you.

“There,” she said. There was a look to her eyes, a look that made your heart stumble and your entire body go warm. “We’re somewhere else.”

This time when she kissed you, you let her fully take the lead. You slid your arms around her and melted into the kiss, sighing against her. It just made her more eager. She prodded at your lips with her tongue, slipped inside with a sweet little moan that had your heart racing. Sent your head spinning. You backed up till you hit a wall, dragging Amanda with because fuck you weren’t breaking this kiss. Not as she was getting to know you with her teeth and her tongue. She tasted like alcohol and peaches, smelled of loam and sweat and faintly of men’s store-brand bodywash. It was heady, intoxicating. Addicting.

Her hands slipped under your shirt. You shuddered at the exposure to the overly air-conditioned bathroom. Shuddered harder at her warm touch roving across your skin, the slight drag of fingernails over your stomach. Amanda broke the kiss with a wet smack as your muscles tensed underneath her.

“You’re so cute,” she teased. She dragged her fingernails over your skin again with just a little more pressure. You arced into her touch. Fuck. Fuck.

You wished you could come up with some kind of response. Something to convey just how much you were aching for her, both emotionally and physically. How badly and how deeply these emotions were running through you. But words were currently beyond your grasp.

Amanda leaned in and nibbled at your neck as her fingers slid past your waistband and teased the edge of your underwear. You clamped your teeth down on your bottom lip. Heat swirled through your veins, in your stomach, at the base of your spine. You moved your hips a little, just a little, to urge her on. Nails dug into the soft flesh there. A whimper escaped.

“Mandyyyyyyy.”

“Yeahhhhhhh?” She was all mischief and smugness as she looked back up at you. It just made you more desperate.

“Mandy. Please?” You gave her your best pleading look.

“You’re so impatient.” She said the words lightly, playfully. But she must’ve been impatient too, because she was pushing your underwear down. When her fingers brushed against your clit, you gasped and dropped your head back against the wall. Fuck, God, yes, right there –

“You sure you only just figured out I was flirting with you? You seem pretty fucking wet already.” She punctuated her words with a slide of her fingers against you. Because yeah, you were fucking wet. It would’ve been a little humiliating if you weren’t so achingly desperate for her touch.

“Yeah, well.” You drew in an unsteady breath as she circled your clit. A teasing touch that wasn’t quite enough. Fuck, it was impossible to form a coherent thought. “You’re just…. really fucking hot.”

It was hardly eloquent. But her breath puffed against your neck in a laugh. And you figured it would do for now.

She kissed the hollow of your throat, firmly rubbed her thumb against your clit. You practically bucked against her. Her other hand hooked under one of your thighs and lifted, and you threw your leg around her waist. Let out a moan at how it changed the sensation. “Yeah, like that,” Amanda breathed. “Just like that.” She said it as if you were touching her, as if she wasn’t the one doing all the work, wasn’t the one making you writhe and whimper and leak over her precise fingers.

Christ, you hadn’t felt this good in a while.

The pace was languorous, exploratory, testing what made you shiver and dig your nails into her shoulders and gasp for breath. As if she was intent on taking you apart and finding out exactly what got you going – a machine to figure out and put back together. Slowly, slowly, but in a way you savored, you felt the tension inside of you building up and coiling tight like a spring. You were quivering. Your clothes clung to your sweat-sheened skin. The music spilling into the bathroom from the bar wasn’t quite enough to cover the ragged breathing and wet, rhythmic noises, and it just made the whole thing feel even dirtier. Especially with how Amanda was panting against you, as if she was getting off just from you getting off and fuck it made you clench.

When she picked up the pace, you weren’t able to stop the gasps and moans that spilled out of you, the way you panted and pleaded her name. The sound of her fingers squelching against you had you burning. And when your release hit you cried out, clenching, shaking, clinging to Amanda’s shoulders and digging your nails in as you rode out the high. She didn’t stop, didn’t relieve the pressure against your clit. White hot pleasure burned through your body till tears pricked at your eyes. Distantly, she said something. Soft, sweet words that didn’t quite reach your ears as they rang from the intensity of your orgasm.

She only stopped when you went limp against her. Only pulled away from the mess you’d made – that she’d made too, really – to wrap her arms around your hips and kiss you, deep and slow, as if trying to commit you to memory. You lazily brushed your tongue against hers. Your muscles felt like taffy, worn out in the best way.

“You were right,” you said when you parted. “You really are good with your hands.”

Amanda grinned so widely and genuinely that you couldn’t stop yourself from capturing her lips again. Fuck. You might’ve been a little bit in love. Or maybe that was the post-sex endorphins talking. You weren’t sure. You didn’t particularly care either way.

“I think I owe you an orgasm,” you said.

Amanda brushed her nose against yours. For the first time since you’d met her, she actually seemed truly, fully relaxed. As if she’d properly lowered her guard just now, just in this moment, just for you. “Maybe next date.” The words sent a flutter through your chest. Next date. There’d be a next date. “But first,” she said, moving away to grab some paper towels, “we gotta get you cleaned up.”

#ace writes #sfbf23 #amanda young #amanda young x reader #saw #notsft #not totally satisfied with how this turned out but fuck it we ball

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watchingovergvff · 2 years ago

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Kill You To Try- Jake Kiszka

Summary: Will you and Jake ever be able to see eye to eye? Being pining idiots and hating each others guts don’t mix. Let’s find out the hard way then.

Genre: Childhood best friends- enemies- lovers. Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Jake is an asshole. Jealousy and Drinking.

A/N: This is my second favorite thing i’ve ever written. I apologize for my lack of Jake fics, considering I stay in Jake lane 24/7. I’ve been working on this for a couple of weeks and it’s not perfect by any means. I love to hear feedback so please let me know or if you want a part two to this also!! Thank you for all your patience and support<3333

_______________________________________________

Jake has never been jealous of Josh’s relationship with you, well that was until he saw the two of you dancing. Something about the way Josh’s hands caressed the small of your back, made his chest ache in resentment.

That’s where his dislike for you starts. Well, maybe not dislike but irritation at least.

Jake has known you since the 5th grade. You used to run around the playground, picking flowers for each and every one of your classmates. Jake had fallen and scratched up his knee, sniffles sounding out. Feeling a gentle tap on his shoulder, he turns around to find you smiling down at him.

“Are you okay?” you peer down at him.

“My knee hurts.”

Handing him the prettiest flower out of your bouquet, “Here this should make you feel better.” Jake admires your toothless grin from below, already feeling much better. It didn’t take much longer after that for him to decide to keep you around.

Jake and Josh were a package deal so being best friends with Josh was inevitable. Growing up, you always found that Josh matched your energy to-a-tee. He was your best friend, the one that always knew how to make you laugh. But, Jake was different. Jake felt like your home, your safe place.

That was until he started acting like an asshole out of nowhere. One day you were fine, the next day you weren’t.

It hurt like hell. There’s truly no way to describe losing your better half, other than heartbreak. Maybe it wouldn’t have hurt so bad, if you weren’t utterly in love with him.

As the years go by, Jake continues his relentless cycle of torture. The snide comments or blatant disrespect, never compared to the pain of him ignoring you. Josh was dumbfounded at Jake’s behavior toward you. He could have sworn Jake was in love with you, but it’s not the first time Jake has surprised him. Josh was tired of constantly calling Jake out on his shit. He understood if Jake just didn’t get along with you anymore, but the disrespect was uncalled for.

Over time, you got used to Jake’s nasty behavior and decided to not let it bother you. If he was going to act like a child then so be it, you would be the mature one.

The boy’s music career had shot up since high school, which meant less time spent together and more time touring the world. Saying your goodbyes was hard, but was inevitable. In the meantime, your life would live on in Michigan, while theirs roamed the world.

Life caught up with all of you, which meant less phone calls and no time for visits. Josh kept his promise when he said he would call once a week. He loved giving you every detail of tour since you couldn’t be there. You had been with them since before they even decided to be a band, so not having you around was weird for all of them, even Jake.

After being away for a year, the tour has finally come to an end. Sam being Sam decides to throw a coming home party, mourning the end of tour but celebrating their return.

Being Josh’s right-hand man comes with its perks, so when you get the invitation to their “exclusive” party, you can’t turn the opportunity down.

Would it be weird to say that you hit a second puberty over the past year? Probably, yes. But, you were being truthful. All those years begging and pleading your body to catch up with your maturing mind, payed off it seems. You finally felt good in your own shoes. So, when the hot guy from the local coffee shop asks for your number, who are you to say no.

Having had plans for a date the night of the party, you suggest that the two of you attend a good friend’s party. Surprisingly, he agrees to go with you, let’s just hope he’s used to crazy.

____

“Josh will you please shut the fuck up? I don’t want to hear her name again, please,” Jake groans out.

Whipping his head in Jake’s direction Josh says, “She’s my best friend. I’m allowed to be excited to see her Jake.”

Jake gives his best effort to not roll his eyes, but fails.

“It’s not like you have to talk to her. I’m sure she isn’t thrilled to see you either, after how shitty you’ve been,” Josh mumbles, leaving the room.

Huffing like a child, Jake does his best to calm his nerves. He is not prepared whatsoever to see you after all this time.

____

Jake already knew it would be hard to see you, but seeing you with some guy makes his façade shatter completely. Pre-gaming seems to have been a bust, because he has never felt soberer in his life.

“Sunshine!” Josh’s bright smile distracts you from scanning the crowd any longer, silently searching for his other half.

After Josh has gotten his fill of hugs and kisses from you, he makes quick work of introducing himself to your date.

Josh’s love for first impressions allows you to quickly excuse yourself, wanting to find a drink strong enough to get through the night.

Scanning the crowd, you see him. Sitting in a secluded corner of the room, slowly sipping on his drink.

Realizing his eyes had been on you since stepping in the doorway, you allow yourself one quick glance in his direction. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of actively looking for him, you walk the opposite direction, silently hoping he’ll follow you.

Is Jake an asshole to you? Yes.

Does he deserve even a second of your time? Hell no.

But, there’s still a part of you that longs for the Jake you once knew so well. It’s foolish to believe that after all this time he has changed, but you can’t help but wish for it.

Fixing a drink, you smile at people in passing or attempt to make small talk.

Feeling him before you see him, his presence looms over you like no other.

Jake sits onto the countertop next to you, plucking the cherry out of your drink. Grinning wickedly at you, he sucks the cherry into his mouth.

If you hadn’t been so focused on his cherry stained lips, you would have slapped the audacity right out of him.

“See something you like, sunshine?”

“Fuck off Jake,” you glare up at him.

“Don’t be like that, where’s my welcome home hug?” he pouts.

“Assholes don’t get welcome home hugs. They get a foot up their ass instead. Would you like me to demonstrate?”

He chuckles.

Jumping off the counter, he says, “It’s good to see you to, Sunshine.”

Watching him saunter off to his dark corner, you exhale, trying to regain your footing. Jake has always had a way of making your head feel all fuzzy, no matter what bullshit he was spewing.

____

Sam had made the executive decision to start a bonfire later into the night.

The party had dwindled down to very few people at this point.

Your date had decided to head home early because he had work the following morning. The both of you had agreed to see each other again soon. He seemed extremely nice, but you had a feeling it wouldn’t work out due to your complicated past resurfacing.

But, you were in desperate need of a distraction sadly.

Which left you snuggled under Josh’s arm, sharing childhood stories around the fire. Very clique, but it happened every time you all got together and had a few drinks.

Jake’s eyes haven’t left your figure since you walked in the door. The moment in the kitchen with you replaying in his mind over and over again. He could have sworn you looked at him, like he’s always looked at you.

Hanging on to every word that comes out of your mouth, Jake yearns for your affection.

Over the years, Jake has had love interests that weaved in and out of his life. He’d never been in love with any of them, but unconsciously found parts of you in them.

Deflecting his feelings for you by pretending to dislike you is better than being rejected by the one person he loves most, at least that’s what he tells himself.

He longs to hold you close like Josh.

Was his fear of rejection worth losing his best friend?

____

Weeks have passed since the night of the party. Danny had graciously taken you home that night, promising to have a lunch date soon.

Remember the guy you brought with you to said party, you know, the one you agreed to see again?

Well, the time has come to meet up again. The both of you agree to get drinks at a local bar in town. Your excited to go out actually. He’s a cute guy who seems to have a genuine interest in you. Plus, he could be the solution to your irritating Jake problem. It’s been a while since you’ve gotten all dolled up anyway, so this is a great excuse.

Finally feeling satisfied with how you look, you head out the door. Don’t get it twisted, you’re not dressing for him. Putting on a pretty outfit and delicate makeup is all for you, mostly because it’s fun.

High school is rough for everyone. Puberty, delayed growth spurts, acne, braces, and social standards never complimented each other. Having struggled with each and every aspect of an awkward stage during high school.

Feeling beautiful is hard when everyone around is trying to be anyone but themselves. So, you could say high school was rough for you.

You never thought of yourself as beautiful or magnificent. Mostly putting yourself into the dull category, because there was truly nothing special about you.

But, Jake always had a way of proving you wrong.

Jake watched you grow from a gentle and kind young lady, into a breath-taking woman.

Having always thought you were beautiful in every stage of life, Jake truly wouldn’t know where to start.

_____

The bar was lit up with string lights, softly playing music.

Lucky for you, the bar was just a block over from your house, so you were able to walk over. Hoping that your date went well enough for you to hitch a ride home with him.

You arrived on time, perching yourself atop the nearest bar stool. He had messaged you saying he was running behind, but he shouldn’t be too long. So, you had decided to wait at the bar for him.

____

Hours have passed and your still sat atop a barstool, downing your sixth drink of the night. You came to the conclusion about two hours ago, that he was indeed not coming after all.

“Ma’am, do you have a ride home? We’re closing up shop here, so you’re going to have to leave soon,” the older bartender asks you.

“Yeah, yeah sorry. Let me call a friend of mine really quick,” you fumble around, looking for your phone.

Securing your phone in your hand, you go to call Josh. He wouldn’t mind coming to get you.

“Hello?”

“Hey Josh, I know its late but I need a ride home. I’m at the bar down the street, but I’ve had too much to drink to walk home in the dark. Can you please come get me?” anxiously fidgeting in your seat.

“I’ll be there in five. Stay right there,” he hangs up abruptly.

He did not sound happy whatsoever. Making Josh mad was not on your to do list today.

It’s just kind of weird. Josh never minds picking you up, he actually insists its him you call. He’s probably having a rough day, don’t over think it.

It hadn’t even been five minutes when you heard your name being called behind you.

Except that voice was definitely not Josh’s.

Out of all people you could have accidentally called, it had to be him. Your night couldn’t get any worse.

Spinning around on your chair, you sigh, waiting for him to provoke you.

He looks at you worriedly, almost like you would shatter any second now.

You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“What? What did I do now?” Jake questions, conscious of your every move.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

You glare at him.

“Like I’m some fucking lost puppy.”

“Don’t give me a reason to,” he bites back.

Running your hands across your face, you realize just how tired you were. “Jake, I can’t do this with you right now. I’ve had a shitty day. Can you please just take me home?”

He reluctantly nods, heading out the door with you in tow.

The two of you climb into his car and begin your silent ride home.

Jake’s never seen you like this. He’s used to you being angry especially at him. Granite, he does love to get you riled up.

But, his favorite is when your happy. When you smile so big, that it throws him back to the day he met you, with your big toothless grin shining down on him.

His sunshine now turning into rain.

So, he respects the silence for once in his life, letting you have your moment. Watching the tears gather in your eyes, brings along a feeling he’s not familiar with.

Rage.

Gripping the steering wheel, he feels steam run off of him, allowing his knuckles to turn white.

It’s one thing for him to tease and mock you, but another for some asshole to think he can and get away with it.

Jake wants now more than anything to be Josh for you. To make you smile and laugh. He can’t bare to see you like this any longer.

“Do you want to play some music? I’ll even let you choose,” he speaks softly, almost like he doesn’t want to run you off.

You peer up at him in confusion. Where the hell did Jake go?

Shifting anxiously under your gaze, Jake mumbles a quick never mind.

It’s been years since the two of you have had a civil conversation, so this feels unnatural.

“Do you remember when Sam had a crush on you?” doing his best to break the ice.

You snort.

His heart flutters seeing you laugh at something he said for once.

“Do I? The kid followed me around for weeks asking me all kinds of weird questions. It took you telling him that I had cooties because of you to back off,” you laugh out.

Sam was never a smooth talker, that’s for sure.

Jake laughs.

You watch in awe, begging for him to never stop laughing again.

Eventually, Jake pulls into your driveway. The two of you sit in silence for a moment, just wanting to bask in the normalcy for once.

You pull the door open, stepping out of the car. Turning around, you give him a tight-lipped smile.

“Thanks Jake, for everything,” looking anywhere but at him.

“No need to thank me, I’d do it again. If you really wanted to thank me, you could tell me where that guy lives so I can kick his ass,” he smiles up at you, only slightly kidding.

Laughing you wave goodbye, praying that he doesn’t see how flustered you were.

Once you’ve made it inside, Jake sits in the driveway, contemplating everything that happened tonight.

On the way home, Jake realizes he regrets not apologizing for everything he’s said that he truly didn’t mean.

____

Days pass and Jake hasn’t heard a peep from or about you. Josh claims that your trying to heal from getting your heartbroken, but Jake has a feeling something else is wrong.

He is terrified that he may have done something to hurt or upset you once again. He is sick and tired of being the one that hurts you.

So, Jake makes the impulsive decision to go see you. Josh protests saying “Jake is the last person you would want to see right now”. In authentic Jake fashion, he doesn’t give a flying fuck.

____

The drive to your house was torture. Jake didn’t know what the right thing to say would be or what he should do.

Thinking back to simpler times, he remembers the time he saw you the summer of 9th grade.

____

That summer was a weird one for all of you.

Jake and Josh finally went through a growth spurt and started filling into their teenage bodies.

They hadn’t seen you all summer because your family sent you to summer camp.

Jake had come home one day, looking for Josh. He heard Josh’s voice float down the hallway from the garage. Making his way in that direction, he heard a second voice. Recognizing that sweet voice anywhere, Jake strides down the hall in search of you.

Once in the garage, he froze in his tracks. It was definitely you, but different. Jake remembers your straggly hair and your scraped knees. He remembers a little girl, his best friend.

You were no longer a little girl, you were a young woman.

You had bloomed into a stunning flower. Jake felt breathless.

But, after all you were still you. Jake was still Jake.

Best friends forever, but maybe it had always been more than that.

____

Jake and Josh hauled you everywhere. Every show they played you were there.

Believing in their success was never difficult for you. The moment you heard them play together, you knew everything would change.

When the boys played their first big show, you had tagged along not wanting to miss a second of it. Their set had finally come to an end that night. Trotting off the stage, Jake immediately went looking for you. He’d kept an eye on you throughout the show, always feeling better with you close by.

Feeling a hand grip his wrist, he spins around in search of the culprit.

Wrapping him into a bear hug, you squeeze him tight.

Pulling away from you he notices tears in your eyes.

“What’s wrong? Was the show that bad?”

You slap at his chest.

“No, you idiot. These are happy tears. I’m just so proud of you guys. Thank you for letting me be here,” you smile up at him.

“Thank you for wanting to be here. I couldn’t have done it without you,” he remarks.

Arriving at your house, he stumbles up to your porch and forces himself to knock on your door. After what seems to be the longest two minutes of his life, you answer the door.

You clearly just woke up from a nap, your hair a wild mess. Of course, Jake thinks its adorable.

Obviously, your taken aback as to why Jake would be standing on your front porch. You begin to question him, but he stops you.

“Can I come in? We need to talk,” he says, barely looking you in the eye.

“Yeah sure, sure,” you say, stepping aside.

Looking around, Jake realizes he’s never been inside your house before. Your windows are wide open, welcoming the sunlight in. Music playing softly from your record player. Books littered all over the room. It feels like home, yet so unfamiliar.

Clearing your throat, you see him jump, clearly on edge.

Once the two of you have gotten comfortable on your sofa, you realize she how quiet it is. Giving him a small smile, in hopes to provide some sort of comfort due to his jitteriness. He melts at the sight of your kind gesture.

“Are you feeling better” he asks.

Chuckling nervously, you reply, “Way better than the last time you saw me. Thank you for that by the way. I meant to text you afterwards, but I was just too tired.”

“You don’t have to thank me, I wanted to.”

You stare at him blankly.

“You wanted to save me from one of the most embarrassing nights of my life?”

“No no no, I didn’t mean it like that, I just like helping you or being the one you call.”

Giving him an exasperated sigh, you sink deeper into your chair.

“Jake, why are you here?”

He sighs, remembering the real reason he came after all. “I don’t even know where to start. I just wanted to apologize, for everything. You never deserved how I treated you. You’ve always been such an enigma to me. I couldn’t ever figure out why you were so kind to me, even after I pushed you away.”

“Then why did you push me away Jake? When all I’ve ever wanted was to be close to you.”

“I felt like I had to. You and Josh had gotten so close. I was selfish and got jealous. I’ve had to share everything with Josh my whole life. The one thing I never ever wanted to share was you. At the time, I felt like you had finally made your decision and it was Josh that you chose. It hurt too much to see the both of you together, so I made myself distance from you. A few years after I came to my senses and realized I was being selfish making you choose between the both of us, I wanted to make things right. I bought flowers and wrote out my whole apology speech, just to get to your front door and cower away. I felt like there would be no way you would forgive with such a lame ass excuse at that point. I had already dug deep enough. So, I made myself learn how to hate you, even though that’s the farthest thing from the truth. I--- I’m just so sorry Y/n. I never want to hurt you again. Being the one you called that night at the bar made me realize just how much I missed you. I miss talking to you, laughing with you, and sitting with you. I miss everything. I want to make it right, no matter what it takes. You deserve it, you always have.”

Hiding his face within his hands, in order to keep some composure, he hears a sniffle. Quickly looking up, Jake comes face to face with your tearful smile.

Tears poor down your face, while grinning ear to ear.

Reaching over, Jake gently wipes your tears away. You reach up and cup his shaky hands, holding them against your face.

“You’re such a dumbass.”

The both of you die out with chocked up laughter.

“You should have just told me Jake. I’ve always loved you both and I always will. But, my love for you is different, it always has been. You’re my best friend. Josh is my brother, the one that shields me. I had a sneaking suspicion that may have been what triggered your behavior, but I was too pissed to talk about it with you. Your right, I didn’t deserve the treatment you gave me, but I saw right through that bullshit. You forget that I watched you grow up. You’ve always been my sweetheart, the friend that would go above and beyond for you. I never truly believed you hated me, I just wanted to give you time to figure yourself out, no matter how long it took. I forgive you Jake. I think I forgave you a long time ago, but was always too prideful to admit it to myself.”

Grinning at each other, Jake pulls you into a tight hug. Being this close to one another after years of pining, felt like a dream.

Finally, you pull away realizing just how close the two of you were. Feeling Jake’s breath gently against your skin, you glance down at his lips. Jake’s breathing all together stops.

Quickly, your mind comes to its senses and the both of you awkwardly pull away.

Scratching the back of his neck, Jake says, “I guess I should head back to the studio now. Josh is going to kill me if I’m late again.”

“Oh yeah, of course. I know how cranky he can get,” you laugh off. Leading him out your front door, you turn to walk back inside.

“Y/n,” Jake calls out.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

You smile so wide, your bottom lip shakes.

Waving him off, you head back inside. Laying against the door, your head feels fuzzy from just his smile.

____

Five minutes later, Jake finds himself pulling right back into your driveway. He marches right out of his car, straight up to your porch once again. In a tizzy, he begins banging on your door.

Rushing to see what the ruckus is about, you swing open your door.

“Miss me already?” you chuckle out.

“Marry me.”

“What?”

The both of you stand there looking at each other, daring the other to speak up.

“I’m sorry that’s not what I meant to say, I was trying to tell you-

You tug him by his collar, kissing him softly.

Eventually, the two of you pull away trying to catch your breath. Resting his head against yours, you both smile.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” you whisper out.

Jake chuckles in disbelieve. “No way, I’ve been dreaming of that since 7th grade.”

He takes your hand in his, squeezing so tight in hopes to convey his love for you. Immediately understanding, you bring your hand up to gently stroke his hair.

“Well, we could keep standing out here looking at one another, or we can go inside and kiss some more,” you say.

Jake hastily responses, “Inside please.”

____

Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed!!!!

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frogsmuahh037 · 11 months ago

Text

Joel miller hurt/comfort

this is my first time trying to write something like this so please be nice also sorry about spellings 🫶

joel miller x fem!reader

you’re having a bad day and joel is there to support you (we all love a little hurt comfort every once in a while)

1460 Words

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

she walks into her home joel and her have made for themselves in Jackson. she was having a bad day everything was just going wrong, she was helping in the gardens she smashed not one but two pots (two separate occasions by the way) she sliced her hand open somehow on the pot which made clean up a whole lot messier and that was only the start of it. when she finally got home she was overwhelmed all she wanted was to curl up in bed and sleep. she walks into the house and it’s a mess after joel saying he’d promise to clean up which obviously didn’t happen. instead of greeting joel in the living room like she usaly would she headed straight upstairs just wanting to get away from it all. As she headed to bed, Joel was leaning against the doorway watching her, his brow slightly scrunched together. Once he saw that she had settled herself in, he sighed and approached her. He wanted to leave it at that, but he felt like they had to talk about what had been happening. So he sat down at the foot of her bed, hands on his knees.

"Sweetie, we have to talk."

she looked up from the cocoon of duvets she was wrapped in meeting joel’s eyes she knew the tone of his voice, the slight hesitation that it wasn’t a conversation that he wanted to have.

“what about?..”

Joel paused, his eyes slowly looking at her for a moment. Then he breathed in and out once.

"Can you come out from under those covers? Please?"

she sat up pushing the covers to her lap she bit at her cracked bottom lip feeling an anxiety ball in her stomach “what’s wrong joel?”

Joel crossed his left leg on top of his right, moving his hands to his lap. In a neutral expression, he looked her in the eye again, and sighed. "Sweetie, I'm worried about you."

“why? i’m fine” she looked up at him smiling hoping that would calm his worry’s and she wouldn’t have to further this conversation

"No, you're not." He quickly shot down, leaning forward in his chair again. "I'm not blind; I see the way you act sometimes. This whole thing with the gardening...that's not normal."

“gardening..isn’t normal?” she smiled trying to brush it off.

Joel gave her a soft smile, but he shook his head and spoke up again."No, sweetheart, losing your temper over a couple of broken pots isn't normal. Not when you're such a calm, level-headed person. Are you sure everything's okay?"

“how do you… i’m fine it was just a mistake how did you know about that..?” she felt herself get more anxious looking down at her lap fidgeting her her hands.

Joel looked up and raised his eyebrows slightly, wondering how to explain it in a way that wouldn't make him seem like a stalker.

"One of the neighbors...umm...they mentioned it in passing. Said you seemed really stressed out. I wanted to make sure you were okay and..." Joel paused for a moment, realizing he had no way to avoid sounding like a creep. "And that I didn't need to worry."

“well you don’t because i’m fine joel” she pulls the covers off her hoping to escape the conversation by making some excuse “i think i’m gonna go make some dinner it’s getting late”

"Is it something I'm doing? Or is it something to do with the past; something that makes you like this sometimes?" Joel shook his head.

"It's not just the pots, and deep down you know that. I know there's more going on, so how about you talk to me instead of brushing me off?" He paused and looked her in the eyes, showing some worry.

“like what joel? what have i done” she felt herself getting irritated with the constant questioning she knew he wanted to do right by her but she just felt so weird talking about that kinda stuff

"Sweetie, you know that there's something...off." He paused for a moment. "Look at how you've been acting. Always in a bad mood, always irritated and you snap at me for no reason. I'm not angry, I'm not blaming you, I just want to know what's going on." He paused again, and sighed.

"And if there's anything I can do to help." He said, his tone now softer.

she felt the guilt seeping through her. she knew she hasn’t been a very good partner recently and joel’s been so good through all of it he didn’t deserve that. she felt her chest clam up and a lump in her throat that she couldn’t quite swallow “i-i’m… i’m sorry joel”

"It's okay, sweetheart. You're going through a lot, I understand that. But I am here to support you however I can, and you just have to be open with me and let me know what's going on." He paused, and pulled away from the hug. He placed his hands back in his lap. "Please."

“i don’t know how.. how to explain it. everything has just been going wrong and every time i try to fix it everything just gets worse and i- i don’t know what to do”

she only just noticed the tears rolling down her face clouding her vision. Joel gave her a warm, empathetic smile, then got up from the chair. As he stood, he knelt down to her level and hugged her once more. He just stayed still for a moment, but then spoke softly.

"It's okay, sweetie. Sometimes life just decides it wants to kick you in the ass and you just have to take it. You know you can always count on me to support you through it all. That's what I'm here for."

“i just feel so weak asking for help i should be able to handle this kinda stuff on my own why… why can’t i?” she mumbled into joel’s chest her tears getting heavier as she comes to terms with how she’s feeling. Joel kissed the top of her head, not speaking for a couple of seconds. He then hugged her tighter and sighed once more.

"Sweetheart, you don't have to handle it on your own. There's nothing shameful about asking for help. You're one of the toughest people I know and even you get overwhelmed now and then. Life's just an ass like that." He paused, then looked her in the eyes once more. “So talk to me, okay? I'm here to help."

“i will… im sorry for being so mean to you, you didn’t deserve it” she looked up at him still feeling guilty.

Joel smiled warmly and waved his hand. "Sweetie, no apologies necessary. I understand what you're going through, and I know you don't mean any of it. What's past is past, and I'm not upset. So how about we start over? Clean slate?" He paused and held out his hand to her. "Shake on it?" He said, his tone slightly light-hearted and teasing.

she smiled laughing at his antics. “yeah shake on it”she takes his and shaking it “do you think we could..ehm go to bed?” she was starting to feel really tired she felt awkward asking for some reason.

"Sure we can, sweetheart." He leaned down and picked her up from the floor. "You ready for this big strong man to carry you to bed?" He said jokingly, walking towards the bedroom. As he entered the room, he sat down on the bed and looked at her for a moment, smiling before he placed her down and leaned back onto the mattress.

she giggles grasping onto joel not wanting to fall “don’t you dare drop me”

"I wouldn't dare drop you, sweetheart. Not when you're so precious to me." he lays her down on the bed getting her comfortable he lays next to her "Come and cuddle with me," He said, opening up his arms and gesturing towards himself. they get into bed and she snuggled up to joel’s chest as her wrapped her arms around her

Joel let go of an arm around her and pulled the covers over them both, moving closer to her once more. He rubbed his hand against her back and looked to see if she was comfortable, and then kissed the top of her head again. "Are you ready to take a little bit of a nap? It's late, and you seem pretty tired," He said with a kind, calm tone.

“mhm~ yes please” she mumbled into his chest. They both stayed still for a moment, before Joel began to slowly nod off, feeling his eyes get heavier by the second. As he felt her do the same, he softly whispered,

"Get some sleep, Sweetheart."

✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩

THANK YOUU~ i hope you enjoyed it i know it’s a little short and i’d love any feedback you have <33

p.s. requests are open!

#joel miller x reader #tlou #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller comfort #joel x reader #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller x you

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xxventiswindblumexx · 2 years ago

Text

Got inspired and made a Modern!Scaramouche x FemReader!

Tagging @hitomisuzuya because they're the local Scara simp 💜

⚠Warnings⚠:Alcohol Consumption, unprotected sex, Scara being an ass, cigarette useage.

Bad Influence

Scaramouche, the indigo haired male you've come to swoon over despite being told not to. He's a distant man, often straying away from people, always hanging out in alleyways and the roof of the collage you both attend.

You love him. He makes the sun shine brighter and the stars twinkle brighter. Your heart beats faster when he touches your back to move past or to move you aside.

You want to kiss him so bad it hurts.

The worst part is he didn't really acknowledge your existence, always brushing over your attempts to talk, only ever sparing you the time of day to ask where something or someone was. You've never given up though because you're determined to win his affections. He may be cold and unapproachable, but you have a stubborn streak. Even if it took an extra few months to get to him, he eventually would come around. The world just needed a little push in that direction.

Normally people would say this is a good thing, being as he was a bad influence, constantly in trouble. But that didn't stop your determination to gain his affection . Scaramouche has a lot to do with your current predicament. A couple days ago you were hanging out with some friends at the collage and you got roped into drinking after school. A large party raged as it was being hosted by the popular Football player Itto, you only went because your friend dragged you here, however you got into a drinking game with her and some others resulting in your head going fuzzy, you excused yourself to go try and find the bathroom, not that you needed to go but you hoped it would be quieter to try and collect your self.

You never realized that Scaramouche had also dormed in the same dormitory as Itto, never really been thought of until your hand gripped the wrong doorknob, opening it to a dark room. It was hard to see compared to the flashing lights of the party.

You didn't have much time to make out what room you had entered before hearing him, it was Scaramouche's room, he was laying on his bed, face flushed, distorted into an angry look with his hand gripping his cock, now red and throbbing. You had walked in on him during such an intimate moment.

"Hey dumbass! Can you hear me?! I asked why the hell you opened my door! " he shouted , making you jump from the sound of his voice. You were still trying to regain your composure, you felt a blush coming onto your cheeks and your eyes darted to anywhere else

"S-Sorry! I didn't know this was y-your room, I'll just-"

"Hey aren't you that weirdo that keeps following me around like a lost puppy? Yeah, Y/N wasn't it?" He sighed sitting up some not even bothering to cover himself, his soft indigo hair sticking to his face with sweat as his dangerous eyes looked at you.

Your face blushing hard not sure what to do, mind swirling with thoughts as your body heated up, dampening your panties.

This was one instance where you wished you weren't a girl. At least that way you'd have enough self control and wouldn't be acting like a hormonal teenager.

Scaramouche smirked noticing how flustered you seemed.

"Close the door and come over here" He commanded in a dark tone, you could leave if you wanted, he wasn't forcing you to stay but..this is what you've been fantasizing about since you seen him, to be in his arms at his

You did as he requested and stood facing him, your fingers fiddling with each other in front of you. You could feel your chest tighten with nervousness, your breath getting short. You were shaking lightly, you couldn't believe you were doing this. You were practically going through every sexual fantasy you had ever had.

He sat in his bed facing you "On your knees" he said as you complied, now level to his throbbing member, a bead of precum now gathering on the tip

"Suck it"

he said as you obliged. His lips wrapped around and sucked the bead off, earning a groan from him in response. Twirling your tongue around the head as you made your way further to take him whole , taking deep breaths in effort not to gag while you did so. Once he gave you permission you lifted your head, his dick twitching and leaking more fluid in response, the sight giving you all kinds of pleasure. It was like watching a fucking porn star, you swore you couldn't breathe as it sent shivers up your spine.

He pulled you up and onto his bed as his lips pushed against yours, his slender fingers making quick work of your shorts and panties, plunging two into your soaking heat, muttering against your lips "You're already so wet, you've been thinking about doing this have you slut? " his lilac eyes half lidded as his soft lips pressed against your neck, sucking and biting against the skin. "Tell me how badly you need this bitch..."

you moaned, his hand roaming your body as you moved your hips against his hand, his mouth moving towards your breasts as his hot breath warmed them. "Fuck... i-I need you scara" you moaned out , pulling away from your neck for air."Good" he breathed out as you felt the tip nudge against your hole

"you better be glad I'm inpatient tonight or I'd make you wait for it, you're mine now~" he murmured, thrusting once, then again into you. This caused you to let out another cry, feeling your stomach contract as your pussy clamped down on his cock, pushing your own arousal to greater heights, "Please...." you whimpered

"Please what? " he asked groaning some as his hips snap back against yours in a harsh pace, your cries now louder as your inner walls rubbed against the base of his cock, you tried to move back against him and he pulled away from you as you began to shake, feeling your legs trembling underneath you

"Please faster, deeper" you begged, moaning out as he growled, his hips picking up pace as his nails cut into your soft hips, arousal dripping down the length of his cock. He shoved harder as you bucked your hips, feeling your orgasm begin to build.

"Shit!" he grunted as he thrust into you as deep as possible, causing you to gasp and squirm underneath him, "Oh Fuck Y/N you're going to cum like a fucking whore" he groaned as he came inside you, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he continued to thrust into you, his breathing heavy as he held you close to him, his cock pulsating inside you. You felt your climax building as you felt your body tense up, your muscles clenching around him as you cried out loud. Your vision began turning white as you felt a small surge in your core as you finished your high. As the last wave left you, the pressure on your lower abdomen subsided, leaving you weak and exhausted as your entire body quivered.

His body laying besides yours, it didn't take long for you to smell that familar smell of cigarette smoke, His arm behind your head as your leaned against him. You both lay in silence, content to just lie there, listening to the faint sounds of partying.

#scaramouche smut #genshin scaramouche

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awkwardlyfangirly · 2 years ago

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HII So, I've been binge-reading your works for the past few days and wanted to ask if you could write a Leo x Fem Reader who isn't very fond of touching or any sort of affection but eventually warms up to it because she realizes how much it would mean to Leo? (and also realizes how much she likes it too after he got in an accident or smth) I love your stories sm btw keep up the good work :D

*gasp* PAIGETHEPAPER79 HI i know you I've seen your likes and comments!! you're so sweet!! ofc i will write this for u >:)))

I haven't been writing much lately, but i switched prompts and started on this one and got it done in a couple of days! so i guess my brain needed a switch-up haha

i think i went off the prompt a bit as i wrote lol hope u enjoy anyways!!

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rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles fanfiction ~ Leonardo x female reader ~ cw/tw: discomfort with being touched; injury, broken bones, wounds, bandages, etc. etc. haha

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He notices it pretty quickly, only after a month of dating.

You’re watching a movie in the living room -- just the two of you, sitting side-by-side in beanbags -- and you’re watching him out of the corner of your eye. He’s going to make a move. He’s going to touch you. You know he is. He always does.

He’s leaning towards you, scooching towards you, reaching out his arm to hug your shoulders and tug you closer to himself.

You’ve been telling yourself over and over for the past month that you’ll get used to it. That casual gestures of physical affection are normal and healthy and it’s weird that you struggle with it and just grin and bear it and it’ll be okay and you’ll get used to it. But you haven’t gotten used to it. At all.

Every time he’s near you, you tense up. You stand in nervous suspension, just waiting for his fingers to creep around yours, or his arm to close in on your shoulders, or his knee to bear down on yours. It’s coming. It’s coming. You have to wait. You have to wonder what it’ll be.

It hasn’t gotten easier. At all.

And right now -- in the living room, in the beanbags, stiffening yourself as his weight settles against yours, biting down hard on your tongue as your heart starts to beat louder under the stifling pressure of his affection.

He presses his beak against the side of your head.

You carefully control your breathing. In. Out. In. Out.

His arm is around your shoulders, his fingers gently rubbing at your skin, and the air is closing in around you. Your skin is crawling against his contact. You need to scream and run away and bathe yourself forever.

In. Out.

“Hey, Y/n?” Leo says suddenly. “You good?”

You nod and flash a tight smile. “Yep! All good.”

“No,” he says. “No, no, you’re not all good. What is it?” And he reaches for the remote to pause the movie, and hugs you even closer.

“I’m fine,” you reassure. “I’m fine, I’m fine.”

And he won’t let it alone.

“You’re tense,” he says. “You’re all tense and shaky. I’ve noticed it before -- too often to ignore -- you good?? You good??”

Finally you can’t hold it inside anymore.

“Fine, fine,” you gulp, leaning forward, and he grabs your hand and twists your fingers around his own.

Let go of me.

“I… I don’t like touch,” you say, quietly. “I don’t like to be touched.”

“What? You don’t like… what?”

“Touch,” you snap. “I don’t like to be touched. And you touch me constantly and it drives me crazy and --”

“Whoa, whoa.” He lets go, sits back. “Oh my gosh, you’re serious? Y/n, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t want to hurt your feelings!!”

“I’d rather you were comfortable than my feelings were unhurt! My feelings are hurt now!! Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry.” And he reaches out for your shoulder, and you flinch, and he winces and pulls his hand back. “Ah. Sorry.”

“Leo, I feel so bad. You’re so touchy and --”

“No! Don’t apologize! I need to apologize, not you.” He takes a deep breath and puts a hand over his heart. “Y/n…” and he kneels on the floor in front of you. “...allow me to humbly, sincerely apologize for what I’ve put you through. I had no idea that you were uncomfortable with being touched. I have been touching you at every given opportunity. I have caused you so much undeserved stress and discomfort and I am so, so sorry. Please forgive me. Please give me another chance. I will try my absolute best -- I will chain my hands to my sides -- I will…”

“Leo, love,” you laugh. “It’s okay. Really. Apology accepted.”

He grins at you but then his eyes turn serious. “Feel free to remind me, okay? It’s kind of second nature for me. It Will happen again. So just remind me, smack my hands, whatever, okay? I want you to be comfortable. I want you to feel free to tell me whenever something is bothering you.”

You wipe your sweaty palms on your legs. “Okay.”

“Good.” He smiles at you and starts the movie again and sits down in his beanbag -- a safe distance away.

He follows through. He does his absolute best in not touching you but sometimes you feel his arm start to press against yours before he can stop himself; or his hand reach for yours before he can think about it.

And you start to notice how much he tells you he loves you. You start to notice all the little notes and trinkets he slides to you under the table.

He liked you for a while before you started dating; he already cares about you so much. And he can’t hold it in. And his natural outlet is touch. And, denied that, he’s turning to the other outlets he can find.

But it’s still not natural for him; you can tell. He’s doing it, and it’s getting easier, but he’d rather press his forehead to yours than buy you your favorite snack, and he’d rather kiss the back of your hand than whisper ‘i love you’ every time he’s close enough to you.

You feel so bad. So, so bad.

So bad that you’re holding his natural means of expressing love away from him.

But also -- also, nothing has ever made you feel more special and noticed than the way that as soon as he learned what you needed from him, he immediately adjusted himself for you.

You’ve never felt more loved than when you notice him holding himself back from putting a hand on your knee, or when he writes ‘you’re the light of my life’ one hundred and fifty-three times on a post-it note and hands it to you over coffee.

And so today you’re psyching yourself up in the mirror in your apartment, bouncing from foot to foot and shaking your hands.

“You can do this!” you scream at yourself. “You! Can! Do! This! For him!! For Leo!! DO IT FOR LOVE!! DO IT FOR LOVE!!”

And you do it. You do it for love.

You’re meeting up with Leo for breakfast; and as you walk out of the restaurant and head for the entrance to the lair, you take a deep breath and reach your hand out towards his.

He glances down in surprise as your fingers make contact, and then he looks up at you -- you keep your eyes fixed ahead, determined to not look over at him -- and he carefully curls his fingers around yours.

You count in your mind.

…six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven…

Fifteen seconds, and then you let go, rubbing your fingertips together and fighting the urge to wash your hands.

He lets go as soon as you do, moving away from you respectfully.

And it’s still not much easier. You try to gently adjust yourself to touch, try to brush your shoulder against his or hold his hand for a few more seconds each time; but your skin won’t accept it, and your mind won’t accept it, and you can’t relax. You can’t feel comfortable with someone against you.

Leo doesn’t push it. He still occasionally reaches for you before catching himself -- it happens less, and less, and less -- but he never forces you into touch. He never comments on your small attempts at physical affection. He just lets you be.

Sometimes you feel like a disaster of a girlfriend. With anyone else, you’d be fine; but Leo? Leo: touchy, physically affectionate, always trying to close the empty air between you, always leaning towards you subconsciously, always hungry to be in contact somehow. And you. You: pulling yourself away from him, always leaning away subconsciously, crossing your arms and standing as small as you can, tugging yourself away, away.

One day you talk to him about it.

He’s still trying to coax you into opening up to him more, into talking to him and telling him what you need; and you’re reading a comic book on the skate ramp and he flops down next to you and starts reading his own.

“Leo,” you say, immediately, your heart thumping in your ears, “I feel so bad.”

“Bad? About what?”

(Take her hands in your own. Let her know that you’re here for her.)

“Touching,” you say awkwardly. “I mean, I know it’s your love language. And I don’t --”

“Heck no,” he says, sternly. “We’re not having this conversation again. It makes you uncomfortable and that’s all there is to it.”

“Leo. Please. I just want to talk.”

He sighs and puts down his comic. “Yeah? What is it?”

“I feel bad. I feel so, so bad.”

“I don’t mind.”

“But you do.”

“No -- would I lie to you? I don’t mind it.”

“But --”

“Hey. It makes you so uncomfortable. And that means it makes me uncomfortable, mmkay?”

(Cup her face in your hands. Run your fingers over her cheeks.)

“I feel like a mess,” you say. “I feel like I’m not what you need.”

“You’re everything I need,” he tells you.

(Take her hands. Kiss her forehead. Breathe her air.)

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes. Yes, you are. You are.”

You can see it in his eyes. He’s fighting the urge to touch you.

“I’m trying my best,” you tell him. “I’m trying. I’m trying to get okay with it.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he says. “All that matters is you. Got it?”

“Okay,” you say, unconvinced.

But it still won’t click. You try, and try, and try. But your fingers curl away from his; your body moves away instead of towards.

He keeps slipping you notes and gifts and you accept them and smile at him but what is your love language? how do you tell him you love him? nothing feels right.

You’ve been dating for a little over a year -- with occasional hand holds, and Leo giving you notes and presents and words of love, and you stuck in a limbo of love-languageless -- when Leo has the incident. (Why hasn’t he given up on you yet? He shows you his love in a thousand different ways, and you barely reciprocate at all. You love him so so much but it won’t come out. It just sticks in your chest and stops the words from coming out of your mouth.)

The incident is a text asking you to come to the lair, and once you get inside Mikey meets you, bouncing on his feet and taking your hands and dragging you to the medbay. There’s a chunk of panic starting to bounce around in your stomach.

Leo is alone in the recovery bed. He looks so small. So frail. His eyes are shut; and his forehead looks damp and dewy; he’s breathing loudly and shallowly. His limbs are bruised and bandaged and his plastron is layered with bloody gauze and his face is cut and swollen. You can hear the steady beeps of the heart monitor and it’s your one comfort.

(Later, you learn what happened: the brothers confronted a villain they’d never encountered before; and she’d grabbed a hold of Leo and immediately beat him to within an inch of his life without a moment’s hesitation. They were convinced that the only reason Leo was still alive was because she let him be.)

The words are trapped in a knot in your stomach. You can’t speak, or think. You just kneel down next to the bed and put your hands over your mouth and stare at your unconscious love.

You don’t leave his side.

Eventually Donnie brings you a more comfortable chair; and Raph lays a blanket over your shoulders; and Mikey puts a warm plate of food onto your lap and bugs you until you eat something.

You sit, and sit, and worry.

He drifts in and out of consciousness over the course of the next few days. The first time he comes to, he groans and shifts and gasps in pain and flutters his eyes open and you hold your breath as he focuses on your face.

He breathes your name and smiles with swollen cheeks.

You want to whisper his name back and tell him that you love him and tell him that you’ve spent the past three hours alternating between sobbing over him and staring at him numbly and that if he survives this you want to marry him and that you’ve never felt so sick with concern over another living being and and and

but instead you stare at him with wide shocked eyes and his swollen cheeks relax and his eyes shut again.

You stay at his bedside for four days, dozing off in the chair and eating what Mikey brings you; until one day you wake up in Leo’s room. It’s a disorienting shock, and you stay still and wonder about what’s going on for a few minutes.

Gosh, you’re sore from sleeping in that chair. What time is it? How’s Leo?

You shuffle out of the room and go back to Leo’s bedside.

His eyes are actually open now. He’s answering Donnie’s evaluation questions, and scratching at his itchy, healing wounds until Donnie slaps his hands and threatens to tie them down if he doesn’t stop scratching.

(Leo keeps scratching. Donnie gives him gloves.)

You see Leo’s face brighten when he sees you. He’s cut, and bruised, and swollen, but the light that leaps into his face.

“Y/n!” he says.

Your throat is squeezed tight.

“Speechless at the sight of this sexy mug?” he croons, and then coughs intensely for about fifteen seconds. It’s a rough and raspy and disgusting cough. You flinch.

“I’m good,” he rasps. “I’m good. Just a bit of a head cold.”

Leo. Stupid, stupid Leo.

You still can’t say anything.

“I’ve missed you,” he tells you. “I’ve really, really missed you. While my body was fighting for its life. I was like, boy oh boy, sure wish I was hanging out with Y/n instead right now.”

You press your lips together in a sort of a smile.

(why does he put up with you? why?? listen to the sweet things he’s saying and you’re not replying at all and he doesn’t deserve someone as unappreciative and unresponsive as you and)

You hold up your hands and form your fingers into a heart.

He smiles at you -- his lip is so swollen that you can barely recognize the curl of his beak -- and forms his stiff, splinted fingers into a semblance of a heart.

He recovers slowly over the next couple of weeks and contributes to the discussion of how to take out the villain who took him out; and you sit at his bedside and watch his injuries heal.

You feel so quiet, and terrified.

Once Donnie judges him as ‘recovered enough,’ Leo rejoins his brothers and they go out to face the villain again.

You tell him, “Be careful.”

“I will,” he promises, and there’s a soft look on his face that tells you that he will be careful for you and for you alone.

But he is again brought back broken! and bloody! and beaten!

and this time you stare in shock at him, worse for wear, worse for wear, his snapped leg and his crushed ribcage and his bruised brain and you could easily have lost him and you’re tearing off your fingernails with your teeth while Donnie mutters under his breath and slams cabinets -- she’d gone for Leo specifically again, targeting him for reasons they’d discover another day -- and you’re staring at Leo’s tense and unconscious face while the heart monitor beeps and the blood seeps into the gauze and this time you don’t spend day and night by his bedside. You can’t explain it, but you just can’t. You can’t. You can’t look at him; you can barely think about him. You just wander the lair in a bathrobe and eat chips occasionally and pretend he’s perfectly alright until he’s finally Awake.

Mikey pokes his head into Leo’s room, where you’ve been sleeping as he recovers.

“Y/n?”

You’re cross-legged on the bed, reading his comics and wearing one of his hoodies. (It smells just like him. You’re drowning in his scent. Every breath fills your chest with him. You feel calm when you wear it.)

“Yeah?”

“He’s awake. He’s asking for you.”

You go barefoot to the medbay, stepping slowly on the cold floor. You can’t hurry. You can’t run. You can’t let yourself accept his condition. You can’t let yourself comprehend the panic and fear that you’ve been carrying with you.

The bed is folded up slightly, so Leo can sit up without having to exert himself. Shelldon is changing his bandages and he’s grimacing as the dressing is peeled off of his wounds and he sees you. His sunken eyes meet yours.

“Hey,” he says, with a weak grin. The circles under his eyes are dark and deep and he’s sitting very still.

“Hey,” you whisper back, sitting down at his bedside. “How are you… how are you feeling?”

“Better now.” He winks.

“Leo. Be serious.”

“I am serious.”

“Leo. I mean it. You almost died. Twice. Stop joking.”

He drops the smile. “Okay. Fine. I’m serious. It’s really good to see you. I feel better now that I’ve seen you.”

“Leo,” you snap.

“What?? That was serious!”

You pause for a moment to breathe and fight the urge to strangle him.

(why are you angry? why are you angry? why why why?)

(you almost lost him twice. you almost lost him twice)

“...I’m sorry,” you exhale through your teeth. “I’m sorry. It’s just been rough --”

“Imagine how I feel!” he says with a chuckle, and then squeezes his eyes shut and gasps.

“Leo? Leo?? You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. It just hurts to laugh.”

“Then stop laughing,” Donnie cuts in, rolling his eyes. “I have to run a few more tests. Shoo, shoo. Let me work.”

“Please,” you whisper, and he rolls his eyes again and points you to a chair a bit further away.

You sit and watch as he runs his tests and as Leo bites his lip hard to not show his hurt too much in front of you, and once Donnie is done, you move closer to Leo again.

You’re there for a while, just kind of listening to your brain get louder and louder and watching him flip between sleep and mumbling to you, kind of quiet and incoherent, but you pick out your name every now and again.

Donnie travels in and out of the room, going to his lab and then coming back to check on Leo and then going back to the lab. He’s very twitchy and nervous; but so are you all. Mikey and Raph come into the room every now and again to check on you and Leo, too. And after a while, Raph taps your shoulder and asks when you’re going to bed.

“Soon,” you say, but Leo pops his eyes open.

“Stay with me,” he mumbles, pathetically. “Please.”

So you sleep that night in the chair by his bedside, and wake up with an impossibly stiff neck and a headache.

He’s more awake today, more alive and coherent, and he starts cracking jokes at you as soon as he sees you’re awake.

“You’re an idiot,” you tell him. “Absolute idiot. Stop telling jokes. You almost died.”

He doesn’t stop.

“Leo,” you say, as he makes another joke about his near-death experience and wiggles his eyebrows at you and laughs and winces.

“I won’t give up until you laugh!” he says, and starts another joke, and you put your head in your hands and groan.

“You’re an idiot,” you say again.

“I know that means you love me,” he hums.

And you, love-languageless you, realize that he’s right. That does mean ‘I love you.’

You laugh here, awkwardly. “Yeah. Yeah. You’re right.”

“Made you laugh.”

“I love you,” you tell him, outright.

His eyes glow and he smiles at you, his teeth on display. “I love you a bajillion times more than that.”

“That’s not even a number.”

“Love defies all known boundaries of reality.”

“Leo --”

“Y/n --”

And you’re laughing now, properly giggling and grinning, and the weight on your chest has lifted up a bit.

“I love you,” he says again, serious. “And I’m sorry for hurting you. By… getting hurt. I really tried to be careful, to not get hurt, for you, I swear, but --”

“But you’re alive,” you finish. “You’re alive.”

“I love you,” he says again.

“I love you,” you say, and the love is stuck inside of your chest and you don’t know how to get it out.

After another week, Leo’s going stir-crazy in the recovery room, and Donnie agrees that he can move around a bit. He hobbles all over the lair with a pair of blue crutches, peeking into the various rooms and complaining about his broken leg.

You’re following him around, picking up the things he knocks over and watching him with a worried eye as he wobbles and hobbles and clumsily clamors around on one leg.

“Maybe let’s watch a movie,” you say, catching yet another vase he’s knocked off of Splinter’s do-not-touch cabinet while gesturing with his crutch.

“I don’t want to! I’ve been sitting down for the past two weeks,” he whines.

“Well, you need to rest. You need to heal. Stop moving around so much and just rest.”

“My leg hurts when I stop moving,” he complains.

“Take some pain meds or something! Just go sit down!”

You go get him some pain medicine from Donnie, and when you get back to the living room, he’s started his favorite rom-com and claimed Splinter’s chair as his own.

“Thanks,” he says, taking the medicine, grimacing and rubbing at his leg and ribs as he tries to get comfortable.

You drag a beanbag over and sit next to his chair while he hits ‘play’ and the movie starts.

You reach over the armrest and take his hand.

It comes as a sort of instinct at first; you don’t think too much about it; but then you feel his hand tighten around yours and it occurs to you that you just grabbed his hand.

You stop your breath and feel his fingers twitch against yours and you pause and let the discomfort wash over you --

except there’s no discomfort. You wait for a moment, confused, tense, waiting for the sick to creep into your lungs at the touch of his skin.

But there’s nothing.

You just feel his pulse in his hand, and the cold roughness of his skin, and the subtle warmth spreading up your arm from the point of contact.

Your cheeks feel warm, and your chest feels warm, and his hand tightens around yours and you’re so glad he’s alive. You’re so glad he’s alive.

You stand up and start to climb onto the chair.

“Move over,” you say, and he blinks at you and scoots to one side, and you awkwardly settle in next to him.

He spreads his arms like a question and you take a breath and press yourself into his chest.

His arms are around your back, and your face is against his plastron, and he’s stroking the back of your neck with his thumb and you’re holding both of your hands flat against his chest.

He puts his lips on top of your head and you close your eyes and let yourself drown in his scent and the gentle closeness of his body.

He’s alive.

You push yourself forward, even closer, and he hugs you even tighter.

(You’re squishing his ribs and his still-healing plastron and his leg is still aching but he won’t say a word. He won’t move a muscle.)

“I love you,” you want to tell him. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. And I almost lost you and I was so terrified. I still am so terrified. I love you. I love you, I love you.”

But the words are choked and collared inside your throat again. They won’t come out no matter how badly you want them to.

And yet, as Leo touches his forehead against yours and whispers are you sure? are you sure you’re fine? are you sure you want to touch? are you sure? you hear ‘i love you’ echoed a thousand times in his words and in the tenderness of his fingers on your shoulders. And then you hear it echoed back as you nod, and nod, and kiss at the bridge of his nose.

#rottmnt #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt leo x reader #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles fanfiction #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles fic #rottmnt x reader #my writing

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catboyclarity · 1 year ago

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so i haven't been posting my whumptobers for like the past ten days cuz a couple got really personal so I didn't want to post them and then I got embarrassed about posting but I wanted to post this one as I'm really happy with how it came out. Thiiis is a canon scene in Consumptionverse that I'm happy to finally have a draft for and at some point I will come up with context for it. Um. Don't worry, he is fine

Whumptober Day 20. Blood Loss. CW: dude thinks he is dying so lots of death thoughts

Characters: Renato (he/him), Rosarian (they/them)

The silver knife had gone right between his ribs. On the right side of his body. Same place Arlo’d been hit, before. He’d got the fucker back good, but blood was still coming out and they must have hit a lung, because he could feel some getting sucked in with every breath. Not good. That was the only thing he could manage to think.

“You’re bleeding,” Rosarian said.

“Yeah, I’m fucking bleeding.” Renato’s voice sounded distant and wavery, even to himself. He wondered if Rosarian could hear it too. “Got stuck good.” He put a hand over his wound to try and stop the blood flow. Hurt.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah.” He managed a few steps before a great wave of weakness crashed over him, and he started to stumble. Before he could hit the ground, though, Rosarian caught him, holding him up by his arms. He muffled a grunt of pain.

“You’re not alright,” they said sternly.

“Wow,” he said. “What tipped you off?” He tried to laugh and it hurt so much he couldn’t breathe. While he was struggling, Rosarian kneeled down and looped an arm behind his knees.

“This is bad,” they said. He was inclined to agree. “We have to get you to a doctor.”

“Heath lives…around here…” He felt Rosarian strain to pick him up. Heather lived…a mile? Two miles? Fuck.

They finally lifted him and actually tried to run with him in their arms. It hurt, and they couldn’t go very fast, either. He was five feet of solid muscle. For all the good that did him now.

“You’re too…you can’t carry me,” Renato said. His side felt very wet.

“Don’t diminish my capabilities,” they said. “I’m strong enough.”

“Just…set me down…there might be more, you need to run…” Breathing kept getting harder.

“Heather can patch you up.” It was like he hadn’t said anything. They kept looking ahead. Not down at him. “You’ll be alright.”

“Why…do you care…?” They hated him. He knew they hated him. The stupid kiss had made them hate him even more. Looking up at the strong lines of their face, he wished they‘d been able to kiss more than once. He thought about going for it now, but he couldn’t really move.

He was dying. After all this time, he was really dying. Not good. As if hearing his thoughts, Rosarian spoke.

“You’re going to be alright.” It was said like an order. “Stay with me, Renato.”

“You…told me to go…”

“What?”

“After we kissed.” Was this how Arlo felt, he wondered? He would have carried Arlo, too, if he could. He’d tried. He’d really tried. Was that enough? “And…when I tried to talk to you…and, before…when…when…”

“That doesn’t matter right now.” It was the only thing that mattered. “Stop talking. You’re making it worse.”

“But that’s what I do best,” he said. “Making things worse.”

He wanted to say I love you. He wanted to keep living. He wanted to kiss Rosarian a hundred more times. Somewhere, far away, they were calling his name, and then he couldn’t hear it anymore.

#whumptober 2023 #kinda gay to think about your dead boyfriend while bleeding out in a mean they/them's arms

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transboysokka · 6 months ago

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ok I know I’m on here either like “omg my body is DYING” or just not saying anything and living a life offline full of exercise etc with little in between

but I realize in the past I’ve posted stuff about how fibromyalgia works but idk if I’ve ever been super specific about what it’s LIKE

So here’s a lil breakdown/faq of stuff that Google might not tell you (obvs this is all specific to me)

ok so what does it feel like?

GIRL first of all I’m ALWAYS in pain. It’s usually centered around my joints and kind of moves around? It’s not always in every place and it’s not always in the same places, but there are a handful of places I kind of know to expect it in one or a few of them. For me it’s worst in my knees. I often get migraines too.

So at the lowest level of pain I can just ignore it. These are the days I’m walking a ton or going on these crazy ass bike rides. I’m still hurting, but it’s whatever. Background noise.

On the worst days…. It often feels like I’m literally on fire. Sometimes I get tingly/numb too. A couple times it’s felt like my legs were just being crushed… it gets VERY bad. Where it hurts to walk but also just to sit.

When I have pain like that, imagine how exhausting that is. Imagine how hard it is to concentrate on anything or hold a conversation or teach a class or have a full time job. And all the while the people you’re talking to see absolutely zero problem with you but you swear that if you look down you’ll see your lower body literally in flames. It makes me feel crazy.

And still I’m trying to live my life around all that and dealing with people making fun of my brain fog or the cane I use for walking sometimes…

what can I do/say to someone dealing with a flare up?

honestly for me personally nothing’s gonna help. but know that if I ever TELL you I’m in pain then that means it’s BAD because I spend all the rest of the time just keeping it to myself. More than anything, I just want you to try to understand how bad it is. Like there are times when I wish I could just stop existing for a minute.

Also if it’s in your control, give me chances to sit. Do activities with me that require me to walk as little as possible, etc. and that’s honestly p much it. Like nothing you say or do is actually gonna help but I just want that kind of support, y’know?

#idk lmk if u have other questions #I had a full day feeling great but the weather here is so fucked I’m getting bad again #huge sigh #text #fibro

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icyhotheartwritings · 7 months ago

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Pet death/incoherent grieving ramble

Loki passed away Tuesday night. It doesn’t feel real. I mean, we just celebrated his birthday - our birthday - three days before. He was fine. He tried to buck me off a couple weeks ago. He was sprinting around acting a fool when mom got Waffles out without him not a day before.

He was only 22. We were supposed to have years left. Years. I was expecting at least 28, hoping for 30 or more. I never expected to lose him so soon. He was so healthy, I did everything I could, every supplement he could possibly need, vets and farrier and anything he needed, he got.

We were training for a show next month. I was working out ways to cure him of not wanting to ride alone. We had plans to ride with people. We had a whole show schedule for the summer. I was going to build trail trial obstacles. We were going to conquer the fucking world. And now he’s gone. Just like that.

The worst - and best - part was… there was nothing that could have been done. It wasn’t a case of if we got there an hour or two earlier, gotten to the vet sooner, he would’ve been fine. There was nothing. There was no hope. When we got to the vet they were talking surgery, then said it was too bad for a referral, then she got the bloodwork back and he was gone. Suspected internal melanoma that killed his digestive system, or something similar. Wasn’t a gas colic. Wasn’t something that could be healed.

Some incredible stranger helped my dad bury him next to Dreamer. Dad buried his peppermints with him, every piece he could find in the tack room, like Dreamer had his butterscotches. We’re buying wildflower seeds to scatter over them.

The morning feeder bought some plastic flowers and taped them to his gate with an led candle light. I cried.

I swore that Loki would be my last horse, that I couldn’t go through the pain of losing them again and again like Star and Carrots and Quinn and Dreamer but I was supposed to have more years with him and I don’t think I’m done yet. The barn owner said his stall is mine, that I can take all the time I need to find the right horse and I think I’m giving it a couple months before I begin to look in earnest. Nothing could replace Loki. But he never replaced Carrots. And Carrots never replaced Star. And I know I can love another horse, but I just… I need time. There’s two BLM mustang auctions in about four months. I might go. Waffles is a mustang. He’s a good horse.

These past 6 months have been. Absolute hell. I’ve lost a cat, a dog, and Loki. Almost lost another cat, it’s a fucking miracle we still have him. But Darcy and Loki were not even 4 weeks apart. It’s been a hell of a March.

With Snarky and Darcy, at least, we knew it was coming. We had warning. Snarky had cancer. Darcy was old and sick. They were both old, older than they had any right to be. But Loki was young. And it was so goddamn sudden.

When I’m hurt and grieving, I don’t… show much outward emotion. I’m the rock for everyone else. I hold it down until I’m alone and can let myself cry. For him, I screamed. I fell to my knees and I screamed.

It feels like a piece of my soul has been ripped out of my chest. Torn out, pulled apart, and the pieces set to light. I loved that horse with everything I am. I hope he knew how much I loved him. He was part of me. All my animals are, but he was special. He was my baby, my everything. I thought he was dead during the big fire, the last thing I heard before the cell service went out was that my mom couldn’t get to the barn and my horse was trapped, and all I could think was that I wanted to run down that burning hill and join him. But we got through it, both of us, together. We got through everything together. He’d always be there for me, he’d wrap his big head around me and hug me as I held onto his neck and he’d let me groom him while I prattled on about this and that. And now I have to get through this alone and I don’t know how I’m going to do it.

I don’t know how to end this post. I miss my horse. And I don’t want to go to work at the barn tomorrow and see his empty stall with the breakfast he didn’t finish.

#icy rambles #tl;dr i lost my horse and im a wreck

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mikebay02 · 9 months ago

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How to Recognize and Manage Separation Anxiety in Dogs

Dogs that break out of crates, harm themselves in the process, and can’t be left alone for even ten minutes are not only a risk to themselves but the people who live with them, too.

"A well-trained dog and a well-behaved dog are two entirely different things. A trained dog will do what you ask, but a behaved dog? They will make good choices on their own."

This behavior is called separation anxiety, and. Single. Day. We are getting DMs, emails, and comments about how much this behavior is destroying peoples’ (and dogs’) lives.

“I haven’t been able to go on a date night with my s/o since we got this dog.”

“I had to pull my kids from extra-curricular activities because we can’t leave the dog home alone.”

“My dog destroys the crate when left alone, and hurts himself in the process. If he’s not created, he WILL eat the window frames.”

“Our dog will howl and bark so loud, my landlord is threatening to evict me.”

These are REAL stories.

This is how separation anxiety is affecting families around the world.

It’s heartbreaking, and we understand how much pain and stress this ONE issue can cause. We put it at the top of the “most painful to live with” list— above aggression, believe it or not.

There is no escaping separation anxiety when you’re in the thralls of it. It’s a problem that spills over to every part of your life.

That’s why when people describe It…it’s often accompanied by the words: “suffering” “struggle” “desperation” and “trapped” It’s a crappy way to live with your dog…

And we don’t want that for anyone.

But life doesn’t need to be that way. Despite what the internet tells you, this behavior can be modified, and you can get your life (and your peace of mind) back.

Inside Separation Anxiety Solutions, you’ll join Jeff, Joelle, and Courtney of Solid K9 Training, to learn the exact dog anxiety training protocols and methods that are saving dogs from the prison of separation anxiety. Dogs just like yours.

As a dog owner, you deserve to have a dog that can live happily and peacefully in your home!

Your dog should be confident enough to calmly relax and self-soothe on its own—whether you’re gone for 5 minutes or a couple of hours.

No dog should require 24/7 supervision. It’s not realistic, and most of us have jobs, kids, and other life events to put our time into.

But if you you’re knee deep with a dog who is running your household and your life, you might feel like that’s impossible at the moment.

And you might be struggling trying a hundred different methods, a hundred ways, only to keep getting the same result: a dog that’s a danger to itself and your house.

So how do you help your dog get past this behavior?

If you’re searching endlessly for solutions, or don’t even know WHERE to begin…

Be encouraged.

YOU CAN HAVE A DOG WHOSE BEHAVIOR DOESN’T TAKE OVER YOUR LIFE.

You just need proven methods to push you in the right direction and get you RESULTS, that’s exactly what you’ll find inside of Separation Anxiety Solutions.

Meet Your Instructor

Hi, I’m Jeff Gellman, the guy with the hair that works with those insane dogs. I got my start in dog training 20ish years ago when I owned a wildly out of control dog myself. His name was Max, and he was large, powerful and had a lot of bad behaviors. He was making my life a living hell, and it felt like nobody could help me at all. That was until I finally met THE ONE trainer who looked me dead in the eye and said “you can tell your dog “no”, Jeff.”

And that was the day everything changed. I was able to stop all of my dog’s horrific behaviors rather quickly, and actually train him up to be one of the coolest dogs I’ve ever owned. He became my sidekick in mountain climbing, biking, and even my demo dog when I created a dog training business of my own (hello Solid K9 Training.) Max was the first “why” behind everything I do today.

I currently own and operate an exclusive, boutique style dog training center in Bradenton, Florida. I rehab and train dogs from all around the country and even traveled for 5 years holding dog training seminars around the world. When I say I have worked with the worst of the worst behavioral cases, I truly mean it. I own a highly successful virtual dog training company where I can put my passion into video format to help even MORE people who can’t reach me geographically.

I also held dog anxiety training seminars around the world. Throughout my career, I have worked with tens of thousands of dogs and humans, and I know firsthand how lack of training can affect the quality of life for both ends of the leash. Between my free social media content, virtual one-on-one work, seminars, and in-person training, I have kept countless dogs in their homes who were on their last chance.

I have always wanted to find a way to help EVEN more families and their dogs. There is such a need for dog training that works, and so I created this course. My Green to Graduate series addresses one of the most common pain points I see people struggling with- lack of training overall! So many folks are struggling to get their dogs to do the basics, so I wanted to create courses that truly covers it all.

This simple and easy-to-follow video series will get you on the path to better walks, better obedience, and a better lifestyle with your pet for the long run. You'll finally be able to live life with your dog exactly as you imagined, and the best part is, you'll be there in 4 weeks or less.

We know the struggle is real out there with SA. So we will be putting everything we’ve got into this course with 20+ years of experience under our belts.

We’ve worked with dogs who destroy kennels, break teeth, rip out toenails, and wreak havoc on their owners’ lives with separation issues—and we’ve got the tools, methods, and information (and creativity) to turn it around.

We’ve never shown our protocols for separation anxiety on video before. This is a first for us. And the dog who we will be training in the course displays ALL of the behavior above ^.

We know what an impact this course is going to have not only on the dogs, but on the PEOPLE who are suffering in silence, too.

For the first time ever, Jeff, Joelle and Courtney will all be working together in a course to show the exact process behind how we resolve separation anxiety with a dog who mutilates, breaks out of crates, destroys the house, and has put a halt to his owners’ social life.

Inside Separation Anxiety Solutions, you’ll get in depth dog anxiety training that you can apply to your own dog, in real life.

When you join Separation Anxiety Solutions you’ll…

Learn how to eliminate arousal, incessant whining, and non stop barking inside the crate

Learn our processes for stopping all crate breaking and self destructive behaviors

Receive step by step coaching on how to set up training protocols that address your dog’s state of mind (even when you’re not home.)

Learn our tried and true methods for creating calmness within the home, within the kennel, and within your dog’s MIND

Understand how you LIVE with your dog effects everything as far as your dog’s behavior is concerned

Learn how to muzzle condition your dog with our Muzzle Conditioning course ($99 value)

Recordings of Our 2023 Live Two-Day Leash Reactivity Seminar

Unlock the Masterclass Vault, where you’ll have access to FIVE of our best-selling live classes from 2023 ($997 value):

Walk Mastery LIVE where you’ll learn to teach a perfect on and off leash heel

Leadership LIVE where we break down our most impactful leadership exercises

Day 1 behind the scenes with a Client Dog LIVE

How to Walk a Pack of Dogs LIVE

Our exclusive “How To Work With A Biting Dog” masterclass where we teach our exact protocols on how to stop resource guarding within the home with a dangerous dog

-A 90 minute FREE group q+a session with Jeff and Joelle to support you on your journey

Our weekend problem solving seminar course ($197 value)

One month FREE of our Private Community Membership (2 coaching calls included! $997 value)

Here’s what you’ll learn inside of Separation Anxiety Solutions:

Part 1: Eliminating arousal to get your dog ready to learn

Part 2: Generalizing this training to every part of your dog’s life, including inside your home and out. We will teach you how to have a dog that is calm when told to do so.

Part 3: Setting up real life protocols like leaving the house, and preparing your dog for success (and what to do if things go sideways)

Part 4: Troubleshooting. We know dog training is a roller coaster, and it’s not uncommon to have days that feel like a “set back.” You’ll learn exactly how we work through these scenarios and see the “messy middle” of training that isn’t being shown out there on social media.

Every module is in order, so that you can follow the process in the most effective way.

This is your one stop shop for stopping separation anxiety in its tracks, and helping your dog get out of this unhealthy headspace permanently.

And you’ll get it all for just $197 presale pricing!

For a program worth more than $2500

Testimonials and Feedback

Don't take our word for it. Take a look here or look at our testimonials at the link on the top of this page.

-Kristen O

"It's SO helpful! Nice to be able to rewind and replay certain tips. It's like having Jeff in my house!"

-Michelle L

"Started the videos and will recommend to my clients. So easy for them to understand! Thanks Jeff!" -

-Sunshine T

"Love how the dog makes mistakes and you guide him through the process. Nobody else shows that." -

-Kelly A

"Best purchase. A no-nonsense approach to training. Teaching me how to be a better teacher for the path I want my dog to follow."

-Murph M

"Fantastic. I'm having fun learning and you make it very clear/straight forward."

-Tricia K

"These courses are amazing! Now I have more things to really get my skills where they need to be to do better for my dogs. Thank you Jeff for taking the time to expand on content and help the masses!"

When you join Separation Anxiety Solutions, you’ll get:

-The Muzzle Conditioning course

-Walk Mastery LIVE where you’ll learn to teach a perfect on and off leash heel

-Leadership LIVE where we break down our most impactful leadership exercises

-Day 1 behind the scenes with a Client Dog LIVE

-How to Walk a Pack of Dogs LIVE

-our exclusive “How To Work With A Biting Dog” masterclass where we teach our exact protocols on how to stop resource guarding within the home with a dangerous dog

($997 value)

PLUS the -90 minute Q+A with Jeff and Joelle ($600 value)

-Weekend Problem Solving Seminar Course ($197 value)

-One FREE month to our Private Community membership ($47 value for the month PLUS a discounted rate if you choose to join for the year)

These bonuses are only valid when you join within 48 hours!

And in case you were wondering…

Q: Is this course right for me?

A: this course is for EVERY dog who struggles with whining, self destructive behavior, inability to be alone, and even destroying the house. There is so much to learn, and likely some very simple changes you can make that will change everything for you!

Q: It’s on pre-sale, so the course isn’t done yet?

A: we’re offering this course at special pre-sale price since we are still currently filming. Videos will drip out as they’re completed! We should have the course wrapped up and completed by January 31, 2024

Q: How do you know this dog anxiety training works and that is will work for me? That it’s not just you, because you have years of experience?

A: I wouldn’t call something proven if it’s only worked for me, one time. The training I teach inside this course has worked on tens of thousands of my client dogs—around the world. If you commit to applying what you learn, and trying things that might not be familiar to you, but could get you the results you want, this program will work for you.

Q: I’m exhausted. I’ve tried everything…what makes this any different?

A: I’m so sorry. I get it. Almost every single one of my clients comes to me after spending thousands and wasting time on training that doesn’t yield results. I wouldn’t wish this feeling on anyone. However, what if everything you’ve been trying just isn’t the “right” method? This is a self paced program, so no rush to consume it all in one day. Try it one module at a time. I promise you’ll make improvements. If not, shoot me an email and I’ll be happy to offer another solution. [email protected]

#dogs #dogs training #anxitey #dogslife

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wronggalaxy · 1 year ago

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MY LEFT LEG PROBLEM:

I have an unknown condition or long-term injury that has impacted me for a few years, but has been steadily getting worse. In the past couple weeks alone I've become reliant on my cane 100% of the time, lost all physical abilities with my legs outside of walking(including running, sports, jumping, kneeling, walking quickly, kicking, etc.), and have become almost completely bedbound outside of school. I go to school, stumble through classes half awake and in indescribable pain, try and fail to eat lunch because the pain is so bad, go home and spend the next 12 hours lying on a heating pad until I have to do it all over again. I have intense pain 24/7 that randomly spikes from anywhere from a few seconds to hours multiple times every day. The pain comes from my knee, but everything below it hurts as well. I can't stand for longer than a minute and walk for more than 5 at a time, on a good day. Even after just 5 minutes of walking I can't move my leg for 10 plus minutes. After a minute of standing or 5 of walking(often times less) I will uncontrollably collapse and be unable to move at all for 30-60 minutes. Even after all that time I can still only move to go from the floor to my bed or a chair/bench if in public where I have to rest for longer. It's not a muscle or bone problem. My PT and GP think it's a torn meniscus(knee cartilage), but we won't know until I have an mri which my insurance won't currently cover because it's "not medically necessary". A torn meniscus is usually treated by surgery if severe, sometimes not even that much is needed. Since it's been at least 5 years since the tear happened(if that does end up being the problem), surgery might not even be an option. I need a wheelchair. I can't afford one, my house isn't wheelchair accessible, my school is 2 stories and the elevator is constantly broken, I wouldn't be able to ride the bus(my only way to school), where I live if you home school in high school they force you to get a GED not a diploma. If I get surgery recovery time is 6 months, so I'd have to quit the Speech & Debate team. If you quit for any amount of time you can never be on the team again. I regularly get called slurs and insulting nicknames, get fake claimed, have had people try to steal my cane, and have been intentionally pushed down my school's staircases multiple times. I tend to chew on my cane's handle when anxious which has gotten me sexualized, a lot. I'm also suspected for tendinitis in my ankle. The longer a torn meniscus is untreated the bigger the tear becomes and the more likely you are to develop degenerative knee arthritis. I'm also suspected for knee arthritis. Knee braces only make the pain worse and irritate my skin condition, leg braces don't do anything. My cane barely works anymore. I can't use a walker because of my back or crutches because of the school's broken elevator. My GP can only prescribe me ibprophen because of a lack of diagnosis. It does nothing. Nor does any other pain medicine I've tried for anything. I took a pill once that's so strong that it can kill you to take more than 1 a day. It brought me down to what able-bodied people would probably call a 'five'. That was before it got bad.

I don't know how much longer I can survive.

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theramblinghockeydude · 1 year ago

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Inner Darkness

One thing you will notice with my writing is that it sometimes is a bit hectic and sometimes words get left off. They don't make it from my brain to typing for some reason. Please bear with me on that.

I promised myself that nothing would be off the table, if I was going to do this and share my journey I was going to need to talk about it all as that feels like the only way that I can process it and put it behind me. I have been dreading this one because to openly admit this and talk about it and how deep it went, is to admit that I am weak and nobody wants to admit they are weak.

I have hinted at this in other posts on facebook, but I got to a point the last few years where I didn't want to live any longer. I am ashamed to admit that, but it is truthfully where my mind was. I wasn't suicidal. I simply didn't have the will any longer to live life and give it everything I have. I didn't care. I didn't have anything to look forward each day so I just simply...existed. I was ready to leave this earth if my time was coming. I was mentally prepared for that and even looked forward to it. "Wouldn't it be nice to just not wake up tomorrow" was a common thought of mine. I was broken. I was tired of hurting every day of my life. I was tired of simple tasks such as walking to the door to get a food order draining me of every ounce of energy I had because my knees just simply didn't work any longer and they ached all the time. The physical part of what I was going through wasn't going to kill me. I can honestly say right now as I type this...if things had not changed, if I was still in that apartment in Minot, I would not have been long for this earth. The desire to be was simply not there any longer. I didn't sleep much. I didn't eat well. I would usually eat an actual meal once a day and that consisted of whatever I decided to order from Door Dash or some pizza delivery service. The rest of the time I snacked on whatever I could get delivered from Dollar General or CVS. I was drinking anywhere from 3-4 20 ounce soda's a day. I looked like hell. My eyes were dark and sunken and I hadn't had a haircut in a couple of years. The hair thing drove me nuts. My room was nothing but hair, everywhere I looked, hair. I laugh now because when I sent the picture to one of my friends his wife saw it and asked him who the little old lady was. I simply had no desire or even the strength any longer to be here.

So, I existed from day to day, praying, yes, actually praying to God that He would take me, that it would be my time. I don't have it in to end my own life. Well, ok, so the way I was living was doing that, but I think you get what I mean. The faith that I had been clinging to for life was wavering. I wondered to myself, how could a loving God let this happen to me? Where was He now that I needed him most? Of course I know the answers to these questions now and I can see where some of the things that happened to get me to that low point have been for the best, but at the time I was wallowing in my own misery and was blinded. I felt like everything was being taken away from me. My knees ached so bad I couldn't go for drives any longer to take pictures. I couldn't rock hunt any longer. I couldn't grocery shop. I couldn't just simply do the simple things of life anymore that we take for granted and it was killing me inside. This is the point where some of you, if not all, are saying to yourself. Why didn't you go to the doctor and get your knees taken care of. I cannot put it any simpler than to say that I do not trust doctors. My past experience was not good and I see how a lot of doctors these days just push pills on you and try to treat you for things you don't even have under the "preventative" tag line. I will go to my grave believing that my grandma would still be alive today had it not been for doctors. So, in my mind, if I go into a doctor I have about a 50/50 chance at best, to feel better than when I go in. That is not a gamble I am going to take. You can disagree with that but it is how I feel and the thought of doctors brings on an anxiety that is hard to near impossible to overcome.

I heard a song during this time that really hit home with me and I listened to it a lot because a lot of it rang true with how I was feeling, especially the part of wanting Jesus to take me home. The song is "Desperate" by Light up the Darkness.

Lyrics are:

So I'm here again and I hate being in this place This place of guilt and shame / The home of my disgrace Where do I go now / I have lost my eyes to see I've removed my ears to hear You / I feel alone

Take me away / Take me to where You are I need to feel Your arms / I need to feel Your love Jesus, take me home / ‘Cause that's where I long to be I just need You now / Will You hold me Please hold me / Please hold me

I'm tossed by the waves and I'm not walking with You now I wonder why I hurt, but inside I know the truth I'm about to drown / And I'm just desperate to find You I know all the answers and still I can't break through

Take me away / Take me to where You are I need to feel Your arms / I need to feel Your love Jesus, take me home / ‘Cause that's where I long to be I just need You now / Will You hold me

You didn't leave me all alone And You begged me to come home But I pushed You away But can You take me now

Won't You take me to where you are / I need to feel Your arms Won't You take me home / ‘Cause that's where I want to be I just need You now / Jesus, take me to be with You Take me home with You Won't You take me / Won't You take me with You

The good news is, I no longer feel like this. Mind you, I am not scared of death, but I also do wish and pray for it any longer. I do still have to vigilante and mindful of my thoughts though as I found out a couple of weeks ago, I am not as far along mentally as I thought I was as things were not going well, I had new hurts that seemed like they were not going to go away and were going to be a part of each day, and I started to feel that hopeless feeling again. Luckily, I am not alone with my own thoughts any longer, but it did show me that I am not that far away from feeling that again.

I cannot express this to you enough, make sure you leave every conversation or situation in your life in a manner that you would be happy with as we are not guaranteed tomorrow. I never thought I would ever mentally get to that point in my life where I seriously did not want to live any longer, yet it happened and I didn't see it coming. I know we hear this a lot and we take it to heart, but eventually we slide back into our normal life routines and say and do things that if there was no tomorrow for us or a loved one, we would regret it or we would wish we had said or done something different. I know that I am going to try to my hardest to not let that happen to me any longer. Live each day with meaning and purpose and enjoy the little things. While you have the ability to, do the things you want to do now, don't put them off. Say the things to others you want to say, let them know how you feel about them, don't assume they know, they may but everyone likes to know they are cared about and hear it. If you have made it all the way through this you are amazing. Please do not worry about me as I am not in this state of mind any longer, I just needed to get that out in the open so I can further heal from it.

If you find that you have questions, or want to know anything, please feel free to ask me as I am trying to be an open book, so nothing is of limits...until we find what is off limits that is :)

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